#and that ben was like the grey/white one

[ethereallock]

okay, i’m not gonna lie. the first time i saw camp cretaceous (the clip where ben reunited with brooklynn and kenji in s2), i didn’t know the context of what was happening. my cousins and sister watched it. and my first assumption was that the show was about these kids having dinosaurs like pokémon and that they were their trainers 😭😭 they gave me power ranger vibes LMFAOOOO

[chaotic-vibes-only-please]

Can I request for some ben drowned or eyeless jack smut? Like he sees you in a short skirt and just looses his self-control?

Control(Eyeless Jack x Reader Smut)

Pairing: Eyeless Jack x Afab Reader

A/N: Of course! Here you go🍵💕 Sorry, I took a long break from writing. College has been rough😭

Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, breeding and size kink heavily implied, degradation, afab reader, 18+, MDI

You're lifted up and down onto his cock at a pace that shouldn't be possible. The little skirt wrapped around your waist flows prettily against your hips as they bounce onto his thick shaft.

Jack's large hands grip your waist in a bruising grip, claws digging against your skin and threatening to break it. You're gasping and crying while he continues to use you as his personal flesh light. Your own fingers dig into his strong shoulders that flex underneath your touch, displaying the ripples of muscle he has. The grey skin on his back is scratched up by your own nails. Jack thrusts up into you particularly hard and you fall forward onto his broad chest.

Your poor cunt is so overstimulated that it almost hurts. It's the good kind of pain where you don't know whether you want it to stop or you want more.

"What's wrong Little One? Can't handle getting dicked down? This is what you deserve for wearing this tiny peice of fabric you call a fucking skirt" He grunts into your ear, his brown hair tickling your cheek as he licks a long line up the side of your neck with his monsterous black tongue. "And only a pair of panties underneath? You were begging me to bend you over" Jack chuckles before slamming you down onto your back. You yelp at the sudden change in position. He forces your thighs far apart. Your skirt flips upwards, exposing how your pussy grips his cock, folds slick with your own cum. He forces your thighs wide apart with his hands so that he can reach even deeper inside of you.

He hits impossibly deeper into your cunt, his pelvis hitting against your ass hard. Jack keeps your skirt bunched by your waist so that he can see you fully wrapped around his length. You're left a whimpering blubbering mess underneath him as the knot in your stomach tightens. Your walls twitch and clench down on him the closer you grow to your release. "That's right, take it" He groans while slamming into you harder and faster with each thrust. The pads of his fingers rub against your clit in a circular motion.

Your eyes roll back, eyelids fluttering as hot white pleasure bursts inside of you. Your thighs tremble in his hold. With one last rut of his hips, he buries his cock as deep as he can inside of you and fills you with his cum. You can feel the warmth seeping into your womb. There's so much of it dribbles down your folds and to your inner thighs. You slightly shift and whimper at feeling so full as he continues to pump load after load out of his length and into your pussy.

He thrusts into you hard, but slow to fuck his cum into you. You're left whining and clawing at his strong back. "You know better than to tease me" He growls and looks down to stare at where you're connected to him. You nod your head with a whimper and mutter a quick sorry. He slowly pulls all the way out until the tip is the only thing keeping your folds spread open and admires how his cum oozes from your cunt before pushing back in all the way inch by inch. "You wanted my attention, you'll have it all night long" He hisses from above you. Your trembling, tears covering your face and skin heated. And despite your crying, he starts to pound into you again. You knew wearing the new skirt you bought would rile him up, but as you're getting your guts rearranged you can't help to think you didn't know he'd enjoy the peice of fabric this much.

[creek-ink]

the ladz

hcs 4- ages/pronouns/preferences

made these a while ago but never posted :P

< more details and random hcs >

Toby:

-22

-does not give 2 fucks abt how he's perceived

- will fuck anything

-hopeless romantic/puppy love typa guy

-has one mean right hook

-smells like sandalwood and those one holiday cider candles

-listens to folk punk or something like that. think amigo the devil

EJ:

-22

-he/it

-silent type

-attached to intelligent and passionate ppl <3

-is bad at sautéing

-not too into music but does enjoy a good campfire song.

-bookworm, fave genre is dystopian

Ben:

-19

-NB (or something)

-swings all the ways

-falls 4 bullies lol

-platinum in all the souls games

-messiest room you've ever seen, the only exception being his desk, which is neat and orderly

-listens to mayhem (yikes)

Jeff:

-24

- c i s

-not into relationships, def only in for a score

-poser

-shops at rue21

-actually insufferable. like no u don't understand he's so annoying.

-collects fun socks

Lui:

-26

-a straight white man 🪦

-not focused/interested in love/relationships

-caffine addict

-rlllyy likes the x files

-befriends stray cats, his favorite being a grey tabby dubbed tabitha.

-loves johnny cash

(lol thxz 4 reading)

[sturn3]

𓂃 ࣪˖ situationship with athlete!matt &cheerleader!reader ౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆

★ no one knew about you two.

★ matt had quite a busy schedule. trying to balance out his football &youtube career and his grades all in one. so he wasn't looking for anything serious...

★ every game you'd steal glances at one another. whenever he'd catch you looking, you'd turn around and resume to your conversation with the other cheerleaders. when you'd catch him looking ,he'd turn around and kick the ball and shoot a goal trying to impress you.

★ for someone that didn't want to a relationship with you, he sure fought over you, a lot. picking fights with everyone in the locker rooms that would make comments about you in a sexual manner. or attack his opponents that he previously peeped trying to get a conversation out of you. even if he didn't want anything serious with you, he didn't want anyone else to have you either.

★ safe to say, he always led you on. dedicating secret goals to you at every game, texting you past 10pm to meet up, whispering sweet nothings to you just so he could have you for the moment.

★ after the big game day, you rushed out to meet him in the dark parking lot ,immediately recognizing him leaning against his truck. he looked amazing. wet hair from the shower he must've just taken, simple white tee that was tight around his biceps, defining them even more and some grey sweatpants.

★ when he saw you approaching him, he felt as if the air in his lungs had ben knocked out. every time he sees you, he swears ,you get prettier. finally, you reached him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. "You did so good today, handsome." you praised, and he gave you a shy smile.

★ as soon as you guys got in the car, all that could be heard were your heavy breaths and skin slapping.

★ when your passionate moments came to an end, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by your emotions. instantly, you started thinking maybe you should distance yourself.

★ a few weeks after that...

★ you were at a house party to celebrate your school's victory. you ignored matt like the plague. stopped replying to his texts, stopped answering his calls, not viewing his stories and changing paths every time you crossed him. that truly pained him. so, when he saw you stroking someone's bicep and giggling at someone else's joke, he saw red. wanting to drag you away from here and punch this dude. HIS girl laughting at another man's joke. ridiculous.

★ when you'd finally had enough of that random dude whose name you honestly could not remember for the life of you, you went to sit outside on the porch.

★ matt took that as an opportunity to talk to you. he hated that you ghosted him as if he meant nothing.

★ "what do you want, Matt?" you said as he stood behind you. he was surprised at how you could feel his presence. "to talk," he said.

★ "i don't believe we have anything to say." you replied as you got up, at the same time pulling your skirt down as it rode up from the movement, you began to walk away.

★ as one could imagine, matt had enough. he ran after you and grabbed your hand to pull you against him. suddenly being chest to chest with him, you were so close you could feel his breath, you were so close you thought he could hear your heart about to explode.

"why do you keep running away from me?"

"cause i don't wanna get hurt."

"so, you resort to hurting me instead??"

"look, matt, i'm sorry, i can't do this." you said again as you began to walk away from him for the hundredth time.

"no ,stop." he said, pulling you back in "you don't get it. i'm in love with you."

"no, matt. you're not."

★ as soon as you said that, he grabbed your face in his two hands to pull you in for a passionate kiss. if you thought that any kiss you had previously shared was good, this one was better than all of them combined.

"you better not be messing with me, matthew. i KNOW people," you threatened with a smile on your face as you lay your head upon his chest outside the party.

✧ ﾟ୨ৎ*💋🍒🎱⋆｡ﾟ

^ lowkeyyyy inspired 💋💋

[io-lu-art]

I know we all want redeemed Ben Solo to look and dress like his father at some point. But- ok, hear me out: There hAs to be sOme Lando spirit in there, SOMEWHERE. Like, come on, the CAPE? Are you telling me that Ben Solo, son of Leia Organa, grandson of fashion Queen Amidala, former Jedi padawan and Supreme Fashion Leader himself wouldn't fancy a cape at all? I don't believe u.

Lemme explain.

high waisted Lando pants but put inside the boots.

Shorter cape. Kinda like Lando's in Solo.

High belt, cause it looks good on him and he knows it.

Dark grey. Mid grey. With a bit of off white. (I believe this is self explanatory.)

Later in life, as he grows older, maybe he will start adding some colour to his clothes.

I'm still not decided on my definitive headcanon. The one on the right is still very close to Luke in RotJ despite the grey and higher belt, but I kinda like it? Just cause it looks more elegant. I mean, sure, you could give him a blaster (I... probably will, at some point), depending on where the stories go and how you write him as Ben. I gave him two lightsabers, because, well- I will explain that when my fanfiction is finished. Or maybe I'll abandon the idea till then. :') (Yes, yes they would be white.) Gotta see if it serves the story well or if it's just my old love for young Ahsoka's yellow shoto lightsaber blinding me.

Jeez, there are so many directions you could take this character. Jedi, pilot, smuggler, gambler, senator... there's no end to this. I've seen so much Jedi Ben Solo fanart and I love all of them. I love the robes so much that I went and made some shape exploration with them.

But the thing is I'm not really feeling it. If I were to take the story into a new direction, no Jedi, no Sith, just Force sensitives, a new take on this whole idea, expanding on what Rian Johnson gave us - which, I am - I would probably go away from the traditional Jedi designs. Sure, it all also kinda depends on how you colour it, I guess...

*sighs* there could have been so much to explore and discover in IX. But, eh, let's not turn this into another tros rant.

[sakufilms]

Time Repeats Itself

MASTERLIST

⌁ the umbrella academy x gn!teen!reader (platonic)

⌁ instead of that horrible room being empty all those years, reginald hargreeves locked you in it. what happens when you’re found by your siblings on the day of reginald’s funeral? // angst, hurt/comfort

⌁ 5.6k words

! : abuse/child abuse, confinement, isolation, the room viktor was locked in in season 1, pre-transition viktor (takes place s1e1/canon compliant), reggie hargreeves

Klaus

Klaus Hargreeves was rather known for his curious nature. The way he was constantly talking, lazily observing at all times. Small observations in his adolescence blossomed into somewhat of a sharp eye in his adult years, which he used for finding money for drugs. Anything to keep the spirits at bay.

His hand dragged along the wall of his childhood home as he scoured the halls, but he only saw it as a prison. The building that took up an entire square block, once constantly surrounded by fans and paparazzi, and now nothing more than any other old boring building on the street. Klaus laughed under his breath. Good riddance. If anyone deserved to fail so horribly it was that asshole of a father, Reginald Hargreeves himself.

Klaus began to whistle a tune lightly; something random and off the top of his head. His eyes flickered over books and knickknacks. Nothing so far looked worth selling. Nothing of enough value. His father was rich for fucks sake, there’s gotta be something good around this damned mansion.

He sighed, and Ben pouted mockingly. “Oh, Dad’s funeral isn’t as exhilarating as you’d hoped?”

Klaus waved him off. “No, no. Funeral hasn’t happened yet. We still have time for fun.” He joked lamely.

The living man and the ghost turned a corner. The hall was quite empty, and Klaus did a 180° dramatically at the sight, groaning into the palms of his hands. Where’s the good stuff?

”Klaus.” Ben sounded . . . shocked? Confused? Curious?

”What do you want, Benerino?” Klaus turned again with a huff. Ben was pointing ahead of him with furrowed brows. Klaus’ eyes flickered to his brothers line of sight, and he tilted his head. There was an elevator at the end of the hallway, standing proud with a menacing feel to it. “Oh, that’s odd.”

”Yeah, no kidding.”

Klaus jumped to the opportunity, skipping down the hall to the mystery elevator. “Think there’s something worth selling in wherever this leads?”

Ben scoffed, following him hastily. “No, Klaus— an elevator that Dad never told us about? It’s probably something more than something worth selling.” Ben’s arms were crossed over his chest as Klaus clicked the button for the elevator.

”Something more? So what you’re saying is I could be rich? Besides, Dad didn’t tell us a lot of things. Also, this house is huge, makes total sense that we missed it.” Klaus hummed to himself.

Klaus made some points, but Ben was hesitant. “No, I’m saying that maybe—“

”Ah! Here we go.” The elevator opened slowly, and Klaus strode in, Ben right behind him. There were two buttons in the elevator, Klaus clicked the bottom one which was labeled ’B’.

”Really, Klaus?”

”Mm-hmm.”

Ben sighed. “You should just be more careful sometimes.”

Klaus nodded, eyes distant. He wasn’t paying attention at all.

The elevator dinged, and Klaus silently cheered, stepping out. His smile fell in an instant. The room was almost completely empty, apart from one thing.

At the end of the room was a large, prison like metal door. There was a small window to see the inside, and he crept forward, careful and slow. Whatever this was, it made him feel uneasy.

He peered through the thick glass, and he could’ve swore his heart stopped beating in his chest. Inside, there was someone young occupying the room. They wore loose, baggy clothing. Nothing much, just the colour of simple grey. They sat on a bed in the centre of the cell, which only had white bedsheets and a white pillow to match. There was a small bedside table to the left of the bed, and on it was just one single book. The room itself was padded spikey walls and dim lights���it was no place for a teenager. And, God, how long have they been in here?

Klaus’ heart clenched because no, no, no. This was too familiar to him. Flashes of being locked in a mausoleum for hours and hours on end poured over him and clouded his vision and he couldn’t hear anything but the beating of his own heart. They can’t be in there, they can’t—

They slowly looked up, made eye contact with Klaus, and with a start they backed up until their back hit the back of the bed frame. They looked confused, but then realization hit them like a freight train, and they sat in place, body tense.

”Oh, my God . . .” Ben broke the heavy silence.

”What do I . . .” Klaus cut himself short. His mind was swarmed with thoughts and emotions, he didn’t know what to do— because what the fuck? He knew his dad was bad, but this is just insane.

You

Mom was always caring; kind. You didn’t mind that she was a robot, she treated you like a parent should. As if she were human and you were made from her blood and cells. A child of her own, though she was made. You knew it was all in her programming, but it filled you with joy nonetheless. She’d bring you new books for your reading time, with all sorts of topics and plots. She’d bring you your snacks and cook you meals, and she’d take care of you. You knew Mom—you liked her.

Pogo always had this hurting look in his eyes when your eyes met his. You never understood it, but it made your senses tingle and you always felt a pull of energy, a headache forming between your eyes. You always knew your powers were trying to reach out and uncover the secret, but you weren’t strong enough. Besides, it wasn’t in your power to read minds. You still sensed something, however. But you knew Pogo too, and you liked him.

You didn’t know many things about family dynamics, and you never had the chance to fully understand social cues as your closest friend had always been silence, but you knew that Reginald treated you how a father shouldn’t. He claimed to care about you, but you saw how in the few times that he’s admitted that, he had a calculating look in his eye. He treated you like an experiment, not his child. You hardly left the padded box. You only left for training, and using the bathroom. All the rooms were in the basement, which according to Mom, it’s not how things used to be at the academy. You knew Dad, you . . . didn’t like him. But his words had stained your bones, he raised you, he took care of you, he was your father. You wouldn’t admit that you didn’t like him.

The man standing in front of you however, you didn’t know at all. His familiarity led you to believe you had seen him in a vision, but you didn’t know him.

Why is he here, why is he here—

The funeral is today.

With that thought in mind, you were frozen in place. All of your siblings who you had never met before would all be coming today—that, you knew. You dreamt about it while in your deepest stage of sleep. It was hazy and cloudy, but you saw it. The thought of them coming home left you excited and overly nervous, but now that one of your siblings was standing in front of you, you were frozen still.

He had a shaggy appearance, yet he didn’t look awful. His clothing style seemed very out there—extravagant, and joyful. It was everything his expression wasn’t. He looked shocked, scared, confused, hurt.

His lips were moving but you couldn’t hear a thing courtesy of the thick metal box you were placed in. The expression he wore looked almost unnatural for a face like his—he had very prominent smile lines, but now his lips were tugged downward and his brows were drawn together.

He began reaching to the large wheel attached to the door. He’s letting me out? Why is he letting me out? Where are we going?

He began twisting the large wheel, face pinching together in frustration. The metal groaned and creaked from the age of the room and the lack of use of the handle. Ever since Reginald’s death, you left the box less often. It hurt you deeply, knowing Pogo and Mom were still roaming the halls. They checked in rather often, but you didn’t leave to train anymore. It pained you to know that Mom and Pogo still lived trapped in Reginald’s power and rules. Even after death had taken him, your father was still hurting you.

The door opened with a hiss, and you clutched the bedsheets so tight your knuckles changed colour. The man—Klaus, you had the sudden knowledge that that was his name—stepped in hesitantly.

”Uhm . . .” It was clear he didn’t know how to approach the situation. You didn’t either, and your mouth remained clamped shut. “Who are you?” He looked unsure if that was the right thing to ask.

Your response was nothing but heavy breaths and tensed up muscles.

He nodded slowly, an emotion akin to sadness flickering in his green eyes. “Well, I’m Klaus.” You were tempted to tell him you already knew that, but you didn’t.

He glanced to his left nervously, opened his mouth to speak, but ended up saying nothing. He turned back to you. “Are you o— why are you in here?”

You know exactly why you’re in here. You heard Reginald talk about it in a flashback—you don’t get them often but when you do they’re immensely painful, sometimes ending with nosebleeds.

You’ve had two about Reginald. The first time you had one, Reginald sat alone in his office. It was a flashback from years ago, just before you were born. His children were growing older, the academy was falling apart. You had the urge to think he looked somber, but no. He looked thoughtful.

He opened a compartment in his office closet, typed in a code, and pulled out something that baffled you. It was glowing, bright as ever. Small orbs floating around in a glass jar. He observed it for a moment, went over to the window, and set the orbs free, floating off into the night.

You didn’t know what that flashback meant, but the next one was painfully clear. You remembered the anger on his face, his quick steps.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Sir.’ Pogo had said, distressed.

’No, I will not change my mind. The academy is already falling apart as it is. I need complete control this time. This is the only option.’ Reginald had replied fiercely. That was how you knew that you’d be stuck in the box forever.

Your lips parted to speak, but this was all new to you. The fear that encased you was thicker than the metal surrounding you.

”Okay, okay . . .” Klaus nodded, talking more to himself. “I . . . will be right back. Uh, don’t go anywhere.” He started into a quick walk out the door, stopping to make sure it was all the way open. You frowned as he walked away, confusion settling in your stomach. Why did he leave it open?

You thought about leaving, as the opportunity was given to you.

You didn’t.

With the open door, you could hear things again. There were multiple footsteps coming from above, and you curled further in on yourself. Your siblings were all here.

Footsteps came closer and closer, more than one pair. Not too many, maybe two.

”Klaus, what the hell is this?” A man with a prominent scar on the right side of his head—Diego—said lowly. His eyes were wide, he looked startled. He looked frightened.

”I don’t know, I— I found the elevator, came to see what there was, and . . .” Klaus’ voice broke off. He fiddled with his fingers. Again, he glanced over to the side.

The two stepped into the box, and Diego spoke. ”Who are you?” He almost sounded mad, and you would’ve thought he was if not for the way he looked at you. “Kid, what’s your name?”

You felt your nerves spike, his body was covered with an array of knives. “Eight.”

Diego gave a heavy sigh. Klaus looked sad.

”Why are you here?” He asked. It seemed to be a frequently asked question today. “How long have you been here?”

You were rendered speechless again. Diego sighed again, and pointed at Klaus. “You, you stay here. I’m getting the others.” Diego walked away hurriedly. You weren’t sure you were ready to see the others, but he had so many knives. You shouldn’t argue.

Klaus looked at the way you were near trembling. ”Are you okay?”

You looked at him, he seemed kind. You relaxed your muscles a bit. You nodded at his question, even though your answer was a lie.

He looked to his right, a questioning look on his face. He seemed to look at nothing like that a lot. It confused you. “You like to read?” You got the feeling he was trying to calm you, but you weren’t sure if it was working. It didn’t make you feel worse, however.

He was looking down at the book on your desk. The Giver by Lois Lowry. “Yes.” You said. You liked this book a lot. It was your favourite.

The world Jonas lived in felt familiar to you, in some way, if you twisted the plot a little. The way each day was the same, the way there were so many rules. You saw a bit of yourself in the The Giver himself, too. The way he passed on memories to Jonas reminded you of how you’d get visions sometimes with human contact, or even by touching an object.

You hoped that one day you’d get to break free from your own world of sameness, and see the world how it really was. You wanted to leave this box.

“That’s cool,” you didn’t think that Klaus himself was a reader, his voice sounded a bit flat when he spoke. It was how Reginald spoke when he said he cared about you. “I know someone who likes to read.”

”Who is it?”

He nodded to himself, breathing in deeply. “My brother.” He laughed nervously. “Our brother, I guess.”

Footsteps grew louder and closer, and you tensed up again. Multiple people came into your line of vision. It was unsettling, this was all so new to you. You had never been around so many people. As much as you had wished to be around others, it was much more frightening than you’d expected.

The first person to enter was Diego. The next person was tall, he looked stern. It made your stomach churn— he was so so tall, and the box was so small. You felt unsafe in a way. You felt trapped. More trapped than you ever had in the box. He didn’t look as comforting as Klaus. The next person was a beautiful woman, her bleached blonde curly hair standing out on her skin, and she was dressed semi-casual. She seemed very kind, and the way she was gazing at you with her hurt and confusion filled eyes felt motherly. The last person stood awkwardly, but her expression was nothing but. An emotion peeked through the emotionless face she had, it was clear as day. It was anger.

”Diego, what the hell is going on?” The woman with bleach blonde hair asked—Allison. Her name was Allison.

”I don’t—“ Diego turned to you again, then took a step closer. “Why are you here?” He’d asked the question again. You looked around the room, body rigid. The way everyone was looking at you made you uncomfortable. It was so much attention, it was too much.

“Diego, give them some space.” The awkward one—Vanya, your brain supplied—said. Diego looked upset, but he listened, backing away. “Are you seeing this? Look at what that asshole did while we were gone.”

You pushed yourself up to your bed frame further, arms beginning to shake for how long you’ve held yourself in that tense position.

”You know what? Luther,” the tall man looked shocked that Diego was addressing him, “why didn’t you say anything? You were here when they were. You never even moved out, Space Boy.”

Luther’s frowned deepened, and he towered over Diego. The tension in the room was building, your heart racing. “Watch it. I didn’t even know they were here.”

”Okay, guys,” Allison held up a hand, stepping in between the two, “you’re stressing them out.”

The sound of the clacking of heels eased you, and you felt more at home again. If you focused on the sound, breathing in and out slowly, maybe you could forget the world around you, and fall into the comforting arms of your mother. “Oh, Hello, dears.” Mom’s smile was wide, and she looked around, her head turning robotically. “I see you’ve met your sibling.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

”Mom, what’s going on?” Diego stepped toward her, eyes softening at her. You realized that Diego loved Mom as much as you did.

”What do you mean, Diego?”

”I— they’re—“

Mom placed a gentle hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Picture the word in your head, dear.”

”No, that’s not what I—“

”Mom, why are they in the basement?” Allison cut in, giving you worried glances.

”Your father doesn’t like when I talk about this.” This was the first time you had seen Mom look something other than joyful. The ends of her brows pulled down, and her smile fell.

“Mom,” Diego started softly, “Dad’s dead.”

Moms shoulders sagged. “Oh, that’s right,” She smiled again, standing completely upright, “I suppose you’ll just have to ask Pogo, hmm?” You’d noticed that Mom had been acting stranger lately; she had been ever since Dad died. She was never human, but lately that’s been more clear then ever.

Mom turned and left, going back to the elevator. If she had been human, you imagined she’d walk with a bounce in her step to fit her peppy personality. Her smile would look less artificial, too.

Your siblings all looked back at you. There were varying expressions: awkwardness, confusion, nervousness, upset.

Allison was the one to move first. “Do you get out of the house often?”

You merely shook your head. I don’t get out at all.

“Do you leave this . . . box often?”

You shook your head again.

Vanya seemed to tense up at that. You wondered why. The reason was just barely in your grasp, nothing but flashes of a time long ago. It was all hazy and you couldn’t quite tell what any of it meant. You felt a headache forming at the straining.

Allison walked forward slowly, reaching for your shoulder. You didn’t move, so she gently rested her hand down. She was as gentle as a mother should be—she was as gentle as Mom was. You wouldn’t be surprised if she had a child of her own. “How about we go upstairs, all right?” She smiled kindly at you.

You were left speechless. You couldn’t even remember ever stepping in the elevator, let alone going on another floor. The idea of it made you feel nervous, yet eager. You slowly nodded.

Allison smiled kindly, but she kept glancing at the others. She helped you stand, and your hand immediately reached for hers. It was muscle memory; you always held Mom’s hand when you went to train. Your heart lurched when you realized you were holding a strangers hand, but she didn’t seem to mind.

You stepped out of the box, and this was the first time you felt apprehensive while doing so. You weren’t going to train—you were going upstairs. You walked slower, and you couldn’t bring yourself to look up. It took everything in you not to squeeze Allison’s hand too tight—and everything in you not to let go. It was strange, really. You didn’t know her, but she was being so nice.

You stepped into the rickety elevator, and you soon felt even more nervous when everyone else stepped in as well. So many people trying not to look at you, but you still caught their glances. It was so crowded, you didn’t have enough space to breathe. It was too much, it’s too much—

Allison began to rub her thumb over the back of your hand. You didn’t realize you were shaking until that moment, as the world was blurry around you and the only thing you could focus on was this room was too small.

There was a scraping sound, indicating the elevators age. The doors slowly opened, the others filed out hurriedly. You took in a breath of air, feeling it rush into your lungs. Your heart was beating fast, hitting your sternum with every beat. You felt unfit to walk all of a sudden, like your legs would give out at any moment.

Allison began to walk, and you eventually moved your legs to go with her, your shaking hand still in hers. You kept looking down. You didn’t like how many people were looking at you. It was too much.

“How about we get you in some nicer clothes?” Allison said. You looked down at what you were wearing—your regular clothes, just grey. The fabric was semi-comfortable, a little bit itchy, but you had grown used to it over time. All of your clothes had been that way. What else were you supposed to wear? ”What . . . do you mean?”

Allison looked at Vanya for a second. “Well, do you have anything else? Don’t you think it’d be nice to change?”

You shrugged. You didn’t have anything else.

Allison insisted you wore something better anyway. You went to her room, and immediately decided you didn’t like her old clothes. They fit just fine, but they were so colourful in contrast to your bland attire. You didn’t like how it made you stand out. You ended up taking some of Vanya’s old clothes instead, it was quite similar to what she wore now, and you liked that. It had some of the softest fabric you had ever felt, but the colours were still dull, like you were used to.

After a few more twists and turns in the extremely confusing layout of the house, you found Mom. You stood awkwardly in the doorway. You had never been in the kitchen before.

”Oh, there they are!” Klaus said semi loudly. You didn’t even realize everyone was in here until now. Klaus still looked nervous and upset—which was the opposite of how he sounded—and the others looked tense.

Mom turned around from the counter and smiled. “Oh, well isn’t it nice to see you all together again.” It felt odd to be included, you realized.

Mom began putting plates onto the table, one for each sibling, and then she put a tray in the centre of the table. There were fruits and cheese and crackers, one of your favourite snacks. Mom would bring it down to you often. “Eat up!” She grinned.

Vanya put a hesitant hand on your back, guiding you to the table. She seemed to understand that the amount of people was making you uncomfortable, so she led you to the chair at the end of the table.

When her hand came in contact with your back, you gasped, freezing in place. Your eyes glazed over, a white film covering them as you were thrown into a vision—no, a flashback.

You saw padded walls and dim lights, a small window at the end of the room. The box. You didn’t see much, just flashes, but you still got the picture.

Vanya had been in the box before.

“Eight?” Vanya lifted a finger, tapping your back lightly. “Are you all right?”

Everyone was still looking at you, and the idea of them being there while you had a vision made you nervous. You only nodded.

Vanya seemed unsure, as she most definitely saw the change in colour of your eyes, but she continued to lead you to your chair, and then took the one next to you. You waited for the others to grab their food first, but they didn’t. Instead, Vanya slid the tray near your plate and smiled gently at you, giving you a nod. You tried to ignore the way they were still looking at you, and you grabbed some apple slices, along with some cheese and crackers.

Your fingers shook lightly, and Vanya saw it, then spoke. “What do we do?” You hoped she was okay. You didn’t like the box, yourself; she must not of liked it either.

”Well, isn’t it simple, Vanya?” Klaus took a sip from a bottle of alcohol, and Vanya just furrowed her brows, “we don’t give Dad a funeral, he doesn’t deserve it.”

Diego and Allison just shrugged, while Luther looked outraged, but he took one glance at you and hesitated.

You weren’t sure what to think about Dad having a funeral or not. He was your Dad, the only one you ever had, but he didn’t quite raise you, and he certainly didn’t care for you. Not on a parent-child level anyway. He only cared for you in the name of science.

Diego leaned back in his chair. “I don’t think he deserved a funeral anyway.”

That caused Luther to snap. “Diego!”

Diego opened his mouth to argue, but Allison held up a hand. “Guys,” she frowned in a disappointed manner, “enough.”

You’d spent so long wanting to leave the basement, but now that you were out and free, you felt so strange and out of place. You weren’t as prepared as you wished you were, even with the amount of books you had read. All sorts of genres, too, and you still felt lost. It was like when Klaus had found you, the world went on a standstill and all the attention was on you, which was something you were not ready for.

Not only that, but not even hundreds of books could have prepared you for the amount of items that belonged to a home, or just to people themselves. You’d passed many knickknacks on your way here, and the walls were far from empty with the paintings covering every inch of them. You had the urge to go inspect everything—it was extremely different from the box.

There was a sigh to your left, and you turned. It was Pogo. “I see you’ve found your sibling.” You didn’t like the way he said found instead of met. You weren’t a thing to be found, discovered, and figured out. You were a person with feelings, still figuring things out—and frankly, you were still figuring feelings out as well, no matter how much you’ve learned on your own.

”Found?” Vanya's soft voice was on the verge of incredulous.

“My apologies,” Pogo said, head hanging in shame at his choice of words. He wasn’t bad, not like Reginald was, but no one could deny the mistakes he’s made. “I suppose it’s time for your fathers secret to be revealed.”

Luther held his head high Pogos words. You didn’t like how much respect Luther showed your father.

Pogo gripped his cane harder between his fingers for a moment, sighing while looking down at the floor. “Your father had always been so set in his ways that no matter what I did, it was hardly possible to convince him to change anything,”

”That doesn’t make this any better, Pogo.” Allison frowned.

Pogo nodded slightly. “Yes, that’s true. I did try my best to stop this from happening—“

”What exactly is this? Why the hell were they down there?” Diego was tense, and you had to continually convince yourself that he wasn’t angry at you.

”When Eight was born, it was very much the same as you. It was just as strange and sudden, and your father wasted almost no time in getting them. They were raised downstairs their entire life for a reason I never knew, but trust me I tried to stop it.”

”Should’ve tried harder.” Klaus’ lips were pursed together in a tense frown and he was gripping his bottle tightly.

“While I was trying,” Pogo started solemnly, “Grace and I would bring them books, and sometimes Grace would teach them if your father let her. We wanted to prepare them as best as we could for the day they’d finally leave.”

It wasn’t enough, and you knew that. You were already so overwhelmed it was almost unbearable.

All of your siblings began talking at once, their voices gradually growing in volume to the point where the amount of sound you were hearing all at once became deafening. Your hands shot up to your ears, desperation swallowing you whole. You had never heard so much sound—the box was always so, so quiet.

The voices slowly grew quiet, and you opened your eyes to find everyone staring at you apologetically. You removed your hands from your ears and placed them at your side. You were no longer hungry, as discomfort settled in your stomach. You didn’t like the attention.

”Children,” Pogo began, “if you’d like to know more, feel free to ask. I will answer what I can but perhaps it’d be better to talk privately.” Pogo turned to leave the room, and no one followed. You had an inkling that they would rather talk later.

”I need to think.” Luther stood up abruptly, leaving the room. The siblings began filing out the room after that, each of them sending you hurt and sad glances. Eventually it was just you, Vanya, Klaus and Mom. Vanya stood to leave the room, but she looked at Klaus hesitantly. Her eyes eventually landed on Mom and her shoulders relaxed, and she left the room, too.

You felt more comfortable now. The room was almost empty, and Mom was here. If you thought hard enough maybe you could pretend Klaus wasn’t there, and it was just you and Mom, in the box.

But with a deep breath, you knew that wasn’t true. Klaus’ personality, however, did put you at ease. You were glad that it was him that stayed rather than Luther.

You tapped the table lightly, focusing on that and Mom’s humming.

“Wasn’t it so nice meeting your siblings, dear?” Mom said, turning around with a grin. Her joyful personality made you feel at home again.

You only shrugged in reply, and saw Klaus’ shoulders sag.

”We are quite the group, aren’t we?” He said lightly. You didn’t respond.

Klaus nodded to himself, setting his bottle down on a nearby chair. He was sitting on top of the table, fiddling with his necklace.

Klaus may have started talking, or maybe he didn’t, you didn’t know. You were stuck in your own head, a vision hitting you in flashes.

A blue flash; flickering faces; a boy in baggy clothes.

A sound began playing loud enough to be heard in the kitchen. It was a song you didn’t know the lyrics to—to be fair, you didn’t know many songs.

Klaus reacted first. He began dancing without a care in the world, and you felt the tension in your shoulders fade away. The song was relaxing, as was Klaus’ obnoxious personality. Klaus swayed around the kitchen gleefully, his eyes closed with a wistful expression on his face. The corner of your mouth twitched.

You began tapping your finger on the table lightly. It didn’t take you long to find the beat.

You didn’t jump around the room like Klaus was doing, but you were feeling a hint of joy all the same.

Then there was a noise—a blue flash. It was loud and terrifying. Knives and forks and kitchen utensils flew across the room, one missing your ear only slightly before it impaled the wall. You flinched backwards, your chair knocking over as you reached for the counter.

Klaus looked startled as well, freezing in place and turning to you. “Uh, stay here.” He grabbed a fire extinguisher, and he ran off.

The feeling of being alone was suddenly unwanted again, like how you felt this morning before you’d met any of your siblings. You were frightened and alone, and you didn’t know what to do.

Except, before you were trapped, in a completely sealed and closed off room. Now, you were out in the open, you had access to whatever you wanted, and yet you couldn’t move. Or rather, you wouldn’t. Walls were what held you back before, but now you had nothing but your own fear in your way. Fear thick as the box walls.

You had the faintest idea of what was happening outside—flickering faces—and the idea of facing it firsthand made your stomach churn. Being in the kitchen for the first time was one thing, standing in front of a glowing blue ball was something else entirely.

Something you weren’t prepared for, however, was a blue light flashing in the middle of the kitchen. It was much smaller, quieter, and quicker, but it was shocking all the same. Someone was now standing in front of you—a boy in baggy clothes.

His face scrunched up at the sight of you, who was still gripping the counter with fear-filled eyes. “Who are you?”

You didn’t reply.

He tilted his head, his confusion clearly growing stronger.

Klaus then ran into the kitchen breathlessly, stopping to put his hands on his knees, taking in deep breaths. Diego shoved him, entering the room as well, your other siblings soon following. Klaus eventually stood next to you with a sigh, keeping about 2 feet of distance. Assumingly for your own comfort.

”Who’s this?” The boy looked to them. His name was Five, you thought.

”Our sibling.” Klaus nods, painting a gleeful expression on his face. You couldn’t tell if the joy he was showing was real or not.

Five pauses, eyes flickering to you. “Our what?”

“Yeah, a lot’s been going on today.”

“Our sibling,” Five says again, more to himself, “okay, we don’t have time for this. What’s the date? The exact date.”

[david-talks-sw]

The fact that Dave Filoni called Anakin “the greatest Jedi ever” is proof that he’s bias AF. His anti-Jedi rhetoric is bupkis.

I wonder if he means "the greatest" in terms of in-universe fame...?

Dunno if this is the case in Canon (then again Dave Filoni blatantly ignores any *non-motion* transmedia elements in Canon so meh), but in Legends he's:

"Anakin Skywalker, the Hero with no Fear™, handsome, dashing, the face of the Republic's army during the Clone War, the only Jedi who tried to resist the nefarious Order's coup and was treacherously murdered for it".

And I seem to remember that, in Canon, he's like the Jedi Temple's superstar anyway, every Jedi recognizes him on sight. I mean, that line from Baylon about "Anakin speaking highly of Ahsoka" must have some meaning beyond artificial personal stakes.

So from a fame and a "power level" standpoint... sure.

He's the greatest.

I'm giving Filoni the benefit of the doubt.

While I've talked about why Filoni's entire headcanon about the Jedi doesn't track with what George Lucas' intended narrative, I think it's worth acknowledging that Filoni's bias comes from part of his duties while directing The Clone Wars was.

One of the goals of TCW was humanizing Anakin, expanding upon his character make him go from "a character whose only purposes is to embody the themes presented in three movies based on the matinee serial format" to a relatable person, a good man, the hero Ben mentions to Luke in A New Hope.

I think it's normal that he'll see Anakin in a more positive light.

Also (and full disclosure this is just me theorizing I am no authority on any of this so if turns out I'm wrong just come right out and say so)...

I'm pretty sure that Filoni, Lesley Headland and most of the recent Star Wars authors are all Gen X, raised by baby boomers forced to conform to society, obey authority and have proper decorum (boys don't cry!) all of which they strove to rebel against. Add to that the corruption they witnessed growing up and coming out of high school, and you see a kind of jadedness emerge. "The rules aren't as black and white, the world is grey."

So while most of them and the boomers despised the Prequels upon release, a few of them projected a more individualistic headcanon onto those movies that fit with where their head was, at the time.

As such: Anakin isn't interpreted by them as a cautionary tale about what happens when you're greedy. He's a misunderstood rebel, a non-conformist who has his flaws but is ultimately good at heart. Which isn't entirely inaccurate, but it is very clearly an embellishment of a character who will one day become a space nazi.

The fact is... the Prequels were made by a boomer. One with very liberal values and who was himself a rebel, but a boomer all the same. The whole point of his story is...

"we all must come together and fight as one, if push comes to shove; we must all be compassionate and selfless if we are to survive; don't be greedy, let people go when it's their time to leave".

And then he makes the Jedi say that, making them beacons of truth and good and compassion in his fairy tale, now aimed at Gen Z kids.

Gen X-ers hear/read that and project all the boomer BS they had been told onto the Jedi...

"oh, so the Jedi are saying you shouldn't love yourself, you shouldn't be yourself, you should give up on what makes you an individual to fit in, you shouldn't feel any emotions"

Because nobody is that good, realistically, right?

This happened in other mediums. The one that comes to mind on the spot is the relationship between Mufasa and Scar.

In The Lion King, Mufasa is strong and noble, Scar is weak and conniving. Simple enough. Around that same time, in A Tale of Two Brothers, young Mufasa is shown to be pretty nice with Taka (Scar), who is framed as a spoiled brat to begin with.

Skip to the 2019 remake, and it's hinted Mufasa gave Scar his wound, and in The Lion Guard they explain that Scar got his nickname from Mufasa mocking him for a misadventure.

He went from being a noble king to a bully who had it coming, Scar is an underdog who got picked on. Because again: nobody is that pure, right? Fairytales be-damned.

Nothing is black and white, it's all grey.

So yeah, long story short I do think that Filoni being part of the generation that wasn't the target demographic but was old enough to retcon the crap out of the Prequels also plays a role into his view of Anakin.

[voidmade]

Material objects i've discovered/rediscovered/am still enamored with within the last year:

-dancer shorts: it took me a bit to be comfortable with wearing these outside but it's the ultimate summer comfort piece, and so multifunctional!

-jewelry-like purse

-Nike x Comme des Garcons heel sneakers: my friend who used to work at Nike showed me these pre-release and i was sneering so hard but i woke up one day wanting them and it's been nothing but love ever since

-fur vests: loved them for a long time but this fall&winter they truly showed me how wonderful they are as layers for cold weather

-Gods and Kings: The Rise and Fall of Alexander McQueen and John Galliano by Dana Thomas : incredibly researched and so captivating, it will open your eyes abt these designers' works!

-Fashion at the Edge by Caroline Evans: another incredible research into the experimental runway shows of the 90s and 00s, dealing with darker themes and controversial fashion

-Dior Backstage foundation : happily committed for nearly 4 years, and with each and every use i am reminded why i love it so much

-Rom&nd Milk Tea Velvet Tint (in shades Earl Grey Tea and Black Tea): i always wear it as a lipstick in a nice thick layer, i just adore these shades

-Ben Nye white eyeshadow

-oil perfume:generic from my local arab produce store and a bit more high end, Oud Attar Discovery Collection - i never got as many compliments on my perfume since i started using oil perfumes, the scent lasts ALL day and it always fills whatever room i am in, my dream of being a walking incense stick came true!

-Accutane:yeah this one's a life-changer ngl...and side effects weren't that bad!

-bar soaps(two i have recently purchased, regular Aleppo soap and Tobacco scented soap from Alchimia)-rediscovering them after being a long time user of just liquid soap&shower gel, yes it feels a lot more sustainable, less waste, they last longer, plus the wonderful feeling of holding a new bar of soap, its weight and volume....yeah

-Palmer's Cocoa Butter lotion: i tried other lotions this year but i have to keep coming back to this one, it's so nourishing, easy to find, and always smells divine!

-Kose Softymo Speedy Cleansing Oil: it's so popular for a good reason

-Supermilk conditioning spray from Lush: your hair will smell sooo good

-gourmand scented incense: don't be scared of stronger scents, because the smell will linger in your place even the day after you've burned these...in my house it always does!

-domestic sewing machine: i finally got one this year and it's so comforting to be able to work on clothing at home as well! Plus a good skill to hone especially since my prediction senses tell me homemade clothing will be big soon enough, after we all get sick of fast fashion/trend cycles/insane vintage resell market/clothing fitting poorly etc

[whole-circus]

hi! since your requests are open, could I ask for some room hdc?? with characters of your choice 🧎‍♀️

please take care of yourself and take your time!!

Creepypastas room headcanons!

➥ Jeff the Killer, Homicidal Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ben Drowned, Clockwork and Hobo Heart

Oh hi and thank you!! Here you go sweetie! If you wanted someone more then feel free to uptade!! :33

.•┈••✦ 🖤 ✦••┈•.

☆ Jeff the Killer

What a stinky men. Im sorry but his room is messy for sure and you can't convince me otherwise! Dirty clothes, empty cans, leftovers, stains..man, hire him a maid or something. Some dead plants and messy grafitties, stolen traffic signs and construction boards! Propably never in his life made bed, and his sheets aren't changed often.

Definitely has many band posters on his walls too! Maybe some vinyls too?? Mostly the black, red and grey colours can be seen. Hates the big light, so usually sits in dark or with small lamp. His drapes 24/7 covered. He is emo and plays loud music.

Smells like cigarettes and like room that hadn't been aired for long time.

☆ Homicidal Liu

Pretty, clean and organized room! The only 'messy' thing could be mugs he forgot to clean (same tho). Im sure he has gramophone and listen some of this old, silly, romantic songs! Also - a lot of plants, maybe even lego flowers? Couple of this aesthetic posters, some gobelins, small paintings. Photos with his friends, S/O! His bed is almost always well made. He have many books, and an easel (what an art hoe of him).

Mostly green, brown and beige colours. He loves natural light and candles, and if the weather is nice then his windows are open.

His room smells like cleaning detergents, soil and candles (usually the flower ones).

☆ Eyeless Jack

Soo..his room is not as clean, but its caused by his wild side. On his walls and furnitures are many straches from his hands (or even teeth!). Otherwise? You don't have to worry about surviving visiting his room, you have high chance to not caught anything! I would say his room is pretty dark, only becasue his walls are in gloomy colours - maybe not black, but gray, green or navy blue (all in dark shades).

Let's pretend that he actually was into medicine before all his tragic events..pls? Propably has some decorations, like skeleton, anatomy-related posters! Also likes to keep his blinds shut, he is pretty hypersensitive in terms to hearing, sight, smell. And maybe..he would have this small, funny fridge in his room, you know - to keep his..food..fresh!

About the smell..maybe a bit of blood? And something rotten? But its not that strong tho!

☆ Ben Drowned

Musty, dusty and rusty room, but we still love him! He would clean once in a while, and he do that very solid..but that doesn't last long - his room gets messy very easly. When he isnt gaming then he is sleeping..pretty productive, huh? Bed is never made, lots of junk food wrappers, empty (or not) cans..

LED lights 25/8! His room is pretty dark, propably never seen the sun. On his walls are posters from movies, anime and games. Has pretty professional gaming set when it comes to computer (I would describe it but i only know that computer need screen and keybord lol). High chance of having some psp gaming corner! Like bean bag pouffe, TV and stuff. Also! Collects figures like funko pops, anime figures, nendoroids. Ben have pretty nice Lego collection too!

His room smells like sweat and energy drinks.

☆ Clockwork

A bit messy, but in this aesthetic way - in other way, chaos under control! You know, some clothes at the floor or on chair..some dirty mugs..and her trash can is a bit too full..but as I said - everything looks pretty planed..! She has many blankets and plushies (she would never admit to that tho) on her bed.

In her room dominates mostly shades of dark green and white! Has many fun stuff in her room - rocks, animal skulls..sorry fellow animal lovers, promise they were found! But also a guitar! Full jewelry holder - and they are all well made! Thats why they are a bit too messy.. And she keeps many fake plants, she sucks at taking care of them. Clockwork has many string lights in various shapes!

Dunno, but I cant really assign smell of her room! Maybe something like dust and coffee?

☆ Hobo Heart

Ahh I miss this pretty boy to be honest! His room is clean, end of the sentence, thats it. I also think that he would have some pet in terrarium or aquarium - lizard, frog or just some fishes. Even if they are small, he treat them with proper respect and like the family members!

Has white walls with paintings and photos of his friends/SO, but most of the decorations are in shade of red. Also vinyls as decorations and posters of his favorite singers/bands (m sorry but he totally looks like somoene listening to Lana Del Ray vibes T^T) - all in this 'aesthetic way'! Simple light bed sheets, and when his bed is made (which is pretty often) he put pillows that have this silly shapes. Like to keep his room natural lightened and loves candles!

His room smells pretty like vanilia, but its not a strong scent.

.•┈••✦ 🖤 ✦••┈•.

[vannyzsblog]

daddy’s home.

jeff the killer x f!reader

warnings: rough sex, size difference, age difference 23 and 18, bondage, public sex and Dom & sub.

you been’ve warned only 18+ ONLY.

you been dating Jeff for about 3 years now. and sex for you is like heavenly, the only thing is he is a killer and your family doesn’t like that but they support someways of the relationship but had to keep it together including your sexual stuff that’s goes on in the bed room. one night you was at the creepy-mansion with your lazy horny boyfriend, who was playing video games with the looking elf boy ben drowned and they was screaming ofc. You went down stairs to grab some water because you was dry in the throat after your intense stomach workout, you seat were Jeff was. he was a tall very buff man around 6’7 so you could sit on his lap everywhere even by his friends or your friends, Jeff puts his hands on your lap rubbing your delectable pussy to his surprised it was very wet for him. He wispier’s to you” you know that your little sweet pussy is making my more and more hard for me to put this dick in you, you are very living up to your nickname my little sweet slut.” As you get up and pull his grey sweats down and goes slow on his big throbbing cock, you sit on it and moan a little bit, ben didn’t think to look as he almost everyone seen you two fuck publicly and it’s not new to here you two fucking every night and day. he starts going slowly on your coated cilt and make his way down with his hand to your pussy, some hours pasted and here you are getting your brain fucked out to the max he grabs your ass slams you down while still playing games with Ben. Ben was not pissed of the fact your getting your organs fucked out but he is mad because you are helping de-stressing and winning with the help of your pussy and lap fucking he is winning and making him pissed. After the long matches of the two Ben left for to go killing humans like always, Jeff grabs a hold of your ass and ties your arms with his big strong hand and fucking you down. You feel it you had two organisms but no you have ten in a row organisms and you was on your last one but Jeff want some sucking off before he finishes you. He cums in you one more time before finishing with your now broken tired up pussy he grabs your small petite body for your waist and starts to slap your ass with hard ass force.”you been so good on my dick and you fucking me made me feel so good baby, now I want you repay this big king cock your mouth if you will baby.” you get on your hands & knees but before you could put your mouth on his cock he grabs your hair smash’s you’re face in his cock in your pretty broken mouth he face fucks you for a hour or two till your hand falls off and all you think about the night was going to be Jeff and just about Jeff.”Beg for it hunny I know you want this dick all in your guts all white , you doing so good hunny.” “I want you. I want all of your cum in me Jeff.” “Good girl take this your sweet dessert baby all of this goodness.” As he gives you what you want.

he cleans you up and the floor and the couch so nobody looks at the white cream mess made from them two. he gives you a shower and let’s you rest but naked. you two talk about random nothings, and soon falls asleep, with him saying something so sweet to you.

“Goodnight my little angelic baby.”

[queenhunter102]

PART 2

(Part 1) (Part 3) Lore Page

You watched as your legs swing off the exam table, in the Med Bay you stared at the Alpha that hauled you into the Med Bay after the scuffle with that young Alpha, you wondered if you could take him in a fight almost as if he read your thoughts he glared at you.

You shifted your eyes from the man in front of you to the Doc on the other side of the room, you pull your legs up onto the table as you watch him gather wipes and plasters Doc sits down on a small rolling stool, sliding across to the table.

You watch him eye your scrapes, and bruises setting out each wipe and plaster accordingly you pull away from Doc not wanting him to touch you, Doc tears open a wipe and shows you his hand with the wipe in it before he tries to touch you swipe at his hand warning him.

The Alpha growls at you causing you to snap your head in his direction, glaring at him you growled in response not backing down, your growl scared the Doctor.

“Ok Captian get out,” Doc said irritated, the ‘Captain’ looked at Doc like he just shot his puppy “But Doc she just took a swipe at you” he huffed.“Only because she’s stressed out” Doc snapped, getting out of his seat, and shoving the ‘Captain’ out of the room into the hallway.

“Is that better now?” Doc asked as he watched your omega relax just a touch “Yeah that’s much better” He muttered sitting back down in front of you and taking the wipe back in his hand, you swipe at him again, Doc takes a moment trying to find a solution 

“Ok, here,” he said holding the wipe out to you, you take it and happily clean your scrapes and apply the bandages, Doc rolls away from you towards his desk picking up a notepad and pen, rolling back to you.

“Do you have a patch” he questioned, you showed him your right arm turning your wrist to him, “Can I check it?” he asked, you nod as you apply the last bandages he gently takes your arm, gently probing at the area, and gently pulling at the skin.

You watch him knowing what he is looking for, Red rash, bruising, broken or bleeding skin when he finds nothing he lightly grazes over the patch checking the battery life on it.

“What make and model is it,” he asked.

“Avey’s Passion, model number Ao2978356” you rattled off, Doc lets your hand go and writes down the make and model. You took the time to look at Doc, his deep brown hair littered with grey strands, pulled back into a sleek ponytail, his white coat accentuating the pink undertone, in his reddish-brown skin, you tilt your head trying to catch a glips of his eyes.

“Isnt the Avey passion not experimental”  the ‘Captian’ asked, causing you to jump letting out a little yelp, Doc glanced up at the ‘Captian’

“Yes to Alphas, but it has been around for years, the company used to be underground,” Doc said looking back down at his notepad, watching the ‘Captain’ staring at him, analysing him.

Doc lightly taps the table gaining your attention, you look at his hand then him waiting for him to speak.

“When was the patch issued,” He asked, looking at you expectantly “Two and a half months ago,” you say, Doc only nods writing it down “Ok and when was the last testing”, your mind blanks, Doc looks up at you.

“Eh…two days ago,” you say, Doc nods and writes it down “Ok who tested it,” he asked, “Ben from Neo Crop,” you state, Doc writes it down then tears off a piece of paper and give holds it out to the ‘Captian’.

The ‘Captian’ takes it “What's this?” he questions, “Her prescription” Doc replies, the ‘Captian’ looks down at nodding his head he starts flicking his fingers as if he was counting. 

“Right ok, come on then little one,” he says turning to you, you growl at him warning him to stay away, ‘Captain’ grabs your face applying enough force so he doesn't hurt you.

“Now you listen here you little shit, I’m the Alpha and you're the omega so fucking act like one” he grits out, you snarl at him, not backing down just because he was alpha didn't mean shit.

[creepy-friday]

(Another Jeff short fanfic because I finally edited this and I love angst)

Jeff x Reader[angst]

Warnings: profanities,as always+the reader is dead

"Huh?Yeah?" he asked,both hands on the controller in front of him.

"Yeah what?"

"What?" his head was empty,no tought behind his mutilated face.

"You're fucking with me?Dude,just tell me,I'm bored and all and your idea of entertainment is exhausting me.." Ben moaned from the computer in front of the pale man.

"You're acting like a fucking 13 year old,grow up or evolve or some shit." he replied with no emotion,his eyes still stuck on the frozen image in front of him.

"I am stuck in the past,I am trying to be more like you.Mean much?" his voice sounded distorted as the screen started to glitch.

"For fucks sake." at this point the situation was helpless,the blonde man's next words were interrupted by Jeff pulling out the cable,making the colorful screen now black.

It's been three months now since your room is no longer filled with books and protection sigils,it has been emptied by the hands of the three men you used to work with.Two months since Hoodie started to eat again with the others and one month since Toby stopped pretending to not cry in front of the others.

There there was.That funny feeling.

The way the sun rises and sets to the world's liking,the way everyone moves on with their lives,the way he walks like he used to walk behind you.

If you're gone why the feelings chose to stay?

The multiple open porn tabs,the empty bottles sitting around,the clean knives on the floor waiting to be used in another fucked up request from The Operator,the big "it" that saved the young man a long time ago.

He can't remember his age anymore,he doesn't know if he's even alive or simply waiting for all of his sins to be cleared up,but what does he even do for all of his sins to be forgiven? He's stuck,he doesn't try anymore.

Did he expect you to love him?To be honest,his heart secretly earned for your validation.What is there to love at him?Maybe the good fuck?

But now you're dead and he can't even dare to think about something that will never be true.Maybe in another life both of you are 16 and meet outside the mansion.Maybe in another life he didn't kill his parents,nor traumatized his older brother.He's sure that in another life his face isn't sickly white and his body is pure from any sort of forced entry he's now tainted with.

In another life he no longer knows red like he does now.

He saw you side by side with another resident,fuck,he couldn't help but watch as you opened the door to your room for someone to enter and leave early in the morning.He was fine with that,he was okay knowing you didn't prefer his presence,but he was devastated that now you don't prefer anything.

It was just the same feeling.It wasn't over and over again,it was a constant feeling of drowning but being able to breathe.

It was just the realisation that the sky has always been grey,even if the white clouds were masking it.

[firestarishomophobic]

Ok i’m gonna update tomorrow with info on individual cats but here’s the family tree of one of my fanclans! there are two other clans but this is the only one i have a tree for thus far. this clan is called Mother’s Mountain and they’re one of the 3 bens.

ask questions if you like! about the cats, their names, the clans, or the clan structures!

here are the allegiances;

MOTHER’S MOUNTAIN

AMBASSADOR: Tormentil of the Grizzled Vow: Grey tabby tom with yellow

eyes

Apprentice–Cottonpaw

SAGE: Sallowstar: Pale tortoiseshell and white molly with amber eyes

HEALERS: Agrimony: Golden yellow tabby tom with blue eyes

Chamomile: White tom with pink eyes

Apprentice–Fernpaw

WARRIORS: Orachesight: Dark reddish-ginger tabby molly with one green eye

and one blue eye

Brackenstalk: Small orange tabby molly with green eyes

Apprentice–Mudpaw

Mossnose: Soft gray tabby molly with blue eyes

Peatstrike: Muscular, dark brown tabby tom with silver blue eyes

Streamstep: Soft silver tabby molly with blue eyes.

Shadyears: Small, black and white tom with bright green eyes

Cliffpounce: bright, tortoiseshell and white molly with green eyes

CAMPKEEPERS: Foxburrow: Dark orange tabby molly with green eyes

Furzeflower: Golden yellow tabby tom with green eyes

Lichenrock: Long-furred black molly with amber eyes

Echocave: Gray and cream tortoiseshell molly with yellow eyes

Shinebelly: Orange and white tom

QUEENS: Spiderweb: small black tom with three legs

Sunnyheart: Shiny brown tabby molly with blue eyes

APPRENTICES: Cottonpaw: White molly with pink eyes

Fernpaw: Orange molly with blue eyes

Mudpaw: brown tom

KITS: Heathkit: Dark tortoiseshell and white molly

Stonekit: brown-gray molly

ELDERS: Bramblingleap: Tortoiseshell tabby molly with amber eyes

Beetleclaw: Black molly

Shrewnose: Dark brown tom

[five-miles-over]

Little Darling

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Living with the God of Mischief in London comes with finding many surprises, and one of those surprises happens to be a four-year-old named Tom Hiddleston.

Word Count: 4,092

Warnings: a few swearing instances, established roommate relationship, but mostly fluff

No one had ever said that living with the God of Mischief would be easy, let alone boring. Sometimes, you'd come home to your shared two-bedroom flat in London and find the entire living room filled with stray cats, one of whom wore a name tag that said 'Hel'. One time, you woke up to hear neighing in the bedroom only to hear your Asgardian flatmate staunchly deny the existence of a horse within the premises. There was also the time when you found your Tupperware lids changed from red to green; that was one of the most tame incidents since you started living with Loki. Then there was the time when you found Loki sitting inside the kitchen shoveling spoonfuls of strawberry cheesecake Ben and Jerry's into his mouth while the radio played Elton John's version of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight". The morning after that, you found the flat perfectly immaculate - the floors sparkling clean, the sink clear of all dirty dishes, the carpet free of coffee stains, and a bouquet of freshly-cut flowers on the kitchen table. You swore he used some of his powers to do the job, but still thanked your flatmate while he smirked like he held the world in the palm of his hand. 

And in today's case, you woke up to find the strawberry jam completely empty after you had just bought a new jar two days ago. If it hadn't been for your roommate giving you the silent treatment until you agreed, you wouldn't bothered to set foot inside a Waitrose on a Thursday evening. It had already been a long day, too demanding. All you wanted to do was come home, eat some ice cream before Loki can finish it all, and then binge-watch one of your favorite shows. 

You placed your bags of groceries in front of your apartment, reaching for your keys. When you opened the door, the flat was completely silent even though the lights were on. "Loki?" You called his name a few more times, locking the door behind you. Maybe he was out with his brother, or indulging in some mischief that may or may not end with him being punished by the local magistrate or worse, Asgardian justice. With a sigh, you wandered towards a new book cast on the coffee table.

'Norse Mythology' by Neil Gaiman…what could Loki possibly be doing with this book? Fact-checking himself?You wouldn't have given it a second thought, but there was a black leather wallet next to the book. It couldn't have been Loki's because well, Loki's wallet would've been enchanted with some spell that caused it to self-destruct whenever you or anyone other than Loki himself picked it up. You knew it was wrong to snoop, but assuming that this was a stolen wallet, you figured that you might as well open it anyways. If you knew whom it belonged to, you could call them and return it.

Inside the wallet were a few debit and credit cards, a twenty-pound note, something small related to UNICEF, a supermarket membership, and…a business card with the telephone number of a London talent agency. You raised your eyebrow only to drop your jaw when a small photograph came between your fingers. It was a photograph of a familiar man with sky blue eyes, defined cheekbones, and short curls that were a mixture of ginger and Golden Retriever blond. He was sitting next to an elderly woman with white hair and a genuine smile - his mother perhaps? Never mind that, Loki really messed up this time.

You slammed the wallet onto the table and anxiously looked around the rest of the living room. The cushions were ripped into shreds, the sofa covered in feathers and cotton pieces. In the center of the carpet, there were strands of what could only be pet hair and a small pair of grey boots that Loki would never be caught dead wearing. "Loki? What the fu-"

"Mister Loki's not here!" The voice of a little boy could be heard from the kitchen.

You turned your head almost immediately. There's a child inside the house? Did Loki have a son you didn't know about or something? Is that child even Loki's? Tightly gripping the bags from Waitrose in one hand, you made your way into the kitchen.

At the center of the small, round dining table sat a small boy with blonde tufts of hair parted in the middle, almost giving a small curtain-like effect on his forehead. He wore a navy blue jumper and pinstripe pants, swinging his legs underneath the table. Lost in his own little world, the little boy played with a stuffed brown dog. 

"Hello…" You greeted the child and slowly opened the refrigerator door. 

He looked up. "Hello!" 

The first of the groceries that needed to be put away was the ice cream. Along with the jam that Loki asked for, you bought two pints of strawberry cheesecake ice cream, some French cheese, a loaf of bread, and a stash of Cadbury bars in various flavors. 

"Who're you, miss?" The boy chirped, still holding the stuffed dog.

You told him your name while putting the rest of the groceries in their proper place. "I live here." As proof, you reached into your pocket and showed him your key. "What's your name?"

"I'm Tom," he brightly introduced himself.

"It's very nice to meet you, Tom." You pointed to toy in his hands. "And who is that? Is that your little doggie?"

"Yeah, his name is Bobby!" Tom places the stuffed animal on the table. "You can pet him." 

"Does he like to be petted?" Sitting across from him at the table with one of the Cadbury bars while Tom enthusiastically nodded, you gently stroked the dog's tiny head. You bit the inside of your cheek before asking your next question. You just had to know, your gut instinct was telling you to. 

"Tom…" You folded your hands and leaned slightly forward. "What's your last name? You know, most people have a first name and a last name. Tom is your first name. What's your last name? Tom…"

"Tom Hiddleston."

You gulped, slowly unwrapping the Cadbury bar. Okay, now there might be a bigger problem than the stolen wallet. The real Tom Hiddleston had to be in his thirties or something, at least according to your knowledge. How did this kid have the same name? More importantly, how did he end up in yours and Loki's apartment and what is he doing here? 

"Tom Hiddleston," you repeated to yourself before breaking a piece of the Cadbury bar and putting it inside your mouth. Then, you offered the bar to the boy. Letting the chocolate melt inside your mouth, you watched as he broke off a piece for himself and ate it. "Do you like chocolate?"

"Yeah!" 

"I love chocolate. Do you know who Mister Loki is?" You broke off another piece of the Cadbury bar. 

Tom nodded, "He's a god."

"Yes, what kind of god?"

"He's a funny god!" Tom giggles, "He likes playing pranks!"

You couldn't help but laugh too. "Yes, he does like to play pranks. What about you, do you like pranks, Tom?"

"They're funny."

"Yeah, I think so too." Only sometimes, you thought to yourself. Just then, your phone vibrated and you excused yourself to go answer it.

Loki's voice came through the other end. "Ah, it's you. Are you home, pet?"

Your smile disappeared in an instant. "Loki, you have a lot of explaining to do," you snapped, furrowing your eyebrows. "There is a four-year-old sitting in our kitchen, and he says his name is Tom Hiddleston. Also, why the hell did you steal someone's wallet?!" 

"Is he cute?"

"Loki, I swear to -"

"You adore him," Loki teased.

Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair. "Yes, but Loki… Look, I'm going to call the police as soon as this phone call is over, so they can return this wallet to the rightful owner."

"Or you could just give it to the boy. He won't know about half the things inside it."

"Loki!" 

"It's his wallet anyway."

"What?" You winced, needing to take another breath. "Loki, you're crazy."

"He deserved it," Loki nonchalantly retorted.

Slumping onto the sofa, which was still covered in pillow feathers, you held the mobile phone to your ear. "Explain," you demanded. From the corner of your eye, you could see little Tom feeding himself another piece of chocolate.

"I was having a morning stroll in the park after you'd left for the day, and I came across this man named Tom while he walking his dog.  He asked over and over again if I was the God of Mischief, and kept asking all these questions, including if I was familiar with some company called "Marvel"," Loki explained in an exasperated tone. "Then, his dog jumped on my leg and barked incessantly."

"And then?"

"Then he introduced himself to me, gave me a suffocating hug, apologized for the hug, and asked so many questions about where I was living and what I was doing in London. It was like talking to an exuberant child."

Your eyes widened like saucers. "So you turned him into one?!"

"More or less."

"And that was his wallet and his book on the table? Loki…" You groaned, rubbing your forehead. "Change him back. Please."

"Oh, how I love it when you beg, my pet," Loki snickered before sarcastically replying, "I'm totally convinced."

"Ugh! Could you at least give me Doctor Strange's number or something?!" You inquired, knowing the breaking news that would flood the internet if anyone found out that an internationally-renowned actor was transformed into an innocent four-year-old. "He needs to be changed back into an adult."

On the other side, Loki merely laughed. "No need - I assure you Doctor Strange has the appearance and the behavior of an adult."

"Fuck you!"

"Careful," Loki playfully reminded you. "No bad language in front of the children."

"You're taking care of dinner for three tonight. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal clear."

As soon as Loki ended the call, you put your phone aside and returned to the kitchen.

The little one looked so sweet, playing with the dog and singing to himself. Forgetting about the police and the wallet, you sat across from him and took a piece of chocolate.

"Tom?" You gently called, getting his attention. "Tom, Mister Loki will be coming home soon, alright? In the mean time…perhaps we can talk. Is that alright with you?"

"Sure." Tom nodded, looking up at you with a sweet smile. "You're really pretty."

"Thank you, Tom. You're very sweet." You tilted your head to the side ever-so-slightly. Since it was just the two of you in the kitchen, perhaps you could find a way to while away the time until Loki showed up. "Do you like to listen to music?"

"Yeah!"

"Yeah? Well, maybe I can turn on the radio and we can listen to some music. Would you like that?"

"Okay." Tom climbed out of the chair, following you as you approached the radio sitting on the kitchen counter.  You flicked a switch and turned a knob as it adjusted to a station playing 80's pop. Perhaps your darling little guest might know one of those tunes. 

"She's been living in her uptown world.," the voice of Billy Joel emanated from the little radio. "I bet she's never had a back-street guy. I bet her momma never told her why.

I'm gonna try for an uptown girl…"

"Oh! This is one of my favorites!" You gushed, shimmying your shoulders in time with the music and smiling. 

"She's been living in her white-bred world

as long as anyone with hot blood can. 

And now she's looking for a downtown man. 

That's what I am."

Tom called your name and tapped your wrist. Turning around, you found the little boy standing in the middle of the kitchen. "Watch this," Tom said before doing a pirouette, just like the dancer Wayne Sleep did when he performed this song with Princess Diana in December of 1985. The little boy spun around on one foot a second time before finishing with a dramatic bow. 

You laughed with appreciation and clapped. "Bravo!"

"Come dance with me, Miss. Please?" Tom looked up at you with puppy dog eyes.

"I would be delighted." Taking Tom's little hands in yours, you couldn't stop smiling as the two of you danced in the kitchen to the rest of the song, moving your shoulders and hips. Meanwhile, Tom couldn't stop giggling, looking up at you as if you were the only lady in the world and dancing with you was a dream come true. At one point, you lifted your arm up and twirled the little boy as gracefully as possible, causing him to blush.

"My uptown girl.

You know I'm in love

With an uptown girl"

"What's going on here?" Loki smirked, amused by finding the two of you dancing as the song came to an end. He placed six boxes of Chinese takeaway onto the dining table before helping himself to the Cadbury bar laying around. "Have you been missing me?"

"Mister Loki, you're here!" Tom promptly rushed to hug him, throwing his arms around Loki's legs. 

"Oh, get off, you exuberant little-" Loki was about to push the child away before he caught a glimpse of you giving him a little scowl. The God of mischief relented, patting the little boy on the back with a small smile. "Let's eat?"

You nodded. "Tom, wash your hands please?" You directed him to the bathroom, and watched him dawdle. The radio was now playing "What's Love Got to Do With It" by Tina Turner, a song you hadn't heard in years.

"You adore him," Loki teased you again while the two of you set the table with plates, forks, and cups.

You shook your head, warming the food in the microwave. "He's fun to be around, I'll admit it. By the way, thank you for choosing the fried rice and not getting the plain vegetables." 

He winked at you. "I also remembered to bring two extra fortune cookies, just in case you don't like the fortune inside the one you eat first."

"Thank you."

"I believe now would be a perfect time for you to apologize for telling me to…what was it, my pet?" Loki goaded you. "Fuck me?" 

"Huh?!" Right on cue, Tom pranced into the kitchen and sat down at the table. You snickered at Loki, and ruffled the little boy's hair. You and Loki sat on either side of Tom, and began to help yourselves to the egg rolls, fried rice, pan-fried broccoli with oyster sauce, and a kung pao dish. 

You pointed out each dish to Tom, and invited him to try some. "Thank you, Mister Loki." Tom said in a sing-song voice before putting his fork into a piece of sauce-covered broccoli. 

"You're very welcome, Tom." Loki almost beamed, unable to deny the joy he felt at the little boy's words. The two of you exchanged a smile while all of you continued eating. 

"Mister Loki?" Tom piped up after some time. "Do you dance?"

"Tom, I'm a god," he reminded the boy. "I don't indulge in such trivial things."

Tom proudly told Loki about how the two of you danced in the kitchen, how he showed off his ability to pirouette, and how he held your hands. "You should dance too, Mister Loki!"

"Do you like her?" Loki mischievously asked the boy about you. 

"Yeah!"

Loki and you chuckled. "So do I," he told the boy. 

Tom cheekily grinned, holding an egg roll in his fingers. "You fancy her?" 

The God of Mischief sharply denied, fighting the warmth flooding his cheeks. "Hang on just a second -" 

It was Tom's turn to laugh, his blue eyes sparkling with joy. His laughter rang through the kitchen, like a bird singing for all to hear.

"Tom," you ate a spoonful of fried rice, "what should a person do if they fancy someone? Let's say a man fancies a lady, what should he do?"

Tom shifted in his seat for a moment. "Uh…" He took a bite of his egg roll, chewed, and swallowed. "Uh…he should say 'you're…you're," Tom slowly answers, trying to find the right word, "you're beautiful, and…I fancy you."

"That's it?"

"That's it."

You turned to Loki and smiled before looking at Tom. "That's a very good answer, Tom. Good job."

"And do you fancy Mister Loki?"

Loki grinned mischievously as he waited for your answer.

You took a deep breath. "Well…I do like Mister Loki very much. He is funny…he is a smart god, as you probably know."

"And is he handsome?" Loki interjects.

Shaking your head, you scrunched your nose for a moment. "He can be, when he isn't being such a pain."

Tom laughed some more. "You fancy Mister Loki!"

"Tom, eat your food. Don't forget about the veggies."

"Don't forget about veggies," Tom mimicked you, earning a laugh from Loki. 

Once the three of you had finished eating, Tom asked if he could help you with the dishes. "Of course, Tom." You brought a chair close to the sink for the boy to use as a step stool. Nodding his head along with the music from the radio, Tom rinsed the soap from the dishes after you scrubbed the leftover food and grime off of them.

"You've been very helpful, Tom. Thank you." You ruffled his hair again when he put the last plate in the drying rack. "Would you like some ice cream as a reward?"

"Yes, please!"

You retrieved one of the pints from the freezer, and put three scoops into bowl for Tom. He gleefully thanked you with the same sing-song voice and strolled into the living room while eating. 

Following Tom into the living room, you were surprised to find the living room in perfect condition. The feathers from earlier today were gone, the carpet was free of hair, and the grey boots - presumably Tom's - were neatly tucked into a corner. 

Loki walked into the living room, carrying a stack of folded bedsheets. He knelt before the sofa and began to arrange them into a makeshift bed. "He can sleep on the couch tonight," the God of Mischief commented, placing Tom's stuffed dog Bobby onto the blankets. 

"Thank you, Mister Loki!" For the second time that night, Tom hugged Loki. But this time, Loki hugged him back, holding the boy in his arms for at least a minute. 

"You're welcome. Now go with her and get ready for sleep."

Giving Loki a "thank you", you led Tom away and gave him a spare toothbrush to use for the night. You stood next to him in front of the mirror, brushing your teeth while he brushed his. He even gargled a tiny cup of mouthwash and promptly spit it into the sink. 

Loki watched from a distance, unbeknownst to both of you. He admired the way you interacted with Tom, making the little boy feel welcome the same way that you made him feel welcome when he was assigned by Stark Industries to live with you for the first time. 

He reminisced about the first month that he was living with you. Loki thought about the way you helped him use the shower head, teaching him which way to turn the faucet for hot water versus hot water. He remembered how patient you were when he fumbled with the stove and nearly burned his fingers while boiling a kettle of water. Then there was the time when he tried to warm an aluminum packet of Pop-Tarts in the microwave…You were not pleased by the smell in the kitchen, but nevertheless silenced the smoke alarm before the landlord found out. And then, you showed him how to remove the wrappers and warm the Pop Tarts properly, not-so-gently chastising him all the while.

Loki snickered to himself. He really did deserve that, and the fact that you were willing to call him out when necessary was one of the reasons he liked living with you. Perhaps…perhaps Tom was right. He did fancy you, maybe even more than what he imagined.

You wiped your mouth after brushing your teeth and walked with Tom into the living room. The four-year-old boy climbed onto the couch and snuggled underneath the blankets. 

"Good night," Tom looked up at you and Loki. 

Kneeling before the boy, you gently kissed his hair. "Good night, Tom." Loki turned off the lights in the living room, and you left to change into your pajamas. 

After an hour, you meandered into the hallway to check on your little guest. While Tom peacefully slept and held his stuffed dog to his chest, you felt a pair of arms around your torso. 

"You are very beautiful…and I fancy you," Loki whispered into your ear.

"Stop it," you giggled under your breath. 

Loki held you closer. "Thank you for taking care of him."

"You need to change him back in the morning." You turned around and pointed a finger at him. "The paparazzi will find out about this."

"I've got everything under control," Loki assured you, placing his hands on your shoulders. "And when this is all over…maybe I'll bring another little one home?"

"Loki!" 

"Fine, I'll just make one."

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner and turned around. "Good night, Loki."

"Wait!" Loki grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his arms for a moment. Before you could say anything, his lips were on yours. You melted into the kiss almost immediately, clasping his arms as he held you close. "I don't think I thanked you properly for today." He smirked.

"I think you already have…" You looked up at Loki, not sure if he was being genuine or just making a joke.

Loki tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "I really fancy you," he confessed, murmuring your name with affection. "You're the kindest, most beautiful person that I've ever met on Midgard. You welcomed me into your life, you live with me even while knowing all of my history. Everyday you talk to me, indulge me in my games, and bring life into this place. Without you…living on Midgard would be like a prison. But with you, it feels close to paradise.

I know I don't make things easy for you, and sometimes I don't even know how you stand me. What I do know is…there's absolutely no one like you. And I fancy you more than anyone else. Do you…do you feel the same?"

"Loki…"

"Tell me," he softly insisted. All of the smugness from earlier had melted away, leaving nothing but a god who simply wanted to know if his affections were one-sided or not. "If you don't, then I'll forget everything I just told you, and we'll move on like nothing happened."

"And if I do?" You swallowed, your eyes meeting his. "What if I do fancy you, Loki Laufeyson of Asgard and Jotunheim?"

A warm smile spreads across Loki's face and he chuckles. "Do you…do you really?"

You replied matter-of-factly. "Sometimes that happens when you live with someone for six months, and catch them eating ice cream while crying to love songs."

"You tease," he snickered before kissing your lips again. Loki pressed his forehead against yours and held you, enjoying the moment to the fullest.

After what felt like several moments, you stroked Loki's cheekbone. "We should probably head to bed. It's late…and Tom might wake up."

Loki sighed, releasing you from his embrace. The two of you exchanged a "good night" filled with mutual affection and moved towards your separate bedrooms.

BONUS SCENE

A few hours later, you were awoken by fits of giggles and loud screaming. What could possibly be going on now? Climbing out of bed, you turned on the lights and sauntered into the living room.

"Thomas!" You chided, standing at the doorway while Loki and the little boy threw fistfuls of feathers at each other, surrounded by newly-destroyed pillows. "Thomas, for heaven's sake, it's the middle of the night! Will you go to bed?"

Tagging: @smolvenger @lokiismineforever @lokischambermaid @lokiprompts21 @lokisgoodgirl @lokisprettygirl22 @lady-rose-moon @holdmytesseract , @icytrickster17 , @thatdummy-girl , @cakesandtom , @turniptitaness , @winterfrostlovetriangle , @lady-rose-moon , @lokisninerealms , @muddyorbsblr , @123forgottherest

[ink-ray]

Have been in a bit of a creative rut recently but this one ate (lore below cut)

In my slender verse au after a victim dies / fulfills their initial purpose to the operator they are transported to a pocket dimension in which the “slender-mansion” resides

But before they can roam the endless fields and forests they have to be “approved” by the operator. (So for example if a random person is killed by someone involved with the operator they will be left to rot :( but if the operators victim winds up here they will be revived/let live in the pocket dimension) in some cases (Jeff) the victim isn’t considered useful (obedient) enough so they are allowed to run their course in the outside world until their inevitable demise.

It’s most common that victims end up here dead initially and the longer they remain dead the more they rot, obviously, but not in the traditional gruesome way that decay occurs in our universe.

First the victim’s features will begin to lose color (like hair, irises, skin, etc) beginning with the hair on the side of the body that the victim was lying on when they passed, so in Julia’s case her hair begins to fade on her front side because she was placed face down before her life ended.

Then about 7 months - a year in the body will begin to grow golden flowers at the point of injury that killed the victim. (In Julia’s case in on her stomach where she was shot) later spreading to any other points of injury and the ground around them. These flowers emit a soft glow.

It takes around 5 years for the flowers to fully over take the body and when they have done so the victim can no longer be revived. The flowers will lose their glow and pigment, eventually turning into a thick bed of white flowers.

If a person is revived after flowers had already begun growing the flowers will continue to live and will need to be removed manually, if not they will continue to grow creating a sort of zombie situation (rotting while living). When removing the flowers a short small pain occurs that’s similar to plucking body hairs.

The pale hair is permanent, similar to naturally occurring grey hairs, but any skin discoloration is not.

After being revived the person will find the mansion, which is a tall gothic style structure like this:

The house is able to expand based on housing need but it’s not common that this occurs.

The house has:

-heating/cooling

-electricity

-running water

Any other needs are covered during monthly trips where 2-4 victims are sent back out of the pocket dimension (while under close supervision) for 3-6 days. These resources are collected via shoplifting, pickpocketing, etc.

Proxies aren’t exactly a thing, there are more obedient victims but none are 100% in agreement with the operator. People like Kate the chaser are very obedient to their roles (mostly due to the influence of the operator still having an effect on them) but others like Tim or Brian can voice their opinions opposing the operator and face little consequence (mostly the operator makes their lives more inconvenient like cold showers, boiling water in the sinks, or blackouts only in their rooms, etc, etc.)

People I include in this au are

-Tobias Rodgers (Ticci Toby)

-Tim wright (the masked man / masky)

-Brian Thomas (the hooded man / hoodie)

-Jane Richardson (Jane the killer)

-Nina Hopkins (Nina the killer)

-Liu Woods (Homicidal Liu)

-Ben Drowned (brought to you via nintendo 64)

-Jack Nyras (Eyeless Jack (he sort of has eyes :I))

-Natalie Ouellette (clockwork)

-Sally Williams

-Kate Milens (Kate the chaser)

-…Alex Kralie (oops.)

This post is ridiculously long sorry😭)

[bedsyandco]

https://www.tumblr.com/bedsyandco/745832252515155968/could-we-have-a-little-sad-fluff-tho-of-gracie

I need rutger comfort next when he’s ok🥺

gracie balances the tub of ben and jerry's with two spoons on top in her left arm, putting her phone underneath her chin, she uses her right hand to knock on rut's door

she hears soft footsteps pad across the floor before the door opens and gracie's heart speeds up a little bit at the sight in front of her. rut was wearing grey sweatpants and a tight fitting white T-shirt, his hair messed up in a way that indicated he's spent the whole day in bed. how unfair that someone can look that good by simply existing.

"are you gonna come in, or stand there and drool over me some more?" rutger teases and gracie scoffs, making her way into his room, surprised to see it as clean as it was. it's not that rut was the messiest guy, from all the guys she knows he's probably one of the cleanest, but it was still cleaner than usual

"I couldn't sleep last night, so I uh- went on a cleaning rampage. Cleanest this room has probably ever been," Rut says, as if he could read her mind. gracie puts the tub of ice cream, along with the spoons, her phone and her keys on rut's bedside table before turning to look at him

before gracie can even contemplate what to say, rut gets a mischievous little grin on his face, charging towards her and wrapping his arms around her waist, tackling her onto the bed

"rutger! ow, that hurt," gracie whines and rut props his chin on her shoulder

"no it didn't," he replies

"no it didn't," gracie admits and rut lets out a soft chuckle

"this mark's?" rutger asks, tugging on the blue Michigan hoodie she was wearing

"no. Luke's," she responds and Rut nods, his hand trailing down to her thigh, rubbing his hand over he black lululemon leggings. he pinches the fabric between his fingers, pulling it slightly and smiling as it snaps back when he lets it go

"I love these pants," rut says with a grin and gracie reaches for the pillow next to her head, swinging it at rut's head but he catches it in time

"stop trying to distract me. we're talking about it," gracie says and rut lies on his back, staring at the celing

"there's nothing to talk about," he says nonchalantly and gracie sits up on her elbow, scooting closer to him so she could look him in the eye

"Rut, look at me," she says softly and rutger closes his eyes briefly before turning his head to look her in the eye

"how are you feeling?" she asks gently, her hand going to rest of his chest and he lays his hand on top of hers

"I'm fine. I mean I'm pissed and it hurts. It's like...when you know what it feels like to win, it just makes you want it so much more. I just feel like there was more I could've done. If I just played a little better-"

"rut. you did your best, and that's all anyone is expecting from you. no one is expecting you to carry this team on your back night after night. you're not gonna win them all, and that's okay. It's still really impressive that you guys made it to the final three years in a row. And you played a good game," gracie says and rut sighs, rubbing his other hand across his face

"We still lost though. And this was probably my last chance to win it. I mean I'm probably not coming back next-"

"don't. can we not go there right now. I don't wanna think about that," gracie says and rut feels bad for being the reason for that distraught look on her face.

"our ice cream is melting," rut says, trying to change the subject

"I don't even want it anymore," gracie mumbles and rutger pulls her into his chest, both of them just holding each other for a moment

"we don't have to think about it yet. we still have the natty to focus on. I'm not going anywhere," rut says pressing a kiss to her head and gracie can think it yet. he's not going anywhere yet...