#I was watching an old movie and always found the accents cool as fuck

[goryhorroor]

bring back the transatlantic accent

#nothing more to say #don’t take this seriously #I’m joking #I was watching an old movie and always found the accents cool as fuck

[tobesoalive]

latch (Sam Kiszka x reader)

hey guys here's the little Sam enemies to lovers smut that was requested! idc if it’s a bit cheesy, I had a ton of fun writing it so please please please send in more requests! I love helping your ideas come to life! 

Warnings: Smut (Oral-f and m receiving, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex)

Friday had finally rolled around and you were more than ready. After a long week of classes and work you were more than ready to have some fun tonight. You and your roommates were going to have some people over tonight to celebrate your second year of college almost being over. You had come up with the idea last weekend and quickly made a list of who all should be invited. There was one person on the guest list that you were dreading to see, no other than Samuel Kiszka.

You had met a kid named Danny Wagner in your first class freshman year, and you two became fast friends, sharing many of the same interests and hobbies. Together you and Danny were a dynamic duo, and you always made each other laugh. People often thought you were dating, but he already had a beautiful girlfriend back home. Danny also had another person constantly attached at his hip, Sam Kiszka, you’d almost think they were the ones dating.

Sam was a lanky kid with sharp features and an extremely annoying god complex. He really thought he was the absolute shit and that everyone was in awe of him. Quite honestly many people were, but you saw right through it. You found him to be arrogant and rude, and you were always disappointed to see him when you went over to Danny’s place, even though he was his roommate. Sam would often show up unannounced at your place too, mostly with Danny, but a couple of times he showed up alone. You were always polite, inviting him in like the good host you are, and you two ended up watching a movie together, and much to your surprise, in these times he was almost tolerable. Almost. He would make a snide remark or joke that would infuriate you, but he wouldn’t stick around for long, usually having somewhere to be. That somewhere was usually the bed of another girl, but they probably didn’t just watch movies.

That was another reason you couldn’t stand Sam. Last year you had a crush on him and he would do the thing where he would play with your emotion, hang out with you and flirt with you only to immediately go and fuck random girls. It hurt you, a lot, but you eventually got over it, losing the romantic feelings, or rather pushing them deep down where you’d hope they’d never surface again.

Now people were going to be at your house in an hour and you haven't even showered. It didn’t really matter though, you weren’t all too concerned with what other people thought of your appearance, so what if your hair was a little wet. You quickly rinsed off in a cold shower, then changed into a simple outfit for the night, flared corduroys and a crocheted tank top.

That was the other thing, you’d think you were exactly Sam’s type, he seemed like he would be into girls who were more artistic and down to earth, but all the girls he hooked up with seemed like they spent most of their time thinking about themselves. Not that there was anything wrong with those girls, you weren’t the “pick me” type, but it seemed like Sam would care about that kind of thing. Whatever, you don’t even like him anyways, he’s more of a nuisance than anything.

You had finished a seltzer by the time people started arriving, the playlist you and your roommates curated playing throughout the apartment. Being with your friends always made you very energetic, and people always said they liked being around you. You could get a crowd laughing in no time. People were coming through the doors and when there were about 75% of the people there, your partner in crime finally arrived. “Wagner!” you shouted across the room in a dumb accent, already a little buzzed. “Where art thou good friend?!” Danny yelled back, matching your accent as you two finally made your way to each other, wrapping him in a friendly embrace. “Where’s your obnoxious sidekick?” you whispered into his ear.

“Don’t worry he’s here. I know how you were just dying to see him.”

“Oh aren’t I always?” you responded with a sarcastic smile

“I still think you need to give him a chance, you’d probably really like him.”

Before you could even respond, he was running up behind Danny and lifting him up by his waist.

“Well if it isn’t dumb and dumber!” you exclaim before Sam comes up and wraps his arm around your shoulder.

“Oh come on (y/l/n), you love me!”

“Haha good one Kiszka, now why don’t we do something I actually love.”

“And what would that be?” Danny questions.

“Take a shot and dance our asses off!” you yell. If you were going to deal with Sam you needed to be a little more intoxicated.

You gathered your roommates and the boys and took them to the kitchen and got out the glasses.

“To friendship!” you yelled

Right then you caught danny say something quietly, and it looked like he was saying “Or more than friendship”

That made you stop for a second before throwing your head back and downing the shot.

“Ok let's get back out there” your roommate says as she pulls you by the arm.

You spend about the next half hour dancing with all your friends, taking hits of joints and drinking. You and Danny did a silly little dance you had come up with last year when you would get drunk in your dorms and do dumb shit. Mid-routine he slipped and pulled you down with him, both of you laughing your asses off. You felt someone grab your arm and help you up as the song changed, “Latch” by Sam Smith blasting through the speakers, one of the best party songs probably ever. The person who had grabbed you wrapped their arms around your waist, swaying back and forth with you to the music. You loosened the stranger’s grip and spun around only to be met with the face of that little shit, Sam.

“C’mon kid can’t you at least try to tolerate me for one song”

“Who ever said you were intolerable?” you respond, admiring how the dim light highlighted his features.

He leaned in close to your ear and lowly whispered in it “You think I can’t see it. Whenever you’re around me you act like it’s charity work.”

You pull back to look him in the eyes and say “It wasn’t always that way. Now let's get back to what we were doing. I like this song more than I like you, which is quite a lot.”

He gives you a grin before you start moving your body against him, and by the end of the song he’s staring at you in complete awe.

Once the song ended you broke free from his grasp. “See you later Kiszka” you say with a wink, turning around and disappearing into the crowd.

Your stomach was in knots, and not from disgust. The moment you just had brought up a lot of emotions, mostly about your romantic feelings for Sam but also the resentment you felt towards him. Fuck, you were in deep now. Things would be so much easier if you never had to see him again and all of this could go away. But alas, you needed to suck it up so you could still have a close relationship with Danny. Plus in about twenty minutes Sam would probably be grinding on another girl. Screw it, you were going to have a good time with your friends, you didn’t need Sam to be happy.

The rest of the night you avoided Sam, giving him zero of the attention he was craving. A couple hours later people were leaving your home or asleep somewhere in the living room, bathroom, kitchen you name it. Thankfully though, your room remained empty, you needed some space to think.

Everyone was asleep and the house was quiet, you threw on a pair of boxer shorts and an oversized Led Zeppelin shirt, passed down to you from Danny. You went to the kitchen and drank probably a gallon of water, making one last pit stop to the bathroom to pee and brush your teeth. No matter how tired you felt you knew you'd thank yourself in the morning. Finally you were on the way back to your room when you stopped in the doorway. Sam was standing in there, looking at all your decorations and your extensive vinyl collection.

“You’ve changed some stuff since the last time I was here”

“Yeah, I like to rearrange stuff y'know? keep it new and interesting.” You remarked, rubbing the back of your neck and yawning, trying to hide your obvious panic. This is the last thing you were hoping for, being confronted one on one with the man himself.

“Are you cool if I stay here tonight? Daniel is passed out on the couch and I don’t feel like making the walk home alone.”

“Of course...did you want to sleep in here?” you ask before you could even stop the words from coming out of your mouth. Fuck, you were a dumbass.

“If that’s okay with you, sleeping next to a stranger wouldn’t be my first choice.”

“You never had a problem being in a stranger’s bed before” you mumbled, looking at the floor.

He didn’t say anything, just turned his head to stare at you for a second, his eyes seeming almost apologetic.

“Well you might as well get comfortable” you tell him as you turn off the lights and flick the lamp on.

“Do you have a shirt I could borrow? I don’t really wanna sleep in jeans and a sweaty shirt.”

“Would you like an old one of Danny’s or one of mine?” you tease him, grabbing out yet another old band shirt of his roommate’s.

While he’s changing you turn away and busy yourself with lighting some incense and pulling the covers back, to avoid seeing his bare torso.

“Can I throw on a record? I can never get to sleep in the silence.”

“Help yourself” you say, but he already has a selection in his hands, Michigan by Sufjan Stevens, one of your favorites.

“Wonderful choice, but I imagine you’re a bit biased.” you say to him, both he and Danny were from the same town in Michigan and had to let everyone know.

“I just wanted something calm and serene, compared to all the fast paced stuff we’ve been blasting for the whole night.”

“Well it was a party Samuel, you have to give the people what they want” you tell him as you climb into bed.

Sam grabs for one of the pillows and a blanket, but you stop him.

“Were you gonna sleep on the floor like a dog? I don’t give a shit whether or not we share the bed.”

“I just assumed...I didn’t wanna make you uncomfortable...or anything.”

“You might be surprised by this but I actually feel pretty safe around you” you confess to him. Fuck, you were still slightly intoxicated so your filter was off. It’s okay, he was still a little drunk too it seemed.

“Do you mind if I take my pants off?” he asks you with a sincere look on his face.

You can’t help but burst out laughing, finding his awkwardness and the absurdity of the comment quite hilarious.

“I’d prefer it to your rough jeans...as long as you’re wearing underwear.”

“C’mon I’m not that much of a freak” he says as he pulls down his zipper and clumsily kicks his pants off.

You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, he looked gorgeous quite honestly, long hair tangled, old shirt hanging off his shoulders and shark boxer briefs stopping at his mid thigh.

“Okay Kiszka, get in here before I change my mind.”

He pulls back the sheets and crawls in, laying his head on the pillow facing you.

“I’m sorry” he says, looking deeply in your eyes, seeming almost ashamed.

“About what?” you knew you shouldn’t feed into this, whatever was going on here was completely platonic and wouldn’t mean anything in the morning.

“Everything. Being such a dick to you. Leading you on. I promise that’s not me, I just, I honestly don’t know how to act around you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re just the one person who actually kinda intimidates me. Or at least my feelings for you intimidate me.” he sighs.

“Is that why you are always fucking other girls and telling people about it when I’m around?”

“God you’re not going to take it easy on me, are you?”

“Why should I?”

“You shouldn’t. With the way I’ve treated you I honestly don’t expect anything from you, I just couldn’t hold it in any longer and I thought this was as good of a time as any.”

“Sam, can I be honest with you?”

“Of course”

“I actually don’t hate you at all like you seem to think. I can’t stand you because I really do like you, but I gave up on anything happening a long time ago.”

“Well you did a pretty good job of hiding it” he says, moving a little closer to you to the point where your noses were almost touching, the feeling of his breath giving you goosebumps. The music hummed softly in the background as you thought for a second.

“Sam don’t hate me but we’re both kinda drunk and I don't wanna do anything right now. I wanna be there for it, like fully there.”

“I was actually hoping you’d say that. I wanna take in every detail and remember it all. You’re not just another drunken hookup.”

You can’t help but give a soft smile, your cheeks going red.

“Well maybe I wouldn’t be opposed to a bit of cuddling”

“Neither would I” he says as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you in close as you bury your head in his chest, taking in his scent.

Something overtakes you, and you tilt your head up and press a soft kiss to his collarbone.

“Goodnight Samuel”

“Goodninght kid” he whispers, pressing his lips to the top of your head, and you can feel him breathing in your scent as well, elated to finally feel wanted.

********************************************************************************************************

You wake up to sunlight streaming through your curtains, turning to look at your clock but instead being met with Sam’s chest.

You were sober enough last night to remember everything that happened, Sam’s feelings for you coming to light and vice versa. It made you almost giddy with excitement, not being able to wait until his eyes opened.

You played with his hair, running your fingers through it and moving it from his neck, replacing it with your lips. Soon enough he’s stretching his arms and yawning.

“Any reason you needed to wake me up at 7 am?” he asked you, looking down at you as the pad of his thumb brushed across your cheek.

“Just couldn’t wait to see you I guess”

“That's a first” he says sarcastically, once again staring deep into your eyes.

You could hear the birds singing outside and a refreshing spring breeze made its way into your room through the open window.

You stared at each other for a second longer before he whispered “Can I?”

You nodded your head yes and he dipped his head down to capture your lips in a kiss. It started off sweet and then your lips started moving in a rhythm, his hands grabbing your legs and pulling you onto his lap. He kept kissing you as your tongue made its way into his mouth, causing his hips to buck up into you. You pulled back and let out a soft sigh, basking in the feeling of him growing hard against your core. He took this as an opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and leaving little nips.

“Can I take this off?” you ask him, hands grabbing at the hem of his shirt.

“Please” he groans against your neck.

You pull it off and instantly your hands run along the expanse of his smooth skin, admiring every freckle and mole, fingertips brushing across his nipples. You pull your hands away to pull your own shirt off, blushing a bit, slightly embarrassed to show yourself to him. He takes a moment to stare at the newly exposed skin, pulling you down into a kiss a moment later and mumbling “You’re absolutely stunning” into your lips.

“You’re not too bad yourself” you say with a smile spreading across your face, quickly losing it as you bite your lip when he starts to move his hips once again, his bulge rubbing deliciously against your already wet core.

“I need more of you” he grunts, obviously frustrated.

You tangle your hands in his hair and pull his head back a bit, looking down into his eyes before saying “then have me”, pulling him into a kiss.

In a swift movement he flips you both over, kneeling with his legs on either side of you.

“These need to come off” he says, tugging at the waistband of the boxers you slept in. As he pulled them off and the cold air hit your core, you couldn’t help but drink all of him in, admiring just how gorgeous he looked, as if he was sculpted by the gods himself. That moment ended when you felt his middle finger run lightly up and down your slit. You threw your head back and closed your eyes, concentrating on the feeling of his skin on yours.

“Please Sammy, I need you” you say, surprised at yourself for using that nickname with him.

He looks at you and smiles before lowering his gaze to your dripping cunt, furrowing his brows as he pushes his long finger inside of you. You mewl as he pushes it down to the last knuckle, letting you adjust for a moment before starting to slowly pump in and out.

“Fuck you’re tight. So much better than I imagined.”

“So you’ve thought about this before?” You smirk at him, turning your eyes to look at the sight of his finger pumping in and out.

“Quite a lot actually, I’ve thought a lot about how you taste too” he says before readjusting himself so his head is buried in between your thighs. It only takes a second for his tongue to find your clit as he inserts another finger and starts to pump a little faster.

“Fuck you’re good at this” you say as you let out a breathy moan, hands once again finding their way into his hair. That causes him to moan around your clit, sending vibrations through your whole body. You don’t know how much longer you’d be able to last, with Sam lapping at you like it’s his last meal.

You pull his hair, forcing his lips to part from your sensitive bud, pulling him into a sloppy kiss.

“I wanna taste you too” you say before getting up and kneeling on the floor in front of your brd, motioning him to sit with his legs over the side, facing you. You look up at him as you pull his boxers down, length hitting his stomach. You take a second to admire it, with its pink head, a large vein running up the bottom. It was a nice length, with quite a bit of girth to it, surrounded by a small patch of pubic hair. As you wrapped your hand around it you said “not to be weird or anything but your dick is gorgeous”, causing him to let out a light laugh that was quickly stifled when you wrapped your head around the tip of his cock. His fingers intertwined with your hair, lightly pulling it, not forcing you down on his dick like some guys do. You gently moved your head up and down, taking as much of him as you could in your mouth and using your hand to stroke the rest.

“Fuck I need to be inside of you” he groans, tugging at your hair, causing you to pull your mouth off his dick with a small pop.

“Can I ride you?” you question as you make your way back onto the bed.

“Fuck yes, I can’t promise how long I’ll last though” he says, pulling you in for another kiss as you line him up up with your entrance. You run his tip along your slit a few times before slowly starting to lower yourself down, taking your time to adjust to his size. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he throws his head back, letting out a guttural moan.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

“So have I” you say before starting to slowly move yourself up and down on him.

It’s lazy and sweet, not perfect or anything, but nothing about this situation really was. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Fuck” he remarks as he grabs your hips, fingers sinking into your skin,helping you move up and down on his delicious cock.

“You fill me up so perfectly, god you feel so good”

“I guess it was meant to be baby” he says with a grin, putting his fingers in his mouth then moving them down to rub circles around your clit.

“Fuck Kiszka, if you keep taht up I’m gonna cum.”

“That was my goal, I’m close too” he breathes out as he buries his head in your neck.

You clutch the back of his head as you start to move yourself up and down faster, fucking yourself on his cock.

“Fuck Sam I’m gonna cum”

“Me too babe, where do you want me to?” he asks shakily.

The only word you can muster out is “Inside” as you approach your peak, clenching around him once more before tipping over the edge.

It’s complete bliss as you ride out your high, feeling him give one last deep thrust into you before coating your walls with his warm ropes of seed.

You collapse against him, nuzzling your head into his neck, pressing sloppy open mouthed kisses as you both catch your breath.

He pushes your hair to the side, leaving his lips on your temple while he remains sheathed inside you.

“Thank you” he says, still regaining his breath and returning to reality.

“Don’t leave me” you say softly into his ear.

“I wouldn’t for the world, don’t you worry kid.”

You sit up and look into his soft brown eyes, taking in how much things have changed in the past few hours.

“I don’t hate you. Not in the least. I just hated the idea of not being with you.”

“Same here, but we don’t have to feel that anymore. I’m sorry for the way I treated you. You deserve the world, and I want to try my hardest to give it to you.”

“Thank you Samuel, I’ll try to do the same.”

You give him one last long kiss before pulling back, pushing his hair behind his ear and saying “C’mon loverboy, let’s go get some breakfast.”

#sam kiszka #sam kiszka imagine #sam kiszka fanfic #sam kiszka smut #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet imagine #josh kiszka #josh kiszka imagine #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fan fic #jake kiszka imagine #jake kiszka #jake kiszka smut #jake kiszka fanfic #danny wagner #Danny Wagner imagine #Danny Wagner smut #Danny Wagner fanfic #peaceful army

[theaviskullguy]

Ink and Petals

@dapple-dualies-propaganda here's the au

Tattoo artist! Rider x Florist! Goggles

hope you enjoy!

---------

When was it not busy at Squid ink?

It was one of the top Tattoo Parlors in Inkopolis. and it was also on a pretty busy street. So, it got a lot of customers. Also the fact that one of the artists was a famous turfer.

Rider hadn't formerly retired, but he had eased out of playing Turf Wars. He had found other interests outside of the sport: Theater, art, reviewing old movies online... He still did Turf from time to time, albeit the adult league. He was too old for the more popular teen division.

So, he found a job as a tattoo artist. And he rather loved it. Not only did most of his friends consult him for tattoo advice (from where the best places are to good designs), but he also knew some gossip. One of his regulars had beef with her neighbor because he has a pet raccoon who keeps stealing her trash and Rider could NOT wait to hear more about this story.

Another thing was, well, Rider had seen some shit. From people covered head to toe in tats, to people eagerly wanting their first tattoo, even to shyer folk who wanted one to defy controlling parents or to mark something important.

None of that prepared Rider for the news he got when tattooing one of the customers. More specifically, Gloves.

You see, Gloves had been coming in for the past few days. They had wanted a pretty complicated butterfly tat, so for the last 3 days Rider has been exchanging stories with the resident enby about... pretty much anything.

This is how this exchange happened;

"So you remember Goggles, right?" Gloves asked.

Rider rolled his eyes. "What, you think I'd forget the guy who kept pulling down my pants?"

"Oh ha ha. Anyways, apparently he works at that flower shop now."

"...He what?"

"You heard me!" They said. "I went there yesterday to get something for a project and there was Goggles! He misses you, 'ya know!"

Rider was just. quiet. He hadn't talked to his crush in a while, contact dwindled when Rider stopped doing Turf as much. Never once did he think Goggles would miss him, but that was probably the self hatred talking.

"...I'll think about it." Was all Rider said.

The conversation continued like nothing happen; Gloves saying multiple cursed things and Rider sharing interesting stories he heard on his job. Time flew by and soon, the tattoo was done; a butterfly with the bi colors on one wing and the nb colors on the other. Rider was quite proud of it, and Gloves seemed to like it. They waved, and left the store, humming to themselves.

Rider looked at the clock. His shift ended in just a few minutes. He knew he had no other appointments that day, so he took to watching old recorded matches in his phone.

Those were over a decade ago. Yet he still remembered everything. His favorite part was still learning he won a match by such a small margin. It was just... amazing.

He sighed. Rider missed those battles. But he has to say, he missed his crush a bit more.

He clocked out, saying goodbye to the other employee-Cherry (business relationships were easy to maintain when your coworkers were your siblings), and headed towards the flower shop for more reasons than one.

Army had a performance the next day. And yeah, Rider knew it was romantic, but platonically giving your best friend flowers was always nice. Plus, he wanted an excuse to see Goggles again.

He looked into the shop-the blue inkling was nowhere to be seen, but then again neither was the front desk. So, Rider shrugged and stepped in.

The floral scent was strong, but not overwhelming. Plenty of blossoms lined the stands, along with tags of what the flowers were and what they meant.

Rider looked around, trying to remember which flowers Army liked again, when he heard a familiar, youthful voice.

"Hi! Need any help?"

The inkling turned around. Goggles had definitely changed since Rider last saw him; his tentacles were longer and in an actual bun, for once. His blue eyes still had that clarity, and he still had that goofy smile. Though he didn't seem to recognize Rider.

"Uhh... I'll be fine. I'm just trying to remember what flower my friend likes the most." He said, hoping his accent didn't give him away; there weren't many in Inkopolis with an Australian accent.

But, Goggles didn't seem to notice or care. "Oh, okay!"

Rider internally breathed a sigh of relief. That would have been awkward if Goggles recognized him.

He looked around the shop, before spotting a bouquet of lilies. He knew Army liked lilies. If they weren't his favorite flower, it'd be close enough.

Rider took a few of the bigger ones, and a few white roses for variety, and took them to the counter.

Goggles smiled. "This a special occasion?"

"Not exactly. Just, my friend's doing a performance for a musical and I wanted to get him something for it." Rider explained.

"What musical?" Gogs asked, arranging the flowers with a sheer, white ribbon tying them together.

"Hadestown. He got Eurydice."

"Oh! I went to go see it last night! Army's amazing at that role. He's your friend, right?"

Rider internally panicked, but calmed down after remembering he wasn't Army's only friend. "Yeah. We've been friends for a while now."

"Well, tell him I said hi!" He handed the bouquet to Rider. "On me, alright? It's for a friend anyways!"

Rider nodded. "Thanks, mate."

"You're welcome!"

------

A few weeks went by. Rider occasionally stopped at the flower shop and got flowers for...well, no real reason. He'd use them to add color to his house, or give them to friends. He just wanted an excuse to see Goggles.

He'd talked to the blue inkling a bit more, too. He'd gotten into the business since, well, he really liked flowers, and he wanted a job where he could just...relax! He still did Turf, of course, but the Adult league was more serious than the teen one, and he just wanted to have fun instead of be expected to take a game seriously.

He still didn't recognize Rider. The yellow-green inkling was a bit hurt by this, to be honest.

Though, it was a bit startling when Goggles actually walked into Rider's work. And Rider was assigned to give Goggles his first tattoo: A blue jay on his shoulder, taking off from a branch.

This time, it was Goggles' turn to ask questions as Rider worked.

"Sooo.... you've been coming into my shop for a while and I still don't know your name!" The blue inkling stated. "I mean, you can probably recognize me though!"

Rider shrugged. "Well, who can forget Goggles of the Idiot Blue team?"

Goggles giggled. "You do know me! I still don't know you!!"

"...I can assure you, we've met before that day I got Army flowers." Rider said.

"Ooh! Can I try and guess who you are?"

"Ehh, why not."

"Okay! Umm..." Goggles thought for a moment. "Clams facemask?"

Rider shook his head. "Nope."

"Inkfall?"

"Wrong."

"Eging Jr?"

"Not even close there."

"Stealth Goggles?"

"Getting closer, I'll give you that."

"....Rider?" Goggles asked.

Rider chuckled. "Took you long enough, idiot."

Goggles smiled wide. "I finally found you! Hi Riri!"

"Hey, Gogs. It's been a while."

"Yeah! I'm a bit surprised I didn't recognize you, since we were pretty close!" Goggles stated.

Rider shrugged. "Well, I'm not the most memorable person anyways."

"Riderrrrr don't say that!" Goggles said. "You're still really popular!"

"To some people, maybe. Not everyone."

There was a tense silence, other than the hum of the tattoo needle as it made the drawing.

"....So." Goggles started again. "How's life?"

"It's...well, better than it was." Rider said. "Got my own place, for one. Though it gets a bit lonely.. You?"

"I'm still living in an apartment. I really want a roommate!" Goggles proclaimed. "Maybe we could move in together?"

"..I'll think about it, Gogs. Though it might be fun being your roommate."

"Really? Thanks Rider!" Goggled smiled.

The conversation grew more casual. Rider enjoyed it; turns out Goggles had his fair share of gossip. It was kinda cool.

And as the next few days passed, Rider looked forward to each of those sessions. His crush seemed to go from "this person would be fun to date i think" to "hOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS IM IN L O V E", and it didn't help that during those meetings, Goggles had to be shirtless.

The days turned into weeks and months. Goggles moved in with Rider, and the two became incredibly close friends.

And, it came to a head near valentines day. Goggles' shop was very busy, as expected. Luckily, Squid Ink wasn't as much.

So, on his day off, just before Valentines, Rider headed to the flower shop and got a bouquet of roses. Cliché to confess on Valentines day, Rider knew, but he's a pining gay cut him some slack.

And Rider came home right as Goggles was leaving for his shift. So, that left Rider with a good 3 hours to practice his confession.

"Alright, Rider. This has to be CASUAL. 'Hey, I've liked you for over a decade but just now had the confidence to confess!' No, too creepy sounding. 'Yo, Gogs. I really like you and maybe we could go out to dinner sometimes?' ...Too casual."

....Yeah, this went on for a while.

Rider groaned, collapsing his his bed. "I wish feelings were fucking easier...I should just call Army."

So, he grabbed his phone and selected the contact, Veronica Sawyer Kinnie

"C'mon, Army... pick up."

And not one ring later, "Rider, what is it?"

"...I need romantic help. Please." Rider asked.

"Look, just because I'm married to Aloha, doesn't mean I know how I ended up here."

"Yeah, I kinda know that." He stated. "Still. I really need some help."

Army sighed. "Who is it? It's totally that one person with the raccoon story-"

"Actually, no. It's, um.... It's Goggles."

The octoling on the other end of the line could be heard sighing. "Still a morosexual I see."

"OI! You're the one who married a fuckin himbo!"

".....Touché. Still, there's a difference."

Rider huffed. "Just... give me some advice. I wanna confess to him tomorrow but I've got no idea how. I'm giving him roses, but like, there's gotta be something more I could do, y'know?"

"Have you tried asking Prince?" Army suggested. "He is the one with the obsession with rom coms and romance novels."

"This is his exam period, Army. I'm not about to potentially interrupt a cram session by asking for romantic advice!"

"Fair enough. I'd say...well, just rip off the band aid. Like... 'Hey, Goggles, I really like you and was wondering if you'd like to be my boyfriend.'"

"...Thanks, Arm. I'll, uh, give it a try."

-------

Rider couldn't sleep that well. Mainly out of anticipation.

He was gonna confess to his crush of...over a decade, at least. He didn't fuckin know what was gonna happen!

Like, would Goggles reciprocate? Would he hate Rider after it? WHAT THE FUCK WOULD HAPPEN-

He sighed. He needed to get his mind off this shit.

Rider looked over to his bedside clock: 5AM. 5 hours before his shift. 5 hours to get his shit together and plan for confessing to the world's cutest but also dumbest man later that night.

C'mon, Rider. Think. Army said to rip it off like a band aid, but Goggles might find that a little sudden and out of the blue. He could write a letter and leave it for Goggles when he went to his shift (The flower shop was closed on Valentines day). That would be a safe option.

Rider sat up, and got out a piece of paper and pencil, writing a note.

"Hey, Goggles.

There's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I really, really like you. As in, a crush.

I totally get it if you don't like me back, or think I'm weird, but hey, I was wondering if you'd wanna go out to dinner or something. Probably not tonight cause of Valentine's day but maybe tomorrow night or something.

-Rider"

Quickly, he folded it and wrote Goggles' name, putting a little heart sticker on it. It was corny, but hey, Rider had to use up those stickers somehow.

Rider attached it to the roses, and kept it on his desk.

And so, the morning went as normal. He had breakfast, got out of his pjs, put his hair up... the usual.

But as Rider left to go to work, he left the note and rose on the table, and left the house quickly.

During the day, he nearly forgotten all about it; He caught up with the gossip-Apparently the neighbor with the raccoon and the regular were now dating. So that was a nice little end to the story.

Squid Ink wasn't AS busy-probably because it was Valentines day, people were spending it with their lovers, not getting inked up (unless they made the appointment when single)

And it was near the end of Rider's shift when he heard his name mentioned. Probably someone making an appointment before he heard the familiar voice of Goggles going "Okay!!"

The blue inkling walked over to his station. "Hi Ridey!!"

"...Hey, Gogs. Getting another tat?" Rider asked, trying to keep his cool.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"A'ight anything specific in mind or-"

"Can I get just a simple quote one?"

Rider nodded. "Where do you want it?"

Goggles pulled down the collar of his shirt slightly. "Right here, please!"

"Okay. Just try to keep holding that down so I don't mess up.

-----

And so, tattoo conversations ensued.

The quote Goggles had wanted was a simple Pride one, that said "love is love". It was discreet, but a bit of it could be seen poking out if Goggles ever wore a v-neck.

"So, any plans for tonight?" Rider asked, trying to keep things subtle. Maybe Goggles hadn't read the note yet.

The blue inkling nodded. "Kinda! I had mental plans buuuuut nothing serious."

Rider raised an eyebrow. "Who with?"

"..I m-mean, I still have to ask him.." Goggles' face turned a shade of blue, and he averted his gaze.

"....Can I guess who he is?"

"If ya can!"

He smiled. "Does his name have an R in it?" Rider had a guess it was himself, but it wouldn't hurt to check.

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!"

"Got an accent?"

"Yep!!"

"Is he doing your tattoo?"

"....y-yeah?" Goggles sheepishly smiled. "I'm n-not that discreet, am I?"

Rider chuckled, but on the inside he was screeching. "Honestly? I had no clue myself."

"Really? I've been dropping the most obvious hints!"

"...Like what?" Rider asked, now a bit curious.

"Welllll I've been picking movies you like during movie night, I've made sure to get your drink on coffee runs, Oh! And I offered to cook dinner that one time!" Goggles stated.

"...Damn. I'm just oblivious then." The former dynamo user laughed, before turning off the needle. "There. It's all done." Rider held up a mirror for the blue boy.

Goggles' face lit up. "Whoa! It looks amazing!!! Thanks Riri!"

Rider smiled. "You're welcome. Now, uh, ...did you read my note?"

"..Y-yeah, I did. And, um...I like you too Rider!!" The blue man pressed a small, quick kiss to Rider's cheek.

Rider blushed. "S-so, you'll let me t-take you out?"

Goggles nodded. "Yeah!!!"

"I...thanks, Gogs."

"You're welcome Riri!!!"

----------

aAAAAA RUSHED END

but like. hope yall enjoy!

#Galax Writes #tattoo artist x florist #splatoon #coroika #coroika rider #coroika goggles #goggles x rider

[bunnys-beetlejuice-blog]

come on in, folks, i got some kind of goof ass Beetlejuice/Evil Dead crossover for you to enjoy.

He’s eighteen, and it’s Saturday, which means that he and Lydia are wandering around Manhattan, looking for trouble to get into. Lydia, eleven and ever his little shadow, is standing next to him, as they take a moment, on the busy New York street corner, to sip their boba and think about their next move. They were meant to be watching some horror movie that had looked alright from the previews, but ended up being so stupid, it wasn’t even fun, and the Deetz siblings had found themselves walking out, one hour poorer but a bucket of overly butter saturated movie popcorn richer. “I still can’t believe how bad that was,” Lydia says, again, huffing, because they’d actually paid money to see that stinker, instead of sneaking in, which is their usual habit. “Ya get one big name attached an’ everyone apparently stops givin’ a shit. Musta figured th’ droolin’ masses would eat it up,” he agrees, and he slurps up the last of his tapioca balls, and then proceeds to eat the plastic straw. “Is it too much to ask that characters actually be interesting, and, I don’t know, behave like normal human people?” Lyds bitches, as BJ takes a bite out of his cup, too. She glances up at him, dryly. “I mean, I guess maybe my standards for normality are low, but still.”

He grins at her. “Whatever could you possibly mean, sister dearest?” he puts on a posh, almost transatlantic accent, and she rolls her eyes, and sucks boba up in her straw, then shoots the pearls at him like a pea shooter. He snorts and laughs.

It’s a good day, despite the letdown at the movies. It’s nearly that time of year, just about the start of his seasonal depression, as the sun becomes shy and things go cold and gray. Still, there’s some time left with the sunshine, so he’s drinking it up, savoring it, and it feels good, to stand here with Lyds, and talk about nothing. “Alright, come on, let’s second act it,” he grins, and she perks up. “I think Wicked’s playing!” “Wicked’s always playin’.” “Well, I’m not sitting through Hamilton, it’s a Saturday. I’m not learning if I don’t have to.” “Totally fuckin’ fair. Music Man, maybe?” “Hugh Jackman’s weirdly brick shaped head freaks me out.” “There’s gotta be a show we can sneak into,” BJ frowns, scratching at the scruff of his chin, and then he catches a scent he’s never smelled before, as Lydia puzzles through their remaining options. It’s like death, sort of, but not. Like death warmed over, or death, refried. He takes his sister’s hand, and leads her away from the street corner, following the smell, nose in the air, pupils blown wide, and Lydia laughs. “Great, time to go poke a dead thing. That’s more fun than The Last Four Years, at least.” She’s seen him go like this before, and thinks she knows what to expect.

Neither of them know how to react when they follow the scent down an alleyway and see the violent fight happening in front of them.

Parked at the far end of the alleyway is a car, some 70’s make that he doesn’t know enough about such things to name, and between it, and the Deetz siblings, is an one handed man absolutely going feral on a group of three refried dead smelling zombie… things. “Deadly-vu,” he hears Lydia whisper, as they watch the man perform a scissor kick that sends a zombie head flying. It bounces like a basketball against the brick wall that makes the alleyway, rolls, and lands at the Deetz sibling’s feet. There’s a beat, as they stare at it, and it stares back, before the head on the ground opens its mouth and speaks. “DEMON!” it shrieks, and then it makes the life ending choice to roll at Lydia, teeth bared, and his boot is going through it, crushing through the skull like an overly juicy bug under his heel. He takes a second to wipe the gore from his sole onto the pavement. “Maybe Wicked could be good,” he turns and says to Lydia, who responds by ducking behind him, because the body the head formerly belonged to seems to be stumbling at them, clutching something in it’s boiled and infected and puss covered arms, and it thrusts the thing at BJ, before falling down and collapsing into dust. It’s a book. Some kind of creepy old demon book, from the look of it. He wrinkles his nose in vague disgust, and then takes a sniff. If the zombie things are refried death, this thing is a whole fucking Mexican food buffet of it, and it makes his head spin in a way he’s never felt before. He kind of likes it. He’s about to give the cursed reading material a tentative lick before a boom rings out from in front of them- the one handed man has pulled a sawed off shotgun off his back, and dispatched another corpse thing. There’s one left, and it’s circling the man, who by this point is so blood covered, he looks like he was tricked into being prom queen, or something.

“Is it just me, or do you freaks just keep gettin’ uglier?” the man quips, and the corpse lunges, a stumbling move which earns it the butt of the shotgun to the jaw, which goes flying. The zombie is shot through the gut, and drops, but is a twitching, squirming mess. BJ’s seen enough horror movies to know that thing is getting back up. The stranger has apparently, too. He takes a moment to reload the shotgun, then double taps, blowing clean through the thing’s skull. He blows at the slightly smoking barrels of his sawed off, twirls it, and holsters it, re-slipping it onto his back. It’s a pretty cool move, actually, and the siblings watch in rapt attention. It takes the three remaining people (well, two people, one demon,) in the alley a moment to actually focus on each other, and there’s silence, before the stranger speaks. “Uh,” says the man, covered in blood, and Lydia peaks out from behind BJ, and stares at him, with big eyes. “Kids,” he hears the man mutter. “Great, just what I need, a coupla kids, gettin’ in my way.. Hey, kiddies,” he says, louder, with a smile, which might be really charming when he’s not soaked in rot and blood, but the effect at the moment is not as sincere and friendly as he clearly thinks it is. “Looks like you two little heroes managed to wrangle my book away from those deadites. You wanna do your pal Ash a favor, and hand it over?” He makes a “come here” motion with his stump arm, and then seems to realize that’s not so appealing, because he tucks that appendage behind his back, worried, suddenly, about scaring them. As if a man with a missing hand is the weirdest thing they've seen in the last five minutes.

“What the fuck,” Lydia says, and BJ can’t help but agree with that sentiment. Also, he feels a vague sense of sudden responsibility for this weird old tome. It doesn’t exactly seem like the kind of thing a human should have. Maybe those zombies… deadites? Maybe they were trying to get back what was stolen from them. Though he’s not charitable enough to assume that they’re the good guys in this feud. The stranger, Ash, takes a careful step forward. “It’s alright,” he says, like he’s talking to a wild animal he’s trying to tame, and not a teen and preteen, respectively. “I’m not gonna hurtcha. Just need to get my book back.”

A sudden screeching wind roars down the alleyway, and both living humans react, ducking, as it bellows and swirls around them, kicking up dust and trash and chunks of leftover deadite. “Demon! Aid us!” BJ feels a presence in front of his face, something he can’t see, but a great, ancient something, reaching out to him, demanding, begging, pleading, for him to assist in whatever macabre goal it wants to meet. He responds by sticking his unglamoured tongue out at it. “Ewww, gross. No.”

The thing shrieks again, and makes a beeline for Lydia, which is just about the stupidest thing it could have done, because he drops his glamour fully and snarls, gives the ancient being a psychic push back, and he sends the thing that cannot be seen flying, out of the shady darkness of this alleyway, past what he assumes to be Ash’s car, and out onto the city street, into the sun. It shrieks and moans and curses him. He flips it off, as it dissipates. The vibe in the air, however, tells him it’s not “dead,” just gone.

Ash straightens up and looks at him. BJ’s already slipped his human disguise back on, so the effect is that Ash has just seen what seems to be a slightly too pale and definitely overweight human teen somehow push back an ancient evil, totally unaffected. Now it’s his turn to let out a confused, “What the fuck?”

“Come on, BJ!” Lydia grabs her big brother’s arm and pulls him away, running from the gore and the confused zombie slayer. “Wait, kids-!” Ash rounds the corner, after them, but the Deetz siblings are already gone, disappeared into thin air, flash stepping the span of blocks in the blink of an eye, and they don’t stop until Lydia, sick from the teleportation, gives his hand a squeeze. They appear on a rooftop, confusing and traumatizing some pigeons that had been roosting.

“Wait, why did we run?’ BJ asks, and Lydia looks at him like he’s a moron. “Because that guy was clearly a monster hunter! And kind of really good at it!” she says. He mulls that over, and smiles. “Worried for your big bro?” he bats his eyelashes at her, and she responds by slugging him in the gut, which he reacts the barest amount to. “Last thing I want is to explain to mom and dad how you ended up with a shotgun blast through your skull,” she says, and crosses her arms, before leaning forward, to study the book he’s still holding. “So. What is that?” He grins. “Wanna open it an’ find out?” Read the rest of the first chapter here!

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice au #bj deetz au #ashley williams #ash williams #evil dead fanfiction #lydia deetz #emily deetz #charles deetz #my writing

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, episode 17-20 thoughts! finishing up season two! the finale is the THIRD 2-PARTER OF SEASON 2. that's so many! I wonder how many season 3 will have?

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-UERGH WHY DOES VLAD HAVE AN AI WITH MADDIE'S FACE ON IT. SOOO CREEPY. AND MORE 'CREATIONS' waiiiit. vlad is Dr. Frankenstein! (despite his ghost design obviously referencing vampires) HE HAS 'CREATIONS' HE MAKES THEN WONT TAKE REAL RESPONSIBILITY FOR!!! this bitch.

-danny was late and his friends immediately start going off about how hes inconsiderate, and has been treating them like sidekicks??? he just overslept, my god. chill. even if he has, be nicer about talking about it with him?? he really can't help that he sometimes has to chase the ghosts, or has a secret identity to protect...

-'what kind of ghost haunts a miniature golf course' umm. me as a ghost. next question

-imagine going home and theres a tiny child on your bed claiming to be your cousin. with as many cousins I have, I would probably believe her. but the 'ran away from home' BIT....SHES 12?? SHES SO TINY. I hate that they have her belly out in her ghost form, but I like how her colors are asymmetrical. something about her design...maybe the proportions?? are weird to me...anyway danny was good to feed her, but he shouldve taken her to his parents FIRST. or, tbh, probably jazz. (JAZZ DIDNT EVEN GET TO MEET HER!!! NOOO. I mean she said she'll be BACK BUT STILL)

-ANYWAY. shes voiced by AnnaSophia Robb, the girl who was in because of winn dixie, played as violet from charlie and the chocolate factory, and was the girl from bridge to terrabithia. (the movie that made me cry hysterically when I was 12 and I never watched it again because it Broke Me!) thats super cool.

-vlad sucks: the episode, basically. what's new!! I love how he's like, I'm Not A Villain. *immediately cuts to him torturing danny to make him transform, to get mid-transformation DNA, to perfect a Clone.* *immediately shows that he doesnt give a shit about his new daughter Dani and just wants a ''more perfect clone'' and will put her in danger to get that. will let her DIE to get that*

-Dani is danny's clone and is a girl? transgenderism....one of them has to be trans. or they both are.

-dani just. leaving at the end. WHAT? SHES 12. DONT JUST. NO!!! SHE WAS PROBABLY JUST BORN, A MONTH AGO AT MOST, RIGHT?? SHE NEEDS...SOMEWHERE TO LIVE. MONEY? FOOD?? A FAMILY?? AN EDUCATION???! WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE'S LEAVING!!! OKAY BYE I GUESS!!! D: concern!!!

-the next ep opens with skulker chasing a ghost down. ...does skulker count as a ghost hunter in the way valerie and danny do? I mean, sure, he hunts the good guys too, but he. he hunts ghosts...also, we haven't seen his Real Form since his debut episode! tiny...

-the guys in white are back! ngl, I assumed they were a gag for that one episode. you're telling me they might actually be a threat? ok.

-valerie in her lil nasty burger uniform looks so cute!! glad shes not in that mascot uniform this time. I guess she stopped hiding that she's working there now?

-gregor having white hair, dressed in black and white...and green eyes...sam has a Type, I guess.

-danny being unnecessarily hostile about gregor. danny!!! hes been nice so far. he looks a little...tall to be 14, but. danny doesnt know anything about him! (he does Suspect, but...you cant just spy on people and be rude to them from a hunch.) also, gregor kissed her, and when she freaked out, he was like 'oh no!! sorry, we can take it slow! I understand!' which was NICE. I hate jealousy plots still tho.

-altho. umm. tucker, being concerned about danny spying on them??? SAM AND YOU WERE SPYING ON DANNY AND VALERIE A FEW EPISODES AGO!!!!! im not saying its RIGHT, but dont be a hypocrite!!! AND THEN SAM BEING MAD ABOUT IT, TOO.

-DANNY IS A 7 ON THE SCALE OF ECTOPLASMIC POWER!!! out of 10? so I want to know where the other ghosts rank...I mean it's a list from the guys in white, so, it may not even be accurate, like, they havent seen ALL of his powers, have they?

-Lancer being like 'im not cooperating with the FEDS' until they said they could access his tax records. they already did that joke with jack, but like, its still funny. kings of tax evasion.

-tucker's aggressive third-wheeling. but gregor being super into it. gregor/tucker is the real ship here. then gregor kissing danny on both cheeks after hugging him. bi poly king gregor. (he does turn out to be a liar with a phoney accent. unsurprising, BUT THE CONCEPT OF HIM BEING GENUINE AND THEM ALL DATING IS FUN)

-THE...GUYS IN WHITE THINKING GREGOR IS DANNY PHANTOM. LMAOOO. GET HIS ASS. or,, Elliot. lmfao

-sam saying tucker is part of the package because theyre friends was super sweet <3 but also 'part of the package'...polyships are obviously the solution to these dumb jealousy/love triangle plots.

-danny crashed a whole plane. the collateral damage...

-is he....

-you know....

.... (ITS NOT GAY IF YOU'RE DOING IT TO PRETEND TO BE SOMEONE YOU'RE NOT, AND LIE TO A GIRL. RIGHT? he was getting a little too into pretending to enjoy tucker's company, and the above...c'mon, guy.)

-lmao, freakshow is in actual prison. I didn't expect a follow up, or for him to show back up! in the finale of this season, too!

-THE SICK TATTOO GHOST IS NAMED LYDIA!!! more Lore On her. freakshow seemed genuinely concerned about her. also, is she mute? I don't think she talked the first time we saw her, either. and we didn't know freakshow 'envied' ghosts, either, the first time, we just knew he was controlling them. interesting!

-...they literally stole the infinity gauntlet from marvel and called it the reality gauntlet. is that legal. what the fuck. even with the gems in the lil slots, having different powers...they had freakshow in jail, but didnt check his pockets??! hes just still in his lil outfit??? what kind of ...oh, its in amity park. yeah, all of the adults are idiots, okay, sure.

-'freakshow!' 'in the anemic flesh!' dude take some iron pills then. also, sure, the red eyes could be contacts for his aesthetic, but the whites of his eyes are yellow! does he have jaundice?! he severely needs more...like, every kind of vitamin. (this is what im worried about as freakshow attacks danny with giant robots)

-again, goth circus is a sick theme, and I love his goth train.

-oh FUCK every single person saw danny transform. on a stage. including his parents via TV. oh god. the guys in white and immediately like 'youre coming in for experiments!' SCARY. at least the crowd is willing to help him to escape...perks of now being a local celeb! even the kids at school are accepting :) this is what, the third time his family has found out? its always been an alt timeline tho. and danny fully intending to just rewrite things again instead of...I dunno, trying to roll with it this time? hes really worried his family won't accept him, huh...

-'maybe our son IS THE GHOST BOY, but its not as if our family's ghostly activities have EVER PUT YOUR FAMILIES IN DANGER' maddie. mmmmmmmmmmmm. okay.

-danny 100% prepared to run away from home because of this :( oh :( and saying his parents are 'looking for him, or a scalpel to dissect him with' ouch...

-THE GUYS IN WHITE TRYING TO ARREST A 14 YEAR OLD. fuck da feds.

-side note (another one about voice actors...) freakshow's voice actor, Jon Cryer, was lex luthor in pretty much every DC tv show, which is why I recognized his voice, because my dad loves those shows so I've seen a good bit of them without seeking them out...)

-the old man saying 'hey, i still had minutes left!' and danny saying 'you gotta watch those roaming charges!' about danny destroying the people in the diner's phones so no one could report seeing him...would kids today understand these things. can you even BUY minutes anymore...I remember my first phone being a flip phone, and the fact I always had minutes when my sister ran out super fast, because I didnt have friends calling or texting me like she did...:/

-the fentons being genuinely like 'why didnt danny trust us and tell us this, we love him :(' and JAZZ LAYING INTO THEM WITH THE 'DISSECTION/MOLECULE BY MOLECULE' LINES. LITERALLLLY. they need to apologize

-technically, lydias stronger than you! -jazz lesbianism moments! when did you even learn her name!!! but also get freakshows ass. lydia is also cooler looking. looove her design sm still.

-jazz psychoanalyzing freakshow... (also, her also having ghost envy? au where jazz is a ghost!! id like to see it)

-im glad the kids still got to go to their respective vacation things, even if they cant really stick around and enjoy them much...

-furry: confirmed. (also tucker calling her hot. tucker is a furry confirmed)

-danny being mad someone at the comic con is selling comics of him without permission, lmfao. give him his royalties!

-freakshow > thanos because hes a drama clown and does use his gauntlet to be FLASHY AND DRAMATIC.

-jazz's 'USE PYSCOLOGY' to danny about freakshow LMAOO. AND THEN IT WORKING. but, oh, freakshow's ghost form sucks. I like him as a clown better tbh. good thing danny took away his ghost powers!

-his parents hugging him and saying theyre proud :"( and saying 'of course you lied to us, we never gave you a reason not to!' and saying they were in the wrong basically for always talking about hurting ghosts aaaa :""(

-then he WIPED THEIR MEMORIES AGAIN!!! FUCK. I can understand him wiping the goverments/student bodies' memories, but why his parents?? they were being accepting!! ARGHHH. season 3 couldve been them all trying to adjust to them knowing!

-I know, on a meta level the showrunners probably wanted to just reset things to the status quo of him having a secret identity. But. We've been doing that for (2) seasons, I'd love if season 3 could be like, his parents adjusting to this and trying way harder to learn more and accept it (and the shenanigans that could come from that) and for fun, if he didn't wipe the students memories, it could be him being popular for a while, then everyone slowly realizing, oh, he's still Danny. Like. he might have ghost powers but hes Just The Same Guy instead of putting him on a pedestal (and seeing them all try and help him hide it from the giw/people who don't know!!)

-fuck they didn't even explain WHY he wiped everyone except sam, tucker and jazz's memories. he just Did It right when his parents were saying they loved/accepted him!! and sam and tucker didnt question it at all!!! HELLO??? very annoyed about this turn of events.

-anyway. onto season 3! I know its shorter than the first two seasons, and is the last season... I might just do it in 2 bursts if I can... :3c depends on the episodes' content and how much I want to say about each!

#sanchoyorambles #danny phantom #dp thoughts

[lovelyirony]

hi! so. a while back (like, a good while back) I found a fanfic for you and you said something about a story/short thing in return? I said I'd take you up on it, but then took an extended leave of absence from Tumblr and never did. anyways, im feeling things about gay dads and also Peter Parker and I was wondering if you could do something with iron husbands and tony's many adopted children, both bots and otherwise? idk. you're amazing.

The first kid that gets adopted, in a sense, is Dum-E. He’s the product of a lot of “you can’t do this” energy. 

People really do think that Tony and Rhodey aren’t capable of creating an Artificial Intelligence unit that can think for itself. 

The final nail in the coffin is when Rhodey is visiting the Stark family home and Obadiah Stane treats their goal dismissively. 

When they get back to their home in Boston, Rhodey sets his jaw. 

“We’re making that fucking system, Tones. I don’t care what happens.” 

“So what you’re saying is that we’re disregarding our previous agreement about limiting lab rules?” 

“Yes. Null and void until we bring this fruition.” 

This is a very important rule. Despite what most would think, Rhodey and Tony are capable of setting limits and following them. But if there is no physical reminder of that rule, then they can ignore it. 

(This is actually just the excuse that they make up so that they can make Machiavellian machines.) 

Dum-E spins around and ruins at least three pairs of socks that Rhodey leaves on the floor. 

“At least you finally stopped that habit,” Tony says. Rhodey rolls his eyes, watching as Dum-E finally realizes that he cannot possibly open the door to the porch and will stop bumping up against the glass. 

"He’s an idiot,” Tony says fondly. 

“Took after his mama,” Rhodey jokes. Tony slaps his arm. 

“Hey!” 

- 

The second and third are twins. Kind of. Both of them absolutely insist that they are not twins because they are very different. After all, U likes alternative pop, which Butterfingers finds simply unforgivable. 

Rhodey and Tony didn’t know that the other was making a robot. Dum-E was lonely, and their anniversary was coming up. 

They both decided to make Dum-E a sibling and laughed as U and Butterfingers basically rolled up to each other and immediately tried to fight. 

“So...who’s first?” Tony asks. 

“Hm...U, I think.” 

Butterfingers sulks. She’s youngest by one day, and U will never let her hear the end of it. 

“I know baby girl,” Tony coos. “But you look so pretty. Look at how nice your dad painted your display!” 

It is rather pretty. It’s all cool with yellows and blues. Dum-E is a jealous. 

- 

Jarvis is more Tony’s than anything. Made after a lonely Christmas. Not the one that most people think. 

Edwin Jarvis died in late November. 

Tony didn’t rest until it was done. 

They sob together as Jarvis states the weather in a crisp, accented tone that sounds so much like the original. 

- 

The siblings all get along like a house on fire, although Rhodey swears that Jarvis loves to instigate drama when Tony doesn’t need it. 

This is how Dum-E and Butterfingers get into a week-long feud about whose turn it is to close the fridge door. This is a Very Important Job. 

Jarvis makes it worse. 

“You are trying to kill me,” Rhodey says, scowling. “You know your brother and sister would fight.” 

“I am a learning program, Colonel Rhodes.” 

“Don’t call me that. Call me anything but that.” 

“Confirmed, Private Rhodes.” 

“I hate you.” 

“You wouldn’t visit my creator so much if you truly meant that.” 

Rhodey gives him the bird, and Jarvis almost huffs. 

He’s an amazing kid, really. 

- 

The next kid isn’t for a while longer. It’s not until a year after the actual event, that Rhodey wasn’t there for. 

So he went by Iron Patriot for a while. Didn’t stick. He’s kind of glad it didn’t. 

This one didn’t even know about Rhodey, which is a travesty. 

It’s a snot-nosed little tween who says he’s not a tween, and his name is Harley Keener. 

“Tony Stark and I are connected,” he says stubbornly. Rhodey let him into the house, not like he’s going to just make this kid stay outside. 

“Like what, through an email chain? Texting?” 

“Life experience,” Tony says. “Hey kiddo. Who the hell let you take a bus all the way here?” 

“Bus drivers.” 

“Ha ha. Where’s your mom?” 

Harley tenses. 

His mother got a new boyfriend. New boyfriend didn’t like Harley or his little sister. Little sister is living with an aunt, and Harley didn’t want to live there. So here he is, in New York. 

“You don’t have to take me in, but I won’t stop bothering you,” Harley says. 

Tony sighs. 

“Come on in, kid. Like I’d let you do anything else.” 

It’s complicated. Rhodey realizes he’s dealing with another Tony with a bit more stubbornness to him and blistering genius. 

He calls his boss. 

“I need to put in my two weeks.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

“I am.” 

“Why?” 

“Let’s just say I got preoccupied by surprise.” 

“Don’t tell me your guy brought home another bouncing baby robot.” 

“Well...not really. This one’s human.” 

“Christ.” 

Harley loves New York. He manages to navigate far easier than Tony ever could, and he grew up there half his life. Harley learns which bodegas are good, and what food trucks he needs to watch out for. 

He also adjusts to school far easier than expected, although the environment is much better. He’s being challenged, and he has people that can follow him. 

This is when Tony and Rhodey look into Midtown and discover a kid with a lot of promise. 

Spider-Man, technically, isn’t confirmed to go to Midtown. 

But Harley’s a bright kid and realizes that Peter Parker is Spidey. 

It also helps that the makeshift suit is hanging out of his backpack in a back alley. 

Peter gets an internship, and Rhodey laughs as Tony groans. 

“Oh my god, how do kids have so much energy. How.” 

“We were like that.” 

“No we weren’t.” 

“Do you forget we created Dum-E in, like, a week because we ignored the concept of time?” 

“Hm. I choose to forget that. It didn’t happen.” 

Rhodey laughs. 

- 

They all have family nights. The bots are particularly enamored with movies, and drag Harley and Peter out of the lab to watch them. 

It’s Butterfingers’ turn, and she always chooses a soft movie. This time, it’s an old silent film. 

Dum-E likes action movies, so this is not the favorite. 

“Hush, you got to choose last time honey,” Rhodey scolds. “Don’t make me cut off your turn.” 

Dum-E goes silent as Peter snickers, flicking a piece of popcorn at U, who is currently trying to rearrange the furniture. 

(He’s decided he wants to watch videos about interior design this month. He’s very invested in Manifesting His Vision.) 

- 

Tony smiles at Rhodey across the way. Harley had said he wasn’t tired, and now his head is on Rhodey’s leg, and he’s out of the world. Peter’s getting there, yawning into the pillow he’s decided is his. 

U has gone to “charge” although he says he’s Fine, No Charging for Him! 

(Jarvis has to laugh.) 

- 

It’s not the typical family lifestyle. But Tony and Rhodey want anything but typical. 

#anyways i want the bots being Funny and here it is #bot fic #family fic #rhodeytony #ironhusbands #peter parker #harley keener #i was going 2 write a bit more but i am tired and i liked the ending a lot :) #i hope y'all do too! #lovelyirony writes #jarvis #dum-e #u #butterfingers #iron man #war machine

[h-a-d-i-t-h-i]

Someone is babysitting a little girl. But the little girl is a 300 year old vampire and the hole thing has more of a visiting a sweet old lady vibe.

Title: You Make Ends Meet Word Count: 1300 TW: Blood, vampires, drugs Summary: Riley makes $2000 for a weekend of work.

I’m good at making ends meet. I’ve got an apartment in Brooklyn that I share with three other people, but even then rent’s not cheap. I’ve got friends in high places that make it manageable.

One of them owns a bar that I pick up shifts at whenever they’re short-staffed - under the table kind of payments. Around Christmas, there’s always someone who knows someone who needs retail work, so I pick that up too.

Emily is the real moneymaker though.

She works in fashion and spends way too much time around rich people. Not Bezos rich. They’re not the kind of people buying boats on a whim, just the kind of people who throw out their clothes every year and think spending a grand on boots is a reasonable expense.

People like that need housesitters and dogsitters and babysitters and Emily knows how to wink and imply that an agency isn’t worth their time and she can find them someone better. I’m the something better, and I’m pretty sure that I’m not better. Doesn’t really matter. Money is money.

Emily hooked me up with babysitting someone’s eight-year-old for the weekend. It was an easy live-in gig with all the food I wanted in the house, a credit card to order out, and the sweet sum of two thousand dollars at the end. Which was weird. Even for rich people.

A few Zoom calls with the exhausted parents explained that Mary was precocious - which is one of those words rich people use when their kid sucks. That made things line up. I expected a little shrieking brat who’d spend the whole weekend throwing tantrums, demanding some weird takeout from some fancy organic place, and a neverending loop of her favorite Disney movie.

I walked in and found myself face to face with a little weirdo. She was too short for eight and had this round face thick with baby fat that would’ve made me guess five at most. She was a real pretty kid though - monolid eyes and tanned skin and a button nose that made her look like a doll come to life.

“Hey, Mary.” I dropped my duffel bag and crouched, hands on my knees in that way you greet little kids. “I’m Riley. It’s nice to meet you! Did your parents already leave?”

“I’m afraid so,” she said, with an accent out of Downtown Abbey. Her voice was smooth, none of the odd stutters and breaks for air most kids had. “Very rude of them not to say hello, but I can show you where everything is, dear.”

Dear. That was precocious. I followed her around on a tour, wondering if I had somehow signed up to babysit Benjamin Button. The apartment felt creepily still. The massive four-bedroom place felt like a set - the walls were cluttered with design, but nothing was out of place. Though honestly, that’s not weird for rich people either. They love to clutter a place up with stuff and pay a maid to fix it up for them - but even maids could only do so much with a kid running around.

But Mary was precocious, I guess. And, you know, at the time, I didn’t even notice that in all that decor none of those rooms looked like they were for a kid.

By the time we were back in the kitchen, I was focused on the fridge, looking at the emergency numbers and credit cards that were all stuck to the fridge with a magnet. I didn’t see Mary get on her tiptoes to snag a muffin off a tray in the counter, but she was pushing it up towards my face sure enough.

“Would you like a muffin?” she asked. “You look like you’re wasting away.”

I raised an eyebrow as I took it from her hands. Wasting away, alright. Off came the wrapper and I shoved a bite in my mouth as I kept reading. I nearly spit it out. 

There was sugar in it, sure, but there was also a strong, bitter, earthy taste that made me want to gag. That was how organic health nuts made their food. I’d had my fair share of skinny rich ladies insisting their carob avocado pudding tasted just like the real thing.

I choked down the swallow and set the muffin on the counter. “I’ll save that for later, Mary. I’m not hungry.”

“I’m starving.”

I took the plate of muffins from the counter. Fuck, it was heavy. Slick. My hands felt oddly slick on the clean, white ceramic. “There’s plenty,” I said, and my mouth seemed too small for my tongue. I felt the weight of it as it moved.

“Muffins are a sometimes food, dear,” she said in that sweet, oddly British voice. Her little hands reached out, taking the heavy plate from my hands. So fucking heavy. The room seemed to shift under my feet, my knees too weak to hold up my gasping body. My hand gripped the countertop, and it was shaking. Every finger trembling as the room tilted and tilted and slipped.

“I need more iron in my diet,” Mary crooned.

She looked so fucking weird. Hungry. And smart. Fucking precocious. I tried to move my mouth but the floor ripped up from under me. The tile under my feet become a wall, and I slumped against the counter. Slid to the floor.

Out like a light. ——- When I woke, I was on the couch. The big-screen plasma was tuned to the Gameshow Network, and I tried to focus as buzzers blared through the fog in my ears. My arms and legs were all heavy, numb. My whole body didn’t feel like mine, and I wiggled my toes and rolled my head with a sleepy snort.

My wrist was hot, but it was a nice kind of hot. When I looked down I thought there’d be a cup of tea, or a throwaway Starbucks cup, but it was Mary. Her hair was knotted in a bun, which was pretty cool for a kid her age to do all on her own. Her face was bent like she was kissing my arm. That was kind of weird for an eight-year-old, but kids mouthed stuff, sometimes. Maybe she needed one of those chew necklaces.

And then I thought “oh fuck that’s some blood”.

There was dark red trickling from my wrist, down my arm to the brown towel beneath me. Couldn’t really get my heartrate up to feel scared in the first place, but I sighed with relief anyway. “Dude, I could not have paid for this couch.”

Mary looked up, and as her lips left my hand they were stained dark red, shiny and wet with syrup-thick blood. There was a smear of blood on her chin, and my other fingers twitched to wipe it clean, but I couldn’t make them move. Oops. Bad babysitter.

She smiled, red-streaked on her teeth and tongue and she spoke, blood mixed with spit stretching in her mouth. “Don’t worry. It’s just the weekend. I’ll take good care of you, dear.”

I sighed, watched as she went back to my bloodstained wrist with small, childish sucks. Fuckin weird. Like being a wet nurse. Wet nurse to an eight-year-old. Rich people do that too - feed their kids milk until they’re twelve or some shit. My mind fuzzed as contestants on the screen shouted for no whammies. Colored lights flashed. I could fall asleep like that.

“Two grand’s a good price for blood,” I said, and it was. You didn’t get those selling platelets at the clinic. Two grand if I lived. That’d cover rent for a bit.

I closed my eyes with a little laugh and hoped Mary would let me have something that wasn’t a rancid organic muffin for dinner.

#writing #oc #prompt #vampires #tw blood #tw drugs #Anonymous

[i-need-air]

Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader – Man on a mission.

Summary: Reader is an exchange student at UA, althought she could only stay one year. This is the journey and separation. What would Bakugou do once he realizes the girl he loves leaves? Could be angsty, but I promise a happy ending. 

Word count: ~3k.

When they first met neither of them cared about each other. The girl, too focused in eating the world and showing everyone her worth, barely gave him a glance the first day of school. Having transferred from the most prestigious American School for the year, working so, so hard to get there through a scholarship, [Y/N] was ready to kick ass, take names, get mediocre grades in Japanese History and get the attention of the top heroes of the world for her next internship. So, they just didn't care about each other.

But over time, as she got close to people in the 2-A class, even 2-B, her attitude and determination caught his attention. At first the girl pissed him off, being just an extra that will disappear in a year and will never see again, yet why was he staring so much? How come his eyes followed her figure as she walked away with Round-Face? How come he focused his attention on her too adorable giggle as dumbass Kaminari tried and failed miserably to flirt with her. And how come his friend pissed him off when he did that anyway? Oh, and let's not talk about how he never ever looked at her train, obviously not admiring her moves, her quirk, that look in her eyes. How he tried so fucking hard to not smile when she messed up a Japanese word and asked anyone around her how to pronounce it, giving no shits and only caring about getting better. He definitely didn't care about how she complimented his food that one time and Bakugou, the snake that he is, somehow manipulated Mina into convincing [Y/N] to cook with them, neither girls noticing him puppeteering the whole situation. So the [h/c] girl ended being part of the Bakusquad in record time, cooking and studying started to be a norm to do together. He didn't care that he got a whole zoo on crack in his stomach as she taught him how to cook food from her home-country or how good she smelled when she leaned closer to his frame, both sitting in his room, books spread around them as she questioned something about grammar. He definitely didn't lose his breath when she casually asked him if she could call him Katsuki, earning a grunt and a Do what you want. from the boy, ears flushed.

But Bakugou was hesitant. Of course he was, she was going to leave at the end of the year yet after the first internships started he realized that he's gonna miss that giggle. Her everything actually. And maybe they'll never see each other again. The boy had his own goals, he wanted to reach number one, he wanted to be the best. Was she a distraction? Because he never considered her one, daring to say he's more driven now... Was it a stretch to consider her made for him? Because that's what he thought all the time and these feelings were eating him alive. In a cool manner, he still had to maintain his reputation, excuse you.

[Y/N] [L/N] had a crush. A big crush on a rather abrasive young man. The moment she realized an overwhelming feeling engulfed her, taking away the very needed sleep as the following day she'd intern with the Hawks. Yet getting zero sleep that night, reality slapped her so hard she didn't even feel fatigue for 36 hours afterwards.

Bakugou Katsuki stole her heart and it was doomed for heartbreak. So separation and moving on was the plan.

Although it seemed like something went over her head. She fell in love with a stubborn motherfucker, yet neither of them knew at the time the lengths he'd go just to be together.

After some time of avoiding each other everything felt wrong. Studying wasn't the same, food didn't taste as good as before when she wasn't half moaning half praising his efforts, her cute way of pronouncing things actually turned into a good accent and even if a time came for the girl to ask for correction, [Y/N] decided to ask anyone else but him. Both were getting stronger separately, finding other training partners and things started to slowly go back to what it was at the beginning of the year, leaving a sour taste in Bakugou's mouth. How come she stole his heart? And how come now she was breaking it without noticing?

And here they were, together sitting outside their living quarters, just staring at the darkening skies, both lost in thought. Once strangers turned into friends and now back at the beginning. Yet the air was calm as it always was between them, like old friends meeting after years of not seeing each other even when they met every day.

"I'm gonna miss this place..." she muttered, gulping down the uneasiness rising in her throat. One more month and she'd leave. One more month and whatever they had would be erased forever. "I'm gonna miss you..." she whispered, deciding it was the time to take this burden off her chest once and for all. For herself, her well being, to explain her shitty attitude although his wasn't better. "I'm... I'm gonna miss your stupid face..." came out in another whisper, lips trembling as she avoided his eyes but when she heard a broken chuckle, strained and forced, her eyes snapped towards him.

His palm was covering his eyes, heart in his throat, not believing that everything lead to this moment.

"You spent too much time with me, dumbass." she blinked stupidity, precious orbs watching him carefully not even trying to hide the shine of tears appearing. "You sound like me now." she chucked too, bitter and quiet.

"I didn't spent enough time..."

And everything just turned back to what they had. As when they were alone in one of their rooms, sharing stories, watching movies, listening to music, each doing their own thing in harmony. So they talked, curfew approaching rapidly but there were many things unsaid. There was no clear confession but her little moment of truth opened a door that has been closed for both of them for a long time now. Actually... Not only the door, all the windows and doors were now wide opened, barricades and walls demolished down and everything flowed naturally. Who would've thought? Katsuki told himself while walking her to her door. He was soft, he has forgiven her in an instant for all the zig-zagging around him, feeling relieved since he felt guilt for doing the same. The stupid dancing around somehow ended when they reached her room, silence filling the air.

"You're a dumbass..." he said yet didn't know if it was thrown to [Y/N] or to himself. The rich laugh earned from her made him smirk. God, how much he missed it.

"You're the one to talk?" she pushed his shoulder gently, yet for the love of god, none knew what the fuck this conversation was really about. Before she could retreat the hand thought, he grabbed it, palms sweaty, fingers surprisingly gentle.

"[Y/N]." he responded, that zoo on crack in his stomach seemed to take life again. They didn't have much time anymore.

No verbal confession was made that night, both scared, terrified of voicing out anything that would instantly throw them back towards their concerns. Yet the sweet, slow kiss they shared got imprinted in their memories forever.

Her third year passed rather quickly, yet this time she was more glued to the phone. Many of her old friends noticed, inquiring who was the boy that she was talking to so much, all in teasing manner, none noticing how her lips would flatten and her expression fell for one second before answering back in a similarly teasing way too. Training, studying, going out with friends but never looking at another guy the way she looked at Bakugou Katsuki. Time flew while they both found a way to stay in touch, as limited as it was through the time zones and goals they individually had to reach.

Memories of their last month reconnecting and stepping up into a new world together, almost together but not official, sneaky kisses stolen from time to time, teasing each other but always with a hint of uncertainty, hugs that lasted a little bit too much yet none caring, cuddles and whispers when alone. But nothing else. Oh, how she regretted it. Not kissing him harder, not hugging him longer. Not telling him clearly that she loved him. Not crying when they parted ways because she sure as hell felt like doing so. They only promised to stay in touch when finally getting a time alone on that last fateful day. Being surrounded by her new friends crying around her, saying their goodbyes and promises of meeting somehow someday. That's when he snatched her for their final time alone. That's when she told him to not forget about them, yet again, never addressing their feelings. And he grunted at her, stoic, constipated looking, a face she'd normally make fun of if it weren't for the gravity of the situation.

But they messaged at odd times, they'd create inside jokes and they'd talk on the phone, his voice always doing things to her.

"I've seen the fight, you were amazing!" she said while carefully picking his face in the voice call, re-learning his expressions, remembering caressing the same cheekbones that now were bruised after a big fight in his internship with Endeavor that could all be seen online.

"Course I was, woman." he said, small yet boyish grin on his face. [Y/N] wanted to laugh, tease and be normal around him in this limited time together but Jirou's words stopped her.

"It's insane. The Bakugou Katsuki has a fan-base now! Like... Girls confess to him every week, he gets love letters! Kirishima makes fun of him but we all know he's jealous–"

Keeping in contact with the people from UA was a blessing and a curse, the latter because of those words. He changed so much, people were starting to see him for what he really was and a selfish voice inside of her was screaming that only her could know this side of him. And at the same time feeling she'd never deserve him.

Without being able to bite her tongue, she inquired.

"So I heard you have fangirls now." bright smile way too shiny, her discomfort was so obvious even through the screen.

"Hah?" was his only answer, leaning closer to his Webcam with a frown.

"A little birdie told me." she shrugged, playing it cool, perfectly knowing she'd never be able to play anything cool to save her life.

"And who gives a shit 'bout that?" I do... almost was her reply. But no, she had to squeeze her own heart and milk the pain out of it.

"I mean, haven't you thought about it?"

"Think about what?" he rasped rather angrily.

"You know, having a girlfriend and so on...?"

"What...?" his disbelief clear on his face, suddenly morphing into anger, now clear and raw. "What the fuck are you even saying, [Y/N]!?" he shouted, breathing heavily. "Are you trying to tell me somethin'? Cuz if you are, you better say it clearly!"

"I–" I'm jealous, you deserve someone by your side, I love you. Please, don't look at someone else. Please, don't kiss someone else... Please, be mine.

"Yano what, I'm done for today, fuck off, will ya?" and with a growl, he finished the call.

The promise she made herself about not crying was slowly breaking, her reflection in the now dark computer screen showing her idiotic self about to burst in tears but she clearly didn't reach that point when an incoming call interrupted her self pity.

"Like fucking shit I'd let go of what we have, dumb woman." is all she needed to hear that day and she did.

"So it seems I need to work a year in America before I could have a contract with any other Hero Agency. Hawks made it clear that he wants me back as his side-kick with Tokoyami but..." It hurt, stupid laws and contracts and scholarships and feelings. Stupid life and stupid everything.

"Only a year, huh?" he said on the other side of the line.

Looking for a roommate was tough. Wanting to put an ease on her rent and to save money for a future she was starting to see more clearly, the woman had some interviews with some potential roomies but none were convincing. Maybe she was picky, but she got this apartment first, picked the best room and her landlady gave her full permission to pick anyone for her. Which was a blessing, really.

So the cat girl with 4 cats was an option. The guy that eyed her a little bit too much was out of the equation. There was another guy scheduled to come see the apartment that afternoon and, the best part, she was getting a package from Katsuki. He offered, actually. Said something about new house gift, brushing it off casually with his trademark snide remark about how he'd send her some cleaning shit. What an asshole, but hell, even if he did send her cleaning products, she'd cry out of happiness.

The guy talked to her through messages, asking basic questions and nothing more. Time to give another tour and talk about rent was coming yet she silently decided to give this guy a nice brief chat, throw him out and look for a girl roommate, even if Bakugou said it didn't matter and should interview both. "You know, to get it over with." little voice still screaming she'd mind if he had a woman as a roomie, but then again, they were nothing...

As 3 P.M. approached, she got a message.

From [Random dude #2 David]:

"I'll be late, hope you don't mind."

Of fucking course he was going to be late. The first impression? Annoying. What if she had things to do? Like wait for a package and then call Katsuki to open it with him there. Random David was pissing her off already.

Half an hour later the doorbell interrupted her thoughts as she stared blankly at her phone. The last messages she sent her... friend didn't actually reach him. And it's been 10 hours? Maybe he was called on a mission. But already? Endeavor surely didn't waste time, huh?

With a sigh she opened the door, ready to greet Random David when her eyes landed on a suitcase in front of her door. Her ears perked at the sound of another suitcase rolling towards her door, basically making her freak out because Random David was definitely not going to live with her now. And slowly, a guy came in her field of vision and the world stopped functioning.

Bakugou Katsuki, with a box over one of his shoulders and as she guessed, another suitcase in hand, reached her door, elevator ding snapping her out of her... uh... dream? Fantasy? Back shirt, dark jeans, messy hair and The Look™ he always had for her.

"Well, I'm here to look at the apartment." he grinned, about to burst into an ugly laughter at her dumb face. Everything until this point was worth it because that face? That face was all he needed. Yeah, the dumb mouth opening and closing, eyes big as plates, frozen in place.

"If you..." she muttered. "If you fucking tell me you're David, I will end you..."

"Ya better not call me that, woman." he said, taking a step towards her, putting the baggages down.

"Are you really here...?"

"What does it look like, huh? Now let me in, I need to sit down, I fucking hate long flights."

Rushing him in, hands trembling, words stuttering, [Y/N] [L/N] was in awe at the man in front of her. She knew, she definitely knew he was absolutely amused by her reaction but there was no helping it.

"You're here..." pulling him inside by his hand, it was so warm, just as always. "Holy shit, you're here."

"Aha, but don't get used to it, woman." he said, leaving the suitcases behind him, arms just wrapping loosely around her waist.

"Huh?" he touched her face, the scent of nitroglycerin invading her nostrils. Same scent she missed so much in the past year.

"Only for a year, then I'm taking you back home with me, understood?"

Although she didn't reply, she couldn't, as she only pulled the collar of his shirt towards her, ready to make up for all the time they threw away. So their lips met and their new life started.

Endeavor worked closely with various hero agencies in America and Bakugou Katsuki asked to be sent there for a year, or more so demanded, leaving the older man speechless. Yet with a single word from Shouto, everything was set running and Bakugou knew he'd have yo return the favor to Icy-Hot someday, but for now she was all that mattered. So when he helped her apartment hunt (even long distance), when he told her to look into this or that Hero agencies (knowing they'd work close to his), when he'd tell her to not mind male roommates (even if he minded, he minded very much), it was all towards the surprise for her.

Bakugou Katsuki was a man on a mission and he realized that in his third year at UA. He was going to be number one. He was going to be the best hero ever. And he was going to have [Y/N] by his side. Always.

Notes: I'm leaving this here since idk man, I had too much coffee and wrote this without blinking. Correlation with the notes? Don't question it. Anyway!! Pretty please, tell me what you thought of it and if anyone here knows how to add the Read More mark on phone, I'd greatly appreciate it if you'd explained me how. I'm way too old for this, I swear, lmfao. Thank you for reading, seriously. Hope you enjoyed and have a great day! ♥

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #Bnha #Mha #my hero academia #my hero acadamy #boku no hero academia #bakugou is fucking extra #F!reader #Fanfic #Bnha scenario #Bnha fanfic #Long distance relationship but there's no relationship because plot reasons #Bakugou katsuki x reader #Angst #Fluff #Noire writes

[sonnetthebard]

if it's not too much to ask, could i request a continuation to the jane/linda switched at birth story? 😅

Absolutely! Y'all really like this, don't you?

Genre: Drama/ Fluff?

Words: 1588

TL;DR: Linda accidentally ends up telling Emma about he and Jane being switched at birth

TW: Swearing

Side note: if anyone has ideas/ sketches to elaborate on this headcanon... please do them and tag me. I wanna see them. I mean I’m kinda loving it.

______________________________________________________

Linda sipped at her coffee, sitting at one of the small tables in Beanies. She let her legs dangle a bit, blowing on her coffee to close it. For once it was piping hot. That probaby had something to do with the fact that she was now rather close with Emma Perkins, the barista who had made it. Jane's sister- her sister. And god, could she ever see it. How could her sister ever work in a cafe though? The cafe had technically closed about five minutes ago, but... the manager, Nora, was letting her and Emma Perkins stay a bit longer to have a chat alone. Emma sighed, bringing over her latte and siitting down with Linda.

"Your coffee okay?" Emma checked. "I know the coffee here isn't too great, but... I tried to make it a bit better. I put a pump of hazelnut in there, and-"

"It's wonderful. Thank you." Linda cut her off, sighing. "Was it a good day at work today?"

"Eh, same old same old." Emma chuckled. "People are assholes sometimes."

"Tell me about it." Linda scoffed, smirking. "Any fun stories?"

"Well... this one guy tried to actually make me *sing* for my tip." Emma rolled her eyes. "Because Nora mentioned while he as at the counter that she'd seen a cafe in god-knows-where doing it."

"Did you actally have to sing?" Linda winced.

"God, no." Emma snickered. "Listen, it's no official rule yet. There's no sign, and therefore Nora can't make me."

"Thank god." Linda laughed along with her.

"Hey!" Emma mocked offence. "I'll have you know that I'm a pretty great singer!"

"Really?" Linda quirked a brow, smirking.

"Oh yeah! I played Fiona in my high school production of Brigadoon." Emma smirked back, putting on the scottish accent for 'Brigadoon'. "I'm not really into theatre any more, but... I fucking killed that role."

"Interesting..." Linda sighed, just taking a look at Emma again.

Sometimes when Emma brought up these significant memories Linda couldn't help but feel a small pang of guilt. Because... she was this girl's older sister. She should have been there toshare those kinds of important moments with her. Not... not phony Jane Perkins. Who wasn't her sister. She liked Emma. A lot. Sure, Emma's life might be a bit grittier than her own, but... they had the same spunk. The same wit. Emma's was slightly less refined, and maybe a bit more crude, but it was there. In a lot of ways, it was like looking in a mirror. Both in looks and personality. That was, of course, if she had been a brunette.

"Hey, Linda, I've been meaning to ask you something." Emma bit her lip.

"Hm?" Linda hummed, indicating for her to go on.

"Why... why the sudden interest in me?" Emma asked carefully. "I mean, not that I don't love getting to actually get to know you- because you're great- but... I don't know. You're... you. You're rich, and your life is fabulous. And I'm me. A thirty-year-old barista at fucking Beanies."

"Well... I suppose I just felt drawn to you." Linda lied.

"Okay, no offence, but... bullshit." Emma sighed. "That's total bullshit! There's gotta be a reason."

"I simply noticed you at work, and... you reminded me of myself." Linda told her, inching closer to the truth.

"Really?" Emma blinked.

"You did... and you do. More and more with every second I spend with you." Linda nodded.

"But like... I know I'm repeating myself, but you're, like, fabulous. And I'm... me." Emma furrowed her brows.

"We've got the same spirit." Linda chuckled. "The same... spunk, if you will. The fire, and the sarcasm. We're peas in a pod."

"Is the sarcasm really that obvious just by looking at me?" Emma smirked.

"In the best way possible." Linda teased. There was a beat of silence between them as both sipped at their coffees.

"So... there was nothing more?" Emma checked.

"No... no, only that you're my sister." Linda sighed. A moment later she realized what she'd said.

"Pardon?" Emma blinked.

"I meant soul sister... sorry, it’s been a long day.” Linda chuckled nervously, hoping that would work.

"Okay, I would've believed that if you hadn't said anything, but... now that you've said it, it sounds so sketchy." Emma shook her head, stunned and suspicious. "What do you mean I'm your sister?"

"It's nothing. I misspoke." Linda blushed, looking to her feet.

"You're lying." Emma stated plainly. "I'm a little sister and a trouble maker. I read body language."

"Emma..." Linda pleaded, a pit in her stomach. She'd never meant to tell Emma. She had planned never to tell any of them.

"No, Linda. I want some fucking aswers." Emma demanded.

"No, you don't." Linda warned her. "Believe me... things will be a lot better if you just forget what I said.”

“No... Linda, you just called me your sister and then completely eliminated the ‘she’s jus being friendly’ context from the situation.” Emma stammered, clearly freaked out. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Fine.” Linda relented. “I didn’t want to tell you because... it’s fucked up, Emma. It really is. And it’s nothing I did, but... I still feel immensely guilty.”

“Just get to the fucking explanation!” Emma urged. 

“My parents- the people who raised me- paid a nurse off to switch me and your sister as babies... It was silly, really. They wanted a natural blonde baby.” Linda sighed. “All of that to say... Jane was never your biological sister. I was.”

“What the fuck...” Emma breathed, eyes wide. 

“That’s what I said when I read it in their financial files.” Linda sighed. She gave Emma a sympathetic look. “Now do you see why I didn’t want to say anything?”

“Um... yeah.” Emma nodded, still trying to take it in. “You’re my sister?”

“We can’t tell anyone, Emma.” Linda warned her. 

"Right...” Emma agreed. 

“It would cause too much of a fuss.” Linda sighed.

“Yeah...” Emma sighed. “So... what, did you start up this friendship because you felt guilty that your parents were heartless assholes who dumped their problem on my parents?”

“No. I did it because... if I had a sister, I wanted to know her. Even if she couldn’t know what she was to me.” Linda explained. “But... now you do, I suppose.”

“Yeah... I do...” Emma blinked. 

“Please... don’t be too mad at me?” Linda pleaded. “I genuinely just wanted to-”

“No, I’m not mad at you. You did nothing wrong.” Emma assured Linda. “Just... God. I always knew there was something fucking weird about Jane.”

“Really?” Linda quirked a brow. 

“Yeah... yeah, not even my parents understood where she got all the ambition and cunning from.” Emma nodded. “She was like... a total Slytherin. And I was very clearly a burnt-out Gryffindor. I mean, I’ve gone a little more Slytherin with my sarcasm over the years, but...”

“I’m sorry, a what?” Linda asked, confused. “Slithering?”

“Like... Hogwarts houses.” Emma checked. Linda stared blankly at her. “Oh my god... tell me my big sister knows what Hogwarts is...”

“I’m...” Linda started, before blinking. “Big sister?”

“Well, yeah... if you were switched with Jane, you’re my big sister.” Emma shrugged. 

“So... we’re alright, then?” Linda blinked. “Just like that?”

“Well... yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” Emma chuckled. “Look, it’s a lot to get used to, but... you’ve pretty much handled everything right. And... I really appreciate that once you found out, you wanted me in your life.”

“And I want you to know that I really did make an effort to get to know you right when I found out.” Linda assured her. “I only discoved it when I was going through my parents’ financials while planning their funeral.”

“Yeah, I can get why they would never tell you.” Emma sighed. “I mean... god. That was terrible. No offence but... they kinda sound like terrible people.”

“Well... just like Jane, they were very ambitious.” Linda bit her lip. “And they had a weird thing about keeping the blonde hair in the family.”

“They sound like the Malfoys.” Emma whistled. 

“The who?” Linda asked, not recognizing that name.

“Right. You don’t know Harry Potter.” Emma remembered. “Okay, you know what? I think Paul’s at D&D with the boys from work tonight, so I’ve got the house to myself. You should come over, and we’ll watch as many of those movies as we can cram in.”

“Oh... okay.” Linda agreed. “Harry Potter... that sounds familiar.”

“It’s kinda a huge thing.” Emma chuckled. “You’re free, right?”

“Gerald’s taking the boys night golfing tonight, so yes.” Linda smirked. “Is this going to make me finally seem like a cool mom to my boys?”

“Probably.” Emma smirked back. “Alright... do you need a drive to my place?”

“I would appreciate one.” Linda nodded, following Emma out the door. 

Perhaps that day staying late at a mediocre coffee shop had been the start of something beautiful. Or perhaps it had already started before. It was, at least, the day that Linda and Emma fully embreaced their sisterhood. And it really was only the beginning of their story. They would continue to blossom and grow together, and navigate what whas a confusing but worthwhile journey. It’s funny how sometimes you don’t know how much you need something until it’s handed to you. That sentiment couldn’t be any truer than it was with the two new sisters. Emma was precisely what Linda had always needed, and Linda what Emma needed. Finally, at long last, they could embrace that. 

#linda monroe #emma perkins #tgwdlm #black friday #nightmare time #hatchetfield #hatchetverse #jane perkins #switched at birth #tw: swearing #oneshot #one shot #fan fic #fanfic #starkid fanfiction #send more requests!

[coalhill-gothamsurvivor]

Thoughts on Fate: The Winx Saga episode one

Okay so I’ve only watched the first episode and the show gives me the same vibes as the Percy Jackson movies. And by that I mean if it wasn’t based off of anything it would be pretty good, but they are both horrible adaptations of the originals.

I like the intro logo. It makes me positive that at some point Bloom is going rediscover transformation magic.

Me at Stella:

Seriously why did they cross Stella with Diaspro!?! She’s such a bitch and she doesn’t have fashion powers.

I like that we are getting to see more of the Specialists. I’m mad they they aren’t exact adaptations and that they left out like half of my boys. However, they are all hot and badass so they nailed the spirit of the Specialists and I can be happy with that.

I think they did a pretty good job adapting Aisha and Bloom. My only complaints for them are their wardrobes. But Bloom in the flashbacks seems very out of character. Like it doesn’t mesh with how she acted in the cartoon or in the present in the show.

Fuck this show for making the Trix one person.

I really support them giving the Specialists British accents.

Solaria being a country instead of planet it weird.

Bloom testing her fire magic in the middle of the forest is so dumb, but honestly season one cartoon Bloom would do the same thing.

They are really inconsistent about Bloom’s relationship with her parents, because on FaceTime they seem really loving and close, but then the flashbacks and her finding memories to manifest her powers suggest otherwise.

It’s cool that you can apparently use FaceTime to call people in different realms. Apple to should really market that more 😂

I’m gonna be mad if they don’t make Bloom adopted, but at the same time it will send a weird message about adoption because of how they portray her parents.

Follow-up, why did they make Bloom’s mom such a bitch, but like only in the flashbacks?

Why does Bloom not question that she could be adopted when she had bright red hair and neither of her parents are redheads? Red hair is a recessive gene, it is extremely unlikely to have it if neither of your parents are redheads.

Terra gives me Hilda from CAOS vibes and I’m kind of here for it. I’d still like them to introduce her cousin Flora though.

I know Riven was always an asshole, but trying to get 1st years drunk gives of creepy seniors hitting on 14 year old freshmen in high school vibes and I’m NOT here for it at all.

They clearly made Musa a mind fairy instead of a music fairy solely for plot convince smh

You know who would be a good person to explain how the how Bloom’s iPhone works in multiple realms would be? Tecna

I like the idea of her parents not know she’s adopted, that will add a much more interesting layer to the story when she finds out who her biological family is.

Stella is straight up acting like Regina George after she found out Cady liked Aaron. This is pretty funny, but I’m also like 🤢 at Sky and Stella being a thing.

I’m so mad that they left out Kiko!!! Where is my adorable bunny 🐰!

They actually have me hella intrigued by the burned ones mystery.

Overall adaption rating: 2/10

Overall rating as a stand alone: 7/10

#winx club #winx bloom #fate the winx saga

[ironmansuuucks]

Home

dewey finn x fem reader

heyyooo, so imma do a little 3 part (?) dewey finn x reader series here about bringing Dewey home to meet family! it’s gonna be fluffy, a little angsty and majority of it will be based on my actual life and family, because they are something else lmao.. let me know if you enjoy! (also! I’m still working on your guys requests!

I got inspired for this from @texasblues because I honestly loved your fic so so so much and wanted to do my own little twist💜

warnings: fluff? the tiniest bit of angst?

words: 1600

Dewey chuckled when you pulled the covers over your head to block the sunlight and groaned. “Baby come on, it’ll be fun!” He chimed, his thick, sleepy morning voice was enough to send shivers down your spine. You peeled the cover off to reveal only your eyes, raising your brows at him. “You don’t know my parents” you matter of factly stated.

His arm snaked around your waist and pulled you on top of his chest. He was so warm. “Yeah but it would be good for you to go home for some time...” his hand moved up and brushed the hair away from your face. You rested your chin on his chest, looking up into his eyes and his sticky morning face, then up to that birds nest he called hair. “Home is wherever I’m with you” you smirked, reaching up to ruffle his brown curls, eliciting a little laugh from your sweet rockstar. His hand rubbed up and down your back soothingly and you could feel the way he chuckled below you. It was nice.

“No... going home home is different, and I know you miss it” he lifted an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ll think about it... it’s a long journey Dew..” you bit the inside of your lip. You did want to go home.. but home was exceptionally different from life here.

“Yeah but we can have so much fun on the plane! We can play the switch, we can watch movies.. it’d be awesome!” Dewey was all excited, you could here it in his voice. “And we can go in August, when the schools are off and I have summer vacation, and you have tons of holidays left to take!” He exclaimed, trying to get his point across to you. You smiled at his enthusiasm as you rested your head in your hand. Dewey’s hand came up and ran his fingers through your hair as he smiled at you.

“Dew... life over there is totally different from life here.. and the people are different, different humour, different accent..” you huffed out an amused breathe thinking about him trying to understand everyone.

“If they’re anything like you then I’m gonna love them” he chuckled as he rolled his eyes at you still trying to make up excuses.

“And you can show me all around, your school, places you used to go... it would be awesome! And I’d get to meet that family you always talk about” he moved to rest his hands under his head, relaxing.

“If I go home then 80% of the time will be spent with my family you know” you chuckled. You were super close with your family. And some size family it was. They meant everything to you, and you missed them so much.. but they were certainly an acquired taste.

You grinned at the thought of Dewey getting to meet them all. If he loved your humour, then he would certainly love theirs. You could show him the beach, and all the places you grew up and take him to all of your favourite places. Maybe it would be fun?

Dewey watched as your face morphed into a grin, and he knew what that meant. “Yeah?” He beamed.

“Okay yeah” you smiled, biting your lip. “Hell yeah! Now, stop biting your lip and start biting mine!” He flirted, rolling you over so he way laying on top of you, making you laugh. You pulled his head down to yours, laying a soft yet needy kiss in his lips. “Ok rockstar.. but your in for a shock let me tell you... my accent has severely dulled the past two years and it’ll kick back in as soon as the plane lands on the ground.. and it doesn’t sound like it does on the tv” you warned.

“Yeah yeah, I’ll be fine... plus, it’ll be kinda cool to see where the Young brothers were born.. OOO and to see the Loch Ness monster! and I gotta see a highland cow when I’m there or I’ll probably die...”

You rolled your eyes, this was gonna be fun...

 * * * * * *

 “Dewey… just pack the jacket” you sighed. Packing with him was hard. Dewey couldn’t get it into his head that he wasn’t going upstate to sunshine and shorts. Scotland was cold, even in august.

“Honey, I do not need a jacket I’ll be fine!” he (attempted) to fold his Def Leppard t-shirt, placing it in the suitcase sat in front of him.

You breathed in deeply, your eyes shutting, teeth gritted, trying to remain calm. This was all last minute. You and Dewey left for Scotland tomorrow, and had only booked it last month. It was all a surprise from your amazing rockstar, and you cried so many happy tears, but right now… you felt like the most stressed person on the planet.

Your eyes remained closed. “Dewey… pack the fucking jacket.. it’s going to be 22c max…” our hands were gripping the edge of the suitcase, remaining in control. Dewey’s eyes wandered over to you, and his eyes widened and his eyebrows furrowed. “okay.. okay” he looked from side to side, confused to why you were to stressed.

You sighed again, aggressively packing the rest of your clothes. His eyes kept wandering over to yours, until he had finished packing his t shirts.

“hey…” he walked around to you, taking your hand in his and pulling you to face him. “hey.. what’s wrong baby? this is supposed to be fun? Not stressful…” his eyes searched your face worriedly. Your eyes met his and you bit your lip as you looked into those caring, bright eyes. His thumbs rubbed the back of your hands soothingly.

You spoke hesitantly. “well.. this is the first time you’ll be meeting my family… and I want you to love them… what if you hate them? or hate home?...” you started rambling… “and we leave tomorrow… at 8AM… and you don’t get that its going to be freezing, and I just miss my family so much…”

“hey, hey, hey slow down baby” he cut you off as you caught your breath a little. “its going to be fine… you’re gonna be back with them in no time.. and I’m going to love it… and them.. I promise…” he looked down at you, smiling. You smiled back a little.. everything would be fine…

“and don’t worry… the damn jacket is in the case” he chuckled, pulling you into him and kissing your forehead.

Your family meant everything to you.. and you loved every bone in Dewey’s body.. and you truly hoped they would too… but you were worried that if you visited home… you might never want to go back to your life in New York with Dewey…

 * * * * * *

 Your anxiety didn’t stop there. The entire way to the airport, security, flying – it was all making you feel a little off. But your sweet Dewey was there to keep you from drowning in your own wicked head.

Dewey Finn was easily excitable, bouncy and he couldn’t sit still. Keeping such a ball of energy in a small confined space for almost 8 hours was a challenge.

He would bring his hand up to his face as if he was talking into a walkie talkie; “crshhh.. this is your captain speaking… this plane is indeed going to crash unless my super hot girlfriend shows me her-“ you cut him off giggling.

“Dewey! People can hear you” you hit his chest lightly a little. He giggled, putting his lips close to your ear, “what, you don’t wanna join the mile high club with me?”. He said it so dark, and it made you excited. “you wish… get lost you dork” you scoffed, looking out at the rolling clouds, your stomach doing a little flip.

You had gotten lost in the book you had brought with you, Dewey was humming to himself, his fingers dancing on your thigh, tapping to the beat of the song in his head, you always found it soothing.. but apparently not everyone did…

“hey pal, knock off the damn humming will ya?” the grumpy old man grumbled from the seat behind Dewey. The smile that grew on Dewey’s face was comedic, the edges of his lips curling up like a cartoon. His eyes widened before moving to look at you, and yours at his, when he suddenly burst out laughing.

Your eyes grew at him laughing, audibly so they guy behind could hear him. You gave Dewey a stern look, trying not to laugh too much at his antics, and brought your hand up to lightly pinch his cheek. He quietened down a little, grinning at you. He was like a little kid.

He brought his head closer to yours, “who took a dump in his coco pops?” he chuckled, making you smile and roll your eyes. Only five hours left. Reaching into your travel bag you reached for the Nintendo switch.

“fancy getting beat at mario kart?” you teased, hopefully occupying him for an hour or so. “pfft you wish… you know I’m the world best at mario kart babe…but maybe I’ll let you win a round” he winked at you as he took the blue controller.

Your eyes glanced over at Dewey mid game.. you admired his little concentrated face; his nose slightly scrunched, eyebrows furrowed, his tongue peeking out and resting at the side of his top lip, and his floppy hair covering his eye the slightest bit before his fore arm came up and moved it from his face.

You loved him so much… and you didn’t know what you would do without him… dewould be okay.. it was gonna be fine…

“sooo, is someone going to play bagpipes for us when we step off the plane?” he chirped, you rolled your eyes. Its gonna be a long three weeks…

tags:  @thewolfisapartofmysoul​ @texasblues​ @paxenera​​ @heknowshisherbs​​ @missihart23​​ @geminiacally​​ @go-commander-kim​​ @gegehaddock​​ @baby-beej​   @hoodoo12​​ @large-unit​​ ​ @bugdrinkss​​ @ssheinaa​​ @demonwifey​​

#dewey finn #dewey #dewey finn imagine #dewey finn x reader #school of rock the musical #Alex Brightman #scotland #cute #fluffy

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Runaway: Daniel Michaelson’s Story

CW: Threats involving guns stuck in bad places (NOT THERE), dehumanizing language, pet whump, conditioning, brainwashing, POV of heavily conditioned, hopeless whumpee/caretaker, muzzling, noncon touching, referenced noncon

Tagging Danny’s people:  @slytherynjolras, @whump-it, @bleeding-demon-teeth, @finder-of-rings, @spiffythespook, @burtlederp, @whumpywhumper, @18-toe-beans, @pumpkinthefangirl, @special-spicy-chicken, @whale-whumps, @swordkallya,

NOTE: This takes place approximately four months after Danny is abducted.

Nate loved Casablanca the best out of all the movies the body had left behind when Bram brought them here to stay. Not because of the actors, really, or even the filmmaking. 

He loved it because of Danny.

Danny knew all the lines by now, and he would say them along with the actors, mimicking their old-fashioned accents as he sat next to him on the couch after midnight, the two of them brushing against each other, trying to laugh in whispers at the same jokes over and over, and sometimes Nate put an arm around him and he leaned into it, and it almost felt normal.

Normal except for the deep red scars that dipped across the bridge of Danny’s nose and  notched into the sides of his jaw from the metal thing that Bram had fixed onto him after Danny called him a rapist to his face. Normal except for the bandages, the bruising, the bleeding that went on day by day, every time Danny failed to answer to Red or didn’t beg the right way or on his strongest days, refused to beg at all.

Nate, Bram loved - but there was no love with Danny. Only a cold, implacable, unpredictable violence. The only affection Bram showed the redhead was laced with reminders that he was less than, with the simple fact that Danny was, in Bram’s eyes, just the puppy - a glorified walking corpse. Danny maybe hadn’t understood that until the thing went on his face and he didn’t talk for two weeks, because he couldn’t, because Bram would not let him until he learned to behave.

Nate understood it. Bram was building a family, sort of, for as long as he allowed Danny to live. And Nate could only sit to the side, drowning in Bram’s eyes, and let the pain and degradation happen and pray that he could do enough to keep Danny together in the spaces between.

Life was normal - as much as living like this could be - except for the misery and anger that haunted Danny, dogged his every move, burned in his long silences and the way he froze up or spat bitterness every time Bram touched him, not smart enough to learn to lean into it, to fake it, to just go along to make it easier on himself. Not smart enough, or just not willing to watch himself turn into what Nate already was.

Danny was a ball of anger and unhappiness. All of that, and Danny’s righteous sense that there was supposed to be a better place, a better life, than this for the both of them… they were all feelings that Nate simply couldn’t access any longer.

Not since Bram had thrown Danny into the trunk of his own car. Not since he’d covered the backseat of that car with blood and left it in a ditch on the side of a highway. Not since… not since Bram had decided to keep Danny rather than kill him. 

What Danny didn’t understand, no matter how many times Nate tried to explain it, was that there was life before he had been chosen, and life after, and there was nothing else.

There is no life but Abraham. 

Danny didn’t know that yet, but… he would. He was already learning the rules, rules Nate already knew and other rules, too. He didn’t believe them, yet, but he would. Once the rules had crowded out all the room he had to believe anything else. 

Nate was cracked inside his head, now, and he knew it. He’d tried to pretend he wasn’t, when he was on the run, but life with Bram and Ashley had ruined him before he’d ever found the courage, just that once, to escape. He was even worse now. He flinched at loud noises and stuttered until he could barely be understood. He was everything Bram wanted in bed and never said no (he’d had never listened anyway), and who else could love someone who had let himself be rewritten so thoroughly?

In the life before Bram, he’d been stoic and dry-witted and a parade of one-liners, someone whose coworkers were never sure whether or not he was making a joke. Here, four and a half years since they had found him in a bar and decided to destroy his life, he was quiet, and if he looked into Bram’s eyes enough he was happy, and who could ever love someone like that?

Sometimes Danny looked at him with empty eyes, spent whole days curled up on his mat staring at nothing or worked hard on Bram's project of the day in total silence... or just looked down and nodded when Bram called him a good boy… and he wondered how much of Danny was even left. Enough to fight, sure, but even the fighting was a little bit less each day. 

It was okay. This was just Danny’s life now, and if he learned to accept it, he could start to feel better after that, to be happy again. He just had to know that this was his life now.

One morning, Nate woke up beside Bram with the sun shining brightly through the window, the air cool and crisp inside the cabin, chillier outside. Mid-morning, but that was normal. Bram slept late and Nate usually did, too, unless Bram had a project that would take long enough that an early wake up was needed.

Danny was always up before everyone else - at sunrise or even earlier, no matter how late they were up the night before. Especially as the weather had gotten colder - the leaves were brightly colored and falling off the trees in droves, making any trip into the woods to check on traps an exercise in crunching through underbrush. As it got colder outside, it was colder inside, and Nate watched Danny begin to shiver, day by day, the thin clothing Bram allowed him never, ever enough.

Nate woke up thinking of Danny, nearly every morning, and today was no exception. He stretched lazily, let a still-half-asleep Bram kiss him without complaint, and pulled on a loose pair of flannel pajama pants. He wandered out into the living room to find he didn't smell the usual fresh pot of coffee.

Coffee was one of Danny's jobs, and it was the only one he didn't resent, that he liked doing. They’d moved the coffeemaker into the living room so Danny could reach it on his chain, filling the coffeepot with water from the bathroom sink and measuring out the grounds in there, brewing it strong, the way Bram liked it. 

Today, though… nothing.

"Dan-… Red?" Damn. If he forgot to use the right name, Bram would get angry. He had to get better at it, but he always stumbled, because he was trying so hard to remember he was Danny inside his head. 

The mat next to the couch was empty, the blankets were gone, and Danny's chain was lying across the floor with no Danny at the end of it. Nate stared down at a single broken link on the end. He'd found a weak spot, Nate thought, an actual honest-to-God weak link in the chain. His heart dropped to his knees and then jumped back into his throat as he looked over to the kitchen and saw the inside door was still standing open, the screen door cracked.

No. No no no no.

Don't leave me, he thought helplessly. I need someone with me, don't make me love him alone. God damn it, Danny, don't leave me here without you, I need you here with me, I need you here. You’re supposed to be with us now.

Something in the back of his mind tried to tell him this wasn’t the right way to respond, but he had buried the part of himself that thought things like that, and it wasn’t a very loud voice any longer. 

"B-Bram, come out! C-c-c… c-c-cuh… damn it! Fuck! B-B-B-… Bram!”

Bram came stumbling out, and as Nate spun around he could see the genuine worry for him in his eyes, worry that he might be hurt, that Nate needed help - whatever Bram would consider ‘help’, at least. “What is it, Nate?” 

Bram’s eyes lit on the mat, and the chain, and the total lack of a Danny where a Danny was supposed to be. “Ah.” 

Bram stilled suddenly, and Nate took a step away from him as all the humanity and gentle affection and love he wore like a mask simply dropped off of him, like he’d shaken off snow. He stood like a predator. 

I’m just the luckiest kind of prey, Nate thought, and his vision was growing pale and foggy around the edges as he breathed in shallow, gasping pants.

Bram continued to stare down at the empty mat. “Puppy’s gone.”

“Y-y-yes, he’s g-g-gone, he r-ran away. He’s g-g-gone, he’s gone, he-” Nate’s hands went up to his hair, digging fingers into the black until it hurt, trying to calm his racing heart. Don’t leave me I can’t live without you. I can’t do this by myself all alone again, I can’t be his alone again. “He weh-... went into the w-w-woods, the woods, there are things in the woods, Bram-”

“Ssshhhhh,” Bram soothed, stepping over to him, putting his hands on either side of Nate’s face, leaning forward to kiss his forehead, gently. “Put your hands down.”

“B-Bram-” He dug his fingers in tighter. “Bram, h-he’ll die-”

“I said put your fucking hands down.”

Nate’s hands dropped immediately out of his hair and down to his sides.

“Breathe. In and out, Nate. In and out.” He followed Bram’s orders, he always followed the orders now, and felt his breath slowing down, getting deeper, almer. “Sssshhhh, calm down, baby,” Bram continued, his voice gentle and sweet. None of the predator here, none of the inhuman calculation behind blue eyes. “Calm down. It’s okay. I'm worse than anything out there, I've got you. You belong to me, nothing out there would dare touch anything that’s mine." One cold hand slid around behind his neck, rubbing gently, and Nate felt his heart start to slow under the touch, leaning forward until his head dropped onto Bram’s shoulder.

“He d-doesn’t kn-... know how to l-l-live in the w-woods,” He said softly, lips barely moving. Bram’s shoulder was cold, but he was always cold, more like a reptile than a man. "He'll d-die out there."

The cold felt good against skin heated with fear. 

No one’s going to hear him. No one’s going to hear him screaming for help. No one. Not even us.

“I know he doesn’t,” Bram replied, still rubbing at the back of his neck with his knuckles in a gentle motion, back and forth, up and down. “I know that, I don’t want him to know. Don’t worry, okay? I’ve been tracking game since I was eight years old, and he’s going to leave a trail as wide as an elephant’s. He won’t go far.”

“So you’ll g-g-go… go find him?” He could feel his throat finally relaxing, the stammer starting to settle. “You’ll b-bring him back? Back to me?"

“We’ll find him, baby,” Bram said softly. “Don't you worry about him. I don’t let dogs run away from me.”

“He’s not a d-d-d-duh… a dog, Bram.” He never stood up for himself any longer, only rarely stood up for Danny, but this… he had to try. He lifted his head, briefly meeting Bram’s eyes, trying to steel himself against the possibility that Bram would be angry. “He’s not a dog,” He said as firmly as he could, proud of himself when his voice was deep and solid and strong. “He’s m-my friend, h-he-... he’s part of us.”

“Okay,” Bram said softly, barely flickering an eyelid. Letting it go, for now, if not forever. “But he’s a very bad Red, isn’t he? He’s misbehaved, hasn’t he? He tried to leave you, baby, how dare he leave you.” Nate just let his head drop back down, unwilling to say the words, to play along with this game. “We’ll find him,” Bram repeated. “We’ll find him and we’ll bring him back home where he belongs.” 

Nate nodded, letting his fingers curl into Bram’s shirt, because he liked when he did that, he had always liked when Nate initiated affection. Some of the old disgust threatened to rise in him, the old loathing of them that he had tried so hard to hold onto. These days, though, most of that disgust and loathing he turned on himself, because if he didn’t love Bram, why even stay alive?

“Th-thank you,” He said quietly. “I love you. I-I want him back.”

Please, I just don’t want him to die.

“I know,” Bram said, and kissed into his hair at the top of his head. “I’ll get him back for you, Nate. Don’t worry.”

It was the wrong thing to think, the wrong way to look at it, but he had been with Bram a very long time, and he was tired and lonely and his mind was a constant nonstop loop of muffled screaming, and Danny was the only thing that ever made him feel anything else. 

“Th-thank you.”

 “You’re welcome,” Bram murmured. He pulled back and away then, and there was a cold smile on his face that Nate knew very well. “Let’s give him three days.”

“Th-three days? We’re n-n-not going im-im-im, im… right away?”

“Oh, no, that’s no fun. Three days is perfect. There's a cold front coming in tonight. He’ll be freezing and fucking starving by then. You and I will go find him, we'll split up and I’ll give you a good head start. If you find him first, I’ll let him live, okay, baby? Just for you. If I find him, I’ll fucking choke him to death and let him rot and grow mushrooms if he wants to be in the woods so badly."

Nate’s heart pounded again and he stared at the glacial eyes in the pale face and watched the movements of the darker things that lived behind them. He nodded, slowly. Bram had taught him how to track, how to find the trail of game and keep going until he found what he was looking for. It’d been a while, but… but he didn’t have a choice. 

“Th-thank you,” He said again, and the words dropped like stones. 

Bram looked at him, all but glowing with excitement. “Let’s have some coffee, Nate. I want to go over all the basics with you so this is at least a fair competition. I haven’t done this in so long, a competition for hunting someone. Not since…” Bram’s words trailed off, and a flicker of pain and grief was in his face. “Not since Ashley.”

Nate remembered. Ashley had games she liked to play, and one of them had been to bring a body conscious and kicking to a spot in the woods just outside the town in Tennessee, close to the mountains. They would set the body free, make a bet on who would catch them first, and hunt them down, the two of them cackling like demons while Nate stayed trapped in the house, waiting for them to come back arguing over who had truly won.

Bram was nearly crackling, like lightning brought to life, and Nate found it hard to look away. It had been so long, and Danny had given him the opportunity to go on a hunt, and Bram had always looked so good before a hunt - Nate had only seen him go out with Ashly a few times, but all the restless energy in him that turned to anger or the itch was smoothed out when he did, because it was only a matter of time before he walked the woods and ran the injured animal down.

Nate understood his own pain was a pale shadow of the ecstasy Bram and Ashley could take from those final moments of miserable fear.

But Bram loved him, anyway.

Nate moved over to the coffeemaker, staring blankly as his hands went through the automatic motion of adding coffee grounds to the filter, pouring in the water, and pressing the button to brew. 

I have to find him first.

---

In the end, he did.

He'd glanced back at Bram before he left, in heavy jeans and a flannel over his shirt, a hat pulled down low to cover his ears against the cold. Abraham Denner was just visible through the kitchen window, watching him while he sipped his coffee. The other man smiled at him, and he shivered.

I hate you, you fucking monster, you stole my life - and his. I hate you so fucking much.

He could still hate him. Not for long, but it was still in there. It just got swallowed up by the voice in his ear and the flat ice in his eyes.

Who would even love Red but us now, baby?

Those were Bram’s thoughts, the things he said sometimes when they were in bed and Danny was out on his mat sleeping in the living room, and Bram would murmur, I’ve fucked him up too much for anyone else, just the way we did to you. Remade him. Who would want him with muzzle scars on his face? 

I think they won't know what they are. It was a struggle to fight the disgust and the cold, clean hatred that tried to well up when Bram said the word, the name of the thing, the thing he never ever named. 

He'd have to tell them eventually. I'd pay good money to see the face of whatever body he tries to bring home when he has to explain where they came from.

He wouldn't tell them. He'd lie. He could still-

Could he? Bram chuckled, rolling into his side, letting fingers trail along Nate's shoulder and down his ribcage, over one hip. Could you still, after me, with anyone else?

He wanted to say yes. Instead, he thought of how even with Danny he hadn’t been entirely sure he was going to be able to do much that night he’d invited him over, and shook his head.

That's right. He's ours now. Now he knows that I’m in his head and marked on his body. Who would want him when he doesn’t know any other way to be but ours, the way he is now?

How is h-he, right n-n-now, to you? Nate closed his eyes, shifting in the bed as Bram's hand found its way across his abdomen, and slowly moved down. 

Half-broken and nearly feral for it, Bram said thoughtfully. If they found him tomorrow, those bodies he belonged to before, they would still know him. But not for long.

Nate had thought of the difference between the angry, hilarious, fucking funny man he’d started flirting with, and the quiet, withdrawn redhead that sat on the mat staring off into space.

He’d been a little shy before, although he had been eager enough when Nate had suggested he come over that night. Now he flinched every single time Bram touched him… but had learned to let his chin be tilted up for the kiss, to open his mouth when ordered, and he knew better than to try and stop it, any of it, no matter how violent Bram was.

He’d been shoved into the trunk still spitting curses, but after weeks in the thing - after months in the woods - he kept them mostly locked behind his teeth now. 

He’d grown up with staff and a cook - Mrs. Verona or something, which seemed like a weird Shakespeare reference more than a name to Nate - who did everything for him. Now he forced his hands into scalding water when cleaning without a word until they were so red he couldn’t stand to touch anything for hours afterward. He scrubbed the bathroom until it was cleaner than it had been when they’d moved in, he moved unconsciously around the kitchen picking up their dishes to wash after dinner. He’d burned himself on the oven once when he was still learning how to cook and hadn’t said anything until Bram had noticed the infected spot on his arm days later, and even then he’d tried to refuse the bandage and antiseptic.

No, Nate had said, quietly. N-no, I don’t think they w-w-w-would recognize him now.

Good. Bram had smiled, nearly asleep. I don’t want them to. I want him to be with us, a part of our family, our little Red. Yours and mine both - just like you were mine and Ashley’s.

Yours and mine, Nate echoed, and was frightened when he didn’t stammer or even feel anything but a vague relief at the idea that at least he got to have someone, too. 

He was losing his fucking mind.

As soon as he stepped into the woods at the edge of the clearing, he had a two-hour head start. If Bram found Danny, he was dead. If Nate found Danny, he would be brought back here, chained back up, back in captivity and back in hell.

 But he'd be here, with Nate, where he belonged.

For just a minute, he had hesitated, torn between what was probably the right thing - to refuse to chase Danny down like a runaway dog, even though Bram was probably right that he wouldn't last long by himself - and what he wanted - Danny here on the couch to watch movies with and cook dinner and, when he forgot he was miserable, to laugh with him.

No. There was no life before Bram. There was no life after. There was only now.

Finally, Nate had started walking, looking for the telltale scuffs, broken twigs, and disturbed underbrush Danny had left behind. Three days of placid windless sun and increasingly chill nights hadn't wiped any of it clean. He felt like he was an hour behind Danny, not three days. 

He even found a wavy red hair caught at Danny's height in a tree. When he went up on his toes to tug it out, he heard a strange sound and looked up - to see a white raven sitting on a tree branch twenty feet ahead.

It watched him with strange pinkish eyes, and Nate shuddered at the feel of something crawling up and down his skin. Then he caught sight of a bit of torn cloth further away, and when he looked back the white raven was gone. 

He crouched down to look at the bit of soft fleece caught in the bush. Red and black plaid - one of Danny’s blankets, his favorite, the one he always kept pulled the furthest up so it brushed his chin while he slept. It’d been Danny’s present for the first month he’d spent with them - Bram always knew the days, tracked the time, long after Nate had stopped knowing anything beyond whether or not the sun was up. He’d given Danny the blanket, and when he hadn’t said thank you, there had been-

No. He wasn’t going to think about what had happened every time Danny didn’t say ‘thank you’ for a gift. He wasn’t going to think about it, because he loved Bram, and he loved Danny, and he had to love them both or everything would collapse here into the reality that he was standing by doing nothing while Danny was slowly destroyed.

It would collapse under the weight of having to admit he loved Daniel Michaelson and even with that, could not save him.

Nate looked up.

He saw the raven again, further away, watching him. He had a wild, irrational thought that it was trying to lead him to Danny. It made no sense, it was just a fucking bird, but… he stood and walked after it, anyway.

It took hours. Morning turned to day turned to afternoon and Nate's neck began to prickle with nervousness. He ate a granola bar, drank some water from the metal bottle in his backpack. He'd be out here after dark at this rate, even if he did find him first. They'd be alone, in the dark, in the woods.

It was evening by the time he caught up with his trail - a trail that he thought had been moving slower and slower as time went by. Danny had no sense of direction and had even begun to circle back towards the cabin without realizing it. It was dark enough that he had his flashlight in one hand, not on yet but ready to use. The white raven was still just ahead, and he was starting to hurt, from having been on the move all day.

He would never leave Bram Denner again; he was tired of losing things whenever he tried.

In the dark, with his legs burning and the trees around him like silent gods, it felt strange here, almost like he’d gone back in time or space to something much darker. His heart pounded, half-convinced he'd turn a corner and see something his eyes could not explain.

"Fuck!" He heard from somewhere ahead of him, a hoarse half-whisper that carried through the twilight-silent woods. "Get off me!"

He looked around, realizing the white raven was gone, and stumbled forward, using the trunks of trees around him for balance, heart pounding. Where was he? What was real? Bram was real. The cabin was real. Danny was real.

He came around a stand of trees to a small clearing, hardly even worth calling that, with a fairy ring of mushrooms off to one side and… Danny.

Danny was very real, and he'd stepped right into one of Bram's goddamn animal traps, and the white raven was currently yanking on his hair as hard as it could with its beak while Danny swatted at it ineffectually. “Get the fuck off me! Where the fuck did you come from, you piece of shit?!”

“H-how did you even m-m-manage…” Nate said, and Danny jumped nearly a foot in the air from surprise - or he would have, if he didn’t have one leg still stuck in the trap. The raven fluttered back up into a nearby branch and sat, watching them. Pink eyes seemed almost to glow in the dark. “You couldn’t s-see the tr-... trap?”

There were sticks stuck in his red hair and smudges of dirt on his pale face, and that was a familiar sight. Danny didn’t look frightened, though. He looked furious.

Nate flicked the flashlight on and Danny winced away from the bright light. He was wrapped in the black-and-red plaid fleece blanket over a blue T-shirt that said be nice to me, I’m still learning. 

Bram had thought that was hilarious, bringing it back from a supply run after special-ordering it, forcing Danny to thank him for the gift while he kept one hand in his hair, running slowly through as Danny shook with anger and stared down at the floor.

Nate had had to leave the room, pretending he needed a nap, when Bram began to graze his knuckles across the back of Danny's neck, murmuring “It’s okay, it’s okay,” Nate had barely been able to hold the scream back behind his teeth and Bram had looked up to smile at him and he knew-

“I-I think I b-broke my leg,” Danny said in a thin, strained voice, pulling his mind back to the present. Nate moved over to look, head tilted.

“Probably not,” Nate said, noticing his own lack of stammer in a distant kind of way. He always had stammered less or not at all when he was truly alone with Danny, just the two of them. He tried to crouch, but his left knee protested at any attempt to bend it, and so finally he just shrugged and bent himself over as best he could, using the flashlight to take a better look. “Bear traps are m-made for bear legs, not people, and I th-th-think it’s just got you held, not b-broken. Bram wanted to see if he could make b-b-bear oil but he hasn’t c-c-caught one yet… Probably it broke the skin and you h-have one hell of a bone bruise.” 

“Bone bruise? Is that a thing? H-how do you kn-know all that?” Danny asked. Nate gently pushed some of the torn cloth from Danny’s pants away, and noticed his skin was damp and frigid to the touch as he hissed at the slightest brush of Nate’s fingertips against the bruising skin. Danny was shivering so hard the chain attached to the trap rattled a little.

“Ashley and B-Bram taught me about traps,” Nate said simply. “Danny, you’re freezing. Wh-when did you step into this?”

“Yesterday? Last night? It was already dark, I couldn’t see it, he’d put leaves on it.” Danny looked down, frowning, teeth chattering. His lips were a little blue-gray in his very pale face, and there was an odd glitter to his warm blue eyes. As the sun went down the warmth fled the forest, and the chill air prickled along his skin. “I think yesterday. I ran out of water yesterday, too.”

“Dumbass. You’re s-s-such a f-fucking dumbass,” Nate said, voice laced with affection, and he was smiling as he pulled a bottle of water out of his backpack and handed it over. Danny drank half of it in one go, and his stomach growled audibly. “Did you even bring any f-food?”

“A little. Not enough.”

“What was y-your fucking plan, R-... Danny?”

“I thought he was l-lying about his neighbors. I thought maybe if I got far enough-”

“This is C-Canada, Danny. Northern Al, Alberta or s-s-something. There’s n-n-no one around us for fifteen m-miles at least.” Bram had wanted to come here for the wilderness, the isolation. Space and time to make him perfect for you, Nate.

“You have to g-go back,” Nate said softly, and let himself thump into the dirt with one knee pulled up to his chest and the bad knee straight out, frowning down at the trap. He carefully placed his hands on either side, gritting his teeth as his right hand protested at the pressure grinding all the wrongly-healed bones against each other. He slowly began to push the jaws of the trap apart, groaning at the pain, but finally it moved enough that Danny could grab onto his leg with both hands and pull it out, hissing as Nate let go and the trap clamped shut - this time on thin air. “You know th-that, right? You won’t g-g-get far, and you h-have to go back home.”

“It’s not my fucking home. It’s a cage. But… I know,” Danny said, and finally something other than anger was in his face. He whispered the words, and there was a moment where they both just sat still, neither one looking at the other, and Danny showed nothing but despair and a dawning resignation. “I just saw that the chain could break, and… and I-I didn’t think it through-”

“No,” said a cheerfully smug voice just behind Nate. Both of them froze immediately, eyes meeting in a flicker of panic they shared. “You sure as fuck didn’t, Red.”

Bram.

Nate swallowed hard, terrified of what might happen now but deeply relieved that he wouldn’t have to recreate the horrifying walk back through the forest with just Danny. Bram was right - he was far more terrifying than anything that could find them here. “I-I f-f-found him first, Bram,” Nate said softly, not quite defensively. “You s-said-”

“So you did,” Bram said, pride ringing in his voice. “I knew you could do it. Although to be honest, I never tried to track Red. I’ve been tracking you.”

“Y-you have?” Nate turned to look back over his shoulder, and Bram at night in the woods looked more like a spirit than a person. Deceptively slim, with that strange, unearthly beautiful pale face that had been nearly identical to his sister’s. The very slightly upturned blue eyes glowed in the light from Nate’s flashlight, reflected it almost like a cat. He’d let his hair grow a little since they came here, and Nate sometimes caught himself reaching out to touch the slight wave in the white-blonde hair. He was holding a gun in one hand. “You were f-f-following… me?”

“Yeah, baby. I was never going to hunt him. I just wanted to see if you passed the test. You did. I’m so proud of you.” Those pale eyes, warm when they looked at him, went colder as they slid over to look down at Danny. “You, on the other hand… I'm very disappointed in you."

“B-Bram-” Nate said, eyes on the dark metal in the last of the remaining light, Bram holding the gun loosely and casually, as though he walked around like this every day. “D-don’t sh-sh-shoot-”

“You found him first,” Bram said, turning that sweetness on him. Nate felt himself relax, almost automatically - Bram wanted to see him relax, to see the effect of his mood. To see that they were so controlled by him. “What was our deal?”

“I-If I found him f-f-fuh… first, he gets to l-live,” Nate said, and hated himself for the knowledge that he once would have said it strongly, but now it was mostly tremulous hope. Because he didn't know - Bram without Ashley was an Bram with only Nate for an anchor, a rudder, and he could never be to him what Ashley had been. 

“That’s right,” Bram said amiably. “And you did. So I guess, you bad dog," He said to Danny, "this is your lucky day.”

“H-he’s not a-”

“Shut up, Nate.”

Nate's mouth snapped shut and he looked down, letting Bram run fingers over the top of his hair, shivering a little at his touch, not unpleasantly. 

"That's what I thought," Bram said quietly. "The problem here is that the two of you forget, sometimes, that we belong together. Red stays, he stays forever. We belong together forever. All three of us. Until we die. Well. Until Red does, anyway.”

Danny had gone very still, as he usually did when Bram looked directly at him or said things like that, sitting on the ground with his injured leg pulled up to his chest, still shaking in the cold air. Probably too tired from not sleeping and weak from not eating to even try to run, Nate thought, not that he would have gotten far. Bram had told him once that he learned to run by wearing down injured deer following them for hours without stopping until they bled enough to collapse. Danny was a skinny city puppy who'd spent four months chained to walls. He couldn't go any further than a hunter wanted him to go.

Bram moved over to him, going right past Nate to slowly lower himself to Danny’s level, head tilted, as though he were looking at a particularly troublesome rodent.

“You ran away from me,” Bram said, thoughtfully. Danny didn’t look at him, his eyes fixed down and off to the side. “Why would you go and do a thing like that, hm? I’ve been good to you, little Red.” He reached out, laying his hand against Danny’s face. 

"Fuck you," Danny spat. When the younger man tried to jerk his head away, the hand with the gun twitched, a little. 

Bram takes, softly. “Language, Red. You don’t pull away from me. I’ve been nice to you and I’m not going to be nice again. So you’re going to hold still for me, and shut your fucking whore mouth.”

“Bram,” Nate said, reaching out a hand. "Please-"

 “Quiet."

 Danny went still again, and Bram let the hand slide back and around, burying his fingers into the dirty red hair, jerking Danny’s head back to look at him. "What made you think you get to run off, puppy, eh?"

"I'm not your goddamn-"

"P-please don't s-s-say it," Nate said, stomach flipping with nausea and fear. "He doesn’t l-l-like it when you say y-you're not…"

“Yes you are," Bram said as if Nate hadn't spoken. "You’re part of our family. You and I have a good time, don't we?"

Danny shook his head rapidly, swallowing disgust. 

"Hm. Maybe not from your perspective. You just need a reminder that there are three of us here, and you’re never leaving me. Nate got lots of reminders before I fixed him, Red. What was your favorite, baby?"

"My wh-what?" His head was pounding, so loud he could barely hear Bram at all. The rush of his own blood in his ears was too loud. Danny still didn't look up, frozen under Bram's stare, his hand.

"Your favorite reminder of what you are."

"Oh. I, uh- um… th-the, the, uh, the t-time with my, my r-ribs…" It was the only thing he could think of. Bram’s blade slipping into his skin.

"Mmmn, I liked that one, too. Good choice. So what should we give you, Red?"

"I… I don't know," Danny mumbled. "Do whatever you want, you fucking psycho."

"Oh, I will. What’s your name?” Bram asked, in a low, soft lover’s voice. “What’s your name, puppy? Tell me your name.”

“Danny M-Michaelson,” Danny said, but he made the mistake of looking up into Bram’s eyes and got caught there, the way Nate sometimes did when he was angry, when you got to see the animal that sat behind the man’s face. His warmer blue eyes widened, lost in the fury and hate and distance in Bram.

“I’ll give you one more shot,” Bram murmured, circling his fingers along Danny’s scalp, gentle, soothing. Danny’s shaking was getting worse, but Nate didn’t think it was from the cold this time. “What. Is. Your. Name.”

Danny swallowed, and when Bram leaned in closer to his face, he flinched, breaking eye contact, curling in on himself. “My n-name is Red,” He said quietly, forcing the words out. 

“Say it.” Bram leaned in even more, just a little closer, slowly pushing the barrel of the gun into the bloody, bruising wound on Danny's leg.

The redhead hissed through his teeth, whimpering in pain, but he didn't pull away. Smart, smart. Nate stared at the two of them, afraid to move, afraid if he broke the moment Bram might change his mind and decide Danny didn’t get to live, after all. 

“Introduce yourself to me, like we’re just meeting on the street. ‘Hi, my name is Red, and I belong to Abraham Denner.’”

“N-no,” Danny shook his head, but the hand gripped back into his hair and he went still again, swallowing hard. “I-I don’t w-w-want to-”

The gun pushed harder into his leg and the whimpering became a cry, bouncing around the trees, swallowed up by them like Bram had swallowed up Danny’s entire life.

“I don’t care about what you want. Ask Nate, he can tell you that what you want doesn’t mean anything to me. I will make you what I want, and I don’t care how long it takes. I will fix you and when you’re done you will die like the rest. So. Introduce yourself to me, or I will cut off every single finger on your right hand and make you toss them in the fireplace yourself. Do you like your right hand, Red? Are you… attached to it?”

He paused and glanced over his shoulder, smiling like a little boy who had done a trick. "Good pun, right?"

Nate nodded quickly. "G-good," He said weakly.

Bram turned back to Danny. "So?"

“Just do it,” Nate whispered. “Just d-d-do what he w-w-wuh-... wants.”

“Everything I do is what he wants, now.” Danny had tears standing in his eyes, and he curled his right hand against his chest. “Everything I do is what he wants.”

Welcome to my life, Danny.

“Not true,” Bram said, in the tone of two men having a reasonable, rational disagreement. “You do what Nate wants, too. Would that be easier for you? ‘Hi, my name is Red, and I belong to Nathaniel Vandrum.’ That’s easy enough, isn’t it?" He let go of the younger man's hair, let his hand drift down to grab Danny's, forcing him to open it back up, running his fingertips over Danny's knuckles, fingernails, palm. 

"Don't touch me," Danny said, voice wavering, but he didn't pull his hand back.

"I’m going to count to five, and if I get to five and you haven’t said it, you lose five fingers." He smiled, playfully tapping each of Danny's fingers in turn. "One-two-three-four-five, little body. Then I’ll count to ten, and take a hand. Then I’ll count to-”

“I-I’ll do it.” Danny spat the words, and there was still defiance in his voice, in his eyes. There was still fight there. He buried it under submission but Nate still saw it - and if he did, so did Bram. "I will, just, just give me a fucking second… I will."

Nate closed his eyes, curling his left hand into a fist. Come home with us. There was a moment of awful silence.

“H-Hi,” Danny stammered, and Bram held onto his hand, the three of them sitting in the final dregs of twilight. He didn't move the gun, not yet. “Hi, m-m-my name is… is… fuck-”

“No, that’s what you’re going to do for us, not who you are,” Bram teased, and Danny let out a broken half-choked sob, nodding as much as Bram would let him, gathering himself back together. “Take a moment, puppy. Take a few deep breaths. Easy, Red. Easy. It's okay, we've got you. In… hold for five… out… in… hold for five… out…”

Danny breathed as ordered, and when he nodded again, it was slower. “I-I’m ready, Abraham.”

“Good, good, there's a good boy. Now try again."

“Hi,” He started again, voice breathy but calmer, his hands in fists and Nate could tell even with just the light of the flashlight that his face was flushed red. There were tear tracks marking through the dirt smudges on his angry, desperate face and the forest loomed around them.

I love him, Nate thought. I love them both. He has rewritten me. We're the only people who could love each other now. I’m a fucking monster, too.

“Hi,” Danny repeated, a little hopelessly. “My name is R-Red, and I b… I belong to Nate…”

“To Nate…?” Bram prodded.

“I belong to Nate Vandrum,” Danny finished in a whisper. Nate’s body burned with shame. “My name is Red. It's Red."

“Good boy. That’s better. Now say your first rule, it’ll be easier now, won’t it?”

Danny’s voice trembled, submission written in every line of his body. “My name is Red,” He whispered. “I belong to Abraham Denner.”

“Guess you get to keep your fingers tonight, hm? Aren’t you glad?” He lifted Danny's hand and kissed each finger. Then he stood up, and when Danny said nothing, Bram kicked him hard in the side. Danny winced, nodding frantically. “That’s what I thought. Get the fuck on your feet. Where are we going, little Red?”

Danny looked up, forcing himself to stand even as his injured leg clearly protested. Nate hurried to his feet as well, looking back and forth between them. Was this it? Was this the worst Bram would do tonight?

“I asked you where you think we’re going,” Bram repeated, a promise and a threat in his deep voice.

“Home,” Danny said quietly. Whatever fight had spurred him on out here was gone now that he had already given in, aware that he stood on a tightrope between surviving the night and being left here to bleed out and rot. “We’re going h-home, Abraham.”

"Good boy," Bram said, and smiled, and both of the other men cringed away from the way it didn't seem like a human smile at all.

He held a hand out to Nate, who took it without hesitation. 

It took them nearly the whole night to get back. Nate mostly leaned on Bram by the end, letting his strength and his arm around his back help him along when his protesting legs didn’t want to go any further. Bram murmured to him, supportive things, reassuring things, and despite all his fear and worry for Danny, it was… nice, that Bram cared enough to help him.

And he’d made sure Nate found Danny first - he hadn’t wanted him to die, either. That was something, too. He doesn’t care about him, but he cares about me, and… and maybe Bram can learn. Maybe I can teach him to care about Danny, too.

Jesus Christ Almighty, please keep me from losing myself out here. Please let me stay myself long enough to find a way to save him.

Danny stumbled and limped ahead of them, prodded along by Bram kicking him whenever he slowed down too much, and if his own leg was an agony, he never said a word. He kept his eyes on the ground ahead of him, wrapped in the damp, dewy blanket, and shivered the whole way. 

His hair was a shock of bright and bloody red in the dark, his shadowy form just outside the flashlight’s beam of light. 

When they got back they were all exhausted, even Bram who was flushed with the thrill of recapture. They took a shower, cleaned themselves off, and Bram let Nate dress Danny’s wound as best he could.

He'd been right, the skin was broken from the bear trap's teeth on either side, but the bone was fine, and mostly he'd come away with a bruise that took over his entire lower calf and ankle, just above the metal shackle still welded on.

Danny limped to the kitchen and cooked them breakfast while they let their hair dry, the three of them sitting in silence at the table over plates of eggs and venison steak - Danny kneeling on the floor and allowed to eat with his fingers, but at least allowed to feed himself, and it was normal. 

Nate was relieved, and he hated himself for it. Danny was back, and the wilderness would not get him, and Bram would not kill him. He was relieved at the small, slim bit of mercy, he was grateful for it, and he was a monster just as much as Bram for being relieved that Danny had been forced back here to suffer all over again.

After breakfast, the thing came back out of the closet. "No," Danny said when he saw it, backing away until he backed right into a wall, but they all knew his no meant nothing and he wasn't going anywhere. 

Bram laughed at him, a deep and rumbling laugh. “Yes.”

Danny’s eyes flickered to Nate’s, some wordless plea there, and Nate had to swallow back his protest and look carefully, firmly away. He couldn’t help, and he didn’t want to watch.

Danny let Bram slide it on over his face, the tiny sharpened bits cutting into his skin all over skin, and Nate knew if he looked he’d see Danny slipping away, sliding back into his mind, going loose-limbed and distant. Bram buckled it tighter than he had the last two times Danny had had to wear it, until Danny - or whatever worked his muscles and kept him breathing - winced at the pain. The muzzle right back in place as though it had never left.

Nate didn’t say anything at all. What good did it do to fight? Bram had won, over and over and over again, and they had nothing to fight him with except the thoughts he couldn't read inside their heads.

But he hated the thing, hated seeing Danny muzzled, and some of his helpless love for Bram withered when he saw it again. 

Nate swallowed and thought, I can't make him live like this just for me. 

"Until you learn to behave," Bram said, gently, patting at the metal along his jawline. "How long you wear it this time is up to you, Red. Got it?"

Danny nodded, and when Bram pointed to the mat on the floor, he went. 

“The problem,” Bram said firmly, “is that you don’t understand that you’re our family, now. So we’re going to fix that No matter how long it takes.”

Danny stared at nothing, empty eyes above the metal already beginning to rub raw that same scarred spot on the bridge of his nose, as Bram unhooked the broken chain from the wall and went outside to get a new one. He didn’t move, only stared ahead with empty eyes, as Bram put the new chain on the ankle cuff, running a hand up and down his leg, pressing into his new wound through the bandages, until he whimpered again.

Nate’s eyes closed, slowly. I can't be the reason he breaks. I'm breaking him, too. I'm an accomplice. I'm as bad as Bram because I don't want him to leave.

Bram pushed Danny gently to lying down, then stood and sighed. “I’m going to get some sleep. You can stay with him for a while, if you want, on the couch.”

“Y-Yes, Bram. Thank you, Bram, for letting me stay with him,” Nate said, with sincere gratitude and so much self-loathing he could barely stand it. Once Bram was gone, Nate pulled the thin blankets Danny was allowed up over Danny’s shoulder for him, nearly to his chin the way he liked, showing only his eyes and hair.

Nate waited until the sound of Bram’s breathing in the bedroom had gone slow, deep, and heavy, and then let one hand rest over the metal that held Danny’s jaw shut and locked away his voice, palm resting just over the spot where it was already bleeding. 

Danny opened his eyes, watching him, and Nate leaned forward, resting his forehead on Danny’s temple.

They stayed there like that, Danny lying down and Nate kneeling, for a while. Nate started rubbing his thumbs in slow circles against the metal, first at either side of his jaw and then the bridge of his nose, knowing the slight pressure would help soothe the ache that had to already be starting. Danny closed his eyes at the feeling of relief, letting out a slow sigh through his nose, since he couldn't open his mouth any longer.

Once he was absolutely sure Bram was asleep, he leaned forward to kiss Danny's forehead and whispered, "I’m so, so sorry.” 

Danny pushed himself up all at once and dipped his head, burying it into Nate's shoulder. Nate felt his shirt dampen with tears that leaked out, Danny making low 'hnnnnh, hnnnnnh' sounds in the back of his throat. 

Bram rolled over in the bedroom, murmuring something pleased and happy. Sweet dreams, Nate thought, bitterly.

Nate slid an arm over Danny, to pull him a little closer, and hummed, in a gentle tuneless sort of way, until Danny stopped crying and gradually laid back down on the mat, let Nate cover him up, and fell asleep.

Nate looked over his shoulder at the bedroom, open door giving him a perfect view to Bram’s peaceful sleeping face.

I hate you so much, you son of a bitch, you fucking bastard, for what you've done to him, for wanting to make him just like me.

I love you I can't live without you. I love you so much, you made me love you so much.

I have to figure out how to love him more than you.

#whump #captivity #noncon touching tw #noncon references tw #conditioning #gun tw #guns tw #restrained #bruised #pet whump #dehumanization #Daniel Michaelson's story #caretaker forced to be whumper #broken caretaker #broken whumpee #defiant whumpee #intimate whumper #creepy whumper #tracking prey #caught in a trap #muzzled #muzzling #dissociation tw #stockholm syndrome tw #stockholm syndrome #unwanted love #captor bonding #captive bonding

[derivativealigner]

I rewatched the second season of South Park and took so many notes that I had to split them into two parts. Like seriously, I took so. many. notes. And pictures this time. I started rewatching just in case I’d find some cool little facts to sprinkle into my fanfic but I went way too far and now there’s a million facts under this cut (including gay stan, a domestic violence psa, and craig fucking dying)

Stan doesn’t like hospitals, he finds them gross and he gets sick 🤮. Also the hospital in South Park is called Hell’s Pass hospital. Early seasons have the name as Hells Pass but it gets fixed later

Cartman has to sing all of Come Sailing Away by Styx if he hears a part of it. After he says this, Kyle sings the first part and Cartman has to sing the rest. Kyle does it again later, which is kinda mean

Cartman’s mom tries to abort Cartman, who is an eight-year-old child and thus cannot be legally aborted. Later, after she slept with Bill Clinton to change the law and make 40th trimester abortions legal, it turns out she meant adoption

Kenny sacrifices himself to turn on the generator to the hospital and save Dr. Mephesto’s life along with others. He says “I’ll fucking do it” then does it and dies, absolute legend

Cartman gets way too into his deputy role. He goes undercover, pretends to be a prostitute, says “Respect my authoritah!” a lot and beats people up with his police stick

Kenny’s brother first appears when Cartman responds to a call about a disturbance at Kenny’s house. Apparently there are like 10 adult family members in the house at that time. Kenny’s dad has a black eye because Kenny’s mom punched him. She says he can’t hold a job

Token sits in the classroom in season 2

Cartman starts hating hippies in this season, like a lot

Chef tells the boys that the right time to do drugs is in college

Ike’s name is Ike Moisha Broflovski and he was born in 1996, making him 2 years old in 1998 when this season aired

This is probably obvious but yeah Kyle and Ike are circumcised

Kyle says family isn’t just blood, it’s who you care about, and he says “That’s why you guys are more than just friends, you’re my family. Except for Cartman.”

Craig’s finally sitting in the classroom in S02E04

None of the boys like dodgeball

Clyde gets a dodgeball to the face and he cries :( and he’s the only one who cries by the way

Pip throws a dodgeball in Kyle’s face and breaks Kyle’s nose

When Kyle’s mom tells the boys about conjoined twin myslexia (which isn’t a real term) and says anyone might’ve absorbed their dead twin in the womb, Stan and Cartman run away screaming but Kenny and Kyle stay to listen. Kenny even leans in to look at the book “Freaks A-Z!” that Mrs. Broflovski is reading from, and when she leaves, Kyle grimaces and Kenny laughs

Stan’s mom (Sharon) calls Kyle’s mom (Sheila) when Stan is all freaked out and trying to put an icepick through his brain, and Sharon tells Sheila to get run over by a truck. Sharon is pretty mean in these early episodes

Mr. Broflovski doesn’t really listen to what Mrs. Broflovski is saying, bad husband >:(

South Park’s team is always called South Park Cows no matter the sport

The school nurse, Nurse Gollum, went to Colorado State University

I just realized Butters exists. I think he appeared before S02E05 but I didn’t notice but yeah he’s there with the dodgeball team, injured

Here’s a picture to make up for my disgusting anti-Butters bias

Kenny’s dodgeball uniform number is 69 obviously. Kyle is 7, Stan is 4, Cartman is 325

Sheila smacks Gerald in the face so hard he falls off his chair, lots of violence perpetrated by women in this show. Remember, don’t do domestic violence no matter your gender, it’s not cool

I realized after this whole Butters thing that I should’ve made more notes about Pip, so I’ll make a note about his anger issues now. When people call him French, he gets angry and throws dodgeballs at them

The boys launch a jelly roll at Ms. Crabtree and make her crash the bus. They do it just for fun

The kids somehow go to China in the school bus

Cartman references Moby Dick, but he probably doesn’t know what he’s talking about

Kevin Stoley gets named in S02E05 and has his first speaking role when he says he has Chinese parents and after Cartman hears it he immediately says something racist. smh cartman, what a problematic fave

Cartman says “I love you guys 😊” but Stan and Kyle just stare at him and he goes 😐 “Eh, screw you guys 😠”

If Jimbo and Ned really fought in Vietnam, they youngest they could’ve been in 1998 is early forties, which means in the latest seasons they would be early sixties. Btw they met in Vietman

Jesus and Pals is a recurring TV show in seasons 1 and 2. Jesus just kind of lives in South Park

I just remembered that Terrance and Phillip are really old in canon, it’s so weird, like how can South Park canon still be changing, it’s been 20 years

Also the early seasons are casually racist who knew

Kenny flashes his ass on a tape the boys send to Jimbo and Ned’s TV show, which airs and at least 12 people see Kenny’s bare naked ass

Cartman really doesn’t like hippies in these early seasons. He throws a chair at Ned and yells, “Take that, hippie!” (Ned is in a catatonic state and did nothing to provoke this)

Jimbo and Ned live together I guess. Jimbo’s gonna take Ned home and show him some hardcore porn to snap him out of his catatonic state, good husband unlike Gerald Broflovski

Saddam Hussein is in hell and has a Canadian accent and is Satan’s lover in S02E06, I guess he died in Canada in the first episode this season but I wasn’t paying much attention since that’s the Terrance and Phillip episode that pissed a bunch of people off in 1998 because the audience wanted to know who Cartman’s dad is instead. It was kind of a boring episode so I understand why everyone was pissed, but it is funny that Matt and Trey did that so I’m not mad about it

Aww look at them!!! We’ve got background Style, the vaguest inkling of Crenny, and Cartman/Cake

I’d take more screenshots but it’s a pain since I’m watching legally and stupid legal websites block screenshots so I have to find youtube videos instead ughhhh piracy is the answer kids

Apparently there’s a huge waterfall and canyon somewhere close to South Park, maybe? At least in Stan’s dream

Mary Kay Bergman was an incredible voice actor. How the hell did she voice all the moms, Wendy, Shelly, principle Victoria, the mayor, Nurse Gollum, and fucking Ms. Crabtree??? Holy shit what a queen

Kenny has some feelings about death. He reimagines the episode where death boops him to death and in his version, he beats death the fuck up, then has ice cream and is happy 😊 But again, this is in Stan’s dream

S02E07 kind of establishes that nobody remembers Kenny dying because when Cartman tells a story where Kenny dies, Kyle questions how Kenny could’ve died then when he also died just a few hours ago when a giant monster took him

rip craig, he falls out the bus and into a canyon

But it’s okay because it was all Stan’s dream so everything in the episode is questionable. Everything after this is no longer a dream

Pip’s parents are dead and he has to go to summer school while everyone else is having a nice summer break

Officer Barbrady and the mayor are having sexual relations, I’m sure this is the most interesting note I’ve made so far. Idk I’m just writing everything down, this is how I enjoy things, I have no off switch

Ew summer bus stop, cursed

Kyle casually sings little tunes every once in a while, how cute

This is pretty obvious but Kenny likes dirty jokes, he laughs when Cartman innocently says he loves Chef’s salty chocolate balls (which are chocolate candy). Nobody else laughs

Cartman says “Screw you guys, I’m going home” or variations of it a lot in this season

So Stan throws up when he likes someone, right? Well, he’s watching an indie movie about two gay cowboys who start making out and he throws up, which is either a terrible homophobic joke or confirmation that Stan’s a little gay. I know which one I prefer

Kyle says Mr. Hankey is his best friend after Stan. Like I know it’s definitely canon that Stan and Kyle are best friends but it’s still nice to see confirmation, it’s very precious. Also Kyle is best friends with literal shit, so cute 😊

Kenny deaths:

S02E02 Kenny sacrifices himself by connecting a generator wire, which electrocutes him but brings power back to a hospital

S02E03 A tree falls on Kenny and crushes him

S02E04 Kenny falls in a grave and the gravestone falls on him

S02E05 The Chinese dodgeball team throws a ball at Kenny and he gets splattered against a wall

S02E06 Two guys pull on Kenny and tear him in half, as in one has the head and one has the legs

S02E07 A big scary monster plucks Kenny out of the school bus and carries him away. Also in Cartman’s fake memory of Fonzi jumping over cars, the motorcycle hits Kenny and crushes him against a brick wall. Kenny gets smashed against walls a lot, doesn’t he?

S02E08 Flashback: Baby Kenny has a firecracker and it explodes, sprinkling little baby Kenny parts everywhere. Later in the episode, current day Kenny dies when a giant firework snake bumps him off a stage and under a fence, which then crushes him.

S02E09 Kenny is playing with a yoyo outside a movie theatre when a bunch of people come outside and trample him to death. They say “Oh my God, I found a penny!” and “You bastard!”

I’ll post part 2 of season 2 in a couple days. I’m having way more fun writing these stupid notes than I thought I would (also gnomes is coming up soon and i am fucking ready for tweek)

#south park #sp rewatch #i thought i made way too many notes last time #oh boy #also sorry for my anti butters bias showing #i completely forgot to take notes about him until episode 5 #oops

[realcube]

Kirishima Halloween Headcanons

check out the part1

tw// spook 🎃, cussing, expired candy, violence (?)

you went as a cowgirl and he was a cowboy

but half-way through the night - for no real reason - y’all jus switched hats so that you were wearing a heavy-ass, black gallon hat and he was wearing a pink, glittery cowgirl hat with furry accents. 

after you returned your jacket and forced Kirishima off of you, it started to get a little warmer so it was now a tolerable temperature

the first thing y’all did was go trick or treating around your estate

however, Kirishima didn’t bring a bucket to put his candies in so you let him share yours

after the first few houses, you both became slightly embarrassed as you noticed that the majority of the other kids that were trick-or-treating were considerably younger than you both

also, when you actually took the time to look at the ‘candy’ you’ve received so far, you realised that 75% of them were those stupid little dried fruit snacks like tf?! 

where is the real shit?!

so that put a quick stop to the trick-or-treating but did stop y’all from hustling for free candy? hell no.

You plan was to hide behind walls, bins, decorations etc and jump out in front of unsuspecting children, yell ‘BOO!’ and hope you scare them enough that they’d drop all their treats are run away crying

Kirishima said that wasn’t a very heroic thing to do, plus it was a very flawed plan but you were consistent and sure that he’d change his mind once he saw your plan in action

so you hid behind a large spider decoration in someone’s front yard and got ready to pounce out at some unsuspecting kid

however, that didn’t really go to plan because rather than the kid dropping their candy and running away, they screamed and punched you straight in the stomach

now you were the one crying

well, not really. I mean, it did hurt quite bad but you’re a bad bitch so-

you and Kirishima laughed it off and you were really tempted to chase that kid down and fuck him up, but that wasn’t very heroic either

so now your large intestine has been messed up and you still barely have any candy; this seriously hasn’t been your day so far.

but Kirishima always knows how to make you feel better 

he took you to the old park that y’all used to hang out at years ago and pushed you on swing, just like old times

then, he ushered you over to your old secret den (a hole in a hedge) that you both would hang out in when your parents would tell you to come home

“Remember this place?” He asked, trying shuffle in like he used to but it was considerable harder since he wasn’t as small as he used to be and also it was nearing winter so all the soft leaves had fallen off the hedge and left the spikey twigs behind

“How could I forget?” You giggled, crawling in after him and pushing yourself into corner in attempt to get comfortable like you used to. “It’s crazy how we were both able to fit in there perfectly just a few years ago.”

“I know. The Nostalgia.” He mused, looking around the place as if there was something other than sticks surrounding him. “Hey, do you wanna see something?” 

before you were able to respond, Kirishima took off his boot, hardened his foot and starts kicking at the ground in between you both. 

“Kiri!” You squealed playfully in response to the dirt flying everywhere. 

He eventually stopped and once he did, you peered over you knees to see what he did that for. 

Honestly, the last thing you expected to see was an assortment of different mini-chocolate bars but..here they are!

“Do you remember 6 years ago? We went trick-or-treating but our parents said we weren’t allowed to eat it all in one night so we buried some here so they wouldn’t find it-- a pretty stupid plan now that I think about it but hey, it kinda worked. They never found it!” He chuckled.

You smiled, running your finger through your damp hair while using your other hand to shift through the pile of chocolate bars in the hole in front of you. “Heh, this is so cool.”

Kirishima nodded, pulling his phone out from his back pocket, “And we can watch a horror movie in here too - if I get and signal.”

you playfully rolled your eyes before sticking out your bottom lip, “Aww, that’s really sweet, Kiri. But these chocolates have probably gone bad by now.”

He picked one up and turn it around, taking a moment to look for the best before date before outstretching his arm to show you with a smug grin on his face, “Nope! This one still has a month left on it!” He declared, unwrapping the bar and taking a huge bite without hesitation.

“Well, I’m just not in the mood for ground candy, babe. But thanks!” You shrugged, resting your head on his shoulder. “How about we go back to mine? We can change into some comfy clothes and watch a horror movie on the TV instead? I can make popcorn, slushies-”

“Say less.” Kirishima replied without missing a beat as began crawling out of the den, or at least trying too. Again, he was quite thicc so it was a struggle but with the power of ✨ teamwork✨ you were both able to get out of the den with minimal scratches.

With that, you both started the journey back to your house - yelling “BOO!” at every child you happened to cross paths with on the way. 

Once you arrived at your house, you changed into your pyjamas and Kirishima changed into the hoodie he gave you 8 months ago that you never gave back..until now :) 

You both spend the rest of the night preparing food to eat while watching the movie because you both wanted slushies, nachos, popcorn, fries etc but neither of you were talented chefs but you definitely though you were.

After multiple attempts and the neighbours getting tired of the smoke alarm going off every few minutes, you ended up with only one bag of popcorn and 2 cans of coke...and the dried fruit but fuck that.

You tried to watch Child’s Play but you both got too scared so you decided to watch Barbie of Swan Lake instead. 

Half-way through that, after you had both finished that one bag of popcorn, you heard crunching and turned to Kirishima with a confused expression, “Whatcha eating?” You sung.

“The ground candy.” 

“Ew!”

“What?! It’s actually pretty good, very soft.”

“EW!”

#bnha #mha #bnha kirishima #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #kirishima x you #mha kirishima #kirishima ejirou #ejiro kirishima x reader #kirishima fluff #kirishima headcanon

[picturetoburnnn]

Unforgettable | l.h. x reader

word count - 2k

warnings - angst, slight fluff, cussing as always

tags - @songforhema​ @asht0ns-world @lukesflaredpants @sunflowerxcal @cxddlyash @lovely-cruel-summer @merryblueberry02 @kinglyhood @caswinchester2000 @babe-babylon @irwinkitten @1delicate-fangirl @mysticalhood @abundant-stars 

notes - so i know an apology is past due here. i’m sorry about how late this is. part one was posted three months ago and i’m only now making this post. life has been insanely hectic, and i’ve been working on this for a while, but only a little bit at a time. i’m really sorry so much has happened recently. i hope you guys can enjoy this though. 

Masterlist

Part One Found Here!!

Y/N tried, she really did. She tried to cope with the fact that the love of her life couldn’t remember her.  But it followed her everywhere, like a shadow. An evil shadow with fangs and teeth waiting to remind her that she wasn’t who she used to be.

“Who are you?” The blonde asked, blue eyes shining with confusion. 

“Mate,” Ashton murmured, “it’s Y/N?”

“Who?”

Y/N fought her tears as she retracted her arms, wrapping them around herself even though she ached to hold the man in front of her.

“Don’t worry about it,” she muttered as she stood, turning on her heel. The broken-hearted girl headed for the door, refusing eye contact with anyone and everyone.

“Y/N,” Ashton called, reaching for her arm as she passed.

“Don’t,” she whimpered, dodging his grasp, trying her best not to cry until she was out of earshot. She heard her fiance ask the remaining boys to ‘please explain what the fuck is going on.’

Y/N managed to turn the corner into a relatively empty hallway before breaking down. The earth seemed to sway beneath her feet as the ground came crashing to meet her, back slamming into the wall. Hugging her knees to her chest, she did her best to silently cry. A muffled thud beside her indicated someone sitting with her. 

A hand found hers, intertwining the fingers. A brief glance at the forearm told her it was Ashton - the moon phase tattoos giving him away. Something about having him there with her made it all feel so much more real. Her fiance really was awake in the other room, and he really didn’t remember her. They sat there for a moment, Ashton being her silent crutch. Slowly, he moved close enough to tuck her into his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and letting her cry into his chest.

“It’s like the past four years didn’t even happen.” Y/N wiped her eyes. “He doesn’t remember the dates, the proposal. Ash, he doesn’t remember me.”

“It’ll come back, bubs. It will.” His thumb stroked her shoulder comfortingly.

“You don’t know that.” She found herself laughing in spite of herself. “I could be gone forever. We don’t know. I sure as hell am not there now.” Another tear streamed down.

Ashton’s heart broke for the girl that had become his sister. Pressing a kiss to her head, he tried to hold back tears of his own as he felt her cling to him. 

After three weeks, nothing had changed. It was like he remembered everything except her. The past four years were there, but every memory that should have had her held a blank space in her place. 

Y/N had taken to staying at Ashton's, to save Luke the awkwardness of sharing a home with someone he didn't know. 

She didn't know the drummer heard her crying every night.

Y/N became a ghost to Luke. She disappeared when he came around, or stayed silent around him.

It was one of those days where Luke and the boys had gathered in the living room at Ashton's house, playing some random game in the living room. Despite Michael and Calum's protest - Why don't you play just one round with us? - Y/N had just curled up in the window seat with a book, dedicating herself to an afternoon of fiction. In her books, she could pretend the main character was her, and the love interest Luke. She could pretend everything was okay - that there hadn't been a huge rug ripped out from under her.

Caught up in the novel, she didn't notice the boy that used to love her taking a long glance her way. The plotline was too enticing to let her overhear the conversation the boys were having, the game forgotten in the background.

"Who was she, really?" Luke whispered.

"She was… she was your best friend, Luke. You were going to marry her." Michael's quiet words felt like knives in his heart. 

"But I- I would remember that. I couldn't forget that, could I?"

"Mate," Calum cut in comfortingly, "you were in a coma. You had brain damage. You can't control what you can and can't remember."

Luke had tuned him out. He knew he was obviously important to her, just based on her despair when he first - well, not first - met her in the hospital. He didn't know the first thing about her, but when she looked at him, such devastation on her features… he wanted to find some way to comfort her until all the pain disappeared. 

Cal was still talking when the tall blond stood, cutting him off. The trio of boys watched as he cautiously approached her, speechless.

Y/N felt a tap on her shoulder, drawing her out of her novel. She looked up, her eyes meeting those blue ones she loved so much.

"Hi." His voice was tentative. He hadn't sounded so unsure to her since their first date. But, to be fair, this was the first time he'd spoken to her since the hospital.

"Hello." Y/N closed her book, giving him her full attention. 

"Can, um, can we talk?" He gestured behind him to the back door. Clearly, this wasn't a conversation he wanted to be overheard. Not like that would stop their friends though.

"Yeah." Y/N almost stumbled over her words. "Yeah, let me put some shoes on."

Luke waited nervously by the door, fingers playing with the cuffs of his favorite jacket. Once she returned, with boots this time, he couldn't help but think she really was gorgeous. The cool winter air was a welcome change from the almost over-heated house. Or maybe it was their own anxieties that made the house feel uncomfortably warm. 

"I, um, I wanted to ask you something." The lanky Australian seemed to curve in on himself as he stuffed his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched.

Y/N raised her eyebrows as if to urge him to continue. 

"Who were you, to me? I know you were someone, someone important. Your face is in half of the pictures at my house, but I have no idea who you are." Luke wanted to know what she would tell him. Would she expect him to remember her as she was? Would she be willing to make new memories with him? 

She smiled at him, a sad smile that was masked to look nostalgic. She was good at that, but he was better. He didn't know how he knew that, but he somehow did. 

"Does it matter what I was? Shouldn't it matter who I'll be now?"

And suddenly Luke realized why he had been engaged to her. 

Luke smirked. "I guess so. Will you be the person to help me find memories of who you were?"

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, hands stuffed into the pockets of a hoodie that looked somewhat familiar to Luke. "Why don't we just make new memories of who I'll be?"

~

Luke could tell it hurt her. To look into his eyes, and not see what used to be there. But at the same time, it meant the world to him that she was here, helping him even if it hurt her. She came over most afternoons, most likely with one of the other boys tagging along. Y/N and Luke would carefully recall the tiny moments of the past four years.

It was slow, but Luke started remembering small things. He knew that Y/N liked this side of the bed, and she wanted her dresses and shirts hung up but skirts and pants folded. He remembered that when she couldn't find her keys, they were probably in the left pocket of the jacket she wore yesterday. 

He didn't know why, but when he wanted to surprise her with flowers, he somehow just knew that the orange ones wouldn't make her happy but the pale pink ones would. 

Y/N flashed him the world's largest smile when he remembered her brother's name for the first time, without prompting. She looked close to tears when he remembered their first date. 

Slowly, Luke fell back into his old life. He asked Y/N to come back home. 

"It's just that… this is your home too. Something about it feels empty, but when you're here, that feeling is gone. I know I may not be half the man you loved at one point, but would you stay here with me and help me get back?"

Y/N's heart was racing. Could she really handle this? Coming back home to this home she had loved so much, the place she had really and truly fell in love for the last time?

"Luke, I…"

His smile faltered. "You don't have to! It was just a thought, a dumb thought. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, I'm sorry I shouldn't have--"

"--I'd love to."

As fast as it fell, Luke's smile turned to a huge grin. "Really?" He asked like a kid on Christmas, not quite believing this gift was really for him.

Y/N nodded, and Luke's stomach erupted into a million butterflies.

~

"Tell me about the day we met."

Luke and Y/N were laying on the couch, a movie playing in the background with the volume turned way down low. Luke was half laying on her chest, and she had one hand playing with his curls. He was slotted between her legs, his back to her chest. 

"Hm?" she hummed.

"Like the first time we saw each other. Tell me what happened."

Y/N started smiling, as if to herself. She let out a quiet laugh. “You kinda embarrassed yourself. You sure you want to hear it?”

“Well, now I can’t very well have you knowing the dumb things I did and me not, can I?”

“Fine, fine,” Y/N relented.

“A little over four years ago, I was just walking down the street. Literally not doing anything else. Then you and your Australian accent quite literally ran into me.”

“Hey!” Y/N spluttered. A moment ago, she had been standing patiently on the sidewalk, waiting for the light to signal it was safe to cross the crosswalk. Now, her butt was flat on the ground, hands scraped, and the contents of her usually neat messenger bag were strewn all about the road. 

“God, Jesus, I am so sorry,” the collider exclaimed. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and-”

“Well that’s obvious,” Y/N grumbled as she stood, examining the abrasion to her forearm. 

“Here, let me get that for you.” The stranger bent down before she could say another word, and began picking up the random pencils, papers, and loose sticky notes that had gone flying. “I really am really sorry. Here, I’m so sorry,” he rambled as he handed her the items in a loose stack. 

“It’s fine,” Y/N smiled politely, shoving her belongings under her arm - she’d sort it later. “Thanks for picking it up, that was sweet of you.”

“Well, it was my fault they fell in the first place. I’m Luke.”

“Y/N.” She held her hand out to shake. 

Luke smiled. “Hey, same choker!” He gestured to his throat and then to hers, where she was indeed wearing the same black velvet strip. 

Y/N chuckled. “Guess you were just meant to run into me,” she teased lightly.

“Well maybe I’ll run into you again?”

Luke smiled as Y/N finished the story. As she spoke, he found himself remembering bits and pieces of it. He remembered the exact necklace they were both wearing, and berating himself as he picked up her things. He remembered thinking she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Or maybe that's what he was thinking now. He wasn't sure, but he still knew it was true.

Luke knew he had fallen in love with her all over again. 

#i miss writing #im sorry this took so long #please forgive me #its here now #hospital visits 2 #calum hood #ashton irwin #michael clifford #luke hemmings #luke 5sos #michael 5sos #ashton 5sos #calum 5sos #luke hemmings x reader #My writing

[unchartedterritoria]

A Scathingly Brilliant Idea, Not So Much (Sam Drake x Reader)

I cannot believe I never published this one shot here! I put up the AO3 link but never the story itself, so, here you go guys!

Description:  You and your friend Jenn spend time scoping out your hot neighbor Sam Drake. What happens when you add 3 bottles of wine? This is just a piece of fluff that was rolling in the head that I had to get out. Not my best work but it was fun to think about.

Rated T for language

“Oh my god, you’ve got to see this!”

You went over to your friend Jenn's house to unwind and unload about your morning. You were expecting a couple of glasses of wine and maybe some bad TV. Now, she was dragging you through her house onto the balcony on the second floor.

“What?” You question her as you approach the balcony doors.

"I have a new hobby," She says with a rueful smile and opens the doors dramatically. Her balcony was a decent size, big enough for two solid Adirondack chairs and small table which, at the moment, held two glasses of ice and a pitcher of bright red sangria.

“Day drinking is not new, Jenn,” You tell her, still thankful there is booze to be found.

    “Sit down and look to your right,” She says, pouring large glasses from the pitcher for the both of you. Putting your purse down with a sigh, you plop down in the chair and take a look. Jenn’s balcony overlooks her neighbors' backyard. The house was a fixer-upper and had been on the market a while, but your friend had told you someone had moved in two weeks ago.

"Whoa," You utter, finally getting a good look at her new neighbor, who was outside mowing the lawn in his backyard. He was older than both of you, probably in his late 40s, maybe early 50's if you had to guess. His dark brown hair was receding, showing off a prominent forehead and nose. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and an open Hawaiian shirt over a white tank top and filled out everything just right.

    “Oh trust me,” Jenn says as she roots around behind her chair, “It just gets better,” Finally finding what she was looking for, she hands you a pair of binoculars.

"Are you serious?! He's gonna see us!" You protest, your face turning a little red, the thought of spying on a hot guy like a couple of teenagers.

"Trust me. He can't see us past the railing. Just look at him!" Jenn says, pointing towards him.

    Oh, what the hell. You hold the binoculars up and see exactly what she is making a big fuss about. He had to be almost six and a half feet of taught, lean muscle, pushing a lawn mower across the yard. His forearms were solid and muscular. His eyes were hidden behind aviator sunglasses, but you could make out a tattoo on his neck below a chiseled, beard stubbled jaw. As he stops suddenly, you tense up. Crap, he must have seen you. Instead, he takes off his Hawaiian shirt and throws it on the stoop of his back porch. Your jaw drops open. His arms are sculpted, the kind that comes from actual work instead of working out, and his shoulders are broad. You can see another tattoo on the curve of his left arm. His whole torso was covered in sweat, the back of his tank top damp on his lower back just above what could only be called a fantastic ass in a pair of jeans.

    “Oh my god,” You groan and slump back in your chair as Jenn grabs the binoculars eagerly out of your hands to get a glimpse for herself. You watch as he methodically walks the mower up and down the yard, his arms, his legs, the fluidity of his body and its movements.

    “Who is he?” You ask, taking a couple of gulps of your drink to cool you down.

    “Not a clue but lucky for us, he sure loves his yard work!” Jenn says giggling.

THREE WEEKS LATER

"I have a scathingly brilliant idea!" Jenn says to you, pouring the last of the bottle of wine into her glass as the two of you stand in the kitchen. It was the third bottle the two of you had polished off that night and both you had a good buzz going.

"What?" You ask cautiously. Jenn's ‘scathingly brilliant ideas' tended to always end up more on the severe end of the spectrum and less on the brilliant end.

    “C’mon! Let’s go spy on the hot neighbor!” She whispers loudly, chugs the rest of her wine and heads out of the kitchen cackling wildly. Knowing you’ll need it, you drain the rest of your glass quickly and go after Jenn.

    “Why aren’t we going upstairs?” You ask her as you follow her out the front door instead of up the stairs. In the dark, Jenn runs around the fence that separates her yard from the neighbors and into the bushes under the back windows. You duck into the shrubbery next to her, twigs and sticks poking you as you hide.

    “Are you out of your mind? You’re gonna get caught! We’re gonna get caught!” You say in a harsh whisper.

    “I wanna see him naked!” Jenn whispers, giggling, obviously more drunk than you are. She starts to stand up and grab the ledge of the windowsill.

    Pulling her down by the waist, you get her back into the shadow of the bushes. “No! Jenn! He’s gonna see you!”

    “I bet he’s huge,” She whispers emphatically before going for the window again to get a look inside. Suddenly, from inside the house, comes the bark of what can only be a large dog causing your eyes to go wide and Jenn to drop from the ledge and land noisily on her butt against the side of the house.

    “When did he get a dog?” You ask in a furious whisper over the barking. Jenn shrugs when you hear the sliding glass door at the back of the house open and footfalls into the backyard.

"Hello?" A husky, male voice says. You duck down with Jenn as quietly as possible and slap a hand over her mouth.

    “Quiet Buddy!” He calls back into the house causing the dog to go silent. You manage to keep a drunk you and your drunk friend motionless. A few seconds pass. Please, please, please go back in the house, you think. Just when you think are home free, Jenn wrenches your hand off of her mouth and lets out a muffled belch.

    “I know you’re there and I’m tellin’ you right now, I got a gun,” He says, a little bit of an accent in his voice. You think it might be New York. Maybe Boston.

You stare in horror at Jenn. She shakes her head in doubt, causing the bush to move just enough to swing a few leaves.

    “Come. Out. Now. Last warning,” He commandingly cautions loudly. You look at Jenn. You know the gig is up, and you need to stand, but your feet are frozen in place, your knees locked in fear. A loud bang echoes and you feel a sudden, hot pain in your upper arm. Jenn takes off like a shot out of the bushes, shrieking, running past her house and fleeing down the road in horror like a babysitter in a bad slasher movie. You stumble out of the shrubs, knees wobbling. In the moonlight, you see a large dark patch forming on your shirt, right on top of the throbbing spot on your arm. You touch the spot, feeling the warm blood. The pieces slowly fall into place in your boozy brain, and for the first time, you look up. You see your friend's neighbor standing twenty feet away, lit by the warm lights inside of his house. Though you can't make out the details of his face, you can see a hard expression change to surprise. He almost looks like he recognizes you.

    “You shot me you fucker!” You yell at him as the world begins to go hazy.

    “Oh shit,” You hear him say as you feel yourself falling back, the world going black as you faint, not even feeling yourself land.

    You open your eyes slowly and squint against the brightness of the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Your arm and your head are throbbing. With the sounds of bustling people and beeps and the smell of disinfectant and old people, it could only mean that you are in a hospital. Your eyes adjust as you find yourself in a curtained off little corner alcove of what you assume is the emergency room. Your friend is nowhere to be seen, but a tall, handsome man is leaning sideways against the wall, arms crossed in front of him.

Oh god, it’s the neighbor.

You look down sheepishly, thanking God that you aren't in a hospital gown. You still have on the green tank top that was under your sweater, which your pretty sure is now a bloody rag.

    “Hi there,” He says. Embarrassed, you raise your head to meet his eyes, vibrant hazel ones. You were right with the age range, the lines, and wrinkles on his face giving him a rugged, weathered look. The tattoo that you had spotted on his neck was barely visible over the edge of the collar of his shirt. With his arms crossed, the muscles in his biceps strained against the dark brown shirt on top of them. Lord, he's handsome, and I'm a fucking idiot, you think to yourself as you drop your gaze back down to the blanket across your lap.

    “Where’s Jenn?” You manage to mumble.

"Your partner in crime? She made it three blocks before I could catch her," He says, with a surprisingly complete lack of anger in his voice.

    “You shot me,” You say, looking at the bandage and sling around your arm, your friend completely forgotten.

    “I told you I was gonna shoot,” He admits, holding up his hands in defense.

    “Who shoots a gun in a suburb? That’s just wrong,” You grumble to yourself, trying to move your arm a bit.

"Stop that. You're gonna make it hurt more,"

    “Well, I’m sorry, I’ve never been shot before!”

He pulls a chair next to the upright head of your bed.

    “Ok, let’s start fresh. I’m Sam,” he says, offering his hand. You manage to introduce yourself and take his hand, giving it a quick shake. His hands are calloused and strong.

    “So why were you guys in my bushes?” He asks in an amused tone.

    “Um, Uh…well. Huh,” You stall, trying to think of some viable excuse, any viable excuse at this point.

    “View from the balcony wasn’t good enough anymore?” He offers with a cocky grin. Your mouth falls open in disbelief.

Oh no, he can't see us! You think in Jenn's voice. Yeah, uh huh, sure. Fuck you, Jenn.

    “You saw us?”

    “Yeah.”

    “The whole time?”

    “Yup.”

    “Even the binoculars?” You cringe as you wait for the answer.

    “Sure did. I really liked the time I was out choppin' wood, and you guys had your little scorecards with the numbers you were holdin’ up to each other. I thought that was funnier than hell,” Sam answers, causing you to wince in embarrassment.

The curtain opens, and the attending comes in and asks Sam to step out, giving you a once-over before handing you your discharge papers.

    “Um, are the cops going to come in or are they waiting for me outside?” You ask as you shove the papers in your back pocket. Hiding in a stranger's bushes and being shot just had to be something a person gets arrested for.

"Mr. Drake has agreed not to press charges for trespassing. Consider yourself lucky ma'am," The doctor says condescendingly before turning on his heel and stalking back to the ER.

    “Lucky? I’m the one who got shot!” You say to yourself. You hear a chuckle as Sam pulls the curtain aside.

    “You’re finding this pretty amusing,” You scowl at him.

    “I really am,” He says smiling. God, even his smile is handsome. Well, I’ve got no chance with him now. He thinks, no. He knows I’m a peeping Tom.

    “You’re not pressing charges?”

    “No. Well, on one condition.”

    “Community service? Manual labor?” You question and wait for your inevitable punishment.

    “Dinner.”

    Confused, you ask, “You want me to cook you dinner?”

"That'd be alright, but I was thinkin’ more along the lines of taking you out to dinner.”

"Excuse me?" You ask, wondering if you hit your head, and you were hearing things because this was sounding like a date to your screwy brain.

    “Honestly, I’d been meaning come over and introduce myself to you, but I kept missin' the opportunity," Sam admitted.

    “Oh,” Your brain trying to process this. “So, let me get this straight, you shot me, and you want me to go to dinner with you?”

    “Yeah, I do.”

    “You shot me.” You reiterate.

    “I can call the cops instead. Not sure what trespassing charges are these days, probably just some fines. Maybe a night in jail,” Sam says jokingly as he pretends to reach for his cellphone.

"7:30 tomorrow night work for you?" You say quickly. He gives you a chuckle and that sweet damn smile, and you know this is gonna be one hell of a story to tell someday.

#My writing #sam drake x reader #samuel drake x reader #reader x sam drake #sam drake fanfiction