#(...or were. rip brad)

[queenhawke]

it's a good shirt

[eshtaresht]

so, I couldn't quite figure out when vash took off the shoulder piece and found this:

right here, it seems like it's actually connected to the coat. so when it's on, we can only see the real prosthetic below the elbow, everything above that just protects the shoulder from further damage. we've already seen him using it as a shield, but knowing that it's a separate piece makes even more sense. like, vash took it off before, but I assumed it was connected to the arm and not the coat. considering that red piece at the end, the sleeve is probably intact underneath the armor

it also looks like the actual prosthetic arm isn't supposed to be removed from the shoulder, but can be disconnected at the elbow. and it feels much more like an actual limb. I think it's linked to the nervous system in a way that vash can actually sense pain and pressure with it (1. the way he twitched when brad fixed it and 2. it would be harder to remove a bullet without sensory input from the hand)

[newtwithinternet]

also do we as a society agree that amy and brad are two aros in a qpr

[nctstar]

Can I get a smut of Johnny suh using his size and strength kink on a petite female Y/N? Thank you~

heyy! i'm so sorry this is absurdly late :(( but hope you still like it! <3

small

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

pairing: johnny suh x fem!reader

other members: none

word count: 2.4k

genre: romance, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! as per the request the reader is smaller than Johnny but I refrained from describing body parts or her specific size or anything like that, she is just short. if you're sensitive to this kind of talk though maybe don't read <3 mild profanity, lots of kissing, johnny carries reader, manhandling, descriptions of johnny's torso and body throughout, dirty talk about the size of his ding dong schlong, mild degradation (use of slut), ripping clothes bc those muscles do more than lift weights <3, clitoral stimulation/fingering, reader is pretty slutty and dumb during sex (aren't we all), missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), condom use, talking after sex (post nut clarity fr)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. 

a/n: i have been in such a writer's slump particularly with smut! like i think i need some time off to write some good fics and some good smut, so i'm sorry anon and to all my lovely readers if this is shit :(

“Now why would he ever say that?” You peeked at your friend pacing around your small room through your hair. Scissors in one hand, your (new) bangs in the other, you winced. “Wait, girl, I made a mistake I think.”

She sighed as you let the strands flutter across your forehead, uneasiness settling in your stomach. “Didn’t you follow what he said?” Brad Mondo’s curtain bangs tutorial continued in the background as you turned your head expectantly from side to side. Your friend held your head in place with open palms, looking at you through the mirror. “It’s actually kinda cute. Makes you look…well…”

“Don’t say small.” She snorted, bringing a hand to her face to unsuccessfully cover her mouth. “I don’t care, that’s the funniest thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

You pushed yourself off the stool, rolling your eyes as you started undressing. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Your belt clinked as your jeans fell to the carpet, and you started bringing your shirt over your heard. “I’m sure it was his way of complimenting me.” Despite all your efforts, you couldn’t stop the annoyance that cemented your words into place. “I guess.”

“Girl, you need to tell him that it bothers you.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, and it’s not weird to call some girl you’ve been on two dates with small.”

The doorbell cut through the air, making you both jump. “Shit. It’s like he heard or something.”

“Shit. Wait, just let him in and get him to wait downstairs. Okay?” Sudden panic was settling into your body, making your hands shake. Your friend got the message and hurried downstairs, zipping her skirt up in record time while hobbling downstairs. “Hope I don’t smell like chicken. I hate having shifts on Fridays.”

Staring at your reflection in the mirror, you pulled the skirt over the curves of your thighs and butt, watching the way it held onto your body. Stuffing the ends of the top into the skirt, you walked over to pick out a pair of shoes.

“I’m heading out! Johnny’s waiting down here!” Your friend’s voice made your body do the kind of useless flurry that it does whenever you know you’re running out of time, and you drag out the highest heels you own. Small, my ass.

“Hey!” As usual, he softened his frame when he saw you, placing his hands in his pockets and smiling so big so you would forget to feel intimidated by his 6-foot stature, or rock-hard physique. His eyes were like small moons, bursting on his face whenever he smiled. “Hey, nice bangs.” You instinctively went to fiddle with them, silently cursing yourself for messing them up. “Thanks.” Your smile was a little forced, but you were giddy to see him, your body rocking back and forth without your permission, ankles rubbing against each other.

∞

“The pasta was so good,” you couldn’t stop raving, your hips knocking into Johnny as he walked you home, arms linked. “Like seriously, Johnny. So good.”

He laughed, the sound leaving him effortlessly. “I’m so glad you liked it. I remember the pasta here being amazing, but I was worried you would think I’m cheap or not taking you seriously. The place being run down and all.” You shook your head, your bangs shuffling from side to side as you did. “No, of course not. I would rather eat something good on the street than a tiny portion of something small and pretentious at an upscale place.”

He hummed, moonlight hitting his body, softening some angles and sharpening others, hair glowing golden brown as he walked. Your heels clacked against the linoleum of your front porch as you wondered whether your friend was home, but before you could reach for the front door, your knees buckled. You let out a small gasp as you felt Johnny’s arms around your body, pinching into your skin almost uncomfortably. “Oh shit! I’m okay, babe.” You both froze at the sudden nickname, his arms loosening around you as you straightened up. You shakily continued. “U-uhm, sorry, I mean-“

“I think your shoes broke.”                                                                   

Yeah, no shit, you wanted to bite back. But you held your tongue, frustration seeping through your pores as you held onto the rail, Johnny hovering protectively over you as you took the right heel off, now newly broken in two pieces. “Oh my god. These were so expensive! Ugh!”

“It’s okay. Maybe I can buy you another pair. Babe.” He said the last word almost sarcastically, and you glared at him. “Johnny.”

“I’m serious. I’m sorry those broke so easily. I’ll bring a new pair next time?”

“Johnny, wait.”

“You like me, right?” His face crumpled just a tiny bit. Not exaggerated like in the movies or anything, so subtle you would never notice from afar, or if you weren’t close. You warmed at the thought of knowing him so closely, so well, enough to know that something was not right in the lines of his eyebrows.

You gulped, not knowing how to respond.

“I feel like you kinda hate me.” He crinkled his nose when he said hate, almost sarcastically, but his tone jabbed you straight in the chest. You shook your head. No, of course not, you wanted to say. I like you. I like you so much. But I am small to you. I wonder if you think of me as small. Do YOU like me?

“I just, I don’t like being small.” He frowned, and so did you, the words sounding stupid as soon as they filled the small space between your bodies. “I mean, you called me small the other day. And I know you probably, well, definitely, meant it as a cute thing. Like physically. Like a term of endearment, you know? But, I don’t wanna be seen as small, like more than physically. You know what I mean?” You cringed internally at your words, watching him stare blankly back at you.

“Right.”

“I’m so sorry. I sound like such a jerk. I don’t mean to be hung up over one little word you said.” You bit your lip, tasting the remnants of your lipstick on your tongue. “It’s just what made me feel a little weird. But, I do like you, Johnny.” Your heart raced as you looked up at him. Your body moved without permission for the umpteenth time, and your arms melted around his hips, fingers splaying across the small of his back. Your mind screamed at you, but your body ignored it, burning up from within.

Tentatively, he brought one hand to your chin, skin warm but rough on yours. “I don’t think low of you. I never have. I just think you’re so fucking gorgeous. So perfect the way you are.” The butterflies in your stomach were now dancing, free, leaping over hills and grassy plains. “Sorry for the poor choice of words.”

You smiled, some of the tension leaving you as you let your bodies merge seamlessly, like lanes on an open road, like the sun as it meets the horizon. You kicked off your other shoe, standing on your tiptoes to meet his lips with yours. He tentatively glazed his hands over your sides, making you shiver and moan into his mouth. You brought your fingers to the nape of his neck, savouring the taste. “Mmm, Johnn-“

You yelped when he gripped your thigh, guiding it to press against his hips. “Jump up for me, baby.” You giggled, nodding as you straddled him, his torso gently rebounding back with your weight. As you met his lips once more, dragging your forearms across the top of his shoulders, you heard your front door open and close, the door to the downstairs bedroom fling wide open. As your back hit the bed, your hair splayed out onto the fresh sheets, knees bent, lipstick smeared.

Wasting no time to rid himself of his clothes, he spoke. “This room is fine, right?” Muscles bulging as he fiddled with his shirt, the ridges of his chest drawing in the singlet, you bit your finger almost comically. “Hello? Earth to _?” The brown of his eyes were soft, a sharp contrast to his stature. He smirked, his hair bouncing as he threw his head back slightly. “Like what you see?”

“Uh huh.” All the shame left your body as you drew circles on his body and face with your eyes, letting his thick frame tower over you. “Is this okay?” He breathed into your collarbone, and when you nodded fervently, you felt his lips suck and nip at your neck. Gasping, you gripped onto his neck, letting your ankles hook around the back of his jean-clad legs. “Y-yes. Yes please. Don’t tease, I want y-you so much.”

“Yeah?” He played with the buttons of your top, but you stopped him. “I can’t wait…just rip it off, please. I need you. Right now. Please, just use me. I know you can.” He drew an eyebrow upwards, and you almost felt a slight twinge of embarrassment until you heard the top rip, cold air exposing your lace bra, tits bulging as you arched your chest off the bed. “What a slut. Is this what you wanted all along?” He laughed as you wriggled under him, mouth latching onto the tops of your boobs. He released you only to throw your arms up, pinning your wrists down to the bed to watch your reaction. When you bit your lip in response, bringing your core closer to his, he laughed darkly. “Freak.”

“Yes, just for you, fuck, please.”

“Bet you’re just soaked under this tight little skirt. Want me to rip this off too?” You nodded before he could even finish his sentence, and the sound of your fabric ripping filled the air. “Mmm, just as I suspected.” As he dragged your panties down your thighs, you felt your wetness pool onto the sheets under you. “Please, please, hold me down and fuck me.” You whispered into his ear, letting your plump lips graze against his skin as you massaged the nape of his neck with your fingers. You whimpered when his jean-clad bulge bumped against your clit, the burn in your core growing with every passing second.

He kissed you deeply, pulling away at an agonising pace. “Tell me why, baby.” You whined, trying to gather some friction between your legs with no avail. His arms pinned yours to either side of your head, his legs like heavy weights against yours. “Please, I just, I want your cock i-inside me, w-want it to split me open…” He shook his head. “What makes you think I would do that to you? I’m too big for you, honey.”

You whined. “N-no, please. I don’t care, just, push it in me…” He laughed, kissing you. “Please, I want to feel so full…” He shushed you, sitting up to unbuckle his jeans. “Mmm, yes, yes please…” You were just babbling nonsense, the anticipation too intense to bear. His cock sprung out of his boxers, hitting his stomach, precum spilling out the edges of the tip. You heard him rip open a condom packet, dragging it on his length at lightning speed. He ran his cockhead through the folds of your pussy, making you whimper. “So wet.” He breathed, and you gasped as his tip entered you at an agonisingly slow place. “J-Johnny.” Your brain fought your body, wanting him to continue but feeling apprehensive at the impending stretch. “You’re so big. Fuck.” You snuck a hand down towards your clit, but Johnny grabbed your wrist, leaning over to kiss your chin. “Let me.” As he pressed one finger onto your core, you gasped, back arching, eyes squeezing shut. “O-oh, oh my…”

“You like that?” He started speeding up, your gasps and moans like drugs to his system. When he pulled away, he started pushing his length in, and you let out a deep breath, as if you had been holding it in the entire time. “Fuck.” You drawled, feeling him in every corner of your insides. “Fuck, Johnny. You’re, you’re so big, and s-strong.”

Johnny laughed, and you wondered for a second whether you had ruined the mood. “My cock making you lose your filter, babe?” You blushed, but the constant bump and stretch on your clit had your vision go foggy, your head spinning deliriously. You used your forearms to push away, breathing deeply as if his cock had suffocated you from the inside out. Johnny wrapped his arms around your hips, bringing you flush against his pelvis in one swift movement. “Uh uh, where do you think you’re going?” His snarkiness and the fulness in your lower stomach made your core squeeze excessively. “Ah, shit! Fuck, I think I’m gon-“ You felt it before you could finish your sentence, your climax stealing the words out of your mouth, making your heart thump incessantly against your ribcage.

Johnny cooed at your, his forearms now caging you by your head, peppering light kisses on your face. “You alright, sweet girl?” You nodded, gasping. “Please, please move.” He chuckled, groaning as he pulled back to thrust into you, making you throw your head back and scream. “Fuck, oh my god.” Your body shook with the force of his steady thrusts, his legs pinning your body down to the bed. “Good girl, that’s it.” He groaned, getting sloppier as he reached his climax. “You’re so good for me. So eager for me to pin you down and fuck you. Because I’m so big and strong, right?” You reached for Johnny’s neck, the embarrassment at your previous comments leaving you as you felt your core tighten, coil ready to snap. “Fuck, you just gripped me so tight, fuck. Nasty girl.” You moaned as you came, feeling him release inside the condom with a throaty moan.

Both of you heaving, gasping for air, you pulled Johnny close to your body, kissing his collarbone, his neck, his face. “I do like you, a lot.” Your breath tickled his skin as you spoke, and he stroked your hair gently with one hand, using the other to pull away from you to look into your eyes. “I’m sorry for calling you small. I admit, it’s a little weird.”

“Apology accepted. I think we’ve both called each other things we’re never gonna say again.”

“No, hon, you should always call me big and strong Johnny-“

“Johnny, please. Never mention that again. It was a moment of weakness!” You whined, shielding your face as he laughed, slipping off you to lie next to you on the bed. “Kinda sexy though.” You slapped his arm playfully, laughing as slipped down his forearm to take his hand in yours.

“I’ll think of something better for next time, promise.”

[uwuwha]

And oh, I wish I could hold you in my arms || but lately my body has been so afraid

A comic for @cometquest's blocktales apocalypse au! Can be interpreted either romantic or platonic. I kind of made my own story here, but you should definitely go check the au out!! His character designs are sick as hell and I've been a bit insane about them lately 🙏🙏!

Text reads: And if I knew you a little less, and my soul held a little less pride, I'd ask for you to stay safe by my side. But in my heart, I have long known what your answer would be.

Some extras below the readmore! Fair warning it's quite long

The comic without leetspeak!

In honour of the most recent lore post

Banner says: and me I feel also not so good Griefer's saying: Dude this yogurt fucking sucks

And my original tags condensed into incomprehensible paragraphs because there was not enough space to fit all of them underneath. Dear lord.

Genuinely I keep thinking about them oh my lord. The way in a normal world they would have never met. Wouldn't have even known eachother existed except in passing and rumors. Yet in this world where everything is falling apart Griefer and Jim are the only lifelines in their towns, do they meet even if its in voicechat. The only way Roadtown can talk to Turitopulis. And if Red lives in somewhere other than Roadtown or Blackrock, then Jim is quite literally the only way Brad can get updates on his father.

So they start talking and planning and communicating. And they communicate and they learn about eachother and they start talking more than strictly necessary and days or months or maybe years later, Griefer suddenly realizes that he's looking forward to his next conversation with Jim. He likes talking to him. He finds comfort with him. He cares a lot for Jim. A lot. Like a bird trying to rip out of his chest. Over the voice on his headphones who hes never seen before.

And if he knew Jim a little less well. If he maybe he were willing to beg a little more. He might've asked Jim to go and live in blackrock like his dad, or even go to Turitopulis to stay with him. But he knows who Jim is, and he knows who he is, and if someone had ever asked him to leave Turitopulis he would've socked them in the face. And even though he's calmer and more mellower than him, Griefer knows Jim would never think about leaving Roadtown for it to defend itself. And nobodys really manning the planes except for Jerry nowdays. So he never bothers asking.

But like a riving pounding against stone, the voices know they can't last forever and one day, maybe the voices finally got to him or maybe it was an act of self sacrifice, but Jim blows himself up. And all of the sudden Brad is left with headphones that emit static, no contact to Roadtown, and a sinking pit in his stomach. Do you see my vision here. Gripping myself.

[myuiis]

incorrect lookism

these were really popular on reddit back in my mxtx days so :)

1:

vasco: so what if i press the gas and the brakes at the same time?

daniel: the car takes a screenshot

zack: please shut the fuck up

2:

zack: why are you like this

johan: i used too much 'no more tears shampoo for kids' as a child and haven't felt any emotions since then

3:

goo: me, an intellectual--

gun: you, an intellectual?

4:

samuel: he died of natural causes

jake: you pushed him into a fucking fire

samuel: fire is natural

5:

daniel: oh boy, its pretty cold today

jay: here, daniel, borrow my coat

goo, looking at them: damn, it's cold today

gun: well shit, not like i can change the weather

6:

daniel, trying to flirt: hows the sexiest person here doing?

jay: i dont know, how are they doing?

daniel, blushing: i- 

zack, from across the room: i'm doing great, thanks for asking

7:

samuel: pass the chili

jake: whats the magic word?

samuel: or else

jake: thats two words but point taken

8:

jake: it's really muggy outside today

samuel: if i go outside and all our mugs are on the front lawn, i'm going to kill you

jake: sips coffee from bowl

9:

goo: yall know what? if youre not perfect, that's okay

goo: you don't have to be perfect. you don't have to feel bad about yourself for not being perfect

goo, putting on sunglasses: because obviously, nobody can be as perfect as me is and that is completely normal

10:

jace: can you recommend me a book that made you cry

zack: general mathematics 6th edition

11:

sinu: what if we inverted our initials? i'll start: hinu san

jake: kake jim

jerry: kerry jwon

jason: yason joon

brad: lrad bee

samuel: samuel se-- this is a stupid game

12:

eli: i unironically believe that i have suffered more than jesus

13:

daniel: *sneezes*

gun: bless you my favorite successor

johan: *sneezes*

gun: get that diseased trash away from me

14:

zack: dating tip: hold the door for your date. rip the door off its hinges. use the door as a weapon to fight off other men. establish dominance

daniel: i really begin to see why youre single

15:

[lookism at disneyland on the spinning teacup rides]

eli and warren: [spinning slowly while calmly talking]

gun and goo: [spinning slightly faster while having a heated argument]

jake and jerry: [flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming]

[multifandomworldsposts]

also for kinkmas.... daddykink and spanking or choking with Bradleyyyy 😩😩😩

Day 5 of Kinkmas: Being Rooster’s Bad Girl

KINKMAS ❄️🪩🛷

pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!reader

warning: daddykink, blowjobs, spanking, handcuffs, unprotected sex, riding

Y/N’s POV

I get my earrings on my ears and try to adjust my dress until I feel arms around my waist, I turn to see Bradley.

“Can you help me with my tie?” He asks holding his tie.

“Sure Bradley.” I say taking the tie out of his hand and tied his tie.

“Are you gonna behave yourself tonight princess?” He questions.

“Of course daddy.” I pout.

“Good girls get what they want, bad girls don’t.” He whispers in my ear with a deep voice that’ll make me weak.

“I’ll be a good girl baby.” I whisper in his ear.

He gives me a look, a look that says, I don’t believe you.

We go to a restaurant to see some of his friends from the navy, which the restaurant looks gorgeous. I want to tease the living shit out of Rooster, so I touch his leg with mine including touching his crotch. He does this to me ALL the time! So I think I’m gonna do some revenge basically.

I touch his leg with mine, I glare at him, he glares at me, he’s going to kill me in a few minutes. After a while, I slowly grab his crotch, he jumps, Phoenix looks at him in concern.

“Are you okay Rooster?” She questions.

“I’m fine.” He tries to cover his facial expression.

He looks at me with a face saying, you’re dead.

When we got home, I already know, I’m going to get punished.

“I knew you’d do that.” He’s angrily says.

I heavily breathe.

“You were a bad girl.” He rips my dress so my breasts can be exposed.

“You do that to me all the time!” I defend myself.

Bradley gives me the death stare and pushes me up against the nearest wall.

“You want to be punished?” He whispers in my ear in a deep voice.

I whimper.

“Brad-“ I get interrupted by Bradley.

“What’s my name sweetheart?” He whispers again.

“Daddy, I don’t want to get punished.” I say correctly.

“Well then, get down on your knees and suck me off princess.” He demands.

I get on my knees and unzips his pants along with his boxers to see his massive cock waiting for me. I begin to suck, his groans filling my ears, his hand gripping onto my hair, his cum getting into my mouth, and me whimpering, I want him to fuck me so hard so that I won’t be a bad girl ever again.

He lifts my head up to face him and makes me get up.

“You’re still a bad girl honey.” He says.

“What do you want me to do daddy, I rather have you fuck me until you cum inside me.” I pout.

He unzips my dress and sees I have nothing underneath.

“Let’s go to the bedroom, shall we?” He says picking me up and began to spank me.

I scream.

“Count for me baby.” He says still spanking me.

“6!”

“7!”

“8!”

“9!”

“10!”

He lays me down on our bed and undresses himself. I want to touch him, but fuck! I might lose it. He gets handcuffs and locks my hands on our bed backboard, I whimper again.

“I promise I’ll be good daddy.” I whimper.

“Then don’t behave like that again you hear me?” He says straddling my hips.

“I won’t.” I say.

He strokes himself to get cum on my cunt, his moans made me weak, I need him inside me.

“Do you think I don’t need my high heels on?” I asked.

“You’ll look sexy while I fuck the living shit out of you.” He says still pumping cum on my body.

God I wish I wasn’t in handcuffs.

“Daddy just fuck me!” I yell.

He smirks and starts to fuck me. I scream in pleasure, he keeps on going in and out, I wrap my legs around his waist and held him tight so he can be inside me. I scream again, he goes faster which the bed bangs on the wall.

He stops and releases me, I flip us over so I can be on top of him.

“What do you want to do to me daddy?” I hold his chest down.

“I wanna eat you out.” He says.

I make my way to make my cunt to be in his face and begins to eat me out, I moan, I can feel his tongue inside of me doing its job. I feel myself cumming, he licks all the cum and I gasp. I need to be a bad girl more often.

I sit on his waist and says, “You want me to ride you?” I say trying to make my breast look perky.

“You’ve been a good girl. Someone’s waiting for you.” He answers.

I sit on his cock and begin to ride him. He groans fill up the room, he’s so big, bigger than last time. I gasp again. I can feel him cum inside me. He grabs my hips and guides me to go faster, I make him sit up so he could help me. I wrap my legs around him and I continue to ride him once more. Bradley gives me hickeys, which made me moan in pleasure.

“Oh daddy.” I gasp.

“You want me to fuck you again?” He whispers in my ear.

“Just on the carpet next.” I say.

He makes me get off his cock and makes us go on our rug. He fucks me again and I scratch his back which made him go faster. I arch my back and I can feel him kissing my chest. He sucks one of my nipples and makes me sit up, we fuck again.

We lay down on the ground, heavy breathing. That was the best sex I ever had from him.

“I’ll never touch you like I did at the restaurant.” I say out of breath.

“Can we at least do this type of fuck session again?” He says looking at me.

“Bradley, we will but, I won’t touch you like that again.” I repeat myself.

“Just not in public.” He smirks.

[icequeenlila]

Context: They're in a grocery store.

Bradley had a crush. He couldn’t deny that any longer.

But.

A crush was just a crush. Some silly, little feeling that would go away soon.

People on campus used to call him King Bradley. He was the king of denial.

“You have a list?”

Max was leaning over Bradley’s shoulder to get a look at the piece of paper in his hands.

Bradley forced himself to stay still as he felt the boy’s warmth close to his cheek. Max let his hand rest on Bradley’s shoulder as his eyes skimmed over the items he had written down. The gesture didn’t make his heart race at all. Not the slightest.

King of denial.

“You don’t?” He made sure his voice had a derogatory tone to it. Something to repel the boy. To get him out of his space.

“Nah”, Max said, turning to look at Bradley with that goofy smile on his lips. “I usually just grab whatever seems good.”

Bradley could feel the ghost of Max’ breath on his face as he spoke, and the sensation sent all kinds of funny feelings to his belly.

“Well”, he said, detangling himself from Max. “Happy grabbing stuff then.”

Lame. His brain wasn’t functioning at the moment, okay.

“I’m taking the cart”, he said, avoiding eye contact with the boy.

“Okay.”

Bradley heard Max’ chuckle behind him as he pushed the cart, taking quick steps to bring some distance between them.

He felt hot. From the sun of course. He should go for the freezer shelves first, cool down a bit, and remind himself of how insignificantly small his crush on Max actually was.

Yeah, he should do that.

Instead, his brain showed him pictures of the small gap between Max front teeth, which he now had HD quality memory of after it had practically been pushed into his face. His skin still tickled where Max’ warm breath had ghosted over it. He’d still smelled faintly of the syrup Bradley had put into the porridge.

He let out a frustrated grunt, ripping open the glass door of the first freezer shelve he came across. Bradley felt cold air wafting over his heated skin and took in a deep breath.

“Get a grip”, he muttered under his breath, glaring at the collection of cheese in front of him. “You’re being stupid.”

The cheese didn’t answer.

Bradley rolled his eyes, reaching into the freezer to grab a pack of spread cheese. He was talking to dairy products. His lows were getting lower by the minute.

He turned back around, the pack almost sliding from his fingers as several items were thrown into his cart with a loud thud.

Yes, he jumped. He was kind of having a crisis, okay?

“The fuck, Goof”, he hissed when he found the boy grinning back at him.

“Did I startle you?”, Max asked, cocking his head slightly. “Sorry, didn’t mean to.”

“Ts.” Bradley dropped the pack of cheese into the cart. “I wasn’t startled.”

He grabbed onto the cart and pushed it further down the aisle, away from Max and his stupid fucking smile.

God, he was getting mad. Mad at himself for being so goddamn smitten with every little thing Max said or did. Who was he? A crushing school girl?

“I’m glad then”, Max called after him. “I’ll find you around.”

Please don’t, Bradley thought, and for a moment he was contemplating to hide from the boy. But if he actually did that, he wouldn’t be able to look in the mirror anymore.

So it went on like this. Bradley going over his shopping list, muttering to himself under his breath, trying to keep at least a bit of his cool. And Max dropping by every now and then to throw more bullshit into the cart.

Honestly, there wasn’t a single vegetable on Max’ side of the cart.

“You know what I see when I look at the stuff you put in there?”, Bradley asked when he finally couldn’t take it anymore.

Max looked at him like a confused puppy. “Snacks?”

“Diabetes.”

The boy just laughed at that. “Wow Brad, you can be funny if you want to.”

“I’m being serious”, he argued. “Seriously Goof, how can you survive on this stuff?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“It’s just junk food!” Bradley was honestly concerned at this point.

“It’s food”, Max said with obvious laughter in his voice. “Unlike you, I’m not a good cook. I still have to eat.”

“I’ll cook for the both of us then.” The words were out before Bradley could stop them. He just ran head first into his doom.

Max’ eyes went wide. Bradley’s did too. For a moment neither of them said a word, just silently staring at each other. Until – of course – a shit eating grin spread over Max’ face.

“Aw”, he teased, cocking his head so that a strand of black hair fell into his eyes. “Does that mean you actually care for me, Brad?”

“Forget that I said anything”, Bradley said flatly, turning on his heel and walking into a random direction.

He heard Max laugh behind him. “It’s okay, I already knew you liked me.”

“You annoy me at best!”

Wow, his comebacks sucked. It was all Max’ fault. His brain wasn’t functioning when he was around.

There was rumbling behind him, and before he could ask himself what it was, Max was next to him, standing on the back of the cart with his upper body leaned forward, like on a scooter.

“I care about you too, Brad”, he said, using his foot to push on forward in order to keep up with Bradley’s fast stride.

“Shut up”, Bradley hissed, walking even faster.

But Max didn’t have any trouble keeping up, comfortably scooting next to him, grinning all the while.

“Also, I’d love to try your food”, he continued. “Even if it’s poisoned.”

“I said, shut up.”

Bradley took a sharp turn into another aisle, forcing Max to stop abruptly and rearrange himself on the cart. Still, he was back next to Bradley in no time.

“Come oooon”, he whined. “Let’s be friends, Brad.”

“For the hundredth time.” Bradley glared at him. “Stop calling me Brad!”

Max only giggled, and Bradley’s heart picked up a beat.

“But I like the way your face goes all red when I do”, Max said and his grin was wide and endearing and fuck no, Bradley wasn’t actually thinking that! “It makes your cheeks all red. It looks cute.”

Bradley acted fully out of reflex, his hand coming up and right at Max’ face, shoving him to the side and directly into a pyramid of soda cans.

Their cart crashed into it, causing a loud ruckus as all the cans came tumbling down, spraying sticky fluids everywhere when they exploded on the floor.

They both stared at each other in shock as Max went down with the cart, their eyes locked during the entire fall. There was another loud crash when Max landed in the middle of the half-destroyed pyramid, tin cans raining down and exploding all around him.

“Shit!”, Bradley shouted when his brain finally caught up with the situation.

He lunged forward, reaching out for Max, but before he could do anything, he accidentally stepped on one of the many cans rolling around on the ground, losing his balance.

“Shit!”, he called again as he plummeted towards the ground.

+

from chapter 5 of 'Good Luck, Babe!' on ao3.

[silentcrowsilentravens]

Stars alpha reacting to their partner pulling a Richard and sacrificing themselves for them?

"Pulling a Richard" lol.

I'd like to apologize in advance to Lisa Trevor for this.

Joseph Frost, Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield, Brad Vickers, Barry Burton, and Albert Wesker reacting to their s/o sacrificing themselves to save them.

(Gender ambiguous).

Warnings: death, blood, gore.

Masterlists here!

Joseph Frost

Arklay Mountains. It’s the evening of July 24, 1998. Led by Captain Wesker, you and four other members of the S.T.A.R.S. Alpha team are searching for signs of Bravo team and pilot Kevin Dooley, with whom contact was lost the day prior. 

You trudge through the tall grass, gun unholstered and flashlight scanning over every dark shape in your path.

A persistent sense of unease hangs in the air. You’d be hard-pressed to think of another time you’ve felt so on edge while on the job. 

There's shifting behind you. You whip your head around.

Joseph is standing there with his gun. "Jumpy?" he teases half-heartedly. You roll your eyes at him and resume what you were doing.

"Hey... wait a sec..." He motions for you to come over.

"What is it?" You point your light down as you approach. It catches a metal object laying in the grass between you. It's a gun. A standard-issue Beretta.

Joseph bends down to pick it up, which is when you realize that it's attached to something.

It's...

It's a hand.

A human hand with no human attached to it.

Joseph drops the severed part in shock. Both of you jolt away from it with a yelp.

Upon further inspection, realize that you know who it used to belong to. You recognize the fingerless glove and the wristwatch. They're part of a S.T.A.R.S. uniform. More specifically, the uniform of Edward Dewey from Bravo team.

For a moment, the only thing you can hear is the wind and your heart pounding in your ears. You can do nothing but stare in disbelief. 

There have been a lot of deaths lately. Gruesome ones. 

You’ve seen the crime scene photos.

You’ve seen the crime scenes.

They’re difficult to stomach.

But the feeling that washes over you here and now is particularly visceral. Every last drop of blood in your body has run cold. You feel dangerously close to hurling.

Edward is someone you see almost every day. He...

He’s a great man. A friend of yours.

He can’t be...

You finally manage to tear your gaze away and look at Joseph. 

“...Eddie can still be kicking,” he says blankly. “Guy doesn’t need both hands to live.”

Yeah. 

Yeah, Edward can still be out there. Alive. Hopefully. He's tough...

...

Is that...

...growling you're hearing?

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize something—multiple somethings are rapidly approaching. Joseph notices just a beat later than you do.

“Joey, watch out!” With all of your might, you shove your partner out of harm’s way.

He hits the ground. 

A bloody creature collides with you, its sharp teeth sinking into the exposed skin of your forearm. You cry out, wrenching your arm to the side in a desperate attempt to make it release you. It does, tearing a chunk of flesh away in the process, and quickly latches back on.

A second beast joins in, causing you to lose your balance and fall.

Followed by another one.

And another.

And another.

There are so many. They look like dogs and smell like rotting corpses, but you aren't paying much attention to that. You're in so much pain, it's difficult to think. They're quite literally eating you alive and all you can manage to do is flail about, weakly attempting to get them off.

Joseph shouts your name in alarm, scrambling to pick up his gun. His weapon-mounted light illuminates the mass of creatures pinning you down. Blood and viscera glisten.

He fires round after round, trying to kill them.

Jill, Barry, Chris, and Wesker rush over to help.

Your screams abruptly stop, cut off by an awful, strangled, gurgling noise as a set of teeth manage to rip your throat out.

"No!" Joseph keeps firing, unable to process it all. Just because you've gone quiet doesn't mean you're dead, right? Right? There's a chance you're still alive. There has to be! "Get off! Get off!"

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

"Joseph, it's too late!" Chris grabs Joseph's shoulder, trying to make him stop. Joseph won't. "We have to go!"

This can't be happening. This can't be real. You're not gone. You're not!

The remaining beasts turn their attention toward the rest of the team.

Finally, Chris and Barry seize Joseph by the back of his tactical vest and physically drag him along as they start running. He doesn't stop calling your name, doesn't stop reaching for you even as your body becomes further and further away from them.

"Brad!" Chris shouts as their helicopter abandons them. "Brad! Where's he going?!"

This night can't get any worse. They end up seeking refuge in a mansion. The moment Jill slams the doors shut and locks them, Joseph plops down on the floor, breathing hard and cradling his head in his hands.

He can't believe it. You're gone just like that. It all happened so fast... And if you hadn't done what you did, it would've been him instead.

He wishes it were him instead. His eyes begin to burn.

Jill Valentine

It's the dead of night in the summer of 2005. You and Jill are stranded in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea on the Queen Zenobia, which just narrowly avoided being completely obliterated by the Regia SOLIS.

Unfortunately, the ship still ended up getting caught in the shockwave of the blast, leaving you to deal with even more water pouring into the ship.

It's time to clear out and fast.

Both of you are swimming through the flooded corridors in search of an exit when eventually, you make your way into a room that has yet to fill completely. The surface of the water is in view. You speed up, sparing a glance over your shoulder to where Jill ought to be.

She isn't there.

You come to an immediate stop, a jolt of panic passing through you as you spin around in an attempt to locate her.

You find her a little ways back, having fallen behind because she's busy grappling with a sea creeper that's caught up to her. Damn things!

It's gotten ahold of her legs and she's fighting to keep its wide maw away. Despite their spindly limbs, earlier encounters have let you know that they're rather strong.

There's already been quite a stretch between this and the last opportunity you got to get some air. In the time it would take you to pop your head out and swim back to help Jill, it could already be too late.

With that thought at the forefront of your mind, you ignore your body's desperate pleas to breathe and make your way over.

You unsheathe your Bowie knife. Using all of your might, you drive it straight into the B.O.W.'s soft shell.

Blood turns the water red. The creature reels back with a high-pitched cry and you take the opportunity to seize your partner.

With a tight grip on the equipment harness strapped to her back, you begin to swim upward, pushing yourself to go as fast as you can.

You're so close. Fresh oxygen is just within reach when something grabs hold of your ankle and sharply tries to yank you back.

Looking down, you find the same sea creeper giving things another go.

'Get offa me, dammit!' You slam the heel of your boot down on its covered head until it releases you, then kick away.

You lift Jill and force her above the surface, managing to get her arms hooked onto a ladder leading up to a catwalk.

There's yet another tug on your leg, far harsher than the last.

You release Jill, not wanting to risk pulling her down with you.

Bubbles begin to stream past your parted lips and water floods your lungs. The burning in your chest is beginning to worsen exponentially as you're dragged away, simply unable to hold your breath any longer than you already have. You're certain this is it for you.

Jill coughs and sputters. As the darkness begins to fade back to the edges of her vision and she's able to form a thought other than 'I need air or I'm gonna die down here', she processes that you haven't resurfaced along with her.

Her still-pounding heart leaps into her throat and she curses, diving back down without a moment's hesitation.

Her eyes instantly lock onto a red cloud in the water, which both you and the sea creeper are in. It has you in its grasp and you aren't struggling. You aren't moving at all.

As Jill closes the rest of the distance, she continues to hope against all hope that she can save you.

The handle of your blade is sticking out of the creature's back. She yanks it out and plunges it into a new spot, tugging you free and kicking the thing as hard as she can, sending it into a wall.

With you in tow, Jill makes her way above the water and back to the ladder.

You aren't breathing anymore when she successfully gets you onto the catwalk. She hastily begins to perform CPR, determined to fix that. She has to.

Unfortunately, she can't. It's already too late for you.

Finally, resignation begins to set in and she lets her hands still on your chest.

Jill is no stranger to losing people, and there's a persistent nagging fear in the back of her mind about losing more. You've often been at the forefront of it.

She's always tried to push it aside, though, always hoped that it wouldn't come to pass.

Her fingers tremble slightly as they curl into fists. She lets her head hang.

If only she hadn't let that damn B.O.W. catch up to her...

There's a lump forming in her throat that she tries to swallow as she stands, sending you a silent apology for letting you down.

...

Even if she wants to stay here with you, she knows this ship isn't going to last much longer. Cursing under her breath and blinking away the tears beginning to form in her eyes, Jill keeps moving. She has to...

Chris Redfield

"We're picking up a large bogey on radar. It's heading right for you!"

Just when you thought shit had already hit the fan, that message came through on comms and not even a minute later, a tandem rotor helicopter appeared, dropping off another absolutely massive—probably a good thirty feet tall—B.O.W. onto the team's already full plate.

Echo needs three anti-aircraft guns taken out before further help can be given, so everyone tries to provide cover for Finn as he sets the charges needed to blow them up.

The wrecked buildings around you provide little cover from the ogroman, which is intent on crushing the lot of you.

Chris points out a weakness that can be exploited: Soft, exposed red flesh around where a big metal connector is sticking out of its back.

You and a few others distract the beast with bullets. Chris manages to leap onto its back while you do so, ripping out a bit of protruding bone and driving it straight into the weak point. The process is rinsed and repeated a few times before the ogroman dies, dissolving into a foul-smelling, steaming goop that leaves you coughing.

Two anti-aircraft guns down, one more to go.

Everyone's comms crackle. "There's another giant B.O.W. closing in on your location!"

A loud roar rings out.

A massive hand grabs onto a rooftop, sending shingles raining down onto a few j'avo.

"It's the one we lost at the Two of Hearts," Piers points out.

Chris orders the team to prepare to engage. You follow Finn to the last gun, making use of an underground passage that leads you into another building. When you're standing on the top floor, the target of the objective comes into view, sitting on the ground below beside a barricade.

"Let's try to make this quick."

The ogroman has other plans.

Finn and Piers, a little ways ahead of you, head down the ladder.

You and Chris are stepping out from behind a partially destroyed wall when it turns and spots you there.

The two of you begin to unload your clips into it, not getting too many hits on that weak spot thanks to the way it's positioned itself.

Click.

Click.

Click.

"I'm out!" you announce.

"Me too," Chris says. "Look out!"

A massive hand shoots out toward you.

You both dive out of the way in time. You land back behind the wall, and Chris is still out in the open stretch. Another hole is smashed into the building.

The ogroman draws its arm back, then raises it up and prepares to sweep it across.

"Chris!" You don't even think, you just act, launching yourself back onto your feet and sprinting toward him. It'll hit him if you're not quick enough!

The arm grows closer.

With mere seconds to spare, you shove Chris back to the floor.

All the wind is knocked out of you as the ogroman makes contact, sending you sailing straight over the edge.

You make a graceful arc before colliding harshly with the pavement down below.

"Shit!" Chris shouts your name in alarm.

He needs to get to you.

"Cover me!"

He slides down the ladder while other members of the team show up to keep the ogroman busy.

A red puddle has begun to form beneath you. By some miracle, you're still responsive, but only barely.

"You're gonna be alright. You're gonna make it. Just hold on, okay?" Chris begins to drag you over to cover. You let out a groan, unable to process any of what you're hearing. "I need you here." Speaking into his comm, he calls for urgent first aid.

Before long, your feeble movements begin to peter out. Chris feels his stomach drop.

"No... No, come on. You have to stay with me. You have to!" You mean so much to him. He can't lose you. He can't. Not like this.

One last raspy, rattling breath leaves your lips before you're gone.

The grief, the devastation is like an instant weight settling upon Chris' shoulders. He slams his fists against the ground and cries out, leaning down to rest his head against your chest.

This is his fault... He'll never forgive himself.

Brad Vickers

"Pizza's here," you announce, shutting the apartment door with your foot. It's late in the evening, and you and Brad decided to call in and order one for dinner.

(Both of you also went ahead and ordered one for Brad's friend, Jill, who has scarcely left her home since being suspended. Brad would've been as well, had he joined in on the shouting match she and three other S.T.A.R.S. members got into with Chief Irons over the mansion incident. You know Brad still feels guilty about it).

"Brad. Pizza." You pop open the box and waft it in front of his face before placing it on the coffee table. He snaps out of it and sends you a small smile.

"You pick out something for us to watch already?"

"Uh-huh." He places the TV Guide down and picks up the remote. "They're showing one of our favorite flicks tonight, actually."

"Yeah? Which one?" You plop down beside him on the couch with a few paper plates in hand.

...

Hours have passed, and you've fallen asleep living room. The movie has long since ended, the remaining half of dinner is sitting abandoned, and Brad is snoring lightly beside you. You might've remained that way until morning...

...if not for a loud noise from somewhere on the street below waking you up.

You slowly straighten up, removing your head from your partner's shoulder.

Then, you begin to process the not-so-distant sounds of chaos. There are sirens and people screaming.

'What is going on...?'

An orange glow is bleeding from around the edges of the drawn curtains. You get up and pull them open. Multiple fires are burning.

You hurriedly wake Brad. "Hey. Something is wrong," you tell him as you drag him over to the window. "Very, very wrong. Look."

"Holy shit." He blanches. "We need to go."

You throw on a coat and shoes while Brad puts on his S.T.A.R.S. getup. He grabs his Beretta. All you have is a pocket knife.

The two of you make your way out of the apartment, hurriedly heading down the corridor and into the stairwell.

When you reach the emergency exit at the bottom of the stairs, you encounter a problem. Before Brad even gets the chance to push the door open, something rips it off the hinges. It's a huge figure clad head to toe in a black outfit, which is dotted with small yellow hazard symbols and staples.

"S.T.A.R.S...." it growls.

After a moment's hesitation, Brad seizes you by your sleeve and begins to high-tail it toward the front of the building. Time to try the front doors instead.

The thing gives chase. It's fast. Surprisingly so.

Brad aims his gun over his shoulder and opens fire. The bullets appear to have no effect. Not good.

It lifts its hand. A thin tentacle shoots out quick as lightning, wrapping around one of Brad's ankles and tripping him up. He lands harshly on the floor, his weapon slipping from his grasp. It begins to drag him.

"Help!"

You stagger to a stop, whipping around and grabbing hold of him. All that accomplishes is making the pursuer pull you along as well.

"Let go of him!" You take your blade and slice the appendage in two. The half still attached to it retreats. You help Brad up.

"S.T.A.R.S.!"

A new tentacle pops out of its sleeves. The moment you catch a glimpse of it, you put yourself directly behind Brad.

Rougher than before, the pursuer swings its arm back, yanking you over to it.

"Brad, run!"

Brad doesn't. He freezes in place.

It picks you up by your face, squeezing so tightly that it feels as though your skull might shatter. You struggle. "Run! Before it gets y—"

Your sentence is cut off by the tentacle going straight through your mouth and out the back of your head.

You're tossed aside, dead as dead can be.

You land facing Brad, your face stained red and your eyes wide open. He feels himself begin to shake.

Then, he runs.

This can't be happening. This seriously can't be happening!

He should have stepped in to help you. Doubly so after you had done that for him.

He should have done something. Anything but just stand there! What the hell is wrong with him?!

'Oh, god...'

When it seems that he's finally lost the pursuer, Brad slumps against the wall and slides down it until he's sitting. Alone in a random building, he cries harder than he has in a long time. He's so incredibly angry with himself for practically letting that happen.

There's a hole in his heart where you used to be that can simply never be filled again. You're gone. Gone. He can't believe it...

Barry Burton

As the Starlight slowly sinks into the waters below, explosions rattle it, illuminating the pitch-black night sky with bright oranges and yellows.

You, Barry, Leon, and Lucia stand safely aboard the deck of the Umbrella submarine Barry hijacked. Admittedly, you're still a little mad that he scared you again. A few years back, when you were both part of S.T.A.R.S., he pretended to betray you and the others the same way Wesker had.

He did it to protect your daughters and kept the ruse up long enough for Wesker to let his guard down. Tonight, he pulled a similar stunt. He made a fake deal with Umbrella and acted as though he was going to hand Lucia over to them, abandoning you and Leon on the ocean liner in the process.

"Sorry, honey," Barry says, noticing the sour look on your face. "I couldn't risk them finding out."

You sigh. "No, I get it. I just can't believe I fell for it again, even if only briefly."

"I guess I must be that good of an actor, huh?"

"I wouldn't go that far," you tease lightly. "It was just the panic of it all..."

"Ouch." Barry puts on a hurt expression.

Somewhere behind you, you hear the crackle of a radio. "Hey, I'm finally getting through to headquarters," Leon announces.

Barry places a hand on Lucia's shoulder. "I'm sure Polly and Moira will be excited to meet their new sister."

Lucia's eyes widen. "You guys were being serious?"

"Of course!" Your hand lands on her free shoulder. "Welcome to the family."

She grins. A genuine, happy-as-can-be grin.

"HQ, this is Leon. Mission accomplished. We're heading home."

You glance behind you in an attempt to see Leon, but he's standing closer to Barry. Your gaze only finds his shadow. You look away.

Over the sound of the rain and explosions, your ears manage to pick on a subtle gurgling noise.

Once again, you turn your head. The shadow is beginning to change. It's distorting and growing.

With dawning horror, you realize that all of the B.O.W.s haven't been eradicated, that it isn't actually Leon standing with you guys, that he's probably still aboard the Starlight.

"We aren't out of the woods yet!" is all you can manage in warning before the Tyrant finishes turning into its true form, red, intestine-like tentacles shooting out of the wide cavity in its stomach.

Barry doesn't even get the chance to fully pull his magnum from its holster before you throw yourself into the path of danger.

Rather than your husband, the appendages end up grabbing you instead. With how your arms end up pinned to your sides, you can't grab your pistol or knife to try and free yourself.

Panic instantly tightens itself around Barry's lungs. "Good god! Lucia, get inside!" He opens fire on the monster, desperate to make it release you.

It swings you all around, making it difficult for him to get a clean shot. It slowly but surely begins to squeeze you.

A big gray forearm collides with Barry, sending both him and his weapon flying across the deck.

The monster leaps off the sub and into the cold ocean, slowly sinking.

"No, no, no!" Barry practically throws himself over the railing, grasping it with one hand and desperately grabbing for you with the other. Just barely, he manages to take hold of your webbing.

The monster tightens its grip and there's an audible crack. You stop struggling.

...

Barry stills, his fingers going slack. He can't breathe, can't believe it. The devastation hits like a sucker punch to the gut.

Your body fully disappears into the dark waters. This is one of his worst nightmares.

He curses, banging his fist against the sub. It should have been him, not you! Why did you do that?

...He knows the answer. It's because he means as much to you as you do to him.

He knows he would've risked himself like that too if the roles were swapped.

He wishes that they were. What is he meant to do without you?

Albert Wesker

By all accounts, Albert Wesker should be dead. Instead, he's woken up as something else. Something more than human.

And now, he needs to leave this place before it turns into a pile of burning rubble. It isn't clear how much time is left before the self-destruct sequence goes off, but it ought to be enough for him to make it back out the doors.

Most of the bioweapons are easy enough to take out and get past.

There is, however, one problem—one nuisance that is refusing to leave him alone: Lisa Trevor. She's followed him all the way back up to the mansion proper. Since she doesn't have the good sense to give up, he's had to take a different route in an attempt to lose her.

Finally, he thinks he might have. The exit is close. Just down the stairs, in fact. He can see it.

A door behind him flies open. He turns, tightening his finger on the trigger of his Samurai Edge.

"Captain Wesker!"

Oh. It's only you.

Albert is pleased to see that you've made it this far. Not that there was much doubt in his mind that you would. You're one of the best S.T.A.R.S. has to offer when it comes to your combat abilities.

"Where'd—" Your eyes widen before your features twist in concern. "What the hell happened to you?"

It's evident that you haven't run into Jill, Chris, Barry, or Rebecca since everything that happened down in the basement labs. This could work to his advantage. He was hoping to have you join him.

Sparing a glance at the absurd amount of red staining the front of his tactical vest, Albert tells you, "It's nothing serious."

You head closer and stare at him incredulously. It's a lot of blood. As in, more than should be outside of anyone's body if they're still alive. Maybe not all of is his? He isn't acting like he's injured.

"...Alright, if you say so," you reply, unable to shake your worry completely.

"Come with me. We're leaving." Without waiting for another second, Albert starts heading down the stairs.

"But what about the others?"

"There's no point in going after them now,'" he answers vaguely. "I'll explain everything once we get outside."

You hesitate for a moment before beginning to follow him...

...Only to be stopped moments later by an awful, raspy moan and a hunched figure hobbling into the entrance hall with surprising speed.

'What is that?!'

It's clad in a raggedy blue medical gown, wearing a mask that appears to be made of stitched-together human faces, and making a beeline for Albert.

He moves to pull out the gun he just reholstered.

The monster hunches further. A load of worm-like tendrils shoot out of its back.

Everything seems to be happening in slow motion. Wordlessly, you throw yourself between the two of them in order to save your captain from further injury,

As though they were sharp knives, two of the tendrils pierce straight through you. One through your stomach, and another through your chest. You land in a limp pile on the marble floor, blood pouring from your wounds and past your lips.

...

No...

No, this won't do at all.

White-hot anger slowly begins to crawl through Albert's veins.

"You have no idea how grave of a mistake you've just made."

Yet again, he deals with her, this time ensuring that it will be the last time. You watch through half-lidded eyes, unable to truly process any of it. You're teetering dangerously on the edge of nothingness and it's far too late for you to be saved.

Albert just about unloads the rest of his ammunition into Lisa, saving his last bullet so that he can send the chandelier crashing upon her.

"Be a good girl and stay dead." He sneers, then turns to you.

You're already dead. He picks you up.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll fix this. I will help you rise from the ashes as I did. I will make you something more."

[tigertofu]

ok i've been chipping away at this Thing for a long time and i think it's finally ready to be vomitted out into the internet. without further ado, here is my

Stupid-Long List of Trevor Headcanons

divided into chronological sections !

((the NSFW shit is hiding at the bottom))

CW's for: mentions of drugs/alcohol, addiction, cannibalism, violence, gross sex stuff. typical Trevor things

and heres a gif of him cuz ig thats the tumblr thing to do idk i never made one of these lists b4 :x

the past

• he's a scorpio and the reason he has a scorpion tat on his hand is bc he's like. very mildly into horoscopes. he was born some time in november

• he doesn't have a middle name cuz his mom didn't give enough of a shit to give him one

• despite playing hockey and golf as a kid, he was never really that into the sports themselves. he only did hockey because he saw it as a way to beat up other children and not get reprimanded for it, and he did both in the hopes of being good enough at something to earn his mother's praise for once (it did not work :()

• hates his dad bc of how he treated his mom and is glad he abandoned him at that shopping mall when he was a kid

• he (w/ Brad's help) would play "pranks" on (aka BULLY) poor Lester during the north yankton days. some fav pastimes included (but were not limited to): pantsing him, hiding his walking cane, and replacing his asthma medication with laughing gas

• was highkey jealous of how easy Michael could get girls during the north yankton days. when he actually was able to convince a girl to come back home with him, he would make sure to be loud as hell about it so that Mike would know he wasn't the only one getting chicks

• all of his hand tats and a lot of his other tats were done in prison, even tho he was only in for like 6 months

• prison was a mixed bag for him. on one hand, anal. on the other, having to restrain himself from arguments and physical altercations so he could get out early on good behavior

• went thru a breakdancing phase in the 90's (i THINK this one might be canon. idk. could've sworn i've heard him try to tell Lamar this in an attempt to impress him. pls feel free to prove me wrong or right)

• one of the scars on his eyebrows is actually the result of getting a fresh eyebrow piercing ripped tf out during a barfight in the 00's. prob for the best that it was cuz we all know that shit wouldve ended up getting infected and rejecting out of his face anyways

• he moved to Sandy Shores not just because it's nice and isolated, but because it was the place most opposite of north yankton he could think of. never any snow. he absolutely fucking hates cold weather and snow because it reminds him of a certain bank heist that happened in '04

• between Ron, Chef, and Wade, Chef was the first one he met after moving to Sandy Shores. they used to cook meth together in a trailer out in the desert (another one that i THINK is canon but im not sure idk. it all blurs together, idk whats canon and whats not anymore, my brain is too rotted from spinning Trevor around in it like the world's most dried out little shriveled husk of a rotisserie chicken for the past three years, the fog is coming, yk how it is)

• he acquired Liquor Ace the same way he "acquired" the Vanilla Unicorn. the previous owner just mysteriously disappeared one day. nobody in Sandy Shores cared tho once word got around that the new owner was gonna start cooking crystal in the upstairs and selling it

• yk how in the game he said that his heart momentarily stopped once cuz he put an axe thru a power cable? he did that cuz the power had gone out in the middle of him watching an Impotent Rage episode he hadn't seen yet. for some reason (was prob very high and very angry) he thought that he could bring the power back by hitting the sparking wire with an axe. it didnt work. he smelled like overcooked bacon for a week afterwards. he enjoyed that part tho

the present

• he makes Ron cut his hair with a pair of rusty kitchen scissors when he needs a trim. he used to go to the nice barber lady in Sandy Shores but got banned after loudly moaning about how good her nails felt on his scalp once

• once smoked an entire cigarette in one long inhale. Wade witnessed this and found it extremely impressive

• he'll eat pretty much anything but he especially likes foods with strong flavors. salty, sour, super sweet, spicy, etc cuz his taste buds are SHOT from the years of smoking/drug abuse. he abuses condiments, especially hot sauce

• thinks that any restaurant that doesn't have a drive-thru is a "fancy" restaurant

• LOVES candy cuz the meth has given him a major sweet tooth, but prefers anything with chocolate over fruity/gummy candies

• has a weird fascination with eating raw meat.....of any kind. except for sushi. he thinks sushi is "fancy prissy city people food"

• also has a weird fascination with making stews/soups similar to the eyelid one that he tries to feed Michael in that one cutscene. it's the only type of food he knows how to cook. may be a comfort thing for him because microwaving a bowl of canned soup was the most effort his mother ever put into making a meal for him when he was a kid. and she did it like, twice, maybe. he for sure remembers both times very clearly tho and considers them to be some of his fondest memories

• will go for days without eating anything solid before finally sitting down and consuming enough food to feed a family of 5. sometimes he just like. forgets that eating is necessary for survival

• can open beer bottles with his teeth. between that and the meth habit, its an absolute miracle he still has all his teeth

• go-to pizza order is a large meat lover's. he tries to make vaguely sexual passes about "loving large meat" at the poor pizza delivery guys every time he orders delivery. does not tip, but will say shit like "hey, if you come inside i've got a little tip for ya" while the delivery guy quickly vacates the premises

• honestly? i think there is a good 50/50 chance on whether or not he is ACTUALLY a cannibal. maybe he posters as one cuz he likes the reactions it incites, maybe he genuinely enjoys the psychosexual intimacy of consuming the flesh of another human being........ who knows !! not knowing is half the fun :)

• ok ok hear me out u know that stupid tiktok sound that was going around a couple years ago that goes "hi my name is carmen winstead -- HAAAAAHHHGGCHH" ??? look it up if u don't cuz that's what his snoring sounds like. the fucking "HAAAAAHHHGGCHH"

• once he's asleep he is out like a fucking light. guy could sleep thru nuclear war

• is not opposed to drinking hand sanitizer when out of other sources of alcohol. it tastes just like the shitty moonshine Ron makes in his backyard anyways and gets him even drunker so why not !

• hates horror films bc they make him angry. at least, any of the ones where somebody survives at the end. thinks the murderers in them are stupid. starts yelling shit at the TV like "HE'S GETTING AWAY YOU STUPID FUCK,, WHAT ARE YOU DOING !!!!"

• believes baby pink and orange are "his colors"

• will sit on his sofa or bed and try to shoot any cockroaches scurrying around his place with a pistol for funsies when bored sometimes

• enjoys playing darts at the Yellow Jack with anyone who'll play him but absolutely fucking sucks at it cuz of his shaky hands. accidentally threw a dart into another bar patron's head once. will rage and insist his opponent cheated when he loses. will then get physical if anyone tries to tell him its impossible to cheat at darts. is much less of a sore loser when playing with Mike, Frank, or Lamar tho he will still grumble about losing for up to hours on end afterwards

• is an illegal immigrant bc he never became a US citizen. does not own an actual ID, but has several fakes lying around, all with fake birth dates and fake names that are wildly varying levels of believable

• will absolutely flip his fucking lid if Wade comes around him while wearing Juggalo face paint

• speaking of Wade. yk how he has a shitty tattoo of his own name on his arm? (at least i think he does. i tried looking to see if he does and i couldnt tell so now im unsure if thats just yet another detail that my brain completely made up or smth that i actually saw). ANYWAYS, Trevor gave it to him (stick n poke. it was a longggg process but Wade didnt mind too much cuz he was high at the time and consented to it beforehands anyways) when Trevor first "took him in" cuz he kept forgetting his name and got tired of referring to him as "Hey, you" (which Wade did not respond to most of the time anyways)

• is an ugly crier. like, a butt-ugly crier. snot, drooling, wailing, red face, the whole nine yards and he is loud as hell about it too

• loves back rubs cuz ofc he does he's an old man. often makes Ron or Wade give him massages

• his boomer-ass super-zoomed-in LifeInvader profile pic was taken by Ron. it took them a dozen tries before they got it

nsfw

• he sucks at eating out.........kinda? but what he lacks in precision and consistency he makes up for with sheer (sloppy. slobbery) passion. and endurance. can stay down there (and will, if you let him) for hours

• is not much better at blowing. "accidentally" uses too much teeth every time

• ~4 inches. MAYBE 4.5. good girth tho. not cut

• has a thing for chubby/thicc ppl

• is a biter and won't ask before biting so uhh watch out ! part of the reason for the above is bc there's more to bite

• loooooves loves loves to suck on things. fingers, necks, tits, dicks, anything. also looooooves having it reciprocated. particularly likes shoving his fingers in your mouth

• loves to involve mouths as much as possible. spitting/being spat on, the aforementioned biting as well as being bitten, eating food off of your body or having food eaten off of him, the type of makeout sessions that involve shoving each other's tongues down each other's throats.. anything that involves mouths and/or the motions of eating drives him fucking wild

• will beg you even when not explicitly told to when he's not feeling dominant. will beg and beg and beg and beg and it's hot but can also quickly become incredibly annoying

• but he LOVES to be annoying on purpose too. via the begging, or by teasing/edging, mocking, etc. loves to get a rise out of you and loves the attention (even if negative.. ESPECIALLY if negative) it gets him

• occasionally cries after sex. will expect you to hold him while he does. will start to angry cry and say you don't actually love him if you refuse

• now ik this one is nothing groundbreaking and seems to already be the general consensus amongst the Trevor enjoyers but im gonna say it anyways. he def has a thing for public/semi-public sex. be careful about sitting next to him while in any public space. he WILL try to touch on you and it WILL be in a way that makes it obvious to everyone in the immediate vicinity what's going on. does he do it on purpose as an exhibition thing? maybe...... does he genuinely think he's being slick about it? also maybe. if ur with him, expect to be banned from multiple establishments

• lowkey has a breeding kink in the sense that he loves to finish inside (not just bc it feels nice but also bc of the intimacy of it) and thinks that pregnant women are hot as hell

• is most likely infertile due to the years of meth use tho

• loves to both overstimulate and be overstimulated. just bc you've both climaxed doesnt mean he wont keep going for god-knows-how-long

..................andd that's all she (i) wrote. ty for reading !! i've got more shit to say about Trevor cuz ofc i do but this is already like 2k words so if u wanna hear my headcanons on anything specific at all,, pls do throw it in my ask box ! <33

[esperastra]

It’s been three weeks and I still have not sorted my feelings about Legends Con. So have this random, unorganized list of things that happened that I still remember (more under the cut):

Nick tried to flash (stood on a chair and pulled up his shirt) Tala and Maisie during their panel but no one noticed him in the back

On the other hand when Arthur showed up during Caity and Jes’ panel they immediately saw him and greeted him

Caity was asked what Sara’s safe word is at the Meet&Greet and her answer was “Chiquita Banana”

When asked who they would eat first on a deserted island, pretty much everyone immediately said “Dom”

Caity and Jes kept talking about doing a podcast and asking people for stuff to talk about. Jes suggested they should just do Stabcast but Caity said she doesn’t like True Crime (which fair, I don’t either lol)

Adam said Avalance’s kid is named Rose and that Gary would be a great babysitter but he definitely would lose her at some point

At the opening ceremony Caity was like “I think the last time I said I was getting married. And I did it. *shows her ring* And Jes had our baby!”

When talking about the hardest goodbyes, Caity being Caity forgot Dom left and wasn’t even in the final season. Her answer was Franz btw.

A kid asked Amy, Caity and Jes if they would rather jump in lava or drown in water if they had to die and Jes was like “How old are you? Where is your mother?!” lmao

Jes recited the condolence card from Meet The Legends to the best of her recollection and kept laughing

Arthur kept mentioning how weird it is that all these fans and the cast are in his hometown

I could listen to Maisie talk for hours, just wanted to throw that in here

Jes was talking about how beautiful the gold dress from 502 was and Caity replied with “Anything you wear is beautiful 🥰” before Amy chimed in that she is still looking for the video of Liv and Jes laughing at Matt falling off his chair that was mentioned earlier lol

When asked about a crack ship (Rishop = Rip/Bishop) Arthur went on to talk about how he loves fanfiction lol

When asked if Nick or Matt is the better kisser Tala said “Maisie”

Adam started singing I Will Always Love You (forgot why) and Maisie left him hanging by not joining in and just smiling/laughing

Poor Matt didn’t know about the Human Centipede but now he does

Jes came up with the pick up line “I can be your legend until tomorrow” and then was like “someone try this tonight at the bar!”

On the second day Adam brought a water pistol to the panel and used it on everyone who got up to ask a question

Adam was THE hype man all weekend. He kept starting “When I say DC you say Legends of Tomorrow” chants

The fandom organized a group gift to give each cast member a trophy of the Waverider. We were allowed to present it to them at the closing ceremony.

Nick was called “Brad Pitt” during the trophy ceremony and Adam being Adam stood up instead

Amy sang Future Favorite with one of the kids at the closing ceremony

Adam said something about how he doesn’t like being emotional in front of people and everyone started chanting “SHOW EMOTIONS”

By the end of the closing ceremony everyone was super emotional. Caity was too emotional to speak when it was her turn and started crying and Jes hugged her. She said “I miss you guys” to the cast and went back for another hug. Jes was like “stop the emotions. stop the emotions” in reference to the earlier chant

A small list of some of the things that happened to me personally. I won’t share it all in detail here though, for reasons:

When I got my solo photo op with Caity, she saw my Real Housewives Sara shirt and was like “That’s funny. Can I take a picture?” and then she posted it on her IG Story

Amy spoke German to me out of nowhere when she noticed my accent. She also called me back during our photo op to ask me how I was and if I slept alright.

Jes gave me this 🥺 look when I talked to her at the autograph table

Nick held my hand for like a minute which was super overwhelming especially cause I struggle with eye contact lol. He also kept lovingly teasing me the whole weekend.

Me and a bunch of people did the 709 costumes as cosplay and won ‘Best Group’. It was a lot of fun.

[didhewinkback]

chug

a something old blurb about the beer whale (whale beer?) (wheer?) (bhale?)

warning: slight smut at the end bc i know thats what the people come to see

---

“Just stand where I can see yeh’” was the request he mumbled into your hair before kissing you on the cheek and heading to the huddle, leaving you free to roam, beers in hand, determined to enjoy the show from a new vantage point, surrounded by the crew members you’ve gotten to know and love over the years. 

You spent the first half with Sandy and Sarah and the catering legends, giggling and dancing to the songs you all knew like the back of your hand at this point, locking eyes with him when he brought out Wet Leg, big smirk on his face as he sauntered up to the mic, eyes burning into yours while he sang one line of the chorus over and over, fire in his eyes when you sang it right back to him. 

You duck down to the front of the stage for the second half, ensuring the lads were well hydrated with water and beer alike, feeling like your heart was going to burst watching him have the time of his life on that stage. In utter disbelief at what the past two and half years have been for him and you both, watching him soar to new heights you always knew were possible but couldn’t imagine seeing play out in real time, the boy whose school band played at your 15th birthday party now singing to stadiums across the world, loving every second and being loved in return. 

He’s at his best when he’s up there, his big, open heart ripe for the taking, making the crowd of thousands feel like a small room of his closest friends, relishing in the attention, the screams, the insatiable energy, gratitude radiating out of every fiber of his being. It’s enough to make you weep when you think about it for too long, an impossible to articulate experience of watching the person you love most in this world achieve their dreams over and over again. 

It’s overwhelming, mind-blowing and also really fucking fun, you think, cheers-ing with the lads as you started another round of beer (it is the end of tour after all), watching as Harry runs across the stage, picking up his water bottle, poised for the classic whale, almost like clockwork. But this time, he pauses, doing a quick double take when he sees you down front with the crew. 

He gestures to your half drunk cup, ushering it towards him as you hold it up to the cheers of your group, Brad’s long arms aiding the transfer as Harry takes it from him and after smiling back at the band, downs it in one go, much to the delight of the lads. They’re goading him on, chanting his name, but everything whites out around you as all you can focus on is the way his throat moves, the beer that misses his mouth falling onto his naked chest, dripping down in a way that makes you feel warm all over. Never one to mind a messy face.

It’s over in seconds but feels like it went on for ages, a time bending effect he always seems to have on you. He winks at you before placing the cup down, facing the crowd fully as he spits it into the air, wide grin on his face as you all cheer before he runs to the other side of the stage.

It’s much later, after the final songs, the emotional thank yous, the celebratory post-show drinks on the beach with the whole crew, that you stumble into bed together, both a bit drunk off the booze and each other, burning up from one too many lingering stares across the party, whispered conversations about how good he looked up there, your beer all over him, his ripped chest gleaming in the spotlight. He’s pressing you into the mattress in record time, hands sliding all over your body as his lips leave their mark on your skin, breath catching at the never-ending stream of praise leaving your mouth as you get lost in each other, in this night, consumed by overwhelming pride and love and the carnal need to have each other close. 

“You’re proud of me, huh?” he grunts into your ear, hand sliding down your thigh to hike it up around his hip, the new angle making the both of you moan out loud. “Y’ love me?”

“Yes, H. Fuck. So much, I -”

“Want y’ to show me,” he says, voice deep in your ear as he smacks a kiss to your cheek, your temple, biting at your lips while his hands slide up your body, interlacing your fingers to hold your hands over your head, his chest sliding against yours. “Be my good girl and show me how proud y’ are, how much y’love me. Want to see it. Want to feel it. C’mon baby, show me -”

So you do. 

Again.

And again.

And again.

---

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[small-sinclair]

Take Me Instead

Hey, y'all! This is my first time writing for Bo Sinclair based off an AU idea from @ahmnom's dad!Bo. It'll be a bit angsty, so heads up.

Bo x Fem!y/n (about to give birth)

Tw: reader and baby almost die, Bo self destructing, mention of blood, religion mentions, sad stuff, very sad bo, not professionally prof read

Here’s a link topart 2. Enjoy!

Bo stared blankly at the hospital wall, holding one of the twin's in his arm, as Lester held the other, hushing the baby gently as they waited for someone, anyone, to tell them what was going on. The last person they talked to was a nurse, who had Bo sign papers to okay the emergency surgery for his wife.

Bo knew he was going to be in a long night when Y/N's water broke a week too early. Lester was an early baby, but only by a day or two.

He left Jasmine, his oldest daughter, with Vincent back at the house when he drove like a bat fresh out of hell. While the closest hospital was 30 minutes away, he did not obey a single speed limit sign or stop sign, and he could make it in 15 like this. His truck kicked up dust as y/n yelled at him to slow down, but he only snapped back.

"'M not slowin' till we get there!" He was trying not to have a shaky voice.

Y/n's face went from anger to wrinkling her nose to hold back a painful scream. "Just-just don't get us killed!"

"Yer' buckled, ain't ya--?"

"Bo!" Her voice was stricken with fear as she held up her hand.

"Fuck," he sighed as he looked down to see her holding a bloody hand. He looked forward at the road and gunned. To his surprise, flashing blue and red lights shined in the mirror, but he didn't slow down. He kept going until he was in the parking lot, swinging towards the front door. "Fuckin' hang on!"

Hurriedly, he nearly slides over the hood of the truck as two police officers followed out of the car. He flung open the door, finding y/n's eyes glazed and half awake. The passenger seat floor had a puddle of blood forming at her ankles, making Bo shiver and blood run cold. He takes a deep breath as he carried his wife bridal style out of the car. He felt the uncomfortable warmth of blood from her bright purple sundress, that he bought her days ago, soaking through the fabric like a sponge. The officer, on his left, felt his soul leave his body while the other covered her mouth as Bo went into the ER, his eyes searching the room wildly.

"Help!" He yells, getting two nurses attention. "My-my wife! She needs help! Please!" His voice was cracking as two nurses rushed over with a doctor following behind with a wheel chair. "She started bleedin' an'-and she hasn't stop--!"

Y/n let out a painful groan, her hand gripping Bo's shirt, as she was lowered into the wheel chair. "The baby! Bo, the baby!" Her hand nearly ripped off Bo's shirt as pain surged to her bottom half.

Bo followed quickly behind as he tried to see her as a nurse held him back. "I love you, y/n!"

"Love you--!" Y/n's voice was cut off by another scream of pain and the door closing shut.

Bo's hands were shaking as he looked at the closed door then back at the nurse and the sound of the officers coming behind him.

"Sir? Did you hear me?" The nurse asked again, her voice snapping him out of a spiral. She looked young with her black hair in brads and wearing a soft green uniform. "We need to wash your hands, okay?"

He swallowed a dry lump and nodded, following her to the a room off to the side.

She turned the water on for him to wash, and he watched his wife's blood run off his hands, making his stomach flip.

The male officer stood next to him. "Sir, I know this is a difficult time--"

"M' wife's is dyin'," Bo snapped, glaring at the man. "You wanna ticket me? Do it. Don't regret speedin'." He didn't mean to glare at him with deadly eyes. He went back to washing his hands, lathering his fingers with soap.

The female officer, she looks older than the male cop with her hair turn a soft grey, and had the man step back. "We'll leave you with a warning, okay?" She looks at Bo's still running truck then back at him. "Do you want me to park it for you, sir? I'll bring the keys."

"Ain't a problem?" Bo asked, his voice shaking as he kept washing his hands. Her blood's not coming off. Why ain't it coming off? He let out a shaky breath. "Thank ya, ma'am, that'll be nice."

The woman nodded then turn to leave, taking her partner with her. Bo kept scrubbing his hands, harder and harder, until fat tears burned his eyes. "They're not comin' off," he murmurs to himself a bit too loud, voice craking and shaking. "Why ain't it comin' off? Just come off, damnit! Get off--"

Wrinkled hands went between his and the water, turning off the sink. He snapped his head up to see an older lady, fear in his eyes, a nurse, who looked to be the same age his grandmother died, standing next to him. Her kind brown eyes looked at his with concern and understanding. "Do you need help, sugar?" Her voice was soothing to hear and oh-so soft to his heart.

He found himself nodding like a child who just fell off a bike. "Please, miss? Her-her blood ain't comin' off."

She looks down at his hands and clicked her tongue. "It's your blood, honey. Here," she turns the water back on, "let me wash them for you and we can sit down, okay? I have some coffee freshly made." She sounded so much like his grandmother that it almost made him cry more; he missed his grandma. "Must've scrubbed a bit too hard. Have to be careful, okay, sugar?"

"Yes, ma'am," he said, choking back tears. "I'll try to be." She washed his hands, dried them, and led him to the waiting area to sit. She leaves for a moment and comes back when the female officer comes back to give him his keys, turning to meet her partner in the squad car. "Here's a cup of water," then the nurse sat a phone next to his lap, "and you can use my phone to call anyone you need to." The nurse straightens herself. "I'll tell you what I hear the moment I know, okay, sugar? Sound like a deal?"

He bites his lower lip and nods. "Yes, ma'am... than you." Once he was alone, he downed his water and started to dial Lester's number. It rang twice before his brother picker up--

"Lester Sinclair speakin'."

"Les, it's-it's Bo."

"Bo? Why-why's yer voice shakin' like 'at?"

"We're at the hospital," Bo tried to control the shaking, but he couldn't. "Y/n's in surgary. She's bleedin' an' the baby--"

"Where ya at?" Bo could hear Lester fumbling with the keys. "Still hav' the twins. We're comin'--"

"Don't."

"Shut up. We're comin'. Ya can't be alone. So," Lester took a breath, "where ya at?"

Minutes later, his brother and twin sons were by his side, hugging Bo when he first saw his family. Family. Goodness, that's a funny word still to the Sinclair's.

They've been sitting for an hour, Bo tapping his leg uncontrollably. His eye never left the closed doors. Even when his son, Memphis, sat on his lap to play with his stuffed puppy, Bo didn't look down. Instead, he held Memphis close and kissed his head every now and then, his heartbeat racing. If Bo didn't quite smoking 15 months ago--

The old nurse came into view and walked towards him with a white clipboard in hand. Bo's heard perks up as he handed Memphis to Lester, who was reading "Lord of the Rings" to other twin, Dallas, and stood up.

"Mr. Sinclair?" She asked as she came closer. "Would you like to come with me?"

"My wife," Bo started, his hands shaking as he held his scarred wrist nervously. "'S she okay?"

"If you would come with me, please." He knew something was wrong with the way she held the clipboard tighter as if she was holding a secret between her and the papers. Her eyes held the same sadness like his grandmother's did when she had to sit him down to tell him his grandfather died.

Bo looked behind his shoulder, Lester nodding to go, then took steps forward to follow her. As they walked through the doors y/n went through, he whispers, "God, don't take her. Please, don't take her. Take me. Please, take me, God. Take me instead." He never stopped repeating the prayer as they came closer to the delivery rooms. "God, take my lungs. Take my breath. Don't take my girl. Don't take her."

She stood in front of the door to a room and turned. "now, the doctor is supposed to do this," she started, "but I just want to warn you, Mrs. Sinclair isn't doing so well." Then she looks into the room then back at him. "Are you ready to see them? Your wife and baby girl?"

Bo's knees became jello as he followed her into the room. He held his chest and covered his mouth as he looked at y/n's closed eyes, oxygen mask over his perfect lips and face. She was hooked up to too many wires and tubes, liquids and blood flowing through a needle to her arms. When his eyes feel to the right, however, he felt his world crumble and break all at once. He tried to hide his gasp as he looked away at the sight of his daughter, a little girl in a little cotton pink hat, hooked up to a breathing machine, her little chest rising and falling slowly.

"No," he whispered, cringing at his own voice. "God, no, no, no!" He felt his legs buckle and his knees hit the ground. He didn't realize that he was hugging the nurse as the doctor stepped in. Bo felt every fear and moment circling him like ravens over the dead. "Please, God, no! Don't-don't take my girls! Don't take 'em!" He sobbed in the fabric.

"Shh, shh, baby," the nurse whispers, burying his head into her neck. He started crying harder as he looked at the doctor, who was next to y/n, taking her temperature. "It'll be 'lright."

Anger snapped and boiled as soon as he saw the doctor touch y/n's arm, lifting it up to examine the tubes sticking out of her skin. He pushed himself off the floor and, within a beat, he pushed the doctor back. "Don't touch 'er like 'at!" He snapped, making the doctor step back farther. "Ain't you suppose to help 'em?" He held y/n's hand tightly, licking his dry lip, fat tears still falling from his blue eyes.

"Mr. Sinclair," the doctor started. "I'm Dr. Henrik. I'm only making sure your wife is getting enough fluids in her."

"The hell's wrong with my daughter?" Bo barked, his eyes wildly looking at his baby. "What's wrong with her?" Rage filled his blood. "What did ya do to 'em?" His words were like venom.

"There was some computations with both of them," Dr. Henrik said, taking the clipboard from the nurse. "We had to do an emergency caesarean section because your baby was wrapped around the umbilical cord. Mrs. Sinclair stopped breathing when your daughter was born--" Bo's eyes harden at the doctor, thoughts of murder ran over his mind like an overflowing sink "--but she pulled through. Y/n lost a lot of blood and has a badly torn abdomen. So, we had to put her under for her to rest."

Bo ran his hands over his pants nervously. "Will-will they live? Be okay?"

Dr. Henrik's eyes fell and he swallowed hard. "We'll see in the next hour, I'm afraid." Bo wanted to strangle him, force him to take back his words. Then the doctor's mood changed. "Nurse Macy will be here to take care of them," the old nurse smiled at him sadly from behind, "and I'll come back in thirty minutes with the labs and an update."

Bo wanted to punch all of Dr. Henrik's pearly white teeth in and bash his head through some glass. But his deadly thoughts left when he heard a small cry to his left, his daughter crying in the little bed. He looked between Nurse Macy, who gave him a reassuring nod, then back at his daughter. He stood over his daughter and lowered his hand to his cheek, cupping it gently, as he hushed her gently, restraining his tears from flowing down. His word was build back again as his daughter rested her head against his touch, a little hand reaching up. His other hand lower, and held out a finger for her to grab. Just like that, his shattered world was rebuilding once more.

He swallowed the rocked forming in his throat as he gave a shaky smile and laugh. "Hey-hey there, sweet pea," he cooed, brushing his hand over her soft, little brown hair. "It-it's okay. Daddy's here. Nothin' will hurt ya." He was too afraid to talk too loud around her. "Promise. No monster will gettcha." Then he closed his eyes as he started crying again, bitterness forming over his mind along with dreadful thoughts of losing his girls.

Watery eyes looked up to the ceiling, and he choked out, "God, don't take her. Don't take my girls? Take-take me instead." Then he looked down as his daughter went back to sleep again. "Take me instead."

[webslingingslasher]

Candygrams

i'm writing other things but, c'mon now, it's valentines.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Genre: fluffy

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: you send a valentine to peter and hopes he shows up.

Matt broke up with Cynthia and it was rattling the walls of Midtown High. 

Especially because it was valentines day, couples can break up any day but one would assume, birthdays, anniversaries and major holidays would be safe, no one breaks up on those days. 

Except for Matt.

Cynthia is letting the holiday play into her will. Wails coated the school, people pressured to not show love to their honey, people scared their honey will do the same. She was ripping apart flowers Matt had given her before he dumped her, a pretty brutal move on his end. 

You watched with wide eyes, mostly everyone peering over at the girl on the outskirts of campus absolutely losing it. Looking back and forth between the line and the girl you looked to the side of you at MJ, “How long until the resource guards come?” 

Cops. They were cops with a safer sounding name, but they were still cops that would detain, handcuff and transport her to somewhere under lock and key. 

“She’s absolutely batshit right now.” MJ peered at her through her sunglasses, you snorted and took a step forward. You start to peer at the menu, deciphering which flower seemed best. You heard a scream, “Matt! Don’t do this, don’t let them do this!” 

Cynthia was in a full sprint, looping in circles. Yelling out pleas to her ex while he hid his face and let out an “Oh my fucking god,” as she was trying to dodge a cop on foot and a cop in a golf cart. You’ve never seen a more interesting show on valentines, when Cynthia comes back to earth she can never show her face again. You could never live through this humiliation. 

“Hi Y/N! Hi MJ!” Betty gave an over exaggerated wave, her eyes hidden by red tinted heart sunglasses. Her earrings were dangled hearts and she wore a cupid’s arrow pin on her shirt. She looked her part, you always commend her full commitment. 

“Hey Bets! You look awesome, the booth looks even better!” MJ nods at your words, “You make valentines look classy.” 

“Aw guys! I love you both, cause today is love day!” 

MJ grimaced, she preferred to pretend she wasn’t doing this because she had a crush, but because she could. 

You smiled, glad to finally have a reason to spoil your person. 

Betty clapped her hands and got her pen ready. 

“Okay! Y/N, which flowers are you going with?” 

You point, “Secret admirer, crush and I love you.” Betty squeals and begins to cluster the flowers, different colors, each with a tag to explain what they meant to the receiver. “Would you like to write a note to send with it?” You did, and then sat for a minute trying to think of what to say. 

You settled, “If I am who you think I am, I’ll be waiting.” 

Ominus, you know. But it made sense, he would get it. Or at least you hoped he would. He should. 

“And where is this going, and who to?” 

Betty and MJ grinned at you, anxious to hear what they already knew. 

“Peter B. Parker, homeroom one oh three.” 

MJ clapped you on the shoulder, “That’s my girl. I want the yellow one, Bets. It’s for Brad.” 

You held in a laugh, you know MJ and that she’s participating means she’s smitten. However the flower she’s chosen has quite an adorable title, “I notice you,” which could be a little crush or an “hey, you’re not invisible.” 

Betty’s smile falters. “You sure that’s the one? If you want I can throw in a crush for you, on me?” MJ shakes her head, “No, I think just the yellow is fine.” 

You hear an oof, you look to the left and see Cynthia laid out. Two cops laid on top of her, screams never failing. You follow your eyes to Peter who’s watching with his fist to his mouth with Ned, he takes a sharp inhale as the bigger cop elbows her. 

He looks over and waves, you give him one back before throwing a bill at Betty and jogging to catch up. 

Peter’s eyebrows raise, “Candygrams?” 

“I did fall for the capitalist scheme.” 

Peter laughs, “I’m better than buying into all the valentines crap.” You frown slightly, sure it’s mostly junk but sometimes the meaning behind the gift has more value. 

“Because, I did my own.” He pauses to lower his backpack, Ned keeps walking. Peter unzips and digs for a moment, then pulls out a card. You can’t help the growing smile stretching across your face, “You didn’t have to.” 

He shrugs, “I wanted to.” 

You peel the page open. 

“Happy Valentine's Day, Y/N. I’m glad to have you in my life and I’m glad you make me feel like I have to write you a Valentine’s day card. It’s a feeling I haven’t had before, I’d been waiting on it for a while. Love, Peter.” 

A pout takes over your lip, Peter rolls his eyes. He’s glad you like it, but he’s pretending like he doesn’t care if you like it. 

“Peter!” You reach for a hug, he complies. You talk in his ear, he holds tighter. “Thank you, Peter. I love it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Make sure you frame it. It took me all night thinking of what to say.” He sounds joking but he’s serious. 

You are too. “Seriously, Peter. You have no idea how much this means to me.” 

But he does know, it’s that same feeling he gets at homeroom. 

He’s never had a valentine, or given one so this is pretty special for him. Peter nearly slaps himself when his name is announced for a valentine, his name was called clearly. “Peter B. Parker?” Yup, that’s him alright. 

He raises his hand shyly, half convinced it’s a prank. But it’s real, three flowers are dropped on his desk, a red, pink and white one. Each had a special meaning, he had to stop himself from taking a whiff right then. 

Then remembered it came with a note, his hands nearly shook when he opened it. 

“If I am who you think I am, I’ll be waiting.” 

He doesn’t know who he thinks you are, but he knows who he hopes you are.

So, he waits. 

He waits like he hopes you are, he’ll only be a few more minutes. 

You’ve talked about it before. The butterfly museum. 

How bad you’ve always wanted to go on a date there, how cute it sounded. You’d tell him, “to get butterflies with butterflies is the kind of on the nose I’m into.” He hummed and agreed it would be cute, because it would. You would just be so happy to be there, and he’d move heaven and earth to see you happy. 

He assumes you’re there. 

He hopes you’re there. 

Peter holds his breath when he opens the enclosure. A burst of air shoots him, then he’s surrounded. Colorful wings decorated the plants and ceiling, he’s never seen anything so beautiful. He understands why you’ve talked about it so much, how beautiful it was. 

Nearly forgetting why he’s there he tightens the hold on the flowers behind his back, the ones you’ve gifted him. Peter looks in awe and follows some butterflies as they float in front of him, he’s feeling nearly defeated. 

Maybe he has the wrong person, he assumed it was you. But he’s looked all around and couldn’t find you, he had hoped he was right. He wanted it to be you. 

He was ready to turn away, until he heard you laugh. His heart is soaring, he looks around then sees behind a bush you stand with a butterfly in your arm. You hold it in front of you and whisper, Peter can’t help the love that tugs at him. 

How delicate and gentle you are. 

He clears his throat and walks to you, he moves in right behind you. His voice is low in your ear, you jump slightly and turn. In his hand are three flowers. He stretches them out to you. 

“Tag. You’re it.” 

[fetishfairytales2]

Happy Birthday Sissy! Pt. 6 (Story)

Heather and Brandon are original characters created by @wittlesissyb4by in his fantastic series “Besties”, which this blog expands on. Please support him through his Tumblr and his SubscribeStar. ——————————————

After seeing the nursery, hearing about Brandi’s new Daddy, Connor, seeing the pictures of him and Brandi playing, and checking out the toys in Brandi’s toy box, we headed to the back door. "Are you ready to meet your little sister?" I slurred, all of us buzzed and giggly now. I swung open the door to quite the scene. Brandi looked messy, from what I could make out. Her pigtails were basically yanked out, her face was probably covered in cum, and I bet her makeup was ruined. The music was turned down and people had eased up on the drinks but were still plenty drunk.

In the circle by the pool, Brandi was totally ignored. The guys were too focused on watching Maddie and Kylie make out. "You see?" Kylie smirked at her boyfriend Brad. "I told you I'd make out with a girl." She then turned to Lyndsey and asked, "Truth or dare?" Brandi was hard to miss as she sat on Connor's lap, fidgeting and squirming with a diaper taped to her face.

"So, are these dirty or clean?" I asked, sitting down next to Connor and poking the diaper covering Brandi’s face. But Connor was too busy watching Lyndsey strip in the center of the circle. She tossed her bikini bottoms at me and spanked her own ass. "I’ll keep these as a souvenir,” I giggled, blowing her a kiss. “No getting dressed again though, I want to see that ass all night!" I was too distracted by my best friend's tits bouncing to notice why Brandi's diaper was taped to her face. "Aww, are you Daddy's little sissy cocksleeve?" I purred in Brandi's ear when I realized Connor was was forcing her down on his cock. "He's got all 10 inches jammed deep in your tight little pussy, huh?"

Connor pulled out of Brandi's ass, making the poor whimper. "No, babes," I said, pushing Brandi back onto Connor's dick. "Let her keep you hard for me until later." I winked. Grace and Sarah who had joined us and were still unsure about this whole Brandi thing. "Grace, why don't you ask truth or dare? I'm sure you have some burning questions for us." I giggled and leaned on Brandi’s shoulder, smiling as she whined.

Grace slurred, "Let's be real here, Heather. How many dicks has Brandi sucked?" All the girls tried to count, but agreed that it was probably more than all of us combined. Grace chuckled, impressed by Brandi's oral skills. "And let's be even realer," she continued, "has anyone besides Connor, like, you know...put it in her butt?" Almost all the girls and a few guys raised their hands. Brandi was quite the busy little slut, especially since two of the guys just met her today.

"Wow, she’s butt slut." I overheard Grace whisper, looking at the circle filled with hands raised. "What a pervert." She noticed Mark, my personal trainer, and couldn't help but admire his ripped chest without his shirt on. "Your hand wasn't up...did she just suck you off?" She grinned at him. The tequila must be kicking in. Grace turned to me and slurred out her final question, "Who's he?" She pointed towards Mark, giggling. Yeah, definitely the tequila talking. 

I strutted over to Mark, casually putting my arm around his shoulder. "This," I bragged, "is my personal trainer and fuck buddy, Mark. He can lift me up over his head and he's packing a massive dick. I'm talking 9 inches, swear to God." I winked at the flustered blonde. After debating if a dick can be that big, that poor girl, I urged Grace to take a closer look. I returned to Brandi and removed the diaper covering her face. “Sissy, you were just gagging on it, tell your lovely sister how big Mr. Mark’s cock is…” 

"I..." The poor thing could barely get a word out before she threw herself into a tantrum, the worst one I've seen from her. Even Grace and Sarah were surprised when she dropped to the ground. I'm sure she was trying to curse and yell, but all that came out were sobs. I knelt down and stroked her hair, still covered with cum. "Shh, shh," I cooed. "No one cares, cupcake. No one is going to save you. This is your life now. We can do it the hard way if you want, but it's happening whether you like it or not." 

I stood her up and turned her to face the crowd of tormentors. Gently, I swatted her on the bare ass and gave her a stern look. “It…it’s…” Brandi could not stop crying now and things were only getting worse for her. The tequila seemed to give Sarah courage too. She walked directly up to Brandi and flicked her puny little pink chastity cage as it dangled from underneath her sissy pink party dress.

"Is that your dick dude? Really?” Sarah giggled, still very drunk. “No wonder your girlfriend fucks other guys. I bet his cock,” she slurred, pointing at Mark, “is ten times the size of this…thing." Sarah laughed as she flicked Brandi's shrunken clit. I watched surprised as she grabbed Brandi and dragged her to where Grace was sitting. "Do you really jerk off to us, you pathetic freak?" Sarah screamed, pushing Brandi to the ground. Lyndsey gave me a look of disbelief before bursting into laughter. So much to catch her up on.

Grace leaned in close, glaring down at Brandi. "Come on girlie, tell me," she mocked, turning to Mark with a wicked smile. "Dish it. How big is he?" There was a long, awkward silence as Brandi tried to find the words to respond. "Ugh!" Grace rolled her eyes. "You have always been so useless. Fine, I'll just have to go find out for myself." Without another word, Grace strutted over to the alpha male, never taking her eyes off of him. "Hey there," she purred, batting her lashes. "Mind if I join you?" Grace sat in his lap and wrapped her arm around his neck. “Mmm, I see,” she giggled, wiggling her ass in Mark’s lap.

"Alright ladies," I grinned, turning to Sarah. "It's my turn now, isn't it? Sarah, I have a little dare for you." I ran my eyes up and down her body, she was definitely looking hot as hell. Both Grace and Sarah were killing it in their scandalous sundresses. Grace may have had a killer ass, but Sarah's tits were absolutely popping. Damn, I needed to slow down on the drinks or I might do something Brandi really didn't like. "Sarah, I dare you," I pulled my head out of the gutter, "to go assist Grace," I smirked. It was a risk, I had no idea how far was too far. But I had a feeling these two were closet freaks.

I was so excited seeing Brandi's terrified expression. The poor thing was really scared that these two were in on my little game. I caught Sarah looking at Grace, who was whispering and giggling with Mark. Sarah then turned to me and gave a smirk, saying "Ew bitch." I could see the wheels turning in her head. Oh shit, she really may play along! "Assist? Please, I bet I can figure it out first!" Sarah was so excited she skipped over to Mark and Grace, pushing her sister to on side and taking a seat on his lap too. Her hands roamed down Mark's chest and all she could utter was a weak "oh, wow."

I watched as poor little Brandi's brain melted watching Grace and Sarah throwing themselves at a real man. "Your sisters are wild, huh?" I taunted, knowing that her mind was probably too fucked up to even listen to what I was saying. But that didn't stop me from rubbing it in. "Let's see just how wild they can get, hmm?" I cooed in her ear. "Maybe if they have a good enough time, they'll come back for more!" I stroked Brandi's hair and held her head in place, making sure she couldn't look away from Mark. "Don't worry, sweetie," I whispered, "it was inevitable. I sort of promised these guys a week of blowjobs, from you of course, if they managed to fuck either of your hot ass sisters.” I pushed her head back, watching her sob and wail silently. “Looks like Mr. Mark will be getting two weeks of blowies." 

Kylie let out a sexy giggle and leaned in to give Brad a kiss. "Should we go for one more round?" Lyndsay eagerly looked between Kylie and I. "Brandi, I dare you," she said with a wicked smile, not even bothering to wait for our answers. She motioned for the sissy to climb over her lap, her smile almost too sweet. But Brandi was too distracted, still watching Mark's hand creep under the girls' dresses. Lyndsey grew impatient and grabbed Brandi by the hair, pulling her up. "Get over here, fuckface," she groaned, dragging her over to both her and Shawn's laps.

Kylie, Brad, Shawn, Connor, and I were all hanging out and chatting while Lyndsay playfully spanked Brandi just because. "These are your birthday spankings, you little slut!" Lyndsay smirked She would talk to us casually between each set of spankings. I was a little distracted watching Mark and the girls; they were having way a lot fun. Through the sounds of the spanking and Brandi's cries, I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation. It sounded like Mark was settling a little debate between the two sisters on who had the nicer ass. "No, no silly little sissy slut," Lyndsay scolded Brandi, getting my attention again, as he tried to hide his face in her lap.

"You better keep your eyes on them, sissy," Lyndsay hissed, gripping Brandi's hair and forcing her to stare as Mark and the girls explored each other. "And pay close attention!" *spank* *spank* *spank*. Lyndsay was panting by the time she finished punishing Brandi, allowing the exhausted sissy to rest against her. Ten minutes later, Brandi was being idly throat fucked by Shawn while Lyndsay held him in place. "Deeper whore! Gag on Mr. Shawn's cock!" I smiled watching Mark stroll off with the girls heading to the house - well, that was easier than expected!

[columbiastapshoes]

headcanons part 3‼️‼️ crazy‼️

hey guys it’s me the person with the regular posting schedule and normal amount of thoughts about this movie! woo hoo! this one is a bit shorter, my sk8 hyperfixation has been completely taking over my brain LMAO but without further ado here u go!

-columbia has a stuffed animal that she is extremely emotionally bonded to. i’d like to think it’s a rabbit with big floppy ears and it’s made out of that kind of rough towel-like texture ykwim?? but anyways she’s had it since she was little and it’s so dirty and has no stuffing in its neck anymore but she refuses to fix or clean it and just carries it around everywhere

-magenta fucking loves earth candy. homegirl is trying to keep up the “i hate this planet it has no redeeming qualities” act but as soon as someone walks into the room with gummy bears she goes absolutely feral

-frank is scared of cats. yes, i know he has the mannerisms of a cat and that is why it’s funnier to me that when he sees a cat he will just leave the room. but also he’s not like an “AAAAAAHHHH A CAAAT THATS SO SCAARRRYYY” person like he’s trying to be subtle about it and won’t admit to being scared but it doesn’t fool anyone

-brad LOVES 50s love songs and also jazz of all kinds. stole this bit from a fanfic but his nickname for frank is sinatra :3 but anyways he’s always playing an ella fitzgerald or doris day vinyl and humming along to the melody while he reads or does other stuff

-frank either wakes up at 5 am or 2 pm. no in between.

-is columbia a dancer? yes. does she use those skills when she’s just dancing to music by herself? absolutely not. she bounces to the beat like a toddler. i love her.

-frank again :3 that bitch absolutely has pierced ears, belly button, and tongue. the movie isn’t canon and i know what i’m talking about <3

-magenta is goth most of the time but when it gets really hot and she cannot survive in all black she gives up and goes whimsigoth with purples and dusty pinks and browns <3

-rip columbia u would have loved electro swing

-ever wondered how riff got that hunch in his back? i have the answer! when he and magenta were little he tried to cut her hair while she was sleeping and she judo flipped him and it just never healed properly

-i could have sworn i posted this one before but i can’t find it? so im just gonna say it now- after the movie events (in my brain no one dies and brad and janet unofficially move in let me have this) janet is trying so hard to be supportive of everybody and im picturing her and magenta as that customwoodburning clip that’s like “are you a les-bin?” “yes ma’am i am” “AWESOME‼️‼️‼️ 🔥🔥🔥”

-magenta is a witch and has an altar in her room, the first time brad went in there he accidentally bumped into it and was scared that the spirits were gonna be mad and kill him and magenta was jokingly like “yeah. ur dead” and he was like “oh no D:” and she had to clarify it was a joke

-frank reads erotic novels at the dinner table and comments on them out loud 🫶

-columbias favorite animal is a jellyfish. i have no reasoning but nell campbell indirectly talked to me and i have been hyperfixated on this movie for over 2 years so u can trust me on this one