#so i went with my favorite animal crossing shirt

[cherrycarat]

annual birthday self portrait refresh

[ratsonastick]

Shirt

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!reader

It’s been a few months since you two broke up, but that doesn’t mean you both still don’t love each other.

Warnings - small make out 😛

It had been a few months since you and Clarisse had broken up. The two of you were getting into arguments, and at some point, you believed that maybe the two of you just didn’t mix, and were best separated.

And yet you still couldn’t help yourself wanting to see her again.

You found yourself one cold night sneaking into the Ares cabin (which was a risky business) but Clarisse taught you tricks.

You walked up the stairs of the cabin to the second floor where you saw a dimly lit room (let’s pretend some campers get their rooms for good reasons —- Clarisse’s reason is that she probably fought for it….)

You knocked on it gently waiting, and finally, it opened to reveal the curly head girl. “Y/n?”

“I can’t find my stuffed animal…” you thought of a lie. Clarisse knew that sounded wrong, you took great care of your animals. “A stuffed animal?”

You hummed softly and nodded your head. Clarisse sighed and shook her head, opening the door for you to step in. Even though you two are separated, Clarisse still has such a large soft spot for you.

You knew where you would’ve lost one … if you did. And that was in the crack between her bed and wall.

You started to look, stuffing your hand down and trying to feel for anything. When you did you gasped softly out of surprise. But when you pulled the item up it was simply a shirt. Your shirt.

“Hey! I thought you said you didn’t have this!” You frowned looking at Clarisse who seemed a bit embarrassed.

Your favorite shirt that had gone missing was here the whole time. You kept looking back and forth but then tossed the shirt onto the ground behind you, trying to continue your act.

Clarisse picked up the shirt and folded it, placing it behind her pillow hoping this went unnoticed by you.

After a few minutes she let out a soft laugh “Okay Y/n, you just look stupid.” She stood behind you, her hands itching to rest on your hips but instead, they fell to her side.

You sit up, your back hitting her stomach before you lean forward to create distance.

“Well luckily and unluckily I didn’t find my animal … so I guess I’ll just leave.”

But she paused your movements before you could get up from the bed “Just sit there for a moment.”

She turned around and walked to her closet, shuffling inside. You sat on her bed looking around the room you had been in endless amounts of times.

Then you noticed your shirt that was tucked under her pillow and you smiled.

Clarisse stood up and turned around with an animal that you didn’t even know was missing. Your mouth dropped.

“Is this what you wanted?” You nodded your head and reached your arms out to which she gave you the animal.

“If you knew it was there the whole time why did you make me go through that struggle?” You mumbled shyly, to such hehe just shrugged her shoulders.

“I had a good view,” she teased, which made you look down at your lap.

“I should get going.” You announced as you stood up from the bed.

“Or you could stay.” She mumbled as she leaned against her shelf, her arms crossed.

“Clar” you mumbled out her nickname “you know that’s a bad idea.”

She shrugged her shoulders “So is having a bunch of demigods run around fighting monsters, but you don’t see people complaining.”

“Yeah but … we broke up for a reason, I just don’t want to have to do it again.” You answered truthfully.

“Okay, so we don’t.” She spoke, her face serious as she walked closer. “Clarisse don’t do this … you know that’s not gonna work.”

“Then I’ll make it work … I’ll beg Aphrodite to help me … just like I begged her to help me get you in my room again.” She spoke softly, a small smirk on her face as her hands met your hips.

They dipped under your baggy shirt finding the small piece of skin she always liked to circle with her thumbs.

“Come on princess … I’ll make it worth your wild.” She spoke softly, moving her head slightly so she could try to meet your eyes.

Your skin was starting to turn warm, and she only brought you further towards her.

You dipped your head back and let out a soft groan, but only seconds later did you feel a soft pair of lips kissing your pulse point.

And that was it.

Your hands moved to tangle in her hair and she pulled you closer. And it wasn’t long till you were lying in her bed, her on top of you, hands exploring everything she missed.

While one hand was tangled in her hair, as she planted another fresh hickey on your neck, the other traveled to her pillow.

Where you once again felt your shirt, “Clar” you mumbled as you opened your eyes.

“Mhmm” she hummed softly, focusing on the middle of your neck while her hand traveled under your shirt.

“What’s with my shirt under your pillow?”

The question made her movements falter and she looked up at you. “It was the only thing left I had of you that still had your scent.”

“Aww, what a softie.”

“Shut up”

A/N - TAKING CHARACTER X READER REQUESTS!!

[lovetei]

Wassup my children I came back with the(ir) milk :b

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MC and their boy toys or the characters with a toxic MC

Warnings: Wrong use of car, smut, wrong grammar, wrong spellings, overstimulation, orgasm denial, semi-public, the reader is Implied to have a strap or a disco stick but not specified, bottom characters, not choking but air deprivation

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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LUCIFER

He is one of the most regal personalities in the whole of Hell

So thinking that he would be submissive, to a human at worst, will not even cross a normal demons mind

But that does not stop him from falling into your alluring spell now

Being ready to please and even walk on all fours just for his favorite human behind closed doors

You slammed the door open and when Lucifer heard that familiar entrance he just can't help but stand up from his seat out of instinct "I-Is there something wrong..?" He stuttered out, getting too excited knowing what will come next.

You wasted no time, closing and locking the door immidiately and making your way into his desk. Carrying him and slamming him into his own desk before you buried your tongue down his throat.

You ripped his shirt open and exposed his neck before you buried your teeth in it, leaving the beautiful marks he will treasure every morning in front of the mirror.

"M-My love... Please answer my question-" He begged just to got quite down when your hands gripped his cheeks "Shut the fuck up now, since when did I let you talk without permission?" He gulped at your response, a twisted feeling of lust rising up his stomach.

MAMMON

People knows how much Mammon treasures his previous cars

Not even letting his brothers use it and only driving it when going into casinos saying that it brings him luck when he do so

But that's not what MC knows when he made Mammon drive that car in a hidden spot inside a forest almost every night.

"S-SHIT SHIT SHIT FUCKK FUCK B-BABY PLEASE!~" His moans grew louder and louder as your pace went faster and faster, moving yourself up and down his already bruised hips.

"W-Wait pl-ease!~" With that final phrase his hips bucked up meeting yours with his third release for the night.

"NOoO PLEaSE, STOP STOP STop stop!" He continued to beg as his sobbed interrupted with his speech after he noticed that you're still not stopping.

LEVIATHAN

He locks himself up for three reason, that's what he tell everyone and he refuses to elaborate

But what the people know is that one of the reasons is that he doesn't like to socialize

Another reason is because of his obsession with his anime and games

But the third reason remained unknown for everyone else except for you and Levi

"N-NO I-I'M NOT IGNoriNG YoU MASTER!" His speech slurred as his legs that is placed on your shoulders shook violently as you repeatedly abused his hole with that new toy you got.

He knows his begging is not working when he felt the vibration get more stronger "AH HAH FUCK FUCK fUcK PLeaSE!" drool seeped out the side of his lips as he tried to refrain his hips from pushing the toy deeper.

"I C-CAME! MANY! MANY!" He repeated over and over again as his brain started to shut down out of all the stimulation he have been feeling since earlier.

SATAN

Satan loves the library like it's his own child

He likes the smell of old books

And the quietness inside

Of course, he loves the activities you do inside of it too.

You removed your lips off of his cock making a lewd pop sound before saying "Keep your mouth shut." as you smirked while looking at the poor blonde who's legs are on your shoulders and his hand covering his mouth so obediently.

His eyes are starting to cross as he nod his head obediently. You took him in back to your mouth making him arch his back "N-NoOo! Cum-CumMING!" with that his hips bucked forward, pushing himself deeper down your throat.

You looked up at him as you swallowed his load "Hah! HAH! U-Ugh F-FUck!" He won't stop panting as he gripped the shelves behind him as if his life depends on it before his tears went down "T-Too much!"

ASMODEUS

People always wondered why the social butterfly Asmo started renting private rooms in the club when he's with MC

Maybe

If they turned their music down a little

And stick their head on the door of the private room, they will now.

"A-AH! So GOooOD!" His voice cracked as you ride his cock, even faster than before right after he came.

How many rounds has it been? Three, five? He doesn't remember anymore. All he remembers is that you bent him up and started riding him like the complete slut he is for you.

His loud moans that matches the rhythm of your pace is such a beautiful melody "T-TreAT Me SH-SHOooO goOod!" His speech slurred as his hips moved upwards because of another orgasm.

BEELZEBUB

Beel I known for the emotionless expression he wears everytime

But this class is different

He seemed disturb and hot? Looks like he's bothered...

You made Beel sit in the back with you for two reason, one is because you already know the lesson and two because you wanted to see how long he can keep that expression while you're jerking him off under the table.

"U-Uh..." Is all he can muster up as his legs shook after all the orgasm denial you gave him, you can't let him stain the table with cum now can you?

Right when he started twitching, you moved your hands up and down even faster and stopped it right on the edge again but surprisingly he grabbed your hand and refused to let your hand off his dick.

Guiding your hand to continue moving.

BELPHEGOR

They thought you simply forgive Belphegor for the crime he did

For killing you

But what they didn't know is that you're making him experience it too.

You grabbed him by the hair and lifted his head up from getting buried in a pillow "H-HWAH!" He panted, finally breathing the air you deprived him off earlier.

Right after he started panting, wails and cries escaped him as you pound his ass "S-SHIT! MC!" He managed to scream between sobbs as he felt how his ass is already bruising from how long you've been fucking him.

"I-I'm SO SORry!" His back arched as he shoot another load, adding to the puddle of cum bellow him and yet you never stopped "PLeaSe S-Low DOWN ATleAst!" He wailed before you pushed his head back to the pillow.

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[kevcanwait]

𝙰 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝙲𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝/ 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘

𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯

𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘓𝘦𝘦 𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘣𝘪𝘯

𝘍𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘏𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘫𝘪𝘯

𝘍𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘏𝘢𝘯

𝘚𝘪𝘹𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘍𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘹

𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘚𝘦𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘮𝘪𝘯

𝘌𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘑𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪𝘯

𝘕𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘳: 𝘛𝘣𝘥

You honestly loved your job at Buzzfeed, who would've thought you would get to a point where you get to hang out with famous artists and actors for a day? Intern you would never believe it!

You've only made videos with one other person, like Tom Holland and Dove Cameron, but the moment you you were told you were doing more than one person, you were beyond nervous. The next celebrity, or celebrities, you were to hang out with was kept a secret from you, all you were told was to be packed and ready to fly somewhere with some of your crew, apparently everything had already been planned, that's never happened before, you tended to plan as the day went on.

On the plane, your camera operator and best friend gave you the list of activities. The names were covered and some activities as well, all you knew was that you were painting, baking, and going to a gym. "Wait, a gym? I have to work out?" You asked her and she laughed at your expression. You do work out but it's practically rare.

You also had no idea what flight you got on, you just followed the people you knew and your best friend, Sara, took your ticket before you could read it while Eric, your co-editor, covered your eyes and ears.

The moment the pilot welcomed everyone to Seoul, your jaw drops and you turn to Sara. "You're kidding, wait, who are we here to see? Who am I hanging out with?" You kept spewing questions but they wouldn't answer. Not just yet.

Next you find yourself blindfolded again before being walked into a building. You stood off to the side as you heard your team set up and then you were put in front of the camera, the blindfold taken off you and Sara fixed your hair before stepping away and you look towards the camera confused, you go to turn to look around but were told not to as Sara queued you to start.

"Hello everyone, it's Mn, and welcome to another episode of 'A day with a celeb'. I'm gonna be honest, I have no clue who today's guest is, I was told absolutely nothing but today, um..." Sara zoomed in on your face as you furrowed your brows. "We're Seoul, South Korea." You chuckle nervously. "Um, the only suspicion I have is that I'm going to be hanging out with my first K-pop idol or idols, I was told there was more than one."

"What group do you think you're hanging out with?" Sara asked you with a grin. "Girl, that smile is so creepy." You laugh and you hear a snicker behind you which made you jump (It was Felix, shh). "Wait, is there someone behind me?" "Mn, just answer the question." "Um, Ateez would be pretty cool to hang out with- Oh, wait, you gave me a list." You pull it out of your pocket and unfold it.

"The names are crossed out but there's some activities that I can read. There's eight things crossed out and I can only read cafe, painting, gym, and shop. That doesn't give me much." Sara laughs, her gaze appears to be over your shoulder. "Mn, real quick, can we film your ootd?" "U-Um sure." You readjust your footing and put the paper away. "Today I'm wearing Converse, Jeans, a cream shirt with a little blue pocket, and a Maniac Varsity Jacket from my favorite small business. They customized it to have Wolf.Chan from Stray Kids peaking out the pocket." You point to the embroidery with a smile.

"Who's peaking out of the pocket?" "Um, Chan's animal counterpart, he the leader of-" "Heard someone call my name." An arm is suddenly draped over your shoulders and you look to your left as the sudden arm around you made you jump but your immediately walking away with a scream, hiding your now rapidly warming face as you turn completely, only to be met with the other members as well.

"Are you kidding me?!" You turn to Sara who's laughing with the others. "You are so evil!" You jokingly scold her as Chan approaches you, you cover your face as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you back in front of the camera, seeing as you ran off behind the camera out of shot.

"This can't be real, is this really happening?"

You have to be dreaming.

You get to spend the day...With Stray Kids?!

[bloodynectarine]

Pants are for the weak, and I'm strong af

MC refuses to wear pants. Chaos ensues.

tags. male mc, amab reader, shameless mc, mix of crack and fluff, slightly suggestive content (a healthy dose of horny grip), all the brothers.

notes. this is my first fic ever and my debut post, oof, sweats. what does one says. open up? enjoy the meal? come back soon?

After everything you've been through since your arrival at Devildom, including (but not limited to) a murder (yours, to be precise), you've slowly but surely carved your own way into the brothers' chaotic life.

Every time you wake up tangled in Mammon's arms and legs, you simply snuggle in, even when you were pretty sure you went to sleep to an empty bed the night before.

Walking around school holding Satan's arm feels as natural as breathing, and if you end up close enough to lay your head on his shoulder, so be it.

Whenever Asmo crosses the room to fix your hair or touch your face, rambling about how long your lashes are, how soft your skin feels, you lean in and bask in the attention.

Naps with Belphie are an everyday thing now: you let him lay on top of you, hide his face against your neck and snuggle anywhere between fifteen and forty minutes.

You already know every single one of Beel's eating habits. You can tell when a 108 seeds salad will do the job, and when you'll have to phone Barbatos, asking for his Bloody Terrine recipe.

Anime binges with Levi have introduced you to so many new series you love, and the amount of inside jokes the two of you share is probably a bit unhealthy.

If Lucifer decides to make eye contact with you from across the table at dinner, you have no problem to hold it, and if you let out the secret smile here and there, you're rewarded with an identical one.

They love it. They indulge in the way you let one wall down after the other, relishing in your company, constantly wondering, how close can they get? How much can they take from you before you stop them?

And still, when yet another wall crumbles down, and you show up late for breakfast one fateful Sunday morning with nothing but a long white t-shirt on —rubbing your eyes, tumbling in, clearly more asleep than awake—, the silence is loud, deafening.

“Legs” is the first thing that Asmo blurts out, immediately shutting up at the glare he gets from Lucifer. Nothing and no one can stop him from looking though.

“What? What leg?” You ask, voice low, slow, and drowsy as you sit down on the only available seat, between Levi and Beel.

Not even half a second later Levi gets up, muttering something about someone please switch places with me, do you want me to die, is that what you want, a shitty otaku like me isn't built for this, this is one of my favorite tropes--.

On cue, Mammon and Satan get up and rush to take the now free seat. The winner is Mammon, “That should teach ya!! Taste the power of the second born! THE Mammon!” he shrieks, loud but uncharacteristically evasive, face and neck as red as they get whilst holding intense eye contact with Levi's cereal bowl.

You laugh, as you always do, no longer surprised by their weird antics. “What's with that? Already fighting, so early on?” Elbow on table, cheek on hand, and the oversized t-shirt slides down, flashing an incredibly soft-looking shoulder.

While Levi chokes up with his own saliva and Beel reminds him he needs to breathe, Belphie sighs and shakes his head, unfazed, biting into his toast “Humans are pretty oblivious, uh? So dumb”, and if he moves his chair a little bit closer to try to get a better look, it's no one's business but his.

“Calling me dumb as soon as I get here? Mean”, you halfheartedly complain. Belphie might be onto something this time though: you have no idea what's going on.

Beel resumes chewing as he puts down a half-eaten cookie in front of you, “Saved this one for you”, which gets him a smile. In the next breath, Asmo puts two cookies (unchewed) on your plate “And I saved these for you, honey”, which gets him an even brighter smile.

Before everything gets out of control —he can already see his brothers wrestling until filling up your plate to the brim—, Lucifer decides it's time to intervene, “MC. Where are your pants.”

It's not a question, you notice. You scratch your neck and tilt your head, suddenly overly-conscious of your attire (or lack thereof) “Well. In my room. I hope.”

That gets you an exasperated sigh. Weird, that was even faster than usual. “Let me ask once again, and this time answer accordingly. Why are you not wearing your pants.”

“Oh. Haha. Actually, it's super funny” It's not. “But, you see, back in the human world I used to do this all the time.”

“This as in… Walking around naked?” Satan is the one asking, but while Lucifer sounds every bit of judgmental, he sounds playfully curious, his voice carries an obvious smile, even as he tries to hide it behind his mug (it's the one you got him, with cat ears, and a heart-shaped tail as the uncomfortable-looking handle).

“Not naked” How ridiculous would that be? You roll your eyes, reaching for your own mug (the one that has “Why be a demon hunter when you can be a demon kisser?” in bold red letters) and stopping halfway, thinking. “Surely I'm wearing boxers right now.” And to corroborate that you are, in fact, not walking around naked, you look down and lift the shirt. Just to be sure.

You've barely got a glimpse of black fabric (great, you didn't forget, that could've been embarrassing) when Mammon comes back to life, reaching out with both hands and pulling down to cover you once again, with more than enough strength. “Oi, oi, oi! W-w-what do ya think ya're doin'?! Are ya really that stupid?! Don't go around lettin' them s--”

A glimpse of your left nipple as the t-shirt slides even lower is apparently the straw that broke the demon's back, if the multiple gasps and squeals, delighted giggles (pretty sure those are Asmo's) and Lucifer's loud groan are any indicative.

“Enough. From now on, pants and t-shirts that actually fit are mandatory in and out the house.”

“Thank you, but no, thank you. I can't go back to wearing pants, they're suffocating. Also, it's only inside the house, so it should be okay, right?”

“It wasn't a question, this isn't about you agreeing or not, it's regulatory, and--”

“I say, if my darling doesn't want to wear pants, let him be, maybe it's a strange human tradition? We should join him!”

“That can't be the case, I haven't read anything like that before.”

“C-couldn't you at least wear a longer t-shirt? I'm going to pass out, it's exactly the same as in the second episode of I Turned Into a Bat Thinking My Childhood Friend Wouldn't Care But We Ended Up Married in The Afterlife where the protagonist--”

“It looks comfortable, MC. You probably can eat a lot in that.”

“And naps in a long t-shirt are the best, right? We should test it out. Right after breakfast.”

“Oi!! No! It's a no-go! Don't ya think I don't see ya lookin' at my human all over! Do I need to remind y'all who his first man is--”

“I don't see why it is such a big deal”, you mumble, pointedly not looking in Lucifer's direction, finally biting into a cookie as you let the t-shirt slide and move as it pleases, feeling snug and comfy in its embrace. So soft. “Aren't we all guys? There's nothing that I have that you don't.”

You continue chewing, eyes widening at a sudden realization “Or there is?” you ask, mouth full of cookie, trying to recall your limited knowledge in Demon Anatomy. Not your best subject, if you're being honest.

And thus a new round of shouting and squealing starts, so chaotic that getting a word in is impossible.

Or, at least was, until the ringing of the bell stops everyone in its tracks. Getting a few crumbs off your hands with the help of your very controversial t-shirt, you get up, walking towards the door with all the confidence of someone who's actually wearing pants.

It seems like ages since the last time all seven siblings agreed on something, but right now, they all scream in unison “Don't open the door!”.

ao3 ― writing tag

[howwnowbrowncoww]

Been working on this for a few months now but I finally got it done! I've seen a few Yakuza/Like a Dragon x Animal Crossing crossovers and really wanted to do one too, and I'm super happy with how it turned out:) Seeing all of the Dondoko Island comparisons to AC right before I finished this was HILARIOUS though😂 Gonna put some loose notes under a read more if you want behind the scenes stuff. Let me know who your favorite design is if you want:)

Adding what animal everyone is (just in case it's hard to tell and because I want to talk about why I made some of them certain animals)

Ichiban: Lion (he has a very loud personality and very loud hair)

Adachi: Bear (I will restrain myself from making any bear jokes but he does look like he'd give great bear hugs)

Nanba: Koala (okay, weird reason, but my sister used to have this webkinz koala named Snoozer (he was the mayor of our imaginary town but that's not important) and he was obvs always sleepy, and Nanba is the KING of convenient naps in battle)

Saeko: Deer (i really just thought she'd love to paint her hooves)

Joon-gi: Wolf (typical lone-wolf-type with white hair who is dragged into the found family). He also gets the bar bg because he never got his own karaoke song and he deserves to have fun:)

Zhao: Tiger (i specifically remember him having a tiger in his restaurant that kicked my ass, and I also wanted to base him off of one of his martial arts moves. Since Snake and Mantis aren't AC types, and Crane was already being used, I thought Tiger was fitting. Also his shirt was a pain to make!! I couldn't replicate the actual pattern, so I went with ginkgo leaves for something that was still gold and sort of ornate)

Eri: Crane (inspired by her move (called 'Flying Crane' or something like that; i'm too lazy to boot up the game and check lol) Plus I think birds would really enjoy the crackers her company sells:)

[postmodernbeliever]

sick and twisted- fox mulder x female reader (smutsmutsmutsmut)

in a sudden bout of sickness, you are staying with fox, who is yearning to take care of you (...in more ways than one.)

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hope you enjoy this incredibly horny thing... wrote this as i worked through raging period hormones <333 (sometimes i still get a little nervous to post these but yknow what. if im thinking it someone else is too probably. so yolo)

my ao3 | word count: 2,906

content tags: soft dom fox mulder, fox mulder the top of every girl's dreams, domestic fluff, fluff and smut, sickfic, sick reader, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering & sex, plus size reader if you squint, past fox was a little plus size if you ALSO SQUINT!!!!, idiots in love, pet names, smut, pain relief, talking you through it bc he's a nice boy, cross-posted on ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

it was twisted, the way fox was turned on by you being sick. it checked every fantasy in his head off the list and you didn't even know.

by the time you got off work last night, you felt the brain fog rolling in, and you came straight to fox’s place instead of your own- and he was more than happy to oblige you. he wanted to set you up in his bed, but you refused, so he made you a little home on his couch, fixed with his good pillows and the blanket you designated as your own months ago. the man had been itching to come home all day. his brain was so out of the loop, in fact, that he handed dana a case report only half completed, with sentences stopping midway through. his partner had to force him out of the office just so he didn’t screw anything else up, but he couldn’t care less, because he was on his way home to his girl. he even went to the store to get you ginger ale and animal crackers, because he knows that’s your favorite remedy. and god, if you weren't everything he’d been dreaming of since he left you last. 

you were splayed out on his couch beneath a blanket, coughing up a storm. your nose was red and irritated from blowing it into so many tissues, lips swollen from all the chapstick and chewing; a glassy, sleepy look glazed over your eyes, and your skin paled everywhere but your cheeks, which were flushed in a pretty little smear across your face. you were in his old academy t-shirt, which left room to breathe- he was a bit bigger back then, lucky for you- and a little pair of boxers that were hiked up your thighs from sitting in them all day. you were the vision he couldn’t have conjured even if he tried. he wished that they could make a calendar of just you, looking like this, for every month until he died. but above all, your voice was the part that truly drove him up the wall. you didn’t think of the raspiness as much more than grating, but to him? gruff, weak, gentle, needy, undeniably brutally irrefutably hot- he had a thesaurus written just to put it to words. every word that fell from your lethargic lips was like music to his ears; he could listen to your stuffy breathing forever.

fox had been taking care of you, despite your protests to leave you be. you didn't want to get him sick, but he didn't care. he insisted on keeping you company and doing mindless work at his living room desk until you felt like getting back into the world. that was another thing. seeing you helpless and dependent on him, needing him to feel better… he loved that. he loved spoiling you, feeding you, treating you like a princess. that's what you were to him. there was so much in his life that was out of his control, that he couldn’t protect, but you were the one constant thing he could keep safe. the one thing he could selfishly keep. there was no chance he was going to give that up so easily, not when you were catering to his urges so wonderfully.

it was getting late, but you'd slept all day, so the exhaustion behind your eyes was keeping you awake. overtired and restless, your head was throbbing, and you couldn't get comfortable. the man heard rustling from the couch and turned in his desk chair, a serene smile on his face. he noticed you shifting awkwardly and came to the rescue.

"what is it, baby?"

you ceased trying to rearrange the contents of the couch and let yourself flop against the pillows, huffing in aggravation. "ugh, nothing. just can't get comfy."

"let me help you," fox urged. he rose from his chair and stalked over, kneeling dutifully at the couch's edge to help you adjust the pillows behind your head and beneath your legs. "better?"

"mhm. thank you."

"of course. how’re you feeling?"

"not good," you pouted, voice thick with strain, "my head is killing me, and my stomach is aching. and my nose and throat, too… i took some medicine not too long ago, but it’s taking forever to kick in… ugh. you know i hate being sick."

that childish pout had his stomach churning. he knew this wasn't about him, and you needed rest, but he also couldn't ignore how enticing you looked, all innocent and sleepy on his couch. how you trailed off between thoughts, working through the sick haze in your head. he leaned over a bit to rest his hands on your lower abdomen, pressing the heels of his palms against your belly softly. you hummed at the touch, and he had to force his eyes not to roll back.

"what can i do to make you feel better?"

"can..." you trailed off. "maybe you could cuddle me?"

"i'd love to."

the man climbed onto the couch without a thought, allowing his body to mold to how yours curved. you felt his strong chest rising and falling against your back, the constancy soothing as he draped his arm over your side, letting his rough hands drift slowly back down to your tummy. fox pressed a few lazy kisses behind your ears, causing the hair on your arms to stand up stiff. his lips were always warm, but with your skin burning up as it was, they felt frigid.

"too cold?"

"mm-mm," you hummed. maybe they were, but you weren’t going to jeopardize him stopping. 

fox was starting to disregard his better judgment as he tucked himself into you, feeling the feverish heat of your back. he was more attuned to the motions you made than his thoughts. the way your hands, so soft, just a touch smaller than his own, laid safely atop his wrists; how when he rubbed slow circles against your aching stomach, you made a little noise that was something heavenly, both hum and sigh; how your left foot ran up and down your right leg, feeling the fuzzy fabric of the blanket wedged between. he was so lost in how good it felt to be wanted that it was crossing over into obsession. he wanted every square inch of you to need his attention. he wanted to touch every spot that felt sick and nurse you back to life- to have it engrained in your head that only he could make it feel better, and no one else. 

so engrossed in his urges, fox kissed a little more, and what started as innocent turned urgent. he sucked softly behind your ear, nipping relentlessly on that sensitive spot you had. you began to pant, feeling the fever chills leave and a different kind of warmth roll over you. you pushed your hips into his hands, trying not to squirm and failing miserably. 

"oh, god," you covered your face with your hands. “fox…”

fox’s low laugh rumbled against your shoulder blades. the man relished in your inability to resist. his fingers began to travel down to your boxers, and he tucked his hand right below the waistband. he put pressure right against your heat and you buried your face as best as possible into the couch cushion, letting out a helpless whine.

"feels good, right, baby?"

"a-ah," you hiccuped.

"m'just gonna touch it, that's all,”

"but-"

"i can make you feel so much better," he kissed your ear, "make all those aches go away so fast, baby. can i?”

"please," you whispered.

he reached down and dragged his fingers along the fabric separating him from what he wanted, feeling the wetness beneath. his touch was feather-light, and as he gently wriggled his fingers beneath the cotton, you squeezed your eyes shut and scratched softly at the knuckles of his hand still on your waist. you were struggling to do anything other than lie there, but he didn’t need a thing from you anyway. eagerly, you felt his steady fingers brush against your entrance, and his lips parted hungrily at how slick you were.

"god, you're so easy, aren’t you?"

fox dipped two fingers inside you, testing the waters. when your hips rocked back into his, he couldn’t bite back the greedy smile that overtook his face. impatient, he pushed them deeper, feeling the familiar pressure of you squeezing around his hand. you licked your chapped lips, feeling a knot tying itself in your tummy where he worked his fingers inside you. he’d been away a lot recently, so much so that this was a reminder of just how long his fingers truly were. 

"mm, now how’s that, sweetheart?"

"it’s… good," you drawled.

"you like it when i touch you like this, don't you? y’like how my fingers feel?"

you turned your head to look down at where his wrist disappeared beneath your boxers, and you keeled back against the pillow, meeting his broad shoulder. you shuddered in pleasure, and he craned his neck over to lock you in a kiss, feeling possessive like never before. he tasted the minty vicks above your lip and moaned right into your mouth.

"my poor, sick girl… just need me, don't you, baby? oh, you just want me to make it feel better, i know."

you practically melted into the couch as he buried his fingers between your hips. skillfully, he maneuvered you onto your back and crawled up and over so you could lay flat; he anchored his arm right over your head so he could stare down and watch the bliss reach your rosy face, all the while never taking his hand away. once you started breathing heavily and clenching around his fingers, he pulled them out, dragging his slick fingertips across your stomach, leaving shiny streaks behind. when you groaned at the loss, he clicked his tongue.

"no whining, angel. i'm not done. i'm gonna take good care of you."

you watched through spinning vision as he pushed down the couch, crawling low until he could lean over your hips. then, with his big palms stationed between your thighs, he spread you wide, ogling your plush pink folds.

"you're so pretty, baby. my pretty girl."

he pressed a few kisses on the mound just above where you ached, sending shocks up to the tips of your hair. then, he dipped his tongue right inside. he was too needy to start with kitten licks, so instead he swirled around, curling his tongue like a hook, big button nose rubbing against your clit as he breathed you like air. you were officially somewhere new, somewhere out of your own mind; his tongue was so long it could've been one of his god-given fingers, so warm inside you, so deep you couldn't see straight. 

"mmm- god- i love you.”

your toes curled as he moaned all kinds of sweet nothings into you, feeling the soundwaves rolling against your walls. just when his tongue had you going, he moved up to your clit and began sucking so hard you started seeing stars. you clamped your thighs around his head and felt his strong, rough hands grip the chub on them hard, fingertips digging enough to leave moon-shaped bruises. you tugged on his hair, unable to do anything but feel him against you and try not to slip away. but there was no stopping the way you floated in limbo, surrounded by the way he made you feel.

"fuck, baby, look at you," he growled between your hips. "c’mon. let me hear that scratchy little voice of yours."

"oh my god," you moaned, "oh, y-you... i... fox,"

"fuck, that's it. is it good, love, am i good?"

"you're so good! so…s-so good…fuck!" you fought not to trail off, but thinking was hard enough as it is.

“that’s my job, sweetheart.”

he kept himself there, getting off on the way you bucked your hips against his jaw. it didn’t take much longer for the burning in your stomach to grow unbearable, and through trembling little spasms confined by his stronghold on your waist, you unraveled right on his tongue. he came up for air with milky lips after working it out of you for a minute, pressing wet kisses all up your stomach and chest. you felt so dirty as you smiled down at the sheen trail of cum prints in the shape of his pretty lips.

“good girl. did that help?"

"mhm," you heaved, head spinning. “need…”

"what? what is it?"

"i- oh..."

"use your words, princess. words."

"c-can you- you..."

he knew what you wanted. he saw it in the pathetic way you glanced from your hips to his, too worked up to get it out. he chuckled in a way that sent chills up your legs and said, "awh, baby. you want me to fuck you now?"

you bit your lip and bucked your hips in the air. he lodged his leg between your thigh with a smirk and you pressed yourself against it, grinding on the worn fabric of his sweatpants. he felt a wet patch soaking through to his skin, and he twitched in anticipation. you batted your eyelashes and let out a raspy little noise, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt while you moved. and when a sniffle interrupted your humming, it drove him right over the edge.

"fuck. you’re so cute, you little tease.”

he shimmied his sweatpants down in an instant and wasted no time, groaning gutterally as he pushed in and bottomed out. you were hot around him, pulsing like a steady heartbeat.

"fuck, baby. never gets old,” he swooned, pressing a gentle kiss to your chin.  

he began to thrust in and out, hips rolling religiously into the curve of your legs. you clung to his shoulders and tugged him down so he was stuck against your neck, breath hot. he began to fuck you faster, pressing starving kisses to your collarbone, and you arched your back, gasping for a solid breath.

"oh my god!"

"god, you’re so tight," he growled, “been saving it all up for me, huh? missed me bad, i can tell,”

"mm… fox!”

"you like it when i fuck you like this? right on the couch, where anybody could see in that window? say it, baby,”

"i love it," you croaked, gathering the little tufts of overgrown hair at the nape of fox’s neck and tugging them in a last-ditch effort to ground yourself. he tipped his head back into your touch and whined, and you gave a dizzy, darling smile.

"god, i love you. i love you, i love you, i fucking love you," he praised, timing every confession with a thrust of his hips.

all you could manage was a distracted, "m-me... too... ah!"

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he uprighted himself and yanked you by the love handles, dragging you down the couch like a doll. he clawed at your hips, leaving red marks he’d have to soothe later. fox snapped harder and harder, losing control but not caring at all; you let him take you in his hands, surrendering until you couldn't take anymore, and suddenly the knot in your stomach burst. you shivered and writhed all around, whispering his name like a strangled prayer as your hands searched for something to squeeze. he leaned down so you could grab his biceps, and you scratched at them like a cat, a string of lewd things falling from your tired mouth. he came undone as you clenched around him, and his warmth in your tummy was so thick you felt like you could feel it in your throat. 

"so good, baby, jesus christ," fox wheezed. "you sound so pretty when you’re sick. can’t help myself."

you were nearly unresponsive. your head had never spun the way it did now, and your ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, along with your throat. you couldn't form any words, all you could do was claw at his arms and tremble, face stuck in a permanent state of bliss. 

"feeling any better?" fox pressed little kisses to your chin and neck and eyes, and he traced shapes on your stomach to wake you up. "come on, princess, open your eyes. come back to me.” when you smiled and sighed, letting out an embarrassed giggle, he cooed, "there she is, my pretty girl."

"mhm."

"still feel bad?"

you shook your head sweetly, eyes drooping. "nuh-uh."

his heart swelled and he just wanted to eat you alive, so he did the next best thing. he leaned down and kissed your swollen lips with a softness he abandoned just minutes ago, swiping his tongue against your lips and all over your face. he kissed you with all the maneuvers of love he could muster, and you hummed against his mouth, pulling on his hair to hear those pretty little sounds again.

"you’ve got me so whipped, sweetheart," he purred between kisses, "just wanna take care of you."

"you're so good at it," you blushed.

"i do what i can." 

he kissed and kissed and kissed you into the couch, and all that kissing got heated, and one thing led to another because the two of you simply couldn’t help yourselves. and the next day, he woke up as sick as you. who saw that coming?

[quietblueriver]

For prompts: Imogen/Laudna, hound of ill omen or pâté pet fluff

So this turned into nearly 4k words on Imogen and the animals she has loved? The last section at least is directly responsive. 😬 And I might supplement with hound of ill omen at some point because he's lurking around in my head, too.

Thank you so much for the fun prompt! <3

PS - Wrote this real fast so pls excuse any errors.

-

One afternoon when Imogen was six, her daddy called her into the barn and nodded over at the old wooden trough turned on its side near the stairs to the loft. She knew what it meant, gasping and scurrying in the direction of the trough, slowing to the quickest walk she could manage at her daddy’s, “No running in the barn, Imogen.” 

And then she saw them—five tiny new things, eyes closed and mouths searching, mewling and pitiful on a pile of hay inside the shelter of the worn, dusty planks. 

Lady, their mother and Imogen’s favorite barn cat, eyed Imogen as she approached, orange and white tail flicking back and forth, one black ear twitching. Imogen couldn’t read minds (not yet, anyway) but she thought she understood–she gave Lady and her kittens plenty of space, stopping before she got too close. She sat criss-cross applesauce, watching from a distance and thinking about names until her daddy put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her toward the house for dinner. 

For the next few weeks, she went out every morning before school and every night before bed to check on them–three orange and one calico and a pretty orange and black mix. 

“Tortoiseshell,” her daddy said as he watched Imogen watch them, the black and orange–tortoiseshell–jumping and pawing fiercely at a piece of hay that stuck up from the ground. He only stayed for a moment, wiping sweat from his forehead with the navy blue bandana he always kept in his back pocket before he said, “We’re only keeping one.” When she turned to look at him, he was already focused on pulling the rake from its hook and moving toward one of the stalls. She wanted to argue but she bit her tongue. She was getting good at that. He didn’t look at her as he added, “Don’t get too attached.” 

She did get too attached. She cried when Pumpkin and Daisy went to live with Mr. Faramore’s cousin. She tried to hide it, sniffling into the sleeve of her shirt, but her daddy saw and frowned and shook his head. “That’s how it works, Imogen. I told you.” Shame curled in her stomach, and when she wiped her face again, motion hard with anger, the button on her cuff caught her cheek and split the skin. 

A few weeks later, when Scare and Crow went to live on the farm a few miles away, Imogen hid behind the barn with Ember in her arms and watched as Crow’s little orange face peeked out from the backpack where he and his brother had been put. When the horse turned the corner and she couldn’t see him anymore, Imogen put Ember back inside the barn with Lady and cried and cried until she couldn’t anymore. Throat sore and nose running, she scrubbed at her face in the stream and wiped it dry before she went inside for dinner. 

(“Of course you were attached,” Laudna whispered to her under the moonlight in a grove far, far from Gelvaan. “They were kittens. You were six.” She heard, in Laudna’s thoughts, the undercurrent of opinions on her daddy. What an absolute jackass. Honestly. When she snorted, Laudna tilted her head in that way Imogen was coming to love, one side of her mouth pulling into a smile. Sorry, darling. I don’t mean to think ill of him. 

Imogen, heart doing strange things at the word darling, only came back to herself when she noticed Laudna’s smile begin to dip. She reached out and ran tentative fingers over the back of Laudna’s hand where it lay between them. Laudna turned her palm up and caught Imogen’s fingers between her own, the brief staccato interlude in her thoughts smoothing back into a more familiar rhythm as Imogen tried for the gentlest look she could manage. It wasn’t real familiar to her, gentleness, but Laudna made it feel easier than it ever had. 

Don’t be sorry. Please. I’ve never had…Thank you, for defendin’ me. And you’re right. He was a little bit of a jackass. 

She giggled then, feeling younger and safer than she had in a long time, and Laudna’s smile came out in full, face breaking open eerie and beautiful in the night.) 

Lady disappeared almost ten years later, gone one day, then two, then a week. 

“Likely went off to die,” speculated one of the older hands, bottom lip bulging with dip that he spit into the jar in his left hand every other sentence. “Dignified, that one.”

“Or somethin’ got her. Not as fast as she used to be.” 

Imogen mucked a stall quietly as they went on, moving from Lady to the weather to crop predictions. She was sweating, so the tears blended into the water already dripping down her face, and nobody was paying her any mind anyway. 

Nobody except her daddy, apparently. He walked by a few minutes later, shadow draping over her from where he stood in the stall door. 

“That’s just how it is, Imogen.” 

I didn’t say anything, she hissed into his mind, teenage angst and righteous anger forcing more tears from her eyes. The sound of his boots tripping over each other as he backed away pulled a bitter smile from her. She never spoke into his mind. He hated it. Careful, she said, almost taunting, and she felt the anger swell in him even as he moved further away. 

She ate dinner alone that night.  

-

By the time Flora came around, Imogen was miserable. She was fighting headaches every day, and she’d alienated nearly everyone in town over the course of the last few years. 

When her powers first came, Imogen didn’t understand what was happening. Confused and generally in pain, she couldn’t always process the difference between what she heard and what she heard, which meant she sometimes responded to things that hadn’t actually been said out loud. People weren’t fond of having somebody in their mind, even if nobody was quite ready to admit that was what was happening. 

Then came the panic attacks. 

And the scars. 

And the “accidents” that happened around her. 

She’d never been popular, looked too much like her mama in a town full of people who loved her daddy, but the rumors gave them a better excuse to avoid her, and of course, to judge. 

And, to be fair, Imogen wasn’t real eager to spend her time with them either. She hated the headaches and the anxiety and she definitely hated being able to hear the thoughts vile enough to stand out in the general din, vile enough that the men who thought them suddenly found themselves tripping over nothing or falling into ponds or spilling their drinks all over themselves. She didn’t do it on purpose but she wasn’t sorry. A few of those incidents and suddenly everybody was turning to look for lavender anytime anybody had an accident. 

When Ms. Gillis dropped a basket of produce one morning at market and turned to glare at Imogen, setting all six of her kids to whispering about “the purple witch,” Imogen decided to give up the small hope she’d been clinging to that the town where she grew up might learn to accept her as she was now. 

She stopped going out when she could avoid it, and when she couldn’t, she picked times when she thought the market or the general store or wherever it was she needed to go would be least crowded, got in and out as quick as she could. At least on the farm she was mostly alone, even if it hurt that her daddy joined everybody else for lunch and left Imogen alone in the orchard or under the big tree out behind the barn. 

She was under that tree when she first saw Flora, placid as Sam and a hand she didn’t recognize walked her. She was beautiful, a sorrel with a wide white stripe down her face. Imogen absently took a last bite of apple before tossing it back into the brown bag she’d brought and standing to walk toward Sam. 

“Imogen. There you are.” He looked relieved to see her, a vaguely anxious set of feelings pressing into her mind, which meant he really did not want to be handling this horse or he really did not like the other hand. Or maybe both. “This is Dylan. They work for Mr. Langham and rode over with Flora here.” 

Imogen lifted a perfunctory hand at Dylan before moving closer to Flora. “Can I?” 

Sam nodded, stepping back with the rope, and Dylan joined him. 

“She’s real sweet,” Dylan said. “She’ll be perfect for kids.” 

Imogen stood a little closer, in Flora’s line of vision, and let her look for a minute before she pulled a piece of carrot from her pocket and laid it flat on her palm in offer. There was the familiar tickle of soft, curious muzzle against her palm as Flora sniffed. She took the treat happily, crunching and then nosing at Imogen like they were old friends. 

Imogen ran her hand down Flora’s neck and spoke softly to her until Sam cleared his throat. 

“Well. We’re gonna leave her to you.”

“We are?” 

She caught some thoughts from Sam that made her turn her face a little further away from the two of them to hide a smile. He definitely didn’t want to get away from Dylan, then. 

“Great. Thanks.” 

They were gone quickly, leaving Imogen and Flora to themselves. “Whadda ya say?” Imogen asked as Flora mouthed another piece of carrot from her palm eagerly. “Want me to show you around a bit?” She took the gentle pressure of Flora’s muzzle against her shoulder as a yes. 

Flora was sturdy and young, barely more than a filly, and Mr. Faramore wanted her for her temperament and as a tester for the riding camp he was considering, a week or two of fancy kids coming to learn about horses and then, ideally, convincing their parents to buy one from him. 

Imogen worked with her, taking over as her handler with no objection from anyone else, and they spent at least two afternoons a week together exploring the grounds. Imogen was “setting the trails” for the camp, which didn’t mean much beyond flagging trees and brush that needed to be cleared for easier passage. It was her favorite part of the week, and Flora was better company than any person she’d ever met. 

The camp never happened, but two of Mr. Faramore’s granddaughters fell in love with Flora, so she stayed, spending a few days a month saddled up for the girls. She was Imogen’s, the rest of the time–always her choice for checking the property and riding out to mend fences or for any task she could justify, really. 

She and Flora were checking some fencing, hot as hell in the afternoon sun, when Imogen heard her for the first time. Toward the forest, where an abandoned cabin sat just far enough over the property line that Mr. Faramore didn’t bother with it, Imogen caught somebody’s thoughts. 

She wasn’t digging, had at least learned how to control that part of her powers, but the surface level thoughts were more difficult to block out, especially when she had her shields down, like she usually did when she was out with Flora. She was glad, for once, that she’d been unprepared, because these thoughts weren’t like anything else she’d heard before. They were like music, flowing and self-contained and happy. 

She turned Flora toward the forest without much thought. 

The woman was weeding outside the cabin, tall and incredibly thin, long hair pinned up with some kind of chisel as she worked, talking to herself quietly. There was something not quite right about her, something unnatural that Imogen couldn’t quite pin down but felt immediately. 

It became obvious when she turned to look at them, big black eyes wide and mouth working itself into a smile that was genuine if nervous, and almost too wide to be human. Her skin was pale, too pale, and there was something black on her fingers where they gripped a bundle of weeds, roots dangling, tightly in front of her almost like a bouquet. What looked like some kind of dead creature hung from one of her belts and swayed gently with her movement. 

Imogen was grateful for Flora for a thousand reasons, but in that moment, she was especially grateful for her steady temperament and natural curiosity, because Imogen was almost certain the woman would’ve spooked every other horse in their barn. Imogen was also almost certain that the woman in front of her was dead. 

“Hello,” she said, clearly not totally dead and with a heavy accent Imogen didn’t recognize. “I’m Laudna.” 

An hour later, when Laudna hesitantly offered Flora a piece of carrot from her palm, she took it happily and Laudna laughed, a sound as musical as her thoughts, when Flora leaned into her hand looking for more. 

It wasn’t long after that Imogen let loose defending Laudna and burned away the robes of that cleric and any chance of a life for herself in Gelvaan. 

She wasn’t sorry and she wasn’t sad, not really, to leave that place. As Imogen hastily filled a pack, Laudna looking on in concern, there was a dull and familiar ache in her chest, thudding below the fire and anger she still carried on Laudna’s behalf. Every what if she’d let herself indulge in over the years, every time she’d tried to please her daddy and failed, every attempt at getting people to see her as anything other than her mother’s daughter. But that’s all they were–what ifs that Imogen was steady realizing she didn’t want anymore. 

The real hurt, as they hurried through the forest and then onto the road that led away from Faramore’s, was that light in the barn, where Marty was on shift closing things down and keeping watch. She was leaving Flora, unable to say goodbye, and she didn’t know when she’d be back. If she’d ever be back. 

She cried the next night as they settled onto bedrolls, exhausted and overwhelmed and thinking of a horse of all things. She heard her father’s sigh, saw his disappointed and slightly patronizing expression and hid her tears in her sleeve and then in the fabric of her bedroll, trying to keep quiet. 

After a few minutes, Laudna said, gently, “I know it must be very difficult. To leave. I’m sorry, Imogen. I’m so very grateful that you saved me but I can’t imagine what it cost you.” 

Imogen turned to face her, embarrassed but willing, for reasons she still didn’t quite understand, to Laudna see her. “I’d do it again, Laudna.” The anger roiled in her stomach again, overtaking her sadness for a moment. “They deserved worse than what I gave ‘em, for what they were tryin’ to do to you.” She heard doubt in Laudna’s mind, and Imogen didn’t know yet how to fix that but she had time now to figure it out. 

“Honestly, I feel more relief than anythin’ else.” Laudna watched her, pools of black reflecting the soft light of the moon. “I won’t miss it. I’m…I’m excited to explore. I’m excited to explore with you. I’m real glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I met you, too. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a very, very long time.” Ever rang in her mind, loud and earnest enough for Imogen to hear. The fierce, protective thing that had started building in Imogen’s chest that first afternoon was growing faster than she knew what to do with. 

“I feel the same way.” 

And then Imogen thought of Flora again and found the tears were back. A noise, something affectionate and concerned that was entirely foreign to Imogen, escaped Laudna’s mouth before she sat up and dug in her pack, turning back with a handkerchief which she handed to Imogen. It was soft, embroidered with something she couldn’t quite make out in the dark, and it felt about a million times better than her shirt or her bedroll against her cheeks. 

“Thanks.” 

“Of course. I…I understand if you don’t want to talk about it, but I think I’m quite a good listener, if you do.” 

Imogen folded the handkerchief to keep her hands busy as she said, so soft she was afraid Laudna wouldn’t even hear her, “I miss my horse. Flora. I know that’s…I know it’s silly. I just…” 

She shrugged, chest tight, and Laudna moved closer to her, placed a hand on Imogen’s shoulder, cool even through the fabric of her shirt. 

“It’s not silly. It’s not silly at all.” 

It set something loose in her, the honest way Laudna said it, the echo of that honesty in her mind, and suddenly big, ridiculous tears were dripping down her face and Laudna’s arms were wrapped around her, her neck cool against Imogen’s forehead. 

“I liked her better than most people.” 

“Well, that makes sense. Aside from you, the people in Gelvaan didn’t make the best impression, I must say.” Imogen laughed into Laudna’s shoulder as she continued, “No offense intended, of course. I know I’m not exactly a welcome sight.” “You are to me.” 

She was quiet then, surprise and affection and longstanding shame whirling around in her mind. After a moment, she asked, “Would you like to tell me about Flora?” 

“I think…I think I would.” 

-

Pate de Rolo was, objectively, horrifying. 

Laudna had done a very thorough job preserving his body, and the skull was immaculately clean, but there was no getting around the horror of the creation–the mismatched parts and the patchiness of his thin coat; the dry, flaky reality of his tail; the unnatural stiffness of his joints as Laudna puppeted him, talented hands bringing his movements eerily close to what they might have been in life. 

The first time Laudna brought him from her belt with an excited, “Oh, let me introduce you to Pate,” Imogen had worked as hard as she could to keep her smile, to fight the instinct toward disgust. She managed, because she knew a hurt thing when she saw one, and she didn’t want to hurt Laudna any further, but it was a near thing. 

“Oh, so lovely to meet you, Pate.” 

“Pleasure’s all mine.” It was lecherous. It was hilarious. It was one of the most disturbing things Imogen had ever seen. 

Laudna looked between them, seeming incredibly pleased, and Imogen, unbelievably, found herself wanting to keep the little monster going, if it meant making Laudna happy. She bolstered herself. 

“Pate, Laudna mentioned y’all have traveled all over. She was tellin’ me about the mountains. Do you have a favorite place?” 

“Well, I always do like the beaches. For the views, if ya know what I mean…”

Suffering through the ensuing monologue was nothing compared to the pride that bloomed in Imogen’s chest at Laudna’s beaming smile. 

Over the course of their first few months together, Imogen began to understand what it meant when Pate made an appearance. 

Sometimes, of course, Laudna was bored and they were around the fire and Pate provided a ridiculous and entertaining way to spend an hour before bed. Imogen found it easy to move past disgust as she got to know Laudna, let herself see beyond the grotesque corpse and recognize something that had helped her friend, who had quickly become her favorite person in the world, survive desperate loneliness and nearly unending cruelty. She found it easy, when she thought of him that way, to love him as an extension of Laudna. 

And it became clear that he was an extension of Laudna, in more ways than one, as they traveled. The first time they were chased out of a cabin, she saw Laudna’s body shift into something Imogen found both terrifying and beautiful to defend them, limbs expanding and spine cracking as ichor pooled on her skin, a veil of black descending from nowhere to cover her face. That night, as they sat around the fire, Pate came out almost immediately. 

“Well that was a right mess, wunnit?” 

“It was.” Imogen moved closer on the log they shared, making the offer of contact but leaving Laudna the option to refuse. “We would’ve been in real trouble without Laudna, yeah?” 

Pate danced as Laudna’s fingers moved, somehow managing to convey a shrug in the rat-raven creation. “I dunno. I reckon anything would be scared of her, like that. Boss is awful enough when she’s not a monster.” 

“I’m not scared of her.” Laudna lifted her eyes from Pate to meet Imogen’s as she said, “And she’s not awful. She’s my best friend.” Black ichor dripped down Laudna’s cheeks as her fragile ankle shifted just enough to touch Imogen’s. “I thought it was really fuckin’ cool.” Laudna snuffled and Imogen grinned, bending down to Pate and stage-whispering, “Did you see that one guy piss himself?” 

Pate cackled, and Laudna moved to close the rest of the distance between them. 

When Laudna died, the second time, Imogen took his small body and kept it close to her. She couldn’t puppet him, didn’t want to try, but she spoke to him, whispered to him as she set him in a small nest she made from her bandana each night. “Don’t worry, Pate. We’ll get her back. I promise.” 

And then he came back with her, ribcage cracking and squelching, off-color observations flying as free as he now could. It was suddenly more difficult to love him, Imogen forcing down disgust in a way she hadn’t in a long time. There was less incentive, now that he was an independent creature, but he was still Pate and he had still saved Laudna, even if he hadn’t been, well, him. 

He found her one night as Ashton and Laudna played a game of cards, Laudna cackling in delight as they accused each other, loudly, of cheating nearly every hand. It was so good, to hear her laughing again. 

“‘Ey, boss.” 

He landed on a branch near her head, wings folding back into his body with a series of motions and noises that made Imogen smile to suppress a gag. 

“Pate. I didn’t realize you were out.” 

“Mum sent me to check on ya.” 

Imogen looked back to Laudna, who was waving a hand dismissively at Ashton, nose turned up. Her eyes caught Imogen’s as she turned away from him with a scoff, and she winked before she threw herself back into their argument, brushing her hair out of her face with an exaggerated motion. Imogen blushed and bit her lip before she remembered she wasn’t alone, clearing her throat and shaking her head before the world’s lewdest undead flying rodent noticed her being a lovesick fool. 

“She did, did she?”

“Aye. She worries about you, ya know? It was a hard fight, today.” 

It was, objectively, but relative to the past few weeks it was nothing. She’d be fine after a good night’s rest. 

“I’m good.” At his uncharacteristic silence, she realized Laudna really must’ve been concerned, so she continued, “Real good, honestly. Just need some sleep. I hadn’t been sleepin’ well, but it’s easier, now that we’re back together. Now that we’re…”

Pate didn’t have lips but he still grinned, somehow, bone-white face more expressive than it had any right to be. 

“Now that you and mum’re smashin’, ya mean?” 

“Pate.” Her face was red hot, embarrassing on its own and somehow even more embarrassing because her girlfriend’s perverted rat-raven familiar had managed to make it happen. 

“I’m real ‘appy for ya.” At her pointed eyebrow, he raised a rat hand in the air, wobbling a little as he rebalanced. “Honest.” 

“Mmhmm.” Ashton was up from his seat, arms flailing with enough distress that FCG had begun to make his way over to the duo. Laudna looked like she was having the best day of her life. “An’ how’s she doin’? Really?” 

Pate grunted. “Been better, I reckon, but she’ll be alright, our girl. She’s tough.” 

Right. This was why she tried to be kind, to hold her distaste at bay, to maintain some kind of love for him. Laudna was their girl. And she’d been Pate’s girl for a lot longer than she’d been Imogen’s. 

Imogen stroked the slope of his skull and patted her shoulder, affection and disgust warring within her at the feel of undead claws on her skin. He settled and they watched together as Laudna and Ashton continued, Letters stationed close. 

“She’ll be alright.” Imogen said it for the both of them, an affirmation and a promise. 

Skull scraped skin as he moved to speak, and goosebumps broke out across Imogen’s shoulders, an instinct she couldn’t suppress. 

“‘Course she will. She’s got us, after all.” 

[baileypie-writes]

shouko + protective reader? shouya’s middle school bullying era, he’s doing all that shit cause he thinks he’s cool. reader jumps in and genuinely bodies him verbally, asking why he even does any of it, wanting to protect her best friend.

honestly forgot about a silent voice for a while 😭 one of my favorite anime movies though. love your writing.

A/N ~ Sure! And thank you for liking my writing🩷Hope you enjoy!

~Where did Your Mother go Wrong Raising You?~

Shouko Nishimiya + Fem!Protective!Reader

Part 2, Part 3

Fandom: A Silent Voice

Reader: Female

Relationship: Platonic

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: You’re tired of Shoya bullying your best friend, so you chew him out.

Warnings: Bullying, swearing, mention of blood(Shouko’s).

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

Eight.

Eight goddamn hearing aids.

Who did this Shoya boy think he was? Bullying a deaf girl, and destroying her hearing aids? And not only that, no one defended her besides you. While the little devil committed his sins, your classmates just laughed along with him. What kind of class is this? Was no one a decent person?

You were more than tired. You were just about ready to destroy this kid. All you needed was an opportunity. Lucky for you, one came.

~~~~

The entire class waited for the teacher to arrive. He was taking his sweet time, so most students were messing around. But not you. You could never have a moment of peace during school. Nearly every second was spent monitoring Shoya, making sure he didn’t try anything.

You glanced over at Shouko. You smiled, as she looked peaceful. She was wearing her shiny new hearing aids. But your smile faded as you caught a glimpse of the scar on her ear. She got that when Shoya ripped her last hearing aids out, causing her to bleed. Just the memory made you feel angry.

Shouko noticed you staring, and lightly smiled at you. “Something wrong?” She signed over to you.

“No. Just looking at your new hearing aid.” You signed back.

“What are you guys talking about?” Shoya interrupted. You groaned, not wanting to deal with him.

“Nothing you need to care about.” You said, a thick attitude in your voice.

“Woah, calm down. I just think it’s a little unfair that you guys are having your own secret conversation.” He said, crossing his arms.

You huffed. “Well, it wouldn’t be secret if you bothered to learn sign language. You can’t just complain about not understanding something when you’re too lazy to learn it.”

Shouko looked confused. “What are you talking about?” She signed. But you didn’t have the chance to answer.

“Who’re you calling lazy? You know what, I don’t care. Why would I listen to someone who’s so desperate for friends, that she hangs out with the freak?” He says as he walks over to Shouko. He reaches over to, once again, take her hearing aids, his friends laughing in the background.

That was it. You shot up from your seat, and grabbed Shoya’s wrist. “Shouko is not the freak! You are! You’re so close minded, that you can’t handle the simple fact that someone can’t hear. I mean, honestly, it’s not that complicated. But I guess you can’t handle complicated things. Hell, you can’t even keep the tag inside your shirt.” You pointed to the fabric sticking out of his top.

The class laughed, including Shoya’s friends. He didn’t like that. He yanked his wrist away, and made another attempt to steal Shouko’s hearing aids. But you were quick, and shoved him away. You got in front of poor, confused Shouko, guarding her.

“Why do you even do it? Do you take pleasure in seeing others suffer? What the fuck is wrong with you? Where did your mother go wrong raising you?” Shoya froze at the mention of his mom. You knew that was his weakness, so you kept going.

“I’ve met your mom. She cuts my hair, and she’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met. How in the world did her son turn out to be the spawn of Satan himself? I bet she doesn’t even know. What would you think if I went over to your house after school, and told her all you’ve done? I’m sure she’ll be very upset with you. And hey, if she doesn’t beat your ass, I’ll gladly do it.” You finally finished. And just in time too, because the teacher finally arrived.

“What’s going on?” He asked, noticing the silence in the room.

“Nothing, Mr. Takeuchi.” Shoya mumbled, making you grin.

Everyone went to their seats, and Mr. Takeuchi began class. You still kept an eye on Shoya, but he didn’t seem to be planning anything. At least for today.

Suddenly, Shouko waved your attention to her. She had a small smile on her face as she signed “Thanks.”

You smiled too, and signed back to her. “No problem. I’m always here for you.”

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

~~baileypie-writes

[oceanbilly]

Sorrow's native son

hi, i've never posted a fic and what i wrote might seem strange and unusual, so i wanted to give an explanation beforehand. i happened to read that one page from the stranger things book, max's book to be exact, it was the scene where neil abused billy with a belt and something in me broke and what i wrote was like a knee-jerk reaction to that. it's not really a romantic setting, i think it ended up being gender neutral too (but not 100% sure), i just needed to find a way to make billy less lonely. anyways, i hope there's at least one person who will enjoy it and relate to it.

My finger slid across the different boxes on the shelf. My eyes eventually landed on the one with the sale sign hanging below it. The store was quiet except for the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights. It was getting late.

I heard a bell announcing someone’s arrival. The cold air wrapped around my body like a blanket and I shivered. As I entered another aisle, my eyes fell on Billy Hargrove.

Our paths rarely crossed, yet his sight was uncomfortably familiar. Back in high school, he always made sure to be obnoxious enough to be noticed by everyone. He was loud and bold. Liked showing off his body even in the most inappropriate places and despite the dreadful weather, as if he was rebelling against Hawkins for the sake of it. He liked being intimidating and feared. He liked being admired.

All of that used to make an impression, until the thin veil of bullshit dropped and I saw the nasty truth.

Not long after graduation, when I was walking down Cherry Lane, I saw him carrying a big box out of the back door of his house. I wouldn’t pay much attention if it wasn’t for his father, who was walking closely behind him, pushing him to go faster. When Billy tripped and the box fell with a loud clash, I stopped. I wasn’t planning on helping – it was sheer curiosity more than anything else.

Before even a thought could pass my mind, his father’s booming voice rang in my ears. His mouth danced around the word ‘useless’ like he was used to it, like it was his favorite word and saying it caused him great pleasure. I wanted to scowl and move on, telling myself that it was none of my business, but a pained noise made me freeze. A heavy boot collided with Billy’s ribs once, twice, three times and I felt every kick in my own body. His father spat on him, yelled a few more offensive words and left. I saw Billy push himself up until he was on his hands and knees. His head hung low as he took a few deep breaths. I didn’t know what I should do, or if I should even do anything at all. Billy, however, decided for me, because when he raised his head, his cold eyes pierced through mine and I knew I shouldn’t get close.

In that position on the ground, he seemed like a wounded animal, glaring at me silently. I felt like an intruder. I looked away and forced my feet to start moving again. I walked, but it was harder now, slower, because of the heavy guilt that kept weighing on my shoulders.

After that day, I saw him everywhere. It was like I was being punished for what I did. Or didn’t do. His sight alone always brought back the shame and the guilt.

Right now he was browsing the medicine shelf. He picked up the aspirin and then put it back down. He pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill out of his pocket and looked at it like it was offending him. He also looked different. His hair was gathered in a bun, and instead of his usual showy outfit, he was clothed in sweatpants, a plain t-shirt and a red plaid shirt thrown on top of it. It hung loose on him, too, and it was dripping wet. I looked outside the window, where the heavy November rain was wreaking havoc. He eventually stuffed the money back into his pocket and put the bottle down. He huffed, irritated, and stormed out of the store.

I bit my lip nervously. I quickly grabbed the aspirin and made my way to the checkout. When I went outside, I saw him walking slowly down the street. He wasn’t in a hurry, like there was nowhere he was supposed to be in this nasty weather. His figure illuminated by the street lamps seemed small.

I chased him down and stopped in front of him, successfully cutting him off. I pushed the bottle of aspirin into his hand. He furrowed his brow and looked confused for a second, before his features were clouded by anger.

‘I don’t need fucking charity,’ he spat.

‘Take it or don’t, I don’t give a shit.’ Lies.

Billy has been all I could think about. Every time I saw him in public with his father, my heart sank. It was easy to miss – the light shoves, the way Billy never really looked him in the eye. Whenever I saw him, my mind immediately recalled the image of Billy on his lawn. It was burned into my brain and it paired well with the pang of guilt somewhere in my chest.

He also seemed to remember this moment well, because whenever he spotted me in town, his body tensed and he turned his head away. We never actually talked, but his posture was a warning in itself.

Billy clenched his jaw, but his hand tightened on the bottle. The dim orange light couldn’t hide his swollen eye and a bruised cheekbone. He opened the bottle and took out three pills. I dug in my shopping bag for a water bottle, which I passed it to him. This time he accepted it without any biting remarks. My gaze flickered down to his hands and one look at his clean knuckles told me everything I needed to know. He swallowed the pills.

‘C’mon, I’ll give you a lift,’ I said and pushed past him to go get into my car.

I half expected him to just leave and not look back, maybe flip me off as a goodbye, but to my surprise he slipped into the passenger seat next to me. I took in his face which scrunched up in pain for a second, but he schooled it very fast. The raindrops slid down his cheek.

Billy didn’t seem like the person who could simply accept help. It wasn’t taught to him. His pride got in the way too. His whole body was stiff, like he was ready to bolt any second. Like he was still on the verge of making his final decision. However, these last gruelling months have taught me that he also had a strong survival instinct. If he did something uncharacteristic – he did it out of pure need.

‘So what, you just pity me? Is that it?’ His voice was low and quiet. There was a layer of anger to it. This situation was taking away his control and he didn’t like that.

‘No,’ I replied, starting the engine and pulling out onto the road. ‘I pity your dad.’

‘For having a useless son?’ He asked louder now. The cool mask of anger was cracking, allowing the anxiety to seep through. From the corner of my eye I could see the end of his sleeve gripped tightly in his hand. I flinched at the word. It was now my least favorite word.

‘For being a braindead pissbucket.’ I spat. ‘I believe it’s incurable.’

I risked a quick glance at him and found him staring at me like I grew a second head. He snorted loudly and turned towards the window, a smile playing on his lips. I felt a bit lighter now that he was slightly less tense.

‘Do you want me to…’ I hesitated, knowing I was about to bring his mood down, ‘drop you off at home?’

He didn’t reply, but he shook his head, still looking out the window. I clenched my jaw, eyes fixed firmly on the road. He was out late in the pouring rain in the middle of November wearing these damn rags. He clearly walked for a while and he didn’t have his car. I wondered briefly if his father would be above kicking him out of the house for the night. I didn’t ask where to take him, because I had a feeling he didn’t have anywhere to go.

After ten minutes of silence I pulled up to my driveway.

I got out of the car and leaned down to look at Billy. ’C’mon.’ There was no point in asking. I let him make his decision based on what he really needed right now. He followed me without a word.

I opened the door and pushed him inside first. The pleasant warmth of the house made me sigh in relief. I took off my jacket and shoes, and looked at Billy, who was currently leaving a small puddle on the floor. I walked up to him and gently slid the dripping plaid shirt off of his shoulders. I was going to put it on the radiator in the kitchen, but something caught my eye. His white shirt had splashes of red all over his back. My heart stopped and the shirt slipped out of my hands. No. No, no, no.

‘Billy?’ My voice sounded weak and uncertain.

‘Yeah?’

‘You’re… You’re hurt,’ I said, eyes glued to the blood stains.

He tensed immediately. He didn’t reply and I was worried I saw too much. The most he had hoped for was probably just the painkillers and a place to crash. He didn’t actually plan on letting me in and now I accidentally stepped into his personal space. I was too close to the issue and I knew it scared him.

‘It’s fine,’ he said in a defensive tone. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

I could just let it go. In fact that’s what I should’ve done.

But then I felt it again. It creeped upon my shoulders slowly just to crush me all at once. The guilt. It didn’t let me move. It didn’t let me breathe. After that the panic started to set in. I let him suffer for so long.

I grabbed his hand, led him into the kitchen and made him sit in a chair. I pulled the first aid kit out of the cabinet and I saw it in his eyes. The flash of anger and betrayal, but I have already made my decision.

‘Take your shirt off,’ I said in a serious tone. ‘Please,’ I added quietly.

I expected him to put up a fight or at least make a suggestive joke, but he didn’t. He knew there was no use. The curtain was ripped away a long time ago and he had to accept that. But it was clear that he had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that someone knew the truth.

He gripped the hem of his t-shirt and started pulling it up, but halfway through he made a pained noise and let out a frustrated sigh. I grabbed the shirt for him and gently pulled it off.

When my eyes landed on his back, I felt dizzy. His tan skin was littered with angry red welts. The bruises were slowly blooming all over his back and the skin was broken in places. My first instinct was to ask him if he was hit by a car, but I knew better. And then I saw a few deep red squares that made me sick. The belt buckle.

“Jesus,” I breathed, before I could stop myself. I reeled back horrified. I’ve never seen anyone hurt this badly. I tried not to overreact – I had a feeling he would just run if I did. I suppressed my rising panic and closed my eyes for a second. It didn’t help much, the image already burned behind my eyelids. “I’m gonna clean it up, is that okay?” I asked, full of hesitation. I wasn’t sure how to even approach this without making him upset or ashamed. He was in a very vulnerable position, which could trigger his fight or flight response.

He didn’t reply, but he did give me a quick nod.

Feeling slightly relieved, I took out a cloth, dampened it and gently pressed it against his skin, trying to clean the dried blood away to see the wounds clearly. He flinched, but stayed quiet. I had to resist the urge to just take my hand away, so that I wouldn’t cause him any more pain, but this had to be done.

I drenched a gauze in an antiseptic and with a light hand started to disinfect the injuries. That did get a hiss and a muted fuck out of him, which I tried my hardest to ignore. Looking at his massacred back up close was making me lightheaded.

How could someone do this to another person? To their own kid?

The shame I felt was shattering. I knew. I knew this whole time and I failed him. My mind was cruel enough to make me feel like I was the one holding the belt.

I tried to be quick with the antiseptic, because his body felt like a tightly wound up string, ready to snap at any moment. I looked at the pile of bloodied gauzes and felt nauseous.

I took a few clean ones and covered the wounds, and then secured them with some medical tape. It looked a bit ridiculous and not professional at all, but the aesthetics didn’t matter right now. After I was done, Billy didn’t say anything. He wasn’t really moving either. I could only imagine what was going through his head right now.

I sat down in front of him to check how he was doing and I was met with a very hard image to take. He wasn’t crying. His head was hanging low and he was staring at the floor. His eyes were eerily hollow. Emotionless. There was no dramatic reaction, no sobbing, no fighting. Just acceptance.

I put away the first aid kit and cleaned up the used supplies.

‘Any cracked ribs?’ I asked standing awkwardly next to him. He shook his head without looking at me.

I was conflicted. I didn’t feel like I had the right to act like his friend now, but leaving him alone was not even an option. I looked at him sitting there. His body wasn’t as muscular as it used to be, he looked thinner. When he was hunched over like that, his skin stretched over his ribs grotesquely. He seemed to be a shell of the Hawkins High king he once was. All of his friends who used to worship him left the town. He was alone.

I put the kettle on and prepared some hot tea to warm him up. He didn’t even move, didn’t speak. He was lost in thought. I put two mugs on the table and sat down in front of him.

I wasn’t certain if I should say anything, but when I looked at him my heart broke. I saw my hand reach out involuntarily and cover his. It was cold. His head snapped up and he looked at me surprised.

‘I… I’m sorry, Billy. I’m sorry for what I did.’

He seemed confused. ‘What did you do?’

‘I pretended like I didn’t see it. I acted like I didn’t know.’

He looked down again and shook his head. ‘It’s not your job to help. I manage on my own.’

I squeezed his hand lightly.

‘I know we’re not friends, but… I don’t want you to be on your own anymore. If you let me, I’ll be there for you. With you.’

The look he gave me was indescribable. His brows were drawn gently like he didn’t quite understand what I was saying.  The feeling of support was so alien to Billy he wasn’t sure how to react. I wanted him to know that if he shared this burden, it would get a bit lighter. He didn’t have carry it alone anymore.

He didn’t sob or open up immediately. He did not pour his feelings out to me. He sat there quietly for a long time, but I could see that there was no anger or fear darkening his beautiful face anymore. He was weighing his options, thinking carefully about the secret he has kept for so long. He was now forced to confront it, to look this monster in the eye and call it by its name. He had to acknowledge his pain, really feel it instead of burying it deep under his skin.

The yellow overhead light in my kitchen betrayed Billy and I caught the glimpse of how glassy his eyes were. He didn’t let the tears fall. He didn’t even let his voice break.

All he said was: ‘Okay.’

And I knew he was ready to let me in.

[onestopfanficshop]

4th of july

eddie munson x f!reader (adopted henderson sister)

word count: 1.2k

author’s note/warnings: making out, explicit language, explicit jokes! minors leave the area rn! should i make a pt 2? who knows…

summary: eddie slept over (again, for the third time that week), and you make plans to go to the county fair.

A beam of light streaming through the window was what forced your bleary eyes open. You flip yourself over only to see Eddie sleeping soundly next to you, his arm clutching one of your favorite stuffed animals with a content expression, and the sight brings a sleepy smile to your face. You carefully make your way out of bed, trying not to make any noise (despite the fact that Eddie was the heaviest sleeper you had ever met), and quietly push the door to your adjoined bathroom open.

When you come out some time later after brushing your teeth and showering, Eddie's still asleep. You cross your arms and shake your head, contemplating if you should wake him up, but you decide against it. He looked so peaceful sleeping there. And it was a Saturday, after all.

As you head downstairs to the fridge, you tug it open to spot a note taped to the orange juice. You pick it up and it reads, Gone to get some groceries (and kitty litter)! XOXO Mom

Dustin probably went with her, you think to yourself as you grab a skillet to make some pancakes. You're about to pour some of the leftover batter you made from yesterday when you feel familiar hands and arms snaking around your waist from behind.

"Morning," Eddie says softly into your right ear. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and his breath tickles your neck. You can tell from his raspy voice that he wasn't quite fully awake yet.

"Morning, baby," you reply, smiling. "I would have woken you up but you were too busy drooling on my beloved Mr. Hoppity," you add, turning around to face him with crossed arms and a mock frown.

"Drooling, you say? Well..." Eddie raises his eyebrows as he trails off, moving to close the distance between you two. His hands move up to hold both sides of your face. "I was probably just dreaming about you, darling," he finishes with a smirk. You grin back at him, leaning in to plant a kiss on his stupidly perfect lips. That one kiss turned into two, then three, then four, and before you knew it, he had grabbed your hips to sit you up on the kitchen island. You two are full blown making out now, your fingers flirting with the hem of the old band tee that Eddie had worn to sleep. You're about to pull his shirt off until...

"DIS-GUS-TING!"

You both pull away from each other at the speed of light, only to find Dustin at the bottom of the stairs with his face crumpled up, as though a skunk had sprayed him in the face.

"Get a room, you horny little SHITS! I eat my breakfast on that island, for Christ's sakes!" Dustin shouts. He marches past the both of you to the fridge, scoffing as you and Eddie stare at him, dumbfounded.

"DUSTIN!? What the hell are you doing here? I thought you went out with Mom on her errands!" you exclaim, your head hot with embarrassment.

"Um, obviously not, since I'm standing right here before you," Dustin argues, rolling his eyes and waving his hand up and down to gesture at himself. "And Munson, next time you sleep over here, it's gonna be in my room. MY room, understand?" He jabs his pointer finger into Eddie's chest. "Last thing I need to see is you swapping spit with my sister, for crying out loud. I don't want to have nightmares!" Dustin adds. Eddie's hands go up as if to surrender, and he chuckles at Dustin.

"Roger that, Henderson. What's the plan for today?" Eddie asks. He hops up to sit next to you on the island the second Dustin turns his back to make himself toast, plants a hand on your inner thigh and squeezes, causing you to choke back a giggle.

"First day of the County Fair, remember? Everyone's gonna be there. You two are coming, right?" Dustin asks.

"Afraid we already did that," Eddie mumbles out of Dustin's earshot but loud enough for you to hear. This time you can't contain your laughter, as you poorly attempt (and fail) to hold back a snort. Dustin whips around to look at you, toast in hand.

"Huh?" he questions, his voice laced with suspicion.

"Um, Eddie just said, 'Of course we'll be there!'" you say quickly, smiling widely at Dustin.

He narrows his eyes at you both, then shrugs and turns back to fixing his toast. "Whatever," he says, spreading a generous amount of peanut butter. "Just don't try anything funny in the Tunnel of Love. They've got cameras in there, y'know," Dustin says, brandishing the butter knife as if to warn you.

"Got it. No funny business," Eddie says, nodding emphatically.

"Aaaand," Dustin adds, dragging out the first syllable. "You two are to remain at least five feet apart at all times."

Eddie raises his eyebrows and peeks at you, instantly grinning when he sees the death stare that you're directing at your little brother.

"He's my boyfriend, dingus!" you protest. You grab one of Eddie's hands, lace it with yours, and shake your interwoven hands in front of Dustin as if to prove your point.

"Dingus? Okay, you are officially spending way too much time with Robin! Besides, I'm implementing this rule for the safety and comfort of all the other innocent fair-goers!" Dustin exclaims. "And he's been your boyfriend for all of what? Ninety-six hours? Give me a break! I knew him first anyways!"

"Okay, one," you say, hopping off the counter. "You can never spend too much time with Robin. That woman is God's gift to humanity and I love her. Two, I absolutely despise PDA and Eds knows that, so please, spare me the 'safety and comfort" bullshit! Three, the amount of time we've been dating has nothing to do with anything, which is how I know you're running out of points to make. And four--" you pause, stepping closer to Dustin and putting both of your hands on your hips. "You know what I always say. It doesn't matter if you do it first if I do it better," you finish, cocking an eyebrow. You hear slow clapping from behind you, and you and Dustin turn to see Eddie with the biggest smile on his face.

"She just kicked your ass, man, but like- with words," Eddie says in awe. He stretches his arms out and you cuddle into his side, wrapping your hands around his waist as you shoot a self-satisfied smile at Dustin. He flips you off in return.

"Whatever! Just get me to the fair without traumatizing me, please. And she did not kick my ass, Munson! Seriously, who's side are you on!?" Dustin argues, tossing you the keys to the car as he headed out the door.

"Your side, obviously! But also her side! I mean, she's my girlfriend! You can't just expect me to..." Eddie's voice replying fades out as he chases after Dustin to head out to the car. You roll your eyes at them both and smile to yourself as you close the front door.

Well, this is going to be an interesting day, you think to yourself as you lock the door. As you turn your back to head to the car, you don’t notice the light on your porch that’s been broken for months begin to flicker.

[chibivesicle]

‘Times, they be a changin’

After a drop off due to Golden Kamuy ending and my overall disappointment with the last arc. And of course, Ogata’s death, I’ve been wondering where I want to go with these things.  I put a lot of GK content out and I don’t want to just shelve it but I don’t want to split myself between fifteen thousand side blogs.  I’ve decided that I’ll keep my live action meta over on my ‘I don’t want to be exterminated, upgraded, turned into pudding’ side blog and I’ll keep all my anime and manga opinions here.  Since I have been reading manga for a long time and watching anime for even slightly longer. 

To reflect this, I’ve removed my last previous Ogata icon and I’ve jumped straight to God; Kuroneko-sama that is.  It isn’t that I’ve stopped reading manga or watching anime either and I have just one of the many opinions on the internet. 

Let’s go with an easy current on topic target for some mild-meta.  Trigun.  

Many moons ago, my best friend from undergrad introduced me to Trigun.  She had a Vash poster in her dorm room in university that she picked up at Katsucon, which was the first con I ever went to with her.  She’s quite the influence!

I watched all of the original Trigun anime on fan subbed VHS tapes that were passed around the anime black market of the 90s and early 2000s before they’d be bumped out of the way by file sharing services and online fansubs.  Honestly, I can’t even remember when I first watched it, but I do remember crying at a character’s death and just rolling with some of the more hand wavy sci-fi elements.

Not surprisingly, as someone who loved Ogata as a character, my favorite character from Trigun was none other than Nicholas D. Wolfwood - wandering man of the cloth toting around his cross which is heavy b/c it is full of ‘mercy’.

How much of a Wolfwood fan was I?  Enough of one that I paid likely waaayyy too much money in a dealer’s room at either Otakon or Katsucon for this capsule version of Wolfwood with Kuroneko-sama.

I used to have him up on my desk when I was in uni, but he always fell over and at some point, I popped him back into the bubble and shoved him under a bed at my parents’ house forgotten for over a decade or so.  He moved to the desert (still in that capsule) and I just dug him out after moving to my current location along with two Ruroni Kenshin figures that are back in a box.

What is with this path down memory lane all about?  I was at Anime Expo in 2022 (with exact same friend mentioned above) and we didn’t make it to the Trigun Stampede panel but, I did get an awesome photo of an amazing Vash cosplayer.

With the Trigun 2.0 on the horizon and the Sony merger stuff, all of the older anime titles that were on Funamation have moved back onto Crunchyroll - meaning a lot of titles I loved when I was younger could be rewatched.

And that’s what I did last month!  I dusted off my little Kuroneko-sama and Wolfwood and sat down to watch Trigun for the first time in over 20 years, I think.

I was both surprised by what I remembered and what I did not remember.  Plus, rewatching something you haven’t seen in years allows you to have a sort of fresh pair of eyes.

First off, for a manga that started in 1995 and had the anime in 1998, it has great female characters.  Meryl Stryfe and Milly Thompson wear normal clothing, have professional careers and are packing heat in a wild west environment. These are the least sexy main character ladies!  Milly wears a dress shirt, tie and pants with suspenders along with her long coat.  Meryl wears boots, tights, skirt suit and then a cloak (with all her guns) as well. 

Meryl is the older skeptic/pragmatist and Milly is naive yet if the most obvious thing is the best answer, then accept it as the truth.  They are great characters and I love how they are a great perspective and point of view into the events.  Sure, they are completely overpowered by Vash or Wolfwood, but they are neither a non-human-pseduo-angelic being or a man who had his entire body altered [manga] to be a better killer or just a much more on the job experience [anime] soooooo yeah.  I’m okay with Meryl and Milly not having to hold their fighting prowess with the boys. 

I finally decided to break down and read the manga.  Little did I know that Darkhorse owns the current rights and the series is out of print.  Gah, I was hoping to score the series cheap used but that will not be the case.  I’ve read the original Trigun from the shounen mag that went belly up (3 tankobons, 1 volume via Darkhorse) and the moved into a seinen publisher for its continuation as Trigun Maximum.  I went ahead and purchased all the way up to Trigun Maximum volume 5 and have read it all as well.

As someone who enjoyed the anime, I can appreciate the way the anime ended at the time.  They were years away from the end of the manga’s run and the anime team needed to come up with a nice way to tie things up.  Honestly, I’m fine with how things went in the anime.  Well, other than Wolfwood’s death, which made me cry and still pulled at my heartstrings on the recent watch.  So far the manga has more details, and is taking the time to fill in motivations of characters like the Gung Ho Guns (why would you willingly sell your humanity to destroy it?).  It however, still keeps an air of mystery about Vash’s past and the exact reason why humans got stuck on the planet.

The two major differences I see between the anime and manga are as follows:

Anime Vash has that sort of 90s MC perv side being a ham towards women early on when it later has him questioning who’d love him anyways.  Manga Vash doesn’t even go there which is something I like - dude’s got a lot more problems.  No space for chasing skirts and hitting on ladies.

Life on the planet Gunsmoke is fucking terrible in the manga.  You think it is pretty shitty in the anime?  Pffftt, that’s nothing compared to the manga.  People are worse, humanity is more like how Hobbes would view it and less like Locke.  I honestly, don’t know all of the differences yet, since I’ve barely cracked the manga story line but it is clear it is only going to get darker.  Yet at the same time there is more hope since the humans who’d kept themselves ‘above the fray’ were able to contact other people and they are supposed to possibly be rescued.  If Knives doesn’t throw a giant bloody wrench in there. 

In a way, these differences do reflect the shift that the anime gives us.  We go from a goofy guy who is overly competent trying to bumble/drift through life and has biblical levels of trials/tests of his faith in his own belief system to come out with a resolution and faith in the future.  You feel it when you get to around episode 13 and you realize that shit is gonna get serious and you can’t just go back to zany antics.

What I like about the anime is that we have a range of how characters act and view humanity.  Vash will punish himself to not harm others as he sees it as the unalienable right that every living thing has the right to life and it isn’t right for you to take that away from anyone.  Not sure how he resolves eating those salmon sandwiches with great vigor unless it is artificial salmon (desert planet out?).  Milly is the extremely naive and optimistic, Meryl is sarcastically pragmatic.  Of course Knives is the exact opposite of Vash, thinking humans are a scourge and no one is worth their own lives. 

And in the middling grey area we have - Nicholas D. Wolfwood.  Yep, is it shocking my favorite character straddles the moral grey line?  Seeing that it is a rhetorical question, we all know that yes, I love my characters that move between different philosophical spaces.  Is Wolfwood a good or bad character?  It depends; the narrative and other relationships tell us in the anime that we should see him as more good than bad character.  He is a friend to all children and uses it as a rationale why he has to do his job.  Without him making money from being a traveling clergyman/gun for hire the children would not have financial support.  However, we can see that the closer he gets to Vash the more conflicted he is and keeps verbalizing why he has no option but to kill; or else someone else would be killed. 

What I like about him is that his observation skills are top notch.  When he first meets Vash, he get straight to the point that Vash is wearing a mask in front of others.  He’s trying to get by, not die, but has a lot of anger at the shitty hand he was dealt in life.  It is the classic example of I had a crap childhood and ended up stuck in this less than ideal path but I want to protect others from it.

He’s one of those characters who really compliments Vash both visually and personality wise.  Vash could never haggle down the price of anything but Wolfwood squeaks by talking his way out of pay full fare for the bus or trying to run a tab (as a drifter).  Yet at the same time those two idiots are as thick as thieves getting in petty arguments over stupid shit and feeling resolved to deal with each other.  I also like how he’s one of the few characters who pushes back at Vash’s need to take on extreme burdens and that sometimes you have to accept all your options are going to suck.

We are going to get in a stupid fight about how Wolfwood’s motorcycle broke down again.  Which he named Angelica II.  RIP Angelica I.

We just tossed our water bottle over!

And just this.  Like sticking out your tongues at the same time will allow you to capture that last bit of water . . .

Does it end here?  God no, it continues to the extent that man who saved them is ready to toss them off his truck.

The manga has a very similar visual dynamic between them.  They are two guys with rough pasts and are navigating the present in very different ways.

Anyways, I’m still not sure where I exactly want to go with things, but a deep dive into Wolfwood (anime & manga) may be a worthwhile endeavor.  I’ve got a ways to go in the manga and I’m not rushing through it or anything like that.

What I am worried about is the remake/reboot/re imagining of Trigun as Trigun Stampede.

I first watched the preview videos about it.  I’m not here to argue if CGI is good or bad.  What I do have an issue with is the general character designs - I get it, Trigun is a 90s manga/anime and it looks like a 90s series.  I really like the Legend of the Galactic Heroes: Die Neue These, for me it has less to do with the character designs and for how the storytelling perspective is more people driven and less sterile/historical documentary style.  I’ve read most of the novels and LOGH:DNT leans much more on the novels/format than the original epic long OVA.  The creative team behind LOGH:DNT are really giving it their all.

But for Trigun Stampede the new character designs are seriously rubbing me the wrong way. 

Vash: I get that Vash would be considered ‘best sad boi’ if the series were new, but the lack of spiked up hair is baffling to me.  His prosthetic arm is obviously not of this world in origin/tech and it really kills the slow reveal of what it can do.  Wearing a jacket with the Project Seeds logo on it - sure - most people on the planet aren’t the most educated about all that info.  We also have the changing of his type of firearm, which any detail nerd is going to be up in arms about the switch from a long colt .45 to a .22 caliber revolver style handgun.  I blame Ogata and his love of the Type 38 over the Type 30 rifle for sniping.

Meryl Stryfe: not only gets a tomboy look but a career change and a shit mentor/supervisor.  Let’s give her a newsboy hat, shorts with her old suit coat and a large parka and random gloves with chunky sneakers.  Oh and she’s the underling of a chain smoking whiskey drinking misogynistic asshole whose job is to treat her like shit and insult her.  She neither looks nor acts like a young twenty something professional.  In the anime and manga she’s just a petite woman.  But episode one of stampede has me concerned.

Milly Thompson: does not exist?  Information about this is vague at best and I’m not going to troll the internet for what the creative team may have told the Japanese press.  Milly’s character design was top tier.  Her character added great value to the anime and manga so far.  She’s not on the promo artwork and Roberto De Niro is - which is a bad sign.

Nicholas D. Wolfwood:  Looks like a hipster from Tokyo.  And any other ikemen type of character.  Or from a Jdrama.  Really, he looks like if you took a fashionable guy off the street and threw him into the mix.

We see here, an unbuttoned jacket.  His dress shirt is unbuttoned at the top, but also not tucked in.  He’s got skinny/tapered pants and exposed ankles.  And those black shoes that might be sneakers or loafers? 

Now, you live on a desert planet my man.  You know what absolutely sucks when you live in the desert? Getting sand and shit in your shoes!  How do you do that?  Don’t wear shoes that aren’t covered by your pants.  I can forgive the lack of hats on the entire main cast b/c they are the main characters and we want to see their faces.  But if they actually lived on a twin star planet, Vash, Wolfwood, Meryl and Milly would all be wearing hats; you want to keep that sun off your face and block a lot of the crap floating by.  Honestly, that’s one design element which is spot for the characters except for the lack of hats - the long sleeves and layers.  You wear layers and long sleeves and pants when you live in the desert to protect yourself from the elements.

Sadly, not only does his wardrobe suffer from the ‘upgrade’ but his hair as well as a lollipop instead of his hallmark crumpled cigarette.  Smoking kills but Wolfwood is going to die young anyways so do you think he cares that much?

His hair is tamed down the long locks in front of his ears are gone and I’m guessing his nose will be shrunk as well.  My most recent watch had me appreciate a few elements of his character design.  First off, he’s got a rather ‘normal’ looking nose that doesn’t make that weird point.  I like this it gave him a more unique appearance without doing too much.  We can also see the long shaggy bit of hair as well as the much messier overall look.

Looking at him more closely, it really seems as though he had a sort of almost retro (for the 90s) 70s look with a scruffy chin.  That sort of makes sense since he was designed in the 90s, his style might refer back to the previous 20 or so years for his overall look.

I am a huge fan of the added rough around the edges look with the lines on his cheeks which are more pronounced in the manga.

I also visually read this to be an indication of age.  Which in the anime, I read him to be the oldest human of the bunch, over thirty.  His observational skills, the way he talks to others, how he rationalizes things at least in the anime. Wolfwood has seen more of life and some of his solid statements really make me think this.  I haven’t gotten to his whole backstory in the manga yet which from what I’ve seen - is vastly different than that with him being much younger but appearing older.  Which is why he gets the scruffy/blushy lines all the time?  Maybe?  I’ll get back to this.  However, this point doesn’t sit well with me since some types of wisdom require one to reach a certain age to get them so I’m not keen on the concept for appears old but is much younger Wolfwood.  But I’ll see how it plays out in the manga before judging it. 

I’m not the type of person to get my knickers in a twist over logical updates to characters and their design but the creative team for Stampede went hard.

Honestly, I already found a much more professional review that really highlights a lot of the issues I had with episode 1.  The reviewer never saw the original and still highlights a lot of the things someone who’d watched it before would or could be bothered by.

https://www.themarysue.com/even-as-a-trigun-newbie-trigun-stampedes-first-episode-didnt-feel-right/

This article completely captures why I hate Roberto De Niro and why if he dies as a character I will be happy.  But not happy enough without Milly!

Anyhoo, I’ll give Trigun Stampede the college try, but they are going to have to work very hard to convince me it is a worthy remake.  If only to see Roberto De Niro to die and try not to ask Tanigaki why he’s toting around Punisher - which is a heavy cross b/c it is full of mercy. 

[jimblejamblewritings]

i should hate you | part 5.

Summary: Y/N Lestrange felt like her life was a set-up since birth. The entire school hates her thanks to her mother and father. Worst of all, she finds herself liking a Gryffindor… the one whose parents were tortured by hers.

Warnings for the Series: angst, fluff, some smut

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x black!reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

“Her mum just tried to kill you!” Ron yelled.

“Lestrange?!” The other three yelled.

You started to move yourself out from underneath Neville when he stopped you.

“Her name is (Y/N), guys.”

“Maybe I should just go,” you whispered.

You kissed Neville on the cheek and got off the bed. The other boys watched you quickly shuffle past them as you tried to leave Gryffindor without being noticed. They went back to looking at Neville.

“You’re fucking joking, mate,” Ron said as they all moved to start packing since the school year was about to end.

“Did she hex you?” Dean asked. “Are you under a love potion right now? Quick, who’d you ask to the Yule Ball last year?”

Neville rolled his eyes. “I asked Ginny. She’s not bad, guys.”

“She’s a Slytherin and a Lestrange.”

Dean got up to answer the knocking. You stood there awkwardly, now in new clothes and with a little bag.

“I, uh, my wand.” You pointed to the nightstand.

“You’re really forgetful,” Neville said with a chuckle.

He grabbed the wand and crossed the small gap between you two. You tucked your wand back into your shorts’ waistband. You liked that because fifth years were done with classes early due to O.W.L.s, you were allowed to be out of uniform for the last days of school. Neville rested his hands on your waist. Tentatively, you reached up to rest your hands on his shoulders and then moved to wrap them around the back of his neck. He wasn’t pulling away even with his friends in the room and that made the corners of your mouth lift up.

“Why are you crying again?” Neville asked gently as he dabbed at your eyes.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I just… I never had a friend that wasn’t Draco before.”

“Is that all I am? A friend?” He joked as he pulled you in for a hug.

The other boys watched your hands drop a little lower to clutch at the fabric of Neville’s shirt. Everything you did still had an air of desperation like you were worried that it would all come crashing down with just the wrong breath. You turned your head to rest your chin on Neville’s chest. He looked down at you with a smile.

“I’m going to go find the unicorns. Do you want to come?”

“Yeah, let me just change.”

You slapped your hands over your eyes, making Neville laugh. Harry cleared his throat.

“Les— (Y/N), your patronus… it was a unicorn, right?”

You nodded. “Do… Do you guys want to find the unicorns too?”

They hesitantly agreed. Neville grabbed your hand and you all headed out of Gryffindor and towards the Forbidden Forest. Dean, Seamus, Harry, and Ron trailed behind the entire time. They were just staring at where you and Neville’s hands were connected. This had to be some weird collective dream they were having. You suddenly stopped, letting go of Neville’s hand. They knew to stay behind as a unicorn passed in front of them, grazing the forest floor.

You opened your little container and began the grape rolling process. The unicorn marched up to you to search for another grape, not caring about the sugar cane. The boys stared as you sat down against a tree and the unicorn actually laid down. You waved them over, motioning for them to sit. The unicorn was startled a little but you kept petting it and saying everything was alright until all the boys sat down. It calmed down as they slowly began to pet it. You smiled at the creature and then at them.

“Don’t tell Hagrid but I’ve been finding unicorns since I was twelve. That’s why it was so easy, it wasn’t my first time.”

“Are they your favorite animal?” Seamus asked.

You nodded, having answered that question earlier when Neville asked.

“Most girls seem to like them,” Ron said. “Ginny says they’re her favorite too.”

Neville moved to sit next to you now that the creature was calm enough to not be bothered by the boys’ presence. You rested your head on his shoulder and kept petting the unicorn. The other four were coming to the same conclusion Neville did as they watched the two of you.

Harry thought back to when they first caught you in the seventh floor classroom. You were pretending to duel but the important part they all chose to ignore was that you were dueling your parents. He thought about you offering whatever you had been offering to help him with the scar from Umbridge’s detention. Seamus remembered you trying to ask Neville to the Halloween dance. He accused you of trying to hex his friend just like your parents. But you never actually did anything. Ron was thinking about you apologizing for a song you didn’t even make. And how he, Fred, and George just told you to leave their sight. Dean was thinking of the morning with the career advice pamphlets. You liked muggles and that completely shatters any beliefs he had about you.

“Hey, uh… we’re sorry,” Seamus said.

The others apologized as well.

“Thank you,” you whispered before burying your head against Neville’s shoulder.

You were trying not to cry, it was easy to tell. Every breath was slow and deliberate. You couldn’t help it. Apologies were something you never thought you would get and it was more cathartic and needed than you realized. It just made the boys feel like crap. They were forced to confront five years of shitty behavior. It stung to realize they had been what they accused you of. It was going to be rough and awkward but they felt like they owed it to you to try and be your friend and make up for their wrongdoings.

The unicorn was no longer amused with the company of six students and got up. You all watched it gallop away before getting up yourself. There was no need to be in the woods anymore. You were hand in hand with Neville again. He didn’t let go even as you entered the castle and gripped it even tighter as you entered the Great Hall for lunch. Dean made room for you to sit in between Neville and him. Both the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables went silent. You and Neville were breaking a cardinal rule. Slytherins and Gryffindors were not supposed to sit at each other’s tables. Draco walked in confused as to why no one at his table was talking until he finally saw you— without the uniform, you almost blended in. He got closer.

“Pygmy Puff.”

“Yes?”

“I’m supposed to vet your boyfriend before you flaunt them.”

“On what authority?”

“The authority that I’m older.”

“By three weeks, Draco. So once again, what authority?”

“Older male cousin authority, don’t argue… I’ll literally hex you into the hospital wing if you hurt her, Longbottom. Bad enough she likes a bloody Gryffindor.”

Draco sat at his table. He ignored his friends’ surprise that he didn’t tell Neville off or force you back to the table. Draco was pissed inside, no doubt about it, but he wasn’t about to ruin the only person besides him who was nice to you. He hated that it was a Gryffindor but it was someone. He meant it about the hexing, though.

Gryffindor was having the same feelings as Slytherin. Aside from the residents of Neville’s room, everyone else was appalled. Slytherin and Lestrange became the two buzz words as the table talked. There were only a few days left of school and the talk about you and Neville didn’t die down even as everyone got on the train. You found a compartment with him and Seamus. Dean, Luna, and Ginny came a bit later. Luna and Ginny just stared through the open door. You stood up and grabbed your trunk, stopping when Neville grabbed your wrist.

“Come on, stay, please.”

“Your friends don… I need to talk to Draco anyway.” You used the classic and only excuse you had.

“You’re going to the same house.”

Neville moved your hand from the trunk and directed you to sit back down. Dean eventually got Luna and Ginny inside. They didn’t understand Neville or any of his roommates. All the girls said it was ridiculous that they really fell for the pretty girl batting her eyelashes and completely ignored the fact that her parents were Death Eaters. Death Eaters that were on the loose. They didn’t trust you because they knew that they could see through whatever act you had suddenly started to put on.

Neville squeezed your hand in apology at you being left out of conversations once again. Even when the trolley lady brought lunch, they still didn’t want to talk to you. You shook your head and just turned to put your legs over his lap. Neville’s fingers danced over your skin again. You sighed in content.

“Can I write to you over the summer?” you asked.

“Of course you can. I’m writing to you every day.”

You snorted, knowing that wasn’t true. “I wish you could come over… Aunt Cissa might not mind. Hmm, maybe it’s still not a good idea.”

“Maybe not but you could always come over to our place, Gran already knows about you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

Neville leaned over to kiss you.

“No snogging!” Seamus yelled, making you both laugh. “You gotta take the lady out on a date first, Longbottom.”

“Too late,” you said. Neville tickled your side in retaliation.

Dean huffed out a laugh. “What, Neville, you dog.”

“Well, it worked for him, didn’t it,” Seamus said while elbowing Dean. “Snog a girl once and she’ll go on a date with you.”

“Oh, it was more than once.”

You leaned back after saying that, watching Neville’s face get red. Luna and Ginny became slightly intrigued while Dean and Seamus howled in laughter. Neville side-eyed you and then sighed when you gave him a cheeky smile, knowing exactly what was about to happen. You held up your hands and began counting on your fingers.

“Gryffindor quidditch team’s locker room, Room of Requirement, Astronomy Tower. Room of Requirement again. The back stairwell by Dumbledore’s office, stairwell by the library, all the stairwells actually. Potions classroom— almost got caught by Snape. Back to the locker room…”

“Bloody hell.”

Neville looked at you. “Why?”

You stood up and grabbed your trunk as the train pulled into the station.

“It was your turn to be the one blushing and breathless. I’m still a Slytherin, you know.”

Neville pulled you back down and kissed you hard, not caring about the others. You laughed and grabbed your trunk, walking out to go find Draco so you guys could go home. Narcissa met the two of you at King’s Cross and practically rushed you and Draco home. Malfoy Manor was never unwelcoming until now. Ministry officials checked all of your trunks before letting you in the house. With Lucius in jail and your mother having escaped, the Malfoys were being watched. You were thankful they weren’t inside the house but you had a suspicion that they jinxed items to spy on you all which made you very uncomfortable when you reached your bedroom.

By the second week, you had gotten used to them. They knocked every morning to sweep the house before going back to their post outside. They would do the same at night. You were allowed to leave whenever and from what you knew no one was tracking you when you left the house. You had to show them any letters before sending them.

That was the part that drove you insane. Your letters to Neville and his letters to you were private. They were between the two of you and you didn’t appreciate some random adult reading them and even laughing at some of the things you wrote. You snatched Neville’s letter back after the guy on post snorted for the third time.

“I was done with it anyway, kid.”

You went back inside and flopped onto your bed. Draco was tempted to grab the camera from the fireplace mantle and take a picture when he entered your room. You were reading Neville’s letter, resting your chin on your free hand with your legs in the air and your feet bobbing around. He dropped onto the bed beside you. You didn’t care if Draco was peering over your shoulder and looking at the letters.

“He’s counting down the days till he can hold you? Merlin, you two are gross— you actually like this stuff?”

You turned onto your back and clutched the letter to your heart. Draco scoffed.

“You bloody like that stuff… Sap.”

“Just because you have no romance skills doesn’t mean every boy is like you, Draco. Pansy would love something like this.”

Your cousin leaned over to grab your Big Ben snow globe, shaking it. “Pansy would like anything.”

“You could still try to woo your future wife—”

“Don’t say that.”

“Why? She is go—”

“I rather act like I’m picking Pansy because I completely like her and if I completely liked a girl, I wouldn’t even be thinking about marriage right now. Just the next time I can snog her.”

“And you said I’m the gross one?”

He rolled his eyes. “Where’d Mother go?”

“I don’t know, thought she was with you.”

“No, I’ve been looking for her all day. I guess it’s just us for dinner again.”

“Do you think she’s still going to the Ministry to ask to see Uncle Lu?”

Draco frowned. “Why bother? He knew what could happen if he became a Death Eater again. Come on, let’s eat.”

You and Draco made a simple meal and ate on the large couch since no one was there to scold you and tell you to eat at the table. Neither of you even flinched when the door opened and Ministry officers came in to sweep the place. They closed the door, not even muttering a goodbye. You and Draco did flinch when five minutes later, a large snake was slithering out of your fireplace. You went stiff as you came face to face with Lord Voldemort. He smiled, making your stomach churn.

“Children, I didn’t interrupt dinner, did I?”

You both shook your head, furiously. Voldemort nodded. You tried not to shake as Nagini slithered away from him and over the couch, slowly wrapping herself around you. Voldemort motioned for Draco to stand. The boy did so, ever so slowly. The older wizard looked at you for a moment with a tilt of his head.

“You do look so much like your mother. A fearsome duo you two will be. Draco, I have a task for you.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I told my followers this morning what I intended for you, your Aunt is happy with this reward. You haven’t had a chance to prove yourself like your cousin— I have to say, Lestrange, seducing Longbottom after knowing his parents were crucio’d by your mother is brilliant. We’re all very pleased with you, you’ll rise quickly through the ranks. Your parents want to be there when you crucio him. I would like to watch the affair as well.”

You nodded because you were too afraid to speak. Nagini’s body felt like it was getting heavier as she settled over you. One wrong move and you were worried that she would start to constrict around you. Voldemort went back to Draco.

“I’m afraid your task isn’t as racy as (Y/N)’s but it is just as exciting. Your Headmaster is in the way of something I want. I need you to kill him for me, Draco. Before this school year’s over, I cannot wait any longer. I need you to kill Albus Dumbledore. Don’t fail me like your father. I’d hate to lose this family in my ranks.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco squeaked out.

Voldemort smiled and looked from your cousin to you and back. He nodded in satisfaction. “There is hope amongst our youth. Come, Nagini.”

He was gone as quickly as he appeared. Draco shook as he sat back down on the couch. You two didn’t know where Narcissa was but you knew she had to be with Bellatrix and they were with other Death Eaters. You looked over at your cousin. Draco’s head was buried in his hands.

“Either we die or Dumbledore dies.”

“Draco…”

“I’m not getting myself killed for that old man!”

“You won’t be the same if you do it. You can’t kill him, Draco, I know you.”

“I don’t have a choice… stay away from me this year, you don’t need to be dragged back into any of this.”

You shook your head. “I’m not leaving you alone.”

“(Y—”

“I know what it feels like when the entire school hates you. They’re going to turn on you, I won’t let you face that alone. I’ve been hated longer than loved by everyone, I don’t care about going back to hate. You’ve always protected me. I��m protecting you, now.”

Draco watched you pull out your wand. “What are you doing?”

“Give me your arm.”

“They’ll track—”

“You know very well they track magic by house and not wand. How many times have we dueled in the house when your parents weren’t home? Give me your arm.”

You and Draco rolled up your sleeves and grabbed each other’s arm. You pointed the wand at where your arms touched.

“Finitum. Altera verba signa inter nos. Promitto.”

The first gold ring of the Unbreakable Vow formed around your arms. You looked at Draco to say his first vow.

“You’ll never hate me,” he said.

“I won’t hate you,” you repeated.

Another gold ring appeared.

“You will tell me everything you do when it comes to Dumbledore. No secrets, not until he’s dead,” you said.

“I’ll tell you everything, no secrets.”

Another ring.

“You won’t interfere,” Draco said.

“I won’t interfere. And you’ll protect me when this all goes to shit.”

Draco gave a small smile. “I’ll always protect you. You won’t risk hurting yourself to protect me, physically and emotionally… you won’t risk hurting yourself to protect me.”

“I won’t risk hurting myself to protect you.” You both nodded and you pointed your wand once more. “Ad mortem.”

Six gold rings burned brightly before disappearing. You and Draco briefly hissed in pain. Right under the bends of your elbows, on the arms you two had grabbed, were two small tattoos in the shape of an anatomically correct heart. You looked up at your cousin.

“We’ll get through this,” you said.

“It’s always been us against the world, hasn’t it?”

“Us against the world.”

You and Draco both slept on opposite sides of the large couch, not wanting to be out of each other’s sight. The nightmare that was another Hogwarts school year was about to start again. You were mentally preparing yourself for everyone to hate you again— and for those words to come out of Neville’s mouth when he eventually finds out.

(Part 6)...

[y0itsbri]

oh dear oh my! tagged by so many lovely stars for macy's Tag Game Tuesday: The MySpace Survey ⭐️ thank u thank u @celestialmickey @creepkinginc @mishervellous @energievie @whatwouldmickeydo @mmmichyyy @suzy-queued @rereadanon @heymrspatel ⭐️

what’s your name? bri

your sun sign: leo the lion!

the last song you listened to: grinding halt - the cure

what are you wearing right now? green and black tie dyed pajama pants, a grey stranger things oversized t shirt, and bare feet 🐻🦶

how tall are you? 5’ 6”

piercings? i've had 5 in my ears but i'm p sure they're all closed

tattoos? zip

glasses? contacts? glasses ever since i turned 16 😔

last drink: half a berry hibiscus seltzer i split w my mom

last thing you ate: sun chips as a snack! enchilada as a meal!

favorite color: *grips the rainbow tight to my chest* all of them

any pets? beautiful long hair calico kitty and an old man hermit crab

do you have a crush on anyone? does the sun rise each day?

favorite fictional character: villanelle 🔪

a movie you think everyone should watch: twilight

a book you think everyone should read: the 'all for the game' series! suddenly i care about a fictional sport?? and some ragtag traumatized college kids?? and somehow the mafia??? also gay??

the last place you traveled: girl i have no idea. i went to a concert the other night and even though that was just like. downtown. it felt like an Event

something you’re looking forward to: someday i am going to buy a nintendo switch and finally get to play animal crossing 😤

tagging @pinkmatter-mp3 @grumpymickmilk @vintagelacerosette @ian-galagher mwuah

[martianbugsbunny]

As The Storm Blows Through (A FrankenWolf Fic)

Howdy! This fic was spawned from the same basic idea as my blanket fort fic, but it turned out a bit different than I expected. It’s sort of short, which suits it, and it’s a slightly angsty domestic thing (what else would happen with FrankenWolf?) So read on and enjoy!

Ruby slammed the car door shut behind her and sprinted to the porch of the small house she and Victor had recently moved into. It was pouring buckets; it had been most of the day, and her clothes were still damp from running to her car from the diner fifteen minutes ago. Her hair was sticking to her face, which was annoying, and her new red shirt was bleeding color all over her favorite pair of jeans.

She didn’t really like the rain.

As she dug through her purse looking for her keys (Victor often locked the door while he was home alone, as he became too distracted by his experiments to keep an eye out for thieves—which there were a surprising number of in Storybrooke, Ruby had noticed), Ruby heard a loud crack of thunder in the distance.

Victor really didn’t like storms. Ruby sped up her search and unlocked the door, kicking it shut behind her. She pulled off her boots as she headed down the hall towards the stairs. “Victor? Honey, you home?”

There was no response from within the house, but she saw the dry-cleaning bag he was supposed to have picked up that afternoon hung over the back of a chair in the living room, so she knew he had to be there.

Ruby jogged up the stairs, her footsteps all but soundless in her comfiest, thick grey socks. She took a right at the top of the stairs and there was the master bedroom; the guest room was on the left.

Sure enough, Victor was curled up on the wide bed, a pile of different soft blankets covering all of him except his head. His head was resting on Ruby’s brown collie-shaped pillow.

Ruby went and sat cross-legged at the head of the bed. “Hey,” she said softly, offering him her hand. “You want to talk about it?”

He didn’t need to. Ruby already knew from past experiences that storms reminded Victor of the night his brother was brought back to life—the night their father died, and the night Victor realized that his miraculous cure for death hadn’t worked the way he expected it to. It was, Victor had made it clear, the worst night of his life.

Victor shook his head. He laced his fingers together with Ruby’s. “Just stay here until the storm passes,” he whispered.

Ruby nodded. That she could do. She scooted over and pulled Victor’s head into her lap, draping her arm across his shoulders. The collie pillow she pushed into his arms for him to hug—he was a good emotional support dog, considering he wasn’t a real animal.

She closed her eyes and leaned back against the headboard. Although the thunder outside hadn’t grown any quieter, Victor’s panicked breathing had settled some.

There was nothing she loved more (aside from Victor himself) than knowing that she was able to help. To calm him. To make him feel less alone and afraid.

Ruby hated storms on Victor’s behalf, and the way they made him feel was like a little stab in her own heart, but she loved that she was his anchor.

[nightfallrevel]

Sitting in between Hitoshis legs and playing video games together as a married couple (age like 22) and your playing animal crossing and you give him a shirt in game that says "Number 1 Daddy" and hes all confused thinking it’s supposed to be kinky but actually reader is preggo

A/N:

I am finally posting this. I originally had this nearly done back when it was first requested, but then it all got deleted when my laptop decided it was time to update itself and shut down. I was so mad that I couldn't even come back to this for the longest time.

I hope you don't mind that I strayed from using second person and instead wrote it as an unnamed and as generic as I could make her OC. I really have come to despise second person POV and avoid writing it where I can.

Please enjoy!

CW: none, all fluff

Words: 1,141

They’d been married for just over a year and Shinsou Hitoshi couldn’t remember being happier. He’d met his wife a few years ago in a rather normal way and they had slowly become friends over time. The fact that he was a hero had never affected her opinion of him or swayed her feelings one way or another. She was understanding of his fluctuating hours and supported him on the hard days. In return, he gave her what she needed to chase her own dreams and career. They were a perfect match.

Of course, they fought, as all couples do, but they were always able to work things out. Communication and compromise were the keys to making their day to day lives work in the hardest of times, not that they had many of those. To anyone else, they probably looked like a pretty boring couple. Shinsou didn’t think so and he also liked to imagine that they were able to work as well as they did because they made sure to set aside time to spend together, not to mention a healthy sex schedule.

One of their favorite things to do together when they could was to play games. Anything from co-op to games that brought out their more competitive sides. Nothing made him happier to hear her laughter as she tried her hardest to beat him with every level they played - or accidentally hit a wrong button. Recently, though, his little wife had an obsession with a new game. A little slower paced than they usually went for, but it was cute and his wife was obsessed, so he played along to keep her happy. Not that he would ever admit that he actually loved the game, too.

“Hitoshi! Look! I finally caught the swordfish!” His wife gleefully shook her Switch screen in front of his face from between his legs where she sat on the floor. He grinned at her, seeing her character show off the catch with the silly pun in the speech bubble.

“Great job, babe. Make sure Blathers pays you handsomely for the time you spent looking for it.” He snickered as she rolled her eyes with a smirk. They’d been playing Animal Crossing for the past couple of months straight and she was obsessed with collecting all the bugs, fish, fossils, and crafting recipes. She would also spend hours creating new designs for clothes or tiles to make their shared island as perfect as possible.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be sure to collect on all the other things I’ve donated, too.” She turned back around, hunching over her Switch in her lap. “Now I can go back to making a new shirt.” Hitoshi smiled softly at the back of her head, feeling his affection for her welling up inside him. He’d have to cuddle her later, maybe after dinner.

Turning his attention back to the TV screen, he went back to collecting crafting materials and having fun with tormenting the villagers while he left his wife to her newest creation. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before she finally perked up. His gaze dropped back to her, noting the warm glow to her cheeks that always appeared when she was particularly pleased about something.

“Done! I’ve turned this into a shirt for you, so c’mere and I’ll give it to you.” A giggle left her, excited for him to have the shirt. He chuckled, knowing that particular giggle meant one of two things. Either she’d completely outdone herself and was extremely proud of herself, or it was something outrageously silly that he was being tricked into. He didn’t mind either way and immediately turned his character to meet her outside of the tailor shop.

“Alright. Do your worst, babe!” He snickered as she lightly swatted his shin. The shirt dropped on the ground and he picked it up. Going into his inventory, the name of the shirt simply said ‘1’ and he raised a brow before putting it on. His character made a flourish as the shirt changed and Hitoshi froze, unable to properly process what he was seeing.

The shirt itself wasn’t anything special, just a solid purple that matched the color of his hair. What threw him, however, were the bright words that were on proud display. “Number One Daddy”. He blinked a few times before his gaze slid down to his blushing wife, turning his raised brow on her. “I thought you weren’t into that kink? In fact, I think I specifically remember you vehemently stating how much it grossed you out.” His mouth kicked up into a teasing smirk as she blushed even brighter and hid her face against his knee.

“I do hate it!” She was quiet for a long time and he waited patiently for her to explain herself. “It’s not about the kink.” She finally said, her voice small as she peeked up at him. Hitoshi stared at her, brain refusing to pick up what she meant for several heartbeats. Dawning washed over him and his mouth fell open wordlessly. “Surprise?”

He blinked and his brain finally rebooted enough for him to close his mouth and swallow thickly. “Are you serious? Is this real? Are we… Are you… Babe. I need you to tell me right now if you’re trying to tell me what I think you are.” Nervously, she set her Switch aside on the coffee table and brought her hands to rest in her lap.

“Hitoshi, love of my life, I’m pregnant.” She gave him a small smile. “We’re going to have a baby.” Hitoshi sucked in a sharp breath, his chest tightening with emotion. They had talked a couple of times about kids, but never in too much depth. They both wanted to have one or two, and never really discussed much else; how soon they wanted one hadn’t come up. They hadn’t been trying, but they didn’t regularly use protection, either. It didn’t matter.

Moving forward, he gathered his wife in his arms and pulled her into his lap. “Babe, that’s amazing. I can’t believe it. You’re… seriously? You’re not pulling my leg here?” She laughed and nodded, leaning into him. He brought her in for a kiss, their lips melding together passionately. They broke apart and Hitoshi felt himself overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m gonna be a dad,” he whispered. “The best dad,” his wife whispered back, happy tears filling her eyes. He chuckled softly and reached up to wipe them away. His chest swelled with love and pride in the woman in his arms, the woman he called ‘wife’. They’d started a life together just over a year ago, and now it would only continue to grow as they brought new life into the world for them to cherish and raise. Together, just like in everything else they did, always together.