#it's a cop out plain and simple

[storiesfromafan]

Dance Class 101

A/N: I come baring more fruits of my labor haha. Or rather this was a silly story I started a new nights ago after 11pm. It just spiraled from there.

Might do a part two. See what happens.

Also, forgive some of the informal wording. I blame being Australian lol.

Pairing: Mattheo x Slytherin Fem!Reader (more pining?)

They say school is meant to be a fun experience, learning new and usually useful things. And in any other House in Hogwarts, that would be the case. Unfortunately, for Slytherin fun was not a word Professor Snape knew, or rather despised, squashing all light in any room he was in. Currently in The Great Hall, during the Slytherin’s scheduled time for dance practise for the upcoming Yule Ball.

All attending students in Hogwarts were expected to participate in dance classes. So here you were, with your group of misfits. As your house all took seats around Professor Snape, who looked to be out of his comfort zone, you couldn’t miss those around you whispering to each other. Which was shortly lived when Snape ordered silence. Of course, everyone shut their mouths and sat up straight.

“Firstly, I detest that I have to teach you all to dance” Snape began, his voice sharp with authority. “But you all need to have some sort of formal etiquette for a ball. So, I am…forced to instruct you”. Ah, how that must have hurt to say.

There were sniggers and giggles at Snape’s words, which he called for silence again and got it quick smart.

“Secondly, I will remind each and every one of you that you will be representing Slytherin at The Yule Ball. So, I do not wish to hear of any of you acting in any way to lower our House” Snape stood proudly and rolled his sharp gaze over every student. “You are Slytherin. We are a proud house, do not sully it”.

Mattheo, Theodore and Lorenzo; whom were all sitting before you, started to snicker. Which you stopped with a slap to each of the back of their heads, just like any mother. Mattheo turned back with a glare, to which you smiled at before gesturing for him to turn back around and focusing on Snape.

Back to the lesson at hand; dancing 101. The girls rather giddy, the boys wanting to run from the room. Snape uncomfortable. And the female Professor being his dance partner wishing she had done something better with her career. All in all, this was to be some kind of afternoon. Starting off with two Professor’s stiffly demonstrating The Waltz. How the student population bearing witness to the scene before them kept themselves in check was a mystery. Alright, not entirely a mystery but more not wanting to cop Snape’s wrath for laughing. Plain and simple.

Finally, it came time for the observers to move to practical. Reluctantly all students rose from their seats, shuffling about and pairing up awkwardly. You stood looking around the room trying to pick out a dance partner. You didn’t want anyone who was handsy or flirty, nor did you want someone who has two left feet.

“Looking for me?” asked an all too familiar cocky voice behind you.

Turning around you found Mattheo standing there confidently. Oh, you will enjoy knocking him down a peg.

“Oh no” you replied off handedly, “I’m looking for a less pompous ass to dance with”.

He shot you a glare.

“Then you must be looking for me?” Questioned Theodore stepping up and slapping Mattheo on the shoulder. “Sorry mate”.

You looked to Theodore with a blank look. “Sorry, nor am I looking for his partner in pompousness either”.

Mattheo laughed shoving Theodore. “Tough luck, mate”.

Theodore shot his friend a dark look. “Hey, at least I didn’t get rejected first”.

That sobered Mattheo, and both boys glared at the other before turning back to you.

Thankfully that was the moment Lorenzo stepped in and swept you away. “Sorry lads, she was waiting for me”.

You laughed as Lorenzo twirled you both around. Alright, he won. “To be clear I wasn’t waiting for Lorenzo, but with that save, he has earned his place as my dance partner. Sorry”.

Lorenzo laughed as both Mattheo and Theodore shoved the other before shuffling off to find other partners. Which wouldn’t be hard. Every girl in this school would give their soul to get close to Mattheo, he was the Slytherin heart throb after all. And Theodore had his own club of fans too. So, they would be fine.

But a part of you regretted rejecting Mattheo. Blame the two-year crush on the curly mop head, who had just partnered up with Daphne Greengrass. The way she smiled at him as she placed her hand on his shoulder while he stepped closer, it made you sick to your stomach. Not to mention your blood boiling when she laughed at something Mattheo said.

“What are you growling at?” Questioned Lorenzo, before turning you both to see what held your attention. “Ah, I see”.

“Ah, I see? You see nothing” you retorted defiantly, turning away from the nauseating and infuriating scene.

Lorenzo shot you a knowing look. “Please (Y/N/N), I’m not stupid. I’ve known about your affections probably before you even came to terms with them” he chuckled, while you pouted.

“I repeat, you see nothing. End of story”.

Lorenzo spun you around, making you see the pair across from you both, before turning you away again. “It’s alright, I am not offended I’m not the eye of your desire” he poked your side. “But Theodore owes me a butterbeer”.

You swatted Lorenzo’s shoulder. “Don’t you dare say a word! Ah, of nothing that isn’t true” you sputtered, attempting to deny your crush.

Lorenzo brought you close. “Your secret is safe with me (Y/N/N). Mum’s the word”.

You one hundred and ten percent believed Lorenzo. Out of the three, he was more the voice of reason. While Mattheo and Theodore were Dumb and Dumber. But to be clear, you did not think them dumb, far from it for they could be evil geniuses if they applied themselves. They were goof balls that didn’t always read a person before opening their mouths.

Once everyone was paired up, Snape called for attention once more. Taking the proper stance with the female Professor, Snape instructed all students to do the same. Lorenzo stood comically tall, with a snooty look on his face while holding out his left hand out to you. Following his lead, you mirrored his stance and look, before dramatically placing your right hand in his. He then placed his right hand on your waist, pulling you closer forcefully. You couldn’t help it; a snigger came from your lips as you placed your left hand on his shoulder. Yes, Lorenzo was the smart choice. Laughter was the best way to forget about Mattheo and Daphne.

While you were having fun in Snape’s dreary presence, Mattheo was watching every moment just now. A wave of jealousy washing over him as Lorenzo pulled you close and received a snigger. Sure, he could see you were both goofing off. But he hated it wasn’t him you were having fun with.

Mattheo acted aloof, and teased you, but it was to hide the feelings the boy had for you. Out of all the girls in the school, you were the first one to become his friend. Never flirting or going shy. Being your unapologetic self through and through.

The friendship he had with you was what made it hard to have feelings for you. Your friendship was something he treasured, and he didn’t want to ruin it. For if he lost you, Mattheo would be devastated. But he also disliked seeing his two mates’ taking your attention away from him and having fun without him.

“Hey, Snape’s talking” Daphne whispered, drawing Mattheo’s attention from you and Lorenzo.

Snape proceeded to instruct and show you all the basic steps for The Waltz.

“Male’s lead. Starting with your left foot, you are going to step forward” Snape began. “Females follow. Starting with your right foot, you are going to step back”.

All students followed Snape’s instruction. This is where many partners learned that the person, they paired up with couldn’t tell left from right, forward and backwards. Which lead to some soft laughter and angry comments.

You and Lorenzo didn’t need to worry. Both of you were coordinated. Comically, but smooth, you did as instructed. As well was Mattheo and Daphne.

“Next” Snape commanded, silence fell once more. “Males, bring you right foot forward and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right. Females, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close with right foot next to your left”. Snape of course demonstrated this movement for everyone.

Once again, coordination was a flower that didn’t grow in many gardens. While you and Lorenzo were flawless. Along with Mattheo and Daphne. Finally, everyone was at the same step.

“Male’s, step back with your right foot. Females, step forward with your left foot” Snape instructed doing as he said. “Males, bring your left foot back and to the left, then close your right foot next to your left. Females, step forward with your right foot and to the right, then close your left foot next to your right”.

Once more everyone followed the instruction and demonstration. Happy to report, this time there were more coordinated students. You followed Lorenzo’s lead, and once more you were both flawless in your movements, prompting you both to smile at the other. Mattheo and Daphne not far behind you both, just as flawless.

Snape pulled away from the female Professor, like he was slightly burned by a flame. “That is the basic steps for The Waltz. I will now give you time to practice the steps together before music is introduced, and we work on timing to tempo”.

Both you and Lorenzo chuckled at Snape, before getting back to the task at hand. Taking position, you both did the step’s Snape had instructed. Once the first square was done, you both continued. Eventually feeling comfortable with the steps, the snooty comical sides came back. Dramatically doing the steps. And soon you had a small audience of the students around you. They laughed and softly cheered. With the final steps to close off the square, Lorenzo spun you out and you both theatrically bowed and curtsied.

“(Y/L/N) and Berkshire!” Called Snape. “Knock off the nonsense”.

You both quickly moved back into position and went back to dancing properly. Neither wanting to face the wrath of Snape. But flashing each other a smile, you enjoyed the silliness.

“Real smooth, getting on Snape’s radar” Theodore commented, moving closer to you both. “Best to stop the shenanigans”.

“Oh? Jealous Nott?” Lorenzo asked with a smirk.

Theodore laughed. “Far from it mate. I don’t want Snape on my case”.

He was right. No one ever wants to be on Snape’s bad side. So silently you and Lorenza agree to pull back on the silliness and take it all a bit more seriously. But it was so hard when this type of dance was boring, and so would the music.

After some time, Snape brought attention back to him, and proceeded to teach the next part. And let’s just say you thought many of the students lacked coordination before, it was ten times worse when music was introduced. Yet in yours and Lorenzo’s case, you both weren’t too bad. At first there was some miss timed steps and even stepping on his foot, but after the first square, you both got smoother and flowed nicely. Even getting praise from Snape.

Unfortunately for Mattheo, his partner took longer to grasp timing with music. And not to mention the amount of times Daphne stepped on his feet. Yes, she managed to step on both multiple times. Eventually she got better, but not quick enough before Snape called an end to dance class. Many students sighed and silently thanked who ever had been listening to their pleas.

Walking out of The Great Hall, you and the three boys headed for the nearby courtyard to relax after an eventful dance lesson. Lounging around under a tree you all recalled moments of the class, from the good, the bad and the tragic.

“I don’t know how that woman could have danced with Snape” mused Theodore. “He’s so wound tight”, he proceeded to sit up stiffly, making you all laugh.

“Bet she’s rethinking her career choice” mused Lorenzo, again making you all laugh.

“I gotta know, what was it like dancing with Daphne?” Questioned Theodore lighting a cigarette. “No doubt you made her day, as she has the biggest crush on you”.

You tensed at the question, and Lorenzo saw it. He gave you a soft look, showing his concern. But you just gave him a small, sad smile.

“It was alright, I guess” replied Mattheo, not noting your silent conversation with your friend. “She’s not that graceful, my feet are witnesses to that”. He laughed shaking his head. “But she wasn’t bad to be with”.

You all joined him in laughter, only yours not as strong as your companions. That last sentence he spoke hit you. Could Mattheo like Daphne? Surely not, she was lack-lustre compared to other girls.

“You going to ask her to The Yule Ball?” Lorenzo asked, side glancing you to gauge your reaction. He wasn’t doing it to hurt you, he wanted you to know if you should get your hopes up or not.

Mattheo snatched the cigarette from Theodore while thinking over the question. Did he want to ask Daphne to The Yule Ball? No. Did he want to ask you? Yes. But the two parts of him were at war. He wanted to ask you, take you because your company was all he needed. But then, the other part of him said you probably wouldn’t go with him, you’d want to go with someone else. Someone you fancied.

“Maybe…” Mattheo thought taking a drag of the cigarette. “See what happens”.

Theodore laughed. “Don’t wait too long to ask her, or any girl really”.

Now it was you who laughed. “Oh please Theo. Any girl who is asked by either of you would say yes. They would even dump their date to go with any of you”.

It was true. You knew from all the gossiping girls; they have all said it at some point. They would dump their date, even their boyfriend for any of your three friends. And you had a front row seat to watch Mattheo with some other girl. You wish you could say it didn’t bother you, but that would be lying. For every flirtation, every flavour of the month killed you to bear witness too.

Theodore scoffed. “You sound jealous my dear (Y/N/N)”.

You laughed dryly. “Oh please. Me? Jealous of you lot? Ah, no”.

  “I think you are” retorted Theodore sitting up straight. “Jealous we’ll have hot dates, while you will end up with someone lower on the food chain, or no date at all”.

Both Theodore and Mattheo laughed, though Mattheo’s was forced and to hide his true feelings. Which was his dislike for his friends’ words.

You felt anger rise in you from Theodore’s words, your cheeks flushing in annoyance. Deciding it was best to remove yourself, you got up from your spot and straightened out your uniform.

“I find your words to be hurtful and callous. So, what if my date end’s up being less than any of you? Does that diminish their worth? What makes you an excellent judge on that?” you retorted with slight venom. “And if I was to go dateless, what about it? It’s not mandatory to have a date”.

Theodore looked up to you, a smirk on his face. “No, it is not mandatory. But people would look at you like you’re pathetic, practically a leper. Am I right Mattheo?”

Your nostrils flared from Theodore’s brazen words, before your heated gaze was on the mentioned boy. You watched Mattheo closely, silently hoping he would disagree with Theodore. That he would stand up for you.

Mattheo swallowed. He knew this was it. “Sorry (Y/N/N), Theo’s got a point”.

As the words rolled off his tongue, each word scorching the appendage, did Mattheo regret those words. He hated himself. And the hurt look you gave him just about killed him. He was about to correct himself before you said your goodbyes and took off.

“Good job idiots” Lorenzo sighed throwing a rock at both his friends, before taking off after you.

#mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x fem!reader

[ddejavvu]

For multiverse Monday!! Where reader is so attracted to dealer!remus and she acts like she wants to buy from him but she only wants a chance to approach him and he knows it because that is so not like her and he is like “what is the real reason you’re talking to me?” And everything it’s like so flirty and there is tensionnn

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

--

When Remus opens the door he honestly thinks he might be dreaming. After all, he's only hauled himself out of bed seconds ago to answer the timid knocks on his door, so he could be in some sort of fantasy. One where you're standing on his doorstep, little pink purse clutched in your quivering hands.

"Hello," He hums cautiously, "Did you need something?"

"I want to... to buy, uh," You lower your voice, leaning in to whisper, "Drugs."

Now he's sure he's dreaming. Because there's absolutely no way you'd ever be interested in anything illegal, especially not what he sells, because he's seen you scrunch your nose up at the smell before.

"Really," He feigns serious curiosity, stepping aside to let you into his apartment, "Well, you'd better come in then."

You peer cautiously around his living room, like you're worried the police have been lurking just behind the door, waiting to catch you. All you find is dirty laundry, basketball shorts in a heap on the floor beside his couch.

"What kind of drugs?" He asks, and something like fear flashes through your eyes.

"Marijuana." You say resolutely, like you've practiced in the car, "Uh, you sell that, right?"

"I do," He has to fight a grin off of his face at your demeanor, "How much weed do 'ya want?"

"Um," You fall silent and nervous, "Like- do you measure in pounds?"

Remus has to nearly bite through his tongue to stop from laughing.

"Alright, Y/N. Let's stop here. What do you really want?"

"Weed," You echo his slang from earlier, "I- I want to buy drugs, Remus, I told you."

"No, you don't." He narrows his eyes, resting his back against the now-closed door, "Come on, out with it. You and I both know you'd never do drugs, so why are you really here?"

You can't answer him. You can't muster up the courage to tell him you're only at his door to see his pretty face, but the more you twist your fingers together and gnaw at the inside of your cheek, he knows.

Apparently you're easy to read. His lips twist further up into a smirk the longer it takes you to answer, but when the silence becomes too much to bear, he steps in.

"If you're not here to buy weed," He muses, taking it painfully slow to induce the most heat to your cheeks, "Then I think you must be here for me, yeah? 'Cause there's no other reason people come to my place. Not like my cat's very friendly, you haven't come to see her. I returned that book on Greek mythology a week ago to the library, so you can't be after that. I'm the only option left. 'S that right?"

He's spelled it out plain and simple for you, and you don't think denial is an option anymore. You nod slowly, eyes timidly dropping to the floor. and you hear his soft huff of laughter even if you don't see the mixture of amusement and fondness that's on his face.

"Well I'm very flattered." He grins lazily, "Why don't you have a seat," Remus gestures to his couch, scratching an itch crawling up the back of his neck, probably from a crumb in his bed, "I'll get you some water, and we can watch a movie. That sound good?"

"Okay," You nod, relieved but still mortified by the whole ordeal as you sink into his couch cushions.

Remus has a semi-hard time finding you a clean glass, but when he returns, it's full of ice cold water. You take it gratefully, though you stiffen slightly with nerves when he plops down beside you on the couch, and he reaches for the remote with a scarred hand.

"I'm glad you were just trying to flirt with me, honey," He muses, clicking through the options of streaming services he has, "The way you were asking, I thought you were an undercover cop."

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin oneshot #remus lupin one-shot #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin dialogue #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin headcanons #remus lupin headcanon #remus lupin hc #remus lupin hcs #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin fanfic #remus lupin fic #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #dealer!remus #multiverse mondays #ddejavvu's multiverse mondays

[kaicubus]

Carnage | Wayne M.

₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ───────────── ₊˚⊹♡ ∘₊ ─────────────── ₊˚⊹♡

warnings ✩° : angst, fluff, reader has a crush on wayne, wayne has a crush on reader, miscommunication, misunderstandings, eventual hidden confession, crying, cursing, implied depressed reader.

pairing ✩° : wayne mccullough x fem!reader

premise ✩° : it's been a few months since you've last seen wayne. no one was there to see the state he was in when he was taken from you, no one was there to see him show up on your doorstep and see the way he looked at you.

word count ✩° : 2.8k

authors note ✩° : thank you all wayne succubabies for being so patient with me!! this was a request and i wanted to write this for so long but arugghhh!! at least it's finally out, and i hope you all enjoy!! hopefully this helps soothe the wayne shaped hole in all of your hearts...

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There was no way you could've stopped it. It wasn't your fault. It all happened so fast. You couldn't save him.

How long had it been since you saw Wayne McCullough? Wayne McCullough, even his name pained you every time you thought of him. Every time you closed your eyes, all you seemed to see was his hair, the scars on his face, and his eyes full of sadness and desperation.

When was the last time you saw him? It had been months since traveling with Wayne had been cut short. You knew you had been followed and tracked down by two officers, but every time you had found a way around them and escaped. That was, until your last encounter with them, and the last time you'd ever see him.

For weeks, you had been traveling with Wayne on a wild goose chase to find his late father's last parting gift to him. Every day with him became the norm, and for a while, you liked the thrill hopping place to place brought you. Hell, you never would've pictured yourself sleeping in a motel without paying or running from cops if it weren't for Wayne. Wayne brought you excitement.

He didn't even have to say anything to spark a sort of electrifying feeling inside of you, being beside him was enough. Before long, Wayne consumed you in the best way possible. You never wanted to admit your feeling to him, as you felt talking to him about anything other than his motivation to get what he wanted would somehow disrupt him in any way. You had a crush on him, plain and simple. Was it possible to be in love with someone this much?

You didn't have the answer before he was taken away from you.

Harsh. That’s all that could be said about the situation. The timing was unexpected and the execution was worse, you couldn’t even predict it, that was the worst part. Before then, you hadn’t known the names of the people following close behind you and Wayne, but ever since then their names have become ingrained in your memory.

With the lasting image of the person you’ve grown to love being ripped out of your arms with cuts and bruises littering his face, you watched Wayne being tackled to the ground, face pressed into the asphalt road. Red and blue lights flickered furiously as the two police officers breathed a sigh of relief while you held yours.

Just like that, Wayne was gone. The cops that had taken Wayne took you away as well, but you weren’t the one they were after. Sergeant Stephen Geller did most of the talking, his face remained calm throughout it all, but questioned you as Wayne’s accomplice, when in his eyes you were the victim being strung along with him and his antics. He couldn’t be more wrong with that. Officer Jay Ganetti held a lighthearted attitude and a wide smile, cracking in bits of comedy to get you to smile or receive any positive reaction out of you, but of course you never budged.

“Look, Y/n, we’re going to break it to you easy. With all the mess Wayne’s created, we don’t want to hold you here any longer than you’re meant to be.” Geller went on to say, “We can’t disclose where he’s being held, but he won’t ever hurt you again. So you don't have to worry about a thing.”

“You’re wrong.” You made that clear, “Wayne would never hurt me, I went with him willingly.”

“Looks like he didn’t hurt her physically, serge, but emotionally…look at her. I think we're looking at a classic case of a broken heart.” Ganetti held a finger towards you but Geller pulled it down with ease, “Something was bound to happen between them, two sad kids traveling across the states, who knows? Maybe they connected in a way neither one of us could connect with someone. Now, he's gone and there's really nothing we can do about it now. We gave him plenty of chances. Serge, have you ever been in love so much that it breaks you and changes you and makes you feel things you haven't felt in a long time? A love worth fighting for. I know I haven’t.”

“Clearly.”

From what you understood, Wayne was locked in prison—juvenile prison—but no one told you where. No matter how hard you’d tried to get an answer out of them on where and when Wayne would be released, they would only respond with a saddened expression, which only made you feel worse. Wayne was all you had, they knew that, and they still took him away from you. Losing him was like losing yourself, and for a while, things never went back to normal.

It was only a few months ago when Wayne was taken from you. Since then there hasn’t been a moments of peace in your life. Getting up in the morning seemed next to pointless. Food became unappetizing, your hair had become tangled after refusing to brush it, and your room swarmed with heaps of trash you couldn’t be bothered to throw away, all because of this indescribable feeling of loneliness had consumed you and refused to and refused to release you from its suffocating jaws.

You had lost the motivation to keep living.

Every time you closed your eyes, memories of the times you spent with Wayne would flash like pictures in your mind, reminding you that Wayne was no longer there with you or waking up beside you. He would never hold your hands in the soft way he always would, look at you with a glint of hopefulness in his dull, grey eyes. You would never see the way his the skin around eyes crinkled whenever he smiled too widely at a joke you made. All because you two had been careless and had gotten caught.

You knew that your way of living was slowly getting worse, but a part of you didn’t even want to change to get better. Hell, the only clothing on your back that hadn’t been washed was the same jacket you had worn when he was taken from you. His jacket. At some times, the dark green fabric still smelt of him. That was all you had and you held onto that for as long as you could.

Until one day, as normal as the rest, you were scrolling through your phone mindlessly with the intent of filling the hours of the day with snippets of other people’s happy lives. Sure, your heart would ache when you saw couples together and living the life you’d only ever dream of having with Wayne, but the others were simply filler to you. That was until the soft thumping of your door brings you back to reality. You perk your head up and rest your phone down on the couch cushion next to you, sitting up. No one texted you or asked to come over, so you really had no idea who it could be at the door.

In fact, this might be the first visitor you've received in a while, even before your time with Wayne, no one really came over let alone knocked on your door. It seemed out of the ordinary to do that. Maybe it was a care package sent by someone.

With your expectations already low, you wander to the door and gently twisting the knob until you hear a 'click!' that allowed you to cautiously swing the door open.

Mere seconds start to turn into minutes as time stops, only allowing sunlight to stream into your poorly lit home. Little by little, the outside world becomes more visible until finally, you catch a glimpse of the person whose hand is still bent in the shape of a closed fist, ready to knock again. But it stops when it sees you.

"No way." You stop yourself from saying anything further. With the door fully open now, it was clear who was in front of you. Only, you didn't want to believe it at first. How could he be back, how could he even be here when he has no way of coming to you?

Wayne McCullough.

In his eyes, you were always the person to keep him level-headed and his mind as clear as possible, even when nothing seemed to go right. You were there for him as best as you could, always with a smile on your face. He hadn't seen you in so long, yet he knew that this wasn't the Y/n he knew, and that this version of yourself must have only been caused by something horrible. For a few seconds, Wayne stares at your eyes, how they no longer had the familiar shine reflecting like spotlights in them, and how dark and cloudy they've become. He looks down at the redness adorning your under eyes and how tired you looked. Exhausted, even.

You both were at a loss for words. Not knowing what to say or even think, Wayne silently opens his arms and waits for you to process that he's here, in the flesh, and he's standing in front of you. Your heart skips a beat and suddenly, everything comes rushing back as soon as you jump into his arms.

"Wayne?!" Your arms quickly loop around his body and you're hit with that familiar, rough scent of his. Wayne squeezes you tighter, still not wanting to say anything. You ignore it and continue to hold him, feeling your entire body tense up with shock as you're hit with a sudden wave of guilt and remorse. A knot ties itself deep inside your once empty chest, feeling nothing but a thousand weights being tugged off your shoulders the moment you feel his calloused thumbs rub circles into your back.

You've yearned for his touch for so long, and you wanted nothing more than to be swallowed in his embrace, not even daring to move in fear of him stopping. But Wayne had no intention other than to just be there with you. This was more than he could ever ask for.

"What are you doing here?" You ask softly, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck when you feel your weight gradually lifting off from the ground. The familiarity of his coarse hair sweeps past your now tear-soaked cheek and tickles your skin in a way that you've never thought you'd missed. "You were in juvie, but how are you, did you escape?" Your mind raced with questions but Wayne keeps his hands tenderly placed around you.

What kills you most is just how gentle Wayne is with you. You knew Wayne to be strong enough to hurt people badly, to break things unexpectedly and when he didn't mean to, hell he could withstand torture for hours and even stab his own hand without remorse. But when it came to you? Wayne held you like you were brittle, broken and only put together by a thin layer of glue, like you could break at any second if he held onto you just a little tighter. In a way, you felt as though that was true.

Wayne notices when you start to tremble, eventually sobbing directly onto his shoulder. He could feel your hands shake and the way you grip onto him periodically before letting your limbs fall limp, as if crying itself was too tiring to bear. On the third attempt to hold onto him, Wayne exhales, letting a cool breeze flow past your hair and sopping wet face.

"I got released." Is all he says. It's enough for you to rip away from him and stare at him with big eyes. "Cops said they didn't want to lock me up in the first place. That I was some broken kid without any guidance. Almost like they pitied me, you know?"

You nod and start to palm away your tears, but Wayne stops you with the back of a curled finger rubbing under your eyes instead.

"Hey now, why're you crying?" Wayne asks softly, "I didn't go missin' or nothin'. I'm right here, Y/n. I'm right here." Shaking you a bit, Wayne raises his brows, "Alright?"

For a moment, he lets silence fall between you, just soaking up each other's presence. You can tell something's on his mind, but you don't bother to pry if he won't say it first.

"You know, being in that place made me realize a lot of things. Things I didn't want to think about, but those things just kept coming back no matter how hard I pushed them down."

"What's that?"

He hesitates for a moment, grazing just past your hips. "I ain't got no house no more, no family, I'm already expelled from school. I got no place here no more Y/n, I might as well just start over somewhere else." Wayne rolls hip lip under his teeth but keeps talking despite your look of pure devastation, "I figured that with everything that happened with us...you wouldn't wanna see me again. I don't want to hurt you no more, Y/n."

No.

"Cops told me you'd be better off without someone like me."

No.

"And I want what's best for you, you know?" Even he looks like he's on the verge of tears. You've never even seen him cry before. How could he be crying now?

"NO!" You shake your head, "I don't want to lose you again, Wayne. You can't do this to me again. Ever since you were taken I couldn't think of anything else, what I could've done differently. It kills me that I couldn't save you or at least be there with you!" Your start to choke on your own tears, "So don't tell me that you think it's best that you leave me! It's not! How could you say that?"

You watch Wayne's expression go blank as he stares at you, not even blinking. He watches as tears glide down your face now more than ever. His heart aches at the sight of it all.

Your eyes swell with tears leaving your eyes the moment they brim your lashes with every second you look at him. No matter how much you'd look at him, it felt as though it'd never be enough, like at any moment he could slip away from you again. You wanted anything but that. So you keep looking, keep staring, keep holding on until Wayne's lips part, wanting to say something to fill the silence.

"You...really don't want me to leave?" He asks breathlessly, letting his shoulders fall.

"Why would I ever want that?" You sink back into him, squeezing your eyes shut, "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me, Wayne."

He looks at the top of your head as if he doesn't believe you, but then again, the evidence is undeniable. No matter if he tried to stretch it in any other way, Wayne knew he couldn't be anywhere without you. He couldn't, and he didn't want to. Thinking about leaving you always made him feel a sort of indescribable loneliness, which could only be fixed by thinking back to a time where he was with you.

Chewing the inside of his cheek, Wayne sighs and closes his eyes too, fading into a darkness where only he can touch you and feel the warmth he's longed for.

"I never, ever stopped thinking about you, Y/n. I never wanted to hurt you but I thought about coming back to you every day. I never got to say what I wanted to either."

You step away from him and hold his hands in yours, running your fingers over all the lines and creases on his palms, remembering how it was one of the ways you were able to calm down. Wayne closes his hands, though, and shakes yours just enough for you to look at him.

"I'm not going no where. I'm staying put. With you. If you'll let me, Y/n."

That's all you've ever wanted to hear.

"Please, don't ever leave again."

Wayne shakes his head silently and lets go of your hand, only for him to be able to hold the side of your face. You lean into his palm and look up at him, the shine returning just as he'd remembered you to have.

"I don't plan on going anywhere where you're not." He says quietly and lowers himself down to your height. Without another word, a simple tug was all Wayne needed to inch closer to your face and eventually meet your lips with a delicate kiss.

It was more than you could ever ask for.

All of a sudden, you hear the shuttering of a camera behind you as well as a high pitched sob. Naturally, you pull away. Behind Wayne, you realize how he got to your house in the first place, which was never clarified before and what you quickly came to understand why.

"No! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, continue!" Officer Genetti says, waving a hand at you two while looking back at his screen.

"Christ, Jay, are you taking pictures?" Sergent Geller sighs.

"It is a beautiful moment and I'm not letting this go undocumented!"

"Use your damn eyes, Jay."

#kaicubus #kaicubus requests #wayne mccullough #wayne #wayne x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #wayne series #wayne angst #angst #angst to fluff #angst to comfort #angst fanfic #wayne x you #wayne x y/n #wayne fanfiction #x reader #wayne mccullough x y/n #wayne mccullough x reader #wayne mccullough imagine #x fem!reader

[ohworm-writes]

I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT STATION 141. PLEASE. for a friend definitely not for me thinking about how fucking FINEEE good they would be.

「✰」 ━━ STATION 141

RATING PG-13 - Parents strongly cautioned [ Content warnings : light cursing, depictions of a vehicle accident, fires, mentions of injuries, references to and depictions of smoking, peer pressure (?), depiction of a house fire, mentions of and references to 9/11, implications to alcoholism, brief mentions of guilt and insecurity ]

SYNOPSIS Character explorations for the members of Task Force 141 in the case that they opted towards working for the fire department instead of the military, expanding on what the roles they play are, their backgrounds before pursuing the profession, and a few headcanons, here and there.

WORD COUNT 4.9k

Station!141

Firefighters are known for being dorks and pranksters outside of their profession when they’re trying to relax and ease the tension that comes with the job, and Station 141 is no different. Gaz and Soap are the resident pranksters, of course, and perhaps that comes with being the youngest out of anyone employed at the station. But, unfortunately, that leaves Price and Ghost to deal with their tormentation, both the acts and the aftermath of it.

Soap and Gaz do simpler, more tame pranks. Something like dumping water over someone’s head, pieing someone in the face when their backs are turned, or if they’re dozing off, switching the salt and the sugar—that kind of stuff. Simple, annoying pranks—those are elementary. Ghost and Price are evil when it comes to pranking, or, more accurately, getting people at people for pranking them. They’ve replaced the water in the ice cube trays with hotdog water, put cling wrap over the toilet bowl, replaced shampoo with hair dye, and done other things that you wouldn’t even dream of. The two of them get really creative with it. 

Gaz very quickly stopped pranking the two after Ghost snuck into his house and hid those really loud alarm clocks with the bells everywhere, setting forty of them up to go off in the middle of the night. When they went off, he screamed so loudly that he swore he had a heart attack because of it. Soap’s a masochist, though, and he keeps on pranking the both of them without any sign of stopping. He’s never able to one-up Ghost or Price, though, that’s for certain. It’s a challenge for him, though, and it’s fun (sometimes, not often, though). 

Granted, most firefighters already do this, but making fun of, taunting, and mocking cops is a given, and the 141 boys are no different. Soap hooked a donut onto a fishing line once, positioning himself on top of the firetruck, staying hidden, and dangling it above a cop when they were visiting the station one time. They locked onto it quickly. Another time, he did the same sort of thing but left a donut on the floor attached to a fishing line, pulling it closer towards him any time a cop tried to come close to it. Also, plain and simple: making pig sounds. 

They do have a fire dog of their own at the station, actually! And, of course, ever the classic choice, it’s a Dalmatian. In terms of technicality, it’s the Chief’s dog, given that he bought the thing... but, ever the generous man, he allowed the station to adopt the dog as their own. They all fought over the name for days, with some individuals actually getting heated about the matter. Price eventually got sick of it, went down to a pet store, and printed out a tag for the pup, a circular tag that reads the name ‘Ozzie’ with the station’s address printed on the back. Nobody argues against it. 

Soap isn’t the biggest fan of dogs as is, but Ozzie loves him, trailing after him and following his lead without hesitation, the others often joking about how the animal played his shadow better than his own did. Ozzie’s the only dog he likes, but he won’t admit it aloud, giving the dog a playful rub on the head here and there when someone’s around and roughhousing and playing freely with him when they’re alone. Gaz and Price are unabashed in their affection for the canine (Price has bought everything for this dog, he swears it), while Ghost is more or less neutral about his presence, but he won’t deny him a good rub behind the ears if he barks enough.

Let’s spend a moment talking about and appreciating the uniforms that firefighters wear, yeah? Station wear is typically worn around all the time, even under their PPE uniforms when out on calls. It consists of a short or long-sleeved button-up shirt, sometimes as simple as a t-shirt, which is navy blue in color and often sports the insignia of the department or the station or something of the like or any relevant patches. They’re matched with navy blue or black pants, giving the whole outfit a formal yet equally comfortable look.

As for PPE uniforms, the bunker pants are held up by a set of suspenders and matching jacket, often being either black or tan in color with long yellow or red reflective strips stretched out along the fabric at the chest, waist, shoulders, wrists, shins, back, and legs, with knee pads visible from the front of the uniform. The color can depend on either the rank the firefighter holds or, simply, what’s in stock.

But, just to state it, each and every one of the boys within the station looks good in their uniforms. They fit snugly in just the right places and loosely in others, especially the station wear—not to say the PPE doesn’t do the same, but rather, it looks good in the sense that we can all appreciate a man in uniform, now can’t we? PPE uniforms are designed to not fit snugly, providing more mobility that way, and they’re rather bulky. This, however, doesn’t at all negate the fact that the men within Station 141 look fuckin’ good in them.

As a matter of fact, the boys often get a lot of people who come up and flirt with them shamelessly. Sometimes, it can be a bit of a nuisance, with civilians watching from the sidelines as they respond to a call, making flirtatious and lustful remarks—it's distracting, in more negative ways than positive, in complete honesty. Though, when they’re off duty, maybe dressed in a tee with the station’s logo, they can be entertained. 

Gaz was shell-shocked the first time he was flirted with by someone for nothing more than his profession (and, honestly, it pissed him off a little, but he wouldn’t say that aloud), and he was turned into a confused, awkward mess, trying to get himself out of the interaction. Soap will entertain them as much as his attention can handle, but after that? He’s giving polite nods and hums here and there, but he isn’t listening all that much. Ghost just tells people he’s married, even though he isn't—he isn’t all that fond of getting flirted with on the basis of solely his job, much like Gaz. Price, honestly? He could care less. Have at him. 

One of the scariest moments that the station went through where one of the boys lives’ were at stake was in the case of a methanol fire that had broken out on the highway as a result of a crash. A car had run head-on into a truck that carried a methanol chemical tank, which had been damaged and spilled. Nothing bad happened until the car involved in the accident caught fire, lighting the methanol and causing an invisible flame to spread. While all of the boys were on scene, Gaz was busy helping one of the civilians out of their car from the wreck when the fire started. 

Obviously, immediately, he jumped away from the civilians, not wanting to catch them on fire too—they didn’t, thankfully—but Gaz was left screaming and yelling for help as the fire began to burn through his PPE equipment. Ghost put out the flame with a CO2 ABC extinguisher, realizing what the cause was immediately, but Gaz still suffered through some heavy burns along his back, legs, and arms and rushed to the hospital sooner after being put out. 

The first time Soap tried to go down the fire pole during the fire academy, he sprained his ankle, not knowing how to descend it properly and just shooting straight down onto his foot. He was fine, thankfully, but nobody ever let him live it down. Ghost tells him to be careful with this big, smug grin spread out across his face anytime Soap rushes through the fire house to go towards the fire pole to descend the floors (he flips him off each and every time, rightfully so). 

Price tries to call out sick every time he thinks it’s going to rain. For anyone who knows anything about first responders, it’s that they hate it when it rains. It’s a guarantee for more accidents, more calls, and, put simply, more work. Price has been working long enough in the field to know this, so he just so happens to catch the cold or the flu any time he sees it’s going to downpour—unless, of course, someone calls in sick before him and he can’t get out of work, or if he fails to check the weather. He’s pissed off for the rest of the day, and he makes it everyone’s problem. 

Soap is the one who's driving the truck, obviously, with Price sitting in the passenger’s seat. Behind Soap sits Ghost, and Gaz sits across from him. It’s lively whenever they go on calls together; most of the conversation in the truck is devoted to work, but there are more than a few occasions when they’ll just talk comfortably together. Especially on the rides back to the station from calls, usually when it’s getting late at night. That’s when the most heartfelt conversations happen. 

Overall? A dorky yet hardworking group of firefighters dedicated to their professions, sharing a bond like no other. 

Firefighter!Price

He, of course, plays the role of ‘Captain’ at the station, primarily due to the fact that this role does actually exist as a role within the profession; while I would have made him the ‘Chief’, the ‘Captain’ plays a way more present role as the commander of a company and overseeing the daily operations of a station. Chiefs, typically, only supervise and view the situation as is, not often actually being a part of the process of resolving an incident.

Firefighter!Price, who, contrary to popular belief, does not, in fact, smoke. It’s not as if he’s prohibited from smoking, per se, especially given that around 13.6 percent of firefighters smoke, but it’s more of a moral thing for him—his job is to fight fires, and cigarettes and other smoking materials make up a huge percentage of top fire causes, so it seems, to him, like a stupid decision to make to smoke. Also, it would affect his ability to do his job, and it just looks bad to have someone that people are supposed to look up to doing something like that, so he doesn’t.

Firefighter!Price, who, okay, yes, has smoked a cigarette and cigar at one point in his life, maybe once or twice, or a few more times than that, but never consistently. It’s not a habit that he has or ever indulges in, only having ever taken part in it thanks to a friend or two offering him a cigarette or cigar, outstretched hands taunting him, and teasing “c'mon, one puff ain’t gonna kill ya’, mate”, to which he relents. He hates the taste of cigarettes, and he refuses to go anywhere near one again, but he can entertain a cigar around the right company. 

Initially, he had intended on joining the military straight out of secondary school; however, a few months before he intended on joining, he bore witness to a violent house fire within his neighborhood. The house had been completely engulfed in flames, with smoke pluming into the sky and the flames spreading to a few nearby houses. He watched on with awe as the fire department showed up with swiftness and took care of the situation with ease, resulting in no casualties whatsoever. 

Although, yes, the job was far from being a proper equivalent to the military, it still provided a similar sense of fulfillment, and he would still be protecting innocents. (On a morbid note, his life would still be consistently on the line and threatened.) Thus, he joined the profession when he was around nineteen, working as a volunteer firefighter for a few years before eventually taking on the job full-time. He’s worked with numerous different stations and companies for the past ten years, give or take a few, and he’s made a number of different connections throughout different departments. 

Firefighter!Price, who toys with his suspenders when he’s clad in uniform like it’s a second job. It’s an unconscious habit he’s developed with the elastic straps, and there’s a certain progression it follows—it's like clockwork. It’ll start off with him simply hooking his thumbs into the belt loops of the trousers of his bunker gear, holding himself there comfortably as he stands and walks around the station—casual, if anything. But then, it slowly starts to progress further, with his hands wandering, his fingers gently trailing up and down the straps, and his calloused fingers brushing over the material in a repetitive up-and-down motion.

Firefighter!Price, who holds onto his suspenders near his chest in a loose grip, his thumbs grazing back and forth over them, pulling them not even an inch away from his chest, just holding them there. That is, of course, before he starts to snap the elastic against his chest, gently or not, it doesn’t matter; the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt as he repeats the action over and over and over again—it's something to do with his hands; he’s restless, and who can blame him?

Firefighter!Price, whose natural scent is simply smoke, the acrid redolence of sulfur clinging to his skin like a parasite, a second skin that he’s come to call his own. No matter how many times he washes his clothes until they start to fade into a lighter shade, no matter how many times he scrubs his skin until it blotches into harsh, raw, red patches, that scent still clings to him. It’s, in a sense, becoming a part of him, molding in with his natural musk effortlessly until it becomes it, a scent identifiable to him, whether that’s for better or for worse, he wouldn’t know.

Firefighter!Ghost

Again, of course, Ghost plays the role of ‘Lieutenant’ at the station, which is a role that falls directly under ‘Captain’, leaving him tasked with typical daily operations, readying their crew for emergency situations, and supervising the Engine or Rescue Company and the personnel within it, reporting directly to the Fire Captain or Chief, acting as a temporary captain, should they be absent from a scene.

Firefighter!Ghost, who kids absolutely adore. He can come off scary and intimidating, sure, given the fact that he’s, put simply, a huge guy, not to mention the balaclava he often sports that conceals his identity. But kids still think he’s the coolest guy in the whole world. Being a firefighter already has its own charms; several kids are asking him about his profession and how their dream job is to become a firefighter when they grow up, like him. He’s a bit awkward, unsure of how to respond to all of the compliments and praise, but takes it in stride.

Firefighter!Ghost, who has to deal with the fact that nearly every kid he comes across adores him, soon decides to just embrace it, honking the horn on the engine any time he passes by kids who wave at him or whose eyes light up when they see the truck, relishing in the way they let out loud, excited yells. Whenever kids come by the station, either for field trips or to simply ask if they can have a tour, he takes up the task of touring them around, lifting each and every one into the truck, watching as they giggle, laugh, and smile so brightly at him. 

A close friend of his who became a firefighter from secondary school was the one who eventually got him into the field, the friend in question having joined a little more than half a year after the two of them had graduated, though he didn’t immediately and solely join due to his friend’s encouragement. He still worked as an apprentice butcher for nearly two years after graduating at a local grocery store; that job kept up most of his focus, though instead of joining the military after September 11th, he chose to join the fire department.

(Because the fire department played such a large role in this event, I thought it would match more appropriately than him joining the military, like his background states in his biography.)

His friend was the one to tell him everything he needed to have before joining: his certifications, his license, his CPAT, et cetera. He completed each task without any hesitation or reluctance, and he was even willing to get a degree in Fire Science if it meant he would get into the profession. He passed the academy with ease and, soon after, was offered a volunteer position working at the same station his friend was positioned at, transferring, unfortunately, without him to Station 141 a year and a half later, though the two still keep in touch regularly. 

Firefighter!Ghost, who comes back to the station after a long day of rough calls, be it mentally or physically grueling, likely both, hops off the truck with deep, guttural breaths, beginning to strip himself of his PPE as he makes his way towards the locker rooms, hanging and folding everything up, his SCBA first, then his helmet, then his bunker gear, before he finally tears off his balaclava—his hair’s completely damp with sweat, beads dripping down his face, splayed across his forehead messily, letting out an exhausted sigh, running a hand through his hair, slicking the blond strands back across his skull.

Firefighter!Ghost, who takes a seat on one of the benches in the locker room, leans over with his elbows on his knees, his hands falling limp in the space between them, his back slumped over, and his shoulders dropped. His station wear is stained with sweat; the skin around his eyes and across the bridge of his nose darkened from the smoke that had penetrated through, dirt clinging to his body like a second skin. His suspenders hang off around his waist lazily, clinking against the bench as he shuffles around, letting out a long, drawn-out groan before standing and moving to rid himself of the day’s events with a well-deserved shower.

Firefighter!Ghost, whose vice falls to liquor. It’s nothing close to an excessive extent, but it’s enough to take the edge off and ease his mind from the horrors that come with the profession. It's a heavy task to fulfill, and having worked in the field for so long, enough so that he’s become an officer, that means he’s seen his fair share of shit, so who can blame him? After a particularly rough day, he’ll take a seat in the common room or his dorm, hand gripped tightly around the neck of a bottle of Bourbon, mask pulled up to his nose, drinking until his head spins and he can’t think. He'll wake up with a hangover that bashes against his skull, wash his face, and prepare himself for the day, only to repeat this cycle over and over again—maybe it is a bit excessive.

Firefighter!Soap

In a more unique aspect, Soap, instead of simply being a firefighter, works as a Firefighter Engineer, his primary focus being directed towards maintaining and driving firefighting vehicles and performing maintenance tasks on the vehicles. Though, still, he does play his role as a firefighter all the same, his specialized position not interfering or making it so that he has to do one or the other. He’s still put in his time to become a firefighter and accomplish the tasks that come with the profession, and he does his job well; all it is is that he plays a specialized role in addition to that fact. 

Firefighter!Soap, whose dorm is positively filled with the drawings and doodles he’s received personally when he and his crew visit local primary schools to teach them about fire safety and how to properly act during a fire drill, spends a significant amount of time telling the kids all about their careers and what they do, giving them a tour of the truck and everything. And, by the end of the day, three or four separate kids had given him drawings they had made of him and his crew. One little girl in particular gifts her drawing to him, and it’s just of him and her, holding hands, his mohawk overexaggerated, with a message written out sloppily, stating, 'I want to be just like you when I grow up!!!’.

Firefighter!Soap, who tapes each drawing he receives to the mirror in his dorm, the one he gets ready in front of each and every day without fail, fingers gently grazing over the different people within the pictures, each messy stroke of crayon, colored pencil, and washable marker. It’s a reminder to him of why he does what he does. Of why he puts his life on the line each and every day without fail. When the job gets tough and unbearable, the weight of it laying heavy on his shoulders, guilt and insecurity eating up at him, he looks at the drawings, memorizing them, committing every detail to memory—he has to make those kids proud by keeping on. And so he does. 

He dropped out of university to become a firefighter. He initially majored in the field of Military Technologies and Applied Sciences, specializing in the fields of Explosive Ordinance and Bomb Disposal, but after spending nearly five semesters in school, he concluded that the field and higher education weren’t something he was willing to pursue. So, he applied to become a firefighter when he was twenty-one, spending the first year and a half working towards getting his EMT certification and taking his CPAT, already having his driver’s license, and spending the next six months in the fire academy before he was eventually employed as a volunteer firefighter.

He spent the next two years working as a volunteer firefighter, not yet deciding to take on the role of a full-time firefighter, given he had a bit of apprehension and worries about taking on the job for longer hours. However, it was soon after he first became a volunteer firefighter that he learned about the career path of a firefighter engineer, which garnered his interest, which eventually led him down the path of driver training before ending up with the position and taking on the job full-time. 

Firefighter!Soap, who can’t even help the way his muscles flex as he works, which is most visible when he’s in his station wear—that short-sleeved button-up shirt hugging onto his biceps with ease, his pants holding onto his thighs snugly—it's the perfect combination of loose and tight. It leaves nothing and everything up for the imagination to think of. Especially when he’s sweating through his top, the fabric clings to his skin like a glove, showing off every inch of him without shame. 

Firefighter!Soap, who is so unconscious of how strong he actually is, regularly wearing equipment that can weigh up to seventy-five pounds (34.01 kilograms), not to mention the weight of the hose and the pressure it exudes, the way he has to control it, or all of the other equipment he uses while on the job. Because he’s so unaware of it, this just leads to him picking up some of the heaviest things—people, too—and acting as if they were nothing, because, to his credit, it isn’t anything to him. 

Firefighter!Soap, who is an earlier riser. He wakes up the earliest of anyone who works at the station, being the first one to arrive at work if he’s sleeping off site. He tidies up what he sees, maybe goes out and grabs some coffee or pastries for his co-workers, and just relaxes and basks in the silence of the station—that is, before the others begin to arrive, of course. If he’s sleeping on site? Same thing. The only difference is that he doesn’t have to rush around like he typically would; driving to work takes up the most of his time, so he can work at his leisure if he's already at the station.

Firefighter!Gaz

Gaz, arguably the coolest of them all (it’s not an arguable statement whatsoever; it’s just a fact), gets the job, plain and simple, of just being a firefighter. Responding to emergency calls, performing search and rescues, providing aid with traffic accidents, and educating the public on fire safety are just some of the tasks he completes each and every day. The job is both physically and mentally grueling. Yes, the horrors that can come with the job are unlike any other, but god, is it such a rewarding profession to be able to see the direct result of your actions 

Firefighter!Gaz, who actually really enjoys having new recruits shadow under him their first few months on the job. Even in meeting them for the first time, he has such a welcoming and warm personality, not at all shy to introduce himself, how long he’s been working in the field, the ups and downs of the job—everything! He spends a lot of time getting to know the recruit, not just in a professional sense but a personal one, too, and it fosters such an accepting environment that the recruit can become comfortable in, which is the whole goal!

Firefighter!Gaz, who can be stern sometimes when it comes to teaching newer recruits, but those occasions come far and few between, favoring a gentler, kinder approach of encouragement and redirecting and teaching the recruits on how to properly hook up the truck to a hydrant or operate the pressure controls for the water on the truck as opposed to yelling and barking out orders with a firm strictness. The Chief typically sends all of the new recruits over to Gaz for this exact reason, and, as you might have guessed, these recruits become professionals in no time. 

Unlike the others, Gaz actually had the intention of joining the fire department since he was young. He was one of those little boys who had a number of different toy trucks and cars and played with them obsessively, and his favorites were the firefighter trucks. His dream of becoming a firefighter was solidified when they came to his primary school one day. One of the firefighters present gifted him one of those crappy plastic helmets, letting him sit in the truck and telling him everything he wanted to know. 

From that point onwards, he dedicated himself to becoming a firefighter, spending years getting himself into the ideal physical shape required for the job, taking medical and health courses throughout secondary school to prepare himself for the EMT training program he’d apply to take once he turned eighteen, obtaining his license as quickly as possible—he's devoted to the career path, and he fully intends to push every ounce of his being into fulfilling the role to the best of his abilities, and then some. The day he graduates from the fire academy, in addition to actually receiving an offer to join a station as a volunteer firefighter, he swears up and down, is single-handedly the best day of his life. 

Firefighter!Gaz, who's almost always the first one to rush inside a burning building, given that it’s still structurally stable and will remain that way for the duration of time that he’s inside, holds a hatchet in both hands, firmly grasped, kicking the front door inwards before making his way through the interior. He’s completely composed, not an inch of doubt taunting him as he sweeps the area, finding civilians and immediately working to usher them out of the building, barking orders in a way where it sounds less like a command, so softer and so much more filled with care. He can easily sling anyone over his shoulder, hold them in his arms, or lift them on his back if need be, rough grunts resounding from him, strained at times from both the heat and the weight of carrying another human being.

Firefighter!Gaz, who doesn't ever complain or tell the other person to move and fend for themselves, because that’s his job, and he’ll be damned if he doesn’t fulfill it to the fullest. Given he doesn’t have any civilians to worry about, he’s rushing through flames, heat nipping at his PPE, trying its hardest to penetrate the fabric, failing while he comes out of the building, fire trailing after him, smoke and dirt caking his body beneath his uniform, and labored breaths wracking his body. All he can do is rip off his SCBA when he's at a safe distance from the smoke, mask off, sweat dripping down his skin, soak his hair, and kick his head back as he breathes the smell of anything but smoke.

Firefighter!Gaz, who always walks around the station in his bunker gear, is ready to go at a moment's notice. He's rarely seen in something as simple as his station wear, complaining that the uniform is unnecessary to be seen in if he’s going to change into his bunker gear anyway. In reality, the weight of the gear is comforting to him—it's heavy, yes, and can leave him sweating until he’s certain he’s drenched if he’s in it for too long—but the weight, feel, smell, and overall “vibe” of the bunker gear is something he’s spent his whole life dreaming of. Why be out of it if he’s dedicated his life to becoming the person to wear it?

#call of duty x reader #call of duty #ghost #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #captain john price #price x reader #john price #captain price #price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader #john mactavish #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz #kyle garrick #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #cod x reader #cod #141 x reader #141 #soap x reader #soap

[morningstarbee]

The funny thing is, Will was never really that bothered by Hannibal being a serial killer, or even a cannibal. Like that was never his problem with him, outside of the specific people Hannibal was killing being people Will cared about.

The reason Will is so angry with Hannibal in Season 2 is because Hannibal pretended to be his friend and then betrayed him. His feelings about Hannibal after being framed are shown pretty clearly in dialogue throughout Season 2:

Will: I felt so betrayed by you. Betrayal was the only thing that felt real to me. I trusted you, and I needed to trust you.

Hannibal: I feel like I've been watching our friendship on a split screen: the friendship I perceived on one side, and the truth on the other. Will: It's a terrible feeling, isn't it?

Will: Do you have a shadow, Peter? Someone only you can see, someone you considered a friend. He made you feel less alone until you saw what he really is?

Will doesn't want Hannibal to be arrested out of some moral goodness. He doesn't betray Hannibal in Season 2 because he thinks it's the right thing to do. It's revenge, plain and simple. His feelings were hurt, and he wants Hannibal to suffer as well. I see so many people upset with Will's actions in S2 as if they were a result of him being a cop and not him being heartbroken.

#hannibal #nbc hannibal #murder husbands #hannigram #will graham #hannibal lecter

[depravitycentral]

Hii I think I've read all your hxh stuff but the Tumblr blog search is kinda scuffed so if you've already answered something like this just ignore me

Anyway I was curious to know how/if you think the phantom troupe members would share a partner. Like maybe not all of them sharing one partner (that's the dream fr tho lol) but maybe 2 or 3 members sharing one if any of them are into that

Then that leads me to my next two questions, Kurapika and Leorio, would they share a partner or are they just not into that

Then lastly (and if you don't write for them or have any ideas that's fine ignore this) do you think Silva and Kikyo would keep a little "pet" around?

Anyway sorry for the long ask, I guess I could have split this up but I didn't want to spam your box 😅 have a lovely day! ❤️

Please ignore how late this answer is... Also the answer to the Silva/Kikyo question will be posted separately!

Tw: kidnapping, mentions of physical violence, manipulation, mentioned non-con

I was wondering how long it would take before poly yanderes would be discussed on this blog!!

My personal philosophy on poly yandere relationships is that they only work in very, very specific circumstances. The whole concept of a yandere is someone who feels such blinding and overwhelming love and desire for another person that they literally throw their morals out the window just for the chance to bask in a bit of affection or love from their special someone, and adding another person into the equation doesn't exactly fit this vision.

Most yanderes don't want to share you - you're theirs, simple and plain, and often only a very specific person could be the one exception to this rule. Even then, the relationship is often still strained, because unless feelings develop between the two yanderes themselves, jealousy will always be an issue and you as the darling will have to be very careful about making sure you give equal amounts of love and time to each yandere.

But instead of focusing on the logistics of it, let's discuss the actual pairs/their dynamics!!

Machi and Pakunoda are the least resistant to sharing. They respect each other, and while it may be a stretch to call them friends, this respect and trust has led to a solid foundation for them to build off of. Neither are especially forceful with their darlings, instead preferring to hover and take care of them with minimal physical force, and this helps keep both of them placated. Machi is sort of the bad cop while Pakunoda is the good cop, but the reason this pairing works so well is that they help bring out qualities in each other that would normally be their weak points. Pakunoda helps Machi relax and warm up to physical affection with her, because her own natural touchiness is easier to convince Machi that touching you won't be the disaster she's so sure of. And Machi helps Pakunoda attend to every facet of your wellbeing - Machi properly feeds you, tends to any wounds of yours, makes sure that you're getting enough sunlight, that you're still moving and not becoming lethargic, all things that Pakunoda knows she should do but sometimes skips in favor of kissing you or spoiling you. These two are definitely the best pair to get stuck with - still overbearing about your safety and hard to handle always watching you, but certainly better than others.

Shalnark and Chrollo are, admittedly, not equal players in this partnership. Most likely, Shalnark initially became interested in you, and upon Chrollo's eventually learning of your existance, he found himself charmed as well. Shalnark wasn't the happiest at the notion of sharing, but he sees the partnership as an opportunity to help keep you in line and make himself look good. He and Chrollo are both very, very talented manipulators, and by playing off of each other, they're able to present themselves as simply loving partners, managing to gaslight you into thinking that you're overreacting about them being 'horrible' and 'evil' for kidnapping you and forcing you to be their partner. And frankly, it works - they're convincing, and because you get no reprieve or time away from them both at once, eventually you will begin seeing things their way. This isn't a particularly desirable relationship, if only because while you'll eventually be happy (your mind too mixed up to even realize you're unhappy, that is), you'll lose a piece of yourself in a way that you wouldn't with other pairings. You'll be somewhat of a shell of your former self - still you, but with the parts that they like emphasized, and the more problematic parts of your personality (like your desire to leave them) being repressed.

Uvogin and Nobunaga is possible, but it's unlikely that things would last long. This is because Nobunaga is particularly delusional, and Uvogin is particularly lucid. And this combo - Nobuanga's infantilization of you and Uvogin's leniency in your independence - spells out disaster. Things would be tense; arguments would sprout often, with you left to awkwardly stand in the middle, desperately hoping that Uvogin will win the argument. (You don't like him either, but at least his ideas are less dehumanizing than Nobunaga's.) I think it could work, if they worked hard enough to establish how to treat you, but you'd be constantly walking on eggshells around them. (Plus, if you think your poor pussy is getting a little too much action with just one of them as your yandere, then get ready - they fuck you every night, nearly, one taking your cunt while the other shoves himself down your throat. Occasionally they'll even try for your ass, though Uvogin has the sense to force Nobunaga to get you properly prepped before he fucks what he thinks is 'her best hole - it's so tight'. They're just gross, and you'll very obviously favor Uvogin - which once again sparks problems of jealousy. So it's possible, but unlikely to work out.

Phinks and Feitan is another unlikely combo - their types are very different, firstly, but if they did manage to develop feelings for you, things will become very violent very fast. Neither wants to hurt you (at least, not deep down), but they don't exactly agree on how to punish you or respond to your misbehaviors. Feitan is more strict, deciding that you must be punished when you act out because it's the only way to get you to behave how they want. Phinks doesn't share this mindset - he's more of a sucker than Feitan, more inclined to just make you promise not to do it again and then naively believe that you meant it. And this leads to problems - their treatment of you is so radically different, both in the way that they speak to you and how they touch you, that they'll be fighting over nearly everything. And while you won't ever be physically harmed, you'll be subject to watch them physically fight when they're arguing, swinging fists and lightning fast moves making you curl up into a ball because god, they're monsters. Again, it's possible if they can figure out a system that's a compromise for both of them, but it's unlikely.

This probably isn't the answer you're looking for, but it's my opinion! There are probably some more pairings that could potentially work, but these are the ones I see being most likely.

Unrelated to the Phantom Troupe, some other pairs I could see being potentially successful are: Leorio and Kurapika (they're into that!! more protection, as far as Kurapika is concerned, and Leorio is more clingy than possessive, so he wouldn't mind sharing with his best friend whom he is already displaying borderline homoerotic tendencies towards), Knuckle and Morel, Misturi and Obanai, Uzui + wives, Douma and Akaza though it would be very, very rocky and is significantly more unstable than these other matchups, Aizawa and Hizashi, Overhaul and Chrono, Tendou and Ushijima, Bokuto and Akaashi, Hinata and Kenma, don't ask me why but Goshiki and Kindaichi, Kita and Aran, Suna and Osamu

#_lee discusses #yandere hxh #_hxh #yandere kny #yandere bnha #yandere haikyuu #_bnha #_haikyuu #_kny #_all fandoms

[brokenpieces-72]

Taskforce 141!ganster au x reader

Old Bed

This is part 5. Leave a comment if you want to be tagged in future posts. Navigation

The air is tense and well no shit. You weren’t expecting the hideout Kyle would take you to, would be the same one Simon and Johnny would be at. Before anyone could say anything else, Simon told you to follow him and take your shoes off first. You took off your shoes and set them aside before following him into a small hallway. Johnny kept an eye on you while you followed his boss. Gaz pat him on the back as he made his way to the couch.

“Set your stuff in the room there. Come back out, I’ll get you a drink.” He says walking away before you could reply. You step into the room, and find a small simple bedroom. Everything is neat, and you notice a photo on the nightstand next to the twin bed. You recognize it. It’s a photo of you and your father when you were younger. Was this your dad’s room at one point? There were a couple of times when your father didn’t come home until the early hours of the morning. You guessed maybe he stayed here for a bit. Something about the room, even with it being so plain made you feel safe. Like he was sitting with you on the bed, watching you going through your stuff. You pulled out a different hoodie, taking off your current one leaving it inside the jacket. You laid it on the bed, and looked at the mirror hanging on the wall by the small closet. Your arms were cover in bruises, that were easily visible with you in your tank top. The swelling in your eyes had gone down. Moving your arms, there was some pain but it was mainly just soreness. Nothing broken thankfully.

You come back out with your other hoodie and your beanie pulled down closer to your eye. You didn’t want to make a fuss. You find Kyle in a t-shirt and jeans, his jacket on the couch armrest. Simon notices you and jerks his head toward the group, gesturing you to join them. You notice Simon’s mask is over his nose and mouth, wearing lounge pants and long sleeved shirt. Soap takes another shot at the table, cursing under his breath, and leaning against his cue. Ripped jeans, and hoodie, making him less intimidating than he usually is. Not by much though. You step closer to the table but keep your hands in your pockets.

Ghost takes a shot himself, letting the silence remain and the tension grow. Gaz just stays on the couch watching you and Soap. Price told him shit was tense, but damn.

“You play?” Kyle asks, finally breaking the silence.

“Some. I’m okay at it.” You mumble just loud enough for him to understand.

“Liar.” Soap comments under his breath, taking a shot. Another sunk, only two other’s remaining and the 8. You go very quiet, letting the label sting. Kyle gives Soap a look of annoyance.

“He’s right. They’re better than okay.” Ghost says, leaning over and just missing the pocket making his ball bounce off into a worse position. “Better than Soap.”

“No less a liar.” You comment to yourself.

“You’re not a liar.” Soap says almost begrudgingly, walking around the table for a better angle. You look at him as he takes the shot and misses his ball.

“You sai-“

“I know what I said. You never lied though.” He says stepping back and standing next to you. “Secrets and lies… you never said you weren’ a cop. We knew your da and we guessed… just didna wanna be right.”

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say in response. He was right, but the guilt remained. You felt he was owed at least that much.

“Oi love birds, quit the sap. Y/n mind making this shit for me.” Ghost says offering the cue. You take it, trying to think of it as how it was when you first got close to Soap. When you lean down ready to take the shot though, you wince. You try to hide it by shifting your position but that makes it worse. When you take the shot, you get it in the pocket but something in your shoulder audibly pops making you flinch.

“What’s wrong?” Johnny asks.

“Nothing, just sore.” You say brushing it off.

“Some cops jumped em.” Kyle mentions, while Ghost sinks the 8 ball. Johnny says something in Scottish, you can’t quite make out.

“I’m fine.” You say. Johnny takes off your beanie without warning.

“Sit on the couch, I’ll get you some painkillers.” Johnny says leaning the cue against the table. He sounds like a disappointed older brother. You sit on the couch next to Gaz. It’s surprisingly comfortable, and you feel some cracking from your bones. Good cracking. You can’t explain it but once again, you feel safe and relaxed. More safe than you’ve felt in your own apartment by yourself. Johnny gives you the painkiller.

“Why they turn?” Johnny asks leaning back against the pool table standing in front of you.

“Told them I wanted to be left alone. Hadn’t shown up for sometime, hadn’t done much for a week. They decided that maybe kicking my ass would bring you guys running to help me. Prove my worth to you guys. Just kept telling them to fuck off. That wasn’t enough.” You explain, taking the painkiller.

“Give us names, we’ll slash their tires.” Kyle offers.

“Pfft, not as much fun.” Johnny adds. “I say we just do what they did to Y/N.”

“And puts Y/N at risk. Right now, the police think they’re on the side of the law. Gaz you mentioned Graves coming out of their apartment?” Ghost asks, folding his arms and looking at Gaz. Gaz nods. You didn’t love Graves but the last thing you wanted was for him to get caught with the wrong people. The 141 guys were the right people for you, but not for Graves.

“He’s my dad’s friend.” You say quickly. “Checks up on me. I report to him.”

“You tell him anything about us?” Johnny asks. He gives you a hard serious look.

“No. Nothing incriminating.” You say.

“What did he say when you came in with all the bruises?” Gaz asks.

“Asked me what happened… sounded like he was worried but I don’t know.” You explain. They’re silent now, trying to figure out if Graves had something to do with it. They all knew Graves, the kind of man he was. Graves wasn’t a shit cop, but he wasn’t exactly clean either. Your father and Graves were partners, and in the force that meant something. But that night…

“Just told me to text him when I got somewhere safe. Told him I would stay the night somewhere else.” You say breaking the hard silence. “I texted him earlier when we parked, location is turned off.”

“Good. You best rest up, it’ll help you recover.” Ghost says. You don’t argue and get up going to your room.

The remaining three are quiet for a moment, not making eye contact, not talking, and hardly even moving. The night your father died, Graves was there. For a while they thought Graves might have done his partner in, but if so, why was he so hard on you. Why put you in the same place your father had been, and so close to himself? Graves was a hard ass but not cruel. They could all attest to that. Even Soap who’d been shot by him. For now only time would tell, but with the cops being more persistent, and more sketchy shit going on behind closed doors, something was up.

Laswell called Price that same night. He had just gotten home from the bar, and sat down to relax with some football.

“Turn on the news.” She ordered him.

“Why?” He asked, getting the remote anyways. When he turned on the tv his question was answered.

“No fucking way…” he muttered into the phone.

“We’ve got a big problem John.” Laswell comments watching the same news broadcast.

“Yeah, well… no shit.” Price replies.

The tv announced the return of the successful businessman and new chief police commissioner:

Vladimir Makarov.

@yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @H0n3y_L3m0n @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz

#cod au #john soap mactavish #task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #philip graves #call of duty modern warfare #cod gangster au #emotions #this one is a little sad #wholesomeness is coming #gender neutral reader

[thefeistydragon]

If you believe in thought crimes you are not safe for people with ocd or other conditions that cause intrusive thoughts, plain and simple. Kill the cop in your head and recognize that how you treat others is what matters.

You can think the "purest" thoughts in the world but if you go out and hurt someone else you've still hurt them. If you have the most violent messed up thoughts in existence but treat others kindly you haven't hurt anyone.

And especially if thoughts are intrusive, those are not even a reflection of values or biases that would lead to action.

[buildabettermeme]

Why is no one talking about the riots and protests over the murder of 17-year-old Nahel by police in France?

This boy was only 17 years old, shot in the chest in the driver's seat by cops. People seem to think there isn't racism in France but there is. We all need to be talking about this. Nahel should not be forgotten.

The French government is attacking their own citizens with 40,000 police officers (yes, 40k cops) to quell the unrest. 5,000 cops are being sent to Paris alone.

The French government needs to realize that there wouldn't be riots if you didn't allow cops to and protect cops who kill unarmed, non-threatening, peaceful civilians, ESPECIALLY CHILDREN. French citizens won't let their government get away with this. Neither should the rest of the world.

If we all join forces to condemn this horrible tragedy, all across the world, maybe less young POC people will be murdered in cold blood by police officers. Maybe the French government WON'T sanction murder of their citizens for exercising the basic human right of free speech and protest. Maybe, one day, cops will have stricter standards and punishments. Maybe, in the future, there won't be cops at all, and no one would die by their hand. But we HAVE to work together to ever see that happen.

Blow it up. Blaze it if you want to. Find every post about this murder that you can and FORCE the media to notice.

Nahel's mother is organizing the protesting and has been photographed speaking and acting out for her son. We should also support her, because not enough parents would do this for their murdered child/ren. I know mine wouldn't. But she is, and she deserves to be recognized and supported.

Don't let children be murdered in vain, without notice, without awareness, without action. If we will not avenge our next generation, they won't be here to avenge anyone else. Don't let them die, especially not like this.

I don't know how to start a GoFundMe but if anyone did and wanted to, this would be a great place and cause for funds to go to.

Make the French government quake in their boots. Make them terrified of their own people. Make the government pale at the reality that is facing them; they will lose everything, all of their power, all of their money, if they do not get their shit together and protect their goddamn people.

This CNN article is horrifically boot-licking, however it is the most comprehensive reporting I have found in English, and my French is unfortunately nonexistent.

Don't buy into the copaganda. These fuckers are murderers, plain, cold, and simple.

Fuck the French police.

Fuck ALL police.

(Disclaimer: I am horrible at tags, I'm learning I swear)

#nahel #police brutality #police murder #child murder #french police #france #riots #gun violence #protesting #human rights #civil rights #fuck the french police #justice for nahel #justice for cop brutality #justice #poc #people of color #racism

[purpleheartskies]

One thing that's always bothered me after s3 came out is the claim that Robby didn't have remorse after the school fight.

First off, it was very clear from Robby's demeanor in his scene with Daniel at the rehab center that Robby was very truly remorseful. Also, Robby clearly took accountability. He literally stated what he had done.

"But I caused all of this. I'm the one who kicked Miguel..."

It's also always important to call out that it had been an accident. Miguel had without a doubt pushed Robby to his limit. Robby reacted within seconds of Miguel letting go. It's ridiculous that some people say that Robby should have calmed down immediately after Miguel let go. Let's focus on this for a bit. According to some people, Robby isn't supposed to have very human emotions or have very human responses after having been in a fight like that after being attacked. Would those same people be able to calm down immediately? No. Plain and simple. Even Robby running away afterwards was very understandable because (1) "flight" response and (2) his parents are useless and had recently left him to starve for months and Daniel had just disowned him again. He knows he's alone. He ran out of fear, not malice. Robby had injured Miguel by accident, but he still had remorse for doing so. Other characters have intentionally physically hurt him, and those characters have yet to have remorse or take accountability even by the end of s5. After the school fight, it took time for Robby to calm down, which is a realistic portrayal of trauma responses because they can last for some time even. For example, in s4 Robby stayed in his "fight response" of wanting to do whatever it takes to win the tournament for months, until after his match with Kenny.

Back to the scene with Daniel. Right after Robby clearly took accountability about it with Daniel, even refusing to let Daniel take the blame, Daniel ambushed Robby with the cops. Even though Daniel hadn't planned for it to be an ambush like it became, it's especially important that Daniel hadn't talked to Robby first before calling the cops. Daniel didn't give Robby that time, space, and trust to make the decision on his own. Like I talk about in my post about Robby being like the wild rare bonsai tree, Daniel made it clear that he doesn't have faith in Robby.

Now, as parents and adults, Johnny and Shannon are useless to Robby. Johnny had spent maybe a couple of hours looking for Robby before giving up, and that was only after Daniel went to Johnny and convinced him to help after 2 weeks of Johnny not doing anything useful. Shannon seemed to have immediately called Daniel after Robby showed up at the rehab center and just handed Robby over to Daniel, letting him handle everything. And what did Daniel do? See the above.

Johnny's reaction when Robby asked him where he'd been for over one month after their "one good day" together before the school fight. Johnny literally has no legitimate response he could give Robby.

So the 3 adults Robby was supposed to rely on were the complete opposite of truly supportive or helpful. They weren't there for him like he needed them to be.

In all of this, some people are like "Robby didn't have remorse?" Really? Robby had been experiencing trauma after trauma, including those inflicted on him by these "caring" adults (neglect and abandonment are traumas too). Robby went into survival mode. He has no one, and he had to look after himself. He didn't have adults or friends or anyone who truly supported him. It's not that he didn't have remorse or didn't care. He literally had to focus on keeping it together and making it through the whole situation, including juvie, on his own.

When Sam made her speech at the city council meeting in s3e8 and said,

"Sometimes the scars you can't see are the ones that hurt the most"

I thought of Robby. And, as I talk about in Robby's rejection of toxic empowerment post, Robby's behavior later in the episode is exactly the result of that: his scars that no one sees. His trauma responses, including that "fight" response at Miyagi-Do, are the result of hurt. Robby had been in an unsafe, traumatizing environment for months, and within minutes of seeing Miguel for the first time, Mr. "Strike First" Miguel stepped up and challenged Robby even though Robby had told him to stay out of it. Robby had been keeping his distance from Sam and his anger under control. Miguel was once again worsening a situation that was under control. And before this scene, Miguel had hurt him that day in school and at the s1 avt and at the canyon party. Robby's history with Miguel is mostly Miguel hurting him. It's so ironic that Miguel made that speech at the city council meeting, talking only about his injury and recovery and leaving out that he had assaulted Robby first and escalated the situation in school.

Miguel's actions leading to Robby accidentally injuring him. Miguel had attacked Robby, choked him at one point, attacked him again, even purposely kicked him into the railing at one point, and then was going to break his arm for no reason at all. Of course, Miguel left all of this and his taunts to Robby out of his speech to the city council, portraying himself as only a victim in the fight.

He also talked about bullying as only being a victim of it, but completely disregarded his own past actions against Robby. Even trouncing the Miyagi-Do demonstration at Valley Fest had been an act of bullying, something Miguel had done to not just Robby but to Sam as well. Miguel had been proud of what he'd done, and then went back to trying to win Sam back soon afterwards. Miguel later implied to Robby that Miguel himself isn't an asshole, never acknowledging anything he'd done to hurt Robby. Whenever I watch Miguel's city council speech, I roll my eyes. I also find it so funny (in an ironic way) that both Kreese and Miguel spoke about themselves as well-intentioned heroes who believe that they're innocent and just do good in the world, yet they both cause and have caused so much hurt. They've given and continue to give people scars that can't be seen.

"You did it, Sensei!"

"No, WE did it!"

Miguel deflecting his culpability onto Johnny, despite Miguel's own intentions being to ruin the Miyagi-Do demonstration. He also deflected his culpability onto Johnny during the s1 avt and after the school fight.

Based on comments since s3 about Robby not having remorse about Miguel's injury or not feeling sorry for Johnny or not being understanding of Johnny abandoning him for Miguel or not agreeing with Daniel for not believing in him, some fans apparently believe that Robby isn't allowed to have emotions that don't suit what they want him to feel. It's not just Johnny that wants this from Robby. It's some fans too. Robby isn't allowed to put himself first, even when he is enduring traumas that these other characters inflict on him.

Also, where is Miguel's remorse? In s5, he still didn't have any remorse or take accountability. Instead he took his pound of flesh as if he had always been entitled to it. He's definitely acted that way since s1, before the school fight. Johnny has also just moved on and wants Robby to do the same and keep his negative emotions to himself or he's going to get abandoned again. Even Daniel just wanted Robby to accept what Daniel had done to him after the school fight without trying to understand Robby. All of this is consistent behavior by these characters even in s5.

Robby was the one eventually making things right with the others. The others didn't do anything to make things right with him. But some people still comment that Robby had no remorse. Or they only like Robby now that he took a beating from Miguel with Johnny's blessing, bowed his head in defeat, and is now expressing only the feelings that Johnny, Miguel, Daniel, and others want him to show.

Robby reluctantly agreeing that all is good now between him and Miguel to appease Johnny.

The other characters aside, some fans themselves don't want Robby to have emotions that make sense for what he's experiencing. He is given those emotions though. And the writers confirmed that those emotions are all still there and that things aren't resolved. Robby burying the egg to keep it safe during Chozen's lesson was a clear representation of how Robby keeps himself safe too: hiding who he really is by hiding his emotions to feel safe and accepted. The other kids also protected their eggs the way they handle situations too: Miguel is possessive/controlling, like he is in his relationships with Sam and Johnny; Sam thinks she's got things covered but isn't cautious enough, like when she didn't plan beyond having enough numbers for the arcade fight (she didn't consider that more Cobras might show up); Anthony gives in easily, like he did with his friends and bullied Kenny; Hawk is overconfident and doesn't consider that his opponent might do something unexpected, like he is later with Kenny during the trials; etc...

We have 5 seasons of Robby experiencing trauma after trauma. Robby's emotions due to his traumas have always been valid, but people dismiss his traumas and his emotions. The double standard in the fandom is also blatant. For example, Miguel pushes Johnny away and Johnny runs after him. People praise Johnny for being a "father" to Miguel. Robby pushes Johnny away and Johnny doesn't run after him. People excuse Johnny for this and blame Robby for pushing him away. Also, people praise Johnny running after Miguel to bring him home safe as Johnny showing "fatherly love" for Miguel, while people dismiss Johnny tricking, lying to, and gaslighting Robby to use him to get Miguel back as okay. Some even call it Johnny "trying" with Robby. The blatant contrast in how Johnny prioritizes Miguel and his emotions over Robby and his emotions is there for anyone to see throughout s5 as well. If people wanted to have empathy for Robby, they could choose to.

"There's nothing complicated about it. You had a choice and you chose."

(These are general thoughts and not directed at anyone in particular.)

(Note: Please don't reblog/reply with any dismissive comments/tags about the show writers, the writing, or the serious aspects of the show. Such comments/tags minimize the contents of the post. This blog (link) explains my general thoughts about posting after s5.)

#cobra kai is robby's story #robby keene

[hippielittlemetalhead]

So season 3. Let's do this!

This took so so so long and is not quite where/what I wanted it to be soooo... I am so sorry 😅🥲 this will most likely be 2 parts cause... Yeah, just life man.

Actually some dialogue in this one? Sure, a line or two, as a treat.

(Part1) (part2)

Steve had been working at Scoops Ahoy for a few weeks now and he feels like he's built a decent rapport with his coworker Robin. She's witty and snarky and opinionated and when Steve wears a more tinted lipgloss than he intended resulting in a customer clocking it and saying something rude that he can't help but smile his dead-eyed customer service smile at, she clocks out for her lunch early (and takes an extra 15 minutes) and comes back with a full face of makeup and shoos him into the back with the mascara she bought from the shop a couple stores over. They both start coming to work with at least mascara, eyeliner and lipstick and Steve loves it. He compliments the hand-drawn designs on her shoes and she asks where he got his rainbow heart pin. They mostly disagree on music they listen to -she still lets him drag her to a couple live music nights at The Hideout with him and Billy every now and then anyway- but their politics and basic life philosophies line up pretty well.

He could do without the 'You Rule / You Suck' board, especially when Billy gets in on it and adds tallies from a little notebook he starts keeping when he and Steve hang out outside of kids and work. And the jokes about his kids (and occasionally Billy) when they come through for free passage to the movies. And the jabs about his parents' money like he still has access to that or their house.

He doesn't tell her that he was cut off and disowned and kicked out. He doesn't tell her that he had to get a job to help pay for his community college courses because he was a disappointment that couldn't get into a pre-approved 4-year university and that meant no college fund and he was still a few years away from being 21 and having access to the trust fund his grandparents set up for him when he was still just a lump of forming cells. And even then anything in that will probably be blown on buying himself his own permanent place instead of just a hand-me-down trailer in the middle of the woods so he needs to save for things like bills and a mortgage.

He doesn't tell her that the reason he lets the kids get away with so much is because they're *his* and they've already seen more fucked up shit than the cops in this town (save Hop) and he'll be damned if they don't get to just be kids. He'll be damned if they decide he's someone they need to hide from and sneak around like they hide and sneak from Joyce and Hop cause that's how they didn't know about half the shit the kids got up to while the adults were doing their best to take care of things themselves. He doesn't tell her that he's paying "rent" to the chief of police (it's way less than he should be but it's all Hop would take).

He doesn't tell Robin a lot of things.

Then sometime after Robin finally warmed up to him but before Dustin comes back from camp, Eddie Munson walks into Scoops Ahoy, his metalhead nerdy entourage in tow. He orders a plain scoop of vanilla with sprinkles in a cup and one of the others also orders something small and simple (while longingly eyeing their diabetes-inducing, horribly artificial tasting, bubblegum flavor when Munson turns away) before all of them are squeezing into one of the largest booths, emptying out messenger bags and backpacks of overstuffed binders and scuffed up versions of very familiar looking textbooks. It's like looking at an older -slightly grungier- version of his kids.

"Gentlemen, now that 🎶school's out for summer🎶-" There's a musical lilt as he says it that sounds vaguely familiar to Steve, "-and it has been confirmed that I will in fact be held captive for yet another stint in the hell they call Hawkins High School it is time we confer and conspire for the next year of Hellfire and the little sheep that will be joining our flock." He kinda loses track of it after that because then his kids are rushing in demanding tasters of everything and edging towards the lifting part of the counter with a look in their eyes that speaks of mischief. He puts up the initial fuss about them only visiting him for his backrooms access and that they promised to only come over when there were no customers around. He lets them through anyway.

He notices Munson eyeing him as he puts the partition back in place shaking his head and Robin laughing at him as she washed their ice cream scoops. The one that's vaguely more familiar looking than the rest and reminds him of a taller, angrier, Dustin with a better hair regimen isn't quite glaring at him but is definitely paying more attention than the rest of Munson's posse and seems more suspicious than Eddie's curious.

The metalheads are still there when Billy shows up stinking of chlorine in clothes that are damp where they cling to his frame. The group loosens up a little when he shoots Steve his signature smug smirk as he shrugs on his denim jacket that -like Steve's own jacket hanging out of sight in the staffroom- had begun accumulating patches and pins since Neil's incarceration. Unlike Steve's, Billy's has homages to bands like Mötley Crue, Deff Leppard, Twisted Sister and Guns N' Roses with little trails of shakily embroidered flowers and constellations on the collar and hems and filling the spaces between the patches and pins. Billy also has a small pink triangle on the lapel where Steve has a rainbow. Steve pretends not to notice the way the group goes a little quiet as Billy starts his usual routine of sunnily demanding tasters of all the available flavors and then again with sprinkles to "-really get an idea of their ✨nuance✨, prettyboy" before deciding on a scoop of double chocolate with a scoop of raspberry vanilla in a cup with sprinkles and one of their fresh waffle cones on top. Like always.

"Really branching out there aren't ya, tough guy?" Steve keeps his face as stoney as possible but he can't help the humored edge to his voice.

Billy just winks at him running his tongue over his teeth as he gives Steve an exaggerated leer, "Gotta keep you on your toes, handsome." Robin fake gags and Steve laughs and Eddie Munson turns red as he stares at the two joking jocks. Billy goes quiet as he stares at his ice cream and Steve recognizes the look on his face, tells the blonde to go sit down in their usual booth and he'd be taking his break soon and they can talk about whatever's bothering him.

What's bothering him is Neill getting parole for 'good behavior', Jim only telling the Mayfield-Hargroves almost a week after he was let out because that was actually the same day he himself found out. Billy found out just before a summer basketball practice session and thinks he snapped at an underclassmen he's been trying to get to open up about what Billy is 90% certain is going on in the kid's home, but he knows that cops can't do much if the victim(s) refuse to trust in those trying to help them. He's worried about the kid he snapped at. Worried about Susan and Max. Worried that even with the restraining order Neill will try something. Billy tells Steve he had thought he saw Neill around the outskirts of town during errands or during his turn to haul the kids around a couple of times before Hop told them and now he's sure it wasn't just paranoia. Steve tells him they'll figure it out, reminds him he's not alone in this

That makes Billy smile, small and tired but real and grateful. His shoulders are still tense and there's still a wariness in the smallest crease between his eyebrows that makes Steve ask if there's anything else. They talk about some of the weird dreams Billy's been having that makes Steve encourage him to talk to El. Just to make sure Billy isn't going through what happened to Will the last alternate-dimension-go-around.

They make plans to head out to see the two Hoppers after Steve's shift. Come up with a basic timeline of when and where Billy thinks he saw Neil so they have something to start with for Hop. Put together an idea of how involved Billy wants to be in whatever plan Hop comes up with. They're interrupted by a group of girls swanning into the shop and Steve being yelled at by Robin to get himself back to work. As he gets up from the table Steve levels Billy with a look that makes the blond think about the way Max and the kids described Steve when they talked about how he fought off the pack of demodogs in the junkyard, planting himself between them and snarling snapping danger like Galahad himself.

Steve looks him in the eyes and says "I swear Billy, we're going to get through this, we'll take care of it and keep you and the girls safe. Hop knows what's going on and even Callahan can't get away with letting that piece of shit fall through the cracks after what he pulled." He leans in close and bites out probably louder than he should for the amount of people in the shop, "And if that fucker gets near any of you I've got Darling in Baby's trunk and I am not afraid to use her on a human shaped monster instead."

Author's (rambler's) Notes:

So, that's all I have for season 3 rn I am so sorry. 😭 I'm working on the next bit but I am so burnt out recently and now I'm unemployed cause of the ceiling at my job caving in which does not help the stress. So I unfortunately do not have a timeframe for you. 🥲 A couple of folks asked to be tagged so... Here you are? To be fair I'm not making any promises in regards to the taglist in the future, I will do my damnedest and y'all will have to bear with me.

I'm glad people are liking this and tbh this has gotten more attention than I expected so thanks? I appreciate the appreciation of my ramblings. Feel free to scream at/with me about this au in my asks box and I'll respond when/as I can. I'm just glad people are enjoying this. 🙃

@heartsong18

@knightofthieves

#punk!steve harrington #punk steve au #punk but make it preppy #punk!steve au #punk steve harrington #punk steve headcanons #stranger things thoughts #stranger things season 3 au #pre stobin #platonic soulmates stobin #i will die on this fucking hill #billy antis dni #not apologist #but billy hargrove deserves better #abuse victims deserve love and affection too #neil hargrove is his own warning #neil hargrove can fuck off #steve Harrington has shitty parents #bffs billy and steve #billy and the party #steve and the party #steve and the kids #eddie munson makes a minor appearance #Steve notices Eddie #Eddie notices Steve #bamf Steve Harrington #protective steve harrington #part 3 #rambler writes

[whatifwekilledgodandwebothgirls]

And another thing, harry potter had TERRIBLE world building . Im not talking about the " centuars are considered basically animals despite having sentience " im not talking about " the only jobs for wizards are wizard cop , teacher , and owner of fucked up little shop " . Im talking about how the magic system is built around unstackable magic .

See the way i personally belive that the most fun magic systems are the ones where you get increasingly powerful by stacking spells on top of eachother . For exapmle taking a simple spell about moving water and stacking a bunch of other more spesific spells on top to make it applicable to human blood or something . ALSO , the ones that are about stackable knowlage, ie getting more and more deep knowlage about a spesific subject so you can get better at it . In harry potter , they have SOME conplicated spells sure , but they require memorization to learn , not any real craftsmanship. Its just plain remembering words of a page , the mage cant make their own spells by being clever or by combining spells . It takes the complexity out of spell casting . FURTHERMORE even if you HAVE taken the time to learn all those cool spells , like hermione has , it still doesnt FUCKING matter . It doent matter . Harry potter , who knows like one spell , is still able to hold his grownd as much as her . I genuenly dont know why or how harry is a good wizard . Im geussing it has to do with like how magical a person in by nature? I cants pinpoint what skill exactly magic uses . ALSO the whole wands making you more powerful thing is kinda based but only if each character made their own wands. If you wanna make them go into little shops (which i applaud, its really cool ) you gotta make wands irrelevant .

NOW . EVEN IF I FORGOT ALL OF THIS , even if i forgot how bulshit the spells are , i cant give up on this one minor detail . There isnt a distinctive spell languge . All the spells are in this wierd latin english hybrid . Alright . Fine . Im ok with that , upset about it , but i will live . WHY in the abselute FUCK dont they TAKE LATIN CLASSES. WHY DONT THEY TEACH LATIN IN THE FUCKING SCHOOL . They had the most RANDOM fucking classes . Why dont the do latin , even just a single class . It bothers me increadebly much . They have time to learn how to handle animals , youre telling me they dont have time to learn THE LANGUGE THEIR SPELLS ARE WRITTEN IN ?

Anyway . War and hate on planet earth . All those big time hollywood writers should hire me to make their worlds more realistic . Her and gorge r r martin are two of the most annoying writers because they both could have had a very well writen series if they just didnt have their head so far up their ass to consider that MAYBE they should devout more than a single thought to their world building. Dont get me started on rr martins fucking plotand how he handles politics . Why cant writers just think

#harry potter #jk rowling

[evilminji]

Why Dont More BNHA SI-OCs end up Animals?

No, seriously, Nedzu is both terrifying and an INCREDIBLE asset.

If you were a Villian. An ends justify the means sort of bloke, as it were, why WOULDN'T you try and make another Nedzu? Sure, he promises terrible, terrible, blood soaked Vengeance, the likes of which sane men fear to contemplate and madmen shudder to behold, but? It's not like THEY'LL get caught!

They are VERY smart.

They have a plan!

Are you catching the sarcasm? Cause they sure are catching these Probably A Stoat Hands! And a tire iron! No survivors! *Nedzu's back up coughs awkwardly* Fine. SOME survivors! But he's still upset.

He dislikes Labs.

And think about it! Really, what is more likely? Some rando has? Two(2) SEPERATE Quirks? One of which not only kicked pre-birth, but is continual and very likely the ONLY THING keeping THAT PARTICULAR SOUL in that body. While the other is? *spins the wheel* Meh. We'll figure it out later.

Those are VERY different Quirks!

They would require VERY different secondary adaptations. Some of which might CONFLICT. Fatally no less. It would also be a rather notable quirk mutation, from their parents.

Possibly HEREDITARY.

Gonna have your OC grapple with the reality the not ONLY have a Chronic, Life Threatening, Quirk Reliant Medical Condition. That if the ever get arrested, falsely or not, they better PRAY those cops both notice and GIVE A SHIT about their medical bracelet... or that's it.

One pair of Quirk Suppressing Handcuffs.

Any medical grade Suppressant.

They'll die. Plain and simple. Dressed up in fancy medical jargon, their body will just... given out. Like a puppets who's strings are cut.

Oh, and it's HEREDITARY.

Because Quirks run in bloodlines. And once a mutation happens? It's here to stay! So her/his/their KIDS all stand the chance of being yoinked from another world. And their grandkids. Great grandkids. For however long it takes to shift into something else.

Here's a brochure on adoption.

You know, assuming you live that long.

Is it a great idea to explore? Fuck yeah! Am I gonna do it? Fuck no! So free to a good home I guess, just lemme read it! But!! You know what SIDE STEPS all this?

Quirked Animals!

Perfect for all you dub-... actually, let's not lie to ourselfs, WILDLY UNETHICAL scientific needs! You can splice in genes for intelligence Quirks! Maybe you'll get it right! Ballpark it! So what if loads of them die horrifically? Something, something, in the name of progress! They tell themselves.

Nedzu :) Violently :) Disagrees :)

But he ALSO! Only soooorta gives a shit about... like a small handful of humans. A fellow Quirked Animal? Who needs Schooling and legal Gaurdianship? A guide to the world of humans?

Not to MENTION? My Ace ass love the concept? Of abstracting attraction!

Because!

You are a Cat.

You are a Quirked Cat. You Quirk allows you sentience and memories of being human. Do you still find humans attractive? Or was that your human body? Do you find CATS attractive? They are animals. Your mind rebels. But? Were two images, drawn upon a wall, presented too you? Which would be desirable to you now?

Well groomed fur? A charming grin?

No one and nothing?

You are a Cat. A teenager. Around you, your peers speak of dates and crushes and dreams of marriage in some far off future day. You struggle to reach the seat of your desk, too see the board properly. You have nothing you can add to their conversations.

Clothing feels oppressive and wrong against your fur.

It feels worse to be naked.

You are a Cat.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @the-witchhunter @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @ailithnight @mutable-manifestation

#bnha #bnha prompt #bnha thoughts #minji's ponderings

[melloween-candie]

Teen pregnancy [P.7]

A Carl Gallagher x Fem Reader fic

Summary

You only started dating Carl for about 2 months. That was right around the time when he and Dom broke up. Deep down, you knew you couldn't compete with her. He would always choose her before you. Yet you were only 16 years old when you discovered he got you pregnant. This news terrified you so much. You didn't want to lose him, and you knew he was already going through so much shit stuff with his family and his "business." Better yet, you were scared about how your family would react, let alone his. At least you have Debbie, your best friend, who's also pregnant with you.

Warning! foul language, depression, teen pregnancy, misunderstanding, violence, destruction of property

Note! If any of that makes you uncomfortable- DON'T READ THE STORY!

Word count: 366

[Angst/Fluff]

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, PART 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 (Completed)

Shameless Masterlist

Fandom Masterlists

/"Talking"//Thinking//Muttering-Whispering/

Time Skip!~

***Y/n's Pov***

"AHHH!" You screamed as loud as you could out of frustration. "THIS ISN'T FAIR! I mean, She CHEATED ON HIM for FU*K SAKE!"

Your eyes began to tear up as you paced back and forth. You and Debbie were outside. Debbie was sitting on a swing with a sad expression as she listened to you vent.

"Like I'm fu*king pregnant WITH HIS CHILD, and he STILL leaves ME FOR HERRRR-hic! HE CHEATS ON ME WITH HERRR-sniff! I was always there for HIM! I always loved him! SO WHY...hic- why." You started crying badly by the end. All Debbie could do was hug you as you started hiccupping. "Why-hic- can't I be good enough for him?"

_Rewind_

***Carl's Pov***

I didn't realize Y/n and Debbie had left until I sat down. I would have sat with them, but I wanted to know more about this situation. I know it sounds plain and simple, but I feel like there's more to this... issue. There has to be...

"Oh yeah. I almost forgot to tell you; my dad wants to talk to you after school."

"What? Why!"

"My dad knows I'm carrying."

WHAT SHE TOLD HIM! OH, GOD, IM DEAD!!!

"He wants to have a 'family meeting'." She quoted family meeting as if it was going to be civil! "He's going to pick us both up after school."

_End of rewind_

Time skip!~

***Debbie's Pov***

It was the end of the school day. As I was about to walk home, I heard a cop car siren blaring. I turned around in towards the direction of the noise only to find a crazy cop car driving off the road... He parked on the curb.

I ran up closer to see what was going on.

"WHERE THE HE*L IS-" The cop slammed his car door. "CARL GALLAGHER!"

I should have known...

Then Dominique ran up to him. "Daddy! You can't do that! You could have killed someone!"

"No one's hurt." He said. "Not yet, at least. Now, where's Carl?"

"You scared him off." She said.

At that point, the conversation started boring me, but it did make me wonder why Carl has been acting all weird now.

#shameless #carl gallagher x reader #fanfiction #drama #teenager pregnancy #teenager romance #high school au #angry dad #cops #depression #violence #misunderstanding #angst #fluff

[mrvlbimbo]

Hii !! Your eddie x gf with big boobs headcanons got me obsessed and I can’t stop thinking about (maybe even being self indulgent) eddie with a fat gf, like i JUST KNOW he’d be insufferable, he’d brag about her to EVERYONE he knows !!!

Not to overshare on my first ask skskkss but whenever i see headcanons like that it feels very targeted at skinny reader with big tits, so i always feel a little :/ after reading them and yours was NOT the case, i really liked ur writing :3

YES OMG as someone who grew up on Wattpad in the not-like-other-girls! Reader dates One Direction days Ik exactly what u mean. (That was oddly specific but y’all know exactly what I’m talking abt)

Sometimes I feel like writers go out of their way to over describe physical details for no reason and it makes the story less accessible. I try not to do that (plus I write very self indulgently and I’m not skinny so)

ANYWAYS there’s my rant now here’s the good stuff!

Eddie likes big girls, plain and simple. Just the way it is. This is true this is a fact.

Hips, ass, thighs, boobs, stomache the more there is the more he has to love.

And oh boy does he love it. He’s such a cuddler and you’re just so soft. He wants to hold you, he wants to be held and he wants it all the time.

He’s FUCKing handsy too, always trying to cop a feel and when u call him out for it he’s like “what? My girls got a rockin hot bod. Let me appreciate it”

When he lets you wear his hellfire shirt (anytime you ask) it’s a little tight and he’s just drooling because he can see the outline of your boobs. Let’s just say, it never stays on for long.

He’s so obsessed with you, telling his friends about you all the time and showing you off whenever you’re in public. He would want people looking at you so they know you’re his but at the same time he doesn’t want people looking at you because you’re his.

And god forbid anyone tries to give you shit because he will beat them up so fast. Like he’s not a violent guy but one bad word about you and fists are flying.

Bonus points, you get to patch him up after the fight and give him a little reward. (The reward is a blowjob)

#eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #eddie munson

[pure-oddity]

Hey! It's murder time :3

(Also not proofread, if i stare at something too long I'll just never do anything with it.)

Pt.1 Part.2

Butcher/slasher ghost au: Part 3

He's known as the reaper - he thinks it's a bit on the nose but who's he gonna complain to??

Outfit is simple, a lot of it comes from his time in the SAS - skull mask included.

His goal is to clean, plain and simple. He doesn't want to walk side by side with some bottom feeding murders, doesn't want to risk serving perfectly good meat to abusers. The idea makes his skin crawl.

Considers his work just, has little faith in the justice system - the cops here have been...less than efficient in his eyes. Unwilling to go as far as needed, constrained by the law (or worse, they show sympathy to the pathetic things and let them off easy). So Simon takes things into his own hands.

The only part of the whole experience that he MIGHT feel some guilt for enjoying. Is the fear of those he hunts. Because isn't it so ironic, to spend your life terrorizing others only to die scared, confused, alone and in agony at the hands of someone larger and stronger than you? The irony certainly isn't lost on simon, and he gets a little thrill out of it.

Considers the whole thing his ghost time, because it's not all that dissimilar to what he was doing in the military right? Taking out the bad to protect the good, getting dirty so the world stays clean. He's got a few less resources sure, less hands - but he makes due. He dons his old husk, and cleans up his little corner of the world.

It starts with a jerk at a pub. He's people watching again, nursing a glass of bourbon in a shadowy corner - trying to observe and adapt behaviors he think will help him settle in better. A man walks in, simon notes he looks agitated but also - excited? Watches him walk to a group of girls, previously abuzz with excitement chatting away. He watches the life be sucked from the whole table as the man approaches, watches as he leans towards one of them hand on her arm in a grip that he knows is meant to hurt. Watches as her demeanor changes to something more reserved and afraid and Simon can't take it - seen all he's needed to. Walks over silently, every bit the predator he knows to be.

was just gonna intimidate the guy a bit, send him running off tail tucked between his legs - see if maybe he could charm the poor girls into settling down and enjoying themselves again (maybe even on the sly recommend a womans domestic abuse shelter for the poor victim).

But then he sees how much the fucker is enjoying this. Enjoying the poor girls fear, enjoying ruining their night and ending their harmless fun. Enjoys hurting the poor woman and, well.

Simon only stops when the man passes out from pain. Face a bruised and swollen lump, nose shattered and blood dripping everywhere - maybe missing a few teeth. Simon grabs the guys shirt and uses it like a cloth, cleaning the reminents off his hands. Spares a glance at the girls, is unsupervised to see them afraid - but still saddened by it. He tips his head at the main victim, then makes his way outside to wait for the police. He lights a cigarette, leant against the wall of the building and glances to the side as he puffs a cloud of smoke when he hears the door chime again. It's the main woman and he nearly chokes. She's trembling and her eyes well with tears, and she places a tiny palm on his bicep.

If she feels his body jolt she doesn't say anything and her hand remains there - a burning itching feeling barely blocked out by his hoodies sleeve. How he loves and loathes it at the same time.

She thanks him for what he did, and while he doesn't ask questions, she offers answers anyway. Said that she'd left him ages ago - went to a lot of trouble running from him, uprooted her whole life and moved cities over when she realized the police wouldn't do anything. Only for the bastard to find her again. Says that while what Simon did was terrifying, she's grateful that he stepped in. Scared to imagine what the fucker would have done had he managed to get her out of the building.

It makes Simon want to hit him again, but he refrains. Instead he pulls as much softness and care from his soul that he can - tells her that it's okay and he'd do it again. That no one should be treated like that, that she didn't deserve to have her life messed with like that. And that with how thorough he was with that man's face, there's a good chance he won't so much as look at another woman again.

She smiles at him. His heart near bursts. Tells him that's what she's hoping for - but is ready to run if things go belly up anyway. Pats his arm and makes her way inside, content to wait in the warmth as the police finally arrive on the scene.

Everyone is questioned, the man is brought to a hospital and Simon is free to go after some questioning. The girls from the table all having jumped to his defense, and apparently the bottom feeder threw the first punch? Simon doesn't remember the hit really, but sure.

The idea that the scumbag could come out of the hospital with a vengeance worries simon, because it makes sense. Embarrassed and in pain, all those feelings likely to be taken out on the poor girl.

Pulls some connections. The fucker gets sent to prison - drug charges or something, not really concerned with the why - and it's still not enough for Simon.

Watches for news of his release obsessively, makes it so he'll be one of the first to know of the fucker is so much as considered for early release.

And a month later (what a fucking joke) when the day comes and Simon catches wind that he's going after the poor girl again? Simon takes care of it.

And it just continues on from there.

Watches someone beat on a defenseless animal? Body found 3 days later. Animal is given to a loving home

Catches an attacker stabbing some random victim? The body is found within hours - victim wakes in the hospital and has no recollection of how they got there or who saved them.

Sees a guy spike a drink? The guys found dead a day later (and the bodies of the ones who were making and selling the drugs haven't yet been found)

But the world isn't so black and white. There's a lot of grey.

The animal abuser had previous animal abuse charges attached to his name, yet he still got ahold of an animal. The shelter or breeder who did this is just as responsible for not double checking who they were giving pets to.

Considers those bystanders just as bad and deserving of punishment. Thinks of all the harm that could have been avoided had people just done the bare minimum.

The mugger had been arrested and released more than once, making the police responsible for not doing something to prevent this.

And the drugger, did this at the bar - multiple people sitting on either side of him, every chair full, and no one saw anything? The bartender, a few feet away didn't think to stop it? It makes simon just so fuckin mad.

And thus the reaper is born.

#simon riley au #simon ghost riley #butcher simon #slasher simon #or serial killer?? #i def need to do research into the terms #like is there a difference? #regardless the man is murdering #odd blurbs