men's clutch

Post-recall
  • McCree: It's been years since I've seen him. And we were part of a pretty bad chapter together. There's no way I'm still hung up on him. Only a right fool would be hung up over a fella for years like that.
  • Genji: Jesse! It's been so long! How are you doing?
  • McCree, still in love: I'm feeling like one hell of a fool right now. How about you?

look man say what you want about this scene but holy shit how strong is eren

Sons of a Thunder Storm

Modern!Reader x Ragnarssons’

Based on this thread


AN: The translation is probably not accurate but I did my best xD Also I did not intend this part to be so long.

Thank you to my sister wives for all the ideas, in part 2 the boys learn about TV, the internet and just get into a lot of trouble.

Translation:

Hvat ef vera á? - What is going on

Hverr þú  - Who’re you



“No.” You groaned as your car made a pitiful clunking sound and started slowly rolling to a stop, glancing at your dead phone. “Why now?” You groaned. The sky cracked and the sound of thunder echoed around the field next to you.

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Party Like A Stark

Originally posted by sexy-stan

Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Part (6/6)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Summary: Your 19th birthday party was a memorable one and maybe the best one yet.  One of the best things that came out of the party was Peter.  There’s definitely something budding between the two of you, but will it last?

Warnings: Cursing, angst, some violence, mention of past abuse, and SMUT!!!

Masterlist

AN: hey guys so this is the last chapter and it’s hella long! I stayed up till 3:40 AM to write this before I go on vacation tomorrow! I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter (also it’s quite long) bc I worked really hard and stayed up for this! Also I hope you enjoyed the mini fic! I know I definitely did!  and for what you all have been waiting for, PETER PARKER SMUT!!

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Joseph Christiansen wears Giorgio Armani cologne. You know, the nautically-themed one in the frosted glass bottle that topless men clutch to their chest while waves artistically crash against their backs? That’s it.

Holding it together

Pairing: Naruhina

Rating: T (violence and Angst to Comfort)

Summary: Boruto is mad at his father who is always away and he decides to run away from home. Soon he finds himself surrounded by enemies and no one around to help. Can his parents save him in time?

A/N: kjuubi, erimonogatari, and I were discussing Naruhina headcannons and I had all these fluffy ones, but noooo Jade had to come up with horrible Angst that destroyed our hearts and that’s where this gem came from. Blame her for all of this! She plans to draw a comic based off this soon so look out for that ;D

Hinata felt a tugging on her dress and looked down to find her young son frowning at her. She placed the dish she was cleaning down and turned to give him her full attention wiping off her hands on a towel. She normally would have kneeled down to look him in the eye but her distended stomach made that nearly impossible so she settled for sitting down at the kitchen table bringing him with her and sitting him on the table.

“What is it sweetie?”

“Where’s daddy?” It took an effort, but she was able to keep a smile on her face. Their son was a daddy’s boy through and through, and it was getting harder to explain to him that he was busy. Being Hokage wasn’t an easy job for Naruto, and he couldn’t be home as often as they would have liked, and it was starting to affect Boruto negatively.

“We talked about this honey, he has to take care of all the people of Konoha so he can’t be home as much as he used to,” The explanation did nothing to appease her son and he started puckering his lip. This was going to be a hard day she could already tell. Her precious son was going to be moody all day.

“I wanted him to teach me some techniques today!” He swung his little fist down and if he were standing up he surely would have stomped his foot. She knew her child like the back of her hand.

“What did you want him to show you? Maybe mommy can help you.” She smiled softly at him but he shook his head rapidly. She suppressed a sigh; he was as stubborn as somebody else she knew. Once his mind was set there, was no changing it.

“It has to be Dad! It’s his specialty,” Faster than she could react he jumped off the table and ran out the door. She watched as he ran across their backyard and into the woods out of her sight. Her old instincts kicked up, and she instantly felt dread wash through her. She took a deep breath and let it out, they were no longer in a war, that had long passed and these were times of peace, but still she worried about her son’s safety. She couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

She bit her lip. To chase after him, or to leave him alone to work through his emotions, which would benefit him more? She stood up and walked towards the glass looking out at the sky. She saw only a serene blue sky spotted with puffy white clouds, but still she couldn’t shake the feeling of alarm for her child. She clutched the curtains and released them coming to a decision. She put on her shoes and walked out the door following after him.

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Jokers Daughter Headcanons: Jealousy

Request: (anonymous) Can I request headcanons for Joker being a really over the top insanely jealous dad with CP dating and boys around her?

  • Joker sits dead eyed in the club watching the men in the crowd, clutching the top of his cane so hard his hands might bleed, ready to stop any man that goes near his daughter threatening his alpha male role.
  • When he see’s a man approach her in the club he forces his body in between the two of them knocking the guy out of the way, as he begs Joker for mercy the goons carry him away for the torture session late.
  • Joker carves a smile into the face of a man who was undressing her with his eyes, so he remembers every time he looks in the mirror that he’s not worthy of Joker heir.
  • If he tries to dance up no her all the people see are flashes of his green hair and blood against the lights as he slaughters the guy.
  • He pays his bartender extra to slip arsenic into the drinks any man who makes a move on her orders and the bartender, scared shitless, does as he’s told.
  • During a business meeting he wants her seated right next to him so his mind isn’t distracted with where she could be while he’s working.
  • He likes to keep his hand in her lap while she plays with his bracelets because it has a calming affect on him and signals to the men there who she is.
  • When they’re walking down the street or anywhere in public he always has his hand around her shoulder and holding her firmly next to him so no one grabs her, while showing the world she’s his girl.
  • Harley has to hold him back when they see her talking to a boy, her noticing that her daughter made the first move.
  • The clown princess doesn’t even flinch when she hears gunfire, after growing accustomed to her dad firing right across her out the car window to kill men who catcall her.
  • The goons know not to go near her after one helped her put on a coat and pulled her hair out of the collar to help and Joker slit his throat on the spot. Going crazy at the sight of another person touching his baby’s hair.
  • Joker keeps a loaded, golden AK-47 on one side and his purple knife on the other side as he sits across from the boy who came to pick her up for a date.
  • While his daughter is still getting ready, Joker grabs the boy by the throat and squeezes until he almost passes out, leaving bruises all along his neck just as a taste of what he will do.
  • He doesn’t let them go anywhere without his henchmen following one car behind and his own tracking device put into her phone.
  • When she comes home from her date, Joker kisses her forehead or cheek leaving a red lipstick marl, making sure he was the last man to touch her before bed.
  • Joker catches her sneaking out to the club in her mother’s gold and black dress, he swings his long purple coat around her and picks her up around the waist off her feet and carries her himself to his car.
  • He goes back inside and captures all the men that where watches her dance in the glass box and strings them up in the back like meat, he gouges out their eyeballs and feeds them to each other for thinking they had the right to look at her.
  • If he see’s her looking at a boy she likes he’ll turn her chin gently with his hand to face him so he has her attention, then puts his smile tattoo over her face making her laugh.
  • When a boy sends flowers to the house for her, Joker answers the door and sets them and the delivery person on fire before ordering his own flowers for her three times the size.
  • The clown princess constantly moves her date’s hand off her leg when he’s trying to be romantic, knowing from experience if her dad catches them he’ll cut the boy’s hand off.
  • Without his daughter’s knowledge, Joker finds her boyfriend and puts him through hours of psychological manipulation and interrogation until he cracks. Joker proudly acts as his daughter’s shoulder to cry no as she wonders why the boy ditched their date later on.
  • When she’s out Joker sits on the couch not taking his eyes off his phone or finger off the trigger of his gun, waiting for her to call that something is wrong so he can be her knight in bloody armor there to save the princess.
  • Joker watches her leave the club to jump in the car with him and slamming his head up against the window to get his frustration out when he see’s men’s eyes following her.
  • Joker’s thoughts get the best of him while she’s out one night, he storms her date and carries her away while his goons beat the life out of the boy.
  • He drives her home in the lamborghini thinking he’s rescued her, but notices her crying and feels a shiver run down his spine and an ache in his chest, the most human thing he’s felt.
  • She breaks down about how she wishes she could date and he wasn’t so overbearing, Joker wants to make her happy but absolutely refuses to accept that she’d be any other man but his.
  • He uses his master manipulation to his advantage and takes her to Ace Chemicals, the place where his love Harley was created.
  • He says that he loves her so much that he wants her to have that same love him and her mother share, promising that he only does what he does to the bad men he knows will never treat her the right way and aren’t good enough.
  • As he lies more to her she embraces him in a hug and forgives him, he holds on tight and kisses the top of her head even more prideful that his plan worked. Still the alpha male in her life and never planning to give it up.
Hero: 6

Author’s Note: i meant for this chapter to be so much longer, but it grew so much bigger than i planned so i’ve decided to break it up. why am i like this? anyway, still in love with yixing~~ i hope everyone enjoys this chapter! thank you to everyone who has read/messaged <333

Song for this chapter: Death Bell - ††† (Crosses)

Genre: Vampire!Chanyeol; thriller; horror; suspense; drama; eventual smut

Pairing: Chanyeol x Reader (oc; female)

Rating (this chapter): R

Warnings (this chapter): swearing; references to PTSD

Word Count: 3,762

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11a | 11b

If you were free, where would you go?

If money, time, and distance were inconsequential, what would you see?

If you weren’t about to die, who might you become?

You ask yourself these questions, now in the morning silence as you strain to hear the lapping of waves on shore. They turn in your mind, sending your imagination half across the world and back again, as you think and think of all the ways you are wholly incomplete. Part of you, as you suck on and square away your answers, thinks you should be ashamed. This could be the day you die. These walls may be the last you see, but home is not, and never will be, on your mind.

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The Blue Room

The Blue Room

I’ve had this AU in my brain for awhile, thinking of making it a VERY short story. Here’s part 1

oooOOOooo

It’s a cool and damp night, the kind that makes Vegeta want to go out and cause some mischief. He can’t help but feel his fingers itch with the promise of beating someone bloody and raw until they beg for his mercy. But tonight, he’s feeling a bit lucky. And all he wants is to do is head on down to The Blue Room and cuddle up with a few glasses of whisky and sleep under the thick blanket of jazz. Tonight, he doesn’t want to be a shadow waiting at the end of the alley. Tonight, he wants to pretend that he’s a regular fellow with nothing better to do on a Saturday night.

He’s heard good things from the shore of South City since The Blue Room opened. ‘The best jazz this side of the ocean!’ has rang in his ears more times than he can count, so he decides to head on down and see what the buzz is about. He’s even found his best suit; a sharp number that is known to make the ladies croon in delight and the men move out of his way. It makes him feel powerful, and Vegeta never objects to feeling like a king.

The pale blue lights welcome him as he steps through the doors, the room smoky in a haze of secrets and sex. A smooth piano rift transports him to another place and time, and he looks over to the musician with compliments. He recognizes him immediately. Raditz’s brother. The man who was either too dumb or too smart to join his older brother in one of the most ruthless gangs in the area. Kakarot, if he’s not mistaken. He looks towards Vegeta and nods in understanding, showing that he recognizes him too.

Vegeta turns his head and steps towards the circular bar, sitting quaintly against the deep blue walls of the room. Coconut trees flash in and out behind the bartender, inviting anyone with a strong enough appetite for the dark liquors inside. He takes a stool and scoots up, leaning against the countertop.

“What’ll it be, mister?” The bartender looks like a young boy, Vegeta thinks. But if he’s old enough to sell him a drink without getting the law involved, he won’t complain.

“I’ll start with a Tom Collins,” he demands huskily, fishing in his coat pocket for his wallet, “And make it a double.”

“You got it, mister.” The barteneder’s head is shiny enough that Vegeta can see Kakarot glaring at him from behind. He’s probably wondering if he’ll be up to no good in his establishment. Vegeta smirks; he’s always up to no good.

“Is it your first time here?” The bartender pours the concoction in a glass and slides it over to Vegeta, leaving a trail of spirits in its wake. Vegeta ignores him and presses his mouth to the rim, letting the liquid burn his tongue with delight. The bartender is unperturbed by his mannerisms and keeps talking. “I haven’t seen you around these parts before. You sure picked a special night to visit.”

Vegeta looks up at him, the question why swimming in his eyes like barracudas. He takes another long sip of his drink, resisting the urge to throw the glass against the wall and demand silence. The bartender gets it and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. Vegeta notices for the first time that he doesn’t seem to have a nose.

“Well, it’s her night, after all. The crème de la crème, the dame of South City, the Belle of the ball-”

“Who?” Vegeta asks impatiently. Surely if such a woman existed, he would have ran into her by now. After all, the shores of this city belong to him, and he knows every footprint that marks the sands.

“Oh, wow, you are new,” the man shakes his head, wiping away the mess on the counter. “Everyone knows that she’s the gem of this dump. That’s why we’re so busy tonight especially. Well, you may have come here with ignorance, but you’ll definitely know her name by the time she leaves.”

Vegeta straddles the line of curiosity and not giving a damn. How many little starlets come here to make something of themselves, only to wind up in some drug induced stupor and begging him for a fix? He’s heard this tale before, and he doubts that whoever she is will have an effect on him like the blobbering idiot before him.

That is, until the lights dim down.

In the darkness, Vegeta can taste the lust of the men who’ve clutched their seats a little tighter, turning to the stage and pressing their hands in their tight suits. The smoke from their cigarettes choked him as soon as he entered, but now he’s seeing more ashtrays being passed around and more butts being dumped. “She’s coming out,” the bartender says, licking his lips and abandoning his job. Vegeta looks over his shoulder as a single light illuminates the stage, showcasing a curvy silhouette behind a sheer curtain.

Whistles parade around the room, the men reminding him of a hungry pack of wolves ready to gobble this dame up. He’s disgusted by them, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the sheer curtain and the woman behind it. She’s bent over and running her hands up her shapely legs and he feels his groin twitch as she glides over her thighs. Just as she’s almost in a standing position again, the curtain slides to the left, revealing the most beautiful creature he’s ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on.

Kakarot’s fingers produce a milky string of chords at the piano, a smoke little riff that she’s switching her hips to seductively. He doesn’t notice it, but he’s turned fully around in his chair, completely under her trance. Her hair is the color of the waters of South City, and he doesn’t need to be close to the stage to see the sparkle of her sapphire eyes. Her lips pout into red pillows and she walks towards the mic, a silver little number hugging her figure deliciously. She opens her mouth to speak and he’s already about to sink into the floor.

Her eyes run over the crowd and she smiles. She’s like a little kitten who’s begging to lap up milk, and he’s about to run to the store to get her some. She croons over the piano notes, her voice as soft and sultry as she is.

I’ve got my eyes on a man. A strong kind of man. He’s the kind to leave me under his spell.

It’s almost like she’s purring, this exotic little kitten, with every syllable that escapes her lips.

I want to touch him and see. Will he be good to me? Or leave me to wilt, I can’t tell.

“What’s her name?” He asks the bartender with urgency. His mouth is salivating and he drinks more of his liquor to stop himself from drooling.

He’s like whisky and smoke. If I’m not careful, I’ll choke. But mama didn’t teach me well.

“Bulma,” the bartender says her name like it’s oxygen, and Vegeta plays with it over his tongue. He likes the way it smooths out his mouth like marble.

I wonder what he’ll do. When I tell him the truth. How I’m completely under his spell.

She shimmies her shoulders and rolls her hips smoothly, earning a mixture of applause and whistles from the crowd. She’s walking down the stage, singing and flirting with the men who’ve moved their seats, giving her a center aisle.

A center aisle that is leading directly towards him.

She notices him sitting against the bar, his demeanor quiet unlike the chaos around him. She’s interested, he can tell. She further proves this by walking towards him slowly, making each step her own show. Vegeta can’t take his eyes away from her thick hips or the sparkling fabric. Everything about her screams of an orgasm.

He’s too hot for the touch. But I need him so much. Oh, boy, what’s a lady to do?

She’s getting close enough that he can taste whatever perfume she’s doused herself in for the night. Her blue curls are electric, like lightning in the middle of a rain storm, and they bounce against her shoulders as she approaches. He runs his eyes up to her breasts. Even through the material of her dress, they look like the softest satin he’s never touched.

Is he ready for me?

She runs a finger in between the cutout of her dress, lightly touching her breasts, and he can feel the goosebumps on his own chest.

Is it possible? Can it be?

She’s close enough to reach out and touch him, and she takes his hand and curls it around her back, making him push her in between his legs. She looks down on him and smiles, running her fingers through his hair. Vegeta is trapped. He knows she can smell the desire pouring from his skin. Her fingers are like the skin of ghosts, and he shivers every time they touch his skin. She runs one finger across his lips and leans in close, and he can taste the peppermint that she most recently ate.

That I’ve got him under my spell, too.

Before she turns and leaves, she squeezes his hand, slowly removing her warm thighs from his own. He wants to squeeze her in his legs and taste her skin, see if the kitten is as good as she smells. Instead, he’s cruelly exposed to the smoke of the bar again, and he can only watch her plump behind sashay back to the stage, finding other saps to toy with. He bites down his lips in jealousy; she shouldn’t be touching anyone else but him. How could she want to anyways?

She looks at him again over her shoulder before she steps up the stage and smiles challengingly. He thinks to himself that she’s either the smartest woman alive or the dumbest to look at him like that. His cock twitches with his wild imagination. He finishes his drink as she finishes her song, the sheer curtain covering her again.

Vegeta vows, with absolute certainty, that he will have her by the end of the night.

oooOOOooo

Like I said, a very short story of only 3-4 parts, and I’ll probably only post this on Tumblr for the time being.

Title: “The Spooky Truth with Dr. Jones,” (½)

Summary: Emma Swan is a podcaster looking for a semi-interesting story. Dr. Killian Jones is a paranormal investigator who doesn’t believe in the paranormal. Emma Swan absolutely does not want to write this story—but it seems to be writing itself. A CS Black Tapes AU.

Notes: This delightful little AU was 100% inspired by The Black Tapes, a seriously awesome fictional horror podcast that you can listen to for free. Which you should. Right now. I’d like to thank and/or notify a # of awesome people who helped with this: @seastarved @zengoalie @ofshipsandswans @abbadons-little-witch @the-reason-to-sail-home @businesscasualprincess @swanandapirate (who also wrote a podcast AU, so if you like this, you should probably check it out). Also on Ao3.


+ Honestly, the worst thing about this job is the constant threat of, “You have a face too pretty for radio,” every time she has to conduct an interview with some bland fuck-boy that the country has suddenly decided is worth her time. If not for the occasionally tedious subject matter and overeager interviewees, it would be damn near perfect.

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I am not suggesting this as a No-Prize but kind of something which might be a nice explanation for something which has often been criticized in Spider-Man’s history.

See in the first two Venom stories Venom himself was a pretty sadistic kind of guy. 

Whilst this didn’t entirely disappear after these two initial stories from his third appearance (the first time Erik Larsen handled the character) onwards we began a transitioning to the infamous ‘Lethal Protector’ version of Venom.

Venom began to have legitimate displays of heroism, notably rescuing a baby from danger and later in Amazing Spider-Man #375 he even saved Peter’s parents and his own ex-wife. 

This was accompanied by Venom claiming he had a great sense of honour such as him swearing he’d never harm Aunt May despite both threatening and seemingly attempting to do that in the earlier Venom stories such as the one above.

That last panel is also important because it represents another shift in the narrative wherein Peter was at times used as a mouthpiece to play up the idea that Venom wasn’t all that bad. In the third Venom story Spider-Man even outright says Brock has a strong if twisted sense of honour and later claims that he cannot allow Brock to die because deep down he is just a screwed up guy.

Granted you could argue Spider-Man might not have been displaying outright sympathy for Brock here so much as his usual tendency to try and avoid people dying. He has after all attempted to save even Doc Ock’s life on a few occasions. that being said I think it is highly likely that the authorial intention was to paint Brock in a more sympathetic light. This perhaps reached its zenith in the original Carnage storyline where Venom teams up with Spidey in order to save innocent people from Carnage, who’s character made Brock’s look much nicer by comparison.

Further evidence of this shift was provided in back up stories depicting flashback tales in which Venom is played as an outright heroic, or at least heroic but willing to commit violence to reach his goals. One such story happens in between ASM #315 and #316 where the Brock was travelling to New York and at a truck stop encountered a group of thugs.

We also saw Spider-Man act far more fearful of Venom than he had been in Venoms first two stories. He seemed more prone to trying to run away from venom rather than confront him.

In ASM #362  he even outright states he left Venom on a deserted island specifically because he was afraid of him.

Spider-Man’s fear, his greater tolerance for Venom and Venom’s more heroic side have been the subject of much criticism since their inception.

Whilst I could probably come up with in-universe explanations for how and why those changes make sense, I want to throw out what you could call a theory but what I call an idea I’d implement if I had creative control of the franchise.

Essentially in the second Venom story Peter beat Eddie Brock by tricking the symbiote into attempting to abandon the latter to bond with Peter. The shock and strain of this attempted separation caused Brock to be knocked out.

As you can see from the above the strain of the symbiote attempting to separate from Brock and bond with Peter causes pain to both men. Specifically Peter is clutching his head and when the symbiote slithers off of him we can see it has covered part of his head, mostly his mouth.

My proposal?

The symbiote through being in contact with Peter and Brock simultaneously created a mental link between the two of them.

Through this mental link Peter got blasted with some of the symbiote and Brock’s thoughts and feelings, mostly about how they hate him and want to kill him. On the flipside Brock got blasted with some of Peter’s thoughts and feelings.

Since Brock was the true host of the symbiote at the time and was more strongly attached to it the process hit him harder. We sort of see evidence of this in the fact that it is Brock who is rendered unconscious by the bonding whilst Peter recovers more quickly.

 

Because of this process Brock and the symbiote held some of Peter’s heroic and altruistic traits within their subconscious. The symbiote in particular would’ve gotten a double dose of this because of course it had already bonded with Peter and it was from him that it first learned rudimentary human emotions. Peter’s altruism and heroism and instinct to help others in the twisted mind of Brock/the symbiote/Venom manifested itself in Venom’s gradually increasing heroic streak from that point onwards. It was the fact that Brock’s mind had, however briefly or indirectly, touched Spider-Man’s that caused him to rescue that baby, to eventually strive to protect innocents regularly. However because Venom’s mind was so twisted and his desire to kill Spider-Man so strong he still prioritized that and still went about trying to help others through violent methods. On some level Peter was kind of in his head urging him to do good so he did, but his mind was still his own.

For Peter’s part touching the mind of Brock and the symbiote wouldn’t have affected him on a fundamental level but would cause him to act differently whenever they encountered one another.

His greater sympathy for Brock would be because on some level he felt the same feelings Brock and the symbiote felt about themselves and how they saw themselves. Without realizing it he’d begun sympathizing more with Brock because he’d subconsciously remembered what it was like being Eddie Brock, even though Brock had a warped perception of reality.

On the flipside though by senseing their visceral hatred and violent inclinations towards him Peter’s already not unsubstantiated fear of Venom would increase. Whilst he previously knew Venom despised him and wanted him dead now he subconsciously was recalling exactly what they wanted to do him and the strong urges they had to harm him. Which then manifested in a fight or flight series of behaviours wherein he was more fearful of Venom than he had been before.

There is even kind of a little precedence for this in the mostly crappy Paul Jenkins Venom story ‘The Hunger’ from Spectacular Spider-Man volume 2 #1-5.

Crashing Parties & Taking Numbers

Steve Rogers x OFC

Warnings: language

A/N: This is a commissioned story for @jasmineladjevardi , who I love and adore. Enjoy! Commissions are open!

Summary: Jasmine decides to crash a charity party, because there is a first time for everything. What she wasn’t counting on was the fact the party was a Hydra funded event and a certain Captain was there doing some undercover intel. 

Originally posted by lovelynemesis

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if these walls could talk

“Well they’d be like, shit is crazy right?”

stories about how the Byers survived, even before there was Eleven, even before there was Hopper, and how they manage to keep surviving altogether in the same house with talking lights and walls…

peeks out of my little anxiety hole. so I guess i have some explaining to do. This past semester I got really really sick. I was in the hospital for about 6 weeks and only now am I ready to try this again. I’m trying to wade through a shallow pool, then I’ll tackle the deep end.

While I was in the hospital though, i met some pretty amazing people from all different types of backgrounds, and their stories have inspired me to start writing my own again. This series will be inspired by different things people said to me in the last month.

I’ll eventually get back to the mileven stuff, and there will be some of it in here, but a lot of it will exploring the Byers and Joyce’s history. Also, I really wanted to jump on the Will/El bro-sis relationship bandwagon.


“He was just lucky it wasn’t his face.”

“Uh-huh, whatever you say Joyce.” Hopper said, pinching his nose and letting out a long drawn out sigh before handing Joyce a cold pack of melting ice cubes and damp paper towels. “I just hope it was worth it.” He muttered and landed with an umph next to her on the couch.

“I don’t get it. Dad was here and you just hit the wall?” Jonathan asked. Sitting next to him, Will slumped deeper in his seat, as if he was making his best attempt to disappear from the room. His face, so like Jonathan’s, wore the opposite expression, his eyebrows creased in shame and Jonathan’s brow furrowed and fists clenched in anger.

“This isn’t your fault, Will.” Eleven wanted to tell him, so very desperately. He hadn’t even been home when Lonnie showed up and Lonnie was long gone by the time Hopper, Jonathan and Will came running through the door, arms full of party supplies.

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Immortals (Part 1 - Reaper76)

Part 2 (avaliable soon)

Description: A brave yet foolish hunter falls into the hands of an ancient vampire despite the warnings the blood moon heeded. Jack pays for his folly with his life, and awakens a vampire. (Vampire!AU, Reaper76, Halloween story)

Rating: M (some gore and distressing scenes, and sexual content)


The blood moon signified many things for the supernatural. Werewolves took the blood moon as the sign for the annual hunt to begin, where humans were turned, and beasts of the forests taken from their thrones. The witch performed many dark rituals, the magic surrounding them like a shroud was enhanced when bathed in the glow of the velvet red moonlight. For vampires, the rays of the moon sent them into a frenzy. An insatiable lust for blood and a thrill for hunting their prey before the brutal kill. Many covens ventured into the society to partake in the blood of humans, even the most reclusive of vampires tasted blood on the night of the blood moon. Somehow, on the night of the red coloured moon, the blood of humans tasted sweeter, their life force pulsing with untapped potential, intoxicating as it renewed the primal bloodlust of the ancient creatures. For Jack Morrison the blood moon marked the day his life was changed forever.

The night of the blood moon was the one day of the calendar that no one in the village was permitted to go outside their homes. For the entire day and night, the peasants quivered inside their homes, salt circles and paths drawn across the entrances. Windows the blocked, chimneys and doors were barricaded, and the men clutched their weapons close as families sat in uneasy quiet, shivering in the cold as starting a fire would be a signal to all the lurking creatures that there were humans within that residence. The villagers huddled closer within their homes whenever the screams of their neighbours echoed off the stone walls of their homes. Jack had not headed the warnings of the elders. Brash and bull-headed, he had snorted in the faces of the elders, and took his hunting rifle, heading out into the forest that morning, as he always did, to hunt for his meal.

Hours later he had skinned the young, naïve buck that had dared to snuffled around the bushes, its back turned to the treeline. Jack had left the guts and organs but bound the skin up and slung the deer over his shoulder before heading back to the village. He did not expect werewolves to be tailing him as he plodded back towards the village, his kill dripping an easily noticeable trail of blood behind him. The wolves snarled, nipping at each other to lead the pack, the alpha, a black wolf padded through them silently, before disappearing into the trees, following the scent of the human.

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2

@fyeahmyths two week summer event
day four: south american pairing/creature/event→  la sirena chilota

in chilote mythology this siren is described as being half human, half fish. her human half is that of a beautiful blonde woman and her fin is rumored to be the color of silver. if a sailor is lucky, he can see her sitting on the rocks, with her gold comb combing her golden hair. but this mermaid must be watched from afar, as her singing lures men into her clutches.

Title: The Moon (Part 9.)

Character(s): Negan and Luna Grey (fictional)
Summary: Negan tells Luna the truth.
Word Count: 3,736

Author’s Note: Things will pick up in the next chapter! I promise! 

Taglist: @miiraal | @clinicalkayla​ | @ronweaselz​ | @heartfulloffandoms | @warriorqueen1991 | @dead-head-joker | @eliselulu23 | @may85 | @negantrashlucille23 | @myheart4ever47

Originally posted by grungedaddykinks

The following morning, Negan and Simon were overlooking the supplies that they had taken from Alexandria yesterday before both men realized that Luna was nowhere to be found.

“Have you talked to her?” Simon asked.

“Tried to yesterday when we got back. She shut down.” Negan let his fingertips run across the wood of his baseball bat. He couldn’t get the sounds of her pained cries out of his mind. Negan didn’t know why he cared so much. Since losing Lucille, he told himself that caring in this new world would end up getting him killed.

“Dwight said he didn’t see her at breakfast this morning,” Simon commented.

Negan tightened his jaw. “Huh. Let’s see if she’s getting lunch right now.”

He left the courtyard and entered the building of the Sanctuary. He walked towards the cafeteria and noticed a few unfamiliar faces, but he was scanning the room too quickly.

“She’s not here, Negan.”

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Jerome Valeska - Captivated Crazy Pt 2

Part One - here

Part Three - here

Part Four - here

Part Five - here

(y/n) = Your name

It had been a few weeks since Y/N had been released from solitary confinement and she had already clawed her way to the top of the food chain through association. Barbara, as it turned out, was quite cosy with the millionaire serial killer, Richard Sionis. She had to admit, the blonde was smart, Barbara had effectively manipulated Sionis’ affections, and she had basically turned this hellhole into something almost liveable. Not that Y/N herself wasn’t reaping the benefits of her new friendship group, the food was far better and the company actually made waking up every morning worthwhile. Sure, the asylum was boring, but the occasional fights and hilarious jokes supplied by Jerome made her feel sane.

It was true that Y/N had grown very close to her insane redheaded friend over the weeks, his comical personality and violent behaviour drew her to him, being so complimentary to her own outlook on life. There was only one member of the group who she loathed with a passion. Robert Greenwood. It was probably due to the way he salivated whenever she was in his presence. But, if she clenched her jaw and ignored him completely, she could tolerate his existence and actually have a good time.

And that is how she was enjoying herself at the present, sitting, cross legged on the cafeteria table, playing slapsies with an over exited Dobkins, whilst the infuriating ginger took every opportunity to graze his arms against her leg, poorly acting as if he were simply readjusting his hands on the plastic table top. Over the weeks, Y/N had noticed that her friend seemed to go out of his way to grab her attention. Not that she minded much, she always had the most fun when he was around.

From somewhere behind her, she heard Barbara sigh loudly, lounged across Sionis’ lap, having her toenails meticulously painted by Helzinger.

“I’m bored,” she deadpanned, “Someone tell me a funny story.”

Sionis, ever the centre of attention, spoke up, “I have a good one, so when I was is college, I played for the varsity polo team…I had a string of ponies”

Y/N chuckled; she could almost hear Jerome’s eyes rolling dramatically beside her, and was about to make a wildly inappropriate comment about where Sionis could shove his ponies, before she was interrupted,

“Greetings, I am Zardon, the Soul Reaper!” a heavy, greasy man announced as he stumbled into the room, causing everyone to pause briefly, before resuming their conversations,

“And the maître d’ says, ‘you can’t bring them in here’”, Y/N lent down to Jerome, whispering,

“Its people like Lord Zardon over there that should be in these stripes, we’re obviously not crazy compared to him.” The ginger nodded enthusiastically, resting one his chin on one hand, looking up at you,

“I couldn’t agree with you more, doll fa-.”

“Hear me slaves my patience is wearing thin, surrender your soul to my mercy or, I swear by the Master, I shall feast on your pain, I shall gorge on your torment, I shall crush you like a bug.” And then, the fat, bald man collapse onto the table he was standing on, hacking coughs erupting from his chest.  

Y/N’s eyes grew wide, “Do you think he’s going to choke to death?” she asked, perking up considerably at the sight of the dying man, enjoying the view of his pasty skin gradually turning purple as he sputtered desperately on the  table top. Jerome began laughing maniacally at her comment as Dobkins bounced in his seat and clapped his hands together excitedly,

“I sure hope so, doll.”

Suddenly, the man halted his struggles, his body relaxing as a thick blue gas seeped out of the corpses mouth. Acting on instinct, Y/N dropped to the floor as chaos erupted around her. She may have been crazy, but Y/N was smart, smart enough to realise that the gas wasn’t falling past knee level. Through the throng of stampeding feet, Y/N crawled on her stomach to the furthest corner of the room, pushing herself away from the fumes as fast as possible. A heavy body collapsed over her leg but, with a swift kick to the head, the unconscious heap rolled off of her, giving Y/N enough room to force her head between the barred and locked doors of the cafeteria.

As the gas dissipated, Y/N spotted dark figures approaching the room, armed with guns and shooting any guard that approached them. A strained smile stretched across Y/N’s face as she watched the strangers enter the opposite end of the room. They seemed to be searching for specific people through the web of comatose bodies. A dark skinned woman, who Y/N presumed was in charge, pointed wordlessly at Dobkins and nodded, which prompted one of the men with her to heave him carelessly over his shoulder and leave the room.

It became quite apparent to Y/N that she was on the list of abductees when she felt three pairs of rough hands seize her. Shaking her head quickly to clear herself of the fumes she inhaled, Y/N’s right hand shot out. With a little gurgle, one of the men staggered backward, clutching at his bruised throat. A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Y/N’s body. As her threat to life became more obvious, more and more assailants joined in securing her, her stomach ached, and legs began to weaken. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, Y/N’s head swung forwards with the force of the butt of a gun. With her tongue soaked with the taste of blood, Y/N felt herself shoved into something, before she descended into darkness.

Originally posted by caspersbastardchild

1, 2, 3... I Think Of Thee

Previous Chapter

- Chapter 8 of Seeking Serendipity (a Jon Snow fanfic) -

Beta Reader: @readingbooksdrinkingtea 

Warnings: none :)

Word Count: 2370 words

Morning dawned slowly for Ireyne. She flitted in and out of consciousness many times during the night, sometimes waking up shaking and sweating from dreams of horrid, stinking men clutching her, immobilizing her. Other times she’d woken up from dreams of wolves and snow and him. Needless to say, it was the strangest night of Ireyne’s life and she was much too glad when the sun finally rose high enough for the Winterfell household to wake up.

Vaera had ventured back into her chambers a few minutes before Ireyne woke up again. Her handmaiden’s brown hair whipped around as she got Ireyne’s things ready for the new day. Ireyne sat up in her bed, her mind still buzzing with the events of yesterday…

“Someone came to bed really late yesterday…” Vaera spoke in a sing-song voice causing Ireyne to flush a dark shade of red at her handmaiden’s words. She’d known Vaera since she was 10 and now Vaera had become one of Ireyne’s most trusted and cared for friends. And that meant that Vaera could very well tease her Lady whenever she liked.

“I wasn’t late.” Ireyne replied in a clipped tone. For some reason, she wanted to keep her moments with Jon a secret.

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