#putting the actual meat of this post in the tags as always but saw a s6 gif where they hold up the women's magazine and laugh at dean for

[cockworkangels]

sometimes supernatural homophobia is so absurd it becomes funny like they literally called dean gay for basically having a wife and a kid???? like is it gay to live in the suburbs with your girlfriend and her son????

#like it's the ultimate dream to leave hunting and settle into the white middle class family life but then when you actually get the thing #they've been praising and idolising so much suddenly you're gay and unmanly for not being a hunter #putting the actual meat of this post in the tags as always but saw a s6 gif where they hold up the women's magazine and laugh at dean for #having it in his house where he lives. with a woman #da.post #spn

[ohdeerfully]

Requests? I got you 😌

Reader who made a deal with Alastor, be his informant, and he'll provide aid when needed. And reader was damn good at holding up their end of the deal, while Alastor hasn't really needed to uphold his since aid hasn't been asked for.

So what might happen when his dear little informant hasn't came back from gathering info on the Vee's?

EATING IT UP idk i love this kind of stuff thank you so much. im making this a two-parter! it was getting kinda long and i wanted to get something posted (:

Your Half of the Deal (i)

Alastor x Reader part i part ii part iii TW: kidnapping, cursing, alastor is manipulative (per usual), alastor is in denial if you want to be tagged in the next part, let me know! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══

Deals with Alastor were, for a lack of better words, a big deal. Not something to mess around with. His twisted nature allowed him to create so many loopholes for himself, forcing one to do more than what they bargained him for. It was unfair, but that’s what happens when you make a deal with the Radio Demon.

You weren’t as lucky as the other demons at the hotel, not receiving the typical advice Vaggie debriefed any newcomer. Alastor got to you first. He got you soon after you fell into Hell, before you even knew exactly what was going on or the whole ‘soul’ thing. 

“My,” A light voice cooed from the shadows, causing you to jerk your head up. Your ass still stung from the tumble you took after falling down into god knows where. You were curled up in a dark, moldy corner, a brief respite from all the freaks that you kept running into. Your fingers–no, claws?--still aches after defending yourself from a pair of spiked thugs.

“What a poor sight. How dreadful!” He continued. You could barely make out the form of the speaker. You just knew he was tall. With blazing red eyes. His voice had a radio-like filter over it, with a general low frequency humming around himself during the silence.

He had seen you, a new fallen demon, fight yourself away from those two earlier, a wild look in your eye. How it pleased him, seeing that look somebody gets when they are desperate for their life. But you, in particular, piqued his interest. To be able to acclimate to a new body, in a new place, and fight for your life at the drop of your hat.

You seemed capable, and he liked that. He knew you were naive, fresh meat always was. And he liked that.

You had yet to speak, only looking up at him from your fetal position. But he could tell you were tense and ready to spring, if need be. He played a grin on his face and leaned down closer to you.

“Oh, how rude of me! I’m Alastor,” He held his hand out to you from his bent over position. You shook his hand cautiously. “I saw that scuffle earlier, and dear if I may say, you fight like a wild tigress.” 

You quirked your brow at this comment. “Thanks,” You replied plainly. “(Y/N).” You didn’t want to talk right now. But, you were at least glad to see a face that didn’t immediately go through your throat. 

Alastor, of course, didn’t go after those of the ‘fairer means,’ as he would put it. At least, not in a violent way. He was all for the typical manipulation.

“Even still, a fair lady such as yourself needs someone to protect her! And,” He stood up straight again, a dangerous glint in your eye. “For a price, I could be at your beck and call.”

“A price..?” You responded weakly. You had to admit, seeing this tall, confident man in front of you did seem to put you at ease. He seemed kind. And it wouldn’t hurt to have some help, if there were more creatures wanting to attack you.

“Your soul!” He said, all too cheerfully. Your mouth dried up at this. With everything that has happened to you so far, you had a hunch that the term ‘soul’ actually carried meaning in this place. But, how much..? Was it worth the protection he promised?

“More like a mutual contract, really! Mutual benefactors!” Alastor lied, seeing that hesitance in your expression. “I get your soul, you do what I ask, and I protect you! Simple enough.” 

The expression he held, with that tall grin of his, didn’t do much to calm your nerves. As chipper as he seemed, there was something to it. Something more, but you couldn’t quite tell.

“Deal?”

His glowing eyes seemed to darken as he squinted them in anticipation, his smile somehow growing wider. The static in the air seemed to crackle with more energy, almost violently, as you considered his hand that he had held out. There was an ominous aura that made your skin crawl.

Ah, what the hell. Flashes of those thugs from earlier was enough to put you on your feet. You could only imagine the other shit that lived in this place, and had a feeling they were the bottom of the barrel. You had only just managed to get away from them.

You made eye contact for a couple of seconds, the prickling sensation on your skin becoming harsher and more aggravating the closer you stepped to him. You grabbed his hand.

You were thinking about your unlucky situation–which you often did in your free time–as you gave yourself a onceover in the mirror, black eyes examining your tight outfit. A little spy getup–a little stereotypical, something you would definitely see in the movies. But, hey, it never failed you.

Thinking back, you could tell now that his words and smile were filled with deceit and manipulation. You often got pissed at yourself for how naive you were. You hadn’t even called on him once since then, and you’ve been stuck as his little pet for nearly four months now. He runs you around like a doll in a big playhouse, sending you this way and that to get intellect from his various enemies.

“I’m much too popular to be roaming in those areas!” He had claimed when you questioned why he, the Radio Demon, couldn’t just do it himself. “Demons flee at the sight of me. The Vee’s would see me from a mile away.” You had a suspicion that he just didn’t want to be seen in public making such a petty fuss over his television rival.

There was no point in dwelling on it, but you couldn’t help the occasional feeling of regret that twinged your chest when you thought too long. You were stuck as his, whether you liked it or not. 

Slicking back your hair, you finalized your sleek outfit. Another day of being thrown into precarious situations by that red asshole. It was becoming a weekly thing, with Alastor requesting more and more information, especially from those Vee’s he hated so much. In fact, now that you thought about it, they were the only demons you snuck by. How obsessed they were with each other.

It was no easy task, getting through the security of that place. In fact, it was nearly impossible, seemingly getting harder every time. You had a cautious feeling that they knew what you were up to, and kept falling short of catching or stopping you. There were cameras pointed in every direction, every angle, in the highest quality imaginable. Every trip left your heart racing with adrenaline.

“On your way now, are you?” Alastor asked coyly. He waited for you at the entrance to the hotel, a glint in his eyes. Oh, how he loved playing with you like this. Watching you bend and break for him. He loved it. And you hated him for it.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll get killed this time,” You said snidely, referencing the increasing danger of each trip. “Wouldn’t that be a treat for me.” You said this in a whisper, but Alastor still heard.

He bent at the waist to be eye level with you, that sinister grin of his lowering slightly. It seemed he had wanted to say something, his teeth parting for a moment before closing again. His grin perked back up and he straightened himself into a stand. He simply reached out and patted your head.

“Now, don’t go out with that kind of mindset! Why, you know our deal!” His lips curled in reference to the rather one-sided promise you made each other. To be honest, considering you never had to call for Alastor’s aid, you weren’t even comforted by the notion. Who’s to say he even shows up? How will he even know if you need help?

Alastor stepped towards you, his hands flapping as he shooed you out of the door. “The night is only so long! Go along!”

So, now you’re here. Tucked behind a corner near the Vee’s residence. There were cameras everywhere, obviously, and you swore you saw more than last time. What point does Alastor even have, making you come here so often? What more could he want? You knew him and Vox were rivals, but it wasn’t like Alastor didn’t know how to take care of the TV-head.

You had a sick feeling that Alastor just enjoyed making you do bullshit for him like this, and didn’t care much for the actual information. The thought drew a sneer on your face. If you weren’t literally soul bound to this guy, you would probably just let yourself get caught and likely killed on the spot. But, of course, your deal made that dream impossible. 

With a couple hops on your toes, you began your brisk walk towards the back of the manor. You were hyper aware of all the cameras, and hoped that your dark outfit helped blend with the shadows. 

However, the second you lifted a window and stepped foot into the building, lights flashed and an alarm rang. Fuck.

The television demon himself got to you surprisingly fast. As if he had been waiting. Which, honestly, wouldn’t have surprised you. You briefly wondered why it took them so long to have an alarm system in the first place, and began frantically looking for a way out. The window behind you had shut and locked. The hallway was incredibly narrow and Vox stood in the way.

Fuck it, you made a mad dash for the Overlord, hoping to catch him off guard. You raised a clawed hand and swiped at his television head. A pointless attack, you realize, as the screen nearly flickered for a moment; his wide, pixelated grin staring into you. Before you could move again, his arm tightly gripped at your throat. You felt an electrifying sensation, stinging through every nerve, and blacked out.

“Heyy, Al?” Charlie’s voice rang through the doorway of Alastor’s radio tower. “Have you seen (Y/N)..? She was supposed to help with some decorations.” She had opened the door without warning.

He paced back and forth in thought, gripping the top of his cane with one hand and tapping the end of it in his other. He didn’t respond to Charlie, but the question did ring in his head over and over. You hadn’t come back from the night before. You always came back before the day broke.

He didn’t know the feeling that stirred in his chest as he watched the minutes pass by. The hours pass by. All without a sight of you. He never thought to keep watch as you worked, refraining from sending his shadow to spy on the spy, as he always saw you as capable enough. 

Besides, he thought to himself. What a waste of my time that would be. Fretting over a single demon.

“Alastor,” Charlie said again. He craned his neck to her, stopping his train of thought. His grin had a strain to it and his nose wrinkled in aggravation. Why was she in his space? He hated intrusions.

“What?” He said bluntly.

“(Y/N)?” She spoke your name again, hoping to prompt some conversation out of the Radio demon with the implied question.

Alastor composed himself, acting unphased by the… worry? That he felt. “Why would I know where she is? I take care of this hotel, but not so much the residents.” It was a true enough statement, as he preferred just watching the demons Charlie try desperately to rehabilitate and fail miserably every day. 

“Now, if you don’t mind,” He interrupted Charlie before she could say anything, her mouth hanging open and words dying on her tongue. He briskly turned on his feet and walked towards her, standing at the doorway. “I would prefer you knock next time.” He shut the door on her.

He couldn’t handle the heavy feeling that threatened his lungs as he thought about what was happening at the Vee’s residence. 

Did he really care to go out, risk a scene, risk the intel, just to get you? To make sure you were okay?

Yeah. He had to. He hated that feeling in his chest, especially as it just grew heavier and more overwhelming. He just chalked it up to the deal he had made with you putting a pressure on his own soul to hurry up and deal with it. But he couldn’t help the tightness that consumed him when he thought about what you were doing in that place. Or what they were doing to you. He brushed the emotion aside, trying his best to ignore it.

He argued with himself that yeah, he was only going because of that deal he had made. No, no way did he have a soft spot for you. No way in Hell. He was just doing this to hold up his deal. Yeah.

With a heavy sigh and a twitch at the corners of his lips, he brushed his talon-like fingers through the fringe of his hair, pushing it back before letting it fall into place again. He tried to maintain a leisurely composure, but a wild glint in his eye was proof enough that he was stressed out.

Best to get this over with. He had a deal to uphold. He opted for the faster route, melting into his shadow.

part ii part iii

#alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #tw: kidnapping #kidnapping #alastor doesnt realize he Feels stuff

[kmomof4]

Combining a Fic A Versary and Self-Promo Sunday!!

One year ago today, I posted A Christmas Surprise, to this day probably the cutest thing I’ve ever written. And since the anniversary fell on Sunday, I wanted to make doubly sure I highlighted it today! I dearly love this fic and I hope you all enjoy it, whether you’re reading it for the first time or not! And no matter how many times you’ve read it, I hope you let me know what you think!

Original prompt was from @gingerpolyglot​: I’d love to see a CS fic where someone returns from deployment and surprises their family like on those YouTube videos that always bring me to tears.

On ao3

Rating: G

Words: 2500

Tags: Christmas Fluff, Return from Deployment, YouTube Reunions

Tagging the usuals. Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed.

@hollyethecurious​ @winterbaby89​ @snowbellewells​ @stahlop​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @jennjenn615​ @kingofmyheart14​ @profdanglaisstuff​ @branlovestowrite​ @thisonesatellite​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @flslp87​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​ @let-it-raines​ @shireness-says​ @kymbersmith-90​ @darkcolinodonorgasm​ @bethacaciakay​ @searchingwardrobes​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​ @teamhook​ @aprilqueen84​ @qualitycoffeethings​ @superchocovian​ @artistic-writer​ @donteattheappleshook​ @doodlelolly0910​ @seriouslyhooked​ @tiganasummertree​ @lfh1226-linda​ @xsajx​ @klynn-stormz​ @jrob64​ @wefoundloveunderthelight​ @zaharadessert​ @elizabeethan​ @goforlaunchcee​ @gingerpolyglot​ @allons-y-to-hogwarts-713​ @sailtoafarawayland​ @justanother-unluckysoul​ @veryverynotgoodwrites​ @jonesfandomfanatic​ @deckerstarblanche​ @the-darkdragonfly​ @batana54​ @purplehawkcaptain​ @k-leemac​ @motherkatereloyshipper​ @apiratewhopines​ @killiansqueenofthejollyroger​ @onceuponahookandswan​ @meat-pie-with-sauce​ @cosette141​ @pirateprincessofpizza​ @xarandomdreamx​ @fleurdepetite​ @hookmecaptain​ @o-wild-west-wind​

Under the cut, unless Tumblr ate it.

“Emma!” her co-worker and Henry’s 4th grade teacher, Elsa exclaimed, rushing to where Emma kneeled on the stage cutting out the last of the costumes she had to get made for the school Christmas program this coming Friday. Emma was cutting it close, no pun intended, but Violet’s mom had gone into preterm labor over the weekend and was put on bed rest so wasn’t going to be able to make her daughter’s costume for the pageant, hence Emma working late today to get started on it.

“What?” she replied, raising up to sit on her haunches and blowing at a strand of hair that escaped her braid.

“Killian’s gonna be home Friday,” Elsa enthused, “and you have to help us figure out a way for him to surprise Alice. You know, like on those YouTube videos.”

Emma grinned with delight. “Oh, that is a fantastic idea!” she agreed. Alice Jones was one of her second grade students. This was only Emma’s second year teaching at the tiny private school, so she’d never actually met Killian, since he and Alice lived in Boston. But when he had deployed last spring, she’d come to live with her cousins, Aunt Elsa and Uncle Liam, Killian’s brother and sister-in-law. Emma had heard lots about him from Elsa since then and was looking forward to meeting the father of one of her favorite students.

She looked around the stage at the various pieces of set and props scattered around, racking her brain for a way to surprise Alice.

“Oooo!” she exclaimed, eyes going wide, “How about this? Killian can hide in one of the presents for the last scene, since Alice is singing the solo, and at the opportune time,” she smirked slyly as a grin blossomed on Elsa’s face, “he comes out. She’s been doing so beautifully in rehearsals.” Emma placed her hand on her heart as tears threatened to fill her eyes. “Can you imagine how happy Alice is gonna be?”

Elsa’s eyes did fill with tears as she imagined her niece’s face when she saw her Papa for the first time in nine months. She and Liam were of course happy to care for Alice when Killian was gone, and their boys loved having their younger cousin live with them, but him being gone for so many months at a time wore on the little girl in a way that hurt Elsa’s heart. Friday couldn’t come soon enough.

~*~*~

The week passed quickly, more quickly than Emma would have liked actually. She loved this time of year, but the late nights of rehearsals, sewing, and taking care of numerous loose ends for the pageant, not to mention the anticipation of Alice’s surprise, had made it impossible for her to really enjoy it. She felt like a chicken with its head cut off, running in circles and getting nowhere. But Friday had finally arrived, filled with the obligatory parties all the classes held on the last day before their Christmas break.

Once school let out and all the elementary kids were ushered to the playground to burn off the excess energy and excitement the day engendered, Emma and Elsa met Killian at the front door of the school.

“Killian,” Elsa cried, launching herself into her brother-in-law’s arms. His laughter joined hers as he spun her around in a tight hug before setting her down again. Liam came around from the driver’s side of the car with a wide grin on his face, so happy to have his brother back home again.

Emma was dumbfounded. The man was gorgeous. He was tall with slightly mussed dark brown hair and wore a navy blue peacoat against the December cold. She snapped her mouth shut when she caught Elsa’s smirk.

“Killian,” she began, “this is Alice’s teacher, Emma Swan. Emma, Captain Killian Jones of the United States Navy.”

Emma blushed as Killian’s mouth dropped open for a moment before closing it again as he scratched behind his ear bashfully.

“It… it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Swan,” Killian stammered, his ears turning red.

“Oh, no,” she quickly corrected him, “It’s Miss.” She held out her hand for him to shake and was surprised when, instead of shaking it, he lifted it and brushed her knuckles with his lips. She looked over at Elsa. The woman had one hand over her heart and the other partially covering her mouth as she watched Killian with a look of hopeful wonderment that Emma was gonna have to ask her about later.

“Miss Swan,” he echoed, with a soft smile.

“But you can call me Emma,” she offered with a smile that matched his. His blue eyes sparkled in the afternoon sun and Emma had to catch her breath.

“I think I’ve told you about Henry, Killian,” Elsa interjected, breaking the moment between them. They both turned toward her, slightly startled. Emma had nearly forgotten they weren’t alone.

“Ah, yes,” Killian agreed. “The boy that wants to be a writer?”

Elsa nodded and Emma could feel her cheeks heating up. “Henry is Emma’s son.”

Killian grinned as he looked back at Emma. “Elsa has told me so much about him. The stories he writes for his assignments are so imaginative. And she also tells me about how good he is with my Alice.”

Emma blushed harder. “He has a protective streak a mile wide. Always looking for kids who need a friend. We’re relatively new here too, so when Alice enrolled last spring, he wanted to make sure she felt welcome.”

“I appreciate it so much,” he replied. “Alice tends to be shy and for an older child to take her under his wing like that and be her friend when she didn’t know anyone at the school besides her aunt and cousins,” he put his hand over his heart, “it really means a lot.”

“But we need to get you inside before the kids come back in.” Elsa looped her arm through Killian’s and with a smile at her husband, led them all inside the building. Since the school was so small, only one classroom for each grade, the cafeteria also served as their auditorium. So they had to get Killian hidden in one of the large presents that would serve as part of the set before the kids came inside for their catered dinner before they got into costume for the program.

Emma explained her idea to Killian as Elsa led the way up onto the stage. There on the edge was a six foot square box wrapped with white paper with huge silver snowflakes on it. A huge, sparkly red bow graced the front. The side came off so Killian could easily get in and out of it to surprise Alice when she finished her solo as the finale of the program this evening.

“I’ll bring you a plate so you won’t starve waiting for things to get started,” Emma promised him as she opened the box.

With a final smile at her, Elsa, and Liam, Killian moved into place and Emma shut him in.

~*~*~

Emma sat down next to Elsa and Liam with her own meal after surreptitiously delivering the same to Killian. The noise level in the auditorium was only a moderate roar, which given the excitement surrounding Christmas break and the program that evening was a blessing Emma wouldn’t take for granted. Once she was seated, she took a deep breath and tried to bring her heart rate down to normal. Seeing the breathtakingly handsome man again had sent her pulse fluttering and spread heat across her cheeks that she hoped her friend and her husband wouldn’t notice. That hope was futile apparently, as her eyes met Elsa’s smug smirk.

“You get Killian his dinner?” she asked.

“Yes,” she replied, her cheeks warming up even more than they already were.

She cut her gaze away from Elsa only to be met with Liam’s laughing blue eyes. They were so filled with joyful affection that Emma couldn’t help but smile widely back at him.

“Good,” he said. “I’m so glad he’s home. This was his last deployment, supposedly. He’s eligible to retire in May and I hope he does and moves here. I mean, Boston isn’t terribly far, but it’d be so nice to have him here all the time. The boys and Alice can grow up together, Alice can stay here at the school, and maybe,” here Liam waggled his eyebrows at her suggestively making her cheeks flame again, “Killian can find that happiness he’s been missing since Milah passed.”

“Milah was Alice’s mother?” Emma asked.

“Yes,” Elsa answered. “She was killed in a car accident when Alice was just a baby. Killian hasn’t looked twice at a woman since. Always said he had enough on his plate with his career and raising Alice alone. So when he kissed your hand earlier, I couldn’t help but hope…”

Emma nodded her understanding. “Well, I can’t say I’d be reluctant,” she admitted, biting her lower lip and cutting her eyes away from their perceptive gazes.

Elsa took her hand and a genuine smile broke over her lips.

“Good.”

~*~*~

The program was wonderful. Each class performed a short holiday skit for the audience filled with parents, grandparents, and friends. The upper grades combined to perform the Christmas story as recorded in the Bible. Finally the last scene of the pageant arrived. All the other pieces of scenery and props were moved off the stage and the giant Christmas tree that stood at the back of the stage was pushed forward, until there was hardly any room for the combined choirs to stand in front of it. Once all the kids were in place, the audience joined them in a rousing sing-along of favorite Christmas songs and carols.

When the sing-along was over, Alice Jones looked over at her teacher with anxious eyes. Her heart hammered in her chest until Miss Swan gave her a gentle and encouraging smile and nodded her head toward the microphone in the middle of the stage. Taking a deep breath, Alice stepped down off the risers and approached the microphone.

She looked out at the darkened auditorium and remembered what Miss Swan had told her. Everyone out there was rooting for her, even if she couldn’t see them, and since she couldn’t see them, it would be easy to pretend they weren’t there and simply sing. Sing for her, and sing for her Papa.

The opening bars of I’ll Be Home for Christmas floated out of the darkness and Alice began to sing.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents by the tree.

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams.

I’ll be home for Christmas

If only in my dreams.

Alice stopped for the bridge and looked to the edge of the stage where her Aunt Elsa stood with a proud smile on her face. Alice smiled then turned back to the audience to sing the second verse.

I’ll be home for Christmas.

You can count on me.

Suddenly a wave of emotion came over Alice and she let out a little hiccupping sob as thoughts of her Papa filled her mind. Her eyes filled with tears as she sang the last line of the stanza.

Please have snow and mistletoe

And presents by the tree.

She let out a louder sob as her tears started to fall and turned to Miss Swan. She was so afraid she was gonna be in trouble for crying in the middle of her song, but she missed her Papa so much and there was nothing she wanted more than for him to come home for Christmas. Miss Swan was hurrying across the stage to her when a strong baritone picked up the song where she left off.

Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams.

Alice turned confused eyes to her teacher and then to her aunt, both of whose own eyes were filled with tears. Miss Swan pointed to the other side of the stage with a watery smile, drawing Alice’s attention to the huge present that was part of the scenery on the very edge of the stage.

There, in front of the present, stood her Papa! Alice’s jaw dropped and she could hear Miss Swan let out a giggle.

“Papa,” she hollered, pulling herself free from Miss Swan’s embrace and running toward him. He was laughing when she reached him and leapt into his waiting arms. He spun her around in a circle, holding her close and calling her starfish, before peppering her face with kisses- the loud smacking kind that made her giggle and would usually prompt her to wiggle away from him. But not this time. This time, her Papa was home and he could kiss her as much as he wanted.

Emma watched the reunion between father and daughter and could no longer hold her tears at bay. The lights had come up in the auditorium when it became apparent that the song would not be continued and when she looked out at the audience, she didn’t see a dry eye in the house. The school was so small and with Elsa being one of the teachers, everyone knew Alice and her circumstances so they were just as thrilled as Emma at bearing witness to their reunion.

After giving them a few moments, Emma and Elsa turned to their boys on the risers and motioned them all down before they approached Killian and Alice. Killian put Alice back down on the stage before gathering his twin nephews, Liam Jr. and Colin, in his arms for another enthusiastic greeting. Alice turned and spotting Henry, a huge grin split her face as she reached her hand out and pulled him over to meet her Papa. Emma’s heart melted as Killian held his hand out to shake Henry’s and expressed the same sentiments to him that he had shared with her earlier. Henry blushed at the praise and attention before mumbling it was his pleasure.

Then it was Killian’s turn to blush as he scratched behind his ear and approached Emma, Alice’s arms wrapped around his waist.

“Thank you so much for this, Emma.” He looked down at his daughter and Emma’s heart wanted to burst at the love and happiness she saw in his gaze. “I truly can’t tell you what it means to me.”

“I was happy to do it, Killian,” she replied.

His head dipped and his cheeks heated as he scratched behind his ear. “Could I… uh, would you mind if…” he stammered before he finally looked back up at her. “Would you like to get a cup of coffee sometime?” Emma looked down at Henry before accepting, trying to ascertain his feelings about the offer. She found his face filled with surprise and excitement, with no indication of hesitancy in his countenance. “It’s the start of Christmas break, is it not?” Killian asked as she looked back up at him.

“It is,” she affirmed with a wide smile. “And I’d love to have coffee with you, Killian.”

Emma glanced around at the smiles on the faces of Killian, Alice, Henry, Liam Jr, Colin, Elsa, and Liam. She had a feeling that this Christmas surprise was only the beginning of wonderful things to come.

The End... For now...

~*~*~

Yes, that’s right! Last year when I posted this, I got several requests for more in this universe, but I had nothing in mind but a very loose outline of the progression of Emma and Killian’s relationship. Well, a few weeks ago, on our way to vacay after Thanksgiving, the muse spoke up with something a little more specific, and when I ran the idea by @jrob64​, she told me I had to write it. There wasn’t time to get it written for this year, but I really like the idea and I am planning on writing it for next year! I already have notes on the doc! Don’t worry, I’ll repost this one to refresh everyone’s memories before posting the next chapter. 

Thank you all so much for your love of this fic! I’d love to hear what you thought!

#a christmas surprise #fic a versary #self promo sunday #krystal writes #art by krystal

[asterz-playz-official]

[ :( ]

I think after Michael’s friend takes the guy in, there’ll end up being a conversation where she tries to get him to explain and he’s being really weirdly vague and indirect, of course… so she just assumes he doesn’t really want to talk about it, and lets it go.

He’s always nervous, even more so than he’d been the last time she’d seen him.

God… had it been that long since Ryan’d died?

He’d looked so… afraid, then. And not quite in the way he did here, but… there was something about his face that reminded her of the look he’d given her then. Genuine fear. Of something he’d… was it that he’d seen something, or… was it just Ryan’s voice still echoing with its screams.

He’d told them about the door, and…

No, that was…

Michael’s hair caught the light for a moment, and instead of just sort of glowing the way hair normally would, it… seemed to spiral out. Shimmering and shifting, like light as it passes through water.

Michael Shelley, what on earth had happened to you…

—————

He wound up making breakfast for them the next morning. Or at least he tried to.

Maybe something was wrong with his hands.

—————

Michael’d started to get weird around the mirrors in the house, seemingly trying to avoid moving in front of them whenever she was in the room. At one point, she’d decided to try and just take them out of the rooms, but over the next day or so after that, Michael’d just looked more and more… limp. Sickly.

She thought that maybe he was just really hungry or something for some reason, but he’d been eating enough.

He’d started behaving weird when the mirrors had been gone, too. Sitting in front of or around the windows as much as he could.

He “held out” for about three or four days in total until…

Well, she hadn’t been sure it was even Michael at first.

And she certainly hadn’t been sure what to do, at least until she saw the pleading look in the twisting creature’s eyes, and somehow knew that she had to put the mirrors back.

The moment she brought the first of them back out, the figure vanished.

It just… was gone. As if it had never been there at all.

But it had been there. And-

…and where was Michael?

She looked around, trying to find him, then asked around the flat, trying to see if anyone else had seen the man around. No one had. And she didn’t bother checking in with the person who took care of the place, as that would have just caused further problems.

It was almost an hour before he came back.

Not through the door, not through the window, not even from out of the closet, which she’d seriously been half-expecting him to appear from.

She’d almost screamed when the fingers reached out through the mirror in the living room.

He was covered in… something… as he pushed himself out of the glass. She refused to think it was blood, but his hands were especially drenched in it, and that was certainly what it looked like.

And it was only when his wild, fearful eyes caught sight of her watching him emerge, and the terror in his gaze gave way to guilt, despair… regret… that she knew it was him.

She tried to call out to him, to get him to wait, but he disappeared back into the mirror before she could get anything out besides his name.

And just like that… he was gone.

—————

Michael did not go out very much anymore.

—————

He tried to ask questions, looking for help.

He found answers.

He didn’t like those answers.

…They burned him to hear.

—————

Cut here cause the next part involves the use of guns. It’s that part at the end of Mag 91, “The Oncoming Storm”.

So warnings for police violence, police generally being awful, and guns, and everything that comes with guns. /srs

Already tagged the post, but wanted to cut here as well, JUST to make sure.

Daisy only managed to find him after he went to see if he could get some records on things that Jarod Hopworth had done, (trying to pin down a location on him so he could talk to the meat-man), which she actually almost found funny.

She got him out subtly, into the car. They drove. She ordered him to stay put until she’d gotten “the other package”, then thought better of it and dragged him inside with her to “pick up” Jon.

No one was allowed to speak, though Michael didn’t really even want to.

They got to the woods, she pulled them all out of the car.

For a brief few moments, Michael thought that maybe she’d gotten them all out here to help her find something. Even when she held up the gun, he just assumed that it was for “security reasons” so that they’d do what she wanted.

Michael almost didn’t register the gunshot as it hit the man that had been with Jon.

There was just a loud crack, like thunder, and then the man was gone.

And Michael knew that Jon had been right.

They weren’t here to find anything for anyone.

They were just here to die.

Silently. Out of sight of the world.

He felt the gun being reloaded. The click of the hammer vibrated through his legs and up into his skull.

“The disappearing man.”

She was aiming it at him. He looked at the muzzle. It had a smell.

He didn’t move.

He didn’t hear what she was saying anymore. But her mouth was moving.

He wasn’t thinking about any of these things.

The only thing coming to mind were faces.

The blurry, painful memories of the faces of everyone he’d…

Everyone that he had taken as wood for the fire.

The handprint on his shoulder twinged with pain.

Jon was looking at him.

He knew the look, but he had been hoping not to have to see it from him.

The look asked him, angrily, despairingly, hurt and betrayed, what he had done.

He locked eyes with the man beside him, and out flowed all of the images spiraling through his mind.

He hadn’t even asked him a question.

Jonathan was stricken. He could tell. It was all over his face. He didn’t know why there were tears in his eyes, though. He was sure that none of them were for him.

The pistol was flush against his temple, pressed in so hard he could feel her finger starting to pull back on the trigger.

He waited.

The trigger finger didn’t move any further back, she was rummaging through Jon’s bags.

He saw the golden lighter in the satchel before she pulled it out and tossed it at michael’s feet.

Then it was gone.

She hadn’t noticed.

She had a knife, and Jon had brought with him a tape recorder.

The gun was still pointed towards Michael, but now aimed at his chest rather than his face, and he knew now… she was trying to-

… her gun finger pulled back and hit nothing.

But michael felt it.

Jonathan cried out in shock.

Michael just fell over.

The world was on fire.

People were yelling.

Something was happening, and he was moving, though not on his own, and…

There was the pain.

He smiled, and laughed, and then laughed at how silly his laugh was. It was so human. Was he a human?

That would be nice.

He blacked out.

#the magnus archives #tma #michael shelley #michael tma #tma au #tma unwinding au #unwinding au #GUH he’s gonna be ok though #tw gun violence #tw guns #tw police violence #tw police #tw anticipation of death #tw implied murder #tw everything #basically #tw implied death #tw kidnapping #tw police brutality #tw blood #sorry if this feels rushed by the way I might come back and fix it but not yet I just have to have it in writing for now #daisy tonner #Jonathan sims #daisy tma #jon tma #the distortion tma #the distortion #draft

[risingpilots]

I posted 3,494 times in 2022

15 posts created (0%)

3,479 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@philip-the-nickel

@strangeauthor

@orallech

@mahalidael

@punchingbakugodaily

I tagged 31 of my posts in 2022

#hush ke - 9 posts

#hello??? - 3 posts

#tik tok - 2 posts

#martin scorsese - 1 post

#dog ear - 1 post

#me rn - 1 post

#what a world we live in - 1 post

#indigenous - 1 post

#native american history month - 1 post

#idk what to tag this as - 1 post

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#it sounds like she just learned those terms from stan twitter and is trying to fit in with them to sell her music

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

My spotify wrapped for this year

6 notes - Posted November 30, 2022

#4

I am officially 23 years old

6 notes - Posted July 17, 2022

#3

Here's an article and indigenous warrior women. Some of these women were two-spirit and queer.

I think my favorite story in here is about Gouyen who killed the man who killed her husband.

39 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

#2

YALL MARTIN SCORSESE KNOWS ABOUT THE JOKE

150 notes - Posted November 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

There's this thing on tik tok that is interesting to me and it's the cooking videos. Like the ones where someone will share a quick and easy meal that they make.

And its usually really simple. Like maybe chop up a few vegetables and put some meat in a pan. Or just let something simmer for a bit. Or I saw this one video and a lady just cut a bell pepper in half and put an egg in the hole with the seasoning.

And the comments on those videos are always along the lines of "that's not quick and easy" and complaining that they chopped something or used a skillet. And that the commenters idea of a quick and easy meal is just eating cheese out of a bag or a pb&j or just a plain quesadilla. Which are all valid things to eat btw. There are some days where I will just make a sandwich.

But the thing that interests me is that the comments are always based on what the op does in the video. Its never about how much things cost. And that makes me realize that a lot of those ppl just refuse or don't know how to cook something simple. And I think part of that comes from wanting to follow the directions to a T. Which when cooking food... you don't really have to do.

Like you don't have to buy fresh vegetables. They sell frozen ones. They sell diced up frozen chicken. They sell minced garlic in a jar. I've seen things like fish and chicken already seasoned up in the pack, you just gotta cook it. Like...obviously cooking isn't for everyone and sometimes we just don't feel like it. But there are like easier alternatives out there to make an actual meal and not just having to eat bagged cheese all the time.

169 notes - Posted November 18, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

[laoness]

Crowenture Day 14

I’m really starting to see the fruits of my hard work. It’s so rewarding and cute.

Tag list: @dropje-stuff​ @shirokage218​ @niborniac​ @wolfcrows​ @grinningnexu​

I usually go on my walks at around 4pm every day. Today, when it was close to 4pm I suddenly heard the crows making some kind of commotion right outside of my house and I looked out to see them flying rather low and passed my house. Very curious behaviour that I hadn’t seen before.

But when I wanted to go out I realized I ran out of peanuts! So, I first had to go to the grocery store to get a new bag. Luckily it’s a 5 minute walk. However, I think that kinda confused the crows that were hanging out right outside my house. They followed me for a little bit, thinking I’d bring them food and I think they were just so confused as to why I walked into the opposite direction. Poor guys.

Also I whipped out my 13 year old Sony handycam that I once got for my birthday. The quality is still not the best, but it’s way better than what my phone can do, at least when you zoom in. And I have to zoom in very far to get some nice shots of the birds. So, later today I’ll post a video, hopefully. (I know I said that yesterday, but I lost motivation cause the video quality was so crappy).

ANYWAY, once I had my new bag of peanuts, I started my usual round. When I came back from the store, I left some food for the crows that were still hanging around my house, but they weren’t really interested in it for some reason, even tho they had a fletchling to feed.

I left some for them anyway and moved on after awhile. I came to the random patch of grass at the water, where I had happily fed the “new”Pair of crows yesterday. Nobody was home today, sadly. But I left a few peanuts there. Maybe they’d find them later or the jackdaws will get them.

Then I crossed the bridge over the water, and right on the other side I saw another crow, who liked like he knew exactly who I was. I rummaged in my bag to get out some nuts, laid them on the ground and as soon as I stepped away, he and his kid came flying towards it to munch on the food.

I watched them for a little while and after they were done with my peanuts, I decided to leave them a few bits of meat as well. The youngster seemed very interesting in it and he actually hid his food, which was adorable to see! The parent wasn’t that interested.

Then I moved on towards the dead tree. I have consistently been leaving food here, on the exact same spot, for two weeks and it’s showing. They already know what’s about to happen when I emerge from the from between all the thick trees and bushes.

I first saw one crow scavenging through the grass, as she usually does. When I moved a little closer I saw a second one. He knew exactly that I came to bring food. When I walk tot he tree I tend to keep my head down and not look at the crows, since I’m afraid to scare them off. But they are getting more comfortable with me. As soon as I had put the food down and stepped away a little bit, they came flying in. They even cawed, almost as if they were saying ‘thank you!’. And I smiled, softly saying “You’re welcome.” They probably called the other crow to lunch haha.

Anyway, I sat down in the grass a little further away and observed them. I love watching these birds. They were so eagerly opening the peanuts and eating and their youngster really wanted some food, but had to wait his turn. I gave them a mix of peanuts, some meat and one (1) walnut. Walnuts aren’t that cheap and they’re big so I tend to just give them one at a time. It’s great enrichment for them too, to get them open. I know they will eventually succeed.

I have no idea where he brought that walnut in the end. There’s a smaller tree close to this spot where they all headed to. I think that’s where they hide some of their food.

After watching them for a bit, I started to walk back and came to the spot underneath the trees. This one’s always tricky, because they’re not always on the ground and it’s hard to spot them in the trees. But faithfully as I am, I put down their peanut snacc and walked away a little bit and waited.

Not much alter I saw some crows flying underneath the trees and yes! They had spotted my snacc for them. It were the parents with their youngster. I watched the three of them for a bit and it was just so cute to see this family together.

Look at this greedy little young crow. He’s so funny.

I also had a small chat with a man who was walking his dog. The dog was very curious and stood next to me while I was filming. I stopped recording to pet the doggo for a moment, or well, let her sniff my hand. She was a good girl. The owner told me -- after I said I’m watching the crows -- that another man feeds the crows, very early in the morning. So, there is someone else who does it, how interesting. That might explain why that one crow pair was so reluctant to take my offerings.

But anyway, I returned to the playground, but it was way too busy for the crows to show up. I left some food for them there anyway, because I did hear them in the trees above me. They didn’t wanna come down though.

The crows were rather noisy today in general. First the pair right in front of my house were making a big commotion right before I was going out and even after I fed them. Then the crows at the dead tree were also calling and I kept hearing crow caws from further away. As far as I could interpret them they weren’t danger calls, but simple calls to talk to each other. I can only imagine they were talking about food and maybe about this nice human who gives them said food.

I can only hope. It made me happy tho to hear them all talk to each other.

Like I said, video coming soon!

#crowentures #crows #crow diary #erik befriends the crows #crowdad erik

[wing-ed-thing]

Guilty Conscience (Kakashi x Reader, Part I)

Synopsis: You tried to walk away, you really did, but the guilt gnawed at your chest until you found yourself walking back. No, you couldn’t live with yourself if you just left him there. 

Word Count: 2,658

Tags/Warnings: Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Injury, Description of Injury, Gender Neutral Reader, Theif!Reader, Fake Medicine, Jerky (not specified to be meat, I messed up and in the early posted version it was but I took the word out, sorry!), @brokennerdalert​

Notes: This work is dedicated to @cmlehigh​. They came into my inbox with this wonderful idea and I just had to write it and share with all of you. 

As you bounded through the vast forest of the Land of Fire, you couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps you had a bad habit of not knowing how far was too far. You made a sharp turn and slid between two boulders. That should buy you a little bit of time. You always had mixed feelings about the chase. The thieving came easy to your nimble fingers, but the inevitable run from your capture gave you time to think. That must be what you hated most.

A few shouts came from behind you and you heard a few responses in the surrounding area. You changed your course, spotting a fallen tree branch. The crack in the earth under it had to be ten feet deep and just about twice your width. You slipped in, the chilling sensation knowing that you could easily be caught worked down your spine and you clutched your stolen goods close to your chest. You may complain, but the thrill of the chase always left you smiling.

Light trickled into the cavern. Just a little bit. Reflected gold and green sunbeams came down from the foliage that sheltered you. Your breath hitched as you saw vague silhouettes in the leaves above along with a set of mumers in the distance. Being a civilian in a shinobi land put you at a disadvantage, but as the figures retreated, you couldn’t help but feel a semblance of victory over your situation. Although, a victory over bandits that left their burgled items unsecured and relatively unguarded felt more like a game to you than an actual challenge. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know that you had been holding. Yeah, you liked a good game every once in a while.

A strangled noise came from the far side of the cavern and you froze. Your fingers inched to the makeshift pack at your hip, brushing over the cold metal of a kunai that you had stolen long ago. You inched forward to maneuver through the rock until you spotted where the crack met its end. The wheezing grew louder and under a little bit of sunlight, you could make out a man.

He clutched his side from what you could tell and his silver hair fell around his headband like a wet paintbrush. A tattered cloth barely hung to the lower part of his face. He laid back on the rubble, hardly propped up, but even still you clutched your weapon with two hands in front of you. You shifted your bag to your back, a tight squeeze within your compounds, and when you faced the man again, a single, red eye stared back.

A pang of fear reverberated in your chest and something, a feeling of sheer terror shook you to your very core. A few wisps of your hair fluttered the slightest bit. You backed up and turned around, wanting nothing more than to be rid of the disturbing sight in front of you. You made your way in the opposite direction.

The dying man appeared to be a shinobi and high ranking if you ever saw one and getting yourself killed was the last thing you needed. Guilt was hardly an emotion that usually held you back and you truly felt that you had little to feel guilty over. But it crept into you, slowing each of your paces until you stood completely still. And in a moment of weakness, or perhaps a brand of inane strength, you found yourself headed back only to find that the wheezing had stopped.

You paused before pushing yourself forward into the wide beam of sun. You sighed to yourself at your own ridiculousness and forced two fingers onto the pulse under the shinobi’s jaw. You were no medical professional, but it pulsed steadily than you’d expect for a man with his injuries. At least you weren’t touching a corpse. You had the spirits to thank for that. As you felt the palpitations, you turned your eyes upward. The hole wasn’t deep for someone able-bodied, but you weren’t sure about getting this man out with you. Unfortunately for you, your heart already set itself on saving him. Lost in your own thoughts, you didn’t even register the shinobi’s squinted eyes.

A large, strong, bloody hand wrapped tightly around the hand on his pulse. You almost screamed but it came out as a string of high-pitched curses instead as you launched yourself backwards into the darkness. The shinobi’s head lulled and after a still few seconds, you concluded that he passed out once again.

Against your better judgement, you approached him once more.

“I’m trying to help, Mr. Ninja. Just trying to help so if you wouldn’t murder me that would be great,” you sang to yourself, a nervous habit. Your fingers did what they did best and went straight for his pack.

You sat back on your heels with his bag in your lap. You saw shinobi weapons first. A few of them looked like the kunai you had in your own sack of supplies. You found a canteen, half empty, and then a few scrolls. Rolled out on the damp ground, you could barely make out what they said, but upon recognizing the blood for ink, you swiftly wrapped them back up. You didn’t touch one out of the bundle. It looked slightly different from the rest, but the idea of finding more blood writing made you place it back with the others. Medical supplies. A broken radio. A tarp.

Your hands wandered to his vest where you found more of the same items. Vitamins. Scrolls. You paused as you felt a thick, glossy piece of paper. A photo. A photo of the man in front of you along with three young children. You looked at their faces. Two boys and one girl. The blond and the pinkette didn’t look like his, but the brooding one could easily be this shinobi’s son. Another sigh ripped itself from your lips. The guilt crept in again. Great, a father. If you messed up, you’d have to think about these children for the rest of your life. They probably had a mother too.

You put the picture back and decided to revisit his pack. This time, at the very bottom, you felt a strong braid in your hands. Rope. You looked up at the fallen, arching tree above and mentally measured the shinobi’s width against that of the cavern. The two of you were at the thickest part, so if you could elevate him up… You quickly got to work.

It didn’t take as much time to find branches as it did to tie them together. The sun illuminated the land above brightly and you squinted on your first journey up. The Land of Fire was no stranger to vast forests and in no time you got to work on your make-shift cot. You did what made sense: you wrapped the rope around one branch to knot it before doing the same to the next. You used your kunai to cut the length, tying both sides tightly and intricately to form a sturdy, shinobi-sized rectangle. Rope came from each corner to converge above as a pulley. You never learned how to tie knots, but you had been in plenty of police bindings to know how they’re tied and untied.

You lowered it down into the dimness. The sun began to set around you and you knew you had to hurry before you couldn’t see at all. You tied the end of the pulley to a nearby root before jumping into the ground. And by the time you made it out again, you considered it a small miracle that, when you transferred him onto your elevator, you didn’t break the man weaving in and out of consciousness or that he didn’t wake up and break you instead. With him on your cot, it took everything that you had to pull him up.

With each heave, you tied a piece of rope around another piece of tree. It burned your hands, but the cool evening air served to dry some of the sweat on your back. A give and take. You kept tugging and wrapping until the shinobi emerged from the top. With one last tie, you balanced yourself over the uneven ground, straining to turn the bundle of branches. And with one cut with a kunai, the man landed horizontally over the width of the narrow cavern and all there was left to do was drag him onto the land.

***

You must’ve passed out from exhaustion. You were, after all, always more of an endurance runner. Whether you were actually built for the activity, your lifestyle trained you for nothing more, leaving your upper body strength relatively lacking.

Heat lapped at your cheeks and a warm glow flickered on the other side of your closed eyelids. And suddenly, the memories of the past day flooded back to you as you woke up with a start. Even as you sat up, your arms still coiled tightly around your pack. The one filled with items that you stole. A fire flared in front of you and when you looked up, the shinobi you saved stared back at you.

He lounged back on a bed of moss that grew at the foot of a tree. His vest hung sloppily over his shoulders as if he tried to take it off but couldn’t. His black, tattered, shirt was completely cut in two down the length of his chest. A piece of it hung, tied, in the place of his tattered mask. All in all, he resembled a bandit much more than you did. But his wounds were in far worse shape. Smeared blood dried up on his skin. The gash on his side appeared to have stopped bleeding, but you concluded that it was due to the prominent burn marks.

Night still claimed ownership of the sky. You considered calling it a day. He was alive and seemed to have the situation under control. But the small firelight illuminated the med-kit next to the shinobi. The gauze lay slightly unraveled and you once again fought the voice in your own head.

“You need help with that?” you asked in a similar way you’d ask someone who just received a large, restaurant appetizer. He just stared back at you.

“I guess nothing in the Land of Fire is ever new,” he said, voice deeper and more lax than you expected. With the forests spread out across the region, bandits and thieves thrived amongst the trees. You supposed that you did look the part after all. Stealing had always been easy and knowledge over the harsh terrain made for an easy getaway. You couldn’t help but notice that he had covered his red eye as the other narrowed at you. “Your kind always have a catch. Vulture off of someone else if your help means robbing me blind when you’re done.”

“I mean, I checked your wallet and there wasn’t much worth stealing.” You couldn’t blame him for not trusting you, but his words made you feel somewhat defensive. Apparently he never heard of ‘honor among thieves’. “I don’t know if you remember, but you were kinda dying in a hole and I kinda helped you out of a literal pit.”

“Well then you ‘kinda’ have my thanks,” he mocked dryly and you wondered if he was always this cranky. You stood and slung your bag over your shoulder as you made your way to him. The shinobi tensed and you rolled your eyes in turn.

“You don’t have shit for me to take and it’s painful watching you knowing that you can’t even wrap up your own injuries. You shinobi aren’t as great as you think you are.” You took the gauze in your hands. “I’ve helped you this far, so have a little faith.” Despite the tension in his alert body, the shinobi did his best to guide you through the process. He stared at you as you did your work, something you didn’t exactly understand. He had far more muscle mass, so if anyone should fear injury in the current situation, you thought that it should be you. The man glanced from your work on his injuries and then back to your face.

“You’re doing a shit job—”

“Then you do it! Oh wait, you can’t!”

You tightened the end and leaned against the tree trunk next to him. The two of you sat in silence, but you could have sworn that you heard a low chuckle under his breath. The fire fought to stay lit under the cold, nighttime breeze. But as the wind dispelled, the flames grew back again, although gingerly. You hesitantly reached into your bag of stolen goods.

“Jerky?” You offered him a thin strip which the man took warily before you took one for yourself. His eyes zeroed in on something sticking out slightly from the top of your sack. You didn’t notice and the packet of jerky went back in and you closed the top tightly. You placed it under your bent knees and tied one strap around your wrist. The shinobi placed the tip of the snack under his makeshift mask. The two of you ate in relative silence.

“You got a name, Thief?” he asked. You looked up at the stars that shone through the canopy as you wondered if the sky was just as clear in other places as it was in the Land of Fire. You gave him a nod and offered your name.

“What about you, Ninja?”

“My name is Kakashi Hatake.” You pushed the last bit of your food into your mouth, humming to yourself.

“Hatake… that sounds really familiar.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.” You shrugged and didn’t pry. Sounded like something that would only bring you trouble if you knew, so you got up once again. A yawn tore from your lips. You were tired, but you were too awake to sleep, especially knowing that Kakashi was semi-able and awake with you.

“Well, you seem to be breathing, so I’ll be on my way—”

“If you help me back to my village I can ensure a cash reward for you for your efforts.” Now that made you stop. You turned on your heel, brows suddenly raised in interest. Crickets chirped in the forest around you.

“What happened to that mighty ninja spirit? You make me perform manual labor to save your ass then you insult me and eat my food. You must be really lost.” You crossed your arms. “How much?”

“Fifty-thousand ryō.” He shrugged like it was nothing. If you were being honest, you had never held anything close to fifty-thousand ryō in your entire life. With that kind of money, you’d be set for a while. You took another look at his vest and sturdy build.

“If you can just throw out fifty-thousand like that you can go higher for my help. People pay bandits a lot of money for an escort through these woods.” You shifted the straps on your shoulders.

“Okay,” he sighed, “Double it.” Your lashes fluttered.

“Do what now?”

“I’ll pay you a hundred-thousand ryō to take me back to my village.” Kakashi held out a single, dirtied hand and you didn’t hesitate to grab it.

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” When you pulled back, you twirled something around in your other hand. The scroll that you didn’t want to open from the cavern. “You know, I thought that this looked important, but since you’ve been sitting on it all evening, now I know it’s really important!—” Kakashi reached for the scroll back but you kept it out of his reach. —“Think of it as a deposit. I get you to your people, you get me my money, and then you get whatever this is back.”

You stored it away.

Once again, a big thank you to @cmlehigh​! I don’t usually write Kakashi, but whenever I do, you guys seem to like it a whole ton so I thought I’d whip this mini-series up for all of you who have just been so awesome and have supported me!

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated. 

#Kakashi x reader #Kakashi Hatake x reader #naruto x reader #naruto x y/n #naruto x you #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto imagines #naruto imagine #naruto scenarios #naruto scenario #x you #x reader #reader insert #naruto #kakashi #kakashi hakate

[storiesforallfandoms]

asserting dominance ~ machine gun kelly

word count: 1074

request?: yes!

“I sadly can’t share links in an ask, but glitterqueen96 posted a gif (tagged #machine gun kelly) of Colson spitting alkohol in a fans mouth. This gif is doing things for me, could you maybe write something inspired by it? Idk, i would love smthg about him showing you/the power he has over you off in public (i have a thing for confident, dominant men). Would be awesome but i can understand if its too weird, thx for all your writing”

“Hey, just saw the other anon about dominant MGK or Rook and was reminded of a video i saw a few days ago here on tumblr, where Colson spit alcohol in a womans mouth and since then I kinda wish to read an imagine about that 🙈 I don’t know, that clip just showed sutch confidence that the woman just accepts his spit and stuff and idk, dominant men are just my type Thank you for writing such awesome fics for us!”

description: in which he likes to show everyone that she belongs to him and him only

pairing: machine gun kelly x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

If there was one thing that everyone knew about Machine Gun Kelly, it was that he was very protective over his girlfriend.

Colson loved you and treated you like a queen. He basically worshipped the ground you walked on and his friends often joked about how whipped he was, but he could care less. In fact, he would agree to this assessment with a smile on his face.

Of course, you felt the same way for Colson. You loved him more than anything. You couldn’t imagine your life without him at this point. But, surprisingly enough, he was the jealous one of the relationship.

With how many groupies and female celebrities that were trying to get close to Colson, everyone thought that you’d be the one to get jealous. You did have some moments of jealously sometimes, but you trusted Colson. You knew he’d never do anything, and he trusted you, too, but he couldn’t help but feel some form of jealousy when other guys tried to hit on you. He would always make some display to guys who were getting a little to close to show them that you were his and his only.

You and Colson were invited to a party by one of Colson’s friends on one of their rare nights off. You were dressed in a short, tight dress, one that showed off your every curve and drove Colson absolutely wild. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when you walked down the stairs.

“Fuck baby,” he said, wasting no time in grabbing your ass once you reached him. “I wanna take this thing off you already.”

“You’ll have to wait,” you told him, making sure to rub against him in a way to tease him more. “I spent a lot on this dress and I wanna wear it.”

Colson sighed and reluctantly let you go. You smirked at him before leaving up to kiss him.

His eyes were on you constantly throughout the night. Even when you were talking to others or dancing with your friends, Colson’s eyes were scanning your body. The beautiful body that he was fortunate enough to make love to every night.

But Colson wasn’t the only attention you had. A handful of guys in attendance also had their eyes glued to you as you moved your hips to the music. Colson noticed these looks and tried his best not to get too upset over it, but it was hard when they were looking at you as if you were a piece of meat.

You stumbled off the dance floor towards the kitchen for another drink. The kitchen was so crowded that you basically had to shove everyone out of the way in order to get to the alcohol.

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?” a guy you had shoved asked as you started pouring your drink.

“First, I’m not that little,” you retorted. “And second, if a bunch of assholes were surrounding the alcohol you were trying to get to, you’d be ‘feisty’ too.”

The guy chuckled and put up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, fair enough! My bad, I’ll stop surrounding the alcohol then.”

“Good. Other people want to drink too you know.”

He shrugged and held his cup out to you. “On that note, mind pouring me a drink?”

You obliged and filled his cup before placing the bottle aside.

“Thanks. I’m Brad by the way.”

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you, Brad.”

“You too, (Y/N). Not to be too forward, but are you here with anyone?”

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head. You figured this would happen. “I am. I have a boyfriend, he’s in the other room actually.”

“Should I be afraid then?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Depends. Are you going to keep trying to flirt with me?”

“If you want me to, I’d certainly like to try.” He even winked! Then openly checked you out after you told him you were there with someone! This bastard has some balls.

Your eyes drifted behind Brad to see an angry looking Colson making his way towards the two of you. You tried not to smirk, knowing what was coming next.

“Hey babe,” Colson said, wrapping his arm around your waist. “Just wanted to see what was taking so long.”

“I was just talking to Brad here,” you responded, gesturing to your attempted flirt. “Brad, this is my boyfriend, Colson.”

You could see recognition cross Brad’s face as he looked over Colson. You cuddled into his side, feeling a sense of pride at Brad’s sudden deer in the headlights expression.

Colson reached out and grabbed the drink you had just poured for Brad out of his hand, glaring at him in the process. He didn’t break eye contact as he took a mouthful of the drink. He moved the hand that was around your waist to cup your face and turn it to face him. He squeezed it in a way that opened your mouth.

Your eyes widened as you felt the harsh liquid hit the back of your throat. You coughed a bit after swallowing it, the alcohol burning your throat as it went down. Colson dumped the rest of the contents and threw the empty plastic cup back at Brad. He took your arm and guided you out of the kitchen and into a mostly empty hallway.

“Spitting in my mouth,” you commented. “That’s a new one.”

“Yeah, I kinda came up with it on the spot,” he said. I’m sorry, was it too much?”

“It was unexpected, but it was kind of hot.” You shrugged. “I like the ways you show off that I’m yours.”

“It’s not too much? I’m not too much?”

You smirked and leaned forward to start kissing his neck. “Not at all. I want every guy who tries to hit on me to know that I’m yours.”

A breathy moan escaped Colson’s lips as you sucked on his neck. His hands gripped your waist, one of them slowly trailing to grab your ass.

“Do you still want to get me out of this dress?” you whispered in his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

“That’s all I’ve wanted all night,” he responded.

“Then find an empty room and fuck me so hard that everyone at this party will know who I belong to.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice. He grabbed your hand and yanked you into the nearest empty room.

#machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker #colson baker imagine #colson baker x reader #mgk #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[hologramcowboy]

This is my answer:

I don't stan danneel, i know nothing about her, except that she's Jensen's wife, i don't even like her acting, and i don't care about her, this isn't about her at all.

You are always accusing people of toxic positivity, but in reality you're just looking for a way to justify your hatred.

Jensen has a ton of legitimate reasons (that we actually know about) to be sad right now.

For starters the end of spn, for him it meat the end of life as he knew it for 15 years, he had a whole life built in Vancouver you know.

Not to mention the way spn ended was tremendously unfair to him.

Then this whole pandemic with the quarantine and fear, probably hearing about the death of people he knew just like everyone else (we all lost someone or something to covid)

He looked horrible all this time, until he started working in The Boys (a welcome distraction and you know, makeup teams do miracles) but he was away from his kids for months and months while .

Then he gets to work in a western with alec baldwin his freaking dream come true, but it was obliterated within a second, who knows what he saw, or what he knows, but it is probably enough to scar someone for life.

So yeah poor guy, i'm aware his life is not perfect.

That being said, i find incredibly unfair, disrespectful and upsetting is that you are here fully especulating about his private life, and then accusing other people of not respecting him.

especially after he spoke so openly about how hurtful and heartbreaking false narratives are.

Painting anon, you are the one who sent in the tag request thing? lol

I “accuse”people of toxic positivity because I made one post about it? You didn't even get the context. I was referring to the fact that putting a happy face sticker on his feelings and forcing him to behave a certain way IS TOXIC. It’s the very definition of toxic positivity.

I simply said give them man space to heal and I would say it for ANYONE going through that. It IS toxic positivity to expect someone to act/feel in ways they cannot because they are in pain. But thanks for proving you have no empathy whatsoever. 

I appreciate your perspective but here's mine: I think it's incredibly disrespectful, dis-empowering and toxic to IGNORE his true feelings and to not speak openly about things.

But thanks for trying to gaslight me and pit me against people, unfortunately for you, people who read this blog are intelligent and have a high emotional intelligence so they know I'm not "accusing" (do I look like Jesus to you, painting anon?) anyone but I am just being a voice in favor of Jensen's well-being and adding my humble perspective which they can consider or not because they are fully capable of thinking and feeling for themselves. The false narratives Jensen was referring to did not come from this blog which by the way didn't even exist back then. He was referring to the fact that when he arrived at an event separately from Danneel and then sold his dream house people started speculating they were divorcing and for some reason they felt like it was not toxic to limit people from assuming what was natural to assume given the circumstances. That was not a heroic thing Jensen did, it was a way of saying "Oh look we are so famous people speculate about us". It's a PR buildup in collaboration with Cliff and Danneel and whatever said publicist advised them to pull something like that but you wouldn't know anything about that because you perceive everything superficially and judgementally. This blog is for people with CRITICAL THINKING, not for blinded stans, you want your fantasy? Go have it in your fake corner of the internet. Round here we behave like real people with personal thoughts and we engage in critical thinking. You admit that Jensen is suffering but criticize me for defending him....That lacks coherence and shows your only agenda is making Danneel, the very woman responsible for his state, look good even thought she is a toxic influence. Good luck with that, please get off my blog before I block you. You have no trace of positivity you are just full on TOXIC.

#anti danneel #anti jenneel

[ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole]

Claiming Ones Own

Ok so, sorry for such a slow update on this. I had an attack of brain worm ideas which distracted/refused to let me focus on the chapter for a while. Have destroyed/dealt with most of the new ideas and have finally finished the chapter 🎉

Masterlist

[Chapter 1] [Previous]

...................................................................................

Chapter 5 - Playtime Chaos

Cass was going to kill Jason. That is, if Marie didn’t do it first by accident. He needed to go back to Gotham ASAP and get out of her hair! He may have been helpful to begin with, but now he was a menace and needed to go!

Jason had created a ‘new game’, well he said it was one he and Alfred used to play when he first moved into the manor, but it was still new to Cass. Only Jason had not really thought through the consequences of said game. He hadn’t thought that this game was with Cass and him rather than with Alfred who had obviously thought the game through properly.

The game, of which Jason thought was an amazing idea, was to redirect Marie's pickpocketing habit. If she pickpocketed strangers chocolate rights were reduced. Marie figured this rule out quickly which resulted in one horrific drama due reduced chocolate for the day. It was painful with lots of tears for all involved. Then there was a chocolate reward/increase rule when she pickpocketed Cass or Jason.

Cass might have agreed with his logic. It was a good game to bond with her, ensure she felt her skills remained and reduce the thieving, but this… THIS… result should have been expected!

What they hadn't considered is that the pair often carried weapons on them ALL the time. In and out the house. The pair were paranoid. Marie had observed the pair and quickly worked out what and where they stored these weapons.

Marie was also good at being light fingered to begin with. They knew that. THEY HAD EXPERIENCED IT. This wasn't new territory for her.

Training Marie further was a bad idea.

Cass so wanted to kill Jason for this game.

Cass’s heart couldn’t cope with it anymore. When the knives were taken it was anxiety inducing. Watching her daughter dance around with a knife, playing with it and watching it slice through the air caused so much panic in Cass.

The positive of that event was that Cass had started to train her daughter in basic swordplay. She observed, much like Damian, that going through basic positions and movements grounded and calmed her daughters chaotic energy. Marie was picking the skill up quickly so official 'safe fencing lessons' will be added to the girls learning activities.

Jason though, Jason her ‘delightful brother’ (if he survived her wrath), carried guns. He had ‘hidden’ guns around her apartment. So coming home from shopping to find her precious, innocent, sticky fingered Marie, inspecting and playing a gun was petrifying.

And Jason who was meant to be watching her daughter was missing! It was the last straw for Cass.

…………………………………………..

Jason admits that this may have been a mistake. Thinking back with a more analytical perspective than fond memories. Alfred had set it up that Jason would nearly always win the game. Alfred knew where weapons were but didn’t carry them around on his person.

Marie was a natural. Jason was super proud of his niece, she was getting swifter and lighter at each attempt. Her playing with the finds aka knives was maybe a little oversight. Cass’s reaction to it all was even less fun. Her subtle disgruntledness was made known to him unpleasantly. Swapping the sugar for salt in his morning coffee was revolting! But it at least was just basic pranks Cass was retaliating with… not Wayne Manor declarations of war…. He hoped...

He had popped out the room briefly (ok maybe not briefly but not for a really long time) as Roy had rang and wanted his assistance for a mission. Coming back into the room he found Pixie with his latest new toy *cough* gun and an irrate Cass looking like she would murder with the batglare she throw at him.

"Hi Cass.... Pixie… Roy just called asking for my assistance. I'll," he gulped as his sister levelled him with a laser beam stare and his niece turned to him, pointing the gun in a way he was showing her earlier, with curiosity showing on her face. "I'll be leaving in a few days… umm Pixie could you be a sweetheart and aim the gun downwards please?"

His niece frowned at him looking at it and him "Chocolate?" Jason quickly glanced at Cass and could feel the icy waves wafting off her. "Errr... Yeah sure thing sweetie. But to get it you will need to put the gun down first please."

Marie broke into a grin and put the gun in the coffee table skipping over to Jason to grab his hand leading him to her treasure. "Your stance then was much better, Pixie, and I didn't even feel you take the gun this time. You've improved loads this week."

He felt Cass's anger pour off her. Maybe he should have asked if he could teach Pixie about guns....

When the pair returned to the living room, Cass handed Jason his suitcase. "Go! Be Roy's issue now"

…………………………………………..

With Jason gone Cass found that the apartment was much quieter with just the pair of them, especially as sign language seemed to be both of their preferred communication method. Cass turned to playing music in the background to remind her of her siblings back in Gotham (not Jason though), this caused her to dance absentmindedly. Marie was often caught trying to mimicking her dance moves with light footwork, her grace and form yet to be perfected.

Cass saw this as another class to sign her daughter up to along with fencing to burn the chaotic energy up. Especially now Jason wasn't around playing rough and tumble with her.

................................................................

It was one afternoon about a month after Jason had left that Cass had a break through. While Marie was setting up a tea ceremony (a post swordplay practice ritual she'd got into), Cass had stumbled on her first actual clue in finding out about Marie's past. Her search had finally unearthed similar symbols, used centuries ago by some Tibetan monks, to the ones that were on her back. What this meant Cass was unsure. To progress further she probably needed to talk to Babs or Tim, but if she did that she'd have to tell them why. Which everyone finding about Marie and she wasn't ready for that.

She still fretted over what Marie must have gone though and to unleash the Wayne's on her seemed daunting.

Cass was about to look further into what she had gathered when her phone went off. It Alfred calling which was unusual.

"Alfred"

"Hello Miss Cassandra. I hope you are well and have settled into motherhood comfortably."

Cass paled. Alfred knew!! Damn it Jason!!! He was dead meat when she saw him next.

"Adapting. Marie, your great granddaughter, is sweet. Both learning about being together"

"I see. I am assuming that that is going well. Master Jason has mentioned that you found her on the streets in a similar manner to how he was found."

Jason guns were going to go missing and be replaced with water pistols.

"Yes. Much better now. Learning sign to talk to each other. Eating better too."

"That is good news to hear Miss Cassandra."

It was a set up. Jason had triggered in and Alfred was waiting to pounce. There was no way to escape but to make it easier for her self.

"We visit you soon. Wanted Marie settled first."

"I'll arrange a flight for you in a fortnight's time. Is there anything young Miss Marie will require."

Completely trapped now she'd taken the bait. Alfred knew it, she knew it. And everyone will know about Marie in no time. Maybe she would be able to get Babs and Tims help after all.

"Thank you Alfred. Bunk bed, milk chocolate and chocolate spread please." Cass paused for a second as Marie looked over to her signing 'tea time Mama'

"Loose green tea leaves too, for tea ceremony, please."

Cass finally could hear a smile in Alfred's voice and relaxed slightly. She may have escaped some of Alfred's disappointment.

"I will ensure I meet those requirements Miss Cassandra. I will send you your flight details when I have finished arranging them. I look forward to seeing you again Miss Cassandra, and to meeting Miss Marie. I will now take my leave for you to spend time with you daughter."

Looks like she will be needing to prepare Maire for a flight and meeting the family. She would have to up her parenting game to ensure she completely beat Bruce.

Moments after she had hung up Alfred had sent flight details across. Complete evidence that the whole call as a ruse and he got what he wanted. Well played Alfred well played. Cass responded to Alfred, thanking him for his efficiency and to arrange some face time calls to occur in the next fortnight. Alfred deserved to get to know her precious Marie first so at least she had an ally in the Manor when they visited. Someone other than Jason. That reminded Cass to shoot a text to Jason

*You.are.dead.betrayer.*

He replied quickly to her message

*Adventure with Roy went sideways. Alfred wasn't happy. I needed something to soften the blow!!! I'm sorry!!! Don't kill me!!*

Pah! He sold her out that's what. He was in Alfred's book of disappointment and didn't want to be there alone so dragged her to hell too. Jokes on him, she'll work her and Marie magic to make it work for them. Her phone buzzed again as Jason messaged her again. Ignoring it she went to join Marie for tea and tell her the 'fun news'.

In her head she had a fortnight to prepare her revenge.

Tag List:

@boldlyanxious @laurcad123 @toodaloo-kangaroo

@too0bsessedformyowngood @lady-bee-fechin @solangelo252 @mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog @arty-shadow-morningstar @macncheesemonster @purplegeekypanda @corporeal-terrestrial @maribat-shenanigans

#maribat #maribat au #claiming ones own #marinette x cass #plantonic #found family #marinette x jason #ml x dc #dc x ml #mlb x dc #dc x mlb

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 2

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together.

Characters/Pairing:  Vampire!Walter Marshall x Female Reader

Warnings (for this chapter); Talk of PTSD, Reader is ex police, Possible home invasion, NSFW sexy times, protected sex.

Previous Parts: Werewolf!Sy: Moonlight on the Sand  Castle Under The Stars.  Werewolf!Sy, Vampire!Walter: Chapter 1

This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters. The ‘reader’ for each story will be a ‘new’ reader, so its not the same woman being with all the male characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Chapter 2

Walter had managed to recover from the shock of seeing his best friend and his wife being able to make their eyes glow, and as unbelievable as it sounded, had accepted their explanations of how they’d been turned into Werewolves. Much like his own knowledge of Vampirism before he had been turned himself, he quickly understood that what the media made these quirks of nature to be and what they actually were had been greatly exaggerated. 

Sy had stayed up into the early hours of the morning with him, sharing the better part of a bottle of bourbon as he’d described how it affected their family, and how his wife only turned when her period coincided with a full moon, and how they dealt with childcare during the times that they would turn. 

-

Walter woke with a start, the soft mountain light pouring in the windows and for a moment he was confused, not recognising his surroundings until he remembered spending the rest of the night on Sy’s couch. His mouth felt like something had crawled inside and died, and he swore in that moment not to share hard liquor with someone that could howl at the moon. Finding some painkillers high in a kitchen cabinet he crushed two between his teeth before drinking straight from the tap. Standing tall he moved his neck, trying to get the kinks and knots out of his muscles when a pair of fluffy slippered feet appeared in the doorway. Looking up Walter poorly suppressed a laugh as he saw Sy wearing a pair of sheepskin moccasins and what was obviously his wife’s robe;

“Reginald, you look stunning” Walter muttered as he watched his friend shuffle into the kitchen

Sy held up his finger and waggled it, wincing at the sunlight pouring in the window;

“Don’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t call me that, the only people that call me that are the preacher or my Ma, and unless you’re planning on marrying me or making me biscuits...”

Walter laughed, leaning against the counter as Sy filled the coffee pot as if he was on autopilot, before reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a baby bottle with the previous day’s expressing date on. Setting the bottle to warm in a bowl of water he handed Walter a tin of coffee;

“Fill that up, i’m gonna go get Luna”

A few minutes later he reappeared holding his little girl in his arms, wrapped in a soft blanket covered in moons and stars. Grabbing the bottle before settling at the kitchen table, he popped the lid off and shook the bottle, before lifting it and shaking a few drops onto his tongue, laughing when he saw Walters eyes go a little wide;

“Better straight from the source but Mama is sleepin’ so its me in Mama’s robe” he explained with a grin on his face. Walter placed a mug of steaming black coffee in front of Sy; “Thanks man… hey, in the fridge there’s a pint of pigs blood from Walkers Meats… ya’know, if you need it”

“Why have you got pigs blood?”

“The missus was gonna make some Scottish thing, some sorta sausage, but if you need it, we can always get another… in fact she’s gonna be too tired to use it before it spoils, what with the full moon and all...”

Sy turned his attention to his tiny daughter feeding in his arms, giving Walter the sense of privacy to do what he needed to do. As Luna finished her bottle Sy held her to his shoulder, rubbing her back until she let out a burp he would have been proud of himself, only looking up when he heard Walter also let out a low belch;

“You need me to rub your back too Walt?”

“Fuck off Sy” the vampire said lightheartedly, a sense of relief in his mind now that the guy that had become one of his best friends knew his secret.

-

Pulling the last crate of bottles off the back of the pickup you thanked the guy from the craft brewery and waved him off, taking a deep breath before slowly climbing the fire escape at the back of the bar that led into the storeroom. It had been a long shift already, starting at 10am you’d opened up and started the ovens, restocked the bar as the cleaners had come through and cleaned the place top to bottom. Your boss was always decent to his staff, paying a good wage and having the cleaning crew come in during the closed daytime hours rather than in the early hours of the morning.

Working around them as they did their job, you restocked the caddy’s on the tables with silverware, napkins, and condiments, before returning to the bar and checking on the ice machine.

“Hey we’re all done now” one of the cleaners said as you looked up.

“That’s great, thanks. You guys always make this place look good”

Chatting with them you walked them through the storeroom - something your boss always insisted on that any non bar staff had to be escorted through - before one reached for the wooden rail on the fire escape. Something made you stop talking and before you could stop yourself, one hand was pushing one of the guys back into the storeroom, the other was grabbing the shirt that was already standing outside. Just as you did the rail slipped away, as if in slow motion, the three of you looking in fear as the heavy wood crashed twenty feet below onto the empty kegs that were stored beneath.

Speechless you stood there, fingers still curled around the shirt of one, hand splayed across the chest of the other;

“Fuck” you whispered quietly, not to anyone in particular.

“You could say that…”

-

Having made sure both cleaning guys were ok, if a little shaken up, you made them leave by the front door then considered your options. Dialling the boss you weren’t surprised to hear it ring out before going to voicemail. He had strict downtime rules, and was more than likely out on his ranch land taking care of his horses. Knowing he trusted you to make the right judgement, you scrolled through your numbers and dialled Marshall’s Property Maintenance;

“Marshall’s, what can i do for you?”

“Hi, i’m calling from Big G’s Sports Bar? We’ve just had the handrail fall off our fire escape. Wondering if you’ve got space to fix it this afternoon?”

There was a pause before you heard a long exhale of breath;

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in twenty minutes”

“Thanks Walter”

Hanging up you smiled. You’d worked with Walter when you’d been on the police force, you’d been a patrol cop that would assist with crime scene control and you’d been first on the scene for countless horrific acts of violence. One final call had given you PTSD so bad you’d resigned, finding a home in the small town of Blackwater Lake and a steady job at Big G’s Sports Bar. Your boss was the big quiet type, liked to spend more time out on his ranch with his horse, having enough trust in you to run the day to day operations of the bar as his assistant manager. 

-

It had been well past 9pm when Walter finished the repairs. Your boss had come in and helped him out when he’d got your text, leaving you in charge of the first few hours of opening. When the two men reappeared through the storeroom you smiled at them, getting ready for the evening handover before grabbing your coat and clocking off.

A few minutes later as you hopped off the last step of the fire escape onto the dandelion scattered gravel - your boss liked to let them grow - you smiled at Walter as he was loading his tools into his truck;

“Hey, thanks for today. Really saved our bacon… without the fire escape we wouldn’t be up to code so couldn’t have opened”

“S’ok. Glad you called” Walter admitted; “It’s been a while…”

Scuffing the gravel with your boot you swallowed the lump that was in your throat;

“How have you been? Since… ya know…”

“Alive. Wouldn’t be here if it hadn’t of been for you and your partner”

“We did what was needed… not every day you see va…” you stopped yourself, you still hadn’t completely come to terms with what you’d seen; “V...vagrants doing that… I’m just glad we got there in time…”

There was a moment of awkward silence before Walter rounded the truck and stood in front of you;

“Do you need a ride home? Your boss mentioned that you walk to work and you stayed late where he was helping me get this fixed”

“Thanks, that’d be nice”

-

Over the next few nights Walter would appear at the bar early evening, usually under the pretense of checking the work on the fire escape or dropping off the bill to the office, and you quickly clocked that he would always be leaving just as your shift was ending to conveniently give you a ride home. Not that you minded, the weather had turned unseasonably cool after the warmth of the parade weekend, so the casual conversation as he drove you home in the warmth of his giant truck was a good way to end the day. 

As he rolled into the parking lot behind your apartment complex you wondered if you should invite him in for a coffee, but weren’t sure if you were reading his intentions correctly. Gnawing on your lip you reached into your pocket for your keys, smiling at Walter as he pulled the truck to a stop;

“There we go, home sweet home. Have a good night”

“You too Walter”

Stepping out you smiled and gave him a little wave, knowing he waited until you had gotten into your building.

-

Watching you go Walter cursed himself. When Rachel had left he’d been in the dumps even more than usual, but over the last few days he’d taken a shine to you. He was pretty sure you had clued onto the fact that he had always turned up around the time of your shift finishing, but when he’d found out from Geralt that your car had died and you couldn’t afford to repair it, he didn’t like the thought of you walking home alone. Sure Blackwater Lake was a sleepy little town, but keeping in mind what lurked in the woods - both natural and supernatural - he felt better knowing you’d gotten home. He had been sure you were going to invite him in for coffee tonight, but he’d gotten butterflies in his stomach and had blurted out a farewell before you’d had the chance.

Looking up at your apartment he let out a sigh. 

Then… then something caught his eye. You hadn’t been in the building long enough for the shadow to be you, knowing you stopped to grab your mail each time you entered the building. Killing the engine he reached to the glove compartment for his gun - he still had a concealed carry permit - and raced to the building.

-

Juggling your mail and your purse, you held the letters in your mouth as you searched for the right key on your set when suddenly the sound of thundering footsteps made you spin around, your jaw dropping when you saw Walter appear from the staircase and running to your side. His hand was on your arm and he was pulling you to the side of your door before holding you to his chest;

“There’s someone in your apartment”

“What? No, i locked everything before i left… and there’s no sign of any damage to the door…”

Letting you go he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled for the sheriff, but as you listened in you could hear the volunteer dispatcher explain that both the Sheriff and the two deputies were out on the highway dealing with an 18 wheeler logging truck that had spun off on a bend. Walter cursed under his breath and hung up;

“Do you still carry?”

“No… not since…”

“Ok. Unlock the door and stay behind me”

The next minute seemed to last both seconds and hours, following Walter through your apartment until he silently pushed the bedroom door open with his gun;

“Freeze!”

The shape in the darkness didn’t move, and when you peered over Walters extended arm and you realised what he was looking at, you let out a sigh and flipped the lightswitch, the ‘threat’ suddenly illuminated and Walters shoulders dropping;

“Oh…”

Your spare uniform shirt was hanging on the frame to the window where you’d hung it earlier in the day so the sunshine would dry it. You let out a deep breath and laughed, resting your forehead against Walters shoulder;

“It’s just my uniform…” you hadn’t realised your voice was shaking until Walter turned and wrapped his arms around you

“I’m sorry i scared you”

Burying your face in the warmth of his sweater, your voice was muffled as you spoke;

“Its ok. I’d rather you have seen the mess in my apartment and saved me from an intruder than the alternative…” you smiled weakly at him, and it was then that the tension in the room was like static before a storm. Like the first lightning strike, when Walters lips touched yours it was as if electricity coursed through your veins, the kiss hungry and needy, contact between two touch starved people needing that connection. Your fingers curled in threads of his knitwear, pulling yourself closer as his arms wrapped around you and his hands splayed out over your ass, squeezing handfuls of flesh so he could pull you flush against his body. The kiss deepend and his tongue sought entrance between your lips which you eagerly granted. He tasted of coffee and peanut butter chocolate, and when he pulled away you were both gasping for breath.

“So, vampires do need oxygen then?”

“How do you…? How are you not scared?”

“Because i was there when it happened. And I've seen you hundreds of times since. I’ve seen you in the mirror, I've seen you outside in the sunshine, i’ve literally served you garlic bread…” you paused; “And i didn’t need to invite you in. Whatever myths are linked to your condition, i know the Walter behind them, i know the quiet and controlled Walter that assesses a situation and ensures everyone is safe…” you paused; “Because I know i’m safe with you”

Walter opened his mouth to speak, but the lump in his throat caught the words. Closing his eyes he rested his forehead against yours, letting out a shaky breath as you gently held his face in your palms, your thumbs softly caressing the skin of his cheeks where his beard ended. You pressed your lips to his, and this kiss was different, this kiss was full of passion, of acceptance and the growing need that was blooming. 

Clothes were scattered as fingers and lips found each new patch of exposed skin, running your fingernails down his massive chest as you both fell to the bed, your fingers curling in the coarse hair that covered his chest before clutching at his belt as his teeth sharply ran over the line of your collarbone and you let out a gasp;

“More…”

“I… I’m not going to bite you…”

“I don’t want you to, but my neck is super sensitive, it's like my biggest turn on…”

At that moment Walter could feel the change, his eyes paling and his fangs growing more prominent as you watched from below him, but what he wasn’t expected was the groans that escaped your throat and the way your body shook;

“Did you just…?” he cocked an eyebrow, he already knew you’d just cum, but he wanted you to admit it.

“Yes, fuck yes, now i need more…”

With a growl he ducked his head down and peppered sharp kisses over your neck, hands working on each others jeans before you were able to kick them off. Your hands ducked into Walters pants and you grasped at his hard length, hot in your palm through his underwear;

“Oh fuck, you’re big…”

“Don’t worry, i’ll go slow… do you… do you have protection?”

“In the drawer”

He reluctantly pulled himself off the bed, and you propped yourself up on your elbows as he searched out the condoms, pulling the box out and swinging something else from his fingertips;

“These aren’t regulation edition”

The pink fluffy handcuffs had been a present a long time ago, and had somehow moved apartments with you;

“Next time…” you reached and grabbed them from him, tossing them aside before grabbing the box and a small foil packet, ripping it open with your teeth as Walter quickly shed himself of his boots and jeans, his dark boxers discarded as you reached for him and smoothed the latex over his fat dick.

He smoothed his hands down your legs, before tugging you down the bed and flipping you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up until your ass was in the air. The rough brush of his beard against your soft inner thighs was quickly soothed by his tongue swiping a firm lick through your soaked folds. He took hold of your hips and you felt him move into position, the firm nudge at your entrance before with a low groan he speared you with the slow stretch of his girth.

“You feel so fucking good… so tight…”

Your fingers curled into the bedsheets and your jaw hung open, the sheer pleasure that was coursing through your veins felt like an elixir as Walter hammered into your tight velvet channel. The carnal slap of flesh on flesh resonating around the room, only joined by the breathless pants escaping your lips and the grunts Walter would let slip as he sought pleasure in your body with his own. He splayed his fingers over your back, running the palm of his hand up your spine until he was able to cup your neck and pull you up, flush with his heated body. His sharp teeth scraped over your neck, his beard rough against the etched skin;

“Look in the mirror. See how amazing you look”

Focusing your attention on the dresser mirror that stood in the corner, you watched as Walter continued to slowly rock his hips, fucking you slow and hard from behind. But it was his eyes that drew your attention, icy pools of white with deep obsidian pupils piercing the tundra, and the flash of danger from his sharp teeth at your neck, just catching on the skin as he spoke;

“You’re so fucking beautiful, dunno what i did to deserve you… will you cum for me?” he slid his hand down your stomach and in the patch of curls at the apex of your thighs, seeking out the sensitive pearl of your clit and rubbing the pad of his finger over it in firm circles; “Will you cum for me?” he repeated, punctuating each word with a sharp thrust of his hips.

“Yes… Walter, please…”

“What do you need…”

“My neck, please…”

Walter knew he couldn’t bite you, there were so many unknowns he’d never explored, but he closed his eyes and focused his energies on bringing you to completion. Thrusting his hips in time to the movement of his hand, whilst sucking a hickey onto your neck, knowing his teeth were rubbing against the skin but not breaking it. The triple stimuli sent you over the edge, your head rolling back onto his shoulder and your mouth open in a silent scream as you came so hard you saw stars, shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as your walls gripped Walter tight, before with one final thrust you heard him growl as he came hard.

He held you for the longest time, your heart racing in your chest as echoes of your orgasm ricocheted through your body. As Walter started to soften you felt him hold the condom at the base of his shaft as he pulled out gently;

“Err… bathroom?”

“Just through there” you nodded to the door off of the bedroom as you fell to the bed, laying back with a smile on your face.

A few moments later he reappeared with a warm washcloth, first soothing your neck before tenderly attending to the mess between your thighs. After putting it back in the bathroom he appeared at the side of the bed, reaching for his jeans when you caught his wrist and pulled him onto the bed;

“You don’t need to go”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…”

“Look, unless you’re going to turn into a bat or something, you’re fine… we can talk, order some takeout…”

Wrapping his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled to his chest as he smiled sleepily;

“That sounds good. Can i take you out on a proper date at some point?”

“That’d be nice. Though our options are slim in this town, its only Sue’s Coffee Shop or Big-G’s Bar… unless you want to get a take-out pizza and sit outside on the kerb”

“I’ll cook, come to my place? What are you doing Friday night?”

“I’m off, but…”

“But?”

You felt your cheeks flushing with heat;

“I’m due on by the end of the week…”

“Oh. OH…” You looked up at Walter and saw a flush over his cheeks and his blue eyes glinting with excitement and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh… you’re into that?”

“You’re… not? Because i just want to say, i would happily give oral to my girl on her period even pre-vamp status…now its just…”

“A snack?”

He let out a low belly laugh;

“Yeah, you could say that”

Curling up to Walter’s chest you felt a sense of calm you hadn’t experienced for a very long time, the conversation flowing easily and long into the night, before you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall smut #Vampire!Walter #henry cavill

[wilder-fangirl]

Looking for advice but - TW EATING DISORDER STUFF?

I saw someone who tagged a post as pr0 4n4 and so I looked at the tag just out of curiosity and then I saw this 'diet plan' thing that was 12 or so days and had a decreasing number of calories per day - I can't find the exact post but it was something like these

And I know it's unhealthy but I've been wanting to eat less bc I get a lot of pressure from my family to eat a lot more than I should

Like I already have a small appetite plus I don't do any physical activity so I really only require a little bit of food

But of course my dad is Man Who Loves Food™ and makes dinner every night and wants us all to have dinner as a family and is always talking about food to me in other parts of the day

So a lot of times I end up eating a full fucking dinner even when I'm not hungry and just ate 3 ish hours ago because I usually eat at work

So yeah I'm considering going on one of these diets so I can lose the extra weight I've put on over the last year/two years and until I can regulate my food intake bc I got so used to eating when I'm not hungry I would eat when I'm bored and stuff and I would just over eat

I'm basically just trying to get to the point where I ONLY eat when I'm hungry or if I'm not hungry all day I make sure I eat one small meal

So like yesterday I had one piece of home made relatively-healthy pizza which had both veggies and meat and a organic granola bar thing in the morning and then after that I just chewed a shit ton of gum all day

I never got hungry at least that I can remember so I just didn't eat anything else

So now my idea for today is that I'm gonna eat less than I had yesterday or nothing at all

I drink about a gallon of water a day and I try to take vitamins (c and d) every day but yesterday I forgot

If anyone is reading this do you think this is a bad idea like a slippery slope into actually developing an eating disorder/anorexia? My goal is really just to only eat as much as my body actually demands and going back down to what my weight was a few years ago (I was the same height then so I don't think it'll be overcompensating) but do you think there's a risk of it devolving into something else that's worse?

Also in the past I have low key had a binge eating thing so maybe I already have an eating disorder I really have no idea

[liesoverthec]

the post hasn't surfaced yet so please use this ask to talk abt the objectification of the 911 men!!

Ahh May you’re too nice but also thank you, I’m gonna 😂💛

This got. CRAZY long bc I just had a million thoughts so I’m gonna stick it under a cut.

To be honest, I think the reason they do *any* sort of objectification at all is that middle aged and older viewers are used to being able to objectify actors to a certain extent. Lord knows it happens on literally every other single piece of media, and this is a mainstream broadcast show, not an indie series or the likes, so I think they have to cater to those people as well as us, and the WAY they do it is so interesting to me bc even when they’re doing it, they use it as a way to drive home other, deeper messages.

For starters, I feel like the show OG was trying to be in the pilot and the first few episodes would have objectified the men WAY more than we see now if there hadn’t been that shift in tone - the sex addict plot could have been SO much more extended and given us a lot more opportunities to see Buck shirtless and to objectify him and his body. So I find it SO interesting that around the same time as Bobby opening up about his family and his past, we also stop w/ Buck being blatantly shirtless all the time. Narratively, it signals to me the point where the writers moved away from the the typical tv show that will treat their actors like meat, and moved more into a “female gaze” show. And then what’s really interesting to me, is that for Buck, after that, when he has sex w Taylor Kelly in s2, both times we NEVER see him undressed. The second time they don’t get very far, but he’s wearing a buttonable shirt. He absolutely could have been wearing that shirt closed, and she could have opened it, and he could have been wearing nothing underneath it, and we would have seen his chest again in a sexy scenario - but they didn’t. In fact they made the DELIBERATE choice to give him an undershirt. And of course with the first time they cut away and just left us w the understanding that sex was happening, yet again taking away an opportunity to show O.S. at least partially undressed. Which is SO different from how s1 goes about it, where we actually see Buck w his shirt open and his underwear exposed MULTIPLE times. So it’s so incredibly interesting to me that while none of the (main/regular) women’s stories are ever about sex like Buck’s is, I also think it’s REALLY interesting that the objectification of the men was, and could have been, much worse and that they didn’t have to move away from that, but they did.

But then secondly! The very last time we get into a plot that revolves around the men’s bodies specifically is in 2x01, which is SUCH an interesting plot. Surface level - it’s just about the men competing about who’s more attractive, and we get lots of muscle flexing and hot manliness to go along with it. And it is, at a surface level, incredibly shallow. But simultaneously they use it to 1. Introduce the idea that Buck wasn’t a sex addict bc he was “dealing w the stress of the job” like s1 mostly implied. It was bc he’s desperate to feel useful and wanted by someone, and at that point he really wanted that acceptance within the firehouse, rather than from other people. (Bc lbr, Abby didn’t do shit for Buck. It was Bobby, opening up and accepting the family, and specifically Buck, that gave him the connection he’d been seeking through sex.) And then 2. They also use it as an opportunity to SPECIFICALLY, IN CANON, say that it’s what you do that makes you attractive, and that makes you a hero, not how you look. Which is just!!! A crazy message!!! Especially considering they follow through on it, particularly in the areas where the women are concerned!

And in regards to 2x01, it’s soooooo fucking interesting to me that the ONLY time we really truly see Eddie shirtless, he’s actually putting clothes ON. They literally do the opposite trope of 'giving the hot male an excuse to take his shirt off'. And sure, they make it a sexy moment, but there's absolutely interesting commentary there about him actively covering himself up at the moment he is most sexualized, and it being taken as a sexy thing. Something about how you don't have to be naked to be attractive, it's about your intent in your actions, rather than your physical body. (Probably me reading too far into it, but again, they COULD have had him striping off his regular shirt, a good few seconds of him shirtless digging through a bag, and THEN the sexy slow mo pulling shirt on. At the very least, when they objectify him there, they make it MUCH shorter than they could have, which is SO DAMN INTERESTING to me).

But then finally, we still do have shirtless scenes! But the fact that it’s Chim who’s shirtless is just SO FASCINATING. Bc THE WAY THEY DO IT - they're never dunking Chim in a lake, or having something spilled on him, like other shows would do, to get his shirt clinging to him and him to whip it off in a spray of water or whatever. It's in scenes where it makes sense for him to be shirtless, and its NEVER treated like a big deal. It's just Chim, in his body, comfortably living his life. So I think the way they do it gives him more respect than other shows give their male characters, let alone their female characters 💀

And it's SO interesting to me that they use Chim (I mean, besides the fact that K.C. clearly has muscles for days and wow of course you'd use Chim). But I just think - on any other show, it would absolutely be Buck who we see casually shirtless. And that WAS almost this show, which is why we saw him shirtless at all. But failing that, it should have been Eddie. And then of course, after Eddie, it should be Bobby. I mean, plenty of other shows go for the 'sexy middle-aged white man' (cough cough LS) so Bobby would be the next logical step in the "who are we gonna make our hot man?" ladder, also - P.K. has BICEPS THAT COULD CRUSH ME so I would not blame them for making him the hot one.

But - like I said in my tags on my original post - I'm always thinking about Chim's story in 2x01 with the calendar, and feeling like he never gets to be the hero (WHICH I COULD GO ON AND ON ABOUT HOW BEING THE HERO IS EQUATED THERE TO BEING THE HOT ONE, SO LIKE, CHIM BEING SHIRTLESS, SUBTLE REINFORCEMENT OF HIM BEING A HERO!) I love that for him, being the truly hot one on the team. And then you throw in his story from 2x04, and feeling like his life wasn't going anywhere and seeing him now, comfortable in his body and his life and being happy??

I wish no one had to be objectified and shirtless but I know this is broadcast tv, and honestly, the choice for it to be Chim, with his story and his background, in itself is I think a choice that makes me happy.

Of course, the show is nowhere near perfect, and I’d argue that it’s one of the areas they fall shortest in. Buck sleeping w his therapist would never have happened for a woman on this show, and it CERTAINLY wouldn’t have been brushed off again as a joke like it was in s3. And it really bothered me in 4x07 when the lady slapped Eddie’s ass, esp since he was clearly uncomfortable with it. I’d actually really enjoy seeing them write a plot for one of the men that addresses them feeling oversexualized as firefighters, and how people seem to think they have permission since the men are all public employees, bc I think the show could do it really well, and I think it’s an area that hasn’t been addressed on other shows recently (plus lbr I know I’m biased but I think OG would do it better if it has been done…)

So idk. I don’t know if I have a solid conclusion here. The show does SUCH a good job with the women, and a solidly less good job with the men - but I also see some really interesting choices at work that I really respect.

Thanks for the opportunity May, sorry if there was no coherent thread to this. 😂🤷‍♀️

#911 fox #asked and answered #evan buckley #eddie diaz #chimney han #the one area re:the men I think they do super super well in #is the fact that none of them experience or act w any sort of toxic masculinity #we’ve seen all of them cry MULTIPLE times #and they’re comfortable being vulnerable w both men and women #and none of their personalities are built are ‘hello I am a MAN’ #which I really really like and enjoy

[utilitycaster]

You mentioned your opinion of jester changed a lot throughout campaign 2. Do you mind explaining how and why that happened?

Not at all!

I think I put this thought about Jester in my tags on my post about Orym being the “wet blanket” archetype. It’s my opinion that every D&D party needs if not a wet blanket per se, a pragmatic person who is willing to bring up the difficult or dull perspective; and they need a doer, a person who drives the story forward in a believable way. I love doers, and Jester’s story is that of becoming one.

I’m not a big fan of chaos. It doesn’t mean I dislike chaotically aligned characters or that I dislike wacky shenanigans but sometimes they can feel really artificial and forced, in a “uh don’t you have shit to do?” kind of way, especially in a not-explicitly-comedy show like CR; a lot of memes online about D&D leave me, a DM and a die-hard “doer” both in D&D and IRL, absolutely cold because it’s like no actually I don’t want to court chaos, I want to let the dice lay out the chaos for me. I want a good plan that goes awry because of weird rolls, not a plan that was always designed to be ridiculous.

So, unsurprisingly, early Jester, who was very much about chaos for its own sake (even if her reasons for that were valid), who was very sheltered and pampered, very innocently inconsiderate of people around her, and who had a fairly vague goal in mind, was less interesting to me than the more pragmatic Caleb, Fjord, and Beau, or the more clearly goal-oriented Nott, even though everyone in the party engaged in some degree of chaos. By the end, though, Jester was one of the people pushing the party forward and that was a huge factor (as was the incredibly well-acted portrayal of how she got there).

I think the first step towards me liking her more was the first job the group did for the Gentleman in Siff Duthar’s study; that was the point where I feel the Nein truly gelled as a party such that even if there were members I wasn’t as invested in, I still cared about them in the context of the group. For Jester, specifically, after that, it was also her facade slowly crumbling over time. I think her actions caring for the drunk group in Hupperdook and her relationship with Kiri were a strong start, and then obviously the aftermath of the Iron Shepherds affected her - and for that matter Fjord - very deeply. Both of their slow, weird, messy breakdowns over the entire pirates arc, in Jester’s case punctuated by The Gentleman’s dismissal of her, culminating in the aftermath of the dragon fight, pushed her a little more to the forefront in my mind.

I don’t have strong thoughts on the Xhorhas arc (an arc I honestly need to revisit) but Jester’s response to Yasha being taken and her quiet internal growth, her tentative forays into letting the mask slip and expressing negative emotions, and her deliberate attempts to act more mature all made me like her much more throughout the entire Angel of Irons arc, even though one could argue she still was pretty chaotic (see: the downtime in Rexxentrum episode).

The post-hiatus arcs, though, are what made her one of my favorites by the end. I loved her during the entire Artagan reveal/Rumblecusp arc, in which she had to grapple with leadership and immense responsibility. Jester was defined throughout the campaign by a deep love for and loyalty towards her friends, but as a result even her starring moments were often as support (something something utility casters); the cupcake moment was ultimately for Veth. With Rumblecusp she had to deal with betrayal (she never saw Yasha’s departure in that light, even though it was a valid reading) and external expectations far harsher than those of the Nein or her mother, and even the much smaller but still very real experience of having someone just dislike her for no good reason. I know some people dislike the Rumblecusp arc but in many ways I see it as one of the strongest arcs of the show, particularly in terms of character moments and even more particularly for Jester’s character development.

Then comes the final part of the story - Eiselcross, the interlude back in the Empire/Nicodranas/The Plane of Fire, and Aeor. That whole experience is something of a meat grinder for everyone, and the clerics in particular are the ones who I think have the strongest sense of the stakes (Aeor is one of my favorite Caduceus arcs as well for that reason). Jester moves into that role of the doer that she first explored in Rumblecusp - but this time it’s not for the god she has been friends with her entire life, it’s for the fate of the world.

There’s a reason why there’s a throughline in Jester and Fjord’s conversations from very early on about just going away somewhere quiet, as the stakes grow higher and the story gets darker (starting with the conversation on the Mistake shortly after their kidnapping and Molly’s death, continuing through their conversation at the Kiln just after Yasha falls under control, and then in Eiselcross after Jester enters the circle and a little more in the Blooming Grove before their final return to Aeor). Jester always wanted to see the world, but she learns it’s much harsher than she expected, and I loved seeing her come to terms with that and trying to change it rather than trying to avoid it. In the lead-up to the final fight with Lucien, she’s dealing with something she does not expect to survive it but she not only does it anyway but is one of the people pushing the others forward. While the idea of self-sacrifice isn’t a particularly original one in D&D, for Jester specifically to go from where she started to that position is an incredible yet wholly believable journey.

#for bonus points ask me why jester and essek are great narrative foils #critical role #jester lavorre #my other hot takes related to this is that the bailinghams both are the best at showing subtle char change over time by a mile #which isn't a slight on anyone else - more an acknowledgment of a different way of portraying character change #also tbh taliesin is up there which also explains my percy opinions #so maybe not a mile. but like. a kilometer.

[ironwoodprotectionsquad]

just saw a take in the anti-rwde tag so bad i had a whole allergic reaction /hj

it was about how rewrites are NEVER good because it ignore's the writers' work, and that if you make rewrites you never actually enjoyed the content.

like okay, i guess AU writers hate the content they pull from! because AUs do technically count as rewrites, just probably not what OP was thinking of (*cough* fixing rwby *cough*). actually, technically all fanfics are rewrites to some degree! fuck it! everyone who writes fanfic is actively ignoring the writers' hard work! damn!

sorry for disagreeing, but i personally think making rewrites means you're more passionate than if you were to just passively consume the content you were given! because you're putting effort into ignored characters, dropped plot threads, unexplored worldbuilding and lore, etc.! who are you to judge if someone's way of appreciating content is wondering how things could have gone differently, expanding on what the writers' didn't pay attention to? there is NOTHING WRONG with wanting to rewrite something, whether it's because you're just curious about how things could go differently or if you're unsatisfied with what you got. hell, even the rewrites i HATE i still hold some respect for because damn, take it from someone who tried and gave up, making rewrites is HARDDDD, ESPECIALLY for a show like rwby with so many characters and other factors to take into consideration

anyway, sorry for ranting in your askbox lol, i'm just so....jesus christ that take made me MAD.

Hey anon! First off never EVER apologize for ranting in my inbox! I don’t mind, I know sometimes venting out your frustrations can help you feel better. I do that a lot on my blog when something annoys me so I get how therapeutic it can be.

Secondly I have never gone into the anti-rwde tag because I know I would die after a few posts. I will stick to the RWDE and James Ironwood tags where I belong lolZ.

Regarding the meat of this ask, holy shit I just- why just why? How can you look at a show like RWBY that regularly and actively takes things like themes and character arcs and say that someone making a rewrite doesn’t love the original subject? People don’t waste time on things they don’t care about. We have limited free time to do shit we’re not going to waste it working on a project that does absolutely nothing for us.

I have a morbid curiosity for what they think of AUs because how this person describes it, they should be even worse then rewrites because aus fundamentally completely overturn what the original work was. It’s all about taking the characters you love and plopping them in something completely different from their canon universes. It is literally about exploring the infinite possibilities that a universe holds. Personally I almost exclusively write in Aus in anything longer then a one or two shot. They’re just so much more interesting to me to explore because I love seeing how minor things change the bigger picture and what these characters do.

Hey you know everyone is allowed to have their own opinions and they literally don’t hurt anyone just like how rewrites and AU’s aren’t hurting anyone. They’re a way someone expresses their love for whatever it is the rewrite or Au is for just like fanart. Just because their are certain things one would change doesn’t mean they still don’t enjoy the base media the rewrite is for. Their is always something that we love in it what’s why we create for it.

I may not like every rewrite or au or whatever for any fandom I love but I still respect the work put into it because these fics take a lot of work and time and effort and writers do this for free. Their is no way to get any compensation for fic writing yet people do it anyways because they love the thing being written about and this is how they express that love. That whole sentiment is just insane for me and reeks of a mega fan refusing to understand that their precious show might not be perfect and that sometimes people might have a better idea for something. Or even if it isn’t it still has value and these mega fans are just wrong about it not having value. As I said it takes time and effort and people won’t waste time on something they don’t care about or enjoy it helps no one and trying to pretend otherwise is just insane to me.

#rwde #rwby crititical #rwby critique #fans behaving badly #fndm behaving badly #answered ask #anon ask

[lovenhlboys]

From a Distance (E.Pettersson X Reader)

Chapter 1

Masterlist

Tag list form

A/n: hello peoples!! I’m so excited to FINALLY post the first chapter of this fic!!! I’ve been working on it for a long time, and after a few unpleasant delays, it’s finally happening 😁. While this isn’t my first fic, this is my first NHL fic, and the first fic I’m posting on Tumblr, so I’m a little nervous. This first chapter is mostly the set up to the main story, this is reader’s side of things with a flashback story. Chapter two will be mostly from Elias’s point of view. The rest of the chapters will switch back and fourth between the two.

CREDIT: Finally, before we get started I have to shout out my proofreaders. Y’all put up with me and my insanity: @siriushxney @iateyourdonuts @petey-patty @hufflepuff-girlx @cherrylita @immmbabyyygraceee @💕💕And specifically @imagines-r-s ASH!!! Babes, you have been the best and most supportive friend I could’ve asked for during this. You boosted my confidence about this fic and I have no idea what I’d do without you 😁😁

Without further ado, let’s get started shall we!! (Sorry for the long A/N, it’ll only be for this first chapter)

Paring: Elias Pettersson X Fem!Reader

Warnings: lots of cursing, friends with benefits but like...just cuddling???, references to iCarly, mentions of One Tree Hill.

Genere: enemies-ish —>friends —> lovers

Legend: (i suggest having these ready before you read)

Y/C/N/N= your cute nick name, only Markstrom calls you it (you’ll see why) this can be either a pet name you like, or a nick name you already have.

Y/N/N= your nick name, Brock, Quinn, and a few others call you this, it’s more of a playful name. Again, this can be a nickname you already have (if you don’t have one I suggest something stupid (sounds like something Stech or Brock would come up with)

Y/N= this is your first name, only Elias calls you this unless it’s a serious situation, or you’re in trouble, or Brock is being an ass. (If it wasn’t clear before...your last name is Boeser)

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: you have a hardcore crush on your brothers best friend, who also happens to barely speak to you...it’s a slight predicament.

--------------------------

(This is set in the 2021 season, however, because of my denial, Marky and Stech are still in Vancouver and were never traded... also no Covid. however the season was still delayed just to make it easier to follow.)

Present (Feb. 2021)

You’ve always been best friends with your older brother, you never had any real issues when you were younger and you were inseparable. So much so in fact, that once you graduated early a little less than two years ago (June 2019), he asked you to move to Vancouver and live with him. He was always so protective of you and you appreciated everything he has done in your life. One of the best parts about Brock being your older brother was the people he introduced to you. You aren’t very social and god knows how much of a people person your brother is. Once you had moved in, Brock quickly introduced you to the team. And with your double major in Statistics: Data Sciences and Sports Management, you were able to secure a job with the team. Quickly, you found yourself with a second family, one with many members.

Quinn Hughes is your best friend. when you met him about a year and a half ago, you hit it off immediately. With both of you being the same age and not very social, there was an obvious connection there. When Brock and The boys  go out, it is you and Quinn who stay in and watch shows on the couch (your favorite being New Girl). Huggy Bear is so sweet and you tell him EVERYTHING, even things you’d never tell your brother. You are still thanking the draft lottery every day that the Canucks received the 7th overall pick that gave you your bestie.

Thatcher Demko AKA Dems AKA Thatch AKA baby goalie is the sweetest and most hilarious guy you know. He is always looking after you just like Brock, but he is also one of the most annoying guys you know. When you’d first met you had the biggest crush on him. You told Quinn as much and he gave you so much shit for it. That crush was short-lived though, once you found out how obnoxious he could be. You still love him, just as a friend. Though Quinn never forgets to remind you of the crush that once was.

Bo Horvat is like another big brother to you. Sure you have Brock, but he’s your best friend. Bo, however, is the person you go to when you needed advice. Holly is one of the only WAGs you’ve become close with. She and you consistently have wine and gossip nights, of which Quinn is sometimes in attendance. Plus, you and Quinn are an amazing babysitting team for Gunnar if you have anything to say about it. 

Troy Stecher is the annoying older brother you never had. He always makes fun of you, calls you names, and bullies you in the loving way brothers do. And he never hesitates to come to you if he ever needs girl advice, which seems to happen a lot.

JT was just like Bo, except he is waaay more protective of you, maybe even a bit more than brock. He doesn’t have a sister and when you met, he made it his job to never see you get hurt. Seriously, one day a guy was bugging you at the bar, and both Brock and Bo were struggling to hold him back when he saw him slap you on the ass as you walked away. 

Jacob Markstrom, AKA Marky, AKA Giraffe (pronounced like it is in one of your favorite vines), AKA your cuddle buddy for the past few seasons. Both being single, you felt lonely sometimes and Quinn wasn’t much of a hugger (despite what the nickname might have you believe). Thatcher had offered but Marky, though just as social, is much more laid back. It also helps that he is 6’6 putting him over a foot taller than you. So during movie nights, or late nights at the bar, he is the side you lean on. Of course, you made it abundantly clear to most of the boys and yourselves that you were just friends. As sweet as he was and as great of a boyfriend as he would’ve been, he wasn’t quite your type and your personalities clashed.

Then there was Elias Pettersson, the tall, skinny, Swedish guy you knew as Petey. The guy who looked at you often and barely spoke a word directed towards you. He was Brock's best friend and he came over all the time, you didn’t have an issue with him, and you couldn’t deny he was funny, and from what you’ve heard he is a very kind person. So naturally, he was exactly your type. You’ve had a massive crush on him for a while now, somehow despite the lack of conversation. And the few times he has talked to you, he’s seemed so perfect, but there are only a few times you can remember. 

Right now, as you're on your way to the Canuck’s break room your brother texted you to meet him in, you try to recall those few times, specifically the one where your crush on him truly developed.

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FLASHBACK (some time in January, 2020)

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You, Quinn, and Jacob were laying on the L-shaped couch in ‘The Boeser apartment’, you were cuddled under the blanket with Jacob, laying on the section perpendicular to the TV, your heads at the corner. Quinn was on the other side of the couch, his head right next to yours. it was about 7 o’clock and the episode of One Tree Hill you were watching had just ended and you three had not eaten dinner yet. As the countdown for the next episode started, your stomach growled and you got a look from Quinn and a giggle from Jacob. 

“You hungry Y/C/N/N?” Jacob asked.

You looked up at him and giggled, “maybe just a little bit.”

“Y/N/N, you know what sounds amazing?” Quinn asked, you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You turned to each other and you both smirked knowing you were thinking the same thing.

“Spaghetti tacos!!” You both said. 

Ever since you were about 10 and you watched iCarly on TV, you had always wanted to try them. It had become an inside joke between you and Quinn for quite some time as he had the same desire as you to see how good they actually were.

“We should totally try them tonight!!” Quinn was quite excited.

“I’m so confused right now,” Jacob chimed in.

“They’re from a show! They take spaghetti and put it in taco shells,” you explained.

“Ahh, hence the name.” he nodded.

“Exactly,” Quinn said.

You jumped up from the couch excitedly and ran straight to your kitchen.

“Ok, we have spaghetti, spaghetti sauce, ground beef, taco shells, aaaand..... by chance do either of you know how to make good meatballs?”

“You’re asking the Swedish guy if he knows how to make meatballs?” Jacob replied.

“Not Swedish meatballs, Italian, stupid Giraffe,” you retorted. 

“Gross,” he said with a disgusted look.

“Ooo my mom made the best Italian meatballs, let me call her to see if she can send me the recipe!” Quinn said with a big smile.

Quinn exited the kitchen and ran to your room to call his mom. 

“You know, I’ve never seen him so excited about anything,” Marky said with a laugh. 

“Quinn loves his food,” you replied.

“Are Brock and Thatch having dinner with us ?”

“I’ll ask.”

You started boiling the water for the pasta, and you cooked part of the ground beef for the meat sauce. Then you texted Brock:

Y/N/N: hey, you want me to make you dinner

Brock: Yeah, who all is there?

Y/N/N: the usual

Brock: Huggy and Marky?

Y/N/N: yep, so do you want some?

Brock: Yeah, and make enough for another person too

Y/N/N: ok

You figured it was Dems since that’s who he went to hang out with when he left 5 hours ago. 

You continued to cook when Quinn came in and grabbed a bunch of stuff from the pantry and cabinets. “Did your mom tell you how to make them?” you questioned your frantic best friend.

“Yes she did and she sent me the recipe too.”

“Coolio,” you reply.

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You were almost done cooking, the pasta was done, Quinn had put his meatballs in the oven and there were only 5 minutes left on the timer. And the sauce had about 2 minutes to simmer.

“Oh my gosh, I forgot what to do when they're almost done, she does this thing, I have to call her,” Quinn said with a panicked look on his face. He ran back to your room.

The front door to your apartment opened quickly, both boys laughing, “ahh, shit,  my brother’s calling me,” Brock said as he ran back to his room.

“Why does everyone feel the need to exit the room for phone calls?” you asked Jacob.

He shrugged with a giggle, “I don't know, maybe they don’t trust us,” he said in a sarcastically dramatic tone grasping his chest.

The door closed slowly and you glanced at the doorway where you thought you’d see the ever adorable goalie, Thatcher Demko, instead, you saw the adorable, slender, tall blonde you’d seen all the time, but never had a one on one interaction with... except the first time you met, when he told you that you looked pretty.

“Hi, Petey!” Jacob said as he slipped behind you to watch you mix the sauce, he stood over you looking at the sauce and put his hand on your waist.

“Hi,” he replied, his smile from before had faded.

“Looks so good Y/C/N/N,” Jacob said with a kiss on your cheek, a regular action. 

“Thanks, Giraffe, can you grab the taco shells?”

He grabbed them easily from the top shelf (tall ass bitch -_-), and moved behind you, placing his hands on your waist yet again, to move you to the side. “I've gotta run to the bathroom, but I’ll be right back”

“Ok, you have fun with that,” you said with a wink.

Suddenly, was only you and Elias in the room, and the silence was deafening.

“So what are we eating?” he said, pulling your attention to his bright blue eyes.

“Um, spaghetti tacos, they're from a tv sho-”

“Like from iCarly?” he interrupted.

“...Uh yeah? How'd you know?” you couldnt pull your attention away from his eyes, ‘they are just so beautiful,’ you thought somehow you hadnt noticed this within the on and a half years you’d known him.

“We also get Nickelodeon, you know,” he said while throwing you a smirk that made your stomach flip. 

“Oh, I didn't know that,” you replied, feeling just a little embarrassed. 

“iCarly was my favorite, actually.” 

“Yeah, it was mine too,” you said, smiling back, looking at the way he just lit up your kitchen with his presence.

You both stood there for a second just looking at the other, “So how long have-,” he started.

“OKAY,” Quinn unknowingly interrupted, “so she told me what to do, turns out I have to put sauce over them for the last 2 minutes, so Y/N/N can you just put a tablespoon of sauce on each ball then put them back in for two minutes?” 

“Yeah of course. Elias, you were saying?” you looked back at the Swede.

“Oh it's nothing,” he looked down at his shoes. 

“Ok, Y/N/N you need to call mom and tell her we’re fine and that she doesn't need to worry about us please, Paul says she’s stressing,” Brock said as he entered the room.

“When is she not stressing about us? I’ll call her after dinner, how's dad?”

“Doin’ good, nothing has changed or progressed or whatever since we were home last,” Brock moved and sat on the couch letting out a big sigh.

“That’s good,” you let out a sigh.

“Petey, come here, we’re watching Gossip Girl” Brock shouted at the Swede.

“Ooo what episode are you guys on?” you asked. Brock had mentioned how he was making him watch the show you two had watched about 5 times together. 

“Just after Chuck gets Dan kidnapped at Yale.” 

“Oh so you still hate Chuck?” you asked Elias.

“Ew, yeah...wait is that gonna change?” Petey said with a scoff.

“Uh....,” you stalled.

“Y/N shut up, don't spoil it,” Brock interrupted before you could make it worse.

“Ok well, dinner is ready so just start the show after and we can all watch it together.”

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“Oh my god, these are actually amazing,” Quinn said with his mouth full.

“I know, I did not think this was gonna taste good,” Jacob added.

“Hey!” you said, offended.

“Y/C/N/N, you know I love your cooking, it was the idea of the meal that I doubted,” Jacob said leaning into your side and putting his arm around your shoulder.

“Mmmhmm, suuure,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Hallå Marky, ni två är söta (hey Marky, you two are cute),” Petey said, confusing you, Quinn and Brock with the sudden change in language.

Jacob, being oblivious to what Petey was implying, just said, “tack broder (thanks, bro).”

Little did you know what was going on in Elias’s head.

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PRESENT

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Before that night, you never really thought of Elias in a romantic way. You'd been around him quite a lot, seeing as how, seemingly, is in your apartment more than his own. Sure, you knew he was cute and very sweet from what you'd seen, but up until that point, you'd never had a one-on-one interaction with him. That interaction, however small, was the beginning of an obsessive crush. Quinn was the first to point it out, you started listening closely any time he talked, attempting to converse with him, and thinking about him on a daily basis even when you didn't see him. And due to your stubbornness, no matter how unrequited your crush seemed, it never faltered. You had always thought he hated you, or maybe he just tolerated you because you were Brock’s sister, and you were always around. 

However, that couldn't be farther from the truth.

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Tag list: @calgarycanuck @suffering-canucks-fan

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