#hes just a little ankle biter

[piopon]

Team horsetress 2

[raccoongrippers]

Okay, this, but Roach.

Am I wrong?

[no-tengo-ojos]

So the last few mins of ep 43…

Yorick went on his own little quest and I’m pretty sure it went something like this

(Ignore the quality of the art and pictures and just appreciate it, a LOT is going on in my head after that bucket load of emotions)

(Also ignore yoricks inconsistent number of teeth, I’m not a dentist okay)

[tired-biscuit]

tsume is one of those moms who makes hana and kiba hug for a picture on the first day of school every year even though they both end up looking like they’re seconds away from killing each other in every single one

[hoffmans-hoffman]

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Freddy Rodriguez as Tony "Tiny" Winston

Tiny tag dump ✌️

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[yesiknowimshort]

to keep up appearances, bruce asked the batkids to find reasons to excuse their various bumps and bruises:

dick was easy. gymnastics and acrobatics run deep within his veins and it’s always his “party trick”, so they just let the public come up with an answer themselves.

jason, mysterious as he is, never addressed his bumps and bruises. the public have settled on underground cage fighting.

tim’s was skateboarding and being “himself”. tim knows how he appears to the public, and as much as it pains his ego for people to see him in such a way, clumsiness fit his charming, dorky, public persona.

damian needs no excuse as he is a ‘rambunctious little ankle biter’, so bruce just lets damian straight up tell people shit like “i was engaged in battle with a duel wielding madman” and then says “kids and their wild imaginations, amiright?”.

steph insisted on fencing even though bruce argued that she would not realistically get many black eyes from fencing. she just tells people she’s very bad at it.

cass’ are from ballet duets.

duke just says “there was a spider” with no further context.

harper’s go to line is “you should see the other guy”.

and bruce is basically barbie so he comes up with a new sport each time he’s asked. and people believe it every goddamn time without question; because what else would a billionaire do with their time other than unicycle hockey and chess boxing?

[bluetimeombre]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐝𝐲𝐩𝐨𝐨L 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢e

Deadpool and Wolverine but your lady pool and an absolute SLUT for Wolverine.

[this is a complete self insert with just everything I was thinking about during the movie and since then I’ve watched it three times. It gets better every time. Snippets of the movie, will probably do a part two. SPOILERS!]

part two

Warning/disclaimer: femreaderxwolverine, sexual content, sexual language, offensive language, just being a whore the man, cursing, repeat daddy issues, never proof-read.

After digging up Logan and expecting to find a shirtless and oiled-up Hugh Jackman, you were a little more than disappointed to find the bones and metal. 'Damn it! Shit! Fuck! They Les Mis'd him!'

Eventually, you settled down next to the remains, against the same log that had impaled him. 'That was weird,' you chuckled. 'I'm much calmer now. Look, I'm not a woman in stem but you seem incredibly dead to me. Oh, you sexy lump of bones and metal. I would have let you slide them into me any day.'

'But it's good to see you,' you pat his knee. 'I gotta be honest, I've always wanted to ride you, Logan. Oh, whoops, I meant with you. Ha! Who am I kidding, no I didn't. Just you and me, getting into it. And I mean into it. Every style. Doggy. Sixty-nine. On the kitchen counter to the bathroom. Till my back broke. Yea, we'd have been good together.' You ranted, fantasies flying across your mind too quick to focus on one.

With your red-gloved hand, you jerk the chin. 'G'day mate, there's nothing that'll bring me back to life faster than a big bag of Marvel cash. Ha- I hear you, Hugh. But no, no, no, no you had to go and get all noble and die for real. I could really use your help right now. And a massage. Your big manly hands just rubbing all over me-'

Just as you were about to go into further detail about what you want him to do to you, the sound of portals opening and heavy boots stomping closer alerted you.

Quickly, you pulled the skeleton down on top of you.

'There are two hundred and six bones in the body. Two hundred and seven if i'm watching Van Helsing.'

Que the fucking montage.

You have a mission. Find a Logan to take back with you. First up you end up in a bar, catching an axe as it was thrown at you. 'Logan! I'm gonna need you to come with me.'

The Logan sitting at the bar slowly turned to you. 'Who's asking? ' He slipped from the bar stool to reveal a 5'3 Logan.

You coo. 'Well, who's this little ankle biter. Did you stick the landing little guy? Yes you did, comic-accurate short king. Such a cute little Wolvie.'

The little guy started stalking toward you.

'Que the fucking montage.'

You found a Wolverine for the seventies, or eighties, something close enough to that, one hand missing. 'Oh yea, sexy, you have anchor being written all over you.'

You found patch Logan. 'Oh hello, Patch. Should've worn my white suit.'

You found another old man Logan, sitting solemnly on his front porch. 'Howdy! Oh, I see, you're the daddy issues one. Good to see god has answered my prayers. So soldier, do I need to be a bad girl so you put me over your knee, daddy?'

Another was tied to a cross with red bloody skulls acting as a floor.

One was dressed in a tight yellow and brown suit, walking through the woods. 'Hubba hubba. Classic! Now, you fought the Hulk in this suit, right?' as he snicked his claws out, the green of the beast reflected from behind you. 'I am Marvel Jesus you dull creature and I will not be-'

One, your favourite, was working on a bike in a tight white vest and dark pants. You drooled. 'That's the whole goddamn package right there. You know from behind you look a bit- holy Shit!' he turned, and everything about him was Wolverine. Except for the fact he was Henry fucking Cavil. 'The Cavalry has arrived. The prophecy has been fulfilled. Can I say, sir, sorry, daddy- on behalf of all of humanity, this just feels right! We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street!'

He took the cigar from his mouth, stalking to you. You had never been so aroused in your life. 'You were just leaving'

Giggling and twirling your hair, you hold a hand out, ghosting over his chest. 'Can I just, one- one touch. Oh my god! You're like Superman or something.'

He punched you right into the Logan you needed. Thank you Cavil.

'You two gonna fuck or fight?' asked the bartender. 'Both if i'm lucky,' you said.'

'Oh look at those sexy little jammies, that only took twenty fucking years!'

The trash heap was the last place you wanted to end up, but when you woke to Logan looming over you, a snarl on his face, you sighed in relief.

'Well, hello sexiest man alive, 2008. Wanna give me a hand? Or head?'

He sniked his claws out.

'Kinky! That's new for Disney!'

He dug his claws into your ribs and dragged you up with them. 'Where the fuck are we?'

'I dunno, but it looks a bit mad maxxy to me. But that would be IP infringement right?'

'Fucking jokes,' Logan uttered. He threw you over his leg, your back breaking.

'Till my back breaks, Wolvie!' you yelled out, quickly rolling yourself back up and shaking it off. 'Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I'm a big fan. How about we strip off our suits, take a tumble in the sand, get to know one another you know. Personally, I'm more of a cowgirl fan but I'm willing to do whatever you want baby.'

'You're unbelievable,' he grumbled. It was still sexy. He turned his back to you.

'Oh, I see, is that what you did when your world went to shit!'

He paused, his head slowly turning to you. 'Say again, bub?'

'Oh, I am so horny right now.'

The two of you engaged in a fight, and not the sexy stradling fight that would happen later, but the guns firing, swords slashing kind of fight. that was only interrupted by a familiar voice.

The only other voice that could have you dropping your panties as quick as Wolverine. He was hooded, hidden, but you knew him from your sex dreams.

'Dear god almighty, it's him.'

'Who?' growled Logan.

'Don't be jealous baby, I have two holes for a reason. Don't worry gorgeous, you're gonna encounter some delicate language, a smidge of ass play but we've been prohibited from using cocaine, at least on page.'

He raised a hand. 'They're coming.'

'Who's they?'

The three of you watch cars and trucks drive through the waste, keeping you trapped. There were familiar faces, Pyro, Toad. And Sabertooth.

The mysterious figure jumped down and mastered the superhero landing that had you clapping your hands and jumping up and down.

'Oh my god! Oh my god!' you held onto Logan's shoulder as you jumped while he just glared at you.

'I've got this,' the man takes down his hood, showing the beautiful, hot, strong, handsome, hubba-hubba worthy, Chris Evans.

'Oh yes, you do sexiest man alive, 2022!' you cheer.

'Stay close,' Chris- or Steve- called back to you.

You stalk over to him. 'Aye aye, Captain.' you wrap your arms around his stomach, fingers trailing over his abs. He removes you and you groan, sulking. You walk back to Wolverine and jump onto the side of his hip.

Instinctively he holds your ass which makes you giddy before he realises his mistake and drops you.

'You're not gonna love what happens next,' shouted the captain.

Your jaw dropped from behind the mask. 'Holy shit, omg! No way, he's gonna say it! He's gonna say it!' you flick one of your swords that was still poking out of Wolverine's chest. 'Avengers-'

'Flame on!' Steve- no, Johnny- yelled and took to the skies in a ball of fire.

It was sort of stupid in hind sight as Pyro lifted a hand and extinguished him, causing him to fall from the skies and go crotch first into a billboard.

'No!' you screamed, rushing to him and rolling onto his back to get a look at him. 'No, no baby, stay with me. Let me take a look!' you tried to pull down his pants but Logan literally pulled you off him.

You were tied up with Wolverine on the front side of you and Johnny on the back. When you woke, you giggled. 'Woah, just like my dreams.'

Johnny woke to, lifting his head from your shoulder. 'How long was I out?'

You smirk under the mask, looking back to him. 'Not all of you was asleep, say Cap, is that a Glock in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

'Is that Chuck? Hey Chuck, over here! Hope it's you young, god, we got James Macovy in this?' you yelled as a wheelchair rolled out as you entered the thing that was apparently large Paul Rudd.

'Cassandra Nova. Charles's twin,' the villain introduced herself.

'Holy shit,' said Logan.

'How was anal birth?' you asked.

Cassandra smirked. 'You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this.'

'Right!' you cheered. 'Just wait till this ends, the smut is off the charts!'

She took the chain from around the two of you but you wrapped yourself around Logan's arm, he only grunted at you. He only pushed you off when you started to go off and off about what Johnny said about Cassandra. 'People think i'm a shit talker but this guy-' you chef's kiss. 'Next level!'

Cassandra, with a flick of her hand, shed the skin from him as he fell in a heap of bones and blood and skin,

You cried out, holding onto Logan for dear life. 'My favourite Chris!'

'You silly little bitch, you just got him fucking killed!' yelled Logan.

'Fine, spank me then! P.S. Do you know what he was doing to the budget!'

You were brought to Ultimatum with Cassadra, Oliath or the other British villain, but all you wanted was to save your world, bang Wolvy and go home.

'I didn't want it to come to this, either you help us or my boyfriend here is gonna perform the whole of Greatest Showman as a one-man show,' you warn.

'I'm not her boyfriend,' Logan grumbled.

Cassandra went on a trauma dump that had you groaning. 'Couldn't you just turn into accomplishment like the rest of us?'

But I'm not like the rest of you, except maybe the Wolverine, now we could be truly terrifying together.'

'Sorry lady, he's taken!'

'Not for long,' Cassandra smirked and as Logan attacked, she sent him in the ground and away from you. You only whined at his disappearance, a whine that turned into a groan when Cassandra's fingers entered you in the worst way possible. Through your head.

'What can I see here?' she asked. Cassandra gasped. 'Oh, you are a whore.'

Oh yes, she saw the million filthy things you wanted to do to Logan.

The two of you made it out and to the diner where Logan was intent on finding food and taking rubbing alcohol shots. When he sat across from you, chucking a tin of spam at you, you pulled of your mask.

Logan stilled, looking at you with finally something a little different than anger.

'What?' you asked.

'I thought you'd be ugly under there.'

'No- no, that's the Deadpool. I'm better, and a self-insert.'

The two of you took to walking through the rather nicer side of the waste. You had his hand in yours, swinging it happily like you were a couple before he threatened to chop your hand off.

'You said Logan was a hero, what happened?' he asked.

'You died. Technically you were chest fucked by a tree, but really you just ran out of batteries trying to save this girl- a kid really. Always wanted a man who's good with kids. The shit heels who grew her in a lab called her x-23, but she was just a kid. A smaller, cute and mean version of you. Yep, you saved her, very hero, very demure.'

The two of you were interrupted when a bark sounded over the hill and the BEST DOG EVER ran out to you, ears flapping in the wind, tongue out as it always was. The little boots. The collar. It was Dogpool.

You threw off your mask and picked her up, cuddling her close. 'She's coming with us.'

'No she's not!' he argued.

'Yes, she is!'

'No!'

You pulled out your puppy dog eyes and lifted the dog to your face and slowly the resolve in his face slipped.

'Sorry!' another man ran out, chasing after the dog.

'Fucking shit bag!' you cursed.

It was another dead pool, a good-looking one with long hair.

'What's Ryan Reynolds actually doing here, I thought I replaced him?' you said.

'In here everyone calls me Nicepool.'

'Can we have your dog?' you asked immediately.

He laughed. 'over my dead body!'

You nod, thinking about it but Logan holds out his arm before you can even move.

Whatever Nicepool was saying was you didn't care as you cooed and hugged the dog closer and Logan watched.

Fuck, he was paying attention to you.

'Why are you so nice?' you asked eventually.

'It costs nothing to be kind,' he said.

'Shutting the fuck up is also free,' said Logan.

You bite your lip in his direction. 'God I am so attracted to you right now. This is Logan, he's usually shirtless but he's let himself go since the divorce.'

Finally, the Nicepool took you to his ride to get you and Logan and the dog to the borderlands.

It was a honda fucking odyssey.

Logan wasn't willing to listen to your complaints. 'Get in the fucking car.'

'Make me, Daddy,' you said.

He took one step closer to you and you backed away with the dog. 'No, we're running away!'

Logan forced her from your arms and handed him back to the Nicepool.

'The corn was to dense girl!' you called after her, pouting.

Logan shoves you into the passenger seat while he takes the wheel.

You pull of your mask, hair falling around you like you were in an advert. 'So, what shall we do to pass the time...'

Honda Odyssey coming soon, that my friends, is called edging.

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[krypticcafe]

Can please get fic where young reader almost gets r-word.. like! What happened to ellie on 'the last of us' like make it into that situation, reader kills the rapist and flees away and runs into the 141 team, and their like in this state of like panic, but they calm them down and they explain what happened they are beyond livid so they just reck hell on the people who was with the man who tried to r-word reader.

(this a platonic relationship between reader and the team)

Me and the Devil

rating: mature

pairing(s): platonic 141 x gn!reader

warning(s): no use of y/n, dead dove do not eat, non-explicit attempted r*pe, emotional and physical trauma, sexual physical and mental violence, canon-typical graphic violence, comfort

wordcount: ~3.8k

a/n: i'm not exactly sure what anon meant by young, but for context, reader is probably 20-22, I'm just not comfortable writing this kinda stuff for teen or child reader, I hope you don't mind. also, huge, HUGE emphasis on the warnings. though nothing is explicit and there are no sexual graphic terms, the descriptions and actions alone are still very disturbing and uncomfortable! and the violence is a little uncomfy for those not used to it, too. title is from 'Me and the Devil' - Soap&Skin

synopsis: You can see it. The devil. It laughs, and laughs, and laughs, mocks you for your childish stupidity and naivete. To think the angels would come marching in, that you'd make it out with any semblance of sanity. You can't fight it, you can't even hide from it. All you can do is lie in your grave.

Just hours ago, you were alongside the 141, cleaning up and wiping out an enemy base, a typical Tuesday on a summer afternoon. You should've known things would go downhill with how smoothly it was all going. Even Price commented on it with an air of wariness and suspicion. After all, it was a saying that if the fight starts getting too easy, then it's an ambush. And an ambush it was. You want to tell yourself that it was nothing, easy as pie compared to what you've been through. You wanted to say that it was a success and you turned the tables on your enemies. You wanted to say that it ended within a matter of minutes and that you were on your way back to base with your boys, ready for a night of banter at the pub. You'd join Ghost in watching Soap and Gaz try their hand at poker, taking a shot each time Soap's dogshit luck lost him another couple of euros while Price would pry Roach from having another cocktail and piss himself ('it was one time!' he slurs).

But instead, you're here. Locked in a room, bag over your head, tied to a chair, a stereotypical hostage situation but that didn't make it any less tolerable. Though having a potato sack over your head was nowhere near as embarrassing as the reason why you were captured. You tried your best to hold onto the jeep, honestly, you did. Until some ankle-biter decided to latch onto you and sink his teeth into your flesh, causing your grip to loosen and send you tumbling into the dirt. Your bodies slammed into the ground, kicking up dust and your opponent taking most of the fall damage for you. How thoughtful.

Seething at the audacity he had to chomp on your leg like some feral mutt, you gave him a piece of your mind and made sure he'd never bite another ankle again. His friends caught up the moment you were done. They dragged you back down to the coarse dirt and sand of the earth, making you taste and choke on dust. You looked at the lifeless figure in the sand, briefly wondering if you'd be wishing you were him before a bag was slipped over your head and tied like a collar. It didn't help that the sand on the roof of your mouth combined with your ineffective attempts to ration your breathing made for a burn worse than any hard liquor down your throat. Thrashing and shouting like a madman, you cursed them like some teenager who discovered swearing as they tossed you into the back of a truck, rolling you forth with the heels of their boots. Not your finest moment.

Once you were loaded and the rest of them climbed on, the truck shot forward without slowing down for a second, taking you to your own personal hell for the next few days. Knowing the 141, they were probably at the safehouse, planning their next move to retrieve you. In the time between interrogations and routine attempts to break you, you could imagine Soap and Roach pacing around the room, Ghost brandishing a knife with a dark look in his eyes, and Price looming over a map and pulling up contacts with Gaz at his side. While you hated to burden them with your own mistakes, thinking about them all gnawing their teeth in comical anger at your expense brought you momentary comfort, eliciting a small chuckle.

"Something funny?" Much to your ire, all your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of several people shuffling into the room. You could only expect so much privacy in a place like this. The man who spoke up seemed to carry himself like a leader, considering how he spoke above all others and you could hear him carrying out demands every now and then, checking up on you as if he actually gave a shit. And currently, he was on the top of your "to kill" list, along with every other cunt in this prison.

"What'll it be today, more screaming or more silence? You know, you can only stay quiet for so long." He sighed. Judging by the sound of metal screeching on concrete, he pulled up a front-row seat. With a single yank, you were again temporarily freed of the confines of the bag on your face, glaring at the man with a look of ferocity that seemed as if it were etched on your face permanently. His clothes were disturbingly clean-cut and polished despite the blood he spilled for the past few days. Your blood he spilled. "Come now... you know you'll only make things more difficult. Face it, kid, they're not coming, it's been days."

When you felt gloved fingers touch your jaw you snapped, pulling away like an animal restrained by a leash. Your captor let out a taunting "Oooh", and your skin crawled at how he heckled and laughed like some adolescent boy poking a rabid animal with a stick through its cage. "So it bites."

"Fuck you." You rasped.

"And it talks." The humiliation of their nonchalant attitudes made you seethe, you knew it was a tactic to get under your skin and you just wouldn't have it, turning your head away from the men.

"Uh-uh, eyes on me. How is such a fresh thing like you out fighting wars with men like them?" He hummed, gripping your jaw with a strength that took you by surprise and had you wincing. Even though his hands were gloved, it felt as if he were trying to dig into your skin. With no other choice, you were forced to look into his eyes, the pyres of unimaginable anger burning in yours.

However, it was then that you felt it. Something was off. Something was horribly off about him. The several times he'd come in here to either coax you with gentle words or have his men beat you within an inch of your life, he either had some faux kindness or gleeful malice painted across his face. But this time, his eyes were alight with slimy delight. You hated it, Hated how it made you feel small, cornered, pulling on your leash so that you couldn't be yanked from the one place that made you feel safe. You hated how it didn't feel like he was trying to get under your skin, or sink into your bones but instead your mind as if to violate it. You hated how it seemed like he had something more in mind, something that you couldn't predict like a kick to the ribs or a carefully worded reassurance that you'd be in "good hands". It was the one thing you felt like you had control over, knowing what was next, and now you didn't.

With a wave of his hand, his men all filed out of the room, leaving just him and you alone. One came back with a bowl in their hands and you felt yourself doubt your worries. Were you already beginning to lose it in here? "Hungry?" He smiled, taking the bowl and dismissing the soldier. It looked and smelled like a stew, potatoes, and beef, not scraps of stale bread or lukewarm, half-empty beer cans.

"I asked them to make something special today for you, isn't that nice? I suppose even someone like you has a taste for the finer things in life and wouldn't say yes to leftovers." No answer came but it was to be expected as he mixed the stew with a spoon. Your eyes were trained on his face instead, expecting some kind of strings attached. He entertained that expectation by—to your disgust—spitting into the stew, mixing it more, and bringing up a spoonful to your face. "Consider that the cost of being so picky. Open wide, soldier. Surely you won't make a fuss again, now will you?"

There was a pause, you leaned forward, lips ghosting the tip of the spoon before you roughly shoved his chair away from you with your boot. The bowl fell from his hands onto the ground, pooling between the two of you. He could go to hell with his stupid fucking soup.

He let out a scowl of disapproval, his self-satisfied smirk replaced with disgust and irritation like a parent to their troublemaking child. Fine with you, you didn't need that asshole's approval. He stood, grabbing a handkerchief from his breast pocket and wiping his hands and the small splatters on his uniform. "Should've known better that the government's pets would act like such animals. I gave you a chance, I tried to make this easy for you." He snarled, tossing his handkerchief aside and grabbing you by the collar, "But no, you just had to be a fucking brat, huh? Fine, be one. I can work with that. Either way, you'll be put in your place soon enough."

Before you could comprehend what he was implying, he slashed the ropes that binded you to your chair with a combat knife and shoved you to the floor, your head throbbing as it hit concrete, along with the rest of your aching muscles. Vision blurred, you sat up and tried to make out what he was doing, falling back when he roughly grabbed your hair and shoved your head back down into the ground. Like an alarm, every single flight or fight response went off in your body and yet you couldn't figure out what he was trying, you just knew that this was something worse and that you were a fool to let your guard down for a single second.

A twisted smile broke across his lips, "You know, you have a very lovely voice. You sing the loveliest songs."

Your brows furrowed, confusion flashing across your face until you let out a yelp of pain when he pressed into your stomach, already bruised from previous matters. He let out a sigh that made you shudder and you felt bile creep up your throat, moving your face to the side in fear that you'd choke on it.

"Eyes. On. Me." He snapped, his voice sounding so much louder than it actually was, his hand twisting your jaw back to look up at him while his fingers proceeded to dig themselves into whatever spots got you hissing and squirming away. That's all it took for your resolve to break, the blaze in your eyes fizzling out and replace with genuine fear and utter shock as you watched him straddle you and stare with a piercing gaze that trapped you. It forced your attention to stay on him, daring you to look anywhere else but him when that was all you could focus on. Him.

You couldn't even scream, paralyzed when you heard the sound of metal clinking against metal and the brushing of fabric, raw horror setting itself alight in your bones at how he loomed over you. At that moment, you swore you could see the devil itself laughing, cackling, mocking you in his eyes.

It was like you were seven again.

Scared, cornered in your room because you swore, you swore and sobbed and cried that you saw it, a monster in your closet. A dark, shadowy figure that'd taunt you merely with its existence and prayed on your downfall, drinking the fat tears you spilled and listening to your high-pitched cries as if they were music, eyes that you couldn't see but they could see you.

Others tried to convince you that it wasn't real, opened the doors, and closed them again, showing that there was nothing but cleanly folded clothes and hung-up jackets lined neatly along a rack. Every time, you'd feel a little more silly about your fears but anxious that they'd come back for more.

At some point, you nearly forgot about the monster altogether. It ceased to exist in your closet, but never your mind.

"Damn it, what now?!"

Pulled back into the present, you heard muffled speech with loud, obtrusive noises and more screaming and cursing from the man above you. He was faced with the still-closed door, talking to a soldier behind it. Instead of trying to catch up with what happened, your mind raced to its defensive instincts. Finding the spoon dropped from earlier, you reached for it with a strained grunt which caught his attention. Yet with a swift grab and thrust of your hand, you jammed the blunt handle of the spoon into his throat and screamed at him, your vocal cords ripping in deliriously satisfying pain.

Barely giving him a second to let out a final gasp for air, you flipped him over underneath you and yanked the spoon out, blood erupting out of the gash. Fire ignited in your veins and you balled your fists, giving him a taste of the rage of a caged beast with nothing left to lose, just the desperation to survive for more. It was a symphony of grotesque crunches of bone and ligament, and you yelled, screamed, and cursed with each impact at him, at the entire organization, at a godless world for making you live through hell. A pitiful yet gruesomely satisfying attempt to reclaim what sanity and control you lost in that room.

Blood and flesh coated your fingers like warm syrup, and you were sure your knuckles were split. Crimson red was a good look on a sterile uniform, you thought to yourself. The sight of your work made you realize it wasn't the devil in his eyes was laughing at you, but rather its reflection from over your shoulder, still gleefully singing and squealing with delight as it watched you indulge in pure, unadulterated wrath. Its tail wrapped around your neck, strangling you with delirium and bloodthirst, guiding you in your ear as you beat an already dead man to a pulp.

Taking a stand, its whispers remained in your ear, praising you and yet you felt sick looking at what was left of what you had done, of what was left of the man's face. His blood pooled around his shoulders, mixing with the stew into an unholy concoction, evidence that was a testimony to your suffering and to your sin. Using his combat knife, you cut through the ropes around your wrists, skin scratched raw and bleeding. Without a second glance, you took his gun and left the room.

To this day, you tell yourself that you crawled out of hell that day.

"Any signs of the hostage?" Gaz shouted over comms, holding off a room of enemies alongside Price.

The moment they had all seen your fingers slip from the jeep and saw you tumble away that afternoon was the moment they knew they wouldn't be coming back to base for a long time. Roach had watched in despair as he was so damn close to grabbing your hand, swearing that had he'd been a little quicker, you wouldn't be here. Soap had yelled for Price to go back but Gaz and Ghost both knew his hand wasn't going to turn that wheel anytime soon. All of them knew. They couldn't turn back, and you wouldn't have wanted them to either, not unless the entire team and mission were to be jeopardized. However, that didn't stop them from doing whatever it takes to get you back safe again.

"Negative." Ghost answered over the line, standing with Soap in a hallway painted with the blood of the opposition, bodies scattered like lifeless bags of flesh with no greater purpose than to rot.

"I have eyes on them, they escaped from captivity. Currently pursuing them!" Roach responded. He'd seen your figure run down a hall at an alarming speed, and when he followed you, he had a glimpse of the room and the spectacle you left behind, "The leader is terminated, too. Jesus, can someone get over here?! They're gunning it for the west exit and I can barely keep up!"

You were in fact, bolting for the exits, panicking the more you got lost and running so fast that you probably could've broken a record on base. Distant gunfire and blasts snapped at your heels like a pack of dogs, reminding you that if you didn't keep running, you'd be dead, you'd be torn apart and beaten just like their leader and fed to the wolves. Boots trampled the ground behind you like drums of death, the yelling of men ringing in your ears, a requiem to the inevitable. Run, just run, it's all you could do in this frenzied state. If you didn't you'd be helpless, you'd be put down like a rabid fucking animal. Run, even if your bones shook from the pain, even if flames licked at your torn muscles, even if it meant dying of exhaustion because anything was better than dying at the hands of those animals.

At last, you found the light of an exit, finally an escape from this asylum. Your heart felt lighter when sunlight kissed your skin only to be weighed down by getting slammed into, grabbed into a relentless hold. You screeched, shrieked, snapped, and sneered while the voices seemed relieved, almost happy at your capture.

"Don't fucking touch me-!" You screamed with animosity, practically frothing at the mouth, "Don't fucking touch me I'll fucking kill you! I'll fucking—"

"Friendly, friendly!"

Still growling under your breath, confusion flickered over your eyes. Why did it sound like... like...

"Captain?"

"You're safe kid," Price panted, as if he'd been running to chase you. He was chasing you. In all your hysteria, you hadn't realized that the group had been running after you for past minute or so, trying to call for you, get you to slow down. The only thing that worked was to just grab to and hopefully knock some sense into you or knock you out. "It's just us, see?"

Your gaze softened, taking in the features of the man before you. Despite the crossfire and fighting, somehow he still had such a kind look on him, puppy eyes that pitied you and kept you grounded. Turning your head, you saw the rest of the men watching you in concern, all tired but overjoyed nonetheless that you were finally back.

You were safe.

It was like a weight finally lifted off your chest, a pile of restrained misery and relief washing over you, and you wept without a thought to pride. Price whispered your name in a way that felt so comfortingly familiar, tucking your head into his shoulder and letting you muffle your sobs into his uniform. It was painful to hear your wails, the relief and the instability shaking off of you in waves. A part of you expected to be scolded, to be teased for messing up so badly with a simple mistake as letting go of the jeep but they didn't.

"You're in good hands,"

"We've got them covered,"

"They can't hurt you anymore, love."

"Do you have any major injuries?" Gaz asked, but you couldn't say a thing, clinging onto Price's jacket and crying like you were four years old and found by your parents after getting lost. Slowly and gently, Price pulled you from him to examine you, and that's when he saw it. It didn't take long for the others to notice as well. Your clothes were torn and belt undone. While no physical harm was visible, knowing what happened was enough to make Price tick.

"Roach, get them to the car and give them some spares ASAP. Everyone else with me, we're cleaning out the place." Everyone else had the same dark look in their eyes, one that sent shivers down your spine but encouraged you once more you were secure now. While Roach escorted you away, you peeked back to see them disappear back into the building. After you changed in the car, you could hear the distant gunfire and screams, shutting your eyes closed tight, making an effort to drown out the thoughts.

"You okay?" Roach frowned. he had apologized to you a dozen times over on your way to the car and explained all that happened after you were taken, which you appreciated him for and insisted it wasn't his fault. But he was sweet and stubborn, bandaging your wounds and telling you he'd make it up by giving you his dessert for the next month, a gesture that made you smile for once in a while.

"Yeah, yeah just... hope they're safe." You breathed, sinking into your seat with the rest of your thoughts. Though you cried once more, quietly this time and on Roach's shoulder. He was cautious not to initiate too much physical contact, holding your hand only when you asked for it.

The building was silent, not a single soul left to be reaped by the 141. They all regrouped around a body that was beaten beyond belief, to the point where the face was unrecognizable. Regardless, they knew who it was.

Gaz broke the silence, "You think they did this?" They all looked at each other, not wanting to imagine what happened to lead to this point.

Ghost nodded, a confirmation of something they already knew but wanted to mutually agree on. "No one else could've made this much of a bloody mess. HQ's going to have a field day with this. Can't say that he didn't have it coming for him, though."

"And well deserved, too." Soap spat. Price continued to look down on the figure on the floor without any thought to it. Not anger, disappointment, or spite, just disregard. Headquarters would be interested to hear what happened, but he could care less about the report. All that mattered was that loose ends were tied.

Minutes later, the men all piled up in the car again, setting for the road back. You woke from your half-asleep state, rubbing your eyes. You were met with a soft smile from Soap, who ruffled your hair. "You alright there, sleepin' beauty?"

Humming in acknowledgment, you nodded and glanced out the window to see the road whizzing by, the building growing smaller and smaller in the distance. Some dingy warehouse. So that was the hellhole you were stuck in for a near week.

"Dinnae think 'bout it too much," He followed your gaze and nudged your boot with his, "When we said they can't hurt ye anymore, we meant it."

"Yeah," You quietly mumbled, leaning back on Roach, who had fallen asleep and leaned on Gaz for support. "Can smell it on you guys."

That got a rumbling laugh out of Soap and even a little headshake from Ghost who sat in the passenger seat. Looking at the rearview mirror, Price was looking right back at you, eyes flickering to the road occasionally, "Get some rest. It'll be a long ride home."

You nodded like a little kid with a mumbled "yessir" and drifted off once more. For the first time in forever, you feel like you can breathe and ground yourself, no punishment, no torture, nothing to haunt in this rare bit of calm. You didn't feel the pain of your sore muscles, you didn't feel that your body was filthy, you didn't feel small and scared, not anymore. Just surrounded by nothing but a familiar feeling of safety and lulled to sleep by the sound of the engine that took you home.

a/n pt.2: had a tough time writing this one but hey, I think I managed! to be honest, though, I'm not super confident about the ending and proofread this while half-asleep, but I'd love to hear some thoughts about it. shoutout to the people who noticed any reoccurring themes.

[apollowhoo]

could you pleasee do a gravity falls one shot?

so basically Bill Cipher meets the youngest Pines member but they're like 3-4 years old. And basically Bill doesn't know how to react, he's all confused but also in awe. Make it fluff and i know it's going to be hard to write this as canon Bill Cipher so you can ignore if you want <33

Bill Cipher x Child!Reader (PLATONIC)

The forest surroundcing the Mystery Shack was quiet. Somewhere between dimensions, floating lazily, was Bill Cipher, his single eye half-lidded with boredom. His typical schemes to cause chaos were on hold, and for once, he was simply… existing.

That’s when he heard it—a soft giggle, light as a feather. Bill’s eye snapped open, immediately. There, standing among the wildflowers, was a small figure with messy hair, chubby cheeks, and a bright, curious gaze.

The youngest member of the Pines family.

His eye narrows slightly. A little kid, no older than three or four, was staring right up at him. Her tiny hands gripping a stuffed animal that seemed to be some kind of hybrid between a cat and a duck—perfectly nonsensical, just the way Bill liked things.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Bill floated closer, his voice carrying its usual sarcasm. “A little ankle-biter out all alone? Shouldn’t you be with your oh-so-boring family?”

The girl tilted her head, eyes wide and sparkling with the kind of innocence Bill found really weird. She didn't seemed scared. She suddenly reaches out, poking Bill with a tiny finger in pure curiosity.

Bill’s eye widened a little in surprise. Most people who encountered him would either scream, run, or try to strike some ridiculous bargain. But this little human? She just poked him like he was some new toy.

“Hey, hey! Hands off the merchandise!” Bill exclaimed. He wondered, why wasn’t she afraid? Why wasn’t she running? And why, in all his chaotic glory, did he find this child so… interesting?

The child giggled again, a bubbly sound that seemed to echo in Bill’s mind. She pointed at him with her free hand, her other continuing to clutching her stuffed toy close.

“Triangle!” she declared proudly, their voice high-pitched and filled with wonder.

Bill let out a bark of laughter, genuinely amused. “Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? That’s right, kiddo. I’m a triangle, the best triangle you’ll ever meet. Got any other shapes in that little brain of yours?”

The kid smiled. They started babbling, half-formed words about god know what, pointing excitedly as if expecting Bill to just understand them. The demon was used to others feeling fear, but this… this innocent curiosity was something else.

“Alright, kid, slow down,” Bill said. “You think I can just whip up stars and moons like a party trick? You’re talking to Bill Cipher, not some street magician.”

For the first time in… well, forever, Bill felt utterly out of his element. He could outsmart the smartest, scare the toughest, and twist anyone around his finger, but this kid? She just saw him entertainig.

Bill hovered beside them, his eye following them every move. He had cought a small, harmless ball of light, flickering in and out of existence.

“Yeah, yeah, enjoy it while it lasts, kid,” Bill mumbled, though there was no more venom in his voice.

The girl just grinned, leaning her head against his triangular form as if he were just another friend, not a demon with a penchant for chaos. Bill let her, floating there quietly as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

For once, he wasn’t planning anything. No schemes, no deals, no manipulation. Just a strange, peaceful moment with a little human who saw him not as a threat .

And for reasons Bill couldn’t quite fathom, he didn’t mind it one bit.

[wylldebee]

Song of Ice and Fire AU where the Starks have these prominent canine teeth that are as sharp as a direwolf's. Some say it's the magic within the Stark bloodline dating back to when the First Men and the Children of the Forest lived in peace. Others say it's a sign of their kinship with the direwolves that has carried over even when direwolves died out. There's even an old tale about the time a Stark warged into a direwolf and mated with a real one on a dare. Either way, the Starks have these sharp ass fangs that are dangerous and oddly alluring. Special teething toys have to been made to survive the little years. Rickard had the "normal" Stark fangs. Think Luke Evans but bigger. He almost bit a man's finger off for insulting him. His sons Brandon and Benjen inherited his fangs. Despite being a cousin one removed from the Stark line, Lyarra Stark had the biggest and sharpest fangs. She could tear into a steak or a man's throat easily. One flash of her fangs as she feasted on a bloody steak and Rickard was instantly smitten. Her son Eddard and daughter Lyanna inherited her fangs (though Ned's were smaller, easily hidden, which fit with his quiet image). Robb and Bran inheritated Rickard's fangs like their uncles Brandon and Benjen. Rickon has Rickard's size but Lyarra's sharpness. Jon's is like Ned's but bigger, somewhere in between Ned and Lyarra's sizes. Sansa and Arya take completely after their grandmother. Headcanons underneath the read more.

— Rickon bit everyone when he was teething. A literal ankle biter. Ned still has the scars. — When Lyanna was rescuing Howland Reed she also bit one of the squires. Howland can still perfectly remember the victorious bloody grin on her face, fangs tipped with blood. — Robb and Jon used to practice snarling at each other when they were small. — Catelyn is into it. Like...into it. First Brandon then Ned. She's weak for the moments where Ned smiles wide enough he accidentally flashes his fangs. In their chambers in private she'll cup both sides of his face and trace his fangs with her thumbs and then it leads to sexy times and thus the Stark kids were born. — The Stark kids taught their direwolves how to snarl. — Instead of Nymeria biting Joffrey it's Arya. Nymeria just distracted him with her arrival. No direwolves die, not when Arya's fangs and lips are coated with blood and Joffrey bares the marks. Renly has to be carried out, laughing so hard he's wheezing. — Sansa kept her fangs filed to be more like a proper southern lady. It was painful but worth it (in her eyes). Come her time in King's Landing, she lets them get long and sharp again. Margaery is instantly in love (and highly aroused). (No seriously Margaery is literally shimmering in arousal all day every day. All Sansa has to do is flash her fangs and Marg is soaked.)

[liillyliilly]

take me home, please? sugawara koushi x reader content; helping out a co-worker when he had a headache really makes you feel like his mom sometimes- aka pure fluff words: 1120

Just how did you end up in these situations? Likely due to who you chose to be friends with.

So as you stood in front of Sugawara’s third grade class, talking about the school library, you couldn’t help but notice the shit-eating grin Koushi had on his face. The exact same face from high school. He had a raised eyebrow, and was jutting out his bottom a little in amusement at your dialogue.

You clasp your hands together, “Does anyone have any questions.”

In the back, Sugawara raises his hand while sitting at his teacher’s desk. You rephrase your statement, “Which of you students has a question about our school library?”

The bug-eyed seven and eight year olds looked at each other for a moment, then just blankly stared back at you.

You slowly nod, embracing the awkwardness. As the librarian at Ohya Elementary School, you weren’t really ever in charge of teaching lessons, you just talked to students about books when they would come for library time during the week. But Sugawara, your high school friend, now co-worker, had asked- no, practically begged- you to come and teach his students about all it takes to be a librarian.

Sugawara stood up, clapping his hands three times and his students copied the motion.

“Alrighty, Rose class, we’re on lunch duty today, go wash up. Make sure to thank our lovely librarian for teaching us a little bit about her job.”

The littles ran up to you, forming a single file line. One would bow, before rushing out the classroom to wash up. You kept repeating small slight bows with just your head. After 20 nods of your head, you felt a little dizzy, but could manage.

“Koushi, if you surprise me with having to talk to your students again, I won’t hesitate to complain to the administration. You’re the teacher, you’re the one who's supposed to teach.” You sit down on one of the little desks, your feet comfortably reaching the floor due to the lack of height to the small table.

Sugawara tucks his hands into his pockets, shrugging. He sits down next to you, on a separate desk, stretching his legs out across the rainbow carpet below your feet.

“I like it when you teach though, your eyes get that mix of fear and excitement.” He chuckles.

“Because your kids are freaking scary!” You whisper-yell, throwing a hand up in exasperation. “Ever seen a seven year old not act like an ankle biter? I don’t think so.”

You shiver a little, thinking about the grubby fingers. But all the students made up for the childish grossness they carried when they would hold a book up to you so you could check it out for them. The way they’d say thank you for helping them find a good book to read, or even when they’d ask to hold your hand when walking into the far back corner of your library. Those were the moments that made your job worth it in the end.

“Still, thank you for teaching a lesson. My headache is still pounding.” Sugawara holds a hand up to his temple, rubbing it in circles.

Even though it had been a shock when Sugawara poked his head into your office a few hours ago, you accepted his request fairly quickly. Because you could see the clenched jaw and squinted eyes he had in reaction to the brightness in your office.

“Mrs. Ito is going to take your class for their lunch duties yeah?” You ask, standing up from the table. Sugawara had asked the fellow third grade teacher to watch his kids for the rest of the day so he could go home to rest up. Mrs. Ito was a very no-nonsense woman, she would run his class like the army, but hopefully tomorrow Sugawara would be able to have an easier day.

You lean forward in front of Sugawara, place a hand on his forehead, and it burns. “Koushi, you’re running a fever!”

You keep your hand on his forehead, using your other hand to cup the back of his neck to tilt his face up to you a little. Then his neck starts to heat up under your fingers.

“Your neck is boiling, are you having a heat flash?” You lean closer.

Sugawara chokes on his saliva slightly, trying to put some space between his face and yours. The smell of your floral perfume, the soft touch of your hands, the criminally adorable nametag you had on your white cardigan, not to mention the baby blue dress you had on. It was all too overwhelming for him.

Clearly the blush was misinterpreted by you, which gave Sugawara some leeway. He put his hands on your hips and stood up, twisting you around so your calves hit the back of the small desk.

“I just need to get home, I think.” Sugawara loosens his hold on you, but keeps his hands hovering around you. Until you shake your head in understanding and slide out from between him and the desk.

“Are you good to drive home?” You grab your purse from the coat hook near the entrance of the class and pull it over your shoulder.

Sugawara sighs a little, putting on his best act to win over your pity. “I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

You frown, sad for Sugawara. He continues putting on his best portrayal of sickness- even though his headache was only a mild migrane and not one that required a trip to the hospital.

He pushes a little further into your friendship with him when he asks, "Take me home, please?"

It had become habit for him now, to request little things from you. He hoped that somewhere along the way, that his requests would endear you to him. Making you like him more and more, even if it was just out of friendly obligation sometimes.

“Ah, well, I can drive you then. Let’s go.” You always found yourself taking care of Sugawara one way or another, and this was just one of the ways you expressed your friendship and kindness for him.

Sugawara follows you to your car like a puppy.

Mrs. Ito has Rose class scooping up rice and putting it onto their peers plates. When she pauses to have the kids swap jobs, she gets a glimpse of you opening the car door for Sugawara through the window. Your head was down and focused on unlocking the vehicle.

Sugawara had his head in his hand, looking at you lovingly as he leaned against your car. Mrs. Ito almost, but didn’t, smile at the way her fellow third grade teacher was acting so twitterpated for the school librarian.

[drmaddict]

Ankle Biter

Summary: The boys get to know (Y/n's) dog. He's not quite like the military dogs they know.

Characters: Ghost, Soap, Rudy, König

Wordcount: 786

Ghost

"What's that?"

"My dog. Pumpkin."

Simon looked irritated at the sceptically blinking dog in front of him.

"That's not a dog.", he said bluntly.

(Y/n) crossed her arms. "Really?"

Simon continued to look at the Chihuahua in front of him. "It'll break if you just look at it."

(Y/n) rolled her eyes.

Simon put his hands on his hips.

"I mean... If anything, I'm surrounded by shepherds... Not... Not by anything like that.", he tried to explain somehow, pointing at the ball of fur that was still scrutinising him insistently.

The doorbell rang, but Pumpkin didn't move an inch. Had Simon fully in his sights.

(Y/n) went to the door and greeted the postman, while her two men engaged in a staring contest.

Simon crossed his arms. Pumpkin stood up.

(Y/n) came back into the room. "Pumpkin come.", she ordered and the little dog followed without hesitation. Simon walked after her too.

"Why such a barker?"

"He doesn't bark. He's well behaved." She opened her parcel and pulled out a colourful, crinkly bag. Pumpkin's tail immediately wagged excitedly, but he stayed put.

(Y/n) took a mat from one of the drawers and sprinkled the contents of the bag into the fine grooves of the mat, placed it on the floor and leisurely tucked everything away in its place.

"And... Go.", she said with a grin. Pumpkin, who had been waiting excitedly, immediately jumped onto the mat and nibbled the treats out of the grooves.

Simon scrutinised the situation closely. "Don't grin like that. These are basic commands."

She just nodded with a grin. "Sure."

"Jump."

"What are you doing?"

Simon flinched, caught off guard. He quickly brought his arms back to his body and stood up. Pumpkin barked discontentedly. The little one was far from finished.

(Y/n) stood grinning in the doorway with her arms crossed and mocked him silently. Simon rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"Nothing," he blurted.

"Mhm.", she nodded. "Pumpkin seems to like 'nothing' though."

Simon looked at the dog wagging its tail excitedly. He sighed and knelt down again. "Crawl.", he pressed out and Pumpkin immediately crawled under his palm, which he held just above the ground.

He felt (Y/n's) hands stroking through his hair. Simon just let him.

Rudy

"And that's-"

"Woof! Woof! WOOF!"

A small ball of fur raced towards Rudy. He flinched out of reflex, quickly sat down on the kitchen stool and held his feet up.

"Nacho off!", (Y/n) ordered emphatically.

The little dog put some distance between himself and Rudy, but was still growling. Rudy looked at the hubris-infested ball of fur.

"Is this going to go on all the time?"

(Y/n) looked at him apologetically. "He's not so good with men.", she confessed.

Rudy carefully put one foot back on the ground. Nacho immediately jumped towards him.

"Hey, off! Off!" Rudy barked and held his foot up again.

"This is going to be a lot of work.", admitted (Y/n).

Soap

He leaned towards (Y/n) and pressed his lips playfully under her earlobe. Even before his lips touched her skin, he heard a growl. He let his eyes snap open and looked into Chef's eyes. The little Chihuahua looked at him menacingly. (Y/n) giggled.

Johnny approached (Y/n) once more and immediately Chef came closer. "Hey, we all want to cuddle with mummy. Come on make yourself- Ah!"

"What did you do to your brow?", asked Simon.

Johnny saw the images of the little Chihuahua in front of him, who had bitten his eyebrow like a pitbull. This creature had never liked him.

"... Dog attack."

Simon just nodded, then faltered. "Doesn't your girl have one of those ankle biters."

"It was another dog!", said Johnny far too quickly and left the room.

König

"Come on Buddy. That was an accident. I didn't see you."

The giant of a man crouched in front of the couch, looking puppy-eyed at the little dog in front of him, who stubbornly ignored him.

(Y/n) hadn't expected it, but Buddy had accepted Klaus immediately. The little Chihuahua loved being carried around by him and being bigger than the rest. Klaus was just insanely big. Unfortunately, he was also so big that he sometimes overlooked Buddy.Like today. He had been walking through the kitchen, still completely sleepy, and had unfortunately kicked Buddy. The little one wasn't hurt, but now thought that Klaus didn't like him any more.

(Y/n) watched the spectacle with a soft heart. The little dog almost whimpered in explanation. Klaus continued to stroke his fur. "I know. I'm sorry." Buddy hesitantly turned round and cuddled up to Klaus' chest. He immediately picked him up and hugged him.

(Y/n) smiled gently. "Can you guys stop being so damn cute?"

[cloudbug08]

Worth It

Logan (James) Howlett and agere!reader

A/N: All of my oneshots will be/are written with a fem reader in mind because I write my works self indulgently, however, if it’s requested I have no qualms writing the reader GN

Unless I’m writing a romantic work, there is so age in mind for the reader, however, romantic works will be written with an over 18 reader in mind （╹◡╹）

I’m being honest this made me quite emotional, the x men movies had a large impact on my life, especially the Logan and wolverine movies, they got me through a few dark spots. So I’m sorry if you get sad or cry, I did too, but it will get happier :)

I’m honestly really bad at characterising ironic characters like Wade, so forgive me if he’s a bit ooc

If you haven’t watched the Logan movie or the newest Deadpool movie this is my warning! Do not read any further if you don’t want spoilers! There are spoilers in this work!

TW/CW: references to Logan’s death, angst, grief, swearing, “Bad” Logan from the Deadpool 3 movie, fluff, obviously where Logan died in Wade and Readers universe, the Reader died in ‘bad’ Logan’s universe, if that makes sense

“Your eyes are just like his, but your face is a bit different”

You lay your bag on the ground, shifting to lie down on your side, you brush your fingers against the cold rocks piled up over Logan’s grave, tears glob over your eyelids, gasping in wet breaths.

Your body jolts at the realisation that you’ll never see him again, you’ll never watch cartoons with him again, never have his warm hand rub over your shoulder again.

You lay until your bones ache and your knees creak, waiting, hoping, that just maybe he’d dig his way out of the pit, alive and warm. A hand rests on your shoulder, you jump, turning, you’re face to face with a red mask

“Wade!”

You cry, pulling the man into a hug, you hear the puff of air leave his chest

“You little ankle biter, why are you here alone?”

You whimper, alone, that’s right, everyone’s gone, you expect him to crack a joke, but he doesn’t, he just stays, quiet, a rock for you.

You offer him a shaky smile when he jokes about how late it is, offering you a night at his apartment, you comply, quietly walking next to him, thankful to have a friend.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

A night at Wade’s apartment turns into 5 years at Wade’s apartment, although the man’s a little odd, he keeps you safe, fed and happy.

You’re sat on the carpet, kicking your socked feet, colouring in a picture of a cat, you look up at the sound of the door unlocking

“Wade!”

You wave at the man as he stumbles in, balancing a McDonald’s bag in one arm, holding his keys and a few knives in the other

“Hi bug”

You grin at the nickname, a little peculiar, but so was Wade, you zero in on the brown paper bag in his hand, eager and nosy

He drops it on the table and you feel your stomach grumble at the greasy, but oh so delicious smell

“Hungry?”

You nod, eyes big and puppy-like

“You eat anything today?”

You feel warm, cared for

“Apple slices! N some peanut butter”

He squints, clearly not all that impressed

“I’ll pack up a breakfast and lunch for you tomorrow, don’t want you touching any knives”

You frown under your pacifier, dejected, you suppose he wasn’t being unreasonable, you did nearly cut your hand with a small paring knife

“Sorry”

He slouches into the old couch, pulling your happy meal out of the bag, along with a cheeseburger, he passes you the box

“Don’t worry.”

You both dig in, hungry. Finish up, playing with the little toy that came with the happy meal, Wade leans down to grab your rubbish, after wiping a blob of ketchup off your lip, you smile up at the man.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

It had been a dreadful two days, Wade was gone, nowhere to be found, at first you wondered if it had anything to do with his birthday, maybe he just needed time away, but Wade had never left you alone this long since he took you in, you were panicking, feeling your adult state slowly slipping away.

You thumb at your stuffed animals ear, nervously waiting, praying that something hadn’t happened to the only person you had left.

You whip around, listening closely to the murmur of voices outside, Wade? And someone else, you couldn’t quite make out their voice.

You jump up when Wade unlocks the door, barrelling at him, you grip at his back, your tears soak into the spandex.

“Woah, what’s wrong”

You hiccup

“Thought you died”

Wade rubs a hand down your back, clearing his throat, only just realising what an impact his potential death would have had on you, considering how close he actually was to dying.

“Shit-“

You tap his shoulder, light, but a warning, he lets out a puff of air

“Sorry, bad word, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t do that again.”

You grumble, He nods, pulling away, he turns you away from him, so you’re looking at the hulking man stood next to him, you blink owlishly, frozen in place, his eyes widen as he takes you in, you gasp wetly, you scramble against him, your small cry’s turning into heaving sobs, his gloved hands rest on your back, he calls your name.

You peer up at him, your face flushed and streaked with tears, he lifts you up, his own tears soak into your shoulder

“Da?”

He hums, his throat scratchy

“I missed you”

His breath catches

“I missed you too honeybee”

You were glued to Logan for the evening, holding his hand and following him around like a lost puppy, trailing after him when he left to go change.

He picked you up, rocking you on his hip while a lullaby played on Wade’s tv. Pressing a kiss to your forehead when you drifted off.

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed, comments, requests and reblogs are very appreciated! ╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

[chaosandmarigolds]

right so I have a little rat dog, his name is duck and he’s a dachshund and he kinda just…hates people

so! Here’s how Simon Versus Johnny would deal with their SO’s demon dog

Simon! Who pretty much realized this dog would be the bane of his existence as soon as he saw that your phones wallpaper was of the lil guy

Simon! Who is generally pretty okay with dogs (Riley??? Like cmon the boys an Angel)

Simon! Who didn’t realize how much of a brat the dog was until you’re having the door half shut when he came over

“Okay, he doesn’t bite, he just…” the loud bark of the tiny dog cut you off, “Screams bloody murder.”

Simon! Who assumed the more he would come around the dog would like him more

Simon! Who was wrong

Simon! Who after the tenth or so date he made a detour on the way and got all training treats and the exact things he used to train Riley

Simon! Who very quickly realized that your dog was heavily food motivated

Simon! Who had your little demon dog carpet ready in two months

—

Johnny who was just offended the dog didn’t love him, YOU loved them so therefore the dog must as well???

Johnny who refused to believe the idea that the dog loved you more than him

Johnny who would wake up with you tucked under one arm and the little bastard standing on his chest like he was plotting his murder

Johnny who never touched the lil guy because he would get bit and then you would cry because you felt bad

Johnny who would go at great lengths as to not get caught by the ankle biter

“baby why are you on the counter?”

“…nothin lassie, grab yer lil mutt yeah?”

Johnny who got left with dog sitting when you went on a work trip

Johnny who is used to be alone so it wasn’t hard but it was mildly terrifying

Johnny who spent twenty minutes staring at the dog before going to grab the dog treats

Johnny who realized you train the lil mutt, sit, lay down, stay, come, even play dead

Johnny who had more fun with that than he should

(they still hate each other, but they only around you)

(toodles)

[lexsssu]

so im a little bit nervous to post on your fic and it's almost finished, but I saw you did a zack/reader chapter and was curious, would it be ok to request a Sephiroth/reader? he's so soft in crisis core and so dreamy adasdjk thank you it's fine if you dont <3 have a good one!

TAGS: Sephiroth/F!reader, breeding, smut, pregnancy, drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)

“Exquisite…An angel from above gifted to someone such as I…”

Sephiroth had never imagined himself as the paternal type, nor even someone who would become a father, and yet now there is nothing he wanted more than to plant his seed deep into your womb. 

He can’t stop his hips from thrusting downwards into your soft, moist cunt that so easily yielded to the intrusion of his cock. Your pleas are like a siren’s call to his ears, and the way your fingers dug scratches into his toned back like a gentle tickle that only further fanned the flames of his desire.

“I can’t wait to watch you grow with our child. I know they’ll be just as perfect as you…because they’re ours…” 

Despite the circumstances of his own birth and the hardships he has faced throughout his life, Sephiroth is all the more determined to ensure that the fruit of your love will live a life with everything he has never had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Around a year’s time later, 1st-Class SOLDIER Sephiroth would be normally found with three identical children strapped to his body whenever he was in his office at Shinra.

It would never cease to amaze everyone, particularly his own friends, just how much the once-cold general would melt when surrounded by his little family. Attending his wedding last year was one thing, but getting to see him be a doting father to his adorable kids was a whole other ballpark.

Well…at least they got to be uncles to such cute ankle-biters.