#just a bunch of ideas that I just decided to word vomit out

[whohasthecards]

Bradley, Bob, & Jake as Brothers

Just imagining the dynamic if these three because of the Dagger Squad and Mav and Ice began started to bond.

Bradley: An only child who was suddenly given 2 baby brothers.

Goose and Carol's only son, became a Mama's boy

After Goose died, the class of '86 helped chip in to raise him, meaning before they settled in with their own families he got the attention of so many uncles.

Mav of course took the most active role, basically being the father-figure to Bradley after Goose died. Bradley sees him more as a dad than Goose, that's why it hurt so much when Mav pulled his papers.

Then suddenly, the mission happened, they turn into a permanent squadron, and wow is Mav bringing Jake and Bob around more and more.

Hmmm, so Bob's former squadron giving him some trouble? No they're not.

Goddammit, Jake, give that back, right now!

Bradley: Hangman's the worst, selfish prick (Jake ate his leftovers). Some guy: Yeah, the guy's a fucking selfish assho- Bradley: What the fuck did you just say?

Bob: The youngest child given an older brother that actually pays attention to him and a younger brother that he needs to protect.

Big age difference between him and his siblings, he's the baby, was born when his siblings were already teenagers and young adults, focused on their own lives than him.

He was spoiled and loved by his family though, but they couldn't give him a lot of time and attention. His siblings were building their own lives, his parents were getting older, and he was an "easy kid". Bob was quiet, easy to please, easy to ignore.

When he said he wanted to join the Navy, his family was not supportive and doubted his ability. Deeply hurt him.

Then Bradley came, who would actually listen to him. Ruffle his hair and offer to hang out with him. They would play instruments together and stuff. Who defended him against his former squadron when they were making fun of him.

Then there was Jake who loved poking fun at him, but never in a mean way. Who would forget to eat when he was busy or having fun, making him have to shove fruit snacks in his mouth. Who would simultaneously teach and make fun of him when playing pool.

Bob: Come on, Rooster, not the hair (Bob rolled his eyes as Bradley ruffled his hair) Bradley: Awww, you're taking after Jakey, caring about your hair so much. Bob: Well, we actually want to look presentable (scrunches his nose at Bradley's Hawaiian shirt) Bradley: How rude.

Jake: The forcibly responsible, yet ignored middle-child, being given 2 older brothers who are protective of him, and finally gives him the chance to be free.

Jake is the middle child, have two older siblings and one younger sibling. His parents were neglectful, did not care enough.

He and his siblings used to be tight, but due to circumstances falls apart.

His older brother is a Navy SEAL, but suffers from PTSD, when he's on leave, he gets into trouble and drinks too much. He has to bail his brother out a couple of times.

His older sister began to be distant, he doesn't know where she is, she sends money and calls every now and then, but she started a new life. Whenever Jake asks for help, she refuses, claiming that Jake is strong and smart enough, that he can do it. (Jake simultaneously can't blame her and is resentful of her)

His younger sister needs financial support since she's just a teenager, she's in college right now and Jake is extremely proud of her. Just lonely as well. She's doing well for herself, Jake wants to protect her innocence. He acts more like her dad than their dad ever was.

Jake always has to be the rock, steady and strong. He's just tired.

He's a twenty-something, and he wants to be a twenty-something, careless and free. Fuck up and have fun every once in a while.

Then Bradley and Bob comes in.

He can't help but allow himself to play around with them, mess with them, tease them. They make him let his guard down, it's fun being around them, he's not responsible of them outside of being their teammate.

And they actually pay attention to him, and dote over him. He grumbles about them being overprotective or being too much of a mother hen, but he's sad whenever they hesitate to ruffle his hair, wondering if they were overstepping.

Maybe one day, he'll tell them about his family.

Jake (sinks 8-ball in): HAH! I won this game Bobert, pay up Bob (rolls his eyes as he pushes the cup of peanuts towards Jake): Eat up, you mean. Bradley (Ruffles Jake's hair): You gotta let him win once in a while. Jake (pouts): But how will he learn? And plus, how else would I be able to get some peanuts?

[inheritedbelly]

Weight of Life on the Farm

Every year my father dragged me to the family’s farm in the middle of nowhere. I never understood his obsession with the countryside, with the woods, with the mud. It was all disgusting and dirty. But nothing, absolutely nothing, was worse than the great-uncle himself, his uncle. A gross old man, in his seventies, and a retired truck driver. The first time I saw Uncle Frank, I had to hold back from vomiting. He was the kind of person who takes pride in being gross, you know? The kind of person who finds humor in being filthy. He would fart loudly, sneeze as if he were about to die, and didn't even bother to cover his mouth. And that smell? My God, it was as if the stench had been absorbed into his skin. It was a smell of old sweat, mixed with cigarette smoke and a bunch of other things I didn’t even want to imagine. I'll never forget the time he walked past me in the hallway and laughed when he saw me covering my nose. "Smell of a man, kid, get used to it!" he shouted, as if it were something to be proud of. Disgusting. Besides that, Uncle Frank made a point of always walking around the house in his underwear as if his body were toned and healthy—pathetic. That’s exactly what he was. Every summer was the same: I was forced to face the filth, the heat, the insects, and worst of all, Uncle Frank.

I was already counting the days to go back to the city, to my life, to the air conditioning, and away from the smell of the countryside. But my father had other plans. He wanted to make a Sunday lunch, but we were short on ingredients, so he decided that I should go with Frank to the neighboring town to buy some things. My father had an annoying insistence that I get along with my uncle. Of course, I would have much preferred to stay locked in my room rather than go in that old car, but as usual, I had no choice. At least I convinced him to let me wear something decent. There I was, in the passenger seat, trying not to breathe deeply, while Uncle Frank drove. The heat was suffocating, and his smell mixed with the old leather of the car made me want to open the door and jump out.

The drive to the town was hell. The dirt road shook the car, and every time Uncle Frank tried to make small talk, I only responded with monosyllables. There was absolutely nothing I wanted to discuss with him. But of course, the old man didn’t know when to stop. He started complaining about the city, how young people today didn’t know what real work was. I couldn’t take it anymore. We started arguing, and I didn’t hold back. He was an old-fashioned fool and had no idea what he was talking about. As if life in the countryside were something to be proud of. We were so wrapped up in the argument that we didn’t even notice when the sky suddenly darkened. A deafening thunderclap split the air, and suddenly, everything turned white.

When I woke up, the first thing I felt was a strange pressure in my stomach. What the hell was happening? My vision was still blurry, but I felt something was wrong. Very wrong… My hand instinctively went to my belly, but it wasn’t my hand. It was a thick, calloused hand, full of prominent veins and white hairs—a hand that seemed to have spent a lifetime carrying weight. And what was pressing on my stomach? My God, the steering wheel was sunk into a huge, round, hairy belly. What the hell was that? I looked down and almost screamed. A monstrous belly was there, where my smooth abdomen used to be. I could taste the sweat dripping from a mustache that had magically appeared above my mouth.

An unbearable heat enveloped me, and I realized I was sweating. A lot. As if I had just come out of an oven. The clothes clung to my body, sweat dripped down my face, neck, and back. I was drenched, and that stench, that disgusting smell, was coming from me. My breathing became heavy, and that’s when I heard a curse word in my old voice. I looked to the side and saw my body, my face, with an expression of pure terror. It was Uncle Frank. He was in my body, looking at me as if he had seen a ghost, but soon a wicked smile began to form on his lips.

— What did you do? — I shouted, or at least tried to. My voice came out hoarse, choked, like an old man’s. I put my hands to my throat, feeling the roughness of the skin, the hair on the chest. This couldn’t be happening. It had to be a nightmare. I tried to move, but the body was heavy, slow.I could feel my balls, or rather, Uncle Frank's balls, sticking with sweat between my legs.

— It wasn’t me! — my uncle, now in my body, said with my voice, equally surprised. — But damn, this isn’t half bad.

I was about to vomit. I tried to get up, but the weight of the new body threw me back into the seat. The steering wheel was pressing into the belly, which seemed to have a life of its own, jiggling with every movement. I finally managed to get up, feeling the sweat dripping down my back, and looked at Uncle Frank, who was now admiring his own reflection in the car’s mirror, in my body. He was running his hands through his hair and over my clean skin.

— What are we going to do now? — my voice was desperate, and he just shrugged. — Go back home, I guess. — he said, still admiring his own reflection. The idea of going back to the farm in this body was unbearable. I could barely move, each step was an effort. The heat was suffocating, the smell of sweat was unbearable, and the feeling of the coarse beard rubbing against my neck was nauseating. I was sweating so much that my shirt was already soaked, sticking to my skin. But what irritated me the most was the old man’s grin. He was clearly enjoying himself, as if he had won the lottery. And me? I was trapped in this hellish body, with no idea how to get out of it.

In the car, I realized I had to adjust my posture to adapt to my new center of gravity. My man-boobs spilled out of the tight tank top that my uncle wore. The fat sweat dripping from the mustache was the worst thing after the giant belly. On the way back, I tried to think of how to tell my parents, but who would believe such a story? “Hi, Mom, Dad, so, I swapped bodies with Uncle Frank.” They would send me to a mental institution. So my uncle and I agreed not to tell anyone until we figured out a way to fix this. I hoped at least to wake up in the morning back in my body, hoping this would all end.

I woke up with that dry cough that felt like it was tearing my throat out from the inside. Nothing like a natural wake-up. I rubbed my sweaty forehead, trying to push away the feeling of fatigue that had been with me for months. I slowly raised my torso, feeling the familiar pressure of the mattress sinking under my weight, while scratching my belly. The rough skin stretched over the accumulated fat was something I had never managed to get used to. It wasn’t my body. It wasn’t what I should be feeling. But there I was, in that damned body, exactly one year later. I got up from the sofa, where Uncle Frank was sleeping, with the feeling of discomfort that had been accompanying me. The feeling of discomfort that came only from the extra weight he now carried. The tight underwear revealed a raging morning erection, something that became one of the few things that relieved me early in the morning. Every day I masturbated, and after orgasm I felt disgusted and repulsed, because the first thing I saw was my uncle's disheveled, hairy belly.

I went to the bathroom to clean myself up, each step making the floor creak under Uncle Frank's weight, which was now mine. I stared at the reflection in the mirror, as I did every morning. That old man, with reddish skin, unshaven beard, and deep-set eyes, stared back at me. I sighed as I always did. I started thinking. It had been exactly a year since the swap, and there was still no sign that it could be undone. I tried to maintain some level of dignity, even trapped in this repugnant body. I took showers, unlike Uncle Frank, and used deodorant. At least I tried to keep the smell under control, which was an ungrateful task, considering this body sweated non-stop. And the gas? It was hell. It was as if all the bad air in the world had accumulated in my stomach, with no escape.

Meanwhile, Uncle Frank seemed to adapt perfectly to my body, and my life. I saw his photos, now on my social media profile, showing off my body on the internet. Each image was a punch to my gigantic stomach. A reminder of everything I had lost. He was happy, smiling, enjoying life, like a city boy, while I was here, trapped in this old carcass. In addition to my routine masturbations, I still managed to pay some twinks to have sex with me. No one wanted to be with me anymore, not for free.

I sighed once again, wondering if I would ever be able to undo the curse. Or was he doomed to be a disgusting old man forever? I reached out and tapped her belly, feeling the soft flesh bounce on impact. It was surreal to still feel the repulsion when touching my own skin. But there wasn't much time to mourn. It was time to start another day of routine on the farm, in Uncle Rank's body. I opened the buttons on the front of my t-shirt so it wouldn't be so hot, I hated the feeling of my belly fighting against my clothes. As soon as I got dressed I was hard again, oh my, my body was massive and sometimes it ended up turning me on. My old dick hurt from so much moonshine against my huge dirty underwear. But I decided I should work, maybe Frank's twink helper would relieve me later if I paid him some money to suck me. Another day of pretending there was still a chance to get back what was taken from me.

[blehrbie-blog]

Neteyam x Reader story

Sooo, I haven't written anything in genuine years. But after watching Avatar:TWOW I've become hyperfixated and have been scrolling and refreshing the Neteyam x Reader tag basically since the movie came out. As a consequence I've had this idea in the back of my mind that I thought was very sweet and cute (something we all need after that movie) so I decided to sit down and give it a go and see what comes out of my brain. So here it is. I haven't properly edited it and it's pretty much a 1000 words of word vomit and a bunch of time skips but it made me happy to write so I'm sharing it.

Oh, BTW SPOILERS!! but also I don't stick to the event's of the movie so idk I'm just putting it out there in case someone hasn't watched the trailer.

So the idea is our girl meets Neteyam informally for the first time when they're 9. She gets cornered in the jungle by a Palulukan and Neteyam helps her run away from it. She had always known who he is being the firstborn son of the Toruk Makto. She remembers her mom telling her about the big ceremony the Tribe had when he was first born. Everyone knew him.

- You shouldn't go into Palulukan territory without being careful - he says, looking a bit unsure about her now that there's no imminent danger.

- I didn't know I was in its territory

 - Don't wander off too far on your own then.

___________________________

After this meeting, you get closer and become friends, which means as a consequence you occasionally hang out with the rest of Neteyam's family. However, as he gets older and his Dad starts preparing him to be a warrior and later on Lo'ak as well you don't have as much time to spend as you once did laughing and roaming around in the jungle exploring thick forests and shallow pools of water. It's not like you have nothing to do with your life, you do! You've been thinking of taking up lessons from the Tsahik, to see how you can use the spirit of Eywa and nature to help people who are hurting. It just so happens that the Tsahik is Neteyam's grandmother so you sometimes end up seeing him come back from a mission with his father and you share sweet smiles from across the camp.

When the tribe moves to the floating rocks, you are required by the Tsahik to help those injured from the journey and the ones getting used to the new terrain. So you're even more often in the same circles. As you're working one day about to go over to help Ninat with her sprained ankle, someone taps you on the shoulder

-You seem busy with work. - says Neteyam smiling sweetly at you

-Oh! Yes, I was just about to start. How's your training going?

You hadn't spoken in a while, just a quick wave or nod when crossing paths throughout the day. You hadn't noticed but he towers over you by a couple inches now. He nods towards his dad who's speaking with Neytiri at the edge of their tent.

-You know, just the usual responsibilities of carrying on the legacy. - His eyes gaze into you softly, like he's memorizing your face after not seeing it for long. He shakes it off and looks down - Have you got many tasks today?

-Not too much actually, just need to check up on Ninat and prepare some medicinal salves.

- I want to see you later – He looks back up into your eyes and smiles – Maybe we can go on one of our expeditions like before.

You chuckle – Sure, I'd love that.

With a final nod of approval, he stalks away to his parent's side.

When you meet later towards sunset he's waiting patiently with his Ikran by the vines connecting the Hallelujah Mountains to the Jungle below.

-We won't go too far out into the jungle so we have time to come back before sunrise. - He says as he connects his Queue with the Ikran and gazes at you expectantly – Hop on.

Can I trust that I'll come back alive from this flight? - you raise a skeptical eyebrow. He only went through his Iknimaya ritual not too long ago.

He reaches out a hand to help you up onto the animal – I don't think Eywa would forgive me if I wasted you on a simple flight.

You smile warmly into his shoulder as you hold tight onto him feeling the powerful animal shift under you as you fly out.

Roughly 10 years later

____________________________

When he comes back from the Mitkayina islands. He's taller and broader and his hair is much longer pulled into a loose braid around his Queue. You have a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach when you first see him. He's magnificent and commanding in his presence. The tribe has gathered all around to accept him and Jake back with a warm welcome. And even though you're hidden by your fellow Na'vi, his eyes immediately find you in the crowd and issue an eager and warm smile on his face.

As soon as he has settled the greetings with the current Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik, he finds you – walking to your sleeping pod. You would have gone to say hello and see him up close but, honestly, you were a bit intimidated. What you now knew was a childhood infatuation with him all those years ago still couldn't handle seeing him all of a sudden in all his... perfect glory. You were a little intimidated. But that doesn't stop him from reaching out for you. You see him jog over with a grin. He grabs you by the shoulders about to pull you into a hug but stops himself at the last moment. His eyes roam you over from head to toe and he looks up with glistening eyes -You've grown! - His tone sounds almost unbelieving

-That tends to happen as time passes, yes – you chuckle, hands coming up to hold onto his arms. His strong arms.

-I'm not too sure what I expected you to look like but you're... way beyond any expectation – He sounds so awe-struck as he's still taking you in, that you start to feel a little embarrassed.

-I can say the exact same thing – You say as you meet his gaze again. As you do his face softens and he brings you into his arms finally.

-I missed you, my friend.

Your hand caresses his hair gently – I missed you too.

You break apart and you decide to go for some late food with him abandoning your plans of sleep.

_______________________

Months later, when they have their first kiss. It's a slow thing. He will say something dry-humoured in his soft voice and she'll forget to laugh too busy staring at him, realizing how in love she is. And has been all these years. And when he notices that she hasn't replied he'll look at her and know immediately. That she's realized, at last. And he'll come to hold her like she's the most precious thing in his world. He'll thread his fingers through her hair bringing her face close to his. Forehead pressed to hers, patiently waiting for her to join him in the reality he has been living. Where they have loved each other for a while, longed and missed unbelievably because of it, and are finally able to bask in it. The warm smiles and looks, the casual closeness that not being apart allows. The things he has been dreaming of. He looks at her lips and back at her eyes, pulling back slightly to give her some space. Maybe she's not entirely understanding his feelings, maybe she's too caught up in her own to recognize his signs, he thinks, ready to give her all the time- When she grabs his neck and drags him back to her. - Neteyam... – her eyes are glossy like she's about to cry. So he caresses her cheeks gently and finally presses their lips sweetly together. And he can not compare it to any other feeling he has ever experienced. It's not like loving her, that's easy and at the same time overwhelming. It has brought him to the point that he is ready to lay down his life and all of his family's expectations to travel back to the tribe just to see her. To be reunited. But this feeling, this kiss is like knowing, that he won't be alone in his love and he can give her his all, his soul. They stay there, lost in the sweetness of being together like never before until the sun has long set and the moon has long risen.

_______________________

That is it! I do realise I keep skipping between tenses, I apologise if anyone finds it annoying and hope you enjoyed!

Edit: I thought it might be useful to put a link to part 2 down here so: Next

[toruro]

arguing w soonyoung but he decides to push you against the wall and see you flustered while he slowly starts fingering you, like “what? why are you so shy, hm?”

↳ pairing. k. soonyoung x reader ↳ tags. smut (18+) ↳ a/n. the way i literally can’t think after reading this wtf okay sorry this might just be completely word vomit helpp

“you aren’t listening to me,” soonyoung groans out, leaning back against the kitchen counter. your eyes are on the brink of tears but you furiously blink them away, refusing to relent.

“you aren’t listening to me,” you retort, bringing up two fingers to pinch the bridge of your nose. you aren’t sure what you two even started arguing about, but now it’s cumulated into a bunch of little tiny things that has you both going back and forth.

you’re sure there isn’t any meaning to his words, honestly, but you can’t help but grow intimidated and increasingly upset about the whole situation. nothing is quite making sense to you when he’s spewing out his next list of words, but this time it all goes in one ear and out the other.

you hardly even comprehend the words that are coming out of your own response, but whatever it is it must be pretty fucking intense because it has soonyoung’s eyes darkening.

this entire time, there’s been a good amount of space between you two, but now he’s marching over to you and pushing you into the wall. his touch, while slightly rough, is oddly gentle, and there’s hardly any force in the way he basically manhandles you.

“soonyoung, what are you—” your voice is hoarse as you glance down at his arm that’s secured at your waist. there’s a little bit of an idea of where this is going in your mind, but you aren’t sure if soonyoung is willing to make it go in the direction.

of course, he is.

your cheeks burn with heat as he roughly rubs his hand against your clothed core, palm dragging against your clot while his fat fingers push against the folds of your cunt. “s-soonyoung—” you try to mutter, but your voice comes out wobbly and soonyoung smirks.

you can’t deny the growing wetness that’s forming between your thighs, and you can only hope that he doesn’t catch on to the way soonyoung and anger make for a very hot duo.

“what, baby?” soonyoung coos as you stutter out his name. sneaking a hand down the waistband of your shorts and panties, a smirk makes his way onto his face when he feels your warm, wet core. “you were just saying something earlier…what was it again?”

he watches your face contort into pleasure—albeit your attempts to subdue it—and the his eyes literally sparkle at the way he has you at his mercy.

“you were just saying how i’m not listenin’ to you,” soonyoung murmurs, bringing his head down to place a kiss on your neck, not giving any warning before sinking one finger into your drooling pussy. your body jerks at the familiar sensation of soonyoung’s deft finger rubbing against your warm, gummy walls.

you let out a small, involuntary moan when he slips in a second finger, and by this point you can’t even remember why you were even mad at soonyoung in the first place.

was it the dishes in the sink?

did he keep forgetting to turn off the lights?

what does it matter if he’s fucking you with his fingers so good that it has you blanking out, thoughts consumed with only him: soonyoung, soonyoung, soonyoung—fuck.

you cry out when soonyoung curls his fingers in a way that has you writhing under his touch, and he takes this has his chance to gently bite down on your neck. your soft moans have turning into louder ones, your high pitched squeaks echoing through the room.

soonyoung pulls his swollen, puffy lips away from the crook of your neck to look down at you with lustful, loving eyes. “i’m not listening to you, huh?” he murmurs, speeding up his fingers when he hears you whine out his name. “seems like i’m hearing you pretty well.” soonyoung leans in once more, his lips brushing against your earlobe. “and it seems like you want a whole lot more.”

a/n: please let me know if u liked it and likecommentreblog for a kiss <;33

[bellysoupset]

Omg Max is such a sweetheart I loveee him!! Please can we get a part 2!!

She looked like Snow White, Max decided, as he sat in the little chair that was adjacent to Vince's dining table and separated his bedroom area from the kitchen.

Wendy was curled up in the bed, having all but blacked out the minute he dragged her inside of Vince's place. Max had found a mixing bowl and planted it on the ground next to her, managed to get a pillow under her head and well... That was it. He had no idea what else to do.

He had texted Vince, but the texts were marked as not received and Max didn't know if this was because Vince was driving or because he had no signal... Either way, Max couldn't just leave her.

On the bed, Wendy let out a groan and rolled on her side, curling up. Max was up in a second, unsure if he should step closer or not, so he just stood there in the most awkward way, whispering "Wendy?"

She stirred once more, the let out something close to a sob and Max couldn't just do nothing, so he tiptoed closer, crouching next to the bed, "hey..." he whispered, pushing the hair away from her eyes. Her face was scrunched up with pain, clammy with nausea as well, eyes squeezed shut, "you need anything?"

"Where- Where is Vin?" Wendy's voice was raspy, thick with tears she was trying and failing to keep at bay.

"He's coming," Max lied, hoping it wasn't a lie. He rubbed her arm, "can I-"

He never quite finished the sentence, because Wendy's bottom lip wobbled and she let out a pitiful sniffle, curling into a little ball and starting to openly cry.

"Shit, no, please don't cry..." Max planted a hand on her back, mentally cursing as she continued to sob like a family member had just died. Between her sobbing, though, Max could hear a mumbled mess of words, Vince's name and something about not being fair.

He was so not equipped to deal with this.

Under his hand, suddenly, Wendy's body jerked and Max heard clearly as a sob turned into a hiccup, followed by a whimper. He cringed, "hold on, I got you-" Max rolled her over the edge and brought up the bowl, holding it under her chin just in time to catch a thin dribble of vomit, "there you go..." he cooed and Wendy let out another small noise, more tears falling and causing his stomach to sink. Max was certain he was messing this up, he just hoped he wasn't hurting her.

Outside, he heard the roar of Vince's motorcycle, and Max's head snapped up, just as Wendy's let out an anguished noise and grabbed the pillow, smothering her face with it.

The door opened as Vince entered, carrying a bunch of groceries in one arm and his helmet in the other... Then he frowned, "what the hell?"

"Thank God you're-" Max cut himself short as his voice caused Wendy to whimper, reminding himself to lower it, "I don't know what to do," he whispered, gesturing to Wendy, while Vince dropped everything he was carrying on top of the couch and walked closer.

Max was very, very aware Vince was a big guy, but he hadn't truly seen him as threatening until this moment, as Monacelli towered over him with a big frown pulling his brows together and his lips down, arms crossed, "What happened?"

The blonde cringed, getting up from the edge of the bed quickly and moving away from the bed as fast and as much as the small room allowed him, "she's sick," he whispered, "I found her on the side of the road," a shorter version of the truth, "headache."

Vince's frown wasn't vanishing, but rather morphing into something different. He got closer to the bed, sitting on the spot Max was previously occupying, and touching Wendy's arm, "Wen? Honey?"

She whimpered and Max realized the frown now was guilt. Vince gently pulled away the pillow Wendy was trying to suffocate herself to death with, smoothing her hair as if she was made out of porcelain, "honey," he whispered, "how bad is it? Hospital bad?"

Wendy opened her eyes, the tears having glued her lashes together, "where were you?"

If Max wasn't right there — in the corner of the room, feeling like an intruder — he would've thought Vince got punched, judging by the look on his face. His voice cracked slightly as he said, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm here now..." and leaned in, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "I'm gonna make it better."

He straightened up, letting out a breath, then stood up, "did she throw up?" Vince whispered, moving around the house. He wasn't making a single noise as he opened a dresser and got out a t-shirt and some shorts, throwing them on the bed, then returned from the bathroom with a hand towel soaking wet.

"Yeah, a bunch," Max whispered, wishing the ground would disappear and swallow him up, "back in the road when I found her and just now too..." and he still stunk like Monster Energy, oh yeah.

"She didn't drink any water?" Vince folded the wet towel and pressed it to Wendy's forehead. Her relieved sigh was audible. Max shook his head, feeling a wave of guilt.

"She seemed too nauseous so-"

"Okay," Vince wasn't even glancing his way, moving in a fury around the room, side stepping him and filling up a plastic bottle covered in glitter and stars with water. That was definitely not for adults.

He walked back to the bed, moving Wendy slightly so his hand was on the back of her head, propping her up against his chest slowly, "honey," Vince whispered, lips pressed to her temple, "I want you to try and drink some water, okay?"

"Noooo," Wendy turned her head, burying her face against her boyfriend's stomach, "not-not gon' stay down..."

Vince squeezed her a bit more, "we need to try just a little bit, sweetheart," he rolled her back, then waved his hand at Max, gesturing for him to come closer.

Eager to be useful, Max nearly tripped over himself, "yeah?"

"Drawer," Vince mouthed, pointing his bedside table, not making any sound. Max opened it, then looked at him quizzically, as Vince pointed a green and white bottle inside of it. He raised in front of the man's eyes and Vin nodded in approval, raising one single finger, before continuing to rub Wendy's arm in a soothing manner.

Max got one white pill in his palm, just as Vince said, "one big gulp for the meds and I'm going to let you sleep, okay Wen?"

She let out a little mewl sound, but whatever that meant Vince clearly took it an affirmation, because he took the pill from Max's hand, pushing it against Wendy's lip and then bringing the toddler bottle.

Max watched in apprehension, half convinced she was going to choke or puke it up, but Wendy gulped down the meds, then greedily took another gulp, before curling back up, pressing her forehead to the cold towel and going completely still.

What now?

The room was dead quiet and Max wanted to pace around, but he knew that wouldn't help, "I'm gonna go get her car," he whispered, grabbing Wendy's abandoned keys from the counter.

Vince's eyes snapped up, as if he had forgotten Max was there at all, then he nodded, the frown melting away for the first time since he had crossed over the threshold, a smile wrinkling his face and making Max realize he had vampy fangs, "thank you Max, really, thank you."

His stomach filled up with butterflies and Max cursed himself silently. So much for altruistic helping, uh?

"Yeah, uh-" his cheeks burned and he scratched at his beard, ready to bolt, "any time... I'll drop of her car and go home, alright? Unless you need anything?"

"No, we're alright... Thank you, man, I owe a big one."

"No, you don't," Max whispered, walking to the door, "but you do owe me a shirt, your girlfriend puked on mine."

[dreamwatch]

Get in the Van

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest

Day #5 - Prompt: On The Road | Word Count: 999 | Rating: T | CW: chronic pain, language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: None| Tags: band struggles, touring in a van, author is not American, geographic inacuracies (probably) | AO3

****

“Fuck!”

“It doesn’t matter how many times you kick the van, man, it’s not going to make it start!”

“Maybe he just needs to kick it harder.”

“Shut up!”

****

Wasn’t this just fucking amazing? Wasn’t this just indicative of the bad luck that followed him around like some looming spectre? They’ve only been out on the road a few weeks, just a handful of gigs before the van broke down. Now they’re stuck at the side of the road in Somewhere, Minnesota, with a van full of equipment, dirty laundry and soon to be broken dreams. 

It started in Evansville, with a bunch of locals who heard about the satanists showing up to play their 'devil music' and decided to give them a warm welcome; there are dents and scratches all over the van that are definitely not going to buff out.

Then in St. Louis they had an amazing show, like objectively fucking brilliant. Eddie knows for a fact there was some local music journalist in the crowd, too. So of course that was the night Jeff’s amp decided it wasn’t just going to give up, it was going out in a blaze of glory. Literally. Fucking thing just went up in flames. Everyone thought it was part of the act, even when he stripped his shirt off to beat the flames out. So yeah, now they’re down an amp.

Gareth being plied with tequila before the show in Kansas City was another highlight. Don’t get him wrong, he loves to see Gareth happy and if a pretty woman wanted to buy him some drinks then good for him. He loved it less when they were on stage later. Eddie has no idea what songs Gareth was playing, but they definitely weren’t the same as the rest of the band. He also learned it’s really hard to get vomit out of a snare drum.

And then there’s the pain.

Thing is, its always there. It just is, there’s no point making a big deal about it. The doctors always told him it would be a life long thing but that it would get easier. It’s been three years now, and there’s been no improvement. Which is, well not fine, it sucks, but you know, it is what it is. But there have been days, shows, where he could cry. Where it feels like his skin has been flogged with a burning switch, where the muscles in his leg and back scream at him to stop, just fucking stop! But he pushes through, takes his painkillers, maybe doubles up sometimes with a couple of shots of JD to help them down, whatever. It’s all good.

And now they’re sitting at the side of the I-94 with smoke and steam billowing from the engine block, and nothing but truck after truck passing by. 

“What if no one stops?” asks Gareth, propping himself against the back doors.

Jeff rocks on his heels in front of him, hands jammed in his pockets. “Someone will stop.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Eddie mutters. He’s under the hood, poking his hand around into the hot engine parts; he’s only burnt himself twice so far. 

“Hey, don’t be bring your bad juju here man—”

Eddie storms to the back of van. “My bad juju? Are you kidding me? Gareth booked these fucking gigs!”

A huge semi screams past them, tooting his horn, making them all jump. 

“I booked some of them. Don’t blame this on me, man. It’s your van.”

“It is my van, correct, however we all benefit from it, and I don’t see any of you assholes dipping into your pockets when it needs work.”

Jeff shrugs. “Well, it’s never needed work.”

“It does now,” says Matt, merrily throwing pebbles into the long grass, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Eddie cuts him a withering look.

Another truck passes, whipping up dirt in it’s trail. When he’s done coughing, Gareth says “I kind of think we should stand further away, actually. This doesn’t feel safe.“ He’s probably not wrong.

“Alright, go and sit by the fence, I’ll stand here with my thumb out,” Eddie says, mumbling “like an asshole” under his breath. He drops his jacket into the front seat of the van on the off chance it might seem less imposing, and then heads to the side of the road, standing as far out from the van as he dares. 

“You should roll your jeans up, show ‘em some leg!” Matt shouts at him.

“Fuck off, Matt!”

“Have you seen how white his legs are?” he can hear Jeff say. “We want them to stop, not call Ghostbusters.”

Eddie pokes his head around the side of the van. “By all means, one of you stand here with your thumb in the air while eighteen wheelers fly past.” When he doesn’t get a response he snaps back, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

Eddie stands in the blazing sun, hair whipping around his face as semi after semi speeds by; he’s sweaty and dirty and desperate for a shower. The nerves in his leg are starting to fire up, and he needs a cigarette but he smoked his last one just before the van decided it was done with this trip, so now he has the little tap tap tap of nicotine addiction to contend with as well. 

This sucks. Touring sucks. So fucking much.

But.

Last night they played a show in Minneapolis. The crowd was wild; a huge mosh pit opened up right in front of Eddie and it took every ounce of his being not to throw himself in the mix. They sold tapes and t-shirts and traded phone numbers with a band manager. They laughed all night and drank until three A.M.. It was amazing. It was everything he ever dreamed it would be.

Wayne always told him he was resilient, ‘more than you know, son.’ He holds on to that as another truck screams past.

[kleewie]

i knew it from the first old fashioned, we were cursed

summary: drunk nights like these always end with your mind in a drowsy numbness. but why does your heart pound like a drum in your chest—fast and hot in anticipation of something more than just friends? (in other words, a modern au about drunk nights, hand holding, and unsaid feelings).

→ pairings: childe, zhongli, & alhaitham

→ warnings: fluff, light cursing, not proofread, mentions of drinking and alcohol, gender neutral reader

→ author’s note: i had a dream about my old crushes. as much as i want to say “yikes!! stop that cringe,” i got to admit it made my heart go doki-doki! plus binge listening to taylor’s reputation + midnights albums made the idea pop into my head. slight present tense issues are present (probably) ‘cause it hasn’t been proof read ;-; anyhow, i hope you enjoy it!

credits to @a-cure-for-writers-block on tumblr for the prompts!

beware, slight lengthy post ahead!

feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful! i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing (*´∀｀*)

childe: the sponsor-and-instigator

seemingly, the reason why you’re almost half-dead on the floor.

childe decides it’s a great idea to sponsor a fifth round of drinks when (a majority of) the group threaten to leave.

you and the bunch don’t though,

the shiny allure of brand new drinks put up a convincing fight.

so when you’re cursing his name, slamming imaginary daggers at his back,

the actual demon stands over your tired body, as if summoned. obviously delighted by your drunken state, he sends you a cheeky grin.

you, annoyed at his antics, return his smile with one of your own.

one screaming dare me, i'll leave you to vomit your guts out.

honestly, you never know what he's thinking.

your relationship with the ginger is, in short, awkward. both of you are in the same friend group.

yet, you seem to be closer to actual strangers than with him.

a chance to bond never presented itself. hence, you're stuck in a state of wariness and longing— slightly afraid to offend the man you're trying to be friends with.

so when the opportunity arises (a night out to drink for fun's sake), you immediately agree.

now, you're stuck in this predicament.

a hand behind his back, his arm around your shoulder, your whole body carrying the weight of his, stumbling around.

figures. the reason why he'd approach your tipsy condition is that you're the only one willing to carry (drag his ass) to the sofa.

bad call.

previously, you lounged half-dead on the second floor. which means, you'll have to haul him safely down the stairs.

him climbing the stairs, instead of crawling himself into the couch, baffles you. i mean, the last time you see him is downstairs.

anyway, certain someone (a drunk kaeya, “oops!”) forgets to wipe the pool of water he spilled on the lower steps.

causing you to slip first. as you're the one pulling his body, he soon follows.

the first thing you hear is a loud smack.

and the first thing you think is: you killed him.

“oh god!” you blurt.

you're almost disappointed to hear his sudden laughter. almost.

“i fell for you,” he mumbles.

crouching over him, you furrow your brows. “don't tell me…” you hesitate. “…do you have a concussion?”

childe promptly sits up, gripping your wrist. his sober blue eyes meet yours in a silent plea, as if begging you to grasp the message he's trying to convey.

to realize he's not fooling around.

to understand he’s serious.

maybe that's why it’s so difficult, so embarrassing, so upsetting for you to begin a friendship with the man.

you never want to be friends.

you desire something else, something different, something more.

his fingers, gripping your wrist, slide up in a gentle caress, “why would i try so hard to make you stay?” you feel his thumb brush your shoulder. “why would i try so hard to catch your eye?” his hand skims your cheek. “all the jokes, the teasing, the lingering gazes— all of it.”

childe slides his hand, softly resting his thumb on your lips.

and you swallow a lump in your throat.

“don't look at me like that and then feign innocence,” he whispers. “you keep saying we're friends, but you look at me for a moment too long for that to be true.”

more under the cut!

zhongli: the low-tolerance drunk

at any given occasion (involving drinking), there are ten kinds of drunks.

apparently, zhongli’s the type to look like he can hold his liquor.

but looks can be deceiving, as he’s the first one to drop his glass and sprint to the bathroom.

why he’d rush off after one more cup? who knows.

you feel guilty though. i mean, you’re the one pestering him to chug a glass down.

your pouty lips, twinkling eyes, and soft convincing voice entice him to drink against his one-bottle agenda.

you're that persuasive.

but when he leaves, you feel the loneliness hit. ironic as you cause him to depart in the first place.

hu tao glances at your sullen form, slightly snickering.

it's obvious. extremely obvious how captivated you are by the dark haired man.

a small crush develops into something more intense. you could bask in all his greatness, yet, still be wanting more.

you sigh and wish he'd come back from his break sooner.

since it's mandatory to order additional drinks for sulking individuals. being the best companion (wingwoman) she is, hu tao drags you towards the bartender.

as she orders more glasses, a couple of intoxicated men approach you.

looking at how unsteady they are on their feet and how they stink like alcohol, you assume one had too many to drink.

“hey, cutie.” one slurs. “begging for some lovin'?”

you say, “no, thanks.” and step away. adding, “i'm with a friend.” when you see them follow you.

your eyes search for hu tao, but the amount of people piling around the bar obscure your vision of her.

the other man smirks, “playing hard to get?”

you roll your eyes.

stupid how these men don't take no as an answer. how they presume standing here is an invitation for something else.

before he's able to grab your wrist, a palm swats his hand away.

“excuse me,” zhongli drawls. “you're getting a little too comfortable.”

he wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, against your collar bone. igniting a red blush on your cheeks.

of course he's here to save you.

though, you still want to beat the douchebags up for continuing to hit on you after refusing them.

the man hisses in response, “ouch! shit hurt!”

scowling, zhongli shoots a hostile glare. “my apologies. foolish men daring to touch them puts me in a sour mood.” he gently pulls you, before adding. “be careful. try not to upset me.”

if you know what's good for you, he thinks.

and the irritated man whisks you off somewhere else. gone from the crowded room and away from the vulgar folks you go.

you sense his displeasure, as it radiates his whole body. but you're half-worried, half-giddy.

yes, he's mad. but he’s mad because of you.

“...you're upset.” you hint.

zhongli hums in agreement.

tugging his hand loosely in yours, you ask, “...so what's wrong?”

his thumb brushes your palm in soothing circles before pulling your hand to his lips for a soft kiss.

“darling,” he mumurs. “you don’t know half of the things you do to me.”

alhaitham: the designated-chauffeur

amongst a group of drunkards, there always has to be one sober person who picks up everyone else’s shit.

and unwillingly, alhaitham becomes the appointed chauffeur.

a funny circumstance really.

because: one, he never came to the party in the first place; and two, he meets up with your plastered crowd by pure chance.

and he's certainly surprised to see you.

since you told him the night before that you weren't going, at all.

your heartbeat quickens in anticipation.

i mean, why wouldn't your heart beat like it's running seventy miles an hour? your long-time crush from college (you both take the same classes) suddenly appears out of nowhere to save the group from certain despair (passing out on the sidewalk).

and upon considering he now knows you lied, your heart beats even faster.

“alhaitham, i can explain!” you sputter. “i thought i wasn't going either but—”

tighnari decides it's a great idea to intrude on your speech by gagging his life out on the pavement.

but you totally understand.

cyno succeeded at creating the nastiest concoction of juices and alcohol you've ever tasted— you heave just thinking about it.

“—but first... i think we (you, cyno, and the almost-hurling man),” you continue “need a ride home.”

as he cares about your welfare, and is the most responsible person in the group, he agrees.

but before you can get into the back of his four-seater car, he pulls front-seat car door open. “after you,” he says.

you gulp.

he's mad, alright.

after he drops off the two other intoxicated people in the car, he drives towards your apartment.

your eyes glance at his figure, trying to perceive his mood.

is he still mad? did he feel left out?

is it because you lied?

you couldn't tell.

the deafening silence is killing you. so you put on a brave face and apologize.

“i'm sorry, okay?” you mumble. “i wasn't planning to go but tighnari—don't look at me like that— you, of all people, know he can't hold his liquor.”

“oh? that's it?” he prods, steering the wheel to the right of an intersection.

you huff. “yes, that's it.”

a pause.

“you're a terrible liar.”

you grumble in frustration.

yes, he can see right through your lies. the point is, you've never been a good deceiver. so you curse the alcohol for making your inability to lie more obvious than usual.

thus, you explain the reason why you came to the party: a secret surprise planning session for alhaitham's birthday.

not so surprising now, is it? you remark. his fault for persuading you to spill the beans.

now, you feel guilty. and because you’re guilty, you get grumpy.

and because you’re grumpy, your eyes tear up in frustration.

alhaitham hears your sniffling and sends quick side-glances at you. “are you crying?” he asks.

“no,” you lie.

you blame your weakened emotional state on your weak alcohol tolerance. if you would’ve known he’d show up, you’d be as sober as a judge.

god, you’re absolutely going to embarrassed in the morning.

yet, something pulls on the breaks in your mind.

alhaitham parks the car in front of your garage, and you see the colors of your apartment through glossy eyes.

“please don't lie,” he reaches for your face and places his thumbs below your eyes. sighing, he wipes the fallen tears from your cheeks. “forgive me. i'm not mad, and i didn't mean to ruin the surprise.”

you choke a sob in response.

but, you're too busy tearing up to see how tenderly he looks at you.

with eyes full of longing, eagerness, and want.

“i hate seeing you so upset,” alhaitham cooes. “take a deep breath, sweetheart. you'll be okay.”

thank you so much for reading! ♡

feedback, comments, and reblogs are extremely meaningful!

i’d love to hear your thoughts on my writing ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

[prettyanddeceiving]

Run, Rabbit, Run

dark!joel miller x f!reader

summary: joel is curious about you, until he finds you undressed in the woods.

a/n: id make this longer if i had any idea how to continue it lmao

warnings: slight noncon ref, dubcon, dark joel like really dark, fem reader, choking, FILTHY talk, mean mean joel, slight dacryphilia, ass-play

1.1k words (will finish if requested)

Like just imagine bumping into miller during the apocalypse

“The hell?” he says like he aint ever seen something like you before.

“I-I am so sorry” he just groans and leaves before you can tell him how starving you are. After that small interaction you think that’d be the last time but to your surprise, he passes by your little rut few times in the week. He never talks to you but he definitely stares, probably due to how you look. You arent the prettiest in the bunch due to your appearance, making you want to sob, youve always been easy to upset. He must think you’re disgusting. Your cries are silent at first as he passes by following some route, you tend to find some nearby water source nearly vomiting at your own mind’s thoughts about you.

Undressing from the torn but still the only piece of clothing you had left, and well had memories attached to it. Youre on display for anyone to see, cleaning yourself desperately trying to scrub off something that was never there in the beginning. A tut can be heard behind you as your eyes shoot open, covering yourself with your hands, almost falling in the rush of adrenaline tensing your muscles. There he was, that strange man that stared and left you here and now again, you felt a scream trying to claw out of your throat but you decided it would be better to not be found by infected due to your cry. However, tears were falling unbeknownst to you as you look pitfully at the larger man.

Your hands gripping onto your skin and covering where it mattered most you shake as your small voice comes out, “Please, dont hurt me.”

He could only hold back a small bit of his chuckle before bursting out, holding his head with his hand as he looks at you with the most sincere eyes, but clearly malice behind them. Like he had done things, horrible things to people, like he had a darkness. Goosebumps vober your body as you squeeze your thighs together, his laugh was like none else.

You liked that he stared just as he did before, but you could tell with your body clean he didnt look at you with a judging stare, more like hungry. You would be lying if you could say you never looked at him like that, mostly because you really were starving but there was another pool of hunger in your stomach that seemed to grow under his gaze everytime.

“Such a pretty lil thing out here on her lonesome, dont ya think I should take ya with me, girlie?” You never wanted to scream yes so loud before, but obviously you realized the meaning behind his words.

To be used in trade for sustenance, of course he needed a flaw, a very fucking horrible one. You stumble as you try to get away, if you went any faster he could hurt you or worse, take what he wanted right now. You grab the worn sun dress, almost tearing as you rushed to put it on, you needed to get out of here now.

“Th-Thank you for the offer, I’d just be a burden, haha…” You pleaded to whatever higher power that would be merciful to you, you started speeding away with the adrenaline pumping making you slightly trip. You nearly scream as you take a look behind you realizing he’s gaining on you, ‘just fuck off’ you cry. He snares his teeth at your harsh words, understanding that you probably didnt pick the best words to throw at the much stronger looking man.

“You tryna run from me, sweet thing? How dumb can you possibly be? You really want to be punished huh, sweetheart” You accidentally let out a groan you wanted to suppress, his words hit you deep, he said all the right things however he was chasing you and you didn’t exactly find yourself in a situation where you wanted to be used in order to not starve to death.

He chuckes darkly at your groan as you fall onto the ground due to not paying attention in front of you, you fall like a clumsy slut your legs spread and your chest against the damp forest floor. You feel tears streaming down your cheeks as you try your hardest to get up as fast as you can but to your dismay you feel large fingers wrap around your ankle as you're pulled back.

“N-Nononono..NO PLEASE!” You shout, he instantly covers your mouth with one firm grip of his other hand, he growls filling you with heat “You tryna get us fucking killed, stupid bitch?!” His punishing hand lands on your exposed skin, the curve of your ass as you feel your body jolt in excitement but you begin sobbing in his hand, falling against him as if he were going to comfort you.

Huge tears falling from your puffy eyes and your lips feeling as though they were drawing in the scent of him, his hand rough and calloused your thoughts run wild as you act without reason. Relaxed but sobbing into him you have the sudden urge to lick the calloused skin, he groans and ruts his hips against your back. You muffle a small ‘sorry’ hoping he would take pity on you, it only fuels him more, the sound of your cries making his pulsing cock unbelievably hard as he controls himself from just splitting you apart on his fat cock.

He imagines the types of wails and cries you’d let out as he fucks into you, he feels your hands reach up onto his forearms, laughing at the way your small hands barley fit around his arms shaking against him. Your sun dress brought up on your ass as you try to squirm away only making the male let out muted moans, you were practically grinding against him like a typical slut. Tears fall down your cheeks again, you begin pleading even though the heat between your legs grows as you feel the outline of his cock bump against your ass.

“P-Pleasee..L-Let me..go” You manage to muffle out as he lays another slap on the flesh of your bare ass, crying out as bouncing against his aching cock. “Fuck, such a fuckin’ slut ‘s right, bounce on my fuckin’ cock.” You whimper, not being able to think straight as you cant even think before speaking. “Stop!” You cry one final time before he grips your throat and squeezes, you feel your breathing slow and you become limp in his arms.

“Weak, pathetic little girl.”

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirteen

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

august 3, 2018 los angeles, california orion

I've not left the apartment since I got home from the hospital two days ago, except to take Duke out a few times a day. The nausea has been unrelenting the entire time and I feel like I've been hit by a bus. I don't even sleep in our bed. I spend the whole time on the couch.

I'm grateful that I've only vomited once, but I haven't eaten a full meal in several days. From being stressed about Cal leaving to getting started on chemo, food hasn't exactly been appealing. I can tell my weight is going to plummet over the next several weeks, but it's hard to fight the feeling that I'll throw up anything I eat and also that adding anything else to the chaos in my stomach already is not a good idea.

Duke has been a great cuddle companion and has barely left my side. Calum called again yesterday but hasn’t yet called today. The time zones make it so confusing and I keep forgetting whether he’s ahead or behind of me in time. He texted me a few hours ago—it was just a selfie of him and Ashton backstage, letting me know they were about to perform. Once they finish the show tonight they’re flying to New Zealand, which I know he’s excited about.

It’s been long enough now that I think he should be off stage soon, if they aren’t already, but I know they’re going to be kind of chaotic afterwards because they’ll be rushing to the airport. I don’t plan on calling him at all; his schedule is so insane and busy, and I know he will do his best to call me as much as he can. I’ll call him if it’s important enough, but so far nothing has happened that should mean I call him.

This morning I woke up to a banging on the apartment door and to my dismay I found my moms had ordered groceries for me. It was just a bunch of easy to make foods — cans of soup, frozen pizzas, instant ramen — but it still frustrated me that they would do that without asking me. I don’t need their help.

I grumble silently, dragging the food inside with Duke sticking his face in the bags. “Nothing for you, sorry buddy.”

Once I get the frozen food into the freezer, I go to flop back on the couch. My body aches so much. I don’t feel like I can stand for more than a few minutes at a time. I’ve debated checking with Macy to see if she would be able to walk Duke for me, but I’m scared to rope another person in on my secret. I’m on the couch watching more Girl Meets World when Emelia texts me.

From: emi✨ how ya doin today? need anything?

To: emi✨ yuck. am fine. just don’t wanna move ever again.

From: emi✨ do you want me to walk duke for you? i can come by after work!

I want to say yes, but she’s already doing so much. She’s the one who will be driving me to and from chemo next week, and she’s already planning on coming over again tomorrow to keep an eye on me. I’m hoping I feel okay enough to hang out with Macy in a few days like we’d planned… I decide I am just going to suck it up. I can handle it. What's the worst that can happen?

I text Emelia "no" and then muster as much strength as I have left to get off the couch again. It's time to take a shower, I decide.

It takes me a somewhat shameful amount of time to get to the bathroom and turn on the water. I crank it all the way up because I'm freezing. Before I get in, I grab a pair of Cal's boxers and one of his hoodies to put on when I get out, and then I hook my phone up to the Bluetooth speaker so I can listen to music.

The sound of Maisie Peters' brief but iconic discography echoes in the room while I step under the hot water, and I instantly feel better. Washing my hair feels weird because it's so much shorter than it was when I last washed it. I pump out far too much shampoo for the amount of hair I have left, but it smells nice, so it's fine.

I'm singing the words to Worst of You when the music is replaced by ringing. Someone is calling me, and, if I had to guess, it's Calum. Of course, he calls right during the first time in the past several days that I can't answer. Quickly, I rinse the shampoo from my hair and try to scrub my entire body, undoubtedly missing a few places, but I just want to get out.

Tossing the sweatshirt on over my wet hair and clumsily stepping into the boxers, I grab my phone off the counter and hit the button to call Calum back. While it rings, I wrap the towel over my hair and walk out of the bathroom, plopping back on the couch.

"If it isn't my favorite girl on the planet," Calum answers.

My mood instantly lifts but I roll my eyes. "I'm telling Joy that she's not your favorite. She won't be happy."

"That's different and you know it."

I smile. I love that he loves his mom so much, but being ranked higher than her is really such an honor. She's a wonderful lady.

"Sorry to miss your call, I was in the shower."

"No, it's fine! We're driving to the airport now and I just wanted to say hi really quick."

"How was the second show?"

Calum starts talking about a technical issue that I don’t really understand but try to listen intently. Something about the sound in his earpieces cutting off and no one believed or understood him so he had to play the whole show not being able to hear anything. He said the fans made him a sign to remind him of his lyrics (a common trend) and someone threw a beaded bracelet onstage that had a C and an O with a heart between them.

“It’s yours now,” he says. “It won’t fit me but it’ll fit your tiny wrist.”

I smile. It’s a cute memento and I am glad the fans are kind of warming up to me. I try to avoid looking for their opinions and thoughts on me but it’s a bit inescapable if I go on any of the 5SOS pages to check for updates.

“Can’t wait to have it,” I tell him.

“Did I tell you I’ve flown Mum out to Auckland? We’ll get there around the same time.”

“No! You didn’t tell me, but I’m jealous. I miss her.”

“She misses you too. She said they’d love to come to LA for Christmas, too, so we can maybe start planning that?” He says it like a question. “I know it’ll probably be you planning it because I know you love planning but it doesn’t have to be just you.”

My heart gets warmer at the thought. I love hosting and spending time with our favorite people, especially for special occasions. It could also be the first time we get to introduce our families to each other. We only have one guest room, but Cal’s office/studio could fit an air mattress for Mali if she doesn’t bring a partner. My family could just come up for the day, or maybe Cal and I could sleep on the couch and give my moms and brother our room.

Then I remember treatment plans and all of the uncertainty in my future and my head starts to spin. Will we be able to host if I’m going through treatment? Maybe Cal should just go to Australia for Christmas without me, and I’ll stay here and get treatment or just spend it with my own family. I try not to think on it too hard, but there is still, devastatingly, a chance that Calum won’t be happy when I tell him I’ve been lying.

He wouldn’t break up with me over it, I don’t think, but sometimes when he’s mad he does lose sight of rationality. It’s not a unique trait to him. We all do it. He’s never gotten mad at me—we’ve had fights and arguments but he’s never been angry with me specifically, more a situation or something that just frustrates him. I don’t know how he’s going to react, and maybe that’s part of why I didn’t want to tell him at all. I am 98% sure Calum would’ve opted out of tour for me, but that other 2% gnaws at the back of my brain.

Would he have ended it then and there? Why go through the heartache of being with someone you know will die soon?

“Orion?” Cal’s voice interrupts my spiral.

“Sorry, what?”

He laughs. “I said you’d probably want to be in charge of planning Christmas.”

I laugh nervously. “Yeah, I mean… probably.”

He’s silent for a minute. It’s a short pause and with anyone else, it wouldn’t matter or stick out, but with Calum, it does. “You okay?”

I hate how easily he’s able to read me without even being able to see me. I quickly try to come up with an excuse. “Yeah, just been having a hard time sleeping. The apartment feels so empty without you.”

Calum pauses again, and I know it’s because that idea makes him a bit sad. “Would you feel better if Em stayed there? That could be fun, a four month sleepover with your bestie.”

I purse my lips, holding back that Em has already stayed here one night of the three that he’s been gone. “Maybe.”

He sighs. “I’m sorry you’re feeling lonely. Let me know if there’s any way I can help. Even if it’s just to fly home for a day whenever we have a break or to fly you somewhere for a day. I don’t care. I want to see you, especially if you’re down, okay?”

I want to shake my head but he can’t see me. “Cal, it’s fine. We’ll be fine. Just might take a bit to get used to.”

“I don’t want you to get used to a life without me, O. I’m here, forever, okay? Whatever you need, I’m there.”

With each word, I can feel my heart ripping down the middle, inch by inch. I don’t know how it’s still whole.

“I love you,” is all I manage to say. I’m choking back tears, the guilt is so much. How can I keep this up? How can I hold this in?

“I love you, too.” He sounds sad now. “Love, we’re almost to the airport. Do you want me to call you again once we’re through security? We don’t have to stop talking.”

I clear my throat. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be fine. Just text me before you take off.”

“We’re both gonna be fine. I’ve gotta go. I love you.”

I feel my tears slowly trickling down my face and I don’t bother to wipe them away. “I love you. Bye.”

Then we hang up, and I can really start sobbing. Duke runs over, his ears perked up. He’s not sure why I’m crying and he hops up next to me, sticking his face by mine. When he starts licking my face, I stop him. I’d read something about how all bodily fluids post-chemo are essentially poison. I don’t want to get Duke sick, too. I can’t handle that. We can’t both be sick.

I pull Duke close to me and squeeze him as much as I can without hurting him. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this, but I know I will, at least for now. I’ll have Em and my moms and Ash and Duke and everything will be fine. It has to be.

next chapter

a/n: spoiler next chapter will have a bomb drop hehehe

[catcake24]

The plot bunnies have returned - also sorry for DC or Marvel fans if this contradicts canon or if I have no idea what I’m talking about but I have to share.

I’ve learned of Batman and his lore from comic reviews and that one BatFam webtoon, so sorry again

awhile ago I read a fanfic called Dark Matter and a bunch in a similar ‘genre’ for lack of a better word. It’s basically ‘what if Spiderman was transported into Gotham after No Way Home, and became part of the Bat Family?’

Well, for whatever reason, I really liked one idea where Jason Todd/Red Hood becomes something of an older bro figure to Spidey and helps him out in training. Then my brain wandered into ‘what if someone used Peter’s DNA to make another spider?’…… I think you see where this is going.

So while they’re busting the place, Jason gets bit and doesn’t realize until a couple hours later when the mutations start. He’s in agony the whole time, the others confused and asking what’s wrong, when Peter’s spider sense starts going off and he realizes what is happening. Jason screams in agony, vomiting and accidentally crushing his own gun as his body changes. He eventually passes out.

When he wakes up, everything’s too loud, too bright, too much, and he doesn’t know why. Only after some adjustment does it go down, and he realizes Bruce took him to the Batcave for observation. He also realizes he feels weird, like everything is a new experience, and Peter explains why.

Jason was bit, Peter admits the mutations were just as bad for him when he was bit, and has gained many of Spiderman’s abilities - though they aren’t totally sure how many since he and Jason have very different genetics and the scientist could’ve somehow messed with the DNA.

Jason also realizes he’s wearing an inhibitor collar, one Spidey made since he wasn’t sure if the power dulling devices would work, which just piles on top of his very bad day and he removes it in anger….. only to be hit by his new enhanced senses and his new Spider sense screaming that Batman is nearby and just general disorientation. He lets Spiderman put the collar back on, but says he can’t stay here. (Fill in the blank, but Jason eventually gets out of the Batcave to Batman’s displeasure)

Extra Ideas:

- Jason isn’t doing well with accepting this stuff, wanting it gone as soon as possible and Peter working on a potential cure to help him.

- He isn’t taking this very well, Jason not sure who he is now if these abilities can’t be undone. He also has trouble handling things like Spider sense, which sets his already tense nerves on fire with every potential threat around him, and wall climbing which isn’t exactly natural for him. He is wearing the collar a lot, even only able to sleep when it’s on because it makes him feel normal again.

- He doesn’t like being kept in a box though, so he starts avoiding Spiderman until Nightwing comes along and basically says “dingus, he’s trying to help you and he doesn’t expect you to be like him. He isn’t Bruce, and even he has accepted you by now!”

-However, at some point Spiderman is mind controlled by some villains and Red Hood decides to take off the collar to pursue him, accepting these new abilities as just a new part of himself, and manages to just barely get Spiderman down for long enough to snap him out of it. After that, they decide to be kind of mutual teachers - Jason is using weapons and combat training while Peter is helping him learn how to better control these new abilities in his own way.

- Peter even makes a custom Web shooter for Jason which uses impact webbing (instantaneously webbing someone) and taser webbing (it conducts electricity and can stun someone), though admits he was working on it before Jason’s mutation. It ends up working into Red Hood’s fighting style, and things like Spider Sense make his injuries go wayyyy down once he starts getting the hang of it.

Idk, DC fans pls correct my story I kind of love this weird weird idea and need someone to vibrate with

[audioaujom]

27: Victim's Memoirs [wrong end 4 ★5]

Corpse Party Hub, < prev, next >

This is wrong end 4 ★5 from Chapter 2! A lot of these bad endings are fucked up and awful but I honestly debated not writing this one because it’s nasty, but… when whump calls lmao

I've also written (or begun writing) nearly every other bad ending for this game and I guess this one felt left out idk

I know compared to a lot of the other graphic shit on this hellsite this is probably nothing, but I’d feel uncomfortable posting this without a bunch of warnings. I don’t really have a taste for such graphic things, but I’m actually kind of pleased with how it came out. I like the ick ig Be safe and enjoy responsibly.

Pairing: Ranboo and Charlie

Word Count: 3190

Chapter TWs: Mind Manipulation ("Darkening"), Graphic Depictions of Violence, Gore, Implied/Referenced Cannibalism, Vomiting, Character Death

--

“Whoa hey, do you see that?” Charlie asked as he stepped out of the classroom, Ranboo poking his head out the door to look over his friend’s shoulder at the floor.

“The notebook paper with blood on it?” Ranboo asked, Charlie turning around to face him with a sinister grin. “Yeah, I see it. Why?”

“C’mon, aren’t you curious?” Charlie all but whined, his eyes darting back and forth between the page and Ranboo’s disapproving glare from the doorway.

“Uhm, not really. What’s it gonna say? ‘Here’s how to get out of this horrible haunted elementary school in three easy steps’?” 

“It could!” Ignoring the obvious deadpan, Charlie smiled hopefully up at Ranboo—who just sighed and shook his head.

“No, it really couldn’t.” Ranboo then paused, an unreadable look crossing his face before he continued, “But I’m not going to stop you if you do wanna look.”

“Aha! You are curious!” Charlie poked a finger into the taller boy’s chest, his smile splitting into a wide grin. “It’s just as I suspected!” Triumphant, he turned and swiped the paper up off the ground, eyes scanning the page from behind his glasses before his grip on the page tightened and his face paled. “Oh. Oh god nevermind.”

“What? What’s it say?” Ranboo asked, his own curiosity morbidly piqued by Charlie’s horror, taking the scrap paper from his friend who passed it over wordlessly.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I ate my friend today. What else was I supposed to do? I was starving. We both were. And there's no food here. So we decided, together, that one of us should try to live just a little bit longer. If I ever get home, I'm supposed to tell all the people waiting for us what happened. We left it all up to a game of rock-paper-scissors. Loser eats winner. And I lost. I felt her blood going down my throat, quenching my thirst. And her meat was surprisingly satisfying. But that blood and that meat was once my friend. Up until just a few hours before, I'd been talking with her. As I feasted, I just kept thinking, this food used to be a person. Before I tore it apart, it all worked together to sustain a life. And every time I thought about that, I just started crying… and I couldn't stop. I wanted some part of her to be with me even after she died, so I decided to keep one of her eyeballs. And I thought maybe I should write all of this down, to help preserve some small portion of my sanity. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Oh.” Ranboo gagged in disgust and horror, dropping the page to put one hand over his mouth as the other went to clutch at his stomach. “Well, alright. That’s… wow, okay. Um…”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Charlie tried to joke, but it fell flat as his voice shook nervously. He then put a gentle hand on Ranboo’s shoulder, quietly suggesting, “Let’s just… leave that there.”

“Yeah. Good idea.” Ranboo nodded, staring down at the paper on the floor, his look turning to a slight glare. “Just when I think things can’t get any worse…”

“C’mon, let's keep looking somewhere else.” Charlie offered, lightly pulling Ranboo by the arm away from the classroom and towards the stairs.

The two silently made their way back down to the first floor, wanting to search in a more orderly fashion by working their way up from the bottom. By the time they’d made it downstairs the odd tension in the air had already dissipated, them hunting in a much more comfortable silence until—

“Uhm… Ranboo? Is that…?” Charlie asked tentatively, pointing at another rather innocuous piece of notebook paper lying behind a ruined table near the rows of shoe shelves at the front doors.

“Another bloody piece of notebook paper probably containing horror beyond my worst imagination?” Ranboo responded rhetorically, giving Charlie a look as he blandly stated, “I think so.”

“Would it be wrong of me to say I’m still curious?” Glancing at Ranboo beside him, Charlie quickly backpedaled, “Not in a weird sort of way, I just… if it’s from the same person I want to know what happened to them.”

Ranboo stared at him blankly. “Why are you asking for my permission?” 

“It makes me feel better.”

“Wow, no hesitation there.” Ranboo shook his head at his friend’s immediate answer, sighing and gesturing forward at the page. “Sure. Go read it if you really want to.”

“Okay!” Charlie nodded, jogging forward and crouching down before looking up as he realized he wasn't being followed. “Are you not coming too?”

Ranboo stood still for a long moment before he finally gave in and stepped over with a quiet, “...coming.” 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I hold, in the palm of my hand... a piece of a person's body. A piece of a person who was living and breathing only a short while ago. This body part used to be attached to her head. And now, I'm walking around the school with it. I had no idea eyeballs were so heavy. And I just keep squishing it in the palm of my hand, as if I'm testing its firmness. Squeeze, and release... Squeeze, and release… — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Okay.” Charlie announced, dropping the page immediately after finishing it. “Somehow that’s worse than the vivid description of cannibalism.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Ranboo grinned as Charlie turned to look at him, betrayed.

“Hey! That’s my line!” He whined with his own smile, before it slowly faded alongside the playful air as realization started to dawn on his face. “But dude… this place is really fucked up. The bodies we keep coming across are all of kids, which means—”

“Don’t. I’m gonna stop you right there.” Ranboo cut him off, firmly waving both of his hands and shaking his head for emphasis. “I don’t… don’t. Nope. I am not going to think about the implications. You are not going to think about the implications. There are no implications. None.”

Charlie nodded, his widened eyes slowly closing as he let out a breath to calm himself down. “No problem.” 

Working their way around the main floor and then to the row of first floor classrooms, the second page—while weird—was long forgotten as the two briefly bickered about how to open the nailed shut door at the back of 2-A until Ranboo remembered the nail puller they’d found earlier. The secret room was strange, with large gaps in the floor and a mechanism at the far corner, the two venturing all the way to the back corner to look over the mechanism to try and figure out what it did.

“...Charlie.” It was Ranboo who broke the silence this time, an arm flying out to the side to stop Charlie in his tracks about halfway into the room. The two boys paused, both noticing the page on the floor.

“Are these notes following us around or something?” Charlie questioned with a frown, pushing Ranboo’s arm away. “Cause we can’t seem to go more than a few feet without finding another one.”

“I don’t like this at all.” 

“Yeah, that’s… fair.” Nodding to himself, Charlie paused before shuffling forward a few steps. “...I’ve gotta, right?”

“No, you really don’t.” Ranboo answered, Charlie ignoring him as he bent down to pick up the page with a shit-eating grin. “That sounds like a yes to me!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I've been searching every last corner of this school building, trying to find a way of escaping with her. But it's not happening. No matter how much we struggle, only further misery awaits us. I'm so unbearably thirsty… so hungry that it feels like my stomach is eating itself... And every moment, it gets worse. It's like a big, black mass in front of me that's slowly closing in. I can't keep ignoring it. I've started talking to the eyeball in my hand, to help stay focused and maintain my sanity. Stop looking at me like that! I swear, I'll find us a way out of here! I have to make sure I tell your family what you did for me… — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Hopeless. Lovely.” Ranboo commented from over one of Charlie’s shoulders, watching as his friend curiously started re-reading a section of the note.

“What’s that black mass thing they were talking about?” Charlie asked after he finished looking over the page, setting it back down with a huff. “That sounds a little more imposing than the hunger or thirst.”

“I’m not sure… but whatever it is we should avoid it if we can.” Ranboo sighed, staring down at the note on the floor, lost in thought.

“Oh. I assumed that went without saying.” Charlie agreed, before smirking and commenting, “Y’know, to avoid the big black ball.”

“Dude.” 

“Not even  a sliver of a smile?” Smirk dropping, Charlie sighed and shook his head. “Throw me a bone here man, I’m trying to cheer you up.”

“...thanks.” Ranboo smiled a little, recognizing Charlie’s effort but still too anxious to actually feel any sense of relief. “But the best way to cheer me up would be to stop reading these creepy notes and find a way out.”

“Aye aye, captain.” 

Ignoring Charlie’s mock salute, they continued investigating each floor systematically in an on and off silence until they reached the end of one of the hallways on the third floor, the two noticing another bloodied page near a particularly large gap in the floorboards.

“Okay, I know you said to stop reading them, but it’s right there.” 

“I already said I wouldn’t stop you like ten times, Charlie.” Ranboo sighed, watching Charlie run up to the page and instantly scan its contents.

“Epic.” About halfway down the page, Charlie's expression dropped, setting the page down with a wince of nausea. “Oh. Nevermind. I think I’m just gonna… put this back…”“What did it say?” Ranboo asked curiously, wandering over and picking up the page as soon as it hit the floor.

“Oh, you don’t wanna—” Charlie reached out to stop him, but was a moment too late as Ranboo had already begun reading. “Wait!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — I am writing these memoris wit hsticky hansd but its not me that is stiky but somethng else I hope you re not mad about this maybe you will think im a horribl e person but i got hungry again really hungry like i was about to DIE so i I did something I shouldn't have done. I promised myself I would stay sane, and promised myself I wouldn't do what I did, and I am so, so sorry, really, really sorry, really sorry but there is no excuse for what I did. With my bloody hands, I took the thing that I've been squishing, and I put it in my mouth, and I swallowed it. Iateit. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“...yeah.” Ranboo silently let go of the page as Charlie spoke, letting it slowly flutter through the air until it landed at his feet, Charlie grabbing him by the shoulders to maneuver him further down the hall. “Let’s go, Ran.”

“Yeah.” Ranboo nodded absentmindedly, fiddling with his hands before glancing over at Charlie and timidly asking, “We’ll figure this out, right? You and me?”

“You and me.” Charlie affirmed, squeezing his shoulders. “We got this.” 

No matter how confident Charlie sounded Ranboo couldn’t shake his lingering anxiety, the longer they searched around the school with no clear goal only serving to make it continually spiral. By the time they’d backtracked to the second floor for a second time, it had gotten so bad he almost didn’t step off the landing and through the doorway to the floor, letting Charlie pull him along as he couldn’t seem to get himself to walk forward. The anxious ice in his veins that had shattered when Charlie urged him forward resurged rapidly after the briefest moment as both of them noticed the paper lying beside the large gap in the floor at the same time.

“...is that—?” Charlie asked, cutting himself off as the two stared at the page on the floor.

Ranboo nodded, dread coiling in his stomach as he couldn’t will himself to move any closer to it. “I think it is.”

“It’s fine.” Charlie said randomly, pulling Ranboo into a nearby classroom with a soft smile. “I’m not curious.” 

“What? Really?” Ranboo asked, disbelieving, some of the dread giving way to relief as Charlie sounded genuine and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah, really. We have other priorities right now.” 

“Yeah. Yeah.” With a short nod from Ranboo, the two went back to investigating the small room. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

The classroom held nothing useful, Ranboo giving up after a few minutes and slamming shut the teacher’s desk drawer he’d pulled open in a vain hope of finding anything they could possibly use. He turned to comment about the empty nature of the classroom to Charlie, only to realize his friend was no longer beside him. Confused, he poked his head out of the doorway to see where he could’ve gone in the minute he was distracted with rifling through the desk.

“Charlie? Where’d you— NO!” The yell of surprise ripped out of Ranboo before he knew what he was saying, staring at where Charlie was crouched on the floor by the staircase with the previously seen note clutched in both of his hands. “Charlie, what are you doing?!”

“Sorry, Ran. I’m too curious.” Charlie apologized, flashing him a quick smile. “Besides, this is probably the last one, anyway. No harm, no foul.”

Reaching out, Ranboo threw himself forward to try and take the page from Charlie—who easily ducked out of the way. “No, don’t—!”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — if you are reading this allow me to forewarn you there is no hope of rescue there is nothing to be gained endless wandering and endless torture is the nature of this place i succumbed to my hunger and thirst began nibbling on that corpse again there is no flavor, no sensation just meat and fluid to sate my empty belly i promised i would not desecrate your body any more but i broke that promise  please  forgive me — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Charlie had barely read the last few words on the page when his vision completely blacked out.

Everything felt wrong.

The last thing Charlie remembered was reading another one of the bloody notes—please forgive me—and then blacking out on the floor. His head hurt and his mouth tasted metallic, a hand coming up to messily wipe some blood leaking out of his mouth as he tried to sit up and figure out what was going on around him.

“Shit, my head—!” Charlie glanced around with half-opened eyes, shaking his head and looking around frantically for his friend only to realize he was alone in the hallway. “What… oh god, Ranboo? Ranboo?!”

Forcing his nauseous body to his knees, he felt his stomach roil and force a line of bile up his throat from the movement, trying hard to swallow it back only for the metallic taste in his mouth to grow stronger.

“What the fuck is—?” He asked, cutting himself off to spit out a thick wad of blood that was building up in his mouth, the contents landing in an oddly gloopy pile on the wood between his knees. He spat again, the blood a little thinner but still strange as he recoiled from it and toppled over backwards. “Shit, what the fuck…?”

Finally looking up and getting his vision to focus, Charlie wished he could fall back unconscious as he realized he wasn’t technically alone—but the only company he now had was his friend’s unmoving body.

An extreme amount of blood had soaked into the wood flooring beneath Ranboo’s still form, his throat torn open and windpipe crushed, his neck missing a large chunk of jagged flesh from the middle that had already stopped oozing. His mouth and eyes were wide open, the once lively gray now faded, glassy, and frozen in a kind of terror that made Charlie sick to his stomach all over again. The muscles on his upper arms had been torn clean off, white bone sticky with what was left of the crimson tendons and blood missing from his limp arms—one of his elbows bent all the way up the wrong way. His legs weren’t nearly as torn as his arms, but they were ripped by what looked like teeth marks from the knees all the way down to his shoes, pants shredded by the unnatural strength of whatever had attacked and left his mangled body in the middle of the hallway.

“What did… what?” Charlie scrambled back up to his hands and knees to crawl up to Ranboo’s body, afraid to touch him as he realized his hands were already slick with the same blood that formed dried drips on the front of his shirt—and was very likely Ranboo’s. “Oh god, no… no no no, this some twisted fucking joke, there’s no way I would’ve… oh fuck…” Metallic twinged bile threatened to rise up his throat again, Charlie only managing to turn his head at the last minute before the vomit could soil Ranboo’s already desecrated corpse. “Blood… everywhere and… no… no, please…”

Sitting innocently next to the body was a scrap of paper that managed to avoid the worst of the spilled bodily fluids, Charlie reaching for it with shaking hands as he recognized Ranboo’s scrawled handwriting.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — It’s okay, Charlie. I know this wasn’t you. Only the school and that black mist are to blame. If you ever come back to your senses and read this… I’m sorry I couldn’t stop you. I hope you make it out. - Ran — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The rest of the note trailed off into a thick coating of blood, Charlie’s eyes going unfocused with hot tears that gathered in the corners and threatened to stream down his already messy face. “There’s no way I… I did this…?” Charlie asked aloud, his strangely half-full stomach feeling infinitely heavier as he frantically tried to spit or even throw up more of the flesh and blood coating the inside of his throat. “I… oh god…”

Another retch had vomit with chunks of barely digested muscle landing in front of Charlie, his eyes blurry with now freely flowing tears and an odd faded black tint around the edges that creeped in with a cool chill. One hand went up to claw at his throat as the other braced him against the floor, overwhelmed with a self-loathing so strong it was only rivaled by the innate disgust that stung in his mouth like his stomach acid, him clinging desperately onto the awful feelings as they started to slowly slip away from his conscious grasp into the dark void that gave him a sense of deja-vu to when he’d finished reading the last of the bloody notes. 

Charlie was tired and anguished and suddenly overwhelmingly… hungry. He just couldn’t fight it anymore. The hunger ate away at his feelings greedily, him collapsing to the floor as the dark haze re-took over his vision—leaving him in an empty heap of despair lying on the bloodsoaked wood next to Ranboo’s unmoving body.

[darkisrising]

fic writer interview tag game

Name/nickname: DarkIsRising/Dark

Fandoms: In this incarnation Star Wars and Teen Wolf mostly

Two shots?: Sure! I have a few of those. 

Most-popular multi-chapter fic: Most most MOST popular is an Our Flag Means Death fic “Cleave the Pin” which I think I just happened to write at the right time or something. I never expected it to get as much attention as it did, especially since I used a kind of strange style for Stede by using parentheses that, while I was writing, I kept thinking ‘ohhhh nooo, no one is going to like thiiiiiis.’ For my main fandoms, the most popular are Tribute (Teen Wolf, Steter) which took me fourteen months to write and In other words (Star Wars, BobaDinLuke, and a sequel to The best is yet to come so there’s one of my two-shots) which took eight months to write. Honestly it’s a wonder anyone stuck around that long, because there were massive gaps in posting since I kept writing myself into a corner that I needed to write and discard chapter after chapter before I finally settled on the ones I posted.

Actual worst part of writing: I have this thing where I’ll want to write, I’ll know exactly what I want to write, I’ll have everything lined up... but I just can’t. Like it feels like my brain is a bone and socket joint without cartilage that’s just grinding and grinding and grinding. Some days I can fake my way through it by writing a sentence or two at a time, poking around the internet, and then coming back to write a couple sentences more. Some days I just have to walk away entirely because it’s just not happening.

How you choose your titles: mostly song lyrics. I don’t really stress titles, and will choose random shit. Honestly, I barely even notice titles of books or fics I read, so I deprioritize them on my own stuff... though I have learned that there are a LOT of people out there that DO care what something is called and will even skip over fics based on titles alone so I’m trying to care more but it just doesn’t come naturally. 

Do you outline? Ish. When I get an idea I write out in a doc of word vomit everything i know about the story, from beggining to end, and as I write I add to that doc or change stuff around if I’ve gone in a new direction but I’ll usually have certain plot points I’m trying to get to no matter how off course I veer. That’s when the delays happen, when I veer too far and I have to decide if I want to cut the plot point that’s been in my doc for forever loose (and is usually a load bearing plot point, it’ll mean a bunch of other stuff cant happen once it goes) or if I need to somehow bring the veering back in line.

Ideas you probably won't get around to, but wouldn't it be nice: I had a quiobi set in The Good Place universe that I remember feeling really clever for how it worked.

Callouts @ me: Changing chapter counts as we go. It fluctuates wildly as I post and readers call me out on it ALL the time. Sure I could change it to ? but that feels like admiting the story got the better of me. 

Best writing traits: I think I give good character. 

Spicy tangential opinion: As a reader you’re only one good fic away from turning a squick or a nope trope/fandom/pairing into something you’re actively reading. That’s why I’ve really stopped saying that there’s stuff I won’t read. I’ve been humbled by good writing too many times to have any pride left. Anything I’ve shied away from in the past, in the right hands, can work.  Thanks @tessiete for the tag. I’ll tag... @andthepeople @furiosophie @bunnywest @bronze-lorica but absolutely zero pressure in playing

[child-of-the-nights]

You holding them while they fall asleep part 2

Lotr and The Hobbit characters x Reader

Trope: Hurt/Comfort

Summary: You comfort them after a long day and they fall asleep in your arms

Featured: Elrond, Kili, Fili, Aragorn, Gimli 

Previous part: Thranduil, Thorin, Legolas, Bilbo, Tauriel

Warnings: mention of near death experience, mention of death, mention of vomit (only in a joke) 

- Gender neutral reader -

Elrond:

It came as no surprise that Elrond worked a lot. You were pretty much used to it at that point. But even if he was busy, Elrond made sure to come to bed while you were still awake to get to spend some time with you. Sometimes he returned to his work but most of the time he slept alongside you.

This night however, he was unable to finish his work in time. He was far too stressed to think and he felt like his head was going to explode. The ring was yet to be destroyed, Arwen, his own daughter, wanted to leave for a mortal man, and to top it all off, Elrond had to look out for his people. The pressure was just too much for him to handle. 

So he sat in his study, staring at the papers yet his mind was elsewhere. Elrond sighed before putting down his pen. He knew that if he couldn’t get anything done then he should probably retire for the night.

Only when he saw you sleeping form on your shared bed did he realise how long he’d been in his study. He attempted quietly sitting down as to not startle you but the exhaustion got the better of him. 

“Elrond?” you asked as soon a you opened your eyes. He sent you a reassuring smile before taking off his boots. After setting them on the floor he turned to you with tired eyes. 

He sighed as he moved closer to you, finally wrapping his arms around your sleepy form. You started stroking his hair as he buried his face in your neck. 

“Is everything okay, melethronen (my beloved)?” you whispered after pressing a kiss on his forehead. 

“Yes, melethen (my love), be at rest now.”

You knew something was wrong but you were smarter than to press a topic he didn’t wish to talk about. 

Elrond pressed a kiss to your neck before wishing you good night. You returned the endearment and closed your eyes. It didn’t take long for the both of you to fall asleep as you both were exhausted. 

Kili: 

Oh god Kili was just so tired. He nearly lost his life twice, nearly lost his brother and uncle, had to go to war for his home and so on. He just wanted to rest and once everything was over, he finally could. 

He quietly excused himself after saying goodbye to Bilbo and took you with him. You were confused for a second of course; you thought he would rather enjoy feasting with the rest of the dwarves. But Kili had other ideas. 

Kili took you to a quiet room, where he placed something soft on the floor and sit down on it, patting the place next to him. You chuckled as you sat down and he immediately pulled you to the floor. So now you were both lying there. 

He placed his head on your chest and you began playing with his hair. It wasn’t until you’ve been there for at least twenty minutes he finally decided to explain why he dragged you here. 

“I’m really tired, amrâlimê (my love).” he whispered. “This journey was long and exhausting.”

“I know but it’s over now” you pressed a kiss on his head, “and we get to rest for as long as we wish.”

Kili smiled a little as he looked up at you. The admiration and love in his eyes were enough for you to understand that no matter what you have to go through, you will always have each others’ back. Even if that something is war or a bunch of orcs trying to kill you.

He turned his head back hugged you a little tighter. You chuckled and closed your eyes. You could feel how Kili slowly started to relax in your arms. 

Because of how exhausted you were from your shared journey, you two fell asleep very quickly. Of course, people came to look for you but when they saw you sleeping, they left without a word. Fili did end up teasing his brother about it though. 

Fili: 

Even though you’ve been traveling for some time now, you still weren’t anywhere near Erebor. You knew from the beginning that the journey was going to last for a long time, yet you became rather sick of constantly wandering. 

Fili couldn’t blame you for it as he felt the same. He wanted to get Erebor back with his entire being but the journey was so long and tiring. What he missed the most was probably spending time with you. It’s not that you were separated now but Fili wanted some alone time with his beloved. 

After succesfully running into trolls, orcs and literally everything else, he felt oddly relaxed when they could settle down for the night. You didn’t get much of a chance for a peaceful night so he found it sort of weird. 

But he snatched you away from everyone to sit in a quiet corner. You didn’t do much there as both of you were too tired to even talk but you did listen to the stories the other dwarves and Bilbo had to share. Occasionally you would even laugh when the little hobbit said funny. 

“If this wasn’t a mission to get the mountain back, I would simply think we are out here to camp.” you commented. “It is rather cozy if you ignore the fact that we are chased by every being in Middle-Earth.”

“The elves aren’t chasing us.” he shrugged. “Not yet at least.”

“Should I be concerned of whatever you wish to do to change that?”

“Of course not, amrâlimê (my love).”

By his short answers, you could tell that Fili was exhausted so you just sighed and started stroking his hair. You could practically feel him melt under your touch. 

Soon you could hear his quiet snores. You gently pressed a kiss to his forehead as you got comfortable enough to fall asleep. It took you some time (thanks to the loud laughter near you) but you did manage to follow Fili to the land of dreams.

Aragorn:

Aragorn was used to fighting and you were too. No matter if you knew how to fight before you met Aragorn or not, you had no other choice but to learn. Aragorn made sure that nothing would happen to you, of course, but there were powers even him couldn’t protect you from. 

That being said, you traveled around Middle-Earth with him. He took you to a bunch of places. You were able to learn about a lot of different cultures. Especially while you were in Rivendell with Aragorn. 

But constantly moving and fighting did take it’s toll on you. When you finally had time to rest, you didn’t hesitate to do so. Aragorn on the other hand had some other business to attend to. 

While he was out, you decided to take a long awaited nap. You could feel the tension leave your muscles as you lied down. With a sigh you closed your eyes and almost immediately fell asleep. You only woke up to the sound of Aragorn entering the room. 

When you opened your eyes you saw the slouched form of your lover. You were still sleepy so you could barely comprehend what was happening so you just whispered ‘welcome’. After he didn’t respond you sat up and rubbed your eyes. 

“Is everything okay, my love?” you asked and he finally looked at you. Aragorn’s eyes weren’t as full of life as you remembered them. They looked dark and serious so you knew something had happened. 

You reached out for him and he gladly took your hand. Aragorn slowly laid down beside you taking your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to it. After that he rested his head on your chest as he put his arms around your waist. 

“Long day.” he muttered. “But it’s all better now.” 

You chuckled at that as you stroked his head. Aragorn hummed at your reaction before pressing a kiss to your chest. 

“Good night, Aragorn.” 

“Good night, melethen (my love).”

Soon you both were asleep. 

Gimli:

You knew the journey would be long, dangerous and tiring when you signed up for the Fellowship. And you did lose a lot. Boromir gave his life for the cause and that took it’s toll on you. 

Thankfully, Gimli was there to cheer you up. Sure he was a little unsure what to do but a few jokes did the thing. You smiled and laughed, which was enough to satisfy Gimli. That being said, he never stopped. He even got Legolas to share some encouraging words with you. 

But that didn’t make the journey less tiring. When you got the chance, you went to sleep only to be jolted awake by one of your friends saying that orcs are nearby. So constantly running around and killing orcs definitely didn’t help you relax. 

However, no matter how tired you felt, you promised Gimli that you would join the trio on that night’s party. And you did indeed join them; that was until your dwarven lover got beaten by Legolas in a drinking game. You had to drag Gimli away from the table before he could do something stupid. 

Gimli could barely stand on his feet by the time you got him to a place you could sleep at. You laid down, him following you. Not that he had much of a choice, seeing that he just groaned as he landed on your bed. 

You sighed as you pulled him on your chest. He grumbled something under his nose but you didn’t understand what it was. Gimli wrapped his arm around you and snuggled closer. 

“If you vomit on me, you’ll sleep in the main hall.” you whispered as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. 

“I’m not drunk.” he muttered. 

“Sure, love.” you sighed. 

You kept your eyes on the ceiling for a few minutes before you wanted to ask how your lover was feeling but the voice died in your throat when you heard his snores. With a smile, you closed your eyes finally being able to rest. 

[dylanmunson]

\ Joseph takes a liking to you /

requested via wattpad

part one wattpad | P2 / wattpad \ tumblr | P3 / wattpad \ tumblr

Master of Masterlists | Masterlist | Wattpad | Request

part two

so i had an idea, and its kinda to do with this request, and yes im using comic con as an example, and stfu, im using my cosplay and shit as examples and uhh yeah stfu. let me live my moment. 

wordcount: 1.3k | not sure how i feel about this but we move, mega word vomit. 

/////////////

It was comic con, and i had a photo op with joseph quinn. I had also managed to get an autograph signing for the following day, deciding against getting todays autograph slot as i knew today was going to be so much busier then tomorrow. 

Standing in the queue to get in, i see a bunch of stranger things cosplays, grinning to myself, the excitement fully setting in as i get my bag checked before entering the centre. Walking over to the big time table sheets on the wall i glance at my phone to check the time, knowing my photo slot is this afternoon, i decide to have a wonder around before making my way up to the photo area. 

Seeing the centre full of hellfire shirts and stranger things cosplays brings a stupid grin to my face, only having seen very few harleys, im quite happy with my cosplay of choice. I go round to a few tables looking at all the things for sale, deciding to buy a few things. 

Its now coming up to my photo op and im nervous, im about to meet the gorgeous man that is Joe Quinn. Making friends in the queue before my batch number is called, i get my ticket ready on my phone and make my way over to the staff member so they can scan it for me. Walking into the photo area i see joe smiling for photos with the other fans, trying to interact with them for as long as he can before the next comes along for their photo. Pushing my nerves aside as it soon comes to my turn. 

"Hi" i grin up at the beautiful man, his eyes even more gorgeous in real life, "hello love" he smiles, "could i get a cuddle?" i chuckle "yeah of course" he  grins wrapping his arms around me "how are you?" i mumble as the photos being taken, "im well, overwhelmed but well" he smiles down at me, i nod "thank you for taking time with everyone here, it really means alot" i smile, he puts a hand to his chest and smiles "its a pleasure love" he smiles. 

Im being ushered away, his hand slowly leaving my back "take care love" he says as i leave "bye!" i grin back at the man, he half smiles waving before the next fan is grabbing his attention. I wait for my photo to be printed before leaving the photo area and walking over to the friends that i had made during the day. 

"i fucking love that man" i sigh, putting my photo in a protective frame "hes so fucking pretty" i laugh. 

After that we walk around a little more, before deciding to head home, calling it a day as we're back tomorrow. 

/////

The next day, i didnt cosplay, i just wore a home made hellfire tee, since everywhere and i mean EVERYWHERE had sold out. A pleated skirt and my docs, i meet up with the people i had met yesterday stopping in a corner shop to grab some breakfast and drinks before heading to the centre. 

Upon entering the centre, you can already tell its going to be a some what of a quieter day. Going back to the big time table sheet on the wall, theres nothing about autographs, so we head straight to the autograph area since Joe doesnt have anything till lunchtime. 

The queue for him is moving, so we join at the end, showing the staff our tickets as we wait to see Joe again. Having packed my photo from yesterday for him to sign, i rock on my heels waiting for our turn. 

He comes in to view and he looks happy, tired but so happy to see all the support. It quickly becomes our turn and i let my friend go first as i stand back and film their interaction. "Hey sweetheart" he grins standing up, opening his arms, i bite my bottom lip, cheeks reddening as i walk forward into his arms, giving him a hug "how are you today love?" he smiles letting go, putting his hands on the tops of my arms. "I'm well, how are you" i smile at the curly haired man. "im well" he chuckles, i nod and pull out my photo "i didnt catch your name yesterday love" he smiles grabbing a black sharpie popping the lid off. "y/n" i smile, he nods "there you go beautiful" he smiles, resting his hand on top of mine. He looks to the staff member next to him, nodding his head. 

I frown, but dont say anything, not having a clue whats going on. "care to join me sweet?" he smiles standing up again, "uh sorry what?" i chuckle, he just smiles down at me "care to join me for a drink?" he smiles "i uh" "you dont have to i just" he stops "no id love to, but dont you have more signings?" "having a break before my talk" he grins, running a hand through his hair. I nod "ohh, makes sense." The staff member giving me a look before leading us to the celeb area. 

Quickly sending my friends a text to let them know i'll find them in a bit, i pop my phone back in my pocket and look up at joe, as he moves in front of me holding the door for me "why thank you kind sir" i giggle "a pleasure darling" he smiles putting his hand on my lower back as he enters behind me. We sit at a table in the corner, as he gets us both a cold drink and begins eating. I smile at the man and lean my head in my hand, elbow on table. 

"not that im not loving this but do you not want some quiet time" i say biting my lip, feeling my cheeks redden a bit. He smiles softly "i had to take my chance" he grins, i frown "what?" he lets out that little giggle he does, you know the one, you know what im talking about. He bites at his nails and looks at me again before saying "i'm not going to lie, you caught my eye, so" he grins, his cheeks now going a pink shade. "then when i saw you in the line, i knew i had to yano get to know ya" he chuckles running a hand through his hair, before wiping his hands on his jeans. 

"me?" i mumble pointing to myself, he nods. I scrunch up my nose covering my face feeling a massive blush take over. "adorable" he grins. 

"10minutes Joseph" someone says in our directions, he nods his head, letting out a little sigh. "do you maybe wanna grab a drink after?" he says finishing off his water. "uh, sure" i smile, handing him another bottle of water. "You gotta stay hydrated" i grin "its warm" he smirks "of course, here" he says handing me his phone, i frown taking it but realise hes set it up for me to put my number in. 

The heat not leaving my cheeks as i type my number in before handing it back to him. "i'll send you a message when im finished" he smiles, standing up i nod standing up beside him. "i'll see you later ok?" he mumbles pulling me in for another hug, i nod against his chest "see you later joseph" i mumble, "wait do you prefer joe or joseph?" i smile looking up at him, him smiling, like the smile where his dimples show. 

"i dont mind love, but i do like how joseph sounds" i nod, my cheeks now slightly aching from all the blushing and smiling. "Joseph" a man says walking over, "i'll see you later" he chuckles letting go of the hug, i nod "stay hydrated joseph" he chuckles saluting me as he leaves the celeb area. 

Munson Taglist @alicefallsintotherabbithole @steves-robin @onlydruig @tenderhornynihilist @itsyouimagines @witchsbitchestime @kyomiite @girl-with-an-orange-cat @flatoust11 @udontcarethisshit @chloepricerk800 @kellysimagines @caitfrogs @get-me-to-wonderland @bdpst-massacre @lagataprrr @goldenharrysworld @oo0lady-mad0oo @presidential-facts @qu7nn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ladyapplejackdnd @little-cupcake17 @meaganjm @dixontardis @megsrose @chaos-incorp @sourbutcalm143 @lieblingsmenzch @kbakery @positivevibesnlif3 @stcastwh00re @greatfandomsgalore @eddies-gf-86 @mariar597 @lothiriel9 @lesliemcawesome @chrisevansmarvelmcu @zdarie @notbeforelong @jayy-sins @witchy-bisexual @stephanie-lkj

[vamp-hollow]

Maybe do an Eddie x Black FTM reader? Maybe they are at a party ad confess their feelings for each other, Just a bunch of fluff!

THIS COULDNT HAVE COME AT A MORE PERFECT TIME.

Red Solos n Snuggles

Eddie Munson x Black! Ftm Reader

A/N: HALF OFNTHIS WAS WRITTEN BEFORE I WATCH VOL2 AND AFTER

Cw: vomiting,unsafe binding

“Eddie? ”

Your words snapped him out of his daydream. He was gripping the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure

“Oh [Name] sweet, sweet [Name]” Eddie leaned over, his signature cynical smile plastering his face

“Have I ever backed down from a challenge? Huh, Big boy?” He tilted his head to the side, awaiting your response

Eddie always called you pet names and he knew you loved it, hell he knew you loved it. Whenever you would get flustered your eyes would get wide and your breath shakey, it was his favorite reaction

“I-i guess not”

“Exaaaaaactly, so! We're gonna get in there, get shitfaced, annnd maybe cause a little mischief, who knows?” He giggled at his own words, locking the car and opening the heavy door for you

“Wait, Shouldn't you be babysitting Dustin?”

“Shouldn't you be not wearing that compression thing from hell?” Eddie responded.

Damn he got you there.

In an attempt to try and flatten your chest you did a hodgepodge of bandages tape and stitching to create some sort of compression top. It felt like hell and hurt like a bitch but you weren't gonna be there long so, it didn't matter, right?

Well, it did matter when you were 30 minutes into the party with no sign of Eddie. You prayed that he just ran off to get away and was not sitting in the corner somewhere surrounded by solo cups. He was the only one who could drive that rickety old van. When you tried it almost ended you both and the car in a ditch. You decided to gulp down the rest of whatever they had put out and stumble up the stairs on the hunt for him. You knew Eddie all too well so you had a rough idea of some hiding places he might be.

Crawling up the stairs felt like scaling a mountain. With each breath you took a sharp pain entered your chest. But you kept crawling eventually making it to the second floor. The pain was unbearable and you crawled into the nearest bedroom. Sprawling out on their bed, gasping for air. In your panic, you could hear loud thumping getting closer and closer until the door flung open and there he was. Eddie Munson, half sober.

“Oh my god oh my god [name]! [ Name]! are you ok? Can you hear me? [NAME]!” Eddie grabbed your shoulders tightly, shaking you. Although your vision was blurred and shakey, you could see eddies glossed over brown eyes, his tears fell back into your face, dripping into your nose bridge

“Mnhn? Imm fiinehn..” you swatted eddies face away with not much effort. You could hear Eddie clanging around for something once he found it. A cold metal shook through your body, causing you to shiver

Eddie was cutting off the makeshift binder, being careful not to accidentally nick you

Once he got it off, we went to go hug you but you turned on your side, not wanting to look at Eddie

“Cmon, [name we need to get you ho-] but before Eddie could finish his sentence, your body began to lurch forward. You were gonna hurl all over this poor girl's bed. But Eddie was quicker, he scooped you into his arms, and with a little struggle, he managed to get you to a bathroom that wasn't occupied by horny teenagers. You slung yourself over the toilet and began throwing up everything you drank at that party, you had gotten stomach acid all over your hair

“E..eddie my hair” you mumbled, continuing to throw up

“Er, are you sure? I don't wanna mess up any-

“JUST DO IT”

“Ok! Ok! Jeez” With a sift motion Eddie clumped all of your coils up into a fistful, being careful not to squeeze TOO hard

Once you were gone you sat there for a moment, Eddie got a paper towel and began wiping your face.

He had looked at you in a way that he never did before, he had a bright twinkle in his eye, he didn't even have to say anything and you could read his mind. He was ethereal he was-

“[Name]? Are…are you crying” he spike softly,

“Ugh uhm n-no I im not i….” You couldn't hold it anymore and you burst into tears, burying yourself into his shoulder, holding him for dear life. All Eddie could do was comfort you. rubbing your back while whispering affirmations

“J-just look at me, Eddie.. I'm a fucking mess that's what I am…I don't even know why you—you deserve a better friend Eddie, someone who not such a disa-

“Stop.”

You looked up at Eddie, your puffy eyes meeting his, he was also crying. You were so confused, why was he upset?

“Stop saying that about yourself [name] you're wonderful. You were someone who believed in me, who...WANTED to be friends with me even when I was an ance ridden freshie with bad hair” you both giggled in unison, Eddie pulled you closer.

“My point is [Name], You…are a highlight in my life. You've always seen me for who I was and not what others wanted me to be, and that…” Eddie cupped your face in his hands, your noses grazing each other only by inches

“I wouldn't change that for the world.”

“Eddie i-“

He pulled you into a kiss holding your face, and you returned the favor, you kissed him back with so much passion, so much heart your breaths were synchronized as he held your face closer, trying to invite his tongue into your mouth, which you accepted, his tongue felt like heaven, the way they molded together like a perfect puzzle piece, saliva dripping down both of your lips. He pulled away for breath pushing his hair out of the way

“Eddie you-“

“I-im sorry that was stupid wasn't it?” He mumbled looking away from you, his hands sliding off of you and back by his sides.

“Ed no i-“

“If you don't wanna talk about it we can-“

“EDDIE!”

He looked up at you, quite startled by you raising your voice

“Will you let me finish my sentences?” You said through giggled, Eddie immediately untensed up, giggling along with you

“ what did I scare you? Him scardey pants?”

“N-no” He looked away trying to hide his embarrassment with his hair, it was quiet for a moment before he grabbed you by your waist holding you in his lap and tickling your sides

“TICKLE FIGHT” he screamed

“EDDIE NO- HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA” you bellowed, you could barely catch a breath as he tickled you. Laying you into the tub before getting on top of you, putting his head into the crook of your neck

“Mnnh..you smell good” he mumbled, holding your hand tightly, planting soft kisses on it

“Why thank you, Eddie, it's called cocoa butter,” you said proudly, you loved when people complimented your scent.

“Like…cooking butter?” Eddie asked, you forgot he was white as paper, it was kinda cute.

“God Munson you're an idiot”

You two giggled and giggled in that tub till dawn, you stayed in that tub in each other's arms for hours and hours. You never wanted to leave.

This was the start of something beautiful.

[widowshaze]

midnight sadness | w. maximoff

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

summary: a short little one shot in which wanda hates birthdays and you make her love them again.

warnings: straight cuteness and fluff

word count: 2.6k

authors note: i don’t know why i wrote this, it’s honestly a bunch of word vomit and it’s shit (‘: but here it is, i hope you enjoy it <3 also thank you sm for 300 followers wtf ily guys

this is proofread to the best of my abilities, please ignore any mistakes (:

navigation | wanda maximoff masterlist

Hate is a strong word. A word that is used in the most extreme situations to describe how we feel about something. It isn’t a word that should be use so lightly, yet it is, and Wanda definitely uses it more often than not.

To say Wanda hated birthdays would be an understatement, if she could get rid of birthdays, the cake, the balloons, the celebrations and the presents, and just have every day be a normal day, she would, zero hesitation.

But unfortunately, life never worked in Wanda’s favor and this was one wish she would never get.

Growing up, Wanda liked the idea of birthdays, she loved waking up as a little girl, running into the living room to see the presents that her parents had set out for her, with a single balloon and a small cupcake with rainbow frosting, which was her favorite.

Wanda and her twin Pietro always had their own cupcake until they turned the young age of 10, and it was then that the two decided to share a cake, and one would blow out each numbered candle.

The fond memories of her childhood with Pietro were enough to bring tears to the young woman’s eyes as she stared up at the starry night sky, hoping and praying that Pietro was watching over her.

Wanda glanced over at her nightstand, looking at the bright red numbers that lit up her clock, noting that the time read 11:55. She sighed to herself as she picked at her nails, not wanting it to be tomorrow, not wanting it to be her birthday.

This is the first birthday she will be celebrating without Pietro. The first birthday that he won’t come running into her room to jump on her bed and wake her up. The first birthday that he won’t be waiting in the kitchen with a freshly baked cake, with their age lit up with numbered candles as they blew them out together. The first birthday she’ll be missing her second half.

It was to no surprise that Wanda and Pietro were inseparable growing up, and the pair grew even closer when their parents died. The love and adoration that Pietro had for his sister was incredible. She was so strong willed and brave even after everything they had been through and he couldn’t of been a more proud older brother, even if he was only older by 12 minutes.

And Wanda felt the same way about Pietro, she looked up to her brother and saw nothing but good in him. He was so selfless, always putting others before himself. He didn’t have to run in front of Clint and the little boy that he was trying to protect to save them, but Pietro was Pietro so of course he did, taking his own life to spare that of a child.

Wanda was broken to say the least when Pietro died. The Avengers, as well as Clint’s family, we’re beyond grateful for the heroic act Pietro had done. So they took Wanda in under their wing and she was graciously accepted as one of their own. Wanda wasn’t used to this, she wasn’t used to the love from so many people, because it had been just her and Pietro for the majority of their lives, and that’s all she was used to.

She couldn’t deny the fact that she loved all of the idiots, especially a certain Avenger. Wanda adored you. Not only as an Avenger, but as a person. You were the most strongest and will-powered person that Wanda had ever encountered and she immediately took a liking to you.

It was to no surprise that the two of you hit it off quick, being the only two female Avengers, it left very few people for her to interact with and you loved having something other than testosterone invading your personal space.

You felt sympathy for the young little witch when you first found out about Pietro. You were grateful for him, he had saved your teammates life, you would forever be in debt to Pietro and the sacrifice he made. You almost made it your mission to make Wanda feel welcome at the compound, to make her feel at home and that she wasn’t alone, that she did have family even if half of them were raging idiots.

So it came to a shock that when you were coming back from your late night walk around the compound, that you heard quiet sobs coming from Wanda’s room.

Wanda was sat on her bed, knees pulled up to her chest with her face buried in them as she cried. The time had just struck midnight and it was officially her birthday, their birthday. She half expected to see Pietro come running into her room and begin to jump on her bed as he did so many mornings before while he sang a shitty version of happy birthday to her.

Her heart broke even more when she realized that Pietro wasn’t going to be coming at all and she cried harder.

Her head snapped up quickly from where it was just resting on her knees when she hears three soft knocks being gently placed on the outside of her door.

“Wanda?” You called out softly. “It’s- It’s me. It’s Y/N.”

Wanda let out a small breath of relief when she realized that it was you who was on the other side of the door. With a quick flick of her finger, she unlocked the door to allow you entry, allowing you to quickly open the door and take in the sight before you.

A small gasp escaped from your slightly parted lips as you rushed over to climb on the bed next to Wanda, pulling her tightly into your embrace and holding her close against your chest as you raked your fingers through her hair to try and calm her down.

“Oh my darling..”

And Wanda broke down for the second time that night. Sobs wracked her body as she cried into you, gripping your shirt and burying her face deep into the crevice of your neck.

You did your best to try and calm the young woman down, rubbing her back and whispering soft words into her ear. You didn’t know what was wrong with Wanda, and your heart broke at the fact that if you hadn’t of taken your routine walk, Wanda probably would’ve been left here to cry alone.

So you sat there, holding Wanda in your arms, pressing soft kisses to the top of her head every so often as you rocked her, letting her cry and just get whatever emotions she needed to get out.

Eventually, Wanda calmed down, your calming and protective presence was enough to help keep her grounded and safe as she tried to stop the tears from rolling down her face. She pulled back ever so slightly as she wiped at her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “I’m sorry,” is all Wanda was able to say as she looked up at you, tear stains littering her cheeks.

You were worried, you cared deeply for the little witch, more than you knew, and you hated seeing her like this. The last time you had seen Wanda like this was the first few weeks after Ultron. Wanda kept herself locked in her room for weeks upon end and all that could be heard from her room was quiet sniffles as she mourned the death of her brother.

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” You finally spoke after you had sat in silence for a few minutes, brushing some falling strands of hair out of Wanda’s face as you stared at the woman in before you with nothing but love and compassion radiating in your eyes.

Wanda sniffled some more as she debated on telling you why she was crying. She was slightly embarrassed for sobbing in front of you, leaving your neck and part of your shirt soaked from her tears. She also didn’t want anyone knowing it was her birthday, she didn’t tell anyone when she first arrived when it was, even against their protests.

Tony always has a thing for throwing big parties for absolutely no reason and the last thing that she wanted was for him to throw some extravagant party to celebrate her, when it should be a celebration for her and Pietro.

She looked away from your gaze, and went back to staring at her fingers as she picked at them, before mumbling something so softly that she could barely be heard.

“What was that darling? Can you speak up, please?” You asked so kindly and Wanda could’ve started crying again from the sincerity that laced your voice.

“It’s my birthday..” she finally managed to say as she looked up at you, a look of shock yet surprise written on your face.

“Oh kitten, why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“My birthday isn’t important.” Wanda deadpanned as she went back to picking at her nails. You grabbed Wanda’s hands in your own, interlacing your fingers together.

“Of course your birthday is important. It’s a celebration of life.” You said and a single tear fell down Wanda’s cheek.

“What is there to live for when your only family is dead?” You sighed and pulled Wanda back into another tight embrace.

“I’m so sorry that Pietro isn’t here, really Wanda, I am. He died saving the life of a child, something he shouldn’t of had to do. But he wouldn’t want to see you like this Wanda,” you paused as you took the younger woman’s face between your hands and wiped at her tears with your thumbs. “He would want to see you celebrating another year of life. He would want you to be happy, eating cake and and opening presents like you told me you used to do with him. More importantly, we can use this day to celebrate him, to celebrate the life of Pietro Maximoff, a hero, an Avenger, and most importantly, a brother.”

By the time you had stopped talking, Wanda was crying again. She had never experienced so much kindness from one person before and it was overwhelming.

The one thing she had never done was look at it from that perspective. You were right, Pietro would not want her locked up in her room, crying all day. He would want her to celebrate, to have fun and be with her new family. More importantly, it could be used as a day to celebrate Pietro and the amazing life that he did have.

Wanda looked at the beauty in front of her with love and adoration as she took in the words spoken to her. You continued rubbing soft circles on her cheeks with your thumbs as you watched her.

“Why don’t you some rest little witch? We’re going to celebrate your birthday today.” Wanda smiled at the little nickname you had given her, although she wasn’t ready to let you go just yet, you made her feel safe, something she had never felt with anyone before besides her own brother.

“Do you uhm,” Wanda hesitated for a second as she began to ask her question, you just watched her, waiting for her to finish but sighed when you saw the hesitation written all over her face.

“Do you want me to stay, Wands?” You asked softly and Wanda nodded, before burying herself under her sheets and cuddling with the duvet. You smiled to yourself as you took in the sight before you, looking more than comfortable within the safety of her bed and you didn’t think you’d ever be able to leave her again.

So you climbed into the bed after her, burying your own self under the covers, and opening your arms for Wanda to crawl into. Wanda happily obliged and cuddled herself right up against you and sighed in content, listening to your heartbeat to lull her into a deep sleep.

You found herself watching Wanda as she slowly breathed and feel deeper into sleep, stroking her hair and admiring the features on her face. You were always attracted to the little witch, it wasn’t a shock to anybody but yourself when you finally admitted your feelings out loud. Her ocean eyes were so captivating that you caught yourself staring into them far too often. You loved how Wanda crinkled her nose when she smiled, it was so adorable that you almost melted at the sight when you saw her do it for the first time, the first time you had ever seen her smile.

You smiled to yourself as you felt Wanda’s grip tighten around your waist as she snuggled further into you. You could definitely get used to this. It wasn’t long before you found yourself drifting off to sleep, holding Wanda tightly in your arms as you did.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Wanda woke up, stretching slightly and reaching her hand out to feel for you but was only met with cold sheets. She frowned as she sat up, looking around her room for any sign of you and was disappointed when you were no where to be found.

She got out of bed, checking the time to see it was half past 9, so she decided to go downstairs to the kitchen, knowing a lot of the team were probably training and it would be fairly empty. She grabbed a fresh hoodie on the way out of her bedroom and threw it on as she padded down the stairs to the kitchen.

She was not prepared for what was waiting for her.

“Happy Birthday!” The whole team cheered when Wanda stepped foot in the kitchen and she let out a shriek of surprise as she held her hands up, small red balls forming into the palm of her hands.

“Calm down little witch, it’s just us.” You spoke up first as Wanda finally took in her surroundings. The entire team was there, Sam, Steve, Tony, Bruce, Clint, Thor, Nat and even Carol seemed to have stopped by when she found out there was going to be a surprise party for Wanda.

They all had cheesy happy birthday hats on as well as those glittery tubes that when you blow in them they make that ear piercing sound. And Wanda couldn’t help the tears that began to fill her eyes as she was overwhelmed with love and gratitude for the people who stood in front of her.

You were the first to make her way over to Wanda before wrapping her up in a tight embrace. “Happy birthday sweets,”you whispered in her ear before placing a kiss on her cheek.

“I thought you had left me this morning..” Wanda spoke soft enough that only you could hear what was being said. You just smiled and tucked some loose hair behind her ear.

“Oh no, I wanted to surprise you, you deserve this. Now stop your crying and dig in, we made your favorite, chocolate cake! I made it myself just for you.” You smiled brightly, placing yet again another soft kiss to the woman’s cheek as you clapped your hands together and made your way over to the cake, slapping Nat’s hand away as you scolded her for yet again going in to swipe some of the frosting off on her finger.

Wanda couldn’t help the smile that broke across her own face as she was bombarded with hugs from the rest of the team as they all wished her a happy birthday. She could definitely get used to this. She finally felt at home for the first time since arriving at the compound, being surrounded by so many people that loved her.

So as she stared lovingly at you as you had your hands outstretched in her direction, holding a plate with a piece of cake on it, with her age lit up on those dorky numbered candles, Wanda felt at peace.

Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all.