#there are many things I could say and none of them are holy

[rachetmath]

Nora's Plan B

Hey Nora.

Nora: Sup Em, whicha want?

Emerald: Say if Ren doesn’t work out would you date Jaune?

Nora: Yes.

Emerald: What?

Ruby: What?

Weiss: What?

Nora: What? Is that a big deal?

Emerald: Explain.

Nora: I mean I call Jaune a fearless leader for a reason.

Weiss: But Cardin-

Nora: Let’s break it down. Jaune let Cardin get away with what he did was because of his transcripts however that’s also because Jaune was used to situations like because no one has ever helped him with that. Think about it, how many friends Jaune had before Beacon?

Ruby: Hm.

Nora: Plus the moment Cardin threatened Pyrrha his attitude took a whole 180. Shoot after the Ursa he was ready to fight Cardin again.

Ruby and Weiss: Yeah, she’s not wrong.

Nora: Next, Cinder would have to watch Jaune’s progression in order to set up a good team for us to fight. Didn’t she?

Emerald: Yeah.

Nora: And Jaune stood up for Pyrrha when everybody was laying pressure on her. That’s something.

RWE: True.

Ruby: But Nora sometimes Jaune-

Nora: Hold on, yeah, Jaune has his hissy fits but then again, don’t we all grieve differently. Plus Ruby, Qrow waited until we were attacked by Salem’s forces to explain everything. Instead, he could have just told us from the start. He was doing unnecessary things. So yeah Jaune has every right to be mad. I say Qrow should have counted his blessings that Jaune was willing to help him at all if you weren’t around. Or Jaune kills him by his own hands.

Ruby: Oh.

Weiss: But then he- Oscar-

Nora: With Oscar, Jaune admitted he overreacted with him. But, again, understandble. We grieve at our own pace. And I mean seriously Ozpin hadyears to stop Salem and he hasn’t done it. Ozpin might as well be just as bad as Salem.  Also if you have not noticed back in Argus the moment he pushed Oscar to the wall none of us were ready. Remember how  Yang looked?

RW: 

Nora: That was fear. I will say that takes points away for being attractive but it also shows he has a breaking point. Which for most people needs to be avoided cause someone could end up dead. But again Jaune proves he has control of his emotions by letting Oscar go.

Yang: Yeah she’s not wrong. 

Ruby: Yang how-

Yang: Stay on topic. Look I’m cool with Ren and you know I- I understood why he was upset but the moment he realized his tone with Jaune-

Yang: He knew. He knew he f**** up but then Jaune’s response- Oh my god.

Yang: He maintained his composure. His behavior proves he learned from Argus with Oscar. He still was willing to talk with him.

Yang: If that’s not maturity then I don’t know what is. Just saying. 

Ruby: But Jaune in the Ever After was-

Yang: Okay let’s compare. Ren was upset about Atlas and Mantle. Instead of being upset about it and following orders, what else has he done to fix anything? Nothing. And when he finally expressed himself it was after Oscar got kidnapped. And we were stranded in the middle of miles in snow with no food or transportation. Meanwhile, leaving those thousands of people to die.

Me: But didn’t you start it?

Yang: Doesn’t matter.

Me: Yes it-

Yang: Shut up. And in the Ever After Ruby…. …. We were there for a day and we made Little homeless. Robbed the knights. Almost died playing a game of chess with a spoiled brat. Fought our inner demons. And destroyed a city market with people in it to save ourselves from Neo. In one day mind you we did all of that.

Ruby: Holy-

Yang: Now with Jaune he wasn’t dismissing our problem but we were contemplating at the wrong time. 

Yang: Mainly because a storm came.

Yang: He then brought us to his home.

Yang: And let's recall he was waiting for us. Something he didn’t have to do. At all.  And what did we do? Judge the man for taking care of a bunch of children who want to die.

Yang: Then we brought Neo to him.

Yang: And Ruby -

Ruby: No further comments.

Yang: And Ratchet.

Me: *sigh* Okay. Fine. If you have seen my list of Jaune ships or seen any of my post on Ren and Nora., my outlook on them is not good. But after thinking about the reason I hate Nora, I steadily realized, ‘man, what I am saying, she’s better than Sakura.” She doesn’t physically or mentally abuse Jaune like Sakura does to Naruto. And unlike the other besides Pyrrha she’s consistent with Jaune. So I'll admit I was petty with her in volume seven and eight. I can see Nora’s Arc happening.

Nora: Thank you. Anyways Emerald I would date Jaune as my plan B. Especially if Ren and I don’t recover from Atlas.

Emerald: Well damn. Too bad you got competition.

Nora: *laugh*

RWE: *shocked*

Nora: Let them come. But remember, team JNPR. And team JNRO. And team RNJR.

Weiss: What is that- oh my god.

Nora: That’s right. I’m number two. I’m the second. I’m always beside Jaune. Not Pyrrha. Not Ren. Me. He’s the leader. But the queen of the motherf***ing castle. Bye ladies. *leaves*

Yang: Damn.

Weiss: Oh no, I better act fast.

Ruby: I need Ren to clean up his mess quickly.

Emerald: She most definitely

[sorry-not-feeling-it-right-now]

Since you've done Smitten, I'd love to see Damsel for the character meme!

(Ahhhh Damsel… my sweet girl…)

(Can’t believe I went from seeing her as a flat character to relating to her… she’s my pookie…)

(Ask game below!!! As always, excuse my formatting)

(And as usual, it’s getting longer than I’ve expected, soooo I’m just gonna put a cut somewhere)

FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

Honestly I think she’s so funny for no reason and I lowkey love that for her. Her preppy personality is honestly kind of endearing once you get through and understood her character. To think I once thought it was creepy…

The fact that she remains preppy is honestly kind of amazing considering what she had went through. She must have been so scared and yet she continues on with a smile anyway.

Her way of coping through pleasing people is also really relatable for me. I’m kind of a people pleaser myself, so I really saw bits of myself in her. I really want to see her grow into something more, and maybe she will get her growth of change through HEA(or at least take advice from her experiences).

Speaking of, I really like the transition from her to HEA. Like her shock when Smitten rips out our heart and shows it to her when she says that she wants to leave is probably such a shocking moment for her. She probably never expected that from you. Also. Parallel with Nightmare showing her heart to you. Oughhhh so good.

LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT THEM

In the words of Smitten:

“She is gorgeous! Absolutely Devine!”

(There is none /j)

Ok but seriously it’s probably her inability to say “no”. (Again, this is out of love for her!!!!)

I see a lot of myself in her, so her inability to say no just resonates with me since I used to have that difficulty as well. Damsel simply doesn’t know how to say no, as it wasn’t in her own nature to do so. But with that inability also hurts her and her inner self, which makes her kind of a doormat. I really don’t want her to be stepped all over, so this is for your own good Damsel!!! Protect yourself!!!! DON’T FEEL BAD ABOUT SAYING NO!!!

FAVORITE LINE

“I’m gonna die now ^^ I think that’s what you want :3”

GIRL YOU’RE DYINGGGGG

(The game is funnier then I remember what the hell)

BROtp

Oooooo there are a lot of good options for this actually, I don’t think I could just choose a couple of them

Damsel and Prisoner is a classic. I could imagine Damsel being really naive about the darker and grittier stuff and Prisoner had to teach her to protect herself from the horrors because Pris knows that the world is not as innocent as Damsel believes it to be. I can see Pris being a bit protective over her.

Damsel and Witch is another fun one. Damsel’s naive and trusting nature versus the creature who lies and does a little trickery.

OK WAIT I JUST THOUGHT OF SOMETHING

Damsel and the Cat princesses. Disney Princess and creatur. Holy sh!t.

OTP

I’m starting to fw her with Stranger or Witch as a pairing. I can see the vision.

Stranger cause she is many perspectives at once, while Damsel is, at least on the surface, a flat character fully embracing her role as the damsel in distress. Stranger would be such a comforting presence for Damsel, as she would gently guide her to be more than who she already is. While Damsel, due to her nature, would try and make Stranger happy and please her. She then realises that she doesn’t need to please her since she already loves her unconditionally. It’s just. So fluffy ok.

Damsel and Witch is an interesting one, cause Damsel is basically Witch but if she hadn’t been betrayed. Witch would see her old self in her, and in turn she would teach Damsel to protect herself. Damsel teaches Witch to trust and love herself again. Just. Oughhhh…

NOtp

She and Smitten. I forgot to say this in the Smitten post but. I love y’all individually but get them far away from each other 😭😭

As hilariously sweet these two are together they are literally two people pleasers being put in a room together. Their happiness and emotional stability is fully based on the other’s happiness. They can’t exactly grow from their experiences during their time together and they’re just gonna make each other worse. At least to me.

“But at least they’re happy right???” Oh just you wait when they get themself into a long term relationship. It’s really fricking tiring.

Ik they’re not people so it really doesn’t matter too much on whether it’s an endless loop of trying to make the other happy, but, y’know.

RANDOM HEADCANON

It’s not really a headcanon as it’s heavily implied, but I feel like Damsel would probably be the only one who can’t fight (or at least unwilling to). Like, at all. She has strength yes but she is also really hesitant to use that strength considering that the last time she used her strength it had cost the life of a person she cared for. I feel like if a person she really care for told her to do something like hurting someone else, she would definitely be unwilling to, but would do it anyway because she just doesn’t want the other person to hate her. It would definitely traumatise her further though.

And yes. She does talk to animals like a Disney princess. I just thought it would be funny.

UNPOPULAR OPINION

People often see her as an airhead but I feel she is smarter than we think she is. Or well, not a complete idiot I mean. She seems to be nudging the player to continue believing that as long as they think is possible, then it’s possible. She does have a bit of a grip on how the construct seems to be forcing you to do something that you don’t want to do, and so she acts the way that she is by nudging you to believe that you can best the construct. Kind of like how Prisoner tries to nudge you into getting her memo. Burned Grey kinda reveals that she does know(or had assumed) that the construct is forcing them to hurt each other, so I supposed that is basically confirmed? I dunno

(Feel free to correct me though)

SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH THEM

I don’t have a song that I associate with her unfortunately 😭

At least not at the top of my head…

FAVOURITE PICTURE OF THEM

Determined Damsel!!!

Drew her while reading a fluffy fic teehee

[chaoticroki]

I did indeed catboy the eldritch god of death

[sleepy-steve]

steve "dies but doesn't stay dead" harrington and eddie "ferryman of the river styx" munson // 1.5k // inspired by this post ♡

—

november 1983

It wasn’t a bad gig, as far as eternal work in the Underworld went. Eddie didn’t even have to row the boat. He was more of a figurehead. Someone for the souls to follow. Someone to guide them. Seemed like an odd thing to entrust to a dead eighteen year old from the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere USA, but Eddie wasn’t going to argue. Didn’t even know if he could. It had all gone very smoothly. All the souls doing exactly what they were supposed to be doing. Until Steve appears.

Eddie spots him sitting on the riverbank, knees pulled up. Looking a little too casual, in Eddie’s opinion, but he didn’t know the guy’s life. Some souls were more prepared than others.

“Hey, man, time to uh, get moving,” Eddie says, and cringes at himself. He’d already been spoken to about his boat-side manner. But how were you supposed to talk to people that had just died? Eddie still hadn’t quite worked it out. Was supposed to find his own words, instead of working off a script.

“Hm?” The soul looks up in mild surprise. He looks to be about Eddie’s age, and has a black eye, a split lip, and a nasty cut across his nose. Jesus, wonder what happened to him. It wasn’t polite to ask, Eddie’d been taught.

Eddie gestures vaguely at the boat. “C’mon. I’m taking you to the next part.”

“What happened to the last guy?” The guy tilts his head to the side, hair flopping with the movement.

“What?”

“The last guy who was on the boat?” The soul asks, waving a hand in the general direction of the boat. Even from where he stands, Eddie can see the bruises on the guy’s knuckles. “It used to be an older guy, tallish, beard…?”

“I… I don’t know, man.” Eddie flounders. He’d had some chatty souls before, but none that asked questions he wasn’t trained to answer.

“Hm…” The guy hums thoughtfully, nodding to himself. Shifting slightly, he settles into a more comfortable position.

“So…” Eddie stares at him with wide eyes, brows raised expectantly. “You gonna get on the boat or…?”

“Nah.”

“…What do you mean, nah?” Eddie asks incredulously. Was that even allowed? What would happen if a soul didn’t get on the boat? Would Eddie get in trouble for not collecting him?

“Not getting on the boat.” The guy smiles at him, a little crooked from the scar across his lip. “I won’t be here long, don’t worry.”

“What…?” Eddie trails off, before recognition drops into his mind. It was that smile, it reminded him of… “Steve? Steve Harrington?”

“Yeah?” Steve confirms, brows pulled together in confusion. “Wait… holy shit… Eddie, right?”

“Yeah!” Eddie leans over the edge of the boat, bringing him as close as he dares. Close enough to see the blues fade into purples in the bruises on his face. The trail of dry blood still under his nose.

“You died, like, not that long ago, right?” Steve asks, not making any moves to get closer.

“Yeah, yeah, house fire.” Eddie waves him off, not wanting to dwell on the memories of his shitty father and those last moments where Eddie tried to save the few good things he had left. “Fuck, man, I’m sorry you’re here though.” Professionalism is out the window in favour of familiarity.

“Ah, it’s okay,” Steve waves him off back. “Like I said, won’t be here long.”

Eddie knows what this is. Denial. He’d seen it many times since starting this job. “Steve…” He keeps his tone soft, just like he was taught. “I know it can be hard to accept, but you’re dead. That’s why you’re here. You have to get on the boat in order to move on.” Steve is giving him a bemused smile, and Eddie feels a twinge of irritation. He’s doing his best. “I’ll be with you the entire time, I promise.”

“That’s… nice, man,” Steve says, slight grin still on his lips. “But I’m not getting on the boat.”

“Steve. You have to get on the boat.” Eddie throws his hands down to gesture at said boat, exasperated.

“No, I don’t.” Steve gives a little shake of his head.

“Get…” Eddie loses steam for a second before gearing up again. “Get on the boat, man.”

Steve just blinks at him. “I don’t need to.”

“Get on the fucking boat, Steve!” Exasperation is in each word now, Eddie losing his patience. If it wasn’t completely against the rules, Eddie would have jumped off the boat and dragged him on by the collar of his stupid sweater. The souls had to choose to move on.

With a glint in his eye and a half smile, like they’re in on some joke together, Steve still doesn’t move. “No.”

“You’re dead, man,” Eddie snaps. Fuck, he’s losing his cool and is gonna get told off for it. “The sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Woah, woah, Eddie.” Steve holds his hands up. Placating. Another ripple of annoyance runs through Eddie. “Okay, just—I know I’m dead. But I don’t stay dead. This isn’t the first time this has happened.”

Oh, okay. So Harrington is delusional. Eddie briefly wonders just how hard he’d been hit, looking over Steve’s bruises. Was this what killed him? Eddie holds back a grimace. “Just… get on the fucking boat, man. I know it’s hard, but you have to move on. Also, I might get my ass handed to me if you don’t, so like, maybe do it for me?”

Steve laughs good-naturedly. Hopeful that he’s finally gotten through to him, Eddie can’t help but crack a smile at the sound. “So, s’that a yes?” he asks, keeping his tone light.

“Sorry, man,” Steve laughs. “Still a no.” Eddie slumps over the side of the boat dramatically, hair almost dipping into the black water. “But don’t worry. Last guy never got in trouble for not collecting me, so you should be fine.”

Pulling himself back up with an exaggerated sigh, Eddie settles with his forearms on the edge of the boat. “Okay, Harrington. I’m choosing to trust you,” he says, giving Steve a pointed look. “Can I ask…” Steve raises a brow. “What, uh… what happened? To you?” Eddie gestures vaguely at Steve’s overall appearance. The black eye, the cut across his nose, the split lip.

“Oh, this?” Steve points to the bruise. “This isn’t what killed me. Got into it with Byers. Not important, really, anymore…” He trails off before shaking himself. “This, though…” Lowering his knees, dropping his denim-clad legs to the grass, Steve reveals several deep wounds to his chest and stomach.

Eddie lets out a low whistle at them. “Christ, Harrington. You get attacked by a bear or something? We even have bears in Hawkins?”

Steve snorts. “Nah, I don’t know what this thing was. Some kind of alien-monster-creature. Face opened up all…” Steve holds his hands around his face, wiggling his fingers in a fan. “…creepy.”

Looking at him with furrowed brows, Eddie isn’t sure if Steve is messing with him, or genuinely believes that a monster killed him and that he’s not going to stay dead. Eddie stays silent, assessing him.

“Anyway,” Steve clears his throat, awkward under Eddie’s stare. “Nancy and Jonathan are probably freaking out right now, I’ll have to explain when I wake up.” He’s rambling, Eddie notices with slight amusement. “Which should be soon, though this might be the longest I’ve spent down here. Last time was quicker for sure.”

“Last time?” Eddie asks, unable to stop his curiosity.

“Yeah, the, uh, car accident,” Steve says. “Got t-boned at an intersection, died on the spot. Woke up with a broken arm, three broken ribs, and this crazy head wound.” He waves a hand around the side of his head. “Got lucky, all things considered.”

“Right…” Eddie vaguely recalls hearing about Harrington’s car wreck from last year. But surely he hadn’t died. It wasn’t impossible, but highly unlikely.

“You don’t believe me.” Steve grins at him, and Eddie feels his cheeks warm at it.

“Can you blame me?”

Steve considers him for a moment. “No, I guess not.” His head turns sharply, as though he hears something that Eddie doesn’t. “Time’s up.” Steve stands, brushing blades of dry grass off his jeans. He gives Eddie a two-finger wave. “Until next time, Munson.”

“Wait, what?” Eddie leans over the side of the boat again as Steve turns to walk away. “Where are you going?”

Throwing a thumb over his shoulder, Steve huffs a laugh. “Back.”

“Steve!” Leaning dangerously far over the edge of the boat, Eddie calls after his retreating form. He watches with wide eyes as Steve quite literally fades from view, figure growing more translucent until finally disappearing completely. Unable to pull his gaze away from the empty grass field where Steve stood just a moment ago, Eddie only has one thought in his mind:

What the fuck?

[mustangbby]

GIRL DAD OR BOY DAD? - sunday, boothill x reader

- or more clearly, to what gender would they want to have more, and general headcannons of them as papas ☺️

- brainrot brainrot brainrot BRAINROT AHHH... i love these guys and i can do a part 2 for others later but godd theres absolutely not enough dad stuff for these men (especially sunday... if there is its all yandere) so never fear novas here! ahem anyways enjoy

- warnings none! pure fluff!!! wc 711

Sunday is so a girl and boy dad.

Reason why I say this is because he likely needs an heir to take over his position when he gets too old to do so, but he also wants a baby girl he can spoil as well.

Don’t worry! He loves both of his kids the same! They’re the greatest things that have probably ever happened to him and he cherishes them with his whole life. He thanks the stars above every single day for the opportunity he received to be a father to multiple beautiful children, and thanks you for granting him the chance. 

Dunno, but I could see this man wanting a handful of kids. He wants at least one girl and at least one boy, but I could see him shooting for 3-4. Will he be around to care for them? Not all the time, but he tries his hardest (and he definitely has the resources to care for that many).

Considering they’re half halovian and half human, they look pretty much just like their father! Some have your eyes, but they all have his hair. His hair and his gorgeous wings. They have your features though, such as your face, body type, etc.

His favorite part of the day is when he gets to collapse on your shared bed, his kiddos following behind him to cuddle their dad, and most of the time you all fall asleep together. Normally, you wake up just you and him because he’s good about putting them in their own bed once they fall asleep.

Once his kids get older, he’ll teach his son(s) combat and good form. He wants them to protect, and wants to raise them to be strong and independent. With his daughter(s), if they ask to be taught combat, then he won’t see much of an issue with it. He also wants to teach them independence, but in a more subtle form. 

Just expect that his children as teenagers are going to be the prettiest kids around holy shit. They’re obviously enrolled in a private school due to their fathers high status but they always come home and list the compliments they’ve received that day. Thankfully you two have raised them well enough for them to realize that it’ll be bad if all of these get to their head and stroke their ego too hard…

Supportive father asf! All I’ve gotta say here

Don’t play Boothill is SO a girl dad hello have you met the man

He’s so excited when his little girl is born ahh he’s always dreamed of being a father to a girl and his dream has officially come true!!

Obviously, if you had a boy, he’d love him the same. He just wants children of his own tbh lol

His daughter knows western culture fresh out of the womb my friend. It’s like she was born for little cowboy boots and the cutest little cowboy hat. She’s even got a western name, he brought it up and you liked it, so the name you two settled on was Cassidy.

She has his hair! It’s absolutely gorgeous once it starts coming in- a pearly white color with little black streaks stemming from the roots. She has your eyes and your face, and his slimmer body type (before he was turned into a cyborg. This isn’t canon I actually have no clue what he looked like pre cyborgification lmao).

Oh lord, your daughter is so spoiled. On every mission he goes on he’s always bringing something back for her. It could be a super fancy necklace or even just a little trinket he picked up from a street vendor, but she has a whole shelf full of the things her daddy gives her.

She thinks it’s so cool he has a metal body. She asks about it alot but she’s really fascinated with it tbh. She likes to call it “daddy’s special feature!” and he always melts to that sentence gosh

He probably teaches his daughter how to use a gun when she gets older. He, similar to Sunday, wants his daughter to learn self defense tactics and learn how to fend for herself when necessary.

She totally has his accent. Change my mind period.

[robin374]

𝕺𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖆 𝖋𝖔𝖔𝖑 𝖜𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉 𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖕 𝖆 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖞𝖔𝖚

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Alastor x reader, romatic

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: I think we all agree that Alastor would say this phrase. Maybe I got too carried away, sorry if it's too long. Unedited

Carmilla waited for all the overlords to arrive and take their respective seats. Her silver eyes serenely observed the situation, while she prepared her probable monologue in her mind. A war would be one of the worst options to choose. They had already lost many souls since the last extermination, and losing even more would serve no purpose, except to amuse the angels. All the powerful demons sat down and Carmilla waited a few seconds for the various conversations between them to end, seeing that she got nothing waiting she coughed to get the attention of her companions. "I have gathered you here today to discuss this year's brutal extermination..." She began to explain, her eyes full of determination with a subtle light of hatred, which was directed towards the cruel exterminators up there. 

Suddenly, the door opened with a loud bang and two shadows appeared; one taller than the other. The little fashionista Velvette, a member of the Vees, appeared first with a superior smile on her face. With her back stretched and chin held high, she pulled the metal chain around her hand, causing the other shadow to walk involuntarily. However, the big difference between the two demons was that one of them was walking with her head down, as if she had been defeated and humiliated in front of all Hell, as if she was going to be sacrificed. Carmilla scowled at Velvette which diverted the attention of the other overlords and they looked towards the fashionista. Y/N didn't look up, she had already felt too ridiculed on the way there to feel even more so under the gaze of the other overlords. Especially under his gaze, under that smile that conveyed no feelings at all. 

"Speaking of the exterminators..." Velvette's distinctive accent echoed through the room, no overlord daring to speak. Anyone could cut the tension in that room with a butter knife. Y/N didn't even flinch at the confident sound of the voice, she was now as vulnerable as a puppy just abandoned on a highway. A few thumps accompanied the fashionista's small laugh, thumps that sounded too soft to be a blow from a fist but too hard to be a single piece of flesh. A golden drop landed on Y/N's slipper, she swallowed dryly, feeling closer and closer to the permanent presence of eternal death. Ironic, isn't it? A dead girl being afraid to die. She didn't hear the next sentences of the argument between the two overlords, she was too focused on the pain of the silver chains around her wrists behind her back. Never in eternity had she thought that being in hell she would burn, let's just say those holy chains silenced those thoughts for her. 

Velvette needed only a single tug on the chain to smash Y/N's face into the long table in the living room. Her hand pressed her face against the hard material, it looked like she wanted to put her face through the table. Y/N's gaze jumped from overlord to overlord, she knew full well that none of them would help her. "She was the one who killed that flying rat." Velvette began. "If those...Things can die, we're in a whole different situation." She paused for a moment, "we could start a war..." She turned to look at Y/N, her gaze as callous as her actions. "Not without killing this bitch first, it wouldn't suit us well for a girl as normal as you to get all the fame, what would my fans say?" His voice became a bit sharper, clearly seeking more attention than he already had.

Y/N looked away, her eyes fell on a spot between the ceiling and the window of the room, she didn't want to see how the overlords looked at her as if she was a mere bug, which they had no intention of keeping alive. She noticed her vision blurring, she knew these would be her last moments, as Velvette kept her word whenever it would do her good. "Who's for killing her and dropping her body in the nearest trash? Right where she deserves." The room was filled with murmurs and different conversations, some agreed with the fashionista, while others did not. Y/N had stopped listening long ago, she had accepted her permanent death since Velvette found her near the angel's body. She hadn't done it, she was just being more noisy than she normally was, not everyone gets the chance to see a dead exterminator, no? It was just bad luck, she wasn't the culprit, "It wasn't me..." She whispered in an attempt to get someone to listen to her, but these were overlords we're talking about, they wouldn't hesitate to kill someone. That's how ambitious they could be to have more power in their hands.

The sound of radio static came on, which was getting closer and closer. The pressure on Y/N's head disappeared in less than a second, and for a moment she thought she had finally been killed and her thoughts were slowly leaving her head as she completely lost consciousness. However, one hand helped her up, and even with her hands still tied she met those red eyes she loved to stare into so often in the hotel. With the other hand, Alastor pushed Velvette away from her, "I'll take care of it." 

The last thing to go. That demon Y/N thought she loved was going to betray her as soon as she left the building. She felt his hand brush against her back as he silently guided her through the halls of the building until he was outside. Once there he began to walk towards a particular direction. Y/N stopped in her tracks, confused. Maybe what she was about to say would be a big mistake, maybe she shouldn't say anything to stay alive, though curiosity killed the cat, right?

"You're not going to kill me? Kill me and then drop me in the middle of the street?" She watched as the Radio Demon's back tensed, and so did his ears. As much as she didn't see his face, she knew that smile twisted into an irritated one. He turned around slowly, and that annoyed smile softened the moment their eyes connected. He laughed softly and moved closer to the girl, his free hand coming to her cheek. "Only a fool would drop a girl like you." He smiled. That sentence made Y/N ironically feel like she was in heaven, a strange warmth rose to her cheeks. She heard the laughter of the overlord who was now offering his arm to walk beside him, "Alastor, my hands are chained." Y/N began, "I can't hold your arm."

[inkpot909]

Falling for an Oblivious Reader Headcanons

↳ Characters included are Johnny Joestar and Gyro Zeppeli. Gender neutral Reader with they/them pronouns.

A/n: Exploring these guys’ inability to spit it the hell out was extremely fun. What a couple of disaster men.

Warning(s): None.

Johnny Joestar

At first, he’ll wonder if he’s just out of practice.

Johnny’s never been interested in someone so oblivious they miss every little hint or flirtatious remark he throws their way. Having been a famous jockey, people used to flock to him; he hardly needed to even try.

But by the time of the Steel Ball Run, he hasn’t been with anyone romantically in a good while. He could count how many years since, but he would rather not keep track.

And you’re not exactly making things easy for him.

Going about your day looking the way you do… and then having the audacity to not pick up a single signal from him (Or anyone else for that matter). Honestly, it should be illegal.

Johnny’s natural instinct, unfortunately, is to immediately assume he’s not what’s clicking. Lord, am I… not being obvious enough? he often wonders.

It’d be one thing if you wanted to outright reject him; he can handle rejection (No, really, he can). It’s just the way the horse gallops sometimes.

But you don’t even seem to notice at all and that’s what’s so frustrating to him.

Just thinking of it can make annoyance fester inside his mind. Gyro throws him a knowing look whenever it’s visibly getting to him; to you it just seems like his mood spikes at random.

His annoyance isn’t directed at you, of course, but at himself (As much as he outwardly blames you, it’s really just a front).

Has he really lost his ‘skills?’ Did the passing years make him completely forget how to flirt with someone? Gyro seems really keen on telling him that’s the case.

And Johnny is nothing if not contrarian to everything Gyro says.

The guy is bending over backwards, doing anything he can do to try to impress you. All while Gryo is not-so-subtly ragging on him over it in the background.

“Quit it! For the love of God-“

“Awe, c’mon Johnny, it’s not like they’re noticing anyways!”

Johnny hates how right Gyro can be.

He’s metaphorically tripping over himself left and right, feeling like he’s at the same level of a clueless middle schooler desperately trying to seem ‘cool’ in front of a crush. Gyro’s damn near crying of laughter at his struggle to make you get it…

But all you do is just stand to the side. Smiling kindly, and blinking without an ounce of procession of his actual intent behind your pretty eyes.

Agony… Johnny Joestar is in pure agony… you’re lucky he finds you cute.

You’re so frustratingly oblivious he can’t even tell if you might like him back, and at this point he’s honestly just trying to get a read on your feelings before he spells it out for you bluntly.

Such an approach is needed with you, apparently.

It’s around this time too that he realizes… Holy shit, they’re really just that oblivious.

Someone else approached you at a bar during one of your numerous stops during the race. Both Johnny and Gyro knew exactly what they were getting at the moment they walked over, a sly smile presented on their face.

All while you sipped from your drink, your expression and tone of voice so casual one might assume your simply discussing the weather.

Johnny isn’t ashamed to admit he felt a sense of pride as the person ultimately walked off, giving up.

Luckily for you, Johnny is not.

You’ve stolen his heart so completely without even trying… he can admit to himself it’s a beautiful thing- if he detaches himself from his own frustration.

He’s going to keep trying to get you notice; try to get a read on however you feel about him. Even if it takes him the entire Steel Ball Run to do so!

And, yes, it does take that long.

Gyro Zeppeli

So what, you didn’t notice the first time he winked at you? It was real sunny out that day- the light probably shined in your eye and made you miss it.

Whatever, if his first flirtation or two ultimately fell on deaf ears. Statistically speaking, not every line is going to land the way he wants.

Who cares if his apparent interest in you is obvious to literally every one other than you? It’s your loss, to be honest.

Not that he really cares.

And you know what? He doesn’t care so much he’ll snap at Johnny for bringing it up. He’s not bothered by it… so why does the guy feel the need to mention his failed attempts at showing interest? Really, it’s just a little annoying the jockey thinks it matters to him at all.

… it should go without saying that he does not handle the frustration well at all in the beginning.

He won’t necessarily blame himself.

He is aware of his own ability to flirt, and his past has granted him a sense of confidence in it. Gyro’s certainly the forward type, and knows that.

Yet, everything he says or does seems to go right over your pretty head. It’s a not a notion meant to flatter you either- one he keeps to himself with pouted lips and arms crossed.

It’s a rather childish anger directed towards you, but it doesn’t last too long.

Eventually, he also comes to the (Begrudging) conclusion that he really cannot blame you. Gyro realizes this around the same time he figures his liking of you goes far deeper than a casual fling.

And if anything, he’s going to start directing his frustration towards the people in your past.

Clearly, no one’s really hit on you before… or worse, something happened to you that made you think no one ever would- so thick-headed in that belief that you don’t even perceive it.

It’s in Gyro’s nature to let his mind ponder the ‘why’ behind your obliviousness- especially when he thought he was being so obvious about it.

Either possibility makes him want to find whoever contributed to your inability to pick up a signal, grab them by the shoulders, and shake them violently.

But with time, he’s going to find it endearing (Not that he’s ever admit it out loud).

Look at you… riding your prized horse as if you’re not the most beautiful person in the Steel Ball Run. And the smirk doesn’t at all falter even when the three of you stop at a dingy town for the night.

“I’ve had three strangers walk up to me since we entered the saloon… the people in this town are so friendly!”

“Y/n, dear, they’re all trying to hit on you.”

“What? No way! They just wanted to talk about the race over a drink or two. One of them said they had gin from France up in his hotel room. Can you believe that? Sounds delicious, right?”

“… good lord, Y/n.”

It’d be funnier if he wasn’t another trying and failing to flirt his way into making you open your damn eyes.

At some point, Gyro just has to spit it out.

It comes during the climax of one of the race’s many stopping points. It’d been looming over his mind for weeks, and if someone were to ask him (Okay, if Johnny asks him) he would bitterly grumble that it’s been affecting his scores.

His logic behind doing this at specifically that point in time… flawless.

How are you going to blissfully remain in the dark if he’s shouting his confession at you from the finish line in front of a large group of confused onlookers?

They just wanted to see the race… not one of the top contestants with a heavy Italian accent declaring his love for you while damn-near standing on top of his horse.

[frudoo]

just saw the anon for reader helping slasher 141 and now im thinking about actually doing the whole thing. like finding someone, kidnapping them and torturing them. she does it as a gift or surprise. maybe its their anniversary and she wants to give them the best gift ever.

I love this idea, but I just can't see reader ever participating in the torture aspect of her boys' work. She's absolutely not above kidnapping, though.

Warnings: Dark!Fic/DDDNE. Y'all this one is gross (just not in a gory way). Kidnapping/drugging.

 “I have to say, little girl, you look absolutely delicious tonight.”

     You giggle, allowing him to twirl you and trying not to suffocate on the smell of his cheap cologne. The man is loaded and he won’t even spend a pretty penny on some quality fragrance? Although, what else could you expect from a conman like him?

     “Not so bad yourself, Mr. Chief,” you purr, yelping softly when he pinches your asscheek teasingly.

     You want to vomit. Really, you could do it right here, all over his pristinely polished shoes, or on his tailored suit jacket and annoyingly bright tie. The fact that you’ve managed to keep this charade up for the past couple of weeks is astonishing, to say the least, especially given the fact that you’ve been hiding it from the boys. It kills you to see their disappointed faces every time you turn down a night in with them, making up poor excuses about how you’re just going to decorate your classroom, or that your friend has been having a rough time and you’re going to her house to support her.

     The truth is that you’re doing it for their benefit. Herschel Shepherd has been on your boys’ radar for years now, long before they ever met you. It’s just been too risky for them to attempt anything, be it a kidnapping or assassination. He’s too public of a figure as head of police, meaning that he’s protected by a multitude of security personnel, and on top of that, can easily defend himself. Even if they tried to befriend him, suspicions would be raised and it would likely fail.

     That’s where you enter. You’re exactly the chief’s type—a pretty young thing with big, soft tits and a charming smile. The only thing you’re missing is the naivety he’s so desperate to corrupt, but you’ve proven yourself a wonderful actress and he’s none the wiser. For someone who used to be a detective, he really is clueless. Someone should have taught the old man not to flirt with strangers on the internet. You’re just grateful that he took the bait so easy, all too eager to get his dick wet. 

     “Since I’ve treated you to such a nice dinner, how about giving me some dessert?” You hear his knees pop when he bends to whisper into your ear.

     “Anything for you,” you murmur back, “Daddy.”

     For the love of all things holy, you cannot wait to get this bullshit over with. Shepherd wraps his arm around your waist and ushers you into his limo—he really wanted to go all out for his ‘girlfriend,’ apparently. The inside smells like cigar smoke and you have to bite back a frown. It makes you think of John and how desperately you’d prefer to be in his arms instead. In all of their arms. With every disgusting, sloppy kiss the sick fuck peppers across your jawline, you have to remind yourself that it’s all for them.

     For them, for you, for every poor family he’s ever screwed over. It’s all too familiar, the coverups, the paying off coworkers and employees so that they keep their mouths shut. You’ve read about countless cases against heinous criminal acts that were suddenly dismissed when a certain slob threw a large sum of money towards the judges. You can’t even begin to imagine how many women alone have been assaulted because this corrupt piece of shit paid to let their abusers go—and for what? To gain favor? To get reelected? God knows he cheats his way through the system anyway.

     You feel your hand being tugged and realize that you’ve arrived at the parking lot where your car still is, some random garage located in the heart of the downtown area—about an equal walk from any little shop or restaurant in the vicinity. Your ‘date’ furrows his eyebrows and looks at you, confused.

     “A little Toyota Corolla is more inconspicuous than a limousine, don’t you think?” you hum as you pull out your keys.

     “Right,” Shepherd nods, opening the driver’s side door for you. “We are still going to the hotel?”

     “Of course.”

     He buckles into the passenger seat while you start the car, messing with the air conditioning like it’s his right. You avoid rolling your eyes as you begin driving, softly humming along to the radio. There’s a tin of mints in your glovebox that you pull out and offer to him. All according to plan, he takes the bait.

     Almost instantly after popping the tainted mint into his bastard mouth, he starts getting woozy, saying odd things and swaying in his seat. Adrenaline rushes through your veins—this is really happening. You’re kidnapping the chief of police, your husbands’ most desired target, driving him back to your home to be tortured and killed. It’s surreal, and there’s guilt eating away at whatever sense of retribution you’d created in your head. Still, there’s no turning back now.

     No turning back from the rattle of his unconscious body as you drive over the gravel path leading to the barn. No turning back from the strain you put on yourself as you haul his deadweight through the random pieces of hay, nor the act of tying his arms behind the metal pole in the stable where horses should be but has only kept victims. This is a decision you made and will have to live with. For the greater good, you ask yourself, or for the praise you know you’ll receive from your boys? In the end, it’s all one and the same to you. 

     As you stand over the comatose-laden sleazebag, you hardly make out the sound of the barn door slamming open and all four of your lovers trailing in with wide eyes.

     “Bloody hell.”

     “No fuckin’ way.”

     “Steamin’ Jesus, hen.”

     “Darlin’, how in the fuck did you manage this?”

     There’s a beat of silence before you turn around to look at them, your face maddeningly neutral.

     “Happy anniversary, guys.”

[morganski-19]

The One with the Gossip

The group is hanging out at the café, all in different conversations when Jonathan comes into the bar and flops down on the couch. Camera bag sliding off his shoulders.

“When does this place start serving alcohol?” he groans.

“In about thirty minutes,” Nancy starts, “are you ok?”

Argyle trades places with Robin, sitting next Jonathan. “That bad?”

Jonathan nods, widening his eyes. “Messiest wedding I have worked months. There were so many things and they just piled on top of each other. The amount of bridesmaids and groomsmen that had previously slept together and didn’t know about it was insane.”

Steve and Eddie turn their heads at the same time. “What now,” Eddie says intrigued.

“I love messy shit I’m not apart of,” Steve mutters under his breath.

“It was crazy,” Jonathan sits up, turning toward Steve and Eddie at the side table. “And it all started for the most stupid reason. The guys apparently had a bet when to see how many of the bridesmaids they could sleep with. And the girls didn’t know about it, and a few of them fell with their ‘charms’ and were none the wiser. Until, one of the groomsmen said who won in their speech.”

“Holy shit,” Robin says with a sip of her tea.

Eddie winces. “That is such a dick move.”

“How likely was it that they were part of those fraternities that just liked to terrorize people,” Steve asks. Having almost accidently joined one of these fraternities when he was in college.

Jonathan nods with disgust. “That only scratches the surface. The best man had won, having slept with six out of the seven bridesmaids, and he was engaged to the maid of honor.”

Everyone winces with disgust.

“Not cool, dude,” Argyle says with disappointment. “So not cool. How can people do this to other people. And think that they can get away with it.”

“Because they’re inconsiderate assholes,” Steve says at the same the same time Eddie says “They’re disgusting bags of shit.” They high five each other.

Jonathan lets out a long breath. “And I’m not done yet. It gets worse.”

“Oh my god, how,” Nancy questions.

Argyle stands. “I’ll be right back, continue without me.” He walks over to the bar and starts to talk to the barista.

“He got bonus points for sleeping with the bride. And the second-place winner, was the groom.”

“Holy shit,” everyone says in unison.

Jonathan nods with wide eyes. “And the groom got a bonus point for sleeping with his future mother in law.”

They were too stunned to speak, just letting the silence fill that moment. Argyle returns with a cup of something and places it in Jonathan’s hands.

“What did I miss?” he asks, looking at them all super confused. “Are you guys broken?”

Steve shakes his head, trying to wrap his head around what was just said. “I don’t think I’ve heard that one before.”

“And this is coming from someone who has actually slept with one of his frat bro’s moms,” Robin interjects.

“On accident. And she was his stepmom, that was much younger than his dad, well after I was in college. He doesn’t know, it’s fine.”

“Did that cause another sex ban?” Eddie asks.

Steve laughs. “No, that’s when the figured out that the previous sex ban wasn’t working.”

Jonathan takes a sip of the drink Argyle gave him. “Jesus, that’s strong. Did you bribe them or something?”

“Something like that. Seriously though, what did I miss?”

“Groom slept with the future mother-in-law,” Robin fills in, Argyle winces. “What is with people?”

Jonathan shrugs. “Don’t know. But it was a big wedding that they are not getting a refund for. And I still got cake, well what was left of it.”

Eddie leans forward. “What was left of it?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods. “Speeches were right before cake, so the bride took the entire top layer and slammed it over the groom’s head. Followed by the maid of honor taking two giant handfuls and shoving it into the best man’s face. Arguments broke out and all that shit. I stayed back to help clean up.”

“Had they signed the marriage certificate yet?” Nancy asks.

Jonathan sighs. “No clue, don’t care. It’s over and I got paid. A lot. This was not a cheap wedding. Oh right,” Jonathan reaches down into his bag and grabs a takeout container, handing it to Argyle. “Saved you a piece of cake.”

Argyle takes it, opening it and starting to eat it. Nodding his head in appreciation.

The rest of the group looks at Jonathan. “Where’s our cake?” Robin asks, a little hurt.

“You don’t live with me, you don’t get cake.”

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging, @potato-of-the-lord, @autumncrocusandladybug

[rafesweetie]

౨ৎ in which you’re the first customer at the kildare county surf shop, and the owner takes a liking to you

you didn’t know how to surf at all. but hearing that a group of pogues came up with the money to start their own surf shop? you just had to check it out. not to mention you’d seen the boys in the news, and couldn’t help checking if they’re just as cute in real life.

you walk inside the surf shop, ignoring the boards as you go to look at the cute merch they have. you stand on your tip-toes to reach a pink crewneck with the store logo on it. you go to grab it, but you cant reach the top to get it off the hanger. it feels like when you’re at a grocery store and you can’t reach the drink you want.

a voice behind you — a cute one at that. one that reminds you of the peaceful noise of the ocean, as if you could fall asleep hearing it. but the voice isn’t meant for you to hear. “holy shit,” is all the boy says.

“hey, first customer, man,” another says. “someone’s eager, huh?” a pause, then a laugh. “go talk to ‘er, man, she’ll give us a.. bad review or some shit,”

a girl speaks next. “and give her something free since she’s the first customer,” the boy chimes in, saying sarcastically, “what, like a sticker?”

the next words are whispered, but the boy with the pretty voice laughs at what his friend said, and then walks over to you.

brown eyes gaze down at you, boyish and inviting. your gaze darts down his entire frame. everything about him is inviting. his cute bandana, his beachy attire, skin kissed by the sun and wavy hair caressed by the ocean waves. wow.

“..uh, hey,” the boy says, scratching the back of his neck. he was not cut out for the business world, he’s awfully awkward. but maybe it’s just because you’re pretty. “need help finding anything?”

“oh, no thank you,” you say politely, smiling up at him. “i’m just looking. when did you guys open?”

“twenty minutes ago,”

“..you’re kidding,” you say softly. “wow. it’s nice in here. how many people have come in so far?”

“none,” he answers honestly. “y’the first,”

that makes you smile more. “oh my gosh, that’s so fun. i totally have to get something now,”

oh, you’re cute. he likes that. “yeah, totally. you looking for a board?”

shaking your head no, you respond. “no way. can’t surf at all. s’cool and all, but not my thing,”

“no? well, you should learn,” he suggests. “always fun to have more people surfing with the pogues,”

“sure,” you agree. “i will if you teach me,”

he’s the one smiling now. his first customer, and it’s a pretty girl who wants to surf with him. it feels like fate. “yeah? you serious? i absolutely will,”

“yay, perfect,” his eagerness makes you more excited. everything about him is contagious. “what’s your name?”

“john b routledge,”

“well, john b, i’ll take this crewneck,” you start, walking with him to the cash. “and i’ll see you soon,” his friends are behind the counter as well. you smile at them then focus on john b again as you hand him some cash.

“nah nah, take it for free,” he insists, putting his hands up so you cant give him the cash. “first customer, right?”

he boyishly grins at you, muscles flexing as his hands stay in the air. you playfully roll your eyes and take the cash back. “fine, you win,”

“uh huh,” he hums, as if he knew you’d give in. he’s sweet and sassy, you like that. “i’ll see you soon. come back and buy a custom board so i can teach you,”

“okay, john b, i’ll come back soon,” you promise. “see you around,”

and as you leave, his friends are excitedly elbowing him and teasing him. but he’s in his own world, watching as the creaky wooden door swings after you leave, looking at the ground where you stepped, and looking at the empty space where the crewneck you wanted once was. he’s never gonna be the same.

[leebrontide]

I ever tell y'all about the South African nun I used to work with?

She's the only nun I have ever personally known. No idea how good of an example she is. I'm guessing she's an outlier in many respects.

She had a masters in social work, and worked very hard at the addiction counseling center I used to work with. All her paycheck went to supporting the order. She was, indeed, a bit severe for my taste sometimes. I guess she followed the stereotype in that way.

But I was under the distinct impression she joined the order to help protect her from retribution for her anti-apartheid activism. Don't get me wrong, she was a big fan of Jesus, but she also used to sneak out of the convent when she was young to go clubbing. The met the Pope in jeans.

When I decided to be a good ally to deaf folks by being honest when I couldn't make out what someone was saying (lol. That was a learning experience) she was the first person to offer to tutor me in ASL. (First of 4. Turns out I'm kinda deaf.)

She was AGGRESSIVELY pro queer. Like if someone said something homophobic in her presence they were IN FOR IT.

And one time, she was called in for jury duty, and she was gone for over a month. Which, to be fucking honest, was a massive pain in the ass for the rest of us, who had to cover her work. At the end she came back, looking absolutely smug. Apparently they'd put her holy but on a jury looking to convict a young trans woman of something that, if you listened to anybody but the cops, she was obviously being framed for.

The prosecution pushed hard. Several jurors were willing to convict.

But this sweet, holy troll not only gave her entire paycheck from her work to the convent, her entire living came from her order. Which meant, out of the whole jury, she was the only one who could sit there in deliberation indefinitely without loosing a cent. And she sat her ass down and argued and protested and refused to budge until this girl was officially not guilty.

None of us were irritated for her being gone so long.

She didn't always know the right words, and she didn't understand everything, but she knew the main thing- take people at their word, and trust that they know their experiences and their selves better than you do. And she was always very kind about asking me questions that might irritate.

The final thing that won her my heart tho, actually came after I was fired from that job for, frankly, being disabled. Which you'd think would be illegal but since the manager had kindly offered me what looked like a good deal, to let me go contract instead of salary, for more flexible hours, they'd talked me into signing away many of my worker's protections. So, they could get away with it.

And this nun marched right into my boss's boss's office and blasted her with the full force of her catholic guilt beam. Or however that works. I don't know. I'm not Catholic. Boss-boss was reportedly in tears. As frankly she should be! Ableism in a therapy setting is a special level of evil. Common, but still evil.

I have no point, I was just thinking fondly of her this evening, and how sometimes your allies aren't where you expect them to be.

[shushmal]

you ask for ficlet prompts, and a prompt you shall receive:

merman Steve please and thank you 🙏

blows you a kiss, i would do anything for you also im mixing a lot of lore here im so sorry

He grew up lonely. Nereides live solitary lives mostly, only gathering when called, when there is need. He spent many years roaming and exploring deep oceans, only seeing his kind in passing moments of trade and exchange. It is a very lonely life, and he never understands why he was so different from the resst, when all of his kind are perfectly happy in their solitude.

The ocean is vast, and there aren't many nereides in this part of the world. But there are a lot of humans—humans who are never alone, he finds, always accompanied by others in their boats and their swims.

He loves to watch them. They are fascinating, these land people who throw themselves into the ocean with excitement and joy and curiosity. He watches from a distance, filled with longing and envy, as these creatures leave the safety of their home to touch the sea.

It's how he finds Dustin, as its little body struggles as a rip tide pulls it from the shores. He knows he shouldn't, knows how dangerous humans are, but still, he rushes to it as the tiny thing wanes, stills, and brings it to the surface.

They float there together, the human and the nereid, just above the water, the human gasping for breath, trembling against him, until finally it speaks. Or screeches really. "HOLY SHIT!"

He doesn't understand the words, but he understands the meaning. "Holy shit," he says back to the human, because he's kind of feeling the same way.

The human begins to babble a whole lot of other things, and he has no idea what any of it means. He knows a little of human speech, things overheard, but he knows none of these words. This goes on for a long time, the two of them floating in the water alone, until finally the human points at itself and says, "Dustin."

"Dustin," he repeats.

"Dustin!" the human says again, gesturing at itself.

Ah, this is a Dustin. "Dustin," he says, agreeing, and uses his free hand to pat the human's head. Dustin then points, its little finger wagging in his face.

"You?"

"You?"

The Dustin says something again, but he doesn't understand it, distracted by a human boat shooting across the water towards them now. The Dustin is saying a lot of things still, but it's quickly approaching.

"Good-bye," he says to the Dustin, hoping that's the correct word. He ducks under the water and releases it, waiting a moment to make sure it floats, before darting back into the depths—only so far as to not be seen from the surface, even when the little human sticks its head underwater and looks around. Soon, the boat is beside it, and the Dustin is pulled from the sea.

He tries not to be sad about it. Dustin was wiggly and warm, and it was nice to hear it talk so loudly and so much. Nereides rarely speak like humans do, and he wishes that Dustin could teach him a few more of his words.

"Holy shit," he says, alone in the water, and decides to come back again tomorrow. Maybe he can see Dustin again.

[rotting--melody]

Crazy in Love . . .

Yandere!Miguel O'Hara x Gn!Human!Reader

Hello everyone! Just a heads up, this is part one of a two-part fic that I was requested to do! Well, technically, I was only asked to do part 2, but I just can't pass up an opportunity to write a cringe good yandere fic! Definitely not because I couldn't figure out how to write a good one-part Yandere fic.

wc-> 2.2k (holy shit)

cw-> yandere behavior, possessive behavior, stalker behavior, not smut yet, but trust me it will be MESSY in part 2

(fic directly below the cut)

Working for the Miguel O’Hara was not what you expected it to be.

It was worse.

Ungodly hours, strict rules, and no room for error. Working for him was what you imagined being the right hand for the devil was like. Not to mention that it seemed like he had a personal vendetta against you. Whatever you did, it was never good enough -working overtime, filing his mission reports, making sure his ‘spider cave’ was spotless- nothing was enough for the man monitoring the multiverse.

And yeah, sure, the pay was good, and you did get dental and health care (he might be a monster, but he's not a villain), but god, Miguel ran you fucking ragged. Since the day you were hired, he’d been nothing but a douchebag to you.

Of course, it wasn’t all bad. You’d made many great friends, the closest being Peter B, Gwen, and Hobie. You four were practically inseparable, and everyone knew it. You and Gwen were especially close, with you taking an older-sibling role in her life. Unfortunately, there was very little free time to just hang out with them while you were at the Spider-Society headquarters. For whatever reason, Miguel never let you spend longer than your (generous) ninety-minute lunch break outside of the dark little cave he called his office. And usually, that time was interrupted by none other than Mr.O’Hara himself. You knew that in being his personal secretary you’d be expected to run around and do things for him, but at this point, you felt like Andrea Sachs in The Devil Wears Prada, constantly running your ass off for an ungrateful and spectacularly moody boss. To be entirely honest, compared to Miguel O’Hara, Miranda Priestly looked like a fucking angel.

You quietly chuckled to yourself, conjuring up the image of Miguel strutting around in a pair of violently red Prada heels.

“What's so funny, Y/n?” Gwen asks, tilting her head slightly to the side.

“Nothing,” you dismissed, “Just thought of something funny.” You lightly cleared your throat and took a sip from the water bottle in front of you.

A sudden beeping erupted from your pocket, and you gave a loud groan.

“Lunch break over already?” Gwen says with a small sigh.

“Yeah, sorry kiddo,” you say, checking the message on your phone. Of course, it’s Miguel, probably wanting you to do something he could easily do himself. “You want to swing by my place after I get off? We could watch some cheesy flick and gossip like high-schoolers.”

Gwen excitedly nods her head, and you give her a soft smile. Giving her a parting hug, you quickly make your way back to your and Miguel's shared ‘office’. There, you’re met with the annoyingly attractive back of your boss.

“You’re late.” He grumbles.

You make a sound of exasperation. “I literally came here as soon as you called. Sorry that this place- that you designed, by the way- is built like a fucking labyrinth!” God, did he get on your nerves.

Miguel's only response is a grunt as you roll your eyes and sit down in your chair in the corner of his office. You quickly start pulling up mission logs on one monitor, and live footage of ongoing missions on the other. Your fingers fly fast across your keyboard, filling out what you’re able to on the logs, while your eyes quickly scan the many videos of Spider-people currently engaged in battle. You had always been fairly good at multitasking, so the work you did for Miguel had never been overly complicated. Truth be told. You really had no idea why he chose you for the position of his secretary. You’d think with Lyla, he’d have everything he’d ever need right at his fingertips.

After a few hours of mindless paperwork and watching battles, you decided to call it quits. Your eyes had started to burn, and your fingers were cramping. Finishing up the last few lines of what was (hopefully) your last log of the night, you stood up and stretched your sore muscles, and cracked a few bones.

"I'm leaving for the night, O'Hara. You have my number if anything happens."

Miguel didn't even so much as spare you a glance before you walked out of the room, already dialing Gwen's number.

《♡》

It was well into the early hours of the morning when you and Gwen finally said goodbye. After a long night of greasy food, bad films, and riveting workplace gossip (you would not believe how much drama happens in a place where everyone is fundamentally the same), you wanted nothing more than a hot shower and a comfortable rest on your newly cleaned sheets.

You stretched your muscles a bit, popping a few joints in your shoulders and back for a little extra relief.

You yawn slightly and absentmindedly scratched at your arm while you pick out what to wear to bed. Deciding on a simple pair of black booty shorts and an oversized t-shirt, you throw them into your bed, grab your towel, and quickly make your way into the bathroom.

After letting the water heat up for a couple seconds, you put on your favorite playlist and step in. Despite being thoroughly exhausted, your sheets are new, which means it's time to shave.

After shaving, shampooing, conditioning, and washing yourself, you step out of the shower. You towel dry your hair and then wrap the plush fabric around your body.

Making your way into your bed room, something is immediately wrong. Your instincts are telling you to run, get out, hide, but for some reason, you don't listen. You do, however, go into the top drawer of your nightstand and pull out an incredibly sharp knife (which you had stored for just this reason).

You swiftly make your way around your room, checking in the closet, under the bed, and behind the door. Nothing and no one is there.

"Maybe I'm finally going crazy for real. . ." you say to yourself, shaking your head slightly. You return the knife to it's drawer, and go to get into your pajamas.

You glace over to your bed, slightly confused.

"I could have sworn I grabbed my shorts out?"

《♡》

It's been several months since you lost your shorts, and things only seem to be getting weirder. You've been losing stuff more regularly. First your shorts, then one of your favorite jackets, then your favorite necklace, your perfume, nail polish, and most recent, your body wash (which you had just bought).

What's more, Miguel has also been acting different. Not nicer, but also not meaner. More. . . protective? But not in a good way. Your lunch break was cut from ninety minutes to fifty, and you were no longer allowed to eat in the cafeteria or common spaces.

"What the fuck do you mean I can eat lunch in the café anymore?" You angrily question Miguel.

"You're distracting the others. From now on, you'll have twenty minutes to get your food, and thirty minutes to eat. Which you will be doing in here, with me." Miguel states monotonously, not even bothering to glance at you.

You let out a scoff and roll your eyes. "At this point, why don't you just put me in a cage and chain me to the desk?"

Miguel lets out a breathy chuckle, turning around to look you dead in the eyes. "Don't tempt me, pequiña."

The pit that formed in your stomach after hearing those words was most certainly not one of fear.

You get angry just thinking about that interaction. It had been a couple weeks since it was implemented, and while you had adjusted rather fast, you still didn't like it in the slightest.

Miguel has also been giving you more work, forcing you to stay later and later. You swore that if he wasn't such good eye-candy, you would have throttled him.

Speaking of eye-candy. . . You glace over to Miguel's work station to snoop. If he's going to keep you cooped up in here, you should be allowed to spy on what he's doing.

He's standing hunched over his over-the-top computer set up, watching his many screens and muttering quietly to himself. He calls Lyla up and asks her something quietly. You swear you heard your name, but you were so far away it was hard to discern anything he was saying.

You shake your head and turn back to your work.

《♡》

It was nearly midnight now, and you were still in this wretched place. You let out a loud groan and run your eyes.

“Hey, O’Hara? I'm leaving. Don't call me in tomorrow either, I need the day off.”

Your statement seems to pique Miguel's interest, as he finally moved from the position he's been standing in for hours. He turns around, leaning onto his desk and placing his hands on his incredibly tiny waste (seriously, how is that even fair??).

“Oh really?” he askes, voice laced with something you can't quite pick up on “And why is that?”

You groan again, fed up with your man-child boss.

“Because I just need a day to myself, okay? You've been working me to the bone, and I just need a massage and probably a visit to the chiropractor.” You emphasize your statement by harshly cracking your back on your chair.

He chuckles softly to himself and lightly licks his lips. “You could always ask me for help with that pequiña.”

You flush red at his statement and cough a little. Damn him for being so sexy. . .

“I uh. . . I think I'm okay. Thanks for the offer though, boss.” You can feel yourself practically sweating and you jump up from your seat and begin packing your bag.

Miguel lets out a soft hum and turns back to his computer, smiling ever so slightly.

You glace back up at your boss before you head out of the room, grabbing the little trash bag sitting in the corner of the room to dispose of on your way out. You leave with one final glace back at his broad shoulders.

The walk through Headquarters is silent. Despite being a hub for all spider folk, the halls are quiet, leaving the small click of your shoes on the tile as the only noise.

Lugging the trash bag through the halls, you reach a large dumpster and begin to haul it inside. As you swing the bag above your head, the shitty plastic gives and the contents spill out over the ground.

“Fuck! Eww that's so nasty oh my god!” You yell in disgust at the trash flies everywhere, covering you in the mysterious liquid every bag of trash seems to have.

You quickly wipe your hands off on your pants as you being to (begrudgingly) pick up the garbage from the floor. Crumpled papers, some broken cables, a couple of water bottles, a bottle of your bodywash, some rotting-

Wait.

“What the hell?”

There, sitting innocently on the ground, is a bottle of the bodywash you use. How the hell did this get here?

The bottle is mostly empty, but sloshes slightly when you pick it up, like someone has filled it with water or something in an attempt to prolong its use. You're a little creeped out.

Okay, you're a lot creeped out.

The only people who use the bin in Miguel's ‘office’ are you and him. And you certainly don't remember bringing a used bottle of soap into work to throw out.

Maybe me and Miguel just use the same soap? I mean, I'm pretty sure he lives here so. . .

A chill runs down your back as you hear a voice from the darkness.

“Y/n? Is everything okay?”

You quickly hide the bottle behind your back as you spin around to face him.

“Miguel! Hi! Yeah, everything is okay, I just spilled the trash, sorry to bother you.” You speak fast and nervously, inching closer to the trash bin to toss the hidden bottle inside.

Miguel raises an eyebrow at you, clearly questioning your suspicious actions.

“Ah. Okay then. Do you need any help?” He asks. It feels like he's testing you.

You nervously chuckle. “Nope! I'm all good! Sorry again for bothering you, I'll be leaving now!” In one quick motion, you throw the bottle into the trash behind you and speed walk out of the building and away from your boss.

《♡》

You lay in your bed, unblinking at the ceiling. The soap had been keeping you up. You know it's probably nothing, but with all the weird shit that's been happening to you recently, everything has been putting you on edge.

You toss and turn, your mind both racing with thoughts and completely empty. You don't even realize you're falling asleep until your eyes shut, and you succumb to the darkness.

《♡》

You awake with a start, and a horrible sensation of dread courses through your entire body. You sit up in bed, blinking the sleep from your eyes and scanning your room.

You see nothing.

Until you don't.

A large, shadowy figure stands unmoving in the corner of your room. Two glowing red eyes stare at you from the darkness.

“Oh pequiña. . . I really wish you hadn't seen that earlier. . .”

TO BE CONTINUED‼️‼️

[fuck-customers]

I work at a museum and sometimes people come in wanting to donate things. Cool! Love your dedication to preserving our local history and science. But there's a whole process to it that doesn't involve the front desk at all so I usually give them the information they need and send them on their merry way.

But this dude. Holy fuck I can't even fathom the thought process because it was so fucking-

He comes in (right as we're getting a bunch of people, of course, and right as my coworker is going on lunch, OF COURSE) with a garbage bag. I am not paying attention to the bag at first and he asks if someone responsible is here today (Saturday). I joke, "I sure hope we're responsible!" and he says:

"I have a dead bird I wanna drop off."

my coworker steps WAY BACK to leave, I'm like. ok well. let me get your info cus none of the curators are here- he's very rude, keeps cutting me off, and doesn't want to give any of his info. There's a bird in the bag. it's a peregrine falcon. He says it's been dead for about two hours.

I'm telling him we can't even have that in the building (because it could have diseases on it what the actual fuck!!) and please step aside or go away or something. i got a line to take care of. He's trying to pawn it off to anyone else in line, my coworker in the lobby like.

How do you get from finding a dead bird to thinking, I should bring this to the museum??? Why not call the DEC? aren't there laws about the handling the corpses of birds of prey??? I have so many questions and no answers to any of them.

Posted by admin Rodney

[louloulemons-posts]

Bumps and Binx

Eddie Munson X ScareActor!Reader

Summary : You worked as scare actor at Halloween events, you weren’t expecting to make someone jump so much he fell in love.

Word Count : 0.9k

Warnings : Not proofread, halloween-y, swears, blood (it’s fake blood), clowns, eddie hits his head, 3 uses of Y/N, rambles for the spooky season, in true Lou fashion it was written at 1am 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You’d worked as a scare actor a few times now, loving all things horror, you always enjoyed making people jump. The fact you could dress up and give people a good fight was incredible.

You lurked around the haunted house, well it was actually a haunted big top. Dressed as a clown, you had black paint on your teeth making them look sharp, blood dripping from your mouth, contacts that made your eyes appeared white.

That wasn’t what scared people though, it was your ability to hide in the darkness and appear, screeching as you did so. This made people freak out, not expecting you to be there.

It ended up in screams of their own, hysterical and fearful laughter, and sadly, but rarely, tears. It was a huge mix of emotions. That’s why Binx (your character) had become a favourite of many.

The night was in full swing, many people had already passed through, you terrified the majority of them. Even having one run away from you whilst you chased after them like a maniac - it was fun.

Another group was making their way towards you, you’d heard them scream and laugh as they’d passed your colleague. It sounded like there was quite a few of them, oh this will be a good one.

Hiding in a dark corner, you crouched down, hearing them get closer. It was great, you’d make them thing they were safe and then just appear. A lot of people thought your too was the end of the attraction … it was not.

“No! I don’t want to go first,” you heard someone say, a whine in their tone, clearly scared. “Fine, fine I will. Jesus christ Red this was your idea and now you’re freaking,” another spoke.

The curtains were pushed back, a figure entered the room, turning to face the rest of his group, “Oh I think it’s over,” he said, shrugging. Sneaking closer to him, you smiled, cocky fucker.

More and more people entered the room, around ten in total. A big scare - a challenge you absolutely loved. Following after the first boy, he chatted away, “It wasn’t even that scary, you’d think they’d have one huge scare at the en-“

Leaping out with a screech, the bodies flew, everyone letting out a shriek, especially the first boy. Shouting, and losing his footing, ending up on his ass.

He went down with a thump, hand coming to rest against his head, “Holy shit, that was- oh my god my heart,” he laughed, smile appearing on his face.

You had to stay in character, keeping the scene, but you couldn’t help being concerned for the way he winced as he touched a particular part of his head.

Snarling and snapping at the group, bare and bloody teeth on show, another boy with dark hair helped the curly haired one up off the floor. The younger girls squealed and laughed, the two older ones linking fingers, squeezing tightly.

Making their way to the final room, you heard screams and shouts, another group was coming your way. Your eyes remained on the boy until he was out of your sight.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The night had been a great one, full of people coming to enjoy the spooky festivities. It was time for you to go home and rest now, which you were thankful for, your throat sore from the work.

Your face was clean of makeup, attire now normal and comfy, you headed to your car, bag full of special effects makeup slung over your shoulder.

You made it to the car quickly, wearing through the few remaining guest, none of them paying much attention to you now. You had to admit you were thankful for it now.

Something caught your eye, or rather someone. It was the boy from earlier, the one who bumped his head. Quickly shoving your bag and costume in your car you jogged over.

He was stood by an old van, it look rickety and kinda creepy. It was actually pretty cool and suited him in a strange way.

“Excuse me,” you called out to him, as he looked up you smiled, “Hey.”

“Uh hi, what can I do for you?” he asked, his head tilting to the side slightly, it reminded you of a puppy.

“This might sound strange, but I wanted to check if you were alright,” you chuckled, playing with your fingers, now realising how weird this situation was. “I’m fine, why do you ask?”

“I play Binx, you know the clown, I gave you quite the fright earlier and you bumped your head. I just wanted to make sure you were all good.”

“No way! Oh man you’re so cool. Sorry I didn’t recognise you,” he said sincerely. Shaking your head, you shrugged, “It’s fine, I look different out of character, Binx is pretty scary and I’m well-“

“Very pretty,” he spoke softly, taking in the features of your face, but his expression soon became panicked, “Shit sorry. That was weird.”

“No no, it’s okay. You’re very pretty too uh ..”

“Eddie,” he finished, “could I get your name or would you prefer Binx?” he joked.

“It’s Y/N.”

“Well Y/N, I think it’s only fair that due to you and Binx scaring me so much you make it up to me,” he grinned. Matching his smile, you questioned, “And how can I do that?”

“Go on a date with me.”

“A date?”

“Mhm, somewhere that I’m not going to become concussed preferably.”

“We can do that, I’ll need your number though.”

“Oh yeah sure,” he moved quickly, opening the door of what must of been his van. He pulled out a marker and an old takeout menu.

Handing it to you, you couldn’t help smiling at the messy scribbles. “I’ll call you then.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

“Have a good night Eddie.”

“You too Y/N.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🤍

[ender-cloud]

JASPER MY KING 🙏🙏🙏

Spilers under cut

There was none last week because it’s been really busy last week and this week, but I just felt like I had to

Lyn brought up that Jaspers inspirational speech is happening at the same time as Hyde’s breakdown and now it’s all I can think about.

“Guys we must face this hard ship” vs “HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT” is just a really fun image in my head

“YOU should be upset” instead of WE, this mean that Jasper actually isn’t mad at Jekyll because he does Understand.

I wont go into to much detail because I already did in a different ramble

I love the lodgers expressions, they don’t show up often but when they do the absolute most characterization is shoved into them

The last page too, they get no time but when they do they leave an impression

At first I was expecting Jasper to say what we all already know, but adding some new information lets us know both how chaotic the society is and how much Jasper has gotten to know about everyone and how he has come to really be apart of the society

The lodgers also seem to respect him, he was able to get their attention despite their frantic nature and they actually seem to be listening to him

He is a voice of Reason in this confusing time, reason that most of the lodgers seem to be lacking at the moment

Jasper has grown from the shy, quiet new guy to a more respected and valued member because of the one on one work he did with Jekyll that helped him learn more

Jasper has been more open to speaking his mind, first with Jekyll, then Racheal, and now all of the lodgers, He has the qualities of a leader, even if he may not personally think so

I hope I am not saying all of this just for the lodgers to not listen in the end 🙏🙏🙏

I dont really have much to say about this Panel, It just made me chuckle and I felt wrong not including it.

As more updates are made the more I like Victoria, she’s just so interesting with everything and I love seeing her in different situations with how she acts to them

Anyway Back to Jaspers speech

I feel like this was really the best way Jasper could’ve ended it, bringing back the whole reason why Jekyll had made the society; a safe community where Scientists could go and be protected

A place where they could help each other on their research, find lab partners and eventually find patrons

Also the thing about Risks and experimentation, Jasper has a point, you wont always get your experiment right, just like Jekyll; he wanted Hyde to be seperated from him, and it didn’t work out 100% correctly.

And people DO get hurt, both emotionally and physically, while the lodgers are all betrayed about what Jekyll has done it is very likely they would’ve done the same

No one wants to admit when there wrong and no one wants to admit defeat, it’s something we see with both Jekyll and Frankenstine many times, hell, it’s something we have all experienced in our own lifes.

While many people would probably understand what Jekyll had done and was going through if he told them sooner, he was scared. He’s the leader, he cant just admit that he made a mistake, he feels like he needs his perfect reputation.

That is why Jasper is trying to get the lodgers to understand, he is making them realize why Jekyll had done it, and while it might’ve not been right, they all know they would do the same

Jaspers words are powerful enough to hopefully convince the lodgers and redirect their anger for now and have things simmer down for a bit