#in terms of his positioning in the gang

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Angsty Post Outsiders Headcanons

-Ponyboy gets real cuddly for a while, but Darry and Soda don’t mind because it’s kind of nice their kid brother is still a kid, even though he’s grown up a lot. Darry in particular will just sit with Pony on the couch with an arm around his shoulders, and it helps keep Pony grounded

-For a while, none of the gang can stand to say either Johnny or Dally’s names, because whenever they get brought up Pony goes completely blank, Darry’s eyes get cold, Soda tears up, Steve picks a fight, and Two-bit goes out drinking

-The long term effects from Ponyboy’s concussion leave him with balance issues, blurry vision, and dizzy spells for a while. It has Darry terrified about the possibility of him having long term brain damage and has Pony really stressed. Soda doesnt know what to do so he just pretends everything is fine, but his positivity is so false he cant even fool himself

-The first time Ponyboy voluntarily leaves the house after everything is when Curly Shepard gets out of the reformatory and shows up on the Curtis’ porch looking for him. A bit of the spark has returned to Ponyboy’s eye when he gets back that night and because of that Darry can’t really hate Curly Shepard as much as he wants to. Sodapop loathes the kid enough for both of them anyhow

-Steve notices Dally’s absence the most whenever he’s stealing cars because Dal used to know where the best places to drive them and then drop them without being noticed by the fuzz

-Sodapop is super wary of girls after Sandy, and Steve hates that he’s secretly happy about it because even though they get to spend a lot more time together now, Sodapop is clearly still heartbroken

-Curly Shepard has always liked booze a little too much, and even though Ponyboy doesn’t like the taste he quickly learns to like the feeling of being drunk and not having to think about Johnny or Dal. Surprisingly, Two-bit is the one to shake some sense into him after everyone else was unsuccessful

-Steve starts playing music real loud all the time and no one gets why. (He does it because everything is so quiet all the time without Dal causing trouble and Johnny and Ponyboy always muttering to each other and snickering)

-Steve was the first person in the gang to find out about Curly and Ponyboy being a couple when he walked in on them cuddling one day. They don’t notice him and he didn’t tell anyone, not even Soda, because if what happened to Johnny and Dally taught him anything it’s that rash actions and loose lips have a cost he isn’t willing to pay

[brittle-doughie]

The Gist of the Dangerous Exchange

This is one of my favorite events, how have I not done something about it yet-

The encounter with the Chess Choco twins would unintentionally have been the closest you got to being brought into the Darkness. (Rip Pomegranate) The inner parent within you wouldn’t have seen anything wrong with their antics, fully willing to go along with what they wish for you, unaware of the ties they had with the cookie that was after you.

“Oh! You can be our King/Queen piece!”

“Be our King/Queen piece.”

Earl Grey Cookie though…you were suspicious of him just as much as you were with the previous CoD members, but that fact wasn’t known to you yet. You just had this odd feeling with the him, no matter how close and friendly he tried to get with you.

Trying to give you the first class experience, your very own room with all your needs met, even a bell to call for him if need be. Normally, you’d be pretty thankful of such treatment, but again, the vibes he’d give off made you steadfast.

As per the two’s request, you were made to be their King/Queen piece. You really couldn’t say no to the two, it made you happy to see them happy when you accepted, much to Brave and friends’ surprise. The twins made it pretty apparent that they were next level in terms of their skill for this game.

King: You were well protected by their pieces on the board, Gingerbrave and friends could not find an opening with how well guarded your position was.

Queen: The twins were a lot more loose with their pieces, but your role as a Queen piece meant you were actively taking the Brave gang’s pieces more often.

Those feelings about Earl Grey from earlier only seemed to become validated when came time for the chess game. You weren’t an expert with this game at all, but even you could see that Earl Grey seemed to be purposely throwing the match with his stalling.

A part of you was relieved when Gingerbrave decided to be, well, Gingerbrave, and win the match by putting you in checkmate. Hey, guess cheating was fine as long as you win, right?

The twins were not having it with Brave’s actions though. They demanded a rematch as you tried to calm them down, but Brave and the others grabbed you and led you away out of there, calling out to the two to take care now since there wasn’t really a whole lot you could do. Now the twins were even more upset at seeing you go, with Earl Grey having to be the one to calm them down…

“We lost…our perfect plans…”

“Our plans failed…”

“Where are Gingerbrave and the others?”

The twins had to solemnly admit that they got away..

“Was a cookie with a bright soul with them?”

The twins perked up a little with this question, saying that they did with Y/N Cookie! They reminisce on how fun it was to play chess with them, they even made them their most important piece! It was like when they saw into your, they saw a piece of family in your soul. An important piece….

“Hmph, I see…”

BRB, Dark Enchantress Cookie gotta slam her head against a table and scream into a pillow for losing Y/N Cookie AGAIN

“However, there will be another opportunity…”

“We’re sorry…”

“We are sorry…”

“Seek me out. We have much work to do…”

“We’re gonna win next time! And then Y/N Cookie will play with us again!”

“We will win next time. Y/N Cookie will play with us again.”

“Yes, they’re quite special, aren’t they…? I will be waiting..”

[thewriterg]

𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐲

pairing(s); dallas winston x gn!reader, mention of curtis gang

summary; Dallas Winston was in simple terms the love of your life but you refused to put up with anything less of what you deserved and he figured it out quick enough for him to fix it —flufftober day; 2–

word count; 600+

request; dallas winston x reader who does NOT put up with his bullshit💀🙏🏽 she will teach that mf a lesson if he tries to mouth off to her too🗣️ — @jokersscarrd

warning(s); mention of arguing, reader rather be caught dead then kissing dallys ass, fluff, kisses, and language

playlist; My love mine all mine by Mitski

A/n;—GIFs; @omegaponyboycurtis— killing two birds with one stone with a request

The crisp air of Tulsa flew against the current of your body the color changing leaves crunched under you boots holding yourself under the worn leather jacket that wasn’t yours taking in a breath of humidity before taking a seat on the bench the worn wools groaning at your weight you’d admit that your body temperature was cooler than your nerves were

it was a fact that Dallas Winston was the burner to your simmering pot

You huffed roughly into the cool air fog following after your breath you pulled a smoke from the box that came from the inside breast pocket of the jacket that smelled of smoke, pine, and the fading of stale beer

You took the lighter from the pocket of your jeans letting your thumb roll over the striker wheel just for it to not give a lick of a spark causing you to ‘curse real good at it’ as Ponyboy would say

“Need a light Y/l/n?” You whipped your head around to the location of the voice your blood simmering like the apple filling before being put in a pie crust

You were up from your seated position on the bench walking away from the juvenile listening to his leaf crunching steps behind you calling out your name in a obnoxious, disruptive, way that he knew you hated

Suddenly his hold was on your wrist in a firm grip and your palm stung against his pale cheek a faint making already appearing as the slapping noise carried through the winds with an echo that you couldn’t quite feel sorry for

“Now listen to me Dallas, I’d rather drop dead than kiss your feet and shake like a leaf at drop of your name. I’m not Buck, or Ponyboy, or Slyvia, or any punk to beat on you savy?” You hissed the words dripping like venom from your tongue and teeth and after a brief moment of Dally visibly fighting his pride and his attraction to you in the current moment he’d finally kissed his teeth a small smirk forming against his lips

“You got it doll” The hood put his hands up in mock surrender as you rolled your eyes his arms slithering around your waist to pull you into his front where you were inches apart no avail for personal space

“You f’give me babe?” You could picture the smirk on his sharp face as he leaned his head into your neck nibbling against your skin while in response you just hummed in return

“Yeah, you mouth off to me again and I’ll do more than give you a slap” You threatened no room for a joke in your voice as the brunette finally lifted from your jugular wrapping an arm around your shoulder protectively forcing you to a few steps before you started walking on your own

That day you walked through the park and took the long way home and the stinging against Dally’s cheek that you would’ve been dead for if it wasn’t you was something he’d remember you by

©2023 thewriterg spooktober do not copy, translate, or modify.

[writers-potion]

Writing Weapons (2): Knives and Daggers

Dagger vs. Sword

In many situations, daggers might be more plausible than a sword fight.

Dagger are eaiser to carry and conceal, lighter, faster, good for spontaneous action, suicide bids, self-defense and assassination.

Dagger vs. Knife

No clear distinction; terms used interchangeably

Dagger is more for thrusting with 2 sharp edges

Knife is more for cutting (slashing) with 1 sharp edge

Concealment

Carried in a leather sheath on the belt

Can be concealed under a cloak, in a bodice (sheath sewn into the bodice), in a boot, behind hari ornaments

Bodice daggers (popular in the Renaissance) had no cross guards.

Connotations

Beside its combat value, the dagger has lots of emotional and sexual symbolisms.

The closeness need to attack with a dagger creates intense personal connection. They are often used in fights where emotions are running high: gang warfare, hate crime, vengeance.

Due to its shape and the fact that it's usually worn on a belt made it a symbol of virility in many cultures and periods.

Sometimes it was the hilt rather than the blade: like in the case of bollocks daggers with two...balls on either side of the hilt.

Fighting Techniques

Stabbing:-

The dagger with long, thin blades are made to stab a vital organ like the kidneys, liver, bowel, stomach or heart.

Stabbing directly at the chest seldom works, since the blde may glance off the ribs. Position the dagger below the ribcage and drive it upwards, through the diaphragm and into the lungs. If the sword is long enough and your fighter is a professional, you can get to the heart.

If no professional, just keep going for the stomach and you'll get one of the vital organs eventually.

Slashing:-

When describing a slash wound, show a lot of blood streaming, or even spurting.

Slashing dagger fights are bloody - show your MC's hands getting slick with blood, grip on the weapon slipping.

The aim is to cut the opponent's throat or cut tendoms, muscles, or ligaments to disable. Slashing the muscles in the weapon-wielding arm is the most effective; insides of the writst or back of the knee is also critical.

Assassinations:-

Show good knowledge of the humna antatomy

Use a stabbing dagger

A single, determined, calculated and efficient stroke, probably below the ribs.

Self-Defense:-

Disable the attacker by slashing their weapon-wielding hand (elbow or wrist)

Quick, multiple stabs wherever the MC can get the blade to land; the attacker won't give time for careful positioning

If the blade is too short to do any significant damage, maek up for this by stabbing so ast that the pain and blood loss distracts the opponent.

Vegeance and Hatred:-

Someone who is motivated by raging emotions will stab the victim repeatedly, even after he is already dead.

The attacker may stab or salsh the victim's face, disfiguring it.

Contemporary street fights and gang warfare usually involves these.

Duels:-

If both fighters are armed with daggers, include wrestling-type moves as they try to restrict each other's weapon hand.

Show them trying to disable each other by slashing insides of writes, elbows, the back of the knees, etc.

Dagger + Sword

If the character is expecting a fight, they can hold a sword in their right hand, and a dagger in their left to fight with both

Sword + mace combination also common.

Blunders to Avoid:

Direct stabbing at the chest wouldn't work.

Hero cannot cut his bread with a stabbing sword

adapted from <Writer's Craft> by Rayne Hall

[ddarker-dreams]

Scarlet Ribbons accidental kisses with the gang? (I love your writing so much! You're one of the best fanfic writers <3 <3 I reread your works so often, they make my day : D)

wahhh thank you so much, i'm happy to know my writing can bring you some joy!!! 💖

i'm going to assume that this request takes place before SR reader is in a relationship with anyone, hopefully that's what you had in mind hkjetgrmw maybe something like she started to trip and x guy went to catch her? some traditional shoujo exploits ...

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

There's a 99% chance Giorno's sentient Stand, GER, had a hand in this. The Stand shares Giorno's affection for you and wishes his user would hurry up in courting you already. Giorno catches onto the shenanigans at play but it's too late — while catching you, your lips make contact. His face has never felt so warm. He tries portraying himself in this suave, calm manner, but when you're in his general vicinity, it's a challenge to maintain this balanced state. His voice is a few pitches higher when he rushes through an apology. The Don of Passione would feel less nervous starting down the barrel of a gun. Later, he chastises his conniving Stand, but deep down… he's secretly grateful.

Bruno

Bruno doesn't immediately pull away and thinks less of himself because of it. He's straining himself to the degree that veins start protruding from his forehead. Your comfort matters far more to him than satisfying any carnal needs. After he ensures you're steady, he puts an appropriate amount of distance between you, then starts apologizing for the mishap. If you're feeling particularly mischievous, now would be the most opportune time to tease him. He's usually immune to being flustered, even from you, but the emotions running rampant through his system momentarily lower his defenses. There'll be a slight blush on his sunkissed skin. He's quick to excuse himself so he can get his heart under control.

Fugo

Fugo struggles to make eye contact with you for a solid week. Once he gets past the initial slew of positive hormones that make him feel like he's on cloud nine, reality settles in, and he's mortified. What if you think he's a creep who did it on purpose? The thought alone leads to sleepless nights where he gnaws on his nails. He berates himself and is extra prone to explode with anger at the slightest provocation. You need to reassure him before there's collateral damage. He's still stiff around you for a while, but that's because his eyes start wandering to your lips if he isn't careful. His own start tingling, as if remembering the soft sensation and longing to experience it again.

Mista

Mista knew the lord was on his side. The last time he attended mass, he prayed for something like this to happen. The main objective henceforth is to maintain his cool. Ride out the waves of coincidence and try not to come off too strong, lest he scare you away. Once he's certain you aren't going to unleash your wrath upon him, the cogs in his brain begin turning. What can he say to sweeten the moment? Win you over with his charisma and charm? There's got to be a perfect combination of words that'll have you weak to your knees. Eventually, he settles on complimenting your chapstick flavor. He later bemoans himself for not saying something cooler.

Narancia

It's like raw caffeine was injected into his veins. He's absolutely ecstatic, ready to bounce from wall to wall, even though he recognizes it was an accident. Who cares? This has got to be fate, or whatever it's called, he thinks he heard the term in a movie once. Narancia is bragging about it to absolutely everyone, much to their chagrin (especially Fugo's). Abbacchio pours salt into Narancia's drink when he isn't looking as a silent form of vengeance. You come into the room and everyone aside from Narancia is grumpy. You're absolutely his first kiss, a fact he takes great pride in. That is, until he wonders if he's your first kiss… then his mood is slightly pampered… for all of ten minutes. Then he's back to beaming, uncaring of anything besides the fact your lips made contact.

Abbacchio

Abbacchio cannot remember the last time his heart pounded this hard — if ever. Still, he doesn't linger in the moment. He may be harsh around the edges, but he still cares for you greatly, the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. When he parts and sees his purple lipstick smudged onto your pretty, parted lips… it is a divine test of his self-control. That mental image has never left him. He's stuck between not feeling worthy of your affection and wanting to kiss you until the pigment stains your lips a deeper color. It's a dilemma. If he isn't constantly distracting himself, his mind runs off to fantasize.

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 1

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapter or so there might not be a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. The next chapters there will be way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

You slowly stepped into the on-call room, sighing while rubbing your aching nape. The painful muscle tension was starting to turn into a headache. You sat down on the big couch and leaned your head back, instantly feeling your body loosen and sink into the soft cushions. Today was a rough day for the ER unit. The hospital was dealing with multiple trauma victims due to a horrendous bus collision. Some patients were barely banged up others unfortunately were looking like they might not make it threw the night. You were already dreading the moment you would have to talk with their family members in case the worse was to come.

The weight of the hour-less intense work and surgeries was starting to rub off on your whole body. As you were almost about to doze off, the doors slammed wide open. “What a fucking trip…” Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he saw you glare at him from under your hooded eyelids. “How many energy drinks did your pour into yourself Kook?” you said in a bit agitated tone. You were tired and running on fumes. He seemed way less strained.

The on-call room was called so for a reason. It was supposed to be a safe heaven for peace and rest. It seemed as tho people like your long time friend let those facts slip their mind. “Sorry Y/N. I did not think you were about to sleep… You looked on fire there!” scoffing a bit under your breath you mumbled “Sometimes I really doubt your capability to think at all… and yes I was lit because I had to at the moment plus I had tons of adrenaline pumping in my system. Now it’s all wearing off”. Running his tattooed hand threw the thick and shiny locks of hair he sighed in defeat. He knew your were right. At times he was way to energetic and high maintenance.

“Still good for tomorrow?” he changed the subject not wanting to get into a war of back and forth bantering. Nodding your head you hummed in agreement.

Both of you usually made plans on your days off to go out and give medical attention to those who were less fortunate. You took care of the homeless, drug addicts and poor elders that were embarrassed to seek help at the official medical institutions. Many times it was also the lack of insurance that could get very high. The two of you saw it as charity and giving back to society.

You met Jungkook at med school in the USA. He was a scholarship student that worked his way into getting the opportunity to study overseas. You were the only person at your year that was able to speak Korean due to the fact you went to Seoul during part of your high school years. So of course you were more than happy to help Kook who at times struggled with the more difficult English terms during the lectures.

Over the years you two grew close and he was the one to say you should once again go to Seoul and take up your internship there. Being an adventurous young woman the mere thought of it seemed a great idea. So here you were years later already after your internship with a secured position as one of the junior trauma surgeons and planning charity work with your friend. You already scheduled some “appointments” with your long term patients.

To be honest you preferred this type of work more than the big shot tasks at the hospital. For you medicine should focus more on helping people. The world showed you many times that if you were less fortunate or simply made some bigger mistakes in life, the cruel reality was that usually there was no way to afford medical attention and insurance. Sometimes it was also the cost of meds themselves. Those could be unbelievably high, especially when it came to rare or terminal illnesses.

You and Kookie worked with official charities that did their best to find funds for some crucial medication for the poor. Not once did you also end up saving lives of some addicts that overdosed. Usually people just let them lay on the streets and did not care to help. You could not blame them tho. The less nice areas of the city were also full of con artists and people simply did not want to risk their own lives. At times it was also the mentality of “they did it to themselves, now they need to bear the consequences”.

You were not there to judge. How could any of you know what these people went threw in life? What pushed them to “self medicate”. So you kept focused solemnly on helping those who seemed like they needed it.

You closed your eyes again trying to ignore the fact that Jungkook was rustling around with some food wrapping. “If I am to survive the last two hours of this hell shift and be of any use tomorrow I would greatly appreciate you stop making a ruckus and let me rest!” you huffed angrily, not even bothering to open your eyes. Once the room was filled with silence, a content smirk spread over your lips. At last the well deserved quiet. Sweet darkness of dreamland slowly took over your mind.

*** *** ***

Getting to your apartment after ending a difficult day at the hospital always filled you with relief. It was close to 8 p.m. Not having to work the night shift this time and having the day off tomorrow made you really happy. As you walked deeper into the hallway your nostrils got hit with a mouthwatering smell of delicious food cooking, it instantly made a smile spread on your lips. The sizzling sound coming from the kitchen meant that your fiancé was already off work as well.

He was one of the best criminal detectives in the city. You both worked hard and sometimes very long hours, but you somehow managed to keep your relationship flourishing threw all the years. Walking towards the sweet and sour smell, you saw his slim frame hovering over some pans and stirring their content. His wide slim shoulders moving under a simple black t-shirt. They matched so well with his thin waist shaping his figure into a perfect triangle.

Resting against the door frame you stared at him in awe. “Are you gonna keep looking or do you plan on saying hello?” he said in a joking tone and turned to you with a big grin that reached to his eyes. You always wondered how he could keep such a sunshine attitude while working a job full of murders, death and gore.

Pushing your back off the frame you walked to him humming and wrapping your arms around him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent. “Hoba… you are too good to me…” you murmured and kissed him behind the ear. The fact that after a surely long day of work for him, he was there making you both a nice late dinner made your heart squeeze.

You really appreciated having him in you life and that somehow you both were deeply involved despite having hectic and difficult careers. The saying - where there is will there is a way - always made you think of your relationship with Hoseok.

After finishing dinner and basically licking your plate clean, you turned to Hobi with a smile “I’ll take care of the dishes” you said taking the plates from the table and making your way to the kitchen. As you were about to dry off the last glass you felt slender fingers creep up your back. You turned your face a bit a small smirk twisting the side of your lips.

“I was thinking of desert…” Hoseok said in a deep voice staring straight into your eyes. “Oh yea? You want me to run down to the store and grab something?” you teased, being well aware that was not what he had in mind. The twinkling of your eyes giving away how much you were enjoying this. But your fiancé was not the type to put up with games for too long so his only response was rolling his eyes, grabbing you and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you kissed him desperately.

Lately both of you were so busy with work, you barely had the time or strength for even watching a movie together, so you excitedly welcomed the attention he was giving you. Not bothering to make it to the bedroom you ended on his lap on the couch. Your kisses were getting wild and messy. Just as you started to grind against his growing member, your breaths getting fast and uneven, you heard the loud ring of your phone.

If it were any other signal you would chose to ignore it completely, but the ring tone suggested is was Jungkook from his “special” number in case of an emergency. “Foooor fucks sake!” you growled trying to wait out the call, still kissing and moving your hips over your fiancé. If it was just a couple rings you could try and tell yourself your friend was piss ass drunk messing around.

Much to your dismay the phone kept on buzzing “I need to take this…” you said sadly looking at Hobi who was trying to even out his excited heartbeat. “It’s ok babe” he said, he knew he could not be angry about it, usually it was him being called into some crime scene. You walked away to answer the call “You better be almost dead or something close to that to have a reason for calling me at this hour!” you hissed into the speaker.

“Y/N! This is serious. A guy needs help… he can’t get into the hospital and the wounds are beyond my expertise. I am downstairs waiting for you. I really need your fucking help. I will explain everything later” his voice was shaky and full of what seemed like fear, so you stopped your ranting right away.

You quickly ran to grab your coat “I am coming down!” closing the door on your way out you told Hoseok you might have a very late night and maybe he should not wait up for you. Taking quick strides down the stairs of your apartment building you once again were thanking the universe for the most understanding man to have chosen to exist in your life.

*** *** ***

You quickly got into Kooks car throwing your medical bag onto the back seat. “I brought all my suturing stuff in case it was really that bad…” you said under your breath still a bit irked at the fact you were driving somewhere instead of getting frisky with your lover. “You will need it. Trust me…” is all your friend said.

Turing to finally look at him you saw he was pale, his hair was messy and his forehead was beaded with sweat. He was clutching the stirring wheel to the point his knuckles were white. You never saw him so nervous, not even at the hospitals ER unit.

Driving in silence for some time you finally snapped out of your trail of thoughts and realized you made it into the shady outskirts of Seoul. Even when working on your charity missions you both never made it into the really dangerous corners of the city, so you were very surprised and felt a shiver run threw your body.

You let your questioning gaze fall to Kookie, you were about to blurt out a “what the fuck man?” but before you could, he was out of the car grabbing your bag and walking to your side. Seeing your face full of questions, he opened the car door for you looking at you seriously “It’s fine… we are fine… we need to go there” he pointed towards a dark building that looked like a hangar.

Your body involuntarily shook at the sight. You immediately thought of all the crime scenes and stories Hobi shared with you from time to time when you asked him about work. But instead of listening to your panicking mind, you decided that surely Jungkook had to know what was going on and since he said it was fine it had to be, right?

You cautiously walked behind him letting him carry your bag. Usually you would always rip it out just to show what a strong and independent woman you were. Once you walked into the building you could hear the soles of your shoes clank on the hard floor. It all started to feel like some thriller movie, the type with a bad ending. The beating of your heart was so loud you could swear Kook had to hear it. The adrenalin was rushing in your system and you were starting to feel in flight mode.

Before you could panic more, an unknown voice broke you out of the cycle “Fucking bout’ time!” a tall and strong built guy growled at your friend and then eyed you top to bottom. “This is that great surgeon? She is supposed to be better than you?” he scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his face. “For your information I am fucking better at surgical work than most!” you snapped. You were freaked out and now some dude that looked like a typical thug was trying to insult you.

“You better not be just running your mouth hun” he smirked grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to the next room. He basically shoved you inside and tossed your bag at you. You didn’t even know when he managed to take it from Kook. The sight in front of you was gruesome. A young male about your age was laying on some banged up table. Blood was oozing out of his stomach. His pitch black long hair was sticky, his skin pale as a sheet of paper.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered walking up to the man. You turned to look at your colleague giving him the “what do you expect me to do?! make a fucking miracle happen?!” stare. You bent over the man and checked for a pulse. To your surprise he was still alive.

Looking at his slashed abdomen you thought to yourself there is now way you can do anything in these conditions. Even if by some chance you were to manage to stitch him up, the place was far from sterile, so he would die of sepsis anyway. “He needs a fucking hospital!” you say and take your phone out to call up an ambulance.

Suddenly your cell got knocked out of your hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Just as your were about to scream your head off, you saw it, the end of a gun pointing straight at your forehead. “No hospitals” the tall male snarled. Now you were sure, you got into some gang business and this was not gonna go the way you want.

tag list: @wobblewobble822

[dino-fart]

A Vampire’s Kiss (One-Shot)

Pairing: Miguel O’ Hara x Female!Reader

Genre: Romance, Action

Summary: You dated Miguel a while ago and the two of you ended on good terms. The distance grew between you and you had shifted your focus on Kingpin. After achieving your goal, you’d think it would be smooth sailing for the city of Nueva York and for yourself. Oh how wrong you were...

You were known as Diamond Star, a superhero with the power to manipulate light. You adorned a white and gold suit and worked with law enforcement to take care of the criminals. Your fame and power caught the attention of Miguel O’Hara. The two of you became an unstoppable duo and crime rate went significantly down. Your bond with him grew stronger and you entered a relationship with him. 

But that didn’t last long, your jobs put you both at risk of being killed. He had explained to you about being Spiderman results in someone he loves dying, and he wasn’t ready for that. You understood and left on good terms with him, telling him you’d be there if he needs you. That was two years ago and the distance between you two grew, communication was scarce and crime went right back up. Diamond Star made less and less public appearances and didn’t stop to talk to any news reporters after an incident happened. 

Recently, your focus had been on Kingpin, who everyone told you to leave alone. But you couldn’t just sit there and hear news story after news story about people dying from a gang war. So you decided to ditch the suit and take a more subtle approach. You had stalked and gathered information on Kingpin to plan your attack, you wanted to catch him and all his goons in one go. And so you did and did so successfully. 

You remembered the police and SWAT arriving at the scene to find Kingpin wrapped in golden magic rope and his goons temporarily blinded. The city cheered of the villain finally being put away. But you should’ve known this victory wouldn’t last...

It was a Friday night and you were sitting at the table on the balcony enjoying a cup of tea. You looked at the night sky of the city and how gorgeous it was. How peaceful it was...It was moments like these where you wished you lived a more simple life. Your thoughts were interrupted when you heard a soft click of your door. 

You set your cup down but kept your back to the door, waiting to see what idiot was trying to break in. You heard careful footsteps getting further into your living room and the sound of a knife being pulled from its’ sheath. You sprung into action and waved your hand toward the ceiling light which brightened to stun your assailant. When the light went back to normal the assailant opened his eyes to see you charging at him. He was knocked against the wall and onto the ground. 

You kicked the knife away and positioned your foot between his legs. “Who are you?!” You demanded. The man smirked and gripped your leg and yanked it toward him hard. You stumbled and he quickly pinned you to the ground. His leather gloved hands wrapped around your throat and he used his whole body weight to keep you from struggling. 

“Kingpin sends his regards.” The man said with a wicked grin. Your vision began to blur and your head getting hazy. You tried your best to scratch the man’s hands but it was no use. You accepted your fate until you saw a large looming figure entering your line of vision. You blacked out before you could comprehend anything else. 

You awoke with a jolt and let out a raspy scream. “Easy, cariño, easy!” A voice shouted with concern. 

You turned your head to the left to see someone you thought you’d never see again sitting in the chair beside the bed...”Miguel?” You whispered. 

“Hi.” He said with a small smile. 

“W-What are...Was that you earlier?” 

Miguel nodded and looked at you softly, his expression laced with concern. You gave him a smile and rubbed your head, your mind not catching up with what was happening. Miguel noticed this and wrapped his large arm around your shoulders and supported your back. He gently laid you down, “Duerme (Sleep), angel...” You turned to nuzzle your head on his shoulder and Miguel chuckled softly. 

He got the hint and shift onto your bed, he was still in his spider suit and his torso had blood splatters of his enemy on it. But he didn’t care, you needed him. He wrapped his arms around you, his large frame enveloping you in his warm as you rested your head on his chest. His talons ran along your hair and he pressed his lips against your the side of your head. “Estoy aquí, querida, estoy aquí...(I'm here, darling, I'm here...).” He whispered in your ear. 

A few hours went by and you opened your eyes to see Miguel’s sleeping face. As you lay in Miguel's embrace, the room filled with a mix of relief, confusion, and unspoken questions. Slowly, the haze in your mind began to clear, allowing you to focus on the present moment and the man who had reentered your life.

Miguel's presence was a balm to your weary soul, and his touch ignited a spark of familiarity and comfort. His strong arms enveloped you, offering a sense of protection that you had sorely missed. The warmth of his body against yours reassured you that you were no longer alone in this dangerous world.

Gently, Miguel leaned back against the headboard of your bed, keeping you close to his chest. His eyes slowly opened to meet yours and a sleepy smile spread across his lips. Finally finding your voice, you whispered, "How did you find me, Miguel? And why did you come back?" Your eyes searched his face for answers, longing for the reassurance that this was not merely a fleeting moment.

Miguel's gaze softened, his brown eyes filled with regret. "I've spent these past two years consumed by the guilt of leaving you," He confessed, his voice tinged with sorrow, "I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, but I also couldn't bear the thought of you facing the dangers alone. So, I continued to look for you, I knew you moved since we broke up...” He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing, "I finally found you but I didn’t want to make my presence known yet, I was just going to keep an eye out if you needed help and well...Here I am."

Tears welled up in your eyes as Miguel's words reached the depths of your heart. The longing for his presence, the yearning for a shared purpose, suddenly seemed within reach. You reached out, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. He sighed happily by your touch.

"I missed you, Miguel," You whispered. 

Miguel's eyes met yours, his gaze intense and unwavering. He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss filled with longing. The kiss continued for quite some time and when the two of you finally separated that’s when you noticed the blood. “It’s not mine.” He quickly reassured you. You relaxed your shoulders and leaned in to capture his lips in another kiss. 

Miguel let out a soft moan and turned you over so you were laying down on the bed under him. His lips moved from yours down to your neck where he sucked on the skin. You ran your nails along his hair and that encouraged him to bare his fangs. He slowly and gently punctured your neck with his fangs and you let out a moan. “Cariño, you always taste so sweet...” He murmured and sucked your blood lightly. You wrapped your legs around his waist and arched your back off of the bed. 

“Mmmm, let me make up for lost time~” Miguel purred as he pulled away from your neck and pressed his bloody lips against yours. 

Tagging: @deepbatched, @vikingqueen28, @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @alexa-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @deliciousfestsalad, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict, @ironstrange1991, @aribas-stuff, @rianumochi, @vibaracal, @lostpirateinwonderland​      

[bettyfrommars]

I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//biker!Steve//90's au//Part 10

🚨18+Only, smut, oral (m receiving), talk of erection, size kink, swallowing, biker gang, biker!Eddie, biker!Steve, talk of drug use, threats, talk of violence, financial trouble, mention of jail, smoking cigarettes, alcohol consumption, trouble at home, co-parents!Stobin, suggested custody issues, angst, underlying fear of retaliation. Word count: 8.7k

This is mostly just a sweet lil chapter to heal some wounds, right before some old wounds start opening.

Series Masterlist

A/N: I tried to make this part completely void of angst, but alas, I did not succeed. I'm working on a summertime one shot idea for the boys to go to a bike rally with all of the shenanigans that could possibly ensue; it should be a wild one. Big love to my beta @michellecrusher for deciding that this chapter could use a touch of smut.

As always, I'm honored to be on this ride with you and look forward to any and all interactions. Comments, messages, reblogs; it all means so much to me and is what keeps this little world going ❤️‍🔥

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I'm on Fire Part 10: I got a bad desire

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Landing with your face on the puke-stained, beer dribbled carpet of the Velvet Hammer, dusted in a sprinkle of cigarette ash, was not how you wanted to start your evening. You hadn’t even realized you hit the ground until you heard Steve’s voice demanding everyone get the fuck out of his way as he parted bodies to get to you.

And then, Erika’s voice: “I don’t know what happened...she just...fell. I promise, I didn’t touch her!”

People were murmuring around you and Steve was saying your name as you started to come back to reality, taking a deep inhale, blinking back to life. He knelt and propped you up into a sitting position, and that was when the embarrassment of what had just happened began to wash over you, making you wish that a hole in the ground would swallow you up.

“Do you think you can stand?” Steve asked while his big hands found positions under your arms in preparation to lift you up. You turned your head to look at him; his wayfarer sunglasses had fallen from the top of his head to the tip of his nose, and they were about to slip off, but his concern was more with not letting you go.

“What happened?” He asked as he pulled you to your feet, taking a second to grab the sunglasses off his face and throw them on the bar. “Did someone push you?”

“Please. Get me out of here,” you begged as one of your arms went around his shoulders, and one of his hands secured itself at your waist.

He set you down on a chair in front of the employee lockers and told you he’d get someone to cover the door for him while he took you home, or he’d see if one of the girls could stop by.

With your hands between your knees and your shoulders slumped, you began to come to terms with everything as he picked up the phone in the office.

“Wait,” you stopped him. “I can’t afford to miss a day of work, Steve, I’ll be fine. Just...just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Steve understood what a hard spot that was to be in; he lived it almost every day of his life. He put the receiver back down on the cradle.

“What did that bitch say to you?” Steve asked, putting his foot up on the bench.

You shook your head. “That’s just it, she’s not a bitch,” you chewed your lip. “She just saved me from making a huge mistake. I owe her.”

Steve was on his way back out to the floor when you called to him. “Hey, does Eddie have any female friends who are redheads, that you know of? Really pretty, tattoo on her bicep? Someone he’d feel comfortable enough with to let stay at his place?”

Steve popped his knee out and put his hands on his hips, frowning. “No one that he’s...dated, I don’t think,” he rubbed his chin in thought. “But there’s Max, she’s more like a sister to us. I just tattooed her a few weeks ago. Her hair was like a bright, candy red. Why do you ask?”

You turned away from Steve and squeezed your eyes shut, a sob caught in your throat. The sudden rush of relief at so many groundbreaking realizations had your emotions on the verge of short-circuiting. Eddie still had quite a bit of explaining to do, but the tight bud of your heart was blooming like a rose in your chest once again, full of hope.

----------

Meanwhile, Eddie was officially going stir crazy. “I need to get out of this house,” he told Robin has he hitched through the kitchen, careful not to put too much weight on the hip was right below his wound. He was wearing his jeans unbuttoned, so they hung a bit low, bangs swept across his forehead, and one of Steve’s white wife beaters that was too small for him. The thin material exposed the tattoos on his chest and stomach, as well as the ones scattered from neck to hands. He’d spent the afternoon watching cartoons with Oliver, which was enjoyable, but relaxing and sitting still for long periods of time just wasn’t in his DNA.

Also, he wasn’t sure if it was an affect of the morphine, but he’d had another one of his nightmares early that morning, before dawn, and shouted himself awake, covered in sweat. It was the same dream that had tortured him off and on for over a decade; the one where he’s being attacked by a swarm of flesh-eating bat creatures, they’re all taking big bite out of his flesh, and he wakes up to the feeling of choking on his own blood.

“Over my dead body,” Robin challenged, moving from the stove with a wooden spoon covered in macaroni and cheese in her hand.

Eddie’s eyes traveled to the spoon and then back to her face. “That can be arranged.”

“Seriously, dude,” her shoulders sank. “Don’t make me hog tie you to the couch. I promised Astrid we’d keep an eye on you for another night.”

“I have a business to run, Rob,” he said as he hobbled over to grab his leather from the back of the one of the dining chairs. “If this were a hospital, they would’ve kicked me to the curb by now.”

Robin went back to the stove to stir the powdered cheese in with the noodles. She knew that no one could stop him if he wanted to go, and she really couldn’t blame him.

With her back to him she said, “if you end up getting some type of infection and your foot falls off, I won’t ever forgive you.”

Oliver came trotting out from the other room to say goodbye, and he raised his arms for Eddie to pick him up, which he did—and Robin glanced over just in time to see the grimace of pain flash across Eddie’s face as he settled the boy on the wrong hip at first before switching him to the other side. She shook her head, certain he would pop his stitches by the end of the day.

“Steve brought your bike up the hill,” she let him know, while she packed up some medications for him to take. “Your girlfriend is at work by now, I believe.”

Eddie’s eyes snapped to hers as he put Oliver down. “Why’d you call her that?”

“Isn’t she?” Robin challenged, raising her eyebrow. “I can tell you knew exactly who I was talking about.”

Eddie couldn’t help the smile that twitched across his lips.

----------

The Velvet Hammer was packed that night, and by the end of your shift, after very little food, no sleep, and one blackout, you were a bit wobbly on your feet. Steve had to work as security for a while longer, since there was a bachelor party in attendance that was getting a bit rowdy, but he demanded you let him walk you to your car while he had a smoke.

“So, I like Astrid,” you told him. He held out his cigarette to offer you a drag, but you declined with a wave of your hand. “What’s going on with you two?”

“Going on?” Steve put the cig to his lips with thumb and forefinger.

You adjusted your bag on your shoulder as you made room for a group of people to pass on the sidewalk. “You know what I mean,” you insisted, knowing full well that he did. “You two seemed really close last night. I was just curious.”

“Oh, I’m fuckin’ in love with her,” Steve announced with a shrug, as if it were common knowledge. “We just don’t have a conventional relationship, I guess. No one seems to understand it but us.”

You wondered, sincerely, how many women Steve had been in love with in his life. But, you could tell that there was, indeed, something special about the connection he had with Astrid. You wondered if Eddie looked at you the way Steve had looked at her last night.

Steve hung around to make sure you got in your car okay, and then you chuckled to yourself as he sauntered off, flirting with a group of women who were walking by, asking them to come by the bar and keep him company. You were about to maneuver your way out of the precarious parallel spot you were wedged in when your eyes locked on a piece of folded paper held to the windshield under one of the wipers.

At first, you thought it was ticket of some sort, like maybe you were in a no parking zone or something. But then, at closer examination, you realized it was made with blue-lined notebook paper.

It was a handwritten note.

The street was fairly busy that night with cars zooming around town, so you were cautious as you dashed out to pinch it free and pull it back into the safety of the car with you.

It was a...little paper origami duck? Or some kind of bird? You turned it around, inspecting the intricately folded parts, giggling curiously as you did so. You unfastened the delicate edges, careful not to rip it in haste. Finally, you were able to press a flat, albeit crumpled, half sheet of paper against your steering wheel, your heart shot into your throat, melting there like a fat stick of butter.

It was from Eddie:

I miss you. Come to my place so we can talk? It doesn’t matter how late.

-- E

P.S. Oliver wants to make this into a swan for you

Hopeful tears pooled at your lash line and you checked your watch; it was just after 11:30. Surely, they’d be keeping him at Steve’s for another night? But, if so, he would’ve said that and not, specifically “his place”. You tried to fold it back exactly the way it was, failed miserably, and ended up folding it in half without messing up any of the edges to place it safely in your middle console.

For a few seconds as you sat in your car with the radio on, listening to Nearly Lost You by The Screaming Trees, you wondered if you should play hard to get, if maybe rushing over to his place was not the right game to play. But really, truly, you didn’t give a shit about any of that.

You were blinking excessively and yawning, and you had this feeling like, if you rested your head back against the seat, you’d fall asleep right there in your car. But, you took a few deep breaths and patted your cheeks. You brought a can of Coke in your bag from the bar and cracked it open to guzzle some of it, thinking maybe you’d need to go home first and change? Or go straight to Eddie’s? Fall asleep in your car was still an option.

Fuck.

-----------

Earlier that day, around 5 o’clock, Eddie hissed as he dismounted his bike at the garage, clutching his side, trying to mask the spasm of pain, only to see Wayne watching him from the main garage. His uncle nodded in greeting, just wanting to make sure Eddie was okay, as he wiped his hands, and then turned around to finish what he was working on. So much of the communication they shared was silent, but understood.

He had the note in his pocket that Oliver had made into an origami animal, and he wanted to tidy up his place a bit before he did some work, just in case you did actually come over. If you didn’t, he wouldn’t blame you—it had been an especially long 24 hours. But, damn, he really needed to see you, to try and fix whatever had gone wrong, if he even could.

He still didn’t know what Charlene had done to upset you, but his mind reeled with the possibilities.

Eddie had ripped the bandage off his cheek on the way over, so there was just an angry gash there with a few stitches holding it together like a twist tie to a bunch of hammers, and he didn’t realize how much he resembled Frankenstein’s Monster until the new office assistance choked on her soda at the sight of him.

“Rough night?” She asked. Her name was Dana and she’d worked at garages before, but never for one that was affiliated with an MC.

“You could say that,” Eddie returned as he headed over to one of the metal filing cabinets to look for something.

Dana had a few “while you were out” slips of paper she had filled out with phone numbers and people who had wanted to speak with Eddie or Wayne, and she went over them with him while she chewed a red piece of gum.

She finished the last one and then, “oh, yeah, and someone called here looking for a…” she checked the piece of paper. “...Steve Harrington?”

Eddie nodded, taking something he needed out of the file before shutting the drawer. “He’s a buddy of mine. What’s the message?”

Dana scratched her head. “She didn’t say what it was about, just said that it was a personal matter,” she showed Eddie the pink piece of paper with a phone number and name on it. “Said her name was Christina? I don’t recognize the area code.”

“Could you look up Steve in the address book in that first drawer and relay the message for me? He’s in there under Dingus. I gotta run this out to the---”

Dana spelled out Dingus on the piece of paper, without questioning it, and then looked at the round clock on the wall, nervously. “Actually, I should’ve been gone a half hour ago. I need to pick up my daughter from--”

Eddie waved the papers in his hand. “Of course, I’m sorry I’ve been...distracted. Do me a favor and call him when you get in on Monday? I’m sure it can wait till then.”

The name Christina did not ring a bell at the time, but later on, he’d wish that it had.

--------

You decided to go home first to freshen up a bit, but also, you wanted to pick up the photos to show Eddie. Katie was asleep, but you made yourself some coffee and tiptoed around, wishing you had time to shower because you reeked of secondhand smoke, but then realized Eddie probably wouldn’t notice anyway.

You were nervous as you pulled into the gates of the compound; your heart was racing and your palms started to sweat. His black and chrome bike with the menacing, purple flock of bats on the tank was parked right up close to his door, and you angled your car right in next to it.

Once you turned your car off, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting down from the open window in his apartment. The song was Love You to Death by Type O Negative, and you glanced up just in time to see his shadow pull from the window, as if he’d been standing there, watching you drive up.

---------

Up in his apartment, Eddie cracked his knuckles, ignoring the fact that the skin on them was still raw and one of his fingers was probably sprained because it throbbed like a motherfucker. He wanted to make sure everything looked okay before he ran down to meet you at the front door. The TV was on mute, he’d been watching Unsolved Mysteries, but now an episode of the X-Files was starting. There were clean sheets on the bed—just in case---and he’d been on his hands and knees cleaning the bathroom for a good half hour. There was a vanilla candle burning on the nightstand, and he had lit some Nag Champa incense earlier to try and mask the fact that he’d just smoked a couple cigarettes to calm his nerves. He turned the music down a tad and wondered if Type O was too on-the-nose for such an evening, like maybe you’d think he was setting some tawdry scene, when in actuality, he listened to their music all the damn time. He had on the only pair of dark denim Levi’s he owned without holes in them, a black Faith No More shirt that had the neck and sleeves ripped off of it, and his black converse, which were a nice change from the heavy boots he always wore. He slipped his rings on and used his pinky to clean some sleep out of his eyes just before he headed down to greet you.

---------

You were just about to knock, knuckle poised in the air, when the door flew open.

“Hey,” Eddie stood there looking flushed, lips parted, dragging one hand down his stomach as his pupils dilated to take you in.

You gulped. “Hey. Is this too late? I wasn’t sure if you really meant---”

“Oh I really want you here,” Eddie stepped back, holding the door open with his body.

You were just going to walk through without making any physical contact, but then you found your body being sucked against his, as if by some gravitational pull, and you both sunk into each other. He was quick to put his arms around you, hugging you tighter, securing you to him as if your body was oxygen.

“I know we’ve got a lot to talk about,” he planted his lips on the top of your head, only removing them to speak. “I want to make it right, baby. I don’t ever want to hurt you, and I would never let anyone hurt---”

“I believe you,” you answered, moving further inside, wanting to get behind closed doors with him.

There were old, squeaky wood stairs that led up to the narrow hallway, and you held onto one of his belt loops as you followed him up, pausing so he could open the door and extend his arm for you to enter.

“So, this is where the magic happens,” you teased, taking in the open space that was bedroom, living room, and kitchen all in one. There were Iron Maiden and Slayer posters on the wall, a Harley Davidson plaque, as well as your painting, which was the first thing anyone saw when they walked in. Directly to your right was a hallway that looked like closet space and a door to a bathroom. It was a spacious, warehouse style loft with wood floors and a few round, woven rugs.

The windows...the windows were huge.

Eddie snorted at your comment, and was just about to turn around to take you into his arms again, when you bolted over to start busying yourself with lowering the curtains, starting with the window that faced the other side of the street.

“You really should keep these closed,” you told him, leaning over a table with a turntable and an 80’s style boombox. The pull did not work for the second curtain, and your frustration was mounting as you yanked at it, just as Eddie stepped over and put his hand on the cord.

“Let me do it, baby,” he met your eyes, trying to see if he could guess what had triggered such a frenzy.

While he finished dropping the blinds, you took the photos out of your bag, extending them when he turned around. You sat down at the end of the bed and watched his face as he slipped the contents out of the manila envelope to look at them.

He glanced at you a few times as he flipped through the photos, and his expression ebbed from confusion to anger and back again.

Eddie was shaking his head, hair hanging down, his strong fingers curling as if he wanted to crumple them up. “These aren’t...this is not what it looks like,” his eyes searched yours.

“I know,” you looked down, biting your top lip with your bottom teeth. “Erica told me you were set up. And Steve told me about...your other friend.”

The muscles in Eddie’s jaw tensed, teeth grinding, as his eyes narrowed on the window where most of the photos had been taken from. “Some fucker has been watching me this whole time?” The irrational part of Eddie wondered if the guy was over there, somewhere in the abandoned building, right at that moment. Maybe he should go over and introduce himself, possibly break the guys face with his own camera. Break his hands and throw him out the third story window while he was at it.

The photos were starting to make Eddie feel sick with rage, so he put them back in the envelope. Your bloodshot eyes fluttered and he could see how tired you were.

“Who would do this?” You asked, earnestly. “More importantly, why would they do it? I haven’t been here long enough to make enemies. Not of this caliber, anyway.”

Eddie put the envelope on top of the kitchen counter and sat down next to you on the bed with a heavy sigh. He had his hands resting on his knees, but then he took a chance and slid one arm over to interlace his fingers with yours, and you let him. He squeezed your hand. “It’s a long story, but a while back I made a mistake and got involved with this woman who--”

“Charlene Gregson?” She’d always been at the top of your list for someone who would have the motive for something so unnecessarily heinous.

“That’s the one,” he brought your hand over across his leg. “That’s where I went last night, to try and stop her, I suppose. I guess I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

That made a laugh bubble out of your chest for some reason. “What was your plan? Crash through her gates on your motorcycle on a cloud of smoke and seek vengeance?”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders. “Hey, it always works out in the movies.”

You giggled and pulled away, but then he tugged you back, and you were still smiling as he scooped his hand around your cheek and pulled you in for a kiss, little hiccups of laughter erupting between kisses tongues slipping in ever so gently; Mulder and Scully having a conversation on the TV in the background. You held onto his wrist, sinking deeper into the yearning that you always felt for him, pulling back only to rub the tips of your noses together, lips grazing.

“Stay here with me tonight?” Eddie whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. “I want to hold you.”

You were sure, you were almost positive, that you had just fallen asleep for a second while he was talking, and you blinked hard just as he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

“But I stink, I smell like the Velvet Hammer. I didn’t have a chance to shower,” you mewed, feeling your body slump further into hibernation mode as the adrenaline from the past two days wore off.

“You don’t stink,” Eddie assured you. “You can sleep in one of my shirts, and you can use my toothbrush, if you don’t mind my germs.” He had your hand in his and was holding it to his chest as he watched your face.

“I figured you’d have plenty of extra toothbrushes here for all of the copious amounts of women who sleep over,” your exhaustion was making you feisty.

Eddie gave an exaggerated sigh. “Well, I do have a few extras for emergencies. But I’ve never offered up my own personal toothbrush before.”

“Goodbye,” you chirped, standing up, ready to leave.

But Eddie chuckled and caught you around the waist, throwing you down on the bed next to him with a bounce and a grunt.

You were doing a poor job of stiffing your own laughter as you tried to keep a serious face, but then he moved to crawl on top of you and you watched his face seize in pain. He stiffened and put his hand over the area where his knife wound was, easing himself onto his back. While Eddie silently prayed that he hadn’t ripped his stitches, you went around the side of the bed to click the lamp off. You turned the TV off too; the music was on low, but that you didn’t mind.

“We are quite a pair tonight,” Eddie mumbled from the bed, slightly incapacitated, as he watched you moved around his apartment.

You loved the idea of sleeping in one of his shirts and hygiene and all that jazz, but in that moment—you weren’t sure you could last another second. Your lids were heavy and your conversation skills were at an all time low. With rubbery limbs, you climbed on the dark blue comforter of his bed and curled against him, making sure it was the side he hadn’t been stabbed on. Flat on his back, Eddie’s eyes never left you, and he was ready with his arm high and outstretched for your head to make a pillow out of his shoulder.

“I can’t keep my eyes open for another second,” you yawned. You grabbed his chest to pull yourself closer, like he was a pillow, and he kissed your forehead.

You kissed the gash on his cheek, nuzzling the hair just above his ear, planting more kisses as you went. Eddie felt his cock spring to life in his jeans and he was too exhausted to do anything about it. You cupped your hand on the side of his neck, kissed the corner of his mouth, and then finally let your cheek fall to his shoulder with a flop.

Eddie took hold of your leg at the crook of your knee to pull it across his hips, needing to feel your weight, not wanting to let you get away. He closed his eyes, drowning in the feel of your soft puffs of breath on his neck, your chest moving up and down on his arm. He planted his lips to your head again, giving a few audible smooches before he rested his torn cheek lightly against you.

He wrapped his arm around tighter, bringing you closer. “You know, Robin called you my girlfriend today,” he admitted, a low laugh rumbling from his chest.

The only response you could manage was, “mmmpfm?”

The stubble of his jaw grazed your forehead as he contemplated what he was about to say. He’d just been stabbed, and it made him consider his mortality, and the time he had left.

“I was thinking,” he breathed. “If you like the sound of that, maybe we could, make it official? That is, if you could ever see yourself having a dirtbag like me as a boyfriend.”

Your body had gone limp and, in the following seconds while he waited for a response, he heard a soft whistle in your nose and a snore catch in the back of your throat. A few drops of drool started pooling from the side of your mouth and made a wet spot on his shirt.

Eddie chuckled, peeking down at you, but trying not to move too much, not realizing he was about to drift off to sleep as well.

-----------

You weren’t sure what time it was when your head rolled off of Eddie’s shoulder, jerking you awake, but it was dark outside, and you were still in the same position you were when you passed out: hand loosely cupping his neck, and your leg stretched across his hips. His head had rolled to the side, away from you, full lips parted, and the blue glow from the stereo cast a moody light on his skin, making his cheek wound look like something out of science fiction.

Still half asleep, you kissed the exposed muscles of his throat, right at the spot where the dark lines from his back tattoo came up across his neck, and your hand slid down his chest; you didn’t have a plan, you just wanted to feel him. His breathing was steady and shallow, eyeballs dancing under his lids. Your hand met with the top of his jeans, and then your eyes widened at the bulge that was causing a huge gap from skin to denim.

You slid your leg off of him, letting your hand move down a bit further, and your hand had to widen over his clothing to pass over the expanse of his arousal there.

Without even realizing it, you had started thrusting your hips against him, working your core against his hip, and then you lifted up to kiss his chin, aching to find his mouth with yours. You’d gone over to his place with every intention of being intimate with him, and nature had intervened with other plans, but you still wanted him to know how bad you wanted him, how much you craved him every second of the day.

Eddie groaned awake to return your kiss, and one of his hands grabbed your face. “Who is this greedy girl?” He mumbled against your mouth, his eyes droopy.

You straddled him, keeping your knees low, at his thighs, careful not to hit his wound. You started to move your core up and down along the bulge under his jeans, and then you leaned forward to brush your lips against his as you spoke. “You’re so hard, let me take care of it.”

Eddie whimpered a little in the back of his throat. “You can take whatever you want, baby,” and then a visible shiver ran through his body at the mere thought of your mouth on his cock.

You inched your way down, sucking hickeys into the dark tattoos spread across his stomach and chest, avoiding the medical tape from his bandage. Eddie moaned and threw his head back as you licked along the inside of his hip, unzipping his jeans to pull them down.

No boxers underneath, his huge cock sprang free, and the sight of the pre-cum already dripping from the pink tip made your mouth water. Eddie bit his lip while he watched you from under hooded eyes as you took control, pulled his jeans down further, and straddled his leg.

You bent over, and kept eye contact with him as you licked all the way down the shaft, and then wet the tip with your mouth, flicking your tongue along the slit, cleaning up his primal release.

Eddie pupils were blown, his lips parted as he watched.

“Whose cock is this?” You asked, teasing the tip with your wet mouth, planting hungry kisses down his shaft.

Eddie choked a little in the back of his throat. “It’s—it’s yours baby.”

He was already rock hard—throbbing, even---and your core flowered open beneath your clothes, soaking your underwear to the point that you actually had to reach down and touch yourself as you sucked him. Eddie noticed this and it made him mumble, “fuckbabyfuck,” as his leg squirmed, digging his heel into the bed.

You worked the tip of his cock with your hand while you sucked one of his balls into your mouth, and you couldn’t help but smile a little at how crazy it was making him.

Somehow, between sleeping on someone else’s couch and working, Eddie had neglected to jerk off recently, and so he was about to….

“Fuck, baby, right there,” he hissed, bucking his hips. “You’re gonna make me…”

You went back to work, gripping him with hand and mouth in tandem, lips stretching to take all of him, eyes watering, swallowing his tip in the back of your throat every so often, as he watched you with a furrowed brow, cursing under his breath.

Suddenly, his breath started to hitch, and the fingers of one of his hands dug into the comforter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum baby...if you want it...like that…”

He was warning you as if you’d pull your mouth off and jerk him the rest of the way, but you wanted all of it in your mouth. You moaned as you sucked at the tip, pulling the orgasm out of him, saliva dripping down his balls.

Eddie let out a whimper and his leg jerked just before he stilled, and you tasted the salty sweetness of his warm cum shoot into the back of your throat in bursts. You drank his spend like his dick was a straw, throat busy swallowing every drop, moaning as you did so. You milked the tip for all he could give you, and then you cleaned him up with your greedy tongue, planting kisses on his cock when he was done with his release.

Eddie stared at the ceiling, slightly shook. “How are you so good at that?”

You sighed a quick laugh, licking your lips, as you made your way to the bathroom to finally brush your teeth. When you came back out, he was already asleep.

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

As your eyes opened and adjusted to a sliver of buttery light peeking in from the curtain, your mind put you in several places. First, you were in your childhood bedroom, feeling like you needed to get up and ready for school, and then you were in the more recent bed in the house you shared with Katie. But, then the Iron Maiden poster came into focus and you were slammed with the realization that you had passed out in Eddie’s bed and it was already morning. Your intention had been to take a nap for an hour or two, but now you were alert to the idea that Eddie might still be somewhere in the room.

You remembered falling asleep on Eddie’s shoulder, waking up hungry for his cock, but now you were facing in the other direction, there was a blanket over you, and someone had taken your shoes off. It was Sunday, so the garage was closed, but you could still hear voices down below and the sound of a car engine revving. You reached your hand behind you to pat the bed, but only found an empty space; either Eddie was in the bathroom or he had already gone downstairs to start his day. God, what time was it?

You rolled over to crawl across the bed to look at the digital alarm clock, inhaling the smell from Eddie’s pillow as you went, and choked a little when you saw it was almost 9:30.

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, throwing the cover off of your body. You couldn’t remember the last time you slept in for that long. A fear that you’d be late for work gripped you, but then you were reminded that you were no longer the director of a gallery, and your new job didn’t start until cocktail hour.

You found your shoes tucked neatly against the sofa, and on the kitchen counter in front of the coffee pot was a note propped up like a little tent with your name on it.

I had to run a tow.

I hope you’re here when I get back.

Thank you for taking it like a good girl last night.

-- E

Eddie and his little notes. You grinned as you folded it up and put it in your pocket, because of course you’d be saving any note he ever left you till the end of time.

It was then that a heavy fist started pounding on the door down below. “Helloooo? Anyone? What the hell do I gotta do to get some service around here?”

----------

Even though the mechanics were all off that day, the towing business was a 24 hour thing. There was another Coffin King named Lou who was usually able to cover some nights and weekends, but when Eddie found himself stuck with a pickup at the worst possible time, he tried to focus on the money and be grateful for it.

He’d considered waking you up to see if you wanted to go with him, but you were sleeping so peacefully, he didn’t have the heart to disturb you. He woke up with his cock so achingly hard thinking about what you did to him in the middle of the night, that he had to jerk off as quietly as possible in the shower that morning. He was sure you’d heard the grunt he barked when he came, thinking about filling you up, listening to you tell him how deep you wanted all of him inside of you.

The last time he went this long without having intercourse with a girl that he had feelings for was maybe his freshman year in high school. The crazy thing was, he was enjoying the feeling of waiting and making it special; even though the holding out part was totally accidental, and he would’ve jumped at the chance to bury himself inside you that very first night you met.

But the way you took care of him last night, holy shit: he couldn’t stop thinking about it. He couldn’t tell if he had really found the Holy Grail of women, or if his feelings for you had made it as intense as it was; possibly a bit of both. He was seized with memories of your mouth on him off and on while he was on the job, and he’d have to slyly adjust himself in his jeans. He couldn’t wait to get back to you.

He started to whistle as he rounded the corner to re-enter the compound, hoping that your car was still there, hoping that he could….

But he spotted a different car in the lot right next to yours that hadn’t been there before, and you were coming out from out of the garage with your hand shielding your eyes, looking deeply concerned.

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

You considered just letting whoever it was keep on knocking, but at one point, the person yelled: “Eddie! I know you’re here! Don’t make me take your bike for a spin around the block!”

And so, you put your shoes on and went down, wholly unprepared for what you would find.

There were two smiling faces practically pressed up against the glass of the main door as you descended the stairs. One was a guy with a mop of brown curls, and the woman with him had beautiful olive skin, black hair, and wore glasses. They both waved enthusiastically, happy to finally be acknowledged.

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

“What the hell, Henderson?” Eddie parked the tow truck and jumped down, wallet chain flapping against his jeans. Eddie waved to you across the way, as his mouth opened into a toothy grin, exposing actual cheek dimples, that you’d maybe only seen him wear once or twice.

“If it isn’t the Dungeon Master!” Dustin came toward him with his arms out. “What the hell is up with you and Steve? You’re the two hardest losers to find!”

They hugged, and then Eddie tousled Dustin’s hair, mussing it up. “You haven’t changed a bit, you little goblin.”

Next to you, under the shade of the awning was a very pregnant Suzie, who you’d also just met. She was in a purple floral dress with a white collar, and you’d pulled a chair around for her to have a seat.

“I love to see my Dusty Buns happy again,” she said, passing her hand over the globe of her belly as you both watched the two men embrace. “We should’ve moved back sooner, but life just got away from us.”

“How do you all know each other?” You were just barely able to introduce yourself before Eddie pulled up, and so you had no idea how close the gang was.

“I’m surprised the boys never mentioned Dustin to you? They went to high school together; they’re all really close. Steve is basically Dustin’s surrogate father,” she giggled, lifting her sweet moon-shaped face to you in a soft smile.

You did feel a little self-conscious about not knowing, but there was a good reason for it. “Well, I’m...Eddie and I are…kind of a new thing.” But then you remembered that you did know a little bit about one of their old friends. “They’ve mentioned Max to me. I guess she visited a couple days ago? I didn’t get to meet her though.”

“Maxine is a riot!” Suzie exclaimed. “You’ll get you meet her and Lucas when the baby is born. They said they wanted to be here for the actual birth, but who can really tell when that will be? I’m due in a week, but I was born two weeks early, and my sister’s newest baby was born almost a month late,” her eyes got glossy. “Boy, I really can’t imagine holding this baby in for another hour, let alone another month.”

Eddie had his arm around Dustin’s shoulders as they approached, and he gave him a playful knuckle rub to the head before they parted.

Eddie greeted Suzie, and she went to stand up to hug him, but Eddie quickly bent over and kissed her on the cheek so that she wouldn’t have to move. He swallowed as he took in the enormous state of her pregnant belly. “Shouldn’t you be...resting? Is it too hot out here? Should we go inside? Are you comfortable in that chair?”

Suzie laughed. “My god, Eddie, you’re as bad as Dustin. I’m fine, I promise. I’m trying to shake this baby loose; this little person has rented out my womb for long enough.”

Eddie met your eyes and kissed you on the lips before he put his arm around you and pulled you against him.

It was the wrong side, again, and he winced.

Dustin noticed the look of pain. “What the hell happened to you?”

“He got stabbed,” you volunteered with a sheepish look on your face, tilting your head to Eddie’s shoulder.

“Oh, of course he did,” Dustin said, his mouth wide. “What else would Eddie or Steve be doing on the weekends besides mortal combat?”

Suzie looked concerned, but Eddie assured the group that he was fine. He looked you in the face as he said: “So, did you two get to meet my girl?”

Your cheeks got warm, and you ran your hand up and down his back.

“Only briefly, before you rudely interrupted,” Dustin let him know, moving behind Suzie’s chair to put his hands on her shoulders. Dustin had been worried for a while there that Eddie would never move on from his ex, and that he would always be in a dark head space in regards to romance, and so seeing him with you made his heart feel light.

“You see Steve yet?” Eddie asked. “He’ll be pissed you didn’t come to see him first.”

“Um, not like we didn’t tryyyy,” Dustin raised both eyebrows. “No one was at the house and the tattoo shop wasn’t open yet. I talked to him on the phone a few weeks ago, but we weren’t sure when we’d be in town.”

Eddie thought about that for a second. It was very odd for neither one of them to be home, especially on a Sunday morning. But, there was a chance Robin took Oliver to a shift at work with her and Steve had spent the night at Astrid’s, depending on how early Dustin had popped by.

“I’ll find him,” Eddie assured them both. “Are you staying at your moms house.”

“Hell no,” Dustin responded almost too quickly. “I mean, I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but she’s been driving us up the wall lately. We’re renting a house a few blocks away from her until everything is finalized at our new place.”

They all made a plan to meet up as soon as they could figure out where Steve and Robin were, and once they were gone, Eddie turned to you, cupping your neck to pull you against him.

“Is it okay that I introduced you as my girl?” He stroked his thumb across your chin as he asked it, chocolate eyes unsure if they should meet your gaze or watch your mouth.

You lifted up to brush your lips across his, tongue peeking out only slightly, making him groan a little. You searched his eyes, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “Is that what I am?”

Eddie put his hands on your lower back and brought his head back, wanting to see your whole face. “You tell me. I wanna hear it. Are you my girl?”

You were nodding yes before he even finished. “I’ve been your girl for a long time now, silly boy.”

“Yeah?” Eddie breathed in a chuckle, his cock growing as he met your sweet, eager mouth. He paused only to admit, “I’ve wanted you to be mine since that first day we met.”

----------

Of all the places Steve had hoped to wake up on Sunday morning, a jail cell was not one of them.

He made bail, and Robin was there to pick him up, giving him a dirty look as she did so. He had his sunglasses on, his Coffin Kings cut in his hand, and a cigarette bobbing between his lips as he got into the passenger seat and shut the door. The “seek and destroy” tat on the side of his neck displayed loud and proud.

“Nice shiner,” Robin said under her breath.

“Yeah, well, you should see the other guy,” Steve said, cupping his hands to light his smoke. His black eye was the only visible mark on him, but the dude he had a tussle with had gone to town on Steve’s ribs, and there would definitely be bruises there.

She made a face as she backed out of the parking spot. “You smell like vomit.”

He ignored her observation. “Where’s Ollie?”

“I dropped him at Astrid’s,” she said as she pulled her own sunglasses down from the top of her head to cover her eyes. “I didn’t want him to see this.”

“Why are you acting like this was all my fault?” Steve blanched, flicking ash out the window as they turned out of the courthouse, Somebody to Shove by Soul Asylum playing on the radio. “You don’t even know what happened.”

“I don’t have to know, Steve, that’s the point,” she barked. Her frustration with him was also mixed with a generous amount of worry. “When are you going to grow up and start walking away from danger instead of headlong into it every chance you get?”

“Oh I get it,” Steve said sarcastically. “So, you don’t care that Tina is back in town, and this had everything to do with her?”

Robin hit the breaks and turned to him so fast, a chunk of her hair stuck to her bottom lip. “What do you mean Tina is back in town?”

“Now you care?” He tapped his knee as he took another drag.

Robin felt like she forgot how to breathe, so she pulled over to park haphazardly along the sidewalk at an angle.

She turned the car off but left the air on. “You know how I feel about Tina, but please tell me you didn’t hit her.”

“Oh, fucking of course not,” Steve balked, snapping his head to look at her. He gestured to his black eye with the two fingers holding his cigarette, “this was courtesy of her new fiance. I think they were both on crack. They were waiting for me when I left work last night. Now, all of a sudden, out of the goddamn blue, Tina wants to see Oliver.”

Robin was shaking her head, gripping the steering wheel. “No, no, absolutely not,” she said, definitively. “She disappeared when he was 3 months old. No. There’s no way. She’s a drug addict, she’s a narcissist, no. Not a chance in hell.”

“I know, Rob, believe me. It’s not going to happen, okay?” Steve assured her with a wave of his hand. “At least not until she cleans her life up.”

Christina, Oliver’s biological mother, didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body, and never wanted anything to do with her son, but the fear had always been in the back of his head that one day she’d pop up like a mean, STD rash.

Robin felt her eyes getting moist and she wiped at her cheeks angrily. “Where are her and her fleabag fiance now?”

“Oh I put that scumbag in the hospital so hard,” Steve threw the rest of his cigarette out the window and licked his lips. “He’s lucky I didn’t put him in a grave. I’m sure Tina’s already changed her mind, you know how fickle and selfish she is. They were most likely on a bender and thought they’d come through town and fuck with us. They’re probably on their way back to Memphis by now. I don’t want you to worry about it, okay?”

Robin swallowed a few times, trying to allow him to comfort her. She never expected or intended to fall into this roll and be a mother to Steve’s son. But, it happened. Oliver was their son now, and she loved him as much as if he had grown in her womb. And, she would fight to keep him safe with the same level of conviction.

Steve sniffed and adjusted himself in his seat. “Thank you for bailing me out, by the way.”

Robin snorted as she started the car. “Dingus, I could barely afford the gas to drive over here, and you think I had the cash to bail you out? Get real.”

Steve frowned. “Who was it, then? They said I made bail. Otherwise, I’d still be rotting in there.”

“I assumed it was Astrid? Or Eddie?”

Steve shook his head. “Eddie doesn’t know, and Astrid is in the same financial hole we are.”

Robin put the car in drive but kept the break on. “Well, who was it then?” She posed the question as both of them searched their collective data bank memories for a close friend nearby who had more than two pennies to rub together, or something valuable to use as collateral.

Hours later, they still couldn’t think of anyone.

----------

You left Eddie reluctantly so that he could go look for Steve, and you could take a long awaited shower and throw your nicotine-saturated clothes in the wash. The business card with John Gregson’s email, phone number, and private extension was on your dresser, and you stopped to pick it up as you walked across the room. You meant to bring up the situation to Eddie, but the timing was never right. Was John trying to mess with you in the same way his wife wanted to mess with Eddie? You didn’t get a bad feeling from him, but now, after everything with the photos and Charlene paying people off, you weren’t sure.

A voice inside whispered that John could be an ally if you impressed him, and he had the notion to take you under his wing. John was the one with all the power at the end of the day, and if Charlene could play with fire, well then, so could you.

You decided to give him a call first thing Monday, and hopefully make a consultation appointment with him to get a taste for what type of art piece would suit his tastes and needs. You wondered if it was for his office or home? If it was a piece for his personal space at home, would you bump into Charlene while you were there, commiserating with her husband? The idea of getting under Charlene’s skin and making her sweat a little scratched an itch in you that you had not been able to reach for a while.

---------

Part 11

Eddie after reader is done with him image courtesy of @tenthmoon

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It's so damn cool that some of you have made it this far and continue to want to know what goes on with reader and our boys! It warms my heart in a way I'm having trouble expressing in words xoxo

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Taglist for my other Hell's Belles and Coffin Kings ❤️‍🔥 @texasblues @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @lilpotatobean2 @dandelionnfluff @munsons-mayhem28 @eddiemunson95 @tlclick73 @clincallyonline17 @kelsiegrin @stylesxmunson @nope-thanks @lofaewrites @layla-loves-ed @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @whatwedontdointheshadows @falling-solar-system @miarosso @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @lma1986 @emxcast @secretdryrose @bexreadstoomuch @ms1oftheboys @dream-a-little-nightmare @hellv1ra @manicmagicmayhem @etherealglimmer @unfocused81 @notsobubblybaby @trufflshuffle12 @aysheashea @leilalaufeyson02 @ireidsmut @trixyvixx @tenthmoon

[pinkysberg]

can't flesh out a WHOLE thought yet but thinking a lot about red dead and how it addresses this idea that desperate people will do things they wouldn't otherwise do. and while most of the van der linde gang is an example of this to a degree, i feel javier is the best of them.

he's in such a desperate position. being in a country that is not his own (that is also actively hostile toward him) because he's actively wanted in his own country is already w pretty hard spot to be in, so naturally he takes to the first person to show him kindness and offer him an opportunity for a marginally more stable position than prior. it's worth noting, though, he clearly had a moral code he was unwilling to break as he doesn't remain with dutch, but what i hear criticized just as often is his decision to work with the mexican government as a hit man. it goes against everything he is.

but when it's work for me or die, take this job or starve, agree to the terms or be shot like a dog or strung up for everyone to watch, it puts you in a pretty desperate position. we can't all be dutch who would sooner rag doll off a cliff side than compromise.

[mollysunder]

On Silco and Molatovs

I still think about how the creators of Arcane wanted the opening scene to be a young Silco throwing a molotov cocktail during the Day of Ash on the bridge. It's supposed to be implied that Silco's actions were the trigger for why that day escalated to such violence and death. But honestly, all it does is vindicate the success of Silco's leadership in Zaun.

Most of the problems Silco faces in Act 2 & 3 are practically the same challenges Vander faced, but worse. His kid blew up a building and intentionally murdered people while doing it. The operation he had his kid go on got interrupted by a rival gang of young people with the objective literally up in flames. Piltover's putting (economic) pressure on Zaun to find the culprit on the Progress Day attack. Silco also has to put up with upstarts attempting to undermine his leadership position as tensions starts to mount. In spite of all the pressures Silco faced, he was able to manuever around them all a lot better than Vander did.

Let's take Jinx's hexgem heist for the first example. One building robbed and vandalized, another building set on fire and bombed, and six enforcers killed. Yet the only enforcer that was in Zaun for that escapade was Marcus, because Marcus couldn't treat Silco like Grayson treated Vander.

When the kids accidentally blew up the Kiramman building during their heist, no one died, but enforcers were flooded into Zaun, because Grayson saw it in her capacity to do that. Even when Grayson goes to calmly speak with Vander, she's still flanked by aggressive underlings who consistently escalate tensions. Grayson, as the Sheriff Vander trusts, either can't control the enforcers in her charge or is incredibly lax with how they operate, and that's because Grayson had no incentive to be genuinely effective.

Grayson and Vander operated on knowledge where both assumed Piltover's forces had the upperhand on Zaun and could demolish them. No matter how cordial Vander and Grayson were to eachother, Grayson held the cards in that dynamic. There was nothing Vander could do if Grayson just changed her mind about keeping enforcers out of Zaun. Grayson just believed it was for the good of both cities to avoid further bloodshed (that Zaun risked) by delegating responsibility of Zaun to Vander. They manage to work together essentially through Grayson's grace, rather than Vander's own legitimacy as a leader.

Marcus however, must actually attempt restraint because both he and Silco have actual stakes in their relationship. So Marcus enters Zaun ALONE to figure out a solution with it's defacto leader, Marcus is just upset about it the whole time. Frankly that's why I think Jinx intentionally caused as much loud and obvious damage because she KNEW she would get away with it, she still kind of has (she isn't in Stillwater). Jinx has been with Silco for at least seven years, she knows he's got Marcus in bind that's only getting tighter, and knows Silco won't hesitate to throw someone (the Firelights) under the bus for it, unlike Vander.

And even when passage through the bridge is shut down and Zaunites are out in anger protesting, no one dies. Some Zaunite there literally threw a molotov cocktail at the enforcer line and yet violence on the scale of the Day of Ash didn't transpire, because Silco put them, specifically Marcus, in a position where the had to be restraint. In every aspect of Vander's leadership that's about real material gain, Silco has managed to succeed where he failed. Practically every act of aggression at Piltover under Silco's regime never saw the same level of retribution that Vander's did. Sevika chose Silco over Vander because she believed he truly was a more effective leader, and she was right! In the end, she didn't betray Silco because he easily outpaced all the other contenders.

Tldr: Whenever the writers bring up Silco's faults, sometimes it just makes him look better than his counterparts in terms of skill and effectiveness. Silco managed to get Zaun treated like a separate nation faster than Vander could have dreamed.

[speakeasyaoi]

Mordecai Heller x GN!Reader

> Requested by @scrunkalicious | I thought I needed details to come up with anything, but I managed with a simple prompt just fine! Feel free to ask another request with the specifications you mentioned. :)

PROMPT: N/A

It is going to take a very, very long time to break down Mordecai's walls enough for him to entertain the idea of a relationship, especially if he wasn't the one to initially fall for you. It's crucial that you gain his trust and respect before trying to go for anything romantic, and it's more likely to win him over if it's a slow, gradual progression. He's not going to be the one to ask you out first, either, you'll need to put in work to get him to let you into his life.

Mordecai tends to be subtle and 'quieter' when it comes to displays of affection; he loathes PDA, both as a witness and participant, and goes so far as to avoid even mentioning that he's taken or citing you as his partner. He highly prefers it to be a private affair, both because he finds it to be more intimate and meaningful that way, and he's paranoid that anyone around him could use the fact that he has a soft spot for you against him. Though, the fact that he doesn't stop you from getting up close to him or having any kind of conversation with him tips off the people around him to the fact that you're more than just an acquaintance.

He goes out of his way to avoid physical contact of any kind to begin with, but if you've got him in the right place at the right time, he just melts. He's been so touch starved for so long that any affection at all is like a breath of fresh air to him, and he'll cling to that for as long as he can. If he's exhausted from a grueling day of work and too tired to put up his stoic, reserved front, he'll maybe give you a fleeting kiss or let you cuddle up next to him in bed, but it's rare he'll ever initiate physical affection. He's more than willing to let you dote on him, however.

He isn't particularly fond of using petnames or terms of endearment, but he'll tolerate being called 'sweetheart' or 'darling' sparingly, so long as there's no one else present to overhear. He's not going to tell you how good it makes him feel.

It's important to him that his partner is well-groomed, hygenic, and dressed properly, and if he finds that you fall short in any of these aspects, he'll just take to handling it himself. He's not above washing and bathing you, dressing you in the mornings, trimming your hair or helping you shave. If he thinks your outfit is too wrinkled, he'll smooth it out for you. If he isn't fond of how your hair is done up, he'll fix it. He doesn't quite take personal boundaries into account, he just wants his partner to be presentable.

If you aren't working for Marigold at the time you're together, Mordecai is extremely vocal and adamant about the fact that he doesn't want you to be involved in it in the slightest for your own sake, and if you are working together, it's likely he'll try and talk you down from your position, as he did with Viktor. (Excluding the kneecapping part. ...Maybe.) He stresses for your safety in that regard, whether you're involved through being close to him or directly working for the gang, and it's pretty apparent when he does.

Mordecai's top love language is 100% acts of service, no contest. He takes pride in doing things for you, taking on tasks and chores that you'd otherwise have to deal with on your own, cleaning and tidying your home without you even having to ask. It lets him show him that he loves you and cares about you in a way that doesn't require him being overly sappy or touchy, and he highly appreciates that.

To Mordecai, being vulnerable around you is his way of showing that he loves you. Having an opportunity to be around someone he doesn't constantly have to stay on-guard with is a much needed change of pace for him, and a display of his trust in you. Something as simple as not wearing his full uniform around you or not being as stiff and argumentative as he would be with his coworkers and peers means a lot on his part.

He can be rather controlling, not for the sake of being manipulative or stripping you of your autonomy, but he's confident in the fact that he knows best, and he wants what's best for you. He won't force you into anything, but if he believes you could be doing something more efficiently and effectively, he's sure to let you know. This can fuel some light bickering and disagreements, but it's always meant well- he's just very stubborn about it.

He doesn't often enjoy any kind of dates, but every now and then he'll save up a bit of extra money and treat you out to a nice, classy formal dinner; ensuring that everything is kosher and up to his standards beforehand. It's nothing sappy or overtly romantic, but gifting his partner something expensive (enough to be high quality, but not so much it's gaudy and frivolous) is something that's rather important to him, seeing how impoverished he had been growing up. He's also not opposed to taking a brisk stroll with you.

Other notes: this was a little difficult considering the fact I don't envision Mordecai as a very romantic person, so I hope these aren't bland at all- it's also notable that I think Mordecai would treat a male, female and nonbinary partner very differently, but I tried to keep these as vague as possible nonetheless

[sshadowritestoriess]

UH HI TELEPORTS BEHIND YOU.

would u be willing to write reader comforting cassidy. my mind is set on “i can fix him” mode rn i need to hold that man

HAHA certainly, I’ll give this a shot :]

Comforting Cassidy

Mind you, Cole Cassidy is far from being a dependent man. He enjoys his life and how far he’s come, likes what he’s got going. Gets a kick out of being a hero, really, even if that is a bit selfish

But that doesn’t mean things don’t get to him every now and again

A reputation can be a man’s greatest curse, and Cole has quite the ledger dragging behind him.

As much as he leans into the things he does now, figuring himself a better man— though a lot harder than robbing banks, he’d often say. But that just meant the work is worth it— the past never quite lets go, even if he did.

The Deadlock gang was just becoming more of a nuisance every time they happened to find him. He couldn’t help a smile for the nostalgia, but as time ebbs on it starts to get old

His involvement with Blackwatch wasn’t entirely his fault. At least, not in terms of all their wrongdoings. He just wanted to do right, but Reyes turned out to be quite the conflicting role model

And then Overwatch ended up disbanded after he’d already walked out. It’s what the world had wanted, apparently. Every news story preached about the fall of these “terrorists”, something he took to heart a little when his name kept getting used as one of the bad examples.

He knew he hadn’t been the best person. He couldn’t deny the things he did, but that’s why he had come to Overwatch— to try and make up for those things by enacting Justice for others.

So while he’d been doing a whole lot of trying for the last several years, he sure was getting a whole lot of shit for it. Still. Even when he was beginning to believe his good deeds were finally outweighing the bad.

So, yeah, it got to him sometimes. A recent headline, CRIMINAL MISTAKENLY EXPOSES JUNKER HEIST, ESCAPES POLICE SHOOTOUT — which was no accident.

He’d slipped a tip to the head chief when he’d run into the man at a bar, having intercepted a call between some other wanted felons. There was a literal recording of the conversation in the envelope he’d left— what part of that was “mistaken”?

When their troops didn’t arrive, Cassidy took it upon himself to hold them off until they finally realized he wasn’t bullshitting. Yet when help finally came, he was roped in with the bad guys, and he was shot at.

Adrenaline and frustration makes for one hell of a drug. Even through the fray, he didn’t stop taking down the junkers until he was positive the police could handle what was left of them. Then he fled.

He’d had to take off his hat and wrap it carefully into his serape, ducking behind a dumpster just around a building to tie his hair up— then glancing down to realize he’d been shot through his side— and slipped away from the scene through an alley. He held the bundle of red cloth between his arms like a football, covering where he’d been hit.

It was a lousy disguise, but the hat made for a pretty recognizable target when he’s being pursued. Hiding it lowered his chances of being approached, despite the soft clanking of peacekeeper in its holster.

So he’d managed to limp all the way back home, a temporary apartment just in the outskirts of the city. Your car was parked by the curb across the street— home early. Damn.

He came inside and you greeted him as normal, but noticed quickly the hard look in his eyes and the sweat on his brow. There was a scrape in his prosthetic, a dent in the armor of his chest, and a growing dark spot in the bundled serape.

Your worrying was always endearing, he just hates being the cause for your fret.

“I’m alright, pumpkin, just had a bit of a tussle-“ he’d try to tell you gently, a blatant lie that sank like a rock in his throat when you’d spotted the bullet wound.

You hurried him to lay on the couch, fetching some medical supplies you kept under the kitchen sink. Treating bullet wounds was a skill he’d had the misfortune to teach you, this wasn’t anywhere close to the first time he’d been shot since he met you and it absolutely wouldn’t be the last.

He could do it himself, but you had more careful hands than he did.

You demanded to know what happened, and he gave you the rundown. He always made sure to reiterate these encounters as if he were telling an exciting story, glorifying his actions like he were some kind of superhero.

This often lessened your concerns, but you still didn’t like when he gets hurt. You weren’t going to try and convince him to stop, though— you knew he was likely going to remain on this road until something eventually gets in his way

And then you asked a question he most commonly lied about.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Thus his default response, “Course I am, darlin’. Why wouldn’t I be?”

A soft smile, and a kiss. But you always had your suspicions that he didn’t want to be open about what was really going on in his head.

Surface level, he really was okay. He didn’t need to talk about this things, what did it matter if he knew he’d never be deterred?

But a couple hours later, seeing that damned headline from the events of today, you actually caught his solemn sigh from where he sat at the edge of the bed, glaring into the screen of his phone that was far too bright this late into the evening.

You caught sight of the large capital letters and his troubled stare, but the screen went black and his gaze softened the moment your hand touched his back

“You’re allowed to be upset.” You told him, “You’ve got no reason to pretend around me.”

“Caught me, huh?” He offered half of a smile, but it was tired. He couldn’t meet your gaze anymore.

You pulled him to face you, embracing him as tightly as you could, and told him that he was a good man. He hugged you back, though far more gently than the way you tried to squeeze him

He would chuckle to you, “I know, I know,” then wait a couple moments before finally giving in, starting with a defeated, “…it’s just…”

He rambled a bit about his frustrations, and how conflicted he felt about himself at times. He knew he was doing the right thing, but what was most important was if he felt it was worth it— right? Was it worth it?

You would assure him that, yes, he’d done more than enough. He should do what makes him happiest— only to have him make a sappy joke about being with you in response.

“I’m serious.”

Another sigh, he sinks into your hold. “Yeah, yeah… I hear ya.” it was just hard not to deflect.

He felt your hand come up to his head suddenly, and you thread your fingers through his hair to pet him.

He melts. Comically, he pushes all his weight on you until you’re forced back onto your elbows, his face in your chest. He’s happy to hear your laugh

You both get into a more comfortable position, but you keep combing your hand through his hair. He has your waist trapped in his arms, sealed against him, and his eyes are closed.

“Y’always know what to say,” he murmurs eventually, “my lil’ corner of good in the world. How’d you manage that?”

“I know you. It’s not hard to guess.” You tell him, “And… you don’t owe me your thoughts Cole, but I hope you know I’m here for you. You can always talk to me, you know?”

He takes a while to finally nod against you, a grunt being a weak acknowledgment that he understood. “Jus’ hard, a bit. But I gotcha.” He presses a kiss into your jaw.

“We’ll get there.” You say patiently, and he grins.

He wasn’t a dependent man, but damn it all if he didn’t enjoy leaning into you like this sometimes. With you, he knew he’d do better for himself too.

[creelteeth]

plz ur perv steve is keeping me alive

him n fem reader being besties???

shes so... dumb. shes smart in school but when it comes to anything sexual, she doesnt know anything. doesnt know why her tummy gets all warm n her... down there gets all tingly when she calls steve at night or first thing ij the morning bc theyre best friends, and she just loves his voice.

him messing w her, playing with her hair and squeezing her sides, kissing all over her face n telling her how pretty she is. when she whines, he knows why, but asks anyway

"stevie.." shed pout, "feels funny.."

"where at princess?"

"d..down there..?" pointing shyly between her legs

"oh, those are you princess parts, honey. i can help make it feel better, want me to help?"

pleaseeee , innocent/inexperienced reader with perv!steve. i can’t do the term princess parts i’m sorry

you’d taken your rightful place in steve’s lap while he argued with eddie who was sat across the table. you and the rest of the gang agreed to meet at harrington’s to hang out and play some board games— that quickly turned into a mess of lighthearted arguments about eddie pocketing monopoly money when no one was looking.

“i saw you take a twenty from the bank!“ steve shouted, the leg you sat on bouncing rapidly.

“you must be seeing things, pretty boy.” eddie smiled coyly, shrugging off his accusations.

you could feel steve tensing up under you, he was never good at losing games. he’d gotten rather heated over this round and that showed through his incessant foot tapping.

you sat through it for a bit but at some point you started to feel.. odd.

the position you sat in was no longer comfortable, your thighs squeezed around his, hips shifting from side to side. steve felt you moving around, snaking an arm around your waist to try to settle you but it seemed to have the opposite effect. his fingers pressed into the soft part of your hips, something about that touch coupled with the vibration from his leg pulled the quietest whimper out of you.

luckily only steve was able to hear what came out of you. leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

“what’s the matter, pretty girl?” he whispered, feeling the heat grow between your legs.

“dunno.” you mumble, eyebrows knitting together trying to shift back to the position that granted you the most pressure against your sex but you couldn’t seem to find it.

“just feels funny.” you huff, growing frustrated by the lingering ache.

steve waited a moment, looking over at the three others in the room. they were lost in their own conversation, trying to figure out what game should be played next. he took the opportunity to slip his hand down, fingers ducking beneath the fabric of your skirt.

his index and middle finger found your cunt instantly, fingers pressing into the wet spot that had formed on the cotton.

“is this what feels funny?” he spoke into the skin of your neck, careful not to draw attention.

the contact caused you to inhale sharply. you were use to this feeling, it was something you got pretty often when you were around steve— though for some reason tonight it was starting to ache a little extra.

“feels..” you shift, scooting back from his touch a bit.

“feels tingly.. a-and warm.” you whisper back, genuine confusion in your tone.

steve couldn’t help but smile, fingers finding your cloth covered mound again. pressing a bit harder this time.

“aw, love. how about i help you?” he suggested, finger toying with the sensitive button.

you couldn’t muster out a response, only nodding weakly at his words. clit throbbing against the pad of his finger.

“hey, dickheads— “ steve wolfwhistled at the trio, all three of them cutting their eyes at him. “she’s not feeling too great, i’m gonna take her upstairs. start the next one without me i’ll be back down soon.”

neither nancy, robin, or eddie seemed to respond much. waving him off while they shuffled through stacks of cards.

—

steve had gotten you upstairs pretty quickly, sitting on the bed and pulling you into his lap. he had you sitting with your back to his front, looking at you through the mirror at the end of his bed.

he brought your legs up to spread them, both of his hands keeping your thighs apart.

“alright, now- i wanna help you get rid of the tingly feeling but if you decide you don’t like it just tell me okay? might feel.. strange at first..” steve looked at your reflection, eyes fixed on the wet spot in your underwear.

you had somewhat of an understanding of what was going on. usually when steve left you with these tingly wet feelings you would try to fix it with the stuffed bunny he gave you but it never seemed to work. your legs got tired , or you just couldn’t find the right place. it only left you frustrated.

feeling his hands smoothing over the inside of your thighs made your stomach flutter. “need your help, stevie. please. ” you whined, hips beginning to stir.

“such good manners.” he cooed, pushing your legs farther apart before letting both hands slide down your inner thighs. “gonna fix it for you, it’ll feel all better soon don’t you worry.”

you nodded sheepishly at his words, eyes fixed on the mirror. watching his hands ghost over your lower half.

after some time of touching you over your clothes he guided you to take them off. sliding the pristine white cotton off your legs, crumpling the pair up to stuff under his pillow for later.

“look at that.” he groaned, his fingers spreading you open to reveal your arousal covered cunt.

you had a hard time looking at yourself in such a lewd position, your body growing goosebumps from the image before you.

“steve..” you whined out, desperation growing.

“i’ve got you, princess. be patient.” steve instructed, fingers moving through your folds.

he spread the wetness around, index fingers sliding down and then back up. he was careful with your clit, pressing into it gently, making slow circles.

the new found sensation was much different than the vibration that came from his thigh, it pulled the most pitiful whines from you.

your hips bucked against his touch, eager for more.

“o-oh.. stevie. feels.” you stuttered a bit, head dropping back against his chest.

when he noticed you looked away the circling stopped, pressing his finger flat against the swollen peak. the harshness making you hiss.

“gotta keep your eyes open for me, princess. come on- “ he spoke calmly, free hand grabbing your chin to tilt it down so that you could see the mirror again. “there we go. look at this pretty pussy you have, all wet for me.”

you struggled to open them at first, almost embarrassed by the mess that was being made between your legs. that embarrassment quickly overcrowded by the haze that washed over you. the circling on clit becoming less gentle when he knew you could handle it.

he brought his legs up over yours, ankles pinning yours down so that you couldn’t close your legs. the sticky wet sounds echoed through his bedroom, coupling with the hushed pants that came from your open mouth.

“doing so good for me.” steve praised, kissing down the side of your neck, other hand coming up to squeeze at your chest.

moving his attention from your clit, he dragged his index finger down to your leaky opening. tracing the entrance with the tip of his finger before sliding inside.

the stretch wasn’t much but it caused you to mewl out, the sticky squelch only getting louder when he began to curl his finger. the feeling of him prodding against your spongey wet walls making your whole body tremble.

“ s’good stevie.” you hummed, hips rutting upward.

the heel of his palm pressed flat against your clit, providing a nice amount of pressure while his finger worked inside of you.

if you weren’t so wrapped up in your daze you would’ve felt the throbbing bulge pressed against your back. though steve didn’t seem to care about it either, far more focused on bringing you to your end.

soon that feeling started to become overwhelming. he tugged lightly on your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers. your body writhed from the attention given to both areas.

you whined, trying to clamp your thighs around his wrist but his heavy legs had yours trapped.

“ s’too much.” you panted, the pit in your stomach growing hotter and hotter.

he didn’t slow down, trying his best to coax the orgasm out of you. you were only seconds away.

“come on, sweet girl. just let it happen, it’s okay.” he spoke against your skin, planting wet kisses across your jaw.

his voice brought you a bit of comfort, comfort enough to stop fighting off the orgasm begging to come through. within seconds of his permission you were trembling.

“oh! oh fuck— steve!” you squeaked, climax hitting you like a truck.

he removed his legs from yours, allowing you to finally squeeze your thighs shut around his wrist. your hips rutting upwards against his hand, trembling and whimpering your way through it.

he kept his hands on you until you settled, sliding the his finger out of you to then collect some of the arousal that dripped onto your thighs.

“here.” he spoke, slipping the slick covered finger into your mouth. “clean my fingers up for me.”

you did as you were told, sucking the wetness off, moaning at the taste. once clean, steve pulled his fingers away, grabbing at the back of your head to tilt it so that you could look up at him.

he leaned down, the tip of his nose brushing against your as he spoke. “you did so good for me, princess. are feeling better now?”

he waited for you to nod before attaching his lips to yours, tonguing the inside of your mouth to get a taste of the mess you’d made.

you laid limp against him, body exhausted from the event. he wanted to hold you but knew he had to get back downstairs.

“come on.” he sat up, guiding you off the bed with him. “let’s go back to our friends i’m sure they’re missing us.”

you stood, smoothing down your wrinkled skirt. you looked around the room for your underwear but they seemed to have gone missing.

“b-but my .. panties. i lost em.” you pouted, crossing your legs and wincing at the wet noises that came from your thighs squishing together.

“you don’t need em, baby. they’re not gonna know, we’ll put a blanket over you. “ steve smiled, taking your hand to begin guiding you back to the den.

you huffed, following behind him like you always did. nervous that they’d somehow be able to recognize what just happened to you.

[daniifanz]

I don’t see people discussing Zion’s parents and just how supportive they were prepared to be for him, Ginny, and Georgia. I know they aren’t shown much in the show but for the moments that they are, I was very elated. They literally embraced 15 year old, homeless, Georgia into their family and set up a solid support system with a QUICKNESS!!! And even thought it’s not what Zion or Georgia wanted, their proposal for legal guardian ship was smart and considerate! That way the kids didn’t have to technically give up custody, all 3 of them would have been supported into getting they’re lives on track for a better future and Ginny would’ve grown up in a structured, stable, and loving environment. (And when Zion and Georgia were no longer teenagers and had gotten on their feet then the legal guardianship that Zion’s parents would have had, would have ended!) Even after Zion wanted to go back on the agreed terms of his gap year with his parents, they still pulled through, ready to be there for their son and this poor 15 year old girl and their coming grandchild. Plus it’s very rare to see black family dynamics in media portrayed in a positive light where the family isn’t struggling with poverty or missing one parent or riddled with stereotypes of drugs, abuse, and gangs etc. It’s nice to see a black family doing well for once and literally no one is talking about it.

EDIT: just wanna say I wrote this post about season 1 and I’m so glad they touched on the topic in season 2 . It was nice to see more of Zion’s family and hear about their feelings on Georgia’s decision to leave in the past. And we got to see Georgia reflect on it too! Lots of hurt, pain, and anger on both sides but no hate. I really liked the added conversation between Ginny and her grandmother where she clarifies that she doesn’t hate Georgia just that she’s still angry with her. I think the writers accomplished a pretty genuine and realistic representation of how Ginny’s grandparents and Georgia would be feeling. The tension, regret, and anger and worry… even Lynette’s petty jabs at Georgia at Christmas dinner! Like we get why she’s upset and provoking Georgia a little bit she doesn’t hate her (to me i would say that Zion’s parents do still care about Georgia and love her as a person). And GOSH it hurt to see Georgia getting roasted like that IN HER OWN HOME, that she had to excuse herself to check her emotions. Because we know Georgia was just in survival mode and and we know Georgia kind of regrets putting her kids through all that. Ughhh the writers really popped off this season and I hope we get a season 3 because I would love to see Georgia and Zion’s parents have a heart to heart about the past, hug it out and see each other’s perspectives. Maybe even talk about being more involved in Ginny’s life in the future (and Austin’s life because YES I did see how they interacted with him and I think they’d be a positive influence on both kids. They’d benefit from the stability.) I’m loving hearing everyone else’s thoughts so please continue the conversation 🥹🫶🏾

[metalheads-trash-bin]

!! MORE NOTES FOR TROLLS FANFIC WRITERS!!

These consist of observations, facts, and headcanons :)

Volcano Rock City

Riff & rock trolls:

Breathy giggle, shy almost

At college for musical theory/art

Immune to lava - see it like hot water

Change in music doesnt change where they were raised w - (Pink heart, but diff style)

Volcano rock city arenas lava is now rainbow to show all genres

High fives show harmony and connection

Daycare in pop village - poppy teaches them the history of the whole world tour situation w barb as a guest

Riff uses air drums w drumsticks to dance w head bobbing when just chill dancing

Hard dancing is ofc what you think it is

Riff has three siblings, hes the favorite sibling since hes the baby. He spends time with his mom. He has two sisters and one brother. The brother is the eldest.

Food item: Fiber energy juice boxes

Barbs full name is Barbara

Creek notes:

Creek being creek “a little positivity would go well with that vest.”

Gets grabbed by chef

Chef forces creek into king gristles mouth

Creek figures out how to prevent himself being killed, calling out and gristle spitting him out. Creek begs for his life.

He strikes up a deal with chef. Through that hes taken out of the amulet for good.

Chef catches the snack pack, putting them back into the cage.

Chef pulls out creek, and they have the whole strangle moment.

Creek tells them he sold out everyone, showing no remorse so they dont try rescuing him. He even says to her theres no other “not him getting eaten” way, and chef agrees.

Instead of poppy focusing on the kingdom she becomes empathetic towards Bridget, turning back after being let go and helping her out. Poppy explains to the bergens that theres other ways to be happy. Then demonstrates that.

The bergens believe her, having a happy ending where they realize they dont need to eat trolls.

Chef gets rocketed out on a grill, creek in her fanny pack. She tries to eat him, the creature below them waking up. They get eaten by said monster.

“If poppy had only listened to you, if she took you seriously..if we all did. This would’ve never happened. If she just focused on the kingdom and not saving me, you all could’ve escaped and ran off. Finding a new haven. I know in the end it was a good plan..and lead to good things. But..she didn’t know that, no one did. You all almost died.”

“I’m sorry I never took you seriously, I’m..so sorry branch.”

Mount Rageous- rage dome

Bruce canonically listens to true crime podcasts

Jds canon in the sad book club

Floyd had a canon solo career

Mount rageous has an adult area called “the bowl” under the clouds

Floyd worked there doing modeling, playboy esque. Alongside singing solos in bdsm clubs

Teens found out eventually as gossip is.

Scarring under JDs gloved hand

Branch cracks under pressure after introducing floyd to creek, spiraling in front of poppy and sobbing to her about his feelings on everything. She panics and tries problem solving, branch snapping and then them walking away. They came back to eachother the next day, talking it out and deciding health wise its best to just be friends. They became platonic soulmates to eachother like riff and barb, the separation and experience of being together bringing them closer anyhow. Being in different levels of life just, cant work long term.

Creek says things like “Mother Destiny” or “Mother” as his connection to the earth.

John Dorys first thing when the gang separated was neverglade trail

Johns killed someone, he followed them on a hike and tried bashing their head with a rock. The person had a self defense pocket knife because of the wild animals. They slashed his left hand, john trying to push them off a cliff (waterfall cliff). Person grips onto his jacket, pleading for their life and how they dont understand what they did to deserve this, hanging off the cliff only not falling because hes gripping onto johns jacket. Johns gripping the ground, reaching for a rock and smashing their eye until they let go. Person falls, not dying because the water wasnt shallow enough. He runs down with a hunting knife, stabbing the guy to death. This was his first kill, only doing it so he could eat as he was struggling.

Edit: BY EAT I MEAN GETTING MONEY AS HE WAS A HITMAN NOT A CANNIBAL AAAAGHHHHH

Doug is the lawyer jd’s acquainted with at the bowl since hes the only lawyer that handles other species disputes.

Jd loves fish, especially fish sandwiches.

Notes on trolls three and poppy:

poppy seems super pushy and non empathetic to branch, literally appearing as if she cant put herself in someone else’s shoes.

2. She consistently tests his comfort and boundaries. Even being manipulative in some instances to get him to do what she wants.

3: it seems like she was more interested in investing in JD and the mission because they’re BroZone, not because she cared about branch or his trauma.

4. Yes at sometimes she comforted him and convinced him to continue with the mission, but that doesn’t make up for her lack of empathy simply because she shows sympathy.

5. I understand being a huge fan of BroZone, but some of her behaviors absolutely cross the comfort of the members. JD kept the funderwears for memorabilia, not because of some scent thing. Yet poppy’s borderline lustful reaction implies she would’ve kept them for that reason.

6. Sometimes she still struggles to listen to him, projecting her familial issues onto him and saying how grateful he should be. She was so fixated on the facf she craves more from her family, that she couldn’t even fathom the fact someone wouldn’t like their family members or have a more complicated relationship.

These are all of course little things, but they can build up and they can cause long term built up issues. It’s saddening to see that even if they sorted out her not listening to him, she still has a lot she needs to fix. And Branch, especially after all of his trauma being forcibly resurfaced, most likely can’t handle all of her flaws she needs to work on.

These all were brought up to her when they separated, she didn’t react the best initially until a few days later when she finally gained some sort of empathy and guilt for her neglect towards my brother.

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hi Slug!

Could you translate positive my life, please? 🥺🥺

Hello Slug. I hope this finds you well but may I ask if you may be able to translate Hifumis solo, “ポジティブ my life” from the Block Party album? Thank you very much.

Sure thing! Under a cut for length.

The playful tone is crucial to the source, so a similar goofiness is present in the translation. With that said, I'm not adding anything extra for silliness. Some light fluffing on vague lines to convey (what I'm understanding as) the meaning. No attention paid to line length, rhyme, or rhythm.

Heya, friendos! (Hey there, Hifumi!) Hm? Gosh, you seem like a bunch of gloomy Guses today. Wait, I have an idea! Let's play a game! I'm logging in to Buddy Quest and speedrunning character creation so we can get to the open world and goof off! (Heck yeah!) We gotta turn all those frowns upside down. So what're we gonna do? Set off on an adventure to make new friends! I may not be able to claim the hero's sword. I may not have it in me to smile all the time. But my friendships and the good vibes we make together are the best equipment I could ever ask for. Yeah, yeah, yeah! There's no one like my party! We're friends! (Friends!) And even if we lose at the end of the day, we still all have each other. I cast SMILE. It's super effective! Next thing you know, you're one of us--YOU have joined the party! A full, amazing party! (We! Are! Hoods!) If you're a top player? Sweet! Let's live it up tonight! Yeepers, that was a close one. Almost ran out of HP! (Positive! Up! My life!) Or if you're more of a novice? No sweat. We'll carry you! Either way, let's "positive up" my life! (And yours!) [1] All righty! We're kilin' it. Keep it up, gang! Next up: lemme run you through how I "positive up" my life. Step 1: Take a cool selfie, upload it to the character creator, and let the game handle the rest. See? Looks just like me. (Sure does!) Step 2: Forget the haters. If the vibes are rancid, I don't wanna hear it! (Yeah, yeah!) Step 3: We all have tough days sometimes. But you gotta try to smile anyway. Because you're braved and you're loved, y'know? Once you realize how much your friends care for you, I know you'll get back up and keep fighting that good fight! (Get 'em, Hifumin!) Step 4: Sometimes, you just can't get past that next level. But don't you ever give up. Hit that CONTINUE button, you hear? (Positive! Up! My Life!) Because we still all have each other and the good vibes we make together in our full, amazing party! (We! Are! Hoods!) Ah ha! So you're the final boss. [2] Say, you know what? You wanna be friends? (Positive! Up! My life!) We can still beat the game together, and no one has to get hurt this way. So what do you say? "Positive up" my life? (And yours?)

[1] There's a slight joke/nuance here that I'm a bit stumped as to how to convey naturally in English. The terms he uses to describe different playing styles (魅せプ) (lit. enchanting play style) and (姫プ) (lit. princess play style) are evocative of his host role as someone who "enchants" clients often referred to as princesses. This suggests he's speaking to a woman, which ties into the final verse of the song that uses the same format. [2] Not the same "you" he's singing to in the song. The difference in tone suggests it's Honobono.