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absolutebl · 6 months

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Hi ABL! After watching episode 1 of Between Us, I was impressed with the level of "thirst" between Boun and Prem's characters in the last couple of scenes. Are there shows or scenes of shows, regardless of actual heat level, that you think did "thirst" well, regardless of how that's resolved at the time? Subjective, I know, but would love to get your take on this!

20 BLs with the BEST Thirst!

Thirst wants to slide a hand under his waistband right tf now and grind. Horny wants to rip his clothes off, and probably pop buttons and laugh about it. Yearning wants to run both hands up his back while they kiss deeply. Hunger wants to lift him by the ass and slam him against the wall.

Raise your glasses please, to THIRST.

I Cannot Reach You - Japan 2023

It's fresh in my mind, so first on this list.

Secret Crush on You - Thailand 2022

This scene in particular sprang next to mind, just because for me it kinda defined thirst in Thai BL. (Also see my #1 pick for sides at the end.)

Jun & Jun - Korea 2023

We Best Love: Fighting Mr 2nd - Taiwan 2021

2 Moons: Ambassador (AKA 2 Moons 3) - Thailand 2022

Eternal Yesterday - Japan 2022

Why R U? - Korea 2023

HIStory 3 - the BL that shall not be named - Taiwan 2019

Bed Friend - Thailand 2023

They sleeping together but King still thirsty af

Big Dragon - Thailand 2022

My Beautiful Man - Japan 2021

Between Us - Thailand 2022-23

Minato's Laundromat - Japan 2022

Ghost Host Ghost House - Thailand 2022

the infamous leg scene alone qualifies them, but they very mutually thirsty in general

My Personal Weatherman - Japan 2023

It's the point.

I Feel You Linger in the Air - Thailand 2023

The oil scene is a stroke of genius.

Well, several strokes.

Old Fashion Cupcake - Japan 2022

I Told Sunset About You - Thailand 2020

Love in Translation - Thailand 2023

Just because of that damn convenience store make-out scene.

Nitiman - Thailand 2021

I find thirst is often (although not always) the provenance of the seme character.

Mutual thirst is really rare.

Side dish gravy

Shorts, side couples, and so forth.

Oh My Sunshine Night - Thailand 2022

Noh appears 2x on this list. He's GREAT at thirst. Possibly the only Thai actor to give Japan real competition. GIVE HIM ANOTHER LEAD!

HIStory 4: Close To You - Taiwan 2021

Gen Y 2 - Thailand 2022

@heretherebedork and I call them PokeTongue for a reason.

Y-Destiny - Thailand 2021

kiss x kiss x kiss: Perfect Scandal - Japan 2022

No shocker that Japan is the only one to field a micro on this list. Usually thirst takes more build up.

Defining THIRST

I make a distinction between thirst and other types of physical desire. This is just me and language.

Thirst usually leaps off the screen and has an edge of danger to it. Like they gonna get caught, or go out of control just from wanting to touch. They gonna die without physical contact. It's pure survival need. Japan kinda specializes in this.

There's no humor to thirst, but horny can get kinda cheeky. It's more fun and mutual (ee.g. KinnPorsche). More want than need. So it's more Thailand and Taiwan.

There's also yearning (e.g. The 8th Sense), which has a more emotional soul tether to it. Korea in particular, but also like GMMTV and lower heat prestige stuff, high school things for example (My School President).

And finally hunger, which I tend to think of as desire but with a nourishment component. It's I want what's MINE. Like Taejung in Cherry Blossoms After Winter.

These aren't mutually exclusive, mind you.

I dithered but they didn't quite make the list

Irresistible Love - China 2016

Second Chance - Thailand 2021

Takara & Amagi - Japan 2022

Love Area - Thailand 2022

Takumi-kun - Japan 2007

Moonlight Chicken - Thailand 2023

My Engineer (RamKing) - Thailand 2020

It's why we're all still mad we never got full RamKing

(source)

This posted dated end of 2023. Not responsible for thirsty BL that happens after. Check the comments for additions and other's thoughts on the matter.

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bestygogirl · 3 months

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BEST YGO GIRL: FINAL ROUND

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

anyways. not only as mentioned above is she the first woman to make kaiba squirm, but she was by all means going to beat him if not for the millennium rod's millennium interference. yami marik admits that she's a strong duelist with a strategy that's been working for literal years-- and given that she's not like, a professional duelist, thats pretty impressive

she also recently got some really cool meta bumps and let me point out that an "ishizu deck" now includes obelisk the tormentor-- which we knew she had prior to giving it to kaiba, but i think it only solidifies my opinion that she very much could wield an Egyptian God Card, an exclusive little club for top tier duelists

as a character she presents herself with an amazing amount of poise and grace, shes compassionate and kind and stays with mai and serenity even though she only just met them. shes struggling through living the past 5 years of her life drowning in guilt for her family's tragedy just because she wanted to make her little brother happy and shadi is a fucking liar. shes foretold her own death and marches towards it grimly but with so much love in her heart. and even then shes 20 years old and holds an important position in the egyptian government that typically requires a doctorate degree AND has been dealing with mariks off-and-on bullshit entirely by her lonesome. she also likes to flex her fortunetelling a little which is awesome i think she should do that more that scene where she tells the guy exactly how the stele is being transported was so everything

speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny

shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.

also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.

kaiba, in duelist kingdom, was ready to jump off a ledge if yugi didnt let him through to face pegasus while trying to save mokuba out of sheer desperation to save his little brother. he KNOWS what that dedication feels like and the iron kind of will you need to have to make that kind of gamble. isis is being so fucking legit with what shes saying and he respects that and her judgement enough to change his mind and not only watch the duel, but give yugi a card that eventually helps him win, even if he has no real confidence in the odds. but theres a CHANCE, which is the same thing he taught her when he beat her in a duel. the layers its her faith that moves him to act. which is so crazy

anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit

Yuzu Hiragi

The mysterious magical bracelet that isekai's her to different worlds, the Can-Do attitude, the cool poses (fusion summoning), the ADORABLE character design, AND she was 1/4 of a world-saving hero in the past?? If it weren't for the meddling writers, she would have been the main character

yuzu is everything. literally the plot of arc v hinges on the fact everyone who meets her become just as obsessed with her. and they are totally right to do so

#best ygo girl poll #final round #yugioh duel monsters #isis ishtar #ishizu ishtar #yugioh arc v #yuzu hiiragi #zuzu boyle

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charismaofobedience · 9 months

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Hi and welcome to my professional analysis on whether the hypmic men could survive rios bootcamp. All the statements on this are facts and cannot be simply disagreed upon without proof. The assessment to each individual ranking can be found under

Rio - that's rio. easy

Ichiro - I think running around ikebukuro doing errands gives him some pretty good stamina AND strength to get through it all, could do it no problem and would possibly have fun doing it which is an added bonus for doing well

Kuko - Monk training gives him good strength and stamina to do it! Even if he couldn't do something, I feel like kuko would somehow end up doing it out of sheer spite due to others doubting him

Dice - Dice gets through so much shit I think he'd do it no problem only to die AFTER it's all done if this makes sense. Plus he does hang out with Rio so this man should have some training under his belt

Hitoya - special clause for this old man. I would put him with jakurai and rei BUT. You have to consider he deals with kuko and jyushi on basically a daily basis. Kuko alone probably gives this man strength to do it if we are being honest

Samatoki - could do it. Samatoki is pretty strong and all but I don't think this man could go through the pushups for long when we consider the state of his lungs. He has the strength but I don't think he has the proper stamina for it, however, he'd do it and just act like it's nothing

Ramuda - don't be fooled by the cute face. Ramudas high energy comes into play here and helps a lot, especially with stamina, even if the strength is lower than others. It also, however, depends highly on this thing WANTING to do the boot camp or not, which has a high chance of not wanting to unless necessary and, even if doing it, ramuda would whine throughout it.

Jiro - Ichiros brother, also doing shit around ikebukuro. The fact he's good at sports also helps a lot here! He'd do pretty well, however, even with the stamina being here, I don't think his strength is at the levels of the ones above to put him there

Hifumi - would rush through it and do it easily if only to check onto doppo who's currently dying on the floor, so it would take some small time. Gigolo would do it well but only if there are women around to impress them so it's a highly dependant case

Rosho - current maths teacher ex bad boy or whatever the shit. due to his age he has some difficulties surely BUT the strength from his past absolutely is still around. The main problem would be stamina

Jyushi - you need to scare them before and then they'd be rushing through everything to get it done quickly. Also highly dependant on if the vkei clothes are actually there or not, if they are, they're passing out almost immediately due to heat

Doppo - i don't think this man knows what an exercise is, you could easily fold him in half. Lives his life in an office and getting home just cries himself to sleep like the average office worker in Japan. F.

Gentaro - Oya do you really think I could not do this Daisu ufufu ^-^ immediately falls to the floor and passes out. Look at the way this man dresses. Another case of heatstroke in this cast. Even if he was wearing lighter clothes he's a writer and reader, does not even know what an exercise is meant to look like. Would instead pull a book out of nowhere and read while the others go through the bootcamp

Saburo - 14 years old hacker who absolutely stays up late doing tech stuff. Do I need to say more.

Sasara - he'd do one push up and a silly goofyass sound effect like point would play. It means his spine broke.

Jyuto - cop + look at the way he's built

Jakurai - he is healthy, don't get me wrong! However his old man bones aren't meant for this anymore!!!!!! Just let him rest. While the others are doing the push-ups just let him go to these public elder academy places

Rei - dies in 13 seconds max.

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fieldsofbats · 9 months

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simon riley x waitstaff!reader

thank you to those who liked my first post <3 i am still v new to this and haven't quite figured out my preferred writing style so all feedback is welcome (be respectful tho).

part one

part two

right so at ur work it’s real common to have military folk there bc it is a military town, close to base, training facilities etc.

first visit was just to the bar section of the place. price thought it would be good for moral to go out and have some chill team time, watch a football match and just hang out.

soap ordered some food and you brought it over to them. simon did not notice you bc he was watching the game, but then he got a whiff of soaps food and decided to grab something.

cue you coming back over with your sweet smile and handing him his food and cutlery before wandering back to the resturant bc its a quiet night.

mans is hooked.

second time ghost comes in it’s at night again but the restaurant is slammed bc it’s family week, everyone is getting dinner the night before they gotta head home.

lbr, simon didnt think about you until soap wanted to go out again: "where are we goin'" "that place with the pretty server", knows exactly where they are going.

but still, your smile and warmth towards everyone is so kind and customer service is through the roof. yet he watches as you race around in and out of the kitchen with crazy ease and grace

like dude is impressed at you staying calm and steady despite how fuckin busy it is and people with their insane requests and demands for food (inpatient pricks)

he wants to stick around and watch u but it has become way to loud and busy for him so he bows out and goes back to his quiet room

simon strikes me as someone that likes to have as much regularity in his life as possible, why do you think 141 are literally the only people he has relationships with???

but mainly forms this routine bc he gets to see you, and he knows you will be there bc you’ve old him its your regular shift.

"you basically live here."

"haha no, i just make sure i get the shift with you."

the restaurant would make the booking for him in advance cause he never does but you know he is coming anyway so have it under ‘y/n's man’ (hasn’t told you his name) and ur coworkers think its super cute and funny

but he would make the effort to come in when it is quiet and has the chance to actually listen to you talk and see you interact with others on a more relaxed level BUT he wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you rushing around tables and weaving between guests who haven’t sat down

ngl he would find it hot watching you manage several orders and memorising different peoples requirements, all while keeping that sweet smile and polite manner

you can carry three plates?! this man is sweating under the mask

he doesn’t do a lot of the talking, only when you really prompt him or he is feeling a bit more extroverted that day. Doesn’t wanna talk about military shit with you but that’s all he does so he prefers to listen to you.

knows all the drama and gossip of the restaurant. glad to hear you are not dating the guy behind the bar and that you also don't like the receptionist because he perfume is to strong.

he will hang around and wait for it to die down to be able to talk to you. if it gets too loud for him he might just try and see you at the till as he leaves but has pushed through once or twice to talk to you.

something about you makes him feel more real, that he isn’t just some shell of a man, that he has a purpose. he likes that you treat him normally, the fresh slate you give him is like clean evening air.

ANYWAY it would take him ages to ask you out, like more than six/ seven months, and he would be so nervous (not to the point of stuttering or shaking bc this man is military he has been in worse situations, but his heart would be running a marathon and the self doubt would be just as loud)

but also protective ghost omgggg, he would be seething watching the old men be creepy and shit

knife and fork are down and he is up behind these men leering over them “excuse me, I just have a question about my meal.” just would say anything to get you out of that situation and back over to him. Or would just stand by the register staring down these men (this happens a lot more often than simon would like to admit)

always checks in when he is leaving to make sure he didn’t over step or make you uncomfortable by accident

#simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #x reader #ahhh my first proper fic #thank yall so so much #pls be kind.

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dnickels · 8 months

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RE: 5x05. I have no idea how much I'm supposed to read into this, but that has never stopped me before:

It's VE Day. Havers is back in England. The post office, telephone system, communication infrastructure etc all still work. So where is Cap's sense of urgency coming from? He knows the full name and regiment of a serving officer, a letter will get where it needs to go, they're very good about that over there. Yes, Cap's been waiting, but its been six years, he can wait a little longer-- hang out in the bushes until he sees Haver's car drive away and bang on the window, if he insists on being an insane person (<3). Figure out where he's billeted. Japan hasn't surrendered yet, so I suppose there's a chance Havers could get shipped to Burma or something and potentially die there, but he's not going to go straight from the cocktail reception to the troop ship, especially if everyone there is about to get "Hitler defeated"-levels of drunk. ("They're all red tabs, surely decency and decorum--" they are going to roll those old soaks out of there in wheelbarrows)

The urgency isn't because Havers might die. I think Cap knew his time was short.

He's a middle aged man in tolerably good shape, all that ration food aside. He make good time on his morning jogs, and his biggest ailment is 'creaky knees'. "Widowmaker heart attack out of nowhere" isn't an unheard of COD for someone who seems otherwise fine, especially someone who has been under a fair amount of stress (six years of wartime, including the fucking Blitz would do a number on my heart) but his sudden relocation makes me pause. It's only been about a year since he got relocated away from Button House, right? What was all that about? It's presumably still requisitioned, given that they're throwing a swanky victory party there and Heather Button is nowhere to be seen, but has the weapons program been disbanded? Or was there some reason to pull the CO out of a high-stress position and send him to the beach to take potshots at seagulls? (I am being glib here-- the coast was NOT a stress-free place when you can see your enemy just across the Channel). I genuinely forget what he said he was doing in season three-- was he even still in the army at all, or did they send his ass to the Home Guard? Even they got a campaign ribbon.

I think Cap made one last push to get to the front, and while its very clear that this dingus should under no circumstances be on the front line (<3) they humored him with a medical-- and found something really troubling. Or maybe he went in of his own accord, the old flutter, or maybe it was just a routine checkup. Either way he got some very serious news, so sorry old boy, just one of those things, could be any day now-- best make sure your affairs are all in order.

Hence the single-minded desire to meet, once last time. Everyone else clearly drove-- did he walk all the way from the train station, down the country lanes? Did he feel a little short of breath scaling all those walls? Did every set-back and stressor make him more determined-- just give me a little more time, just a little more time...

It could also be that he just got yelled at so hard he died of it, which is almost certainly how I will go, but that was my immediate impression and it has not left me, nor have I known peace. I know there's a few holes in my theory but I haven't talked myself out of it yet. For me the kicker is that he experiences at least ten devastating emotions in the last moments of his life, but "surprise at entering cardiac arrest" does not appear to be one of them. It looks more like grim acceptance. Stoic in the face of death-- a soldier to the end.

#bbc ghosts #ghosts spoilers #the captain #I will be so embarrassed if I wasnt watching closely enough #and this is all explicitly text no one thought to comment on because duh #but I didn't see it in the tags and I think I might explode just thinking about it #I have mooooooooore thoughts and you will hear them!#ghosts season 5

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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How's about follower kallamar with a squid reader that is the head doctor and a former follower of his

On the day of your indoctrination...an ugly plague was currently infesting he entire cult. It definitely wasn't the best first impression.

You saw so many sick followers shuffling around, trying not to throw up (although some failed miserably) as they went about their daily tasks.

Lamb excuses themselves to go yell at the healthy followers who didn't bother cleaning all the puke lying around, before sending the sick to their beds and shoving thermometers in their mouths.

And of course, an elder decides to die right next to the goddamn shrine...resulting in those still hanging around to vomit at the sight.

Once everything's slightly under control, Lamb rushes back to officially welcome you into the cult, but you're not impressed at all.

"You promised me sanctuary, Lamb. But all I see is illness and death here...was I right to trust you?"

"....you can blame your "bishop" for all of this......I promise this is a safe haven."

You give them the benefit of the doubt, considering they did save you from being sacrificed to Kallamar.

But when asked why his followers chose you, you explained that you're actually a doctor who treated a lot of sicknesses back in Anchordeep. Sore throats, stomach bugs, flu, pox, etc. You were seen as sort of a miracle worker.

Unfortunately Kallamar saw your skills as a threat to his power, insisting only he can perform "miracles" and decide who's worthy of healing...and his fanatics were inclined to agree.

Luckily, your new leader allowed you to take on that role once again without fear of persecution, and you got the plague under control practically overnight.

You've implemented a system where every follower got a regular checkup. Even if they looked or felt fine, it's better to be safe than sorry.

When Lamb started bartering with ???, they gifted you a gold immortality necklace to ensure you didn't die of old age (seriously, they needed your medical expertise).

You already had a skull necklace, but were grateful nevertheless.

Ironically, Kallamar became the most troubling patient when he arrived into the cult, getting sick right off the bat just from his spiraling anxiety.

He hid behind a tree upon seeing you.....and Lamb found him, literally having to drag him over to your medbay (now a small building instead of a single shrub hut) and order you to treat him.

Great Ones forbid he caused a plague as both bishop and follower. They weren't going to tolerate that.

Ofc, he was hesitant to say anything to you, but after quietly treating his stomach ache and changing his bandages...he breaks down sobbing on the cot, begging for forgiveness.

"I-I was wrong. You do..s-so much good work. You were thriving, performing all these miracles, and....a-and I tried to take that all away....why heal me?"

"Kallamar, I'm not holding that against you anymore." You reassure him. "You're free of the Blue Crown's influence. I know you didn't really want me dead, did you?"

"..n-no, my...followers suggested it. Cult morale was low a-after what happened to Leshy and Heket so...I had to do something!"

Whether that revelation made you feel better or worse, you find it in your heart to forgive him, never denying him treatment even if others in the cult disagree.

You wanted to help him. One squid healing another.

To this day, he still feels bad visiting your medbay, but with time he becomes more comfortable approaching you whenever he gets sick.

Soon enough you find out one of the primary causes of his stomach pains.

It's cauliflower stew (while there's a 5% chance of sickness for everyone else who consumes it, his is always at 100% for some reason).

As it turns out he, ironically, has a severe cauliflower intolerance.

Poor guy never knew that was a thing.

#clanask #anonymous #cotl x reader #cult of the lamb x reader #follower kallamar #kallamar x reader #cotl kallamar x reader #headcanons #tw vomit #hurt/comfort #platonic

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sofasoap · 10 months

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Lastochka AU : Strange taxi driver

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish)

Summary: New city, new life, new job. What else can go wrong on the first day? AU to my Lastochka series

WARNING: Mature Theme. Crack Fic. I repeat. Crack fic. don't take it so seriously. Swearing, alcohol use, dangerous driving ( drive carefully people).

A/N : The idea stemmed from this post talking about Lyft driver and thank you to @nrdmssgs for nudging me to write a crack fic about it.

masterlist

What a luck.

Or lack of.

You must have forgotten to pack it and bring it with you when you moved. First, your luggage showed up a week late. Second, your new landlord totally forgot you were arriving. Leaving you standing in the cold and rain for hours. Third, you forgot to adjust your watch and clock to the local time (“who uses old-fashion clock now?!” your brother laughed at you once.) and you had the phone on charge far away from your bedside, alarm ringtone set on minimum volume. So now, you are running late, VERY LATE, for your first day at your new job.

Definitely not how you imagine how you start your new life in a new place. And the rideshare you called for, is nowhere to be seen. App keep on glitching out. You couldn’t even see what number plate your supposed ride share car is. All you know is a black car. That's it. Fucken absolutely great. You thought. You are probably going to get fired even before you started at this rate. A black coloured sedan suddenly pulled up in front of you. Without checking the details you quickly piled into the car, assuming it's your driver..

“Oh Thank heaven you are here. I am starting to get worried because my app keeps on shutting down on me.”

“.. Where to?” The driver turned around and asked with a distinctive accented and amused tone.

Your hand stopped half way clicking in your seatbelt. “Don’t you have it on your....” you mumbled, What kind of odd question is that? Shooting your head back up with alert after a split second, you dart your eyes to all windows, there are no stickers or any sign of this car being a rideshare or a taxi.

“You are not my rideshare.” Chill ran down the spine with the realisation. For all you know you could have just hopped into a serial killer's car. Oh heaven. Should have stopped listening to those true crime podcasts before you go to sleep. IF you manage to live until tonight. Or survive the next hour.

“I am not.” he chuckled. Flashing a smile before turning back to face the road and pulling out from the kerb, you cursed yourself not jumping out of the car when you had the chance as you heard the distinctive click of car door locking.

“But don’t worry. I have extra time in my hand anyway, Lastochka, I will take you anywhere you want. So,” He purred. “Where to?”

You gulped and gave out your work address. There's no turning back. “ I am running late for work.. My first day at my new job as well. At this rate I am going to get fired before I get there or I am going to have a big warning and bad impression with my new boss....” You rambled on. Why are you even telling him this?

“Don’t worry, I am from Russia.” He reassured you with a cocky confidence.

You scrunch your nose with confusion, what is that even supposed to…?

Even before you can finish that thought in your brain, you felt the car surged forward, G-force pushing you right back into the seat. Letting out an undignifying scream as your hands search for anything you can grab onto for dear life.

“Relax, Lastochka, I never had anyone die under my watch.” he laughed. Taking a sharp turn before weaving in and out of the traffic. “Although I had someone falling out from the helicopter after we got shot at with a rocket launcher.” he nodded his head as he recounted the story. “Don’t worry. Happy ending. We all survived. Thanks to my brilliant skills.”

You are now ninety-nine percent sure you have hopped into some sort of mobster or mafia’s car.

Whole life starts flashing in front of you as you mumble incoherent goodbyes to no one in particular. Ma and Pa. Your annoying but doting brother Johnny. His teammates who treat you like their own. The dog you used to see walking by your house every morning …the rows of pot plants you have on your window sills. Who’s gonna water them after I go??

The car comes to an abrupt stop while the brain is trying to decide the flower arrangement of your imaginary funeral in your head.

“I did say I will get you here on time and still alive, right?” The baritone voice breaks you out of your daze. You are still alive. Thank heaven.

With your hand over your chest, trying to soothe the thumping heart, you look at the clock on your phone. Damn. he is right, five minutes to spare.

Then you heard the sound of his mobile phone shrilling and car door unlocking. “You better get going, it seems I am going to be late for my own business. Time to pick up the package.” He winked as you half stumbled out with your messenger bag dragging on the floor. “It was a pleasure to have such a beautiful little bird in my car. Maybe we will see each other again someday?” Giving you one last wave, he sped off into the distance.

Hell no. Once is enough.

“So you just jumped into a stranger's car and let them take you to work?” Gaz half gasped and laughed as you buried your face in the pint of beer he passed onto you. “You know you could have just rang or message one of us to get you out of deep shit.”

“I know it’s stupid. Don’t remind me. I was so overwhelmed with panic I didn’t think of it at the time.” you huffed. “You should be surprised I am still in one piece right now and telling you the story.”

“What stupid thing you've been doing again, Mini?” you felt a hand ruffling and messing with your hair as you jumped at the contact.

“Hello to you too Johnny.” Ignoring his question, you elbowed him lightly before turning around and giving him a hug. “Where’s Simon and Price?”

“Simon is outside havin’ a smoke.” pointing towards the bar serving area with his thumb, “Captain is over there waiting for his drinks and catching up with one of our old friend.”

Downing the rest of your beer, you stood up from your stool, “I should go and say hi to him. You boys want another drink?”.

Half skipping towards the bar after taking the order from the two, you were in a better mood after seeing your brother and friends, determined to put all the misfortunes and strange events from this morning behind you.

There you see Price, sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender making up his drink for him and his friend who he is currently having a quiet conversation with. He spotted you over their shoulder and gave you a quick wave.

Odd. you thought to yourself. Why does the back side of this … old friend of Price look awfully familiar?

You stopped dead on your track when the person turned around and flashing you with the familiar smirk.

“Hello again, Lastochka.”

Fucken. Steaming. Jesus.

Tag list: @homicidal-slvt @nrdmssgs @siilvan @roosterr @preciouslittlecreature @floral-force @jynxmirage @cumikering @gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot

@glitterypirateduck @whydoilikewhump

#cod nikolai #nikolai cod #nikolai cod x reader #nikolai cod x f!reader #taskforce 141 #nikolai reboot call of duty #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #call of duty #nikolai cod x female reader #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty mw 2022 #mini mactavish #mini mactavish universe #sofasoap writes #crack fic

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cutpaperbleedswater · 2 months

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Re reading Catching Fire has gotten me thinking.

Peeta as a character is pretty tragic, his mother’s abuse and his father’s silence, knowing that the people who he cares about probably don’t feel the same and is under the impression his death would mean very little to them. In the first games, he and Haymitch both pick Katniss to be crowned Victor at first opportunity and spins a love story that humiliates her but if he were to die, she’d be able to get with someone (Gale, from what Peeta thinks) after a few months, he made a deal with the Careers which is high level foolishness if without a bigger goal. To find himself dying, caked in mud, probably thinking about how Katniss isn’t seeing him like this and then find, oh wait, she is, because that’s an option now and the fact there’s a chance he could win too. I stand by the thinking he went into the arena with no want to get out of it only to find that he did, because let’s face it, Katniss did the most controversial Selfish/selfless on the planet and risked both their deaths for him after he was ready to snuff it for her. And then after all that, finding his lower left leg had to be amputated and taught how to handle that, walk into the final interview with a small illusion that Katniss likes him and walk into his new home knowing it was all a lie, just Katniss doing what she thought best for her and hers and then freezing him out in the months leading up to the Victory tour, wherein which I doubt Peeta had many visitors, maybe his father/brothers and perhaps Delly and he’d definitely offer up his home for his family only for his mum to say good riddance and herd them home. I have low doubts that he’d spend ‘Gale Sunday’ with the Everdeens and maybe bring a sketchbook to Haymitch’s if he felt far too lonely. Not to mention the nightmares where he was armed with only his paints.

Then in the second games, he makes a deal with Haymitch to save Katniss, which he does, only for a group of people Peeta had never thought existed. Haymitch giving Katniss the impression that he was going to save her and us reading it from her perspective makes it feel like even what he wanted to be his last moments, his wishes were ignored even after the amount of stress on his selflessness and how he did deserve a moment of selfishness. Then dying, figuring out Katniss loves him by a good old r+ kiss, murdering someone whilst looking for her and then being captured and tortured. Really the only time he got what he wanted was when he was taken instead of her at the risk he suffered at, and her living at the first games ofc. The idea of him doing everything to show her his improvement, holding out the can of lamb stew in the Capitol, working hard in court ordered therapy and actually returning home is actually sweet when you realise the direction it could’ve gone. Also his whole family dying without closure is pretty sad too and the fact he was a very friendly person so he would’ve somewhat personally known plenty of the bombing victims. Also the fact the only time he’s truly looked after is when he’s too crazy to acknowledge it.

He’s my baby. Suzanne Collins is an angel for creating him for us.

#the hunger games #peeta mellark #everlark #i love dissing this kids family #He’s so sad tho #My oh my could I yap for England #I’m glad he got his happy ending

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rorywritesjunk · 3 months

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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. I also gave him some anxiety and stuff because while he’s in love he doesn’t believe someone could love him back. He just has a lot of uncertainty with romance. A/N: Meet the Family plus one that isn't really nice. I finally caved and was kind to Buggy when it comes to romancing Sunny. End of the chapter mentions sexy times but nothing graphic at all. I just realized maybe I should take pity on the fool.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 16

Buggy couldn't fathom the amount of cousins you had.

They were broken into four age groups apparently. The 18 and older, the 12 year olds to 17 year olds, the 6 to 11, and the babies to 5 year olds.

The five and under thought Buggy was so cool and wanted to touch his face, hair, ask if he knew tricks since he looked like a clown, and when he resorted using his Devil Fruit to pick a grabby three year old up and hand the child to you, they thought he was even cooler.

The 6 and 11 age group felt they were too old for clowns and weren't really impressed that he was a pirate captain, but when he used his abilities to get their kites out of the branches of a tree and even some toys that ended up on the roof, they decided he was okay.

The older two groups mostly judged him because he was marrying their favorite cousin (you were somehow everyone's favorite in the family and Buggy fully supported that). Some of the male cousins tried to give Buggy the whole “you hurt her you die” talk but he wasn't actually intimidated by that at all for once. Found it to be more annoying than anything.

He would never hurt you in any way.

The female cousins thought you could do better, honestly, though they did ask what his hair care routine was when they saw how long and wavy it was (Buggy refused to tell).

All in all, meeting the cousins went better than expected.

He still had to meet your aunts and uncles. You told him it should be a little less stressful than the cousins, but when your dad mentioned the hot spring that all the uncles would be going to with some drinks, he insisted Buggy come along. You weren't there to help so he had no choice but to go with Blue.

It… it was weird. Buggy somehow was surrounded by all of them, each staring at him as they enjoyed their drinks. He didn't even try to drink yet, too nervous watching and waiting for one of them to ask something but they just stared at him.

“So, our little Sunny is engaged to a pirate captain.” One of them finally said (Buggy couldn't even begin to remember names right then). Buggy could only nod, unsure if this would lead to additional questions or what.

“How long have you been a captain?”

“How long have you been a pirate?”

“You better take care of our niece or else.”

Almost the entire hour spent in the hot spring went like that. Buggy barely spoke despite being in the spotlight. Blue actually did most of the talking even though he really didn't know Buggy well, but it sounded like he asked Sunny similar questions and got some answers and well, Buggy appreciated it. He had no problem being front and center when he was on his ship but off it, surrounded by this family, he was out of his element and hating every second of it.

A tiny part of him was starting to regret agreeing to coming here with you so early into the engagement since that had become a focus of a lot of conversation, but when he headed back to the main house and saw you with your cousins, holding the ring up that he gave you with a big smile on your face, he realized he could tough it out. It had only been a few days so far.

“Buggy, follow me.” Blue said as he put his hand on the young pirate's shoulder and steered him into the house. “I don't know if my daughter told you, but after Windy and I got married, we became jewelers.”

“Huh…” Buggy only nodded, not sure why that mattered. He was led into a tiny workshop where Blue turned the lights on, giving Buggy a view of everything.

Various tools, materials, stones, everything you would need for that kind of business filled the space of the small room. The worktop has dents, scratches, some scorch marks, showing years of love and hard work. There was a bright red cloth with two rings resting on it. Buggy picked one up to look at it, almost dropping it when he saw a tiny little engraving of his jolly roger on it.

“What is this?!” Buggy demanded, wondering if Blue was copying his jolly roger for some reason.

“Well, after you two showed up and told us the happy news, I started working on wedding rings for you both.” He chuckled, suddenly looking nervous and uncomfortable. “My wife sketched out the designs and I've been working on them the last few days as a surprise, but I realize now that that's silly because you probably have something better for the two of you.”

No, no he didn't. Was Buggy supposed to? He figured the engagement ring would be enough but was having a separate ring for marriage a thing? He was also thrown off by the fact that these rings were made in such a short amount of time. It was thoughtful, touching, but Buggy didn't know what to make of it. He set the ring back down and looked up at the older man.

“We… have to have a ring for marriage?” That was the question on his mind. He didn't have rings yet, he only had the (stolen) engagement ring so hearing that there was also supposed to be a wedding ring on top of it was a little much.

To his relief, Blue just chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. “Only if you want! You're a pirate, I'm sure you have your own traditions anyway. I just wanted to give you a gift for taking such good care of Sunny this last year. I figure you're someone special by the way her eyes light up when she talks about you.”

Buggy scowled as his cheeks burned. That wasn't the case, you took care of him. He didn't do anything worthwhile to earn the love you have for him. Why would you tell your father something different? He didn't say anything, looking back down at the rings. They were a simple band, practical for working on a ship, but he wanted something a little more to it.

“If you already have something, I understand! I know this is a bit sudden.” Blue assured him. “And if you don't like them, I'm okay with that too!”

Buggy hesitated. It was thoughtful but it was missing something.

“No, they're… fine.” He told him, jaw clenched as he looked down at the rings. “Can you just add one thing?”

“Yea! We can have the wedding while the whole family is here!”

Buggy spat out his drink while you choked on yours. Your mother's sister, the second oldest, heard that you wanted just your parents and someone to officiate and well, she didn't like that idea. She wanted to see her niece get married, why couldn't everyone enjoy it?

“We'll find an officiant, we have the space to have your fiancee's crew join us so long as they behave and we can make the reception the big family dinner we always have!” Your aunt Stormy continued. Buggy was against the idea, was ready to say so, but you took his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“We just want to keep it small.” You told her, glancing over at Buggy. “The reception can be a party, but… we just want a small wedding.”

“Nonsense. You have a huge family, Sunny, and we want to see you get married.” Stormy said, shaking her head. “We won't take no for an answer.”

“‘We’?” You repeated.

“The rest of us aunts and uncles want to see you get married. It's not fair if we don't.” Stormy chuckled. “You're the first of the kids to get married, it's only right that the rest of us get to see it.” She glanced over at Buggy. “I imagine it will be quite a spectacle going by how your fiancee… is.”

“W-What-”

“I don't know what that's supposed to mean, Aunt Stormy, but the wedding will be small.” You told her, fixing your aunt with a look that told Buggy that the conversation was over. “Me, mom, dad, Buggy, and some of his crew. That's it.” You tightened your hold on Buggy's hand. “Please excuse us.”

You didn't wait and dragged Buggy away. He noticed you were tense after that, but you also jumped to his defense before your aunt could make any other jabs at him. Spectacle? What kind of spectacle was she expecting?

You dragged him into the house, relieved no one else was in there. Everyone was outside socializing. You took his glass and put it in the sink with yours, huffing in frustration. Buggy was both a little nervous but intrigued to see you frustrated, especially since it wasn't directed at him.

“Of course she would go against our wishes.” You muttered as you started washing the glasses. “Makes it all about herself. She just wants a reason to dress up and will end up making it about her. We are not having a big wedding. I don't want it.”

“Babe?” Buggy asked carefully.

You looked up from what you were doing, frustration in your voice when you asked, “What?!”

“D’you want to… take a break and go to the ship?” He was hesitant to even suggest it, figuring you'd rather spend time with your family than with him, especially since you have spent so much time with him already. You stared at him in surprise and he started back pedaling immediately. “I mean, this is your family, and I know you want to spend time with them, so I shouldn't have even suggested that, babe. Forget it. We can stay. I don't need to go, y’know, I just wanted you to, uh, have…a break?”

“No, no, Buggy. That's a good idea.” You told him as you dried your hands. “We just have to sneak down to the water. Who knows what my aunt is saying about the wedding now.”

Oh, that was a good idea? He was pleased with himself, smirking at you as he leaned on the counter. “Yea? Maybe we come up with other good ideas while we have some alone time.”

You grinned and tossed the dish towel aside. “Oh, and what kind of good ideas do you want to come up with, Captain?”

“We’ll just have to see, won't we?” He looked quite proud of himself for being flirty without something happening to him for once. “I'm sure we'll come up with something, babe.”

Something was you and Buggy in bed, naked and tired, both of you not sure how long you were in there for, both too distracted by each other to really care about time anyway. You had initiated it after Buggy made some joke about getting naked and you didn't hesitate in stripping down in front of him, grinning at the blush on his face and how wide his eyes got up on seeing you naked for the first time.

Now he was a little hesitant. You had said you weren't disgusted by his body upon knowing of his Devil Fruit powers, how limbs and parts separated when he needed them to, but he suddenly felt a little self conscious, so you walked over to him and kissed him, pulling at his clothes to encourage him. He never did this before, you had said the same, but like everything with you, he wanted it to be perfect.

He knew what to do from stories he heard growing up from the Roger Pirates and you knew what you wanted from romance novels you used to read to pass the time at the shop. And while Buggy took charge, he listened when you gave him directions on where to touch, kiss, everything. Hearing how you moaned and whined, panting his name between little gasps spurned him to make sure you screamed his name in the end.

And he was impressed he managed to keep it together when he was finally inside you, holding back to keep from finishing too quickly. There would be other times, sure, but this was the first time for both of you, and you were letting him touch you, pleasure you, and he needed it to be perfect for you. He was so in love with you.

And after all that, he was in your arms, head on your chest as your fingertips stroked down his spine while he made himself comfortable.

“We should probably make an appearance before they come looking for us.” You sighed, making no effort to move. “I just don't want to.”

“We can stay here. The crew won't let anyone onboard.” Buggy mumbled back, eyes closed as he sank into your arms.

“I would like that since the second my aunt sees me she'll want to talk about the wedding, which is the last thing I want to do with her.” You kissed the top of his head and closed your eyes. “It's kind of late, we can make an appearance tomorrow morning. I just want to spend time with you right now.”

“Yea?” He lifted his head up, eyes wide in surprise. “You’d rather spend more time with me?”

You opened your eyes and looked at him with a frown. “Of course I would. I love you, Buggy.” Touching his cheek, you gave him a kiss as he wrapped his arms around you. “I love spending time with you.”

“Your family-”

“Yea, I'll see them tomorrow. I want to spend time with you right now.” You assured him. “Get some rest, honey.”

He nodded, settling back down with his head tucked under your chin, closing his eyes as you pulled the covers up over the two of you. He was more than happy to be in bed with you for the rest of the day, just spending time with you, not having to be surrounded by everyone else and their questions about himself and the wedding.

Maybe Buggy could convince you to stay on the ship for the rest of the reunion.

#buggy the clown #sunny x buggy #buggy the clown x reader #buggy the clown x oc #buggy the clown x you #buggy x reader #buggy x oc #buggy x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x you #opla buggy the clown x you

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yandere-sins · 2 years

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Hello hi how are you? could I please request a yandere geralt x sick reader? Perhaps they’re at kaer morhen for the winter and he’s just all overbearing and not letting them outside? Maybe locks them away to keep them from escaping despite the fact that all the witchers wouldn’t let you leave anyway?

Thank you you are an incredible writer! 💛

Thanks for requesting!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

If Geralt didn’t want to let you go before, he sure didn’t want to now.

You didn’t think his attention could be any more suffocating than he already was, but here he was, pinching your nose to make you eat just one more spoon—for the fifth time by now. You’d have screamed at him to stop if your mouth had not been full of sticky, unsweetened porridge. Then again, your throat was aching so much that you’d probably not have made that impressive of a sound.

Even when you sulked or fought before, Geralt would let you do your thing most of the day, content to just be by your side while sharpening his tools or fixing his armor. But you just had to fall sick, causing everything you worked so hard to achieve—mostly the small amount of independence of taking your meals as you pleased and ignoring him—to crumble into nothingness.

At the first cough rattling through your lungs, Geralt had plunged you into a sea of blankets, wrapping you as you struggled against him. The fever didn’t set in immediately, giving you some time to fight him. But it was too late; he had already changed. There was no longer this slightly defeated, puppy-eyed facade he had taken on after you indefinitely kicked him out of your bed. Neither was it the look of concentration he had when fighting monsters or hunting you through the forest. No, this was different. It was a deeply unsettling emotion to see, feeling like worry in the good moments and hysteria in the bad. As if he thought every cough would be your last, a mere cold enough to turn your place of rest into a deathbed.

It was ridiculous. Mind-boggling, annoying, overbearing ridiculous. You’ve had colds before, and given the stress you’ve been under for months, it wasn’t that far off to think you might catch one in the middle of winter. Especially not in the old keep Geralt had brought you to, chained you to the bed with a slit in the wall only big enough to reveal the snow storm outside and nothing else but cold drafts haunting your body. But he stocked the fireplace with fresh wood every few hours, brought you cups of tea and soups for dinner. Aside from missing walking around, you weren’t lacking anything you didn’t dispose of yourself, like you sometimes did with the blankets he offered you, just to piss him off. You weren’t going to die. Clearly, fate had terrible plans for you, but it probably wasn’t death by cold while Geralt was the one watching over you.

However, the unfortunate reality was that you could do absolutely nothing about your treatment. Not least because your fever had been running high for the last three days and your whole body ached so much you could barely move. If you could have, you’d have one hell of a time getting out of all the blankets Geralt forced on you, every limb securely and tightly wrapped so there was no chance of getting out on your own. You’d still have tried, simply because your discomfort was unreal, lying in your own sweat as doctors would suggest, and bruising from never changing position.

All while he kept shoving spoon after spoon of disgusting porridge into your mouth that had no taste on your tongue.

His eyes were dark, maniac. If not for the haze in your brain, you might have felt fear as you looked at him, but you could barely concentrate on swallowing, let alone at the threat sitting by your bedside. One day, he’d be the reason for your early grave. You were sure of it. If not because of his crazy idea of love, then the porridge.

“Geralt!” you croaked out, either spit or food mush dripping out of your mouth as you tried to gain his attention.

Immediately he seemed to snap out of his trance, and you sighed in relief internally, seeing his eyes grow light again, features softening but still showing his worry. The call of his name pleased him, even if he tried not to show it, and he inched closer to you so you wouldn’t have to speak too loud. Even if you hated him pitying you for what he was putting you through, it was good to know you could still talk to him if needed. Reaching forward, he wiped your mouth, bringing his thumb to his lips to lick it off in one disgusting declaration of affection before his hand fell to your forehead, feeling your temperature.

Unable to hold back, you sighed out loud, the coolness of his skin an instant relief to your body and soul despite him being the wrong person to feel thankful for. Nonetheless, you pushed yourself into his hand as best as possible, Geralt being kind enough to stay that way for a few moments more before retracting his hand, frowning. “You’re still burning up,” he noted factually, and you bit your tongue not to make a snarky remark about how you noticed that too.

Your eyes had closed initially, but now that his hand was gone, you forced one open, watching him. Things weren’t great between you. Not like they had been in the beginning. Everything had seemed so amazing in the honeymoon phase where you two enjoyed the time together, him helping you travel to your destination, keeping you safe. You tended to his wounds, and he stayed up to make sure you could sleep protected and comfortable. Kisses under the moonlight and laughter by the fire.

Why did it have to change?

Why didn’t he let you go when you two always knew it was just a travel romance? Why did he force you to continue accompanying him? Made you choose between trying to escape and probably be killed by monsters, or clean his wounds and take care of him, just so you’d be safe in the forsaken forests he brought you to? Lay by your side at night while you desperately tried to sleep, hugging you, smelling you, whispering confessions into your skin? And finally took you to this old, barely inhabited place that no one could rescue you from, chaining you to the bed and forcing you to stay with him this way? All in the name of love?

“I have a suggestion. I think it will lower the temperature.”

His eyes immediately grew dark, and you didn’t have the strength to blame him. Geralt didn’t like your suggestions consisting almost exclusively of “Let me go” and “Fuck off.” But if it truly was love, if he really felt anything for you aside from possessive, obsessive mania, then he’d hear you out. You took his silence for a cue to go on, explain yourself, thinking it might be one Geralt would not be too displeased about.

“Help me out of the blanket and--”

“No.”

Idea shut down immediately you snapped your mouth closed, glaring at him as best as you could even though everything was fuzzy. “You didn’t listen until the end,” you chided. It was as if the roles were reversed. Normally, you’d be the one to interrupt and disagree, even if you didn’t actually dislike his idea. It was just the principle. Just like it was his principle now to care for you as best as he knew.

“I wanted to say we could choose two warm blankets, and you could come here and... cuddle.”

Geralt’s jaw dropped as you suggested something you knew you’d regret soon. He blinked a few times, his eyes lightening with every motion. You could barely believe what you said yourself, but thinking back to all the times he made you choose between evils made you realize you could do the same to free yourself of the pain you were in now. It would be a pain-in-the-ass to correct later if he insisted on sleeping like this in the future. But, that was a problem for future you. Right now, you wanted to curl onto your side and maybe take advantage of his low body temperature to ease your aching.

“I... guess,” he yielded, but by the smile creeping on his face, it seemed like he was the one holding the victory and not you. It made you cringe, but he at least started to undo the intricate wrapping he had done, like a full-body armor of restrictive fabrics, until you could take a deep breath again, your chest expanding in a sort of pleasurable pain.

“Would you like me to wash you?” Geralt asked from your side while you enjoyed your few moments of bliss outside the blankets. Your attention drifted to him, tired eyes fixating on the washcloth in his hand. He always had a bucket with water and fresh clothes prepared, keeping it warm near the fire. If you were honest, a bath would have been amazing, but that wasn’t an option for you. Instead, you nodded slowly, letting him help you sit up and undress you, his rough, calloused hands roaming your body in bittersweet tenderness. Geralt touched, caressed, and moved you as gently as a lover would but as attentive and skilled as a husband.

The warm water dripped down your body, leaving behind more cold than you wanted as the warmth dissipated, freeing you of the feeling and stench of sweat. He started at your neck, down your arms, the curve of your spine. When he was done with the back, he pulled you against his chest to wash your front area, collarbones, and palms. Every finger was gently wiped down as if you were an expensive porcelain doll, prone to breaking but in constant need of attention and care. You neither liked nor disliked the wash. Even when he proceeded to your legs, stretching and bending them for you—which was a torturous strain that turned into a moan from your lips—you still didn’t feel uncomfortable. You knew that even though he had gone entirely off the rails, the crazy bastard wouldn’t do anything to you to hurt you on purpose. He enjoyed taking care of you just as much as forcing you into his fantasy. And as he pulled a fresh shirt over your head, you could have cried from feeling so much better after this cat bath.

Satisfied and content with how you were, you let Geralt lift you out of bed, swiping at the blankets to clear the way for you. Finally, you were returned to your one true love: the mattress. Already feeling less stiff and suffocated by everything and everyone. Your body could finally relax and heal, all on its own, just like you expected, and exhaustion was taking over now that your optimal conditions to recover were met.

You were already dozing off as you felt Geralt’s body spoon up to you from behind. With your nose clogged off, it was hard to tell, but you heard the splattering of water before and felt it dripping on your face from his hair, telling you he washed up as well, which you appreciated. He covered you both in blankets, and you couldn’t count if he stuck with your suggested two, but it didn’t matter so much. All you wanted was to sleep and heal now.

His beard tickled you as he kissed from behind your ear to the nape of your neck. You vaguely remembered opening up to the affection, probably a response from your weakened, sick body in search of any kind of care it could get. Geralt’s words were lost to your exhaustion as it pulled you into sleep, but his arm held you firmly against him, giving you no room for doubt that he was holding you snug the whole time you slept.

“You don’t know the power you have over me,” he whispered, kissing along your jawline. “The things you do to me when you invite me like this. It surprises me every time but confirms what I already know.”

Lucky you who slept unaware. Didn’t hear all the crazy confessions and future plans Geralt had for you. You were content indulging him this once, having chosen the lesser evil to help yourself. But how many chances would you have to coax him into doing as you wanted in the future? How often would fate humor you before it gave your luck to Geralt instead?

“I can never let you go,” he whispered into your neck, pressing his face hard into your soft body until you stirred. Only then did he recoil, instead settling with his face nestled in your hair, taking deep breaths to calm the raging emotions inside of him. The want, desire, need. Wanting to be recognized for all the efforts he made. Desire to have your love just like he had back when you two were just traveling buddies and not captive and captor. Needing more of those delicious moments of closeness you allowed once in a full moon when you needed him to protect you or to care for you because you were sick.

“I love you.”

Madly. Irresistible. Forever.

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sp0o0kylights · 11 months

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Q: Why wasn’t there an Adopt a Jock (lol I wrote this as Adopt a Joke. Sorry Steve.) update this week? (slash sevenish days Idk time is dumb)

A: It was Steddie Big Bang Time! I am so excited to work with both my artists, and REALLY fricken excited to finally be able to give ya’ll a snippet.

They mention Hopper’s death here but its pre S4, they don’t know he’s actually alive.

Eddie

"Tonight is a good night for the other guy, not me, to die."

--What We Do In The Shadows

A scenario for you to ponder:

You are trapped in the dead police chief's cabin. With you are your three best friends, your life-long gay crush, and several children, one of which is supposedly telekinetic.

Maybe two.

You're not sure because one of the demonic plant-penis dogs prowling around in packs outside gave you a concussion.

You have two options available to you.

Option One) you and your loser friends hunker down with your hands over your ears while Mr. Sexy Chest and the children figure a way out.

This option has the highest chance of you and your besties surviving, unscathed.

Option Two) You tell Mr. Sexy Chest that you know how to hotwire cars and can likely get the police truck outside running in an ill fated attempt at impressing his very straight (and very firm) ass.

This option has the biggest chance of you dying, a virgin sacrifice to the monsters in the woods like every horror movie idiot known to man.

Eddie Munson, elbow deep in wires, cursed himself for being a very stupid man.

"Can I just say, for the record, that this is really dumb?" He huffed, wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

The truck had clearly been sitting here since the old man had died. Likely before then, because Eddie had taken one look at the wires underneath the steering wheel and knew immediately the engine was going to need some work before he even bothered trying to wake her.

Steve, who had a hip rested against the truck, turned to look over his shoulder, down at where Eddie was ducked under the raised hood. "You can but it won't make you feel better."

"Great." Eddie said, planting both hands on either side of the engine.

Fucking truck.

Fucking--monsters, and the military and Steve Harrington holding a bloody bat with nails in it casually, like guarding Eddie’s back while he stole a cop car was just a casual Tuesday to him.

It probably was, considering all Eddie had heard.

"Does it help any if I tell you this is actually one of our better plans, and not just because we usually don't get to spend a lot of time on them?" Steve said it like a peace offering, instead of the absolute insanity it sounded like.

Eddie sighed. "No Steve, it doesn't."

"I didn't think it would.” Steve replied and from the corner of his eye, Eddie watched him rub his nose. “It is a little funny though."

He looked like he was trying to hold back a smile, like he somehow actually found them having spent a solid two hours coming up with a plan to be hilarious, and if it didn’t make his entire being glow brighter than the dumb yellow sweater he was wearing, Eddie would have cursed him out.

"God I hate how cute you are." Eddie muttered instead, sticking his head back in the engine. If he could just connect this one wire-!

Then his brain caught up with his mouth.

‘Oh my god I can’t believe I just said that out loud.

"What?" Steve asked, confused, and oh, thank god.

“I said I hated how cut up the wires are. Hand me some of that black tape would you?” Eddie said, sticking his hand up, thanking every deity he could think of that his mouth hadn’t managed to out him.

He’d gotten too far in this backwards, hick town to get murdered now.

Muttered angrily to himself under his breath as he continued to do his best to get Hopper’s old clunker up and running.

He wasn’t sure how this guy had the thing going for as long as he did, but as far as Eddie could tell?

The truck ran on magic and well-wishes, both of which they were fresh out of.

“Come on, come on…” Eddie coaxed, as he finally managed to successfully splice and tape the two wires he’d been fiddling with together.

It wasn’t a solid fix, but it should be enough to get them out of here.

"Dude it's okay. If you're like--freaked out." Steve said abruptly, and where the hell had that come from!?

Eddie slammed his wrench down on the edge of the truck, standing up from the bent over crouch he’d been in so he could face Harrington.

"Steve,” He deadpanned, “I think anyone who isn’t freaked out by all this has something wrong with them."

He got a defensive look in return. "I'm just saying! It's normal! You don't have to brave face it or anything, we've all collectively had a lot of breakdowns over this."

He just got a stare in return.

For a brief second he thinks maybe Steve is bringing up last night. That he’s suddenly returned to his King Shit status, rubbing it in Eddie’s face how he’d had not just one breakdown when the demodogs attacked but another one later, when all the adrenaline had left him with nothing but mounting anxiety and panic.

Except when Steve turns to look at him his face isn’t mocking at all, and--oh.

Oh.

Steve, Eddie realized with abrupt clarity, was giving Eddie the speech he wishes someone had given him.

This wasn't another weird language game or that fake-nice thing people did where they act friendly to get an up front show of Eddie’s weirdness, just to make fun of him later for it.

This is honestly. Plain and simple.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do with it.

“Thanks.” He manages, voice now quiet. “That’s…thanks.”

Steve looks away again, rubbing the back of his neck and god, where was this Steve Harrington in high school? Yeah Eddie had seen glimpses of him in his senior year but what about all the years prior?

The guy before him in jeans and a yellow sweater gave off sad single mother vibes so hard Eddie felt an urge to hug him until all the bullshit went away.

Except the bullshit wasn’t just the seven annoying freshmen, but also crazy monsters and shit.

“She uh, she should run now.” Eddie said awkwardly, tapping the car as he turned to remove the few tools he and Steve had managed to scrounge up. “I won’t turn her on until we’re ready to go though, because we’re boned if we turn her off.”

Steve snorted at that, mouthing “boned” at him and Eddie gave a feral grin in response. Stepped into his space, because how could he not, and clapped Steve on a sweater-clad shoulder.

“Get the kiddos, Stevie. We’ve got an eagle to fly us out of Mordor.”

#this is very unedited #steddie #well this part is pre steddie #this one gets there faster than my normal for once #probably bc the whole things a one shot #hellfire joins the party #steve harrington #eddie munson #theyre stuck in Hop's cabin right now #this is very heavily based off of various comedy horror movies and books #predominantly John Dies at the End series #But also cabin in the woods evil dead tucker and dale vs evil #all the good stuff #also backrooms starcourt but thats later #right now its just eddie cursing life itself as he gets sucked into this shit

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bestygogirl · 4 months

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BEST YGO GIRL: SEMIFINALS

Match 1

please use this as an opportunity to say why you like a character, not why you don't.

Propaganda under the cut!

Isis Ishtar

gorgeous, very caring sister, strong duelist, and the only woman to ever make Seto Kaiba squirm

speaking of shes got such an attitude. "is it your destiny to waste my time?" iconic. never seen before will never be seen again. watch the duel between her va and joeys its so fucking funny

shes excult. shes doesnt flinch in the face of god nor death. seto kaiba and yami marik respect her. shes so sad and so sweet and battle city couldnt have happened without her.

also her parallels with kaiba are what motivate kaiba to give yugi the card he needed to beat marik.

anyway vote isis shes my best friend forever and a real rep for all the 20 year olds who honest to god did not sign up for this bullshit

Yuzu Hiragi

The entire show would not work if the cast wasn't obsessed with her, and they're all right to stan her, literally gets Sora and Serena to defect from Academia with her sheer charisma, beat Masumi at their gay little rivalry, Yugo spends a few days with her and is ready to die for her, Yuya is simply just the loudest about adoring her And why not? She is so clever and determined, doing the most work out of anyone to figure out the myth plot. Actively trains to keep up with the rest of cast. Even when the universe is conspiring against her and trying to keep her down, she fucking headbutts Roger and tells him off or manifests to help save the world in the ultimate girlboss team-up that was the Arc V finale. Truly any dimension without her is worth upending. - The mysterious magical bracelet that isekai's her to different worlds, the Can-Do attitude, the cool poses (fusion summoning), the ADORABLE character design, AND she was 1/4 of a world-saving hero in the past?? If it weren't for the meddling writers, she would have been the main character - yuzu is everything. literally the plot of arc v hinges on the fact everyone who meets her become just as obsessed with her. and they are totally right to do so

#best ygo girl poll #semifinals #yugioh duel monsters #isis ishtar #ishizu ishtar #yugioh arc v #yuzu hiiragi #zuzu boyle

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rainbowcarousels · 1 month

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11 - SephGen for the ship asks 🥹🖤

What their first impression was of each other?

You know, it's funny, I've definitely done first impressions from Angeal and Genesis's perspective but I'm not sure I ever have when it comes to Sephiroth.

I think Genesis's is multilayered because I think the very first time he heard Sephiroth - and I do think he heard him speak before he ever saw him, just a few words that were likely stumbled off script that he probably assumed was designed to be awkwardly charming until he realised Sephiroth is just the epitome of an awkward turtle - that he was in disbelief. It was a challenge to his own mind, like no way, this one person cannot be doing what they say, so when he finally got a chance to see news footage (I like to think it was on one of these old sets so colour distorted and grainy), obsession set in. Because his skill is undeniable. It's captivating to watch.

Then we run into the very real issue that Sephiroth is not what it says on the tin if you get up close. This is a post-First Soldier Sephiroth that has likely learned what can happen if you get attached to the people you work with: they die or they disappear, and the man is a poster child for abandonment issues. I think he's trying to keep his distance at that point and Genesis is perceptive, I think he can pick up on some of that and the mix of the two....well.

If we go by my personal canon for these two? Genesis got floored by his enhancements way more than Angeal did (there's something up with Genesis's DNA that isn't in the others so I think it stands to reason) so Angeal had already met Sephiroth by the time Genesis did. As such, I think he was already on the defensive, picked up on Sephiroth's vibe of trying to keep everything at an arms length and together with Sephiroth's awkward way of treating SOLDIERs in training at that point more like dogs or weapons (GEE I WONDER WHERE HE PICKED THAT UP), they did not mesh well.

As such, I think Genesis got upset - this wasn't the Sephiroth he built up in his head, this was someone detached, withdrawn, someone who did not recognise and foster such talent as he knew he had but rather just corrected it without a social word at all.

The kicker is I think Sephiroth actually did notice he was different - how many baby Third's come in with that kind of magical skill? How many SOLDIERs in general at that point have a specialty with magic? It's used in a utilitarian way and Genesis doesn't function that way at all and I think Sephiroth just doesn't - understand it? I think he's curious about it but he doesn't really know what to do about it. Has no idea Genesis is operating under the idea they're now mortal enemies fallen from the grace of potential friendship. Honestly, he's really only processing every other sentence - he doesn't know that he's ever known anyone who talks that much.

I think it's only on the third meeting, the ones where they're seeing each other on their first missions together, that they come to an understanding of each other. Genesis starts to process who Sephiroth actually is as opposed to who he thought he was, sorting him into categories of what is propaganda and what is actually him peeking through the presses clutches, and there are a couple of moments that I think highlight it for him that actually, this is the real him and he's actually far more interested in this version than any theatrics. If there's to be theatrics in a relationship, it's coming from him ta very much.

From Sephiroth's perspective, Genesis just makes absolutely no sense - he should not be that chatty, that much of a show off, that headstrong and independent and still be effective as a SOLDIER. He brings this effusive fancy to everything he does and it should be a hindrance but somehow, it's not. There is so much beneath the surface that Sephiroth has no real grasp of - he can't grasp his own nuances, let alone anyone elses - but he's curious, then fascinated. He's inefficient, but he's fast and distracting.

I HC that in fact he did manage to distract him long enough to result Genesis himself giving him a good yank out of the way in a fight because he just is trying to put it all together in his mind and he doesn't know how. How can someone be so wild yet so precise? So fast yet saunter about? So emotional and it not a crippling vulnability but somehow, a strength? WHAT IS THIS CREATURE.

It feels a little funny to me that what Genesis is eventually truly fascinated by is Sephiroth being more awkward teenager trying to figure out how to person - in other words, more mortal and human than he appears - while Sephiroth is trying to figure out how some teenager from a little southern village where they make apple juice is somehow fire and chaos incarnate and why he likes that so much.

#i hope this actually answers the question #like genesis is obsessively interested with the idea of sephiroth having seen him because it's not human it's not average #but it's not until he experiences him first hand that there's this clash of who he's portrayed and who he actually is #and it turns out genesis is far more interested in the person underneath the propaganda than he expected #sephiroth is just on the 'oh a SOLDIER with a magic specialty that's unusual' to 'does he have an off switch' to 'how is he...like that'#'it kind of looks like... fun?'#ff7 #ff7 headcanons #ask meme #answered #birdblacksocialclub #thank you for the ask!

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lipglossandsacrifice · 6 months

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Not required to answer this, just some lore I’ve compiled. So we’re lucky both the game and lore pages for Orin Ayo are still up because then I would be fucked, but unfortunately Breakthrough can’t be played unless you happen to find an archived version.

For Dave Ruy though, all you really need to know is that he used to work at a medical supply chain company, which he hated. He dreamed of being able to work with all the big dogs like doctors and nurses, but that dream never became a reality. He grew hateful and resentful of his own life, feeling like it was going nowhere. Then, he began to project that hate onto others, blaming them for all that has gone wrong in his life. With that hate, he sought out a new goal in life. He faked his death, quit his job, and recruited two other friends, Paige Cook and Hue Bickers, to start something bigger than themselves: A cult ran by a new man, Tab. Paige was an electrical engineer while Hue was a programmer, and combined with Tab’s medical knowledge, they began experimenting with a substance called ferrofluid. Their goal was to find a way to immortalize a person’s pain, before the goal shifted to killing those who deserved to die and torturing them for all of eternity. This is where the main them of Orin Ayo comes from. However, it wasn’t fated to last. The first mistake came from Paige when she missed her assigned target and shot Ethan at a parade. She was tortured and I presume she’s dead. Then, Hue got piss drunk and got himself killed by a tiger, to which Tab blamed the groundskeeper and proceeded to torture him until Tab didn’t feel joy from it anymore. He then learned that someone stole his old identity which happened to be stolen by a dude he didn’t like (Derick), so he killed him too (won’t elaborate because it’s in the documents). Then, Tab learns about the apartment fire and the forcing of Kurt to burn the place down. Lastly, Hety Banker, another cult member, went off the deep and and killed Lilac before dying at a hospital. Everything was falling apart, and the people he trusted are either dead or betrayed him. So, he gathers up all the documents associated with the cult and their activities, scatters them by Derick’s corpse to absolve the cult of blame, and then turns himself in. For 2 years Tab stayed in prison before he was given a second chance. The cult had access to impressive technology, and if Tab agreed to use it for good, he would have his own medical research facility he gets to direct so long as he shows complete obedience to the hospital he works under. This kicks off Breakthrough, which takes place three years after Orin Ayo

Orin Ayo game: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/881670502

Orin Ayo Character Profiles: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/904500450

Orin Ayo Lore Document (subject to change): https://docs.google.com/document/d/19xC3qvjp5AcPiMudQer3jacrEeJrMSGoKqALOMH9Vz0/edit

Be sure to check the wiki too, but don’t always trust what’s there. The main thing you wanna look for is James’s full unburnt document. Feel free to pick and choose what you want, I know the story isn’t really written the clearest so there might be things you just wanna flat out change lol. That’s what I do

Feel free to DM me if you got any questions

(ooc: thank u, i'm gonna toss this up onto the blog and then save the link for future reference! ^^ )

#(ooc post!)#incredibox #incredibox lore #(<- like srsly it is just the full orin ayo lore lol)

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starpirateee · 2 months

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oh god. okayyy

so, after a rather lengthy conversation with @scripted-downfall, we came up with this self indulgent ass fic... Because we decided that Wilbur Cross could, in fact, cook, and old habits die hard :)

so.... pasta!

and i swear to god this was supposed to be a bit. a bit! you wouldn't believe that after it turned out to be... 3100 words and 90% of it didn't even involve pasta

Not many people had a second chance at life. PEIP had done enough investigating to be able to at least assume that, if there ever had been… Others. People who had been affected by the entities within the Black and White… Then they were no longer alive. Wilbur- Wiley- was enough of an exception in just that factor alone, but there was something else that set them apart from the potential endless number of others.

They had escaped.

John didn't know how it had happened. Apparently, his agents didn't know about them either. Not their escape or what had happened to them afterwards. He couldn't exactly do much better for himself, but Wiley had appeared on his doorstep in the middle of the night- a mess of blood, erratic breath, and shot nerves -and he had to forge an explanation for himself.

It was close to three am when he opened the door, under the impression that nobody in their right mind would come to him at that time in the morning unless it was an emergency. And an emergency, it was. The moment he opened the door, his eyes darted over the mess that was once his mentor, his friend… Frankly, he couldn't help the grimace that followed.

"Jesus, Wil… What the- What the hell happened to you?"

He had been aware for years that Wilbur Cross was dead. It still took a level of restraint to remember that, especially on days like today, when there was such an obvious reminder that the truth was anything but. Not dead. Not at all. Changed. In appearance, they were almost exactly the same.

Almost being the operative word, of course.

The same tall, thin frame, the same dark hair that grazed their shoulders, just as it always had… But that was about where the similarities stopped. It was still hard to get used to the dead stare, the flicker of green that crackled like lightning, or the way that everything about them was just a little… Off.

Too bright. Too sharp. Too far gone. That was always the problem with them. Always just a little bit too far away from being human… Never quite close enough to pass.

At the moment, they were struggling to keep themself upright. They were shaking, forcing themself to stay in check, or to stay present.

They stumbled forwards, and John held out a hand to catch them. "Woah, shit-"

"Didn't know where else to go…" They muttered in a broken whisper, swiping the back of their hand over their face, and collecting a loose trickle of blood that was running down their cheek.

John frowned, looping his arm around their waist and leading them inside. "No, it's okay. It's okay…" The need to express his reluctance to let them go again felt redundant. Right now, there wasn't much of an option otherwise, he wasn't just going to let them try and find someplace else, no matter what they'd done in the past. "What happened?"

The two of them sat down on the couch. Wiley immediately sank into it, feeling the stiff leather underneath their hands, cool and unfamiliar and… and…

Safe.

They were… Safe here. It was way too quiet, and that was never good- not from their experience- but for once, they had no doubt that this quiet was different. They breathed, felt the way their chest heaved like this was the first time they'd ever done it.

"… Got out."

Why was it that something so simple as getting their mind to coordinate was such a hard task?

They stretched out their fingers, digging them into the fabric of their jeans, acknowledging and desperately appreciating the way their fingernails felt as they dug in just enough to make it noticeable. This- whatever coincidence had landed them on the doorstep of John McNamara of all people- was real. Some insane luck, or a game of chance that they didn't want to think about, had forced them into remembering directions, an address…

Maybe this wasn't chance. Maybe there was something left in the back of their mind that said this was what they had to do.

The thought of that made breathing a little easier. If this wasn't coincidence- if they had meant to find John all along- then maybe they were meant to break the cycle, to escape…

"You got out?" John echoed, making sure to keep his voice soft. Wiley just nodded, and John turned a little to face them. "Out of what? Out of the Black?"

Another nod. "It broke. It- it shattered. Like fuckin' glass, John! And I- I saw a way out, so I started runnin'. Didn't stop. Couldn't stop. I'm clear, John, it's quiet, it's so, so quiet…"

Saying his name felt good. It filled the quiet with something that wasn't that daunting static. Any second now, the voices would come back, carrying with them the painful sparks of colour that set fire to their mind… They'd be dragged back into the unknown, and then all this blood- the injuries they'd sustained from trying to force themself out- would get worse. They knew that much.

For now, though… For this very second in this very location… They were a little safer than they could ever remember being.

John tried to wrap his head around that. What they'd said didn't make a whole lot of sense, sure, but there was something in there that did. Maybe it wouldn't explain why they were so afraid, or what they were running from, but maybe it explained that they'd been nothing but a prisoner for all this time.

He had to forgive himself for not being able to think this through. It was barely three in the morning, he'd never had to be this alert this early before…

"And the blood?" The tesselation of scratches leaving jagged lines in their skin; their face, the back of their hands…

"They weren't gonna make it easy,"

"What d'you mean?"

"I hadta fight." The brown in their eyes that John didn't even notice was there started to shine through. They heaved a sigh, the most sturdy they'd sounded since they'd gotten here. "Doesn't matter. I'll be fine."

"Wil, you're bleeding on my couch, you can't say that…"

"I'm fine." They insisted. And that was true, for the time being. They were fine here. Fine with John. All of that would change when they had to leave, and it was extremely late, so that was going to be sooner than they thought… What then? What happened when they exposed themself again, made it known exactly where they were?

John nodded. He wasn't certain that he believed them, but it was a start, he supposed. If they thought they were going to be fine, then there was no reason why he shouldn't believe them. "You said it was… Quiet. Can I take it that's a good thing?"

"I dunno. Never been this quiet before. I dunno what to make of it."

"Why's it so quiet?"

"I can't hear 'em in my head."

That needed no explanation, of course. John knew exactly what they were referring to, and that they knew more about those entities than he or anyone at PEIP ever would. He found he had nothing to say- perhaps a direct result of that gaping hole in his knowledge. Nobody knew anything about the Black and White for sure, and the one who did refused to elaborate. Not like he could blame them in the slightest for any of that…

Wiley forced a sigh. "That won't last long. They'll be back… Always are."

Whether it was his tiredness talking, or that hopeful part of him that had never believed in Wilbur's death, John didn't know. But he briefly let his impulses take over the cloud of thoughts in his mind, and spoke the first words that settled.

"You can stay, if you want."

"Huh?"

"Look, it's some ungodly hour of the morning, and sure, you might be fine in a couple hours, but you're not now…"

Right.

Now…

The passage of time was so fast here, but that was only because it worked in the first place. They still hadn't so much as comprehended that yet. There was a ‘now’, the present moment. Exactly as things stood in this second, this moment. And in that now, John was making them an offer.

But offers didn't exist. They weren't real. It was always a bargain, something both parties could benefit from, or a deal, where they would have to exchange something. What was he getting from this?

Did that even matter? There must've been a reason why they'd gone to him first, and they doubted it was because he was the only person they knew…

Their eyes met his. They were searching for something, any kind of indication that he was going to say something else- the other half of the deal. Nothing came. John's gaze was soft, almost expectant. He was waiting for them.

"I'd be gone before you can think about it." Was that a promise? If it was, they certainly meant it. Either in that they were going to make sure of it themself, or that they were going to get found out.

John hummed. "I know… I'm not offering for my benefit."

This wasn't a bargain at all. John was seriously just offering his hospitality for as long as it lasted. They faltered, then nodded slowly "… Th- thank you, John."

John seemed rather satisfied that they'd decided to take him up on the offer. That, or… Relieved, maybe? Either way, he only lasted another half hour or so before he bade Wiley goodnight and turned in, leaving them alone with the strange tangibility of the world.

The silence of the night settled in fast. Wiley decided the immediate course of action was to take care of that which John was so concerned about. All things considered, it wasn't so bad. They could definitely remember being in more pain, that was for sure.

They closed one hand over the top of the other, pressing down a little. They were about as real as anything else that belonged in the Black, and the rules of this dimension applied to them just as little. That seemed especially true when they were in it, and that made this particular job a lot easier.

When they lifted their hand again, the scratch was just another jagged white line to add to the others that already littered their skin. It was a little raised, and red around the edges, but such were the messes associated with fresh scars.

Though, getting rid of the feeling of their own freezing cold blood running down their face was always a relief, they had to admit. One by one they sorted he remaining remnants of their escape, until there was nothing left but the old ghosts of what once was, and the memory associated with them.

Suddenly they were so much more bothered about the time. Being here had never done that to them before, but they'd gained a certain vigilance to it out of nowhere. With the time they'd spent getting to John, and with the conversation that followed, they'd already been out of the Black for well over an hour.

Those hours just kept multiplying, adding onto each other until they started to doubt that they would ever be found. John came and went at some point in the early morning, surprised to see them still there, but arguably even more surprised to see that they'd made a full recovery since he'd last seen them.

Seven and a half hours, and nothing. This was by far the best of their luck, which had never been so bountiful before today. They had a sneaking suspicion that they couldn't be this lucky forever.

Nine hours, ten, eleven… They were still startlingly alone. With the need to keep that particular string of thoughts out of their mind, they started to zone out, loosening their grip on the world a little. Frankly, they couldn't remember the last time this was a safe bet, but it had been so long already… Surely if they wanted to chase them down or reappear from the confines of their mind, then they would've done so already.

Unless they were waiting until they thought for certain that they were alone to strike.

Before that could settle, before they started to believe that as a possibility, they faded out. John's space- the four walls they'd been getting used to for the last stretch of time- started to blur off into the vast expanse of nothing.

There was something in the back of their mind that told them they needed to move, to get away from this scene. This was becoming too familiar. They needed to move and they needed to do so quickly.

Feeling the weight of unknowable dread settling in their chest, they rose from their position on the couch and started to wander.

Their footsteps were completely silent against the hardwood floor. That would never do… Something needed to pull them out of this ever changing void, and remind them that they could be so lucky, that they weren't going to have their luck run out on them.

They'd passed into another room. The silence was washed out by the sound of a tiny clock, and several things humming to preserve the life in them. At once, they recalled purposes, a multitude of functions for a multitude of things. Their vision started to clear ever so slightly. This felt blissful. Their singular track mind felt a little more at ease here.

I know what I'm doing here. A purpose. Everything else has one, and so do I. What?

They felt themself reach out. In that moment, clarity was restored. Static faded out, the thoughts subsided, and they had drawn themself back enough to see what was going on.

Their hand was about three inches from John's knife block.

Eyes widened, they flinched violently and forced themself back until they hit the wall. Fuck. Fuck. Falling out of touch with the world was a bad call and always had been a bad call. There was danger in fading out, in becoming what they feared.

Don't let it take over.

Once, they had remembered a name. It used to be theirs, it was the one John remembered. Even if they could never reclaim it, bits of their past were locked in that name, no more than magazine cutouts, worn and faded with age. Those cutouts were often the only thing keeping them from cracking once and for all. The first passage of a song, or the way someone's voice used to sound. With that came instinct. It was never enough, the broken pieces, but they pretty much knew how to keep themself alive.

Boredom and a desperate need to drown out the silence were not… Always included in that instinct, but at the moment they had tools at their disposal, and at least enough in their memory to find something to do.

The knives were an immediate no. It didn't matter what they did, that was going to be readily avoided, if they could help it. Too close to slipping… Way too much of a dangerous call in this situation.

John had ingredients. Funny, there was some passing flicker in the back of their mind that recalled him admitting to not being a particularly strong cook…

They let their conscience take a backseat while those strange instincts took over. Sure, they knew what they were doing- they were fully aware- but there was something telling them they'd only ruin it if they had full control. Everything they touched was destroyed in some way. This was no different.

If they were fully in control right now, the way this instinct was slowly building some old dish they clearly knew would be destroyed too. The worst part of them had a habit of rearing it's head when it wasn't wanted, who knew how far they'd be able to send the ingredients into a state of rot and disrepair?

So, they made themself relax. The constant repetition and apparently ingrained knowledge of these steps made that a little easier. It was almost… Therapeutic. And the longer they stayed at it, the more they found themself capable of neglecting the thought that they'd put a huge target on their back.

There was something about this freedom that was almost blissful, in it's own way.

That's why they were so shaken when that bliss was interrupted from an outside source. The door. Footsteps that stopped all too rapidly. A voice, quiet and confused. A familiar voice.

"… What the hell?"

John.

John had had a weird few hours since Wiley showed up at his doorstep. First, he'd woken up that morning to find they'd made a full recovery from the number of scratches drawing their blood, and then he came home a little early, and had been immediately struck with the unmistakeable smell of cooking.

Domestic bliss wasn't on the cards for him. At a job like that, coming home to someone else- forcing himself into secrecy for the sake of something bigger than himself- didn't seem like his scene at all.

Of course, he hadn't forgotten about Wiley, but he certainly hadn't been expecting… That.

"What the hell?"

Vaguely amused and very confused, he followed the scent down to its source, and found the result to be even more surprising than the idea alone.

"Uh, Wil?"

Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ. A single moment had taken him back some eleven or twelve years. The two of them shared a space, then. For convenience, Wilbur had said, and John agreed. It had been convenient, and had definitely saved them many a midnight phonecall over the ideas they just couldn't shake.

And the only thing that made it even more worthwhile was the fact that Wilbur just casually demonstrated in the early days that he was a fantastic cook. John found the thought of it amusing, but Wilbur had proven as much, and after that, he stopped ever doubting his friend's talents.

Now it was happening again. There were spice pots haphazardly collected on the countertop, and the air was filled with the fresh aroma of tomato sauce. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

Wiley glanced at the tiny clock their lost mind had picked up on earlier, and then dared to turn around momentarily. "John… Didn't expect ya…"

Wiley huffed a breath of laughter that curled back their lips and brought about just another reminder that this wasn't the past it once had been. Too white. Too sharp. Too many.

John wanted to follow that with some comment about being early, but he was completely fixated on the fact that the thing closest to being Wilbur was back in his kitchen making fucking pasta of all things. He blinked, trying to ignore how nostalgic that all felt. "I… Wasn't exactly expecting you to be in my kitchen making pasta… What's going on there?"

Not human.

Not Wilbur.

"Got restless. This was… Instinct, I guess."

"Instinct?"

They shrugged. "Somethin' like that."

#starkid #void offering #am i sorry about this? am i?#no #this is a bit and i am committing to it #getting people on discord excited about pasta 101 #hi :) take my self indulgent pasta fic :)#tw blood #tw injury

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lackadaisy-headcanon-supply-unit · 1 year

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My friend directed me to this wonderful place and I’d like to ask if you could do some Rocky and Mordecai x reader headcanons with a dying s/o? I know it’s sad but angst is my drug

Pour one out for the most addictive yet least damaging drug in existence.

(Since you said “and” I’m operating under the impression that this is a poly relationship. If that was the intention than major power to you, your stoic ace bf and your mad noodle bf CW for obvious death mention and Google Translate use. Also, they’re a gender-neutral reader. If more is wanted for a specific gender, feel free to ask!)

It wasn’t supposed to happen. Maybe you drank too much and got behind the wheel of a car when you should’ve asked for a ride, maybe someone else drank too much and chanced things, maybe someone pulled a gun, maybe you’re just really unlucky and wound up deathly ill. In any case, you’re bedridden and likely not going to leave it again–at least not alive.

Mordecai was the first to find out about what happened to you. Either because you yourself told him or someone else did. Either way, he drops whatever he was doing and runs to find you as fast as possible.

He still tries to stay composed, but there’s an obvious edge to his voice that’s hard to ignore. Other cats mistake it as hatred or distain, but you know him well enough to hear it for what it actually is: fear.

He’s afraid of losing someone emotionally close to him. It’s not easy to break down his boundaries to that extent, you have and now you’re leaving. How dare you.

Rocky was next. Either someone at Lackadaisy lets it slip or someone at the hospital tells him more personally. Either way, it wipes the near-constant manic smile off his face and he practically breaks into the place just to see you.

So Mordecai is snapping at those around him and Rocky has latched on to your hand, refusing to let go. Time alone with them isn’t an option at the moment, so the nurses have to deal with a bristling Tuxedo cat who likely smells like blood and a tabby barely holding it together enough to say a few words.

Needless to say, the first day is awful. You’re in pain, Rocky’s holding your hand too tightly and Mordecai refuses to touch you but looks like he wants to. Neither of them calm down until visiting hours end–though Rocky makes it clear he’ll have to be forced away from you. Mordecai presses a kiss to your forehead and practically picks up your noodlier boyfriend to drag him out the door.

The next day, they’re a little bit calmer. It’s hard to see Rocky look so melancholy and angry at the world, but Mordecai looks more or less like his old self. They both sit by your bedside for a while to talk about things–your last will and testament, where to go from here, what to do with your things.

Well–Mordecai talks about those things. Rocky’s grabbed on to your hand again and leans into your touch when you pet him, careful to avoid the scar on his head. The only thing none of you bring up is the question that hangs unspoken in the air: how long you have left to live.

Eventually, however, they have to go. Rocky reluctantly pries himself away from you and heads out the door first; yet you grab Mordecai’s wrist before he can follow him.

His green eyes are clouded still with fear and it almost chokes the next words before you can force them out of your throat. You’re scared too. You don’t want to die any more than they want you to.

Rocky gets the okay from Mitzi to spend another little while with you and they both alternate between who keeps watch over you: holding you when you cry, helping you eat if they need to, recounting happier stories just to hear your laugh one more time.

The Savoys send a message that they’re going to miss the “jolie petite bombe” of Mordecai’s and that they’re going to take care of him for you.

Some of the Lackadaisy band members awkwardly come to visit if they can, either to talk or just to bluntly say goodbye. Zib himself is a no-show, though JJ says it’s less because he doesn’t care and more because he can’t stand to see a dying cat in person.

You live to see Mordecai distance himself from Rocky, the latter close the gap (somehow) and the two of them agree to stay together. You can go in peace, knowing that your idiot boyfriend has a grounding force and your closed-off lover has someone he can still willingly open up to (fuck knows the Savoys try, but they might as well be taking a crowbar to a welded-shut door with their attempts).

#🖋 mod ille #Headcanon Home Brew #headcanon #Lackadaisy #Mordecai Heller #Rocky Rickaby #drug ment tw #cw death

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