#Nor censors himself

[yes-divine-ruler]

HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Can you do a 20, 27, 31 and 93 with a virgin!fem!reader x Kai Anderson where he finds out by some darkweb site that the reader is a virgin, and he gives her her first time lol <3

Benefactor - Kai Anderson

x virgin!fem!reader

cw: smut with a plot, corruption and size kink, loss of virginity, mentions of a knife

wc: I cut it down to 3.7k lolll!

@evanpetersfansblog @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud@laynna-mcknight @humdrumexistence @simp4petermaximoff @evan4ever @paujmr @jangsuzchap @meganxfox @divineruler @spill-the-t @hihidora

Kai didn't know what he was searching for. Until he found you. 

The basement was dark, the only light evidently emitting from the desktop screen. Kai had found himself down a deep, dark rabbit hole of drugs, guns and all sorts of illegal videos. He'd spent so much wasted time consumed by the screen in front of him, he'd almost scrolled passed your ad. 

Take my Virginity, Give me $10k for College

To say Kai was intrigued was an understatement. He'd clicked on your ad with curiosity, sighing deeply as he flicked through your photos. Kai could feel the innocence radiating off you from the screen. To think such a sweet girl was so eager to give it all away made Kai's cock twitch. 

He zoned in on your photos, leaning forward with his nose almost pressed against the desktop. He couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to twirl your soft hair around his fingers. How it would smell. How gentle you'd be, and how easy it would be to stimulate you. How supple your skin would be under his calloused fingers and every little whine he'd force out of you. How tight and wet you'd be, squirming under him as you squeezed around his cock. Milking him of all the cum he had. 

After almost no consideration, Kai decided that you'd have to be his for the taking. 

So he messaged you. 

You were surprised to see that your ad had gotten some attention. You'd wondered how long it would take for some sick, twisted pervert to take the bait. The answer: one day. His profile was so unknown; no photo or anything about himself that might interest you. You almost didn't open your inbox. Yet, your eyebrows knitted in confusion opening his message. 

hey, 30 yo and willing to do whatever it takes to be the one to fill ur dreams

Thinking your ad would attract men much older, you were pleasantly surprised there was only a decade difference between you. You bite down on your thumb nail, your chin rested on the palm of your hand in concentration. 

a picture, maybe? 

Anticipating his response, the fingers on your other hand drum softly against your desk. He was just online. 

Within minutes, he'd sent back his response. Your gaze followed your cursor as you clicked on a censored .jpeg file. Your surprised reaction, instant, as you drank in his appearance. Handsome, dark eyes and long, blue hair. He wore a long black coat. his legs clad in black jeans. Combat boots on his feet. He looked like he belonged on the dark web, but never in a million years did you think he'd click on your ad. Nor did you think you'd be remotely attracted to the person who did. 

Your potential benefactor went by the name of Kai. He was strangely polite and considerate. The thought that maybe he wasn't real crossed your mind. 

Despite your suspicions, you'd found yourself parked outside Kai's desolate motel the next day. This was your last hope at a future, you had nothing to lose. 

Putting on a parka and beanie, you exited your car. You knew that Kai would be in room 206. With the cash. All you had to do was knock a few times. 

With a burst of courage, you set out to find room 206. Your teeth chattered in the cold. You tried hugging your parka close for warmth. You drone in on the room numbers as you ascend the outdoor stairwell to the second floor. Without long, you were in front of Kai's room. 

Suddenly hesitant, you freeze parallel with the door. Fear will not get the better of you. He won't hurt you, you have a photo of his license. 

You finally knock on his door. 

It felt like years before the door finally opened. From the inside, the heater warms your shaking body immediately. 

You look up from your shoes to see Kai looking down at you. Somehow he looked even better than the grainy photos. He smiled as stepped off to the side to allow you room to enter. You take the invitation. A sense of relief washes over you as the blood rushes back to your fingers. 

"Hey."

Kai slides the deadbolt and his hands sit in his coat pockets. The coat he wore in his photos. 

"Hey," you reply softly, observing Kai's face. 

"Nice to finally meet you, doll," Kai removes his hand from his pocket to offer you a handshake. 

You slide your cold hand into his, satisfied with his warmth. 

"You too, I didn't think you were real," you blurt nervously. Kai turns to hang his coat behind the door. 

"Real as it gets," Kai chuckles, "I'm honoured I get to help with college."  

Kai offers to take your parka. He hangs it with his own jacket and turns towards the bed. He sits on the edge and pats the spot next to him. 

You fidget with the sleeves as you sit beside him. You notice his intoxicating scent immediately. 

"Still cold?" He asks. Every word he speaks is accompanied by a minty coolness. 

"Huh?"

Kai points at your chest. Right to where your nipples stand out from under your white shirt. You offer Kai an awkward smile. 

"Oh, it's okay, it's warm in here, really," you reassure. Kai just laughs. 

Shifting closer to you, he places a hand on your knee. Your body stiffens in surprise. His strong, veiny hand grips onto the skin of your thigh. You shiver to his touch. 

"Where's the money?" You ask, attempting to remind Kai why you're here. 

"In the bag. Have a look." 

Kai gets up and encourages you to follow him to the corner of the room. A small bag sits on a dining table. You watch in anticipation as he unzips the bag, revealing a small stack of cash. The band reads "$10,000". 

"Can I touch it?" You question with innocent eyes. 

He nods and passes you the cash. It takes everything in you not to bring it to your nose to smell it. It would be yours soon. 

You secure the money back in the bag and follow Kai back to the bed. 

Before you can sit beside him, Kai grabs a hold of your hips. He positions you between his legs without a word. 

"Why are you still a virgin?" He speaks suddenly. His eyes hungrily rake down your body. He thought he might break you if he squeezed too tight.  

"Um, I dont know. Never felt comfortable with anyone, I guess," you reply timidly. Kai's fingers begin to bunch up the hem of your shirt. 

"Hm," Kai’s lips form a thin, straight line, "is it okay if I take this off?" 

You nod and allow Kai to pull your shirt over your head. You hadn’t worn a bra underneath. Suddenly, your bare breasts were on display for him.  

He groans as you stand tall for him. You inhale a few deep breaths to try ease your nervousness. 

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that?" Kai's hands return to your body. His thumbs trace up from your hips and settle under your tits. You'd never experienced something so intimate before. His hands felt like velvet and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. 

"Thank you," you mutter reluctantly. You bite down hard on your bottom lip as Kai’s thumbs flick over your sensitive, already taut nipples. 

His teasing eases as his hands travel back down the curves of your body. 

"Is this okay for you?" He asks sweetly, "have you ever had someone touch you before?"

"Yes,” you squeak out, “and no." 

His fingers hook into the waistband of your tights and panties. He pulls them off your legs agonisingly slow. 

A string of arousal drips from your core and sticks to your panties.  

"Does it feel good? To be touched?" Kai already knows the answer. He silently admires your bare and vulnerable body standing before him. He loves how easily you respond to his touch. 

"Yes," you admit, squeezing your legs together in an attempt to build some friction. Your body was so easily aroused, it was pathetically humiliating. 

"Lay down," Kai instructs, shifting to give you the space to lay on the bed.  

You lay back on the bed with shaky breaths. Your legs bend at the knee and your ankles stay clamped together. 

Kai steps away from the bed and strips to a pair of grey boxers. The sight alone ignites a dull pulse between your legs. 

He looked like he’d walked straight out of a men’s fitness magazine. Kai was beautiful and carried this dangerous confidence with him. For a moment, it felt like you’d met a more traditional way, and not though the dark web. 

Kai lays beside you, and clings onto your opposite hip. He leans in and his lips ghost over yours. Even just a hint of feeling them on yours was exciting to you.  

"I knew I had to have you," he whispers, planting a kiss on your cheek, “you’re so delicate.” 

Kai trailed gentle kisses to the corner of your mouth. Your core didn’t let up; continuing to pulse in ramped need. 

His lips suddenly meet yours. They move in perfect synchronicity with yours. His warm tongue prods at your tightened lips, begging to explore the inside of your mouth. You open your mouth, moaning softly as his tongue takes on yours in a sticky battle for dominance. 

Your thighs rub together as Kai's softly pinches your erect nipple. His mouth leaves yours and instead, attaches to one of your hardened peaks. He swirls his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth. A low rumble works its way from the back of his throat. 

Kai's cock twitches as he hears your first whimper of pleasure. He sinks his teeth softly into your perked bud hoping to get a small whine from you. Your cunt weeps with every noise you make. It begged to be attended to. 

"You make such pretty sounds," Kai whispers against your skin as his kisses travel downwards. 

You watch with heavy eyes as he trails kisses from your breast to your hip bone. He places a firm hand on your knee. You lurch forward and your mouth opens to object. 

"Don’t talk, just spread your legs," he uses light force on your knee to open your legs. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment as you’re exposed fully to him. 

Kai situates his head between your open legs and sucks in a shuddering breath. 

He positions his fingers over your clit, applying enough pressure to have your hips jolt into his hand. 

"Someone is needy," he hums, admiring your glistening cunt as it clenches around nothing. 

"Kai," his name rolls off your lips pleadingly. Kai uses a single finger to dip between your folds and scoop your arousal. He pops his finger in his mouth and closes his eyes contently at the taste. 

He opens his eyes and they peer hungrily into yours. He was silently asking to go down on you. 

"Please," you whine in torment. 

Kai wraps his arms around your thighs and brings your pussy impossibly closer to his face. 

He sets out to work straight away, drawing your small, swollen clit between his wet lips and sucking on it softly. The foreign spike in pleasure had your body trembling.

Kai sets a flat tongue against your clit, before licking a thick stripe to your entrance. He probes inside with the tip of his tongue. He was already obsessed with the way you tasted. 

"Your little pussy is perfect, made just for me," Kai mumbles against your pussy. The vibrations shoot through your core. 

In response, your hips buckle up to meet his face. But Kai continues to slurp and suck at your heat. His palms lay flat against your hips to hold you in place as he pleasures your pussy. He wanted to get as many sounds out of you as possible. 

A rising heat forms in your lower abdomen and you squirm under Kai's touch. Your orgasm builds rapidly as your walls continue to pulse, 

Kai takes the opportunity to toy at your entrance with the pad of his thumb. He eventually sinks it inside you. The stretch is only minimal, but you still let out a small cry. 

"Shh, it's okay," he reassures you, looking up at you and noticing your discomfort. 

He begins to move his thumb, thrusting it slowly inside you. He hushes your every cry, until they switch to small moans. 

"How's that feel?" Kai asks, removing his thumb and using it to brush slick over your clit. 

"Better. It feels good," you say, propping yourself up on your elbows. You needed to get a better look at what he was doing to you. 

"I'm gonna put in two now. Okay?" He doesn’t wait for a response, instead sliding his big fingers inside you. 

His fingers fit snugly inside you. You grip around him with uncertainty. The deeper he plunges, the more uncomfortable it gets. 

Another cry pushes past your lips as he pushes his fingers in knuckle deep. 

"That's it," he coos, "you're doing so well, baby." 

His consolation makes you relax and soon he's able to curl his fingers up to where it swells to his touch. 

Kai lets out a low grown as your tiny cries turn into desperate gasps for air.

Your legs spread further apart as you approach your peak. You cover your mouth with your hands to hush your moans. 

“Oh Kai, I’m sorry I’m gonna-”

“Don’t be sorry, let go doll. You’re allowed to cum,” Kai continues to lap at your swollen clit until a feverish heat pulsates through your body. 

Kai moans against your pussy as your ever-tightening hole clenches in time with the pulse of your hardened bud. You cry out as your orgasm washes over you in strong waves. 

When you’d come down from your high, Kai pulls away, panting for air. He wipes the slick off his chin with the back of his hand. You look at him in awe with doe-like eyes, never thinking that your dark web experience would be even remotely close to this.  

“Come here,” Kai says softly, moving off the bed to stand at its foot. You sit up and position yourself on all fours to crawl over to him. 

Your face is met with his clothed erection. You notice the tiny wet patch where the outline of his tip is. Your mouth waters thinking of what he has hiding under the fabric of his boxers. It was unlike you to be so ravenous for any man. 

“Stick out your tongue,” Kai tucks his forefinger and thumb under your chin and brings your face up to look at his. 

You maintain eye contact as your tongue sweeps across your bottom lip and then sticks out. 

Kai pulls down his boxers, never once breaking eye contact. He positions his leaky tip over the warm expanse of your tongue. He tasted salty, a flavour you weren’t expecting. 

Kai runs his tip hesitantly across your tongue. You begin to drool down your chin from a build up of spit. 

“Open your mouth for me, baby,” Kai maintains a firm grip on your chin as he forces your mouth open.  

“That’s it,” he groans, sliding the swollen, angry tip of his cock into your mouth, “just like that, baby”. You hold your breath as his cock fills your mouth. He rocks his hips slowly into the back of your throat. 

Kai lets out a soft moan as he feels your tongue on the underside of his cock, sliding from the middle of his shaft to the sensitive slit indenting his tip. 

“Such a pretty little mouth,” he says with a satisfied sigh. Unable to hold your breath any longer, you discover you can breathe from your nose.  

His hand lays steadily on the top of your head as he guides his cock deeper into your throat. You gag as he nudges the back of your throat. He holds your head securely in place. Panic sets in as you look up at him with a tear cascading down your cheek. You were hoping he’d take it as a sign to let go. But Kai persists, fucking your mouth in a way that has your throat ache. 

Placing a hand on his thigh, you try and push him away. Kai eventually takes the hint, yanking your mouth from around his cock, leaving a rope of saliva still stuck to him. 

You double over as you cough to soothe your throat. You swallow all the spit that accumulated in your mouth. Kai chuckles at your inexperience. He found your innocence amusing knowing he’s about to take it away. He softly pushes you back onto the bed. 

“Bit much for your first time?” Kai asks as you lay with your legs spread for him. You nod; not feeling able to form a coherent sentence just yet. 

“It felt so good though,” he says with a small whine, “I loved watching you choke on it.” 

Your eyes widen in surprise as he nudges his tip between your soaked folds. Your breath catches in your throat as his cock made the first advance inside you, splitting you open only slightly. Your cunt transuded with a bountiful amount of slick, seeping down the tip of Kai’s cock and drenching the sheets beneath you. Your body was more than ready for Kai. He thrust his hips forward, burying himself entirely in your cunt.

His eyes become impossibly darker as his pupils grew triple in size. 

The moan he lets out after being completely surrounded by you was low and animalistic. Your hands shoot out to grab a hold of Kai’s shoulders as a pang of discomfort shoots through your core. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as you hopelessly stare up at the man above you. 

“Kai, it hurts,” you whine as a tear falls. Kai’s expression doesn’t soften like you expect it too. He pulls out entirely, to just to slam back into you for a second time. You yelp in surprise and dig your nails into his shoulder blades at the sudden fullness. Kai begins to slowly rock his hips. Your mouth falls open and you squeeze your eyes shut as you try and adjust to his size. 

Kai can barely think straight, preoccupied by the way he’s stretching you out. He wonders how he managed to fit himself inside something so small and tight.  

As the tears continue to run down your face, Kai wipes under your eye with his thumb. 

“Kai! Please... talk to me…” you plead, digging your fingernails into his skin deeper. You were sure you’d leave bloodied crescent-moon indents in their wake. 

Kai doesn’t notice your pleading nor the pain your fingernails were trying to inflict. He was consumed by a need to finish inside you. 

Had you even thought of a condom? Kai certainly didn’t. He knew his intentions were to stuff his cum so far inside you it couldn’t spill out.  

You were his, and unbeknownst to you, this arrangement was far from over. Like Kai promised, he’d do anything to get his hands on you. Even if that meant he had to do it the hard way.  

Your mind began to race with irrational thoughts. You’d finally built up the courage to open your eyes again. Much to your disbelief, Kai’s were closed, and his face was twisted in some sort of sick pleasure. Yet, every thrust of his hips earnt another cowardly whimper from you. You were beginning to think you’d never adjust to his size. 

“Y/N,” your name sultrily rolls of his tongue making your ears perk up, “you’re taking me so well, baby.” 

Your lips curl into a small smile hearing his voice again. 

“I’m gonna cum soon, okay? But I need to go a little faster, do you think you can take it?” Kai’s eyes flutter open and suddenly he’s peering down at you. You nod, mentally preparing yourself to be at his disposal. Kai leans down and plants a small kiss on your cheek. 

“Say it. I need to hear you say it,” Kai growls, his fists balling the sheets by your head. You open your mouth to speak but your lips quiver in fear. You tongue juts out to wet them. 

“Yes, Kai,” you respond finally, before another gasp pushes its way passed your lips. 

Kai shows no mercy, snapping his hips furiously. The bedhead hits the wall again and again. The subtle knock rings loudly in your ears alongside every soft groan your cunt squeezes out of Kai.

He feels so deep inside you that you swear he’s rubbing up against your cervix. 

“Oh fuckfuckfuck,” Kai seethes between grit teeth as he chases his own orgasm. Your core ached, but you still ran a hand reassuringly through his hair. You weren’t sure if it would help, or how to help, but you knew once he was finished, it would be done. 

Kai snatches your hand in his, squeezing it in a tight fist as he cums. His last few thrusts were slow and sloppy. 

He pulls out finally, pulling his glistening cock away from your cunt. You hadn’t noticed the blood until you reached down to cup yourself. It felt a lot wetter than usual. 

“It’s normal,” Kai could read your panicked expression as you sat up in the bed. 

“It is?” you asked, still perplexed. This wasn’t how you ever pictured it. It wasn’t supposed to hurt and you weren’t supposed to bleed. 

“Yeah,” he says nonchalantly, pulling up his boxers without cleaning himself off. 

You nod, exhaling as you get off the bed to dress yourself. Your body continues to throb and ache as you slide on your tights and pull your shirt over your head.          You wondered when everything would stop hurting. 

Once fully dressed, you turned back towards Kai, prepared to seal the deal and leave this motel room. 

Nothing was ever that easy with Kai. 

When you’d turned, you were face to face with a knife, held out inches from your face and glimmering in the overhead light. Your eyes zero in on two more people wearing eery clown costumes.

You freeze in place, taking a precautionary step back. A maniacal smile spreads across Kai’s face as the clowns step forward.

“Kai?” you ask softly, raising your shaking hands up in the air to show you weren’t a threat. This was all too good to be true. Who the fuck are they and where did they come from?

“The money? Kai?” you try again, your words only coming out a whisper. 

“You get your money, sweetheart,” Kai reassures you and the clowns laugh. He pulls something that looks like a piece of rope from his pocket.

“...But I’m not done with you. Yet.” 

#evan peters #evan peters fanfic #evan peters requests #evan peters fanfiction #evan peters imagine #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #american horror story #2nd person pov #fem!reader #ahs kai anderson #kai anderson smut #kai anderson #kai anderson fan fiction #kai anderson x reader #ahs fanfic #ahsfx #ahs fandom #ahs cult

[inamagicalhallucination]

atsushi and akutagawa being together works so well becuz, only focusing on atsushi, atsushi can be the "worst" of himself when he's with ryuu -- well actually the uncensored version of himself, if he's pissed, he's pissed, if he's bitchy he's bitchy, if he wants to deal with shit with his fists he will -- and its not like atsushi cant be himself with the ada but with aku there was never a sense of expectations -- so if atsushi and akutagawa ever got together, if atsushi ever tried to make akutagawa proud of him, or if he wanted him to look at him, or if he just overall wanted to be someone to him, it wouldnt be out of a feeling that he has to to have worth, nor would he have to worry about showing his less censored parts of himself, if that makes sense -- it would be becuz he wants, atsushi would be able to give parts of himself he already gives, but they would be done with trust and becuz he wants to

#im not diminishing ada's relationship with atsushi im just soft for sskk rn btw

[snowandglasslabyrinth]

Damn, the Velma show really sucks. All the characters seem wrong and one-dimensional. There’s nothing funny, I genuinely laughed once and it’s because sarcasm gets me always. Also, specifically it was Velma’s line after climbing the wall to perform a break and enter into Fred’s family’s mansion.

Velma is painfully mediocre as a character, she is contradictory and evidently treats people poorly, laughs in Norville’s face when he says he has a crush on her, and just seemed really mean and poorly written. I also really hate the fat phobic jokes. That’s not right, it’s not funny, it’s just in poor taste and mean. Having it so that she eats french fries out of the garbage is insulting and just pointless. She’s got some massive crush on Fred cause he’s ‘hot’, she’s fairly shallow as a character but loves to point out (see ep. 2) that all the other characters are shallow. People in her school think she’s ugly until she wears revealing clothing, then everyone pays attention to her - in my humble but angry opinion that is a bad message to spread to young adults and teens.

Norville is a whole case, the drug references and jokes are neither funny nor entertaining and after his ridiculous and clunky line about being anti-drugs early in the first episode he pauses as if the audience needs a moment to laugh. It was awful. I get that it’s meant to be a play on the idea that Shaggy was a stoned character but that doesn’t mean it’s funny.

Daphne is vapid, and she’s always been a little bit vain (the stereotypical girl character to an extent because in the original series she was a round character full of depth) but in the show she has become a high schooler obsessed with sex who treats everyone horrifically. The obsession with sex is a thing for all of the highschool girls in the show, I don’t know who had that kind of experience in highschool but I certainly didn’t so it feels uncomfortable and inappropriate (also feels like that because they anime bubble censor a bunch of naked teenage highschool girls as they talk about sex in tv, that shouldn’t have been allowed.)

Fred is just a douche. I mean I know that’s a choice that the writers made but I strongly hate who he’s become (and yes I know I’m supposed to hate him but I think it’s supposed to be because he’s a jerk not just because he’s poorly written uninteresting and a man child that acts like a stereotypical ‘macho’ man). And the amount of times he calls himself a ‘puss’ is annoying and, unfortunately for the show, still not funny, so only sarcasm points for comedy right now.

Some side character notes: Velma’s dad’s girlfriend is an awful and boring stereotype. The show leans on cliches and stereotypes heavily I.e. any character in that show practically. The other students are boring and not memorable. There’s a moment where Fred stands up for Velma and accidentally cuts a student’s foot off, reminiscent of the comedy in those bad adult cartoons that are overpopulating Netflix right now (Paradise PD, Hoops (is that what it’s called?) and others). If I didn’t mention other characters it’s because I don’t remember they exist.

Okay tl;dr the show sucks, it’s not funny, I loved Scooby Doo as a kid so this hurts me, I hate what they’ve done with the characters.

So, I know I usually don’t make my own posts or write reviews but I literally got 10 minutes into the second episode and had to stop because it was bad, very bad. The first episode was bad enough but I thought I would torture myself and then I gave up because I just couldn’t anymore. Thanks for reading all of this if you have, and don’t watch Velma.

:)

#scooby doo #velma show #Velma #hbo max

[chickenparm]

Helping Out (Nanami/Reader)

just a lil quickie cause @drawlypsy inspired me with her absolutely insane nanami art that you can see here! please go look at it, i promise it won't disappoint. (it's also nsfw albeit censored)

---

AO3 LINK

Nanami/Reader (no pronouns, no descriptions) 1,478 Words - NSFW (handjobs, blowjobs, fluff, minor praise/service)

Nanami isn’t particularly shy about his work exhausting him.

You’re not a part of that life, but you know well enough that sometimes he comes home to you and all he can manage is a chaste kiss on your cheek before slumping into a seat. You’ll slide up behind him, pressing your thumbs into the tense muscles of his neck and shoulders, murmuring little words of encouragement about how proud you are, how good of a job he does. 

And maybe you’ll sneak in a few kisses behind his ear where you know he’s sensitive, watching goosebumps prickle across his cheek. Sometimes you say nothing at all, fully aware of his life being a little too full of sound and fury. Nanami melts under your hands and sweet words, but he also relishes the silence just as much. 

This evening, you aren’t home when he arrives. Groceries needed to be bought, and the commute was slower than usual, so dinner hadn’t even been started. Nanami wouldn’t complain, of course - he’d been a victim of rush hour more times than you could count. You’re certain he’d be sitting in his chair, enjoying the silence as he tried to relax from the day’s events. 

Careful not to jostle your bags too much, you slip into your home and deposit your items in the kitchen, then tip-toe along to find where he’s posted up for now. The living room is empty, so is the bedroom, so you slip into the study and find him slumped at the window. Nanami has always looked good in warm tones, and this moment is no exception as the light filters through and makes him glow. 

Your lips quirk, however, when you see the state he’s in. A little rumpled, head lolled back as he takes steady breaths. Neither of his hands are in his lap, nor on his bared cock that’s freed from his pants. It glistens a little, a testament to how he’d been touching himself not so long ago during a private moment. 

For a moment, you debate leaving him, but he looks a little too tired. You severely doubt he’d even bother to finish himself off. For the greater good, you titter to yourself as you enter the room and pad over to him. Nanami already knows you’re there, his eyes cracking open to watch as you approach. There’s a rumble in his voice that speaks of just how tired he is when he says, “I thought I’d be done by the time you got back.”

“Don’t seem like you’re in much of a rush,” you tease quietly, pressing your hand to his knee and squeezing. Visibly, his cock jumps, but he doesn’t otherwise move. Poor thing. 

Nanami blows air through his nose in a long sigh, letting his head fall back again. “I wasn’t sure it was worth finishing. Too much effort.”

Oh, that’s a simple fix. You’ve done plenty of things that Nanami didn’t consider worth the effort, and he appreciated them once finished. This would be no exception, and you slip to your knees as your hands move up his thighs. “Let me help. Just relax, don’t lift a finger.”

And how is he going to argue with that? Nanami sinks further into his chair, and you lean in to press a chaste kiss to the tip of his cock as you take him in hand. “There we go. Just do your breathing exercises and I’ll handle this for you.”

You’ll handle it with both hands, you muse to yourself as you use one to hold the base of his cock while the other pulls back slowly on his foreskin, then strokes upward to coax a bead of pre from the tip. With a swipe of your thumb, you wick it away and smear it along his head to ease your movements. In response, a low, steady breath leaves his chest nearly concave, one of his hands squeezing into a fist before falling limp on the arm of the chair once more. 

When he’s back to full hardness once more, only needing a few cursory movements of your hand, you lean in and take the tip into your mouth to roll over it with your tongue. A stilted groan is your treat for something so sudden, and you smile around the heavy weight on your tongue as you take a little more, savoring the taste of him. 

Normally, you’d close your eyes to focus on only pleasuring him, but you take a second to watch the line of his throat bob as he swallows hard. And so do you, your mouth opening wider to accommodate him to the back and swallow around his length at the back of your throat. Despite your practice with him like this, you really can only manage his size there for a few beats before you have to pull back to avoid gagging. 

Nanami likes that, sometimes. That you struggle to handle him, and your throat closes around his cock as if to push him out. But there’s a time and a place, and this is too languid for something so heated and desperate. Next time, you’ll treat him in a different way. 

The veins on his length are mapped by your tongue, and you trace them instinctively with each bob of your head. If necessary, you could draw them with perfect recollection, having nearly branded them into your tongue from him filling your mouth like this. Your other hand works over what you can’t fit, working in tandem with your lips and tongue as you go a little faster, a little deeper. 

One of his hands slides along your face to cup your cheek, thumb stroking at the apex of your cheekbone with undeniable affection. Nanami is certainly watching you now, but you’re far more focused on making sure this is good for him. That there are no wasted movements, that you’re not moving too quickly or too slowly. Just a steady build-up to avoid working him up unnecessarily. 

This is about as cathartic for you as it is for him, you think. 

Nanami doesn’t need to be taken care of, he can function more than fine on his own. But you find a sense of self-satisfaction in finding ways to dote on him and reduce his stress. Using your mouth on his cock is one of your favorites; you like being hands-on with him - and mouth-on. 

With the way you can feel his pulse throbbing in your mouth, you think perhaps he likes it, too.

Using your free hand, you cup his balls and roll them gently, just a little extra stimulation in tandem with your mouth. The tension in his thighs increases, his stomach tightening, and you can feel the way they draw a little closer to his body as he gets close. Instinct tells you to go faster, to give him more, but you keep slow and steady. 

He’ll get there when he gets there, you think. In the meantime, you’re going to just enjoy yourself by listening to Nanami moan under his breath, his hand moving to the top of your head. He doesn’t push or pull, but simply rests the weight of his palm at the crown while you work him over with quiet enthusiasm. 

Nanami’s hand tightens a little, his other balling into a fist, and you have but a moment to prepare before the first pulse of his release hits your tongue. Rather than make a show of it and pull off to let him paint your cheeks, you keep the tip just beyond your lips and make sure nothing is wasted as his hips jerk up in barely-controlled thrusts. 

This time, you swallow and pull away, giving his cock one more kiss before putting him back in his pants and wiping your lips with the back of your hand. Once you’re sufficiently cleaned up, you plant your hands on the arms of the chair to push yourself up and give him a kiss to his cheek, feeling a bit of stubble rasping your lips from where it’d grown from this morning. 

“Dinner will be ready in thirty. Are you eating with me, or do you need a little longer?”

Nanami’s breaths are long as he blinks at you a little slowly. Then, as if a man cured of some grave illness, a bit of the exhaustion melts away as he lifts his head. “I’ll come help you.”

“Hm… you can cut the vegetables, then.”

“So you can rush through the rest of it and tell me to sit down? No, I don’t think so,” Nanami pushes himself from the chair with a grunt, then presses his hand to your lower back to guide you from the room. “I’ll do the meat as well.”

“Well, now I don’t think we’ll have meat in the dish–”

“Hush.”

#mind the a/n for content warnings #nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami jjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #nanami x reader #nanami/reader #reader-insert #reader insert #gn!reader #x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #mdni #nsft

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PART 1]

Don't ask me why I wrote chapter two literally a day after the first, it's a mix of the nice comments I got and the fact I'm enjoying myself more than I expected, haha.

Ghost crashes into his desk chair, throwing two folders on the table. One was the Sergeant’s report, which he had to go through and approve before forwarding to Price, and the other…

The other was Soap’s personal file. He technically didn’t have clearance for it anymore, but Price left it on his desk next to the report, and Ghost figured he won’t notice if it disappeared for a couple hours.

Besides… he was supposed to read it before the mission. He just didn’t care in the past.

Ghost opens the file, and immediately gets greeted by a picture of Soap. He’s younger and seemed to be holding back a smile for the photo. 

John “Soap” MacTavish. Somehow, Ghost can’t see how this fiery Sergeant shares a name with the captain.

The rest of the file is pretty standard. Born in Scotland (In a town Ghost never heard of), age 27, enlisted at 16. It gets more interesting when he reaches the Revenant section.

Or, whatever he can see from it. His Reaping, his first death, is completely blacked out. His powers list the explosion immunity and creation, but another line is censored. Ghost feels cheated of information - the amount of red tape around Soap would be concerning, if it didn’t make him that more intrigued.

He flips through his previous missions fairly quickly, not expecting much of it to be uncensored. Lad was SAS before dying, the reports are practically a solid block of black ink.

Ghost continues to the medical reports, fully intending to skip those as well, and he keeps flipping, and flipping, and flipping…

An icy hand grabs at his throat. Frowning, he slowly flips back.

The frozen feeling persists when he starts reading. 4 years ago, mission in Austria. Exposure to thermite explosion, 3 fingers missing and loss of motor function to his left leg. 11 months ago, C4 accident, right ear, eye, and majority of throat missing. 2 years ago, grenade explosion, massive damage to liver and stomach.

Combing through all records, Ghost took a moment to realize no medical procedure was noted. Which means Soap didn’t receive any.

He shut the folder.

Something different from the freezing horror he initially felt started rising within him. It was rage.

The personal folder gets thrown aside, and Ghost focuses on the mission report. Right. Perhaps this will shed more light on what Soap is capable of, because honestly right now he can’t bare thinking about how much damage the Sergeant suffered through any longer.

The report is well-written, as any soldier of Soap’s rank would be. Ghost enjoys seeing just how competent Soap was, clearing rooms at neck breaking speed. What catches his eyes is the reason the explosion at the warehouse happened.

He never did get an answer to that…

As it turns out, Soap did get spotted. But according to the report, it wasn’t a hostile that activated the explosive. No, Soap himself did that. The reason given is “estimated risk to Bravo 0-7”.

…Soap thought he was in danger?

Ghost racks his brain trying to understand why. Did he think Ghost didn’t clear the third floor yet? Did he think… they were going to alert backup?

And he decides to… blow himself up.

He hastily signs the document and grabs both folders. So much information, missing, blacked out, red tape stopping him from understanding. Ghost has long learned that he won’t, can’t understand everything, orders from higher up not to be questioned. But it has never bothered him more. 

Never left this feeling of missing out.

When Ghost reaches Price’s office, the light is on and a lingering smell of cigars wafts even through the closed door. Shit. He’ll have to explain how the amount of folders he took suddenly multiplied.

“Weird how that happens, doesn't it Ghost?” Price shouts from beyond the door.

Bloody hell his stupid mind reading powers can be a real pain in the-

“You better not finish that thought Lieutenant!” 

Sighing, Ghost finally opens the door. “I thought you’re on break, Captain”, he places the folders on his desk.

Price glares at the two folders before he looks back at him, eyebrow raised, “clearly”.

Ghost glares back. Not like he has anything to say to his defence.

Price breaks the tension with a little huff, “You know you could’ve just asked for the file, right? I could tell the Sergeant left an impression on you.” he laughs.

Not needing the Captain to mock him further, he bites back “report’s signed, permission to be dismissed?”

Price smirks and dismisses him. Ghost doesn’t miss the thought that leaked from him, “told you, you two would get along.”

He walks away before Price could read his own.

Smoking becomes less intimidating after you die once. Honestly, if it comes to the point he dies from lung cancer, he’ll be happy.

He’ll take that little comfort either way. Watching the smoke dissipate to the night sky, a handful of stars shining through. Little droplets of rain drizzle on the tin roof above him. It’s almost peaceful. 

Almost. If only he couldn’t hear Gaz complaining from the floor above him.

“Look, he’s doing it again.” the recruit next to him makes a questioning sound, “Ghost, he’s bloody brooding. I swear, he’s been like this even since that mission with the revenant, what’s his name…”

The recruit mumbles something, “right! MacTavish. I’ll pay a good amount to know what happened with him… you think-”

Ghost slams a fist at the tin roof, “I can fuckin’ hear ya Garrick!”.

“Good! Tell me what happened there!”

He throws the cigarette and stomps it. Can’t get a moment of silence around here…

Gaz still tries to interrogate him while Ghost walks back to his room. He would talk to him when he feels like it, kindly suggest to never bring up that mission again. 

Ghost doesn’t need more things to remind him of the Sergeant.

Sometimes he wonders if he ever was as bad as these rookies. Watching one trip on thin air, taking down 3 others poor sods trying to complete a run, he rather believe he wasn’t.

He approaches the 4 idiots, who are now literally shaking while craning their neck to look at their lieutenant. “Well, what are you waiting for? Get up!”.

The rookies finally pull their heads out of their arse and scramble up. While they try to get back on track, he shouts, “five more laps for you four! Get a move on!”.

The ones that finished the training murmur behind him something that sounds like a long list of expletives, maybe about wishing his mother got an abortion or the likes. 

Ghost couldn’t care less. But, for the sake of discipline, he throws a scowl at the group, shutting them instantly. 

It’s on days like these, where Gaz is away on mission, and Price buried under mountains of paperwork, that Ghost’s thoughts wander back to that mission six months ago. To a certain Scottish Sergeant, to daft jokes and a weird shared understanding. Fingers flickering with flames, blue eyes shining with them.

Useless thoughts. All they do is leave a bitter trail behind them.

On days like these, he can’t help but crave bitterness. 

The recruits finally finish their run, and Ghost dismisses them before they can cause more trouble, effectively declaring it “not his problem”. He should be more grateful of Garrick, he’s much better at handling the FNGs.

As he makes his way to the showers, one Private stops him. He looks familiar, but Ghost doesn’t bother learning any of their names.

“Captain Price orders you to his office.” the Private almost sneers at him. Ghost nods and walks away. 

Once, a long time ago, he might’ve put the Private in his place, perhaps when he cared more. Now he knows better. His powers speak loud and clear. If he wished, he could wipe the entire base off the face of this godforsaken earth. It might be because of this fact, most soldiers abhor him.

They can’t help hating what they don’t understand.

Three well practiced knocks and a “come in!”, Ghost stands in front of the Captain. Price looks surprisingly chipper for the amount of files on his desk. That makes one of them.

“To what do I owe the occasion, Captain?”

Price flashes a warm smile (one he would call fatherly if the connotation didn’t want to make him want to puke) “I’m considering adding a new member to the 141”.

His first reaction is ‘fuck no’, and Price’s face sours at that. But Ghost is willing to entertain the Captain, so he asks, “you got any candidates?”.

Price motions to the dozen or so files on his desk, “take a look”.

Ghost raises an eyebrow before sitting down and taking one at random. Sergeant Thomas Anderson, 28. Revenant powers… “Breathing underwater? Really.” Ghost shuts the folder and glances at Price, “I’ll take him when we go on a bust against ultranationalists from Atlantis”.

“Not everyone is as deadly as you, Simon” Price sighs, “go on, check the others.”

Several files later Ghost is left wondering how many practically useless revenants are out there. He’s sure just thinking this is considered some sort of blasphemy among Reapers, but as he wasn’t struck down by an eldritch being yet, it’s safe to say he’s free to continue looking down at them.

He knows deep down it’s not their powers that bother him. Hell, Garrick’s Gravity manipulation isn’t that lethal, but the Sergeant knows how to effectively use it to his advantage.

Ghost simply can’t see himself working with any of them. He understands they’re in desperate need for more taskforce members, no matter how strong its three revenants are, but if they’re about to add a forth, he better be useful.

Scouring the table, Ghost realizes he went through all folders already. Price picks up on that.

“None of them up to your standard?”

Ghost crosses his arms, “not in the slightest”.

He spots a personal file on a cabinet on Price’s left, “what’s with that one?” he nods towards it.

Price turns his head, “ah, he’s currently on a long term assignment. Higher ups aren’t gonna let that one transfer so easily.”

Ghost’s interest was piqued, and he leaned to grab it. Price didn’t stop him, but he had a weird glint in his eyes. Ghost gets the feeling this outcome wasn’t unplanned.

He opens the folder and a pair of familiar blue eyes stare back. He looks up at Price.

The captain tilts his head, “well? In terms of strength, no one gets close to MacTavish. I’d dare say you and him could be evenly matched-”

“I’ll take him.”

Price falters, “what?”

“I’ll accept a new member if it was Soap.” Ghost states, leaving no room for argument. A bubbling feeling of excitement washes through him, in a way he hasn’t felt in a long time. The mountains of questions Soap left behind him come back to the forefront of his mind. 

And he feels… hopeful.

Price shakes the surprise off his features, and he looks tiredly at the file, “...I can’t promise any miracles, but I’ll do my best to get him.” He takes out a well deserved cigar, “I trust your judgment.”

“Thank you Captain”, the words don’t encapsulate just how grateful Ghost is.

“Now scram, I have about 50 calls to make.” Price waves his hand and picks up the phone. Ghost makes his exit before the Captain changes his mind.

Garrick returns from his assignment the following morning. The reason Ghost knows that is he watches the door to mess being slammed open while he tries to drink his morning tea.

“GHOST!” Gaz shouts, swiveling his head side to side, searching for him. Sometimes Ghost wishes he could actually go invisible like some rumors suggest.

But alas, he finds him quickly enough, and rushes to his table, uncaring of the several heads following his actions. 

“Garrick” Ghost greets him, “how was the missio-”.

“We’re getting a new 141 member?!” Gaz cut him off, the excitement in his voice palpable, and he visibly starts floating a few inches off ground. Ghost tries to be annoyed with him, but he always found Gaz’s more energetic approach to life endearing.

“Nothing’s final yet, settle down.”

“But you know who it is, right?” Gaz sits in the chair in front of him, “c’mon, you gotta tell me!”

Ghost considers lying and saying he has no clue either, but he figures he might as well rip the band-aid now.

“It’s Sergeant MacTavish.” he tries to sound bored.

By the mischievous look on Garrick, he knows he failed miserably, “ohoho Ghost… Did you suggest your mysterious Sergeant to Price?” he grins like the menace he is, “seems like you won’t be able to hide what happened on ‘The Mission’ for much longer-”

Ghost slams his mug on the table, “nothing to hide, Sergeant.”

But Gaz is already 3 steps ahead in his brain, “I’ve heard he can create explosions, you think he could shoot up like a rocket? Could work well with my powers…”

Ghost stands up and groans, “he’s not a bloody spaceship Gaz, fuckin’ hell…”

He has a feeling Garrick and MacTavish will get along just fine.

The following days are… weird. Ghost never waited in anticipation for something as impatiently as he does right now. The clock seems to tick at a snail’s pace, and he finds his focus impaired. Thank his Reaper he’s not on a mission right about now…

Price is practically living in his office, constantly making calls and going through document after document. From what he understands, Soap is highly sought after for his explosion immunity, the best defuser there is.

Ghost is bitterly reminded of the huge pile of medical records in his personal file. That taste he rather not chase.

As for Gaz… His excitement grows by the day. It reminds Ghost that while the Sergeant is very friendly and always finds someone to talk to, he’s also one of the very few revenants on base.

He wonders if it feels as alienating as it does for him from time to time.

It’s not for 2 weeks later that he and Gaz are summoned to Price’s office. The place reeks of cigar smoke, and Price himself looks like he’s in need of at least 24 hours of sleep. But a triumphant attitude emanates from him in waves, and Ghost knows before he even opens his mouth what he’s about to say.

“It wasn’t easy, and I had to use every connection I had up there, but I got great news for you lads.”

Gaz smiles brightly, and turns his head to look at Ghost.

“I can finally say Sergeant Soap MacTavish is officially a member of the 141”.

Garrick cheers and floats high enough that Ghost has to drag him down before he slams his head against the ceiling, and sees the Captain’s expression shift.

“But…” Ghost starts for him. Of course this wouldn’t be this simple, nothing ever is.

Price exhales loudly, “Soap still has a couple of unfinished missions he will need to attend before he can join us fully.”

Gaz finally picks up on the mood shift, ‘...he will still be with us on base though, right?”

“Yes”, the Captain scratches under his iconic hat, and not for the first time Ghost wonders if it’s glued on with the way it refuses to fall off, “he will train with us, so take those few weeks as an opportunity to learn to work together. He’s quite powerful, and I think you will find… creative ways to work together.” with that last sentence, he glances at Ghost. Curious.

“When will the Sergeant arrive?” Ghost asks.

Price takes a quick look at the calendar, “3 days, early morning.”

That sends Garrick on a marathon of questions to Price, and Ghost retreats to into his mind.

3 days… 3 days and he will see those flames dance again. That Scottish lilt and crooked smile. 

Ghost feels his mouth stretch in a hesitant smile, as if the muscles almost forgot the movement, and notices Price mirroring it.

Perhaps he could give a chance to hope.

Thank you all for reading and commenting! I appreciate it a lot <3

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod price #cod gaz #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #cod mw #cod mwii #mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #mw fics #cod fic #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #I loved writing the interactions between the 141s #gaz especially #also prices mind reading leads to a lot of jokes the comedy basically writes itself #basically ive been working on uni work all day #and writing all night #and my uni work is drawing so i havent been drawing for myself as much #but writing feels like taking a break #when certainly feels like that for my poor wrist lmao #revenant au

[takeachillpillshawty]

No, some people do shit on Vil. I like to think there's a spectrum when it comes to Vil haters and Vil lovers.

Vil haters will demonize Vil and call him racist because he 'hates' Epel's accent, when that's not even true! He hates how crude and inappropriate he talks to others, you forget that Rook speaks French in some of his dialogues? Vil doesn't even bat an eye making the whole Vil is racist thing completely ridiculous and meaningless.

'Vil is abuse towards Epel!' Epel literally tried to pick a fight first and y'all are mad he actually got hurt? What did you want Vil to do? Stand there and take it? You all make jokes about Riddle getting his shit rocked by Ace because he was a little shit, but mad at Vil for doing the same to Epel? Vil doesn't go out of his way to abuse Epel, the fuck?! And I'm not saying that Epel is a terrible person nor a saint, we can have characters who are both flawed and still like them.

I see Vil as the type of mom you think is an asshole but when you get older you realize she was trying he best to raise you when you were a difficult child. I do agree that Vil has flaws that he needs to work on, the thing some people can't comprehend is that Vil will admit that he's wrong. Vil isn't self centered or some snobby rich dude, he strives to be a better person for himself and others that includes admitting he's wrong and bettering himself. He wants everyone in his dorm to be a better version of themselves and in one of his birthday cards it stated that while in his club he learned more about what goes on behind the scenes of movies because of his club member's help.

Vil, who is an actor appreciated the help of his fellow club mates for teaching him more about what goes on behind his profession. And I can't fully go in more dept because I'm an English twst user, and unfortunately some of the dialogue is either wrongfully translated or censored because Disney can't handle the queer themes of his character despite most of their Disney villains being QUEER CODED due to the Haze code back in the day. I'm seeing that people love to bring up the 'him trying to kill Neige' situation with his overblot, and I have to admit... Mans was genuinely tweaking, not gonna lie.... But you have to understand that Vil literally spent his life perfecting his acting skills despite his villainous roles he's given. He still held his head high despite it all, only for Neige to step in and steal that role of the hero. How would it feel to spend years at something that gave you an identity, the only thing that you're good at only to be out shined by a person who never felt the struggle of requiring that talent. I'm not saying Vil had every right to do what he did, but damn I understand why he did it.

Now onto Vil lovers, like I said it a spectrum. We have the Vil lovers who like myself can see his flaws and can agree that Vil has some issues but can see that he's a good person despite it all....then we have the Vil fans who hate and demonize Neige.

I can't understand why we can't have both, you also know you can like both characters without putting down or demonizing one over the other. I think that Neige is another version of Kalim honestly and I think he's a really sweet guy, but come on... You guys are just making stuff up to excuse Vil almost killing him which again I say, we can admit Vil was fucked for that but blaming something on Neige that he didn't even know happened is crazy. It's not Neige's fault that Vil hates him but the circumstances in their lives that put them to where they are now. Neige didn't ask to be famous, hell he didn't asked to be an actor he needed the money to have a better living situation for himself and his friends.

This has now become a Vil rant and I don't care, I love this man so much.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland shitpost #twst rant #twst vil #vil schoenheit #vil shoenheit

[jay-wasreblogging]

No idea what the ettiquette is for things like this but I adore your brain esp with Sherlock and Mycroft. pLEASE share any of your thoughts/hopes/expectations for s&c Mycroft (and his + Sherlock’s dynamic) 🙏

I swearrrr all of yous in the Sh&Co fandom are so sweet!! 🥹

As for my thoughts/hopes/expectations, It usually comes up randomly in my head but I would say...

Thoughts:

Mycroft hasn't been mentioned (except by the writer's that there isn't a voice actor for him yet) and this fits in with the surprise John and the audience will get when he is introduced. I'm excited for that but tbh I don't have any other thoughts, when he does appear DW I'll tag you in my post of thoughts :))

My hopes/expectations is that:

Mycroft is not slim. LISTENNNN LISTENNNN OKAYY, often hes portrayed as slim due to medical/mental issues which I still love btw (the approach to his character with these are some of the most powerful fics I have ever read) I just want a Mycroft that is a big boy and I hope he is.

Mycroft doesn't worry about Sherlock that often due to seeing him online with John now, he also follows the podcast, twitter account and is definitely on their patreon. That's why we haven't heard of him so far because there's no need for him to contact Sherlock. He's going to make a comment about the podcast and the detective career when he's introduced though.

Lestrade and Mycroft actually keep in touch quite often- not just due to Sherlock but cause of Lestrade being the DI and Mycroft being the government would mean they would cross paths more often than not. Especially true in hostage negotiations and/or terrorists attacks!! Lestrade would have to be present as it's all hands on deck and Mycroft may just be needed for 'cleanup' afterwards. They both could be introduced at the same time or within episode of each other. If not, they will know each other soon!!

Mycroft and Sherlock will do their iconic back and forth deduction but with both Mariana and John present. 👀

Mycroft doesn't drink alcohol nor consumes anything that wasn't made then tested - can't risk being intoxicated or poisoned when he could be called up at any moment, there's no time for resting. He does throw caution to the wind when he eats at Sherlock's though, hoping for a scene where they are having dinner together.

John will have direct contact with Mycroft just like Lestrade after they meet, this allows Mycroft to be a reoccurring character (FINGERS CROSSED MY GUYS!).

Mycroft is going to have a one on one conversation with John off the record about the case of The Greek Interpreter and John will definitely record it and then later plans to delete/censor it but Sherlock says not to and just publish it raw because why not. It be funny lol.

Further head-canons (some are also hoped or expected) because now I'm lost in the sauce and can't stop:

Mycroft has never worried about himself too much outside of work reasons, he was too busy taking care of Sherlock + the estate and handling incompetent politicians and global political leaders to ever care.

Sherlock was and is a danger to everything alive or objects - including himself!! This especially when he was a child doing any sort of experiment because often touch and tasting is the first thing done, so Mycroft aged like 20 years when Sherlock was a child in his 'i must grab and put this foreign thing in my mouth' phase. One time he wanted to touch and taste the insides of his bee plushie - it was just cotton tho (and a heart attack for Mycroft).

He is the reason Sherlock has expensive tastes and was unable to lean him off it due to having the exact palette as well. He's the reason Sherlock is spoiled about his groceries but don't say that to Mycroft because he did his best...not really but he likes his branded sweets okay.

Mycroft (as he is a big boy) needed suits that were custom made for him and up to his impeccable standards so he got them commissioned and had the designer he found to also create sensory friendly clothing for Sherlock. 🥹

Mycroft likes John Watson and Mariana a lot, they both love his brother and that's the only thing he could ask for.

Mycroft is a tank!! He is more than capable of neutralising someone if needed - whether hand to hand or by weapon/s - but just like how he isn't a detective, he isn't his own bodyguard nor hitman because he's lazy and that's why you have employees.

Mycroft thought that Sherlock and John are more than friends but gets even more confused when Mariana is there? Then decides it's none of his business really, he needs to focus on easing tensions between the King and the Prime Minister.

Mycroft and Sherlock not only had deduce-offs but also regularly fought one on one hand to hand combat for fun. Mycroft was scared asf tho when Sherlock started to have intense interests in swords, no thank you.

Mycroft unlike his behaviour at work being that of an ice man whose looks could kill, is awkward and shy when it comes to Sherlock. There's not much to talk about when you're siblings whose work requires the utmost confidentiality, can easily deduce what the other did and with one's work famously being published and the other's influence clear in every political news!!

Now that's all I have, I'm sure my brain will come up with some more stuff later on and i'll be sure to tag you in them from now on!!

#this is the second ask thats complimenting and it got me giggling n kicking my feet and shi 😩😚 #love the kindness in this community - you guys are awesome seriously #sherlock & co #sherlock and co #sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #goalhanger podcasts #mycroft holmes #gregory lestrade #mariana ametxazurra #P.S. the only etiquette is I guess a please or thanks...? idk tbh cause I'm pretty new to Tumblr myself but I've seen some ppl use anon #asks to attack 😬 that's why I have it off so I can report and/or block

[alwaysmychoices]

Every Night

Synopsis: Now that Charlie and Ethan are back together, they spend the first night of their new lives together -- and Ethan has a question to ask.

Chapter 44 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 2.9k

Rating: General Audience

Also available on AO3 & Wattpad (link in Masterlist)

There was something so peaceful about Ethan’s apartment tonight. Had this apartment always been peaceful? No, it couldn’t have been. Only last night, it was a mausoleum dedicated to the loss of true love.

But tonight, it was impossible to imagine these halls echoing anything but affection and contentment. The air tasted sweeter, the space felt warmer, the laughs were louder. One night of Charlie’s presence exorcised the ghosts that haunted Ethan in the middle of the night.

The change was subtle, but Ethan felt it with every step he took.

She’s here, he thought as he towel-dried his hair. She’s here, he thought as he stepped into his pajamas. She’s here, he thought as he savored the smell of her shampoo lingering in the damp air. She’s here, he thought as he padded to the living room.

Boston stared back at him through the windows – all the tallest buildings winking their congratulations.

The dim-lit space left evidence of Charlie’s presence in every corner – her shoes by the door, the crumbled pillow by her favorite chair, and the assortment of hair ties that followed her every step. Ethan was greedy for more of it, his usual tidiness be damned.

Ethan poured himself a glass of water and tapped the keypad of his laptop, waking it so he could check the time. With Charlie, time seemed to stop, but just as he suspected, it had continued for the rest of the world. It was late, so late that they should have been in bed hours ago if Charlie wanted to be well-rested for work tomorrow. But Ethan didn’t regret a moment of their night, nor was he eager to go to sleep now.

Stifling a yawn, Ethan curiously opened his notifications, and he was startled by the staggering amount.

At the top of the screen were the expected messages. HR paperwork for his new position with the hospital. Confirmation emails for cancelled movers. Pleas from a devastated recruiter trying to convince him to leave Boston anyway.

Then, there were the text messages reacting to the news. The Edenbrook rumor mill worked quickly, and by the time Ethan picked up Charlie from work, there were already whispers about their illicit affair.

Harper’s message came first. She was happy to hear that Charlie and Ethan were together, but she chastised Ethan for keeping the secret in the first place, though she insisted she’d sensed it long ago. She demanded dinner with the two of them as an apology, and Ethan typed back his assent, apologizing for lying to his friend and promising to make dinner reservations as soon as possible.

When Ethan sent his reply, he was surprised to realize that he was looking forward to dinner with Charlie and Harper. It wasn’t the first time that the trio spent time together, but it would be the first dinner where Charlie and Ethan didn’t have to perform, stifling themselves to avoid drawing attention to their relationship. Ethan liked the idea of integrating Charlie fully into his life – acknowledging the long-held truth that she was the most important part of it.

Above Harper’s gracious congratulations, Tobias Carrick sent a string of texts. It was clear that he hadn’t paced himself or censored a single thought, resulting in a string of consciousness as Tobias unraveled the revelations.

TOBIAS: I KNEW IT! I can’t believe you got caught MAKING OUT with a RESIDENT before you told me!

TOBIAS: Though Charlie is wonderful.

TOBIAS: So why does she like you then? She knows you enough to know better. How did you convince her to date you?

TOBIAS: Someone just told me you’ve been dating for a year. That better be a lie.

TOBIAS: No, it’s not. You’ve been evasive all year. That’s why, isn’t it?

TOBIAS: Then again, you’re always evasive and awkward.

TOBIAS: My office is next to yours, and I swear I heard noises today.

TOBIAS: Just heard the news that you’re leaving. Don’t fret. I’ll be the leader the Diagnostics Team has always needed.

The last message came a few hours later, when Tobias had clearly processed the news and felt it necessary to give a more cohesive and gracious response.

TOBIAS: Seriously though, congratulations. I’m proud of you.

TOBIAS: But don’t screw it up.

Ethan didn’t really consider Tobias a friend – not after their antagonistic history and current conflicts. But this string of texts tugged on some part of Ethan’s heart that had once considered Tobias his best friend. Perhaps it was worth trying again, even if this was just evidence that Tobias was as insufferable as ever.

ETHAN: Thank you.

There wasn’t much else to say, so Ethan didn’t bother trying. And frankly, for him, it was quite a lot.

After Tobias’s messages, there were a few more. Some of Charlie’s friends reached out to say they were happy for them. Sienna tentatively endorsed the relationship, though she reserved the right to murder Ethan if he messed up again. Jackie’s threats against Ethan were far less veiled, and Bryce sent at least a dozen excited emojis.  Naveen wrote with glee, boasting that their reunion had all gone to plan. When Ethan questioned Naveen’s direct defiance, Naveen ignored the question and offered the happy couple a weekend at his lake house to celebrate. Gracious for the offer (and Naveen’s interference), Ethan didn’t push it.

Nor did he need to push it.

Because there she was – his darling, wonderful Charlotte.

With Jenner close on her heels, Charlie wandered into the kitchen. The familiar scent of coconut and vanilla followed her, enveloping Ethan’s senses long before she looped her arms around his waist and nuzzled into him.

“There you are,” Charlie murmured, resting her cheek on his bare back. His skin was warm and scented with the mixture of their respective body washes – each still sitting in Ethan’s shower as if no time had passed.

In some ways, that made Charlie sad. She didn’t like to picture Ethan ending each night, staring at her half-empty bodywash and refusing to throw it away, even when he’d lost hope of her ever coming home. But the grief for their lost time was only a momentary interruption. In its wake, gratitude emerged. Because she had come home, and the bodywash was still waiting for her.

 Ethan smiled softly, abandoning his laptop and twisting his body so that they were face-to-face.  He leaned down to kiss the crown of her head, and Charlie shifted, leaning further into his embrace.

“What are you up to?” Charlie asked, her voice still in a daze.

The day had been so perfect – their reunion, their afternoon, their time at home. They’d spent most of the evening tangled in Ethan’s sheets, but not a moment of it had been quiet. They’d consumed each other in every way possible, from touch to speech. No time had passed, yet there was so much to catch up on.

“Missing you,” Ethan confessed.

Charlie laughed, “It’s been ten minutes since I kicked you out of the shower so I could actually wash my hair without you distracting me.”

“Way too long.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Charlie rolled her eyes, but it was the blush creeping up her cheeks that made Ethan smile. He kissed the flush as it spread up her skin, and he smiled against her cheek as she laughed.

Had anyone else ever been so happy?

“But really,” Charlie playfully swatted Ethan’s shoulder, “What are you doing? If it’s work, I’ll be obligated to make fun of you.”

Ethan shook his head, shifting so they could both face the laptop, “You’ll enjoy this.”

With a few clicks, Ethan brought up Tobias’s text thread. Somehow, the messages were even funnier from Charlie’s perspective. He lit up as he watched her read the messages, laughing at things he hadn’t even noticed before. Then, he showed her the other congratulatory messages. He thought she would like to see the well-wishes, but really, it was a silent effort to show he embraced the promises he’d made to her. He wanted her to know that he wasn’t hiding her anymore.

And Charlie appreciated every bit of it.

She reveled in the idea of dinners with friends. She wanted to be Ethan’s “plus one” to every event, even she’d have to throw her own party to get the opportunity. She liked how easily they talked about it, how Ethan actively participated in their planning without any pressure.

It was night and day from the man she’d once stormed out on.

Her chest ached with pride.

When Ethan reached Naveen’s message, he almost seemed nervous. As if suggesting a weekend away might break their fragile perfection.

“What do you think?” Ethan asked, when Charlie had sufficient time to read the exchange, “A weekend at the lake?”

Ethan had a whole pitch planned out. He was ready to remind Charlie that spring had just reached the city, the sunshine melting the ice and promising new beginnings. They could get out of the city and reconnect in the place where they’d first fallen in love. It felt like the right place to start their new chapter.

But a pitch wasn’t necessary.

“Yeah,” Charlie smiled softly, “A weekend with Dr. Ramsey. Sounds perfect.”

“A weekend with Dr. Greene,” Ethan echoed, mirroring her soft smile as he rubbed a gentle pattern on her back.

Charlie leaned into Ethan’s side, exhaustion peaking through their blinding happiness. Both of them were tempted to evade sleep altogether and stay awake all night, trading their wasted hours of rest with the promise of tender whispers and sacred promises. But relaxation had already seeped into their bones and lowered their defenses. They were both fighting to stay awake.

It was Ethan who declared the first move.

Pressing a tender kiss to Charlie’s forehead, Ethan suggested, “We should go to bed.”

“No, no,” Charlie shook her head, “It’s too early.”

“You have to be at work in a few hours,” Ethan reminded her, though he lacked conviction. He was just as willing to stay up all night as she was, if not more so since he didn’t have a morning shift.

“I’m a resident. I can handle a sleepless night.”

“Come on,” Ethan nudged her gently, “You’re being stubborn.”

“So are you.”

Ethan shrugged, Fair point.

Charlie eyed him warily – ready for battle. Ready for their opposing wills to dominate their minds until they were forced to pick a winner. Ready to draw blood before admitting defeat.

But then a moment passed, and it was all silly.

Charlie was tired, and Ethan would still be here in the morning. He would be there the night after, and the day after, and every day they were willing to share.

So, Charlie said, “Fine. Let’s go to bed.”

Ethan appreciated the magnanimous resolution, and he peppered her cheeks with quiet praise. Though, admittedly, he was inclined to think that everything Charlotte did was perfect. After kissing Jenner goodnight, the pair went to Ethan’s bedroom, ignoring the alarm clock on Ethan’s bedside table that would surely ruin their morning.

It wasn’t Charlie’s first time in Ethan’s bed tonight, but when she climbed into her usual place on the right side of the bed, it felt monumental.

The rose-colored glasses of their reunion lifted, and the gravity of the situation forced them back to earth. Instead of feeling silly for their reverence, they felt absurd for not having more.

War is over. The end of days never came. Insurmountable grief faded away. All the terrible things didn’t matter anymore. The past was in black and white, and the future was painted in vivid color and neon welcome signs.

Charlie is home. Charlie is in our bed. Everything is right, Ethan thought.

Charlie and Ethan tried to act casual as they settled into the sheets, but they couldn’t help but stare at the other. Their eyes were wide with meaning, communicating what neither had the bravery to say. When Charlie’s eyes began to water, Ethan quietly stroked her cheek.

After what felt like a lifetime, Ethan whispered, “I really did miss you.”

As if something like that needed to be said. As if it didn’t carry through every conversation. As if it wasn’t part of his DNA. As if she didn’t feel it with every adoring kiss and smile.

“I missed you, too,” Charlie met his honesty with her own, though her voice lacked his strength. At the slightest hint of a crack, Ethan tucked Charlie into his embrace, and Charlie took the opportunity to breath him in.

Sandalwood. Cedar. Vanilla. A hint of mint.

The smell of home, she thought.

Nestled safely in Ethan’s arms, Charlie’s eyelids grew heavy. Weeks of sleepless nights caught up with her in an instant, rendering her half-asleep in mere moments. As Ethan peered down at her, his chest squeezed with affection.

And suddenly, he knew.

He knew with absolute certainty that Charlotte Greene was his future.

He was overcome with an urge to propose right then and there. It didn’t matter that he didn’t have a ring or a plan or even ambience. Ethan just wanted to marry her. Hell, given the option, he would have run to City Hall right then and there to seal the deal.

Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but something stopped him.

We need time, he realized. The wounds were too fresh and the peace too fragile. He didn’t want to rush into anything that would endanger their precious newfound happiness, nor did he need to rush.

So, despite his overwhelming urge to the contrary, Ethan decided to wait – and it was just waiting. Not refusing or dismissing the idea. He knew they would make it, and he was sure that she would say yes when it was time.

But stopping himself from proposing didn’t eradicate all Ethan’s impulses.

No, he wasn’t out of grand gestures or over-eager requests.

“Move in with me,” Ethan blurted out.

Charlie stirred, wiping at her eyes as she sleepily asked, “What?”

“Move in with me,” Ethan repeated, less confident this time.

“You’re serious?” Charlie’s eyes widened.

“I am,” Ethan nodded, though he didn’t seem very sure. Despite his obvious commitment to the idea she move in, he didn’t have his argument ready – a rarity in itself. Ethan had never made any big life decision without a reasoned argument.

“You’re always here anyway,” Ethan softened, eagerness belying every justification, “and I want you here. All the time. I want to come home to you and share our closet, and I want to add your books to our bookshelves. We’re living in the ‘in between’ – with you sometimes living here and sometimes not. I’m tired of that. I want to be with you fully. In every way I can. This isn’t home without you.”

Charlie hesitated.

She was startled to realize that she already knew the answer. Before he even started talking, she wanted to say yes. And there was no good reason to say no.

It seemed rushed, but was it really? They’d been together for over a year, and she’d spent more nights here than anywhere else. Did time apart fundamentally change that? Did they feel so fragile that sudden changes would shatter them? Or had it been the status quo that drove them apart in the first place?

And did any of it fucking matter?

Would waiting really make things better? Would a slow approach save them from future disaster? Hiding hadn’t done them any favors, nor had abundant caution kept them from starting their relationship in the first place.

Charlie wanted to come home to Ethan. She wanted to put a name to all the things they’d silently endorsed for months, including her continued presence in this apartment. She wanted to cover the space with evidence of their relationship until it was little more than a shrine.

So, perhaps she didn’t give the offer the careful consideration it deserved. Or maybe she gave it too much consideration when the answer would always be the same.

“Yes,” Charlie blurted out.

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah,” Charlie nodded, realization creeping across her features, “My answer is yes. I want to move in with you.”

Ethan breathed a sigh of relief, happily covering her face with kisses. Between excited kisses, he assured her that she could always keep her old apartment, and he would understand if she changed her mind.

Charlie stopped him, “You don’t need to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Try to form a back-up plan,” Charlie settled her gaze on his, “I’m confident we’ll work out.”

“You are?” Ethan repeated breathlessly. It was one thing for Ethan to be blind in love, but it was quite another to realize she was just as high off this feeling.

“Yeah,” Charlie rested her hand on his chest, feeling the jackhammer of his heart, “Aren’t you?”

And amazingly, he was.

Nodding his head, Ethan whispered, “Yeah, I am.”

“Good,” Charlie leaned her head against his chest, “I love you, Ethan.”

“I love you, too, Charlotte.”

That was how they fell asleep – holding onto each other with persistent desperation and adoring reverence. Like they were so lucky to even get the opportunity to fall asleep together. Like it was a gift from the universe that they were here with each other. But it was better than fate – it was deliberate choice. It was an active effort to stay.

And it was the beginning of everything.

#choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan ramsey x charlie greene #with and without #fanfiction #open heart #pixelberry #WIP #Dr. Ethan Ramsey

[notknickers]

EDIT: for the uncensored version, go to https://www.pillowfort.social/posts/3861946

get him while he's hot...

below the cut, a censored version of my latest work.

it's been an interesting process. i've tried a technique that, i'm sure, is very common, but that i never tried before now, feeling more at ease with my previous method. what pisses me off (besides not being able to post the original, which, based on the reactions of the people who have seen it, is worth it) is that the censorship hood i painted in a few minutes came out better than könig's hood to which i dedicated more time than i should have and which is eyeless on purpose.

(it's turned backwards so he doesn't know where he is, nor what is happening.)

(another thing that pisses me off is that you get the resized, lower quality image, because the original - much like könig himself - was to large to handle.)

thanks to @kathy-ifnt and @eyerotyourbrain for the encouragement and the advice.

enjoy what's available and, please, if you happen to share on any other platform, please, credit me as knickers and link back to my tumblr.

#cod #call of duty #cod fanart #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mwii #konig mwii #könig headcanons #konig headcanons #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig smut #konig smut #könig fanart #konig fanart #my doodles #minors dni

[askganon]

My apologies if this is too sensitive of a topic, my Lord, but if I may ask it: what is your opinion of the man named Donald Trump, who was elected as the leader of his nation some time ago because of the nation’s suppression of its voters and convoluted imbalance of the value of each vote based on the voter’s location of residence? He no longer leads that nation, though I hear he plans to again soon, even though many believe he has made a fool of himself, particularly in the last decade.

There is no sensitivity here. This is a conflict for your realm, not mine. This man nor any of his actions hold any weight to me and mine, so I do not need to censor myself for the emotional balance of others.

Who is more foolish, the fool or the fool who follows him?

Often I have seen those who already own half the world only seek the other half. He is no different, and has used his clout to speak on illusioned victories and win over the hearts of those he deems pathetic enough to listen.

All he has to him is his word, and that alone is rotten and worthless.

He might as well be a Hylian.

#ganondorf #legend of zelda

[gayrogues]

after seeing many posts over the past year or so about what level of murder and violence is in-character for the riddler, and changing my own opinion on it so many times, i’m finally writing my own take about it. i’m gonna preface this by saying i’m not writing this to hate on anyone’s interpretations, nor am i vagueing anyone who’s posted their own takes on this recently - i don’t think there’s a “correct” interpretation here, actually! i’m just here to infodump :]

first things first, the riddler does in fact kill people, we know this. but, i do think i know what comic contributed most to the misconception that he’s never killed anyone back in the early days of his character, and to the interpretation that he’s just a little guy whose crimes are mostly harmless:

(from when is a door, by neil gaim*n - censoring his name because he’s on this website and i’m afraid of somehow summoning him)

i often see this page cited by people who think the riddler should be a silly harmless guy, and it very much shaped my own cringey sanded-down interpretation of the rogues before i got deep into comics. but how true is it? (disclaimer, i know that “when is a door” is about nostalgia for the silver age/batman ‘66/etc. era of batman media, not neil gaim*n claiming that this is how every batman comic has been before a certain point - i'm not trying to actually disprove anything that was said in this page, and a lot of the examples i'll be mentioning were published after this comic.) first, let’s look at his pre-crisis appearances.

right from the riddler’s first introduction in detective comics #140, he puts some dude in a puzzle death trap. in many of his following appearances, he tones it down and mostly just sticks to stealing shit or trying to kill batman, with no civilian casualties. (not always, though - there’s a few issues here and there where he kills a random guy or tries to blow up the city, like batman #292 and detective comics #362.) there are very few issues where his crimes are almost entirely harmless, like the brave and the bold #68. this statement from jim gordon in batman #362 sums him up, for the most part:

things start getting more inconsistent in the 80s/90s part of the post-crisis era, which was when the previously mentioned “when is a door” was published. you have the question #26, which implies that the riddler has been very harmless up until this point - gordon states that the only person edward is likely to hurt with his crimes is himself, and he’s considered such a minor threat that they let him go free because prosecuting him wouldn’t be worth the effort. then there’s dark knight, dark city, where he happily tries to kill a whole bunch of people including babies for the sake of a scheme. then there’s showcase ‘94 #4, with this comment from jeremiah arkham:

then there’s the batman chronicles #3, where he’s back to casually shooting people to death. then there’s the long halloween and dark victory, where he’s some pathetic guy who kinda just shows up sometimes and isn’t enough of a threat for batman to send to arkham. you get the idea. of course, there���s more within these issues than what i’ve mentioned - in the question #26, he’s pretty on board to start killing people despite his previous harmlessness, while in dark knight dark city, both his henchmen and batman comment on his bloodthirstiness as being out of the ordinary for him. (not to mention that it’s debatable how much control he had over his actions, because he was kinda being possessed by demons.)

unfortunately i’m not going to keep going down a timeline of every riddler comic because there’s still so many i haven’t read, and this post was mostly meant to analyze his 40s - 90s appearances as many characters began taking a darker turn after that point. i have a few more screenshots from the 2000s onwards pointing to a generally harmless riddler, but there really aren't many:

(i don’t remember which one this is from, sorry)

(catwoman lonely city #2 by cliff chiang - i feel like i maybe shouldn’t include it because it’s an elseworld, but it did influence my own characterization of edward back when i interpreted him this way. i recommend this comic so much btw)

i don’t really have a conclusion for this post, or a specific interpretation i'm arguing for - i just wanted to analyze how accurate this somewhat-common fanon portrayal of him is, based on the era of comics that i think a lot of fans are drawing from. thanks for coming to my riddler ted talk :]

#my own take on him is somewhere in the middle he's killed before and would kill again but it's not often his main objective #i used to be like aughhh i hate edgy batman rogues because i read one bad day: the riddler and i hated it so much it's unreal #but i've pinpointed exactly why i hate that characterization so much and it's not because he kills #it's because it's no fun! he's not having fun with it there's no gimmick no uniqueness no panache #like. compare with audio adventures joker where he does super fucked up shit but he's still undeniably The Joker #okay enough rambling [explodes] #dc #riddler #ransom.txt

[cryptomiracle]

Jeff the killer x tall! fem!reader

(short one-shot)

warnings;

Reader works for Slenderman

This is kinda short lol

Jeff is 5'6(hc), so reader is implied to be over 5'7

This does not apply to my other headcanons for Jeff;?@;#

Mentions of murder

Blood

Cursing, it is censored tho

I apologize if the way I describe rooms don't make sense, I'm horrible at describing rooms lol

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

Jeff the killer is a stone cold serial killer, he shows no remorse for his actions, nor any compassion for his victims. He finds pleasure in the pain of others, and takes even more pleasure in inflicting it

Never in a thousand years would anyone think he'd be absolutely head over heels for someone.

But here you are

When Jeff first saw you, he felt a little threatened by you.

The way you towered over him, plus your menacing glare was enough to make anybody uncomfortable.

At first, he'd treat you how he treated everyone.

He'd tease you, steal your things, and start fights with you, both verbal and psychical.

And each time you'd defend yourself, or mess with him, it'd only fuel his hatred for you.

But that changed when he got assigned to go on a mission, with you

it was a simple mission, break into a few houses and kill a few people, you know, basic stuff.

Jeff did the dirty work, as you kept watch.

Everything was going smoothly until you got to the last house, which Slenderman had specifically warned you about.

(Slenderman never really told you why exactly he needs those people killed, but he does tell you what they look like, and how dangerous they may be.)

"maybe we should go in toget-" you were saying, before you were rudely interrupted, making you furrow your brows

"no f*cking way." He scoffed

"you just keep watching, I'll handle it"

"wouldn't want you to get hurt.." he said sarcastically, before walking upstairs, to the master bedroom where the victim was.

You looked at your watch, nearly 5 minutes passed, and he still wasn't done.

You huffed before heading up stairs to check on him.

*CRASH*

You quickly picked up your pace, and you could feel anger bubbling in your stomach thinking of how much he regularly messed stuff up

Once you saw the door, you quickly opened it to see Jeff on the ground, being violently choked by a buff older man.

He was kicking, and scratching at the man, but he wasn't letting up.

The room was completely trashed, there was blood on the walls, and bed.

You couldn't see a wound on Jeff, (except for his ego) so it must've come from the old guy.

He was clearly occupied with Jeff, you took this moment to tackle him.

The old man winced in pain as his back hit the hardwood floor, once he processed what was going on, with one swift move he kneed you in the abdomen as hard as possible

You groaned in pain, as you rolled over onto the floor and quickly placed your hand on the spot he hit.

He wasted no time to get up, and kick you in the stomach.

he pulled his leg back, this time aiming for your face, but before he could land another blow, Jeff jumped onto his back and started biting, punching, and yelling.

His attacks were uncoordinated, and fast, like that of a wild animal.

The man tried to pry Jeff's arms from around his neck, but to no avail.

you ignored the pain in your stomach, and punched the man right in the jaw, causing a tooth to fly out.

The man tried to hit you back, but missed, you then hit him in the lower abdomen, where Jeff had previously stabbed him.

he groaned, before falling back against the window, crushing Jeff under his weight & creating a crack in the window.

"AUGH" Jeff yelled, as he let go of the man's neck.

the man attempted to stand up, before you punched him in the gut

The man winced, you saw as Jeff quickly crawled away from him, and over to the side.

He looked up at you, his face was seething with anger.

(the old guy, not Jeff)

he attempted to stand up, by pushing himself up the window.

*crack*

the window started splintering

Before he could fully stand up, the window busted, causing the man to fall through it.

"OH" Jeff yelled, as he crawled towards the windowsill.

You walked towards the window, and peeked out to see the man's body lying limp, and lifeless across his own driveway.

"what now.." Jeff muttered

"I.. I don't know" you stared at the body in disbelief

After a moment of silence, Jeff sighed.

"thanks,," he said in a tone that was almost a whisper

"what was that?" You looked at him and slightly smiled

He simply stared at you, and frowned

"well.." you huffed as you grabbed jeffs arm and pulled it around your torso

"we gotta go before the police get here" you said as you made your way down the stairs, still holding onto Jeff.

once the two of you made it out of the front door, you started to speak again

"you know-" you paused before stepping into the sidewalk

"that old guy really f*cked you up" you said with a slight snicker

"and look what he did to you" He yelled with no regard with who would hear him

This would cause the two of you to argue all the way to the car.

The ride home was quiet, the only noise coming from the radio.

Jeff decided to ride in the backseat of the car, so he could take a nap while you drove, since he was "more injured"

In all honesty, he pretended to be asleep.

He just couldn't quit staring at you, in what he tried to convince himself was annoyance, or hate and not something else.

A while after, Jeff found himself thinking about you more, and more.

Not just about how much he disliked you, and the things about you that annoyed him, but about how soft and warm you were, also how tough you can be, how you won't take sh!t from anyone, not even him.

and how although you annoyed him, he enjoyed being around you.

but he also thought about how much he hated seeing you around anyone else

He was conflicted, he had spent months holding nothing but contempt for you, and then suddenly you come and 'save' him and he can't stop thinking about you.

It was seriously p!ssing him off

And the more he was around you, the more his feelings grew.

It took a year for him to realize that he had feelings for you, and another year for him to confess them.

-ONE-SHOT-OVER-

sorry this is so short, I started it awhile ago and I wanted to get it out of drafts.. i may make some hcs about this, but anyway ty all so much for the hearts, reposts, and follows, they mean sm to me <3

#creepypasta #jeff the killer #one shot #jeff the killer x reader #Jeff the killer one shot #fem reader #tall reader #creepypasta one shot

[a-lost-crow]

I headcanon that Frank would just unconsciously rewrite the show script of Welcome Home. And it’s done numerous times like:

Implying that he doesn’t have a preference for women

Made it explicitly canon that he likes men

The show script originally making Julie and Frank’s interactions to be romantic

[Except it’s switched from Julie to Eddie]

[And the Frank and Julie having an actual normal platonic friendship]

Not knowing what a pineapple looks like

[He thought Wally was messing around until Howdy actually had to show him a pineapple]

Saying a censored curse word

Saying a curse word except it’s uncensored

Changed a college that he studied in

Double majored on two things instead of one

Identified himself as non binary

Sang a different song than what the script originally intended

Got sick on his own centric episode

[The episode is originally about caring for the wildlife]

[Until Frank got sick. So the lesson of the episode had to be changed with prevention of getting sick and how to treat it]

Didn’t correct someone because what they said was actually right

And the thing is that Wally is aware that he’s a puppet ever since his creation. And he’s trying so hard to not reveal the truth to Frank (and he’s okay with that). Whenever Frank accidentally changes the script Wally would just questionably laugh.

Also Wally can’t directly tell anyone that they’re in a show. Whenever he tries he physically can’t speak. His body would make his hands cover his mouth and words can’t process nor can be deciphered (like Pearl from Steven Universe)

#Welcome Home #Welcome Home Puppet Show #Frank Frankly #Wally Darling #WH Headcanon #I'm not exactly sure how changing the script works #Just have a suspension of disbelief #Or think of it like the Truman Show

[dragonsfromthemoon]

ON ASOIAF, AGE GAP AND RHAELYA

This is a topic discussed over and over on fandom spaces. Often it is brought up by antis as a “gotcha!” against the fans of certain fictional couples — and on this meta, my focus is mostly on Rhaegar and Lyanna, though some arguments can be used for other ships as well.

That said, we have two ways of looking into this subject in the context of A Song of Ice and Fire.

Parting from a doylist analysis, we could rightfully criticize George R. R. Martin for his approach to age and relationships, especially regarding his female characters. In Rhaegar and Lyanna's case, we could object him putting an underage girl in a relationship with a married man about eight years her senior. If I were the one writing this story, I would have aged Lyanna up; there is no narrative/worldbuilding/plot reason for not doing that. Alas, I am not George R. R. Martin, the story does not belong to me.

The gist here, however, is reprobating the author's conscious choices, nor the characters themselves or their relationship. Rhaegar and Lyanna cannot make decisions or be held accountable in the real world, as they are only fragments of George R. R. Martin's imagination and words on a blank paper. The same is valid for any other relationship featured on Planetos.

Nevertheless, a doylist analysis is bound to face some questions and run into some issues as well. The first being, who is the one raising the objections? The answer is crucial, because the objector parts from their own vision of the world — which is dictated by one's upbringing, moral and culture. Needless to say, all of these things vary from person to person. Different fans will approach the matter of age gaps differently, based on their own opinions and experiences. The second one is, who gets to judge what is right or wrong? And this is followed by the question: what is the the acceptable age gap — 10 years? 5 years? 2 years? 1 year? Months? We would debate over it endlessly, because there is really no right answer, and everyone would apply their own biases to the issue. Thirdly, why did the objector decide to engage with a material that features such age gaps in the first place? We have the power over what we read and watch, over the fandoms we join; as well as the power of not engaging with triggering content for us anymore. Sanitizing fiction is not the way to go, because it brings more harm than good in the form of persecution and harassment of content creators and censorship (again, who gets to decide what must be censored and why?)

There are two more intertwined factors to take into account when discussing a doylist perspective: George R. R. Martin's historical inspirations and worldbuilding. Though so many times exaggerated and factually wrong, the fact remains that he draws inspiration from the European Middle Age (with focus on England) to build Planetos. And that reflects directly on the issues of age in his work. Childhood, adulthood, marriageable age, age of context are notions that differ drastically from our contemporary ones. We are talking about distincts periods of history, with distinct approaches to social and cultural norms, after all. Here the author himself discusses the issue of ages, if one would be interested to read on the topic.

Which brings me to the watsonian analysis part of this essay. Above all, the in-universe context matters here. And if we hope to understand the characters, their actions and views on relationships in a deep level, we cannot dissociate them from their historical and social in-universe background.

By the time Lyanna met Rhaegar, she was 14 and already engaged to Robert Baratheon. Her fiance Robert, by the way, was also older than her. By all accounts he desired her and claimed to love her, constructed an image of her in his mind. It is safe to speculate she would have been expected to marry Robert not long after Brandon Stark's marriage to Catelyn, if her elopement with Rhaegar and the Rebellion had not happened. My point here is, this was hardly a frowned upon marriage arrangement in A Song of Ice and Fire. Except for Lyanna, that is, as she did not desire Robert nor this marriage. Even so, her issue was not with his age (her distaste for Robert is a whole other discussion).

Well, when Lyanna starts her affair with Rhaegar de facto, she is about 16 (not 14, as antis like to claim; let's get our facts straight). By Westerosi standards, a woman grown, apt to marry and bear children. Rhaegar was about 24. Thus they have a 8 years age gap. This is hardly a remarkable age difference in Westeros, as so many couples have it even bigger. Almost all of romantic entanglements in this story have an element of age imbalance. I will not name these examples; I trust the readers to come up with their own.

My point here is, through watsonian lens, the age gap between Lyanna and Rhaegar is scarcely a problem or something to be particularly condemned. And quite frankly, there are other aspects of their characters and their dynamic that are more relevant to discuss, if we as readers take upon us to analyse them.

#ashter rambles #rhaegar targaryen #lyanna stark #rhaelya

[lilacartsmadsion]

I am scared to talk about this, and have been for a while.

Am I really the asshole in this situation? Am I really racist and fucked up for headcanon-ing berserk cacao as a (sort of) mindless beast? Because I am actually beginning to believe so.

I and some others are being harassed for having different interpretations of Berserk Cacao.

Let me explain

Basically I was banned from RiverArts server about my fic about Berserk cacao eating pomegranate, which I deleted when I understood how fucked up it was, and understandably they felt uncomfortable.

But then they went as far as to post it on twitter, without censoring me and the other 14 YEAR OLD’S names, and basically ‘expose’ me and @cakehoundsyndrome and their friend for their supposed ‘racism’ towards cacao. And these are basically adults. Also, I just need to call out the hypocrisy of River for a second that @randomspagetti also made a point on in twitter, is that they got mad at @cakehoundsyndrome for making licorice be abused in their past when they did the same to wildberry.

And also, most people on twitter agreed with Minty0oz and RiverArt in calling us racist and saying we’re fucked up and saying we’ve crossed the line.

I believe the line was crossed when you all decided to harass 14 year olds.

And may I add, we have apologised so many times, but they have actively ignored them and chose to keep harassing us.

Please..I need you and @kotymeaw’s opinion.

Ahem-

Although I do respect those who actively try and actively promote portraying black people as monsters being bad,

However I will say a few things…

1.) Do not harass 14 year olds OR MINORS, for headcanoning something that they did not know was wrong.

I would like to remind you that some of us 14 year olds were not accustomed to racial representation in our early lives, some of us are not aware there are DO’s and DONT’s when it comes to racial representation. Therefore as the ADULTS in the situation, you should know better than to actively bully and harass a minor for their mistakes and behavior. That does not do them good in the future.

(Speaking from someone who was ACTIVELY BULLIED FOR HAVING AN OPINION OR BEING HERSELF IN REAL LIFE TO THE POINT WHERE PEOPLE TOLD ME ‘DO NOT BE FRIENDS SHE’S BAD’ TO MY FACE! I WAS A FUCKING CHILD, IT DID NOT HELP ME AT ALL I WAS BULLIED INTO FUCKING INTENSE SOCIAL ANXIETY)

Harassing people for making mistakes even after they apologize and try their damnest to make a mistake. (AND HAVING AN APOLOGY THAT IS BETTER THAN COLLEEN.) WILL NOT turn them into a better person, perhaps, you’ll turn them out for the worst.

What if you harass someone for that and they never put racial representation in their works again because their scared of getting it wrong? That can happen.

Especially if you harass MINORS, most of the time minors are still children, they still need to grow on their own pace, trying to teach them through bullying and harassment won’t help them, it will only make them worse or make them disappear off the face of the fucking planet.

2.) Berserk Cacao has not been confirmed to be a derivative of his trauma nor was it derived from Pomegranate’s spell.

Pomegrante’s spell might have activated it, BUT-! She lost control of the spell THEN Cacao went Berserk.

The moment Cacao RESISTED Pomegranate lost control of the spell and Cacao went Berserk, causing him to lose control as well.

Berserk Cacao is only created by Cacao’s sheer will and need to defend himself, not a result of his trauma. Pomegranate remarks ‘Is this the power of the Soul Jam?’ Meaning even she underestimated how powerful Cacao was.

I want you to remember that Cacao has the powers of A GOD in his hands, the Ancients are canonically OP as fuck. Cacao ‘Split the Day and Night’ in his story when fighting dragons, Pure Vanilla sealed a WHOLE ASS KINGDOM WITH HIS SHEER MIGHT ALONE WITHOUT ANY SOUL JAM! Hollyberry can SINGLE HANDEDLY DEAL WITH ANY DRAGON.

So in lore technically yes, Cacao can resist Pomegranate’s mind spell. It’s just a misconception that Pomegranate had control over the situation.

Berserk Cacao was not created by trauma, he was created as a defensive mechanism from Cacao’s sheer will alone. However, Cacao mindlessly attacked because he thought he was in incredible danger, he started attacking his subjects, the main crew and even Pomegranate herself the cookie who they said WAS SUPPOSED TO BE IN CONTROL OF THE SITUATION was scared of Cacao.

And this is a power established by the Soul Jam.

(Look, I’m an overthinker, and though I am currently procrastinating on the lore of CRK, I did NOT procrastinate on a whole lore about the damn Soul Jam because damnit do I need it for my own fanfic, wanna know why I joined this darn fandom, FOR THE LORE AND FOR THE THEORIES SO YOU CAN CALL ME MATPAT FOR ALL I CARE!)

Again…

Please DO NOT HARASS 14 year olds for their mistakes it is your job as adults to GUIDE THEM.

I don’t care if you’re 16 or 15 YOU ARE THEIR SENIOR YOU ARE THEIR ELDEST YOU ARE THEIR EXAMPLE YOU DO NOT HARASS THEM.

Because they’re either gonna destroy themselves or others. Who knows they might learn to harass others everytime they do something wrong.

Why am I saying this? That’s literally my role in real life, I am an elder sister of one. And she gets into a lot of toxic people in her life. If I see you doing this again, Be sure I’ll make you feel a taste of your own medicine and dig up some old wounds.

DO NOT HARASS MINORS, you adults SHOULD KNOW BETTER. You are the adults, they are the teenagers. You are supposed to be teachers, guides and examples for them, NOT THE SOURCE OF THEIR PAIN. BE BETTER EXAMPLES.

#cookie run kingdom #dark cacao cookie #berserk cacao #important #pls stop harassing 14 year old even though they did #they made a MISTAKE and apologized don’t get carried away

[cursedzucchini]

DC x DP prompt #8

Not quite prompt but backstory for one??

So listen recently I've been reading some Jason & Danny r siblings ffs, and what if it was like the family curse or something?

Like in the ancient times their ancestor (let's call him Todd) was kinda chilling, when they suddenly proclaimed they are above death, and are so much better than that. Y'know. Like you do.

And death took this personally. They took away their right for death, making them immortal.

Which yeah, sounds like a sweet deal, if death also didn't send their sibling Misfortune to follow them through their eternal life.

So Todd caught illnesses. They were beaten by bandits. Their head was squished under a beam.

Yet they still survived all of this.

Slowly throughout the years they started forgetting about, well, everything. They didn't remember their past, nor how they cursed out death and this was the result.

And because of this... They started cussing out life. Who else could it be, keeping them alive other than them?? Why did they hold on to them so obsessively, just let them go!

And Life heard that. And decided to take away their gracious gift of life.

But just as they were about to, their companion, Death, stopped them. They explained this fool insulted them too, and that is why they took away their death, and if life took away their life, well... That would make Death's revenge meaningless.

And so they made a deal. All of Todd's descendants would either live extremely short life, or long cursed life.

All of Todd's descendants met one of these fates. And now there were only two left.

Only Jason Todd, and Daniel Fenton.

And Life and Death as a final spit on the foolish mortal, long lost to the void of madness, decided to take away their deaths and their lives. And as a sign this feud has ended, they also returned both of them.

So yeah. Those r the reasons why Jason & Danny siblings ended up the way they did. Like petty gods go pretty wild on their revenge. Also also their ancestor Todd looked just like them bc it's even more funnier this way. Also also also Danny inherited their inability to censor himself.

Yeah that's all, enjoy ✌️

#jason todd #daniel fenton #danny fenton #jason and danny are siblings #dcxdp #crossover #life and death #lmao death and life are pissed at this random guy #just a lil guy #idk but imahine how fucking pissed life and death would be when danny became king #lets say death & life r in a relationship (not quite platonic #not qiite platonic just something much more) and now death's boss is this stupid ass twink who's ancestor they cursed #what the fuck fate #yeah life and death r petty as shit and would destroy a whole universe just bc of some stupid bs like deez nuts joke #dpxdc crossover #dpxdc writing prompt