#stops by the pool with the kids as often as ‘normally’ possible

[amomentsescape]

I love your writing! Could I possibly get a Slasher X reader. One of the Reader ending up in the hospital for whatever reason. It could be over sickness or getting injured/hunt.

Slashers React to Reader Ending Up in the Hospital

Slashers x Reader (Separate)

Warnings: Mentions of injury, illness, and killings

A/N: Thank you so much! Some of the Slashers were written outside of the hospital setting since I don't think all of them would be comfortable stepping out into public. I hope you still enjoy though!

Freddy Krueger

Freddy decided to pay you a visit in the real world when he hadn't heard from you in a few days

It wasn't like you to not say anything, and he was starting to get worried

But when he checked into your bedroom and found you nowhere in sight, he quite literally freaked out

(He may have visited some of your friends that night and threatened them to find out where you were)

When he finally found you in the hospital, he was even more worried

You could barely talk and your eyes were horribly bloodshot

It was only when you began coughing did he realize what was going on

"I haven't been able to close my eyes for more than 20 minutes without coughing" you hoarsely whispered to him

Despite wanting to take you back home with him, he knew better

He wasn't exactly a doctor, and he cared more about you getting better than you visiting him

So he let you be

He did help you with falling asleep though

And he visited you every night until you got better

He killed a couple nurses that he stated weren't taking care of you well enough though

Michael Myers

Yeah, he's pissed

He comes home, and you're not there?

Livid

Mostly at the idea that something happened to you, but he won't admit that the idea of you leaving him may have crossed his mind a couple times

But when he finds a note stating you were going to get yourself checked out at the hospital, he immediately heads out without a second thought

You have no idea how, but he sneaks in without anyone noticing him?

He immediately rips the blanket off of you and scans your body, trying to pinpoint what is wrong

It's only when he sees your bandaged leg that he meets your eyes

"I was trying to clean your knife, and it slipped..." you said like a kid about to be scolded

He shook his head at you and then lifted you into his arms, carrying you out of the room

While walking out, you happen to notice several dead bodies laying on the ground, blood pooling around them

Ah, so that's how he got in

Jason Voorhees

It was after the 5th night of not being able to breathe fully that you gave in, deciding to go to the hospital

You told Jason it would be super quick, but after a few hours, you still hadn't returned

Instead of just waiting a little longer like a normal person, Jason assumed that something terrible had happened and decided to make a public appearance

(Something he doesn't do often)

He headed into town and located the nearest hospital

Luckily, it was late by now, and the hospital wasn't quite as busy as normal

When he stepped inside, he just slammed down a piece of paper with your name on it, the front desk worker frantically typing in the computer

With how Jason looked and the size of his machete in tow, nobody even bothered to question him

When he was finally pointed to your room, he immediately picked you up and walked back out with you

After finding your doctor and making them give him your prescriptions, he was off to take you back home with him

He wouldn't dare spend even a single night without you

Thomas Hewitt

With the amount of meat hooks, knives, and scrapped bones around, it was a surprise you hadn't gotten into an accident sooner

You were a pretty clumsy person in general, so when you stumbled over a little dip in the tile floor of the kitchen, you instinctively reached your hand out to stop yourself

You managed to not hit the ground, but you sacrificed the palm of your hand in the process

A large butcher's knife was sitting on the counter, and it had sliced right into your skin

Thomas was rushing to your side in a hurry, frantically smooshing towels onto your wound to stop the bleeding

Despite his protests, you insisted on going to get looked at in the hospital

You were certain your hand was going to need stitches

While you were out, he just sat on the couch the whole time, staring at the wall

You promised to be back later, and so he trusted you

But there was no way he was going to be productive with you gone

Once were finally back, Thomas was quick to give you princess treatment

He makes you lay in bed while he brings you food, treats, and cuddles

He'll be watching you like a hawk for the weeks to come, that's for sure

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba was quite literally hanging onto your ankles as you tried to make your way through the door

He was blubbering like crazy

But this stomach flu you've been dealing with was making you miserable

You needed some type of medicine to sort yourself out, although Bubba disagreed

You told him you'd be back soon before giving one last shake and running out the door, leaving Bubba whining after you

He was yelling at basically everything and everyone, frantically storming around the house until you came back

He knew he wouldn't be able to go with you, but he hated you going anywhere by yourself

He was only calm again when you walked back through the door a couple hours later, some weird looking pills in hand

He'd be all over you after that, refusing to even let you go to the bathroom by yourself

And unfortunately for him, this attachment to you resulted in him waking up with the same stomach pains you had just a day later

At least you still had some medicine left, right?

Brahms Heelshire

So there's no way in hell Brahms would ever let you go to the hospital

When you accidentally tripped on the stairs, knocking yourself unconscious during the fall, Brahms was going through a mental breakdown

He didn't know how to help you

And despite all the shaking and slaps he could muster, nothing would wake you up

He finally gave up and decided to call 911

When the ambulance showed up, they were met with a grisly surprise

One of the medics was immediately killed upon entry, and the other was held at knife point, forced to call back and say everything was fine

Brahms then forced them to help you, watching their every move

It was only once your eyes fluttered open that his body relaxed

He quickly disposed of the other medic, immediately tending to you

But don't worry, Brahms would deal with the bodies and the ambulance later

He did it for you after all

Norman Bates

It was actually Norman's idea for you to go to the hospital in the first place

It wasn't like you to be dealing with a cold for this long, and he was beginning to get worried

He happily drove you there, patiently sitting in the waiting room as the doctor took you back to check you out

With a couple prescriptions (and a hefty payment) later, you were back at home with him, relaxing in bed

Norman made sure you always had some tea to drink and soup to eat throughout the night

He even ran the bath for you in hopes of opening your sinuses

He just seems like a normal, doting partner

But if the medicine doesn't seem to help soon, Norman supposes he may need to pay the doctor another visit...

Just to talk things over, of course

Billy Loomis

It's just a little cut, why do you need to go to the hospital?

You shouldn't have been playing with his knife in general

He told you it was dangerous

But he can take care of you himself, he's sure of it

But when he finds you gone just a few minutes later, he immediately becomes tense

Great

With a loud sigh and a few curse words later, Billy is out the door and driving after you

When he makes it to the hospital, he just storms inside

He ignores all the calls from staff to "come back" and to "not go in there"

He finds you talking with the doctor, a look of shock on your face

(You're not exactly sure how he knew which room you were in)

"Are we done here?" Billy grumbles

"You shouldn't be back here"

Billy rolls his eyes at the doctor

"Does it look like I give a shit?"

And with that he, grabs your hand and walks you out, being mindful of your bandaged arm

You're still not sure how you haven't received a bill from the hospital yet

In fact, you haven't heard back from the doctor at all in the past few days

Huh, weird

Stu Macher

Nothing about Stu is calm... ever

So the moment he realizes you aren't home at your normal time, he flips

Probably tries to call and text you numerous times

He even calls Billy who's like "how am I supposed to know??"

When you finally send a text back saying that you went to the doctor's, he quickly responds back saying he's coming to get you

He storms into the hospital like he owns the place, immediately asking the staff where you were

If any of them refuse, he gives them a wicked smile that makes them all uncomfortable

They give in quickly

Stu suddenly barges into your room asking "what's wrong" and "who hurt you?"

You almost laugh at his worry since all that happened was you falling due to being clumsy

He just sighs and shakes his head

"You should have called me"

Once you're all ready to go, he just walks out with you with your arm wrapped in his

He says goodbye to all the staff like nothing ever happened, but they all look a bit fearful

Eric Draven

After fighting with the flu for a good week, Eric decides he should take you to get checked out

Despite your protests, he insists he needs to take you and stay with you (just to make sure they hear you out and give you what you need)

Eric wouldn't hurt or threaten any of the hospital staff, but his presence alone is enough to make them feel intimidated

You're practically in and out within just 20 minutes

"That wasn't so bad, right?" he teased

You just give him a little shove

He pretty much dotes on you for the time being until you get better

Unlike most of the Slashers, Eric has no issues with you going to the occasional doctor's visit

He cares a great deal about your health and always wants what's best for you

#slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers headcanon #slashers preference #slashers #michael myers headcanons #michael myers x reader #michael myers #halloween #halloween movie #jason voorhees headcanons #jason voorhees x reader #jason voorhees #friday the 13th #friday the thirteenth #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire headcanon #the boy 2016 #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis headcanon #billy loomis #stu macher x reader #stu macher #stu macher headcanons #scream movie

[tired-biscuit]

I just saw your drabble about kiba’s family smelling the fuck on you……what about baby fever Kiba that can smell you ovulating and you don’t know what’s gotten into him

the way you got me kicking my feet into the air with this ask, omg!! <3

18+ mdni, fem!reader / cw: breeding

i think he'd have the urge to breed you and knock you up pretty early in the relationship, like right from the very start. better yet, even if you're nothing but friends and he secretly fancies you, he's still thinking about it, considering it even, because he can smell whenever you're in your "child bearing prime" whether he wants to or not, and it's literally driving him fucking insane.

but being the respectful man that he is, bless him and his mother, he knows that it's not usually the way these things go; that social norms say that partners should probably get to know each other a little bit better and grow closer before starting families.

so he takes it down a notch when you become his girlfriend. of course he does.

i mean, he doesn't want to scare you away by forcing you to get so serious with him so soon, so what else can he do than tuck away that animalistic side of him - the one that's a pretty common trait to have in his clan - and say that he's completely fine with going super slow, that he's a-okay with using protection? hell, he even goes as far as to pretend that the sweet change in your scent which your ovulation causes doesn't faze him every month, even if it makes his goddamn skin feel like it's on fire.

and sure, he enjoys getting to know you better, settling down with you slowly and taking it easy, but the urge to fuck his kids into you just won't go away. it grows peskier and peskier with each passing week, month, year. it's in his blood after all, he can't possibly do anything about it; it's just the way he's programmed.

so i think - despite the precautions - he'd sort of loosen up and start hinting at it pretty early, after like a year or so. it'd start off innocent enough, like he'd just be talking about your future and stuff like that. but then your cycle comes to the ovulation part again, and all of a sudden he doesn't mind showing how it affects him as well. how clingy it makes him. how touchy he gets during it. how needy.

he follows you around the house during those days and constantly keeps you close. fucks you way more often. develops a daddy kink (or finally allows you to see it, who knows) and makes sex last longer; his dick buried so deep inside of you that you feel like you're going to fucking burst because of the mating press he insists holding you in despite that you aren't even mating technically (sadly) because of the condom that you make him wear.

he does admit at some point that the scent attracts him after you start questioning his sudden change in behaviour. he even tells you that he's grown so comfortable around you by now that he can't bother to hide it anymore. and well, it makes sense for him and his abilities, so you're not all that surprised when he's brushing against you in the kitchen when you're all hormonal once again next month; feeling his hands as he slowly drags them up and down your sides, while the bulge in his sweatpants presses against your ass in a way that makes heat pool between your legs.

however, something is different this time around. he doesn't stop tugging at your leggings when you remind him that he should go grab a rubber if he plans to fuck you on the kitchen counter. no, instead of running to the bedroom like he normally does, he just pushes his hips further into your own, and tells you that perhaps he wants to fuck you right here and now. that he's positive that you'd like it; that he knows you oh, just so well.

"c'mon," he says. "what's a lil' risk, mm?"

and you giggle at that, a faint blush searing your face because you think he's just joking, that he's just messing around with you like he has a habit of doing, but he still isn't moving. he just rests his chin against your shoulder, his sensitive nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, as he sighs and tells you again how good you smell right at that moment. how sweet the scent is. how appealing it is.

and then one thing leads to another because you're hormonal and needy too, even more than he is if that is even possible. your panties are literally constantly soaked and your poor pussy needs to be taken care of, he knows it, so it's not even shocking that he manages to bend you over the counter and fuck the shit out of you completely raw as your toes curl in your little fuzzy socks and your eyes squeeze shut because of the realisation; because of the risk.

so you tell him, through broken moans and quick gasps, that he's not allowed to cum inside and that this is the only time you're risking it like this. and he agrees. he pulls out the last second - hesitantly, yes, but he does - and cums on your lower back instead, trying to ignore the way he felt your tight hole fluttering with intention to milk him dry.

and that's that.

well, for the most part.

because ever since then, you're getting raw-dogged every other night and are literally begging him to fill you up during your dazed state, because, well, it feels so good. because it's so fucking good and rewarding to see him be so into it; to be so into you. he's been passionate before, but this is on an entirely different level.

he's literally whispering the dirtiest shit into your ear as he breeds you, all focused and with eyes so fierce that they could burn holes through you. is telling you how good your pussy feels when it's soaking wet like this, that he can smell how urgently it needs him, and that he's just so fucking happy that he gets to experience it entirely at long last.

he's even calling you his pretty mate, how proud he is of you, how you're such a good girl for being willing to take his load, how he wants you to make him a daddy and to let him fill you up over and over again, until you're leaking his cum and are pregnant with his babies because he wants you, and he wants to have a family with you, and he just wants and wants and wants.

he's been wanting for all this time. a year and a couple of months of waiting may not seem like a long time for some, but for a man like him, it could have been considered as absolute torture.

so you suppose it's understandable why he turns sort of delirious when he at long last gets to fuck your pretty little cunt completely raw and spill everything he's got right into it. right to the very last drop, he'll even bend your legs flush against your chest just so that he can make sure his seed sticks.

it's just pure instinct. it's who he is.

and it makes him simply overjoyed that you finally understand.

#kiba x reader #kiba smut #naruto smut #biscuit drabbles #everybody say thank u anon <3

[moonstruckme]

so requests are open again, can i así for a Robin fic where she tries to ask Reader out but she is really nervous and all cute?

Thanks for requesting babe!

Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

You have no idea how Robin managed to get Keith to let three of you work the Saturday shift, but you owe her your life for it. 

Normally, you end up by yourself, uneventful weekday nights where you organize and reorganize the clearance section, talking to yourself since the last time you brought a book and Keith’s boss caught you on the cameras you got chewed out. 

Robin and Steve have a routine of their own. They pulled a hidden stock of snacks out of the break room, gossipped about who had borrowed what movies for how long and what that meant, made up ridiculous life stories for the customers that came in. Then Dustin had come over and Robin had relegated the boys to the back room. You like Steve, but you’re not mad about it; having Robin all to yourself makes your stomach do flips like it does on a rollercoaster. 

“Okay,” she says in a low voice, eyes tracking a customer who’s just wandered into the teen section. You’ve hopped up on the counter, sitting with your back to the door and your legs dangling, and her elbow is about three inches from touching your thigh. “The guy in the tank top. What do we think about him?” 

“He looks like he just rolled out of bed.” Which isn’t unreasonable, because it’s only ten. “Who comes to rent a movie first thing in the morning?” 

“Someone desperate,” Robin agrees. You’re both leaning in as you talk in near-whispers, but that distance between her arm and your leg stays. 

You hum. “He could have kids.” 

“Does he really look like someone who has kids?” 

“I don’t know what people who have kids look like. I guess there’s probably a variety.” 

“Fair…” She kisses her teeth as she watches him, big eyes narrowed sneakily. “I don’t know, I think he’s horny.” 

Your laugh is so loud and sudden you have to clamp a hand over your mouth. A customer browsing near you gives you an odd look, and you murmur an apology. Robin looks delighted. 

“Why would you think that?” you hiss at her. “He’s just looking for a movie.” 

Her expressions turns sheepish, complete with a cute half-smile that makes your brain buzz distractingly. “It’s possible I have some information you don’t.” 

You lean back on your hands and tilt your head, looking at her curiously. 

Robin leans in close. “He rented Fast Times five days ago and hasn’t returned it.” 

Her eyes are sparkling with amusement. With great effort you tear your gaze from them, looking past her at the man. “Oh,” you say, “yeah, I see it. He looks like he hasn’t shaved in days. I’ll bet he’s been locked in his mom’s basement watching the pool scene on repeat.” 

She turns her head down toward your leg to hide a smile, and her laugh tickles down your spine like a grazing touch. You have to trap your bottom lip between your teeth to keep your own grin from getting too out of hand. 

“This is fun,” you blurt. Or, it feels like a blurt, but Robin doesn’t seem to note your abruptness, only turning her eyes up to yours curiously. “Hanging out, I mean. I wish we worked the same shifts more often.” 

“Yeah, I—it is fun.” Robin’s smile gets a funny look to it, her gaze flitting down to the counter. “I’d rather work with you than Steve anytime. Not that you’re, like, only just better than Steve, obviously you’re tons better than him, I just meant that—Steve, he’s actually not terrible, I mean he’s probably my best friend, and he and I hang out outside work all the time, so—” She presses her lips together as if physically stopping herself. You chew your bottom lip. “Basically, I like hanging out with you even more than him, which is…not as low a bar as you might think.” 

“I don’t think that’s a low bar,” you say through a smile. “Steve seems cool.”

She scoffs. “He’s not. Don’t let him think you think that.” 

“He seems nice, I mean. Nicer than he was in high school.” 

“Exactly.” Robin lifts her stare to yours again, something like relief in it. “Yeah, he’s…better. He, like, had a spiritual change or something.” 

“Maybe he found good influences.” You nudge her leg with the toe of your shoe. She makes a scratchy laughing sound, looking away from you again. 

“We hang out a lot outside of work,” she says.

“You mentioned that.” 

“We could try that.” 

You blink, her candor cutting through the light and flirty feeling you’ve fallen into like a knife. 

“You and me?” 

“Yeah.” Her eyes find yours. “Like, if you wanted to hang out more, we don’t have to—I mean, we could, totally, we just don’t have to—do it here. At the store.” Her throat bobs so quick you almost miss it. Your chest feels tight, but not entirely unpleasantly. “We could go to the movies, or to get pizza, or to the roller rink—I don’t actually really know what you like to do, but you have to like movies, right? We could definitely watch a movie.”

There’s a commotion in your stomach. You want to look down and check again the distance between her arm and your thigh, but for some reason now it feels like too much of a risk. “Like, with Steve?” you ask. 

Robin’s nose wrinkles. “Definitely not with Steve.” 

“So, just us.” 

In the corner of your eye, you see her hands flex on the countertop. “If you want,” she says quietly. 

You wet your lips. When you take a second too long to answer, she goes on, “Or we could totally invite other people, if that’s what you want to do.” 

“No,” you say quickly. “Just us is…is good.” 

“Really?” Robin sounds so surprised you can’t help but smile. She smiles back, tentatively, like she’s not one-hundred percent sure if she’s in on the joke but she’s happy if you’re happy. 

“Yeah.” You lower your voice, glancing around the store. You’d nearly forgotten you were in public. You think for a second you catch Steve looking, but he directs his stare to the movies he’s organizing, smiling to himself and waving off something Dustin’s said. “I’m not doing anything tomorrow, if you want to see what’s showing then.” 

Robin grins, huge and heart-stutteringly pretty. It shows all her teeth and little lines shoot out from her eyes like rays of sunshine. “Do you like thrillers?” 

“Sure.” No. 

She leans forward conspiratorially, and it takes every ounce of willpower you possess not to look down when you feel her skin make contact with the side of your thigh. Your heart starts beating hummingbird fast. “Perfect.” 

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x self insert #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fic #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley scenario #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley oneshot #robin buckley one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader

[l0ngpiiig]

Im normal

warning: violence

I’m normal. I swear I am. sure I have issues, but i mean who doesn’t? Maybe it was my childhood that created my odd sense in my mind that makes me repeat the words over and over again. I’m normal, I’m normal. I am normal. Maybe it was the fact I was neglected as a child, always getting yelled at with out reason and tought to sit their and take it. No matter how bad it got, even to the point i was crying they wouldn’t stop yelling. One time, one time in my life my mother stood up for me. Eh.. enough about that. Who knows it could’ve been the fact i was forced into a relationship by my friends in fith grade. Well where ever those issues came from it didn’t help with my odd thoughts or feelings towards other people. Romantic feelings in specific, don’t get me wrong i want a relationship but what are you supposed to feel? love? love is imaginary it’s a fake concept surrounded by people who just want to coexisted together. Love can rip out your heart, it has mine. I mean, I want to love, i want a family it’s not my fault i want to be alone when i wake up. Speaking of love their was this man, he was sweet. We talked often, he was one of my closest friends i ever had. I didn’t love Redgie, that was his name. I did have a bit of a crush on him at one point for multiple years. He was sweet at first he went sour like opposite of sour patch kids. Everything he did grew annoying it was like an overwhelming sent. I wanted him to stay away from me but he kept coming back it was annoying, he was annoying. He constantly pestered me, i just wanted to be alone. Taylor this taylor that SHUT UP. GOSH DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I JUST WANTED TO RIP OUT HIS TONGUE AND SEW HIS MOUTH SHUT SO HE COULD NEVER TALK AGAIN. I would’ve ripped his jaw off if i had to, those shreaks of pain would be worth it to not hear his stupid voice again. But i swear im normal those are normal thoughts.. right? We went on a trip in the fall to this cabin up in the mountains just me and him. I mean we always did.. but this time i couldn’t handle it. i was done with his shit. who did he think he was piling onto my insecurities? I had enough. I was tired and fed up but when i saw the fear in his eyes as his pocket knife was pointed at his juglar it was all worth it. The pleads grew weary i almost felt bad my hand plunged without a thought in my mind. A gasp came through his mouth with a silent “why?” I watched as his hands tried to pry the knife with his name on it away from his neck. the blood spewed from his neck pouring down his shirt and spraying from each jab. Droplets of blood splatter my glasses and the floor. I lay him slowly down onto the floor creating a pool of blood. I cleaned the handle of knife placing it into his hand as carefully as possible. As the farmiliar sound of police sirens filled my head. “Taylor” a voice says behind me. It was Redgie. My head shook snapping out of my odd state. Not again.

#fiction #delusional

[peachiekeeeen]

inazuma girls + university au hcs

sayu

sleeps through almost all lectures but still manages to make good grades

way shorter than average, has to strike a balance between sitting up front so she can see and sitting in the back so she can nap

has been doing martial arts since she was a kid

big fan of ninja stories; favorite anime is naruto

outside of class, she can usually be found up a tree, napping or studying

her favorite animal is badgers, she saw one on the quad one time and almost cried

brings a badger stuffed animal everywhere with her for comfort

the salad from the salad bar in the dining hall is the bane of her existence

she’s surprisingly strong for her height, which people discovered when a professor enlisted her to help move a filing cabinet

senses are easily overwhelmed, so she stays away from the dining hall and the common areas when she can

teases anyone and everyone good-naturedly

didn’t have a lot of friends growing up and struggles to keep up friendships even now

her academic advisor is absolutely devastated by her slacking

constantly munching on onigiri

tries to do yoga in the mornings, but she oversleeps and forgets a lot of the time

has this uncanny ability not to startle animals, which makes her a favorite with photographers on campus

got fired from her job at the university library for ditching

in case of a real crisis (such as when her dorm caught fire), she can often be seen running across campus as fast as her tiny legs can carry her

kamisato ayaka

majoring in politics and minoring in dance

collects ornate paper fans

loves floral foods, particularly sweets, and has a soft spot for mochi

works at the campus coffee shop

absolutely loves tea and will try any variety of it that she comes across

got a book on reading tea leaves to see her fortune when she was in high school, and she secretly applies its techniques when she drinks tea

comes from a rich old family

not very good at making friends

favorite colors are royal blue and gold

affectionately nicknamed “princess” by her classmates

uses the kitchens in her dorm late at night to make snacks when she can’t sleep, and offers it to other sleepless students if she sees them

had some of her poetry displayed in the student newspaper after winning a poetry contest

is considered a talented fencer, and is a member of the university’s fencing club

favorite animals are cranes, herons, and egrets, and can often be seen feeding them near the lake

practices calligraphy in her spare time

enjoys studying during thunderstorms

stops by the chess club for a game sometimes

gets embarrassed if someone catches her swimming in the pool or just coming out of the showers

enjoys going to kabuki dance performances, and has dabbled in it herself

grows camellias in her garden at home, and wears camellia perfume

kuki shinobu

was supposed to study religion, but it didn’t appeal to her and so she’s taking classes in everything but that (and is annoyingly good at everything she tries)

leaning towards studying law, but wants to try everything so she can be sure

diy-s omurice from the dining hall whenever possible

doesn’t talk to her parents much; most of her tuition comes from scholarships and money she earned on her own

widely known as the only normal one in her friend group

tends to wear a face mask off-campus to keep from getting sick

mistrustful of recognition technology, never allows fingerprint or face id on her phone and types her password in every time

spent a couple semesters abroad before returning to campus

certified as an emergency medical technician

once knocked out someone who tried to pick her pockets in the convenience store

can easily be hired to do small jobs on campus for a minor fee--just don’t ask her to go near the chapel

has never gotten less than an A on an exam

keeps a couple of potted plants with medicinal properties in her dorm room

has a dozen part-time jobs on and around campus, which makes people wonder how she manages to do that and keep up her grades at the same time (she’s prone to burnout)

her library checkout history has books on every topic imaginable

has abstract tattoos on her back

keeps a swiss army knife and a switchblade in her bag in case of emergencies

sangonomiya kokomi

majoring in military history, though she is expected to go into religion

gets egg sushi whenever she can

has a mermaid-like aesthetic

has a jellyfish stuffed animal and a dragon stuffed animal that she keeps on her bed

tends to suffer from burnout and keep the effects hidden from her friends and classmates

enjoys free diving in her spare time (which isn’t much)

has read sun tzu’s art of war many times, but also enjoys science fiction and fantasy novels

operates using the spoon theory to manage her energy and time

known to be over-prepared and turn her assignments in several days or weeks early

wears pearl earrings on special occasions

suspects she’s autistic but doesn’t want to bother with getting a diagnosis

not vegetarian, but avoids eating seafood

has a sizable fish tank with tropical fish in her dorm room

yoimiya

majoring in chemistry

likes to make dango in the dorm kitchen for herself and her friends

got permission from the university to set up fireworks displays over the lake for holidays and festivals

has adhd

covered in burn scars and bandages from her experiments in the lab and outside it

favorite animal is goldfish; she has a tattoo of one

sleeps in weird places on campus; people are liable to trip over her

spends much of her time in the lab or the workshop tinkering with just about everything

keeps shiny rocks and lost pieces of metal on her desk

carries around a bag of candy in her bag, which she’ll share with her friends and classmates

ambidextrous

doesn’t have much of a sense of modesty, and wears a bikini to swim in the lake or the pool

very good at doing impressions of people, though she has a hard time covering up her accent

reads lots of romance novels

lactose intolerant

almost never eats full meals, prefers to eat small things on the go

volunteers at the daycare near the campus when she can

organizes trips to the hot springs with her friends during vacations

sometimes holds eating competitions in the dining hall, with her friends cheering her on

already starting to lose her hearing, although it’s not particularly noticable

kujou sara

has no idea what she's going to major in yet

enjoys sweet egg rolls, which are the only sweet thing that she eats

was adopted as a child

some sort of neurodivergence, possibly ocd or autism, but she's not sure yet

secretly collects figurines and has a vast collection, but no one has been allowed to see it yet

carries a folding fan with her wherever she goes because she overheats easily

five is her lucky number

archery club

raiden shogun

also has no idea what she's going to major in

cannot cook without setting off the smoke alarm

became a shut-in after the death of her twin sister, and has only just started coming out into the world again

older than traditional college age

developed a neutral and emotionless persona as a coping mechanism

terrified of change and struggles with transitions

keeps in shape by working out, boxing, and practicing other martial arts

loves sweets

has never had a cavity in her life

kunikuzushi is makoto's son, who ei adopted after her death but was unable to take care of due to her depression

has a habit of feeding the birds on campus, carries birdseed with her

yae miko

majoring in literature, minoring in religion

her specialty is making the udon from the dining hall actually taste good

loves fried tofu

absolutely loves reading, always has a book in her hand

can be a bit obsessive about money

enjoys playing tricks and pranks on her friends

has a pink fox stuffed animal tucked into a corner on her bookcase

gets bored very easily, always looking for something to entertain her

pink is her favorite color

thinks puppets are creepy

was a gullible crybaby as a kid, but grew more cynical as she got older

childhood friend of ei and makoto

#genshin #hannah screams

[sh1tbird-shantytown]

imagine if steve had followed billy around and kept a suspicious eye on him during s3 like harry potter had done with draco malfoy. like- dude. that shit would’ve been hilarious and he could’ve caught on and they could’ve helped him sooner. *shrug* just saying

#billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #season 3 #it would’ve been great i tell you #heather could’ve been sAved #steve just occasionally drives by and peaks in through the hargrove house windows #stops by the pool with the kids as often as ‘normally’ possible #ever so casually invite him over to Scoops #keeps Robin updated so much that she starts questioning his own sexuality for him #harringrove #dustin just pats him on the back in the beginning because he thinks he’s crazy #but then they team up and constantly drill Max with constant questions

[princeanxious]

:) so. No one ordered it, but, I have an Logan Angst(w/ hurt/comfort to balance it out a little) au idea to deliver!

So you know those AU fics w/ Virgil where he hides smth unusual abt himself( Like wings, Spider limbs, Being unusually tall, ect.) Bc he’s afraid of what the others will think/do if they find out?

Take that and apply it to Logan, But he’s actually been hiding it ever since (AU)!Thomas became Obsessed with Marine Biology as a kid!(i genuinely cant remember what Thomas's real life degree was gonna be b4 he switched to YouTube but for the au's sake im going with marine biologist)

What’s he hiding, you ask? Fish scales, of course!

(Continued under the cut)

Logan used to wear long sleeves all the time, and Sherlock bit with the scarf was a cover up for when he used to wear it constantly when they were younger, not that Virgil(who has spider traits in this but never thought to hide them b4 he was accepted, and by that point there was no reason to) nor any of the other dark sides with animal traits knew about it either, but his body, especially his legs and hips, were covered in shimmery sapphire blue scales, and in patches around the gills on his neck and ribs.

Why doesn't Logan wear long sleeves now? Because the scales suddenly stopped reappearing (coincidentally right around the time Thomas gave up on marine biology to do youtube) on his arms the few times they'd accidentally been pulled off some how, be it bumps/scrapes or eventually Logan getting fed up w/ the illogicalness of it all and 'removing' the rest on his arms so that he could finally wear short sleeves and not raise more questions about his health.

The scales around the gills on his neck are more tragic, as they do regrow still, to keep his gills safe. He plucks them as close to the gills as possible, before wearing masking makeup & a high collar with a tie to ensure his gills never peak out from his shirt.

It limits his normal comfortable way of breathing, but hes been doing it so long that he doesnt remember what it feels like, and thus isn't bothered by it anymore, as his gills dont open up fully anymore unless submerged under water for a long period of time.

Why is he so insistant about thomas drinking the healthy recommended amount of water? Because if Logan didn’t, he'd suffer migraines and get sick from being dehydrated in easily less than half the time it'd take for Thomas or any of the others to reach

Why doesnt he ever go swimming with the others? Because if he did, there's no gaurantee his body would let him leave the water after refusing to so much as even soak in a bathtub for years at this point

Hell, his body might even go into shock at that point.

No idea how his reveal would go, but the idea of the others spraying him with water spray bottles when he is over-dry and resultingly irritable has been brought up as an additional idea by @this-is-ske(my lovely frien who lets me info dumb abt all my aus so we can shout abt them together) and my only thought is that Logan is spiteful and petty enough to snatch a spray bottle and spray them right back.

He often needs to spray himself with water, even if he’d had a shower not two hours ago, because his scales dry out very quickly and its sensory hell in combination with even the softest of dress pants.

But the years of neglect slowly turned his shimmery sapphire blue scales into dulled greyblue, as a result from being dried out and flakey and unhealthy for so long.

He tries not to think about it too hard when he's forced to look at them.

Remus wouldn’t hesitate to toss post-reveal(and post-recovery)! Logan full out into a fucking pool, or just hop into one and drag him in with. "Dry Fishies are irritated fishies, be like me! Get wet and feel better!" *Cue Remus eye brow waggle that reflects to the rest of his tentacle arms*

No but srsly remus and janus finding iut and going "oh HELL no" bc janus knows what its like to not take care of your scales properly and Remus knows what its like to dry out.

Imagine the additional angst when Janus finds out not only about the scales but the gills on his ribs and neck too, and feels SUPREMELY guilty bc of the crook yank he did

"Its fine, its not like I could breath out of them anymore, they just bruised a bit longer" *even more concerned and upset Janus noises*

"What do you mean you cant breath out of them anymore!"

" ..One day they just wouldn't open? Sort of like the equivalent of a stuffed nose, except that they never reopened because they'd fully dried out, I think."

"I swear to god Logan I wish I could strangle you," *cue Janus wapping Logan w/ a rolled up paper, Edna Mode style, lecturing* "One day! You'll understand! Self care! Is good! For you!"

Cue them finally bullying Logan into taking care of them but no longer hiding the scales as the ones on his arms start coming back, but still greyblue, bc at this point Logan doesnt even want to deal with the immediate headache of them learning right off the bat that they Shouldnt Look Like That. He doesnt even really believe that they'll ever change back to their once brilliant blue, thinking it just a fluke with their age or something.

It takes months.

And then one day he wakes up, having been sleeping in the imagination with Remus, having indulged in underwater sleeping as a healing therapy, made better only by the fact that Remus is a rly good cuddler, and his tentacles keep them both locked together in the water, *and* one anchors them so they don't drift away in their sleep.

Remus is staring at him, his chest to be exact, where new patches of scales had been growing to meet in the middle around the gills on his ribs. He looks down and notices theres an uneven patch of brilliant blue peaking out from the sea of comparably grey scales. Then he notes that multiple patches of scales are slowly regaining their hue. It doesn't take long for the others to put two and two together about sick fish with dull scales. It confirms Logan had been sick for Years, and was only Just healing to a beginning state of equilibrium.

For some comfort w/ all this angst, when Logan does see his blue scales for the first time? He smiles, he smiles so wide at Remus. Remus probably falls in love with the way Logan's gills flare out prettily in time with Logan's smile. Logans finally convinced to take care of himself, and the first glimpse of progress has him Beaming for Days.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #platonic dlampr #intrulogical #logan angst #luka writes #luka’s aus #platonic loceit #romantic intrulogical #ask to tag #hurt/comfort

[getlostsquidward]

no body, no crime

Sally McKenna x fem!reader

A/N: Based on the prompt date idea: bury the corpses of people your s/o killed together. I just twisted it a bit. Title from another Taylor song lmao

Warnings: blood, murder

Summary: The basement of Hotel Cortez was the dumping site of corpses. There should be a pile of bodies welcoming Sally’s sight, only to find it empty.

Another day, another body was dumped in the secret basement of the Cortez. Normally, Liz and Iris would be the ones to toss the dead people in the dark, mostly victims of the bloodthirsty residents of the hotel; but Sally had gone bored of ripping mattresses apart and keeping her victim inside. There was one time, after chucking a body, the frizzy-haired woman mounted herself in the little space and slipped her body downwards, like a kid in the playground slides.

Instead of little kids cheering for her when she’d gone down, it would be silence and a pile of corpses that would welcome her. The room reeks of rotten bodies and cigarette smoke, as Sally would often find solace in this rather twisted paradise. It was ironic that she would seek the company of dead people than the alive ones. The living ones would only leave her, bring her sadness more than she already feels, but the dead won’t leave her alone. As if they can.

Sally had gone back to the room through the vent again to come back for her latest victim who she hadn’t killed yet but decided to throw amongst the dead for the satisfaction of seeing the man’s remaining resolve crumble down with the sight of his company.

To her absolute surprise, he wasn’t there. Nor the rest of the bodies.

She frantically search the hallways, went back to her room to see if the man had gone there, only to find it empty. Then she rode the elevator, hoping to see him in the bar or at the lobby. He couldn’t have escaped that quickly, can he?

She found no one, save for Liz at the bar and Iris at the reception. Sally had asked both if they saw them. They didn’t.

She sat at the stool at the bar, her head resting on her hand. Liz gave her the usual and a cigarette stick. Sally had started rambling about how she found the basement empty and how she fucked up by not killing the man.

Liz only half-listened to the woman but she had an idea of where they had gone. Of who collected the bodies, but she didn’t speak.

Finishing her drink, the ghost went back to her room and plopped down the bed. She didn’t think that she would feel exhaustion even she’s dead.

Five minutes into slipping out of her headspace, she was startled by the scream coming from the vents. Certain that it was her victim, she scurried to the source of the voice.

Sally was momentarily blinded when she arrived in the room. What the hell? This place was as dark as the basement save for the neon signages on the walls but now the curtains were fully opened and the sunlight completely illuminates the room. Once she regained her sight she saw the corpses in different positions, and someone in the middle of the room… painting?

She didn’t reveal her presence yet, observing the way the stranger holds the paintbrush and waves her hand like a conductor in a symphony. She stood there for a while, stuck in a trance. The ghost had forgotten why she went there in the first place until her victim cried again. He was weak, limp body trying to crawl out of the room.

She watched as the painter huffed and sat to match their eye line. “Can you please go back to your spot? You’re dying, right? Why don’t you sit back there and wait peacefully for your death?”

He didn’t pay attention to her and continued to crawl, but stopped when he caught sight of Sally. Another sob escapes from his mouth, a cry of hopelessness. There was no way he would get out of the Cortez alive.

A smug grin was plastered on Sally's face as she feels the gratification pooling in the depths of her. No, the look on the man’s face right now was so much better than she imagined.

“Okay sweetheart, time’s up-” The woman stood up and turned, and was startled by Sally’s presence. Once she regained her composure, she reverted her attention to the man on the floor. She flipped the man’s body with ease so he was facing her.

“Consider this your lucky day, sweetheart,” she whispered with a honeyed voice, a finger trailing the man’s cheek. “You’re my 100th kill.”

She then slit the man’s throat by the sharp edge of her gloves, like the one the Countess uses. The woman had collected some blood, but instead of drinking it, she placed it in a small jar.

“I don’t consume blood. I mix them with my paint, in case you’re wondering,” she mused, the words directed to Sally.

Once she was done, she placed the materials back on her table and took off the gloves. She straightened out her dress and approached Sally, a hand outstretched.

“Hope you enjoyed the show. What’s your name?”

“Sally,” the ghost answered, eyes glassy and curious as to who this woman was. She’d never seen her before.

“Sally. I’m Y/N. Let me buy you a drink.”

-

You went to the bar and hugged Liz, you haven’t seen the woman for a while. Well, you haven’t let yourself be seen for a while, rather enjoying the isolation. Liz gave you and Sally a drink and excused herself.

“You’re not like them? That only means you’re a ghost too.”

“Yes, well, my sister tried to infect me but I refused. It would be hypocritical of me to say this but I’m not really fond of killing people,” you said as you stood up and went behind the bar to search for that can of beer you missed. “That’s why I just take your trash.”

Sally only chuckled about how your eyes sparked otherwise when you killed the man earlier. “Why are you here?”

“You mean how did I die?”

Sally lit your cigarette for you, and you took a puff before continuing. “James.”

Her eyebrows raised, stupefied. She didn’t speak so you let on, “I knew something that I shouldn’t have and if I relayed that information to the Countess she would leave, well, kill him. So he killed me first.”

You’d accounted how you didn’t reveal yourself at first, still overwhelmed that you were trapped in the place as the same man who killed you. When you heard that James was dead too, that’s when you showed up.

The information that you would tell your sister, how James had Valentino and his wife locked away in the same place, forbidding them to meet with the Countess and running away was in the back of your mind now, letting her find out for herself. She couldn’t possibly harm James after all. Her hatred towards him will only grow.

Babysitting your nephew Bartholomew, and sometimes the other kids were how you let time pass. Your first kill was a man who was lurking the hallways he shouldn’t be in. It was exhilarating, watching him die. The look on their faces when they realize there’s nowhere to go, that they were about to take their last breath. It’s making you feel things but limited yourself from harming just anyone. You’d rather let the bloodthirsty and other ghosts do the dirty work for you. Though sometimes you miss the tingle killing people gives you so you do it yourself, and that’s why even though you were here for a long time now, you consider a hundred a small number compared to the killings of the older residents of the Cortez made.

Sally held up her glass and clinked it with yours. “Not all can appreciate this lovely darkness. Here’s to your 100th kill.”

“Here’s to my new friend,” shooting her a wink.

“Cheers.”

“So you going back to your cave now?” your newfound friend asked, lighting another cigarette. There was a hint of sadness in her raspy voice. She was hoping you wouldn’t hide again.

“No. I found something more interesting now,” you downed the last of your drink, leaning your arms against the counter to inch closer to Sally.

Your noses were touching, and you ghost your lips against hers. “Bring another unlucky human to your room tomorrow night. I want to watch how you kill them.”

Pulling away before Sally captures your lips, you leaned towards her ear and breathed, “It’s a date.”

#sarah paulson #sarah paulson x reader #sarah paulson imagine #ahs hotel #american horror story #sally mckenna #hypodermic sally #hypodermic sally x reader #sally mckenna x reader #the countess #james patrick march

[ontheblock]

i know that i‘m a little behind with my inbox requests but i will come around to finish them soon !! i just to be a little selfish with this self indulgent fic of sal<3 enjoy, fuckers. the next post will hopefully be henry bowers once i get to finish it-

home

•warning: gore, angst

Sal never imagined that he would be scared to see her. The steady dripping and the weight in his hand made him uneasy as he stared at the door for a moment - probably not more than ten seconds or maybe it was twenty minutes, he didn’t know. He barely remembered stumbling out of Room whichever-the-fuck. Sawwy Face. I’m proud of you, Sal. Fuck.

Sal‘s hand hovered over the door knob. She probably left it unlocked again. Sal always told her to lock up at night but he knew her too well. She would stay up way too late just to pass out on top of her covers or tangled up in it from her determination to find the best position to lay in. He knew because of course he did. Sal would be the one to come over more often than not when his bed was just too cold and his night terrors just too real at night. He would slip under her covers, holding her against his chest and whisper sweet nothings into the dark room if it made her stir. No matter how bad it was, he didn’t like to wake her up - no matter how much he wanted to be the one to be held and caressed, soothed and lulled into sleep. Eventually he settled with her presence alone, lying on the rough carpet next to her bed, tracing her hand hanging off the bed with his eye. The carpet usually hurt his tender side if he rolled over in his sleep and he woke up with a rash too many times. It made his prosthetic sit on his face uncomfortably for days. She would scold him for sleeping on the cold floor but he was giddy for her kisses and they always followed immediately after - the softest butterfly kisses on his scars and they were better than any cream she bought him for the rash but he let her apply it on his face anyway. Sal never told her how gross a moist face felt under the prosthetic. It made her happy so it was ok.

He stared at the bad paint job on the door. The shadow he casted on the room number plate taunted him as he turned the knob. A wave of her scent faintly hit him under the ever lingering smell of copper as soon as the door creaked open. The shitty hallway lights barely lit up the room. He shuffled the knife handle in his clammy hands as he entered the apartment. He knew that her bedroom was the first brown door. He could find his way to her blind and he knew that if he didn’t go now he would never go. It was so quiet as he approached the closed door. So quiet as he pushed the door open. The janky blinds were only half closed, letting the moon cast its light into the room. It was so dull now. Everything in Nockfell was dull now or maybe it always was this way. Maybe the bright moments were only so bright because they were moments he shared with her. Sal’s foot nudged against a soft pile of her clothing as he stepped foot into the familiar room, a room they would jokingly call their detached house when they were in their late teens, sharing a cigarette on her unmade bed surrounded by each other’s clothes until he promised her that one day he will give her exactly that but real. Not some run down apartment with wet walls. She told him that anything was fine but he chased that pipe dream anyway.

His blood caked shoe kicked a stray sock back into the pile, smearing blood on it along the way. Whose blood? But it was fine because she only piled her clothes by her door if the next day was laundry day. Tomorrow was laundry day, it was going to be ok. He slowly lifted his head back up to look at her, tangled up in her favorite blanket. He didn’t understand what made the blanket so special. He never liked the way the fabric felt on his skin until Ash told him that the blanket matched his hair color perfectly and she just missed Sal after he moved in with Todd, missed the way he would drape his arm over her, missed the way he would stay up until she was sound asleep even though he was the one who saw nothing but death when he finally closed his eyes. It made his chest ache a little and he made sure to send her a SMS almost every night. But now she looked so peaceful - as if he could just lay down next to her and wake up to a normal day. A day before he killed 12 people that watched him grow from the 5’2 kid with pigtails in the 5’6 man with hair hanging loosely over his shoulders because he liked how she would sit behind him to brush his hair while he drowned himself in his college classes.

He didn’t lay down, didn‘t have the chance to dwell on that thought as her phone gave a shrill pinging sound into the dusty air. His head snapped to the small nightstand. It was cluttered with a lamp and some stray pieces of paper and sticker packs ranging with designs for kids like hello kitty and sanrio characters - no, he didn’t care that hello kitty already was a sanrio character, no matter how often she would tell him - to band logos like korn and sanity falls. She would randomly ask Sal to stick them on his mask. He would say no because it was hell to get the residue off afterwards. She would pout like she always did, and he would cave like he always did. In the middle of a paper pile sat her phone, blinking with a notification.

Anniversary <3

Fuck. Sal swallowed hard. His prosthetic clung to the sweat layer on his face. Or was it just the tears? Both? Was it blood? Maybe it was all but the rusteling of fabric made him painfully aware that it was the least important worry right now. She was stirring and as soon as he got a good look of her face he saw the tell tale sign of her waking up - the scrunch of the nose and the fluttering lashes. Ah fuck.

“Sal?“ Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. “Sal? What is it?“

He opened his mouth just to close it again. Not that she saw it anyway. Slowly, she pushed her upper body up onto her elbows, finally blinking up at him. It was dark but her breath caught in her throat when she finally took in the man looming over her bed. “Is- Is that blood?“ He didn’t know when but he stopped breathing, just holding everything inside to ground himself but was it worth it when the oxygen felt like acid slowly corroding everything it touched - every square inch from what lining was left inside his nose to his throat all the way inside his lungs? The corruption would split him open again again again again and eat her whole the second his fingertips grazed her familiar skin. Skin he painted with his own, skin he kissed, skin he was about to split before it split him. If he just didn’t touch her would it be ok? If his skin wouldn’t touch her this time would she still be there tomorrow? Sal finally released the air trapped inside him against his mask as she sat up, sucking more air in as she clutched the blue blanket.

There was a moment of silence, of nothing, of her exhaling shakily with a fear in her features that rendered him completely still, of him just staring at her wide eyed and breathing erratically now. A silent moment for her to consider any possibility to get the fuck out this room and for him to find it in himself to finish the job. He couldn’t but funnily enough she gave him the final shove by kicking her legs out of the blanket and throwing herself off the creaking mattress past Sal - or trying to. He saw it coming the moment her hands twitched and shoved the frayed hem away. Sal just had to extend his right arm for her to fall into it with a yelp. He slung it around her waist tightly, afraid it would bruise her, and slammed her back into the mattress. It knocked the wind out of her for just long enough to straddle her body, arms pressed up against her sides by his thighs and it left her kicking wildly. It was just like the times they would wrestle on the bed because it made her laugh. She wasn’t laughing this time. She was yelling. He knew because he saw her mouth hung open, tense and afraid. But he only heard noise and he felt bad that he couldn’t make out her words, if they even were words. Sal swallowed. Would he make it worse if he told her that he loved her now? Would she just thrash out his grip if he held her with blood coating his hair, blood dripping from his fake chin and nose, blood making the knife handle a little too slick to hold properly? He didn’t want to find out so he settled with wiping the back of his hand on his jeans and putting his other hand on her stomach to catch himself from the way the room spun around him. She flinched. She never flinched from his touch before.

His hand yanked up the tank top covering her stomach, all the way up to her ribs. She was breathing so hard that her skin kept stretching and shrinking to make room for her expanding ribcage. Was she still screaming? She was. His hand flew up to her face by instinct, pressing against her mouth to muffle her screams to throaty groans and whimpers as she struggled to focuse her eyes on him. He knew she was trying to slip out his name. He didn’t know how, he just knew.

Sal didn’t look at her as he brought the knife closer but he felt the way she tensed and pressed backwards into the mattress, away from the knife, away from her murder boyfriend on their anniversary. He wanted to guide her through but there really wasn’t a way around it. It would definitely be worse if he confessed his undying love to her like he wasn’t about to scratch out the undying part, like she wasn’t already dead meat. He would have to be quick like with Soda. He wanted to throw up. It was so easy to just plunge the knife through the ribs but where was that sweet spot on an adult woman? Fuck. He let her shirt fall back down, clutching her left shoulder instead to push her deeper into the mattress. He didn’t mean to but he automatically looked into her eyes. She was crying, pleading with him the way he didn‘t let her plead with her words. Nothing but fear, confusion and adrenaline pooled in her eyes, overflowing as tears down her temples. Her eyes never held so much resentment against him. His were bloodshot, hollow, wet with old tears, staring back at her without any expression like a void opened behind the only good eye he had left to shield his pain.

Sal thought about the time Ash told him how to pierce an ear. “Breathe in, hold it and push it through while exhaling. Won‘t feel a thing.“ Maybe he was stupid, delusional. Maybe he was clutching the last straws. But he filled his lungs and held his breath for just a few seconds before exhaling and shakily pressing the tip of the blade down. God, she was screaming so loud, it pierced through every static in his head, heaving and twitching as blood soaked her shirt, soaked her blanket and sheet. His hand slipped off the wet handle, leaving the blade buried in her chest about six inches deep with two sticking out. Why was she still thrashing? Why wasn‘t she fucking dead yet? Sal panicked as he yanked the blade back out, making her blood coat his mask as it sprayed out from the force. His heart was beating in his throat in an attempt to finally stop hers. Her blood felt like it was scorching his skin off his flesh, his flesh off his bones and he thrusted his knife back inside all the way, dragging it down, tearing her chest in two as he finally reduced her screaming to gargling chokes, sobs and broken calls that he sometimes identified as variations of his name.

“You killed her, bud.“ I know. “Her mother told her to leave your sorry ass, yknow? But she offered you her pinky and you cut it clean off, fucker.“ Yeah. She should have done that. “You’re going to die, rotting in a cell to live with the guilt.“ I deserve it.

Sal watched the light drain from her eyes while the blood drained from her gaping chest. His home he was longing for since 1984, it crumbled like her mother predicted, maybe not under for the reasons she expected. The static in his ears left, offering a moment of silence until there were too many voices screaming behind him.

“You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us. You killed us.“

“I loved you. You killed me, Sal.“

He clenched his eyes shut. The voices whispered, cried, screamed. Her voice was the loudest by just calling his name with a smile on her face and their hands intertwined - calling his name with fear in her eyes and his fingers curled around the knife sticking out of her chest. He finally shuffled off of her, dropping onto the blood soaked mattress next to her, staring. She was screaming. Not his name, just screaming so loud it made his ears ring until he couldn’t bare it anymore. Sal pulled her close like her used to do on the nights approaching August 16th. He laid her head against his chest, draped an arm over her back and rested the other on her hair. It felt wet. The knife handle uncomfortably dug into his stomach but he rested his chin on her soft hair. Sal always thought it was his prosthetic that made him whole. He felt lost without it, bare and incomplete. The nightmares manifested into real life fears. Nightmares like his scars just opening back up, ripping him apart all over again. But now she was gone and the mask did nothing to stop the feeling of falling apart under her weight on his chest. He felt like splitting apart inside the shell that was him, Sally Face, filling his prosthetic with gore until it started to seep out the eyeholes like it was seeping out her open chest. But right now he wasn’t Sally Face. He was Sal Fisher, assailant and guilty for the mass murder of 13 tenants in Addison Apartments.

Sal studied the top of her head in silence, watching her own blood drip from the tip of the mask‘s nose to be soaked up by her hair. She always took relatively good care of it and scolded him for not doing the same until they fell into the routine of her brushing his days old knots out of his hair as he let his fingertips ghost over his guitar. He was always so relaxed as she searched his hair for split ends to cut off every few months. He loved it but now he wasn’t sure if he would ever get a hair cut again. He mindlessly leaned against the headboard. His prosthetic started to itch from the sweat that stuck it to his skin. His prosthetic that scared her at first. They were 15 and she just moved in five months after Sal arrived with his dad. He wasn’t offended when she would quickly walk past him in the hallways. It was fine to just be strangers until Ash brought her along at school and she laughed at everything he said. It was a week of this until Larry decided to be the best wingman ever. He made it his mission to get them together before gradation. And like a true Johnson he stuck to his plan because Lisa didn’t raise her son to be a quitter. True to his promise, he convinced Sal after eight months of pining to finally make his move on her. They were 16, bordering onto 17, when Sal very awkwardly asked her on a little trip to Lake Wendigo.

“Would you go to the lake with me? Not- Not as a date, yknow. I mean, unless you wanted that. It’s not a date though.“ - “Yeah, I’d like to go, Sal.“

It was absolutely a date. Larry tried to tickle a high five out of Sal after hearing the news but god, he was so embarrassed, pressing his clammy palm against his prosthetic to will away the heat in the mask.

“So“, Sal started as they sat on the edge of the water, tossing pebbles into the large lake. “So“, she mirrored, digging her shoe into the mud. “I asked you to come here because Larry told me to.“ He quickly shook his head probably because Larry told him that he should leave that detail out. “I mean- I mean, it was my idea. Yeah, it was. I wanted to tell you something. You know how Ash told you about how I‘m weird about touching and hugging as a heads up to not freak me out? Yeah, I don‘t really like that usually. But- But I don‘t care about the way you touch me.“ She saw the way his throat bobbed once he realised how mean that sounded. “Not that I don‘t care, uh, I just don‘t mind. I dont mind when we ride in the back of that shitty cramped car that Ash lends from her aunt.“ Sal started to fiddle with his sleeve. “And it was kinda sweet how Larry taught you how to inhale smoke. You were, like, really excited about getting cancer but it was- cute. How you were proud when you got it. Sometimes you do these small things and they just make it really hard to breathe. And it‘s not your fault or anything. I- Larry said I would know what to say when the time is right. But I guess there is no right time.“ He rubbed his neck nervously. “Say it, Fisher“, she said, much too quiet but his head snapped towards her. Her face was blank of any expression but her eyes glimmered and gleamed like those gemstones she told him about before. He didn‘t know the name. “I can‘t- I don‘t know how.“ He couldn‘t look away as she put her weight on one arm, leaning towards him. She was scooting closer and Sal felt his heart beat behind his face. “Go out with me“, he suddenly blurted out, stopping her dead in her tracks. “Please“, he added breathlessly before she took his hand, intertwining their fingers. She loved how his long fingers rode up her hand, how cool his touch was.

“Sal, please. I know Larry has seen it before.“ She trailed behind her boyfriend of roughly one month on their way to the buildings elevator. “I didn’t mean to. It just slipped off.“ His voice was so distant as he pressed the button, watching the number close in to the 1st floor. “Do you not want to?“ There was a brief silence as she stood behind him, sounding so small and it made his heart ache. “That’s not it, love“, he tried to offer but she didn’t answer as the elevator doors slid open. She pushed past him into the empty space, he followed. She waited for him to press their respective floor numbers but didn’t say anything else. The doors closed again when Sal faced his girlfriend. “Listen. It’s not- easy.“ She didn’t reply, only shuffled in place a little as her sole scratched across the elevator floor. “I do want to. I want to kiss you but-“ He cut himself off. They both knew how he felt about his face. They both knew she was being unreasonable but could he blame her? He held her hand in public after two weeks of dating because he was anxious. He held her in private a week later while watching a movie with her. But he refused to kiss her. She resorted to kissing the lips of his prosthetic and it made his stomach flutter but she just wanted more. She wanted real. On the rare occasion that he slept over he slept in his mask, taking the pain of the hard shell pressing into his tender side all night instead of sharing the most private moment with her by showing her his everything. He felt like an asshole, sure. But the thought made him want to vomit into the small space.

“I said that I would let you go at your own pace but at this point, you’re in parking on the side of the road, Sal. You can‘t hide from me forever.“ Her words stung like daggers. “I’m not hiding. This is my face. I will show you my past, I promise.“ He stepped closer, offering her his pinky. He found it silly when she first brought up pinky swears but it became their way of showing they were serious. “Really?“ She searched for something in his one functioning eye, a lie. But there was only warmth for her so she curled her pinky around his. “Really. You aren’t my past but you’re my present and will be my future.“

She flushed at that. He knew how this sappy shit fucked with her head and they held onto each other’s pinky when they reached her floor. Sal walked her to her door in silence but his heart was lighter than when he stepped into the elevator. “So“, she started. “See you tomorrow, Sally.“ She turned around only to feel his lips on hers and his hands gripping her shoulders to keep her in place.

The punch was horrible sugar water, the snacks went stale an hour ago, the jocks snuck in booze so a good amount of soon to be graduating kids were drunk off their ass, Larry was high and sharing his spliff with Ash and holy fuck, the music was ass. But it was the best night of Sal’s life - their prom. Him and Larry always said how stupid prom was, how they wouldn’t dress up and how they wouldn’t go in the first place. And now here he was in dark blue dress pants and a button up, holding two cups of the most disgusting juice he ever got to taste. And he loved every second because she kissed the gap between his mask and his ear, whispering a little “thank you“ for holding onto her drink while she used the bathroom. And god, his heart jumped in shapes that weren’t even known to man yet at how utterly, completely, deeply and horrifyingly pretty his girl looked. His throat ran dry everytime he had the chance to look at her in that dress. He knew that she went shopping for it with Ash, he needed to thank her for that some other time.

“You‘re pretty.“ She could barely hear him over the music and it was the eleventh time he said it that night. She still giggled, taking his hand to lead him to the crowd of students. “Will you dance with me?“ His knees felt weak at her question, how she held his hands, how she looked at him with the love he never thought he would be able to receive. “Anytime“, he croaked as they both found the rhythm of some badly mixed song they already played last year but he would never get the song out of his head again as he lost himself in her movements.

The night went beautifully until it didn‘t. The moment the beats got heavier and the crowd got louder Sal found himself get bolder until his mask had no more grip and the buckle just gave up. Suddenly everything was silent around him with his mask on the floor and seconds felt like minutes before his hands flew up to cover himself. He heard how she called out to him, felt how she lead him out of the gym to escape into the much less crowded hallway.

“Sal? Honey, look at me.“ Sal wasn’t sure if she was whispering or yelling. Everything was muffled by the intense nausea building in his stomach. He was too scared to reply because the bile was threatening to boil over and just spill onto her shoes and the skirt of her dress. His already impaired vision swam with tears as he felt fingertips gently trace the back of his hands. Sal swallowed a sob as he allowed her to pull his hands away but he didn’t pick his head up. His wild hair dropped over his face like a curtain and it was the only thing blocking the tears from just pouring until he reached the privacy of his room. “Please, love. Please. Let’s leave, please“, he choked out with a thick voice. A voice that deep had no business sounding that small. Sal felt a familiar comfort on his face as she gently pressed his prosthetic to his skin. He let her buckle it onto his head before finally looking at her. “It’s ok. Let’s go home.“ Sal nodded, taking her hand and letting her guide them outside into the pouring rain.

“Ah shit“, they said almost at the same time. He stayed under the roof for a moment, unsure if she wanted to ruin her look in the rain but she already stepped into the rain and pulled him along. She was still so beautiful, it made him ache. “I’m sorry“, he breathed into the droplets hitting his mask. “You can’t control the weather. It’s ok, I don’t-“ He tightened his grip on her hand. “I ruined your prom night“, he blurted out, making anything she wanted to say die on her tongue before she could discover what it was. Sal felt a little resistance as she stood still but held his hand tight enough to make him stop too. “What is-?“

“Sal, will you finally dance with me?“ His breath caught in his throat. She looked like she was sculpted from the image of a goddess, dripping in rain with mascara running down her face and her dress clinging to her skin. His first response was to close the gap between them, pulling her close. They didn‘t mind the cars driving by because tonight the world belonged to them even if it was only for a few hours.

“Anytime.“ She was warm despite the steady rain prickling her like needles. It was like she was his source of light and warmth that refused to let him go cold again. She was so warm.

She was so cold. Sal pressed her harder into his chest, digging the knife’s blade in her squelching flesh and the handle just above his ribs. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t the one facing the sharp end after all.

Flashes of red and blue dully lit the room’s walls from the outside, siren’s pierced the aching silence. The room never felt this cold before. He never told her about the building being haunted. He never told her about the cult. He never told her that he wasn’t mauled by a real dog. He wanted something normal for once. And it was the best thing he ever had because she was his only pilar that no man, no ghost, no freaky demon could bend or chip until Sal crushed his Eden.

When the cops busted the door off its hinges he realised he never got the chance to show her his notebook full of songs he wrote for her.

#tw gore #angst #sally face #sal fisher #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Misread Details, Part Two

CW: Described death of whumper, BBU, implications of pet whump, references to noncon, dehumanization, sadistic whumper

Part One: Nanda | Part Two: Brute | Part Three: Robert

The Unsolved Murder of Henry “Brute” Hanlon and the Box Boy Killer

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee

2 weeks ago

I’m back, r/LetsTalkTrueCrime! I really appreciated the questions and discussion under my last write-up, and a few of you really encouraged me to keep working to provide a part two to my Serial Killer Box Boy series, so here it is!

In Part One, we looked at the mysterious death of Nathaniel “Nanda” Benson, who died of cardiac arrest due to an undiagnosed heart defect (and likely head trauma played a part) and was found at the bottom of the stairs inside his California home. The only valuable possession missing from his property was his legally-purchased Box Boy, who fled the city wearing Nathaniel Benson’s shoes and using his money to buy a bus and then train ticket. 

The last confirmed sighting of the runaway Box Boy (and Benson’s possible killer?) was in Red Hills, California, a large-ish city a couple hours south of Benson’s house by train. 

Questions remain around Benson’s death: did he suffer cardiac arrest and fall down the stairs? Did the Box Boy push him, with the shock of the trauma and injury leading to the heart attack that killed him?

Is the Box Boy merely a witness to a tragic but natural death, or the prime murder suspect?

And most importantly: If he wasn’t guilty, why did he run?

Less than a full calendar year after Benson’s death, the question of where the Boxie went after Benson died was answered… but even that answer only opened up more questions, and the sudden death of a second man places even more uncertainty into the story of a Boxie who might simply be an innocent victim - or who could be a serial killer whose makes a victim out of those who give him shelter.

Which leads us to the story of Henry James Hanlon, known to nearly everyone - including his wife - as “Brute”.

Henry Hanlon was born in a small town in Texas, but moved to Red Hills, California after finishing a stint in the Air Force. 

His parents, James Hanlon and Estella Hanlon, maiden name Brickers, had had their first child, Henry’s older brother William “Bill”, right out of high school, born six months after their wedding day. Henry came three years later, and his sister Roberta “Bobbie” one year after that.

Henry was a perfectly normal, cheerful little boy, always toddling after his older brother and trying to join in the games of the older kids in town. His parents recalled him as the quintessential “middle child”, always resolving disputes and quietly getting things done. He received his nickname of “Brute” in fifth grade, when a classroom bully was harassing a female friend of Henry’s and Henry decided to take action. The only information I could really hunt down on this was some old school records that I found on a message board, and I can’t really verify if they’re real, but they suggest that the bully was sent home injured and Henry received a three-day suspension.

After that, it seems, anyone and everyone - even teachers - called Henry Hanlon “Brute”, and he never seemed to mind.

He received perfectly average grades, enlisted in the Air Force, served without distinction but without any significant incidents, and afterwards he moved out to California, where he settled into Red Hills (then a city with a thriving industrial district that was slowly beginning its slide into something rougher) and took a job with a manufacturing company, working in their warehouse.

“Brute” dated around a bit, but it wasn’t until three years after his move that he met the woman he would marry, Ellen Patricia Barry. She was a few years younger than him, and they met at a local bar that both were known to frequent. One of Brute’s former coworkers told police that Brute was big into pool and poker, both of which he would engage in when he went to the bar, and that he met Ellen during one of the poker nights, and that Brute stated that how easily she beat him was one of the reasons he was interested in her romantically.

Ellen claims they first spoke while playing pool, not poker, and also claims she’s never played poker in her life. Why Brute would have told his coworkers a different story is unclear. 

They dated for about a year before they wed at Grace Baptist Church on a sunny summer day in 20XX. Ellen’s father gave her away while Brute’s little sister was the maid of honor. A year later, Brute’s daughter Elizabeth was born, and a couple years after that, their son Daniel.

The Hanlons lived a charmed life - they owned a cute three-bedroom cottage home (bought and given to them by Ellen’s parents as a wedding gift) in a good part of town with a little white fence around the property and a yard big enough for the children and dog to play in. Ellen was part of the local PTA and active in her church, and Brute himself had the appearance of a man totally content with everything he had.

But Brute Hanlon had a secret.

Ellen continued to believe he was employed by the manufacturing company, but he actually left his employment there years before his death. Instead, he seems to have transitioned into making his money “under the table”. Ellen wouldn’t discover any of this until after his body was located… in a secret house he’d never told her about, in one of the roughest parts of Red Hills.

Without her knowledge, Brute purchased a two-bedroom home with cash directly from its previous owner that was badly in need of repair in the Pauls Mill neighborhood. Once a “company town” from the 1930’s - 1950’s that was absorbed into Red Hills as it grew in the 60’s, Pauls Mill today is the kind of neighborhood where everyone knows if you belong there, or don’t, and it’s best if you belong.

Brute performed a few very cursory repairs to keep it livable, laid down some new carpet, and then used it as a kind of secret base for the unsavory activities he didn’t want Ellen or the children to know about.

While his family believed he was at work at the factory, Hanlon was in fact hosting poker games, selling illicit narcotics and unlicensed firearms, and generally making quite a bit more money than he had with legal employment entirely under-the-table. He would spend his day making connections (and money) through these activities, then go home right at 5 pm sharp to his loving family, eat dinner at 6 pm, help his kids with their homework and hear about their day, and settle in for an evening playing the loving husband and doting dad.

Somewhere during this time period, Brute told Ellen he was setting up a “poker night” with his friends again, now that the kids were school-aged. 

What he did instead was drive down to the corner of Holt and McCormick streets, known to all locals as the Red Hills “red light district”, and pick up prostitutes, usually simply meeting with them in his car, but occasionally taking them to a nearby motel.

After his body was found, police showed his picture around to a variety of the individuals who make their living at Holt and McCormick, and more than a dozen locals immediately recognized him. 

Some described him as a regular customer who wasn’t particularly special or notable beyond the simple fact that he never tried to renege on payment and could be relied on to always be looking for someone on a particular night of the week… but others, almost entirely male, said he could be violent. A few described being injured enough that they had to seek medical treatment after meeting him. The same individuals stated that he insisted on using dehumanizing and insulting language to speak to them during these encounters, and that he was often unable to perform unless he did so.

One individual, who gave his name as “Mix”, mentioned that the last few times Brute had engaged his services, he had brought along a collar and insisted Mix pretend to be a Box Boy. 

During this time period, Brute continued to be an active, involved, and loving parent. 

He was home right on time every night except “poker night”, attended his chlidrens’ recitals and baseball games on the weekends. He often took them to the Red Hills Zoo, local parks, and even did a weekend trip to Berras to see the Berras Aquarium, stay overnight in a hotel as a family, and then visit a redwoods park before returning home.

Six months before his death, Brute’s visits to the red light district abruptly stopped. Instead, he apparently met with a local prostitute, engaged his services, and took him home… for good. 

The best record we have is that one woman, Needie Brandt, remembered seeing Brute leading a shorter, angular young man to his car one night, and described the young man as “one of those runaway Boxies, collar and all. Poor thing was half-starved”. 

Runaways, especially Romantics, are picked up by police from time to time in Red Hills. Most Romantics don’t really know any other way to survive, so prostitution is a common way to make ends meet. Needie said the young man had been seen around the area for a couple of weeks, right alongside the rest of the working people in the red light district, and that after this one night she saw Brute Hanlon lead him into the car, she didn’t see him again.

Asked if she remembered a name, Needie only shrugged and said that even if she did, it wouldn’t be a real one. Which is probably a good point. 

Somewhere in here, Brute began to date outside of his marriage while his family believed he was out with friends playing poker. He took dancing lessons with one Susan Krieger, had a serious relationship with a Lucy Graham, and was apparently occasionally taking a Natalie Dorn out for dinner.

Ellen was never informed about these out-of-wedlock interests. 

Brute’s family knew nothing. When his eldest son went to state with marching band his freshman year of high school, Brute Hanlon was right there cheering him on.

Then, just two days later, he presumably went right back to brutalizing the Box Boy he was keeping in his secret second home.

We don’t have a record of what exactly transpired within the house after Brute took the runaway Box Boy in. What we do know is what the police found later on.

On October 18th, 20XX, around midnight, Ellen Hanlon called police to report her husband missing after he did not return from his regular poker night. His car was located in the parking lot of an abandoned FoodMart, but a friend of Brute’s came forward to say he often parked there and carpooled with friends when going out.

None of Brute’s possessions were inside, and it didn’t appear the car had been touched by anyone but Brute himself when it was dusted for fingerprints or signs of DNA. Brute’s friends who knew about his secret activities weren’t telling, and Ellen and the children didn’t know anything about their seemingly loving husband and father’s double-life. 

At first, the trail seemed like it would go cold, and investigators were frustrated that they had so little to go on.

Then, on October 29th, 20XX, Brute’s neighbor (who apparently asked that his name not be given) called the police department complaining about how the small two-bedroom house next door had begun to smell “like something died in there”, and that he hadn’t seen his neighbor leave or return in days, which was very unusual.

When police arrived, the front door was unlocked. Officer William Keys, the first one inside, later described the smell as “unmistakable. I knew exactly what we’d find the second we walked in that door.”

He was right.

What they found was the bloodied and decomposing body of Henry “Brute” Hanlon, lying on his back in the middle of a small unremarkable living room, on a dirty and stained carpet. He had been viciously stabbed more than fifty times. One even went so far into Brute that there was an exit wound through his back. Medical examiners would later state that at least seven of his wounds would have been directly fatal, but that he had died within the first few and most of the wounds were technically post-mortem.

The murder had been committed by someone who had a very personal reason for the killing. Investigators believe this individual was “absolutely enraged”.  

Next to his body was the murder weapon, along with a set of buckles and strips of leather that mystified the officers. These were eventually identified as modified leg braces, but rather than straightening bent or injured legs, they forced the wearer to keep their legs at nearly right angles, which would ensure they had to crawl rather than walk. They appeared to be homemade.

Bloodied smears and footprints led the officers down a hallway and to the bathroom, where there was evidence someone had showered, changed clothes, and then left.

The same neighbor who informed police about the smell also remembered seeing, on October 16th or 17th (later determined that it was likely the 17th, the day that Brute did not return home from “work”), a young man wearing an oversized coat, sweatpants, and a too-large t-shirt walk out of Hanlon’s house and down the street. The young man was on the short side, the neighbor said, had an angular face, and a visible scar at the corner of his mouth and another along the side of his face. He had the collar of the coat flipped up, and the neighbor doesn’t recall if he wore a collar or not.

He had dark eyes, and short but shaggy dark hair that seemed to have been cut hurriedly and unevenly, and he waved at Hanlon’s neighbor without pausing or speaking as he walked past.

Tests on fingerprints and DNA located within Brute Hanlon’s secret second home would reveal that the Box Boy who once ran from Nathaniel Benson after his death was the exact same one who ran from Brute Hanlon after murdering him. The Boxie’s fingerprints were all over the murder weapon… and everywhere else, too.

Within Brute’s home, more knives were found, along with what looked like a badly-crafted homemade whip and some other supplies. A few of the things investigators found appeared to be essentially identical to what was found in Nathaniel Benson’s home. Other things were different (“animalization” was mentioned in some of the reports, but what I’ve been able to find is seriously vague for some reason). 

Possibly related, a series of dog leashes purchased from a local pet-supply store were found throughout the home, but there was no evidence of an actual dog. In the home’s main bedroom was a perfectly normal queen-sized bed that was clearly Brute’s, with a small side table, a large dresser, and an attached bathroom. 

There was absolutely nothing outwardly out of the ordinary, besides the room being very plain and impersonal. Makes sense, since Brute almost never slept there. 

In the second bedroom, however, there was army-style cot with a thin blanket and sheet, three folded shirts on the floor, two sets of bloody metal handcuffs hanging off the cot’s frame at the top and bottom, and a bucket next to the bed. Two metal bowls, clearly of a style meant to be a dog’s food and water bowls, were next to the door. One still had water in it. The window was painted and nailed shut, and bars had been installed over the windows.

Investigators determined the bars were on the house when Brute Hanlon purchased it and had been installed by the previous owner. No reason for that installation was ever given.

Investigation revealed trace amounts of evidence of blood, but nothing much. However, the living room and dining area both showed poorly-cleaned bloodstains that were much older than Hanlon’s murder, including discolored patches on the walls.

A contract for a 24/7 “master/slave” style relationship was found in the top drawer of the dresser, signed ‘Pet’ at the bottom, and with Brute’s name alongside it. However, both signatures match Hanlon’s handwriting, and the Boxie is not believed to have actively signed it, as he would be illiterate at best. Plus, Box Boys are not legally allowed to enter into any contract, anyway, since they can’t understand obligations at that level, so even if he had signed it, it wouldn’t have been considered remotely valid.

I mean, not that those contracts are legal, but... you get my point.

Also located in that drawer were more than one hundred photographs showing the Boxie in a variety of compromising situations and positions. Several of these photos had Brute himself clearly visible in them, and a few had other individuals who have since been identified as Brute’s associates in his more illicit activities.

Interrogations of those associates led to more than seven further arrests for illegal gambling, the production and sale of illicit drugs, and illegal weapons sales. Those interrogations are also how we know about what Brute Hanlon was up to in-between Little League games and Girl Scout meetings.

Those associates claim that Brute kept a “secondhand Box Boy”, muzzled him so he couldn’t speak whenever guests were over, and that often ‘poker night’ simply turned into a game where the assorted guests and Brute himself repeatedly assaulted the Boxie. The associates claimed they thought the entire thing was consensual, but frankly… given the overwhelming evidence that the Boxie had to be kept restrained and was often seriously injured by these assaults... that’s doubtful.

Ellen and her children, who had previously been very visible and spoke often to local news stations about Henry’s disappearance, withdrew after his body was found and his second, secret life revealed - and have never given a single public statement or made a public appearance since. 

Ellen moved her children out of Red Hills, moving back in with her own parents, briefly, in northern California. Where they went after that is unknown, but they appear to have left the state and Ellen may have changed her surname. Investigators are firm in their belief that Ellen knew nothing about her husband’s secret life.

I would give my right arm to know what his son and daughter think about it, and if they ever suspected what their devoted dad was up to when he wasn’t at home.

So, what happened to the Boxie after he left the house and disappeared down the block from the witness who saw him?

In short… no one knows for sure.

After murdering Brute Hanlon and cleaning off the evidence that must have been all over him, the Boxie simply fades away. He could have been anywhere, doing anything at all. There is a brief sighting of him on CCTV footage at the local bus station, where he is in line to buy a ticket… and then abruptly looks up, apparently noticing the camera and looking directly into it, then turns and walks quickly away.

The footage is grainy, but the Boxie does appear to be wearing his collar.

He isn’t seen in Red Hills again.

Instead, he reappears one more time before his final murder and disappearance… more than a year later, in a little town right along the border with Nevada.

Part 3 will go into how the investigation into the death of a quiet little oddball named Robert Weber reveals a basement full of skeletal bodies. But our Boxie isn’t the cause.

Instead, Robert Weber’s murder solves a series of related murders police had been stymied by for more than a decade, and a Box Boy who may have been meant to be Weber’s next victim instead turned accidental vigilante with a final killing of his own.

Or maybe I should say, his final killing so far.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @burtlederp @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary 

#whump #jameson bb #box boy #box boy universe #sadistic whumper #pet whump #pet whump tw #dehumanization #dehumanization tw #prostitution mention #referenced non con #non con tw #bbu #epistolary #epistolary fiction #horror fiction #horror writing #original writing #death of whumper #intimate whumper #restrained #captivity #epistolary writing #oh my god this is so fun to do you guys #whump writing #whumpblr

[gloryofluv]

Manor with Manners: The Dateables Reaction to Meeting Your Family

The Brothers decide to invite your family over for a party in the human world. Your two younger siblings follow you. Your parents are amused… and the reactions of the crew are mixed.

(For the sake of the headcanon, you have two GN siblings.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~***~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Escorting your parents and younger siblings inside the manor, you stop a moment. “So, as I told you, the exchange program was a bit odd. Because they were in the middle of nowhere, they all have… particular personalities.”

Your parents nod with smiles. “I’m positive it will be fine. After all, if they went through all this trouble, they must be worth it.”

“Yes, they’re all excellent beings. I know I’ve told you about them, but meeting them, well, they can be a bit much,” you laugh and breathe before walking them into the party…

Manor of Manners: Brothers

Probably the most comfortable about meeting your parents. He wanders over to them after the demons have made their own introductions. Your mother and father seem more than just at ease with him but enjoy his company immensely. They spend most of the time speaking about you and your accomplishments and how thankful he is that you’re alive and his companion.

Oh yeah, he was excellent with your parents. Of course, he is an angel, so that isn’t surprising. However, your siblings are another story entirely. Everything about him reads adult. So, they’re very hesitant with him and suspicious of him. At least until you tell them, he’s the writer of TSL. Levi may have had fans in them, but Simeon now had acolytes! He answered their questions and eased their perception of his lack of cool factor.

The brothers always monopolize your time, and this party was no exception. However, he did manage to check in with you and be positive you’re doing well. He would get you a drink and pull you aside, caressing your cheek with a smile. Thanking you for inviting him rolled off his tongue like golden praise. Let’s just say your dad was happy with his appearance and clear adoration of you.

Simeon and Barbatos made the desserts, and they are a major hit. Your family had never had such exquisite food and ask twice is this how you eat all the time??? You really don’t have an answer, but he recovers for you and claims this is a special event after all. Smooth. Your parents are quite enamored with the angel, and your mother says as she walking out that you should end up with a man just like him. Definitely not subtle. Definitely within earshot of him walking all of you out. Cue sweet blush.

Well, he is introduced as a gifted child and Simeon’s charge. He spends little time with your parents but does thank them for having such a wonderful child. They’re charmed by his sweet demeanor, and when he offers them cookies, they melt. Your parents praise Simeon for his skillful upbringing, and that about does it for him.

He ends up spending more of his time with your siblings. Not because he has to, but because children are fascinating to him. He asks them questions about their life, about their schooling, and dreams. Your siblings are interested in the small angel and ask him several times if he’s really a kid. Luke evades the question but instead talks about how he loves to bake and cook.

Your siblings teach him different games they like to play, and he finds out how rambunctious they are. Clearly, your siblings are more troublesome than you. He keeps that observation to himself and ends up babysitting the children more than needed, wrangling them.

He ends up asking you several questions on the normal state of children. You have to explain that your family isn’t quite average, and he agrees. He’s happy to finally meet your family and asks if he could come to visit them with you next time.

Archaeologist. You told your parents that. Seriously. Well, he knew enough about the world to probably swing such. He had no issue walking right up to them and starting a conversation. Obviously comfortable, he is the only other human here. Held excellent conversations with them about his adventures and their childhoods, your childhood, what you were like in your youth. Inquisitive. Charming.

Your parents find him odd but in a pleasant way. Talks to them more than most but a little less than Lucifer. Offers your father his card, which is fake, but still has a number to reach him. This was regarding if you ever had an issue and didn’t tell him about it. Tells them to leave a message, and his assistant would get a hold of him instantly. Parent approval rating is super high with this crafty sorcerer.

The children are similar. He spends time with the three of you and performs sleight of hand tricks for them. You’ve seen them before, but your siblings are instantly crazy about him. They beg him to do a show. He actually wavers and agrees, asking Asmo to assist him.

Before the show, he pulls you aside and hands you a red rose. He kisses your cheek and tells you he’s grateful to have an experience he hasn’t had in several years. He doesn’t specify what experience it is, but your mother definitely teases you about your not-so-secret admirer during the show. Just an ancient human charming the fuck out of your family and… well, you.

Spends very little time talking to your parents. Not because he doesn’t want to talk to them. No, he was quite busy keeping things in order for the party. You introduce him as the amazing assistant, foundation, and dedicated person that keeps everything with the exchange program in order. Blushes and accepts the showering compliments from you and your parents.

Your parents never go without a drink. He’s on it. He also is quite aware of the schedule, possible hiccups, and ways to create a smooth transition. Definitely seen as the most responsible of the group. Your mother offers twice to help him, but he politely refuses with a small bow. Charmed. Both your parents find him conservatively kind.

The children were another story entirely. Both believed from the beginning that he was a robot. It wasn’t until they tried to spill water on his shoes to see if he sparked that he acknowledged their ploy. Sparks did indeed fly from his fingers as he ducks down to them with a small smile. You stifle your laugh as he tells them not to say a word… probably scaring the bejeebus out of them.

When you enter the kitchen before dinner to check on things, he pulls you aside. He compliments you on your attire, your family, and your demeanor. Ending the conversation with a kiss on your hand, causing a blush to land on your face. With that, he continues preparing plates but does so with the hint of a smile and generally more enjoyment.

He must have studied with Lucifer a long time. Enter prince charming. He speaks to your parents with just the right amount of polite and genuine nature that he usually carries, but less rambunctious. You could almost see him keeping composure and trying to impress them (?) Well, it definitely wasn’t expected.

Your parents definitely enjoy his conversations about the exchange and how excellent their child represented their family. He compliments them on their rearing of you and how you’ve impressed him since the beginning. When you were a distance away, he not so slyly asks your father how he feels about you courting. (Courting, such an aged world, haha.)

Your siblings absolutely love how excitable he is. They teach him tons of little games and eventually drag him into the pool with them and Mammon. The games were ridiculous, loud, and fun. However, you being pulled into the water wasn’t in your plan. He laughs at your surprise and promises he brought you a change of clothes. Obviously, he plans ahead, likely due to Barbatos. Your siblings call him Dia, and he is so excited to have a nickname from them. He is glowing!

After you change into the pretty outfit he brought you, he pulls you aside before rejoining the party. He confesses how wonderful it is to meet your family and hopes you’d be interested in doing this more often. Maybe next time he could come with just you and visit them? Just for a simple dinner? Just the two of you, what do you think?

#om! headcanons #obey me headcanons #om! hcs #om! fluff #obey me humor #obey me fandom #obey me mc #obey me dateables #om! simeon #om! luke #om! solomon #om! barbatos #om! diavolo #obey me demons #obey me angels #obey me sorcerer

[beauvibaby]

figure it out – f.andersen

summary: Freddie andersen falls for his sons nanny or his sons nanny falls for him

warnings: brief smut towards the end, oh and I didn’t proofread this 😅

You stepped out of the car with a nervous smile, you could spot the tall guy with the red hair a mile away, his back was towards you as he pushed his son on the swing.

“He’s a great guy, you’ll get along great, his son is the sweetest.” Your friends words rang through your mind as you smoothed out your blouse, “Mr. Andersen?” You called softly as you approached the swing set, he glanced over his shoulder as he caught his sons swing, the three year old turned to look as well, a smile forming on his face. “Y/N?” Freddie spoke, helping his son hop down. “The one and only.” You laughed, squatting to the little boys height, “I’ve been told that your name is, oh let me think.” You teased, rubbing your chin in thought, the boy giggled at you, hugging the side of his fathers leg, “is your name, Joseph?” You concluded, watching him nod brightly. “Joey.” He mumbled, cheeks flushing pink as his dad ruffled his hair. You held your hand out for the young boy, “my name is Y/N. It’s very nice to meet you, Joey.” You watched as he hesitantly grabbed your hand, giving it a small shake.

“Call me Freddie.” His dad spoke as you stood to your full height, “go play while Miss Y/N and I talk, ok?” Freddie spoke to his son who bounded off to the playground where other kids were playing. You sat down across from him at one of the tables, and your friend was right, she was so right. You and Freddie got along very well, which is so important as a nanny, you need to feel comfortable and be able to talk to the parents you work with. He hired you on the spot, anxious to have you start, the season was just about to kick off, and so he wanted to have you on for a few weeks before he had to start traveling. This was what you did full time, so your schedule was fully open, and of course he told you if you ever felt like it was too much or you needed days off, to tell him, you assured him you would be fine.

It was a few days later when you went to his home,Joey was at preschool, needing to be picked up soon and you were going to go with Freddie so you could be added to the list of people allowed to pick up his son. First though, he showed you around the house, where everything was, what Joey normally liked to do, and eat, assuring you that you were welcome to anything you’d like as well, which everyone always said but you never indulged in. “The pool, he loves to go swimming, but he’s not good at it, but I’m fine with you taking him if you don’t mind going in with him.” Freddie explained as he stepped out onto the patio, his condo overlooking the complex pool. You nodded with a smile, “I think I could handle that.” You laughed breathily as Freddie glanced over at you. “I’ve got an extra car seat, I can put it in for you if you’d like.” He spoke on his way out, knowing you needed one for picking up and driving Joey. “Oh, that would be great, please.” You answered softly, he nodded, grabbing it out of the closet before following you down to your car.

He quickly installed it and you followed him to the school, “Joey is really excited to see you, he didn’t stop talking about you.” Freddie admitted as he opened the door for you, a small thank you fell from your lips, “that’s sweet, I’m excited to see him.” You grinned, it was quite simple to add you to the list, and then you were off to his classroom, following behind Freddie as he knew his way around the school, it was relatively small, so you knew it wouldn’t be too bad once you got used to it.

“Joey, your dads here.” You heard an older woman speak from inside, you stepped up beside Freddie watching Joey look over and see you both standing there. Joey grabbed his bag and ran over, squeezing his fathers legs as the teacher smiled at you, you took the moment to introduce yourself, telling her you’d be taking care of Joey when Freddie was working, so she’d be seeing more of you. You went your separate ways as Joey tugged on your hand, insisting he tell you about his day as you walked alongside him and his dad. You listened intently, throwing in commentary whenever it was required, getting giggles from the young boy who looked much like his father, except slightly lighter hair, strawberry blonde you could say.

“Alright, Joey. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m going to pick you up while your dad works, alright?” You spoke to him, he nodded with bright eyes, climbing into his seat in his dads car. “Bye, Y/N.” Freddie smiled as you began walking to your car, “bye!” You called giddily, excited for your first real day with them, it had been hard when you had to move on from the last family you watched, but this made it exciting all over again.

***

“Alright, Joey, what should we do first?” You asked the four year old as you slipped off his and yours shoes by the front door, “can I have a snack?” He asked with a tilt of his head. “Of course!” You smiled down at him, giggling as he grabbed your hand and pulled you to the kitchen, as if you didn’t know where it was, you let him have the moment. “Goldfish?” He asked hopefully, you nodded and pulled them out for him, tearing the top open on the snack size bag. “Thank you.” He skipped his way to the living room with his bag, Freddie told you he was pretty relaxed about tv time, considering Joey wasn’t very interested in it, mostly watching an episode or two of one of his kid shows before being too antsy to sit still. “What’s your favorite color?” He asked, sitting directly beside you on the couch. “Purple, yours?” You responded, shifting to be facing him, “green!” He answered with a goldfish in his mouth. “I’m sure your dad has told you not to talk with your mouth full.” You teased him, he nodded with wide eyes, covering his mouth with his hand as he murmured an apology. “It’s ok, bud.” You pushed his floppy hair back.

He subconsciously leaned into your hand, and you often wondered if he’s ever had a stable woman figure in his life. Freddie very briefly mentioned his mother, only saying that they don’t speak of her, especially around Joey. “Don’t eat too much, your dad should be home in time for you to have dinner with him.” You reminded the young boy as he continued to munch on the cracker snacks. “Ok, I’m done.” He announced, climbing off the couch and going to put his bag in the trash, you held in a giggle at the way he was so confident in it, it was purely adorable. “Do you want to color?” You offered to him as he came over and stared blankly at you. “Yeah.” He jumped up and down. “Come on miss Y/N.” He cheered, rushing down the hall to his room. You came to the conclusion that he would keep you on your toes, in the best possible way. You spent the rest of the day doing small activities, coloring, playing with building blocks, all the way down to Joey falling asleep curled into your side when Freddie walked in from a late afternoon practice. You shushed him immediately, watching his eyebrows raise as he stepped in closer to see his son asleep under your arm.

“Was he good?” Freddie whispered, squatting in front of the couch, pushing a hand through his sons hair. “So good, he’s an easy kid.” You responded, watching Joey whine and lean away from his dads touch, not really aware of who it was. “Joey, you gotta get up otherwise you won’t sleep tonight.” Freddie explained, running his thumb over his sons chubby cheek. The boy huffed, fluttering his eyes open, reaching for his dad who only grinned, welcoming him with open arms. “Did you have fun with Miss Y/N?” He asked Joey, that seemed to wake the boy up, “yes! She’s so much fun.” He wiggled in his dad's arms, “I have to show you something.” Freddie laughed at Joey’s demand, setting him down and watching him run off. You stood, beginning to gather your things, “tomorrow I have to leave a little earlier than I thought, can you do dinner for him?” Freddie hated to begin placing you under his ever changing schedule, but you knew it was part of the job, you understood what he did, and you knew it required you to be understanding with his schedule. “Of course.” You assured him, looking over as you hear Joey running back over. He showed his dad the drawing you two had done together. “For you.” He spoke to Freddie, giving him the paper.

You made sure you had all your things as they had their little moment.

***

The next few months went on like this, the three of you growing closer, becoming very comfortable with each other, you and Freddie speaking easily, whether it directly related to Joey or not, never inappropriate, he would just tell you something that happened on his road trip, little things.

Freddie was on the road when Joey caught a stomach bug at school, you rushed to pick him up, after the school had called you when Freddie hadn’t answered, he called you frantically as you were carrying Joey through the front door. “It’s alright, I got him.” You assured the frantic father, he started to say he could come home and you instantly gasped. “No! You guys are playing great, I can handle a stomach bug, he’ll be one hundred percent better when you get home.” You assured him, letting him talk to Joey who was half asleep in your arms after throwing up as soon as he had gotten out of your car. The rest of that night was spent with a mini trash can at your feet as Joey was clingy and sticky from sweating, you kissed his warm forehead, shushing him as he sniffled, complaining of his throat burning. “I know bud, come on, let’s get you some water and then try to get some sleep.” You soothed him, carefully standing with him hugging you tightly. “I’m hungry.” He curled into himself as you set him on the counter so you could grab some water for his cup. “Did you want to have some toast? That’ll make your tummy feel better.” You offered to him, he gave you a weak nod as his clammy skin sat against the cool marble countertops.

Eventually he went to bed, feeling a little better, but you left him shirtless, and turned his fan up a speed as he was still running pretty warm, and left his door and yours open so you could hear him better if he woke in the middle of the night, which he did. Emptying his stomach before he could even process what happened, one cleanup later, he was laying beside you in the guest room, the poor boy too nervous to sleep on his own after that. You tossed and turned most of the night as he finally slept, feeling the nausea begin to hit you.

You were able to keep it at bay until the morning, when you woke up to sprint to the bathroom, cringing as you woke Joey in the process. He stayed in the bed, looking towards the bathroom in concern. “Miss Y/N.” He called softly, his feet hitting the floor as he slid off the bed, “I’m fine bub, I’ll be out in a minute.” You spoke as you finally caught your breath, he peeked his head in, frowning as he saw you hunched down over the toilet. He tiptoed in and placed his hand on his back, rubbing it like you had been doing to him the night before. “Oh,” you gasped softly, quickly flushing the toilet and standing up, “are you sick?” He asked with a pout, following you to the sink where you brushed your teeth as the tiredness sat in. “No, no, I’m fine.” You assured him, fake it until you make it right?

You were proved so wrong as the day went on and Joey got his energy back, of course it was a Saturday so he didn’t have school, so he was bouncing off the walls all day while you tried to keep up, telling yourself that Freddie would be back this evening and you’d be able to go home and rest in your own home, not having to worry about a child walking in on you puking. “Miss Y/N got sick from me daddy.” Joey cried to his father as he came in, you’d unknowingly fallen asleep on the couch, but shooting awake when you heard the strangled cry from Joey. “Joey! Joey.” You gasped eyes darting around the room, guilt immediately hitting you when you saw him crying into Freddie’s shoulder as the ginger haired man looked at you in concern. Your heart broke as Joey cried, apologizing for getting you sick. “Oh no, honey.” You cooed, walking over to him, swallowing down your upset stomach, though you were certain by now there was nothing left in it. “It’s alright, I took care of you knowing I could get sick, and I did that because I really really care about you.” You explained to him, placing a hand on his back so he would lift his head from Freddie’s shoulder. “Ok.” He sniffled, “I love you.” The small boy whispered with a sheepish smile, Freddie froze, glancing at his son in shock, “I love you too bud.” You smiled at him, easing Freddie’s worries that it would scare you off. It was common for kids to say that, especially when they spent so much time with someone.

“Are you sure you’re ok to drive home?” Freddie asked as you grabbed your things, you nodded weakly, shooting him a smile, he mirrored it wearily. “Be careful.” He bid you a goodbye, telling you to take the next couple of days to recoup, he only had one practice, and he said he would figure something out with Joey.

When you got home you crashed immediately, but you’d find yourself waking up the next morning to a text from Freddie questioning if you got home safely.

***

A few more weeks had passed, and tonight you were taking Joey to a Leafs game, per his request and Freddie’s agreement. You were both excited, and Freddie would be lying if he said he didn’t find the excitement adorable. He found himself gifting you with a leafs jersey, a plain jersey, despite how badly he was itching to see you in his number. He felt wrong to feel the way he did for you, you were his sons nanny, it was cliche and all the things he never wanted to happen. But he couldn’t help it, you were so incredibly beautiful in his eyes, and the fact that Joey loved you and loved being around you, only made him fall farther and faster. He could see a life with you, with the three of you all together, but he couldn’t say that, he couldn’t risk scaring you off and making his son upset– Joey came before everything, even if it meant he had to hide his feelings for you.

“Woo!” You cheered as the teams skated out for the final period, the leafs up by three, Joey was jumping excitedly beside you, clapping and shouting as his dad waved in the direction of your seats. It warmed your heart as you hoisted him up to your hip so he could see better. They went on to win the game, Freddie nearly getting a shutout, but a puck slipped passed him at the last second. You and Joey were cheering louder than everyone else, or so it seemed to you as you let the young boy bang his hand on the glass, Auston came by, smiling brightly at you, having never properly met you, but he knew oh so much about you.

You did as Freddie said and told the security guard your name and pulled Joey along to the hallway outside the locker rooms. The two of you sitting slumped against the wall as you waited what felt like an eternity for them to start emerging, Auston, one of the few you felt like you knew fairly well from Freddie’s stories, was first, coming over and introducing himself as Joey jumped into his “uncles” arms. You smiled at the sight, “oh, so he did chicken out, got you a plain jersey.” Auston spoke up, your cheeks burned with heat, “what?” You asked softly, Freddie saw the two of you talking and began to panic and started speed walking over, Auston went to speak but Joey shouted for his dad and it distracted him. “Hey buddy.” Freddie grinned, hugging his son tightly, smiling over at you. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” Auston mumbled, smiling slyly as he backed away, leaving the three of you alone. “Good game.” You smiled up at him, Joey kissing his dad's cheek with a grin, his jersey cuffed so his hands were free. “Thank you.” Freddie answered, something a little different in his smile, you took notice of that as you checked the time. “You should head out, don’t you have that thing with your mom tomorrow?” Freddie spoke up, sending your heart into a flutter. You did a double take, hardly even remembering how you’d mentioned that to him earlier in the week, making sure you’d have the day off. “I-uh, yeah, I do. You remembered?” You couldn’t help but let the words fall past your lips as Joey started drifting off with his head on Freddie’s shoulder.

“Of course I did.” He admitted, with a pink tint to his cheeks as he adjusted his arms around Joey. “Thank you, goodnight Freddie, goodnight, J.” You whispered to the half asleep boy, he smiled nuzzling his head closer to his dad, giving you a sleepy wave. “Goodnight, Y/N.” Freddie responded as you started walking off.

You told yourself it was nothing on the drive home, that he was just being polite, that his smile wasn't different even though it definitely was.

***

Auston stared at his older friend incredulously, “it’s family skate!” Freddie protested, Auston raised his eyebrows, “so? She’s family by now isn’t she? Even if you didn’t feel like this for her she’s basically another parent to Joey.” He pointed out, watching the ginger shake his head with a groan. “What if she thinks it’s weird?” Freddie questioned, once again Auston sighed, shaking his head. “Believe, I’m pretty sure she feels the same way for you. She definitely won’t make a move because if she does she’s the one who could lose her job.” Auston reminded him before changing the subject, no longer wanting to argue with the stubborn man.

***

“I don’t know how to skate.” You blurted at the last second, Freddie and Joey looking at you shocked, he’d asked you to go to the family skate with him and Joey, your heart skipped a beat and you said yes, thinking maybe you could teach yourself before then but you hadn’t had the chance. “You don’t know how to skate.” Freddie repeated, nodding his head slowly, “guess we’ll have to teach you.” He added, smiling at Joey who was nodding eagerly. You hesitantly agreed, worried you’d end up with a broken bone. Freddie brushed off your concerns as he told you how to properly tighten your skates as he adjusted Joey’s, letting Auston whisk him off with his sisters who were just as excited to see the little boy. That left you and Freddie alone. “Where’s my teacher?” You joked, looking for Joey, Freddie mocked offense, “he had other clients, I guess I’ll have to suffice.” He offered you a hand to get up from the bench, “thanks.” You whispered, carefully following him the few steps over to the ice. You grimaced as he easily moved around, waiting for you to set the bladed shoe down on it. You did so and immediately tensed up, feeling a little nervous at how slippery it felt beneath you. “Here.” Freddie gave you his hands once again.

You knew deep down it was more than being friendly, but again you kept telling yourself it was just him being nice. Setting a good example for his son, despite him being nowhere near the two of you. “Oh god.” You yelped, squeezing his hands a little tighter as he slowly tugged you along, directing you on how to move your feet. You tried following his instructions, but you were never the most coordinated, “Y/N.” He laughed heartily, a sound you didn’t know you loved until right now. “I’m not going to let you-“ he stopped as you nearly fell but he quickly shot his hands around your waist to grab you, “fall.” He mumbled, nose nearly touching yours. It felt like a moment out of a movie as you looked into his eyes, your heart beating so fast you wouldn’t be surprised if he could hear it. “Freddie.” You whispered, neither of you daring to pull away, he stayed silent, you could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Freddie, people are staring.” You whispered again, he nodded, clearing his throat as he put more space between you. “You good?” He asked, skating towards the exit, he helped you over to the bench once you assured him you were fine. “I need a second, can you just keep an eye on Joey.” He didn’t give you a chance to answer before he was easily walking off in the skates, you took notice of Mitch and Auston quickly going to find him.

Your eyes went wide as you heard a familiar cry, you rushed to your feet having already taken the skates off, you looked around in a panic for Joey, trying to follow the noise, of course it was coming from the ice. Thankfully one of Auston’s sisters was skating over to you with Joey, “he fell and hit his head, I’m sure he’s fine, just a little shaken up.” She explained to you, as Joey was placed into your arms crying. You nodded as he squeezed you, silently telling her it was fine as you turned to tend to the boy, you kneeled in front of him, setting him on the bench. “Hey, you’re ok, bud, you’re tough.” You soothed him, seeing the red patch on his skin where he fell, nothing worse than he could’ve done on the hardwoods at home. “It hurts.” He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “I know, but you took it like a champ.” You assured him, wiping the last of his tears away as Freddie started speed walking over. “Ok.” He mumbled, looking down at his skates, “do you want to take a break?” Freddie asked softly, Joey nodding sheepishly. You loosened his laces and pulled the skates off, he mumbled a thank you before making grabby hands at his dad.

You tried to brush off the awkward silence between you and Freddie, Joey whispered something to Freddie who nodded, setting him down and letting him run off to the food court where Mitch and Steph were. “Y/N, can we talk?” Freddie asked, watching as you nodded slowly, hesitantly. “Did I do something wrong?” You asked instantly, he went wide eyed, “no, no of course not.” He rushed, “I just-on the ice I, ugh, I wanted to kiss you.” He mumbled, not looking over at you as his cheeks burned red. You held in a noise of shock, “why didn’t you?” You questioned, his head snapped up, his brown eyes searching your face for the disappointment that he so clearly heard in your voice. “Because, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You took a leap of faith as you stepped towards him, tipping your head back to look up at him, “you won’t make me uncomfortable.” You assured him. He didn’t hesitate to cup your face and press his lips to yours, he kept it short and sweet, but just enough. He smiled as he pulled away, your eyes stayed shut for a moment as you took in the sensation. Neither of you said anything, it kind of went unspoken as he grabbed your hand, pulling you over to the ice. “Skate with me?” He asked, giving you a smile that warmed your heart. “Only if you don’t let me fall.” You giggled, stepping into the ice with more confidence this time around. “You know I won’t.” He stayed alongside you, squeezing your hand every once in a while as you skated in a few circles around the rink.

Joey was sleeping peacefully in his room, oblivious to the conversation you and Freddie were having in the living room. “Why does this mean for us?” You asked softly, hugging your knees to your chest, looking over at Freddie, unsure of what this new step would mean for you both. “I like you, quite a lot, and I think you feel the same.” He trailed off, stretching his legs out in front of him, slouching slightly against the couch. “I do.” You agreed with him, smiling as he laid his hand on the couch, palm up. You reached over and laced your fingers together, “so that means we figure it out.” He mumbled happily. “Figure it out.” You confirmed.

***

And that’s what you guys have been doing, a little over a month has passed, you were taking it slow, but yet at the same time as you were so intertwined in their life’s, it felt like you’d skipped straight to the good part, being active in Joey’s life, and being the woman that Freddie wanted to come straight home too. He’d offered to find someone else to watch Joey, not wanting you to feel odd about still technically being paid to take care of him, but you loved Joey too much, it didn’t bother you so it didn’t bother Freddie.

“When will daddy be home?” Joey asked sleepily as you closed the book, having just read to him for half an hour as he kept requesting another story. “He’ll be home really late, bub, but he’ll be here when you wake up in the morning, promise.” You assured him as he looked up at you with sleepy eyes, his arm clutched around the teddy bear he adored. “Goodnight, mommy.” He murmured, eyes already falling shut, you held in a sharp breath, unsure on what to say, or what to do. “Goodnight.” You whispered as you tiptoed out of the room, your heart slamming against your chest as you shut his door. Your hands shook as you ran a hand over your face, sighing deeply as you trudged to the kitchen to clean up the mess from dinner, making a plate for Freddie and putting it in the fridge, he’d be home in a couple of hours, and the plate in the fridge had became a tradition of yours long before he confessed his feelings. Your phone started vibrating in your pocket as you washed the dishes, you quickly dried off your hand and answered the phone, putting it on speaker as you continued. “Hey.” You spoke nervously, “hey, everything ok?” Freddie asked instantly, hearing the nervousness in your voice. “Yeah, yes.” You mumbled, “babe.” He cautioned, already tired from the difficult game he had just played and lost, his heart heavy in his chest, wanting to come home two his favorite people. Their playoff spot is now gone, “Joey called me mommy.” You blurted, the line falling silent on both ends as the only noise heard was the water running in the sink.

“Freddie?” You questioned, he cleared his throat, “I’m sorry, I’ll talk to him about that.” He muttered, “no, it’s fine, he was just tired, I’m sure it was nothing.” You rambled, sighing as he gave you a grunt in response. “I’m sorry about the game.” You whispered, he muttered a soft ok. Not speaking after that. You didn’t want to guilt him after all of this, but his reaction was worse than you had expected, and it only made you worry further that this wasn’t at all what he really wanted. “There’s dinner in the fridge, goodnight, Fred.” You muttered, “Y/N.” He started, but then fell silent again, you shook your head to yourself, “goodnight.” He whispered before hanging up.

You climbed into the bed that night with tears in your eyes. Worried about the entire situation, you knew it would be hard, adjusting, it wasn’t the typical relationship, it was more complicated.

Freddie checked on Joey before padding down the hall to see you, it wasn’t odd for him to find you in his room, it’s never been anything more than just sleeping beside each other, and he could tell he’d upset you on the phone, but when he walked into his room and didn’t see you, he panicked for a moment. He cursed to himself as he quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants, now walking to the other side of the house where the guest room was.

He stepped into the room, looking at the way you were asleep with a tissue clutched in your hand, your phone landing beside your head when you’d finally given into the sleep. He took the few steps over to you, carefully placing your phone on the nightstand, pulling the tissue from your grasp, you didn’t stir, surprisingly until he was climbing in behind you. “It’s just me.” He murmured when you inhaled sharply, you stayed silent, relaxing when he placed a hand on your side. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, kissing the back of your shoulder, “I’m sorry too.” You sighed, rolling to your back to look at him. “You didn’t do anything.” He furrowed his eyebrows at you, tucking some hair behind your ear. “For the game, for acting the way I did when you reacted like that.” You explained, leaning into the hand he had on your cheek, “it’s alright.” He lowered his head down to kiss you, it was lazy and sloppy, the both of you feeling a need to be close.

You ran your hand over his chest, lightly pushing him to his back as you followed him, straddling him gently, his hands dipped under your shirt, caressing your bare skin, relishing in the faint moan that fell from your lips as you pulled away to breathe. “We don’t-“ you cut him off, “I want too.” You looked down at him with hooded eyes, he nodded, slowly pushing the hem of your shirt up. He swallowed as he watched you pull it off, letting it fall on the floor beside the bed. “Baby.” His hands slid up your sides, over your chest, his calloused fingers touching every inch of exposed skin. “Freddie.” You hummed, tipping your head back, rolling your hips in response. It wasn’t rushed or urgent, it was slow as you both pushed and pulled on the remaining clothing. Freddie sat up to kiss you, keeping himself steady with one hand as he wrapped his other arm around your back as you sunk down on him. You dug your nails into the back of his shoulder as you had to adjust to him, his lips trailed across your neck, murmuring sweet praises. You began to rock your hips, loving the way Freddie moaned against your shoulder as he kept your bodies close together. “You feel so good.” He praised as you began moving with more speed, between the tiredness and the emotions you’d been feeling, it didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to tighten in your stomach.

Freddie took over, flipping you to your back, moving in and out of you with his own urgency as you clenched around him. Your gasps and moans only fueled him on as he found his own release, “Freddie.” You tilted your head back, cursing softly as he rested half on top of you, catching his breath, you ran a hand through his hair, his lips ghosting across your throat as he worked his way back up to your lips. “I love you.” He murmured, “I should’ve said that before.” He added quickly, releasing how bad it made him look to be saying that in this position. “I love you too.” You sighed, you guys would figure it out, just like you had done so far.

***

Joey tugged on Freddie’s jacket, pulling him away from where the two of you were swaying to the music, you watched Freddie bend down to let Joey speak in his ear, now six years old. Freddie nodded, winking at you as he made his way over to his family, “I want to dance with you, mommy.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, his head resting on your stomach, having just hit a growth spurt, already showing his fathers height, the sight of him hugging you in your white gown, and him in his little suit just warmed your heart. “Of course, baby.” You whispered, placing a hand on his back and one on his arm as he swayed with you.

You figured it out, just like you always did.

Taglist: @heybarzy @literarycharleton @kiedhara @mandypants95

#imagine #imagines #Frederik Andersen fic #Frederik Andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen #Freddie andersen fic #Freddie andersen imagine #Frederik Andersen smut

[burnedbyshoto]

the countdown

— A reflection on what New Years mean and a New Years kiss.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warnings: fluff, 2020 year rant kinda idk man

word count: 1,679

a/n: this was supposed to be a drabble, but I don’t know how to shut the fuck up at all. I made It as short as I possibly could, took 5 rewrites. so, take this huzzah. check out the rest of the collab here!

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New Year’s Eve.

It’s a day of endings, a time of reflection, recollection, and remembering.

Time is a finicky thing, convoluted and twisted in ways that people often spend a lifetime trying to understand but can only come to the conclusion that time is memories.

New Year’s Eve is the time to think about what you did in these past three hundred sixty-six days.

Did you have any New Years’ resolutions this year?

Most people are basic, routine, repetitive. It makes sense that the thing most people wish for every year is to make more money, to lose their hated weight, to become more confident, sexier, and to travel the world. Everyone wants some form of weird self-love because we are humans, and humans are so desperately craving to find happiness in life, taking it day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute.

Happiness is weird too.

Happiness is a mixture of chemicals in your brain that controls whether you feel normal or not.

Serotonin, dopamine, endorphins.

A terrific trio that the world always sought to have.

It’s not so easy to have all three; humans are made so weirdly after all. Too many chemical imbalances, receptors, and creators not perfect, and sometimes it’s not even that. It can just be the way the sun shines just too brightly through the cloudy skies, and suddenly that trio is gone.

So, humans consume.

We consume and consume and consume.

This year more than most.

Social interactions are needed to be human, many of us found out this year. You may love four people with all your heart, but going a near entire year with just four people when you’re used to so much more can be challenging, strenuous, exhausting.

But we remember the good things that made us happy this year.

We remember the way that the cold air whipped across our bare faces and the way that huddling up with your friends makes you both warm and cold. Reminisce in the way that the sun shines in deep rich purples and pinks as it breaks through the horizon, a simple, powerful portrait for your eyes only because art will never be seen the same by people who look.

We remember the terrible things this year too. The days were you were an asshole, a jerk, a bitch. How you whined and groaned about nothing. How you were mean for nothing. How you lied and cheated and stole. Admitting to it is one thing, but being able to look back on it is another thing.

You’re human; you have to remind yourself, part of being human is making mistakes. We humans are full of errors from our basic biology, so when you make them, recognize them, and make an effort to be better.

Perfection is not what you should seek, but the betterment of yourself and to others.

We remember the sad, too. Bowed heads as we count the ones we lost this year, tears streaming down your face because they died and because you didn’t get that promotion that you worked tirelessly on. Failure is something we all know of; we all experience it, in the many different shapes it comes in, and yet we are still so easily embarrassed by it.

Failure is okay. You can’t be better or grow to be better without failing once, twice, how many times it takes.

But it is New Year’s Eve, so we try not to think about the latter two; we celebrate the future of a new beginning, not the meaning of the past year.

We celebrate because we humans are selfish, loud, demanding.

We scream to the heavens on this day because fuck the world, we made it to another year, and for that, we demand a celebration.

You know this; you always have.

New Year’s Eve is yet another disgusting, selfish holiday, but you don’t mind it.

You want to be selfish.

You want to see your friends and family on the last day of the year and into the new one and groan loudly when someone exclaims that: ‘wow, y/n, I haven’t seen you in a whole year! Don’t hug me; I haven’t showered since last year!’

It’s stupid to be selfish in this way, but it weirdly comforts you. A weird promise that you might not be doing all too bad in this world, in your life. 

But right now, you’re exhausted, so terribly exhausted, you can’t even fight to keep your eyes open.

It’s dark outside. The moon is shining brightly in the vast wide sky, stars barely visible with the city pollution and the great light of the rock in the sky. It’s not a white New Years’ Eve, not this year in Japan at least (a kid with some stupid crazy quirk had actually managed to ban snow for six weeks). In the woods is a house that is large, bright, and warm. There isn’t much going on in the house from the distance, but the closer you near it, the louder the voices become, the more abundant it becomes that there are over twenty loud, near annoying adults who are playing a million drinking games.

Aoyama is hanging on the ceiling, demonstrating how he can get his laser beam to swirl around him like glass art as he spins.

Mina breaks dances on the pool table because someone told her to “break it,” and she might be a bit too drunk to realize what she was doing was not what was asked. Kirishima and Kaminari are stumbling against each other, laughing as they cheer her on, their eyes crossing as they watch the pink girl send ball after ball unintentionally into the holes.

Tsuyu is not surprisingly winning a game of beer pong against Iida. They’re only allowed to use their quirks for this game, and her tongue is better suited for this than Iida’s pipes.

Uraraka is still doing a kegstand, her early proclamations of how her zero-gravity training has made her the keg stand champion seem to be entirely accurate.

Ojiro is currently trying to find a word that rhymes with tail for the Kings Cup game he is playing with Shoji, Tokoyami, Dark Shadow, and Mineta. They’re undoubtedly the drunkest of them all, this is the seventh round of the binge drinking game, and all five of them have yet to tap out.

Kouda is begging Midoriya and Bakugou to stop taking shots as they both pulled the ‘take seven shots’ Jenga piece on the Drunk Jenga set for the third time. They’ve played as a team after being assigned as ‘mates’ in Kings Cup two hours ago. Poor Kouda is not set out to handle these assholes and having a drunk, instigating Sero as his own teammate is not helping in the slightest.

There’s a boom in the kitchen that rattles the windows. Still, no one even flinches as Sato, Hagakure, and Jirou stumble out of the kitchen, their blushes basically radiating light onto the walls as cake mix drench their bodies. Hagakure screams out for their uncaring old class to hear that sonic waves do not cook cake mix.

Momo, who is sitting in a rocking chair, sips her drink smoothly. It’s her eleventh bottle, and the creation quirk holder is barely tipsy; her metabolism was untouched.

And Shouto?

Well, that was easy.

He’s sitting on one of the lover’s seat, his body as upright as he could be, your body flushed to his side as you sleep. Shouto is drinking his own mixed drink that was prepared for him by you, still cool in his right hand. He’s warm, content, and at peace even with the chaos going on behind him. It was normal.

Shouto shifts his gaze over to your sleeping face, his chest warming pleasantly at the sight of your squished cheek and small puffing breathes. How you got so exhausted today was beyond him, he did warn you that daring everyone to start drinking the instant everyone woke up today was going to backfire, and it seems he was correct.

His hand reached for your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek softly, the warmth of your flesh nipping as his colder fingers. You sighed contently in your sleep.

Chuckling, Shouto rested his head against yours, his heart speeding up quickly when you buried your face even further into his neck. Small smacks of your lips raising goosebumps as you spoke of your content even in your sleep.

By god, did he love you.

“Alright, everyone, please make your way over to the living room! We have one minute till the New Year!” Momo yells above the group's noise, and somehow everyone hears her and makes their way over.

“Aw! Look at y/n-chan! Knocked out like a baby!” Mina coos delightfully, her lips in a pout and her eyes shining brightly as she stumbles onto the armrest by you.

Shouto debates whether he should tell Mina to back off or to agree with her, but it’s far too late for him to decide when numbers begin flashing on the screen.

“FIVE!”

Shouto feels you stirring, your head lifting off his shoulder and your bleary eyes gazing into his. You look tired, sleepy, drunk, and oh so confused.

“Wha’s goin’ on?” you slur to Shouto, voice thick and husky.

“FOUR!”

“Looks like you woke up just in time,” Shouto comments, his fingers swiping at your face, fixing up the slightly ruined makeup. “It’s the countdown.”

“THREE!”

“Oh, good,” you sigh, your arms softly wrapping around Shouto as if he was made of clouds. Shouto laughs at the delirium still trapped in your eyes. “I made it.”

“TWO!”

“Thank you for making this year wonderful,” Shouto sincerely states, his hand setting down his drink and wrapping around your waist, pulling you toward him.

“ONE!”

“Thank you for loving me,” you cheekily sigh, and with the one still painted on the wall, Shouto pushed forward, kissing your chapped, sticky lips as the year ended and the new one began.

“HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

“I’ll always love you.”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.07

Decrepit Old Grump

9/29/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,510

Warnings: language, smut, fluff, angst

A/N: Y’all, I have not edited this chapter much at all. I edited the first part and that’s about it. I’m too tired to edit and I may come back and edit later but I didn’t want to make y’all wait anymore as I already made y’all wait a long time before I came back to it. I’m sorry if it stinks. <3 If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

Bucky is gutted.

He can feel the weight of his guilt growing as you sit there on the beach staring out at the crashing waves, sky turning an inky purple where it kisses the sea as the sun sets.

Your skin is enveloped by ocean wind, briny and thick it coats you with sea salt making you sticky with its humidity.

In this light, you’re glowing. A beauty. With tears slowly rolling across one cheek then the other as your sorrow wounds you repeatedly. Over and over you play it all in your head. Remembering the sounds of the chopper, the violent swish of tall grass and palms, gunpowder saturating the air as he lays on the ground and you panic over him pressing your hands against his wound.

Reaching up, he feels the spot, pressing his palm flat against the spot now healed and only a little sore.

The slump of your shoulders, the dead weight of your hands as they rest at your sides on the sand without moving, Bucky can see it all from where he stands by the hut.

You’ve given up. All hope gone. Not only are you stuck here on this island forever, but you were betrayed by Ryan.

Someone that Bucky suddenly wonders might have meant more to you than he realized. A real spark.

Of course, Bucky knows that you love him. It’s in your eyes, or it was before you were both permanently marooned here because of him—this is all his fault after all.

Still, maybe you cared more for Ryan than you were willing to admit? Could you have loved him too?

The two of you had been close. Despite your suspicions, your gentle guarding against him, could your spark have turned into real feelings?

Bucky hates this thing, this oozing pit of green sludge he knows is jealousy.

He knows he shouldn’t feel it. This is bigger than who anyone might be attached to emotionally or attracted to physically. This is life and death.

With being left here, all hopes of a real future are gone.

No jobs. No family. No friends. No children…Why had he gone and told you he wanted to have them with you?

How much must that be hurting you now?

Idiot.

Of course, with you hating him now, maybe the very thought of having kids with him is repulsive? He’d never been able to see himself as a father before you. Maybe this is all for the best? No matter how much it hurts to think.

He hesitates, waiting to see if you’ll turn or rise. You haven’t eaten all day and he knows its depression keeping you anchored here to this beach. A final depression. Dark and consuming.

However, he also knows that despite your giving up, even now your eyes scan the horizon for possible ships. Not in hope, merely habit.

When you continue not to move, he breathes in deep to gather his courage and moves towards you slowly.

You don’t even twitch at the sound of his approach.

You don’t even care that he’s there. Do you?

You’ve been so distant since Ryan left, sleeping in his now empty room on the floor. Bucky was willing to give you space at first.

How you must not be able to look at him…

The pit in his stomach widens, bringing with it painful aches of missing you pressed into his side. He misses the smell of your skin and the touch of your lips against his throat when you’d wake up in the middle of the night, searching for comfort.

He's lost you and he has only himself to blame.

However, whether you hate him or not, he can’t let you keep neglecting yourself the way you have. He can’t keep his distance anymore. Not completely.

He’s still responsible for keeping you alive, even more so with Ryan’s deception.

He'll force you if he has to. He needs you. Even if you can never love him again, he needs to see, hear, and know that you’re well.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hiss of the sand as he walks to you is soft with deliberate steps taken towards you then he stops.

Beside you, Bucky crouches and he penetrates your peripherals, filing you with wretched agony at the scowl in place on his beautiful face.

That face had smiled at you once. Kissed you. Assured you of safety. Loved you.

Now…how can he not despise you after your misguided trust?

How can he not hate you for your reckless friendship with that stupid man. You’re so angry at him you can’t even think his name.

You don’t want to remember him, but your heart will not let you forget.

You’d thought it so many times. So often. He’s a good man. A good father. He’s my friend and he’d never do anything to hurt us.

How very wrong you’d been. How foolish and trusting and generally stupid.

“Get up.” Bucky orders, his voice hard like it had once been so long ago when he’d dragged you up from the beach and through the trees where he’d put the fuselage.

You thought you’d heard the last of that voice. If he hates you, you suppose it makes sense that he’d adopt it once again. Why would he speak with love to you when he clearly can’t trust you or your judgement?

It hurts to hear his dislike of you, you can’t bear to see it to. So, you keep your eyes trained on the horizon, looking at nothing.

You don’t answer him either. This upsets him.

“You can’t keep ignoring me. And you can’t keep sitting here, crying your eyes out, not eating.” He huffs, gets to his feet and towers over you, legs spread slightly as he waits for you to look at him maybe, hands flexing in and out of fists.

What does he want from you? How can he expect you to respond to him when he’s like this after months of feeling his love?

He hadn’t even stopped you when you came back to the hut and told him you were going to sleep in the other room.

“Whatever you want.” He’d said in monotone, sitting stiff by the fire after you’d just cleaned, stitched, and dressed his wound.

He let you go; let you sleep away from him. You’d almost hoped he’d ask you back into your room, but he didn’t, and you weren’t bold enough to ask to come back when he so clearly didn’t want you.

“This isn’t helping anyone, Y/N. Get up.” Bucky chastises, driving a nail through your heart with every stern word. “Are you seriously just going to sit there?”

Your lips twitch tempted to shout at him to leave you alone. Very nearly you look up at him and yell at him to let you starve and die because that would leave him unburdened and free of you. But you picture it, his face, all scowly and angry. A hate in those steel ice eyes that had once overflowed with adoration and love.

No, you can’t look at him. It’ll break your heart more than it already does to wake up in the mornings without him at your side.

You mash your lips together, refusing to answer him and tilt your chin up in defiance.

It happens so quickly and you’re all of a sudden upside down, or…close to it.

Bucky swoops down and grabs you, tossing you over his shoulder and you’re not sure how he does it but he won’t let go and he doesn’t seem to have trouble lifting you—he pulled a literal piece of a plane inland so why would he?—as he turns and marches towards the tree line.

“Bucky! Let me go!” You scream, startled as you bounce against his back.

Trying desperately to find a hold on something, you push yourself against his waist but your hands keep slipping over his hips where you finally take hold of the loops of his jeans and use them to anchor yourself so that you’re not bobbing up and down as much.

“Bucky please-” You begin, an attempt to plead with him because this is the closest you’ve been to him in a month and you can smell him. The heat he radiates, just a bit hotter than normal, penetrates every fiber of clothing you’re wearing.

“I don’t know where the hell you got the idea that this behavior is alright. You want to starve yourself? You do it once I’m dead. Do you have any idea what you look like? What you smell like?” Bucky argues, strutting faster as he swerves between the trees.

The embarrassment you feel overwhelms you into silence because you don’t know what you look like or what you smell like. It must not be good if it’s made Bucky this angry. You feel shame suddenly that the man you love is seeing you like this.

For it to get so bad that he breaks whatever distance he’d wanted to keep between the two of you, it must be disgusting.

Your heart is suddenly thrumming for a whole new reason, and you’re very aware of how close to your butt Bucky’s face must be and with his enhanced senses, just how well he must be able to smell.

“Bucky put me down.” You squirm, pushing against him and pulling yourself up enough to grip his shoulders and hold yourself up a little straighter as the fear in you builds.

His arms only tighten around your legs and waist, refusing to loosen his grip as he continues to march forward.

“Bucky…” You push against him harder, a frenzy taking you over as you kick and squirm, hoping to maybe knock him off balance but instead he stops and suddenly, you’re weightless.

You fall for what feels like forever as your face is overtaken with shock. You see his frown as you fall, his eyes boring into yours until you hit water and sink down into cool green waters.

You gasp, swallowing water but quickly find your footing and push yourself up from the floor of what you realize is the bathing pool that Bucky had rebuilt closer to the hut.

You gasp and choke as you surface, eyes wide with panic as you push the water out of your face and try to catch your breath.

“You wanna let yourself fall apart, you do it on the other side of the island where I can’t watch you do it, because I won’t sit here and put up with it, Y/N. I can’t.” Bucky points at you, his finger firm.

“What the fuck, Bucky?!” You gasp, still wheezing from swallowing water.

“I get that this isn’t exactly an ideal situation.” He starts, pacing a step away from you before coming right back up to the lip of that pool and presses his hand to his chest. “I’m not innocent. I’ve been paying for the crimes I’ve committed ever since Steve pulled me back from the brink and I know that I’ve done a lot of wrong since. Getting you stranded here on this island…if I could take it back, I would. If I could fix it so that you weren’t on that plane when they blew it up, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I get that this is my fault. I understand that them wanting me dead has put you in this fucked up situation, stuck here with no possible escape, and hate me if you want to. That’s fine, I’m used to it. I get it if you never want to speak to me again, but please stop neglecting yourself. If you want to punish me, I’ll think of some other way for you to do it, but please…please don’t make me the reason you die here because I couldn’t stand it, Y/N. I’ll find you a way off of this place.

“I’ll build a raft or a bigger fire or…I’ll think of something, just…I need you to eat something. I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to care. Don’t let what I did hurt you more than I already have.

“I’ll fix this. I promise. Alright?” He’s still fierce in his words, but slowly his anger has receded into begging.

Before you stands a desperate man, asking you to keep living and all you can think about is one thing.

“I…” You swallow hard, fighting the knots in your stomach and the aching squeeze of your heart as a fleeting hope takes shine within it. “I don’t hate you, Bucky.”

The words are mostly air, still too stunned by his speech and certain parts of it in particular to catch your breath fully from the sudden dunk into very cool water.

He takes a breath, staring at you as you look at his feet, shaking your head before finally meeting his eyes.

You blink against the water still dripping down from your hair into them and wipe at the drops that get trapped in your lashes.

“What?” He asks, his own voice rising in pitch in confusion.

“I don’t hate you.” You repeat, this time strongly with a voice so clear that the birds making nest for the night go quiet. “I could never hate you. How could you even think that?”

You lick your lips, wiping more water away from you face while Bucky stares at you, blinking as he processes the words you’ve spoken. It’s clear in his expression the flurry of thoughts that must be speeding through his mind.

“But you moved out of ro-” He begins, but you don’t let him finish, wrapping your arms around yourself to battle the chill that’s begun to set in.

“Because I thought that you were angry with me…because I trusted him. I kept insisting that he was our friend and I was so…so stupid for believing him.” Your voice breaks, pent up sorrow breaking through as you look away from him because you can’t bear to see the look of disappointment on his face when you admit your crimes.

He says nothing.

“If I’d been more careful maybe we might have noticed something sooner? If I hadn’t been so won over by the story of his kid or the way that he pretended to be nice, I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m sorry that I didn’t-”

There’s a splash and you blink against the rush of water. You have no time to search for the source because he’s there, in front of you, his hands wiping away the water from your cheeks.

He presses himself so close that there isn’t a part of you that isn’t touching him. You tilt your head to look at him, meet his eye and see a desperation in his own as his lips curl into a small sad smile. His eyes are soft, his brow is raised at the center as he drinks in your own expression of surprise.

“You really don’t hate me?” He wonders, voice soft and sweet and full of fading anguish.

“No.” You nearly sob, shaking your head as much as you can in his vice-like hold. “I could never hate you, Bucky. I’ve told you before. You’re my hero. My savior in more ways than one stupid. I love you.”

He closes the distance between you, fierce hungry lips painfully pressed to yours until he gets his fill then pulls back to sweep more water away from your cheeks.

“I’m not angry.” He whispers, reaching down to wrap his right arm around you. “I could never be angry with you for seeing the good in people. How can I when that’s what made you dumb enough to love me?”

You laugh, ecstatic and slightly insulted. “Did you just call me dumb?”

“Fuck yeah, I did.” Bucky shakes his head. “Stupid, lovable, dummy. You’re a hothead too. I hate that in a woman.”

His teasing fills your belly with butterflies and sweet warm tumbles.

You laugh again, then reach behind his neck to pull him down for another kiss, this time holding it for longer as you let your lips meld with his. Soft and fluid as a month’s worth of insecurity washes away in the water of the pool.

He sighs, angling your head with his metal hand as he parts his own lips and the heat of his breath parts your own. He deepens the kiss and you welcome him, a small whimper breaking the silence as you melt against his chest.

He pulls back to tilt his head the other way, “Will you come sleep in our bed now?” He asks, before meeting your lips again.

You nod.

“Mmmph.” He moans, pushing you back until you hit the pool’s wall.

He nudges your legs open and you lift yourself easily in the water and wrap them around his waist as he presses in against you, flesh hand sliding down to your bottom to grab a firm hold.

You break the kiss, gasping as his lips drift to your neck until a sudden flash draws your eyes upwards followed by a sudden boom.

Bucky pulls back, staring up at the sky with you.

“This’ll hit in half an hour.” Bucky guesses, and you know it might hit sooner.

“Bad?” You wonder, dropping back down to your feet as you continue to stare at the canopy as it begins to sway more strongly as the wind picks up.

“Bad enough.” Bucky frowns. “I need to go get the tools secured in the hut and check the nets.”

“I’ll help.” You offer and begin to move around him, but he turns back to you, planting you firmly against the wall.

“No. I wasn’t lying when I said you need a bath. You don’t stink as bad as I made it seem, but you haven’t been taking care of yourself, kitten. I’m not okay with what.” He’s stern again but this time, you can’t blame him.

“I’m sorry.” You allow, feeling shame once again for your inability to be strong through this.

“Don’t be.” He shakes his head. “This isn’t your fault. Or mine. We’re just here and we lost our way for a bit. I should have spoken up sooner. We’ll do better, right?”

You nod, eager to move on from this hiccup. “I’ll do better.”

“We’ll do better, Y/N.” He corrects, reaching up to caress your head. “There should still be some soap in the basket. I’ll bring you a change of clothes.”

He pulls himself out of the pool, untying the basket where you keep the soap you’d made up in the branches of a tree away from where animals might find them. He places it beside the edge and as another flash fills the sky, he hurries back towards the beach to prepare for the coming storm.

~~~~~~~~~~

The hut shakes, a charge fills the air, and you sit up gasping. Clutching the thing almost worn blanket close, you turn your head this way and that, searching for the chopper.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Warm arms wrap around your shoulders, pull you closer as the thunder rumbles into nothing.

The rain is still pelting the outside of the hut, a constant stream of white noise as rain and wind thrash the beach and your island home.

The storm has gotten worse over the past few hours, the waves are loud and chaotic, rising higher than they’ve risen since you’ve been here. The beach and campfire where you usually sit and cook are under water.

Bucky building the hut on stilts has paid off and you curl into him as he drags you back down to lay in the plane cushion bed.

“It’s alright, it’s just the storm.” He promises, still half asleep.

You turn towards him, wrapping your arms around him, placing your palm flat against his chest.

“The storm.” You repeat, still mostly asleep yourself.

As your heart begins to slow, you reach up to trace the shape of his ear, slipping your hands up into his hair you pull him down for a kiss.

He gives it to you, his lips gentle and coaxing as he responds eagerly to the attention.

“Bucky…” You fret, thunder overhead shaking the hut once more as lightning flashes and illuminates the inside of the room.

The sky is a black void of weather, scary and unyielding as mother nature asserts her dominance over both your lives.

“It’s okay…” He promises, traces the curve of your body from hip to shoulder, then back down to your hip.

You snuggle closer, pulling him down for another kiss and this one he holds, his tongue slipping past your lips.

Toes curling, you sigh, pushing yourself up over him for only a second before he rolls you onto your back.

Already mostly naked, Bucky pushes his briefs down then pulls your panties aside and without hesitation pushes into you, stretching your heated cunt with his thick throbbing cock.

Both of you freeze, feeling each other for the first time as the sky flashes and thunders.

His mouth finds yours swallowing your moan as you both give in consequences be damned because you’re both here. You’re stuck, deserted, with no hope of rescue and you love him so much.

He thrusts into you, burying himself deep.

It’s a hazy dream, the pleasure his body pulls from you, until he’s pushing your legs open wide and you obey because you want him closer, deeper.

Suddenly the world is crystal clear. Sharp and detailed and you can feel the tip of his cock sliding against the walls of your cunt, prodding and sliding making your legs quiver and flex.

“More…” You beg, hands raking against taut shoulders, tracing cool metal. “…Bucky…”

He pushes himself onto his knees, angling himself up further until he’s mounted you and you’re trapped in the cage of his arms.

He grunts, driving you mad with the sounds he’s making because they’re better than anything you could have dreamt up.

You pull him down until he’s got his full weight on you, crushing you down as his hips continue to thrust.

The wind grows more violent, the rain falls harder. The lightning feels endless and the thunder never stops but you hear none of it as Bucky’s lips kiss your neck, his tongue tracing circles before his teeth bite into your throat.

The heat in your belly swells over, down into your hips and pelvis and your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Toes curled, arms locked around Bucky’s shoulders, you stop breathing.

Bucky keeps pumping, drilling into you faster as he chases his own release then he stutters, hips clapping against your thighs as he spills into you, grunting with every thrust.

He doesn’t stop. He won’t stop. Even when he’s finished, his lips trail across your skin, searching for more.

He reaches down and pushes the bottom of your shirt all the way up, exposing one breast which he takes into his mouth, nibbling gently.

“More?” He checks, moving to the other, never once pulling away.

“Never stop.” You hope, pushing him until he’s on his back.

As you settle over him, hands pressed against his chest, he licks his lips and traces your sides. Stopping at your hips, he licks his lips in anticipation.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Bucky!” You call, searching the beach in the distance, too tired to walk all the way out to the nets.

“Yeah?” He calls back, his shout distant enough that you know he’s in the water just beyond the rocks.

“Lunch is ready. Come eat before it gets cold.”

“Let me just finish with this trap.”

“Okay but hurry up.” You relent, knowing that he won’t come until he’s satisfied.

You move the fish away from the flame, careful and quick as they’re hot. Placing the extras on one of the trays you’d salvaged way back when from the plane, you move to take your usual seat beside the fire.

Ten months.

It’s been ten months of being stranded on the island. The two made bearable by the fact that Ryan’s betrayal had helped you and Bucky push into a new stage of intimacy.

You have sex often. Maybe not everyday as sometimes you’re both too exhausted to do more than sleep, but often enough that you’ve begun to wonder if you’ve made the right choice to give in.

There is no doubt in your mind that should a baby come, you and the child would be safe and well kept with Bucky at your side. Although the fear still lingers that something could go wrong, with either you or the baby, you’re sure that if you weren’t around to care for it, Bucky would do an amazing job as protector and keeper.

He doesn’t talk about it, but you know he, like you, wonders.

You’d stopped having regular periods well before you and Bucky began to have sex, so there would be no real way for you to know until you got big enough to show.

With a sigh, you push these thoughts away. This worry is only one of many and there are others much more important than a possible child.

With the storms getting worse, and hurricane season almost over, Bucky is sure that the island will see one more storm before it’s really over.

The idea of being caught in more scary weather fills your tummy with big bats and you want to forget the worry almost as soon as you remember it.

You unwrap your fish and pull it apart, careful to avoid the bones as you pick it to pieces and begin to eat.

You’re almost halfway through when Bucky finally settles in across from you, sighing with relief as he smiles and reaches for his plate.

“Everything good with the nets?” You check, mouth full of fish.

“Yeah, they’re fine. Just had to cast it out a little farther. Season’s changing so we might have to look for new fishing spots.” He explains and tears into his fish hungrily.

“We need to find more boar.” You sigh, pulling more bones from your fish. “We need the protein.”

He meets your gaze, blinking slowly as he watches you eat before nodding.

Neither of you has to vocalize your worry about protein and your health in case of a pregnancy.

“I think I spotted some yuca root on the far side of the island too. Some nopal and jícama too. We’ve been eating a lot of fruit; we’ll need to mix in some vegetables…for…it’ll be good for you.” He smiles, trying so hard to be relaxed.

“Vegetables…” You lament, moaning with desire for the long-forgotten tastes.

“I know. I’d love some good french fries.”

“Oh my-why would you bring up french fries?!”

Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. Just popped in there.”

Nervously, you lick your lips of the flavor of fish and set aside your leaf and tray.

“Bucky?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look up, focused instead on his food.

“We should make plans, just in case.”

“Not yet.” He sighs, the corners of his mouth curving down.

“We need to.”

“Not yet.” He insists.

“Bucky.” You press.

“Damn it, Y/N,” He looks up at you, shaking his head in resistance. “Not yet.”

“We have to, babe.” You smile sadly, shrugging your shoulders. “You may not want to think about it, but we have to. We gave in and with that comes the chance that the two of us could turn into three and we can’t afford to put this off. If something happens to me while I’m giving birth-”

“Okay!” He cuts you off, nodding. His eyes a little wild as he thinks quicky. “I agree, we need to make plans, but right now I’m not worried about what could happen in months. I need to find the caves Ryan was talking about and take some rations over there so that we have somewhere to go when this hurricane inevitably hits.”

“It might not come.” You argue, more hopeful than right.

“It will.” Bucky assures you. “And I can’t afford to get distracted until we’ve gotten all that setup. We will have this conversation just not yet. Okay? I know you’re worried. So am I.”

“And excited?” You check, a little timidly because yes, although you’re worried, you can’t deny the appeal that having Bucky’s baby holds.

A little one running around that looks like him? Sounds like him? The baby could very well look like you and sound like you too and that wouldn’t be so bad, but a little Bucky is too appealing not to hope for.

Bucky leans towards you, reaching to place his hand over yours as his eyes soften. “Of course, kitten. Yes, I’m excited too. It would be much sooner than I was hoping but I meant it when I said that I wanted this with you.”

Relief washes over you and you’re able to relax a little.

“But we’ll have time for that after I make sure I have somewhere safe for us to go.” He takes his hand back, focusing on his food once again.

You allow him to eat in silence for a bit, leaning back against the palm log as you watch the horizon with unfocused eyes.

A terrible thought has been growing in your mind for a while now. A thought you’ve been too scared to speak aloud for fear of robbing Bucky of his hope. The more determined he gets though you know you can’t avoid it any longer.

“Bucky?”

“Hm?”

“Bucky what if he lied about that too?” You try to subdue your fear as best you can, but you know you can’t hide it all. “What if he was dropped off on the island at some point and then came and joined us as the co-pilot-”

No, wait. You do remember seeing him on the plane though. He really was the co-pilot. Still…

“What if he jumped out and got picked up and then sent back to make sure you were dead? What if there are no caves? What if there’s nowhere safe on the island to sit through a stronger hurricane than the one when we crashed here?”

“The mountains on the other side of the island are large and they go on for almost the entire shoreline. Even if he made up his caves, I’m sure there are some. There has to be.” Bucky insists, determination invigorating his voice. “I’ll find us somewhere safe, kitten. I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me somewhere safe since we landed here. I’m starting to think you mean it.” You tease and hope it’s enough to draw a smile after the cloud you just summoned.

Lucky you, it works, and Bucky huffs a small laugh.

“I love you.” He tells you, voice low and soft.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you stupidly get lost in each other’s eyes, the sudden sound of a voice echoes in the heated air.

You can’t make out what it says, but it’s clear though distant.

Both your faces are overcome with confusion as you continue to stare at each other.

“What was that?” You wonder, and Bucky shakes his head.

The voice is louder this time, still unintelligible but still clear enough to be a voice.

Bucky suddenly bolts up, turning and running down along the beach from where he’d come.

“Bucky?” You hurry up, chasing after him.

He stops suddenly and squints towards the rocks that jut out into the water blocking the side of the island where you have the nets set up.

“What is it?” You gasp, tired from the run to keep up.

“Shh.” Bucky orders and you swallow hard, trying desperately to quiet your breathing.

“Can anyone hear me?” The voice says, deep and easy. “I am looking for a decrepit old man, probably grumpy. Most definitely surly and usually wearing a frown. Long hair. Needs a cut. Worse looking than me.”

From around the rocks comes a boat, a small vessel meant to travel from a larger ship to land. On it is a whole crew of marines. At the bow holding a steel gray megaphone to his lips is a handsome black man, sturdily built wearing a familiar red and gray suit.

“Bucky…” You gasp, your heart nearly seizing as your brain tries to process the fact that there is a boat full of soldiers right offshore.

“Sam?” Bucky whispers, too shocked to speak any louder.

As this Sam spots the two of you, he breaks into a smile and drops the megaphone to slap against his thigh. He’s ecstatic to see Bucky and when he lifts the megaphone back to his mouth, he laughs once.

“You are a pain in my ass, Barnes.” Sam says, smirking at him from the boat as it stops far enough out that it’ll be an easy swim to reach them. “Why am I always looking for you and why can’t you make it easier? I’m putting a chip in your ass as soon as we get back home.”

#bucky x reader #bucky x reader fanfiction #castaway au #bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #marvel au #marvel fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x you fanfiction #bucky x reader fanfic #bucky x reader fic #bucky barnes x reader fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fic #deserted island au #desert island au #a world of our own #awooo

[gamer-logic]

Hetalia Platonic Ships Week Day 2: Coronvirus Chaos

When the virus hit, all the countries were forced to cancel the meeting and quarantine at their respective houses, and use zoom. Here are my headcanons of how the 1p and 2ps would fair!

Americans: With quarantine active, Alfred and Allen had to stay home which also meant the states stay too. Because this is our lovable all-American family, they go full-on zombie apocalypse mode with California and New York trying to panic buy all the toilet paper. Needless to say, they're not on grocery duty anymore. After this initial panic, things start out fine despite Alfred's meltdown about not getting to go to McDonald's anymore and Allen's subsequent victory lap because he won't have to be near the junk anymore. As their giant house is built on an estate because where else is big enough to put fifty kids and various farm and exotic animals including a large enough pool for Ameriwhale, and workshop with various vehicles Allen immediately takes control of the kitchen from Alfred and is dead set on making him eat better. He also gets the kids in on it and soon enough Alfred is hogtied to his chair, courtesy of Texas, and trying out every vegan dish Allen wants. The kids are wild and it doesn't take long for cabin fever to start kicking in though, but both Alfred and Allen are able to mitigate this by planning daily hikes and other outdoor activities. Oregon doing yoga much to the chagrin of a sailor mouthed New Jersey, Texas and Arizona teach everyone the ways of the wide-open range and many survival skills. Lastly, everyone has many movie marathons beginning with, of course, Marvel. Tony also joins them after coming out of his video game hibernation. One question why no one's one's thought to ask Tony about making a cure for the pandemic with his alien tech. Though that may be a good thing as who knows how that alien stuff would affect a human.

Americans: With quarantine active, Alfred and Allen had to stay home which also meant the states stay too. Because this is our lovable all-American family, they go full-on zombie apocalypse mode with California and New York trying to panic buy all the toilet paper. Needless to say, they're not on grocery duty anymore. After this initial panic, things start out fine despite Alfred's meltdown about not getting to go to McDonald's anymore and Allen's subsequent victory lap because he won't have to be near the junk anymore. As their giant house is built on an estate because where else is big enough to put fifty kids and various farm and exotic animals including a large enough pool for Ameriwhale, and workshop with various vehicles Allen immediately takes control of the kitchen from Alfred and is dead set on making him eat better. He also gets the kids in on it and soon enough Alfred is hogtied to his chair, courtesy of Texas, and trying out every vegan dish Allen wants. The kids are wild a and it doesn't take long for cabin fever to start kicking in though, but both Alfred and Allen are able to mitigate this by planning daily hikes and other outdoor activities. Oregon doing yoga much to the chagrin of a sailor mouthed New Jersey, Texas and Arizona teach everyone the ways of the wide-open range and many survival skills. Lastly, everyone has many movie marathons beginning with, of course, Marvel. Tony also joins them after coming out of his video game hibernation. One question why no one's one's thought to ask Tony about making a cure for the pandemic with his alien tech. Though that may be a good thing as who knows how that alien stuff would affect a human. Alfred likes to mess with the filters on the screen to tick off Authur but gets serious when it matters. Also, Tony hacks into the meeting from time to time to hear updates so he can better understand how to cure the virus and also troll everyone. Allen is running damage control to keep the kids from killing themselves and they'll often switch.

The Canadians: Similar to the Americans with how they're quarantined at home with the 13 provinces. They actually start panic buying too. However, instead of toilet paper, they buy up everyone's pancake ingredients and a bottle of maple syrup insight into every normal human's befuddlement. Hey, feeding 13 kids is hard! Unlike the states, the 13 last even shorter t thanks to Quebec who sees a prime opportunity to rebel once more. As for groceries, Quebec gets them for his punishment. Kuma and Kumajirou provide great comfort to animals when it starts getting tense and anxious due to cabin fever. Not only that, but they bring home the literal bacon with James when he goes hunting. Watching Kuma go pounding through the woods with Kuma on his back is a sight to behold and has since gained over 5 billion views on Utube. Everyone helps out in remedying this by creating a ginormous fort for them all to sleep in. This eventually includes Quebec when his punishment ends. Kuma likes sitting in Canada's lap during zoom meetings while James often struggles with keeping the provinces in check. Cue him doing an exact impression of the video with the woman sliding in like she's on ice to get the kids out while her husband is on video.

The Frenchmen: Francis, the drama queen that he is, freaks out about not being able to go out anymore and being forced to wear such ugly masks. Luiz could care less as this is exactly what he's been doing and just carries on until he hast to calm Franics' shrieking at how he'd been forced to home and not go shopping anymore. Francis ends up collaborating with Flavio in his new mask line to remedy the 'threat to fashion everywhere.' He also keeps up with his and Author's rivalry by mail, fondly reminding him of the previous years dealing with ink and a quill. Both Francis and Author have their own chatroom dubbed 'Britain and France's fighting chatroom," or more affectionately, "The 100 years chat."

The German Brothers: They all buy up the beer and Ludwig starts implementing extra training because 'you can't let a pandemic let you get soft! Now run like you're running from a human-sized germ!' Their house soon becomes a minefield with the prank war Lutz and Prussia initiate. Klaus loves the extra peace and quiet he's been getting now. Blackie, Astor, and Berlitz are happy their humans are home much more often now and are getting very spoiled. Ludwig takes control of the computer while on zoom because he knows what the others would do with they got it. Lutz and Gilbert keep making fart sounds and shuffling noises in the background, leaving Klaus to just sigh and a tomato face Ludwig to stammer on with the meeting.

The Italians: Flavio takes one look at the masks and immediately gets inspired for a new, pandemic edition, line of masks, and mask-related cloths including the two in one mask dress. Luciano let all his men go home with their only orders to be safe and stay healthy as he's not willing to relive the Black Plague. Lovino will never admit this, but he's kind of glad for the pandemic since it's given him the chance to spend time with his brother. Though this doesn't;t stop Spain from calling to check in 3 times a day. Feliciano tries to do all kinds of new things to keep everyone's spirits up and is also the guy who stole all the store's pasta, tomatoes, and sauce. Flavio makes all four of them show up fashionably late to the zoom conference despite it being online.

The Russians: Viktor keeps up with his work as much as possible and both he and Ivan have to hide their grins when their president has to quarantine. They don't really like him much. Ivan tries looking at pictures of sunflowers to keep himself occupied. He fears the loneliness quarantine brings, but Viktor tries to be around more so he doesn't get so lonely as he's also felt that pain before. He doesn't want Ivan to be like him who doesn't have friends nor the time for them. Out of the two, Viktor is the most serious about his work and is often seen using zoom for meetings.

The Japanese: Both are enjoying the introvert's paradise but are also worrying over the rising cases in their countries especially since they had to host the Olympics. They did so flawlessly but also struggled in keeping things as stable as possible. They both hold guilt for putting their citizens in such a dangerous situation. Both end up doing a video game/anime marathon with the rest of the Otaku club over zoom. Kuro sets to work refining his swordsmanship skills and actually starts forging new ones. He's a great weaponsmith! Kiku also takes the time to practice his calligraphy. They're the one's who'd have anime playing in the background or their cat, Japaneko, getting in the way.

And last but not least, the ones who started it all, the Chinese: Yao continually works around the clock trying to analyze the bad and how the pandemic got out of hand. Xiao ends up being the one who actually started this because he dared the guy to at the soup. He feels a lot of guilt over this and, in a rare showing of maturity from him, is also working by Yao to fix his mistake that not only risked his and everyone else's people but also killed so many. The pandemic will likely be one of their greatest shames. On a lighter note, Yao can't figure out how zoom works and Xiao likes programming troll hacks into the computer to mess with him.

#Hetalia #coronavirus #2p hetalia #aph america #aph england #aph germany #aph china #aph japan #aph canada #apha france #aph russia #aph italy #aph romano #2p england #2p america #2p italy #2p germany #2p france #2p russia #2p china #2p romano #2p canada #2p japan #hetaliaplatonicshipsweek

[arhvste]

dad hcs with your top 3 HQ boys? 😚

my top 3 haikyuu boys? #exciting 😌

-

KUROO, IWAIZUMI AND ATSUMU AS DADS

-

KUROO

he’s always wanted 3-4 

growing up the only child in the household with his grandparents and father got a little lonely when he wasn’t with kenma

so you, y/n his wonderful and beautiful wife, fill his world with much more joy by bearing his children 

you have 3 so far and phew good luck

two boys and a girl 

kuroo has already started teaching your kids his trademark catchphrases 

to your despair your youngest son’s first words had been “oya oya”

your face dropped while kuroos hyena laugh roared through the house

“wHY WOULD YOU TEACH HIM THAT”

“because bokuto dared me??”

for the first few weeks all you can hear is little mutters and screeches of “oya oya” and it’s driving you ✨insane✨

kuroo is however good with kids 

and he will put a stop to it by giving your kid a pacifier to keep quiet

kuroo would love if his kids took an interest in volleyball 

but he won’t force it on them 

he’ll support whatever they want to do

your kid wants to try ballet? kuroo will buy several pairs of specially made shoes

art? kuroo is more than happy to hire a whole studio for the day

swimming? he’ll have a pool installed in your house

material arts? kuroo will find a ninja to train your kid

he wants to be the best dad he possibly can for his kids 

i’m not saying he plays favourites but he does have a soft spot for his little girl

he will absolutely try and encourage her that boys are the worst and she shouldn’t date them until they get his seal of approval

he has a ridiculously high standard for the type of boy your daughter can date

you could be a high achieving graduate, astronaut in training, saved 36 old ladies on the street and a candidate for president 

and kuroo would still be like

“is that it? 🙄”

good luck to your daughter then 

he is there for every event 

his whole schedule will be made around any birthdays, graduations, shows etc

he will make sure of it

he doesn’t care if he’s scheduled a meeting with the highest world leader

if that meeting falls on the same day as his kids sports game he will not be sat in an office chair but rather in the crowd cheering his kid on alongside you

he wants to give his kids the best in life but he also doesn’t want to completely spoil them 

he was raised pretty normally so you and him agreed you should try to at least do the same

however when uncle kenma or uncle yaku babysits his kids 👀

“dad uncle kenma bought me a new pc!”

“uncle yaku bought me a pony!”

that’s it

kuroo will spoil tf out of your kids from time to time just to one up his friends

overall he is such a doting dad

yourself and the kids mean the absolute world to him 

and he appreciates you to no end for bringing them into this world 

together the two raise such humorous, perceptive and successful children 

and he couldn’t be more proud of his family 

-

IWAIZUMI

years of practically babysitting oikawa have prepared him for this 

he has the patience levels built up

he is also extremely responsible and level headed 

the two of you have 1 son who is 4 years old

the toddler has iwaizumi wrapped around his little finger 

iwa denies this though

whenever your son misbehaves or makes a mistake (which is rare btw) iwa is looking down at him sternly

“s/n, you know better than this”

but all it takes it one pout and iwaizumi is all soft again and swoops your son into his arms 

lmao i just know he’ll teach your son to insult oikawa 

“say trash-y-ka-wa! that’s my boy!”

“iwa-chan stop teaching your baby to bully me i can’t even handle it from you alone 😩”

sometimes iwaizumi takes your son to work if you’re feeling particularly tired or have somewhere else to be

he definitely will wear on of those baby carrier harnesses 

that’s kinda hot tbh 

bokuto and hinata are all over your kid while iwaizumi is trying to train team japan

while he manages to get both players back over he notices his son is missing from the portable baby chair he brought with him 

“omi omiiiiii look! baby germs!”

atsumu is running around with your son securely in his arms while sakusa  is SPRINTING away from the blonde shouting profanities at him 

needless to say, iwaizumi tries not to bring his kid along whenever serious training needs to be done

he will bring him to more laid back sessions though

iwaizumi is THE responsible dad of the year

he cooks, he cleans and he knows how to handle your son

by now your son has started to develop into his personality more

being around his calm and level headed dad has really rubbed off on him

he doesn't get too overexcited and knows how to behave well

there is something that bothers iwaizumi about your son though

his first words

“iwa-chan~”

iwaizumi’s face dropped when the familiar phrase left his sons mouth

“shittykawa i will FLY over to argentina to personally beat you up”

“it’s not MY fault s/n likes hanging out with his uncle tooru 😗”

oikawa is a doting uncle too

whenever he can he visits your family and spends time getting to know your kid 

the nickname ‘trashykawa’ did happen to stick though

iwaizumi considered it fair now that your son called his best friend after the nickname he taught him 

another dad who would like if his son took up volleyball, but won't force it

your kid does actually pick it up though 

and he’s damn good at it 

not to be clichè but he will like the position of ace the best

this is to your husband and bokuto’s delight

iwaizumi will be there for every game and will absolutely let him come to work with him more often as he gets older so he can watch pros up close

maybe one day your kid will end up on the very team his father trains

and he’ll be there alongside you cheering him on

-

ATSUMU

atsumu is blessed with the gift of twin daughters

hey, twins are in his genes it was bound to happen somewhere down the line

his girls are the most precious beings to him

other than you obv

to him, you are his heart, soul and everything inbetween

he treats his girls like princesses 

like kuroo, boys are off the table 

“oi if ya think you’re bringin boys home you can think again!”

“baby, it’s only their first day of preschool please calm down 😀”

unless these boys can beat him at setting, they’re not allowed within a 48 mile radius of your daughters

he will defo want you to bring them to his games

put them in personalised jerseys and he will be showing them off to his team and the crowd

every point he scores he’s pointing at you and your girls

“THAT ONE WAS FOR YOU MY PRINCESSES!”

when his team wins he will absolutely bring the three of you out onto the court and pull you all in for a tight hug and shower you all with affection for the world to see

your kids take a liking to sakusa believe it or not

they find his presence interesting in comparison to the other msby players

lmao sakusa will show your girls his flexible wrist trick and they’ll giggle in excitement 

“uncle omi is so cool!”

hang on a minute

‘UNCLE’ omi???

atsumu is in shock 

“how come’s ya nice to em and not to me omi omi?”

“they take after y/n more than you. they're not annoying and gross like you that’s why”

as he’s apart of the dedicated dad society, atsumu will make sure he’s there for every event he can too

if his games fall on the same day as an event with your daughters you can bet ur ass he is there as soon as his game is over

celebratory drinks with the team? not on his watch when his daughter has a dance recital 

any moments he misses when he's playing an away match or can’t get out of training he asks you to record so he can watch it back multiple times later

probably cries when he watches your daughter win her sports match or perform in a dance show

his camera roll is FULL of pictures of you and your daughters

insists on posting them all so he can show the world what a beautiful and loving family he has 

uncle osamu makes sure he tells your daughters embarrassing stories about their dad

“and then your dad turned around and told the girls to stop squealin like pigs when they were only showin their support”

“wth dad that's so rude 😠”

“thEY MESSED UP MY SERVE SAMU SHUT UP”

your family is raised super close 

atsumu always knew he wanted both of your families involved with his daughters upbringing so he makes sure everyone is included and the two girls are familiar with their whole family 

it’s important to him that they’re familiar with his volleyball family too

he loves the fact they're so comfortable and familiar with his teammates 

uncle bokuto and uncle hinata are a hit with the twin girls

but its uncle omi who takes the crown for favourite

there is never a dull moment in the miya family��

and atsumu couldn’t ask for better people to be involved with his daughters upbringing 

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requests are open!!

#kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo x you #kuroo hcs #kuroo scenario #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hcs #iwaizumi scenarios #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu hcs #atsumu scenarios #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #haikyuu!!