#i went into a store the other day because i needed a lamp and they had so many nice looking things

[spearxwind]

Everyone talks about how expensive rent is but i dont ever see anyone talk about how expensive furniture and house stuff is. Saving up for like, a couch is insanely expensive. Buying one nice thing is fine but if you need several things suddenly the price builds up sooo high like I want to have a nice table and some nice chairs and maybe a nice lamp and suddenly that can all run me for 800eur easily at the cheapest.

#i went into a store the other day because i needed a lamp and they had so many nice looking things #i want to have a nice house but i dont have the money #literally a direct result of me buying my first ever furniture thing. my shelf. has made me hyperaware of how expensive everything is #and it was from ikea which is the cheapest ever!! i cant even imagine things that arent from ikea how much they'd cost!! #now whenever furniture gets destroyed in movies I always go NOOOOOOOOOOOO #who cares about the fucking protagonist or whatever getting punched that table was solid oak with a resin top AND hand carved legs!!$ #thunderclap

[skullvgirl]

needy!nagi ིྀ | headcannons

incl. nagichi ≧▽≦

warnings: school!au, suggestive, fem reader, fluff ooc ( ? )

an's: idrk if this follows the theme of [ ooc trait x character ] yall, nagi is kinda need no?

needy!nagi who follows you around, everyyyywhere, like theres an invisible leash attached to your hand and his neck, you literally had to force him too leave when he tried following you into the bathroom

needy!nagi who calls for you to do even the littlest things, because somehow you 'do it better' or 'make it look easier'

needy!nagi who forgets all rules physical boundaries when he's near you, who has to hold you always and for as long as possible

needy!nagi who makes the biggest fuss when you have to leave the house without him. even if it's just a 5 minute outting from your house to the store he acts like your moving half way across the world { but you are he'd say }

needynagi who texts you all the time, 24/7 365 days a year is always blowing up your phone asking you and talking about the most redicoulus things

"did you tie your shoes before you went out ?"

"did you make sure too look both ways when crossing the street?"

and don't even get me started on when he's needy, needy

an obnoxious and repetitive beeping sounds on your alarm and you groan, twisting your body uncomfortably in the shared bed sheets before finally turning it off.

"seriously morning already..." you mumbled quietly, the darkness shrouding your thoughts.

i need to get ready for school.

and you did just that. at least you were going to before you realized there was another person in your bed, someone who felt very familiar.

oh no...

"nagi ???" you whisper-yelled it, patting his face lightly and turning the lamp on to get a clear veiw of your boyfriend.

"nagi wake up, your not supposed to be here" you sat up and began shakimg him this time.

nagi only groaned and wrapped his arms around his arms around your waist, nuzzling into the side of your thigh. "shhh, m' tryna sleep"

you shook your head and attempted to unwrap his hands from your body, with much struggle, he was surprising strong for being half asleep.

"nagi stop, nagi it's monday—a school day, you were supposed to be gone last night, why didn't your parents pick you up?"

"didnt tell them too"

"didnt tell them too...whadday mean didn't tell them too—im gonna get in trouble—wait a minute, nagi you didn't..."

"didnt what" his voice unmuffled as he moved his head to rest on your lap, his eyes staring directly at your own.

"you didnt lie to your parents and say you could stay for the whole week...did you?" you cupped his cheeks, studying his expression.

he didn't answer, "kiss me"

"nagi now is not the time—"

"kiss me pretty, please?"

you stared at him for a moment before leaning down, softly pressing your lips on his.

"good now?"

he looked dazed, and he was quiet so long you'd thought he didn't hear you. "almost"

your hands which had previously been rubbing soothing strokes across his face were quickly held behind your back.

he kissed your belly softly, relentlessly pressing butterflies into your body. "nagi that tickles" you giggled, trying to break free from his grasp.

"really? does it?" he murmured, rubbing his nose in the crevasse of your thigh.

"it does, now let go we have to get ready for school before my parents wake up"

he continued nuzzling your body however, then began slowly pushing his other hand against your chest to lean you back.

"i can make you feel alot more than tickling if you let me"

your cheeks felt hot. jeez, what has gotten into him !

"mmh, tempting but we cant and you know that—look it's already 6:09 we gotta g—OH!"

your stentence was cut off by the sensation of nagi feeling you through your shorts. his hands releasing your wrists long ago, he was now tugging at your pj's in hot desperation, probing his nose against your—

"nagi! what are you doing! school remember? we have to be there at 7"

"but do we reallyyyy..." nagi groaned, the vibrations sending shudders up your spine.

"y-yes, really, we have to be there, my parents own this house remember? not me"

"fine, but ill only go under one condition"

you sighed in preparation, for whatever rediculous reason was coming your way.

"and that is?"

"i get to stay over for the rest of the week AND, you sit on this right here..." he pointed too his mouth, and you squeezed your thighs together at the proposition.

"nagi, staying over defeats the purpose of you leaving, a-and i dont think that second option would be good for us either..."

"you wanna test to see?"

"i-i,—test and see what?"

"how bad our second option would be"

"..." he began moving in your silence, flipping your legs over his shoulders and kissing your belly once again.

"i'll take that as a yes"

an's: nagi is needy but somehow this still came out ooc, ( do i consider that a win or what...? )

#fanfiction #anime #blue lock #skullgirl #bllk headcanons #bllk fluff #bllk imagines #bllk x reader #bllk #bllk x you #nagi seishiro #nago blue lock #nagichi #nagi x reader #nagi x you #nagi x y/n

[harrywavycurly]

I need a conversation between Eddie and reader in It Was Just One Night when he comes over and is rubbing her back or while they are eating

Hiii babes!! I will happily give you this! I hope you enjoy all them trying to be nicer to each other but also it’s a work in progress 😂🙈💖

-find all things One Night Stand Eddie here✨

*Eddie doesn’t really know what he’s doing but you honestly don’t care because he has food*

“Is this…to like..rough?” “Huh?” “Is this…are you eating cheese fries while I rub your back?” “Yes? I’m about to be a mom I need to get used to multitasking.” “That’s true I guess…so uhm…how was your day?” “It was good oh I have something for your apartment.” “You do?” “Yeah it’s on the counter in the kitchen…don’t judge the wrapping job.” “Do you want me to open it now or like…later?” “Eddie it’s just a house warming gift…you can open it whenever you want…oh that feels so good.” “Don’t fall asleep because you’ll just face plant into your fries and I know you’d cry for wasting them.” “Wow you know me so well…don’t worry I’ll tell you when I’m getting sleepy…so how was your day?” “It was fine…worked on getting Dotty’s room together.” “What’s the theme? Rock and roll with a hint of pink?” “No I went with uhm the baby pink and pale yellow polka dot theme you…liked…it was easier to find the whole crib set and stuff so yeah hopefully she likes it.” “You hated that set when I showed it to you at the store.” “Yeah well…it grew on me.” “Did you bring your vest?” “Oh no I’m sorry I forgot.” “That’s fine I’ll just come over tomorrow…I need to see what you’ve done with the place.” “You sure you aren’t sleepy? You’re not eating your fries.” “I’m…kinda sorta…getting sleepy.” “Okay then come on let me take these…now just get comfortable and I’ll rub your back a little more.” “I want to see you open your gift.” “Uh then….just get comfortable while I go get it.” “I swear if you laugh at the wrapping I’m going to cry.” “Oh relax…it’s not even that bad…I’m a little scared to open it.” “Don’t be annoying.” “Oh wow…is this-” “the first time we saw Dotty on an ultrasound? Yes…figured you’d like to have your own copy in your apartment…sorry if the frame doesn’t go with your decor.” “It’s perfect…thanks.” “You’re welcome…do you mind turning the lamp off?” “Oh shit yeah yeah sorry…” “goodnight Eddie.” “Uhm goodnight…I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” “You can just sleep in here…don’t make a big thing about it okay? I can feel your awkwardness from here..it’s a king sized bed so don’t worry we won’t even touch.” “Are you sure?” “Mhhm.” “Words please…I really need to hear you say it…are you sure you want me to sleep in here with you? Or is it just the cheese fries and chicken nugget induced euphoria that has you saying crazy things like this?” “You are so fucking dramatic…yes Eddie it’s fine if you sleep in here with me.” “Okay…then I’ll sleep in here.” “Awesome…goodnight Eddie.” “Goodnight…uh can I say..goodnight to her?” “Sure…” “goodnight Princess…daddy loves you…let your mom sleep tonight okay? Because daddy doesn’t wanna be woken up fifty times in the middle of the night so she can go pee.” “Let’s see how well she listens to you..”

#one night stand convos #eddie munson au #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson series #eddie munson x pregnant!reader #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson x you fluff #eddie munson enemies to lovers #eddie munson slow burn #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson social media au #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson #my little dungeon master baby

[st6rly]

gods no longer.

SYNOPSIS: love, as in the feeling, is fate. love, as in the choice, is conscious (or in other words, 4 times where zhongli gets close enough to the truth of the matter and the 1 time he does) | word count: 1.8k

characters: god!office worker!zhongli x deity!barista!gn!reader

categories: apocalypse au, modern au, angst, hurt / comfort, fluff, 4+1 fic

warnings: mentions of typical apocalypse stuff ( blood, injury, death, etc.), mentions of food & drinks, ooc zhongli sorry TwT

notes: i went a little too silly and related falling in love to the cycle and formation of a rock. ok the au sounds confusing but i promise it makes sense- also i ended up using parallels as a writing device way too much in this my bad :’D

surprise surprise @lychniis / @ainescribe !! im your astro twerk secret santa :DD im sorry if this fic is messy in structure and probably doesn’t make sense in the long run but i hope you enjoy some parts of it at least TwT happy holidays !!

I. WEATHERING & EROSION.

The world was crumbling to its knees and yet, all Zhongli could think about was how his morning tea was bitter. 

Gravel crunched under his foot, topsoil turned over to reveal the small bits of life that had yet to fall through the cracks. The pavement had split, rumbles having left long and jagged fractures in the ground and buildings tilted. Sun bore down on skin battered with small cuts and contusions, a layer of dirt covering both his forearms and the formerly white dress shirt he wore. His shoes scuffed along the deserted road, steps deliberately languid. He screamed, thrashed around in his mind, prayed that others had survived. In the back corners of his mind, he hoped none did. 

Selfish; maybe that’s all he’d ever be to the people. Gold ran down his arm, trickled from the punctures left from stone and debris. The ichor in his veins served as a shackle of what he could not have and Zhongli stared down at it in disdain, fist clenched. For the better, he assured, pulled free a steel pipe from the framing of a store, and continued on. Gods couldn’t die by a knife to the throat. They could if forgotten. 

Zhongli knew he tore a seam in the dress shirt he wore when range of motion wasn’t such a struggle, able to lunge himself up over fallen street lamps and what once used to be apartments with ease. There was no destination and he was sure that if he had one, it wouldn’t be standing. 

He walked because if he didn’t, then nobody else would. Zhongli does not die easily; not in this way at least.

II. TRANSPORTATION.

The world was at an end; you wished it had come sooner or not at all. 

You pulled yourself from beneath the rumble and broken frames of the shop you had so dearly loved, clawed a hand through sharp edges and chipped paint, to come face to face with the remains of flattened machines and shattered glass panes. The first thing you noticed was the front entrance that withstood the initial fracture. The next was the blood and dusty limbs that laid on the floor. 

The grief was worn like sticky sunscreen on a beach day, a protective and mocking cover over your skin as you ran, scuffed sneakers thundering along ridges and bumps in the uneven lane. In hindsight, it was stupid of you to exert so much force when there wasn’t a place you could run to; you just needed out, to scrub the dirt and grime and blots of red and gold until the only thing that was leftover was whatever shred of dignity you still kept. Flee and leave it all behind, there was nothing for you anyways.

Until him.

“It’s you,” the man stated, finger poised accusingly, “you gave me the wrong order of tea.” 

You blinked back owlishly, lost for words as he pointed at you with a scowl. Hesitation in your actions, you slowly lowered the plank of wood with one nail stuck through it in your hands and squinted your eyes. The sleeves of his shirt were ripped and rolled to his biceps, hair tied back loosely, and posture high on alert as he clutched onto a metal rod with a death grip. 

“And you are…” you trailed off, voice cracked and lips dried as your throat protested the strain of letting the words out. It had been months since the dirt beneath your feet started to split; weeks since you’d seen another share the means of language. 

“An unsatisfied customer.” The reply was blunt and left no room for argument. It was not a final answer. 

If he hadn’t just been locked in a stare down with you mere minutes ago or held himself in such a manner, you would’ve snorted and laughed it off. 

“Listen, I really don’t think now is a good time to be talking about tea.” you groaned, a heavy sigh falling from your lips. “It’s not like I can fix it either.” 

The stranger responded with silence. His eyes darted quickly over your figure and you shifted your weight from foot to foot.  

“Travel with me.” 

You blinked once, twice, stared at him until your eyes burned and forced you to close them again. Words died out on the tip of your tongue, the embers and syllables smothered out in the muddled mess of your own thoughts.

“What?” you croaked out. He looked back as if it were common sense. 

“You’re one of them.” It was only after those words that you realized he had fixed his gaze to your arm. A shaky breath left your lips, the sting of the cut underneath a flimsy wrapping of torn cloth grounding. You could feel it now, the way the liquid gleamed when caught under the light, its brilliance shown as it started to trickle down your skin again. 

One of them. 

“There’s nothing left here,” he muttered, the ghost of a smile on his lips. Your jaw went tight and nails dug into the soft flesh of your palms. 

“You think I don’t know that?” The words were bitter as they left your throat. “Do you think I’m that detached?” 

He ignored you. 

“Come with me,” he took a step closer and held out a hand. “You won’t be forgotten.” 

It was neither warm or inviting, but enticing nonetheless. He knows, you calmed yourself, he knows he can’t kill me. 

“If not for that, then for the company?” 

Blindly, stupidly, you took it.

III. DEPOSITION.

Tin cans rattled softly, the noise muffled by the worn fabric of what you called a backpack, as you rummaged through food and water supplies. The box you pulled out was supposed to be white, the plastic smooth and red cross marked in the centre bright and bold. Somewhere underneath the dirt, it still was. 

He’s all too familiar with the furrow of a brow and the soft brush of fingers against his shoulder. He suppressed a shiver when your breath tickled his neck, held in a sigh when you blew gently on the cut after cleaning. With careful movements, you wound the bandage around his arm, the occasional ghost of your skin against his startling. Zhongli found it wasn’t unwelcome. 

It was you who broke the silence. 

“You aren’t who you say you are,” you stated, words hushed and still rough around the edges. He locked eyes with yours, searched them only to come up empty; not a single bit of malice or spite was present in the look you gave him. That was either a good thing, or an equally bad one. The ground was stained with tinges of gold, bits that clumped up dirt, left shimmer in its wake. The small pads of cotton used to wipe the bleeding were stained vibrant yellow. 

He barked out a laugh; the sound was foreign to his ears. 

“You’re one of them. One like me,” you whispered when his voice died down. 

“And we’re different in every way,” he said, hand clutched to his ribcage at the cramp that began to form. “Why do you insist on fighting so hard?” 

“What?” 

“We’ve lost what makes us like this. Why do you continue to try?” 

“We were, I was, never a proper god to start with,” you spoke carefully, considerate. “It was never up to me what went on.” 

“In the blink of an eye,” Zhongli matched your tone, “you could wish this all better.” 

“Just as you could make it all the worse.” You hummed and leaned your head back, eyes averted away from him. “I guess I just found something worth trying for.”

Zhongli’s heart pounded.

IV. METAMORPHISM.

“Grab my hand!” 

The Earth groaned and rumbled, opened its mouth, swallowed up buildings and wires without much thought. You braced yourself against the broken chain fence, glancing up at where Zhongli stood up on the roof opposite from you, having made it before the cracks had begun again and the distance grew. 

Grave desperation set his nerves alight, every fibre alert, and arm reached out to where the joint could’ve pulled loose had he gone farther. His face pulled into a cruel grimace as the concrete ledge of the other building dug into his stomach below the ribs and something in him burned, shouted and throbbed beneath layers of flesh and bones, in an intelligible mess of tightness and ache. 

“Please, Y/n!” he shouted. Begged. He’d bare his throat to you in a heartbeat if it meant you believed in this, believed in him.  

You jumped. His heart dropped to his stomach, legs weak, when your hand grasped his wrist and met his eyes. Feet dug into the cracks of the barrier, he pulled you to him, the quiet gasp of relief he let out once you touched down on solid ground lost to the wind. 

God can’t die. Gods cannot die, he repeated to himself, a mantra of painful reassurance. Zhongli’s hands melded with the fabric of your shirt, cloth twisted in a similar way that could only mock the feeling in his chest. 

You tugged on his hand, laced your fingers slowly with his before the rumbles started again. Down the both of ran, across unsteady roofs and rusted fire escapes, until the sky turned dark and the shakes stopped, 

Adrenaline, nerves, the worry he’d lose you again, whatever it was, he fell for it. It was winter when he first kissed you under the moonless sky; it felt more like early spring with the warmth that still laid heavy in the air and the dry crust of dirt that coated everything. 

“You should have just let me,” you had mumbled against his lips the same night. 

“I made a promise and I intend to keep it,” he replied back, the words sitting just right as he spoke. “I wish it were more. You deserve more.”

“This,” you hummed, a hand cupping his cheek, “is more than enough.”

V. ROCK MELTING.

It was summer when the ground beneath his feet first began to give out and the streets ran rampant with silence; it’s summer again when he found a new life with you.  

This was all laughable, really. Hands intertwined, the sun that peaked over the horizon and set alight to the dust in the air, the domestic nature, it all was a joke. You’d, turned and brushed stray hairs from his face with light touch and features set into a grim, yet foolishly hopeful, face. 

He gazed at you like you could craft the universe anew, match his destruction blow for blow and reverse everything. In some sense, you could. Not this one though. 

“You could find them again, you know,” you mumbled, not so he couldn’t hear but it felt right. “What would you do if you did?”

Zhongli paused, licked his lips as he stared out into the open expanse of the wasteland. 

“My love is a choice,” he smiled as he spoke, a delicate thing, “and that choice is you.” 

“Took you long enough,” you chuckled with a soft nudge to his shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Zhongli released a long sigh, squeezed your hand and traced an outline around the joints of your thumb, before letting out a small ghost of a chuckle when you squeezed back. How low he had fallen, mad at something as simple as the grime that separated the true touch of your palm in his. “It did.” 

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗ #astronetwrk #zhongli x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #zhongli fluff #zhongli angst #genshin fluff #genshin angst #! notepad.txt #zhongli x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

[bookshelf-dust]

kids show up, and i get no kisses.

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,254

warnings: swearing, suggestive comments, fluffy fluff

a/n: hi!! some billy for you. this is my way of romanticizing a holiday i’m not totally over the moon for, but this is how i wish it’d be. if you don’t celebrate it, you can skip this, or imagine eating a whole bunch of stuff you like, or ignore me as a whole. this is also me encouraging byler. i hope you enjoy it!! <33

————

Billy's palm was warm where it rested on your bare thigh, callouses scratching back and forth from time to time. He'd made himself at home, his legs over yours, sticking where skin met skin. He had on those little green shorts despite the fact that it was freezing outside.

It was one of those days where neither of you had to work, and it was too cold for him to go outside. A day where he insisted on being on top of you the whole time, insisted on being all over you. Not that it bothered you. You did live together after all.

Billy was staring at the television, some rerun of something on. You thought he was paying attention, but his words told you he'd really been off thinking away.

"Are we supposed to, like, do Thanksgiving or somethin'?"

This would be your first major holiday living together, and honestly, you'd thought about it, but you weren't really sure. You certainly didn't want to go home, and that wasn't going to happen for Billy either.

You turned to look at him, light from the tv creating shadows on the slopes and plains of his face. He looked so pretty. "Do you wanna? Like eat together maybe?"

"Hm. Maybe?" Billy rubbed his nose. You reached over him to pull the chain on the lamp, room darkening from the now fully set sun. He set a hand on your back to steady you, but when you moved back he pulled you fully in his lap, setting your forearms on his shoulders.

"Did you celebrate it at home?" You questioned tentatively, swiping a thumb over his freckles and giggling lightly because of how much you liked them. He wouldn't even scold you for your fawning anymore.

"Mom cooked when I was a kid, but clearly that went to shit. Susan fucked something up on accident once and then Neil just made us go out to eat after that, or eat leftovers. I think we might've gone to like a grandparents or something when I was really young? I don't know."

"Why don't we figure something out, yeah? Pick stuff out. Maybe we could have Max over?"

Billy contemplated, dramatically taking your face in his hands. "Okay," he drawled.

————

That's how you found yourself in the grocery store, list in hand as you searched through the potatoes for some that looked promising. You found some just as Billy returned with the peas he'd wanted.

Moving to another section, you looked through the pie crusts before glancing up to ask Billy for help. You caught him in the act of racing down the aisle, body hoisted up on the cart, leg pushing him off of the tile until he reached the end cap and spun around. Clearly he was bored.

He caught your gaze, tossing his head back and laughing because you'd seen him. But you didn't mind when he got like this. Any chance for him to release some of that childhood energy was good. Deserved.

"Need somethin' baby?" He put his hands on his hips, out of breath.

"You want pumpkin or apple pie?"

"Pumpkin."

"Good. Wasn't gonna make apple anyhow."

He grinned at you, fixing the collar on his jacket, brown leather worn in from years of wear. "What else do we need? I can get whatever you want."

He peered over your shoulder at the list, reading the things you hadn't marked off yet. "Milk, eggs, gravy. Come on sweet thing." Billy placed one hand on the cart, reaching the other out to take yours and place it on his belt so you could grab hold. "I'm on it."

————

Billy was finishing deviled eggs when there was a knock at the door followed by, "I'm coming in! Please be decent!"

You laughed over the stove where you were finishing mashed potatoes. Max entered the kitchen along with Lucas and Will.

Billy wiped his hands off. "Hi boys. Hi shitbird." You turned in time to catch their hug—short, but kind, and followed by a yank of Max's pigtail.

Will made his way over to you. "Smells good." He hugged you sweetly and then snuck a roll. Lucas followed, and then Max.

"Are we having macaroni?" She asked, hopeful.

"Your brother made it." You looked over at the timer on the counter. "It's almost done." She laughed in triumph before offering her help, which you declined, telling the three of them to do whatever.

Billy cut up the turkey into thin slices, so that it was "fall-y apart-y" the way you liked, and then the five of you sat on the floor around the coffee table in the living room to eat, the Macy's parade on in the background.

Will sat to the left of you, Billy on your right. You took this as your gateway to breach the question, knowing he recognized your home as a safe space, even though everyone knew now. You turned to him and he looked up, watery doe eyes meeting yours. But apparently, Billy was wondering the same thing as you.

"How's Mike?" He asked, looking around you, beating you to the question.

Will blushed, but smiled nonetheless. "He's good. He's really good. Finished a campaign the other night."

"Yeah? That's good."

You all drifted into varying conversations throughout your meal, Billy and Lucas talking about basketball, while you, Max, and Will critiqued the varying dance groups in the parade or talked about what they were doing on fall break.

Eventually, Billy helped you clean up while the kids set up Monopoly on the table in place of the food.

Standing in front of the fridge, rearranging the Tupperware, Billy wrapped his arms around you, snuck his warm hands under your shirt to rub at the chub of your tummy. His nails grazed your sides, making you laugh.

You shut the fridge, turning around to face him. "Something you need, Mr. Hargrove?"

His smile reached his eyes, and you reached out for his freckles again. He leaned into your touch. "Just you. And I want pie."

"'Course you do. Anything else?"

"Kisses. Kids show up, and I get no kisses, even in my own damn house. Pretty please?" He batted his lashes at you. "I've been so good today."

"Today."

He scoffed. "Rude."

You took his face in your hands and kissed him anyhow, slow and sweet, eliciting a groan from him. You pulled away, but he muttered an "Uh, uh," instead.

This time he ran his tongue along your bottom lip, before slipping it into your mouth. You pulled away this time, making him pout. "B, in case you forgot, there are minors on the premises."

He kissed your forehead. "Yeah, yeah."

Speaking of, said minors joined the two of you in the kitchen and you doled out pie to each of them. Leaving you and Billy alone again, you watched as he spooned out cool whip on either of your slices. He rubbed your nose, ridding his index finger of the creamy substance he'd gotten on it.

He used it as an excuse to lick it off, swiping his tongue over your nose. "Billy!" You giggled—exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for.

The five of you spent the rest of the afternoon talking about everything and nothing, whining over board games, and eating yourselves so full that there was no other choice but for all of you to nap in various locations, splayed out over whatever surface was around.

You couldn't have asked for anything better.

————

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

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

[missmyfriend45]

Pillow Talk

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Summary: Jay comforting you after a tough day

Word count: 1.2k

꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳꙳

It’s 3:46 a.m., and I am still wide awake. I slowly lift my head from my pillow. I could see that it was still dark outside. A little light was starting to seep through the curtains, indicating that the night was about to end. Thank god.

I didn’t even realize how much time had passed since I'd been lying here. I stare at the clock again, trying to make sense of what has happened. The events kept replaying over and over in my head, trying to figure out where it went wrong.

It was just like any other case. Jay and I were on a stakeout, waiting for our suspect, who was believed to be involved in a string of armed robberies. We spotted him near a convenience store with a backpack and something under his jacket, and he was headed straight for the store. We knew we couldn’t wait for backup, so we radioed in for some help and went after him. When we entered the store, the robber had already been waving his gun around. Jay and I immediately sprang into action. I started clearing out the rest of the store, helping the remaining customers to the back, while he engaged the suspect. When I turned my attention back to the robber, my heart went cold. He was pointing his gun at Jay.

Jay, meanwhile, had drawn his gun out and was shouting at the robber to drop his weapon, trying to deescalate the situation, but the robber didn't listen and, in fear of getting arrested, fired a shot at Jay. My heart raced as I watched the bullet hit him.

Everything happened so fast after that. It's all been a blur. Jay, stumbling backwards, lying on the floor..... Me, tackling the robber, and then trying to help Jay…. The screaming customers... Patrol arriving…

Later on, when the adrenalin faded, I realized what a close call it had been. He was lucky that the vest caught the bullet. If it had hit him even an inch lower, he would've bled out on the floor—he could have died.

And as I was lying here beside him, the realization hit me again hard, and I felt a chill run down my spine. I almost lost him today, and I didn't want to believe it. I just can’t imagine my life without him. Not seeing his beautiful eyes looking up at me, his infectious smile, not hearing his voice, or not feeling his warm touch on my body ever again. The idea of losing Jay was too much to bear; it made my heart ache. From that moment on, I just couldn’t close my eyes, afraid that when I opened them again, he wouldn’t be there next to me.

The thought terrified me and seeped through every bone in my body. I realized I was shaking, and it wasn’t from the cold. I looked up at his face, my eyes drinking in his every feature, trying to calm myself down.

He was fast asleep, his bare chest rising calmly with every breath. I could see the purple bruise from where the bullet had hit his vest; the blanket couldn’t cover it up completely. I reached out to touch it gently, but I stopped myself.

I shouldn’t disturb him; he needed his rest after the day he had, but then I knew I needed him more. I know it sounds selfish, but in this moment, I didn’t care. I needed to touch him. I know that without it, I would fall apart. I needed to make sure that he still existed.

So I carefully shifted to his side and put my head on his chest. With my arm around his waist, I pulled him as close to myself as I could and nuzzled further into his neck.

He slowly started to stir, and on instinct, he pulled me into his embrace.

Lying there and listening to his beating heart, I just couldn’t hold back my tears any longer. What if he had died? How would I survive without him?

He probably heard me sniffing in his ear, because the next thing I noticed, he started slowly caressing my arm.

"Hey, babe, is everything okay?" He asked, his voice raspy from sleep. I couldn’t find my voice, so I just shook my head.

"What’s wrong?" He reached for the lamp, and in a moment, our bedroom was filled with light. I still couldn’t speak, so I looked up at him, and I saw his face filled with worry.

I probably don’t look so good right now; my eyes are red and puffy from the lack of sleep and crying, so I can only imagine how much I scared him with that.

"You okay? Are you in pain? Please talk to me. You’re killing me over here." – I heard the desperation in his voice, so I had to pull myself together, at least long enough to give him an answer.

"Jay, I’m so sorry; I should have had your back,"  I whispered, my eyes filling with tears again.

"Hey, hey, hey... "What are you talking about?" his eyes pleading.

"This afternoon, when he shot you... It shouldn’t have happened." My voice trembled.

Realization struck him. "No, listen to me; hey, look at me," he says, and he cups my face. – "It is not your fault; it’s not on you; do you hear me? You did everything right today. You cleared the store, you helped the customers, and you took down the suspect. You couldn't have done anything more."

"I still feel like I should have done more to protect you. You could have been seriously hurt." If you died… I can’t lose you, Jay; I just can’t." – I violently shook my head.

Jay's eyes softened as he looked at me, his hand still cupping my face. "I know how you feel," he said gently. "And I can't imagine what I would do if something happened to you either."

"But you have to remember," he continued, "that we're in this together, and we look out for each other. And today, you did everything right. You were amazing out there."

Jay leaned in, planting a soft kiss on my forehead. "And I'm always here for you, no matter what. I'm not going anywhere."

I let out a deep sigh, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. "Thank you," I said softly, turning to face Jay. "For being there for me."

Jay smiled, wrapping his arms around me. "That's what partners do," he said.

I leaned into him, and I closed my eyes, letting myself sink into his embrace and feeling the tension and worry of the day slowly melt away. I was thankful for Jay’s presence, his touch, and his words of comfort.

"I don't know what I'd do without you," I confess to him, my voice barely recognizable.

Jay looked at me, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "You'll never have to find out," he said firmly.

"I love you," I whispered, feeling the words tumble out of my mouth before I could even think. "With everything I have".

Jay smiled, pulling me even closer to him. "I love you too," he said softly. "And I always will."

He slowly laid back down on the bed, pulling me along with him.

"Now, try to get some sleep, alright"? I nodded, and he switched off the light.

As the darkness began to take over, I couldn't help but feel grateful for the love and support I have in my life. And as Jay's steady breathing filled the room again, I knew that he was right—he wasn't going anywhere. We were in this for the long haul, and together, we can face anything.

#jay halstead #jay halstead fanfiction #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd #one chicago

[alovesongtheywrote]

Nightmare Academia P.15 | Spencer Reid x Reader

♥ Summary: In this chapter of Nightmare Academia, a prank has unforeseen consequences. [Prof!Spencer Reid x GN-Prof!Reader]

♥ Warnings: ghosts. also, maeve, a little bit

♥ A/N: yeah, i added a ghost subplot. why? because i wanted one

♥ Word Count: 2244

Series Masterlist

♥♥♥

You knew what prank could you pull with the weight of Reid’s expectations on your shoulders.  

It was simple really- simple and perfect.  It would be subtle, but once he noticed, oh, it would be so annoying.

Book by book, you were going to steal the entirety of Spencer’s personal library and replace it with your own.  Would it take a million years?  Yes.  But fuck, it would be so worth it to see him get grumpy about this.  You would give him exactly what he’d asked for.

Something to be mad about.

Sneaking into Spencer’s office wasn’t difficult.  You knew when he would be out, and you knew how to pick a lock.  After breaking in, all you had to do was pick a book and leave one in the space left behind.

You went for a classic- Pride and Prejudice.  You slipped the book into your bag, careful not to damage the delicate thing.  In its place, you left some random romance from your shelf.  You’d read it years ago.  There was no substance, only smut, and a paper thin plot that would drive Reid up the wall if he read it.   

Once the deed was done, you bolted from Reid’s office.  If anyone asked, you would have told them you didn’t even know where it was.  That would’ve been a lie, but whatever, you were being sneaky.  

That evening, you returned to your own office.  As you slid into your chair, the lights flickered.  The lamps, the lights above you, all of them.  Making a mental note to get that checked, you stashed Reid’s copy of Pride and Prejudice away inside your desk.  There it would stay, lying in wait until all of Reid’s collection was in your possession.    

The second the book was stored away, Reid’s face appeared in your doorway- an occurrence which grew increasingly common with each passing day.

“Reid!  Hi!  What’s up, do you need something?”

“Yeah, actually.  You haven’t seen my copy of Pride and Prejudice, have you?  I can’t find it anywhere, I thought you might know.” 

The look on his face told you he already knew.

“No, Reid- whyever would you assume that I’d know where your things are?”

“Because you steal my things.  All the time.  Constantly.”

You grimaced a little bit, “Fair point.  Well, I haven’t seen it, but I’ll let you know if I do.  Should be hard to miss, right?  You’ve probably- I don’t know.  I can’t think of a book-related insult right now.  Pretend I said something horrible.” 

He rolled his eyes at you as a smirk crossed his lips, “I thought I told you to stop going easy on me.”

“You did.  This isn’t me going easy, this is me being stupid.”

He sighed, “You’re not stupid-”

“Bold assumption.”  

Spencer paused after that.  He didn’t say a word.  He just stood there for a moment, lingering in your doorway like a ghost.  

“Y’know, if you’re going to steal my books, you should at least bother to give them a read-through.”

“Hehe, a Reid-through.  Like Reid.  Because your name is- anyway.  Good night, Reid.  Good luck finding your book.  Get the hell out of my office.”

He let out a soft laugh, “Good night, (L/N).”

“Good night.  Loser.”  

You could hear his bark of laughter echo through the hallway.  

You leaned back in your chair after he was gone.  The book seemed to hum from the desk drawer.  You thought, for a second, about taking Reid’s advice.  Of course, you didn’t.  

Why would you ever do what Reid asked of you?  Exactly.  You wouldn’t.  Just like Reid said, you would never take his words to heart.  Besides, you just assumed that he’d anticipated your wicked scheme and placed plastic bugs or some other shit inside the pages for you to find.  You would not be foiled by something as simple as a plastic bug!  Not this time!

Over the next few weeks, your crime spree continued- and you had plenty of crime to commit.  Reid had an insane amount of books on criminology, philosophy, psychology, sociology, and a handful of classic works of fiction- and you were 100% sure he had fully memorized each and every one of them.  

He even had a weird amount of your personal favourites.  Books you loved, books you had written analyses on- Pride and Prejudice wasn’t the only one.  Baldwin’s Giovanni’s Room, Ginsburg’s Howl, Shelly’s Frankenstein.   Of course, you nabbed them.  You took everything you could get your terrible gremlin hands on, stashing the product of your crimes away in your office.  

With every book you stole, you filled the empty spaces left behind with books of your own.   Slowly, Spencer’s collection of books became yours, and yours became his, and he didn’t even seem to notice.

Then you found The Narrative of John Smith.

The book was lying on his desk when you found it.  It was far too easy to just grab the thing and run.  You returned to your own office at the end of the day, body electric with the joy that petty theft brings.  You placed the book in a desk drawer, planning to forget about it like you forgot the rest of his collection, but something wouldn’t let you.  Something was different this time.  The book seemed to burn in your mind, begging to be taken from its hiding place.

You took Reid’s advice.  

You opened the book.  Inside was the text you expected to find- the Narrative of John Smith.  There was nothing too special inside.  No annotations- no little notes scribbled in the margins, no phrases highlighted or words circled.  There was just one quote, on the very first page inside the cover in handwriting that didn’t belong to Reid.  

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another." 

Thomas Merton.  It was a beautiful quote- but as you ran your fingers over the inked letters, you couldn’t help but feel that you’d stumbled onto something you weren’t supposed to.  This note felt like a secret, some hidden part of Spencer that you weren’t meant to see.  

You could feel eyes on the back of your neck.  As you shut the book’s cover, a chill ran up your spine.  Goosebumps covered your arms.  You tried to shake it off.  Surely this was just a manifestation of your guilt for finding a secret of Spencer’s- the lights flickered.  

You felt a breath against the skin of your neck.

There was no one there.  You spun around searching, but your office was empty.  You were completely, entirely alone.

You nearly threw that fucking book across the goddamn room.

You didn’t, of course, but you almost did.  You weren’t sure how Spencer managed to find a haunted copy of The Narrative of John Smith- the book itself was uncommon enough- but of course, he fucking did.

Honestly, when you thought about it, it made sense.  If you were to pick one person to have a haunted book, it would be Reid.  His eyes held a million tragedies inside of them.  The man himself looked like the ghost of a Victoriran child that died of tuberculosis.  It wasn’t surprising at all, then, that the man himself would be haunted.

You did want to return the book, though.  You could complete the rest of your prank without it.  Stealing all but one of Reid’s books would still be a good prank, you were sure of it.  Even if it wasn’t, was it worth risking a haunting for the sake of a joke?  Nope.  Nah.  Not in the fucking slightest.  You scuttled back to Reid’s office as fast as you possibly could.  

The halls were empty this time of night.  Spencer’s office was in the same condition.  The door was shut, but not locked, and the lights were off.  You slid inside as quietly as you possibly could.  Your heart pounded in your chest as you moved through the dark.  Those unseen eyes were still following you.  You placed the book down on his desk.

The moment you did, the lights in Spencer’s office flickered on.  Your heart stopped in your chest- behind you, someone cleared their throat.  Without a second thought, you picked up the book and actually threw it across the room.

It landed, with a thud, against Reid’s face.

“Ow!”

“Oh shit!” you exclaimed, covering your mouth with your hands, “Holy fuck, I’m so sorry- are you okay?”

Spencer shook off the blow relatively quickly, “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m- (Y/N), what are you doing in my office?”

“I’m uh- I was…  You have a lot of interesting books.” 

Spencer raised an eyebrow, “So you were stealing my stuff, again?”

“Maybe.  Hey, just by the way, I think your book is haunted.”

Spencer just rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.  He didn’t say anything else.  Instead, he looked down, away from you, turning his attention to the book you’d thrown in his direction.  The cover had opened exposing the first page.  The Thomas Merton quote glared at you from the page, dark ink visible even from the other side of the room.  

Spencer stayed silent for a moment.  You couldn’t see his face, but you could hear his breath hitch.

He knelt down slowly, taking the book into his hands.  His fingers wrapped around the cover carefully, like the tome was a delicate, precious thing, “Where did you find this?”

His voice was low, almost ominous- Spencer almost didn’t sound like himself.  

“It was on your desk this morning.  I just grabbed it, I didn’t- I swear I didn’t plan on throwing it across the room.”

“Good,” he got up without looking at you.  His focus was on the book, on the first page, on the quote, “Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t, I promise.  I’m-”

“Don’t apologize again.  Just… don’t take this,” he walked towards you, keeping his eyes on the pages in his hands.  You backed up, pressing your body against his desk.  You gripped the edge of it tightly, nails almost biting into the wood.  

Spencer stopped just in front of you, towering over your body with every cursed inch of his height.  When he finally looked at you, when his eyes met yours, there was something uncannily close to grief in his eyes.

“I know I told you to make me mad, but- don’t do this.  You can have whatever else you want.  You can take whatever else you want.  Just… don’t take this.”

“Okay.  I’m s-”

“What did I just say about apologizing?”

“Right, right, my bad.”

He placed the book down on the desk.  He left his hand there, flat on the desk’s surface.  His arm caged you in, slightly.  You could feel your heart begin to race, and you fought a silent, internal battle to get it to stop doing that.  

“That’s a little too close to sorry for me.”

“Ah, right.  I’m… sorry, fuck.”

He shook his head,  “A PhD in English and you can’t find anything to say?”

“Leave me alone, Reid.  I’m tired and scared.”

He scoffed, turning away from you to lean against his desk, “Scared?  Of what, ghosts?”

“More or less.”  

You couldn’t see his face, but you could practically feel him rolling his eyes.

“What would a ghost want with you?  You haven’t killed anyone, right?  You aren’t someone’s unfinished business?”

“Not that I know of.”

“Then you’re perfectly safe.”  

“Oh?  And when did you become a ghost expert?”

“Probably that time I died.”

You paused, eyes widening as you processed exactly what Spencer said.  Last time it was, “I’ve been shot three times.”  This time it was, “I’ve died once.”  You were suddenly sure that this man was trying to drive you insane.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard what I said, (L/N).”

You blinked.

“Spencer?”

“Mhmm.”

“Are- are you a ghost?”

He didn’t answer you.  The two of you stood there for a minute, just listening to the buzz of the fluorescents outside.

“(L/N)?” He broke the silence.

“Yes?”

“Get the hell out of my office.”

“Right-!  That’s- I’ll go.  I’m sor- fuck.  Yeah, okay, bye.”

Reid said nothing.  He just watched you leave, not smiling until you were safely out of the room.  He reached back, then, for the book.  

It wasn’t there.

He turned to his desk, searching the top of it for the familiar cover, but he found nothing.  The book was gone.  He looked to the doorway, half-expecting you to be there with the thing clutched in your hand but the doorway was empty.  

Something hit him in the back of the head.

He stumbled forward, letting out a sharp cry.  When he turned to see what had hit him, he found what he had been looking for.  

The Narrative of John Smith.

“Reid, are you okay?” you appeared in his doorway no, but the book wasn’t in your hand.  It was on the floor, pages open to the carpet beneath it, “I heard you scream, and I-”

“I didn’t scream,” Spencer reached out, picking the book back up.

“Yeah, you did.  You made a little aaa noise.  Is everything okay?”

Spencer didn’t answer right away.  He just looked at the ink on the book’s first page.

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone; we find it with another." 

“Hey, (L/N)?  About those ghosts-”

♥ Tags: @icarusignite, @usuallyunlikelyfox, @maraudersforlife2005, @fictionalcomforts, @morgthemagpie, @iiheartbowie, @digitalhearts, @corpsebridenightamare, @ghostatrixx, @reiding-writing, @mywellspringoflife if you asked to be tagged and i forgot, pls let me know!! if you would like to be tagged and aren't, also let me know :D

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x gn!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #x reader #nightmare academia

[madychi]

List of Random ROTTMNT headcanons/ rando ideas

Raph and Donnie duo! Pt.1 Because I love these two in Rottmnt and they need mire moments I-

Raph has dubbed their little duo “Jam Bros”. His thought process? Red and Purple, Cherry and Grape. Jam. Jam Bros! At first Donnie was against it, but it grew on him over time.

With Mikey wanting to be considered a big boy now, Raph has turned to calling Donnie his baby brother. Donnie would sooner die than admit he loves it.

Raph knows Donnie is very touch repulsed, and likes to be the one initiating and sort of physical contact, so he’ll orbit around Donnie and let him come to him.

Donnie, as a young turtle tot, felt safest around Raph (Raph rasied them as tots for the most part because Splinter was depresso you can pry this headcanon from my cold dead hands-) and always clung to him more than the others.

Once as turtle tots food ran out in the lair, and Splinter refused to go out for more because he had food stored away for himself. A few days in and Leo had had enough, sneaking off with Mikey to get food from the surface, leaving Raph and Donnie alone. Raph spent that time comforting a hungry delirious Donnie who was insisting Raph and the others just eat him. They did not eat him. They ate a totally not stolen pizza.

After stressful all nighters Donnie likes to sneak into Raph’s room and pancake on his bed under his stuffed animals. The calming Raph smell knocks him out. Raph knows when he enters his room and sees Donnie pancaked on his bed, the bed is no longer his. He will have to sleep on the floor. He legally can’t disturb the pancake. But occasionally he will set up his basking lamp over the bed for Don. Raph usually gets extra hugs afterwards.

Raph was once perusing the interwebs and found an alligator snapping turtle live feeding video. Out of curiosity he watched it. All was good until the owner of the turtle dropped a baby spiny softshell turtle in the tank to be eaten. Raph avoided Donnie for a week after witnessing that, until Donnie cornered him for answers. Raph broke down sobbing and saying he didn’t want to eat him. Don was confused until Raph showed him the video. Donnie rolled his eyes at the ridiculousness of the situation and told Raph to open his mouth. When he did Donnie put his neck right in there, terrifying Raph. But after a few minutes he got what Don was doing. If there was really a chance he’d eat him, then he would’ve done it right then and there. It was reassuring, and a bit unnerving.

Raph once woke up to find Donnie had pancaked on top of him. He managed to text his brothers and let them know he legally couldn’t move and sent pics.

Donnie modelled his first ever battle shell after Raph’s shell. He still has it stored away somewhere.

Donnie once woke up to find Raph cuddling him. Don was no fool, he knew his fate. He messaged his brothers to let them know his tragic fate and then went right back to sleep.

Hm idea for A Raph and Donnie centric episode! (Or fanfic in my case ;3)! The duo wake up and find that they’ve been captured by the Purple Dragons and placed in a sort of Escape room type building, separated but given a communicator to talk to each other. The goal? Escape. The catch? Raph has special cuffs on that weigh him down so much he can’t punch his way to freedom. Meanwhile Donnie has a shock collar on that activates the second he tried to think his way out. So the two must work together, Raph having to rely on his brain to save the two of them while Donnie has to rely on his physical advantages.

I see a lot of angst about Donnie’s first soft shell ouchie being Raph’s fault or indirectly Raph’s fault. But like lets be real. Splinter definitely gave Raphael a long serious talk about how delicate Donnie was. Raph treated him like he was more breakable then glass. To the point where it was overbearing and Donnie was constantly smothered with protection. One day Don had enough and climbed up the onto the highest surface, the fridge, and explained to Raph that he needed to tone down on the overprotectiveness or he wouldn’t come down. Raph agreed, and Don climbed on down only to loose his grip and fall right onto his shell. Raph took back his agreement and babied Donnie until he was ten.

Pt. 2: Here

#rottmnt donatello #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt raphael #rottmnt raph #rise donatello #rise raph #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt headcanons #raph and donnie #jam bros #rottmnt

[k-a-s-e-y-1-4]

Lloyd gets kidnapped again but what happens next is up to you?:

Warnings: Talk of someone being used as an object, sexualization of a minor

Lloyd was running again. Well Lloyd’s been on the run his entire life but that’s a different story. Right now he was running from two hooded figures who tried to attack him and he would have knocked them out and handed them over to the police, however they both pulled guns so Lloyd just started running. 

He didn’t get a good look at either of their faces as they were completely covered up by masks and he’s kicking himself for it now. Whatever it’s fine right now he had to worry about out running these two wannabe kidnappers. 

A gunshot rings in his ears and he ducks and keeps running. Shit they’re getting closer they’re fast. Most the time when people try and hurt him he can either put them in their place or out run them but these two were certainly an exception. 

He hopes Kai and Jay won’t be too loud for running off. Kai and Jay went into the Grocery store to grab somethings for dinner tonight because Zane was cooking tonight and Zane needed special ingredients for this meal. Lloyd wanted to go get the latest comic for his collection and then he meet up with them outside when they were done. This time he finished his shopping before them so he was sitting on the bench outside when they both came up and attempted to jump him. Hence the attempt Lloyd could have totally kicked their asses had they not pulled out a gun, where’d they even get guns? 

Lloyd begun to slow down as he couldn’t hear them coming after him anymore. Good, he was getting tired although he wouldn’t admit it. Sure he’d have to take a different, longer route home today but it was better than running all the way. 

He felt something cold and hard on the back of his head and a deep voice that said, “Don’t move a muscle or I’ll shoot.” 

Lloyd moved his hands up and looked up to find the second dude standing in front of him and glaring down at him. Damnit Lloyd thought he out ran them apparently they out smarted him. 

“Josh c’mon we don’t have all day, I want my money.” The dude infront of him stated.

So this dude’s name was Josh, good to know and they were getting paid so someone else had to be the cause of this. 

“Alright, alright calm down, damn I thought I was going to have to shoot him.” 

He felt the surface leave the back of his head and then heard wind rushing and suddenly he was out, as his vision blurred to black and lost consciousness quickly. 

                                    -

Lloyd struggled in the chains, trying not to make too much noise as he had no idea who was on the other side of the door. He tried to open the lock with a Bobby pin he had turned into a make shift lock pick. Don’t ask him where he got the lock pick. 

He had woken up chained to a chair in a dark room with its only light coming from a small lamp that hung above the table in front of him. He couldn’t remember anything else than he was running from people but he can’t remember who. Honestly this whole place reminded him of an interrogation room but based on the aching pain from the back of his head he doubts these are his buddies from law enforcement’s doing. 

How many times had he been kidnapped now? Had to be somewhere near 20 now at least. Lloyd hears the familiar click from the cuffs behind him and he can slowly feel the energy rush from his powers coming back. He slips his hands out of the vengestone cuffs. 

Before he can decide what to do next he hears footsteps nearing and manages to make it look like he’s still in the chains before the door opens. Not that he couldn’t take the person at the door it’s just most villains go on a rant about what they’re going to do and Lloyd wants at least a little bit of an idea of what he got himself into. 

The door opens to reveal a man in his late forties - early fifties, in a tight black suit. He shuts the door behind him as he walks in. 

“Welcome back to the living green ninja, how was your nap?” He stands on the other side of the table staring at Lloyd with a smug smile.

Lloyd didn’t recognize this man nor could he think of single way he could have affected him. “It was nice, now if you would I would like to get back to that.” 

The man lets out a chuckle. “Quite snarky are you?” 

“Listen I don’t care what you have to say about me, can’t we just get to the revenge speech where you tell me what you want?” 

“Oh don’t be so impatient green ninja, I mean I had to wait for you to wake up, you could at least let me give my speech.” He replied.

Lloyd sighed. “Well go ahead I don’t have all day.” 

He gave Lloyd a look. “Huh, well I can see why the boys liked you so much.” 

Lloyd gave him a confused glare.

The man leaned on the table and stared him straight in the face. “Such a pretty face on a waste of a man.”

“I’m not sure if that was homophobia, pedophilla or a little bit of both but I want no parts of it dude.”

“I’m just saying it’s such a waste for someone like you to go unused I’m sure you make a ton of money with a body like that.” The man’s says beginning to circle the table. 

“There’s so much in that sentence that’s disturbing but I think the worse is that you’re like 70 and checking me out, sir I’m like 17 hell no.” Lloyd musters out disgusted, backing up as much as he can in his chair. 

“Wow 70? C’mon I know I don’t look that old.” 

“Yeah you look older, is 85 right?” 

He gives look a glare. “You’re quite rude, I hope you know that.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t give respect to someone that refers to me like a prostitute, oh wait I’m not.” 

“I wasn’t calling you a sex worker I was just-“

“You were sure as hell implying it, I know that.” Lloyd interjects. “Is that why you snatched me? To fuck you?” 

“No! I’m sure you’d be a fun time we have a different need for you.” The man replies.

“And that is?” 

The man grins. “Well this facility needs a power source y’know?” 

Of course why is Lloyd not surprised. They always want to drain his powers why couldn’t it be something interesting at least. 

“So we brought you here to drain your powers.” The man continues. “Possibly kill you, I don’t know, hey if you survive I’m sure you’d make a lovely pole dancer.” 

With that Lloyd had heard enough. He slipped out of his chains again and blasted the man before he had a chance to think. He slammed hard into the wall and crumpled on the floor. Lloyd took his chance and ran towards the door that surprisingly wasn’t locked and had no guards around. The door seemed to be in the middle of the hallway with no one in it, neither seemed to a dead giveaway to lead out either. 

Lloyd wasn’t sure what to do, he obviously didn’t want to stay but he didn’t want to just randomly chose a door and end up captured again. 

What’s next?:

Go left and hope for the best

Go right because right is always right

Climb and hide in the ceiling to get more information and hopefully get out

#ninjago #lego ninjago #lloyd garmadon #ninjago lloyd #ninjago jay #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago kai #ninjago dragons rising

[rarilight]

And They Were Roommates

Ficlet for @pr3x inspired by @punkitt-is-here wonderfully hilarious Sigma Mare Rainbow Dash's comics.

___

In Rainbow Dash’s humble opinion, it was very cool for Fluttershy that they were now roommates. Sure, it sucked that the cottage was under renovation due to some freak firestorm, but until that was fixed, Rainbow was determined to make sure her dear friend lived the GOOD life. 

We probably need more furniture, Fluttershy had suggested, which Rainbow didn’t understand—what else would you need besides a fridge, a sleeping bag, a chair, and a TV—but she wasn’t about to say no to her friend. 

Taking on the task of finding furniture while Fluttershy did the sweeping she insisted on doing, Rainbow Dash took off into town and came back thirty minutes later with the mother of all sweet hauls. 

“Hey, Shy, check this out!” she exclaimed excitedly, slamming open her door and dragging in her loot. “We’re set for life!”

Fluttershy flew in from the kitchen, delighted. “Oh! Let me see.”

And see she would, as Rainbow proudly dragged in: 

Four milk crates of varying sizes

Several cinderblocks with 2x4 plank shelving

A standing lamp that was all twisted in a super cool way

A big plastic table that had the SICKEST graffiti on it

And that was it

“Oh,” said Fluttershy. 

“Right?!” Rainbow exclaimed, slamming a hoof on her new table. “Can you believe all this shit was FREE? They were, like, outside this house and stuff!” She puffed up her chest. “We’re lucky I saw them before some bozo took them first, huh?”

Fluttershy didn’t say anything and just stared at her new furniture, probably overwhelmed by how awesome it was. Which was great, because Rainbow loved making Fluttershy happy. 

“Where should we put these?” Rainbow asked, wanting to include Fluttershy in the process. Mi casa es tu casa stuff and all, you know? She gestured to the table. “Let’s figure that out first.”

Fluttershy gingerly approached the graffiti’d table, inspecting it before focusing in on something written in the center. 

“Uhm,” she said, softly. She looked to Rainbow. “That’s a bad word.”

Rainbow blinked. Looked at the word. Back to Fluttershy. “That’s a bad word?”

“Uhm, yes,” Fluttershy said. “A really bad word.”

Ah, fuck, Rainbow thought. 

“Uuuuuuuh…” she said, calm and collected because she was calm and collected. 

She could still save this. Right. She just had to THINK, which she was really good at. Okay. The other day when they were at Rarity’s house, Rarity’s table had this long stretchy tablecloth in the center going from one side to the other, length-wise. Rainbow thought it was stupid because it was, like, fifteen inches wide so it didn’t cover the entire table, but Fluttershy said it was nice. 

So she needed something like that. 

And then it hit her. She had one.

“Wait, I’ll be back!”

She rushed into her room and came back with something she bought once that happened to kinda work like that. Colored like the rainbow, it was called a ‘Runner’ and she’d bought it at the store to help her run. It didn’t, though, and she couldn’t return it, so she stashed it in a box in her closet. 

But, now, finally, it had a use. 

Quickly, she placed it on the table and was stoked to see it perfectly covered the bad word, even if it looked just as stupid as Rarity’s. 

“There!” she exclaimed, hopeful. “Better?”

Fluttershy nodded, pleased. “Oh, yes. That works for now.”

Nailed it, Rainbow thought, pumping her hoof in the air while Fluttershy went to one of Rainbow’s Boxes of Stuff. 

“Maybe there’s something here we can put as a centerpiece,” Fluttershy suggested. She opened the box, stared at it for a moment, and then pulled out a nail gun. “What’s this for?”

Rainbow snorted. Wasn’t it obvious? 

“To hang posters, duh.”

“O-Oh, dear.”

____

#rainbow dash #fluttershy #mlp

[starlitangels]

Mundanely Magic

Winter is coming, y'all. I get (rather famously in my family) really noticeably down in the winter. I'm trying, this year, to actually enjoy it. Complain less about the snow and the cold and how early the darkness arrives. So I wrote this to try and remind myself that there are good parts of winter too 1.4k words

This could also be considered a quasi-sequel to Meeting the Family

—

"What do you miss?" Avior asked. We sat on the edge of the First Circle's cliff, looking down into the pit. Winds buffeted us on either side. I was trying to imagine the firelight spread out by the smoke was a sunset.

"Well, right now in this heat, I miss the place where I grew up," I said. Avior leaned back on his hands and gave me a curious look. "I'm not from Dahlia. I moved there to go to the academy. The night we ended up here... back home it would be cold and there would probably be snow on the ground. Dahlia's winters are too mild for that. But right now, I'm missing sitting in the bay window at the front of my parents' house, looking out at a gentle snowfall on a weekend. A mug of hot chocolate in my hand. Snow... sometimes suppresses sound. Some snowfalls after dark render the world so quiet. It's peaceful."

Avior stared into the middle distance. "Tell me about it? I've experienced snow, but not like that."

I took a deep breath and sighed. "When it's a quiet night snowfall, the snow sometimes reflects and disperses the light of street lamps and other artificial light. So it's not dark. The effect is called snowglow or skyglow. There's something mundanely magic about watching a fresh blanket of white cover everything. One time, we'd had a fresh snowfall overnight. When my mom drove me to school the next morning, the headlights of the car glittered off the undisturbed snow on the road like it was covered in diamonds.

"As winter progresses, the snow close to the road tends to get covered in the dirty water kicked up by car tires. Then it gets all grey and black and icky. Even the ten-foot-high piles of it in grocery store parking lots that are put there to try to clear the lot. But there's nothing like watching it come down fresh and pure and white and quiet on a night when you can just stay and watch through a window with a cozy blanket and a warm mug. Maybe some soft music playing in the background. Maybe someone putting up MoonBound solstice decorations in the other room.

"A lot of my neighbors growing up celebrated Christmas. Not all of them, but a lot. And they'd have Christmas lights strung up on the outside of their houses. And in those lights, you could see these big, fat, white snowflakes drifting slow and easy from the under-lit clouds hanging low in the sky.

"Sometimes snow falls fast and heavy and builds up on surfaces quickly. You look away to make lunch and the picnic table in the backyard went from an inch of snow to six.

"But the nights when it's falling slow and lazy... if you open the window you can hear the quiet chorus of each heavy flake joining its fellows on the surface of the world. It can be difficult to hear, but if you know what to listen for, it is audible.

"Couple all that with a nice mug of hot chocolate... maybe with a little bit of caramel... it's amazing."

Avior sighed. "It sounds beautiful," he said wistfully.

I nodded. "Maybe one day, when we get out of here, you can rift somewhere cold and experience it."

He leaned and nudged me in the shoulder with his arm. "I don't think I should. Because I'd need to bring my snow expert with me."

I laughed and shook my head. "You'd be fine. The only thing that's dangerous is driving in snow if you don't know how. You'd be totally fine on your own."

Avior met my gaze. "I'm serious. I'd rather take you with me. Someone familiar with the environment and whom I am familiar with..." His Adam's Apple bobbed. "You're my friend."

I pursed my lips in a half-smile. "Thanks, Avior. I... appreciate it."

He took a deep breath. "I wish I could make us both a peaceful snowfall. Unfortunately, I don't think even magic snow could survive the heat of this Hell."

I stared at the firelight I was pretending was a sunset. "Yeah, I doubt it. But it's okay. We'll find a way to get out of here, and then one day you can see it for real. With... with me." I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my head.

He hummed softly. "I'd like that," he said.

"Me... me too." I found myself believing that.

We'd been here for a month. Testy around one another. Suspicious. Guarded. Lowering our walls and our guards slowly. Settling into an uneasy truce. A tentative alliance, almost. This companionable, easy conversation was one of the first of its kind here.

I patted his shoulder. "One day, Avior. I promise."

He grinned. "I'm holding you to that."

"I believe you."

—

Three "Years" Later...

—

"Here you go," I said, handing the mug to Avior. He took it. I sat next to him in the bay window at my parents' house, looking out. He kissed the side of my head.

"Thank you, starlight," he said quietly.

Through the wall that separated the formal living room from the kitchen and casual living room—that we'd always called the family room—I could hear my mom playing quiet music, singing along as she hung the MoonBound solstice streamers. Long strings with silver crescent moons and stars hanging off them. My dad, being the only Sonal Energetic in a family of Freelancers, was the reason we tended to celebrate the MoonBound solstice more than the SunBound.

The reason I'd brought Avior home with me.

He took a sip, not seeming to notice that the hot chocolate was still hot enough to burn. I glanced over at him. In the reflection of his gold eyes, I could see the snow falling.

I leaned against his side and went back to watching the snow falling. He wrapped an arm around me. The bay window in the formal living room was barely big enough for two adults—especially when one was a demon, since demons tended to be taller than humans. But it was cozy to snuggle together.

The snowfall was the way I'd described it to him, all that time ago in Hell. Fat, slow flakes drifting lazily toward the ground. Light bouncing off the clouds and snow despite the sun going down hours ago. Rendering the world dimly lit. My parents' street was slowly turning white as the blanket built up on everything. The trashcans near the house already had little flat, white hats on top of the lids.

Avior peeked over his shoulder toward the archway that led back to where my mom was decorating. He smiled. "I'm glad I came with you."

"Just to see the snow? Or meet my family? Or...?" I tilted my head, trailing off the question as a prompt.

"All the above," Avior said. "I've never seen snow like this."

I smiled and leaned forward, unlocking the window latch. "Listen to it. So quiet you can hear the whispering of the flakes falling."

"Starlight, you'll let the heat out," he chided in a whisper.

"I'm only opening it for a few seconds." I pulled. The window released and slid on its track to one side. Avior immediately tilted his head so his ear was closest to the outside, eyebrows scrunched.

Before raising as a surprised smile replaced the curiosity. His gold eyes glittered in the reflection of the neighbor's Christmas lights and the obnoxiously orange streetlight a few houses down. His hand found mine and squeezed tight. "This is..." He shook his head. "I don't even know how to describe it."

I grinned and shut the window. "Mundanely magic?" I suggested.

His gaze met mine. "Exactly. That's what you said the first time you told me about this, right?"

I nodded. "Yep."

"What a perfect way to say it."

Through the archway, a loud beep almost made me leap. I took a large swig of my hot chocolate—burning my tongue—and handed my mug to Avior.

Right as my mom called my name. "Will you get the cookies out of the oven?"

"On it!" I replied, already moving toward the kitchen.

—

Tag list: @pinksparkl

#Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Avior #Redacted Starlight #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

[magnolix]

The Road Home | a kny isekai { 1 }

Synopsis: Once upon a time, you were just a normal girl taking a normal trip with your normal friends. But one day, after a shrine offering gone wrong, you find yourself in Taishō-era Japan.

+ warnings: gn!reader, adhd!reader, insomniac!reader, cursing, violence, mentions of nudity, mention of trauma, pain (inflicted/received), weapons, mentions of taking sleeping medication, mentions of taking medication,

+ word count: 4.2k

+ categories: gn/m, gn/f (partially), isekai, fanfiction

+ hashira, hashira family, kagaya ubuyashiki, kamaboko squad, made up slayers

✩ author's note: this fic is heavily inspired by @kingkyoujurou's "Another Era, Another Universe". please go give it a read because without them I wouldn't have any idea of what I'm doing

chapters: one, two, three, four, five

Compared to others, you had a good life. You were almost done with college, you had a loving family, and you lived in a cute little town in the countryside. But today was different, today, you and your friends were traveling through Japan. And as much as you wanted to go and keep exploring, the sun was setting, and you couldn't risk the wrath of all your friends.

"Come on, just two more stores! I can see a ramen store right there!" You whined as you and your friends all walked into the hotel lobby. They all laughed as you got into the elevator with them.

"Come on Y/n, we went across half of the entire city. That's a lot of walking!" One of them said as she yawned. "Besides, you almost went bankrupt, it's day two and you've already spent two-thirds of your spending." Another commented, wrapping his arm around you to lean on.

You sighed as the elevator doors opened up with a ding. The four of you begrudgingly all walked down. But, nevertheless, you steeled yourself, grabbed your raincoat, your hiking boots, your bag filled with all of your necessities, and your old froggy umbrella. You smiled as you took in a deep breath and opened the door.

You made sure to lock your door and pull against the handle a few times just in case before you took your shoes off. The rest of your friends all undressed as you looked at your phone to see what you had done.

"Maiden Road, raccoon cafe, anime store, maid cafe, oh!" "What is it?" "We missed that shrine near the forest! Can we go now? They say it's best at night!" "Hell no! It's gonna start raining soon and I don't wanna get swept away!" Your other friend said as she let her hair down and snatched up a towel.

You hummed to yourself as you thought about what you all would do tomorrow. But the promise of the shrine visit was killing you. You wanted to see it, no, you NEEDED to see it. You looked back at your friends. You were still in your clothes and had the location up on your phone but you had to come up with a good excuse. After a few minutes, finally, one appeared.

"I'm gonna go downstairs to the little convenience store and buy some food. I'll be back in a second!" Your friends all waved you off as you grabbed your hotel key and made your way downstairs and hailed a taxi. This was gonna be fun.

Ever since you were little, you had always wanted to go to Japan. The food, the culture, the colors, and the people. Anything and everything made you so excited. But most importantly, you wanted to see the shrines. Of all the books you read about Japan, they always mentioned the unique and mystical shrines dotted across the country. And you were gonna try your damndest to visit every single one, no matter what it took.

You paid the driver and got out near a street lamp so you could get your barrings. You slowly began to follow your map which led you through a massive, and eerily quiet, forest. The lack of noise creeped you out and made you wish you had your headphones.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you spotted a paper lantern with the kanji "参道" on it. You followed it until it led to one lantern after another and then, in all of its glory, was the shrine. It was a tall pillar of white stone that was surrounded by smaller statues and beautiful wisteria trees. Each flower was a beautiful purple and seemed to almost glow in the moonlight.

You sighed and took a moment to catch your breath, silencing your phone and rolling up your sleeves. You walked up, bowed, clapped your hands twice, and went to reach for your--

oh,

oh no,

"HOW DO I NOT HAVE ANY COINS?" Your scream caused a stir in the forest. You panicked and patted down all your pockets. Surely you had at least one 10 yen coin, but none were found. "I can't turn back. I'm not gonna turn back." You thought about what you could offer. Paper money wouldn't be okay, nor your credit card, and then you thought about a different offering.

You walked over and pulled off a wisteria flower. You knew it was wrong and not the right offer, but you were desperate. You placed it down and yawned. You were more than ready to go back to the hotel and get some sleep, but you still had one more thing to take care of.

As you turned your heel to walk out, a twig snapped somewhere in the dark forest. How cliche, You thought to yourself. You scrambled to get your phone and turn on your flashlight but it was knocked out of your hand by a hand full of claws. You looked up and were face to face with a...a...

"HOLY SHIT IT HAS TEETH!" Your fight-or-flight instinct kicked it, and you chose flight. You ran into the forest, not caring about staying on the path, you just needed to get away. You ran past trees, jumped over rocks, and eventually tripped over a large root before landing on your face. The creature grew closer, breathing heavily and making noises like a wild animal. You turned over to meet your fate, but before you could, sleep clouded your vision and a moment later, you were out.

・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

As you started to stir, you could hear voices and a soft, flickering noise. You opened your eyes expecting to be surrounded by your friends and hospital equipment but instead were surrounded by empty beds, a few strangers, and the stench of old bandages. Your nose stung from the smell alone. You did your best to sit up but felt a pair of tiny hands push you back down.

“No no no! You need to stay down Miss L/n!” The little girl whined. She looked as if she was going to pass out, her little worried expression was precious. But that still begged the question…

“How do you know my name?” “Oh no, Miss L/n have you forgotten?” “And who are you?” “I-I’m Terauchi, don’t you remember? I work with Nakahara-chan and Takada-chan. Oh no, do you really not remember?” Terauchi looked as if she were about to cry. All of the others in the room looked at you with concern. Some even looked with pity. Could these be your friends? Did you just wake up from a coma? Have you been living in Japan the entire time? Was life a simulation? You did your best to remain calm but couldn’t.

Terauchi ran out of the room and came back with two others who you could only assume were Nakahara and Takada, following behind was a slightly older girl with big blue eyes and short hair. She walked over and held your hand as your breathing returned.

What felt like only a few minutes ago, you had been running for your life in a forest from some sort of thing. And now, you’re waking up in a whole new world surrounded by people you didn’t recognize. Even worse, these people somehow knew you. You needed to calm down.

You took in a deep breath as the girls around you all smiled and let you take your time. You did what you could to calm down as your heartbeat slowed and your pulse went to normal. Terauchi hugged you while she and the other little girls left, leaving behind the older girl.

“Can you really not remember anything?” Her voice was surprisingly stern for someone so young. Like a mom but…teenier.

“No, I can’t. And who are you?” “Aoi, and you’re in the butterfly mansion.” “That’s a weird name.”

Aoi groaned and reached into her apron, pulled out a small paper bag, opened it, poured out some medicine into a small cup next to you, and mixed it thoroughly before handing it back. “Drink this three times a day, morning, noon, and night. Don’t move around too much, you’re still too weak to be walking. And for the love of God if you need help just shout and someone will come.” As you drank, your eyes wandered around the room.

It was large enough to fit at least 8 patients but small enough to still be manageable. It was bright as well. All of the windows were wide open letting in a nice, cool breeze. The smell of the gravel and the sound of the trees reminded you of your home. You managed to take a deep breath as Aoi gave you a nod and left.

After that, it took you a while to realize this was no dream. Actual weeks went by. So much so that you had to start training. You had only ever picked up a sword to do cosplay or just to drool over the idea of having a big piece of metal in your hands, but this was new. This was going to be your life now. You were a demon slayer, more specifically a Kanoe, just like one of the other inhabitants of the mansion. Her name was Kanao from what you remembered. This meant two very important things.

First and foremost, this was not your first injury. You had been here before, fighting demons and kicking ass. Secondly, it meant that you had survived. Somehow, you and your dumbass self had survived a dozen or more demons, multiple times. However…

It also sucked.

The others around you that you had come to learn were your friends all started to leave you out of sessions. Your memory loss wasn’t enough to prove to them that you weren’t the same person they thought you were. You were left to figure out what you could do on your own. And, surprisingly, you were able to figure a little out. You learned how to block and how to swing. That was it. Just enough so you could defend yourself and run like hell away.

But even if you had learned a lot, you still had the issue of going back to the butterfly mansion at the end of the day to sleep in a room that wasn’t yours. Your phone was gone and you were slowly going insane. Plus the infinite amount of books you could find wasn’t gonna be enough for you.

But finally, after a few weeks of training and getting yourself back together, another one of the demon slayers approached you. He seemed excited as he approached you in the hallway.

“L/n! L/n! Guess what?” “Hmm?”

You struggled to remember his name before pronouncing it slowly. “Ez..ume…right?” The boy’s eyes lit up and nodded. A smile appeared on both of your faces as you listened.

“We’re heading to Swordsmith Village! We’re finally gonna get our Nichirin blades!” You raised one of your eyebrows in confusion.

“Don’t we already have swords?” “The training ones? No! Those are wooden, they could never kill a demon.” He hit the back of your head in a friendly manner. “Come on, L/n, you need to keep up.”

You let out a chuckle and rubbed your head. “Well, when do we leave?” “Before daybreak, tomorrow. Your crow should be here any minute to give you more info.” Ezume looked back down the hall at a smaller group of slayers who were waving for him to join. He smiled and waved at you before running over to join them before they all disappeared further into the mansion.

Sure enough, a few minutes later, your crow arrived practically screaming at you about your mission. As it did, you took your uniform off and cleaned it up for tomorrow. You left your room to go and eat before you and Ezume chatted for a bit; even going outside to practice your skills before you both parted ways.

The moon above you glowed in the middle of the night sky as you finally entered your room. Your face was washed, your uniform was cleaned, and even your crow was fast asleep. You pulled the covers up and held them close as the sounds of crickets and the trees waved. Yet, you couldn’t sleep. Usually, you have the option of taking some meds to help you out. But now you were forced to lay awake as the moon’s glow filled your room.

Hours went by and you continued to lay awake in your room. You didn’t have a clock but considering how late or early it was you got up and readied your uniform. But you couldn’t help but hear the faint noise of conflict a few doors down. You walked over and pushed open your door before sneaking off and creeping down the hallway. The two voices were entirely different. The first one was soft and gentle with a sad undertone, a female’s voice. The second was husky and filled with anger. A male voice.

As you approached a corner you paused and stuck your ear out to listen to the two.

“Please, Y/n just needs more time. I’m sure that they’ll be back to their duties very soon.” “You don’t understand, they’ve never been like this. Ever! Something happened in Akigawa \valley, something bad.” You could feel the house shake as you heard what sounded like a punch to the wall. “They’re practically a different person!” “Y/n has been learning, they’re getting better. It’s a memory issue--” “Repeating it to me won’t change my mind Shinobu! They had enough skills to become a Hashira!”

You let out a small yawn, it was barely above a whisper but somehow caught the attention of the two. You felt a big hand grab your wrist and pull you into the light. The man holding your wrist was tall and had white, spiky hair and surprisingly pretty, pale purple eyes. The other was more familiar to you, Shinobu, the head of the mansion. A little ravenette with purple eyes and short hair. She frowned at seeing you listening in but instead walked over and pulled the man away.

“Sanemi, that’s enough. You’re hurting them.” Shinobu smiled at you as she looked over at you. “You’re healing, that’s good! Are you excited to go to the village?” You nodded at her words only to get shouted at by Sanemi.

“Don’t speak to them as if they’re a child, they’re a demon slayer. They’re practically a Hashira--” “I am a Kanoe and I fucking enjoy it!” You said with a strange sense of pride. You stared the white-haired hashira dead in the eyes as a sadistic smile crept onto his face. He grabbed your collar and lifted you up with ease. His eyes burned red like burning hot daggers.

“What did you just say? Did a weakling just speak back to me? I must have misjudged you, maybe you aren’t ready to be a Hashira. Maybe you’re dead meat.” “And maybe you’re a bitch.” You could feel your heart racing as you said those words. A sick comeback you would only think of in the shower, you couldn’t wait to tell the others. If you were still alive at that point.

“Why I outta--” “Caw! Wake up, wake up! Caw! You must leave for Swordsmith village!”

Your crow screamed from your room as you heard several others wake up and scurry to get their uniforms on. Shinobu separated you from Sanemi before you fell down, bowed to both of them, and ran to your room, putting on your uniform and getting a small bag ready. You followed your crow out to the gates of the grand estate where you met up with the others and set off on your journey.

“Hey L/n, you don’t look so good, are you-” “Later, Ezume. Later."

.・。.・゜☂・.・☽・゜・。.・。.・゜☂・.・☽・゜・。.・。.・゜☂・

The trek to the village had been long and rough. You all had tried to stay happy and kept morale up but it was no use. The mountains you had to climb over, the valleys you had to walk through, and the stupid paths you kept getting lost on made you want to rip your hair out. Sure, it had been pretty, there were birds and stuff but it was still almost a full day of traveling.

So by the time that you arrived at the village with your company in tow, you were ready to rest. The entrance was a tall group of houses that led to a long narrow road. The sound of clanging metal and the scent of steam was almost too much for you but you went on. The others all seemed to have a designated location to go to. Some of the smiths opened their doors and gave them their blades almost immediately. Others welcomed them with open arms and offered them food and drink. Ezume walked to a small house and was led in to go and see his swordsmith, leaving you alone to stand awkwardly for all to see.

You walked around the rows of buildings, listening to the sounds of laughter and work mixed together. The smell of sake and steam drifted through the air making your nose twitch, you never really enjoyed alcohol. And as you rounded the corner, you felt an oddly familiar hand touch your shoulder.

“Y/n! It is very good to see you! How are you?” Standing next to you was a tall man in a clown mask, you hopped back a bit as you didn’t recognize him. He tilted his head and lowered himself, holding up his hands in a friendly manner. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Ah- Uhm..” “L/n lost their memory!” Ezume shouted as he walked up to you, at his hip was a long sheath which you assumed held his new sword. “They what?” The man shouted in a rageful voice. He looked between you and Ezume. “When did this happen? Was it a demon? Where is your sword?”

You put your hands over your ears as the man went on, expressing not just anger about what had happened to you, but also anger about his swords. Some of the other villagers had to practically come out and hold him back while he calmed down. As he did, another stranger appeared. He was much older, and frailer too.

“Ah, young L/n,” He said with a bow “I see that you have come for your blade, yes?” “Yes sir?” You offered him a weak smile, he let out a soft chortle and walked over to the screaming ball of rage. 

“Hotaru, you are an esteemed sword maker, please act as such.”

“Yes, Chief Tecchin.” Hotaru managed to calm himself down, stand up and took your hand to lead you to his home. He opened up the sliding doors and you were met with the sight of a busy workspace. A barrel of water, a large anvil, and several sticks of Dango everywhere, both clean and unfinished. He let your hand go and reached up to a tall shelf before pulling down a long, elegant blade.

Your eyes sparkled as you looked at it. It was long and completely black with a unique hilt. It was a lavender-colored oval-shaped hilt with a dark purple rim, on the top was a detailed etching of a familiar-looking tree next to what looked like a statue of sorts. Hotaru took a moment to admire his work before carefully handing you the blade. You took it with a grateful bow of your head before holding it in both hands. As you did, the blade began to take a beautiful greyish-pink and purple color, much like the trees that had surrounded the master’s estate when you had visited last. 

“The handle is a mixture of wisteria and cork as per your request. I understand that your hands tend to sweat during battle so the cork will be able to absorb the residue until you clean it next.” Hotaru reached over and pointed at the hilt and opened his hands as if asking for it. You gave it to him and he reached into his pocket to pull out a long piece of fabric. He set the sword down and tied the fabric across the hilt in a unique pattern before handing it back to you once more. “Try holding it.”

Because of how it had been wrapped, the blade fitted perfectly into your hands with ease, familiar and comforting ease. You stood up and twirled it around a bit, smiling and laughing like an idiot the whole time. Hotaru cleaning enjoyed seeing his work admired.

“Welp, that does it for us. I’m delighted to have seen you and hope your memory returns.” Hotaru gave you a nod as you gathered yourself and walked out, offering him a wave before walking toward the rest of the slayers.

“Yep, me too…”

.・。.・゜❋・.・⍋・゜・。.・。.・゜❋・.・⍋・゜・。.・。.・゜❋

Darkness had fallen faster than anticipated forcing the slayers to run. They still had a while before they were close to the roads but that wasn’t their main worry. Their main worry as of now was surviving, and Y/n wasn’t helping. So, with blades held tight and their minds focused on getting the hell back to the butterfly mansion, they ran as fast as they could through the tall brush, unable to see if they were heading the right way.

Darkness had fallen faster than anticipated forcing the slayers to run. They still had a while before they were close to the roads but that wasn’t their main worry. Their main worry as of now was surviving, and Y/n wasn’t helping. So, with blades held tight and their minds focused on getting the hell back to the butterfly mansion, they ran as fast as they could through the tall brush, unable to see if they were heading the right way.

“Keep going, I think I see a clearing up ahead!” Shouted Ayako, one of the others in the group of five. Sure enough, she was right. Just ahead you could see a small space surrounded by massive trees. You pulled your shit together and ran up to the open space, looking back and watching for both the others to see if anything was chasing you.

Ezume was last to follow, heaving and collapsing once he made it to the clearing. Ayako was having none of it. She kicked his side, forcing him up.

“We need to keep going,” Ayako shouted. “We need to take a break!” Ezume shouted back. “We need to get our bearings.” Yelled another. “We NEED to Shut the fuck up!” You screamed. The others went dead silent as you listened to the forest. This felt all too similar to something else.

The moon was in the middle of the sky and the forest was eerily quiet. You held up a finger to your mouth, having the others quiet down and taking up defensive positions as Ezume got himself up as well. The lack of noise creeped you out and made you wish you had your headphones. Headphones… Headphones.

“What’s the nearest landmark to us right now?” “What?” “Ayako, listen to me, where are we?” “The uh- the valley.” “WHICH FUCKING VALLEY?” “DON’T SHOUT AT ME!”

“Akigawa!” Ezume screamed as he looked around frantically. “Why? What’s wrong?” His question was answered by a twig snapping and a clicking of some hollowed mouth sounded out from the dark forest. You turned to face your enemy. A tall and gangly demon with long limbs and a tongue hanging loosely from its mouth. Its eyes were glossy as if it had been blinded and its body was covered in sparse hairs and battle scars. You went dead quiet, moving ever so closer to your group and whispering as quietly as you could.

“Everyone, don’t panic. I think it can’t see us so whatever you do, don’t-” "HOLY SHIT IT HAS TEETH!"

Your fight or flight kicked it, and you chose flight. You ran into the forest with your comrades, not caring about staying on the path or out of danger, you just needed to get away. You ran past trees, jumped over rocks, and eventually tripped over a rock before landing on your back. A loud crack broke some of the silence and you felt your leg come undone. The footsteps grew closer, breathing heavily and making noises like a wild animal. You turned over to meet your fate, not sure if you were ready to die or not.

You could hear the others running past as you locked your sight on the demon. It approached slowly, sticking its long arms out and waving them like it was using a cane. You had an advantage this time and a good one at that. Your fight or flight kicked it yet again, and this time, you chose to fight.

You managed to get up and got into a battle stance, doing your best to remove as much weight from your broken leg as possible as you held your sword, took a deep breath, and listened to what was around you.

Silence.

Heavy footsteps.

Distant screams.

And a strange sense of power coursing through your body.

You opened your eyes and spoke quietly.

“Wisteria Breathing. First Form: First Spring.” Your body lunged forward and you side-slashed the demon from the right to the left at an angle, taking its head off with a satisfying and clean cut. The demon fell to its knees, turning into ash.

You let your guard down for a moment, stumbling back and falling down, your injury getting worse as you landed on your ass. You let yourself roll onto your back and let out a deep and heavy sigh as the night air washed over you.

“sleep now, young one”

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✩ author's note pt2: HOLY CARP! FOUR THOUSAND WORDS! I guys, it's ya girl, Magnolix. I first off want to say thank you to everyone who's supported me, liked, commented, reblogged, and all of that stuff. It means the world to me ♡ In the future, I'll be doing smaller stories as well as continuing this larger story. I've never written Isekai before so this had been fun. I hope you all enjoyed this fic and I'll see ya later,

~Ciao

#isekai #demon slayer #kimestu no yaiba #fanfic #isekai story #isekai demon slayer #gn!reader #gn!mc #hashira #hashira x y/n #insect hashira #wind hashira #nichirin blade #swordsmith village #fanfiction #demon slayer fanfiction #demon slayer smut #demon slayer fluff #kny fluff #kny #kimetsu sanemi #kimetsu shinobu #kimetsu no yaiba #please like and comment #I need Tumblr interactions pleaseee #request tag

[dadr0ckmusic]

stranger things headcanons because i said so part 2 (the kids)

max mayfield

only eats green skittles

billy has told her multiple times that she needs to improve her taste in men

tried to get will to be treasurer of the mike wheeler hate club she founded. he said no

"are you ready to fucking rage?" "max we're only going to the dollar store."

she definitely takes those 6-hour, sweaty, bed-lined naps like everyday

makes those jokes like "why'd you turn the lamp on? to look at men? cause you're gay?" to mike

avid girl in red listener. "i thought you'd swing the other way since..." "WHAT THE FUCK BILLY"

"my bisexual bf and i in our straight passing relationship"

doesn't know how to spell courious,,,,, couiours,,,,, the thing george the monkey is

has zero school spirit. i don't blame her i would hate that school too

this girl LOVES hot wings and will murder everyone if they don't order wings when they get pizza

she got drugged REALLY BAD one year on halloween in cali. like girl was in third grade watching the wallpaper melt while being lectured for staying out late

would totally beat your ass if you went thrifting and found something cooler than her

she would totally get into metal/glam rock for approval from eddie and billy. eddie def took her to metallica's fort wayne concert in '86

i know this gal has a wagon full of ice and water balloons and she skates around hawkins and fucking hurls these water balloons at people she knows

dustin henderson

likes mint chocolate chip ice cream

he tried to learn a cool bike trick when he was in 4th grade and ended up breaking his arm and the bike. he never tried it again

his collection of hats is so dear to him you have no clue

takes care of a fake plant and doesn't know it. steve made robin and eddie vow to not tell him. dustin named it kevin

if he likes you enough absolutely NOTHING will get him to change his opinion on you. you killed a man? that's sick as hell. you beat steve's ass at some point? he needed sense knocked into him. you're cool as hell no matter what.

is a literal SLUT for gummi worms

call him 'casanova' or 'hot shot' and he'll be your best friend. his self-esteem would go through the roof

confuses people with facts and logic

total animal lover. he tried to be vegetarian once and gave up after like three days but its the thought that counts

him and eddie have an elaborate handshake (kind of like his and steve's in s3) and its so out of wack sometimes but always ends perfectly

he has a little photo album he hides in his closet and lucas found it one time and STILL gives him shit for it and blackmails him. "remember what i found in your closet dustin? it'd be a shame if someone were to know about it..." "okay FINE here's $20"

he cries wayyy more often than he wants to admit

he would have a crush on any steve-aged girl that ends up in the group. and when he met suzie he told the steve-aged girl that he was sorry he was off the market

he has so much gaydar its actually baffling.

will byers

he's just.... the sweetest kid on the planet

if you're apart of the lgbtq+ community, he'd be so understanding because he's gay (obvi) and he loves you! so much!

i know this mf would've made eddie postpone hellfire to go to lucas's game and watch him make the winning shot

he gets the most bitches in the party despite being gay. i do not make the rules.

he would be on the track team in high school

brings a camera with him EVERYWHERE and documents everything and makes a photo book for each person in the group

always always always worrying about your well-being especially after any upside down madness

him and max are BEST BUDS and it terrifies the party.

he would spend HOURS on a drawing for you and the meaning will make you cry. "it took a little while... but it's worth it because you mean a lot to me :)" tears ensue. "WILL BYERS YOU MEAN THE UNIVERSE TO ME"

talks to eddie for hours upon hours about lord of the rings/the hobbit. HOURS

always rides shotgun. he totally has the widest taste in music and it actually shocks people sometimes

THE. BEST. HUGGER. let me tell you. if you've been through it and he hugs you? the goddamn waterworks. no doubt about it.

makes mixtapes for everyone in the party. mixes in some prog rock for taste to 'widen their musical knowledge'

he's ticklish. but if you tickle him he's beating you to a pulp

sometimes he's SUCH a little shit and gets away with it so often

lucas sinclair

will made him a friendship bracelet and he hasn't removed it in three years.

he has really weird dreams. like when the party all stay at someone's house they always wake him up early and ask him what he dreamed about.

he likes apple juice and is very ashamed of it

if they ever go to a waterpark, lucas is FORCING mike to get on the biggest slides with him just to see him freak out

can't look at a waffle without thinking of el

threatened to sell mike to the commies once and mike didn't speak to him for a week

when max was in lucas's arms after vecna attacked her he remembered the "do you accept the risk" conversation and he broke.

one time during d&d he missed an attack against a dragon and punched the table so hard he fractured his wrist

when he shot billy in the face with the slingshot he was actually so proud of himself that he looked to see if anyone was watching and then he remembered the situation they were in

would listen the SHIT out of frank ocean.

is the opposite of "no homo" this fucker says "full homo bro" and leans in to kiss dustin lmfaooo

just so confused 24/7

him and will are absolute menaces. like they'll be getting yelled at by steve and they make eye contact with each other and fucking lose it

eleven

lesbian el ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

she loooves watching will do anything art-related

just so curious (i know how to spell curious i was joking earlier) about everything! wants to know everything about everything and will spend hours reading library books about a subject

had will braid her hair when it was long

has girls nights with max, nancy, and robin

learned about the concept of death later than normal and she sometimes says "i'm gonna miss you when you die" to someone in the party and it freaks them out

the party taught her how to ride a bike and now she BEGS them to go on bike rides even when its snowing

collects LOADS of funky socks cause she's a funky little lesbian

love love loves writing letters!! when she lived in lenora she sent soooo many letters to everyone, even steve

after the first time max painted her nails, it became her favorite color over time

keeps candy in her pockets ALL THE TIME just in case someone needs cheering up

remembers specific times and dates like when she got to california, when she met robin officially, and when joyce told her to trust her and that she's safe

gets everyone out of trouble at school because all the teachers love her

loves perfume so much. she's always asking max which ones she likes best so she can try them

mike wheeler

him and nancy fought over who got to name holly

i just KNOW this mf uses axe body spray like deodorant and its probably the reason el breaks up with him (besides the fact he's totally in love with will)

prefers coke over pepsi

eddie always compares mike to a spider and calls him skinny and gross and lanky and it sometimes makes mike sad but eddie truly doesn't mean it

scared of ladybugs

fucker hates pickles

he cried when xxxtentacion died when he really never listened to him before he died. mike even made him his lockscreen he was that devoted to being a fake fan

an asshole towards anyone he isn't friends with. even if someone in the party really likes this person he is NOT giving in

this little fucker needs his mommy to cut the crust off his sandwiches cause he's a BABY. he needs his mommy to tuck him into bed cause he's a BABY.

i know this dude's middle name is anthony or some shit

i know s2 mike would beat the FUCK out of s4 mike

his favorite animals are frogs and lizards cause he reminds me of a lizard

#stranger things volume 2 #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things hc #max mayfield #dustin henderson #lucas sinclair #mike wheeler #el hopper #eleven #will byers #max mayfield headcanons #dustin henderson headcanons #lucas sinclair headcanons #will byers headcanons #eleven headcanons #mike wheeler headcanons #stranger things x reader

[apprenticestanheight]

All is Well That Ends Well - Lawrence Gordon x gn! afab! reader - Part IV

Annnnnnnnnd, an hour and eleven minutes later, here's part four!! the next parts will be released on the seventh and fourteenth and then, unless I can manage to get a lot of writing done in not a lot of time, there'll probably be a bit of a delay between the end of The Beginning and the beginning of The Middle (I promise better titles will be created for these sections I am just. I am just terrible at titling and pull stuff out of a hat a lot of the time) but at the latest, the Middle will start in late march-early april.

Fic type - this one is so smutty, but it's also fluffy, so it's fluff that leads up into smut

Warnings - minors,, DO NOT FUCKING INTERACT THANK YOU, oral, cockwarming, edging (kind of??) mentions of the loss of Lawrences foot + prosthetics and pain and itching associated with wearing them too long

A few days pass, and on that Wednesday, after all of your classes were cancelled from a snowstorm, you wake up at eight and make a list with Aurelie over the phone of things you need to grab, organized by room for your own convenience.

For your bedroom you need to get a nightstand, wardrobe, a lamp or two, and better sheets and blankets than the ones you’d had for a decade, which were on their last legs as it were.

For the bathrooms—of which there are two, one in the primary suite and the other across the hall from one of the other two bedrooms—you need shower curtains, bathmats, and small bins to hold random essentials like pads, tampons, Band-Aids and anything else someone might need short notice, as well as trash cans and garbage bags accordingly.

The living and dining rooms are where stuff gets pricey—you need a couch, love seat, rocking chair, coffee table, television and a stand, curtains, maybe a rug and definitely a dining table.

For one of the other two bedrooms, you require an additional bed and curtains so that it can serve as the guest space. For the other of the two bedrooms, you need curtains, bookshelves, a comfy daybed, a desk and a rolling chair so that it can act as a library-slash-office space for studying and reading.

Since you figure Lawrence is working, Aurelie helps you get most of it. A lot of it came from IKEA for the sake of your own convenience but you refused, blatantly, to buy a bed or couch or even so much as a rocking chair from there, so it was a fairly cheap trip.

You grab the bed from the same spot you got the one you’d bought for yourself six months before, when the bed you’d had got lumpy and it became clear just how old it was—a local furniture store that was a twenty minute drive out and did same-day delivery fee at no additional cost.

The rocking chair, couch, coffee table, love seat, wardrobe and daybed were purchased from a furniture store one of your bosses had recommended. It was a forty minute drive from the condo but so worth it as they delivered to your apartment for only an additional $20.

Once the furniture shopping is complete you grab groceries and are home to unload them at half past four, making quick work of it because all you want to do is lie on your couch and make a bad decision or two.

You call Lawrence, exhausted but wanting to test out the couch in more ways than just sitting on the damn thing, at five o’clock on the dot. He answers on the second ring.

“How’d furniture shopping go?” He greets.

You bite your lip to fend off a smile. “Aurelie did it with me—sorry for not calling you, I figured you were working and the places I went to for the bigger things do delivery—and now I’m just sitting, lonely. Kind of want to order take out, honestly, but Aurelie has studying to do and I’m assuming you’re still at work.”

“Just left, actually,” Lawrence says. “I can come over if you’d like? We can talk for a bit and, assuming there are groceries in your fridge today unlike yesterday, I can make dinner. Takeaway is decent but food that takes effort is good, too.”

“I didn’t come close to spending a quarter of the rainy day fund,” you say. “I told myself I’d spend five thousand at most, and I spent close to five thousand, yeah, but still. The way I see it, I have sixty dollars to blow on take out and if you really must cook me dinner, you can do so Friday night. I like things more even and unless you’d prefer that I spent the $60 on weed, I’d really like to see you.”  

Lawrence laughs. “I think I’ve realized what you aim to get from me,” he says. “I thought I’d be the one making those types of calls or coming into the condo with my spare key and groping you while you read whichever book you’re reading at that point in time.”

You laugh seductively. “That’ll come up in the next few weeks, I imagine,” you say. “However, right now I am exhausted, need something in my something and this couch is way too big for one person. Grabbed an L shaped one so that I could take a nap on it on a lazier Sunday afternoon but today was not lazy or a Sunday. Today was productive and if I don’t see you in the next thirty minutes, I will drive my ass back to where I vaguely remember your house being and knock on a door, one that I can only I hope is yours so that I can make the first $2000 you’ll give me on whichever day within the next week so worth your while that it hurts.”

“You’ll get it Saturday,” Lawrence says. “The first installment.”

“Get your ass to this condo or so help me God—”

“I’ll be there in fifteen,” Lawrence laughs. “Mouthing me off is not recommended.”

“There can’t be too many punishments out there. I like it when pain gets involved. Being thrown and smacked around just gets me wet.”

“There are ways to torture you without being aggressive. Be a good puppy and wait for me, yeah?”

You roll your eyes. One sexual encounter a few days prior and he knows, already, that calling you his puppy is the quickest way to get you to submit.

“Yeah, Lawrence,” you say. “Of course.”

“Good,” he says. “You can wait fifteen minutes without touching yourself, can’t you?”

Without meaning to, you grind helplessly against the hem of your jeans.

“Mhm.”

“Good puppy.”

And then the call is done, and you’re going to your bedroom to swap your day clothes for something more comfortable—a black hoodie you’d owned since you started in the PhD program at 26 that you’d accidentally ordered around six sizes too big—and strip of everything else.

You head back into the living room, clad in nothing but a baggy hoodie. It leaves your clit, folds, and breasts open to the wintery cold updraft, which forces you to grab a throw blanket and toss it over your legs.

The ten minutes to proceed those events are spent reading a romance novel that you’d put on your coffee table for decoration, and when you hear the sound of Lawrences spare key entering the slot on the door, you grin.

He closes the door behind him lightly, grins when he meets your gaze, and you look him over.

He looks good in a way that makes you almost insatiable—navy blue button up shirt, black slacks, white doctors coat hanging loosely off his shoulders. His hair is handsomely unkempt, and he looks like the picture of laidback professionalism.

He takes the white coat off, drapes it over the top of your loveseat.

“You look cute,” he says. “Waited for me on the couch the entire time?”

You nod, standing up without thinking twice about it. “You said to wait. I did.”

He steps towards you, intentionally walking slowly. “Are you wearing anything beneath the hoodie, puppy?”

You shake your head. “I’m not. I always wear the hoodie like this—it’s comfortable for me,” it’s a lie, of course, but you just have to hope it’s not a very obvious one.

“Is it really?” He asks. When you bite your lip, he laughs.

“I don’t like liars,” he says. “If you decided to forgo anything beneath it because of me, you’re allowed to be honest. I find honesty preferable to lies, even if the way that you bite your lip and how fucking good you look makes me want to bend you over the arm of the couch and use you to my preference.”

You nod. “I wore it like this for conveniences sake,” you admit. “Was a bit warm, too, and needed to cool off, even though I regretted that almost instantly because it's the fucking winter. Figured you’d have an easier time touching me if I wore nothing underneath the sweater.”

Lawrence takes another step and is finally within arms reach.

“I’ll buy us dinner,” he says. “You can use the sixty for a nice lingerie set if you want, or maybe a few new books, but I have to get you back for thinking of how to dress in a manner that conveniences me.”

“You’re giving me four thousand dollars this month. I am not letting you buy dinner.”

“New rule, then,” he says. “Rule number four: in addition to the four thousand dollars monthly, I get to buy you dinner and gifts whenever I please.”

“You’re only doing that out of spite,” you say pointedly. “You said four thousand was the max amount you could give me while living within your means.”

“I said it was the amount I could give you, not the max amount,” Lawrence says. “Realistically I could afford close to five thousand, but I figured that spoiling you to some extent would come into play at one point or the next, so I rounded down.”

“Fine,” you nod. “I accept the rule. What’s your favorite color?”

“That’s a tie between dark blue, dark green, and maroon,” he says. “Why do you ask?”

You bite your bottom lip lightly. “While I am privy to owning a decent set to feel confident once in a while, I do want it to look so good that you can’t resist the urge to see what’s underneath. Your favorite color is the place to start in figuring that out, one would think.”

He puts one hand on your hip, a smirk kicking up the corner of his mouth. “I won’t be needed at work until nine tomorrow morning,” he says. “I’m going to make this worth it for us both, mm?”

You nod. All you want him to do is either start rubbing your clit while he kisses you, or for his fingers to be in your mouth again.

“Hows the oral fixation?”

“Still doing it’s thing,” you say, biting your lip again. “Why?”

“Be a good puppy for me and kneel, Y/N.”

You do as he says without having to think twice, becoming eye-level with his half hard cock and almost moaning as you look at it.

“What do you wanna do from where you are?” Your gaze goes to his.

Your tongue pokes out from between your lips, and suddenly thoughts of sucking him off cloud your mind entirely.

“Go on, puppy. Speak.”

“Wanna suck you off,” you whisper. “Wanna—oh my God. Lawrence please—”

“Do as you please, puppy,” he whispers. “I’m not gonna tell you no.”

You lean in, smelling him through his pants before you undo the zipper, button, and pull them and his boxers down, taking his half hard cock into your mouth within seconds.

“Good—holy fuck,” Lawrence moans. “Your mouth is amazing.”

You hum in response, tongue finding the underside of his length and setting a pace that clearly drives Lawrence a little insane. When a hand falls to your hair and he sets a pace of his own, you let him, just enjoying the feeling of his cock in your mouth.

He finishes in your mouth a few minutes later, and you swallow his cum without thinking. It makes him laugh even as he apologises for coming so suddenly, wiping what of it had dribbled to your chin after he’s helped you stand.

He presses his thumb against your bottom lip and you take it into your mouth, getting the cum off of it and grinning slightly when he thanks you for the deed.

He sits down on the long end of the couch, having pulled his boxers and his pants back up.  

His gaze meets yours, and he smirks. “C’mere, puppy. Sit on my lap.”

You do as he tells you, sitting on his lap so that your thighs sit on either side of his. His hands find your hips pretty quickly, and all you want to do is kiss him, but you refrain.

“Did Aurelie offer to help, or did you ask?” Lawrence asks.

“I called,” you laugh a bit. “Defeating the hyper independence one phone call at time, I guess. Plus, she wasn’t working and told me to call her if I needed anything. My mind has been pretty fuzzy since last night, when I tried to think of everything I’d need to buy, and I called her to avoid having a breakdown. Without her helping me figure stuff out and then going with me to grab it I would’ve cried a lot more today, to say the least of it.”

“Good,” Lawrence says. “And you called me because you were alone, horny, and needing company?”

You nod. “I know our first—encounter—was the other day, but I just—”

Lawrence nods like he understands, and part of you believes that he does. “Can I kiss you, puppy?”

“Please, Lawrence.”

And then his lips are on yours, and he’s letting you press his back against the couch as your hands cup his face and sit at the bottom end of his neck, and it’s so, so easy to get lost in it.

Lawrences tongue darts out to your bottom lip while one of his hands moves from your hip to your clit, resulting in the sound of a hushed gasp befalling your lips. Lawrence uses it to his advantage, tongue finding its way into your mouth while he rubs excruciatingly slow circles around your clit.

“Lawrence,” you moan, desperately clenching around nothing in order to avoid grinding down onto him. “Oh, Lawrence. Please.”

“Not yet, puppy,” he whispers, pulling away from your lips just enough to talk. “You got a bit mouthy earlier, yeah?”

You bite your lip, nodding slightly.

“Well, I believe I made a point about there being ways to punish you that don’t involve pain?”

“Mm,” you hum. “You’re not going to be needed at work until nine tomorrow, which means—”

“Realistically, I don’t have a need to be home until around one, which means I have you until at least midnight, which is, what? Six and a half hours out?”

“Lawrence—” you whimper. “Please, sir. Please don’t make me wait that long.”

“Aw, you think using an honorific is gonna make me take mercy? Puppy, I love it when you address me as such, but you did this to yourself, yeah? You can’t tell me what to do, sweetness. I’m the one who does the ordering. Be a good puppy for the next thirty minutes and I promise, the punishment stops and the reward begins, okay?”

You clench around air again, nod and let him go back to kissing you.

He kisses you until your head is spinning, and when he pulls away, you find that it’s only been a few minutes. Your head rests on his shoulder as you catch your breath, both of his hands returning to your hips.

“Take my cock out of my boxers for me, yeah?”

“Had you kept the pants and boxers off, it would’ve been easier,” you sass before you can stop yourself.

Lawrences response is a nod, a kiss to the side of your head. “Do as I say, puppy,” he says. “Good puppies get treats, and if you don’t do as I say, you’ll just be punished until midnight, and when I leave, you’ll have gotten a free dinner but sexually? You’ll be dissatisfied for at least another few days.”

“Sorry, Lawrence.” You lift yourself off him and pull his pants and boxers down, waiting for him to do the last of the work before you sit on his lap again, hovering just over his length.

“It’s okay, puppy,” he whispers, kissing your cheekbone. “You’re allowed to stop hovering.”

“If I don’t, then you’ll—I’ll—do you want us to use condoms?”

“I got a vasectomy in October, and Plan B pills are a thing,” he says. “You said you were clear for STIs, so I’m not worried. Go on, Y/N, but only if you’re comfortable.”

You slide yourself onto him, letting yourself be split open by his length, watching the way that he reacts to it.

The way that Lawrence reacts has to be one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen—he rests his arms on the back of the couch, and as soon as you’ve taken the tip, his head tilts back.

When you’re close to bottoming out, a long, depraved, drawn out “fuck,” falls from his gorgeous lips.

When you do bottom out, you let yourself moan, let your head fall onto Lawrences shoulder.

“Gotta stay still, puppy,” Lawrence says. “No moving, yeah?”

You whimper, biting down onto Lawrences shoulder in order to keep yourself from doing so.

“I know, Y/N. Twenty minutes until six, mm?” He laughs, one hand slipping beneath the sweater you wear. “You can’t react, either. No clenching, no moving, nothing. Biting, moaning, and whimpering are allowed, though. You’re cute when you get needy, so it seems.”

His hand finds your lower stomach and he presses down, and you have to fight every single reactive urge to do as you’ve been told. Instead, you moan lewdly, the pressure of your bite against his clothed shoulder increasing.

“Good puppy,” he praises, his voice a whisper. “Oh, you really are a good listener. You like how this feels?”

“Lawrence,” you moan desperately. “’M sorry about the bite—I’m scared I might’ve bruised.”

You kiss the area of his shoulder you’d bitten while he laughs.

“You’re just doing as I told you, yeah? The pain wasn’t bad compared to the other stuff I’ve been through.”

At that, you remember his foot, or lack thereof, and just how long he's probably been wearing his prosthesis, which just has to hurt by that point. But no, of course you'd completely forgotten about potential discomfort when horny and wanting, though it was something you had taken account for when you'd talked in not-sexually-driven situations.

“Shit!” You curse. “I’m so sorry—I just—”

“I try not to make a huge deal of it,” he says. “It’s really no concern.”

When he finds that you still look a little unsure, he laughs and presses a kiss to your lips. “It’s all right, puppy. I promise, I'm fine. Nothing hurts, aches, or itches as far as my footless leg is concerned, yeah? Just relax for me, mm?”

You nod, still feeling guilty. Lawrence presses a kiss to your forehead and the next twenty minutes are spent with him letting you thrust once or twice every few minutes, his fingers rubbing slow circles around your clit.

When six hits, Lawrence beams. “You’re allowed to move,” he says. “But don’t come yet, yeah? Wanna spread you out on this couch.”

You do as he says, setting a pace that’s just quick enough to make you teeter along the edge within minutes but not enough to come. When Lawrence has had enough, he tells you as much, telling you to get off of him and lie on your back.

You do as he tells you, watching him take off his shirt and tie like it’s a strip show. When finally his lips are on you again, he’s kissing your thighs and making his way to where you need him most.

Once there, he presses a kiss against your clit, then runs his tongue gently through your folds.

“You’re so wet,” he laughs. “You really do get turned on easily, mm?”

Your response comes as a half-laugh, half whimper, and it just eggs Lawrence on. His tongue attaches itself to your clit and you clench around pretty much nothing, one hand finding your nipple beneath the sweater while the other grips the back of the couch like it’s a lifeline.

“Lawrence,” you moan as his lips and tongue move down to your hole. You pinch your nipple between your fingers and Lawence laughs at how desperate you sound for him.

His nose presses against your clit and you grind against him, moaning lewdly. “You're using your fucking nose—ohmygod,” you moan, having a split second wherein you don’t care about how loud you’re being. “Oh, fuck, Lawrence—”

Although he’d only gotten divorced four, maybe five months beforehand, it’s clear that he knows what he’s doing—whether it’s muscle memory from the early days of his marriage or something he’d picked up in the time since his divorce, you’re glad for it.

“Lawrence—ohmyfuckinggod—” you grind against his face and he laughs, nodding slightly.

“Use me, baby,” he says, pressing a kiss to your clit. “Use my mouth, yeah? Don’t worry about anything, just focus on yourself.”

You do as he says, letting yourself set a pace while Lawrrences hands move up to your stomach.

“Fuck, Lawrence,” you moan, inches away from releasing over his face. “Lawrence—I—”

“Go ahead,” he presses his tongue flat against your clit as you grind against him and that’s basically the final straw—when he buries his face in your cunt again, you cum over his face with your thighs pressing against the sides of it, holding him in place slightly.

He stays with you through the aftershocks and comes up to kiss you once all is said and done, and once again—depraved but so fucking hot because you can taste yourself on his tongue. The kiss is intense but also everything you need to relax, and when Lawrence pulls away, you tell him there are wash cloths in the bathroom and that he’s welcome to take a shower if he sees fit, but you’re exhausted and sprawled out over the couch is the way you aim to stay.

He leaves your side and is back twenty minutes later with a damp washcloth, which he runs over your exposed cunt and then himself. He helps you get to standing and leads you to the primary suite, grabbing you a pair of sweatpants and a baggy sweater after locating them easily in your wardrobe. You wobble back to the living room while Lawrence gets dressed again, plopping into the rocking chair you’ve placed in the corner of the room.

Lawrence checks the couch for stains and both of you are surprised to find that there are none, though Lawrence cleans the area anyway before he calls and orders delivery to your apartment.

“I know we said no staying post-coitus,” you murmur. “But—you have until midnight, yeah? Stay for a while.”

Lawrence nods. “I’ll at least stay for a while after dinner,” he says. You stand, sit in the love seat. Lawrence sits down next to you, wraps an arm around your shoulders. “I do want to get to know you more—I feel like we don’t know each other as well as we should.”

You smirk. “I’m entitled to my secrets, and you are to yours.”

“Yes, that is a fair point, but part of me wants to know everything about you that’s not a secret, Y/N.”

“Don’t forget one of the first rules we made—you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”

“I wouldn’t hate loving you in the platonic sense of the word,” Lawrence says. “That’s what I aim to do.”

You hum, press a kiss to his shoulder. “’Mkay,” you nod. “Loving me platonically is allowed, says the judge of whatever the fuck this is going to turn into.”

Lawrence laughs.

For a split second, you feel the urge to freeze the moment in time, to treasure the simple domesticity of it.

You want to stay in that pocket of time forever, Lawrences arm wrapped around your shoulders, your cheek pressed just above his chest, so blissful that nothing else in the world matters to you or him, so well hidden away from the rest of the world that nothing can find you or be bothered with looking.

You brush it off quickly—the first rule of the agreement had been that you weren’t allowed to fall in love with each other. You were not going to start falling for a man you could not have, one that would not want you in turn.

#lawrence gordon #lawrence gordon x reader #saw (2004) #saw posting #sawposting

[chezzywezzy]

Yandere Birdbox (1/5)

Word count ; 4.0k

*Edited.

*Dedicated to @horrorfan-666-anoynmous. This is gn!reader. The plot will be on the abstract side and it’ll be only me that’ll actually know what’s going through my head explanation-wise. Enjoy :)

The citizens of small town Lacombe, Alberta were already starting to bundle up. It was late October and already the middle-of-nowhere area was starting to feel chills. Many had stocked up on new winter jackets; the shop keepers were already starting to run the heater in the early morning; and those that wandered late at night could see their breath.

It was safe to say the local clothes store was having a run on the winter jackets. And, alike to the other customers, Y/n was quick to hop on the trend. Their cane was outstretched in front of them while a plastic bag dangled from their other hand, tearing at the seams from how large the wooly coat was.

Y/n always appreciated that Lacombe was easy to traverse. There was rarely traffic or people to run into to begin with, and the town was so small they could probably manage to walk from one end to the other in under an hour. It was a quaint place. And, for someone labeled as disabled, that was certainly appreciated.

They ran their cane over the sidewalk, avoiding another street lamp. They came to a grinding halt as they found the ledge, and they pulled their phone from their pocket. Y/n started,” Hey, Siri, is the traffic light green?”

The quiet voice was easily overpowered as cars flew past the curb. That was answer enough, and Y/n expected that the tiny app would tell them when the lights changed, as per usual. They clutched the bag closer to their side, and despite the thick sweater and jeans and boots, Y/n was still feeling the chills of the quickly cooling weather as the days passed.

“Hey, do you need some help getting home?” A young man around Y/n’s age, tatted and pierced up the wazoo, approached. He eyed them in worry, continuing,” If you need directions —“

“Do I look like I need help?” Y/n snapped irritably.

The man was taken aback, and despite recognizing that they were blind as a bat, held his hands up defensively. “Geez, asshole. I was just trying to be nice. You clearly woke up on the wrong side of the fucking bed.”

Y/n didn’t reply. They were ever so slightly irked - even though they consciously knew they shouldn’t be - but chose to ignore the random man. Their foot tapped against the concrete impatiently and their fingers were itching to get back to work.

“…Huh?”

The man furrowed his brows, eyeing the sky. He wasn’t the only one to stop in pure confusion. The entire town of Lacombe came to a screeching halt and perhaps even the earth stopped spinning. Because, descending from the sky, was a large, grey blob. It was far too circular to be a plane, but far too small to be a ship of some sort.

And it was rocketing right toward the center square.

From Y/n’s phone, Siri’s robotic voice chirped,” The light is red.”

Y/n used their cane, stepping off into the street. However, their movements shook the young man free of his paralysis. In horror, he saw that the late, egg-shaped monolith was barreling to the center block, right to where Y/n was intending to walk through.

“Hey, asshole, stop. Don’t walk out into the middle of the street —!”

They paid him no mind. Some women screamed, others gasped, but generally, the consensus was to gain distance from the large, metallic thing. And Y/n, in their blissfully unaware state, had no idea that they were heading into an immediate danger zone.

“Jesus fucking christ!”

The man reached out, grabbing their upper arm. Y/n yelped, the cane being torn from their hold. The young man jerked them back, and Y/n tripped on the ledge. Both went barreling to the ground, the concrete tearing into their clothes, but that was immediately the least of their worries.

It hit. No more than a couple yards away, the unidentified flying object collided into the ground. Smoke and steam poured from it, and very quickly, the streets were rolled over with a thick fog. Y/n and the man began coughing viciously. They covered their mouth, propping themselves up on their elbows.

“The light is green.”

The man peered up, trying his best to stumble to his feet. He was anxious, and his eyes flitted with concern to and from the blind individual, even more confused than anyone else. When he was on his feet, he waved some of the mist away, but he could no longer see the metal sheath as the fog seemingly dispersed into nothing.

And that was what was left. Nothing. The only indication it was there in the first place was a large dent and rapture in the pavement, large cracks crossing all the way to the sidewalk itself. Everyone was slowly gathering, and even the cars had gone into park to see what the commotion was.

“Hey, dude, let me help you up,” the man mumbled, grabbing out to Y/n’s arm.

Y/n, not arguing and far too shaken up by how the earth had rumbled, grasped onto the man and made their way onto their feet. They continued to grip the man tightly, and questions threatened tho escape their lips. The man was still staring warily at where the object once was.

And then, one of those questions escaped.

“What… happened?”

“I - I don’t fucking know. There was some thing in the sky coming right toward the street. It hit not too far from us and, uh… now it’s, like, gone.”

Y/n was too shaken up. Their brows furrowed and they aimed to prod further, but they knew damn well he was as unknowing as the next person. They decided they would just shake it off. They were going to try their best to get to the safety of their home, because whatever happened could’ve been a bomb for all they knew.

They detached from the man. They crouched down, reaching around for their walking cane.

“The light is red.”

A piercing shriek broke out from across the street. Y/n was on their hands and knees in search of the cane, still abandoned a few feet in the street ahead of them. However, both them and the man froze in here confusion. And I ust like that, all panic broke loose.

“Holy fuck!” he exclaimed, stumbling back to a store window and pressing himself against him. “What the hell…”

The woman from across the street suddenly stepped up to a lamppost. All at once, she began bashing her head against it. Others screamed, but what was more terrifying was how certain citizens were completely silent. A hoard began to circle the lamppost, doing the same exact thing.

Suddenly, the cars started up. From each intersection, cars went flying toward one another. Screams echoed the plaza, and all at once, explosions from those imploding in the center ensued. The man was screaming at the top of his lungs.

But Y/n was far too shocked and baffled to know what was going on. For all they knew, a war started. A smoke grenade was set off and everyone was going insane. But what they did know was that screaming wouldn’t do a damn thing, especially with how the wind had picked up and was now howling just as loudly as the shrieks themselves.

Y/n curled up into a ball in on the ground. The cane, finally found, was clutched in their grasp. It didn’t do much, but they shut their eyes tightly and rolled ever so slightly back and forth. Siri’s voice was greatly silenced by the pure mania surrounding them.

“Wh - what…- Hey, asshole, we need to —“

Just like that, an engine roared. The man was cut short as a large truck came barreling across the sidewalk, totaling the man into the store front. The window shattered. Y/n let out a mangled sob, hearing the engine burst. The scene was hardly the most gruesome of their surroundings, but it was bad.

The man’s body was but a splatter of blood and torn flesh. It was a large lump inside the hardware store, and the truck itself had the entire engine shoved through the window. The airbag poured out the open windows, masking the imploded head on a once living human being’s body. The glass had shattered and scattered around the ground, but the tiny shards that dug into Y/n’s pant legs were hardly the greatest of their worries.

“Jace!” a mother bellowed, grasping at her child’s shoulders, not even a hundred yards away. “Jace, what’s wrong? What are you looking at? You’re alright, baby, you’re alright —“

And just like that, a fog passed over her vision. She was not afraid, no; but, alike to her son, she looked so very depressed. Nobody would ever know why, too preoccupied with their own hallucinations. It was frightening how, once the cars went silent, Y/n became dutifully aware of how silent the screams had become.

Because, not too far away, that single mother and her young boy were clawing out their own eyeballs. They did not care how deep their fingers dug into their sockets and how badly it stung to rip their eyes free entirely. They did not care that blood spewed and darkness clouded their vision.

And that was soon because both dropped dead to the ground, too enchanted by the visions they’d witnessed. 

Y/n was only half aware of the fact that people are seeing things. They were being possessed, and whatever that fog was made everyone around them kill themselves. The wind was howling so viciously, whipping Y/n’s body around. They clutched the plastic bag and one to their chest, trying to ignore how wet their jeans were.

‘Look.’

Clear as a bell, a feminine voice whispered to them. Y/n clawed into the ground the best they could, covering their ears. They rocked back and forth, terrified tears continuing to spill  from their eyes.

‘Look, Y/n.’

All at once, it was a chorus. So many different voices, ranging from a small toddler to an old man, were crowding their head. It was awful, because they couldn’t. They couldn’t look and they weren’t sire they wanted to even if they could. Whatever people were witnessing was horrifying and grotesque. 

‘You saw once and you can see again. Look.’

‘To see is beautiful, Y/n. To look is heaven.’

“Stop,” Y/n muttered gruffly, shaking their head. “Shut up. You’re not real.”

‘Look, look, look. To witness is divine.’

Something suddenly smacked across their cheek. It smeared, and Y/n yelped, but it kept returning. Smack. Smack. Smack. Over and over again, the wind brought it back. And then, it was only duplicated. Two wet items were hitting Y/n, and they swatted it away.

At a final swat, they ended up enclosing their hand around the object.

‘Look.’

Y/n squished it. It felt slimy, like jello. And, as they felt around the circular object, they noticed a long thread escape a part of it. The object was so wet, and it didn’t take more than a moment for them to connect the dots. A howl escaped their lips and they dropped the crushed eyeball to the ground.

And then, the wind stopped. The voices stopped. Everything stopped. No more screams, no more crashing cars. Nothing. And that terrified Y/n to their very core.

They released a shaky breath, propping themselves up on their elbows. Y/n eagerly wiped their hand on their jeans, reeling in pure disgust. Their jeans were soaked to the core, and they were more than happy to use their cane to stumble to their feet.

The wind was still howling, and yet, it was as though the entity itself was the wind. Some dead leaves slapped against Y/n’s body, and they used the cane to stabilize themselves. They were hyperventilating crazily.

“The light is green.”

Y/n took their phone out from their pocket. Immediately, they ordered,” Hey Siri, call nine-one-one.”

They wanted to begin shuffling away. But they were still paralyzed in fright, so baffled by the sudden - and seemingly supernatural - turn of events. The phone kept ringing.

And ringing.

And ringing.

Y/n gulped, connecting the dots. The local police station was as fucked as everyone else. They had no idea what was going on, but what they did know was that it was cold and scary and dangerous. And that they needed to go home. Now.

Gulping, they outstretched the cane. They made sure to be precise, waving it in every approaching inch. Halfway across the street, the cane collided right with a hunk of metal, and they scaled the piece, recognizing that a car crash happened right in front of them. They maintained a mental map - if they could even call it that - and made it around the vehicles.

They didn’t hear a single sound, except for their footsteps and the wind. It was deadly silent and it shouldn’t have been. It was odd how, in the span of no more than three seconds, Lacombe had gone from a friendly and quaint village town to a hell-scape. 

They were often bitter about their blindness, but they were now glad they were left unable to witness the events. And, potentially, it had saved their life.

They made it down the sidewalk. There were so many corpses and detached limbs that they tripped frequently. And it made no sense, but it was like the bustling wind was following their every step. It was frightening to know but not see what was going on. But Y/n couldn’t have been more grateful for it.

As they made their way to the small apartment complex, hardly three stories tall and with roughly ten apartments for rent, they passed by the worst gore of all; there was a pyramid of crushed cars and bodies, towering almost as high as the building itself. The pile creaked and swayed with every burst of wind.

Y/n opened the front entrance. They shut and locked the door behind them, already feeling far more safe and secure. They used the cane to traverse the steep steps to the second story, and the moment they felt the familiar apartment door, a sigh of relief escaped.

Shakily, they removed their keys from their pocket. They felt around for the lock before it entered with ease and the door swung open with an eerie creak. Oftentimes, they hated that the neighbors threw constant parties since they belonged to some far more immature young adults. And the apartment directly above their’s was occupied by some abusive couple.

And nothing made them happier than the silence. Or, at least, that would’ve been the case if it wasn’t because an entire population had been slaughtered by unknown attackers.

They shut and locked the door, momentarily pressing their back against it to catch their thoughts. They panted profusely, waiting a brief moment to simply… catch their breath. Think. Because as far as they knew, it was either the end of Canada or the end of the entire world.

Y/n’s apartment was quaint and, right upon walking in, it was clear it belonged to an artist. There were various paint splurges on the wall. Several of their works - or, at least, the most successful - were framed. They weren’t the originals, as some very rich people were instantly captivated by them, but they were the best of the best. Y/n was an artist. And, thanks to her special background, a fairly well-known one.

To the right was a small kitchen with the usual appliances and an island with barstools. Beyond that, a small living room with a couch, coffee table, and their kindle. Right in front, without an especially acquired office, was the place where they painted. An easel, a small desk with a notebook. Drawers with supplies, and many, many blank canvases. Beyond the public living space was a small bed and bathroom, messy and cluttered because the maid hadn’t been around in a few weeks.

They sighed and pushed themself from the wall. They felt disgusting. The first thing they wanted to do was strip off their filthy clothes - even if it was rather chilly inside the apartment - and shower. So, they did just that. And a half hour later, they emerged, towel wrapped around their neck and snuggly adorning fluffy pajamas.

They sat at the island. Their thoughts were still racing, but at least they were more coherently organized. And, as much as they thought to their father, wanting to check up on him, they spoke,” Hey Siri, turn on CBC live.”

Siri did so. The wifi was abnormally slow, and much to their unawareness, didn’t even work thanks to the amount of cars that crashed into telephone lines and electricity servers. The world around them was dying, and the moment the news started, they started realizing it.

“—International tragedy has struck,” the news reporter spoke urgently. “Mass hysteria that leads leading to suicide is occurring worldwide. Scientists and politicians are scrambling to discover the contaminants of the air, if any, and suspect a far deadlier and rapid mutation of dancing mania.

“Religious communities are calling it ‘the end of times.’ Others are insisting it is a long-since-coming alien invasion. There are several videos circulating of egg-shaped pods shooting from the sky. The videos are as can be seen here.”

Y/n grumbled in irritation, hearing the screams and crash from the video. It was displayed in the corner of the phone screen while the news reporter was standing still, clearly sweating bullets. Even the camera man was trembling. The studio was oddly dark, except for the bleeding light from the windows beyond the camera. The video finally stopped.

“…This supposed virus was seemingly first appeared in Los Angelos, California, but many separate clusters have been spotted in Shanghai, London, New York, Brazil, Moscow, and Lagos. We advise that you stay inside your house at all costs. I repeat, stay inside and stay safe —“

The news reporter went silent. Y/n blinked in bafflement, concern growing in their chest. And then the camera man tittered,” John? John, are alright —“

A scream escaped the cameraman. It was live footage of the news reporter himself, John, pushing past the cameraman aggressively. The entire screen became blurry and some cracks covered it. The camera man was pushed and became far too quiet.

Although the view was tilted, it was plain as day that John crashed right through the skyscraper window. The glass shattered. The camera man was crawling toward it just as quickly, blubbering in awe. He was muttering something to himself.

But Y/n had heard enough. “Hey Siri, go to the home screen.”

The phone went silent once the report was completely minimized. Y/n’s ears rang because the silence was utterly deafening. They gulped thickly and their mouth was completely dry. They were thirsty, but for all they knew, whatever was killing the entire world population was in the water, too.

They rose to their feet and went to the fridge. They felt around, knowing it like the back of their hand. In the door shelves were rows of beer. Their immediate action was to pick one up. Y/n one drank a few times a month and saved it for special occasions - after completing a painting, for instance - and the end of the world seemed as good of an excuse as any other.

Their phone was left abandoned on the counter for the time being. They trotted over to the living room and plopped onto the couch. Y/n popped open the beer and took a quick swig. The flinched, not the fondness of the strength of the beverage, but if they was going to die, it was better to die drunk and unaware that one was dying.

Y/n was faced toward the small windows. The walls of the apartment was made of bricks and the floor of wood. It did its job, namely, housing someone, but a complaint of the building was that it wasn’t ‘modern.’ They couldn’t care less since it’s not like they could see the lack of modernity.

And, as proven in this day and age where aliens were apparently invading, it mattered even less. Y/n didn’t care too much about saving their hide. A part of them always wanted to die the day they went blind. That day… Y/n dreaded to remember it. Because they couldn’t. There was nothing to see. Only things to hear. 

They laid back on the couch, kicking their feet up. The beer was abandoned on the coffee table. They crossed their arms after readjusting the pillow. Y/n was consumed by their thoughts, and it struck them as odd that, even in the apocalypse days, they were still consumed with bitterness and selfishness. They knew damn well their life wasn’t supposed to revolve around them being angry at a god that might exist for taking their sight.

Because they knew damn well that not only did other blind people have it far worse, but that other people had it worse. And sometimes, Y/n felt bad that they were so goddamn bitter and mean. But now, it was the end of humanity as everyone knew it. So they didn’t feel nearly as bad because it clearly didn’t matter if aliens were planning to take over.

Y/n forced their mind to become silent. And, somehow, amidst the world ending, they fell right to sleep. The apartment complex was a safe haven, because even upon exiting the front door, there were bodies upon bodies. It was frightening. And it was deadly silent except for the bellowing winds.

It was home. And, as cranky and miserable of a human Y/n was known for being, they were undoubtedly talented. They’d been on many late-night interviews. And even to this day, Y/n was still baffled as to why. Because somehow - despite everything they painted being replications of their dreams - they were ‘profoundly lifelike.’ 

For instance, one of their most recent paintings was recognized as an exact replication of the Kunlun Mountains, as if drawn from memory. And, seeing as they’ve never even left the memory and became blind before they could even think about taking geography, it was truly a miracle.

Next to that was a fairly abstract one; ironically, it was named ‘The End of Days.’ It portrayed a rather ghastly figure, its face scrawled and yet defined. Y/n often had help picking out the paints, but they custom ordered a palette with the brail inscriptions of the colors. And, despite how Y/n often had landscapes drawn that were colorful and captivating, this particular one was dark and dismal, yet used earthy colors such as maroon and brown.

And finally, the ‘portrait,’ as Y/n considered it, that was the breakthrough. It was the painting everyone knew and was the most popular work. It stung them to the core just thinking of it, but even decades later, it was burned into their brains.

‘Last Look.’ The title itself was fairly straightforward. Y/n remembered it like yesterday. 

#yandere #x reader #x y/n #self insert #yandere x reader #bird box #bird box x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere horror #yandere bird box #yandere birdbox #birdbox #horror movies #horror movie

[i-cannot-spell-chaos]

Oil and oak

Murder movie killers x gast station owner reader

You were the owner of a small gas station in the middle of nowhere. It was the classic stop in a horror movies where the characters run out of gas and needs some more but doesn't have enough money so they steal it. It something you don't really enjoy but it happens.

You try helping these people by sending them to different hotels or places to stay but there fate never changes. There faces always go on you missing poster board. When the killers would come into your store to get supplies was even worse. It's not like you had any proof but they would haunt you every time they come in.

One killer in particular seemed to talk to you like two southern moms seeing each other in walmart. He never stopped giving you the details and how it's impossible for you or any detective to discover what's he's done. There was this one time when someone came in med rant. Smashed the poor man's skull in and dragged the body away.

The others are pretty much silent only coming in and leaving. They always left you a tip...you don't take tips! You don't even have a tip jar! You have lines of money jars from these killers because every time it's filled you hide it away hoping they would forget about it. The next day another nice jar would be half full...

There are the rare occasions where they do attack you. They don't mean it truelly they don't! They only do that when you talk about moving and leaving the store. It was not good they had barricaded you into the inside of the gas station multiple times during foggy days.

That brings you to now. This new guy moved in weeks ago. He seemed off but you couldn't pin point what. This usually meant he was a horror movie killer but it seemed different This time. His eyes followed you when he came in to the gas station. He was breaking the horror rules! You don't kill the gas station owner unless the victim is in the facility with them!

It came to closing time and he was out their waiting for you with a smile. "Would you like to join me for dinner?"

Hell no you went back into the gas station locking it shut. "Come on the others are waiting!...it's just been so long since we've gotten together it would be great if you came to the neighborhood meeting!"

What neighborhood we got corn fields and forest!

You left through the back door avoiding him completely. Behind the station was the woods. There were multiple paths to different areas. One led to your house and the others lead to the classic horror movie deaths. Haunted church,hotels owned by psychos, and abandoned cabins are just some examples

Luckily you labeled them!

You went down the one that said not your house. You labeled it wrong so others won't find your home and break in. To many werewolves in the town to allow a break in.

Half way into the forest you heard footsteps. You were being hunted so you ran! You ran like the most none basic girl in a horror movie. You got into your house locking it.

You heard a creek on your floor board and a lamp turn on. "Five minutes late where have you been"

"How did you get into my house?!" You yelled at the group "we want to protect you from the fucking creep" said the ghost "we looked him up he's wanted for killing people like you..you the only guy I like I cannot allow you to die" said the masked killer

Oh bother...They went on and on about that man. Then we heard the doorbell ring. Looking through the peep hole you saw that man...he followed you?

Looking at the others you didn't have to think. You were quickly locked up in a room with the ghost watching you. They couldn't let you get hurt no that breaking the rules they had created.

(I loves these guys so I will be making blurbs)

#Yandere male #yandere female #Yandere ghost #Masked killer #Horror #Yandere #Gender neutral reader #gn mc #Ur mom