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Vanya: Whats the best way to diss an adult

Diego: O K B O O M E R

Vanya: what if they’re not a boomer though

Klaus: *hits blunt* Boomer isn’t an age it’s a state of mind

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Diego takes a night off after Patch chews him out and threatens to put him in a jail cell. He’s in a sour mood when he meets you, but you’re just so sweet you might just change his frame of mind.

Totally based on Bastille’s song ‘Those Nights’. Give it a listen HERE

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Originally posted by taraschamblers

Diego traces his thumb along the neck of the chilled beer bottle before him. The pad of his fingers collect the condensation, wiping it around in the hopes of distracting himself from his thoughts. Diego had his bad days; where he had more bruises than skin; where he was too late so save everyone; but he hadn’t had a day like this one in a long time. 

Not only did every inch of him ache and the ‘bad guys’ get away, but Diego had also left the scene of the scrap with mortally wounded pride. Detective Patch had threatened him with jail time if he dared to intervene with another investigation. Something about the flames of fury in her eyes and the steam coming out of her ears reminded Diego of Reginald. He had backed down and out of the scene as quickly as he could with haunting memories on his heels.

His thoughts drove him to the nearest bar so he could stew in his nightmares before drowning them out in alcohol. Diego’s mind already felt a bit hazy, even with his third beer sitting on the bar before him. The sour taste twisted around his tongue as bitter as his memories. 

The worst thing was that he had no one. Patch had made certain that any of his acquaintances inside the police department were put on a loose form of lock down, rendering Diego’s friends, essentially gone. He hadn’t spoken to his family in years, accept for stopping in to check on Mom; but she couldn’t drink with him. That was what he craved: someone to drink with, talk to, someone to understand him.

His dark eyes scan around the bar in search for that someone. When no one came into his sights, Diego turned around on the stool so the bar counter dug into his back. He let out a hiss as he winced at the feeling. Right when he was about to lean forwards for relief, a blur crossed his vision and caused the hairs on his arm to rise. 

“You okay?” Diego turned at the soft voice. He met a pair of eyes he had never seen before but drew him in nonetheless. You blinked at him a few times before he replied.

“I-I, yeah. Have we met before?” You gave him a smile, the sweetest smile Diego had ever seen as you shook your head.

“I don’t believe so,” you replied, extending your hand to him, “I’m Y/N.” Diego’s hand seems to have a mind of its own. Every atom in his being, the nerve endings in his fingers all drawn to you by some unseen form. Whether it was chemical or magnetic, Diego wasn’t going to fight it as his hand grasped yours. 

“Diego.” The moment his name leaves his mouth, Diego swears he saw your eyes widen. He could only imagine his looked about the same as he took in your form. You were stunning, beautiful, and it wasn’t just the alcohol heightening it. 

“Well, Diego, not to be blunt but, you look like shit,” you gestured to the dark bruise on his cheek. He let out a chuckle and grabbed his drink. After he took a large swig of beer, Diego turned back to you.

“It was a rough night,” he quipped, dark eyes meeting your gaze. You looked at him through your lashes and Diego felt mind go white. All he saw and thought about was how your eyes trailed up and down his body; and how his eyes were doing the same.

“Looks like it,” you said slowly, loving each word before letting it go. Diego nodded and watched as you ordered yourself two shots. While the bartender was pouring them, you looked back at him. “So you came to a bar to lick your wounds?”
“No, I came to a bar for a little bit of hope?”

“Hope?” you questioned with a quirked brow. “That’s a hard thing to find in the bottom of a bottle.” Diego smirked, half-hooded eyes staring at you as softly as he could.

“Not looking for it in a bottle,” he rasped suggestively. You held his gaze as the latent content of his words wrapped around your mind like a scarf. The bartender placed the two shots before you and you slammed one down quickly. The other remained untouched until you pushed towards Diego. He eyed the small glass before looking back at you.

“Maybe it’s in the shot,” you jabbed with an amused smile. Diego let out a breathy laugh and grabbed the shot. The liquor burned going down his throat, but the kind of burn that sent the fires in his bones alit once more.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” he flirted, setting the glass on the counter. You laughed at that and stood from your stool. Diego’s hawk-eyes closed in on you as you leaned towards him. He could smell the lovely perfumed body wash you used, but you didn’t linger near him long enough for him to decipher the scent. Your voice and breath in the shell of his ear was much too distracting.

“Maybe I could help you find it,” you whispered lowly. The tendrils of your voice lulled Diego into a bed of softness. A warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time flooded his senses and he didn’t care if you were his future or a mistake. Diego knew that he just needed you. 

So he let you help find that little piece of hope he was looking for. He let you help him find it right out of the bar and into a cab, then up the stairs to your flat. Your hands were all over him and his couldn’t help but grasp at you like a lifeline. Dragging him up the stairs, it didn’t seem that you would get your flat fast enough. You pulled at Diego’s t-shirt and it took all he had not to do the same as the stairwell came to an end.

After what felt like two minutes too long of fiddling with your apartment keys, you were both inside. Diego kicked the door shut behind you with his heel and you were instantly on him. Your lips tasted like the shot, hinted with lime and whatever chapstick you had put on in the cab. Sweet; your lips were a sweetness Diego had never tried before.

His hands went to your waist and pulled your flush against him as your hands embarked on their own mission. Your fingers skirted up and under Diego’s shirt, grabbing the hem of it as they went. Lifting up until the skin of his torso was exposed, you marveled at his chest. The muscles rippled under the skin which was tan, except in the places where purples bruises bloomed with a fury. 

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Your voice was timid. Slowly your eyes trailed up from his chest to meet his dark eyes. Diego’s mouth parted, kiss-swollen lips eager to be pressed against your skin as he leaned towards your neck.

“Yes,” he whispered, the word falling from his lips like a prayer. “More than sure.” Your head fell back as he peppered the sensitive skin of your neck in sloppy, open-mouth kisses. It was all the convincing you needed as you led Diego back towards your bedroom.

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It seemed that the sunlight cut a perfect path across the floor of your bedroom. The rays highlighted your body as you slipped a large shirt over your shoulders. Diego watched from your bed as you dressed, tugging on shorts that were nearly hidden by the length of your top. He propped himself on his elbow, taking in every inch of your now covered skin. 

You must have felt his eyes on you, because you turned to face him with a cocky smile. “Good morning.”

“It is,” Diego replied, not missing a beat. His flirtation was enough to tempt you back towards the bed. You settled on your side and beamed down at him. In a wave of foregin contentment, Diego rested his head in your lap. You smiled at the sight and ran your fingers over his scalp. A hum rose up from Diego’s throat and he did nothing to stop it. 

“Did you find that hope?” You asked teasingly and Diego chuckled.

“I did, thanks to you,” he replied sleepily, “you’d make a good detective.” You laughed and shook your head. 

“I think I’ll leave the searching to you,” you purred and Diego’s eyes blinked open. His dark eyes met yours but he wasn’t as relaxed as before. His eyebrows knitted together in slight worry, an expression you hadn’t seen from Diego before.

“As long as I can find you again …can I?” He was asking permission and Diego silently wished for you to say ‘yes’. After years of working alone, thinking no one would give him a chance, he couldn’t bear the thought of being isolated again. You curled your bottom lip between your teeth as you stared down at Diego.

“I think you can,” you replied and Diego started to sit up.

“I-I don’t w-want to push it, I jus-” You cut Diego off with a kiss. Your lips still were sweet like the night before. The sensation sent a shiver down his spine. 

“Shh, stop,” you mumbled against his lips, “you’re not pushing anything.” A devilish smirk played on Diego’s lips as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your mouth. You felt his hands pushing lightly, telling your body to sink into the covers once more and you didn’t have the strength to fight back; you didn’t want to fight back. You were willing and Diego was tired of fighting too.

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On the twelfth day of Christmas, TUA gave to me :

12 Robert Sheehan thirst tweets 😏

11 assassins murdered 💀

10 violinists 🎻

9 fake eyeballs melting 👁

8 days til the world ends 🌎

7 Hargreeves siblings ☂

6 tentacles waving 🐙

Five is a time gremlinnnnnnn 5️⃣

4 ghosts a haunting 👻

3 rumours flying 🤫

2 knives a yeeting 🔪

And a huge monkey man furryyyyyyyyy 🐵

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Requested: @ eve-morningstar - Hi, how are you? Can you write with diego being a father and tells grace

Word Count: 760 (short I know)

Warnings: Cute Diego, my terrible writing

POV: Third Person (I think?)

A/N: Not sure how I feel about this one. Kind of just needed to write this even though it’s kind of crappy. I tried to keep this one short, and for this one the apocalypse just hasn’t happened. Sorry if there are mistakes and I hope you enjoy! Please like, repost, and tell me if you’d like to be tagged.

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Rain  pattered softly on the ground as small puddles formed in the dips and cracks of the concrete. The clouds, although a soft grey, still let light through, reflecting off the streets and sidewalks. Diego nervously ambled down the street to the place he once called home: The Academy. 

He almost couldn’t stand the fact that he’s walking towards it at the very moment. Memories of his younger years played through his mind and he couldn’t be sure whether he liked that or not. The torment his father put him through – what he made Diego do – will never be erased from his mind. His relationship with his siblings flipped and flopped over the years, and now he wasn’t sure where he stood with them. The only reason he made his way towards the lonely mansion, was because of his mother, the only person who he felt cared for him. Well besides you. Now standing in front of the door, he began having doubts about this.

I have to. At least Mom should know.

Sighing, Diego pushed the old, large doors open and stepped out of the rain. Small droplets of water fell from the fabric of his jacket, and splattered on the floor. Closing the doors, Diego finally took a look around and scoffed. The tiles remained the same, the scratches on the railing were still there from when he was younger, and the damn chandelier hung in the same space too.

Nothing has changed. Well almost.

The already empty space felt more lonely than usual. He knew why, but wouldn’t bring himself to admit it. Walking up the stairs and down one of the numerous halls, he glanced at his siblings’ rooms as he passed by, heart clenching. He didn’t even mean to go this way, but yet here he was. 

I came here for one reason. Just the one, then get out, and go back home to her – the both of them. 

Diego made his way to where he knew his mother would be. However, as he approached the side of the mansion’s top level slowly, Grace wasn’t to be found. Diego noticed her cross stitch was still there even though she was not. It wasn’t often that you would find her cross stitch without her. Heart rate speeding up slightly, Diego quickened his pace to the two cushiony, blue velvet chairs. As he was searching for signs of his mother and thinking the worst a voice behind him spoke.

“Diego?”

Spinning around, Diego came face with his smiling mother as his whole body relaxed, relieved she was alright. Grace moved forward touching Diego’s arm, which calmed him even more. Diego looked down.

Now that I’m here, what do I even say?

Grace, sensing Diego’s mood shift slightly, brought her hand up to Diego’s face so that he would meet her gaze. 

“Is there something you need to tell me, Diego?” she asked, not even acknowledging that she hasn’t seen him for months.

Diego paused, followed by a sigh. She needs to know first.

“I came – well I wanted to tell you that I’m – I-I-I’m -m-m-m,” he practically whispered, hating how his stutter always showed up at the worst time.

“Shhh. It’s okay, Diego. Just picture the words in your head,” Grace said kindly – no … motherly. Taking a deep breathe, he started again, looking down.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m a – ” he paused, “ – that I’m a … dad.” He whispered the last part, almost not believing it himself. Slowly looking up, Diego took in his mother’s reaction. Slowly a large grin made its way to Grace’s face as her eyes lit up. She grabbed both of Diego’s hands in her own and hums. 

“I guess that would make me a grandmother then. I’ve never thought about being a grandmother, but I think I’d like to try it,” she said matter-of-factly in a chipper tone. Diego, happy of how supportive his mother was being, chuckled at her reaction. 

“I guess it does.”

“I can’t wait. I’m so proud of you, Diego. You’re a father and I have no doubt that you’ll be great at it,” Grace finished. Noticing her son’s silence she asked, “Are you okay, Diego?”

Diego had never been so overwhelmed with emotion. Diego was so scared of being a father if he was being honest, but his mother’s words made all of his doubts wash away. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He was going to be okay, you were going to be okay, and his little girl would turn out pretty okay – well better than okay.

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Permanent Taglist:  @amaranthskies-writes @thetravelingsologuy

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On a totally unrelated note, if anyone knows how to play the bass guitar and could give me some pointers, please send some!

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Hot take: Vanya has a victim complex and so do the rabid stans who defend her every action as if it was justified for her to brutally murder people, not to mention the sheer number of her victims who were literally innocent passerby who had never even looked at her. Y’all are so attached to a fictional character I struggle to figure out if it’s more embarrassing or concerning. You’re so overattached that you act like any comment made about her that doesn’t paint her in an angelic light, even if it’s the truth, is hate. Acting like her trauma and the specific mental state she’s at at the moment/the events preceding to her bad actions justifies it, yet refusing to extend the same courtesy to others (Luther) and acting like they’re the devil because of their bad decisions which are, in fact, also informed a lot by their trauma.

Also: the argument that we can’t hold Vanya responsible for her own actions because she’s “coded as mentally ill” or because “abused people resonate with her” is complete and utter bullshit. Have you not seen the other characters in the show? Did you cover your eyes and plug your eyes when scenes that depicted the other siblings’ trauma came on? Or the scenes that portrayed Vanya as a *gasp* complex human being and not a tormented (yet harmless)  angel and a sad uwu baby? Almost all of the siblings are coded as mentally ill (Luther and Klaus come to mind) and abuse victims resonate with those siblings too. So get off your high horse.

Or if you seriously think Vanya is the only one who is allowed to be traumatized by her abuse or who is mentally ill, then you’re either ignorant or just stupid. :)

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