#<- because this IS his fault . at least a little bit

[corrodedbisexual]

@waning-croissant well... I had to.

"Nope. Outside of D&D, I am no hero," Eddie talks as he keeps walking, a step ahead of Steve. "I see danger and I just turn heel and run. Or at least that's what I've learned about myself this week."

Eddie's not even sure what he's saying anymore, he just knows that if he doesn't keep talking over the nightmarish ambience of this hellscape, he might actually go insane. Hearing his own voice, he can at least pretend like he's just narrating a game, and the rest is his overactive imagination. Not that he actually believes that, of course, it's just... irrationally comforting.

"Give yourself a break, man."

Steve reaches for him, but Eddie's body reacts on autopilot to an unexpected touch, practically slapping the boy's arm away. He's on a roll here, words still spilling right over the all-too-late pang of regret in his chest. It would have been nice to experience, that pat on the chest or squeeze on the shoulder, whatever Steve was going for, if it weren't for Eddie's perpetual skittishness.

"See? The only reason—"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"—I came in here was 'cause—"

"Eddie!"

Eddie's head snaps to Steve as he cuts off the rest of his semi-planned speech, which was suddenly inspired by the sight of Nancy Wheeler ahead of them. If he was the cowardly bard in the story, the least he could be useful for is cheer on the real hero of it. Give the courageous bat-biting paladin the motivation to keep fighting.

"Huh?"

"Do you ever stop running your mouth and listen?" Steve's brows are furrowed, but his tone isn't mean, and there's an amused smile playing on his lips. "You're almost worse than Dustin, Jesus Christ."

Eddie opens his mouth, lets his jaw hang for a second, and closes it again with a click of the teeth, as he processes the words he would have perceived as an insult, had he not been piecing together what the kid meant to Steve for the past several days. It was a bit of a revelation that their relationship ran far deeper than just some giant one-sided platonic crush on Dustin's part, like Eddie had mistakenly assumed throughout most of this year.

Steve takes a small step closer, the first one to invade Eddie's personal space for once, after Eddie's been doing it for the better part of their walk together. Unconsciously, like his body just decided that being tucked into Steve meant safety from the bloodthirsty bats, and the creepy vines, and that Vecna guy they could run into any minute.

"We all ran, all four of us. Just now, when we saw that giant swarm of bats in the distance, remember?" Steve speaks softly, waving his arm vaguely in the direction behind them. "Because sometimes, running and surviving is the only thing you can do."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. He just focuses on looking at the boy's eyes, like a normal person, and trying not stare at his lips moving. But then, when he pauses, Steve's eyes flicker down, and... huh. Huh. Wait, what?

"Of course you've been running. You couldn't have fought Vecna when he took Chrissy. Or Carver's crazy mob, or the entire police force of Hawkins," Steve keeps talking intently, looking into Eddie's eyes again like his gaze never wavered south. "Any more than we could fight that whole swarm. Because we'd definitely be dead now if we tried, no matter how metal you think I am," he adds with a tiny smug smile that's entirely Eddie's fault. "So there's a difference between being a coward, and acting stupid and reckless."

Steve pats his shoulder twice, then turns and keeps walking, and Eddie moves to follow him like on a tether, before his flustered brain even catches up.

"H-hey, I never said you were metal! I said what you did with that bat was metal," he grumbles, thankful for the darkness concealing his undoubtedly flushed face.

"I beg to differ," Steve turns around to tease, grinning, and pointedly tugs on his own collar. "You're the resident metalhead, and I'm wearing your vest, that does make me at least a little bit metal."

Yeah, thanks for the reminder, Harrington. Eddie's not sure what possessed him to throw that thing at the boy. At the time, he only thought of how he wouldn't survive the whole ordeal of Steve's hairy tits on display for much longer, but him in Eddie's clothes? Even worse.

"Fine," Eddie rolls his eyes and shoves his hands into his pockets, catching up to Steve in three quick strides. "Only a little bit though." He sneaks a glance at the boy; Steve's not looking back, once again on guard, surveying their surroundings with his flashlight, but the pleased smile makes its way to his face regardless.

"Doesn't matter why you jumped after us, Munson, you're here now. And don't try to act all modest when you've just saved a guy's ass. Which, by the way..." Steve turns his head to Eddie again. "Nice job with that oar. Too bad you hate jocks, you'd have made a fine hitter on the school baseball team."

Eddie gasps and grips his own chest in mock offense, even as warmth spreads up his neck and pools in the tips of his ears, thankfully hidden beneath his hair.

"How dare you, with these vile insinuations."

"I'm just saying," Steve shakes his head, laughing. "You're pretty... bat-ass, too, Eddie." He glances over again with a shit-eating grin. "Get it? Bat-ass?"

"Oh no, Steve Harrington is actually a dork with terrible puns," Eddie mumbles to himself and sighs, rolling his eyes up to the dark sky.

"Shut the fuck up, my puns are amazing." Steve elbows him in the ribs and chuckles. "You know what, I'm starting to understand why Henderson was obsessed with getting us to hang out."

What is that supposed to mean?

"He... he was?" Eddie gapes.

Another earthquake saves him from the mortifying ordeal of re-assessing the whole Munson doctrine, for the hundredth time this week. And as they hurry along to catch up with the girls, and Steve's hand grips his bicep whenever he falls behind, Eddie wonders if maybe he should just set fire to the doctrine and let it turn to ash.

#steddie #steddie fic #misha-bawlins fanfic

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

I wanna write a really mundane magic reveal.

This has definitely been done before (please send fic recs) but I’m procrastinating and really want to write it.

Literally nothing is happening, Arthur is having a bath, Merlin is tidying up in his chambers one night and everything is basically fine.

Arthur asks Merlin how he manages to always get the bath water perfect and Merlin jokingly says “must be magic” while he’s distracted, Arthur stops and starts thinking about all the fallen tree branches, how his armour is perfect and even if Merlin is late, his food is always hot.

So Arthur realises Merlin is a sorcerer, but not a very good one if all he can do is boring stuff with chores. And if he’s not using magic to defeat all the bandits, it must be because he can’t defeat all the bandits. Not that he’s trying not to die or anything. In fact, the thought of killing Merlin, or of Merlin being punished for his magic, never even crosses his mind.

Arthur shrugs, because Merlin made the joke before, it was just his fault for not noticing it, also his father is still king, so it’s probably for the best that Merlin never said anything, and he tells Merlin to be careful about his magic and to only use it if he’s locked the door.

Merlin’s too shocked by the easy acceptance to panic, so he’s just like: “you’re cool with it?”

And Arthur, oblivious but in love, is just like “well, at least you’re good at something.” Because, sure, Merlin isn’t powerful, but he’s not about to piss off the guy who gives him perfect baths. Then he’s like, “maybe figure out how to lie so my father doesn’t find out about you though. We can figure out the ban once I’m king”

I’m picturing this to be in early/mid season two. Morgana never turns evil, Merlin helps her with her magic because I said so.

So Merlin and Arthur have a while for Arthur getting used to Merlin magically lighting fires, sharpening his sword, adding protection charms to his armour, heating his baths, removing stains from his clothes and even putting them back to being like new if they lost buttons or anything.

Then they go to find the dragonlord, Balinor survives also because I said so.

Merlin tells Arthur Balinor is his father in the inn before they meet him. Arthur is a little worried for Merlin, but ultimately happy for his friend.

Then Merlin uses magic infront of Balinor and Arthur after Merlin told Balinor that he’s his son. Balinor shoves Merlin behind him protectively and Arthur is confused, “why would anyone assume he’d hurt Merlin? It’s Merlin. If anything, he’s more useful as a servant and more honest as a friend since he found out about the magic.”

Balinor is floored by it, and starts treating Arthur a lot better. Arthur gets to ask about pre purge stuff, Balinor tells him a bit about his mother from when her parents visited his when they were kids, then about Ygraine visiting the dragons and how she, Balinor and others in court at the time were friends.

They take him to Ealdor after the dragon is defeated/banished and Arthur looks over at Merlin and realises “oh my god, you summoned the wind.”

And Merlin is like, “yeah? No big deal.”

So Arthur is left wondering why Merlin is downplaying what he thinks is the strongest bit of magic he’s ever done. He comes to the conclusion that Merlin is embarrassed that it was a fluke, he tries to reassure Merlin that he can always practice and learn to do stronger magic like that. Merlin is confused because the wind wasn’t strong magic?

Balinor realises what’s happening and decides he wants nothing to do with it so he stays quiet. (He’s already sensed a lot of power from Merlin, so he knows he’s strong.)

Anyway, they keep going to Ealdor. Merlin still hasn’t caught onto the fact that Arthur thinks he’s a weak sorcerer, Arthur hasn’t caught on to Merlin being strong and just thinks he’s a little bit embarrassed about not being that strong of a sorcerer.

Then they get to Ealdor, everything is great for about two days until it starts down-pouring. Enough rain to flood the village and everyone is worried because Cenred or Lot(?)(I don’t remember when Cenred dies in canon) isn’t going to do anything because he just doesn’t care so their fields will flood and they’ll starve and not be able to afford taxes.

Arthur tries to reassure Merlin that it’s okay, but Merlin just hums. He asks Arthur if they can still lie and say they were on a hunting trip if he does something about the rain, Arthur tells him he shouldn’t push himself or anything, but Merlin says he won’t and Arthur trusts him so it’s fine. Merlin then goes outside and casually stops the rain, clearing the clouds and moving the rainwater into the river.

Arthur is shook.

Then he’s got to realise that Merlin is powerful, but again he never lied about it so he can’t really get mad, so he decides it’s better to just be shocked and carry on as usual until he gets used to the idea that Merlin is stronger than he looks.

There’s also a little bit of a bi panic in there somewhere because Arthur definitely has a thing for competency. We all saw his crushes on Gwen, Merlin, Lancelot, Mithian if she wasn’t just the wrong person for him, I’m pretty sure Percival too. There’s definitely others I haven’t noticed or forgot about. You get the idea though.

He sees Merlin being good at Magic and is suddenly very confused by the feelings he’s too emotionally stunted to recognise. Even if it’s just small things, Merlin is good at something and ‘what the hell happened to the bumbling idiot who forgot to hand him his sword the first day? What? Huh?’

Then after he accepts Merlin is really good at magic, he decides: “great! He can train with me now! :D” and he drags Merlin out of Camelot to spar which is basically just Merlin teaching Arthur how to defend himself against magical attacks. Arthur thinks he’s helping Merlin to protect himself because ‘if all he can do is wind that’s hardly an offensive attack so he needs more help mastering that. And considering no one else knows, it’s my responsibility to make sure he’s safe if he ever needs it.’

Merlin is just glad to be accepted and that Arthur is willing to learn how to protect himself against the numerous magical attacks every week so he lets Arthur think whatever he wants about why they’re sparring.

But yeah, there’s minimal trauma, it’s not a big deal and they get the happily ever after they deserved.

#bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #merthur #merlin bbc #fic writer #fic ideas #headcanon #merlin’s magic revealed #merlin x arthur #i’m bad at tagging #Arthur’s bi panic

[koolades-world]

Can you do headcanons with all the brothers + Simeon of an MC who if you look closely enough you can see traits that Lilith had

Like “Oh hey the shade of [color] for MC’s eyes looks familiar!” *Five minutes later* “wait a damn minute.”

Or MC could have a similar face to her but it’s different enough so you have to stare at their face for a bit until you notice

Even better if MC also slightly looked like Lilith’s lover too

hello! sure thing :)

any lilith prompts are so fun to me!! angst central lol

enjoy <3

Mc that looks like Lilith and her lover

Lucifer

you reminded him of his little sister

he noticed that pretty quickly

but it took him longer to notice the traces of the man that had caused his current circumstances

but, he couldn't be mad at you. it wasn't your fault and he wasn't going to burden you with that thought

Mammon

he had always wondered why the two of you got along so swimmingly so quickly

he almost didn't want to connect the dots

almost.

he tried his best to think of you when he looked into the eyes that the two of you shared, but of course he couldn't help but think of the sister he'd lost

Levi

the first few times he saw you, he didn't put two and two together

but once he did, he was almost upset and could only remembered how sweet and kind lilith was

but, you were just as nice and even if you didn't know it, you helped him through his grief for a second time

despite being a demon, he really was blessed to have you in his life

Satan

upon meeting you, he didn't really intend to get to know you that well

he wasn't planning to entertain this exchange program, but something about you drew him to you

you almost reminded him of himself but he just couldn't place his finger on it

part of him knew that you were both reminiscent of lilith, but he never said anything. he didn't want to reopen his brother's wounds

Asmo

he spends so much time with you and looking at pictures of you so he was bound to notice soon

it finally clicked after a little staring at a picture the two of you had taken that day for his devilgram

of course he's reminded of all the raw emotions he felt right after he learnt of her fate

but now, at least, he's able to connect those features to not one, but two of those he holds close to his heart

Beel

he was the one who noticed first

of course, he'd never forget her face and the two of you got to know each other early into the exchange program

meeting you really helped him, especially since he was lonely in belphie's absence

eventually, he does tell you how you remind him of lilith, but not how your face physically looks like hers. he doesn't want you to think that's all he sees in you because you are a separate person to him

Belphie

when you meet for the first time, something is hauntingly familiar about you

but he just chalked it up to the lighting. after all, seeing lilith in you was impossible

once he learns the truth, he struggles with it himself but eventually comes to terms with it

he can blame himself less now, knowing that lilith was happy and that you're living proof

Simeon

as the only one of the group left to deal with the aftermath, it was constantly on his mind

meeting you in a way helped him relinquish himself of his guilt

lilith had been happy after going to earth

you were happy too, so he'd never even think of bringing it up to you

#obey me #obey me! #obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie #obey me simeon #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus #omswd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

[waddingham]

rebecca wants a pet

this is just a silly little ditty but here <3

Amongst all these things and more, he has learned that she does not do subtlety. Her opinions, thoughts, wants are shared unflinchingly, in a way he admires as someone who tends towards pleasing others over himself. She doesn't demand and criticize but simply shares herself with him – her opinion is always a prompt to hear his, her thoughts are little hands reaching out to know and be known by him, her wants passed along in hopes of him wanting too. And she makes it easy to respond in kind.

There's probably half a million things he's learned about Rebecca Welton in the first year of living with her. Big things and small things – she can destroy a bowl of berries and nuts in a matter of seconds. She has an almost frightening ability to hold her alcohol. She does a tiny bit of yoga everyday and those minutes of solitude are important to her. She loves him voraciously, would do just about anything for anyone in her club, and doesn't believe she will ever uncomplicate her relationship with her mother.

And because she so rarely employs subtlety, he doesn't think it's anything notable at all when she finds a new minor interest. 

"Look at this."

He turns his eyes from the TV to her, stretching an arm along the cushion as she scoots closer along the couch. She angles her phone so he can see – it's a video of a tabby cat with a mouthful of leaves, chirping as it crosses someone's yard. He grins at it, chuckling as it drops them and sits with satisfaction next to its contribution.

"She brings them a little pile of leaves everyday," Rebecca chuckles.

"Look at her go. Doin' her part."

"She's a good girl."

"Lot better than a mouthful of mice," he remarks.

She gives him a horrified look. 

"What?" he chuckles. "You never had a cat?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Have you?"

"There was an outdoor cat when I was growing up that hung around our house. My mom hated it 'cause she's scared to death of mice and loves the birds and he would come around with either one or the other dead in his mouth and leave it. Tryin' to get on her good side, I guess." 

She stares at him. "That's disgusting."

He laughs a little bit, tilting his head. "Yeah. He brought a bird up on the stoop once, still movin', and Mama was so mad, she smacked the back of his head for him to drop it. And he did. And then another little bird came flutterin' out of his mouth and flew off."

She shakes her head, a smile pulling at her mouth. "You're full of shit."

"I am not," he laughs. "Saw it with my own eyes. He was a big fella."

She snorts, looking back down at her phone. She stays close, leaning against his side as she scrolls on. 

It takes him a while to take notice of the running theme. They send all kinds of silly stuff back and forth – videos and pictures and jokes. She sends him screenshots of funny tweets she sees, sometimes about him or the team, sometimes just random things she thinks will amuse him.

But suddenly there's a very large uptick in cat videos. 

×××

She blames Keeley. It's Keeley's fault entirely.

She doesn't know what possessed her friends, if it was the influence of Phoebe or what, but they've adopted a cat – a beautiful, lithe, sleek one that could nearly be taken for a tiny leopard for its coloring. She's a lively little thing, playful and talkative, but she seems to adore Rebecca. When she goes over, she spends the length of her visit circling her feet or pacing her lap on the couch, purring like a fiend, pushing her head into Rebecca's palm.

And, goddammit, Rebecca likes it. She likes watching her prance around, flopping around on the floor for attention, just in general being entertaining and sweet. 

She sees them everywhere now – or at least is really noticing them as she scrolls through social media, seeing Leslie's sons posting videos of their new kitten and Keeley and Roy's little minx chasing her tail and random strangers with unnaturally gorgeous felines. 

She hasn't any idea how Ted feels about getting a pet. And normally she'd just tell him, have all her arguments outlined, or just recklessly show up with one one day, but they have quite literally just settled into living together. She doesn't want him to say yes just because she wants it and then hate it and hate taking care of it – she wants him to want it too. So she's going a little more insidious. Or trying to, sending out feelers by sending him cats and seeing what he says. 

She's not having much luck. He will aww and ooh, but doesn't express any disdain or desire to get one. Which isn't helping her.

"Who's idea was the cat?" she asks Keeley. 

"I wanted a dog and Roy wanted a cat," she says, stroking Camilla's back as she arches on the couch next to her. "But we settled on her 'cause she's so cool and active and spirited, she's like a low maintenance dog."

Keeley gives her a little grin. "You want one, don't you?"

"I do," Rebecca admits, scratching Camilla's neck as she crosses to her. 

"You guys should get one then," Keeley says. "They're so easy."

"I haven't asked Ted what he thinks yet," she says. 

"Well, I don't think he would refuse you anything, first of all," she says, sipping her wine. "And also how cute would he be with kittens all over him?"

"Stop," she says, tilting her head. "Or I'll show up at home with a box of them tomorrow."

Keeley giggles. "I think he would like a cat. Or a dog, but I would guess you–"

"I do not want a dog," Rebecca says. That's a lot more mess, care, and maintenance to jump right into when she's never even had a pet.

She hopes he wouldn't rather have a dog.

She supposes she's going to just have to bring it up outright – he's not catching on and she's already tired of trying to be slick about it.

×××

"Hey," he calls out when he hears the front door open. He gets one in response as she comes in, kicking her shoes off. She's earlier than he expected – she usually lingers late into the evening when she goes over to Keeley and Roy's.

He looks up at her from his sprawl on the couch as she rounds the sofa and immediately plants a knee between him and the cushions, crawling up and laying over him.

"You weren't gone long," he remarks as she settles herself against him, his arm landing on her back, her head on his middle.

"No," she sighs. "I left when Roy got back from his sister's. Keeley seemed…eager to be alone with him."

He chuckles, pushing his hand through her hair. "Well, cheers to them."

She giggles a little bit, rubbing a hand along his side over his t-shirt. She relaxes against him – the loveliest blanket he's ever had the pleasure to be covered with.

"I like their kitty," she remarks and he smiles.

"She's a lil' firecracker," he says. "Cracks me up."

She rolls her head until her chin is planted on his chest to look up at him. Her eyes are a little wide, eyebrows tipped up. 

"Can we get one?"

His smile grows as he tilts his head. He never would've taken her for a pet person.

"Sure," he says. He likes cats.

She almost scoffs, closing her eyes. 

"Of course you're going to be that easy about it."

He chuckles. "Do you want me to argue with you about it?"

"No, but I thought it would take at least a little convincing," she says and he squints at her a little bit. 

"Is that why you keep sending me cat stuff?"

She does scoff then, rolling her eyes. "Yes."

"Why?" he laughs. "What do you think I have against cats?"

"I don't know," she says, laying her head back down in exasperation. 

And since when does she do sneaky?

He chuckles again, smoothing a hand over her hair. 

"We'd have to go get some stuff," he muses. "But I remember Higgins saying he can't go to the pet store on Saturdays 'cause the shelter sets up with a bunch of kitties and he knows he'll go home with one. We could go then. Get the stuff and peek at the cats." 

"I already have everything saved to order online," she mumbles and he laughs.

"You could've just said something, Rebecca."

"I was trying to sniff you out first," she says. "But you gave me nothing."

"I'm sorry," he chuckles. "What kinda kitty do you want?"

"A soft one. Sweet one. Not so crazy as Camilla."

"Alright," he says. "Kitten?"

"I would like a kitten, I think," she says, lifting her head again to look at him. "Start from scratch."

"Okay, then," he smiles. "Sounds like fun."

×××

He didn't know what he expected when she said she had stuff saved, but he really shouldn't be surprised. The things that arrive over the next couple days look like something straight out of a housecat's dreams. A water drinking fountain and several very soft beds, toys, dishes, food that now has a shelf in the fridge, and, good lord, the litter box.

He just laughs when she sets it on the kitchen island. 

"It's automatic," she says, then lifts her hands, defending herself. "Do you want to do it? Because I don't."

He reads the side of the box, still grinning. "It connects to the WiFi?!”

"Oh, stop," she says. "Like I was going to skimp out on this."

"How much did this cost you?" he asks, looking up with a grin. 

"What does that matter?" she says innocently.

"C’mon, tell me," he says. 

"No."

He looks in the shipping box, spying an invoice and snatching it before she can stop him. 

"Give me that–"

"Seven hundred pounds?!" he says, laughing. "Oh my God, Rebecca."

"Stop," she says, swiping the paper from him, smiling at his teasing. 

"You know it's gonna poop in it right?" 

"Exactly. And then neither of us has to touch it."

"Now I feel like we're not adopting a cat but selecting one lucky winner to come live a life of luxury and refinement."

She laughs, wrapping her arms around the box, giving him a haughty look. 

"If you'll excuse me. I have a cat shitter to set up."

He chuckles, watching her go, but following after a few minutes to help her. 

×××

"I was excited, but now I'm just sad," she remarks as they walk through the narrow room. 

"Yeah," he laments. "Now I feel like adopting a nice round dozen or two."

"I think we'll have to start with one," she says, taking another step, giving the next cat its due attention. "Hello. Aren't you lovely?"

They wander through at a slow pace, having been told the kittens they have are at the far end of the room, but she stops at every cage, offering her fingers and compliments to each kitty. 

They don't make it to the far end – he didn't really expect them to. 

"Oh," Rebecca says, coming to a complete stop at a cage. "Oh, look at you."

The cat inside is a pale gray that fades into white at its paws and nose with long fur – not the longest they've seen, but longer than the shorthairs – curled up in the little bed in the corner.

"Oh, he's pretty," Ted says, stepping closer.

"How do you know it's a he?" she remarks, sticking her fingers into the cage, greeting the kitty. "Hello."

It lifts its head, peering at them with lovely gray blue eyes. He sticks his own fingers in, watching the cat take an interest, standing and stretching.

"Oh," Rebecca says sadly, and he turns to her, finding her reading the information card hooked on the cage. 

"Hmm?"

"'My loving owner died and I had nowhere to go'," she reads aloud. "'I'm an affectionate, easygoing kitty that enjoys lots of lap time.'"

She turns to him with a frown, then to the cat as they both feel him rub himself along their fingers. Ted curls his fingers into his soft fur, turning back to Rebecca, finding her watching the kitty with a little heartbreak in her eyes. 

"I like him," she says.

"I thought you wanted a kitten," he reminds her softly.

She doesn't respond, watching the little guy push his head against her knuckles. He steps around her, trading spots to read the rest of the card for himself.

"He's already ten years old," he says, sliding a hand over her back. He doesn't have a problem with it – he wouldn't mind an older cat, but she seemed set on a baby.

"I know," she says slowly, like she's realizing she's pretty much made up her mind. "But I think he deserves a nice retirement."

He smiles at her, watching the kitty sit close enough for Rebecca to brush her finger over the soft fur at his chest, primly adjusting his big white paws in front of him before curling his tail around. He peers at them, then lets out a soft little mow that has both of them chuckling.

"See, you agree, don't you?" she says. "You're a little sweetheart, huh? I didn't even look to see what your name is."

Ted looks, having skimmed over it too, smiling at what he finds. "Arthur."

"Arthur?" Rebecca chuckles. 

"What a name, huh? Who picked up this little guy as a sweet little puffball of a kitten, looked at him on the most exciting day of his life and then gave him the most old man name possible? I'm so sorry, buddy."

"Oh, stop," she says, scratching at Arthur's chin as she reassures him. "I think it's a great name. And I don't think Theodore has any room to talk."

He laughs fully at that, hearing Rebecca chuckle with him. "Well, that's me told," he says, squeezing her side, pulling her attention as she turns. "Should we see if somebody will open his cage up so we can meet him?"

She nods, giving him a bright smile.

×××

Of course they brought old Art home. And it doesn't even take two days before they're both absolutely smitten. 

He's taken to following them around curiously, as well as flopping and rolling against the shag rug in the living room. He'd been absolutely riveted by the dining room, chirping and chattering at the birds through the windows – to their endless amusement – and surveying the backyard as if it were new domain he's claimed. 

He's just adorable. And quickly growing very comfortable here. 

Clearly.

"Well, he didn't take long to settle in, did he?" he remarks.

Rebecca's laid out on the couch with Arthur stretched along her front, his head nestled against her chest, paws stretched toward her chin. He can hear the little guy purring from where he stands at the end of the couch as she strokes his fur from ears to tail, grinning with pure delight.

"And he found the best spot already."

She chuckles, bending her knees to make room for him to sit. Arthur lifts his head, eyes opening at being jostled. 

"Oh, relax," she mutters. "We share with Ted, alright?"

She lays her legs over his thighs as he chuckles. 

"I see you're having no trouble bonding with our new resident," he says as his arms stretches along the back of the sofa.

"Of course not," she almost coos, rubbing at Arthur's cheek. "And don't think I didn't see you carrying him around like a baby yesterday."

"Oh, c'mon. He was lookin' up at me and making the saddest little noise. And you know what, I ain't even gonna pretend I wouldn't die for him already."

She chuckles, holding Arthur's little face as he just purrs and purrs. "You hear that? You have Ted's eternal devotion."

"Christ, he looks more in love with you than I am," he muses.

She laughs at that, glancing up at him. "I'm pretty sure he's very happy to not be in that cage anymore."

Arthur stands at the disturbance, stretching his back before he traverses Rebecca's body to see what Ted has going on. 

"I think you made a good choice, darlin'," he says to Rebecca as Arthur just stands on Ted's thighs, pressing up into his hand as he strokes him. 

"I love him," she mutters.

He smiles as Arthur throws himself against Ted's abdomen, rolling in his lap.

"Me too."

×××

When she steps into the bedroom, she just has to grin.

Ted's lounging on the bed, scrolling his phone with Arthur cradled in his arm against his chest, dead asleep.

It's almost hilarious to think about now – that she was uncertain if he'd enjoy having a cat. More than half the times she comes upon him in the house, he's either holding or talking to Arthur. He carries him around like a little prince and he just purrs like a madman.

Maybe they didn't end up with a box of kittens, but it's still unbelievably cute. And she hates to disturb it, but, right now, she's going to.

She crawls up onto the bed, leaning on an elbow next to him.

"What's going on here?" she asks, scratching the top of Arthur's head, startling him if his little mrrp is anything to go by.

"He needed snuggled apparently," Ted says as he drops his phone next to him. "And I think I make a pretty good bed if I do say so myself."

"I can confirm," she nods. "But he might have to go."

Ted frowns at her, stroking Arthur's side almost protectively. "He's fine here." 

"Okay, but what if I'm trying to have sex with you?" she asks, watching Ted's brows lift again. 

"Ah, well, I think you're a little late," he says, gesturing to the cat. "I think I'm otherwise engaged for the evening."

She gives him a flat look, getting a little grin back. 

"Arthur, buddy, I think you're in danger," he whispers to the cat, who has no reaction whatsoever. Ted shifts him to get him up and he just lifts his head and glares at him, dead weight against his chest.

"Oh, c'mon man, don't do this to me," Ted chuckles as Rebecca pantomimes looking at a watch. "Look at her. Be a little wingman here, huh?"

He's unenthused as Ted lifts him up and leans to put him on the floor. 

"There," he says, immediately rolling into her until she's on her back, grinning up at him. 

"I'm all yours," he mutters against her neck, his hands immediately bunching her shirt to get to her skin. "Though you might have to work out a schedule with the little man."

She snickers, pulling him down hard against her with a leg, sliding her hands against his back as she catches his lips with hers. She hums as he grinds against her, the little fever in her core telling her this probably isn't going to be especially leisurely–

They both freeze at the sound of the sheets rustling. They look towards the end of the bed, where Arthur's jumped back up, ears pinned back, feet braced against the duvet. Before either of them can say anything, he dives forward, chasing nothing, then does a fast loop before freezing again. 

She can't help but snort when he looks back at them, eyes wild before he does another circle, then gets distracted with licking his leg.

"What is he doing?" Ted chuckles, then startles when Arthur spins and leaps at his toes.

"Oh, Jesus, man!"

She barks out a laugh as he jerks his foot away and she's in stitches as Arthur chases after it before finally doing another loop, leaping off the bed and sprinting out the door. 

"What the hell–" Ted laughs, turning back to her as she catches her breath, pulling him against her again.

"He's not the forgiving kind apparently."

"Who wanted a cat again?" he asks, his grinning mouth falling to her jaw.

"I did," she laughs. "And it was so worth it."

#anon #tl drabbles #i wrote this a hundred years ago thinking i would add to it but i havent and i wont so be free! #also rereading this simultaneously made me sad and feel better about jasper :')

[moonyasnow]

Hi, there! :D

I saw that request are open so I have a VERY angst request.

Type: Headcanons (Romantic and a lot of angst)

Reader: Fem or neutral (I leave it to your liking)

Scenary: How about a prefect who loves sing and has a beautiful voice but due to a magical accident (indirectly being said boy's fault) them/she ends up losing her/they voice forever. The reader tries to appear normal but deep down she/them is depressed by the situation even if she/them will never hate said boy

with Deuce, Ace, Sebek and Jack (or other characters you want)

If my request does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure, thank you. I'm loving your TWST fics and as someone who has a lot of ideas for angst fuel (I'll probably make some angsty requests here) >:D (Spoiler I have one in mind with Ortho) (and maybe I'll make fan arts) see ya :D

Sudden Silence.

PROMPT : Their singer S/O loses their voice due in part to them

CONTENT : pre-established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, Reader loses their voice, lots of guilt and shame, self-esteem issues too bc why not, hopeful endings at least!

CHARACTERS : Ace, Deuce, Jack, Sebek

- { Crash— B O O M ! } -

An explosion resounded from the cauldron next to where you and Grim worked— the one you had seen your boyfriend and his lab-partner standing over.

Someone called your name, told you to watch out. But it was too late. The greyish-canary-yellow smoke and liquid of whatever potion they had failed to make splattered on your skin and clogged your airways from your nose and open mouth...

Your voice was never the same after that.

Ace

Ace Trappola was good at lying. Exceptionally good at lying, even. So you'd witnessed firsthand several times, including the first time you met. And those used to dealing in falsehoods will always be the most adept at spotting them in others.

…Yeah you really weren't fooling him.

You had been singing your entire life. It wasn't something you'd ever really thought much about; it was just something you did. When you were young people had said that you had music in your blood— and you wholeheartedly agreed. Whenever a song you knew came on the radio you HAD to sing it, no matter what anyone else in the car thought. You ALWAYS volunteered for karaoke whenever it was an option. Were you a bit of a diva? Maybe just a little bit— but you couldn't help it! You just loved music and singing too much to ever keep it to yourself.

Ace often teased you about your need to be in the spotlight when you sang, loving how huffy you got and how you pouted, or he said that your choice of song was lame— but he never stopped you. He did actually like it, because you singing meant you were happy, after all. But Ace's gotta Ace, and the one and only Ace Trappola couldn't just let people think he was some mushy sap who loved the sound of his lover's voice, now could he?

But still, he'd often jokingly make fun of you, daring you to sing the most embarrassing song you could think of from your homeworld, or just starting a Twisted Wonderland song whose lyrics he knew would make you red in the face from embarrassment just to watch you sing to the very last note despite it. He loved that stubborn side of yours, partly because of how much fun it was to tease you with it. You were…kinda cute when you pouted. …Ok, really cute.

The accident left you with a sore throat for weeks. Your speaking voice returned to normal, but your singing voice…just didn't. You never sang anymore. Didn't even try. He felt a little…scared, to ask you about it.

He missed hearing you sing. Not because of your singing itself, but because it'd become to him the theme music of your happiness. Not having an easy way to know if you were happy or not bothered him more than he thought it would. But what bothered him most was that you didn't even get mad at him! Sure, he was used to covering up his own sadness with a bad joke when he didn't want anyone to know he was down, but seeing you try to do the same just…just no. It felt all kinds of wrong!

You lost your voice because he decided it'd be more fun to goof off and goad his lab-partner on than pay attention to the potion they were supposed to be making, even after Crewel said to be extra cautious making that particular potion. And you didn't even yell at him. Not even a little bit! Not even a pout, or refusing to speak to him in particular for a week or more. That's what he thought he kinda deserved for what happened. That's what he wished you'd do!

Anything was better than…than this!

But he knew you, and he knew calling more attention to it would probably just make you feel even worse. So, like the sleight-of-hand master he was(not really but let him dream won't you?) he drew your attention away from it. He practically dragged you away from moping alone in your room to force you to watch him at Basketball practice, and during the dreaded music lessons he even willingly embarrassed himself by playing the violin so badly it made you burst out laughing and making fun of him when he so much as tried to screech out a single note. Then he dished it out twice as bad when it was your turn to fail at it.

You punched his shoulder. Hard. And pouted at him like you always did. It felt…good, to have something normal.

But he still couldn't shake those feelings of guilt whenever he heard you start to tap along to the rhythm of a song you had playing in your head. It just reminded him every time if the way you used to hum the melodies. He felt like such an ass every time. You'd have to talk about it some day...but for now things would stay in this forced equilibrium.

Until you felt ready.

And until that day, whenever it would be, he'd keep distracting you at all hours of the day, taking your thoughts away from it. You could say it was his way of trying to make it up to you.

…Even though he knew he'd taken too much from you for the guilt to ever really leave him.

But this wasn't about him.

Deuce

Deuce Spade, the former delinquent, aspiring honor student and— despite his best efforts— someone who acted without thinking, knew what it was like to lose your way. It could be said his entire adolescence had been a long period of him continuously losing his way. So much that it, in a sense, became his way? But not a good way. It all caught up with him and smacked him in the face when he'd heard how sad it made his mom, how much it made her worry and even blame herself.

When he got into Night Raven College, he couldn't believe his luck. It was, to him, a second chance. A place he could go where no one knew of him or his past mistakes, where he could create a new identity for himself and become someone better. That was also where he met you. And also developed a big crush on you. You seemed his polar opposite: calm, thoughtful, polite and reserved. A lot of things he wished he was more of. Yet you didn't judge him at all for that delinquent side of him that seemed to rear its ugly head whenever he got too worked up. You even appreciated it when it compelled him to try to protect you and his friends. It made him feel like that was something he really could learn to leave in the past one day…or maybe even learn to repurpose for better things. He gushed about you to his mom over the phone so much that she figured out his feelings for you faster than he himself did. And when he finally did, she was also the one to encourage him to try asking you out.

…But you also ended up inadvertently reminding him of what was so troublesome about it, why he wanted to change it in the first place.

You had always been praised for your singing voice. To the point it was your biggest point of pride— something you took good care of and refined to the exception of almost everything else in your life. Back home your shelves were lined with awards from song competitions and walls with posters for all the different concerts you'd sung in, musicals you'd participated in. 'You have a bright future with music' a teacher had once told you. Those words had engraved themselves into your heart. Not having any idea what the future might hold and how you'd get a job felt less scary when you knew you had your voice to rely on. Being transported to a new world, forced to make a new life from scratch, was difficult. But at least your voice meant you had some kind of potential future career. You could ask Vil to introduce you to someone in the industry, or work for Azul at his lounge.

But you lost it. Because of him. Because he had gotten worked up over a comment Ace made and, as Deuce went to grab his collar, had accidentally knocked over something on the table next to their cauldron, causing it to break against the edge and spill way more than the recipe required into the mixture. The

It wasn't that your singing voice had become gravelly. No. It had disappeared completely. When you opened your mouth to sing, your vocal chords moved, but pure silence followed. Not even your breath was heard.

When your singing voice 'died', all your future plans, ambitions, confidence and sense of self died with it. You had never realized before just how much your voice was a part of your identity— how large of a part of your vision of 'you' that it made up. But now, having realized that the thing which, in your mind, made you 'you' was just...gone...

You didn't know how to handle it.

You became quiet. Barely even spoke. Retreated into yourself. It made him so, so, incredibly worried. He knew it was his fault. That you didn't shake your head when he said as much, a stabbing pain to his gut, only confirmed it for him. He blamed himself. How could he not? In his mind, if only he hadn't taken Ace's words— whom he knew was always just joking and teasing, trying to get a rise out of him— so seriously and entered 'delinquent mode' again and knocked that vial over, none of this would have happened. He didn't know what to do. He wanted to call his mom for advice, like always…but this time he just couldn't. It was too personal. So he waited. He didn't know what else to do but just wait. He wanted to speak to you, too…but he didn't know what to say. So he joined you in your silence, spending as much time next to you as he could, texting rather than talking, even when you were seated right next to each other.

But the worst part was when he'd come to Ramshackle and hear you, who didn't know he was there, clear your throat, obviously to try to sing. Only to be met with silence. Even the creaking of the old wood or the tweeting of nearby birds faded to nothing when you tried. All he could think in those moments was of how badly he'd screwed up.

…Weeks later, you finally spoke again.

"It's...not coming back, is it?" He could tell it was rhetorical. He felt tears mist his eyes and the same guilt stab his heart. He tried to speak. But before he could you turned to him, face for once no longer hidden behind your hair, your eyes already beginning to overflow with tears.

'Oh' he realized. You weren't upset at him. Or at least, not anymore. He didn't know what he could ever do to make up for what happened. But maybe looking at it that way— like something he did wrong— was just making it worse. The more important thing was him being there for you, not beating himself up over something that already happened, that he couldn't change.

Neither of you said anything else; he hugged you close, and you buried your face in his shoulder and you both just cried. His crying was quiet. Yours was wailing, loud enough all of Ramshackle must have heard. But you needed it. To let out your voice in anguish; to use it one last time.

His life trajectory had changed out of guilt. Yours due to something out of your hands. Yet the result remained the same: two people who lost their way, in one way or another, who now had to pick up the pieces and grow past it. When you came back out of your self-imposed, mute isolation, you felt like a different person, the world seemed a different color. It was...scary. Like the sky and horizon had collapsed and revealed a world outside of a box you'd lived in. A world vanished to reveal another. But when you trembled, Deuce was there to take your hand, even though his was trembling just as much. It made the task seem less insurmountable.

Because now you were growing up together.

Jack

Jack Howl knew devotion to an activity well; he had a reason for his training of his body, that which he devoted himself to. And it was no different for you.

You had always filtered your life through music. Music had always been there for you; a sound to use to plug up the thoughts you didn't want to deal with, thoughts that whispered to you that bad things were going to happen. When you couldn't find the words to describe your feelings, you had always been able to find a song that got those same feelings through, and got used to expressing your thoughts through song rather than speech. You had never been very good at speaking. Your vocal chords always seemed to seize up when you even thought of trying. Your life happened entire confined within your head. But singing, you became someone else. Someone with the confidence to speak into being the things within you which had previously been confined to that space.

You didn't merely partake in the act of singing; you were song. From the tips of your lashes to your very core of your bones. While you didn't often sing in front of others, more due to feeling too awkward to start singing out of nowhere for seemingly no reason, Ramshackle was never silent so long as you were there. A second that music was not flowing either through your ears or from your lips was a second not spent living.

He had only ever seen you at your quiet moments, never even having heard your voice before. So he was shocked to see you alone up on stage at a small talent show some of the students had set up. He'd attended because Epel had been forced by Vil to take part. He was surprised, then, when you came onto the stage and began to sing with an incredible passion he never would've imagined someone as shy as you would have.

It…made his heart beat a little louder, seeing you so confidence for once, so clearly in your element. It made him start to look at you in a way he hadn't before, his tail wagging more than usual whenever he saw you. He told you once that you had the talent to make singing your profession one day, and he genuinely believed that.

Then came the accident.

You weren't even together yet when the accident happened. But as one of your closest friends, he noticed the shift in you instantly. Whenever he came to visit Ramshackle, it was dead quiet. You hadn't even put on any music in the background; his hearing was good enough that his ears would've picked up it if you did.

When the Song and Dance Competition, SDC, came to Night Raven College, his chest never stopped hurting through the whole multiple-day event. He felt so restless...he wanted to run to where you were, to comfort you somehow, and he hated that he was too busy helping to build stages and move heavy equipment or shop stands all day to be able to. His ears were laid flat against his head all day, and all through the event. He couldn't even focus on any of the performances.

After it was over, he rushed to Epel to ask where you were, only to find out you'd left as soon as you cast your vote. When he came in through the door and entered the living room where you sat on the creaking couch, you smiled and waved at him the same way you always did.

He knew how much your singing meant to you. There was no way you'd get over it that quickly, right? He knew he couldn't if he somehow became unable to train, or take care of his cacti. And when he looked closer, he saw that your brows were slightly furrowed, eyes more pink than usual at the corners. It broke his heart to think of you crying all on your own. It hurt even more to know it was because of him. But he didn't know what to do to fix it. So he went with his gut, and came closer to hug you.

…And like an idiot, he blurted out how much he liked you. He wanted to kick himself. But you signed that you liked him too, thankfully.

Then Port Fest came around. He felt guilty for you needing to hear all the music in the air and not being able to participate since you couldn't play an instrument. But he didn't want to treat you like glass; he knew you were stronger than that. So he felt caught in a state of limbo, not knowing what to do.

But...something happened which neither of you had expected.

You were put on Saxophone along with Floyd, and while you seemed apprehensive at first, when you started playing, you eventually had a blast!

Later on you ended up playing a short solo of what you'd learned for him; a 'private concert', you'd signed to him. And for a moment, he recognized that fire light up within you again. He laughed.

Not even losing your voice would stop you from pursuing music.

Sebek

Sebek Ziegvolt knew what it was like to feel inadequate, for his efforts to be called 'too much'. He once heard it said that he 'puts in a lot of effort to accomplish barely anything at all'. Yet all it did was push him to push himself even more. For how could he just let such comments stand, debasing his reputation as a knight of Malleus Draconia? It could not stand! Hence why he continued to push himself harder and harder in all he did.

It was that same mantra that lead to the accident. He and Ace had been partnered for Alchemy that day, as Professor Crewel had wished to keep Ace Trappola away from his habitual other half, Deuce Spade. As such, he was paired with Sebek for this class of Freshman Alchemy. In retrospect, Sebek would curse this decision for years to come…

Ace, not wanting to do the work himself, had goaded Sebek into doing his share of the work as well in brewing the voice-changing potion designated as that class' assignment. The attack on his pride left him trying to overcompensate and complete the assignment in half the usual time, to prove himself far more skilled at potion-making than a mere, lazy human!

But then the potion exploded. And you were caught in the crossfire.

While he hadn't admitted it, your soft singing voice had always soothed him— almost like a lullaby. Anyone who payed enough attention would have noticed his voice was always a few decibels quieter after he heard you sing. And you sang often, repeating the lyrics to some Earth song on your way to class by his side, even humming quietly to yourself as you worked. It was the gentle, ambient noise that your presence by his side brought. A sound he'd found himself growing enamoured with.

Your voice enthralled him, capturing his attention fully. Yet it was not purely due to your voice. It was the look of serenity on your face. The way the world around you seemed to stop and hold its breath each time you sang. Your voice was breathtaking, yes, but the pure passion, the sheer joy and bliss your voice carried with each note, no matter the tone or subject material of the song, that truly enraptured him.

Despite his duties, and claiming he only did so on request of Lilia for him to 'get cultured', he never missed any of your shows at the Mostro Lounge. He said it almost seemed disrespectful for the Lounge's business to go up so much whenever you sang on its stage, not realizing the feelings of bitterness in his chest were not at you being disrespected, but jealousy at so many others recognizing your charm. Deep within him— past the already buried desire to want to be by your side, not as a friend, but a lover— he doubted that you would ever look upon him as he did you: with pure adoration.

Yet he was proved wrong. After a show, he had shown up with a small bouquet of flowers— hand-picked, he had made sure to emphasize— to congratulate you for a good performance. He recalls telling you that the performance was…lovely…s-so much so that— while he of course would never speak on his Lord's behalf!— he believed his Young Master might even enjoy it, were he to attend one of your concerts. His face had become redder by the second of him speaking, too caught up in his rambling speech to notice you coming close, until you had cupped his cheeks and silenced him with a kiss. He'd dropped the flowers on the floor.

So then…

When the accident, a failure of his own creation, had robbed you of that joy of yours, he felt so incredibly guilty, and ashamed! You, his beloved, had lost the one thing you loved so much, all due to his mistake. The sheer weight of that guilt, of having cost you your greatest passion in life, threatened to drag him under.

So instead of stewing in those feelings, he acted.

He tried to search through the library top to bottom, asked both Lilia and Crewel for advice on how he might possibly reverse the effects. He even got desperate enough to seed aid from his Young Master. He trembled as he did— what right did he, a mere knight…no, not even a proper knight yet, have to beg a boon from his Lord Malleus? But since it was for you, to restore that smile to your face once more, he felt compelled to.

He cried as he made his request for aid in his search of a cure, overwhelmed with his conflicting interests of wishing to help his beloved and of wishing not to burden his Lord. His cheeks reddened in shame, thick tears rolling over his cheeks, when Malleus agreed to try to help you.

You tried to tell him that him going so far out of his way to find a cure to your predicament wasn't necessary, but no matter how you explained that there are worse things, he refused to budge. It was a matter of pride now, too. He would prove to you that he had the ability to right this wrong; that he was a worthy partner to you, that he could restore to you the thing you lost. Not out of a desire for praise or gratitude this time, but because he knew he alone had to take responsibility for the accident.

The way you shone when you sang, the pure bliss the act seemed to spark in you…he couldn't live with himself if it meant he'd taken that away from you forever.

And you knew how he felt. You knew how important it was to him to be able to be of help to you in what he, not incorrectly, considered your time of need. Losing your voice was…indescribably painful. As though a flame in your soul had been snuffed out like a candle in the wind. Yet you had tried to act as though it didn't truly bother you as much as it did. You still had other avenues of music you could pursue, after all, such as learning to play an instrument…

Yet, though you doubted it was that he saw through that ruse of yours rather than that he felt compelled to right what he saw as a wrong he had committed, the dedication to restore your singing voice…it made you able to cling onto a shred of hope that you might see it returned one day. It reminded you once more of why you fell for him in the first place.

But above all else…he just longed to see the smile you always wore when singing, the smile that without fail made his heart skip a beat, grace your face once more.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Writing this got me genuinely emotional— my singing is actually one of the things I'm the most proud of in myself and I love singing so much— imagining this scenario happening to myself made me so sad ; ; But in a good way!

Some didn't turn out as angsty as the prompt described: I can do angst just fine, but if there's not a happy ending, or at least the potential of things becoming better in the future, I just start crying too much

Also didn't keep the 'tries to appear normal' part for all of them since it seems like I'm just incapable of writing the exact same Reader for every single character for a scenario haha ;^^ I think more 'what would be the most interesting way to spin this scenario and how does the Reader need to react to make it so' And I decided to go with a gender neutral Reader just to make it more inclusive to everyone

Sorry for Jack's part being a bit rushed in places— I'm kinda worn out from the school year haha My perfectionism keeps telling me it's not good enough for my standards because I know I could do better if I just had more energy, but that just how it be sometimes; better I learn to take the L than never finish this, at least!

But I really hope you like what I did with the prompt!

Also a head's up that, since June is gonna be really busy for me, I'm probably not gonna be able to write much at all until at least the start of July; hence why I've closed writing requests until then.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #ace trappola #ace twst #ace twisted wonderland #ace trapolla x reader #deuce spade #deuce twst #twisted wonderland deuce #deuce x reader #jack howl #twst jack #jack howl x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst sebek #twisted wonderland sebek #sebek x reader #Moony's Writing

[factual-fantasy]

17 asks!! Thank you!! :}} 🦙

@dunkudunk

XD Their names are Midori and Anastasia! :DD I originally had Midori holding Anastasia in this post because everyone else was significantly taller than her but I still wanted her to be included in the comic XDD

That interaction though turned into them having a close bond in my stories. Anastasia is always around Midori, usually being carried by him. There could be a lot of reasons why..

Anastasia IS a shiny. So I can imagine people have tried to capture her on sight in the past. I mean.. that's exactly what I did! XDD

Since Meowscarada has the highest speed stat out of the whole team.. I can imagine that he carries Anastasia around to protect her. If someone or something shows up and tries to harm or capture her? Midori will be able to flee from the attacker faster than anyone.

With that in mind, there's a lot more reasons why Midori carrying her would be beneficial. Ana has a hard time keeping up with the group cuz she's so little! Trying to walk with them would also tire her out too-

As for their separate personalities.. I pictured Midori being rather introverted and quiet. Polite, a bit shy.. but a very good friend. He's a skilled fighter though he would rather not resort to violence if he can help it-

I thought of Ana having a playful personality. Theatric, loves to joke, loves to sing. She can be sarcastic and grumpy at times but its rare. She's usually happy and chatting away with one of het teammates :}}

(Link in ask) (In response to this post)

Aww.. what a beautiful song.. 🥺🥺 I added it to my favorites and I gotta check out other songs by her 😭

@dubb0-g0ldfe11 (In relation to this post)

XDD That's not nearly as embarrassing as BINGUS XDDD

@fandomcenteral

Thank you! And don't you worry, I've been trying to try my best to take care of myself <:} 👍

And oof, I'm sorry to hear about your carpel tunnel :(( I hope you feel better soon! <:(((

(Image from this post)

YEEEEAAAHHH LOW RES CREATURES LES GOOOOO!!!

@candyglumboy

I drew pixelated Grimace and Sylvester in this post at least! XDD

@tallchest13-blog (Referencing this post)

That makes 3 of us! XDD

XDDD Thank you so much!! I'm glad you like them!! :}}}

THATS THE ONE!! 👆👆👆

@couchwow

Welcome back and happy late birthday! :DD

AND AYYO?? THOSE ARE AWESOME!! :DDD

Dang, what a lucky guy XDD

@genshiicomms

Hey, in my defense he looks 10x more friendly with white eyes! XDD

And dannggg, G money got the drip frfr-

@stupidspacepowl

THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD And aww!! What a cute Umbreon!! :}}}

@kirozil

That's a good question.. I believe I've answered this question before but I cant remember what the answer was.. <:0

I at least have this height chart of everyone as glamrocks..? <:DD

@kermit-ydafrog

Hello! :DDD

@scally-wiggles716

I don't wanna <:(((( He's scary looking-

Its his own fault for coming to my door at 3AM lookin like that!! >:0

#my response #fnaf security breach #pokemon scarlet and violet #kricketot #meowscarada

[mothwingwritings]

Animal Magnetism

F!Reader X Yujiro Hanma (Omegaverse AU)

Well folks, here is my first ever attempt at a true Omegaverse fic. I wanted to start out with something little to get a feel for it, but since I don’t know how to chill it ended up being a bit longer than anticipated. ^^; I’m still getting the hang of it all, but I hope you enjoy it regardless! Thank you so much for reading!!!

Also, I have a rather busy end of May-June coming up, so I’m not sure how much I will be able to write and update during that time. I apologize in advance. That being said, I wrote this pretty fast and edited it even faster so that I could get it out before I get swamped, so I apologize if it reads a bit rushed. (シ_ _)シ

THIS FIC IS NSFW, SO 18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

WARNINGS: Noncon/dubcon, yandere vibes, ABO/Omegaverse AU (reader is the omega ofc), death, strangulation, brief mentions of stalking, reader is degraded and treated like an object by Yujiro Hanma. You know how it is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"

You considered yourself lucky to have found the love of your life.

That wasn’t always the case for Omegas. Since your childhood, you’d heard countless horror stories from your parents and friends, tragedies and cautionary tales of the horrors Omega’s faced when looking for a mate. Many of your kind faced dismal futures as breeding factories or were forgotten and neglected by their partners whenever they weren’t in heat. It was a lonely, painful, and unfulfilling existence, but a sad reality that many Omega’s endured nonetheless.

Because of this your parents sheltered you, doing their best to keep you from the cruel power imbalance of the outside world. Your father made sure he was the only alpha allowed near you on the property, the rest of your friends and acquaintances consisting of either other Omega’s or Beta’s. Not that you much minded, after all the negativity you heard surrounding Alpha’s you figured this was for the best. You weren’t missing out on anything, and as long as you took your suppressors accordingly, you were sure you could live out the rest of your life just fine without Alpha influence and still feel completely fulfilled.

That was to say, until a certain bodyguard was hired as the family escort, specifically YOUR escort. You had heard he was an Alpha and were quite shocked that your father would allow such a person so close to you, especially with all his previous warnings. But as time passed and your curiosity grew, you would eventually introduce yourself to the man of your own accord, excited and nervous to see what manner of individual he truly was. At the time, you would have never ended up guessing that one meeting would end up turning your entire world on its head, bringing more joy to your life than you could have ever imagined.

You were smitten the moment your hands joined in the initial shake, taken in by his easy smile and sparkling eyes. He had respectfully kept his distance from you at your father’s request, but you could tell he was elated to finally speak with you, a small blush gracing his cheeks as soon as you said ‘hello’. He was a kindly man, mild mannered and soft spoken, but strong where it mattered and protective to a fault. Were it not for the unmistakable scent that exuded from him, you wouldn’t guess he was an Alpha at all, or at least he certainly didn’t fit the description of most of the Alpha’s your father warned you about-all full of machismo and brutality, ready at a moment’s notice to tear you apart to satisfy their own base urges.

This man was the opposite of that, and when you fell for him, you fell hard.

Years past in a whirlwind, from the initial awkward first dates, to buying your own place together, to his heartfelt proposal to you. Through it all he always remained respectful, giving you all the space and time you needed to adjust to your life with him, never pushing his boundaries or showing any untoward aggression or advances.  Because of this, even after spending years together, you were able to remain pure, saving yourself for the day the two of you would join as one, marking each other to truly solidify your union.

And so time marched on, moving so fast that on more than one occasion you wished you could stop the clock altogether, just to steal a few more moments with him.

But now, you would never enjoy his company ever again.

His corpse had been tossed aside, discarded several feet from where you lay. It was so bloodied and broken you could barely recognize it as human, let alone as someone you once loved. Your chest rose and fell with erratic breaths punctuated by fear, the desire welling inside of you momentarily quelled by this sudden nightmare.

Minutes ago he was atop you, peeling the clothing from your aching, hot body. Moving painfully slow, he took his time enjoying your first heat with him, no longer constrained by the suppressors you had taken your whole life. You were scared of the process, worried about losing control of yourself and becoming mindless, driven by only your base needs. Not to mention the pain it would entail, the endless torture of emptiness, and the desperation you would experience relying solely on him for release from your torment.

But he had been patient and understanding through the whole process, explaining how it would all go down and how he would help you through it, alleviating any rogue fears that still remained. He even went so far as to help you prepare your nest, purchasing you any and everything you may need to make it comforting and inviting for when the time finally arrived. Meticulously helping you arrange everything while gushing about how excited he was, how lucky he felt having you as his mate, the one he would be eternally bonded too. He seemed more into the prep work than even you did.

Now, the nest that was to be used to consummate your love was stained in crimson, his blood splashing across it in vibrant streaks the moment he was knocked off you, flung across the room like a rag doll. No matter how badly you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the lifeless body that used to be your beloved. Everything that had made him shine had been stolen in the blink of an eye, leaving only a husk remaining.

Above him stood his murderer, Yujiro Hanma, looming with a bestial sort of feral energy as he stared at the carcass by his feet.  Before this moment, you had never interacted with the man they called ‘The Ogre’, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know all about him. It was hard not to-the strongest man in the world was a celebrity in his own right, renowned the world over for his ferocity and ruthless nature. He had started and ended wars by simply existing, going wherever he pleased and doing whatever he wanted because there was no one who could stop him. He ruled countries from the shadows, amassed wealth and respect from the most influential men in the world. Truly, he was not a person to be reckoned with.

All that aside, you knew him best as the man your father despised the most. A once respected comrade from your father’s military days, you were aware that Yujiro had done something unspeakable to your father in the past, therefore disgracing him from your entire family. Your father had always been an amicable and fair man, someone that you couldn’t imagine having any enemies (even with his military background), let alone ones that used to be dear friends. And while the mystery of what Yujiro may have done to your father to receive this treatment gnawed incessantly at your brain, you kept your questions to yourself, not wanting to open any old wounds that may hurt him in the process.

Now you wished you had pressed the issue more, maybe then you would have a clue as to why this mythical family villain had abruptly entered the scene, irrevocably changing your life in the process.

The slaughter happened so quickly that Yujiro didn’t even break a sweat. Not that he would have anyway-the differences in ability were clear as day, you didn’t need any fighting prowess to realize that. Your mate never stood a chance.

The ogre’s fiery hair danced wildly around his head like a halo as he turned his attention your way, his figure both terrifying and awe inspiring as he took his time stalking towards your vulnerable form. There was no need for him to rush- the power of his presence alone was enough to root you in place.

Splayed out in your nest, you were completely exposed. Your nude chest heaving as a thin layer of sweat coated you, anxiety and confusion mingling with the raging heat your body was going through. Even after watching the execution of your mate before your very eyes, your body was still yearning, causing a horrible, all-encompassing burning that scalded you from the inside out. It made you desperate for release as your mate was in the process of marking you, taking his time exploring the body of the woman with whom he was destined to spend the rest of his life with before carrying out the duty.

And while his drawn out advance was driving you to the point of madness, amplifying the throbbing ache in your core with each teasing touch of his hands and sensual kiss of his lips, you knew the sluggish pace was for your benefit-to prepare you properly. It was your first time, the start of your forever with him. He wanted to make it special, for your pleasure to be immeasurable when he finally entered you, making you feel so good that when he bit down to mark you as his, the pain would be nothing in comparison, if felt at all. You had a life time of love ahead of you, but that was no excuse for him to give in to his desire and rush your first union.

But he was gone now, and his kindness had left you feverish and wanting-so desperately wanting- release. Craving your alpha, needing him so badly you could barely stand it, you writhed pathetically on the ground, whimpering in agony at the absence of fulfillment. Unable to control yourself, your hand traveled to your privates, tears flooding your eyes when stuffing your fingers deep inside of yourself only seemed to hurt you more. It was hollow and empty, not what you needed, not what you craved.

Were you in your normal mindset, revulsion would have washed over you at your actions-the love of your life had just been slain and here you were making a sorry attempt at masturbation while his body lay decomposing beside you. What kind of woman does that? How could you live with yourself after this? How could you tell yourself you truly love him, when now that he’s gone the only feeling your addled brain can conjure is disappointment over the fact that you won’t get the fucking you have become so desperate for?

How had you become so disgusting? You lightly shook your head, trying to dispel the thoughts of self-loathing. Perhaps the blame did not lie fully on your shoulders, but to another culprit, one who was stalking his way closer and closer to you with each passing moment, hunting you as a wolf does livestock.

In any other scenario, this heart-rending moment would have been enough to crack the shell of haze your heat had left you in, no matter how worked up you had become. But the man who was now standing above you, Yujiro Hanma, was dangerous in ways you hadn’t even begun to fathom. His smell of his musk was so overbearing you nearly choked on it, the lust it sent coursing through your body turning you into something unrecognizable. You honed in on Yujiros scent long before his arrival, at first mistaking it for your own mate’s scent that had been amplified by your combined heats. And while it disgusted you to admit it, this new, intoxicating scent excited you far more than your own lover’s ever had, turning your mind to mush the longer you inhaled its aroma.

Yujiro’s cruel eyes bore down upon you, a look of mild amusement displayed on his face as he took in your weakened state. The smirk he wore as he killed your lover began to grow, his lips spreading into a full on smile, baring his teeth in a look that could only be considered as malicious.

“Well what do we have here,” he leered, the mere sound of his husky voice enough to make you moan, “Feeling a bit neglected, are we?”

He bent down on his knee, kneeling beside you as his eyes flicked across your body. After a brief once over, his large hand reached out towards your head, thick fingers knotting themselves into a fist as they gripped your hair. Roughly he yanked you up, dangling you mere inches from his face as he continued to stare at you with his horrible, ravenous eyes.

You scrambled to get your bearings, perching yourself on your knees to help alleviate the pressure on your scalp. Positioned so closely to him, his pheromones became even more intense, slick starting to seep from inside you from the proximity alone. Bright red bloomed across your body, a mixture of extreme arousal and embarrassment, as you wriggled in his hold.

Yujiro scoffed, “Look at you, I haven’t even touched you and you’re already leaking,” He swiped his fingers briskly against your weeping pussy, making you cry out as he gathered the evidence of your intoxication on his hand. Holding the glistening fingers up to your face, his smile returned as he goaded you.  “Bet your little boyfriend lacked the power to make that happen, didn’t he?”

Any anger that may have welled inside you over the slight against your beloved was instantly quelled, eaten by the tumultuous feeling of frustration the situation ensnared you in. All you could do was stare at Yujiro with pleading eyes, any words you attempted to speak dying out the moment you tried to voice them, becoming little more than whiny, petulant mewlings. Rubbing your thighs together in an attempt to create friction, you prayed he would show an ounce of mercy and grant you release soon, fretting over how much longer your body could handle waiting.

Yujiro sighed, chuckling softly under his breath, “Your father is a damned fool, you know that? I told that stubborn bastard that his cute little Omega daughter was meant to be mine, knew it the moment I saw you. I warned him that he could try and pair you off with some other lesser Alpha, but it would be a waste of time. You were fated to be mine- made to take my cock. Trying to make you anything other than my bitch was both asinine and disgraceful.”

He shot you another wicked smile, “Idiots like him may not realize what a fucking honor it is to be my cumdump, but surely you do, right sweetheart?”

You squeaked as he tugged you closer, his breath fanning your face while he stared down his nose at you, “Or maybe you don’t, given the situation I found you in. Looks like my ravenous little whore just couldn’t contain herself, could she?”

His lips curled into a snarl, his booming voice reverberating through your bones as he continued to address your misdemeanor. “Nesting with some weak piece of shit like that, have you no pride in yourself? I’m embarrassed you even gave him the time of day, let alone bared yourself to him. Who do you think you are, trying to fuck basic trash when you belong to me?”

Without giving you a chance to respond, he released his grip on your hair, shoving you roughly to the ground in the process. Hearing him move behind you, you attempted to push your feeble body into a sitting position, trying to reacclimate yourself. However before you could achieve this simple goal, his hand latched to the back of your head, shoving it down until it was smothered in the soft blankets beneath you. His free hand yanked your legs out from under you, pulling your ass up in the process. Though you couldn’t see him, the power radiating from him was immense, his aura so domineering you felt as if it alone was steadily crushing you. Were you in any sane frame of mind you would fear for your life, struggle and fight against the oppressive hardness that slotted itself against your dripping entrance.

But the slave you had become welcomed the intrusion, and as he tightened his hold on you, growling in your ear like the wild animal he had proved himself to be, you couldn’t stop your body from shuddering in anticipation of what was to come.

“It’s time for some corrective action.”

He entered you violently, his thick cock impossibly hot as he sheathed himself inside of you. The initial pain tore a scream from your throat, your vision dotting as you felt blood trail steadily down your shaking legs. He gave you no time to adjust, continuing his brutal assault as he pounded into you, uncaring of the damage he was inflicting upon you. The smack of his skin against your was punctuated by your cries, at first full of pain, but slowly morphing into expulsions of pleasure.

When the abruptness of his entrance fully subsided, you began to focus on the feel of him inside of you. Each slam of his hips ignited you, creating a feverish frenzy within that blocked out all other sensations and judgment. He filled you so completely, easily reaching all the spots that your fingers tried so desperately to reach just moments ago, satisfying all the areas that had been so urgently in need of attention with each stroke of his cock. You wanted more, needed more, moving in time with him as you chased after your pleasure. Wanton moans spilled from your lips, muffled by the bedding that was being shoved into your mouth with each thrust.

Even in the uncomfortable position he had locked you in, unable to breathe properly or escape from his grasp, all you could find yourself caring about was the alpha behind you and how he was making you feel- a strange sense of pride bubbled inside you the longer he went at you. The most powerful man in the world was doing little more than using you, and yet it was the fact that he chose you to begin with that filled you with flattery. A nobody like you being sought out by an alpha like him... Isn’t that what all Omegas dreamed of? To be desired by a dominant Alpha, having the honor of bringing them pleasure and receiving pleasure in turn, wasn’t that your only purpose, your reason for being?

You never dreamed you would feel that way before, but now you were finally starting to understand. The delirium of your desire had launched you into a state of inescapable euphoria, rebirthing you as nothing more than a shell of a woman who had finally realized her purpose, completely giving herself over to her unquenchable cravings while her Alpha’s assault molded her destiny.

Yujiro was a monster. Any man who did what they had done to the love of your life, any man whom your father had hated to the point of excommunication, any man who would violate you in such a way without so much as batting an eye, was an abomination-the remaining rational part of your mind understood this.

Yet as this demon, deserving of nothing but your scorn and hatred, spilled himself inside of you all you could feel was thankful. Thankful that the ungodly heat was starting to subside, happy that the pain the experience had brought you was alleviated, and blissed out over the feel of him nestled deeply inside of you, convulsing as the twitch of his cumming cock rained pleasure down upon you.

Finally, you felt complete.

After pumping you full of his hefty load, he hoisted you up in his arms, repositioning you so that you were facing him, straddling his lap. Gasping the moment you gained access to fresh air, a distressed groan croaked from your throat as his incisors latched to your neck, sinking deep into your scent gland. Your body shuddered at the sensation, fresh waves of pain and rapture coursing through you as he marked you decisively as his.

The cock that was still stuffed inside of you remained rigid, showing no signs of softening as your walls fluttered around it, the next round of your heat coming far sooner than you had anticipated. His hand wrapped securely around your throat, replacing where his lips had just been. He clamped down hard, pain pulsating from the open wound your scent gland had become, struggling once more to breath. His other hand grasped your hip, both limbs working in unison to bounce you on his dick-using you as if you were a human fleshlight.

“Don’t forget your place again,” he grunted, pulling you down on his cock so harshly, you saw stars, “You’re mine now.”

#baki x reader #baki x y/n #yujiro hanma x y/n #yujiro hanma x reader #yandere yujiro hanma x y/n #yandere yujiro hanma x reader #baki the grappler x reader #baki the grappler x y/n #omegaverse au #baki omegaverse au #baki the grappler omegaverse au #yandere baki the grappler #yandere x reader #also I missed writing for Yujiro POS that he is #abo baki #abo au #abo baki the grappler #yandere baki the grappler x reader #yandere baki the grappler x y/n #mothwingwritings #thank you for reading!!! #I'm honestly surprised I got this out so quick ] #it was nice practice!!! I am excited to do more ABO stuff in the future #so this is dedicated to the Yujiro girlies lul love y'all #<3

[screaminglygay]

hey! can we pretty pls have a pt2 to the stalker!amber?

Amber Freeman headcanons

warnings: dark!amber, swearing, toxic situationship, possibly bad grammar, stalking, obsessive behavior

word count: 1.7k

an: thank you for your patience! i still have some sort of writing block, so this is just something little, but I want to write a full fic on amber, so stay tuned! hehe

Amber and you have many study sessions, she wants you to pass all the exams, it is not her fault that it always leads her to take you in any way she wants

"Amber, we talked about this..." you sigh as you look at the book infront of you, while Amber´s hands were wandering on your body.

"I'm just helping. If you can solve this under a distraction, can you imagine how good you'll be during the exam?" She looks at you, admiring you as she always does.

"So when someone would touch me during the exam I´m gonna be prepared?" You finally look at her, making a joke.

Her whole body shifts, she´s being slightly frustrated about you being such a brat. "Fine, let´s go back to stuying."

"What? I´m just playing your game, Ambs," you smile softly at her.

"No, you´re just being a fucking brat." And now, she´s mad mad.

You scan her face for a little bit, "oh come on, I was just joking," you poke her face slightly.

And there goes her tiny manipulation tactic, that you always fall hard for.

"I feel like you could do something little for me, since I´m spending so much time with you, making sure you pass..." Amber sits up.

You immedietly sit up too, "I- sorry, you are right," you take her hand in yours.

"Lay down, pretty girl..." she leans over you and you lay on your back, here it goes again.

No matter what subject, day in a week or time... Amber always knows how to make you do whatever she wants. And every single time and you... you obey.

Amber always knowing where you are, when the two of you are not together. She put few of a dog trackers in your wallet, some clothes, backpack, even into Chad´s car, just to be sure you´re always okay.

After a long weekend of not seeing eachother, Amber stops by your locker in the morning and waits for you. You immedietly smile, when you see her. It was a long time with your family on some stupid gathering outside the city, your cousin had birthday party - the most disgusting, pervy, rasist idiot. You´re very happy that you are back in school... it is kinda the same hell hole, but at least you still have your friends and Amber here.

"Hi," you say softly as you open your locker, taking out some books.

"Hi," she watches you, "how did you enjoy the family gathering?"

"It was hell-" you respond, but then you look at her with raise eyebrow, "wait, how do you know about the gathering?"

Amber without missing a beat asnwers with a smile, "Chad mentioned."

You nod, "oh, he can´t keep a secret, got it." You shake your head as you close the locker.

The girl smiles, another lie that you believe so easily. "Why a secret?"

"It´s a long story, but uh... I´m not really a fan talking about family, especially if most of them are shitty rasist who can´t name a single country outside of the US," you shrug.

"Got it, no more mentioning these people." She nods, like she doesn´t already know your whole family tree.

She has a tons of your pictures and videos, special folders on her phone, laptop, flashdisks, everything is sorted out.

Because you two are bonding more and more, she was really happy to make a new special folder of you. If the previous photos were only for her, these kinds of pictures are under increased security.

"You look so pretty, so so so pretty," she smiles at you kneeling on the bed, your hands covering your face, from all the emberassement. "Don´t be shy, puppy, look at me... come on." She takes her phone and opens camera.

"Amber..." you basically whine.

"What? Can´t I take a picture of a pretty girl on my bed?" She makes a photo. "Put those hands away for me."

You do, blushing like crazy, this is not something you´re used to. But you want to make her happy, seeing her smile at you makes something inside of you tingle.

"Pretty girl, look at you!" She smirks.

What you didn´t know, was that she has another camera in her room and every single time you´re there, you are increasing the number of files in her folder.

Even though the two of you are not official yet, everyone can see that Amber holds this sort of protection over you.

Another collage party, which is not a place you would chose to spend your time, but everyone decided to go and you didn´t want to be the only one saying no.

You are sitting on the couch next to Tara and Mindy, talking about your plans for the weekend, when all of the sudden a tall most would say handsome guy sit infront of you.

"That seat is occupied," Mindy says.

He looks around, "I don´t see anyone here. So..." He winks at you.

"That seat is occupied, they just went to grab someting to drink," you yell, because of the loud music.

"I wouldn´t leave such a pretty little thing on her own..." He smiles and you´re ready to throw up.

And before you or any of the girls could say anything, Amber steps in. "She is not alone, you dipshit."

He chuckles and stands up, "and who are you?"

"I don´t want to have a conversation with you," she splashes one of the drinks into his face, which indeed makes him leave with screaming something about a bitch.

"Oh wow, I respect that." Mindy says and Tara just stares at Amber.

"Um- thanks?" You look at Amber.

"Sorry about the drink, here take mine." She smiles as she gives you the only drink that survived.

Amber is very observing, she knows everything about you, even stuff you didn´t figure out on your own, but there are times when you totally shock her.

"Are you crazy, what are you doing here?" Amber yells at you. Walking in the rain was not the smartest decision you made. You were frozen to the bone

"I wanted to suprise you..." you smile softly.

"Wha- come in, jesus!" She steps aside so you can come inside her apartment, rushing to the bathroom for a towel.

"You uh said you had some hard time at work, so I just assumed... that maybe I could cheer you up a little bit." You say while your whole body is trembling.

Amber walks out with a towel and some of her clothes, looking at you like a deer in the headlights.

"I brought your favorite donuts and some nice relaxing candles. And we can order some sushi later. And if you´d like I can help with something, or just... keep you company, since I have zero idea what you´re doing at work." You let out a chuckle, "I mean most of the things I brought are completly wet, but I think they suvived it."

"You´re such a dumbass, do you know that?" Amber shakes her head, helping you put the things down and covering you up in a towel. "Why didn´t you call me, I could pick you up?"

"That woudln´t be a suprise, duh."

"God, we will be lucky if you won´t die from hypothermia, right now."

"I´m not helping with the stress, huh?" you sigh.

"(Y/N), I appraciate the effort, I really do, but next time, don´t try to walk in the worst thunderstorm, alright?"

"I think I could do that, yeah." The both of you laughed.

She loves PDA, her hands are on you all the time. Amber, an ardent lover of public displays of affection, is perpetually tactile, her hands finding peace on the lower back, intertwining fingers, and linked arms, embracing herself around her world.

“I’ll take this, thank you, pretty girl,” she says as she holds your hand for the billionth time today.

Amber is being your personal driver, driving you everywhere you need. Even if it means she has to wake up sooner, when you have classes, she will drive you no matter what.

The both of you made Saturdays as your movie nights.

"What are we chosing tonight?" Amber asks from the batrhoom.

You scroll through the Netflix, "how about the new season of YOU?"

Amber stops at her tracks, "um... what´s that?"

"You don´t know YOU?! What?! It´s really good show! We have to watch it."

"But you´ve already seen it, I don´t want to bother you by watching something twice..." She tries to skate out of it.

"No, no, it´s fine. I really enjoyed it and you will too!" You smile, clicking on the first season.

This was the biggest paradox in Amber´s life.

"Wow, that´s some stalker shit, just like you are!" Amber says with a light nudge.

"Oh shut up! I said if bilions of times, I didn´t stalk you. I don´t do that."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, (Y/N)," Amber teases you, "but following me like a lost puppy, liking my old photo, going through my social media, are you sure you´re not a Joe to my Beck?" Oh she´s pushing it, but for you, it´s just a silly missunderstanding that happened few motnths ago.

Despite her focus on academics and socializing, Amber harbors a secret talent for photography. She has a knack for capturing candid moments and hidden emotions, using her camera lens to express herself in ways that words cannot. And when it is combined with you?

Perfection.

Amber loves when you 'steal' her clothes, there is no better view than you in her bed with only her oversized shirt on you.

"Is that my shirt?" Amber looks at you, as youre already in bed, waiting for the usual movie night.

"Definetly not," you shake your head, taking the blanket to cover you.

"Oh- then what is your favorite song?" She smirks.

"Huh?"

"You have my favorite band on your shirt, what is your favorite song from them?" Amber asks again.

"Oh... um- all of them." Good save?

She laughs "All of them? It is not a band shirt, it´s a car logo, pretty girl."

You blush, "oh." Not a good save.

"It´s fine, keep the shirt, you look pretty in it." She lays next to you, putting an arm around you, keeping you close as possible.

In her free time, Amber enjoys exploring antique shops and flea markets, searching for unique treasures and hidden gems to add to her collection. She has a keen eye for things like this.

Thank you for reading!

#adele writes #scream universe #scream fanfic #amber freeman x reader #amber freeman #amber freeman x fem!reader #amber freeman x you

[aq2003]

martha jones is kind of like if horatio and ophelia were one person tbh

this post by darkcomedies

s03e08 human nature // hamlet (2009), act 3 scene 2 // hamlet to horatio, act 3 scene 2 // martha about ten, s03e09 the family of blood // s03e03 gridlock // hamlet (2009), act 5 scene 1 // canary in a coal mine by the crane wives

s03e02 the shakespeare code // hamlet (2009), act 3 scene 1 // ophelia about hamlet, act 2 scene 1 // s03e07 42 // hamlet (2009), act 3 scene 2 // s03e05 evolution of the daleks // hoping on another life by madds buckley

hamlet's letter to ophelia, act 2 scene 2 // s03e13 last of the time lords // hamlet (2009), act 5 scene 2 // the shooting script for s03e07 42 // the tags on darkcomedies' post

#martha jones #tenth doctor #10th doctor #doctor who #hamlet #david tennant #<- because this IS his fault . at least a little bit #dr who #10 era #ten and martha #my edits #i do NOT know how to title my webweaving posts sorry and also my sources look like a nightmare #this post is just extremely fucking incomprehensible . sorry. my bad #so proud of the parallel i drew between the scene at the end of gridlock and alas poor yorick i'm so smart <- deranged #also despite the fact martha clocks closer to horatio in my head and it's way easier drawing parallels between those two #so proud of the parallel between hamlet's love letter and last of the timelords my brain is huge <- DERANGED #no this isnt a ship post bc im not built like that but i do realize i've set myself up for failure completely with this one #DONT LET ME COOK [BANGS POTS AND PANS] DONT LET ME COOK

[jahiera]

sorry I'm gonna cringepost again.

there's something I need to expel from my brain in terms of how astarion grapples and feels resentment/disgust/derision toward the concepts of heroics and ""good"" people and the way that emrys craves deeply to be good but will ultimately always fall short of the mark (in her own mind, at least) because she's too angry + too violent + too impulsive + too outraged (toward injustice, cruelty, in the world), the paladin ideal will never be met. and how when they're put together in the same room they line up to smack each other RIGHT in the thing theyre sensitive about. astarion lays out clearly the failures of the very foundations of her belief systems, makes her grapple with the things that are too extreme, whats long since become burdens to her, and she forces him to endure the fact that there are at least a few people in the world that are willing to fight with him and for others. and they're both? scrappy people, really. and go hard in the opposite directions but on the same wavelength of... interaction; both snarky, stubborn, toe to toe on everything, admirable of resilience. sort of forced together by circumstance, but completely filling in the gaps the other's got going on. it's just where he's got the lying and the charades and the bullshit and she is so Brusque and bludgeoning through at all times that the charade is moot. completely antithetical to everything he's been doing for the last 200 yrs, which is as irritating as it can maybe be refreshing. and he makes her laugh. WHICH IS NICE.

#not really into the protectiveness thing or the 'I can fix him'--if he grows beside her that's up to him but regardless in all of that #there's security and dependability to her; in turn there's a freedom to being with him #a sort of. relinquishing of burdens. learning a bit of quality selfishness. #like I don't see astarion necessarily /directly/ thinking about how he helps her; I don't think that's really something he Comprehends on a #level where it can be put rationally into words. #(at least; not yet) #she's very much someone who's too ...... repressed really. for lots of serious contemplation on what you give the other person #but for the sake of ME comprehending. ugh what a rush it is to be around someone who is so totally delighting in the freedom of the world #ignoring the murder comments. (which also make her chortle a bit not that she would admit it. because it's so ridiculous.) there's a lot of #little awe and ridiculousness and delight he's got going on that sort of strikes a cord for what she's both #taken for granted and what she herself /lacks/ #something something he's just now free and she's still chained up to the weight of her own oaths & expectations #which is a very DIFFERENT kind of binding to what he had going on but there's enough there to strike a cord with her #and on the inverse. again. she's such a /solid/ grounding presence. which starts out unfathomably irritating but is undeniably secure #if she surprises him it's only in the small interpersonal because she's /so/ constant. nothing weathervane about her. #except for when she can be Encouraged toward something mildly chaotic or ridiculous (which she can) #I dont know I just ... find his endless fluidity next to her stalwart-to-a-fault to be. COMPELLING. #how do you move and flit and con around someone so unyieldingly real. #easily. but also extremely difficult when she doesn't buy into the bullshit either. #she's not trusting enough and most definitely not naive enough to believe in the goodness of others. demands it anyway. and such and such. #oc. emrys

[gar-a-ash]

We're both absolutely zonked after this weekend. I have some thoughts on it that I'll have to write up later but it was very good for me to see a completely different group of dog trainers with completely different training methods than my usual training group. I do fully plan to integrate things between the two because both do things I like and both do things I don't but I'm pleased to see that I actually do not intend to change how I started Tassie when it comes to next puppy but I also do intend to go into more than what my normal group will allow.

For her, the first day was kind of a wash because this group trains so different than I do, so Tassie didn't understand the rules of the game and the instructor here didn't allow me to help her on day one so it wasn't entirely fair to her. He did change his opinion on her entirely between the two days, once I was allowed to work my dog the way I work my dog. We went from "she doesn't have it" to "okay she actually has a lot we just need to do foundational work with her". But we did a TON of work with social pressure on day two and actually put some stress on her and I think he was very surprised that my socially anxious dog that refused to engage with him for an entire day was willing to work through a ton of pressure just because I asked, including him actually getting on her other side during a sit and leaning on her so strong I was almost falling over. And through that she was still watching me and taking food and doing her absolute best to pretend he didn't exist which is exactly what I wanted. I think if I do another seminar with him after going back to some foundational work she's going to really surprise him.

#i was a little annoyed day one not going to lie #also our first run on day two #but after that first run i informed him what i wanted to do for the last run and once he saw it he was a bit thoughtful #not entirely his fault he doesnt know her and like i said our training methods are entirely different #but he did refuse to really try her and that bothered me #because i think if we had done day two stuff the day one we could have really branches out by day two #its okay though he plans to come back and in the meantime ill do more foundation work #try to get back out there to work with that other group at least a few times if i can #its just a long drive and shes kind of out of my budget for regular private sessions #which is not her fault but a fault of my own situation #anyways longer writeup coming later

[worstloki]

I'll give u a hundred if u let me in on the secret abt fans thinking thor and loki didn't act like siblings before ragnarok

well you see, siblings have got to be willing to harm each other a little, otherwise it doesn't count.

#idk man idk how anyone can claim that #ragnarok made them generic siblings #brodinsons are about loki wanting thor to get more time before he becomes king and prove he's arrogant without actually going to jotunheim #they're about thor not thinking that his behaviour hurts loki and accepting loki is king and not wanting to fight him even at the end #you can say thor and loki fight but you can also clearly say that they don't WANT to harm each other even if that's exactly what they want #they'll do it but they won't do it willingly yk #not even like. a little. #loki orchestrates the whole coronation going to jotunheim thing but doesn't intend thor to actually get a punishment or start a fight. like #thor's apathetic @ loki and shows no sympathy in TDW but he doesn't want his brother hurt and he doesn't want him dead #and vice versa???? like even when they hurt each other there's no ill intent or genuine malice there #Loki's bitter and all but he doesn't point out Thor's faults TO Thor ??? except when he's hurt and unstable himself??? ??? #he criticizes Odin and Thor's behaviour a few times in TDW but not to THOR's face yk? #Loki gets the throne in TDW and lets Thor go on his way when he doesn't accept the throne like #there is no ''i want him dead'' or ''i want him in pain'' or ''wouldn't it be funny if i humiliated him'' #besides when they're hurt and feel there's no other choice and even then it's more a case of ''i want to understand what's going on w/ u'' #usually siblings are ready to hurt each other A BIT at least #like you can safely say Thor didn't expect Loki to get hurt on Jotunheim and Loki didn't expect he could actually kill Thor #it's not a case of Shuri getting T'Challa to punch the new suit just to mess with him or Nebula and Gamora's status quo of death fighting #it's flat out 'no i don't want to hurt this person and if i do it's because i have to' #my assumption from jokes and stuff is that people think that's unrealistic #instead of the sibling rivalry thing being used as a gag where Loki stabs Thor for fun and Thor is ready to electrocute his brother

[codgod]

i have so many thoughts abt desire and corruption of that + wants vs needs etc. as themes throughout all of riptide but i am just not good enough at wording things to properly articulate them

#.txt #like okay. chip wants to find arlin. is that what he really needs? #gillion wants to fulfill the prophecy. but is it really? and is it what’s right? #jay wants to find out what really happened to ava. but is she going to like what she finds? #when these characters finally achieve their goals. when they get what they desire (or think they desire) the most #how happy are they really going to be? #there’s already cracks #bizly mentioned once that chip is in fact scared of meeting arlin again #because he’s worried he’s built him up too much in his mind #as some kind of myth #and the real arlin won’t be who chip thinks he will #gillion is unsure of the prophecy and the elders and everything surrounding what he was raised to believe #jay it’s a bit more complicated. because relatively speaking #she’s a little bit closer to her own goal than the other two #and she’s stayed more steadfast #but she was at least somewhat in denial about the navy being at fault for what happened to ava #then there’s the bigger stuff outside the main 3 #the eastern sea literally got corrupted by desire though it’s unclear why #niklaus is a whole thing #the compass…. #‘this could take us where we need to go!’ #‘no chip. it can take us where you *want* to go. and i know there’s a difference’ #aaaagh. rotating things in my brain

[housewife-hannibal]

If anyone cares to know my secret to enjoying LND i just tell myself it’s one of Erik’s many fantasies of a better life Christine. Raoul is a bumbling idiot, Christine chooses him, all of his less favorable qualities (murder and more!) vanish, he has a little boy with a beautiful voice that is a perfect amalgamation of him and Christine and everyone pays lots of money to see his creations on a big stage. It’s even canon (proof: don jaun triumphant having the main character covered by a dark cloak.. because Erik is the true casting of the character) that he still keeps some of his defining traits such as his inherent misery and horribleness. But he still must be seen as somewhat of a hero of course! (Trying to save Meg, which he would literally never do in reality.) (Being a morally better person than Raoul which is literally just not true)

#I reblogged a post about this a little bit ago which reminded me to make this post #he knows he can’t possibly ignore some of his own faults #no one really denies that lnd mischaracterizes him pretty horribly #so this is my way of being content with it #because I can’t force myself to ignore it’s existence #i really do wonder what possessed alw to create such a piece #I gotta say though #in my head canon heart #I love that he at least put in a little effort for Meg #even if it’s not realistic at all #but tbh ever since i joined the poto fandom i love the idea of #erik and the girys having a little found family situation #in lnd i also like to headcanon that he actually did view Meg as a dear friend #not above Christine of course #we can’t all be like Christine.. #beyond the film i like to imagine that he really was intently listening to Meg when she talks about the shows #madame giry just fails to see that he’s at somewhat trying because that’s her little girl #and regardless of his care he is still stringing her along at the end of the day #ugh wait sorry for the ramble #anyway yeah this is all just as unrealistic as lnd itself #I wouldn’t call myself a fan of the show when considering that it’s not written ironically #but I love the idea of it being made as a fan fiction written by Erik himself #similar to don jaun trimphant #tbh if alw really wanted to he could lie through his teeth and say this is the case #but it seems he fails to understand why no one can take lnd seriously #it makes zero sense #i just decide to not take it too seriously and regard it as silly and goofy as it truly is #rip erik you would’ve loved ao3 and wattpad #phantom of the opera #love never dies

[euno11a]

”Simon, you need to promise me you won’t get mad…” you said as you looked at him from the opposite side of the couch.

his brows furrowed as he looked at you, “Can’t promise, love.”

you nibbled your lip, picking at the skin on your cuticles before finally spitting it out. “I have a crush on someone!”

you’ve seen Simon in many ways - when he’s angry, sad, happy, horny and that beautiful look he gave you when he saw you on your wedding day, but nothing would’ve ever prepared you for the look you got when you said that. He looked like you hit his heart a thousand times. “Y’what?”

“I- I have a crush…and the problem is, I can’t stop staring and thinking he’s the most handsome guy. And when he stared back at me, I got butterflies and felt myself blush.”

He sat quietly, listening to you as you rambled on about your new crush…at least you were telling him and not cheating.

You let out a small sigh, “He makes me nervous and giddy; not nervous in a bad way, but nervous in a ‘I just want him to lean in and kiss me’ kinda way. Like, ‘Hey, my phone buzzed and I hope it’s him’ kinda way. And when I get ready to go out, I struggle to find the perfect outfit because I wanna look just right…”

that feeling of comfort he once had with you, his wife, was just fading away so easily. After all the shit that had happened to him, you were the last one he thought would do this to him. He stood up and ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head and walking off to the front door.

you got up and ran over to him, grabbing his arm. “Si, where are you going?” You looked at him, trying to figure out what made him upset.

“Away. Let y’have yer time with your new lad.” His voice was stern and full of venom. But it only got worse when he saw you crack a smile.

“Simon…no, lovie, I was talking about you! You’re the guy I have a crush on…and I know it’s gushy, but I feel like a teenager again every time I look at you. It’s your fault for being so handsome.” Your voice gentle as you cupped his face and pressed little butterfly kisses to his cheeks and nose.

he could do nothing but stand there dumbfounded. “Y’need t’find a better way of sayin’ shit, doll. Thought you were bout to leave me…” his voice got softer when he said that last bit.

your eyes softened, knowing how it sounded to him. You sank to your knees and pressed small kisses to his sweatpant clad thighs, earning a small groan from him. “Wha’re you doin’ love?”

“Apologizing…” you said, staring up at him through your lashes as you pulled his sweats down.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost #ghost x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty #fluff headcanons #fluff #drabble #oneshot #smut

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. staying at your boyfriend’s house for the first time is nerve wracking. though luckily satoru understands your situation all too well.

wc. around 870

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive implications. reader is implied to be a virgin + has no experience dating. satoru being a gentleman hehe. nicknames used ‘sugar, sweetheart’. not beta read.

“are you sure?” you ask your lover who’s making himself comfortable on the couch. satoru sits down and gives you a reassuring smile. he adjusts the blue blanket he’s covering himself with before responding.

“mhm. a hundred percent,” he nods and reaches for your hand. his thumb brushes over your knuckles in a soothing manner. his blue eyes glow with the purest form of love—pure unadulterated love for you.

it’s your first time staying over at your boyfriend’s. it’s nerve wracking for some reason. maybe because you have all kinds of ideas running through your head about how your night could possibly go.

the thought about possible intimacy is scary, because you’re not sure if you’re actually prepared. you had set your mind to it on your way to his house; you will be ready if satoru asks to take things further. for his sake. .

but, when the time had come, nothing happened. you expected at least something to happen. he’s kissed you as per usual, however more than that has not occurred. perhaps it’s your own fault for trying to predict what will happen.

though how can you not? you assumed that if a boyfriend and girlfriend spend the night together, they’ll surely do something more. at least you think that’s what happens most of the time. with other couples that is.

you should’ve known by now that satoru doesn’t compare to other men. especially not to the college boys your age—who only want to hit and move on. satoru is serious about your relationship. committed.

“what’s going on in that pretty head of yours, sugar?” satoru’s smooth voice interrupts your thoughts. you clear your throat and shake your head, dismissing your own tendencies to overthink every little thing.

his big hands cover both of yours completely. they’re warm. nice to hold. the older man lifts your hands up to his lips and kisses your palms. you sigh and finally relax after what feels like hours, “nothing, ‘toru.”

nothing, you say. little did you know that satoru has long noticed what’s wrong. you’re easy to read—your body language reveals every little thing you’re feeling.

you subconsciously had your fists clenched at your sides the second you stepped into his apartment. you’ve been avoiding eye contact more than usual and you keep nibbling on your bottom lip. those were all the signs he needed.

satoru knows you well enough to realise that you’re overly nervous. he understands why. it’s your first time staying overnight at a man’s house—your boyfriend’s house.

satoru’s sure you’re thinking that he’ll ask you to sleep with him. it’s obvious. each time he kisses you, you tense up. you normally get flustered, though today you’re more than just nervous.

he doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable. he doesn’t want you to think that he’ll do anything you’re not ready for. the last thing satoru would do is take advantage of this precious moment. of his precious girl.

it’s also why he suggested to sleep on the couch. he figured that you’ll be less nervous if you have the bed to yourself. all he wants is for you to relax around him.

“may i?” satoru whispers. his warm breath caresses your hands and you instantly give your consent to whatever he wishes to do. the older man thanks you quietly before putting his forehead against yours.

you look into each other’s eyes and you’re once again stunned by the beauty of his blue orbs. satoru brushes his knuckles over your cheek, adoring just how adorable you look from up close, “it’s okay, yeah? i won’t ask you to do anything. i promise.”

you blink. it’s only then that the realisation dawns upon you. no wonder satoru has immediately noticed your nervous demeanour. he’s always so perceptive of how you feel. it’s quite heartwarming.

those comforting words are all you need. you smile brightly and hug satoru out of reflex. you hear a giggle escape his lips before he returns the gesture. his strong arms wrap around your form and he squeezes you to his chest.

“aww, there’s my baby,” satoru coos. he’s happy that he’s finally succeeded at calming you down. he’s also happy that he got your usual self back. he tenderly kisses the top of your head.

you lift your head up to get some air. satoru’s tight embrace and familiar scent nearly suffocated you—not that you would mind going out like that. you kiss his cheek, “thank you for being so. . err, patient and understanding.”

your boyfriend shakes his head with a soft smile playing across his lips. satoru leaves a trail of ticklish pecks down your face until he reaches your lips. after waiting for your usual sign - a faint nod - he captures them in a gentle kiss.

he pulls away after a few seconds, though stays close to your face. you’re filled with an incredible feeling of warmth because of satoru’s obvious adoration for you. pure content.

he lets out a breathy laugh at your cute, flustered expression. he pulls you in for a hug again and presses your head against his chest, “heh, no, i should thank you for trusting me. i love you s’much.”

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x you #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jjk x y/n #divider by @/cafekitsune