#i may have to think of a new way of doing this next time

[luveline]

Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him. 

“Super what?” you ask. 

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes. 

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically. 

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.” 

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask. 

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” 

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later. 

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry. 

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him. 

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee. 

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them. 

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far. 

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.” 

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.” 

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before. 

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed. 

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed. 

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” 

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.” 

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks. 

“Everything.” 

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.” 

“M’not perfect.” 

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point. 

“Your hair is really tickling me.” 

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.” 

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him. 

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says. 

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.” 

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.” 

“It’s so stupid.” 

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours. 

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks. 

You hum a yes. 

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?” 

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled. 

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?” 

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

[ithebookhoarder]

Hello hi ! 🤗

Can you do a "bau reacts" when they are undercover in public and about to be found out so the reader just starts making out with them to pretend they are just a couple?

(BAU Headcanons) Making out Undercover

A/N: Mwahaha. Oh, this is a good prompt. Thanks for making me daydream all afternoon. Enjoy my lovelies 😉 Also, as a note, I'm writing the main BAU where I'm at watching it (season 13) plus Luke as he was requested previously 💕

Warnings: Mentions of threat, mentions of weapons, alcohol references, sexual references, implied cases / unsubs. (Let me know if I missed any)

Aaron Hotchner

We know Aaron doesn’t go undercover for most cases, so this would have to be a big case to get him into the field. 

This man would be in shock. Let’s be real. He would freeze in place and try to argue for a split second until he realises what you’re trying to do and why - even if you were already together. 

As soon as they’re gone though, you’d glance up and see his usual steely glare that tells you you’re in for a scolding once this is over. 

However, you’d have to be blind to miss the way he lingers for a moment, holding you close for half a second longer than necessary. 

“I feel I should remind you that we are in the field, and whilst it may have worked, I can’t endorse it as a tactic in future. Understood?” 

“So I’m hearing that we’re leaving this off of our case report then?” 

“Agreed. I don’t need to give Strauss anything else to use to go after us and the team.”

He would roll his eyes and take off after the Unsub, but you’d have to be blind to miss the way he smirks as he goes. 

David Rossi 

He’d be a little embarrassed but mostly quite smug about the whole thing, even if you were supposed to be undercover. 

“Well, I can safely say in all my years in this field I don’t think that’s ever happened to me before.” 

He’d also refuse to let you apologise for your actions afterwards either. 

One, because he’s kind of flattered. 

Two, because he’s been around the block a few times and knows that sometimes you have to do what it takes to solve a case or protect yourselves. 

Three, you were supposed to be a couple and kissing is what couples do. He’s only sour because if anything he would have liked to be the one who kissed you. 

“Relax about it, would you? I won’t tell you some of the things Gideon and I had to do back in the old days. That was before all this new paperwork and guidelines, so that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” 

You make a point of remembering to ask him about that at your next night off over drinks. 

Derek Morgan

Derek is always up for anything so I feel like he’d be pretty relaxed about being undercover with you, even if you weren't together romantically. He has no issue playing your pretend boyfriend for one night, and is quick to wrap his arm around you. 

Which is why it would be such a surprise to him when it’s you who initiated the kiss. 

Derek would freeze for like a second, but only out of shock. However, you know he wouldn’t fight you on it. 

The second his brain catches up to his body he would be kissing you back, doing everything in his power to match your energy and sell this kiss. 

If anything, you’re going to have to be the one to break away once the coast is clear and remind him you’re still technically in the field and that your team is probably wondering where the hell you are right now - and why you stopped responding to your comms. 

“I’m just saying, if we get to do that then we need to be partnered up more often.” 

“Yeah yeah, Morgan. Let’s just hope Penelope didn’t see that else we’ll never be hearing the end of it.” 

Emily Prentiss

She’s been undercover plenty of times in her life and spent a whole chunk of time actually fake-married to Doyle for an op, so she’d be the most comfortable and understanding if you grabbed her for a kiss - especially if you were meant to be a fake couple. 

She’d work it out pretty quickly and would respond in kind, pressing herself against you and running her hands all over you. 

“Quick thinking with the kiss,” she’d whisper as she brushed a kiss against your neck. 

She’d also know exactly where the Unsub is afterwards too, having kept watch in her peripheral vision. 

She wouldn’t even have to break eye contact with you before she informed you, “3 o’clock. He just left out the fire exit.” 

With that, she’d be off. 

She also probably wouldn’t even bring it up again until you’re both back on the jet. Then she’d be smirking at you across the top of her drink and chuckling to herself. 

“Normally I’d insist dinner first but given that we caught that bastard I think we’re even.” 

JJ

JJ knows about going undercover and it takes a lot to rattle her. She would probably go along with the action, even if she’d stay kind of stiff for a good minute or so. 

However, she’s a good agent and knows about maintaining a cover so quickly catches on when you pull her in. 

She’d return the kiss, shooting glances out the corner of her eye when she thinks it might be safe to check on their target. If it doesn’t look like they’re buying it, she’ll turn things up a notch and spin you around so that she could take control. 

“My gun is under my jacket. Reach for it slowly if he comes any closer,” she’d warn, but thankfully you don’t need it. Eventually they leave, distracted by something else, leaving you and JJ to recover.

After catching your breath, you both take off in the direction your target just left in. You can tell JJ is trying not to laugh about what just happened, choosing to make it funny rather than uncomfortable if you weren't together romantically.  

Which means you know she’d enjoy teasing you about it in front of the others, making your cheeks burn as she announces on the jet: “For the record, even though it was a ‘cover kiss’ it was pretty good. Just saying. Maybe you should give Morgan some tips. That way he might get a girl to call him back after a first date.” 

Luke Alvez

It doesn’t matter if he’s ex-army or whatever. Undercover is not really Luke’s thing and even then, he is more used to infiltrating gangs than playing house. 

Basically, he would be surprised by your actions, despite being undercover together. Like, I can see his eyebrows hitting his hairline so fast, bless him. He’d look like a deer in headlights. 

“Woah, sweetheart, slow your roll-“ 

“- Luke. Shut up and kiss me. Now.” 

“I - ok.” 

Just like that, he’d take control, turning and pressing you against the nearest wall in an attempt to shield you from whoever was watching. He’d also be such a gentleman about it if you weren't already together romantically, keeping his hands on your waist and pulling away the minute he’s sure the danger has passed. 

Even then, he’d wait a minute before letting the two of you move from your position, just in case they come back. He’s your partner and he’s returning the favour for you keeping him safe, even if in an unsuspected manner.

“You good?”

“Luke. Shouldn’t I be asking you that? I was the one who planted myself on you.” 

“Potato, po-tah-to. Are they still over there?”

“No. They just left out the back.”

“Then let’s go, partner. Let’s catch this freak.” 

Penelope Garcia 

If Penelope is in the field then you know she is already hella nervous and out of her element. It doesn’t matter if there was a reason she was needed for this particular assignment, she would just take that as added pressure not to let everyone down.

Which is why I’m sure you’d feel worse about planting one on her - even if it does also help distract her from worrying for a minute.  

All I can imagine is her giving her trademark squeal of confusion and surprise, even if you gave her a hasty warning - and apology - about what you were going to do.

She’d be stunned at what was happening and probably takes a minute to realise she should probably try and kiss you back, or at least look less visibly startled about it. 

“I feel I should point out how unfair it is that this is permitted as ‘suitable workplace behaviour’ as we’re undercover, yet my flirtatious texts with Agent Morgan are not? I will be writing a strongly worded email when we get back, telling HR they can go shove their-”

“Pen? Hey, focus here. Unsub still watching us.” 

“Oh, right. Sorry! Ahem… as you were?”  

Also, you know that like a day or so later, once it’s all over, she sends you an email informing you that your new username on the BAU system is now ‘smoochykins’ and she will not change it until it becomes not-funny for her… which will probably be never. After all, Morgan has been ‘Chocolate Thunder’ for the last two years and is still going strong.  

Dr Spencer Reid

Spencer has been undercover before and is usually quite calm about it, even if it is faking a date or maintaining a story. Still, despite having to do your jobs, you’d hate to make him uncomfortable, knowing how he feels about any kind of physical contact - especially if you're not together. 

As he says, with the amount of bacteria shared by shaking hands you’d be safer kissing … guess it was time to take it literally. 

He’d be blushing like a tomato as you grab his jacket lapels and pull him close. And honestly? it’s kind of adorable. As is the way he tries to kiss you back, even if he still takes a minute to remember how to even move his body. 

I’m just picturing the Lila kiss in season one and how he eased into that and how stunned / embarrassed he seemed afterwards. He would pretty much be like that, but with a fake smile on his face as he rambled in your ear. 

“What was that?”

“I was covering our asses. We’re undercover, remember? We’re supposed to be a couple and couples kiss. Also, I’d thought you know, genius, that kissing and displays of public affection make people extremely uncomfortable.”

“No kidding… Morgan can never find out about this.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice. You got a deal, pretty boy. This is between us.” 

Masterlist

#ithebookhoarder #masterlist #thesilentmage #criminal minds x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner #david rossi x reader #david rossi x you #david rossi #derek morgan x you #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss #criminal minds #jennifer jareau x reader #jennifer jareau #luke alvez #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x you #penelope garcia x reader #penelope garcia #penelope garcia x you #spencer reid x you #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

your ghoul fics have me in a fuckin chokehold 😭😩 there's nothing i love more in life than a scary sexy man w questionable morals

not to be horny in anon but like... imagine the reader, after having been traveling together for a while, being an insufferable brat for a couple days, just tap dancing on coop's last nerve- but he's not gonna get rid of you, he's seen you in action, despite his lone-ranger status, you're too useful. too skilled. too good at surviving in the wasteland as a vaultie for this not to have been destined. at least that's what he tells himself to avoid facing the fact that, well, poor bastard caught feelings. basically this is a long winded way of me saying boot riding as punishment, cause the man deserves a free polish 😶

Grunt Work

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Female Vault Dweller Reader

Word Count: 3,920

Warnings: smut (18+), BDSM-style dynamics, boot riding, masturbation (male), begging, mild hair pulling, mild cum play, Cooper is a softie (but a pissed off softie).

Notes: Anon, I wish you would've been here to see me read this request for the first time. I think a small part of my brain exploded. How did this become 4,000 words? It may have turned out softer than you envisioned (not the first time I've given that preface/apology and it certainly won't be the last; The Ghoul is soft deep inside and you cannot tell me otherwise!), and if so, I hope you still enjoy. Thank you for reading!

Every day with this girl was an exercise in self-restraint.

Granted, the type of self-restraint varied greatly from day to day, hour to hour. From the moment he had agreed to do business with the vaultie, she'd been testing his patience, his boundaries, his sense of what was normal.

Generally, he quite liked it. It was actually endlessly refreshing, he found, to spend time with someone who treated him like he was human, who he felt comfortable enough to actually relax a bit around. Someone who still had some sunshine left in them. Slowly, agonizingly so, they'd developed a bit of a rapport, then a genuine trust, which had eventually (and somewhat recently, given the scope of all the months they'd been traveling together) bloomed into more. What you'd call that "more", he wasn't really certain.

It had been the first time he'd allowed himself any sort of dalliance in that area since he'd divorced Barb all those years ago, and it had been both amazing and heartbreaking. Establishing that new attachment with his little vaultie had been the first time in lifetimes that he truly felt connected to his humanity, the way she'd kissed him and clung to him and sighed his name just like one would with any normal man.

He really had forgotten how wonderful it could be to be with someone, to let them get as close as they possibly could, even though he looked the way he did, acted the way he did, and refused to take off anything besides his duster, his gloves, and his hat.

He knew, deep down somewhere, that she wouldn't reject him simply for what his body looked like. Not at this point. Unfortunately, her feelings about his body didn't really change his feelings about his body. Still, getting to feel her and hold her close had been even better than he'd imagined.

But that new moment of connection, that next and first step, also meant he was fully closing the door on his time with Barb; he'd always been faithful to her, even after they'd split, since he'd really had no interest in dating again in the time after the paperwork was finalized. Then the world had ended and wasn't even a thought in his mind for ages. It had taken him months to even see the advances the girl had been making towards him, months more to reciprocate them.

As asinine as it would seem, becoming this close, actually giving himself to someone else physically and emotionally, made his two-centuries old divorce finally feel real. His ex-wife could still well be out there somewhere, as far as he knew, but they'd never be together again, even if by some wild chance they were reunited. Those special feelings he'd once held so deeply for her were no more.

When his companion had finally fallen asleep that night, tucked naked and warm against his side and wrapped in the tail of his duster, he had shed a few tears, something he genuinely didn't believe he was still capable of.

She didn't seem to be sleeping as deeply as she typically did that night, but if she'd overheard his incredibly vulnerable moment, she never let on or brought it up, and he was endlessly grateful for it.

Maybe he was just growing soft with old age.

She was also quite the burgeoning Wastelander, a shockingly good scavenger with a sharp eye for value and utility, small enough to fit in places that he couldn't, her little hands quick at hacking terminals and picking locks. But, despite her small size, she was quite strong, able to handle herself far better in most fights than he'd ever expected a vault-dweller to be capable of. He didn't necessarily need to watch over her every single second, but the urge persisted, nevertheless. Seeing her safe, seeing her happy, those things gave him a strange sense of inner peace that he hadn't felt in ages. It had become second nature to hover around her.

Besides, as of late, keeping an eye on her every second seemed to be his best bet to stay alive. He was genuinely unsure if his girl (Was that what she was?) had been dealing with an especially bad streak of luck over the last week, or what, but she was rapidly grating on his nerves much more usual.

First, she had managed to nose her way into a yao guai den and set the thing off chasing her, resulting in him taking a pretty nasty swipe to the side before they could put it down, several foot-long tears in his already worse-for-wear coat. However, she'd apologized profusely, spent a few hours that night mending and patching up his coat. He found it impossible to stay mad at her through either.

Then, she'd done the exact same thing a few days later, but with a pack of nightstalkers. He'd nearly lost a finger helping her fight them off, the shitty little things infinitely more tough than one might expect. After that, she was officially no longer in charge of picking where they slept, an arrangement he hadn't been fully aware he'd entered into until he'd had to put his foot down about it. Whatever, she'd pouted a bit and insisted it wasn't her fault. He didn't love how little she spoke to him when she was pouting, and her resolve for keeping at such things was irritatingly strong, but what bothered him more was how well it worked.

Eventually, he'd apologized for snapping at her. That night, she chose where they slept. He tried to not think too long on why he'd let her.

He didn't fully understand why he found himself acting this way around her, and only her. All he knew for sure was that he'd be devastated to lose her, as chagrined as the admission made him, and so he did his best to make things pleasant to keep her around.

What she'd pulled today, however, had managed to officially piss him off.

After a long week of iffy sleep and more scrapes with wildlife and fiends than usual, they had both been a tad testy by the time they'd reached the shabby little trading outpost at the edge of the Wastes, one of the last places you could reliably stop for clean water and supplies in this section of the desert going the way they'd come from. It was also a reliable place for him to obtain vials, and had come in handy to a life-saving degree more than once.

The girl had gotten slick-mouthed with the proprietor over the price of some fancy machine parts she'd scrounged up, insisting that they were worth far more than he was offering her. Granted, she was right; the man was attempting to swindle her, to some degree, but frankly, the damn things were cumbersome and heavy and he wouldn't even call the price she could theoretically get for them worth hauling them around in the heat. If it were him, he wouldn't have dragged them all this way, and would certainly ditch them now.

For reasons he couldn't fathom, though, her solution to the man offhandedly threatening to just keep the damn things had been to pull her pistol on him, which, of course, had set off an entire chain of unnecessary events. The owner's gun had come out, as well, then Cooper's, despite him actually trying to talk the situation down for once.

The man wouldn't relent, however, and he had been forced to shoot his hand off to end the conflict without her blood being spilled. Well, maybe not completely forced, but it certainly felt that way at the time. That particular trading outpost had been incredibly useful to him for well over a decade, and now he wouldn't be able to return.

If it had been anyone else, he probably would have shot them.

Not probably. He would have shot them.

But instead, here he was, tucked into a creaky old UV-eaten lawn chair, smoking and trying to disguise how unsettlingly happy he was to finally have some safe alone time with her beneath his annoyance at being inconvenienced. If there was one thing he hated, it was being inconvenienced. But, if there was one thing he greatly enjoyed, it was her company, so he was at a bit of an impasse.

It was moments like this where he wondered if he'd finally poisoned his brain with too much Jet or any other number of substances, the haze that consumed him every moment around her thick. Even now, when he was angrier with her than he'd ever been at any point in their travels, he couldn't focus on his legitimate grievance because he wanted her so badly. It was the single most irksome thing he'd ever experienced.

She was quickly sniffing out this weakness of his, perceptive little minx that she was. Increasingly, she was quick to soothe his bad moods with little touches and kisses, and it made him melt embarrassingly every single time. He'd been livid and silent as they'd trudged away from the building, both of them covered in rapidly-cooling blood spatter, when she'd brushed her hand along his back softly; a sort of apology, he supposed. Since then, his main source of anger had been himself and his lack of resolve when it came to this particular woman.

The old cowboy was determined to teach her a lesson today, though.

He'd spent the better part of an hour checking their perimeter once they'd come across this place, and the little sniper's nest where they were holed up had a great view of the area. It certainly wasn't much, little more than a rusty metal panel jammed between some rocks, a mattress, a chair, and a radio. But for the first time in a few weeks, things were safe, quiet, and calm. They had plenty of rations between the two of them, and water wasn't as much of a concern as it had been on their way in. She was so comfortable that she'd actually shed her boots and socks, her dainty little feet curled up underneath her as she nibbled away at something under the ramshackle "roof".

Now was the time. He just had to wait for the opportunity.

"You've been quiet since we left the traders." she said after a while of companionable, though mildly terse, silence. It wasn't a question, but at the same time very much was, and the casual, roundabout way she was addressing what was her own actions made him scowl slightly.

"You've been a pain in my ass these last few days, sugar." he said flatly, glaring at her as best as he could from under the brim of his hat. "Should be happy I've just been quiet now."

She actually rolled her eyes slightly, but clearly didn't think he'd seen it, keeping silent as she continued to eat. Increasingly bold for someone within grabbing distance. Cooper let a few seconds pass, studying her.

"Y'know, when I was in the marines, if you were a little shitheel, they'd make you do grunt work." he said eventually, voice matter-of-fact.

She pursed her lips at that, finishing up the can of beans she'd been steadily tucking into.

"I don't think I know what that is." she replied almost absentmindedly.

"It's the shit work no one ever wanted to do, so being assigned to it was intended as a punishment. Scrubbin' floors, toilets. Peelin' potatoes. Polishin' boots."

She chuckled at his anecdote as if it were meant to be entertaining, but the way he let her laugh hang in the silence, staring her down as she sat there curled up beside him, said otherwise. After a moment, she sort of narrowed her eyes at him, her tone low, almost conspiratory, when she asked:

"What're you playing at, cowboy?"

"I'm sayin' you're in trouble, cowgirl." he replied, reaching out to hold her chin solidly in his grip and watching her pout. "I'm sayin' that I think a little grunt work would do you and that attitude of yours some good, and I'm sayin' that I think you should polish my boots."

"Polish your boots?" she repeated, wrapping her tongue around each of the words like they were foreign to her.

"Pretty sure there ain't a functioning toilet within a hundred miles of where we're sitting, and I ain't got any potatoes. So…"

"You can't be serious." she said, her eyes full of curious suspicion as she looked him up and down.

Releasing her chin, the old ghoul set to removing his gloves, tugging his second hand free and using his naked pointer finger to draw a little 'x' over his heart.

"Serious as the grave, darlin'."

There were a few pregnant seconds of them staring one another down, waiting for the other to bend, to flinch. She even lifted her chin towards him, just enough for him to pick up on, an unspoken challenge. God, she was so like him.

"Now…be good and take your clothes off." he smirked, brows raising when she made to argue in response. Her lips worked their way between her teeth as she hesitated before slowly dropping all her armor from her arms and torso, then drawing the dirty shirt underneath over her head.

"Is that better, Coop?" she asked, letting her hair down out of the knot she'd tied it up into on top of her head, the strands framing her face as she worked him over again with those eyes of hers. Pulling herself up into a standing position, he did his best to ignore the way her bare breasts moved and dipped with gravity.

"Mmm. I think it would be more fittin' if you called me 'sir', frankly."

"You cannot be serious!" she insisted again, indignant as she slid the zipper on her trousers down, her tone making him chuckle despite himself. She just didn't know when to quit, and it was fucking adorable.

"Am I ever unserious?" he asked, ignoring the look she shot him back in favor of watching her slowly work the worn pants down over the curve of her ass, dropping them into a pile around her feet and leaving her standing there as naked as the day she was born. He felt his already-stiffening cock twitch slightly, resisting the urge to rub himself through the faded pinstripes of his pants. This was supposed to be a punishment for her, and doing that would give her too much opportunity to distract him.

"Aww, c'mon, boss." she sighed, pressing at a hidden button of his, cocking her head and sending that silky curtain around her face glinting in the light.

"I mean it, missy. You fucked up pretty bad today, and you need to be punished for it. And what did I just say?" he responded, fighting hard to keep his voice even and body still.

"Well…what else would you have in mind as a punishment, sir?" she purred as she stepped back towards him, batting those long, dark lashes his way. He managed to keep his eyes on hers and off of her body, a task that felt herculean as the ache in his gut grew more intense. For a split second, he wanted to give in to her, to pin her to the ground and fuck the attitude out of her like he'd wanted to for days. But there would be plenty of time for that later.

"I promise you that if you knew your other options, darlin', you'd choose this." he replied, finishing his smoke and tossing the butt away. Digging his inhaler out for a quick puff, he finally removed his hat and set it aside, reclining just enough to allow his feet to stick out a few inches in front of him.

She huffed at her little ploy failing to work, crossing her arms and cocking her hip slightly. Cooper's teeth dug into the inside of his cheek to keep back a grin.

"Well, are you gonna take them off?" she demanded.

He couldn't hold back his smirk at that, his head cocking as he continued to stare her down.

"Just how long are you gonna keep playin' dumb? You know it's gonna get cold when it gets dark."

Studying her face, he could see the faint lines of confusion there, and wondered if maybe she really didn't know what he meant.

"There's a reason I wanted you naked, honey, and it ain't just the view."

Though it certainly didn't hurt.

It took a few long, long seconds of her looking him up and down, wondering, but eventually the glow of realization lit up her face, followed by more brow furrowed confusion.

"How would that even work?" she asked, though her tone was more curious than argumentative.

"I suppose you'll figure it out, huh? Askin' an awful lot of questions for someone who's about to be freezin' their twat off in about half an hour." he said, watching with apparent glee as she fidgeted in place, pulling another cigarette out of his pocket and lighting it.

Still attempting to make a stand, she didn't move, chewing away at that bottom lip as she hesitated there. He could smell that she was already turned on.

"Go on. Get to work." he ordered softly, exhaling smoke through his nose, staring into her eyes.

After a heartbeat, she seemed to accept her fate and slowly lowered herself down onto her knees in front of him. That, too, made his cock jump. Her cheeks had a visible rosy hue as she clearly struggled to arch herself at the right angle to make proper contact; after a few long seconds of her huffy sighs, he took mercy on her and tilted the toe of his boot more skyward, allowing her to begin to rub herself back and forth across the dusty leather in earnest.

He watched as her face slowly morphed from mildly confused concentration to blossoming arousal, the tint in her cheeks growing until it consumed her entire face.

"How does it feel?" he asked quietly, taking another long drag off of his smoke.

"It feels good." she huffed, a light sheen of sweat glinting on her soft skin.

He reached out and grabbed a fistful of her hair at that, squeezing just enough to make her gasp, her eyes flying open to gaze up at him, wide and wet.

"Feels good what?" he demanded. "Given you an awful lot of chances on that, kid. Y'know, insubordination usually calls for more severe punishment."

"It feels good, sir." she replied, her hips stuttering slightly as she struggled to move them with her head fixed in place, her eyes falling shut again. He found it a little surprising that the mild pain hadn't stopped her or made her complain more. If anything, she'd seemed to like it. He took note of that for later.

"Tsk. Well, it's supposed to be a punishment, but I guess I can't help it if a little freak like you gets off on polishin' my boots. Guess I did know a guy in the service who really liked bein' made to scrub the floor, but, between you and me, I think he might've had a little thing for bein' pushed around and told what to do." Cooper's voice fell to a secretive murmur as he spoke to her, watching her eyes dart away as he teased her.

However, as he watched her slide herself back and forth across his foot, he found it more and more difficult to resist the urge to touch himself. When her eyes didn't open for several minutes, focused entirely on the sensation, it would seem, he took the opportunity to palm his cock, his hips eventually beginning to rock against his hand. That movement caught her attention, her gaze burning into him as she watched; this was a button of hers for whatever reason. Feeling emboldened and somewhat sure that she was too distracted to cause trouble, he quickly undid his belt and fly and tugged his erection free, a shiver running down his spine as he gave himself a few experimental pumps in the cooling air.

Unfortunately, he'd underestimated how coherent she still was, her head remaining low, but her right hand creeping up his leg towards his hand. He jerked his chin towards her, sending her jumping back a bit. However, she didn't look fearful, more chastened.

"Don't. You. Fuckin'. Dare." he growled, his hand not stilling for a moment. "If you touch me, I'm gonna put you over my knee and spank your little ass until you can't sit right for a week."

His threats only seemed to make her hotter, a throaty moan leaving her as she began to hump his boot with increased speed, all attempts at preserving any semblance of her dignity abandoned in the pursuit of her orgasm. The grip he was maintaining on himself tightened, and a growl ripped out of his chest in response as he fought to keep his eyes open and on her. If he could still sweat, he'd be pouring it just like her.

Cooper's leg jerked involuntarily as a particularly strong wave of pleasure shot up his spine, digging the toe of his boot harder into her weeping little slit, and she keened in response, her body beginning to twitch all over like it did when she was nearing her end.

"You close, honey? You wanna cum?" he asked feverishly, rapidly sprinting towards his own finish line.

She nodded rapidly, her breasts heaving with her strained breath as her nails dug into his thigh.

"Please, please, please..." she breathed over and over.

"Look at you, just cleaned the thing and you're about to make a mess all over it because you're such a needy little slut." he chastised, breaking down into a harsh whisper as he seized her by her hair once more, his cig hanging loosely from his lips. "Go on, baby. Cum all over my boot."

The labored whine she let out as she lost herself all over him, and the blissful way her face contorted as she cried out, was more than enough to finish him off, his release spurting all over his hand and stomach. They both growled and groaned their way through their shared release, her collapsing against the inside of his leg as she panted heavily. Working to control his own breathing, he let his head fall completely back with a blunted "thud" against the frame of the chair, releasing his grip on her head.

After a few quiet moments, they both rather sheepishly peeked at one another. He held his spend-covered hand up in front of her face, the mess catching the fading light as he reached out towards her.

"You're gonna have to clean that up, too." he said softly, rubbing some of the slickness across her lips, barely holding back a groan when the little pink tip of her tongue darted out to lap at his fingers as they passed by.

"Mmm. Yes, sir." she responded, gently laying her temple against the side of his knee, those big, round eyes slowly slipping shut. Cooper reached out and laid his palm against her head, petting her now-rumpled hair with more affection than he'd like to admit, admiring her in the golden-red hue of the evening sun.

"Don't get too comfy there, sweetheart." he said after a few quiet moments, his cock beginning to stir again. "Don't forget, I've got another boot."

#cooper howard #the ghoul #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #ghoulcy #vaultghoul #fallout tv show #fallout prime #submission

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

I apologize in advance, but the brainworms did a heckin screech and I felt the need to share the chaos.

Imagine, if you will, that our Creator let's it slip that they've interacted with other worlds before reaching Teyvat. (Played other video games) Imagine having to explain that in these other worlds, they may or may not have been interested in the denizens of those realms...sometimes in the romantic sense, which led to wedding bells and/or children.

Cue the uproar from the Genshin cast. The Creator, Blessed Maker of All...you have courted others? Have been married?? You have had children??? Their image of you being pure and untouchable, blown apart into tiny little pieces of confetti. 🎉

Though many loathe to admit it, they are curious...who are these people, what are they like? Is there a common factor in your selection of spouses? You would only pick the very best of a realm to choose as a potential partner, surely another being of creation...or perhaps a demigod?

It leads to the proverbial red string board getting made, the Archons trying to find out who is your most likely pick from their regions. It's all for your safety, your Benevolence! If you insist on having a partner, they must find the perfect match for you! You deserve only the best of the best, after all.

Bonus points if the Creator was a fan of games like the Harvest Moon/Rune Factory series. They're gonna need to make a list of all their partners, there are so many options to choose from. >>_>>

I'll admit I never played any of those games so I skimmed through the harvest moon wiki and chose one of the bachelors and chose some other game characters lol. Plus a game for all of you, guess the characters.

Though I do think that the reader having children before causes a bit of whiplash because it's totally unexpected, mostly because there were no records of you taking spouses or kids, even knowing you ‘have’ (play) other worlds is a surprise that causes a bit of a crisis. Either way here are some head cannons.

“I must admit, your grace is awfully attached to Qiqi” Zhongli hums as he blows on his white tea, a small cloud of steam leaving.

Qiqi doesn't pay him much mind, her head coddled under your chin like a little puppy, between her hands there is a small bird plushie “Well, I must admit she does kind of remind me of one of my little ones” Your hand softly pats her head, a few strands of hair moving as you do.

He stills as you spoke, eyes fixated on his cup “your… little ones?”

“Mhm?” Without looking up from the braid you were giving to the little girl you just nod “yep, she is quite soft spoken like Milenoe”

“... I wasn't aware your grace had sired children” there was never any mentions about holy spawns or spouses taken by you in any manuscript he got his hands on.

“Well, I never chose a couple from this world, so there wouldn't be any descendants” the comment slips airly from your lips as Qiqi slides off your lap towards baizhu who had finished checking the books from your bookshelf. “Do you want to see her? She started elementary school a few weeks ago” without waiting for an answer a screen appears displaying a tall man with black hair and horns standing regally behind you and a child with emerald eyes and horns.

“She looks rather shy”

You hum nodding “she is as shy as her father when he was her age. There aren't many children her age she can play with so she was pretty lonely her first 50 years”

“50 years?”

“her dad is a slow maturing species” so it should be 10 times the life expectancy than humans. Not that long for him but certainly longer than usual.

•°•°•

“It's a wonder to see how you manage to get Klee to change her mind about going fish blasting,” albedo scribbles some data half mindedly as he watches you hover next to Klee, who showed you a new drawings every few minutes “she is so stubborn even with Alice”

“Well I do have experience with headstrong children, Pardine is as focused on her goal as her father” one of your hands fall on her blonde hair, bright but still darker than Pardine’s almost champagne blonde and her red eyes polar opposite to her icy ones, a carbon copy to her dad. Even if your genetics rarely showed up on any of your kids it was uncanny how similar she looked to her dad and aunts “but I will admit she does annoy many guards asking to train her”

Albedo just laughs it off, listing the few loose characteristics of one of her spouses. Venti has been annoying him about his nation almost getting no information so he hopes a few spare tidbits and Klee’s rough drawing of a blond blue eyed man with a big shield works for whatever weird thing the archons have going on.

•°•°•

“Your Grace has married before?!” Ayaka gasps as you take a stroll around the nature surrounding her home. Her hand had swiftly unfolded her fan in front of her face.

“Mhm, I don't know why people get so surprised, after all it would be weirder if I spent so much time somewhere but took no lovers” you laugh at her slightly seeing her slightly flustered “it's almost a tradition at this point, to wed someone from each world. Want to see some family portraits?” She nods fervently looking at the tablet like thing that appeared on your hands, first a white haired cowboy like man is kneeling on the ground holding a baby by the armpits surrounded by three wolves ,seemingly playing with an older child, by the time the next imagine passes Ayaka is almost hanging by your shoulder, asking things about the siblings and begging to see more photos of your babies.

“And who did you take from teyvat?” Ayaka looks up sweetly at you, she has always held you in high regard and now that you are in Inazuma she can't help but get giddy thinking about how you decided to spend the stay in her state and most of your time with her.

Feigning surprise you tap your chin with your index finger “now that I think about it I didn't choose anyone yet... maybe it's about time”

“Then that means you could pick my brother!” She wraps her hand around your own, smiling as if she got the best idea ever “I could even call you older sibling!... If you wanted so of course”

“Big brother you remember how you told me you would find me a proper bachelor”

“If this is about wanting me to rush it won't work”

“It's not about it, I found you someone”

“Fine, as you please, need I remind you my standards are quite high”

“It's their grace!... Why are you choking on your tea!?”

•°•°•

“There isn't one damned coincidence…” Raiden slaps her head against the table with the rough drawings and some information about them “a king, a captain, a cowboy, a damned sorcerer…”

“Maybe there isn't supposed to be a coincidence” Nahida guesses “maybe they just look for someone who catches their eye”

“It doesn't help out as much as you think it does” the tsaritsa crosses her legs and leans against the back of the chair “if we are doing people with very clear characteristics maybe Ajax could fit nicely? Redheads aren't very common”

“Mhm, maybe but don't they have a liking for smart men? Then Alhaitham would be closer to their past couples”

“Well if we are going by that logic they should like the geo archon, as one of them has dragonic features” the tsaritsa side eyes Zhongli from the other side of the table.

Sighing deeply Furina, who came in place of Neuvillette, chimes in “It is their decision who they want to marry and even if they wanted to!”

"obviously you would be so calm, after all they are very close with your iudex. Don't get so cocky, I heard the commissioner Ayato is interested in the idea"

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #genshin sagau #x reader #gn reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hellooo may I ask if you plan to continue the kny cats series?

KNY Kitties | 4

Sooner than the quadruple had liked your friend had returned and was eager to take her cats home

And while the sad mews from the kittens broke your heart it was nice to see the Magenta and Waterbug reclaim their role as guardians

Once again alternating between following you around the house and watching the kittens

While you’d like to say all was back to normal it was not

The blonde Turkish angora with rainbow eyes seemed to be finding himself at your place more often 

With a new friend named Snowflake 

Turns out your friend who owned him did return from her trip 

But she had fallen in love with the idea of traveling and had convinced her boyfriend to do the same

Which meant you were left to take care of both of their cats for the foreseeable future

As disappointing as that was having the new short hair around helped balance everyone out

Keeping the mischievous Angora busy 

Otherwise, life was good 

You were hanging out even longer with your new landlord

And cracking down on the only cat that seems to be escaping from your home:

“Okay, my babies! I’ll see you all in a bit I just have to make a quick run! Behave please!”

The sound of your voice suddenly disappearing behind the door caught everybody off guard. As far as they were concerned you were just getting a snack in the kitchen, you’d said so after getting up from cuddling with Magenta. The kittens who had previously tried to fall asleep beside Giyuu immediately snapped awake to go to the door to mew sadly. As though their crying would bring you back they held their little protest for a few minutes, deciding to sit by the door to wait. Giyuu figured he’d check on them before speaking to Muzan who was taking this opportunity to rub himself all over your clothes. 

“Oi Muzan. Aren’t you stretching yourself too thin?//”

Without looking up the former demon king only intensified his scent smothering. 

“How so?//”

“All week you’ve been jumping between being a cat and the ‘landlord’s son.’ Is there no stress on your body to be switching so often?//”

“No, I’m as infallible as I was in the past.//”

Giyuu hides the distasteful flicking of his tail at the prideful assumption. He didn’t really care if Muzan was caught, he was only worried about the rest of them transforming. If that time were to come.

“Ne ne Akaza-chan! Who do you think will be transforming next?”

The striped short hair groaned trying to slink away from Doma as they entered the bedroom. Giyuu’s ears twitched as he made his move to stay on the bed. Better to stay out of their way but still watch the Uppermoons.

“For all you know, it could be me!”

“Please we’d all be in trouble if it’s you.”

“Why wouldn’t you like it if we all go and live with our Master?”

Muzan perked up from the folded clothes to do his best to glare at his subordinates continuing to make biscuits on them. 

“I wouldn’t let you live with me.”

“What?! Master why?!”

“(Y/n) would get the wrong idea about me and I will not have you disrupting my relationship with them.”

“How mean! Would you say the same with Akaza?”

“....No.”

“Whhyyyy?!”

Giyuu refused to say anymore jumping off the bed to the front door. He planned to check on the quiet kittens rather than listen to the useless drivel that was this conversation. He hoped none of it would be considered true. But if this was going off of physical prowess from their past lives that would be a likely scenario rather than Tanjiro. Giyuu was disappointed to see that Tanjiro hadn’t had the same changes he noticed Muzan was having before he first transformed. 

When he finally entered the kitchen and doorway of the house he found the kittens precariously stacked on each other while standing on the counter, attempting to grab some treats. Recently you’ve been trying to teach the kittens some commands and tricks. Unfortunately for you, the kittens were smart enough to wish they could have those treats all the time. 

“Tanjiro, Nezuko, Rui! What are you all doing?//”

A series of ‘uh oh’ and hushed whispers told him all he needed to know. Easily he hopped up on the counter to safely break up the little stack they had going on. They proceeded to whine and complain as he sent a scathing look to all of them–specifically at Tanjiro.

“Tanjiro what is this? I would’ve expected more from you.”

“It’s just that they were both hungry and they were crying–”

“That’s no reason to do this. If you’re so hungry you’ll wait until (Y/n) gets home.”

“But–”

“No, buts. Off the counter.”

But of course, as the kittens begin to slink away preparing for the drop-down, Muzan intervenes. 

“What seems to be the problem.”

Giyuu prepares to speak only to be beaten by Rui. Who proudly tattles as though Giyuu was in the wrong. 

“The old man says we can’t eat even though we’re hungry!”

“--Hey!”

Muzan probably already aware of the true situation coyly sits at the bottom of the counter. 

“Well, that’s not right then.” 

With a smooth snapping of bones, the human form of Muzan stood tall and more than able to reach for the treats. The kittens cheered letting out happy mews as he opened the bag and began leaving some food out. Giyuu groaned in the only way a cat can. 

It is then his dark blues spot the small device above the refrigerator.

“Mu—!//”

Before he could get it out the door swung open. It is then that Muzan turns completely naked to look horrified at the main doorway where you had your phone’s light flashing with a picture and your jaw hanging open. 

“OH MY G–”

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem #yandere kny #yandere demon slayer #yandere demon slayer x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba x reader #yandere muzan #yandere kny kitties #yandere muzan kibutsuji #yandere giyuu tomioka #yandere giyuu #yandere tanjiro kamado #yandere rui #yandere douma x reader #yandere akaza #yandere muzan kibitsuji x reader

[pleasepress1forfrontdesk]

The Chains Are Heavy

(Levi's long awaited backstory, finally)

Special thanks to everyone who has been following and rp with me. You really have helped make this character more than he was meant to be.

(@fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency @tired-sayaka-ada @never-gets-sick @oscarsgallery @city-of-c0rpses @v-extreme-diminuendo @kijimha )

How did I get here again? It could all have been a simple life for me, but it wasn't. Ever since I became 10, I was rob. Robbed of my family, friends, goals, dreams, my childhood, and most importantly my innocence.

Not just my innocent mentally, but literally too. I lost my innocence of being a civil. They all hate me now. Rightfully so. After all I have been nothing but a danger to everyone around me. All I did was make things worse. This war could have ended quicker if it way for me....

How did I get here again....

Foul Ball

It all started on March 22, a day after my birthday and two days after my best buddy's birthday, Cooper. We have been friends since daycare and being in the nursery at church. Cooper was a year younger than me, he was a wild kid, always taking things to the risk or the extreme. Super fast as well, faster than all of the kids on the playground, running was one of his passions. Cooper once told me that when he grows up he'll become a track star. As silly as it sound he had my full support, because you could never say no to Cooper. You could never tell him what to do.

I on the other hand was the balance for Cooper's wild behavior. Much more soft spoken and tame for a 10 year old. I may have not been the fastest runner, but I sure did have a good arm at throwing things. I had a goal, to become the world's best baseball player. It was my dream after all, to be on the professional teams and be famous. I wanted to make my mom proud

I must admit some of my behavior is like that, mostly because I was a mommas boy. It was just her and I after all, which I didn't mind. Though sometimes Cooper would joke that his dad, who was also single, should marry my mom so that we can be brothers and live together. I always told him that we wouldn't need legal documents in order to be brothers. As long as we stick together we will always be brothers.

Well that promise didn't last long... Cooper and I wear out in the front yard of my house, playing baseball as usual. I was using my new metal bat that I got for my birthday, it was much stronger than my old wooden bat. We were having a fun time, Cooper was about to throw the ball until he arm suddenly dropped and let go of the ball.

"What's wrong?" I asked as I turned my head to see what Cooper was now looking at. My eyes widen and I start to feel the same sense of fear that Cooper might be feeling. Two black cars parked in my driveway, and five government agents came out of them. My heart skips a beat. It can't be.

I watched as the knocked on the front door of my home, my mom answering it a second later. The government agents start talking to her, and even though I couldn't hear what they were saying, I could tell by the look on mom's face that this way good.

Cooper tugged on my sleeve. "You don't think the president actually signed that bill right?..." Cooper looked worried now, and I so was I. I clenched my fist into my shirt.

"He would only sign it if war ever started....." The realization dawned upon us both. My lips trembled. "I don't want to go to war...." I mumbled those words with tears falling from my eyes.

That was the last day I ever saw my mom again.

That was the day I was robed of everything.

Strike 1

A 10 year old out in the battlefields of war, that isn't something you saw everyday. But here I was, fearing that my life could end at any moment in these trenches. And it would be like this for the next 9 years.

It took some adjusting to, though there was no time to adjust. Hand a gun to a 10 year old and tell him to go to the trenches and figure it out. I wasn't even given training. They didn't care. They wouldn't care about me. I was a child who would get in their way.

I didn't blame them. After all this wasn't the military decision after all, it was the horrible president at the time who made this decision. What the Nimone government did was cruel. They went through every legal citizen document and determined who would be drafted into war. We already had plenty of men above 18 drafted, but it wasn't enough. With the law at the time, anyone who was above 10 years old, could be drafted if they were proved useful enough to be used.

And that's what upset me the most. That I was just some weapon in their eyes. A tool to be once and never again. I wasn't the only one upstairs though. Many parents and families were upstairs by this dumb decision. It wasn't just families either, it was our own men as well who were outraged by this decision.

Upon my first day at the military base I met the leader of my unit squad, Captain Ross. He was a tall and well built man, always having a cigarette in hand and giving cold gazes at everyone. It was scary first meetings him. After all, the captains in the Nimone are train and built to be unstoppable military weapons. Nothing can stop them, and they will not stop until they are dead.

Being compared to this grown man compared to me was quite scary contrast. I was just some tiny kid compared to him. We both looked at each other for the first time and I can tell by the look in his mustard yellow eyes that he was displeased. There was a scoff as Ross stared down at me. "Who the Hell put a 10 year old in my unit squad? This is a kid, he should be home, not here about to die for our country." At least Ross and I were on the same page. Who's mess up idea was this anyways?

Everything from that day forward continued to go down. You expect the 10 year old to be a helper in transporting supplies or be in the med bay, but no I was thrown straight to the front lines. The trenches. The conditions of trenches were horrible, but the treatment around here was worse.

I wasn't given proper clothes that were my size, everything I worn was made for grown men. I had to learn how to sew to keep my shirt together because I wasn't given new clothes. I been wearing the same shirt the militarily gave me for over 10 years now.

The bunks were hard as rocks, I could barely sleep. That's even if I could sleep at all within the anxiety that any moment a bomb could drop on us. Sometimes I didn't even get to sleep in bed. Someone I would pass out in the trenches or on the floor. I had to push myself to still be barely functional.

They needed me after all, all for my ability. It was either fighting in the trenches, or infiltrating the enemy team as a spy. With my ability I could look, sound, and act like someone else as long as I had a single strand of their DNA on a peice of clothing for me to wear, I could transform to be like them. Mirror Mirror, I called it. This was useful to the military, since I had to use it a lot. My ability was the only reason why I was still living while fellow soliders fall dead to the floor before my eyes.

They all started calling me DNA, Levi DNA, since that's what I was to them. I was called that name so many times that to this day I can't remember my own real last name now. That war has made me forget a lot of things.

Strike 2

I try to suppress the memories and nightmares so hard, but at the cost of forgetting anything good before the war. I was robed of the memories of my childhood because of it. Even if I did try to forget, the ones that were the worse always lingered in the back of my mind. All those moments of being in pain and suffering. Everything was starting to become dull around 18.

This was had been going on for so long that I was loosing my reason to keep fighting. As if I ever had a reason to in the first place. I was just doing what I was told. Go spy on these guys, aim for the head, use your ability, back to the battlefield you go. All words that have no importance to me anymore.

I remember one time I was in the medical bay, I had gotten badly injured, but even in that moment I couldn't rest for long. Dr. Ikari, a young man who never got to finish school, had to patch me up. Unfortunately he had to send me right back out to the battlefield a minute after he was done attending me. I could tell by the look in his eyes that we were feeling the same thing. This dullness that we both felt. I barely talked to him, but I could tell that both of our worlds were become gray.

When I was around 19 I thought there was nothing left to look forward to. The war was slowing down but I was already numb. Or so I thought until one day I saw a familiar face. Jumps off the bus was a familiar red head, it was Cooper! For the first moment in a long time I smiled as I saw him. He spotted me and we waved to each other. He still recognized me! I never felt more happy in that moment.

At last we can be like brothers again. Things became less dull, there was some color back into my life. Things were finally looking up. We would sit in the dining hall, eating the worst food, but that didn't matter to me. I got to talk to. My best friend.

Cooper would catch me up on everything that I have missed and I would vent to him about how this war was. His optimism brought up my spirits, which brought me to ease. He barely has changed since I last saw him, my same old buddy. We promised that once this war was over that we would support each other while we fulfilled our dreams. A track star and a baseball player.

Strike 3

That promise didn't stay.

I was robed again.

I could never forget that moment.

We were out in the battlefield, trying to traverse no man's land, our side finally had the upper hand in closing end on the enemy. But we lost many men that day, including Cooper.

He didn't react faster in time. Before I knew it, I was cradling his dying body in my arms, blood dripping from his forehead. Cooper was shot in the head. I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't even fighting anymore. All I did was lay on the battlefield, holding him closer to me. "Please don't leave me. Please don't leave me." I would mumble to myself through tears.

But he left. I believe now that he's resting well with God in heaven.

In that moment I could forgive myself. I couldn't forgive the enemy team. I couldn't forgive our own government for all of this. Things were becoming dull again, but there was this redness starting to boil in the inside of me. This ticking time bomb.

Then it happened.

I had enough.

The day I finally snapped.

I'm out

I regret everything I have done in that span of a week. I was the reason why things got worse. It was little things at first. Ignoring Ross commands, running straight into dangerous territory and slaughtering the enemies, or throwing a grenade at helicopters. Then it got worse, I destroyed many of our own military weapons and transport, with some of our own men still in them. I set some of the base on fire. Gave valuable information to the enemy team. Held hostages of innocent people. Many things.

All these things became documented, published for all the public to see. Soon Levi DNA became a name to hate. I was a danger to everyone around me. That I need to be killed or locked up away forever.

There were two final straws that let to my arrest. The president at the time came over to the base, there for a impossible meeting. He was the reason why I was suffering like this. With all the rage built up in me, I tried to assassinate the president. It took 6 guys to stop me from doing so.

But I wasn't done that day. The worst thing that I have done was use me ability for a murder. I transformed to look like Captain Ross, committing a murder on the previous vice captain at that time, making it look like he was the one who did it. I baseball almost ruined his name and reputation.

He hated me that day since.

There I was, now arrested and locked away in a high prison facility. Ross took the pleasure to torture me in breaking my spirit, in which he did. There was nothing to look forward to anymore. Everything had became gray once again. I felt nothing as I sat in my dark cell, chained to the wall. I didn't deserve good treatment. I didn't deserve kindness or anything good. After all a criminal, a monster, doesn't deserve anything at all.

There was no reason for me to live anymore, and I was ready to accept that.

For a long time in that cell I would be in my own little headspace, daydreaming that I was living a better life with my family and friends. It was my only "joy" left. But even that couldn't be enough.

I was ready to end it all, yet a tiny part of me told me not yet. One more chance. I try to ignore that tiny bit of hope left, but I caved in. I made a promise to myself, that if I could not find a reason to continue on living in a month, then I would end it all.

So I acted. With brute force I broke out of that prison. I snuck onto a boat headed towards Japan. I free myself and upon leaving Nimone to Japan, I did find one major thing to keep me living. The sun and rakn. The sun was so warm and bright, great against my skin and the rain was so calming and cooling.

This was my chance to start again.

Back in the game

Upon arriving to Japan, I ended up in Yoko's city. There I was already lost and confused. I didn't know where to go or where to stay. I didn't know Japanese so asking for help was a impossible.

For my first few weeks there I was a hobo, wandering around, taking food out of trash cans. I found a abandon car to sleep in for the nights, but I barely got sleep. Things weren't looking good again. I desperately needed a job.

But who would hire a criminal?

That's until I stumbled upon this building and this man with probably over 20 children. His name was Mr Fukuzawa. And upon meeting him, my life was never the same again. Things changed, for the good this time. And I was welcomed into a new life with such amazing and kind people. My world had color again.

I'm forever thankful for that day.

Thank you.

#bsd oc #bungou stray dogs oc #bsd #bungou stray dogs #levi dna #Cooper Levi's best friend #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs rp

[lisbeth-kk]

May Prompts (22) Night

The Luckiest Girl in the World (chapter 22)

I'm so sorry. Go get those tissues. I've used all of mine.

Summary: Rosie gets devastated news, and all she can think of is how her Papa is coping.

Twenty-Two Years Old

When Dad called with the news, my first thought was quite irrational: oh no, we’re never going to celebrate our twentieth anniversary! The second thought hit me with force and made me breathless: how is Papa doing?

“I’ll hop on the next…”

“No need, sweetheart. A car will pick you up in approximately fifteen minutes,” Dad assured me, and that’s when I started to cry.

***

Uncle Myc stood and waited for me outside the car when I ran to the kerb. His arms opened and I collapsed against him, heartbroken and totally devastated. He didn’t try to comfort me with words of nonsense, like it’s going to be ok, because he knew it would be a long time before any of us would be fine after this sudden and tragic loss.

“She seemed fine yesterday,” I told uncle Myc on the way home.

“Yes, so I have been…informed,” he sighed.

“How is he?” I asked, terrified of the answer.

“As expected.”

“Rock bottom,” I mumbled, and felt my throat tighten painfully from withheld tears.

“Indeed,” uncle agreed gravely.

***

It was worse than I expected. Papa’s loud voice boomed like a signal horn from upstairs when I locked us in.

“How could you not have seen the signs? You’re a bloody doctor, John!”

The words were spit like venom. I couldn’t discern Dad’s reply, but his voice was calm. He knew Papa wasn’t angry at him, but he needed to vent his sorrow, shock and devastation at someone. Luckily for everyone involved, Papa had chosen the right person for such an onslaught.

Before I climbed the stairs, I looked over at Nana’s door.

Gone. Dead. You’ll never see her again. There’ll be no more Christmas baking. She’ll never scold Papa for being petulant anymore. England has fallen.

The seventeen steps had never been so steep, my body never so heavy, and at the same time it felt hollow. 

“Nearly there, Rosamund,” uncle Myc murmured from behind me.

I woke from my daze and realised that the shouting had stopped. In its wake came a sound so heartbreaking, it made tears flow down my cheeks. Before I opened the door, a thought hit me like a battering ram, making me lose my balance for a moment.

If Papa mourned Nana like this, he would be utterly destroyed if Dad died before him. Not even his biological family’s demise could elicit such grief from him.

***

Inside the flat, Papa clung to Dad, and it struck me how small he seemed in that moment. So lost and bereft. This was not a puzzle he could solve, or a culprit he could catch to make everything right again.

“Rosie’s home,” Dad whispered to Papa and reached for me.

I didn’t think Papa would let go of Dad, give me room, or even detect the words, but he did. My name seemed to have a magical effect on him, because he straightened, turned his pained face at me and lifted his arm to indicate that I was welcomed into his and Dad’s cocoon. We held on to each other for what felt like hours. Dad asking if we were alright, Papa muttering something under his breath, and I just clung to my parents, wordless.

Dad, always reliable in a crisis, remembered that there was another person present, and carefully entangled himself after kissing us both, guiding our arms to embrace. Papa mumbled his name questioningly.

“Just give me a few minutes, Sherlock. Take care of Rosie, yeah?”

Papa nodded and pulled me closer, cradling the back of my head, whispering my precious girland I’m so sorry you have to go through this, and she loved you like a granddaughter.

***

The days leading up to the funeral alternated between the three of us sharing memories about the core of 221 Baker Street, what we would miss most about her, and lots and lots of crying. 

Dad was our rock in all of this, despite that he grieved his former landlady too. Some nights, Papa was inconsolable, and I thought his heart would literally break. He curled up in bed and sobbed full of despair. Only Dad could hope to console him, coaxing him out of the dark place he had locked himself in.

Both me and Papa agreed that we would honour Martha Hudson on the day of the funeral. Nana’s niece, Deidre, was her only living relative, and uncle Myc assured her that we would arrange everything if she weren’t able. From what Dad told me, she was relieved, having just started her tattoo studio, and she was quite short of money after the investments. 

***

Leaving uncle Myc and his minions in charge of the ceremony, proved to be ingenious, as we all expected. Even Nana would’ve been pleased with him, I think.

It all took place at Pembroke Lodge in Richmond Park. The Grade II listed Georgian Mansion is a beautiful and tranquil place, posh, but not over the top. 

The pleasantly warm weather allowed us to go dressed without jackets and coats. To honour Nana, all of us wore something purple, her favourite colour. Even uncle Myc acquiesced to leave his black suit at home, and instead he wore a light grey three-piece-suit with a deep purple tie.

Deidre showed up with purple nail polish, her black hair in spikes, the dramatic makeup intact, purple leather trousers, and a matching jacket with a black shirt underneath. Her Doc Martens boots were bright red. She was over the moon about the venue and to what lengths we’d gone to ensure a proper farewell for her aunt.

***

We didn’t know all the mourners, but I think I spotted a few celebrities who wore gigantic sunglasses and hats to hide their identities, which obviously had the opposite effect. 

Ginny, who conducted the ceremony was a calming presence throughout, and informed the congregation that there would be one speech apart from her own, and musical elements performed by a pianist and Papa on violin.

Papa held it together through his potpourri of Nana’s favourite classical pieces. He had his eyes closed and lost himself in the music. It was heartbreakingly beautiful. Beside me Dad clasped my hand firmly and never took his eyes off Papa. Admiration, love, sorrow and grief washed over his face in quick succession. He rose when Papa lowered his bow and looked over at the coffin that was decorated with purple lilacs. I saw the moment his knees gave way, but Dad was already at his side holding him close whispering something in his ear. I went over to them to pry the violin and bow out of Papa’s limp hands and let him lean into Dad’s arms.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Dad murmured teary-eyed.

Papa’s sobbing was muffled by his face being buried in Dad’s neck. Dad’s hand cradled the back of Papa’s head like it was a delicate object made of china. Slowly, Dad led Papa back to his seat and he held him tight until it was my turn to honour my beloved Nana.

The night I decided how to do it, Dad and Papa asked if I was sure I would manage it on my own. I retorted that of course I would. I was not a child anymore. What I hadn't considered was that reading a poem out loud in my room was completely different than performing it in front of a crowd, not to mention the emotional impact this performance would have on me.

I got to my feet when Ginny gave the signal and walked over to stand beside the coffin and opened the book on the correct page. Dad and Papa noticed before I did. Something gave me away. Did the book tremble in my hands, did my legs quiver, or did my breathing start to go wild with panic? Whatever it was, they both stood, came over to me, embraced me with their backs to the onlookers to shield me.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this, Bee?” Papa asked with a thick voice filled to the brim with withheld tears.

“You don’t have to, you know. Nobody would…” 

I cut Dad off abruptly feeling the soothing effect the closeness of my parents had on me.

“I’m sure. Stay, will you?” I said quietly.

“Of course,” they retorted in unison.

***

I took a deep breath, let go of my parents and we all turned to the other mourners and I started to read with one father on each side, radiating comfort and love.

Warning

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple  With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me.  And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves  And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.  I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired  And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells  And run my stick along the public railings  And make up for the sobriety of my youth.  I shall go out in my slippers in the rain  And pick flowers in other people’s gardens  And learn to spit.  You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat  And eat three pounds of sausages at a go  Or only bread and pickle for a week  And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.  But now we must have clothes that keep us dry  And pay our rent and not swear in the street  And set a good example for the children.  We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.  But maybe I ought to practice a little now?  So, people who know me are not too shocked and surprised  When suddenly I am old and start to wear purple.

Today, I will nudge you in the direction of AO3 and the end notes to give you some context

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @raina-at

More tags in the replies

#may prompts 2024 #may 22: night (metaphorical) #sherlock fandom #rosie watson #sherlock #john watson #mycroft holmes #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic

[hpowellsmith]

Hi Harris. How do you deal with negative reviews or comments? I have just started but I'm scared, I take such things so personally.

I'm sorry to hear you're anxious about this, but I totally understand and relate, and I'm sure every other writer does too so you're very much not alone!

I try not to seek out negative reviews and commentary, especially when I've only just released a game. Just after launch is the time when I feel most worried and vulnerable and it's also the time when I can't do much about it. Earlier, and I can make decisions about whether I want to take it into account for that game. Later, when making something new, I can think about whether I want to consider it for the next project. But that time when I'm the most stressed is also the least useful!

One category of commentary, I'm very comfortable ignoring wholesale. People have sent me, or I've seen, comments about my games that are sexist, racist, homophobic, acephobic, transphobic... I'm happy throwing it in the trash without another thought.

Sometimes, negative commentary boils down to "I wanted this to be a different game" or "why did this character not behave in a way I think would be better" or similar. Sometimes this can be helpful information (eg a character suddenly being flippant and humorous feeling out of place with their dour personality), but sometimes I just need to shrug and go "what can you do?" because sometimes expectations don't match up.

Some negative commentary can be learned from. That one can be more complicated because people don't always phrase that politely, the way that my lovely playtesters do! But it can have a grain or more of truth. So I sometimes need to wait a couple of hours for my defensiveness to fade and then swallow my pride and revisit it with a fresh mind.

With more experience, I've also gained a better sense of what people may not like. These days, it feels clearer when making decisions about going ahead - or not - with something I think people won't like, or something I've had negative feedback about. So, if people don't like an element in one of my games, it generally comes as less of a surprise, and is therefore less stressful.

As I've made more projects, I still get nervous - like I say, everyone does. But I've become more used to sifting through to find what's useful within negative reviews, commentary, and feedback and not bothering with the rest.

I hope some of that is helpful! I know it's hard not to take things personally; I've done so myself before, and I know how you feel. But I hope you do keep writing.

#asks

[javierpena-inatacvest]

She's Alive?!? (Alive may be a stretch LMAO)

HEY FRIENDS, IT'S ME 🥹 (Madeline fills y'all in below the cut)

Safe to say from the absolute radio silence on here for the past month and a half, life has been absolutely kicking me right in the tits. As of today (after telling my principal), I am officially done with teaching at the end of this school year. It's been the strangest feeling ever- while it is such a huge relief to know the tremendous amount of physical and mental stress that teaching has been for me is only 15 days away from coming to an end, it also hurts to think that the thing I once had so much passion and love for has burned out so quickly. I've been having such a hard time coming to terms with the fact that teaching isn't where I want to be anymore, and the teacher guilt in me about it is still eating me alive.

This school year has been so draining for me that the past month I have done the same routine every single day as followed: Wake up, cry going into work, try to make it through the day without having a mental breakdown from kids screaming/ridiculous parent emails/insane requests from the district/one of my kids threatening to bring a gun to school (yes, this did happen, and yes, it's the 3rd grade!!! 🙂), cry on my way home from school, look for jobs and change my resume for the thousandth time and cry again bc no one will hire me, and then go to sleep and do it the next day!! On top of that, I've just been dealing with a lot of other big life things that have taken up so much time/mental energy, I am legit crawling to the finish line that is the last day before summer break.

I will be completely honest with you when I say that I legit have not opened a Google Doc for NTL in a month and a half, and truth be told, I don't know the next time that I will. I truly do miss being on here and all of the wonderful people, and I feel terrible that I have been no where to be found. Thank you to everyone who's sent me a DM or an ask to ask if ya girl is okay, I really appreciate you more than you know 🥺💛

I'm really hoping the summer brings some new peace/inspiration to start writing again, but please know if you don't hear anything from me in the near future, either know 1. I didn't make it out of the school year alive or 2. I am sitting in the sun like a lizard on a hot rock letting all of the stress dissolve from my body until I start to feel like a normal human again 🥴

I love all of you so much, I hope that everything in all of your lives are going well and that I am giving each one of you a big kiss on the forehead and sending you all of my love 🥺💕

ALSO Y'ALL BEST BELIEVE I AM CELEBRATING MY LAST DAY OF SCHOOL WITH A CORONA BC PEDRO WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKK 😩

#Madeline is alive!! #Sort of!!!

[coopigeoncoo]

Meat Cute, Chapter 5

Chapter Links: First, Previous <- Chapter 5 ->Next

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (rating may change)

Tags: Canon-typical violence, Cannibalism, Reader is a cannibal, Fake/pretend relationship, Puns, Raccoon Reader, Tags may change, Swearing

---

In a bid to appear more approachable to the denizens of the Hazbin Hotel, Alastor enlists the help of his favorite butcher to step into the roll of an (after)lifetime: pretending to be his paramour!

---

“You can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow; his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

–--

A story where one thing is certain: the steaks are never bigger than when love is on the line.

---

Continue reading below, or follow the link to A03!

Most days, Charlie's incessant prattling amused Alastor.  It was one of the few traits they both shared after all; the ability to pick up the threads of dropped conversations and weave them into something new.  Usually a pithy quip on his part while Charlie would provide some long-winded tirade about friendship and optimism; nonsensical sorts of things that Alastor didn’t spare much thought towards. 

Generally, it was an effortless feat for Alastor to redirect Charlie's attention and energy onto something or someone else; goodness knows that the residents of their hotel could generously be described as an absolute mess most of the time.  There was always some sort of disaster brewing that the little Princess couldn't help but insert herself into.  A lovers tiff here, a genocide there, another new guest with an uninspired tale of woe that required comfort and a supportive embrace or two.

But there was a stubborn streak in Charlie today that kept her focus fully on the Overlord.  And while he usually never shied away from being the center of attention, Alastor had to admit that he was beginning to grow increasingly weary of her present line of questioning.

“-so what do you think?  Are you willing to give it a shot?”  Charlie asked, her entire body practically quivering in anticipation for his answer.  

“Hmm?  I'm sorry, I must have drifted off for a moment there. What were you saying?” Alastor apologized, his eyes alight with false sincerity.  

“Oh, come on!  There was no way you tuned out that entire musical number!” Charlie groaned in frustration.  “I hit like, three super high notes!  There was confetti-”

“I was dancin’,” a passing sanitation worker interjected, unceremoniously dumping a bin full of used hypodermic needles into the back of an idling trash truck.  

“-the garbageman was dancing, Alastor!”

“I’m sure it was a most spectacular sight!” Alastor assured him.

“Damn right it was,” the garbage man grumbled under his breath as he hefted a heavily stained mattress into his arms.  

“Okay, just- ugh! ” Charlie sighed, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “Forget the song-”

“Way ahead of you, my dear!” Alastor grinned, spinning his staff merrily as he set off down the sidewalk, Charlie quickly catching up despite his longer stride.  

“I'm just worried, Alastor.  You haven't really made any effort to open up to anyone at the hotel.”

“Haven't you ever heard the saying about mixing business and pleasure?  I'm merely maintaining a professional demeanor.  I would hate for the sterling reputation of our fine establishment to be tarnished by unprofessionalism!” Alastor explained, wiggling his fingers at a passing sinner who cowered under the oppressive weight of Alastor's fleeting glance.

“See, this is exactly what I mean!” Charlie shouted, frantically waving at all the pedestrians ducking down alleys and darting recklessly into oncoming traffic to avoid having to cross paths with the Radio Demon.  “People are afraid of you, Alastor.”

“As well they should be!  I am an Overlord after all, my dear.  Being terrifying is part of the job description.”

“Yes, I know that!  But the problem is that everyone is afraid of you.”

“Are they now?  I guess most people must be smarter than they look!” Alastor laughed in delight as Charlie's consternation grew. 

“I'm being serious here!  Even the people at the hotel are still…uncomfortable with you,” Charlie offered diplomatically.  “Which isn't what the hotel is supposed to be about.  It's supposed to be a place of friendship and comradery- where people can feel safe enough to open up and be vulnerable.”

Charlie paused in her explanation to gesture to the palpable air of malevolence that radiated from her hotelier.

“And you come off as everything but safe.”

“Oh, stop it!  You're making me blush!” Alastor cooed, lifting a coy hand to cradle his pale cheek.  

“Alastor,” Charlie sighed, quickly shuffling around him on the sidewalk so she could place herself directly in his path, forcing him to come to an abrupt halt and look into her pleading eyes.  “Please.  I need the hotel to be a success.  And I think that's what you want, too.  For whatever reason.”

Alastor was quiet as he examined the determined jut of Charlie's chin, his head tilting slightly to the side in consideration.  “What exactly is it that you require of me?”

“To be friendly.  To honestly try and connect with someone.”

“Shall I braid your hair then?  Gossip with the Effeminate Fellow about boys? ”

“Those are both great ideas!  But they…don't really seem like your thing,” Charlie hesitantly admitted.  “Why don't you start out with something you're good at?”

“Torture?” 

“Talking.”

“If you insist,” Alastor sighed.  “But my suggestion would be considerably more entertaining.”

“Hey, you never know where a good conversation might lead!  Just look at me and Vaggie!,” the Princess chirped excitedly, her eyes sparkling in delight at the mere thought of her taciturn partner. “She would barely say two words to me when we met and now we tell each other everything!”

“Ahhh,” Alastor narrowed his eyes in suspicion.  “Is that your angle?  To find me a partner?  A paramour?  To try to soften me up with affection? ”

“What?  No, that's not it at all!” Charlie rushed to assure him, her hands flapping wildly in front of her body as though she could physically waft away the misunderstanding.  “I mean, it would be great if you could find someone like that, you know, if- if you wanted to!  It's nice to have someone to care about- to care about you , in that way.”

“Please, do elaborate,” Alastor said, gesturing in front of himself with an exaggerated wave of his hand, encouraging Charlie to continue down the hopelessly cracked and pitted sidewalk towards Cannibal Town. 

“Oh- uhhh,” Charlie sputtered, stumbling over her own legs slightly as she moved to fall into step beside Alastor, her fingers nervously twiddling around each other as she struggled to find the words to explain herself.  “Partners are, well- it's sort of like being friends, but more?  Better, I guess?  You talk with them and spend time with them like friends, but they just-”

Charlie paused, heaving in a deep sigh as she imagined her girlfriend in her mind's eye, and tried to verbalize all the wonderful feelings that Vaggie cultivated in her heart.

“When you see someone you love, your day just instantly brightens.  You get excited thinking about the next time you see them- it feels like a bunch of moths are fluttering around inside of your belly.”

Alastor's upper lip curled up in revulsion.  “And that's a desirable feeling?  Intestinal insects?”

“Well, not when you put it that way,” Charlie huffed, crossing her arms across her chest in frustration.  “It's something you can't really explain unless you've experienced it.”

Alastor was unusually quiet, the ambient humming that surrounded him barely audible as they continued on their way.  For a moment, Charlie worried that she had maybe gone too far; that she had drawn an exclusive circle around herself and her experiences that painted Alastor as even more of an outsider than he already was.  An apology sat perched on her tongue, ready to assure him that it was okay to never have felt these things, when Alastor spoke up.  

“It doesn’t feel like fluttering ,” Alastor drawled, his free hand pressed against his abdomen pensively.  “It’s more akin to a gnawing sensation.”  

“Wait- ,” Charlie gasped, quickly sucking in a lungful of the humid Hellish air.  “Alastor, is there- is there someone you have feelings for?”

“Upon reflection I do believe there might be, based on your exceptionally vivid description of the experience,” Alastor informed her with an excited grin, pushing open the reinforced glass door of a building and ushering Charlie over the threshold ahead of him with a courteous incline of his head.  

“Ooooohhhhh, Alastor!” Charlie squealed, bouncing on her toes in barely suppressed jubilation as she queued up in the short line in front of the register.  “Who is it?  How long have you known them? Can I meet them?  Do you think they like you back?  Wait- that's too many questions!  I'm sorry!  But I'm just so excited for you!”

“It's fine, my dear!  Perfectly understandable,” Alastor reassured her with an indulgent laugh.  “And of course you can meet them, if that's what you'd like.”

“YES! ” Charlie yelled, only realizing how loud she was once all the numerous eyes of both the customers and the walls of the store quickly shifted their focus onto her.  She coughed into her fist and straightened her lapels in embarrassment as she waited for the other customers to lose interest and turn away. “I mean- that is to say, it would be lovely to meet them at your earliest convenience.”

“But of course!” Alastor agreed readily as he stepped with Charlie to the front of the line.  “Here she comes now!”

“Now?” Charlie squawked, spinning around frantically in quick circles to try and catch a glimpse of who in the store Alastor might be referring to.

“Here you are, Alastor, Sir,” you announced with a nervous grin, sliding a large, paper-wrapped parcel across the counter.  “One whole venison round, as requested.”

“Thank you, my dear!” Alastor said as he took hold of the meat, vanishing it to locations unknown with a quick snap of his fingers.  “I was wondering if I might trouble you for a moment longer, though?”

Sweat immediately began to gather at your hairline as you tried to swallow down the bile creeping up your throat.  “Is- is there a problem with your order?”

“No, no, nothing like that!” Alastor assured you with a sharp grin that did little to settle your nerves.  “It has recently been brought to my attention that I am enamored with you.”

All sounds inside the butcher shop abruptly halted, like the entire store had been sucked into a vacuum; customer's jaws hanging slack in shock at the unexpected confession. 

“You're what?” You squeak in obvious distress, casting pleading glances at your coworkers who were quietly peeking in  through a slim crack through the backroom door, eager to spy on the unfolding drama.

“Enamored, my dear!  Beguiled!  Infatuated!  Smitten, if you will.”

“You… like me?” You muttered dumbly as your brain struggled to process the bizarre scene you had found yourself thrust into the middle of.  

“Apparently!” Alastor laughed, reaching behind himself to tug his companion to his side.  “See, I was chatting with my associate here, Charlie, the Princess of Hell-”

“Your Grace,” you croak dryly, dropping into what was hopefully a passable curtsy.

“Hey, uh- nice to meet you!” Charlie greeted with a stiff wave and an even stiffer smile. 

“-and she made me realize what my true feelings for you were!  How you make my day better, how I look forward to the next time I see you, how you make my stomach rumble, ” Alastor growled lowly, his already towering form seeming to elongate as he loomed over you.

“...It ah- it sounds like maybe you're just… hungry whenever you see me?”

“Perhaps!” Alastor cackled, his staticy laugh even more distorted up close.  “But one man's passion is another man's hunger, as they say!”

“Do they say that?  Is that a thing people say?! ” You whispered manically towards Charlie, her shoulders jumping up towards her ears in a helpless shrug.

“Gastrointestinal palpitations aside, you can't deny we have so much in common,” Alastor's grinned, his smile somehow, impossibly, widening even farther as he leaned down on the counter on a single elbow, his nose nearly touching yours as you stood frozen in place; afraid that any sudden movement might somehow cause him to pounce. “I'm somewhat of a Butcher myself, you know.”

“RIGHT , okay!” Charlie interrupted with a nervous laugh, slamming a handful of bills down onto the counter as she managed to mercifully push herself between the Radio Demon and the meat counter.  “So sorry, but we have to go- there's important hotel business we need to get back to!  It was lovely meeting you, have a nice day, BYE!”

You were still staring at the door minutes after Charlie had frantically pulled Alastor out of the store, only snapping out of your daze when your manager shuffled up beside you, nose buried in the employee handbook.  

“I've triple checked and experiencing sudden romantic overtones isn't grounds for taking personal leave,” he explained, pointing to the exact passage in the well-worn guide.  “You're gonna’ have to finish out your shift.”

“Of course,” you replied distantly, unable to meaningfully focus on anything other than your racing thoughts and the strange, muffled ringing in your ears.  “What about if I pass out?”

“Says here you'll get a fifteen minute break and a strong cup of tea.”

“Better put the kettle on then,” you mumbled as your knees buckled, vision going black as you plummeted towards the floor.  Your manager looked down at your crumpled body and sighed, nudging you out of the way with his foot and stepping up to the register.  

“Next in line!”

#alastor x y/n #alastor x female reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #pigeoncoos🕊 #hazbin hotel x female reader

[soup-of-the-daisies]

About Prongfoot ask - Possesive James potter

I love me a good possesive bf and most would say that Sirius is the possesive one but idk why i get the feel it is James..

A little backstory, - Now I have read a few wolfstar version of possesive bf but they make me cringe and laugh at all the werewolf stuff being told as the reason behind Remus's possessiveness as he hated that part of himself and would never embrace it... But from there I liked the idea of a partner (deserving and equal, which Remus is neither) knows Sirius is super good catch and feels bouts where they feel surge of the desire to make everyone know that Sirius belongs to them...

In what ways do you think James can be possesive bf..?

(You can answer in both explicit and non explicit sense) whatever you feel comfortable in sharing...

Oh anon… I too love a possessive Prongsfoot moment. I don’t read Wolfstar, but I agree with you that the werewolf-induced possessiveness doesn’t feel very in character (if it’s allowed). I do think that Remus would be insecure enough to feel incredibly possessive of Sirius—he’s just too shy to actually do something about it. And for Prongsfoot: I think they’d both be quite possessive of one another, but you’re 100% right that it’s extra delicious with James.

James is an only child. He likes gift giving, as it is how his parents also often showed their care… but he really doesn’t like to share.

It’s not that he isn’t confident in his relationship with Sirius. He’s perfectly well aware that they belong to one another. Family comes first for the both of them, so yes, James may sometimes have to step back as Sirius busies himself with Regulus or Andromeda, or any other biological relative—but they’ve made each other family too, and Sirius always understands if James has to busy himself with his (admittedly small) family, so he cannot let the green monster rear its head. It’s unacceptable.

He can’t help it though, that sudden grumpiness that overcomes him when Sirius isn’t floating off to someone else, that sudden cruel streak coming forward. But he doesn’t want to make it too horrible, so he does what he can to satiate his jealousy: a hand around Sirius’ wrist, finger pressed against the pulse point; an arm around Sirius’ shoulders; setting himself next to Sirius, and leaning against him in a subtle display of ‘mine’.

He wears Sirius’ clothing—shirts, jumpers, scarves, neckties and school robes. They’re all a touch too big, because Sirius is a touch taller and burlier than him, and that means it’s always subtly obvious to anyone who pays attention who the clothing actually belongs to. He sprays Sirius’ cologne on his wrists, so that they can smell it. He kisses him in front of the whole of fucking Hogwarts, in the halls, during classes, before and after a Quidditch match. And he sucks hickeys, big and bruised and painful, onto Sirius’ neck; high enough that they’re visible. He likes to press down on them from time to time, both in public and in private. He hates it when Sirius heals them prematurely and gets so sulky and grumpy that Sirius always, without fail, caves and lets James suck and bite a new one into place.

It’s ownership, technically. If he was a cat he’d be spraying. The only reason it’s okay to think as such (or so James tells himself) is because Sirius owns him just as much, if not more. Wholly, completely. James is a social butterfly, has acquaintances all over the place, but Sirius is always on his mine. It’s like he’s carved onto his bones. The imprint of him remains no matter what James is doing, no matter who he’s talking to. Sirius’ eyes stare holes into his back, only to loop an invisible rope through and yank him close again. James is owned. He can’t fathom why he can’t own Sirius right back.

#ask #anon #prongsfoot #bambibelle #sirius black #james potter

[ghostybaby000]

After Hours | Part 4

Part 1

Pairing: Simon Ghost Riley x reader

Summary: I recommend going back to part one (above) to begin this juicy read!

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: 18+, guns, yelling, light flirting, future smut

(Not fully edited, apologies fro any inconsistencies!)

The next few days you found yourself thinking over your lesson with Simon and how you had wanted to tell your manager that things had changed. You still felt anger, not as greatly as before but enough so that it made you feel physically hot when thinking for too long of it. You broke from your thoughts as an ad came over the television, something about pain relief or migraines. You took the break from your show to grab a snack and make your way back to the couch. 

It had been 3 days since you had worked, and it left you feeling bored and lonely not having any sort of interactions with people other than the occasional text or call. There was no attempt to try and change the incredibly rude managers mind about working so you decided to try and improve on things you hadn’t gotten to do. You had found ways to entertain yourself by going for walks or trying new recipes, anything that kept you moving and out of a slum. If you had let yourself sit in bed you may not have ever wanted to leave. 

The rest of the day is calm, the small house noises making it feel all the more abandoned. The tick of the old clock in the living room, the hum of the fan in the bedroom, the sounds the washing machine made you feel drowsy. Enough so that you decided to drift into a nap, one that you felt was deserved after the day’s chores.

You felt yourself jolt awake to the sound of your phone ringing on the countertop. You scramble to get to the phone, not wanting to keep the person on the other line upset. You slide on the wooden floor as your socks and sleepiness weren’t helping to make your way up and over quickly, finally reaching your phone and reading the bright screen. 

‘Manager Trevor’ You let out a sigh that made you feel a little dizzy after sitting down at the counter, you had to pick up. 

‘Hello?’ You sounded tired and tried to clear your throat before speaking again.

‘Yes, hello Y/N. It’s about time-I tried calling you 3 times already you think you would of answered.’ He sounded angry, as if he had been speaking yet again to someone in a harsh and rude manner. 

‘I apologize, I fell asleep. What did you call fo-‘ you had been cut off when he began speaking again, not to your surprise. 

‘Yeah listen- I need you to come in this week, the rest of the week in fact.’ Your eyes opened father now, his words taking an extra moment to process. 

‘I thought I wasn’t mean to come in, you said I shouldn’t because of the pay.’ You wiped your eyes as you took a moment to look outside, it was dark. A quick glance to the clock had shown you that it was past eight o’clock and you had slept for far too many hours. 

‘Yes I’m aware of what I said, Y/N. I’m telling you now I need you to come in, for reasons I don’t have to explain to you-so can you come in or not?’ Silence sat on the line as you heard him huff, a clear indicator that you shouldn’t say no. You had needed the money anyways and decided to just be grateful he called you and not another worker. 

‘Yes I can come in, no problem.’ You both gave a short goodnight as you let the phone sit back on the counter. 

You had work, you would be able to pay the mortgage, you would be able to see Simon again! You had thought before of Simon and his lesson to you, trying to remember the stances he and taught you, and even how to hold the gun. In the shower you found yourself holding the invisible weapon pointing it at a shampoo, and when doing laundry you tried to remember the foot and hip stances. You find your heart rate picking up as you recognized that this week you might learn to fire the gun, although it still made you a bit nervous when considering how much time it had been since you had last held the weapon. While this was true, the gun had nothing on the nervousness you felt when he had touched you that day, something you promised to not forget. 

The next morning you make your way into the same building, settling into your position and starting your work. You felt good working, and chatting with those who came in asking about where you had been in the previous days. This pattern repeated as you kept working the next day and the day after that, when you saw him again. 

He had come in with an extra to the usual group, making 4 men walking through the shop looking at the ammo and chatting about what would be best for the day. Ghost didn’t motion towards you or even look in your direction, as if your lesson had never happened. You didn’t take it to heart as this was how he treated you before the interaction, and told yourself that it was typical behavior for him. 

The four came up to the desk, purchased their things and headed to leave the shop. Ghost had held the door with one arm, the other holding ammunition as the rest of the group shuffled out of the small shop, taking the smallest moment to look to you. You met his glance as he gave a small head nod, and let the door to the shop close with a chime. You felt your palms become sweaty as a small smile found its way across your face. The butterflies were so pestering now that you couldn’t ignore them raging in your stomach, and decided to have lunch. 

The next few days were all the same, no sight of Ghost or his colleagues in the shop, speaking with a few people about the weather and plans for the summer, your manager giving remarks that left you feeling nasty. It was now time to close the shop, the same visions of your interactions with Simon playing through your head as you heard rain pattering on the tin roof while you locked the door. You felt yourself smile again at the thought of shooting with him tomorrow night as you made your way to your car. 

The next day you wait with baited breath as customers come in and out of the shop, it was a busy day now and you had to pull yourself into a work mindset to get to everyone in a timely manner. You did your job well, making sure everyone had been attended to all the while being friendly and approachable. The day came to a slow end as the customers died down, only now returning golf cart keys and giving their good evenings to leave. You felt yourself sadden, realizing that through your rush of customers you hadn’t seen Ghost or his usual group. You had waited for tonight like a child waiting for a candy store to open, eager for more the second the store closes.

 Your manager was leaving now, a few hours earlier than you had expected-not that you would complain of such a thing, not taking time to say goodnight or bother with a wave as he left through the back exit. Your eyes were now slowing as they looked out the windows to the front of the shop, your heart began to sink. You had been so busy earlier-there wasn’t a chance that you had missed him was there? Military men and women had been checking in and out frequently but you were sure that you would have noticed his typical group had you seen their faces. The last few customers made their way in, leaving you with a goodnight or wave goodbye and you had decided that you would lock up and go home. Your energy from the day had already been depleted, taking a short lunch to help customers had made you feel tired and you needed to rest. 

You begin to pack up your things, taking notice of all the rooms in the building to ensure they were empty, before grabbing your things from your locker with a huff. You made your way out into the main room, turning off the lights as you paced through the building, the only light being the one in front room that you could disable before walking out. You reach down to pick up the lock box from under the desk when you hear it. 

*tunk*tunk*tunk* you freeze.

 Taking a small breath in you slowly stand from where you had been crouched, someone was tapping on the window. 

#ghost x reader #books #call of duty fanart #cod fanfic #cod ghost #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley cod #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost x you #simon ghost smut #simon ghost riley x you

[deluweil]

Read a post earlier today talking about how "Sorry I'm late" may be about a pregnancy, and I am not negating it - because speculations and all. (Madney speaking imo)

But I think buddie-wise, if it does happen - I think that the "I'm sorry I'm late" part is about Eddie and Buck actually being late - late to realize, late to do something about it, late to be together, at least this season.

I have a feeling that Eddie may actually start the next season in isolation, medically speaking, like maybe he gets infected by something and in true NCIS LA and H50 Style, he will be in actual isolation.

Another near death experience, with a whole new outlook on life, hopefully, would give him and Buck who would probably, naturally, be the one to look after Christopher in the meantime, time to reflect about new realizations and time to miss each other in a whole new way.

Just a thought.

I also wonder if Eddie's family will find out about Buck getting Christopher just in case something happens to Eddie, before Eddie gets hurt or after.

Because that would also explain the "reset" button so to speak, there is no way his parents would see it with a kind eye.

👀👀👀

#eddie diaz #buddie #evan buckley #911 spoilers #911 speculation #christopher diaz #this finale is going to cliffhanger us I just know it

[gnpwdrnwhiskey]

greatest of all time

Pairing- Dieter Bravo x ofc!Ava (yes, her again, I'm so sorry!)

Word Count- 1,182

Warnings- none really that I'm aware of? some swearing, a couple of beers get drunk but basically this is just ridiculous banter because that's what these two do....

Author's Note- yes, I know I already have two other unfinished works with these two that I should be working on but I saw this post and joked with @wildemaven & @trulybetty that this was Dieter & Ava's next adventure and then that same day I saw the post for the @dieterbravobrainrotclub May drabble challenge and here we are....3rd universe but first time meeting, totally still counts as a meet cute right? lol!

"This can't possibly be right," Dieter mutters to himself as he turns into the campground.

He'd asked his assistant to book him a few days somewhere off the grid. Just peace and quiet and time to clear his head before he started a new project.

But this little semicircle of Airstreams baking in the desert sun can't possibly be the right place. The GPS fucked up or something.

He'll just stop and ask for directions and be on his way. Five minute detour. Max.

Ava glances out the open door of her office when she hears a car door slam before looking over at the massive merle coated Great Dane laying on his custom doggie bed on the floor next to her desk.

"Oh my God, he's here already? He's early! Do I look okay?" She asks the dog, frantically patting at her hair and straightening her clothes. She receives a couple tail wags and a cocked head in response. "Phfft, fat lot of help you are."

"Excuse me?" Dieter asks from the doorway.

"Oh, sorry, not you. I was talking to Goat."

"You have a goat?"

"No, why would I have a goat? Goats are herd animals, a single goat out here in the desert all by itself would be lonely. And that would make me sad. I have a dog. Named Goat."

The dog in question gives a woof at his name and stands to his full height, head somewhere around Dieter's belly button, and gives him a cursory sniff before padding past him to sprawl outside in the sunshine.

"Why Goat? Wouldn't Horse have been more appropriate?"

"Haha," Ava laughs dryly. "Creative. Never heard that one before. My brother named him Peyton...ya know, Manning? So Goat. Greatest of all time."

"Sure," Dieter nods like all of this makes perfect sense, thinking to himself that this woman has probably spent way too much time frying her brain in the desert heat. "Baseball, right?"

"Football," Ava says slowly, thinking what a shame it is that he's cute but apparently oh so dumb. "Anyways. Hi, welcome to Gateway Campground! Are you here for the aliens?"

"No, I'm just here for directions....the GPS must've fucked up....aliens?"

"Do you.....do you not believe in aliens?"

"No?"

"Are you stupid? Of course there have to be aliens! C'mon, there are whole galaxies out there we hardly know anything about!"

"Okay, then sure? I believe in aliens."

"Aww, then you can't stay here. Sorry. Strict no communing with aliens rule."

"But you just said--"

"I know, it's quite a conundrum isn't it? But I kinda have an experiment 626 situation going on here that I'm trying to keep on the low low."

"I have no idea what that means and no intentions of communing with anyone. Alien or human."

"Oh...."

"Probably requires some kind of radiation, like EMF or some shit," Dieter continues. "Messes with my fucking brain waves. I don’t even wear wireless earbuds. Besides, I'm not staying here. Like I said before, I just need directions."

"Oh, no, you're in the right place, Mr Bravo? Dieter? I'm not sure what to call you...you are Dieter Bravo aren't you?"

"Dieter's fine, but what do you mean I'm in the right place?"

"Your assistant booked the whole place for you? For a week?"

"This is Joshua Tree?"

"Well, no, but the park is only like 30 minutes away," Ava looks him over skeptically, gaze lingering on his well worn Crocs. "If you're into like, hiking or whatever."

"Do I look like I'm into hiking?" Dieter snaps. "Look lady, I'm sure your facilities are perfectly adequate and you can keep whatever you've already been paid, but I'm not staying in the ass end of nowhere in some shitty camper. So if you could just tell me how to get to Joshua Tree..."

"But--"

"Nope, no, whatever it is, more alien shit or whatever, I don't want to hear it. Ya know what, nevermind, I'll figure it out myself."

"I was just gonna say Joshua Tree will be booked full up this time of year," Ava yells at his retreating back as he stomps back to his vehicle.

"Well. That did not go well," she sighs, leaning against the door jamb and watching Dieter's rented SUV disappear as he heads back towards the main road. "It was the alien stuff, right? Probably went a little overboard on that, huh? But we had to be sure right, Goatie?"

Goat chuffs softly and gives Ava's hand a sympathetic lick.

"He'll be back, right? I think he'll be back," she nods to herself and then sighs again, rubbing one of Goat's silky ears between her fingers. "I hope so anyway. It'll be a long ass week out here by ourselves if he doesn't come back."

Three hours later he is in fact back, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs and Ava bites her tongue to keep from telling him she could've told him so.

"One night," he tells Ava as she leads him to the Airstream closest to the office. "And then I'm out of here. Too fuckin aggravated to drive home now."

"Of course. I completely understand," Ava tells him in her frostiest professional voice as she unlocks the door and hands over the key. "Your assistant provided a list of some of your favorite toiletries and snacks and stuff, so you should find everything you need inside."

"But If you were to find anything lacking, I'm right over there," she gestures towards the lone Airstream parked a little farther away from the others. "Enjoy your stay, Mr. Bravo."

Dieter finds her stretched out on a lounger by the pool as night falls, Goat stretched out on his own lounger next to her.

"Can I sit?"

"Of course, you're the guest here. Goat and I can leave if you'd prefer."

"No, I'd like you to stay, please? And I think I owe you an apology. This place....well, it's not what I expected."

"I get that a lot," Ava grins, digging in the cooler next to her chair and offering Dieter a beer.

"It's really, really fucking nice. I mean that. Better than some resorts I've stayed at."

"I know," Ava nods. "My brother and I worked hard to get it just right."

"You did a fantastic job," Dieter tells her, twisting the top off his beer and taking a long swig. "I uh, I also googled what you said earlier-- an experiment 626 situation. Lilo and Stitch, right? So I guess like, you were trying to tell me Goat is, ah, special?"

Goat gives one short sharp bark and Ava laughs. "Yeah, he is indeed very special. You could even say he's one of a kind."

"I take it back," Dieter tells her, relaxing back in his lounger, face tilted up to the stars. More stars than he thinks he's ever seen before in his life, more possibilities than he's ever imagined. "I think I'll stay a few days."

Ava smiles, mostly to herself, and Goat's tail thumps happily against the fabric of his lounger.

"Stay as long as you want."

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter & ava #dieter bravo brainrot club #dieter bravo brainrot club may challenge

[sortasirius]

I’ve been kinda thinking about the finale (as if I ever do anything else) and I have a sort of theory on how it could all play out.

Most of this is spec, some of it is my writer brain, so with that what you will lmao.

With what the 911 on ABC posted on Instagram today, I think it’s fair enough to assume that the councilwoman who was the mother to that guy is about to get involved. That whole thing was kind of just brushed off, and the idea of revenge is being repeatedly being brought up (Amir, even the idea of Doug sort of enacting revenge on Chim while he’s hallucinating), along with the theme of loss and grief (Eddie’s current mess, Amir…again).

I’ve seen several theories saying that she would try to stop Hen and Karen from adopting Mara, and while I can see what they’re saying, I actually think it’s more along the lines of her preventing Hen from being interim captain.

We know something is going to happen to Bobby, with all the stills and bts in the hospital, including the one with the whiteboard that says “R. Nash” on it. And if Bobby can’t act as captain, the usual replacement is Hen, but if Hen is in the midst of this, and the entire 118 is caught up I think it’s plausible (especially with Ryan talking about how Eddie is “isolated” next season) that the councilwoman will basically fight to split them up, citing past cases and insinuating they are dangerous or unfit as a unit. The LAFD brass won’t want to get in a fight with city council and will separate them but won’t fire them. (A compromise they’ll think is good, but we know is terrible).

I personally think that Buck will be left at the 118. With Captain Gerrard. I really get the feeling that the councilwoman may know him and put him back in place there even in spite of his past.

If we think about Buck’s worst nightmare (being abandoned by those he loves) it fits perfectly. Being by himself in his house but without his family, with a new captain that he knows Hen, Chim, and Tommy hated. That’s the worst possibility for him. Throw in a potential fight with Eddie and you have the perfect storm for Buck, something that would be untenable for him long term.

Relationship-wise, I have a couple different thoughts. Either Gerrard being at the 118 brings Tommy and Buck closer together, because Tommy understands what an awful captain Gerrard is and is a shoulder to lean on for him while he has to deal with it (this is preferable and what I want lol).

Or, as much as I hate to say it, it could lead to a distance between him and Tommy, because Tommy doesn’t want to be around Gerrard (don’t blame him) and he can’t be there for Buck because he’s afraid of turning back into the person he tried so hard to escape.

And I don’t think we’d start season 8 with everyone back together. With 18 episodes (bless) they have time to draw out plotlines that they haven’t been able to this season.

If, as I fervently hope, Bobby makes a recovery from whatever happens to him, he’ll have to go through the same retraining that Buck did when he was crushed by the ladder, which would be an interesting contrast for him to be put in those shoes, maybe desperate to get back out to the field but not being cleared, Athena being worried about him the same way he was worried about her after she was attacked, all that.

I think Hen’s big conflict would be that she feels like them being separated his her fault, since she didn’t force the guy to get care. She would be okay in another house, but potentially feel like she’s starting over, just like with medical school.

For Chim, I think his biggest thing would be taken out of the 118, maybe he would be assigned to the 133 as an extra gut punch since it was Kevin’s house? I think there’s something interesting there.

And Eddie. Eddie, who is taking doppelgänger Kim out in public, while bringing his girlfriend to the medal ceremony. Something is coming here, this situation is precarious at best. I highly doubt he will still be with Marisol by the end of the season. At the same time, I don’t think he’s going to be with Kim either. With this photo, it could be that Chris finds out about Kim or something like that. If I had to guess, I would say that Eddie and Marisol are done by the end of 7x09.

I could also potentially see Eddie being left at the 118 and Buck transferring to air support with Tommy, which could be interesting since Eddie was the one to leave last time. But for angst points, I think leaving Buck alone in his house which is suddenly no longer home, but hostile? I would eat that up.

Overall, with all those happy stills we got today, juxtaposed by the way press is talking about the screeners, I would say we’re in for a rough couple of episodes and a rough hiatus too.

#my spec #911 spec #911 #911 abc #spoilers #not really but I don’t wanna risk it lmao #evan buckley #bobby nash

[theygender]

I may be considering the crime of... Getting a business degree 🤢

#i Like my new job where i get to play in excel all day and i also like having financial security for the first time in my adult life #i was originally thinking about switching my major to sociology bc its another area that im interested in #but my mom may have talked me into considering a business degree as an option since sociology isnt a great fallback option... #the thought of majoring in business makes me gag tbh. but i mean... i DO like data analysis and there IS a masters for data analysis #and the bachelors degree in information systems would teach me new things about computers which might be cool #and they have an international business program that links in advanced study of foreign languages and cultures #and theres even a certificate program for sustainability that includes direct work with grassroots programs #AND all of this is intentionally made to be accessible to people who are already in the work field so i wouldnt need to quit my job... #...all of this plus a sociology minor (or double major if i can pull it off) is starting to look pretty good actually #BUT... can i withstand the pain of spending the next few years in classrooms full of business majors 🤔 #real talk tho i was wanting to use my social work degree to go into policy anyways which could mean government OR corporate #...if i get a business major i could potentially speedrun the process of getting into corporate policy to make a difference that way #and my sociology minor (or major) would still support that #fuckin. trojan horse the companies i guess #i am rotating the idea in my mind with the emotional state of that gif of someone trying kombucha for the first time #rambling