#violent can and does mean a stubbed toe

[gorebonk]

Ricky carriers around little printouts of comic sound effects and holds them up whenever something violent happens

[clementine-writes-things]

MacCready Headcanons (SFW)

A/N: My headcanons are always really long and detailed bc I love making them. So, sorry if this one is really long. I love MacCready.

Personality:

He is smart when it comes to survival, but not when it comes to robotics or science. In situations like that, he's the equivalent of a drooling baby.

Super sarcastic. He tends to "lighten" tense situations with humor. He'll see a group of raiders/super mutants/etc and say shit like "Oh, well here comes the welcome wagon!"

Even though he is only 22, he has been through a lot of shit. Because of this, he isn't easily trusting of others, and he is very reserved. He is always suspicious of people until they give him a reason not to be.

MacCready isn't really arrogant, but he knows he's dangerous. He knows he's a good shot. If someone pisses him off, he'll inform them of this fact by subtly revealing the pistol on his hip.

"Wanna watch your tone?"

Once you further your friendship/relationship with him, he'll become more and more comfortable with opening up, and he'll show concern/care for you more. However, if you aren't that close, he simply does not give a fuck.

He's not insanely tall (5'10), but he's still intimidating when in his presence. It's hard to explain, but his "resting face" is piercing. It's like he's staring into your soul...

He's very desensitized to death because he saw so much when he ran with the gunners, but he hates seeing people in pain.

He's horrible with small talk, tells terrible jokes, and can be an asshole (though, he doesn't mean to be)

When you get close with him, he can be pretty protective. It's sad, but ever since Lucy, he's felt like a failure for not being able to save her. So, whenever there is an opportunity to help you, he jumps at it.

Once your relationship is strong, he doesn't like it when you travel without him. It's not because he's jealous, but because he's worried something bad will happen when he's not with you. He doesn't want you to end up like Lucy...

HUGE piner. The more he travels with you, the more he grows fond of you. He'll find himself thinking of you, even if you're not with him.

He'll hear a song on the radio and think "this reminds me of them"

This man is extremely violent when he needs to be. He'll threaten people, and his threats are ALWAYS promises. He isn't afraid to kick someone's ass, especially if they are a piece of shit.

Hobbies:

Collects comics. Specifically, Grognak The Barbarian. He knows everything about them and nerds out if he finds a comic.

When he isn't traveling with you, he chills at a settlement and listens to Diamond City radio while modifying his weapons.

Because he was a farmer for a little while, he likes to tend to crops in his free time. It reminds him of Duncan and Lucy.

He taught himself how to read back in the Capital Wasteland, and he'll occasionally read old books he finds.

Random:

He literally hates Radroaches so much. They make him so uncomfortable. Gags whenever he sees one.

His favorite colors are mossy green and sunset orange.

Believe it or not, he actually takes care of himself. He bathes (when he gets an opportunity), brushes his teeth when he can find toothpaste, and brushes his hair everyday.

Misses Little Lamplight so much. Sometimes, if he's at a settlement, he'll sleep in a cave near it, or sleep with blankets covering his head to mimic the darkness.

Random Things He'd Say/Do:

(Sees a tripwire, nearly activating the trap. He clutches a hand to his chest.) "My heart just fell to my as-, uh...let's keep going..."

(Stops walking to look at a bird, eyes narrowing.) "Think it'd taste good?"

(Stubs toe and bites on his tongue. Instead of cussing, he lets out a shaky breath, putting his head against the wall.) "Ouch."

(Y/n trips, making MacCready roll his eyes.) "Jesus, stay aware of your surrou-" (Trips and faceplants.)

(Y/n and MacCready are at a trading outpost. It's clear that the trader is trying to swindle y/n. MacCready takes a drag from his cigarette, pointing it at the trader.) "You want me to snuff this out in your eye, dude? Stop dicking around with us."

[whumpsday]

Hi! I have a (possibly) silly question.

So we can all see how Kane's personality (?) has changed after the hunters and how he's pushing down a lot of negative emotions, but a little bit further down the line does he like... openly get angry? Frustrated? U know, stuff that I for example consider normal and valid human things to feel and show (if you don't take it out on people for no reason). I feel like he so badly wants to be 'good' that he'd be suppressing a lot, but I think there's no way he doesn't feel angry anymore?

Would seeing Kane getting mad (of even just frustrated) at something get Jim to have more negative reactions? (I feel like it would)

Not really sure where I was going with this now tbh 😐

I think I just had a thought like the old Kane was always bitter and angry and violent and ye I'm glad he isn't now and hes actually happy and safe and loved but uhhh...like, I also felt a little like he might be pushing down lots of negative emotions from now on and holding it in can't really be good either? (I do suck at not only explaining what I mean to say but also at humans behavior and personalities so if I'm talking utter bullshit please forgive me 😅)

not a silly question at all!

there are basically 2 things repressing anger in kane right now. the main one is that now instead of taking his anger out on the world or those around him, he internalizes pretty much all of it. instead of "i'm angry that these people are hurting me", it's "i deserve this, it's my fault, but i desperately wish i didn't deserve it." when it's more mundane, everyday situations (like he stubbed his toe or smth), it becomes "i deserve much worse than this" instead. most situations will have his anger "absorbed" into self-loathing this way. the second is that even if he does get angry about something that he can't just blame himself for and get sad, he's terrified to express it in any way.

this is something he will heal from in time, but it's going to take him a WHILE. (and yes, it would scare jim to see kane angry.)

[asinine-leporine]

MacCready HC's (SFW)

A/N: My headcanons are always really long and detailed bc I love making them. So, sorry if this one is really long. I love MacCready.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨🐇୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Personality:

He is smart when it comes to survival, but not when it comes to robotics or science. In situations like that, he's the equivalent of a drooling baby.

Super sarcastic. He tends to "lighten" tense situations with humor. He'll see a group of raiders/super mutants/etc and say shit like "Oh, well here comes the welcome wagon!"

Even though he is only 22, he has been through a lot of shit. Because of this, he isn't easily trusting of others, and he is very reserved. He is always suspicious of people until they give him a reason not to be.

MacCready isn't really arrogant, but he knows he's dangerous. He knows he's a good shot. If someone pisses him off, he'll inform them of this fact by subtly revealing the pistol on his hip.

"Wanna watch your tone?"

Once you further your friendship/relationship with him, he'll become more and more comfortable with opening up, and he'll show concern/care for you more. However, if you aren't that close, he simply does not give a fuck.

He's not insanely tall (5'10), but he's still intimidating when in his presence. It's hard to explain, but his "resting face" is piercing. It's like he's staring into your soul...

He's very desensitized to death because he saw so much when he ran with the gunners, but he hates seeing people in pain.

He's horrible with small talk, tells terrible jokes, and can be an asshole (though, he doesn't mean to be)

When you get close with him, he can be pretty protective. It's sad, but ever since Lucy, he's felt like a failure for not being able to save her. So, whenever there is an opportunity to help you, he jumps at it.

Once your relationship is strong, he doesn't like it when you travel without him. It's not because he's jealous, but because he's worried something bad will happen when he's not with you. He doesn't want you to end up like Lucy...

HUGE piner. The more he travels with you, the more he grows fond of you. He'll find himself thinking of you, even if you're not with him.

He'll hear a song on the radio and think "this reminds me of them"

This man is extremely violent when he needs to be. He'll threaten people, and his threats are ALWAYS promises. He isn't afraid to kick someone's ass, especially if they are a piece of shit.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Hobbies:

Collects comics. Specifically, Grognak The Barbarian. He knows everything about them and nerds out if he finds a comic.

When he isn't traveling with you, he chills at a settlement and listens to Diamond City radio while modifying his weapons.

Because he was a farmer for a little while, he likes to tend to crops in his free time. It reminds him of Duncan and Lucy.

He taught himself how to read back in the Capital Wasteland, and he'll occasionally read old books he finds.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Random:

He literally hates Radroaches so much. They make him so uncomfortable. Gags whenever he sees one.

His favorite colors are mossy green and sunset orange.

Believe it or not, he actually takes care of himself. He bathes (when he gets an opportunity), brushes his teeth when he can find toothpaste, and brushes his hair everyday.

Misses Little Lamplight so much. Sometimes, if he's at a settlement, he'll sleep in a cave near it, or sleep with blankets covering his head to mimic the darkness.

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Random Things He'd Say/Do:

(Sees a tripwire, nearly activating the trap. He clutches a hand to his chest.) "My heart just fell to my as-, uh...let's keep going..."

(Stops walking to look at a bird, eyes narrowing.) "Think it'd taste good?"

(Stubs toe and bites on his tongue. Instead of cussing, he lets out a shaky breath, putting his head against the wall.) "Ouch."

(Y/n trips, making MacCready roll his eyes.) "Jesus, stay aware of your surrou-" (Trips and faceplants.)

(Y/n and MacCready are at a trading outpost. It's clear that the trader is trying to swindle y/n. MacCready takes a drag from his cigarette, pointing it at the trader.) "You want me to snuff this out in your eye, dude? Stop dicking around with us."

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

May I please request some wholesome headcanons of Joker and Dagger as fathers? And maybe Jumbo or Peter too?

TOOT TOOT WHOLESOME EXPRESS PULLING INTO THE STATION!!

I love these boys <3

The most overprotective father you will ever meet?? It’s a natural extension of his being protective of his S/O, he’s ever more protective of his child. If he even thinks there’s a threat, he’s right there, knives drawn, ready to defend his little one if he needs to.

Is his child’s favorite person ever when they’re a baby… has trouble relating to them when they get older, like around ten and older. He gets a little smothering and has a lot of difficulty in letting his child be independent. He just… wants to keep them safe forever, and allowing them to go out into the world without him there to do that isn’t easy. Of course, because of that, his child is probably going to be looking for excuses to do things on their own, which means Dagger sort of starts to feel like they don’t like him anymore. It’s complicated!

If he’s not using his prosthetic, he sometimes jokingly leans on their head once they’re older. Obviously he doesn’t expect them to support his weight, so he’s careful, and he uses his crutch to actually walk. It’s just something he does to tease them, “oi, c’mere, sweet’eart, gimme a ‘and… or, y’know, a leg!” Do they think it’s funny when they’re like five or six? Absolutely! Is it still funny when they’re around twelve? Not… not so much. He still thinks it’s funny, but, well, teenagers…

He’s very good at doing their hair if they need or want him to! It’s especially prominent if he has girls; he’s a master at ponytails, braids, and buns. Even his family asks him to help with their kids’ hair, and he’s always there to lend a hand if his child’s friends have a hair emergency. It’s very cute to watch him fiddle with a child’s hair, attentive and clearly having done his homework on it.

He knows how lucky he is to have a family like this, so he’s the kind of father who tells his child every single day that he loves them. The knowledge of his mother leaving him, the not knowing why or if she ever loved him, has shaped this part of him. He doesn’t want his child or children to ever wonder about his love for them like he wondered.

Forever singing and humming for his child, no matter how old they get. He holds them in his arms and whispers lullabies when they’re a baby, and when they get a little older, he sings duets with them. He’s one who keeps up on popular music, so he can definitely go toe-to-toe with them. Every old song he knows gets passed down to them as well, because he thinks it’s important to share those things which mean something to him, so that maybe they can mean something to his little one, too.

If his child was born without one arm like he was, he doesn’t want them to feel bad about it like he felt. He wants it to just… be normal, to not feel like they’re less of a person or like they’re missing pieces. So what does he do? He makes it a point of bonding between the two of them! He’ll nudge their stubs together the same way other people give a high five, or he’ll ‘boop’ their stub like someone else taps a child on the nose. It’s just a part of their life, right? No need to make it a big thing one way or another.

He’ll happily help them with their makeup if they want. He’s gotten quite good at it over the years, running the circus, so he at least knows a bit about what goes with what. It’s also one more thing that he can try to get time in with them… even when they’re older and a little eager to run off with friends. He can make them look nice before they go off, can’t he? As much as he loves them, he tries very hard to not be overbearing. When they do spend time with him like this, though… he thoroughly cherishes it.

Honestly, he just violently hopes his child didn’t inherit the condition he has. He’s learning how to be okay with himself the way he is, but it’s still not something he would choose for them to suffer with. Plus, especially when they’re young… he likes it when they’re just little. The idea of this tiny life being something he created and needs to protect makes it not so bad being bigger and taller than most people. It means he can keep them safe.

Oh, they are so learning how to play the harmonica as soon as they’re old enough, assuming they want to learn. This is the thing that helps soothe his nerves, and it’s something he plays a lot when they’re a baby. It’s one of those underrated instruments that he really finds a lot of joy and peace in. Of course, if they don’t want to learn, that’s fine. He’ll still give them his harmonica when they get old enough, as sort of a family heirloom. It’s the most valuable thing he owns, so, it will eventually be theirs.

… Is a little shy about how other people see him. His child’s friends or their parents or just people on the street while they’re walking? He tries not to stand out more than he already does. That’s maybe where most of whatever awkwardness is between him and his kid comes from; he’s intimidating without meaning to be. When people look at him, they see a tall, muscular, sour-looking gent and are understandably a little anxious about talking to him. He knows it, and he’s insecure, and just doesn’t know how to change it. (Good thing his child loves him anyway, even if it’s a bit awkward sometimes!)

Watch him be absolutely thrilled if his child wants to ride on his shoulders ever. Or, like, all the time. It’s one of the most ‘normal’ or useful things he can do for them, so he’s happy to do it. Even if his back hurts some, he’ll brave it just so he can carry them around. It doesn’t have to be on his shoulders, either — he’ll carry them in his arms too. That’s also when he looks his happiest and most content… getting to carry them around. He smiles a lot when he’s doing it.

… His child might be a cheeky little thing, so he’s constantly chasing them around and shouting at them to, for example, “Oi! Get y’r shoe off y’r ‘ead ‘n’ onta y’r foot!!!” It’s not that he hasn’t raised them to behave, it’s just that especially as a toddler, they’re playful and like to tease their papa. It’s extra prominent if they’re not as small as he is, meaning the two of them are on equal footing height-wise for a while; it’s difficult for him to snatch them up when they’re running since they aren’t that much smaller than him!!

He actually is much more of a worrier than most people would think. Every little scrape, he’s dragging his kid over to Wendy and asking if it looks like something is wrong with it. Or, when they get older, asking if she thinks they’re okay if his child is out a little later than they said they’d be. It’s not easy for him to stop worrying, because, well… he knows how horrible the world can be. He’s scared of something happening to them, because he knows how many bad things can happen. He tries not to actually ‘fuss’, but when his child gets the third degree about staying out late and it turns out everything was fine, they’re really not going to be too happy with their father.

When they’re a baby, he lies in bed and sleeps with them sleeping on his chest. It’s the way to get some sleep while they’re still with him so he doesn’t worry… the closeness doesn’t hurt for bonding. When they get older, if they’re bigger than he is, he still likes to sleep with them once in a while. If they’re sad or had a nightmare. It’s half funny and half cute to watch, since he’s half their size and still trying to get them to rest their head on his shoulder. It sort of works? Mostly it just matters that they know he’s always there if they need him.

It’s not that he’s a homebody. It’s not… not that, though. Going out tends to make him stressed simply because crowds have a lot of people, and people in general do things, little things, that irritate him. It’s probably just his past showing itself, that his having anger problems is no secret. However, if his child wants to do something out in the world and they want him with them, he’ll do it for them. It’s not easy for him to shove all that anger in and pretend it’s not there; he does it anyway. And, well, he finds that maybe it isn’t so bad, and maybe there aren’t as many reasons to be irritated if he’s with his family.

[seasonoftheslashers]

Hello there, I've been thinking for days about how the Sinclair brothers would act with a girl who has a truck driver's mouth. it would be funny to see

The Sinclair brothers with a fem reader who swears a lot

Warnings:foul and violent language, violence not proofread. (Please tell me if I missed anything

Bo Sinclair

Headcannons

-Bo swears a lot himself so he doesn’t mind swearing too much.

-He is a bit shocked at first when he hears you say like a bunch of cuss words though.

-He chuckles to himself when you swear, he might jokingly tell you he’ll get soap if you start cussing more.

-Whenever you get angry and cuss he feels a bit amused. He might even try to piss you off even more to get a reaction out of you.

One shot

You stood in the kitchen washing dishes. When you went to put the dish down on the drying rack, you put it a little too close to the edge and it fell. SHATTER! The dishes were in a bunch of pieces scattered around the floor. Immediately you let out a loud “Fuck! Stupid ass dishes..” You carefully walk over to get the broom, avoiding each shard as best as you could when you turn around you see the one and only, Bo Sinclair. “You gonna clean that up?” He says nonchalantly, pretty used to you swearing. Immediately you feel rage bubble up within your chest. “Excuse me?” “You heard me, but I’ll repeat myself because I’m in a good mood. I said are you gonna clean that up?” He replies. “I am, now move your ass before I beat it.” You walk over to to broom but Bo moves in front of you blocking your way. You look up at him, beyond pissed. You take a deep breathe in and say “I’m sorry Bo, I’m just so fucking pissed.” He smirks “Yeah, I can tell darlin.” You smile up at him and kiss his cheek, you then grab the broom and clean up the mess. He takes a sip of his beer, walking over to the couch. You follow, then you two cuddle.

Vincent Sinclair

Headcannons

-He’s pretty used to swearing considering he grew up with Bo and Lester.

-But that doesn’t mean he’s not shocked when he hears you swear up a storm because you stubbed your toe.

-He’s a bit though intimidated because it reminds him of the times that Bo yells at him.

-He gets a bit overwhelmed if you and Bo happen to fight because there’s gonna be a ton of swearing.

-If you get angry and cuss he does his best to try calming you down.

One shot

You were currently fighting a girl who got away from Bo. She punched you in the face, immediately you feel your nose..it was bleeding. “Fuck you, ya goddamn cunt!” You punched her in the chest and then again in the face. She fell backwards to the floor from how hard you hit her, but you weren’t satisfied yet. You straddled her, lifting your fist and punching her. Over and over and over, until your fists are covered in blood. You got up dusting yourself off. “I told you not to fuck with me. Stupid bitch.” You look over seeing Vincent. Your expression lightens into a happy one. You run over to him and hug him, and you two leave.

Lester Sinclair

Headcannons

-You remind him a lot of his brother.

-He laughs a bit when you swear. He finds it quite amusing.

-He isn’t scared or intimidated.

-When you’re angry he does his best to make you smile and laugh, he’ll even take you for a drive!

One shot

When Lester came through the door you smiled, you instantly got off the couch and ran to him, hugging him. You pulled away and looked at him. He wasn’t very happy. “What’s wrong Les?” He sighs. “Bo’s been a bit cranky today.” You frown. “You want me to beat the shit out of him? Because I will absolutely do it for you, Les.” You brought both of your hands up, punching the other. He chuckles. “Nah, all I need is you and Jonesy.” The two of you go to the couch and sit down, watching TV with Jonesy.

End.

I hope you like it! I can totally make another one if you want.

[schneesisterss]

I have Cassandra Dimitrescu brain rot and it literally Won’t Leave Me Alone so here are some headcannons:

she’s mean as FUCK bc she doesn’t know how to deal with her emotions in a healthy way

very mean to her sisters too but like... (affectionate)

also she’s the only one that can bully them, if anyone other than herself even LOOKS at them funny, that person will definitely go missing

“nobody bullies my siblings, except for me”

has Protective Older Sister vibes even though she’s not the oldest and is extremely protective of her family

particularly when it comes to Daniela. Cassandra has like a sixth sense where she can tell whenever her younger sister is in danger and goes RUNNIN to check on her.

Cassandra, weapon drawn: “DANI WHATS WRONG ARE YOU OK??”

Daniela, swinging from the ceiling by her foot: “Oh, hello sister. It seems I have stepped on my own trap.”

Cass, exhausted, pinching the bridge of her nose: “Daniela. What the fuck.”

Cassandra gets her down and smacks her on the back of the head (but not before subtly checking her for injuries)

she has a very hard time opening up to people bc she feels weak when she does and she HATES feeling weak

the only person she has ever cried in front of is their mother

and speaking of Alcina, Cassandra definitely gets her protectiveness from her mother. those two turn into a pair of rage monsters whenever someone they care about gets hurt.

one time Bela got severely injured by a lycan and Cassandra was like: “Those stupid mutts, i’ll kill them all, I swear!” and moves to leave but her mother stops her, “Hold on daughter, it’s quite rude of you not to extend the invitation.” and they both leave, eyes completely black with rage and murder. Daniela stays with Bela but waves them off happily in the background. “See you soon! Bring me back a lycan heart!”

does not know how to deal with her anger and sometimes has to punch the brick walls in the basement just to release some of the energy

her knuckles are almost always cut up and bruised bc of this

Alcina has walked in on more than one of her outbursts. She takes her daughters arms so she stops punching the walls, and pulls her into her chest. Cassandras breathing is erratic and she’s shaking violently with rage.

“Shhh my love, breathe.” Cassandra exhales in a way that Alcina can’t tell if she’s crying or seething. “What’s happened?”

Cassandras breathing speeds up through gritted teeth and she pulls against her mother, as if trying to get back to the wall. “I d-didn’t know what else to do.” her voice is hard like she was stating a fact.

Alcina strokes her pinky finger down her daughters nose, a trick that’s always worked for keeping her angriest at child at bay, and holds her there until she’s calmed down.

Afterwards, they don’t talk about it. Alcina knows Cassandra is already too embarrassed so she only wraps up her knuckles and says, “I think I heard Daniela call out for you a little bit ago, she had that tone of voice she gets whenever she’s in over her head.”

Cassandra just scoffs, “She’s just an idiot.” but moves immediately so go check on her younger sibling. She stops just before she’s out the door, “Mother I....” Alcina sees the hidden gratitude in her daughters eyes. “I know, dear. Go.” And her middle child nods and bursts into a cloud of bugs.

so.... there’s that.

I may be projecting but who knows.

ANYWAY

can throw a Wicked punch

very competitive and a sore loser

her competitiveness comes out the most when Bela is involved

Cassandra thinks Bela is their mothers favorite and that creates a lot of tension between the two of them bc Cassandra low key looks up to Bela (but will never tell her that) and wants to please mother just like she does. She feels the anger under her skin whenever their mother praises Bela instead of her

(Cassandra craves praise just as much as Bela but will NEVER show how the lack of it effects her)

Mean Lesbian™️

so, so touch starved

when anyone outside of her mother or sisters touch her softly she snaps bc a) she’s not used to it and b) she get filled with complicated and confusing emotions that she doesn’t know what to do with

quickest to yell at a maiden whenever they mess up

when she’s in a good mood she can actually be very playful and teasing (“rawr! >:D”)

hums to herself when she’s bored and sometimes (rarely) sings when Bela is playing the piano

the best at makeup out of the three daughters

Daniela always begs her to do her make up for her and Cassandra just pretends to be annoyed and does it anyway (she secretly loves it)

Bela also tentatively asked one time and Cassandra was shocked because Bela never asks for favors

they sit in silence while she applies Belas makeup but eventually asks “Why ask me to do this now? There had been plenty of other opportunities before.” her voice comes out more defensive than she wanted it too, but she leaves it be.

Bela studies her with calculating and knowing eyes before looking away and opening her mouth “You love doing this. I can tell.” Cass stops moving her hand. “I see the proud look on your face when Dani runs to show Mother your work. I just...” Bela shrugs, “want to be a part of that too. For you.” She glances back to her dark haired sister and shifts in her seat.

Cassandra didn’t know how to react, let alone respond. The lump in her throat was wide and pushed against her windpipe. Her and Bela had never really gotten along, but hearing this from her older sister felt like a small weight was lifted from her shoulders. It felt like acceptance. She cleared her throat and gently grabbed her sisters chin to pull it back into place. “Well maybe if you stopped squirming, i’d be able to get it done faster.”

Bela shoots her a very small, understanding smile, it was more of a smirk really, but it got the point across. I love you. No matter what. and Cassandra felt like she could finally breathe.

(I love sibling dynamics leave me alone)

claims she’s a top, is actually a switch

impatient as hell

Smooth Talker

her ability to talk her and her sisters out of sketchy situations has saved their asses more than once

“Hey Cassandra, would you punch Uncle Heisenberg in the face for $100?”

“I’d roundhouse kick him in the face for free.”

cue Alcina spitting up her wine.

probably swears the most too lol

*stubs toe* “Son of a mother fucking bitch that shit HURT.” Alcina: *raises eyebrow* “Well I certainly didn’t teach her that vile language.... Heisenberg.” Heisenberg: ......

knows how to wield a butterfly knife like a complete badass

Alcina: “CASSSANDRRAAA”

Cassandra: *instant fear*

uhhhh that’s it. did I go overboard? probaby. do I care? absolutely not and i’ll most likely be doing this again very soon lmaooo.

also p.s. send me more headcannon requests for Cassandra and i’ll answer them!

[fictif-moonlight]

Hello again po can i request again Htll Main 3 x mc That is a Filipino? And The mc teaches them to speak Tagalog but Its curse like to it And say "Pota means is beautiful" and what would the main 3 reaction after knowing to True meaning? (Sorry po sa grammar mare😭✋)

Thanks for the request again po! I was so excited to make this because I'm Filipino and it's always nice to see fellow Filipinos in the fandom. (I don't mind your grammar mare)  

Heir to Love and Lies Main 3 Headcanons:  

With a Filipino Mc

Warning: Strong languages (Curses, not used violently)

Writings Masterlist

Genre: Mostly Comedy

For context: Pota/Puta in Tagalog has the same meaning as Puta in Spanish. (A curse word meaning "Your mom's a whore" or just "whore")

Sergio:

• When you taught him Tagalog words and phrases, the moment you said "Pota" means beautiful he was very suspicious of you. He had a shock expression and tried to hide his smirk.

- "Oh… We have a very similar word… with a very different meaning."

• A part of him didn't believe you so he decided to search it on the internet. He was so proud of himself when he found out his suspicions we're right.

- "I knew it! They thought they were sly."

• He does his research out of curiosity and found out the Philippines was colonized by Spain for 333 years. Which is why many words and phrases in Tagalog are similar to Spanish. The two of you found it pretty easy to learn each others language because of this. He got very excited during his research when he realized the cultures have many similarities too.

- "Cariño, we also have a similar-! This too! Who would have known our cultures are more similar than we thought."

Chava:

• He didn't think much about the "Pota" means beautiful thing, he just straight up believed you. Poor baby, he realized the true meaning of it when you stubbed your toe and cursed "Pota!" That's when it hit him.

- "Didn't you say that word means beautiful?" Chava says with a smirk and one eyebrow lifted.

• When you told him what it really means he laughed at your mischievousness. And told you about "Puta."

- "Hahaha! You know... 'Puta' in Spanish has the same meaning."

•Now that he knows the meaning, just wait til he hears you say you want to eat some "puto seko" (A snack delicacy in Tagalog, dry male whore in Spanish 😭)

- "Mc, what did you say you want to eat?"

He looked very confused and concerned.

Val:

• The moment you told her "Pota" means beautiful she told you on the spot they have a curse word that sounds similar to it. She didn't think you were lying about it's meaning though

- "Really?! We have a similar sounding word. 'Puta', is a curse word in Spanish."

• She wanted revenge when she found out its true meaning. So she decided to mess with you.

- "Mc, I have a really cool Spanish word I wanna teach you. 'Mierda' means wonderful. When something wonderful happens to you, you should say 'mierda'.

• If you teach her slangs like "Sana all" (Hope all), "Charot lang" (Just joking) and "Epal" (Kill Joy) she will use them at a daily basis.

- "One of my friends were being so epal earlier, charot lang."

Note: My ask box is open if anyone wants to ask/request some Fanfics and Headcanons. I will write for Sergio, Chava, Val and other Heir to Love and Lies Characters.

[andypantsx3]

conspire | 5 | feelings

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

length: 13,307 words / 5 chapters

summary: Shouto Todoroki had definitely only asked you out in order to ward off his horde of interested suitors. So why does he keep actually taking you out on suspiciously realistic dates?

tags: romance, reader-insert, fake dating, misunderstandings

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut

You finished Shouto’s support item on a Friday.

As soon as you’d wrapped the last wire in place, you’d stopped, staring down at your work table for a long moment. You considered whether any of this was a good idea, if you shouldn’t just wait it out until after graduation, if you should just stay quiet forever and never betray any of your thoughts to Shouto. The idea of going forward with your plan was overwhelming--after today you wouldn’t get to kiss him anymore, you might not even get to spend any time with him anymore.

You would miss this. But it had to happen.

You’d taken a steadying breath and fired off a message to Shouto: Meet me in the support studio? I have something to tell you.

He had texted back almost immediately, his message betraying his confusion but agreeing to meet nonetheless.

You didn’t have to wait long for him to arrive. He turned up outside the workroom in minutes, looking almost exactly as he had that day when he’d come to ask you for the favor, nervous and adorable. He was still dressed in the white shirt and dark slacks of the school uniform, and you tried to ignore the way it emphasized the broadness of his shoulders, his impossibly narrow waist. Getting distracted wouldn’t help you right now.

“Shouto,” you smiled as he entered, trying to push down your nerves. “I finished your support item.”

A strange look of relief crossed his features and he came padding over to your worktop, glancing down curiously. You pushed what looked like almost exact dupes of his wrist guards forward.

“I already submitted the prototype of these for a grade, but I wanted you to have them before grades came back,” you said, then flipped the guards inside out to expose a thin metallic underside interspersed with criss crossing wires. “I made modifications to them. I told you that your quirk works the same way as an air conditioner, right?”

Shouto smirked. “How could I forget that conversation?”

You blushed. You’d maybe been a little excited. And you supposed it wasn’t every day that a man was informed that he was just a walking, talking heat pump.

“Okay, well it got me thinking that you could prevent frostbite and heat stroke after prolonged usage of your quirk, if you had the right equipment,” you said. “Like, air conditioners don’t freeze or heat over even if you leave them on for months at a time.”

Shouto looked interested, pressing a long finger to the underside of one of the guards, tracing over a wire. “How does it work?”

You smiled. “I basically built variations on evaporator and condenser coils into your wrist braces. The short version is that they take the thermal energy you pass them and transfer it outside your body so that you won’t feel the effects as much. So if you heat this one,” you pointed to the one on the left, “it will extract that energy and help keep you cool. The reverse is true for the other guard.”

Shouto picked them up, looking impressed. “So I can use my quirk for longer without feeling its effects?”

You nodded. “You exert too much thermal energy for them to be as effective as if they were built into an actual air conditioner, since no air conditioner that I know of deals with heat over twenty five hundred degrees fahrenheit. But I’d estimate that they give you maybe just under an hour of extra time using your power.”

A soft smile cut into Shouto’s mouth, his eyes glinting down at you. “These are amazing.”

You fought down another blush, your stomach churning. He looked so pleased, it seemed wrong to ruin the moment. But now was the time. Now that you’d passed these on to him, you needed to come clean.

“You’ll have to tell me how they do next time you practice at quirk training,” you said, trying for an even tone.

An eyebrow raised and he considered you curiously. “You don’t want to be there to see for yourself?”

You bit your lip. Okay, you could do this. “That, uh, depends on how comfortable you are. I...have something else I wanted to tell you as well.”

His gaze sharpened and he carefully lowered the wrist braces. “Tell me what?” His tone was higher than normal, the concern easily detectable. “Is something wrong?”

You took a deep breath and tipped your face up to him, focusing on that grey and blue gaze. Now, you had to do it now.

“I have feelings for you,” you said firmly.

For a shocked moment, the air around you went quiet. Shouto stood frozen, his face unreadable. “What?”

Your stomach sank as you regarded him. He looked blank, almost politely blank the way he had been when Himari confessed to him all those months ago. It had been funny to you, then, but now on the receiving end of such an indecipherable look, your world shifted on its axis. Your heartbeat picked up.

“I’m sorry,” you said, trying not to let the misery you felt inject itself into your tone. “I didn’t mean for it to happen.”

A hand suddenly seized your wrist, and you jumped at how cold his fingers felt against your skin. Were you burning up in shame or was Shouto’s quirk going haywire?

“What are you talking about?” he asked. His eyes flicked over you wildly, like he was searching your face for some explanation.

You stared at your shoes, unable to look into his face anymore. “I know you wanted this to wrap up after graduation but I think we should end it sooner. I can’t pretend to date you when I actually like you so much. I want to be friends, after this, but I understand if it makes you uncomfortable that I feel this way.”

His hand went icy where he gripped you. “...Pretend to date me?”

A creeping feeling went up the back of your neck, and you forced your eyes up to his face. His expression startled you, a hard look that you had never seen before, something between anger and….was that confusion?

Why would he look at you like that? Unless…

A sick feeling settled over you. “Is that not….what this was?”

Shouto looked pained. “You think I’ve been pretending to like you, this whole time?”

A churning wave of bewilderment rushed over you with the violent force of a flash flood. Shouto….hadn’t been pretending? He hadn’t asked you out as a ruse? Had he come to the studio that day actually intending to ask you what he’d asked?

All his behavior, the flirting and the kissing, the dates he’d never needed to take you on, all of it suddenly snapped into place. And yet nothing felt like it was lining up. It couldn’t be that he had actually meant to date you for real. It couldn’t.

He stared down at you. “You think we’ve been pretending to date for months?”

You peeked up at him, heart beating in your throat. “You mean we haven’t?”

The temperature around you dropped. You stepped back from him a little, but Shouto’s hand tightened around your wrist, stopping you.

“What gave you that idea, exactly?” he said carefully, enunciating each word like it hurt him to choke them out.

“I thought...with Himari. You were trying to stop the confessions…” you said. “You were going to ask me something but then when she showed up...I thought…”

Something dark flashed through Shouto’s gaze. “What do you think I was going to ask you, then, before Himari showed up?”

“For a support item?” you guessed.

Shouto’s eyes closed. He looked like he’d just stubbed his toe and was trying not to swear. “I was going to ask you the same question.”

Your heartbeat picked up. Was he saying…?

“You mean, you meant to ask me out? You’ve actually liked me, this whole time?”

His eyes opened and he stared down at you in shock. “Do you think I just kiss anyone I don’t like?”

You froze. No, no you didn’t think he just kissed anyone. You’d wondered why he’d even started this whole scheme in the first place when he was so blunt and upfront about the things he liked, the things he would and would not do…

Sudden shame curled in your chest and you felt like the world’s biggest idiot.

Shouto had liked you the whole time, and he had been supremely obvious about it. And you’d ignored what had been in front of you like an olympic-level dumbfuck, taking home the gold medal in sheer stupidity.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you said miserably. “I just thought you wouldn’t--you couldn’t--it just doesn’t make sense.”

You tried to tug your arm back but he held tight.

“You thought we weren't--? But you never stopped me, any of those times I kissed you. Why didn’t you stop me?” he asked. “Why would you just let me--?”

“Because I’m in love with you!” you cried, throwing up your other hand. “I wanted you to kiss me, the whole time! Even if you didn’t want me, I wanted you. But then I felt like I was tricking you and it didn’t feel right! None of this makes sense but I wanted you so badly and now I’ve fucked everything up and I’m so stupid--”

With a sudden jerk, Shouto pulled you to him. Your mouth snapped shut as his arms went around you, and a hand at the back of your head pressed your face into his shoulder.

“I want you to listen,” he said quietly, firmly. You felt yourself release a shaky breath against his shoulder. “I don’t know how you got it in your head that I didn’t want you, but listen to me. I have liked you since the project we did together. I meant to ask you out, on Valentine’s Day. I’d had it in my head since the project wrapped up, that I wanted to know you more. So I came to ask you on a date. A real one.”

Your heart thumped in your chest. “A real one,” you echoed. “You really meant to ask me out?”

You felt him nod. “I really did.”

“And you really liked me, this whole time?”

Another nod. “I really like you, still.”

“Are you angry with me?” you asked carefully.

Another nod, and Shouto pulled away from you. “I’m furious,” he admitted, but his fingers slid down your arm to twine with yours, the way they had the day he’d asked you out. “Not just with you, but with myself. For not figuring it out, that you felt this way. No wonder you never initiated things. I was beginning to think you weren’t...interested.”

You blushed. “I literally couldn’t be more interested.”

To your surprise, Shouto’s expression slowly shifted from frustrated to something smug. “Is that so?”

Your toes curled. “Yes. I thought it was obvious that my brain shuts off every time you touch me.”

Shouto looked interested. “Does it now?”

You looked up at him. “Stop talking like that.”

He smirked and suddenly, he was a step closer. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?” you asked.

“I think your brain might need shutting off right now. It sounds like you’ve been overthinking something simple for months.”

Something hot flashed through you, and it had nothing to do with his quirk.

Shouto pressed closer, smiling as if he’d guessed the effect he had on you. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he was faster, silencing anything you might have said with a kiss. Predictably, your brain all but abandoned ship, and you were left with nothing but the base desire to get closer to him. Your arms went around his neck, pulling him nearer, and you felt him grin against your mouth.

“I think it’s time I prove to you once and for all how I actually feel about you,” Shouto said. He moved forward, walking you backwards until you felt your back bump into your work table. Hands went to your waist, hoisting you up onto the table, and the wrist braces you’d made him went clattering to the floor.

“Hey, I worked hard on those!” you managed, leaning forward as if to grab them but Shouto crowded into your space, taking your mouth again.

“I have full confidence in your abilities to repair them,” he said once he let you up for air. “You’re the smartest girl I know.”

The compliment warmed you, distracting you enough that it took a minute for you to register something brushing over your shirt. You realized dimly that Shouto was almost finished unbuttoning your uniform, and you blushed. You could feel the temperature difference in his hands and you shivered as his right one brushed over your bare skin.

“Going to finish what you started at quirk training?” you asked shakily. Long fingers brushed your shirt off at your shoulders.

“And more,” Shouto promised, following his fingers with his mouth, mapping a hot path over your collarbones and down, down.

You shuddered when his hands found their way beneath your bra as they had that night at quirk training, clever fingers pinching and rolling a nipple. Shouto silenced your startled moans with his mouth as he worked you over in his usual meticulous manner, learning very quickly what you liked and doing it over and over until it drove you crazy.

“Lock the door,” you finally gasped out when you couldn't stand it anymore, when you thought you might go crazy if you couldn't have more of him. “Lock the door or I will never live it down if someone walks in on what happens next.”

Shouto froze over you and there was an earsplitting crackling sound, almost like a whole wall of glass had shattered. You jumped, peering over his shoulder to find a huge wall of ice blocking the door--and covering most of the floor and the adjoining wall.

Shouto gave an embarrassed cough. “I...lost control for a second. That should work though.”

You laughed. “Seems like I’m not the only one who loses it a little bit.”

He smiled, and those talented fingers found their way beneath your skirt. You pulled him back into you for a kiss, sighing when he found what he was looking for. Then he spent a few minutes riling you up again, until all you could do was detach your mouth from his and complain.

“This is literally the best thing I have ever felt in my life, but I have spent months holding back because I thought you didn’t like me,” you said, finally getting a hand on his belt. “I need you to speed it up here because if you’re not inside me in the next minute, I’m going to die of frustration.”

Shouto's eyes widened and he jerked his hand back from you just in time for it to catch fire. You stared at him in shock, a laugh bubbling up in your mouth again. He looked embarrassed.

“Oh my god, we’ll talk about this later,” you announced, busying yourself with his belt again and helping him divest himself of his pants. “I can’t wait to tell everyone how literally hot for me my boyfriend is.”

He huffed a laugh, and that seemed to calm him enough to help put the flame out. Then he was moving back over you, finally, finally pressing into you where you’d wanted him for months. You let out an embarrassing noise and clung to him, unable to do anything but gasp and writhe underneath him as he set a steady pace.

“I can’t believe you didn’t think I was absolutely crazy for you,” he said, bearing you down to the table and emphasizing his point with a particularly hard thrust. “You were all that I could think of, after that project.”

You didn’t trust yourself to speak, incapable of doing anything but grasping him tighter and working your hips desperately against him.

He seemed to get the point, though, smirking and driving into you harder, until you couldn’t remember any words other than yes and Shouto and please. Then those clever fingers found your clit again and you couldn’t remember anything at all, coming apart into pieces around him.

Shouto followed you quickly, jerking into you with a series of short thrusts before collapsing over you, his weight pressing you into your work table. He pressed a kiss to your cheek, so unbearably sweet in contrast to what you’d just done, and you smiled.

“I’m gonna have to sanitize the fuck out of this table. My prayers are with the next student who gets assigned this thing.”

Shouto chuckled, a hand brushing through your hair. You could feel his heartbeat pounding steadily in his chest where it was pressed against yours, and the temperature in both sides of his body, so notably different and so easy to detect when he was pressed as close as he was.

“Maybe later,” he said, and you raised an eyebrow in question.

“After I’ve proved to you how I feel about you,” he clarified.

This left you with more questions. “You just did. I’m completely clear on that now.”

But Shouto just smiled that wry smile, a familiar glint entering his eye. “Oh, you think that’s all I feel about you?”

Something like a thrill went up your spine at the way he was looking at you. “....Is it not?”

Shouto moved off of you, kissing a path back down your chest. A hand gripped your leg, pulling it over one shoulder as he kissed his way even further.

“I have several months to make up for,” he said, and that was the last warning you had before he pounced. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[sokkascroptop]

traitor. (sokka x f!reader) pt 16

part 1 | part 15 | part 17

TW: blood & death. PLEASE heed these warnings

A/N: lmao you guys thought that last chapter was angsty?  

Everything had gone back to normal the next morning; it was like nothing had changed. Y/N didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand she was grateful that they were able to go about their days like they always had, on the other hand she wished that they had achieved something more. If only Y/N could have opened her damn mouth. At which point she had to remind herself that there’s a very large possibility that Sokka liked Suki which sent her head spiraling into a completely different and unwanted direction that she avoided thinking about at all costs. What did it mean for her to like two people that might like each other? Honestly, Y/N had never realized her life was so complicated. In fact, Y/N had almost convinced herself their midnight confessions were a dream until a week later when they were flying on Appa and Sokka leaned close to her. 

“Do you think we’ll camp by a river we can skip rocks at?”

Y/N cocked one eyebrow. Sokka already knew the answer. He didn’t need her to tell him they always camped near water. “I hope so,” she replied.

The wind was howling in their ears enough that Y/N didn’t think anyone would hear but Toph scoffed from her place near the edge of the saddle. “When do you guys go out and skip rocks?”

At the sound of Toph’s voice, Aang and Katara turned to look at them. 

“Uhhh…” Sokka scratched the back of his neck nervously. 

“Sometimes when we’re not sparring we do fun things!” Y/N said defensively.

“What other fun things do you get up to?” Toph’s voice was innocent, but her face was mischievous. She knew exactly what she was asking. Y/N could hear Aang snicker from Appa’s head. 

Y/N noticed Sokka scooted farther away from her in the saddle, keeping a very appropriate distance between the two of them, his cheeks were a fiery red. She didn’t give Toph the satisfaction of an answer. Mostly because she didn’t even know what to say back. Hahah, Toph, I wish!! Y/N groaned internally at the thought. 

Y/N caught Katara’s eye from the front of the saddle. The girl narrowed her eyes at Y/N. Y/N blinked and looked towards the clouds, when she looked back Katara was still staring at her. She flicked her eyes between Sokka and Y/N in wordless conversation. You two? 

Y/N furrowed her brow, glancing at Sokka and then returning to Katara. Y/N shook her head violently. No way! 

Katara raised a solitary eyebrow and smiled. Her thoughts were clear, I don’t believe it. 

If the embarrassment of a one-sided crush wasn’t enough, now if Katara got a hold of Sokka, Y/N would get to hear him adamantly deny liking her. Y/N slid down in the saddle until her head rested on the edge. Oh endless sleep, take me now! She begged the spirits. None of them ever got back to her. 

“You guys, it’s your turn to go to town to get food.” Y/N turned around from where she was setting up her sleeping bag to look at Katara.

“Who’s ‘you guys’?” She asked.

“You and Sokka.” Aang floated a moonpeach towards Momo who snatched it out of the air and tore into it. 

Y/N groaned and flopped down on her blankets. She looked towards the sky. There was probably a few hours before sunset. “But it’ll be dark by the time we get back,” She pouted. 

“Then I guess we just won’t eat tonight,” Toph snarked. She was laying back on the bare dirt with one leg crossed over the other. Y/N kicked out her leg at Toph’s ankle making her legs fall to the ground. Toph waved a finger and a rock shot up from under Y/N’s sleeping bag, knocking her in the head. 

Y/N sucked in a sharp inhale. “Toph, I don’t care if you’re twelve and blind, I’ll still punch you in the face.”

“Do it.” Toph dared. 

A bag of coins was dropped next to Y/N on the ground before she could get up and threaten Toph properly. Katara stood above her with her hands on her hips. “Maybe the next time you mouth off,” Y/N said as she looked at Katara with a sweet grin.

She grabbed her sword and the money and at the last minute leaned over and flicked Toph on the forehead. She ran away quickly only to be tripped by a stone that wasn’t there a second before hand. 

Y/N sprawled on the ground. She lifted her head just enough to yell, “Aang, it’s not FUNNY!” 

She rolled to her feet and shot a glare back at the others who were trying to contain their laughter and went off to find Sokka who was collecting firewood. She caught him just as he was heading out of the small strip of woods they were near. 

Her eyes immediately bounced down to look at his bare arms and his bulging bicep. Y/N looked away quickly and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hey, we’re on shopping duty.” She lifted the pouch of coins and jingled it.

“Oh. Okay, here take some.” Sokka unceremoniously dumped half of the logs he was carrying into her arms, ignoring her protests. “We’ll drop that off at camp first and then leave.”

Y/N hummed. “I don’t think I wanna go back. I pissed Toph off and I think she’s got a rock for me to stub my toe on ready and waiting.” Y/N pointed at her already scraped knee. 

Sokka chuckled. “We have to get Appa anyways, come on. I’ll protect you.” He wiggled his eyebrows. 

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. Of course, she knew Sokka was just joking. “My hero,” she said sarcastically. 

---

Y/N hefted the basket in her arms and peered over the top to read the list in her hands. “Do we have everything?”

Sokka looked into her basket and then into his. “I think so. Let’s go back, it’s getting dark.” He was right; the sky was red with fading light. If they wanted to make it back to Appa before the sun set completely, they’d have to hurry. 

Y/N knew the moment they left the streets of that town something was bound to go wrong. That niggling intuition of hers, the one that made her ears ring and the hair on her neck to stand up, was at full attention. They’d reached the woods. Trees lined a small trail and up a good sized hill was Appa waiting for them in a cave. 

Y/N heard a stick snap behind her, but when she whipped her head around there was nothing there.

“What’s up?” Sokka turned his head to join her, giving her a confused glance as he swung his head around. 

“Uh, nothing. I think.” Y/N shook her head and faced forward again. She quickened her pace a touch and Sokka easily caught up with her. Y/N kept her ears pricked for the slightest of sounds around them. She worked to drown out the regular noises like the cicada-bats and the occasional badger-frog and listen for the more unusual sounds; the breaking of twigs under feet, swords being pulled from their sheaths, bowstrings being pulled back…

Then she heard it, the unmistakable sound of a heavy boot on packed dirt. Y/N turned to face them and threw her basket to the side. Damn, the dumplings and the fruit, she’d pay Katara back personally if she and Sokka didn’t die. 

“Sokka, we have a slight problem,” Y/N warned. In front of her was a short man. She could see the sword at his waist but his face was hidden by a broad brimmed hat. Only then did she realize she had seen the same man in the market. She recognized the hat from the stand where they got the fish and the stand where they had bought vegetables for Aang. 

Sokka’s back bumped into hers. “We got a slight problem from this direction too, Princess.” 

Y/N didn’t even spare a glance over Sokka’s shoulder. “Two on two wouldn’t have been so bad if you’d remembered to bring your sword,” Y/N chastised quietly. 

Sokka grumbled something intelligible and Y/N drew her sword. “Who are you? What do you want?” She shouted at the man in front of her. Slowly, Sokka began to shift around to her right side. She saw why, the man in front of them was circling the two of them. He only stopped once he reached his companion. 

“I think it’s obvious what we’re here for,” the first one said. 

Y/N sneered. “Not really. You saw us at the market, we spent almost all of our money on food. If you wanted to rob us you should have done it then.”

“They were following us?” Sokka elbowed her in the side.

“Shut up,” Y/N growled. 

“We’re here for the girl who betrayed her nation.”

---

Y/N stopped breathing. They’d found her. They’d caught her. Even with traveling to a new place everyday and the fancy clothes and the cut hair, someone still recognized her. Y/N could feel herself starting to spiral. She knew this would happen, she told them this would happen...

It was taking too long for her to say something, so Sokka stepped in. “We don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The second man chuckled at them. 

“She does.” The first man had drawn his sword and pointed it at Y/N who snapped her jaw shut. “You think with that new haircut that I wouldn’t recognize you? I’d know those pretty eyes of yours anywhere.”

Y/N’s breathing quickened and a shudder rolled through her body. Who was behind the shadow of that hat? Who knew her face so well? But that wasn’t the only thought running through her mind. She was racing to think of a solution to the problem at hand. It was one on two. She had to get Sokka out of there. He wouldn’t do anything but keep her distracted. She was far too invested in his life for him to stick around. 

Y/N shoved Sokka away from her. “Go! Run and get Appa. Get the others!”

Sokka didn’t stop to question her and Y/N was oh so grateful. 

---

She went for the second man who had yet to pull a weapon. She understood why he hadn’t pulled a weapon when she got within ten feet of him and a knife sliced through the slide of her skirt, ripping the material. Lovely, she thought. A knife thrower like Mai.

The knives were thrown so hard they were almost invisible and she used all her concentration to block them and knock them down. When she got close enough, he pulled a dagger to fight her off with but he was fat and much too slow to be fighting sword against dagger. Her blade pushed cleanly through his abdomen. He fell heavily to the ground, a pool of blood pushing out from underneath him. 

Y/N smacked a hand over her mouth and willed herself not to throw up even as bile built up in the back of her throat. 

“Nicely done,” the other man said. 

Y/N gasped and let out a shuddering breath. Why was he just standing there, watching her kill his friend? 

He lifted off his hat and threw it to the side and the breath was knocked out of her all over again. “Kaito.”

---

Kaito flipped the blade over in his hand as he walked closer to her. Y/N walked backwards until she could no more. “You’re sticking to the shorter attacks like I suggested. That’s good.”

“W–why did you let me kill him!” she screamed. It had been easy. Kaito didn’t even try to help.

Kaito shrugged and looked at his dead companion. “I wanted the reward money for myself. He won’t mind.”

Kaito’s first blow nearly knocked her to her knees and she realized stupidly that this was the real deal. This wasn’t a sparring match on the ship a month ago where Kaito went easy on her; this was the two of them fighting for their lives. This was the match he had patiently explained to her, what seemed like a lifetime ago. She had to win. She could not let the others come back to her dead body in the woods. She wouldn’t make Sokka have to see that. Not after what he told her a week ago. She was not going to let his biggest fear come true. 

---

Blow by blow they were evenly matched. Y/N fighting for her life, Kaito for his honor. He talked while they fought, anything to distract her or throw her off so he could get a stab in. “We’ve been following you for a while. Heard about a little Fire Nation girl who blew up a factory. I knew that’d be you.”

“That was The Painted Lady,” Y/N grumbled as she blocked a swift uppercut. Y/N’s energy was fading fast. She felt like she was being drained by the second. She was sweating, her heart was pounding, her vision blurred with adrenaline. 

She side-stepped and allowed his sword to slice the flesh of her left arm so she could stab at his bum leg. Kaito screamed and fell, clutching his knee. Y/N kicked his sword away in a cloud of dust. She held her sword out threateningly, already beginning to back up to make a run for it. “You aren’t going to keep following us.”

Kaito chuckled darkly. “I’m never going to stop hunting you down. No one will. I’m a soldier and I follow my orders. The penalty for treason is death, and that’s what a traitor like you deserves. You don’t have long anyways,” He smirked.

Y/N saw red. Those words echoed in her head over and over. Traitor. That was her label for choosing the side of the light, the side that believed in harmony and peace. Well then, let it be. 

Kaito slumped face first into the dirt, his head lolling at an unnatural angle. Y/N’s sword was tipped with fresh blood. 

Y/N bent to retrieve his sword from the ground when a stitch tore through her side. It felt like a pulled muscle but that was not a pulled muscle when she looked down; that was a knife in her side. So that’s what Kaito meant by ‘she didn’t have long’. 

---

Y/N let out a hysterical laugh as she pulled the knife out. Blood began to seep out quickly and she vaguely wondered if she should have done that. It didn’t hurt but–woah–that was a lot of blood. The knife slipped from her fingers to the ground. That guy must have had better aim than she thought. 

---

Y/N blinked and Sokka was shaking her shoulders. Where did he come from? His mouth was forming words that Y/N could not hear.

“What?” She asked loudly. That ringing in her ears was loud.

“I was yelling at you not to pull it out!” 

“Oh.”

Sokka grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look directly at him. “Focus! Are you okay?!” 

Y/N smiled. His eyes were such a pretty blue. Like the deep ocean or the eastern sky when the sun was setting or– “I am now.”

“Yeah, okay.” Sokka peeled her fingers away from her sword and sheathed it. He wrapped her arm around his shoulder and slipped his around her waist. Y/N didn’t know why, she didn’t feel like she needed help walking. 

---

That fuzzy-brained, painless period didn’t last long. 

“Sokka,” Y/N sobbed. She grabbed onto a tree and would have slid down to her knees if Sokka hadn’t been there to catch her. Her other hand clutched her side. “I can’t–I can’t go any further.” She gasped as a sharp pain shot through her side. Every time she breathed it was worse and she was hyperventilating. She squeezed her eyes shut and a few tears leaked out. When she opened her eyes, Sokka was kneeling beside her with a very uncharacteristic serious look on his face. Y/N could have laughed if she wasn’t in so much pain. 

“Just a little farther. We have to get back to Katara.” He shook his head. “Giving up is not an option.”

“Okay, okay.” Y/N scrubbed her face. As she looked to him her chin began to wobble with an impending rush of tears. “I’m scared,” she murmured. It was not something she would normally admit but this was anything but a normal moment. Kaito’s words from the ship echoed in her mind: she had never actually had to face her own death before and now she was. 

“Me too.” Sokka’s face was stoic, but she could hear the shaking of his voice. She held out her hand that wasn’t trying to stop blood from gushing out of her side and Sokka hauled her to her feet. 

---

Y/N was pretty sure in the last one hundred yards it took to get to Appa, Sokka and Y/N tripped over every single root in that part of the forest. It was pitch black, their way only lit by the faint lines of the moon through the tree branches. 

Y/N was relying more and more on Sokka’s strength to get her back to Appa; he was half-carrying her and they were both breathing heavily. 

Appa grunted when they reached him. Y/N didn’t know the context of said grunt. Was he mad that it took them so long? Was he worried because he could smell blood? She was thinking about asking Aang if he could tell what Appa meant by the certain noises he made when Sokka snapped her out of her thoughts. 

“Y/N!” He said sharply. She looked up at him from where she was standing. When did he climb up to the saddle? Y/N started climbing up after him and Sokka reached down to help her. Her arms felt like they weighed a thousand pounds and under any other circumstances her face might have flushed pink if Sokka had grabbed the back of her thigh like he just did to haul her in. She collapsed onto her back, staring at the stars. 

Y/N was pretty sure that Sokka was talking to her but his voice was distorted like she was underwater. Every blink of her eyes lasted longer until she didn’t have the energy to open them anymore. 

Her last thought before fading to black was “Who’s Yue?”

---

Y/N woke up sweating. She automatically began kicking the blankets off, anything to get the heat away from her; she felt like she was suffocating. The motion set off a familiar pain in her left side that left her gasping for air. Finally, after she threw the last fur off, she stubbornly pulled herself to a sitting position. She looked around her. She didn’t remember falling asleep in a tent. Wait, was this Sokka’s tent?!

Y/N pressed a hand against her side, the pressure made it feel better and worse, and crawled to the tent opening. She pulled back one of the flaps just as someone was barreling in.

“Sokka?

“Y/N?”

“I thought I heard you wake up!” he exclaimed, pulling her in for a tight hug. 

Y/N wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. Her head was throbbing worse than the first time she drank rice wine. “What happened?”

Sokka ignored the question and his arms tightened around her. “How do you feel?”

“I’m...okay.” Pieces of the night before were beginning to flood back. Kaito and knives. “I am so sorry for scaring you like that.” 

Y/N pulled back from their hug. Their faces were inches apart. She could feel the heat of Sokka’s breath on her cheek. Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips and then back up to his eyes. Slowly, she backed away from him, but Sokka had other ideas. He grasped her face with both hands pressed his lips against hers. Y/N felt her stomach drop and she squeezed her eyes shut. Maybe she was dreaming. 

He pulled back sooner than Y/N would have liked, but left his hands on her cheeks, tracing over her cheekbone lightly with his thumb. There was a dazed expression on his face. 

He immediately jerked his hands away and clasped them in his lap when he noticed her widened eyes. “I’m so sorry. Spirits! I should have asked! I just couldn’t–last night, I couldn’t leave you! I got half way back to Appa and turned around! You almost died and I almost didn’t get to tell you I liked you.” Sokka ran a hand down his face. “Well, I guess I’m telling you now.”

Y/N sat there in stunned silence. Sokka liked her. Sokka liked her. Not anyone else. Y/N was starting to wonder if she was having some type of vivid hallucination from blood loss. She studied Sokka’s face which looked like he wanted to evaporate on the spot. 

“I’ll just go get the others and tell them you’re awake–” Sokka had started to stand up to leave but Y/N grabbed his hand and pulled him back down. She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. 

“I like you too, Sokka,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

---

A/N: Did you really think we were going to get out of this with no ‘almost dying’ action?

Taglist: @myexgirlfriendisthemoon​ @reclusive-chicken-nugget​ @astroninaaa​ @aangsupremacy​ @beifongsss​ @crownofcryptids​ @welovediaaxx​ @littlefluu​ @lozzybowe​ @thebluelcdy​ @ohjustlookalive @sugarmoongey​ @fanficdepot​ @teenbiology​ @13-09-01​ @riespage​ @davnwillcome​ @naanlianid​ @creation-magician​ @lunariasilver​ @vintagerose1014516 @bcifcng​ @rockinearthbending-marauders​ @francesciak​ @thia-aep​ @aphrcditeee​ @milk-n-cheese​ @solarsuki​@sendnuwudes @humbleseame​ @my--shitty--art​ @lovingcupcake51002​ @loganrwebb​ @celia-not-cecilia​ @treestarrrrrrrr​ @p--e--a--c--h--e--s​ @velveteencurls​ @izzieserra​ @oddment-nitwit-blubber-tweak @salsasadd​ @nataliahaslosthershit​ @awkwardnesshabitat​ @lanie103​ @emogril​ @im-the-galactic-starfish​ @charlotteisabella​ @alienmotel​ @smarshere​ @crxsshatcht @starxtt @sugamonster22​ @natsbelova​ @mellisophilia​ @calumsfringe​ @whatsuphoesandbros​ @samsmultifandomblogs​ @ask-kfc-siblings @i-love-superhero​ @justasukisimp​ @grouchiest-hufflepuff​ @zukostan221 @feverish-dove​ 

[fenristheorem]

hello, if your askbox is still open could i ask leiftan (from the origins, i dont like the new wish washed one) with a s/o who doesnt feel pain?

Hello! Yes, my askbox is still open, both when you requested and at the time of posting this!

~Under the cut~

Origins Leiftan with an S/O who doesn’t feel pain:

Oh dear... you remember how he basically obsessed over her much of the time right? How he basically brought her back from death and went as far as saving her life by giving her half of his own life force/energy?

Let me tell you; if he’s willing do to that, then I doubt there’s anything he won’t do for her - even if it’s a bit... overprotective and obsessive.

Now pain is a biological trait that’s typically used for the body to relay that something is wrong. It’s - in a way - a part of the fight or flight response. It’s meant for self-preservation. Usually the pain response is turned off only when fight or flight kicks in so the body can get out of this threatening situation without being burdened by the pain; it needs to focus on getting out of the situation now and will worry about pain later. Pain alerts the body that there is an issue that needs to be fixed, so when someone is born, or at some point loses the ability to feel pain, there can be a lot of issues that can spark from this. Someone may accidentally burn themself without knowing, or break a bone, or have a relatively severe injury, and they wouldn’t know because their body wouldn’t be able to tell them through the pain response.

Leiftan knows this; he’s talked with Ewelein about this as soon as it was recognized that there was something odd about her pain response. Now all Leiftan does sometimes is hover over her making sure she’s not accidentally subjecting herself to anything harmful. He’ll make a point to keep an extra eye out for anything she could accidentally burn or generally hurt herself on. This includes battles, as well. Sure; he can’t keep her from fighting, but there’s no way she’s not seeing Ewelein immediately after - just in case she was internally injured and needs to be taken care of.

If she protests he’ll pick her up into his arms and carry her to the nurse himself. He doesn’t want his beloved angel to suffer complications from something that could have been easily avoided.

Lance becomes a major issue; he keeps trying to hurt her - and succeeding - and Guardienne doesn’t know if she’s wounded from those encounters or not. Leiftan is sure to make his opinions known about that... rather violently. That one fight they had at the Fenghuang Temple after Lance and his mercenaries raided the place? That wasn’t the last fight between the two. Unfortunately Lance is quite elusive, though; it’s hard to catch him to show him a piece of mind, but Leiftan makes due with whatever trouble he can inflict on the dragon.

Leiftan nearly pain-proofs his room. He’ll make a point to move furniture and decoratives around that could possibly wound her without their knowing, and he gives her a good basic check whenever she accidentally stubs her toe or something a bit too hard on a surface.

It seems very oppressive and overprotective in some ways, but Leiftan only means the best for her. He loves her dearly - although it seems like infatuation sometimes - and wants to protect her, especially knowing how she could be in more danger from this due to unseen injuries. He makes sure to back off a bit if she’s irritated at all from his hovering, but he’ll do his guarding from a distance then. It’s not uncommon for her to trip on something and to suddenly be in his arms, even though she was about to recover her balance to keep from falling...

He’s very protective, but doesn’t seek to make her uncomfortable. He believes the best way to approach this situation is to eliminate any threats before they appear - and he does exactly that - but it’s not always possible. Even if he can’t directly protect her or warn her of something (either due to the fact that she’s told him to relax a bit, or if it’s a sudden action he couldn’t have foreseen), he’ll still do what he can to protect her. In the odd case where she is injured, she’s immediately seen to by Ewelein. Leiftan just wants to make sure she’ll be alright; she’s his angel, and the last thing he wants is to see her genuinely hurt.

This is a bit short but that’s all I could think of that’s directly effected by her inability to feel pain. I don’t usually write Leiftan, so I apologize if he’s a bit out of character, but I hope you like this regardless!

Have a request? Ask them here!

But first, please read the rules list for asks!

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

Sweet Pea//don't know if you love me or you want me dead

Request: I dunno if this'll go through or not but can i request a Sweet Pea/reader based on this text post, I can't find the original version lol 

hey! sweet pea imagine based off this ^. originally posted by @riverdalecentral​, so thank you! its enemies to lovers!! which is a trope that i adore! (side note, if you ever see anything to do with enemies to lovers you can 100% just send it to me with literally no explanation and i absolutely will not mind). title is from ‘teeth’ by 5sos! i had so much fun writing this! i hope you all enjoy it! i also hope you’re all having a lovely day/night!

No matter where you are in the world, you never want to be in a forest at night. But if you live in Riverdale, thats just a given. Nobody in their right minds goes into Fox Forest at midnight, however, spending five minutes with Sweet Pea can make anyone go insane. And so here you are, trekking through the woods like you’re in some sort of shitty horror film. 

“I can’t believe Jones has got us running around town like we’re in fucking Scooby Doo.” Sweet Pea huffs as the two of you walk through the trees. You let go of the branch you’re holding, and it narrowly avoids hitting Sweet Pea. You can feel the glare you’re getting and a small smirk twitches at your lips. 

You and Sweet Pea have a complicated relationship to say the least. You’ve both been part of the serpents for the same amount of time. (You were actually initiated 5 minutes before him but he doesn’t like to admit that). You have grown up in the same trailer park, five trailers from each other and you share the same friends. But there’s just something about him that makes you want to stick pins in your eyes. And there’s something about you, that makes him want to repeatedly stub his toe every single minute of his life, rather than spend five minutes with you. So yeah, its complicated. 

There’s been so much speculation around why you two hate each other. Fangs says its because you’re both too stubborn to actually have a proper conversation (whatever Fogarty). Toni says its because you secretly like each other (gross), and there was once a theory that it was because you had secretly dated and then broke up (again, you would rather stick pins in your eyes). 

You just hated each other. That was it. 

Although, despite the fact that spending five minutes in the same room with him makes you nauseous, he is kind of attractive. If you’re into the whole ‘bad boy, gang member, secretly soft at heart’ thing. Not that you’d ever admit that to anyone. 

“You’re Shaggy!” “You’re Scooby.” You both say at the same time making your expression mirror his. You both glare at each other before reluctantly turning away and continuing to walk.

“If you’re implying that I’m lesser because I’m the dog...1. You’re an idiot. Everybody loves dogs and Scooby Doo is evidence of that. And 2. Scooby Doo is the main character. The whole franchise is named after him, making him the lead. He even has a snack named after him. Its Scooby’s world and we’re just living in it.” 

“What. The. Fuck.” He stops and you roll your eyes, turning around to look at him. 

“You know I’m right...Shaggy.” You shine your torch in his eyes and he squints before flipping you off.

“How am I Shaggy?” 

“You give of major stoner vibes, you’re always eating and I never see you wear anything other than a dark t-shirt, black jeans and your serpent jacket.” You look him up and down and he huffs in response, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“They all wear the same outfits...they’re cartoons.” 

“True.” You nod. “But the other two are right. Plus, you’d be nothing without me.”

“I’d be a lot happier without you.” He replies and you send him a sarcastic smile back. He returns it and the two of you continue through the woods, your torches casting a variation of shadows against the tall trees. Its less like Scooby Doo and more like Blair Witch. And despite your company being Sweet Pea, you’d rather him than nobody.

You suddenly get the feeling your being watched, and the intensity of it makes you stop in your tracks, Sweet Pea soon catches up to you, stopping beside you and also looking around. 

“What is it? Did you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror?” He teases and even though you’re absolutely terrified, you still find it in yourself to punch him in the arm. 

“We’re in the middle of a forest. Where would I find a mirror?” 

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’ve found some weird things in the woods. I once found a pile of bones, a belt and a half eaten apple.” 

“I-What?” You look up at him and he shrugs casually. 

“To this day I have no idea why they were there. Although, the belt does look pretty good on.” 

“Hm-Wait what?” You glance at his belt, the silver reflecting off the rays of your torch and he quickly looks away. 

“Nothing.” 

“What exactly are we looking for?” You ask, changing the subject. 

“I dunno. Jughead just said ‘anything strange’.” 

“In Riverdale? Yeah, that’ll be easy.” You huff before quickly pointing your torch to the side of you. Sweet Pea joins, the two of you silently listening and watching (and praying) that its just an owl. After a minute you both continue walking, this time in silence and you’re sure you’ve huddle a little closer to each other, but neither of you seem to mind. 

Twigs snap underneath your shoes and a gust of wind makes the trees rustle around you. It makes you shiver, and you swear Sweet Pea pauses for just a second to look around. The whole atmosphere makes you feel suddenly claustrophobic, despite being in the great outdoors, and right now you’re unsure who you hate more, Sweet Pea...or Jughead.

“What did he mean by strange?” You whisper and look around again. 

“I don’t know. Anything that could explain the weird going ons at his preppy new school.” 

“Why would that have anything to do with the woods. They’re in the opposite direction of each other.” 

“Ask Jones.” He holds his hands up defensively making you huff loudly. Your barely make it two steps before freezing again, Sweet Pea grunts as he walks into you but you don’t acknowledge him, too busy trying to decipher whether the noise you heard was a bird or a murderer. 

“Did you hear that?” 

“What!?” He looks around quickly and somehow, the two of you end up closer together than you were before. “Y/n, I swear to god, if you’re fucking with me, I will actually kill you.” 

“Surprisingly, you don’t sound that threatening when I can feel you literally shaking beside me.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Why did Jones even pair us together. You’re about as much use as a wet sock.” You mutter angrily, but you cut yourself off when you see a shadow move out of the corner of your eye. Before you can stop yourself you’re reaching out for Sweet Pea, grabbing his arm and squeezing. “Sweet Pea?” 

“Yep?” His doesn’t even hide the fear in his voice, and if you were in any other situation, you would have definitely made fun of him. 

“Did you see that?” 

“...yep.” He nods. “Do you think we should investigate?” 

“Do you think we should investigate?” You mock. “Its like you want to get murdered.” 

“A lot of people wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

“Getting murdered, or you specifically getting murdered.” 

“Either, or.” He shrugs. 

“I think at least a few people would miss you.” You reply and a smirk appears on his face. 

“Am I dead? Have I already been murdered? Are you actually being nice to me?” 

“We can find out if people would miss you if you want.” You smile sarcastically at him and he shoves you lightly. For a second, the two of you forget where you are and what you’re supposed to be doing. It feels light, even if you are being rude to each other, and you swear, for a split second, you feel yourself enjoying each others company. But of course, he ruins it. 

“No thanks. I’m happy knowing that you’d miss me.” 

“I never said tha-” He only looks away for a few seconds. He saw something move and he thought he’d check it out. But in the time that he turns around, that he pulls his eyes away from watching your lips as they say whatever sarcastic comment you’d come up with, you vanish. Your sentence being cut off. 

He swears he’s never moved faster. Instantly he turns back around, shining the torch in every direction he can. It suddenly feels darker and the only thing he can hear is his heart beating in his throat. “Y/n?” It starts off as a whisper, unsure of what to do. But when you don’t answer, he manages to find his voice. “Where did you go? Y/n? I would very much like to hear your annoying voice.” His eyes close, despite every fibre of his body screaming at him not too. He’s seen horror films, he knows he shouldn’t close his eyes, but he needs to wish and prayer and do anything he can to find you. 

“...sweet pea?” Your voice is quiet and trembling, but he hears it and his eyes snap open, frantically looking around. 

“Y/-” Your name dies in his throat once he sees you, and he can’t speak anymore. 

For as long as Sweet Pea can remember, he’s been day dreaming about you getting into traumatic accidents. There’s a running competition between the two of you, over who can come up with the most gruesome and violent end for the other.  Unfortunately he is winning due to a very traumatizing death that he said was inspired by both Saw and Final Destination. 

Right now though, your actual life is in threat and he has never wanted anything less in his life. 

A blonde, creepy looking boy around the same age as both of you holds you tight to him, one arm over your chest while the other holds a knife to your throat. There’s a dark haired girl stood beside him, also holding a knife, and even though she doesn’t look as intimidating as the blonde, it does nothing to make Sweet Pea feel better. 

“Wow, Jones was too scared to find us himself he sent his lackeys to do his dirty work.” 

“Let her go...please.” His voice breaks and he takes a careful step towards you. His hands already reaching into his pocket, desperately searching for his knife and brass knuckles, but he stops when he makes eye contact with the boy. 

“And we are not his lackeys.” You protest, despite the knife digging into your skin further, and the hold on you becoming tighter. 

Whatever Sweet Pea was feeling, whether it was fear, vulnerability or something in between completely disappears. And his gaze shifts from the man holding you, to you yourself, the same annoyed expression on his face. “Maybe focus on the knife being held to your throat, and then argue about what we are to Jughead.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You roll your eyes. 

“Oh sorry for trying to save your life.” 

“Save my life? You couldn’t even sav-” 

“Is this a bad time? Do you want us to come back and kill you later orrr?” The girl asks sarcastically as she looks between you and Sweet Pea. Both of you look at each other before looking at the floor. 

“Continue.” You grumble and you feel the knife slice into your skin. A small cry escapes your lips and Sweet Pea looks up quickly. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so frightened, and you definitely didn’t think you’d be on the receiving end of such a look, but there’s something about it that stirs something inside of you, in spite of the very inappropriate moment.

“Okay.” She says, twirling the knife in-between her fingers. “We can either do this the easy way, or the even easier way. We’re going to make it look like a fight that went wrong. And then we’ll stumble out of the woods, covered in blood, crying, saying that it was self defense.” She smiles wickedly. 

“Even better idea, we don’t even have to be here. We could make it look like a fight between two gang members.” 

“Hmmm.” You and Sweet Pea say at the same time. Both of you know it’s very rare that Serpents kill each other, so that wouldn’t work, but as soon as you look at each other after the collective thought, do you realize the mistake you made. Never say ‘hmm’ when faced with death. 

“Aww, thanks for helping us plan your death.” The boy says. “So no to the fight between gang members. What about a fight between two lovers.” 

“Ew.” You mutter. 

“Gross.” Sweet Pea adds. 

“I’d rather just die.” You shrug and Sweet Pea sends you a look. 

“Y/n.” He sighs. 

“Fine, we’ll just go with the fight.” The boy huffs, moving the knife to the other side of your neck and digging it in. Blood trickles down your chest making both you and Sweet Pea wince. 

“You want to fight?” Your force the words out of your mouth and you can feel the look Sweet Pea is giving you. “Come on then, fight me.” The two of them exchange glances, they clearly weren’t expecting an answer from you. Whoever sent them to do this, definitely underestimated how stubborn serpents are, so maybe Fangs was right about you and Sweet Pea, maybe you were both too stubborn to get along. 

The ten seconds that they’re distracted, gives you and Sweet Pea a chance to look at each other. A silent conversation happens between the two of you and even though you’re not entirely sure of what he’s saying, you just hope you got the basic idea and so you send him a nod. 

While they’re distracted, Sweet Pea reaches into his pocket, slowly pulling his knife out, and as soon as they look back, you start your plan. Quickly you kick the guy as hard as you can in the shin making him fall and push you away from him, dropping the knife as he does. You swiftly pick it up and Sweet Pea uses the distraction to grab the girl, pressing his own knife against her neck. 

You stand a few feet away from them, holding your own knife and the one you stole out in front of you. 

“Touch her if you never want to see the light of day again.” He whispers in the girls ear and he sends a look to her weird friend that makes him stop in his tracks. 

“Now.” You smile. “Do you want to do this the easy way, or the hard way?” 

----

Dawn breaks as you both stumble out the forest. You’re covered in cuts and bruises, but thankfully you’ve stopped bleeding so you’ll take that as a win. Usually you enjoy beating up rich kids, its one of the few things you and Sweet Pea can bond over, but right now you just want to go home. 

They may have been preppy, but they definitely knew what they were doing. And they’d managed to escape, slipping away from you and through the trees. They may have gotten away, but they were barley in one piece, and so you figured that would be enough to bide Jughead some time with whatever he was planning. 

There’s a togetherness about fighting. For a while you, both you and Sweet Pea were sure you were going to die in there, and so now that you’re walking through the sleepy streets of the town, there’s a part of you thats glad the other made it out. 

They say fighting changes you. It awakens something in you. Usually that something is hate or anger, but both of you already have enough of that. 

No, this is something else. 

Respect for the other? Or maybe fondness? Whatever it is, its new and it swirls around the both of you, leaving you unsure of how to act. So you walk to Jughead’s house in silence, your arms brushing gently against each other every so often. 

Jughead’s house is quiet as the two of you walk through the front door. The Jones/Cooper house is full, serpents mill about the place, with either food or drinks in their hands. And Jughead is in the middle of them, stood right in the centre of the living room. It seems you and Sweet Pea weren’t the only people sent to their deaths last night. 

Everyone looks surprised as you walk into the living room. They probably expected at least one of you to be dead, whether that was because of something is the woods, or one of you, its surprising to see you two alive, with just a few cuts and bruises. 

“Did you guys find anything weird.” 

“Oh, you know. The usual.” You shrug. Jughead nods, deciding to talk to you about it in private later on. And so he starts talking to the group again, you and Sweet Pea practically blending into the background. But there’s a definite shift in atmosphere. 

Usually when you and Sweet Pea are in a room together there’s tension, and everybody is aware of it. But this time, its different. It feels light, despite the tense subject being discussed. Everyone can feel the change, but nobody can figure out what it is. 

Only you and Sweet Pea know what has changed. And as he squeezes your hand in his, a soft smile appearing on his face as he looks at you, you have a feeling a lot more things are going to change. Some of them may not be for the good, it seems like there’s a lot more to be uncovered in Riverdale, but one things for sure, you’re glad Sweet Pea is by your side for it.

[underworld-of-imagines]

Darkness - Spencer Reid

Prompt: You’re blind and live with Spencer.

TW: Burns, pain, blindness

A/N: Hey guys, so this has been the first thing I’ve written in a while. I got a new job, so writing has been few and far between lately. This was just an idea of something I could write without too much trouble because I have experienced temporary blindness. I hope you guys enjoy!

A gentle melody danced through the air, the speakers of Spencer’s old radio gently cracking as the song became louder towards the chorus. Your hips swayed to the beat, a soft hum passing your lips as you mimicked the familiar tune. It was one of your favourite songs, something you played to go along with whatever you were doing, reminding you of happiness and home. You could almost imagine the colours that came through the speakers and danced along with the soundwaves.

Almost.

In reality, you had long since forgotten what colours looked like, having been many years since you had last seen them. Leaving you to your very powerful, yet also weak imagination, to imagine the colours that once dominated your life.

Now, you were permanently blind. A genetic curse that ran in your family, blinding only the most courageous of the bloodline. At least, that’s how your father explained it to you when you were only 9 years old, and almost entirely blind.

When you first met Spencer Reid, you were in a coffee shop, trying to find your way towards the counter. He blurted out random facts about blindness, astonishing you with his genius, whilst drinking coffee together.

One year later, you were officially a couple (though you had been living together since before he asked you out officially).

Now, you tried to take care of the apartment, and contribute to your part of the costs.

Admittedly, sometimes that got really difficult to manage. Like tonight, for example. Spencer had been on a case for the past week, your nightly calls with him showed how much the case was weighing down on him. He spared you of many details, trying to keep your child-like memory of humanity intact. But sometimes it got hard for him, like this case, making you feel useless to his humanity-saving crusade.

So, you decided to attempt to make him dinner. His favourite spaghetti bolognese. It wasn’t too hard to make, mostly everything was prepared, and you had taken extra time to listen to the ingredients and instructions. Everything had to be perfect.

Sighing, you desperately tried to find the diced carrot in the fridge. In an attempt to make your life a bit easier, Spencer had started to cut up the fruits and vegetables he bought – for “safety” as he called it. Honestly, it warmed your heart that he cared so much. Admittedly, yes, it was disabling, but you also didn’t care as it reduced your risk of cutting your finger off by accident.

You dumped a cup of diced carrot into the sauce mixture, the aroma of the bolognese sauce filling your apartment as you reached for the wooden spoon to carefully stir the sauce again. Not much longer and I can start the pasta, you thought as you placed the spoon gently on the side.

Holding your hand out to your side, you guided yourself around the island counter, feeling carefully for the bar chairs that were often haphazardly left out. One too many times had you stubbed your small toe on the wooden chairs, which always resulted in violent swearing, and Spencer trying to give you first aid to help with your bruised toes. To you surprise, you had yet to break a toe on a random piece of furniture you kicked, though you crossed your fingers and knocked on wood.

A loud ringing brought you out of your daze, the alarm for the pasta sauce had already gone off, indicating that it was time to start cooking the pasta.  “Siri set a timer for one minute,” you commanded as you placed the pot of cold water on to boil. Your phone beeped in response, and you could barely hear the soft ticking over the sound of the music that still emanated from the radio.

Spencer was due to be home any minute, and you couldn’t wait to hug him again. When you were in Spencer’s arms, it always felt like home, in the best way possible.

Listening to the timer go off, you smiled to yourself as you felt around for the pot, before pouring the pasta in. Setting another timer for eight minutes, you stirred the pasta and sauce quickly before going to sit back down on the stool.

Faintly, you could hear car horns and just a general bustle from the streets below, nothing really new, and a sound you had grown accustomed to over the years. A light elevator ding could be heard from out in the hallway, and your heart raced with the thought of it being Spencer. But alas, it was not as no sound of the door opening came as you waited patiently.

Once the timer went off, you toddled back to the stove, carefully turning off the knobs before grabbing the pot of pasta. Draining the pasta was always a challenge, as you couldn’t be sure of where the strainer was in the sink, and Spencer usually helped with this part.

Scalding water landed on your hand as you poured the pasta into the strainer, making you drop it out of shock.

“Fuck!” You held your hand tightly, wrapping your shirt around it to try and stop the burning sensation.

“Y/N!” Spencer yelled out as he walked in the door, you could hear him drop is bags before running over to you. “Give me your hand, you have to run it under warm water,” he urged, trying to grab the burnt hand from your tight clutch. Reluctantly, you let go, allowing him to guide you to the sink before turning on the warm water.

“Hold it there, I’ll go get the first aid kit,” he instructed. The warm water burned your hand even more, making tears well in your eyes at the pain. “Just keep holding it there for about 15 minutes, I’ve got burn cream and bandages for once it’s done. I also found your Panadol from the cabinet; I’ll get you some.” Spencer explained. Usually he was very reluctant to give you Panadol, simply due to his own experience with his addiction. But whenever he did, he watched carefully to make sure that you wouldn’t have a bad experience.

“Spence-” you croaked, your voice cracking from the pain.

“It’s okay darling, you’ll be okay.” He soothed, his hand gently stroking your hair. “I’ll finish dinner, don’t worry.”

A while later, he guided you over to the table, the plates already served and laid out for you. Your hand now wrapped in a bandage, burn cream applied thanks to Spencer’s very thorough first aid.

“How was the case?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.

“It was okay, we managed to catch the unsub before he killed another victim.” Spencer said in a quiet voice, he didn’t like talking to you about cases, it was two separate worlds, and he wanted to keep it that way.

“That’s good, she’ll be okay right?” Spencer hummed in response, one that you knew meant eventually. It always warmed your heart to know that the victims would be okay, eventually.

*****

“I hate going away,” he broke the silence as you laid next to him in bed.

“Why’s that?” You asked, resting your head and bandaged hand on his bare chest.

“Because it means leaving you. And I’m always terrified that you could get hurt, like today. Or something else could go wrong and I wouldn’t be here to protect you.” Spencer’s chest wracked as soft sobs started to fall from his lips.

“Spence-,” you soothed, rubbing your hands through his hair gently. “Accidents happen, even to people who can see. Yes, I am a bit more accident-prone than most abled people. But I can still take care of myself when you’re not here.” His head rested gently on top of yours, tears soaking your scalp. “If it makes you feel better though, I do like when you’re here to help me out. Especially tonight, I don’t think I would have been able to do any of that without your help.”

Spencer drew in a deep breath before speaking, “that does help, thank you.” You continued to run your hand through his hair, rubbing his scalp gently. His hair was soft between your fingers, his curls catching gently as you brushed them out.

“Can you read to me?” You asked once Spencer had calmed down a bit.

“Of course, Y/N, what story do you want to hear today?” Spencer shuffled a bit, and you could hear rustling from his bedside table, which was often covered with books and papers.

“Can you read some more Harry Potter to me?” Before you went blind, you loved the Harry Potter series. You had even managed to read the first book by yourself, before you lost your sight completely.

“Of course, we’re up to book 3 now, I’ll just go grab it.” Spencer didn’t read a lot of newer fictional books but kept a bookcase of them for you. Some were even in braille, so you could read them yourself. But it was your favourite when Spencer read to you.

“Okay I got it,” his soft footsteps padded through the room, back to his side of the bed. Laying down, you got comfortable on his chest again as he opened the book.

“Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.”

[tickly-trashcan]

A Special Way {TodoDeku}

Hello anon, thank you for the prompt! This one got a bit longer than I expected i apologize, but i still hope you enjoy it!

edit: i completely forgot the ‘read more’ fdjkdbfdjdksbj sorry bout that

Summary: Midoriya realizes that everything Todoroki does makes him flustered, and so they decide to think of a way to change that!

Word Count: 1.6k (under the cut)

Midoriya sat on his dorm bed, bored out of his mind. He had already finished all his homework for the week, could he study? No, he didn’t have any tests coming up soon that would warrant that… Could he rearrange his All Might figure collection? No, he had just done that last week…

He sighed as he rolled onto his back, pulling out his little flip phone and clicking a few buttons, scrolling through his contacts for someone he could maybe hang out with. As he scrolled through, he kept remembering that everyone on the list had plans that day. Ochako and Tsuyu went to get some ice cream, Iida was visiting his brother…

Then there was Todoroki.

Was Todoroki doing anything that day? He couldn’t remember, Todoroki didn’t like to talk about himself and his plans that much.

It had been almost a month since he and Todoroki had started dating, and yet he still felt nervous and Todoroki had a hard time opening up to him… Midoriya sighed, remembering their first date when they went to tea and sat there awkwardly, Midoriya unable to formulate and Todoroki being too shy to start any sort of conversation. But in spite of that, it had gotten a bit better, although it was still difficult for Midoriya not to blush at every single thing Todoroki did.

Midoriya took a shaky breath and sent a text to Todoroki, asking if he could stop by his dorm. Midoriya sat up, holding his phone with a shaky hand as he waited for a response.

Seen.

Midoriya felt a sudden rush of warmth run over his back as he waited for the typing bubbles to pop up… any minute now…

Did Todoroki leave him on read?

Maybe he was busy, and Midoriya just bothered him, shoot! Midoriya slammed his hands against his face and groaned, falling back on his bed, rolling from side to side in shame.

He sat there for a while, trying to think of another person he could possibly hang out with when he heard a knock at his door. 

“Midoriya, are you in here?”

That voice… Was it Todoroki? Midoriya jumped up and ran towards the door, tripping clumsily over his chair, stubbing his toe as he cried out in pain.

The door opened on his own as Midoriya hunched over in pain, Todoroki walking in and kneeling down next to Midoriya, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright, Midoriya? Did you hurt yourself?”

Midoriya shook his head, a blush creeping up his cheeks as Todoroki’s grip on his shoulder tightened, Midoriya letting go of the foot he was clutching to wave his hands around.

“I-I’m fine, don’t worry about me! Sorry, I thought you were busy, I wasn’t expecting you,”

“I was just doing some schoolwork, I’d rather be spending time with you anyway.” Todoroki said plainly, his expression as unreadable as ever as Midoriya blushed at his words, covering his face as he did so.

“How can you say that so easily?!” Midoriya squeaked, making Todoroki smile slightly.

“Because I care about you Midoriya,” He said, again in his mildly monotone voice. Midoriya blushed again, crawling over to his bed and hiding his face in his pillow, whining.

“It’s not fair, I can’t say things like that!”

“Why not?” Todoroki asked, following Midoriya to the bed, sitting down next to Midoriya’s curled up body, rubbing his back.

“I get so… flustered, I don’t know. It’s hard to say them because I just get so nervous,” Midoriya tried to explain, burying his face further into the pillow, muffling his words even more.

Todoroki was barely able to understand what Midoriya was saying, but he got the gist, stopping his hand and scooting himself further up the bed, tugging at the pillow that Midoriya was clutching.

“How about we try and find a way to make you less nervous? What did All Might say before that training session… get your wiggles out? Something like that, we can get the nervousness out,” Todoroki said caringly, finally pulling the pillow away from Midoriya, who looked up at him with a confused expression, an expression that made Todoroki’s heart rate increase slightly. 

“Um, I don’t really know what can… heh, ‘get my wiggles out’,” Midoriya giggled, looking up at Todoroki. 

“Anything that makes you feel better? Like going for a walk, or maybe training?” 

Midoriya thought for a moment… something that made him feel better after…

He blushed slightly, reaching again for the pillow that Todoroki had tugged away, Todoroki grabbing it before Midoriya could.

“No hiding. Did you think of something?”

“Yes, but it’s embarrassing!”

Todoroki chuckled. “Everything’s embarrassing for you, Midoriya, just tell me.”

Midoriya covered his face with his hands, whining as Todoroki sighed. “Take as long as you need, I just want to help Midoriya,”

Todoroki was about to get up from the bed before Midoriya grabbed his wrist, pulling him back down. Todoroki scooted even closer to Midoriya, leaning down slightly.

“C-Can you… tickle me?”

Todoroki blinked a few times. He was expecting a few things but he wasn’t expecting… that. 

With lack of verbal response from Todoroki, Midoriya’s mind began to race. 

“A-Ah I’m sorry! I didn’t actually mean it, I can think of something els- Ack!”

He was cut off suddenly when Todoroki pounced on him, pinning him to the bed by straddling his waist, hovering over him with a small grin on his face, Midoriya blushing more at the sight.

“I-I, ah,” Midoriya tried to formulate, Todoroki setting his hands on Midoriya’s tummy, the warm and cool temperatures from both of them sending tingles up Midoriya’s spine as he looked down at Todoroki’s hands.

“I’ll be gentle, okay?”

Before Midoriya could speak out any flustered response, Todoroki lightly scratched his hands on Midoriya’s tummy, who immediately erupted in bubbly giggles.

“Eeheeheeheehee, Todoroki! W-Wahahahait!” Midoriya swatted at Todoroki’s hands, covering his mouth with one hand to try and suppress the giggles that kept bubbling out of his throat. 

“I’ll stop whenever you want me to, okay?” Todoroki said gently, his hands now exploring Midoriya’s sides as he let out a squeak, his giggles slowly forming into laughter.

Midoriya nodded, covering his mouth with both hands as Todoroki continued his torture. It was very ticklish, yes, but it was also gentle, and it made Midoriya feel safe as he laughed, Todoroki slowly going up to his ribs. Midoriya jolted and Todoroki halted.

“Not here?”

“Nohohoho, it’s… it’s okay,” Midoriya blushed, Todoroki smiling as he dug his fingers in a bit harder than before into Midoriya, showing that the gentle warm-up from earlier was over and it was time for some serious tickles and loud laughter, which quickly followed from Midoriya.

He twisted around slightly under Todoroki, but with him on top it was hard to move at all, so Midoriya could do nothing but cackle as Todoroki scooted down slightly in his straddle, squeezing Midoriya’s hips, who let out a loud shriek, followed by a flood of loud laughter.

“Waahahahahait Todoroki! Nohohohoho, not there!” Midoriya whined, swatting at Todoroki’s hands. Todoroki merely grinned down at Midoriya and continued to tickle him.

“You asked for it, and I’m only gonna stop when you ask,” Todoroki explained simply, drilling his fingers into Midoriya’s hip bone. Midoriya let out a loud yelp.

“AHAHAHAhahahahahaha, nooo!” Midoriya screamed, squirming violently as Todoroki mercilessly tickled one of his worst spots.

“Does it tickle bad here? Want me to change spots?” Todoroki asked, slowing his pace as Midoriya giggled breathlessly.

“P-Please,” 

Todoroki nodded, lifting up Midoriya’s thin T-shirt he was wearing.

“Wh- huh?!” Midoriya gasped, not expecting that to happen. Before he could say anything else, however, Todoroki’s hands descended upon his tummy once more, Todoroki using his nails to scratch gently at Midoriya’s sensitive skin, driving him very quickly up the wall as he arched his back, screaming with laughter.

“NAHAHAHAhahaha!! T-Tohohohohodorokii!” Midoriya managed to gasp out through his mad cackles, twisting from side to side as Todoroki had one hand drum up Midoriya’s ribs while the other went under his unprotected arm.

Midoriya felt tears prick the corners of his eyes, he felt like he’d need to ask Todoroki to stop soon if he didn’t want to pee himself, but at the same time… he felt like he didn’t want this to stop. It was nice being this close to Todoroki, he didn’t feel flustered or embarrassed and, even though he was being tickled to death, it still made him feel more comfortable around him. 

He was so caught up in his own thoughts and the sensations overwhelming his body, Midoriya didn’t notice Todoroki lower his head towards his tummy until it was too late.

Pbft!

Midoriya screamed, pushing at Todoroki’s head as he continued to blow raspberries all over Midoriya’s tummy, hands still working right at his lower ribs. Midoriya felt tears finally trickle out of his eyes as he desperately gasped out.

“STOHOHOP!! Plehehease no mohohohohohore!”

As soon as those words were spoken, Todoroki lifted his head up, along with his hands, as Midoriya greedily gulped in as much air as he could, thankful that he could finally breathe normally again.

“Did I go too far?” Todoroki asked innocently, tilting his head to the side a bit. Midoriya shook his head.

“No, noho you didn’t… ah that actually helped a lot, thank you…” Midoriya muttered, blushing slightly, partially from the tickle attack he still hadn’t recovered from.

Todoroki smiled, leaning in and pressing a kiss to Midoriya’s temple. Midoriya flushed, pulling away slightly, but then he laughed slightly.

“I didn’t feel as embarrassed that time!” He said proudly, Todoroki chuckling.

“I guess I’ll have to tickle you a lot from now on then,” He said, raising his hands again.

“Wait, I’m not embarrassed right now, wahahahahait!”

[ghost-in-the-hella]

51. “You make me feel alive.” with PriceMarsh.

My apologies for taking so long to finish this! For whatever reason, Kate POV seems to take me extra long to get my head around. Better late than never, I hope!

CW for implied cutting, implied suicidality, referenced canon drugging and sexual assault (the Vortex Club incident), and referenced homophobic and emotionally abusive parenting.

---

“I’m a bad influence on you,” Chloe says, and for a moment she’s so beautiful in the moonlight that Kate doesn’t catch the sadness in her voice. 

“What?” Kate says when it registers. “No, you aren’t.”

Chloe stares at her unblinkingly, cigarette raised so that her face is wreathed with smoke, and gives her a look like she’s somehow proving her point simply by existing.

“You aren’t,” Kate repeats more firmly. “What, you think nobody’s ever smoked in front of me before? I do all kinds of community service. Plenty of people have smoked in front of me.” 

“Okay, but did they smoke in front of you after sneaking you out of the dorms past curfew, and did they commit petty crimes before they lit up?”

Kate rolls her eyes and shakes her head softly. “I still say you’re not a bad influence on me. I didn’t vandalize anything.”

“Mm. You did let a persona non grata delinquent into the dorms and then sneak out with her so she could tag public property, though.”

“True, but…” Kate kicks her feet gently in the air as she thinks. The metal of Chloe’s truck bed is cold and hard beneath her thighs, but right now it’s more comfortable than her own dorm bed. She hasn’t felt safe sleeping there since she woke up on the floor after the Vortex Club party she can’t remember. The gross comments that keep popping up on her whiteboard don’t exactly make it feel like home, either. “I asked you. I don’t think you’re the bad influence there.”

Chloe mock-gasps. “Kate Beverly Marsh! Are you suggesting that you were a bad influence on me??”

“Maybe,” Kate teases, and this feels better. Chloe’s moods tend to turn on a dime, and Kate’s never quite sure how to handle them. They’ve only been hanging out for a couple of weeks, and although Kate’s learned to recognize Chloe’s sorrow she hasn’t learned how to comfort her. Chloe wears that hard, tough, punk persona so proudly; offering her a hug feels like it would be a transgression. But when Chloe’s joking around, Kate feels much less out of her depth. Most people don’t expect Kate to have a sense of humor - “good little church girl” that she is - but Chloe’s proven herself to be an exception. Chloe’s an exception to a lot of things. “I did ask you to help me break the rules.”

“Because you wouldn’t know how to break them on your own, goody-two-shoes,” Chloe teases with a chuckle.

“I’ll have you know I was a rule-breaker before I met you, thank you very much!”

Chloe flicks the ash from the end of her cigarette onto the damp, sandy asphalt of the beach parking lot. “Really,” she deadpans. “Kate Marsh, rule-breaker.”

“Yes.”

“Sure we’re talking about the same Kate Marsh?” She holds a hand over Kate’s head (mercifully, it’s not the one holding her still-smoldering cigarette). “‘Bout this tall? Literal human marshmallow? Goes to church every Sunday and volunteers at the soup kitchen?”

“Yes!” Kate laughs.

“Okay.” Chloe shifts her position abruptly, reclining with her shoulders propped against the wall of the truck bed and dangling one leg off the edge of the tailgate while the toes of her other dirty boot stop just shy of touching Kate’s thigh. Kate wishes she were as comfortable anywhere as Chloe seems to make herself everywhere. “There’s obviously a story here.” She gestures melodramatically with her cigarette, luminous red embers and pale blue smoke - almost the color of her eyes - against the colorless dark of the night sky. “So spill, Katydid. Illuminate me.”

In her head, Kate scrambles frantically to find something suitably rebellious to tell Chloe. She’s sure she must have done something interesting at some point in her life, but with Chloe’s eyes on her and the way that Chloe’s biting her lip as she waits she’s having a very hard time thinking about anything else. “I… Sometimes I stay up really late. All night, even.”

Chloe looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “That’s it? Kate, that’s… That’s not even breaking any rules! You’re eighteen; you can stay up as late as you want!”

“My parents are really strict about bedtimes,” Kate says a little defensively. “Right up until I moved into the dorms, they would do room checks every night to make sure my sisters and I had our lights out and were sound asleep.” A sneaky little smile tugs at her lips and she drops her voice into a conspiratorial tone. “But there was a creaky floorboard between their room and mine, so I would listen for it and then I’d pretend to be sleeping when they’d check on me. And once they were gone, I’d stay up reading or texting my friends or watching movies.” Kate can hear how boring this sounds, so she hurries to add, “Movies my parents wouldn’t let me watch. I would sneak them. Horror movies, violent stuff. Things like that.” Not only horror movies, Kate doesn’t add because she doesn’t want to tip her hand even though she knows - she knows - that Chloe likes girls, too; she hasn’t forgotten how Chloe used to look at Rachel Amber. But she suspects that Chloe never had to sneak around her mother to watch Imagine Me and You or Saving Face or - God forbid - But I’m a Cheerleader, and she’s not sure that Chloe would understand how incredibly criminal it had felt.

“Pfft! I’ve been doing that shit since I was a kid. With my old friend Max, even, and she was almost as much of a goody-two-shoes as you. Man, after we sneak-watched Jaws she wouldn’t so much as stick a toe in the bay for the rest of the summer. Total chicken.” She grins wickedly. “Nice try, though. And I’ll definitely have to remember about the horror movies. I’ve got some that’ll knock your socks off, guaranteed. So what else you got, Cup-Kate?”

Kate chews on her lower lip for a moment before blurting, “I cursed at my mother.”

Chloe actually laughs at that. “I did that this morning. And again this afternoon. I do that literally every day.”

“I called her a…” She balks. She knows that Chloe curses all the time, but somehow she just can’t make herself repeat the word even though it felt so good to say it and watch her mother’s face turn livid. “A bad name. She grounded me for a week.” Grounded is an understatement. But Chloe doesn’t need to know about Kate getting her mouth washed out with soap at the ripe age of seventeen. She doesn’t need to know that Kate’s mother took away her phone and computer as punishment and proceeded to read her most personal texts and emails before grilling her relentlessly about them until her father came home and put a stop to it. She definitely doesn’t need to know how much Kate cried and begged for forgiveness that week.

Something in Chloe’s face makes Kate feel like she knows it all anyway. “Sounds like she probably deserved whatever you called her.” Chloe nudges Kate’s thigh gently with her boot. “And hey, if you ever want someone to go call her names so vile you’ve never even dreamed of them, much less let them soil your lips, just lemme know. I’ll do it for free.”

Kate can’t hold in a giggle at Chloe’s offer. It shouldn’t be funny, she knows. But it is. She shouldn’t think Chloe’s offer is sweet, but she does.

Chloe smiles and stubs out her cigarette, which is by then burned down to the filter. She hauls herself back up into a sitting position, the toe of her boot still pressed lightly against Kate’s thigh. “Okay, so we’ve got cursing at your mother what I’m assuming is a whopping one time in your life despite the fact that she probably deserves it way more than that, and you staying up to watch horror movies past your bedtime. Not exactly sounding like a hardened criminal, there, Kate. Sounding more like a complete and utter cinnamon bun, if I’m honest.”

“I, um. I drink wine every week?” It’s a weak stab and Kate knows it, but it’s all she’s got left unless she wants to delve into much more personal territory that she’s in no way ready to talk about.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “Doesn’t count as breaking the rules if it’s literally part of church.” She wags a scolding finger. “That’s cheating.”

Kate seizes the opportunity with both hands, a victorious grin spreading across her face. “Which is breaking the rules! Ha, got you!”

Chloe scoffs. “Uh-huh. Very clever, Marsh. Still not disproving my cinnamon bun theory, though. You’re going to have to try harder to scandalize me.” There’s a lift to Chloe’s eyebrow that feels like a dare. Or maybe it only feels like a dare because Kate really, really wants it to be one. 

Both of Chloe’s eyebrows shoot much higher when Kate answers her challenge by leaning in and kissing her.

Kate wants to do this forever. She wants to press harder, dig deeper. But she’s never kissed anybody before and she suspects she’d do it terribly if it were much more than a peck, and if this isn’t something Chloe actually wants then pressing would only make it worse. So she holds her lips against Chloe’s for a couple of incredible, terrifying seconds, and then she pulls away.

Chloe blinks slowly, looking dazed. Kate isn’t sure whether that’s a good sign or a bad one. “Okay, wow, that… Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

“...Does that mean I can do it again?”

Chloe lets out a laugh, fragile and amazed. “Holy shit, Kate.”

Kate wants to kiss her again, but Chloe hasn’t answered her question. Her stomach twists suddenly. “Oh my God, I’m such an idiot; I’m so sorry.” She puts her palms on her flushed cheeks. They feel impossibly hot; she can’t even imagine how red they must look. “I should have asked first. I’m so sorry.”

“It… yeah, that was definitely breaking the rules. I’ll give you credit for that one.” Chloe laughs a little shakily. “Kate Marsh, rule-breaker.”

“I shouldn’t have done it; not like that. Oh, Lord, I’m no better than those… those creeps who--” Kate can feel the warm feeling kissing Chloe gave her slipping into a cold spiral that seizes her chest and pumps ice water through her veins.

“Don’t even.”

“I didn’t even ask, or warn you, or anything; I just--”

“Dude, chill. It’s fine. I liked it.”

“You’re probably still-- I shouldn’t’ve just--” Kate blinks as Chloe’s words sink in. “You liked it?”

Chloe nods. “Yeah, I mean… It took me off-guard, for sure. Asking first would’ve been better, no doubt, but it’s not like I haven’t been wanting you to kiss me for, like… a week, at least.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It was nice.” Chloe rubs the back of her neck, frowning. Her face slips back into that space Kate hasn’t learned how to navigate, the one that shows she’s thinking too hard and feeling too much. “Uncharacteristic, though.”

Kate's heart sinks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means… Hell, I don’t know. It means maybe I really am a bad influence on you. It means maybe my step-dick is right and I’m just a no good delinquent dragging you down with me.”

“Chloe Price, you are not a bad influence on me!” Kate touches her shoulder. Chloe won’t turn and look at her, so Kate touches her chin and turns her head until she has to meet her eyes. The look in Chloe’s eyes makes Kate’s heart hurt. “You’re the best possible influence on me.”

Chloe laughs again, but it’s a broken sound. Kate never wants to hear her laugh like that again. “Not fucking possible,” Chloe tells her. “You’re, like… the best person I’ve ever met. And I’m…” She waves a hand to gesture at the whole of herself.

“You’re a good person,” Kate insists. “You’ve lived through bad things, and they’ve hurt you. But you’re a good person.”

“I’m a high school dropout with no job and no prospects. I smoke, I drink, I do drugs, I swear, I spit on sidewalks, I--”

“You don’t judge me. Why should I judge you?”

“I’ve sold drugs,” Chloe plows on, “I’ve hurt people, I’ve started fights just because I was angry and I wanted to hurt someone…”

“I’m not saying that you’re perfect. I don’t expect you to be perfect. But you are a good person. And you’re a good…” Kate takes a steadying breath. “You’re a good friend. You don’t treat me like I’m some fragile little flower that’s been sheltered from the world, or like someone who needs to be sheltered from it. All my life, people have tried to control me.” Kate clasps her hands in her lap, fingers wrestling with each other anxiously. “My family, my neighbors, my church, my friends… They all expect me to act a certain way, to talk and think and feel and believe exactly the same way that they do, and they don’t care what I want. They don’t care what I think or feel or believe. But when I’m with you…” Kate feels something wet slip down her cheek and wipes at it absently. “Chloe, when I’m with you, I can be who I want to be. I can be me. I can break the rules I want to break and follow the rules I want to follow and you don’t judge me either way. You make me feel alive. You make me want to be alive.”

Kate’s fully crying now, so it takes her a minute to realize that Chloe’s crying, too.

“Shit,” Chloe says, and she’s half-laughing as she cries. “Shit, shit.” She mops at her face. “You, I… Fuck, I can’t even… Shit, Kate! You’re… you’re fucking perfect. Jesus.”

Kate wants to correct her: Chloe is the one who’s perfect. She’s a perfect mess with her tangled blue hair and the dark circles beneath her eyes, her chipped nail polish and chapped lips and bony elbows and scarred forearms. Her stained clothes, her dirty boots, her bra strap slipping down her shoulder, the stink of cigarettes hanging around her in a constant fug. Her mascara running with her tears, the way she’s smiling through them and looking at Kate like she’s some kind of miracle. She’s perfect, and Kate wants to kiss her again. She wants to press the knowledge of how perfect Chloe is into her flesh with her lips so that she believes it.

But they’re both still crying, and the moment just doesn’t feel right. So instead Kate asks a question she’s been wanting to ask since they met: “May I give you a hug?”

Chloe nods rapidly, and her smile brightens. “You’d fucking better.” She opens her arms, and she welcomes Kate home.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Hi! It’s Kassiopeia from AO3. I am obsessed with your Buddie fics. My prompt that I was wondering if you would write is pretty much Dom!Eddie edging Buck. It could be any kind of edging/teasing/overstimulation but I’m kiiiiind of hoping for prostate play. Of course Eddie would also be full of praise and Buck would maybe get emotional and it would be beautiful.

Every time I get a smut prompt, a smut fairy gets its wings! *sniffles* It’s so beautiful.

This prompt is fantastic and I love it so here we go! NSFW, obviously, so under the cut.

They really need to stop having sex in the kitchen.

Buck’s thinking this, and he’s thinking this very seriously, but he’s also currently on his knees with Eddie’s dick in his mouth so really, he’s got nobody to blame but himself. Eddie just looks extremely good fresh out of the shower, and he was doing that thing where he watches Buck sip on a beer and he’s clearly thinking about Buck’s mouth on other things, and Buck is the world’s biggest sucker for praise, so here they are.

He glances up through his lashes, takes in the sight of Eddie’s face, flushed and slack, his eyes heavy-lidded, his gaze dark. Fuck. Buck’s straining in his pants and he wants to work a hand down and touch himself, but Eddie said no and Buck’s learned that there is in fact one place that he likes doing as he’s told.

Eddie runs a hand through Buck’s hair and Buck’s eyes slide closed of their own accord. He loves this - the feeling of Eddie’s cock hot and heavy on his tongue, stretching his mouth, making his jaw ache, the feeling of Eddie’s fingers tight and firm in his hair, holding him in place, the feeling of Eddie looming over him.

It’s occurred to him, in his more contemplative moments (Maddie would claim he has none but what does she know), that he’s really fucking lucked out. He wants so badly to please, he wants so badly to be told what to do - someone with less than pure intentions could’ve run roughshod over him. He’d do anything his partner asked of him, even if it stretched him thin or made him uncomfortable.

Maybe he’s like Maddie in that way. If he’d had a Doug...

But he doesn’t. He has Eddie, Eddie who’s murmuring good boy at him and gently stroking his thumb across Buck’s cheek, right where it bulges out, Eddie who’s looking at him like Buck’s special.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie murmurs, his voice awed, and Buck can feel his chest fucking glowing with pleasure at that.

He can feel Eddie’s cock jerking against the roof of his mouth, knows what that means, and starts to pull off, but Eddie tightens his grip on Buck’s hair. His voice is a low growl when he speaks. “Swallow.”

Fucking hell.

Buck whines, just a little, because he really wanted Eddie to fuck him but if Eddie’s got other plans, he supposes that’s fair. Whatever Eddie’s got in mind will be good.

So he hollows out his cheeks and sucks, and does his best to swallow it all when Eddie swears violently and spills down his throat. The first time he tried this (despite Eddie’s concerns) he choked and made a huge mess that had Eddie laughing so hard he cried (even as he fetched Buck some water) but by now, he’s got the hang of it, even if some slides down the corners of his mouth, staining his chin.

“So fucking pretty,” Eddie murmurs, and then he’s pulling out and hauling Buck to his feet. They’re still dressed, which is annoying, but that’s about to be remedied, Buck’s certain. “You were made for being all stretched out in bed.”

Try and get Eddie to talk about his feelings, up to and including a stubbed toe, and you’ll be lucky to get a grunt out of him. Apparently Athena’s kids are on a fantasy kick because Bobby recorded a video of them watching The Witcher and sent it to Eddie with the note, “It’s you except medieval,” and Buck thinks that just about sums up Eddie nicely (Eddie, who responded by sending Bobby a selfie with his middle finger up, would beg to differ).

But when it comes to dirty talk? Apparently you can’t get Eddie to shut the fuck up. Buck loves it.

He shamelessly drapes his arms over Eddie’s shoulders and plays with the hair at the back of his neck. “Gonna be kind of hard for you to fuck me now, no pun intended.”

Eddie’s hand is warm and firm at the small of Buck’s back. “Mmm. It’s cute that you think that.”

“Why, did you have something in mind?” Christopher’s out an overnight field trip to the Griffith Observatory, something Eddie was having fits about all week (Chris’s poor teachers, Buck’s started being the one to deal with them since he, quote, won’t make them cry) so they have all the time in the world to do... well, each other.

“Possibly.” Eddie’s grin is wicked, the same kind of smirk he gave Buck when Buck told him in the gym you’re my problem only bigger, stronger, more obvious. “You trust me?”

“With everything except cooking dinner.”

“Ha, ha.”

Buck sees what Eddie was talking about once they’re stripped down in bed and Eddie pulls out a pair of what look like surprisingly durable (but also very comfy and fuzzy) handcuffs.

“Do I want to know where you got those?”

“That one place on Sunset.”

“Oh my God.” Buck starts laughing. He obligingly holds his hands up above his head, though, and lets Eddie slide the cuffs through the metal rail at the head of the bed and then secure them around his wrists. “Any particular reason for these?”

“Because you thrash and I don’t want to get elbowed in the face.” Eddie winked at him, then fished the lube out of the bedside drawer.

“I have never elbowed you in the face.” He did however once knee Eddie in the face, which gave Eddie a bloody nose.

“Don’t make me tie down your ankles, too,” Eddie grumbles, but his expression is nothing but fond as he braces himself over Buck and kisses him, slow and certain. “You going to be good for me?”

Buck nods. “Yes.” He’ll always be good for Eddie. Or try to, anyway.

Eddie’s fingers skim down his stomach, stroking right above his aching cock. Buck hasn’t been touched yet and he whines, pushing up shamelessly into Eddie’s hands, wanting more.

There’s the snap of the lube cap being opened and then fingers teasing at his rim. “Y’know how much I love when you’re desperate.” Eddie’s mouth trails up Buck’s jaw, right to his ear.

Buck nods. He’s loud to start out with and only gets more so when he’s on the edge.

“So I was thinking... just how desperate can you get?” Eddie works a finger into him slowly, twisting it, sinking in easy as anything after so many times learning each other’s bodies. “Let’s find out.”

Oh God. This is going to be the best and the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

Eddie curls his finger just so, getting in in deep and finding that little bundle of nerves - the one that made Buck give him a bloody nose the first time Eddie found it. He strokes against the spot lightly, and Buck shivers all over. He feels like a teenager all over again when it comes to this kind of sex. He never did anything like this before Eddie, so it still has that new, uncontrollable edge to it the way fucking a girl did when he was sixteen.

He whines high in the back of his throat as Eddie keeps touching him there, and doesn’t let up. Usually Eddie just teases him, knowing how sensitive Buck is, but tonight he’s relentless, stroking him over and over until Buck’s trembling. He wants another finger, a hand on his dick, something, but Eddie’s just watching him with this satisfied smirk, his eyes dark and warm as chocolate.

Every breath in feels like fire, and he’s starting to wonder if maybe he can actually come without touching his cock after all, when Eddie pulls his finger out.

“What - what the fuck.” He’s struggling for breath.

Eddie bends down and nuzzles him, stroking his sides to soothe him. “I learned about this fun thing.”

“I have a feeling we’re doing this fun thing right now.”

Eddie slides back inside him - two fingers this time, scissoring them, letting Buck feel that stretch, the slight burn that Buck craves - and nips at Buck’s earlobe. “Figured you weren’t the only one who could do internet research. It’s called edging.”

Oh fucking hell. “Eddie...” he whines shamelessly.

Eddie starts stroking his prostate again and Buck can feel his eyes rolling back into his head. “Mmm, there was this forum that had a lot of great ideas...”

Now he knows why Eddie wanted to come earlier. Because he wouldn’t have had the patience to do this, otherwise. Take his time.

Eddie presses right up against his prostate and holds there, stroking Buck’s cock with his other hand.

Jesus fucking Christ. Buck’s entire body seizes up as pleasure shoots through him like a thousand volts. There’s that pressure right up against that spot, unrelenting, and then Eddie starts massaging it and he’s gonna - mother of God--

Eddie squeezes the base of his cock, hard, and the orgasm that was rushing through him is strangled to a halt, choking him. Buck’s vision is fucking swimming. He moans weakly.

“Fuck.” Eddie’s pupils are so wide his eyes look black. “Perfect.”

Buck tries to brace himself, but he fucking can’t as Eddie strokes his fingers inside him again, keeping his hand tight around the base of Buck’s cock, preventing him from coming. And he does thrash, or he would, if Eddie wasn’t sitting on his goddamn legs and his hands weren’t fucking handcuffed. Jesus holy mother of fucking goddamn shit fuck fuck. It’s so good and they named this whole thing appropriately because he is right on the fucking edge but he can’t fucking go over.

Eddie pulls his fingers out and gently presses the heel of his hand down onto Buck’s stomach, rolling his palm, massaging him, soothing him once again. He relaxes his death grip on Buck’s cock, too, and that’s a fucking relief.

Buck’s entire body feels like it’s burning up, and his vision is blurred, but he’s starting to come back to himself - right when Eddie slides three fingers in.

His voice breaks when he moans as Eddie gets right back to it, his legs shaking, his hands clenching. “Eddie, Eddie c’mon, Eddie - Eddie please, can I - can I come please please please can I--”

“Mmm, no.” Eddie’s just about purring, and Buck’s ninety percent sure Eddie has no clue that his Texas drawl comes out when he’s like this, turned on and in command, but it’s hot as fuck. “No, you’re not coming yet. You’re coming when I say you are.” He kisses just underneath the bolt of Buck’s jaw. “You know why?”

Buck can’t even speak at this point, he just gasps helplessly.

He can feel Eddie’s smile against his skin as Eddie whispers, “Because you’re mine.”

Neither of them say those three little words often. It’s just not how they are. Eddie’s idea of verbal affection is akin to having a root canal and Buck fumbles his words more often than not, so they just… find other ways. And Buck doesn’t mind that. Because Eddie will go and do that. Say that.

Mine.

He once introduced Buck to a goddamn emergency call victim (they’d gotten their foot stuck in a lawn mower, long story) as “my Buck here’ll get you out” and Buck nearly had a heart attack when he realized that Eddie hadn’t even fucking known what he’d said.

They might only say I love you once in a blue moon, but God, he never once had to doubt Eddie’s feelings.

“Hmm?” Eddie scrapes their cheeks together, moves down, down, sinks his teeth into Buck’s throat, sucks hard. Buck’s entire body jolts. “Are you?”

He drags the pads of his fingers against Buck’s prostate and Buck feels like his nerve endings are fraying. “Yes.” It’s barely a word, more like an exhale of breath. “Yes, yours, yes, yes--”

Eddie kisses him, slides his tongue right in, claiming, and Buck draws him in, sucks, whimpers, because he is, he is, he is, and Eddie’s his, and he’s never felt so much like a part of a unit, like he belongs, as he does when he’s with this man. Because Eddie doesn’t let just anyone in. His walls are double reinforced with steel, and now that Buck knows Eddie’s history, he gets it. Everyone that Eddie let in let him down, turned on him, called him weak. But Buck doesn’t think that, and Eddie let him in, and Buck will never forget what an honor that is.

Their bodies press together as Eddie kisses him, his fingers relentless, and Buck can feel Eddie’s now-hard cock dragging against his. God, it’s so good, but it’s not enough, and he’s dangling off the end of the cliff but he’s not falling and he wants, he wants to so very badly.

Something warm and damp slides down his face as he frantically grinds down onto Eddie’s fingers, against Eddie’s stomach, and he realizes he’s crying. It’s just so much, pleasure with no release, and he feels like his brain is fried.

“So good,” Eddie murmurs, encouraging, praising. “You’re being so good for me, look at you. Such a good boy.”

His fingers slide out and Buck whines at the lost, caught between wanting it to end and wanting Eddie to never stop touching him, but Eddie kisses him calm at once. “It’s okay, shh, I got you.”

He hears the lube cap again and then Eddie’s cock is nudging at him and oh, oh, he’s going to get fucked. He spreads his legs, eager for it, knowing if Eddie’s doing this then they’re close to the end at last.

Eddie grabs onto his hips to keep him steady as he sinks in, swift and easy like a hot knife in butter. Buck’s loose and beyond ready after all of this, and between his exhale and his next inhale, Eddie’s gone inside to the hilt, his hips pressing right up against Buck’s ass.

“Just a little longer, okay?” Eddie’s lips are right up against the flushed, tender skin of Buck’s neck, like he can’t bring himself to pull away. Buck’s fingers flex, wishing he could touch him, but he’s not sure he could even manage a good grip right now, he’s so strung out. “You’ve been so good, can you hold out a little longer for me?”

Since you asked. He’d do anything.

“Yes,” Buck promises, his voice raw, and Eddie kisses up his neck, right up to the corner of his mouth, and then thrusts.

Buck does not scream. His voice is too worn out for that. But it is... uh... a noise that’s on the higher pitched end of the spectrum.

Eddie thrusts in deep every time, slamming right up against his prostate, and Buck’s fucking flying. He’s strewn into a million little pieces all over the fuckin’ galaxy. It’s so good it hurts, so good he’s pretty sure you could hook him up and shock him with electricity and he wouldn’t notice the difference. He’s crying again, each press against his prostate causing a weak moan, and he can’t even speak to beg.

Part of him wants it to never end.

Eddie’s thrusts are becoming more erratic, sloppier, and Buck dimly wonders what Eddie sees, realizes that it’s him that’s doing this to Eddie - that his writhing and whimpering are that hot to Eddie, that sexy, and it fills him with a sort of vicious, feral pride. He’s not in this alone. Eddie’s just as wrecked for Buck, in his own way, as Buck is for Eddie.

Eddie bites Buck’s lip as he comes, filling him, finding his prostate and staying pressed up against it, even when he finishes, he’s still inside, still there, and Buck’s mind is melting.

“I can’t,” he breaks, begs, pleads. “Eddie, I fucking - I can’t--”

“Shh, shh.” Eddie wraps his hand around Buck’s cock and finally, finally starts stroking it again. “I know, I know, it’s okay, you can come now. You were so good, you can come now.”

Buck sobs brokenly, his fingers and toes clenching so hard it hurts, his body screaming silently as he stains his own stomach, coming hard, the world vanishing. He has no idea how long it lasts, but when it’s over he feels like a rag doll.

“Jeeeeesus,” Eddie says, drawing out the word like a string of chewing gum.

He undoes the handcuffs and massages Buck’s wrists, checking for marks, then gets up to fetch a warm, damp washcloth.

Buck would move to help, but his bones have melted. So have his muscles. He’s just a puddle. He’s never come that hard in his life.

Eddie watches him with this look of awed satisfaction as he cleans them both up. Buck manages a tired smile. “Did I do good?”

Eddie’s mouth is on his in an instant, like he’s trying to catch that smile before it vanishes. “Very. I’m so proud of you.”

They should probably do more clean up, and get some water, but it feels so good when Eddie kisses him like this, like they have all the time in the world... so Buck manages to get his arms up around his boyfriend’s neck, and holds them together.

Eddie huffs against his lips knowingly, but he stays, a steady weight on top of Buck. “Did you like it?”

“Mmm.” It was absolutely fucking insane, but. “Can we do it again?”

Eddie laughs, blushing, pleased, and Buck - Buck would cross oceans for that face. He’d run into a burning building. He’d dig through thirty feet of mud.

“Of course.” Eddie kisses him again. “Whatever you want.”

Buck feels like he’s glowing.