#so I'm constantly making backup plans

[fennopunk]

Finding herbal stimulants that are practical to obtain in Finland in case of an emergency turned out to be a challenge. Like yes, caffeine is great, especially if I'll ever learn the balance that actually works for me instead of basically sending me into torpor, but if when there is medicine shortage or I can't get my prescription for other reasons, I would like to have a backup plan that doesn't involve shipping beans from the other side of the planet 😐

Edit. Found roseroot! I'll try at some point if it helps me at all or if it has any adverse effects.

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Mad at my professor again lmao

[jinwoosbabyboo]

𝑨 - 𝑳𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓

My headcanons of the LADS Men w/ a Singer/Idol reader [Requested by: liz9898]

𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎

He's a doctor before anything else, but he's making it to every show that he can

Tends to make it to your rehearsals more than your actual shows

wants to read over your contract with your label before you sign anything

always has flowers delivered to your dressing room on the day of your show

He owns every album and ep

"You know you don't have to buy the physical copies right? I can give them to you for free" "Yes I do I'm your number 1 fan will you sign this?"

loves surprising you when you're getting off stage with a small gift or flowers in hand

sets his favorite song as your ringtone

sexy dance with a partner? Absolutely hates it! "Do you have to do that part with him?" "He doesn't touch me Zayne it's just a body roll" "I'm not a fan"

when he can't make it to your show he livestreams it

buys you a bracelet with his name and birthstone "Wear this so you think of me" "Is this so everyone will know I'm taken?" "Thats only a plus"

plans his days off around your return dates when you go on tour

always sends an encouraging texts or calls before your shows

if you dont want your picture taken by paparazzi and he's with you he'll cover every lens with a sheet of ice

comes to your studio sessions when he can and if he can't make it he'll sit on the phone with you.

𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕

FANBOY FANBOY FANBOY

He's buying every album and ep and damn near setting up a shrine for you

He's at every single show

he has the option to be backstage or front row vip section he's front row 90% of the time

Captures the best angles of you while you're performing

Knows every single word to every song he's singing his little heart out right along with you

That fan page with 2 million followers? Thats his. Those fan edits that keep going viral for how good they are? Thats him.

He's backstage with you massaging and helping with ice packs to cool you down.

"Ice cold water isn't good for her vocal cords bring us room temperature!" suddenly he's the boss?

showers you in compliments after your shows and don't worry if your pre-show nerves start getting to you he's right there gassing you up

Now a sexy dance with a partner? he's not feeling it "I swear he wants to do a little more than dance" "well that would be shocking since his boyfriend is also my backup dancer" "Oh ._."

would 100% pack up and throw himself onto that tour bus the minute you ask if he wants to come with you

covering your face from paparazzi when you don't want your picture taken

those crazy stalkers and haters that are trying to harm you? strange how they keep disappearing huh

flowers and gifts before and after every show

sketches and or paints during your studio sessions; will spend all night/day in there with you he doesn't care he loves watching you and the process

𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛

supports you in every thing you do he's almost like you're personal bodyguard though

"no pictures" he says calmly as he places his hand on the lens of a pap who was hiding scaring the person shitless because how did he see him and how did he get there so fast

waits patiently backstage so he can carry you back to your dressing room

surveys the crowd silently even though you have security

follows all your fan pages and constantly scouring the internet for any bad press or hate so he can get rid of it

stands outside your dressing room while you rest so no one disturbs you "Xav get in here stop scaring my crew!"

goes over every minor detail with your label and publicity manager when a tour is brought up

tried to cook for you one time while on tour .... your manager nixed that expeditiously

that sexy dance you had with a partner? he got so jealous that you had your choreographer change the dance so he would stop sulking

prefers to carry you around because "you work so hard on stage"

changes your shoes for you and kisses your knee every time

takes naps in the studio when you're recording

𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜

this man is a mafia leader you think he has time to keep up with your hectic schedule? You bet your ass he does! Priorities baby and you're number 1

he is going over your contract with your label before you sign anything

you're going on tour? He's buying you the best and most comfortable tour bus money can buy

helps you in and out of costume changes

waits backstage with a pair of fluffy slippers and a bottle of water "You were amazing Miss Idol"

tries to sing your songs all the time "Hey baby who sings that?" "You." "Let's keep it that way"

Your dressing room, tour bus, and hotel rooms are always flourishing with gifts

Constantly praises you

follows your fan pages

either gives you a massage or has massages schedule for you to keep you nimble.

buys a recording studio for you so you don't have to pay the ridiculous studio fees

the twins end up becoming two of your backup dancers

gets rid of pictures online that you dislike; stops paparazzi from taking pictures by ruining the cameras with his evol

dont even worry about a stalker or crazy fan with malicious intent Sylus & the twins got that ass taken care of

[wraithlafitte]

bitchin'

pairing: dean winchester x reader

CONTENT: violence (hunting), SMUT, only one bed~ enemies to lovers (kinda), unprotected p in v (encase before you embrace), hate sex, Dean calls reader "princess" mockingly, manhandling, slapping, spanking, big dick!Dean has all the audacity, dirty talk, degradation, choking, cum eating, brat taming, edging, overstimulation, squirting

word count: 4.7k

To say you were unhappy to be working with Dean Winchester would be putting it lightly. A massive understatement, in fact. But, as luck would have it, you needed backup on a vamp case; and when you called Bobby Singer for help, it turned out that Dean was the only hunter nearby.

Your jaw set uncomfortably as you dialed his number and held the phone to your ear. Asking for help from anyone was hard, but from this man? Practically your mortal enemy? A feeling of shame, or maybe embarrassment, crept into your stomach as you listened to the phone ring.

He's probably just watching it ring, you thought cynically. Who's to say he would pick up at all? Maybe he won't, you hoped.

There was a laundry list of reasons why Dean was the last person you'd want to work with on a case. He was reckless, had no respect for plans, and tended to go in guns blazing without regard for his own life, which meant that you would constantly be saving his ass. And boy, was he a pain in yours.

The cherry on top of the Dean Winchester disaster cake was that he hated your guts. You never really figured out why, but you assumed it was his misogynistic tendency to be completely contrary to any woman he met who didn't fall all over him. God forbid a woman doesn't care about his rugged good looks or roguish bravery!

When he finally picked up, you could practically hear the smirk in his voice, dripping with self-righteousness. "Well, well. What do you want?"

You decided it would be best to cut to the chase and just get it over with. "I'm working a case in Nevada," you said calmly. He would not get you riled up. "Vegas. There's a vamp nest, been snatching homeless people. Tunnel dwellers," you added. "Not that it matters. People are people, vamps are vamps."

"What are you tellin' me for?" Dean asked gruffly. He was gonna make you say it. Of fucking course he was, because he just had to hold it over your head.

"Need backup," you said curtly. "There's at least five of them."

"So what you're sayin' is...." The smugness in his voice was unmistakeable.

"I need your help, you dick."

"Oh do you now."

You huffed, already fed up with him. "Bobby says you're the only hunter he knows nearby. Said you're in Flagstaff."

"Maybe I am," he said vaguely. "Bobby should know not to tell you anything about where I am or recommend me as reinforcements for you."

"He didn't want to, but I made him. Are you coming or not?" you said sharply.

I'll be there by nightfall. Don't wait up," he said teasingly and hung up, leaving you to listen to the tone, steaming.

Why does he have to make everything so difficult?

Rough pounding on the door of your motel room startled you up from your chair at midnight. Dean wasn't even in the room yet, and he was already tormenting you. You went to the door and jerked it open, pinching the bridge of your nose. You could feel the headache coming on.

"Honey, I'm home," Dean said wickedly. He pushed past you into the room, dropping his duffel bags in the middle of the floor. He dropped into the chair you had just vacated and looked up at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Don't make this any harder than it has to be," you warned him, eyes narrowing.

"Hey, I'm just excited to kill some vamps," he said, jabbing a finger towards you.

"Give it up. We both know you would rather be anywhere else."

"True," he conceded. "But let me just bask in the moment real quick."

You roll your eyes and return to your task, packing up your stuff. "Don't get too comfortable. We can't stay here. I was followed earlier."

"Perfect," Dean said sarcastically. "Of course you were."

You turn on him. "It can happen to anyone."

"Sure," he mocked. "So what's the plan, genius?"

Your face hardened. "We take the fight to them."

"Say no more."

The vampire's nest was in an abandoned warehouse (real original) that was a few streets away from one of the tunnels that the homeless had set up camp in. Chain link fence, corrugated metal, broken windows, the whole deal. And of course Dean wouldn't wait to make a game plan, sliding open a side door like nothing bad was waiting to jump him. In a vampire nest. At night.

All you could do was follow him, machete at the ready, and hope that the scuffing of his boots on the concrete floor wouldn't alert any vampires to your presence.

Dean ducked down, holding a fist in the air. You hurried behind him and crouched behind a shelf just in time to miss a patrolling vampire rounding the corner. Without missing a beat, Dean jumped out behind it and chopped it at the neck soundlessly. The body fell to the floor. As much as you hated to admit it, he was good.

You crept in the direction the fang had come from, Dean hot on your heels. He was so close you could hear his leather jacket creaking, smell his cologne, feel him practically breathing down your neck. You shot him a glare over your shoulder, then suddenly you hear voices. You stopped abruptly in your tracks, causing Dean to bump into you. You elbowed him and gave him a look.

Peeking around the doorframe, you saw what appeared to be the vamps' main hangout room. And there were a lot more than five of them, lounging around the walls, circling victims that were hung by their wrists from a beam.

"We can take them," Dean whispered in your ear.

You looked at him in disbelief. "Are you kidding me?" you hissed back. You tried to count the dark shapes in the next room. "There's at least ten in there. There's only two of us."

"We can do it." Without waiting for a reply, Dean busted down the door and started swinging. You had no choice but to follow as the vampires started coming out of their startled stupor and attacking.

Dean cut down two of them easily, their heads rolling on the floor before they knew what hit them. The rest, however, had time to react.

One of the vampires rushed you, just managing to avoid your blade as you swung it. She snarled and leapt towards you. You slashed her across the chest and she howled, clutching her shirt. You took the opportunity and decapitated her.

Someone grabbed you from behind, claw-like nails scratching your neck as it was forced to the side, baring your skin. You stabbed behind you, blade finding purchase, and used the distraction to cut off the fang's head.

Another vamp rushed you from the front. You swung your blade out in defense, but he just grabbed it and ripped it from your hand. Then, as if they could smell your defenselessness, you were suddenly swarmed, vampires clawing at your skin, your clothes, pulling your hair. Several hard punches landed to your gut and your face and the wind was knocked out of you as you fell to the floor, smacking the side of your head into the concrete. You yelped in pain and shock.

A boot pressed into the side of your neck and your vision was suddenly obscured by a heavy-set vampire bearing down on you, grinning. "Not so tough now without your little sword," he sneered, fangs descending. His mouth was smeared with blood and you could smell the tang of iron on his breath. You struggled to breathe as the pressure on your neck increased, your vision getting spotty.

Great, this is how I die....

As if in the distance, you heard Dean shout. The looming face of the vamp was promptly detached from its body, hitting the floor by your head. His body fell on top of yours, his gross bloody neck stump right in your view. The boot left your neck and charged in the direction of Dean's voice.

You struggled to free yourself from beneath the former vamp, ears ringing from your near-suffocation. You could hear the ensuing scuffle, all grunts and wet slices and heavy footfalls, but you had no idea who was winning.

Then, it was silent.

You held your breath instinctively, listening to a lone pair of footsteps approaching you. You found yourself realizing for the first time that you hoped Dean was coming. Better than the alternative.

Sure enough, Dean's hunt-beaten face appeared above you, screwed up with effort as he pushed the large vamp's body off of you. You sat up quickly, surveying the carnage, slapping away the extended helping hand. The shock of your near death experience wore off quickly, but the adrenaline from the fight did not, so your energy turned towards Dean.

"What the fuck, Dean?" you yelled, rising to your feet, wincing from the pain in your sides.

"What do you mean what the fuck?" he returned angrily. "I just saved your goddamn life!"

"After you endangered it!" you shoved him, scowling furiously. "Ten to two are not good odds! We could have fucking died! I almost did!"

"Hazards of the job, sweetheart!"

"There's hazards, and then there's suicide," you replied, fuming.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Don't have to thank me."

"I won't." You shoved him out of your way and made for the door. "Don't you ever fucking do that again."

"Not so fast, princess," Dean called after you. "Hunt's not over."

You froze in your tracks. "What."

"I didn't get all of 'em." You whirled around to face Dean, who was looking uncharacteristically sheepish.

Your voice was dangerously quiet. "What do you mean you didn't get all of them?"

He made an attempt at a self-confident grin. "They saw me ganking their buddies like nobody's business, turned tail and ran. I was more concerned about saving your life than to chase."

You smirked tauntingly. "Oh, you cared about my life?"

Dean just shrugged. "Couldn't just leave you there."

"Whatever." You started walking to the entrance again. "Since you let some get away, I say we get a night's sleep. They'll probably be expecting us to come after them, so they won't hunt again tonight. We can pick up the trail in the morning."

"What do you mean you only have one room left?" Dean asked angrily, slamming his hands down on the motel counter.

The clerk looked at him blankly. "Just what I said."

You were at the cheapest motel you could find in the city that was built on tourism. You and Dean were both short on cash, so it seemed like the best option. It was this or take shelter with the junkies in the tunnels.

"I'm not spending the night in the same room as her!"

You hit his shoulder. "Hey!"

"Like you don't feel the same," Dean said exasperatedly, digging out his wallet. "Next cheapest is still too expensive. I'm basically broke," he whined, rifling through his meager collection of bills.

"What happened to all your credit cards, Mr. Fraud?" you sneered.

Dean glared at you. You glared back. After a few moments, the clerk cleared his throat.

"So, do you want the room or not?"

You dropped your bags just inside the door of the room. "You're fucking kidding me."

Dean pushed past you. "What- oh. Oh my goddd." He ran his hand down his face tiredly.

Staring you in the face was the decidedly lumpy surface of a double bed. One. That fucking clerk could've warned you.

You and Dean slowly looked at each other, then you made a mad dash to claim the bed, shoving each other out of the way, kicking, tackling, until you both lay tangled on the floor, still not in the bed. You had his arm pinned behind his back, but he was pinning you to the floor with his weight.

You jerked on his arm, panting, and he grunted painfully, digging his knee into your side.

"Say.. uncle," you gritted out.

"You first!" Dean rasped.

"No!"

You laid there for a few more seconds, then, almost as if it was painful, Dean asked, "Should we- call it a draw?"

You rolled your eyes and released him. He rolled off of you, getting to his feet. He didn't help you up, of course.

"I'm not sleeping on the floor," he said spitefully.

"Well, neither am I." Your eyes narrowed.

You laid on the bed stiffly, positioned all the way at the edge of the mattress, as far away from Dean as possible. He was doing the same, and the blanket was pulled taut between you as you wordlessly battled over it.

You were steaming. You should have known that everything would go to shit if you called on him. He completely ruined what should have been a one-hour job, endangering your life and letting a few vamps go. He did, technically, save your life though. You were grateful, but you wouldn't tell him that in a million years.

Adrenaline from the hunt and your constant fighting with Dean coursed through your veins, keeping every sense on high alert. Every tug of the sheets from Dean lit a fire under your skin. His weight behind you on the bed filled you with a painful awareness of how touch-starved you truly were. As much as you tried to suppress it, tension began building in your core.

You shifted uncomfortably, squeezing your thighs together. "Ugh," you let out before you could stop yourself.

"Shut up," Dean grumbled through the darkness.

The sound of his voice, rough with tiredness, intensified how extremely horny you felt. You felt your underwear getting damp in spite of your hate for the man.

"God dammit," you said frustratedly, sitting up and swinging your legs over the side of the bed.

"What?" Dean said, throwing the covers back and sitting up too. "Why can't you just let me fucking sleep?"

"Nothing," you snapped, taking a swig from your water bottle. Hydrating would calm you down, surely.

"Yeah, right," he snapped back. "What the fuck is wrong?"

"I'm really fucking horny, Christ!" you blurt, whirling on him.

"If I fuck you, will you stop bitchin'?" Dean demanded, fire and a deadly seriousness in his eyes.

You opened and closed your mouth, stunned.

He just smirked at you. "Is that what it takes to shut you up?"

You stared at him. "Are you serious?"

"You want me so bad, huh." He moved across the bed and settled right behind you, his face in your neck, inches away from your own.

"Shut up," you say, flustered, still trying to keep some semblance of control. But you couldn't deny the arousal pooling in your gut.

"Say the word," Dean said smoothly, breath fanning over your exposed shoulder.

"Fuck," you whispered, cursing what you're about to do. You turned your head and smashed your lips to his.

Dean responded immediately, pulling you backwards and into his lap. He bit at your lips, forcing his tongue inside your mouth. You made an indignant sound, battling him for dominance, teeth clashing in a messy display of pure desire.

Your lips only parted to rip off each other's shirts. You dug your fingernails into Dean's bare shoulders as hard as you could, trying to elicit some kind of reaction from him, which came in the form of a deep groan into your mouth. He broke away, panting, and flung you onto your back on the mattress.

Leering down at you, he placed himself between your legs. "That's how you wanna play, huh princess?"

He yanked your leg up by the knee and slapped the back of your thigh. An involuntary moan escaped your mouth, and Dean chuckled darkly. "Oh, this is gonna be fun."

"Just shut up and fuck me," you whined, hitting his side with your foot.

"Ah-ah," he tutted. "Bad girls don't get what they want."

You sat up and came nose to nose with him. "If you think for one second that I am going to sit here and play submissive for you-"

Dean laced his fingers through the back of your hair and sharply tugged your head back. You moaned in response. A smile slowly grew over his face and he let go abruptly and shoved you back down. Your back barely hit the mattress before he was yanking off your sleep shorts and underwear in one go, tossing them to the far reaches of the room. You gasped as the cool air from the room hit your core, driving home the fact that you were now completely exposed to him.

"Aw, already so wet for me," Dean jeered, running a finger up your slit roughly. You flinched away from the sudden contact, heat spreading to your face.

"Don't flatter yourself," you gasped as he shoved a finger inside you, curling it vigorously, relishing the wet sounds your pussy produced.

Dean palmed himself through his pajama pants, groaning. He closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them again, he added a second finger inside you, scissoring you open. At least he has the decency to prepare me, you thought.

He yanked his fingers out of you, giving your pussy a quick slap, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling.

"Don't whine," Dean said roughly, getting off the bed and kicking off his pants and boxers. You looked down, unable to help yourself.

You saw where he got all his confidence from. He was big. You practically quivered with anticipation. You loved a good stretch, and you liked it rough, and this was about to be both.

"Like what you see?" Dean mocked, shaking his cock.

"Looks like maybe your confidence isn't completely unwarranted," you admitted dryly. You could feel your combative spirit giving way to lust, but you weren't giving up that easily.

He winked, grabbed your ankles and jerked you to the edge of the bed, your thighs around his waist, your hair fanned out on the blanket behind your head. Dean took hold of your calves and pressed your knees up by your face, leaning over you and pinning you down with his weight again. Only this time, it was way hotter.

"Gonna be good for me?" he asked, voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"In your fucking dreams," you spat.

In one fluid motion, he backed off of you, grabbed you by the waist, and spun you onto your stomach. You squeaked as a heavy hand landed on your ass, much harder than he hit before.

You used your feet, barely touching the floor, to push yourself back towards him, hoping he would get the point and just fuck you already without you having to ask him again.

"So fucking needy," he murmured in your ear. "Use your words, princess."

"Fuck you," you moaned, feeling his cock jerk against your leg.

"Mmm, that's not right," Dean warned, fingers digging into your hips.

You grit your teeth. "Fuck me."

Dean splayed his fingers over your ass cheeks, spreading you open for him, and thrust into you roughly, filling you in one go.

You gasped, feeling his cock throb inside you as your pussy complained against the intrusion and desperately tried to adjust to his size. He groaned as you clenched around him, pulling out slowly and slamming back in.

"Dean," you gasped out. "Don't be such a fucking tease."

"I'll do whatever the fuck I want, princess," Dean growled, his thrusts becoming faster. "You asked for this."

"Technically- you offered," you corrected, eyes screwing shut at the pleasure building inside you with each thrust.

"God, shut- up," Dean griped, punctuating his words with a deep thrust that hit just right, eliciting an embarrassingly loud moan from you.

He just grunted, hips colliding against you, now just chasing his own high. You pressed your face into the bed, clutching the blanket with both fists, fortifying yourself against Dean's relentless pace. His fingers pressed deeply into your hips, carving out a place for him, letting you know you wouldn't be coming away from this encounter unbruised.

"God, you're so fucking tight," Dean rasped, slapping your ass. You moaned in response, unable to think of a witty retort. "Bet it's been a long time since you were fucked, huh?"

When you didn't reply, he slapped your ass again, on the other side, sending fireworks through your core.

"Bet that's why you're so desperate for me," he groaned. "Haven't gotten laid in a while. Bet that's why you're such a bitch, too," he added snarkily.

"Oh, fuck off," you mumbled into the mattress.

Dean pulled out, much to your chagrin, turning you onto your back again. "If you want," he said, eyes glimmering with mischief.

You pouted and whined, hooking your feet around his waist and trying to pull him back. You were rewarded with a sharp slap to your pussy. You cried out from the stimulation.

"Don't whine," he growled, pushing into you again on the last word.

"Sorry," you whispered in spite of yourself, gripping onto his arms as he cages you in with his body.

"What was that?" Dean said, grinning wickedly and thrusting into you sharply.

"Fuck-" you moaned instead, refusing to cooperate.

He wraps his hand around your throat loosely, putting slight pressure just under your jaw. Your eyes widened as he slowly increased the pressure, jeering down at you, still slamming into you at an incredible pace. Your body started to become overwhelmed with all the sensory input and your core tightened.

You knew Dean felt it, because he grimaced. "Gonna come, you little slut?" he taunted, reaching down with his free hand to rub harshly at your clit. A low whine released from the back of your throat.

His grip tightened around your neck to see your reaction. You gasped, straining to get a full breath in, your pussy clenching hard around his cock.

"Such a fucking slut that you're gonna come from being choked out," Dean said through gritted teeth, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Fuck- Dean," you choked out, both hands wrapped around his wrist. He eased up on the pressure some (he didn't want to kill you) and your hands moved desperately up his arm, gripping him tightly.

Dean was getting close, you could tell, but the question remained: would he come before you? And if he did, would he still take care of you? Somehow you doubted it. The self-absorbed jackass was probably going to cum inside you and fall asleep, like almost every other man you'd slept with.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward, shoving his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, breathing heavily in your ear. You clenched in surprise (and also because a man getting desperate was one of the hottest things on the planet).

Dean groaned deeply in response and bit down on your shoulder, hard. You cried out, half from pain and half from the surprising pleasure it sent roaring through you, causing your cunt to squeeze down on him tightly. He practically whimpered, detaching from your skin and pulling out, pumping himself a few times before spilling onto your stomach with a moan.

He looked down at the mess he'd made of you, dragging his fingers through his cum. Then he brought those fingers up to your mouth and pressed them against your lips. "Open."

You scowled at him, once again determined to be contrary.

Dean glared back. "Open, or you don't get to come," he said harshly, forcing his fingers between your lips and teeth.

So he was planning to take care of you. Your neediness returned in full force, and you opened your mouth to allow him to shove his fingers deep into your mouth. You gagged as his fingertips hit the back of your throat, the taste of his cum filling your mouth. He pressed down on your tongue and you dutifully sucked on his fingers as he smirked down at the sight.

"Good little slut," Dean said nastily, obviously feeling proud of himself. He started to pull his fingers out and you closed your teeth, scraping his skin as he did. He slapped your cheek lazily once his hand was free. "Swallow it."

You glared, but did as you were told, sticking out your tongue to prove it.

Dean grinned. "Ready for your reward, princess?"

You moaned needily, throwing your head back and bucking your hips up towards him.

"Such a fucking whore," he chastised, bringing his hand to your clit and stroking around it lazily. A pang of arousal shot through you as you quickly approached the edge again. All thoughts of defiance went out the window as you grinded against his hand.

"Please," you whimpered, squirming under his touch.

"Since you asked so nicely," Dean mocked. He stuffed your pussy with three fingers at once, thrusting and curling them inside you. "Fuckin' dripping, princess."

He brought his other hand to your clit, thumbing it in figure eights in time with his fingers. You gasped as your core tightened. His fingers were bringing you so close to the brink and just keeping you there, never increasing the pressure just enough to push you over.

"Fuuuck," you moaned, panting. "Please, Dean! I need- I need-"

"You need what?" he teased. He twisted his fingers up to your g-spot, simultaneously ceasing his movements on your clit to press down on it hard.

"Oh, God!" you cried out, almost hyperventilating. The feeling of your orgasm building up was almost too much to bear. A dry sob wracked your body.

Dean nipped at your chest, gazing up at your contorted face with eyes so innocent looking you could've sworn, for a moment, that this was not a man you hated with your entire being, who was not currently doing the most sinful things to you with his hands.

You whimpered pathetically. "Please," you said in a small voice. "I need to come so bad." Your face flushed with shame as you finally admit what he's done to you, both with your words and body.

"All you had to do was ask," Dean said, sickly sweet. His hands sparked into motion again, redoubling their efforts. You let out a strangled scream as you were brought right back to the precipice, only this time, surely, he's going to let you?

It was like a pot boiling over, overwhelming heat spreading from your core out through your stomach, making your legs shake and your abs tighten. You made another strangled, desperate noise as you grinded down on his hand.

"That's it, princess, fuck yourself on my fingers," Dean goaded.

You struggled to catch your breath, eyes wide. Your face was hot and wet, and you realized numbly that tears were streaming down your face, running into your hair. He started to take his hands away, but your hands chased them, seizing them and bringing them back to your core.

Dean seemed surprised, but more than willing to fuck you past the point of no return. "Fuck, you just can't get enough, huh," he said, sounding mildly impressed. Your body shook as he all but stilled his fingers inside you, just rubbing your clit slowly until it became too much to bear and you pushed him off.

You laid there panting quietly, your body shivering from the aftershocks of one of the most intense orgasms you'd had in a while. For once, it seemed like Dean didn't know what to say.

You closed your eyes for a moment, then suddenly felt his hand on your clit again, rubbing vigorously. Your eyes flew open and you looked down to see Dean's face set in determination. You clutched at his wrist, trying weakly to get him away, knees trying to close around him, but it didn't take long for you to cum again with a shriek, heels digging into the mattress to push yourself away. Your cunt pulsed around nothing, and you felt a gush of arousal leave you. Dean looked delighted.

"I fucking knew it," he said triumphantly, holding up his hand to survey the mess.

"What?" you asked feebly as another shiver ran through your body.

"Knew you'd be so touch-starved I could get you to squirt," Dean explained smugly. He licked some of your arousal off his hand.

You threw your head back onto the bed exasperatedly. "God, I hate you."

"Could've fooled me," he returned, displaying his hand to you and smirking.

dividers once again by @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[scribefindegil]

Lorraine Baines McFly and Female Autonomy

Hello. I have spent the past month slowly losing my mind about Lorraine Baines McFly, Marty's mom in Back to the Future, so I am finally trying to articulate some of the reasons I'm so feral about her.

There's a quote from Lea Thompson, the actress who played Lorraine, that goes, "The three parts that women usually get to play are virgins, whores, and mothers, and in Back to the Future Part II, I got to play all three." While this is commentary on Hollywood and the limited roles that fictional women get forced into, I think it's also interesting to think about it in terms of how these roles are reflected onto actual women and used to limit their personhood and confine them to a very narrow range of acceptable behaviors . . . and then in turn to think about how the character interacts with these roles on a Watsonian level. They're affecting not just Lorraine the character as she was written, but Lorraine from an in-universe perspective trying to navigate life as a woman in a patriarchal world. Some of the sexism she faces is a deliberate narrative choice and some of it is a result of the writers' blind spots, but for the purpose of this essay I'm less interested in teasing out which threads are which and more in looking at it holistically.

Because the thing about Lorraine is that she's aware of what the acceptable roles and behaviors for women are, and the versions that we see of her across the various timelines alternately fight against and capitulate to these constraints. What is a woman allowed to be? How much is Lorraine willing to break from those restrictions? How much does she allow other women to break from them? Does she resent her role or embrace it? I have a lot of thoughts specifically about how the different iterations of her interact with concepts of female agency and autonomy.

(Putting this under a cut because it is. Long.)

I started thinking about this when I was talking with my partner about 50's Lorraine. She's extremely active and driven and planning to Get What She Wants (in a way that is very scary, if you are Marty) . . . but at the same time she's clearly aware that she isn't supposed to be. A Good Fifties Girl is demure and passive. Lorraine isn't--but she's still trying to toe the line. I think constantly about the scene where she shows up at Doc's garage to be like "I followed you home . . . so that I can ask you to ask me to the dance." The girl can embrace borderline stalking but she draws the line at directly asking a boy out! She's exercising a lot of agency but views doing so as rebellious and subversive--and risky.

And I also want to talk about the whole "boy crazy" thing because like . . . society (especially in the fifties) tells women that the most important thing they can possibly do is find a good man and become wives and mothers, that this will define the success or failure of their entire lives (and given how many things were unavailable to single women at the time this is in many ways true) . . . and then relentlessly mocks and punishes anyone who actually takes an interest in pursuing this instead of just sitting back passively and waiting. She is trying to do what society says will make her happy! And even her desire for a white knight is very much based in the reality of her situation! She's getting sexually harassed at school and around town and she's doing exactly what she's supposed to and standing up for herself and saying no and fighting back--and this is not enough. She does need backup! Biff harasses her in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and Marty is the ONLY person who does anything! No fucking wonder she latches onto him as hard as she does! (There's. I promise this is related but there's a BttF parody musical on YouTube where when Strickland comes to break up the lunchroom fight he says, "Now, I can excuse sexual harassment, but LIGHT SHOVING?" and like it's a haha funny joke but also?? Yeah?? That IS how it works. The way Lorraine's being treated is so overlooked and normalized that the authority figure isn't going to step up the way he will when it's a physical altercation between two guys. Screams.) I wonder if part of the reason she stuck with George in the original timeline even though they didn't have a lot in common is that "I have a boyfriend" is a boundary that some people might actually take seriously whereas "I'm not interested" is not.

But. In general 50's Lorraine is very much about grabbing as much agency as she feels she's allowed to . . . and then Twin Pines Lorraine is what happens when she regrets the result of those choices (because while we don't see it, it's pretty obvious that in the original timeline she pursued George as aggressively as she pursues Marty in the new one), and so she decides to deny, not just her own agency, but female agency as a general concept. She leans so heavily on the idea that her relationship was "meant to be" because it absolves her of any culpability in creating a life she's unhappy with. She's rewritten her own past to view herself as a passive participant in something inevitable. (Exactly the view of womanhood that she was fighting so hard against in the 50's!) And she extends this idea of female passivity to the women around her: telling Linda that she should sit back and wait and a relationship will "just happen," actively resenting Jennifer for doing something as simple as calling Marty on the phone. It's a really interesting form of internalized misogyny, perpetuating these sexist ideas as almost a misguided form of self-defense.

And then for Lone Pine Lorraine this is completely flipped! She loves Jennifer for the same reason she disliked her in Twin Pines: because she reminds Lorraine of her younger self. And like . . . this is something of an extrapolation, but while obviously her husband and kids are still very important to her, it also feels like she has interests and friends and other things going on in her life, whereas part of the isolation of Twin Pines is that her life has shrunk down to the point where she's ONLY a wife and mother with nothing else to define herself by. And it also matters that in this timeline she has a partner that supports her, not just in the big dramatic moments (although also that), but you can easily see the dance as a catalyst for George actually learning to listen to her and stand up for her about smaller things as well. George McFly feminism arc. (I'm being slightly facetious but like. George starts off kind of shitty. The spying is actively Bad and I hope Marty chewed him out for it offscreen, but also his reaction to the harassment scene being "I think there's someone else she'd rather go with," implying that he sees what Biff is doing as like. Normal flirting that he expects to work. He doesn't GET it. Unsurprising because he is. A teenage boy in the fifties. But I do believe that saving Lorraine was something of a wakeup call and after that he listened to her about things that make her uncomfortable and gave her the support that she needed. Which would also give her a lot more freedom in this timeline because she has someone with more societal power who has her back!)

And then. Hell Valley.

If Lone Pine is the version of Lorraine who has the most freedom, the most opportunities to make decisions based on what she wants instead of What Is Expected Of A Woman, Hell Valley is the opposite. The things denying her agency in Twin Pines is largely societal forces (and herself); in Hell Valley she is actively being denied autonomy by her evil husband who functions as the personification of a bunch of sexist ideas.

She's been objectified to the point that she doesn't maintain control over her own body; Biff pressures her to get cosmetic surgeries so she can continue to look attractive to him because that's the only value he sees in her. Her physical appearance is entirely tailored to his preferences.

Biff's view of Lorraine is wife-as-possession. He treats her like a prize he's won and her kids like parasites. And he is NOT subtle about this. But Lorraine is still desperately clinging to the idea that she's wife-as-family. She calls Biff "your father" to Marty when he arrives, and talks about "our children" because she wants so so badly for this to be something different than what it is. It's especially terrible because this is a timeline where she got seventeen years of being happy with George, she knows what she's missing, and she keeps trying to force this new relationship into a similar mold even though Biff is openly contemptuous of her and especially her kids. It's been twelve years and she's still trying to pretend. To call back to that Lea Thompson quote: it's obvious where Biff thinks Lorraine fits on the virgin-mother-whore axis, while Lorraine is actively trying to centralize her motherhood partially because the kids really are that important to her and partially as a defense mechanism.

(And it's also such a bleak cautionary tale about how fragile women's stability can be when they're dependent on their husbands; Lorraine was happy with George and had a fair amount of freedom, but he was the only one with an income so when he died she was suddenly forced into a truly horrific situation because she had no other means to support herself and her three young children. Especially given that the Hell Valley universe is also worse in some broader political ways that mean there were probably even fewer social supports available than in real life 1973)

And god. It kills me the way that we see her lash out, the way she's clawing for autonomy when she threatens to leave . . . and then exactly how Biff levels all his axes of control against her. It's very interesting that his first tactic is consumerist (Who will pay for all your things? Who will take care of you?) and that doesn't work even though not being able to support herself is a very real concern. It's only when he threatens her kids that she folds. And then she immediately crumples and pivots to rationalizing Biff's behavior and blaming herself for her own abuse (in a way that is both HEARTBREAKING and also? surprisingly sympathetic and realistic for an 80's movie?). It's similar to the passivity we see in Twin Pines, but here we see exactly where it comes from. She doesn't have any way out so she has to pretend. It's the only way she can keep going. She has these flashes of rage but they're immediately snuffed out by despair and denial.

There's not a lot of talk about Lorraine and what there is tends to reduce her to "well she's Marty's mom" as if she's a boring character who doesn't have a lot going on. But even though most of her role in the movies has to do with her relationships with the various men in her life, those relationships are really interesting if you actually pay attention to them! She's not just (in the 80's) a wife and mother--she's someone who has a complex relationship with marriage and motherhood and the societal expectations surrounding them. She's not just (in the 50's) a vapid boy-crazy girl--she's doing her best to go after what she wants in a world that doesn't want her to (the fact that one of the things she wants turns out to be her time-traveling son from the future is unfortunate but not something she has any way of knowing!). She's stuck in a society that doesn't want women to be people, and she knows this, and because we see her across two different time periods and three different timelines you can watch how sometimes society grinds her down until she gives in and tries not to be a person. And also how, sometimes, she fights back.

[tea-plantz]

ahoy🗣️

can I request an anxiety/reader where reader represents the Love emotion?

like we're a little extroverted and flirty (and kinda serve tbh) but we are gentler around her and help her calm down when she's about to have an attack?

(I'm normal about her I swear💪)

Ahoy to you too! Yess I finally got a request for my girl!! She’s so cute, I swear-

Anyway, that’s an awesome request, I love the concept of the reader being a Love emotion!

~Anxiety x Love emotion reader hcs~

Anxiety wasn’t really interested in romance, partly because she figured she didn’t have a shot at it anyway, and because she thought it seemed way too stressful. That was until a new emotion appeared in the HQ, the Love emotion.

You were so sweet, kind, pretty and even flirtatious, causing the small orange emotion to quickly become smitten.

She would feel her heartbeat speed up x100 whenever you were around.

The poor girl constantly stressed about making a good impression on you, seeming interesting, and wanting to know more about you, but she couldn’t let you know that she’s excited, or else she would seem too intense, and so on.

Since you represented the emotion of love, your job would be to control Riley’s crushes, feelings of love, horniness, and all that. Anxiety would love to watch you work, observing as your hands glided over the console, making it light up with a soft, pink color. She swoons over everything you do

Anxiety sometimes even slightly envied you. Your job was to make Riley feel all these positive and exciting feelings, whilst hers was to worry her and make her anxious. She knew it was all to protect their girl, but she didn’t wanna feel like a burden. On top of that, you were also so extrovert and outgoing, speaking so easily with all of the emotions, even Ennui, which was something she admired and slightly envied as well. She would overthink it, feeling like she wasn’t a good enough conversationalist, and fearing that she came off as boring to you.

The fact that you where so flirty towards all the emotions, but more gentle around her would leave her with sleepless nights filled with overthinking.

“They act so flirtatiously towards everybody, but somehow different towards me! I mean, they’re still flirting, but it still feels different! Does that mean they like me less?! Oh no no no, that would be so bad! But what if they do..? And then they’ll slowly stop talking to me, because they secretly hate me, then they’ll stop looking at me, or even being in the same room as me, and I’ll die alone! Ah!!”

She always thinks so negatively about every single situation, not concerning that it could be because you liked her.

It was only after you helped her calm down when she was about to have an anxiety attack that she realized that maybe her feelings were mutual. The way you had gently hugged her, rubbed soothing circles on her back,y kissed her head and whispered sweet nothings into her ear made her absolutely melt. She knew she needed to confess, or else it would drive her insane!

Anxiety spend many many nights, filling out countless notebooks with her frantic writing, trying to figure out the perfect way to confess. She knew you loved romance, so she wanted to be romantic and sweep you off your feet. One problem though, she was very bad at romance… like… really bad. After the made the perfect plan she practiced again and again before she actually mustered up the courage to confess.

She wrote a whole ass 5 page long script on what to say, and a backup script for when if you rejected her. She didn’t hope that would happen, of course not, but she thought you would, always preparing for the worst case scenarios.

Assuming you said yes to her cheesy little confession, Anxiety would be thrilled! You, the glamorous, lovely, super pretty, sweet and confident emotion that you were, wanted to date little ol’ her!! She almost couldn’t believe it!

She definitely cried

It would take the poor girl a long time to settle into the relationship, but with you showering her with love, affection and kisses, not to mention words of reassurance, everyday, she would quickly feel safe and relaxed in the new relationship.

You two would give off major Jessica and Roger Rabbit vibes.

Even though you might be kind of opposites, you both fit really well together. She appreciates you and all of your affection so much, it always helps with calming her down whenever she can’t sleep, or starts stressing out too much.

Anxiety loves it when you flirt with her, but would quickly become overwhelmed if you where too seductive, leaving her brain completely fried and her hands jittery.

She also loves it when you declare your love to her, but she would become way too anxious or overstimulated if you preformed some kind of grand gesture. Instead, she would much rather prefer if you did smaller stuff, like send her love letters, surprise her with hugs and kisses, cuddle with her or enjoy a cozy stay at home date<3

[ghouldtime]

I need more neighbor König getting protective over his little neighbor.

I do believe he can get very possessive, though I'm not sure that's the word I'm looking for. But he's lost so much, so many people in his unit and people he had once considered friends. He won't even visit his own mother because he's scared for her safety. Maybe an enemy finds out some way some how about her and takes her as leverage. Now she gets to see colonel konig with his gear and mask and barking orders and not the sweet man she's come to know. How would he react or feel?

Ofc when she realizes it's just him and throws her arms around him

I'm sorry but I'm answering this because this doesn't fall under my characterization of him 😭 I can do the last part maybe one day when I'm not sick and have planned everything out in my mind THOROUGHLY

I know you meant no harm by this either!! This is just a bit of a rambly tangent to describe WHO my König is and why he's that way.

(Also stating that reader in neighbor isn't explicitly a she nor are they little in the same way. I write gender neutral for a reason! They're a grown adult)

Like I know it's just an imagine and possible scenario but for me I just don't really see it happening unless quite literally EVERYTHING went wrong. He's got plan A, plan B, plan C, D, and E. Always be prepared.

But it strikes me as unlikely in happening at all as he is a VERY cautious man and does what he can to remove his identity as König from his residential life. He keeps his gear under lock and key, he doesn't tell personal details of his work, he doesn't want to track ANY of that back. His field life isn't his personal life and he's intent on keeping that separated. Anything that could be used to identify him, he doesn't keep around or its hidden so NO ONE would suspect it.

It would take some absolute major intel and someone working within KorTac itself to follow him like that - even then, dude is a bit paranoid. He's got a security system for a reason, he doesn't wear his mask in public, his body is covered up usually by the long clothes he wears, he's not out socializing - he's just blending in. He's watching cars that pass, he usually keeps curtains drawn or has privacy film, he knows who drives what car and their schedules - so if it's off, he's picking it up.

The way he's protective is in his actions - that's WHY he won't tell details of his work, that's WHY he works hard to ensure personal life doesn't meddle with what his job is, that's WHY he has backup plans. That's WHY he makes sure they get a security system too, if they haven't had one already. That's why he makes sure they're trained in self defense and have at least some form of weapon at the ready, even though they ARE in a safe area. He's protective in the sense of "I'm doing what I can to prevent that aspect of my life from coming into yours" , he's protective in the sense of "I've seen what people are capable of, I've protected myself so I'm protecting you too as much as I can because you matter to me". He's protective in the sense he's caring, he's going out of his way to make sure you're safe.

But he's not going to be protective in the sense of "let me be with you constantly" or "who were you talking to???" or "Why didn't you invite me". Reader is a grown, independent adult and he's aware of that. He's respectful of that and knows they're capable of caring for themselves too. Being IN their life doesn't mean he IS their life. They both operate in their own lives and have their own interests and both, as such, need alone time and time to spend with others too. That's just how to have healthy relationships.

He's very independent himself and having another person around as his friend has taken a significant adjustment period. Honestly, it takes a long time for him to even register that he can go do things with them. He's so used to being on his own that it has to catch up.

And I'm going to say that my König is NEVER possessive towards people. Never. Possessive implies treating them like an object or piece of property, like they're something that's his alone. Possessive means great insecurity in his sense of relationships to the extent where he's manipulating them and monopolizing their lives for his gain.

He's not, because he's a well adjusted adult who has been to therapy throughout his life to manage his own insecurities, especially involving interpersonal relationships. Hell, when he STARTED to even get feelings for neighbor, he brought it up to said therapist just to be sure he's going down the right path. He's built a set of healthy behaviors to cope with unhealthy feelings that may arise.

He gets jealous, especially initially, but once again - he's a grown adult and is capable of handling his own insecurities in a productive way. Everyone is allowed to have more than one person in their lives and a healthy network of relationships matters.

Protective? Yes. Possessive? Absolutely not. He respects independence as he himself is that way. He wants to spend as much time as possible with his neighbor but he realizes that he too needs his own space and time to recharge, and he can't be singularly focused on one person alone. His primary concern is their safety, no matter what they do.

He's lost many comrades and brothers in arms but that's also bound to happen in his line of work. This might sound brutal, but he's desensitized to it to a degree. Losing someone is never easy, but it's expected. The blow will always hurt but when it's always a possibility, it never wanes. He's wary of it and aware of it, and losing any friends he made happened earlier on in the army before his private contracting days. It numbed him too it and set the precedent for his relationships with anyone and is why he's so guarded.

After then, he's not really had many friends. Not that he had many to begin with but he doesn't go out of his way to get close to others. Acquaintances and work buddies? Yes. But friends are a rarity as he's really rather unapproachable. He's there to do his job, he's there to take people down and get paid, he's wary of getting close to ANYONE knowing they can be taken at any moment. He'll work with them, he'll know them, he'll be proud of them - but making friends and forming personal relationships like that in a private military contracting company is a bad idea, when they can easily swap over to the other side if they're offered more pay. He's seen it happen, he knows it's a real possibility.

That's why he picks any personal relationships closely and takes eons to warm up. His social anxiety, as well managed as it is, doesn't make it any easier. He knows what can happen, so he prepares as best as he can. Which INCLUDES being protective and prepared, and planning accordingly. If he's letting anyone into his life, he's already got a game plan for what he'll do.

And no, he DOES visit his mother, as I've stated! As much as his work allows and as much as possible, he does visit. He just doesn't live with or near her. He can easily visit throughout the year when his schedule allows and its sporadic, with no rhyme or reason. He doesn't take repeating cars, he doesn't do anything in a pattern that can be tracked. He's also made sure she's secure in her home too so it's unlikely things will happen, but he won't flat out not communicate with her and not see her at all. He's just smart and careful about it! He can't bare to never see her again.

I'm sorry but my König just doesn't fall under how most people portray him or see him. He's just a guy with his own personal issues. And like the proper guy that he is, he manages them and knows its his responsibility to do such. He's extensively gone to therapy, he's worked on himself, he knows where he stands.

Sure, he's still prone to jealousy and a touch of paranoia, but that doesn't mean he lacks the skills to work through them. He communicates like an adult with whatever he's feeling. Expressing it can be hard but he DOES get it out there and he also heavily respects reader's own autonomy. They're an adult, so is he. He'll protect them and do what he can, he'll care about them, but he will never seek to control them or treat them like something for only HIM to have. He's not and will never be a "they're MINE and NO ONE touches what's mine" - that's just not him to me. I don't write him as a big, broody dommy guy who is growling every sentence or can't handle others talking to someone he likes.

To me, he's just a dude. An introverted guy who likes to sew ridiculous pillows and tend to his garden who is happy in the home he made for himself. He's comfortable with who he is and where he stands. He can communicate properly, knows how to respect boundaries, and likes seeing others who matter to him happy in their lives as they establish a supportive network. Just because he isn't always with them or going with them doesn't mean they can't take care of themselves or he HAS to be there. He's not some ultra possessive dude because he has healthy understandings of boundaries and knows the world doesn't revolve around him and his wants (also he wouldn't WANT them to depend on him and him alone when its very possible he too will die on the field one day). He's not always going to look over your shoulder or instantly treat any other person as a threat.

He's seasoned with the things he's seen and is wary enough to be protective and to do what he knows to prevent what he's seen happen. He's cautious, he's considerate, he's caring - and he's not a cunt about it. Really, he's just perceptive and accepts what can happen so he tries to set up anyone in his life for success to avoid what he's seen and to keep them from harm. He can't always be there, he knows he can't, so ensuring that those around him who he DOES care about have a proper, healthy network of friends around for support and have a game plan for if shit hits the fan (as well as a system to enact it) is his way of showing he cares and can always be with them and help, even if he's long gone or buried six feet under.

[iiyoshi]

Your Pain

Reply : Hello love! Thank you so much for being my first request <3 I love the idea of this and now is perfect timing because I'm having cramps of my own and I desperately need men to coo me to sleep (Yes I'm mentally very immature)

Summary : How the HP men first react to, and how they now react to, Reader on their period

Pairing(s) : Severus Snape x Reader, Lucius Malfoy x Reader, Remus Lupin x Reader, Sirius Black x Reader

Warnings : Mentions of period blood?? Idk if that triggers people

Fandom : Harry Potter

A/N : I may have gone a bit biased with who gets the more detailed description.. I'm sorry i can't help it

Requested By : @serenity-noble

Read under the cut <3

Severus Snape

If you were Snape's lover :

Severus is inexperienced with things like this, so when he first learns about menstruation, the only thing he does is panick

There's more panicking

He tries his best to make you feel comfortable and gets you whatever you ask for

He, reluctantly, has to turn to Minerva for help when you're in too much pain and he's panicking not sure how to help

He gets you just a bit too much chocolate, trying his best to fulfill your cravings

As you're in bed and sudden cramps kick in, he'll immediately leave and get you water and anything else you need

After a while, he'll learn what to do during your period and will always have backup plans up his sleeve

He marks down when your period cycle is and before then, buys you all the essentials just in case

At night, he cuddles next to you and rubs circles on your back in order to soothe you from your pain.

"It hurts, Sev.."

"I know it does, my love. But you're doing amazing. Now go to sleep."

If you were Snape's student :

You get your first period and you're scared to death

There's blood coming out of you and it scares you

You hurry to your head of house, Professor Snape, late at night because he's probably the only one awake at the time

He's awake in his office as you explain to him how you've been cursed and you're now dying

He tries his best to calm you down and, quite reluctantly, explains what menstruation is

"It's normal, silly girl. It's just mother nature paying you a visit."

"She's trying to kill me?!"

"No, you dunderhead! It's just Aunt Flo."

"I have an Aunt?"

"That time of the month? Lady business? Girl fluid? Shark week? Riding the Cotton Pony?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake! You're on your period!"

Lucius Malfoy

Lucius would act like he doesn't care

Meanwhile he would kill anyone just to get you everything you need

He's hooked up with a lot of chicks before so he's very experienced

He knows what to get you and will get it for you asap

He tells you to stay in bed and shuts anyone and everyone away from your room

He tries his best to make time for you

At night, he pulls you close to him and covers you in kisses, trying to lull you to sleep

When you whine about your cramps he doesn't complain and reassures you you'll be alright

Throught the week he'd constantly skip work just to stay at home longer with you

"Go work, Lucius."

"I'm staying here."

"Your work is important."

"So are you."

Remus Lupin

Remus isn't as experienced with handling with situations like these, but he tries his best to help you

He's calm most of the time, listening to your needs and getting you what you desire

He'll always have your favourite snack prepared when it's almost that time of the month and he's never afraid to get you more

When your cramps start to kick in, he lays with you on the sofa and watches your favourite Muggle show with you while wrapped in a blanket

If you accidentally make a mess he shushes your apologies and spells it away, reassuring you it was an accident

He's the type of guy to give cuddles more because it's what soothes him when it's nearly the full moon

He, as annoying as you may find it, gives you a curfew and you must be in bed by 10pm

"Moony, it's still early.."

"I know, (Y/n). But you're losing a lot of blood and you need to rest to fill back up your energy."

"But-"

"No buts. Goodnight, little wolf. I'll be right here next to you."

Sirius Black

Sirius immediately knows when you're on your period, thanks to his sensitive sense of smell

He doesn't mind it at all and sticks around you endlessly

When you feel too weak to grab things, he gets them for you

He showers you in endless amounts of love and affection

When you have cravings, he somehow manages to get them for you asap

He'll stay up with you on the couch when he knows you're in too much pain to sleep

Being an animagus has its perks and Padfoot has his fairshare of moments

He knows how much you enjoy cuddling with his furry tail in bed so every night he turns into Padfoot and lays beside you

You stroke his fur slowly and just simply admire him, already soothing your cramps

You tend to rub him under his chin and he'd bark in response

"Goodnight, Sirius. I love you."

*bark*

- × - × - × - × - × - × - × -

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[yanderambling]

BRO just binged all ur stuff and i’m obsessed and i saw you take requests,,, so get this: hero from the yandere henchmen story is also yandere for villain reader O.O doesn’t have to be the same reader if u don’t want i just think it would be fun lolol

ahhh i'm so glad to hear that, and this is such a good idea!! this one's a bit short because i'm low on writing inspo and also energy :( but you can always request again if you'd like more ~

concept: Hero!Yandere(gn) x Villain!Reader(gn)

words: ~700

CW: 18+, yandere behavior, violence, masochism, very suggestive, short and not well proofed :)

Emyr is certain that their feelings for you are completely casual and appropriate.

Of course they get worked up over you, you're their nemesis!

It's normal for a hero to have a nemesis, to focus on one villain above all the others (even in the event that the villain has been radio silent for over a week while countless others wreak havoc on the city, even if they have to ignore all their friends constantly signaling them for backup against said villains; you're planning something, they know it, and it's their responsibility to be ready to stop you!)

And it's normal for a hero to get violently upset when they discover another hero had an encounter with that nemesis.

Just like it's completely normal for a hero to accidentally leave their friend totally vulnerable in deadly combat just days after that discovery.

They're dedicated to taking down a particularly dangerous evildoer, and people make mistakes in the heat of battles; this is all normal.

They don't think it's wrong to get so excited when their call signal goes off (one they had made specifically for calls about you), they're just passionate about stopping evil!

They don't think it's wrong to feel a shiver of anticipation tingle up their spine on the occasions you get the upper hand in battle (it's a stressful situation!), and they chalk it up to temporary shock when they find themself frozen, helpless to stop your weapons (or, god, hands) from tearing into them.

They don't think it's wrong to feel their heart race at the very thought of you, to hear the blood pounding in their ears every time they picture your manic smile or your sweaty, feral form- of course memories of their enemy will spike their adrenaline!

They don't think it's wrong to collect the odd weapons you sometimes forget after fights, to hold them tight in their hands and feel the residual warmth of your skin, to imagine how you might use each one on them, (to use them on themself and picture your disgust at the pleasure they derive from it...).

It's just important to know your enemy, is all.

It's not strange that they spend most nights skulking around your lair, using their super-vision to watch you go about your business through the thick walls, using their enhanced hearing to pick up every shift of your skin against your clothing (god how do you look even more ethereal in your casual clothes?); it's just routine surveillance!

And it's not strange that they set up multiple cameras (hidden with great effort) to catch glimpses inside when they can't be there.

(And it's not strange that they collect all their footage at the end of each day and splice together every shot where you're even slightly indecent, that they watch these perverted montages to get themself off every night, that they constantly have to wipe drool and spunk off their monitor just to catch another glimpse of your sinful body.)

It's not wrong that you occupy their thoughts every second of the day, waking or otherwise.

It's not wrong that they fall asleep every night to the memory of your vicious smirk looming over them in the wake of a rare defeat- in fact, it's motivating to recall past failure, to figure out where they went awry so they never fall into that position again (with your strong legs straddling their body, every muscle tensed against them, your wild eyes locking their gaze to yours as you both pant with exertion, a blade pressed to their throat just enough for them to feel beads of blood trickle down their neck- the only thing saving them from the pressure on their throat and crotch alike being a vigilante group arriving and causing you to make a "strategic retreat").

It's also not wrong that they keep fiddling with the wounds you've given them, pulling and scratching and reopening them again and again until they scar, because they do it for the reminder.

So they can stop it from happening again.

Definitely not so they can pretend it's your fingers digging into their skin, that your sharp eyes are watching in disdain as they moan at the stinging pain, that your cruel smile is hanging over them mockingly while they get worked up over so very little, that you've finally gotten the better of them for good and intend to use them mercilessly for your own desires...

Definitely not that.

...

So, basically, in conclusion: Emyr is completely normal about you.

And will forever continue to be.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post ~

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 12

wc: 2.6k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), reader flirting with Jay for strategic reasons

warnings: sort of kind of dubcon ish only bc reader uses a truth serum on someone but it's contextually ethical and nothing shady happens, made up wonderland plants by yours truly, reader shakes them feminine wiles to get info in a very sfw way

summary: you brew a special blend of tea with the sole purpose of spilling tea with a friend of Mal's.

song recs: what baking can do - waitress OBC, power and control - marina, something bad - wicked obc

a/n: your outfit (it's the same one as ch11), also HI I MISSED YALL. things have been CONSTANTLY happening and good news is I'm finally on the right dose of adderall so I was able to knock out the last part of this chapter in like 20 minutes or smth lol. ily all and if I missed you in the tag list just hoot n holler at me in the tags!!

also candorcorn root is a made up plant that makes people tell the truth, and neutrestnuts are a made up wonderland chestnut that neutralize things

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Your mind is reeling as you go over the elements of the strategy before you again and again. You have the candorcorn root - from the right side of the plant, of course - in a small pouch. You carry it into the school kitchens, gather the rest of your ingredients, and lay them out in a meticulous sort of mise en place. You let out a long puff of air out of your pursed lips, staying in a deep focus as you begin to do something you’ve done a thousand times before.

Brew a pot of tea.

You brew the candorcorn root into a strong concentrate, so strong it makes your eyes water. You set it aside to boil down as you settle on what the body of this beverage will be composed of. Candorcorn root is known for having a strong, bitter taste - sometimes with a sweet aftertaste depending on the truth that’s revealed, but you’re not counting on a particularly sweet truth under the current circumstances. 

To hide some of the earthy bite, you begin making your own blend of different dried herbs, spices, and tea leaves. You start with a base of English dinner - it’s much too late in the evening for English breakfast, even in tea form - then carefully whisk in a little bit of matcha. Once that’s steeping and nicely blended together, you muddle in a few fresh cranberries. You add in a healthy dose of your favorite Port Royal vanilla to lighten the flavor profile and minimize suspicion. 

Feeling mischievous, you add in a few mint leaves to the mix. After it brews together, you waft the steam into your nose. It smells… irresistible. Your mouth waters, and you scribble down the recipe on a napkin to make again later - sans the candorcorn root concentrate, of course. You check your pocket watch, and the time for action is growing nearer and nearer. You bite the crook of your finger in consideration. 

Your mother always used to tell you, the way to a man’s stomach is through his heart, and the way to his heart is through his chest cavity. You suppose it would be a rather good, sensible decision to have a backup plan of sorts. As bizarre as it is to think, you are aware that not everyone drinks tea - especially not as often as you do. You hum and rock on your heels anxiously, eyes darting around the kitchen as the self imposed deadline you’ve set marches coldly closer. 

“Wait,” you murmur, freezing as you get an idea. 

You begin digging through the kitchens as quickly as you can, looking for a few things. If you can get them together, you won’t need to worry about ensuring the specialty tea is consumed in full. You rifle through cupboards and pantry shelves, gathering chocolate spread, a large box of fluffy, cake-like cookies, hot chocolate powder, and a small jar of currents. You look around some more, huffing in irritated frustration at the lack of proper tea biscuits in the kitchen. 

Your disappointment is short lived, however, when you remember the large supply of tea biscuits you always carry around with you for just this sort of emergency. You reach into your teapot bag and pull out your sewing kit, then proceed to swiftly open it up and dump out all the biscuits it contains. Your sewing supplies is kept in a biscuit tin, of course, otherwise you’d get them all mixed up and find yourself hemming your trousers with snickerdoodles. A preposterous idea, of course, everyone knows that biscotti are best for mending trousers. 

The last crumbs fall and you’re brought back to the task at hand. Or rather, at foot, since that’s where the rest of the crumbs land when you stuff the empty tin back into your bag. You let out a shaky but determined breath, and begin to get to work as swiftly as you can manage. You falter once more, realizing that gloves are most likely in order here. You can only find your backup gloves, white and silky with a little pearl in the center of each wrist, but you suppose they’ll have to do.

It’s with a surgical sort of precision that you begin, soaking the biscuits in the candorcorn root concentrate just long enough to get soft around the edges. You lay out each biscuit meticulously, then slather them in a layer of chocolate spread and thick whipped cream. You repeat the process again and again until you’ve a little stack before you. 

Once satisfied with the deceptive desert before you, you top it off with more chocolate spread and a heavy dusting of powdered cocoa mix, sure that the sugary chocolate will balance out the earthy, bitter taste of the candorcorn root. You garnish the top with a few strategically placed dried currants, spelling out eat me along the top. 

You remove your gloves, careful not to get any candorcorn root on your bare hands, then make up another little pastry. The second one, however, is free of any Wonderland serums or juices, and instead is garnished with a few comfits from the container you keep with you - a habit you’d picked up from your mother. 

You next prepare a perfect cup of your brew, then a second containing your secret ingredient. Gloves, of course, are worn during that second step. Your cup is garnished with a piece of fig, the other with a cherry stuck along the rim of the tea cup, bleeding down onto the side. You place everything onto a silver tray, as tenderly as if you were in the middle of diffusing a bomb, and exit the kitchen with it in your only slightly trembling hands. 

You let out a steadying breath as you ascend the stairs in the great hall, making the turn towards the boys dorms. Stopping at an open window, you let out a whistle, signaling to a waiting bluebird that you’re ready, and to send word to your companions for the evening. You walk down the hall as silently as a ghost, only stopping when you hear rowdy yelling coming from behind a particular door. Your heart pounds in your chest, and after a few thrumming pulses, a large cat pads up to you, accompanied by a doormouse. 

“Alright,” you breathe solemnly, “it’s now or ever.” 

The doormouse skitters up to the knob, slipping into the lock and popping it open with a click. It slides down and scurries to safety, and you do the same, moving a few feet away and hiding in an alcove. The cat, brave and noble, slowly enters the room via the now ajar door. It only takes a few moments for the chaos to ensue. 

The silent, still hallway is filled with a riot of barking and yowling as the cat speeds out of the room like a bolt out of blue. She’s followed, of course, by Duke; and Duke is naturally followed by Carlos. They all shout and skitter down the hall, around the stairs, and deeper into the school until they’re out of earshot. You steady yourself, wait a moment, then poke your head into the room, now only occupied by one person. 

Jay.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask coyly from the doorway, blinking up at him. Jay seems surprised to see you, and answers around button mashing his way through the level he’s playing. 

“Uh,” He replies, distracted as he continues to look at the screen. “Yeah.”

He lets out a long string of curses as he takes a nasty hit, hemorrhaging hp when he’s nearly done with the level. There’s still a chance, and he continues to fixate on the screen. 

Perfect, you think.  

Using your foot, you gently nudge the door closed with a click. You reach behind you, flicking the lock closed, and walk forward. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your winning streak,” you say with a cute smile, deliberately stroking his ego. “I just couldn’t wait until morning to tell you what an amazing job you’ve been doing at tourney.”

That gets his attention. Some of it, at least. 

“Oh, word?” He asks, smirking as he glaces away from the screen a little more. You nod, humming sweetly in response. You keep your eyes trained on him while you reach into your bag and slip on your gloves. You pick up his tiramisu and slink over to his bed, breaking off a moist, chocolaty bite with a fork. 

“Your athletic performance was… nothing short of inspiring.” You say slowly, bringing up the fork to his lips. “I bake when inspired.”

He chuckles, getting that cocky, flirtatious look on his face. He opens his mouth to reply with something you could only assume would be cockier than a spaniel, and in that moment, he presents the perfect opportunity for you to ensure he eats the first bite of your special pastry. He startles a little, then hums in approval at the enticing taste. You hand him the plate and offer him the cherry garnished tea, then remove your gloves, careful not to cross contaminate your dishes from his. 

“This is really good,” Jay says, and you smile more slyly than a Cheshire cat. “So,” you begin, dragging your fingertips across his wrist when he accepts the beverage from you, “tell me.”

You lean in like you’re utterly fascinated by him, like you can’t wait a moment more to learn all there is to know about him. 

“How is it that someone as…” you trail off with a breathy sigh. “Rugged… as you is still flying solo, as it were?”

You take a sip from your cup, gaze locked onto his, scrutinizing each quirk of his brow and twitch of his smirk, searching for anything he might reveal beyond his words.

“Well,” he starts, puffing his chest and acting all cool and nonchalant. “You know, playing the field is a full time job.”

“Both of them.” You hum. He looks at you blankly. You shake your head. 

“Nevermind.” You murmur. You can feel yourself growing antsy. You’re not sure how long your dear cat friend will keep Dude and Carlos distracted, and Jay’s had enough candorcorn root syrup to testify in front of a parliament of owls. It’s time to cut through the detritus and root around until you find what you’re really here for. You set down your teacup, leaning forward.

“Dating must be so hard coming from somewhere like the Isle.” 

He starts to answer, but you don’t pay much mind, continuing your train of thought. 

“It’s just… if someone as enticing as you hasn’t been locked down yet, how is it that Mal managed to get a prince like Ben wrapped around her finger so quickly?”

Jay puffs out his chest, laughing at your flattery and taking another bite of the tiramisu. 

“Well, I’m not really at liberty to say,” he starts, leaning casually and flexing his arms as he stretches. “But let’s just say Mal really worked her magic on him, you know?”

He laughs, and your stomach sinks. You have to remind yourself to manually laugh along with him. 

“Really,” you tease, leaning closer. “And what sort of magic would that be?”

“Oh, you know Mal and her freaky mind control thing.” He chuckles, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes to mimic when hers glow. 

“But when you’re out on the tourney field…”

He continues boasting about his sportic success, but your mind is entirely elsewhere. Mind control. Of course. You wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner. Mind control, the same trance Mal’s mother used to lure Aurora up to the spinning wheel. Your heart starts thudding painfully in your chest as your mind races, grappling with the ramifications of what this could mean, the danger Ben and all of Auradon could be in. 

You stand up quickly, reaching into your tea pot bag and pulling out a few neutrestnuts you’d snagged from your last trip to Wonderland. You smack one loudly against Jay’s bedpost, cracking it open in one swift movement. Before he can ask what you’re doing - or even realize you’ve stopped listening to his ramblings about tourney - you’ve pushed the nut inside his mouth. 

“There we go,” you say, watching him to ensure he eats it. “There’s your after dinner nut. They’re all the rage in Wonderland.”

It’s a lie, but not one he needs to worry about. You gather up the remaining tiramisu and tea cups, leaving his dorm quickly. The neutrestnut should take effect and neutralize the honesty that comes from consuming candorcorn root, so Jay will be back to rights quite soon and be none the wiser. 

You wrack your mind as you try to figure out where you can learn more about dark fairy magic. Not much is known about it, and what is known is heavily debated by both magic experts and members of the fairy community. You pause, remembering something, something that sits just on the tip of your tongue. The Museum of Cultural History has Maleficent’s staff on display. Maybe there’s some information there, something too specific for the usual library catalogs. 

You check the time on your pocket watch and see the little hand is pointed to the words Hurry On Now Hurry Girl, The Doors Of Wisdom Are Nearly Closed!

Realizing the time pressure cooker of a pickle in which you find yourself, you take off like a bolt of midnight blue, rushing across campus to get to the museum on time. You’re sure you can persuade the guard to let you stay late, being from the Wonderland Embassy and all. When Alice Liddle of Wonderland is your mother, people tend to go along with any strange or unusual requests you make. 

You reach the museum just in the nicknack of time, catching the guard’s eye just as he’s about to lock up. After a rush and babble of explanations, he concedes, letting you in with a concerned nod. You’re not quite sure he’s following what you’re saying, but you’re in, which is really all you’re troubled with at that moment. 

“Oh- uh, I suppose so, Miss Liddel.” The guard agrees. “Just make sure to check in with me before you leave.”

“Thank you so much-” you glance down at his name tag. “Neil. Truly, thank you.”

He nods, accepting your gratitude. Before you can leave, he chuckles lightly.

“Doing some studying for parents day?” He asks with a smile. 

The archive is in your sight, but you stop in your tracks. 

Parents day. 

In the tizzy you’d been swept into you had totally forgotten parents day. Will you have enough time to prepare? You must. There’s really no way around it. Maybe if you can work quickly enough, you’ll be able to get back to your dorm soon enough to get everything ready by morning. You turn to Neil with a smile you hope comes off as sincere and not panicked. 

“Precisely.”

You enter the archive quickly, rushing through titles in hopes of spotting one that reads To Miss Liddel, Within Contains the Answer to All Your Troubles. Just like you’d expected, and unlike you had hoped, that particular book appears to be nowhere in sight. You don’t lose hope, though. You find a treasure trove of old, dusty, complicated books that each contain a little breadcrumb of what you’re looking for. 

You just hope you can gather enough to form a loaf before daybreak.

[pinktie]

[ShinKai, because cousin foreshadowing should have been done better] Protective Shinichi/Conan and protective Kaito/Kid? Thank you so much for the SaguKai headcanons, I love how canon compliant they were. I feel like these idiots would be harder to do though due to Shinichi's frequent violence and Kaito not pushing Shinichi for answers much (plus the taser and trafficking incidents), so whatever's closest works too or your own imagination on what if Shinichi realised Kaito is a human not actually an all-powerful phantom or Kaito got well and truly involved and was all 'too late to back out now' at helping his great detective lookalike/the kid killer.

Thank you so much. I'm glad you enjoyed it. And yes, headcanoning ShinKai as protective is way harder because of their... How should I put this? Sadomasochism tendency.

But what makes it so great is that you would know if things are bad when one of them starts to worry about the other.

For Kaito:

He would be very careful when he was about to do something violent to Shinichi (that sounds wrong). The tasing and trafficking (again, sound wrong without context) were the things he had planned out very well, and he was sure that his detective would be fine.

He is the one who brings medical supplies for when Shinichi is injured, which happens too often. Kaito would gently take care of his wound, calling Shinichi a hero.

His habit of working alone has led him to constantly volunteer for dangerous tasks, even though Shinichi has returned to his original body and insisted that they should work together.

Which leads to Shinichi's part:

I imagine a scenario where Kaito is the one being reckless this time and about to charge into a dangerous mission, like infiltrating without backup plans or refusing help from Shinichi. They argued, and the tension was built to the point where Shinichi had no choice but to tranquilize Kaito (nothing sounds right with these two). This isn't how Shinichi imagines himself capturing the thief, but this is the only way to keep him safe.

[st4rvingsunfl0wer]

𝖙𝖜 𝖘𝖚!𝖈!𝖉𝖆𝖑 !𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

my su!c!de is supposed to make my life easier. give me peace from the things that constantly eat away at my soul, my sanity, my self.

so why is it becoming such an issue now, when i'm the closest i've ever been to it? despite being my backup for years and definitive plan for months, only now does it seem to be a problem. the thought and certainty of it has always brought me peace, but these last few days the guilt of that decision has never been worse.

seeing how my dēath will affect people, even those i didn't even know knew of me at all, has been a struggle for me these past days. threats of involving law enforcement, tears caused by my selfishness, messages pleading with me to continue trying... seeing my family, friends, even strangers beg me not to do it has made me feel so selfish and shitty about this.

the guilt is overwhelming, but i genuinely do not see another way out for myself. i don't have a life worth living and i'm tired of sticking around, hoping for things to get better, when they only seem to get worse.

i'm so lost.

✧☾𖤓

[megamuscle885-blog]

Big thanks to @tgirlblogger who reminded me with a like to post this today this morning like I planned.

TORTUGA

Tinker 8 - All-in-one Mech, redundancy/life support tinker.

Citadel Architect, or Conglomerate Architect from the weaverdice document fit best here. Everything she makes feeds into her Mech, her magnum opus, a career spanning megaproject that is constantly 'unfinished' but still capable of combat. Much of her tinker methodology is inventing something and then discovering how it fits into the design of her machine. She believes her power is 'alive' and whispering the secrets of the universe to her, but she alternates between truly treating her power like it's alive and thinking it's just her subconscious needing a rubber duck to let itself out. (It's both, her shard is exactly like her only with a blue-orange mentality from being a giant space world-machine.)

She also has some extremely sophisticated parahuman scanning equipment built into her sensors and her quasi-AI computer co-pilot she's built to handle the automatic functions of her Mech. Her best work is made this way; scan parahumans (more in-depth scans are better but she's still taking passive scans of everyone she comes in contact with), create equipment inspired by parahumans, plug that component into the machine, the machine's secrets are revealed a little more and the puzzle is growing complete, iterate on new inspirations driven from the new tech's installation to upgrade previous tech until new well of inspiration is expended, repeat.

The consequence of this is that though her Mech is one of the most intensely iterated pieces of tinkertech in the world, she herself doesn't have much in the way of portable technology.

Glasses that record what she sees and hears with rear view cameras built into the frames that hang over her ears.

A pilot's plugsuit that is durable and temperature controlled and wicks away sweat and grime so she can wear it indefinitely.

A helmet much like a fighter pilot's that allows her to have a HUD and aim/control the mech manually via remote.

All of these things are mundane enough that they could be made without tinkertech, but customized to work with her Mech in a way no mundane tech could.

I'm not too sure on her trauma or how to make it fit. It could be that we simply don't cover it in the scope of the story. I feel like her self induced isolation within her Mech is part of it. She can't sleep comfortably outside of it, and even then for barely an hour. She'll start to become restless and hyper-vigilant while outside of it for any extended period of time. It's her safe space in a thousand different little ways. She's lost her Mech once before and had to rebuild it from damaged parts, almost from scratch, though she hasn't lost anything in terms of progress or discoveries. Tortuga Mk2 is a much more successful version of her initial machine.

Her specialty as a redundancy and life support tinker is best shown in how many backups she has for her technology. Chemical thrusters as backup for her anti-grav. Viewports as backup for cameras which are interchangeable with lidar, sonar, radar and gravity sensors to detect strangers, all within a camera drone net. Anti-thinker tech. Multiple shielding barriers, some based on slowing projectiles, others based on resisting them as hard as possible, then reactive armor behind them, then ceramics, soft armor, hard armor, etc. while a point defense system watches over all of it. The idea is that her Mech should resemble some of the most intense combined arms technology possible, while her inner sanctum exists to keep the VIP (her) as alive as possible. I may have to read up a little more on Lancer to get more inspiration. Hyper reflex mode, the deck-sweeper automatic shotgun (I intend to have it as a belt-fed gatling shotgun), Watchdog Co-pilot, all awesome things that inspired the character.

This didn't end up being the character bio I hoped for, but it's the one I'm posting. I'll probably end up expanding here later. Her history in central america will require some research I think, and some extrapolation on the kind of conflicts around Eidolon's zone of influence in Texas down towards Mexico and South America. Earth Bet's USA feels a bit isolationist in foreign policy to me, especially as Endbringers started cropping up, and Leviathan started crippling international shipping, and the Simurgh makes air travel daunting. I wonder what kind of influence Earth Bet's USA holds over Haiti, the Dominican Republic, or Mexico, all historically within the USA's zone of influence.

I also haven't yet thought of a name for her since I also don't know in my mind where she's from. There's this murky idea of a shaved head and pale skin and sunken eyes with bags under them, but an overall chipper attitude in private (within the comfort of her mech) and a terse mercenary facade when she puts on for her client or 'co-workers' whoever they end up being. I'm thinking something voiced by Jennifer Hale in that icy renegade Sheppard style. She's constantly got her tinker on a leash anytime she speaks to people, but would rapidly open up and turn into a motormouth if she's being encouraged and feels safe to unleash her thoughts and interests on others. Turtles are a big non-tinker special interest I think. I may have to do research on Turtles. Fuck.

[malusmagpie]

Another thought, Anakin and reader are both jedi and are stuck in a confined space(forced proximity at its finest 😌) and tension starts building and they start leaning in then its like

"We should stop"

"Agreed"

"We shouldn't do this. It's against the rules"

"Definitely"

"Ani-"

"Just kiss me"

I'm very lonely as you can tell

OOOOOOOH LORD.

They’d be on a mission together and the plan was to sneak onto a battle ship and find a Galactic Republican prisoner, a senator or something, they’re making their ways through the long hallways and they hear the ships commander coming down the hall. The only thing they see is what seems to be a small closet and they make no hesitation to run inside and close the door. Turns out the door only opens from the outside. They don’t wanna make a ruckus so they call in for backup when it’s quiet and Obi-Wans on the other side just so frustrated. “Every time I think you two are growing up you do something stupid.” He would sigh into the comms device and you both just shrug.

“Master you said you wanted minimal damage done. I avoided conflict like you said and now i’m stuck in a closet on a Separatist Battle Ship. I would have fought my way through, but nooo.” Anakin would smile through his words and Obi-Wan just ignores him and tells you guys he’s coming.

You both sigh and there’s barely anywhere for you both to stand without your bodies touching. “I kinda like this.” Anakin would look at you with a smirk. His idea of being a friend to you has always consisted of flirty comments. You were tired of telling him friends don’t flirt just for him to say “But I do so what does that make me?”

You would look at him and scrunch up your face in annoyance. “I’m sure you do.” He’d poke you in your side accidentally and you’d jump and hit his chest. He’d laugh. The banter of you telling him to move his elbow because it was digging into your bicep as you two tried moving around to be a bit more comfortable would go on quietly for a handful of minutes before he’d finally snake his arms around your waist and pull you close into a hug.

“This is the only comfortable thing we can do right now and you can’t tell me other wise.” He’d say in a hushed tone and the feeling of him hugging you would make your stomach do backflips, all you’d be able to muster up the strength to say would be “Okay..”

You’d look up at him and he’d be no more than a foot away from your face, only due to his height really. All he had to do was angle his head down and your lips would touch. I imagine you’d both be THE TINIEST bit breathless from moving around a bunch and also the close proximity you were in wouldn’t help the breathy words that would come from you both.

“Don’t.” You’d say.

“Don’t what?” He’d say with a knowing smile on his face.

“We can’t do that” You wouldn’t break eye contact as he inched his face closer.

“Are you sure?” His breath would hit your face and you’d shiver.

“It’s wrong. It’s against everything we’ve been taught.” You’d say as a last ditch effort but through the soft red lights of the equipment in the closet, he could see your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips.

“Oh absolutely.” He’d smile, so close now that if you spoke your lips would touch.

“Ani-“

“Do you ever shut up?” He’d press his lips against yours and squeeze his arms around you. Your hands would fly up to grab him by the shoulders, pulling him further down and closer while you stood on the tips of your toes.

He’d pull away and you’d try to chase him but he’d place his hand on your cheek. “I’ve waited quite a while to be able to do that.” He’d whisper. “I’m sorry it was in a Separatist broom closet. I’ll make the next one special.”

You’d blush. The next one?

AAAAAGGHHHHHHHHH

I love. Love. A relationship with him where you’re just friends and he’s a shit starter and you’re just constantly tired of him but secretly you’d be so upset if he stopped being the way he is and he knows it too. It actually lengthens my life span when i think of it.

Thanks for the ask, Anon!

[meenawrites]

Spider's BackUp Plan

Should I be studying right now? Absolutely. Am i? No, but if I get this out maybe it will put me at ease enough to.

SO inspired by a reply from @silverringeddragon, I've been thinking about how scared Spider is that he'll be sent to Earth once he's old enough, or just the possibility of being made to leave, especially after that one occurrence in the comics where he was almost forced to leave with his foster family, and just what that would entail for him.

I've seen this in a few fics as well, so I just wanted to put my take out there.

I think Spider 1000% has a very detailed backup plan for if anyone attempts to send him to Earth when he hits adulthood.

In my mind, as soon as he was old enough to really conceptualize that fear, and doubly so after he almost had to with his foster family, he's been creating a stash of things he would need to run off and survive on his own in the Pandoran jungle. That would probably include spare exopacks, any exopack batteries he could swipe without getting caught, maybe some knives, a bio-scanner, a plethora of arrows, his own bow.

He probably doesn't hide it at Hell's Gate either. I'd imagine it's hidden in the crevice of a tree of in the side of a burrow. Something along those lines that no one would know about. I think the only person who would know is probably Kiri. I'd imagine he had a stash at Hell's Gate or wherever the foster home was, but after that incident, he decided to move it out, and probably either got caught by Kiri or asked her help to find a place.

So it's just this massive pile of exopack batteries, arrows he continues to fashion and add to his collection–survival stuff ya know, and maybe one or two personal items he really can't do without. Like that one picture of him and Paz that's an absolute non-negotiable. Maybe some childhood favorite comic book–a worn thing that one of the scientist had brought with them when first coming to Pandora and opted to give to Spider. Just little things.

I think the one thing Kiri wouldn't know about is Spider's backup-backup plan. The only thing Spider REALLY needs from Hell's Gate and the human settlement in general is exopack batteries. He can't do without them (to this knowledge if he's in fact not Eywa blessed). SO, if he ran out of exopack batteries and found himself in a position where he couldn't get anymore, I unfortunately think that Spider would try to give himself to Eywa.

Kind of like in @eirianerisdar 's fic Half Alive, I really think he would go to the Tree of Souls, take off his mask, and beg to be taken into Eywa.

Pandora is not only the one place he knows, but also a planet he has completely fallen in love with. He loves everything about Pandora from the flora and fauna to the Na'vi's customs and way of life. I don't think he would leave for anything, even if he ran the risk of dying. It would just be very in character. I think going to Earth and being shipped away from this world he is entirely enamored with would crush his soul.

And damn if that doesn't make me sad as all hell for him (as if I'm not already sad over him constantly, every day).