#a little bit of adrenaline is awesome

[toonfinatic]

Ok speaking of creepypasta, i was one of those kids that LOVED anything related to horror or cryptids or paranormal and actively seeked content that would scare the Shit out of me and then had trouble sleeping and being alone at home

Like i was absolutely terrified of smiledog but searched the picture on purpose every once in a while and then when i tried to sleep the picture would be fresh in my mind and make me unable to sleep. Stupidest idiot of all time

[the-ellia-west]

How to make your readers Feel emotions for Dummies

(Characters crying edition!)

So... You can't write characters crying? (Or you just want to read this for some reason) Well, neither do I so let's get right into it! I should be packing for a trip but oh well who cares? Not me!

Yeah. Your character is crying and you want to know...

How to not make it cringe af

How to make the Readers relate to it

How to make the readers not only relate to it, but feel DEPRESSED

Step 1 - Do NOT over describe it I've tried to write this so many times and failed that I've realized it's just like good horror. If anything, don't describe the tears, describe their impact, describe the horror of why they're happening, what they're doing to your character. (Example at the end)

Step 2 - Make it at a time when we've had time to connect to the character Put it in the middle of the 1st or only book at the earliest. Other than that, put it later. The more time you spend with the characters, the more their breaking down will emotionally scar you. And that's what we want

Step 3 - Describe other actions for the character Deep breaths, falling to their knees, screaming, choking, cradling the body of a loved one, sad dialogue, other concerned characters, ect. Actions speak louder than words and that is sooooo true in writing. This one of those rare cases where show don't tell is a must.

Ex. (I'm using A and B for the character names cause I'm lazy)

The world seemed to slow as everything came crashing down around her as his body hit the ground, a soft thud the only sound she heard as the grass slowly turned from the light lively emerald of life, to the deep crimson red of death. He was gone. She ran over to him, his quickly fading labored breaths and her crunching footsteps the only sound as the sun shone into her eyes, blinding her. She dropped to her knees beside him, the tears already beginning to fall as she began to choke on her own words, unable to speak as she grabbed his hand. It felt warm in her palm as she clutched his hand close to her chest as the world came crashing back. The burning light of the sun in her eyes, the heat of it and the adrenaline on her skin, her brother's cooling hand, his raspy breaths, her sobbing gasps, the clash of metal against metal, the falling bodies, the raining blood. Then the screams. "A! A! What are you doing?! We're in the middle of a fight! Don't you remember what I taught you?" B nearly screamed at her, causing A to cry out in a mix of anguish and agony, panic finally reaching her as the impact of what had just happened finally hit her.

(Side note: If you liked the example, it will be part of my Fantasy Book series Coming out soon! More in my profile if you're at all interested)

That wasn't as sad as it could of been because you didn't know the characters, but it's definitely better than just an extended description of crying.

Anyway, thank you lovelies and I hope this helps you even a little bit! Love you, continue being awesome!

[Edit: WHY DO YOU LIKE THIS SO MUCH WHAT DID I DO TO GET SO MANY PEOPLE TO LIKE THIS???? I am flattered... Thank you?]

[junosmindpalace]

SHE WANTS YOU!

🎧 you’re proud to be my man, and i won’t let you go!

synopsis: they just can't see what a particular fangirl of theirs is trying to do...with the msby 4!

content: litte bits of insecure reader and little bit of clueless msby. but fears are put to rest. fluffy. casual intimacy. they are Smitten & loyal bfs

total wc: 4k

BOKUTO: Kotaro has always been good at handling difficult people. It just wasn’t in his nature to think the worst of them, and he handles even intentional malice by interpreting it as genuine questions or comments that needed a response to. And so he’d reflect and answer honestly how he felt, and that was often times enough to shut those kinds of people down. 

Even the seemingly most malicious kinds of people Bokuto eagerly approached in a friendly manner and treated as a close friend. That, of course, included his fans. 

He's always been one to enjoy basking in the limelight, being praised for his strengths and acknowledged for his easy going attitude. It was a great bolster to his self-esteem; he loved the people, and boy did they love him. 

It’s because of Kotaro’s easy going attitude that made forming a relationship with him very easy. 

Boundaries can become more easily crossed, but Kotaro doesn’t have very many, which only encourages fans to attempt to see just how far they can tread over the line before they’re pushed back on the other side of it. 

Of course, there was nothing wrong with fan interactions, especially on your end; your heart swelled when you saw the ways his fans supported him and how much joy your boyfriend took in connecting with them. Their support meant just as much as his love for the sport he plays.

But there’s one fan you just can’t help but get a bad feeling from.

It’s more instinctive than anything, but the fact that you’re a little too familiar with her doesn’t sit right with you. She's somehow managed to catch Bokuto at all his events, and talk with him outside of matches before he's due to depart from the arena. She's always eager to catch him, even at the very last second, but since it’s Bokuto, he has no qualms, and happily stays to chat for a couple of minutes before the coach insists the team needs to get a move on. 

And then she’d start to slowly up the physical touch, from brushing her hand against his skin while reaching for something for him to sign, to fully grasping his arm as she laughs at something he said. 

You knew he wouldn’t believe you at first when you brought up your concerns. 

“Really? I mean, I don't blame her for coming back for more; I'm awesome! But she’s only a fan!”

This one particular person you had a bad feeling about was not exempted from your boyfriend's goodwill, despite over time becoming more obvious with her intentions. Eventually, she began treating him like an old friend with some underlying feelings. 

“I don't think she has bad intentions.” he’d answer honestly in response to your concern. Of course, Bokuto doesn’t want to believe that this nice fan of his has an underlying agenda with her eager conversations, but he can at least see that the situation has been stressing you out with each reluctant drop of the subject, lip jutted out as if not fully soothed by his reassurance. 

She’s there in the crowd again, and you know that after the game, no matter the outcome, she’ll go looking for your boyfriend as he sticks around for a couple of interviews to conclude the day, and you dread it. The game goes smoothly, with Kotaro in perfect form, something you know he wasn’t able to achieve very often back in his high school days, and you can’t help but marvel sometimes at the amount of progress he’s made.

When the Jackals eventually file out of the gym after their triumphant win, you make a beeline for each other. He quickly runs to meet you halfway in one of the halls, caught up in his adrenaline high from the game as he wraps his arms around your waist and spins you off the ground. He’s sweaty, and how he still has energy is beyond you, but you don’t care and immediately reciprocate the affection, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“Did you see me? Did you see how amazing I was out there?” he badgers excitedly as he puts you down, and you nod with a grin. 

“You did so good, Ko! That spike in the final set was—“ 

“Kotaro! You were incredible!”

Your grip on his forearms immediately tighten, and the two of you both look over your shoulder to see her jogging up to the two of you with a breathless laugh. 

“As always, of course. I knew you’d be able to power through their defense!” 

“Well, not always.” Bokuto let’s out a little laugh and peeks from the corner of his eye at your tense smile. She seems to take notice as well, and hers only widens. 

“Give yourself more credit,” she scoffs playfully. “I noticed even in this game that you—“ 

“I appreciate the kind words, but I can’t stay to chat.” he smiles at her, wide and genuine, and you look down in surprise when you feel his arm wrap around you, his hand squeezing your shoulder as he brings you to his side. 

“My partner here is treating me to a celebratory meal!” 

The two of you both blink in surprise at his words. Typically no matter how crowded his schedule, he always spares a couple of minutes to chat. 

“Oh, well… I suggest this one sushi place nearby. I can pull up the location!”

“That's alright! Y/N already promised to take me to one of my favorite places. It was nice seeing you again!”

And with that, he takes your hand and drags you off with a bounce in his step and a smile still plastered on his face.

There isn’t a single indication that any of his words were fake or had a malicious undertone meant to humiliate her. Only that he was vocal in that he prioritized you over her. 

You gave him a teasing smile. “So, when did I say I'd be treating you?” 

“You mean you won’t?!” he whips his head toward you with a heartbroken expression, as if having fully expected that you’d reward him for his incredible performance. 

“No, no, of course I will. Anything you want.” you grinned, bumping his shoulder as his grip on your hand tightened and his smile widened, and he continued to boast about how great his plays were. 

He later posts a message of thanks to his fans for all the support he received for the match on his socials with a photo of the two of you enjoying your meals. You can now be confident that no other fan will be testing their luck with his boundaries any time soon.

MIYA: Atsumu is solely focused on himself. On his plays. On sharpening his skill. On having his fun.

And, of course, on you. 

Atsumu, as much as it has been stereotyped for him, is not one to look for validation in his fans. Whether they’re a fangirl or an old man in the stands who's watched the game all his life, he does not care for their criticisms nor their compliments. The only people he at all considers feedback from is his coach, his brother, and you. That doesn’t mean he’s immune to what they say about each one of his plays, however. He gets down when the commentators call out a bad play, and pumped when the stadium roars with cheers for him. 

But because of this sort of suave personality of his, people fit him into the mould of a playboy. And because he has such high expectations of the people around him, people have assumed that he had high expectations of his romantic partners as well.

Someone rich, someone famous, someone absolutely drop dead gorgeous. That was who the majority of Atsumu's fans assume is his criteria for a partner. And so, when he’s spotted out with a celebrity he’s been working closely with for a modeling partnership, one that happens to exceed all of those expectations, it’s no surprise that dating rumors regarding the two of them being in secret kahoots start to circulate among not only their individual fanbases, but the sports community as well. 

Multiple comments claiming the encounters to be a “soft launch” made your eye twitch as you encountered them under related posts. You couldn’t help but sometimes find yourself laughing at those who insist that it’s obvious they’re in love with one another. 

Perhaps the celebrity he’s been hanging with was in love with him, as she hasn’t been the least bit shameless in expressing her admiration and adoration for your boyfriend, but Atsumu had not the slightest bit of romantic interest for her. You knew through his exasperated rants about her being difficult and obnoxious. But, of course, nobody else knew. 

Still, he works with her for quite a bit of time. And though you know Atsumu isn’t the type to be disloyal, certainly not toward you, you can’t help but let the rumors get to your head sometimes, and in turn an insecurity manifests in the form of an ache in your chest or a lump in your throat. It doesn't help the fact that this celebrity is constantly posting her time with him online, and “playfully” validating comments that ship the two of them together. 

He tells you to get off of social media when you get down about the situation. It just isn’t worth the mental torture; and besides, their relationship is strictly professional. It's the only reason why she’s so friendly. For a man who loves to bask in whatever praise he’s given, he sure seems oblivious to the very obvious clues she’s been dropping him. He has to believe it’s strictly the guise of accomplishing successful business. 

Still, it’s not like you make a conscious decision to go against his words and subject yourself to further irritation and insecurity. You couldn’t help yourself; you knew very well that, compared to her, you were a nobody. You couldn’t compete with everything she had. 

You slowly started to agree with the comments who argued that they should get together; they do look pretty good together, they are extremely compatible. And above all else, she could probably support him way better than you ever could. You swear to yourself you don’t feel jealous, bitter, petty--not in the slightest.

But the sour expression Atsumu comments on one evening while the two of you lounge on your couch as you yet again scroll through comments claiming your boyfriend would suit someone not like you has you reflecting otherwise. 

“What’s with the look? Reading the news?”

“Mm.” Is your vague reply, eyes not peeling away from the screen in front of you. Atsumu’s curiosity grows, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“What’s it say?” 

A moment of silence between the two of you as you continue scrolling. When you finally process the question and silence, you inhale sharply and finally look up at him, closing your phone and setting it on the coffee table beside you. “No, it’s nothing. Just something online.” 

“Ugh. Don’t tell me you’ve been scrolling through those comments again.”

You shoot him a glare at his insensitivity, but also at how quickly he was to figure it out. The sour look on your face has become synonymous with that topic that Atsumu could easily recognize as the source of your frustration.

“Fine. I won’t tell you.”

He groans as he collapses on top of you, closing his eyes and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You grunt in pain at the sudden weight, and still annoyed from his previous comment, you try to pry his face away, which only makes Atsumu stubbornly latch even harder onto you. “Atsumu!”

“I told you, those people have no idea what they’re talking about. She’s insufferable.”

“I know.”

It’s a statement, but the sad tone in which you say it makes Atsumu’s heart sink. He opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up at you, chin digging into the side of your arm. “You’re way prettier.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks.” 

“And your place is nicer. And your food is tastier. And your humor is better than hers.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh as you feel your heart lighten a little at his attempts at picking you up, and Atsumu feels his own growing lighter, too. “Don’t tell Osamu about the food thing.”

“Oh, no, his is still better than yours.”

“Of course it is.” You reply back as if it were hardly a matter that needed to be debated. 

Atsumu was good at this; making you smile, making you laugh, making you feel loved and wanted. It didn’t take long for him to stomp on the insecurities that managed to manifest in your heart in order to lessen their load on you. He wouldn’t stand for his partner to feel inadequate compared to someone else, especially since Atsumu chose you. You and your wit, your kindness, your passion, your talent, your everything. 

He stays over that night as he often does, and he knows he really shouldn’t do this, but the people he cares about came before anything else. And what’s the worst it could do, really?, responding to a couple of comments?

Needless to say that Atsumu’s replies talking you up about how great you are under his shippers’ comments make headlines on news articles the next day--and show the world just who his heart truly belongs to regardless of who you were. 

HINATA: Much about him is different, upgraded. His technical skill has immensely bolstered since his high school days. He's able to pull off more in games; impressive feats achieved by his lightning quick reflexes and speed, once aiding him in his high school signature quick now aiding him in setting and receiving, sharpened by his intense training in the South. Even his physique is different; still shorter than most players you’d encounter in the realm of volleyball, but he’s grown a few inches and packed muscle all around. If that wasn’t enough proof of his hard work, his tan surely gave away just how much he dedicated himself to the sport with all the time he spent out in the sun training. 

All of these things, along with his impressive performance on the court, have made Shoyo Hinata quite popular, and not simply for what people used to cheer him on for; being the underdog, or one half of a fearsome duo. His journey as a player aided him in his career, and all on his own has he established himself as an indomitable force. 

People admire him for that. You admire him for that. You couldn’t blame the people who were so amazed and star stricken by him; how could you when you were as well?

But sometimes it went overboard, and sometimes it seemed like you were the only person who took notice. Sometimes this one sided observation was accidental; he’s too absorbed in his game; in the blood rushing to his ears, in the thrill of a good game-- that he just doesn’t notice. Sometimes you purposely keep the observation one-sided; these kinds of fans are inevitable, and the rational part of you knows they won’t compromise your relationship by any means. 

There's one enthusiastic interviewer that’s a fan of Shoyo’s, and that he’s very friendly with; as he is with all of them. But this one in particular has managed to latch onto him because of it. You see her and her crew at every one of his games, big or small, and always openly expresses her very immense love for the sport; and for him. 

Of course, Shoyo only understands “volleyball”, and you know that he’s always been giddy over being shown on the front covers or interviewed online, and so he’s always eager to accept a conversation with her, especially since she’s so friendly and knowledgeable.

iIt’s late in yours and Shoyo’s apartment when they run the interviews and live games from a big game earlier that season. As they start to discuss the Black Jackals, you call for him over your shoulder in the kitchen, where he’s preparing dinner.

“Sho, hurry, it’s starting!” 

You can hear the increased urgency in his movements, but they die out as you watch one of his interviews from a very familiar news channel come onto screen. Your boyfriend, from hours earlier, stares happily at the interviewer behind the lens.

“Your skill and strength was absolutely incredible in this game- as it always is. You were also very impressive in high school, you must’ve been really popular—especially with the girls.”

You felt your smile drop slightly, not even hearing the curses coming out of Shoyo’s mouth as he fumbled around in the kitchen. 

The Shoyo on screen chuckled and rubbed his neck. “Oh, no, not really. Many didn’t even believe I was a starter!” 

“Oh, that’s me!” Present Shoyo struggling with your food calls out excitedly from behind the kitchen wall. 

“I know!” you laugh over your shoulder, and you recognize the interviewer’s also intermingling with yours, which only makes your irritation grow. 

“You’re so impressive though, especially now! I'm sure there isn’t a single person out there who wouldn’t want to be with you.” 

You could feel a vein in your head pop and your eye twitch, but you were caught off guard by on- screen-Shoyo’s next words.

“Well, I wouldn’t really know; I have an amazing partner who I'm always looking at, so if there were, I wouldn't have noticed!” he laughed, and it’s so sincere that your heart flutters at the honesty behind it.

“Ohh, that’s so sweet.” you hear the interviewer speak again, and you laugh at the significantly less cheer in her voice. “They must all envy—?“

“Y/N!” he interrupts to introduce you with a cheerful nod. “Yeah, I'm not sure. I know I used to envy their admirers.” he reflects with a short laugh. “But they’re truly my biggest supporter, and always put up with my schedules and drills. There’s one drill in particular actually—“ 

He goes back to droning on about the subject at hand, about his volleyball training and how it impacted his performance in the game, but by the time Shoyo from behind the kitchen wall finally arrives into the living room, the main spokesperson has moved on to discussing other players and matches. 

“Aw, did I miss it?” Shoyo cries disappointedly as he speeds into the room, sliding your plate down on the coffee table in front of you and taking a seat beside you on the couch with his own. 

You grin at him, mind still on his words from before and you nudged him. “Took you long enough.”

“You could’ve helped.” he grumbles and you kiss his cheek sympathetically with a small sorry, and from the way he brightens and his cheeks tint pink, you can tell you’re immediately forgiven. 

And as he gushes in awe of the other players’ highlights and interviews, a small part of you can’t help but think back on his words and feel a little smug with yourself when you also remember the interviewer’s awkward disposition after he had brought you up. You can’t help but be comforted to know that the innocent mention of you was not only a reminder to her, but to those like her, that his heart was fully committed to you and only you.  

SAKUSA: If there was one aspect of Sakusa’s career he particularly disliked, it was the fans. 

It was evident that he couldn’t care less about the fame he had or the things people were willing to do for him or had to say about him (unless they were directly interfering with his life), and you couldn’t help but feel some sort of relief to know Kiyoomi would not spare a single glance at some of his more fiercely devoted fans.

Yet of course, your problem had to lie outside of that realm.

Your problem was not an avid fan, who had the circumstances of a parasocial relationship to comfort you, but a colleague of Kiyoomi’s whom the Jackals worked pretty closely with; and happened to be quite a fan of your boyfriends.

You felt bad getting worked up over something so petty, but her persistence in trying to extend her relationship with Sakusa into something friendlier couldn’t help but sound off alarm bells in your head. You already knew that your boyfriend had a million other nuisances to deal with, and you had no intention of adding onto that list with your selfishness and unjustified uneasiness, especially when you knew your boyfriend had strict boundaries he wouldn’t compromise for anyone. 

Well, almost anyone. 

She was shamelessly unprofessional at times, attempting to emulate your affectionate behavior towards him in hopes that she’ll receive the same sort of submissive response that only you could get out of him. 

Your boyfriend, for the sake of keeping good business, tolerated the over-friendliness, and saw it as nothing more than an attempt at trying to seem more casual and easy going in a business setting. 

You’ve attempted to subtly bring up your discomfort at times when she got too out of hand for your liking, typically when the two of you were in the car or lounging around at home. You’d ask his thoughts about her behavior or her personality, to which he respond with something that amounted to the conclusion that: “she’s just doing her job.” 

She’s tagged along on one of the away games that you so happen to also be coming along on. She's been quite enthusiastic on sharing her research on the area they’re staying in to him, and she doesn’t spare a single detail as he prepares to head out for the day. 

“--and apparently the food in this area is extremely good. Everyone says that you can’t visit without trying it. There’s this restaurant in particular not too far from the training center! I’m sure I can get the two of us reservations before we--” 

“Why would we do that?” he asks suddenly, obviously already irritated by her incessant conversation, turning toward her with a frown. 

Her expression is one of shock and slight embarrassment for a moment before she recollects herself. 

“Just…you know, to sample the cuisine!”

“Is it business related?”

Again, blunt and to the point, the woman needs a moment before she responds.

“Well--”

“My partner and I have plans while we’re in the area. You can talk to my manager about scheduling a meeting regarding any matters you have to discuss. I've already discussed with them my availability.” 

You start to approach him as he finishes setting the remainder of his gear into his training bag, and the woman yet again tries to recollect herself after suddenly being met with the fact that Kiyoomi was already taken. He looks up at you waiting for him by the gymnasium doors, and doesn’t even spare the woman a single glance or wave before making his way over.

He bumps your shoulder as he strides in step with you, mumbling “let’s get out of here.” and then “are your hands clean?”

And when you mumble a yeah in response, he reaches down to take one in his, intertwining your fingers and leaving just enough room for the woman watching your backs to be able to see the rare show of affection. 

You’re caught off guard by the sudden pda, and glance over your shoulder, then back at him in confusion. He feels your quizzical gaze on him and sighs exasperatedly. “She wasn’t just doing her job…”

You couldn’t help but hum a little pleased with yourself, puffing out your chest a little when you realized that she didn’t get her way, and squeeze his hand a little tighter. He shoots you a look at you a little with a roll of his eyes and squeezes back. “We’re going back to the room.”

“Actually, I heard there was a really nice restaurant around here. I was thinking of trying to get us reservations.”

He stared down at your eager smile and bright eyes and found his resolve waning the longer he did so. He turned his gaze back toward the front. “Okay. Room first, though.” 

[hotsingledragon]

quickies!

jake sully x na’vi! afab!reader

warnings: explicit sexual content, MDNI

jake lovvvesss quickies! he’s so eager for you, how can he help himself when you’re so pretty that it’s actually distracting?

“c’mon, baby! no one’s around,” jake would shout, spreading his arms wide and turning to gesture towards the dense jungle surrounding you.

and sure you’re supposed to be training him to be one of the people, you have been for weeks now. but you’ve also been kind of platonically fucking him? it’s cool, it’s fine. and definitely platonic.

“shhh!! tìfnu.” you hiss at him, tail thrashing even as your cheeks burn. and of course jake notices, a wide smile taking over his features. you turn to avoid his gaze, marching off and leaving him to trail behind you.

it had started when jake had bonded with bob, and you’d immediately taken off on your own ikran to ride alongside him. you both weave through thick vines and bank off the mountains, laughing and cheering with one another.

it’s nightfall before you land near hometree, still pumping with adrenaline as jake walks alongside you.

“-and when we scaled that huge mountain? we were going so fast! god that was fucking awesome.” he boasts, movements animated with his charming smile revealing his teeth. you laugh with jake, your shoulder bumping into his. you can feel him looking at you, but you do not dare to glance over at him; otherwise he might catch the shine of affection in your eyes.

but then jake is suddenly reaching for you, gently taking your wrist and halting your steps. you turn curiously and jake is immediately in your space, dragging you in and standing so close that you have to tilt your chin to meet his eyes. his hands caress your arms, touch flitting over your shoulders before cradling your jaw in his large palms.

you’re holding your breath, eyes wide as you try to read his thoughts. his eyes are low, flickering over your features then settling on your lips. his tongue swipes across his bottom lip before he mutters, “i wanna try somethin’,” and jake is leaning close, mouth gently pressing against your own.

your heart feels like it’s in your throat, but you can’t let your nerves get the best of you, not when jake has presented the chance you’ve been pining for. you kiss him back, and you’re rewarded as jake hums, pushing open mouthed kisses against your lips and his thick arms wrapping around you.

and from there jake had you spread on your back, his large body covering yours as he rocked into you, his heavy cock filling you like you’ve never felt before. and maybe the encounter was a bit more intimate than you’ll admit, as it undoubtedly flipped a switch in your relationship dynamic with jake.

so naturally quickies we’re becoming a semi-regular thing!

you continue on the path, shaking away various memories of jake’s hands, his tongue, his dick. the frequency of your little escapades is beginning to impede on both of your responsibilities, and the thought dampens your mood for more reason than one.

but jake severely lacks self control when it comes to you, you’re still so distracting even when you’re trying to be a good mentor! your hips are swaying gorgeously and your hair is so pretty down to your waist, leading to your plump little bum and your tail that flicks in slight annoyance. in fact, jake is so distracted by you that he leaps to sneak up on you, twirling your shoulders to push you against the nearest tree.

the impact makes you yelp, but it’s muffled as jake smashes his mouth against yours in a messy kiss; teeth scraping, his tongue slipping against yours. his thigh wedges between yours, effectively pinning you between his hard body and the thick tree stump.

“y’r such a tease, ya’ know it?” jake huffs against your mouth, licking at your lip, grinding his erection into your lower belly.

“jake!” you hiss, your palms pressing into his firm chest, less heat behind your tone than you intended.

but jake is still crowding against you, his eyes sweeping over your features. “what? cmon, baby, tell me you don’t want to,” he soothes and it’s so different from the jake you know during training; the one who’s a bit clumsy but still brazen and lighthearted. no, this jake is so much bigger than you, large shoulders caging you like a predator and gaze burning your skin, dilated eyes glancing over your body through those ridiculous eyelashes.

his breath fans over your cheeks as he looks down on you. “lemme take you, right here,” he rumbles, voice low and his accent heavy. jake is pulling you flush against him, sure to brush his fingers over those spots that make you shiver. jake’s hands are low on your hips, toying with the string of your loincloth until the knot is slipping loose and the material pools at your feet. despite him, you shake your head with a disagreeing pout.

jake scoffs, smirking and leaning close. “no? i know you want it, baby. i can fucking smell you,” his voice hisses, lips brushing your ear. his fingers ghost over your navel, and suddenly he cups your heat with his palm. when he’s greeted with your hot slick coating his fingers, he hums. “see? that pussy’s just aching for me,” and he’s sure to spread your wetness through your folds before easing two fingers inside of you, thumb pressing into your clit. the pleasure makes your eyes flutter closed, your head knocking back into the tree.

jake hums, leaving a wet kiss on your chin. “cmon, say it. tell me you want this cock.” as he works his fingers faster, drawing a whimper out of you.

“just-just be quick! we have much to do.” you blush, unable to deny yourself the unwavering pleasure of jake’s touch.

and your words make his entire body light up, and jake is smothering you in another tight embrace. “god. yes, thank you. i’ll make it quick. then we can train together for the rest of the day, okay?” he hums in between open mouthed kisses along the column of your throat. he’s rushing to untie his own loincloth, tongue clicking in frustration when he has to pull away from you to fumble with the knot. his efforts make you giggle, and the sound has him glancing up at you.

“you think s’funny?” he huffs, still struggling with the strap. you continue to laugh, your arms wrapping around his torso until your touch runs over the base of his tail. jake’s breath hitches, his lips parting and eyes blown wide.

“you are impatient,” you tease him, nimble fingers taking over and loosening the knot with ease. jake blows out the breath he was holding, pulling you by your waist.

“cant help myself, baby, y’r just too pretty,” and his loincloth slips past his hips. jake pins you to the tree, kisses you as he takes his cock in hand and slides the thick tip along your slit. he grunts at the sensation, but then he’s pushing into you, and you both moan as his girth slides into you.

jake hums when he’s filled you to the hilt, your tight heat contracting around his cock. he grinds himself into you, the base of his length pressing into your clit.

“think i’m addicted to you,” he huffs, rutting into you with a barely controlled rhythm, heavy breaths rushing past his lips. “can’t get enough of ya,” his words lilting as a whimper takes over his voice. jake’s fucking into you rabidly, thrusts causing you jostle in his hold.

“hold onto me, there ya’ go.” and then jake is shoving his forearms under the crook of your knees, lifting until your legs are dangling in the air, his larger, stronger body is supporting nearly all your weight while he thrusts into you. it forces you to steady yourself, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. the position changes the angle of his thrusts, and suddenly jake’s cock is repeatedly punching into that really sensitive spot inside your tight, spongy walls. the pleasure aches inside of you, making you shout and claw at jake’s biceps.

“jake!”

“hm? you like how i’m fuckin’ you, babe?”

and jake presses his forehead into yours, meeting your gaze. his features pinch with a scowl as he sets a brutal pace, growling as he watches your jaw drop with a broken moan spilling from your plump lips. your whines become headier with each drag of his cock.

“oh fuck,”

“ya’ gonna come? yeah? that’s it, baby, come all over my dick,” and jake’s fingers are swiping quickly over your clit. you choke on a gasp as your orgasm hits you like a wall, eyes rolling into your skull with the overwhelming sensation.

“look at me sweet girl, keep those pretty eyes on me,” and you’re looking back at jake, teary eyed and your plump mouth letting out these small whimpers each time his cock fucks into you.

jake’s leaning all of this weight into you, thrusts punctuated by these little whimpers of “yes, yes, yes,” that jake clenches behind his teeth, loosing all rhythm and rutting into your swollen walls to meet his own pleasure.

you’re wrapping around jake, head tucking into his shoulder as your bear the overstimulation. “please come, ma’jake,” you cry. it’s the first time you’ve used the endearment, which sends jake’s heart lurching in his chest and his orgasm tugging inside his belly.

“ohhh fuck, oh my fuck,” he moans, feeling the crescendo of his orgasm as he takes you to the hilt, spurting his hot cum inside of you. jake keeps you pinned, hot breath puffing against your cheeks as he rides the last shocks of pleasure.

when you tap his shoulder with a weak call of his name, jake lowers your body, supporting your shaky limbs as you remember what it feels like to stand.

and jake will spend at least another ten minutes kissing you against the tree, lazily swiping his tongue over your own. you jolt when his hand slithers between your thighs, gathering the mess of cum dripping from your folds and bringing it to your lips. the action used to be unfamiliar, but now you’re immediately taking his digits into your mouth, licking and swallowing the salty substance. the sight of your hollowed cheeks and fluttering lashes has jake groaning and claiming your mouth again.

“you’re so good to me, angel, so sweet an’ fuckin’ sexy,” jake tells you, leaving a few lingering kisses at the corner of your mouth.

he’ll tie your cloth around your hips, securing the knot at the base of your tail before leaving a quick slap on your bum, chuckling when you squeal and it quickly turns into a scowl that’s too cute for your own good. “let’s go hon’, losin’ daylight!” jake taunts, like it was your idea to fuck in the forest.

you’ll continue on the path, blushing madly at the thought of what you just did, what jake just did to you, out in the open for everyone and eywa to witness. you shake the thoughts, reminding jake of the tasks for today, using your ‘teacher voice’ as jake calls it.

“okay, okay,” he sighs in mock exasperation, but then jake is pressing into your back, his fingers brushing the base of your skull. his palm gently wraps around your neck and he’s leaning in close to whisper in your ear.

“gonna have’ta fuck you again when we get home,” jake soothes into your ear, but some part of you already knew that, had become familiar with this routine over the last weeks. your heart thuds when jake mentions home, like his home is with you, like he wouldn’t be anywhere else on the planet.

na’vi terms:

-tìfnu- quiet/ silence

notes: okay i can’t help but get a lil sappy with jake! that’s my baby, let me indulge okay? hope u enjoyed! leave some love 🩷

[strawurberries]

Oh my god! Berry I had an idea and I had to come running to you with it cause I thought you'd enjoy it too (and cause your writings awesome) but,

A Soulmate AU where you can hear the other person's thoughts?

With Vash, Wolfwood and nai please! (Separate obviously cause I honestly think having all three as soulmates would just be too much xD)

Whether headcannons or a little scenario thingy I leave up to you 😁

Hope you have an awesome day! - 🍰anon

Soulmate Head cannons

Summary: Head cannons with little drabbles about Soulmates <3

Authors Note: I'm sorry this took so long! Finals are finally over so I can focus on writing :) I hope you all enjoy!! Also I wouldn't mind having all three as soul mates. . . but ya know 😂

Warnings: Self-hate, mild sexual themes, angst, cursing, mentions of religion and murder.

Vash didn’t know what an ocean looked like—deep, painfully blue, and so cooling yet full of dangers unimaginable—but he assumed it had to be something similar to the sight before him: sand dunes rose and fell like the chest of some great giant, tumbling across the horizon without thought or remorse. Compared to the vastness of sand before him, he was nothing but a speck of dust—smaller than the grains of sand that covered this desolate, prison-like planet. Part of him was comforted by that fact, knowing that in the grand scheme of things he would be nothing but a passing memory—no one out there to judge him, hurt him, or even see him. Yet he also hated the loneliness of it all. Looking out and seeing no life but himself, it only served to remind him what he was. 

Vash the Stampede:

“Shit!”

He paused, feet sinking into the dry sand below. A semi-cool wind hit the back of his neck. “Hello?” his voice echoed out into the world around—hello. . . hello. . . . . hello. Nothing responded and he adjusted the strap over his shoulder. He must really be losing it now. He had suffered from heat stroke before, had experienced delusions, and been near deaths’ door due to the pounding suns above, so, unfortunately, he knew what might be happening.

He stood still for a moment, longer. . . nothing. Okay, perhaps this was a one time delusion and he’ll be fine.

“How the hell am I going to get out of this alive?!”

He whirled around, looking for any sign of life—the person of whom the disembodied voice belonged to. After a moment he confirmed his suspicions. There was no one around. He groaned and covered his face, thinking to himself: “the heat must be getting to me. . .”

“What?”

He blinked, “What?”

“Who are you?”

“Who are you?” he yelled out into the vastness of the desert. No one responded. “What the hell?”

“Great! I’m getting shot at and I’m hallucinating!”

“What is happening right now?!”

“You tell me! You’re the voice in my head!”

“No, you’re the one in my head!”

The first time you two met—and by that, I mean: the first time you two heard each other—was a mess. You were busy running for your life, and he was wandering through the emptiness of a sandy sea. Both of you, due to different reasons, thought you were going insane. You thought the adrenaline of the situation finally made you snap, and that this run-in with danger took the last bit of your sanity. Vash, on the other hand, swore the heat was out to kill him again and he ignored you for the most part—no use in talking to a delusion. It was only after you both reached safety and had a night's rest, that you both came to realize this was something more than hallucinations.

“Uh. . . so. . . are you real?” Vash thought to himself as he washed his face in the sink, the morning sun starting to make the hotel room feel like an oven.

“Of course I am! . . . are you?”

From then on you two talked a lot, and bonded immensely considering the other’s deepest, darkest and most intimate parts are on display. 

Vash tried desperately to keep the fact that he’s a plant and an outlaw a secret, but simply thinking about how he wanted to not think about it, made him think about it. And, therefore, you heard it all within the first five minutes of knowing him.

“You’re Vash the Stampede! The humanoid typhoon?!”

“Uh. . . no?” He thought about how stupid of a lie that is.

“I can hear your thoughts, Vash! You can’t lie!”

“Aw man I forgot!”

Really, Vash was terrified at first. Having someone able to hear his thoughts? It meant his act, his silly persona, was useless. He was laid bare in front of a person he didn’t know, had never seen, and wasn’t even sure if they were 100% real. No matter what lie he constructed, the truth would be sitting somewhere in his thoughts; easy to access, and even easier to talk about considering there was no way to ignore each other.

“Vash?”

He didn’t want to talk today. A mother had been killed, he had been shot in the shoulder, and ran out of town faster than he had ever known was possible. Sitting by himself in a crude rock formation, miles from any town with the moons shining down on him with pity. He wanted to be alone—to wallow, and think, and cry, and grieve for what was lost and what could never be.

“Vash, I know you're throwing a pity party right now.”

He wiped some tears from his eyes, watching the stars. 

“Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash, Vash—come on! I know you're hurting, but it wasn’t your fault. Nothing is. The whole space ship thing? Not your fault. Your brother? He’s his own person, you can’t control his actions—his decisions aren’t on you. The deaths? Inevitable, Vash. Everyone dies someday.”

“But they died because I was there!” He hated showing this side—the pain, the anger, the grief. He didn’t deserve to feel this way. His life, the wandering and suffering, was his punishment for failing to save the people he loved. He didn’t deserve comfort.

“When I finally meet you, I’m going to slap you upside the head before giving you the biggest hug you’ve ever felt.”

He blinked. “Eh?”.

After the rocky start, the weird emotional trauma bonding, and the insecurities—Vash fell hard. Having someone who could peer into his very soul? It, despite feeling so terrifying at first, made him feel so understood and. . . safe. This person has seen the very worst of him, the bottom of the barrel, and yet they chose to keep on talking to him. And, of course, normally Vash would take those emotions to the grave. He doesn’t deserve love. Whoever loves him, whoever he loves, will end up dead. But those thoughts, quite literally, are destroyed the moment they are given tangible sound. 

“I love you too, so I need you to stop thinking that I shouldn’t. Even if you keep running away—” despite the fact that he so desperately wants to meet you he’s terrified you’ll get hurt, and runs away the moment you're in a hundred mile vicinity—“I’ll still love you. And one day I’ll find you Vash. I promise that.”

He sobbed for about an hour straight after that.

He really does want to meet you, it’s the truth, but he needs to confront his fears before he can enjoy your love without guilt. 

Wolfwood:

Wolfwood couldn’t fall asleep. The lull of the bus hadn’t hit him yet, the rocking and groaning metal not a lullaby but a shrieking reminder of how far away from civilization he is. Usually he’d be passed out by now, cigarette limply hanging between his lips, but he had opted to twiddle with it between his fingers. The smoke curled around his palm, lazily rising up into the musty air of the bus. No matter how long he closed his eyes for, how many sheep he counted, or how he positioned himself, he couldn’t reach the comforting arms of sleep. Eventually he gave up, annoyed that everyone else on the bus—excluding the driver himself, thank god—had managed to peacefully drift away into their dreams.

“I’m tired. . .”

He blinked and chuckled quietly, “you and me sister.” He turned away from the window, taking a small drag of his cigarette as he turned to see who had spoken. A lady across the aisle looked at him, tilting her head. He gave a small wave and she turned away quickly. 

“Rude,” he thought for a moment before sighing. Maybe he should try to go to sleep again.

“Hello?”

He blinked and looked around. Surely someone must be sleep-talking. Right? “Wish I could be sleeping,” he looked around once more, eyes lingering on the lady across the aisle who was now starting to doze off. “This sucks.”

“Okay, I’m hallucinating now. God damn it. I knew that I shouldn’t have eaten that sandwich.”

He turned around, looking behind him, and then back to the front where the bus driver was humming a song to himself. “What. . .?” Pure confusion was all he felt. Earlier he had spent several hours in the sun, but the heat couldn’t have gotten to him this bad. . . right? Right?

“Oh God, please make this food poisoning death quick. I’m not into pain.”

Sleep deprivation must really be getting to him. This is going to be a long ride.

Chaos. Absolute chaos. 

Part of Wolfwood thought for a moment he might be getting possessed—he tossed that idea aside quickly but he did consider it for a moment before shaking his head. The other option, he thought, would have to be that the stress of trying to find the Humanoid Typhoon finally caught up to him, and he’s in the middle of a psychotic break. But he remembered hearing that you can’t be aware that you’re in psychosis so. . . where does that leave him?

“Has God really forsaken me this time?” he grumbled, stumbling off the bus and waiting for someone to toss the Punisher down to him.

“I hope not!” came the voice again, “I already have bad luck. If god hates me then I’m really a goner.”

Both of you came to the conclusion fairly quickly that there was no demon or god involved, nor were either of you dying or having a breakdown. Wolfwood, unlike Vash, accepted the situation a lot faster. He was confused and apprehensive at first, after all, no one likes showcases their true, intimate selfs—but he got over it fairly quickly. If this was what fate had given him, he would accept it. After all, it didn’t seem to be too horrible. What’s the matter with appreciating the good things in life?

When he gets bored he’d just stare off into space and annoy you—doesn’t matter what you're doing, or what he’s supposed to be doing. He’ll call your name over and over and over, or start preaching until you tell him to shut up. Sometimes, though, he will start talking about the dirtiest, strangest things you’ve ever heard of until your interest is piqued or until he can hear a reaction from you. Either way, no matter what method he chooses, you’ll eventually be talking to him.

“Here’s another quote, ‘Give your burdens to the lord. And he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall. Psalm 55:22’. You know, personally, I’ve always thought that bible verse—”

“Please shut up. I will literally kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try, Doll.”

His favorite pastime is annoying you, making you flustered, or straight up saying the most out of pocket shit you can ever imagine. And, the funny thing is, you always know what he’s trying to do yet he still manages to get a reaction. It doesn’t matter if he spends several minutes brainstorming before saying what he wants, and it doesn’t matter if you try and prepare yourself, he is a master at being a cocky, loveable bastard.

He does hate when you manage to get him to talk deeper about himself, when you bring in the comfort and philosophical talk. Deep down he knows this life isn’t something he wants to partake in, he doesn’t want to go down the path that has been chosen for him, but what other option does he have? 

“You don’t have to kill.”

“How am I supposed to survive if I don’t? This world is built on blood, and one person trying to make it better isn’t going to do shit.”

“Well, I actually think it’s two people trying to make it better. Can’t say I’ve ever killed anyone.”

He was slightly salty when he got that response. 

He didn’t fall first here, but he most certainly fell harder. His heart is a little petrified, and he often lets people in, but only deep enough to where they feel accepted yet can’t glance at anything too important. It’s like if he invited you over to his home, showed you the kitchen and living room, but kept every other door locked and closed. Yet you had the key and essentially broke every lock in one go. He still doesn’t know if he hates or loves it.

He also desperately wants to meet you but, like Vash, he’s terrified you’d get hurt. But his love and desire outweigh his nervousness and, besides, he’ll protect you with everything he has. If he must die for you, so be it. So, the moment he is sure of himself he asks where you are. And, of course, you knew this was coming, and he knew you knew, and you knew he knew you knew. Make sense?

“Do you want to meet in person?” he thought about how much he wanted to see them, feel them, hear them with his ears not with. . . his mind? He wasn’t really sure how this whole thing worked.

“Of course! How could I deny you when you’re practically begging?!”

“Begging? You haven’t seen me beg yet. . . and now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you beg either. That must be a pretty sight, huh?”

Bastard. He’s a bastard.

Million Knives:

Knives were pissed. No matter how loud he played the piano, or how many plants he surrounded himself with, he could not get that annoying little song out of his head. A solemn, lonesome hum that echoed through his mind like nothing he had ever heard—and it infuriated him beyond anything he had ever known. At first he had assumed it was the sound of the pipes, the mechanical building breathing with man-made life, but once he found himself in the desert, alone, he knew that wasn’t the case. It crossed his mind for a moment, a moment, that he might be having some mental issues but he quickly tossed that idea out the window. He could never have any problems like that, never. 

He brushed his fingers along the piano keys, thinking of problems past and future, thinking of what is to come and how he should deal with it all. His own thoughts, he noticed, almost drowned out the humming; that was, until, a voice blew through his troubled mind. 

“Woah, you’re a plant?”

He whirled around, ready to mame and kill whoever had managed to infiltrate his base. . . but no one was there. “Come on out now!” he seethed, “and I’ll make your death painless.”

No response but the clacking of gears and the hiss of steam.

“Audacious human,” he spit out in his mind, already thinking of different ways to kill whoever dared to address him. He began to stalk the room, eyes snapping from one corner to the next. “They can’t hide long. I’ll find them.”

“Why are you so violent? Geez. . . well, I mean I guess it makes sense but don’t you get tired of being angry all the time?” The voice trailed off and began humming that infuriating tune. A vague thought that wasn’t his came to the forefront of his mind, wondering if it was worth eating the stale bread or if he should—wait no, not him because this isn’t his thoughts—they should wait until they get paid tomorrow to eat.

He ignored the mundane thoughts and confronted the voice in his head, “you’re the one who’s been singing that idiotic song?!”

“Wow, you’re rude too. Who would’ve guessed?”

The conversation devolved very quickly after that.

To be honest, you’d be found very, very quickly. Unlike Vash, Knives won’t avoid you; and unlike Wolfwood, he won’t wait until the time is right—he’ll rush off into the desert and hunt you down in less than a week. Finding a stranger is surprisingly easy when you have infinite access to their thoughts. At first he was angry and only wanted to find you so he could cut your head off, but soon—despite his hatred for admitting this—he found you interesting.

“I’m coming to kill you, and you’re not worried at all?”

“I’ll die someday, and besides, I think I’m starting to charm you.”

“I will rip you apart.”

“Sounds sexy.”

You infuriate him on so many levels he doesn’t even know where to start. 

Actually, he does know where to start. You peer into his mind and learn everything about him and oh my god that pisses him off because now a human—a mere human!—knows everything about him: his trauma, his fears, his past, his brother. And he has now way to stop you from learning about him. Out of pure spite, though, he tries his best to learn nothing about you. . . but that plan fails quickly.

“I’m going to kill myself!” you cry out in your mind, rage edging at the tone of your words.

“Please don’t, it’ll take the joy out of me torturing you.” 

“I’m already being tortured! My boss sucks! Ugh! I’m going to kill him!”

He has a tiny, second-long urge to say he’ll kill the man for you before he literally gags with disgust. He had never been so glad someone was distracted because if you had focused on his intentions in that moment you would have teased him until he showed up on your doorstep and killed you. 

Over the course of the couple days he spent tracking you, he unwillingly came to be invested in your life and found a small amount of joy when he debated with you. 

“Humanity sucks, yes, but we can be good!”

“It doesn’t matter if you can or can’t. What matters is what you’ve done, and what you’re doing. Your potential means nothing when compared to the damage you’ve done.”

“. . . damn it why are you smart. Also, I didn’t do anything! I was just born!”

“That’s a sin in itself.”

“Okay, well, gotta call you out on that one. Being born is not a sin, also, what are you? A preacher? Jesus Christ!”

“Don’t use his name in vain.”

“What?”

After he gets over his initial repulsion and hatred he finds the look into human life interesting. You’re pitiful, weak, and disgusting yet you still push on. Why? Why? Why?

“Why not?’

“It’s useless.”

“So?”

“So. . .?”

“I got you, the great Knives, tongue tied? Wow, I can die happily now.”

Overall, it takes a while for him to fall for you. At first it’s purely rage, and then it’s curiosity, and then. . . maybe he’d call it interest. He wouldn’t fall first and he wouldn't fall that hard, but he’d still appreciate you in some capacity. 

[wholoveseggs]

The sled bet

{Masterlist}

~Five days of Fluffmas~

You decide to go sledding with Klaus and Kol and things get out of control very quickly.

1k words - No warnings, no smut! just pure fluff.

Your fingers were numb, your cheeks red, sweating heavily underneath your winter jacket. You gripped the ropes of your sled, your heart beating in your chest as you looked down the alarmingly steep hill. Everything seemed frozen in time, only the fogginess of your own breath appeared to be moving in the light of the hazy winter sun. The adrenaline and nerves within your system threatened to poison you.

"Don't worry, if you crack your skull open, I'll heal you," Klaus teased, a stupid shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

You flipped him off, pressing your heels into the snow. This was either going to go horribly, or wonderfully... or not at all. A sled race had seemed like a really, really good idea a few minutes ago, but now... you weren't so sure.

"Who's up for a little wager?" Kol asked, sliding his feet on the ground and rocking his sled from side to side so he could shuffle down a few inches of the slope.

"What do you have in mind?" Klaus asked, an amused expression on his face, mirroring his younger brother's actions.

"Whoever gets to the bottom first gets to take y/n out on a date," the youngest Mikaelson declared.

You scoffed, looking between the two of them. "And what if I win? Do I take myself out?"

"Then I won't tell Elijah about all the naughty dreams you've been having about him," Kol replied teasingly, an impish smirk on his face.

You looked away quickly, not letting him see the red rising to your cheeks as you muttered, "I don't have naughty dreams about him."

But Kol wasn't lying; you had, multiple times.

"Sure," Klaus teased, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, fuck off, both of you!" You cried, throwing a handful of snow at the hybrid. "This is so unfair; both of you have the advantage of being immortal, and now there is blackmail involved," you pointed out.

Kol smirked, shrugging his shoulders. "All is fair in love and war, my dear."

You rolled your eyes. "If I don't die today, I'm going to kill both of you," you grumbled.

"Ready..." Klaus started, gripping the rope of the sled.

"Set..." Kol continued, a smug expression on his face.

"Go!" Klaus cried, kicking off with his feet and shooting down the hill at an alarming speed.

"Son of a bitch," you cried, pushing yourself down the slope, the wind rushing against your face and stinging your skin. You could see the back of Klaus's sled in front of you, and Kol was coming up on your other side.

You pushed yourself, trying to pick up as much speed as you could, and suddenly, you felt yourself lifting into the air. "Ahh!" You screamed as your sled launched off a ramp.

The wind rushed around you, gleeful laughter falling from your lips as you flew through the air. That was before you landed, crashing onto the hard-packed snow, which had turned into ice after days of below-freezing temperatures. You went skidding, the sled flipping over, and you were launched onto the ground.

The wind was knocked out of you, and the world went spinning as you tumbled down the remainder of the slope.

"Y/n!"

You groaned, opening your eyes, the sky and the trees spinning above you, before everything came to a stop, and the world righted itself.

"Are you okay?"

You let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit delirious.

"That was awesome," you giggled.

"Yeah, the tumble at the end was a nice touch," Kol chuckled.

"I won," you said, a dazed smile on your face.

"No, I won," Klaus said, shaking his head.

You groaned, closing your eyes and holding a hand to your forehead. "I think I'm bleeding," you sighed.

"You are absolutely bleeding," Klaus said softly, kneeling down and taking a look at the cut on your forehead.

"I'll get her back to the house; you get the sleds," Klaus told his younger brother, scooping you up.

"Please don't tell Elijah about my dreams," you whined, feeling the effects of the pain finally setting in.

"But you lost, darling," Kol chuckled, picking up the discarded sleds and following behind you and his older brother.

"So did you!" You shot back.

Klaus chuckled. "You should know better than to make a bet with Kol; he always wins."

"What are you going to do on your date, Klaus?" Kol teased, a smug grin on his face.

"Shut up," you groaned.

"It's okay, love," Klaus whispered. "We'll call it a draw."

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Thanks," you replied, grateful that Klaus was going to spare you the humiliation.

"What's going on?" Elijah asked, rushing outside to greet the three of you, seeing you bleeding in Klaus’ arms.

"It's okay, she'll live," Klaus said.

"I hit my head," you explained, feeling slightly delirious.

"What were you doing?" Elijah asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Sled racing," you said, laughing a little, as the image came back to you.

Elijah sighed, taking you from Klaus's arms. "You're lucky she didn't break her neck," he scolded, looking down at you.

"I won," you grinned, a smug expression on your face.

"What'd you win?" Elijah asked, raising his eyebrows as he carried you inside.

"It's a secret," you smiled, your cheeks flushing a little.

Elijah looked back at his brothers, giving them a questioning look before taking you inside.

"You shouldn't compete with those two; it never ends well," Elijah stated, sitting you on the bathroom counter.

You nodded. "Yeah," you sighed. "It was a bit of a blackmail situation," you shrugged, biting the inside of your cheek.

Elijah looked back at you, grabbing a first aid kit and setting it down next to you. "What was the blackmail about?" He asked.

You looked down, chewing your lip. "Uh... nothing," you said. "I mean, it wasn't anything bad; they were just teasing me," you muttered, looking back up at him.

"They were teasing you," Elijah repeated, an eyebrow raised.

You nodded, giving him a soft smile.

"And what did they tease you about?" He asked, pulling out some gauze.

You groaned, shaking your head. "It's nothing," you replied.

"You don't want to tell me," Elijah said, pressing a cloth to your forehead.

You shook your head. "Not particularly," you said, your cheeks red.

Elijah let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he put some disinfectant on the cloth and pressed it to your forehead.

You winced, biting down on your cheek and squeezing your eyes shut.

"Sorry," Elijah apologized, looking down at you, a tender look in his eyes.

You looked back at him, a smile on your face. "It's okay, this is way better than having to go on a date with Klaus," you joked.

Elijah raised his eyebrows, tilting his head. "I thought you had a soft spot for him," he said, a playful look in his eyes.

"Not him, no," you said, your cheeks heating up.

Elijah gave you a smile, one that made your heart beat a little faster, and your cheeks flush a little redder.

"So if not him, then who?" He asked, putting a bandaid on your forehead.

"Well, um..."

"Hey, are you guys done?" Kol asked, sticking his head into the bathroom.

Elijah sighed, closing the first aid kit and stepping away. "Yeah, she's fine," he said, leaving the bathroom.

You frowned, your heart dropping a little as you hopped off the counter.

"Oh, and y/n," Elijah started, poking his head back into the bathroom.

You looked up, an expectant look in your eyes.

"I dream about you sometimes too," he said, giving you a knowing smile.

Kol chuckled, looking back at you with a shit-eating grin.

Your jaw dropped open, but he had already walked away.

"Kol, you're a fucking ass,"

[mywifealhaitham]

HAIII

can you do kissing or general dating headcannons for Harold and Noah separately?

Tysm for your time :)

◟✶◝ harold & noah dating + kissing headcanons (separate)

◟a/n◝ hooray my first total drama request... sorry that harolds seems shorter than noahs I didn't really know what to write for him... I still hope u enjoy!!

• Harold is so sweet as a boyfriend, a bit cringe to the point you wanna pick him up and throw him into a lake, buy very sweet nonetheless...

• he tries his best to impress you with his awesome skills which include either rapping or some type of martial arts... but you can clearly see how much effort he puts into his hobbies and how confident he looks while doing it so you half-fake swoon for him when he sees you he'll have the biggest smile on his nerdy face

• as for your first kiss with him it was awkward to say the least. you both were hanging out probably either watching some kind of show or playing video games when you two got gradually closer to eachother until both of you were reallyyy close. you don't notice until after awhile and that's when it gets awkward. Harold notices it too and of course says something a bit corny like "I can stare into your eyes all day" or something. after he says that you giggle and proceed to grab his cheeks and kiss him all over his face turning him red and flustered in the process

• honestly lives for that type of attention I mean pretty much everyone else he's met in his life have been jerks to him so let him bathe in your love for a bit

• like Harold, Noah is also a sweet boyfriend just alot less cringe and a bit more mean... his love language is practically just teasing you and being sarcastic alot. of course he never fully means his mean and snarky remarks, don't worry its all out of love!

• though we know that he can get down bad for someone and that probably happened when he first started liking you. if you both were in total drama he'd probably help you with challenges or fall behind to stay with you whether you two are on the same team or not.

• his kisses are probably a bit more frequent than Harold's but still very few since he prefers practically anything else then face sucking. when you two had your first kiss it was during a little "argument", which was basically just back and forth teasing, and also like Harold's was awkward for a bit. it started off with you two throwing around insults and slowly moving closer until Noah gets the most genius idea he's had in a while. he spits out a "oohhh you wanna kiss me so bad" and still full of adrenaline from the remarks he's previously made you quickly respond with a "yeah. so what?". let's just say that shut the both of you up really fast.

• after a few moments of silence you whisper a quiet "... wanna do it" in which he responds with a awkward nod which he might regret later. when you too actually kiss its stiff but still good and could probably satisfy him for about a year. (afterwards you two kinda ran off out of embarrassment and he immediately got home and started giggling and screaming into his pillow)

• overall still a sweet boyfriend but beware he will get on ur nerves, it's apart of the Noah package.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Black Light 8

Warnings: namecalling, violence, other dark elements. Proceed with caution.

Note: thank you for waiting! Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Jazzercise in the park sounded like a great idea when you signed-up. You didn't put much thought to the demographic until you showed up. Amid the grannies dressed in their most neon oranges and hottest of pinks, you stick out like a sore thumb. Still, you don't mind the excuse for some fresh air and to make some friends.

A sheen of sweat breaks out on your forehead and you feel the fitness flowing through you. You look over at Gladys as she nearly puts you to shame with her spry lunges. You sigh and look to your other side, wishing Hottie was there. Too bad she has work.

You follow the instructor, a woman in her late fifties, Sonya. She hops and bops to the vibes of Wham as she hollers at you to get moving. You find yourself bouncing all over the place, the pedestrians along the path and the sitters on the benches watching at all angles. You might look ridiculous but it feels great.

You jump a bit too far back and crash into another body. You expect Meredith and her tight spirals flowing over a sweatband, but instead find yourself on the path, nearly stampeded by the large body heaving and sweating. You get your balance and untangle yourself from the stranger. Not a stranger at all.

August's curls are slightly dampened with his sweat, his skin glistening, as he wears a sleeveless black muscles shirt and even drabber shorts. A little colour wouldn't hurt.

"You," he snarls as he steps back.

"You!" You cheep brightly, "are you here for Jazzercise too?"

"What? I'm running--- Typical. I just can't seem to shake you. Like a bad cold."

"Hm, is there a such thing as a good cold?" You tap your lip, "maybe if it helps you build immunity--"

"Enough," he checks his watch and sighs, looking down the winding paved path, "I don't have time for this."

"I don't either," you put on a scowl, "you know, I'm out here tryna get in shape and you're running into people--"

"You jumped in my way," he accuses.

"My bad," you put your hands up and step off the pavement, "as you were."

You spin and dismiss him. You come join Gladys as she runs in place and you focus on Meredith's barking demands. Whew, this is awesome but you're gonna be in bed for at least a day recovering.

🧸

You walk home alone, enjoying the sunshine and the song birds flying around the statues. You follow the trail to the gates and onto the street. It's not very far from home, a couple blocks if that. You feel the adrenaline fading and the nip of fatigue that underlies it. You can't wait to chill, and maybe take a shower.

You pull at your shirt, trying to air out your sweaty torso. As you turn onto the next avenue, you hear a step out of rhythm. You look over your shoulder but only find a Ford Fiesta driving down the road. You shrug and carry on.

As you come to your house, you see the drive way is empty. It's not surprising. Your mom and dad are social people, more so since you aged into college. Hottie says it's a midlife crisis, but you expect they just feel free now that you're and adult. Well, you do your best.

You hop up the steps and take out your keys. You leave it unlocked as you stop to take off your shoes. The only thing on your mind is a tall refreshing glass of water. You don't think orange pop is a great post-work out refresher, as bubbly as it is.

You go into the kitchen and fill a glass. You head out to the deck, leaving the sliding door open as you sit in the shade. You drain almost half the glass before setting it aside on the patio table. You lean forward and undo your fanny pack, putting it next to the water.

You lean back and close your eyes. You really should get washed up. You're a little smelly. Oh, maybe Hottie's done. You can't remember when she said she worked until.

You drag yourself to your feet and finish the water. You leave the empty glass in the kitchen and stop to look at the crooked whiteboard on the fridge. You fix it and turn your attention to your phone.

Your mom texted you during the class. Her and your dad drove up to your aunt's for their big summer blowout. The same one they seem to have every week or so.

You go upstairs and to your room. You undress a piece at a time. The body suit wasn't a great choice as you peel it away from your skin and the leggings catch around your ankle. Ew, you feel nasty.

You wrap yourself in a fresh towel and walk down the hall to the bathroom as you message Hottie to check in. It's a perfect night for a sleepover. Your dad always drinks too much when he's around your uncle.

You put your phone on the counter and swing the door behind you, not caring that it doesn't clasp. You put the towel over the bar and slide back the frosted door. You bend to crank on the faucet letting the water heat before stepping under it.

You bask in the steam and wash away the residue of your workout. You take your time, a rare chance to do so. You step out and find the whole room foggy. Jeez, like a sauna or whatever.

You grab your towel and pat yourself dry, swathing yourself in the cotton before letting the steam out into the hall. You hum that George Michael diddy as you come down to your room and hit the high note just as you find an unexpected figure on the foot of your bed. It's not your teddy bear.

Your heart drops and you barely keep the towel from doing the same.

"August?" You gape in confusion, has the steam made you delirious?

He smirks, the first time you've seen anything but fury in his features. You gulp loudly and clutch the knot of the towel. You don't like that little light in his eyes, like a wolf about to feast.

[livingdeadmlm]

saw MK on your list i am clicking my heels and bursting into song. a kung lao fic would be awesome. i feel like no one gives him the attention he deserves

I LOVE KUNG LAO hes so silly I'm a little rusty with MK characters but I'm using what i remember from the games since i played it as a kid

Ill do some SFW and NSFW hcs of dating kung lao a mix of modern day hcs and in game hcs

SFW

What a cutie am I right? he knows it and you know it so he uses that to his advantage.

He likes to say some weird shit and when you ask about it he just looks at you confused

"Did you let in the grass light morning?"

What did you say?"

"??? Nothing babe what are you talking about?"

dinner dates ooooo

Going out to eat and cooking together he considers a good date

In the modern age, he definitely is a gym goer and loves to go to Planet Fitness to set off the lunk alarm. You don't have to work out yourself but if you go with him he tries to show off more than usual hoping that you'd throw some praise his way.

Either has the latest phone or the oldest one known to man no in between

in-game you are his assisted fighter and have a duo fatalities. kinda like In Eyes of Heaven

matching accessories can be bought for the two of you.

calls you baby girl even if you're a guy.

thinks about you all the time at work and how he can't wait to get home and eat and lay down with you

he flirts with you in public places like he's a stranger and you are the lead in a romcom

people in the shop staring as it seems like a romance blossoming before them but it's less interesting when they see once again it is Kung lao flirting with the same man as many times before

NSFW

He believes in fairness so you best believe that both of you leave satisfied no matter what.

Probably not much experience to be had out on the farms but man does he get the hang of everything quick

Head game goes crazy, He is scarily good at it and loves doing it as well

He is not into hitting or anything, he doesn't like the idea of actually hurting each other.

Tug his hair though that's his one exception

He understands taking things slow and will most of the time but at the start of the relationship he gets pretty excited fast and is really hansy grabbing at your hips, legs, and ass like you'll vanish once he lets go

occasionally he still gets that way but has some more self-control

kinda likes getting frisky in risky places and alleyways and when there are people up and walking around in a shared place

his adrenaline spikes but never goes all the way, he insists that that's too far.

if there is distance he sends nudes for sure

with shitty camera quality, he means well and sends them seriously but its hard to keep the mood up when all you have is an 8-bit photo to work with

When you've been on top he has placed his hat on your head, strokes his pride to see it on you while you're enjoying yourself

Probability a Power bottom

[undermine-the-instinct]

Title: Second Male Lead, Enter!

Cyno x Bard!Reader x Kaveh

Bard!reader masterlist • Continuation of this Wc: 5.7K. Warnings: None (unedited)

Tags(?): Reader was born in Monstadt, and was a part of the Knights of Favonius, for future reference. Gender neutral reader.

The lyrics used are from a song called Van Horn by Saint Motel

Thank the Archons, you were born in Monstadt. Monstadt has winding paths and steep hills, wide valleys that stretch as far as the eye can see, so you're used to walking a great distance without losing your breath. When you had trained as a Knight Of Favonius you would often run laps around your beloved home till your legs wobbled like jello, and then force yourself to run the trek back.

All that training paid off, because you are hauling ass, and the General Mahamatra is right behind yours.

Oh fuck he's fast.

Okay okay, you got a little ahead of yourself today. But you get tired of only playing your music quietly in whatever little room you're renting, or for whoever decides to hide you for the night (you're pretty sure he knows you change places often).

So you started playing in some courtyard. And…. Maybe your song of choice was a bit too on the nose? You saw him striding along angrily and he almost looked like he was pouting. So you opened your stupid mouth and sang the first thing that came to mind:

Well tell me do you hate me, or do you wanna date me?

It's kinda hard to tell cause your eyes are looking crazy

So why you come on over, anything but sober

Looking like it's time tonight for fight or flight in Van Horn.

You had chosen Flight. He had shot out of the crowd like a bat from hell and you hightailed it out of there.

That's where you're at currently.

Stick to crowds, stick to crowds. Drifting tight corners is your specialty damn it, use it!!

You drift around the corners and through the courtyards, and your grin is shaking from both adrenaline and fear. You think for a moment that you should try to use your vision, but Pyro wouldn't bode well with all this greenery. You don't want to be charged with arson also.

You've been caught and sent to precincts and holding cells for days at a time, you don't want to stay any longer than you have to.

People catch the spectacle, and children cheer while their parents hush them with hidden smiles. You hop over stalls and people actually move some of their carts when they see you rushing forwards, subtly going back to their work (and blocking the General, oh Archons this place is awesome.)

A full bearded man at a food stall even holds out some sort of bun, wrapped in cloth when you run by, and you grab it, yelling out a 'Thank you!', because you can't stop. You don't want to accidentally bite your tongue off trying to eat this thing either so you put it in your satchel.

There isn't any place this man wouldn't chase you. But if you can find a place to hide, you can lose him, then wait it out till he has to attend to his other duties. You've done this song and dance before. Pun intended.

You don't mean to bump into a man while dashing into an alleyway though.

Your face goes 'smoosh' into the open plane of his chest, (his skin is really soft), and he yells in shock while you fall. Kinda a second too late he reaches out to catch you and you both tumble to the ground. At least your head doesn't hit the ground.

"What the…? Archons, are you alright?!" He reaches out a hand to help you rise. His fingers are calloused, but pretty.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Sorry for bumping into you."

"No need, it was my fault for being in the way." While he talks you look around you frantically, knowing you're losing precious time and ground. He notices your anxiety and tilts his head a little down to match your height.

"Are you alright? You're looking a little nervous there?"

"Yeah, sorry, kinda freaking out. I'm getting chased by the General Mahamatra."

"The what now?" His face blanks, and he is blocking your way.

"Might have heard of me, the bard from Monstadt, the one making a huge ruckus in Sumeru? Yeah, that's me, can you please move- Oh shizz—"

You hear the commotion behind you and you know you only have a few moments before he gets to you. The man's ruby eyes light up, and can he move already–

He grabs your hand and pulls you into the alleyway. You think to pull your hand away, but he's fast though, and he's going in the direction that you were heading anyways, which is away, so you let him pull you along.

"I have heard of you!" He calls back. "I've been wanting to meet you!" He's a pretty shade of blonde, pretty in general. He looks expensive too, with the tailored silk he wears and the intricate earrings.

"I'm Kaveh. You are?"

"Wondering where you're taking me!" What happened to not allowing yourself to be led to a second location? Technically this was the first but whatever–

"Don't worry. It's a place that I'm sure he can't get to you, not without clearance at least."

You two runalong, and you don't hear any footsteps behind you, which doesn't really soothe your nerves. He can be quiet when he needs to. But you two run, and eventually he leads you to a building that looks fairly new. He leads you through the back door, and up two flights of stairs to a sort of sitting room, yelling out greetings to the other people who call out his name.

This room has full couches and low tables and giant, fluffy looking pillows to lounge on. There are blueprints on the tables and half a model of a building on another. There are windows lining the wall, but this room is towards the back of the building, so all you see when you look out is a shadowed alleyway leading to the backs of other buildings.

Kaveh sighs when he enters and lets your wrist go.

"Sorry for dragging you all the way here. I might have gotten a bit ahead of myself."

"What is this place?"

"It's an Architects guild. There aren't very many in Sumeru, and even if he knows of this one, he can't get in."

"No?"

"No. The General Mahamatra has clearance to enter any government owned building. This building has been bought and renovated by the guild's hands, so he would need a warrant to enter." He waves you in and gestures for you to sit. You do so, sinking into a seat and grabbing a pillow to hold.

"I wasn't going out of my way to find you, but it's fortunate I have the chance to talk to you now.

"Many people are intrigued by you."

"I'm nothing special. It's all the ruckus that's been left in my wake that's interesting."

"I don't think a person the General Mahamatra has been sent after is nothing special.

"Bard, tell me, what brings you so far from home? I can tell you're not from here."

Hm, well, he did kind of just save you. You can indulge him a little. "I had a wanderlust. Spent a lot of time in Liyue, Inazuma was pretty interesting. I spent most of my time with a felon running from the Shogunate, whom I met on a pirate ship."

"How fascinating. So you're from Monstadt?" He frames it as a question and you nod. He reaches for a pitcher and pours you both a glass of wine. His hand is warm when he gives it to you.

"Honestly, I had hoped I would get to meet you soon, but with the General Mahamatra after you, I thought the chances were slim."

"You really wanted to meet me?" He nods, reclining in his seat.

"And today was my lucky break! The effect you've had on Sumeru as a whole is astounding. It shows the disparity between the ideal Sumeru the Sages try to project and the true reality that is the people's lives." He drains his cup in a few gulps.

"It's lifeless and droll, what they push for. The path of an erudite is honorable and all, but their blatant hatred for the arts, how do they live with themselves? Art is everywhere, art is essential. Art is food for the heart and soul."

"That's what I'm saying!!" You bounce in your seat with shock and excitement. Is it true? Finally, someone you can talk to about this?!

"It's a means for human expression! Even before people learned to read and write we had songs to sing. So many archeological finds are statues and art of past civilizations, we learn about past cultures from the stories they told, ancient paintings in tombs or cave walls." He's nodding eagerly along to what you're saying, earrings swinging.

"Exactly. You can't escape art, you can't escape the divine act of creation! Our jewelry, the way we dress, the way we talk, how we build and decorate our homes, how we work, eat, it's all an artform! A romance unto itself!"

"Yes. When you hold yourself above the arts, you're basically proclaiming yourself above mortal….well, mortality. Joy. Culture. I think it's Ironic how the Sages worship the late Greater Lord Rukkedevahta, when she herself was close friends with the Goddess of Flowers. Whose dance was so graceful she made the pardisarahs bloom."

"A flower the Greater Lord dedicated her friend to. They've worked hard to try and erase her importance from the text books," he grumbles, "as well as the role of the Scarlet King. I can only imagine what they've gotten rid of in all these centuries past." You both sigh at the same time, and grin at each other in amusement. You curl your legs underneath you, a little bashful.

"I haven't seen many people in Sumeru as enthused on this matter as you are."

"Alas, it is both a curse and blessing."

"Is that right?"

"Yes. I am an architect, art is a necessity for my creations, my work depends on creativity. But that also deems me as frivolous, people are less likely to take my word in other matters. My roommate calls me over emotional and tedious. But I'm not the one frittering away my income on horrible art decor. I swear he does it just to spite me."

You laugh. "You two sound close."

"Frenemies, you could say, I swear he lives to aggravate me. He always wants to take my keys, and he likes to frame it as an accident even if we both know he does it on purpose, and then lock me out of the house!!"

"Uh-huh."

"And I'm the one stuck doing all the housework! I've never seen that man so much as wash a dish or pick up a duster. Do you know how exhausting it is to be the only one to do housework around the place?"

You sip from your cup. "Very exhausting."

"Yes. And that attitude of his. You know what he's like? He believes that art exists solely for commercial exchange, that art is a revenue to be exploited and holds no other value. That the day that value has been exploited is the day all its value ceases to exist." At this you gasp.

"Are you serious? No, you're kidding."

He rolls his eyes. "'Can the production of anything exist without commercial exchange?'. The bastard."

"That sounds horrible. Art isn't meant to be exploited or capitalized on. What kind of of mindset is that?"

"The wrong one. People like that drain the joy out of every golden bleeding day." He sighs again with a wave of his hand, like brushing away the current topic.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" His vision, dendro, jingles as he crosses an ankle over his knee.

"What kind of friends have you made while in our great nation?" You laugh a little, watch your reflection distort when you swirl the contents of your glass.

"Friends? I have none. It is known throughout Sumeru that the Sages detest me. They have sent their General after me. Sumeru craves a spectacle but one they can watch, and not be blinded by." You drink, if only to give yourself pause.

"They might make way for me if they see me dashing away from the authorities, like earlier, but they would not house me or aid me if I'm injured. Some establishments have banned me so it's hard to find work to feed or support myself, but I make due with odd late night shift jobs."

"Hm. I heard a rumor that you were good friends with Miss Nilou of the theater."

"Miss Nilou is a lovely person, but even still, she won't put the theater in jeopardy by associating with me. It's the smart thing to do.

"My 'friends' are usually the outcasts of society. The drunks and the dropouts and despondents. Even then. They're not my friends since they're more likely to sell me out or stab me in the back for some mora or attention."

"What if I said I wanted to be your friend? Would I be considered a fool?" He dramatically puts a hand to his chest, a smile on his face.

You look him up and down. "You just helped me escape from the General. I'd call you less than bright."

"I'll have you know that I am considered the Light of the Kshahrewar." He huffs, affronted but not really. He smiles wider when you chuckle.

"It's awfully droll being surrounded by people with no appreciation for anything beautiful or lovely. Technically, you haven't broken any true laws, but the Sages are afraid of the influence you have." He waves a hand.

"I don't care for any of that. You're a peach and I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'm a peach?" You ask, confused yet amused.

"Yes!" He laughs. "You've been nothing but delightful so far. I'd like to get to know you better."

Well, it would be nice to make merry with someone you don't have to fear will rob you in your sleep, or rat you out. He did just help you hide. He's a good conversationalist, and he appreciates art as well as you do.

"You know what? I'm too endeared for my own good. I would like to be your friend Kaveh." You reach out a hand and he takes it, pressing a kiss to the back as if he were a knight.

"Splendid. This deserves a toast!" He refills both your cups and you clink them together. It settles down warm in your belly. Monstadt wine is always better though, slides down your throat like honey and settles in hotter. This is still good though and you tell him as much.

"My roommate is the one who bought this. Apparently he ordered several crates of the stuff, and I figured not to let it go to waste by letting him drink it all and ruin his kidneys."

"Crates?"

"Yes, crates. Around ten of them. He's quite the alcoholic."

"Depends on how fast he drinks it. In Monstadt you'd share that among friends and it would be gone in a mere day."

"Goodness, now two of my friends are alcoholics."

"You seem like one to talk."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

You go on to talk more, about music, architecture, the sages, and the conversation flows smoothly. You find yourself relaxing, it's been weeks since you really had a proper conversation with anyone. Maybe the General counted, but really all you do is throw quips back at him and flee.

Well, you flirt with him a little too, but it's mainly in jest. You want to see that stoicism of his crumble. He can capture you and put you in holding for weeks at a time, but it's still cute to see that little blush he gets when you get too close to him or when your lyrics get risqué.

Then suddenly, you hear a rumble that cuts the conversation off, and look over at Kaveh. He puts his hand over his stomach with a half mortified look.

"Please don't mind me."

"Are you hungry?"

"I'm fine."

"I have a bun if you want."

"I'll be fine. I…gave up my lunch to a couple desert foxes earlier."

"Oh no, were you bombarded?" You ask, laughing. They are cute.

"I couldn't resist, they had me surrounded! Then I bought flowers from a stall two children were running so I'm broke. I'll eat something later." Okay, that's adorable. You take out the wrapped bun from your satchel, and it's still warm.

"Take it."

"It's fine."

"Take it."

"No."

"Why not?"

"It's hard enough for you to find good housing, right? So I'm sure it's hard to find any restaurants willing to let you order or eat in. You eat it."

"It's fine. I'm not hungry." Your stomach betrays you by letting out a growl, long and embarrassing. He gives you a look.

"...Then we'll split it." You do promptly just that, and give him the bigger half despite his complaints.

It's a stuffed pork bun. It's good. You really were hungry.

You have to buy more strings for your lyre and your guitar, just in case. And you had a tear in your cloak, so you'd need a needle and thread. It wasn't too bad, and If it was you could use one of your spare shirts if you needed extra fabric.

There were lots of plaza's and courtyards and markets here, compared to monstadt. The only place that might compete was Liyue, but you weren't there long, and there were lots of seats and benches to sit. Not here. Get where you're going and stop loitering. The ground was flat and smooth though, not high cobbled streets or grasslands, so you don't mind. All this to say you might need to buy another pair of shoes with the extreme amount of walking and running you've been doing.

And probably waterproof cases. And clothes with waterproof pockets and lining. You had to jump into the waters of Port Ormos to escape from Cyno once and your flute was never the same.

Where were you going to get the money for this?

Your musings are interrupted again when you hear a weird sound, and look up to see Kaveh choking.

You stand and refill his wine with the recanter, lifting a eyebrow.

"Something strange cross your mind?"

"Uh, no, nothing like that." He flounders after he drains his cup.

"Just caught off guard. Listen, I'm, uh, I'm not kicking you out, but I think you should hurry."

"Oh? Why?" He's leaning a little back in his seat, outside the window's view. You're helping to block him a little.

"Because the General Mahamatra is looking right into this window." You choke a little on your bun, and sneak a peek out the window.

What the actual fuck.

He just, standing there. Menacingly. You're barely peaking your head out, but you two lock eyes immediately and you flinch back. You dont drop the stare. It's heavy enough that if you did, you fear it would land on your foot and break it.

"You said he can't get to me here?"

"Not unless he has a warrant."

"He's the General, doesn't he like, have an automatic pass?"

"I don't think so…?" Lightning starts crackling along his form and your heart rate elevates, you start making sure you have everything. You down the rest of the wine and stuff the bun into your mouth. You almost choke.

"He'll try staking out or scaling the building if I stay any longer."

"Really? It's that serious?"

"He's done it before." You shiver. He scaled up a building with those lightning hand things of his before and pulled himself through the window to get to you. You thought your judgment day had come for you then, but you had managed to wriggle out an escape, thank goodness. Yeah, you have everything.

You turn to your new friend with a grin, and hope that there's nothing in your teeth.

"Well, Kaveh, friend of mine, thank you for the wine and the convo. Guess I'll see you when I see you?"

"Of course, hopefully soon?"

"We'll see!" He gets up, wiping his hands on his knees.

"Then we leave it to fate. Where are you going to go now?"

"If I can make it out I can lose him in the districts, or head underground and lose him there."

"Sounds like a plan."

"Yep! So, I'm gonna jump out the window now, so don't panic." You learned your lesson the first time you did that, the matron of the bar had screamed and it brought too much attention to your escape. People are so nosy here.

"Keep inside so that he can't completely see your face, okay?"

"You're not serious? We're two stories up and he's right there." You climb onto the ledge and perch there.

"Well I'm not jumping down towards him silly. Bye-bye." You wave your fingers.

"Wait wait, hey!!" You jump out of the window, several windows next to the one the General stood under, without any fanfare.

Another good thing about Monstadt; You're used to falling from heights. Two stories is nothing, so you fall fast, hit the ground hard and roll, ignoring the sting in your ankles and feet. You run.

But, due to the sting and height you fell from, you're not very fast initially and about a dozen alleyways later, (you got farther at least) you feel a rough hand grab onto your shoulder and slam you into a wall. Ouch. Oh well.

You bite back your cry of pain when you catch the gleam in his eyes, almost triumphant, you would say.

"Caught you."

You scoff, and try to ignore the way his fingers dig into your shoulder. "Please. You really think you have me?"

"Where do you see yourself getting out of this? How do you see yourself escaping?"

"A multitude of ways, actually."

He frowns deeper, his mouth a flat pressed line."Tsk. Smart mouth." You sigh, making sure the air blows over his face. Pork bun breath.

"Where did you even come from? I was singing and I saw you. Then you suddenly just shot through the crowd."

"I was following you from when you left the inn. I had a feeling you'd try something. I was right."

Damn. Looks like that place is compromised. You'll have to find another one, secretly and soon. You'll probably sleep outside tonight.

You put your hands to your face like a scandalized maiden.

"You were stalking me? You even know where I'm staying? Oh my, I never dealt with this kind of situation with a fan before…You know I don't like you like that, right?" He rolls his eyes at your display, the way you make your eyes soft and wide.

"Stop it. I'm not your fan."

"If you'd come to one of my performances for real–"

"No. They're unsanctioned."

"But if they were–"

"They won't be. No."

"You didn't deny that you were stalking me though." He doesn't say anything as rebuttal and you grin, leaning back against the wall like you weren't being held there. Looks like you're going back to a precinct for a couple of days. At least you wouldn't have to worry about where you're sleeping tonight. Or tomorrow.

His frown deepens. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Acting like that."

"Acting like what, Cyno? You got me. Do whatever you're gonna do to me." You make your voice lower, smoother, and you know he notices, because he just keeps looking angrier and angrier.

"It's not a joke."

"It's not."

"You're under arrest."

"You're all up in my space, of course I know that." You chuckle. You lean a bit closer and yeah, he's blushing a little.

"You'll be taken to court to be judged by the sages."

….Well. What a shock.

"Wait, what? Why?"

"For all the trouble you've been making."

"To Court? On what grounds?"

"The Sages–"

"My crimes could only be labeled as a Violation, which would result in a fine or community service, or up to fifteen days in jail. Which I've been doing. Why would I get a trial for a Violation?"

"Because your crimes are listed as a Class B Misdemeanor. The Sages have decided to be more involved in court cases and jail sentencing recently. With their interest in you it's understandable they want to be involved in your sentencing."

"Hah!" You laugh. "And I bet you've been busy too, rounding up people to lock behind bars."

"They are people who have broken the law in the most severe senses.They have to be dealt with."

"Let me guess, people who tried selling research or contraband, thieves? People charged with armed or aggravated assault or disorderly conduct? Okay, I can understand them paying for their crimes, but even I have noticed how the Sages always label them as felons and just throw them in jail for longer than their sentences should allow." You sneer.

"And that's if they can get a fair sentence."

"Should we, the system, force these convicts into redemption? No, we can't, that is only something that one has to work for. Self reflection is the same; they must reflect on their own transgressions. They could only do so if they regret their actions."

"They can't reflect if they are worried about survival. If the system basically makes it damn near impossible to redeem themselves they're not going to try."

"Do you know what kinds of people you're defending? Do you think these people want to be redeemed?" He suddenly hisses. He presses in close to your face and you feel your skin prickle.

"What kinds of people do you think I am sent after? You think those kinds of people spend their allotted time reflecting? Do you think they care or regret what they've done? You think they wouldn't do it again in a heartbeat?" You open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.

"Because they would. Because these people don't care about the consequences. About how many people would be harmed or dragged into their mess. I'm not sent after petty thieves and criminals. Wayward researchers are common but not the bulk of my arrests. The students of the Akemdemiya might have spread my name, but don't let it slip your mind that I am the General. I wage war. Not petty battles."

You two stand off for a moment. His normally blank eyes, back-lit by lightning, are alive, red hot, pupils dilated. The corners of his mouth tremble. You wonder what he sees in your face.

You tilt your head. "Then why are you chasing after me?" He gives a barely perceptible flinch, but doesn't back up.

"Because, even if the Sage's judgements are cruel sometimes, it's all for the better good of Sumeru. As long as that is their ideal, I will stand guard by it."

Disappointment is heavy and sour on your tongue. For some reason…you expected better. Maybe it's the Knight in you, Monstadt and the fire of your vision, Freedom and revolution, a song in your breast. But a system that condemns its people unfairly is one you would want to undermine.

One you would want to burn down.

"I asked you a while ago whether you felt if the law was just, or upholding the law was just. You answered me wrong back then." Cyno sneers a little, derisively.

"Well, what would you know?"

"Oh Cyno," you shake your head in pity, however little of it you feel for him. Young, naive boy. "You're such a fucking idiot."

You snake a hand to his nape, and yank him close for a kiss.

He gasps in shock at your movements, but that just lets you deepen the kiss, pulling him closer till his body is pressed against yours. You feel the stutter of his chest, his eye lashes blinking rapidly against your skin, his hand trembling on your shoulder.

But he doesn't pull away.

It's only a moment of shock before you feel his lids close, and he's kissing you back. His lips are a little chapped, but the scrape of them against yours is delicious, and you shiver against him. Just to feel his hands panic before he settles them on the slope of your hips. He's shivering, shoulders jumping.

You pull back and just brush your mouth against his, drawing small circles just below the nape of his hairline.

"What are you doing?" He stutters, you lick the seam of his mouth and smile when he gasps again.

"Do you want me to stop?" Why do you ask? You know your answer. It's in the way his hands grow firmer and he doesn't stop you when you nudge him with your forehead, back into a kiss.

This time it's him who pushes against you. He's clumsy but eager, a little messy; he misses your lips a few times and presses his mouth to a lip, your cheek, your chin, your jaw. You giggle when his lips press to the space underneath your earlobe, and sigh when he travels down. His shoulders tremble under your hands, while you nudge his cheek and guide his lips back to yours.

You tilt your face to deepen the kiss, and draw your leg up, hips aligned. Only now does he let out a punched out gasp, and pushes himself away from you.

His face is flush and his mouth dark and red, shiny with spit. He breathes heavily, and stares at you like you've grown a second head, a nightmare realized. You just smile prettily at him, a little quizzically. It dawns on you quickly though.

"... Cyno, was that your first kiss?" He's acting like it was, face both livid and bashful, and just plain adorable. His face darkens and he takes another step back from you.

"Oh what the…" you both swivel around, to find a young boy in the alleyway with you. Probably on an errand, he looks barely thirteen you'd say, and he stares at you two shell-shocked, a crate in his arms. His wide eyes jump back and forth between the two of you.

"....You didn't see anything, boy." Cyno hisses, and the boy nods amicably.

"You're right, of course I didn't. Now that last sentence I heard though…" Well, that's your cue. You turn, with a quick prayer to Celestia, and dash the hell out of there, a giggle on your lips.

He doesn't chase after you. You go blocks and blocks without any indication otherwise.

That was nice. Really nice. He was gonna kill you. You should really stop messing with that general.

——————

Kaveh has been in an especially good mood lately.

Barely two weeks ago he was bemoaning and whining about completing a project he felt stuck on, now he's drafting blueprints and models, hammering away throughout the night (he's had to wear his soundproof headphones to bed for days now) and furiously scribbling away in his notebook any spare second. He doesn't even rise to his barbs when Al Haitham pokes at him, which is odd.

Alright, that's a lie, he just doesn't get as annoyed.

Luckily he's still willing to overshare to anyone with half an ear that could listen, so it's easy enough to figure out why he's been in such a jolly mood.

"You're friends, with the Bard?"

"Yes! They're fascinating, mind you, I've barely known them for a few weeks but the creativity!! That flows through my head with each interaction is amazing!"

"So you're using a felon as creative inspiration." He scowls like he predicted.

"It's normal for friends to bounce ideas off of each other and inspire each other. If you weren't such a recluse you would know."

"I don't need help with finishing any of my assignments. If you had a little more sense you wouldn't associate yourself with a criminal." He gives his roommate a side eye.

"Knowing how work is going, I assume you'd take more caution with the people you associate with."

"They're not a Felon. A criminal, technically, yes. It's known throughout Sumeru now how much they're hated by the Sages for their performances. They're trying to have the people ostracize them because of that." He's wearing a new hair accessory that he fiddles with, not looking up from his mess on the table.

"And let me guess, they've charmed and endeared the people so, so that is no longer a viable option."

"Yes, exactly. I bailed them out of a precinct four days ago, you should have seen! They were teaching the rest of the inmates some Monstadt tune and it seemed the guards were allowing it, at least until I came in. They started serenading me too as soon as they unlocked their gate." He grins, dopey, and Al Haitham raises an eyebrow at the behavior.

"I've never met someone so unabashedly free spirited, it's so lovely!"

"I've heard that the Sages are growing increasingly frustrated with the fact that The General Mahamatra can't seem to pin them down."

"They know the law," Kaveh shrugs.

"So they're staying low right now to hopefully blow over some steam. They might get an actual sentence if they keep on, so they're looking for some work now. No more performances."

"Hm." Kaveh turnt back to his work and Al Haitham drew away, pondering.

Of course he's heard of you, and with his station he's heard more than just the rumors of the Sages' hatred of you; he's seen and heard it firsthand.

People in the Akademiya are too terrified to even mention your existence for fear of upsetting, not the sages, with their distant judgment and contempt, but the General Mahamatra.

People know when he was sent after you, because those days are the ones where the jackal is more likely to snap at people. The students are more mortified and studious than ever while he storms the halls like a nimbus cloud, dark and crackling.

He's also most likely to shut himself in his office for hours upon hours, and it's only in the late hours, when Al haitham finally decides to head back to his place, is when he sees the young general leave his office. A haunted look hangs in his eyes.

You obviously have some sort of effect, or insane luck, to escape the General so often. Of course he can catch you and throw you in a cell for a few days, it's been done before. But he's hunted and caught greater people for lesser crimes, and you somehow keep getting away with yours.

He just might have to meet up with you soon. Just to see what all the hype is about.

[danyvhell-writes]

Ais headcanons pt 2 ! (Touchstarved)

GN reader - no warnings | Ais, my beloved. My brain won't stop thinking about him, there's so much to say omg ! I need to draw him this is serious :')

+ Not really a headcanon but when I first saw Ais in the trailer I thought he would be a kinda pirate character :') don't make fun of me lmaouiadubgziu !! I really imagined our first encounter with him on the coast of the city/harbor and that his story would be based on pirate tales and marine legends. I'm still sticking to my idea that it would be fucking awesome to have Ais as a captain or something, traveling the seas and oceans with him and his crew. (let me dream) PIRATE AIS AU WHEN ????!!? (Helloooo sailor !!)

• Has really pretty hands for someone who fights so much ! Likes to be presentable in front of you.

• He's a simp in his own ways. Someone making a remark about how good looking you are, he's gonna brag "Damn right they are ! Look at them."

• If you're mixed or have unusual features for your ethnicity, he would try to guess your origins (and he's strangely good at it ?). And if you have a weird/rare mix it's even more fun to see him struggle a bit.

• Likes to share foods ! Please feed him, he loves it. He'll just watch your dish with insistance until you ask him "You want some ?" and lean opening his mouth. He'll gently make you taste his meal in return. You're his little sparrow after all, so of course he's gonna let you peck in his plate.

• If your gaze meets his, he'll wink casually. It's his way to say "Hi babe."

• Completely forgot to ad this in my last hc post but !! If you use ASL, he will learn just so he can talk with you. Teach him everything you know, he's a good student >:) And if you happen to know how to read lips, this man would be thrilled to learn how to do it ! I just know he'd love to spy on people's conversation and gossip with you hehehe

• When you guys go on a walk and see sparrows he's always saying stuff like "Look, your friends' saying hi !" "This one looks just like you, cute." or "Wonder who's the real little sparrow… Sure you're not an impostor hm ?"

• When he doesn't smoke, he smells like a mix of cloves, iodine, humid air & metal (you know what i mean ?)

• Ties up his hair in a little ponytail sometimes and it's the cutest thing ever !!!

• If you're sensitive to the smell of cigarette (I personally despise that shit), he'd be careful not to smoke near you or puff in your direction. Passive smoking is not an option ! When you tell him it's fine, he responds "I don't want to screw up your healthy lil lungs !" ↑ However if you take cigs too, he'll gladly share a smoke with you. Really likes to have a calm talk with you while you guys enjoy your stuff. (+ shotgun kiss grrr)

• If you trip on your feet or something while walking, no need to feel ashamed. He would simply do the same on purpose to reassure you and act like it's something casual. "Can't watch my feet either apparently :)" You can be clumsy around him, do not worry !

• We know he doesn't like easy fights and he's kinda into brats so… give him challenges. Dumb ones, hard ones whatever you want ! He needs adrenaline and what's better than a little dare. "Bet you can't climb that tree in less than twenty seconds !" "Oh yeah ? Don't be presumptuous, I'll show you." and there he goes, perching himself on a big branch.

• Related to that... You're a snarky little shit ? Good. He likes it. Be cocky with him, that's what he needs. Of course he loves your soft side but no bickering nor teasing would be boring. This man needs a challenge.

• Loves going on walks with you and his babies (soulless). He'd show you around, make you visit nice places you've never been to and you get to play with Princess + the rest of the pack ! Sometimes his destinations are a little perilous but it's worth the risk. Two whole hours walking in the mist to watch the sunset ? Okay let's go, handsome !

• You're a trans person ? Great. He is too. Now go makeout like the T4T couple you are. (My Ais is trans and I won't come back on this statement 🏃🏽‍♂️💨)

• Always rests his hand on your hip. Number one resting place, comfortable & perfect shape for it. Sometimes the touch feels almost ghosting against you, you wonder if you're imagining things. Please, do the same for him. His waist is literally snatched with that pretty belt of his, perfect place to put your hands on ! He would really appreciate.

• He's good with makeup. Let him put you some red eyeliner so you guys can match ;) Just imagine him holding your face gently while he's concentrated on making a cool pattern with the liner. "Don't move." "I'm trying sorry !" "Am I that distracting to you ?". He won't mind if you try some on him. Dark lipstick omg, he'll rock that shit !

[givemea-dam-break]

Hi!!!! Your L&C fics are my favorite thing ever, your writing is absolutely incredible, I'm a bit obsessed I think XDD

Apologies if this request is too specific, but I would die for a Lockwood x reader fic where the reader makes up their mind to do something stupidly reckless for a case, something even Mr. Reckless himself can't support, especially not when it's YOU. He begs you not to, you do it anyway, get badly injured, but he's still there to patch you up after all of it.

Have an awesome day!!!!!

a/n: my day is absolutely awesome so far, i hope yours is too!! and thank you so much, i'm so so glad you enjoy my stuff!! i hope you enjoy <3

warnings: language, injury gn reader

You knew the case was going to be a bad one from the get-go, you just didn't know how bad.

Everything had seemed fine when you and the other members of Lockwood and Co met with the clients, a pair of men who owned a nearby butcher's. A Type Two haunting the place, nothing you couldn't handle. George had even found a lot a decent information on the place that could help you guys figure out where the source was. The notion of it being in a butcher's made you uneasy, and you knew very little about the Type Two, though Lockwood was sure you'd all be fine.

But, standing in the shop, facing a ghost you can't see, you know you're fucked.

It's just your luck to be faced with a poltergeist, honestly.

Unlike other Visitors, poltergeists can't inflict ghost touch which, in the long run, is very handy. If ambulances can't get to agents on time to give them an adrenaline injection, then it can lead to loss of limbs or death. It sounds like a positive, right?

Well, staring at the carving knife floating a few feet away, you would much rather be faced with a Wraith or even a Rawbones.

The thing is, poltergeists have no physical form so it's harder to look for a source, hence George and Lucy scrambling around in the backroom, clattering about as they rush to look.

Ahead of you, the knife hovers in midair, its sharp, gleaming point slowly turning as if to decide which person to dart at: you, Lockwood, or Lucy and George. It's like a horrible version of Spin the Bottle.

"So, this lovely Visitor was the old butcher?" you say, keeping your voice light. Poltergeists feed off negative emotions even more than other Type Twos.

Lockwood nods, rapier in hand as he looks around the rest of the room, rooted in place. "That's what George says."

"What reason does it have to be haunting the place?"

"Killed by an angry employee, I think."

You hold back a grumble, forcing down your anger at stupid people from the past. If they'd known how many problems they'd cause in the future, would they still have been such idiots?

Probably.

"Watch your back then," you joke. "You have three employees. Keep us happy, will you?"

"There's only so much tea I can make."

The knife rises in the air slightly and you falter back a step as its sharp end points at you.

"I think I'm the favourite," you mutter, trying to keep your fear in check. It's not often ghosts threaten you at knifepoint. "Lockwood, you go help Lucy and George look for the source. I'll keep its attention."

"No way." He looks at you incredulously. "We're doing this together."

Palms sweating, you say, "Your rapier isn't going to do much against a ghost we can't see, and not all of us can look for the source because then none of us stands a chance."

"I'm not letting you face it on your own," Lockwood insists. "Not a chance. The thing's got a knife, and it can do much worse."

But Lucy shouts something from the backroom, drawing Lockwood's attention. Through the buzz of fear in your ears, you think she says they might've found something.

"Lockwood, go!"

"(name), I'm not just going to leave you to -"

The knife whizzes in the air, lodging itself in the wooden doorframe, awfully close to your shoulder. It's like the Visitor wants Lockwood to stay, but you aren't going to let him. He's the leader of Lockwood and Co, the face of it. The company needs him. But not you. You're expendable.

Your Talent isn't anything special, not like Lucy's, and your research skills are nowhere near the standard of George's. All you're good at is using a rapier and sweet-talking DEPRAC when cases go tits up. Lockwood can easily fill in for you.

"Lockwood," you grit out, trying to keep the frustration at a minimum. "Go."

He's about to argue, but George calls for help - whatever they've found is stuck. He doesn't move.

Before you can think about it, you rush over and shove him in the direction of the backroom, and he stumbles, falling into the door. He barely gets his footing before Lucy's dragged him through.

"(name)!" he shouts, but he doesn't appear. Thank god for Lucy.

"All right," you murmur, turning to look at the knife in the doorframe. "Just you and me, now, Polty."

Slowly, threateningly, the knife dislodges from the frame, shining in the dim lanternlight. From the far wall, a knife rack trembles on its hooks, and more come free. Your heart is in your throat. Maybe you'll end up like a ghost you've defeated before, an old man who'd been jumped and stabbed endlessly.

Hopefully, you'll be an easy ghost to get rid of.

The carving knife comes flying at you, and you barely deflect it with the thin blade of your rapier. Another knife darts across the room, and you duck out of the way, though it nicks your ear. You can feel the little dribble of blood sliding down the skin already.

"Do you guys mind hurrying up a bit?" you call, eyeing the large collection of knives hovering. "Not to rush you or anything, but, you know, I'm not the biggest fan of being threatened by knives."

"Almost there!" Lucy shouts. "George got his arm stuck trying to get the source out. We're trying to get him unstuck."

Swallowing, you say lightly, "Yeah, sounds fun. Maybe speed it up a little."

You can hear a little arguing, likely Lockwood trying to come back out to help but getting told off by Lucy. You almost smile. Almost.

This time, the small knife that launches at you catches your shoulder and you resist crying out in pain. If you do, Lockwood will definitely come running out, and you can't afford that. They need to get the source.

Blood oozes down your arm, staining your jumper. Your grasp on your rapier weakens, and you swap the blade into your other hand, although this hand is considerably worse with it.

"It's rude to stab people," you grumble.

The next knife is deflected clumsily from your face, half from the inability of using your other hand and half from the pain in your shoulder. You'd pull the knife out, but you know it'll make things worse. At least it hasn't hit anything vital.

You can feel the presence of the poltergeist, thick and hanging over the whole room like a blanket. It isn't the most powerful one, not like the ones you've heard Fittes agents dealing with, because, even though its presence is everywhere, its focus is dealt solely on you. If it were stronger, it'd be targeting the others, too.

"Go on then, give me your worst."

Another knife, another dodge. It feels like it goes on forever, on and on and on with the same knives over again. The blood from your shoulder has reached your hand now and, god, how you wish you could throw a salt bomb at this thing. Your fingers itch to hold one.

"Hurry up!"

Mistake. You regret speaking immediately, having let out a little too much frustration, and the poltergeist feeds on it. The knives tremble in the air, every point staring menacingly at you, and the one hanging in your shoulder tears out, bringing with it another gush of blood. You can't help the cry that escapes your lips this time.

"Get the silver net, hurry!" Lucy's voice shouts.

The world moves in slow motion. As the knives fly in your direction, gleaming, one covered in blood, your heart feels like it ceases all functions. This is where you die. You'll never be able to dodge all of them in time.

Then the first blade sinks into your shoulder, just inches below the first puncture, and you shut your eyes.

You'll miss Portland Row and your friends. Maybe you didn't cherish their antics enough - the way George sings in the shower in the mornings, waking you up, or how Lucy will blast music at full volume while hacking away at the dummies in the basement for rapier practice. Most of all, you'll miss Lockwood. His smile, the way his eyes sparkle when he realises you've bought him a new magazine from the shop, the feeling of his fingers brushing yours as he passes you a mug of tea after every case.

There isn't much you regret, but you regret not telling him how you feel about him. About the nights you spend thinking about him, wishing for something more between you both.

Metal slams to the ground. The heavy pressure sitting on your shoulders dissipates, and silence ensues.

Slowly opening your eyes, you startle, seeing a dozen knives scattered on the floor right in front of your feet. Droplets of blood drip from your fingers, forming a little puddle on the floor. You're breathing heavily, much more than you should be, and your body is trembling.

The others stumble into the room, eyeing the blades that have fallen before you. Lockwood is the first to notice the blood soaking the sleeve of your jumper.

He practically leaps over the counter to get to you. "Lucy, George, go get rid of the source and get us a night cab. Quick."

Wordlessly, the two sprint from the shop and into the night.

"You're okay," Lockwood says.

You almost believe him, falling for the assured tone of his voice, but you feel a little woozy. Knees buckling, you drop to the floor, but he catches you with gentle hands, slowly lowering you down so you can sit after kicking the knives away.

"You're okay," he says again, though it sounds like it's more for himself than for you.

"I'm fine," you say, smiling albeit weakly. "Polty didn't stand a chance."

"Polty?" Lockwood parts from your side, grasping his bag from the corner and digging in it for a first aid kit. "You named the ghost?"

Nodding, you lean your head back against the wall. "He was my best mate."

There's a small laugh. "I don't think Lucy will appreciate that sentiment."

He's beside you again before you can even really process it, gingerly touching the ripped hole in your jumper. There's a lot more blood there than you initially realised.

"Do you think you can get your jumper off?" Lockwood asks. "I need to see the cuts."

Normally, you would've made a comment at that, but your throat feels awfully dry. "Take the knife out first?"

He goes pale, eyeing the - thankfully - small knife stuck in your arm.

"This will hurt. Hold onto my arm."

And you do. You weakly wrap your hand around his forearm, bracing yourself for the pain. He begins to count down from three, but he yanks the knife out on one, and you shout in pain, squeezing his arm.

"You pulled it early!"

"You would've made it harder to get out if I'd counted down the whole way." He looks a little bad for doing it, but you can understand why he did it. "Jumper?"

With his help, you manage to pull the thing off, hissing as you move your injured shoulder. Your T-shirt is stained at the sleeve, too, and partially at the neckline. It stings to pull it from the wound, but, soon enough, the cuts are visible. They're neat little things, nothing more than small slits in your skin, but they go deep. Lockwood will only be able to do so much.

With shaking hands, Lockwood pulls some things out of the first aid kit. You're too sore to really notice.

"You're an idiot, you know that, right?"

His voice shocks you out of the daze you were slipping into. "Hmm?"

"You shouldn't have done that alone. Look what's happened."

As he brings an alcohol wipe to the gashes, you wince at the sharp sting and the pressure he applies but say, "And what should I have done? Let you be the one to do it alone? We both know that you wouldn't have let me help, Lockwood. And you're more important in the grand scheme of things. I think I would've made quite the sacrifice if it had come to it."

"Don't say that." His voice wavers slightly, so quietly you barely hear it. "You're important to me."

He applies more pressure to the wounds, then he places wound dressings over them before grabbing a water bottle from his bag and soaking a tissue. Gently, he takes your arm in his hand and cleans away the slowly drying blood. It's messy work - the tissue keeps flaking apart, but it does the job and, soon enough, your arm is only faintly stained with your blood. He cleans the little bit of blood away from your ear quickly, placing a little plaster over the cut.

"I wasn't going to let you do it," you say, gratefully swallowing the painkillers he hands you. "You would've killed yourself to save us."

"And you didn't just try practically the same thing?"

There's an undertone of anger in his voice, but it's weak, taken over almost completely by his concern.

"(name) -" He hesitates, looking away from you. His ears are tinted slightly red. "You can't just be reckless like that. Not when..."

His fingers brush yours as you say, "When what?"

You can feel the tremble in his fingers. Although you're the one with stab wounds that still need medical attention, you worry. His smile, that cocky grin you've grown so fond of, is nowhere to be seen, replaced instead by parted lips and heavy breathing. The pulse you can feel in his fingers is erratic.

"Not when you mean so much to me. I can't lose you."

The words take you aback. For a moment, you're acutely aware of his skin touching yours, of the sound of his breaths, and the way the light accentuates the features on his face. His cheekbones look sharper, and his eyes glimmer, darkness set alight with little stars.

He mistakes your shocked silence for rejection. "A night cab should be here soon, then we can get you to a hospital and -"

His words falter when your good hand touches his cheek. Slowly, his gaze turns to your outstretched arm, gradually making its way up the limb until he's looking at you - your eyes, your lips. This is the most nervous you've seen him, and it makes you feel a little triumphant. Not many people make Anthony Lockwood nervous.

"I'm okay," you promise. "You've patched me up, and we're going to get me taken care of, yeah? But, first..."

"But first?" His eyebrow quirks, and he watches you closely.

It's something you never would do in normal circumstances. Really, you're probably not in the right state of mind, but you've wanted to do this for months. And Lockwood doesn't stop you.

When your lips touch his, you feel a sense of completeness. Like your soul has been made whole. It's as if they're the missing piece to a puzzle you've been trying to finish all your life, finally found after years and years of searching.

One of Lockwood's hands holds the back of your neck, his touch gentle, giving you enough leeway to pull away if you so wish. But you don't. You won't. No, instead your clutch his shirt with your good hand, holding him close. You never want this to end, this feeling of finally being whole. Your heart is racing, and it feels as though your very being is going to implode from pure elation.

Carefully, reluctantly, he pulls away, but his face stays close. His eyes search yours for any glimpse of regret, but he finds none, and he grins, at last. The smile sends a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself smiling, too, despite your pain.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for that," he says, his voice barely more than a whisper.

You can feel his breath on your lips. "I might have an idea."

And then he's kissing you again, snatching your breath away.

Silently, you're thanking the poltergeist for the wounds, a thought that almost makes you laugh.

[yumeka-sxf]

Here's my remaining SxF photos from Anime Expo! (I'm back home from the con now and will be sharing pics of my merch haul tomorrow!)

I had a wonderful time and it was great seeing so much SxF love while I was there! However, I have to admit that I'm a little surprised/disappointed that they didn't have any exclusive SxF announcements or sneak peeks at any of the panels (and no, I don't count the Street Fighter collab as that kind of noteworthy announcement, lol). They showed exclusive content and trailer reveals for lots of other anime, some that aren't even scheduled to be released until next year, but nothing for SxF that wasn't already revealed before. Considering how much attention SxF was getting throughout the con, it was weird that they didn't have something - if not a trailer/sneak peek of season 2, then at least an announcement that Crunchyroll has officially licensed it, or dates that they plan to screen the movie outside Japan. The fact that they brought Eguchi as a guest really gave the impression they would show off something exclusive or have some big announcement. Maybe they had planned to, but in the end, Crunchyroll or whoever wasn't able to get permission in time. But besides being a bit bummed about that, everything else was awesome, so I can't complain!

Also, for anyone wondering about my health condition that I mentioned in my first Anime Expo post, thankfully it didn't interfere much with my enjoyment of the con. As I thought, the adrenaline and stimulation kept me going, though I did have bad bouts of constipation (which isn't unusual for me when I'm off my usual eating/sleeping schedule). However, now that I'm no longer distracted by AX, the sickly fatigue I was feeling before is coming back. I'm still taking the antibiotics but I have a feeling they won't fix the issue. I'll very likely be getting a coloscopy soon, if not next week then by the end of the month.

[frost-queen]

Family Business //part 4 (Reader!Winchester x Spencer Reid)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic​, @theletterhart​, @alex--awesome--22​, @elllie-does-the-posts​, @floatlosers​, @merlieve​, @queen-of-books​, @glimmering-darling-dolly​, @denkisclown​, @wildieflower​, @meyocoko​, @bubblybrianna​, @justanothercoco​ @idkwhatmyusernam,  @subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23​, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr​, 

Summary: The BAU closing in on you stirs up a lot of emotions. Will they finally have their clutches on you or can you stay out of the approaching danger? 

Read  part 1 here! & part 2 here! & part 3 & part 5 & part 6

Heavy breaths filled the forest. The trees passing by like smudged paintings. Your arms moving around with the movement of your running. Hounds growling and snapping their mouths not far behind. Flashes of flashlights illuminating your path. You avoided running in a straight line, but it was useless. The dogs had already picked up your scent. Stuck in their noses that pulled them in like a lifeline. 

Muffled voices echoed through the woods as you could only distinguish the tone in their voice. Ducking down from a low hanging branch, you nearly cut your arm at a sharp edge. Freedom was too far out of reach to make it. This might be your final run. Your breath forming like a cloud in front of you as you moved to the right of the forest. In the distance you spotted red and blue lights. 

More voices came from somewhere in front of you, forcing you to take a turn, running east. Chased down like a prey by hounds and men. The voices became louder as they were closing in on you. You could sense it as the little hairs in your neck spiked up. They were closing in on you. circling around you like a swarm.

You groaned loud, running on adrenaline. Your heart pumping faster to provide your organs with the fuel they needed. – “Y/n Winchester!” – you suddenly heard loud and clear. You could recognize that voice from anywhere. It was Hotch. Spencer’s chief. You stopped briefly, looking over your shoulder. There you saw him running over followed by a few policemen holding the rabid hounds. Snapping their mouths in your direction. Turning your head you saw Morgan approach from the side, gun up. – “Stay where you are Y/n!” – Morgan shouted, fingers firm around his gun. You moved a bit back, greeted with Prentiss. – “Y/n don’t do this.” – she said aiming for you. 

You felt trapped as from all four sides, you were blocked. You couldn’t just surrender yourself. Not to them. Not to the BAU. You made brief eye contact with Hotch. He slowly shook his head, keeping his stern expression up. – “Hands up Y/n.” – Morgan spoke forcing you to do so. You kept them down, slowly moving your hand to your back. Keeping your focus on Hotch.  – “Y/n!” – He shouted re-aiming his gun at you. Your chest rose heavily with pain in your eyes. Then there was a shot. Bang!

24h earlier

Cars drove by as the impala stood at the side of the road. A map laid out on the hood. Sam and Dean hovered over it. You leaned against the car door eating a sandwich you bought in one of those small gas station / shops at the side of the road. Spencer was in the car searching for his jacket as he found it rather chilly this morning. It was after all 6 in the morning. You turned your head seeing him crawl back out. Feet and bottom sticking out first. – “Got it.” – he said victoriously, showing you, his jacket. 

You gave him a smile as a reply. He shut the door of the back seat. You watched him put on his jacket, hesitant as one arm was already in. – “Oh, are you chilly Y/n? You seem chilly.” – he observed from the way you gently rubbed your hand against your arm. Spencer was already taking his jacket off to give to you when you received another one. You frowned turning to your right. Dean holding his jacket out for you. – “Put this on!” -  he insisted. 

You took his jacket. – “You can keep yours, thank you Spence.” – you told him, laying the half-eaten sandwich aside. – “Hey not on the car!” – Dean protested, taking your sandwich off his car. You shrugged your shoulders, putting his jacket on. It was warm from his body heat. Spencer lowered his gaze, putting his jacket back on.

You took your sandwich back from your brother who held it in sight, arms stretched out to you. – “So where to?” – you asked coming to stand in between of your brothers. Spencer coming to. He felt a bit left out and wanted to be included once more. He came standing behind you, sliding his arms around your waist, closing you in. He let his chin rest on your shoulder to have a closer look of the map. – “I really have no idea…” – Sam sighed scratching his chin. 

“At this point I feel as if nowhere is safe.” – Dean tilted his head to take a better view of the mapping. – “I mean we’re not dealing with some lazy cops. The BAU tracks serial killers for a living. If they can find them, they can find us.” – Sam continued. – “It’s true.” – Spencer spoke. – “Garcia is the best at finding those that want to remain unfound. I’m surprised they haven’t showed up yet.” – you elbowed Spencer in the rib. 

Now was not the time to lessen your chances. – “I just think they should know what kind of trouble we are in.” – Spencer spoke fully ignoring your plead to silence. – “We.” – Dean spoke letting his finger move from Sam to you and him. – “Not you, us. Remember this is your mess profiler.” – Dean said making Spencer lift his head up. – “I know…” – he replied, turning his head away. – “And I have regretted it ever since.”

“If you perhaps told me sooner, I wouldn’t have…” – he said to you. Your eyes widened spinning sharply in his embrace. – “I’m sorry? If I told you, you’d had send me to therapy!” – you spoke back, removing his hands from you. Sam nudged Dean to give you some space. Dean collected the map, following Sam to the back of the car. – “I wouldn’t have send you to therapy.” – Spencer answered. – “Oh really!” – You sarcastically replied. – “So you are saying, you Spencer Reid the man of facts and logic would’ve believed me when I said ‘hey darling how was your day, oh by the way my brothers hunt monsters, and so did I before I met you. Here’s your mail’.” – you called out making Spencer roll his eyes at you. 

“You would’ve laughed in my face and ask about my sanity.” – you continued. – “If you had explained it better I perhaps would’ve understood more and not put us in this mess.” – Spencer answered loudly. – “I am not the one who called the BAU into this!” – you shouted. Spencer folded his hands, lowering his gaze. – “Can we please not fight.” – he begged knowing this conversation was taking a dreadful turn of pointing fingers. You took a deep breath to calm yourself. Turning on your heel, you went for the backseat. – “Everything okay Y/n?” – Dean asked as you had opened the door. – “Fine!” – you snapped at him, getting in.

Spencer exhaled deep feeling awful in an instant. He moved around the car to the other door. Meeting Sam on his way. – “Hey, keep your head up Spencer. We’re all just a bit on edge.” – Sam reassured him with a pat against his arm. Spencer nodded, getting in the back with you. He glanced your way, but you refused to look back. Dean started the car, driving off. By midday sat you in a motel room off the road. Dean and Sam cleaning their guns at the table. 

Spencer’s phone went. He looked at the screen seeing who called him. He tried to make eye contact with you, but you didn’t respond yet. He swallowed moving a bit away to pick up the phone. – “Reid!” – he said even though the person calling him already knew that. – “Is your personal business handled?” – Hotch asked on the other end of the phone. Spencer moved his head a bit further into the room to catch a glimpse of you in the sofa. – “No… why…” – he answered trying not to sound shaky. 

“We… need you, Reid. You know the Winchesters best. Garcia has been tracking them for days now. We’ve found camera footage of them near a gas station two days ago. We are landed ten minutes ago, if you could meet us, that would be great.” – Spencer listened with worry in his heart. – “We really could use your brains, Reid. I…I know it might be hard for you since… since you and Y/n well…” – Hotch didn’t need to explain any further. Hotch sighed deep on the other end of the phone. – “We need you Reid to have this handled swiftly and smooth.”

“I…I…can’t help you…” – Spencer answered, staring at you. Finally you returned his gaze with furrowed brows. – “I… can’t… not like this…” – he spoke seeing you get up and approach. You motioned to him if it was his team. Spencer nodded slowly. – “I’m sorry Hotch… I can’t…. you’ve got to stop the chase. It’s not them…” – Spencer told him, staring into your eyes. – “You told us yourself it was them. If they had nothing to do with it, their innocence can be proven with an interrogation… but Reid, I must tell you we found their blood on the scene. It is no coincidence.” – Hotch explained. 

Spencer briefly closed his eyes with a heavy heart. – “I know…” – he answered, already knowing that. – “My offer still stands.” – Hotch said. – “We loved to see you return for this Reid.” – Spencer moved the phone down, ending the call. – “And?” – you asked anxious. Spencer swallowed hard, looking over at your brothers. – “I…I…” – he exhaled loud, moving his hand over his face. – “Just spit it out!” – Dean insisted, his fist pressed onto the table. – “Camera footage from that gas station two days ago got in Garcia’s radar.” – he informed calmly. – “My team is already at the scene, drawing in closer to us.” – Dean got up from his chair furious. Sam jumping up to hold his brother back. – “So you are to say me that we are being circled as we speak?” 

Spencer nodded at Dean’s question. – “What else?” – you asked seeing there was more he was hiding. – “At the scene of the murder… where I…” – Spencer stopped talking, lowering his gaze remembering his own actions. He needn’t more words as everyone knew what day he was speaking of. – “They found your blood on the scene Y/n… on the victim…” – you gasped taking a step back. You didn’t even remember getting hurt from fighting that monster, but perhaps you were. – “They are determined to arrest you.” – Spencer finished.

“And blame me for murder?” – you filled in with disbelieve. It was now Dean’s turn to hold Sam back. Who was ready to fight Spencer to out his rage at. – “How long do you know this information?” – Sam shouted, puffing his chest. – “A while…” – Spencer confessed since there was no use in lying. – “So… so I am doomed to hang for murder.” – you called out, your knees going shaky. – “Y/n No!” – Spencer replied approaching you. – “I will do anything in power to prevent that.” – he wrapped his arms around you. 

You punched your fist against his shoulder. – “I’m sorry… I’m sorry Y/n.” – he told you, keeping you tight in his embrace. You stopped punching him, breaking down on his shoulder. – “No matter what I do, I can’t keep the tag of my back.” – you cried against his chest. – “This is all my fault…” – Dean spoke. – “I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have called you back. If I hadn’t… you’d wouldn’t get sucked back into our shitty family business.” – You turned to Dean, shaking your head.

“I made my choice…” – You let go of Spencer to hug your brothers. After some take-out went you all to bed. Spencer slipped under the covers as you moved over to him. He moved his arms around you, you laying your head on his bare chest. – “I promise I’ll figure it out Y/n.” – he mumbled, letting his fingers stroke through your hair. You hummed loud staring at the wall. Spencer’s hand slid down to your back, taking a deep breath. – “I’m not letting you be blamed for murder.”

You lifted your head up, arm resting on his chest. – “We have no way of proofing my innocence Spence. We were there. There is nothing left of the monster.” – you told him drawing little circles on his chest with your finger. – “I’ll figure it out… you know I will.” – he kept his hand behind your head, fingers intertwined with your hair. – “I hope so…” – you answered with a faint smile. Letting your gaze go from his eyes to his lips, you leaned in closer. Spencer parted his lips to you, fully accepting your kiss. It felt like the kiss hid many emotions. 

Emotions you dared not to speak off. Somewhere in the middle of the night, you woke up. Spencer vast asleep beside you. You kissed his cheek before slipping out of the bed. Putting on your clothes, you snuck out of the room. The motel room was eerie silent. Too silent. You needed to think, put your head straight. With one last glance, left you the motel, going for a night walk. You wandered off into the woods across from the motel. The neon sign flickering Mtel vacacy avlable. A few words not lighting up.

Bang. Spencer shot awake. Sitting up, he let his hand slide across the matrass. Once feeling that it was empty and cold, panicked he. – “Y/n!” – he called out, moving his hands desperately over the matrass as if he simply misplaced you. – “Y/n!” – he repeated loud, throwing the covers off. He got out of bed, running out of the room. Switching the light on, he looked around hastily. 

“Y/n!” – he shouted moving to the bathroom. It was empty making his heartbeat faster with worry. Another door opened, Dean and Sam popping their head out. – “What’s with the noise profiler?” – Dean asked still very sleepy. – “Y/n! She’s not here.” – he blurted out in a panic, throwing some pillows away. Dean suddenly was awake, eyes wide. He ran to the front door, opening it. – “Y/n!” – he yelled loud, his voice scraping from the intensity.

You dropped to the ground, hearing footsteps approach. Morgan knelt beside you, putting your hands behind your back. – “I’m sorry Y/n…” – he said cuffing you. – “You are under arrest.” – he filled in, helping you up your feet. You let your head hang following his lead. The dogs barking dangerously in your direction, luckily still on their leash. You lifted your head up, coming in contact with Hotch. His expression contracted with conflict and determination. You received a shove, guided towards the police cars on the road.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!  

[cynoswifey]

Hii how are you?

Could u do a baji hc? I would love to see how u would describe him^.^

Baji Headcanons!

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°

He probably loves showing together with you mostly because you wash his hair for him.

He would leave his jackets or shirts in your room so that you eventually end up wearing them

Always has a hair tie of you ever need one. I'm not joking like they just spawn

Falls asleep while cuddling you

Does facemask and colors his nails if you ask him. For some reason he also drags Chifuyu into this.

He randomly takes you dates like he just randomly appears in your doorstep

Takes you to his house to help him study and his mom loves you

Baji is always a little bit more calm with you emphasis on little bit. He still does crazy things while your there

He's a rough kisser. He never goes easy on you

He's really like really loyal. He also has a lot of trust in you and because of that I don't think he would get jealous easily

He's the type to get kicked out of the aracade because he almost broke the claw machine trying to get you something

We all know he's loves the thrill of adrenaline so he takes you to a lot of amusement parks or carnivals and he has to ride every rollercoaster or anything that looks like it would get the blood pumping

Chifuyu sometimes tags along on some of the dates and it just pretty eventful. Let's be honest it was on one of these dates that Baji set the car on fire.

He's doesn't know to much on the topic on love but he tries his best. He still manages to be a awesome boyfriend.

You and Baji would do those stupid challenges like the one chip for absolutely no reason he just saw the chip during a snack run and just gave you a look and said "We have to try this. " Chifuyu recorded everything

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°

Reblogs and likes are appreciated. Thank you!

I hope you like it ✨ have a great day/night

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

[r3drashii]

pikmin 4 incorrect quotes ^-^

Dingo: If I say I love you, will you say it back? 

Shepard: Yes. 

Dingo: I love you. 

Shepard: It back. 

*Later* 

Bernard: Why is Dingo crying face-down on the floor?

Pom: What’s it like being tall? 

Pom: Is it nice? 

Pom: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards? 

Yonny: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb 4 chairs, 2 boxes, a small coffee table and 6 oddly placed stools to get what they want. 

Bernard: It was one time!

Dingo: Caffeine no longer keeps me awake while I work, so instead I have Yonny periodically send me texts saying ‘we need to talk.’ 

Dingo: It gives me the right amount of adrenaline and fear I need to keep going.

Shepard: *trying to get five seconds of sleep* 

Bernard, poking Shepard’s arm: Shepard Shepard. Shepard. Shepard. 

Shepard: WHAT? 

Bernard: …We’re out of Capri Suns—

Shepard: Hey, Yonny, where are you going? 

Yonny: Well, it depends. When I die, probably hell. 

Yonny: But right now I’m going to McDonald’s.

Dingo: Let’s write Bernard a friendly note, shall we? Dear... Incompetent... Dumbass…

Shepard: I personally don't think it's possible to come up with a crazier plan. 

Dingo: We could attack them with hummus. 

Shepard: I stand corrected. 

Dingo: Just keeping things in perspective.

Shepard: Alright, listen up you little shits. 

Shepard: Not you Pom. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

Yonny: *eating a cinnamon roll* 

Dingo: Cannibalism. 

Yonny: *confused chewing noises*

Collin: A person can really hear themselves think out here. 

Collin’s mind: Did you leave the stove on? The front door unlocked!? WILL YOU DIE ALONE!? 

Collin: Well, that was a mistake.

Bernard: No problemo! 

Bernard, internally: But it was all problemo.

Bernard: Yonny and I were crossing the street, and this man drove by and honked at us. 

Collin: What did you do? 

Bernard: They chased him to the next red light, and reached into his window, and- 

Yonny: *walking in* Who wants a steering wheel?

Dingo: I hate you. 

Yonny: Well, according to this picture I drew of us holding hands, that is untrue.

Yonny, texting: Answer your phone 

Dingo, texting back: Wait a minute, I can’t find my phone 

Yonny: Understood 

Yonny, 5 minutes later: You’re a terrible person. You know you’re killing me. You’re killing me, Dingo.

Dingo: Wait a minute, how did this happen? We're smarter than this! 

Shepard: Apparently, we're not.

Dingo: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt? 

Yonny: 

Yonny: Why are you eating dirt? 

Dingo: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

Yonny: Sometimes I wonder if I’m hearing voices. 

Yonny: Then I remember that’s the last bit of sanity I have trying to get me to fall asleep at a reasonable time.

Collin: Well, needless to say. Uh-oh Spaghetti-os.

Yonny: I got us matching friendship bracelets, and you say I don't care about our relationship. 

Dingo: These are handcuffs. 

Yonny: Yeah, 'cause we're partners in crime!

Dingo: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness— 

Yonny: Hi. 

Dingo: *melts down in a flustered heap of softness*

Kidnapper: I have one of your friends. 

Pom: Which one? I have seven. 

Kidnapper: The loud, annoying, rowdy one who never shuts up. 

Pom: Which one? I have seven. 

Bernard, distantly: HEY!!!

Pom: I sort of did something and I need some advice, but I don't want a lot of judgment and criticism. 

Dingo: And you came to me?

Dingo: I don't dab. I stab.

Shepard: You really believe in Dingo? 

Bernard: Luckily, they believe in themself enough for the both of us.

Dingo: Sweet dog you got there. 

Police: Yes, this is our new drug sniffing dog. 

Dingo: Still training huh? 

Police: What do you mean? 

Dingo: 

Dingo: Never mind.

Shepard: Alright, what pizza toppings should we order? 

Dingo: Anchovies and pineapple. 

Pom: I like beets! 

Yonny: Have you guys ever had a cheese-less pizza? 

Shepard: I’m disowning all of you.

Dingo: You use emojis like a straight person. 

Yonny: That’s literally the worst thing anyone has ever said about me.

Dingo: If I'm extra sarcastic with you it probably means I'm flirting with you or you really annoy me and I can't handle your crap... have fun figuring out which one.

Bernard, talking to Dingo: Well Dingo, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Yonny do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. 

Dingo: … 

Yonny, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

Dingo: Is stabbing someone immoral? 

Yonny: Not if they consent to it. 

Bernard: Depends on who you're stabbing. 

Collin: YES??!!?

Bernard: I’m so happy two of my favorite people are getting along now. 

Shepard: Uh, Dingo and Pom are not getting along. 

Bernard: They’re not trying to kill each other. 

Shepard: You may have a point.

Shepard: Yesterday, I overheard Bernard saying “Are you sure this is a good idea?” and Yonny replying “Trust me,” and I have never moved from one room to another so quickly in my life.

Collin: Which one of you was going to tell me that tea tastes different if you put it in hot water?? 

Dingo: Y- you were putting it in cold water?? 

Shepard: Collin. Answer the question, Collin. 

Collin: Yeah??? I thought people just put it in hot water to speed up the tea-ification process. didn't realize there was an actual reason. 

Collin: Plus you think I have the patience to boil water? 

Dingo: You don't have the patience to microwave water for 3 minutes?? 

Shepard: Why are you putting it in the microwave to boil it? 

Dingo: Do you think I have the patience to boil water on the stove? 

Shepard: It takes less than a minute. 

Dingo: Is your stovetop powered by the fucking sun??? 

Shepard: How long does it take you to boil a cup of water on the stove? 

Dingo: Like seven minutes?? 

Bernard: Just stick the mug on top of the stove on medium heat and it boils in like 2 minutes... less than that if you use a saucepan! 

Shepard: Why are you putting the whole mug on the stove?? On medium heat?? Bernard? Your stove is enchanted! 

Collin: Every single person here is a fucking lunatic. 

Pom: Do none of you own a fucking kettle?!

Bernard: I'm having problems with a guy... 

Yonny: Like his dead body won't fit into your trunk kind of problems, or you like him kind of problems?