#and i wouldn't survive having to deal with it one more evening

[emeraldborealis]

Grotesque

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x FEM!reader

TW//CW: DARK FIC, stalking, vibes of somnophilia ish, sexual harassment, nonconsensual touching, threats, mention of cannibalism but no cannibalism, threatened necrophilia, a creep calls reader a whore, murder, graphic depictions of gore, blood, shock induced mania, talk of human taxidermy, no use of y/n. Dead dove do not eat. YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

Words: 4,641

A/N: Now you may be wondering, Emerald, what the actual hell is this? Well, I wanted to know if I could still write dark fics. And I thought it was time to remind everyone this started as a horror writing blog.

STOP! Have you heeded the warnings on this fic?

People say something special happens when you fall in love, that suddenly everything else doesn't matter. That there's a warmth and gentleness that grows inside of you towards the other person.

But not for Ghost.

Ghost doesn't deal in warm gentleness. Simon did, but Simon is dead and buried in Mexico.

When Ghost saw you he did feel something sudden, an urge to keep everyone else away from you, an urge to protect, an urge to keep and shepherd. 

So he did.

From a distance he kept his eye on you, watched you go through your days, completely unsuspecting. Or so he thought.

You knew he was there, you knew from day one. Knowing he was there was more of a comfort than a fear, so when the sound of your front door opening in the middle of the night came to your ears you were more than content to pretend you were still asleep.

Keeping your breathing even and deep, keeping your expression neutral, letting nothing tip him off to the fact you were awake was a skill you learned in your youth, one you needed to survive the house you grew up in.

You were lonely, and you were alright with him taking advantage of that. You wanted him in your life because there was nothing else in your life. A phantom, a ghost willing to watch over you. Something that stayed in the dark, content with silent control.

His footsteps were light coming down the hall, almost silent, if you weren't listening for him you wouldn't have heard him. You wondered how many times he'd come and you hadn't woken up.

Hearing him pause in the hallway you imagined him looking at your photos, committing them all to memory, each one of their locations and if they were perfectly level or not. You knew he'd take in every detail before moving on, he just seemed like the type.

Your door used to make noise when it opened, but a month back it suddenly stopped. A reminder of his silent presence ever lingering, you often wondered if he'd fixed other things for the convenience of his watching, of his sneaking.

Nothing was allowed to jeopardize his stalking, nothing was allowed to tip you off to his presence. Nothing was allowed to give you evidence to stop him.

Listening, you heard him move silently through your room, coming to stand beside your bed, your acting was imperceivable, especially when you weren't looking for it.

You didn't react when the soft feeling of a gloved hand trailed over your face, the glove was rough, but he used it gently, kept his touch featherlight, barely even there.

His hand went from your face down your exposed arm, feeling the lovely skin of your appendage sticking out of the blankets for the sake of regulating your body temperature. The feeling nearly made gooseflesh blossom on your skin, nearly made you shudder. Do sleeping people shudder? Looking into that could be good for future visits from your stalker.

You felt his figure lean over you, breathing you in like a bad habit, when he was satisfied he moved from your side of the bed to the other side. Gently, he laid himself down, stiff as a board laying on his back, staring at the ceiling. You were familiar with this routine by now.

He laid like a corpse, his hands clasped together over his chest. He never did more than this, never touched, never hurt. He just laid beside you for a few hours before leaving just as silently as he came, always making sure to whisper 'sweet dreams' to you before leaving hours before your alarm for work would blare into your room.

Every once and a while you would dare to put your arm over him, sometimes he moved your arm gently off of him, sometimes he let it stay.

Sometimes he watches you sleep, either facing you in bed or sitting in your desk chair.

You wished you understood him, understood why he does the things he does. Wish you understood why he didn't do certain things.

He really was a ghost, your Ghost. A mystery you weren't sure you'd ever figure out.

Rolling onto your back you flopped your arm on him, not holding him, just touching him, testing him. He didn't remove your arm this night, he let it stay, resting right above where his hands were.

You had no clue what he looked like, not really. The few times you dared a peak he was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it. But you'd grown familiar with how he breathed, the rise and fall of his large chest. That was what mattered to you, not his face. Not who he was under the skull.

Feeling him beside you didn't feel wrong, it didn't feel nauseating or dangerous. He had the capability to do harm, but he'd never left any indication that was his intention. He just seemed interested in watching you live your life. Why? You didn't know.

Sometimes you thought about what would happen if he decided to have malicious intent, how far he might go. What he might do. He was a strange man stalking you, and you were letting him. 

You were just asking to be an episode on a true crime podcast, solved or unsolved? What would it be? You suspected unsolved, even if you lived.

If he killed you how would he do it? It was interesting to think about. Would he hack you into pieces? String you apart, pull at your nervous system. Dissect you like a frog. Maybe he'd fillet you, hang you up and eat you. Or perhaps he'd take it slower, break your ankles and watch you starve to death helpless on the floor, he did like to watch you.

If he hurt you, if he touched you, he'd want to watch you as he did it. He'd want to see your face as it contorted into pain.

Really at the end of the day he was a man, no different from any other, you were risking just as much being around him as any other man. At least you believed if he witnessed another man trying to attack you he'd intervene, protect his territory.

His belongings.

Did he see himself as your keeper? Or more like a guard dog? What were his intentions here? Why was he this little shadow in your life? It seemed like he was always there, a force that lingered around you.

Your Ghost, something that was becoming a more common name for him in your mind. It seemed fitting.

To say you weren't attached to him would be a lie, he's grown on you, something consistent, something you could make yourself believe was there to be good for you. You were becoming just as infatuated with him as he seemed to be with you.

You were comfortable falling asleep beside him, letting him stay as long as he wanted before leaving. He always locked the door on his way out, after all, he was the only one allowed to creep into your home.

Shifting in bed you got more comfortable, you needed to let yourself fall back asleep if you wanted to be able to function well at work tomorrow. Your Ghost paid no mind to your shifting, he's watched you sleep in actuality and faking it enough to believe he'll never get caught. Not knowing he already has been.

At some point in the night you vaguely feel the bed shift, faintly hear his deep voice whisper something in your ear, and his soft footsteps as he leaves.

In the morning there was no trace of him, nothing tipping you off to the fact he was ever even there, nothing but your memory.

You dreaded your arrival at work, dreaded seeing him. 

Brian.

A creep in HR, you would have reported him by now but he was who you would file those reports to. You didn't know who else to file a report to, nothing was serious enough for police intervention. 

At least there was no evidence serious enough for police intervention.

Sometimes you hoped your Ghost knew about him, that he was watching your back, though you doubted he watched you at work. Still, the thought of him handling this was not unwelcome. You took a strange comfort in it actually.

Brian was not welcome in your life, he was pushy, touchy, didn't understand boundaries. Something about him gave you the heebie-jeebies, like he was doing all sorts of nefarious things to you in his mind, planning them out, waiting to execute them.

You hated how he watched you, he was doing more than just undressing you with his eyes. Something about the way he looked at you made you feel like he wanted to do more to your skin than just molest it. Do more than possess and sink under your surface.

He looked to covet. Your Ghost looked to encroach and observe.

You liked how your Ghost watched you, like a guard dog willing to be sicked on anyone, to be your defense, to get them off of you, to keep them away from you.

"Come on, doll. When are you going to agree to come over? Let me pour you a drink, I promise I can mix you up something you'll like. Or at least let me drive you home sometime, there's no need to take the train when it's raining. Don't want you catching a cold." Brian cooed to you, walking with you as you made your way to the elevator, he always waited for you.

You'd only step into the elevator with him when it was crowded, otherwise you'd wait, make an excuse and talk to the lady at the front desk until you saw someone you knew would go up to your floor or above.

You refused to be alone with him. Not even for a second.

"I don't drink. And I like the rain." You shot him down, trying to step around him, but his arm caught your waist, stopping you.

"Okay, how about we watch a movie? Play a game?" He gave your waist a squeeze, testing your patience. He was a persistent man who believed he would get what he wanted. You wondered how many times he had. How many girls came before you.

"I'm not interested." Spinning out of his hold you continued walking towards the elevator, a good group of people already waiting.

"Come on, doll. I'll make it worth your time." He trailed after you.

You didn't like the thought that he had access to your address, that he might know where you lived, that all he'd have to do to figure it out is look at your personal records.

"I have a boyfriend. We're serious, he stays the night almost every night. I'm not interested." A small lie, laced with truth, you did have a man who stays the night. Your Ghost. You needed him to know you weren't alone at night.

There was a warning light in your brain that was starting to predict something. Something was coming. How does the quote go? 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes.'

Something was coming, something you were not sure how to stop. You were in terrible danger, you could feel it in the way his hands defiled you with their touch. Scorching and burning with how atrocious it was.

"That's alright, I just want to spend time with you. Nothing serious." Everyday he grew more bold. A predator closing in on their prey.

You were not going to be a boiled frog, you knew when this started, and you know the temperature is rising to dangerous peaks.

How many girls has he done this to?

How many.

"I don't think my boyfriend would like that, he's protective." Joining the others waiting on the elevator you watched the floor indicator, nearly holding your breath waiting for it to reach ground level.

"Protective? I'm no danger." Leaning in closer he whispered in your ear, careful now that you were surrounded by people. No witnesses. No one else could hear his persistence, it might one day arise suspicion.

"I like to spend time with him when I'm off work. I'm a busy person." You took a breath as the elevator doors opened, stepping inside with everyone else.

"We'll talk more about this later. I just want to get to know the next employee of the month better." His voice was sickeningly charming, his words derailing your train of thought.

"What?" You hadn't heard anything about that, you weren't even super important in your department. He was baiting you with reward. Setting himself up as innocent, someone who was rooting for you. A devastated work friend when he hears of your inevitable disappearance.

He played this game too well.

How many girls came before?

How many times has he gotten away with this?

"I pulled some strings, got you some well earned recognition. We need to celebrate it." His smile was all teeth, unnatural. It was a threat.

You really couldn't tell anyone about this now, not after he's painted himself as the good guy. Just trying to get employee's recognition. You'd sound like an ungrateful asshole. No one would listen.

No one would listen.

"Today, we will celebrate today." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. 

Whatever he was planning, whatever he was going to do to you, he was going to do it today. Nothing was going to stop him or get in his way. He was coming for you, going for the throat. 

You worked in paranoia and unease, took an early lunch just to avoid any possibility of running into him and completely left the building, went to a very public place for lunch. Didn't even pay attention to what you ordered, not even sure you paid before walking away. You got your food though, so someone paid.

In your panicked state you were struggling to pay any attention to the people around you, only looking for one person in the crowds of people. But he wasn't there. Brian wasn't there. Not that you could see.

Running into someone on your way to the door out of the restaurant you apologize, catching his eyes, they were brown. He was tall, well built. Dirty blonde. He oozed an energy that settled you, like your body knew him. Of course it didn't, you'd never seen this man in your life. There was just something about him.

"No worries, love." You couldn't shake your feeling of deja vu hearing his voice. "Keep your head on straight, no ones goin' to get you."

What an odd thing to say to a stranger.

"Um, thanks." You didn't know what else to say. How else to respond. You stand in front of him a moment more, awkwardly looking at him. There was just something about him you couldn't place. 

Checking the time you turned to walk away, you were going over your thirty minute lunch break. You needed to get back to work. Even if you'd rather have your eyes gouged out than have the possibility to run into Brian ever again. 

You were jumpy the rest of the work day, hypervigilant to everything around you. It wasn't atypical for Brian to interrupt your work, but he didn't come to bother you today. 

You tried to leave work early to avoid him, but he was already waiting for you when you reached the main floor. 

"I missed you at lunch today." There was something sinister in his eyes, something that didn't match his tone of forced pleasantry. "No matter. We'll go to that new pub tonight. We can meet there or I will pick you up." It was a threat, a subtle way to make sure you knew he knew where you lived. That he would come for you if you tried to skip out on him.

You'd rather he come to your house. Maybe your faithful watchdog would step in, maybe he'd help you. Maybe he'd stop him. Protect what's his. 

If not, you'd rather have whatever's going to happen, happen somewhere you know. Somewhere you've once felt safe. You'd rather die surrounded by your memories than wherever he'd take you, somewhere probably cold and unfeeling. 

"Okay." You had nothing else to say, rejection wouldn't work. This wasn't ever going to be a date, this was always going to be an assault. 

You were scared. A cornered animal with no way out. Despite your best efforts the water was starting to boil, and you had let it happen. 

Getting home didn't calm your nerves, it almost made them worse. Waiting for the arrival of the beast, waiting to be devoured, bones and all. 

Is this how the spring lambs feel? Screaming as they go down the line to the slaughter. All just to satisfy a man's hunger. 

Is that all women are good for? Satisfying men's hunger, lust, need for violence. Has it always been this way? Women are fucked and murdered. Will they ask what you were wearing? Blame the victim like they always do. 

Like they always do.

Maybe this would have eventually happened with your Ghost too, maybe this was just how the world works. Maybe men just have that right.

It was inevitable, unpreventable. 

It was late when the knock finally came, the sun long gone. There was nothing, no one who would shine a light on what was about to happen. Only the women with their podcasts will ever wonder what really happened to you. What led to this. 

Making eye contact with your front door only death stared back. Wicked wasn't coming. Wicked was here upon you, waiting for you to open the door for it to come in and take you. 

The knock came again, like the toll of a bell. Ringing through your ears like a sick mantra. There was no way out of this. There was nothing you could do.

Your feet shuffled towards the door, it was like walking down death row. 

The bell tolls for you. 

There was a hope inside of you that you'd open the door to your Ghost, that he's come to save you. That you could let in your stalker rather than your murderer. 

Grasping your doorknob felt like grabbing red hot metal, scorching and branding your skin, the last thing that would probably ever have your full set of fingerprints. 

You wondered if you'd fight, if you'd fight to survive or if you'd let him kill you.

It's a strange feeling, coming face to face with your mortality. 

Slowly you twisted the doorknob, letting the devil in. 

"I knew you'd let me in." The door was pushed open, pushing you back, removing your last barrier. Bringing you face to face with Brian. "A whore like you was probably just waiting for a guy like me to come along. You wanted this. Didn't you? You want me to ravage you, don't you? So needy."

He was clutching his stomach, he was bleeding. He'd been stabbed. 

You couldn't make sense of it. Was it your Ghost? Where was he now? Was he dead? Did he try to stop this? 

Brian reached for you, making you stumble back, out of his grasp. 

"Don't." Your feet wouldn't take you farther, they wouldn't let you run away. They'd take you right where he couldn't reach you, but they wouldn't let you get away. 

Maybe you did want this. Maybe every girl wanted this. Maybe that's why men thought it was okay.

"Come on, don't be like that. I know I kept you waiting but I got held up." He took a step closer, stalking towards you. "You'll look so good with the others."

No.

You didn't want this. You never wanted this. No one ever wanted this. 

This wasn't right.

He didn't have the right.

Your mind was flittering, it was hard to make it work, hard to force yourself to stay present. It's always been hard to make it work in situations like this, it hurts less when you just let yourself get hurt. But you didn't want to be hurt anymore. 

"Don't touch me." You took another step back, he was blocking the front door, but you could get out the back. Maybe someone will help you, maybe your neighbors will let you in.

"Come on, you knew it'd always come to this. I'm taking you home." You should have done more, should have opened the door with a knife. Should have been ready for him.

"No. You're not." Turning you ran, struggling with the backdoor for a moment in your adrenaline and panic, but you got it open. Slipping out you held down a scream, it wouldn't help you right now to lose your mind screaming. You needed to get away.

You didn't get far before he was on you.

Hands pushed you down to the ground, flipping you on your back, his hands found purchase on your neck, pulling you up before bashing you down, knocking the wind out of you. "A pretty doll like you would be better stuffed, skin perfectly preserved and taxidermied. Of course it would be better if I could have killed you without leaving damage, your bastard friend made sure that couldn't be a possibility. He got his, and you'll get yours."

Hands squeezed at your throat, the pressure in your head overwhelming, your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of your skull. Maybe that would help with the pressure.

"I'll separate your head from your body, that will take care of these marks. I'll figure something out for the rest of the damage. But don't worry, I'll turn you into a work of art. You'll be the prettiest out of them all." 

Wrestling with your panicking body he slotted himself between your legs to continue to choke you, pressing uncomfortably into you. A promise of what would come once you stopped moving.

You were going to die. He was going to kill you.

You were going to die.

Your hands desperately reached out, searching. Searching for anything that could help you. This couldn't be it, he couldn't do this. You couldn't die.

Finding a large rock you took hold of it with all your might, bashing it against his head, making him fall limp on top of you, blood from his head soaking into your hair, his face partially on yours.

His open mouth wreaked of Benson & Hedges cigarettes and tooth rot, saliva leaking onto your cheek. Pushing with all your might you shoved him off, adrenaline didn't allow for your hand to relax enough to drop your rock, the veins in your arms rising to the surface.

When his face scrunched and his body twitched you could hear a scream. Was that you? You didn't know anymore. Your body moved without prompt, bashing him again. And again, and again.

You hardly flinched as the blood peppered your skin, drops of crimson spraying your face. You bashed to the symphony of bones cracking, it was the only thing you could hear, the only thing filling your ears, and yet you continued, bashing until the rock in your hands was hard to hold, slippery and covered in red and grey matter.

You bashed until you felt the rock connect with the damp grass through where his face once was, nothing recognizable left of his head, nothing but the skull fragments and brain matter. Everything else was unidentifiable.

Horror and shock filled you at the sight, he wasn't dead was he? He couldn't be. He can't be dead. He wasn't a person who was dead, so he couldn't be dead.

Desperately you felt for a pulse on his neck. You didn't find one. As a last ditch effort you checked the hole of his stab wound in his stomach. It was warm. He was still warm.

He was okay. He was alright. Dead people aren't warm.

But that warmth meant he wasn't done, he wasn't done killing you, he hadn't succeeded yet. The thought made you scream. He wasn't done with you.

He hadn't succeeded yet, and he was supposed to succeed, that was his goal wasn't it? He couldn't fail. You couldn't have stopped him, you weren't capable of that. You were just a girl. You didn't have that right.

You needed more of his warmth, needed it coating you. Needed him to finish his task. His warmth was proof he would.

Searching for more you pressed your fingers inside, warmth squishing around your fingers, it felt good. Familiar almost. A familiar squelch. 

It was what you needed. More. More. More.

Wriggling your fingers inside you tested the limits of the wound, it wouldn't stretch farther, you couldn't get to more of his warmth.

But you needed more.

Getting fingers in from both hands you searched for grip through the unending amounts of red liquid around your hands.

Finding it you pulled, tearing it apart, the feeling of ripping flesh a rewarding feeling.

You were getting more, getting to the warmth. 

Your digits were digging now, puncturing into his gut, ripping and tearing, pulling out viscera and entrails. Blood perfectly coated the scene, coated you, painting an elegant picture in rouge, and most importantly, warmth.

There was a need, a desire, this couldn't be over yet, he couldn't be done yet. He wasn't done yet. You weren't dead yet, so he wasn't done.

Something pulled tight around your neck, a scarf of the small intestine, wrapping, suffocating. Pulled this tight it almost felt like his hands lovingly around your neck once more, crushing your windpipe. This was that beautiful feeling you were looking for, this was what you needed.

He wasn't done, he hadn't finished yet. You weren't dead yet, but now he could finish, now his slick warmth could finish the job.

Pulling tighter on the two ends of the thin warm viscera that same pressure in your skull was building again, a fuzziness in your vision. You couldn't breathe. It was perfect.

You needed more.

Pulling harder the scarf tightened, it wasn't enough yet, you needed to pull tighter, harder.

With the grotesque sound of tearing the pressure around your neck was gone. Air now filling your lungs in gasps, a burning feeling accompanying each inhale.

Looking down you were still holding the intestine, now in two pieces, the fluids from inside of it making your skin irritated and itchy.

He'd failed. Again.

Hearing a sound from behind you didn't startle you, turning your head your eyes met the hollow eyes of your Ghost, the white of his skull balaclava nearly glowing in the dark. "I broke him." You mumbled, disappointed, presenting the two ends of his guts to him. "You would have finished the job, right? You wouldn't have broke?"

"Of course, love." Crouching beside you he wiped the blood on your check. "I wouldn't break on you like 'e did."

"He wasn't done. He was supposed to kill me. And now he's just a mess. A useless mess. And I'm covered in him." Tears fell from your eyes, your voice whining out of your sore throat.

"Don't cry, you're perfect." Your Ghost pulled the intestine from your hands, letting it fall onto the heap of Brian's unidentifiable carcass. "Come on now, let's get you cleaned up."

The feeling of his arms slipping around your back and under your knees wasn't repulsive like it was when Brian would touch you, your Ghost's touch wasn't nauseating.

Hoisting you up your Ghost carried you away from the scene. "But what about the mess here?"

"I've called people who will come take care of it, I 'ave connections. The police will get involved, 'is victims families deserve to know what 'appened to them. But nothin' bad will happen to you. You'll be just fine. I'll make sure of it. I'm takin' care of you now, love. There's nothin' to worry about." His voice was soothing, the nose of his skull balaclava pressing against your temple. "I've got you now."

#x reader #oneshot #reader insert #cod fandom #cod #cod fanfic #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon riley call of duty #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #ghost cod #simon ghost fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #dark fic

[thr-333]

I just realized. I don't think I've seen anything about April in OaaHF. Where is she? What does she do in the resistence? How aware is she of Leon's situation?

Set while Leon is recovering from his first facial scar:

“No, no way!”

Leon groaned as the yell woke him, sound getting choked out by the bandages wrapped tight around his neck. Constricting his airway making it so he could never get a full breath, was always light headed. Although that could be the bloodloss.

“We need his portals, its not a-”

“I don’t care if it’s a transport mission, I don’t care if he’s at the very back line, you are not getting him out of that bed,”

Leon scrunched up his face so he wouldn’t have to deal with the light of day. Or the light of med bay. He wanted to go back to sleep and it wasn’t even the yelling that was stopping him. Pain flared along his face and shoulder in tandem with his heartbeat. Bandages pulled meticulously tight making every throb worse.

“It’s not an active mission, I’ve mapped out the points all Kraang will be avoided-”

“Then you do it!”

That voice, Leon knew it even past the haze pain. Probably helped that there were no painkillers available to keep him floaty. He sighed his big sisters voice was always soothing, well when she wasn’t yelling at him. Although he supposed she technically was.

“Ape’s I’m needed here,” Leo reasoned, his voice was deep and raspy. Huh Leon wondered if his voice sounded closer to it now, “I can’t up and leave the resistance without aleader for a minor mission,”

“So you admit it’s a minor mission!” April accused, Leon tried to open his eyes. The best he could make out was a couple of blurry figures until the light forced him to shut them.

“Minor but needed, lives are at stake here April,”

“His life is at stake!” Leon opened his mouth, but his throat was raw and the skin of his cheek pulled weirdly threatening to make him throw up if he tried. He tried anyway, why should be matter? “If he moves that wound, the wound you gave him is going to tear right open, he won’t survive that a second time,”

“April it was an accident, my hand slipped,” 

His future self was right of course. After all he had been the one to sacrifice his scarf to keep as much blood inside Leon’s body as possible. He had literally held Leon’s life in his hands. You didn’t do that for a person you were actually trying to kill… no matter how much it looked lik you wanted to seconds before.

That was fine. It was an accident. Leon shouldn’t have baited him.

“Bullshit, also I don’t give a crap, he’s not ready for field work!”

“The doctor cleared him,”

“Which you know they shouldn’t have!” April screeched, ugh Leon wished she wouldn’t, “Come on Leo you're a medic, just look at him!”

There was silence. Leon held still pretending to be asleep. Which was easy as he was teetering on the edge of unconsciousness. Only the jabs of pain and his sister keeping him present.

“It’s between him and them,”

“Him, everytime, my little brother should come first everytime,” Leon’s heart didn’t know if it should skip a beat or clench. It was the answer he wanted to hear- but one he was completely undeserving of.

“I can’t play favorites,”

“Plaaeesseee,” The pure amount of sarcasm poured into the tone would have shot three men dead, “Is that why Mikey’s locked up in the underground bunker within an underground bunker, deep fried and finished with magic?”

“April-”

“Or how about Donnie’s lab, which is enforced with thirty percent of our titanium stores?” Leo would have rolled his eyes if they wouldn't just keep rolling back into his head. Obviously it wasn’t a matter of favoritism, his brothers were simply more important than him, “And how me and Cassie keep getting shortlisted missions? Junior hasn’t left your side in months and you haven't left this safehold in a year? Yet guess who’s going on missions every other week?”

“It’s all a matter of circumstance,” Leo’s voice took on a cold and harsh tone, “I’m trying to keep everyone alive for the sak-”

“Everyone but Leon,” 

She called him Leon… when had he become Leon? When has he started solely thinking of himself as Leon? Why was his futureself exclusively Leo? The thoughts were to hard to capture, slipping through his hands like sand. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dwell on them anyway.

“Well sucks for you but I care about keeping him alive, even if you don’t,” 

That wasn’t fair, he cared about Leon he did, as much as he could. Leon didn’t make it easy, after… after everything he caused. He couldn’t blame his future self for being a bit weird. He cared where it counted. Leon would’ve been dead three times over now if he didn’t.

“This mission is needed-”

“I’ll go then,”

No, April

“April, No,”

“If it’s so important you need to drag him out of bed and risk reopening the slice you put in his neck then it’s important enough for I, commander O’Neil to take over,”

“You’re not who you are in the future, you’re not Commander O’Neil,”

“And I never will be if you keep coddling,” April spat, “Besides I don’t care about being a commander right now, I care about being a sister, so it’s either I take the mission or you cancel it,”

The silence stretched on. Leon grasped onto his threads of consciousness. Purposely twitching his shoulder to get the fiery pain to keep him awake. It was amazing how something could fill him with so much dread yet he still selfishly felt hope that they would go through with it. Because he was selfish, rather stay hidden away in bed in a back room of the stronghold while his big sister fronted all the danger.

“Fine,” Relief and dread, unfortunately not in equal measure, “You come back alive understand?”

“Oh darn, there go my plans,” April tossed back, a shade closer to her usual teasing tone but still tense.

Leo didn’t answer. Because he was Leo, even in Leon’s own mind. But the older turtle huffed. Leon listened to his footsteps fade as Aprils got closer. The dip in his bed bit him to open his eyes.

“Heya blue, you awake?” April’s hand gently brushed his forehead, Leon cringed as he opened his eyes, “How’re you doing?”

He couldn’t answer, not really. So he leaned into her palm. Flinching as the small movement pulled on his wound from neck to cheek. He hissed through the pain. Tight bandages around his throat feeling suffocating as he would have struggled to breath even without them.

“Sorry, sorry, just wanted to check in,” The details of Aprils face were hard to make out pain blurring them out, “I’m going away for a mission,”

“Do… t,” Leon tried to sound out, it didn’t come anywhere close, but hey look at that: His voice was raspy.

“Don’t worry about me, it’s my job to worry about you,” She pat his cheek, thumb rubbing soft circles under his eye, “Seriously, please, it’s ok to care about yourself, you should, once in a whil- actually all the time,”

Leon shook his head imperceptibly. She was wrong. He had done that, over and over again. Each time they lost so much. He couldn’t, not anymore. Why couldn’t she understand that? 

Leo understood that. He knew what it was like to sit with that guilt, that self hate. He knew how to work for others to ease that feeling even a little bit. As losses stacked everyday and crushed him under their weight.

“I bet your thinking something stupid right now,” April pinched his opposite cheek, the unscarred one that showed off his brilliant red stripe, “I wish you were better so I could beat my love into your skull, but we’ll have to save that for when I get back,”

Leon plucked up the strength to use his right arm. Greaspoing Aprils loosely. He needed to get his point across, even without words, he had to.

“I will be alright, you rest up,” April moved from his grasp to instead thread their fingers together, “I’m your big sister, I’m always going to look out for you, even if I have to do that by not being here,”

No, no that wasn’t what he meant. Leo jerked to grab her again. White hot flares shot through his shoulder. Fuck, wrong arm. Darkness clawed at the edge of his vision, plusing in time with the pain searing through him.

“You’re so………. Don’t let anyone convince you…..” April's voice faded in and out, “ We have always…….. None of this………… alright Leon?”

Leon, that was the last word he caught before his world faded to black. The last thing he heard his sister say. 

When he woke up.

She was gone.

#One and a Half Futures #oaahf #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #future leo #rise #tmnt

[nebbyy]

How would Baldwin react if reader got sick?

King Baldwin x reader - sickness

A/N: I'm loving all this king Baldwin enthusiasm, I've been waiting for this moment for ages omfg!!! (little 10 year old me is screaming now that I have the chance to write for my historical crush).

Btw I don't know if I should be making all the fancy set up for all headcanons of him (like, author's note, warning and painting), the last posts didn't have it because it didn't seem fit to me but you let me know

Psssst painting is "Paolo and Francesca" by Frank Dicksee

Warning: none, sickness maybe?

Oh boy

You wouldn't be able to leave your bed.

Sickness was a big deal back then, you could easily die form a cold, so ain't no way that he's taking any more risks.

To be honest the climate was less brutal in Jerusalem than Europe, which was even colder than modern times (and living in Switzerland I can assure you that it gets REALLY cold).

He would insist on keeping you in his quarters, always near his sight, and when he had to leave to attend to his royal duties you'd be surrounded by his best physicians to take care of you.

But he would like it best when he's the one tending to you, it's one of the most intimate moments he gets with his beloved

He'd use a wet cloth to clean your face of the sweat, gently caress your body while he orders to get some ice from his servants to cool your body down

Incense would fill the room to ease your mind and make the ambience more comfortable for you to rest

He'd love to bathe you, hold your weakened body as he frees you of that sickly sticky feeling that has been clinging to your body for the past days

It would take you some convincing to let him sleep with you in the same bed to be honest, as he would've been too scared to be that close to you while you're so weakened already

Because, what if in this state your body is so weak and ill already that it makes it easier for you to contract leprosy as well? He wouldn't survive the guilt of knowing that he'd be the cause of your demise

He would've only relented after seeing your pleading eyes, begging to have him close to you at night, to not be left alone, to not have to suffer his absence too

But all his worries would be washed away once he got to feel your body close to his once again, see your droopy eyes looking at him and your weak smile of gratitude for his closeness

Then, once you would've fallen asleep, he would hold you a close as possible, kissing your boiling hot forehead while he prayed God to let you live, to let you stay with him just a little longer

And he was sure his prayers had been listened once he wakes up to the sight of you, smiling at him with renewed strength, your body once again fresh to the touch

You were healed, and he couldn't have been more happy even if he'd woken up healed by leprosy himself

#f!reader #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #king baldwin x you #headcanons #historical fiction #anon ask

[ceciliaaa-youre-breakin-my-heart]

NEW CHAPTER IS OUT!

Get it while it's still tired as fuck and doesn't know how to play chess!

Obligatory Simon and Garfunkle song:

#theatrum mundi #maybe i should stop uploading in the middle of te night #i just wanted to finish it today #bc my keyboard is kinda broken #the h is broken #and i wouldn't survive having to deal with it one more evening #so here you have it #this was supposed to be a lighthearted haha chapter #and then BAM 10 000 words #why do i keep doing this #Youtube

[izzy-b-hands]

im ngl i had a lil breakdown before my shower (which i took just before i went to bed to chill and watch the new eps) abt some thought-id-already-worked-all-thru-it irl stuff that resurfaced on me like trauma tends to and i just

it made everything in the show so. I don't know how to say it right. but i feel seen and understood and emotionally overwhelmed in a safe yet weird way, just like i did with a lot of s1 and I am Feeling So Much akdnfkgb (i cannot stress enough that this is a Good Thing and I'm absolutely thrilled and happy with the new eps and like. Going to be fine mentally I just gotta wrangle this like i have the times before.)

#text post #god i need a therapist that specialises in PTSD when i can afford therapy again #in the meantime recognition of the self thru the admired other while im in this state weirdly helps #makes me feel like im gonna burst out of my skin and I'm blasting metal in my ear buds to deal with that for now #gonna sleep eventually #i think lmao #im fine honestly bc like. this is not my first breakdown by any means but just. the fucking timing could not have been better #that said i both need a hug and absolutely could not handle being touched rn so that's something #no one's gonna read this far so im gonna just let myself have one little extra messy vent in that #my stupid fucking dad triggered part of this last one and I'm so mad abt it #he doesn't give two fucks abt me now (but he'd pretend to if he saw me in person bc jason LOVES keeping up appearances) #and he would just do a little nod and smile and talk over me telling him all that's happened this last year #i moved across the fucking country with help from friends so i wouldn't wind up dead in ND #and that's the thing i keep surviving and I dont understand why when I'm so often stressed and struggling to want to live #that and more has been sitting weighing and i just. want to tell him all of this and for him to be proud of me #he'll never be proud of me the way i want bc even my mum hasn't pulled that off #where they're proud of me as I am with no caveats or hiding parts of myself #if u think this is bad pls know i deleted a maximum tags tag essay/trauma dump just before this on this post lmao #i am In The Soup rn but it's gonna be fine #gonna rewatch s2 eps and be slightly but safely triggered by bits of ed and izzys stuff and get stoned and try to. process feelings #find some ptsd therapy worksheets online like dr. blohm suggested i try #forgive me the long tags and scroll by it fast if u want/need friends ill try to contain my current mess to this post & few others

[writingouthere]

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk #sukuna

[blushweddinggowns]

I'm all for the angsty overhearing a conversation trope where it's all sad because of a misunderstanding. But I also love the opposite. Overhearing a conversation where the other person is just singing their praises. Especially with Steve and Eddie.

Like Steve being very aware that he likes Eddie, but way too afraid of rejection to actually do anything about it. So he just pines away, and gets closer and closer to him with the full expectation of it never going anywhere. Until one day, he comes to pick Dustin up from Hellfire too early, and he can hear everyone talking through the door. About him. But mostly it's Eddie, his loud voice carrying across the room. And he's just raving about him, and somehow managing to bring him up in conversations that have nothing to do with him.

Do you remember that time Steve saved my life by shoving my guts back into my body? Yeah, that's the level of skill and luck you're going to need to survive this.

Did you guys know that Steve actually gave me this background music? He's weirdly knowledgeable about classical stuff. Isn't that cool? He's so smart and-oh, yeah, the merchant agrees to the deal.

So uh, is Steve maybe seeing anyone? He isn't right? Like he would tell me if he was, wouldn't he?

And he doesn't give a single fuck at the collective groaning of the group whenever he gets going, never failing to pull out the I almost Died saving the world with you card to get them to shut up. And by the time it actually ends, Steve is a glowing, blushing mess who can't stop smiling.

Or the other way around. With Eddie full on assuming he has 0 shot because Steve's, Steve.

The golden boy who could obviously never be into him like that, or any other guy for that matter. So he doesn't do anything about his feelings, he just hangs out with him more and more and falls for him more and more, waiting for the inevitable day when he gets a girlfriend and his fantasies could finally die. Except one day, he spends the night at Steve's, but he isn't in bed when he wakes up. He goes to find him, just to hear him downstairs loudly talking to Robin. Because neither of them know the concept of inside voices when they're together. And he waits at the top, listening in just for the fuck of it, but mostly because he doesn't want to interrupt.

"I just feel like bed sharing the way you guys do is gay as hell," Robin sighed, "Especially at your age. Also, should we even be talking about this with him in the house?"

And before Eddie has time to freak out over that and the possibility he's gotten caught with his feelings, Steve is already answering, "I know right? And don't worry about it, he sleeps like the dead. But I don't know what to do about it. He still hasn't done anything. Am I just reading this whole thing wrong?"

"Well you could try making the first move instead of trying to trick him into doing it," Robin tried.

"And ruin our friendship incase I'm wrong? Yeah, no. Besides, I go like, full dumbass around him when I'm nervous. He's too hot. I'd probably walk into a wall in the middle of professing my undying love."

"Yeah," Robin sighed, "You probably would."

And Eddie is just having a moment upstairs. A full on I think I may have to jump for joy moment. Or even, I think I'm five seconds away from squealing like a teenage girl moment.

Yeah, I like that shit.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #cutsy bullshit because im struggling so hard with my fic #i do actually love the misunderstandings trope #but i also love accidently confessing within ear shot

[lassieposting]

Been thinking a lot lately about romanced Astarion post-spawn ending.

Because like. The Funnest™ thing about cptsd is how much of it gets delayed. When you're trapped in a lengthy, ongoing traumatic situation, you do not have the ability to process and start healing your mental wounds. Your brain and body go into survival mode, and all that matters in the moment is that you somehow cope with the horrors. He wouldn't have been able to even begin dealing with the physical, mental and emotional toll of two hundred years of torture, brutalization and dehumanization while he was under Cazador's control; he is in constant danger, surrounded by sharks in the water, and survival means not letting them smell blood. He can't afford to fall apart, to show weakness. He is shockingly functional and competent in-game, partly because he has to be to work as a game character, but also partly because...it do be like that, to some degree. When death, for whatever reason, is not an option, you just have to shut down and keep going. People adapt in order to survive, and when we learn that showing an "injury" (physical or psychological) only gets us punished, we learn to hide it.

Early-game Astarion is terrified - of Cazador, of Godey, of being hunted down by his siblings, of being staked or sold off at the first opportunity by Tav and the other companions, of turning into a mindflayer, of another painful transformation, of losing himself when he's only just regained his autonomy after two centuries, of what Cazador will do to him if he ever finds him - the man is overwhelmed by fear. He's on thin ice as a vampire, and he's not going to give them any more reason to want him gone. Survival instinct is still in control, and in this new situation, crafting some fragile safety for himself means not only selling his body for protection, but also being useful. Clear-headed. Good in a fight.

Endgame Astarion finds himself in a completely different situation. The time-sensitive overarching threats - Cazador and impending ceremorphosis - have been dealt with. He has a loving, supportive partner he's really starting to feel safe with - Tav/Durge has proved that they're on his side, that their affection is genuine, that they don't just want him for the one thing he's been told he's good for. They've told him they're going to help him find a workaround for his sun allergy. He's getting fed regularly. He has time to stop, and breathe, and just. Recuperate.

For the first time in 200 years, he is safe.

And it will probably take a while to catch up, during which time he will seem to be coping really well, but at some point, his brain is going to realise that he's safe, and it's going to finally start processing the sheer fucking horror he's been through. Since I haven't seen anyone talking about this particular fun aspect of cptsd, allow me to offer u some thoughts on issues Astarion and Tav might end up dealing with in the months/years postgame, during the

✨ Delayed Trauma Response ✨

Memory Gaps: Astarion realising, as he opens up to Tav, that there are entire years or decades of his life from which he has only a handful of memories. Great big blank stretches where he has no idea where he was, who he was with, what was happening to him. Some of the gaps cover years at a time where he was so dissociated and shut down that he just didn't retain any memories of what was going on around him. Some are shorter periods of particularly horrific torture that his brain has deliberately blocked out to protect him.

Recovered Memories: At some point, years into the future when he's done A Lot of healing, he might find that every now and then, a fragment of those lost memories will unexpectedly come back to him. He'll catch a particular scent on the breeze, or overhear a specific phrase in the street, or cross paths with someone whose face is oddly familiar, and he'll get a glimpse of an acute horror he'd filed neatly away where it couldn't hurt him anymore. He very rarely remembers all the context to those flashes of his past. He might recall that he was punished, but not what he was punished for, or he might remember words spoken by a greedy conquest, but be unable to recall the man's face.

Dissociation: Tav knows going into this relationship that Astarion has basically made an art out of dissociating during sex. They also know, from their shared encounter with the drow twins, that he's not great at enforcing his own boundaries - he'll always say he'll speak up and back out if he stops having fun, but in practice he rarely does; he's not used to having the option of saying no to his partner, and being punished if he tries. So they know there's going to be some practice and experimentation and negotiation necessary there, to figure out the rough limits of his comfort zone. But once he starts really processing, there may be days where he just checks out completely. Tav will touch his shoulder, and he'll startle and apologise - "Terribly sorry, darling, I was miles away for a moment there." And Tav will gently point out that he's been sat in the same spot vacantly staring into the middle distance for hours. They've been checking in on him occasionally and this is the first time he's responded. It's unsettling, to say the least.

Lost Time: Astarion was very young when he was turned, physically mature but emotionally juvenile. He was basically an overgrown teenager, in the phase of life where elves are just starting to learn who they are and what they want, and figure out their place in the world. But he never got to do that, because he spent his formative young adult years in a world where everyone became an abuser, where his only means of surviving was to smile and charm and obey while even his basic human dignity was stripped away. He learned that communication is based on manipulation. He learned that the powerful can do whatever they like to the weak. He learned an incredibly toxic, abusive way of life, and that was his family dynamic, his everyday life, for as long as he can remember. Now that he's free and safe, he's realising that the world doesn't actually work that way and that he's now far behind even shorter-lived races in social/emotional development. He's grieving for the person he could've been. He's grieving for the life he could've lived. He's grieving for all the years he already lost, and the ones he'll lose in the future as he flounders to catch up. A decent chunk of his life was stolen from him, and that's time he will never get back.

Flashbacks & Night Terrors: Specifically the kind where your brain convinces you that an injury you had a long time ago is actually an injury you have (or are receiving) right now. There are nights where he'll wake Tav in a panic, because his back feels like it's on fire, he can feel every freshly-carved wound dripping blood and he's in so much pain he doesn't know what else to do. If Tav looks, they see nothing out of the ordinary - old, long-healed scars, same as always. But the pain and the fear and the distress are all very real to him, and all they can do is try to comfort him, cover his back with cool damp cloths or healing salves, remind him he's safe now and they're not leaving him.

Boundary Shifting: Sometimes, Tav can come up and hug him from behind, and he'll melt into them a little bit and go all soft and happy. Other times, he might flinch away or go rigid at the same gesture. A lot of the time, it really depends on how he's feeling on the day, but at least a little bit of it is deliberate - he's pushing to find the limit of just how much autonomy Tav is willing to give him. He wants to know at what point they'll stop respecting his "no". Will they accept it if he doesn't want a hug? If he wants to sleep in his own room tonight? At what point will understanding turn to anger at being rejected? From the drow twins four/fivesome, we also know he's got a tendency to push his own boundaries, and jump into things he's actually not ready for, and Tav would be the one holding his hand through the fallout as he tries to figure out what his own boundaries even are.

Frustration! So, so much frustration. He wants to be Over It already. He wants to move past everything that ever happened to him and never think about it again. He hates that Cazador still has a grip on him, even in death - he doesn't want to give the bastard the satisfaction of dwelling on all his punishments, his cruelties. Sometimes, that frustration is going to explode outwards at Tav - he'll get angry at them for coddling him, or find something small to start a fight over, or he'll set an unreasonable boundary and try to defend it because he's still learning what healthy boundaries look like. Sometimes, it will implode inwards, and that won't be about Tav at all, but they'll get the brunt of it all the same - it might come out as self-loathing or self-punishment, and he'll react by doing something stupid, like trying to drive them away, because having a secure, relatively healthy relationship is terrifying and the instinct is to destroy it before Tav can. There will be yelling and angry tears and deeply unhealthy coping mechanisms, and they'd have to work through that. Trauma is ugly, and Astarion is right at the beginning of a very long journey towards healing.

Abandonment Issues: Astarion wants the relationship to be one between equals, but he's kind of got Tav on a pedestal all the same. They saved him. They helped him get rid of Cazador for good. They chose him and love him despite a wealth of better (in his eyes) options, and all his baggage. They stayed with him even when he has very little to offer them. We know his vanity and obnoxious self-absorption is a fragile attempt to obscure the fact that his self-esteem is in the dirt and he has virtually no self-worth, and there are a couple of occasions in-game where it becomes clear that he's afraid of losing the one person who somehow considers him lovable. After seeing Sebastian and all the other conquests, he begs Tav not to hate him, saying that he did what he had to. If he has a rival for Tav's affections, and Tav informs him that they broke up with the rival to be with Astarion, he's shocked and the first thing out of his mouth is, "You ended things with them for me? Why?" And if Durge tries to break up with him for his own safety, his facade drops and he immediately asks if he did something wrong. So while he's not afraid to argue with Tav, if something happens - like an angry outburst - that upsets or angers them, and he thinks he's at risk of losing that one steady, stable person in his life, he might well cling and overcompensate to try and repair what he thinks is a fracture in their relationship. He'll fawn or beg or crawl into Tav's bed to "apologise" and "make it up to them" because, well, very occasionally it worked on Cazador. With patience and good communication and lots of repeatedly driving the lesson home to overcome 200 years of education to the contrary, he will eventually start to believe that "I'm really pissed off at you right now," does not equate to, "You are the worst mistake I've ever made and I am leaving you."

Panic Attacks: I feel like honestly he'd get some symptoms of these on a fairly regular basis, but he's never been given any option other than just trying to power through them. He's used to realising he's shaking, he's used to feeling like he's watching himself from outside his body, or like he can't breathe even though he doesn't need to. He's very familiar with the sickening fear in his gut, so intense it makes his head spin. He's not used to being comforted or reassured about them - he thinks they're normal. Tav disagrees.

Anyway, cptsd is messy and complicated and often looks very different from person to person so these will not represent everyone's but these are just some ideas for what the ongoing recovery process might make them work through, based on the aspects I'm most familiar with.

Projecting? Who's projecting? I'm not projecting. Shut up.

#bg3 #bg3 headcanons #bg3 meta #astarion x tav #astarion x durge #mom said it's my turn to project on the blorbo #astarion ancunin

[a-hazbin-reader]

Can you do an Alastor x fem!reader where Alastor confesses his love to her, but she doesn't believe him, thinking it's some kind of sick joke? She just laughs nervously, saying something like “yeah, yeah, I got it, very good joke, Al, your humor is getting better,” expecting that it will actually turn out to be some kind of prank

However, Alastor doesn't stop and tries to convey to her that he really loves her, but she still doesn't believe him because she doesn't trust him completely. Like, he's the radio demon, one of the most dangerous and powerful overlords who seemingly despised the idea of ​​getting close to someone, what if he just wants to trick her so he can maybe make a deal with her or something?? That's why at first she tries to avoid him in order to get rid of this awkwardness due to his confessions, but gradually in the end she begins to meet him halfway and considers the idea of ​​​​starting to date him after all. Not official yet, but the chances are great

WELP-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: None?? I think??

Description: ☝️⬆️

You're used to expecting the worst-case scenario and protecting your heart first and foremost, it's just how you learned to survive

You've learned not to trust anyone, especially anybody down here in hell with you, everyone has an ulterior motive

Yet...by some weird twist of fate you found yourself a home at the hotel, Charlie somehow having convinced you to stay

Whether or not you believed in redemption, you couldn't deny that you didn't feel a sense of closeness with everyone there

Even Alastor was nice to hang around sometimes, though you didn't trust him in the slightest

How could you? The Radio Demon?? He's got plans for his plans and only sees people for their use, he doesn't care about anyone, especially not you

You're just amusing to him, which is fine, you can tolerate being amusing just not being used

You had a comfortable relationship with the overlord which was something that not many people could say

You two got along well enough, spent a good amount of time together and actually had decent conversations

He'a charming and handsome, a dangerous combination but you were far too addicted to his presence now to worry about it, you can still protect your heart

Or at least you did, until Alastor decided to toy with your feelings, how he found out about your budding crush was beyond you

You two were walking alone together at night, laughing at some couple you two had witnessed earlier, teasing them

"I just don't understand how any man could be that whipped for a woman! I can't wrap my head around it..!"

Instead of joining in your laughter, he hummed and looked over at you strangely before looking ahead

"Oh, I don't know... I find myself understanding men like that a little more these days."

It's like a bucket of ice water just fell on you, your laughter cutting off as you look at him in confusion

"What do you mean? Are you...seeing someone or something?"

He looks as uncomfortable as a man with a permanent smile can be, tapping his claws against his staff

"Heavens no, but that doesn't mean there isn't someone special in my life... someone I wouldn't mind courting."

He gives you a meaningful glance then looks away again, stopping suddenly and facing you

"Alastor-"

"I wouldn't mind being whipped for you."

Your stomach sours and you frown, pushing at his shoulder a little harder than you meant to

"Yeah, that's real funny, Alastor. Why don't you go try that joke on someone else next time?"

You walk off as quickly as you can, leaving a baffled looking Alastor in your dust

Do you have any idea how hard it was for him to confess!? He grits his teeth and rubs his hand over his face as he watches you run away from him

You don't talk to him the next day, or the day after that, in fact... Alastor is pretty sure you're avoiding him because any time he tries to talk to you-

You find an excuse to run off, your relationship with him awkward and nervously hanging on by a thread

He ruined it and all your walls came right back up

You should've known he would exploit your weakness like that, should've seen that he was only being so good to you because he wanted to use everything he learned against you

You don't know what he gets out of it or what his goal is, but you're sure he's got an angle

Even now, he's trying to mess with your feelings, bringing you flowers, pushing little notes under your door, one time he even tried to serenade you

He keeps trying to tell you that he cares about you, that he feels for you, that he wants you, and you just don't want to hear it

It hurts to be toyed with

Everyone else at the hotel can see what's happening between you two which makes everything that much more embarrassing

"Come on, Husk! I know you know something! Why is he targeting me!? What do I have that he wants?"

Husk looks visibly uncomfortable, looking over your body before looking away, suddenly interested in a smudge on a glass

"I don't know anything so quit asking me! Why don't you just sit down and talk with him, huh?"

Oh, he knows something

Angel smirks and nudges your leg with his own, invading your personal space to further tease you

"You're tellin' me that you ain't flattered by all this attention he's givin' you? I've seen the way he's been mooning over you lately, and let me tell you~ That shit ain't fake~"

You huff and shake your head, mostly to hide the blush on your face from them

"He has an angle, everyone always does."

"Look if you wanna be a blind bitch then be my guest but at least promise me you'll hit that and tell me the details~?"

"ANGEL!"

You can't avoid Alastor forever no matter how hard you try, eventually running into him late one night when everyone else is in bed

You should've known better than to get that late night snack, but you had skipped dinner earlier, and you were hungry

You're washing your plate off when you hear Alastor walk in, stiffening once you realize you have no real excuse to run away anymore

"Alastor-"

He sucks in a breath and stays still as if scared he'll chase you away, which he might actually be worried about due to your actions lately

"I know you think I confessed to you in order to get something from you but that's far from the truth. I do genuinely find myself attached to you."

You feel your lip wobble a little, hugging yourself as you look away from him

"Don't. Don't you dare mess with me like this or I'll never forgive you, Alastor."

He takes another step closer to you, cautious as if trying not to scare you away

"I'm being entirely honest with you, I've fallen for you in ways I can't even begin to understand or convey to you. These last few weeks have been torture for me."

He's gripping your arms gently to stop you from turning away, the simple touch spreading warmth throughout your body

You have missed him a lot...

"I'm not asking that you confess your love to me, I only want a chance to show you I'm being genuine with you..."

You glance up at him before taking a step back, blushing furiously at the pathetic puppy eyes he's giving you

You can't believe you're going to agree to this, he better not make you regret it later or you'll make him suffer for it

You sigh and point at him, doing your best to remain calm and not let your emotions show

"I'll think about it, okay? Just...give me time to think."

He visibly relaxes and sighs in relief, giving you a warm smile as if you had just said yes

"That's more than I could ask for, I'll wait hundreds of years for you if that's what you want."

You blush more and have to cover your mouth to stop an excited squeal from escaping your lips

"Q-quit flirting with me! I already said I'd think about it..!"

He chuckles softly and reaches out to rub your cheek before pulling away and turning to leave

"Okay okay~ I'll wait for you...~"

He leaves you there in the dark, blushing and fuming to yourself

Having a handsome overlord on your arm wouldn't be the worst thing that could happen to you

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

[lazycats-stuff]

Batfam at a gala with the reader being dubbed the "hearttrob", the reader is really handsome and nearly everybody wants to get into his pants. However, the reader is actually a really innocent and the family is always on a mission to stop anyone from talking to the reader who just wants to get him into their bed. They're like "nuh uh he only deserves the best"

Oh God, chaos is about to ensue lol. Just everyone being, nope.

Summary: The fam protects their handsome brother.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, people trying to get into (Y/N)'s pants, protective family...

Out of the 5 sons that Bruce has, both adopted and biological, all of them were handsome in their own way. But (Y/N) was the most handsome one, even more handsome than Damian, who was a second contender to the title. Bruce has never ever made any of them feel bad about it.

Besides, none of them really cared about that title anyway. It was bullshit according to them, but... They had agreed that (Y/N) was the most handsome one. That was something that they couldn't deny in the slightest. They all have agreed that if they weren't brothers, they would try and date him.

Of course, that's what a lot of people tried to do and (Y/N) was called a heartthrob for it. He was often in magazines, gossip ones whilst wearing something nice or casual and the internet would simply explode. It has happened a few times before and it was amusing and Jason nearly died from laughing every single time it happened.

God forbid he gets an Instagram or anything like that.

Internet would not survive in any way, shape or form.

Galas were more often that not insane to deal with. (Y/N) was always a genuine person who would really want to love someone, someone who wouldn't use him for like bragging rights or anything similar. When (Y/N) loves, he loves.

That's something that his brothers knew, alongside Bruce of course. So, being a protective they are, they made a pact to protect (Y/N) from people who would only want to sleep with him. There were many douchebags like that, who only want to get in (Y/N)'s pants.

It was nuts.

The same thing was happening tonight, at a gala for some charity. It was for the homeless people of Gotham city. (Y/N) was dressed sharply, in a classic black suit with a white shirt. Of course, he finished his look with a black tie. He moved around the room to talk to people, avoiding the knows reporters. He wasn't interested in them.

He was more interested in something else and that was his bed. Just two more hours.

However, the others noticed people looking at him, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat for them. A prize. Prey. A trophy. It didn't sit well with any of the family members. (Y/N) deserves nothing more than the best partner he could get.

Only the best.

Jason was eyeing a man who was looking at his brother and has made a move. He started walking towards his brother, but Jason was one step ahead. They were all wearing earpieces, just like on patrol. Jason lifted his glass of wine. " A man is on the move. Tim, he is in your line of sight. " Jason murmured, hiding his mouth with his glass of wine.

Tim turned his head from a man he was talking to and excused himself, quickly making his way to his brother before the douchebag could even reach him.

" Hey (Y/N), Jason wanted to talk to you. " Tim said as he patted his shoulder and (Y/N) nodded, leaving to find Jason, who heard it all and was now trying to figure out a reason to talk to (Y/N).

Tim turned his head to look at the man, who was glaring at Tim. Tim was thoroughly unimpressed.

" I know exactly what you want with my brother. I have seen it time and time before. It won't happen. " Tim said coldly and turned around, leaving the angry man behind.

Damian and Dick smirked from their spots. It was amazing to see it. Truly amazing.

And (Y/N) always turned a blind eye to it. It was either for the reason that he didn't want to deal with people or he simply didn't know. He always played dumb for it, but they all suspected that he knew.

Either way, it soothed the protective urge in them. Bruce knew what they were doing and he was doing absolutely nothing to stop his boys. Only if it was physical. Only then he would step in.

And Alfred? Alfred was the silent watcher, listening and waiting. He listened because most men like that brag about things and are bound to uncover something about themselves. And Alfred is never wrong. He always saw right through them.

As Jason and (Y/N) were talking, the others remained vigilant. It was far more interesting this way. More fun at this gala. Not just this one, but the others too. Far more interesting.

(Y/N) got himself some whiskey and just sipped it slowly. It was a nice evening. Damian moved around, seeing a man walking in the general direction of (Y/N). Damian moved through the crowd of people, watching the man like a hawk.

There was something way off about him. Something was way off. Damian couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew that he couldn't ignore the feeling. If there is one thing that Damian was taught, it was to never ignore his gut feeling about people.

He kept following the man, seeing a lustful gaze in his eyes. That bastard. Damian's eyes narrowed at the man, especially when (Y/N) left to go to the bathroom. Damian's mind went into overdrive, knowing that (Y/N) would be vulnerable there.

" I'm moving to the bathroom. " Damian murmured as he approached the bathroom, making sure to keep some distance. He smudged his shirt a bit to have an excuse to go to the bathroom. He entered it, seeing someone chatting up (Y/N).

Damian cleared his throat as he approached the sinks. " (Y/N), father wants to talk to you. Says it's important. " Damian said and Bruce chuckled through the earpiece.

" Thanks Dames. " (Y/N) said with a smile and excused himself from the conversation he was having with a polite smile. The man kept up a polite smile until (Y/N) left and turned to Damian with a scowl. Damian had to control an urge to not laugh in his face.

" Listen kid, don't ruin this for me. " The man said and Damian kept his cool.

" I know who you are. Your father is a business partner of WE. And Bruce Wayne is protective of his sons so don't make me tell him what you said. " Damian said coldly, but Bruce already heard it. But of course, will keep it quiet as long as the man is somewhat respectful.

Now, the last sentence alone made the man scared. It was a well known fact that Bruce Wayne doesn't take any disrespect about his sons. Of any kind. Damian smirked as he saw that the man has paled.

Damian left without a word and saw Dick who smirked too. " Good job Damian. " Dick said as he high fived Damian in passing, composing himself quickly as the man hurried out of the bathroom, clearly distressed.

The two smirked, making Tim snort from where he watched them with Connor. Bruce subtly rolled his eyes at that, but was happy that Damian took control.

And (Y/N)? He simply remained unbothered, chatting away with Alfred, who was happy to stop for a good chat with his grandson.

#dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batfamily #bruce wayne x male reader #batman x male reader #jason todd x male reader #red hood x male reader #dick grayson x male reader #nightwing x male reader #tim drake x male reader #red robin x male reader #damian wayne x male reader #robin x male reader

[talesofsonicasura]

To Save A DogDay

I couldn't help but write this after seeing the constant dedication of saving the giant toy doggo. So here's something to assist you guys in the effort. I've done some research(even though Google was being an ass) and took a look at this particular post by @dafloof

First off, DogDay is surprisingly big despite being cut in half. If I have to compare his size then think of those giant plushies you win from a theme park or carnival game. Thus the only possible carry for the average person to safely escort him is bridal or hanging off like a koala on the side due to the grab pack. He might be able to shrink himself to a more manageable size if DogDay is similar to CatNap in body structure.

Although that doesn't mean the task is impossible outside of adrenaline. DogDay may be big you got to think about his possible weight. Bigger Bodies are still toys with the Smiling Critters being plushies. How much of him is stuffing and not organs?

The necessary body parts for him to still be alive are the lungs, heart, brain, stomach, and some sort of skeletal structure. Here's a weight chart for the average human. (Although these might be smaller if harvested back as a child than an adult.)

Stomach: 2-4 pounds/lbs

Brain- 2.5 pounds/lbs

Heart- 0.25 pounds/lbs

Lungs- 1.8 pounds/lbs

Human Skeleton- 15-25 pounds/lbs

Average weight here 21.05 - 31.05 lbs. His arm bones might be reinforced similar to the Prototype but they still wouldn't be that heavy. For carrying in your arms, 35- 55 lbs is what the the untrained person can hold. Body weight contributes to how much someone can carry with a 139 lbs untrained woman being able to deadlift around 74 lbs. For men it is 125 lbs for 148 lbs.

Adrenaline can help contribute to this as there have been feats done by people in dangerous situations. One example being a human mother fighting off a polar bear to protect her kids or someone moving a car by themselves to get free. We can do insane things when it comes to survival.

There's also the mental side to this. Our brains actually diminish the perception of how strong we are by 40%. If you carry something you love or cherish like a person, then they can weigh less just from that viewpoint. Sometimes thinking like the Little Engine That Could will make a difference.

Now I am not forgetting the dangerous little critters. There are ways to deal with them and have enough time to bring DogDay along. In his cell, there are two ports they can crawl out of. Blocking these whether by flares or stuffing them with nearby items can do the trick.

Second is bribery. We aren't restricted to the environment like in the game and throughout the facility there are intact vending machines. The toys obviously need to eat but seem unable get into the machines. YOU CAN.

Break the glass and stockpile as much snacks as possible. Finding bags or boxes to carry them wouldn't be hard. Offer these to the little Critters in exchange for DogDay. You can open one bag for further incentive as the chance to get a special treat is something no one will be able to resist.

DogDay might be able to drag himself so breaking the chains with the Grab Pack or a different tool is possible. They are probably rusty thus easier to break. It will obviously hurt for DogDay to drag his body so stealing something like a cushion from CatNap's hideyhole could ease the pain.

Should that not be the case then other options are available. Considering Playcare is a fun house, you might be able to find scooterboards or a platform cart to carry him. If not then a makeshift sled to pull DogDay about is the next best move.

Now there's actually another escape route. A duck ride that you couldn't access in the game due to bugs. I think Mob was planning for a chase down there as it is fully fleshed out with puzzles and an environment.

DogDay can hold onto the boat while you solve the puzzles to get out. For those who hadn't chosen bribery then flares will keep pursuing Little Critters away. Maybe set a fire as you escape since there's plenty of items to make a molotov cocktail if crafty enough.

I suggest finding some walkie talkies as someone needs to look after DogDay. The area under the statue can be a possible safe spot but being able to contact Kissy Missy and Poppy will better the chances of his recovery than just survival. Both know the factory's inner works enough to remain hidden so they might know where to find supplies. A possible ally with valuable info can sway them to help.

There is also the option of coming back to Playcare. DogDay might still be alive as you can hear his muffled cries during the chase. He might be worse for wear due to the little menaces piloting him like a bootleg Megazord. Walkie talkies can help you page Kissy Missy to help with escorting the Bigger Body safely.

It is possible to save DogDay if you are smart or crafty enough to use the environment. The factory offers a lot of potential options to help with that. Do know that you can turn a simple water gun into a flamethrower.

Why follow the rules of the game when there are ways to break them?

#sonicasura #tales of sonicasura #poppy playtime #ppt #smiling critters #dogday #poppy playtime dogday #poppy playtime chapter 3 #poppy playtime deep sleep #poppy playtime smiling critters #writing ideas #writing prompts #sorta #inspiration #save the doggo #poppy playtime spoilers

[stevesbipanic]

For the lovely @withacapitalp happy birthday Liam hope you have the best day today!!!!

Steve had been pacing around the apartment all morning. Well, pacing wasn't really the right word, Eddie would describe it more like having the same zoomies their cat Toothpaste has at 3am.

You see today was–"It's Robin Day, Eds!" As his lovely boyfriend had practically screamed in his ear at 5am. "And it will still be Robin day when you return from your job at a normal waking hour, babe."

Eddie had hoped the jog would've gotten some of the energy out of Steve's system but he seemed more hyper on his return, at least he'd brought Eddie coffee.

"Love, Robin isn't even on the plane yet."

"I know, but it's today, Eds."

Steve looked so bright it made all of Eddie's sleepiness fade away. It had been hard, living away from Robin. They'd all shared an apartment when she went away for college but by the time she got a job in New York, Steve and Eddie were not only dating finally but settled into Chicago life.

They spoke every day of course, Robin and Steve never missed a nightly catch up of the day's events, Eddie didn't even know what they'd talk about once they were in the same state again. Eddie knew Robin would always be Steve's number one and he loved that about him.

There was one other thing about today though. "Sweetheart, you know it's not just Robin Day, right?"

Steve looked confused at his boyfriend, kind of like the way a puppy looks when you move his toy.

"What could be more important about today than that."

Eddie began humming a specific tune wrapping his arms around Steve's waist. "Oh, right, my birthday, 24 isn't exactly a big deal Eds," Steve said rolling his eyes.

Eddie laughed, "Your birthday is the reason Robin's coming, sunshine, plus after the number of times we've both almost died I think every birthday is a big deal."

Steve nodded his head and returned the embrace Eddie had been giving him, "True, you think you're gonna have a quarter life crisis in August, Mr 25?"

Eddie grinned, "Oh yeah, I think imma buy a guitar and start a band." Steve laughed, while Corroded Coffin never got famous they got relatively well known in the local scene, Tuesdays were now a regular gig at The Squire downtown.

"Four hours til she lands," Steve said kissing Eddie's cheek and running upstairs to make sure the guest room was ready for the tenth time. "Still not on the plane yet!" Eddie called up laughing.

Four and a half hours later their loving room was filled with laughter and joy once more. "And then the guy asked the flight attendant for another ginger ale and Steve this man was looking green and you know how I don't deal with sick people well I'm surprised I survived the flight at all," Robin rambled filling Steve in on her flight from hell.

"Honestly, you should just move back here, save yourself the flight," Steve joked. Robin glanced at Eddie, one little birthday surprise they hadn't told Steve yet.

"Actually, my contract is ending in two weeks, and um, they offered to extend it at...their Chicago office."

Steve was frozen, if Eddie didn't know better he'd think Vecna had returned from the dead to finish them off after all these years. Then the screaming started.

"YOU'RE MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

"I'M MOVING BACK TO CHICAGO!"

Pretty soon everyday would be Robin Day and with his boy looking that happy Eddie wouldn't want it any other way.

#happy birthday liam!!!! #and hehe the brief return of toothpaste the cat #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #stobin #with a capital p #ficlet

[sophie-frm-mars]

The Cass Review, and what we can do about it

The UK government is making decisive moves toward banning trans healthcare outright. The NHS says it is adjusting its policies to be in line with the "cass report", a pseudoscientific report written by a transphobe that goes as far as to claim that little boys playing with trucks and little girls playing with dolls is biological, and which disregards dozens of scientifically sound previous studies into HRT and trans healthcare in order to reach its conclusions that trans healthcare for under 25s should be radically changed to discourage transition at every turn and make it as hard as possible for young people to transition.

These moves will kill countless young trans people. I would not have made it to 25 if healthcare wasn't available and I know so many other trans people wouldn't have either.

The mainstream reporting in the UK is keeping itself ideologically cohesive by claiming that trans people exist, nobody hates them, and they're very rare, and the big problem is the explosion of new cases of not-really-trans people who are clogging up the system (this is a lie, the system has been intentionally slowed by malicious neglect, it isn't even a resource issue, the clinics have far more capacity than the number of patients who are let through)

Once again, this is genocidal and is actually a commonplace methodology of genocide. The nazis asked GRT people to help them understand which Traveller families were "real" travellers and which were the fake ones, since they insisted it was only the fake ones who were the problem and who had to be exterminated (because a lot of nazi GRT policy was based on American indigenous reservation policy).

Labour, the main opposiiton party in the UK, has announced it will "follow the Cass Report", and implement these restrictions on trans healthcare once in government.

For the survival of young trans people, robust community structures must be developed immediately.

Efforts to change the electoral situation will proceed at a snail's pace and will be entirely at the whims of what is politically expedient. It will turn around, but it will take a long time. At the voting level, everyone in the UK who cares about trans people needs to make it clear that they won't vote for Labour unless they reverse position on this, and to be clear about this: Labour will not listen. They are PR Brained Psychopaths and they don't want to get into this "controversial" issue in a way that might cost them further popularity and the easy election win.

Wes Streeting, inhuman lab experiment and Labour Shadow Health Secretary has said that activists need to "stop protesting to ask us to be better opposition and start protesting to ask us to be better government", in other words their electoral promises are cynical reactionary bargains and deals to get them into power and the only point at which they will change anything is once they are in government, if at all. I know this sounds very "push Biden left" but I'm not saying give up now - to repeat, everyone who cares about trans people in the UK should tell Labour to get fucked right away, and then keep doing it as loudly as possible, but it's just not going to change until after the general election at least.

Another way to help could be through legal routes, like the work that The Good Law Project has been doing for trans people for several years now, but I don't know enough about the law to know if it can be used to challenge this at all.

We have to accept there is no electoral solution right now to this genocidal campaign against trans people in the UK, and while those efforts are ongoing trans people and cis allies need to fucking organise. Trans exclusive / separatist organising is riddled with issues, I don't want to cast hopelessness around but there are really very few of us and while it's absolutely necessary to privilege trans voices in trans organising and give us the deciding power and the autonomy, we need to utilise the support and time and labour of every cis person who is willing to help in whatever way they can.

Robust community structures means community structures that are helping young trans people get healthcare as an absolute basic starting point, but it means a lot more than that besides. We need community structures that are consciously organised by people who are taking responsibility for the community roles they are in and being completely explicit with each other about the nature and function of their organising. We need HRT community resources so young trans people can survive this medical segregation, we need drug user harm reduction spaces so that what people turn to in despair doesn't kill them, we need sober spaces so that people can get away from unhealthy coping responses, we need conflict resolution structures so that our problems are dealt with privately and nobody is left completely isolated, but more than any of those things, and in order to have all of those things, we desperately need trans assemblies

Assemblies are how we will get a community of robust radical organisers, because only by repeatedly practicing the ongoing process of democracy can people learn how to do it in a way that will facilitate their own organising. We have to empower the whole community to answer our own questions, come up with solutions, organise people into structures to enact those solutions and then do them. All this means is that an open door event convenes frequently (at least fortnightly) to discuss what is happening in the community. Trans people get the mic for allotted time, and discuss the issues, and then whatever voting structure the assembly uses facilitates further discussion, for example through working groups - the assembly breaks into smaller groups to discuss the topic and then representatives report the outcomes of those discussions back and consensus is reached from what the representatives report.

We have to get people engaging in this process because in order to effectively combat this situation trans people must agree on the solutions and then tell cis allies how to help and so far we haven't been doing that. We really really haven't been. But we could be with a little work. And as I'm saying, doing this will also empower everyone in the community to organise toward specific solutions for specific issues like HRT provision, sober spaces, housing, food, etc.

fuck

I'll have more to add to this post later I have to get to therapy I just got really mad when I saw the news this morning

#transgender #uk #genocide #organising

[trashytoastboi]

Can I request headcanons of Luffy, Zoro, Sanji and Ace with a sleepy head S/O? They just love sleeping and taking naps.

Hiya! Sure thing! My apologies for the long wait on your request and hope you enjoy ~

Headcanons: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace with Sleepy head S/O – They just love sleeping and taking naps

> (Gender Neutral) <

Monkey D. Luffy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🍖 Luffy could always find {Name} in their favorite nap spot. They had developed little napping corners, all throughout various places on the ship. Some were cozy, others unusual. Luffy initially found it to be entertaining like a game every time he had to seek out another new place that {Name} dubbed as their sleeping spot. He had even adopted some to be his own sleeping corners that he would share a refreshing nap or two with {Name} especially after a big meal. He didn't understand how one could sleep so often but nevertheless, {Name} had their moments of energy. Although everyone could agree it was an unusual match up considering how low energy {Name} is compared to the ever energetic Luffy. 

🍖 Luffy loves that {Name} is so trusting of him that he could move them around in their sleep and instinctively they’ll know it's him and won't wake nor stir. Simply entrust themselves to him. That trust is a precious thing to Luffy, and he would never seek to betray it. Out of curiosity they had tested if it worked with anyone else on the crew and with the exception of Chopper, no one else was able to even touch {Name} without waking them up. Knowing that they don’t stir or get disturbed Luffy is still always careful when handling them while sleeping. 

🍖 It goes without saying that naps are a daily occurrence, {Name} enjoys napping with Luffy. It’s a two in one, they get to sleep and spend time with their beloved. How could they possibly pass that up? Especially after a delicious meal served by Sanji, a satisfied stomach makes the eyes heavy. {Name} already heads to their spot of the day and Luffy follows. I mean nothing beats a post meal nap, and it’s only got all the upsides. He does find it surprising that {Name} can easily sleep more than Zoro but when you’re tired, you're tired. He’s understanding of that given the amount of times he would see Ace just fall asleep in the middle of things. He wouldn't even wait until after the meal until he was passing out.

🍖 Luffy has tested how deeply they sleep. He’s poked, prodded, tickled, raised a ruckus and yet they slept through it all. Honestly you’d need that kind of deep sleep to survive the craziness of the Straw-Hat crew. He also finds it adorable how they koala to him. If they sense that Luffy is near they’ll stretch, shuffle and pull him into a surprise snuggle. Which 99% of the time also results in Luffy deciding to take a nap too. 

🍖 Luffy can tolerate a lot, but there are some sleep habits that just don’t fly with him. He can tolerate the blanket stealing, snoring and cold feet. But the sleep talking- specifically sleep talking about food is just one of the worst habits {Name} has. It makes Luffy so unbearably hungry that he has to go and find food as soon as possible, even if it means getting through Sanji and the padlocked fridge. 

🍖 {Name’s} sleeping habits, believe it or not have actually gotten a lot better. One of the trickiest things to deal with, was {Name} falling asleep in the middle of fights. One second they’re dominating, next someone is yelling to rescue them before they’re injured because they decided to stop, drop and nap right on the spot. The only saving grace was that their adversary was so stunned that they just stopped fighting momentarily, which gave Luffy an opportunity to save his partner and take them to safety. Which usually entailed tossing them as gently as he could to some random corner. 

Roronoa Zoro

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

⚔️ Zoro never thought he’d meet someone who shares his need to nap. If not more so, he appreciates that they understand. Who can refuse the true beauty of a good solid nap, you wake refreshed and energized, sometimes a little hungry but right as rain. Sleep was the magic cure all, and {Name} embodied that. When awake they were sleepy, yawning and dazed as if they were constantly on the verge of going to bed. Zoro finds it charming in his way, and {Name’s} constant bedhead is something he also finds quite adorable. He’s even gotten to the point of being able to rate the quality of their naps based on their bed hair. A neat little party trick. Not that he could say he’s met someone that sleeps that match, so he likens his partner to a cat because that’s the only creature that comes to his mind that naps as much as {Name}

⚔️ All of Zoro’s napping spots became {Name’s} napping spot and underwent a metamorphosis, to become extra comfortable. A whole upgrade, things were far more comfortable than Zoro thought possible. {Name} had the magic touch, Zoro swears that he had never in his life ever slept that comfortably. His partner was genuinely happy that they could make his naps, along with theirs a little more peaceful and accommodating. Hell, even Franky swore left and right that they must use sorcery because he couldn’t see HOW it made any sense. {Name} has often said that to understand the art of sleep, one must sleep a lot. 

⚔️ Zoro wasn’t much of a cuddler, not at first at least. He would fall asleep his usual way, on his back with his hands behind his head. Sometimes he’d be holding his swords and other times he’d just lay on his side on the deck. {Name} would scoot, shuffle and shift until they were snug against him, comfortably and using Zoro’s chest as their pillow. They said it was the best pillow and it was hard to nap without. Eventually Zoro got so used to them, that he just always fell asleep expecting {Name} to eventually join him. Oddly enough Zoro discovered he was quite the big fan of snuggling. Having them in his arms, and feeling the warmth of another person was so comforting. Unless there was a heatwave, being the only exception when {Name} didn’t cuddle up with him. 

⚔️ Zoro never knew whether to be impressed, entertained or creeped out by the fact that {Name} could hold full conversations in their sleep. They’d said it’s all basic and autopilot answers. There were plenty of times when they weren’t supposed to be sleeping and at least being able to answer questions and speak saved them a lot. If someone tried to wake them they would simply reply “I’m not sleeping, just resting my eyes.” The most common excuse in the book is that someone would ask a second question and [Name} would respond, even going as far as being able to make small talk. All for the preservation of a good nap.. 

⚔️ Constricting. Zoro absolutely detested this strange sleep habit of his partners. For literally no reason, their cuddles would turn into crushing death grip, strangle holds and gentle arms turned into constricting snakes that would have Zoro being crushed. He thought it was related to dreams, nope. Come hell or high water, good dreams or bad. {Name} would get these random moments when they would just tighten their grip and send Zoro into mild panic until he wakes them up or slips out of their hold. Now it’s just a thing that happens and he handles it easily, the first few times however were nothing short of terrifying.

⚔️ Well Zoro has had his fair share of badly timed naps, during a crisis when he’s napping so soundly. But one thing he wishes {Name} would work on, is having no sense of crisis. Mid fight and they’re eepy? Sleep. The amount of fights he’s had to undertake with {Name} slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. If not that, then falling asleep in the bath and literally fearing for his partner drowning because they decided to take a quick nap in the bathtub. 

Sanji

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🍽 Cute, so cute, adorable- precious. Sanji has many adjectives to explain his partner, not that they ever do any justice because {Name} exceeds them. He thinks their sleepiness is adorable. Sounds odd, but seeing how they yawn, eyes barely open and they waddle towards Sanji to hug him and wish him a good morning, nuzzling into his chest as the warmth lulls them back to sleep. Sanji is literally trembling from how cute that is. “{Name-chan} You should go back to bed.” He helps them back to bed, and even prepares the usual. {Name} gets an exemption from the dining table to enjoy a leisurely breakfast in bed, benefits when one’s boyfriend is the chef. 

🍽Absolutely adores what a snuggle bug they are. Sanji loves it. If he’s cooking they’ll usually hug him, leaning into him while he’s busy. They’re half asleep mumbling half asleep answers, occasionally being fed bites to taste test while Sanji deciphers and translates based on their hums and mumbles. If he’s sitting down, they want to use his lap as a pillow, if in bed, they’re snuggling him. Sometimes they intentionally seek Sanji out, pouting until he agrees to join them in a nap just so they can cuddle him. He loves the affection. 

🍽 {Name} has gotten Sanji into the habit of taking naps too, in the small time gap after lunch and before dinner. Sanji originally didn’t see the appeal, only if he had a poor night's sleep, then he’d do it for a boost of energy. Ever since {Name}, naps were his daily ritual. His little bit of me time, and thankfully he convinced {Name} to sleep in relatively normal places. Some of their previous places were questionable if not downright dangerous. One long lecture later, they shuffled around until napping spots got Sanji approved. 

🍽 Sanji discovered the greatest joy he has. {Name} who is always extra ravenous after waking up from a nap. They say food always tastes better after a nap and eat whatever Sanji serves up with such enthusiasm that it genuinely touches his heart. He loves being able to cook and prepare light meals, snacks, anything they crave really after a particularly good nap. Even with their sleepy and low energy selves they express such clear excitement for whatever Sanji cooks up. 

🍽 Sanji has very little to complain about when sharing a bed with them at night, the only thing he’ll probably say was tricky to get used to was how much {Name] moves around in their sleep. They change sleeping positions every so often, occasionally banishing the pillow from the bed unintentionally or throwing the blanket off, Sanji always wakes up to return their pillow and cover them again. This happens a few times a night, even if they’re cuddling sometimes {Name} will very abruptly change their sleeping position and smack Sanji in the face, giving him a nosebleed. (Oh the irony) 

🍽 Sanji was wholly curious about what would happen should {Name} not sleep as much for a day. Satisfying his curiosity they didn’t nap and it was hard. They were so groggy and tired it made them sluggish. They grew irritable beyond belief, and grumpy. They would hug Sanji everytime they walked past but instead of enjoying it, they would leave almost immediately saying it would make them sleepy. Sanji knew that naps were like snickers to his partner. Because {Name} wasn’t themselves without having a nap. 

Portgas D. Ace

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔥 Ace is very high energy, he is always in go mode. Ironically until he has those sudden naps that recharge him for his next bout. {Name} found that relatable and cute on Ace’s behalf. Meeting while he napped in his soup probably wouldn’t make the best first impression to most. {Name} reassured him it's quite alright. It happens to them often too. Ace took it as a joke, not exactly knowing that it was almost the truth. {Name} is so sleepy all the time, that a couple of instances of falling asleep in their food was actually pretty commonplace. Ace thinks it’s cute though.

🔥 {Name} loves sleeping with Ace, he’s always warm and loves cuddling as much as they do. Ace enjoys seeing them so peaceful and undisturbed, he strokes their head to calm them and it works. It soothes {Name}, anytime they’re with Ace and he starts doing that, it’s guaranteed that they will fall asleep. He knows it too, he doesn’t mind if they fall asleep though. Ace takes it as a sign of their trust in him, enough to fall asleep near him and entrust them with their safety. That trust is something precious to Ace even if it stems from something like sleeping near him, he still values it. 

🔥 {Name} will occasionally ‘kidnap’ Ace to join in their afternoon naps. One minute he’s socializing with the crew, the next {Name} is sprouting up out of nowhere trying to drag him to their favorite napping spot, which of course is decided at the time. In consideration of a few key factors, such as the weather, the sun, the wind, comfort factor, and {Name’s} mood of the day. Do they want an indoor nap? Outdoor? Is it cold or hot? 

🔥 One of the most entertaining things for the crew to witness is Ace trying to escape from {Name} after they’ve fallen asleep. Him trying to stealthily slip out of their grasp and every time they stir, threatening to wake up he freezes. Holds his breath in this game of red light, green light until he’s finally free. Eventually he shuffles a pillow closer to act as his body double as {Name} snuggles into it and goes on sleeping without a care in the world. 

🔥 An annoying sleep habit that {Name} has is ‘mood swings’ in a sense, one minute they want cuddles, snuggles and fine, the next, they want their own space and roll away from Ace or violently boot him out of bed (All unintentionally), Ace never knows when the mood will shift. One moment he snuggles, the next he dodges an elbow, a knee, a foot and resorts to sleeping on the cold side of the bed, banished to the forsaken realms until [Name} is rolling back towards him.

🔥 Ace learned to deal with his adorable partner who just curls up and sleeps on any comfy surface, even if it’s an inappropriate place that could potentially be dangerous. The amount of times he believed his heart would give out when he saw half of the strange and perilous places his partner fell asleep in. Ace had the tendency to worry about them and made {Name} promise that even if they’re tired they have to hold on endure until they get to a comfortable and safe location above all. 

#luffy #sanji #ace #zoro #trashytoastboi #one piece #fluff #sfw #one piece imagines #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #one piece headcanon #portgas d ace #op sanji #monkey d luffy #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #luffy x reader #one piece scenario #one piece headcanons #black leg sanji #kuroashi no sanji

[httpsghostie]

Under one Roof pt 1

pt 2

OK finally IT'S HERE

smh I'm down bad for roommate ghost I am sobbing

my hand is literally burning I wrote this aT COLLEGE

and YES my love language is food pls dont come for me

Summary: you never knew you needed a military roommate until you've got one.

Word Count: 1k (sorry it's short

Warnings: roommate!ghost x female!reader, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mentions of trauma, fluff/comfort, no use of y/n

masterlist

Ghost was an old friend of a friend of yours, and he happened to be needing a place to stay for a while, that ended up being a few more months, and now it's currently been a year since he moved in. He doesn't plan on leaving, you know it, you know that despite the independent man that he is, he likes having someone to come home to.

He was cold at first, so cold. And for many nights you cursed yourself for letting that rock of a heart get into your sweet home. He wouldn't talk much when he was there, you'd almost forget he was around if it wasn't for random coughs or sneezes.

That man smoked like a chimney in the first days he's spent around, he was anxious and that wasn't very cute, he was always smelling like cigarettes, but thankfully he didn't smoke inside.

He appreciated your effort on cooking for the two of you, but you couldn't help it. How could he survive when he wasn't eating properly? Yes, frozen pizza is cool… until it's the third day in a row that you're eating frozen and instant food and you can barely stand.

He also had a fucked up sleeping schedule that you just went along with it, you once got scared when you walked in the kitchen and found him just laying on the wall, eyes closed and snoring slightly. That day you scolded him to go back to his room and made him lay down on the bed.

"You're gonna lay down on this bed and you're gonna have some nice hours of sleep, alright? I'm gonna leave the door open, if I see you awake I'm punching you." You sounded like a mother, almost, and he was so tired he couldn't fight back.

And the days went by, he'd go away, he'd come back as tired as he left. But at least he was slowly opening up to be a really cool guy. You two started to bond, and the more he talked, the more you wanted to spend time with him.

Oh and don't even get started on dad jokes, he's cracking them up whenever he's helping with house chores, or when you two are eating peacefully.

He became a friend, a very good friend, one that wouldn't mind you venting out to, plus he was a good listener. He'd just sit there listening to whatever haze your brain was going through, and slowly he learned that he shouldn't be giving you reasonable ways to solve your problems, he should just tell you it would be ok.

And you found yourself slowly falling for him. Of course destiny had to put you together. Only if it wasn't for the way he handled things around the house.

"Oh, the living room lamp broke? Let me fix it."

"Those boxes are heavy, hand them to me."

"Go find a movie for us to watch, I'll do the dishes. Find a good one, though."

"Goddamnit, I told you not to be climbing on that fucking balcony, you're not a cat, you're gonna hurt yourself one day." Said as he picked you up when you were trying to reach the top of the cabinet. "Just ask me, I can reach it without putting myself in danger."

Or maybe if it wasn't for the fact that he'd purposefully get out of the shower with that pretty little towel wrapped around his body, that made you clench your fists. The way he was still a bit wet, a few drops running down his abs. He was surprisingly cool with his scars around you, maybe because you didn't make a big deal out of it.

That's because it wasn't. You expected that when Gaz, your friend, told you that the friend he was sending to you was his 'work buddy'. And he phrased it exactly like that. 

"Don't mind him, he's big and scary, but he'll be a good roommate, I promise, he's my work buddy." You chuckled when you read the text.

And yet Ghost didn't mind the stare of admiration coming from your burning gaze across the living room, when you thought the most ungodly things a brain has seen.

He started to become more and more warm, he found safe with you, like you could actually be his home. One night, he found a deep conection with you when you were casually drinking together, sat by the coffee table, playing video games. 

She should know the truth about me.

He thought. And that was the night he dropped his heavy armor. He told you the bare surface of his past, even though most of it had been blocked from his memory, like a dark spot he couldn't remember, and would die without trying to take a peak at it.

You cried, and he couldn't understand why you were crying until you said it wasn't his fault.

"It's not your fault, you didn't deserve any of this." You sobbed, hugging him close.

He broke down. Like he needed someone to reassure him that he wasn't the villain from his past. He realized what you meant to him, and he swore to God he would try his best to come home to you when he had to work.

Some days were strange after that, like he regretted telling you about his story. He had that feeling in his gut that you weren't looking at him the same way, like you were pity. He didn't want your pity, he hated that look on your face.

But that changed.

He had come home one day, texting you while he was at the airport waiting for a ride. You ran to get groceries and make him a good meal, but the only thing that came to your mind was the old recipe of lasagna you kept from your grannie.

That old lady, always saving your life.

#cod mw2 #ghost cod #cod fanfic #cod mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost simon riley #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost #ghost call of duty

[bestpigeon]

We can have a yandere Alastor with an angel reader... After Charlie went to heaven, the angel reader was moved by his proposal to save the demons... So to help Charlie the reader went to the hazbin hotel... What no one counted on is that Alastor fell in love with the angel reader... Now what would happen?

STOP. That's a great idea, oh my god. Thank you so much for this recommendation!

___________________________________________

YANDERE ALASTOR X MALE READER

Yandere alastor x male reader

___________________________________________

The meeting has just finished. I've been ordered to save the demons. Nothing more. Why would anyone wish to save these foul beasts? At least I'm getting paid. Me and Charlie were still in heaven. I turn to her.

"Charlie, follow me, yes?" I say in a professional tone.

"Yeah! I'm ready. What's your name again?" She says with a huge smile. I had no clue demons could be this.. joyful, happy, nice? But I didn't question it.

"Y/N. Now let's go," I say as I turn my head and open a portal up in front of us. I'm a very well-known and trusted angel in heaven. How would I survive on hell? Charlie's eyes glow in awe once I open the portal. I indicated for her to walk in and walk in behind her.

We show up outside the 'Hazbin hotel'. Adam told me a lot about this place. He said that it's a 'worthless ugly shithole that you should definitely sabotage.' Which I doubt I'd actually listen to his advice.

"So! This is the hotel. I hope you feel welcome!" Charlie says as she grabs my hand, opens the door, and leads me in.

She pulls me in, and I automatically feel eyes on me. I rub the back of my head awkwardly. "Charlie- may I specify im only here to help one of you demons. Nothing more." I say as I turn to make eye contact with Charlie. She smiled and laughed awkwardly.

"Still! Couldn't harm introducing you to others. We wouldn't want you to feel unwelcome!" She smiles brightly and looks at me. I raise an eyebrow before she pulls me along to a bar. Jesus, this girl is..pushy. Nice, though, thankfully.

"This is Husker! He's our bartendant. " I smile warmly at Husk and lead my hand out for him to shake. "Pleasure to meet you." I say with a nod. He nods as well and takes my hand without a word.

Charlie taps me on the shoulder and points me over to a corner. "That's Angel dust, the one you're-" I quickly recognise him.

"He's the one I'm here for, right?" I say quite rudly interesting, Charlie. I didn't notice, and I just glared at Angel. "Yeah..! Um. He's a bit-" she gets once again interrupted by someone else this time.

"Oh honey! Who's this cutie?~" Angel dust says as he approaches me. He leans on the desk and smirks at me.

"Angel.. this is Y/N! He's an angel here to help you get into heaven!" She says with a smile. Angel raises an eyebrow and smirks once again. "Wow, didn't know they have good lookin' people in heaven." He says, eyeing me up and down. I smile awkwardly.

"I apologise but I'm not interested. I'm only here for work." I say as I bow my head down slightly to apologise. Charlie grabs my hand and leads me to a weird red demon in a corner.

"Anyways! This is Alastor! He's a huge help to the company." She says as she leads me to him. She whispers quietly I my ear. "Don't make any deals or trust him. Okay!- Alastor this Y/N! Here to help angel dust." She says. I don't even get time to reply to Charlie. I take in what she says.

Alastor grabs my hand and shakes it with quite aggression. I smile awkwardly. "It's a pleasure to meet you! Quite a pleasure!" He says, his voice was something you'd hear from a radio, a static affect.

"It's nice to meet you too." I say. This guy is weird. His bright red eyes seemed to squint at me. I didn't know whether that's because I'm an angel or something else. I didn't bother to ask.

"How long you hear for dear?" He questions as he moves a hand to my shoulder. I look at him and raise an eyebrow. He sure is a touchy guy.

"Until I successfully send angel dust to heaven. I'm not sure how long." I say as I just glare at Alastor. He's different. His aura seemed different, I sense something different in him. I don't know why.

"Ah well! Consider this a..warm welcome" He says as he leans down slightly. We keep eye contact without saying anything for a while. I feel my face growing a faint red tint. Not enough for Alastor to notice, I hope.

"I.. appreciate it, Alastor," I say awkwardly. Charlie grabs me again and turns me around.

"So, how do you intend to help Angel dust?" She says with her usual huge smile. It still confuses me how.. pure Charlie seems. However, I know looks are deciding.

"Well, simply prevent him from committing any sins for a while. Then, sooner or later, he'll be accepted into heaven." I say with a smile. I could feel someone eyeing me. I knew who it was. The weird red demon stood a few feet behind us, clearly listening to our conversation. I didn't say anything to know. I'd definitely keep my eye on him.

"Cool! I'll let you get settled in!" She says as she walks away. I sigh, finally having alone time. Being around this mnay demons makes me nervous. I flap my wings around before hiding them. I wipe down my white suit and fix my hair.

I feel a hand on my shoulder. I whip my head to be greeted with Alastor. I turn fully to him and glare up at him. He's taller than me by a little. "So, my dear, shouldn't we get to know each other? It'll be rude not to!" He says in a joyful tone. That's a bit peculiar, but I couldn't say no.

"Sure, ask away," I say. He grabs my wrist. What is it with being dragged? Is that what demons do? He leads me to his office. He said it's because we can then speak privately. I didn't really trust it.

"So..what do ya want to know?" I question as I take a seat. I glare at Alastor. He chuckles, his signature grin never left. It's a bit intimidating to be facing such a.. smile like his.

"How are you feeling in hell, hm?" He says as he crosses his legs. He sips his tea out of his mug that read, 'Oh dear'. I questioned quietly why he had a mug like that, and then I realised he's a dear.

"Good. It's alright, not as bad as I.. thought it'll be." I say as I also cross my legs. He raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

"You dating anyone?" He completely changed subjects, but I didn't question it. It's a bit of a weird question to ask.

"Um, no. Not currently." I say quietly. He nods. I noticed his smile got bigger. Biggest I've ever seen it, actually. He stood up and approached me. He stood in front of me, and I didn't look up. He grabbed my chin and made me make eye contact with him. My face went a little red. "Good. Keep it that way." He says before removing all types of contact and sitting back down in his chair.

"I- okay?" I say confused. What a weird way to approach that. I didn't question it. I mean, I didn't mind it. In reality, I shouldn't react that way towards a demon.

-3 days later-

Angel and I have finished doing some angelic tasks. Some that I hope to help his journey to heaven. He said he had work to do and walked into a studio. I walked away and bumped into a demon accidentally.

"Oh- my apologies ma'am," I say before checking if she's alright. She whistled at me before grabbing my hand.

"And why haven't I seen a handsome fellow like you around these areas, hm?~" she says as she gets incredibly close to me. I chuckle awkwardly and push her away slightly.

She rolls her eyes and walks away. She walks in front of me and pushes me out of the way in the process. I sighed and rolled my eyes. She soon dissappears down some alley way. I heard a huge gasp before a muffled scream. I quickly went to check to she if she was alright.

I walk around the corner, and my eyes widen in shock. I gasp loudly. I see the lady decapitated on the floor with blood surrounding her. I put a hand on my mouth before walking a bit deeper into an alleyway. I suddenly get pinned to a wall. My eyes widened when I realised who it was.

"Alastor?- what-" I say before getting interrupted by a finger getting put on my mouth to shush me.

"Hush, Y/N. She shouldn't have.. approached you like that. She got what she deserved." He says. I look at him and, for some reason, feel my face grow a little rd. Why was I attracted to this? I shouldn't be.

"I won't harm you. No one deserves to touch a.. divine darling like you.." He whispers in my ear. He moves his finger to actually touch my lips and makes me taste the blood on his fingers. I taste it all while making eye contact with him.

"How is it, sweetheart?" He whispers seductively in my ears. I feel my heart jump outside of my chest.

"Good.." I say in almost a whisper. He chuckles handsomely and licks blood off one of his other fingers. I feel my face go a little redder than before. If that's possible.

"Look what you made me do..not much of an angel know, huh?" He chuckles seductively. He's right. I've tasted blood. That's..not what angels should do. I didn't care if that meant I'm with Alastor.

I grab the back of his hair and pull his mouth an inch from mine. "Guess I'm.. not so angelic as I thought." I say quietly before pulling him into a kiss. The kiss was passionately almost instantly. We made out passionately, and none of us wanted to surrender. Huh. Guess I'm not going to heaven.

Neither of us wanted to stop this moment. Somehow, his tongue slithered into my mouth too. He pulls away, not before biting my bottom lip, making my lip bleed. We gasp for breath before he leans into my ear and talks. "You make me insane dear. I've never killed anyone like this before.. you make me..crave you."

I feel myself getting more mesmerised the more I look into his eyes. "It's an honour, Al. You..make me want to fuck heaven over and come to this shit hole. For you, sweetheart." He chuckles, and I can see his smile widen. It seemed genuine.

"Maybe you should. Would hurt to.. have some company dear."

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I LOVE alastor so much omg. Thank you for recommending this omg.

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