#and because no matter the bad things I go through I'm sure I can bounce back | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 7 months

Note

we've had ex geto... but what about ex gojo?

YOUR FAVORITE EX

↳ GOJO さとる + fem!reader

Note : ooo... ex gojo 🤤 hope u likey

Warnings : 🔞 minors do not read/interact : contains smut/explicit content, kinda toxic themes, some angst, baby trapping, pregnancy, dirty talk, unprotected sex + creampies, possessiveness

Playme : streets

🍒 More from Jay : Gojo works / Gojo fave works / JJK works / oct. reqs open

Ex!Gojo makes the break up everyone's business. And of course it's you breaking up with his obnoxious, overdramatic ass. Multiple times, too. You two have broken up so many times in fact that your friends just don't take it seriously anymore when you announce "We're breaking up". That just means "We're getting back together in two weeks (lol)."

Ex!Gojo pulls the "I can't find anyone like you" and the "Aw, don't be like that, baby" cards on you.

Ex!Gojo claims to be your favorite ex. Yeah you hate him... buuut he's still your favorite... right? Right? He'll nag you to admit it. It makes his heart flutter and ego swell bigger than his head.

Ex!Gojo is a menace, always deterring your potential new lovers and declining dates on your behalf. He gives you a stupid excuse with that cheeky smirk, "What? It's not like they could love you better than me, anyways. I'm the best. Don't waste your time. Just come back to me, yeah? You know my arms are still open to you."

Ex!Gojo doesn't act like an ex at all. He still kisses you. Still hugs you. Invites you for every party. Visits your apartment at 2 AM when he's drunk and rambles to you about all the crazy things he always rambled about at 2 AM. And you don't treat him like an ex because... his kisses put you in a trance. Then you realize oh, we're broken up, what the hell.

Ex!Gojo clings to your body and holds it with the same possessiveness that he always used to. He places his big hand on your hip and grips it tight, especially at parties. "Stay close to me."

Ex!Gojo taunts you during those late-night hatefucks, "You missed this fat cock fucking up your guts, huh? I know you did. Don't you fucking lie to me." while he's balls deep in you, skin slapping loudly against yours in the backseat of his car. He just kindly offered you a drive home, and then one thing led to another and you ended up on his lap having his big hands moving your hips up and down. "That's it, admit how much you missed me 'n bounce on this cock, baby. Admit it."

Ex!Gojo fucks you harder when he's your ex, making sure you're super full and stuffed with his cock. He loves molding your tiny hole to accommodate his shape, hitting your sweet spots with mean pounding thrusts until you scream those three little words for him. "I miss you!" he smiles when he hears this, presses his forehead to yours and coos while cumming inside, "Missed you too, baby. Missed this pussy. You know it's m-mine forever, don't you? No one can fuck you better than I can..." and it's true, no one knows the map of your sweet spots and erogenous zones better than he does. He's masterful at pleasuring you.

Ex!Gojo cums inside you more than he did while you two were dating. Who knows why. Seems like his animalistic, primal brain kicked in and he thought well if I put a baby in you... you'll have a piece of me forever. You'll have to come back to me. And his seed is potent. You bet you're getting pregnant. He has the wolfiest smile when you bitterly show him the pregnancy test. "Ooh, baby I'm so proud of that little pussy for getting pregnant. Let's have a celebratory fuck."

Ex!Gojo knows that no matter where you go, he'll always find you. His high school sweetheart. His five year girlfriend. The mother of his child. The only woman that's ever had such a strong hold on him. The only one he's ever been weakened by.

Ex!Gojo cries sometimes after creaming up inside your pussy, "Please come back... I miss you so bad..." and starts sobbing like a puppy into the crook of your neck when you run your fingers through his snowy hair.

Ex!Gojo feels his broken heart get pieced back together when you finally return to him. And just like that, he slots half his soul into yours. "Baby... you're the best thing this world ever gave me. Just let me marry you, please..."

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

2K notes · View notes

decolonize-the-left · 9 months

Note

(to preface this, i am white. figured i should make that known off the bat) i wanted to come bounce an idea off of you that i've been rolling around in my head for a bit. i have this pet theory that, for the population ill call here "white progressive queers who know very little about poc and racism", a large underpinning of this group's interaction with poc is a Fear of Fucking Up and more generally, moral purity thought. they (maybe even "we"- im still hopefully learning myself) get so paralyzed by this idea and line of thinking that goes something like this: "1) since i know nothing about poc & racism, then 2) clearly in discussions about these topics, i will fuck up and say something wrong or perhaps even Bigoted, which if i did 3) makes me an Irreparable Ontologically Evil Racist, hence 4) i should just be quiet and never ask questions/speak on these topics" which then results in said White Progressive Queer and those around them never learning. i wanted to know what you think abt this and tell me if im on the mark or not

also thank u for the work u do on this blog, ive found so many helpful resources through you

You're right. In my experience that's exactly how it is.

I want to add tho: yes they're uncomfortable that they might fuck up and be considered racists sure, but a huge part of that stems from the massive inability to place the discomfort where it belongs. Which is with their own guilt.

Instead they blame the conversations for making them uncomfortable.

And let's take some worthy notes here: this is not how white people feel all the time. Because white people are not uncomfortable making these fuck ups in front of other white people.

So it's not that the conversation is uncomfortable. They are made uncomfortable. And they are made uncomfortable because even when discussing anti-racism they step into the role of oppressor (the little fuck ups or accidentally bigoted comments) so naturally and God forbid other (not white) people can See how easy it is.

My advice for white people that are like this (that nobody asked for) is

Your fuckups do not define you but how you react to them does

Listen, respect, learn

That's it. That's the whole list. Say something bad? Apologize, but don't over-explain yourself. Ask how to fix it. Google how you fucked up so you understand why it wasn't okay. Google again to get idea of how your fuck up hurts people. Google some more to make sure you don't do it again. Go to some safe space and ask some clarifying questions. Listen, respect, learn.

Maybe the people you fucked up with don't forgive you and that's okay, they don't have to. But YOU won't ever make anyone feel bad or less than in the same way ever again and that's what matters.

Having one less person making racist comments matters even if it's a struggle for that person to get to that point.

I need y'all to understand that none of you are gonna just wake up being suddenly perfect anti-racist allies. And we will literally never ever have allies like that if y'all refuse to even sit with your own discomfort.

•°•°•

This weird morality issue white people have over looking racist is also just such a non-problem. Like if y'all want a PoC perspective: white people are already being racist ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ ....we Already see y'all as racists. And also I'm gonna experience racism anyway so I'd rather it be because someone was just being ignorant on the path to anti-racism.

Y'all are so worried about how shit Looks that you can't be bothered how really things are? Like you're so afraid of looking racist you'd allow yourselves to continue being actually ignorant and casually racist. And to avoid what? Being uncomfortable for a minute? Being called-out? A mean comment?

We are trying to stop hate crimes and genocide. Like that's what we are dealing with okay. Accountability for your actions is an acquired taste but I think y'all can handle some discomfort considering.

#every time im confronted with the idea that white feelings are why BIPOC are being killed daily i get umhinged tbh #like i might die if i call the cops cuz YOUD feel bad if you talked about racism? AND YOURE JUST KEEP NOT DOING IT?? WHY #asked #answered #sorry #some asks just like #do this to me #white people like this make me wanna shake them back and forth viscerally #whiteness

927 notes · View notes

cowgurrrl · 1 month

Note

Ok I have fluff angst idea…Charlie is pregnant and freaking out about telling Joel because she is kinda young. And Joel is mad, scared, excited , crying and also grandpa Joel?!

Hello why did this make me tear up

April, Come She Will

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: it’s canon to me that reader and Joel live to be 100 and nothing bad ever happens to them ever again

Summary: The next generation of Millers find their way [3.6k]

Warnings: teen pregnancy (what’s new for this series lmao), arguing, language, call backs

Charlie's been acting weird for the past few weeks. She's been coming in and out of the house at strange times, not showing up for patrol, and giving you vague answers about where she's been. She's nineteen now, so she doesn't necessarily need you and Joel breathing down her neck all the time, but you still like to know where your kid is. She tells you she's been with Ellie or her boyfriend, Eric, which is fine. You like Eric. You just wish she would spend a little more time at home.

Charlie and Eric met on patrol. No matter how much you tried to dissuade her from joining the patrol team, she wouldn't listen. She had watched you guys go out and defend Jackson as she grew up and even talked to Ellie about her adventures outside the walls. She knew how to ride a horse, and Joel taught her how to handle a gun. The intention was never to "train" her for patrol but to be prepared in a worst-case situation where she needed to protect herself but the second she was old enough, she signed up. She got paired with Eric, a sweet boy her age she went to school with, for her first patrol, and that was it. They've been together ever since.

Joel was hesitant when they started dating, but you reminded him she was an adult and could make her own decisions. Eric was somehow more hesitant when Charlie invited him over for a family dinner. Eric grew up hearing stories about your family, and his dad occasionally worked patrol with Joel, but knowing him by proxy is much different than sitting across from him at the dinner table. Joel promised to be on his best behavior, but poor Eric was terrified any time Joel asked him a question. Since then, they've gotten a little closer, but they are by no means buddies. You're a little nicer.

All this runs through your head when Eric trails behind Charlie into the house. It's a Saturday, and you and Joel are off patrol, sitting next to each other on the couch. You were supposed to go see Ellie and Dina, but they rescheduled for next weekend without much explanation as to why. JJ might've gotten in trouble. At seventeen, he has more of Ellie's wild personality than anything else. It's a little fun to watch her try to handle a younger version of herself.

"Hey, can we talk?" Charlie asks, a slight tremble in her voice. You look up from your book, and Joel leans forward to drop his wood carving knife on the coffee table. She and Eric sit across from you, her leg bouncing anxiously when she does, and you glance between them. You're a little confused as to why Eric has to be here for this, but she's clinging to his hand so hard you almost worry she's gonna break it. Worry claws at the back of your throat, but you swallow it down. Whatever it is, you can handle it.

"Sure, bug," you say. "What's up?"

"Um, so there's something I've been meaning to tell you, but I wanted to get some things squared away before I did because I didn't want you guys to freak out or anything. I understand this is a really big deal, but it's under control, and we have a plan." She explains rapidly, and Joel chuckles as he removes his glasses to rub at his eye.

"You ain't pregnant, are you?" He asks, and Charlie is silent. That's when you feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. Your mouth goes dry, and you sit up, staring at her like you're waiting for her to say she's joking. "Charlotte," Joel says, his tone even and scarily calm. "You're not. Right?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she says, tears shining in her eyes. "But we… we have a plan. We're gonna get set up in a house, and Ellie's gonna lend us some of JJ's old things, and we're gonna pick up some more shifts before the baby comes. It's all gonna be okay."

You can't help but feel like you set her up for failure, not only with your own teen pregnancy but with your inability to keep her safe. In the old days, you might've been able to put her on birth control or give her condoms when she started dating, but those things aren't on the top of the list for what little FEDRA manufacturing is left. The best "safe sex" talk you could have with her is letting her know her options if she did get pregnant or sick. You hated it, but there wasn't much else you could do. And now look where you are.

"Mom, can you please say something?" Charlie begs as Eric rubs her back. You thought you'd be prepared for something like this with your and Joel's (and Ellie's) family life starting earlier than most. Instead, you find yourself, possibly for the first time ever, sympathizing with your mother. You pull yourself together enough to open your mouth.

"You wanna have this baby?" You ask, and she nods.

"We already decided. We're not gonna get married or anything yet, but yeah, we want this baby," she says. Eric doesn't say anything. You figure that's probably smart. It's only a matter of time before Joel freaks the fuck out about the fact that he got your baby girl pregnant. "That's why I went to Ellie's the other day. I was talking to her, Aunt Dina, and Uncle Jesse about when they had Jay." She says. You try not to be offended that she told Ellie before she told you. You told lots of people before you told your mom you were pregnant. Still, you thought you and Charlie were closer than you and your mom were.

You look at Joel, the same panic and anger taking over his features, and take a deep breath. He grinds his teeth as he thinks, and you have to stop yourself from scolding him. When you look back at Charlie, her face is splotchy, and her brown eyes sparkle in the mid-afternoon light. She looks so grown up but so little at the same time. Your eyes slide from hers to Eric's wide ones.

"I'm assuming you know the stories about Jane and her dad?" You ask.

"Yes, ma'am." He croaks, and you nod.

"And I'm assuming you know how Joel and I got to Jackson in the first place?"

"Mom," Charlie starts, but you catch Joel shaking his head at her in your peripheral vision. Eric swallows thickly and nods.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," you say. "If I ever hear anything about you not being there for Charlie or that baby, or if you even think about leaving them, I'll fucking kill you." You haven't had to speak this way in years, and it, obviously, rattles both Charlie and Eric. Good. You hope it does rattle him.

"Mom!" Charlie scolds, looking to Joel for help, but it's clear that he has your back with this one. You'll be damned if she ends up a single parent like you two were. She scoffs and stands, pulling Eric up with her. "You don't have to listen to this, Eric."

"Yes, he does." You say.

"Baby, what did you think we were gonna say?" Joel asks.

"That you'd support my decision or, at least, find a way to!"

"Of course, we support you. I just..." Joel trails off. "I just don't think you know what this means. How much this is gonna change your life. And I know you love each other, but havin' a baby ain't an easy thing."

"That's why we're doing it together," she says, her eyes moving from Joel's to yours. "That's why it's fucking crazy to talk to him like that. And unfair. You didn't act this way when Ellie had JJ."

"That's because we didn't need to have this same talk with them. Jesse and Dina had already decided to co-parent Jay. There was no way Dina was gonna be a single mom," you say. "But there were three of them, and it was still hard. You were just a baby when he was born, so you don't remember, but it was a lot."

"So, you don't think I can be a mom?" She asks, and you stand with your hands up in defeat.

"I didn't say that. I just want you to be prepared. I remember what it was like, and I-"

"Just because you were miserable when you had Jane doesn't mean everyone is." It's mean and calculated and hits you right where it hurts. It doesn't matter if it's the hormones or not. The sting of her words renders you silent.

"Don't you speak to your mother that way!" Joel yells. He never yells anymore, especially at Charlie. The scary boom in his voice fills the room, but you catch the glint of tears in his eyes as his breathing stutters. "This ain't just playin' house, Charlie. So, if your mama is a little worried, she's allowed to be. Shit, we're all allowed to lose our fuckin' minds for a minute, but that isn't an excuse to talk bout your family like that." He says, and she taps her shoe on the ground twice, a nervous tick she picked up from Joel.

"I'm sorry, Mom, but I can't just sit here and listen to you threaten Eric like that," she says. You nod but don't apologize. You can't find anything to say. Charlie stares at you like she's waiting for you to lash out or yell at her, but you can't. She wipes a stray tear away furiously and turns away. "I need some air," she mumbles, dragging Eric out of the house before you can even protest. The door slams behind her, and the floorboards she took her first steps on shake with the force. Joel reaches for your hand and pulls you into him. He murmurs soft assurances into your hair, his voice cracking and tears spilling from his eyes as he does, and all you can do is let him hold you.

What the fuck else are you supposed to do?

You wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of the bathroom door in the hall slamming open. You and Joel jolt upright in bed at the sudden sound (old habits die hard, right?), and you sigh as you rub your eyes. You check the alarm clock next to your bed for the time and see it's close to three. The dark mountain town is still asleep outside your window, and you grab a soft flannel from the floor to pull over your shoulders.

You don't remember falling asleep. You were up, waiting for Charlie to come home so you could talk further, but when the front door opened and closed, and she basically sprinted to her room, you couldn't find the energy for another fight. But when you laid down, you couldn't sleep either, your conversation from earlier playing on a loop in your mind. You and Joel just sat there in silence, staring up at the ceiling until your eyelids got too heavy, and you fell into a dreamless sleep. You couldn't have been asleep for over an hour or two when the bathroom door swung open. Joel looks at you, confused when you stand.

"What are you doin'?" He asks, and you wave him off.

"I know why she's up. Just go back to bed." You say without much explanation before padding down the hallway and into the bathroom.

Your footsteps are loud enough on the tile for her to hear you, so she doesn't flinch when you suddenly pull her hair away from her face and hold it out of the way. She glances at you and softens a little before retching into the toilet again. She does that for another minute or two before her stomach is finally empty, and you can safely let go of her hair. She sighs and leans against the wall as you flush the toilet and hand her a towel. You settle across from her, your back pressed against the sink, and rub her leg as she wipes her face.

"Thanks," she mumbles as she tips her head back against the wall. She looks tired and weak. All you want to do is scoop her up in your arms like she's three years old again. "I feel like shit."

"I'm sorry. That's my genetics. I was super sick with you and Jane." Her name rolls off your tongue so fast you almost forget the last time it was invoked. The air stiffens between you, and she shifts uncomfortably.

"How long were you sick for?" She asks softly. You sigh as you track your memory back and try to remember the exact details.

"About six months," you admit, and she groans. You laugh a little at her reaction, but only because you know how frustrating it is. If you could take it from her, you would. When you settle, she stares at you guiltily and starts picking at the nail bed around her thumb like she can't stand the silence. "Where did you guys go?" you ask to put her out of her misery.

"I just… needed to get out of the house. We walked around town for a while before going to his parent's house," she says. "They still don't know. We wanted to tell y'all first." You nod, unable to give words to your gratitude just yet, and she swallows thickly.

"You could've stayed," you whisper. "I wanted you to stay."

"I know," she says. "I'm sorry. For everything." She looks like she could start crying again, so you take a deep breath, scoot over to her, wrap her in your arms, and kiss her temple. You feel her relax into you, and a weight is lifted off your shoulders.

"You know your dad and I worry about you. It's not about you not being capable or not smart enough because you are plenty capable and smart. But we also know that it doesn't matter how prepared you think you are. There's nothing that can prepare you for being a parent, and that's not me trying to scare you. It's just how it is." You explain, and she nods into your neck.

"That's what Ellie said, too." She says.

"Smart kid."

"I feel like I fucked up," she pivots dramatically, but you hold on tightly and wait for her to continue. I'm right here with you, baby girl, you think. "I want to be happy because Eric seems happy, and you're supposed to be happy when you find out you're pregnant, but I'm so fucking scared." She sounds like she's on the brink of tears again, and you shush her. She sighs heavily and wipes at her face as she leans back enough to see you. "Were you scared when you found out you were pregnant?"

"Both times, I was fucking terrified. With you, it came later, though. Even though your dad and I talked about having another kid and how amazing you'd end up being, I remember going into labor and shaking cause of how scared I was." You say, and she nods.

"How did you... know you were supposed to be a mom? She asks. It's a loaded question. How does anyone ever know they're "supposed" to be a parent? You certainly didn't think you were meant for anything that important at sixteen, but you do remember why you made the decision you did.

"I, um…" you trail off, laughing. "I started having these dreams after I found out I was pregnant."

"Dreams?"

"It was pretty much the same thing over and over again for a few months. I would be going through my regular routine, but this… baby was following me around. I couldn't tell if it was a boy or a girl, but I knew it was my baby. And it came with me to school, the grocery store, work, everything, and as time passed in my dream, the bigger the baby got. They'd get more personality or start laughing, or their eyes would change colors, and I'd be so in love with them," You know you sound crazy, but that's because it was crazy. "The first few times, I woke up crying because the baby from my dreams wasn't there. I thought there was nothing worse than waking up in the morning and not having my kid there," you say. The weight of your words catches up with you, and you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from crying. "And I was right." You shake your head and take a deep breath, hyper-aware of her eyes on you.

"I had the same dreams when I got pregnant with you, except they were a little different. In all of them, you were always with Ellie and Dad— every single time. I thought you were gonna grow up and not like me as much or whatever other reason my hormones gave me for the change, but, towards the end, you started showing up alone. You were just this little light. I can't describe it exactly, but everything I did in the dream was a little more magical because you were there. Things were shiny or glittery, and you would just giggle and giggle and giggle," you say, smiling at the memory. You grab her hand and squeeze hard, looking directly into her eyes and fighting more tears. "You turned my world technicolor even before you were born, and I knew I would always do everything I could to protect you. That's why I was so hard on Eric. I know he's a good kid and nothing like Jane's dad was, but I don't want you to end up like me, kid." Charlie squeezes your hand, somehow harder than you squeeze her, and a familiar crease appears between her eyebrows.

"Mommy, if I'm half the woman you are, I'd be so fucking happy. Are you kidding me?" She says.

"Charlotte-"

"I'm serious," she cuts you off, Joel's commanding yet gentle tone seeping into her voice. "Mom, you made my lunch until I was in high school, and even when I asked you to stop, you still had one ready to go just in case I needed it. You used to take JJ and me to the park so Ellie and Aunt Dina could get some sleep, even though everyone knew that meant you didn't get any. You convinced Dad to talk to Eric because you knew I loved him and wanted him to like him..." She slows down a little bit, scanning your face before she continues. "You kept a kid alive during the Outbreak despite everything. You still buy her flowers on her birthday. You tell me about her. You let me know her," you take a shaky breath, and you can't stop the tears anymore. "You're a good mom, and I'm so lucky to have you, and I'm sorry for what I said and for getting pregnant and-"

This time, you stop her by hugging her tight and letting yourself cry. She gets emotional, too, and a very unlucky Joel finds the two of you crying on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night. Like everything, he takes it in stride and joins you two on the floor until the sun breaches over the mountains and a new day shines down.

It's hard to say things got easier after that day. Eric's parents didn't react very positively at first, and it took them most of her pregnancy to come around. Charlie goes through weeks of sickness and bed rest. They argue a lot about the future and what it should look like, but they get there in the end. The next year, the house is filled with a familiar chatter and chaos. Charlie and Eric's twins (which explains why she felt so bad), Elliot "Ellie" Beth, and April Theresa Miller-Donovan, squeal as Joel takes turns dancing with them in the living room.

Elliot is, obviously, named in honor of your Ellie, but she bears Sarah's middle name. April threw you for a loop. The twins were born in snowy January, confusing you as to why they would name her that and not January, but Charlie smiled as she handed April to you. "Jane's birthday is April 7th. I didn't want to steal your name, but I remember you taking me to the meadow to pick flowers for her. April 7th was always my favorite day." She explained, making you choke up. When she told you April's middle name, you and Joel completely lost it. Theresa, for your Tess, the woman who believed so much in Ellie, she forced you to believe in her, too. The woman who saved your life in more ways than one. The woman who would've absolutely adored Charlie if she ever met her.

You love being grandparents again— admittedly, a little older than you were the first time around. Joel teaches the girls Spanish words and lets them pull on his beard. You make extra food so your baby has something to eat after the long days and nights of keeping them alive, and you play silly games with them. They don't look like you or Joel or even Charlie or Eric. They look like their own little people. People who will never know the loss, destruction, and nights spent staring hopelessly at walls you went through. People who will grow up safe and loved and cared for. People who carry names they won't be able to put a face to.

That's okay. They don't need to know about the people you were before you were their grandparents, and maybe it's time for you to try to let that time go. Maybe, in your and Joel's old age, with the deep wrinkles and graying hair, you can just be. Maybe you can just dance in the living room and make warm blankets and fall asleep holding hands. Maybe everything does turn out okay.

#look for the light #thank you for the gorgeous request!!#joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller fic #dad!joel miller #the last of us fic #the last of us au #tlou au #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters

79 notes · View notes

ddejavvu · 1 year

Note

Would you be willing to write a pstar!Eddie Munson hurt/comfort bit. Where he finally confesses his feelings because he’s pretty sure you like him too, but his nervous smile falls because you start crying. And you say you do love him, but he doesn’t want you. Which he thinks is crazy, because Eddie’s ever the romantic, saying if you two love each other, nothing else matters. But reader thinks they may be asexual/are at least unsure about sex, and obviously that’s Eddie’s fucking career. But with a happy ending for the two of them? 🥺 sorry I hope this is okay!

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

this post is 18+, minors dni. (for dynamic purposes, this does not contain any smut).

Eddie's not understanding. He doesn't get it, he doesn't comprehend what you mean. He's sitting there, looking for all the world like a kicked puppy, insisting that he doesn't care, that it doesn't change the way he feels about you. Doesn't conflict with it.

But how could it not? He's a porn star, he makes his living jamming his dick into places you're not comfortable with him jamming it on you. And what kind of relationship would that be? He's fucking other people but he can't fuck you? You can't imagine him content with that.

"You're not understanding," Eddie urges, his hands knotted in his hair at his scalp, "I don't care. Sex isn't important, I'm not interested in you for your body. I could care less if we fucked. I- I mean, it wouldn't be a bad thing, but there's a million other things we could do instead. Like- like go on a date, read together, get breakfast, I don't care!"

"But it is important, Eddie! It's your career, it's a major part of your life! I don't think you'd be starring in pornos if you didn't like sex!"

"Yeah, okay, I like sex, it feels nice. But does a bath, and I'd still date you if you preferred showers!"

"This isn't about baths or showers, Eddie! This is about sex! Gross, sweaty, up-close-and-personal, nauseating, sticky sex!"

"I know! I know it is," Eddie stands, hands slapping his sides exasperatedly, "And I'm telling you, it's okay. You don't like sex, we don't have to have it. It- it makes you uncomfortable, I get it! And I won't ask you to. But you're acting like I'm made of it, like there's no possible way we could ever work because you're not into it. I'm telling you over and over again that I don't want to be with you to have sex with you, I want to be with you to love you. That's all I want!"

"But your job-"

"Is that. A job. Do you think that mechanics rule out a partner if they don't have a car? Do you think firemen reject ladies if they're fire-safe? My job isn't my life, and I don't need to bring it home if you don't like it. And- and if it makes you uncomfortable to be with me while that's my job, then I'll quit. I'll work at a grocery store, or something. Something with less sex."

You can't help but chuckle, even if you're trying to remain strong.

"Less sex?" You look up at him through dewy eyes, "I don't think there's any sex involved with working at the grocery store."

He grins; he knows he's won.

He sits beside you again on the bed, the mattress bouncing under his weight, "Well, I dunno. There's a lot of phallic objects in the produce section. Bananas, cucumbers, eggplants. Come to think of it, I've heard some weird things about eggs themselves, and-"

"Eddie! Gross," Your face scrunches into a grimace, but a laugh reaches his ears that eases away the last bit of despair from his chest, "You're really not doing a good job pitching sex to me."

"I'm not pitching it to you!" He insists, "It's not your thing, I'm not self-absorbed enough to think I could change that. And I don't want to. I'm agreeing with you," He takes your hand, squeezing it tight, "Sex is gross."

A moment of silence passes between you two that Eddie fills with a brush of his thumb over the back of your hand. It's noiseless, of course, but it speaks.

"Come on. Let's try a date, okay? I'll take you out to dinner, somewhere nice. And we won't get salads. I'm sure cucumber is anything but appealing to you now."

"Very," Your nose wrinkles, and he smooths the line out with his own nose. His breath fans over your face as he butts his nose into your own, and his pretty brown eyes merge into one at the close proximity. Slowly but surely, a smile grows over your face, one that makes him giddy beyond reason. When you finally nod he feels it against his face, and he has the sudden, strange urge to press your smiles together, fit them like puzzle pieces until your teeth clack.

Instead he stands, pulling you up on your own feet.

"Breakfast for dinner? There's a pancake joint ten minutes away. No eggs, though, 'promise."

302 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

you wanna talk about it?

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,874

warnings: swearing, anxiety, anxious habits (lip picking), mentions of blood, reader has family struggles to work through, insecurities (brief mention of weight/looks), vulnerability, mentions of alcohol drinking, fluff

a/n: hi! this is meant to be some holiday season comfort. i know that spending time with family can be hard, or stressful, or annoying, and i'm struggling with it, so i wanted to *hopefully* provide you with some support if you're feeling any of this!! this was very self-indulgent, but i hope that maybe you'll like it. i love you all. <333 (also please come back to this gif when you're done. i imagine this is how he's looking at you.)

————

"What's the matter?"

Billy's hand slid into yours, palm warm and audibly rough. He was sat on the couch next to you, where you hadn't realized he was paying you any attention.

Your leg was bouncing up a storm, a constant shake. On top of that, your middle finger and thumb were picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

He was sure you'd drawn blood by now, considering the way your eyes fluttered shut when you ran your tongue along the fragile skin.

You were no stranger to these feelings, shit, they'd become all you knew. And Billy wasn't either. He'd been anxious his whole life, so he knew when you were feeling that way too, no matter how much you tried to keep it to yourself.

You looked down at his hand in yours before pulling your fingers away from your lips and sitting on them. Busted.

"Just really don't wanna see them today."

"I know, baby."

He squeezed your hand.

Your home life hadn't been anything like Billy's, and while you were grateful that it hadn't been that hard, that's not to say it wasn't at all. Not to say your parents hadn't made you feel less than sometimes, hadn't listened to you, or hadn't made you feel like a burden.

Billy understood what that felt like. "Shared trauma" and all that.

Outside a few visits with Susan, mainly because he loved Max, and Max did have a present mother (even if she wasn't the best), unlike himself, that was it for Billy's "family" interactions. He didn't see Neil anymore at all. You and Max were the extent of his real family, and he liked it that way.

So when you had to see your family, your parents and aunts and uncles and all that extended bullshit, the few times you couldn't get away with—like during the holidays—he tried to be there for you. He wanted to be there for you.

Billy let go of your hand, moved away from you. You watched as he settled against the arm of the couch, stretching his legs out and spreading them wide. He held his arms aloft. "C'mere."

You did, wiggling into the space he'd left for you, back to his chest, arms resting on his thick thighs. He closed his legs a little, trapping you in his space, keeping you safe. That's how it felt when you sat like this. Like nothing bad could happen since he was right there.

Billy's chin came to rest on the top of your head, hands rubbing at your shoulders, gently messing with your hair. "You wanna talk about it? What exactly it is that's buggin' you about seeing them?"

You slid down further in his lap, and Billy wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from completely escaping him.

"It's just that...they've always got something to say. About my weight, or my hair, or what I'm wearing, or i-if i talk too loud."

That one struck a nerve for Billy. He knew that when you got excited about something, you tended to get a little louder. It was a side effect of you being happy. He loved it and it had never bothered him. Knowing that you'd been shutting those things off because of your family hurt him.

"If I don't talk enough, if I'm too quiet," you continued.

Billy hummed in acknowledgment, signaling to you to keep going. His hands rubbed at the soft skin of your tummy, kneading at the fat there, comforting you.

"And they ask me these surface level questions, you know? Like fucking small talk, like we aren't family and they don't know me. It'd just be nice to have them ask about my real life, especially when I have to listen to them blab about their endeavors all the time."

"What are you studying? How are you feeling? What are you into? Anything would be nice. I just feel like a stranger when I'm there. And half the time it's like they forget I'm even there. Sometimes I think that genuinely no one would notice if I was there or not. I really don't think it makes a difference whether or not I show."

After that, you took a deep breath, and quieted. Billy didn't say anything for a moment, processing.

"Would it be okay if I talked shit about your family for a moment?"

Billy had been around them a good bit after having been with you for so long, enough to know when they said things that upset you, to see how they interacted with each other and then with you.

Your family hadn't always been like that. So standoffish.

It was as you got older, and got to know them as people, grew into your own, that you realized they were kind of assholes sometimes.

And it felt like you didn't fit in anymore. Like maybe you hadn't turned out like they'd wanted. And even if that wasn't the case, that's how they made you feel because you were different.

Quiet. Hardworking. You had dreams and ambitions and didn't want to live in the same place forever like they had, send your kids to the same schools they'd gone to. Hell, you didn't even want children.

And you had Billy. It was the two of you against the world. This boy with long hair and an earring and a growing collection of leather accoutrements.

Billy was determined to make you feel seen as you'd done for him. And recently you were trying to open up about these feelings to your family, slowly, but surely. It was a process.

"Yeah, go ahead," you laughed a little, "I really don't mind."

You snuggled further into Billy's chest, and he squeezed you. He smelled like his woody cologne, of his shampoo, and of cinnamon from the apple pie he'd made earlier. He smelled like home.

"I really fuckin' hate that they've made you feel this way. Like you're an outcast in your own family just because you're not an asshole who likes to talk about everyone else's bullshit. I mean, last time we were there, your cousins talked out of their asses about their friends. What the hell is that about? If they don't like 'em, I really don't know why they're friends at all."

"And I hate that they talk over you, and make jokes when you're loud like the whole neighborhood can't hear them blabbing anyways."

"I just want you to know that I'm here and I see you and I love all the little things about you that they might not." He planted a kiss on your forehead, lips warm and a little chapped because of the weather.

"It kills me that you think no one would notice if you were gone. I know you mean them, obviously, but I can't do this without you, you know."

You could feel his nose rubbing across your scalp, breathing you in.

"And I'll play spoons with you tonight even if no one else wants to and it's not technically supposed to be a two person game. Though I can't promise it won't get violent."

You sat up, and he let you move until you were straddling his legs, both hands firmly settled on his cheeks. You didn't say anything for a little while, squishing his face up with your hands, making him grumpier by the minute.

Though he didn't push you off, because he secretly liked it. You stared at Billy, running the pad of your thumb over the tips of his eyelashes, through the slit in his eyebrow, over the freckles at the tops of his cheeks.

"You are very aggressive at spoons. But it's worth it to see you wrestle over one with my sister. And better when you win."

Billy's cheeks flushed pink and you giggled. He always said you were the only person who'd ever been able to fluster him so easily.

You thought about his other words for a second. "So that means you like it when I squish up your pretty face like this?" He grinned and pried a hand away from his temple to kiss your palm.

"No. I fucking hate it."

You smiled at him, admiring the way he was looking at you. "Thank you for saying all that. Also I'm going to be sincere with you if you need to take a deep breath."

You watched as he dramatically inhaled, and then you dropped your hands to his lap, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"I really appreciate that you notice all of the little things and that you support me and everything. I can't do this without you either. I love you, Billy."

He lifted your chin up to make you meet his eyes. "I love you too, Y/N."

When Billy kissed you, it wasn't urgent or rough. It was sweet, and he took his time, pressing all of his feelings and admiration for you directly against your mouth. And it took your breath away.

————

That night, your family asked questions about what you wanted to do after college, what you hoped to do. They asked the same of Billy. You blushed at the idea of him being a mechanic, of having his own shop.

You were thinking about Billy written in little red letters on a gray uniform, him having his hair tied up, when the very same boy set apple pie down in front of you. He'd been simultaneously fixing pie and talking, ever the charmer.

He clocked your flustered look, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he sat next to you.

"Proud of you. Being so strong."

You could've melted. Become one with the wooden chair beneath your ass.

Your grandmother, who you'd talked to about your feelings, and you thought maybe Billy had too, noticed when you hadn't said much and would ask you something or just talk to you.

After dessert, a cousin asked if you wanted to play spoons. It ended up being a whole group game, and unnecessarily aggressive.

At the end, it was down to you and Billy. You watched him shuffle the cards, silver rings glinting under the overhead light. He smirked at you while separating out your cards.

"Good luck, baby."

"Fuck you, Hargrove."

Billy laughed loudly, tossing his head back in glee at your competitive streak.

Table strewn with reds and blues, kings and queens, you had three sevens. Your heart was pounding as you watch not only Billy's hands, but the cards he was practically launching across the wooden surface at you. Your family watched from either side of the two of you, biting their nails or taking shots.

Queen, three, three, five, seven.

You almost screamed. You tucked the card in your hand and reached, snatching the metal spoon off of the table and slamming your cards down as you did.

You laughed maniacally. "Suck my dick, Hargrove!"

You'd never won against him before. This was groundbreaking.

Billy stood up. "You fucker. You little shit." There was no venom in his words though, as he was smiling the whole time.

He pulled you into him, smacking a kiss on your lips. "Congratulations, baby. We're going again though."

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #christmas fic #holiday fic #billy hargrove christmas fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy stranger things #savannah’s fics

545 notes · View notes

rainydaydream-gal18 · 1 year

Note

Hello! If requests are still open (if not please ignore ) May I request cute parental moments each bad batch member has with Omega with reader included? For example, Tech and Reader helping Omega with her first pilot lesson?

(The Bad Batch) Batch x Reader: Parent Moments

Author's Note: This is such an adorable request!! Thank you for dropping this in my box! I decided to do little blurbs to answer this. You are free to read each one individually as romantic xReader, or view this as a collection of platonic moments.

This got me thinking about the Bad Batch doing dad stuff, and some of that fed into this XD Will probably make a separate post about it.

Enjoy!!!

Hunter: Teaching a New Skill

"Alright, kid. You ready?" Hunter asked, arms folded as he noted the eager expression on young Omega's face. You lifted your hand to cover your lips, stifling a chuckle as she practically bounced up and down.

"I'm ready!"

"First, you've got to ease up. Tracking requires patience and focus."

"Right." Omega relaxed her shoulders. "Patience and focus."

"That's right. It's about recognizing the signs. You may not be able to pick up on all the signs I can because of my...abilities. Neither can ________, as a matter of fact." He stole a glance your way. His tone was serious, instructive, but you caught the slightest taunting glimmer in his eye as he continued. "But she learned in her own way. And her skills aren't half-bad."

You rolled your eyes playfully, kneeling down on one knee to survey the ground in front of you. "Yeah, sure." You eyed a branch from a shrub that had been bent in half, most likely stepped on by something large.

"I didn't know you knew how to track," Omega said in fascination. She tilted her head curiously as your eyes scanned the area.

"With him around-" you motioned vaguely in Hunter's direction "-we hardly need another tracker. But Hunter thought it would be a good idea to have someone else know a thing or two just in case."

"And since you were curious about it before, _______ and I thought we'd teach you what we know." Hunter shifted his stance. He looked to you again. "So, what do you see?"

"Looks like some sort of large leaf-eating mammal just came through here about an hour ago."

Hunter lifted a brow at you. "And?"

"Right. sorry. Two leaf-eating mammals. One of them is much smaller. Perhaps it's a mother and her young."

He nodded in approval at your assessment. "Good."

Omega's eyes widened in amazement. "Wow! _______! You're really good!"

"Not half-bad," Hunter repeated, his smirk growing.

"Yeah," you chuckled. "What he said. So, let's get started. Hunter, if you would?"

"Rule number one to tracking is..."

- - - - - - - - -

Wrecker: Protective

You, Wrecker, and Omega were walking through the woods of a strange planet one of Cid’s jobs had landed the Bad Batch on. Omega practically begged Hunter to give her a job on the mission. He finally agreed to let her scout ahead, but only if she took someone with. You volunteered to go, and for good measure, Hunter ended up sending Wrecker along just as a precaution. Though Tech voiced that the possibility of encountering a danger was minimal, there was no telling exactly what was out there.

“Keep an eye out, kid,” Wrecker said, though his tone suggested he wasn’t the least bit concerned. There was a certain confidence he had as the biggest and strongest member of the squad. It meant that things were less likely to want to go up against him.

“Don’t worry,” Omega replied, narrowing her eyes as she looked around her surroundings. “I’ve got my eyes peeled.”

You were both proud and amused at how seriously she was taking the task that Hunter assigned her. It was a good quality to have. She didn’t scoff or complain at even the most mundane jobs aboard the Marauder. She preferred anything to being left behind.

Suddenly, you heard the quietest snap, like a twig. You looked over at Wrecker to see he had picked up on a presence as well. Omega hadn’t quite caught on yet.

Another snap.

This time, she heard it. She looked over at you with wide eyes, and you put a finger to your lips as a sign to keep quiet. You then motioned for her to return to your side, and she started taking careful steps in your direction.

The kid was brave. She’d already faced many dangers and handled them pretty well, but in that moment, the worry was evident. She didn’t like the unknown. After some of the things you’d all faced, could you blame her?

And then the threat revealed itself.

It was a beast of some sort, something Tech had warned about in passing. He’d said that the likelihood of them attacking was very low as they were mostly nocturnal. The creature bared its sharp teeth in a fearsome snarl.

You closed the gap between you and Omega in an instant, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her behind you. The creature bounded toward the two of you huddled together, but its was stopped dead in its tracks by Wrecker, whose shoulder collided with the beast in a hard tackle to knock it away.

He drew his blaster and planted his boots in the ground, shielding you and Omega from the danger, and took aim. “Hey,” he growled. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size instead?”

The creature raked its cold eyes over you and Omega once more, most likely debating whether its prey was worth the risk of dealing with Wrecker. It lashed its tail furiously and gave another loud snarl.

Wrecker took one step closer, and it stepped back.

It finally decided to abandon the hunt. The beast turned and sauntered back into the forest, leaving the three of you alone.

Wrecker let out a hearty laugh. “Smart animal. Knew better than to tangle with me!”

A big smile spread across your face. “Thank you, Wrecker.”

“Yeah, thank you,” Omega said. She breathed a sigh of relief, the fear leaving her features and instead being replaced by wonder and admiration for her big brother. “That was amazing!”

- - - - - - - - -

Tech: Bickering

“Very good, Omega,” Tech praised the young Bad Batcher for her ability to follow his instruction. She beamed at the note of approval in his tone. “What next?”

“We take a look at the systems, make sure everything’s operational.” She squinted at the collection of warning lights flashing across the dash. Her lips formed a small frown. “There are a lot that aren’t…”

“Critical systems are,” he said, raising his index finger pointedly. “That’s what’s important.”

You couldn’t help the snicker that escaped you, swiveling your chair in a failed attempt to hide your humor from the pilot. Tech looked in your direction curiously.

“What’s so funny?” Omega asked, amusement creeping into her tone at hearing your laughter snowball.

“Oh, nothing,” you wheezed

“I believe ________ finds humor in how I maintain the Marauder.”

You clutched your stomach. “Sorry. It’s just- you’re teaching her bad habits. We really shouldn’t have so many alerts going off.”

Tech’s voice remained even. “Numerous events and projects have prevented Echo and I from doing proper maintenance.”

“Right, right. I’m sorry.”

Tech held your gaze for another few seconds while you bit your lip to try and cover another laugh. His tone was still calm, though you detected that hint of underlying sass. “I don’t suppose you’d like to assist in repairs? Seeing that it is a concern of yours?”

“I’m just saying,” you replied, internally oooohing at his passive-aggressive comment, “that under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t advise Omega to take off with that many alerts.”

“Critical systems are unaffected.”

Omega glanced between the two of you.

“I know, but-” You sighed, grumbling, “I think I will make some repairs. Where’s the toolkit?”

“Maybe Tech and I could help?” Omega spoke up helpfully. “This way, Tech could show me more about the ship, and we can get caught up with repairs.”

“Excellent idea, Omega,” Tech chimed in.

“Yeah, sounds good!” You exchanged looks with Tech, all sass forgiven and forgotten, before diving into the lesson.

- - - - - - - - -

Echo: Fashion Show

“Hey, Echo!”

He looked up from his data pad at the sound of Omega’s usual chipper greeting. You boarded the ship close behind her and waved. Both of you carried a few beaten-up bags from your trip to the market.

“Hey there,” he said with a smile. “Get anything good?”

“Yes! _______ helped me find some armor!”

“At least for now,” you chimed in. “Until we find something more suitable. The kid needed it.”

Echo nodded in agreement. “Alright, let’s see it then.”

Omega exchanged looks with you, her eyes alight with excitement, happily taking the second bag and hurrying over to her room. While she got ready, Echo turned to you. His brow furrowed in a look of confusion.

“How’d you manage this? We don’t exactly have a lot of credits to spare after that last job ended badly.”

“I have my ways.” Your tone was cryptic, but he didn’t miss the glint in your eye or the pendant that was missing from your neck.

“_______….” he began, concerned.

“Don’t worry about it,” you insisted, giving him a gentle nudge. “She needs this more. The kid comes first. Besides, you saw how excited she is.”

Just then, Omega emerged from her room, donning her new (slightly used) armor that you helped her pick out at the merchant’s table. She held out her arms to show it off as she walked over.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Echo nodded in approval. “You look like a Bad Batcher.”

He was right. The pieces of armor had been scrubbed as clean as it could, though it had its fair share of scuff marks and scratches from previous use. She looked battle-ready.

“It does look pretty cool, doesn’t it?”

You tilted your head to the side. “I’m afraid those boots might be a tad too big.”

“They’re perfect,” she insisted. “Oh! I have to show Echo the cloak!” She climbed back into her room, and you and Echo both shared a laugh.

- - - - - - - - -

Crosshair: The Pet He didn’t Want

“Look, Crosshair!” Omega beamed as she held the pup up towards the sniper. “We found a lost voorpak. Isn’t she cute?”

The pup gave a little bark and wriggled around, sticking its tongue out. Crosshair’s already stern face twisted into a look of mild disgust. “It’s ugly.” The pup looked unaffected as he turned to walk out of range, but Omega followed him, holding the voorpak even higher.

“She is going to be named Brandi. And she is adorable.”

“We could use another girl around here,” you joked, resting your hands on your hips. “Come on, Cross. Even you have to admit it’s kind of cute.”

He sat himself down on a crate and began to inspect his rifle, most likely for cleaning. “Don’t tell me we’re keeping that thing.”

“Hunter said we can look after her until we find a suitable home,” Omega replied victoriously.

“How wonderful,” he muttered.

You and Omega exchanged looks, laughing, and took the pup back toward her room so it could scurry around for a bit.

Over the next few days, the voorpak began growing on the Bad Batch. Even Hunter and Echo would smile in amusement watching Omega play with the creature. Wrecker joined in. But Crosshair preferred to keep his distance. He would roll his eyes and offer up complaints if the creature didn’t do its business outside or was in his way.

It was one afternoon that the others went out for supplies. Omega asked you to keep an eye on Brandi for a while, to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble, since you were staying behind to do a few tasks around the Marauder. Crosshair would be around, but of course, he didn’t like Brandi.

The pup followed you around the ship, barking playfully and smothering you with kisses every time you had to kneel down or crawl into a small space. It was a few hours in, and suddenly, you realized that she wasn’t at your heels.

“I’d better check on her and make sure she’s still on board!” you commented to yourself. So, you set your tools down and went looking. There weren’t too many places for her to hide, but you kept your eyes peeled just in case.

Faint yip-yip sounds coming from down the hall caught your attention. You followed it cautiously, realizing quickly that Crosshair had been down there organizing gear. You didn’t want him to be bothered by Brandi, so you hurried your pace. But when you reached the doorway, you were met with a most unexpected sight.

Crosshair was sitting on a crate, staring down at little Brandi, who was hopping around in circles. There was a small huff of air, like a brief chuckle, and Crosshair leaned down to pat the creature.

It yipped again and cuddled up against his leg. He didn’t say much, but you couldn’t get over the soft expression on his face. “You’re not all that bad,” he commented, scratching the little puff ball with legs. “I suppose.”

You felt a presence appear at your side, and you realized that the others had returned from their trip. Omega was standing next to you and peering through the doorway with a smile on her face. She didn’t look all too surprised to see him being so tender toward the voorpak pu, and neither of you had it in you to taunt. You both nodded and backed away from the doorway, pretending to have just arrived.

“Oh, there she is!” you stated. “She disappeared for a few, and I got worried.”

“There she is,” Crosshair said, standing to his feet with a sigh. He looked at Omega. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, we got side-tracked. There was a really cool snack stand!”

#the bad batch #bad batch #bad batch x reader #star wars bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #wrecker x reader #tech x reader #bad batch fanfiction #bad batch reader insert #bad batch hunter #bad batch wrecker #bad batch crosshair #bad batch tech #bad batch echo #bad batch omega #the bad batch imagine #bad batch imagine

428 notes · View notes

sage-green-matcha · 9 months

Text

MAROON - ETHAN LANDRY PT. 4🍷🥀🔪

“The mark they saw on my collarbone. The rust that grew between telephones. The lips I used to call home. So scarlet, it was maroon” - Taylor Swift

Content includes: death, blood, fluff, angst! Idk honestly, just prepare for the worst!

PT. 1 of Maroon | PT. 2 of Maroon | PT. 3 of Maroon |

You shook the nervousness off your body as you waited for Ethan. You'd went home and got ready as quickly as you could, not exactly knowing what time he would be arriving.

You played with the hem of your cardigan, leg bouncing with your mind somewhere else. You couldn't believe you were going out on a date in the middle of this whole situation. You knew it was stupid, and you were right. But you had wasted too many months of your life being scared to care now, when it actually mattered.

"You feeling okay, Y/n?" "I'm better, I guess" Sam rubbed your back in a comforting motion, in reality you knew you should've been the one comforting her. She was the one that had actually been attacked along with Tara, luckily that night you had been too busy crying in your room.

"I should be the one comforting you, none of us are going through it as bad as you are" you glanced back at her and she frowned. "I don't want anymore of you to get hurt, even if it's mentally" she ran her fingers through your hair, finding peace in the feeling of your waves between her fingers.

You heard a knock at the door and jumped up, nervous to see him. "Go, have fun and make sure he's not ghost face for us" you nodded before saying goodbye, opening the door. “Hey…” his face was crinkled in a smile, your heart slightly racing as you stood at the door. “Hi!”

☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~ ☆ ~

"Hey! The two newlyweds, come on in! We're just making some food" you smiled, Ethan's arm over your shoulder. "They're not married yet, Chad. Ethan's not good enough for Y/n" you rolled your eyes at Mindy. "She's not wrong..." you blushed, turning away from him before you became a hot mess. "See! He even agreed with me"

She went off to find Chad and Tara, disturbing their tension with more teasing. “Mindy, that is so inappropriate!" you chuckled, looking back at Ethan as he gave you a comforting smile. "Look at you, acting so sweet now" you took his chin into your hands, turning him towards you.

"I'm not acting" you fluffed his hair, turning away as Mindy called you and Sam into the kitchen. "I'll be back" you placed a kiss on his cheek, Anika's mouth open in shock. "You know, we don't have to stay here" "welp, too bad. I insist" you nodded your head. "Safety and numbers"

"This will be so fun, a little slumber party with the fantastic 5" "Fantastic 5?" Sam asked. "Did you just call us that nickname?" Tara raised an eyebrow in disgust. "I sure did, I mean we've been through a lot together, and it's a pretty cool nickname" you stared at Mindy, the both of you equally confused before you laughed. "That's debatable" you added, Tara agreeing. "It's extremely debatable"

"You can't just give yourself a nickname dingus" Mindy teased her brother, a smile on all of your faces. "Oh! Of course I can dingus, because I just did! Fantastic 5 uptop!" He held up his hand for a high-five, being rejected by all of you. "No" "down low" Tara gave him a side eye. "Get that away from me" she shook her head, hiding a smile.

"Please for the love of god Y/n!" You squirmed, Mindy warning you not to do it. "You know, I would actually like a little more respect and support from my fellow members of the fantastic 5" you all groaned, shaking your heads.

"Hey...guys, what the hell?" Anika called, all of you rushing to the living room. You wrapped around the couch, sitting down next to Ethan with your eyes glued to the screen. You watched Sams eyes as they filled with sorrow. She was the main suspect to this whole thing. It didn't make sense to you, the way people thought. She fought for her life and now she has to fight to defend it again.

The video of her attacking the girl from Halloween popped up on the Tv, all of you watching with annoyed expressions. She grabbed the remote, turning the TV off before walking back into the kitchen.

You played with the rings on your fingers, Ethan intertwining your hands before smiling down at you with a reassuring look. You listened to Tara and Sams conversation, your heart feeling guilty about all your opinions about their relationship.

“None of us can relate to what you are experiencing" it's like Tara had stolen the words right out of your mouth. You felt bad for everyone else, of course you did. But your heart ached more for Sam. You knew she did everything in her power to seem strong, but this was just taking over her in a way you'd never seen before. "It's not your fault, and I know I shouldn't care what people think...It just sucks being this hated" she wiped her tears and you couldn't help but now hate what you said about her to Ethan.

"Hey, hey just a reminder. Not a single person in this room hates you. Okay? We have all been through some fucked up shit and we're all coping with it differently" you pulled Ethan over to the table with you, sitting on his lap with his arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. "Look at Y/n! She was so miserable for the longest time till she found someone to be miserable with!" Chad teased and you rolled your eyes. "He's not wrong Sam, we all dealt with it differently, we still are" you moved your eyes back to Ethan, gently swiping away loose curls that covered his eyes.

"We moved here together for one very specific reason...we're a team" you all nodded, Sams eyes tearing up once again. "We are...the fantastic fucking 5" "thank you very much!" Chad high-fiving Mindy excitedly.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom" Ethan looked up at you, getting off his lap before sitting back down in the chair. All of you laughed, smiling as Chad bragged about the newly used nickname. "Say it" "no, I'm not gonna say it" Tara whined. "Come on Tara!" You held your head in your hands, laughing with your friends.

"Ive been sleeping with cute boy from across the hall" your mouth dropped open, "I told you! I told you" you laughed, pointing at chad. "You owe me $20!" "That was a joke!" He shook his head. "Wait you guys made a bet?" Mindy laughed, her hand slammed against the table. "Boom! We fucking knew it" Tara smiled, "I knew it, I knew it" Sam watched in confusion as you all rambled.

"We knew from the day you got that hickey" you teased. “Oh come on Y/n! Look at your neck!” You rolled your eyes. "I see you've been getting it on with my roommate and I respect that, but you will get tired of him eventually" Chads hands were up in defense as you rolled your eyes. "He's not longer a virginnn" Mindy dragged out and you blushed, covering your face.

"You need to tell us everything" Tara added with a hiccuped laugh. "Not to take any credit, but maybe I was the one that gave him some tips" you sunk down on the chair in embarrassment. "Ew Chad!" Mindy hit the back of his head.

"I feel like...we should high five or something" Tara smiled. "The fantastic 5 high five, please" Chad put his hand up and you all intertwined your fingers. "Come on, come on" you smiled. It was a mutual feeling between all of you, that no matter what happened you would all make it out alive, together.

Sam pulled away, a call coming from her phone. "Ah! Look" Tara snatched her phone out of her hand, holding it up high was Danny, aka cute boys contact number. You tossed it around the table, handing it to Mindy with another laugh. "No no no!" Sam shook her head, a poor attempt to get back her phone. "No, Tara no" "hey, soo what are your intentions with my sister?" She joked, Sam taking back the phone before hanging up. "Oh it's fine, I'll call him back later" she grinned, stuffing her phone back in her pocket.

You heard groans coming from the bathroom, your eyebrow cocked as Chad looked at you confused. "You send him a nude while we weren't watching or something?" "What? No" you shook your head, the familiar sound of Ethan's moans filled not only just your ears, but everyone else's too.

"You liar! Or he probably sneaked one while you were fucked out" Mindy winked. "Explains why he's been taking so long in there" Sam added and you rolled your eyes, embarrassed once again. You all heard a chime from your phones, digging into your pocket to be met with a picture.

Your heart dropped once you saw the full image. The sounds weren't from him getting off to you, but instead it was the sounds of his struggling to fight off ghost face. "Ethan...Ethan!" you got out of the chair quickly, everyone running behind you before Chad pulled you back. "Wait! Wait" you could hear his blood curdling screams throughout the whole apartment, pleading and glass breaking as he cried. "No, no no let me go" Chad held you back as you took heavy breaths, Ethan's struggle finally stopping. Tears flooded your eyes, your cries being the only thing heard before it went quiet.

Everyone stood back, heavy breathing with a mix of fear and anticipation as everyone waited. You watched the door through tears, covering your mouth trying to stop. "Run" Ethan's dead corpse pushed Anika down, your eyes bleeding with tears as you watched him collapse on top of her. "Ethan! Ethan!" you ran over to him, Mindy rolling his body off of Anika. He was covered in blood. There was no way he was alive anymore. You felt your heart shatter inside your body, his deep brown eyes with no life left in them.

"Guys come on!" Tara and chad ran out the door. You held onto his arms, tears falling onto his bloody shirt. "Fuck..fucking kill me" you hiccuped, wiping your tears to see the figure of Ghost Face. "God fuck!" Mindy yelped in pain as he sliced her arm, Sam pulling you away again, before you also got stabbed. "Mindy! Jesus Christ" as much as you tried to stop them, tears continued to fall, blurring your vision.

Anika grabbed him by the legs, Ghost face only responding by gripping her neck tightly. You and Sam ran towards the kitchen, looking for any knives you could find. Someone had taken all of them. "Seriously!?" You screamed, taking a stack of glass plates while Sam grabbed the knife block with no other choice.

When you rushed back into the living room Anika was held up against the wall, the knife plunging deep into her stomach and a scream escaping her mouth. The knife dug inside her, twisting and turning before you came up behind him, smashing the plates onto his head. You felt nauseous, triggered by the bloody mess on her stomach.

He got up surprisingly quickly, Sam leading Anika into the bedroom while you pushed Mindy in, ghost face just seconds away from slicing your arm. "Fuck, fuck!" Sam struggled to hold the door close, the clothed figure pounding himself into the door repeatedly.

You could hear Tara's faint screams from outside the apartment, ripping off your cardigan and tightly tying it around Mindys deep wound. You heard the banging stop, your hands applying pressure to Anika's stomach as she continued to bleed out. "Y/n, bathroom door! Hurry" sam whispered, you ran over and closed the door, Ghost Face right in your view once again. "Shit!" You pushed the door shut anyways, blindly directed stabs from the knife trying to hurt you.

You ran backwards, slamming the door to the bathroom shut. You struggled to lock it, blood covered hands making you slip as kicks were shot into the door. You held it shut with your body, Mindy now helping Sam push her dresser in front of the door. You pulled it into you, struggling but you managed. Ghost face just kicking through the door as you pushed the dresser against the wall. All you felt was anxiety, the horrible rush. You could only think about saving yourself and your friends.

You backed away from the dresser, untying Anika's blouse and holding her stomach, she cursed as you tied the wound, hands and arms covered in blood. "Hey!" You replaced Sam as she ran towards the window. You held the dresser back with all your power, feeling ghost face become tired as the kicks got weaker, or so you'd thought.

He pushed his whole body into it, you and Mindy jolting at the sudden movement. "Don't worry! I got you" you silently prayed as you pushed with all your energy, glancing back at Sam and Anika. You watched as Sam pulled in a ladder, your head falling back and your breath short. "You three go first! Mindy, go" "What? No" she shook her head as you pushed back against the dresser, you held it with all your force, trying the best that you could to not get tired. emotionally you were more than exhausted, you could feel yourself start to give up. god, you were losing all hope. But you had survived once and you knew you could do it again.

"We need to hold the door! I'll send Anika next just go!" You looked back at Mindy, tears in both of your eyes as the nobs from the dresser slammed into your skin. "Come on! Come on!" you heard Sam and Danny call out. "Help her on, i got this" "are you sure?" Mindy cried and you nodded. in reality you weren't sure at all. you were strong, but still a bit on the weaker side.

She rushed over, taking Anika into her arms and placing her on the ladder. "Don't Look down Baby, keep going. You got this, keep going" you pushed back the bloody dresser against the knob of the door, your breath unsteady as you almost gave out, pushing it harder with each kick and slam. Its like you were fighting with pure force itself, doing your best to push back with the same amount of power.

Sam words encouraged you as you kept pushing, Anika making it across safely. Your heart was beating faster than it had ever before. Closing your eyes as you talked to yourself, using your back to hold the dresser. Your legs started to give out, Ghost face knife waving around as he slipped his arm in, trying to slice you. "Y/n! Come on Y/n hurry!" You gave the dresser one more shove, the door slamming into ghost faces arm, making him drop the knife. You grabbed it quickly before running towards the window, letting the knife drop below you. blood splattered onto your top, looking down below at the long drop.

The sound of the dresser falling down made you shake as you crawled onto the ladder, Mindy and Sam holding out their arms for you to take. "Y/n...Y/n hurry!" You sobbed as you looked down, the feeling of the ladder started to shake making you sick. Ghost face was taunting you, shaking the ladder roughly as you crossed. "Shit" you cussed as you almost let go.

"Please y/n, please come on" you held onto the steps, the ladder shaking more and more and you persisted, Sam and Mindy dragging you into the apartment.

"We made it, we made it" you sobbed, watching as ghost face walked away from the window. "Fuck! Fuck, Anika" you laid her down on the floor, tying the fabric around her tighter. "Not bad Y/n" she cried and you couldn't help but smile, shaking your head.

"Ethan...what about Ethan?" You stood up, running towards the door. "Y/n, Y/n no come back" Sam followed behind you as loud sirens were heard in the background. You ran back to the apartment, swinging the half shut door open, running over to Ethan, his eyes still opened as he laid there. "E...Ethan don't do this to me" you pulled him into your lap, sobbing into his his arm as you grabbed his hand. He was still warm.

The cuts on his shirt proved he was stabbed more than just a couple times, blood covering his entire chest. You moved away the curls from his face, your thumb gently rubbing his jaw like you had done earlier that day. You placed a small kiss on his lips, finger running over his features for one last time. His body was limp, wet from blood and your tears that sprinkled over his skin. you wanted to take him in, for the last time. all you felt was pain. You weren't hurt, there wasn't even one scar on you. But this hurt more than any wound you had experienced.

"Y/n...y/n we have to go, they have to mark the crime scene" you shook your head as you cried, Ethan's limp hand in yours while the other brushed through his curls. You didn't know you'd end up like this, getting close to someone just for them to get killed. you felt so extra, so dramatic. But no one could blame you. finally, you decided to open up. But it ended in disaster.

"Y/n, please step out of the apartment" you looked up, Officer Bailey and his team entering as they started to mark the crime scene. You felt so dehumanized. You weren't even aloud to sit there and hold him. He was basically pried away from you, from everyone.

"I'm so sorry" your whisper was just barely heard, tracing his lips one last time before placing his head gently back on the ground. Sam pulled you away as she walked you out of the apartment. "Here" she handed you Ethan's Jacket, pulling you into a hug.

"They're taking Anika and Mindy to the hospital" she sighed. "Where's Chad and Tara?" You wiped away your tears but it was no use, more falling than before. "Sam! Sam!" Tara ran into Sams arms, the reminder that you were always alone amongst them flashing right in your face. You finally had someone, and just like that, he was dead.

A/n: i'm crying my poor bb

116 notes · View notes

qcomicsy · 1 year

Text

Yo THIS is what I'm talking about new interpretations of Deadpool treating him like a fucking bugs bunny character. Deadpool doesn't just bounce back as if nothing happens, he doesn't "not feel the pain ad lacerations" and he sure as fuck doesn't just stand back watching people fuck with him.

And even more that that? He's not fucking stupid.

Listen I have my problems with the Deadpool (2008) run but this shit compared with the rest he had this last ten years of writing is fucking exasperating.

It doesn't matter how hot or famous, or heroic the person is. Wade does not like being like lied to and he doesn't fucking tolerate being toyed either. Specially after all the shit he's been through.

So tell me, why the fuck, now characters can just walk all over him and the only thing he does is make a bad reference? I'm so sick of this, so, so sick. He's a fucking human being.

Flesh and bone and feelings. And it's so fucking disrespectful after all those years of characterization and shit he's been through, writer's decided to fucking disregard all that that just to make their shitty jokes, that' aren't even funny.

Not only is a from a horrible taste, it doesn't make any goddamn sense. He's a mercenary and a good one, like scarily good. And it's so weird to me how out of nowhere people's just decided he's not dangerous anymore and instead of just being chill around him, this just took as an advantage to treat him like shit. And this is even more maddening when you realize (bad writing or not) he's fucking trying to be better.

I like this part of the run of 2008. Because it's just make sense, of course! The X-Men hates Deadpool. He was literally a guy who was paid to kill them who knows how many times, he's annoying, bitchy and has no respect for any of them, not even mentioning the weird relationship he has with Scott's son and how crossed them more times than the dignity of the whole team should bare. Deadpool had it coming the hate he got from the X-men, hell, and this was them being patient.

Now, even with them hating Wade, the X-Men was being extremely careful. That's the fucking mercenary Deadpool, you don't just give him shit and act like nothing happened. They're annoyed, angry, and hostile and yet not out of the line.

And even so

And I'm not saying I want him to be violent (even though he is still violent but now is just for 'hahaha isn't he craaaazyyy??? 🤪🤪' jokes). Wade has been at war with his violent tendencies since ever and I'm happy too see him kinda overcoming that over the years.

But fucking hell the last issues are fucking pushing it.

I mean what is this?

Look at this shit:

And then he just????

???????

Yeah Sure guys yall just fucking opened my guts up, but now let's just patch up and talk like palls because apparently my nervous system doesn't fucking work.

LOOK AT THIS FUCKIN BULLSHIT

"Hey Jessica" Bitch where's your backbone?

That's Jessica Jones they're not even friends!

This is how Wade reacted to Domino, his actual friend trying to fuck him over.

Like what the fuck happened to him? It's like they don't even consider him fucking human, he dies but doesn't deal with the after match, he has his guts exploded but whatever what is pain? He's going to shook of with a silly joke 🤪, he has no friends, he doesn't get offended, he doesn't get angry, he just there to suck the heroes dick and act like a lost puppy.

I'm fucking done man.

TDLR: Marvel took my man's balls and I want them back

#Deadpool #q rants #q talks comics #I'm legit upset about that holy shit akskksdk #I forgot how pissed off I was about it until I got back into reading him #long post

145 notes · View notes

missvifdor · 1 year

Text

LADY LESSO X F!READER EVER.

THEME: A LITTLE SUGGESTIVE BUT NOTHING SPECIFICALLY SPICY. (I THINK I CANNOT WRITE A SMUT EVEN IF I TRY).

THIS HAPPENS BEFORE THE UNIFICATION OF SCHOOLS.

!!!!ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRT LANGUAGE!!!!

(Inspired by Lady Lesso from the movie, not the books.)

I was inspired but I don't know if it's perfectly written or if Leonora is 100% faithful to her character. If not, I'm sorry, I did my best.

Enjoy everyone !

____________________________

Reader was not used to crossing the bridge between the two schools as often as she would have liked because other than for professional reasons, she had no right to set foot in the school of Evil. She was an Ever after all, what would interest her in that dark and gloomy castle?

Well, maybe the object of all his thoughts and lusts. The Dean of Evil herself.

And can we really blame her for falling in love with the redhead with a wicked sense of humor? This woman was the epitome of everything that would drive Reader madly in love in minutes and more.

However, if she went to the object of her desires, it was not to sigh like a rookie princess enamored in front of an Everboy practicing swordsmanship. She had passed the age.

No, if she was walking through the dark and cold halls of the School of Evil while ignoring the suspicious glances and growls of the werewolves it was to go to Lady Lesso's office to talk to her of a student Never whom she would like to help improve in the subject she teaches so that he does not fall behind his classmates (and thus save him the suffering of failing in class a third time and suffering the painful consequences).

Regardless of what anyone might have said about Reader, if there was one thing everyone agreed on was the fact that despite her status as Ever, she was fair and impartial with all of her students no matter what school to which they had been sent. Everyone deserved a chance to be fully prepared for their fairy tale win. Lady Lesso liked his work ethic, it was something she had half-confessed to her after making sure that Reader didn't come to teach his classes at the School of Evil to help Good win.

From this little compliment was born a kind of friendship or perhaps an understanding if we wanted to be more fair. They got along well and Reader would take anything she wanted to give to her.

She was no longer a naive young girl, she knew the Dean of Evil's personal opinion on the Ever/Never relationship. And a "friendship" was the best she could have of the beautiful redhead.

Sighing sadly at the thought, Reader finally arrived at Lady Lesso's office door. She knew she was there because no sound came from the Doom Room to echo down the dusty hallways.

She distinctly knocked on the old dark oak door and waited for permission to enter the room.

_Come in...

Reader grimaced. Just from the tone of Lesso's voice, she knew the redhead was in a terrible mood. Nevertheless, she mustered up her courage and walked into the office.

Even at the sound of the door opening and the intrusion into her office, Lesso didn't immediately look up from the papers she was correcting, a deep frown and the corner of her beautiful lips twitched.

No, not in a good mood at all.

Despite her feelings for the Dean, Reader wiped her sweaty hands on her skirt in nervousness.

The bad mood of the beautiful woman with the cane was never to be taken lightly, especially if we became the object of her displeasure.

Finally, Lesso looked up to stare at the intruder.

_Well, what is our professor Ever doing here? At this hour, students are certainly not motivated to be taught by anyone.

_I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, Lesso, but I thought you'd like to chat about...

Although bored, Lady Lesso patiently listened to Reader explain the reason for her visit. She even gave stiff nods at times, occasionally bouncing her fluffy curly hair.

_...That's why I would like your permission. By creating something more suitable for him, I'm sure he would do better in my class.

The beautiful redhead was going to answer before grimaced with a hiss of pain. Reader immediately frowned in concern.

_Is your leg acting up again? Reader asks shyly.

_It's the fault of this bloody weather! Lesso growls. Every goddamn rainy day is the same.

Although many thought the Dean of Evil carried a cane for style and bullied her students with it, in truth it was because she limped in her left leg. She was good at hiding it, but when it rained on a night like this, Lesso's leg was incredibly sore. Reader had discovered it one day by chance but never broached the subject with the woman for whom she had feelings.

What had happened to Lesso's leg was none of her business and she wasn't sure the redhead really liked telling anyone about it.

_Is there anything I can do to help? You know I come from a reality where medicine is a bit more advanced than here, maybe I can find something to ease the pain?

Reader wasn't even sure what had prompted her to offer her help at the risk of being nastily sent to get lost. She was sure that was exactly what the taller woman was going to do.

_You can always try, Pet, but I'm sure there's nothing you can do about it.

Reader couldn't help but blush at the nickname.

Lesso had taken to calling her by that kind of sweet name lately to get fun reactions from her. Apparently it still amused her, especially for her flustered before a lesson with the Nevers when Reader went to the School of Evil to teach.

Despite the red and the heat filling his cheeks, Reader shrugged and came from the side of the office where the dean of evil was sitting. She crossed the woman's bright green eyes but quickly turned away before becoming red like a tomato and knelt in front of Lesso's legs.

She plunged her gaze into that of the redhead to ask gently and respectfully:

_Can I pull up the sleeve of your pants to see your leg, please ?

Lesso just nodded, never taking his eyes off Reader.

For some reason that made Reader nervous, Lesso stared at her more intently than usual. Gently pushing up the left trouser leg, Reader thought she understood where the Dean of Evil's discomfort with her leg came from.

On his knee, resembling a mark left by lightning, was an ancient pink scar. Reader studied her and touched as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt the woman any more than she already was.

Ignoring the redhead to focus on the scar, Reader didn't notice the slight shivers, deep breaths and more intense eyes that her touch gave Lesso. Her scar was quite tender and the other woman's touch on it felt fucking good despite the pain.

Not to mention seeing the pretty Ever kneeling in front of her like that was an exquisite sight.

Finally, Reader looked up at the redhead and she had to use all of her self-control to hide her reaction to his touch.

_I think I know how to help. It won't completely take the pain away, but it will numb it enough to be more bearable during changing weather.

Lesso looked at her with a bit of surprise, she really didn't think it would be possible to do anything.

_Can I touch your scar again so I can magically heal it?

_Do what you have to do, Love.

Reader bit his lip at the nickname and returned his full attention to Lesso's knee. Her head was spinning slightly from the warmth of her face.

Resting her hand on the scar while activating her magic, Reader gave the Dean's skin her softest touch. And the effects were instantaneous.

Lesso threw his head back with an indescribable sigh of relief! She even grabbed Reader's shoulder with one of her elegant hands and lightly dug her silver fingernails there.

_Fuck, Lesso groaned happily with his eyes tightly closed.

Reader's breath was taken away and her throat dried up as if a sandstorm had buried alive her. Lesso was going to be his untimely death. She was gorgeous.

Finally, the redhead opened her eyes slowly. It was as if the pain had been replaced by an annoying but incredibly more bearable tingling. Lesso gave Professor Ever her most mischievous yet sincere smile.

_I owe you a favor, Sweetheart. Ask me something and I'll do my best to give it to you.

Reader could have fainted! The woman she's in love with is now leaning over her with a silver-nailed hand languidly stroking her cheek and Lesso's pleasant, musky scent completely overwhelms her senses.

She found herself speechless.

The redhead raised an eyebrow.

_Well well, did the cat take your tongue or do I have to find her myself?

Reader wanted to scream and say "Yes, please!" but she was still speechless and in shock at the sinful vision the redhead had given her.

Lesso squinted with a more intense look but becoming slightly worried. Had she gone too far? She loved teasing Reader, obviously noticing his crush on her but she didn't want to hurt her feelings. She had also started to like her a lot too.

Not knowing if it was courage or suicide, Reader regained the ability to speak:

_I... A date. I-if you're okay with that, of course! Hastily add Reader. You don't have to force yourself to do anything for me just for a favor or to please me, Lesso !

The Dean of Evil was surprised, she didn't think her pretty Ever had the courage to make such a request. The redhead kept a completely neutral face, enjoying seeing Reader squirm and panic under her gaze.

Finally Lesso added lightly:

_Okay, having a date, Pet. But I warn you right away, there is nothing charming or romantic about Evil.

#Lady Lesso #lady lesso x reader #Leonora Lesso #leonora lesso x reader #lady lesso imagine #sge netflix #school for good and evil

197 notes · View notes

silverynight · 4 months

Text

The werewolf chronicles

<---Previous

Part III

Shoyo is definitely competitive, but he's usually reasonable, except when he's trying to defeat Kageyama; it's kinda fun to compete against him.

It actually doesn't matter if it's volleyball or not, they're always trying to prove who's better. So when the team starts running in order to exercise a little, both of them turn it into a competition and forget about the others.

However, it usually surprises Shoyo when he notices that Kageyama tries not to use his werewolf abilities in order to defeat the orange haired human; he's usually trying to compete against him like any other human would.

Which is kinda nice, although it's not like Shoyo is going to admit it out loud.

That particular morning their obsession with competing takes to Shiratorizawa. And that's how they meet the intimidating captain of the team.

Of course he's a werewolf too and a very tall one. Kageyama recognizes him first actually.

"That's Ushijima." He grumbles, looking upset already. "A prime alpha."

Shoyo would like to remind Kageyama that his werewolf terms mean nothing to him because he doesn't know anything about them. But he knows that whatever "prime alpha" means, it makes Kageyama feel irritated.

"Is that something good or bad?"

"It's... good," the young setter admits like the word hurts him. It must be something really good then because Kageyama sucks at complimenting other people.

Right before arriving at the school, Ushijima notices them and stops before turning to face them.

"Are you an omega?"

Kageyama growls even though he's not the one Ushijima is talking to; he's looking down at Shoyo with a curious expression on his face.

Sometimes it makes him feel ashamed to admit he doesn't know a lot about werewolves because he's part of a team of them, but when he tried to learn about it, Sugawara gave him a book and that's when Shoyo lost interest, if he's being honest.

He tilts his head to the side and wonders if it's an insult or not, but decides that it mustn't since he has also heard Sawamura talk about omegas often.

"I'm not a werewolf," he finally says.

"You smell like an omega," Ushijima comments and Shoyo considers yet again if he's being insulted or not. "I like your scent."

The human is even more confused now, but he doesn't say anything to that because Kageyama is getting more and more irritated.

"We're from Karasuno!" He blurts out instead, to which Ushijima narrows his eyes.

"Concrete," he utters the word and now Shoyo knows they're being insulted.

"Are you pouting?"

"I'm scowling!" Shoyo frowns, glaring at Kageyama.

"That's what you call a scowl?"

"Are you on my side or not?"

He's not sure why Ushijima invites them inside, but they walk in Shiratorizawa, marveling at every single thing they see. When they reach the gym; Shoyo gets excited at the sound of sport shoes making contact with the floor and the ball bouncing back and forth.

When someone hits the ball and accidentally is propelled through the door, Shoyo rushes towards it at the same time as Ushijima and jumps so high he manages to catch it before Shiratorizawa's captain does.

"I'm Hinata Shoyo, from concrete," he says as he hands the ball back. "And I'm going to defeat you."

Instead of getting angry, Ushijima smiles, just a little bit, and leans forward. He takes the ball in one hand and uses the other to take Shoyo's wrist; he would be worried if it wasn't because the grip is actually very gentle.

He knows Ushijima is not trying to hurt him. However, he certainly doesn't understand what's going on or why Kageyama looks like he's about to start punching Shiratorizawa's captain. Shoyo hopes he doesn't because they'll get in trouble if he does.

His cheeks turn slightly pink when he feels Ushijima's thumb drawing a few circles on his wrist, right over his pulse.

"Oi, he was already scented!" Kageyama hisses, pulling Shoyo away from the other werewolf.

"I know he has a pack, but he doesn't have a mate yet, I can tell," Ushijima retorts, narrowing his eyes at the setter.

Ugh. Mate. Another word Shoyo doesn't understand.

"Give me your answer after the match, Hinata Shoyo."

"Okay," he blurts out, even though he has no idea what Shiratorizawa's captain is talking about. Besides, he doesn't even have the time to ask anyway because Kageyama is already carrying him over his shoulder and running away from the other werewolf.

Another weird day.

***

Fortunately, his teammates decide to explain everything to him.

Kageyama doesn't even have to say anything because as soon as he leaves Shoyo back in their own gym, the whole Karasuno team surrounds him.

Sawamura takes his arm and glares at Shoyo's wrist; he has no idea what he's exactly staring at because the human can't see anything at all.

"Who was it?" Sugawara asks.

"Ushijima," Kageyama growls the name like the other werewolf is his archenemy or something.

"Can someone tell me what's going on?" Shoyo pouts and this time he's aware he's doing that.

"Ushijima wants to fu–" Tsukishina gets abruptly interrupted when Yamaguchi covers his mouth.

"He means Ushijima wants to court you."

"Court?"

Sugawara rolls his eyes at Shoyo's confused expression.

"He wants to go on dates with you."

"Oh," Shoyo blurts out because he doesn't know what to say. He's sure he's completely red. No one has ever been interested in him before. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Sawamura nods, although he doesn't look happy about it. "He left a bit of his scent on your wrist. It's how it's done among werewolves. Although I do think you're too young for that."

"What was your answer?" Yamaguchi asks, genuinely curious.

"He said I could give him an answer after our match."

"And what are you going to tell him?" Kageyama asks. He looks so pissed, although Shoyo is not sure why.

"I don't know," he mumbles sincerely. The whole werewolf thing is very confusing for him. He needs to think about it for a couple of days at least, he doesn't even know how he feels.

"Tch!" Kageyama hisses and turns around to start practicing on his own.

He stops talking to Shoyo after that, even though he still tosses the ball to him. Shoyo is not sure why he's so mad out of the sudden. Sugawara tells him to give Kageyama some space for now.

***

Next---->

Patreon

#haikyuu #kageyama tobio #hinata shouyou #kagehina #ushijima wakatoshi #werewolf au

15 notes · View notes

bloodanddiscoballs · 1 year

Text

Alright I said I was gonna make a sappy post for my 30th birthday so here it goes!:

I never thought I would live to see 30. I know that many people say that, and I'm sure that sentiment isn't unique on here. Here's the thing; I'm disabled. I have almost died due to my health 3 times since 2011 and indeed did once before being brought back. My immune system is nonexistent, and my chronic pain has me at currently 6 reconstructive back surgeries and round the clock pain medication.

When I was 17 years old, I became a victim of medical malpractice and had my entire life changed in an instant. Didn't get to go off to college, didn't get to work normally, didn't get to move out - didn't, didn't, didn't. For years, I was told that I would heal. That I would be fine. I was young! Young people don't get sick. I'll bounce back. Just be patient. But I didn't get better, I got worse. And every year older was another year into my 20s where I wasn't able to do "the normal stuff." I never finished college, but I did get some classes done. I would work for a few months before needing to quit. I got married and then divorced. All "failures" due to my health.

At 27, I went to see my therapist and sat down and told her that I couldn't see into my future. I remember telling her, "Every day is hell. I can't do this for another 10 years. I've barely made it through this last 10. I don't even know if I can do it for another 3." I was at the end of my rope, convinced that I wouldn't make it. My back was crumbling underneath me again, and insurance was fighting me tooth and nail to be approved for another surgery. I was bedridden. I was on the highest medication load I've taken, and it wasn't even touching my pain. I wasn't connected to anything - not my art, not friends, not the world around me. I was looking very seriously at my options of what I thought was either suffering or dying.

So, she suggested a mindfulness program. It was a 6-week course at UCSD (University of California San Diego) that taught you how to. essentially, live in the moment. At first, I thought it was honestly the stupidest thing I'd ever heard. I'll admit that I was sour on it, but I said I would try it and I paid for the class so I did it. I sat through the meditations, wrote on the topics they gave, went through the exercises they instructed, and did the full day retreat. And at the end of those 6 weeks, I was alive again. I learned to savor every bite of my food. I learned how to pay attention to the sun on my skin. I learned to enjoy how it felt to have my air move in and out of my lungs. I learned how to look in the mirror and love what I saw and dress myself in what made me happy (this is when I started with the disco clothes). The warm feel of skin, the taste of my favorite soda, the beautiful way my cat purrs, the glorious smell of rain, the lovely way dust looks illuminated by the sun - I learned how to Live.

My life is still hard. My pain has not improved. I did get that surgery, so now my back is thankfully more stable than it's ever been. I know that I probably won't live a very long time compared to most, but none of that makes me sad anymore, not really. I have my bad days, and I have my good days, and no matter what, I live in the moment. I feel my emotions and let them have their space within me before letting them flow. And after over a decade of not touching my art because I felt like it was robbed from me, I paint now. I paint for myself, and I paint for others, and by God, I enjoy every second of it. I feed the little barn cats out in the back of where I live now, and I love them. I enjoy the sound of the wind through the oak trees, and I listen to my music, and I take pictures of the bugs. I watch the clouds race by when it's about to storm, and I talk to the flowers that grow outside my fence. I love my bed for holding me on my bad days and love that I have pretty artwork from friends hanging on my walls to comfort me when I can't leave my room. I dress up in my fun disco stuff whenever I can, and on the days I can't, I enjoy my soft, comfy pj's. I talk to my friends online every day and apologize for the days I can't when my pain makes it too hard to think. I play fun video games and watch good movies and enjoy fun podcasts. I Live.

Today, I am 30 years old. I have lived through what should have killed me many times over. And I am so, so happy I am here. And for however long I have, I will continue to live in the moment, enjoying the days and moments I can and allowing the bad to simply be bad. I plan for tomorrow because that is all I can plan for.

I live, and that is enough.

#not sure how to tag this #hope i guess #also you can reblog this of you want #i dont mind

49 notes · View notes

knightinink · 9 months

Note

What do you think about Damien and Pip becoming parents?

Oh this is a sweet one, & one I've thought about for a little bit while I create that sweet married Dip content. Let's dive into a little about the newest addition to the Thorn family!

-They would both be extremely nervous at first, both doubting their skills & abilities in being a parent, & whether or not they had what it takes. Since neither of them had the best upbringing, they're not sure what a "good parent" should be like. How they would raise their child, what if the child didn't like them, what if because they were bad parents their kid would never speak to them again & would put them in a home to die alone, but they can't die so would they just be floating in purgatory with the guilt that they were bad parents haunting them for the rest of eternity???

-...Pip would eventually rationalize that, just because they hadn't had the best parents, they knew what they didn't have, & what they would have wanted as a child, so they start there. (This is even before they have the child, they're just worrying at what could go wrong. This won't be the first time they worry).

-Now, they could go about having the child one of two ways: 1: Adoption. Because Pip spent the majority of his youth in & out of foster homes & potential adoptive families that never worked out, I think that if he had the chance to get a child out of that system the earlier he could the better. Damien had also seen how a childhood like that could affect someone, & just because Pip kept an optimistic outlook on things, didn't mean that was the truth for every kid. If they were able to give someone a better life, then by golly were they going to try their damndest. They wouldn't care about age, race, gender, anything like that; they would love their kid no matter what. 2: A Surrogate Mother. Now if they wanted their kid to be biologically related to at least one of them, they would go through with a surrogate. I like the idea that the first child of the antichrist is identical to him, so Damien would probably be the first. They would be very particular about finding a good surrogate & go through a lengthy process, until they finally find a female demon who is fair-skinned & pale, has black hair & red eyes. If they had any more, they would take turns, & would always look for a surrogate that matches the physical similarities of the other (i.e. Damien goes, they find a blond hair, blue eyed woman, & if Pip goes, they find a pale noirette, red eyed woman).

-Once they have their kid (I'm gonna say a baby since that's what's been in my head when thinking about this), Damien is the more unsure one, & makes an effort to avoid taking care of the baby alone. He comes off as being an asshole & inconsiderate, leaving Pip to take care of the child on his own, until he & Damien get into a fight about it. Emotions are high & words are said, & both Pip & the baby are left crying while Damien storms off, letting a few angry tears slip out. Night rolls around & Damien still hasn't returned, & Pip still hasn't got the baby to quiet down. He's exhausted everything he can think of, & is left sitting in the nursery's rocker, defeated, tear tracks trailing down his cheeks & holding a sobbing child. When Damien does come home, it's around 3 in the morning, & he's immediately concerned when he hears his distressed child the second he opens the door.

-He comes into the nursery to the sad sight before him, & just stands in the doorway for a moment. Pip hasn't noticed him yet, but the baby certainly has; Pip's gone numb at this point, only staring at the floor as he continues to absentmindedly rock. The change in his baby's cries get his attention, & he finally notices the figure of his husband in the door when the baby starts wriggling in his lap to get free. The baby's reaching for Damien, & the demon wordlessly walks over takes ahold of the child, & tucks them in the crook of his elbow while lightly bouncing them, shushing them quietly & soothingly. To an exhausted Pip's surprise, the baby slowly starts quieting down until they've fallen asleep in Damien's arms. Pip has gone back to staring at the floor.

-Gently, Damien lowers the baby into their crib before kneeling in front of Pip. "Just let me talk. You don't have to listen, but you deserve an explanation. I love you, so much, & I'm sorry. Let's continue this in the bedroom."

-They sit on their bed across from each other, & Damien starts talking. He's not been taking care of the baby because he's terrified that he's gonna do something wrong or hurt them. He feels like he doesn't know what he's doing & that Pip's a much more qualified parent, & their child deserves only the best, despite how bad he wants to be there for his kid & how much he loves them. They talk a bit more & Damien's surprised when Pip tells him that he feels like that everyday, but that's a part of parenthood, & he keeps on pushing. They're willing to work together & promises to ask the other for help when they're feeling unsure about anything. They're in this together, & they will work through anything life throws at them.

-I mentioned in this post how I think they would soothe their child back to sleep & I just think it's adorable <3

-They would both love their kid(s) very much & would be there for them, but not overbearing (after taking some parenting lessons when they're unsure).

-I like to think that their first kid is an exact copy of Damien, voice & all, but with Pip's temperament, throwing both of them for a hilarious loop at first. They would eventually have another, which is basically a female version of Pip, with Damien's temperament. All of their kids would have demonic abilities like Damien.

Woo, I got a little carried away with this one, but it was really fun to write about! I think they would make great parents, if they ever decided to have kids.

#pip pirrup #damien thorn #sp dip #pip x damien #south park headcanons #south park #my askbox

35 notes · View notes

booasaur · 2 months

Note

Hi I know and have seen that you are making sure to keep people aware of what is going on in Israel and Palestine, and I just wanted to say thank you, it is easy to encounter a situation in which people feel that there is nothing more they can do, so they just ignore it and push it to the back of their mind to feel better. So I just wanted to thank you keeping in upfront and evident. 1/2

2/2 I just wanted to share with you and the others this trailer I found. Vanessa Hudgens, Zac Braff and Evelyne Brochu in a love triangle that doesn't seem super toxic. I can see where it's going to go but small steps and all that. French girl Official Trailer on youtube

Ah, thank you. It just feels there should be SO much more of an outcry and if people are quiet because they don't know enough or if they think the situation is too complicated then I can at least show objectively terrible things to cut through that. Because children shouldn't be killed. Journalists, hospitals, civilians shouldn't be attacked. There's no justification to starve a population. No matter how little people know of the situation, no matter what the narrative is from our government and media, those things are true. The best option for the Israeli hostages is a ceasefire and both Israel and the US have concluded Hamas will continue to exist after this, so there's literally no reason this violence should be continuing even if you think catastrophic levels of collateral loss are acceptable for October 7th (which... you shouldn't).

I'm also hoping I can convey just how dark and vicious this all has been and how it's contributing to creating generational levels of trauma and hate. The racism and disregard for brown lives needed to allow this are so apparent and so present in the West, it's really shifting whole worldviews. It isn't only seeing these atrocities, it's the West's support and tacit allowance that's really shaken people. Americans especially who want to ignore it should be ashamed already, but they should be more active if only out of self-preservation, it's going to bounce back, one way or another.

Okay, subject change.

Lol, when I first skimmed your second ask, I misread that as Zac Efron and was like, well him and Vanessa Hudgens in a movie, of course that's going to be the winning couple! But Braff, oh.

So I went and watched the trailer (after first wondering what a toxic love triangle is, exactly) and it feels like a very small step indeed!

youtube

It seems very similar to the '90s and '00s romcoms, you got your hapless Relatable loser of a lead with his perfect gf and then suddenly her perfect ex but of course hapless Relatable loser "wins" because the gf loves him, dammit.

I know various romcoms have done that, but I feel like at least a few storylines, movies and TV, have had the ex be a woman?

I suppose it's not inherently bad to be so old-fashioned or have the woman lose the love triangle but it's just... you know. The framing and predictability and going this particular way, it feels as if the whole movie is going to be the ex being better, him being jealous over it, and the gf reassuring him over it.

But that's just the trailer, and who knows, maybe they'll subvert it. I did laugh at these comments:

#replies #femslash related stuff #Anonymous #sent on 20240216 #french girl

16 notes · View notes

masterwords · 1 year

Text

sunk deep in the night

Summary: Hank is colicky, Savannah needs to sleep, and Hotch is happy to help get the baby to sleep so Derek can take a break too.

Pairings: Derek/Savannah

Warnings: none that I can think of

Notes: Inspired by an ask about Derek realizing that he has people he can trust in the team. I'm sure this isn't what you had in mind, and I do have another more case-related thing in store for you as well but this one just captured my heart and I had to make it happen. I've been very very obsessed with Hotch & Morgan & babies lately. I don't know why. This is like...completely unedited. I wrote it while my family was watching a football game so if it's bad I'm sorry.

Words: 2.1k

“Baby, go to sleep, I got this.”

“You haven't slept a night all week,” Savannah replied around a jaw-cracking yawn. She couldn't seem to stay awake longer than an hour or two lately, her body just wasn't bouncing back as quickly as she would like. No matter how hard she tried to push through, she hit that wall. One minute standing up and doing the dishes, the next minute the inside of her thighs was burning and her lower back began to ache and she had to sit down...after that, she was done. Sitting always led to sleeping, which led to Derek being on baby duty nearly all day and all night long.

He said he didn't mind. And she believed him. He was so sincere and he did everything with such a genuine love that there was nothing not to believe.

“I'll be okay. You wake up in the morning, I'll sneak in an hour or two. Promise. Now getcha sleep, girl. I didn't just push a baby outta my hooha.”

She leveled a soft glare at him and rolled her eyes. “I didn't either, Derek.”

“Yeah, well, you know what I mean. Sleep woman.”

He was exhausted, though. His eyes burned, his head felt like it was full of cotton balls and sometimes he walked around like he was drunk on nothing but air. Savannah called him on it, forced him to lie down with her on more than one occasion before he collapsed. They would put Hank in the bed with them for a while, until one of them got too stressed out and then he would go into the bassinet right beside the bed...neither of them slept much. Derek less. Every shift of the blankets, every sleepy little baby whimper and his eyes were open and he was waiting for the cry.

Only tonight, Hank hadn't stopped crying for hours. His diaper was dry, he was well-fed, he was burped...he was just crying. Savannah gave it the name colic and and no matter how she assured him that it wasn't a big deal, that it would suck but it would eventually pass...he hated it because he couldn't do anything but guess at how to help his son.

At 11pm, after what seemed like endless nights of screaming and wandering through the house. Holding the baby close to his chest, bouncing him lightly while he wore a path around and around, past Clooney's sleeping body always in the way, staying clear of their bedroom door. It was raining, but the sound outside was a distraction, so they stood on the back deck and stared out over the soppy backyard, listened to raindrops hitting leaves and splatting against the roof.

“Take a drive,” his mom said sometime around midnight. “That always calmed Desiree. Your dad would put her in the back of the car late at night and take her around the block a few times while I got some sleep.”

He left Savannah a note, tucked it beneath her phone on the nightstand and made for the car. Honestly, he would try just about anything. With a coffee in hand, quickly heated up from the mug Savannah had thrown in the fridge when she couldn't finish it earlier, he hit the road. First around the block, and Hank kept crying, but just before he was ready to give up...there was a brief spell of quiet. He hadn't even recognized it for that at first, it was so otherworldly. And then there were whimpers, sniffles, then coos...and then silence. He was three blocks from home, and something inside of him said not to turn around, just keep going. Just keep going. So he did. He drove. Hit the wide empty highway, twinkling rainbow lights from buildings splattered like paint over the melting black asphalt. His eyes were so tired he could barely keep them open.

A stop for coffee at McDonald's woke the beast, and there were the hectic screams again. This time worse, probably because he didn't want to be woken up. The shrieks sounded panicked and pierced his ears.

“Heyyyy, heyyyyy...I'm sorry, your highness...” he said, throwing the car into drive with a hot coffee already pressed to his lips, scalding his tongue. Driving, he hoped, would return him to that peaceful sleepy place.

No such luck. Hank screamed and screamed until he found himself pulling over just to pull the kid out and hold him, hoping maybe that would help. It took him a full minute to realize he'd pulled over within view of Quantico. Right there, his old home. And an old familiar light was burning on the top floor, corner.

It was hardly even conscious thought when he pulled out his phone and dialed Hotch's number.

“Morgan?” Hotch asked, his voice deep and groggy.

“Hey, man. You uh...” he paused, suddenly flush with shame. Was he really standing outside of Quantico, outside of doors he used to be able to walk through every single day, asking to be let in because he couldn't handle a newborn? He was the man of the house at ten years old, and he'd handled his sisters and his mom and making dinner, he'd survived Carl Buford and his cabin. He'd gone through the police academy, SWAT training, the FBI academy, law school, marched into battle on the football field...but this tiny baby in his arms was undoing him. “You mind if I come up? I need some help.”

He'd always been able to handle things on his own, and he'd always found it hard to ask for help when he was drowning. Hotch and the team showed him that he could, he could ask for help and they'd give it no questions asked. They'd never let him down, but it had taken years for him to trust that implicitly. And yet...he still wavered. He still wondered if he would take too much, ask for more than he should. And he left the team...he walked away from them. What right did he have coming back now, weeks later, like he hadn't turned his back?

But Hotch appeared in the glass, pushing the door open, beckoning him inside. There was a security guard, he could just have called down and had them give Derek a visitor's pass, he didn't have to come all the way down himself.

“What can I do for you?”

Derek thought about the night he told Hotch he was leaving. About what happened before even that. About crying out to Savannah to call Hotch call Hotch call Hotch. Trust. That's what trust looks like, that's what it feels like. No fear lacing those words. He was afraid for his life, but not all afraid that Hotch wouldn't charge the gates of Hell to drag him back. That Hotch wouldn't jump headfirst into the river Styx, fight the devil himself...

“Thanks, man,” he said while Hank screeched in his ear and he didn't have to explain it, Hotch knew. He held the door open to Derek, nodded to the security guard, and stepped into the waiting elevator without a word. “This is late, even for you. Why are you still here?”

Hotch sighed and punched in the button, leaning into the wall for support. “We just got back from a case about an hour ago. I had a little too much coffee on the jet I'm afraid, so I figured I should use it to my benefit and get a head start on the reports.”

“Messy?”

Hotch nodded solemnly. “You could say that.”

Hank's cried echoed in the tiny elevator, increasing briefly when it jumped and started rising, and then dying off as he stared around. The strange feeling of movement seemed to momentarily lull him. Stopping, walking into the BAU, he picked right up where he left off.

“Colic?” Hotch asked quietly, leading Derek up the stairs to his office. The BAU was dark, only the light from his lamp spilled out to guide their way.

“That's what Savannah calls it.”

“Jack was colicky, it made for a lot of challenging nights. Haley bore the brunt of them, but I helped when I was able.” Hotch paused, chewing the inside of his cheek a moment while he watched Hank squirm and cry in Derek's arms. “I could have helped more.”

Derek wouldn't argue with that, but he wasn't here to shame Hotch for being an absent father. The man's life was a cautionary tale. “May I?” Hotch asked, extending his arms to Derek who didn't hesitate to pass the baby to his boss. No. Not boss. Friend. To his friend.

“My mom told me that driving would help, and it did for a while...but then I stopped for a damn coffee, and it woke him up. He's been yelling at me ever since.”

Hotch's eyes met Derek's for a second before fluttering low, looking at Hank who went quiet. Staring up at this new person holding him. “You remember me?” he whispered with a small smile. “I remember you. Your hand was barely big enough to hold my finger and now look at you...”

Derek sat on the couch, leaden and exhausted. It was even less comfortable than he remembered. He'd seated himself here so many times over the years, long long years. Coming in to visit, to talk official business, to complain and to vent. When Hotch first inherited the office, he wanted to get rid of it. The couch smelled funny, like cigarette smoke and moth balls. But Derek had gone and gotten himself hurt on a case, and instead of going home he fell asleep on the couch while Hotch worked and something about that moment...see a need fill a need...compelled him to keep the raggedy old thing. He had it all but fumigated, until it smelled only faintly like thirty years of good old boy cigarettes and whiskey, and there it remained. He ran his hands along the almost pilled velvet surface and watched as Hotch rounded his desk and sat down, Hank cradled happily in one arm. The baby was still complaining but quietly now, little grunts and grumbles, not unlike the man who held him. Hotch cradled Hank against his right side, a pen poised over his paperwork with his left, and every now and then he would look down at Hank whose eyes were wide and as focused as they could be on the strange man holding him.

“What the hell is this?” Derek asked, leaning back into the cushion, completely beat. Hotch smiled and shrugged.

“Babies feed on our panic. If you're worked up, he's worked up. Haley told me that once.”

“You do this with Jack?”

“No. I tried, but I could never manage to calm myself down enough to make sense of it.”

“Well, you're doing a hell of a job now...he hasn't been awake and quiet this long in...I don't know man.”

Hotch just smiled, glancing up at Derek and then back to his papers.

“Thank you, Hotch.”

Nodding, Hotch smiled. “My pleasure.”

Derek knew, without a doubt, that what he said was the truth. It was his pleasure. He could tell that something about holding Hank was helping Hotch, too. The case, he could imagine, had been rough. Usually Hotch didn't flinch, would just say it was fine, but tonight he admitted it was messy. Messy, for Hotch, usually meant that it cut him deeply. And maybe if they'd gotten home earlier, he would have gone home, spent time with Jack and Jessica, but getting home so late he was alone.

Maybe they both needed this, Derek thought as his eyes drifted shut. He couldn't help that part; he hadn't slept in days. Not really. But Hotch wouldn't mind, not really. Hotch was engrossed in his paperwork, Hank was falling asleep to the sound of Hotch's slow heartbeat, and Derek didn't need anything to help him fall asleep except this blissful silence. The white noise, the hum of the air vents and the swishy sounds of cars driving in the rain and an occasional frustrated hum or scratch of the pen or flip of paper.

Derek slept until his phone buzzed and it was Savannah's tired voice on the end of the line. Until she asked him where he was and when he'd be home because the house was too quiet. When he explained where he was and she told him never mind, just stay, and tell Hotch she said hi and thank you and she was going to order his favorite coffee from Seattle in bulk because he must have had some kind of magic about him. She couldn't thank him enough, and even if Derek insisted that Hotch would never feel like this small act warranted such a gift she insisted.

Trust. Derek smiled, curling back up on the couch after asking if Hotch minded, if he'd just wake him when he needed to head home...trust. He trusted Hotch with his life, and with his wife's life, and now with his son's. The first time he fell asleep on this couch he'd just barely started to tiptoe around the first of those things, and now he couldn't imagine his life without the comfort inherent in all of them.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #savannah morgan #hank morgan #criminal minds #fanfiction

19 notes · View notes

srslyspiderman · 10 months

Text

mk so i had this FREAKY dream about Webster(spidersona) and Miguel. but the thing is Webster and Miles are pretty similar in comparison since Webster is just me.. and im similar to Miles,, so... yeah!! so im thinking.. how about i take this as an opportunity to right a freaky ass fic or smth based off that? well ur opinion doesn't matter bc HERE WE GO!!! In 1st person bc it's the only way I can write. :')

— — — woah, the mans a vamp?! — — —

I had always wanted to be apart of the Spider-Society, I always loved the idea of being.. "official" and that place was my one-way ticket to that. Being an "official Spider-Man".. what a dream! I was on my way to Miguel's office-like place and honestly the walk wasn't so bad, I had already gotten my own watch.. well wristband; this way I wouldn't glitch out and die or.. something like that! Once I got there he was lowering himself down on a platform of some sort but he didn't say a word, it was pure silence the entire time.. I had to break it, I had to say SOMETHING.

"So..how's it going big guy? You're awfully quiet," I started, he didn't have anything to say he was just tapping on some holograms doing some lame junk that I couldn't care for so I continued talking "I was thinking... I could be apart of the Spider-Society! I'm pretty helpful in my universe and I think I could be preeeettttyy useful here too!" I don't remember what I said after but I just couldn't stop blabbing at the mouth and I'm sure he said something but I couldnt hear him over how excited I was, I was so lost in my own words I hadn't heard a single word he said to me. He talks to low anyway so..not my fault! However, I guess that made him think I was ignoring him.. which didn't make him the happiest of people. Before I knew it he lunged at me and was pressing me against a wall, he arm pressing against my throat.

"COULD YOU STOP TALKING? YOU'RE VOICE IS SO SICKENING TO LISTEN TO. YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?" his fangs retracted which honestly scared me, but IM SPIDERMAN. I'd be okay and bounce back up again, those dumb fangs couldn't possibly do a numher on me. Either way.. he couldn't hurt someone who's important, right?

"Hey man, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings I just thought maybe I could help-" He didn't like the fact I kept mentioning helping him, I could tell by the way he was just.. LOOKING at me. Like he wanted to kill me.

"Look kid, I don't need your help. I don't need any of the spider-people here but I can't wipe them all out because people all across the multiverse would drop like flies. Trust me, if I could I would've done it a while ago." Honestly I thought he was playing the role of a tough guy so I wanted to lighten the mood.

"Come onnn, why so sour? You and me could be a team! Check this out; Miguel O'Hairy-Legs and his amazingly charming side-kick, Webster! I could be like your kid, it'd-" He lifted me up into the air for just a moment and slammed me down onto the ground. I think I felt the floor break underneath me. I let out a groan and looked up at him.

"You aren't MY kid. You're just a random kid who just so happened to get some fucking powers, and you'll NEVER be anything more than that. A KID IN A SPIDER COSTUME. A FANBOY PLAYING DRESS-UP." I could see the spit coming out of his mouth, it was disgusting but it was all I could focus on with the amount of pain that was flowing through me from when he slammed me down. "Look, you're gonna go back home and live your life. And you won't be seeing anyone again, no Hobie. No Gwen. Not even Miles. You got it?"

"psh, who's gonna stop me? You're too busy cooped up in your office doing your lame work. You're just like a dad but.. without a k-" I think that's what really got to him, well, I know that's what got to him since before I could even finish my sentence I felt a sharp pain in my neck. My eyes widened as I lifted my hand up slowly but I felt a grip tighten around my wrist and lower it down with force. Miguel wasn't infront of me anymore.. he was to my side, biting down on my neck. The room was quiet like before, the silence that was so unbarable to sit through returned it also seemed to be dimming around me as I tried to push him off me but it didn't matter at that point, my entire body weakened and then everything just went black.

BOOM THE END 😱😱

#spiderman #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spidersona #spiderverse oc #spiderverse #fandom #fanfic #spiderverse fanfic

8 notes · View notes

kickis-conan-king · 1 year

Text

Keith was resigned.

It wasn’t a bad thing but it was becoming an increasingly inconvenient thing. Keith kind of liked it- he’d never had a crush on someone like this before and it felt like the first normal, age appropriate milestone he had had. However, he knew it was something he had to get rid of. It was way too distracting, and he had to focus.

Focus, Keith.

He breathed out slowly through his nose and tried to ignore the devastating way that Lance was taking out training droids. He did not watch the way Lance’s shirt rippled over his stomach as he raised his rifle, did not follow the trace of Lance’s tongue as he licked sweat off his upper lip, and absolutely did not feel his stomach swoop as Lance dropped seven droids in a matter of moments.

“...and then that should be it. What do you think, Keith?” Shiro asked, turning to Keith from where he had been talking to him for the last couple minutes. “Sound like a plan?”

Keith startled and tried to remember what Shiro had been saying.

“Uh, well…” Keith licked his lips to try to bring some moisture into his dry mouth. “Yes?”

Shiro’s face dropped. “You weren’t listening at all.”

“Unfortunately.” Keith said with an apologetic grimace.

Shiro sighed. “Whatever. I just wanted your input on some of the hand to hand combat drills I have planned but if you're too busy..”

Shiro’s tone was one Keith knew all too well. It was dry as an aged white wine.

Keith rolled his eyes.

“As if you really need my input.”

Shiro nodded amicably. “True. I don’t need it.” He chuckled as Keith frowned, then continued.”But I do want it. You have a natural ability for hand to hand and can often see something where I can’t. Speaking of which..”

Shiro leaned in conspiratorially, a twinkle of knowing that Keith disliked in his eye. “What were you staring at?”

Keith sputtered and felt his face go red. His eyes slid away from Shiro’s just to land back on Lance, where he was smiling a goofy, triumphant grin and prancing in front of Pidge and Hunk.

“No one!” Keith said, too quick. Shiro was smarter than that, and Keith wanted to slap his palm over his face as soon as the words left his mouth.

“I didn’t ask whooo.” Shiro sang teasingly.

“Please drop it, Shiro.” Keith was just going to look at the ceiling. He swallowed. His face was burning and his hands were suddenly wet with sweat.

“Okay, sure thing, kiddo.” Shiro nodded. “Dropping it.”

Then, with the kind of dangerous smile that has only ever been worn by a sibling up to no good, Shiro turned away. He stood a little straighter, suddenly a commander again, and barked out words that made Keith’s heart simultaneously rise into his throat and drop to his knees.

“Pair up everyone! Lance, you’re with Keith. Pidge, with Allura. Hunk you’re with me. Hand to Hand. We are going to practice grappling. The first one pinned for a 3 count is a rotten egg.”

Keith groaned. Shiro turned around and sent him a sly wink.

“I hate you.” Keith hissed at him.

Shiro couldn’t respond because Lance was already bounding over to Keith. He stopped in front of Keith with an open- mouthed grin, an eyebrow raised mockingly. He bounced from one foot to another like an MMA fighter before a match.

“Oh, I am sooo kicking your ass on this one, mullet head.” Lance rolled his shoulders, sure and cocky.

Damn, Keith liked him so much.

“Alright, yeah.” Keith matched his energy, feeling himself get drawn into the familiar back and forth. “Go ahead and give it a try, string bean.”

Just like Keith knew he would, Lance squawked in affront at the offense to his appearance.

“Okay now you’re really gonna get it.” Lance said, his smile bouncing away on his face even as he raised his fists to punch the air in front of Keith.

“I’m shaking in my boots.” Keith sneered back.

"You're underestimating me, Keithy baby." Lance's grin was sharp and Keith's guts were thrilling over the use of 'baby'. "But I'm a middle child and you don't know the meaning of 'grapple' until you've been fighting for your life between an 11 year old and a 17 year old trying to claim the tv remote."

Keith scoffed just for the delight of doing so. His ears were burning. He was enjoying this too much. He felt like everyone could see it if they looked at him. He felt simultaneously embarrassed and self satisfied. He tried to keep it off of his face, but looking into Lance's challenging, sparking eyes, Keith could feel his own grin tugging his mouth into something fanged and thirsty.

He pushed Lance's shoulders. "Grapple me then, tough guy."

Lance's eyebrow quirked and an exciting spike of fear raised Keith's blood. Was Lance picking up what he was putting down?

"Ready for me?" Lance said, advancing a step and raising his arms.

"Always am." Keith said proudly, and then the two of them were clashing.

Of course Shiro would make them grapple. What better way to torture Keith in a way he can't protest against? Curse his observant bastard brother.

Lance's arms were strong and tan. Watching Lance's forearms flex while trying to keep Keith in a hold was making him warmer than the actual exercise.

Lance wasn't kidding about being good at grappling, either. His limbs were long and he was flexible and he was strong. It was one thing to know Lance was strong- Keith obviously knew he was, they were soldiers for Christ's sake- but it was a completely different thing to experience it. Keith was getting manhandled and he tried not to find it hot.

Keith dug in his heels to give as good as he got. He bucked and evaded and twisted his body out of Lance's grasp. The problem was that their bodies always remained close, heat trapped between them, sweat making their skin slick. Keith could feel Lance's heartbeat pounding against his back as Lance held him in a headlock. Keith tried to arc his body away, but he just ended up curving his spine so that his hips aligned snugly with Lance's. Lance grunted softly against Keith's ear and Keith panicked.

Keith's butt was practically rubbing against Lance's crotch. Keith could almost feel it. His body flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and desire. He needed to get out of this position, now, before his body reacted in a way he would regret. He was already in a heightened state from all the closeness and panting and fighting-not-fighting.

Keith thrashed a little desperately, his face heating. Lance's arms were so firm around him he barely had the space to maneuver, but he managed to toss back his head and with a sickening crack! the back of his skull met Lance's nose.

Lance staggered back and fell, holding a hand to his face. Keith wheeled around and dropped to his knees next to him, watching blood well up between his fingers.

"Shit, Lance." Keith said, forgetting about the match and his own embarrassment. He reached his hands out. "Are you alright?"

Lance levelled him with a glare. Their faces were so close that Keith could see the flecks of brown, like amber islands, that dotted Lance's ocean irises.

Keith got lost in them.

Then, lightning quick, Lance tackled him. He straddled Keith so he was pressed between the cool metal of the training room floor and the fever-heat of another body. His hands were pinned above his head and he could feel Lance's blood around his wrist, slippery and warm, from where it had puddled in Lance's palm. Above him, Lance's nose was dripping, streaking his lips and his chin bright red.

He was still smiling.

"One…" Lance whispered. Keith felt a speckling of blood spray off his lips and land on his cheeks as Lance spoke.

Keith gave a feeble attempt at kicking out. Lance leaned all his weight on him. Keith felt completely compromised. He fit perfectly between Lance's thighs, and Lance wasn't letting gravity do the work of holding him down- he was pressing forward into Keith with the kind of single mindedness that came out in him during battle.

"Two…" He sang, opening his mouth so Keith could almost see his back teeth.

Keith tried writhing away, his fight-or-flight triggered by the intensity of the moment. Lance was far too close. Keith's heart was pounding. He was aroused and agitated all in one and he wanted to bite Lance and kiss him and laugh and scream.

"Three!" Lance crowed, victorious. Lance sat back so all his weight was put on Keith's pelvis. He crossed his arms and chanted mockingly. "You're a rotten egg, you're a rotten egg!"

"Lance!" Keith shouted. "That wasn't fair!"

"Why not?" Lance pouted. "You're the one who hurt me!"

Keith groaned because what could he say? Sorry, Lance, foul play due to being too goddamn sexy? Lance would literally incinerate him on the spot and never let him live it down.

So instead Keith just seethed on the ground in a puddle of his own shame, waiting for everyone else to go. Eventually Shiro came to pull him to his feet. He held out a hand.

"Okay, I admit." Shiro said sympathetically. " I wasn't expecting you to be that gay. Sorry, Keith."

Keith just moaned in dismay and let his brother pull him to his feet.

#literally just something I had started in my drafts #100% sure this was going to be a 5+1 fic #but i don’t remember #where I was going with it #klance #whipped Keith #badass Lance #this is literally just a Drabble if Keith being thirsty #keith kogane #lance mcclain #Shiro also just being like. haha gay boy.#my fic

14 notes · View notes