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and-stir-the-stars · 1 year

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@dire-kumori (this is, uh. This is gonna be a long one 😬)

It's completely fine if you're not up to date on the fnaf books, especially considering I haven't read any of them myself, lmao. I only know the things that the silly fnaf youtubers tell me is important in their theory videos, so. I don't know very much, and what I do know is probably very biased through their theory-crafting lenses.

But I enjoy me a good Evan and Gregory story, so I'd love to rant a little but more about them. I like the idea that Evan is hiding away somewhere in the Night Terrors recreation of his room, too terrified to leave it. He hides away somewhere that only a little kid would think to go/be able to reach, which is exactly why Gregory (who isn't THAT afraid while playing the game, but is a little menace who likes breaking the game's boundaries and trying to see where he can and can't go rather than playing the game normally) is able to find him.

Maybe Evan is terrified of Gregory at first-- after all, the details are hazy, but he clearly remembers how much the Stranger hurt him for so long, and who says this stranger will be any better? But Evan is terrified and alone and he just wants comfort. He thinks about the weird pictures on the wall of the family with blurry faces, how happy and safe they all look, and after a while of Evan being scared and Gregory trying to calm him, Evan can't help but notice that Gregory looks a LOT like one of the small blurry figures he sees in the family photos (ig technically Gregory should be nothing more than a pair of transparent floating arms if they're in a VR game, but I'll do what I want with no regard to the cruel constraints of logic). And Evan wants the happiness and safety he sees in those photos, so wouldn't it make sense to go with Gregory? (though, Gregory insists the kid in those photos isn't him)

Evan is so broken at this point that he doesn't remember his personality or his name. He can't answer any of the questions Gregory asks him about what things he likes or what he does for fun (though, the difference in technology thanks to them being born so far apart may play into that, too). Gregory has to help give Evan a name (Evan shudders for reasons he can't remember when Gregory suggests the name Freddy).

The last thing I'll say about the Gregory ending (such an original name, ik) is I'd like to think the two of them get out of the game eventually. Despite Gregory’s kindness, Evan still thinks he's too broken and the world is too big and scary for him to continue existing... and then the sun rises. At this point, Evan has spent what accounts to years/billions of nights desperate to survive long enough to see the sunrise but always being brutally murdered before he can. And then! Then Evan feels the light and warmth ghosting against his skin for the first time in god knows how long, he sees the brilliant pinks and oranges and reds of the rising sun, and he falls onto his knees with tears in his eyes. "I made it," he whispers. "I finally, really made it."

The happiness is almost enough to make his soul move on right then and there. But... it also fills him with hope that maybe this world and the people in it are worth surviving for after all.

Okay, moving on!

Oh gosh,, the idea of "Michael" trying to take control of the game in order to turn it into a safe haven for Evan!! It's such a painfully sweet idea... except, I can't help but wonder if Michael would even know what a 'safe haven' for Evan would look like-- let alone if the Fragment would know, since the Fragment has lost everything that makes Michael, Michael and is just the remnant of an instinct to keep Evan safe. I feel like the "safe haven" that the Fragment would make for Evan would end up being empty and hollow, devoid of any real meaning or happiness. It's nothing but an empty paradise filled with false promises of what the Fragment thinks a little kid SHOULD want but is devoid of the love and affection that Evan NEEDS. I'm having trouble coming up with any examples, though. Maybe it's like the Other World in Coraline, but instead of a greedy, hungry monster being in control of an empty world of lies, it's a monster that WANTS to help Evan but doesn't understand how.

And the idea of Glitchtrap using Evan against the Fragment is positively delicious :3

I'm going to make William and Mike a bit more sentient than you originally intended for a sec, though. I like the idea of a manipulative, silver-tongued William turning Evan against his brother. Maybe William even takes advantage of the fact that Evan (and probably Mike) never found out or knew why he got trapped in the Nightmare in the first place; maybe William frames the whole thing as Michael coming up with another way to torture Ev for fun. I wonder how Evan would respond. Would he listen to his father (whether or not Evan even recognizes this person as his father) telling him Mikey deserves this, take out his frustration on Mikey and hope that he can rest once Mike is gone? Or does Evan break, because as much as Mikey has hurt him, he doesn't want his brother dead?

And wouldn't it be interesting to see how Mike/the Fragment responds to Evan attacking him/it? The Fragment wants nothing more than Evan to be happy, so it must glitch the hell out of it when Evan tries destroying the Fragment. It's just like what you wrote about Mike being torn when Ev begs Mike to stop trying to save him in the Nightmare; the Fragment's entire existence is to keep Evan safe and happy, and it needs to be present so it can do that, but if Evan wants it gone... how is it meant to fulfill both objectives at once?

Though, I'm also curious about how this au could tie back into Security Breach. Maybe the Fragment does end up winning control of the game from Glitchtrap, so Glitchtrap runs to the only place he can: Vanessa. And maybe he drags Evan with him, or perhaps Evan goes *willingly* if it means escaping from the Fragment/Stranger that tortured him for so long. Security Breach still happens, but this time, Glitchtrap has Vanessa AND Evan under his control. Maybe he even uses Evan’s ghost to try tricking and manipulating Gregory as well. And all the while, Michael has to try to figure out how to get out of the VR game and back to protecting the ghost spirit whose name he no longer recalls.

AND THE FRAGMENT BEING A YOUNGER MIKE IS SO COOL! Maybe it could be the reverse of what I described with Evan and Gregory, where Evan sees another lost and scared kid his age hiding away, just like him, and decides "i am not leaving you to face your horrors alone." Neither Evan nor Mike have any memory of who either of them are, but they're both lost and alone and terrified and cling to each other. They're the only thing that either of them has, and vow to get through this together, sort of the antithesis to how isolated they were in the Nightmare. Very depressing that it takes both of them completely losing all of their memories and will to live for them to trust and rely on each other without constantly hurting each other, but...

Maybe the two of them spend eternity forever without their memories. Or maybe like you said, they slowly find each other's memories in the game's coding, and they have to reconcile the horrible truths they learn about themselves and their pasts with the fact that they're *friends* now and don't want to lose each other

#I am. So sorry for throwing like 7 different ideas for the ending #(Or for the next phase of the story rather?) at you at once #There's just so many ways to take this one!#And i had to take Gregory out of the equation with your ''finding evan and Michael’s memories'' thing #Because if gregory was there and he saw the things mike did to evan #There is NO WAY that feral gremlin child would let mike ANYWHERE near evan lmao #His sense of justice (and common sense) is too strong #Okay time for funnies :3 #William: *wakes from the ucn hell*#William not even three seconds later: *is forced to be killed by animatronics over and over by the Fragment*#Also imagine the game developers when the fragment takes over the programming and changes it into Evan's ''safe haven''#They're like who the HECK recoded this game???#This is gonna take us months to fix!!#... maybe they just delete all the coding and start from scratch tbh #Also i am sooo proud of myself for the evan watching the sunrise thing #I have like. A Thing about Evan's soul basking in the sunlight like a cat #after being locked away (in fredbear/this Nightmare/the backroom at Freddy's/whatever) for years #Just ask honey-bunnysaurus. They've heard me talk about this before at multiple points lmao #Ugh I'm gonna reach tag limit soon :/#lonely children au #<- and I'll answer your ask about that tag later you absolute menace!#I should have seen that coming but it took me completely by surprise 🥺

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dutybcrne · 3 months

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Kaeya’s body temperature is constantly running cold, more than even the average Cryo user’s body. It’s partially because of his own anxiety constantly thrumming through him and making his Vision act up some, but also because he’s come to really dislike warmer temperatures and will do whatever to ensure he doesn’t feel them.

#hc; kaeya #//Only ever shifts his temperature back to a more regular one when 1) Klee tries to warm him up #//Bc she hugged him or held his hand and got reminded of how cold he constantly was #//And begged him to let her use her Vision so he wouldn’t become a Kaeya-popsicle #//He IMMEDIATELY chills his temperature the moment she’s taken off his hands; no matter how uncomfortable it is to make the sudden shift #//Or 2) Addie happened to notice and started chiding at him to warm up; esp if she heaps up blankets onto him. Esp considering how he’d bee #//after Diluc left; freezing damn near everything. Kae knows he can never say no to her; feels bad making her fret abt him so much #//But also bc he’s mildly terrified she’ll get Diluc involved if he refuses/doesnt warm up on her terms #//And the LAST thing he wants is Diluc using his Vision anywhere NEAR him outside a battle where he can be distracted from it #//Its just a visceral reaction he has; would just end up making himself colder in the process of counteracting it #//And possibly give Diluc Hella frostbite too. Which he RLLY doesn’t need to add to the grievances Luc has in him #//There is also 3) his significant other complains he’s too cold #//He hates having to hear it bc he’s either torn between forgoing physical contact w them for a bit #//Or having to warm up so they can be cozier; he really doesn’t like Either option #//Tends to do the latter w/out being told after the first time; won’t actively complain; but he does feel uneasy making the shift for them #//They just better make sure to hug him extra tight in that case; to help take his mind off it all #//He’ll be okay with a nice middle ground of either easing up the coldness to a Certain degree and/or blanket buffers btw him & his s/o tho

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aesterea · 2 years

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I've been meaning to ask for a while, how did you come up with your tagging system? You seem to have a lot of fitting quotes for a lot of categories and I'm just curious how you came up with that

i've always tagged extensively (and maybe a little obsessively), but using quotes as categories was not really an original idea. i saw other people doing it first, and it seemed like a fun and very pretty way to tag for themes.

it had also pained me for years that a lot of beautiful, poignant ideas would get lost in my "words" or "favorite words" tag (there are literally hundreds of pages of "words" on my old blog, and already over a hundred on this one). i wanted to be able to find the things that really struck me and stuck with me, and i wanted to be able to group ideas together so i could return to them, read through them, and chew on them sometimes. so i started tagging for "love and death" and "love like religion" and "monstrous women," but even those weren't precise enough. so i started using quotes that got at specific things. lines of poetry, pieces of prose, song lyrics that struck any chord that just kept singing inside me (a couple of them are actually my own writing).

also, i have this tendency of reading things and going, "oh, this is reminds me of this other thing!!" so i enjoy drawing those connections and quietly sharing them for anyone who enjoys reading them.

an added bonus is i can use a quote to refer to Something Important To Me that i don't want to mention publicly. also!! i can use them for my friends, and every time i tag something that reminds me of someone, i get to tell them i love them!! (see: "a heart that beats. a voice that speaks the truth" and "i know i have found a friend forevermore" and "love you to the moon and to saturn")

i've lost track of all the ones i use at this point (i have several dozen listed on a doc, but not everything is on there), but i'll list a few of my favorites in the tags of this post! unfortunately, there won't be a whole lot here, since i remade my blog just a little over a year ago. there are a ton on the old account. maybe i'll do something similar for the old one, if anyone is interested in that. it'd be pretty convenient for me, anyway.

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senadimell · 2 years

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#look i know i posted the patrick stewart video (which was delightful but also wholly voluntary)#but if i never hear another thing about celebrities' private lives i would be A-OKAY #i do not want or need an opinion on a certain celebrity couple #i do not want to take a side or treat it like it's a movie #IT"S NOT A MOVIE #TRIALS ARE NOT MOVIES AND WE LITERALLY WILL NOT HEAR ANYWHERE NEAR THE EVIDENCE THAT THE JUDGE/JURY IS PRESENTED WITH #and my opinion DOES NOT CHANGE WHAT HAPPENS in the trial. they're not part of my community. i will literally never meet them #i want it to stop being headline news because they've been public and earned a lot of money #i haven't done a whole lot of research but i think generally we would be a whole lot better off #if trials were much more private #something something parasocial relationships should stay parasocial #because in this case. we the public cannot actually reduce any ACTUAL HARM by following the trial like a drama #it's not like your sibling abusing their child or the neighbor mistreating their spouse #those are cases that you can actually improve for the better.#or you know what? donate to a related cause or volunteer at a shelter #but following the trial literally. literally. will make you angry and lead to zero activism #maybe i've missed something here. maybe i'm wrong. if so i'm willing to learn about benefits of acting contrary to the way i've described #(do not send me anything about the trial whatsoever. i'm talking about...maybe studies that say outcomes are better when trials are #covered by media. or saying that people are more involved in activism when they follow trials or something)#then i can decide if i want to know why it's been a BBC headline for US and Canada for weeks on end

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screampied · 2 months

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gojo had a dream you died.

it was partially the reason why he woke up in a cold sweat… it was horrid.

he could still hear your screams, the life leaving your eyes, but more importantly, he remembered your final words that were murmured to him. “satoru, don’t… cry, i’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.” and he believed you, that everything would be okay. despite tears filling his eyes, labeled the strongest at that moment, he couldn’t have ever felt so weak.

the dream felt so real, that was the scary part. he remembered each and every detail. from the feeling of you giving his wrist a light squeeze, the sweet smell of your natural scent.. the eerie sounds of your irregular wheezes as you were clinging on your final moments.

“don’t leave me,” he mutters, he remembers saying that. three simple words, yet his dilated pupils spoke a thousand. he started to repeat it. again and again as if it was a mantra. his words, his tone broke the more he spoke to you. that cute smile of yours never left his lips, it remained there. regardless of your inevitable incoming fate, he sobs, “you’re…you’re all i have left. i don’t wanna be left alone again, just stay. please, baby.”

“i’m not going anywhere, ‘toru,” you’d reassure him, a single tear drop of his falls onto your cheek.

after that moment, gojo wakes up. trembling, yet the dream wasn’t that feared him the most. it was him waking up with you not next to him..

cold, everything felt cold.

he shot up immediately from his dream. the cold sweat that forever continued to race down his back as he panted.

he was so used to your warmth taking up part of the bed. albeit, in this case though. it felt empty. isolated.

it was near the middle of the night, gojo was drowsy, rubbing his eyes to blind his vision with imaginary stars. feeling for the bed, it was frigid.

“baby?” he’d grumble, white lashes partially open. silence called back to him, and if it was anything about gojo, he hated being alone.

oh, he loathed it, yet whenever you came into his life. he didn’t have to worry about that. you were always besides him, no matter what.

until now.

it takes him a split second before it dawns on him. your fatal death, it wasn’t another one of his silly surreal dreams. it was nothing but mere reality.

a breath gets caught in his throat once he realizes, being brought back into harsh realness. you were gone.

it’s been years, speaking of which…

it was your anniversary with him. the same exact day he proposed to you. he remembers it vividly, getting down on one knee with the goofiest grin. he didn’t even say, “will you marry me..?” instead, he snorts a sheepish, “let’s get married, heh.”

“i always forget around this time,” gojo sighs to himself with a soft tone, his voice was a bit raspy from abruptly waking up. intaking a sharp inhale, he goes towards your side of the bed and he reaches into his pocket.

“it should have been me,” and he doesn’t even care he’s talking to himself, it’s like for whatever reason, your presence was near him. “our marriage,”

and then with a brief sniffle, he glances down at the ring you once wore proudly. he strokes it with a thumb before huffing out a shaky, “our marriage, it was supposed to last us for infinity…”

but it didn’t.

with hot tears streaming down his face and a power he wished he never have because in the end, it didn’t save you. he couldn’t save you.

and now…

the strongest, the most brave to ever live and walk could easily be mistaken as the weakest.

#★vegasbaby.#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo angst #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fic #jjk drabbles

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ratgrinders · 13 days

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okay but shout out to adaine for this battle, the ABSOLUTE MVP

dust mephits all across the field that when they died ended up blinding like half of the enemies they fought

two AMAZING portent rolls, the first helping gorgug avoid like 44 points of fire damage and keep concentration, the second an absolutely LEGENDARY crit for fig that pretty much SINGLEHANDEDLY decimated the wyvern before it could get anywhere near the proctor

an absolutely clutch Scatter getting the proctor out of harms way, fabian out of being restrained, and kristin up on the ledge which let her be able to see kipperlily and oisin in the first place!!!!!!!!!!!!

and she helped fig with that limerick : ) sisters of all time

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #original post #adaine abernant

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luveline · 6 months

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hiiii jade!!!! could i please request something with peter with reader who’s maybe put on some weight recently and is insecure about it?? (totally not self indulgent at all) i totally get it if you’re not comfortable writing that stuff though so no pressure

hi lovely! ty for requesting. fem, 1k

cw for negative weight talk/ weight gain

Everybody gains weight during the holidays, you think, tracing your figure in the mirror. Though it's not strictly holiday season yet, it's edging toward the end of the year. Maybe my new year's resolution should be losing a few pounds.

There's a thunk of the bedroom window being yanked open and footsteps across the floor. You tense until your hear Peter panting for breath, likely having swung to you at high speed, or fresh from a fight with an usurped criminal.

You rush back into your t-shirt, knowing exactly what path he'll walk. He barrels into the bathroom, sees you at the mirror and smiles so wide his cheeks look fit to burst. "Hey," he says, peeling the suit off and exposing his boxers to you without shame, "hey hey hey. Can I persuade you in with me?" He nods toward the shower.

"Not this time, Pete."

"Too bad," he laments.

You look away as he strips out of his underwear. The shower turns on and he takes you by the hips to move you out of his way with a murmured apology, near lost to the drum of the spray. Peter has moments where he doesn't know his own strength, but the majority of the time he treats you like you're something precious.

"Stay in here!" he demands as he pulls the curtain shut.

"I'm not going anywhere." You close the toilet and sit on the lid. "Tough day protecting the people?"

"Apart from tripping into a deceptively large pothole, it was fine. Why won't you come in here with me? I wanna rub your shoulders."

"You want me to wash your hair."

"Exactly. So get naked and get in here. Don't make me beg."

You really don't want to, and you're not going to, but it's not a big problem. Peter doesn't truly mind, he just loves you. "What do you mean, deceptively big? Like, knee height? Higher?"

"Mid thigh, I'd say. The people of New York are never gonna let me live it down. One guy was recording me and said he was gonna put it on YouTube for the ad money."

"Anything else?"

He gives you the rundown, describing what perps he faced and an older man he helped use an ATM machine. You hum distractedly, pinching at the fat where it spreads on your thigh, sitting down as you are.

He sticks his face through the curtain gap, hair slicked to his cheeks. "What're you doing?"

"You told me to stay, so I'm staying."

He's nervous for a split second, glancing back into the shower as though there's an answer there waiting for him before angling himself toward you fully, his naked chest dripping and shining in the bathroom light. "Okay, fine, we need to talk about something. But I want you to know that you forced my hand here. Okay?"

"Okay." You nibble the inside of your lip, used to his theatrics. "What have I done?"

"It's not something you've done. It's something you are. I can't even say it. I," —he pulls the curtain in front of his face, moves it aside again– "just need to tell you. Lately it's like you don't even realise how beautiful you are and I'm tired of it. You're radiant. Like, glowing."

Your recent internal debate must show on your face, that doubt, because he gives you a steadying smile. "Really, really beautiful," he says more seriously.

It's easy to smile at him. "Thank you, Pete." You scoop his suit off of the floor. "I'll go scrub the tetanus out of this in the kitchen sink."

"Wait–"

He can't just get out with suds in his hair, giving you the perfect escape plan. You have ten minutes to yourself filling the sink with soapy water and steeping the fabric before he's out of the bedroom in pyjamas, trousers tucked into his socks and hair damp from ferocious towel scrubbing. "You're such a– such a– thing," he decides. "I'm telling you you're beautiful and you walk off so you don't have to hear it? What's wrong with you?" His voice slips into a kinder register. "You do know you're pretty, right? I'm not just saying it to say it."

"I'm just feeling icky," you confide.

"About what?"

You want to tell him, you find. "You know how I've gained weight?"

He doesn't need any more explanation. Peter knows you've gained weight, you've mentioned it to him, and it's visual, and he can likely tell whenever he decides to flex his strength. "What, and you think that makes you less pretty?" He puts a damp hand behind your neck to bring you forward. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, a little."

He kisses you. His nose bumps your nose, his lips crushed to your as he holds you in place. Despite this, it isn't an overly rough connection. It's definitely not shy. "You're beautiful," he says in the space between your lips.

"It doesn't suit me–"

"It does. It really fucking suits you. Have you seen yourself? You couldn't look better."

"Even when I was thinner?"

"You look just as perfect then as you did now." His intensity fades and he encourages you back enough to see your face, his thumb rubbing a short line into your neck. His brows are furrowed, dark eyes darker for it. "Weight isn't a factor."

"No, but you have to say that."

"I don't. Not really. I'm sure there are a thousand shitty guys who'd tell you something different, but I'm not– I love you, the whole you. I like you like this." He grins. "Which should be obvious."

You tsk at him, to his delight, his laughter boyish as he buries his face in your neck with a hug, kissing a messy circle up and into the soft line of your jaw. You trap him there without thinking, chin hooked down, squirming as he blows hot air into your skin.

"I've been putting it on too," he says. "It's happy weight."

"It's not happy weight for you, Pete, it's just more muscle."

"It makes you happy, doesn't it?" he jokes, smiling and kissing and hugging you all at once. "Just like it does on you for me."

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oatmilkandvellichor · 1 year

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sometimes i’ll have a conversation with someone and you can feel how large the class divide is between us. and in those moments it will always be on me to dull down my experiences and to hide certain mannerisms and reactions in order to preserve the comfort of someone who physically cannot empathize or sympathize with my experience in the slightest.

#it’s not the same as having conversations with folks who haven’t been anywhere near my shoes before #but don’t feel like they’re suddenly chatting with a pathetic half human charity case the second they’re reminded #some folks it’s the standard ‘that’s not an experience i’ve lived by i can sympathize human to human’#but others you can watch yourself morph in their eyes into the dramatically dirty person on the soup kitchen billboards in december #you can see it. you can see them imagining you like that.#and you can watch them mentally tuck their head down - look the other way - and cross the street before you ask if they have any change #it’s fucking tangible. and it makes me bloodthirsty.#like i get it. you grew up stable in the burbs and the worst thing that’s ever happened to you was a bad breakup and having to tell your mom #that you failed chem 105.#i get it. the idea that someone ‘like me’ could end up anywhere near your social circles makes you feel wrong.#i get it. okay. i’m sorry for accidentally bursting your very fragile bubble Sarah Jane. go cry to your sorority sisters about it i guess.

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hazelfoureyes · 2 months

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The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part two)

This is part two! Here is part one. I lied, there is a bit of smut! Oopsie daisy. Inspired by @moonmark98 ‘s story idea of reader trying to forget Alastor and failing. I hadn’t planned a second part initially so I hope you like it 🥺

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

You return to earth and spend a year trying to crawl out from under the memory of Alastor. When an employee tells you a terrible past trauma, you end up right back where you started.

minors DNI

“Ooh my, this is highly unusual. Charlie is right, you really shouldn’t be here.” Stolas fretted over you. “Uuunfortunately I don’t have my book at this particular moment however I can just snag it from Blitzy and be back soon.”

“What’s a blitzy?” Angel looked around the room to no one in particular.

“What isn’t he?” Stolas cooed.

“Wait a minute!” Husk snapped his fingers, “Is that the imp who burned down loo loo land?”

“The very one!”

“He also takes hits out on people on earth, doesn’t he?” Husk gave Stolas a sideways look. Alastor hummed in acknowledgment.

“Ah haha yes” Nervously chuckling, Stolas scratched at the feathers behind his neck, “Anywho! I’ll return shortly and get you back where you belong, little one.” He flashed his kind smile to you before bowing to Charlie and portaling out of the room.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Charlie sat beside you on the edge of the bed. You’d been escorted immediately to an empty room upon arrival, sat down while the core staff of the hotel flitted about wildly upon hearing Angel’s recounting of events.

“You smell dirty”, the tiny maid cackled and ran to you before being lifted by her apron by Husk.

“That is a”, you rubbed your wrists nervously, “complicated question…”

“There’s nowhere safer in all of hell than this room. With Vaggie and me and Alastor”, Charlie brought her hands to her mouth, “or— not Alas- I mean” She looked at Vaggie, “What do I mean??”

“Nothing and no one will lay a finger on you here.” Vaggie was staring at Alastor when she said it.

“I don’t think its fingers anyone’s worried about”, Angel shifted his gaze from Alastor to you and back.

Alastor turned his head slowly to meet Angel’s eyes, “Did you say something, Angel Dust?”

He shook his head and quickly left, Niffty and Husk in tow.

“I think you should leave, too.” Vaggie crossed her arms.

Alastor replied by taking a step closer to you, gesturing with his microphone, “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. She is safe and sound, barely a bruise on her.” He looked over you, the side of your face still slightly pink from the way you hit the ground hardly an hour ago. He could hear your body sliding across the wooden cabin floor still, what a strangely exciting noise. What else could he drag you across? What surfaces could he slide your over? What noises would they make? What noises would you make?

“You took her fucking soul, Alastor. In a coerced deal!”

“If I remember correctly, that is exactly what I had been asked to do.” He grinned, taking his monocle off and cleaning it on his sleeve. Vaggie looked to Charlie, who shrunk from her horrified face. “Plus, she’s still alive. Who knows if the deal even counts. I’ve never made one with a living person.” With an exaggerated shrug, Alastor took a seat on the sofa opposite the bed, legs crossed. “Either way, she isn’t anywhere near Val anymore.” His eyes met yours, for the first time since…

You looked away. He wanted to grab your chin and force you to see him. He wanted to read what was written on your face. Shame? No…yes, but something more. Embarrassment. Confusion. Ah— You clenched your jaw, finally returning his stare. Anger. “Did I not do exactly what I had promised I would? What I had warned you I would?” Your lips curled over your teeth. “While yes, I hadn’t explicitly stated the number of times-“

“Stop talking! No, no. Enough of that.” Charlie waved her arms as if she could dissipate the very topic away, “Alastor could you please give me a moment alone with her?” She looked at him with big, worried eyes, “Please?”

Through gritted teeth Alastor acquiesced, “It is your hotel, Princess. I’ll be just outside the door.” The last sentence was for you, you could feel it like you could feel his shadow still ghosting over your legs.

As soon as the door shut, she closed the distance between you, looking to Vaggie who offered her a supportive nod.

“Seriously, are you hurt? Did he— Did he hurt you?”

Oh, you wish he had. That’d be easier to say. Easier to process. You wish he’d knocked you around like Val had done earlier. That left you indignant, enraged. But this — whatever this was — you couldn’t find purchase on a reaction. You didn’t even want to think the things bubbling under your consciousness.

“Just my pride. Uhh,” you shifted, your thighs and cunt sore to the touch, “He really did warn me. Got my okay, kind of. And he didn’t hurt me, except dragging me around and flipping me but-”, You noticed Charlie’s alarmed expression, “I’m physically fine.”

She nodded, her expression still oozing concern, “Well that’s good, then.”

“What… You both seem humanish, but what exactly are-“ You tipped your head in the direction of the door.

“Well I think Angel is some kind of spider…Husk, not entirely sure honestly”, Charlie looked up as if searching for a memory, “Alastor is a deer. It’s all tied to how people lived and died, I think.”

A deer? You shook your head, “Nothing about that man resembles a prey animal.”

“His death sure did.” Vaggie commented.

“So if I have some weird death I’ll end up here? If I drown… I’ll come back as a fish?” You were mostly thinking out loud, and hadn’t expected Charlie to nod in agreement.

“But don’t think about that! You might still go to heaven. Like Al said, he isn’t even sure the deal is binding.” She beamed and clapped her hands together.

It felt binding.

When that green light had erupted from beneath you, you thought you could feel him. Not the tentacles, or the memory of his hand. It felt like he was in the light itself, casting shadows on the ceiling in the shape of you. It felt alive, every ray of light a breathe washing over you.

You looked down at the robe, white and silky. Where were your clothes? Where was your fucking aunt? What about your phone? You had a car, too. Wait, no… did you drive to her house? Or did she…You hadn’t slept since being dragged to hell. Staring at the hem of the sleeve, you tried to focus your mind but suddenly you were wading in cognitive mud.

Shadows gathered near the foot of the bed before you saw Alastor rise out of the cluster. Charlie said something, Vaggie said something but sharper. It sounded far away already. Your body was beginning to feel heavy, an ache settling across your back and thighs.

“Perhaps you should lie down, my dear.” His voice cut through the murky waters of your thoughts. The bed sunk beside you as he pressed a hand down, the other lifting your chin to force eye contact. Vaggie made a loud noise, Charlie a smaller one, a longer one. Was it words? Were they speaking? Your lids were heavy over your eyes, Alastor’s face beginning to blur. His smile looked strained, eyebrows knitted together in an emotion almost recognized. Concern? His grin threw it off. You raised your eyebrows to try and open your eyes wider but the effect was minimal.

You heard yourself groan as an arm hooked under your knees, another catching your shoulders as you fell to the side. It felt like you were floating. Your legs came down slowly, you could feel the robe adjusting around your waist. Your head went back before comfortably straightening. A warmth spread down your neck, leaving goosebumps to runaway down your shoulder. It was dark now, and in the haze you heard from somewhere so close it felt like maybe you had thought it yourself, “In perpetuity, mon cher.”

You didn’t recognize the room at first, but when you finally managed to lift yourself out of bed you sighed. Home. You only knew it had been real because of the robe and busted lip. Well, mostly sure.

No one noticed you were gone, which wasn’t shocking. Working backwards, you could piece together you had gone to visit your aunt on Saturday morning. You awoke early Monday in your own bed some 60 miles from your aunt's home. Your car had been found abandoned off an old dirt road way outside of town.

You tried to get back to life, get to work. But you were clearly only half there.

Your aunt was found dead the following weekend, half submerged in a swamp just outside of Tampa. Her funeral was funny. Not “haha” funny, “Say hi to Val for me” kinda funny. When they lowered her into the ground you wondered what she looked like. What's the animal manifestation of a selfish, raging bitch? What’s the most untrustworthy home appliance?

Probably a gerbil, or a toaster.

You found yourself doing that a lot, What will they look like in the afterlife?

It took a good six months for you to stop sleeping in the robe. You couldn’t trash it, it was evidence you had been spirited away. It smelled like smoke and baby oil. Like Angel. It was soft on your skin, like—

Oh. It took less time for the dreams to calm down. Maybe a month of waking up in a cold sweat.

At first they were stressful. Val backhanding you. The feeling of leather chafing against your wrists. The cabin. The real one, not the set.

But then one night they weren’t stressful. You could remember the dream like it had really happened. A large hand cupping your cheek, another roaming past your hips before hooking under your knee. The warmth of a breath on your neck, on your navel. More hands. Everywhere. Your back, your ankle, your neck.

You woke up and the first feeling you felt was disappointment. It hit you like a truck.

The dreams slowly ramped up until some nights you awoke mid-orgasm. Never in your life had you experienced wet dreams; you didn’t even know women got them.

And it wasn’t always him—- well, not at first. You’d be kissing someone, a stranger or your ex or whoever. You’d have your hands in their hair, enjoying the feeling of their tongue sliding over yours. You’d be positively humming into their mouth. They’d pull you forward, lie you down, tugging your pants down your legs.

When they’d kiss up your arm and nestle into your neck they’d whisper hottily into your ear, “My doe.”

Sometimes you woke up, but many times you didn’t. Many times you grabbed his face and kissed him, letting him take control and direct you. You’d shrink beneath him, allowing him to use your body as he pleased. You’d surrender, you’d melt. He’d fuck you into the ground of god-knows-where, nails cutting into the flesh of your ass as he pulled you up to meet each punishing thrust. There were trees and starlight and you felt the humidity on your skin.

You’d always squirm away, try to escape the pleasure and he would find joy in pulling you back onto his cock. It felt like a game where you both already knew the outcome. “Going to cum, sweetheart?”, would be the last thing you heard before the real life spasms of your release stirred you awake.

The first man you took home after returning to earth was sweet. Gentle. Too gentle. You’d try to direct him, to let him know you wouldn’t break but he’d shy away from asserting dominance.

Other partners were more in charge, but it didn’t sit right. If you were going to allow someone control over you, you felt like they had to deserve it. You needed to respect them in some capacity.

You tried choking during sex, while it did heighten the pleasure their hand felt so small it broke your concentration. Bondage was fun, you got a rush from shibari, but all it did was inform your dreams.

You tried femdom, and while it was impowering it didn’t scratch that itch. You tried being a sub, but like before you found the people over you as unworthy of you. You didn’t think so highly of yourself, it’s just that autonomy was precious and these people were, well, just people. Mortals.

Your friends enjoyed your hoe era, self titled, but it was short lived. It had been eight months since you returned when you bought your first real sex toy, and took up hiking. It felt nice to be outdoors, and the days you spent in the forests seemed to make for nights of less intense dreams.

Your toy was, ashamedly, selected for its three points of contact. A pink little vibrator, big enough to need some work into you but not painful. The first time you used it you clung to your pillow, heart ballooning against your spiked blood pressure, and screamed a chorus of his name. The two points inside you vibrating in tandem with the small suction cup shape extending from the base doming your clit brought back delicious memories.

Every time, you felt embarrassed after. You could imagine him hearing you all the way in hell and chuckling at how pathetic you were. Satisfied at how empty you felt after.

It wasn’t just about the sex, you were never a very sexually needy person. You were chasing that feeling of surrender, of being both safe and out of control at the same time. The little bit of danger with the pleasure. But not, “local woman found dead in the woods” kind of danger. “Corrupt your soul and ruin your afterlife” kind of danger.

After a year of being earthside, life had finally calmed. Were you still fucked in your dreams? Yes, but a manageable once or so a month. Your toy was nice, but not necessary. A man, or anyone, hadn’t touched you in months. And that was alright. You felt almost normal, except the mornings you woke up hoping to see a pair of red eyes somewhere in the room.

You chalked it up to escapism.

Work had promoted you, twice, which helped distract you from boredom. While performing one of your monthly employee meetings, you met with a young man you’d recently hired. He was still in college, but he had a good head on his shoulders and made quick decisions. You were confident he’d be your equal within the year.

(Implied childhood trauma below the line; not graphic but it’s implied to have happened)

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

“Tired?” He asked you while you logged back into your computer.

You nodded, yawning into the back of your hand, “Spent most of Sunday at Shallow Ridge. Scoping out a good camping spot for when it warms up.”

“No shit, my dad hunts out there. Every Sunday, too.”

“I didn’t take you for the hunting type”, You blinked away the exhaustion and opened his employee file.

“Nah I’m not.” He shook his head, “He used to take me all the time when I was little.”

You nodded, not looking at him and only half listening, “Aww, sounds fun.”

He scoffed. You found the audio file of his graded phone calls, double clicking it. The file seemed corrupted.

“Not fun?” You absentmindedly asked.

You opened the program to manually find the call file. The silence began to creep over you until you felt your chest heavy under the weight of it.

You finally looked at him. The look in his eyes was distant, the color from his face was gone.

“Hey”, your tone changed, your subconscious recognizing something before you did.

He snapped back up, looking at you now. His smile didn’t meet his eyes. You didn’t say anything, just pushed your chair from your desk and looked directly at him.

“What?” He averted his gaze.

“You know you can tell me anything, right? You’re not just a resource here. Hell, I see you more than my own flesh and blood.”

He nodded, and when he finally brought his eyes back to yours his composure cracked and tears fell down his cheeks in streams. “It’s fine” he forced a laugh, “It was like a million years ago.”

You took off the rest of the day, and after providing hugs and your own tears and information on company sponsored counseling and resources, you went home.

Well, first you went to the camping store. And then home. Your dreams that week were calm, as if they knew you couldn’t enjoy a romp in a field.

When Saturday night bled into Sunday morning, you drove your car to Shallow Ridge. You placed the keys on the front seat and left your phone under the seat itself.

You waited for four hours, but eventually a truck pulled up and the man you saw in various Facebook photos and tagged family Christmas cards made his way into the dense forest. You circled back on the trail, head dizzy.

You knew you couldn’t overpower him, but you weren’t trying to win. You just wanted to make him hurt. You’d met men like him before. You’d suffered men like him. Survived men like him. When you two crossed paths on the barely marked trail and you were a beat behind him, you stopped, took out the hunting knife you were told could cut bone, and brought it down into the crook of his neck with both hands.

He whipped around, shock and panic on his face as his hands came back from his shoulder bloody. When he scrambled for his gun you sliced at his chest, then again at his throat but it wasn’t deep enough to stop him.

As he advanced on you, fumbling with his shotgun, you tumbled backwards. He fell with you, pinning you down beneath the full weight of his body on your stomach. Twisting beneath him you almost got onto your side when you sunk the knife into his inner thigh, remembering the artery there from your mother’s surgery. He got the gun loaded, aimed it at your chest, “Crazy bitch!”

“Fuck you.”

He fired.

Your breath left steam as it flitted weakly from your body, frost still on the ground. Your mouth was open as blood held your face to the forest floor. As your vision darkened, you watched the man slump over and onto the ground beside you. His eyes were open and unmoving.

A burst of green erupted from beneath you, and you smiled as you sank down into the light.

“Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?”

(Part three)

༻Masterlist༺

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marvelfilth · 2 months

Text

Her idiot

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x f!reader

Warnings: none

Summary: your night out with Thor and Valkyrie leaves Natasha worried unimpressed.

Masterlist

“Nat-”

“No.”

“But-”

“But no.”

“Just let me-”

“Shut up.”

Your mouth promptly snaps shut, the sound of teeth clattering echoing through the empty Compound.

You're being dragged to Natasha’s room, or you hope you are - you wouldn't put it past Natasha to lock you in one of the holding cells in the basement. You kinda deserve it. You can admit that even in your current inebriated state.

She drags you upstairs once you reach the end of the hallway, your shoes squeaking on the concrete, making you grimace with each step you make.

You're also starting to get cold.

You're not stupid enough to tell her that.

Wanda's head pokes out of her room, her eyes bleary with sleep and her expression pure confusion. Her eyes grow twice their size once she sees the state you're in. And then she laughs, shaking her head.

“You're so dead,” she whispers when you pass by and ducks back into her room lest Natasha unleashes her wrath on her.

You gulp.

Yeah.

You probably are.

Natasha halts her stride, opens the door to her room, and pushes you inside.

“You better not get any of that on my carpet,” she growls, tugging off your drenched shirt.

You're thankful you've had enough of a mind to leave your heavy winter coat by the lake before you decide to-

“Off.” Natasha gestures at your feet, putting a stop to your musings. You shrug off your dirty boots, carefully leaving them by the door. As carefully as you can, that is. The room is spinning a bit, and Natasha's face is a little blurry around the edges.

Then, she tugs down your jeans, making you wince as the harsh wet fabric slides down your legs. She looks at you, unimpressed.

“Sorry,” you whisper, hugging yourself.

You're starting to shake, a little bit. And your teeth won't stay put. Or is it your jaw?

Natasha sighs and leads you to the bathroom. It's already full of steam and the bath is full of bubbles, and you sag in relief, almost tearing off your underwear in haste to jump in.

You moan the second you sink into the warmth.

“You do know how stupid that was, right?”

You nod, wishing you could hide from her gaze.

“Then why?”

Your cheeks redden, not from the warmth, but from the sheer embarrassment. Now that you've sobered a little, none of the fun and entertaining ideas Thor and Valkyrie proposed sound fun and entertaining.

She sighs again, and starts gently threading her fingers through your hair, untangling the knots she finds there.

“You're not drinking with them ever again.”

“Okay.”

“And you're not going anywhere near that damned lake anytime soon.”

You wince at the memory of falling through the thin layer of ice after successfully making it halfway across the lake - just like Thor dared you to - and then swimming under said thin layer of ice the remaining half of the way and emerging on the other side, right in front or very angry and very concerned Natasha.

You're probably gonna-

“And you're sleeping on the couch.”

-sleep on the couch. Yep.

“Yes, ma'am.”

“You're an idiot.”

“I am.”

She snorts. “It's very hard to stay mad when you're being so pliant.”

You bite on your lower lip, keeping a bashful grin from emerging. You decide to test your luck when the fond glint in your girlfriend's eyes intensifies.

“So no couch for me, then?”

Her eyes narrow, lips pursing. “You can sleep on the floor if you'd like.”

No luck. Ugh.

“Okay. Couch it is.”

She hums, leaving your side to retrieve a warm fluffy tower. You get up, almost falling into Natasha's arms when you slip. She wraps the towel around your shoulders, holding you against her chest.

“I love you,” you mumble into the crook of her neck, your body buzzing with love, warmth and remnants of alcohol. “So much.”

“And I love you. Even when you're being an idiot, which is-”

“Always?” You interrupt with a grin, pulling away just a tad to see the expression on her face.

Her eyes sparkle in the low light, the lines of her face all soft. “Yes. Always.”

#natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #black widow x you #black widow x reader

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killinfate · 6 months

Note

Dating Mike and Vanessa comes by the house but Mike never told her about reader and never told reader about Vanessa. Jealous reader and mine has to reassure her that there’s nothing between him and Vanessa.

AHHH YES!

JEALOUSY.

i’m gonna end up reusing gifs cuz im struggling sm to find high quality mike gifs

MIKE SCHMIDT X READER

— NATURALLY MIKE DIDN’T WANT YOU ANYWHERE NEAR THE PIZZERIA WHEN HE WENT TO SAVE ABBY. HE HADN’T EVEN TOLD YOU ABOUT ALL THAT WAS HAPPENING UNTIL HE GOT BACK WITH ABBY.

At first you didn’t believe him, but he seemed completely sincere. Who were you to doubt him?

“Vanessa’s out of hospital now, I’ve invited her over for dinner.” Mike says casually one night, crawling into bed beside you. He draped his arm lazily over your waist, ready to get some rest as his eyes close.

You opened your eyes and your brows immediately furrowed.

Who the fuck was Vanessa?

“You haven’t mentioned her before.” You mumble, your voice barely audible. Mike opened his eyes and looked over your shoulder slightly to see your face.

“Hm?” He asked, not having had heard you correctly.

“You haven’t mentioned Vanessa before.” You say clearly. There’s a moment of silence.

“Haven’t I?” His voice was tired.

No, you haven’t Mike.

“She saved Abby back at the pizzeria, she’s been in hospital for a while since it and I thought it’d be nice to invite her over.” Mike says and you grow silent.

“I just thought you’d be okay with it.” He replies simply. Despite your apparent confusion you look up. You were okay with it.

“I’m okay with it.” You reply and Mike smiles, kissing your forehead and holding you closer. However you did stay up a while that night, thinking upon what he’d said.

The next evening you finally meet Vanessa. She’s so beautiful that it’s threatening. Mike greets her warmly and you begin to realise you’re taking note of every gesture and word he says yet you don’t stop yourself. It’s bad; you’re aware.

You, Abby, Mike and Vanessa begin to eat dinner, discussing typical topics about how life was treating them.

At some point, you slowly began to hold Mike’s hand, your thumb tracing over t o back of his hand. Mike looks over to you, giving you a confused glance as his eyes flicker between your hands intertwined and you. You’d never done that before at dinner. This was new.

Vanessa was friendly, she was nice. Yet you were still defensive. You’d tried to follow the same attitude but whenever you laughed or smiled it all seemed…fake, not genuine.

She caught on, and there would usually be an awkward silence to follow any conversation you had with her.

When the evening was over you’d began to get ready for bed. You were in the bathroom, washing your face when you looked up in the mirror and saw Mike walking to the bathroom.

He got in and shut the door, leaning against it so Abby couldn’t listen in. Mike didn’t look particularly happy. “What was that?” He asked his eyes searching yours. You looked to him and laughed a little.

“What was what?” You asked, your voice holding confusion but you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Why were you being like that at dinner?” Mike questioned. He had no clue what could’ve brought on your behaviour yet.

“Nothing was wrong with me at dinner.” You assured him. He scoffed a little, looking away for a moment.

“Vanessa saved mine and Abby’s life. The least you can do is be friendly.” Mike told you.

“I was being friendly, I was talking and I was—“ he cut you off.

“Don’t bullshit me I saw that, you never grab my hand like that at dinner, ever.” Mike told you, his voice holding a hint of anger at your obliviousness.

You noticed his change in tone and your face dropped a little, your facade falling. Mike’s eyes softened at your face and he sighed.

“Look c’mere. I’m sorry. ” He told you, pulling you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes, feeling his hand caressing the back of your head comfortingly.

It took him a moment to put the pieces together. The fake laughing, smiling, holding his hand, how you looked at Vanessa.

Mike kissed the top of your head before moving away slightly so he could see your face. “Were you jealous?” Mike says with a smile, his voice holding a teasing tone.

“I— no I wasn’t. I wasn’t.” You were quick to deny; you completely were.

“Oh okay, okay.” He said, his voice suggesting he didn’t believe you at all.

You run a hand over your face. “I wasn’t that’s..stupid I’m not like that.” You told him quickly but he could see right through you no, his hand moving to caress your cheeks.

“You were, I saw you. You were.” He told you, laughing slightly. You weren’t though and remained doubtful.

He was quick to notice this and pressed his lips to your forehead. “Hey, she’s a friend. That’s it. I promise.” Mike assures you, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks.

“Yeah?” You said quietly, looking up. “Yeah I promise.” Mike replies, pressing an affectionate kiss to your lips. You relaxed immediately from your tense state and kissed back before Mike pulled away, a smile on his face. “I love you.”

“I’ve never seen you like that before it was weird.” He says with a laugh and you roll your eyes.

“I was hardly jealous alright.” You mumbled, making Mike move so you could leave the bathroom. He stepped aside, a laugh still leaving his lips as you opened the door and walked out.

“Alright, tell yourself that.” You hear him say as you walked down the hallway.

#mike schmidt imagine #five nights at freddy’s movie #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #80s

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targaryenluvs · 4 months

Text

— love, and other things

pairings: clarisse la rue x aphrodite!daughter!reader x luke castellan

summary: luke and clarisse attempt to ease you into the concept of you all hanging out, with one end goal, the three of you happily together, which you practically already are.

warnings: luke and clarisse r kinda oblivious, reader is loving this, fluff, worry, kisses n hugs, confessions, luke is lovesick, attackdogs clair and luke

a/n: part one here! since everyone liked the concept, here’s part two! based on the reaction i’ve toned it down, sorry to anyone offended ❤️

tags: @onlyreadz @iluvthemoonandthestars @yourmom2909 @quinnsadilla @littlemiss-fanficlover @shark1008 @prwttiestbunny @urbisexualfriend @symp4nat @dracoslovergirl @slaggylemon @readerreadereater @luv-mia @theworldscalamity @madelainelupin16 @63angel @lildippersblog @ella33 @mira-belcul18 @humongoustacosalad @yourfavmiki @karslyn @sincerely-silk @poppysrin @leahthesimp @yourestargir1 @a2004sworld @lafemmii @liballer @dxddyissue @ahh-chickens @hervegasbaby @love-swimmingwolf @chickenking067 @girl-how-tf-this-shit-work @chr1sgirl4life @dorcas4meadowes @greenlucky7 @zealousenthusiastcheesecak @jonmartinsworldfr @whoemj @dracoslovergirl @stars4salem @csifandom @livil589 @4cepink @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @abbofff @trinkettray @perseus-jackass @kyleebilinski @angelic-delilah @voidashh @craftypastadeanbailiff @jemsyg @babysharkdodorodododo @brook8xoxo @marsbars09 @babyzzlove @lorarri @jadahxx @slutcoresblog

it started off slow of course.

they didn’t want to bombard you with the idea, so they settled with hanging out as a trio more often. it was basically normal at this point. you’d always be hanging out with eachother, talking, laughing, it was great.

you loved having your girlfriend and bestfriend get along finally, being able to hang out with both of them. but the feelings you had stirred confusion in you, and you couldn’t get rid of them. you’d always find yourself debating whether or not you wanted to tell luke about how you felt, but then the guilt would start up again. you had a girlfriend.

luke and clarisse could tell you were acting oddly, but they couldn’t tell why. were you nervous? uncomfortable? it was practically driving them crazy, little did they know you’d finally worked up the nerve to speak up.

yourself and clarisse were sat near the strawberry fields, your head in her lap as you continued to rant about your favourite book. you looked around and realised that the two of you were alone, which was rare. it was now or never, “clair,” she hummed, looking back towards you, “i, can i tell you something?” you sat up, straightening your back, “i think, i think i like luke.”

clarisses heart had been beating in her chest the second you wanted to tell her something, at your words she smiled, luke was going to freak out. “okay.” your eyes were so close to popping out of your head. clarisses temper was known, on a bad day just crossing her path could cause you to have your head shoved in the floor.

and you’d just told her you have a crush on someone else and she was smiling at you. who on earth was this and what had they done to your girlfriend?

“okay? that’s it?” clarisse took your hands into hers gently, “luke likes you too, and i don’t mind it. i— i might like him too. we didn’t want you to be scared or pressured. if you want us all to be together, than that’s your choice. i’m not going anywhere, and if luke is your friend then he’ll accept it.” you sighed, and clarisse held her breath, “how is this going to work?”

for about an hour yourself and clarisse talked about how your relationship would be, what would change, and what would stay. overall, it was just loving an extra person. of course it would be tricky at times, but as long as you were together you could figure it out. now everything aside, it was time to screw with luke.

luke would walk you back to your cabin at night all the time, obviously today would be no different. but what he didn’t know was that clarisse was waiting inside. the idea was basically to mess with him and flirt, but his soft smile and gorgeous eyes attacked your heart.

climbing up the stairs together, your hand reached out for his, stopping luke promptly as he looked at you, “just wait a second,” he grinned, “are you trying to confess your undying love?” the giggle was quiet but heard as heat rose to luke’s cheeks, “well actually,” his eyes grew a bit as he laughed uncomfortably, “i do, well i love you yes as a friend but i like you a lot. i never really admitted it to myself let alone you, but i told clarisse and she told me you liked me back. even before the two of us began dating. i’m sorry for making you wait, it was probably torture.”

he squeezed your hands, “it was. i tried my best to be happy for you but all i could think about was how much i wanted to be in her position. and then out of nowhere, i realised how gorgeous she was. the two of you, i’ve never felt like this before.” you smiled, “well we can all figure it out together no?” you stepped closer to him, hands on his face, smiling at the evident blush, “can i kiss you?” he smiled, “please.”

the kiss is sweet, and everything luke could have wished for, he’d been waiting for so long and he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to let go. your hand reached to his neck, pulling him even closer, the door opening had you pulling back revealing a grinning clarisse. “i take it you didn’t go with the plan?” luke scoffed, “plan? what plan?” the two of laughed as you all made your way inside, “she was supposed to flirt with you and make you flustered. you are blushing so i wouldn’t say it’s a total fail.”

“so, what are we?” luke questioned the two of you, you shrugged your shoulders. clarisse laid down on the bed with you next to her, and on your right, luke. feet dangling off the bed and all staring up at the ceiling, “together, i think that’s all that matters.” clarisse replied as you frowned, “but what are people going to say?” luke and clarisse got up at the same time, anger filling the both of them at the idea of you being made fun of, not them, you. “if anyone has the stupidity to even comment on it, they’ll be in the infirmary for a month.” luke smiled, “no one’s going to say anything, because we won’t let them. don’t worry your head about it.” you smiled, kissing clarisse on instinct. “don’t third wheel me now.” luke smirked as you rolled your eyes, “clarisse is right there.” the two inched closer as you laid back down.

you couldn’t actually believe what you were seeing, yourself, clarisse and luke, in your bed, strewn about and happy. all interacting, all together. luke’s head was about to explode due to the fact that he had two amazing girls, all to himself.

the rest of the night you laughed and talked, your cabin siblings joining in as you all stayed up.

speaking about love and other things.

there’s been a lot of talk obviously and i understand where everyone is coming from so i toned it down and will continue to do so.

i’m sorry to anyone that was offended beforehand, i totally understand what you’re speaking on and what you think. to everyone who was excited for the previous version, please understand why i changed it. i love writing, but not at the expense of others.

- kira

#clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #clarisse x reader #clarisse la rue x reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #clarisse x luke x reader

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soapsbaby · 1 year

Text

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts.

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #oh lord there's gonna be so many tags on this help #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #captain price x reader #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #ari writes

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buckyalpine · 5 months

Text

Fluff, domestic cuteness, more fluff, I know it’s not everyone’s thing but pleaseee hear me out; just imagine beeeefy paramedic Bucky taking care of you when you’re in labor. You’re ex decided to leave halfway, realizing he wasn’t ready to be a father when you were already midway through your pregnancy, not that he was much help in the first place. You managed all on your own, ready to bring your little baby into the world all by yourself which is exactly how you ended up in this situation.

You were so close to your due date, ready to pop at any moment but your cravings for a donut didn't cease so you waddled down to the corner coffee shop in hopes of getting something with double chocolate.

Everything was fine until another customer bumped into you, sending you tumbling to the floor. A sudden sharp searin pain began to radiate through the lower half of your belly making you cry out in pain and it didn't take long for a crowd to form, the number of shouting voices and concerned faces adding to your growing anxiety. Al elderly woman held you hand while you tried to hold back tears; you couldn't get up, still laying on the floor when the faint sound of an ambulance grew louder.

A firm voice cleared the path, 2 large men walking towards you, ushering the crowd away from you first. The one with brunette hair crouches over to you, giving you a comforting smile before asking you a few quick basic questions, all while neatly looking over you for any signs of a major injury.

“Up you go, mama” he lifted you up with 0 effort, carrying you carefully in his thick arms, laying you down gently onto the stretcher. A sudden contraction rips through you causing you to panic more while your on your way to the hospital but he takes your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.

"Hey, its okay, look at me doll, focus on me alright?" He continue to hold your hand while monitoring your heart rate and vitals, timing your contractions since they're happening closer and closer together. "I know it won't make the pain go away but how about I try and distract you, hm? My names James but you can call me Bucky" He threw you a wink while you tried your best to focus on the feel of his hand, calloused palms from lifting, yet soft and warm. You focused on his baby blue eyes and scruffy beard and sweet pink lips that curve into a half smile; no doubt he was a shy charmer.

As soon as the ambulance stops, you're whisked away to the delivery ward, poked and prodded by doctors again. None of this was part of the plan and the pain was getting worse.

"How's she doing" Bucky came by the ward on his break, curious about the sweet thing he helped earlier in the day; surely you had a partner of some sort but he couldn't help himself nonetheless. The doctor directed him to your room, his heart breaking seeing your tear streaked, terrified face.

"Everything alright, mama?" He knew you were scared, hell, he was scared himself just thinking about the situation. He rested his hand on top of yours, careful not to touch anywhere near needles. You'd been at this hospital for 2 hours already and you were still alone without another visitor in sight. "Is uh-anyone-do you want me to call anyone-

You shook your head, biting down on your lip to keep it from trembling, gripping onto him tighter. The pain was becoming unbearable, alerting the doctor and nurse to check on you again.

"She's gonna have to start pushing" You overheard the nurse as she spoke to the doctor, your heartrate racing more. Your panic stricken face wasn't missed by Bucky, still planted in his seat as if he had any business being there. He debated on if you felt comfortable with him there, ready to go or stay, whatever you needed.

"Doll, it's almost time, I can leave-

"Please-please don't go" You shakily cling onto his hand, now frozen in fear when you realize the moment is coming. The baby is almost here and you're alone. There's no one here to support you, no one here to-

"M'not going anywhere, I'm here, you're doin' great" Bucky let you squeeze his hand as tightly as you wanted, coaching you through your breathing while you were prepared to have the baby. "C'mon, push mama, you can do it, almost there"

You were in tears, sweating, crying, and Bucky couldn't help but find you beautiful. Not that he'd say that right then and there but there was something so raw and powerful in that moment, seeing you give yourself to bring in another life. He watched in awe as you fought with your body to push a human out of you.

"One more, just one more and your little one is here, you can do it doll, one last big push" He dabbed your forehead with a cool cloth, comforting you until you let out a final gasp, tiny screams filling the room. You fall back against the bed panting and he still holds your hand, gently rubbing your knuckles while giving you a proud smile.

"You did it, you did amazing mama"

After your baby boy is born, you still occasionally visit the hospital for checkups. You can't help the way your cheeks heat up every time you see Bucky, giving him a shy smile, lingering to talk to him longer than necessary every time you see him. You insisted on buying him and the rest of the paramedic crew coffee and donuts for helping you safely deliver your baby boy. Bucky blushes when you give him an extra donuts as a special thank you.

Each time he sees you, he likes you even more but he doesn't want to push his luck. Not when you're probably still trying to figure things out. Initially he's a little unsure, wanting to give you some space. He's also careful not to overstep any boundaries, making sure he's respectful.

Eventually he can't help himself.

He has to ask you out.

And he does.

3 years and a wedding later

You giggle watching your husband and son both press their heads against your swollen belly, whispering secrets to the little one growing inside as if you couldn't see them.

"Daddy, can she hear us?" Daniel asks with wide eyes, his little hands trying to feel the places where his baby sister was kicking.

"She can hear you baby, let her know you're gonna be her big brother" Bucky chuckled while Daniel continued to talk to your belly like he did every night ever since you found out you were pregnant.

"I can't wait to meet you" He hugs your tummy before crawling into Bucky's arms, ready to go to bed. Bucky takes him to his room, laying him down and tucking him in, pressing a kiss to his head before turning off the lights.

"Sleep tight little man"

"Night, daddy"

Your second pregnancy is nothing like your fist. Bucky is there by your side for every second of it. He takes time off work, cradling your belly so you don't have back pain. He reads up on books to take care of your cravings. He worships your changing body.

"Look at you, Mrs. Barnes" Bucky cooed, loving the way you filled out his Henley, your little belly stretching it while you pouted at him.

"I'm huge Bucky" you whined while he grinned, rubbing your tummy.

"S'cause you're carrying my baby, mama" He kissed your head, his large form scooping you up for some midday cuddles. He holds your close to his chest, excited over his growing family. You smile against his chest, closing your eyes while he rubs your back.

You're so happy you decided you wanted a donut.

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