#this is just what i think off the top of my head maybe ill change my mind ab what i think she'd do. but yeaaaaaah ^_^

[camzverse]

Hi !

What do you think Vanessa does for a job after the events of the game?

heyo!! i dont think she got a full on job for like a whiiilee after sb. at first i thought shed keep working as a night guard at the plex to keep an income but considering her getting freed and all i dont think it would be a good idea. wouldnt be safe. so like not thattt.. anyway i think she worked smaller jobs for a while. like part time jobs. (maybe some night guard jobs at non pizzaplex locations..). so she could make money while not taking up too much of her time either since there were . other matters to worry about (making mxes stopping the mimic and so forth). probably had to have multiple jobs considering shes now living with an extra person and a robot ('s head) and would need more money. i like to imagine that way later, after everythings resolved and normal (or as normal as it can be, lmao) she gets a full time job in something related to her original job in game development and testing. not sure exactly what.. i dont know if i think she'd work as a beta tester again. definitely wouldnt test any vr games, i dont think she'd ever play one again. but maybe something in actually like developing the games themselves. i feel like it would give her a feeling of control over it, and she'd like that. at least thats what id imagine

[dexaroth]

i cant believe the day but i finally got a full tower pc. bought it already built and at a considerable discount of some 320 dollars off. its fucking huge and theres so many things going on inside... i was initially planning on choosing the parts myself but finding the graphics card was so hard and everyone else convinced me to just buy it built and honestly? good. id probably have fucked this up so badly by myself

i cant use it yet bc i took too long to buy the monitor that was also on sale and now its regular price -_- tho i managed to find a discount used one for now. well see how that goes since ill get it tomorrow. i tested it on out living room tv and it had some kaspersky thingy open and like thats so cute. i hope they left some treats in the browsing history for me to search through before i wipe it clean

[bigwishes]

Embarrassed?

Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.

"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"

He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.

But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.

He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.

---

The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.

"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.

His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.

He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.

Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.

"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"

Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.

Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.

"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"

He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.

As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.

He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.

He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.

Cutcshhhhhhh!

the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.

"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.

Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...

but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.

He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.

"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way

Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.

"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"

Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.

The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.

The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.

He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him

Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.

He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.

Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....

Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.

"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"

Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.

"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"

the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them

The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.

Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.

"god...I'm such..."

His dick instantly got hard again.

"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"

Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"

Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...

Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.

[pinksturniolo]

phone sex head canons

warning: nfsw!!

what would it be like to sext / have phone sex with….

Chris ✰

- oh, he definitely gets needy when you’re away from him. you could be on vacation, or at work or maybe he’s on tour or visiting his family in boston. whatever it is that’s separating you two at that moment, he’s blowing up your phone.

but don’t call him clingy. he would never admit that and he gets an attitude if you even imply it. still, there he is, calling you for the fifth time since you made it to your hotel. you’ve barely set your stuff down and he’s demanding you face time him.

“babyyyy i miss you already..”

“chris i’m only gonna be gone two days, i promise ill be back before you know it.”

“i know, i know…”

his eyes trail down your face and to your chest as you pull your hoodie off, just a tight tank top with no bra underneath. he immediately feels the blood rush to his lower half. it’s almost pathetic how quickly you turn him on. but he doesn’t care.

and now he’s getting even harder as you prop your phone up on the night stand, pulling off your jean shorts so you can change into your pajama pants. the sight of your bare thighs and the pink lace of your underwear has him squeezing himself through his pants, unable to help himself now.

“come on baby… don’t do this to me.”

“chris what are you on about?”

you’re a little clueless until you notice his gaze fixated on your body and his hand directly over the large tent in his pants.

“what am i supposed to do with this now?” he gestures to his boner and your heart races, a playful smile forming on your face.

“hmm.. why don’t you take some clothes off? and maybe we’ll see..”

of course this ends with you and him helping each other get off through face time, your fingers playing with the wet mess between your legs while he talks you through it, stroking his dick until he cums in his hand.

Matt ✿

- he's sooo sweet. he loves how you patiently wait for him when he's away working. to be honest, he's not a huge texter. he prefers in person conversation and only talks on the phone if necessary. but with you, he always has time.

he loves to listen to your voice and spend all night talking with you. if you're not around each other, he's constantly thinking of what you're doing. if you miss him as much as he misses you... if you feel that certain missing piece only he can satisfy...

his thoughts can get a little... dirty. but he's not your stereotypical "send nudes" kind of guy. still, he knows how to tease you and let you know just how much he wants you. he likes to wait until you're in public or around other people, to catch you off guard. just to mess with you a little.

"and that was my day. how was yours?" you ask, your phone pressed to your ear as you mix the cookie batter. it was family night at your parent's house, and they were picking the next movie as you made everyone dessert.

matt was in boston for the weekend, and just finished filming a car video.

"boring. and lonely without you. i wish you were here."

"me too... i definitely need to go with you next time."

"yes you do. and then i can show you my old room like you've always wanted."

you smile to yourself, scooping the batter onto the baking sheet. you always told matt how much you wanted to visit his childhood home.

"and... i can show you how comfortable my bed is..."

you can practically hear the smirk on his face.

"oh yeah?"

"yeah. would you believe me if i said you would be the only girl who's been in it?"

your smile grows wider, putting the cookies in the oven.

"it's not nice to lie, matt."

"i swear."

he teases you even more the next day, when he texts you while you're at dinner with your friends. he gets you all worked up while you squeeze your thighs together under the table until you can’t take it anymore and run somewhere private to call him.

taglist!! <3

@mattspolitank @sturniolopepsi @whicked-hazlatwhore @tillies33ssss @riasturns @christhopersturniolo @junnniiieee07 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @mattslolita @certifiednatelover @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @wh0resstuff @ribread03 @sturniololoco @75sturn @mattscoquette @jnkvivi @h3arts4harry @chrizznmetswife @bambi-slxt @streamermattsgf @jetaimevous

[baddiewiththebook]

ONE OF THE BOYS

-> While you pine hopelessly over your best friend, Eddie Munson. You hear the sentiment 'one of the boys' one too many times and you've decided to change that. All in the name of the one boy who won't even look at you, or so you think.

-> eddie munson x you (she/her)

-> friends to lovers, slow burn, angst

-> warnings - strong language and suggestive themes [no smut]

-> a/n originally a one-shot, but I couldn’t help myself and wrote some more!

Part 1 [Part 2]

-> <-

Your heart sinks into the deepest pits of your chest. The tiny inconspicuous hole where no one would ever look. Your spirit lies under the earth, while Eddie lies bricks instead of dirt across your corpse. A quite violent death you have taken on.

“Are you still with us?” Gareth waves a hand in front of your face. Grease slips between his fingers from his two day old burger that your school pretends was freshly slapped on a grill that morning.

You squirm. “Sorry, what was that?”

“Eddie says you could come to practice,” he throws his hand up. “You’re one of the boys!”

Right.

Like someone had thrown water across your face, you slide theatrically to the floor in a puddle of you. Theatrically speaking - of course.

The lunchroom chatter dies in the back of your head like you just did a moment ago. You excuse yourself from the group, while claiming that you have forgotten your exam in the next class period and you should really put in at least a few moments of study time.

Your few moments are actually spent stowing yourself away in the ladies room.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe he asked you out!” A girl squeals. “What are you going to wear? Tell me everything!”

You had stopped your self doubting and your eternally ill fading romantic imaginations you came up with while you stare at the dull gaze in your eye behind the dirty spotted bathroom mirror. You should focus on your studies anyway. Failing your senior year of high school, again, was not on your list of to-do's.

Then again, the two girls gossiping were very pretty. You took notes. Hair full and down to her chest in length. The kind of hair Texas wishes they had. Cheeks were plump, and dusted pink with some powder of sorts. Full lips covered in sweet strawberry gloss. You can smell their gloss from just a sink away. That, or perhaps that was their perfume. Sweet and feminine.

“I'm sorry,” one of them notices you staring, while she applies a thick coat of her lip-gloss. 'Strawberry Dream' is what the little label on the tube reads. “Are we being loud?”

“No, no,” you shake your head.

“Okay,” she sings awkwardly, before continuing the conversation her friend had started. “Anyway, Josie, I think we should go shopping for a new outfit. Oh! I - so - need a new gloss. Something sexy!”

“Sexy?” You accidentally slip the words, before you could stop yourself.

The girl cocks her head. “Do you usually eavesdrop?”

Not that they weren’t talking in front of her.

“My bad,” you tug at the ends of your t-shirt. “Erm- you’re trying to impress this boy?”

“Yes,” she says simply. “Do you have some sort of advice?”

Looking you up and down, she spots the stains from your lunch at your chest. Trying not to snort and jeer at your expense, she waits for you to respond. Her cocky tight lipped smile says enough.

“Actually,” you reply. “I- Why don’t you try being yourself? He clearly likes you to ask you out, so maybe you could tone it down?”

“Tone it down?” She frowns. “Like you? Tell me er- girl of some sort- how many dates have you gotten with that fresh out of bed look you wear every single day. You look like a shy boy. Yeah, I see you around. You’re small like a shrimp. You need to be shark in these waters or your going to get your head bitten off. Put on a bra. A low cut top. And, maybe some blush to hide that dead corpse face you wear-,”

“It’s my skin-,”

“When you get a date, then you get an opinion. Got it?”

“Got it,” you zip your lips. What a bitch.

-> <-

Practice, as the group of men slamming poorly synchronized chords together, is held at Gareth’s garage promptly after school. You did not participate in the noise, but rather you sit in a lawn chair onlooking. Fanning yourself with your hands, sweat glistens across your skin like armor.

Your friends finish their set. Eyes on you, you cheer for their noise that will surely draw eyes from the neighborhood. Someone will be by soon to tell the boys to quiet their racket, and to perhaps indulge themselves in a new activity like reading a book. The Book, perhaps.

“You’re getting better,” you propose promisingly.

Eddie nudges your shoulder with a fist on his way to the cooler to grab a cold soda. You pretend like your heart didn’t just stop inside of your chest.

“I told you, guys,” Eddie has been raving to his band mates (and occasional D&D players) that you, his B.F.F., wasn’t going to ruin practice. That just because you might have a new rack and hips hidden underneath this t-shirt wasn’t going to change any dynamic within the group.

They all agreed about this while staring at your ever growing chest and hips. You cover your chest again, before speaking out of turn.

“Are you ever going to preform these songs?” You ask the group.

Eddie’s plush lips touch the bottle his soda came in. Condensation from the glass dripped across his chin and down his neck to the exposed flesh of his chest.

And, they were so worried about you “developing.” Here you are, eyeballing your best friend like you haven’t ever seen him before. Suddenly, you woke up one morning and you were obsessed with him!

It isn’t like that at all. You didn’t know when you began having feelings for your best friend. Somewhere between living next to each other in the trailer park. Sneaking out after your curfew to splash in Lovers Lake (Eddie’s favorite way to wash off his worries). And, the times you tripped over your own clumsiness when Eddie was the first to rescue you. You might have just fallen into his eyes you stared at them so long. Maybe- maybe that’s when something changed.

No more boys and girls - there are men and women. High school changes us - all of us. There’s science behind it all, you suppose. You took health courses, but no scientific explanation could bring you to figure out how you were completely enamored by your best friend.

Your best friend, who is sweating underneath the heat of the garage. Finding himself without options, he strips his shirt.

“Hold this for me,” he says like there’s no issue. Because there was no issue for him, you’re alone in your feelings. Classic.

“Sure,” you fold his shirt up in your lap, while resisting the urge to inhale his scent like a trained dog trying to find a missing person. Or, like an addict getting their fix for the first time in days.

“And, yes,” Eddie announces, before slamming down a new chord. “Come watch us at the Hideout!”

“Really?!”

“Sure,” Gareth speaks for his friend. “If you want.”

“I’ll come,” you ask, “What time?”

“We’ll start setting up around six in the evening, but we’re not set to play until seven,” Eddie explains to you. “Friday.”

You nod. “I’ll be there!”

“Oh, Eddie!” Gareth grabs his attention. “You gonna bring Roxie?”

Roxie Martin? Now, she’s a hot pair of tits in a mini skirt. Full scarlet lips, Rockin’ Roxie, as some people called her, was a She Devil in human skin. Sinking her teeth into her pray, she poisons them with feminine venom. She doesn’t even have to sing them a tune, for men will follow her into the depths of the vast blue ocean without question.

Some just thought she was a slut in heels, though.

Whatever story floats.

Eddie strums a sour note.

“Dude, I’m just teasing,” his friend snickers.

Eddie scolds his friend, then the group of boys begin to slam on their instruments some more.

You sat there for hours watching Eddie slobber over his guitar. Sweat glistened down across his skin. His fingers striking each chord by heart as he did every night. Touching the strings expertly with the tips of his cherry red fingers. He begun feeling sore towards the end of the night, and the guys agree that it would probably be a good opportunity to turn in for the night.

Practice would resume tomorrow.

And you were forever and eternally frustrated.

-> <-

“Robin,” you slouched over the clear candy bowl labeled ‘Free.’ “I need to be a girl.”

Robin jabs away at the keypad of the store computer that is clearly frozen. While she might be renting out videos to people, Robin’s shit with technology.

That gave her more time to ignore her responsibilities, however, and acknowledges to your moping. With an arched brow, she sucks in her lips and she lets them go with a loud pop.

“You are a girl,” she states the obvious, while appearing to look down at your chest. “Or- so I think.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you stuff more candy into your mouth like a starved squirrel just coming out from hibernation. Squirrels hibernate, don’t they? Whatever.

“What ever could you possibly mean?” She props herself up onto her elbows.

There was a time when you were a child that a mean boy kicked dirt on you at the playground. Swooping in like your knight in shining armor, Eddie came to you to brush the dirt from your clothes and to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Feeling outcasted, Eddie surrounded himself in the weaker kids. The kids that enjoy recess sitting on the brick wall of their school, or close by the door to wait for your teachers to let you back inside.

You read books with him during quiet reading because he didn’t know how to keep the letters from mixing together. Eddie would apologize for his hair being frizzy, and all over the place. You thought he was funny looking like that.

Sometimes you wish you could go back to the good old days where your heart didn’t sing in your chest whenever your childhood best friend was near. You wish the aching in your bones would sooth itself instead of feeling fuzzy every time Eddie greeted you at a whisper from behind. That his strong hand touching you like a doll would become friendly again, and less like you want to shove him against the lockers to kiss his pretty face.

You knew better.

Yet, here you are.

Say it had something to do with what happened yesterday. Roxie’s sexy. You want her sexy. Not her. But, just the sexy. And, whoever was in the bathroom was right. You’re much more than a baggy t-shirt and a pair of denim on your legs. You grew up during the summer, and so what if you want to show off a bit. You earned your assets.

“I can’t tell you,” you put out there for Robin to read. “You’ll blab to Steve, and Steve will tell- doesn’t matter.”

You wait for her to speak, but Robin never does. She blinks at you.

“There’s this boy-,”

“A boy?!” Her voice echoes against the furthest most walls.

You wave your hands. “Robin!”

“Go on!”

“I just - I want to grow up a little.”

The jangle of the front door opening broke their conversation apart. There was nothing elegant about Eddie Munson. He slammed his jacket into the stand of desperately rentable tapes. The display wobbled. Swiveled. And, slammed into the floor. The video tapes splattered.

“Dude!” Robin huffs. “I just put those up!”

Eddie scrambles to rescue the mess. “My bad, Robs. You know? You might not want to put these right in front of the walkway. ‘Could get knocked over - see?”

Robin knew Eddie from class. Smart mouth guy with a lot to say about literature. He held a lot in his head, but once he got to a piece of paper, he could just go.

“The usual, Eddie?”

Oh, and he also rented out the same tape once a week for the past three weeks. It was a Rated R film that had a single one minute scene of a nude woman on top of a man she was suffocating. Not with her boobs- with his belt.

Robin snaps back into reality.

“Eh, looking for something new,” he fixed the display, before joining the girls at the register. “Suggestions?”

Robin slams her palm against the monitor. “Stupid thing is still frozen. Oh! Did you hear your little pal has a crush on a boy?”

“Robin!” You cringe. Turning into the wallpaper sounds really nice right about now. Hell, you’ll fix that computer if it gets Robin off the topic of you.

Anyone, she can blab to anyone, but Eddie. Where was Steve when you needed him? Oh, you are so screwed!

“What? It’s just Eddie!”

Just Eddie - yeah, Robin, that’s the problem.

“A crush? On who?” Eddie scoffs out loud.

Your jaw goes agape. “Are you saying I can’t have a crush on someone?”

“No, I just- you’re one of the guys!”

“She can’t be one of the guys forever,” Robin defends you. Perhaps she saw you twitch. “She’s a girl underneath those stains.”

You brush your dirty t-shirt.

“Robin-,”

“What? Whoever this boy is, he’s shit out of luck if he doesn’t see what we all see,” your friend continues.

Eddie teeters his balance back and forth on each foot.

“I’m going to go look for a movie,” he says.

Robin ignores him shuffling into the isles. “I’m just saying if he doesn’t like you back that is his loss. Right?”

You peak around for any sight of Eddie. His frizzy mane is locked onto a movie in the farthest isle.

“Oh my god,” Robin follows your gaze. “Oh my god! This is big- no, huge- I can’t believe before my eyes your friends to lovers trope-,”

“Robin! Hush!” You whisper at a much louder volume than you anticipate.

Yet, here comes Eddie back to the counter without a film in hand. Robin shoots you a glance that screams that she’s about to burst like a toddler who has to pee, but they can’t get their overalls off.

“Can’t find anything?” Robin intertwined her fingers in front of her.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Eddie sighs.

The sound that came from Robin’s lips could have been the earth splitting in two, and trying to suck her in or the angels above calling her back to heaven. She’s a bit eccentric.

Oh, God, you think she’s plotting.

“Actually,” she settles. “I have a film back here that we haven’t set out on shelves yet.”

“Is it a romance?” He guesses purely based on the actors gazing longingly on the front cover. “Robin, I don’t do romance.”

“Obviously,” she says as a matter-of-fact. “Anyway, this is a mystery. Hm? You know? Like clues and shit.”

“Clues and shit?”

“Maybe,” you signal ‘no’ to Robin, but she blatantly ignores you, “you two can watch it together. Hm? Solve the mystery, before the show ends? Let me know what you think!”

“Robin-,” Eddie begins, but Robin is already scanning the tape to rent out.

“It’ll be fun!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’ll see you around six for a movie night like old times?”

You mask your embarrassment. Nodding in a set agreement, Eddie left with the film still eyeing the cover like it had just insulted him.

“How could you do that?” You shame her.

Robin shrugs her shoulders, while dancing behind the counter like a relationship fairy.

“Oh! You’ll need something to wear by then!” She shouts to her coworker. “Steve! I’m not feeling well! Will you be okay for the rest of the day?!”

“Ah ha,” Steve appears like he’s been waiting for permission to enter the conversation. “You’re not leaving me here by myself!”

“What was that? I can’t hear you,” she points to her ear, as she’s setting her jacket over her shoulders. “Ear ache.”

“Robin!”

“Huh? Oh, thank you!” She shuffles herself and you out the front door.

Warm air meets you outside. Although you wished to take off another layer, you felt practically naked as is. Cotton blend shirts were thick in these spring days. The same could be said for your denim jeans.

“Won’t he be mad?” You ask.

Robin snorts. “Steve? No.”

No explanation given - no explanation necessary. Robin and Steve were like a pair of siblings at most times. Although, knowing Steve had a thing for Robin at some point made the analogy much creepier than it should have been.

You drive yourself and Robin back to your home where your family was not. They’re out of town for the whole week doing an anniversary trip. Figuring your of the age to take care of yourself, they’ve left you by yourself with only the responsibility of keeping the home clean.

“What are we looking for?” You sit on your made bed hugging one of your pillows to your chest, while Robin riffles through your closet.

Robin shoves another dress across the hanger to the disapproved pile. Her grunts and sighs are discouraging as is, but rather her blatant disregard that you like some of those clothes is hurting even more. Or, maybe you like those clothes. You haven’t gone shopping in a while.

“Do you own anything that isn’t from Forever 40?” She jokes heartily.

You tilt your head to one side. “I like my clothes.”

“Well, we don’t have time for shopping,” she scans around your room for something. Jostling your clean laundry, your papers across your desk and the drawers under them - she finally lets out an, “Ah, ha!”

You groan. “Are you going to clean your mess?”

Clearly ignoring you, Robin holds up a sharpened pair of scissors like a magic wand. Holding one of your plain shirts in the air, she begins slicing away at every angle.

“Hey!” You protest.

She pauses. “Right, put it on.”

“Rob, that’s my favorite shirt!”

“I’ll buy you another one,” she shoves your head through the hole, and continues sniping at the edges. Fondling your chest, she measures where the top of your breast lies. “Hey! Your the first woman to let me touch their boobs. Congrats!”

You laugh at this. “Robin, as your friend, you can touch my boobs any time you need a fix.”

“Don’t tease me with a good time,” she jokes back. With one more snip, she steps away from you. “You have any skirts? No, of course you don’t. Jeans will have to do.”

You couldn’t hear Robin’s tangent. In the standing mirror hung on your wall, you saw someone new. Surely, she moves when you move. Her chest bounces while she breathes. That tan from the summer on the beach is touching her skin in a most devilish manor. You hold your chin a bit higher seeing what a few snips from craft scissors will do.

“Makeup!” Robin insists.

Pink rouge presses into your cheekbones. Those cheekbones you earned from your grandmother. That’s always the compliment your mother spoke. And, mascara coated thickly across your eyelashes. Your lashes are rather short, but with that black mascara you were seeing yourself glow with confidence.

Lip gloss that tasted like honey-

“In case you’re kissing any boys tonight,” she clicks the tube together with the wand. “My dear, you’re ready.”

You take a spin in the mirror.

“I hardly recognize myself,” you touch your hair.

Robin slaps your hand away. “Don’t mess that up, before Eddie gets here. Oh! And, look at the time, I should go.”

You’re left by yourself for another hour. Twiddling your thumbs, and checking your makeup by the minute. Eventually, you pop popcorn in the microwave and place the bowl in the center of the coffee table in the living room. You twist the bowl around, so you can’t see the chip on the side from when you dropped the bowl a few years ago.

Tapping your foot against the plush carpet beneath your feet, you travel between worlds where you feel ridiculous for dressing up like this, but you also feel hot.

Denim cuts at your waist, and you begin to doubt wearing jeans instead of pajamas. You never wore jeans after you got home. Eddie will surely know what’s up.

You have no time to change your mind because the doorbell rings through the quiet house. Stillness - as if moving would threaten your life somehow. Then, again, the doorbell sings.

You drag the sweat from your hands onto the back of your jeans. Jeans that you should have changed to shorts. He’ll see right through your ruse!

You settle your nerves with one more glance over in the mirror in your little entryway. When you open the front door, Eddie’s tickling the lavender your mom set out on the front porch last week.

“What? Your shirt go through a lawnmower?” Was the first thing he says.

You knew it.

“Erm-,”

“I brought the movie, and beer,” he held up the movie and a six pack he snaked off of his uncle. “Come on, I’m freezing out here.”

Eddie doesn’t ask where anything is. He’s been here so many times before, birthdays, holidays and any time your mother has just come back from the supermarket with “the good snacks.”

You knew each other for some time, which is probably why he’s never going to see you as someone other than his best friend. Why would you think about that? You had a shot, right?

“I popped popcorn,” you pointed in the living room.

“Sick,” he drops down into your couch. “We can go ahead and start the movie - the guys will be here soon.”

“The guys?” You blurt.

“Well, yeah,” Eddie says. “Like old times?”

“Right,” the light in your eye fades, and you just hope Eddie can’t sense the hesitance in your tone.

In the next hour, your quiet date night that had been set up by your overly optimistic friend, swirls in the direction that it is always meant to be. You squish into the couch arm rest, while Gareth battles Eddie over the movie choice. Although, this time the boys came to an agreement that this was not an action movie like Robin promised Eddie earlier.

“Where’s the gore?!” Gareth flings popcorn at the television screen. “Throw her off the ledge!”

“You want to see an innocent woman flung to her death?” You snap at him.

A piece of popcorn drops from Gareth’s mouth, and into his awaiting lap. You didn’t come to raising your tone with the boys unless something truly bothers you. Clearly, by the tightness in your chest, some of the anger spills over the edge. Quite like the woman dangling the man’s waist.

“Never mind,” you stand. “I’m going to make more popcorn.”

Taking the bowl from Eddie, you stow away in the comfort of your kitchen. Before your mother left for her trip, a folded note stacked on the island told you to not bring anyone over. But, if you are going to have boys over, she asks that you use protection. She has a wild imagination if she thinks her daughter has a sex life.

She must have passed this onto you. You toss yourself at someone, who obviously holds no similar feelings as you do. This whole night was a bust. Your eyes itch from the mascara. Your lips bled from when you chewed on them like they’re your last meal. At least the color matches with your lip gloss that you reapplied many times in the bathroom when you need a break from the crowd in your living room. And, you can’t feel your waist anymore. Tingling below the belt - and for all the wrong reasons.

“You okay?” Gareth’s voice startles you.

You spin around, and he’s there standing where the carpet meets the linoleum.

A yell from the living room suggests something mortifying must have happened in the film like the boy finally kissing the girl, or perhaps saying something romantic.

“Yeah,” you blink. “Just- making more popcorn.”

Gareth doesn’t say anything about the popcorn bags sitting on the counter next to him, but the room reads itself. You scamper over to the bag, before ripping the plastic and the bag apart by accident sending kernels across the floor. Gareth meets you at the floor below.

“Shit,” you sniff. “I’ll get the broom.”

“Hey,” he grabs your arm, before you can run off again. “What’s going on?”

You sit next to the mess on the floor letting out a gust of air from your lungs that you’ve been holding onto for dear life.

“It’s stupid,” you tell him.

Gareth moves a piece of your hair from in front of your face. “What?”

You look at him for the first time. Between you two, you didn’t have to say a word he didn’t already know. Because while you’re chasing Eddie, Gareth’s warm heart is following after you. You’re blind to him before.

“Eddie’s not going to like me back, is he?” You whisper at an almost inaudible volume. Dabbing at your eye, you wipe the single tear threatening to break the damn.

Gareth sits next to you with his arms wrapped around his knees.

“I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think he just hasn’t woken up yet. He does talk about you a lot when your not around.”

“Really?”

“You scare him,” Gareth lets out a breathy laugh. “In a good way. He- he’s never had someone to rely on in his life besides his uncle. And, if what Eddie says is true, you’ll never truly change to please anyone. You’re loyal, and your funny. You’re beyond beautiful. The Goddesses shrivel in your light-.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“Okay, I might have added that last part,” he admits. “But, you never know if you don’t try.”

You reach out for his hand. “Thank you, Gareth.”

He squeezes your hand. “Anytime.”

You say. “And I- I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Erm- you know.”

“I guess I do,” he looks away. “I’ll be fine.”

You toss a popcorn kernel Gareth’s direction hoping to lighten the mood. Gareth snorts and tosses one back.

“We should clean up,” you tell him.

Gareth agrees. “Oh, and - when I said you don’t change, I meant it.”

You pull at your half shirt. “Yeah, I don’t think this is me. Everyone just kept telling me to stop dressing like a boy.”

“Trust me,” Gareth suggests. “You do not look like a boy.”

“Oh, shut up,” you gather yourself on your own two feet. “I don’t know - I kind of like the look, but maybe tone it down a bit?”

“I’ll get the broom,” Gareth says leaving your question unanswered. "Oh, and I promise to keep myself and the guys out of your way the next time Eddie suggests we all have a 'movie night'" at your house."

"You caught onto that?"

"It's a classic move," he sweeps. "I can't say I wasn't going to try it on you some day."

"Well, I'm sorry that it won’t work out between us," you assure him.

"I'll survive," he won’t really look at you now, only at the task at hand. "Besides, I know how great of a guy Eddie is. If you do go out with him, there’s no hard feelings."

Gareth sweeps every last kernel from the floor, then uses the dust pan to scoop them up and finally tosses them into the bin. By the time he's done scoping out every inch of your floor, you're done popping a new bag of popcorn.

The movie night continues without a hitch (aside from the merciless damning of the film coming from each of the boys in your home). Your eye on the one man, who could never look at you the way you do him. But, you don't know that for sure.

Because, as soon as you look away, Eddie's full attention is on you.

[pressureplus]

Chronically ill fan here! I’m currently having a costochondritis flare up because I overworked myself. (My sternum cartilage is inflamed and uncomfortable) All I want is cuddles and kisses and to be taken care of while I try to sleep it off. Could I possibly get romantic Sebastian and fem chronically ill reader where Sebastian cares for her during a costochondritis flare if that’s okay?

You don’t have to do any research on costochondritis either. At surface level it’s just inflammation and pain mainly in the sternum/rib area that can be aggravated by heavy lifting

Chronically ill representation in readers is rare and I’ve never seen costochondritis rep.

I hope this is okay! Thank you so much!

As someone who is also chronically ill, I felt this in my bones. I got you

Sensitive, Sensitive

Pairings: Sebastian Solace x Fem!Chronically ill!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Pet Names (Sunshine, Love)

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“Please- watch your hands.” You whine as Sebastian goes to pick you up. The additional pushing from his palms making your bones feel like they’re going to crack under all that pressure. You already felt like you weren’t intaking enough air, though you’re sure you are. That and the pain that you’d once almost worried could’ve been a heart attack waiting to happen? Yeah you didn’t need any more pain. You knew about your flare ups, knew you shouldn’t push yourself too hard, and you’d gone and done it anyway. Was it a bad idea? Yes but you’ve got to survive down here somehow, you’re not gonna eat if you lay around all day.

Your boyfriend, Sebastian, on the other hand already looked concerned. His hands taking the heavy box you were carrying right out from your grasp. His gaze flicking around the multitude of snacks you’d ripped out from vending machines in your desperation. You must’ve brought in at least several boxes of the stuff and while he hadn’t been too worried at first, the pained breaths you made sure changed his mind now. Your hand came up to almost attempt to soothe the ache with gentle rubbing, and maybe it helped a little but not nearly enough. Still you turned, getting ready to go back out with a new box when Sebastian coiled his tail around your legs and hips.

“Not so fast.” He hums, placing the box to the side and leaning down to your height.

“And what do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going back out? I’m not done emptying the-”

“You’re done now.”

“What?”

“I said, you’re done now. Come on, Sunshine, we’re laying down.” He’s careful to lift you up. This time avoiding the area causing you the most pain. He’s gentle, lifting you up by the hips and gently pressing you against his oddly comfortable body. His snake-like form slithering into the backroom and right up to your makeshift bed. Although it certainly wasn’t as comfortable as the ones at home, it would do. It always did. He was gentle when he laid you atop the mattress and tugged a thicker, comfortable blanket over top of you. His body sliding up against you, wrapping himself as close to you as possible. You attempt to wiggle out only the once before giving in, in far too much pain to wrestle yourself free this time.

“We’re going to lay in bed until you feel better.”

“It’s probably not going to go away for a while, and the pain isn’t going to fully subside anyway. You have to work- it’s all you do. You don’t have to lay here with me just because I’m hurting.”

“Y/N, I don’t mind laying with you at all. Why would I?” He softens and tilts your head to him. His lips pressing against yours as gently as he can, soft and sweet before pulling back from you. The fins on the sides of his head doing that cute little wiggle you’d grown so accustomed to seeing.

“I’m supposed to keep you safe, that includes from yourself. You’re not going to overwork yourself any further than you already have. What you are going to do though is rest.” An arm wraps around your waist, another combs through your hair and the third functions as a comfortable pillow for you.

“You’re sure I can just lay down here for a while?”

“You’re being an idiot, why would I be upset at you for resting?” He hits you with immediate sass and playfully nips at your jaw. His hand that lays over your hip rubs slow little circle against it.

“You don’t have to be a dick.”

“I’m not, I just know you aren’t always the brightest crayon in the box. I don’t want you hurting, Love. Now quiet down a bit and get some rest, hm? I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

[mosaickiwi]

yoohoo!!! @nabi004 and @mialuna4 and that one anon!!! sick angel request!!! many thanks for the love <3

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

~A Sick Angel~

“Can you please—”

“No.”

The past few minutes had been like talking to a brick wall. [REDACTED] hadn't let you move an inch from the bed since you’d woken up in an agonizing daze.

Sure, you felt like complete shit, maybe a little on the side of a fever. And the moment you sat up you wanted to scream. But it was manageable. If you tried, you'd be able to make it through a day at the library. 

Blue eyes quickly narrowed, as if they knew exactly what you were thinking. It was frustrating how stubborn they could be when he wanted to.

You attempted to frown at your companion. Nothing really changed about your haggard expression—thanks to your face and entire body feeling like dead weight—but your tone worked well enough. “I need to go to work today.”

“Not happening,” he insisted as he reached up to your forehead.

You closed your eyes for just a second. His cold palm against your brow was too heavenly to ignore. “I don't want to let Elanor down. Today's really important for her,” you croaked.

They didn't bother to hide the momentary disgust in their tone at the mention of your coworker. “She wouldn't want y’working either, Angel.” As if to prove his point, they tapped away on your phone. He'd been holding it hostage behind his back. 

Only a minute later, it dinged with a response and he finally held it out to you. Elanor had sent a polite and elaborate text as always. You read through it while he continued to run both of their cold hands over your heated face like two makeshift ice packs.

Good morning, [REDACTED]. At least I assume so from how brief that message was? Thank you for letting me know Y/N is ill! I'm sure they must be worried about missing today's event but we can handle it just fine! And I’m happy to take some pictures for them! Please take good care of them and give my well wishes. Regards, Elanor.

You raised an eyebrow and scrolled back up to the paltry message he'd sent her.

sick no work

Somehow, it was probably the nicest thing they'd ever managed to send any of your friends. You looked back up at him with what was meant to be a pout. “Okay then.”

With instant trust in your word, he stood up to leave the room. He soon returned with his arms full. A cold compress, medicine, some drinks, and anything else they thought you might need. You lightly rolled your neck and resigned to your fate as a patient when he sat next to you. The medicine and drink he offered were swallowed without fuss on your part, then you laid down. The throbbing pain already seemed to calm as you did.

The compress stayed at his side instead of being placed on your forehead like you thought. You felt their hand on your cheek yet again, a more noticeable chill to his rough skin this time.

“Just in case it feels too cold f’you,” he explained before you even asked.

It felt perfect, so you didn't mind at all. You practically purred in relief at the gentle circles they rubbed. You tiredly looked up to him as you complained, if only to tease them, “I'm a little disappointed you didn't bring out the nurse outfit.”

“‘Course you are.” His eyes lit up with mischief, a knowing smile cut across his lips to match your playful one. “I'll make it up t’you when y'feel better, yeah?” Their thumb slowly traced back and forth from one corner of your mouth to the other.

“Germs, you weirdo,” you reminded him. Though you didn't bother to shake off his hand, weak as you were. “You’ll get sick.”

“Y’worried about me, love? Cute. But I promise ‘M not gonna catch whatever you have that easy.” They leaned down to kiss your flushed temple, eventually settling propped up on one arm to lay as close as possible beside you. Faintly warm breath tickled the top of your head until you drifted back to sleep under their watchful gaze.

[anonymouscheeses]

Im sorry i have to say it..: Get Your Hands Dirty sounds like a love song.

HEAR. ME. OUTT!! (No i dont mean a love song between Chloe n Ella omg 😭)

What I'm implying here is that it sounds like one of those niche high school love stories when one of the lovers(most likely a goodie two-shoes) goes to their mentor/parent/even the person their loving/etc to ask for advice on relationships. Or more specifically, if this person is worth it or even a good person. From the top of my head: I Won't Say (I'm In Love) and the goodie and the wildchild dynamic is pretty similar to Gabriella and Troy from hs musical, which iws(iil) kinda inspired this post tbh but also ive been thinking about this ever since i first watched the movie. (You plop in ur own songs, i js KNOW this trope exists)

Now that we've established the well used niche trope existing in this niche song made by the niche king that is Disney.... why do i think that Get Your Hands Dirty is a love song, i hear?

Lets analyze THE LYRIICS 😈😈

"Right and wrong, cruel and kind, who's to say?" "There's a code that I believe in."

"Robin Hood" "yeah?" "Awesome guy" "yeah!"

"Every choice, you're gonna find there's shades of grey." "There are rules for a reason!"

"So you could then cross that line, theoretically."

"You'd agree?" "But he stole for the poor."

"The decision's always up to you. When there's only one thing left to do"

"I don't know you anymore.."

Okay, so i shortened and made it tiny for obvious reasons, that bein its too long 😭 so! AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO GETS A FEEELIN?? a feelin that this is SCREAMING denial?! Its giving...

Chloe: Ellaaaa.... this girl im talkn to is SOOO HHHOOOOTT and PRETTY and cool and stuff but ugh.... SHE EEEVILLL!!

Ella: oh my gosh.. STFU. Shes prolly not even that evil ill prove it smh..

*get ur hands dirty starts playing. No exaggeration. No cap.*

"Okay, but there's some universal truths you must recognize." "Like?"

"Valiant knights, pure and good, guaranteed" "That depends on what they're fighting for"

"Creepy witches selling potions for evil deeds" "She could have kids she's providing for"

"If your good-good things will come to you"

MORE denial, Chloe wants to be friends with Red SO bad she looks stupid, but she brings herself back by trying to prove to herself that she's evil and they SHOULDN'T be that close. Which also is a big sign of comphet and heteronormativity, i would know 🧍 (which is a post for another day i might make. Prolly 2 prove that Chloe is a lesbian in deep comphet)

"But just how far do you go? How much do you compromise? Oh, tell me, how do you know. Where do you draw the line?"

"There's nothing I wouldn't do. If my heart tells me it's right. If it's for someone I love. If it's to save a life."

"To save your life."

Further deepening the trope i mentioned. The first line could be interpreted as a double meaning since the song is kind of mostly about Chloe coming to terms with the fact Red isn't really evil or as bad as she thought, plus the argument of where the line between evil and good is. It could refer to Red or Ella, maybe both, but Ella changes the meaning with her own experiences so it drifts off the focus from Red because we cant have ANYTHING 🤧 but i still believe Chloe intended it to be for Red since the entire song is really just for the progress of their relationship n stuff.

Now this could definitely all be in my head, yes, Disney would most likely NEVER canonize or even imply heavily a queer relationship or anything lgbtq on a pre established franchise (cowards.). But there is always a chance.... deep inside the dark heart of the mouse..

Plus, with the subtle hints here and there of Red and Chloe's relationship growing, romantically or not, they are still super close and love eachother alot. Chloe is js (kinda) canonically a girl kisser who cant help but find a girl kissable (same)

And don't get me started on this movie and its obsession with love and proving how it is not "ain't it". Hello...? They set the tone of love, but i see NO person close enough to Red established for this message (other than Chloe) and if they introduce some random guy in the next movies, NO ONE would care nor would they want it unless somehow its 100x better than redcharming, but thats impossible cz wlw 4 life.

So, this entire thingy is me basically finding scraps and wanting to provr that charminghearts IS canon and WILL be established soon! (Im delulu)

[damagedcoda6669]

hiiiii!!!! i was wondering if u could share some of the most common to least common bpd symptoms?….and maybe ones u struggle with??? <:3

ive been thinking i have bpd for awhile,, (since i was 15,i’m almost 18 now) BUT i dont wanna self diagnose bc i don’t wanna offend anyone……is that offensive? to self diagnose? idek <:p

there isnt rlly least 2 most common, bpd is a spectrum and has a wide range of experiences!!! but i will list the diagnostic criteria 4 u, and explain it in a way some1 first learning abt bpd can understand ^w^

u must experience at least 5 of the 9 symptoms from the criteria in order 2 be diagnosed!!!

1: frantic efforts 2 avoid real or imagined abandonment; this does not include suicidal or self mutilating behavior covered in criteria 5.

this means an intense fear of abandonment. if u have bpd, being abandoned by those u love is most likely ur biggest fear. ik its mine!!! xD this can look like a number of things. this can include an avoidant attachment style, pushing ppl away becuz u feel a need 2 abandon them first b4 it happens 2 u. u might do the opposite and cling rlly hard. u might resort 2 manipulation tactics n threats 2 try 2 get them 2 stay even if its not in their best interest (not every1 w bpd does this, and not every1 w bpd doing this is doing it on purpose. ive done this in the past b4 i reflected on my own behavior and realized it was wrong. we r not abusers by default and we dont have bad intentions.) u might beg them 2 stay, promise them things, try 2 change urself 4 them, yell at them 4 wanting 2 leave. its terrifying what the fear might do 2 u.

2: a pattern of unstable and intense interpersonal relationships characterized by extremes of idealization and devaluation.

this ones pretty simple, consistently unstable relationships throughout ur life!!! but it might get a lil confusing at "extremes of idealization and devaluation", so ill try 2 explain that using a term from the bpd community, "splitting". splitting is when u switch from one extreme view of a person, object, character, pretty much anything, 2 the opposite. it USUALLY means going from loving some1 2 hating them, but it can mean the opposite (hating 2 loving), and it can apply 2 anything, not just a person. a good example of splitting is when ur fp (favorite person, another term from the bpd community) disagrees with u abt smth, or u see them hanging out with other ppl, u mightve viewed them as perfect b4 and now u feel an intense hatred and can only see them as a bad person. 2 other ppl, experiencing such a drastic change in perception over smth so small is seen as ridiculous, but rlly its entirely valid. its part of the disorder, its okay.

3: markedly and persistently unstable self image or sense of self.

u dont rlly know who u r a lot of the time, u dont have a strong sense of identity, if any at all. u might change styles often, change the way u talk, the jokes u make, ur beliefs, ur interests, ur hobbies. u might find urself basing ur entire personality on those around u. a common experience is that when ur favorite person or favorite ppl leave u, u dont know who u r anymore, becuz ur entire sense of self was mirrored from them. its like being a chameleon, but ur constantly mirroring other ppl, and ur nevr rlly ur own person.

4: impulsivity in at least two areas that r potentially self damaging (the examples listed in the DSM-5 include spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, and binge eating, but i will provide moar examples!!!); this does not include suicidal or self mutilating behavior covered in criteria 5.

this ones also pretty simple!!! but personally i find that i become moar impulsive while in a bad headspace, or while im having a bpd episode/suicidal outburst. moar impulsive actions may include property damage, physical fights, running away, cutting contact with ppl, getting in contact with ppl who u know r dangerous, etc. those r all i could think of off the top of my head and they may not be the best examples, srry!!! :(

5: recurrent suicidal behaviors, gestures, threats, or self mutilating behavior.

i would like 2 say that self harm doesnt just mean cutting!!! self harm includes burning, hitting, ripping out hair, picking at skin, stabbing, and many moar. personally ive always been a cutter and i started when i was 9 or 10, but i want every1 2 know that all self harm is valid and this is a safe space 2 discuss it. im not gonna make any1 feel ashamed of it <3 also!!! suicidal threats and gestures may come across as manipulative, but that is almost NEVR our intention. we may act out in suicidal ways becuz its the only thing that gets us any sort of attention or care that we desperately need. i dont give a shit abt "ew theyre threatening suicide 4 attention, lets ignore them" becuz attention is a basic human need, and some1 threatening suicide REGARDLESS of their intentions is always a concern. whether its a call 4 help or not, they need help. dont disregard their mental health becuz their suicidal ideation doesnt present in an "acceptable" manner. all suicidal ideation, IS suicidal ideation. whether its passive, 4 attention, active w a plan, its all valid and requires attention and care.

6: affective instability due 2 a marked reactivity of mood (eg, intense episodic dysphoria, irritability, or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely moar than a few days)

intense mood swings!!! u can feel happy one moment, and then switch 2 being depressed or anxious, and then go back 2 "normal" 10 minutes later. sometimes it just happens 4 no reason!!! absolutely fucking sucks

7: chronic feelings of emptiness.

this one is hard 2 explain and can mean varying things 4 different ppl. 4 me, it means i will never be happy in the long term (maybe with medication, but.. rawdogging life? bad idea) nothing gives me any sort of long term joy and i dont feel like i have a purpose. its like theres a hole in my chest that will nevr be filled. nothing will make me complete.

8: inappropriate, intense anger or difficulty controlling anger (eg, frequent displays of temper, constant anger, or recurrent physical fights)

angy

(also not every1 w bpd gets in2 physical fights or r angry at other ppl often, some ppl r moar angry at themselves)

9: transient, stress related paranoid ideation or severe dissociative symptoms.

paranoia is a symptom of bpd!!! although its shortlived in nature, and as stated above, stress related. dissociative symptoms can also present in a variety of ways!!! u can present with a fractured sense of self which may actually lead 2 u developing headmates iirc, but with them usually appearing as other versions of urself. or u might just dissociate due 2 stress or ur brain wanting 2 remove traumatic memories, 4 me dissociating feels like the whole world is fuzzy and blurry and i cant form any thoughts or emotions. i have dissociative amnesia and experience memory loss when this happens, which sucks becuz i dissociate at least once everyday. my memories r incredibly spotty and unreliable, its liek my brain is made of swiss cheese!!!

personally, i experience all of the symptoms from the diagnostic criteria, and they all effect my life on a daily basis. but that isnt 2 say that u need all of them in order 2 have bpd, as i said b4, u only need at least 5!!! there r also different types of bpd (not medically, theyre labels created by the bpd community) look in2 it if u resonate with some of the symptoms but not all of them!!! a lot of ppl who suspect they have bpd but dont present in a stereotypical way often relate 2 the term "quiet bpd", i recommend looking in2 it!!!

self diagnosis is entirely valid, and most of the ppl who r offended by it r neurotypical or they dont have the disorders that ppl r self diagnosing with. it stems mostly from ableism towards autistic ppl, specifically autistic ppl who self diagnose becuz they know theyre autistic but dont have the resources/time 2 get a diagnosis from a professional. if u believe ur borderline, and u've done ur research, i believe u. self diagnosis is not actually offensive 2 those who have mental disorders, im pretty sure the bpd community is accepting of self diagnosis!!! and if u cant find a community of ppl who r accepting of ur self diagnosis, just know that i believe u and this is a safe space 4 self diagnosis and ppl w bpd :3

bpd is also incredibly hard 2 get diagnosed with. its one of the most stigmatized disorders and often mental health professionals have a bias against it. sometimes, professional diagnosis is not an option 4 us. i knew i had bpd 4 years b4 i was able 2 get diagnosed. good luck!!!!

[prozacwhorehouse]

pacify her (soft brat!tamer cooper x fem!reader)

this is a longer one shot of a headcannon from my cooper headcannons! i am a strong believer in brat!tamer cooper, and the tied up time out just makes sense because…yes.

cooper punishing his baby girl is very important to me nuff said

DNI if you’re a minor or just aren’t into it…nsfw 18+ no smut but mature themes, dword used, restraints, gagging, brat taming, age gap, reader is in early 20s cooper is in 40s

they’re arguing because she’s bored. In the house she stays, locked away all day. she can’t leave - then people would know where she went - she’s been missing for months, and she’s okay with it. she prefers her safe life with cooper to her dark past. but she’s staring to drive herself insane - pacing the same rooms. staring at the same walls. she just wants to go out. then she threatens to leave. you and cooper both know that can’t happen.

“in the bedroom.” he glares, clenching his fist together on the table. shit. she knows she’s in trouble.

she gulps and slowly turns on her heel to make her way over to their room. he watches her leave, letting out a sigh and running his hands through his hair. he comes to terms with the fact that it’s finally time she’s punished. she’s never acted up, never been yelled at. tears prick at her eyes thinking that because she was a bad girl just this once, he’d always see her as one.

she opens her mouth to say something, quickly cut off by cooper. “quiet” he commands. she shuts her mouth instantly. her eyes follow him as he walks over to the dresser, pulling out the top drawer. his back is to her, so she can’t see what he’s getting. her mouth falls open when he turns and reveals two long pieces of rope he begins to unwind.

“please cooper, im so-so sorry,” she sniffles and moves back on the bed towards the headboard as he stalks towards her, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes. he’s never done this before.

“shh. you’ve always been such a good girl. but this is an important lesson for you to learn. im sure after this, you’ll be my good girl again.” She whimpers when he’s hovering over her on the bed, wrapping the rope around her wrists in front of her, finishing it with a nice tight bow. she tries to pull her ankles in to protest a second set of restraints, but he quickly grabs and pulls her ankles towards him, wrapping the rope around and finishing with another bow. it settles in that he’s not going to show her mercy, but she can at least try to get him to change his mind. she thinks maybe her sobbing will she doesn’t even have to try, she’s crying anyway, she can’t believe she let him down like this. she’s always so good. why’d she have to misbehave?

“honey, you have to be quiet. i don’t want to have to make you,” he says. as messed up as it is, she’s kind of interested. so, she ignores, and continues sobbing.

“please daddy please, ill be a good girl i promise!” she pleads to no avail, causing him to sigh and tsk.

“I tried to warn you, babygirl.” her eyes widen when he reaches in the bedside table and pulls out a ball gag, one she’s never seen before. it’s new, he bought it for this purpose. he knew deep down that someday, living locked away, she’d break, and he’d need to calm her down.

“nonono” she tries to squirm away, bound wrists and ankles making it more difficult. he catches her quickly, and her pleas are suddenly muffled and her eyes squeeze shut as the gag is forced into her mouth, securely buckled behind her head.

“there we go. shhh, baby.” her sobs are muffled now, but her tears continue to flow non stop, which he attempts to wipe away with his thumb as he caresses her cheek. he scans her body, and he can’t help his pants tightening about his crotch when looking at his girl, all tied up and gagged for him. he feels in control, he’s never felt like he’s owned her more.

he’s only used to seeing his victims like this - completely at his mercy. except this time it’s different. his other victims have resentment in their eyes, hers have regret. she lives to please him.

“you just need some quiet time, alone with yourself and your thoughts. ill be back when i think you’ve learned your lesson.” he presses a kiss to her forehead, and she cries one more time, begging him not to go, but it’s inaudible. the lights switch off, and the door closes. she’s alone - she can’t move, see, or speak. she can only choke on her own cries, and wriggle against her bonds. time out is worse than she ever thought it’d be.

after an hour, she stops crying. it’s no bother. he can’t hear her anyway. even if he could, she didn’t want to upset him even further by not keeping quiet like he’d asked.

she’s tired herself out anyway. struggling in her restraints, heavy breathing through her nose in panic, and bawling.

cooper stops by the door and puts an ear to the wood, listening for cries. he doesn’t hear anything, now that she’s calmed down he can go in and talk to her.

when he enters the room, the light coming through the crack in the door spreads onto her frame. she’s facing away from the door now, a sign that she struggled, tried to move off the bed, but no success.

he doesn’t realize she’s fallen asleep. time outs are hard work!

“baby?” he whispers, brushing the hair that’s managed to slip out from under the leather straps out of her face. she rolls over, her eyes flutter open, and she pinches her eyes shut at the sudden bright light. she lost track of how long she was in the dark.

“do you understand why i put you in here? why you had such a long time out?” he says softly, with a hand on her shoulder.

she nods her head softly, looking up at him with doe eyes through her lashes. she looks so perfect like this- part of cooper wants to keep her like this. she’d be his forever.

he unbuckles the straps from around her head, she gags when the ball is pulled from her mouth. “there we go baby. it’s okay.” he rubs circles on her lower back before moving to untie her.

“do you still love me?” She finally speaks up, looking at him like a lost puppy, eyes glassy. his face softens, and he pulls her into his lap so she’s straddling him, her arms around his neck.

“oh, sweet girl. of course i still love you. i did it because i love you. you just need to be a good girl for me, okay? for this to work, i need you to do as i say. okay?” he asks her. she nods, “yes.”

“yes what?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting her to continue her sentence.

“yes daddy,” she says, and he smiles and cups her face to kiss her. “good girl.”

this is so filthy I’m sorry

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; Night terrors; Mild illness; Minor sexual themes; Allusions to abuse; Mention of scars

A/N: I somehow banged this out with a migraine and a horrible bout of depression, so it may receive further editing. If I change anything major, I’ll highlight it and make it known that there is new content. I’m never confident about my work but even less so this time. This slow-burn is really burning slow because our two damaged, adorable idiots. But they’re making progress! Thanks for sticking with me anyway. 💙

Carol was able to pull Daryl aside early the following morning. When she stopped just below the top step, she could see you were sound asleep on the mattress, curled in on yourself in a way she hadn’t seen for a while. Her heart ached with the knowledge that your trust in her had been damaged, if not destroyed, by two loathsome snakes. 

Beside you, atop a sleeping bag on the floor, Daryl was awake with one arm behind his head while the other hand was busy twirling a bolt between his fingers. He already knew she was there, that came as no surprise. He held a finger to his lips that moved to make a shooing motion as he quietly got to his still booted feet. Carol descended and waited on the bottom step. 

His hand came to rest on the small of her back to guide her to the main door and outside. No way he’d risk anyone overhearing this conversation. 

“What’s up, Pookie?” She grinned at him when he scowled and grumbled under his breath. Why she insisted on calling him that was beyond him. It didn’t make him uncomfortable. Maybe it had just settled into their own form of banter and he didn’t really mind at all. That’s not why he was here though!

Focus, dumbass. “Need ta talk ‘bout Y/N.” He felt his cheeks begin to warm, finding himself pleading with any deity that it was too early and there was too little light for her to see. 

“So I gathered after that hug I saw.” His gaze snapped up to hers, more surprised than angry. She was immediately holding up her hands to bid him pause. “I wasn’t snooping! I had just come inside and you apparently were so wrapped up— literally —that you didn’t notice me.”

He held his intensity briefly before he deflated. “Th’fuck am I doin’, Carol?” He valued her opinion. She hardly ever steered him wrong, fearing he’d be hurt either emotionally or physically and that was not something she was willing to risk. He knew that. 

“I told you before. I think you like her. Here, sit down.” He huffed a breath through his nose but obliged nonetheless, climbing on top of a table with his boots on the bench. Carol took her place beside him. “I think you’re feeling connected with her somehow. Maybe like you and me.”

“Nah. Well…maybe.” He growled and propped his elbows on his knees, his fingers tugging at his hair in frustration. “I know I want ‘er ta be safe, wanna protect ‘er. Feel responsible fer ‘er.”

“If you’re asking my honest opinion, and I think you are or I wouldn’t be out here right now, I don’t think this is a question of responsibility, Daryl.” He let his left hand drop and tipped his head to face her, fingers of his right hand still in his hair. “You want to be her friend and even though she’s scared, she wants that too.”

The archer opened his mouth, only to snap it shut with a clicking of teeth. He suddenly felt self conscious, worried that his best friend, of all people, would judge him for the explicit thoughts he was having about you. He decided quickly that he wouldn’t divulge that portion of his plight. It made most of the conversation asinine but why did he ever think he could fess up to something so perverse? 

“I don’t think spending a little more time with her would be such a bad thing. If anything, maybe you could help her feel safe again.” Carol looked down at her hands, picking idly at her nails. 

“Ya gon’ try n’ patch things up with ‘er?” Truthfully, he was grateful to take the focus off of himself for even a moment. 

Carol nodded, looking out over the trees at the first light of the morning that began to stretch across the sky. “Yeah, I will. Maybe when she’s in a better headspace.” 

Daryl tipped his chin down in a nod, unable to manage any words of support before the prison door burst open. Maggie called out, most likely for him, but he was already moving at the sound of your screams, passing over the threshold in only a few large strides. He cleared two steps at a time on his way up, no hesitation before kneeling beside the mattress. 

Nightmares were a part of trauma with which he was intimately familiar. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Y/N. Wake up, girl.” He made sure not to touch you. The presence of hands on you when caught between awake and asleep after a night terror would result in nothing good. He knew from experience. Your head rolled back and forth, tears cascading down your temples, your face red from screaming though you had quieted to moans and whimpers. 

“She woke up the whole prison.” Carl muttered from beside Rick on the steps, clearly annoyed. 

Distantly, Judith had begun to wail; several voices were raised. Daryl turned toward the audience gathered in his space, the discontentment in his glare enough to send them scattering to do damage control. Carol stayed behind, her presence acting as an anchor when he seemed to falter. 

He blocked out everything else, his entire focus on you. He usually woke from his nightmares on his own and retreated, but watching you struggle— watching you suffer —wasn’t something he could sit idly by and do nothing to at least try and help you. It was a long shot, but he carefully leaned across to where you laid, as close to your ear as he could get without touching, and whispered so low that Carol could only watch his mouth move. 

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul n’ sings the tune without the words n’ never stops at all.” 

He felt ridiculous once the first word fell from his lips, but when you began to settle, he blinked and watched you for any indication that you would wake or fall back into your terror. You did neither. He was worrying his bottom lip between his teeth when he stood, careful not to disturb the mattress. 

Carol appeared just as surprised. “What’d you say to her?”

It was a reflex to become defensive but the sharp words died on his tongue. Had it been anyone else, surely he wouldn’t have held back. He never meant to be cold or cruel to anyone. It was in his hardwiring, and he had been actively attempting to alter the circuitry since finding a place within the group. 

“Was a, uh…a thing I read once in school. Kinda stuck with me. Ain’t important.” He was scratching the back of his head absentmindedly, more concerned with the flush he knew had assumed residence on his cheeks. 

Carol leaned around him to see you snoring softly. She smirked and patted his cheek, leaving him there to go help with the calamity in the cells. He was chewing his thumbnail seconds after her departure, watching you from the top of the stairs. 

He removed his boots there, afraid the noise would disrupt your newfound peace. A sudden exhaustion settled over him, his sleeping bag feeling like the plushest mattress at the fanciest hotel— not that he knew what that felt like anyway. He assumed it would probably be more of a distraction than a comfort. He’d rather have a cot or the hard ground deep in the wilderness any day. 

Daryl stared at the high ceilings, barely visible in the darkness that had consumed the space without the flashlights and candles of the perturbed residents. Try as he might to focus on the most trivial things, his thoughts continued to circle back to you. 

There was a rustling of fabric and he let his head roll toward the mattress. You had turned toward him, face still relaxed in peaceful slumber. His blue eyes narrowed, the pinched expression he always had when trying to piece something together. Rolling over, he turned his back to you and scrubbed a hand over his face. 

He was beyond fucked. 

Over the span of the next week, you could take apart a gun, clean it, and put it back together. You struggled with remembering the order of reassembling at first but, to your pleasant surprise, Daryl was alarmingly patient. His jaw would tick once in a while, obviously holding back the urge to rush you. You had smiled gratefully, stifling a giggle at his mumbled curse. 

You still hadn’t spoken, aside from the first day in Daryl’s perch. No, not even to him. He didn’t seem to mind but you caught the few times he’d speak and look at you from the corner of his eye, almost like he was hopeful that what he’d said would merit a verbal response. 

Regardless, it was as if your voice had just locked itself away somewhere dark in the fissures scattered across your mind. You were even more damaged, more broken than before. 

When Daryl was leaving to hunt, you tried to follow. It was one of the few times in this new dynamic between the two of you that he seemed to lose the composure he had gradually been building around you. 

“Hell nah! Ain’t takin’ ya out there and babysittin’ ya when ya don’ know shit ‘bout wha’ yer doin’ in here! Get on back inside!” 

You flinched away with your lip quivering. He didn’t apologize. With a growl of annoyance, he yelled for the gate to be opened and stomped into the forest. His demeanor was different when he returned, a few rabbits in hand. After prepping and dropping off his kills with Carol, he approached you and said it was time for you to become familiar with a gun. 

You thought that pointing and firing was the jist of it. You couldn’t have been more wrong. Just like the ‘stab and pull’ at the fence, you would now ‘disassemble and reassemble’. It wasn’t clear to you why learning this step was important but if Daryl was uncompromising in teaching you, then you would learn. 

You worked hard to familiarize yourself with the weapons, scrutinizing each surface, weighing them in your hands, meticulously examining the parts to see how they fit together. You’d catch the archer watching you while he busied himself with other projects; sharpening his knives, carving bolts, tending to his crossbow. There were a few times that you could have sworn you’d seen him smile. 

The man had become a steady presence, allowing you to follow him and learn the more hands-on aspects of protecting the prison. Once you had healed and felt like accompanying him outside, he had trained you for another day with your knife before allowing you to start helping him clear the fences daily. The meals he didn’t skip were spent eating silently beside you, disappearing long before you had finished. He showered daily, sometimes twice. You overheard Maggie and Carol make mention of how they’d never seen him so adamant to remain clean. At the end of the day, sometimes he’d join you in the perch. Other times, you fell asleep alone.

Those nights were when the men that had hurt you would penetrate your dreams, painting them thickly with a suffocating shroud of black and gray. They would corner you, reach out with their filthy fingers like claws, and you’d cower in anticipation of the pain. Always before a single inch of your skin could be marred, a wall erected itself in front of you, protecting you. A warmth would seep from the structure, enveloping you in a safety that forced the darkness from your dreams. You would wake up feeling rested but always still alone. 

Daryl, on the other hand, always looked tired. The days he appeared haggard and sluggish were when his patience flagged. He would raise his voice before he would seemingly think better of it, walk a short distance away for a cigarette, and return with that kindness again present in his exhausted gaze. 

Today was one of those days. 

You hadn’t done anything to set him off, simply cleaning the .22 pistol he’d given you while he sat on the other end of the picnic bench hunched over the table. He didn’t look at you or even check your progress, simply sitting with his elbows on the table and a hand on each side of his head. It was likely better to leave him be, just continue with your task. Attempting to engage him would most certainly lead to nothing good. 

Then he coughed. 

You made quick work of the reassembling, placed the weapon down on the cloth, and folded your hands on your lap, eyeing the archer for several minutes before he noticed no sound coming from your side of the table. Daryl dropped a hand to the flat surface and squinted red-rimmed eyes at you. He was quite pale compared to just that morning when you’d found him outside. He didn’t seem like he was sick very often. Maybe battered, bruised, and bloody but not sick. 

You pursed your lips and slid down the bench, stopping across from him to lean forward with your arms folded on the table. 

“Wha’re ya doin’?” His voice was more raspy than usual, a rougher edge that sounded uncomfortable. Your head tilted even though he seemed less than thrilled to be under your scrutiny. “G’on. Work on the gun.” He rubbed his eyes with a thumb and forefinger, a deep sigh shifting into another cough. Daryl turned his face into his elbow and waved you toward the other side. 

You refused to budge. 

“S’wrong with ya? Got a hearin’ prob—” You could see the moment he caught himself and reined in the hostility. “Jus’ take the day. Ya done good. Work on handlin’ the thing tomorrow.” The hunter didn’t wait for you to move. Probably just assumed you would. With his arms now folded similarly to your own, he laid his forehead on top of them with a groan. 

Your concern only grew when he didn’t sense you were still present. With a deep breath, you slid back over to grab the cloth and gun, tucking the weapon into the waistband of your jeans and the cloth into your back pocket. You would be lying if you didn’t admit to feeling a small amount of anxiety while approaching him. You needed to repeatedly remind yourself that it was Daryl and he would never hurt you. 

When close enough, you placed a hesitant palm against the back of his head. The archer flinched and quickly bolted upright, startling you in the process. 

“Th’fuck, Y/N?” He barked hoarsely. Your smaller hand wrapped around his wrist, fingers loose on the too warm skin in case he pulled away. You motioned for him to follow you with the slightest tug of his arm. He was definitely confused but without knowing what you needed, he followed obediently. Your hand remained around his wrist. 

The gloom inside the prison only made Daryl look worse. He was clearly exhausted and battling what seemed to be a cold. Hopefully nothing more than that. He said nothing as you guided him up the stairs and stepped out of his way upon reaching the top. Brow knitted, he pressed the heel of his left hand against his forehead. 

“Gon’ explain or ‘m I gettin’ three guesses?” His voice strained at the end when he tried and failed to subdue a cough. Ducking your head to catch his eye after the spell, you pointed to the mattress. “Huh?”

You deadpanned. Daryl was anything but dense. He had to be sick if he wasn’t understanding what you were trying to accomplish. You realized that your hand still held his wrist and walked backwards to urge him along, stepping up onto the mattress with what you hoped was an encouraging smile. 

Daryl did not appear to be encouraged. Wide blue eyes vibrated as he attempted to look between your own. “Y/N.” He was gentle when he extricated his arm, stepping backward with a shake of his head. 

It was your turn to be confused. You simply wanted to get him to lie down on the— oh. It started as a giggle but soon you were actually laughing, damn near startling yourself. The befuddled alarm he was wearing so exposedly gradually recast to a warm focus. You placed your palms flat together and positioned the back of a hand against your cheek with a tilt of your head, closing your eyes. 

The archer’s mouth formed a silent ‘o’, his face taking on a pink hue that you definitely noticed before he ducked his head and knelt to pull the laces on his boots. It was possibly the first time you would attach the word adorable to any description of the man in front of you. Daryl was quick to redirect your regard with a finger toward your own boots on the mattress. Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you hopped off, removed the gun from your waistband, and plopped onto the sleeping bag. 

“Yer stayin’?” 

You stared, incredulous. Of course you were staying. He was sick, no matter how mild. He had stayed with you while you recovered. Why wouldn’t you return the favor? You nodded and patted the mattress. 

There was an obvious uncertainty in his approach, movements hesitant, deliberate, as if you would spook and bolt. You wished you could find it in you to speak, to reassure him you were okay and you wanted to stay. 

Your confusion regarding the archer was slowly resolving into a confident trust. You were still plagued with doubt and sometimes overwhelmed with questioning curiosity that would result in a reluctance to be near him. It was that gentle luster that would appear in those pretty eyes, subtle and carefully concealed behind an opacity but easily discernible by someone who had been shown nothing by cold cruelty continually for so long, that would coerce you to stay. There was so much more to Daryl than he allowed the world to see. 

He sighed when he finally allowed the side of his face to sink into the pillow, turning his head to cough into the softness. You’d have to wash it once he was feeling better. Quick work was made to settle the blanket over him before his shoulders had stilled from the minor fit, his eyes appearing heavy when he rolled his head back toward you. 

“Don’ hafta stay.”

Your smile and gentle tilt of your head said where else would I go? Daryl hummed quietly, eyes slipping shut. He was asleep within moments. Maybe his lack of rest was responsible for the cold. As far as you were concerned, he could sleep until he could physically sleep no longer. Maybe you could persuade others to let him rest. 

Your knees pulled to your chest, one arm around them so you could rest your cheek there. The other hand ghosted across the fringe that had fallen over the side of his face. His skin was warm but not enough to frighten you. Maybe you could ask Carol for some tea and broth, if there was any available. You needed to speak with her anyway. Well, not really speak. Regardless, you wanted things to go back to how they were.

Dainty fingers continued to stroke across the archer’s forehead, finding an odd sense of comfort in the ability to touch him without inhibition. His demeanor while in your company was in constant fluctuation but rarely relaxed. He appeared younger in sleep, face slack without creases or pinched skin at the corners of his eyes. 

You wanted now more than ever to find your voice. You wanted to tell him how hard you would try to learn quickly. How dependable you would be once you could take care of yourself. How valuable you’d make sure you would become. You wanted to thank him. Others in the prison had done so much for you, but none more than Daryl. 

Daryl was the reason you were no longer under Big Jazz’s thumb. He was the reason you were there at the prison at all. He was training you to protect yourself and to protect others. He made you feel safe. Even with the sporadic apprehension, there was the constant blanket of safety when Daryl was near. If he hadn’t looked for you that day not too long ago… You pulled your knees impossibly closer to your body, a dull ache inside at the reminder. 

Daryl coughed beside you but didn’t wake, even with your fingers now carding through his hair. In the quietness of the moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate how handsome the archer actually was. You had seen the first day, when he had bargained for you. Rugged, rough around the edges, but handsome. For the first time in a very, very long time, you pondered intimacy that didn’t involve subjugation and pain. You wondered how it would have felt if Daryl had taken your offer that first night. Would he have been gentle? Would he have tasted you? 

Those potentially pleasant thoughts couldn’t last once your mind pulled forth the images of him under the spray of water in the showers. Regardless of your name groaned from his lips, you could only see the raised ridges and puckered flesh littered across his back. What had he been through? Had it happened after the fall of the world? Who had hurt him and why? Carol had told you nothing and it was not something you felt you could ever ask him about. It wasn’t your business. 

Still… the thought of someone hurting him, it made you feel something you weren’t sure you remembered how to feel. 

Anger. 

You had spent so much time being conditioned to submit, remain quiet, please, you had forgotten the burn of bitter hostility toward another person. Someone you didn’t even know. You were more than justified in your hatred of the men that had taken you, tortured and defiled and humiliated you. Justified but felt so strange. Finding resentment toward an unknown person for a wrong against a man you barely knew was stranger still. 

Yet, that’s exactly what it was. You wouldn’t hesitate a single second to drive your knife home into their skull, living or dead. You’d stab them over and over, one for each raised mark on Daryl’s flesh. 

A sound from downstairs startled you from your thoughts, a simple day to day chore of some sort that was not meant to raise alarm. Still, it frightened you. Most things did, but it was getting easier to control your reactions. You realized moments later that your face was damp, the hand hovering just over Daryl’s forehead was trembling. More than that, you suddenly felt drained with an exhaustion that left you dizzy. 

Needed nowhere around the prison— your only focus meant to be training with Daryl —you decided it wouldn’t be frowned upon if you were to rest while the archer did. Most knew that wherever he was, he would be instructing you, and would only seek him in the event of an emergency. In that case, the hunter would want to be disturbed. 

Sliding down the sleeping bag, you reclined onto your side and faced Daryl, worrying your lips against one another before you reached onto the mattress and placed your palm on this forearm. He didn’t stir but inhaled deeply, seemingly settling deeper into slumber. The contact was comforting and hopefully a level of noninvasive that he wouldn’t mind. Either way, it was enough to allow you to easily follow him into a restful, dreamless sleep. 

** What Daryl whispers to reader is an excerpt from “Hope is the Thing with Feathers” by Emily Dickinson

Taglist:

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[raffe156]

Spoils of War

Pairing: John Price x f!reader (Tank) OC

Warnings: Smut/nsfw, 18+, unprotected sex, mentions of violence, Possessive Price, Dom!Price, rough sex, age gap in my head Price is 41, fluff at the end

Summary: You make Price jealous, end of hahaha 

A/N: Thanks for so many likes and reblogs on my last post! Possessive Price has got me in a hold and I really like this MC and Price dynamic, got more ideas and wips for them :)    @yeyinde and @irnbru32​ this one's for you two!

Please as always comments and feedback welcome 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Call of duty characters - Only Tank

3:00am 

You glanced at the alarm clock on the small side table. You knew you needed to get up, but Price had you trapped under his arm you were tucked right into him. His soft snoring in your ear. You traced a scar on his forearm the hair had not quite grown back. The man was like a space heater, you could feel it coming off his bare chest. You were just in his T-shirt but you could feel yourself sweating. The Ac unit had broken days ago on the Los Vaqueros Base, you had asked Alejandro to fix it god knows how many times only for him to respond with “Maybe you shouldn’t be wearing so many layers querida” followed by Rudy apologising for his Captain.

You tried to turn yourself in the small cot so you could put your foot on the floor, but Price gripped you tighter to him.

“Not trying to do a smash and dash are you love?” - The sleep was thick in Prices voice. You turned your face back to him.

“Yeh your my 1am booty call John…I’ve got Ghost pencilled in for 3:30…” - You laughed, but you noticed the change in his body.

“Oh I'm joking John…I need to make sure Im at least back on my side of the base before everyone wakes up…can't be seen doing the walk of shame back from my Captain's room can I? knickers in my pocket…speaking of which can I have them back please…their on your desk” - You sat up on your elbows. Price looks over at his desk your black underwear draped over his desk lamp.

“No…Keeping them thanks…spoils of war and all that lot” - He mirrored your body sitting up on his elbows a smirk on his face.

“Spoils of war?…John you can't keep my knickers…I'll take your boonie hat then...I think I'd suit it” - You got up moving over to the desk to swipe your underwear and his beloved hat his top just covering your arse. Your weren’t fast enough he was up and already at the desk your underwear in his fist, he gave your arse a slap for good measure.

“Now now…got to be quicker than that love, even half asleep you can't beat me” - He was feeling cocky now. He eyed you up and down god did you look good in his T-shirts. He leant back against the desk you could see the outline of him in his boxers, fuck he was handsome. You slinked over wrapping your arms around his neck hugging your own elbows noses pressed together.

“It’s ok you keep them…ill ask Simon if I can have my lace ones back…” - you sighed leaving the whisper of a kiss on his cheek. You pulled away feeling pretty smug with yourself.

Why was he feeling like this? He knew you were joking, but the image of Ghost with his hand on you…you clawing at him while he’s buried deep in you. Him hearing the soft sobs as you cum saying his name…his tongue all over you…Price felt like his blood had turned to acid and it was boiling through his muscle into his bones.

“Have you seen my pants…cause your not keeping them as well…” - You looked over at Price, he looked like a storm cloud.

“what’s the matter? You know I'm joking don't you?” - you walked back over to him cupping his face. Your eyes were pleading with him. You and your big mouth. Price didn’t say a word instead he started kissing you, but it was all teeth, biting greedy, rough.

“Mhmmm….slow down John…”- You tried to pull away but he had you locked in his arms, he moved down to your neck, biting and sucking at it so it left marks. He wanted to mark you as his.

“John don’t, your going to leave marks and I'm not wearing a neck gaiter for the next few days in this heat…ahhh!” - he had bit your shoulder.

“Call me John one more time I dare you…I'm your Captain and I think you need reminding of that” You could feel him on your thigh he was hard, and you couldn’t lie it was making you wet.

“Yes Sir….Captain” - Your heart was racing.

“That’s better…on your knees” - He said pulling his cock out of his boxers, the tip already leaking, you did as you were told.

“Open your mouth…tongue out” Price could see you squirming on your knees. He was going to enjoy this he thought as he slapped his cock off your waiting tongue. You wrapped your mouth around him softly licking the underside of his head. You looked up at him as he slid further down your throat.

“That’s a good girl…” - His hand snaking up into your hair.Price growled as you took him as deep as you could, He was moving your head for you, he hit the back of your throat causing tears to well up in your eyes, he wiped them away with his thumb and pulled out leaving you drooling and gasping for breath but it was short lived as he thrust himself back down your throat and held you to his base your tongue flat to his balls. You tapped his thighs. Fuck the oxygen was leaving your brain, but you could feel how wet your were.

“Alright, easy now take a breath” - Price pulled your head back, saliva on your chin, he wanted to ruin you. You were trying to steady your breathing, you liked this game and wondered how far you could push your Captain. Price could see the look in your eye you were scheming, well he was going to put a stop to that.

“You have 5 seconds to get on the bed…or I'm using my belt on your arse”- He stepped away from you reaching for his pants to unloop the belt his cock bobbing against his stomach. You didn’t waste any time getting to your feet and crawling on to the bed where you waited for further instructions from your Captain.

“Good girl, 6 seconds, but i'll let you off this once…” - he slapped the belt together. It made you jump but the spring in your stomach said otherwise. Price grabbed your wrists slipping the belt over them pulling it tight. More marks you thought. He raised them above and over your head leading you to lie on your back arms reaching towards the top of the cot, tying the other end to the metal rail headboard. A nervous laugh escaped from your mouth. Price noticed you pull your knees up defensively. He cocked his eyebrow at you not a chance your were hiding now. He bullied his way between your thighs pushing your knees apart leaving your bare. He loved the sight of you spread out for him on display, loved the way you couldn’t help buck your hips up. Loved the way your squirmed under his gaze like it was burning you. He was right his gaze was searing into your skin causing your blood to rush and thunder in your ears. You were begging him with your eyes to brand your skin with his touch.

“Look at you…all laid out for me…or would you prefer Ghost between your legs looking at your wet cunt?” - He was smirking as he traced the inside of your thigh with his rough hand, his thumb grazing over you slit. You were feeling brave and wanted to see how far you could push your luck.

“Ghost would already be eating me out like it was his last meal” - Your grin bit at him you could see it in his eyes. Price knew you didn’t mean it you were trying to get a reaction out of him, but he couldn't help the image that formed in his mind.

“Oh I’m sure he would…in fact I know he would be, any of the men on this base would be I wouldn’t blame them either” - Price lowered his head , you could feel his breath on your sensitive skin an inch away from your throbbing cunt.

“I've seen the way they all look at you…wondering what you sound like when your moan, when your begging for it, how you would feel pressed against them tight and hot…” - Price swipes his tongue flat over your folds, flicking the tip off your clit. He takes a quick glance up at you you face is buried in the crook of your elbow, he can hear your panting the dry heat suffocating you. He’s toying with you but your answer got you what you wanted, you always got what you wanted with your Captain, his face buried in you his beard rough on your inner thighs. It was short lived just as you were wading in, Price removed his mouth and replaced it with the sting of his hand the pain spreading up your body.

“For fuck sake…” - You where reeling at the sudden shift in touch. Price gave you a cruel look as his fingers prodded into your cunt thick and heavy, curling up hitting you just right causing a choked moan to escape, his thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing tight circles. You eyes screwed shut as he applied pressure to your abdomen.

“Fuck…John, please…” - Your pleas cut short as he corrected you with another slap to your pussy.

“What did I say about calling me John?…I'm your fucking Captain…”- Price was enjoying this and he couldn’t help feel sorry for you, but you need to be taught a lesson. He sat back resting your legs over his bare thighs he loved the dirty scowl on your face. He gives you that eye crinkling smile but it's laced with smugness and you wanted to kick it off his face. Before you get a chance to kick out Price lines himself up with your centre, rolling your clit with his tip coating himself with you, it sends sparks up your spine that crackle through your nerves. He slides his T-shirt up your body exposing your hard nipples kissing in-between them, rough, nipping kisses, he sucks a bit too hard on one of them leaving a pink hue that will bloom into a dark purple love bite by the time the sunrises.

“Please…Sir…” - Your begging his cock resting at your entrance you can feel your walls clenching around nothing and your really cant help let out a little sob the frustration getting to you.

“That’s a good girl…see your….learning” - Price rammed his cock in, not giving you the time to adjust around him like he usually does. No his rhythm is heavy and powerful each one you feel him at your cervix, you arch your back while your bitten breasts bounce with every thrust. You cant even choke out a moan, the sound of his hips connecting with your arse and thighs is obscene also his swings are causing the headboard to hit the wall, someone was going to hear you.

“Think Ghost or Soap could fuck you till you couldn’t speak love?…After the other night I bet they have wanked themselves dry at the sight of your naked wet body…but i'm telling you now i'm going to make sure they know how good you get it from me…” - he growls, slamming back into you making your eyes roll back in your head. Your caged under him his arms resting either side of yours, he wants to hear you, he needs to hear you. He starts to bite at your neck, licking it his beard scratches you face. There your on the edge he's dragging your walls with every pull of his hips, its pooling in your stomach your going to snap open. You want him to snap you open.

“OH FUCK!…” - You cum, your legs shaking around him its loud, but you don't care.

“Feels to fuckin good love, your so fucking tight, want me to fill you up…” - Price can feel your walls tightening around him pushing him into his own realise.

“YEs…Plea…Fuck me…i want your cum in me Captain!” - You sob the words out, desperate. Price is drunk on the sounds your making as he fucks you rough and hard, the sounds filling the small room, he groans loudly as he cums inside you, panting your name.

He falls to the side of you his cock still twitching inside you, he presses his forehead to your temple. You both try to catch your breath. Price reached up to unbuckle the belt from your wrists, the skin scorched from the rough fabric. He made a mental note to kiss them better later.

“So does this mean I can have my knickers back?” - Your voice is wrecked and dry as you turn your face into him.

“No and dont ask again” - He chuckled lifting his head up to kiss you softly this time. Priced wrapped his arm around you tightly. You were back in the same position as when you woke up you glanced over at the alarm clock 3:35am

“Shit i'm late to meet Ghost…” - You laughed ringed around the room. Price looked at you like your were deranged a smirk creeping at his mouth.

“Really woman? Your going to be the death of me?” - He nudged you back into him, You laughed.

“No really John…I need to get up…In 10mins everyone is going to be gearing up for the brief with Laswell and I don't want to be scurrying back to my room with the best part of you running down my leg thanks” - You tried to push your way up, but he was stronger despite being nearly half asleep again.

“John…really…let me up” - You really were struggling now. Price wasn’t budging he wanted you to stay there with him in your own little bubble, because once you left this room you both had to resume your roles, him making sure you didn’t get yourself killed, you barking back at him for doubting you.

He made another mental note to ask you when this was all over out on a date, dinner and drinks, but for now he was happy like this in your little bubble.

“shhhh shhh…love just give me 5 more minutes” - He felt the lull of sleep pulling at him, his mind showing him the life you both could have together, he could hear you laughing, sing song voice as you danced around the kitchen belly round with his baby glowing and beautiful, two more running at him hands open and sticky. He wanted that and he was going to do everything he could to get it.

[galamalion]

┈ ✧.* 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

┈ ✧.* summary﹕after a group breakfast, you attend your totally boring not-at-all-cool college classes and end your night on a particularly high note.

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ pairing﹕one piece x fem!reader

┈ ✧.* chapters﹕[i] [ii] [iii] [iv]

╰┈➤ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ w/c﹕3.6k

┈ ✧.* chapter iv﹕breakfast, books, and bedtimes

“Wakey-wakey, sleepyhead…” a feminine voice whispered from above.

You twitched at the sudden interruption to your sleep, blinking your eyes open once, then twice, and then snapping them fully shut before tucking under your blankets and turning the other direction.

“No…” you groaned, pressing your face into the pillow. “Five more minutes…”

“This isn’t a TV show, get up!” a different voice barked, yanking your blankets off.

Jumping up, sleep still plaguing your body, you lunged towards the blanket-thief, attempting to take your blanket back from their thieving hands.

“Give it back,” you whined, unable to pull it away from her.

“Nope! It’s time for class, no more sleeping!” she cooed.

You sat back in your bed, watching the figure as you slowly began to focus on objects, realizing it was Nami you were fighting.

“God damnit, Nami!” you hissed, stretching your tired body.

“I’m sorry,” Vivi pleaded, looking incredibly guilty. “Nami told me that we could wake you up, I didn’t know you would be so…unreceptive to the idea.”

“It’s fine, Vivi. I guess it’s good that I’m awake now. Do we have plans or something this morning?” you said, sluggishly getting out of bed and walking to your closet.

“Just breakfast,” Nami replied, sitting down on Vivi’s bed.

“With the boys?”

“With the boys,” she said, checking her phone. “They should be there already, want us to wait?”

“Nah.” You grabbed your shower-bag, towel, and fresh pair of clothes. “I’ll shower and be down in a little bit.”

“You sure?” Vivi asked, watching you walk into the small bathroom.

“Yeah, go ahead,” you called from inside, “I’m not leaving this room till I’m clean, you get me?”

“For sure,” you heard Nami sigh in understanding, “well, we’ll see you in a bit, ‘kay?”

“Got it!” You heard the door open and then shut, proceeding to then turn on the shower and hop in.

Once you finished and dried off, you changed into your clean clothes. After carefully brushing your wet hair, you quickly washed your face and headed out towards the dining hall. On your way there you checked your phone for the time, noticing a couple different texts from about half an hour ago.

| Straw Hat: Want brekfast with us? | Straw Hat: Hello | Straw Hat: Hello | Straw Hat: Hello | Straw Hat: Hello | Straw Hat: Hello

Oh, shit. Maybe this is why Vivi and Nami woke you up. You continued scrolling through your phone, seeing another text.

| Zoro: hey i took luffys phone away | Zoro: idk if youre awake so ill text nami  | Zoro: see you soon | Zoro: maybe Read 9:31 AM | You: yea shit my bad i was asleep | You: be up there soon!! | You: tell luffy that i’m nervous he’ll think i’m dead lol Read 9:32 AM | Zoro: lol

It took another minute of walking before you reached the dining hall, climbing the small flight of stairs to reach the top. Your appearance was immediately noted by your table of friends as you spotted Luffy waving excitedly at your entrance. Before he could scream your name—or whatever he planned on yelling—his mouth was quickly covered by Usopp who was then assisted by Sanji in dragging him back down to his chair.

You quickly grabbed a tray of food and made your way over to the table, sitting next to Vivi.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty!” Sanji cooed, giving you a teasing finger wave.

“She’s not a fairy tale character, you half-rate cook,” Zoro scoffed.

“The hell’s that supposed to mean, huh?” Sanji hissed, easily enraged by the words of his nemesis. “You tellin’ me she doesn’t look like a princess? What kind of gentlemen do you think you are?”

“I didn’t say she was ugly, I just think she’s not defined by the time she wakes up,” Zoro retorted, finishing his third bowl of rice.

“It’s alright, Zoro,” you reassured, “I mean, doesn’t every girl dream of being a princess? It’s kind of nice to hear it, I guess.”

“Not me!” Nami cheerily answered, peeling away at an orange. “I wanted to be rich, like that Rumplestiltskin guy!”

Sanji swooned, “I’ll be your Rumplestiltskin, my orange blossom!”

“I said I wanna be him, not owe anyone favors,” she scoffed. “But if you’re offering to spin straw into gold for me, go ahead!”

You listened into their three-way conversation for a little longer before turning to Vivi in hopes of a less fiery conversation.

“So, Vi, what classes have you got today?” you asked politely.

Vivi looked excited as she began her explanation, “Well, I have a civics class in about an hour, and then I’ll have a philosophy class after that, and then an economy class…I think that wraps up my day!”

“Wow, pretty wide area of studies,” you remarked. “You’re a political science major, right?”

“Yep!” Vivi clasped her hands together. “It’s good to have an open mind in this field, so I’m trying to gain more perspectives while studying here, so I think these kinds of classes suit me best.”

“Luffy could take a page out of your book,” you sighed.

“What? I don’t need any books! I already have mine!” Luffy hollered from across the table, mouth stuffed with meat. It was a miracle you could even tell what he was saying.

“Nothing, Luffy!” you called back, hoping the food flying from Luffy’s mouth wouldn’t land on anyone nearby.

Vivi politely cleared her throat, “What kind of classes do you have today?”

“Ugh,” you groaned, slouching in your seat.

“Well, that doesn’t appear to be a good sign,” Vivi observed.

“I just don’t want to go to chemistry,” you made a quick vomiting gesture. “I have two psychology classes after that, but I’d rather go to those first and chemistry last, ya feel me?”

Vivi nodded astutely, “Yes, but if you have chemistry now, then you can end your day off on a high note!”

“Always seeing the glass half-full, huh?” you asked, smiling at her enthusiasm.

“I certainly try to. I think it helps me view the world more brightly.”

“Not a bad reason to,” you sighed.

The eight of you ate breakfast together, constantly switching conversations as you all learned new bits and pieces from one another. Sanji was studying culinary arts, Usopp was studying engineering, Vivi had a personal butler back home, and Zoro grew up in a dojo. All in all, your friends' lives were far more interesting than your own. Growing up in a well-maintained orphanage didn’t do much for character growth, after all.

“Well,” you stood up, “my class is starting soon, so I should head out now,”

“Ah, leaving so soon, just like last time!” Sanji cried. “I’ll miss you, my sweet princess!”

“Have fun,” Zoro murmured, drinking from a flask of booze.

“Where the hell’d you get that?!” Usopp gaped.

You decided to make your exit before the situation got out of hand.

“I hate chemistry,” you groaned, trekking over to the science building.

It wasn’t that chemistry was particularly��hard, but it was a lot of work. Concepts could be explained, equations could be understood, and values could be memorized. But it was just so damn boring at times. Sitting still during lecture was insufferable, but you could keep up for a little bit, at least until the next new thing was introduced. Then you’d be lost. But that’s what office hours and tutors were for, you supposed.

You climbed the stairs up to your class, dreading the pit of boredom that awaited you within. Reaching the classroom, you carefully turned the handle and stepped inside. Immediately upon entering, you immediately noticed a familiar face.

Sitting at a lone table off to the side was your lab assistant, Law, if you remembered correctly. Was he really assisting two chemistry classes? What kind of psychotic lunatic would subject themselves to that kind of pain?

His mental state wasn’t something you particularly cared about, especially considering your somewhat embarrassing encounter with him. You decided to just claim a seat and ignore him until further notice, most likely until you needed help with something.

The class itself was cut and dry; Avogrado’s number is important and we’re all made of molecules. Once the lesson was over and the hour was up, you began to pack up your things, particularly slower than your fellow students, who were racing to exit the building.

Once you had your laptop (and pens, pencils, notebook, and calculator) all stored within your bag, you stood from your chair to leave.

“Last one to leave again, huh?” Law’s voice rang out as he stood from his table.

You took a deep breath in, “I guess so, yeah. Last one to wake up, last one to leave.”

“Bad habits can be hard to break,” he advised, walking to the door.

“And that’s why we have alarm clocks,” you muttered, following behind him.

Law snickered at your comment, “That’s what I thought when I was a freshman. They’re pretty effective until you pull three all-nighters in a row.”

“Well, I guess I won’t be pulling any all-nighters, then,” you asserted. “I’ll just have to study before I have a test.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” he smirked, turning into a different hallway than you, leaving you behind.

“Maybe I will,” you murmured to yourself, walking out of the building.

You strolled through campus, intent on heading back to your dorm and studying a little, maybe getting lunch with Vi and Nami later.

“____!” a voice shrilled from across your path.

Turning to your left, you saw Usopp and Zoro making their way towards you, the former waving.

“Hey, ____,” Usopp began, “me and Zoro were gonna go to the library and study, wanna come?” 

You thought for a moment, “Yeah sure, sounds like fun. I’ve got some work I need to finish up on.”

“Sweet!” Usopp cheered, charging towards the direction of the library. “Follow me, Usoppites!”

You and Zoro gave each other a knowing before the latter shrugged his shoulders, stomping after the young man.

The three of you gathered together at a table, pulling up chairs and setting your notebooks and laptops up on top.

“So,” you began, opening up your computer, “anyone have exciting stories from their first week?”

“It’s only Tuesday,” Zoro groaned, rubbing his forehead and leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes, “That doesn’t mean cool stuff can’t have happened, mossy .”

“Only annoying if it’s from Sanji,” he scoffed, crossing his arms with a tiny smirk on his face. What, was it the curly eyebrows that ruined the name for him?

“I have a story, kind of,” Usopp interjected sheepishly. “It’s about a guy in one of my engineering classes…”

“Well, spit it out,” Zoro grunted.

“Look who’s interested now,” you teased, poking him in the shoulder.

“Never said I wasn’t,” he fired back.

Usopp cleared his throat, “Well, there’s a huge guy in my mechanical engineering class, and I mean massive guy. Everything about him his huge—shoulders, thighs, calves, neck,”

“Dick?” Zoro chuckled, earning a playful shove from you.

“I can only assume so,” Usopp answered honestly. “But anyways, I don’t know why he’s in the class, he’s a junior .”

‘I know a thing or two about juniors,’ you thought to yourself, flipping through your notebook.

“I’ve heard some rumors from other students. A few say that the school’s making him retake the class because he beat up the teacher, but I’ve also heard that he beat up his entire class,” Usopp whispered, looking around as if the student would appear behind him. “But most importantly, people have said that he’s a G-A-N-G leader!”

You and Zoro shared a brief look before turning to Usopp.

“I know that Grand Line isn’t exactly known for its prim and properness, Usopp,” you reasoned, “however, if this guy really beat the shit out of his teacher or class or whatever he did, the school would probably expel him, not make him retake the class.”

“____ has a point,” Zoro yawned, “but there’s probably a reason he has those rumors around him. I’d keep an eye out.”

“No problemo!” Usopp straightened his papers, “I’m keeping a close eye on him, just in case he tries something dastardly. I won’t end up like my predecessors!”

All you could do was hesitantly accept Usopp’s resolution, slightly fearing for his safety if he were to be caught.

“Am I really the only one with a problem student in my classes?” Usopp grumbled, “I thought bad boys would be more widespread at Grand Line…”

“Well, I don’t have a problem student per se,” you lightly coughed, “but I have an assistant in two of my classes, and I think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

Zoro quirked an eyebrow, “You think he’s gonna fail you or somethin’?”

“Well, no,” you admitted, “I just think he’s gonna be a pain in my ass.”

“Repeating what you said doesn’t make your meaning any clearer…” Usopp pointed out, chewing on the back of his pencil.

“Ok, well, it doesn’t matter,” you sighed, glaring down at your papers.

“I have a class with Luffy,” Zoro said coolly.

“What makes you think he counts as a bad boy?!” you and Usopp snarled.

After your little discussion, the three of you began working separately on your assignments. You focused on studying in advance of your next chemistry class, hoping to prove Law wrong in his assumptions. By keeping ahead of your work, you could easily sleep in far longer than intended. At least until you had a morning class. But you could worry about that next semester, or whenever the universe decided to sprinkle a little misfortune in your idealistic college experience. Damned universe.

The silence persisted for an hour, only interrupted by an occasional cough or hurried knee-bouncing beneath the table. Your phone was the first real disturbance, buzzing on the table and causing a light shiver to course through it. You hurriedly removed it and checked to see what caused the notification, spotting a text from Nami.

| Nami: hiiiiiiiii Read 6:53 PM | You: hey namiiiiiiiiiiiii | Nami: hey | Nami: so vi was wondering if u wanted to have a slumber party? | Nami: idk if u have anything going on rn but that’s on the table if u wanna join! | You: omg i’d love to | You: need me to bring anything up to the dorm? | Nami: no lol | Nami: vi already brought everything and is currently decorating the room | Nami: Attachment (1) Image

You looked at Nami’s picture, seeing a selfie of her sitting in the middle of a small tile floor, a sink and shower in the background.

| You: why are you in the bathroom? | Nami: i’ve been exiled while vi sets everything up | Nami: i’ll see if she can guide me out into the hallway so i can wait with u | You: ok i’ll be over soon | Nami: ♡

“Alright guys,” you breathed, standing up and gathering your things. “I have been cordially invited to attend a slumber party and must take my leave.”

“Will you be okay walking back alone?” Usopp asked.

You swung your bag over your shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll call you guys if I need anything.”

“Stay safe,” Zoro muttered, hunched over a stack of papers.

“Yeah, good luck with all that,” you laughed quietly, leaving the library.

“Nami?” you called out, stepping into the hallway of your dorm floor.

“Right here!” Nami’s voice echoed back, spotting you and offering a small wave.

She was sitting up against the wall right next to your dorm room’s door and wearing her pajamas, peeling a small tangerine with her left hand and scrolling on her phone with her right.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she groaned, pointing to a pile of tangerine peels, “I’ve been bored out of my mind waiting for Vi to finish setting up.”

“I assume a picturesque site awaits us behind the door,” you joked, sliding down beside her.

“Ugh, you and your big fancy-pants lingo,” she pouted, popping a tangerine slice into her mouth.

“What, is picturesque too big a word for your shiny golden brain?” you teased. “I’ll rephrase—It’s gonna be real purty in that room! How’d I do?”

Nami jabbed you with her elbow, earning a yelp from you.

“I’ll have you know, Little Miss Knows-a-Lot, that I won my elementary school’s spelling bee when I was—”

Before Nami could finish her retort, the door beside her flew open, revealing a very chipper Vivi dressed in her matching silk pajamas, holding another matching pair and a blindfold.

“Oh, good afternoon, ____! Thank you very much for agreeing to attend my slumber party. I have prepared a pair of pajamas for you to wear, but you’ll have to put on this blindfold to go get changed, I do not want my surprise ruined!”

You nodded, giving Nami a salute before allowing Vivi to lead you blindfolded into the bathroom to get changed. And, after changing, you patiently waited for Vivi to give you the go ahead to leave.

“You done yet, Vi?” you tapped on the bathroom door while reading the labels on everyone's skin care products.

“Almost, I promise!” she hollered back, “I just need to put on the finishing touches to make sure nothing falls down!”

“Falls down?” Nami shouted through the door. “Just what are you doing to our room?”

“Nothing permanent!” Vivi sang, clearly rushing back and forth in the room judging by her voice.

“I’ve had to start reading the backs of shampoo bottles now, Vi! If I run out of labels to read I think I’ll die,” you pleaded.

“Hey, be careful touching my stuff! Break it and you pay for it!” Nami barked, knocking viciously on her door.

“How am I gonna break a shampoo bottle?” you scoffed, placing it back down and reciprocating her violent knocks.

Just as you were about to send another knock Nami’s way, the bathroom door flew open, causing you to stumble forward and onto the floor.

“Oops! I’m so sorry!” Vivi cried, helping you up and opening the door to the dorm.

“Well, let’s see this awesome slumber party room…” Nami started, the words quickly dying on her tongue as she took in the room.

Beautiful was too dull a word to describe how absolutely stunning the room was. The blankets had been rearranged to form a tent structure between the two beds, using a tall stick that had come from who knows where with a base that allowed it to remain firmly planted without fear of toppling over. Little fairy lights decorated the ceiling of the fort, both large and tiny pillows decorated the sides of the fort, and soft, fluffy blankets were scattered about for snuggling purposes. Snacks were stacked within the fort along the bed frames, easily within reach of anyone who wanted anything, bowls sitting underneath a bed. On the other side of the fort was Vivi’s laptop with about fifteen tabs of different streaming services open for your viewing pleasure during this slumber party. 

Nami gaped at the sight, “Vi, it’s…” 

“...Picturesque?” you breathed, staring in amazement.

“Welcome!” Vivi clasped her hands in excitement before spreading them out, “to my very first slumber party!”

tag list: @sylum , @dimplewonie

[alastors-left-lapel]

We've Found Ourselves In Quite A Situation Pt. 2

Author's Cut: I didn't think i would do a part 2, but here you go. I will be writing a part 3 to the series. If you have anything to add or suggest, please feel free to message me so.

The following story contains Trigger Warnings: It's hell so there are mentions of demons, all characters mentioned are in Hell for a reason, mental trauma, anxiety, violence (mention of a single punch), blood kink, all fluff no smut (yet)

Plot: AFAB Fox!Reader from part 1 is dealing with the minor fall out from her previous one on one with Alastor. He reflects on their encounters in the past and comes to a realization he may think of her differently, and she of him. Is it worth risking their friendship to find out?

Word Count: 5K +

Part 1

It had been nearly a week since Alastor and Y/n encountered at The Butcher's Room. Nearly a week had passed, and y/n couldn't believe she had given Alastor information about her Earthly situation. However, she still had a little bit of power over his questions about her as she hadn't told him the details of what exactly she had done to be sent to Hell. With each passing day, she grew more anxious, knowing sooner or later he would find out. Most sinners were never afraid to say what they did that landed them in the realm of Hell. Murders walked around proudly, thieves either thrived or perished quickly. Any ill-willed predators were quickly hunted for sport as they were not the type of people others wished to live their eternity with.<p>

All Y/n could do was continue with business as scheduled at the hotel. She steadily cleaned her desk before going on her break. She had been looking forward to refreshing her tea and to having thirty minutes to sit in one of the library sitting rooms that were often empty. Nifty was quick on Y/n's tail, following behind the much taller sinner with her sewing needle in hand. "Whatcha doing, Y/n? Going somewhere fun? Does it have bad boys?! I love bad boys."

The woman laughed looking down at Nifty, gently shaking her head. "Not today, Nifty. I'm just going somewhere quiet for a few minutes to drink my tea."

Nifty huffed, mumbling about it not sounding like fun before turning back around and heading toward the main lobby where Husk had been talking with Vaggie and Charlie. The woman continued her way toward the staircase, silently passing by Angel. She still hadn't spoken to him in a week after their prior discussion. It wasn't necessarily out of spite, but she hadn't been sure how to react to him calling her a nickname based on her death. He was either put off by her presence or was genuinely a good actor as he also ignored her, diverting his eyes away from her and scrunching his nose. Her face remained the same, with no change in any facial features. Yet, Angel acted as if he was disgusted by her presence. She turned around to look at the lobby once she was at the top of the staircase, watching how blissfully everyone had been acting, despite residing in Hell.

Maybe they were better without her at the hotel. It wasn't like she had any intentions of redeeming herself, having found comfort in her second life as a sinner in Hell. She had friends here who actually cared about her, like Rosie. Nifty was like a little sister to her but was still someone she could rely on if she needed to. But did the others even need her around here?

Exhaling the breath that was hitched in her throat, she continued on her small journey to the sitting room, planning on resting for a few minutes. It was a calming thought to have, a wishful one even. Yet, the afterlife often had other plans. As she walked into the sitting room, a shadow cast an eerie feeling as the familiar form of Alastor was found sitting on one end of the couch. She jumped a little, gripping her mug as the tea threatened to spill over. "Alastor! Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt." her hand gripped the door handle as she attempted to leave.

"Oh, don't be modest. There's plenty of space here to share a quiet place with good company." His voice beckoned for her, a slight hum of radio static could be heard toward the end of his sentence. His microphone cane had been rested on the coffee table in front of the couch, his hands neatly folded in his lap with his legs crossed. He looked almost as if he was expecting company as if he had anticipated the room to be used.

Resigning to her original plan, she walked through the door, shutting it behind her as her blackened fingertips lingered on the door knob. It was a residual body feature from her death, along with the faint lines of black on her lips. The only light being emitted in the library was from the fireplace, and as Y/n passed from the door to the chair facing opposite Alastor, her eyes shined for a moment as they caught the light from the fire. One eye was considered typical, as most sinners had red scleras, and her pupil was yellow. Her left eye was mostly black with a white to off-grey pupil. If Alastor was asked, he would say she almost had a lightning pattern in her sclera that matched the hue of her pupil. However, that was a little too personal of a question.

Alastor watched as the woman carefully took a seat in the chair, prim and proper as most women of their shared collective time. She ran a hand under her as she sat to make sure her skirt would not crinkle. Her posture was nearly perfect, and not a single hair was out of place. In a way, she almost reminded him of his mother, if only in the little daily habits she exhibited. Thankfully for Alastor, Y/n was nothing more like his mother. She was somebody of true value, beyond what she would have ever imagined. "You look exhausted, my dear. Are you experiencing issues with sleeping? Is your room environment not up to your standards?"

It was rather odd that he had asked her this, she thought to herself. Her face was as puzzled as she was. "No, no. My room is fine. The mattress has been the softest I have slept on, dead or alive." She brought her hands together in her lap, setting her tea down on the coffee table in front of them, careful not to bump his cane.

"Hmm." Alastor crossed his legs as he observed her, a slight hum of radio static filled his audible response. "Your statement seems a little exaggerated, wouldn't you say?"

Is he trying to get a rouse out of me?

No, certainly not. Alastor would know if I was fibbing... wouldn't he?

Y/n took out a deep breath. Would he have known about her troubles here in Hell? Of course, he would, she sold him his soul in exchange for his protection. "Maybe your excellent showcase of pure demonic prowess worked a little too well? There hasn't been a single threat of a turf war or any type of altercation in front of the hotel in a week. Maybe the lack of Carmine weaponry and questionable war crimes has affected one's sleep." She raised an eyebrow as she smirked, then crossed her legs in a duchess slant.

Alastor had always admired her ways of deflecting the situation in the most complimentary of ways. He often remembered the time she had complimented Susan's new fox wrap, asking her from which designer trash can she found it. Oh, how the ornery old bitch was fuming at the back-handed compliment watching as Y/n and Alastor, The Radio Demon, walked down the streets of cannibal town with their middle fingers pointed at her.

"Speaking of Carmine weapons," Alastor spoke, "there is an overlord meeting occurring today. Usually, these things are only meant for Overlords and are top-secret topics of discussion. I could hardly fathom being there myself these days, and Rosie has some business she is taking care of in the Wrath Ring today. Please make this meeting easier for me and attend with me... as an unofficial understudy to Rosie. Or go on the basis of being my note-taker. Whichever makes you happier."

There it was, more time working for Alastor outside of the hotel. What could she do? Say no? Then be reminded he owns her, literally, and has no other option as long as she wishes to live her nefarious second life?

"I am no Rosie, Alastor. I do not possess the amount of charisma or style Rosie exudes. Well, except for the stylish skirt she gifted me on my most recent death day."

Alastor then stood up, swiftly grabbing his cane in the same motion. "Then it's settled. Now, please go change your outfit, and may I suggest wearing something that will allow for plenty of movement? These meetings can sometimes end in battle, and I couldn't let something happen to... you- wearing constrictive clothing can be a rather pain in the ass."

Y/n watched him as he stood, caring for his cane as if were a pet. She didn't want to read into it very much, but she thought she could hear the slightest change in his voice toward the end of his sentence. Why did it sound like that? As if his tone changed, like the comma in a sentence. He didn't say I couldn't let something happen to you.

He said I couldn't let something happen to You.

After an awkwardly longer moment than what it should have been, she grabbed her mug, nodding. "O-okay. I'll be but a few moments." She parted from Alastor in the library, leaving the room and swiftly making her way to her room. Her mind was still pondering his sentence and how different it sounded in her mind. Maybe she had listened in a way that wasn't the targeted audience. Maybe he was torturing her as part of his dealings with owning her soul. Yes, that must be it. He was a little bit of a sadist, so it would make sense that he would value his contract with her over the decades of years they had known each other before she sold her soul to him.

Yet for Alastor, who was still in the library, he was fighting with himself. He normally would care less about the contracts he had with others. He was quick to put his subjects into place by destroying a soul on the air, broadcasting their screams for everyone to hear. Y/n did have quite a tone on her at times, however, he found their banter something to be cherished. He found their conversations refreshing, and having her in the hotel among the residents gave him somebody else he could relate to. His fingertip tapped on his cane a few times as his eyes searched back and forth, wondering where his mind was leading him. He hadn't been necessarily the kindest to her within the last week, making her share her personal life experiences with him in a public place. He could make that up to her.

Yet, he was an Overlord. He didn't have to make anything up to anybody under his control.

But... he wanted to make it up to her.

He wanted to make it up to Y/n, because she deserved it.

-----

About twenty minutes later, Y/n appeared in the lobby. Her new change of clothes and freshened-up appearance caught the eyes of those who were in the commonplace; Husker, Charlie, Vaggie, and Angel Dust. The spider demon had been sitting at the bar, slumped slightly with a drink in his hand. Husker was nursing a bottle himself while Charlie and Vaggie were discussing the plan for the next lesson plans for the residents. Alastor had appeared out of the shadows, quite literally as he manifested a few feet away from Y/n. She had been used to him popping up from time to time so it hadn't caught her off guard when he manifested. "Oh, Al, perfect. I hope this is fine. I've never been to one of these meetings before."

Alastor looked at her, taking in her choice of outfit. A sweater top with a high-waisted skirt that ran down to the middle of her calf. The top was a deep red color, the skirt was black. She chose black oxford high heels and a similar red shade belt. She wore a black pearl necklace as well to round off her outfit. He met her eyes again, smiling his typical toothy smile. "You look like a proper representation of a resident of Cannibal Town."

Y/n hummed in amusement, smiling at Alastor as she adjusted the turtleneck collar. "Lucky enough for us, I still happen to have my apartment above the women's parlor room in Cannibal Town, so I may still claim it as my residence." After making sure her outfit was up to her liking after meeting with Alastor again and looked at him. Others would see his normal smile and relaxed eyes as typical Alastor, yet his eyes were not relaxed. He looked lost in thought, his pupils appearing dilated. "Al? You ready?"

This comment seemed to have pulled him out of his thoughts as he nodded, giving his cane a spin before turning about-face. "Certainly. I suggest we take the express route, seeing as we have maybe ten minutes to find our seats at this meeting." He offered her his arm, always mindful to keep his female companions safe when they were with him. He still felt this time that the offer came from a different sense of feeling.

Y/n carefully placed her hand on the inside of his elbow before he gently brought his hand back to his side. He tapped his cane to the ground once, then used his shadow mastery powers to teleport both him and Y/n to the front of Carmine Industries tower. As they manifested on the sidewalk, Y/n gave a little shake of her tail. Her appearance in Hell had altered much beyond her facial features. Just as Alastor had appeared with a human-like face and normal hands with the ears and antlers of a stag, Y/n had the aspects of a fox. Her ears were almost the same size as Alastor's, mostly matching her hair color and a distinctive off-grey pattern inside of her ears and at the tips. She also had an off-grey long and bushy tail, the tip of it matching her hair color.

Alastor paused as his companion settled after their express departure from the hotel lobby to the outside of the tall skyscraper. Once everything appeared to be settled, he guided them down the side of the building, making sure to flash a distorted smile and image to the cameras as they passed by, all in spite of his former acquaintance. The pair of friends walked up to an elevator, hopping in to go to the meeting. "I am assuming nobody knows about your sudden plus one to this super-private function?"

"Precisely, my dear." He looked over at her, his smile was thin, not showing any teeth. The most relaxed he had been around her recently. "Anything and everything that is mentioned here must remain here. Not a single soul will ever hear these conversations unless they are Overlords."

She looked up at him, arching an eyebrow. "But I'm not an Overlord, remember?"

"You are under my protection here. You must do anything I ask of you here, as I will be your token in. Now, when we enter, remain quiet. Seen, but not heard."

Y/n rolled her eyes. "It was already implied, as it is not my typical scene. However, I thought you would have thought better of me. Did you forget we both had similar upbringings? All children, and all women, should remain seen and not heard."

Alastor looked down at her, pausing for a moment. "It's not that I do think you would speak and interrupt. I know that the other overlords will either speak lowly of you or try to rouse you any way they can once they sense if it bothers you."

Y/n normally wouldn't challenge their friendship or debate her contract with him. However, her free hand moved up to rest on his chest long enough to give it a couple of small pats before she could realize what she was doing. "A wise man once told me a smile was a valuable tool to use in every situation. Something along the lines of keeping one's self in control, I believe."

At that moment, the air shifted around the pair. Alastor could feel something rip inside of his core. Or had it inflated? What was this feeling, and why did it occur in such a normal setting, such a normal situation?

But the situation wasn't normal.

Is this what Rosie described to him when she told him the story of how she fell in love with her first husband? Why did his stomach feel warm and fuzzy?

The pair had locked eyes with each other, and Alastor's hand reached up to cup the hand Y/n had on his chest, catching both of them off guard. Y/n's tail waved back and forth subtly while one of his ears slightly dropped. Alastor opened his mouth to respond to her but was cut off when the elevator stopped on the proper floor. As the doors opened both individuals let go of one another, quickly picking up their facades. Smiles were on, people were ready to be greeted, and the meeting would be the best buffer to their previous encounter.

-----

Alastor led Y/n to the board room, taking his usual spot and gesturing toward the seat next to him for Y/n to sit in. She nodded quickly, taking her sit and getting adjusted as she normally would in any situation. Her hands remained in her lap and crossing her legs. The first person to mention Y/n was Carmilla. She shot a brief look at Alastor. "I wasn't aware you were bringing in unauthorized personnel today, Alastor."

Alastor chuckled. "Oh heavens, no. In Rosie's absence, I wanted to bring in another set of reliable and vigilant ears and eyes, just in case I miss any information from today's meeting."

"I didn't need an explanation. Although, if you say she is reliable and you can attest to her being discreet about the meeting, that's all that matters." She replied as her daughters took their seats next to her.

Alastor nodded simply, falling silent as the meeting started. Carmilla had been tasked with keeping the Overlords up to date on potential threats to Hell from the exorcists and any Overlords who posed seismic threats to the balance of Hell. As she was speaking about the latest numbers of projected soul casualties during the next extermination the door of the board room opened wide. A loud and boisterous voice echoed through the room. "My apologies, there was an issue with the latest VoxTek updates. You know how it is, business as usual and all."

Y/n let out a quiet breath upon seeing Vox in the boardroom. Had Alastor known about this all along? Did Vox have enough backing to even be at the meeting in the first place?

Vox took a seat, inconvertibly across from Y/n. He adjusted his lapels as everyone stared at him. Everyone except Y/n, whose eyes diverted away from Vox and to an empty space in the wall just to his right. Vox's stare was blatantly drilling holes in her soul. Alastor took note of this quickly, being very familiar with their past. He cleared his throat before speaking. "Interesting seeing you here, Vox. I wasn't aware the Vee's had any business in the official business of Hell's Overlords. Certainly, you must obtain a substantial amount of souls to even be considered Overlords."

Vox then looked to Alastor, smirking as he spoke. "Oh, and do tell me, is that number affected if an Overlord obtains those souls through various gambles?"

Alastor furrowed his eyebrows. "Need I remind you of who won those gambles? Or rather who lost those gambles?"

Carmilla was quick to shut down the showdown, continuing with business. Y/n had pointed her chair slightly to the left in Alastor's direction. He was mindful to keep an eye on her and Vox through the use of his shadow companion. The meeting remained mostly boring as the Overlords discussed the topics that consumed their lives. Alastor could have skipped it, but with Rosie out he had no choice but to attend it. As soon as it had been officially over he was quick to guide Y/n out of the boardroom and head towards the elevators.

It was then again that Vox made his presence known. "Now, now, what's the rush Alastor? Afraid you'll miss the next newspaper printing? I can pull it up for you on your phone... Oh, that's right. You don't use modern technologies." His attention was brought back to Y/n, grinning with a thick layer of minacious intent. "Y/n, my once faithful assistant. How many years has it been now? Ten? Do you really have nothing to say to your former boss? I thought we were closer than that."

Y/n remained as stoic as she could, keeping Alastor's words in mind. Vox was excellent at stirring the pot, expertly identifying an individual's breaking point and using it to his advantage. She finally brought herself to look at him since he had arrived, hiding any evidence of her true emotions from everyone in the room, including Alastor. "We both know that you don't get close to your employees. Well, except for the moth and the princess. Where are they, by the way? being lef tin the dark as usual?"

Vox's screen glitched a little at the comment. Alastor chuckled. "Careful Vox, the screen is buffering. You don't want to be caught in the middle of another update, as you so delicately called it earlier."

Vox looked between the two observing them once again. "Oh, and your signal never never goes out, right?"

Alastor's pupils shifted to dials as he spoke. "Unlike some people, I do not need the troubling complexities of modern technology to be entertaining for the public of Hell."

Vox gave a little nod. "Let me guess, none of this has to do with little Miss Sparky over here?"

The other Overlords in the lobby gasped as they watched as the previously quiet woman pulled a hand back, then threw her fist at the televised Overlord. Her hand connected nearly perfectly with Vox's screen and it cracked, leaving a couple of small cuts on her knuckles. Alastor then took a step between both Y/n and Vox as the other man began to grumble. "You will see me again, Y/n, and when you do it will be when you are least expecting it." Vox took a couple of steps back before disappearing into a nearby camera. The other Overlords watched as Alastor tugged Y/n into the next open elevator, then descended.

Y/n shook her head a few times, noticing a small amount of blood running down her hand. "I'm sorry, Alastor. I will make this up to you. I let him get to me, and I should have known better."

Alastor reached out for her injured hand, carefully holding it as he brought it up to his mouth. Without warning, his tongue began to run over his cuts, lathing up the blood that escaped. She looked at him as he cleaned her hand, not sure how she should feel. She wasn't scared, and she wasn't confused. What he had done was generous and kind. Her cheeks began to flush as she felt her tail once again sway.

Alastor felt the job was done, as he straightened up again. He had a little handkerchief in his coat pocket, pulled it out, and placed it on her hand, tying a delicate yet firm knot in her palm before letting her hand go. "No need to apologize. Vox is rather vulgar and doesn't quite understand the rules of society down here. He believes adding the cost of his employee's souls to their contracts makes him evil enough to rise to our level. Besides, the meeting was over, and after the meeting ended, everything was considered free range. However, I am sure Carmilla will mention something about altercations occurring in the lobby."

He looked down at the fox sinner before him, noticing her disposition had changed. "I want this to be clear, I did not know he was coming. Or any of the Vee's. They are not invited to these meetings, yet always find a way to weasel into them. Had I known, I would have never brought you here."

Y/n had originally thought it was another mindless torture tactic, yet hearing the tone of his voice told her all she needed to know. He had been sincere about his unawareness of Vox's presence. She nodded, meeting his eyes. "I know you wouldn't. I'm just sorry you had to see that interaction."

Alastor led them off the elevator once it stopped. "I know, though I should have intervened before the situation came to that rather interesting turn of events. No doubt Vox will brag about this to his cohorts." He once again used his shadow magic to teleport them to the hotel. Specifically to the hallway of Y/n's room. "Do you have any type of technology in your room? Vox could easily navigate to the hotel and drop in for an unwelcomed visit."

The woman shook her head. "No, I don't. The only item in my room is a radio, aside from the furniture of course." She had been happy to be back at the hotel and away from the aftermath she may have caused in Alastor's business ring. Not to mention what Rosie will be told by Alastor or the other Overlords.

The pair had stopped right in front of Y/n's room, the woman spinning around to face Alastor. "Besides the obvious eyesore of the afternoon, I enjoyed it. Oh, and thank you for... cleaning my wound."

Alastor chuckled a little, "It was my pleasure." That it certainly was. He watched as she reached for her doorknob, and against all instincts, he placed his hand over hers, stopping her from opening the door. "Y/n, I-" How to articulate what he had been thinking about during the meeting's entirety. "I've was thinking about what you said in the elevator before the meeting. How a wise man once offered you advice. If this is the same supposed wise man, I believe we have conflicting thoughts about his actions."

Y/n looked at him confused, her smile dropping as she stared up at him. His presence normally brought her a sense of comfort, hardly remembering a time where she wasn't happy around him. Alastor was almost a walking embodiment of a warm hug, feeling like the sense of security a child's blanket brought them. "Al-"

"Please, just let me speak." His demeanor seemed level-headed, though the upbeat tempo of his chest rising and falling brought more concern for Y/n. Her breaths almost mirrored his. "A true friend would never keep another friend's soul on the swift promise of protection, among other stipulations. It brings about room to allow doubt and anxiety to grow."

"Yet, after today, I feel as if our friendship has been thrown into quite a situation." He stuttered for a moment before bringing their hands in front of them, holding her hand firmly in his, then taking his other hand and covering it. "I need to put my theory to the test. If you will allow me."

Y/n could nearly count the inches between her face and Alastor's as he begged her. The inches slowly turned into centimeters as she gave a single nod, his face lowering and moving closer to her.

"I am sorry, my dear. I need to hear your answer."

Y/n's eyes shifted constantly between his eyes and his lips, watching as he paused right before their noses could touch. "Yes... yes," she whispered between them. Alastor tugged on her hand to pull it toward his chest as their lips met, gently mashing with each other. She could feel her cheeks flush again, and he could feel his stomach doing flips. They paused for a moment before meeting each other's lips again, now one of his hands cupping the side of her face as her hand reached up to cup his wrist.

They shared quite an extended moment with each other before pulling their lips away from the other, their noses and foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath. It may have been the most serene moment Alastor has experienced in Hell since his arrival. For Y/n, it was the most blissful she had ever felt in her entire life.

"I think I have my answer." He responded, pulling away from her before letting her hands and face go. He adjusted his jacket, smiling down at Y/n. "I'll leave you to the rest of the day. Don't worry about the hotel duties tomorrow. You deserve a day off."

Without a chance for her to interject, he turned around and took a few steps forward before disappearing again. Y/n was a blushing mess as she opened up her door, closing it softly before slowly walking over to her bed. She wrapped her arms around herself before spinning around and collapsing on the blanket. A sane person would believe they were going to be sick, while Y/n had believed she knew what was going on.

She fell in love with Alastor.

And Alastor chose to have some type of feelings for her.

He chose her, out of all the other souls in Hell, and the ones he knew when he was alive. Why her? Should she be concerned? What would people say if they had seen them in the hallway? Had anybody seen them?

Suddenly everything changed for both of them. Both positive and negative responses would eventually be felt by both of them. What impacts would this have going forward?

Well, Alastor could control at least one aspect left unopened. He had never broken a contract before, and with the recent events at the meeting, it could be deemed he failed to uphold his end of the deal to protect Y/n from any potential threat or harm. It would open up doors that were currently left in the unknown. His impulse on his actions today could be more bothersome than what they were worth.

Though as he appeared in his room on the opposite side fo the hotel, he had a realization.

Y/n was worth the risk.

Y/n was worth learning to get out of his previous comfort zone.

Y/n was worth it.

[tumbleweedsthesecond]

Clone high season three headcanons.I BASED THEM OFF THINGS IRL I SAW AT MY SCHOOL and cause I see them as completely different from s1 I wanted to give the old ones new looks. Sorry about the quality

Abe- abe reminds me of guys at my school that wore shorts every day no matter what the weather was even if it was freezing. That's why I gave him shorts sorry if it looks weird 😭 also slighhht mullet like barely I could kinda see him growing it out a little and gave him more moles. His legs were bugging me so I'm sorry if his hand looks weird that is not on purpose :(

Joan: s3 Joan is completely different to me and she gave me this vibe from girls I knew. Ill draw her redesign more cause in that pose it doesn't show off the movement of her shirt that I imagine in my head because her shirt is kinda crop top. Wanted to compliment her more awkward vibe in s3. The hair just makes sense to me I have an idea of it in my head ill draw more.

Harriet: I like Harriet alot actually but that may be because she adds more plot and I like her. I didn't change her clothing much I know her design isn't that good I know. But this is more hc. I think the pants make sense for her and I changed the green a bit. The hair is because dye can't stay forever and it fades but I tried to give it still a cartoon flare in a way which is why it fades weirdly. Had to get rid of the socks sorry.

Frida: originally had an idea to change the pants to dark green with gold zippers on the pockets on her knees but I was drawing her and my idea of her became clearer. Her pants are supposed to be baggy but its hard to show from that direction I like those pants she's wearing I have some. I thought it'd help skater vibe a bit. Also her lacing on her shoes is the sapphic flag! Sorry I changed her nose so much irl Frida has a different nose to me but I may be nitpicking.

Cleo: Idk how to feel abt how it turned out in my head she wears black shorts. Maybe skirts too obviously. Longer hair cause I hc s3 Cleo has it straightened while I think s1 Cleo had dreads

Jfk: s3 jfk is fun to me I guess. Tried to give him more of a popular 'jock' vibe I knew at my school but I barely changed much. In my head his hair is fluffier. Ill be sure to draw him more too. Probably should've given him different shoes

Confucius: I don't like the color of his horror but decided not to change it. Wanted to give them more a YouTube vibe. I've got to draw this one too because I will get used to the hair. In my head they have longer hair. I hc enby in some wayyyy but is still trying to understand themselves. Like they're just getting used to it, mainly after getting with Joan

Topher: not much to change weirdly he's the character I draw the most. I was thinking abt giving him a different shirt that suits his vibe too but I like his coat. In my head he wears sweatpants I don't know why. His coat is longer in my head and some acne. hope his hair still fits the weird kid vibe. My weird son🙄