#❛ memes ━━ i can even turn to ghost they don't need to be in death.

[starry-bi-sky]

danyal al ghul memes because i don't think i've done those yet for this au.

(the jason one is in reference to the fanon headcanon/au that Jason and Damian potentially knew each other and interacted while jason was in the league. I've thought about it before in context of this au, but haven't thought about it enough to feel inspired or motivated to make a post exploring the idea)

(diablito means, as you can guess, 'little devil'. while i'm neutral to latino jason, i think the nickname is cute as fuck and was danny's main nickname from Jason. i don't wanna touch that timeline so im not gonna decide how old they were when Jason was there.)

Skulker: i am the ghost zone's greatest hunter! i capture and hunt creatures both rare and dangerous. Danyal: a poacher?? you're a poacher?? you poach animals??Skulker:...i sense i've made a mistake of some kind.

anyways that was the day that Skulker cemented himself as Danny's no.1 opp, and still remains there to this day even if he and Vlad are both viciously fighting for second. Out of everyone in the the AP rogues gallery, Skulker will be the first to be thrown under the bus in terms of 'o shit here comes phantom fucking RUN'.

[thuganomxcs]

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…

I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !

You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Wildflowers Grow in Ruins

(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)

Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.

Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.

A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.

Wars are exhausting. 

You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.

But waging a war against yourself… 

Now that is pure hell. 

It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.

But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.

He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.

But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.

Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.

The day has finally come to let him go.

You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.

But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.

Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 

You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.

But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.

So why is it so hard to let go?

The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 

And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.

You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.

Good. 

Good.

Great.

You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.

The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 

It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.

Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?

The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.

"I need to talk to you." 

Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.

He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.

"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 

This should be easy…

It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.

"I think we should go separate ways."

The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.

"Ok."

It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 

"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.

He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.

"Is it because of my work?" 

"No."

"What is it then?"

Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.

Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.

"Hey. Hey."

He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 

"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"

His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?

His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.

And he must hate weakness.

"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 

It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.

"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?

"What do you mean?"

He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.

"Have you found someone else?"

What the…

"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"

He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 

"I'm just…" 

Jesus, this is just humiliating. 

"I'm just not your type."

"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 

He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 

Losing you.

"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."

"It's not that. You don't understand–" 

"Try me."

"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"

"Stop right there."

The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.

"Bloody fucking hell…" 

He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 

And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Yes."

"This is the reason you wanna break up?"

Ugh.

"Yes?"

His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 

But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.

"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"

"I don't know." 

"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"

"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 

"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."

He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.

"Can I touch you?"

You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.

"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.

"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…

"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"

Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.

"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.

"Then why do you think you're not my type?"

"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.

"That for sure ain't true."

"But it is."

He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.

"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 

"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"

It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.

"No…?"

"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"

"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.

"No, I don't think I will."

He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.

"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"

You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 

It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.

"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."

"Simon–"

"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"

He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 

"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."

For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?

"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.

"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."

You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.

"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."

You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.

"Then let me help you."

The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.

"You don't even let me touch you anymore."

It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.

"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."

Oh my God…

Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 

That would explain why he has avoided you too…

He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 

Jesus fucking Christ.

"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."

"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 

He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 

Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.

"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."

Oh God–

"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."

"Hmh…"

"Don't wanna live without that smile."

You don't have to. 

God, you don't have to…

"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.

"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"

"...Ok." 

He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.

"Come on. Make me believe it."

"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.

"That's my girl."

Oh fuck…

He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 

And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?

The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.

"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."

He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.

He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.

He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 

No one can fake such fervor.

You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.

"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."

You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.

"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"

"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."

He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.

"Yeah…?"

"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."

His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.

"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."

"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.

"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."

If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.

"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.

"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 

"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."

Wow… He is a bit pissed.

Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 

It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 

"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 

Whoa. 

Ok…

First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.

You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.

Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…

There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.

"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"

"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 

Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.

He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.

Oh f–

"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 

"Uh–...."

Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 

"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."

"Oh god…"

There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.

"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 

You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.

"Simon–"

His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.

"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."

You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 

You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.

"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."

He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.

"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."

The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.

"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"

"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 

"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."

Shit…

"I, I'm gonna…"

Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.

He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.

Fucking bastard…

Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 

You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.

His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 

Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.

"Jesus Christ…" 

He sounds dazed. 

Relieved. 

"Should've done this weeks ago."

You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.

"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 

"Yeah. You should have."

"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.

"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."

He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 

The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…

And love.

[soulprompts]

HEROIC INTERVENTION. ( A PROMPT LIST! )

so i was writing this headcanon for one of my characters, and it got me thinking about how some characters are absolutely, to their very core, protectors, and even then they still need protecting! so i made this list which is similar to about five other memes i've made. feel free to add a "reverse" if you so wish! DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST NOR CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN. THANK YOU.

FROM THE SENDER TO THE THREAT:

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " is there a problem over here? "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " can i help you with something? "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i think it's time you were leaving. "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " why don't you and i go outside for a sec? "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " you wanna tell me why you're hassling my friend? "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " you better start running before i really get pissed. "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i'm sure there's a rational explanation behind you upsetting this person? "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i hope you're not thinking of staying here a moment longer. "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " get out. "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " right, either you leave or i kick you out. your choice. "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " i think it's fairly obvious my friend doesn't want anything to do with you, don't you? "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " leave them alone. now. "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " didn't you hear them? back off! "

[ TO THE THREAT ]: " don't even think of pretending you didn't hear me the first time: leave! "

FROM THE SENDER TO THE RECEIVER:

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " hey, are you okay? "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " don't worry. i'll take care of this. "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " why don't you go on out back? i got this, it's okay. "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " here. you go on into the car, alright? i'm right behind you. "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " is this person bothering you? "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " it's okay. hey, hey… look at me. they're gone. "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " hey… what's going on? what's wrong? i… has this person said something to you? "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " it's alright. the others just went out to the car; why don't you join them? i'll handle this. "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " hey, hey… talk to me, huh? what's the matter? you look like you've seen a ghost… who was that? "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " don't be scared. i'm going to take care of this. i promise. "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " you don't need to say anything. just nod if you want me to kick them out, okay? "

[ TO THE RECEIVER ]: " you're alright. i'm right here, don't worry. and they'll be gone before you can blink, that's another promise. "

ACTIONS:

[ HAND ]: sender, having seen the receiver's encounter with the threat, gently takes the receiver's hand to assure them they aren't alone.

[ INTERVENE ]: sender wordlessly steps in between the receiver and the threat, facing the threat while shielding the receiver from them.

[ BLOCK ]: sender steps in between the receiver and the threat, this time facing the receiver while turning their back to the threat and blocking them from the receiver's line of sight.

[ BACK ]: sender places a protective and gentle hand on the receiver's back, preparing to guide them away from the threat.

[ DOOR ]: sender firmly but politely insists that the threat leave the building, and escorts them out of the door.

[ EXIT ]: sender physically catches hold of the threat and drags them away from the receiver, and outside of the building.

[ PUSH ]: sender places a careful hand on the threat to keep them at arm's length, and steps forward again to give the receiver more space between them and the threat.

[ SHOVE ]: sender runs over and forcefully shoves the threat back and away from the receiver.

[ SPACE ]: sender pushes between the receiver and the threat and begins to move forward, invading the threat's personal space as both a means of intimidation and a way of getting them away from the receiver.

[ DIVERT ]: sender arrives behind the threat and gains their attention, distracting them from the receiver so as to give them time to leave the area.

[ CLEAR ]: the sender firmly and clearly tells the threat that they are no longer allowed in the premises nor anywhere near the receiver.

[ ARM ]: sender wraps a protective arm around the receiver and guides them away from the threat and out of the premises.

[ PUNCH ]: the sender, having seen the receiver's reaction to the threat and the threat's lack of consideration, moves forward and punches the threat in the face.

[rainybubbles]

How do you accidentally confess to COD men ?

Soap, Ghost, Alejandro, Gaz, König, Alex, Price

(Sorry in advance for my mistakes, English is not my mother tongue. So sorry if it's badly written)

S O A P :

-"I can't lose you, Soap. Shit, you're important to me," you say while crying.

-"...I'm flattered, but can you focus on fixing my leg first?" he says.

-You blinked awkwardly.

-Let's start over and try to understand this, shall we?

-Well, you were a nurse working on a military base.

-When all the doctors asked you to wake up at 3 AM, you knew something had happened. You ran to the infirmary and saw Soap.

-He was heavily injured.

-Your heart skipped a beat.

-You and Soap had known each other since his enlistment.

- You were just an apprentice nurse, and he was a cadet. He always burnt something, and you were there to look after him, even when he accidentally burnt the ass of his sergeant.

-You had a crush on him since that time, but you decided a long time ago not to act on it.

- Soap was clearly not interested in you, and he had gone out with a lot of people.

-You can definitely say you're not his type at all, and you like your bond the way it is.

-But now, seeing him like this, it was different. Your heart was overwhelmed, and your mouth spoke before you could filter what you said.

-"I can't lose you, Soap. Shit, you're important to me," you say while crying.

-"...I'm flattered, but can you focus on fixing my leg first?" he says.

-You blinked awkwardly.

-"Yes, I'm sorry. I'm not ethical at all. You need help, and I'm talking nonsense."

-You helped the doctors and quickly went outside when you finished, in order to think about what had just happened.

-"Shit, it was so awkward. I really thought we were in a movie or something," you said, angry at yourself.

-"Well, honestly, it was fun to see you like that. I mean, it could have been the climax of a movie if Ghost had started to play the violin, and a slow-mo started on your face," a voice joked.

-You turned around and saw Soap.

-"You're supposed to lay down. You can't walk."

-"What can I say? Seeing you make miracles," he says with a smirk.

-You sighed and walked towards him, offering your arms to lead him to a bed. He smiled.

-"I'm sorry for what happened. I shouldn't have said that," you said.

-"But you mean it?"

-"That's not the point. It was not the moment, and I know the answer. It was just cringe."

-"...damn, loving me is cringe?" Soap said teasing you.

-"That's- you know that's not what I mean."

-"Yes, I know. I feel the same, by the way."

-"But you..."

-"It's been three months, I realize. I know it's longer for you."

-"You noticed," you realized, all these years thinking you were good at hiding it were in fact obvious to him.

-"Yes, but you decided not to tell anything, so I never acted on it. But I...I feel the same now, and you almost confessed, so can you give me a chance?"

-"You mean when you can take me on a date and not bleed to death?" you said, looking at his injuries.

-"Yes," he chuckled.

-"Okay," you whispered, scared that it was a dream.

-"Okay," he repeated with a smile.

G H O S T :

-"WHAT DO I DO NOW ?!" you screamed and looked at your friend.

-"Just...explain to him."

-"Oh yeah and how do you explain why I send him a fucking eggplant emoji at 4 AM without anything ?" you screamed panicked

-"Tell him the truth." your friend casually says.

-"He won't believe me. Like 'hey I sent you this emoji not because I want to fuck you, but because my brother sent me a lot of memes with eggplant so every night we sent this emoji to each other laughing. And I made a mistake and sent this to you, not him. Nobody does that. He won't believe me." you sigh."Oh fuck, he rode the text."

-"Well...he's your crush no ? I mean you talk about him often so if anything happens it could be good."

-"Yes he is, but I don't want to confess, not now. Fuck, I only met him like three times and only thanks to Soap. We're just acquaintance. I only have his number because I'm Soap's emergency contact."

-"And now he thinks you want to fuck him." your friends resumes

-"Thanks for your help." you say sarcastically."Shit he's writing, what would he say ?"

-"Well I bet on a peach emoji."

-You looked at your friend and showed them your middle finger.

-"What if I make things awkward and-"

-"You are always awkward."your friend interrupts you.

-"...thanks for your support." you said ironically.

-"I mean the worst is that he says no and when you'll meet again the only thing he remembers will be this fucking emoji. That's fine."your friend says.

-"No. I don't want to be the eggplant emoji in his mind."

-"It's too late."

-A ring interrupted your conversation.

-"It's him." you said looking at your notification.

-"And ?"

-"He sent a comma."

-"A comma?" your friend asks lost

-"Yes."

-"what does it mean ?"

-"I DON'T KNOW ! Does it mean he stops to breathe, or I should breathe or-"

-"Or he made a mistake and typed wrong."

-"No, he's good with his hands."

-"I don't want to know how you know that." your friend says looking at you

-"...I wasn't implying anything weird. He's a fucking military." you answered.

-"Ok. So what do you do ?"

-"I could send a comma too ?"

-"Yay revise your punctuations with Y/N and Ghost." your friend says ironically.

-"I...oh fuck, he sent another text."

-"And ?" your friend asks

-"Does the eggplant be used to convey a desire to meet me or is it some weird shit like Soap does usually,"you read out loud his text

-"he texts like a grandpa." your friend comments

-"Fuck you." you say.

-"Calm down, I'm just saying the truth. You should answer it's because you want him."

-"No way, I told you we're acquaintances. I have a crush yes, but we don't know each other well and I-"

-Ting.

-Another text from him.

-"Because it's okay in both cases." he texted you.

-"Oh fuck." you say with your eyes widen.

-"You can say that again !" your friend laughs.

A L E J A N D R O :

-Being a soldier means living in a community. And even if sometimes you're lucky and have your own little room, it's obviously not a hotel.

-So when Alejandro was doing a patrol to check everyone was asleep, he didn't expect to overhear you.

- But it was normal, the walls were thin and he could hear Rudy's snore from here.

-So yes, he heard you talking in your sleep.

-Except it was a fever dream you were having, and it was his name you were whispering.

-He froze.

-He didn't want to intrude, so he stepped back, but it was too late.

- He heard you clearly because of those thin walls.

-The next morning, when all his soldiers were eating together and you were present he couldn't stop looking at you. He didn't know what to do.

-He was not a moron, and he didn't want to confront you about that, but keeping this silent was also horrible.

-"Everything is good, Ale?" Rudy asks.

-"...I overheard something."

-"Let me guess, two soldiers making out? It's like the fourth time this week. Are they rabbits or what?" Rudy sighs at the new cadets.

-"No, it was not two soldiers," Alejandro answers.

-"Oh." Rudy realizes, "oh. Well...it's also common to do it solo. Why are you making this a big deal?"

-"Because they say my name."

-Rudy chokes on his bread and starts laughing.

-"Why do you find this funny?" Alejandro whispers angrily.

-"Because you seem all flustered. You're usually a smooth talker, but you seem so shy about it. It's not the first time a soldier has a crush on you, Alejandro."

-"I know, but it's different."

-"And why is it different?"

-"It's them."

-Rudy smirks.

-"I see."

-"But I can't say I overheard them, but I want to tell them I feel the same. How do I do this when all I could think when I see them is this memory?"

-"Be honest, you don't know how to lie. You're an honest man, Alejandro."

-"You're right, I have to tell them," Alejandro says. He's brave, he can do that.

-"They're coming, good luck," Rudy says and winks.

-You sit at your usual place, greeting everyone, and look at Alejandro.

-"Is everything okay?" you ask him when you notice his expression.

-"I overheard you," he says blankly out of nowhere.

"...can you be more clear, because I have no idea what you're talking about?" you say lost.

-"Last night, I was checking if everyone was asleep and I overheard you saying my name in a feverish dream."

-You raise your eyebrows and smirk.

-"Is that so?"

-He notices the smirk.

-"Why are you smirking?"

-"Because I was on cleaning duty this night; it's Mina who was in my room."

-"Oh."

-"Yes. I guess you have to talk to her," you say.

-"You're right. Sorry, I didn't know."

-"That's okay, but if I may ask, what were you planning to do after telling me this?" you tease him.

He notices your playful tone and smirks back.

-"That you don't need to dream, you can have me in real life."

-"Smooth, really smooth, Alejandro."

He smiles.

-"So it's a yes?"

-"Yes, but you still have to talk to Mina. I wasn't joking; it was her in my room last night."

G A Z :

-It was a night mission.

-You were waiting with the 141 for the order to go.

-It's been hours since you were waiting, and you knew after this mission you probably couldn't see the 141 again.

-Because you were in a different unit, and your collaboration was only for this mission.

-So you knew it was probably the moment to shoot your shot with Gaz.

-You inhale and go to his figure lying in the dark.

- "Gaz, I know we get along with each other. I can't count how many nights we spent just talking to each other on the base or even how many times we laugh together.I...I'm interested in you in more of a friend way. I know it's horrible to say that now, but afterward, it will be too late. So yeah." You say.

-Silence.

-You only hear silence as the figure doesn't move.

-You feel your heart aching.

-Shit, is he rejecting you in silence without saying anything?

-You look at the ground.

-"I think you should activate your vision nocturne, soldier. Gaz is at your right."

-Shit.

-Shit, shit, shit.

- You open your eyes wide.

-You...you just confessed to Price thinking it was fucking Gaz.

-"Shit, I'm so so so sorry. I didn't mean that obviously. I-"

-"Calm down, soldier. And go talk to him. We still have time here, but look at who you're talking to." Price teases you.

-You nod and walk towards Gaz ashamed.

- "Are you okay?" Gaz asks.

-"I just made the worst mistake of my life."

-"What did you say? Did you say to Price he had a nice ass or what?" Gaz jokes to light up the mood.

- You stay silent.

-Gaz opens his mouth. "No, you-"

-"It wasn't his ass. But yeah, I basically confessed to him, because I mistook him for someone else. ?Because obviously in the dark without night vision you can't see anything."

-Gaz laughs.

-"Stop laughing, it's horrible. I'm the worst, he probably will report me."

-"No, he knew it wasn't for him, didn't he ?"

- "Yes, but it...I'm feeling so ashamed."

-"With who do you think mistake him for?" Gaz asks.

-"I don't answer that question. I have made enough confessions for today."

-"Come on, tell me."

-"Nope."

-"Let me guess then."

-"We're only five here, I don't want to let you guess."

-"Soap?"

-"Gaz, I said no."

-"Because if it's him, I don't think he-"

-"You. It was you." You say to shut him up. "Happy, now?"

-He stays silent. You look at him.

-"Yes," he says, smiling. "Even though I'm jealous that Price got the whole speech, it felt like I'm only having the crumbs." He teases you.

-"Shut up," you smile.

-"But I'm happy, I feel the same."

-"Good, because I have enough rejection for today."

-"Ohhhh, Price's rejection is not a good experience?" He jokes.

-"I could never again look at him in the eyes," you say.

K Ö N I G :

-"I thought you were just getting to know him," Soap says.

-"Yes. And that's why I was doing."

-"So could you explain how König ended up with his vest burnt if you were just talking ?" Gaz says skeptical.

-"I...well I was lighting the vanilla candle and he was here, with his eyes and I-"

-"You were checking him out and didn't pay attention to the matchstick, isn't it ?" Soap asks.

-"I was absorbed by his eyes ! They're like so beautiful and he was so close, I-"

-"You burnt his vest." Gaz says.

-"Thanks for the reminder, Gaz. I know now my chances are ruined with him. Shit. The worst is that I can't tell him why I accidentally burnt his vest, so now he thinks I hate him."

-"Well you could find an excuse." Soap says.

-"What excuse could explain a burnt vest, Mr. explosion ?" you asked.

-"You wanted to test if his vest was fireproof." Soap tried

-"..." you said.

-"..." Gaz said.

-Soap sighed.

-"Ok it's not a good one. But I'm trying to help, okay ?"

-"I have to tell him the truth. I don't want him to think I hate him. He's so gentle with us."

-"He's here. Go !" Gaz said as he pushed you.

-You opened your eyes wide. You didn't expect you would have to do that so soon.

-You walked anxiously towards him.

-When he saw you, he stepped back a little.

-It hurt you, but it was fair after the incident.

-"Hey, König, I- I wanted to explain what happened."

-He looked at you and just nodded, waiting for your explanation.

-"In fact I burnt your vest because I was admiring your eyes.I was gazing at you. And I didn't concentrate at all on the candle and I let the matchstick fall. I'm sorry."

-He opened his mouth. He didn't know what to say.

-"I- you were gazing at me ?"

-"Yes, I find you beautiful. But it's not an excuse for what happened. I should have paid more attention to the candle" you said honestly.

-"Thanks for the compliment and the apology"

-"I hope that you don't have any grudges, or you don't think I hate you. I wanted to make it clear."

-"Oh no, well, I know it was an accident. You seem..." he stopped himself to find the right word to described how much you were screaming and scared "terrified ?"

-"Yes." you confirmed.

-"So I knew it was not intentional, but I didn't understand why. But now I know."

-"Cool, so we're okay ?" you asked.

-"You don't want to know ?"

-"Know what ?"

-"If I find you beautiful too ? If I'm gazing at you sometimes ?"

-"Oh, no. I mean I didn't expect anything, so don't feel pressured or anything and-"

-"Because I do." he interrupts you.

-"Oh."

-"Yes."

-"So if I ask you on a date ?"

-"Yes."

-"Cool, cool, cool," you said anxiously but happy

-"Tonight ?" he asked.

-"YES ! I mean, yes of course."

-He smiled under his mask and left. You walked back to Soap and Gaz.

-"So ?" Gaz asked.

-"I have a date."

-"WHAT ?" Gaz said.

-" WHY DID Y/N HAVE A DATE WHEN THEY PUT HIM ON A FIRE AND I CAN'T EVEN HAVE ONE ?!" Soap whined

-You laughed. You didn't know why, but you definitely knew you were lucky he said yes.

A L E X :

-You were a barista at a coffee shop. You were taking Alex's order as usual, since he was a regular when your colleague interrupted you.

-"I prepared the order of the regular hottie you were talking about."

-You looked up at Alex.

-You looked at your colleague.

-He opened his eyes wide.

-"Oh shit" your colleague said.

-"I'm sorry Alex." You said, "This one is on the house and the next time my colleague will serve you. Sorry again." You gave him his coffee and left in the backs now not only your chances were ruined, but you could be possibly fired.

-Shit, it was unprofessional to talk with your colleagues about your crushes on some clients.

-But this was worst because the said client knew that now.

-He knew he was the hottie.

-"Hey", your colleague said after few minutes "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

-"That's okay you couldn't guess he was here. In fact you could because it was his order, but yeah..."

-"But I'm happy."

-"Happy ?" you said a little angry by his remarks now.

-"He let you that." he said giving you a paper.

-"What..." you took the paper and saw a number :"glad to be called a hottie by a hottie, call me."

-"oh wow"

-"It's like a romantic movie !"

-"Absolutely not."

-"YESSSSSSSS" your colleague teased you.

-"I'm just glad to not be fired right now."

P R I C E :

-You were an interpreter. During a long, boring brief, you were chatting with Gaz.

-"Nikolai, Lasswell, Price. Kiss, marry, kill," he says.

-"Lasswell is married, Gaz." you answer.

-"Then Ghost."

-"I kill Nikolai."

-"You dare to kill him!" Gaz says shocked.

-"I mean, I like him. He's a good guy, but I don't know him well. So yes, kill him, kiss Ghost, and marry Price."

-"Your judgment is so biased," Gaz says laughing.

-"Biased?"

-"You only marry Price because you like him."

-"Yeah, that's the point of the game. It's based on preferences, Gaz," you say.

-He smiles.

-"You don't deny what I say."

-"It's because that's obvious, I have a thing for him. Plus, everybody knows Price is like the perfect husband material."

-"Hmm, thanks for your comment," a voice says.

-You and Gaz look at each other.

-The whole room is staring at you.

-Lasswell points the microphone at your right, which is still on.

-"Fuck," you say and your voice echoes throughout the room.

-"Sorry about that," Gaz says, and he switches off the microphone.

-"We are so dead," Gaz says.

-"I am so dead, you mean. I'm surprised if they don't replace me with another interpreter at the end of the day."

-The meeting ends, but as Gaz and you are leaving, you hear Price calling you.

-You hesitate but walk towards him.

-"You know what I'm about to say."

-"Yes, Sir, it was inappropriate, and we should have paid attention to the brief. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. As you can guess, my goal was not to let this slip," you answer.

-Price nods.

-"Good. You can leave."

-You leave the room.

-You thought it was the end, Price clearly rejects you.

-Yet a few weeks later, when the mission ended, Price approached you.

-You were sitting at the bar with the 141 celebrating the success.

-"So you're not working with us anymore," he said.

-"Yeah, that's the end of my mission." You answered, smiling.

-"So it's not inappropriate if I ask you on a date?"

-"A date? Wait, you-"

-"I keep my work and personal life separated."

-"Shit, so if you didn't say anything, it was because we were colleagues."

-"And because it was fun to see you defeated," he chuckles.

-"You're mean." You laugh. "But that's a yes."

If you want more my Call of Duty masterlist : here

My masterlist : here

[dxrksong]

Jason 13 au memes part two

Bruce: *slams a door on accident*

Batfam: you slam door on Brood? YOU SLAM DOOR ON BROOD LIKE GROUNDINGS???! OH!! OH JAIL FOR FATHER!!! JAIL FOR FATHER FOR 1000 YEARS!!!!

Jason 13, calling Danny on speed dial: JAIL FOR FATHER!!!!

-----------

Kitty:

Jason:

Kitty: YOU DIDN'T TELL ME YOU WERE BUILT LIKE A BRICK HOUSE!!!!!

Jason: to be fair, I forgot???

Kitty: speaking of which, hows that going out for you?

Jason: it's been....emotional.....not to mention the whord of shades trying to mother hen me 24/7

Kitty: I've been meaning to ask you about those.

Jason: I thought you wanted to talk about our relationship?

Kitty: we have communication rings, we can do that later. I'm more worried about the tall intimidating city spirit behind you.

Jason: oh that's just Gotham

Kitty:

Gotham: *tall black lady that can kick your ass* ;)

Kitty, sweating:

Jason: don't worry, she's nice. She's just a litte over protective of her kids.

Kitty: there's MORE of you????

----------

Kitty:

The batfam:

Kitty, surrounded by baby ghost cores like stray kittens: I don't know what's worse. How much they look like you or the inane urge to just adopt them all, oh nooooooooooo!!

Jason: now you know how it feels old man.

Bruce: *confused in bat*

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

Kitty:

Catwoman:

Kitty: crimes?

CatWoman: hell yes, kitten!

[LATER]

Jason: WHO THE FUCK DYED MY SUIT PINK?!?!?!

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

Kitty: you know considering my name it's a little odd that you're the one being all cat like.

Jason, laying his head on her lap while she cards through his hair: shut uuup, it's not like I can ask anyone else for attention like this. It'd be weeeeiiiird.

Kitty: *sighs* better hope you didn't leave your comm on.

Jason:

Kitty: Johnny.

Jason: I can't remember if I turned it off or not

Dick: you know little wing, if you wanted attention you could've just asked-

Jason: SHIT!!!!!!

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

Spectra: so are you still dating him or..?

Kitty: you know? We died basically around the same time and we were introduced to each other first before anyone else, so we kinda just stuck together. And really everyone had kinda just started calling us boyfriend and girlfriend, and we just didn't think otherwise to correct them.

Ember: wait, so you two HAVEN'T been dating??

Kitty: it was never official, if anything it was an ongoing bet to see how long it would last before people started to notice. We're more like.....siblings but not quite. Or emotional support ghosts for each other.

Spectra: that....actually makes a lot of sense. You two are hardly seen without the other and you haven't exactly been dead for long, so it would make sense you're still settling down from the trauma of dying.

Kitty: did you just psychoanalise me?!

Spectra: You basically gave it to me on a silver platter!! It's a force of habit!!!

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

Jason: hey squishy

Blob ghost in Johnny 13's bike: ?

Jason: think you can get this blob ghost out of my corpse-

Squishy: *Rev's backwards out of the bat cave*

Jason: ouch! Not even my own pet will help a zombie out.

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

Danny: so how you feelin Jason?

Jason, sarcastically: oh just great, I've only had ONE murderous breakdown this week due to Zom!

Danny: Zom????

Jason: the blob ghost possessing me.

Danny: You named it????!

Jason: WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!?! IT'S A FREAKING BLOB GHOST, IT'S NOT LIKE IT HAD A NAME BEFORE!!!!!

Danny:

Jason:

Danny: I'm telling frostbite-

Jason: Don't you DARE!

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

Dick: Hey, Jason? Can you come over? I need your help.

Jason, muffled by a humming noise: sorry, I don't think that'll be possible at the moment?

Dick: what do you mean by that Jay, and what is that sound?

Jason, swallowed into the shadows and getting fussed over by the shades: would you believe me if I said I got readopted by shades?

Dick: U Wot?

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

Batman: Jason, what's this about shades adopting you??

Jason: look I didn't ask for it, it just happened.

Bruce: and are they....good? Parents?

Jason: well they like putting me in shadow jail alot.

Batman: Shadow jail?????

Jason: not to mention the constant babying-

Bruce: WHAT?!?!

Jason: ?! Jeez Bruce!! Wha-

Bruce: YOU LET THEM BABY YOU?!?!?!

Jason:

Bruce: I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT SINCE THE FIGHTING STARTED!!!!

Jason: .....are-are you JEALOUS?!

Bruce:

Bruce >:'(

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

Dick: ok, so to recap! *pulls out a projector and a Google slide document*

Dick: Jason got reanimated by something going awry and messing with reality, accidentally reviving Jason. *click* He gets scooped up by Talia and revives him fully. *click* this leaves him with powers and uncontrollable emotional problems *click* apparently he can talk to ghosts and they are often friendly to him back. *click* so much so, according to Jason himself, he has been adopted by the entirety of the ghost population in Gotham *click* including the SPIRIT of Gotham herself.

*it's a vague drawing of what Gotham looks like*

Dick: any questions?

Tim: yeah, uh. Who's that?

Danny: hi! :D

Dick: no clue, next question!

Danny: I'm phantom! I used to beat Jason up when he used to go by Johnny 13!

Batfam:

Cass: does the Lazarus pit taste like lemonade?

Dick: no, it tastes more like sprite.

Duke: wait-how do you-

Dick: NEXT QUESTION!

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

Jason, 'living on his own':

The Shades: :)

Squishy: :)

Gotham sometimes: :)

Kitty: :P

Danny: >:)

The various bird and/or bat: :)

Damien: :

Ember: lmao I'm the older one now! >:D

Spectra: (usually only when Kitty shows up)

Skulker: (target practice training) >:)

Technus: (built Johnny's bike believe it or not) >:)

The box ghost: (this man has dad energy, change my mind) >:)c

The lunch lady: (every growing ghost needs proper calories!) :)

Jason: ...............I need a bigger house....

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

Batman steps into the batcave to see green fire everywhere, Jason in his ghost form, and Damien trying to stab him with a sword.

Damien: it was Todd's idea!

Jason: Damien, you fucking snitch!

Batman: language!

Damien: yeah Hood, watch your fucking language!

Batman: DAMIEN!

(Reference to this)

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

Jason: remind me why you're here again?

Danny: what? Like I can't visit my favorite Rouge?

Jason: I thought that was plasmius?

Danny: he's my arch nemesis, not a rouge! He doesn't count!

Jason: if you say so. But why am I your favorite, and I'm pretty sure I no longer qualify to be one of your rouges?

Danny: dude you're the only one I can have a serious conversation about! Vlad's a fruitloop!!

Jason: yeah but at least he knows what he's taking about half the time.

Danny: psh. 'Half the time'

Danny:

Danny: you can still turn into Johnny, right?

Jason: I mean if I concentrate real hard I guess? But it'll take a lot of energy.

Danny: wanna convince Vlad he's going insane?

Jason: only if I can record it.

Danny: DEAL!

[inspirationalucky]

Disney Princess Villain Songs

[ PART 1 / 2 ] a collection of sentence prompts / rp memes inspired by lydia the bard's disney princess villain songs. please don't add more prompts/memes to this list, definitely change pronouns, names, etc. as necessary for the situation! part two.

Tale as Old as Time (Belle's Villain Song)

"It's your final page."

"You see in this world, we're merely players."

"The truth is I'm the beauty, you're the beast"

"You thought we're a match. Sweetheart, I am far smarter than that"

"There is no one living that can challenge me"

"You're unworthy."

"What a genius plan! Truly, did you think this through?"

"I let you all believe I would go quietly while I sat and planned my hand"

"I have not spent my life reading books, my hours studying, to be some desperate prince's lonely wife"

"Wanna lock me away? Well, by all means, have your fun with that"

"I will be the author of my life"

"You're all idiots for thinking that you'd really make it out of this alive"

"You are nothing but a monster to me"

"You're not worth my pity"

"Not even one of you is a rival to what I can do"

"Don't you get it? This is my design"

"I've made all my moves"

Journey to the Past (Anastasia's Villain Song)

"Your new queen is speaking"

"A new age is finally here"

"Yes, the rumor's true!"

"Bow down now or live in fear"

"Starting now you finish last"

"You stole my family and my past"

"There's a debt that's owed. Justice to deliver."

"You'll be forced to right this wrong"

"This ghost's been here all along"

"Thought I'd found them, but then, how was I to know?"

"It's a lie, they just abandon you and go"

"I will never be complete until I find you"

"Now you understand!"

"You're the special few blessed to join my table"

"You're my brand new family now"

"Justice will be mine, I'll have vengeance for my past"

Almost There (Tiana's Villain Song)

"[ Tia! ] What have you done?"

"[ Tia ], you need to snap out of it!"

"I remember when you told me all our dreams are coming true"

"Dreams like that? They don't come for free."

"Didn't think I'd have to stand and see just what you'd turn into"

"She doesn't care who gets hurt on the way, 'cause she's almost there"

"Oh, [ Lottie ]. You're not thinking about the big picture!"

"If there's one thing Daddy taught me, it's that hard work don't get you by"

"You gotta be willing to play bad and give the cards a try"

'If a few folks get hurt on the way, well, maybe they should've learned to play"

"I'm collecting, and debts are due"

"I haven't worked this hard to stop right now!"

"You're scaring me!"

"Don't you see? There's nothing we can't do when it's just me and you."

"Do this and you'll lose me! Or don't you care?"

"Babe, if you're against it, I don't want you here!"

This Wish (Asha's Villain Song)

"You're so far from what I'd thought you'd be"

"You've taken one step too far, and hurt the ones I swore to defend"

"Well, I want my life to finally mean something"

"They say we're made of stars, but a star's more dangerous than they seem"

"If a darker path is what will free us finally, let me be the first to walk that line"

"My whole life I idolized you!"

"I followed your rules, did what I had to do"

"It seems about time you paid for your abuse"

"Shouldn't have dared to try and cross me."

"If I can be powerful, then I can provide everything we need"

"You see, I've been weak before. I won't be that anymore."

"I'd give anything to stop history repeating"

"I didn't want any of this to happen"

"You'll suffer for your crimes!"

How Far I'll Go (Moana's Villain Song)

"I had been the perfect daughter long as I can remember."

"But you laughed and you shoved me away!"

"When you push you'll soon find out how far I'll go."

"We could have fixed this so, so long ago."

"Now reap what you've sown"

"You've brought about all of our demise"

"You've spread fear to all of those around you"

"I could save them all. I could stop this curse."

"But you shut me out, you abandoned me!"

"I once thought that I had a loving father"

"Now you'll pay for all the lives that you've broken"

"You'll watch your people drown"

"All these useless and meaningless deaths? They're on your head"

"I take no pride in seeing them die"

"You won't find a savior in me, I guarantee"

I'll Make A Man Outta You (Mulan's Villain Song)

"The least we could do is give them a warning."

"I feel we could use a pep talk before leaving"

"Once you find his weakness, we are sure to win"

"This man's debts are finally due"

"Boy, was I a fool for trusting you!"

"Now, look what you've made me do! See what you've turned me into!"

"It let me know that my true calling was to see you dead."

"Most of you won't make it, but it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make"

"We've sacrificed too much to turn back now"

"They've been in charge too long."

[lucifersresources]

taylor swift // the tortured poets department : the anthology rp meme part two. part one here.

edit/alter/change pronouns etc as you see fit!

the black dog.

i just don't understand how you don't miss me.

old habits die screaming.

i move through the world with the heartbroken.

my longings stay unspoken.

i may never open up the way i did for you.

do you hate me?

i pledged and i still mean it.

now i wanna sell my clothes and set fire to all my clothes.

i wanna hire a priest to come and exorcise my demons.

i wanna hire a priest to come and exorcise my demons, even if i die screaming.

imgonnagetyouback.

i can tell when somebody still wants me.

i'm gonna get you back.

i'm gonna curse you.

you were never not mine.

i can take the upper hand.

i might just love you till the end.

we're becoming something new.

even if it's handcuffed, i'm leaving here with you.

we broke all the pieces but still wanna play the game.

told my friends i hate you.

i love you just the same.

pick your poison, babe, i'm poison either way.

the albatross.

wild winds are death to the candle.

a rose by any other name is a scandal.

they tried to warn him about her.

cross your thoughtless heart.

only liquor anoints you.

she is here to destroy you.

one bad seed kills the garden.

i'd visit in your dreams.

they tried to warn you about me.

devils that you know raise worse hell than a stranger.

she's the death you chose.

you're in terrible danger.

the devil that you know looks more like an angel.

i'm the life you chose.

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus.

you just watched it happen.

i loved you the way that you were.

tear my world apart.

you said some things that i can't unabsorb.

you turned me into an idea of sorts.

you needed me.

you needed me, but you needed drugs more.

i couldn't watch it happen.

i crashed into you like so many wrecks do.

too impaired by my youth to know what to do.

can we watch our phantoms like watching wild horses?

it just didn't happen.

will i always wonder?

how did it end?

we hereby conduct this post-mortem.

our maladies were such we could not cure them.

a touch that was my birthright became foreign.

how did it end?

we were blind to unforeseen circumstances.

we learned the right steps to different dances.

the death rattle breathing silenced as the soul was leaving.

my beloved ghost and me, sitting in a tree.

i can't pretend like i understand.

so high school.

tell me about the first time you saw me.

look at you.

no one's ever had me, not like you.

you knew what you wanted.

i hate it here.

tell me something awful.

tell me all your secrets.

all you'll ever be is my eternal consolation prize.

now i seem to be scared to go outside.

i don't believe in good luck.

i hate it here.

i will go to secret gardens in my mind.

nostalgia is a mind's trick.

only the gentle survived.

i dreamed about it in the dark.

i felt like i might die.

i'm lonely.

i'm bitter, but i swear i'm fine.

this place made me feel worthless.

in my fantasies, i rise above it.

thanK you aIMee.

it was always the same searing pain.

all that time you were throwing punches, i was building something.

i can't forgive the way you made me feel.

but i can't forget the way you made me heal.

it wasn't a fair fight.

i built a legacy that you can't undo.

i built a legacy.

but when i count the scars, there's a moment of truth.

there wouldn't be this if there hadn't been you.

in your mind, you never beat my spirit black and blue.

i don't think you've changed much.

i look in people's windows.

i had died the tiniest death.

i'm afflicted by the not knowing.

what if your eyes looked up and met mine one more time?

the prophecy.

i got cursed like eve got bitten.

a greater woman wouldn't beg.

please, i've been on my knees, change the prophecy.

change the prophecy.

who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?

i still dream of him.

even statues crumble if they're made to wait.

i'm so afraid i sealed my fate.

someone tell me it'll be okay.

cassandra.

burn the bitch.

do you believe me now?

i was in my tower, weaving nightmares.

what doesn't kill you makes you aware.

what happens if it becomes who you are?

they knew the whole time.

when the truth comes out, it's quiet.

peter.

forgive me.

is it something i did?

i thought it was just goodbye for now.

you said you were gonna grow up, then you were gonna come find me.

promises oceans-deep, but never to keep.

are you still a mind reader?

are you still a natural scene-stealer?

i've heard great things, *name*.

life was always easier on you than it was on me.

underneath the same moon, in different galaxies.

i won't confess that i waited.

i let the lamp burn.

as the men masqueraded, i hoped you'd return.

love's never lost when perspective is earned.

the shelf life of those fantasies has expired.

lost to the 'lost boys' chapter of your life.

forgive me, *name*, please know that i tried.

please know that i tried.

please know that i tried to hold on to the days when you were mine.

the bolter.

we must stop meeting like this.

as she was leaving, it felt like breathing.

she liked the way it tastes.

she just knows she must bolt.

there's escape in escaping.

robin.

you are bloodthirsty.

you have no room in your dreams for regrets.

you'll learn to bounce back.

the manuscript.

now and then she rereads the manuscript.

now and then she rereads the manuscript of the entire torrid affair.

i'm not a donor but i'd give you my heart if you needed it.

but soon, it was over.

everything had been above board.

the years passed like scenes of a show.

write what you know.

looking backwards might be the only way to move forward.

the tears fell in synchronicity with the score.

at last, she knew what the agony had been for.

the only thing that's left is the manuscript.

the only thing that's left is the manuscript, one last souvenir from my trip to your shores.

but the story isn't mine anymore.

[bitch-butter]

For the writing meme perhaps a POV!

Per your latest insight on writing web it’d be interesting to see some scenes from any of your series from his pov!

But joe from pretty on the inside would also be a beast from what you’ve shared!

omgg I'll leave the trainwreck!joe pov for a minute and turn to a favorite moment of mine from rivers part five aka beat a slow dance. this happens towards the end of chapter two, and is a scene that lowkey is a very important scene because it's the first time they both really want to tell the other that they love them but realize that they don't actually need to. I loved writing it the first time, I hope this is interesting ~

(there's another scene from this fic that's going to get a reimagining but that one might take an extra minute lol)

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

The night raced through his veins like charging horses, like poisonous sugar making his heart thud in his chest and his body feel hollow and brittle against it. He lay with his eyes shut, but knew sleep wouldn't truly come for hours no matter how Joe demanded he find it. It was just too much, far, far too much as he pictured all of their faces behind his eyes: mother, father, the priest, father, the priest, Philip.

Sighing through his nose, he turned his face into Joe's thigh, doing his best to go empty.

For a while he succeeded, and he found himself dreaming softly in Joe's voice, each sharply refracted image touching his mind softly the way the other man's hands would lay upon him, run through his hair. Nobody had ever been as kind to him. Nobody had ever been as beautiful. He saw Philp again, even as his face was not Philip's, as though from across a crowded room and he regarded him with a peaceful feeling in his heart, as though a dove had landed on the sensation. Smiling, he turned his attention back to Joe - beside him the dream as surely as he was in life - and put his face to the other man's neck.

The dream melted away against him easily, and it was like waking up in a rosebud with no traces of sleep deprivation, no lingering sense of doom. He cracked his eyes open gently with no concept of the hour, face feeling grimy and drawn as his blurred sight landed on Joe's silhouette against the honey light of the lamp, the book still balanced in his hand.

He must have read on after David fell asleep, and he found his heart going soft and warm at the fact.

"What did you think?” he asked, his voice barely a figment. Even still, it drew Joe's eyes down to him, and in this light they were practically black, onyx, precious and dark.

Joe huffed a laugh through his nose. “You’re supposed to be sleeping," he chided, and David fought not to preen at the other man's attention even if it came laced with concern. He was weak for anything Joe would give him.

“I slept,” he said easily, practically a sigh as he rolled onto his back. “Did you like it?”

He knows Joe only barely tolerates his questioning about what he reads, and he does do his best to temper it. Joe can be on guard against ghosts at times, still somehow afraid David is setting him up fore some elaborate joke, and it makes him cagey when asked too many questions. David knows the best way to soothe him is to simply allow him to Be, but then that's never exactly been his strongest skill.

They have such things in common. It's why they work.

Joe closed the book with a gentle sound, setting it aside carefully. “I don’t know,” he said with faux nonchalance, his hands finding David's hair. “I liked her, I think," he said cautiously, running his fingers from David's forehead to the space between his eyes, a simple, soothing gesture that David guessed was more for himself. "But I don’t know if I liked it.”

Humming, David relished in the touch nevertheless, eyes closing against the simple pleasure it brought to him, blood going slow as caterpillars in his veins. “Do you think she dies?”

“I think so.”

“I don’t know,” David replied, unable to deny just how deeply he enjoyed the moments when Joe let him talk about books, about what things meant. “Whenever I read something with an open ending like that I think of why they left it open in the first place.”

“Why do you think?”

Thinking, he blinked slowly up towards Joe. “Why give us the option to hope she lives if she dies in the end?" he asked, voice soft in the quiet of the night, in the gently rush that Joe's hands gave him. "If the story is all about how she’ll never be free in life then why not let her die, why even try to keep her alive?”

Joe frowned down at him, brow furrowed, and David knew he was worried for him. He wished he could tell him that there was nothing to worry about, but it wouldn't have been the truth. Nothing made him want to vanish from the earth like being in his parents house.

“Dark way of looking at it, buddy,” he said, like a hand outstretched. “People like hoping for something, maybe it isn’t actually as open as you say it is.”

“You think Chopin wrote it that way?”

Head tilting, Joe ran his fingers through David's hair once more, and he found his heart and eyes fluttering at once at the touch. “I think she could have lived,” he said, and his smile was a delicate thing, something David was afraid of breaking. “I think she probably died, but who's to say she doesn’t live?”

He was so wise. So good. He was the greatest person David had ever met, and he allowed him so much. Permitted him to be so much. “I think that’s right,” he said softly, eyes drifting back and towards Joe with an opaque clarity.

Joe looked uncertain, his smile wobbling, and David couldn't tell whether he was internalizing David's approval or his own pleasure at it more. “You think?”

God, but he was so dear. So...just so. His grandmother had been right, there were moments when he looked at Joe and words escaped him, when even the deepest parts of himself went still and silent like a forest in winter. There could be no way he could ever adequately express just how much he...

“I love your voice,” he said, finding the sentiment as close as he'd come to just saying the words themselves in many years. “I love it when you read to me,” he added, mouth quivering around the word as though it would sprout wings, fly around the room and refuse to be pulled back into his heart.

Joe had no business looking as surprised as he did. “You do?” he asked, voice stretched with incredulity.

Swallowing, David felt himself nod. “It makes me feel safe,” he admitted, wanting to tell Joe everything he'd ever felt laying in this bed in the long, lonely nights when he was convinced his life would be worth nothing. How even in his wildest dreams he couldn't have created Joe, wouldn't have allowed himself the hope, the courage to dream of someone of his enormity.

“You’re always safe with me,” Joe replied, smoothing his hand over David's hair, easy and sure like he had known just what David was going to say.

He broke somewhere deep inside. “Thank you,” he managed, muscles feeling weak at simply laying there and letting himself be looked at, touched with gentleness.

“For what?”

How could he say? But he must say it, otherwise what if Joe never quite knows?

“For taking such good care of me,” he said faintly.

Joe laughed at him with closed lips, shaking his head and giving David a pitying look. “You’re out of your mind, kid," he said on the edge of a breath, the way he always acted as though being kind was just something people did instead of something eternal, something almost otherworldly and deserving of celebration.

“I mean it, Joe,” he insisted, frowning up at him, unwilling to let Joe escape his gratitude. “I can think of ten guys who would have given up on me.”

Scoffing, Joe bent sharply down from his lean against the headboard to press a dry kiss against his forehead, which scrunched up in response. “Well, I can think of a hundred who would have given up on me,” he countered, his fringe hanging to tickle the point of David’s nose, making it wrinkle as he smiled back up towards him. “We made it through, that’s what matters.”

They made it through. How simple and yet how deep could something be?

He couldn't believe that his life was his life. Couldn't believe that Joe was his and he was Joe's, that whatever it was they had between them was worth bravery, worthy of living. He had wanted this so badly as a child, yearned desperately for love and understanding and kindness and had long disavowed that these things could ever truly be his.

But Joe had given it all to him without asking. David owed him the debt of his heart.

He suddenly, urgently, wanted to say the words.

“Can I say something?” he asks, slow and intentional.

For a moment Joe looked down on him with knowing eyes, as though he could see through to David's brain and see the way his synapses fired, the shape the words were taking before his mouth even tried to make them.

“Don’t," he said simply, mouth soft and smiling, and David huffed in dismay.

“Let me say it,” he insisted.

“Don’t,” Joe rebuked, soft and easy as he petted him.

Rolling his eyes, David did his best to not feel rejected even in the most meaningless way. “You don’t want me to say it," he accused, feeling mean, bristling at the way Joe just laughed at him and pulled gently at his hair.

“I don’t need you to say it, alright?" he said, and if it hadn't been the truth the feeling of dismissal might have lingered long in David's veins. As it was, he felt himself going warm once more, sure enough with the knowledge that it was real. They say the words in different ways every day, sometimes absent of even their voices. He doesn't need to say it. "I know,” Joe said, his voice low and solid, his eyes dark against David's face. “I know.”

David could only look at him, and look, and look. The man of his dreams, the man of his life, the man who made him laugh, and forced him to live with his eyes open. If Joe would just ask him to say it he would, he would, and he might never be able to stop. He reached out for Joe with an open hand against his neck, and Joe came to him smoothly, like it took no thought at all, easing him into a soft, lingering kiss, urging him down until they could embrace each other.

"Do you know?” Joe breathed against him, kissing the corner of his mouth until it turned up in happiness, in an elation that he thought this room might never know.

[no-m4gic]

Love the layout of your blog- anyway, could I request a character of your choice with an S/O whos scared of the dark and or has nightmares frequently?

thank yyyoouuu anon both for the compliment and this request, it's a really cute prompt AND I CAN FINALLY WRITE FOR MY FAVORITE BOY KOREKIYO :)) honestly i was never scared of the dark is that normal lol

was deciding to do one character per game but like i'm lazy... so you guys enjoy korekiyo for now! (i love him)

this is a GN s/o btw!

~ mod sitaya

KOREKIYO W/ A S/O WHO'S SCARED OF THE DARK

no because like he's literally the worse person to be around if you're scared of ghosts and the dark.

yeah he'll try to not talk about spirits and japanese legends around you at night.

he'll even flip his creepy ass paintings around or move them to a different room aww.

if you nightmares and you guys don't sleep in the same bed, you can go look for him in his room and he'll give you huggies and cuddles.

extra points for the above if it's raining heavily.

if you still can't fall asleep he'll get up just to make you hot cocoa... with marshmallows mm, lucky you i'm jealous.

he'll also make sure his hair doesn't like smack or poke you. he's more considerate than other long haired folk like izuru.

oh you need white noise? fear not, he'll just bring like a white noise machine or a fan in, whichever you prefer.

well since he doesn't want to disturb you while you're sleeping your full 8 hours, he'll turn his alarm off.

still can't sleep since you're a very light sleeper as light as a cloud? or you just wanna sleep in the day time? yeah no problem, kiyo's just gonna bring you on a late night drive in the rain.

maybe even stop by a open-24-hours convenient store to get like cup noodles or something.

kiyo likes his cup noodles alright.

once you finally start feeling sleepy, he'll tuck you in and turn the temperature colder or warmer, whichever you like, before leaving to do his own business.

so he'll stay up the entire night till early morning so you can have a good night's or i guess morning's, rest.

i found this picture while searching up danganronpa memes so enjoy kiyo, rantaro and shuichi exploring the vast lands of pocoyo's world.

i found this off pinterest... if you're the artist lmk so i can credit <3

[thuganomxcs]

Send 'HELP ME YUSUKE' + your muse' problem and Yusuke will give them good advice.

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

Show us!

Yippeee!!!

*looks to the side* Hehehe. Come out, come out~

Honestly. I can see this as a good crack headcanon for him and Taka LMAO. Takaaki, Taka, Kiyondo, Taichi and Chihiro all can't watch Disney movies together as a family because Takaaki and Taka are gonna start crying at the happy endings.

"Anyone wanna play Yahtzee?" -Takaaki

"S-Sorry, Papa...I uhm...I'm busy." -Chihiro

"Same here, Aki." -Taichi

"Hell no, Yahtzee is boring." -Kiyondo

"Sorry, Father...I have to study." -Kiyotaka

"Okay :'D" -Takaaki

YES, YES, YES. I'm CACKLING but he'd fr slay

At first I jokingly went "He probably hunts Roblox predators on there."

AND THEN THIS GENERATED AFTER W H E E Z E

YES

Canon. Well...he is a dad so he kinda has to.

He's like those moms that give you a heart attack every single time you get into the car with them. I take this as a he can drive, but he's just scary behind the wheel.

I'm scared LMAO

HFIRBEJEJEN????

I'M CACKLING

Bro doesn't even speak English JDJRHEHE (honestly I can't spell it either if I don't have autocorrect PFFFFF)

He'll be in bed and turn to Taichi and be like "Darling. Honey. Can we?"

"No, Aki. Ghosts aren't real."

"They are and I can prove it! GIVE ME THE OUIJA BOARD!!!"

"GO TO SLEEP, AKI!" Insert Taichi throwing a pillow at him (softly.)

While sipping a glass of wine "Damn, this shit is spicy." as he's taking a swig as he reads smut of his two favorite TV show characters

Now. Ladies? Gents? Theys? Its?

Here are my absolute FAVES of this entire list

Bro is already in Hell/j

W H E E Z E, I bet for some of them he'd butcher the words so bad or not even know the meme properly

I need to draw this

He would, but I'm kinda wondering what he'd get canceled for LMAOOOO

THIS MADE ME HOWL WITH LAUGHTER, THAT'S SO FOUL 😭

And that's all djdnene. Hope some of my additions made you laugh as much as for the actual thing

[hazzybat]

Hi:) at first I want to say that I love your monster hearts universe very much ❤️‍🩹 and want to ask jance from this universe with 17

First off I'm very happy you like my fic :D

Second off because you picked Jance this is set after the whole fic ends and (spoilers) they get together by then (who could have seen it coming?). Or it's a parallel world kinda deal. I dunno.

Anyway I loved this one cause it's 17... to distract 😈

The party was in full swing, liquor flowing easily and everyone getting increasingly louder, sloppier and more willing to show affection. This was lovely when it meant Kris was telling everyone how much they meant to him with enthusiastic hugs and cheers or when Bojan truly let loose with his dance moves or when Jere was liberal in his use of pixie dust. It also meant however that certain people were more willing to die on stupid hills.

"I'm not giving you my coke Jure, go drink something else or get your own can," Nace said, keeping his grip firm on the can of soft drink, even as the ghost tried once more to steal it.

"I just need a little bit for my Jack, I don't need a whole can," Jure protested, hovering a bit above the ground so he was higher than Nace, trying to glare at him.

"I said no," Nace rolled his eyes once more and took a sip of his can, exaggerating his moan of pleasure at the taste just to tease the poltergeist.

He felt a slight shudder at his right and looked at the werewolf currently tucked under his arm, his pupils blow and tongue darting out to wet his lips. Jan was officially his boyfriend now and Nace couldn't be happier. He nuzzled Jan's cheek and planted a kiss there.

"Let me have a taste," Jan said. Nace offered the can but it was quickly taken out of his hands and placed on the bookshelf the two were leaning against. Instead Jan turned, pulled Nace in close and kissed him.

Nace brought his hands up to Jan's neck, carding his fingers through the ebony locks he found there. He felt sharp canines dig into his lower lip and he gasped in surprise, giving Jan access to his mouth and feeling his tongue explore it, tasting the surgery sweet drink on his teeth. He pulled Jan closer, one hand trailing down his back, already feeling the windmill that was his tail wagging at full speed.

"Success! The coke is mine!" He heard a cheer behind him and reluctantly broke from Jan's perfect mouth to see what was happening.

Jure had snatched the can from where Jan had left it and was now pouring it into his glass of Jack Daniel's, tipping his head back in victory and taking a large gulp of the mixture.

Nace looked back at Jan to see him showing off his canines in a grin.

"You betrayed me!" Nace clutched his imaginary pearls, offended his boyfriend would use something as special as his kisses to cheat and get Jure his drink.

"He bet me €20." Nace glared at the ghost now proudly sipping his stolen drink.

"I hate both of you," Nace pouted even as Jan leaned in to give him another smooch. He had to admit, the kiss did taste better than his drink.

(P.s, this whole this was mostly inspired by this incredibly old meme)

[slime-sandwhich-nom]

Back in this fandom for the fourth time, will be giving headcanons.

> The snatcher wasn't always evil, he was once a very sweet guy. And i don't mean the prince, even as a ghost, he was once a very sweet guy! It's after eating souls and actually participating in the "monster" role that he found out he had a particular liking to bring suffering to others.

> Deep down, he still loves vanessa. The sweet, caring and beautiful Vanessa that somehow got replaced by that possessive monster roams around the manor now. He just can't look at the current one and say "yeah, that's my girlfriend" no, it's not. It's vanessa. Not his princess. That's the queen.

He's hurt by her, very hurt. But he wants to be his prince again, well, he wants to be his princess's prince again.

> the snatcher is chaotic neutral. He's that type of guy who never actually goes a certain direction, he only does whatever HE wants and whatever will grant him the advantage. He's here for the DRAMA. but he doesn't wanna be involved in it. He wants to watch it.

He can be both good and bad, as long as he gets entertainment in return.

> the snatcher is aware that he's in a game, hat kid isn't. Whenever he talks about "icons" or regular stuff that appears in games (example: "all of the minions who are awaiting mail, will have an icon above them, once you're done, come back here, and "clock out", get it?") hat kid is always left confused, but always knows what to do for some reason.

the snatcher also knows about memes. He knows about Twitter and everything, and will joke about it, despite hat kid not getting it.

> The snatcher always joins whatever hat kid is doing, why? It's fun. He always goes around as another hat kid because it's easier to move, since he's not a big noodle.

> Since he was a kid, the snatcher was always a bit mischievous, a little silly, if you will.

> Vanessa wasn't always an obsessive and possessive person, which made her turn into the monster she was now, it somehow..was her mother passing that struck a nerve. She was a good person once.

> snatcher dosen't really hate his minions. He acts like a goofy villain who has these little guys helping him and always tells them his secrets and plans, and they enjoy it!

> Snatcher eats the souls, the minions take the goods and throw the bodies in the swamp.

> Snatcher is literally those sassy Disney villains

> both Vanessa and the prince had powers. Ice and fire. Both had to keep their cool to keep it under control, which wasn't too hard, but even a snap could lead to at least one room frozen. Or worse.

Vanessa usually had her feet frozen and ice spreading slowly the more she got angry, but the prince? (aside from hardly ever showing anger, he was the literal definition of joy.) He would get on fire like hades does in the Disney movie.

It never hurt the two royalties, the ice never gave Vanessa any sides effects or the fire ever hurt the prince, but if it got out of hand, it could corrupt them.

> Somehow only royalty (by blood) could reach power such as magic (ice, fire and all), so they had several lessons to keep it under control. It's a little special thing that only these specific people had, no one else did.

> The prince had the habit, and still does, to brush aggressively his hair with his hands until he would accidentally rip his own hair whenever he was stressed or upset. Bad habit.

> Vanessa instead always touched her hands a lot and fidgeted, or paced whenever she was alone.

> the snatcher always had that booming laugh of his.

> The snatcher can sing. (Reference to his VA)

> the snatcher is Italian, Vanessa is German. Subcon is somewhere in Europe, specifically in Germany (the prince comes from a kingdom in Italy, but he started living in Germany with Vanessa in subcon)

The conductor is Scottish.

Mustache girl is British (meaning the land mafia town, is in England, but the mafia is not British.yet. I gotta decide.)

[Need to figure out the others]

P.S. technically speaking, all the characters are from different places, so they don't really speak the same language or English (aka: the prince and Vanessa technically would speak German (and Italian, for the prince)) aside from who is from England, Canada, the united states ect. But for the sake of everyone (to understand what they are saying) the game is in English and everything will be said in English.

plus everyone at least KNOWS some English, to communicate with everyone around the world, so everyone (when they figured out that hat kid didn't understood them) kinda spoke English to hat kid. Helped a little because everyone spoke the same thing, but as an alien she had to force herself to understand.

> the snatcher has always greeted people with a "why hello there!", Rather loud too, but in a cheerful manner, rather than the current one.

> the snatcher didn't have a big scary change or transformation, he just can shapeshift, and thought the form he uses in the game is scary (it's not. It's rather cute in my opinion.)

> The prince has the little habit of always standing and stare at Vanessa from behind whenever she would brush her teeth or hair before bed, and always gave her a little scare by just letting her realize that there's someone behind her by looking at the mirror. He enjoyed doing this a lot and always gave a few small chuckles without waking up the entire subcon with his loud laughter.

And as much of a scare Vanessa would get, she would laugh along.

> since the prince didn't spoke German, and only communicated in English, he was a silent character for quite a while. Once he actually started speaking some German thanks to Vanessa, he started speaking more. He was always the talkative type, he just couldn't be understood.

> the snatcher has a bush cat as a pet. Y'know, those little cats with a bush as their bodies? Yeah that.

He treats it like this

But he loves the little feline.

[glorious-spoon]

9 and any Stranger Things ship for the wrapped meme

Thank you! Number 9 this year was Limelight, by Rush. Here's a bit of pre-relationship Steddie featuring Eddie's complicated feelings about his hometown - I hope you enjoy!

-

title: get on with the fascination [on AO3]

word count: ~1900

-

Fifteen years after the world doesn't end, Eddie Munson returns to Hawkins.

It's a dramatic phrasing, even in his own head; for one thing, this is far from the first time he's been back since the summer of 1986, although the last time was almost a decade ago. He doesn't call it going home. Home is New York, and sometimes Chicago these days, which is as close to Roane County as he usually wants to get. Home, as far as it ever existed for him in Hawkins, was a trailer that got dropped into an alternate dimension along with a good chunk of the town the same night Eddie almost died. Home is the little house over the Illinois border where Wayne has lived since '91. Home sure as shit isn't here.

"You planning on brooding this whole time, or what?" Steve asks from across the booth. The bar they're currently sitting in is no longer called The Hideout; at some point in the last fifteen years, it's been rebranded to On The Rocks Bar And Grill. There's a fresh coat of paint on the walls and a layer of new laminate flooring over the old asbestos tile. Draft taps and an honest-to-god raised stage instead of the grimy corner where the old band used to play. At the turn of the millennium, Hawkins is finally gentrifying.

"I'm not brooding."

"Yeah, man, you totally are. Could we get a couple of refills? Thanks so much," he adds to the waitress who pauses by their table to ask if they need anything. She doesn't seem to recognize Eddie. Too young to remember him from his illustrious youth here, and apparently not into the metal scene, thank fucking Christ. For the most part, he kind of likes it when strangers come up to him in public—two platinum records in and it still hasn't lost its novelty—but not here. Not in Hawkins. This place still feels fucking cursed.

"Are you buying me beer now, Harrington?"

"You're the big-shot rockstar," Steve points out with a shit-eating grin. "You're buying."

"Ugh," Eddie groans, and puts his head down on the table, which doesn't even have the decency to be sticky. "Remind me again why I agreed to this?"

"I don't know. Closure?"

"Next time I decide to do something this shit-stupid, can you do me a favor and just, like, duct tape me to a chair or something?"

"Kinky," Steve says dryly, but he's still smiling when Eddie lifts his head to glare at him. Eddie should probably be less of a dick about this, given that Steve is only here for moral support; he doesn't live in Hawkins either these days. He's up in Chicago with Robin, who would also probably be here if she weren't mired in stacks of midterm papers on film theory from her earnest little freshman ducklings. Steve makes his own hours, so it's not that much of a surprise that he closed up shop and drove down here and didn't bother to call until he'd already crossed the county line, at which point Eddie was winding himself up into a dangerous head of steam and was grateful for any distraction that offered itself.

And Steve is the best kind of distraction. Always has been. Even now, kicked back in a bar booth in all his yuppie glory, sipping the last of his beer and scanning the bar every now and then with a wariness that Eddie hasn't seen from him in a while. Because Eddie isn't the only one who left a headful of ghosts behind in Hawkins, Indiana. He forgets that sometimes.

"Thank you, by the way," he says. "Did I say that yet?"

"Nah. Mostly you've just been, like, bemoaning your life."

"Bemoaning," Eddie repeats, delighted. "We'll make a poet of you yet, Stevie."

"In your dreams," Steve says mildly.

"Oh, every night, baby."

That gets him a scoff, but it's a fond one. The waitress comes back with their drinks, and he leans back out of her way to let her set them down and clear away their empty glasses. Steve thanks her again, and this time Eddie does too, because there's only so much wallowing that Steve will let him get away with and he's probably closing in on that limit quickly. Still, all Steve actually says once she leaves is, "So what's the plan, then? You're meeting the interviewers at, what, three?"

"Yeah," Eddie sighs. "I don't fucking know. They wanted me to, like, walk them around and show them the old sights, which sounded like a great idea when Marleen pitched it, but now it's like, what old sights? Oh, here's where the basketball team tried to kick my skull in. Here's where the football team tried to kick my skull in. Here's the picnic table where I used to sell weed out of my lunch box. Here's where my trailer was before a girl died there and it got sucked into the shadow dimension, except—oops!—can't tell you shit about that because I signed a stack of confidentiality agreements almost as tall as me. But they're still gonna ask." He lets out a long sigh and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. "They're gonna want me to talk about Chrissy."

"So you tell them to go to hell."

He barks a laugh. "Easy as that, huh?"

"You've never had trouble with it before," Steve says with a shrug.

That's true enough. Eddie sighs again and reaches for his beer. "This place is fucking me up. No, there is actually a plan. We're gonna stop by the high school after it's cleared out and do the interview there, it's all set up. You know they put up a plaque with my name on it outside the drama room?"

Steve laughs. "No shit?"

"Yeah, apparently there was a vicious battle about it on the school board. Real fire and brimstone shit, went on for months. Henderson's mom led the charge on my behalf, I got the whole story from him."

"Jesus," Steve says. And then, "Shit, we should go see her while we're in town."

"You're just hoping she'll feed you."

"Well, yeah," Steve says. "I've been living on my own cooking since…" he waves a hand and makes a face. "You know. Since everything went south with Jerry."

Jerry was the latest in a series of attractive people of varying genders that Steve has dated over the last ten years, since he moved to Chicago and figured his shit out. Eddie kind of hated the guy, but it wasn't personal. He was objectively probably a perfectly fine person, and it wasn't his fault that Eddie fell head over heels for a hot monster-slaying jock in the spring of 1986 and never entirely recovered. Though, as he's now reminded, it's been a long time since he and Steve were both single at the same time, and the last time that happened, he still thought Steve was straight.

He tries to swallow that thought down with a mouthful of beer, but it lingers like a strange spiky shape in the back of his throat. "So, how's all that going, anyway?"

Steve groans dramatically.

"An encouraging response."

"No, it's fine. I'm, like, totally over him at this point. I just… I don't know, I figured I'd be past all this shit by now, you know? Thought I'd settle down, get my life together, find somebody who…" he trails off.

"Who…?" Eddie repeats leadingly.

"I don't know. Somebody who gets it. Somebody I don't have to, like, lie to."

"That's a tall order, my friend."

"Yeah, I guess," Steve mutters. He's looking at his beer, rubbing a thumb against the wedge-shaped scar bisecting his lower lip. He's got a lot of scars, and Eddie knows the story to most of them, even the ones he wasn't personally present for. But he supposes that he can see how it would wear on Steve, inventing explanations for them that aren't about being tortured by Russian spies or eaten alive by interdimensional monsters. Steve's not much of a liar, when it comes down to it. Eddie doesn't mind spinning fantastical stories to obscure the ugly truth, but they're wired differently that way.

"Hey," Eddie says. He taps his fingernails against Steve's glass and waits for him to look up. "Listen, I'm sorry I brought it up."

Steve smiles a little. "It's fine. Seriously. Robin says I'm being a sad sack, and she's probably right."

"Mm. Probably, but I am not the sensible Professor Doctor Buckley, am I?"

"God, you know she hates it when you call her that."

"She's the one who decided to get a PhD. Masochism, in my strong opinion."

"Oh, we all know," Steve says. He glances over Eddie's shoulder at the clock, then says, "Probably ought to get going if you want to make your interview on time."

"And Marleen has promised to string me up by my metaphorical balls if I show up late for another one," Eddie sighs. He drains the last of his beer and stands, digging his wallet out.

After they pay and head outside, Steve lingers by the side of the brick building, facing the road. It's a sunny day, breezy and crisp, pale wisps of clouds moving fast across the blue sky, and something about it makes Eddie's chest pinch with a strange nostalgia. Something about the way Steve looks right now, in his stylish yet dorky windbreaker with his hair tossed by the breeze. It's shorter now than he used to wear it but he really doesn't look that different at thirty-four than he did at nineteen. Older, sure, but it suits him.

"After I'm done with all this shit," Eddie says. "You wanna go get high at the quarry? You know, for old times' sake?"

Steve laughs softly, eyes crinkling. "Does it really count if we're not smoking in the back of your van?"

"True. Pretty sure I wouldn't get the deposit back on my rental if I turn it in smelling like grass, either."

"We can take my car," Steve says.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. If you want."

"You wanna crash with me after? So you don't have to drive all the way back home tonight, I mean? The room they booked me is, like, palatial. I didn't even know they had places that nice around here."

Steve glances at him again, rubbing his jaw. It wouldn't be the first time they've shared a hotel room, but there's a different context now. For one thing, they can both afford separate rooms these days. For another, Eddie's got that itch that means he's probably gonna do something reckless, and he's not even sure he wants to try to stop it.

If he and Steve go smoke up by the quarry where they spent the last summer of Eddie's teens, he's going to confess something, he's pretty sure of it. Lay it all on the line for Steve, after all this time. He's starting to think that might not even be the worst idea he's ever had. Steve is here, after all.

"Yeah, okay," Steve says, finally. He bumps his shoulder against Eddie's, and Eddie leans back into the solid warmth of him, and takes a deep breath of cool spring air, and watches the Hawkins traffic pass them by.

Tomorrow, he'll be gone. Maybe, if this doesn't all blow up in his face, he'll go back to Chicago with Steve. Hawkins is a place he's outgrown years ago, and whatever story comes out of this interview is never going to be anything other than a media-crafted shadow of the truth, but honestly, that's never been what mattered in the end.

"It's a date, then," he says, and when he glances over at Steve, he finds him already smiling back.

[papermint-airplane]

I don't know how to do these

Fishfinger:

👻

👊

🕷️

🍼 (chance of lil fishfingers?)

🐀 (thoughts on rats)

🙉

You're so crazy for requesting the dog 😭😭😭😭😭 It's ok, I still love you.

Let's develop a pupper character!

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their "ghostly experiences", if any?

As a dog, Fishy can see ghosts better than humans can. He believes in them, even when they don't believe in themselves. He is always rooting for them to succeed in lif--uh...unlife?

👊 PUNCH - are they quick to violence?

Fishfinger is a pretty laid back dog. Well...temperament-wise, I guess. He's really hyperactive and just wants to play with everyone. I can't see him ever biting someone or growling at someone. I mean, he growls at the TV all the time but that doesn't really count, right? I mean what's he gonna do realistically? You can't square up with a TV, you little dumbass. 😭

🕷️ SPIDER - what is their biggest fear? do they have any irrational / mundane fears?

Yeeeeaaaaah it's the TV. 🙄 Every time his human turns it on to watch her stories, he freaks out. Nothing else does it, just the TV. I think he's a technophobe. Or maybe he can hear the subliminal messages we can't hear! 😲 Nah, he's probably just a weird dog.

🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?

At the moment, Fishfinger is enjoying the single life but he's not ruling puppies out just yet. He just needs to meet the right bitch. What? Why are you looking at me like that? That's the word for female dogs, I'm not being vulgar. Fishy doesn't get bitches right now. Maybe later. Insert no bitches meme.

🐀 (thoughts on rats)

Fishy hasn't met any rats in his travels yet but I feel almost certain he'll try to make friends with them. If it's capable of playing, he will play with it, so I think he'd get along with a little rat very well.

🙉 HEAR-NO-EVIL - what is the worse thing your oc could hear from someone?

"Bad boy!" 😭 He would never, ever, ever hear that from anyone though, because Fishfinger is a good boy! The goodest boy! The very best boy that ever boyed!

And he loves you. 🥰