#That's gonna leave a mark pal

[seldompathic]

Big ouch :((

[bigfatbimbo]

Take a Bite

1.5k words,, Bill Cipher x Reader

summary — Bill and the reader have sex, which has proven to be very difficult seeing as he isn’t doing anything, and, of course, things are never easy with that insufferable brat.

warnings — SMUT, bill being annoying and toxic, dom!reader, sub!Bill, heavy pain kink, bill’s human form, the fat fuck not the twink

a/n — Admittedly, this fic only happened because I never see Bill sub in fanfics and i’m very interested in what the dynamic would be. You’d be like… domming with a risk of death.

“Well, slick,” Bill leaned back and gestured up and down his body, “Give it your all.”

Amusement was thick in his voice, along with bubbling giddiness. He fumbled with the seams on his pants, not out of nervousness, but as if he had forgotten how to take them off and was looking for some kind of zipper. One, admittedly, that he would not find on slacks. 

“Wow, human clothes are just as bad as the fleshbags. So needlessly complicated,” He sounded on the verge of a laughing fit, “Oh, and toots? Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.” 

His amusement was not matched on your part. The situation invoked dull curiosity at best, in your opinion. The idea of harboring a wanted criminal, ex-overlord, god-like demon in your house challenged your idea of a good time. Having sex with that demon was even harder to swallow.

Then again, any situation with bill warranted an ungodly amount of stress. 

“Whatcha’ thinking about over there, sweet-cheeks?”

You smiled at that; of the few advantages you have, being in gravity falls for weirdmageddon proved to be one of them. You know of his powers, and with that, vague guesses on how to prevent them.

Tinfoil-lined bobbie pins were one of them. A guess, granted, but a good one at that. Really, not that complicated when you recall every alien movie you’ve ever watched. 

“Upset you can’t tell?” 

He laughed, “Upset for you, maybe. Trust me, it’d be so much easier for both of us if I could just read your thoughts. I’m already your roommate, how much closer could we ge- Ah.”

You brushed his pants crotch, and began to unbutton. For all his mightiness, the guy couldn’t work pants. “Careful, human body’s are touchy.” 

“Touchy,” He repeated, “Tell me about.” 

Getting his pants off was a task harder than it should have been, no thanks to Bill, who seemed to have taken to just lying there, occasionally flicking you, and then himself. 

When you finally peeled all of his clothes off, you warned him to brace himself, to which he ignored you. On top of that, the entire time Bill had been talking, droning on about ‘the last time he’d been in a human body.’

You wondered vaguely if he’d ever done this with someone else. In the time he’d been at your house he’d mentioned some ‘sixer’ ex-thing-ish of his. But you doubt he’d done anything with him.

As he’d mentioned, he hadn’t perfected his human form until very recently. Perfected is a strong word, he was pudgy and short, remanisent of a human peanut. And his teeth were terrible. 

Either way, you’d gotten him ready, and began your work. Laying a light finger on the tip of his dick, and running it down the base of his length, you got Bills first reaction: a short sniff.

Recovering fast, he adjusted his seat, “Yeah, tick tock, toots. This better be good.” 

It was his idea, you thought, but continued. Your fingers wrapped around the entirety of his cock and you began to stroke it. 

A sigh left Bills mouth, “Oh, this does have a kick to it. Maybe you’re not so bad, after all.”

Over the course of the next few minutes, you’d grow angrier and angrier. Although you were clearing making him feel good, he’d never shut his snide mouth for two seconds. 

“Jesus, slow down, pal— I just perfected this flesh-bag, at this rate your gonna break something—“ 

You didn’t realize how much your hand sped up. You thought for a moment, before completely stopping. Bill looked taken aback.

“Hey! what’s the—“

Without warning you grabbed his dick with full force and squeezed. He yelped, before giggling at the hurt.

This made you more mad, “God, do you ever shut up? I wish you’d lost your voice when you lost Gravity Falls.”

He stopped giggling. “I’d watch what you say, if I was you, kid.”

You threw your head back and laughed, running your hand slowly up his dick and then slamming back to the base of his cock. Finally, a reaction other than knowing bliss: anger. Weakness.

“Oh dear god, rearrange the features of my face then, Billy. See if I give a shit when you don’t have a place to live.”

His face turned red with rage, and he recoiled at the mention of your upperhand. And then, finally, at the slowing of your hand, a small, wavering whimper. 

You both caught it, and he was quick to put a hand of his mouth, “Sensitive human bodies - Hey, don’t look at me like that, that was not my fault.”

“God, you’re such a brat.”

“Oh please, what are you gonna do about it?” And he was completely serious.

Without much hesitation, you took the moment as an opportunity to abruptly sink yourself onto his dick. He sucked in a breath but you didn’t give him much time to do anything else.

“Ah- Now we’re talki—“ You slapped him hard across the face, and grabbed his cheeks with your hand, squishing them together, mockingly. Stifled laughter from Bill. 

“This is the form you spent all that time perfecting? I can barely feel anything. It’s worthless!” You sped up riding him, loosening your face to give the illusion you were bored, “You’re worthless.” 

His eyebrows arched down and his eyes widened, “I can kill you with a snap of my fingers! You think I need this sex— You think I need this hous— ah, ah—“

The unknown pleasure was getting to him, making his brain foggier than usual, and it was showing. Human senses were a key factor in your ability to keep the high-ground. Just as long as it felt good enough, he wouldn’t go back to his original form and… well. 

You wondered vaguely if you were actually going to be in mortal parole after this. But then again, the look on his face was almost euphoric, despite the anger. Thankfully, Bill was selfish, he’d probably chase the high again

You sighed, “Oh, you do need this house, Billy. Where else would you go? Everyone else in town has already forgotten about you, and your little maniac friends are no where to be seen.”

You sped up once more as your hands danced up his body, and continued, “With this whole out-of-sight-out-of-mind routine, i’m giving you something you won’t be getting anywhere else: attention.”

“You— Ah, curse this feeble human body! I’ll make your life a living hell-“ He whined, actually whined. 

Slamming yourself down on him, he cried out and then scowled. You raked your nails down his chest, deep enough to bleed, drawing out a  giggle from Bill as he felt the littlest bit of blood start to pool.

“You’re lucky this meatbag is— ah— funny enough—“ He was cut off with a gargle as a your hand sharply wrapped around his throat, and squeezed tight. 

“It’s not luck, i’m good at what I do, Billy. Not that you would know what that’s like, you pathetic shitbag,” although that insult wasn’t particularly true, you didn’t give him a chance to snap back, and instead put your other hand on his neck as well. 

You rode him with more speed than ever now. His eyes fluttered open and shut slowly, and he leaned into your hands. 

His face flushed, but a dreamy smile spread to the edges of his face as you made sure to leave bruise marks on his throat, still slamming against him. 

Although, you didn’t want to actually break him, so when his face began to turn purple, you let go. He gasped for air and let out a raspy, crazed giggle that went on for too long, and ending in a moan.

“I’m— “ Bills eyebrows furrowed, as if he was trying to decipher what the amusing thing the human body had planned next, “Somethings— somethings happening.”

His voice was broken, neck bruised, cheek red with a slap mark, eyes foggy, and chest bleeding from your nails. 

Before you dig in, remember to leave marks. I wanna see how durable this thing is.

Clearly you’d kept your end of the deal, and from what you’ve gathered it was time for the finale. You chased your own climax now as well, even though, admittedly, you hadn’t been thinking about it the whole session.

Annoying as it was that Bill still managed to make something all about him —and he definitely knew, mind reading or not— you still kept up your pace. 

“You’re close?” 

He smiled blissfully, and nodded.

What the hell. You smiled, “Good boy.”

His reaction was… startling. He leaned his head back, let out a small half-whine half-laugh, and arched off the bed. Finally, he released.

[merakidoll]

Doll — Gojo S.

✧.* black chubby reader! ditzy / bimbo reader! pen pal gojo. yander gojo! riding, vaginal sex, mentions of dildos, reader has love handles and stretch marks. captivation, reader loves pink! obsessed gojo!

mirah note — hiya! i love this dabble so much and do plan to make more on this pair :) i used to have a series about them, and how exactly they met but have since deactivated that page, but my love for them had came back hard!

after months of letters, and video calls, the short vists and everlasting day dreams. gojo was right where he wanted to be. he had dreamed of this exact moment in many different scenarios, many different settings, but none of those visions were quite as good as the actual thing.

“what else babydoll?” his hand ran through his white hair, icey blue eyes starting at the women who lost control on his cock. his hands squeezed her pretty little love handles, pads of his thumb rubbing over the stretch marks, ears alert and in awe at the beauty of her whines and hiccups- that he was the cause of.

“d-daddy! l-like em’ s’much! w-wanna k-kiss em’ all t-the time” she told gojo all of the things he had been yarning to hear, feeding into his obsession even more. making the need to hold her captive just for him overpower the good guy in him.

bucking up into the wet, tight pussy, he put his hands on the back of her head and pushed her into his shoulder. her teeth immediately caught ahold of the skin tight black t bitting down onto it. gojo used his feet and pushed himself down more into the couch and began bouncing his pretty doll.

“that’s what my’good girl needed mmm” once he knew she wasn’t going to move her head, he grabbed ahold of the fat ass cheeks using them to bounce her harder, faster. her voice vibrating, words and rambles no longer able to come out.

“daddyd-daddyyyy” she chanted his name over and over her puffy pussy tighten in a way it never had on the pink dildos she used to practice on. “gonna breed my pretty baby, stuff m’cunt so. fucking. full.” the room grew hotter while the highs approached. gojo’s talking got more dirty, more nasty. while your mind only got filled with the thoughts of cumming.

it wasn’t long before your slick covered his large cock. your body growing tired as he shushed you to sleep while filling you with the white, gooey, seamen. after he washed your body carefully, mumbling to himself how beautiful you were, he put you in the pink room a nightgown clinging to your body. and tied your hands tightly with the silk baby pink rope.

“welcome home baby doll” he whispered leaving a soft kiss on your forehead, before walking away.

[cosmicdahlias]

What You Deserve

a ford x reader fic

MINORS DNI

warnings: HEAVY NONCON, smut, possession

i really went wild on this one i hope y’all enjoy

Ford has been worrying you lately. His sleep schedule is erratic, he barely eats, and it seems like he’s always talking to someone that isn’t there. But there is someone, you’ve come to know him as Bill.

In Ford’s words Bill is his muse, his inspiration. You hadn’t questioned it at first, it kept him so driven. But now things were different, Ford wasn’t quite the same as when you first met him.

You’ve never spoken directly to Bill, only when he speaks through Ford via possession. You never let Ford know but it terrifies you to see Ford so unlike himself. He turns wild, dangerous, unpredictable. Sometimes disappearing for days at a time and returning with no recollection of what transpired. One time coming back sporting a tattoo of a star on his neck that he had no memory of getting, but a tattoo was the least of your worries.

You’ve started to hate Bill for what he’s done to your partner. You fear the day that you turn on the news and see that the local mysterious scientist in the woods has turned up dead.

You secretly love him too. He captivated you, perhaps that’s why you cared so much. If he was just your coworker it wouldn’t keep you up as often as it did. You wanted to take him away from all of this, to just kiss him and tell him that there was more to life than being Bill’s puppet.

These thoughts consumed your mind as you sat at your desk going over your research notes. You were so in your head that you didn’t sense the looming presence behind you.

A hand grasped your shoulder, you jumped nearly a foot out of your chair. It was Ford.

“JESUS Christ, Ford. A little warning next time?” You gasped.

He released his hand. “Oh dear I’m sorry I hadn’t realized I’d scare you like that, you just looked so wrapped up in your own thoughts. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

You huffed. “Yeah, it’s just… I have a lot on my mind right now.”

“Oh? Perhaps I can take your mind off things.”

“How so?” You asked.

“Well for starters sweetheart I can rip off those clothes.” He cooed.

“What?” You stammered.

“You heard me.”

You blushed, this was so unlike him. “Ford are you feeling okay?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never felt more like myself.”

It was then you noticed his eyes, the yellow tint and catlike pupils. Your heart sank. Bill.

“I know it’s you Bill. What do you want?” You spat through gritted teeth.

“I’m just doing old sixer here a favor. I’ve seen inside his mind and I know what he thinks about you. Thing is, he’s too damn shy to just go for it. So I figured, why not do it for him?”

You felt like a rock just sank to the pit of your stomach, you knew what that meant. Your thoughts quickly screamed at you to defend yourself. You knew you had a small knife in the drawer of your desk, but could you grab it before Ford, rather, Bill reached you?

You decided to take the risk, you shot up and darted your hand to the drawer, pulling it open. You quickly grabbed the knife and held it out in front of you. Your hands trembled.

Bill laughed coldly “That’s cute of you, but here’s the thing, you try hurting me and you’re just gonna kill Fordsy. And we wouldn’t want that now would we?”

Before you could say anything Ford descended on you, coming up behind you his hands gripping your wrists and wrestling the knife out of your grasp.

“Now listen to me toots, we’re gonna have some fun on behalf of my good old pal here. You can struggle all you want, but I think you and I both know he’s a lot bigger and stronger than you.” He said, running the knife against your throat.

You felt his teeth sink into your neck, rough kisses left at every bite mark, his hands traveling up and down your body. He hooked the knife underneath your clothes and began to tear away at the fabric, leaving your top half exposed.

You wanted to run, to scream, to cry, but you knew it would be in vain. Where would you run? To whom would you scream or cry to? You were all alone in a shack in the middle of the woods with a man possessed by a twisted demon.

The knife slowly cut away at your skirt, next your bra and panties. Ford kept a hand on your waist, the other still holding a knife to your throat.

“Now,” he said, his fingers massaging your breasts “I’m going to have my way with you.” His voice sent a cold chill down your spine.

In one quick motion Ford spun you around and forced you to the floor, hands holding down your wrists.

“But first, I think Ford deserves a good look at my work, don’t you?”

As you looked up at Ford you saw his eyes return to their normal whites and rounded pupils. He looked down at you, confused, then the horror set in.

“Y/n, what are you- oh god no, Bill what have you done?”

Before he could even remove his hands from your wrists his head snapped back violently, when he returned his gaze to you it was with the same terrifying look, Bill had retaken control.

Keeping a hand on your wrist he began to wrestle with his belt.

“I’ll never understand you humans and your complicated clothing.”

He slipped his pants low enough to reveal his cock, which was dripping with precum. You tried hard to fight against him but your efforts were in vain, Bill was right, Ford was stronger.

Sharply and violently he slid himself into you all the way to the base. You screamed from the pain and Ford let out a loud groan. He began to thrust hard and fast, growling and breathing heavily into the crook of your neck.

“Ah fuck, now I see why sixer wanted this so bad.” He hissed.

You felt your will begin to fade, you were stuck like this, there was nothing you could do, no one was coming to save you.

“I think Ford should feel this too, I never know if he feels anything I’m doing.”

His eyes reverted again, they widened.

“No no no, dear god, make it stop. I’m so sorry, y/n.”

Ford tried to fight it, he struggled to get himself off of you but Bill began to take hold again.

“Fordsy might be sorry, but I’m not. Quite frankly I always feel like you’re getting in the way of things, perhaps this will teach you to stay away.”

He resumed his brutal pace, the loud slapping echoing through the lab accompanied by his grunts and your whimpers. All you could see was his yellow eyes and wicked smile. This was pure hell, you wanted Ford, but not like this, never like this.

He could feel himself getting close, he grabbed your legs and hooked them over his shoulders. His nails dug into the soft flesh of your calves.

“Hahhh, hahhhh. I’m going to… make you regret ever agreeing to work with Ford. You’re gonna… keep your distance. You hear me?”

Tears began to stream down your face, you started to hope that Bill would just kill you after he was done.

Ford was fucking you at a punishing speed, as he forced a hand to your throat Bill released him right as he began to cum. Ford let out a deafening moan and his whole body shook. Everything went white for a few seconds, when his vision returned he was greeted with a frightening visual beneath him.

Ford let you go and backed up against the wall, he had to focus all of his attention on not vomiting.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

All you could do was lay on the floor, nothing felt real. Ford took off his trench coat and wrapped you in it. Tears began to fall down his face.

“I’m so sorry, y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”

[miffysrambles]

Protective! Macaque with S/O OneShot

(Warning (?) : This one gets kind of intense with the themes of being harassed, I didn't know if that needed a warning but just to be safe!)

You were backed into a corner of an empty alleyway as you were pleading with the creepy stranger to leave you alone already.

“I-I said please leave me alone, I’m not interested!” You frowned up at him as he pressed one of his palms against the brick wall from your response of trying to walk away from him.

You were beyond uncomfortable at this point, he had followed you to isolate you for gods sake!

You were only on your way to the small theater to see your boyfriend after work, apparently the stranger saw you walking on the sidewalk and decided he wanted to pursue you.

“Aww come on sweetheart, I could treat you better than anyone ever could.” He winked down at you, making your stomach and heart feel like it’s been punched. 

You realized this guy wasn’t going to take no or stop for an answer, deciding your best option was to make a run for it so you weren’t isolated and around other people for help.

The creep saw you shift to the side, knowing what you were going to do next as he grabbed you by the wrist as you ducked underneath his arm.

You cried out as his grip tightened around your waist, “Where you going sweetheart, I’m not done with you yet.”

You squirmed in his grasp as you struggled to get him to let you go, your fingers trying to make his grip loosen.

This only made his fingers grip tighter, making you seethe in the squeezing pain.

“Heh, you’re cute when you struggle like…”

His words trailed off as his eyes locked above you instead of into yours, a low growl emitting from above your head.

“Get you hand off of them before I rip it off your arm…”

Oh dear Gods.

The creep quickly released your wrist, making you rub the red finger marks around your limb as it already started to bruise.

Your boyfriend Macaque had appeared in your shadow, poking his head out from a portal above you as he used another to rise from the ground to appear in front of you to defend you.

He looked behind him to see he had left bruises on your wrist as you seethed in pain.

Macaque saw red as he felt raw anger pulse through his form.

He hurt you.

HE HURT YOU.

In a flash, Macaque grabbed the creep by the shirt collar and pinned him to the wall on the opposite side of you.

“On second thought, I should rip you apart limb from limb for even laying one of your disgusting fingers on them.”

The creep’s smug composure was long gone, now replaced with shivering fear as he pleaded with Macaque to leave him alone.

The simian gritted his fangs as he raised his fist to land a blow to his face, wanting to make sure he wiped that horrid smug expression off of him for the rest of his days.

He was stopped as your soft voice called out to him, snapping him out of his enraged state as he looked back at you.

“I… I just want to go home.”

Macque looked back at the creep as he growled once more, “You got lucky pal, if I ever see you even dare to look at my partner I’ll rip your eyes out myself.”

Your boyfriend let go of the creep’s collar as he scurried off, you wouldn’t need to worry about him coming back because if you were in his shoes you wouldn’t.

Macaque never went back on his words when it came to you.

He ran over to you as he gently took your bruised wrist into his palm, pressing a loving kiss against the mark.

“That son of a bitch was lucky you stopped me, I’ll tell you that much.” He muttered against your skin.

You smiled as he scooped you up into his arms as he summoned another portal to take you home, landing on your couch as he pressed his lips against your own.

“I’m gonna stay with you tonight, is that ok starshine?” His low voice asked, making you smile once more as you nodded. 

“Of course hon, I’d actually really like that.”

He sighed in relief as he laid back on the arm of the couch, pulling you close to his chest as he kissed your forehead and held you like someone was trying to take you away from him.

Macaque wanted nothing more than to keep you close to him as much as possible tonight, seeing someone make you so scared and uncomfortable ignited the protective urge in him.

No one was every gonna mess with his sugarplum ever again, he was gonna make sure of that. 

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 7,252 (oof, this one got long!) Pairing: Negan Smith x Reader Reader pronouns: largely unspecified (but Negan does refer to reader as doll and darling which could be considered more feminine terms of endearment) Warnings: language haha, frightening scenarios, references to past violence Summary: Months have now passed since Y/N began taking on Negan as a "project" and the reader suggests an even longer run outside the walls. A/N: This is part of a series! Find all the parts on the Negan Master List. Previous Part here! “It’s been months,” you said. “There hasn’t been a single time that I’ve felt unsafe, and both of you know I never let my guard down.”

Daryl was leaning up against the wall beside the door, his arms crossed over his chest. His expression was serious but largely unreadable. Michonne leaned forward on the table, considering your words.

“We need to think long-term here. Are we just going to keep him locked up forever? Or is there some version of this where he gets out and either integrates as much as possible or—or goes on his way?”

Michonne sighed and shook her head. “I’m not sure any of us have the answer to that yet,” she said.

“I know. I still don’t,” you said. “I’m not sure what the future looks like for him, but I know we have to do more than just letting him out to pick tomatoes every once in a while. So, that’s what I’m doing. And with you two stuck here dealing with the wall and the kids—and the pantry and medical supplies starting to run low, well… let’s kill two birds with one stone.”

Daryl sighed and straightened up. “I ain’t gonna say I like it, but I trust ya and I’ve seen your judgment play out too many times to doubt it. If ya think it’ll be alrigh’, then—well, ‘m good with it. But ya gotta show us exactly where you’ll be and when to expect ya back in case we need to come lookin’.”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll mark it all on the map. We should be able to make it out and back in a single long day. Leave early. Get back late.”

“And no weapons for him unless it’s an absolute emergency,” Michonne emphasized.

“Of course,” you agreed.

“Alright,” Michonne nodded. “When will you go?”

“Tomorrow,” you said. “I’ll get everything ready today.”

“I’ll walk ya out,” Daryl drawled, watching as you grabbed your bag and shouldered it. “Listen—” he started.

You looked over at him and smiled, already knowing you were about to get a worried Daryl Dixon lecture. “Mhm?” you prompted him.

“The hell are ya smirkin’ about?” he growled, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing,” you laughed. “Go ahead.”

“Well—if somethin’ happens out there… if it comes down to you or him…” he trailed off.

Your brow furrowed deeply now to match his. “It won’t,” you said seriously.

He shifted anxiously. “But if it does…”

“Daryl. It’s not going to,” you insisted.

He relented and nodded, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. “Okay. C’mere.” He pulled you into a hug and you smiled as he folded you up against him. “I just want ya to be safe, is all.” “I know. I will,” you agreed.

He nodded, pulling back. “Wish I could go with ya… I’d feel better about it.”

“I know. But it’s going to be fine. You’ll see.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“You’re shitting me, right?” Negan said, his breakfast still in his hand, not a single bite taken.

You stared at him and then let out a dry laugh. “That’s not exactly the reaction I was expecting,” you said.

“Well, shit. I mean… a real scavenging trip? That’s what you’re saying?” Negan said. He ran a hand back through his hair and stood, pacing a tight circle in his cell. “Who else is going?”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Why? Someone specific you want me to invite? Want me to ask your old pal Gabriel? Or wait—Eugene?”

He laughed but looked vaguely shocked. “Well, I’m sorry but I’m just—a little fuckin’ surprised, doll.” You’d eased some on scolding Negan for the pet names over the last few weeks and generally just ignored them now unless it was something really egregious. (You’d nearly hit him for calling you ‘princess’ one day, so he had at least not tried that again.) He seemed to enjoy taking full advantage of you turning a deaf ear to them now. “Just you and me? Out there?” he clarified.

“You and I have already been out there alone how many times, hmm? I don’t see why this should be any different,” you said, digging around in your pack.

“Well, it’s farther. I mean, farther for you to get help if—”

You straightened up and fixed a skeptical gaze on him. “If what? If you suddenly decide to attempt to murder me? Attack me? Steal the car and leave me out there? I’ll still be armed and you won’t. Besides, I’ve been through more shit out there than—”

He laughed again. “I was just gonna say in case any number of bad fuckin’ things happens out there. And we both know that they do.”

“Yeah. You used to be one of those bad things, remember?” you shot back quickly. He sighed at your deflection and you couldn’t help but laughing. “I am having to sell this harder to you than I did to Michonne and Daryl. What is going on? What are you worried about?”

“I’m not worried! Although, it would be fuckin’ nice to have something to defend myself with in case of the dead or unexpected assholes…”

“ ‘Unexpected Assholes’?” you repeated. “What is that, your one man play?” you quipped. “Let me guess—you’ll be playing yourself.”

Negan couldn’t resist a hearty laugh at that, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s good. You’re fuckin’ hilarious as usual, doll.” But he looked serious again the next moment. “Anyway, about me having some way to defend myself…”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” you said lazily. “I’ll let you have, like, a stick if you want,” you smirked. He only stared back at you. “I told you that I’ll protect you! You think I’m just gonna let a walker wander up and bite you?” There was a thick silence for a moment where he just stared back at you.

“I’m not worried about one walker. I’m worried about all the random, rogue shit that can happen out there.”

“Well, you’re just going to have to trust me! Do you not want to go or what?” you pressed him, perplexed at his reaction.

He paused, drew in a deep breath, and let it out. Then that damn smirk showed back up on his face, sending his hazel eyes sparkling. “Are you asking if I want to go spend some quality time alone with you? Just the two of us? No one to interrupt… Completely at your mercy for whatever you may decide to do with me… or to me…”

You rolled your eyes, catching onto his tone immediately. “That could include killing you,” you cautioned him, eliciting a low laugh from him. You hated that the deep gravel of it gave you goosebumps. You did your best to ignore it.

“I don’t know… I’m starting to think this is just a ploy to get away with me where nobody can easily interrupt us,” Negan said. “I mean, shit. No need hide your true intentions from me,” he grinned. “I am absolutely 110% on board with that. Use me all you want, doll,” he grinned, now gripping the bars of his cell door. “God, I’d love to be fuckin’ used by you.”

You crossed your arms and fixed a stern look on him, hoping that your face wasn’t flushing bright red. You cleared your throat. “Sounds more like wishful thinking on your part. It’s a scavenging run, Negan, not a fucking romantic getaway,” you said.

“Are you sure you said that right? I think you meant romantic fucking getaway. Emphasis on the—”

“Negan! Stop! I will cancel this whole thing! Jesus Christ!”

That shit-eating grin was still on his face and he laughed again, thoroughly pleased with himself. “Alright, alright. I’m done. I think…”

You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed. “Scavenging. Run.” you repeated.

“Yeah, we’ll see, doll. We’ll see. So, where are we going exactly?”

You forged ahead, ignoring his last comments in favor of moving on. “There are some old houses and other structures we’ve only ever done a cursory search of. Probably not going to make a huge score but there’s always something left behind, something hidden. But who knows? Maybe we’ll get lucky,” you said.

“Fuck me, I’d love to get lucky…” he laughed again.

“Negan!” you exclaimed again.

“Alright! I’m sorry,” he chuckled.

“So, are you in?” you asked, slightly exasperated.

The two of you were separated by only the iron bars and a small buffer of space, hardly a foot. He was still smiling at you and you hated that the thought that he was handsome flickered through your mind. It wasn’t the first time you’d thought it—but the thought always surprised you, like it came from somewhere outside of yourself, not by your conjuration alone. “Fuck yes, I’m in,” he answered, interrupting your thoughts.

“You promise to listen to everything I say? If I tell you to run, if I tell you to hide—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I promise,” he said, smiling. “If I don’t, you’ll shoot me in the fuckin’ knee or some shit. Can we skip the pep talk?”

You gave him a stern look but unlocked his cell and tossed him the spare pack you’d brought. You dug into your own bag and handed him some supplies, including some outerwear. He tucked them into his bag and looked up at you expectantly. “Where to, warden?”

You rolled your eyes again but couldn’t help the tiniest smirk. “Car is right outside. Let’s get going. The sun is starting to come up and it could be a long day.”

“Great. Can I drive?” he quipped, shouldering his bag. You only shot him a look that made him laugh again, but he saw the slight curve at the corners of your mouth.

The drive to the crumbling ruins of the neighborhood was slow, but uneventful. The sun was up and filtering through the trees overhead as you and Negan climbed out and started toward the buildings. You were quiet, focused, and Negan couldn’t help admiring your efficiency and care as you went about your mission.

The two of you stopped at the edge of the crumbling street, concealed in some taller brush. The street was overgrown with weeds and lined with dilapidated houses. It was almost eerily quiet.

“Alright,” you breathed quietly. “We’ll go building by building, down one side and back up the other. Pay attention to signs of walkers or people,” you said softly, gripping the straps of your pack. “Follow my lead and stay close.”

“You got it,” Negan replied, slipping his hands into his pockets as he followed alongside you toward the first house. “I gotta say, it is really uncomfortable being out here without a damn weapon. More so here than in the woods,” he commented, his eyes shifting around to study the other buildings, scrutinizing for a sign of movement. “I feel like I’m naked,” he said.

“I guarantee—” You paused to tap on the wall of the house the two of you were standing beside, listening for anything inside. “You’re not. If you were naked, I would not be this fuckin’ calm, Negan,” you said, half-distracted.

He chuckled and licked his bottom lip, smirking.

“What?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“I don’t think that sounded how you meant it to sound,” he laughed.

Your cheeks flushed. “Oh, shut up. You know what I meant!”

“Your brain is saying one thing but your lips are sayin’ another, darlin’,” he teased you.

You rolled your eyes and pulled the front door open, stepping cautiously inside. The smell was of mildew and stagnant air as you stepped inside. A heavy layer of dust and dirt coated everything; overturned furniture, books standing or tipped over on shelves, a stately chair still positioned in front of the fireplace. Somewhere deeper in the house, water was dripping. You had your gun out and started clearing the lower floors. Negan ghosted behind you.

You made for the staircase to check the upstairs when there was a soft thump overhead. Your eyes and Negan’s went to the ceiling.

“Alright… maybe someone is home after all,” he commented, giving you a concerned look.

“It’s gotta be a walker,” you said. “Maybe an animal.” You proceeded cautiously toward the staircase.

“Hey,” Negan said softly. “Be careful.”

You turned and looked at him for a long moment before you started up the stairs. He seemed genuinely on edge, worried. He stayed right on your heels as you climbed the steps, the muscle in his jaw tensed as his teeth clenched together.

You cleared two bedrooms and finally came to a closed door at the end of the hall. As the floor creaked under your boots, there was the sound of more movement behind the door. You reached for the door knob, gun ready in your other hand. You took a deep breath and quickly turned it shoving the door open and aiming the muzzle of your pistol inside.

An opossum let out an angry hiss and then scrambled up and out of a broken window. It had been rooting around in some debris on the floor. A huge sigh of relief escaped you and Negan watched your shoulders sag. You laughed a little as you turned to look back at Negan. He gave you a relieved look.

“I gotta be honest,” he said. “I fuckin’ hate this shit. I feel completely helpless without something to use if something bad happens. What am I supposed to do if you need help?”

You gave him a somewhat sympathetic look, thinking about how it would feel to be in his place—the unknown behind every locked door with no knife, no gun… completely vulnerable and reliant on someone who was essentially his jailor. “Well,” you said. “I have a feeling if something really did go wrong, you’d figure something out.”

He considered your words for a moment. “Yeah. I hope so.” He thought about what he would do. What if they ran into some bad men? Bad people? What would he really do if you were in danger? He didn’t have to think hard to know the answer. Anything. He’d do anything he needed to. The thought seemed to dig deep into the center of his chest and sit there, heavy. “So, now what? House is clear.”

You holstered your gun again. “Now, we search. See if there’s anything left. A lot of people hid things, right after. There’s always something left behind. You take the upstairs. I’ll go through the downstairs.”

Negan nodded his agreement and turned back to the trashed bathroom, the sound of your steps fading away down the staircase. He searched every room, every cabinet, every closet, under beds, under loose floorboards, but came away with nothing of interest except for half a bottle of isopropyl alcohol. He headed downstairs where he could hear you rummaging around in the living room. “Hey,” he greeted you, stepping over the threshold. You were standing completely frozen now at the shelves, looking down at something. “Y/N?” he said again. You still didn’t seem to have heard him. He wandered closer. “Find something?”

You startled a little and turned to look at him, a picture frame in your hand. “Oh. No, not really. You?”

“Half a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I stuck it in my pack.” He nodded toward the frame. “What’s that?”

You looked down at it again. “It’s nothing. It’s just this—this family portrait. I wonder if they lived here—” you said thoughtfully. Your voice seemed to drift away a little. “Or what happened to them, you know? Did they make it? Were they ever safe again after the outbreak?”

Negan looked on with a thoughtful expression, his dark brows furrowed over his eyes. He nodded and moved closer to get a better view of the photo behind the cracked glass. He smiled at it, chuckling a little. “Hmm. Mom, Dad, and three kids. A perfect nuclear family,” he said.

“Looks like the 90s,” you laughed. “Check out the clothes.”

“Yeah, they probably went down to JCPenney to take advantage of the fancy photography studio,” Negan remarked. “Dad looks like an accountant, doesn’t he?”

“Mmm, I’m getting more of a bank manager vibe. Mom probably stayed at home when the kids were little and then goes back to work as a teacher once the youngest is in kindergarten,” you replied, now smiling a little too.

Negan ran a hand back through his hair thoughtfully and cocked his head. “You know—I was a teacher,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never really told anyone that since things went to shit. Kind of lessens the mystique,” he laughed dryly.

Your eyes snapped over to his face, one of your eyebrows arching gracefully with the question on your face. He laughed again. “Yeah, I know… hard to believe, right? How could such an asshole be a teacher?” he said.

A slight wince flickered across your face for a brief second at his words, as if you didn’t like the way he’d talked about himself. But that couldn’t be right… “What did you teach?”

“I was a high school P.E. teacher,” he said. “Coached some of the school teams too. Basketball. Football.”

“P.E.?” you repeated. “And you’re not even going to make a ‘physical education’ joke?” you teased him. “Wow. Are you feeling okay?”

He laughed lightly. “You beat me to it,” he said. He glanced back at the picture and sighed. “Should we get going? Lots of buildings to search,” he said.

You nodded and stared down at the picture for another moment.

“What’re you doing?” Negan asked, watching you take the back off the picture frame. You fumbled with the backing and then removed the family photo from the damaged frame.

“I just—feel like someone should remember them, you know?”

Negan’s gaze was fixed on you, flickering over your face. There was something so soft in it at that moment that you felt slightly unbalanced. You distracted yourself by bending to slip the photo into your pack. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he said gently.

You deflected, laughing as you shouldered your pack again. “Oh, you’ve got no idea,” you said sarcastically, again ignoring the heat in your face. “Come on.”

The two of you went on, searching each home and several stores, working your way down the block and partway up the next. You’d managed some good finds, including a hidden cellar that clearly had belonged to a survivalist type (who had apparently “opted out” and his corpse still watched over the hidden entrance). You’d have to make a few trips to the car in order to get all the supplies and gear back, or otherwise figure out a way to get the car in through the overgrown side road. The two of you piled the finds in a safe place in one of the rooms on the main floor, stacking Rubbermaid tubs full of helpful items in neat piles.

“Fuck me,” Negan sighed, setting the last one on top. “Well, when you’re right, you’re fuckin’ right, doll. There’s always somethin’ left behind.”

You wiped at the sweat near your hairline. “Yeah,” you sighed. “Not bad.” You had a satisfied smile on your face. It felt good to do something concrete that would help people back home. You glanced out the window, assessing the light outside. It’d taken quite some time to get things moved up from the cellar and you wondered if you should keep searching the rest of the houses or call it a day. “I think it’s starting to get late,” you said, remarking mainly on the way the light already seemed like it was fading.

“Mmm,” Negan hummed, going to the front bay window and looking out. His eyes had been searching the street all day, vigilant, as if waiting for some psychos to suddenly burst out of one of the houses. But the only signs of inhabitation or squatting you’d found were clearly from long before, now covered in dust and debris or otherwise moldering in damp corners or on top of filthy mattresses. Now, as you were busy drinking from your canteen, Negan’s shifting suddenly stopped. “Hey, doll—I’m no meteorologist, but those clouds look like bad fuckin’ news.” It had been overcast all day, but you could tell by the tone of his voice that this was something else.

You capped your canteen and went to the front door, your brow now furrowed heavily to match his. You pulled the door open and peered at the sky. Ominous didn’t even begin to cover it. There was not a sniff of wind at the moment and the air seemed to hum with electricity. Negan appeared next to you in the doorway, squinting at the low and heavy sky.

“I’m pretty sure when the sky turns fuckin’ green, there’s some bad shit coming,” he said. He glanced over at you.

“Shit,” you swore under your breath. “Yeah. Yeah, green sky is… tornado weather. Fuck,” you muttered, glancing back at the pile of supplies.

“What do you want to do?” Negan asked.

You sighed, pushing a hand back through your hair. “Even if we head back to the car now, we probably can’t outrun that… the old highway is FUBAR in some places. It’s not like we can drive 60 mph all the way back to Alexandria. And that would mean leaving all these supplies here.” As if on cue, the complete stillness in the air broke as a rushing wind approached like a tidal wave, creaking and cracking in the trees and swirling dust and dried leaves across the open ground until it reached the two of you standing on the porch. Your hair lifted and blew back from your face.

“I’ll ask you again,” Negan said, speaking louder now over the roar of the wind, “what do you want to do?”

You hesitated, glancing from him back to the quickly approaching menacing clouds. The little light left was fading fast. “Fuck,” you muttered again. “I—I think we’re better off weathering it here than in a car out there,” you said.

“I definitely agree with that,” Negan said.

“Once the storm clears, maybe then we can try to get the car in here and load up the supplies and get home. We’ll be delayed a bit longer than expected but—I think it’s the best move. Hopefully, we’re just stuck a couple more hours.”

Negan nodded. “Alright. Where are we holing up? Because this shit is about to kick the fuck off,” he said, surveying the street again.

“Here is as good a place as any,” you said. “There’s a basement and almost all the windows are intact or boarded up. Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Negan followed you in and shut the door on the wind. Your eyes were already on him when he turned around again. He was trying to decode your expression but it was largely unreadable. He unshouldered his pack and set it on the floor, taking a seat on the stairs across from where you were now leaning up against the wall. The ambient light from outside was quickly waning and before long you could hear raindrops start to pound the roof. They increased in size and then seemed to be blowing across the roof in waves of water.

You could hear the huge cottonwood trees creaking and cracking in the wind. You tried to peer out through the boarded slats over the window to see if they were dropping branches but it was too dark. Behind you, Negan pulled out a flashlight from his pack and clicked it on. It had grown extremely dark with the heavy storm clouds gathering and unleashing the torrents of rain. You were still standing right by the window, looking out, when he spoke again.

“Hey, maybe we should move away from the windows, doll,” Negan said, worried. He didn’t like how close you were standing to all that glass, even if it was mostly boarded over. His voice was deep and resonant in the space between you with just the raging background noise outside.

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said. You bent to grab your pack when you suddenly heard a loud thud against the side of the house. You straightened up, your eyes widening. Negan had heard it too, his eyes were narrowed, ears strained, listening. It was difficult to hear anything over the storm.

“What was that?” you asked, your voice breathy. “Some debris blowing against the house?” you asked.

Negan shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, standing from his place on the steps and going to the doorway of the room the sound had seemed to come from. The roaring storm seemed to reach new extremes. The wind sounded like a train bearing down on the little dilapidated structure the two of you were sheltering in. Rain and hail lashed the siding and the roof. There was another thud from outside, this time on the window.

“There. Again,” you said, anxiously pacing toward Negan to stare into the room. His flashlight was still on. Another thud, and then another. You squinted, trying to distinguish anything through the boarded windows but it was too dark. Then, a flash of lightning shot the sky outside with blinding white and you couldn’t help the soft gasp that left you at what it illuminated.

“What?” Negan asked urgently.

You couldn’t speak. You just reached for the flashlight. Negan looked down as your hand landed on top of his. He could feel you trembling slightly and for a moment he was so shocked by your touch that he didn’t understand what you were doing. With your gentle grip, you directed the yellow beam of the light slowly to the window. As it came to rest between two of the boards and shone through the glass, Negan registered that there were walkers clawing to get in, rotting faces pressed to the glass, bloody fingertips, snapping teeth. Dozens. “Ho-ly fuck!” he exclaimed, jerking the flashlight off the window and quickly shutting it off. You and Negan stood in the dark for a moment, neither of you moving, now keenly aware of the pounding noise and dull thuds on the exterior of the house, cutting through the wind and rain. Were you imagining it or was the pounding increasing, getting louder? More frequent? Negan could hear your breath beside him in the dark. “Well, that shit was straight out of a fuckin’ horror movie,” he remarked in a low voice.

“Yeah,” you whispered back. “Where the fuck did they come from? It sounds like we’re surrounded.”

“I don’t fuckin’ know. Seems like they rolled in with the storm.”

“Maybe they can feel the barometric pressure changes or something. It’s almost like a migration,” you commented, feeling your heart rate and breathing finally start to slow down after the shock of discovering the herd.

Negan chuckled beside you and you heard him shift. “Who do you think you’re talking to? Eugene?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Okay… so, now we just have the storm of the century and a fucking herd to deal with. Great. Okay… let’s think…”

Negan finally clicked his flashlight on again but kept it pointed at the floor. “This place seems sturdy but maybe we should barricade ourselves better.”

You glanced toward the basement where you’d discovered the hidden cellar. Your eyes next drifted toward the stack of supplies. “Basement is pretty much ready to barricade thanks to that dead survivalist guy, but if they do break in we could be trapped down there for fuck-knows how long.”

“Not sure we have any better options. We don’t want to be upstairs either. We’re sure as shit not going out on the roof in this if they get in and if there is a fucking tornado and we're on the top floor—” Negan broke off.

“Yeah,” you agreed, nodding. You dug into your own pack and pulled out a headlamp, quickly turning it on dimly. “Grab some of these. They have food and medical supplies, some other gear and odds and ends,” you said, grabbing one of the many Rubbermaid containers and heading toward the stairs down to the basement.

“Man, I’m so glad we carried all this shit up here,” Negan joked, picking up a stack of two big containers.

“Sorry. Next time I’ll consult my crystal ball,” you quipped, but right then there was the sound of shattering glass and the storm and the growling got slightly louder. One of the windows in the next room had broken. Negan could see hands and fingers reaching in around the boards.

“Let’s go. Downstairs,” he urged you, his voice intense and thick with concern.

You started down, but shot back at him over your shoulder. “Aren’t I the one in charge here?”

“I don’t see you disagreeing with that idea,” Negan said, setting his containers down beside yours. “Stay here. I’ll go grab a couple more boxes,” he said.

“Whoa. Me stay here? What is this? You don’t even have a weapon!” you argued.

He gave you an exasperated look. “Fine. Then by all means, come with me, darlin’!” He turned and rushed back up the stairs and you had to hurry after him, one hand on your knife in its sheath.

“Negan,” you snapped at him in a low voice as you rounded the doorway back onto the main floor. But he wasn’t by the supplies. You glanced around and could see the dim glow of his light in the next room, the one where the walkers had broken a window. Rain and the occasional hailstone were puddling under the window among the shards of glass. “What the fuck?” You nearly collided with each other when he turned around and started back toward the door. “What are you doing?! Put that down!” you growled.

He had an iron fireplace poker in his hand. That’s what he’d been doing in this room, grabbing it from the set of fireplace tools. “Don’t you think this qualifies as kind of a capital “E” emergency?” he argued.

You stared at him, intense, your chest heaving, and to your annoyance, he smiled at you.

“Goddamn. You look fuckin’ hot as shit when you’re pissed off! I mean, you’re always hot but ho-ly shit! I'm scared and suddenly all tingly downtown!”

Your hand went purposefully to your knife again and you stared him down. “I said. Put it. The fuck. Down.”

“Doll, just hear me out—”

“Negan.”

Another crack and the sound of shattering glass behind him and you saw more arms reaching through between the boards of another window. “Okay, we don’t have time for this right now. You can stab me or whatever downstairs,” he said. He breezed past you and grabbed a couple more boxes of supplies. You had no choice but to begrudgingly follow after him.

He turned, straightening up as he heard your boots hitting the bottom steps, and he opened his mouth to say something, but you were already on him before he could get even a syllable out.

You kicked him hard on the inside of one of his thighs and he dropped sideways onto his knee. The poker dropped from his hand and rang out on the cement floor. You kicked it away and it slid into the far wall with a harsh scraping sound. Your knife was unsheathed and pointed at the base of his throat before he knew what was happening. To your amazement, once he recovered from his pained grimaces, he fucking smiled again.

“Do you know what you’re doing to me right now?” he asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Shut the fuck up and listen to me. When I brought you out here, you said you would listen to every fucking thing I told you to do. This is your one single second chance. Next time you fuck up, it’ll be my knife going into your thigh instead of my boot. Got it?”

He gulped, still on one knee at the point of your knife and still, to your annoyance, vaguely smiling. “Oh, I got it,” he responded, his eyebrows lifting.

“Good,” you said, backing off and letting him stand up. “Now, go pick up the fucking poker. I’m gonna lock up the door…”

“Wait‚ what?” Negan laughed, still rubbing at his leg where you’d kicked him. “After all that, you’re letting me have it?”

“Yes,” you said. “This does roughly qualify as an emergency. Or at least, the border of one. But those kinds of decisions? They’re not yours to make, Negan. You’re not the one in charge here.”

He looked both stunned and amused. “That is becoming more and more clear every fuckin’ day,” he said softly, looking at you with some expression you couldn’t completely discern.

You gave him a perplexed look and then headed up the stairs to seal up the door. There were heavy brackets on the back of the reinforced door (thank you, dead survivalist man) and you spotted a thick board leaning up against the railing. Once you’d closed and locked it, you heaved up the heavy wooden slat and dropped it into place in the brackets, adding extra security in case the walkers did get inside and try to push through. As you removed your hand hastily to head back downstairs, a jagged corner on one of the metal brackets sliced into your palm. You jerked it back and stared as a long crimson gash began to leak fat drops of blood onto the steps below you. You pulled in a hiss of breath through your teeth. “Great,” you sighed, cradling it in the other hand and trotting back down. Overhead, you could hear the storm still raging, but as a low hum now.

Negan stood up from his seat on one of the containers of supplies as soon as he saw you. A concerning amount of shockingly red blood was dripping off your hand and onto the floor. “What happened?” he asked, moving closer as you attempted to dig into your pack with your other hand, blood now running down your forearm. “Jesus, let me help you!” He grabbed your pack away and dug around inside until he found a small kit with spare bits of cloth for bandaging, some gauze pads, and a few other assorted odds and ends for first aid. “Wait, I’ve got that alcohol in my pack. We should clean it up first.”

“It’ll be fine,” you argued, pulling off your headlamp and watching as Negan clicked on a lantern he’d found in one of the boxes.

“Would you let me help you with this at least? Can I? Please? I’m asking permission now,” he joked, shooting you a goading expression.

You cocked your head at him and tried to look annoyed, but you conceded, taking a seat on a plastic container across from him.

Negan dug out the alcohol and poured a generous amount out onto your palm. You gritted your teeth together at the burn and winced. “Sorry,” he said, pressing a gauze pad down over it, holding it gently on his own hand now. “But better than an infection, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling strangely on edge with your hand in his.

Negan used some of the long, clean strips of cloth to bandage it up and hold the gauze in place, tying it securely but gently before relinquishing his hold on you. “Should have the doc take a look at that when we get back,” he said. “Pretty deep. Might need some stitches on that one.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” you said, finally sighing as you suddenly realized how tired you were. Now that you felt more secure and safe, a strange thing with Negan sitting a mere foot away from you with no dividing bars between, the adrenaline had run out. Exhaustion was starting to set in. You took stock of the space. Your eyes wandered from the door into the hidden cellar where you’d found most of the supplies, back to the corpse of the survivalist in the far corner, over to the boxes next to Negan.

He was putting the first aid stuff back into your pack when his fingers nudged something and he paused; a thick stack of glossy photos. He pulled them out, curious. On top was the first one, the one in the very first house that the two of you had talked about, but there were more along with it now—many more. He flipped through a couple until you noticed and shifted where you were sitting. His hazel eyes lifted up to your face. “These are all from today?” he asked.

You nodded and tried to clear the sudden lump in your throat.

“You kept them? All of them?” he asked.

“Yeah.”

He sighed, shaking his head vaguely, and thumbed through more; families on vacations, some guy holding a big fish, a young couple smiling in front of the Statue of Liberty, babies and kids and dogs and cats, an elderly couple posing in front of a studio background.

Your voice suddenly cut into him. “Did you ever stop to think that every person you put under your bat, they probably had photos like this? Were in photos like this?” you said suddenly. A particularly loud rumble of thunder boomed and rolled, as if on cue. Your eyes, clear and steady and striking even in the low glow of the lantern, felt like they were seeing straight into his core.

He frowned. The lines on his face seemed to become more pronounced, and he almost cringed. “No,” he answered honestly, the gravel in his voice heavy and gritty. “I didn’t think about it at all, most of the time. I think that was a lot of what I was doing. Not thinking. I know that's a shit fuckin' excuse. It's not an excuse... but I didn’t—want to think about the hard stuff.”

You were curious, interested, and felt that same vulnerability he seemed to be giving you more and more rolling off him in waves. “Like what?”

He gave you a sad smile. You could hear the wind whistling above you and the pounding of the rain. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

But now you were the one to back away, ducking your head, avoiding his eyes. Negan saw that there was hurt there, deep hurt. “I don’t think we’re quite there yet,” you murmured, fiddling with the bandage on your palm. “I mean, I’m not…”

“Hey, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again,” Negan replied, “you don’t owe me a damn thing. But can I tell you somethin’, doll?” He hesitated for a moment. “I—I like you. You kicked the shit out of me and held a knife to my throat about ten minutes ago and I still really like you. Genuinely. As a person, as a badass, as a—”

“Negan—” you interrupted him.

“If I had to be trapped in a basement with a corpse, a tornado and herd outside, I can’t think of another person I’d rather be stuck with,” he said.

“Negan—” you tried again.

“No, listen to me. I’m trying to tell you—”

“You don’t like me, okay? You just feel that way because I’m the only person who really talks to you, who spends time with you, who brings you your meals, and looks after some fraction of your well-being. It’s like—it’s like trauma bonding, okay? That’s all it is.”

“No. It’s not just that. See Gabe was doin’ all that same shit and I still didn’t fuckin’ like him… I mean, not as much as I like you.”

As usual, when what you were feeling was becoming overwhelming, too many thoughts, too many emotions, you deflected with humor. “I’m cuter than Gabriel.”

Negan laughed and this time the sound was warm and almost comforting. “Yeah. No argument there…”

You allowed yourself a half-smile and then sighed, rubbing your hands over your face. “Fuck, I’m tired. What a long fucking day…”

“There are those sleeping bags in one of these boxes I think,” Negan said, starting to pull at the lids.

You laughed. “I can’t sleep,” you said.

“Why not?”

“Besides the insane storm outside and the horde? Uhh… I don’t know, you?” you offered, your tone a little sardonic.

But Negan’s face was perfectly serious. “The storm and the horde—can’t do shit about those companions and I agree that they are crappy house guests, but they’re not fuckin’ goin’ anywhere soon from what I can hear. That’s not changing whether you’re asleep or awake. As for me—” he tilted his head and gave you an appraising look, “I do not want to hurt you. And I won’t. And I’m not running away with the dickhole party outside so, you may as well catch some shut-eye. I’ll keep watch.”

You considered him for a long moment but finally shook your head. “No. No, I can’t sleep now…”

Negan sighed and rested the fireplace poker across his knees. “Well, then I’d say it’s going to be a long night… Got any ideas about how to pass the time?”

The mischievous sparkle came back into his eyes and you shot him a stern look that was apparently not enough of a deterrent. “Don’t—”

“We still do have those sleeping bags. I can think of some activities for a makeshift bed that don’t involve actual sleep.”

“Negan, there’s literally a corpse in the corner and a horde outside and that’s where your mind goes?”

He laughed. “Can you blame me? I’ve been in jail for, how long now? Five, six years? And trust me, Gabey Baby wasn’t giving me any action.” He paused at the look on your face, laughing again. “Come on, doll. I’m just kidding. Though it would help pass the time, you deserve far better than a sleeping bag on a dirty basement floor.”

“With a dead guy watching,” you added.

“With a dead guy watching,” he repeated, scratching absently at the stubble on his face. “That is pretty fuckin’ metal though,” he smirked.

“Negan, saying that I deserve better than that is really saying nothing. Anyone deserves better than that,” you sighed, standing up and pacing. “So yeah. I’d say it’s going to be a long night.”

[connorsblog]

for the prompts, could you do “are you... wearing anything?” with rick? either male reader or gender neutral, whichever you feel like :)

˙✧˖° SHEETS 📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚

a/n : thank you for the request lovely! also sorry for how short this was,,, i wrote this at 3am

pairing: rick grimes x male reader

warnings: reader has hangover, reference to nsfw, the usual !

as i woke up my head felt dizzy, my eyes reluctantly fluttering open. i stretched, my feet shaking as i did so. god that always felt so good.

soon after, i realized the other side of my bed had a weight on it.

looking over, i realized it was rick.

oh, that's why my head hurts.

now my blistering headache made perfect sense.

as i moved to wake him, my sheets wrapped around my leg. damn these comfortable ass sheets.

i maneuvered my legs for a few moments to escape from them, finally freeing my legs.

my head pulsed again as i swung my feet over the edge of the bed — finally realizing i was fully nude.

what the fuck?

i glance over to rick and he was too, his tan shoulders shining in the early morning sunlight.

i tried to nudge him awake again, but he didnt even move at all. he looked dead almost, but i was assured he wasn't by his dramatic sigh.

he's still just as dramatic when he's asleep, i guess.

after a few minutes of me spaced out — staring at his wall in front of me — he finally woke up.

i was faced away from him so i didn't register it until his voice rang out, that accent chipping my ears.

"are you... wearing anything?" was the first question.

"uh, no, actually. seems like you assisted me on that, rick," i let out a chuckle, which i regretted soon after because it made my head pulse.

he chuckled back, sitting up as i recently did. he flattened his curls, trying to tame the hair that seemed to be the only physical result of last night.

well, i was wrong. as he sat up, i saw a large purpling, yellowy mark on his neck. damn — when did i become a fucking werewolf? that thing was huge.

i realized about a half second later there were a few more littered down his muscled abdomen.

"do you remember what happened? last night, i mean," i decided to ask. i was curious, but i had an idea of what it could be.

"i mean.. do i have to say it?" he half-chuckled, looking me up and down for a split second.

"you worried what your pals are gonna say?" i teased. we've had sex before... but this seemed to be a little more intimate than the previous ones.

this time, he stayed in my bed. he didn't leave like he usually did — exiting quietly before dawn had erupted through the windows.

"no, not at all," he walked over to me, still nude (which... i was not complaining.) and planted a kiss on the top of my head.

i could barely feel it — but warmth tingled through my body as if i had.

[hippolotamus]

Sentence Sunday ✨

I can show you lies 'Cause I'm a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, "Babe, you gotta fake it 'til you make it" and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die I was grinning like I'm winning, I was hitting my marks 'Cause I can do it with a broken heart

Beloved mutuals and pocket pals... I honestly don't know what to say for myself. This is a case of 'I listened to a song too much, I had an idea I knew I was never gonna write' turned 'I'll just throw it out as a prompt' --> 'I'll just make a moodboard' --> 'Oh god, I've written over 1k words in place of a summary'. SO. Have... whatever this is, T Swift influenced Buddie actor au. Under the cut to save your dash.

Honestly, if the world still exists in the morning, Eddie Diaz doesn't really give a fuck. His girlfriend left, claiming he's still not over his late wife, and his teenage son, the last thread connecting him to said wife, went to go live with his grandparents. After, of course, blaming Eddie for pushing 'yet another one' away. Christopher wouldn't even look at him before he went.

Then there's Anita Mills, his agent, who is probably a few blood pressure points away from a stroke at this point. Assuming she doesn't fire him first.

Let her, he thinks, grabbing a bottle of Maker's Mark from the cabinet. He has a string of blockbuster films to his name, not to mention a commendable collection of Oscar's and Emmy's. Not that they made his parents proud or kept his wife from leaving him before she died. But they exist as proof that he's had a successful career. Between investments and liquid assets he has more money than he would know what to do with in a hundred lifetimes. So, fuck it.

Eddie breaks the wax seal and twists off the red cap. He doesn't even bother with a glass, not really seeing a need. He's never been a big drinker, but lately his tolerance has grown considerably. Indulging until he passes out seems like an ideal use of his time right now anyway. If he wakes up after? Well, he'll consider that a success.

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

"Hey! What the hell?!" Eddie manages, coughing and trying not to choke on the ice cold water hitting his body. He opens his eyes to see Mills towering over him, glowering and holding an empty vase. He swipes a hand across his face. "Seriously, Anita, what the fuck was that?"

"I don't know, Eddie, you tell me." She disappears for less than a minute, returning with a hand towel she unceremoniously drops on his chest. "Help me out here. What's today?"

He wriggles himself to something resembling sitting and leans back against the coffee table. "What's today?" He parrots back dumbly.

Anita crosses her arms and quirks an eyebrow. "I asked you first."

Today, today, today. Where was he supposed to be- "Shit! The interview with, uh, fuck." He snaps his fingers and racks his brain trying to remember a name or a face. All he knows is they're important.

"Claudette Collins. Very good, Eddie, you got it part way."

"Give me ten minutes, I'll put myself together and we can go," he says, fighting the violent wave of nausea that hits as he scrambles to stand up.

"Save your poor carpet from getting puked on and sit the hell down."

"What? No, I can-"

"Eddie," Anita interjects, "the interview was five hours ago. The interview with the Claudette Collins. The one that took me months of phone calls, groveling and cashing in favors to get for you."

Fuck. "Anita, I'm so sorry. How-"

"Save it." Anita holds her hand up, effectively silencing him. It takes him back to being seven years old and having to explain why his dad's truck had an enormous dent in it. She rests her hands on her hips, pacing back and forth as she purses her lips. Eventually she sits in the leather armchair situated in the corner. "Eddie, you and I have known each other a long time. A long time. I've been your agent since you walked into my shitty office back in Dallas. Given your impressive display of awards, I'd say we've done pretty well together."

She inhales sharply, rubbing at her temple. Anita doesn't mince words, it's part of why he's always liked her. He never has to question where he stands. She says 'jump' and he knows exactly how high. It's not difficult to guess what's coming next.

"Eddie, I know you're going through a rough patch. What you're dealing with is hard enough without seeing it splashed on every tabloid and trashy website. Not to mention none of those places knows the real story, so it's all a bunch of 'she said he might have said' bullshit. But you've made it through tougher things." Anita doesn't need to clarify that she's talking about Shannon's death and how his parents tried to take Christopher. "I don't know what's happening this time, but I need to take a step back. My wife has made it very clear that all of my attempts at stress management are not working and that if I can't get it under control I shouldn't be surprised when I come home to an empty house. So."

Eddie swallows, waiting for the inevitable and cursing himself for pretending he wouldn't care.

"I've talked to a few friends in the business and found someone willing to take you on."

What?

"What? You're not firing me?"

Anita's features soften. "Technically, yes. I am very much dropping you like a scorpion I found in my boots. However, like I said, I found someone willing to work with you. The name is Bobby Nash. He runs a smallish agency but don't let that throw you. He's cobbled together some pretty impressive talent. I assume you've heard of Evan Buckley?"

Eddie scoffs. "Of course I have. Who hasn't? Christ, he's everywhere you look. I can't pass a damn bus stop without seeing his face." A few details begin to click into place within Eddie's muddled brain. "Bobby Nash is his agent?"

"Sure is. And we all know the stories about Evan's past aren't the type you trot out at parties. My advice is that you don't look a gift horse in the mouth, go with Nash and do whatever he tells you to do. He even has a role in mind for you, costarring with Buckley. What do you say?"

What else was there to say? If Eddie didn't want to get blacklisted or wind up as some washed up tragic Hollywood story, being gossiped about where everyone - including his son - could see what a failure he was...

"I guess I say- when can I meet him?"

"Good answer." Anita clasps her hands together and gives him her signature smirk that tells him she approves. "Just leave everything to me."

Up to this point, Eddie has trusted Anita implicitly with all the messy business that comes with having him for a client. Why stop now?

tagged by @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @tizniz

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@daffi-990 @diazsdimples @your-catfish-friend

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@shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz @queerbuckleys @bi-buckrights @elvensorceress

@bucksbiawakening @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @ladydorian05

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@thewolvesof1998 @watchyourbuck @welcometololaland @wildlife4life and anyone else who wants to 😘

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Shadows Entwined: part 6

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 / Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

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

A/N: And one week later, the Gotham adventure continues💙

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

You arrive at Arkham Asylum, finding the eerie building abandoned, with the expectations of a few mutants. One mutant especially, makes Leo realize a fear he did not know he had.

Warnings: Spelling, fear gas visions, imaginary death, angst, desperation.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

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

“I win!”, Robin said proudly as he landed at the gates of Arkham Asylum. “And you owe me a pizza”, he said, gesturing towards you, seeming oblivious for a short time, as the rest of you took in the appearance of Arkham Asylum and its menacing atmosphere. From the gates to the front entrance, was a path marked with dead trees, all casting contorted shadows on the ground. Its gothic walls were dark, with a glow of green and red, giving it a sickening appearance. Windows were smashed and not a single window carried any light, making it feel similar to a haunted house in the worst horror movies.

“I’ve never liked this place”, you mumbled, causing Leo to turn his head slightly towards you. The look on your face, it wasn’t fear. Batman had probably learned you to not show fear, yet there was something in your eyes. Your pretty eyes. A determination yet a hesitance. Leo noticed how your shoulders had tensed a bit, and how your demeanor had changed so much since your small race on the rooftops.

Leonardo offered his elbow out to you ever so slightly, causing you to look at him in slight confusion. “Just hold on if you ever need to”, he said, feeling his heartbeat to raise ever so slightly when he saw a small smile on your lips.

“No sign of the Foot or the League”, Batman’s deep voice sounded, causing both of you to jump back to reality, back in front of Arkham’s threatening gate. “Stay sharp”.

With all of your weapons ready, you followed Batman up the path and through the main doors. None of you saw anyone. Not a single soul. All you could see was the dark corners of Arkham, and the haunting silence.

BANG.

You jumped slightly, placing a hand on Leonardo’s arm. If it wasn’t for the threatening atmosphere of Arkham, Leo would probably have enjoyed the feeling. Maybe he would even have turned to smile at you, if not for the sound of something being dragged along the ground.

“Well, would you look at that”, a voice sounded in the darkness. A dog-like being dressed in a jester costume and carrying a big mallet, jumped onto the railing at the top of the staircase. “The bat has made some new best friends! So, are you gonna introduce me to your new turtle pals or what?”

“Harley. What have they done to you?”, Batman asked, ever so stoic.

“The ooze”, Donnie spoke up. “They must have injected themselves”.

“Aha”, Harley said with a finger in the air before jumping back from the railing. “There’ll be plenty of time to talk once you find Mister J and our guests. He got a whole thing planned! I don’t wanna ruin it. You know how he gets!” And with those words she turned and left, leaving you and the rest in shivering unease. All expect Batman and Leonardo.

The said turtle stepped forward, ready to follow the mutant, but Batman stopped him. “Wait”, he said, causing Leo to look at him. “Presumably Shredder and Ra’s have mutated all of the inmates of Arkham”.

“Was this their plan?”, Batgirl asked in confusion. “Mutate the villains and unleash them on the city?”

“I have a feeling this is just one part of the puzzle”, Batman said. “Split up. Investigate each wing. (H/N), you and Leonardo come with me. Remember, this whole asylum is essentially a maze. There are hostages to rescue, and on top of that, even before they were mutated, these inmates were the deadliest criminals in all of Gotham”. That was the last the dark knight said before he turned, his cape flowing behind him.

“I was kind of expecting a pep talk”, Donatello said, looking to you, Batgirl and Robin for some sort of confirmation.

“That was the pep talk”, Robin grumbled, slightly irritated over the fact that Batman had chosen you to go with him, and not him.

“Go team”, Batgirl said, two thumbs in the air.

You and Leonardo did just as Batman had told you to, and followed him down the hall. Well, not before you shot Batgirl a smug grin, as she and Donatello decided to go together. But that smug grin soon disappeared as the three of you walked through the halls of Arkham in complete silence. You felt a slight frustration at the way Batman would position himself either between you and the blue clad turtle, or just behind you, never leaving any of you out of sight. You knew very well it was because of Batman’s protective mannerisms towards his family. It was his wish to protect that made him look out for any danger that could harm you. But to Leo it felt different. He couldn’t shake this itching feeling that Batman did not want him to be alone with you in Arkham. Was it because he did not trust that Leo could protect you, or did he not wish his daughter to be alone with the mutant turtle she was starting to show affection? Well, he couldn’t blame the bat. He still hardly knew Leonardo.

The three of you continued down Arkham’s many stairs, until you came to the boiler room. Walking into the middle of the room, Batman suddenly stopped behind you and Leo, his attention turned to the side of the room as he listened.

“What is it?”, Leo asked, noticing the sudden shift in attention.

“Someone’s here”, was all the bat said, making it shiver down your spine.

“Can you please stop saying it like that?”, you asked, rubbing your arms to calm the shiver. “Nothing good happens when you say it like that”.

That was when something flashed above your head, moving swiftly in the shadows. Black feathers fell from above, landing before your feet. Leo watched the movement before flicking his katana slightly out from its saya, using his thumb. That was when whatever that had moved in the shadows landed before you.

“Hello, Batman”, said the being covered in feathers. “I was afraid you wouldn’t show up. Though not as afraid as you’re going to be”.

“Dr. Jonathan Crane”, Batman told Leo.

“Calls himself Scarecrow”, you added.

Leo couldn’t help himself. He turned his head towards you, one brow raised. “Really?”

Scarecrow let out a cry, before flying towards you, causing all three of you to jump out of the way, just before Scarecrow’s claws could skim the floor, just where you had been standing. You stumbled on the ground, having a hard time finding your footing.

“Watch out”, Batman called out from the other side of the room, as he started to cover his face with his cape. ”He has a fear gas that can make you see things that aren’t real”.

Leo looked up, seeing Scarecrow hover before flying directly at your turned back. Batman saw the same thing, calling out your name as he launched forward, all stoic features gone from his face, and now replaced with fear.

“(Y/N), watch out!”

You started in shock at Batman. He never used your real name whenever you were in costume. It was an unspoken rule. When in costume, you were (H/N), just like Bruce was Batman. Just like Damian was Robin, and just like Barbara was Batgirl. You could not think, shocked that he used your name while Leo and the Scarecrow was around. Leonardo however, not thinking further about the name he had just heard, ran and pushed you out of the way, just as the Scarecrow threw a gas that made him choke on his own breath.

Leo fell down on all four, coughing as he tried to breath. He opened his eyes, watching in horror as the boiler room changed around him. He stood and turned, taking in the warping world around him. Until he saw his brothers. The Scarecrow looming over them. Leo yelled, his heart in his throat, telling them to get out of there. Then the Scarecrow opened his wings, sending furth an army of crows, swarming his brothers. Leo watched in fear as the crows poked at his brothers, tearing them apart. Leo could not hear their screams, but he could see it in their eyes. They were hurting. His brothers were hurting. His best friends. His one and everything. The reason he lived and fought to be a leader. They were hurting.

It happened so fast yet it felt like an eternity. The crows formed into a black mass surrounding his brothers. They disappeared, leaving behind three dried bodies. Raph, Donnie and Mikey. His brother dead before his very eyes.

Leo’s breath was erratic. He fell to his knees before clutching Mikey’s dried hands in his. His fear and horror only grew as wind picked up, turning all three of them into dust. Leo yelled, screaming at the top of his lungs before falling back to the ground.

“That’s right”, Scarecrow's voice sounded in his ear. “Everyone is gone, and it’s all your fault”.

“Leo?”

Leonardo’s heart almost stopped at the sound. So weak, fragile, scared.

“Or, almost everyone”, Scarecrow sounded yet again.

Shaking in fear, Leo turned to see you on the ground, shaking in fear. Your legs had given out, your arms working to get you moving as far away as possible.

“(H/N)?” Leo stood, walking towards you, only for you to scream and scrabble further away.

“Stay away!”, you yelled, tears pooling in your eyes, your voice cracking. Leo was confused, his heart breaking a bit as you right tried to get away from him.

“(H/N)?! What’s wrong?!” Leo was growing more and more desperate with each passing second. First his brothers and now you.

“Don’t look at me!”, you started screaming, covering your face trying to hide from him. “Don’t look at me!”

“Tell me what’s wrong, (Y/N)!” Leo was surprised to hear himself use the name Batman has just used.

“You’re eyes!” You were crying. Leo felt a pain in his chest at your words. You were scared of his eyes. You were scared of him. “Please don’t look at me! I beg you! Don’t look at me!”

Desperately he tried to reach for your hand, but you screamed, pushing back trying to get away from him. Leo wanted to cry, he wanted to yell and scream at you. To tell you were hurting him. You were crying and Leo didn’t know what to do. He was paralyzed, frantically trying to get you to look at him. So frantically, that he did not notice the Scarecrow came and pulled you away.

“No!”, Leo yelled, standing to run towards you, only to be surrounded by Scarecrows, taunting him. His brothers were dead because of him. You feared him. It was all his fault. It was all because of him.

“Leonardo”. Leo turned to see a lone Scarecrow with you hiding behind it. Leo’s blood boiled. “Listen to my voice”.

Batman ducked as Leonardo came after him with his katana in hands, fear and anger in his eyes. It was different from the eyes that had looked at you a moment ago. Fear and sadness. They were nothing like the blue eyes that you had found yourself spending so many thoughts on.

“You killed them! You took her!”, Leo yelled, slashing out his katanas at what he saw as the Scarecrow. But Batman continuously dodged the sharp blades, hearing all of your gasps as you watched on helplessly.

“I don’t know what you’re seeing”, Batman said. “But it’s not real”.

“You’ll pay for what you did!”, Leo yelled, slamming his blades against the pipes they passed.

“Your anger won’t help your brothers”, Batman said. “And it won’t save (Y/N)”. Batman jumped and rolled, before kicking Leo in the back, bringing him to the ground. You gasped, ready to jump in, but Batman signed at you to stay out of it. “You have to focus! Fight it!”

Leo sat on the ground, in a trance-like state. His normally beautiful eyes wide, as he held his katana extended out in front of him. Then suddenly he turned, swinging his katana through the air and hitting Scarecrow. The flying mutant fell groaning to the ground, as Leo braced himself against his katana, fighting to regain his breath.

Batman walked up to Leo, pulling a small pink liquid and needle from his utility belt. “The antidote to Crane’s gas”, he said as he injected Leonardo through the shoulder. “It should wear off quickly”. And so it did.

In the blink of an eye, the boiler room turned back to normal. The irrational fear left Leo’s mind, and he could finally breathe normally again. He saw as you came to his side, all though hesitant in your steps. It poked in Leo’s chest yet again. He had indeed scared you, just like the fear gas had made him believe. But now you looked him in the eyes, as if you never had been scared of them. Leo wondered if you ever actually had been scared of them. And with that thought he remembered his reaction. How he had reacted to the fear of you not wanting to see his eyes. He felt embarrassed, ashamed. He had had no control over his actions, with no regards for how it may have affected you. Yes, he had been affected by Crane’s gas, but to Leo, that was no excuse. He had to do better than that.

As if you had been able to read his mind, you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, your eyes never leaving his beautiful blue ones. The ones that you were just happy to see again. Leo placed a hand over yours, enjoying the feeling for a moment.

Batman watched the two of you for a second, before speaking up, once again ripping you out of whatever thought you had been having. Your hand falling off of Leo’s shoulder, causing him to feel what could only be described as disappointment.

“Let’s move”, Batman said, directing the two of you back towards the door and out of the boiler room.

[joe-spookyy]

asks you about american werewolf in london

hoooly shit it’s finally happened. someone asked me The question. thanks anon.

i am now going to try and sell you all on this movie cause i can’t recommend it enough and i think everyone should watch it. so: let me tell you a thing or two about hit 1981 horror comedy an american werewolf in london!!! and this is off the top of my head so if any of it is slightly off numbers wise im sorry. if you like 80s horror, men, queercoding, re-animator, the thing, jaws, saw, the lost boys, or just werewolves in general. hear me out on this one. link included to watch.

The Premise:

fresh off the heels of his cocaine fueled jazz musical masterpiece The Blues Brothers (1980), director john landis decided he was going to cook up the greatest film ever made. and he did. he was actually gonna have john belushi (jake blues) and dan akyroyd (elwood blues and yes the ghostbuster) play the two main characters, david kessler and jack goodman. now, who are these fellas? well i’m so glad you asked. david (played by david naughton) and jack (played by griffin dunne) are two dear pals from new york on a cute little backpacking trip across europe. david's the tall one. he's silly and gleeful to be out and about. jack is the short one. he's very much not gleeful about the fact that they're on the rainy moors and wishes they were in rome. together they find their way to a cute little pub and go inside, looking for hot drinks. the locals do not love this. they also do not love when jack asks them why there's a five pointed star on the wall (since lon chaney and universal studios assert that that's the mark of the wolfman!) it gets awkward. so they leave, with nothing but the warning to stay off the moors, stick to the roads, and beware of the moon. obviously, they do not follow this. wouldn't make for a very interesting movie if they did. and, as i'm sure you've assumed, they encounter a werewolf, leaving jack like this (dead):

and david, who survived the attack, with the curse of the werewolf. but fear not! david is transported to a hospital where he makes a lovely recovery, and jack um. well he stays dead. but he comes back to haunt david! he shows up a few more times in further states of decay to tell david that he really ought to just kill himself so that the curse is broken, jack and all the other werewolf victims can rest in peace, and david won't accidentally maul any additional civilians as a werewolf. hey while we're talking about jack heres me when i dressed up as him at a horror con. and the man himself.

anyways. hijinks ensue, and you're taken on a delightful romp across 97 minutes of fun as david tries to navigate life as... you guessed it. AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON!

why it rules:

in my opinion, that's enough to make this movie flames as fuck. but if you're not convinced yet? let me tell you some more. first off. the practical effects on this bad boy are straight up excellent. they're done by my personal favorite vfx artist rick baker (who also worked on star wars, men in black, videodrome, king kong and more!), and he does not hold back. the picture of jack shows how nasty and detailed the wound is pretty well, but in action it's even better with all the nasty fleshy bits dangling and wiggling and eugh. it's gross. but it's so well done. and he does a terrific job showing how jack decays throughout the rest of the movie. but of course, what really matters is the werewolf. it's not called an american dead guy in london. which is good. cause that would be a dumb name for a movie. anyways. if we’re going to talk about the werewolf, we have to start with the iconic transformation scene. sped up.

wow! pretty impressive stuff right? it’s all practical, no cgi, and i think the way it’s almost drawn out and the relative silence of the scene adds to the impact it has, since it sort of forces the audience to sit with and feel just a little bit of the discomfort that david seems to be feeling. we just have to watch him scream in pain and beg for mercy. yeesh. now, the transformation scene is hard to top. but i think the final werewolf design is actually pretty solid. it’s distinctly not man, but it’s also distinctly not wolf. i would include a picture, but i feel like part of the allure of the film is how it (jaws style) doesn’t really let you get a good look at the monster itself until the end of the movie. it’s a great way to build the tension and leave a little bit up to the audience’s interpretation. and the audience will always imagine something way more horrible than you could have ever created. which is kind of beautiful. the first time i watched, i found myself kind of disappointed in the werewolf’s appearance - its face seemed to be stuck in a sort of permanent scowl. i was kind of lost, because i couldn’t imagine why a static face had won out over whatever the vfx team was clearly capable of making. but Oh. dear reader. when nurse alex price, david’s dear love, who cared for him in the hospital, allowed him to live with her, and even banged him, approaches the wolf. when she tells david she loves him. the wolf’s eyes soften. it begins to drop the snarl. see. i lied here’s part of the wolf. all snarly like and scary. before it melts at three simple words from alex. god.

it hits me like a huge truck every single time. rick baker never misses and this movie was certainly not an exception. he got an academy award for it and it was well deserved.

not so into the technical stuff? that’s okay. i have more to praise about this movie. it is one of the best blends of horror and comedy that i’ve ever encountered. although some of it looks a little dated, i do think it maintains its fear factor. it’s plenty gory, and in my humble opinion, the subway scene (you’ll know it when you see it) is one of the most effective bits of horror i’ve ever encountered. even when isolated from the film, it still packs a punch. but i’m not gonna put it here because i want you to just watch it with the rest of the movie. sorry. and on top of the horror, it’s honestly hilarious. if you don’t think seven dead people ganging up on one dude and listing ways he should kill himself in the middle of a porn theater while a porno plays very loudly in the background. well. i don’t know what to tell you. you probably won’t like this movie that much. also, the final needle drop over the credits at the end is so abrupt and so funny. love it.

and of course, being an 80s horror movie with two male leads. i’m sure you can guess what i’m going to say. it is not hard to read jack and david as friends, but it’s also not very difficult to read them as having a little something going on. like love. fellas is it gay to go on a little trip across england with just yoh and your best bro? hard to say. textually, i do think it’s kind of telling that every time jack shows up, it’s either right after or while david is having a heterosexual experience (flirting with alex, banging alex, watching straight porn in the porn theater.) it’s almost like… something other than jack… is haunting david. i dunno. i’m not a cop. but it’s interesting. seems like something the average tumblr user might like to keep an eye on, so i’m letting you know. also they have a conversation while david is completely naked which is like. hello. plus the inherent queerness of the werewolf narrative is something i could talk about for HOURS and was especially prevalent, alongside vampire movies. in the 80s during the aids crisis.

also, there’s a classic john landis third act car crash scene, where, in the same vein as the blues brothers, an obscene amount of cars are absolutely demolished.

also also, the muppets make a brief appearance in this movie. this made me jump for joy, because i love the muppets. and you should too.

fun and true facts

still not sold? well, check out this last ditch effort in the form of fun facts. or, if you just want to know more, read on.

micheal jackson was so impressed by the effects in this movie, particularly the transformation scene, that after seeing it, he promptly hired rock baker (vfx guy) and john landis (director guy) to work on the music video for his hit song thriller. you’ve probably seen it, but if not, go watch it. tbh, even if you have seen it before, go watch it again.

david naughton was a doctor pepper spokesman before the filming of this movie. he was in at least a few bits of promotional material, including at least one commercial. unfortunately he lost the job because of the amount of time he spent dick out in this movie. doctor pepper did not want that to be the representation of their brand. cowards, the lot of them.

speaking of his dick, you actually never fully see it at any point in the movie despite the fact that it seems they never felt like telling david to wear pants on set. there is a reason for this! david (character) is jewish and canonically circumcised (dunno how else to put it) and david (actor) is neither of these things. so, to avoid ruining the realism in his. werewolf movie. john landis took great care to never show the whole thing.

the american ambassador who visits david in the hospital is played by frank oz, who also voices miss piggy. because of her brief cameo, he technically plays two different roles in this movie, although miss piggy is simply credited as “Herself” in the end credits of the movie. he also voices yoda which isn’t relevant but it is really funny to me.

see you next wednesday, which is the name of the porno in the movie, is actually a fun john landis easter egg! many of his movies include the phrase “see you next wednesday.” it’s also seen on posters in the subway scene.

in the scene where jack first visits david in the hospital, he was supposed to take a bite of david’s toast, after which it would immediately fall out of his ruined and torn to shreds throat. however, it was cut for being too gross. which is sad i feel like it could have been funny.

when david calls home to talk to his parents, he mentions two siblings: rachel and max. these are the names of the directors children in real life.

griffin dunne, who plays jack, also appears as the family therapist in a season 2 episode of succession. this was a jumpscare.

while they were filming the naked in the zoo scenes, they were unable to actually close the zoo, so when filming carried on past the opening time of the park, they just kept going and allowed butt naked david naughton to run loose around the zoo. they did, however, succeed in closing piccadilly circus for the car crash scene.

in the beginning when jack is being attacked by the werewolf, it was in fact half a wolf prop on the front of a wheelbarrow. this is a very funny vision for me.

jack is right - the five pointed star is considered the mark of the wolfman, according to 1941’s The Wolf Man, played by lon chaney junior and produced by universal pictures. the guy knows his stuff. interestingly, rick baker did the makeup for the 2010 remake of the wolf man as well. he did pretty good, i think.

this isn’t even about this movie but blues brothers is an awesome film too and a fun fact about that one is there was a whole part of the budget devoted to buying cocaine. and you can tell. great movie.

director john landis did in fact kill three people the year after this movie came out. so. i do feel a little bad promoting it because jesus christ. but. no harm no foul in pirating it. it’s one easy internet archive search away. and sometimes it’s on tubi. but just in case, here’s the internet archive link. https://archive.org/details/an-american-werewolf-in-london

so. anyways. please check out this baller ass movie and talk to me about it. thank you so much to whoever asked this. i love you. thanks for reading. bye.

[seramilla]

...I did a thing

The school, especially the engineering students, were all gathered for the goodbye speech as their Head of Engineering was leaving them. Most of the other classes and teachers were here too because Ms. Sera Phim the CFO was leaving as well.

"So I hope you all don't forget what I taught you and I dearly hope your next Head of Engineering at least knows what they're doing." Carmilla said earning snickers from her two engineering daughters while Vaggie just snorted.

"And as for that fanclub that popped up in regards to my relationship status with a certain CFO..." Carmilla said and there were alarmed noises from the members of said fanclub.

"You told her?!" One student asked Odette and Clara and the two snickered heavily.

"Of course we did. It's hilarious!" Clara said grinning at them all.

"and for everyone that tried hitting on either of us...let me make this clear." Carmilla said sternly and now everyone was staring as she approached Sera. She grabbed the taller woman by her business suit and yanked her down into a deep passionate kiss.

Then when she pulled back from the blushing woman she smirked as she held up their hands to show off their rings.

"We've been married since before we started working here. We just kept it professional at work. Next person who hits on my wife in front of me no less, gets the shit kicked out of them!" Carmilla said smirking at everyone as the fanclub cheered and a few others were blushing or whooping.

"Carmilla!" Sera squeaked out bright red and was cut off by Carmilla kissing her cheek.

"Don't faint in front of the school mi vida." Carmilla said unapologetic as she grinned.

"Go mama!" Clara whooped as Odette tried to hide her snickers and Vaggie pulled a face but was smiling. Charlie just 'aww'ed at the two alongside Emily.

"Oh and Mrs. Carmody? You've been teaching everything wrong and are a rude hypocritical bitch heading down when you die and not up." Carmilla said sweetly and Charlie and Emily definitely cheered her on then.

"How DARE you!" And that was their cue. The Carmine daughters, Charlie and Emily leapt onto the stage and everyone's human disguises dropped.

Charlie even went the extra mile by having her horns and tail visible as she wrapped her arms around Vaggies while being mindful of her wings.

"Oh we dare very well! I'm an overlord in hell. My lovely wife is a literal Seraphim as is Emily. My older two have been in hell a while and my youngest is a fallen angel and exorcist. Oh and not counting Princess Charlotte." Carmilla said and there was a lot of gaping and a bit of fainting now.

"Princess...Charlotte?" The Business teacher asked as everyone looked at the brightly smiling blond.

"Oh right. Proper introduction. Hi I'm Crown Princess Charlotte Morningstar of Hell. The princess of Pride." And Charlie's red eyes locked right onto the gaping and pale Mrs. Carmody as a wicked smirk stole across her face.

"Daughter of Lucifer and Lilith Morningstar."

And with that Mrs. Carmody fainted and Charlie used her powers to rip open a portal to hell and her hotel right there in front of everyone.

"Later losers." Vaggie smirked as she followed her girlfriend like a lovesick puppy.

"I need to check on my business and lavish my wife in love and attention." Carmilla swept the much taller Sera into a bridal carry, startling a laugh from the angel.

"See you in hell!" Clara laughed as she and Odette entered the portal that then sealed shut with a small poof and smell of sulfur.

With that. Chaos erupted.

"Sera Phim" I'm howling! Sera, you ain't slick!! 🤣🤣

Professor Carmody and Susan are gonna be great pals one day, mark my words!!

No further comments, your honor. 😂😂 Just basking in the glorious shenanigans. We love a big "fuck you, you old bitch (Carmody)!" at the final reveal! Chef's kiss! 💋💋

[enbyjjunie]

ENBYJJUNIE's 2024 KINKtober

hey guys, gals and non-binary pals, this year i am gonna try my hand at my own kinktober. i will try my best to get everything out in october, but i can't promise i will be able to. i will promise, however, that i am getting them all out eventually! (so please hold me to that)

the groups i will be writing about this kinktober are DKB, ATEEZ and P1Harmony, choosing accordingly to what i could write successfully - so if you see more of one group than another, it's most likely because i feel more comfortable and well-equipped to write about that group.

i am taking inspiration from this kinktober's theme list and this piwontober's list (which you should definitely check out since my friend @starryjiung is writing for that)

Join me in writing as i try to get this done on ohwrite!

- PROMT LIST + IDOLS -

DAY 1: lingerie + first time | reader x Lee Changmin wc: [not posted] on

DAY 2: deep throating + wet dream + cum eating | reader x Yang Heechan wc: [not posted] on

DAY 3: phonesex/sexting + foreplay | reader x Kim Gwanghyun wc: [not posted] on

DAY 4: food play + biting marks | reader x Amanuma Yuku wc: [not posted] on

DAY 5: hunter/prey + blindfold | reader x Kim Hongjoong wc: [not posted] on

DAY 6: roleplay + discipline | reader x Jang Dongil wc: [not posted] on

DAY 7: praise kink + spanking + corruption | reader x Park Seonghwa wc: [not posted] on

DAY 8: gunplay + dirty talk | reader x Kim Jongseob wc: [not posted] on

DAY 9: threesome + aftercare + gangbang | reader x Choi San x Jung Sungmin wc: [not posted] on

DAY 10: mirror sex + orgasm denial | reader x Jung Wooyoung wc: [not posted] on

DAY 11: sensory deprivation + public sex | reader x Song Mingi wc: [not posted] on

DAY 12: authority kink + auction/sharing | reader x Choi Taeyang wc: [not posted] on

DAY 13: pregnancy + daddy kink | reader x Jeong Yunho wc: [not posted] on

DAY 14: make-up sex + face sitting | reader x Kang Yeosang wc: [not posted] on

DAY 15: overstimulation + massaging + begging | reader x Jang Dongil wc: [not posted] on

DAY 16: double penetration + oral sex + jealousy | reader x Kim Hongjoong (& Jung Wooyoung) wc: [not posted] on

DAY 17: bath/shower sex + fingering | reader x Jung Sungmin wc: [not posted] on

DAY 18: face-fucking + shame/guilt | reader x Yoon Keeho wc: [not posted] on

DAY 19: hate/angry sex + competence kink + forced marriage | reader x Choi Jiung wc: [not posted] on

DAY 20: breath play + body worship + slave/master | reader x Park Seonghwa wc: [not posted] on

DAY 21: hair-pulling + thigh riding + bondage | reader x Choi Jongho wc: [not posted] on

DAY 22: size difference + window/balcony sex + powerplay | reader x Hwang Intak wc: [not posted] on

DAY 23: sleepy sex + lactation + stalking | reader x Haku Shota wc: [not posted] on

DAY 24: sub/dom + temperature play | reader x Hwang Intak wc: [not posted] on

DAY 25: seduction + against a wall | reader x Hwang Junseo wc: [not posted] on

DAY 26: breeding + harem | reader x DKB wc: [not posted] on

DAY 27: A/B/O + accidental stimulation | reader x Yang Heechan wc: [not posted] on

DAY 28: glory hole + voyeurism | reader x Song Mingi wc: [not posted] on

DAY 29: creampie + edging + sex pollen | reader x Han Harry-June wc: [not posted] on

DAY 30: age difference + teasing + forbidden | reader x Choi San wc: [not posted] on

DAY 31: FREE CHOICE (please tell me any and all ideas you have for this) wc: [not posted] on

i'm always accepting feedback, so please don't be shy with leaving some, anonymous too!! i have just made a ko-fi if anyone wants to leave a tip, which i would be incredibly grateful for

[the-library-of-forgotten-endings]

Ink-Stained Love is Not Ideal, Part 2: Love of the Ink-Stained Usurper

Overblots x reader

Reader pronouns used: not applicable

Content warnings: kinda yandere OB Leona...

Boy, oh boy, OB Leona looks pissed.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” Magic gleams in his palms, and you think, oh god, he’s gonna sand me, isn’t he?

You swallow, then smile brightly. “Leona! My favourite furry! How’re you doing?” You shoot him some finger guns.

OB Leona frowns even more at your choice of words. “What’s a ‘furry?’”

“Um, nothing!” You laugh nervously. “Um, anyways, pal, do you mind opening the portal out of here or something?”

“Why would you want that?” OB Leona steps towards you. “You came here because you wanted to, didn’t you? So why d’you want to leave?”

Oh, crackers. “Listen, buddy, this place is dope and all, but Keeping Up With The Kardashians is on tonight and I can’t miss that, so if you don’t mind opening that–”

“I don’t think so.”

And suddenly, OB Leona is very, very close to you, right up in your No-No Square, and he has this weirdly intense look in his eyes. His rough, calloused fingers coated in a thin layer of sand trace your cheekbone, the heat of magic warming your face gently.

Drip, drip, drip, goes the ink.

“A king has never ruled alone,” he tells you. “And I don’t intend to be the first one.”

“…Ok, but I don’t see what that has to do with–” And then, it hits you. “You’re in love with me?”

OB Leona grins, baring all his teeth. “Took you long enough to figure that out, Herbivore.” You’ve gotta be shitting me.

“…Ok!” you chirp. “That’s great! Amazing! Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious! Just… one thing.”

“If it’s about leaving, then I don’t want to hear it.”

“No, no, no!” You stroke OB Leona’s arm, hoping that might do something to calm him down. “It’s about temporarily leaving!”

OB Leona’s hands begin to glow, and you hastily add, “Emphasis on the ‘temporary!’”

“…” The glowing stops, thankfully.

“Leona, sweetheart, hear me out for a second, because I think you’ll like this.”

“You’d better make it quick.”

“You’re like, king now, right?”

“There’s no one else, so this realm has no choice.”

“…Great, great! Anyways, so what I’m saying, is, how would you feel about matching crowns!”

“…What?”

“Matching crowns! One for the king, and one for your consort! It can be my gift for you for Valentine’s!”

“I still don’t see the point.”

“W-Well, the thing is…” You quickly scrape your mind for some argument that would appeal to OB Leona, and to your delight, you find one. “You know, by matching with me, you’re kind of marking me as yours, yeah? Now doesn’t that butter your biscuit?”

“I don’t need a crown to mark you.” OB Leona grins that grin with all his teeth, and begins to lean closer to you. Oh shit, oh shit, red alert–

“But sweetheart, you would look really, really hot in a crown!”

Leona pauses. For a moment, there is silence. You hope it’s a good silence.

“…I can’t say,” Leona finally tells you, “that I don’t like the idea of making your heart race.”

And that sounds so much like the Real Leona, so much so that you feel your cheeks heat up and your heart flutter a little.

OB Leona releases you from his grasp, and snaps his fingers. Immediately, a portal opens, showing a deep, dark sea. Azul’s realm.

“Be quick about it,” and OB Leona grins that sharp grin of his again. “The longer you make me wait, the hungrier I’ll get.”

“Then drink milk,” you mutter to yourself, then leap through the portal and into the waters.

[neverwalka1one]

Magnus Protocol 18

In which Alice might not be getting out the corkboard and red string, but I am.

Note: Sure, Teddy can 'leave' to OIAR. Sure. Just can't get a job anywhere else. That's. So comforting.

Alice and Teddy are cute. Also, ... Alice as the office matchmaker? Huh. IDK. Was she trying to shove Sam and Teddy together because it obviously wouldn't work and thus was not worrying? Sticking a pin in that.

Hi Augustus, long time no hear!

Royal Mint Court... hey! I've been there! I mean, not _there_ there, but the Tower of London is literally across the street, and I've been there. Got some tasty roast chestnuts. ... So, across the street from where they used to put traitors, where they've executed people, where there's the ever-important ravens, etc etc. hmm.

Lena, your people skills are, as ever, astoundingly bad. I'm getting you one of those 'world's worst boss' cups. You can share with Elias.

Hi Augustus! Long time no hear!

Huh, another malnutrition case. Is this another Magnus Institute reject?

Another body that talks after death. Reciting a 'story'. Hey Medical Examiner dude, my buddy, my pal, I don't think this is fiction.

So, I'm clocking the Spider, the Lonely, the Spiral, the Corruption, the End, the Eye, maybe the Vast if I stretch a bit (I must be careful on the stairs, or they will break and I will fall)... that's more than half of the fears. Who else do we know that had multiple fears mark him?

So again: was she a reject from the Magnus Institute??

Hey Alice, I'll take the corkboard and red string, don't you worry.

... Is it just me, or does Alice's steadfast refusal to be curious sound a lot like S1!Jon viciously mocking real statements because he was convinced that if he didn't sound like he believed them, they'd leave him alone?

to be fair to Alice, if someone told me they didn't want the job they'd spent the last however long demanding to get because it wasn't 'fun', I'd also mock them. Please pick better words Gwen.

Oooh, Alice has picked up on Gwen's classism tendencies. And Gwen is not the one to protest the charge.

To be fair to Alice and Sam, if someone told me the super scary person that is making their dream job a nightmare was an annoying children's tv character, I to would mock the shit out of them. That sounds like a joke. It should be a joke.

Mr Bonzo is never a joke.

Mr Bonzo's on his way he wants to stay he wants to play

'Who keeps taking Georgie’s face' is not a question you ask of a baby, Georgie. Also, is this alt!universe Georgie?? She's got the vibe.

... Did Celia end up on the side of the road again? In her PJ's?

So just gonna throw this out: We've got dopplegangers. We've got bodies that sometimes forget to act like they're bodies or like they need air or blood or anything to work. We've got supposedly innocent people asking face-stealing questions of BABIES like that's a THING. Did this world get taken over by the Stranger? I'm JUST SAYING.

[kiwanopie]

Psych Kick

saiki k x reader (wc: 1k)

intrusive thoughts won on this one lads. [also, little reminder that saiki k is canonically asexual but coming from someone who’s on the ace/aro-spectrum who sometimes enjoys sex, i made it a little suggestive.] college au, duh.

“What? Big hotshot can’t join his friends for a hangout?”

“Hot-?” Saiki blows a short breath out of his nose as he adjusts his glasses. “Like I said, let's do it later.”

Nendo frowns. “Whyyy~”

“Must have another meeting with the president this time.” Hario you too?! “It’s best we let him go save the world again.”

“Why are you all being so bitter about this-“

“Come on! What could possibly be so important that you can’t hang out with your pals for once?” And now Kaido’s talking like Nendo. It’s best to cut this short. “We haven’t seen you in forever since that whole meteor thing! Do you really think you’re too good for us now?”

Saiki sighs.

There’s no way to go about saying this without getting haggled immediately afterwards. Especially given the extreme circumstance. He’s not stupid. He’s not shallow but he’s not blind either. Ever since this whole thing came about he’s been chiding himself on picking so outside of his current dispositions, making himself so open to attention and fighting that pesky feeling of being so okay with it. His first idea was to keep it a secret, but now with his feelings - new feelings in the way; he has to stop himself from making a show of it like someone he knows would. For a second he wonders if this was the kind of path that drove his parents to madness.

His cheeks grow hot as he thumbs over his phone in his hands, and at the very least, he can be thankful it’s just these four for now.

He wants to turn his head. “My… girlfriend-“

“Stop lying!”

He didn’t even let him get it out!

Torituska pouts from his chair across the room, sitting backwards on a computer seat that turns his expression mushy as he leans against it. “Seriously, if you’re gonna make up something, at least come up with a more believable lie.” Now you’re just being mean.

“Hah? What’s so unbelievable about me having a girlfriend?”

“You can hear yourself when you speak right?”

He’s gonna start scowling at this rate.

“Wait, hold on.” Hario repositions his back against the bed as he but’s in, raising his hands to interject. There’s a look on his face like he’s trying to placate the two. “Let’s not act like Saiki isn’t a spirited guy! He’s helpful and faithful to his ideals! And his personality isn’t even that bad.” You’re not helping.

“He doesn’t even own a porn mag. - And his search history is squeaky clean.“ What does one have to do with the other?

“If you have a girlfriend, why haven’t we met her yet?”

That would be a pretty good question. Had one quick glance along the room not make him shiver at the prospect of introducing them to his pride and joy. God, he’s starting to sound like his dad.

“Is she in our lectures? Does she go to this university? Does she know you exist?”

“Does she belong to the Dark Reunion?”

“Do you own a pair of her panties?”

Do you know what you’re asking him right now? Aside from a quick flick of his finger and a harsh eraser mark on Torituska’s forehead, Saiki turns his head toward the door in favor of a response. He can barely think under these conditions to begin with. No better that he knows his friends don’t plan on going anywhere even after he leaves his dorm for the night, and with his luck might even be here by morning. But that’s beside the fact. If these guys don’t believe he has a girlfriend, they’ll never believe what he’s leaving so prematurely to do.

Does he keep that box of condoms in his closet or his bathroom?

“What’s her name?”

Saiki’s lips twitch up as he reaches into that black box tucked near his extra blankets, half inclined to hum it as it rolls over his tongue. “_____.”

Hario’s mouth shapes into an astonished little “o” as Kaido tilts his head, too preoccupied with that foreign shade of rouge on his friend’s face to notice Torituska’s gone pale. “Sounds foreign?”

Saiki glances at Nendo’s puzzled expression and follows it to Torituska’s ghostly body. Decidedly he should leave before things get loud. “It is.”

“W-Wait you mean,” Hario blushes. That’s appropriate. “______ from the-“

“I’ll kill you!” That’s not.

The pointed finger keeps Tori frozen in the air but his strength is enough to make Saiki start to strain. Maybe it should stay a secret. He sighs at what’s sure to be some psychosis driven tirade that he really doesn’t have the time to sit through.

“What does a guy like you get off on trying to call dibs on my precious, _____?! Peon’s like you shouldn’t be able to speak her name let alone spread lies about being her boyfriend! What are you some kind of stalker or something?! A pervert?! Were you gonna stalk her outside of her house and steal her used gum out of the garbage near the gate?!” Why was that last part so specific…?

“______’s really smart and cool and beautiful…” Hario scratches behind his pinkening ears. “And she’s really good at fighting despite looking so soft all over. - If you’re really dating ______ then…. Well it’s certainly hard to believe…”

Saiki’s brow twitches a little. “I didn’t know you were all such big fans.”

“I don’t know her. But she definitely doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d date Saiki-kun.” Kaido adds.

Saiki’s phone buzzes in his hand as he sighs. And he doesn’t even have to look. He was supposed to be there minutes ago and knowing you you’ve probably gotten needier by the second. Although, that might not be so bad.

“I gotta go.” He pockets his phone.

Torituska knocks him back with a hard push as he breaks out of his bind. “You’re probably using your telepathic abilities to trick her into dating you! You sick-“

His condoms fall out of his pocket.

The silence that falls over the room is deafening as the five men freeze in place, eyes immediately pulled to the golden wrapper making waves on plastic as it's illuminated by the ceiling light overhead. And he’s sure that they’ve all collectively stopped breathing. Never mind that his friends now know what kind of heat he’s packing in his trousers, but there’s multiple of them. If the whole group was here he’d be half considering the most appropriate way to ditch town after something like this, but in this case he’s only considering the best way to get out of this situation before all hell breaks loose.

He’ll teleport. Like he should’ve minutes ago. Though this time with likely less precision.

Saiki reaches for the grouped up squares and staches them in his pocket, phasing his overnight bag into his hands as he does. “If I’m not back by noon, push the mail in.”

He glances at a lifeless Torituska. “Bye.”

He’s gone in a blink.

reblog if you personally have been targeted by Torituska, you may be entitled to compensation

[gothamitelove]

I had a request for gotham Victor Zsasz if you’re up for writing it :) (it can be written in any format I don’t mind)

Victor x gn!mute! Reader where R is a good friend of Oswalds, and Vic is protective and has a soft spot for them. Maybe they get hurt or something so Victor takes it upon himself to teach whoever did it a lesson.

so i had a whole thing written for this and then the site crashed so here's the recreation of it!

he's taken with you almost immediately.

well, first he's intrigued- who are you and how have you managed to get on cobblepot's good side? so he's eager to meet you, even if he doesn't show it

and then he meets you and thinks, well, i think i know why penguin likes them so much. you're quiet. in fact, he's never heard you speak a word. it leaves oswald all the time he needs to get all his thoughts out, and then work through them. (this is not the entire reason oswald likes you, but look it doesn't hurt)

victor does his utmost to get closer to you. he tells you jokes, compliments you, and his entire goth bitch squad (meant positively ofc) basically adopts you on the spot

you guys get milkshakes a lot.

but then one day somebody decides that to get at oswald, they're gonna mess with you, and that's when victor gets pissed.

not even gonna lie to you pal this person probably ends up dead. if not by oswald's hand then absolutely by victor's.

he will probably show you the tally mark he made for them

"don't worry, i took care of it," he'll say, and give you a kiss on the forehead.

you will never hear from or about this person again, but after this incident, everyone treats you with a lot more respect.