#x ginger reader

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

George Weasley likes sweet girls who are kinda mean to him and i dont make the rules

[rachaeldafrog]

My current fixation is Dandy’s world and now I’m just gonna post a bunch of yandere dandy’s world x reader art just because I can.

So if any of you see this, feel free to drop any specific toons you wanna see :)

I also drew everyone because I love them so so so so so so much

[duckduckgoosebutitsinatrench]

As much as i love all the other Yuu ships like Malleyuu, Silyuu, Jadeyuu, floydyuu, Jamiyuu, etc. NOTHING and i mean NOTHING is funnier than Ace mother fucking Trapollo Just Some Guying his way into Yuus bed

[slasherscream]

Crazy Ass Girls Gang ft. what type of yandere are they

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine / clingy, obsessive, manipulative 

You'd better be damn sure you want to be with Tiffany before you ever bring up dating her because there is no escape once you've embarked on the exciting journey of being her romantic partner.

But if we're being honest you never really had a choice. You think you met organically? Became close by fate? No, Tiffany saw you and wanted you and decided to have you.

It was love at first sight on her part.

You'll be friends for a few months as she weaves the inescapable web around you. Best friends, actually. You'll tell her absolutely everything about yourself. Learn everything about her in turn. It's pure bliss to have a friend like Tiffany. Supportive, charming, affectionate.

You can tell she loves you more than anything. Loves you more than anyone else has ever loved you before, and she isn't afraid to show it.

You probably already had a partner when you met Tiffany. She was heartbroken when you first told her. The heartbreak didn't last long. Why cry over spilled milk? She wants to take it slow with you anyways, make sure that this time every aspect of the life you build together will be perfect.

She's come in too heavy before. You can't rush perfection, her mother always told her. For you, the lesson is finally worth learning.

Everything can be a tool. In the right hands. And Tiffany's hands? Why, they're incredibly skilled. She uses your soon-to-be-ex as a diving board for your upcoming relationship with her. Even if you'd been perfectly content with the relationship until you met Tiffany, suddenly everything is awful.

Tiffany points out every mistreatment. Every cancelled date. Every strange tone they used when talking to you. Every shitty, unoriginal gift. Every moment they weren't enthusiastic enough about good news you had to share.

It gets to the point where you can't even look at them half the time. You'll end dates with your partner early just to go spend more time with Tiffany: "What do you think they meant when they said that, Tiff?" / "I think they forgot who they were talking to, sweetheart! They're lucky I wasn't around or I would've cut out their tongue."

Tiffany has you so wrapped around her finger she's not even the one who suggests the break up. She was still going to wait a month or two before she began to truly push.

But when you show up at her doorstep in the middle of the night, holding flowers and her favorite takeout, rambling about how you've been so blind and it's always been Her...

Well, she has to smile as she pulls you in, savoring the last first kiss your lips will ever gift another soul.

She almost forgot how good she is at getting what she wants.

Jordan Li / protective, obsessive, lucid

You're so sweet. It was the first thought Jordan remembers having about you. The beginning of the end. They haven't been able to stop thinking about you since that one fatal moment.

Jordan has plenty of other things to think about. Things that should outclass you in importance easily. Their ranking, Brink's careful mentoring, their grades. They tell themselves that it all still matters more than you but they know they're lying to themselves.

It scares them a little, how much they actually think about you. Not a minute can go by without their thoughts drifting to you.

Did you eat today? / Your next class is in ten minutes, let me walk you, I've got the time. / You were running out of your favorite perfume. Got you a new bottle. / You look upset. Did someone fucking say something to you?

They can't help the way they hover around you during every spare moment they can find.

Jordan knows your schedule by heart to maximize the amount of time you can spend together. It's a balancing act they have to play with their brain for the simplest of tasks: you can spend the rest of the day with Y/N but you have to finish grading these essays first.

They can't function properly when they go too long without you. They swing on their sparring partners too hard. Stare at the clock during lectures instead of listening. They rip textbooks and snap pens by holding them too tight.

Sometimes they have to give up and call you. If they can't go and see you for whatever reason the sound of your voice makes it better. Hearing you talk, the sound of you breathing, laughing. It helps. Calms the buzz beneath Jordan's skin. They dial your contact, glaring into space as they wait for you to pick up. As soon as you do their body relaxes.

They recognize that their behavior isn't normal. Always needing to know where you are, who you're with. Feeling sick when they don't know.

You're like a drug for Jordan. They know you're an addiction, the way you've crawled under their skin. No high on earth compares, and Jordan has fucking compared them all. They pull you into their lap, as close as they can get you and it's never enough. Nothing is ever enough.

"Please don't fucking go anywhere, yeah?" Jordan will mumble into the skin of your neck. Their grip on you is too tight, face twisted at the desperation they feel. It's not pillow talk. They're begging. Genuinely. They'd do anything to keep you this close, always.

"Of course not, Jordie." You coo back. They close their eyes and pretend the words are enough. Nothing ever is.

Nancy Downs / delusional, possessive, obsessive

As soon as Nancy wants you there's no other option for you besides her. You can either choose to go along with it or you can fight it.

Fighting against her is like fighting against the tide, though. You can tread water for awhile. Keep your head afloat, sure. But eventually you'll get tired. Nature wins. Besides, fighting against Nancy becomes unpleasant fast. Being hers is so much nicer. She's gentler that way, kinder.

You're allowed to have friends, she doesn't isolate you completely.

It's just your old friends sucked. They didn't appreciate you. Didn't look out for you. Selfish users just like everyone else. Moths are always drawn to the light, and she'll kill every moth that strays a little too close to you, before it ever gets a chance to singe itself on your warmth. It's a mercy, really. Living a life in the darkness and having one brief moment in the sun is miserable. Nancy should know. It almost drives her crazy when you're not around. If you ever left she'd want to be put out of her misery too.

Her coven, though? They're perfect. Her coven is a family. And you were the last missing piece of it.

Anything about your old life, the life before her, can be viewed as a threat at a moment's notice. Family. Friends. Memories you speak of a little too fondly. Even a hobby could do it. She wants your focus to be her. It's only fair, her only focus is you.

Even when she's not around. Even when you're completely alone you swear you can feel her eyes on you. Her magic drifting against your skin as if she was sitting right beside you.

Nancy's intensity can be scary but she makes anyone else's love seem dull in comparison.

Who else could love you like she does? Who else would die for you? Nancy wouldn't even have to think about it first. All she asks in return is for you to do the same. Live for her. Dedicate every breathe in your lungs to her.

It's not so hard, she'll lead by example.

Jennifer Check / manipulative, possessive, clingy

She couldn't give a shit about anyone else but you. Somehow you managed to sneak your way into her heart and she can't let go of you. Won't let go of you. You're the only thing that's keeping that small, soft, human part of her alive. You dragged that bit of her back from the grave she put it in, actually. So it wouldn't be fair for you to try and leave, after you made her weak again. Human again.

Her world revolves around you. Her priorities are her next meal and you. Of course she gets pissed off if you don't reciprocate her energy. Look at her, how could you ever put anything above her?

Jennifer wants you to be everything to each other, though she won't say it out loud. It shows in her actions.

You belong to her. Every version of yourself that exists in the world should belong to her. The version of you that you are when you're someone's best friend. When you're someone's partner. It's all hers. She won't let anyone else take root in your life in a role that she can fill. She'll do a better job anyways.

The enormity of her ego and the way she clings might seem at odds. She thinks she's a God walking amongst fucking cattle. But she sticks to you like a second skin. A hand always at your waist. Her lips always chasing yours, whining when you don't give in fast enough, when you don't melt like she does. Her grip iron clad when you hold hands. If you pull away too soon from a hug, from a kiss, she bites, she holds on with claws.

She coos at the marks she leaves on your skin and kisses all the scratches and bruises she leaves better. / "I'm sorry baby, you know I hate letting you go."

Carrie White / idolizer, protective, selfless

Not in her wildest dreams did Carrie think anyone could be as kind as you. People are cruel. Their first instinct is to cause hurt before they'll ever reach out a hand to help, to shield, to love.

But you're not like that at all. You're something ripped straight from a fairy-tale. The rare ones that her Mother let her read, that weren't hiding devil worship between their poetic words.

You're so patient with her. So gentle. You treat her like glass. You hold her close, and kiss her soft, and cup her face in your hands that are always so warm.

You say you love her in a breathless way, every time. Like even expressing how much you care makes you dizzy. As if she overwhelms you. She feels dizzy herself as she hangs on your every honeyed word. Clings to you every time you reach out your hands to hold her.

Carrie doesn't know if she believes in God nowadays, but if she did you'd be an angel sent straight from heaven. A gift, maybe, to make up for all the years of torment she endured from everyone she'd ever known.

She'd think you were some kind of God yourself, if you had any sort of abilities like her. But you don't. You walk around doing what's right, being good down to the marrow of your very bones just because it's who you are. You greet the world with your fists raised and you're only human, and it scares Carrie so much.

You're the last decent person alive and you'll throw yourself onto any pyre you see if it means doing what's right. Carrie loves that about you. It terrifies her.

So Carrie throws herself into the ring with you. Your sweet, gentle Carrie who you're always trying to protect. But Carrie doesn't need your protection. She's not the helpless little girl she used to be. She won't let anything hurt either of you, from now on. For the rest of your lives you'll be safe, happy. Together. Carrie would burn the world to ash if it meant not a scratch would befall you.

"You're an angel, Y/N. The most wonderful angel God ever made."

Ginger Fitzgerald / possessive, impulsive, protective,

Sometimes Ginger wishes everyone else in the world would disappear, besides the two of you. They're a hindrance.

She feels insane when she watches you. She feels her claws come out and makes herself bleed as she fights against the instinct to rip out every tongue that speaks to you, and every pair of eyes that's ever looked into yours.

She shivers when you claim her. The only time she enjoys being around other people now is when you're introducing her: "This is Ginger, my girlfriend." "This is Ginger, my partner." "This is Ginger, my best friend." "This is Ginger, my everything."

She loves being yours. Relishes in the way you say the word mine. She wants to lick the words from your mouth, the weight of your total ownership over her sweet and poisonous.

She wonders if you get the same pleasure from belonging to her. She wants you to. She wants to carve her name into your skin with her claws and have you moan at the first sharp sting of the letter G.

It's primal, the way she wants you. Beyond anything humans have words for. She leaves her scent on your skin and wants to growl when you wash it away with artificial soaps and perfumes. She sucks bruises into every inch of you that anyone else could see.

She wants you to do the same. Wants to roll onto her back and expose her neck, and have you bite so hard you draw blood.

Ginger's wanting comes with teeth. What she is demands she sinks her teeth into things, that she draws blood. Even when she loves you. Because she loves you, maybe. She needs to leave a mark on you. She needs to always be there. She needs the same from you.

Needs you to leave scars on her that she can touch when you're not around. Proof that you were there. Proof that you're coming back. You don't carve your name into things and then abandon them. When you own things you keep them.

When you're gone the world goes dim and cold. She couldn't survive in a world without you. She wouldn't even attempt it. What would be the fucking point?

"We're a pair. We belong to each other. Always, yeah?"

[rororonyan]

Yandere korean tiger x ghost darling

"Hm? Running off again? Haah, there's really no manners on you are there.."

Apparently, "A changgwi is a type of ghost in Korean folklore that was killed by a tiger and cannot pass onto the afterlife, forced to serve the tigers for eternity as slaves unless they succeed in luring in a new human victim to take their place instead. (Tigers were often viewed as divine creatures, and were frequently regarded as lords/guardians/gods of their mountains.)"

Okay, well, maybe the tiger killed them on purpose and purposefully keeps them away from travelers because they want to be with their favorite human forever and ever

[vyyper]

knight!childe heavy on my mind today...him literally signing off as 'your loyal knight' in a letter to his younger sister and the fact that he never breaks a promise makes him so perfect as a knight...

(not historically accurate at all i imagine, forgive me i'm brainrotting </3)

growing up as your best friend, son of some noble family your parents knew. you'd read stories together as children, tales of knights fiercely defending royalty. closing books and lying back on the floor, tender smiles on your faces as your fingers interlock in pinkie promises to stick together forever. you'd sneak him around the castle grounds, watch the knights spar and train. ajax would look at them with wide, fascinated eyes— but you thought it wasn't in his future. this was a boy who begged you to kill bugs, who got shy around the palace servants. you'd often tease him that you'd just have to protect him.

until he falls.

he returns violent, impulsive, and the sweet boy you once knew feels dead. his parents, horrified and ashamed of what their son has become throw him into training, in hopes it'll calm him down.

but not only does it bring him real battle opportunities, he has the motivation of protecting you now. he climbs up into the ranks, with an oath to protect your family, but especially, protect you.

he's your personal guard, your sword and shield, but you don't want things this way. you assure him he doesn't need to stick to you 24/7, let him have his own time, but that's almost worse. he finds strong opponents, returns bloodied and beaten with a smile on his face, beaming that he's only making the world safer for you when he sees your horrified expression.

ajax has become the hero in the tales you used to read together, the knight you two watched on the training grounds, and you couldn't be more afraid for him. you hold his bloodied hands, rinsing the blood from them carefully, rough and calloused and scarred. the soft expression he gives you is reminiscent of the boy you once knew, but something about his eyes is horribly wrong.

he's still sweet, still as funny and kind to you as ever. still your best friend, still yours. but he's different, and it terrifies you.

you don't get it, he thinks. that pinkie promise he made, that oath? promises. and ajax has never been one to break a promise. he'll hack through anyone, anything. all to keep you safe, and all to return back to your side. he's your loyal knight, to the very end, and he hopes you feel the devotion pouring out of his chest when he kneels and kisses your hand.

[m1nsur0]

[JTTW OC: 智平] They never announced they were officially together during the journey, they just started to exclusively wear coordinated outfits and expected everyone else to get the hint.

(click for quality) (click this for wukong solo post!)

[mawlaeina]

Childe is a family man.

Of course he loves his current family—so much that he spoils them everytime he comes home to Snezhnaya.

But recently he’s come to a point where he’s thought of making a family of his own. Sadly, he’s been too busy with his work as a harbinger to even find someone he wants to get to know better.

That all changed though when he saw you comforting Teucer at the lake nearby his family cabin.

When he came to the lake, he wasn’t expecting hearing the sad sobs of his younger brother Teucer. Instinctively, he began to run through the snowy terrain and towards where the cries were coming from.

There he saw you, panicking and reassuring Teucer (albeit timidly). Teucer had clung to you, hugging you tightly as he cried his eyes out on your shoulder, and there you were—knelt to the young ginger’s height as you embraced him, softly patting his back to soothe whatever was ailing him.

Something ticked inside Childe’s head, and before he knew it he was walking towards you with a glint of interest in his eyes.

Childe called out to Teucer, and Teucer let go of you to rush over to his older brother. It put a smile on Childe’s face knowing he was still his younger brother’s favorite. You stood up, and both of you introduced each other.

You say that you were new, having just moved into the neighborhood from Liyue. Currently, you began to work as a tutor for the neighborhood kids, adding that you’ve always liked kids and wanted to help and see them grow up. It gave you such a fulfilling experience.

Oh, you had no idea how that statement made Childe’s blood rush to his head… and pants.

He smiled, saying that he also liked kids, his younger brother Teucer in particular. He asks how you managed to meet Teucer since he usually just stays inside playing with the Mr. Cyclops toys that Childe gave him everytime he returned. You reply that you visited his family cabin because his mother invited you over after helping her with some groceries before.

Teucer randomly began to mention how his brother was single—much to his own brother’s surprise. Who taught him that? Childe thought as he awkwardly laughs it off in front of you, though he secretly hoped you’d take interest in such a topic.

Before any of you could even say another thing, Teucer began to go off again, talking to his brother how pretty you were, and how he liked and wanted you to be another one of his big sisters. You were flattered of course and chuckled at the cute ramblings of the kid.

You asked Childe if this was a normal thing, and Childe responded that he doesn’t usually do this. You began to talk to each other, and Teucer seemed to notice how the two of you got a long so well so quickly.

So he asked you the million dollar question.

“Hey, will you marry my big brother Ajax?” He asks abruptly, stunning you and Childe momentarily.

A blush forms on your cheeks as you began to laugh bashfully, scratching your cheeks with a finger, unsure of how to respond to the child without sounding too bad.

“Uhm… Teucer, we just met.” You say to the young boy.

“But you’ll marry him, right?” He seemed so excited at the thought, and Childe was as well, though he decided to laugh it off.

“Teucer, don’t get too excited now. No one’s rushing for me to get married.” Childe tells his younger brother kindly, though Teucer only pouts.

Oh, but the plans that Childe began to have in his head after Teucer mentioned marriage. He definitely saw a possibility that he could spend a future with you.

Maybe give him some time, get to know him. You’ll definitely find yourself spoiled rotten in the future by this handsome Snezhnayan bachelor.

✦ I’m not obsessed with him, I’m not obsessed with him, I’m not-

✦ happy birthday to my dearest darling harbinger and husband

[Good lord I just wanna pamper him with kisses in the face]

[gingersforeverbox]

Friendly reminder:

The reason I am pointing this out:

It is canon that he most likely can lift you. Don’t listen to people who say that he can’t. It’s your fic, it’s your body, you deserve to see representation with your fav’s. If you want to see Logan with bigger people, it is completely within reason to say that he could still pick them up.

[darsynia]

Saw the creativepromptsforwriting post...

I would like to place a order :)

Steve Rogers, MCU/reader is an avengers hero, #12 corner mouth kisses/maybe #57 trembling mouth kiss

I can't believe I let myself think I'd do UP TO 500 WORDS! Steve/Reader, fluffy AF coworker love declarations facilitated by one ginger cat named Kirk. 2,200 words <- OOPS.

Excerpt:

You powerwalk over to the door and pull it open right as you hear the repulsors make their ‘ready to fuck shit up’ noise. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Oh look, you’re alive!” Tony says, completely unphased by your vehemence. “As your friend and teammate, let me save you both some time here: you--” he points to Steve “--need to tell her you’ve been making secret drawings of this woman’s every possible facial expression and you--” he points to you “--ought to let him know you stay after sparring sessions to hand-sew the rips in his suit. I’m talking before it’s laundered. Now, go kiss or something. Note how I didn’t say ‘go play with the pussy?’ That’s camaraderie. Stark out.”

With his verbal grenades expended, Tony grabs the door handle from your nerveless fingers and pulls it firmly shut.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Steve says in a stunned voice.

The Trouble With...

When you woke up this morning, you had a ground floor apartment and a pet cat. When you got back from your day of team training an hour ago, there was no cat to be seen, and your front door was cracked open to the apartment lobby.

A frantic call to your landlord revealed that they’d sent maintenance workers to finally fix the leaking toilet in your unit (with zero notice. Pepper Potts said she’s ‘on it,’ and you suspect your landlord won’t enjoy that experience one bit). 

The following sequence of events was where everything kind of fell apart.

You love your cat, and your first instinct was to call your teammate and training buddy, Steve Rogers. Your voice had been shaky during the call as you wandered the nearby alleys calling for Kirk and shaking his favorite earth-shaped cat toy. Steve asked twice as many questions as you even understood on the phone, until finally he said he would be right there to help out. You’d thanked him, bent over next to a dumpster, and sobbed.

Two minutes later, Tony Stark had flown in to use his HUD to search for small animal-shaped heat signatures. “Wow. That’s a lot of rats.”

Thor had sauntered up not long afterwards, Bifrost smoke still following his footsteps, but his ‘special cat whistle’ appeared to be inaudible to humans and cats. Not rats though, according to Tony.

Clint texted you a search grid diagram that had suspiciously blood-colored smudges on it, but before you could ask him about it, Nat sent the larger frame image of his lunch (BBQ wings) beside the printouts. “Don’t worry about him, I have some leads,” she’d told you.

By the time Steve showed up on his motorcycle in street clothes, you were completely overwhelmed, and you’d spent more time managing the feelings of your fellow Avengers than your own. As soon as you saw him approach on the bike, you let out a long sigh, pasted on a smile, and headed straight for your apartment building. You needed to feel safe and at home for the coming conversation.

As soon as you touched your own doorknob though, you realized something.

Was that maybe how Kirk felt too? Maybe for Kirk, the enemy of the week was the maintenance man who invaded the ‘ship’ of your apartment, and your cat wasn’t equipped with enough Dilithium Crystals, Phasers, or Tribbles to deal with it this time. When you had found the door open, you’d called out his name and rushed all over the place looking for him, but what if the sound of your voice just wasn’t enough for Kirk to trust that things were back to normal?

Steve’s arrival forgotten, you rushed into your apartment and tried to think of where Kirk’s ‘safe space’ would be. There was a damaged vent on the wall under the bed that he sometimes fiddled with--could he have finally broken it enough to go exploring? You were on your hands and knees setting one of his favorite treats on the floor next to the bed when Steve tapped gently on the door. 

“When I heard how upset you were on the phone call, I--”

Without thinking about the exact words, you blurted out, “Rogers, I love you, but you need to get out, right now. I think I found Kirk, but if there’s someone else here--”

You were so worried about your cat that you didn’t hear what he said in response.

*

You wake up on your side a few hours later on the floor, head resting on your pillow, with Kirk sleeping peacefully on the rug beside you. The bag of treats you’d grabbed to lure him from the vent in the wall is lying on the floor nearby, completely empty.

“Are you serious right now? Ginger cats, I swear to God.”

A judicious application of duct tape patches up the vent hole, so you head into the kitchen to make yourself some coffee. As the machine whirs to life, you unlock your phone to find multiple messages from each Avenger, all demanding to know if you are okay, if Kirk is okay, if you and Kirk are okay, if your landlord is around for a ‘casual conversation,’ and so on.

“Nope,” you say aloud, popping the ‘p’ for Kirk’s benefit. Of course, that’s when there’s a knock at your door.

It’s Steve, and he’s hovering like something happened during the disproportionate Assemble. “Hey, can I-- Well, first things fir-- Safe to assume you found your cat?”

“Yes, thank goodness” you say, ushering him in. He’s holding back, shifting from foot to foot, which is strange. You’ve held game and movie nights here before, and once or twice you and Steve had stayed up late afterwards talking, but now he’s acting like he’s never been here before. “Kirk went adventuring in the ductwork. I lured him out with treats, but he took so long I fell asleep on the floor.”

A lot of Steve’s tension drains away at that, and he smiles sheepishly. “Oh! So not answering any messages was-- Not that you have to, of course, that’s not what I--”

“Left my phone in the kitchen!” you say briskly, settling onto the couch so that Steve will be forced to sit out of innate politeness. “I just didn’t want to spook Kirk any more than he already was-- which reminds me, I’m sorry I snapped at you, or whatever. I don’t really--” 

“About that,” Steve interrupts, lurching a couple more steps into the living room.

“Are you okay?” you finally ask. He’d taken off his baseball cap when he walked in, and has been twisting it in his hands in an anxious way ever since. “Sit down?”

“Right, of course,” Steve says, sitting at the edge of the cushion at the far end of the same couch as you. “I’m fine.”

“Good.” Kirk takes that moment to hop up onto your lap, and you let the moment stretch out as you smile politely, hoping Steve will explain what his deal is. It doesn’t work. He is giving off intense ‘waiting for bad news at the ER’ energy, and you can’t take it anymore. “All right, soldier. Spill it.”

Steve laughs weakly, and just like that, the odd suspense drains away. “That obvious, huh? Okay.” He swallows.

That comparison to the ER is starting to feel more and more plausible. “Is... someone hurt and you’re afraid to tell me?”

Steve answers in a headlong rush. “You said you loved me. When you told me to get out of your bedroo-- apartment.”

Suddenly all the obstacles to saying those words for real just melt away.

“That’s because I do!" you whisper, your voice becoming more and more confident as you continue. "I didn’t mean to tell you like that, of course. It slipped out, easy as breathing--because it is. Easy, that is. To love you.” Ironically, your chest feels like you’ve been holding your breath for a couple of months. Kirk’s still on your lap, but his ears show his annoyance at yet another disruption.

“I never-- I’ve dreamed about thi-- Right.” Steve stops himself, stands up, and takes two big steps closer to you before sitting down again, sending your heart into a rolling gallop and Kirk off to an away mission. “I’m falling in love with you. I want to be honest about that.” His eyes trace your face over and over as if determined to etch this moment into his memory. “I kept telling myself it wasn’t right to fall for a teammate--”

“Or, you know, the symbol of all that’s good and right with the world in superhero form,” you tease.

Steve takes your hand, looking at into your eyes with all the sincerity in the world and says, “What’s good and right with the world is this, us. If you’re okay with finding out what that’s like, that is?”

His phrasing is confusing, but the sentiment behind it has you even more in love with him than ever. Steve starts to lift your hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it-- and a loud knock sounds on the door.

“Shoot!” he says, jumping to his feet. “I told Tony to come by if he didn’t hear from me. Because there might be something wrong, or--”

“Open up, one of your neighbors told me I bought a bad replica of the Iron Man suit and I’m feeling a powerful urge to prove them wrong!” Stark says, tapping on the door again.

You powerwalk over to the door and pull it open right as you hear the repulsors make their ‘ready to fuck shit up’ noise. “Don’t. You. Dare.”

“Oh look, you’re alive!” Tony says, completely unphased by your vehemence. “As your friend and teammate, let me save you both some time here: you--” he points to Steve “--need to tell her you’ve been making secret drawings of this woman’s every possible facial expression and you--” he points to you “--ought to let him know you stay after sparring sessions to hand-sew the rips in his suit. I’m talking before it’s laundered. Now, go kiss or something. Note how I didn’t say ‘go play with the pussy?’ That’s camaraderie. Stark out.”

With his verbal grenades expended, Tony grabs the door handle from your nerveless fingers and pulls it firmly shut.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” Steve says in a stunned voice.

Your body has forgotten how to multitask, so you alternate between taking delighted gasps of air and feeling your heart hammer halfway through your ribcage. “You've made sketches of me? I love your art. I was trying to work my way up to telling you that you haven’t been drawing enough.”

“I’m doing it all the time, it’s just you, so I couldn’t, you know. Let you see them.” Steve steps close, herding you against the door, one hand coming up to trace an incredulous caress along your hairline. “You’re insane. I smell terrible after those workouts.”

Bursting out laughing, you bury your head in his chest, feeling and hearing the joyful laughter he lets out along with you. Steve kisses your hair, then your temple, creating a pathway of small steps toward your lips, symbolic of the way your association with each other has grown. By the time he’s pressing a heated kiss at the corner of your mouth, you’re grasping at him with both fists, full of anticipation.

Steve abandons his earlier restraint and takes charge, as though the wait set him on fire and the only way to quench it is through tasting you. One hand grasps your hip firmly, pulling you close, and you tangle your hand into his hair, pouring all the daydreams and late nights of wanting him into this first moment of connection.

It’s many minutes later when he finally gentles the kiss and steps back, apologetically holding up his phone. “I don’t trust Tony to tell everyone he’s made contact,” Steve explains. He taps at the touchscreen keyboard, frowning at the times his large fingers hit two letters at once, while you try to gather all of your molecules into a cohesive version of yourself ala the Star Trek teleporter.

When he’s finally done, you drop a kiss on his bicep, grinning at the thrill that you can even do something like that, even in private. “Thank you. I’m all people’d out today, I should have answered some of the messages that I got, but I saw them and my brain turned off. I’m all out of spoons.”

He snaps his fingers and points at you. “I know this one. You wake up with 100 spoons or something, and you spend them on--”

“Hold on. You might wake up with 100 spoons, but we’re not all supersoldiers!”

“Fair enough. Speaking of which, I’m sensing you’ve nearly run out by now. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow?” 

He’s doing that thing with his eyes, the one where he’s warm and understanding and the perfect man for you and-- Steve clears his throat, and you realize you were staring. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I get to draw those, you don’t,” he smiles, then chivalrously takes your hand to kiss the back of it. “Seven sound good?”

You nod. Two minutes later your sitting on your couch screaming into a pillow, and Kirk hops up to meow at you.

“I’m all out of treats, dude. You played yourself!” Another mrrow. “Yeah, okay, yes. You did play an integral part in my current state of delirious happiness. I’ll get another bag tomorrow, k, K?” Kirk rubs up against your elbow, and you take that as a ‘yes.’ “You know what? I think I’m going to refer to my spoons as Tribbles from now on, in your honor.”

Just like his namesake, Kirk the cat does not seem to like this idea, but you’re busy in your own mental holodeck, reliving the last half hour with a lovesick grin.

[whore-mel]

Roy Harper’s phone. You barely ever see him on it. He has instagram, Snapchat, and TikTok, but he’s almost never active. Hell, when you mention some internet slang or trend, he stares at you like you’ve spoken a different language. So when you catch him scrolling on his phone, you wonder what the hell he’s watching. So, you decide to find out.

You two are on the couch, snuggled up in pajamas and eating snacks. He’s watching a football game, he’s been telling you about it for the past week. Something about how it’s the finals or some shit, you’re not that experienced with football. While he’s watching, you’re on your phone or reading, doing your own thing. Occasionally, you glance at him when he groans, cheers, or starts talking to you, but mostly you’re in separate worlds.

Then you notice his phone on the table. He’s not paying attention to it. Would this be a breach of trust? Yeah. Yeah, it would. But curiosity gets the better of you. Plus, you’re not going through his messages—just checking what he’s scrolling. You grab his phone, and he definitely notices.

You stare at the lock screen. Uh-oh. You don’t know the password.

“Uhm… what’s the password?” you ask, slightly embarrassed.

“Lian’s birthday,” he says with a shrug, eyes still on the game.

You pause. You don’t actually know Lian’s birthday. It makes you feel a bit guilty. Not knowing his daughter’s birthday. But alas. You glance at him for help, he grabs the phone and unlocks it for you. You smile and open his Instagram.

First thing you see? A post from Wally. Whatever. You swipe over to the reels. An engineering reel… Okay? You scroll to the next one. Another engineering reel. Uh… coincidence? Nope. You keep scrolling and eventually sigh, switching to his TikTok instead. Same. Fucking. Thing. Engineering and mechanics reels. And a bit of archery sprinkled in.

You glance at him, he was so oblivious. You start laughing.

“What?” he asks, blinking in confusion. He watches you for a second before laughing softly himself. “What!?” He pokes your side and pulls you closer, genuinely clueless about what you’re laughing about.

“That’s all you watch? Engineering stuff?” You cup his face and you smile. God, he’s such a dad.

He smiles back and shrugs. “I like engineering. And other stuff.” He starts playing with your hair. You roll your eyes and look at the screen.

I genuinely don’t think Roy is ever online. He’s that dad, the one who gets convinced to do something and he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

[blackwell-ninja]

Let’s Show the Foreseer some Love

🔞MDNI: EXPLICIT ❌

Characters; Zayne (Foreseer)/Reader (Female Presenting)

Features: Cunnilingus, Semi-public sex (Not that there was anyone to see anyway)

Makes Paintings with His Tongue

The Foreseer looked quite different from this angle. His arms gripping the edge of the bookcase ladder with force you were worried it would break. His breath heavy on your stomach.

A precarious position that was too heated, it may melt the cold air around you.

Eventually he looked up at you, his gaze wild as it met your own.

You were simply looking at the books in his library. He wasn’t even anywhere nearby that you could tell when your foot slipped. But all of a sudden he grabbed the ladder and silently caught you.

“You’re so careless.” he said eventually, very little edge in his voice as he brushed some hair from your face. “You don’t even think about any danger that you’re in.” He scowled as you thought about saying anything back to him before his lips crashed into yours, but it was more gentle than you would have believed.

And it felt so warm, that you dropped the book so your hand could grip into his hair and you could swear you heard him growl.

When you pulled back from him and his face was flushed you felt your heart skip a beat, in a way that was not expected.

“I won’t apologize,” He said.

“You don’t have too.” You responded. He smirked moving his hands to your hips and leaned to your neck.

“But I do think I need to teach you a lesson about safety. If you’re going to stay here.” His hands grabbed your skirts. Ruffling them up a little bit so his hands could touch your bare thighs.

You shivered a little at the cool touch mixed with pain as he sucked on your neck. Leaving a bruise. “I’m not going to be gentle either. You’ve been breaking a lot of rules here.”

You whined as his hands groped and explored until finding the piece of fabric covering your sex. Wet and needy already. That earned a chuckle from The Foreseer. No. Zayne. You knew that now.

You felt him take a step down on the ladder as his finger pushed the fabric aside to begin rubbing your folds earning a deep moan from him that had your eyes flutter closed. “Good girl. So needy already. I wonder how you taste.”

He took your hips bucking as a positive response so he began kissing up your leg using his free hand to bunch up your skirts so his lips and mouth could explore more freely.

He pulled your undergarments down to your ankles as he pushed your hips to sit on the small step, manhandling you to put your knee over his shoulder. His hands on your hips and his lips kissing both thighs before he began to lick and suck with fervor, gentle languid strokes at first, as you both groaned in harmony.

You did attempt to move at first, and it earned him pushing you back feeling tormented by his slow pace. “I’m going to take my time, flower.” He looked up at you. “You need to learn some patience.”

“Zayne, please.” You said tearfully. Which made him groan in response. So you tested it again. “Zayne.” You put your hands in his hair tugging.

You could feel him pick up the pace then swirling his tongue inside your sex and a hand moved to pinch and run your clit. Which felt electric under your skin fighting against his hold to grind on his face.

To get any purchase you wrapped your legs tightly around his head as you felt your release coming closer to its peak. And all it took was one more groan from him to vibrate through you to bring it forward and he ate it up happily.

You felt him release you and looked at you mischievously. “Good.” He wrapped you up in his arms. “Now lets go onto the next lesson.”

You’re almost grateful for that bookcase ladder.

taglist: @getoslamb

[rachaeldafrog]

PLEASE !!! I need a Yandere Ginger !!! PLEASE !!

MY SOUL WILL BE YOURS !!! JUST TAKE IT !!!

They’re all for you~! So eat up~! I made them with all the love I could put into them… all the love I have for you~

[rocketqueen1989x]

GAWDDDD DAMMMMM😩😩😩

[slasherscream]

I love your writing! And you just get my craziness and character obsessions. I was thinking what would happen if reader had a bruise cheek or lip, and refuse to tell them what happen. Then they discover that the reader was the one who beat the shit out of someone for saying something about their partner, and how proud yet pissed off they will be. I’m think Crazy Ass Girls Gang, need more possessive and protective FMC. Thank you!

warnings: yandere behavior - YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Tiffany Valentine - Tricks you into thinking she’s gonna be normal about it. She purses her lips when you won’t tell her anything, but quietly rushes off to get the first-aid kit. WATCH OUT! You have just activated a trap card: emotional manipulation. Her most powerful weapon. She’ll silently and dotingly take care of you. Disinfectant. Gentle Hands. Careful bandaging. Petulant silence. Painkillers lovingly dropped in your hand. Big sad eyes staring up at you. When you inevitably break and tell her what happened she could melt! She does melt, straight into your arms. You’re gonna be covered in lipstick by the time she’s through with you. Her hero. Don’t worry, she’ll help you clean up… eventually. Later, you’ll have to help her clean up too. It was so romantic of you to fight for her honor…. But she'd never let someone live after they hurt you, silly.

Jordan Li - Won’t drop the line of questioning until you’re damn near ready to fight her too. She hates that you’re hurt. She loves that you wanted to defend her. Jordan gets a lot of criticism, sometimes it seems never ending. The fact that you feel so strongly about protecting her, not because you think she can’t fight her own battles… but because she shouldn’t have to do it all alone? It means a lot. Still, she doesn’t want you getting into fights. Let alone fights over her. It doesn’t matter how badly you hurt the other person. If there are marks on you Jordan is going to go find them for round two. “You like to put hands on people?” Words spoken seconds before disaster (she’s ignoring the fact that you started the fight. Jordan could give a shit about semantics.)

Nancy Downs - Don’t wanna tell her? Cool! Get ready to experience her favorite couple’s activity besides shoplifting: abusing your coven bond to read your mind! Hooray! It will hurt badly. Because Nancy always makes it hurt when you keep her out on purpose, or hide things from her (or when she thinks you’re doing that.) But don’t worry, after she realizes how sweet you really were, she’ll make you feel all better. Cooing over you as much as she ever allows herself to coo. Cleaning your cuts. Healing you with her magic. Trying to ease the fever that always comes whenever she uses your bond in a way she shouldn’t. She thinks you’re the stupidest, sweetest thing. You’re witches. You don’t have to use your fists anymore to win fights. She leaves you with the coven and goes to enact a witch’s vengeance on whoever dared to lay a finger on you. 

Jennifer Check - You’ll try not to tell her but she immediately starts making such wild accusations you have to just come out and admit to why you’re injured. “I can smell someone on you. If you wanted to get beat up to get your rocks off you should’ve just told me, I’d happily beat the shit out of you.” Start talking quickly! She looks like she’s about to start fulfilling that nonexistent wish now. Once you tell her she has to suppress a smile. She’s a demon. She doesn’t need you playing knight in shining armor over what some jealous, mouth-breathing, loser is saying about her… but, it’s kinda hot that you did. She’ll show you just how hot she thinks it is. Then you two are gonna take a nice little drive, and you’re gonna point out the jackass who put bruises on you. She’ll fuck you again after she’s full. “Thanks for finding my next meal, baby.” 

Victoria Neuman - Victoria expects you to have better self control than this. Not telling her what happened isn’t an option. Ever. The look on her face when you first try and insist that nothing happened is enough for you to quietly admit you got into a fight. Her blood pressure sky-rockets. You two have an image to maintain. You’re her spouse. She has enough problems as it is. She’s thinking of viral videos, nightly news, seedy gossip magazines doing think-pieces: do we really want this person standing behind the president as first spouse? When you tell her you fought one of the Boys for trying to convince you she’s a monster? Well…. She goes a little softer. Victoria will pull you into the circle of her arms and thank you for being so loyal to her. She means it from the bottom of her heart. She’s also dreaming of the day she can pop their fucking heads. Touching you. Talking to you. Trying to turn you against her… they’ve crossed her last line. 

Carrie White - The moment she sees you she’s in hysterics: “Oh, Angel, what happened?!” You’re really gonna sit there and not tell her anything? She’s worked herself into an anxiety attack within seconds. She can hardly open the first aid kit, she’s shaking so bad. The sound of your voice is always so soothing for her that you’ll start telling her the story just to have something to say. She listens quietly while she cleans you up. You’ll have to pull her into your lap before long, and kiss her gently. You’re all she has in the world and it scares her to death to think of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger. You’ll fall asleep curled into each other’s arms. You whisper soft reassurances: “Nothing’s gonna happen to me / I’ll always be here.” Carrie tries her best to listen. You’ll wake up alone, but wander downstairs just as Carrie walks through the front door. She wanted to get her knight in shining armor some breakfast from your favorite diner down the street. She watches you eat with a big smile, and thinks about how she’ll have to burn those clothes in the trunk of the car. She couldn't risk them trying to hurt you again.

Ginger Fitzgerald - Don’t piss her off. If you don’t tell her exactly who touched you she’ll rip the entire city apart. Women, children, men, everyone. Anyone. “Do you want me to do that? Huh, baby? Is that what you want me to do?” No? Then start talking. She won’t be able to see through the blood-lust long enough to take care of you. As soon as you say a name Ginger’s out the door. She’ll only return once she’s thoroughly covered in viscera and gore. She’s still dripping with it when she crawls into bed with you, smearing the blood across your body. She’ll lick at any injury you have, until they’re clean and closed, your skin smooth and unblemished. She’s the only thing that can leave marks on you. She’ll kill anything else that tries. “You don’t have to lift a finger for me, baby. If you want someone hurt, I’ll do it. I’ll do anything for you.” Just run your fingers through her hair and try not to cringe as your fingertips get stained red. 

Patricia (Split) - She’s devastated by the state you come home in after she allows you to go out on a walk all by yourself for the first time since you were…. taken. You’d been so good for her. So obedient. So sweet. She wanted to reward you. And now your eye is starting to bruise, and your clothes are all askew, and your knuckles are swollen. Her calm demeanor cracks, and it’s a struggle to stay in the light. She takes deep breaths, centers herself. None of the others are what you need, right now. You need her. She strips you down, runs you a bath, won’t even let you hold the washcloth. It’s only as she’s patting you dry that she can force out words, finally: “What happened to you, sweet thing, hmm?” The guilt nearly brings her to tears. Months of keeping you close and look at what just a pinch of negligence has done to you… You try to assuage her guilt. You tell her you ran into a neighbor, who’d seen the two of you out together once Patricia trusted you enough to accompany her for little things like grocery trips. You say it’s your fault you came back to her in this condition. That you just couldn’t stand the vile things they said about her. Her face drops into an expression you’ve never seen. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by that comforting, ever present smile she wears for you. She takes you by the chin and kisses your forehead: “My little sweet thing. Playing knight, are you?” You had her love before. Tentatively, you had something like trust. Now Patricia trusts you completely. Even so, you won’t be going out alone again. Patricia trusts you. But it’s clear she can’t trust the world to be gentle with you. Don’t worry, though. All you need to do is ask, when you want to feel the sun on your face. You never see that neighbor again, no matter what time of day you and Patricia go walking.

A/N: thank you!!! we need more batshit crazy women with something wrong with them! Batshit crazy women with something wrong with them unite! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[im-trying-my-best-yall]

theres an empty pit in my chest and i think fucking that lanky ginger man would fill it immediately