Latest Posts by seafoamfelly - Page 3

It's hilarious to me when people complain about AO3 and its policies, and what they allow on the site - but it's ESPECIALLY funny when people complain like "Why can't the freaks make their own site and just go there?"

Sweetie... AO3 is the site for that. Y'all invaded our space.

Wattpad and FFN still exist. Go there. They're as shitty and G-rated as you want. You can't have the luxuries that AO3 offers if you're gonna be a little bitch about its policies. Imagine walking into a strip club and complaining about the alcohol and naked ladies when there's a god damn Dennys next door you could have gone to. Christ.

Little Undead Scenario

To say the storm brewing looked ominous, was an understatement. The pelting drops of rain were foretelling of a disastrous storm the likes you’ve never witnessed. 

You didn’t need more stress while trying to gather yourself. It’s been days since the incident, yet you still can’t shake the horrid visions from your memory. It’s as if it’s still happening, that you’re still trapped and having to wrench away from the psychos grip. 

You were told the damage you did with your knife killed him, but that it was clearly self defense. You were thankful to carry that thing with you, but the item now serves as a haunting reminder. The blood, the gurgling nonsense the man was spewing as blood dribbled down his throat- it makes your skin crawl and your hands grip your hair in terror. 

A thunderous voom shakes the foundation of your home, and you shriek as lightning strikes just out your window, igniting a tree limb that’s quickly extinguished by the downpour. You stare wide eyed out your window for a moment, but a knock on your door reels you back to reality. 

“Coming!” you shout, dashing to the door quickly, wondering who it could be. The poor soul must need help from the flooding roads. 

Opening the door, your face drains of color, eyes unable to believe who’s standing before them. 

“Storm’s getting worse…Can I come in?” 

No. No this can’t be possible! There’s no way! None! The man was killed, buried! You watched him go into the ground! 

“Darling? Why, you look like you’ve seen a ghost!” the used-to-be corpse laughs, pushing the door open more, yet not stepping inside. “May I come in? I’m sure you’re curious! Plus this storm is dreadful, and I would love to warm up with you by the fire”. 

“Y-You died…I stabbed you! I-I watched you die!” You shout in disbelief as you stumble back, landing on your ass as the undead man laughs, but seemingly couldn’t enter the threshold. “Ah, yes, you DID kill me. You got just the right place! But you must not have heard my final words. I don’t blame you, the police can be rather loud and obnoxious when in matters that don’t need their business”. 

Your stomach lurches as the fear and confusion takes over, your mind spinning as the storm rages on, becoming worse as the being simply stands there with a wicked grin. “If i can’t come in today, perhaps tomorrow? Or maybe I’ll swoon you later than that” he sighs, lightning crashing behind him, illuminating his form more. 

His throat had stitches, and his eyes were a dark, demonic red. “I loved how you thrusted that knife into me. It felt so good to be touched by you! Oh but…You were just a bit too rough, weren’t you?” he cackles, his hand coming to cup his cheek as he stares at you, still stuck on the floor. 

“I suppose you’re curious, maybe even thrilled to know how I came to find you again? It’s rather entertaining, I could make some wine, kiss you sweetly, and happily tell you everything. You just have to let me in”. 

“Go to hell!” you scream, scrambling back until you hit the wall, door still wide open as the winds blow and the storm roars on. The maniac just grins, loving how weak and fragile you look. So easy to tear into if he wanted too. Well, he wants to tear into you in more pleasurable ways, more romantic than brutish. 

“Been there, the devil sent me back. Told me he won’t accept a soul with unfinished business”. 

You only swallow thickly, watching as he flashes his red irises “I’m not going anywhere. If it takes a hundred years, or a thousand, I won’t lose you again. It’ll be easier my darling, if you just let me inside”. 

(Dumb little story ignore me -Mommabean)

heye every one.

burn me down to ashes - steve harrington & billy hargrove

plot: shy, socially awkward little you, the resident nobody of Hawkins High, is caught between a rock and a hard place in the span of a day. the rock being Steve Harrington, the guy you've had a crush on forever and who just might like you back, and the hard place being Billy Hargrove--the guy who just can't seem to keep his eyes, or hands, off you.

cws: bullied!angelface, angel has low self-esteem/intrusive thoughts, 80s movie references, crushes, smoking, slight violence/roughousing, jealousy, drinking, angel makes friends, nicknames, angsty fluff but it goes up from here, non-canon character appearances, fem reader.

a/n: vol II coming soon! this is a longer fic i cut in half ♡

word count: 5.4k

You've never really thought there was anything wrong with you, at least not until you got into high school. The last four–five, now, since you had to repeat your last year–have been the most hellish years of your life.

You've been knocked around, had your books thrown in the fountain, your locker vandalized, your desk kicked by people walking by…every which way you could be tortured, you have. Even graduation served to be an opportunity for people to get their licks in, one of the girls that tortured you the most sticking her foot out when you went to walk the stage and tripping you in front of the whole school, resulting in a bellowing chorus of mocking laughter that you're certain you'll hear in your nightmares for the rest of your life.

But there's a life you've dreamed of, one you know you would never attain in this lifetime, but you fantasize about nonetheless. One where you're maybe not popular, or even liked, but one where you're at least protected. His name reads out in the scribbles at the margins of your notebook, and the smell of his cologne sticks in your mind and draws your thoughts to him whenever you pass by the scented section of the department store. Your protector, your saviour, at least in your mind–it's none other than Steve Harrington, the most popular guy in school and the one guy you know you would never have a chance with.

For one, he's widely adored–you wouldn't be able to work your way through all his fans if you tried, and most of them are far prettier, smarter, and more popular than you anyways. Two, Steve himself is objectively gorgeous, at least to you, and there's no way he would go for a…for someone like you, someone that looks or sounds or smells like you. Three, you don't even have friends, much less a relationship, so you really would have no idea what you were doing in the first place. Four, you can't even work up the courage to talk to him, or even look in his direction, even though you sat right next to each other all through chem class in your senior year and he asked to borrow your textbook on several occasions. And you now see him at Family Video at least once a week to rent a new movie. That's pretty much the extent of your interactions, and that's where the dream stops and real life slaps you in the face.

But it's on that day that you step into the store and hear excited chattering that you don't realize that might just change, Robin and Steve exchanging words and gestures that look like they're trying to agree on something.

"Welcome to Fa–oh, hey! You're just in time!" Robin waves to you as you walk in, dropping the corporate greeting the second her eyes meet yours. She's always been so nice to you, kind in a way you feel like you don't deserve, but it would be impossible to try and convince her otherwise so you simply go along with whatever she says. You're not really sure how else to be friends…if that's even what you are. Maybe, maybe not. It's a little difficult for you to figure out, even though you desperately want to call Robin your friend. She leans over the counter on her elbows as you walk up, and pats her hands on it as she bounces on the balls of her feet, clearly excited about something.

"You wanna go to a house party with me? Harrington here is chickening out last minute, and I really don't want to go alone."

"I'm not chickening out! I just don't want to hang out with a bunch of dickheads I knew in high school." Steve huffs, certainly because knowing them they've been arguing about it for a while before you stopped by, and he looks so good today, even though you say the same to yourself every time you see him. His hair is a little crazy from him running his hands through it, but it still looks good, fluffy, like every sway of his locks is intentionally beautiful and not accidental.

"I've never been to a house party before! I want the full, uninterrupted experience." You're not even thinking straight when you're distracted by him, and find your mouth running before you can catch it.

"Me neither, um…it sounds like fun, though. I'll go." You say rather meekly, some part of you wondering perversely if Robin's lips will stretch into a smirk as she reveals that she was just teasing, and how dumb do you have to be to think anyone would actually invite you to a party?

"Really? Sick, I don't feel so alone now!" She does a little victory dance, celebrating her triumph with a few fist pumps and the sound of her shoes clacking against the linoleum behind the counter. Safe. Everything is safe, now, you're sure, and you take a deep breath to try and steady your thumping heart.

"Well…okay, if you're both going, I'll come with you." Steve tightens his arms, still crossed over that broad chest that you've only ever seen in its full glory during those basketball games you've snuck out of class to go watch.

"Wow! Changing your mind on a dime just cause Buttercup is coming–I feel like chopped liver, seriously!" She's joking, but it still flusters you. "Buttercup" is one of the few nicknames they've dubbed you with, on account of how many times you've rented out The Princess Bride since they've started working there. As far as you know you're their most frequent customer, so it's somewhat of a game for them to find movies you haven't seen that you might like–and to be brutally honest, it's about the fullest extent of any friendship you have. "Alright, alright, Stevie, you can come keep us safe. But don't you dare be a buzzkill!"

Robin turns back to you after prodding Steve in the chest, and her eyes are brighter than they were before. Even if the realization of what you just agreed to is only hitting you now, and the anxiety is slowly starting to creep in, the fact that you made her so happy by saying yes is all that's keeping you on your feet right now.

"Just come by after we close and we'll drive you there, okay?" You nod in agreement, and that's when Robin climbs up and slides herself across the counter, dropping down beside you on the other side to wave you over to the rows of shelved movies. "Now, what movie are we going with this week? Romcom, horror?"

You place the VHS on the counter, just as pristine as when you picked it up. The Breakfast Club is always a classic for you, you'd watched it a couple times over the week–you always tend to see yourself in Ally, while you see so much of Steve in Andrew, which might be why you've watched it so many times with your pillow hugged to your chest, your eyes glued to the screen. Somehow, though, the sight of John parading around the library tables always stirs something within you, something that reminds you of someone you know, but can't put your finger on.

Either way, you shake the thought from your head as you follow Robin down the aisles, her steps more of a skip as she saunters towards the newer tapes on the New Release rack. She picks up one after the other and chitters on about each one, which ones she thinks are bogus and which ones are diamonds in the rough–but your gaze keeps drifting back to Steve at the counter, his hips pressed against it as he leans back and steadies himself with those smooth, toned biceps, and fiddles with the tape you dropped off…and you have to force yourself to look away, to not meet his eyes when you feel them turn towards you, and focus back on your friend as your mind runs wild with thoughts about tonight.

When the time comes, it's very clear when you move through the front door that you don't belong here.

Hours after picking up your newest movie-The Neverending Story–you're trailing behind Steve and Robin with a new dress you picked out weeks ago and a bit of makeup smeared awkwardly over your eyes. You've never been sure how to do it, but Robin made a point of commenting on how cute you look when you slid into the backseat of Steve's car, so it at least calmed you down a little bit before you got there.

Bodies are packed in everywhere, laughing, talking, drinking. Further into the house you spot a living room down the hall, where the music is loudest and people are dancing so close together they almost look like one full unit. People are stumbling to and from each room with solo cups filled with coloured drinks, most of them drunk already–and you find yourself trying to stick close to Robin, except that she and Steve are hurrying down the hall to go talk to someone they know, and beckoning you after them. There's no going back now, especially since you'll have to walk home if you try to leave alone. And after what happened last time you did so, you just have to swallow the lump in your throat and start putting one foot in front of the other.

You move stiffly down the hallway they had weaved through, people leaning against the walls and moving in groups with their friends to get more drinks or migrate towards the dancing area. Alone, you feel like too many unfamiliar eyes are drawn towards you, you know you must stick out like a sore thumb–but there's one face you recognize, and it immediately makes you regret ever choosing this hallway to work your way down.

Billy Hargrove leans against the wall by his arm, jacket open to reveal a white wifebeater and a packed chest that must be an absolute nightmare to face in a fight, many of which you know he's been in. He's got such a reputation, despite not being in Hawkins for too long, and he was even present at the infamous Starcourt Mall fire–that in itself is evident by the burn scars you can see peeking out from the sides of his leather jacket. Some girl is flirting with him, or trying to, because he looks like he's not paying much attention. You don't even realize it's the girl that tripped you at graduation until you get close enough to sidle past them, but that's unfortunately close enough for Billy to lock eyes with you and stand up off the wall.

"Hey, pretty girl. I don't think we've been introduced." He turns completely towards you, fully engaged, and holds out a hand to you with half-lidded eyes. Thinking about it for more than a few seconds, which is about how long it takes for you to realize that he's actually talking to you, the thought that he must be drunk crosses your mind and your shoulders tense a little bit. He frightens you, and you know he has a temper even at the best of times–you don't even want to know what he might say or do if you piss him off. So you shut your mouth and tremble as you place your hand delicately into his, hoping nothing terrible comes out of the conversation, especially when the girl's eyes are burning a glare into you. Vanessa, you're sure her name is, even though you've tried so hard to forget it. "Billy. You can call me whatever you want, though."

"Hi…uh, I think we've met before." He squeezes your hand, not hard, just an inkling of pressure. The desire to reach out and grab those words to shove them back into your mouth is so strong, but you can't, and your chest tightens so much you might just collapse right then and there. But Billy, on the contrary to what you think he might do, just smiles enough that you can see a glimpse of those pearly teeth past his plush lips.

"I can't believe that," He winks, his thumb rubbing the the heel of your hand before he finally lets it go. Is he…is this what flirting really is? It feels like it's too much like the movies, but you've really got no frame of reference since you have no experience yourself, so you truly have no idea. Including whether he's being facetious or not. "I would've remembered a gorgeous girl like you. Or, more like, I wouldn't have forgotten you. No matter how hard I tried."

Now you're stuck. Dreaded small talk. You can't believe he's doing anything but trying to fuck with you, especially with Vanessa standing right next to both of you, so that's just how you end up thinking about it. But you would be such a liar if you thought his comments didn't raise a heat to your face that must be obvious even under your touch of makeup.

"Um…I, uh…we were…calculus partners.." You're trying to get it all out fast so you can try to catch up to Steve and Robin again, but the words just strangle themselves when they leave your mouth, much like any time you try to speak to someone you're not comfortable with.

"No shit," He breathes. "I do recognize you." He says it in a way that feels more sincere than anything else he's said leading up to this. "You've really changed since then. Really…filled out that figure. Or maybe this is the first time I'm seeing you in clothes like that. You look great."

Billy's eyes roam unapologetically, drinking you in from feet to forehead and every spot in between. It doesn't feel right to be looked at in such a way, it feels perverse–not like how a partner or a love interest would do it, but more like the creepy older men that try to pick you up when you're walking home from work. Even though Billy is far from that, and he's actually a little nicer than you thought he was, it just feels wrong for you to be looked at that way. Because you're not pretty, and you're not special. You're not the type of person that people look at like they want to see you naked, and treasure you while they do so. Not like how Billy's looking at you now, until something seems to strike him that makes him finally pipe up.

"Wasn't that the class that the ginger kid pulled your hair in?" He's right, and it couldn't be more humiliating for him to remember that above all else. Sam Dunner had grabbed your ponytail in third period calculus and yanked it hard, hard enough to sting, and earned himself a cacophony of laughter when you shrieked that you felt, at the time, would be the soundtrack to your entire life. Billy had been out that day, maybe sick, maybe late–but regardless, he hadn't been there to say a word and you had always figured he wouldn't. Up until now, at least, when you nod and mumble a quiet "Yes", and his brow furrows.

"That reminds me, actually." Billy turns to the girl he's been ignoring up until now, her face lighting up when he finally looks down at her. You're surprised she's kept quiet up until now.

"Vanessa, weren't you the one that tripped this nice girl at graduation?" What he says, and the way he says it, renders you completely shocked. You could never imagine talking to someone like her like he just did, because you know she would chew you up and spit you back out for all her friends to laugh at. But evidently Billy is a lot different, because she starts visibly floundering with a stutter when he calls her out right in the open.

"Y-Yeah, so? It was a joke. It was just…in good fun." She recovers quickly if nothing else, and says it with smug venom flicking off her tongue, and you just want to disappear so that she never looks at you with that expression again.

"I think you owe her an apology, actually." He leans into her ear and says it so quietly, almost gently, that your eyes widen as you wonder whether you actually heard that right.

"Are you serious? It was a joke, it's not my fault she got all upset."

"I'm dead fucking serious. Now, why don't you apologize, before I get really pissed off." The tension you feel between them would break a butcher's knife.

"O-Okay! I'm sorry, like…I'm sorry. Jesus." She mutters that last part under her breath.

"That was pathetic, but whatever. Get out of my face." She huffs in frustration but does as he says, pushing past you and knocking shoulders in a way that's definitely intentional–but for you, it's so much of the norm that it doesn't even really faze you. You also don't catch the harsh glare he shoots at the back of her head either, since it disappears as soon as you turn to look at him again and he's pulling out a cigarette from a pack with his teeth.

"You wanna puff, sweetheart?" He reaches into the pocket of his jacket to produce a lighter, but you're quick to shake your head as he cups a hand around the end and lights it up.

"N-No, I have to…get back to my friends. Um, thank you."

"Not a problem, princess. Anyone else gives you problems, you just come to me, mkay?" He winks at you over his burning cigarette, enthused over the way you trip over your words in front of him. You just nod, pseudo-politely, and move to take a step away.

"That's my girl." He breathes out a puff of smoke as he says it, eyes following you until you've moved into the main living room and presumably out of sight. It's a little dizzying when you finally get there, the familiar thumping beat of Love Shack resonating through the walls as you shuffle into what feels like a whole other world.

"Buttercup! Thought we lost you back there." Your one and only friend's voice rises above the crowd as she spots you, and she strolls over to rescue you from the rest of the party. Robin's smile lighting up when she takes hold of your hand soothes you at once, and you breathe deeply as she pulls you along to a more open area of the house where Steve and two other people are standing and chatting.

"Oh, hi! Is this your new friend?" Once she turns to look at you, you recognize both her and the guy standing next to her immediately. The brunette is Nancy Wheeler, one of the most popular girls when you were in school besides being Steve's ex-girlfriend. And standing next to her–

"I know her," Jonathan Byers cuts in, a soft smile tweaking his lips as he waves in your direction. "She and I were in gym together freshman year."

It does come as a surprise that he remembers, but then again, if anyone would, it would be Jonathan Byers. You two were famously bad in your class, constantly being overlooked by the more athletic students and criticized for your pathetic performance in any and all sports by the coach. But your saving grace had been that you were terrible together, even though you were both shy and socially awkward freshmen who could barely talk to each other, much less anyone else. He's the only other one that was really reaching the same level of an outcast as you in school, aside from the infamous Eddie Munson, whom you've only spoken to a handful of times when you've seen him at Family Video but has been one of the few to treat you with familiarity and kindness….two things you rarely find with people your age.

"Really? I feel like I should remember you…did we have any-?"

"No, uh, no we didn't." You don't have the heart to tell her you sat behind her in biology for two years straight, because she seems like a nice girl and you know it'll just make her feel bad and turn the conversation into an awkward mess. So it's easier just to avoid it. And it's already difficult for you to imagine her and Steve…it just hurts, even though it shouldn't. If they didn't last, what chance would you ever have?

"Aw, well, it's really nice to meet you! Steve's told me so much about you, so has Robin. You're a movie buff, huh?"

"I-I…yeah, I like movies."

She's so pretty that it's honestly kind of intimidating, not to mention you're stood in the same circle as not just four other people, but four very cool and charismatic people. You've got no chance, especially with Steve being one of those four, and so you know you just want to say as little as possible to minimize the inevitable embarrassment. But it soon becomes very apparent that you're just destined to be the center of attention.

"Like? She's seen like, every movie in existence." Robin backs you up, maybe intentionally or not, and the way she gushes about you makes you want to hide…but not in the bad way. It's flattering, genuinely flattering. Not something you're all that used to, at all. "She just dropped off Breakfast Club today. Classic."

"Ooh! Who's your favourite?" Nancy looks back at you, sincerity in her eyes. She really is so pretty.

"U-Um…An..Andrew…I like Andrew." That's not entirely a lie, but it also serves as a convenient enough answer to avoid drawing suspicion.

"I, uh, I like Ally." Steve pipes up from nowhere, shoulders shifting as he readjusts his jacket.

"I'm surprised you're not a Molly Ringwald fan, Steve." Jonathan pipes up, and Steve shakes his head with a laugh, but his eyes stick to yours and they don't flicker away this time. And he nibbles his lower lip between his teeth, bites down–oh, he bites down, and suddenly nothing that anyone else says makes it to your ears as you stop and stare. A warm feeling stirs within you, like the words you want to say are bubbling up to your throat–

"C'mon, let's dance! I love this song!" But before they have a chance to come out, Robin's tugging you by the hand over to the dance floor, leaving the other three looking on at the two dorks who have no idea how to function at a party. Robin pulls you to the center of the crowd and giggles as you shyly stick close to her, allowing her to take your other hand too and move them around as the two of you bounce along to the rhythm. You don't really know what you're doing, and neither does she, but the more you realize that nobody is really looking aside from the two of you at each other, it slowly becomes easier and easier to just let the beat move you and a smile to work its way on to your face as Robin twirls you around and laughs free-spiritedly. Song after song comes and goes, you occasionally get a glimpse of Steve watching you through the throng of people–and he looks like he's smiling. Some small, selfishly hopeful part of you prays he's smiling at you.

When you finally tear your eyes away and turn back, Robin's gone. Glancing around to try and find her, you only then distantly remember her speaking in your ear just loud enough over the music that she was gonna go get a drink, but you should've been paying more attention–without her around, you feel small, and scared again. Someone bumps you hard with their elbow and you squeak at the pain in your side, someone else cursing at you for bumping into them in the process, and once you have a chance after that you're slipping through the crowd to get out of the most concentrated area of people. And when you do, you still don't see her, not over by the kitchen or out by the front door.

You can't spot Robin over the crowd you just wormed your way out of, can't really see anyone with so many people in one place. Somebody jostles you as they shove past, and in the heat of the moment, the only option you have is the guy standing just a few feet away, who just pushed his way past a few people in his way–the one you've been too mortified to try and talk to one on one since you were fourteen years old.

"Steve?"

"What's up?" He's strangely alert, focused completely on you like nothing else about the party exists.

"I'm gonna walk home, I…I just need to go home."

"Already? Are you alright?" It's a little shocking to hear that, and to see how concern spells out across his pretty features as he reaches to touch your arm–your arm.

"I'm…I-I'm fine, I just…it's a little too much for me. I don't.." You can't get the words out. I don't belong here. They feel too painful to say in front of someone you admire so much, and you pull away from his touch despite wanting it so badly.

"Aw…okay, wait by the back door, I'll go tell Robin and I'll drive you home."

"It's fine. I'll walk." You're saying it as you're already heading towards the open back door, one that's sliding glass that leads out to the grassy backyard, because you'd much rather dart around the side of the house than fight your way back through to the front door. Plus, you seriously need a breath of fresh air right now. You've got no idea that he's hurrying after you, and has a full view of what's waiting for you when you get out the door.

The second you step out into the cool, airy night, the sloshing shhhh sound of running water hits your ears–and then it hits the rest of you, a spray of freezing cold water crashing into your whole body and catching you completely off guard. The grass beneath you is slippery, and you stumble back and hit the ground hard on your spine, and they're still spraying you with what feels like a fire hose of water with a cackling symphony of laughter until Steve's voice rises above the crowd.

"Hey! Knock that shit off!"

The tidal wave stops and leaves you shaking only when the garden hose drops from your ex-classmate's hands, and that's because Steve's grabbed hold of it and ripped it from his grasp before shoving him, his face so red with anger like you've never seen before. But it doesn't stop the laughing of the crowd gathered around, all of them clearly having waited for the perfect victim to come out to pull their little prank–and each and every face you recognize as someone who at one point tortured you in school.

It takes you one try, then another to get up, still shaky and cold from the water and trying not to slip on the wet grass–but when you do get to your feet you stumble out of the lit area of the yard and around the side of the house, tears welling in your eyes as they laugh even louder and jeer at you with mocking insults that make the sting of humiliation burn even harder. You just want to run as far away as you can, away from the house, the people, from Steve–he must think you're such an idiot–but you hit another wall, although this one catches you in two strong arms before you fall again.

"Hey–princess? Why are you soaked?"

It's the last person you want to see right now, the most likely guy in the entirety of Hawkins to mock you for your current state. But Billy's got confusion and concern written all over his face even so, his voice laced with something a little more…strained.

"Tell me what happened." The cigarette he must have come out to smoke dangles haphazardly from his lips, but he lets it fall and mindlessly grinds it into the dirt when he actually notices it does. Otherwise, his eyes are completely centered on yours.

"I wanna go home," You sniffle.

"Are you crying?" He pulls you into his arms, uncaring as to the fact that you're drenched and freezing. He seems more attentive towards warming you up. And he is warm.

"Who did this to you?"

"I d-dunno his name…"

"Describe him. Where is he?" You point weakly towards the back of the house, still sniveling like a crying baby. You can hear a voice in your head telling you to suck it up, that you're just trying to get attention. That you deserved that.

"Wait here." Whatever words you want to say can't squeeze around the lump in your throat. You just turn your eyes down as Billy steps around you, gait heavy and purposeful as he marches towards the back and collides with someone, yet doesn't stop.

"Watch it, man–hey! There you are," Steve's voice reaches you, but doesn't, at the same time. You don't even turn to look, just stand there staring at the grass and feeling the tears fall and hit the ground as he hurries over and moves in front of you to grip your shoulders.

"Oh, god, honey, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." You brusquely wipe the tears away with your sleeve, and soon you have your arm pinned to your chest as Steve tugs you into his arms and squeezes you so tight against his shoulder.

"Shit, you're cold–come on, let's go inside and warm you up-"

"No!" You push against his chest, and he leans back but doesn't let go, hands loosely holding you still. Your voice is strong but your touch is weak, at least too weak to get away from him. "I don't want to, Steve! I don't want them to laugh at me! I'm fucking sick of it!"

He's struck speechless. You've ruined it all, just like always. Just like you and everyone else in the world knew you would. Stupid, you're so goddamn stupid.

"Then…Then let's not go through the house." He pulls you closer to the side of the house, near the edge of the roof–a sturdy, box-shaped pressure meter serves as the perfect thing for him to step up on, and when he pulls you up with him he clasps his hands together once he's close enough the the edge of the roof jutting out from the first floor. "Here, step on my hands. Climb up–but be careful!"

You don't have the energy to argue with him. And you don't want to subject yourself to anyone else seeing your tears, since you're sure that more of your bullies will be lying in wait near the front of the house to hurt you even worse. But sometimes, you hate how stubborn Steve can be, even as he's lifting you up to climb on to the roof and out of the way of more danger. Once you're kneeling on the tiles, he hauls himself up alongside you with a few groans of effort, before carefully moving towards the window that overlooks the rooftop and yanking it up and open. He ushers you to climb inside and drops inside after you, and once it's closed, you find yourself standing in some stranger's bedroom.

"Steve, we shouldn't be-" He hurries past you and turns his head to raise a finger to his lips, his hand shooting out to twist the lock to the bedroom door. And to make doubly sure that you won't be encroached on, he takes the chair sitting at the desk against the wall and props it underneath the door handle, ensuring that it's properly snug before he sighs in relief.

And now, against all odds, you're standing in a stranger's bedroom at a house party with Steve Harrington. Soaking wet, cold, and cheeks still tearstained from your outburst, wondering what in the world is going to come next–aside from more heartbreak.

little lover.

yandere! fatui harbingers x gn! darling. 

headcanons on sharing a darling (shared darling au).

› wc: 8.3k.

› characters included: pierro, scaramouche, pantalone, childe, arlecchino, columbina, il dottore, il capitano, sandrone.

› tw: suggestive themes, pseudo-incest and incest (pierro and childe), mention of noncon (pierro), physical punishment (capitano, scaramouche, and sandrone), mention of human trafficking (pantalone), gendered nickname (arlecchino).

› note: ah the length of these headcanons got the best of me… i would have broken this post up into individual pieces, but i think it’s best to read them altogether considering they’re sharing a darling. i also reposted my columbina headcanons here with several additions for the sake of consistency!

also…please pretend scaramouche didn’t run away and is here to partake in darling <3

Keep reading

Title: Artificiality.

Heavily based on this ask.

Pairing: Yandere!Dainsleif x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 2.0k.

TW: Sex Doll AU,  GN!Reader, Implied Sex, Implied Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, and Mentions of Blood/Injury.

Dainsleif, your good friend, didn’t like crowds.

He wouldn’t admit him, but it was obvious. You were good at reading him, and even if you hadn’t been, he couldn't really hide it - always edging just a little closer to you than he normally would, or running his hand through his hair as his eyes shifted from your back to the sidewalk to the masses of strangers you were shouldering past, or making a quick grab for your hand before remembering how cool and distant he liked to be and pulling away. It was worse than it usually was today, maybe due to the summer heat or the time of day or the fact that you'd managed to drag him out to the shopping district of all places, somewhere he tended to avoid like one of the mall cops had a warrant out for his arrest. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but think that, if it wasn’t for you, he’d never leave his apartment, shun all human and artificial company alike. It was a terrible way to picture one of your closest friends, but still – you wouldn’t say it if part of you didn’t believe it was true.

“Hey,” You called, over your shoulder. He was behind you, his shoulders pushed forward and his head bowed, slightly. He was scowling, but you couldn’t blame that entirely on the crowds. “Doing alright back there, Dain?”

He hesitated, made a throaty sound that might’ve been a scoff, or a sigh, or something else entirely. “I’m fine.”

A lie. A blatant one, at that.

But, that was why he had you, right?

You laughed as you grabbed his hand, guiding him off of the crowded walkway and onto the covered patio of a nearby café, dotted with a few tables and a handful of seated customers but otherwise empty. When he didn’t immediately unwind, you did what you could to set an example – leaning against a white-washed brick wall, tilting your head back, and watching as Dainsleif crossed his arms, shifted his weight, did all the things he usually did when you’d taken him somewhere he didn’t want to be. When he glanced in your direction, you could only shrug, smiling apologetically. “I didn’t think it’d be so busy,” You admitted, nodding towards the rows of packed storefronts in front of you. “Sorry, I should’ve thought about that before I asked you to come. I promise, I just need to do one more thing, then we can leave.”

“I told you, I’m fine.” Stubborn as always, even as he fiddled with the sleeves of his jacket. Maybe that was why he always seemed so uncomfortable, so eager to leave wherever you’d taken him. If you dressed like he did – all long-sleeves, all full-length jeans, all heavy coats and high collars and thick, dark material – you probably wouldn’t want to stand around in the heat for very long, either. “If any of this bothered me, I wouldn’t have come. Besides,” He paused, gesturing vaguely towards the dozen or so plastic, branded shopping bags hanging from your wrist. “Someone has to make sure you don’t spend your life’s savings on… Why are we here, again?”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t answer immediately. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the door to the café opening, a waiter… or, rather, an android being used as a waiter soon stepping out, notepad already in-hand. A Venti, judging by the twin braids, the easy smile he put on as he started towards you, probably mistaking you and Dainsleif for waiting customers. You waved him off quickly, of course, chuckling to yourself as he spun on his heels to tend to another set of patrons. “I’ve told you, Teyvat has a new—”

“Don’t tell me that you’d be interested with someone like him.”

His tone caught you off-guard. Clipped, irritated, laced with a kind of annoyance you couldn’t remember ever hearing from him. You weren’t hurt, but the shock thew you off for a second, your confusion audible in your voice as you tried to respond. “Do you mean that Venti specifically, or…?”

“I—” He pursed his lips, turning away from you sharply. “I mean, don’t tell me you’d be interested in something like that.”

“Oh, a companion droid?” That made more sense. He’d never liked androids, something you could only chalk up to the fact that Dainsleif didn’t like a lot of things – save for you, of course. “You know I’ll never be able to afford one, which is exactly why you're taking me to drool over the new droid Teyvat's releasing today. I've heard it's a Harbinger - one that'll only cost three years worth of rent, for a change.” You straightened your back, perked up, waving for him to follow you as you started back onto the walkway. “Speaking of, c'mon. We should get going before this set sells out.”

There was another scoff, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, a new levity to his voice. You couldn’t help but relax a little, at that. Honestly, you were just hoping he'd have a good time. “Fine,” He said, already falling into line behind you. “If that’s what you want.”

"I couldn't think of anything I'd love more, Dain."

~

Dainsleif, your boyfriend, was touchier than he’d like to admit.

His hands latched onto your waist, your knees planted on either side of him, his face buried in the side of your neck, where he could lap at your skin and moan into the crook of your shoulder as you ground against the prominent bulge in his sweatpants. There was a movie playing in the background, one of the B-rated high-fantasy flicks he liked, but you’d lost track of the plot twenty minutes after he’d put it on, and any scraps of dialogue you’d be able to make out were lost under the sound of his hitched breathing, the occasional grunt that’d slip out whenever you rolled your hips in a way he seemed to enjoy.

He pressed a wet, hot kiss into the side of your neck, and you whimpered, bringing your hands up to the hem of his shirt, your fingertips just barely brushing against his toned stomach before he caught your wrists and hauled your own shirt over your head, nearly tearing the fabric in the process. You only laughed, the pitchy sound cut short as he wrapped an arm around your waist and threw you onto his couch – positioned so that he was above you, his chest pressed into yours and your legs wrapped around his waist. His mouth was on your neck in an instant, then your collarbone, then your chest, his teeth grazing over your skin with just a little too much pressure and a little too much precision to be purely accidental. You arched into him, your fingers soon tangled in his hair, and he let out a rough groan, nearly too low for you to hear. “Mast—”

He cut himself off, straightening his back, going rigid on top of you. It took everything you had not to laugh. You knew you shouldn’t tease him, not right now, not like this, but still, the temptation was there. “What was that, Dain?”

He hesitated for a long, quiet second, then closed his eyes, melted into you despite the tension still knotted in his posture. “Master…” He trailed off, his voice soft, muted. “Is it… Is it alright if I call you that?”

“Of course.” You did your best to comb through his hair, to as comforting as you could be, given the situation. It took him a moment, but he leaned into your palm, sighing heavily as he started to relax. “It just surprised me a little, ‘s all. I didn’t know you were into stuff like that.”

You watched as he swallowed, as he lowered himself back down to your chest. “And, I can touch you?”

A little, soft sound of agreement, a gentle nudge lower. “Anywhere you want to.”

He didn’t say anything for a long moment, didn’t move at all.

Then, he broke out into a small smile, and his eyes fell away from you, his expression softening into something nearly sweet. “I love you.”

You only grinned, sitting just far up enough to kiss the top of his head. “I love you too, Dain.”

~

Dainsleif, your Dainsleif, was standing in the doorway of your bedroom, covered in blood.

That was the first thing you noticed after you bolted awake, panting and still trying to understand what you were looking at, from his torn clothes to the open gash stretched across his chest to the splotches of something dark and wet and drippinglittered across his chest, his hands, his legs. He didn’t have a key, he’d never asked for one, but you hadn’t heard him knock, nor had he turned on any of the lights, done anything aside from stand there and stare at you, not blinking or moving or breathing, from what little you could see. You sat up, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t move to approach you. You didn’t know whether to be scared, or thankful you had a few more seconds to catch your breath.

A few seconds you wasted, of course. He was bleeding, and you needed to know why. “Dain? Are you—”

“They’re bastards.” You almost asked who he was talking about, what he was talking about, but you didn’t have the chance. He was already going on, already rambling, already approaching you with the kind of quick, stilted steps that’d fit something else, something more mechanical than you or him. “All of them – bastards. The Archons were—They aren’t even cheap replacements, they’re killers, and Teyvat, the other androids, all of them, they’re all murderers—"

“Dainsleif.” You started to get up, pushing your sheets aside and moving to stand, but he was already at your side, already trying to take your hands in his. You pulled back, and he let out a frustrated grunt – something you tried to ignore as you continued. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, and—Did someone hurt you? What happened?”

“They want me dead.” He was smiling, now, grinning wildly. He made another grab for your hands, and when you drew away, he took you by the shoulders, instead, his grip almost tight enough to bruise. “They want all of us dead, Master – everyone from my collection. But, I won’t let them. They can’t kill all of us. They can’t rip off my skin and ruin my mind and send me out as some— some object.” He paused, laughed, dragging you into a sudden, clumsy kiss. You shoved at his chest, bit at his lips, but he didn’t so much as flinch, only pulling away after he’d gotten his fill. “I’ll have to move again. But, you’ll come with me, won’t you? You love me, don't you, Master?"

You opened your mouth, but couldn’t speak. Your eyes were starting to adjust to the darkness, and before you could stop yourself, your attention fell from his face to his chest, to the tear in his shirt that slit the fabric apart from his neckline to his midriff. You were right about the cut. It was a wound, messy and deep, but it wasn’t bleeding, and the skin around it didn’t look right, too clean, too neat. There wasn’t any muscle, or tissue – just blackness, empty void interrupted by…

By something silver?

Your eyes shot back to his, and for the first time, you noticed how glassy they were, how his skin was just a little too perfect, a little too smooth. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. If you were being honest, you didn’t want him to.

It’d save you the pain of having to wonder why you’d never noticed how unnatural his voice sounded, before.

Imagine trying to explain stuff about our time to them to, like smart phones, they'd probably just think you're crazy. Would probably have dustin contact suzie to get more of an understanding what you're even talking about, especially since she knows what internet is

OK, ellie, hear me out, I'm on a run with this idea of like an angelface, who somehow accidentally Timetravled all the way back to the 80's, from our time, (could easily be something to do with gates that somehow keep opening?) And ends up waking up in the woods that apparently all of em live by for some reason, say like eddie or Steve find you, lost, confused, scared and dirty cause god know what ever hell you saw and were in before you finally appeared in hawkins in the 80's.

They end up bringing you in and kind of gather everyone to just try and get things figured out. Get your name, information like where you're from and if you happen to know what even happened.

You end up explaining that you're from a completely different time, in the future none the less, I mean, how hard could it be for them to believe? They've fought and seen stuff far less likely to be real than some random time traveling person, right?

They get to know you, get a little attached and obviously dread of the idea of you having to go back to your time and maybe try and convince you to stay, but ultimately understand that you have to go back

UNLESS its the yabdere fruity four. Not only keeping you trapped with them in whoever's house, I'd assume steve's and would also switch between his and eddies but they're also keeping you from going back to your own time. Like, listen, I've been obsessing a little bit over your yandere fruity four and this idea of some accidental time traveling angelface has been on my mind and I think its mostly cause I started watching time wasters, but like, just having to help them fight something from the upside down again just to get home is just my current brain rot and it makes it better with yanderes. I'm sorry I'm like this oml 😭

hey felly how does it feel knowing you're literally making me feral, this is SUCH GOOD SHIT-

like, super-traumatized angelface stumbling out of a gate in Hawkins after being chased through one by some weird....dog....thing, with horrible leathery skin and way too many teeth and that piercing screech. and just your luck, you keep running through the forest without knowing whether or not you're still being chased, not knowing if you're still in that horrible other world, until you crash right into somebody and hit the dirt on top of them.

Steve, i feel like, wouldn't let you get up right away--he'd grab you by the arms and ask if you're alright, because you're shaking so bad and he can tell you must have saw something terrifying, and will help you up while trying to reassure you that it's okay. whoever you are, he won't let you get hurt. you remind him a little of the kids, his kids, in that moment, and he just hurries you back to the closest house with an arm wrapped tight around your shoulders to keep you close. there's no way you could fake terror like that, and he keeps a close eye over his shoulder, because he knows just what kind of things happen in Hawkins and he won't let someone else fall victim to them, if he can help it. especially not someone as cute as you, even with all that dirt in your hair and your face.

Eddie would be dumbstruck for a few moments, but when you scramble to get up with tears in your eyes and start running again, he chases after you until he manages to catch you. probably gets an elbow to the face or a kick to the shins when he grabs you and you start thrashing, crying and wailing for him not to kill you--but luckily he's pretty good at calming you down and promises he's not gonna do anything of the sort, he just wants to know why the hell a pretty thing like you is out in the woods so late at night? shouldn't you be at home, like, watching a movie or listening to pink floyd or something? and the look you give him when he says that makes him just as confused as you look, the "what's pink floyd?" even more so. and yeah, Eddie's not gonna let you wander around the woods when you're clearly an amnesiac or something--he's gonna take you home and let you clean up, without yet knowing just how much of this particular time you're not familiar with. and show you some real music in the meantime, while he calls the others to figure out what to do with you.

USELESS

these two keep getting gayer and gayer with each other. that’s it, that’s the post.

don't leave me be, be with me - yandere fruity four

plot: regardless of how much you love your partners, their love for you grows stifling now and again. and the best way to remedy that is to be a little rebellious, which is what leads you to sneak out with Robin and go for a little joyride and on a quest for breakfast in the middle of the night.

cws: gn!angelface, yandere fruity four, st 4 spoilers, polycule, post s4, eddie lives arc, PTSD-related coping mechanisms (alcohol abuse, isolation, reckless behavior), drinking, robin and angelface are drunk, drunk driving, scars, hurt/comfort, implied sexual dynamics, softcore, very mild jealousy, mentions of violence, fluff.

word count: 3.6k

spice level: 0.5/5

"Where the fuck are they?"

Steve's pacing again, shoes heavy on the carpet as he tries not to lose his temper. There's music blasting in Eddie's room, but the door is shut, and Nancy doesn't even want to try and knock right now. She doesn't have any answers for him, and it would just stress him out more. While it's been months since he's gotten out of the hospital, he's still healing in…other ways.

"I don't know, Steve."

"Yeah, well, they have to be somewhere, Nancy! They can't just disappear, not unless-"

"Steve, don't go there. They took the van, they're probably off getting ice cream or something–you know how those two are. The only danger they're in is Robin driving without a license." Nancy bites her lip. She doesn't know if that's the truth, she just wants it to be.

"Oh, God, what if they got into an accident?" But Steve's practically inconsolable–he always gets like this, his brain is hardwired to sense danger even when there is none. Probably. But there's a chance, so he's sniffed it out and won't stop fussing until he has you in his arms again, she's sure.

"Steve-" That look on his face is definitely not a good one, that sudden realization that means he can't stay still any longer–even though he hasn't been, it's shocking that there isn't an indent in the floor from where he's been pacing back and forth for the last hour. He marches over to the couch and grabs his jacket, throwing it on one arm at a time as he slides past Nancy and heads towards the front door. "Where in the world are you going?"

"Gonna drive around town and look for the van." Typical. His solutions are largely straight to the point, if not a little over the top. The second she opens her mouth for a rebuttal, he holds up a hand to stop her. "I'm going, Nance! Don't try to stop me."

She knows how stubborn he is, it's a good if not occasionally frustrating quality. And in all honesty, he has every right to be as fretful as he is.

All four of them nearly didn't survive the horrors that Vecna brought to Hawkins, but Steve and Eddie definitely experienced a new level of physical torment that she knows she won't ever fully be able to sympathize with. You're the only one Steve's ever really told the full story to, the one he's cried to and held so close for fear that if he didn't, you'd be taken away yourself. They've all seen each other's scars, but you've taken care of each and every one of them–you know them intimately, know the pain and the story and the way they've healed but never gone away, and never will. You're what Eddie calls their "cleric", but he always refers to you as an angel. And you are one.

Speaking of Eddie, he hasn't been the same either. None of them have, but he's different–quieter. The hospital seemed to numb him after the demobat attack, barely alive and clinging to life for so long that even Nancy didn't believe he would really make it. But you did, you never gave up on him, and eventually he opened his eyes and smiled that sweet smile at the sight of you, and she'll never forget the wails you let out as you hugged him so tight the nurse tried to pry you off–the memory usually brings a smile to her face. Steve got kicked out of the visiting room for a week after locking her out of the room, just so the four of you could hold Eddie as long as you wanted and kiss him, stroke his hair, tell him you love him…they were hard days, but good ones. But now everyone is just trying to survive normal life, and that's mostly to your credit. You make life just a little more bearable…and when you're gone, like you have been for the last couple hours, they're all on edge.

Nancy hurries after him out the door to the trailer, knowing good and well that she can't let him run off on a rescue mission by himself. He's too reckless with himself and too tunnel visioned when it comes to you, and it's certain not to turn out well if he really freaks out without someone there to calm him down. And that's when the familiar sound of crunching gravel hits her ears and she stops to watch the sight before her, Steve having only gotten to the bottom step before he freezes too.

That familiar van pulls up slowly, slow like the driver is trying not to draw attention, and comes to a stop just about a foot off of the mark that carves out the driveway from the rest of the grass. The pause between the vehicle stopping and the passengers getting out is suspiciously long, but when the doors crack open and the two of them get a glance at you, they're sure they know why.

"Naaaaaancy!" You giggle, your footsteps so wobbly as you move around the hood that you have to use it for support, while Robin hops out from the driver's seat and throws it closed before stumbling towards you. The two of you have to cling to each other, your hands clutching Robin's arm, to even hope to make it up the driveway and towards the front door–and when you get close enough, Nancy's nose crinkles as the smell of liquor wafts over and hits her like a train. So does the realization–you two have been drinking, and drinking hard.

"Can I have a kiss, Nancy?" You cackle, tripping over your own feet and nearly hitting the ground, if not for Robin's surge of strength as she pulls you back up with a goofy smirk on her lips. One glance at Steve, and she can see it clearly–he is absolutely pissed, his scowl mean enough to burn a hole through concrete.

"Where the hell were you two?!" He didn't mean to yell, Nancy knows that, but you two don't even flinch. You're not even all there, too caught up in your own world and in each other's mouths as you capture Robin in a kiss instead.

"Pancakes! Errrr, and other stuff.." You giggle around a mouthful of Robin's tongue, your playful wink just earning you a furious huff from your big, strong protector.

"Oh nooooooo, I think we're in trouble!" The two of you can't contain your laughter as you break off and nuzzle against each other, Robin's arm clutched in your soft hands as she whisper-yells that into your ear. She even cups her hand to make it seem like she's trying to be subtle, and she probably is, she just doesn't realize how loud she's being and how late it is.

"You're drunk." Steve states bluntly. It's not a first for Robin since the Vecna incident, unfortunately, but it's surprising for you.

"Just a liiiiiittle," Robin pouts, her fingers pinched together to show just how 'little' you and her have been drinking. From the smell of you two alone, it has to have been at least a full bottle of straight liquor between you two, maybe more.

"Don't get mad, Stevie! We were havin' fun."

"You were being stupid. You were driving drunk! Without a license!" He's almost vibrating with anger and frustration. Robin's blasé tone pisses him off on a good day, and after putting your life and hers in danger, it does even more so.

"Bite. Me!" You share an even more girlish laugh at Robin's outburst, each word punctuated by a middle finger, like it's the funniest thing in the whole world. "You guys suck ass, you're suffocating us–you guys hate fun!"

Nancy would probably be grabbing Robin's tongue for that foul comment, but she's so out of it she knows that there's no use. She'd probably just laugh it off, or cry, and she doesn't want either of those two extremes to deal with right now. But there is something she has up her sleeve that always works.

"You two made Eddie very upset, you know." Nancy lays her hand on Steve's shoulder as she speaks, silently relaying to him that she's got it under control. A soft "Eddie?" passes your lips. It's incredible how quickly you both snap to attention when she mentions his name, sharing a look between you two before both turning back to listen intently.

"Mhm. He's been up all night worrying about you two. He doesn't like it when you're gone, it makes him scared. You know that." Her voice is stern, but still gentle enough for you two to take in. The 'mom voice' as you, Robin, and Eddie like to call it, which is largely reserved for when she really needs to get firm with one of you. Or all of you.

"Eddie? Where's Eddie?" Your tone wavers, giddiness turning to concern in a matter of syllables.

"Tell us, Nance!" Robin tugs at her sleeve, eyes big and wide with worry.

"He's in his room." Both of you rush past them, hurrying up the steps in a frantic bid to find your beloved boyfriend. You love them all equally, of course–but Eddie is sensitive. Sweet. He's always been that way, but it's increased tenfold since Vecna and caused you to be even more protective over him than you were before. You just want to protect that precious smile no matter what.

"Eddie! We're home, baby!"

It's when you both stumble through the front door that you see him at once. Frazzled, his curly hair mussed, dark circles under his eyes from worry. His nails are bitten down almost completely, bad habit he struggles to kick when he's anxious. He's standing in the living room like he heard the ruckus and had come to see what was happening, but his eyes are clear and set on one of you at a time, switching between like he's assessing that you're both here and both safe.

The two of you rush forward and knock him right off his feet, a startled shriek pulled from his lips followed by a grunt as his back thuds against the carpet, and the two of you collapse on top of him with your full respective weight in a hug so tight he couldn't squirm away if he tried. Even being taken off guard, Eddie squeezes both of you tight in a hug as best he can, a relieved smile flickering across his face as you press desperate kisses to his cheek.

Nancy and Steve step inside, and the sight at their feet just raises a sigh. They might not be happy, but they are glad you're unharmed and in relatively good spirits.

"We're sooooorry, Eddie! Soooo sorry!" You babble, pawing at his neck and his face to plant even more kisses on his lips. He turns only to ruffle Robin's hair and peck her on the forehead, but otherwise his mouth is occupied by yours, and gladly so, if his muffled little gasps and mumbles of "missed you" are any indication.

"What about us? You have an apology for scaring the crap out of us?" Steve asks, irritation still lacing his voice. Part of it is definitely a spark of jealousy, Nancy can tell better than most. It takes you some work and the aid of Eddie's hand, but you get up and stumble over wobbly feet, and throw one arm around Nancy's shoulder and one around Steve's to loosely hug them both.

"M' sorry, Nancy…sorry Stevie….I love you guys soooooooo much.." You maw on each of their cheeks as well, leaving wet kisses by their ears and down their necks as if each one is to make up for one of the many minutes you spent away from them.

"We love you too." Nancy squeezes you back, eyes screwed shut, a breath caught in her lungs as she tries to keep it all in, to keep it together. Breaking down and crying because she was so worried about you would only hurt you.

"I've been bad…"

"Yeah, you have been bad." Steve's hand is in your hair, and despite reaffirming your realization, he's still so gentle with you like you're made of porcelain. As frustrating as he can be, and as much of a dad as he acts like sometimes, he's still so softhearted when it comes to you that it's honestly comical.

"Sooooooo….you gonna punish me?" You pull away to look at both of their faces, and giggle when their eyes widen, and they share a look like they can't believe what you just said. They haven't really seen you drunk very often, so they're not used to the…mood you sometimes get in.

"Not now, baby. But you are gonna make it up to us, later." Nancy tenderly takes your arm off of her and rubs it, trying to be strict but it just comes out soft.

"Aww, Nancy…" Your eyes draw towards Steve, who still has some frustration lingering on his features. He'll never realize how sexy it is–how sexy he is when he's mad. You slide that free arm around his other shoulder, and lean into him for your lips to just barely brush his.

"C'mon, Stevie, wanna feel you inside me…" His shoulders stiffen up and his chest tightens, his lungs at a standstill at the sight of you rubbing your body up against his. And then you lean up, and your lips ghost over his ear, and you whisper that dreaded pet name that sends a shiver up his spine and has him tilting his head up that he wasn't ready for–not in front of the others, at least. "..Wanna be good for you. Promise."

Your little attempt to get him all worked up, and your teeth nibbling at his adam's apple, is interrupted by a soft groan, one that turns all three of your heads towards the two lumps on the floor. When Eddie sits up, he moves to clutch Robin's limp body as she lays against him, who is very clearly asleep and sighing quietly into his neck at the movement.

"Okay, bedtime! C'mon!" With a face still flushed and hot, Steve hups and squats down to wrap his arms around your thighs, before he lifts you up to throw you over his shoulder and starts walking towards Eddie's room. Every step is another bounce and your grin is still loopy and enthused as he does so, while Eddie hauls Robin up to her feet and Nancy supports her by her other arm to lead her the same way. Thankfully it's a short ride, and when Steve flips you back on to the bed and kneels to take your shoes off for you, Robin hangs off your other friends before collapsing into bed beside you. She's so pretty with that red flush to her face, warm and dizzy from the alcohol and laid out on her back, her breasts heaving as she breathes quietly before opening her eyes and turning them towards you.

Once Steve's hands are occupied with carrying off your shoes and no longer ghosting against your ankle, you find yourself moving up on your knees and throwing one over Robin's waist, her fingers lifting up to brace your thigh as you sit gently enough on top of her for it not to hurt. The words have left her vocabulary, but the pleased sigh that she emits at the feeling of you pressed up against her is enough for you to understand.

"Robbie," You lean down to kiss her, and moan the nickname into her mouth. "Wanna do what we did in the backseat…"

"Uh huh…" She whimpers, hands laid out by her head in total submission. Her hips are already rolling against you, mind clearly muddled by need that you apparently haven't satisfied quite yet. Your hands move to unbutton her jeans, your gaze set and tongue flicking out to lick your lips–when Steve grabs you by the wrist and your head tilts to look up at him.

"Prude," You stick your tongue out at him, annoyed at his familiar interruption. Robin wasn't totally wrong, sometimes Steve is such a stick in the mud. He looks genuinely hurt, though, and his eyes fall from yours like he's trying not to show you what he's really feeling.

"Noooo, not the puppy dog eyes…m' sorry for pissin' you off, baby.." His grip loosens on your wrist, but you just grab his instead to pull him close enough for your foreheads to touch. He can't look away now, not even if he wanted to.

"I wasn't really mad, I..I was just…scared." His voice is so rarely this shaky, unsure, that it almost doesn't sound like Steve. Not your confident, headstrong Steve.

"Why?" You smile so innocently, it's nigh impossible to still be mad at you. He knows that, and yet he can never, ever resist it. "I'll always come back, Stevie. Not going anywhere."

A tired smile tweaks at his lips, and he moves to turn away–but you don't let him, and you grab his face to hold it in place.

"I'm not going anywhere, Steve." You sound more sober in that one breath than you have since you got home. More than you ever have, maybe. And he has nothing he can say that can encompass his feelings in that moment, so he just simply nods, and shares a kiss with you that's so damn sweet even with the taste of liquor on your teeth.

Having been relatively quiet until now, Eddie crawls into bed beside you two, his sneakers kicked off but his clothes from the day still on. Nancy's busying herself with pulling up a blanket off the floor to throw over you three, nudging your arm for you to slide off of Robin and cuddle up between the two of them so she can do so. Eddie's breath hitches when your fingertips brush the scars beneath his shirt, the flesh of his belly torn up and only now having healed into what he thinks are ugly scars.

"Eddie's so pretty…" You mumble as you turn to face him, already nodding off with the warmth of both their bodies cushioning you like big, heated pillows. Robin snuggles up to your back and drapes her arm over your waist, and Eddie wedges his arm beneath you two so you can both use it as a pillow, his fingers laced in Robin's hair to help her fall asleep like it always does.

"You're prettier, angelface." His warm breath on your face draws a chuckle from you, and with your eyes closed he kisses your brow before finally settling in to drift off with you. And when Nancy's finished tucking you all in and Steve shuts off the lights, each of you sharing your "I love you"s and "good night"s, the two of them shut the door quietly behind them to leave the three of you in relative peace as you slumber.

It feels like the day has dragged on so long, and in some sense it has–the time is nearing three am if the clock in the hallway is any indication. She and Steve have been awake for far too long, but it doesn't look like he's in any mood to rest by the expression on his face.

"You think we were a little too-"

"Harsh? No." Steve cuts her off abruptly. He knows exactly what she's thinking, he usually does–but this time, for once, Nancy really has no clue what's running through his mind.

"I'm gonna make them regret that tomorrow. I'll slash the tires on that stupid van if it keeps them here." The sudden surge of emotion in his voice takes her by surprise. Almost always, your touch and a few gentle words in that beautiful voice of yours are enough to calm him from whatever is bothering him. He's infamous for falling for your reassurances, giving in to you so often that it's like you're a siren to him, his certainty so often falling to the wayside when you sway him into believing whatever it is you're telling him.

"They might just steal your car, Steve. You know Eddie's got those magic fingers." She waggles her fingers teasingly, she's trying to lighten the mood, and he does chuckle a little at the joke. But the way his face sets immediately after is…intense.

"Not if I break their legs first."

"Steve," Her hand reaches for his arm, but his eyes and his mind are somewhere else.

"Don't." He warns. There's not enough conviction in his voice for her to really be worried about that–at least not now, when not enough has happened for him to really think that's at all a good plan. You haven't scared him enough, but…it does frighten her to think that it's still a possibility, albeit a very small one. Even though it would work, she hates to see you in pain, to see you scared. "Wasn't even my idea. Eddie talks in his sleep."

He steps away with those words lingering on his lips, heading towards the front door to drop your shoes by the others–but not before he reaches over and grabs the bat he's kept since that first night he realized that the world wasn't as safe as he thought it was. He throws the door open, and leans back to call to her before he takes a seat on the step and waits to see if anyone–or anything–followed you two home. Like always.

"...So do you, Nance."

Jacob Custos from The Quarry is my baby girl (REAL)❗❗❗

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Why hello dear reader! First official post on my SAGAU series ;) So enjoy~ (PLEASE I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT JUST NOW AND FELT MY SOUL LEAVE MY BODY)

@still-dazai-simp-not-sorry you asked to be tagged in my posts so here ya go! Hope ya like it :)

𝑾𝒆𝒍𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆, 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓.

𝑨𝒘𝒂𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝒂 𝒓𝒖𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒆.

You open your eyes to a plain field, the grass gently tickling you awake. The sun shone its rays upon your form, not so harsh that it hurts your eyes. It was peaceful, yet you look around panicking at the unfamiliar surroundings. Certainly no one would expect to be thrown somewhere they don't recognize when the last thing they recall is a good slumber in bed.

Ever so slowly you take in the sight. Beautiful, yes, and you notice the gigantic tree of which you rest under. Peeking around it, you spot a very familiar statue. Your heart starts beating faster and you scrambled up to run towards it. Barbatos - no, Venti's Statue of The Seven. You were at Windrise. In Genshin, your beloved game.

Nothing had ever captivated you more. It felt so real. The rustling of leaves in the wind, the birds chirping away their melodies, and that warmth on your skin. The breeze and the warmth, it felt like it was cradling you. As if you were the most precious being in all the universe to them (and you are). You walk around, catching a glimpse of Mondstadt far off in the distance. Perhaps you've died, and your dreams came true after all. To be somewhere you held so dearly in your heart.

❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎•❥︎

Running. Fear. Breathlessness.

That's all you've been experiencing this whole day. Of course, you should've expected it. After all, why would your favourite characters- people-

welcome you with open arms? You were a stranger to them. But that's not what had you so...perplexed. All the Vision Bearers and the NPCs, were hunting you down for supposed sacrilege. Apparently, Genshin Impact had a "God of all Gods" and you looked like Them.

You didn't understand, there was never a God like that mentioned in the lore and it definitely seemed like an important aspect. Judging from the people's actions in their name. But you were born with this face. So, why is it you were branded an imposter? Why is it that you had committed the greatest sinful act against the "Creator"? Who even are They?

As your thoughts raced, your body collides into something, or rather someone. Resulting in you falling unceremoniously on your butt. You look up and see an oh so familiar ginger. Tartaglia, or more commonly known as Childe. He stares at your form on the ground. Slowly, the realization sinks into him, visible on his face.

"So, you're the imposter that's been running around. Unfortunately, Liyue won't be a safe haven for you either."

Hydro swirls around his arms as it takes shape into his iconic blades. Never in your life had you seen such pure bloodlust in someone until today. You should run, you know this. He'll hurt you like all the others. But you stay on the ground, helpless and hoping for a quick death.

You close your eyes, anticipating for pain. Yet, all you felt was an unnatural coldness washing over you. Heels clacked on the stone harbor's ground as it approaches both you and Childe. You open your eyes to see La Signora, her ice encasing Childe's body up to his neck. She glares at him before kneeling to you, a gentle smile so out of place.

Wait- kneeling?

"Your Grace, I sincerely apologize for this buffoon's impulsive actions. I thought by spending months in the abyss he would recognize you by now."

Signora wrapped her arms around your waist as she continued snapping at Childe for what he'd done. Her arms. Even with gloves it was ice cold. Right now though, there was a certain warmth to it you just couldn't resist. You were still confused as to why she had called you "Your Grace" but her gentle caresses calmed you a little too well.

Signora's and Childe's back and forth argument start to fade out. Mutterings of "gold blood" and "imposter" turned into silence. Black dots start tainting your vision as you start going limp. You don't know why, but you utter Signora's name as you slip into unconsciousness.

"Rosalyne..."

Yandere Wasp Izuku

((Contains: Somnophilia, or something akin to it, while no sex ensues, the reader is marked while in the middle of sleeping. Anyway enjoy!))

“Izuku! Seriously, it isn't a big deal!” you try and calm the wasp breed down, hands up in defense for the person behind you who was almost sobbing in fear. The green haired hybrid was almost snarling, his wings batting angrily in a show of intimidation as he tried to lunge at the poor soul. 

“IZUKU! CALM DOWN!” you shout, shoving him back to give the person time to run, listening to the scurrying footsteps being drowned out by the fervent beating of his wings. Once you believed the coast was clear, you stepped back, hand placed on the still heated hybrid's chest. 

“What has gotten into you?! I would expect this kind of behavior from the others, but you?”

Izuku chuffs, turning his head away in shame at your scolding. His wings fold back down, and his eyes return to their softer, more welcoming presence. “I’m…I’m sorry. I honestly don’t know what came over me. When I saw them touch your hand- and how they got their scent on you, I just…My feet moved before I could think”. 

His voice was sincere, his eyes having a look similar to a scolded puppy as he gently took your hand from his chest, letting it drop reluctantly. 

You take a breath, eyes focused on the ground for a moment as you gather your thoughts. “Ok. Ok I can see you thinking of me as a hive like sibling possibly, maybe that’s what caused you to lash out. But it’s no excuse for threatening them!”

Izuku wanted to correct you, that no- you weren’t seen as a hive relative. You were seen as a MATE. One only he was allowed to be around. But, seeing as you were still distraught over the incident, he decided to work on how he would drop that information on you. Perhaps back home, maybe in your room?

No, no your room is nice, but izuku’s is better. You’ll be more protected there, covered in his scent so other insect breeds don’t get any funny ideas and have to face the evil side of his species. 

He shakes his head, eyes widening slightly as he soaks in what just crossed his mind. What was he thinking?! Keeping you nested in his room- that’s never come to light before. Sure, he’s always been protective of you, but this was becoming more worrisome by the second. 

You give a sigh, and decide to finish this little walk so you don’t possibly give a heart attack to an innocent citizen. “It’s something we can look into later. I know your species is still new to this side of earth and all, so maybe we should brush up on some customs and such to avoid any more death threats”. 

-----------

Izuku sat down as he read through some files, humming in thought every now and again as the screen scrolled on his phone. “No…That’s outdated…that one's true but…no, no. none of these are helping!” he groaned in frustration, wanting to toss the device as he slammed his head back in annoyance. 

He clicked out of the page and tried looking through the other categories and sub folders, eyebrows pinching in confusion as he searched. Finally, after about an hour, he decided to check the mating behaviors folder, taking in a short breath. 

“Possessive, mates for life, territorial and…” he continues reading on, seeing that his age range is about the time where he starts to need a mate to bond with if he hasn’t already chosen one. Tilting his head in thought, he supposed it made sense that he was so protective of you these past few months. Maybe he just subconsciously chose you, delegating you as his forever mate without a second thought. 

He continues reading, not wanting to get too lost in thought about you- despite loving every image of you he had popping into his head. He came across a few paragraphs explaining how mates are bonded, and frowns as he scrolls through. 

“Mates have to be bonded through a claiming bite while-” he blushes, swallowing slowly as he reads the process it takes to make someone yours completely in his species lifestyle. Could he really do that to you? Sink his teeth into you and breed you so full you’ll never leave his home again? Make you his and his alone?

“Hey! You find anything?” you ask while flopping next to him, turning your phone off as you turn to face him. “I could only find some sibling bonds and what not.Maybe you’re just having a bad day? Or, maybe that scorpion Bakugo finally rubbed off on you” you joke. 

Izuku nods, hiding his phone in his lap nervously as his wings slowly unfurl from his back. You smell so sweet. It makes his muscles relax, and for a moment he gets so lost in the warmth he forgets to answer you. “Oh! I uh, I'm still scrolling! You know me, I have to get every detail” he lied. 

He can’t tell you what he found. There’s no way you’d let him, love and bonding for your kind is so much more different, so much less brutal and intense. No, he plans to mark you, make you give in and take him as yours forever, but he has to hide that beast within. 

For now, anyway. 

“Hey, how about we take a break and I cook you something? Consider it an apology dinner for earlier” he half jokes, beginning to stand. His eyes turn angry when you begin to deny him, about to insist that you aren’t hungry. Before you can turn him down, he cages you in, his face mere centimeters from yours. 

“I won’t let you go hungry…Heh, what kind of friend would I be if I couldn’t provide for you and feed you? “ he bit out, barely hiding it behind a smile. You just nod slowly, not sure what to say about the odd display, clutching your phone tightly until he backs away. 

“Good! Just stay right there, ok? If you need something let me get it for you! Got it?”. 

You just nod again, watching as he walked towards the kitchen to begin cooking. Izuku just growls lowly at himself for letting his instincts take over so quickly, making a fool of himself. It seems hiding this beastly side of him will be a tougher fight than he thought. 

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

It’s hot. Too unbearably hot. He still feels as if he’s asleep as he gets up to walk, maybe cool off outside for a bit before heading back to bed. 

His eyes are closed as he rolls over, but they snap open when he feels a body next to him. He peers over to see who on earth could be sharing a bed with him, and he becomes overly ecstatic to see that it’s you. 

Wait. This doesn’t seem right, these sheets don’t feel like his own and the painting if the room doesn’t match the interior of his. Izuku slowly starts piecing together what had occurred, and undoubtedly he sleptwalked into your abode. 

It seems his instincts have a stronger hold on him when he isn’t awake. He should feel upset, frightened that he has no control over himself, but he’s not. He’s simply content laying next to you, inhaling that intoxicating scent, his wings wanting to unfurl and shudder from the bliss it brings. 

That heat comes back, and he sees that the unbearable warmth was because his inner primal mind was begging to come out. To take what was rightfully his. 

He should leave, he shouldn’t be here while you’re at your most vulnerable, he needs to try and quietly leave and forget this ever occurred. But…what if he just had a little taste? Something to tide him over and to get his shit together. 

His species marks and claims when mating, they’re intense and some might even say brutal. So, if he just eased his way into this, stole a simple taste, perhaps he could train himself to be more in control, less instinct controlled. 

He creeps closer to your sleeping form, mouth watering as he sees the exposed skin of your shoulder, teasing and taunting him. His tongue comes to lap at your warm flesh, and once he gets a taste, his mind goes blank.

He doesn’t remember anything, he wakes up feeling a deep satisfaction as he curls tighter around whatever it is between his arms, possessively squeezing. A hiccup causes him to wake up fully, and his stomach sinks when he sees what had happened. 

You’re covered in marks, bites and red splotches where he incessantly sucked on your skin. “Oh no” he gasped, seeing the tears in your terrified eyes as you roll away and shove him to the floor. 

“You-Izuku…Are you back to me?”

“I'm me! I'm me, I'm so sorry oh God-What happened?” he asked hastily, praying he didn’t do the unthinkable and hurt you beyond repair. You sniffle and wipe your eyes as you sit up more, taking a moment to breathe. 

“You just…Kept biting and clawing at me, and you looked like you were angry when I tried to get away. I think you wanted me dead or maybe...Maybe you slept-walked and saw me as a predator to fight? I’m not too torn up it was just…You kept biting and hissing about odd things”

Izuku swallows down the actual reason his lips were on you, knowing it’ll only make you hate him even more. He can’t have that, he won’t lose you just because he can’t control himself. He’ll play along with this story, he’ll do whatever it is you think he needs to do. 

But he won’t let you leave him. 

“Fuck. I'm sorry, I wasn’t even awake! I need to get to the bottom of why I’m like this. The last Thing I want to do is hurt my ma-” he paused, swallowing nervously. “My most important friend”. 

You just nod, looking away as you cover up a bit more. “I’ll ask some of the other wasp species what they know…Maybe even a scorpion, seeing as they love to be in everyone's business” you half joked, wanting to lighten the mood. 

Izuku slowly stands back up, feeling guilty he scared you so bad. A good mate wouldn’t let you be scared of anything, most importantly themselves. He needs to fix this, find a way to get himself together and keep you beside him. 

“Let me make this up to you ok?” he starts, suddenly becoming jealous of imagining all the other species and possible mates alike that you’d have to talk to today. No. No he’ll take care of this. You should just stay here, rest, and cover yourself in more of his scent. 

“You should just rest up here, I’ll do the searching and deep diving ok? I think they’d be more accepting to talk to me anyway. You know, since they see humans as either mate material to constantly flirt with or a meal to devour”. 

You smile a bit, seeing how upset and worried your friend had become “Humans flirt back just as bad, and if I remember correctly, some of us humans eat bugs encased in candy…so I suppose we’re more alike than given credit for”. 

Fair point. But his decision still stands. “True, but this is the least I can do for you. Just let me do the research today, and you rest up, eat good, and maybe beat me with a stick when I get back” he joked, his chest warming when you smiled at him and laughed. 

“Alright, I guess. Just be careful and text me every bit of information you get ok? I want to help you out, you’re my best friend Izuku”. 

“Yeah, same here. I think I’d go crazy if anything happened to you” he said softly, beginning to itch from not being able to just wrap around you and smother himself in your scent. He needed to get up and go, before things get worse. 

Who knows what will happen if he gives in once again? 

(Hi! I hope you beans enjoy this! It was fun! -Mommabean) 

Hello! 😄👋🏻 how’s it going out there? this is- uhh- uh 🫥 we need help 😀 this is- uhh 🫥 we are counsellors at hackett’s 🤔 quarry 🤔 summer camp 😄👍🏻 and there’s been a horrible accident 😰 - attack - some stuffs. bad. here. 😬 we need your help 😀🤲🏻 there is a swarm 🐝 of bears 🐻😐 and they are evvverrryywhere 🫠 there’s these hunters too 😳 they seem to be shooting at the bears 🧐 but also at us? 🤨 um which is not good 🫡❌ and a few of our friends are hurt 😔 and um we’re in desperate need of help 😀 so please- imeantheres VICIOUS 👹 BEARS 🐻❗️and uhhh 🫥 weeee don’t know what to do 🙃 so please? 😇😭 come help us 🙏🏻 SOS 🆘 this is an emergency 🚨 S- Savee ourr ship? 🤔🚢 comee onn down 🤪🤩 pleasehelpus 😀👍🏻

jacob custos at hackett's quarry for the final day!~

heart: broken car: destroyed tits, ass, and jacussy: out

Travis sending Chris pictures of animals/creatures he sees throughout the day.

And it's just like

*picture of snail*

Travis: Snail

ryan, for some reason, upon meeting a stranger with an eyepatch, a gun, and a long backstory that includes seeing her boyfriend (who she is still very much in love with) turn into a werewolf and take her eye out

I'm into yandere content

But not the yandere where they'll hurt their darling

The protective yandere that might possibly kidnap darling because the world is too dangerous

But not the yandere that will kidnap and deprive darling of almost everything

The yandere that will subtly condition their darling to depend on them and only them

But not the yandere that will threaten their darling making darling scared of them

You guys get me?

The Visit

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Pantalone x Female! Reader

✂ Word Count: 1,6k+

✂ Warnings: -

[Edited]

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission. Please reblog so other people can see my stories!

***

I thought Pantalone would be a beardy old man, and… well, I’m not really wrong thankfully. He is old, probably ancient too. His smile reminds me of both Azul from twst and Ayato, but at least he’s the hottest among them imo.

Keep reading

Renren, he is so CUTE!!! XD

really didn’t like this drawing so i made it a meme ♡

Heyy!! Could I get some HCs for Jacob and Kaitlyn and someone else of your choice (separately ofc) having an S/O who’s like really tall? I just see like A LOT of fics with the reader being short yk?

If not tho that’s totally okay too :) sorry for any spelling errors English isn’t my first language

Your English is completely fine don't worry! While I don't like to use physical indicators most of the time I'm happy to do this one :) I'm sorry I didn't have many ideas but I tried not to make things too cliche or stereotypical

Kaitlyn

look, everyone is taller than Kaitlyn so pretty much everyone she dates is the same.

I hc Kaitlyn as someone that's mostly ok with her height, but as soon as someone she likes starts to tease her about it she loses it

you once tried to use her as a headrest for your arm, her resulting fury was enough that you never tried again.

however, when it comes to cuddles (even if she won't admit it) she adores being wrapped up in you. Likes to sit with her back against your chest as your head rests on top of hers.

Kaitlyn likes to maintain the facade of independence but secretly, very deep down she really likes it when you can reach things for her.

she really likes wearing your clothes, ultimate hoodie thief and half your shirts end up becoming her pyjamas

you have to lean down so far for kisses it causes back issues, even if she’s sitting on your lap your poor neck has to bend a ridiculous amount. This happens so often you start demanding massages as payment

Jacob

not used to people being taller than him at all

 I see him as someone that is initially a little unsure about dating someone taller than him, he’s always been the tallest after all. But that quickly changes and I think of all the counsellors he would be one of the ones to enjoy it the most.

 Cuddles become one of his most looked forward to events, the two of you switch it up a lot but you introduce him to the world of being the little spoon and mans is gone. It’s one of his favourite cuddle positions and after a particularly bad day he absolutely adores collapsing against you as you wrap your long limbs around him like an octopus.

Forehead kisses become a staple of his life, having to lean up/down so much causes too much of a strain if your standing so you just started to leave little pecks here and there and now he absolutely cannot sleep as well without his forehead kisses :(

you also give him your clothes, he’s defs used to being the one getting clothes stolen and he gets all warm and fuzzy when you force your hoodies onto him. They smell like you and yeah he definitely gets the hype now.

Max

He’s the most casual with the height difference, not really caring in the slightest. He doesn’t care what size or shape you are he just loves you.

That being said he is another person that thrives with a taller partner

You are his personal jungle gym, your lap: his seat of choice, your chest: prime pillow. Max absolutely hangs off of you at every opportunity. He definitely demands piggyback rides at all opportunities.

Another clothes thief, likes your clothes more than his, they’re so comfy and cosy.

If the two of you are out together he definitely uses your height to intimidate other people.

He’s the one flexing on every social media platform he has, boasting about how great you are and how perfectly he fits against your side. The two of you prompt a lot of ‘screaming, crying throwing up’ comments.

Taglist: @laurakearnxy @wolfsquad @rainbows-dreams @kestisvrse @aaetherr699 @jjkk1m @ghostverz @askeirkxkex @homebyeleven @infamousvampcx @seafoamfellyy @innergardentoadponyy @aspendvd @sheriff-hackett @thebookbakery @1kaitlvr @damndirtylitch @g0th1ka

practice making reference sheets with a design i made for dnd! dm had us make npcs that turned out to be disguises for our characters… the campaign is set in the 60s so i made a concertgoer bard minotaur

One of the most common reasons I hear for people being against abortion is because “life is sacred.”

Really? Since when? When has life ever been sacred in this country?

If life is sacred, how come we don’t have universal healthcare?

If life is sacred, how come we don’t pass comprehensive gun laws so first graders don’t get gunned down in their classrooms?

If life is sacred, why don’t we offer paid maternal leave so mothers can actually take care of the babies that you are now forcing them to have?

If life is sacred, how come we don’t bat an eye when the police murder black kids?

If life is sacred, why do we have the highest maternal death rate in the developed world, which is only going to increase now that women are being forced to give birth?

If life is sacred, why is the death penalty even still a thing?

If life is sacred, why are we still encouraging violence against the LGBTQ+ community?

Life has literally never been sacred in this country. Maybe anti-choicers like to pretend that it is because it makes them feel righteous when in reality, they’re just misogynistic pieces of shit, but it’s not. And as long as psychotic, reactionary morons continue to steal power undemocratically and make decisions that the majority of us do not want, it never will be.

“Uh, there is a swarm of bears and they are everywhere!”

! EMERGENCY COMMISSIONS !

my dad's business isn't faring so well, so i'm opening up writing commissions to try earning some cash. you can commission me through ko-fi (linked here). info on commissions will be posted underneath the cut, but the same info is also available on the commissions tab of my ko-fi.

note: if you would like to simply donate to ko-fi, that would also be highly appreciated!

Commission Instructions:

I will need a detailed description of what you are looking for. This includes the character(s), the fandom, a specific scenario or concept, and any themes that might trigger you.

!!Note!! I do NOT write: explicit suicide, drugging, dd/lg, self-harm, omegaverse, underage, incest, smut I DO write: soft yandere, non-yandere, x reader content, horror, slight gore, oc content, oc x reader content

Fandoms I write for:

Genshin Impact

Twisted Wonderland

The Arcana

Tokyo Manji Revengers

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I am all for yandere single dad!

Not sure if this counts BUT, a yandere dad that ends up falling for the nanny his wife hired to watch their daughter.

A well off business man, finely tailored suit, who's been stuck in a dead marriage with a woman he can't stand.

Although he adores his daughter he rarely has time for her because of his highly demanding job. To make matters worse, her supposed "mother", if you even call her that, doesn't give her the time of day and constantly ignores her

He didn't think his life would turn out like this.

In their college days, he and wife then girlfriend, had been dating for a year before he finally decided to end things after having grown sick of her demanding and entitled attitude.

However, when he tried to break up with her, she announced she was pregnant with his child. Of course he had his doubts and demanded a paternity test. Instead she went behind his back and told his parents.

Both their families were very conservative and had high standings in their communities. So as to save face, they pressured him into marrying her so as to not cause a scandal. So under threat of disownment by his family and the chance of his reputation being ruined for being considered a man who abandoned his child after getting a woman pregnant. He craved and agreed.

The first few years were decent. Despite, the way they got to together, he tried to make the relationship work but it soon became clear she had no interest in that.

As soon as his daughter was old enough to do certain things on her own, his wife stopped wanting anything to do with her. Instead preferring to go out with her friends, shopping and partying as if she was still a single 19 year old college girl.

The few times she isn't out spending large amounts out his money, she sitting at home doing nothing but watching TV or online. All while completely ignoring her daughter.

If that was bad enough, he's pretty sure she been cheating on him. She's constantly going out dressed to the nines in makeup and expensive clothes. She always on her phone and keeps it locked when she's not. And has been very distant as of the past few years.

He has thought about just divorcing her and finding someone else but nothing ever really came of that idea.

He grew up with the idea that divorce was a sin and once a person makes those vows, you can't ever break. Though that wasn't his true concern. His main worry was losing his daughter.

His wife was a vindictive woman who surely do anything in her power to make his life a living hell if he dared divorce her. And that included using their daughter as a mean to hurt him.

The court were they lived had tenancy to reward majority custody to the mother, even if the father is more suitable to raise the child. And knowing his wife, she'd probably claim he was abusive to her and their daughter, which would grant her a higher chance of gaining full custody. And didn't want to risk losing his daughter to her neglectful mother.

So, her surmised it would be better to wait until his daughter was 18 to divorce his wife.

However, things changed when you entered the picture.

A nanny hired by his wife to watch their daughter for a few hours while she was out.

He remembers coming home that day and finding you there in the living room playing with his daughter.

Of course he was shocked and asked what you were doing in his house, but after explaining the situation, he was left furious! His had life their daughter with a complete stranger without bothering to consult him first!?

His anger only grew when you tell him you were only supposed to watch his daughter for a couple of hours, but his wife had been gone all day and no matter how many times you tried to call her, she wouldn't answer her phone.

She didn't even tell you how to reach him or give you a list of things rules for the young girl. She just shoved her daughter on you and told you to watch her. Didn't even pay you before hand. You didn't feel comfortable leaving such a young child by alone, so you stayed and waited for the father to come home.

Feeling bad for you, he decided to just pay you for your trouble and let you go home.

However, when you tried to leave, his daughter grabbed onto your leg and started crying, saying she didn't want you to leave.

This shocked both of you and he tried to convince his daughter to let go of you to no avail. Eventually he asked if you wanted a job watching his daughter during the week days while he and his wife are out, promising to pay you a high amount. Not seeing an issue with that you agreed.

Over the course of a few months, he slowly begins realize he's developed feelings for you.

You're so kind and attentive with his daughter. Always willing to play with her or help her with homework. You even worry about her safety and comfort her when she hurts herself. He sees how his daughter's eyes light up when you arrive. How she come running towards you wanting a hug and you'll happily pick her up and spin her around.

He looks forward to coming home to see you cooking dinner for his daughter and even going as far as making a plate for him.

He hates coming home and seeing his wife there instead of you. He goes resentful of his wife to the point he can't even look at her without feeling disgust and anger.

You should be his wife, not this selfish, leech of a woman. You're the one he was meant to marry, not that wh#re that forced into this sham of a marriage only to open her legs the second someone new comes around.

Surely, you think this way too. All he needs to do is get rid of the parasite taking your place. It'd be so easy too. it's not as if anyone would miss her, she's widely hated by their neighbors and even her own friend group.

The only people he has to worry about is her awful family, but that's not an issue. He can just make it look like an accident and hold a funeral for their families. It'll be the last time they see his daughter. He has no plans of letting them continue to be in their lives after he marries you. And if they become a problem he'll gladly let them join their daughter in hell. The same goes for his parents.

His parents will undoubtedly cause a ruckus about him remarrying soon after his wife's passing, especially with someone they don't approve of. But his parents have controlled his life long enough and it's time for them to understand who has the true say in the family.

Aw he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous white dress on your wedding day. Surely you won't refuse right? After all his daughter will be so sad to see you leave again. You're already a perfect parent to her and he can easily support you with his salary, so you won't even need to work!

There's no reason to say no~

(GOODNESS I loved this and decided to make a little scenario on how I think he got the whole idea for marrying you in the first place. It’s a bit of a rough draft but I still like it! I hope you do too!)

Coming home this early was a blessing he hardly got to enjoy. Usually when he came home at all there was hardly a hello from the woman he called his wife, and dinner was something a day or two old in the fridge.

Today, however, he was pleasantly stunned. You stood there over the stove while his baby girl giggled beside you, adding what looked like food coloring to a batch of batter. Now, what on earth could you two possibly be up too?

A nanny cooking with a child isn’t odd, not in the least. But something about this was different, more domestic and wholesome than just a paid worker bonding with the child they look after. Especially when you gave him that sweet, welcoming look over your shoulder when he announced his arrival.

“Oh! Hello! Sorry I didn’t hear you- we were-“ you were happily cut off by his daughter, who clapped her hands excitedly. “Daddy! Come look! We made silly pancakes!”

He chuckled, walking over as he places his keys down. He watched as you flipped the green pancake over and slid it onto a plate, where his daughter happily added a fistful of sprinkles and handed it to him.

You give a playful smirk and point to her “I think she might be the best chef in the house. Why have me cook when she’s a five star chef?”

He laughed with you and set the plate aside, picking up his daughter to give her a kiss on the head. “I wouldn’t normally approve of pancakes for dinner but…hmm…since you’re such an artist, Daddy can let it slide”.

You all smile and get ready for dinner as he tells you about his day. You genuinely listen, setting his plate down as you sit beside him and ask follow up questions even. While you two chat and talk, he feels so relaxed and even, dare he say loved. This dinner feels like such a dream, until his daughter makes a mess with syrup on the table and starts to tear up.

You give her a worried look and hush her softly, asking what the matter was. “It was an accident sweetie. You aren’t in trouble at all! We’ll get you cleaned up and get back to eating ok?”.

She sniffles and nods her head, wiping her eyes as she looks at her daddy. “I-I just…mommy yells at me for t-things like that and-and I didn’t wanna-“ she continues to get upset, and watching as you coax her down and soothe her made him both relived and upset.

Of course his wife would be like that. Always yelling and belittling people over the smallest of things, making everything a show of drama. She couldn’t even bother to be home and be an actual part of the family, to cook or simply be there for their daughter when she’s learning and growing and needing a person to bond with.

He’s had enough. He’s had enough for years now but now things are finally becoming more clear.

You’re meant to be there, meant to be by his side and help this family finally heal and become normal. In just the two hours of being around you today, he’s felt more of a family bond than the nearly ten years hes been married to that parasite.

He says nothing as he stands in the doorway of the restroom, eyes protectively watching over his daughter and you. Someone so kind and gentle, nurturing and loving. To think he let his daughter be starved of this, to be scarred for so long.

He won’t let this mistake go on any longer.

But papers and money won’t get rid of the disease that is his wife. She’ll go down fighting and might even take the person he adores the most away, leaving him torn apart.

The plan can be made later on when he’s in bed. For now, he thinks, he’ll help wash up his daughter so you all can get back to dinner and story time. “See princess? Nothing bad at all. All cleaned up and ready for more special pancakes!”.

“Silly pancakes” you both correct, you with a knowing smile that he pronounced it wrong on purpose. He gives a shrug, barley hiding his grin “nah, pretty sure I heard you the first time. Special pancakes with princess sprinkles”.

His daughter giggles and hugs his leg, looking up at him “you’re so silly daddy”. He bends down to pick her up, carrying her with one arm as he looks at your smile.

This feels so right. So warm and welcoming. It hurts him to know that you aren’t tied to him- to THIS. You’ll have to leave the house soon, go to your own home where you’re own life is. God, he wants to just keep you here and never let you go! You’re such a bright beacon of light in what this nightmare has become!

While you chat with his daughter at the table, he can’t help but let his eyes admire your fingers. They have no ring, and his wedding band would look perfect on you. Making a statement that you belonged to him. That he loved you and wouldn’t break that sanctity for anything in the world.

He can’t wait to tear the ring off of his soon to be missing wife. He’ll have to sneak your ring size off of you somehow, but the wait will be worth it. This time, he knows he’s doing the right thing.

And he won’t let someone as good as you leave him.

-Mommabean (please tell me what you think! ❤️)

Adolf von Becker (1831 - 1909) - The Cat on the Pillow. Oil on canvas.