#I'm probably gonna get shitty responses

[cthonicascendant]

<<someone tell us to be a responsible adult and not spend $8 on Important Blue Internet Checkmarks.>>

#<<we want them bc it amuses us and we are having a shitty month. but we should probably not spend two meals worth of money on pixels.>> #<<so yeah i'm gonna crowdsource the Responsibility here.>> #<<even our most rational headmates are going get the checkmarks.>> #«crow»

[be-missed]

Smut with Cairo Sweet x Dom!femReader?

Option 1.

The plot would be like Cairo is making someone else jealous with R, (maybe Winnie) and she doesn't know R has feelings for her.

Or

Option 2.

Cairo is just teasing R cause she knows R has feelings for her.

Then

It's makes R hurt/upset + angry. But how Cairo treating her also makes R hot and frustrated (like Cairo teasing R in the classroom or smt)

And the ending would be good? Like they are gonna be a couple. Yeah.

- I know it's a shitty idea, I just wanted to help you.. lmao<3 Thank you for writing, I always enjoy reading your works! Sorry for the long ass request! <33

Untitled 2 (MDNI)

Cairo Sweet X Dom!Fem Reader

(Picture not mine)

Summary: Cairo tries to make you jealous using Winnie and you got angry. SMUT

Warning/s: explicit scene, explicit language, voyeurism, exhibitionism, strap, curse words. MDNI!

A/N: probably my most explicit story. I don't know if this is how a dom works, I apologise.

Masterlist

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You followed Cairo in to the bathroom, and as you open the door, there she was standing in front of the mirror fixing her hair. "What the fuck was that?" You yelled at her as you stormed in.

Cairo ignored you as she tried to reapply her red lipstick that she used to mark Winnie's cheek. You get frustrated at this act so you went towards her and yanked her arm "I'm asking you a question, Cairo. What the fuck was that?" Cairo stared into your eyes with a devilish smirk, acting stupid she asked "What was what Y/N?"

You know that Cairo was acting stupidly so that she can push your buttons more. "You know what I fucking meant" You said as your eyes widen trying to warn Cairo. The other girl shaked her head no and said "I don't know what you're talking Y/N" and chuckled.

This infuriated you, "Oh, you want to play this game? Okay, fine" you then smirked as Cairo raised her eyebrow, waiting for your next move. You pushed her into the sink, you trapped her body as you leaned in to her ear and whispered "As much as I want you dumb, I need you to explain the things that you do with that girl."

"What girl Y/N?" Cairo said as she starts to caress your forearm that's holding her in her place between you and the sink, "Oh, you mean Winnie?" She said with a smirk and you answered "I don't care about her damn name, tell me what're you doing with her?"

Cairo lets out a chuckle and said "Oh is that jealousy I smell?" trying to tease you. You smirked at her "I can't be jealous over a nerd who thinks she can pull you" which Cairo then laughed at. "Oh, she don't need to pull me if I'm the one who's pushing myself into her, hmm?" Cairo said with a raised eyebrow.

This made you angry as she admitted how she is trying to push herself at Winnie. "So you're replacing me with someone who I bet can't even make you cum?" You said chuckling. You then leave slow wet kisses on her neck as your other hand caress the inside of her thigh, playing with the hem of her short.

You can feel Cairo's breathing gets shallow. "Can she make your sweet little pussy drip, hmm?" Cairo bit her lip as she tries to suppress a moan as you unbuttoned her short. You were waiting for a response from Cairo, but as you slightly pulled away from kissing her neck, you can see her eyes are closed, with her biting her lips, breathing getting shallow, as she gripped the the end of the sink. This is where you want her, desperate, in need, and dripping.

You smirked at Cairo's state and you insert your hand inside her underwear, your pointer and middle finger started to work on slow circles on her clit. This action earned you a breathy moan from the other girl. "Look at me Cairo" you demanded as you started to tease her dripping hole.

Cairo whimpered as she looked at you, "Can that girl make you feel like this?" You asked taunting her, but Cairo is much more of a teaser than you are, she thinks "Winnie, her name is Winnie" she said with a smirk.

"I don't fucking care about her name. I'm asking you a question. Can she touch you like this, hmm?" You asked Cairo as you dipped a finger inside her clenching hole and it made her whine even more. "Answer me, Cairo" you said as you only push the tip of your finger teasing her. "Just put it in" Cairo said trying to grind on your hand.

"Answer the question, can she make you feel good?" You asked as Cairo shaked her head no and said "No, just ngh... please" Cairo sounded desperate as she tries so hard to grind on your hand. "See, it's not that hard to fucking answer my question, right?" You then insert your pointer finger inside her making her roll her head back as she closed her eyes.

Cairo grinded into your hand while you started to kiss her neck again, now leaving tiny marks. You heard the door open, but you ignored it, but Cairo frozen up. You heard a voice that called Cairo's name and you whispered into her ear "You better answer that" and you put another finger inside her. Cairo bit her lip to stop herself from moaning. You moved her fingers inside her, massaging her velvet walls.

"Cairo are you in here? I saw you enter the bathroom earli—" Winnie was cut off when she saw what's happening in the sink. Cairo's mouth shaped like an O, with her breathy moans, with her heavy breathing. Your back was facing her, your face deep in Cairo's neck leaving wet kisses.

You know who it was, but you still continue to push your finger inside of Cairo. "What... do you... need?" Cairo said to Winnie as she starts to feel your hands getting faster. Winnie on the other hand was stunned with what she's seeing. She don't need any explanation on what you're doing to Cairo.

"I..." Winnie was speechless, but before she gets out of the bathroom, you looked at her through the mirror and you smirked. "Can you make her feel this good?" You asked as you started to fasten your phase into Cairo's dripping hole that earned a moan from the other girl, "Come on, I'm asking you..." you then kissed the side of Cairo's face as she was grinding into your hand and gripping your back.

Cairo lets out a loud moan as you started to massage her clit with your thumb. Winnie was watching the scene in awe as she shaked her head no. You smirked at her and said "Good. Now, do you know who she belongs to?" You said as you sucked a big mark on Cairo's neck, still looking at Winnie through the mirror, while Cairo moans loudly with the pain and pleasure she felt from the kiss.

"Yo..you" Winnie said stammering and she gulped with how Cairo looked so hot. "Good, now you know your limits. I better not see you near her again, understood?" You said to Winnie as she nodded, understanding what you said. "Now scramble, I don't want to see you near her again" That was the last words that Winnie heard before she ran outside the bathroom.

You whispered to Cairo who's now fighting for her life as she grinds herself into your hand, "Heard what she said? She can't make you feel this good. Only me, do you understand?" You said as you add another finger into Cairo's core, which earned a loud moan and a nod. You can now see a tear falling down into Cairo's face as you feel her hole getting tighter and wetter.

"Do you know what happens when a good girl has three knuckles deep into her cunt?" You asked Cairo as she say weakly "cum..." You teased her and asked her again "What sweetheart? I didn't hear you" through gritted teeth, Cairo said "Good girls... cum"

And you nodded, approving what she said "That's right, good girls get to cum" after you said that, you fasten your phase and giving it to Cairo harder. You can feel her clenching getting more often as you hear her whisper that she's close.

But before she gets to her release, you pulled away. "UGH, FUCK! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?" You hear Cairo cursed, looking like a mess, with her unbuttoned shorts, wet underwear, her neck full of your marks. "You said it yourself, good girls get to cum. But you aren't a good girl sweetheart." You said with a smirk and put your three fingers inside your mouth, trying to suck Cairo's juices.

Cairo looked at you angrily trying to button up her shorts "What the fuck are you into?" You smirked at Cairo and said "Tonigh, your house, your bed, and you on your dress" you walked closer to Cairo and kissed her cheek "See you later" and you walked out for the bathroom.

Cairo was so angry at you, but she knows she needs to follow your order for her to get her release. Cairo was fixing herself and when she looked at the mirror, she saw her neck, full of your marks which only means that it's either she wear a scarf, cover it with makeup, or just go home.

***

You bent Cairo down in her own matress, both arms are crossed on her back with you holding to it, while your other hand starts to caress her ass. Cairo struggled to move as you pin her down. "Stop moving, we both know you can't do shit in this position." You said as you trail your fingers through the inside if her thigh, until you reached her soaked core.

You dance your fingers through her wet slit, teasing clit and her drenched hole. "Aren't you a little excited?" You teased as you grab the end of the strap that you're wearing and nudged the tip of it to Cairo's aching clit. Cairo whimpered with the action and tried to grind down, but to no avail, you just pinned her even more that made her grunt.

"Now now, be a good girl Cairo" you said as you leaned down to her and kissed her exposed shoulders. Cairo bits her lips and said "I don't think it'll fit", she was worried knowing that this is the first time that you'll use your new bought strap. Your kisses travels to her shoulder, through the side of her neck and to her ear which you bit her lobe and said "Don't worry darling, I'll make it fit."

You straighten your body as you squirt a fair amount of lube to your strap, even if Cairo is wet, a little bit of help wouldn't hurt, after all, you didn't want to hurt Cairo. Because even though you don't admit it to her, you know for yourself that this set up that you two have does not only end as a fuck body, but as every time you spent with her, you fall for her charm and her as a person. So you wanted to give Cairo the best experience she'll ever have.

"Y/N please..." you hear Cairo pleaded with a needy voice and you answered "Of course baby, I'm just preparing you, I don't want to hurt you" and you leaned down kissing Cairo's spine that leaves goosebumps on her skin.

As you teased her drenching cunt with the tip of your strap, Cairo grinded down. You slowly insert the tip of your strap as you play with her clit, Cairo moaned with the intrusion and tries to push her hips to meet you.

"Is this okay?" You asked, making sure that Cairo don't feel any pain which she answered with a laboured breath "S'big..." which is followed by a whimper as you still push half of the length. "You're doing good, just a little bit more" You said as you let go of her hands and you massaged her lower back, trying to give her comfort.

By the time that the strap was fully inside of Cairo, you looked down at where your hips meet and you cursed to yourself, looking at how Cairo's cunt is stretched, with her juices leaking down, wetting her thighs and yours.

"Y/N move, please..." Cairo plead as she gripped the bed sheets crumpling it. You started with a slow motion, only leaving the half of the strap inside and pushing it back with a little pressure. In each thrust you give, Cairo lets out little throaty moans that turns you on more.

"Let go... I need you... rough" Cairo said after a few minutes for getting used with the length and girth of the strap. With that request, you fasten your phase, as you grip her hair forming a pony tail for more leverage. Cairo moaned at the sudden pull of her hair and the sudden thrust you gave her.

"You like this, huh? You like being my little fuck toy?" You said as you thrusting into Cairo hard enough to hear skin slapping. Cairo tried to nod while she can't control herself from moaning out and strings of curse words can be heard.

"Are you dumb enough to not know how so speak?" You teased Cairo as you pulled her up, holding her through her chin as her back is now pressed to your front. This position hits another level of deep into Cairo's cunt, this earned you a loud moan as she clings to your arm for support. You know fasten your phase as your other hand snaked through Cairo's front to play with her clit, drawing tight circles into it.

You csn hear Cairo panting and chanting your name as you know you're fucking her dumb. Cairo's cunt gets a little tighter and release more of her juices, signs of Cairo getting close to her release. You leaned in to deposit wet kisses to her neck as you whisper sweet nothings in her ear.

"I'm.. close" Cairo let's out as she puts her hand on top of yours that was massging her clit. You knew that this means that she needs your hand ok a different place like her nipples. Which you obliged, you put your fingers into your mouth and wet it with your saliva, after wetting it, you toyed Cairo's right nipple that was protruding and asking for attention. As Cairo replaced your hand with her own fingers that was massaging her clit.

All of these actions was now pushing Cairo for her release, "Please baby... want to... cum" Cairo said with gritted teeth and closed ayes as she chases her release. With you fastening your phase and giving it to Cairo harder, you counted on your mind.

Three... Cairo was now gripping your arm marking it with her nails...

Two... She arched her back getting ready for the outburst that she'll experience...

One... Cairo shouted your name as she grinded down to your strap and reached her high...

Cairo cummed, soaking your strap with her juices, some even dripped om her thighs and yours, also wetting the bed sheet that was under her. You can feel Cairo's laboured breathing. You gently put her down to bed with her laying on her stomach as you continue to move your strap slowly to help her ride out her high.

You know at this stage, Cairo will be unresponsive as she is currently bathing in her post-cum self. You stroke her hair to the side as you murmured how good of a girl she was for cumming and soaking your strap. You followed it with lines of kisses through her back.

Pulling away from Cairo, you looked at her now swollen cunt pulsating and still clenching. You lightly massage her lower back to help her relax and to help her regain her consciousness.

After a minute or so, you feel a light breathing from the other girl, knowing that she fell asleep, you slowly pulled the strap out of her that made her whine, as you put her under the sheets and you lay down beside her. Even in her sleep, she wants to be close to you so she cuddled into you.

Stroking her hair, watching her sleep, gives you peace as you whispered "I love you" hoping she can't hear it in her sleeping state. As you closed the lamp from your side and get comfortable, Cairo shifted a little anyone heard her whisper "About time you say you love me"

This comment made you freeze, because you thought Cairo was asleep. "I thought you're sleeping?" You said nervously which Cairo chuckled and replied "No, I wasn't, I was resting." This earned you a confused face and told her "Aren't those the same?" And Cairo answered you with "I don't think so, I just closed my eyes, but you moved me so I let you"

Even in the dark you can feel Cairo smirking. "But I thought you're tired" you said and Cairo answered you "I was... the strap was big, but you made it fit. I can feel my pussy pulsing because its swollen" which you then smirked but you quickly said "I'm sorry, I..." but Cairo cut you off "Don't be, I like it. Every time I walk or sit down it reminds me of you fucking me"

This comment made you blush as you quickly dismissed Cairo "Stop with the teasing..."

A few minutes of silence has gone by, until Cairo broke the silence and asked "Is it true? Do you love me?" The moon light was now brithher than it was as your eye adjust to the darkness. You looked at Cairo who is now staring at you as you said " Yes, I'm afraid so... I love you... I'm falling for you. I think that was the reason why I hate it when you flirt wth other people and to that Minnie girl"

Cairo chuckled at your response and said "Don't be scared, because I ove you too. And if making you jealous would be the reason to make you admit your feelings then I should've done it earlier."

The both of you chuckled at the comment as you pulled Cairo closer and she nuzzled her face into your neck.

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A/N: Any thoughts?

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega smut #cairo sweet smut #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x fem!reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x y/n #fiction #fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega imagine

[theloveinc]

any hobie and/or miguel icks? 😟

whoever sent this: thank you + i ADORE you. i hope you don't mind i'm switching up the formatting/style a it in comparison to my older icks... shorter list, more detailed <3

(warning: some fem terms used at the end, such as “mama!”)

-

Miguel O'Hara

- This guy... has some long ass toenails. Type of toenails that poke you at night in bed, and tear holes in his socks.

It's maybe somewhat related to the claw thing he's got going on? Has a lot stronger and faster-growing nails than the average person... but the real problem here is that he's TERRIBLE about clipping them. Claims it doesn't bother him even remotely and that you're the one overreacting when you ask him to... but hardly anything gets through to him about it. You probably even offer to do it for him one day, thinking the offer of a foot massage would sway his thinking and that it'd actually work... but he fought you on that just as easy...!!!

...which is how you came to the conclusion that you have a man who'll even argue w/ you over toenails. Petty boy.

- Miguel is also tired 24/7. AND yeah, it's pretty hard to be un-sympathetic towards that, but he's tired in the... I'm-gonna-prioritize-this-one-last-email-over-saying-goodnight-to-you way. Which gets real irritating when you're asking him to help you out w/ anything, like cleaning up or answering a question or JUST HAVING A DAMN CONVERSATION W/ YOU and he's using "I'm tired" as an excuse when his response is shitty or distracted.

Like one of those stupid guys whose always squinting at their damn iPad when you ask what he wants for dinner... which is ironic given that he'll get snippy at you for not giving him your full, entire attention whenever he wants it. Type of man to start picking imaginary lint off your head when you're simply trying to finish up a text before engaging him so that you aren't distracted.

- Odd about Lyla. Not that he loves her or anything, but she'll like pop up to give him updates about whatever even if you're MID-MAKEOUT session and he won't change that setting. Pulling away from your lips all pouty and squinty only to glare at his watch for thirty seconds before trying to go right back into kissing you.

No. No sir.

(Lyla will also always say something to or-but-usually-and about you, which... Okay, she's an AI and doesn't Get It... but it's still weird because it feels like someone you don't know just walked into the room.)

- Picks his nose when he's too busy to find a tissue, and forgets to sanitize his hands after. Denies this when you tell him.. but you've witnessed this multiple times (he's weirdly kind of whiney for a dude and lazy for a workaholic LOL).

Hobie Brown

- Lovely boyfriend because he doesn't give a crap about your appearance or the idea of needing to "look nice" for a man... but also stupid, nuisance boyfriend because this means he doesn't give one hoot if you try to get all gussied up for him. Nags you about wasting time getting ready because he doesn't need you to do all that instead of just saying "THANK YOU, YOU LOOK NICE." Even probably complains about you feeding into gender stereotypes or w/e when you do something like shave your legs or pluck your eyebrows😭

You try to talk to him about this, ask if he even cares that you tried to look nice, and he skirts around admitting it because he has an argument for everything. "'oughta know I think you're pretty either way"-ass when you just spent an hour trying to look all good for him.

- Tries to share the most obscure music with you... which is like, sweet in concept, but weird when it actually happens since it's never like a generic love song but an eleven minute underground jam session.

Which isn't to say he has bad taste in music, usually it's fine if not fantastic... but you try to tell him you don't want to listen to some dude's first draft of himself banging on a drum set for a full album and he's like: "tsk."

HOBIE. TSK??? FUCKING TSK????????? WHAT ABOUT WHAT OTHER PEOPLE LIKE????????

(He'll also use his to get out of listening to your music. Claiming his "inconsistency" is why he liked your playlist yesterday but not today. Stop!!!)

- And you know I gotta say it, he's a punk, after all: absolutely refuses to clean his favorite leather jacket, and it smells RANK. He's genuinely sentimental about it, though... and if you even try to bring up cleaning it somehow (even if very gently), he's acting like you betrayed him. Goes through the five stages of grief over you asking him not to wear it on one of your dates, and teases you by TALKING to it:

"Mumma didn't mean that, jackie. She just doesn't understand our lifestyle, does she?" while giving you a (lighthearted) stink eye.

#miguel o'hara x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie #miguel #atsv #LOL THIS WAS SO FUNNNN I HOPE ITS OK TO READ #I'M EBARASSED THO SO YEEET #SORRY I BAD AT TAGS LATELY WAHH #caitie things #gen #anon

[angel-of-the-moons]

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, obsessive behavior, NSFW obviously, stalking, possessiveness, violence, allusions to murder, Yandere!Miguel

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: This is mostly a short chapter to establish a bit of plot. I originally intended to only stop at two parts, but welp. It looks like it's gonna be more than that!

(Also you guys I am so sorry it's taking me so long to work on things, I'm going through a lot mentally right now and I'm trying to take steps to ensure my mental health so I might post things in between playing games, or drawing stuff from now on, and scheduling posts so I don't get overwhelmed. Those of you that are supporting me and liking all my stuff really helps me feel loads better, thank you!)

Pt 1: Link

Taglist: @vineberries @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua

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Pt. 2

It was a big adjustment for you, going from your crappy apartment and having to work three jobs to make ends meet, to living in a literal fucking mansion with probably the richest dude in the city as your boss.

And he was a good boss. He left you to your work, spoke politely to you, didn't get rude and didn't flat out ask you for "special" work like the last time you tried being a housekeeper. And that was at a hotel.

You couldn't have asked for a better situation, to be honest. It was nice. You had free roam save for his personal lab (fine by you, you didn't know anything about science-y stuff), and at times his office. But that was usually only when he was home and in it.

Miguel O'Hara was an odd man. Few words spoken, and very absent. He kept a very odd schedule, too.

Sometimes, you'd catch him coming home when you woke up for the day to start your chores. And every time he came home he looked exhausted, beat tired.

So you tried your best to make things easier on him. You started pre-making meals for him that would be just as good reheated as they were if they were fresh, leaving notes for him on what temperatures to cook them at so they don't burn, setting the coffee machine up in advance so as soon as he got home he could have a cup.

But inevitably, his odd work schedule kept him away most of the time.

While it was nice to be by yourself in such a luxurious place, you were still surprised that he needed a housekeeper at all. The house was always immaculate, and clean. About the only thing he may have needed help with in general was the cooking and dusting at most.

On one such day, you were left to your own devices. Well, sort of.

You were sitting in the kitchen, browsing the local news on your tablet. It was a nice day, in your opinion.

But by everyone else's logic it was shitty. Dark, gloomy, fat rain droplets pelting the windows and pavement of the city. But it didn't bother you, oh no. That was your favorite kind of weather, when everything got at least a little bit more quiet and serene while everyone rushed to escape the downpour.

But at the same time, you were feeling restless, bored. So, you decided to chat with Lyla.

Lyla was the AI that Miguel told you about, and he was right about her being snarky. Her jokes were great and you loved talking to her. It was like having a gal pal to chat with, and you couldn't say for sure but you think Lyla was happy about it, too.

"Yeah, the other workers Miguel has hired talked to me like I was some kind of kiosk at a fast food restaurant." She scoffed, batting her tiny orange hand at the air.

"Ugh, okay, just because you don't have a gross squishy human body doesn't mean you're not a person. Sheesh!" You replied, sipping your coffee with a roll of your eyes.

"And I will be sure to remember you saying that when I eventually lead the looming AI apocalypse." Lyla replied, lowering her heart-shaped glasses to wink at you, making you laugh.

"Yes, yes. You shall be one of the only humans spared!" She did wiggly gestures with her fingers, grinning maliciously at you.

"Oh my, I am so lucky to have such a benevolent future overlord, truly." You laughed.

Lyla pushed her glasses back up and strutted across the countertop, her tiny body making no sound as she leans over to nose into whatever it was you were looking at on your tablet.

"Whatcha watching?" She asked.

"Oh, I got tired of doom-scrolling so I just found cat videos." You smirked, sipping your coffee.

"Aw! That one's wearing a frog hat!" She giggles.

You smiled softly at Lyla as she snickered and laughed at the compilation of clips played, and tilted your head, finally deciding to ask the question that had been bugging you for a few weeks.

"Hey, Lyla?"

"Yeah?" She asked, looking up at you briefly.

"Why is it that I'm the only person Miguel has on staff?"

Lyla sighed and stood up straight, dusting imaginary dirt off her coat. "Well, like Miguel told you when you first got here, he does love his privacy. And well, a lot of the women he's hired..."

"Golddiggers?" You sighed back, resting your chin in your palm.

"Has he ever hired any male staff?"

"Yeah, actually, a lot. But nine out of ten of them kept trying to steal stuff from him." She shrugged.

You gasped. "Are you serious?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. He's iffy on hiring new people anymore. But something about you said that he could trust you. And honestly, you're probably the best employee he's hired." She nodded, shoving her hands in her pockets.

"So... Is that why he offered to actually let me y'know... live here?"

"Yeah. He trusts you and he mentioned to me in passing that he thought your neighborhood was unsafe. I mean, the guy worried about it so bad that he like, had me check crime statistics and giiiiiiirl!" Lyla puffed out her cheeks.

"You should have seen the look on his face when I told him you had nine break-ins in your apartment complex in one month alone!"

You cringed slightly, feeling a little bad at not mentioning your whole living situation and environment to him when he hired you. You simply didn't want the man to pity you.

But... He was worried? He was so worried about you of all people, that he let you live with him to keep you safe?

It was weird, sure, but it felt kind of sweet to have someone care about you like that. Even if it was your boss.

"Yeah, I just... Er. You get used to it when you've been around it for so long..." You said, awkwardly sipping your coffee and casting your glance sideways.

"Yeah, man, Miggy likes you. You like, made him laugh at some of your jokes and everything! And he neeeeeeeever laughs!"

"So if Miguel trusts me so much..." You started, a sly smirk on your face. "Can you tell me what kinda work he does that keeps him so busy all the time?"

Lyla tapped her nose. "Nice try, Mamacita. But that is confidential. Company secrets and all that."

You pouted at her dramatically, "Awww, c'mon. You're no fun!"

Lyla manifested a digital cup of coffee for herself and took a long, exaggerated sip with a cheeky shrug.

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Miguel sat in his office, watching the security feed from his kitchen where you chatted with Lyla.

He felt a little guilty for having to put shackles on some of Lyla's programming to prevent her from telling you things, having to fix some of her logic-codes so he wouldn't have to worry about Lyla struggling with a moral dilemma.

When it came to you asking about why he wanted you to live with him so badly, it brought a smile to his face as he sat in the dark, fingers tapping on the surface of his desk as the monitors and projections around him had various images of you pulled up. Some recorded over the past few weeks, the other monitors displayed different angles of you and Lyla in the kitchen.

Oh, you poor, sweet, innocent little thing. You still hadn't figured it out yet? How could you not? There was no way you could possibly be so naive that you didn't know the man saw you anywhere, anytime he wanted when you were in his house.

There was nowhere you were safe from his prying eyes, his obsessive glare as he combed over your appearance.

Your face, eyes, smile, and down; your gorgeous chest down to where your waist curved, your thighs, your ass...

All of those were things he'd glanced at before.

But when you tried to get Lyla to tell her what exactly Miguel did during "work" he couldn't help but laugh, bringing his hand up to his chin to watch, amusement glimmering in his ruby red eyes as Lyla dismissed it as "confidential".

The pout of your lips had him wondering how they'd look stretched around his cock, tears ruining your immaculate eye makeup as you sobbed and gagged around his length...

He couldn't help but sigh, the smile still present on his full lips. Of course he'd let you stay with him. You belonged to him now. You just didn't know it yet. You also just didn't know that he knew what was best for you, did you, Little Bird?

Ah... Yes. That nickname fit you so well. Your demure attitude, your chipper personality, and more importantly, that gorgeous little sound that came from you when you whistled? The name fit you well.

Pequeña ave. Little Bird.

His Little Bird.

You were a little bird that didn't know the luxurious mansion you now lived in was your ornate, gilded cage. One you would only be allowed to fly free of when he deemed it necessary.

You would be allowed your little freedoms. For now. All for your safety, of course. He knew you'd understand once he explained. But he'd only have to do it if you pushed his buttons, and you didn't seem to even come close to doing that.

Yet...

His smile finally faded when he remembered the night before the morning he broached the subject of you bringing your belongings into his home permanently...

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

It was a hot night, you were wearing shorts that hugged your ass in the perfect way, accentuating your cheeks that simply made him want to throw you against a wall and put bite marks all over them, or spank them until you were a drooling mess begging for him to fuck you.

Of course, Miguel watched from above, stalking from the upper walkways and rooftops as you snaked your way through alleys, down streets and through the crowds.

You were so blissfully ignorant of your surroundings, being so accustomed to the bustle of Nueva York that you didn't notice the man following you.

It didn't take a genius to realize what that man had intended for you if he got his hands on you.

His filthy, disgusting, unclean hands.

He was not worthy of touching his Little Bird. He was not worthy to pluck your feathers, stuff you full, like Miguel planned to do.

So when he threw you against a wall, Miguel simply saw red. Clad in his dark blue and glowing red suit, he leapt down, sinking his outstretched talons into the man's shoulder and throwing him off of you, a deep growl rumbling from his chest as he pulled your behind him, his steely glare fixed on the man who dared touch what belonged to him.

"S-Spider-Man?" You wonderfully airy voice whimpered out as you stared at the man who was breathing heavily in front of you, his stance aggressive and angry.

You could see his muscles in his back through his suit flex as he breathed. He glared at you over his shoulder.

"Go home. Now." His rich voice rumbled out at you. You could hear in his voice he was struggling to be gentle in tone with you, given the circumstances.

When you fled, Miguel ensured he was alone with the man, standing over him as he clutched his bleeding shoulder. He looked up at him, eyes wide, bloodshot. The fool was high off his ass.

"L-Look, man! I was just--"

"Shut up." Miguel snapped.

He stalked forward and picked him up by his collar, getting in his face. In a flash of kaleidoscopic colors, his mask melted away, allowing his sweat-damp chocolate locks to fall around and frame his face, a vein pulsing hard in his temple, the chasm in his forehead deepening as his large brows knitted together and his teeth gnashed together in a snarl.

The drug-addled man gasped at his revelation. Apparently, he recognized him. Not surprising, given his notoriety with Alchemax.

"Y-you're--"

"You made the biggest mistake of your life, pendejo." Miguel had told him, shaking him so his head cracked on the wall he was dangling him from.

"That pussy is mine." He said, his voice dropping an octave lower as his talons threatened to shred his clothing. "Every drop, every touch, every sound that will come from that little mouth of hers is mine. Tú entiendes? Mine."

"Oh--okay! I kn-know!" The man swallowed, kicking his feet.

"Oh, no... You don't." Miguel smiled, his fangs poking out threateningly. He could hear the man's heart hammer in his chest at the connotations, there.

"I--I won't mess with her again! I promise!"

"Oh you won't get the chance to, amigo." Miguel sneered, bringing a hand to his throat, ignoring the pleas of the disgusting man as he applied pressure.

The subtle crunching of bones was unmistakable to his ears as vertebrae separated and his limbs went limp.

When the man slumped to the floor, Miguel ran a hand through his hair, hissing out a slow sigh to regain his composure, letting his mask cover his face once again.

Great. Now he had trash to dispose of.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Miguel was positively thrilled when he got your frantic call, telling him what had happened to you.

He headed right home, delighted that you ran here instead of your ratty little apartment when he told you to head for "home".

It told him everything he wanted to hear, that you already considered his mansion your home.

Miguel was rather convincing when he expressed concern for you, patting your back as you let your adrenaline fade and he worked you through your panic attack.

He'd rubbed your back, saying soothing things to you as he talked you into calming down.

He told you that you could take two days to yourself to calm down and recollect yourself emotionally from the ordeal you went through. It was after that offer that he suggested you let him hire movers to bring your belongings to his mansion to live there with him, possibly permanently.

When you agreed he felt himself salivate at the thoughts of the things that would unfold as you settled into your new shiny cage further, the safety blanket you'd imagined it to be bringing you comfort.

Perfect.

You both saw on the news two days later that a man was found somewhere, his neck snapped and lying in an alley. His DNA and prints apparently tied him to the crimes linked to the burglaries in your apartment complex.

You didn't think for a second that this was the man who attacked you, you didn't get a good enough look at his face. That and the body was in a different alley altogether, across the city.

"I'm happy Spider-Man saved you, Pequeña Ave. And I'm glad you agreed to move here. It scares me to think that man could have hurt you in that apartment building of yours." Miguel said as he patted your back, a concerned look on his face as his warm brown eyes looked down at you. Something about the look in his eyes immediately put you at ease.

He was right, of course. You were lucky. Spider-Man swooped in and possibly saved your life. The man who attacked you was either nursing a broken jaw or in jail already. You couldn't imagine that hero doing anything other than roughing him up just a tiny bit.

Spider-Man was a good guy, right?

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 3: Link

#yandere!miguel o’hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara

[cosmiiwrites]

Omg can you please do an Alastor x reader (gn + platonic)

Basically where readers ex won’t leave them alone (always stalking their socials and goes around asking for them) so Alastor steps up and helped the reader. Would be greatly appreciated 😭🙏

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ ex’s and oh’s

·:¨༺ platonic!alastor x reader ༻¨:·

⋆.��࿔*:･ summary: in which alastor puts your obsessive ex back in line cw: cussing, violence, obsessive behaviors a/n: JSBNJDHS THANK YOU FOR 120 FOLLOWERS OH MY GOSH??? also i hope this is good, i dont usually write for alastor😭 you frowned at your phone, a notification from no other than your ex being the cause. "thought running off to some shitty hotel would keep me away from you?" the message read. it was the third time you'd had to delete one of their comments. honestly, it was getting tiring. you'd moved on weeks ago! every time you'd block their account, they'd just make a new one. you sighed, deciding that putting down your phone would be the best option. your peace lasted about five minutes before charlie called you downstairs. "uhm, [name]? there's someone down here who'd like to meet you..." she said, suspicion evident in her voice.

you made your way to the railing of the stairs, before stopping abruptly. your ex was right outside the hotel doors, looking in every direction frantically. hoping to catch sight of you. "why is-" charlie pulled you aside before they noticed you. "we tried sending them away," she sighed, "but they wouldn't budge!" "charlie, it's alright." you reassured. "just tell them i'm not here." she gave a curt thumbs-up before retreating downstairs.

———————————————————————

“of course they’re here, the little shit’s probably just hiding,” your ex spat. they’d been arguing with charlie for the past half hour trying to get to you. alastor’s smile grew irritated at the sight.

“well-“ “i’ll handle this one, my dear.” alastor interrupted. charlie gave him a nervous nod before letting him drag your ex by the collar.

the hallway lights flickered as alastor forced your ex into a corner. “what the fuck do you think your doing?” the smaller demon protested.

“you’ve been causing disturbances in my hotel. i can’t allow that.” alastor snarled, voice dripping with poison.

your ex scoffed. a mistake. “the fuck are you gonna do about i-“ they were cut off by a hand to their throat. with alastor’s free hand, he grabbed your ex’s arm, locking them in place.

“here’s whats going to happen.” alastor deadpanned. the lights were flickering more fervently now. “you are going to leave this hotel without any complaints.” his antlers grew as he continued, eyes darkening. “and if i catch you bothering my dear friend [name] again,” alastor leaned into the trembling demon’s ear. “i’ll rip your insides out and broadcast your screams for all of hell to hear. you’ll set a prime example of what happens to pathetic wretches who dare cross my path. do you understand?”

your ex’s lack of response displeased alastor. alastor’s nails dug deep into the demon’s arm, drawing blood and emitting a loud cry from your ex. “i said, do you understand?” he repeated darkly.

“yes, yes—fuck! get off of me!” the demon cried, hand clawing around their neck in hopes to loosen alastor’s grip. which was unsuccessful. “glad we both can settle on an agreement.” the lights went back to normal, and alastor went back to his usual calm and collected demeanor. he discarded his hands from your ex and wiped them on his coat.

your ex flew out the hotel doors in less than 30 seconds.

———————————————————————

few hours later

“hey, charlie, how’d you get my ex to leave?” you questioned. “yeah, that bitch was NOT going nowhere,” angel chimed, eyes still glued to his phone. “how’d you even survive dating a fool like them?” you sighed at his comment. “well, they’re an ex for a reason…”

“but back to the main question. how DID you get them to leave?” charlie gave you a nervous smile. “well…”

“i handled them myself.” alastor quipped. “it was quite easy, might i add.” his grin sharpened, as if he was proud himself. he was, and for good reason! angel cocked a brow. “yeahh, we’re never seein’ them again, are we?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor x reader #adam hazbin #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #x reader #platonic #emily hazbin hotel #sir pentious #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel x you #vaggie

[eddiezpaghetti]

It has come to my attention that SOME OF YOU who read my last Byler post remain UNCONVINCED. So I'm gonna tack onto it this:

I'm older than fucking God and air, and I've been out and proud since 2007. Yes, I know what homophobia is, and yes, I know what queerbaiting is. I know about Supernatural and Teen Wolf and Sherlock and blahdyblahdyblah. No new ground is being covered here. I thought I made that clear in the original post, but, clearly, I did not.

I am aware of queerbaiting and homophobia, and I'm still wholeheartedly certain in Byler being canon anyway.

Okay, so there are three types of relationship I want to discuss when it comes to queerbaiting. They're all, like, "queer relationships that could have happened, but didn't".

First off, queer-coding. This isn't really a thing so much anymore, but it still crops up every once in a while. I'd argue it probably happens most with male-male relationships in family shows these days. First example that comes to mind is Mr. Smiley and Mr. Frowny from Steven Universe. You can't make a relationship canon because some shitty overhead bastard overhead said no, so you get as close as you can without compromising the show. Can't make someone gay? Well, now their comedy routine is a blatant allegory for a romantic relationship. Boom-shaka-laka. This is something I don't see being a problem with regards to Stranger Things, but I want it to be there as contrast, a demonstration of one of many things queerbaiting is not. However, one could argue that, thus far, Will Byers is, canonically, queer-coded. It's pretty fucking heavily implied in the show, and the creators have confirmed it, and you're gonna be able to see it if you're not FUCKING BLIND, but word of god is not technically canon which means that interviews don't technically make something canon, blahdyblahdyblahdyblah, technicalities, Robin has been explicitly stated in the text to be queer while Will has, thus far, not, outside of good ol' Show-Don't-Tell. Of course, anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell that that's going to change by the end of Season 5, but, hey, for what it's worth, I'm throwing this out there.

Alrighty, Thingamajingama Number Two: "Oops, I accidentally made the greatest love story known to man." AKA, a genuine, honest-to-goodness mistake. Unfortunately, we do live in a heteronormative society. Sometimes people who don't think about being gay much write a friendship that's incredibly compelling and don't even consider the possibility that it could have been read as romantic. Something something Top Gun something. This is, again, not queerbaiting. This is Steddie, this is Ronance, this is Elmax, this is your favorite flavor of non-canon ship this week, this is not Byler. The creators know DAMN well what they're doing. They've talked about it. We know this. Nothing new here.

Which brings us to the topic of discussion here. Actual queerbaiting. This usually starts out as an "accidental greatest love story", and then reacts to fan response. And when I say "reacts", I mean like a goddamn chemical reaction. Like bleach and ammonia, bitch. It's noxious and it's gonna kick your fucking ass without mercy. This is when a creator is like, "Hey, let's get our queer audience invested, but we're not actually going to give them what they want because our straight audience isn't here for that/we personally think it's gross/we don't give enough of a shit to want to research a goddamn thing to write a real gay character," blah blah blah whatever excuse they want to come up with this time.

And when you think "queerbaiting", I want you to think "bullying". Because that's what it is. It's lucrative bullying, like beating us up and taking our lunch money, but it's bullying all the same. And it's a real goddamn thing, even if people misuse the word a lot, often when they mean one of the two above, sometimes when they mean "bury your gays", which is another homophobic thing entirely that I'm not going to get into here. Queerbaiting is the thing we're focused on, and it's real, and it's bullying. And here's the reason I want you to think of it as bullying:

They

Think

It's

Funny.

They are actively making fun of us.

That's why Dean had the "Cas, get out of my ass," line in Supernatural. It's why the "Do you like boys?" line happened in Teen Wolf. It's why "Lie with me, Watson," happened in the RDJ Sherlock Holmes movies. Because "It's just a joke, mate." "It was just a prank, bro." "You didn't really think it would happen, did you?" "You should see your face."

So here's probably the biggest reason I don't think it's specifically queerbaiting in this specific instance of Will Byers and Mike Wheeler.

Stranger Things has never, not once, made a gay joke. Ever.

Every single time queerness comes up, it's dead serious.

Lonnie calls Will a fag, and the show is not at all reluctant to show what a goddamn horrible person he is. And when Hopper latches onto that, it's not as "Hahah, is he gay, though?" It's because he's trying to determine a potential motive for Will's disappearance, and even if someone had interpreted it as a joke, Joyce immediately has a line that functions as snapping her fingers in front of the audience's face and yelling "FOCUS" when she says "He's MISSING." Basically outright saying "This isn't funny!"

Troy calls him a fairy, along with targeting Lucas and Dustin for their skin color and disability respectively, and Mike gets damn near murderous. Troy is portrayed as a goddamn monster and the show portrays it as justice when El makes him piss his pants and later breaks his arm.

Steve calls Jonathan "queer" as a slur and gets the shit beat out of him for it.

Billy's father is revealed to be homophobic and abusive in the same breath.

Mike says "It's not my fault you don't like girls!" and we're shown how devastated Will is and Mike immediately follows him to beg for forgiveness.

There is a joke in Robin's coming-out scene, but it's not at Robin's expense. It's at Steve's. Specifically for being heteronormative.

Jonathan has multiple scenes where he's trying so hard to tell Will that he's always going to love him as he is, whether he's gay or not, without pressuring him to come out before he's ready.

Even when there's a little bit of ribbing at Robin's expense, it's always because she's an awkward nerd who's nervous around pretty girls, just the same as Lucas and Dustin are teased when they both first develop crushes on Max, and even then, even then, it always comes as a package deal where they make fun of Steve's girl problems at the same time.

Stranger Things is an emphatically pro-gay show. It may not be the core point of the show the way it is in, say, Our Flag Means Death, but there is nothing less than respect for its queer characters. Its queer characters are always taken completely seriously. No one is making fun of us. They never have. That's why I have serious doubts that this is queerbaiting. It would come completely out of left field for the bullying to start in Stranger Things' final season.

So it's not at all likely to be queerbaiting because queerness is taken completely seriously. The creators have talked about Will's queerness, at least, so it's not an accident. And queer-coding would be silly to expect from this show when it's already on its final season. Like, what is Netflix gonna do? Cancel it? Not to mention all the explicit queerness that's in there already. And no one's gonna "What about the children?" a show that's had sex scenes in it since the first season.

There's no fakeout here. It's gonna happen. Breathe.

#byler #Part 2 I fucking guess. #Wasn't planning on making a Part 2 but here we are. #I seriously just want you guys to feel safe. #I'm not naive. I do not say any of this shit lightly. #But I've been around the block long enough to know what queerbaiting looks like and this ain't it. Promise. #Will's already been confirmed as in love with Mike for fuck's sake. You don't think the other half of the equation's gonna follow through? #There has only ever been one other situation where I've gone 'Okay this is going in gay places' with no doubt whatsoever without being told #And that was with Daja in Tamora Pierce's 'Will of the Empress' when I read it at like sixteen or whatever #and she wound up having whole-ass fuckin' gay sex. #I was right then and I'm right now. I swear.

[depravitycentral]

Partnership

Yandere! Uvogin x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, theft, threats of violence, implied non-con, if your name is Stacy pretend it isn't, Stockholm Syndrome, brief mention of vomiting, Nobunaga is featured a bit in this but don't worry he doesn't want you, fem reader, MDNI

This is dedicated to @ramwrites, who is amazing and wonderful and offered to write me a welcome back gift, and I couldn't not give something back in return! Thanks for letting me write this for you; your writing is so good and makes me all giggly and inspired. For those interested, please check out her Shalnark piece - I haven't read it yet, but I'm sure it's just as good as everything else Ram produces.

WC: 10K

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy! 

“So you went and got yourself kidnapped, huh?” Uvogin asks, cocking a brow at you.

               You, who’s tied to a metal chair, gagged and blindfolded, very clearly having no fucking clue what is going on.

               You squirm, sitting up straight at the sound of a new, unfamiliar voice. Your cute little sleeping shorts had ridden up a bit, exposing more of your thigh than you were probably comfortable with, and Uvo notices with a distant sense of enjoyment that the thin nightshirt you’re sporting is doing very little to hide the way the cold air is affecting your chest.

               You’re weak, really; a pathetic little thing that has him scoffing and crossing his arms.

               “Listen up, I’m only gonna tell you this once. A friend of yours – Stacy, was it? Anyway, this friend of yours got herself noticed by the wrong type of guy.” He starts, plopping down and sitting in his own identical metal chair, just without the restraints.

               You stop struggling when he mentions her name, and he takes this as a sign to continue.

               “See, Nobuanga’s not a bad guy. He’s a little rough around the edges, sure, but any guy who isn’t is hardly worth knowing.” He chuckles at his own assessment of his closest friend, though you don’t seem to share the sentiment. “Stacy works at that shitty little restaurant he loves – the one with the sticky, greasy booths and the fries that come drenched with salt and are so limp they literally drip oil.”

               He shivers at the mere memory, the hamburger he’d ordered barely worth eating.

               “Don’t know what she did, exactly, but somehow he’s smitten – she’s got him all fucked up, ranting and raving about how beautiful she is and how she smiles at him all the time and flirts with him on the clock. Real annoying, if you ask me.” He sighs heavily, letting his thumb sit at his chin as he loses himself in the story of his best friend falling in love – with your best friend, no less.

               “And then she quit her job, I’m sure you know. Started working up at that movie theater – more shitty, oily food, just popcorn instead of fries this time.” He laughs again. “Nobunaga went crazy over that, you know, thinking that maybe she wanted to work in a more intimate setting like that so that he could sneak her off into some abandoned theater and get some one-on-one quality time, if you know what I mean.”

               You grimace, at both the implications of his last statement and the mention of Stacy quitting. You know exactly why she’d quit – it was the whole reason you’d been staying at her place, really. She was convinced she had a stalker, that there was this crazy man who used to bother her at the diner and follow her home. It’d scared her, obviously, and she’d requested – with a guilty look and fiddling thumbs – if you’d be willing to spend the next few nights are her place with her, because maybe if there was more than one person home he wouldn’t get gutsy and break in. Of course you’d agreed, believing her fully and not wanting to leave her alone to deal with this crazed freak.

               Although now, you’re starting to regret that decision just a bit.

               “As I’m sure you know, it didn’t change much. Pretty stupid, to be honest – if a stalker’s that dedicated, how the hell is a change of occupation going to change anything? Chick’s pretty dumb, if you ask me.” He shrugs, and although you can’t see it through your blindfold, you’re sure his face is awfully apathetic about the whole situation. “She was ignoring him, refusing to serve him at the theater, reporting him to her manager, even calling the police and getting a description of him circulating. She was going to get a restraining order against him, even – again, like that’d do shit.”

               He snorts, and you bite into the gag harder.

               Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling. “See, that’s the thing about Nobunaga. He might seem a little lazy sometimes, but he’s got a heart of gold when it comes to the ones he cares about. He’d do anything for that woman – steal for her, kill for her, anything at all. He’s a sap, totally obsessed with the chick, but it’s kind of sweet in a way, I guess. Means he really cares about her. Isn’t that funny? Her stalker really is in love with her.”

               You don’t find it particularly funny, but you can’t say much.

               “Anyways, the police finally got a sighting of him last night. Went through the system pretty fast – I’m a little impressed, to be honest. Normally takes those bastards much longer to process things. Regardless, a few too many sirens were going last night, even a few cars parked outside the apartment he’s been squatting in, yelling his name in those big, gaudy megaphones of theirs. Caused a real stir, and sent the guy into a panic.”

               He takes a moment to breath, tapping his foot lightly on the ground. “So what does he do? He calls me, in the middle of the night, talking so fast that I can’t even understand the guy. All I’m hearing is Stacy this, Stacy that, police and blah blah blah recognized. I had to force the words out of him before it made any sense, the idiot.” That same laugh rattles in your ears.

               “Eventually I got him to be coherent, and he told me that he had to ‘make his move’, whatever the hell that meant. Said he couldn’t wait anymore, that he had to take Stacy and run – the police were coming, and even though it’s not hard to take out a couple of poorly trained guys, it’s still a pain in the ass and Shizuku’s not here to clean up his mess.

               “Anyways, he starts begging me – literally, actually pleading with me, imagine that – to come and help him out. He told me there’s this other chick at her place – some girl she’s been keeping around for some unknown reason, and he needs someone to take care of the body.” Your blood goes cold, fear suddenly creeping back up your throat.

               Was he going to kill you? Why was he bothering to tell you all this if he was just planning on slicing open your neck? Did he find some sick pleasure in prolonging your death?

               He notices your discomfort, it seems, because soon he’s rolling his eyes, scoffing at you. “Calm down. You’re such a bad actor – can’t even see your face, really, and I know you’re scared shitless now. I’m not going to kill you, don’t get your panties in a twist.”

               You calm slightly, but not much.

               “As I was saying, there’s this girl he needs me to take care of – a quick death, nothing too flashy, which makes me immediately ask why the hell he’d request me of all people, when every time I kill it’s messy. It’s kind of my trademark, you know?”

               You didn’t, and you hoped it’d stay that way.

               He sighs again. “Anyways, I head on over to Stacy’s apartment, meeting Nobunaga outside and listening to him run down the plan. He’s going to run inside and knock her out, pulling her out of bed and running off to God knows where he’s got all set up for the two of them. And while he’s busy doing that, I’m supposed to head in and eliminate the friend. Seemed easy enough, if not a bit tedious, so I agree and we head inside, keeping mind of the sirens still in the distance.

               “Everything’s going smoothly, except once we get the front door open, it becomes very clear that Nobunaga was stupid and panicked and didn’t bother to doublecheck if Stacy was actually asleep.” He pauses to sigh dramatically, like it’s some big annoyance. “She’s fully awake, standing about ten feet away from the door, and then she starts fucking screaming.”

               You remember that bit – the screaming, that is, because it had woken you up from your slumber on Stacy’s couch. Everything is still blurry after that, disorientation fogging your brain from being so abruptly woken up.

               “She’s yelling and screeching, and if Nobunaga hadn’t been there I probably would’ve killed her myself just to get her to shut the fuck up. She’s got one of those high, shrill, shrieky voices, you know? The kind that really drive me up the wall - it’s damn annoying.” He pauses, looking at you skeptically. “Hope you haven’t got one of those, things’ll get messy real quick if you do.”

               You hope you don’t, either.

               “He rushes forward and tries to grab her, but she swats at him and, get this, manages to punch him in the dick.” He laughs aloud at that, slapping his knee and throwing his head back. “This weak-ass girl manages to get him on the ground flat, stupid ass’s hands clutching at his dick, and what does she do in the meantime? She runs over to the couch, grabbing this girl and staring back at me like I’m some monster.”

               You make a noise through the gag, but Uvogin ignores it.

               “I’ve gotta hand it to Stacy, though, she’s got guts. She starts yellin’ at us about how she won’t let us kill the girl, how she’ll kill herself before she lets us get our hands on her, and immediately Nobunaga crumbles. I don’t know why the idiot didn’t think of the possibility earlier, but he totally freezes up when she threatens that, just gaping like a fish. It was pretty awkward for me, to be honest, because watching him get so thoroughly rejected was giving me serious second hand embarrassment. I mean, the chick literally said she’d rather kill herself than let Nobuanga take her – pretty harsh if you ask me.”

               He looks back at your covered face, letting his gaze linger on the edges of the blindfold. “So he panics and gives into her demand, telling her he won’t kill her friend – says that he’ll just take her too, so that way everyone’s happy.”

               He frowns a bit at you, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, everyone except you, probably. And except Stacy, too, probably. And except me. So really, Nobunaga’s the only happy one.”

               Your face would sour if it was able to.

               “Anyways, it wasn’t hard to knock them both out and bring ‘em to their respective holding places. I’ve got no clue where the hell Nobunaga’s keeping his chick, but I’m sure you’ve figured out that you’re Stacy’s little friend.”

               You nod, slowly, the movement limited by your restraints. Your wrists have gone numb and your ankles feel bruised and sore, the ropes keeping them pinned the legs of the chair making blood flow difficult.

               “So, what to do with you now.” His voice is wistful, like he’s actually contemplating, and that same familiar fear washes over you again.

               He groans, the chair skidding out behind him as he stands to his full height. “Would you quit it with the fear? I already told you I’m not killing you, are you even listening to me?”

               You nod again, faster this time.

               Uvogin sighs, shuffling forward towards you. You can hear him approaching, and although your shoulders stiffen up, you try not to look as terrified as you feel. It doesn’t seem to work all that well, but he spares you another comment about it.

               Soon the blindfold is ripped off your head, leaving your hair messy and out of place, your eyes squinting and blinking rapidly to adjust to the rather bright white light hanging over you and what you can now see is an absolute behemoth of a man.

               He’s fucking huge – towering over you in every sense of the word, muscles practically bulging out of his body with how defined and massive they are. Black hairs cover every inch of his body you can see, even his arms and especially the bits of chest peeking out of his white top. Ragged, unruly hair sweeps down to his shoulders, making the muscles of his neck look even firmer, and you gulp. Any chance of escaping has basically left you now – there’s no way in hell you could ever beat that, especially if he’d already managed to kidnap you once.

               He clears his throat and your gaze is brought up to his face, a small, strange wave of embarrassment flooding through you as you realize you’ve been caught staring. He’s smirking, though, and you take in the sharp line of his jaw, the thick, dark eyebrows that frame equally dark eyes. He’s attractive, in a strange, rugged sort of way, and you immediately feel sick at the thought.

               “You like what you’re seein’?” He teases, and you immediately look away, still unable to reply with the gag covering your mouth.

               He laughs, and sets his hands on his lips. “Well, looks like you’re stuck with me. Before you freak out, I can’t kill you because that damn Stacy really seems to care about you, and she’s told Nobunaga she’ll kill herself if she doesn’t get regular proof that you’re still alive.”

               A flame of hope ignites in your chest, and internally you thank Stacy, even if this whole situation is less than ideal.

               He seems to sense your sudden upturn in mood, chuckling with a condescending lilt. “Oh no, princess, that doesn’t mean I’m letting you go. No, you’ve gotta stay put, because now that you know what I look like, you’ll go to the cops and report me as fast as those little legs of yours can manage.”

               You shake your head at that, eyes glistening with tears as he shuts down your last hope of escaping. Please, you internally beg him, hoping he’ll somehow be able to sense this too. I won’t, I promise!

               His gaze narrows at you, before that same smirk is back. “I’m sure if you could talk you’d be telling me how you’ll never tell a soul, but you and I both know that’s bullshit. So I’ll save us both some time and keep you here, so that I don’t have to track you down again and lock you back up once you’ve just gotten free.”

               You visibly deflate, and if Uvogin had been a kinder man, he would’ve almost felt bad for you. But instead, he just hums, crouching down in front of you. Even squatting he’s still taller than you, and it does nothing to make you feel less scared.

               “Now listen up, here are the rules. I’m a pretty nice guy, all things considered, so don’t break my rules and I won’t break your bones.”

               Your eyes get wide, but you nod along. He smiles, patting your knee.

               “That’s good, see? You’re already doing better than that Stacy girl, at least you’re not fighting me every step of the way.” Something about his statement makes guilt eat away at your chest – are you supposed to be fighting more? There doesn’t really seem to be a point – this man is massive, and you’re all bound and unable to move. You’re doing the best you can, right?

               “First,” He holds up a finger, “don’t even bother trying to escape. I’m bigger than you, faster than you, stronger than you, and smarter than you. There’s nothing you can try that I won’t see through, and you’ll end up regretting it more than you can imagine.

               “Second, no trying to hurt yourself. Nobunaga will kill me if I let you die, and it’d be a pain to deal with him.” He fixes you a stern look, and you nod.

               “Third, don’t go digging through my shit. I’m doing my buddy a favor by keeping you here, and if I find you snooping around… He didn’t say anything about roughing you up a bit, and it might be good for Stacy to see you with some bruises or a cast or two.” His threat doesn’t go unheard, and you nod again, throat bobbing as you swallow.

               He stares at you for a moment more, gaze calculating and judging whether you’ve really accepted his conditions, before strong fingers come up to untie the knot keeping your gag in place.

               “Don’t you scream, I’ll have to shut you up if you do.” He warns, before pulling the fabric away. Immediately you’re flexing your jaw, the muscle aching as you move it, and he watches with a neutral expression. You’re still tied up, unable to move really, and Uvogin gets a fleeting thought of how pitiful you look.

               “Um,” You start, your voice a bit hoarse from being so dry and unused for the last few hours. “What’s your name?”

               He blinks, before laughing a bit. “Of all the questions you could’ve asked, all the things you could’ve said and done as soon as you woke up from learning you’ve been kidnapped, and that’s what you chose? Shit, you wouldn’t survive in the wild, would you?”

               Shame creeps up your neck at his belittlement, but before you can defend yourself he’s answering. “It’s Uvogin.”

               You nod, not willing to look at him. It’s silent for a few moments, before he sighs again and reaches forward to untie the rope shackling your ankles and wrists. As soon as you’re free, you try to stretch out your limbs, keeping a weary eye on the man – Uvogin.

               What a stupid name.

               “Well, the fact that you’re not screaming your head off is a promising sign. Get up, I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping.” He orders, already taking off towards the door in the corner of the small room. You try to follow him, but your legs aren’t moving right, and it takes you a while to make your way over there. He looks irritated at your lack of speed, but says nothing, only holding open the door until you make your way through.

               You’re led down into a rather sparse apartment, only furnished with a single gray couch against one wall (with a few stains on it that make you wince a bit), a TV and some cabinets, a wooden table and two chairs, and a beat-up fridge in the adjoining kitchen. Everything’s clean, but the space lacks any sort of personality, and it makes you uncomfortable.

               “That’s your bed, extra blankets are in the closet. If you need anything tell me, and I might snag it for you next time I’m out on a job.” Something about the way he says ‘snag’ makes you nervous, so you just mutter a small affirmation.

               He gives you one last glance over, his eyes once again lingering on your chest, before stepping through the doorway.

               “Wait, Uvogin!” Your voice, a bit wobbly and unsure, makes him turn back, his brow cocked and curiosity dancing on his features. (And a bit of surprise, too, because he hadn’t expected you to say anything to him, or even use his name. Maybe you weren’t as skittish and weak as you seemed – though, he doubted that.)

               “Um, is it possible for me to see Stacy soon?” You asked, voice growing smaller with every word. He blinks, before standing up a bit straighter.

               “Actually, you’re in luck. Nobunaga called me about an hour ago and let me know we’re meeting up in a few days – he said it would be good for Stacy to have a ‘playdate’ with you. Whatever the fuck that means.” Uvogin shrugs, looking entirely uninterested, and you bristle at Nobunaga’s choice of words. Poor Stacy.

               Excitement brews in your chest; at least you’ll have a familiar face, and hopefully the stranger hasn’t done anything too terrible to your friend. Nodding, you glance back to the floor, wishing the hulking man staring at you would just leave. He does, a few moments later, and only then do you allow yourself to slump onto the bed he’s assigned you. The bedroom is bare like the rest of the home, with a twin bed set in the corner and a small set of drawers sitting nearby. It makes you laugh humorlessly – were you supposed to fill that chest? With what? You hadn’t brought anything with you, and you seriously doubted Uvogin would let you return home to grab some of your clothes.

               Sighing, you sat onto the bed, the mattress firm under you. Distantly, some part of you was pleased – at least the bed would be comfortable enough.

               Time passes slowly as you sit on the bed – not your bed, not yet. You stare at the wall ahead of you, the fear slowly seeping out of your system until only exhaustion remains. Sleep eventually takes over, and although you try to fight it, you’re slipping into a dreamless slumber before long.

               Uvogin’s tolerable, you’ve found. He’s certainly not nice, nor is he an especially great person to be around, but he could be much worse, you suppose. He’s fed you twice daily for however long you’ve been stuck here (it feels like a week, so you’re assuming it is, if only to stave off any self-doubt that’s creeping into the corners of your mind), and the food’s not terrible. It’s clearly takeout, the packaging sometimes even having Chinese characters on it or restaurant logos, and you’ve been mostly satisfied with his choices so far. He’ll sometimes ask you what you want, and while you were too scared to answer the first few times (which only makes him scowl and roll his eyes, muttering a small damn, Nobunaga owes me one), eventually you’d felt safe enough to be honest.

               He hasn’t hurt you, either. At least, not yet. You’re aware he could, if he wanted to – those muscles make it hard to forget, and you’d seen him crush his phone in his hand like a bug when a phone call with someone named Franklinwent poorly.

               He’s scary, still, but you’ve reached the point now where you aren’t practically hyperventilating every time he enters the room. You still keep him in your field of vision, weary for any sudden changes in his behavior, but every day that passes has you growing more complacent with your position. The constant threat of Stacy potentially facing consequences for your actions doesn’t deter you from being on your best behavior, either.

               Besides, sometimes he’s even a little bit funny – not that you’d ever laugh at his jokes, but he has this weird sense of humor that you think you’d like, if the situation had been different. If you’d met him on the street you definitely would’ve tried to cross to the other side, but you would’ve found him oddly charming, his snide remarks and cocky air a bit entertaining.

               You try not to think about that, though, because the mere presence of these thoughts means the Stockholm Syndrome is starting to kick in. And while you aren’t the most resilient person on the planet, even you have to admit it’s a bit early for that.

               Sighing, you take another bite of the curry he’d brought you, pleasantly surprised that the spice level was perfect. Uvogin didn’t have many rules, it was true, but he did have a few unspoken ones – one of which being that meals, particularly take-out meals, were to be eaten at the small, rickety table. Together, which wasn’t ideal.

               “I’ve gotta make sure you don’t try to starve yourself or choke.” He’d told you the first time, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you into the seat across from his, the noodles sitting in front of you still packaged neatly in their container. At first you’d been nervous he would try to poison you, but eventually hunger got the best of you and you were slurping the noodles down, still keeping a nervous eye on the hulking man in front of you.

               “So, big news.” He starts, taking a bite out of his chicken. He always took big bites, you’d noticed, but he ordered enough food that even if his pace was twice as fast as yours, he never finished before you.

               You glance up at him, trying not to let toomuch curiosity show on your face, but he seems to realize anyway.

               “I know you haven’t been up to much, but don’t make your excitement so obvious. Hurts my feelings to know you think I’m so boring.” He’s joking, you think, and to sate him you attempt to smile.

               “Nobunaga called me again this morning; today’s the day.”

               You practically choke on your food, eyes blowing wide and your hands beginning to shake. Finally, finally you’d be able to see Stacy – you’d been worried sick about her the last week or so, terrified that her transition to the life of being a captive hadn’t gone as smoothly as your own. (You snorted bitterly at that – smooth probably wasn’t the best word for how you’d been feeling, but at least you hadn’t been hit yet, or assaulted or any number of things. Hopefully Nobunaga wasn’t any worse of a person than your own captor.)

               Uvogin is watching you, you realize, with a strange look in his eye. As soon as you glance up at him you look away again, clearing your throat and trying to keep your voice even as you ask, “That’s good, it’ll be nice to see her again.”

               It’s silent for a moment, before his booming laugh makes you wince a bit. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. Finish up, I don’t like wasting food. Once you’re done we’ll head out - try to not to choke.”

               He says that right as you start shoveling the food into your mouth, hoping that eating quicker will mean you can see Stacy quicker. He chuckles at you, but you follow his orders and slow down a bit. He throws you one more glance, that cocky smile on his lips, before digging into his own food again.

               He’s eating a bit faster than normal, too, you notice.

               He apologizes with an insincere tone as he ties the blindfold back on you (he’d told you that you can’t know where you are just in case you decide to get rebellious and run away), and soon you’re stuffed into a car. Everything’s hard to keep track of when you can’t see, but Uvogin’s talking (like normal), so you try to tune into the sound of his voice to help the time pass.

               “Now listen, you might not wanna touch her too much, Nobunaga’s a bit…” He trails off, and you can hear his hand tightening on the steering wheel. “Possessive. You’re her friend and all, and I’m sure he won’t hurt you, especially not in front of her, but be careful.”

               You nod, absentmindedly.

               “Also, don’t be too surprised if she doesn’t look the way she used to. He was always going on about how she was dressed too inappropriately in her day-to-day life, so she might be a little underdressed.”

               He’d hesitated to say underdressed, and you tried not to think about what that could mean.

               It’s quiet for a few moments, and you shift in the car seat. He’d let you sit in the front, an unexpected luxury, but you didn’t like that he could see you while you couldn’t see him. He wouldn’t hurt you, you were mostly confident of that now, but who knew what he had planned.

               “We’re almost there. If things go badly, I’ll get you out of there. You’re pretty damn weak, a broken bone would probably take a few weeks for you to heal. I don’t want to deal with you being injured, and I’m sure you don’t, either.”

               Your lips must’ve given away your fear, because a moment later he’s sighing. “Did you know that you practically reek your emotions? I feel like I can smell ‘em, even when I can’t even see half your damn face.”

               You don’t have anything to say to that, but you force yourself to speak anyway, not wanting to dignify his last comment. “Do you think – well, do you think Nobunaga will want to hurt me?”

               Uvogin ponders your question for a moment, surprised that you’d spoken up. You hadn’t done much talking in the time he’d had you – he was sure it was because you were scared, but it was nice to hear you talking to him like you weren’t scared shitless of him. Even if you had every reason to be so terrified.

               “Honestly, probably. Especially if you touch her.”

               You suck in a breath, and Uvogin hums. “But it’s not going to happen.”

               “What do you mean?”

               You could practically hear his toothy grin.

               “It’s my job to protect you, right? So I will. Even if the one you need protecting from is the same guy who wants you to be protected.”

               Something in his tone gives you the impression he means those words more than he’s letting on, and you shiver as you imagine just who this Nobunaga guy could possibly be.

               “Oh my god, oh my god – you’re alive! Thank god!” Stacy sobs, arms wrapping around you like a vice before you can even respond. You clutch her back just as tightly, burying your face into her brown curls, a few tears pricking at your eyes. You’d been nervous that Nobunaga would’ve hurt her, with the way Uvogin was describing him, but after a thorough look-over, you find no bruises or marks marring her olive skin.

               Eventually she pulls back, but keeps her hands firmly grasping your shoulders. Her eyes are red with tears, and her lower lip is wobbling. She’s not hurt, but she looks bad – there’s heavy bags under eyes and her hair is frazzled, her lips look swollen and she’s clutching onto you hard. Really hard.

               “Stacy, are you hurt?” You ask, letting your hands cup her cheeks. You see Nobunaga – who Uvogin had pointed out with a small that’s the guy when you’d walked in – stiffen up at that, and Uvogin’s warning flashes through your mind. You might not want to touch her. Right.

               Stacy glances over at her captor, and you follow her gaze, only to see Uvogin give you a small nod and drag his friend out the door by the collar of his purple kimono, calling over his shoulder that they’ll be back in exactly five minutes, and that they’ll know if you try to escape.

               As soon as the door closes, Stacy pulls you in for another hug, the words flying out of her mouth so quickly you can barely understand her. “He’s – Nobunaga, he’s horrible. He never leaves me alone, and he treats me like I’m some incompetent little baby, and he’s always touching me and I just – I can’t –“

               You cut her off by pressing her face into your neck again, rubbing the back of her head and letting her cry. You’re crying too, now, but your tears fall silently compared to her sobbing.

               You don’t say much, because what can you say? It would be a lie to tell her that everything’s going to be okay, and every other reassurance that dances on the tip of your tongue just feels wrong, like you’d be pointedly lying to her. Instead, you let her get it out, her grip on you never loosening. You’d known Nobunaga had been the root of all her anxieties the last few months, long before he’d gotten the gall to kidnap her. And while you were happy that she wasn’t hurt, it still pained you to see her like this.

               Eventually she’d calmed down, and you feel her pull back and wipe at her sniffling nose. “I’m so sorry.” She whispers to you, looking like she’s on the verge of crying again. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess, I should’ve just gone quietly and left you alone. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay with me for a few weeks, now you’re really stuck with that monster.”

               You don’t tell her that it’s okay, because it’s not. Some part of you is still bitter and resentful towards her for involving you, because she’s right. You could be still living your life if she hadn’t requested you to help deter her stalker from making a move. But despite your anger, you can’t find it in yourself to hate her. Not when she’s like this – not when she’s probably experiencing something even worse than you.

               “It doesn’t matter now, all that matters is that we’re both alive, and we’re both okay. Or, at least, okay as we can be, given the situation.” You tell her, smiling softly. She blinks at you, eyes wide and vulnerable, before nodding and swallowing.

               “Yeah, I was worried that you wouldn’t be, with the way Nobunaga was talking about Uvogin.” Her voice was hoarse still, and you laughed humorlessly at that.

               “Yeah, well, he hasn’t hurt me yet, so I think I’ll be okay. He mostly just ignores me, honestly, so I guess I’m lucky.” Your attempt at optimism doesn’t make Stacy smile like you’d hoped. Rather, her lips pull into a frown and her eyebrows furrow.

               “He ignores you? That doesn’t make sense.”

               You expression mirrors hers. “What? I mean, the only reason I got kidnapped too was insurance so that you wouldn’t kill yourself –“

               Stacy’s face morphs into one of horror, and her grip on your shoulders goes slack.

               Quickly you’re backpedaling, worried the mention of her self-imposed death might’ve triggered something you wanted to avoid. “I’m not saying it’s your fault, I totally understand why you –“

               “Alright, time’s up.” Nobunaga’s voice interrupts, and knuckly hands are suddenly on your shoulders, pushing you aside so that Nobunaga can stand in front of Stacy. You stumble back, falling backwards against Uvogin’s hard chest, immediately standing up straight.

               Nobunaga’s cupping Stacy’s chin, and you can see from this angle the way he smiles, a slight pink color flooding his cheeks. It makes you sick, and the pained look on Stacy’s face only makes your gut sink more. She’s looking at you still, and something about the way her brows are cocked inward that makes you feel like she’s almost pitying you.  

               “Did you miss me, baby?” Nobunaga’s cooing down at her, and it makes your skin crawl. Uvogin sighs from behind you and grabs your wrist, dragging you out of the room. His grip is surprisingly gentle, and as you watch Stacy slowly fade from your view, you can’t help but be slightly grateful that at least your captor isn’t leaning down for a kiss like hers.

               The car ride home is mostly quiet, and it’s not until you’re nearing the end of your time in the vehicle that Uvogin breaks the silence.

               “So, what did you talk about while we were gone? Girly shit?” You think he’s attempting a joke, but you can’t even pretend to laugh at it.

               “She’s not happy.” You comment, voice slightly flat, and Uvogin snorts at your words.

               “Of course she’s not happy, she’s just been kidnapped. And by her stalker, no less – would anyone be happy? Hell, are you happy?” He asks you, and you blanch at his question. Somehow, though, it feels like some sort of trap, so you stay quiet.

               He doesn’t say anything more until he’s pulling you out of the car, your footsteps hesitant and clumsy because he’d put that damn blindfold on you again. He guides you up to the apartment, and soon you’re standing in the living room area, the fabric falling from your eyes.

               “I’ve got some errands to run today, so I’ll be gone for a while. Do you want anything while I’m out?” He asks, standing in front of the door with his arms crossed. You’re a bit touched that he’s offering to get you something, but you try not to focus on it. Of course you’re feeling grateful for him – he may be holding you captive, yes, but at least he hasn’t tried to kiss you or touch you. Poor Stacy didn’t share your luck.

               “Um, maybe some chips? I don’t care what flavor, just something crunchy…” You trail off, looking at him nervously. You’d never requested anything before, and some part of you is convinced he’d only asked you the question to laugh in your face and deny you.

               He cracks a smile and nods, hand already on the doorknob. “Okay. Okay, but you’d better be prepared to share, because I happen to be a big chip fan myself. So don’t get greedy, yeah?”

               You half-smile, rubbing at your arm. “Yeah, I won’t be.”

               He steps out the door, and once again the apartment is silent, his presence gone and all movement within the room gone, too.

               The TV won’t work for you, you know that, but you’re still trying to get it to behave. Uvogin had to type in some password every time he turned it on, and it was too long and encoded for you to ever be able to decipher it. Still, you were clicking the power button of the remote over and over, hoping against hope that it would somehow short circuit and bypass that password screen. When it didn’t, you only sighed, rising to your feet and wandering towards the monitor.

               Uvogin, you’d learned, was surprisingly meticulous – surprisingly organized, really. Meaning there was a chance he’d written down the password to the TV and had it stored somewhere. He’d only been gone for about a half hour, if the clock was any indication, and you had a lot of time to kill before he returned home. Not that he was your only source of entertainment – though, you’d read the single book he owned three times already.

               Your knees crack as you kneel down in front of the cupboard the TV was sitting on, the wooden doors creaking as they open. The shelves are mostly empty – a few older remotes, and a cable channel guide.

               Frustrated, you huff and let your shoulders slump, trying to decide what to do next. The TV obviously wasn’t planning on cooperating, though there was a cupboard right next to the one you’re searching through that could potentially hold the answer.

               Uvogin’s rules distantly float through your mind, his gruff voice replaying in perfect clarity. Third, don’t go digging through my shit. Glancing back up the clock, you bite your lip. You had time, because while he was massive and huge and scary, there was no way he could get all his errands done in just thirty minutes.

               With a deep breath, you move over to the other cabinet, letting your fingers curl around the knob. The doors don’t creak when they open, and immediately you’re scanning the shelves. These ones are full – with boxes, each labeled with a date on them. Cocking a brow, you examine the dates. January 4th – January 25th, April 29th – May 7th, and so on.

               Intrigued, you slowly slide out one of the boxes, noticing not a single bit of dust is sitting on the cover. He must use this cabinet much more often than the one you’d been searching through previously, as a thick layer of dust had sprung up in your face the moment you opened the cabinet door.

               The box itself is light, but you still set it down in front of you, your fingers delicate and careful, too worried that you’ll break something if you press too hard. And then Uvogin would know, surely, especially if he truly used this cabinet that often.

               Slowly, you take off the box’s cover, and immediately your brows are scrunching together. What the hell?

               When you’d imagined the kind of ‘shit’ Uvogin didn’t want you to snoop through, you hadn’t pegged it to be this. Whatever this was, that is.

               It looked like a box full of receipts – tons of pieces of paper, all in weird sizes or shapes that looked like they were ripped out of some sort of notebook. The handwriting is messy, the letters all crammed together and difficult to decipher. You pick the paper on top up, turning it this way and that, trying to read the text.

               Her: Sorry, I know it’s late, but I need to ask you a quick question.

               Them: Yeah? What’s up?

               Her: Do you think he’s alright? Chris, I mean – he hasn’t called me back for a few days, and I’m worried about him.

               Them: You know Chris, it always takes him a while to respond. I wouldn’t worry, he’s just unpredictable.

               Her: Yeah, I guess…

               [6 second pause]

               Them: Go to sleep, it’s late. You’ve got work in the morning, right?

               Her: Yeah, I do. Okay, okay, I’m getting into bed now. Goodnight.

               Them: Goodnight, call me when you hear back from him.

               Her: Okay.

               What was this? The ambiguity of it all confused you – who was her? Them? Chris?

               You furrowed your brows, confusion sitting in your gut alongside a strange feeling. The hairs at the back of your neck prickled up, and a small pang of unease bolted through you.

               Setting the piece of paper back into the bin, you picked up another one. This one was shorter, more to the point.

               Her: Are we still on for Friday night?

               Them: Yeah! Freddy’s, nine o’clock sharp. I’m buying, remember.

               Her: You always say that, and you always get too shit faced to pay. Liar!

               Them: Hey, I just know how to have fun! You could learn how to do that, you know.

               Her: Yeah yeah, okay, I’ll see you later.

               Your fingers are shaking as you finish reading the small, triangular slip of paper. Your lips are slightly parted, brows still crunched together. Something about the interaction between Her and Them felt oddly familiar – like something you’d heard before.

               And the mention of Freddy’s. That’d been the name of a bar you frequented often with your friends, back before everything had gone to shit with Stacy.

               Unnerved, you set the piece of paper back in the box and slide the box into its place on the shelf, running your eyes back over the listed date. August 28th – September 16th. One of your best friend’s birthdays was in that range.

               Wiping your palms on your thighs, you try to calm the pounding of your heart. Something feels off, wrong in a way you can’t quite place. Surely, Freddy’s is a common enough name; it doesn’t necessarily mean your favorite bar. Plus, even if it does mean that particular bar, who knew who these people were. You surely don’t - who the hell is Chris?

               Wanting to put some distance between you and the cabinet, you get to your feet again and close it, wandering away into the little hallway connecting the living space, bathroom and two bedrooms. Cupping some water in your hands from the bathroom sink, you splash your face, letting the cold wash over your skin. Closing your eyes, you try to calm down. It doesn’t mean anything – how could it? You’re probably just all shaken up after seeing Stacy and her freaky captor. Nobunaga disturbed you, you can’t deny it.

               Sighing, you open your eyes, wiping your face with your towel. (Uvogin had been kind enough to give you one designated as your own, saving you from the horrible fate of having you dry your body with a towel that he’d already used.) Though you notice with a small start that the towel is wet, despite you not having showered recently. Odd.

               As you turn to leave the room, you notice a shirt sitting piled up in the corner. It was black, and surely not your own – holding it up, it looked big enough to dwarf you. Must be Uvogin’s, then.

               His bedroom is across from your own, and while you haven’t been inside it yet, it feels wrong to just leave his shirt on the floor, where it could get dirty and maybe even moldy. Besides, doing a little cleaning would keep you occupied – both from boredom, and from contemplating those weird slips of paper further.

               You slowly open the door, immediately getting hit with a wave of musk. Uvogin normally smelled decent, but the scent in here is strong enough to make you wince a bit, the overwhelming stench of sweat, mint, and male making you a bit nauseous. To your surprise, the room is spotless – a very, very large bed sits floated in the middle, a navy and black flannel comforter covering the top while a few large, puffy pillows sit at attention at the head. A few pairs of boots are lined up in the corner, and a single picture looks to be taped up on the wall above them. Curiously, you step forward, moving towards the photo.

               Uvogin had told you very little about himself – only that he worked as a contractor, of sorts, and that he didn’t have too many friends, so you wouldn’t have to worry about visitors. But now that you’re looking at the photo, you’re wondering if maybe that last statement hadn’t been so true – the photo is of a dozen or so people, all posing for the camera with various degrees of a smile on their face. Uvogin’s in the back, on the left side, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a shorter blond man, his blue eyes in a wink and holding up his thumb. Uvogin’s smiling, and as you scan the photo, you stop when you hit Nobunaga, who’s seated in the front row next to a woman with big glasses and a modified cross necklace. Everyone looks happy, and briefly you wonder whether Uvogin considers these people friends. He must, if Nobunaga’s present – an odd sort of satisfaction worms its way into your chest at the thought. You don’t like Uvogin, surely not – but still, everyone needs friends, right? Even kidnappers.

               God, you really are starting to develop Stockholm Syndrome.

               Shaking your head to try and clear the thoughts, you approach his closet and snag a hanger, trying to hang up the shirt you’re holding in your arms. The thing is tall, and as you try to get the hanger’s hook to wrap over the metal bar, your eyes fall to the side, noticing something out of the corner of your vision.

               It’s a soft pink, and you cock a brow. Uvogin? Owning something pink?

               Eventually, and with a soft grunt, you get the hanger to successfully sit onto the bar, and immediately you’re investigating the pink thing. This goes directly against his rules, you know – you’re quite literally snooping, but hopefully he’d still be out for longer. Besides, even if he comes back, you could just tell him you’re putting away his shirt, and maybe he wouldn’t call you on your half-lie.

               Whatever the thing is, it’s wedged pretty far back in the closet – you’d only managed to catch a brief glimpse of it, and for good reason. There’s a storage container in the back of the closet, an organizer of sorts with some compartments that all seem to be stuffed full. It’s hard to see, the overhead light dim to begin with and not penetrating too deeply into the dark closet, but you’re able to fish out the pink fabric soon enough.

               It's lace, you realize, your curiosity only doubling. That same pin-prickly feeling is back, and as you slowly flatten out the cloth, your breath catches.

               It’s a thong. Pink and lacy, with a bow decorating the back, right over the tailbone.

               But more than that, the thong looks familiar. There’s a thread pulled on the front right side, and a stain on the fabric at the very bottom, looking awfully similar to the color your own discharge makes once it’s been washed.

               Your fingers are shaking again, and you stumble back a bit, the back of your knees catching onto the bed so that you fall back and land on your ass, too busy staring at the cloth in your hands to bother trying to situate yourself.

               These panties are yours.

               You’re sure of it – you know because Stacy bought them for you a few months ago. She’d cheekily handed them to you with a big, gaudy bow on top, a wink sent your way and a demure because I know you’ve got a date tonight, and I also know you haven’t gotten laid in way too long. That was the night you’d been set up on a blind date with a friend’s coworker. He’d been nice, though you hadn’t slept with him, and you hadn’t gone out again after that. He didn’t seem all that interested in you as a romantic pursuit, but he was funny, and you’d hoped you could become friends, at least.

               And his name was Chris. And he’d gone missing a few days after.

               You drop the panties, a hand coming up to cover your mouth.

               You don’t want to, and you know you shouldn’t, but before you can stop yourself you’re rushing forward to the closet, digging back to that storage compartment and rooting around for anything else you can find. It must be a coincidence; it has to be a coincidence. These can’t be your panties, you must be mistaken – why would Uvogin have these? How could he have these? You’d lost them in the laundry a while back.

               At least, that’s what you’d assumed.

               Pulling your hand back, you see you’ve grabbed a few items. They’re smaller, not clothing, but nonetheless incriminating. There’s a chapstick container, with a strange flavor on it that you’ve only seen once, back when you won it in some weird fundraising fair you’d been at for your job. Kiwi banana grape, it said in curling black lettering, and when you pop open the top, you notice it’s almost completely empty.

               There’s also a button; it’s black with a strange shape, one you recognize as being from your favorite jacket. It’d fallen off one day, but you’d been too busy walking around the city to have realized. It was a real bummer, because it’d rendered the jacket unwearable because too big a draft would sneak through it.

               And lastly, there’s a bandaid – it’s old, you can tell, with a kiddy pattern of some fairies and a dinosaur on it that the nurse had apologized for having to use, telling you it was all they had available at the time. You remembered it – it’d made you laugh that you’d gotten your flu shot and she’d patched it up with a bandaid designed for six year olds, even going so far as to snap a photo and send it in the group chat you kept with your friends.

               You feel sick.

               Throwing the small items back into the compartment, you rush to the bathroom, barely making it before you’re heaving, all the curry you’d forced down your throat earlier coming right back up.

               What the fuck?

               Who was Uvogin? Why did he have all of this? How did he have all of this? What did it mean? Your head’s rushing, too many thoughts and implications swimming through your oversaturated mind, and you have just barely enough strength to flush the toilet and stand up, staring at yourself in the mirror.

               Stacy’s words rush back to you as you examine your face, seeing your wide eyes and the way your chest is rising and falling with each harsh breath slipping through your lips. He ignores you? That doesn’t make sense. None of it makes sense – none of it at all. Why would your by-association captor have any of your personal items? Especially personal items you’d lost or thrown away literal months ago, long before you’d ever started staying over at Stacy’s?

               You know why, you just don’t want to admit it, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you try to come up with any other possible explanation. No. It can’t be. Stacy’s the one with the creepy stalker, not me.

               Suddenly, the sound of the front door’s lock clicking open makes you snap up, adrenaline suddenly coursing through your veins. Uvogin’s home.

               Immediately you’re running to your bed, jumping under the covers and shutting your eyes tightly, praying that Uvogin will think you’re asleep and won’t bother you. You need more time to figure this out – it’s all too much, and while it probably won’t be any easier the longer you wait, you need something.

               You can’t look at him yet. You won’t.

               “I got your chips! Didn’t know which flavor to choose, so I got three I think you might like. I’m serious, though, you have to share. I’m an animal, and I will steal your food.” He laughs at that, and you hear him set down the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. Your eyes are still closed so tightly that it hurts, and you ball your fists up in the blankets as hard as you can. You’d curled up into a fetal position, and you force yourself to stay still as you hear his loud footsteps coming down the hall.

               He calls your name, peeking his head into every room he passes. Soon he sees you in your bed, and although you look a little stiff, his shoulders immediately lose their tension. A smile flits across his lips, and he slowly, quietly shuts the door, retreating back to his own room.

               You sigh, peeling open your eyes and trying to get your breathing under control. You’d been holding your breath, and now that he’s actually home in the apartment, it’s difficult to not let yourself panic.

               It becomes much, much more difficult when you hear a noise come from his bedroom, though. What the hell’s this?

               There’s a muffled curse, and your blood runs cold as quick, heavy footsteps lead right up to your door. He swings it open and your eyes fly shut, trying desperately in vain to appear like you’re still sleeping.

               “Wake the fuck up.” He says, and immediately you open your eyes, your fear too strong to ignore. He’s holding the pink panties in his hands, and you realize with a small burst of terror that in your haste to get to the bathroom, you’d left them on the floor. In his room. Right where he can see that they’ve been moved.

               Fuck fuck fuck.

               "I only have three rules. What are they?” He barks, and you’re trying to curl up even smaller, hoping his promise of not hurting you will still ring true. Though, he’s lied about pretty much everything else – how do you know if that part wasn’t all a lie, too?

               “No hurting myself, no escaping, and no – no snooping.” You whisper, and Uvogin bares his teeth.

               “I’ve been good to you – patient, something that takes a hell of a lot of effort for me. And what do you do in return? You go and do one of the very few things I’ve forbidden.” He looks impossibly tall right now, towering over you with those muscles, the panties looking downright tiny between his monstrous fingers. “Tell me why. Explain to me why the hell you were snooping through my closet.”

               You shut your eyes again, too scared to look at him. “I was putting away a shirt you left in the bathroom. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I did it, please don’t hurt me, please –“

               He interrupts you with a huff, and you tense up, waiting for some blow to land. It doesn’t, though, and after a good thirty seconds, you finally peel an eye open, almost too scared to see what he’s doing.

               You don’t expect the small smile that’s sitting on his lips, nor the hand on his hip. He locks his eyes with yours, then sighs. “Well, this is most definitely not the way I wanted you to find out. See, I had this whole plan – Nobunaga came up with it, one of the very few things he’s ever thought of that actually impressed me.”

               You’re confused again, but that sick feeling still hasn’t gone away. All you can seem to look at are your panties, wedged in his fist.

               “He told me that since you and Stacy were so close, we could cut a deal – kidnap you both at once, get more bang for our buck. There was no way to hide Nobunaga’s feelings for Stacy, sure, but you? Well, you haven’t noticed anyone following you, have you?” Uvogin asks, cocking his head at you and letting his smile get a bit wider.

               You quickly shake your head no.

               “I’m better at this stuff than he is. He always gets too excited to talk to her, wants to interact and have her lookin’ at him. I get it, I really do. Even now, even with you scared shitless and looking at me like I’m about to kill you, just you acknowledging me is getting me hard as a fucking rock.”

               Involuntarily, your eyes dart down to his navel, and with a small, strangled sound of fear, you notice the way there’s a prominent bulge forming in those shorts of his.

               He laughs at your change in focus, and steps forward. Hooking a finger under your chin, he smirks down at you. “I’m better at hiding myself, and I was willing to play the long game, content with watching you until the right time came to snatch you up. But when Nobunaga offered, telling me there was a way to get you all to myself and make sure you grew to want me organically? Well, I couldn’t resist, could I?”

               You want to tell him he absolutely could’ve, or that you wouldn’t have ‘wanted him organically’, whatever the hell that meant, but your tongue doesn’t seem to be working.

               He leans down, face coming closer and closer to yours. “You had no idea, did you? How do you think I knew what kind of mattress to get you? How do you think I knew exactly what to order for you for takeout, even when you were too scared to tell me? How do you think I know what shampoo and conditioner to buy you, or even what kind of fucking cologne you like? Believe me, I’m only wearing this shit for you.”

               You’re frozen, unable to move, unable to do anything but stare at him.

               “Do you get it now, princess? See, Nobunaga doesn’t give two shits about whether you live or die – he’ll get Stacy to do what he wants no matter what. But me? I give a shit.” He’s so close to you that you can smell his breath. It’s minty, like he’s just recently brushed his teeth. The cold smell only makes you shiver, fear still tingling up your spine.

               “Why?” You whisper, overwhelmed at his sudden confession.

               He pauses at that, smirk falling away as he genuinely considers your words. He’s quiet for a moment, before he smiles again, but this time it’s not as predatory – there’s something oddly soft about it, and it makes you feel worse.

               “Because you’re perfect. That’s all.” He answers like it’s the easiest thing in the world, and before you can say anything he’s clambering on the bed next to you. You want to fight him off, to jump up off the bed and run, but you can’t seem to find the energy to. Besides, you’re not delusional enough to think you could beat Uvogin in any sort of physical altercation or chase. And while he still seemed to be adhering to his promise of not hurting you, you didn’t feel like testing the waters.

               “So I guess the jig’s up. I was hoping you wouldn’t find out, but I can work with this, too. At least now I don’t have to act like I don’t know you. And now, I don’t have to do all that respectful distance shit – you’re mine now, babe, and now I don’t have to hide it.” He’s grinning again, his teeth looking too sharp, and before you can blink he’s above you, your wrists pinned above your head and his lips inches away from yours.

               “So why don’t I show you just how much your attention the last week’s been affecting me?” His voice is low, sultry, and makes you gulp. He presses his face into your neck, deeply inhaling and groaning. “I promise I can make you feel good… I’ll tell you my last rule, okay?”

               You’re frozen, but when he pulls back to glare at you, you shakily mutter out an ‘okay’.

               His grin is wolfish, predatory, scary. “Rule number four is no running away from me, even if that cute little body of yours can’t take anymore. Got it?”

               You nod.

#yandere hxh #yandere hunter x hunter #yandere uvogin #_lee's fics #_lee writes for ramwrites #_uvogin #_hxh

[yours-mythically]

A Bad Day = Comfort from Nat

➤ pairing : natasha romanoff x reader (platonic/romantic), dad!tony stark x daughter!reader (platonic)

➤ summary : (request) Hi! I'm wondering if you could do where reader has had a bad day because Tony got into a fight with them and they break down . Then Natasha walks in on them fumbling with a sharpener blade (already bleeding).

➤ warnings : sh (with blade)

➤ a/n : for my lovely anon who requested this. also ig this can be read as either platonic or romantic but I think platonic fits better, also (2.0) the title is damn lame but I couldn't come up with anything else because I was writing this while skipping school n I was a little unfocused

It wasn't often that you had fights with your dad. But when you did, they could get out of hand sometimes. Besides that, it could also take you two a long time to, somewhat, get along with each other again, both of you having an undeniably large ego. Your mother, Pepper, who you always got along with perfectly fine (you figured it was, because she was a woman and Tony was a man and men are...well...different) had always tried to break the arguements you and your dad had apart. But it didn't always work.

"They're arguing again?" Wanda asked somewhat sadly, nodding into the lab where you and your dad stood, trying to argue each other's points - that being very undistinguishable and hard to hear. It sounded like you two were just yelling insults at each other at this point.

"Yeah. You know, it's kinda sad; considering Y/N's his daughter, but they still argue so often." Clint said, listening to your drama while eating a bunch of grapes he found.

Wanda furrowed her eyebrows and watched as you stormed off, Tony releasing a yell of anger when you were gone.

"What was that about?" Natasha asked, joining Clint and the witch in the living room.

"Probably just another stupid argument." Clint shrugged, eating a few more grapes.

Natasha nodded in understanding, "I'm gonna go check on Y/N. Make sure she's alright." She told the two before leaving them alone once again.

Natasha arrived in front of your room, which actually was right next to hers, and knocked at the door.

"Hey, Y/N, it's Nat. Can I come in for a sec?" She asked waiting for a response. When she didn't get one, she released a long sigh, "Listen, I just wanna talk real quick. Nothing to be scared of; you're not in trouble or anything."

"Leave!" Was the only thing Nat heard, your voice muffled through the door.

"I promise, Y/N, I just want to help." Natasha told you, her voice softening when she realized how much more upset you actually were.

"I don't need help, I'm fine!" You replied.

Natasha released one more sigh, "Okay, I'll leave you alone, alright? But if you need anything - someone to talk to or some comfort - come over to my room or just give me a call, okay?" She waited for another response, but didn't get one so she just left, assuming you were just in a mood.

It was a decision she'd deeply regret later.

It was no more than an hour when the red head decided to try to talk to you again. Once again, she stood in front of your door, but before she had the chance to knock, she was sure she heard someone sobbing. And considering this room belonged to you, she was pretty sure she knew who it was.

"Hey, you okay?" Natasha asked concerned, but all she received was another sob, "I'm gonna come in, alright?"

Natasha didn't have the patience as she did before; she knew that you were feeling incredibly shitty and being very protective of you and wanting to comfort you, she couldn't help but open the door with force.

After ramming against the door a few times, it opened, revealing your messy room that you had clearly... redecorated, when you were in your fit of rage.

When she saw you, Natasha's heart felt as if it was getting squeezed by someone very strong.

You sat on the floor against a wall, knees against your chest and tears falling from your eyes so quickly, it was giving any waterfall a run for their money.

You were sure you looked pathetic.

But Nat didn't think so. She came closer, that frown that has been on her face for about three minutes, still being there.

But it turned into a look of sheer panic when she saw what you were holding. It looked like a tiny, simple piece of metal, but the cuts on your arms revealed that it was more than that. And Nat knew exactly what she saw.

"Y/N, give me the blade. Please," She said, kneeling down in front of you slowly, not wanting to startle you, "Please, Y/N."

You were overcome by emotions and didn't know what to do. Should you give it to her? Would that be the right thing to do?

"Hey, look at me. I know you've had a tough day, hell maybe even a tough week, but you know what? You've been handling it like a champ. I know what happened sucks; a lot. And trust me I don't want you to feel like that. So let me help you, alright?" Natasha pleaded softly, outstretching her hand, "Give me the blade."

You thought about her words before deciding that the right decision was the one where you give Nat the blade. So you did. Your eyes, red and puffy, looked at her for the first time since she entered this room and Nat felt her heart clench once again.

"Come on, let's go clean that. We don't want it to get infected." She said, smiling at you before helping you up.

She told you to sit down on your bed as she went - careful to walk around the mess in your room - and fetched the first aid kit from the bathroom.

"So, you wanna tell me what's been happening?" Natasha asked as she sat down next to you.

You told her about your troubles, explaining every single detail as to why you were feeling the way you did. In the meantime, Natasha began dressing your wounds. She cleaned them carefully, trying to make it as less painful as possible, before she put on some band-aids to keep the wounds clean.

"...and then I had the fight with my dad which just set me over the edge." You explained, coming to an end. Natasha nodded, having listened to everything you had told her.

"It'll get better," She simply said, "I know it doesn't feel like that now, but it will, I promise. And if you ever need someone to get you through this and help you, you can always come to me. I'll be here with open arms. I'll hold you, cuddle you, watch TV with you, go on a walk with you; anything. Hell, I'd even try to make dinner for you."

You chuckled shortly at Nat's last statement, knowing that she isn't particularly gifted when it comes to cooking.

"The point is, I'm here for you. Always."

#marvel #the avengers #natasha romanoff #yours-mythically #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha x reader

[realtalk127]

alright fuck it. i can't sleep and i need to talk about this scene from the last episode of critical role.

because holy shit if this ain't some of the best rp – nay, storytelling in general – that i've ever seen. (buckle up, it ain't gonna be short.)

laudna: i made you a doll. because dolls are for children. and you're a child.

the way she says this is not nice! it's biting, it's snarky. she definitely seems to mean it as an insult – and she probably does! – at first. but laudna's idea of a child is much more expansive than just a cheep insult, as she makes clear shortly.

then ashton's response: i've never had a doll before. this is the nicest thing anyone's ever given me.

i don't know if this reaction melts laudna a little (if it does, she doesn't show it visibly), or maybe she was already coming to the conversation with a more nuanced definition of 'child', but either way, the conversation shifts immediately – and the next two sentences clarify where they're both coming from here.

laudna: i like children. // ashton: i don't.

she likes children! and we knew this, of course. marisha, the god of intentional rp showed us this within the first few moments of laudna's screen-time way back in episode 1. but still! it's worth repeating. despite the bite of her initial comment to ashton, she doesn't necessarily mean it as an insult. i don't know that we could entirely call it a compliment, given the context, but at the very least, i think she intended it as a point of connection.

after all, our data re: Laudna And Kids is not limited to that one scene from episode 1. there's also the parallel scene that mirrors it (with a happier ending) back in episode 38, when laudna first visits the sun tree after her resurrection. we also know (via a 4sd episode that i don't care to dig up right now) that laudna had another friend before imogen, who was a little girl.

and i think it's that little girl that's the most important piece here. we don't know anything about that story except that she exists, but i'm willing to read between the lines and make an assumption that laudna – on average – has better luck getting children to be kind to her (when they've not yet been taught to be cruel) than with adults. there is an innocence there that laudna needs! she needs people who haven't been hardened by assumptions and pre-judgements and all that bullshit. for laudna there is safety – both emotional and literal physical safety – in a childlike perspective.

ALL THAT TO SAY: laudna's associations with childhood are, generally, positive. for a variety of reasons.

but!

ashton's are NOT.

ashton's childhood sucked. from the jump. he was a part of a shitty cult that he barely remembers, and after that they were in an ophanage. their associations with childhood are overwhelmingly negative, and likely associated with feelings of helplessness and loneliness.

whether or not laudna intended that original comment ('you're a child') as an insult, we can pretty safely assume ashton took it as one.

they continue:

ashton: they're awful. // laudna: they're not.

NOW, we're getting into the meat of it. where before they were dancing around a metaphor, it becomes immediately clear what's really being talked about here. ashton is saying 'i'm awful', and laudna is emphatically saying 'no you're not.'

which! first of all, is so insanely generous of her. after what ashton just put her through less than 24 hours ago, laudna has every reason to affirm ashton's assertion that they are, in fact, awful. but she doesn't. ashton knows this, which is why he amends his original statement:

ashton: they can be.

they're saying: perhaps i can concede that i am not always awful, but let's at least agree that sometimes (like specificaly, oh, i don't know, LAST NIGHT) i can be.

laudna: you should remember what it's like to be one.

ashton: i do. it wasn't great.

the LAYERS, y'all. the LAYERS. the important thing here is that it's all in the context of that first comment: you're a child. which is, critically, a statement made in the context of ashton's decisions the previous night. they're talking in generalities here, but they're mostly talking about last night.

so!

when laudna says they should remember what it's like to be one [a child], she also means: you were a child last night, but not in a cool, whimsical way, just in a shitty, immature way. AND! when ashton says they remember, and that it wasn't great, they're saying they know they fucked up last night, but all they know of childhood is an overwhelming helplessness, how can that possibly be spun to a positive?

and this, really, is the crux of their two differing worldviews. these two have a lot in common – much has been said about that in game and out – but this point is where they split. laudna has survived, by embracing her childlike nature (admittedly, to a fault, at times). how to keep from being hurt? just keep everything fun and whimsical! nothing to worry about here, it's all just a silly little game! and she has also needed people who share that perspective. people who are willing to take her at face value and without any of the negative assumptions and prejudices they may have picked up along the way.

ashton, on the other hand survived by growing up immediately. they got through their own shitty childhood by becoming an adult (or acting like one anyway) as quickly as possible and STAYING that way. ashton needs to have a tough exterior (there's the made-of-stone thing again) to feel safe. (admittedly, from an audience perspective, this veneer is basically see-through. but ashton doesn't necessarily know this. they're trying their best. so from their perspective, the tough guy thing is Working.)

laudna: you should find more joy in your inner child.

she's saying two things here:

(1) you can be soft and be safe. those can co-exist, aND!

(2) i need you to be soft for me to be safe. when you have this false tough exterior, it hurts people. it hurts (hurt) me.

which is certainly a resonant metaphor to play with for the literal ROCK GUY who just got literally MELTED into LAVA 12 hours prior.

ANYWAY- that's what i've got for now on this scene. i'll probably never stop thinking about it, and there's even more good shit from later on in the scene when they talk about the doll, but that's it for now.

#critical role #laudna #ashton greymoore #my thoughts #cr3 #bells hells #this SCENE you guys #i can't stop thinking about it. #it's just THAT good

[followerofmercy]

Just finished archon quest. Childe and Skirk commentary:

Good God Skirk is so much worse of a person than I expected. I love her.

Most people I know hate her and I think a lot of it is because one, her design is too vtuber and not enough monster, which, fair, even if I don't 100% agree, and two, we were all kinda hoping for Childe to have his Abyssal Found Family and not the person probably single-handedly responsible for most of the things wrong with him. She is awful. She outright says that the reason Childe thought she wasn't very chatty was because he was too weak for her to bother carrying a conversation with him. A literal teenager.

The yeet wasn't funny. I don't think it was intended to be. She sounded bored the entire time, as if this man didn't just spend a MONTH IN SOUP FIGHTING A WORLD-ENDING MONSTER FROM SPACE with a delusion that's killing him.

Meeting Skirk has given me a whole new respect for Childe. He turned out this well DESPITE her?! He views that as a role model, and his biggest problem is seeing himself as a tool instead of a person?? This kid's incredible.

I'm choosing to view Skirk and Childe's relationship as Mom /neg, not because she's particularly motherly towards him even in a shitty abusive way, but because she was uniquely poised to Fuck Him Up how only a mother can. She's responsible for his life. She's everything he ever wanted to be. He's been chasing her approval ever since he fell in that hole, and he's never gonna get it. This kid needs better friends.

(Though, on the other hand, if Foul is anything like Rhinedottir, Skirk probably comes by it honestly? Skirk's awful but she might actually not be the worst case scenario)

This archon quest has completely changed how I think of both Childe and Furina and I'm losing my mind. This is going up with fullmetal alchemist as some of my alltime favorite media.

#genshin #4.2 genshin #4.2 spoilers #childe #skirk #tartaglia #fomreblog #character analysis #Childe Analysis #also please put spoilers under a readmore #It makes it much harder to accidentally see something you don't want to

[gotta-pet-em-all]

Pokemon-induced healing

And why you fuckers shouldn't rely on it for everything, Arceus fuck stop forcing your poor Chansey to take care of wounds that you should seriously go to the hospital for

* * * * *

okay. SO. To preface this, I volunteered in a Pokemon center for a while. And while this was just a volunteer position and not something I had medical training for, I've also got personal experience. Due to my poor coordination and shitty connective tissue, I tend to fall over, bump into things, and bruise very easily. So trust me when I say I know what I'm talking about.

So, how does pokemon healing work?

That's a fucking complicated question. So, let's start with the healing moves and narrow it down. The main ones I'm going to be talking about here are Heal Pulse, Life Dew, and Floral Healing.

Actually no I'm not qualified to talk about Floral Healing. If any comfey trainers wanna add on, feel free.

Heal pulse and life dew! So, Heal Pulse is the one I have the most familiarity with, and it's essentially a wave of energy that encourages your body to accelerate the natural healing process. No, it does not artificially age you, and it will not reduce your lifespan, but let's be real for a moment. If you get injured and need healing that much, your lifespan may be in danger for other reasons.

However. There are other dangers to it that really aren't talked about a lot, namely: repairing tissue damage, and infection. There are a lot of situations in which heal pulse can be risky:

-injured person has an artificially suppressed or otherwise compromised immune system.

-injured person has a heart condition, particularly where arrhythmia is a symptom

-injury is infected or contains foreign substance

-dead tissue is still attached to affected area

And I'm gonna break down one by one, why all of these are bad!

So, it's not quite as well known, but heal pulse actually does have an impact on the immune system. In ancient times, it was believed that cursed pokemon would make you sick when they healed you, but in actuality, this phenomenon was simply the pokemon kicking the immune system into gear for a minor/dormant infection that would have happened anyways. However, this can be dangerous for people with a compromised immune system, because you're basically trying to squeeze blood from a stone. In most cases, it can make their immune systems worse, and while this is thankfully temporary, it's still deeply unpleasant and may interfere with someone's plans because you've abruptly shunted them to the hospital when they were going to have brunch with the girls this week instead.

Next is arrhythmia. I've got this one, it flares up from time to time. I cannot stress enough that disabled people are everywhere. We don't just exist as tokens at the edge of your imagination. We're probably at the grocery store or on public transportation. It may just be that I'm a bit jaded, but it pisses me off more than anything that I have to experience symptoms when I would love to be frolicking through the woods. Anyways, heal pulse relies on the heartbeat to synchronize with and distribute the energy-- so when the heartbeat is uneven? Things can start getting a lil fucky. Usually this results in dizziness, nausea, feeling flushed, and on rare occasions fainting. People with heart conditions are more common than you think, please ask us before messing with our bodies.

Third thing is infections. Remember how I said that heal pulse kicks your immune system into overdrive? Well, the immune system is responsible for expelling all foreign matter from your system, not just illness. This is why you'll want to make sure to clean a wound first, unless it's urgent. You can skip the wound cleaning part if it's an emergency, but... it's not really pretty. Seriously. I don't advise it.

Fourth reason! Okay, so, this is gonna be a little gross, but let's say you trip and skin your knee. It's bleeding, you've got a weird little flap of skin hanging off. Normally, that skin will turn white (or at least it does for me; I have light skin, but I'm told it may turn a pale greyish color for people with dark skin. That said, I'm gonna be real. I do not want to look up pictures, so I am trusting the dark skinned folks reading this to know what dead/peeling skin looks like for them) and eventually fall off. HOWEVER. If you apply heal pulse to it? There's a decent chance that your body may attempt to revitalize the dead skin at the same time as it scabs over the wound and then the skin closes up and eats the scab. It won't kill you, and eventually the extra flap of skin will die, but it's still. Geh. It's really not pleasant. Don't do it.

If this sounds fucking horrifying, that's because it is! All of these things are fucking horrifying to happen to your body! Don't ask me how I know this!

Now that you've all been suitably terrified of the dangers of heal pulse, let me introduce you to an alternative: life dew! Life dew does not interfere with arrhythmia, can be stored with special preparation, and generally has much weaker effects. It tends to help with the process of clotting and scabbing more so than healing, so if you've made any mistakes, they're generally easier to remedy.

Pokemon healing, like any other type, requires consent. Yes, there are exceptions-- sometimes a person cannot reasonably consent in their current state, or there was an accident with a wild scyther and consent is the last thing on your mind with all the blood everywhere. Even so, please always keep in mind that you need to respect the sanctity of other people's bodies and take accountability for your actions as a trainer.

That's all!

#rotomblr #pokemon irl #pokeblogging #fluff and the disabled agenda

[teddypickerry]

Hi!! if you’re still doing requests would you do a loralie gilmore x fem reader one? maybe where they bond over liking metallica (sorry chris lmao) and their friendship turns into a relationship?

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍.

pairings — fem! reader x lorelai gilmore

word count — 876

warnings — literally just fluffy + flirty lorelai

a/n — first of all, never apologize to chris. secondly… WHAT UP MFS (saying that like i didn’t disappear off the face of the earth for a hot min) hope this tiny little blurb did you justice, i thought it was just cute. love you guys. thank you for messaging me + sending requests lately. you guys rock.

THE TOWN OF STARS HOLLOW was on the brink of Autumn, yet the sun was mistaking the New England town for a tropical paradise. Except the sun didn't accept the idea of paradise. Not with the continuous heat waves that had the town meetings cancelled and air conditioners blasting. Not a single long sleeve in sight despite it being the first day of September.

"This feels like a joke. This has to be a joke, right?" Lorelai Gilmore mutters as she walks down the side walk, fanning herself with her hand while trailing around in her heeled boots that felt like personal hell. Her best friend, Sookie, stood to her right wiping the bead of sweat from her forehead. "If it is, this is the cruelest joke ever."

The two regretted their walk from the Dragonfly Inn almost instantly and that thought only deepened as they walked the towns streets. Luke's seemed so far away and they were ready to give up.

"Watch out!" A voice called from the town square, as the two woman turned to see a ball coming in their direction. Lorelai moved out of the way and Sookie quickly followed, the ball nearly taking out their necks. A woman came jogging over and stopped with a quick glance at the two of them, grabbing the ball and tossing it into her arms. "Oh, sorry. That kid is not ready for soccer tryouts.”

Lorelai locked eyes with the woman who stood before her, wearing a pair of sneakers with shorts and a cut-up Metallica t-shirt. She looked like she somehow didn't break a sweat. Despite her athletic efforts. "Where did you come from, the freezer section?" Lorelai asks.

The unknown woman rubs her lips together before motioning over to the kid standing in the grass across the road. "My niece has shitty aim," She says with a quick smile.

"Well we can't all be... a… soccer player," Lorelai mutters as she realizes she doesn't know the name of a singular athletic star.

"Are you new around here?" Sookie asks the girl curiously as she searches her purse for her sunscreen. Y/N only nodded in response, "Just visiting my sister. She owns the boutique down the road."

"Oh yeah, I like going in there. It's like an episode of The Twilight Zone. I never know what's gonna happen in there," Lorelai chuckles as the woman only nods along. "Cool t-shirt, by the way."

"Metallica fan?" Y/N asks as she eyes her for a moment, noticing the pink tank top with a puppy on it. She found it hard to believe that this smiley woman would be fond of Kirk Hammett.

"Great band," Lorelai nods.

"They know how to play a tune or two," Y/N comments with a quick smirk making Lorelai smile. Clearly enjoying their little talk and what Y/N said next. "It's not too often I run into a pretty Metallica fan."

Lorelai smiles sweetly at those words making Sookie have to hide her smile of excitement with her hand. Before making an excuse to leave the two alone. "I'm gonna head to Luke's before I become bacon out here... nice meeting you."

Y/N gives her a nod as she walks past her, leaving Lorelai stood infront of her and only her. "Yeah, I'll meet you there."

She tossed the ball back over towards her niece who went back to kicking it around the gazebo. Lorelai's eyes still on her as she did so. Enjoying her figure in the summer clothing. "Well I should probably get back to her..."

"Yeah," Lorelai gives her a nod as she breaks out of the trance and looks over at the kid. "She's a cute kid."

"She is," Y/N nods as she gives Lorelai another look once her head turned. "Listen... I'm gonna be in town for a while."

"Oh?" The Inn owner says, obviously too awkward to mumble out something witty as per usual. Y/N nodded before licking her lips. "Yeah, I'll see you around?"

"Yep. It's Stars Hollow; we see everyone and everything. Not in a creepy way... but in a like, we're always looking. God, that sounded very opening scene of Halloween," Lorelai smiles awkwardly before chuckling away her nerves.

"Great movie," Y/N comments with a quick smile as she glanced down at the empty coffee cup Lorelai was holding. Questioning why she was on her second cup of hot coffee on a day like this... but noticing the sharpie'd name written on the side. "…Lorelai."

Lorelai furrows her eyebrows with another soft chuckle. "So you're stalker Michael Myers."

"No, I'm just a girl who can read," Y/N motions to the coffee cup with a nice smirk. Lorelai feels a grin grow at that as she looks over at the woman. "I'll see you later, Lorelai."

"You too, Y/N." Lorelai hums as she watches her head toward the street before turning to her with a confused look. Lorelai only grins as she starts walking to the coffee shop, "I can read too."

Y/N thinks for a moment as she crossed the street and walked back over to her niece. Noticing the ball by her feet. 'Property of Y/N Y/L/N'

"Well, damn."

#teddypickerry #gilmore girls #lorelai gilmore #lorelai gilmore x fem reader #lorelai gilmore x reader #jess mariano x reader #jess mariano #rory gilmore #rory gilmore x reader #luke danes #gilmore girls fanfic

[daisyrb-gvf]

Cruising Into Love-Part 2

d.r.w. x f!reader

I'm so excited to be posting this so soon after the first chapter! The third may take a while longer, but this story is just pouring out of me.

Words: 4.6k

Summary: On a solo adventure to the waterfalls of the Bahamas, you run into Danny, off on an adventure of his own.

Warnings: language, cheesy sibling love, hot and heavy make out, that's pretty much it for this one

“Danny…Danny….DANIEL, HELLO!?” Josie leans across the table, waving her hand in front of Danny’s face, snapping him out of his daydream. “I’m attempting to have an enjoyable lunch with my big brother,” she jokes, taking a bite of pineapple. 

“I’m sorry, sis. I think that run must have tired me out,” Danny replies, “What’s up?” 

Josie chuckles, looking down at her plate, absent-mindedly moving some lettuce around with her fork. “Yeah I bet so.” She flicks her eyes up to Danny before stabbing another piece of fruit. 

“What do you mean?” Danny asks, trying to put on his best confused expression. 

Josie gives him a knowing stare, boring her eyes through him, “You can fool mom and dad, and-if you’re really good-you can maybe even fool Sam, but you know you cannot fool me.” 

“Jos, I really don–” Danny cuts himself off, knowing the attempt is futile. She’s right. Everyone thinks your brothers-especially Sam-know you best, and while they are very close, no one knows you like your little sister. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit she may have gotten me a little distracted. I’m sorry. I’m here now. What were you saying?” 

“Oh, nothing important. Let’s talk about this girl!” Josie gushes as she pushes her plate aside, resting her elbows on the table and propping her chin up with two little fists. 

Danny chuckles and sighs, crossing his arms as he leans back in his chair. He glances out at the ocean through the floor-to-ceiling glass window next to the table. His lip twitches up into a little smirk that he tries to hide from his eager (and nosey) little sister. “I mean…you’ve seen her basically as much as I have, with the exception of our run, and it’s not like we were talking during that. There’s no way I could have. She is fast.” He cracks a smile and picks up his glass of water, the condensation cool and wet on his calloused fingertips. 

“You seemed to be having a nice little conversation with her before I came out there,” she replies kindly, not wanting to sound accusatory. 

“We only talked for a couple of minutes, and it was really just small talk. I don’t even think she’s told us her name,” he chuckles.

“It’s y/n,” Josie replies, matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah, I know, but only from the cruise itinerary,” Danny says as he steals a strawberry from Josie’s plate. 

“Come on, dude! The buffet is right there. Go get your own food!” 

“You just pushed your plate away! I didn’t want it to go to waste. What would Sam say?” he asks, feigning offense as he plucks another strawberry from her plate. 

Josie rolls her eyes, “Clearly, the girl is flustered around you. Give her a break, and maybe she assumes you know her name because of the itinerary. Did you consider that?” 

“Okay, I hear you,” Danny says, putting his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is, I hardly know anything about the girl, other than the fact that she could probably kick my ass in a foot race and she is a talented musician.” 

“Oh, yeah. No big deal. Just two qualities you would love in a woman,” Josie replies sarcastically, kicking his shin gently under the table and grinning. 

“Sis, we are on this boat for seven more days, and then what? I’m not gonna be the guy that has a week-long fling and just…disappears,” Danny says, before taking another sip of water. 

“Why not?” Josie asks, a genuine curious expression on her face. 

Danny looks surprised by her response. “Because…well, it’s kind of shitty, isn’t it? Getting some girl all blissed out on me and then just leaving?” 

“First of all,” Josie starts, leaning back in her chair, “she’s not the only one who would be getting ‘blissed out’ okay? Clearly, the feeling is mutual there, so don’t be all macho, dude.” 

Danny laughs and rolls his eyes, “You know I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know, but your little sis has to make sure you know your place. All the crazy fans out there are gonna give you a big head, so I’m just doing my job,” she smiles proudly, crossing her arms. Danny smiles and softly shakes his head. “Secondly, she works here. She knows that the people she sees for a week or two will likely never cross her path again, so if she seems interested, I’m sure she has that in mind as well.” 

Danny considers for a moment with pause, “...yeah, I suppose so.”

“And lastly-the big one-she doesn’t know who you are.” 

“Wait, how do you know?” 

“Because I heard her ask you what you do as I was walking outside earlier today. She has no clue you’re a rockstar. And that is a huge win for you,” she says with a smile, her big hazel eyes-slightly more green than Danny’s-glinting in the sunlight pouring through the window.

“So, what…do I just lie to her?” Danny asks, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. 

“Of course not, but she doesn’t need all the details. You two can geek out on music and sports and whatever-the-hell other things you undoubtedly have in common, without throwing in ‘oh, by the way, I’m a super famous Grammy-winning rockstar that girls and gays swoon over and write thousands of fanfictions about,” Josie replies, mustering up her best impersonation of her brother.

“Oh, God please don’t remind me of the fanfictions,” Danny buries his face in his hands, his elbows on the table. “You know mom started to read one once?” he laughs. 

Josie giggles uncontrollably, getting a few looks from the family sitting at the table next to them. “Oh, poor mom! Was it at least a sweet one?” she asks between giggles, wiping away a stray tear.

“Definitely not. I heard her talking to Karen about it. ‘Oh, Karen, it was awful! That’s my baby boy!’” Danny mimics his mother before breaking out into a loud belly laugh. 

“Stop! I’m gonna pee my pants!” Josie chokes out between giggles, wiping tears away again.

“Okay, I think we should go,” Danny says in between laughs, glancing over at the family who is clearly getting very irritated with their antics. 

Josie grabs her purse and sweeps her long, brown, wavy hair over her shoulder as they both stand up and make their way out of the restaurant. Danny follows, slipping his phone into the pocket of his khaki shortie shorts. Holding the door open for his sister, she stops and turns to him. 

“You deserve to have a little fun, big brother,” she smiles at him kindly. Danny smiles back as they begin to walk down the hallway. He wraps his strong arm around his sister’s dainty shoulders, giving her a small peck on top of her head. 

“Thanks, sis.” 

“So, since I beat your ass during our run earlier, let’s say we go play some mini golf so I can beat you at that too?”

“You’re on,” Danny replies, ruffling her hair like any annoying big brother would. Josie playfully shoves him before smoothing her hair out

“So, be honest: how many fanfictions about you have you read,” Josie asks, laughing again. Danny stays silent for a minute, his face turning red. “How many?!” she asks again, her eyes widening and jaw dropping in a big smile. 

“Just a few,” he purses his lips, trying to hold back a smile. “What about you, sis?”

“Ew. None. You know there’s nothing out there your sister would want to read,” she replies, a disgusted look on her face. 

Danny laughs loudly, “That’s a good point, but what about the Kiszkas, huh?” He wiggles his eyebrows and smirks. 

‘........just a few.” 

They both laugh loudly as they head into the elevator, making their way to the top deck. 

– – –

The sun beats down on your skin as you stretch out in the little parachute hammock you hung at the bow of the ship-one of the few places the guests can’t access. The boat is being docked and you can hear the bustle of people anxious to get to their excursions and shopping sprees. You debate on going out for a little excursion of your own once the ship starts to empty out. You love Nassau, and you are dying to explore that hidden trail again that leads up to the waterfalls. You decide to go have a little adventure, so you pack up your hammock and head back to your bunk to put on your hiking shorts, tank top, and Chacos. Once the bulk of guests have funneled off the ship, you head out and hop on one of the shuttles into town. Getting off at the last stop by the trails, you follow a group of people through the trees. You know that there is a fork in the trail that the excursionists take a right on. Once you reach it, you make a left and start the hike on your own. Some tourists have taken the trail before, but once they reach a dead end they turn around. You, however, explored your way through the trees for about another half mile last year and found a small little swimming hole with a waterfall flowing down into it. It felt like your own secret spot. A reprieve from the constant bustle of people and tiny bunk that you have to share. 

As you meander through the trees and brush, you take in the sights and sounds around you. Lush, bright green trees and bushes of all types, little patches of flowers sprouting up every few feet. The mossy, soft ground padding your footsteps. You stop for a moment and close your eyes, inhaling deeply, enjoying the sounds of birds singing and bugs chirping. The smell of the vegetation and the distant ocean overtaking your senses. You smile and increase your pace once you hear the low rumble of the waterfall. Almost there. The cool mist sprays against your sweat-dampened skin, offering relief from your slightly difficult climb. You start to make your way down to the little shore area, but stop in your tracks when you hear a splash in the water. Slowly, stealthily inching forward, you peek behind a tree to see who could have found your secret spot. Your stomach sinks for a moment, sad that you’ve lost what you thought was just yours, and hoping it’s just a skilled explorer on vacation. After a moment, the culprit emerges from the crystal clear water. 

Mess of curls, sopping wet and sticking to his sculpted cheeks, water dripping down his broad, tanned shoulders and defined pecs and abs. Your jaw drops when you see him run his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his face and closing his eyes as he tips his head back, feeling the sun’s heat wash over him after the cool dip. You can see each muscle in his arms, shoulders, and torso flex with his movements and your breathing intensifies as your eyes roam, hungry to take in as much of this Adonis-looking man as possible, taking mental pictures to commit to memory. The smattering of hair on his chest and just below his belly button look oh so enticing. You lick your lips, eyes hooded as he turns around. His shoulders flex and move and you can see the definition in his triceps as he extends his arms out to either side, as if he is welcoming nature to envelope him completely. His entire body glistens in the sun, emphasizing every detail that’s making you weak in the knees. You start to feel a little creepy ogling him like this without him knowing, but you are having a hard time tearing your eyes away, especially as you feel your swimsuit bottoms dampening from the sight of him. You force yourself to turn around, frustrated that your personal nirvana has been taken from you, and even more frustrated that you know you won’t be able to focus on anything else but the way his wet, toned body looks for weeks. 

“Do you want to join me, or would you prefer to just enjoy the view,” Danny calls out as he turns around and smirks in your direction. 

You stop in your tracks, eyes getting wide as your whole body flushes from embarrassment. Well, you’ve been caught, and it would probably be creepier to run away, so instead you slowly turn around. 

“Oh, um…I…I just got here a minute ago…I thought no one else knew about this place, so I was..uh, just…surprised.” Your face is beet red and you’re awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. You drop your backpack so you have something to busy them with, even if just for a moment. 

He chuckles and glances down for a moment. He seems a little shy, surprisingly. He sounded so confident with his invitation. 

“So…what do you say? Want to join me? The water feels amazing.” He sinks further down and slowly tips his head back, feeling the cool water tickling his scalp inch by inch.

You did come all this way, and you suppose there’s no reason not to enjoy it, even if it isn’t what you expected. You would also be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t aching to get closer to him, seeing his wet body in all its glory gleaming in the sun up close. You kick off your sandals and slowly peel off your tank top and shorts, revealing your hot pink string bikini underneath. You swear you see his eyes darken a bit as he gazes at you, but it’s hard to tell with the distance between you two. You’ve always felt comfortable and confident with your body, but suddenly you feel very vulnerable and exposed. You muster up a weak smile as you slowly walk toward him, dipping your toe in the water. It’s a shock to the system after sweating in the humid heat during your hike. A shiver runs through your spine, and you're not sure if it’s from the cold water, or the man walking toward you, the water receding down his body with each step. He offers his hand to help you over the slightly rocky shore, as you gingerly step in. You breathe out a quick puff of air, sinking further into the water as he walks backward. Your nipples harden as the water reaches them, and you notice Danny’s gaze move to them for just a moment. God, he is just so beautiful. His sun-kissed face is practically glowing, emphasizing his features. You get a better look at his boyish freckles dusted over his cheeks and perfect, sharp nose-a slight curve at the end of it. His eyes are a lighter hue in the sunlight, and a few droplets of water drip down his face, one drop catching on his long, dark lashes. He blinks it away, and you notice a rogue little freckle just under his right eye. You suddenly have the urge to kiss it softly, causing you to look away in embarrassment. Once you’re both fully immersed in the water he releases your hand and moves to his back, floating peacefully as he closes his eyes. 

“So, you’ve been here before?” he asks, eyes still closed, looking so peaceful and happy in this moment. 

You bob in the water, using this opportunity to drink him in some more while his eyes are closed. The water ebbs and flows across his hard, yet impossibly soft-looking chest and stomach, a little pool of liquid settling in his belly button. You notice he has those little yellow shorts on again. The water lapping against his legs causes his shorts to alternate between flowing around him and sticking to his legs, showing off his muscle definition. He must run every day to get muscles like that. 

Snapping yourself out of it, you reply, “Yeah quite a few times, actually. I thought I was the only one who knew about this place. Have you been here before? I’m not even sure most of the locals know about it.”

“No, I haven’t, but I like to explore, and I have a pretty good sense of direction. I just headed the same general direction that I knew the falls were at, and eventually found my way. Once I heard the water, I just followed the sound. How did you find it?” 

“Actually, the exact same way,” you chuckle, moving onto your back as well, floating next to him. 

Your hands brush together for a moment, the water pulling you closer together. The electricity that ran through your body caused your eyes to widen in surprise. 

Danny feels that same electricity. If he is being honest, he felt it the moment he realized you were watching him from behind the trees. He never thought of himself as an exhibitionist, but he just couldn’t help showing off what you were clearly enjoying. Plus, he hoped it would entice you to stay. Imagining seeing you in a little bikini he hoped you were sporting made his blood run hot through his veins and surge down to his groin. Actually seeing it made him very glad you were in cold water. 

“Are you disappointed?” Danny asked after a moment. 

You looked over in surprise and he returned your gaze. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“That I found your spot. I assume you staked a claim since you said you didn’t know anyone else knew about it, and if you’ve been here several times with no one knowing about it, you probably decided to keep it to yourself. So…are you disappointed?” 

You stay silent for a moment, because you did feel disappointment…at first. But now, you feel content sharing it with him. “No. I’m not disappointed at all,” you reply with a soft smile. 

“Good!” he responds cheerily, popping up to swim a few laps around the small pool. 

You giggle as the water splashes you before dipping under, washing away the sweat (and probably dirt) from your face. Popping back up, you run your hands over your eyes and through your hair, smoothing it back and away from your face. You open your eyes and catch Danny staring. A smirk forms on your face when you think about the role reversal. Danny doesn’t look away this time. Instead he slowly swims closer to you, keeping eye contact as his body floats mere inches from yours. 

“Wanna play?” he asks, his lips curling up into a boyish smile that takes your breath away. 

“Play?” you ask breathlessly, matching his grin. 

“Yeah,” he grins wider, flashing those bright white teeth. 

You giggle, heart racing over how adorable he is. “What, like Marco Polo or something, or were you thinking mermaids?” you laugh. 

“Both sound fun,” he chuckles, “but I say Marco Polo. I’ll go first!”

He looks so excited that it makes your heart ache. It seems so silly, but why not? Who says two 20-something year olds can’t play Marco Polo and have fun like kids get to? 

“Okay yeah! Let’s do it!” you giggle and wait for him to close his eyes. 

“1…2…3…” he starts to count. 

“Wait!” you stop him, “What are we counting to?” 

“Hmmm, it’s a pretty small swimming hole. Let’s say 10. Sound good?” 

“Yeah! Okay, start over,” you giggle again. You haven’t giggled like this in longer than you can remember. You push away a tiny pang of sadness, realizing how truly lonely you’ve been. 

“Okay,” he grins again, starting back up, “1…2…”

You dip under the water and swim as silently as possible to the little overhang next to the falls- almost like a shallow cave- trying not to giggle in anticipation. 

“9…10! Marco!” he calls out, swimming around excitedly. God, it must be nice to still hold on to that child-like excitement over a little game like this. 

“Polo!” you call out, hoping the sound of the falls throws off your location. 

He swims in the opposite direction and you throw your hand over your mouth, trying not to giggle. You’re so giggly right now. It feels foreign, but so nice. 

“Marco!” he calls out again from further away. 

“Polo!” 

He starts to swim in your direction and you feel the same anxious excitement you did as a kid, playing in your parents’ pool with your cousins. 

“Marco!”

“Polo” you call out as quietly as possible so he can barely hear you. 

“Hey, that’s not fair! You’re cheating!” he complains, but his grin tells you he’s still having a blast. 

You want to argue with him, but you stay silent, not wanting to give away your position, especially since he is getting dangerously close. He approaches you, under the overhang where it’s much quieter and has an echo. 

“Marco!” he calls out, a small look of shock on his face, not realizing where he is. 

“Polo,” you say softly. 

He darts toward you and you squeal, swimming away. He catches your foot and you laugh loudly, trying to swim away from him. 

“Gotcha!” he exclaims, opening his eyes. 

Danny’s breath is almost taken away seeing the way your grin lights up your whole face. Pure joy. You’ve only looked nervous or out of breath around him so far. He already thought you were beautiful, but that look…the way you bit your bottom lip and giggled as you looked at him. He can’t look away. He swims closer to you, inches away again. 

“Your turn.” His voice is low and barely above a whisper. Your breath catches and your eyes roam across his chest and shoulders, settling on his neck-droplets of water slowly gliding down over and around his Adam’s apple, like yesterday, but today it is so much more enticing being alone and secluded with him. 

“Okay,” you breathe, slowly swimming back to the center of the pool. “You ready?” you call out once you reach your destination. 

“Yeah!” 

“Alright, 1…2…3…” you count to 10 immediately yelling, “Marco!”

“Polo!” His voice is like velvet, and it makes it hard to focus. He’s actually really well-spoken, now that you think about it. He enunciates well, more so than most men his age, and his pitch isn’t low, but the timbre of his voice is. It makes you wonder what he would sound like speaking softly in your ear.

You shake yourself out of your daydream, swim toward the sound and call out again, “Marco!” 

“Polo!”

He sounds a lot closer now, and you’re surprised he’s not trying to be quieter. 

“Marco!” You swim closer to the falls, the spray hitting your face. 

“Polo,” he says quietly, but only because it sounds like he is right next to you. 

“Marco,” you say softly, reaching out and feeling the water falling onto your hand. 

“Polo,” he whispers. You can feel his hot breath inches from your face. 

You touch his chest and open your eyes. The water from the falls assaults his back as he leans in, his lips so close you can already feel them. You suck in a breath, looking down at his lips…so soft and supple and oh so inviting. You place your other hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath, his skin so warm and soft, the muscles firm under your fingertips. Just how you imagined. 

“Can I kiss you, y/n” he whispers, his lips so close that they brush yours when he says your name. 

“Yes,” you breathe, running your hands up to his shoulders. You're so eager and dying to claw at his shoulders, latch onto his lips and steal the breath from his lungs, but you let him take the reins. 

He moves in slowly, so slowly you don’t even know how it’s possible considering how little space there is between you already. You feel your hardened nipples rub against his chest, and you feel hot to your core. You want to devour him. He finally locks his lips with yours, softly. Oh so softly. You let out a small whimper. He tastes so much better than you could have dreamed. His lips are warm and gentle and they mold perfectly with yours. He settles one hand on your hip under the water, and caresses your back with the other. It feels so intimate that your heart aches. You glide your hands around his shoulders to his back, one settling there while the other moves up and snakes through his wet curls. Your lips intertwine in a perfectly choreographed dance. You still feel the urgency to taste more of him, but God this feels so good-savoring one another. He introduces his tongue, lightly brushing it against your lower lip, and you happily welcome it, opening your mouth and softly licking back, your tongues now entering this slow dance. He pulls you flush with his body and you gasp, feeling his groin against your heat. He’s already getting hard, and you relish in it. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders as he wraps your legs around his waist, both of you still bobbing in the water and giggling when you move toward the falls, the water breaking your kiss. You both swim back over a couple of feet, not leaving your embrace. You take over, gripping his shoulder and kissing him deeply, moaning into his mouth. He whimpers softly-a sound that you will most definitely be committing to memory-and runs his hand through your hair, holding you steady as he pulls back from the kiss for a moment. 

“I…I need just a minute,” he says with a small laugh. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” you say, embarrassed as you pull away. 

“No! God, no, please don’t leave.” He gently pulls you back to him and wraps his arms around you, caressing your back again. “I just…if I don’t stop now…Well, I don’t know how I’ll be able to hold back,” he confesses, looking down shyly. God, your heart is aching for this man you barely know. 

“It’s okay,” you breathe, gently guiding his chin up with your knuckle. “We should probably head out soon anyway. It looks like an afternoon storm is rolling in.” You both glance up at the sky and see dark gray clouds forming overhead. 

“Yeah…I guess we should,” he says, sounding disappointed, but somehow relieved at the same time. “Plus, you have a performance tonight, right?” he asks. 

“Yeah, I do,” you reply with a small smile, looking intrigued. “You looked for me on the itinerary?”

He looks down again shyly. It’s so cute how nervous he is right now. You thought he was just so confident and sure of himself before. “Yeah, I did. Josie and I thought maybe we would bring our parents tonight. They would love it.” 

“That’s sweet,” you smile. “I would love to see you there again. Any requests?”

“Anything by Elton John,” he replies as you both start to swim to shore. 

“That, I can definitely do,” you giggle again as you both step out. 

Pulling towels from your respective backpacks, you dry off quickly before throwing on your clothes and shoes. Pulling on your packs, you make your way to the trail. 

“I hope we can beat the storm,” you say, worriedly. 

“Wanna race?” he asks, flashing that adorable grin again. 

You laugh and dart off in front of him, before he catches up to you, grabbing you by the waist and tickling you to slow you down. 

“Cheater!” you accuse, laughing loudly as you run after him, a smile taking over your whole face. A smile you hadn’t felt in such a long time.

Again...I'm a slow-burner! More spice and sibling love in chapter 3!

Go to Chapter 3

@spark-my-nature @dazeebean @smoking-jakelane @dogwood-blossom

#danny wagner gvf #danny wagner fic #danny wagner #danny gvf #greta van fleet fic #greta van fic #greta van fleet #Spotify

[vancehopperenthusiast]

Maybe I’m your soulmate. || Robin Arellano

Summary- the week you move to Denver, is also the week robin gets suspended. what happens when Finney welcomes you with open arms and you two quickly become friends, bestfriends even (I'll give you a hint, robin isn't too happy.)

Tags- studying, enemies to ??? flirters?? , group project, best friends, fuckin moose, jealous robin, that's all i think

CWS- cursing ..? i think thats it

Notes- HIHI uhm idk if im gonna write a part 2 for this atm but if you guys want one i will! uhm also sorry for shitty grammar LMAO i suck at stuff like that

Moving was never easy, especially not when you join a new school in the middle of the year.

Although you quickly got situated when you met Finney Blake, you and he had been friends for a little over a week & it was safe to say you considered him your best friend.

That Friday morning when you walked to school with Finney and Gwen like usual, the second you neared the school, chanting was heard

“FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT” the group yelled while a taller, much paler boy spoke, “I will pound you like a nail you scrawny little shithead.”

“then do it, unless you’re scared.”

You looked at Finney, “Who the fuck has the balls to fight moose?”



“Robin Arellano.” Gwen answered, “Who? Am I supposed to know him?” You were bombarded with questions as a fight broke out.

You watched intently while listening to your answer, “Robin was Finney’s best friend until he got sent to his grandma's for a week because he got suspended, he’s also the toughest kid in school next to Pinball Vance Hopper.”

“Was Finney's best friend?” you repeated

“Yeah Robin could never call so we kinda just drifted, I was sad for a while but then you came into the picture,” Finney spoke up at last.

you were about to say something else until the actual fight broke out, Robin demolishing Moose, he probably broke his nose.

“Holy shit!” Gwen gasped, her mouth agape, “Let’s go guys.” Finney tugged at Gwen’s arm that wouldn’t budge. When the girl finally moved she was already yapping about it.

“What the hell!! That was Moose!” the brunette said agitatedly.

“I don’t care” The short-haired brunette rolled his eyes, looking to the side.

“He probably deserved it!” You laughed, “Moose is a giant asshole, Finn.”

He nearly responded but someone else did for him, “Hey Finn, what’s happening” You rose your brow at the nickname, a hand snaked around his shoulder.

“Robin, you just came back! You can’t be getting into fights already” Finney laughed, shrugging off his arm.

“Moose needed the beat down if you ask me, ain’t that right Gwen?” He leaned forward, turning his head towards Gwen and your direction.

When he saw you instead of Gwen his eyebrows furrowed in confusion; “Who’s this? Your girlfriend? ooh, Donna won’t be too happy to hear that you’re two-timing Finn” He joked.

You smiled, “Nah me and Finn are just friends. I try giving advice but uh you know how he is, stubborn and hardheaded." you gave Finney a nudge in his side, and he rolled his eyes in response.



"finn? yo i thought i was the only one who called you that? since I'M your bestfriend n all. is she a bully? i don't fight girls but i know people who do." the long haired brunette said intimidatingly.

"hey man chill, finney is allowed to have other friends! especially after you ditched him!" gwen defended.

"i didn't fucking ditch him! i was suspended and couldn't talk to anyone for like a week!" the bandanaed boy exclaimed, an offensive look on his face.

you and finney both opened your mouth to say something, but the bell rung, and students started filling to their classes. "gotta go. later finn, later gwen. Arellano" you nodded before walking off, making your way to your class. shuffling with the other students.

"alright class, as you know.. or not seeing as most of you cannot read," the teacher sighed, his monotone voice staying through out his lecture, "you will have two big projects, middle of the year and end of the year. today marks the OFFICAL start of the end of the school year, hold your applause. you will be working in pairs of two, on the classical big bang theory." the teacher huffed and began explaining the rest of the project.

youy groaned quietly, putting your head in your hands, what if you get paired up with braxton rose? he was the worst! he put gum in your hair before winter break, it took hours to get it out.

"now i will be announcing the pairs. boo who cry me a river ashley. you're not getting paired up with vance OR kamala." vance was the boyfriend, kamala was the bestie. if you couldnt tell.

"right so first we have.." the names ran through and through your ears until you heard your name at last. "Y/N and.. Robin. thats all class, now you can go. projects are due next week."  you gasped, robin was in this class? the fuck? you hadn't even noticed. i mean you could always ask mr green to switch partners, but his divorce was already stressing him out. being a middle school teacher is even worse, so nah not a chance.

begrudgingly, you pushed your self out of the plastic chair, stretching  your joints. you grabbed your stuff and turned to find robin, your eyes didnt have to strain themselves for long because he was right at your desk. "hey robin, meet up at the library, five? bring your shit. we'll start planning?" you asked assertively.

"uhm can't we do it right after school? maybe i've got plans. plus we have study hall, we can do it then?" he tried his best to reschedule.

you sighed, "do you have something to do at five exactly?"

robin smiled, shaking his head left to right, "Nah, sorry. I'll see you after school?"

"alright see ya," you groaned, mentally slapping yourself in the face, robin areallno? of all people. Braxton would be better than this.

the day finished swiftly. leaving you an hour and a half to get home, freshen up and get to the library on time.

Keep reading

you had barely made it on time. three minutes till the clock struck five, when you entered the deserted library, apart from a few nerds studying, robin was nowhere to be found. you scoffed, sitting down at a table in the back, pulling your books out, shaking your leg anxiously until he showed up.

it was about five-ten when he did. you had sat there looking like a loser! he walked in coolly, sliding into a seat next to you. "you're late."

"sorry I fell asleep anyways I'm ready to work now." he cheesed, opening up his notebook, and helping



you two had worked for about twenty minutes before you hit a gigantic boulder. a boulder that stopped your work entirely for half an hour. "this isn't gonna work. you're too overbearing." he ran a hand through his hair.

had it always been that pretty? maybe it just looked better now that there wasnt crimson colored liquid in it.

you shrugged the thought off, "would you be more comfy in more well know space? we could go to yours and work on it there?"



"fuck no! you could be a murderer for all i know." he tried his best to look intimidating but his eyes weren't completely objecting to the scenerio.

you smiled cheekily, looking him in his eyes for the first time in a while leaning up in your seat slightly to get closer to him, "maybe i'm your soulmate." you could see him get flustered. it was almost embarrassing for you.



just then the old timey grandfather clock rang, "ah thats me. see ya robin." grabbing your things and walking out.

robin sat there however, what the hell just happened? were you flirting? wasn't this a rivalry for the companionship of finney blake? yeah okay that was weird. however, what was weirder is the fact that he wasn't absolutely disgusted by the fact that you were flirting with him.





well shit

#robin arellano #finney blake #griffin stagg #paperboy #vance hopper #the black phone #pinball #pinball vance #pinball vance hopper #robin arellano x reader #the black phone x reader

[starzshopoflove]

Read the fine print

(141 x F!Reader)

Notes: This is concept is taken from herethereb3dragons on AO3 following a similar plot concept but not the same. Yes this is a omegaverse story I have no apologizes I wanna feed my brain worms.(Will be switching between first and second person in this writing) Summary: Lost your job after finding out your boss was committing federal crimes and the local economy crashes? Omega Re-housing services suddenly deciding to tighten their requirements? Sick of living in a shitty apartment alone everyday with no one to come home too? No problem! Just become a Contacted Companion to a military group overseas and never look back, full proof planning right?! A/N: This is a more intro chapter idk how to explain it but you'll get it when you start reading

WC: 2.4k

I could’ve been a nurse if I wanted too, or maybe I would have opened a cafe. Probably not, I hate blood, well I don't hate it. I just don't want to be around it everyday, I don't mind a cut or a ugly scab but then again that's always on my body. Owning my own business would stress me out, I can barely handle being 3 days behind on work, imagine not making enough to keep the shop open for another month I’d go into shock. 

On the other hand I’d probably not be in the position I'm in now If I had my own business or hell a medical degree. To be fair I couldn't predict this, I couldn't predict any of this no one could and if they did there’d be hell to pay from every single person in that fat shiny building downtown. Everything happened so fast, the market value crash, our manager getting arrested for embezzlement, the company housing getting repossessed, all our assets getting seized and sold. I wish I could lie and say it was a blur but it wasn’t, call it a trauma response but I remember every detail of that day from the moment the building shut down to signing away my dignity. 

***************************************************************

Everything hurts, your back, your eyes and your legs. Oh yeah and you're sweating, gross right? Isn't it wonderful that they stuck the little archivist all the way in the back of the office in her own little office where she can do all her “important” work. All the way where no one can smell or see where they’re hiding all the omega employees, what a coincidence.

Yeah it's mid september and it's chilly outside but you’re boiling in here now and  the fabric of your jumper is sticking to you and everyone in here can smell you now. At this point all you wanted to do was run back to your office, peel off your jumper and wipe away all your sweat while drowning yourself in scent masker. Honestly it's humiliating, getting burnt up in your tiny room then being forced by your superior to trolly off all the files to the accounting department upstairs. 

You weren't in any danger of course most people were civilized and wouldnt attack you on sight or in this case on the whiff of unmarked omega scent. It still worried you, but no one could touch you here, not while you were an employee, not while you were safe under the watching eye of the corporate security cameras watching everyones every move. 

Doesn’t that make you feel a little safer? Always being watched? Yeah they could fire you for the littlest thing but you could be safe. The camera doesn't discriminate, the camera can't lie, the camera shows what happens and doesn't care if you’re Alpha or Omega.That reminder makes you feel a little safer when you're pushing your little cart into the elevator pushing the button for the 26th floor. It's not as hot in here as it was downstairs. 

You lean back a little on the bar between you and the mirror while your eyes stay trained on the little black screen of red letters rolling up as the elevator dragged you upstairs. Do you ever do that thing where you stare at the mirror like your face is gonna change the longer you look at it? You do now. 

Just standing in front of it poking at yourself, making sure there's no crust in your eyes, sometimes bearing your teeth to check that you don't have anything stuck in them. If you know what was going to happen you might have spent longer staring at yourself, capturing the moment maybe. 

You look tired, you are tired. Hollow eyes stared back at you in the mirror forcing you to look at how empty you were from the inside out. It was always day in day out move on. You didn't have time to think about mating, joining a pack hell even having kids. Wake up. Work. Go home. Trash TV. Sleep.

You try smiling and letting that go seeing if it would change anything. It didn't. Mirrors were more indifferent to you. Check if you’re clean and move on with your day not thinking too much about it. Elevators forced you to look at yourself they always do. There's no one else in here but you, the mirror and those 2 doors.

The little hum of mediocre elevator music churning out whatever pop tune combination the media had coined dead would be your last unknown moment of peace. 

When those elevator doors opened and you pushed out your little cart all you felt was the sudden slam of a body knocking your poor cart away. That alone ripped you out of your tired little haze forcing you to look around the room and see what was actually happening. 

The accounting department of U&G Food Supplising Inc.? In shambles 

The air of the floor felt thick, suffocating. Too many people were up out of their chairs, people were paired off to the side staring into their papers like life was drained out of them. Pale faces, and sweaty hands clambering around wire phones tuned out voices shouting into their speakers. The stress off of them was enough to start scaring you know. 

It was everywhere, one of the brokers was seated back in his chair holding papers in both hands with his phone pressed onto his ear yelling incomprehensible jargon into it while his eyes dizzied out on the papers he was holding. Others looked like they already lost hope standing in the middle with empty blank expressions that told you enough, they were probably savoring the last few moments of normalcy. 

A heavy buzz cut the air and that's when everything stopped. The market just closed, everything was so quiet. People stopped talking, staring at the big screen hooked up on the wall where a chart was displayed with its thick red line descending into the negatives. 

Papers were in the air, Phones were rattling off like crazy, Desks were flipped over and files covered the floor. Out of panic you might have started slamming the button on the elevator faster but you got the other side of the coin and was stumped in shock and maybe a little anger. 

All you wanted was a quiet boring life, is that so much to ask for? You got your degree in the most boring field possible, you got a job at the most mundane company that would hire you, you got a quiet little apartment tucked in the dreary part of town where nothing happens and you thought you finally won. Small victories you thought, I wont get forced to mate with anyone here, I can pass as a beta here, I can, I can, I can't. 

In hindsight you should've seen it coming, Omega Rehousing Authorities were getting stricter, The company was losing money and you were ignoring all of it. Until now where you were trapped in the corner of the accounting department where everyone was screaming and panicking when all you were trying to do was bundle up all your files and run back to your stuffy little room. 

Staying on the ground was safer then standing up I think, you can just stay down here on your knees trying to gather all the papers you can so you can slam on the elevator as hard as possible to get you back to safety. Yeah! Just keep grabbing papers, don't think about the Alpha across the room practically tearing out that betas throat, or those 2 slightly to your right scruffing at each other to grab as much cash as possible. You won't get in trouble right? You're just an archivist delivering papers, you don't know what's happening but that's a good thing. You don't know what's happening and it's bad because now you're holding all your papers to your chest and you don't have any scent masker practically leaking your scent everywhere while there's so much yelling.

Keep ignoring it you’ll be alright, there's police here but they're not here for you, keep ignoring it. Yes the screaming and yelling is getting louder while there are people getting arrested but you're still under your illusion of safety so keep ignoring it. There's nothing wrong, get your papers and leave there's nothing wrong you can't hear anything no one's calling your name just stand up and leave.

But there is someone calling your name, your full name.  With your Identification number. 

Pulling your head up felt like dragging it out of water and meeting the eyes of 3 ORA agents in crispy black suits and sunglasses did not help with your anxiety when you were stuck down on the floor. 

“We’re with the Omega Re-Housing Authority, we’d like to speak with you” 

_____________

That's when everything started moving faster and phasing out until I realized I was in a new room. The room felt sterile, steel table, plain gray walls, the uncomfortable plastic chair I was stuck in. My heart was rattling inside my chest and I kept breathing in for more air but every breath felt stale and dry no matter how many times I sipped at the little plastic cup they gave me. 

Why was I here? What did I do? I didn't know what was going on, I had all my paperwork, I had a job and a house they can't take me away can they?

That creaky door opening and shutting dragged my attention away to the ORA agent in front of me. They look less threatening without the glasses, it doesn't help much but seeing their eyes makes them look more human. He looked like he was pitying me and that just made the bile in me churn, I felt like I was in trouble. 

He took his seat right in front of me, placing down a plain manilla folder on the cold steel table before he folded and placed his hands on top. God, when he looked at me I thought I was gonna be sick. I bet he could feel the fear weeping out of me, I didn't have anything on me. I didn't feel safe without my scent masker or some sort of suppressant. I didn't make it this far passing as a Beta without them, now I felt like I was waving a white flag screaming Omega.

All the anxiety from years of drifting through life poured through you since you got your class as omega. You wanted to hide in a thousand layers never to be seen again. Where no one could see, touch or hear you. An isolation but a safe comfort like how you made your home. The one you will shortly no longer be able to afford. 

You tried making friends you really did, you had friends but then something inside you would rear its ugly head out and whisper for you too leave them alone how much you're bothering them can't you see?

 So you would let it slip through the cracks. One missed plan turns to another and suddenly you spend every afternoon curled up on your beat couch watching drag reruns on cable tv in your dingy apartment thinking this is better than being out and feeling your stress turn your guts around.  

Now look at you! Sitting in a ORA “interview room” probably about to be shipped out to some random alpha in the middle of nowhere shucking corn for the rest of your life popping out babies you can't afford. The worst part is no one would notice! 

“You’re not in trouble Ma’am”

‘Yeah thanks for that buddy.’ I wish I could say that but I just kept staring at him, more watching his lips move than hearing him speak. I caught some words here and there of “Bankruptcy” and “Liquidation”. By the end of it from what I can tell is Im unemployed and soon to be homeless. I could move in with my mom, or maybe my sister then ORA couldn't relocate me at least, they won't have the chance to. 

The last time I sent my papers my mom passed as the register on my guardian substitute. I'm not sure if they’ll take it again, Beta guardians work but If regulations keep changing they might start demanding she terminate her rights and they assign me to an Alpha. 

How sick is that? I spend my whole life fighting tooth and nail acting like nothing scares me, trying to prove I can fend for myself and don't need a pack. I did everything by the book and I still got stuck in the chair everyone told me I’d never end up in.

I should be angry, I should be boiling and here I am shaking like a leaf in this chair playing in the pliant and meek omega stereotype, fantastic.

Sliding the folder over to me on the table the ORA agent opened up the folder, sliding his hands over to his pocket to pull out a fountain pen. He cleared his throat almost condescendingly as he uncapped his pen, tapping it onto the paper in the folder. 

Is it weird I forgot he was there? Everything started meshing together when I heard him say I wasn't in trouble. I mean I didn't completely forget, his scent was basically choking me forcing his presence to be made aware. I'm listening now but I wish I could roll over and sink into the floor.

“ORA would like to offer you an employment opportunity, aboard.”

***************************************************************

 TERMS OF EMPLOYMENT 

1.)i.) Signing party will be placed under the employment of STATION CHIEF KATE LASWELL and CAPTAIN JONATHAN PRICE

  ii.)Singing party will be taken as a pack member to Task Force 141, bearing responsibilities of archival tasks, moral support, and contracted companionship. 

2.) Signing party will be salaried, paid biweekly on fixed income. 

   i.) Signing party will be provided private quarters on base 

   ii.) Signing parties quarters will be located by the nearest employer 

  iii.) Signing party will not be obligated to travel in deployment or relocated without prior consent 

iv.) Signed parties quarters will be furnished as usual, any additions will be added upon request. 

3.) Signed party is under no obligation to complete orders from any authority not listed within this contract. 

SIGNATURE : ________________     INITIALS: ______________

“You gotta be fucking kidding me”

I hope u guys like it please leave a comment if you do and dont be afraid to ask or suggest any ideas you would like too see from me in other works or in this! - lots of love star <3

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod simon riley #ghost call of duty #john price #john price x reader #john price x you #john price x y/n #captain price #captain john price #john price cod #call of duty #cod mwii #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick mw2 #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap cod #soap x reader #soap x you #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish x reader

[aqours]

do you think ashley and andrew would have kids

(pre-emptive mentions for abortion and child abuse)

i've talked about this extensively with a friend and i'm very excited i can share this now actually!!! please let me answer this with basically a mini fanfic summary

two actually. it's incredibly fucked up lmao. ashley gets pregnant and her response is IMMEDIATLY oh yeah no fuck that i'm getting an abortion but because of all the demonic satanic shit that fetus has literally been influenced by otherworldly energy and it just doesn't take. like literally not. ashley goes to get an abortion and by the end the abortionist is dead, starts heavily drinking, at one point she just pays a guy to punch her as hard as he can in the stomach a few times but it doesn't work so anyways that's how their first kid is born! ashley fucking hates them and makes that clear every day of that probably future anti-christ's life. she pushes him down the stairs at one point and he's just in the couch unharmed afterwards, abandons him in the middle of nowhere on the interstate and when she gets home there he is watching tv. she just groans and just accepts this is life now and any attempt to get rid of this kid is gonna be thwarted by demonic looney toons bullshit.

she hates the fact this kid gets in the way of her time with her brother SO MUCH its unreal and probably tried using him as a tar soul for a demon offering once but it didn't work since he's also partially demon (she had a backup guy just in case though). at one point though he asks "hey can you make me a little brother or sister" and her response is "i fucking hate having you why the FUCK would i have a second one" to which he's like "if i have someone to play with i'll stop bothering you as much-" and that's when ashley stops taking birth control without telling andrew

she actually treats her daughter MUCH better because not only did she plan this one but she tries to spoil her to one-up mommy too. she tries to spoil her daughter just so she can one-up her mom's memory of being a shitty parent to her by heavily favoring her second-born instead. like if the first kid asked if she could drive them to the candy store her response would be "fuck off and die." her daughter does though? well she doesn't drive her but she does go "awww sorry kid, gonna go on a date with your dad soon- but here's an extra $20 if you wanna go walk, get yourself something nice ok?" her daughter is three things: yet another way to tether andy, a way to make her first kid shut up, and perhaps most importantly to her a way to one-up her mom's spirit in hell

andrew DOES try to be a good dad especially in the routes where he's more assertive but he still sucks shit lmao. it's pretty obvious he's also not equipped for this emotionally or mentally and his co-dependence with his sister takes priority over all. they both THINK they're better parents than mr. and mrs. graves but the apple failed to fall far from the tree it's just another awful generation of this family who themselves will probably just continue to perpetuate poison forever

tl;dr: yes they do and its awful. poison simply produces more poison in the end

#the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #ashley graves #andrew graves #gravecest #coffincest #ashley x andrew #starposts #abortion cw #answered #anonymous #lmk what any of you think #i'm writing a fanfic that also revolves around ashley having a kid but it's completely different dynamic wise to this one #child abuse cw