#tw: a bunch of awful stuff

[piplupod]

i remember what i was panicky about and man i wish i didnt gjfkfl

[zephyrchama]

(A bit of OM! Mammon comforting MC. TW: Lots of crying? Depressive episode? No specific cause is mentioned, the reader is free to use their own scenario, but anyone who is uncomfortable with scenes of crying and being really upset might not like this one.)

The loud rustling of a plastic bag falling to the floor, its contents shifting noisily as they dropped, drew your attention. Mammon stood there dumbfounded.

He knew you were probably upset that he ate your ramen. He expected some harsh words, maybe a light berating and a slap on the wrist. That’s why he preemptively went and bought replacements. The spicy kind that he liked, some fancy new steak flavor that seemed cool, and a bunch of the tried and true classics. That way you’d have nothing to complain about.

He expected a cold shoulder. Playful teasing. A punishment, like having to eat one bowl with ten ultra spicy flavor packets. He never expected to find you curled up in tears. Eyes red and swollen. Your face looked pale with visible streaks trailing from your eyes and nose. Your expression remained a quivering frown when you weakly looked up, and it didn’t change as you buried it back into your knees.

How long had you been at this? he wondered. Was all this over a cheap pack of noodles?

Deep down somewhere, Mammon knew this wasn’t about the ramen. But he didn’t know what this was about, and it scared him.

You needed a tissue, or a glass of water, or a big hug. Mammon had no idea which to get first. He hadn’t even shrugged off his outdoor jacket yet. It slid down his shoulder as he scampered towards the kitchen for a glass, then stopped. He couldn’t leave you alone like this. His hands rooted around in his pockets which held only receipts and some loose change. No tissues or anything suitable for nose-blowing.

Up close, your shoulders shook. Your back heaved with every fresh sob. It tore his heart to little pieces. Your sleeves and the front of your top were soaking wet, no doubt from attempts to curb the crying. Mammon had a difficult time approaching you, unsure what to do or if he could even take being rejected when you obviously needed him.

Overthinking things was not his strong suit. Mammon didn't like the feeling of being stuck, of not having a plan. He was the kind of man with a goal in mind who always gets results. The goal right now was to see you smile, to eat some ramen and joke around. Most importantly, it was to get your mind off of whatever was currently happening. He wasn't going to change that by standing around like a fool.

"Hey." This wasn't his usual boisterous voice. It was a hushed tone filled with concern. You hardly acknowledged him, you had enough going on inside your head already and anything outside just felt like an afterthought. Mammon lowered himself next to you and fidgeted awkwardly with his jacket zipper. "What can I do?"

You weren't in a state to respond, that much was clear. Your answer was to shudder and hug your legs tight against your face.

Your knees were as soaked as your top. Seeing that was Mammon's last straw. He didn't want to be rough, but he was a man of action. He tried to coil an arm around your shaking shoulders, resolution only growing stronger when it caused you to cry harder.

"Knock that off, c'mere." Tough words never sounded gentler. You had no energy to move, but luckily, Mammon had plenty to spare as he brought you in to lean against his side and draped the edge of his jacket over you. You blindly cried against the first surface you could press your face against - his shirt. It smelled of deodorant.

"Don't forget, you're my responsibility, aight? When stuff like this happens, ya gotta come straight to me."

The silence wasn't as awful with Mammon around. It didn't feel suffocating. It took time, but the heartache began to fade. Your sobs became more infrequent. Mammon patiently waited the entire time, occasionally tugging you closer. Occasionally murmuring things like, "you're gonna have to use me as a tissue. I don't have any." Or, "just say the word, I'm gonna beat that sadness into a pulp. Gonna show it I'm the boss around here."

He may not be most eloquent of speakers, but he's got the right spirit.

Even after calming down, Mammon didn't budge and you remained locked against his side. Perhaps you still didn't have the strength to move yet, but you could manage to whisper out a grateful "thanks." A word that finally eased the pain tugging at Mammon's conscience.

He ruffled your hair and leaned down, placing his head against the top of yours. "I always tell ya, I'm the best. Call for me if this happens, ok?"

[mintmatcha]

tw: implied abuse, no curses au

"Can I ask a question?" Yuuji digs his heel into the wood chips as he swings, digging a growing trench behind him. "You don't have to answer."

Ash falls from the end of Choso's cigarette. He leans against the anchor of the swing set, cheek against cold metal, and sighs. Twilight has passed and the streetlights have turned on, giving the playground a hazy, barely lit glow. Yuuji's guardian will start calling soon, but Choso decides the extra time together is worth the future ire.

"I already told you that I'm not giving you a tattoo."

"Aw, damn-" Yuuji clicks his tongue against his teeth. Ever since they met, he's been dying for a tattoo of his own, throwing out wild new ideas almost every day. One day, when he's eighteen and likes an idea for more than a month, Choso will bring him to his studio and comply.

But, not yet.

"That wasn't my question though," Yuuji says.

"Then go for it."

The younger boy takes a deep breath, then lets it out even slower, pulling the tension longer and longer until it snaps.

"Why weren't you... around? Like, when I was a kid and stuff."

Choso takes his own breath.

"Your mom-- our mom." The taste of that sits bitter on his tongue. He never called her mom, even back then. "She was different for me."

And for our other brothers, he adds silently. Yuuji doesn't need to carry that weight yet, the knowledge that he was the exception to it all.

"Why?" Yuuji pumps his legs a little softer, the back and forth motion of the swing slowly dying out.

"I dunno." Choso wishes he had the answer to that. "She was sixteen, did bad things. Don't worry about it."

Finding out about Yuuji wasn't a shock, somehow. Years after Ken had surrendered her children to the state, Choso had received noticed that she had died. The news felt overdue. No tears were shed, no love lost; the group chat of siblings had all agreed not to go to any service, but the day of, Choso had changed his mind.

He had put on his nicest outfit -some thrift store pants that didn't fit and a shirt he stole from foster dad three- and went expecting to be the only one there, the only one willing to say goodbye.

Choso hadn't known about her new family. They hadn't known about him either. It was typical of Ken to leave a mess in her wake.

Turns out, through a series of lucky breaks, the woman had clawed her way out of poverty and into the arms of a rich, but nice man. Her life was easy and sweet, filled with luxuries and love, including a son ten years younger than her eldest.

No one knows why Yuuji was different than the others, why she decided to be good to him and no one else. Mental illness is strange like that, picking and choosing how it pleases.

Yuuji huffs, gripping the metal chains tighter. "But-"

"Yuuji." Choso drops his cigarette and crushes it under his boot. Then, he thinks about the child that will play there tomorrow, shoveling wood chips into their mouths like idiots, and decides to pick it up. He jams it into his pocket. "You have good memories of her. Don't ruin that."

He used to resent how much Yuuji loved her. He was eight when she died, the same age Choso was when he first had to dial 911 for her. That anger had long faded, replaced with a strange amount of pity.

"But I want to know. What she did and stuff." Yuuji's voice jumps high with emotion. "I'm basically an adult, I can handle it."

"You're sixteen."

"Well, mom was doing this stuff at sixteen, so-" Yuuji is seething suddenly, brow furrowed and teeth grit.

"So?"

"So, she was old enough to be doing bad things and I'm not old enough to know about it?" He stands and the swing clatters behind him. He's stocky, yet tall, bunched with muscles that he's built from baseball. On one side of his cheek, there's a bit of chocolate stuck there, a remnant from the ice cream Choso bought him. Below it, there's a rosy hickey on his neck, a remnant of the boyfriend he hasn't told Nanami about yet. He thinks they're having sex, maybe, but doesn't know how to broach the topic without scaring his brother into never talking about it again.

"And you had tattoos at my age, by the way!"

Choso lets him stew in it, huffing and puffing. The blown out edges of first tattoo peek from under his sleeve, the image barely legible now. An older woman gave it to him at fifteen, in the basement of her house. It became so insanely infected that he ended up in the ER a couple days later.

"I'm not a kid. I can handle it." Yuuji states, calm and clear. "I'm not a kid."

A car passes, it's headlights stretching and pulling the shadows across the park. In the changes, Choso can see his mother in his brother, those soft eyes and thin lips and the same slightly crooked nose that Choso has himself. He thinks, maybe, if time was kinder and his father was better, they'd look more alike each other, but then the moment is gone and they no longer even look like siblings.

"Okay."

Yuuji untenses a bit. "Okay?"

"Okay."

"Like, okay, this conversation is done, or okay, I'll tell you?"

"I'll tell you," Choso says, jamming his hands in his pocket. The cigarette butt is there, mushed and still warm against his knuckles. "But not tonight."

"What?!"

"Next time, I promise."

Choso doesn't understand why Yuuji insists on rushing away from innocence, but he knows that he can't stop him. Yuuji will find out about the abuse, the neglect, the other brothers, and the other horrors in some way or another and then things will never be the same.

"Stay a kid just a little longer." Choso resists the urge to ruffle his hair. "For me?"

"Yeah, sure," Yuuji sighs. "One more day."

[stevieschrodinger]

Link to Part One Part Two Part Three

TW Human trafficking discussions of injury

Steve feels like shit. He looks like shit. He’s pretty sure something might have straight up died in his mouth when he got that forty five minutes of sleep.

Everything looks good though. The fact that everyone else sprawled around the boardroom also looks like shit makes him feel a little better about himself. Well. Everyone but Nancy, obviously, who could probably walk out of a tornado and still look put together.

Steve only knows it’s morning because Carol just brought them all coffee. Carol does not come in out of hours. Steve learned that very, very early on. It was uncharacteristically nice of Carol to turn up with the little trolley from downstairs; it had a bunch of fruit and breakfast pastries on it, plus coffee.

She then proceeded to explain to Steve at great length how he looked and smelled like he’d been shit out by a bear, so, maybe she had motive. And that motive was being a bitch.

“Happy now, Steve?”

Steve’s got like, a whole bag of sand in each eye. Coarse, if they grade that kind of thing. Coarse sand. “Do you think we got everything?”

“I am confident that the team have done their utmost to pursue every avenue.”

“Nance, stop being a politician. That’s not a yes.”

She purses her lips at him in the way that she has, “can I have a word with you?” She scans the board room, “privately?”

Steve drags himself out of the chair, balancing one croissant on top of his coffee cup and grabbing a bear claw too, and then follows Nancy out and into a nearby office.

She doesn’t pull any punches, “I need to know how you know.”

Steve takes a big bite, then speaks with his mouthful, “can’t. NDA.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose, “and who, exactly, did you sign an NDA for?”

“The FBI.”

Nancy brings up her phone, showing Steve the screen. More precisely the headline on the screen, and Steve is thrilled that the picture they’ve used of Hagan is, objectively, fucking awful, “so Tommy Hagan was arrested last night, for Omega trafficking. When you walked into the office yesterday, oh so confident that everything relating to Hagan was going to tank…it was nearly ten full hours before this hit the news.”

Steve shrugs again, “N...D...A.”

They stare at each other for a long moment.

The door opens, Henderson’s baby face poking through. You would not in a million years think they guy was in his twenties, “Steve, morning! Sorry, I know it’s early…” Henderson seems to take in the state of Steve. Shirt rumpled, tie hanging loose, starting in on his second pastry, “but I kind of need to know why over a quarter of a million dollars was moved on Saturday, and where it went since it seemed to just...disappear?”

It takes, probably, less than a second for Nancy to leap to a conclusion like an Olympic fucking vaulter, and half a second longer for her to hit Steve with the file she’s holding.

“Er...not now, Dustin okay?” Steve manages to say, trying to shield his pastry and his coffee while Nancy gets it out of her system.

Dustin’s a smart kid, he watches Nancy slapping Steve with the papers...and just leaves.

She finally stops, pinching the bridge of her nose, and says very evenly, very quietly, “Steven Harrington, look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t buy an Omega.”

“NDA?” Steve replies quietly, uncertain, and then flinching when Nancy raises the folder again, “okay okay! Yes, yes I did. But! Under the FBI’s kind of...you know, instruction? I was evidence gathering! He’s at mine but I’m figuring out where his family are and I’ll take him back! It’s fine!”

“Why is he at yours?”

“They didn’t have anywhere for him, short notice, plus his feet are kind of messed up, from them like, hurting him. He’s been there a couple of years so doesn’t have anything, so I’ve ordered him some clothes and stuff. He’s fine.”

Nancy tilts her head, like a predator working out the distance they need to strike, “he’s...fine?”

Steve knows he’s fucked up. Nancy is using that tone. It’s...a very specific tone. “Err...yes?”

“You have an injured Omega, who has been held against his will, abused enough to be, at the very least, physically injured, never mind the emotional toll this whole thing may have taken...and he’s fine?”

Oh, no. She’s raised her eyebrow in that way she has. “I mean...yeah?” Nancy glares, and Steve backtracks, “I mean. Obviously he’s not...you know, perfectly okay, I guess. He’s been through a lot. But I made sure I fed him plenty, and he’s got some clean clothes on the bed. The bed in the room...I never actually...got around to showing him to...because I got, distracted. And it’s upstairs…” Steve can feel his insides sinking, “his feet are hurt. Shit.” Well fuck. Steve's...fucked up, probably quite badly now that he actually stops for thirty seconds to think about it.

Nancy sighs aggressively out her nose in that way she has, “Steve your security system is like fort fucking Knox, did you at least…”

But Steve’s already shaking his head, because he didn’t do that, either. He’s just...locked Eddie into a new prison. Shit.

He scrambles, feeling guilty, “I’ll give him some of the money. A lot of the money. Hagan’s...stuff. He can have the ranch?”

Nancy’s eyebrows shoot up into her hairline, “why on earth would he want the place he’s been kept prisoner for-”

Steve shrugs, “whatever he wants. He can bun it down if he likes, I’ll help. It’ll be like, therapy?”

Oh no, she gone from pinching her nose to rubbing that spot on her forehead, but then she seems to...deflate. Grasping Steve’s arm to hold him close, she actually speaks gently to him, which is, quite frankly, a million times more terrifying, “Steve. We’ve known each other a long time, now, so I say this with love. Money, wealth...is not the most important thing in life.” Steve opens his mouth to protest, but she shushes him, “I know. Alright, I know it can help, and it makes life a lot better for a lot of people...but giving people things does not...fix anything. Money is not an apology. Gifts are not an apology. And I know it’s hard for you to...see it differently, okay? Because you’ve always been very...driven, and that’s a good thing! I know how you grew up and how your father was with you and I know you feel you have...something to prove, okay, so I understand, I do. But...a lot of people put higher value on...just. I mean, maybe just go home. Say that you're sorry. Look after the Omega for a couple of days, make sure he gets home, okay? Maybe prioritize that, for a moment. You know the office will be fine...and maybe you’ll see that other things in life can have value, hmm?”

Part five

@stylelovechild @steddieonthen @marklee-blackmore @sticknpokelightningbolt @resident-gay-bitch @somegirlsomewhere @mugloversonly @weekend-dreamer7 @lololol-1234 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @mx-jinxous @goodolefashionedloverboi @bogwitchlesbian @lunaraquaenby @steddieinthesun @pluto-pepsi @disrespectedgoatman @i-eat-spinal-cords @waelkyring @kal-ology

[rfxiii]

Hi, i enjoy your headcanons and writing! I was wondering if you could write about Franklin, trevor and Michael with an S/O who is cold easily :)? I'm anemic and the winter weather is kicking my ass in that regard rn, lmao

(I’ve always had such bad anemia, so I totally feel you! It doesn’t get too cold here, but winter is literally the worst! Anyways! Tysm for the request, I’m sorry it took so long!)

TW: None

Franklin, Trevor, and Michael with a S/O who gets cold easily:

Franklin Clinton:

Over protective vibes are activated. If you get too cold, you could get sick. And he’s not letting anything happen to you!

He brings a spare jacket everywhere in case you need it, he cranks up the heat in the car/house, he buys a bunch of blankets. He’d even take his own shirt and jacket off to give to you if it looked like you needed it.

He’s not a great cook, but he’ll buy you tons of canned soup, hot teas, make you coffee- anything to keep you warm and comfortable.

He likes lighting his fireplace at night and sitting on the couch with you, in a big nest of blankets, while he holds you and fights off the chill of the night with your shared body heat.

He keeps track of the weather on his phone throughout the day to make sure you won’t need more layers and so he can update you on the temperature when you get ready in the morning. He’d even come to your work, or someplace in the city, to bring you an extra jacket if you’re out without him.

Trevor Philips:

“Did ya know gettin’ naked together under the blankets creates body heat?” He’s using any excuse he can to get you as close as he can. Luckily, he runs pretty hot, and it doesn’t get too cold out in Sandy Shores except at night.

He’s from Canada, he’s used to the cold. So, he may not be as sensitive to your needs as he should be. He’s a very “It’s not cold to me. Why’re you bitchin’?” kinda guy. He may pick on you a bit until he sees you shivering. He’ll give you his old, never-been-washed, denim jacket to keep you warm, after that. He really does care about your comfort, he’s just not super perceptive about that kind of stuff.

He’ll offer to make you soup/stew to keep you warm. Do not eat it! His heart is in the right place, but the last thing you want is to be freezing and have food poisoning. If you gently decline his offer, he’ll make Wade or Ron go somewhere and buy you something pre-made, and safe to eat.

Cranks up the heat in his trailer to almost unlivable degrees. It’s awful, it’s hard to breathe, he’s sweating everywhere- but his heart was in the right place and it is a sweet gesture.

Michael De Santa:

Are you cold? Well, now the most expensive, well insulated, name brand jacket is now yours. Congratulations!

He’s offering to take you on a tropical vacation every winter. It doesn’t get too bad cold in Los Santos during the winter, thankfully. But he’d do anything to keep you comfortable.

He shows up to see you with expensive coffee/tea everytime he sees you. And buys you tons of expensive, handmade wool blankets to keep you warm.

He offers to buy you a car with heated seats/heated steering wheel, etc. He’s all about keeping you warm and comfortable.

Secretly kind of likes that you get cold so easily, so he can pull the cheesy, romantic move of pulling off his own jacket and draping it around your shoulders when he notices you shivering.

[mendesbadrepuation]

Touch Her Again. I Dare You. || Joe Burrow

That moment when you get placed between Sam Hubbard and Ja’Marr Chase as a protection force so your boyfriend Joe can kick some ass.

Pairing: Joey Brrr x femreader!

TW: y’all it’s jealousy Joe back again to play, protective Joe, a few curse words, mentions of blood, a brief fight, a spicy kiss and I believe that’s all that is up my sleeve on this smutty Tuesday night...

Enjoy my loves! :)

••••••••••

You slipped into a new dress that fit you in all the right places. The second that you tried this on in the store, you knew right away it was going to turn heads. You needed a dress for a special New Years celebration that you were set to attend with your boyfriend Joe. A bunch of his teammates were invited, including their plus ones or significant others.

As you look over yourself in the mirror you couldn’t help but feel elevated in your confidence. “Babe.” There was a soft knock at the door and Joe slightly opens it to peak in.

“Oh good. Could you zip me up?” You ask and Joe fully enters the bathroom. His eyes roam every square inch of your body in the dress. He stood there in awe at the sight of you.

“Joe?” You snicker a little at his reaction. He steps forward and his hand fumbles around to find the zipper on the back of the dress. You felt a fingertip graze your bare skin and it sent shivers across your body. He delicately slides the zipper up to the top.

“Pardon me for staring so long. It’s just you look breathtaking in that dress.” Joe compliments you and it brings a soft blush to your cheeks.

“Thank you Joey.” You turn around to give him a kiss on his cheek. It gave you a moment to look at him in his all black attire. Black slacks, black button down, and a black suit jacket. The black hugged every muscle on his body and made him have this unbelievable masculine figure.

“Let’s get going before I change my mind about going to this and just stay here to enjoy every inch of you.” He turns you around and leans down to whisper in your ear. His hands were softly placed on your hips as he pushes his front against your backside.

His lips plant a kiss around the shell of your ear, then another down behind your ear, and a lingering one on your neck. You snatch his hand on your hip and turn around before he gets any further.

“Let’s go Mr. Burrow!” You say with that playful look in your eyes. Joe felt the flutter in his stomach from the way you just looked at him.

You guys gather up the rest of your stuff and meet in his car. He had put his black Cartier glasses when you look over at him as he pulls out of the garage. He drives through the backroads and you guys were in Cincinnati before you knew it. The sun was setting so the skyline was beginning to light up. Making that perfect city glow you loved to look at.

Joe pulls up to the building where the event was being held. He gets out to hand his keys to the valet driver and goes over to open your door. He holds his hand out and you get out with his help. A few people spotted Joe and called out his name. You both walk through the doors with your hands locked together.

The moment the doors of the elevator shut you could hear him sigh. You were in awe at how classy and sleek the building looked. The elevator was mirrored all around which made for a perfect photo-op.

“C’mere handsome and take a picture with me.” You say as you pull out your phone. He surprisingly didn’t fuss and just simply stepped in behind you. He looks at the phone while you angle the camera to where it slightly hides your and his face. Then he takes his out to snap a picture. You used him as a wall and rested your back against his front. Joe wraps his free hand around your waist. He towered over you with his 6’4 height.

The elevator doors open and it reveals a loud and busy floor. Gold streamers, balloons, and confetti was scattered every where. In one corner you can see a champagne fountain. And on the opposition is where the DJ was stationed with lights shooting out in every direction. A large disco ball hung from the ceiling and there was a lit up dance floor with people already busting out their best moves on it.

Surrounding the dance floor was tables and chairs. Along with a few curved booths. Looking straight out there was a patio area that had even more seating and tables and you guessed it, people.

Joe squeezes your hand and guides you behind him through the large crowd. He spots Sam standing at a table close to the bar and stops there first. You greet Sam with a smile and a soft hug. It was obvious you were slightly out of your comfort zone. You still were here to have a good time tonight.

“Hey can we get some drinks for the Mr and Mrs.” Sam holds his hand up to get the bartenders attention. He sees him and you look at Sam intensely from what he just said.

“Did you just say Mrs?” You ask Sam and there was a little smile on his lips.

“Close enough.” He shrugs his shoulders softly as he looks at you two. “By the way, you look very nice tonight.” He adds and takes a drink of his liquor of choice.

“I can say the same about you Mr. Hubbard.” You felt Joe put his arm around your waist in a slight jealous manner. He silently looks between the two of you. Joe lets you lean against his front so one he could hold you and two to let others know who you belong to. 

The bartender comes by to get your orders and you engage in a conversation with Sam about his recent disaster of a blind date. The night was just beginning and you guys had a couple more hours till midnight.

As the night went on you were putting back a few drinks. The other wives and girlfriends had started to show and you were having your fun with them. Joe and a few of the men were gathered around a curved booth. A few were sitting while others, like Joe was standing and people watching.

Joe was only watching you. He felt like it was neglect to take his eyes off you. Especially when you started dancing on the floor with your friends. The way your dress would slide up a centimeter at a time with each sway of your hips was driving him mad. He hated the fact that other men were possibly looking at you right now.

You were all giggly and tipsy which made this happy feeling in your heart. While keeping eye contact you walk over to Joe who immediately puts his hands on your waist once your reach his frame. It made him feel so proud that he was the man you chose to come up to. You were all his.

“Having fun m’lady?” He asks you and that earns a couple chuckles from his friends. You snatch his Cartier’s from the collar of his button up which was already a few buttons loose. 

You nod in response while placing the glasses over your eyes. “I want another drink.” Before he has a chance to react you walk out of his hold and head towards the bar. He shakes his head at your cute behavior.

You got the bartenders attention and she comes up to you with a smile. “Another one?” She had seen you the last few times and was making you the most delicious drinks you ever had. You nod your head excitedly. That’s when you notice you didn’t have your card with you. Joe was holding your things in his suit jacket pockets.

“Ope i forgot my card. I’ll be right back to pay you!” You inform the bartender and she nods her head. You turn around in a quick hurry to find Joe. The moment you face forward your body crashes into another’s. With a rough exhale at the impact you stumble back and felt unfamiliar hands grip your waist. 

“Let me buy you that drink sweetheart.” A deep voice rings in your ears and a burning feeling sparked in your stomach. The nickname that irked you the most in this world and some sleaze bag just said it to you. You take the Cartiers off and slide them between the middle of the dress’s neckline. 

“I’m good. I’ve got my own money.” You say and try to shake his hands off your waist. He places them right back on your body and that made you even more sick to your stomach.

“Come on. Don’t be a tease.” He replies.

“No.” You reply shortly and take your hands wrapping them around his wrists to push them off you. He wasn’t budging and you were starting to get scared.

“Get your fucking hands off of her right now before I break them off.” You hear Joe’s deep and protective voice shout through the music.

The guy grips even harder on your waist and it makes you whimper. Joe’s eyes turn dark at that sound and all he saw was red. His hands reach out to grab the collar of the guys shirt and steps his way between the two of you. You stumble back behind Joe.

“Y/n go find Sam and sit down with him. I’ll get your drink once I’m finished with this piece of shit.” You don’t hesitate and scurry through the crowd to find Sam.

When you find Sam he was sitting at the curved booth with Ja’Marr beside him. He looks up and can see the look of worry on your face. “Are you okay?” He stands up but you put your hand up to stop him.

“Can I sit with you for a second?” You ask Sam and he doesn’t hesitate to scoot over. He had a concerned look etched all across his face.

When you get situated between him and Ja’Marr you felt more protected for a moment. “What happened?!” Ja’Marr now looks at you and asks.

“I just wanted a drink and I was coming back to get my card from Joe and some guy grabbed me-“ The sound of your voice made both Sam and Ja’Marr go into protective brother mode.

“He did what? Where is this guy?” Sam’s tone was stern. You point towards the bar and that’s when you see Joe take a swing with his fist at the guys face.

Sam starts to get up but Ja’Marr reaches across you to hold him back. “Believe me, Joe’s got this.” He says with a smirk on his face. A crowd of people all gawk at the scene that was happening next to them. It wasn’t much of a fight since Joe practically knocked the guy out with one punch.

As the creepy guy lays in the floor. Joe straddles his body while slightly bending over and picks him up by the collar of his shirt again. “Touch her again. I dare you.” He says with the darkest tone of voice you had ever heard from him.

Two security guards come up to them and one lightly pulls on Joe’s arm to get him off the guy. Joe steps away and the security guards get the guy off the ground. You watch as they walk out with him and just like that everyone goes back to their business.

Joe takes his fingers and combs through his hair. You noticed that he had discarded his jacket on the table beside the booth. It looked as if his biceps were ready to shred his button up. You watch as he goes to the bar to get your drink and pay for it. This toothy smile lands on your face at your boyfriend and his behavior. 

Joe turns around to see you sitting in between his two best friends. A sigh of relief comes out of his mouth at the sight. Your little body was guarded between the two guys he trusts the most. Joe knew the moment he saw you in that dress he was going to have to fight anyone who tried to touch you. He didn’t mind though. He takes it as a compliment that he’s got the hottest girlfriend on this planet.

“Did he cry?” Ja’Marr asks and you tried to keep a straight face but you couldn’t hold it back. A soft little laugh leaves your mouth and Joe just stares at you with a grin. He hands you your drink with a proud look in his eyes. 

“Almost.” Joe replies and Ja’Marr and Sam both start laughing. You look at Joe’s hand and see his fists are still curled up. When you see the small scratch on his knuckle you immediately hop to your feet. 

“Are you okay?” Joe asks you. He actually asks you if you’re the one that’s okay. You set down the drink on the table next to his jacket. 

“I’m okay. Let me see your hand.” You grab his wrist gently and bring his fist up closer to exam it.

“I’m okay.” He says towards your concern.

“Come with me.” You command and pull him through the crowd to an open bathroom.

The bathroom was small but it would do for the time being. You find a wash cloth and run it under some warm water to clean off the blood. Joe takes your waist and lifts you up on the counter. He puts himself between your legs and out of instinct you wrap your legs around him.

There was a boyish smirk on his face that made you dizzy with excitement. “Let me clean this off before you get any ideas.” You say to him and take his hand away from one side.

You dab the cloth on his cut and make sure to clean it up. He was watching you very intently. It was hard for him to think straight with your pretty legs wrapped around him.

“I’m sorry Joe. I didn’t mean for that to happen or for you to get hurt.” You lightly mumble as you toss the cloth in the trash can.

“Look at me.” He commands. You do as he says and lock eyes with those blue orbs.

“Do not say sorry for being the prettiest woman here. Ever. The best part of being your boyfriend is fighting for you. The moment I saw you in this dress I could see your confidence from miles away. That is one of the sexiest thing to see. I will never be mad at you for dressing up and wanting to look good. I will fight whoever I have to without any hesitation.” Joe tells you and his face was inches away from yours.

Your cheeks were set on fire from his words. Hell, your entire body was set ablaze. “I love you.” You say to him.

“I love you pretty girl.” He hooks his arms slightly under your thighs to lift you up so you could level with him. Just as you lean in to kiss him you felt his hands move up to your ass to give it a squeeze.

A little grin forms across your face and it makes Joe slightly smile as you connect your lips together. He kisses you back with all the passion that was in his body at the moment. Your fingers go through his hair to deepen it even more. You two were making out so hard in that tiny little bathroom.

One of his hands slide under the bottom of your dress to feel your smooth skin. He expects to feel the outline of lace and is shocked to not feel a single thread. He disconnects your lips and rest his forehead against yours. His eyes look into yours once more.

“You’re not wearing panties are you?” He asks and this innocent look appears on your face. You lightly bite your lip. Joe softly shuts his eyes and lets a little groan out. He felt the rush of heat go down to his lower half in an instant.

“Is that a problem Mr. Burrow?” You innocently ask him. He swallows thickly to the point you see his Adams apple bob up and down. 

“Yup. And I’m going to do something about it.” He replies and this burning desire erupts in your stomach.

You look at your watch to see the time. “30 minutes till the New Year. You better get to going with that something.” You tease.

“I only need about 5 of those minutes darling.” A shiver runs down your spine at his cockiness. 

What better way to spend the New Year?

[hxney-lemcn]

Here to Stay — Farmworld! Finn Mertens x gn! reader

summary: reader moves in with Finn.

tw: none.

a/n: The finale! I hope you all enjoyed this series! I never write series' cus it's hard for me to keep writing so much for one plot but this had me in its claws.

wc: 0.4k

Epilogue [Ending A]

Master List | Chapter One

“Okay guys,” I laughed lightly as they had all just taken turns giving me a hug. “I gotta talk to your dad now.”

A chorus of ‘awes’ filled the room, but they trudged out of the room anyways. I turned to Finn, who watched with a blank stare. I fiddled with my fingers, knowing I left on a sour note. 

“Uhm, I’m really sorry about last night,” I muttered.

“Where did you go?” Finn asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. 

I sheepishly smiled, explaining how I managed to get back to Ooo. How I had a talk with the Finn from my world, and decided it would be best if I stayed here. “If that's okay with you of course,” I finished. 

Finn’s face softened, and he uncrossed his arms, “This is your home now, it always will be.” 

I felt myself fluster, heart beating wildly at the warm gesture. I looked off to the side, unsure how to respond. I was so wrapped up in my feelings, I missed the fact that Finn closed the gap between us. It wasn’t until he placed a finger under my chin and lifted my face up that I realized the gap was nearly gone. I took in a shuddering breath, flashes of the previous night filling my head. 

“May I?” He asked, his breath hitting my face lightly. 

Not able to say anything, I nodded. Finn closed the gap and kissed me softly. I kissed back, holding onto his bicep for stability. He pulled back quicker than I would’ve liked, but I wasn’t complaining. His hand caressed the side of my face, cupping my neck, before letting go completely. 

Suddenly, a bunch of bags poofed onto the kitchen table, a little note in front of them. I felt my face flush as the moment was ruined. I felt embarrassment rush through me as I read the note.

‘Hey, so I realized all your stuff was still in Ooo so I transported the more important stuff.

-P’

I blinked, silently cursing Prismo for being an all watching deity. But also silently thanking him for moving my stuff for me. Without a word, Finn picked the bags and my eyes widened. Where was he gonna move them? I didn’t exactly have a room. 

I followed after him as he walked up the stairs. He entered his room and placed the bags down on his bed. I felt giddy at the implication.

“There's a few empty drawers,” Finn explained, motioning to his dresser. “You can put your clothes there. Anything extra can be put where you’d like.”

“Thank you,” I thanked, already starting to put my stuff away.

I felt at peace, happy with the choices I made.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not wanting to writing a positive review of my brothers moral character?

(🖌️ to find later)

TW for drug use and misogyny

My (24X) older brother (26M) recently ended up getting arrested and charged with some very serious charges due to his distribution of fentanyl. I’m not going to get too into the legal stuff for obvious reasons but he could end up in prison for up to 30 years. I’m not any type of fan of the legal system (US, for clarification) and am not a fan of the situation but can definitely see some silver linings to him being in there. I wish there was an actually system of help he could get but with the rate he has taking drugs and the way his circle of friends was dropping (4 funerals in 6 months) my mom and I were fairly certain he was going to over does soon and he showed no signs of wanting to seek help. So ya know, at least he’ll be alive.

But that’s not fully the issue. My mom and I talked and she said his public defender wanted letters from people to prove his good moral character to read in court and, as his little sibling, figured of course I would provide one. But I truly have nothing good to say about the man’s ‘moral character’ the last time we had a conversation was before I moved out over two years ago. When I moved out my roommates I was moving in with said they didn’t want him to know our address as they would be living there too and didn’t want him bringing his violence into their lives. He blew up called me a bunch of homophobic slurs and that was pretty much it.

Before that he was my biggest reason for wanting to move out. He regularly calls my mom a bitch and a c*nt. He never cleaned up after himself because ‘there was two women in the house and we were f*cking (r-slurs) if we thought he should have to do anything.’ Lovely things like that. He punches holes in the walls, says slurs like they’re the only descriptive words he knows, steals anything not locked up (and smashes through doors and windows even then to get to it), and hounds my mom for money non-stop, usually until she gives in. In short I have nothing positive to say about his moral character.

Now my mom is a very loving mom. Far more than I could be at this point and is in denial about the man her son is. She would say she’s spent the last decade living with the personification of meth and heroin and she will get her son back some day if he could only get clean. But none of that has actually been him. I just can’t have that kind of optimism or denial towards the situation. She’s going to be very upset if I don’t submit something because she (fairly, again fuck the prison system) doesn’t think he should be locked up for upwards of 30 years.

I’m a good writer. I could come up with something. None of it really true but it can sound nice. Make my mom feel better (gods know she needs a break) but just thinking about it makes me feel gross. I don’t even know if it will matter much in court, but I don’t know how awful of me it would be to abstain.

There’s obviously more nitty gritty to the situation but this is long as it is. I just hope I didn’t make my mom sound bad because I do want to say she’s a loving woman in an abusive situation and I hope it’s not to much to ask that no one be too cruel to her in the notes, thanks.

What are these acronyms?

[mochinon-yah]

Yk what maybe one of you will adopt the idea OR maybe the idea is already out there.... somewhere..... but anyway-

THE IDEA: (tw: yandere and uh gore‐ish stuff?? HELP IDK WHAT ELSE????)

So, you had an ex-boyfriend who was basically a playboy before he met you, but now, he's somewhat changed. You decided to believe him since you knew people could really change, well, at the very least, you hoped so. You gave him a chance, but he... ruined it.

You caught him sneaking around with another girl. Her blouse was messily open and there were a bunch of love bites on her neck, but the most (un)surprising part was that your boyfriend was on top of her. Ah. You should've expected it. People never change.

You broke up with him despite his pleas of sorry's and whatever. You didn't care and you didn't want to care. It hurt you, so you tried to avoid him like the plague. And you, of course, block him on every social media that he had. But oh no, he was still pursuing you! What a drag.

There were countless of letters appearing in front of your house, to which you just ripped it apart. But that was much better since you knew what to do and where to throw it away. It was when you started to get gifts from your ex that started to make it more... scary. (You somehow couldn't make the police move after showing them the countless threatening and bizarre letters)

It ranged from expensive stuff to stuff that was on your wish list, and even to stuff that you were not... expecting to get.

One day, coming home from an awful day of work/school/whatever, you were met with a big red box of something on your kitchen counter. Knowing who gave this to you, you rolled your eyes and simply opened to know what it was inside. You were just... curious. But you know what they say—curiosity killed the cat!

A strong smell of rotten hit your nose immediately. What an awful smell. When you thought that the smell was worse, you haven't seen what the gift was—it was a heart! A real one.

You stumbled down to the ground; your legs went weak at the sight of it. It was... not a normal heart you'd see on a tv drama or somewhere. It was... an abomination. Countless of different hearts were sewn together to make a heart symbol, or love, i suppose. The blood was still there too, making the box somewhat sticky inside.

It was... fresh?

You felt yourself wanting to throw up, but it stopped when you saw a shadow looming over your body. You looked up, and it was your ex standing from behind you.

"Surprise! Happy anniversary, love. Did you like my present? Oh, what am I saying—of course, you'd like it! I know you doubted my love after what had happened, so I took the liberty to take hers and my other exes' and also your exes' heart to make a love! Now, you won't doubt my love for you, right? It's a gift full of effort, so you better be grateful for it!"

He grinned, a psychotic look on his face as he watched you quiver in fear.

[wellofdean]

Sorry this might be weird but I love how positive you are, about SPN, TW, Dean, Jackles. It's just so nice to see someone having discussions and thoughts about these things without needlessly putting people down. Your blog just genuinely makes me really happy so thank you for that.

Aw, thank you!

The truth is, I really love Supernatural and Dean, so it isn't difficult! And, basically, this is my fun, escapist outlet, so I don't really want to engage with a bunch of negativity. As for putting people down, why would I? It's a story. Everyone has a right to their feelings and thoughts about it. Like, some of them are WRONG, but... Live and let live? Anyway, my dash is full of fun stuff, so I guess I curated.

Honestly, I hear-tell about lots of SPN negativity, but I have yet to experience it at all, really. I'm just excited to talk about my stories with other people who can't escape it.

Basically, me with SPN:

[lonophobic]

“sorry, i’m a bit tired.”

diluc x male reader

tw: major character deaths (yes, deathS), diluc’s backstory spoilers, blood, fighting, crying, self hate, heavy angst, mentions of drinking, and a bunch of pretty messed up stuff i don’t think i missed anything but if i did pls let me know

genre: angst

a/n: i love diluc so much i want to make him suffer

song:

—

“sorry! i’m a bit tired.”

y/n called out. the young boy was trying to catch up to a young diluc, who seemed so full of energy and excitement.

“c’mon! there’s so much things i want to do with you!”

you laughed, running to walk next to your close friend. mr. crepus said he would be back soon, but it had already been an hour and the two of you were bored out of your minds. you were walking to mondstat city together, walking on the bridge leading to the entrance. the two of you awed at the tall buildings and the even taller windmills. everything seemed so lively. it was amazing, just how many things were there to entertain the duo. together, you laughed, made jokes, bought candy with money diluc found in his father’s drawer, and now you were sitting on a bench, legs hanging down the edge of the seat but not quite touching the floor. you were finishing up your bag of candy before throwing it away in a bin. you stared at the sun, which was starting to set. you sighed.

“maybe we should start heading back? i think your dad is back by now.”

you heard diluc grumble.

“already? time really goes by quickly.”

you laughed.

“maybe ‘cuz you’re having fun with me?”

diluc smiled.

“yea, i did have fun with you. we should head back now.”

diluc hopped off the bench, you copying his movements.

you headed back to the ragnvinder house, laughing and walking with diluc, hand-in-hand.

~

“sorry! i’m a bit tired.”

“y’know, you kinda say that a lot.”

“shush. i am.”

you were talking to diluc in the tavern, celebrating his birthday. you had yawned a few seconds ago, but it really didn’t matter to you at the moment. a blonde man, who was obviously a bit tipsy, came up from behind you making you flinch a bit.

“CONGRATS, MASTER DILUC!! YOU’RE AN ADULT NOW!!!”

this made a few heads turn, but everyone got back to their own drinks in a split second.

“COME ON, HAVE A DRINK!”

he thrust forward his own drink a bit, as if gesturing to diluc he should take a sip.

“thanks, but…”

he gave a quick glance to you, who already knew diluc was going to refuse.

“i’ll pass this time.”

you let out a soft chuckle. you looked around for anyone you recognized, even kaeya would suffice. however, you couldn’t exactly name everyone in the tavern at the moment.

“RIGHT! I FORGOT YOU WERE STILL ON DUTY!”

several laughs were shared around the man, diluc huffing out a small laugh himself. you felt a presence behind you, and you turned to see mr. crepus behind the crowd surrounding the bar. he came up the the loud, blonde man, and gave him. soft smack to the shoulder with his left hand

“hahaha! don’t worry! feel free to stop by our winery anytime and we’ll drink together to your heart’s content!”

“HOW GENEROUS OF YOU, MR. CREPUS!”

he wasn’t wrong. mr. crepus treated you as his own son, and even took you in when your parents eventually tried to get rid of you. you couldn’t pay him back in any way. he turned to you and diluc..

“let’s get going, diluc, y/n. we should head back home before it starts raining, don’t you think?”

“yes, father.”

diluc said, inching between the crowd to get outside while mr. crepus told everyone the tavern is now closed.

~

diluc and his father were having a conversation about the knights of favonius, while you stared at the ground. diluc was guiding the horses, and crepus was peeking his head out to talk to his son. you knew they would know if something went wrong, but something didn’t feel right. it felt like someone, something, was watching. you went back to the conversation when you heard a wooden box open.

“well…”

there was a pause.

“diluc… i’m so proud of you, my son.”

you stared the contents of the box. it had a glove, and an.. orb? attached to the top. at first glance, you would have assumed it might have been a vision, but.. it didn’t seem like one. it didn’t glow with the power of the archons, as doluc’s did. in fact, it almost seemed like the opposite. crepus then turned to you.

“and… y/n. thank you, for all of the good deeds you have blessed mondstat with. i’m glad i was able to be there for you.”

he said this in a much, much quieter tone. it made you concerned. what’s going on? why is he saying this all of a sudden? you felt the waggon stop, and the neighing on horses when you whipped around to speed outside. you were met face-to-face with a dragon. its glowing yellow eyes made you feel paralyzed. now really wasn’t the time to freeze, but your instinct told you to run, while your heart told you to stay and help the two red-haired men. your brain, overloaded, couldn’t do anything. diluc was clearly struggling, and him missing a weapon definitely didn’t help. crepus sprinted in front of you to help diluc, the glove that was in the box now equipped on his hand. your eyes widened and you leaped forward, trying to stop him from using it. it was a delusion, and while it gifts the user with incredible power, it also depletes the user’s life source by indescribable amounts.

you shouted, tried to grab him, yelled his name, but he continued to use the delusion. when the dragon lunged towards an injured diluc, breaking off the chains made by crepus’s delusion, you were the one supposed to save dilic. not crepus. it was never supposed to be crepus. there was hundreds, thousands of ways you could have saved diluc and crepus, but you failed every last one of them. now, you were standing next to a lifeless crepus, too shocked by how everything went by so fast you didn’t feel the tears flowing from your eyes. diluc was kneeling next to you, hands gently covering his wound, as if trying to heal them, to make him come back to life. you could barely hear kaeya’s shouts. the rain made your hair and clothes wet. you just stared. it was a pathetic sight. you probably didn’t notice you had wounds from the dragon, too. the only thing you could think about was how you wished to go back in time, just one minute, just to save crepus. the one you considered your own father. you didn’t notice kaeya behind you. you didn’t notice the yelling from other knights behind you. you didn’t even notice diluc stood up and started sobbing into your shoulder. you didn’t think of anything, the only thought that played over and over, like a broken record, in your mind was-

“i killed crepus.”

~

there were sightings of suspicious abyss mages at stormbearer point. you offered to take a look, considering the knights were busy at the moment. there were more monsters than you had expected, there being 3 abyss mages and a handful of hillichurls and a few mitachurls. and when a ruin guard showed up, you decided that it was probably a trap and you should run. you did. you really tried. but two ruin hunters showed up- you never even tried to take on more than one at once. there was no one nearby. there was no way of escaping.

you were exhausted. you knew you would have to take a break soon, as sweat covered your forehead and body. you were also mentally drained, too. it felt like your vision was tired from being used so much. the last ruin hunter was about to die, you could tell. by the way it clicked every time it moved, and the scratches, and the occasional pin popping out, there was no way it would last much longer either. when it suddenly disappeared, you panicked. you looked all around you, preparing your weapon. your vision was almost flashing. glowing, then glowing a bit less the next second, and repeat. it was almost like warning you to be careful. suddenly, you felt something pierce you from the back. you looked down to see one of the metal spikes of its arm, going right through your abdomen. you suddenly spurted blood from your mouth, covering your mouth quickly with the hand that wasn’t grasping your weapon. your vision flashed more violently as the spike left your body, and that seemed to deplete all of the ruin hunter’s energy too, as it fell to the ground and powered off. you collapsed to the ground in suit, feeling the blood trickle down your chin. you fell to your side, trying to keep the wound from getting worse, but you knew you were dead soon. the amount of blood you were loosing ensured it. you felt someone rush to your side, and your head being put on their lap. you creaked an eye open to see familiar red hair and eyes from above you. you let out a weak chuckle.

“hey, ‘luc. sorry you have to see me like this.”

you covered your mouth right after your sentence, more blood coming up your throat.

“no. no, no, no, no, no, no, no. not you too. please. you’re the last person i have-“

the last sentence was cut short, diluc’s words catching in his throat as his tears started to flow down his face.

he brought your chest up to hug you, getting your blood and grime on his clothes. his tears were absorbed by the cloth on your shoulder as he cried into your shoulder.

“hey. ‘luc, i love you. take care of yourself for me, yea?”

“don’t say that. please. help is coming- even barbara is coming- just hang on. please. stay with me.”

he sobbed into your shirt, clinging onto it with his hands.

“c’mon, there’s so much things i want to do with you.”

you laughed weakly one last time.

“sorry. i’m a bit tired.”

—

words: 1683

liked it? no? good. now cry. /hj

spitting out as much fics i can before i start to become super busy next week

[copaganda-clobberfest]

WELCOME

TO THE FIRST ROUND OF THE COPAGANDA CLOBBERFEST!

“You know that trope? That one trope *Everyone* hates? The trope in which a well meaning antagonist to our heroes, one looking out for the good of a certain community, suddenly does something horrible and drastic to make not only them, but the ideology they stand for the most villainous of all?”

NOW IS THE TIME TO BATTLE THEM OUT! Like Ken dolls, fighting for survival! Like your Polly pockets discarded in the closet, we’ll see which of these bitches jumped that slippery slope harder! Whose character did numbers on y’all, and blew up a bunch of grandmas and babies and hospitals with it!

ROUND ONE

DAENERYS TARGARYEN from GAME OF THRONES vs PRINCE LOTOR from VOLTRON (LEGENDARY DEFENDER)

Dany propaganda (TW: domestic abuse mention, slavery):

“Sold off as a slavewife to a warlord in another country. Slowly rises up gaining the love and trust of the warlords people, eventually becoming their leader after his death. Goes on to conquer another nation and free all the slaves. Deals with her quickly growing list of real and perceived enemies in increasingly awful ways. More stuff happens. Eventually she makes her play for the throne of Kingslanding and forced a swift surrender… but instead snaps… over…? and instead starts killing everyone in the city indiscriminately because the only way to build her great version of the world everyone who even remotely likes the current one has to die.

And then her sorta bf kills her.

Its kinda funny how the US was also founded on a revolution lead by people with Not Great Morals and its media industry loves to now churn out stories where revolutionary figures turn out to be bad guys, actually, so you shouldn’t revolt and just accept your place in their world. Is this actually a British psy-op to get americans to accept the error in the ways and rejoin the UK?”

“daenerys propaganda: the literal in-text justification d&d gave for dany always being secretly evil and destined to massacre innocents was that she was too mean to the slavers that crucified a bunch of children. so they had this domestic violence survivor die of yet more domestic violence. they couldn't even let her go down in battle, she had to be assassinated by her lover in a moment of physical intimacy. (and tyrion, who literally strangled his gf to death and burned a fleet alive, suddenly became the audience avatar fretting about ethics.) the only woman permitted to retain power at the end of the show (sansa) was the one who said being raped and abused made her strong; dany, who explicitly condemned physical and sexual abuse and took steps to eradicate the perpetrators and break the wheel that crushed the oppressed, had to go crazy and die. the script explicitly condemned what they referred to as "liberation theology." d&d are the ultimate centrists and they turned dany into a fox news caricature of an activist.”

Lotor propaganda (TW: xenophobia):

“He wasn't exactly presented as a straight-up villain initially, more like a rogue agent. He wanted to reform his father's evil empire to be less tyrannical and xenophobic (the 2nd one is especially relevant because he's only half Galra. He went from an enemy of the heroes to an ally, then oops! turns out he's actually been a genocidal mass murderer with a god complex this whole time and then he dies in the most horrible way. It's been a while since I watched the show but I will never stop being mad over how they did my boy dirty.”

Always feel free to rb with more propaganda :)

[swellsha]

I saw ur Prime Defenders villain au and I’m so curious about it, it seems so interesting and fun and I wanna know everything!!! Where is it different from the what if? How did the ghostkicks & polypd happen? Tell me everything :)! Also love ur design for Kota I love his long hair 👀!

ahh tysm for asking!! SO theres a lot different, i suppose i should go character by character

(tw for some pretty dark themes)

to start with will. (in this au uses they/them) they are pretty similar to the oneshot except i made up backstory stuff because i can!! part of it is that they cant feel any pain and never have been able to, so theyve always been fascinated by the power pain has over people and what it can make them do, especially given they dont really know what it feels like. their backstory is similar to normal william wisp except theyre more power hungry and start to use their abilities to take the power from the creatures they and the unwitness protection program find. theyre ... not exactly chill w that and the group breaks up. will starts to withdraw themself more and more and listen to the voices in their head telling them they should totally just kill everyone and eventually theyre like "wow yeah i should kill everyone!!" so one day during church they use their powers we saw in the one shot which lets them make everyone have an insatiatble bloodlust and basically cause a slaughter and they run off. given they didnt exactly hide it very well theyre arrested when they arrive at rockfall and taken to the supermax

tldr: wills obsession with pain and power goes A Tad Bit Too Far and they end up in jail.

as for kota (she/her in this au) she has always been a bit feral. ill try and make this explanation shorter but basically every adult that shouldve taken care of her died and she took that as a sign that she just wasnt good enough for them, that they didnt want her. she went into the care system and saw kids who had powers always being chosen over her. she even begged ms g (who she later came to sort of blame for her parents death) to take her in and train her but ms g didnt take her seriously becuase she was only a kid with no powers and rejected her. in a kind way, but it still stung. due to this kota began to grow to hate superheroes and just the world in general, viewing herself as an outcast to the world. being about 8 years old she decided the logical thing to do is run away to the woods to be raised by wolves. however instead of wolves shes found by grandma cole (who is more evil in this au) and trains under her and master cole. being an edgy kid she calls him master kill which is where her name comes from. they treat her terribly but tell her that she needs them and they love her and noone will treat her better. when shes 18 grandma cole falls seriously ill and while kota is out getting firewood she dies. except not from the illness...(oo mystery mystery intrigue intrigue) kota runs to the nearby rockfall city and totally pushes that girl off that building on purpose. however when theyre found ppl still assume kota was trying to save her and she undergoes the same surgery. however the surgeon is also evil because everyone must be and also puts a whole demon in her as well as the heart. anyway she wakes up kills everyone leaves gets arrested and taken to Rockfall supermax.

(i said id make this one shorter but wow it really wasnt huh)

as for virion, (any prns in this au) hes the closest to canon. he alsp falls thru the portal and gets ppl in her head exvept this time doesn't just kill a theif but also a bunch of cops too and is taken to the supermax! wow that one was short and sweet

ashe (she/her) hates how powerless her upbringing has made her. she resents the world from afar and the only time shes entertained is when awful shit happens. the only time she has ever felt in control of her own life is when the trickster took her over and totally killed her mum! ironic because she wasnt even the 1 in control there lol. she loves the power the trickster gives her and begins to study it more and more. im sure that wont go badly.

when theyre in the supermax (ashe is the only one not there) they all become a sort of gang and meet tide, and they work together to escape. this is where ghostkicks starts except kota is too thick to realize she has some sort of feelings for them and william is scared of the potential feelings and pushes them down. kota basically becomes williams guard dog lol. kota doesnt like virion cuz she feels hes taking will away from her. after they escape they start to work under the lambert brothers (who are also all evil here) and also with ashe. they call themselves the "prime offenders" lol. they burn down the base of the prime defenders (who in this au is doug, cantrip and le frog) to try and capture wavelength

as for ghostknife, their dynamic is similar to in canon except william is somehow more weird about it. idk how better to explain it

pizzarat (virion and kota) is one sided (at first, anyway) because virions falls for kota after she beats him in physical combat which i feel is a very virion thing to do. kota continues to dislike them but xey keep trying to show how devoted they are to her and eventually kota starts to trust her more

WOW thats a lot huh!! i apologize for how damn much that was and i haveny even talked about the prime defenders or their siblings, xavier and alan, the lambert brothers or what wavelengths and tides whole deal is here

thanks so much for asking!!

[story-stew]

Yo, I'm someone who hit a funk and broke my three month streak of not hurting myself, and am feeling down... splatoon has helped take my mind off things, so would you please write some headcannons on the girls comforting a reader who they caught harming themselves? Thanks in advance, I just need the comfort rn.

I'm really sorry that that happened. I understand how you feel, so I'll gladly write some headcanons for you if they'll make you feel better. You're very strong for going for three months, yknow. And i know you're strong enough to try again. You've got this <3

I'm also gonna put a hotline number at the end for anyone, just in case

Now onto the thingy

‼️Quick TW for Self Harm/Suicide‼️

‎‧₊˚✧[ The Idols Comforting A Self-harming Reader ]✧˚₊‧

(🎨🔫🤬❤️‍🩹) - splatoon angst comfort

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

- - - - - - -

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Callie

Had just come home from a shopping spree when she found you in your room with a bleeding arm

You used one of the kitchen knives

"(Y/N)?! OHMIGOSH, ARE YOU OKAY?! WHAT CUT YO-"

Then she sees the knife next to you

The expressive glow in her eyes was gone

She rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a bunch of paper towels, and began to clean your cuts

Lots of hugs and kisses with a side of kind reassurements were given that night

"(Y/N).. please don't do this to yourself. It's not worth it. It's going to be okay, whatever you're goin' through, yeah?"

She checks in with you a lot more now

Asking how you're feeling, if you've eaten, stuff like that

If you have past scars she'll kiss them

If you're feeling down (like you want to hurt yourself again) she'll give you a bunch of distractions and things to do so you don't

If you relapse, she gives you a big hug and say that it's alright

"That's okay! I'm sure you can go even longer this time! I believe in you!"

She was honestly worried she'd lose you

But she sees that you're healing now and that you're better, and that's all she could ever ask for

She's glad you're still around

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Marie

Also had just come home from shopping, but it was with Callie. She called out to you, but didn't find you in the living room or in the bedroom or kitchen, so she checked the bathroom

She found you with a bleeding leg

You used a razor

She didn't have a very "over-the-top" reaction (unlike Callie)

She just grabbed the first-aid kit you kept in the bathroom and cleaned your wounds.

She didn't wanna scare you

"I may not understand, but I know."

She gave you a tight squeeze after she was done. "I know."

She's a lot less sarcastic with you now

Always tries to make sure you're happy or at least satisfied with yourself

If you feel like hurting yourself she'll bring you into a huge cuddle-sesh until she's sure you're feeling better

Careful, those can last hours

If you relapse, she'd bandage you up and try to make you smile or laugh

"Don't worry, kid. There's always next time."

Despite how sarcastic and snarky she is on T.V., she's very caring and loving

And she'd do anything to make sure you're safe

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Pearl

"(N/N), I brought ya some foo-"

Dropped the plate when they saw you hunched over, crying with a burned arm

You used Pearl's lighter

Rushed over and immediately took the lighter from you. She accidentally burned herself, too, but that was an accident

Yours was on purpose

Pearl isn't all that good at comforting people, so she called Marina in to help

She kissed you, rubbed your back, and whispered sweet words to you while Marina helped your burns

"I'm so sorry.. Whatever happened, it's not your fault."

Pearl would continue to do all those things while you explained why you did that

Needless to say, she felt awful

From here on out, she's always doing things to keep you happy

She might make little songs for you (with the help of Marina's composing) or cook with you (albeit she's not the best cook)

If you relapse, she'll just sit there with you, head on your shoulder, ready to listen if you wanna vent or talk

Or if you just wanna sit there in silence, too

Like I said, she's not the best at comforting people, especially when they've done something like this

But she'll try her best if it's all worth making and keeping you happy

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Marina

She had finally emerged from her recording studio after at least 3 hours of editing and revising music for the Memverse

That's when she found you, bruised and slightly bleeding

You had been biting yourself and bit down really hard

She was confused at first as to why you would do such a thing

She's your personal therapist at this point

Treating the wounds, asking how you're feeling, what happened while she was gone, if you wanna talk, etc. etc.

"I know this won't help, but you shouldn't feel so bad. I am your biggest fan, and I'm always gonna be there to support you and care for you, okay?"

Even if she didn't seem all that terrified, she was incredibly scared that you would bite down too hard and really hurt yourself

Keeps an eye on you and your mood from now own

Just like Callie, she gives you things to do when you feel like harming yourself, just digitally

Lets you run through the memverse demo as many times as you'd like

If you relapse, she'll kiss your wounds (when they're clean) and say that was a good try, and that you can do better than before

But, she really wasn't lying when she said she was your biggest fan and supporter

She always was, and she always will be

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Shiver

She had just finished training a bunch of sharks just a ways from your house. She came home, fan in hand, and called out for you

You didn't respond, so she began to look for you

She found you in the bedroom, clawing at your arm

Since your nails weren't that sharp, it didn't draw blood, but it was enough to leave a mark

You swore she turned paper white when she gasped

She gasped so loud people in Inkopolis could've heard her

She quickly recollected herself and rushed over to help you

I have a headcanon that shiver excessively fans herself when she's on edge, so she did a lot of that here

"(Y/N)?? Why would you do such a thing to yourself? ... Well, please, don't do it again. You're too good of a person to deserve this."

From then on, she was a lot more caring toward you

Less sarcasm, less of a snarky personality, more of a mother figure

Makes sure you've eaten, and that you haven't harmed yourself (and that you won't anytime soon)

Also makes you trim your nails so you can't scratch yourself again

If you relapse, she encourages you to try and make your streak longer the next time

She may not show it half (or 3/4) of the time, but she really cares about you. And it would deeply hurt her if she lost you

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Frye

Randomly woke up from a really good nap, turned over, and saw you hitting yourself on your arms, legs, and head

She probably woke up due to your hitting moving the bed

You bruised your legs and arms and gave yourself a massive headache

Frye immediately tried to constrain you (and you gave in since she's freakishly strong. she's broken a rock before. twice.)

Started bombarding you with questions

"(Y/N)?! What happened?? Why were you beating yourself up?"

You broke down, and she immediately pulled you into a tight hug

"Hey, now! Don't cry! It's alright, I'm right here! I'm awake now, and I'm not gonna let anything or anyone hurt you, ya hear?"

Considering how she has siblings, she's actually pretty good at comforting people. She does, however, get extra advice from Big Man from time to time

Just like Shiver, she makes sure you've eaten and that you don't start hitting yourself again

Also makes it clear that it's perfectly fine to open up to her whenever you need to and whenever she has time to listen

If you do ever relapse, she's never mad. She'll just comfort you and ask you to try again

Frye's got a soft side, especially when it comes to you. And she's not afraid to show it if it means you'll be alive and well

- - - - - - -

‧₊˚ ⋅ 𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅

[artsycloudysleepy]

btw if anyone wants to have a free aphobe blocklist, I'll drop the link to that fucking awful poll over if cishet aro men are LGBTQ+ or not. I think the person turned off reblogs, and I don't want anyone to have to see it if they don't want to, so you have to click/tap on it to see. TW: aphobia. Lots of it. Please do not look at the comments if you don't want to subject yourself to a bunch of aphobes being awful, but it's here if you want to look at the comments and block every moron you see. :) PS: aphobes and ppl who think that cishet aros/aces are not part of the community, get the fuck off my blog. 🖤🩶🤍💜 💚💚🤍🩶🖤

[jaylikesrainbowtigers]

My entry for day 3 of @fallofneilhargrove. The prompt was Public Scorn and Don’t make enemies of the local knitting club.

Tw: abuse, abuser point of view, arrest, jail and swears

————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

Neil Hargrove was having pretty fucking good day. He had been to work, had Susan cook him a proper meal and had sat down to watch football. Like a proper man does.

Sure, things had gotten a bit sticky when attempting to get Billy to be a proper man again but that’s just what Neil had needed to do. Really the bruises were the boys fault. His lack of respect to his elders was a serious problem and there was only one way Neil could sort that. Eventually the pussy had to learn respect.

The game was on full blast and his fresh beer was nice and cold when Susan edged into the room. Neil’s forehead creased. That damn woman was ruining the game.

She stuttered out a “Neil. There… There’s a package for you.” She held out a brown, lumpy package addressed to him.

“Fuck off, woman. Can’t you see the game is on!” He snatched the package out of her hand and ignored her gasp of pain.

He ripped open the paper expecting a awful jumper or something. A belated birthday gift from a aunt or something.

Instead, he got an equally cushy lump of knitting. He scoffed and thought what grandma made this shit? The lump of brown knit unfurled in his hands revealing a bunch of what resembled letters. Neil twisted it around in his hands trying to make out the letter. Ne lnow vhol gau’re dainy. What? He looked a little closer and his blood ran cold.

We know what you’re doing.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Click, click, click.

———————————————————————————————————————————

It was the next week and Neil had put the knitting out of his mind. It was probably a mistake or a prank. Neil had absolutely nothing to be ashamed of. He was certain of it.

In fact he was so sure, he had burnt the knitted monstrosity outside. He wasn’t scared of some stupid message.

Which was why when Susan slipped in holding an identical brown package to the one the week before he paid her no mind. No, he certainly didn’t pause the TV to scream at her and snatch the parcel away from her.

He tore open the now familiar brown wrapping to see a flash of blue. He pulled the knit outside of its wrapping to show off the blue hat. The half he was holding looked normal.

The red lettering he revealed by turning the hat spelt was again hard to read. Or perhaps the reader was a little bit drunk.

Asshole.

———————————————————————————————————————————

The crunch of bourbons filled the air.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Wednesday had arrived again. Neil didn’t have the football on this time. He wanted to see if what he had did stopped the knitting.

He had been so sure it was some type of prank. It had to be one of the people in his house. Of course, his pathetic excuse for a son was first. Perhaps he should have held off on the punishment before searching his room to find nothing.

The next day he had been down to the craft shop of Hawkins. According to Claud or whatever her name was from the shop, the boy had never set foot in that shop in his whole life. She would have remembered as she was the only worker there. Neil felt the urge to smack her rise again. Alas he couldn’t smack another man’s wife. He’d go to jail because there would be obvious proof.

Next step was to check his stepdaughters room. An unlikely culprit but one to try anyway. The girl wouldn’t get into anything suiting for girls no matter what he did. She wasn’t going to start just to knit him stuff. Clear.

He told Susan not to go anywhere near the mail box today. There was no way she could have knitted them without him knowing.

He pulled himself up from the couch. Time to see if his counterfeit measures had worked. He opened the post box.

Lo and behold a brown package was crumpled in there. His hands had a slight shake to them as he pulled out the package. It was slightly bigger than the rest.

He unwrapped it in the living room. A green jumper came out of the mess, on it knitted a sentence.

Arrest me. I deserve it.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Giggles in the background as the net tightens.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Neil refused to sit this Wednesday. He stood looking out the window. It was package time. On a Wednesday.

The postman stopped at a house. Then the next. And the next. Geez, this guy was slow.

Finally, he arrived. Neil watched like a hawk as he produced the brown package filling Neil’s mind with dread.

In fact, over the course of a week when thinking about the package Neil had a) spilt boiling water all over himself, b) accidentally shaved off half of his moustache, and worst of all c) accidentally screwed up the biggest work project of the season. He was lucky to not get fired. He had gone everywhere feeling like everyone was looking at him. The paranoia of not knowing who was sending the packages. What did they know. Whoever it was had to be ruining Neil’s life.

As he looked out the window he though about who it could be. The lady from the supermarket with the wart? That woman with the blonde hair walking down the road Or maybe next door who he was constantly in a argument with? The odd pair of friends with ten cats down the road? Or that guy he beat at poker the other week? Or the man with the moustache and glasses sat in his car outside? One of his stupid boy’s friends? Or maybe one of Maxine’s friends? An unknown stalker?

Whoever it was still eluded him.

In his thoughts he had managed to collect the parcel. He held the thing in his hand and looked hard at it.

His hands shook as he pulled back the paper. A pair of red gloves fell out of the package. They lay side by side on the floor as if someone was wearing them with their palms facing upwards.

The black text clear for all to see.

Abuser.

Neil jumped as he heard a shout at the door and a group of men entered.

“Freeze! Police!”

———————————————————————————————————————————

The sloshing of wine as a toast to victory. But work wasn’t quite done.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Neil Hargrove was sat down again. It was the next Wednesday after his entire life had changed.

His orange jumpsuit itched and his bunk mate snored loudly. His bunk mate wouldn’t cower under him. The large man had left a bruise on Neil’s cheek from the only time Neil had tried to enforce his way on the man. It was supposed to be his house, his rules.

But jail certainly wasn’t his house.

And the worst thing was that he didn’t know how. How had it gone so, so wrong? The police had presented him with the photos and the files. Weeks worth of photos, videos and even recordings all painstakingly took. A solid lot of evidence to sink him down. Each strike left on his son. Recordings of his screams slid over his soul. Videos of what he did in his own house.

It had to be connected to the knitting. The evidence hadn’t started collecting until a mere week before that. The calendar in the background of so many photos had proved that.

And here he sat another brown package in hand. This time delivered by a prison guard.

Neil felt like weeping. But of course he didn’t because real men don’t cry. And Neil’s a man.

A orange scarf trailed out of the package. A perfect match to his prison garb. More bold black letters stared out at him.

You got what you deserved.

The contact card of the Hawkins Knitting Club lay forgotten on the floor.

———————————————————————————————————————————

Four beings of pure rage sat around a table six weeks ago.

Joyce a woman who had lived under a man like Neil. She had children living under a man like Neil. She wouldn’t let him get get away with it.

Claudia who had lost her husband but loved all the more fiercely because of it. No one would hurt a child under her watch.

Sue who was largely unspoken but Sinclair's fight for those who can’t. No matter what Sue didn’t let it slide and she would always fight.

Murray who ran on rage and spite. He was always ready to take people like Neil down. It was his shit, his life’s goal.

They raged in a circle when Joyce had met the brother-sister duo of Max and Billy. When she saw the signs. Neil had crossed the wrong club.

Don’t make enemies of the local knitting club.

So they did what they did best. They knitted.

Not only that but they were patient. Knitting was a craft of patience.

Murray and Joyce sat outside of the house. Everyone went out and they went in. They had plenty of experience planting cameras and listening devices. Murray continued watching and took photos when he could. Claudia made sure to put salt into that man’s coffee every time he asked for sugar. He never remembered her despite seeing her serve him at both the craft show and the coffee shop. Men like him never noticed women like her. Sue was the one who made the call as she compiled evidence meticulously. Erica obviously got it from her mom. She wouldn’t miss a single moment until this guy was finished. And all of them knitted. They knitted until their fingers felt like bleeding. They had a lot to knit as they needed to make this perfect. And perfection takes time.

In the end it was the rage of the knitting club that tore Neil Hargrove down. Because you should never underestimate a bunch of mothers and a journalist who are thriving off coffee, bourbons and wine.