#like this fucking idiot man child switches so much and so fast he doesn’t know what he is ever and neither will you

[daincrediblegg]

He’s a bitchy little man child he’s a babygirl he’s a gnc king he’s a terrible mob boss he’s the worst sugar daddy you’ll ever meet I want to call his dick tiny (it’s not he’s average at best for sure but he loves to be humiliated) and slap his face and then get my world rocked publicly at his silly little bitch boy nightclub

#sorry I’ve been thinking about this fucking idiot half the night he’s just so fucking funny as a character #a real cinematic highlight and my god does ewan know how to play a high and a low when he needs to #this man is not a daddy but he wants to be #like this fucking idiot man child switches so much and so fast he doesn’t know what he is ever and neither will you #sorry I’m high on valerian root but this is just the vibe I feel re-watching this knowing full well I’m in a ‘played by’ rabbit hole and ofc #I wanna ideate about fucking him #roman sionis #birds of prey #his theme song is a mariana and the diamonds medly

[apparentlyaswarmofbees]

can you do a hc of the bros and would they help mc feel better. like mc is sad and what would the brothers say and do to make them feel better. idk if this has been done so yeah :)

Lol, let's see if I remember what being sick is like, haven't caught a single cold since the start of the year, and thank fuck for that too-

Also, once again, one more time, third time actually, it's hard to focus things on the MC as I try to make it possible for many to put themselves in the story (I know I have written one on MC liking insects but that was very self indulgent lol)

I will change things up a bit on the request, but if it was with my own MC, she would be fairly practicle, checking up on the brothers, giving them water and asking if they wanted food, even keeping company if not contagious. It will look like she is just being considerate but it actually pains her to see them sick, it's just that she is used to expressing herself in acts of service.

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When Your Seven Demons Get Sick

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Warning: a LOT of uncensored swearing

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Lucifer

We all know this can go two ways: either this piece of shit refuses to acknowledge that he is coughing like a damn nuclear explosion or he responsably takes his work home and refuses to fully rest because he needs to keep and eye on not only his brothers but also on the man child he works under that he somehow has come to fondly call a best friend.

So, yeah, tomato tomato.

His stress is reaching levels higher than celestial realm and he definetelly has been staring at a piece of document for way too long and not making any progress.

You will have to literally german suplex this man into his bed if you want him to get more than 5 seconds of shut eye.

It will take a while for his brain to process that 'oh yeah he can trust you to keep at least 10% of the house intact while he recovers'.

He may be a bit insufferable as he will attempt to work again, but it is a very adorable sight to have him whining, being way too happy at small gestures, and of course, his squishy cheeks as he sleeps soundly.

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Mammon

As long as he is being dramatic about it, you know he will live.

Though he probably won't realize he even is ferverish until someone points it out that his responses are much slower than normal.

Like, it took him one second too long to screech in terror and start running for his life when he spotted Levi's all nighter dying body crawling out of his bedroom!

And oh yes was he delighted to be deprived of his obligation to go to RAD until he got back to his full health.

Until he was not allowed to not do anything but rest for the entire day that is.

Yes he will be restess and willing to do anything just to be allowed to stand on the front porch for five seconds and yes you will end up threatening to tie him to the bed in a non kinky way and yes you will only be half joking.

Just make sure to keep close attention to his levels of drama so that you can spoil him properly when he truly feels bad.

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Leviathan

With him it can also go two ways: either he also doesn't fully realize until someone points it out or he will immediatelly let you a "Oh hell no" the moment he gives out a single cough that feels just a little bit out of the ordinary.

How he will take care of himself, if at all, will depend of the situation.

If there is absolutely nothing to lose from being sick other than the hability to breathe through his nose he would definetelly spent the entire recovering process binge watching slice of life animes while laying confortably on his tub.

If he had plans related to the things he is passionate about though?

I wish you luck because he is definetelly not backing down and will consequently make himself even more sick afterwards.

Although the extremelly satisfied expression we wears even when he can barely laugh without having a coughing fit kind of makes it all worthy in the end.

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Satan

The most chill sick person you will ever encounter and will always make sure to be responsable and nurture himself back to full health.

The catch though?

This big brained idiot definetelly doesn't know how to judge between what is small cold and straight up dying when it's about his own body.

So yes he is the kind of person who will always take some painkillers, drink water, lay on bed and read a book until he falls asleep no matter what the fuck he actually has.

So much for knowledge is power smh.

First off, he deserves to be vibe checked with the thickest medicine book you can find in the cluttered mess he calls a bedroom.

Second off, he is so much more prone to being pissy when he's sick. It's almost funny how fast he goes from :) to >:( in half a second the moment someone who isn't you steps inside his bedroom.

And last but not least, cat videos. No further explanation needed.

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Asmodeus

Oh someone have pity on this poor baby. He took so much care to not get himself sick and has managed to avoid even the worst of pandemies for centuries! So why now?!

He is basically so desperate to recover to the point he actually makes it take longer due to him stressing things out.

And he feels so sticky, he will basically want to take 5 showers per day.

Also his voice is basically gone?? And that just makes him want to s c r e a m ????

Locks himself inside his bedroom and throws a pity party.

Many of his posts on the media are something like "Oh no! I think I got sick? I am feeling a bit under the weather right now so, will you nurse me back to health~? Pretty please~ ❤" while in real life he is pretty much sneezing and coughing at the same time every 5 minutes.

If you bring him consolation sweets he might cry. Both because you're making him happy and because he is definetelly going to have to lose those extra calories later.

As much as he wants to cuddle he doesn't let you too close in case it's contagious and damn if he isn't rocking the pale skin, runny nose and swollen eyes.

He doesn't agree.

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Beelzebub

Big boy is definetelly one of the easiest demons to take care of when sick seeing he will to his most to not feel like a chore to you.

Yes he will lie when he feels unwell so that you don't worry.

And that's when you should vibe check him with a spoon.

Like yes you may be getting out of your way to take care of him but no it's no problem at all because yes you love him a lot and would do anything to see him get better and you know he would to the same if not more for you if switched places.

Happiness is the re ocurring 'aah's as you spoon feed your bed ridden man and watching as he keeps on smiling throughout each bite and eats everything like a good boy.

But you can't tell me he doesn't manage to get drunk on cough syrup though.

He is definetelly not as hungry as usual but damn this cough syrup tastes great.

The results are Beel going on a cursed chain of crypid comments in which he makes sure to whisper them in the strangeat ways you could imagine at the most random times always giving a happy smile once he is done.

He apparently doesn't recall any of it the next day-

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Belphegor

How he reacts to being sick completely depends on who is close enough to hear him whine.

Most of the time, whenever he feels anything out of ordinary, he will immediately text Beel in case this is just one more of their cases of twin-powers.

If he is actually sick though?

He will not stop whining, but then he gives a cute smile when he sees you and even makes a motion closely resembling grabby hands with his fingers as he raises one arm in your direction while saying some shit like "I missed you" when you literally were only gone for exactly 2 minutes to go grab him a cup of water and I think you can understand the power this little of shit has.

Be prepared to roll your eyes so much your eyes will probably start hurting.

The good side though? He is the only brother who listens exactly to what you tell him to do without feeling bad about being a burden. Though it's all because he doesn't wants you to worry about him any further than necessary.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me! shall we date? #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me scenarios #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor

[tamakissimp]

bakusquad- relationship headcanons

request:  @smexy-goose​ heLLO FRIEND. can i get hcs for the bakusquad boys and just how a relationship is like with them?? thank you so much!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

a/n: not me using Yagami Yato’s petnames ☺️ and you can really tell Sero’s my least fav oops

BAKUGOU:

Bakugou's s/o is the only person who won't be a victim to his harsh words

He won't even raise his voice, afraid that he'll scare them off

HOWEVER, he is a massive tease

"Are you blushing, teddybear?"

Lingering touches on your thighs and waist

Will pull you into a random, heated makeout session

Just as you're getting into it, he'll pull away

"What? Want more of me, baby?"

This. Man. Loves. PDA.

Even though he's self-conscious about how sweated he is, he'll still love holding your hand

He'll have you sitting on his lap, arms wrapped tightly around, planting soft kisses on your neck while he'll be yelling Kirishima's ears off at the same time

This dude loves cheesy dates. Picnics. Walks on the beach. You name it, he'll probably love it

"No, fuck off, shitty hair!" Bakugou barks. While his words are harsh and his tone is pointed, his touch is featherlight. His arms have snacked themselves around your waist and his hands are running up and down your arms. "You're fucking lying.".

Kirishima shakes his head. "Nu-uh, I'm telling you, the fourth one is the best Scream movie. Period," he says. The argument is stupid. Though all arguments the boys have are stupid and pointless.

"The first one is the best! After that, the movies just went to shit!". It honestly surprises you how your boyfriend can be so harsh to his friends but can shower you with affection the next.

You weave your fingers through Bakugou's spiky hair. He lets out a soft groan at the feeling of your nails dragging over his scalp. He leans into your touch more and you smile down at him.

"Actually," Denki says. "The second one is obviously the best. Sequels always rule!". Bakugou grabs a pillow from the couch and chucks it at Denki's head with such force that the electric boy falls onto the ground.

You swat Bakugou playfully against his chest and give him a warning glance. "Oh come on, Teddybear! You know I'm right," he says. You kiss your teeth and cock your head to the side.

"Well, I'm going to agree with Kiri," you say. Bakugou looks at you with big eyes. "The first one sucks, I'm sorry!". Bakugou shakes his head, moving his hands to your hips and pulling you off his lap.

"This is a betrayal," he says with a fake pout. You grab his face, one hand on each cheek, and give him. quick peck on his lips. He leans into your touch a bit, pout now melting away. "I still feel betrayed."

KIRISHIMA:

Kirishima is the best boyfriend ever

He will be your personal hype man

"Pebble, you look fine as hell."

"I'm pretty sure it's illegal to look this good, babe."

But don't worry, he drinks his respect-people so his compliments will be kept to a respective level

PDA is his thing, not intentional though

He just mindlessly grabs his s/o's hand or wraps his arm around them. His body just naturally gravitates to them

He wants to see you every day. Date nights every Friday and Saturday, he invites you to watch his train, call you to bring him lunch, he'll use any excuse to see you.

Walking through a campus full of highly talented students with amazing quirks is, honestly, terrifying. You keep your head down, avoiding gazes of confused students. It surprises you how few of the student body recognize you considering how much your boyfriends shows you off. "Pebble!".

You look up to see your favourite redhead walking towards you, waving happily. You smile at him and quicken your pace. Once he gets closer to you, you hold out the bento box you were holding for him. He grabs it from your hands before place a kiss on your cheek.

"Thanks, babe! I can't believe I forgot my lunch again," Kirishima says. You know he forgot his on purpose but you don't care. Seeing him brightens your day and you know that he needs to have someone who's not as pessimistic as Bakugou around him.

"Of course, I wanted to see you anyways," you say. Kirishima places a hand on your waist, pulling you closer towards him.

"Wanna eat lunch with me?" he asks. You nod. He smiles widely, showing off his pointy teeth as he moves his arm from your waist to now be draped over your shoulder.

You two starts to walk towards one of the lunch tables the school placed outside while Kirishima babbles on about his day. His happy ranting lights up your heart and makes your stomach do summersaults. "Idiot!" you hear someone yell from a distance.

It doesn't surprise you that it's Bakugou who's yelling. You look up at Kirishima, god he's tall, only to find him already looking at you with heart-eyes. "Hey guys," you call from a distance. His friends look over at the two of you. You sit down at the edge of the table, squished between Kirishima and Denki.

"Y/n! I didn't see you all day. I was starting to get worried," Denki says. Honestly, it had surprised most of his Kirishima's friends that you hadn't been around until noon.

"I know, I was starting to miss my big old shark," you say before giving Kirishima a peck on his cheek while he is stuffing the contents of his bento box into his mouth at rapid speed.

"Love you too, Pebble," he says with a mouthful of food. You smile at him. God, you loved this man-child.

DENKI:

God save the soul of his s/o

He is kind and thoughtful but so, so forgetful

His mind is just running on overtime so he'll forget about dates and miss anniversaries no matter how many reminders he sets on his phone

That being said he will make up for it in affectionEven if he's already together with his s/o he'll still flirt with them like crazy. 

Like, "did it hurt when you fell from heaven" type of flirting after being together for more than a year. But it's cute.

He is like a raven, he'll bring you any shiny thing he sees. Something about seeing you happy when he gifts you something as small as a shiny coin makes his heart buzz.

He is a massive cuddler. Anywhere, anything, no matter what.

"Baby," Denki whines out. You simply shake your head. You want to cave in but you couldn't. "Please, just one."."No," you say. "You said it yourself, train for an hour then we can cuddle. Just three more minutes, baby.". Denki's cheeks heat up at the pet name. He nods. Three minutes aren't so bad right.

Your eyes are focused on him as you watch your boyfriend train. Clearly, he's showing off but you don't care. All you can do is stare at him with heart eyes, amazed at his quirk. Denki's so busy showing off that he doesn't even realize he has been training for an extra fifteen minutes.

 It's only when he looks over at the clock on the wall while catching his breath that he realizes it. His muscles ache and he mentally slaps himself for pushing himself so far but it's all worth it when he sees the awestruck look on your face. "Like watching all this muscle in action, buzzy beautiful sunshine nugget?" he says a smirk. 

All you can do is nod as you make grabby hands towards him. Denki practically runs over to you, falling right on top of you. Thank god the school placed as a couch in the training room. Denki's body pushed you further into the soft cushions while his arms snake around you. 

"You did so well," you say as you start running your fingers through his hair. He groans in pleasure, basking at the affection. "I'm so proud of you.". All Denki can do is smile and nod as the over-excursion on his body finally starts to kick in. "So proud."

"Thank you, sunshine," Denki says. "Did you see my zappies? It's like...super zappy.". Zappies. That's a new one. God, he's tired. You move your hand from his hair to his chin, lifting it so that he looks at you.

His puppy dog eyes stare up at you. "Wanna cuddle in your dorm instead?" you ask. You have never seen him stand up so fast. Denki's pulling at your hand to get you up and off the couch.

"Let's go, baby," Denki says. "My bed is waiting for us.".

SERO:

Just like Denki, he'll still flirt with his s/o but not as much. It's honestly cute.

"Damn, you look hotter than Bakugou's explosions,"

Earns him a smack on the head from Bakugou

He loves to wear matching outfits. It's so cliche but his heart will melt if his s/o buy matching sweaters for two of them.

He loves small domestic things. Cook together or clean the house while jamming to songs and he'll fall even further in love.

He loves it when his s/o please with his hair. Sometimes he'll grab their hand and just place it on his head, expecting them to know what to do.

Sharing ramen shouldn't be so romantic, but God did it make your heart do summersaults when Sero holds out his chopsticks for you. You lean forward, eating the ramen hanging from the wooden sticks. Yep, this shouldn't be romantic but it is. You smile at him with cheeks stuffed full with hot ramen.

You pick up your chopsticks as you grab a piece of your takoyaki. You hold it out for your boyfriend who happily eats the food. He smiles back at you while chewing on the food. "Is it good?" you ask.

"Hell yeah, wanna switch?" Sero asks. You nod, grabbing his bowl of ramen as he grabs your plate of takoyaki. You did this often, switching meals multiple times during dates.

"Anyways, I was thinking about going to the movies afterwards," you say as you grab another bite of your, or rather Sero's, ramen. Sero nods.

He grabs another ball of takoyaki and stuffs it into his mouth. "The scary one?" he asks. You nod. A smile spreads over his lips. God, how you love that smile. That smile that lights up your world.

"Just admit it, you only want to watch that one because you'll be able to cuddle up to me," he says. Your cheeks heat up at his words. Shit, he saw through your plans. He points an accusing finger to you. "I knew it. Don't worry baby, I don't mind.".

It's so secret that Sero is a cuddle bug. A huge one. Every time you were around him he had both his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, your body pulled impossibly close to his. Though you wouldn't have it any other way.

#bnha imagine #bnha x reader #bnha fanfic #bnha #mha x reader #mha imagine #mha #my hero x reader #hero academia x reader #hero academia #bnha kirishima #kirishima fluff #kirishima x reader #kirishima #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo #Katsuki x reader #katuski imagine #katuski bakugou #Sero x reader #Sero imagine #hanta imagine #hante x reader #Hanta Sero x reader #Hanta Sero imagine #denki #denki kaminari

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

Hello you told me not to hold back so I’m gonna be ANNOYING feel free to ignore indefinitely until you’re feeling it but I’m gonna send you like a bunch of prompts cause I can’t sleep and am stalling finishing my own fic.

First one: Bobby (obviously), Reggie or Luke or friends I don’t even care, tea and blankets

lol hi have a rebuke cuddle-puddle disaster, also available on ao3 here. warning for swearing and very vague allusions to physical child abuse.

i guess we belong to each other | reggielukebobby | 1.8k words

--

Luke has his guitar in his lap and his writing notebook by his side even though it's late at night. He's playing his acoustic, so that he has no chance of stirring Bobby's parents from where he's sat in their studio, and though he'd never admit it to anyone, it's cold enough that he's found one of Alex's hoodies in the back of the studio, a black one Alex never wears any more, and he's bundled up in it to try to fight off the chills. He regrets storming out earlier this evening — not because his parents might be worried, he's still too mad at them for that, but because he misses his own warm bed in a house with central heating.

But it's late, and he doesn't want to bother Bobby, who's already been generous enough as it is (and is exceptionally grumpy when he's woken in the middle of the night). So Alex's old hoodie, smelling vaguely of the dusty studio and distantly of Alex, will have to do.

A noise distracts Luke from his writing. Something outside the studio, maybe an animal, but it sounded like footsteps. Cautiously, he draws his guitar closer, running through what he could say if it's Bobby's parents, his heart suddenly rabbit-fast in his chest.

A head pokes through the door.

Luke's shoulders drop with relief.

It's Reggie.

He looks a little scruffy, not like himself, because usually Reggie pays such close attention to his appearance, fusses over his hair and colour-codes his outfits and shaves with the precision of a professional painter. But he kinda looks messy, which makes Luke's stomach feel even colder than the air around him.

“Oh! Hey, man,” Reggie laughs, putting on a big smile, and it'd fool anyone else — Reggie's too experienced at this for his own good. “I didn't know you'd be here!”

“Hi, Reg,” says Luke, sounding a little distracted even to his own ears as he carefully looks Reggie over. He's not walking like he's been hurt, and there are no visible injuries. So that's something. Jesus, Luke wouldn't know what to do if Reggie turned up here with a fresh version of the bruises Luke sometimes catches him trying to hide. “You, uh — you good?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Reggie agrees easily, saunters into the studio and slumps down on the couch next to Luke. The relaxed way he moves soothes Luke's worry somewhat. “The house was just — ugh. You know how they can be.” Looking over at Luke, Reggie adds, “Hey, isn't that Alex's hoodie? I was wondering what had happened to that.”

“Hey!” Luke sputters, a little defensive. “He didn't, like, loan it to me or anything, it was just here! I found it.”

“It is cold,” Reggie concedes, pulling his flannel a little tighter around him. “Wish I'd brought my jacket, but it was in the kitchen and I didn't wanna. I dunno. Didn't wanna get in the way.”

Luke nods, puts his guitar to the side so he can press up against Reggie's side. Hip to hip, his cheek on Reggie's shoulder, links their ankles together and puts an arm over Reggie's stomach. Almost automatically, Reggie links his arms around Luke in turn.

Honestly, Luke was intending to steal some of Reggie's body heat, but after Reggie's walk outside and in such a thin layer, he thinks Reggie's probably leeching his own. Luke lets him go ahead; Reggie seems to need it more than he does.

They sit for a moment, both unusually quiet, huddling and not talking. Not so much for a lack of things to talk about, but more because any topic that comes to Luke's mind feels insurmountably complex and emotional. There’s so much stuff he can't tell Reggie — so much stuff Reggie isn't telling him. So they sit together and try to create some warmth without the need for disclosure.

Until there's another set of scuffled footsteps outside.

“Not Alex too,” Reggie sighs, at a whispered volume so that the newcomer can't hear him, “he squirms so much in his sleep, man, I can't share this pull-out with him again.”

Luke muffles a laugh with the back of his hand, but he can't help worry it's Alex, too. Things have been... okay, he thinks, with Alex's folks since he came out, but he also knows Alex hoped for better. Suspects there are things Alex isn't telling them (so they all have that in common).

But it's not Alex. Preceded by an armful of blankets that he's almost tripping on, Bobby staggers in, still in his pajamas and with his eyes almost all the way closed. “Luke? It's fucking freezing, I thought I'd—” He stops when he gets far enough in to see Reggie on the couch too. “Oh, shit.”

“Hey, Bobby,” says Reggie, voice a little nervous. “I hope it's okay that I—”

“Shut up,” Bobby grumbles, and dumps the whole pile of blankets on top of Reggie. “You guys are stupid. You're both out here, in the freezing cold, and neither of you come wake me up?”

“We didn't want—” Luke starts, at the same time as Reggie insists, “You were sleeping—!”

“Idiots,” Bobby growls, rubbing his eye with his sweater paw and yawning. He looks stupidly cute, like a little kid. “You're idiots, and I hate dealing with you. I'll be back.” Turning to leave the studio again, he turns back and adds, “Hurry up and burrito yourselves in those blankets, I swear to god. And Luke, isn’t that Alex’s hoodie?”

“He left it—!” Luke starts, but Bobby’s already gone, leaving Luke with Reggie, cackling at him.

—

By the time Bobby returns, Luke and Reggie have folded the couch out into its bed form, and are snuggling under the several blankets, giggling together as they talk about how grumpy Bobby had been.

“We should have woken him up,” Reggie snorts, “I think then he would have been less pissed.”

“I would have,” Bobby agrees, sounding somewhere between menacing and amused, as he reappears over them. His hair is all shaggy in his face. He's carrying a teapot. And cups. “Sit up.”

Luke does right away, Reggie pulling himself up a little slower. Bobby sits cross-legged at the foot of the couch-bed, tucking his socked toes under his own legs to keep warm, and pours them each a mug of what smells like peppermint tea. Suddenly, Luke can't imagine anything better in the world. When Bobby offers him a cup, he takes it eagerly, wrapping his cold hands around it and enjoying the steam wafting up to his face.

“Wow,” says Reggie softly, eyes wide, “thanks, Bobby.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Luke echoes, letting out a sigh as he takes his first sip.

“Forget it,” Bobby says, a little bitey. Luke knows it's because Bobby hates being seen as nice, so he doesn't take it personally, and he knows Reggie won't either. He has his own cup, which he drinks as though it's done something to offend him, scowling off into the corner of the studio. Reggie nudges Bobby with his foot from under the layers of blankets, and a tiny smile tugs at Bobby's mouth as he nudges Reggie back with his elbow.

After the cup of tea, Luke feels better. He feels warmer on the inside, now, and sleepy too. Reggie is starting to get that dopey, slow blink that shows he's on the verge of sleep as well. Bobby clears his throat and holds out a hand, beckoning for their empty cups. Luke and Reggie hand them over.

“Okay,” says Bobby, after a pause. “G'night, guys.” He goes to stand, but Reggie leans forward and catches Bobby's sleeve.

“Would you stay?” he asks, as if he can't help himself, as if on sheer impulse, but he doesn’t look embarrassed afterwards.

“Reg!” Luke says, a little startled. “It's cold out here, he won't want—”

But he sees Bobby's face, and he stops himself. Because he can see it in Bobby's eyes. That he does want. He’s Bobby, so he won't say it, his mouth pressed into a thin line, his gaze fixed on some point behind Luke and Reggie's heads, but Luke has known Bobby for too long to miss something this obvious, no matter what else Bobby can hide from him.

“That being said,” Luke backtracks hurriedly, “it would be warmer with you here, Wilson. I'm happy to be a leech.”

“That's all I'm good for, huh?” Bobby snorts, but he's already setting the mugs down on the floor near the side of the bed, already shuffling the teapot down there too. He hops up for a moment, and Luke wonders where he’s going, before he realises Bobby is just switching off the light. When Bobby comes back, he pauses, like he's not sure where he fits, and Luke and Reggie make eye contact for only a second before they move apart, leaving a space in the middle.

Bobby looks even less sure of himself, eyebrows knitted, jaw tight. His hands flex and one of them twists in the hem of his sweater. Luke gets it. It looks too much like it's on Bobby's behalf, like they’re doing it to make space for Bobby. Bobby’s always had trouble accepting anything that seems like it’s for his own benefit.

“I already sucked all Reggie's warmth up,” Luke explains.

“Yeah,” Reggie agrees immediately, and Luke loves him, “and you're warmer than Luke anyway, man. I wanna huddle with you. As a penguin, you would be my first-choice huddle-buddy.”

Bobby barks a laugh. “The fuck? What does that even mean?” Finally, he wriggles his way under the blankets in between them, and rolls his eyes when they both throw limbs over him right away, twining legs and arms together and resting cheeks on his chest.

“Like, if we were penguins. You know? In the winter?” Reggie says, like this is totally obvious and self-explanatory. “If I was a penguin, I'd be looking for the Bobby-penguin in the winter huddle to stick close to.”

“Aaand I'm at my capacity for dumb shit,” Bobby says, closing his eyes pointedly, but it's a scam, because his hands come to run through Luke and Reggie's hair. “Goodnight, morons.”

“Goodnight, Bobby,” they chorus. This close, Luke could almost brush noses with Reggie, has to try to focus his eyes to keep Reggie from getting blurry. Reggie sticks his tongue out at Luke just a little, and Luke grins back, links his fingers with Reggie’s over Bobby’s stomach, rubbing over Reggie’s knuckles until Reggie’s fingers don’t feel so much like icicles. When Luke uses his free hand to tug the neckline of Alex’s hoodie up over his nose, the familiar smell of the third piece of his heart soothes him right down.

The feel of Bobby’s fingernails on his scalp makes Luke’s eyelids flutter, and before he knows it he’s dopey, the world feeling blurrier and safer and cozier. Honestly, more like home than his own house would have. He no longer daydreams of returning to his own warm bed. Instead, he feels the way Bobby’s chest rises and falls with his breaths, pushing his and Reggie’s joined hands up and down. If he listens closely, Luke can hear Bobby’s heartbeat, familiar and steady.

Maybe the cold isn't all bad.

--

other prompt fills here :)

jatp taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed!): @queenmolina @nickalicious @bi-reginald @malecacidd @burntchromas @jughead-is-canonically-aroace @cinnamonstickrayofsunlight @chickwiththepurpleguitar @fairylightsandrainydays @joyandthephantoms @fighttoshine @michelangelinda @queenofthequillandink 

#jatp #julie and the phantoms #reggie peters #bobby wilson #luke patterson #lukebobby #boggie brain rot #rebuke #idk how else to tag this LOL #my fic #chickwiththepurpleguitar #peterpatter

[joonie-beanie]

The OM! Characters as Retail Workers/Positions from my old job

Full disclosure: I’ve only had 1 retail job, and it was at a Homegoods. I worked there for 3+ years during college. Because I’ve only had this one experience, my below hc’s for the boys may be a little...specific to my previous job, and not universal traits that come with all retail jobs. 

Also I’m not including Luke because thattttt is child labor.

This is probably a very self-indulgent headcannon. Oh well.

Lucifer: 

(One of) the store managers. Specifically the assistant manager.

Nice to customers to their face, but will fantasize about stabbing them once they leave. 

Asmo once walked past the manager’s office and witnessed Lucifer professionally apologizing to a bitching customer over the phone, only to slam the receiver down moments later, sighing and mumbling “what an idiot.”

Very watchful of his staff. Do not slack off while he’s working....unless he likes you. In which case, he will take a moment to chat with you and give himself a much needed break. 

If he doesn’t like you, well...make yourself busy, or else you’ll get a stern talking to, and likely written up. Lucifer already has too much work to get done--he doesn’t want to babysit his staff.

Quietly schedules the people he likes to work during his shifts whenever he can, since he knows he can trust them to do their work. Not to mention, he enjoys their company a lot.

His favorite crew to have is Beel, Asmo, and Satan (and MC). Their schedules, of course, don’t always line up, but when they do he seriously thinks that he has the dream team.

Mammon: 

Cannot be trusted to actually organize the store, so he gets stuck at the registers.

However, the managers quickly realize that he's shit at anything front-end related aside from counting money (the man likes his money), and that he's prone to pulling out his phone when no one is around, so Lucifer forces him to work the floor. 

They start trying to give him more backroom shifts (because if he's not doing his work, they'll be able to tell easier).

HOWEVER--because Mammon is such a money lover, he’s very aware of every piece of expensive merchandise in the store. So if a customer attempts to switch tags, or peels the price tag off hoping to pull a quick one on the cashier, his coworkers always call him up so he can take a look.

Seriously, the amount of people that try to buy the $100+ gem rocks for $9.99 is crazy.

He feels very proud of himself whenever he manages to stop a customer from getting away with it.

He’s not the best worker in general, but the mangers would be lying if the said they didn’t appreciate his knack for remembering the expensive items.

Levi: 

Cash office.

Prefers to sit in the locked office by himself, listening to music on his phone as he runs checks the register balances from the previous day.

If he's not doing cash office, he's probably out gathering carts, or compacting boxes in the back.

Whatever keeps him away from the bulk of customers.

Whenever the managers need him to go help out on the floor, he gets permission to not wear his apron.

He seriously does not want anyone to talk to him. He just wants to work in peace.

Of course, if he’s seen organizing, or stocking shelves, customers tend to assume he’s an employee anyway--even without the apron.

Levi legitimately jumps anytime someone calls out to him and asks if he works there, and if he can help them. 

Oh, and he always brings his Switch to work and plays games on his lunch break. Do not talk to him if he’s playing his game--he will get mad at you.

Satan: 

Flow & mark-downs.

He's basically an all-rounder, but is superior to the others in putting out new merchandise (flow). He knows where things go, and how they should be organized. 

Secretly gets annoyed when customers ask him for help when he's in the zone, but is very good at faking a smile.

Will do what’s asked of him without any lip in return.

However, rude customers should beware of him, because his anger tends to flip on like a switch. If a customer is badmouthing him, or one of his coworkers--he has no issue telling them they’re a fool, and that they should just leave instead of causing issues.

He gets in trouble with management for doing this, but honestly has no regrets.

Definitely has regular customers that he is enemies with.

Gets left in charge of the store if the managers ever need to step away for their lunch break, or otherwise.

Asmo: 

Lead cashier. 

Super charming, great customer service voice. 

Always gives a good impression on the phone, and manages to make peppy announcements. 

If there’s ever a fundraiser going on, and the cashiers are supposed to ask for donations, Asmo is guaranteed to rake in the most.

He is very good at calming a customer if they're upset--apologizing and and being so sweet and polite that it’s nearly impossible to stay mad.

However, if they're rude to him, or his apologies go on deaf ears, he has no problem politely telling them to fuck off.

If he’s not at the registers, he’s probably off in the bath section--smelling soap--or the candle section--sniffing literally every candle in existence.

He’ll also be sure to get a whiff of whatever candle/soap a customer has brought to the register to purchase.

Runs off to visit other stores in the mall/strip when he’s on his break. (Aka. he spends way too much of his paycheck shopping).

Beel: 

Back room - heavy lifter. 

Dude spends most of the day in the stock room emptying the truck and building furniture.

Seriously can move big things with very little effort. He once carried an entire couch out onto the sales floor buy himself. 

While other coworkers may need to use carts or flatbeds to move larger items, Beel can legit just throw them over his shoulder and continue on his way like he’s not carrying anything at all.

He looks intimidating but is actually super friendly.

Will always work extra hours if you ask him to. Will also come in for extra shifts if you ask him to.

He always feels so guilty if he can’t accept, or needs to call off.

The type of coworker that goes out to buy snacks on his break, and ends up buy snacks for the rest of the staff. He just leaves them on the break room table with a note that says “Eat up :)”

Belphie: 

Closer - Sales Floor. 

The managers tried to work him on morning or midday shifts, but he was continuously too groggy, and ended up knocking things over on accident.

Hes more energetic at night, so they put him on the sales floor (since he’s honestly...not the best at the register. Don’t get me wrong, he can work the register as well as anyone else, but...he just...doesn’t sound friendly. (Lucifer: “Belphie...at least try to sound like you’re not working here against your will when talking to the customers. You applied for this job.”))

He honestly doesn't mind organizing merchandise, but gets annoyed if he ends up doing the bulk of the work. (Whether it’s because they’re short staffed, or because his coworkers are slacking).

Has no problem telling customers to gtfo when it’s closing time.

If people are still in the store 5 minutes after closing, he’ll follow them around until they finally take the hint and leave.

Always stops for fast food on his way home after work because making himself a meal sounds like too much effort.

Diavolo:

Store Manager.

Is very kind to all of his employees, but will also have hard conversations with them if there’s an issue regarding their performance that needs to be addressed.

However, he always does his best to maintain good relationships with everyone he works with.

Will buy lunch for the staff on busy weekends, even if he has to pay for the food himself. He wants to let his employees know that they’re appreciated, and while he’s the type to give verbal affirmation of a job well done, a luncheon doesn’t hurt either.

Even if customers are bitchy, he never raises his voice, or yells. He handles complaints like a champ.

If the customer physically or verbally abuses one of his workers, however...he will threaten to call the police. Do not fuck with his work children.

If his employees ever find him sighing, or looking like he’s stressed, then they know he’s definitely having a rough day. Please work hard, and help him out, and he’ll very much appreciate it. 

Barbatos:

The 4th key. (Basically a manager)

Some workers are scared of him because he always seems to be in a good mood--even if the store is packed, and things get overwhelming.

A very by-the-book type. While Lucifer and Diavolo may allow for some things to get overlooked, or for there to be a lapse in proper procedure, Barbatos is not like that. Rules are rules, and they shall be followed.

Honestly is a very nice guy, but working a closing shift with him can be the worst. Especially if Diavolo is the opening manager the next day. 

He will keep his staff there after closing as long as he needs to for the store to be in an acceptable condition. (The worst part is that Diavolo honestly is so easy going that if Barbatos had just opted to say “we were very busy and didn’t have the time to get everything done”, Diavolo wouldn’t blame him. Shit gets crazy).

Alas, Barbatos wants to please Diavolo and takes his role very seriously.

At least he brings in homemade baked goods for the staff sometimes. (His good cooking usually makes up for all the times he has kept them late).

Solomon:

Another all rounder. Usually get scheduled on midday shifts to bridge the gap between the openers, and closers. 

Is very good at keeping up his “customer service” facade. 

However, once there are no customers around his smile will fall, and he’ll mumble complaints under his breath. 

“Why does one couple need 15 candles?” “Lady, I don’t care about your chihuahua’s sleeping habits--just buy the pet bed already.”

Will always tease his coworkers if he gets along with them. Bickering with Solomon can become a very entertaining past time if he likes you.

Whenever new crystals, or rocks come in, usually he’ll spend a while inspecting them. Apparently he can tell which ones are real, or fake. (And he always ends up buying the real ones).

He’s the type of coworker that will sneak up behind you and scare you when you’re not paying attention. Just because he can. (Fight him, he loves it).

Simeon: 

One of the sweetest staff members, but he’s prone to getting flustered and making mistakes.

If he’s on registers, he’s so busy trying to start a conversation with the customer that he’ll short them on their change. 

Luckily, the customer is either patient in waiting for the manager to come up and open the register, or doesn’t care about the 22 cents Simeon forgot to give them.

He loves reorganizing the towel section of the store the most. Getting to stand there and refold towels almost feels like meditation to him.

Always goes out of his way to ask the customer if he can help them with anything, or if they’re finding everything alright.

Is prone to accidentally cutting himself when something sharp breaks. (It has literally gotten to the point where if a ceramic plate or something glass breaks, the managers have instructed Simeon to call someone else to clean it up, rather than doing it himself.)

Honestly, in the end, he’s a fabulous worker tho.

#i have so many stupid stories from my retail job lmao #om! #obey me #obey me headcanons #lucifer #mammon #levi #leviathan #satan #asmo #asmodeus #beel #beelzebub #belphie #belphegor #diavolo #barbatos #simeon #solomon

[super-secret-sick-fics]

hii you said that requests were open so i was wondering if you’d want to write an iwaoi sick fic? like it’s a middle of a practice match agaisnt some school and oikawa feels sick but doesn’t tell anyone beforehand?

Hello and thank you for the request!! I hope this is kinda what you wanted. I tried :) sorry it took me a minute!

An Off Day: an IwaOi Sick fic

Pairing: Sick Oikawa, Caretaker Iwaizumi

Words: ? (I didn’t get a count sorry—longer though)

Warnings: fever, passing out, cursing

————————

It was a dull day.

Oikawa sat in class, his head resting on his palm, and everything just felt faded. Existing as a human today seemed like entirely too much work.

He wasn’t sure what it was, but his entire day, his surroundings, his overall demeanor— none of them were as vivid and bright as usual. Things were just...off.

He felt off.

A lethargic and overall blah feeling clung to him like a thick winter coat, making him feel like he couldn’t breathe and leaving his head muddled. He didn’t know what was going on with his body and it was incredibly frustrating.

Oikawa scoffed to himself, ignoring the curious side eye from the girl next to him, and resolutely decided to ignore the dull, blah feeling. Surely if he willed himself to feel less blah, then that would put the pep back in his step. Besides, this was his last class of the day and then it was time for practice.

They were playing some no-name, no-skill team in what Oikawa deemed a “charity” practice match. For the other team, it would be a learning experience. For Seijoh, it would be another victory to add to their running total.

Class finally ended and he stood up to head to the club room. Immediately, his knees buckled and black spots danced in his vision. A small hand grasped his upper arm and held him steady. Once the spots cleared, he saw the small girl who sits next to him looking up at him, concern etched into her face.

“Oikawa-san? You look pale. You should go home and rest. I’m sure they’ll be okay without you at practice today.” He shook his head.

“I just got up too fast. Thank you for helping me out,” he smiled and she hesitantly let his arm go. She nodded, grabbed her bag, and left the classroom.

Oikawa, much to his dismay, was still dizzy though. He placed his hands on his desk and ducked his head, squeezing his eyes shut while he waited for it to pass.

In the club room, he met up with Iwaizumi and chatted with his other teammates here and there, resolutely ignoring the fatigue thay plagued him.

Warm-ups came and went and their coach went over the rotation for the practice match. All the while, the lethargy he felt never went away like he thought it would. In fact, it seemed to be increasing and there was now a dull, consistent thudding in his head. Maybe it was more than just an off day? Maybe something was wrong?

He didn’t get much time to explore the new thoughts, because the other team arrived and their practice match began. Oikawa was right; the other team wasn’t a challenge in the slightest. The fact that it was any easy game didn’t make him feel any better about his complete lack of game.

Nearly every single one of his sets was wrong. Too high or too low. Too far left or right. The ball wasn’t settling in his fingers the way he needed it too and it all irritated him to no end.

He couldn’t concentrate. Every now and then, the court tilted dangerously sideways and he had to consciously ground his feet to bring it back to equilibrium. He was starting to feel weak. His limbs weighed about 1,000 lbs, making every lift of his arms to set the ball or movement of his legs to cross the court a Herculean effort. All he wanted was to curl up on the ground and take a nap.

“Hey, you okay?” Matsu walked up to him during a break between serves and put a hand on his shoulder. He was frowning. Oikawa glowered at him.

Was he okay? No. Of course not. He was 98% sure that he had a fever. Would that stop him from playing? No. Of course not. This was an easy team to beat. If he couldn’t push through this, then he wasn’t worth anything to his team.

“Yeah. Fine.” He snapped. Matsuhana put his hands up and backed away. Play resumed.

It was just a cold. He could shake this feeling if he just pushed through it hard enough. If Oikawa was confident of anything, it was his ability to ignore negative feelings and punch through bad moods.

That confidence slowly drained out of Oikawa along with any energy and focus he may have had the longer the game continued.

The two teams switched sides of the court and Iwaizumi appeared at his side.

“Hey, what’s the deal? You okay? We should have taken this set a long time ago,” he grumbled, his usual grumpy tone setting all of Oikawa’s already frazzled nerves even more on edge. His lip curled as he glanced over at his best friend.

“Thanks, Iwa-chan, I didn’t realize,” he sneered. Iwa’s eyes widened and he blinked comically. Oikawa would have made a joke if he wasn’t feeling so shitty.

“Don’t take it out on me, Trashykawa,” Iwa’s eyes narrowed, “your sets have been off all match.”

Oikawa felt like he was slapped in the face because he knew that. Of course he was more than aware that not a single one of his sets hit their mark yet. It was eating away at him and it made his stomach churn. He could do this though. He would not let his team down.

“I know,” he muttered. Iwa’s face changed again, but Oikawa’s vision blurred and he couldn’t make out what expression the ace had. He walked away.

“Oi, come back here a seco—“ Iwa started but was cut off by their coach.

“Iwaizumi! You gonna stand around and talk all day or are you gonna let us resume the match?”

He glanced one more time at Oikawa before getting into position. Oikawa thought maybe he looked concerned or upset or something, but he honestly didn’t have the energy to figure it out. It was all he could do to stand up right.

The set continued and each passing second was an eternity to Oikawa. Black spots popped up more frequently and he had to squeeze his eyes shut quickly and exhale to keep himself from passing out. It was a losing battle.

The dull thud in his head grew into a steady pounding that took up residence behind his eyes, leaving him vaguely nauseated. It was getting harder to breathe, even though he wasn’t running around like he normally would be. The gym swirled and he blinked several times, but it wasn’t going back to normal. The sounds of shouting and squeaking shoes faded away, replaced by a strange roaring sound.

Oikawa realized very quickly that he was in serious trouble.

“Oikawa!” Wataru’s shout cut through the roaring and sent a sharp pain through his head. As quickly as it left, the roaring in his ears returned and with it, his vision completely blacked out. It took all his effort to call out for help.

“Iwa-cha—“ the sound got caught in his throat and his body crumpled to the floor.

The next thing he knew, Oikawa was staring at the ceiling. He blinked a few times and groaned. The lights beaming down on him reminded him of the migraine he definitely had and he shivered. Why was he on the ground?

“Tooru? Oh thank god,” Iwa’s face entered his field of vision (and blocked the light, thankfully). His voice was shaking and desperate, adding to Oikawa’s confusion.

“Iwa-chan?” He said feebly.

“Are you okay? What hurts? Fuck, Tooru. You scared the shit out of me,” Iwaizumi was frantic, his hands cupping Oikawa’s face, making the sick boy cringe. Touching was no good. He didn’t want that right now.

The corners of Iwaizumi’s mouth pulled down and his eyebrows scrunched. He moved one of his hand’s to Oikawa’s forehead and the other to his own. His eyes blew wide.

“Holy shit, Tooru! Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick, dumbass?”

Oh. He’d been caught.

“Would you believe me if I told you I didn’t know?” He smiled weakly up at his best friend, who scoffed in return.

“Idiot,” he mumbled before turning his head towards somewhere above Oikawa. The lights pierced Oikawa’s vision and he moaned when his head pulsated. He tried to curl up, but Iwaizumi was already trying to get him standing.

“Coach, he’s got a fever,” Iwaizumi shouted across the gym and Oikawa’s knees buckled. Luckily, Iwa’s arms were securely around his waist.

“I’m gonna take him to the club room and call one of our moms to come pick us up. Do you need me here?”

“No, go take care of our idiot captain,” their coach responded, his arms crossed over his chest. Normally, Oikawa would’ve squaked at the insult, but it was taking all of his attention to stay awake.

“We got this man. Go handle the child,” Makki snickered.

“Mean, Makki,” Oikawa managed to whine as he and Iwa stumbled out of the gym.

By the time they got back to the club room, Oikawa was sweating profusely, panting, and leaning almost all of his weight on Iwaizumi.

Iwa led them to the back of the clubroom and guided them down to sit against the wall. Oikawa shivered and immediately curled into Iwa’s side.

“How the hell did you let it get so bad, Shittykawa,” Iwa questioned. His tone held more concern than malice and it settled Oikawa’s nerves ever so slightly.

“Mmm, so warm Iwa-chan,” was all Oikawa could respond with. Iwaizumi scoffed, but threw an arm around Oikawa’s shoulder and pulled him closer anyway. The setter smiled.

“Yo, who should I call?” Iwaizumi asked, his tone still lacking its normal gruffness.

“Everyone in my family is working right now, Iwa-chan. No one is going to pick up,” Oikawa said. His throat was getting sore now. That means he’s sick sick. He frowned. Another shiver shot up his spine.

Iwa sighed, “okay. I’ll call my mom. She won’t be able to get here for at least half an hour though. Will you be okay until then? We can take the bus if you want.”

Oikawa nuzzled into Iwa’s shoulder. The smallest hints of his cologne were still present, despite getting sweaty from practice.

“No. No bus. We’ll want for Auntie, if that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll call her.”

“I’m sorry, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa yawned. His eyes started drifting closed. Man, did a nap sound perfect right now.

“Don’t apologize, Tooru. Just scared me,” Iwa muttered and Oikawa felt the ace’s nose nuzzle into the top of his head. He relaxed further, in spite of the chills running through his body.

“Get some rest. I’ll wake you when my mom gets here,” Iwa whispered and Oikawa couldn’t remember the last time he sounded so soft. At least towards him anyway. Iwaizumi pulled Oikawa down gently so the setter’s head was pillowed on his lap.

Oikawa fell asleep to Iwaizumi’s gentle hands carding through his hair.

#iwaoi #sick oikawa #fever #fainting #haikyuu sickfic #caretaker Iwaizumi #my fic

[squidlyskeet]

Joy Ride -.003

Pairing: StreetRacer!Bakugou x Fem!reader

Genre: TokyoDrift!au, Noquirks!au

Status: Ongoing

TW: violence, blood, firearms, eventual nsfw, 18+, mentions of anxiety and OCD disorders, grand theft auto, gang activity.

Summary:

It started with a simple question, “what do you say Y/n? You coming?”

After the sudden death of her mother, Y/n is sent to live with her estranged aunt halfway across the world in Tokyo, Japan. Weary of what this new adventure might hold for her, she decides to let loose the first night she was there, but how was Y/n supposed to know it would lead to a car chase? A car chase in the the passenger seat of a very angry, very hot, street racer’s super car?

A/n: I have not a clue what’s going on with my text seperator, and these are taking for E V E R TO POST. Don’t mind me, this is just a fic dump at this point. Also I just want to point out that BOLD ITALICS are meant to be words spoken in Japanese. I didn’t realize it wasn’t keeping the font when moving the chapters from my word doc’s to here, so I’ll go back through and edit them so they make more sense. ✌🏻-squidlyskeet.

═══☩══♛══☩═══

 “Oi. What the hell is this.” A stern voice gritted out from behind us.

  I didn’t understand a word but I knew it probably couldn’t be good. For some reason I felt like this was the infamous Bakugou.

 “Oi Bakubro, where were you man. The race is about to start.” The red head, Kiri I think, blasted back in Japanese.

  My confusion was spiraling as they continued their conversation. I still hadn’t turned around, and was debating how fast I could turn to leave and walk off without anybody questioning me.

   Ochakos attention was taken when Deku signaled her to come over to help with something he was fiddling with, and now I was stuck between two very heated men as they rambled back and forth in Japanese.

   In a split decision, I turned my heel and attempted to side step the man behind me. Figuring retreat was my best way out of this.

     I made it a few steps before I let myself breathe again but I was halted when I felt a firm grip on my arm and a menacing aura behind me.

 “Who the fuck are you?” The voice said, I still hadn’t looked in his direction, and if it were up to me I never would.

“Dude ease up, she doesn’t speak Japanese.” Kiri spoke, before anyone else could get a word in. I look at him in silent thanks, not understanding but would recognize the defensive tone anywhere.

“Tch. Look at me,” The voice, Bakugou, demanded.

   I gulped fruitlessly trying to wet my dry mouth, and decided to give in and just look at him. If I dwelled too hard on his blatant hatred, I was afraid a flip would switch and I’d be thrown into a debilitating anxiety attack.

    When I finally turned my body around to face him, that same slow motion effect kicked in as I traced his features with my eyes. His full lips were tight and slightly open, showing off his perfectly white teeth clenched underneath. Some of his pale blonde hair fell in his ruby red eyes, which were focused and narrowed on me. He was stunningly handsome, the kind of man you’d do a double take at to make sure he looked as good as the first time you glanced. Only to find out he was better looking.

     His body was lean and muscular, the tight fit of his tank top showing off his biceps and forearms. He was bent down, probably trying to intimidate me, and like the other two massive guys he was towering over me too.

 In conclusion, Bakugou looked like he was made of all hard angles. From his personality to his body, nothing but ice cold stone.

 I didn’t realize I was staring until his gravelly broken English spoke up again.

  “The hell are you staring at. Who are you?” His voice came out just as terrifying as before, but he relaxed his grip when I jumped back at his tone.

 Heat spread through my cheeks, I was ashamed I was showing such weakness in front of him. I wanted to be confident, especially with a man who looked like him.

I tried to sound confident.

 “I’m Y/n L/n, I’m Noel and Mirios niece.” I said, feigning any semblance of a steady voice.

“That’s funny cause last time I checked, Mirio didn’t have a niece.” He deadpanned.

  Damnit, I was hoping maybe throwing around titles would get him to get off my case a little. I just wanted to stand with Ochako and wait for the race to start, maybe have her tell me a little bit more about how all this works.

 “Well technically, no. I’m actually just Noel's niece but Mirio did tell me to call him uncle, so I’d assume he would be okay with me telling you that. Although this is my first race, so I’m not really sure how or what to..,” I trailed off when one of the guys in a lawn chair whipped around and stared directly at me, obviously overhearing my statement about this being my first race. “Oh no, I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

 Bakugou was standing in front of me, brows furrowed in annoyance and confusion. He was looking at me like I had sprouted a second head, and it was making me uncomfortable.

 “What?” I directed at him.

“For someone so damn shy, you ramble like an idiot.” He said flatly. At least he was no longer arguing about my identity.

  He turned his body slowly, completely losing interest in me and walking back to his car I somehow missed noticing at the front of the lined up cars.

“Oi. Who brought this Nav hoe over here? Someone get her away from the cars.” He yelled over his shoulder.

“Kaachan!” My head whipped to Deku, who stood from the ground, “Don’t talk to her like that, what if she’s actually Mirio’s niece? And you heard what she said. This is her first race.” He yelled back, the deep baritone intimidating, but leaving Bakugou unphased as he kept walking.

“Shut up you damn nerd.”

“Thank you Deku, but I can handle this.” I planted my hands on my hips. There were a lot of things I’d take from people, but degradation wasn’t one of them. My mom taught me that at least.

 “You can stomp around having a hissy fit like a child all you’d like Bakugou, but I was invited over here by Ochako and you don’t even know me. So don’t stand there and call me names like you do.” I was huffing in anger when I finished, but quickly calmed down. Immediately embarrassed by my outburst as I noticed every single one of the West side Riders were staring at me, jaws unhinged.

I was a little shaken when I noticed Bakugou had stopped walking midstep, hands clenched tightly at his sides.

Oh my, I think I’m in trouble.

 “Hey hey hey, everyone just calm down now. Y/n was it? Hi sweetie,” The yellow haired man from the lawn chair did an awkward walk run to place himself next to me. “I’m Denki Kaminari, hope this isn’t a bad time or anything, hah, but did hear you say…this is your first race?” He threw his arm over my shoulder, with a wicked smirk on his face.

Shit, I thought we were past that and that no one noticed.

“DAMMIT YOU DUNCE FACE.” Bakugou's loud yell brought me back to reality as the third degree was taken from me and placed on Denki.

    The other guy in the lawn chair let out a loud laugh, assuming this was the Shinsou Ochako was talking about, I pushed down a smirk when I put together that Denki must catch a lot of crap from Bakugou.

“What? Why does that matter?” I asked the man still leaning on me.

“Shut the hell up Denki, I swear to god.” Bakugou said, and Denki’s wicked smirk turned into a shit eating grin.

 Shinsou was full on laughing now, doubled over in fits of laughter at Bakugou’s expense.

“Because little flower, if you are who you say you are, that means you’ll be Bakugou’s Navigator tonight.” Denki’s eyes weren’t on me when he said it, they were on Bakugou. I was happy for it, because while the details didn’t make sense, the statement did. There was no way I wanted to be trapped in the car with an angry porcupine for however long it took to finish a race.

 “No she’s not.” Bakuhou’s gravelly voice strained out through his gritted teeth. He was facing us now, sharp features twisted up in anger and looking like he wanted to hit Denki.

  I looked at the others, Kiri was openly laughing now, Shinsou has been a mess of laughter since before the spat started, and Ochako and Deku had their faces turned away, mouths covered by hands, and chest heaving in silent giggles.

  “Yes she is, you’re the only available squad leader,” Denki stated, before sucking his teeth loudly and checking his nails. His eyes shot back to Bakugou. “That is, unless you want me to get Tenya on the phone and tell him he needs to come fulfill the duty as a squad leader. That’ll do just fine won’t it? Leave this adorable, defenseless flower in the hands of Tenya?”

  I didn’t know what Denki said in the second half of his rant, but it seemed serious enough that everyone, even Shinsou, stopped laughing. All eyes were turned to Bakugou.

   I thought for a second I saw his cold exterior drop and a look of panic flash across his widened eyes. But it was gone so fast I thought I imagined it.

  Everyone stood in tense silence for a second, while I wondered what was going on. It was starting to grate on my nerves how much I was actually left out of simply because I didn’t understand most of their language. It was my own fault, and I’d remember to pester Noel about it until she taught me a few words and phrases.

Bakugou’s shoulders visibly slumped out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at him, his head still held high but the look of reluctant defeat across painted his features.

 “Fine. She can come,” he paused, pointing a finger at me and holding my eyes. “I want you and your gear ready before this race is even finished. When the winner is announced go back to East wall and stay there until I come get you. I’m going to prep until the second round. Don’t bother me.” With his final annoyed statement, Bakugou opened the door of his sleek orange car, shooting me one last look of disdain, got in and left.

   Bending down to put my hands on my knees I finally let myself breath normally. Relieved I could have a moment away from Bakugou’s heavy personality.

 I felt a hand rub circles on my back before looking up at Ochako.

 “I’m sorry, I really should have warned you before I brought you over here. I didn’t think he’d be happy, but I really didn’t think he’d call you names.” She said, apologizing genuinely.

 “I honestly can’t believe he caved, I guess all you really gotta do is throw around the boss’s name and he backs off that attitude of his.” Denki piped up from behind Ochako, retreating back to his lawn chair.

 “I really wouldn’t push him too far next time Denki. Sure he relents for the boss, but he has limits. You know he doesn’t like having a Navigator.” Kirishima said, injecting himself. His tone sounded scolding and disappointed. I’d be lying if I said it almost made me want to try to cheer him up.

 “That’s enough.” Deku commanded.

 “Hey, it’s not my fault that bitch left him for-.”

 “DENKI. I said that’s enough,” Deku’s firm voice cut over Denki’s antagonizing one. “Kirishima, go check on him and make sure he's okay. Denki shut the hell up from now on.”

  Without a word Kirishima pocketed his phone and in one smooth motion got in his car. Within a second he was gone too, all that was left was Ochako and I, Deku and the two bumble heads in the lawn chair.

   I felt really bad. That could have gone way better than what it did, and now I have to try and Navigate for Bakugou. Jesus, how am I supposed to tell Noel and Mirio.

  “Izu, I’m gonna go help get Y/n ready and then we are going to go watch the start of the race. I have my phone if you need me.” She yelled in Deku’s general direction to which he replied with a flick of his wrist practically dismissing her. I caught the look of surprise on her face, and watched it melt into anger.

Lord have mercy on that man's soul for later.

  “Alright Y/n, lets go get your equipment, and I’ll give you a few pointers.” She smiled back at me, warming my soul and easing some of my anxiety.

 Maybe this wouldn’t be that bad.

—————————————————

  It definitely was that bad.

  Round one just ended and Mirio won, I guess people bet on these things, earning Mirio a lot of money. I remembered leaning over the edge of the hip high wall of the parking deck, looking down over the road trying to spot the obnoxious yellow vehicle through the maze of buildings and sidewalks.

    My breath caught as the previously mentioned car shot around the corner in a wide arc and straightened out only to move so fast I could hardly see them. The next thing I knew a yellow flare was being shot into the sky and Mirio was being announced the winner.

Which lead me to right now.

 Mirio had just backed into his parking spot, and Noel was cheering about how fast he went in the straight shot.

  The thought brought me back to Ochakos mini lesson, ‘A straight shot is a part of the track where there are no turns, not even any curves. Drivers can make up the time they lost trying to drift around curves because they can’t go as fast. Now I’m going to show you a little secret...’.

   I was trying to memorize it in my head when Noel caught my attention.

 “What’s that stuff for honey, we were only racing once tonight. I don’t need another set.” She said, her brow furrowed in confusion.

 “Well you see, I uhh- ImetagirlnamedOchakoandshewantedmetomeethersquadsoIdidandthenImetBakugouandIaccidentlyspilledaboutthisbeingmyfirstraceandnowIhavetoNavigatrforhim.” I was breathing heavy when I was done, and Noel planted her hands on her hips.

    “I can’t fucking believe this, I’m sorry you what?” She demanded.

 “All I’m saying is I see why you wanted me to say this wasn’t my first race. Now I have navigate for the angriest man at this stupid meet. Is there any way out of this?” I said while pleading with my eyes.

 “Mirio.” She shot over her shoulder.

  Said man, turned to look around and abruptly left the conversation he was having next to his car.

 “Yes baby?”

 “Tell him what you just told me.”

“Uhg. I accidentally may have let slip that this is my first race to the west side team. Now I have to Navigate for Bakugou.” I was getting tired of repeating myself, I wanted answers.

 “Well I suppose it could be worse. It could be Teny-.”

“Mirio!” Noel slapped his arm.

He sighed before starting.  “I’m sorry little chick, there isn’t anything I can do. You technically are a part of the East side Riders now as long as Noel and I are together. Even if you don’t race, all family members are a part of it. It’s tradition. New members are initiated by Navigating for a different side's squad leader. It’s meant to be that way so a third person party can tell if the person is worthy of joining.

     This may seem like fun and games, and most of these people are irrelevant. But every person here who is on a squad has to either be ready to drive or navigate at a moment's notice. Usually under more stressful circumstances, but we won’t get into that. The reason you have to ride with Bakugou is because he is the only squad leader available without a permanent Navigator. I have Noel, and Monoma has Kendo. The south side is out of the question.” He shrugged as he finished.

That was a lot to process. Does that mean I’ll be a part of a gang or something? Jesus. What did I get myself into. All I wanted to do was have a few drinks and go fast in a car and now look.

  My god I’m a train wreck, and my stomach was clenching with every passing second.

  The gong sounded, and the announcer's voice sounded off through the speakers again.

 “Gear up, round two starts in ten minutes!” It sounded like he was screaming, but I couldn’t really tell with blood rushing in my ears.

  Noel has the bridge of her nose pinched between her fingers, her foot tapping on the floor. When she finally huffed and looked at me, I made it a point to look at anything that wasn’t directly back into her piercing cat like eyes.

  “Look at me,” I finally relented, and snapped my sight directly back at hers. “If you get hurt in any way, psychically, emotionally, shit even if he hurts your feelings. I’ll kill him.”

 As if on cue, the rumble of a motor popped over the bump in the entrance and maneuvered it’s way around the sea of cars. I didn’t have to look over my shoulder to know it was a burnt orange sports car with a fuming blonde in the drivers seat as the tires came to a screeching halt behind me.

  “Get in.” Bakugou’s deep raspy English left no room for argument.

  Noel nodded after me before reaching out to wrap me in a hug. I returned it thankfully.

  “You’ll do great.” She whispered in my ear before releasing me.

   I counted to ten before turning around taking a few steps to Bakugou’s passenger door. I looked through the windshield at the headrest only to find it bare, and sighed in relief. I was putting things together in my head, and as far as I could tell, some stitching on the headrest indicated a person belongs there. Permanently. And if it’s not your name, it’s not you.

  Man this is the worst walk of shame I’ve ever taken, and it didn’t help that Bakugou kept his eyes on me the entire time.

   I finally pulled open the door, standing back when I remembered the car doors opened up and not out. I slid in, taking in the interior of the car. It was leather, like real leather. It felt warm and nice on the exposed skin of my back between my crop top and jeans. I could feel there was no cushion though, probably just leather stretched over hard plastic meant to keep the bucket seat stable at high speeds. The color scheme was hunter green and orange with neons under his dash, lighting up the floorboards.

   I didn’t know much about cars but I knew enough to know that this car probably cost a lot of money. Whether he built it or bought it I had no idea, but either way it was a fortune. The dash displayed a screen bigger than a computer, and when I looked behind me there was no back seat, just six nondescript silver tanks. All neatly stacked in racks with hoses coming out of the tops and disappearing into the floorboard.

  “Shut the damn door.” Bakugou snapped at me, pulling me out of my inspection.

  I jumped when he spoke but quickly regained composure and reached for the door handle.

  “Tch. Not like that.” He reached across me brushing his arm against my collarbone and pressed a button on the side of the dash. I turned my face to the side to try and hide the glowing red that creeped up my neck while the door started closing automatically. When the door finally closed my blush burned hotter as I got a face full of what the inside of his car smelled like.

Heavenly. A perfect mix of sweet and spicy. Sandalwood, and gasoline. And something sweet. Was that..

Burnt sugar?

   Whatever it was, the smell mixed together in my nose fogging my brain.

     Without moving out of the way for other people in case they needed to get through, he pressed his foot down on the third pedal beneath the dash and shook the shifter in the middle before reaching behind my seat, obviously trying to find something.

   I stifled a giggle unsuccessfully when I caught sight of his shift knob. It was short, sunk down further into the center console compared to Mirio’s which sat higher. I was giggling though, because the shift knob was a grenade.

 “Something funny?” Another short jab.

“No no, I was just admiring the shifter.”

“What, you don’t like it?”  

“No I do, I was just thinking that’s a very Bakugou thing to have.” I replied.

“And what the hell is that supposed to mean? I can’t fucking do this.” He growled out the last part in Japanese, thoroughly confusing me and shutting me up.

     Something for the second time tonight landed in my lap, the familiar straps indicating it was a seatbelt. Or, more accurately, a harness.

  “You have two minutes to attach that to the seat and put it on, after that we are going and you don’t want to be out of a seat belt for the exit.” The last part sounded more like a threat than anything else and it sparked my limbs into moving.

  He didn’t think I could do it, well I’d show him.

 But after a minute I realized the slots were different than the ones Mirio had, and instead of five points there were eight points of attachment. I fumbled to try and get them into the slots when I finally figured out how they went in. It wasn’t the most comfortable sitting arrangement known to man, sitting practically backwards and trying to fanangle the small silver pieces into their designated holes but I refused to ask the hotheaded blonde for help.

   Thinking about him caused my eyes to unconsciously shoot in his direction, he had a look of annoyance on his face and if you squinted hard enough you could almost see amusement.

 A sadist through and through. Gaining amusement out of my struggling.

     Finally I had the damn thing in place, and when I went to sit down back in the seat I heard a thump from the inside of the car on Bakugou’s side.

   Pulling the harness in place, and finally clicking the last buckle together I looked up to find Mirio leaning against the door and looking into Bakugou’s car.

  Bakugou kept his face and eyes straight, almost like he refused to make eye contact.

 “Are you all strapped in little chick?” Mirio had his signature smile while he addressed me with his new nickname. I actually like it, cute but at the same time platonic.

  “Yup.” I replied with a smile of my own, trying to ease his tension and my own with the false pretense.

  “Got all your equipment?” He asked, but this time his face was pointed in Bakugou’s direction. His eyes held a glare, but he kept his voice light as he spoke to me.

 “Yup look!” I reached down to the floor showing Mirio all my stuff. I was pretending at first, but this time around it was genuine.

 “Good. Have fun little chick. Don’t get hurt okay, your aunt will kill me.” He waved, and Bakugou revved his engine clearly ready to go.

  Bakugou was about to take off when just as he was about to put it in first gear to leave Mirio grabbed the steering wheel and leaned down, invading Bakugou’s personal space.

“If anything, and I really mean anything happens to her, I’ll string you to the side of the building and count the seconds till you stop breathing. You hear me?” Mirio’s voice changed when he changed languages, his tone was dark and menacing as he spat the words out.

   Bakugou revved the engine again, visibly clenching the grenade shifter harder.

“Loud and clear.” The Japanese words his only reply before he slammed the car in first gear and took off towards the exit.

—————————————————————

-.003 💥MASTERLIST💥 -.004

Tag list: @thatonegeekchick​  ☺️☺️

Word✌🏼-Squidlyskeet

#my hero academia #this took a lot longer than i thought it would #bnha au #mha #uhgggg #bnha fluff #bakugou x fem!reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki #tokyo drift #tokyo #bnha angst

[rounove]

Shyan Fan fic Recommendation

Anon I want to kiss you right now. I have been waiting for this question for years

Batch 1

*All | orphan_account

Ryan's got an itch only Shane can scratch.

*"Come over here and make me." | aldhafera 

“Shane, stop that this instant!” “Come over here and make me.” In which Ryan fears something followed them home and Shane just wants to give the (definitely non-existent) ghosts a show. 

Por Favor, Sweetheart |  carrieonfighting

Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late Alternatively, Ryan Bergara is Trying His Best Thanks

(This one’s so domestic I think I melted)

the choices we make |  exul

Shane and Ryan find themselves in a world where much is the same, yet everything is different. An apartment that's theirs, but not theirs. Photos of them that were never taken. And most importantly a child, who's somehow theirs, yet they've never seen her before. or Shane and Ryan wake up in a world where they're married and have a baby. 

and then there were two (idiots) |  sessrumnir

Shane kisses Ryan by accident one day. A week later they are still trying to process what happened. 

*Body Farming |  shiphitsthefan

Failed suppressants and a surprise heat: the worst of cliches, and here Ryan stands, living the trope on location with the alpha he’s hopelessly in love with. Even worse, they’re spending the night in the famous Bell Witch Cave, completely alone and with no way to contact the outside world.

Ryan knows he can survive and keep his preheat a secret, as long as Shane will stop being so protective and concerned. After all, it’s not like Shane wants to bond with him.

Right?

*breathe out so i can breathe you in |  trxshmxuth

They've been tiptoeing around each other for months now, walking on ice so thin that Ryan can practically see the sexual tension swirling and raging underneath. Ryan's almost afraid that when the ice finally cracks, he's not going to be able to resurface again.On their next Unsolved investigation, the ice breaks.

eventually, the darkness stares back |  EAST (WESTAGE)

Shane realizes he likes Ryan exactly the way he is: alive. 

Four Down, One to Go |  sunshinewinchesters

Ryan is sick and Shane is having a really shitty week. 

*Hold Your Breath, It Gets Better |  beethechange

Ryan stops short in the doorway of his bedroom, banging his shoulder against the doorframe in his haste, because he’s too late. Shane’s kneeling in front of the bottom drawer of his bedside table, peering down at the contents, hand frozen in a hover like he’d been about to reach in. His face is a blank mask.

“Ah. I keep the batteries in the top drawer. Not. Not the bottom one.”

“Yes,” Shane says, cocking his head to the left in puzzlement, and then he pauses for a fraction of a second too long as he considers his words. “I can see that the batteries are not in the bottom drawer.”

*How Deep (Is Your Love) |  touchinghearts

The last thing Shane expects when he exits the bathroom is for his boyfriend to appear out of fucking nowhere, pin him against the wall, and swallow his cock down in the open hallway of a hotel. 

It's a love/hate kind of thing. |  heyghouls

Shane is an executive producer at BuzzFeed and Ryan is his intern. It's not love at first sight for the boys, but will they finally see eye to eye when they realize they have more in common than they thought? Shane is an introvert who finds it hard to let people in, and Ryan is a cute loving boy who just wants to figure the guy out. 

Just Out of Reach |  formosus_iniquis  

A variation on the "I asked for your help getting a book off the top shelf and and you laughed at my taste and called me a nerd so I shoved you into a table of nonfiction best-sellers and that’s how we both got banned from the quirky community bookstore" prompt 

keep you like an oath |  spoopyy

"I'm in love with you," Ryan says, desperate."No, you're in love with the views."

kiss me like you mean it |  rocketshiptospace

“Hi,” Tall man says, taking in the sight in front of him. “I’m sorry, I heard banging and yelling and I just, are you okay?”

“No. Yes. Maybe,” Ryan says, slowly standing back up on two legs again. “My door won’t open.” He eventually ads, when him and Tall man have just stared at each other for a few seconds.

“That’s unfortunate,” Tall man says, smiling at him. He has a really nice smile. “But it happens. It’s an old building, you know. Doors get stuck sometime. Here, let me try,” He steps past Ryan, and places his hand on the door handle. The door swings open like it’s nothing.

or, Ryan's apartment building plays matchmaker.

*Muscles Better and Nerves More |  beethechange

A certain meddling Voodoo Queen of New Orleans thinks Ryan and Shane need some new perspective on life. After an inadvisable ritual deposits Ryan in Shane’s body, and Shane in Ryan’s, the ghoulboys pursue some soul-searching and self-discovery to put things right. Sometimes in a sexy way. 

the calm before crescendo |  abovetheruins

Alternate title: 5 times Shane Madej was flustered by Ryan Bergara, and 1 time he finally did something about it. 

*The Desk Fic |  SincerelyLeah

Shane was having a shitty Monday morning and it was all because of one person, Ryan Bergara. But, by now he should know that endless teasing gets Shane more than riled up. 

Things That Go Bump in the Night (and 7 till 12 at weekends) |   HoopyFrood

Shane works at a Haunted House. Ryan is Ryan. Things go about as well as you'd imagine. 

Tranquility Base |  sessrumnir

After their successful Sims series, Kelsey has a different video proposal for the boys. This time, they're testing how fast gossip travels in the office. But Ryan doesn't expect their relationship to change so fast because of it. 

*wasted on you |  cursingcursive (queenradi)

there's a reason shane loves when ryan wears his clothes. 

Weird |  Helsabot

One night, the stack of pillows between them becomes one stack too many. “Let me— let me hit you with a thought. A theory.” “A postulation?” “Sure. Let me postulate at you.” “Postulate away, baby.”

You Make Me Glow |  sohapppily

Whenever they were on their ghoul excursions, Shane always had a snarky comment on the tip of his tongue and a twisted smirk to shoot at Ryan’s terror. He was mostly the same way in their unrecorded life, but they played up the banter for the sake of The Boys. Although it was a welcome respite for Ryan, seeing Shane in these settings with nothing but sleep on his features never failed to be a bit jarring.

Ryan couldn’t look away.

lightning in a bottle |  LexTheMoose

Love is slow-dancing on the balcony of a house party at 11 PM. 

meet me halfway |  poetdameron

In a world where everything changed over the night, Ryan and Shane's minds connect miles away, making Shane the man of Ryan's dreams. Literally. 

Batch 2

*And they were roommates (oh my god they were roommates) |  Squeakyshroom

All my notes said on this one was “this is pure sex jesus”

2:10 to Wellton |  quackers

and i'm puffing my chest, getting red in the face |  pissedofsandwich

Bed-warm Hands and the Ghost of Elvis |   MiraclesofPaul

*BFFS Get Married For A Week - Ryan and Shane |  aspookycryptidsock

distorted truths |  hwsinbs

*Everything's Weird and We're Always in Danger |   beethechange

hammer me to the cross of my despair |   heartchains

I Think the Ghost Likes You |   cactsu

*I’ve Kissed You Before, but I Didn’t Do It Right (Can I Try Again) |   beethechange

if i should fall |  abovetheruins

*Just The Facts |   millyvanilly (miloisnothere)

*Out of Control with Ryan |  beethechange

*Pushing All Your Buttons |  beethechange

satisfaction brought it back |  ElasticElla

Short Stack |  Anonymous

*Thank you, Satan |  Squeakyshroom

The Chain |  Lafayette1777

Rough water |  heyghouls

Batch 3

The Thrilling Gardner Museum Heist |  orphan_account

One in Five Billion |  punk_rock_yuppie

a short history of almost something |  cooliohoolio

*A Suspicion of Feelings |  beethechange

I Will Be the Sun, I Will Wake You Up |  sohapppily

*ready if it happens with you |  sarcasticfishes

*The Denial Twist |  beethechange

The Bizarre Road Trip Of A Missing Family |  icantwritegood

Beautiful Crime |  orphan_account

The Odd Death of Michelle Von Emster |  icantwritegood

won't you ride on my fast machine? |  ElasticElla 

Batch 4

*Breathe |  quackers

*The Hunger |  poetdameron

Black Sun |  quackers

contrapposto |  spoopyy

(Let me tell you that I never liked major character death but I accidentally read this one without reading the warning and YOO I am a fan of major character death now. This was beautifully written!)

darling it's a faded notion |  varnes

(This was the very first shyan fic I’ve read and still one of the best one’s)

*Full-Court Press |  beethechange

(I remember this one oh my god this has jersey kink in it and I didn’t even know what it means until I read this and it awaken something in me. This writer I swear to god. They could write Ryan and Shane fucking in a hot dog costume on top of the mountains and I’d still be into it.)

*Ryan Number One |  quackers

(THIS has everything I want and didn’t know I needed. This is hot this is sexy. Five star porn right here.)

theft by finding |  varnes 

*Wicked Game |  quackers

(This is my favorite. This ruined me in so many ways and I got so affected and shaken up that I can’t draw anything for months. I have been to so many fandoms and read hundreds of fics but nothing has fucked me up like this. I have to switch to a different fandom because I am having the longest art block ever because I keep thinking about this fic. I am not exaggerating I swear if you see my previous posts there’s quite a gap in my shyan art. And I am saying this in the highest of compliment, this fic changed my life.)

*Translucent |  poetdameron 

*Begin the Begin, Over and Over |  beethechange 

*Let the Sunshine Burn Your Eyes |  YogurtTime 

*Look How Long They Are |  drunkkenobi

*The Disturbing Mystery of the Jamison Family |  icantwritegood

(This one’s fun! I fucking love this one! Lot’s of angry sex. The banter! The banter holy shit hmm!! I don’t want to spoil anymore. It’s dark but it’s funny it’s also hot and sad. This writer loooves angst.)

*Collide |  needywitch 

* - has porn

This got way longer than I thought and I couldn’t even put the summary in some of them but all of these are worth the read. This fandom has so much talented writers that my small monkey brain went fucking bananas on the list. 

#rousponse #shyan fic rec #Anon must be expecting 5-10 fics because it's such a light-hearted ask

[moth-and-raven]

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

They left his new turban behind. It’s just coiled there on the dusty stone floor, spattered with blood darker than the red fabric. I pick it up in a trance, rubbing the soft cloth between my fingers. Someone must’ve torn it off of him as they paraded his body out of the Market.

This can’t be happening.

But it is.

I try hard to tamp down my panic, turning away from the entrance and pushing back through the slowly-dispersing crowd. All around me, people mutter their theories and suspicions. It doesn’t help as much as I hoped it would to hear their anger on Julian’s behalf; no one stopped the guards, they just watched, and let them take him.

Thank god Skylar is so tall. I see him through a gap in the milling bodies. Just the sight of someone who might be able to help brings a lump to my throat. I fight it back for the moment, but I know I’ll lose out soon.

“Skylar,” I gasp, half-choked from my quick pace and the threat of tears.

“Reyja?” He reaches out to steady me, concern already etched across his kind face.

“They— they t-took him—”

I have to hold it together. I have to. I have to help him. I have to get my Julian back. It can’t end like this. It can’t —

Skylar pulls me into a strong embrace and I break, sobbing against his chest. I don’t have time to be crying like a child, but it won’t stop. His soft stomach is too welcoming, his arms around my back too gentle. He lets me weep there in the middle of the Red Market, shielding me from curious onlookers until I can breathe again.

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble when my voice returns, thick with tears still unshed. We just met and I’ve already stained his shirt.

“He means a lot to you.”

“He means everything to me.”

“Hm.” He nods. “Well, let me tell you, Ilya’s gotten out of worse scrapes than this.”

“But if they took him to the palace…”

“I’m sure they did.”

My heart drops. He wasn’t supposed to agree with me.

“But he’s even gotten out of there before,” Skylar continues. “With help.”

With help… “We need to— I need to find him.”

“Let’s go, then.”

I shake my head, already awash in the guilt that always comes after letting someone see me at my worst. “You don’t have to come with me. I’m sorry, I just panicked and came right back to you, when you were—”

“He’s my friend, too.”

Julian has so many people looking out for him. I don’t think he knows what an effect he has. He’s not alone. We’re not alone.

I’m not alone.

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Skylar says with a smile. He nods towards the exit. "Lead the way."

I wipe my eyes almost furtively on Julian’s turban, then drape it over my shoulders like a scarf. I'll get the damn thing back to him if it's the last thing I ever do. The thought almost makes me laugh: he can't even tell what color it is, and wore it for less than an hour. And it didn't work in the end, since it was meant to disguise him. But it's still his. I bought it for him.

We're out of the Market and halfway to the palace before I realize I don't really know where I'm going. I've never been to the dungeons, if that's where they took him, and my erstwhile guide— Oh no.

Skylar notices my hesitation and stops beside me. "What’s up?"

"Portia, Julian’s sister. I need to tell her."

"Little Pasha?"

"You know her too?"

"Only from Ilya’s stories. Although…"

"What?"

Skylar cocks his head, staring at something I can't see. "She's got the Devorak nose and hair?"

"Yes?"

He smiles to himself. I've just opened my mouth to ask why when my name, in Portia's strident voice, cuts across the rosy Heart District street.

“At least someone’s safe,” she says angrily, twisting her hair around one hand as she approaches. She’s crying, but I don’t think she even notices. “I knew this would happen, I just knew it! I never should’ve agreed to—”

Apparently protectiveness runs in the family too. “It isn’t your fault—” I begin, but she cuts me off.

“I fucking know that! I know that, but… but what if…”

“Did you see him? Is he…?” I can’t bring myself to ask if the blow he took was worse than I thought.

Her lower lip trembles. “I don’t know,” she admits softly. “They were heading towards the dungeons, I think. A bunch of them. I saw Vulgora, and Valdemar.”

I swallow hard. Valdemar. Whatever Julian had been about to say before the guards sprang their trap had to do with them.

“I left Balam behind to watch while I came looking for you,” Portia continues, stifling her tears with an enormous breath. “But she can’t… I don’t want her to do something stupid before we get back.”

“We were on our way,” I tell her, gesturing at Skylar.

“You found him, then?”

Skylar himself laughs. “I’d like the full story at some point, how Ilya got here and knew where I’d be. But not now, obviously. I can wait a little longer.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you up to speed,” Portia says. “The real version, not whatever my idiot brother might’ve suggested. Let’s go.”

I let her spin his tale while we walk, trying not to compare this to the last time I was approaching the palace with Portia and a tall man. It seems so long ago now, though it’s been only a few days.

I should’ve told him then. I should’ve said aloud what I’ve been thinking all along. He deserves to know that I love him. I’ve known the whole time and kept it to myself, because how could I possibly love a man I met a week ago? How can he already matter so much to me that I would lie and sneak around and break the law for him? The way his name sits on my tongue, the memory of his skin against mine and the sound of his laugh… I love him. More than I’ve ever loved another person, like all the love I couldn’t express the last twenty-five years has been saved up just for him. I stifle a desperate sob with the back of my hand; I don’t want to talk about this, not with Skylar and Portia. As much as I like and appreciate them, it isn’t theirs to see yet.

We reach the palace at sunset. Exhaustion sucks at my feet as I climb the last set of stairs. It’s been a long day, one of the longest I can remember. I just want my Julian, to hold him and kiss him, to tell him what I need him to hear.

It’s as though nothing happened. The gatehouse guards make Skylar give his name, but they don’t even frisk him for weapons or ask what he’s doing here. Maybe it’s because he’s with us, or maybe they were here when he was, three years ago. I suppose it doesn’t matter; we’re across the bridge, through the doors, and turning into a corridor I haven’t been down yet before they can change their minds.

A blur of color hurtles out of a side room halfway down the hall, fast as quicksilver, stopping Portia as we pass. The newcomer speaks so quickly, through an accent I don’t think I’ve ever heard before, that I catch only a few words.

“— as you thought, the old dungeons — sent for Vlastomil — tried to go down myself, but—”

Portia cuts in. “You said you wouldn’t!”

She shrugs, rattling the beads of her magenta bracelet as she throws up her hands. “He’s in trouble, no?”

Portia shakes her head, and, to my surprise, wraps her arms around her waist and kisses her cheek. “Please don’t do this to me, Balei. One person I love is already in hot shit. I couldn’t stand it if you were, too.”

Oh. Oh.

“Um, this is Balam,” Portia says, catching sight of the blush rising to my cheeks as she turns back. “We’re, uh… yeah. Sorry I couldn’t introduce you sooner. She’s been in Prakra for a few months, just got back last night.”

My heart clenches, knowing that Portia had chosen to spend her time chasing ghosts and opening her home to me and Julian instead of being with her lover. And I can’t stifle the wave of guilt that quickly follows: I don’t think that I, in her position, would’ve done the same. If I had to choose between people who asked for my help and spending time with Julian, especially after he’d been gone… well, I can hate myself for being so selfish later.

“You’re Reyja,” Balam says to me. Without waiting for me to confirm or deny, she pushes on. “Portia’s told me all about you, and Julian, and as I said, I tried to follow the courtiers to the dungeons to see if he was alright, but they got too far ahead of me, which I suppose is for the best, considering how armed they were, but I think—”

When does she breathe?

“— I can ask Yaz to let us in, since they—”

“Yaz” couldn't possibly be Yazakh, Nadia’s bodyguard, could it? I can’t imagine anyone being on good enough terms with them to call them by a nickname.

“— and besides, I’ve been away from them, too.” Balam smiles wistfully. “East Prakra will always be my home, but to be away from you, from all of you—” She pauses to tuck one of Portia’s long red curls behind her ear. “—was more difficult than I imagined.”

Skylar, who had been watching, amused, from the sidelines, perks himself up. “East Prakra?” he asks, following the question with a raindrop-quick series of words in a language I can only assume is, indeed, East Prakran.

Balam lights up like the sun and responds. They exchange another few sentences then switch back to Vesuvian.

“I like you,” she says. I’m surprised at her straightforwardness, even if Skylar doesn’t seem to be.

“I don’t know much more than that,” he admits. “I haven’t had the chance to speak it since I left.”

Balam chuckles.

“I’m Skylar, by the way.”

“He’s an old friend of Ilya’s,” Portia adds.

“Ah. Of course I want to hear all about your time in East Prakra, but…” Balam trails off.

But Julian’s still in danger.

“Yaz will be in the gardens at this time of day. I’ll be right back.”

She’s gone before any of the rest of us can speak, racing down the hall with her colorful skirts flaring and the jingle of her many bangles floating back even as she turns the corner and disappears.

“I’ve missed her so much,” Portia says with an affectionate sigh.

I cast around for something to ask, something to distract me from the new rise of fear in my throat. Every second we delay means another chance Julian might— I don’t even want to think about it. “How did you meet?”

“She works here too, in the library.”

“Oh.” It was probably for the best that she’s been gone, then, considering what’s happened in that library the last few days.

Portia smirks at me. “Don’t worry, it’s all been cleaned up. And anyway, she’s usually too focused on her work to notice if something… else… is going on.”

“What does she do, exactly?”

“Research. Writing. She’s a magician, too.” Portia draws herself up to her full height, still several inches shorter than I am, and beams with pride. “She’s compiling a history of magic, actually. She works so hard, I know it’s going to be amazing when she’s done.”

Despite the situation, my interest is piqued. I’d love to read something like that myself. Skylar, too, nods, green eyes already distant with the thought of what he might learn. I wonder if he had time to buy the book he was examining when Julian and I found him.

“Oh, and by the way, always check which bracelet she’s wearing. If it’s silver, use ‘he’ instead.”

It isn’t long before Balam returns, her voice musical and flowing like water. She’s clinging to Yazakh’s elbow; for the first time since I came to the palace, I see them smile. It falls from their face when the two of them stop in front of us.

Yazakh’s stern golden gaze sweeps over us. They’re even taller than Julian, though not quite Skylar’s height. “You are the magician,” they say to me.

The magician Nadia hired to bring Julian to justice. There’s no question in their eyes or their smooth, deep voice, but I hear it anyway. Why would I, as that magician, want to see him now?

Julian said our relationship would come to light sooner or later. This is the worst possible time, but I don’t have it in me to lie anymore. I simply nod, and Yazakh mirrors me. I’m sure I catch a glimpse of understanding before they turn away.

“Follow me.”

The path to the dungeons is surprisingly straightforward, decorated much like the rest of the palace in cream and silk and luxury. Behind me I hear Portia and Balam whispering to each other, but it takes most of my concentration to stay calm, hold back my tears, and keep my steps steady.

The air changes, turning colder despite the summer evening outside, as we pass into a barracks crowded with off-duty guards. All of them snap to attention when they recognize Yazakh, but they push on, unlocking a heavily-barred door at the end of the room to reveal a darkened staircase. I can feel my heartbeat in my throat, behind my eyes, reaching out into the darkness in search of Julian’s. He’s down there, I know. I can only hope he’s alone.

Before we descend, Yazakh turns to another guard. “When did they leave?” they ask.

The guard blinks. “About ten minutes ago, Captain,” she responds.

“All of them?”

“Yes. And, er…”

They level their stare at her.

“We heard screams.”

A bone-deep chill washes through me. I can’t take it. I have to see him.

Though I’m sure they could’ve stopped me if they wanted to, Yazakh lets me rush around them. I reach the bottom of the staircase before the others have even started down it.

I’m shaking when I call light to my palm, illuminating the gray-black stone of the palace’s dungeon. Wrought-iron bars enclose narrow cells, some cracking with rust and disuse. For a terrible moment, I don’t see anything.

And then a flash of red catches my eye.

Julian is manacled to the wall, slumped forward over his knees with his arms spread. His shirt is in tatters, hanging from his broad shoulders; what remains is smeared with dirt and blood. I can barely see the rise and fall of his ribs, the only other movement being the steady drip of blood from his nose. As I stare, stunned to paralysis, he coughs, sending a spatter of blood droplets against the opposite wall.

“No…” I breathe. What have they done to him?

He hears me, but doesn’t recognize my voice.

“Back already?” he growls. “For more fun, I hope. I told you I could take it.”

The others, minus Yazakh, pause on the stairs behind me. Portia draws an unsteady breath.

“Ha, and you brought friends.” He spits a mouthful of blood. “Well, I’ve never backed down from a challenge and I’m not about to start n—”

At last, he looks up. His patch is gone, replaced by a storm-dark bruise that, even as I watch, is shrinking, evidence of the abuse of his captors erased by the magical mark on his throat. Our eyes meet across the room, through the door of his cell.

I can’t hold back the tears anymore.

"Reyja!" He thrashes against his chains, swearing when it results in nothing but a rattle. “No, they weren’t supposed to—!”

I stumble to the bars. I can’t reach him. “Julian…”

“I didn’t tell them, I swear! I would never—”

“I believe you, I just—”

Someone touches my shoulder. I think I hear Portia bury a sob in Balam’s neck and Skylar hiss through his teeth.

“You need to get out of here, darling,” Julian says, words racing like wildfire. “Please, I can’t bear to see—”

“I’m not leaving.”

“You have to!” He’s getting fierce now.

“No! Not without you!”

The door opens. I didn’t do that. But a key rasps against the iron and I fling myself into the cell as soon as the bars swing away, dropping to my knees at Julian’s side. He squirms again, trying desperately to break free though he must know it’s impossible by now. Tears blur my vision as I scrape uselessly at one of his manacles.

“Reyja—”

I can only answer with a sob, fed by my frustration. What kind of magician am I, that I can’t even break a lock? No, wait— The spell comes unbidden to my hand, after I draw another stuttering breath. I snap the cold iron at its seams, both wrists at once.

“Please, my dearest,” Julian tries again, even as his voice cracks from the weight of his own tears. “They’ll come back…”

Heedless of the blood, I press into his side. He can’t fight the desire any more than I can and folds over me, crying into the notch of my shoulder, still begging me to go even as he holds me closer.

I don’t know how much time passes before I come back to myself. We’re alone; our friends must have decided we needed this moment. Somehow, I retained enough awareness to keep the light in my hand glowing. I set it overhead so I can wrap my arms around Julian’s neck and hug him to my chest.

He winces. I recoil; the man was just tortured, I shouldn’t be causing more damage. But he doesn’t let me retreat from his embrace.

“They didn’t get you, did they?” I can barely hear him, though we’re intertwined.

“No. Skylar, and Portia, and Balam—”

He shudders. “If they find out—”

“Yazakh’s on our side.”

“The Countess’s bodyguard?”

“They let us in.”

“Perhaps they haven’t gotten everyone, then.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, darling…” Julian sighs. “My goose is cooked.”

“What? But you didn’t do it!” He’s only in danger because of Lucio’s murder charge, and we have proof that he’s innocent. Surely—

“Didn’t I?”

I rear back to stare at him, incredulous enough to stop my tears at last. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course you didn’t. Skylar said so, and so did Lucio himself!”

“To be fair, what he said was that I didn’t help him.”

“That’s not the same thing!”

“It won’t matter.”

I shake my head. “Nadia said you’ll get a trial.”

He laughs harshly. “In front of whom? Praetor Vlastomil? I heard Vulgora send one of their soldiers off for him. He’ll listen to the loudest voice in his ear, and wouldn’t dare go against what Valdemar wanted.”

“Why does it matter what Valdemar wants? They’re not in charge.”

“I’m not so sure of that. Nadia was gone for a long time, you know. The people who, erm, who brought me here, they're no loyal Vesuvians.”

“You think Valdemar consolidated power while Nadia was in Prakra?”

“They’re perfectly capable of it.” He gestures at his plagued eye. “I, ah, I still can’t remember everything, but what Skylar said… They were planning something, back then. Three years ago. Something I got in the way of. Something they never lost the drive to complete, it seems.”

I didn’t sign up for political intrigue. But I did sign up to solve this mystery, and if that’s where the next clue leads… “So what now?”

“Erm.”

I don’t like the way he said that. “What?” I repeat, narrowing my eyes.

“Well, ah.”

“Julian, please, just tell me.”

He lets out a long breath and tips his head back to look into my eyes. “Do you remember the night we spent at Mazelinka’s?”

“Of course I remember. It was, like, days ago.”

“I woke you up with my nightmares, but I couldn’t remember them.”

“Yeah?”

“What, ah, what Skylar said. I had been ranting about a bird. A raven-headed man with his wings bound. And I, erm. There’s a… there’s a book. I— I stole it. From Asra.”

Asra. Julian had been searching for my former master when we first met.

“I saw it again when we were in the library, but I couldn’t remember until… The raven-headed man is in it, along with some, ah, other things.” He pauses, scanning my face in the silvery light of my magic, and heaves another heavy sigh before pushing on. “Tarot things.”

Tarot? Like, my kind of tarot? What could he possibly— no.

“The raven-man is the Hanged Man,” Julian says quietly. “I think I contacted him once, long ago. The book says us non-magic folks can only do that through dreams, or… or…”

People without magical abilities rarely encounter the Arcana. They have no use for each other, and most of the time can’t communicate anyway. But every so often, in the depths of a dream or when the fabric between worlds thins, preparing for a departed consciousness to cross over…

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I can’t help the volume of my outburst. He really can’t be serious.

“I have to speak to him, Reyja! I have to! I feel it in my heart, my soul, the same way I— well, the same way I knew we would have something special. But dreams turn into nightmares every time. Something’s not working with that route. This is all I have left.”

New tears spring to my eyes, but these are fueled by anger. How dare he— “You want to get hanged?”

“Of course not!” He pulls me closer at the very idea. “But the, the mark… it won’t let me do it myself.”

His words fall heavily against the stone walls around us. He would only know that if… “You—?”

“Those three years were very long, my darling. Very long and very dark, at times.”

“You tried to—?”

“Just once, at my lowest.”

I can almost feel my heart break. “Julian…”

“I’m so sorry. I just couldn’t see another—”

I cut him off, hugging him tight, like if only I squeeze hard enough, I can erase that pain. I wish I didn’t understand it, but it’s all too familiar. I never got low enough to try, but the thought lingered through so many of my days. Every time the hopelessness, the loneliness, welled up like blood in a wound, I imagined how much simpler it would be to… My tears are soaking into what’s left of his shirt, and from the trembling of his body against mine, I can tell that Julian’s crying too. I give in and let it come, wondering distantly how much more I can cry today.

But there has to be another way. I won’t let him do this. I can’t let him do this. And we aren’t alone, not anymore.

“Have you talked to Asra?” I ask thickly, after I’ve hiccuped to silence again.

“About what, darling?”

“The Hanged Man. How to contact him in a way that doesn’t involve dying.”

“Erm. Well, of course I was looking for him. But I, ah, I didn’t have much to go off of, you understand. And when I found you instead… No, I haven’t.”

“Can we at least try that?”

“If you think he would listen.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Erm… no reason.”

"Alright then.” I wipe my cheek with the back of my hand, then clear away some of his tears too. He still looks horrible, but we can't do anything about that at the moment. And in any case, there’s something a little more pressing to take care of first. “Let’s go.”

“You know where Asra is?”

“Not yet, but we’re not looking for him right now.”

“What? Why not?”

I stand up and offer him my hand. “We need to talk to Nadia.”

—————

Skylar belongs to @ollifree​.

Balam belongs to @atypicalacademic​.

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#cw suicidal thoughts #moth & raven #the arcana #the arcana fanfic #julian devorak #reyja north

[thedirtpreferences]

PREFERENCE #18 - LINGERIE (REQUESTED)

Mick: He would say absolutely nothing, though his pupils would give him away seeing as they would dilate making his eyes black with lust. By no means was Mick a shy man, for Christ sake he got up in front of thousands of people to perform everyday of his life. What he was, however, was respectful. He never wanted to make you feel like he was objectifying you or treating you like you were a tasteless piece of meat. Furthermore, he made a very good point at always making sure you knew you were beautiful and gorgeous, not just sexy and hot. But right now, he was fighting for the right words to describe without being crude. “You’re being awfully quiet, Mickey. Do you not like the color?” Your words would be dripping with sex appeal, your face sultry and feigned with innocence as he gawked at you in horror. You looked like that and yet you were somehow afraid that he didn’t like the color? Surely you were joking. “The color, er, the color is just fine.” He would mumble trying his best to maintain eye contact with you as you pulled down your hair, shaking it so fell sensually over your shoulders. He nearly lost his bearings when you bit your lip and batted your eyes at him. “Just fine?” Pouting you walked over to his spot on the couch, pushing his chest so he was pressed firmly against it. “Mhm.” Mick mused, stifling his moan as you straddled him, your breasts now eye level with his face. “For some reason, I was under the impression that red was your favorite color on me. Perhaps, I’ve been mistaken. Oh, well.” Pretending to leave, you let out a squeak when Mick grabbed your wrists pulling you back down onto his lap forcefully. “So, you do like the red?” You would let out a breathless laugh, gasping as he flipped you over onto your back, hovering over you with a touch as light as a feather. Typical Mick; always so gentle. “I love the red. You look beautiful,” He would whisper at your ear, nipping it softly. “Beautiful? C’mon Mick, you can do better than that.” You pleaded, reaching your hand on his lower thigh, dangerously close to his progressively hardening member. “Would you like me to completely degrade you then?” Mick spoke with a perplexed look on his face, catching your hand as he brought it against his heaving chest. “Please.” You begged causing him to let out a groan as he nipped down your neck, his hands tangled tightly around your ragged locks of hair. “You have no idea what you just got yourself into,” He would laugh causing you to sigh in relief. You had finally awakened the inner freak in Mick and you couldn’t be happier.

Tommy: “C’mon, babe. You know the rules, you lost the bet.” Tommy would giggle knocking relentlessly on the bathroom door you had locked yourself in. A week ago, you had compromised with him: if he made it one week sober and well behaved, you would do anything he wanted for an entire day. In your head, you had expected making him grilled cheese sandwiches and letting him spend money on idle things while giving him frequent back rubs. Little did you know that the little devil was a secretly sex deprived animal. Furthermore, the moment he had showed up with the black lingerie set you had nearly choked on the water you were swallowing out of both fear and confusion. “I’m embarrassed.” You would groan examining yourself in the mirror with distaste. Everything about this screamed confident and lord knows you were anything but despite the endless hours of Tommy trying to plead with you. “You’ve got five seconds before I’m kicking that fucking door down,” Tommy threatened causing you to let out a sigh in defeat. You wouldn’t put it past him after all to do such a thing.

“5...4...-“

“I’m coming you idiot,”

“Not yet, you aren’t. Soon though..soon.”

Letting out a disgusted scoff, you would roll your eyes before finally unlocking the door and sauntering out with your head hung low. “Holy fuck.” Tommy would utter, instantly dropping to his knees pressing his head against your thigh. “Baby, if I stay sober for the rest of my life do you promise to wear this everyday for me? Oh, the things I’m gonna have to do to you tonight...” Pressing kisses to your inner thighs, his large hands gripping you tightly you would try to stifle the moan that bubbled to your lips, the lack of confidence slowly starting to dissipate with each gentle kiss. “Do you really like it?” You would ask genuinely curious, biting your lip sheepishly. “Oh, Y/N. Oh, baby. This is the best day of my fucking life.” Lifting you up so that you were hoisted over his shoulder, you would let out a loud squeal as he slammed you on the bed. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’m about to fuck you for this whole 24 hours. You did promise after all,” His voice would be husky, a small groan slipping past his lips when you lifted you knee to press ever so slightly against his hard member. What an affect you had on him already? If you would have known this would have got him to behave by some lingerie and sex you would’ve volunteered a long time ago. “Your wish is my command, sir.”

Vince: You would clear your throat a couple of times, recieving no reaction from him whatsoever as he wrote in his office. Letting out a frustrated sigh, you would finally say something a little less on the romantic side but bold enough to get his attention. “Hey, idiot. Do you want to bang me or not? Kinda going out on a limb here.” His head would snap up the moment he heard ‘bang’. Oggling you for a second, Vince would surprise you by dropping his pen, dipping his head back, and letting out a boisterous, hysterical bellow. “Hey, shut up. I spent a lot of money on this,” You woud pout, crossing your arms across your chest and stamping your foot. “You look so fucking sexy, I just, I wasn’t expecting it. It’s so out of character.” Wiping the forming tears from his eyes, Vince would beckon you over with an outstretched hand, pushing himself from the desk in his rolling office chair. “Get over here, you little minx.” He would chuckle, wrapping his arms around you as you awkwardly straddled his body. “Mind telling me what this is about?” He would inquire, kissing your collarbone with vehemence. “I...Okay. I see the kind of girls that throw themselves at you. I’ve seen the girls in your videos. I didn’t know if you preferred this over, well, how I usually look is all.” It was if a light switch flipped in his head as he tilted his head back and let out a small ‘oh’. How could you think that? Had he seriously let you down that much as a boyfriend? “You’re absolutely crazy. You know why we choose to feature those girls? For the aesthetic. You know why our fans look the way they do? Because they want our attention. You, however, already have my attention. I love the way you dress, the way you look, the way you are. So, please, Y/N, don’t change yourself for that. Because I love you for who you are, not what your clothes say about you.” You cheeks would turn bright red as you looked down in sheer embarrassment. To say the least you were relieved, it had taken you twenty minutes to learn how to get it on anyways plus it was so extremely uncomfortable you could cry just from that. “Plus, I’d much rather see you with nothing on.” He would purr in your ear as his hands reached around to unclasp the lacy bra. “You did that far too easily,” You would say accusingly, your eyes narrowing as he pressed kisses down your chest. “Wait till you see what comes next,”

Nikki: For once, Nikki was speechless. Out of all the women he had been with, all the horrible, naughty things he had done, he had never felt so hot and bothered in his life. For, there stood his sweet, unassuming girlfriend clad in nothing but leather and lace, her body displayed in a way he had never seen it look before. He was in awe, but more importantly he was overwhelmed with lust. Furthermore, it took everything in his willpower not to tear each article of clothing off with his teeth as he gazed at her. She was irristable, practically begging to have his hands on every inch of her body. Was he actually salivating? “Happy Birthday, baby. You can open your gift now.” Oh, yeah. He had forgotten about the small box sitting in his lap until you had reminded him that it was there. By that point, however, he could have cared less about some meager gift even if it did come from you. You were the only thing that consumed his brain in this particular moment in time. Especially looking like that. Reaching toward you instinctively, you slapped his hand hard enough to make it sting. “No touching till you open that. Trust me. You’re gonna wanna see that before we begin,” Nikki felt like a child who was being told to eat their vegtables before dessert, but still he obliged because god damn he couldn’t wait to get his hands on you even if you were being bossy. Throwing open the top of the box, he would let out a low, drawn out moan examining the best gift he had probably ever recieved: a golden pair of handcuffs. He oggled at them for a moment, his mouth slightly ajar before meeting your desperate gaze. You had thrown your arms up in the air in an ‘X’ signalling him to chain you up. Nikki couldn’t leave his seat fast enough. “You are going to regret making me want you this badly.” Nikki had snapped the handcuffs on you instantly, tugging down the thong you were wearing in one swift motion, licking your naval and working his way down. “Good.” You would state simply, grinning as he looked up at you with stars in his eyes, lust and need practically oozing from his pores. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” He would mumble against you, your head leaning back from his hot breath being so close to the area you needed him at the most. “No, but you can prove it.” After you spoke those words, there wasn’t much talking after that; however, he definitely proved to you that he loved you in many, many ways.

(I’ve never really done anything like this before, so hopefully it doesn’t suck)

#nikki sixx #colson baker #daniel webber #douglas booth #iwan rheon #the dirt #motley crue the d #the dirt motley crue #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars #the dirt blurb #the dirt blurbs #the dirt imagine #the dirt fanfic #the dirt fanfiction #motley crue imagine #motley crue blurb #motley crue blurbs

[phantomphangphucker]

Legless On Maim Chap. 10: Epilogue: Aliens, Ghosts, And Humans! Oh My!

Vee’s a bastard, Danny’s a bastard, Eddie’s a bastard, ClockWork’s a bastard, Lewis’s a bastard; everyone’s a bastard. And multiple minor characters say why the fuck not and join the bastardly fray.

Danny sighs and turns his head back towards the kitchen, “Lewis! Come collect your monsterfucker boy toy!”. Eddie rolls his eyes like he’s heard this a fair few times.

Lewis walks over, “Eddie? Really? I mean one, kid’s not healed. Two-”, grinning, “-thanks for winning me a bet”, and side-eyeing Danny.

Danny points at him, “hey, doesn’t mean-”. Eddie doesn’t even let him finish that, smirking, “oh it does mean”. Danny sighs and hands Lewis what he thinks is a twenty though really? He’s kinda amused. Smirking at Eddie, “congrats, first dude to ever figure things out on their own”.

Sam shakes her head grabs everyone but Lewis and drags them out of the house. Lewis shakes his head, sips at his drink, and heads back over to his friends; Danny could handle Eddie.

Eddie blinks as they stop getting dragged by the goth, “are you serious kid? You look nearly identical with the glowy bullshit edited out”.

Sam smirks, “people are stupid and Danny’s a walking existential crisis”, looking to Tucker and Danny, “so much for Vampire Dad 2 I’m guessing?”.

Danny immediately points at them, “no you go, illegally record it or some shit”.

Tucker rolls his eyes, “you just don’t want us around Mr. Murders And Eats People without checking him out”.

Literally both Eddie and Danny respond with, “hey and I’m taken”.

Tucker blinks, “okay that was fucking weird”, while Danny and Eddie side-eye each other. Sam shakes her head and pulls Tucker off, knowing damn well Danny will just become a ball of overprotective.

Eddie shouts after them, “let it be known! We don’t eat kids!”. Which makes Danny wheeze when some dude at a stoplight shouts back at them, “good! I’m supposed to be getting my mom some blue hydrangeas from the goth! Doubt I can get then from a digested corpse!”.

Eddie mumbles, “everyone in this town is fucking weird”, looking to the side, “shut the fuck up bitch”. Which just makes Danny laugh more. Eddie looks to him, “anyway, you smell fucking weird and those are the most convincing fake leg crap ever”, sighing, “no, we’re not taste-testing”.

Danny snorts and kicks a rock as they start walking randomly, “actually totally do, I’m curious and, I’ve got legs for days”, and slides his hand down his leg with mock sexiness.

“Do you have a death wis-”, before going wide-eyed and suddenly getting bodily flung into Danny, “no! I don’t think he’s serious!”, regardless they end up in a bush with Danny muttering ‘ow’ and missing a bit of shoulder.

Danny stands himself up easily -a bush is by far not the worst thing he’s been bodily shoved into- and rolls his shoulder, Vee’s got some sharp teeth. Damn. Eddie untangles himself and staggers up, making some faces and muttering, “that’s it, no Lindor for you”. Danny lifts an eyebrow when a little black oily snake or something just sprouts out of the guys' shoulder, seemingly sneering all teeth, “HE OFFERED EDDIE”. Eddie grabs the head? and shoves them at his shoulder muttering, “back in, bitch”.

Danny starts wheezing as Eddie looks to him, “also you- oh”, turns back to the bush and promptly throws up. Making Danny fall on his ass laughing, so much for can eat anything! Snapping a probably not flattering pic of the guy bent over a bush, captioning it ‘guess who’s inedible’, and throws it in the Phantom chat.

Eddie hacks a bit, hands on his knees. Wiping his mouth, “ugh”, blinking down at the weird black/green bubbling sludge on the ground, that was slightly dissolving the bush leaves, “what the Hell are you made outta, kid?”.

Danny laughs loudly, “death!”. Laughing more at the little black snakehead popping out of the guys' neck and sticking out their tongue at him; he thinks they look either disgusted or slightly ill.

Eddie rights himself and quirks an eyebrow at Danny’s totally healed shoulder, “fuck you heal fast”.

Danny chuckles some more, standing up off the sidewalk and giving his shoulder a little pat, “Lewis lied, I’m completely healed. Family just don’t know. And to actually answer your question, ectoplasm and human stuff too”, pointing at the bush, “but that was probably the ecto”.

“Well I guess I ain’t eating fucking ghosts anytime soon”.

“JUST SPIT DON’T SWALLOW”. Danny wheezes more at the little head and Eddie looks to them, “the Internet was a mistake”.

“BUT WHERE WOULD YOU WATCH POR-”. Eddie smashes them against his skin, “no! He’s actually a minor. And we’re in public, asshole”. Looking to Danny, “how the fuck were you in Egypt though?”.

Danny shrugs, “eh, I’m tight with the god of time”. Eddie blinks and mutters to the side, “fuck me”. Danny chuckles, “no?”, which Eddie actually laughs at.

Eddie looks around, “alright, since someone made me lose my perfectly fine lunch, there a hotdog stand or some shit?”.

Danny snorts, “no clue if you’re referring to me or Vee”, tilting his head, “huh, that rhymes”, smirking, “cool”, looking back at Eddie, “if it’s food you’re after then the Nasty Burger’s the place”.

Eddie tilts his head and shrugs, “eh you made us eat at a place called fucking Flavours Of Negros ‘cause you thought they served people”. Danny decides against commenting on that one for so many reasons.

Danny walks and points in the direction of the place, “if it’s anything, it used to be the Tasty Burger before someone stole the T”.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, “that explains nothing”.

Danny shrugs, “there was a public vote and adults hated how all the teens loved the place. One mayor even banned teens from there”.

“Oh the stinking rich one that’s definitely shady as fuck and is kinda like you but for some reason is rocking some vampire bullshit?”.

Danny pauses and blinks at the guy, what the fuck? “How the- okay I get how you figured me out, I literally challenged and baited you. But how the fuck did you put Vlad and Plasmius together?”.

Eddie gives a goofy grin, a very smug one, “I didn’t, but thanks for confirming”.

Danny grumbles, “sneaky bastard”, but is smirking the whole time, “how’d you narrow him down to Plasmius though?”.

Eddie shrugs, hands in his pockets, “ego the size of the moon and rich people are always into weird shit”, pausing and rolling his eyes, “babe, we’re an alien/human cluster fuck. We absolutely are one of them fucking rich people into weird shit”.

“There’s a lot of ways I could take that”, Danny tilts his head, “wait, you’re rich?”. What?

Eddie grins like an idiot, “Life Foundation paid me out big for infecting me with a venereal disease- I mean Symbiote”. Danny just watches as the guys' legs seemingly gain a mind of their own and walks him straight into a pole.

Danny shakes his head at the guy not even seeming phased by that. “Well, I got jack shit for dying”.

Eddie points at him, “so you legit straight-up fucking died? Not just falling in a vat of ghost acid like some fucking spooky Joker bullshit, but less ‘murder a bitch in a burning pile of cash’ more ‘I actually think spandex looks good like a damn fool’”.

“Hey, don’t diss the supersuit! That shit’s my skin man”, shrugging, “at least a layer of it. I fucking died in that shit. On that note, don’t walk into giant vortex tunnel portals to alternate dimensions fuelled by four billion volts of electricity built by explosion prone people who leave switches inside stuff and want to punch holes into the afterlife for funsies, science, and a little bit of mild torturing”.

“Huh. Well fuck your life too then kid. Literally”, rolling his eyes, “not that literally. We don’t kill kids and I don’t think we can make someone double dead”.

Danny sticks up a finger, “actually that happens. And I’m only half-dead, motherfucker. Check yer facts”, smirking, “I’m a real dead-ringer for life, and too bad doc gave away my scraps. ‘Cause if I tossed ‘em in the portal I could really have one foot in my grave”.

“I’m pretty sure he’s not supposed to do that- bitch that is exactly why our ass will never be a doctor”, almost looking genuinely offended, “hey, you leave my intellect out of this, you cunt”.

Danny wheezes a bit, does this guy really just talk like this? “How have you not been forcibly admitted to a mental asylum? And no he ain’t but can’t let torture happy gov dogs have my shit”.

Eddie grins wide at that. “You know so I give precisely zero fucks. And nice, fuck the government. I think we’ll get on fine”.

Danny snorts, “oh I have serious beef with the gov. Fuck them. I absolutely have blown up government bases before”.

Eddie nods approvingly and actually fist bumps Danny, “fucking same, and I have enough dirt on people I could ruin their lives if they came after me”.

Danny grins almost menacingly, “the government section that’s here is a literal government secret and completely ignore any and all laws. Wouldn’t put it past them to experiment on child corpses or assassinate the president if he seemed ghost friendly”, shrugging, “Tuck keeps tabs on them, dudes a damn good hacker”.

Eddie tilts his head and nods, “I could use one of those”.

Danny snapping, “not for murder you don’t”.

“You’re too moral”.

“You’re not moral enough”.

Both of them wind up laughing at that since neither actually sounded serious or genuine.

Eddie shakes his head, “anyway, what’d Dan do with your leggy bits?”, muttering to the side, “Dan doesn’t eat people, Vee, and you’re never going to convince him to try”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “gave it to a ghost, Skulker was probably tickled green to get even part of my pelt”, pointing at Eddie, “he’s a poacher. He would cry tears of joy over successfully skinning me”.  

Eddie stares at him, Vee’s little head popping out and opening their mouth very wide, “WHAT THE FUCK”.

Danny smirks, he effectively freaked an alien; talk about life, or death, goals, “I have issues. Many of them. And they like to shoot at me”, glancing around at the finally clear street before full force grabbing Vee’s face, “I’ve held off but, oh my Ancients alien sofuckingcoolohmyancientsfuckingfuckyoufeelsofuckingcoolwhatsyourchemicalcompositionlike?canyoueatEddie’seyesandleakdownhischeakslikeblackmurderspacetears’causeIhadareallycooldreamaboutthatdoyouhaveanyspacerocks?ohmyAncientshowfarawayisyourspacerock?isitevenrock?orgas?floatylava!oh!oh!isitallblacklikeyou?orisblackrarecolouringforsymbiotes?redwouldberealcoolbutkindalikebloodwhichweirdrightgreenwouldbefunnycauseI’mallgreenydoyourcoloursevenmeananything?you’relikealittlevoidahungryvoidandohmyAncientsyoureyesaresocoolhowdotheywork?whatcoloursdoyousee?whatsyourfavourite?canyouseethroughEddie’seyeslikenormalhumaneyesoraretheyallenhanced?doesourplanetlookprettytoyou?andohyourteethwhataretheyyoudon‘thaveanybonewhataretheyconnectedto?wheredotheygocanyoumakeEddieallteethy?seemlikeyou’dbiteyourtongueallthetimewhichouchyourtonguelookssomuchmoredetailedhowmuchcanyoutaste?What’syourfavouritenotpeoplefoodLewissaidyou‘resuperoldsoyou’veprobablytastedsomuchshitfromallovertheuniversewhichjustlikeholyshitAncientsendmeZonecomethandgrantmesweetreliefwherehaveyoubeen?whatplanets?whataretheylike?madeoutof?thesmells!whataboutthesmells!?!yousmelllikebutterandcandiedeelandcigarettesmokewhichmustbeEddie’sfaulttellhimhe’sbadyoumustbesoconnectedthenthoughwhat’shisbodylikeversesotherspecies?whatotherspecieshaveyoubeenwith?what’stheirmusculaturlike?howdotheybreathandseeandhearandeverythinghowfarhaveyougone?whataboutallthestars?howdifferentaretheysetupelsewherearetherestarswecan‘tseehere?haveyoubeenonastar!oh!canyoueatastar?haveyou?waitwaitIforgotwhatdoyoutastelike?youbitmesotittatit’sfair”.

Eddie watches in slightly stunned disbelief as Vee desperately tries to get out of this kid’s grip but the kid's nails -claws actually?- are somehow clinging really well and he just leaves the ground and gets dragged with. Knocking everyone over again and licking? Vee. Then prodding their teeth, but that gives Vee the chance to get comfortably back inside him; feeling obviously super confused and startled.

Eddie has to practically kick the kid off him when he literally sticks his hand through Eddie’s collarbone where Vee disappeared through. “Ohthat’ssocooltheyslipthroughyourpoursandskinsuremyectoplasmdoesthattoobutit’snotanalienohmyAncients”.

Eddie stands, basically holding the kid at arm's length in the air, “Christ on a shit stick kid chill, holy shit”, muttering, “now I get why Dan said you like space with a little smirk”. It felt like the kid was literally vibrating under his skin and fuck, it just hit him how fucked up this is. He’s holding the hero of Amity Park up in the air by the waist. This kid’s got an entire year on his ass and doesn’t, like, y’ know, murder people. And the kid just went all fucking uncle tickles on Vee. “Everything you just said was unintelligible garbage”.

The kid stares at him with eyes almost painfully bright green, “you think your freaky long adult arms are gonna do shit?”, and proceeds to just make a whole ass nother half body out of his fucking shoulders. Eddie scrunches up his entire face, “I’ve never been on this end of the body horror, oh god”, as the kid's new pair of hands grab for his face.

Vee takes over going big ass Venom, because this is some bullshit, and holds Danny away with their claws by the kid’s shirt, like he’s an over-aggressive kitten. Danny just puts his hands to his face, the extra body sorta dissolving into green misty stuff, eyes sparkling, “so cool”. Which both Eddie and Vee think is a bullshit reaction.

“Howdoesthatwork?whatdoesthatfeellike?you’reinafuckingaliendudeohmyAncients”, grabs Venom’s wrist and makes some kind of weird staticky squealing noise, “ohitfeelsthesamebutmorestructuredandtheveiningislittledifferentandohyoumotherfuckeryouareablackandwhitelittlebitch”. Danny makes a few faces and talks like a normal breathing-required person, “you stole my colours bitch”.

Vee doesn’t say shit, just retreats into Eddie’s body and drops Danny; who doesn’t seem to give a damn about landing on his ass, standing back upright in seconds.

Eddie makes a bunch of faces at him, settling on just looking tired as fuck, “kid, what the fuck?”. Rubbing his face and grumbling, “I’m too sober for this shit”.

Danny chuckles, dimming his eyes some, “sorry not sorry, I like space. And Vee is an alien from space”, shrugging exaggeratedly, “sure I’ve been to space but totally not the fucking same”.

Eddie raises an eyebrow, “you’ve been to space?”.

“I can fly and don’t need to breathe, of course I’ve gone to space”, shrugging again, “sure so has my girlfriend but she has a hoverboard. And bitch yes I’m dating a ghost hunter who used to want to murder me real good. Occasionally still makes light stabs at my half-life”, smirking, “we both enjoy the little love taps”.

Eddie blinks and mutters, “well damn Dan, kid’s a mini-me... minus the murder, and probable alcoholism, and job, and probably the piss shit and vinegar childhood; heck he’s still a child-”.

Danny cuts in, “you really do just mutter to yourself in general huh? Not just to Vee”.

“You're weirder than Dan. He’s just chill chill ‘bout me having an alien up my ass, you’re enthusiastically chill. He just goes ‘huh, guess this is happening. Hi new friend, please don’t eat me’ and you’re over here like ‘let me touch theeeeeeeeem!’. Almost enough to make me regret coming mildly”.

Danny blinks, oh Hell no, “no, no taking the alien away from me. Also, Lewis is way weirder than me”.

Vee pops back out, Danny not even bothering to hide his grin, and looks at Eddie’s face, “ARE ALL HUMAN CHILDREN LIKE THIS?”.

“Hey, I’m almost seventeen I’ll have you know. That’s almost adult”.

Eddie looks at him and laughs a little, “no kid, no it’s not. I’d say twenty-four is the cutoff. And you feel like a kid too, and I don’t mean that in the human way”, scrunching his eyebrows, “and the fuck did Dan do? For you to think he’s weird. And why the fuck do you use his last name? You don’t scream pompous formal snob”.

Danny blinks, “oh! You can sense peoples ages? Or childness”, tilting his head, “sure adult ghosts can do that so you’re not special, but whatever”.

Eddie grumbles, “fuck you too buddy”. While Danny continues, “what hasn’t he done? Guy hid me in a thermos while having happy personal time with the bone saw when the government-sponsored anti-ghost militia came to abducted and probably torture me, and he hardly gave a shit. Guy doesn’t even react to ghostly supernovas. Super great dude though”.

Eddie grins, his opinion of this kid going up a few levels, “oh I know, he’s great”.

Danny nods immediately, “just the best. Totally stan”.

The conversation then becomes a solid ten minutes of just ‘Dan Lewis is just a really great dude’ and ‘I know right?’.

Danny chuckles, “and pompous snob is more my evil villain uncle’s thing. Lewis is a Lewis because Dan is an evil version of me that, like, low-key annihilated humanity once”, tilting his head, “who I’m oddly less traumatised by now. Eh, I blame Lewis”.

Eddie blinks, and Eddie thought his life was utterly fucked, “I usually blame him whenever anything goes right in my brain square”. Vee looks to him and practically screams, “STILL NOT A SQUARE EDDIE!”. Eddie aggressively shoving them back in when someone inside the building yells, “Jesus fuck!”, and sticks their head over their balcony, “oh, it’s the fucking Fenton boy. That explains it”, and disappears back into the building.

Eddie looks back to Danny, “I’m guessing you get away with a fucking lot”.

Danny shrugs, “me and my friends are the town weirdos. My parents, the town crazies”.

“Wow, you were screwed the day you were born”, shrugging as they continue walking in genuine yet again, “granted my dad liked to hit me with a shovel so fucking same”.

“Eh, mine used to be really into trying to dissect me. Liked shooting at me, but my dad’s a terrible shot. Though the little couple day torture session in the dungeon was not my idea of a good time”.

Eddie blinks, “I’m literal nightmare fuel and I’m telling you your life is a fucking nightmare. What the fuck”. Vee sticks their head out from Eddie’s jacket, “WOULD YOU LIKE THEM EATEN? WE ARE ALREADY GOING TO EAT EDDIE’S IF THEY EVER SHOW THEIR COWARD FACES”.

Danny immediately snaps, “no. Try that and I’ll impale you with a flaming shank”, and points a pointy chunk of ice that he got from somewhere at them. “My parents are great. Little bigoted, but we’re working on that. Oh and on that, they don’t know about your whole ‘alien up the ass’ situation. So maybe don’t go all chest-burster on them. Also don’t know I’m Phantom, neither does the girlfriend”. 

Eddie shakes his head, “so you’ve been doing hero shit without any parents or any other fucking thing?”. Eddie thinks that’s some major bullshit.

Danny shrugs, “eh, I got some adult ghost friends and clockpops, even of I seldom see any of them”. Danny chooses to ignore Eddie aggressively whispering ‘Vee’ and ‘no’ repeatedly to the side. “Vladdie tries to be a father figure but he’s a fucking fruitloop and probably spends, like, half his time finding new fun ways to taser me or maybe he’ll try the whole ‘I’ll murder your friends and family’ schtick again”.

Vee forms half a head on Eddie’s head and basically shrieks, “THAT’S IT! WE’RE ADOPTING BABY GHOST HYBRID PREDATOR!”, and whacks Danny on the head with a tendril.

“What?!? No! ‘Ready got parents, human and ghost!”.

Eddie smirks and rolls his eyes, “too fucking bad. Not literally. They’re just saying you’re a small blob to be protected. Which like, the fuck kid, you're on par or worse than my fucked up life”.

Danny rolls his eyes, though ‘protected by an alien’ sounds fucking awesome. “I could beat the shit out of you”.

“Is that a challenge? That feels like a challenge. And Vee does get bored of smashing around squishy humans sometimes”.

Danny grumbles, “you are way too fucking cool with murder”, and shakes his head with a smirk, “Lewis told me your weaknesses. My strongest ability just so happens to be a supersonic wail. I could level a city, you ain’t winning shit. Also a pyrokinetic, so double fucked”, Danny finger guns at him and shots little blue flames out; Vee, in typical fashion, hisses.

Eddie groans and dramatically sags, though not putting any real effort into it. Trying to play off the discomfort Vee sends his way over fire being so close. “I’ll admit, the Internet is all over the fucking place on what you can do. Some seemed like some crackfic bullshit. Same goes with the theories about you. Found one group that think you’re literally bloody fucking Satan coming to deceive the youth and bring about the end of times or some bullshit. Even a shoot off that you’re determining the merit of our souls and indoctrinating humanity into peace with the dead”, waving his hand around, “and some other crap about you being death itself”, pointing at him, “the stories told around you are just as fucked and wild as us”.

Danny blinks and squints at the guy, “okay, now I’m curious because that’s disturbingly close to the truth”.

“What”.

Danny quirks an eyebrow and smirks, “what? Did Lewis not mention that? The whole prince and eventual king of the dead thing? My defeat of the previous king was kinda a big deal, especially since it got the town abducted into an alternate dimension for a bit and attacked by a skeleton army”, smirking more and shrugging, “and co-existence is defiantly a goal of mine. And kingy is considered the will of the Zone so that is pretty much being death itself. And soul judging comes with the job”, tilting his head, “more of a passive thing though”.

Eddie blinks, “yup. In over our head. My soul is probably pretty fucked”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “no clue man, I ain’t king yet and hopefully won’t be for a few hundred years”.

Eddie raises his eyebrows, “so you’re vaguely immortal? We really are too similar”.

“Oh?”, Danny’s face lights up, “oh! oh! Does Vee’s weird healing of you stop the effects of ageing? Any cells or shit that gets damaged or worn they can just rebuild, reform, or replicate?”.

Eddie gives an almost impressed nod, “yeah, how the fuck did you guess that?”.

“Dude, alien’s meat puppet? Before dying fucked my vitals and physiology I was on my way to being an astronaut. My entire family are scientists, I have my own scientific patents, and my sister’s a certified genius pioneering a new field of psychology. Ancients, Lewis is bartering to get me into med school because he wants me to work with him. And my archenemy is a hardcore mad scientist. If I was dumb and not creative, I’d be deader. Dead with a side of dead sauce”.

Eddie shrugs, “I’d say I’m a dumbass so that’s different, but while I’m a dumbass, I’m a smart dumbass”.

“Fucking same. Investigative reporter probably requires a good head and creativity”.

Eddie chuckles, “yeah, I would have died long before Vee dropped on my ass. The whole situation that led to Vee was me biting a fish bigger than I could chew”, Danny then watched him go all Sauron demon voice and have suddenly very sharp plentiful teeth, “NOW WE ARE THE BIG FISH”, and grinning all teeth,

Danny eyes the teeth and grins, “so cool”, shaking his head, “not the biggest though and no snatching my guppies”, and grins, all fangs.  

Still using Eddie’s mouth, “LOOK EDDIE! IMPRESSIVE TEETH TOO! TOLD YOU, PREDATOR!”. Eddie seemingly takes back his mouth, teeth staying though, “I think I noticed, babe”, pointing at Danny, “big ass fangs you got, pretty sharp yourself”, and he has no clue why the kid is looking at him with awe and wonder; probably the alien/space thing again, which is probably going to be a running theme with this kid. Poor Vee.

Eddie gets his real answer when Danny mutters, or attempts to mutter anyway, “hoz? Wiz youvz so goovz at talkin’z? Iz canz barey fuckin’z zveekz”.

Eddie blinks, sputters, and promptly starts laughing. That explained that! The kid hadn't learned how to speak while being sixty-percent teeth yet! Hahahahhahaha. Bending over, hands on his knees and wheezing. Granted, his first time rockin’ shark teeth had been god awful and Vee had judged him so hard. Speaking of Vee, they pop out of Eddie’s jacket yet again and squint at Danny, “BABY. HASN’T EVEN LEARNED TO SPEAK PROPERLY YET”.

“Fuzz youv. Dizt”.

Eddie bursts out laughing more and has to sit down on the sidewalk, “hahahahahahahahahahhahahahaha”.

“Shovz tit. Thvez nez!”, and promptly stabs his lip, which Eddie laughs so hard at that he tears up, Danny just scowls, “adulvez fanz, chilz faze; dozen worz”.

Eddie lays on the grass, “hahaha I have no idea what you said kid! Hahaha! You’re really good at the whole unintelligible garbage schtick, aren’t you. Haha”.

Danny flips the guy off, switching to ghost speak which was perfectly easy to do with his fangs, since it was all scratchy echoing warble static. Made by vibrating ectoplasm, different teeth (since each tooth had different density or number of pores or solidity), clicking his jaw, and only a small amount of actually moving his mouth, “t̵he̶͞y͏̕’̵͜r̵ȩ̴͟ ̕n̡o͢t ͜m̵̷ad̡e̷̴͢ ̵̸fo҉̶r̶͏̨ ̵E̡̛ņ̛g̸͢l͠͞įs̸͠h̸̶͟, a̸s̛͡s̷̕h͟o̸͞l̢e̕.̶ ͏̷T̵͟h̴͏e͢y’̕re͜ no̧ţ͟͜ ҉̧͜e̛v̴͟en҉ ̨̛̕ma̸̕d̶̡e̡ f͢ơ͟r̷̡ ̢f͟͢͞l̡͘e͝s̶h ͠͠a͜͡n̡̛ḑ͘ ̨͞b͏͟o҉n̢̛͘e͠,͠ ̨͘e̶͡c̛͏t̛͠o̕’̕͏s̶ al͝wa͟y̨s͢ a̸̧ ̵l̸̨i̵͝t̢͢tl҉ę̵ mor̨͝e̢ ̵̕f͜o̵͡͡r͏g͢i̷̶͞v͏i̸̴n̸g̵̢.̧͡ D҉̕ic̴k̨͢͠”, then deciding to be a real asshole and put some serious power behind it after checking no one was around,

“y̰̠ͬ̄ͭͣ̈́̚ȍ̜̹̚ú̡̖̺̘͓́̔ ͍̖͈̫̗̺̫͆ͧ͒w̛͒̀̿ī͇͊͝l̹͖̝̖̻̹̳͛̅̍̾̓͒l̯̗̻̲ͣ̄ͭ̚̕ ̧̝̻͕̈̽d̵̹ͮ͊̃̏͒i̦͎̝͔̻̭ͤͫ̎̓͂ͮ̐͡ͅe̹̝̲̠̞ ̢̬̘̈̑͐͐ͮ̄o̩͇̰̻̎ͬͨͬ̂ͮ̽ṅ͔̘͙̮͍̋͊͋e̗̳͉̽͆̚ ̙͎͍͙̠̫͘ͅḋ̗̩̱ͪͧ́ͅä̡̺̰̩̺̺͖y͉͔̞̺̦̩̣͋̇͋͆ͤ̅ ͙̭̠̩̬ͪ̄͐̉ͬ͐ḁ͆̅n̫̤̤͈̭͌̽̋̅ͨ͛̚d̦̘̬̻̹ͭ ̧͓ͤͫ̋͂̐I̴͉͍̟̪͈͗ͭ̍̎͒̋͂ ͕̘̳͇̝̤̅ͭ͋͛̃w̸̱͙͖͇̫͕̯ͫ́͌ͯ͆̊̑i̛̒̒̆̓͊̚l̼͉̩͍ͦͪͨl̲̗͍͙̲͚̖̈̍̐̈̚ ̳͍̒̆b͓̹̅ĕ̮̖̣ͨ ̪̹͉̘̉̅ͨt̛͉̲͍̖̬̩͙͐h͈̹̥̥͓͗ͣe̬r̛͖̘̺̱̥͍̆ͮͪͮ̑ͦͬe̎̆̍”.

Eddie blinks from the ground, promptly sitting the fuck up as a shiver ripples down his spine and through Vee; who instinctively hides back in Eddie, which honestly weirds Eddie out a bit. The kid smirks down at him, meaning scaring was literally the goal here. Blinking at him, “the fuck. Alright your voice is officially more frightening than Vee’s. The fuck. That sets off every bloody alarm bell, damn. I’m supposed to be the one that scares the piss outta people”, pushing himself up and staggering only a little, “well, Vee technically. Guess we’re both scary little monsters”, smirking down at the kid, “emphasis on little in your case”.

Danny pointedly retracts his fangs before speaking, “fuck you, I’m gonna be, like, seven feet tall one day”. Eddie just rolls his eyes at that, not even considering the fact that Danny is absolutely correct.

Vee pops their little head back out and immediately moves to hiss, all teeth, in Danny’s face; who hisses right back. Eddie thinks it’s like some weird asserting dominance thing. Which seems exactly like what Vee would do, gotta try to save face after going all hiding whack-a-mole. Though with the temperature dropping and what’s up with the colour palette of this town?

Symbiote and halfa stop and grin toothy at each other.

“IMPRESSIVE”.

“So cool”.

Eddie shakes his head and points at the sign in the distance, “would you look at that, I think I see your favourite poorly named restaurant in the difference”, this kid is going to inflate Vee’s ego at this point.

Vee looks back to Eddie, “YOU’RE THE ONE UP YOUR OWN ASS ENOUGH TO THINK YOU CAN APPEAR ON TV WITH KETCHUP STAINS”.

Eddie rolls his eyes, “says the alien up my ass“.

“I’LL MAKE THAT LITERAL, BITCH”.

Danny’s cheeks go noticeably red, puts up his hands startlingly fast, turns on his heels, and half shouts, “nope! Hello Nasty Burger!”, and starts walking.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head, least the snarl-fest is over. Though feeling like they just exited a surreal pocket dimension after a bit because suddenly there are people around again, it’s warmish, the colours are normal, and leaves are falling slowly. “Your town is some weird bullshit”.

Danny laughs and grins at the guy meanly, “it’s a ghosts lair, what do you expect?”.

“The whole town? Talk about overkill”.

Danny mutters, “fuck you. Ghosts are dramatic”, as he pushes open the doors.

Eddie gives the most sarcastic, “You don’t say”, he can muster. “Sure makes driving interesting”, tilting his head and chuckling a little, “okay, yes, and fun”.

Danny snickers, flicks his hip hard enough to make a metallic ping, “guess I’m not the only one that has a hard drive”.

Eddie doesn’t get a chance to respond to that as some kid shouts, “holy Zone it’s Eddie Brock!”.

Danny tries not to laugh as Dash of all people runs over, “dude the complication videos of you bashing people’s faces in and shit are fucking legendary”.

Eddie blinks, “I like that’s what I’m known for”. And some ginger kid mutters, “I prefer his exposé”, gets up and points at Danny, whisper sneering, “I hope he exposes your ass, Phantom”, and stalks out of the restaurant.

This gets Dash to actually notice Danny’s existence, “Fentit! The Zone’s a weak loser like you doing with someone famous?”, looking Fenton up and down before smirking, “you look not dead, soooooo”, and moves to snatch that weird basketball kid’s half-empty drink off the table. He doesn’t get a chance as Valerie -who’s honestly scary as fuck- shouts, “if you even think about it I will make you eat that cup and clean the floor yourself!”. Dash puts the cup down when the manager also shouts, “and I’ll let her!”.

Danny snickers meanly and points at a clearly confused Eddie, “Oh didn’t you know? We’re friends”.

Dash snaps, “bullshit”, and shoulders his way past Danny.

Danny shouts after him, “oh I dead ass am!”. While Valerie walks over, in uniform, and hugs Danny, “Zone I’m glad to see you up and about”, grabbing his shoulders and looking him up and down, “your parents scare me”.

Eddie does know how to take a queue, ten bucks says that’s the girlfriend, and just goes up to order. On that note, the fuck is a triple death meaty mighty? I mean, he’s totally ordering that, whatever it is. “-and I’ll have whatever qualifies as strong coffee”. He’s pretty sure Danny and the girl are making out, low key but still.

The cashier glances at Danny and back to the -holy fuck this dude’s famous- Eddie Brock, “you know the Fenton kid so I’m just gonna give you what he orders. One Deathspresso”.

Eddie smirks and laughs.

‘AS BAD AS YOU, EDDIE’

Eddie’s gonna take that compliment.

‘NOT A COMPLIMENT, IDIOT’

Eddie ignores that. Watching the kid just get his ‘usual’ whatever the fuck that is. 

Eddie raises an eyebrow at the girl when she joins them at a table. Not even having to ask as she goes from zero to murder a bitch in a split second, smacking a hand on the table and pointing the other at his face, “eat anyone and I’ll blow your ass up with a missile launcher. Even try to eat Danny and you’ll find me standing over you with a cattle prod”.

“Been there, done that”, and gives an award-winning sultry smirk.

Danny chuckles, “this a bad time to mention they already tried a sample?”. Eddie nearly chokes on his coffee due to one, fuck this is impressively strong. And two, the girl actually pulls out a weirdly shaped cattle prod. Danny snatches the weapon away, “we’re cool Val. ‘Parently I’m inedible”.

The girl grumbles, “fine, but I'm watching you”, and sounds aggressively serious about that. Eddie watches as Danny straight up chugs half his Deathspresso; fuck this kid’s worse than him. Which is definitely not a compliment.

Valerie turns to Danny, “so obviously you’re running your cyber stuff well, but the spooky stuff? Did you, maybe, get a spooky visitor drop in?”.

“If by ‘drop-in’ you mean fell through the ceiling laughing and mildly scaring the piss outta me, then being tail bros? Then yeah”, shaking his head and taking a few bites, “seriously, what the fuck, Val?”. Obviously he has to cover his Phantom ass.

Eddie just sips his coffee, pretending this conversation makes any sense.

Danny points to the manager who’s giving Valerie some serious side-eye, “you might want to get back to work, but first”, Danny leans over with mock sexiness, “I’m glad we started dating during this time of year”.

Valerie asks cautiously, “why”.

Danny grins, “‘cause we’re autumn mated”, and points a thumb outside at the orange trees and leaves on the ground.

Valerie sighs, “fuck you”, and shoves him through the window -which had been broken not too long ago- and into a bush. Getting up and brushing herself off before giving Eddie another threatening finger point and walking off.

Eddie tosses out the trash and walks out to watch the kid pull himself out of the bush, “I’m really fucking confused that you let people push around. Pretty sure you woulda let that jock kid dump stuff on you”. Vee sneaks their head out, “EAT THEM”.

Danny brushes off his pants, “not gonna happen”, straightening up, “if Dash spends his time beating me around then he doesn’t have time to beat up the ones that can’t handle falling twenty-something feet from a flag pole or being force-fed rotten food”.

Eddie groans, “oh god, you’ve got a fucking hero complex”, as they start heading back to the kids -really fucking weird- house.

“Lewis says you do your thing for hero-y reasons. Dishing out justice, without the mercy”, squinting at the guy, “or do you just do it for the meal”.

Eddie can practically smell the judgmental disapproval coming off the kid, “kid, no offence Vee, do you really think I’d be munching on people without my little alien hitchhiker?”, shrugging and sticking his hands in his pockets, “sure we only hunt people down when we need the meal, but I’m a thorough motherfucker; they’re always bad guys. Both guys that I would have come after anyways, minus the gratuitous murder. And guys that I couldn’t go after before on account of them probably fucking murdering me”. Danny looks like he’s actively determining his worth and truthfulness.

Danny nods after a bit, “alright, you seem believable enough. You’re the moral compass of Venom, at least it seems you actually are moral”.

“I don’t know ‘bout moral kid. The filth of the world is our prey and happily so”.

“Woah, chill your tits there Jeffery Dahlmer”, anything else Danny was going to say getting cut off by a shiver travelling through his body and a little plume of icy mist, “hold that thought, Hannibal, I’ve got a job to do”, and slips off into an alleyway.

Eddie grumbles, “like I haven’t heard that one before”, and chooses to lean against a building and finish his drink.

Not two seconds later does Eddie hear that echoey voice shout, “well looks like I’ve gone from one foodie to another! Surely you’ll find me a more flavourful delicacy! But no! You aren’t allowed to divide my existence away into servings! Though I’m certain I’m a perfect recipe for heroic tendencies!”.

Eddie watches as the black and white kid, who looks waaaaaaay less blurry in person, seemingly gets blasted out of the alley by meat? Like a legit literal floating river of meat. Eddie thinks this is already some major bullshit.

Danny dodges a meat axe, having a hard time not laughing his ass off at catching Eddie’s major ‘what the fuck’ face. The Lunchlady predictably pausing after Danny blasts apart the meatsuit -he’s gonna have to figure out where all this meat came from in the first place- with a couple well-aimed blasts. She looks him up and down, and shakes her head with a scowl, “YOU'RE STILL TOO SKINNY! Cookie?”.

Danny sighs, putting his chin in one palm, “no”.

“THEN YOU WILL FRY!”, and slams him into the ground with an oversized frying pan.

Danny just shoots a beam at her from the small crater he’s in, “the only thing I need to sweeten myself up is coffee!”.

The Lunchlady stops again and deadpans, “that’s bitter dearie”.

“Do I look like I care what my taste buds think!?! I’m Death flavoured anyway!”, floating back up, “and I think these battle flavours need the added spice of my fist!”, and promptly socks her across the jaw. Talking a bit quietly at her, “you and Boxy aren’t having issues are you?”.

She waves him off, “oh hardly”, and throws him into a building via a meat fist.

Eddie eyeballs a bit of steak that smacked into the ground with an oddly satisfying thwap. Muttering as Vee uses his leg/foot to poke it, “babe, that’s gross. Don’t eat that”. He might not have standards, but he has standards. Though if the steak wasn’t cooked Vee would probably eat it anyway.

‘YES’

The Lunchlady flies in after Danny and presents a little serving tray, taking off the lid. Danny takes the little paper while giving her some serious confused cautious eyebrows. Laughing when he sees it’s actually a bloody baby shower invite! The Lunchlady nods curtly, “I’m well aware you rather your humans not know, dearie”.

Danny nods, “truth”, and floats up, smirking, “should I bring a boxed lunch”.

She shakes her head, “I'm not going to question how you knew her name”. Danny just snickers meanly before, “surprise thermos!”, and sucks her into his thermos.

Eddie grunts, “so you seriously use a thermos? And your enemies invite you to parties? Honestly?”. Bullshit. That is bullshit.

Danny turns and looks at Eddie who’s sticking his head in through a hole, “you know, most people run away”.

“What is ghost lady gonna do? Kill me?”.

Danny blinks and wheezes, changing back human and wiggling his tail about, “we’re weirdly similar”, shaking his head, “and she would have tried once. Ghosts know better than to genuinely try to kill my humans though”, floating over to snatch up the discarded CyberSteps and reattach them, “also, I’m more like frenemies with most of my enemies”.

“You’re stupid”. Detachable robo legs were a new one but Dan had not failed to mentioned getting stab and hack happy with the kids lower half or that the kid's parents were trying, and apparently succeeding, at playing pin the legs on the teenager.  

Danny points at the guy, “hey, all ghosts fight each other. It’s a little something called socialising; not that you know much about that”.

“Cut deep why don’t you. You little fucker”.

“I’m only five-four!”.

“Exactly”.

“Jerk”.

“Dick”.

Vee takes over Eddie’s mouth, “BITCHES”, apparently feeling left out.

Danny tilts his head, hearing a very particular engine, and grabs Eddie’s jacket to physically yank him to the side; just as the mini GAV -which is honestly just a reinforced minivan instead of a suped-up mini-tank monster truck hybrid thing- barrels through the wall, his dad clearly being the driver. Eddie yelping, “god fuck! Holy shit!”.

Maddie sticks her head out of the door, bazooka in hand. Lowering the weapon and clearly raising her eyebrows as she spots Danny, lifting her goggles, “oh! Sweetie!”, looking down and likely checking her scanner, “darn, missed It... them, missed them”.

Danny mutters, “they’re trying at least”, before waving at her, “hey mom, don’t worry, I’m fine”.

Eddie grumbles as he stands up, “don’t mind me, I'm good too”, only to slip on a chunk of debris and land right back on his ass.

‘MAKING US LOOK BAD, EDDIE’

Eddie grumbling, “she’s in head to toe spandex, I don’t think she cares”. Danny rolls his eyes, “it’s useful spandex”, he’s over being embarrassed by his parents ‘fashion’.

Eddie just snickers at the kid as his mom walks up and starts checking him over, “you alright? The ghost didn’t hurt you or anything? Or were they one you’re... friendly with?”.  

Danny bats away her hand, “mooooom, cut it out. I told you I’m fine”, Ancients he hated being babied, especially in front of others. Having to make a point to keep the snarl out of his voice, can’t help the teeth-baring though, “seriously”, huffing though glad when she gets the message and cuts it the Zone out, “and it was just the Lunchlady”, shrugging, “‘parently BoxedLunch was born”. She just blinks at him.

Eddie turns to the side and laughs, “well those are... names”, and laughs a little more. Danny points aggressively at him.

Maddie smiles a little stiffly, “ghosts names usually have a meaning of some kind”, gesturing to the mini-GAV, “how about I- or Jack I guess, drive everyone back to the house?”. Jack, as if summoned, sticks his head out and waves.

Eddie shrugs, following the adult and teen into the... ‘vehicle’ thing. While Danny nods, “yup, BoxedLunch will be able to telekinetically control boxed and canned food products”.

Eddie shakes his head, “that’s stupid”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “could be Obsession based too. Usually a mix”.

Jack nods and guns it, speaking while Eddie shrieks and chants ‘no’, “Phantom seems to be the exception. But! We’re pretty sure he’s a different kind of ghost! A needed one! A spirit!”, looking to Danny, “like ClockWork!”.

Eddie just side-eyes Danny while clinging to the door handle.

“I do believe I mentioned we are called NeverBorns”. Startling nearly everyone. Eddie muttering, “oh fuck me- no not you”.

Danny tilts his head up a little, child ClockWork appearing with their arms crossed on his head. Danny chuckling slightly awkwardly, “hey Clocky, uh, whatcha doing?”. Is ClockWork showing up randomly around his parents going to be a routine?

Maddie gives a stiff nod of greeting, “hello... ClockWork”. Jack waving erratically and giving a far more genuine, “hello! Again!”.

Eddie catches on damn quick, based on the stiffness the lady seems ridiculously similar to homophobes trying to tolerate or not be an utter ass around an out and proud queer. So she was what? a speciesist? Genuinely it seems. Well that’s fucking stupid and bullshit. The guy seemed more like the ignorant type that’s actually totally cool once they know better and actually believe it. And these guys were supposed to be the creme de la creme of ghost research? Wow, fuck that bullshit. “I’m not even gonna bother pretending to understand what the fuck is going on with the baby ghost, but aren’t you guys like the fucking ghost scientists of the world? I’m detecting some speciesism crap here. Studying the whatever the fuck that you’re bigoted against is stupid and is exactly how you do bad science”.

Danny holds up a finger, “uh, actually the government’s pretty well the same and did try to nuke the Ghost Zone; which would have pretty much destroyed the universe”.

Eddie points are him, clutching the door harder when the vehicle takes a hard turn, “that’s exactly what I mean. Studying while high on the bigotry train equals making stupid decisions”, gesturing wildly, “like blowing up an entire dimension. That’s stupid. I’d metaphorically punch someone in front of the camera for that. If I were a ghost I’d probably terrorise people trying to blow my home up or shoot me for the crime of existing too”.

Maddie opens and closes her mouth a few times, “well we didn’t believe them capable of emotions-”.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, trying to not look pathetic while clinging to the door, “oh? Just like women aren’t capable of being rational, right?”.

Maddie makes a series of faces, “that’s not the same”.

“Isn’t it?”.

“Ghosts are a different species”.

“And? Women are a different sex”.

“They’re dead”.

“So?”.

“The have an absence of life, so logically it made sense they’d lack things of the living”.

“Women lack balls, which those old assholes clearly thought had something to do with being fucking rational. And do I even need to start on the whole genitalia related hysteria theory bullshit?”. Danny chokes a little and covers his eyes at that. Eddie smirks, “I know jack shit about ghosts, but I can taste bullshit when I smell it”.

ClockWork sticks up a small finger, “that is not how that phrase goes”.

Eddie only glances at them, “do I care? No”.

Jack parks and stands, “to be fair, every time anyone had encountered ghosts they had been violent”.

Eddie practically peels himself off the door, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve never ran into a friendly shark”, adding like he’s almost being forced at gunpoint to, “sharks are cool as shit though”.  

Danny gets up too, ClockWork not moving from their spot on his head. Danny’s almost impressed they’ve stayed in child form for so long, means there’s probably a reason though. “Sharks are pretty cool. Awesome teeth”, and gives a meaningful smile; he’d throw in his fangs if his folks weren’t around.

Eddie gives a small smirk back, a bit of sharp teeth visible. Then turning back to the parents, “science and biased opinions don’t mix, like milk and lemon juice. Nothing is fact until proven otherwise and if someone says it’s fact, prove them wrong; your bloody well self included. Screw your heads on straight”.

Danny looks to him while his parents gape a little, “I think I get why you get punched and abducted so much. You’re, like, super confrontational”.

Eddie points at him while walking up to the door, “and you’re not?”. Which Danny will admit is a bit fair. Eddie continues, “though yes, I do tend to egg people into throwing down. There is little better than punching pompous money-grubbing jackass that fuck over the lower classes in the face”. Danny can’t ever disagree with that either. ‘Cause well... ‘cause Vlad. Though he absolutely hears Eddie mutter to the side, “okay fine, yes that’s better. Only reason I like it now is your oily ass-oh yeah you and me both-fuck off”.

Maddie bites her lip a little but nods, while Jack goes over and gives ClockWork a pretty awkward handshake; considering how small their hands were at the moment.  

Lewis opens the door just as Eddie had muttered, “fuck off”. “Lovely to see you two too”.

“Jesus fuck, God sorry Dan. Not you, you already know that though”, looking to the side again, “shut the fuck up, you cunt”. Lewis just chuckles and moves to let everyone in.

Lewis points to ClockWork, “why’s the ghost godparent slash Guardian here?”.

Eddie turns to Danny, eyeballs the tiny ghost, “who the fuck makes a child someone’s godparent?”. ClockWork immediately changes to their adult form, moving to float next to Danny. Eddie blinks, “or not a child”, then looking offended, “oh yeah mock me why don’t you”, probably being mentally laughed at.

Maddie looks to the ghost, “Dan is right though, is there a reason or do you just... hang out”.

Eddie looks to her, “let me guess, ghosts ‘don’t hang out’”. Lewis gives him a fond smile that absolutely conveys that this is pretty typical Eddie.

Maddie actually does look slightly embarrassed, which might have something to do with Eddie’s tone, “we didn’t use to think they did”. Which both Eddie and Danny huff at.

ClockWork sticks up a finger, “we do simply spend time in each others company here and there. I’ve gotten him quite good at chess and better read”. Eddie coughs, muttering, “he plays chess???”. ClockWork keeps going, “though I do have my reasons for my appearance now”.

Danny sighs, moving to sit in the kitchen, “let me guess, either has to do with Eddie showing up or-”, popping his ankles up on a chair and crossing them, “-the leggies”.

Eddie shuffles off to the living room, pulling out a shitty-looking beat-up journal; when the ghost points at the kid’s metal legs. Now that he’s confirmed a few hunches he might as well work on recent stuff he can actually get paid for.

Danny sighs, “the timer I’m guessing? Some ability or purpose you left out because it wasn’t the right time?”. Danny totally one-hundred percent saw this coming. ClockWork usually had, like, a bajillion reasons for things.

Jack laughs when ClockWork smirks and nods, “you sure know them well! Danny-boy!”. Maddie smiles genuinely at that.

ClockWork taps at the timer with their staff, “as was said, such things can alter time around the wearer. And I must say, the Observants are quite displeased over your now patchy and difficult to interpret future”, both ghost and halfa share a malicious-looking grin over that. Before ClockWork continues, “but much more importantly, you could certainly go on a nice little jog through time. A quaint little stroll down the time streams road. Hop from spot to spot on the timeline”.

Danny blinks and chuckles, putting his chin in his elbow and resting on the table, “so a free built-in pass through time? You out here making me a little optional time hopper huh?”.

Maddie leans forward, “are you saying you gave Danny time powers through his legs?”, how is she even supposed to react to that? Sure he technically had ‘powers’ already, the floating and the cold of his Core; a healing factor arguably too. Probably more, that he might or might not know about.

ClockWork pats Danny’s head, “in a way. Far less timely than me, and I will see anything he gets up to or tries. Quite suiting for a timely apprenticeship”.

Danny blinks, “if I start accidentally falling through time, I’m blaming you”. ClockWork knows how he is with new powers. Though fine, being the ‘child of time’ probably means he should have some kinda timely stuff. Jack can’t help but laugh at that, he could see just how much trouble Danny could get up to with that! Good thing this ClockWork fellow seemed responsible, which super strange to truly see from a spook! Maddie can’t help but see this as like them liking his tail, wanting him to be more like them; which she’s trying not to view negatively. Parents usually wanted their kid to be similar to them.

Lewis leans forward, “interesting choice of words, ‘apprentice’ implies job”.

Danny tilts his head, right they had told him they had a job for him. Sighing with a smile, “you’re really just making me crank my internal clock rapidly towards death”.

ClockWork gives him another little pat, looking to the parents, “traditionally child ghosts always take something like an apprenticeship under their guardian; through the passing on of power. My binds simply don’t allow for it”, smirking, “at least not through traditional means”. Danny grumbles incoherently at that. ClockWork looking to him and changing to their elderly form, “now the title proper would be ‘prince of time’ of course, being that I am the lord”.

Lewis shakes his head, Danny seriously couldn’t get away from the prince title now could he? Ghost Prince, Time Prince. Though he’s pretty sure the second is not even kinda a ruling title.

Jack blinks then looks a little excited, curiously excited, “‘prince’? Like royalty?!?”. Danny thumps his head on the table and leaves it there. ClockWork changing to a child and wrapping their tail around his neck, giving him a kinda weird neck/shoulder massage thing, “cloooooockyyyyyy”. Though relaxing and melting a little.

Lewis can’t help chuckling at that, giving him a very mocking, “awwww”, and getting a very mumbly, “fak yo”, in return.

Maddie shaking her head and a little surprised to find herself fighting back a smile, “I’m more interested in the binds thing. Your power level means you really should be a six, but you’re not”. ClockWork fiddles with Danny’s hair, leaving him to answer. Danny turns his head to the side, “they make sure the universe goes along the best and longest path. And that is all they are to do. Rules they physically have to follow. Restricts how much they can interfere”, sighing and shifting against the table a little, “can only do all this stuff with me ‘cause Guardian. Only Guardian ‘cause of circumstances and whatnot”. ClockWork nods with a hum, letting a content pleased smile be very obvious.

Jack and Maddie grin at that, both pretty damn certain now that this ghost genuinely liked and cared; no villainous motives. And if they were really thinking on that right now they'd probably cringe, obviously they’ve been wrong and probably about a lot. And Danny knew that. He was involved with ghosts, liked some, and very close with at least one. They had screwed up really, because they had hurt him in a way. He’d always been constant and firm in his opinions. His friends the same but seemingly more disappointed in them about it; probably out of protectiveness. Vlad said it like it was obvious fact but didn’t give a damn if they agreed or not. Dan was gentle and arguably objective, though he had probably talked with Danny at length. And this Eddie had pretty much come up and smacked them.

Lewis decides this probably qualifies as a ‘family moment’ so makes possibly awkward attempts to leave them alone, getting himself coffee and leaning against the entryway between the kitchen and living room. Smirking a bit to himself at spotting Eddie, who’s scribbling down his chicken scratch while rubbing little circles on noodle Vee’s head; Vee looks quite content with the situation.

Meanwhile, Maddie eyes the bit of the clock timer peaking out off Danny’s pants. Obviously the ‘prince of time’ thing wasn’t an actual royal title but more ‘family of someone important’, which was still strange. ClockWork calling it ‘apprentice’ definitely confirmed they were teaching him things beyond just chess; a bit mind-blowing ghosts played boardgames. She wonders though...

ClockWork speaks up, Danny looking a little zoned out all the while, “I prefer to allow him to teach himself. A guiding hand, rather than an authoritative voice. The latter weathers with time and often leads astray; the lessons less true and less useful. Request before you demand. Advise before you tell. And listen before you think”.

Jack grumbles, “I don’t think I quite get that”.

“To demand is to control their actions. To tell is to control their beliefs. To think without listening first is to control their voice. You have done plenty of this in the past. Demand fear and hatred of ghosts, scorn those that refuse to listen. Tell tales of your decided truth as if fact, and speaking louder if someone stuck their fingers in their ears. Thought of only others' nativity and how to reinforce yourselves when others spoke their grievances. Now you’ve tried the other path. And though it can be filled with hurt and discomfort, you’re already richer for it you'll find”, smirking faintly, “and yes, Daniel does do jobs for me; though not officially or with any real request from me. I merely pushed for timelines that aligned best and things worked themselves out as they so often do. Now I can request of him in genuine, and him of me”.

The two blinks at them, a little overwhelmed. Both pretty sure Danny might be the only one who doesn’t find them overwhelming. And Danny was probably the only one whose opinion ClockWork actually even cared about. Maddie leans back a little, “so you’re kind of like the... god who can’t truly interfere and simply must let people live their lives? Let fate play out?”.

“And, to use the phrases of mortals, I lose no sleep over that”, shifting to an adult and easily moving Danny to be practically curled up in their lap/against their chest, “I care not whether you live nor die. Whether you know happiness or suffer greatly. Beyond the effect of that upon Daniel and upon the continued existence of the time stream”.

Maddie could choose to take time that incredibly negatively, she could almost call this emotionless; but really? It was more someone whose priorities were far beyond individual beings. And besides, this meant that ClockWork would do what was best for Danny; everything and everyone else be damned. If anything, she could technically trust them with him more than anyone else. Maybe it was the bond Danny explained, or maybe it was simply them as a Being.

Jack’s more focused on how Danny absently grabbed ClockWork’s cloak and sorta snuggled up to it, very adorable and Danny would probably be so embarrassed if he wasn’t practically dead to the world. Danny seldom seemed really relaxed, so it was really nice to see! Then watching the ghosts blue hand pull out a necklace from under Danny’s collar, the one Danny always seemed to wear but never over clothing. Jack honestly has no clue what that necklace looks like and according to the paramedics it literally vanished as soon as they got his shirt off. Seeing the little silver CW charm dangling off the thin chain, he knew that thing had to be ghostly! Neither parent even has to ask.

“I gifted him this after becoming his Guardian proper. And now-”, taping the chain and suddenly a little gear charm appears on it, “-I find this to be another moment to commemorate”, letting go and the necklace simply phases through the shirt. Looking to the parents, “he prefers to keep it over his Core, which is typical for children. Symbolically saying that to truly hurt them you’d have to go through their Guardian first”, ClockWork puts in some emphasis to make the message very clear. The parents give a little nod and are actually genuinely happy to hear that.

Then they hear what they’re pretty sure is a string of swears and thud; turning their heads and seeing Dan choke on his drink a little. Danny -and ClockWork but that’s besides the point- is the only one to actually hear Eddie’s grumble about being bit. Which Danny smirks over and promptly bites ClockWork. Jack laughs while ClockWork chuckles, ahhh the joys of having a trickster who’s still growing into his fangs under their cloak. Danny does crawl off them right after though, moving to make his own coffee and obviously trying to play things off. Which gets Maddie to giggle.

Eddie stumbles in, grunts at Danny, “you like murder coffee, pour me some”, looking to the ghost, “fuck, you’re still here? Don’t you have things to do? Decrepit houses to haunt? Or children’s closets to hide ominously in?”.

ClockWork smirks, “I’m hardly the type. You should watch your local news, I believe”. Eddie rolls his eyes and shuffles back to the living room; reclaiming the couch. Danny sighs and looks to the ceiling, something going wrong in someone’s home when they leave was exactly his luck. Turning around and sipping his coffee while leaning against the counter; everyone (minus ClockWork)feeling just slightly awkward now.

So Jack jumps up, looking to Maddie, “after today I say we need to get right on rebuilding the GAV!”. Maddie looks from Jack to ClockWork to Danny, before smiling; it would probably mean a lot to Danny to just trust ClockWork alone-ish with him. Turning to Jack, “sounds like a plan, hon”.

Danny grins like an idiot to himself after they head down the lab stairs, they had changed so much! Looking to ClockWork, who grins, “one more thing, Daniel. Here”, and hands over folded fabric.

Danny looks at it, only having to fold out the hood to know it’s a freaking cloak or maybe mini cloak, “oh Ancients, ClockWork. Thanks”. ClockWork just laughs a little before throwing the cloak around his shoulders and disappearing. Leaving Danny grumbling fondly, “can’t even say goodbye”. Then looking to Lewis’s stupid smirk, “shut up”. Lewis chuckles and moves to sit in the living room. Danny electing to follow.

Danny leans over the back of the couch, looking at the absolute mess that is Eddie’s writing, “whatcha doin’?”.

“Adult stuff you’d never understand”.

“Fuck you”.

Eddie chuckles, “filling in details on the little interview I had with Cletus Kasady”.

Danny blinks, “ain’t that guy a serial killer?”, he’s not sure he even wants to know now.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow but doesn’t look away from his notebook, “surprised you know that, dudes whacky”.

Danny rolls his eyes, “nice, another frootloop”, leaning over even more purely to be obnoxious, “I should show you how to write with a proper quill, could make this look even more illegible. And writing with a fucking quill in public is a total power move”.

Eddie mutters, “that’s actually a decent argument”. While Danny squints at the words, sounding mildly unsure and tilting his head; attempting to read it, “‘there’s gonna be carnage’?”, snorting and moving to actually flop on the couch, “well someone took lessons from us spookies on being ominous”.

Eddie snorts and rolls his eyes, “more like typical bad guy trying to be intimidating”, smirking, “doesn’t really work on an actual predator though”.

Danny snickers, “tell me about it”.

Lewis sips his drink, watching the slight sharp toothy grins. Maybe those two were going to be like oil and fire, which might not be a good thing. Eyeing the short cloak that was honestly closer to a shawl, whatever, it was probably out of his hands now. Least the kid had some omnipresent god looking out for him. Positives Lewis, positives. Vee’s noodle head being suspiciously quiet is more than a little ominous though.

End.

#Danny Phantom #phandom #danny fenton #clockwork #venom #crossover #dp focused #eddie brock #dan lewis #maddie fenton #jack fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #valerie gray #legless on maim #injury recovery #amputation #family bonding #character growth #fan fic #phan phic #phantomphangphucker #my writing #have a fic suck my dick #phantomized

[hotchocolatelovesyou]

Straight men, Patience and Jeremiah (Ethan x MC, Ethan x M!MC)

So.

I wrote something dumb about Ethan x m!MC, when MC discovers that Ethan left.

We are all disappointed for the last chapter but it’s still the third chapter, so let’s have some faith.

I’m sorry if there are some mistakes and if there are some explicit terms, but MC is not exactly in the right mood so why not?

it’s loooong and I’m open to all feedback!

+ English is not my first language so please be kind 🌸

MC’s name: Alejandro Amanti.

Warning: explicit language

(here we go)

Alejandro didn’t have exactly a good day and wanted to be alone. He was afraid that if he met one of his friends, he would let his disappointment vent on them.

Ethan was gone. He didn’t even say goodbye, he just fucking left.

Alejandro scoffed at the thought. Coward. 

Couldn’t blame him, though. Not really. 

It happened a second time… they had sex again. 

This time felt different though, even if in a really good way. 

The first time it happened, it was a big Skyfall of all the emotions that they had to limit. But now? These ‘emotions’ felt way more powerful. Alejandro couldn’t exactly tell why or what in particular changed, but he was sure that Ethan noticed that difference too. 

Maybe, that was the reason why Ethan left. 

But… really feelings were so hard for Ethan to understand that he had to fucking fly away, both literally and metaphorically? C'mon now. He was one of the most brilliant doctors on planet Earth, that wasn’t plausible. 

Alejandro felt dumb, narcissistic and egoistical just by having that thought.

Then again, if that wasn’t the reason, why? Alejandro himself brought up the topic of going to Africa and help the ones in need but Ethan answered that he liked a lot the idea but he was ‘too busy here to do this type of humanitarian work’. 

Anyway, the second time happened because Alejandro noticed a detail in the diagnosis of an eight years old child. She was adorable: every time she smiled, she showed her dimples. She looked like princess Tiana from the Disney cartoon, he told her so. The day after that she had a really cute tiara on her curly hair. Everyone honestly loved her and felt like they had to protect her.

Sadly, she was getting worse and worse every day, she couldn’t stop coughing and she was losing too much weight, too fast. She was so small…

The doctors didn’t know what to do, Ethan was too busy and so stressed by his patients that Alejandro didn’t want to ask him any help. He searched and searched and searched for days. Then, one night, he finally got it. 

Alejandro noticed the particular breathing she had by listening to her while she was sleeping and well… he did his job.

Her family showed him extreme gratitude and um, the news that dr. Alejandro Amanti solved the problem (“another one? The dude is a genius”, “why doesn’t he mind his own fucking business and let the rest of us do the job for once?”) fastly flew in the hospital. The little girl gave each one of the people who helped her a hug before living and her parents left in a similar style, obviously happy to have their baby healthy again.

Ethan heard the news too and, of course, of fucking course, he made sure that Alejandro knew that he was proud of him. To be honest, he didn’t even do anything in particular: he simply smiled at him, his eyes showing true affection. 

Those fucking eyes.

They met accidentally here, the same bar where Alejandro was now drinking, the same bar that let their flame finally breathe with freedom for the first time ('freedom’? Not exactly but whatever). Ethan congratulated with Alejandro, the pride he felt was very visible in his gaze. 

Things then started to be confusing, in Alejandro’s mind. 

They were alone, both living earlier, and Alejandro just had to close his eyes to feel again Ethan’s lips kissing him with such kindness that he might have melted right there, his back gently pressed against his bedroom’s door, their tongues caressing each other. Well, at least in the beginning. He actually woke up with some bruises the morning after, the feeling of Ethan’s possessive hands still lingering on his hips and thighs. It could have been a really good morning if only he didn’t wake up alone, his pillows still carrying Ethan’s perfume.

It was so tiring, loving Ethan. So fucking tiring. 

Alejandro had been initially scared of it. Not only he had a crush for someone who basically was his boss, but he… he wasn’t even sure it was just a crush anymore. When he finally had started to accept that maybe, maaaaaybe, he in fact loved Ethan, the older man acted like an idiot. 

Every single time Alejandro tried to take a step towards him and, possibly, a relationship between them, Ethan caressed his cheek and made more than ten behind. 

But Alejandro wasn’t an idiot, Ethan’s eyes weren’t a mystery anymore for him. 

He was surprised that, at this point, he could read Ethan’s state of mind by just looking at them. It was pathetic, honestly, but Alejandro truly studied Ethan. His gaze, his expressions, the way he walked, his gestures. He knew exactly when the switch between 'notorious professional doctor’ and 'sarcastic dumbass’ happened, it was a slight change that, however, made the whole difference in the world. 

Also, Ethan was different every time he interacted with someone. If Ethan interacted with his colleagues, he was almost cold and distant. Although, if he had a friendly-ish relationship with some of them, his behavior was more relaxed and he cracked a smile more easily than normal. If Ethan interacted with his patients, he was almost as reasonable as a machine, thinking the most plausible diagnosis, but being warm at the same time, especially with children or shier patients. 

God, he loved him. Fucking Ramsey.

Alejandro took another sip of his beer. 

The next day would have been his free day, he could afford to get drunk. He didn’t know how exactly he’d come back to the apartment but he didn’t care. 

That night was for him and his broken heart only, fuck everybody else. Fuck Ethan, in particular.

He chuckled, whispering lightly to himself “cheers to us cowards”, before drinking a long, long sip of his beer. So long, he finished it. 

“Aren’t you one of the doctors?” asked the barman when he ordered another one. Alejandro nodded slightly before taking it, not even watching him. He was always kind, alright? Just once, he could afford to be a dick.

“Are you sure you want another beer? You look you wanna get drunk, is that safe for you? Like, don’t you have lives to save or some shit like that?” Alejandro was going to snap at him but thought better of it.

Just tonight, just once, he wanted to be left alone. Tomorrow morning he would be the good old Alejandro again, all smiles and kindness. 

But right now, he just wanted to get really drunk in peace.

“Yeah, not tomorrow though. I’m gonna move right there if that’s okay. Would you take the next drinks to that small table from now on? Nice, thank you.” He didn’t even let the barman open his mouth, he just silently slipped to a really small table for two, in the corner of the room.

He kept drinking, alone, his mind couldn’t stop thinking about a particular shade of blue.

Fucking coward, he thought again.

Truth be told, he was no better than Ramsey. He just… fell in that shit harder than him, maybe. Probably. Alright, for sure.

He didn’t even know if Ramsey fell at all, his only hope lied in all the emotions he could read every time their eyes met, there was something somehow soft and tender in them every time Ethan looked at him. 

God, he missed his old him, when he firmly believed that all that romantic bullshit about reading eyes was, in fact, just that: bullshit. Apparently, it wasn’t. 

He truly got it bad, huh?

Alejandro ruffled his hair, annoyed with everyone and himself.

He was a coward too. When he found out about Ramsey, he wanted to punch things and scream and… and cry. He had never felt such rage and disappointment, Alejandro shivered at the memory of it. 

Even if he was empty now, he wanted a single night of letting things go. Just before the next morning, when he would start pretending everything was fine again. 

I’m going to get my shit together, but not now.

He wanted to call him and tell Ethan that he was a piece of shit (if not worse) but… he didn’t. He ended up taking his rage on his bedroom, smashing things and throwing things at the wall, yet, he didn’t call Ethan.

Alejandro thought about some of the reasons why he didn’t actually call him. 

A part of him was saying that he didn’t call Ethan because he was trying to, uh, be superior, because he was tired of being treated like that and blah blah blah. Deep inside, he knew that wasn’t the truth.

He didn’t try to contact Ethan because he was scared: what if Ethan wanted him totally out of his life and refused to answer him in any way? What if, in case Ethan answered somehow, he’d explicitly tell him that nothing could ever happen between them?

He didn’t even realize he finished his second beer, lost in his own thoughts. He was starting a third one, already opened, when someone knocked on the table. He didn’t care enough to do anything about it. 

It was the barman, giving him another beer and taking the ones he finished. 

“I don’t wanna anyone on my conscience, do you have a friend you can call after you’ve done?” With a grunt, Alejandro raised his gaze from the old wood.

“I’m in my twenties, I can take care of myself if I want to.” The barman highed his brows, not impressed at all.

“And, uh, do you want to?” Alejandro scuffed and raised his hands, shifting on the chair.

“Do I look like I want to?” He didn’t answer him, taking the time to put the empty bottles on the counter before coming back to him.

“Alright. Yo, Jacob, I’ll let you handle things for a few minutes.” With that being said, the barman took the free chair in front of him and sat down, pressing his back to the wall and facing the counter. It was Tuesday night, the bar was almost empty except for a few other people, with an old rock song in the background.

The man sitting in front of Alejandro was in his late forties, probably, and was very attractive. It was clear that he liked to take care of himself because his graying hair was gelled and his arms were really toned. He had a good profile, Alejandro watched his side while the older man lighted a cigarette. He took an ashtray from a table near them, making himself more comfortable on the chair before saying something.

“I’m Jeremiah.” Alejandro slightly inclined his beer towards him.

“Alejandro.“ 

Jeremiah smiled before starting singing the 'Ale-Ale-jandro, Ale-Ale-jandro’ from that old Lady Gaga’s song. The younger man rolled his eyes.

"Really? Very original.” Jeremiah smiled a little bit more, before taking a hit from his cigarette.

“So what’s the deal? What is going on?” Alejandro took a sip before answering, but he stopped because something wasn’t exactly right.

“This is water,” he stated, starting to be really irritated.

“You downed two beers, one right after the other, and it’s pretty late, I’m not sure you noticed. Do us a favor and drink some water, would you? Now, who broke your heart?” Alejandro shook his head before putting his arms on the table, his chin resting on his forearms. 

“A fucking doctor.” Jeremiah exhaled the smoke, moving his head to tell him to continue.

“He believes that nothing can or should happen between us because we are colleagues - well, not exactly - or some shit like that, and it would be unprofessional and it could ruin my future and his career and blah blah blah. Same old 'it can’t happen’, you know? Now he is so fucking away and I have a lot of shit going on even without him so who cares, right? It’s not even-” Alejandro was tracing some nonsense on the table with his finger while speaking but when he realized that he was invisibly spelling 'Ethan’ with his index, his voice stopped and couldn’t continue. 

Jeremiah pretended not to notice.

Maybe I truly should start switching beer with water.

“So it’s a man, huh?” simply pointed out Jeremiah. Is that the part he focused on? 

Alejandro was starting to feel sleepy. He straightened his position, his back heavily leaning on the top of the chair, too tired to be annoyed.

“Don’t go all homophobic on me now, it was you who came here. I like vaginas too, does it makes you feel better?” Jeremiah laughed wholeheartedly at that, causing the other few clients’ heads to spin in their direction with curiosity.

“We are in the same boat, son. You don’t have to worry at all” reassured Jeremiah, with a wink, before tapping the cigarette to make the ash fall. 

“Well, did you call him or something when he left?”

“I didn’t even fucking know he left!” replied Alejandro, rasing from his old position with a burst caused by his exasperation, starting to gesticulate.

“The night before? His dick deep in my ass. And then I woke up alone and with him on a fucking airplane!” He was way more annoyed than he supposed. He thought he released his anger by that point but evidently, it wasn’t like he believed. 

Jeremiah gently shushed him, almost like if he was dealing with a dozing child. Well, Alejandro did feel somnolent, so…

“He isn’t straight, is he? This is how straight men usually act. First, they whisper you the loveliest things then they come back home smacking their heterosexuality to everyone’s face. I had an experience like that and fuck, it hurt." 

Alejandro felt very sympathetic, even if he didn’t think that was his exact case. He rested a hand on Jeremiah’s forearm.

"I’m sorry.” Jeremiah shrugged it off, biting his lip with half a smile.

“I’m happy now, don’t even worry about it. Keep talking though, I’m interested.”

“He isn’t straight. Well, I didn’t ask him explicitly but it’s not like he goes out screaming that he is a straight man. And he is single. Plus, he knew what to do when he-well, in the right situations. He’s just… so fucking professional.” Alejandro sighed, a hand messing his hair. He was really tired. What the hell did he think? Everything was a huge mistake, everything.

He took a long sip of water, intending to empty it to sober up even if he didn’t feel drunk at all, just done with the world. It almost looked like drinking water was the only right decision he had made that night. Well, drinking water and spilling his heart with a stranger. 

“Then why didn’t you just call him?”

“To tell him what? 'I love you even if you’re a fucking idiot, please came back’? Hell no. And… and he’s doing something noble and brave, out there. He’s helping people who need support. I just-I truly can’t. But fuck if I don’t want to.” A moment of silence followed his words. When Alejandro looked at Jeremiah again, he was scrapping his beard. What remained of the cigarette was in the ashtray. 

“Gotta be honest, I’m still trying to understand why you don’t wanna contact him. I mean, no offense, but all you said? It sounded like bullshit. You could send a message or whatever else if you wanted too. I mean, with no pressure or anything, he’d answer at the right time. So, let’s be honest here, what is truly stopping you?" 

Alejandro bit his lip, unsure.

Admitting the truth to himself was one thing; it was easy and silent, a secret between him and himself only. But stating it out loud? God, he cringed just at the thought of it. 

Whatever. Jeremiah wanted an answer? He’d give him one.

"I'm afraid he might reject me..." Alejandro only successeded in whispering it. Jeremiah was watching him intently, allowing him to take a breath before continuing. He felt embarrassed and also a little pathetic.

"Besides, I have to respect his space. I don’t like the idea of it but if he needs space and time to think…”, Alejandro sighed before proceeding, “that’s what I will give him and even more.”

Jeremiah was completely facing him, a cheek on his hand, listening actively.

“You really like him, don’t you?” asked Jeremiah.

“I love him.” The older man smiled with affection, leaning a little bit more towards him.

“It looks like you’re a bit confused, son. But you know what? I’m actually sure you know what to do. The problem is that you don’t wanna do it.” He started getting up while speaking and raised his arms up his head to stretch.

“It’s funny 'cause”, Jeremiah put the chair back to its original position, “I’ve always thought that doctors were hella brave, you know? You guys are badass." 

He’s so wrong it’s almost adorable.

"Don’t let fear dominate you, Alejandro. Don’t ignore it, either. Go home and sleep, you’ll find a solution. Personally, my advice is to have patience. I think that whatever happens between you two is your business only. If you guys love each other for real, then you’ll find a way.” Alejandro sucked the inside of his cheek, unsure. Jeremiah made sure that he made eye contact, shifting his weight on the table, then he kept speaking.

“The truth will come out one day, somehow. It doesn’t matter how good you guys are at keeping your relationship a secret, it will happen. Does it really matter? What even is life without love?” Jeremiah stopped for a second, noticing that his tone of voice was becoming louder. He raised his chin to say goodbye to a client who was going home, then Alejandro got his whole attention again.

“Do you love the man? Keep fighting for him. It will be a long journey, full of disappointment and sadness; you’ll be on the verge of giving up many times. I’m telling from experience, love fucking sucks sometimes but damn, it’s worth it.” Jeremiah sighed, his eyes shifting on the wall, probably recalling some memories. 

“Honestly? You’ll never learn how loyal and devoted you can be to someone until you fall in love.” He met the younger man’s eyes again. 

“Alejandro, if you truly love him, if he loves you too but he has his head up his own ass, you should help him fight his fear. He’s probably way more scared than you are.” Alejandro was surprised, he had never really considered Ethan worried about something else other than his job and his patients. 

That is unfair. He worried about you, too.

“That is, though, the moment that he disrespects you or your decency as a human being is being discussed, you’re out of there. Am I clear on the last part, son? It’s his loss then.” Alejandro felt the urge to hug this man and punch something at the same time.

Why things about them were always so complicated? Why was he the one who had to be patient if Ethan was an ass?

He wanted to switch off his heart for a while. There was no time for all these feelings, thoughts about blue eyes and all the romantic bullshit. 

I probably wouldn’t, though, because I’m an idiot in love with someone who’s even a bigger idiot.

In the moment of silence that followed, Jeremiah asked him if he should have called an Uber for him and, with a smirk, told him that the beers were on the house.

“I’ll handle it, don’t worry. Um, actually, I want to apologize if things looked a little embarrassing.” The barman smiled at him, placing gently a hand on his shoulder.

“You are way more than welcome to come back, whenever you want. Just, don’t try to get drunk next time. Not for this shit at least, alcohol is never a solution. Deal?”

Alejandro blushed a little, well aware of how dumb and desperate he might have looked like.

“Deal. And thank you, seriously. Thank you.” Jeremiah winked at him, moving to go behind the counter again when Alejandro stopped him.

“Hey? Sorry if it’s too personal but I was wondering. Uh, what happened with the straight guy?” Jeremiah smiled brightly, his eyes shining not only because of the lights in the bar.

“I married him." 

Alejandro felt like a complete idiot because, really, he should have noticed the simple golden ring on both Jeremiah and the man behind the counter’s annular. 

When Jeremiah came next to Jacob, who was not only a colleague but also his husband, he didn’t waste time to slap his butt and give the other man a fast kiss on the lips.

He left the bar feeling way better than how he initially entered.

If Alejandro did end up writing a message to a certain doctor with blue eyes that night, it was his business only.

If Ethan didn’t answer, breaking Alejandro’s heart a little bit more, that was his business too.

But you know what? He had to have patience and he was more than ready for it.

Ethan was worth the wait.

#dr. ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey #ethan x m!mc #m!mc #open heart #choices open heart #choices: open heart #OH #OH2 #pixelberry #pixelberry choices #choices #playchoices #ethan x mc

[propertyofnikkisthighs]

Sure Feels Right Ch. 6

Taglist: @hllywdwhre, @xxkellsvixen19xx, @desdestiny 

Warnings: None

2019

Lux couldn’t wait to show the boys the work that she had done, but she loved having something to dangle over their heads as well. Rook would hold her hand then try to sneak a peek under the bandage when he thought she was oblivious. Colson just kept asking non stop like a child if he could “please see it”. She needed them to just get on stage so she could have a moment of peace. They even bothered her during the sound check.

“Come on please?!” Rook pleaded trying to lift the bandage again. She really should stop holding his hand when she knew his game, but she really loved holding his hand.

“You will see it right after the show I promise you.” Lux replied sternly “Don’t make me stop the hand holding Rook”

“No fun!” Rook moaned sticking out his bottom lip. He did grip her hand a little tighter, clearly taking her threat seriously which caused her to chuckle. The hand holding wasn’t anything new for them, he had started that fairly early on. It started with him just squeezing her hand in passing, then he would linger for a bit before walking away, and now he would go about his business while holding her hand. She loved it even if it made working slightly difficult.

“Come on dude it’s about time to go on” Colson nodded towards the stage and pulled Lux in to kiss her temple before making his way to the stage. Rook gently squeezed her hand and started to walk away when she pulled him into a hug.

“Kick ass tonight.” She said and placed a kiss to his cheek before walking away. He touched his cheek where he lips had been and rubbed the spot that now felt on fire. He turned to see her high fiving and hugging the other guys and he felt his heart skip a beat. She was amazing, he thought as he made his way to the stage.

Rook looked amazing singing along to “Shout At The Devil”, but she was slightly biased as it was one of favorite songs. She wouldn’t admit it to any of them, but it was also her favorite part of their current set because it showcased the multiple talents of the boys. When Colson had suggested the switch up during the planning of the tour she had been a big pusher for it. Well and Casie who pretty much was the creative force behind this whole album. She made eye contact with Rook as he finished up and ran to get on his drums again and he sent a wink her way. These two were ridiculous, she thought fondly shaking her head.

The show seemed to be ending and Lux hollered along with the crowd to show how proud she was of her boys. Rook and Colson beelined their way to Lux both talking a mile a minute.

“Okay the show is over and we fucking killed it. Present the wrist!” Rook demanded picking her up and spinning her.

“Rook I can’t show you anything up here and you’re so sweaty put me down!” Lux laughed trying to regain her balance after the drummer set her down.

“Sorry sorry” He smiled wide and warm and it gave her confirmation that she had made the right decision.

“Now understand that these tattoos-”

“TATTOOS?! AS IN PLURAL?” Colson interrupted.

“As I was saying,” she continued ignoring the interruption. “They are my choice. I don’t want to hear any negative comments about how I could regret them, hypocrites” They made fun of her last tattoo for weeks because it was a simple rose.

She slowly removed the bandage to show a small set of three tattoos starting at her wrist and going a little down her forearm. An anarchy symbol, the double x’s, and a small rook adorned her arm with words around it that they couldn’t make out.

“Die autem thronus tuus erit firmus” Lux read to them with a smile pulling at the corners of her lips “It means ‘the dynasty will never die’ you know like in “The Gunner”?’

Rook was speechless. Nobody had gotten a tattoo that specifically had him in mind. He was etched into her skin forever right along with the double x’s for EST. She could’ve just done that, but instead she included personal tattoos for him and Colson. 

“Well…...say something” Lux shuffled seeming embarrassed now.

“I...this means so much Lux” Colson began voice cracking a bit before he recovered and flashed a big smile at her “You’re stuck with us for life now”

“You two were always going to be in my heart forever. This is now just a reminder that I have a whole new family for life” A blush crept across her cheeks as she said in so few words that she loved them.

Rook just grabbed Lux and held her in his arms for a little bit. It was probably the tightest hug she had ever received. He was hoping the hug would say the words he couldn’t muster up the courage to say to her. 

“Thank you” he whispered against the side of her head as he pressed a kiss there before letting her go. She was in his heart now forever too and he wouldn’t want it any other way.

2018

Rook was such an idiot. How did he think this wasn’t the most obvious shit? He was horrible at planning.

“You told her to run errands all day and show up ready to go out at nine pm?!” Ash groaned her annoyance palpitable.

“I didn’t know how to get her out of the house!” Rook threw his hands in the air in defence. He had never planned a surprise party for anyone before, what was he supposed to do?

“Could be worse” Colson snickered. “He could have given her a scavenger hunt. Now those things are really obvious.”

“Just cause it could be worse doesn’t mean this is better. Look let’s just hope Lux doesn’t use her brain today and is surprised. I have to go get her cake, please don’t fuck this up. That means you too Pete” and with that Ash was out the door.

“Fuck did I do?” Pete asked looking between Rook and Colson. The boys burst into laughter and continued to set up the house for Lux’s surprise party.

Rook positioned the “Happy Birthday” balloons how Ash had instructed him for people to take pictures standing in front of them. Ash called the friend/photographer they had coming to take pictures early of the set up before drunk people destroyed the house and decorations. The nervous energy in him was building the more time that passed and the less there was to do in order to prepare. It felt as if time were moving too slow and too fast at the same time.

“Stop pacing dude you’re gonna make me sick” Pete laughed from his position on the couch.

“I just want her to feel special and shit, but not overwhelmed.” The party was Rook’s idea initially, however Colson and Ash came up with most of the decor for tonight. He had just seen how much fun she had at Colson’s birthday party and he figured she deserved the same treatment.

“Smoke this and chill the fuck out dude. She’ll love it, this is Lux we’re talking about man.” Colson said having finished rolling a joint for them. Rook lit the end of it hoping that the weed would help calm his nerves.

9:00 PM rolled around faster than he thought it would after they smoked a couple joints. They waited in the house with most of the lights off so that things weren’t too suspicious, but she also wouldn’t be able to see any decorations. They heard her enter the house and shut the front door behind her. All of them holding their breath.

“Hello?” Lux called out flicking on some of the lights.

“SURPRISE!!” Everybody yelled at once earning a squeal and a smile ten miles wide from the small girl. Rook let out a shaky breath and smiled, he had pulled it off.

Lux was trashed. She was giggling up a storm and hugging and hanging on anybody that would let her. Rook alternated between goofing around with Colson and Pete and watching her just interact with people at the party. She was in her element, with people is where she thrived, Rook was so busy thinking about her he didn’t notice her walking in his direction.

“Hey handsome” She slurred giving him a playful smile.

“Hey drunky” He laughed returning the smile. She reached out and grabbed his hand holding it to her face.

“I heard this was your idea” She said quietly.

He gulped. “Yes it was, I thought you deserved a party too. Just like Colson.”

“No one has ever thrown me a surprise party before now” She had a look of concentration on her face and he could hear his heart beating in his ears in anticipation of what she was going to say. She opened her mouth and closed it again deciding against saying what she was thinking.

“Well you keep us alive so I would say you have earned a surprise party.” Rook chuckled “Since you’re usually organizing our parties” He took the opportunity to pull her closer to him in a hug and was relieved when she hugged him back.

“I keep you alive because you guys make me feel alive” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“What was that?” Rook felt his ears getting hot at her confession.

“Mmm you boys are the best thing to have happened to me. Like ever.” Lux looked up at him with glossy, dreamy eyes and he became putty in her hands. If she would have asked for his soul at that moment he would have found a way to give it to her. Then suddenly she leaned back and fixed him with a stare of determination.

“What?” He questioned suddenly uneasy. She smiled wide again and leaned back into the boy wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. She turned her head to the side and placed a small kiss to his cheek lingering for a moment before pulling away from him and making her way back to the kitchen. His cheek felt like it was burning where her lips had been, his hand flying up to touch the spot her lips had been just seconds before. He quickly downed the rest of his beer and went to find Colson and Pete. He had to get this girl off his mind before he made a move and potentially fucked up everything.

#jp cappelletty #jp cappelletty fanfic #rook fanfic #rookxx #mgk #mgk fanfic #machine gun kelly #machince gun kelly fanfic #mgk x oc x rook #sure feels right

[honeypiehotchner]

Trust -- part thirty-one

Alright...here she is.

Thank you guys again for all of your feedback on the last chapter and about this story in general. It really did help me and I am endlessly grateful for you all xx.

You’re running. Somehow. Something is chasing you. Maybe. You aren’t entirely sure what’s going on, but you’re positive you are running.

           Sprinting. The word comes into your brain and the world shifts. You’re sprinting now, like something – or someone is actually chasing you. The trees fly by your head faster than you think they should be (you can’t run that fast), but it doesn’t seem to bother you for the time being.

           You come to a full stop. Turning in circles, you gauge your surroundings. You recognize these woods. They’re from a movie or something – something you’ve seen before, but you aren’t sure.

           A stick breaks to the left of you, causing your head to sharply turn in that direction. You let out a sigh of relief when you see Sherlock standing there, now frozen with wide eyes staring at you.

           “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you breathe, turning to walk toward him. “You nearly scared the shit out of me.” A relieved smile crosses your lips as you shake your head at him. “What did I tell you about sneaking up on me?”

           Sherlock doesn’t move an inch as you move closer, now standing maybe a few feet away from him. “I don’t understand.”

           “What do you mean you don’t understand?” You furrow your eyebrows. “I thought someone was chasing me.”

           “That was me.”

           “Yeah, what the hell were you chasing me for?”

           “You’re the murderer,” he replies simply, now standing straighter, towering over you. “You’re the one who killed her.”

           “Who?”

           He gives you an even look. “You know.”

           You take a deep breath. So, you’re caught. You should’ve known better. Should’ve known someone would go digging around in the file and eventually come for Sherlock Holmes to fill in the gaps, eventually putting you in prison.

           “What now?”

           Sherlock shakes his head, surprising you. “Now I keep you safe.”

~~~

It’s the sixth day since you were brought to the hospital, and you still haven’t moved.

           The security guard Mycroft provided stands outside your hospital room door at all times. John swears there are two of them that rotate, but some hospital staff swear they never see the one guard move a single inch, so no one really knows the truth.

           The press has gotten wind that you, Sherlock Holmes’s alleged “girlfriend” (though some are claiming the two of you are married since Sherlock hasn’t left your room, but many others are debunking that theory because well, he’s Sherlock Holmes) are in the hospital, and you have received countless arrangements of flowers and sympathy cards. Everything is scanned before it is allowed into your room, the cards forming a neat pile on the window sill for you to open whenever it is you wake up.

           John hopes you’ll wake up today. It’s New Year’s Eve, after all.

           Sherlock left briefly yesterday to shower and change his clothes, and he returned with his violin that he has been playing since yesterday evening. John isn’t sure if Sherlock is playing because it soothes him or if he’s playing because he silently hopes that if you hear your song, you’ll wake up. But the doctor imagines it is a bit of both.

           At first some of the hospital staff were going to attempt to tell Sherlock he can’t play his violin in here, but then they became too mesmerized by his playing that they don’t mind it. Except when the tune turns solemn, and then the nurses all share a look of despair.

           Sherlock Holmes may be a bit of a machine, but right now, in this hospital, he has to be the most human anyone has ever seen him.

~~~

“Are you going to play that at our wedding?”

           “Of course,” Sherlock smiles, bringing the violin down from his chin. “What else would I play?”

           “Well, I wasn’t sure,” you chuckle, suddenly feeling a swarm of butterflies in your stomach at the confirmation of Sherlock playing something at the wedding. “What are you calling it?”

           “Not sure yet,” he sighs seriously, staring at the paper. “What do you think?”

           “You’re asking me?”

           “That is what I just did, yes.”

           “Well, I don’t know,” you shrug. “The answer is inside your mind, though, that I’m sure of.”

~~~

Sherlock picks up his violin for the third time today. He’s run out of songs to play and has now started to compose on a whim, staring out the window at the falling snow as he does.

           He tries not to think about the sound of your squeal when it snowed for the first time earlier this month. You apparently had never been granted the pleasure of playing in the snow when you were a child, so you immediately had rushed outside to play in it. He tries not to remember the sound of your laugh when he ran after you and got promptly smacked in the face with a snowball. It was a special laugh, one of yours that he hadn’t heard yet. It wasn’t so much a laugh as it was a mischievous giggle, and he hasn’t heard it since.

           Sherlock clenches his jaw and swats the memory away, annoyed that he let his mind wander around again.

~~~

“Sherlock…” You groan, pulling the sheet over your head. “What are you doing?”

           “Waking you up,” he replies, followed by the sound of your curtains abruptly opening.

           “What for?”

           “Because it’s time.”

           You pull the sheet down, giving him a strange look. “Time for what?”

           “For you to wake up.”

           You curl the sheet underneath your chin, staring him down. “That’s awfully ominous.”

           “Is it?”

           “Yes!” You laugh, your arms stretching out in hysterics. “Yes, Sherlock, it is. What’s the matter with you?”

           “Nothing,” he shrugs, then crawling into the bed beside you. “Nothing’s the matter.”

           You roll onto your side, looking into his eyes. “Are you lying to me?”

           “I would never lie to you.”

           “You better not,” you smirk. “Kiss me.”

           “Kiss you?”

           “Yes, kiss your wife, for God’s sake.”

           “My wife,” he smiles, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you into his chest. “Does it make me an idiot if I enjoy the sound of that?”

           “Maybe a little,” you admit. “But I like the sound of it, too.”

           Your legs tangle with his as he kisses you slowly, cradling your face, and slowly reminding you of just how much he has grown to love you.

~~~

Sherlock switches to playing the song he wrote for you – over and over and over again, on one big loop. John and Mary share a look when they hear the beginning of the song for the fifth time with no sign of an ending.

           Sherlock is facing the window, playing the violin when you open your eyes. You aren’t even sure you’re awake really, but you don’t dare move. You let him play, admiring the way his shoulders move as he sways with the music.

           It’s something you’ve missed seeing.

           He finishes the song (again), this time turning around as he begins to start it once more, only to freeze when he sees your eyes looking back at him.

           You manage a small smile, murmuring, “That was beautiful, Sherlock.”

           You jump when he practically throws the violin down, running to the door and yanking it open. You hear him shouting for John a second later, which makes sense, and your brother comes rushing in just a moment later.

           “Oh, my god,” John breathes, practically collapsing at your bedside as he hugs you the best he can while you’re in bed. You weakly squeeze his arm, which is as much as you can do for now to let him know you’re okay.

           “I’m okay, Johnny,” you whisper, closing your eyes again. You can’t really say the words above a whisper, and even then you’re mostly mouthing them, but he understands.

           He pulls back from the hug, tapping your face to get you to open your eyes. You do, giving him a strange look when he smiles.

           Mary is next to hug you and kiss your forehead before your doctor comes into the room, saying something about welcome back. You don’t really listen to him much. You stare at Sherlock, trying to wrap your head around everything, trying to remember what happened and what didn’t. The dreams you had while you were in the coma have proved to be vivid enough that you’re questioning if they were real. But one glance to your left hand confirms that they must have been just that: dreams.

           You try to hide your disappointment and shock – mostly shock because you’ve never thought about marrying anyone in your life. Not even Tony. And the two of you were pretty serious.

           You aren’t even sure why you feel disappointed. Sherlock isn’t the marrying type – you thought you weren’t either, but now you’re questioning that, too. For now, though, all you can do is take it for what you’re assuming it was. Just a dream. Nothing more.

           Natalie, your nurse, comes in a moment later to check all of your vitals while your doctor does his rounds. He said everything looked wonderful, though, and that the tests they need to run can wait until tomorrow.

           With Natalie and Mary keeping you occupied, Sherlock ushers John outside for a moment to speak with him. As soon as the door closes, Natalie smiles fondly.

           “That husband of yours is quite the character,” she remarks. “He plays the violin wonderfully. Does he play it at home, too?”

           “He…he does, yes,” you reply slowly, giving Mary a strange look.

           “Well,” Natalie breathes. “He has slept right there in that chair for a week and has only left for a shower once. I’m telling you, he is one protective man. I need to get one like him.”

           “Yeah…”

           “Well, everything looks great. You’re not in any pain, are you?”

           You shake your head.

           “Good. If you start to feel any discomfort, just press this button right here and I’ll come around. Drink a lot of water and we’ll see about getting you something to eat soon. Okay?”

           You nod.

           “I’ll be off on my rounds, then. I’m glad to see you’ve woken up. I swear all of us were getting worried for that fella of yours. Thought we were going to have to admit him for worrying so much,” she winks. “You get some rest.”

           You nod again, watching her leave. You look back to Mary, blinking slowly. This is real. You are awake now. Okay.

           “Sherlock and I… We aren’t married, are we?” You blurt.

           Mary shakes her head. “No, not at all. But they had to say you are because Sherlock wasn’t allowed to stay unless he was a family member or your spouse.”

           “Oh…okay.”

           “You weren’t in a coma for that long,” she teases. “You two didn’t elope while you were asleep.”

           You know she’s trying to joke, but you can’t. Not with the dreams you had. The first was strange, of the two of you in the woods. But the others… They were all in Baker Street. Like the two of you had gotten married. Each time the dialogue was different, but the setting was the same. The message was the same.

           “What’s wrong?”

           You shake your head, staring down at the IV in your hand. “I had a dream. A few dreams, actually.”

           “You were dreaming?”

           “Yeah, it was different each time, but the same,” you pause. “We were married,” you whisper, turning to look at her. “I’ve never thought about marriage in my life.”

           “Maybe you heard Natalie tell him he had to say he was your husband,” Mary offers with a shrug.

           “Maybe.”

~~~    

“Sherlock, what’s going on? Why did we have to come all the way out here to talk?”

           John was a little more than annoyed when Sherlock drug him out of your room, but now he’s even more annoyed because Sherlock drug him all the way outside to the balcony down the hall from your room.

           “Because I don’t want Y/N hearing this and I don’t want that guard reporting back to my brother about this, either.”

           Now Sherlock just has John worried. “What’s going on?”

           “He’s back.”

           “Who’s back?”

           Sherlock doesn’t reply. He just hands John the folded piece of paper that Mycroft gave him two days ago.

           John stares at it. His eyes don’t widen, narrow, or do anything. His jaw clenches, his mind reeling. “There’s no way,” he shakes his head, looking up at Sherlock. “I mean – how can this be possible?”

           “It can’t,” Sherlock says, keeping his eyes focused on the London sky, something he’s found himself doing a lot these days. “I watched him die. I watched him put the gun into his mouth and pull the trigger.”

           “Alright,” John clears his throat. “Alright, so what are you thinking?”

           “Gidon could’ve been an accomplice of Moriarty’s,” Sherlock mutters. “It would make sense. Y/N being thrust into our path just after my return and being targeted by an old cult leader she thought was dead. It would be the perfect way to get revenge on her and on me. Two birds with one stone.”

           “Okay, so what if he was?” John shrugs. “Mycroft told me Gidon’s dead. Took a cyanide pill.”

           “And he left that note behind,” Sherlock nods to the paper. “Why would he leave a note?”

           “It’s what people do,” John says quietly. “They leave a note.”

           Sherlock sends him a pointed, but sad, look. Sherlock’s fall will never not be a sore subject between the two men. Even in random moments when it comes to John’s mind almost unwillingly, he can’t help but still feel that same betrayal.

           “But why,” Sherlock continues. “Why would he leave a note like that? Why would he leave a note if something wasn’t meant to happen?”

           John’s eyes widen then, his eyebrows raising as he holds up the paper. “You’re saying this isn’t over?”

           “The game is never over, John.”

           “No, shut up,” John hisses. “Don’t start talking like that. What are you saying, Sherlock?”

           “I don’t think it’s over,” Sherlock admits. “Something has to be coming.”

           “Like what?”

           “I don’t know,” Sherlock sighs. “I need you to call my brother.”

           “What?” John gives him a strange look. “Why can’t you?”

           “We’re not speaking at the moment,” Sherlock says, like the fact should be obvious to John. “Tell him to check his security details,” Sherlock pauses, adding, “again,” because he’s sure his brother will assure John that the security has been checked already.

           “Okay,” John sighs. “What do you want me to do with this?” He holds up the note.

           “Keep it safe,” Sherlock says with a nod. “And I’ll do the same with her.”

#Trust #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #john watson #mary morstan #sherlock #angst #coma #waking up from a coma #finally lmao #six days later #moriarty #jim moriarty #james moriarty #i o u #half-sibling!reader #female!reader

[decembercamiecherries]

I don’t have anything specific written for Gon’s bday, but..........I can at least post this little snippet from an unpublished work of mine. Happy birthday wild child, thank you for completely uprooting my live <3

Killua blinked a few times, willing the sleep out of his eyes. Gon was still fast asleep, which was something an enigma to Killua. Gon was usually the one who got up before the crack of dawn. Killua, on the other hand, did his absolute best to never wake up before nine o’clock.

But Killua was also cursed with being a light sleeper. He couldn’t count the number of times Gon’s snoring alone had woken him up. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise that Killua was the one whose dreams had been interrupted.

It was still way too fucking early, though. And not even the fake morning rays peeking through the closed blinds of Gon’s windows was enough to cheer him up.

Killua reached up to rub his eyes, yawning. Gon’s windows? he thought to himself through the drowsiness still lingering in his mind. Was this even Gon’s room, anymore? Killua spent more nights here than he did with Alluka, after all…

Carefully Killua lifted his arms out of the sheets, moving slowly to avoid waking Gon, and settled back down with his cheek pressed against his crossed forearms. He stared at Gon for a several long moments, simply gazing at his peaceful expression.

Gon was a handsome man in many ways. The freckles sprinkled across his cheeks were charming in their inconsistency, much like Gon himself. His skin was a smooth bronze and scattered with faint scars Killua still knew nothing about. His nose was round just like his cheeks, a startling contrast to his coarse spikes of dark brown hair.

Everything about Gon radiated a certain warmth, from his smile to his dimples and the gold of his eyes. Even just watching Gon made Killua want to inch closer, to suck up that light and genuine care Gon gave out to every person he met. Gon had introduced Killua to more Hunters the past few days than Killua would ever remember, and each of them treated Gon like he was their most precious friend. How far did Gon’s influence reach, if he knew all these people?

There was no way to know. It didn’t matter much, anyway. Gon would do what Gon wanted to do because that was just who Gon was. And Killua…

And Killua liked him. For all those things, and more.

The Zoldyck slowly reached out, holding his breath, and lightly rested his hand on Gon’s jaw. He thumbed Gon’s skin as something soft and vulnerable fluttered in his chest. Gon was handsome, loved, and honest to a fault. It was a genuine mystery him how Gon could ever be interested in a broken, cold person like Killua.

A pressure started to build behind Killua’s eyes. A burning. It hurt, made Killua’s throat raw. He blinked rapidly to get rid of the stinging and tried to focus back on Gon’s face. Gon’s thick eyelashes. Gon’s perfect lips. Gon.

Gon did something to him, Killua thought as he swallowed around the lump in his throat. Gon had...completely uprooted Killua’s life. And yet, Killua never felt safer than when he was in Gon’s bed, in Gon’s arms.

Killua withdrew his hand, turning away to bury his face into his pillow. He groaned quietly against the soft cotton. Even with no one watching, the mortification that came with such tender thoughts made his skin grow hot as wax and his stomach churn. If he reacted this way now—without anyone to even hear him—would he ever be able to tell Gon that?

Killua gritted his teeth. “Stupid,” he muttered, voice muffled by the pillow. Why was he even worrying about this right now? Who knew if he’d ever want to tell Gon any of that...

“Who’s ‘tupid, Keewuah?”

Killua started. He whipped his head around, heart hammering, to find Gon’s sleepy, golden eyes trained on him.

Killua’s cheeks grew warm. “J-Jeez, Gon, don’t scare me like that!”

“‘M sorry,” Gon mumbled groggily. He rubbed one eye with the heel of his hand and the single strip of sunlight fell across his arm. Killua tried not to stare. Really, he did. But when Gon lowered is arm to turn that dazzling beam of his on Killua, he couldn’t stop a swarm of butterflies from fluttering inside his gut.

Killua shook his head, fighting down his deepening blush. “Yeah, right.” He relaxed back onto his folded arms, snuggling under the sheets a bit. “You always get a kick out of scaring me.”

Gon’s smile turned sheepish. “Only a little…”

“You really suck at lying, Gon.”

Laughter burst out of Gon. It was a musical sound, one Killua wished he could capture in a bottle and play on repeat during the days that weren’t so bright, or peaceful, as this golden morning.

Gon giggled, “I can’t help it, you make the best reactions!”

Killua rolled his eyes. He reached over to pinch Gon’s cheek, hard. He said loudly over Gon’s shrill whine, “That doesn’t mean I enjoy it, idiot!”

“Ahhh—AH, Keewuwah! That hurts—!”

Killua let Gon go with a huff. “Baby,” he said, but the insult had no bite.

He started to pull back, but Gon was quick to snag Killua’s hand. He laced their fingers together and held on tight. He lifted Killua’s knuckles to his lips and Killua sucked in a sharp breath, heart stuttering.

“Why’re you up so early?” Gon murmured against his pale skin and glanced up at Killua through his eyelashes. “You never wake up before me.”

Killua shrugged awkwardly, trying his best not to show how flustered Gon’s light kiss made him. It was kind of ridiculous how easily Gon could cause Killua’s emotions to switch from sad to irritated to melting with just a few simple motions. It took all of Killua’s willpower to keep those emotions off his face.

“Not sure,” he answered and was proud at the steadiness of his voice. Even Gon’s gentle rubbing of his calloused thumb against the back of Killua’s hand wasn’t enough to make him waver, if just barely. “I just...woke up, sort of?”

“Hmm,” Gon hummed. “And what were you doing? Just laying here? You could’ve gotten me up, too.”

“You barely get enough sleep as it is,” Killua retorted, only half joking. The dark circles under Gon’s eyes were more than enough to prove his statement correct. “And I was fine, honestly.”

Gon looked at him curiously. “Really? But, weren’t you bored?”

“No. I was—” Killua almost stopped himself, because his next words were sure to be nothing but mortifying, but he couldn’t stop now, not with those honey eyes on him, turning his insides to mush and making his heart to soar, “—I was, uh. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?” Gon repeated and Killua nodded, his head bobbing jerkily against the pillow.

“Y-Yeah. Thinking about...about you. About us.”

That caused Gon’s eyebrows to raise. “Us, huh?”

“Mhm.” Killua averted his gaze, trying to escape Gon’s intense stare. He could feel his skin darkening with a blush again and it was annoying, god, why couldn’t he stop blushing for more than five seconds?

“Were the thoughts good, at least?” Gon asked him.

“Kind of?”

“Killua.” Gon sounded amused this time. “You’re avoiding the topic.”

He reached out to brush Killua’s bangs out of his face, to idly straighten Killua’s chaotic mess of silver curls against the pillow. Killua let out a long breath at the unhurried, gentle touch. Gon was patient with him. But he requested honesty in return. And that was still something Killua was learning to give.

“They weren’t bad thoughts,” Killua finally said, after a minute of Gon’s fingers carding through his hair. “I was just...thinking how this room isn’t really yours, anymore.”

Gon laughed again and Killua’s heart lurched toward the sound. Gon was grinning widely when he said, “Yeah, you’re kind of right. That’s okay though, I like sharing a room with you!”

“Y-You don’t mind?” Killua stammered and Gon shook his head adamantly.

“‘Course not! I’d always hoped that I’d find someone I liked enough to sleep with.”

—aaaaand there it was: the overwhelming embarrassment that made Killua want to crawl under the sheets and die.

“G-Gon!” Killua sputtered, his stomach twisting into knots, but Gon simply smiled back at him. “You! You can’t—you can’t just say stuff that, I’ll explode—”

“You can’t explode from me just saying things, Killua,” Gon said, smirking, and Killua threw his pillow at Gon’s face.

“You,” he growled while Gon squawked. “Are going. To kill me.”

Gon was sniggering when he pulled the pillow off. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” He leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on Killua’s forehead. He was rolling away and swinging his legs over the side of the bed before Killua could do so much more than sputter.

“We should get breakfast!” Gon said cheerfully as he reached down to swipe his shirt off the floor. He sent a radiant smile over his shoulder at the still-frozen Killua. “Get changed, the sooner you get ready the sooner we can eat!”

Killua let out a shuddering breath, then covered his blazing face with his hands. Mornings with Gon were never boring. That much was certain.

#dc writes #killugon #hunterxhunter #killua zoldyck #gon freecss #aged up au #happy birthday gon #^-^ #I'll still post my writing here btw #just not any other posts

[moviepower]

Why do people criticize Jojo Rabbit?

We'd say that this is uncharted territory for distributor Disney, but the company did previously give us their futures face. Hmm. I saw Jojo Rabbit in the best place I could for movies, in my opinion.

For this list, we're looking at why Tyco ITTS 2019 black comedy has proven. So polarizing for critics just to clarify the critical reception thus far has been mostly positive and even watch mojo gave the film a rave review following its TIFF premiere.

Nevertheless, we can definitely see why a movie like this. Wouldn't win audiences over everywhere. Hey Joe, Joe, my old friend. Hi adults. Number 10, the controversial premise. I don't think I can do this last. Of course you can simply by reading it synopsis, you can tell why Jojo rabbit has stirred up so much controversy.

In the midst of world war II, a young German boy named Joe Joe dreams of becoming a Nazi upon learning that his mother has been harboring a Jewish girl in the attic though, Jo Jo begins to reevaluate his outlook on life. I tell them you will be in big trouble throughout this coming of age journey. Our titular character is guided by his imaginary friend.

Is it worth to watch Jojo Rabbit full movie

Who just so happens to be a flamboyantly incompetent, Adolf Hitler, as inventive as the premises, it was guaranteed to ignite passionate feelings. Critics are unsurprisingly split as to whether the film's premise is inspired or irresponsible. I wish more of our young boys had your blind fanaticism. Okay.

Number nine, how it stacks up to other satires and this world is ruined for everyone and the good earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way Jojo rabbit. Isn't the first film to satirize Hitler or Nazis 1940 twos to be, or not to be was criticized upon release for its farcical, spin of Nazi occupied Poland.

But today is viewed as a comedy classic. I know you're quite famous in London kernel. They call you concentration camp Earhart. Yes. Yes, we do the concentrating and the poles do the camping Hitler. Technically isn't the protagonist and the great dictator. It's obvious who Charlie Chaplin was parodying. We can learn more about actress playing mother Jojo on Wikipedia.

Arguably the most famous sendup of Nazi Germany is Mel Brooks. The producers. In which two con men put on an intentionally horrible musical entitled springtime for Hitler. Practically a love letter to this own run a week week. Are you kidding display? It's got the close on page four. Some critics are ready to place Jojo rabbit alongside these revolutionary respected comedy.

What do critics write in reviews about Jojo Rabbit?

Others, however, would claim that the film has more in common with the bridge sit-com Hile, honey I'm home, which was so misguided and tasteless that it only lasted one episode. Oh 10 night. You will make an schnitzel. What a joke. You must be real mad at me, honey. I'm a very, very bad Hitler. Number eight, what's going on in the real world right now?

Fuck man. The house, although world war II is in the past. The same, unfortunately can not be said about bigotry. Nowhere was this more apparent than at the 2017 unite the right rally in Charlottesville, which attracted several hate groups, including neo-Nazis. Since prejudice and discrimination remain prevalent in today's world.

It's obvious why various critics would object to a film that makes light of Nazi Germany. Nevertheless, satire can reflect modern times as well as history in ways that straightforward drama can't. Some might argue that now isn't the right time for a Nazi satire, but others would debate that society needs a movie like Jojo rabbit. A great story about the Irishman is here.

Now more than ever, you're not to nuts. Jojo, tenue kids likes dressing up in front of you. If somebody wants to be part of a club. Number seven, the humor, the best weekend ever.

Soundtrack in the highest level of production

Wow. Your enjoyment of Jojo rabbit will hinder on how hard you laugh. Or of course, if you laugh, the film didn't tickle. Roger Freedman. Funnybone who wrote in his showbiz four one, one review Jojo rabbit is actually borderline antisemitic offensive on many levels and not even funny. Sam Adams of slate couldn't have disagreed more proclaiming for Jojo rabbit comedy.

Isn't a means to minimize, but to analyze wise, to pry at the way, hateful ideologies can be embraced as a comfort and how beneath their promise to. Blame how the world really works is an understanding no more sophisticated than a child's it's time to buy some books. Since humor is subjective, we guess there isn't always going to be a clear line between what's offensively funny and what's just plain offensive.

Oh God. Number six. Jewish jokes. Did you know, Jews can Z to each other's mind. So tell us, you know, who saw one? They could look just like us of Tyco. ITT satire is clearly the Nazis. However, the director who's of Jewish and Maori heritage also pokes fun at Judaism. Hi, well, the real Jordan Rumi was horrified by the audience's reception at the screening he attended.

Writing, you have no idea how it is to be surrounded by thousands of people laughing at jokes, specifically directed at Jews. That being said, Rumi seemed to be in the minority of a group that found the film. Hilarious. As with Borat and South park, many would argue that the humor and Jojo rabbit isn't intended to mock the Jewish faith, but to criticize how ignorant and Semites are a cute number five, the life is beautiful comparison, right?

Jojo Rabbit's reaction to mom's death

Yeah. Critics have stocked a Jojo rabbit up against numerous other films. But life is beautiful. Seems to be the one that's invited the most comparisons this 1997, Italian dromedy also presented world war II through a lighthearted lens, centering on a Jewish man who uses humor and imagination to shield his son from the horrors of the Holocaust. It's interesting what they write about this movie on Amazon.

Well, the film won an Academy award for best foreign language film, and even got nominated for best picture. There were those who found the movies comedic tone, inappropriate. Over two decades later, we will continue to debate if the movie is a life affirming fable or a dated misfire. It's actually eerie how much these two films have in common, especially since both one TIFs peoples choice award.

That is the strongest thing in the world. Number four, is it shocking enough? I was your age. I had an imaginary friend come in so much stuff even before the first trailer dropped Jojo rabbit was being built up as one of 20 nineteens most controversial movies. Weirdly enough though, some critics have expressed disappointment that the film isn't more shocking.

Well, audiences have arguably gotten more sensitive with time. There are still patrons who crave comedy that pushes the envelope to its limits. It's time to burn some books. Brian Talarico of the Chicago sun times felt Jojo rabbit played it too safe. Writing the final scenes of Jojo rabbit are too easy for a film that needs to be dangerous and daring. 

Are the best scenes already included in the trailer?

Even if the film doesn't go all out with its edgy concept. Seeing Tyco, ITT dresses, Adolf Hitler will be more than enough to make a few jobs drop. What am I going to do? No idea. Going down the house in Glen Winston church one, negotiate number three. It's depiction of Nazis. The playlist Charles romesco took issue with the films, humanization of antisemites writing.

YTT concedes that a good percentage of Nazis really do hold hate in their heart. But maintains that at least some of them aren't you two seem to be getting on. Well, it doesn't seem like a bad cost. How much pain and suffering the Nazis caused many audiences will understandably struggle with this message.

However, if Ron Jones proved anything with his third wave social experiment in 1967, it's that even ordinary people can get swept up in the dangerous ideals of fascism. Likewise, Jojo rabbit poses, a challenging question. If we're not willing to acknowledge the bad and the good in people, how can we ever rid ourselves of prejudice?

Nothing makes sense anymore. Yeah, I know. It's definitely not a good time to be a Nazi. Number two it's message. And mother took me. She's kind me like a person, whatever your thoughts on Jojo rabbit, Tyco ITT clearly wanted to spread an anti hate message. YTT also claims that he started writing the screenplay before Nazis regained relevance in the media.

There's little doubt that why TTS intent was noble, whether or not the final product successfully gets his message across is where critics are split. A doubt of the a V club felt that making fun of Nazi Germany had been done before. Thus taking away from the movies, broader anti hate theme. Peter Howell begged to differ in his Toronto star review writing Taika YTT knocks it out of deer park with the meaningful lunacy of his anti hate satire, which is equal parts.

Adolf Hitler's thread in the movie

Mel Brooks, West Henderson, and  own whimsical brilliance growing up too fast. Ten-year-olds and the celebrating war and talking politics. Before we continue, be sure to subscribe to our channel and ring the bell to get notified a better latest videos. You'll have the option to be notified for occasional videos or all of them.

If you're on your phone, make sure you go into your settings and switch on notifications. Number one it's depiction of Hitler. Well, they call me a scared rabbits. Okay. Let's address the giant rabbit in the room. Tyco YTT spends most of his screen time prancing around in a Nazi uniform and toothbrush mustache. If you want, you can read here about preparations for making a movie and other curiosities.

Without a doubt, YTT, didn't set out to deliver a serious or dignified portrayal of Hitler. Rather YTT aspired to make the fewer look as goofy and idiotic as possible. Oh, . Just painting Hitler as a wacky, even likable buffoon desensitized us to the atrocities. He committed though. Some may say yes while others may argue that it leaves audiences more informed and open-minded.

At the end of the day, everyone is going to have a different opinion of Jojo. Let them say whatever they want. People used to say a lot of nasty things about me. Oh, this guy's a lunatic. Oh, look at that psycho. He's going to get us all killed. Do you agree with our picks, check out this other recent clip from watch mojo and be sure to subscribe and ring the bell to be notified about our latest videos.

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