#Anyway! Very happy with this little guy. One of the prettier pets.

[kethsi]

So this happened yesterday...

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

Who do your friends think are hotter latinx dudes? (If it’s Pedro pascal or oscar Isaac - they’ve got worst taste tbh)

Like 97%+ of the Latin / Latino / Latine community, I'm not a huge fan of Latinx and consider this terminology to be an example of linguistic imperialism, but i am DELIGHTED to answer this question with a subset of dudes.

To clarify, though, as much as a meme and pout about it, I do get why my taste is different than theirs. I'm not ever too impressed by just looks--there's a lot of handsome dudes out there, who cares? like honestly, so what?--but I'm very attracted to movement and stance and motion. IRL, my party trick is that I can pick martial artists or dancers out of a crowd by how they stand or move, and I do this based purely on "is the way this dude stands sexy to me or not?" as opposed to any kind of objective criteria.

Accordingly, I married a life long martial artist who went goth clubbing with me enough times to ensure I'm obsessed with him for life. He's also the most amazing poet I've ever met and an actual certified genius, because fundamentally life is unfair. But the point is: movement, movement, movement. It's so important. I have a type, but not necessarily how people usually mean it.

And in the realm of pet actor men, David Castañeda moves way, way better than average, even if you judge him against other dudes trying to be action stars. So my friends are never going to convince me, and I'm never gonna convince them, and that's fine.

So anyway

Miguel Gomez is popular. I think it's the cheekbones. I know him as Gus from the Strain and everybody else has seen him on some other show that sounds like something I'd rather die than watch.

Both the dudes from Mayans MC are popular, and I actually do not disagree with either JD Pardo or Clayton Cardenas as a pick. I resisted watching the show for literally years, but eventually I caved and yeaaaaahhhhh. yeaaaah tho.

Every so often I'm insane about JD for like, a week or so. Fantastic tough guy yet nice boy energy on Mayans. I've said some thirsty ass shit on this account about him for SURE. Unfortunately, every time he posts a Muay Thai workout he's just so sloppy it kills my boner for like. months at a time. I flashback to my own summer in Phuket and can just see how disappointed my trainer would be if this dude was in his gym.

Clayton Cardenas I used to disagree about but he's a Miami boy, so. And like, with the biker styling? Look at him. If he had a dance or martial arts background I'd be a goner.

he also looks like the Hollywood (therefore prettier) version of every single metal Latino dude I've ever met. the 305 and 561 area code versions of this man have hollered at me more times than I can count. like, it's a charming sort of nostalgia. it's That Guy! that type of guy! i know That Guy! I made out with that guy under the bleachers in high school! etc etc. what a darling. the last version of That Guy who tried for me is now happily married and lives in LA and works in a pet crematorium. Very happy for him.

where was i

oh yeah, I have one friend who is obsessed with bad bunny and I guess maybe there's a dance background there maybe but I just do NOT vibe with it at ALL. the id is mysterious. he might just be too young for me? david is on thin ice, age wise, for me. any younger and I'd be repelled.

which is an interesting point, actually. I don't know how old you are, anon, but age might be another factor here. I'm in my mid 30s and CMOOOON

Oscar Isaac doesn't do it for you at least a little????

[growling]

ep 6:

we're already like. halfway thru the season lmaooooo im speedrunning it

oh hello atsushi hello kunikida. oh i remember how atsushi in s3 said he's gonna need to learn to fight better with kunikida

yeah everybody listen to ranpo. the NEW main boy. who the fuck is atsushi we don't need him

fukuzawa i can see your point and i see that your point is stupid. everybody listen t ranpo now

(also ranpo calling mushi his friend...aughhhh)

oh hello ango. ooohhh dazai is missing? YESSSSSSSSS HAHA FUCK YOU DAZAI I DON'T WANNA SEE YOU

atsushi the justice department guy is gonna kill you. wait how much you wanna bet they put something in the award

ohh atsushi has magic smell abilities. also he looks so cute when he panics for his life

oh idk if i recognize the white hair red tips guy but something rings a bell..... also if he's blind. please. please don't make him a blind psychic trope do not make his potential ability somehow "make up" for his lack of sight do not make him into daredevil or jayfeather please please please make his ability completely unrelated or at the very least not Literally Just Sight But In A Slightly Different Way pleaseeee pleaseeeeeeeeeeee im begging you i will start taking off points if he does

bsd do not dissapoint me or i will put your favourite boy (dazai) in the washing machine

OH GOD DAMN IT YOU HAD ONE JOB!!!!!!!! MFS WHEN THEY'RE ASKED TO WRITE DISABLED CHARACTERS THAT ARE ACTUALLY DISABLED THAT HAVE DISABILITIES THAT DISABLE THEM:

You know what happens now, Dazai. Get in.

whoopsie agency's gonna get a callout post aren't they!!!

oh good they're shooting tonan :) or is it bad

what's up nikolai!!!!!!!!!

came back the next day k im back where were we

MUSHI IS ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE'S ALIVE!!!!!!!!!!! FOR NOW.

Nikolai is so silly. I'm gonna have to forgive his crimes now

i love how he's also kinda just. Bad at this. that's gonna be the second time now he made an oopsie

"crap, this is an on-air oopsie! STOP THE CAMERA! THE CAMERA!!!" sjdgfdhsfdejkdfh you silly little man you.

but i forgive him. what a silly goofy little guy

anyway.... i think my wish for a ranpo season has been granted. i am a happy camper now. i mean shame about the unnamed blind guy but you get what i mean

where are you going ranpo..... be careful boy :((

who's taneda

guys i think. guys i think the agency is taking the bait rn this is not gonna end well guys

speaking of!!! oh hello nikolai :33 he's prettier up close im gonna fuck him im gonna hrrrghhhh

matter teleportation ability!!

nikolai buddy why are you explaining the mechanics to him...... nikolai buddy he's gonna use it to his advantage and shit NIKOLAI CAN YOU HEAR ME

he did the x3c !!!!

oh yeah that one novel that my pet freak francis mentioned........ well thats not looking good methinks :7

why's nikolai fondling atsushi's leg like that... why's he touching him that wayy..... whys he giggling. the goofy goober.... now my mind is plagued by lustful visions once again

his voice went lower..............

"because its fun" FAIR honestly. fair. i forgive him

TORTURE!!!!!!!!!! WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!!!!!!

oooooo the novel mechanics!!!

ooooo the jester was lying :000 !!!!!

im making surprised and awestruck "oooh"'s at everything nikolai says that's what he would have wanted.....

list of bsd characters with nonbiney swag. fukuzawa. ranpo. poe. atsushi. natsume. akutagawa. kunikida. mushitaro. kyouka. maybe fyofor. nikolai. damn that's a lot

binary genders are an endangered species in yokohama. cis people are almost extinct, with only one individual left, going by the name dazai osamu,

oh he just left him :333 he's so polite you guyss

oooh somebody is writing the lines in the book the the

they're gonna take off he hoods let's see if any of them are as drop dead gorgeous as my bestie nikolai

OOOOOOOOOOOOO OH FUCK THIS IS BAD THIS IS. BAD

agency cancelled arc

NIKOLAI NOOOO DON'T KILL YOURSELF YOU'RE SO SEXY HAHA,,, no but seriously stop this boy

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO NIKOLAI!!!!!!!!! USE THE BOOK TO UN-DIE HIM RIGHT NOW THIS IS AN ORDER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

anyway uhhh. this looks bad for the gang!!!!!

anyway bsd season 4 let's go gamers

ep1:

still waiting for chuuya to get unbooked. notify me immediately once he gets unbooked i can't take thsi

oh hi fukuzawa. put his wrinkles back on ffs

fukuzawa and ranpo flashback episode pretty please??

LET'S GOOOOOOO

oh oda's the assassin?? killer baby

ranpo voice heard my waters are cropped

i do not accept ranpo being the same age/older than oda. i will not accept this. let oda be like. 30+ or whatever

whys ranpo giving me ouma vibes in this outfit

ranpo don't care sunglasses emoji

oh yeah i had the feeling the secretary was the killer from the moment ranpo walked in lmao. now danganronpa execute him

coolest kid you've never met

good for ranpo for getting kicked out of the police after exposing all their shit as a teenager

snitch ranpo we love to see it it's okay if he does it he can do whatever he wants forever he's never been wrong in his life

orphan lore

oh he's 14 now. baby

"well done for today-" "that's it?? you're talking to a 14-year old who lost his parents his job and his future. thats all you got??" yes ranpo go fight for that sympathy points make that old man cry and shake from guilt

he's so sillyyy......... "*2 seconds after walking out the door* help me mister bodyguard i don't have work or a place to stay im going to die" yes ranpo go fight for that house and income pluck that old man out of everything he got (morally correct). i love how it literally works and fukuzawa says yeagh sure every time

with every single minute ranpo is on screen. i swear. with every single damn frame of that guy he gets more and more npd. like. that is a narcissist. you wrote a narcissist and made him the coolest most swag guy in the anime. and that's not even mentioning that guy's massive fucking autism and adhd

is this gonna be like rain code chapter 2 where where-

fukuzawa sweating voice damn that kids a genius and also deeply deeply unnerving why is he so op in the smarts stats what happened in his early childhood to ruin him forever like this

and ranpo's utterly clueless to that too he just thinks everybody else is an idiot or just acting real weird and hiding what they know for some reason.

"ive only just met you so i don't know much but- *lists his entire fucking biography*"

LEAVE THE BOY ALONE YOU KNOCKED HIM OVER FUKUZAWA YOU MONSTER!!!!!!!!!!! YOU WILL ALWAYS BE A CRUEL AND WICKED PERSON YOU WILL DESTROY EVERYTHING YOU TOUCH YOU HAVE NOT AND NEVER WILL CHANGE IN A MEANINGFUL WAY. CAN'T BELIEVE YOU'D DO THIS...............

oh ok he apologized. but can he ever truly be forgiven........

the hat :)

new sonboy acquired

[alderaani]

prison break (echo x reader)

A valentines gift for @just-some-girl-92 as part of the event being run by @starwarsfandomfests! Thanks so much for putting another one of these together @lilhawkeye3, and I really hope you like this Dell! I think credit for white haired Echo goes to @/amiro-art? That was the first place I saw it anyway, and I’ve really liked the headcanon that it’s like that post-techno union ever since!

Based on this prompt: Character A moves in next to Character B. They have conjoined balconies and A's pet/child wanders into B's apartment.

Fives and Echo are both reunited and well in this because everyone gets to be happy on Valentine’s Day and I said so. We don’t need canon on this blog.

The other side of the wall explodes with noise. 

It makes you pause, looking up from the knitting trailing over your knees to cock your head towards the opposite apartment. You think you hear the screech of furniture legs being pushed along the floor, then the frantic rumble of several male voices speaking over the top of each other, the clatter and clang of things as they are removed and replaced.

It’s odd. When Tith-Mar lived next door, you used to hear it every time he coughed, or swore at that awful old holodrama he used to watch every Taungsday. As much as you tried to stop yourself you couldn’t help but get invested, and that was almost worse. Out of pride you never put it on your own unit, but that just meant you ended up half pressed against the wall, eventually not even pretending you weren’t listening to Capula and Mont confess their love. It had given you something to talk about, anyway, when you went onto the balcony to water your plants and he went out there to smoke the fancy deathsticks he joked he’d live and die by.

In the year since the war ended and Tith-Mar was finally able to move back out to be with his daughter on Ryloth you’ve never quite gotten used to the quiet. There was a strange comfort in knowing that there was someone on the other side of the wall. Maybe it came from the three years of water shortages and occasional outages - or, notably, the rampage of the Zillo beast, which hadn’t come quite close enough to flatten you in your sleep, but had downed enough of the power grid that you’d been locked in your apartment for five rotations. You miss the soft Rylothi folk music he used to play in the mornings, and you miss seeing him sometimes, blowing smoke up into the brisk Coruscant mornings with his blue lek, faded now in old age, wrapped around his neck like a scarf.

You just miss the comforting assurance of having someone else there. If it wasn’t for the sound of the door going, and the occasional thump of something being moved, you’d hardly know that you had neighbours at all now. It’s almost funny to think back on the furore it caused when the Republic bought the apartment for GAR resettlement. It led to the only neighbourhood meeting the building has ever had, and you’ve been very glad for that fact after discovering that a solid faction of your fellow citizens are bigots. It’s something you knew, objectively, but witnessing it from the people you personally rub shoulders with was a harder pill to swallow than having to watch some of the anti-clone protests on the holonews. You’ve not tried to remember the more colourful misconceptions about clone troopers aired by prim soft-handed mid-levellers as they sat in a lobby you can remember the Coruscant Guard clearing rubble from with nothing but their hands. However, you do very vividly remember someone from two floors up asking you if you’d ‘really feel safe’ living next to ‘those walking warmongers’, being young and living on your own. You’d shut that down, of course, and the resulting vote had passed in favour.

You’d honestly half expected the troopers to reject the place after that, and you wouldn’t have blamed them either. 

Everyone had known the day they moved in, had pretended not to watch as a GAR issue speeder loaded with two armoured figures and a meagre quantity of possessions had pulled up on the walkway and made their way cautiously inside. You’d thought about introducing yourself, knocking or something, but concluded in the end that they didn’t need anyone else ogling them. You’d figured that there would be plenty of time for that later...and now here you are, a whole year on, and that glimpse is just about the closest you’ve ever gotten to them. You think they still spend a lot of time off-planet, helping with the reconstruction missions the now-voluntary GAR conducts throughout the Mid and Outer Rims. You hadn’t even been sure that they were home at the moment, actually. 

There’s no doubting it now, as the frantic thumps and raised voices continue. Through your balcony door, cracked open to catch some of the soft breeze the weather engineers have scheduled today, you can make out a little of what their voices are saying, one frantic and forceful, the other softer, but no less worried.

“ - kriffing hell, can’t believe we’ve lost...Rex will have our heads…”

“...can’t have gotten far...can’t even walk!”

“ - already checked the fresher, Echo!”

“It can’t hurt to check twice...knew we shouldn’t have…”

You bite your lip, turning round while debating whether you should offer your help. Then you freeze. The baby on the other side of your caf table freezes too, chubby hand poised to grab the cookie you’d been saving for later. They’re standing on legs that wobble a bit, and there’s a glint of steely determination in the dark eyes that fix on your face. 

“Hello,” you say a little weakly, realising very abruptly what the troopers must have lost.

The kid appraises you for a moment longer, brow furrowed and intent. There’s a huge amount of judgement there for such a small face, those focused eyes taking you in for several very long seconds. Then they huff, and very deliberately turn their attention back to the cookie. You smother an incredulous laugh. 

“Not impressed, huh?” You say, carefully setting your knitting aside and uncovering your legs. “Can’t say I blame you, I prefer cookies too.”

The baby doesn’t dignify this with any attention, instead making a soft crowing noise as their little fingers strike victory and retract with the cookie firmly in grasp. When they immediately move to cram it into their mouth you burst into action, leaning across the caf table to swipe it. Just those mere seconds of contact have made it slightly damp. 

The baby’s face scrunches in outrage, and they let go of the table edge, sinking down onto their padded bottom with a sharp, high noise of annoyance. They don’t cry, but the frown is something spectacular.

“Sorry, kid.” You force yourself the rest of the way up, keeping a hold on the cookie with one hand. Can kids this young even eat solid foods yet? Do they have any allergies? You don’t have any siblings, so the last time you were around a baby was when you were one. For all this one’s bravado, they look awfully breakable. “I’ll hang on to this for now, yeah?”

You don’t think that they’re old enough to understand what you’re saying, but the huff the baby lets out feels extremely pointed. You stare down at them on your rug.

“Don’t suppose you could give me any pointers on how to hold you?”

It turns out babies are wriggly. You put the cookie down long enough to hoist the kid into your arms and attempt to manoeuvre their little arms and legs so that they’re not jabbing into your vital organs, but at the sight of the food being placed far away, the kid lets out a piercing noise, right into your ear, and attempts to kamikaze their way back to it. A body that two seconds ago was ramrod solid and deliberately unwieldy is suddenly boneless and impossible to hold onto. Your brain goes empty of everything but wrestling with several pounds of struggling infant. 

You end up on the floor, eventually, but at least both of you are in one piece. You’re breathing heavily. The kid’s face is thunderous. It’s very cute, but you can’t wait to give it back and appreciate that from a distance. Somehow, you manage to settle them onto your hip.

“What the f - heck was that for?” You ask, purely to make yourself feel better. Even if the kid could answer you, you get the feeling they simply wouldn’t. “Was it because I put the biscuit down?”

The kid makes a huffing noise. You roll your eyes, but can’t help smiling. The baby’s dark, just-curling hair is soft against the skin of your upper arm, and their weight is warm and solid against your side. 

“I’m not taking it away from you. I’m gonna let you have it, just need to make sure it’s safe for womp-rats first. And return you before those poor guys tear their place apart, okay?”

You re-collect the cookie and struggle back to your feet, looking towards the open balcony. Visions flash through your mind of the baby pulling that boneless trick out there, with nothing but spacelanes separating them from the ground 50 stories below, and...no. You’re not even vaguely risking that. The front door is definitely the better option, but somehow more daunting, as you stand before the neighbouring apartment with your heart in your throat.

The second you knock, the frantic voices inside cut off abruptly, and then you hear the mad scramble that ensues to reach the door. It wooshes open, and suddenly you’re face to face with your neighbours for the first time. 

They’re less identical than you’d expected. Maybe that’s a stupid thought, but it’s the first one that stumbles, half formed and dazed, into the open void your brain has just become. The second, very unhelpful follow up, is that they’re also much prettier than you’d expected. Not that you’d necessarily expected anything, but - you’ve never seen one of the clones without their helmets before. The Corrie Guard, back during the war, had made a point of never taking them off as far as you’d ever seen. That was apparently a crying shame. One of them has thick, dark curly hair, a tidy goatee, and a tattoo on his forehead. The other’s hair is a sharp, startling white, interrupted by metal nodes of some sort. Some sort of post-war medical adaptation, you assume. He’s slightly leaner all over, his eyes a little larger in his face. But the way both of them sag against the door frame is exactly the same.

“Thank the fucking force,” The dark haired one breathes, clutching at his chest.

The other trooper elbows him sharply in the ribs. “Fives.”

“She’s ten months old, Echo. She’s not gonna repeat it.”

“She just escaped from our apartment after General Skywalker swore up and down she’s not mobile yet. It’s gonna be her first word just to spite us.”

You laugh before you can stop yourself and flush a little when all attention snaps back to you.

“That I can believe,” you force yourself to say. “Hi. I think I found something of yours.”

You hold out your armful of infant and - you presume Fives is his name - reaches out to take her, groaning in relief. 

“Thank you,” he says, fervent, taking a moment to bury his face into the child’s hair. She puts a determined thumb into her mouth and stares at your hand, still clutching the cookie. The trooper turns her in his arms and holds her up at eye level. “You are a menace, Leia. I thought we were gonna have to call in a search.”

It’s nice to have a name for that little displeased face. Leia regards the trooper for a moment before sticking her hand into his face. His eyes are impossibly warm as he pretends to gobble her fingers, and it is, quite frankly, cute as fuck. He turns his attention back to you, but just as he opens his mouth, the sound of a comm going off somewhere behind them cuts through the moment.

“That’ll be the General,” The white-haired trooper laughs. “You better take her and show him, before he raises down half of Coruscant trying to get here.”

Fives nods, flashing another blinding grin at you, before he and Leia are gone. The trooper you’re left with blows out a breath and scrubs a hand over his face. 

“Well,” he says, his mouth crooking into a wry smile. “That was exciting.” 

He sticks his hand out, and when you take it, his palm is rough and his grip firm. You give him your name without thinking about it, staring into the kind, golden depths of his eyes. They crinkle at the corners when he grins. 

“I’m Echo. And - I know Fives already said it, but seriously, thank you. Where the shab did you find her?”

“Trying to steal biscuits from my caf table,” you say, laughing openly when Echo drops his face back into his hand and groans with embarrassment. “I think she got in through the balcony door.”

“Force, we didn’t even think of that. What a first impression, you must think we’re idiots.” 

You shake your head, enamoured by the faint colour you can see rising in his cheeks. He brings his metal hand up to his face and presses the cool prosthetic against his skin. 

“Not at all. You should have seen the look she gave me when I found her, she knows she’s in charge.” 

Echo smiles bashfully. “It’s the first time we’ve ever won the lot to babysit the twins, our Company would have crucified us if we’d lost her.” 

“Then I’m very glad to have provided a rescue.” 

There’s a short silence as you fidget with your sleeves, strange anticipation churning in your gut. There’s no reason to keep standing here now that the pleasantries are done with, the baby exchanged, but...some part of you resists it, almost looking for an excuse to stay. He and Fives are the first new friendly faces you’ve met in a long time, soothing a sting you didn’t know was there.

“I - um -,” Echo begins suddenly, shifting a little. The colour in his face deepens. “I really like your plants. I’ve always meant to say something. We keep trying to guess what they are.” 

“Oh!” Your heart turns over in your chest and you wouldn’t be able to stop the smile bursting onto your face if you tried. Those damn things are so hard to keep alive through the unpredictable engineered weather. You don’t think you’re particularly house proud, but you do preen a little that he’s noticed. “Thank you, I, um, I water them every morning. I could...go through them with you one day? If you like?” 

Echo’s head dips an assent. “I’d really like that.” 

You linger a moment longer, a pleased thrill still lingering in your belly, but there’s no putting it off now. “I suppose I should let you go. But...please knock if you need anything.” 

Echo smiles. “Hopefully not in pursuit of any more babies.” 

You’re just about to turn away when you remember the cookie in your hand, slightly smushed now. “Oh! Can you give this to Leia? I wanted to make sure she could eat them, first, but I promised. Seemed only fair, since she went to all that trouble.” 

Echo huffs, his expression softening, taking the cookie with careful hands. “I’ll make sure her highness gets it.” 

Then you go back to your quiet apartment, somehow deflated when faced with the monotony of your knitting and your music. You hear a few more sounds from the other side of the wall, faint laughter, perhaps a child squealing, and find your curiosity has not been sated at all.

It’s a wonderful surprise, then, when two days later on a clear, sunlit morning, you slide open your balcony door to water the plants and find Echo waiting, his face tipped up to the brightening sky. There is a packet of cookies resting on the duracrete by his feet, and two steaming mugs of caf on the railing by his elbow. 

It feels like something special...It feels like a beginning. 

taglist // @nelba @leias-left-hair-bun @battletales @bad-batch-of-fics @iscream4clones @majorshiraharu @snippytano @missinashkin @808tsuika @eries45 @dom-i-nic // 

[lots-o-stuff]

Assorted teams with s/o hc

This is the last haikyuu characters with an S/O Headcanon post! I’m so happy with how they all turned out and if you want more headcanons with your favourite characters please request!!! I’m currently working on Some My Hero Academia Characters with their S/O soo keep an eye out for those.

Terushima

This bitch- ok scratch that i actually really like this man and he LOVES you

you are much quieter than him and he loves being able to make you relax and joke around

you two are really cute together though because Terushima looks like a little puppy who trying to impress you

he didn't want to introduce you to the team SPECIFICALLY because he wanted to keep you to himself they know about you though ;)

depending on who you are with/around he will choose to or no to show off

Aone

He is the DEFINITION of soft baby boi, and YOU are on snarky son of a b-

you are both extremely different and are an odd pair but neither of you would change it if you had the chance

You two love too go on those cute zoo/petting zoo/aquarium dates and seeing all the cute animals obviously Aone’s favourite was the turtle

He doesn't really introduce you to the team as you barge in right at the end of practice making yourself known

similar to his birthday bro Ushiwaka, he doesn't intentionally show you off but he still does

Futakuchi

another snarky/angry bitch I love anyway you are a blessing to Futakuchi i mean this angry boy finally feels at peace when with you so why wouldn't he be?

you two are honestly quite funny to be around because in public you don't act or even remotely seem like a couple but in private it’s so lovey dovey its sickening

you have really cute dates as well, i feel as though he would do ANYTHING for you so he would 100% go out of his way to set up the cutest picnic date with lights and everything

the team is honestly really confused by your guys’ relationship because you don’t act together in public but they can notice the difference, they notice how he is calmer around you and not picking fights

as made obvious he doesn't show you off but he won’t hesitate to prove to that guy your his ;)

Atsumu

ok I love him but wow you have a lot to put up with don’t you? but it’s fine because he absolutely loves and adores you

he would 100% tease you constantly and you better tease him back because honestly he LIVES for that fun laugh filled banter, im talking doing those, "It’s the ____ for me"  *cough*having a prettier twin*cough*

dates either range from the sweetest most heartfelt and cute things to the cheesiest corniest and borderline cringy ones either way they are fun as hell

the team honestly loves you because you distract him from bothering and annoying them

LOVES to show you off, I’m serious he would definitely pick you up whilst shouting "THIS IS THE PERSON I LOVE"

Osamu

Totally not the prettier twin but anyway he is amazing and would do anything for you lowkey a simp

You two probably met somewhere really mundane or boring such as at the supermarket or something idk i feel as though you saw each other and it was something interesting in a boring place type vibe

your dates 1000000000% consist of staying at home and trying to cook up some really fancy meal or having cooking competitions and i will take this to my grave

the team haven’t met you, that’s it, he doesn't want to share and doesn’t want anyone to even know about you but Atsumu had to run his mouth that ’Samu was dating and all grown up

So no he doesn’t show you off, maybe when you guys are together for longer but  no

Kita

this quiet precious man, i love him and he is DEVOTED to you, im talking bigger than a simp type shit

you are honestly really adorable together with your quiet natures and willingness to help others

your dates would be cute as shit i’m talking things like volunteering at a shelter, going to a book store and picking a book out for each other

The team loves you and the two of your are their adopted parents, no take backs

he doesn’t show you off he trusts you and doesn’t feel the need to but show him off please, it makes him feel special that your protective of him

Sakusa

This germaphobe will let you touch him, I don’t know how you did it but you broke his walls down enough to trust like that

You are very respectful of Sakusa’s boundaries and always tell him when you will touch him so he can tell you no, he is so thankful of you its ridiculous he wont tell you tho

all dates are at home, either of yours but at home where you both know there aren’t germs and he can be comfortable

another one that keeps you hidden from the team, if he could he’d hide you away from the whole world

he doesn’t show you off period. he’d probably get annoyed of you showed him off so be sneaky about it

Again I had so much fun with this and ngl i fucking love Kita just YES. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and please send me requests!

[btsfaris]

exes and oh’s

summary: sometimes you feel like San is too good to be true.. or maybe he’s too good for you? length: 1,758 pairing: choi san x insecure reader genre: angst, fluff, suggestive smut

-

San was such a bright and happy soul, despite his chiseled features and muscular frame, he was such a happy pill inside. He was the type of person to make new friends or talk to anyone randomly like they were close pals. That was one of the reasons you loved him so much, and you’re forever grateful that he has that sort of character–as you would probably not be dating had he not approached you first.

You were simply walking through downtown where all the shops were, to buy a few things you needed and the sweet scent of coffee coming from an open door to a cafe caught your attention. Not thinking too much of it, you walk in and look at the menu, deciding what you wanted to reward yourself with; after such a long day of shopping.

“I usually go for an white chocolate mocha–not too bitter and not too sweet,” a figure beside you speaks up and you jump slightly at the sound.

He gives you the sweetest smile, his eyes nearly closed and dimples on his smooth cheeks. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, just thought you needed a bit of help,” he continues to grin and you can’t help but to smile back.

“That’s okay.. I was going to get a caramel latte though, but thank you for the suggestion,” you give him a nod and he hums.

“So you like your coffee sweet? Guess it’s true what they say; you are what you eat,” he says, and a blush rises on your cheeks at the sudden compliment. Before you can get another word in, he is next in line and orders for himself. He turns around, handing you the receipt and you look at him confused before reading the small paper and seeing your order on there as well. When you look up, he gives you a soft wink and you bite back a swoon.

You bow at him thankfully, before turning to sit at the end of the cafe, far too shy to sit next to the handsome boy who just bought you a drink. Besides he seemed like he was nice to everyone, you really shouldn’t think much of it.

That is until the guy once again stands in front of you a few minutes later and places your coffee on the table before sitting down. “Kinda hoped you’d sit next to me,” he sighs playfully and looks at you with practically sparkling eyes. Seriously, could this guy get any cuter?

“I’m San by the way, I hope I’m not being rude and you’re just trying to get rid of me. It’s just that you’re very beautiful and I was hoping to get your number?” He gives you a hopeful look while you give him a confused one. This incredibly attractive person wants your number? Is he blind?

“O-Oh,” you blink repeatedly before nodding, and he takes out his phone almost instantaneously, handing it to you. You punch your number in before he gives you a quick call so you can have his number as well.

“Great, what’s your name love?” San smiles.

“It’s y/n,” you say softly.

From that point on, you texted daily and even went on a couple of dates. By the 5th date, San walked you to your door just like any other time but this time, finally asked you to be his girlfriend officially. Surprising you in all honesty, you never thought someone as perfect as him would be interested in someone like you. He was all around an amazing guy, with a bubbly personality and very dedicated to his career as an idol.

So here you are now, a few months into the relationship and at a friend’s birthday party with a bunch of other people you don’t really know. Originally you wanted to stay at home and watch movies on San’s only night off in weeks but after hours of begging, he managed to convince you to go out with him. You’re a couple drinks in and chatting against a wall with a childhood friend of his when a female voice cuts him off.

“Choi San? Is that you?” A pretty girl walks up and has a shocked look on her face.

“Lee Nari? What are you doing here?” San exclaims, a smile growing on his face.

“I came for (friend’s name)’s birthday of course? Did you forget we all went to the same high school as you?” She teases and you’re confused at the two.

“Ah, well it has been a long time,” he blushes, and for some reason it doesn’t settle well in your stomach at the sight. He seems to remember your presence before clearing his throat, “this is my girlfriend y/n,” he introduces you and she gives you a polite bow.

“And this is Nari, my uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “friend.”

“Just a friend huh? Wah, is the idol life finally getting to you? I didn’t date you for that long so I could be a friend,” she nudges him playfully and it seems to go over his head that she’s his ex when he retorts. “Yah, I’m still the same country boy I was years ago, I just dance and sing a little better.”

You keep quiet as the two interact for the next hour, wondering the real reason they’re not together anymore. They seemed like the perfect pair, she was equally as bubbly and energetic as him. Not to mention she was prettier, with a nicer smile that almost reminded you of San. The only thing you can come up with of their break up is that he left for his training and split, no loss of feelings necessarily and the thought is what makes you go at your breaking point.

Rather than telling San, you walk away from the pair and head outside for some air. Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk outside the apartment complex, you analyze your relationship with your sweet boyfriend so far. What exactly could you offer to him? He was far out of your league, a freaking idol of all things! Maybe this was your wake up call. That you weren’t meant to be with San after all.

It’s been a while since you’ve sat outside, and it only furthers your sadness since he hasn’t noticed your absence yet. Probably too busy flirting with Nari. You pull out your phone and sniff as tears start to roll down your cheeks, typing a message to San.

you: let’s end this 11:36pm

You’re about to walk home when a pair of hands pull you back into a hug. You know it’s San when he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Where have you been honey? I’ve been looking for you!” He chuckles, turning you around. When he sees your red eyes, his expression softens and he reaches out to pull you into an embrace. You swat his hand away and he looks shocked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Go back inside San, I don’t want to ruin the party for you,” you mumble, wiping your cheeks with your hands and continue walking.

“Wait, hold on,” he’s quick on his feet and pulls you back, “did I do something?”

“Can you just please leave me alone,” you huff, crossing your arms, “please check your phone too, maybe it’ll help.”

He’s confused, but pulls his phone out. “Y/n..” he whispers, looking up at you again with now watery eyes.

“I’m sorry San, this just isn’t going to work out,” you mumble, “tonight made me realize we’re just too different people, we just don’t belong together..”

“Y/n.. come on, you don’t mean that. W-We’re perfect, you’re perfect, you get me better than anyone!” His voice cracks, making your heart wince, “what can I do? how can I show you how much I love you?”

“Wouldn’t you rather be with Nari?” You mutter quietly, looking at your feet.

“Nari? Is this because of her?”

“San.. come on now, don’t tell me you don’t still have feelings for her. I saw the way you looked at her! You ignored me for an hour and flirted with her..” your eyes water again at the memory, “you guys just seemed to click, we’re not the same.”

“Of course we’re the same!-“ he throws his hands up in frustration with brows furrowed, “y/n I’m in love with you, not her! She’s my ex for a reason!”

“And you guys probably broke up because you left to Seoul right? Because of the distance? Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” you give him a look and he frowns.

“Partly yes–but she didn’t want me to go. She hated that I wanted to be an idol, she wanted a normal relationship and told me I was ridiculous for trying to follow my dream. How could I be with someone who wanted to hold me back?” He explains, a serious expression on his face that you’ve never seen before, “but with you it’s different, you support me 100%, you don’t care if I’m miles or countries away. You give me so much love and care that I’m so grateful for.”

He comes closer until he can hold onto your hands and you feel his body tremble, like he’s terrified to let you go, “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone more than I love you, so please don’t doubt yourself. Please don’t leave me, I need you.”

You’re sure your makeup is ruined completely at this point and black is covering your cheeks but you don’t care. “What if I’m not good enough for you? What if you’re wasting your time on someone like me?”

He sucks in a breath when he hears you finally voice your insecurities, “Baby, don’t you ever say that. If anyone is not good enough, it’s me,” he pulls you into his arms and pets your hair, “I’m always gone, and you’re always waiting for me. Sometimes I worry that a normal guy will walk in and take you away from me, give you the kind of relationship that I can’t give you. The kind that you deserve. But I’m a selfish man, and I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

“I want you anyway I can have you San, I love you,” you mumble into his neck and he lets out a shaky sigh as his embrace tightens at your words.

“Then please don’t ever think that you’re not enough for me, because even I don’t deserve you,” San gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“Okay,” you say softly and lift your head to look at him.

He gives you the familiar sparkly eyes that you’ve grown to adore and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. You stand there for minutes, holding each other close until you finally need air.

“Now let’s go home, so I can really show you how much I love you.”

[shortyisweird9]

'Lonely ghost serie'

Chek and heartache- part III

Tw⚠️:swearing, referring of dark themes such as suicide attempt and mental illness.

The morning rays hit your eyes gently, tangible by their warmth,as you forced yourself from another dream of nothing but blank.

You groaned as your cat,Didi, comes running towards you: purring, meowing and chirping in pure happiness. You knew the reason she does this; your previous cat, Martha or Dildo- your roommate Sergiu called her that because of her dickish attitude with him- used to do this everytime so the little one, Didi, just followed her mother's lead.

Everytime she does that is like a small needle stabs at your heart especially when just 2 weeks passed since Martha died of old age- the black cat was adopted when she was senior, abused and malnourished, your heart knew you couldn't leave her to be laid to rest like a nothing. You adopted her, she bit you and you petted her, she hissed you hugged her, you did everything you could think of to show love even brush her fur with a wet toothbrush end to mimic sweet kisses coming from her mom. The cat soon realized that and started living again. Cautious of your other 3 roommates, cuddly with you.

Anyway, you got sidetracked with reminiscing. You heard your friends in the kitchen, Sabrina throwing away the take out boxes and Sergiu preparing some tea, probably to calm his stomach after all the spicy curry he ate last night.

You fixed the oversized white t-shirt and pull the marine blue shorts out of your bottoms, Didi already waiting you by the door.

You all, Sabrina,Sergiu,Ace and you, live in a quaint apartment, turned from campus housing, right next to one of the malls of the city. It had two small bathrooms, a living room , three petite bedrooms ,a tiny kitchen, a rounded balcony and a hallway. It was much smaller than your family home but it was in a central zone where your family home was outside the city's boundaries. You chose it not only because you wanted to spare your family from driving you to university but also because you needed your freedom, your space. Your parents were very understanding of that.

-Y/n e trează? ( "Is Y/n awake?") Ace asked as he sipped on his black cofee.

Without, he would pretty much be a grumpy hedgehog with spiky tealish mohawk. And who wouldn't love that?

-Nu încă, ah! Uite-o! ("Not yet,ah! There she is") Sabrina exclaimed, getting up to hug you and leaving the smoking tea cup by the window.

"Hello." You said ,voice grungy and eyes shut from the light.

You felt the warm hands of your Arabic friend on your face filled with moles and couple of marks from recently popped pimples, you let yourself be engrossed into it ,the touch starvation you carry like a cross chosing for you.

You hear her laugh, she always had a pretty laugh and a prettier smile . She was the beauty of the group, with big puffy sand yellow curls, brown skin with red undertones and black eyes who glow in pure happiness. She was stunning and a sweetheart with an obsession on the colour red and butterflies.

"Someone is needy." Ace teased.

"Shut up or I will staple those hair triangles on your scalp. "

You wanted to say something better but Sabrina then started massaging your lower face in a circular manner with her thumb. You knew you couldn't do anything anymore except melt.

-Anyway ,unde e Sergiu? ("Anyway, where is Sergiu?")

-Ți-o făcut ceai, cane e pervaz. S-o dus până sus să o ajute pe Florentina.("He made you tea, the cup is on the windowsill. He went upstairs to help Florentina.") He said, taking another sip of his cup.

-Ooooh, Florentina. You two began as Ace shook his head in amusement.

You and Sabrina were known to be ruthless in your teasing of the guitarist with long brown locks and beard.

Florentina was a crush of his, a freshman in the University of Arts who played the violin beautifully. Small,with olive skin, long red hair keept in a 1960s hairstyle and green petite with a triangular shaped face. She was a sweetie with a love for fantasy book ,autumn and ferrets.

-Oh, yeah?

-Dup, iubitul ei se mută cu ea. ("Yup, her boyfriend moves in with her")

-Oh.

Ace sucked in his lip ,his face filled with disappointment just like theirs now.

-That sucks.

-Numai spune,Sabrina.("You don't say,Sabrina")

Just then, the door clicked shut. Sergiu is back, this will be awkward.

-Ce vă uitați așa la mine?("Why are you looking at me like that?")

Neither of them could properly looked into the warm brown eyes of the man whose glow seemed to fade a bit, Sergiu was a stubborn man who shut his feelings deep inside, only through his song you could tell he was suffering. Just like you, I suppose.

-Am auzit...("We heard...")

You bit your lips as your long fingers played with each other, twisting and tugging while your nerves grew. Last thing you wanted was another fight where you all force the man to open up. He had suicidal tendencies, sometimes he came too close to actually do it but you were there and you needed to be there now too, even if he doesn't like being taking care of.

Sergiu rolled his eyes at you, his heart hurt from how rigid your posture was, eyes were worried about him but also scared, teeth grinding themselves not out of anger but out of care and fear.

He knew you hated arguments and shouts with dying passion. You always cried when someone raised their voice in less than friendly manner, you hated this reaction of complete terror, you hated looking weak but now you hated letting your friend burn himself because of an unfortunate love triangle. So you swallowed your nerves and braved on, it's about him ,not you.

Sergiu wanted to protect you all from this negativity, especially you and Ace. You had a big event to organise , Ace's sex reassignment surgery is coming up soon. You both have your own problems to dwell ,you didn't need to have him as one too.

However somewhere in his head, a voice telling him that he was wrong ,that voice that took the shape of you in the night of July.

You were crying, your grey hoodie wet from the rain as you cling desperately to him, not daring to move.

He was the reason why you crying, why you yelled profanities our of worry for what he was about to do. He...He tried to throw himself off a bridge ,the same bridge you two first shared your kiss.

That dark episode still irked your minds in the darker moments, late in the night nothing but your mind to keep you company and that's torture in itself.

You thought you could help him, change whatever hurts him and make it go away. That was your biggest mistake, you can't change a person that's not your duty , your duty was to support them through tough times and help them see the light at the end of the dark tunnel. A duty you solemnly swore to uphold even if he didn't liked you to. There's no fucking way you let him do that again,not if you can be there for him. Like he was always there for you, your big guardian with a guitar that spews flames in shape of songs.

-Y/n..

-Te rog, Sergiu. Nu ascunde. ("Please, Sergiu. Don't hide.")

Your eyes were desperate for him to talk it out in any shape or form. They implore for him to vent, to not hid between fake lies like " I am okay" or "I'm fine."

-Bine,bine. Tu ești șefa. ("Fine,fine. You're the boss.")

————————————————————

They talked and talked and cried and laughed and cried again. A never ending circle of venting ,small earthquakes which instead of fracturing the friendship , it onlyakes it stronger as it should.

-Te simți mai bine?("You feeling better?") Your voice ran timidly on the top of your apartment building, watching over the brutalist styled architecture.

-Un pic, doare știi dar asta îmi arată cât de îndrăgostit sunt de ea. Iubirea adevărată pentru mine nu se referă doar la a iubi doar dacă te iubește reciproc, nu , să iubești fără să forțezi persoană să te iubească înapoi. Să îi porți de grijă, să o protejezi, să o ajuți fără să fi un egoist, fără să te aștepți să fi iubit înapoi. ("A little, it hurts you know but this shows how much I love her. True love for me doesn't mean to love just so they will love you back, no, to love someone without forcing them to love you back. To care for them, to protect them, to help them without being an egotistic, to love without expecting to be loved back.")

-Poetic.

He laughed at that , starring at the setting sun ,his lit cigar forgotten fumed between his painted fingers. His hair blown gently by the wind , he looked like a masterpiece.

-Scuze..pentru tot.("Sorry...for everything. ")

-N-ai de ce. Mi-ai făcut chec până la urmă așa că balanța eternă este restabilită.("You don't have a reason to be. You made me chek in the end and thus the eternal balance is restored.") You joked, munching quietly on the piece of cake, his jacket keeping you warm.

-Haha. Cine ar fi crezut că checul are fi o gustare bună când îți dai vent.("Haha. Who would have thought that chek will be a good snack when you vent.")

Indeed, who would have thought of that but one who cried in the sore days filled with heart ache.

————————————————————

Hey,guys!💖

Hope you like the third part of the serie, I wanted to focus on "your life" and your friends backgrounds this time. The translations are not 100% word to word but enought to give you context.

Anyway, I hope you like it. Stay safe!

Tagged 💗💗:@moolujk @gaysludge @simonsbluee @yoyoanaria @cherry-piee @magenta-skyline @yikesyikesyikes95

[spunky-89]

A Very Merry Christmas

A/N: Hellloooo, so I know it’s not the weekend, but in my defense, I lost a day. I thought today was Sunday but I have been informed I was wrong. Anywho, this will be a two-parter as I wrote soooo much it felt like I needed to snip it a bit. So without further ado, here is the next part (not in story timeline) of “Domestic(ish) Life”!!!!!

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3100

The second Thanksgiving ended, you were all in on Christmas. This was not new information to Steve and Bucky. Though Bucky only had a year under his belt where Steve had five. But they knew how much you loved the holiday so even when they weren’t really in the mood, they put on the Santa hats and smiled because it made you happy. And there was nothing they loved more than seeing you happy. ---------

“Come on, come on, come ooonnn,” You whined as you tried to drag the two super soldiers into the tent.

“We’re coming,” Steve laughed.

“Not fast enough.” you groaned and ditched them to head into the tent in front of them.

“I don’t understand why we don’t do this-”

“If you say the old fashion way I swear Bucky, I will murder you.” You glared as he came up behind you.

He put his hands up and laughed, “All right, message received.”

“Good, now put these muscles to use and pull that tree out for me.” You asked as you patted his chest and pointed to a tree towards the back.

You knew that you could actually go to a tree farm in New York, but your family had always gotten them from the tents at Home Depot, Lowes, or just a stand off the main road. It was one of the traditions you couldn’t let go of. That and needing to get a real tree, even when you were alone and had to drag it up to your apartment by yourself. 

Steve came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. The two of you shared a quiet laugh as you watched Bucky fight to get the tree you wanted from the pile. 

“Thank you for doing this with me. I know it’s kind of silly, but-”

“Hey, it’s not silly. It’s something you love and something that means a lot to you. You know we’re there if it means making you happy.” He said. Bucky then let out a string of curses under his breath as he finally got the tree out. “And I can’t say I don’t enjoy myself.”

You giggled and moved forward to evaluate the tree.

Two hours and three Tree Tents later, you had found your perfect tree. The boys helped bring it up and set it in its base. You smiled, clapped, and did a little dance once it was in place. 

“I’m glad you’re happy, but I am never doing that again,” Bucky grumbled.

“Aw come on, don’t be like that.” Steve teased.

“There is sap all in the groves of my hand. That shit is never coming out.” 

“Le gasp! We do not use that kind of language sir!” You exclaimed in fake shock.

“God I hate you guys.” 

“But seriously,” You giggled as you pecked Steve on the cheek in apology, “I told you to wear gloves. It is not my fault you didn’t listen.” 

“I didn’t think they were necessary!”

“Well, you should know that I’m always right and you should really listen to me more.” You smiled.

“Whatever, let’s just decorate it.”

“Sorry hunny, but we can’t decorate quite yet. We need to give it a day or two to make sure it’s all puffed out.”

“I have no idea what you just said or why that’s a thing,” Bucky stated as he plopped next to you on the couch. 

“It meeaanns, the trees from tents are usually all wrapped up, so it takes them some time to flatten out. So if we put lights and ornaments on it now, they are liable to just fall off once the branches have adjusted.” You explained.

“I see. I still think it’s stupid and next year we’re taking you to a tree farm.”

“Oh, so you’re already planning for next year huh?” You teased.

“You can’t get rid of me princess.” He said as he grabbed you and pulled you into his lap as he hugged you tight and layed kisses all over you while you giggled.

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

The boys were extremely unhappy when a mission popped up two weeks before Christmas. They were so excited to do all the fun Christmas things with you for your first official Christmas as a couple. You assured them it was fine, as it was just a day after all. You firmly held the belief that the day you celebrated didn’t matter, as long as you were celebrating with the ones you love. So off they went.

You were almost kind of glad they were gone. It gave you plenty of time to get their gifts done. You firstly picked up some of the gifts you and Bucky had discussed for Steve and the same with Bucky’s. You had all made the decision to include each other in the gift-giving process to make sure no one got the same things. It was working out pretty good. You did decide to do something extra for both the boys. You wanted to spoil them and it was something you’d been planning for a while anyway. So you got to work. Though you loved buying gifts, you also loved making them. It made you feel like it was just a touch more personal. Luckily you had some time off and were able to put it to use. You actually made it a girls’ night. Nat and Wanda weren’t needed for the mission, so you invited them and Pepper over. You all had a ball, mixing wine and crafts. Though they were all crafty in their own right, they always said your assistance and expertise made it way easier and the product much prettier. Some of the creations were just for fun, or in Pepper’s case, a fun gift to give the man who had pretty much everything.

“So what’s the deal with that?” Nat asked as she was laser-focused on her wine glass, not the one that was full, the one she was painting.

“Well, I’ve been working on this for months, bullying Tony and even enlisting Maria’s help to gather some relics from their past and- I don’t know. I thought it would be cute.” You said with a shrug.

“Oh it’s adorable, I just wasn’t sure what it was from or where you got the idea.” She assured you.

“Oh, it’s from one of my favorite movies.” You explained.

“I see,”

“Hey (Y/N/N), how do you use this thing again?” Wanda asked, staring at the Cricut with hatred in her eyes. You laughed as you put down what you were working on and went over to show her.

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

When the boys returned only five days later, they were thrilled. There was a minor concern that their mission would mess up the holidays, but luck was on your side for this one. But they were faced with a new problem. Christmas was coming fast, and they were stumped at what to get their girl. They knew very well she wasn’t super materialistic and cared more for small gestures then grand ones. But they were just so unsure of what to do. This was the first official Christmas as a triad, and they were panicking. 

“I feel like you gotta go jewelry, my man, it’s a classic,” Sam suggested when the boys brought their fears and worries to him.

“But that’s just it, it’s classic. She deserves more than that.” Bucky said with a groan.

“I don’t know, jewelry is pretty romantic. And it can be kind of personalized for her.”

“Still not what we’re looking for though,” Bucky argued.

“Hey, you asked for my help!”

“No Steve asked you. For some reason,”

“Stop it, both you.” Steve sighed, pinching his nose between his fingers and shaking his head.

“I’m just saying, I mean, how many successful relationships has he had?” Bucky asked,

“I’ve had relationships!”

“Name two that have lasted longer than 2 months.”

“Listen here-”

“Enough.”

The three men sat in silence for a while after that.

“What about a companion?” Asked a female voice. Steve and Sam jumped a bit at the sudden appearance of Natasha. 

“What?”

“Like a pet or something. I mean she’s always sad when she’s left alone when you guys go on missions.”

“No no, that part I got.” Bucky said, “But how the hell did you know what we were talking about?”

“You guys have been struggling for a week. It’s getting really close to Christmas, I gave an educated guess.”

“You scare me,” Sam said, completely straight-faced.

“Oh, I know that.” She said, smiling innocently at him.

“I don’t know Nat, an animal is so much work.” Steve said, “And they usually end up destroying a lot.” 

“Yeah, but (Y/N) is great with animals.” She argued.

“I don’t know,”

“I kinda like the idea.” Bucky chimed in.

“Of course you would. You want a pet just as much as she does.”

“All the more reason. It’s a two-for-one gift.” Bucky said a bright smile on his face.

“I hate you.”

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

An hour later the two men were at a local animal shelter asking the kind workers for help. The receptionist freaked out for a minute but was able to get over her shock and help them. They took a picture with her but made her promise not to post it anywhere until after Christmas as to not ruin the surprise. She willingly agreed.

“So, are you looking for a dog or a cat? Or something else?” She asked as she led them to a back office to talk so they wouldn’t be seen by others out in the main area. 

“Uh, we’re not really sure actually,” Steve admitted.

The woman laughed and had them sit down to chat.

“Okay, so this is for your mystery girlfriend I assume?”

“Yeah, we want to get her a companion for when we’re gone, but we’re not sure what would be best,” Bucky explained.

“Alright, does she have a preference for one type of animal?”

The two boys snorted. 

“Anything that has fur and four legs.” Bucky laughed, 

“Well, that’s not true, she also loves birds and bats.”

“Oh true, can’t forget the bats.” 

The woman looked at the two icons in front of her, fond smiles on their faces as they spoke of their lover. She hoped she could one day find someone who would look like that when they talked about her. “I feel that I'm the same way.” She laughed, “Unfortunately, we don’t rescue bats here but we have lots of furry friends.”

“Do have any animals that have been here for a while? Or any animals that you guys don’t think anyone is going to take?”

“Well, we have quite a few that have been here for a year or more, a few senior animals which are less popular, and then animals who have some form of illness or disability.”

“Not one with an illness or disability. Though I’m sure she would love it unconditionally, I think a healthy animal would be better.” Steve said.

“So judgmental Steve,” 

“Shut it punk,” Steve said as he glared. He turned back to the woman who was smiling as she watched the two men.

“Come on, I’ll show you a few different critters and you can see what you think will complete your family.”

She led them out the door and down a hallway. Immediately they could hear the barking. 

“So, these are some of the dogs who need special attention or are small enough we can fit them in the kennel. We have bigger dogs and healthy ones outside in big pens so they have room to roam.” The woman explained. 

She led them to a cage with a small shaggy terrier. It started yapping as soon as the boys walked up.

“So this is Nancy, she’s 3 years old and she’s been here for 8 months. She had some heartworms but she is finally done with treatment and is ready to find her forever home.”

The two boys shared a look.

“She’s cute but I don’t think we want a tiny dog,” Steve said.

“Specifically no yappers,” Bucky added.

The woman laughed and nodded, “I don’t blame you. But that will help our search a little bit.”

She then led them outside where they could see a number of fenced-in areas with dogs of all kinds running, sleeping, or playing with their toys.

“So, first we have Pluto, he’s a 6-year-old Lab/Pit mix. He’s a sweetheart but people get scared with him being part pitbull. He’s active but not so much that he’s too much to handle. He does enjoy going for walks and playing with his ball. He also loves tug-of-war, but I usually warn people about hurting their shoulders due to his strength, but I get the feeling you two won’t need to worry about that.” She smiled as she crouched down to call over the dog.

“Yeah, I think we’ve got that covered.” Steve laughed.

Bucky got down right next to the worker and started petting him through the fence.

“Oh, aren’t you a cutie. Oooh, you’re so sweet.” Bucky cooed.

“I’m gonna live to regret having you here aren’t I?”

“Listen, these cuties need someone to love them. Let me live my life.” Bucky snapped playfully defensive.

Steve laughed and they all moved on to the next dog, then onto cats, and finally the birds and small critters like hamsters and ferrets.

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

Their next stop was the pet store. They talked to the woman at the shelter about what supplies they would need and she gave them a detailed list with some things that weren’t necessary, but might be good to have.

They never realized how many toys you could get for animals. Needless to say, they were extra glad for the instructions as they would have been lost without them. They had put their new family member on hold to be picked up on Christmas Eve and somehow figure out how they were going to smuggle it into the apartment. But they would worry about that later. Right now they were arguing over colors.

“We should get the pink or purple, they’re girl colors,” Steve argued.

“Did you really just say that? Do you know what (Y/N) would say if she heard that?” Bucky asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Steve nodded, realizing his mistake.

“Obviously,”

“Don’t get smart with me punk.”

“Whatever, we still need to pick a color.”

“What about (F/C)?”

“No, that’s a weird shade. She would hate that.” 

“What about this one?” Steve asked, holding up a sparkly red/orange one with little brown flecks in it.

Bucky tilted his head. “It’s very fall, but I think she’ll love it.” 

“My thoughts exactly.”

“One thing down, a hundred to go.” Bucky sighed looking at the list.

“I don’t want to hear it, this is all on you pal. You wanted to do this.” Steve said.

“Oh I know, I have no regrets.”

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

Once they had all of the stuff, they made a quick stop to get bags, boxes, and wrapping paper. They knew they would have to wait until tomorrow to wrap their gifts as by now you were bound to be home from work and they had too much stuff to hide effectively. 

They were so glad they had figured this out because they were down to the wire. It was only five days till Christmas.

With it being so close to Christmas you were practically glowing and floating on air. There was constantly a Christmas candle burning and music playing. After all the stress of the year between missions and dealing with telling people about your relationship, the boys were glad to see you let loose and be happy. You were only minorly stressed out because you had offered to host a small Christmas Eve get together with a few of the team who didn’t already have plans. Though you would all be gathering at the Tower for Christmas dinner. But on Christmas Eve it was just going to be Sam, Wanda, Vision, Natasha, and Bruce.

You had grand plans of making all sorts of delicious baked goods for both meals, but on top of it, you had to make an actual dinner for Christmas Eve. But you were thrilled. You loved hosting events and you were ready to hold a holiday in your own space. The boys helped you clean everything and make sure all the presents for the team were wrapped, as well as the presents for each other. You managed to wrangle Steve into assisting you with some of the cooking and decorating of the desserts. Bucky had long been banned from the kitchen because he infamously ate everything and you would end up having to make more. So he was stuck on cleaning duty and doing other minor jobs for you. 

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

After a whirlwind of activity leading up to the big night, it was here. You all had discussed it and decided to get a bit dressed up, especially since Tony had decided that it was going to be a pajama dinner. So while the food was finished cooking, you got all dressed up in a dark red, sparkly, knee-length dress. You did your make-up and put on some jewelry before topping the look off with heels you knew you would take off within half an hour. Each of the boys stuck with a nice pair of jeans and a button-up. Both looked absolutely delicious. Not long after you all finished getting ready, you heard the first knock at the door.

As everyone arrived, wine and mixed drinks were served and you all gathered at the table for the meal. As they all sat, you stayed standing.

"Before we all enjoy this meal, I just wanted to say, thank you. This has been a rough year between missions gone wrong and huge fallouts. I want to say thank you for being my family when my family was being dicks. I firmly believe that family isn’t defined by blood but by love. I feel so incredibly lucky to have wonderful people like you surrounding me and trying to keep my dumbasses safe." Everyone laughed a bit, but your eyes had started tearing. "I love you guys. Thank you for accepting me into your family and for understanding that love comes in many forms. Merry Christmas." You finished, raising your glass, tears trickling down your cheeks. 

Everyone chorused a 'Merry Christmas' and you sat between your boys, who both squeezed your hands and kissed your cheeks. 

[svtegg]

hogwarts!svt (97line)

i feel like this one is a little longer than the other one?? idk but here u go!

Mingyu:

Gryffindor boy, the sorting hat didn’t even touch his head before the Gryffindor table erupted into applause

His father was a gryffindoor, his mom was a gryffindor, his grandmother was a gryffindor, his grandmothers grandmother was a gryffindor….do I need to continue?

Very very good at potions, despite being terribly clumsy

His favorite subject however is transfiguration

Once turned himself into half human half goblet….. a human sized goblet with two freakishly long feet

And the Transfiguration Professor, Mr Rodney Silvering, had to get Minghao to walk him to the hospital wing because Mr Silvering couldnt stop laughing

He’s a well-liked goof, very gullible and charming, everyone knows him but he’s bad at remembering names so he doesn’t always know who the person he just had a 5 minute chat with was 

Often falls victim to Jihoon, Jeonghan or Seungkwan’s feet binding jinxes

Once broke his nose from a jinx Seungkwan had shoot at him as they walked up the moving staircase and Seungkwan has been eternally sorry since, gifting him a new set of Quidditch Keeper gloves and a helmet for christmas 

Jihoon, Mingyu and Minghao are the only members of the N.M.P.C (Non-Magical Paint Club)... Mingyu started it after starting Muggle Art in his fifth year....and he found out he loved painting.......so the Headmaster gave the three of them persmission to use the room of requirement as a clubroom 

Mingyu is the keeper on the Gryffindoor quidditch team, and once fell off his broom mid-match because he got distracted by an Alicantro flying above him

Jeonghan had to take him to the hospital wing with a couple broken fingers and a broken rib

Often talks to the portraits, they all know him by first name because he stubles up the stairs even five years after he first started at Hogwarts

Does okay in school, but is terrible at History of Magic

Joshua often tries to help him study because he’s the only one that doesn’t get annoyed at Mingyu’s whining 

He could be a good duelist if he wasn’t so scared of being hit by stupefy

Jihoon tries to help him get over his fear of the stupify charm by surprisingly casting it at him when Mingyu isn’t paying attention

Mingyu loves Wonu’s cat Pocha,,,pocha doesn’t love him back…….

Has a pet fire dwelling salamander that his sister Minseo caught for him when she was five, its name is Scarlet

Scarlet is currently around 14 years old and Mingyu was extremely relieved when Seungkwan told him that salamanders often live to be over 20 years if they live a happy life

He’s often seen hanging around the great hall with Seungcheol, Vernon, Seokmin, Chan and Seungkwan His other favorite spot is by the lake, where Jeonghan, Junhui and Seungkwan often skip stones and sneak prank supplies into school grounds through a secret passage in the boat house

Mingyu is on lookout duty but his heart is still beating out of his chest as he sits by the water waiting for the rest of the guys to return

Mingyu’s wand is a greyish brown Alderwood with a beautifully corset like carved handle. Unicorn hair core, 12.5 inches

His patonus is a Stag with an impressive antlers

Seokmin:

A gryffindor that doesnt think he deserves to be a gryffindor

Not because he’s a coward or unloyal or any of that sort

He just doesn’t think he deserves it….plot twist….he does

Seokmin is one of the bravest people in his year…..he dares to be loud, different and weird n is often the center of attention during lunch 

His laugh can be regcognised all the way from the quidditch bleachers to the owl tower

He’s also extremely loyal to his friends and the people he cares about and his moral compass is his path in life.....will stand up for anyone he thinks 

This boy thinks doing the right thing is so so important and deeply cares for everyone he knows

Even people he barely knows the name of

He rooms with Mingyu and is seatmates with Minghao

Seokmin’s favorite subjects are Herbology, Potions and Charms and this is based purely on the fact that these subjects are key to becoming a healer

Because Seokmin wants to become a healer!!! Maybe he’ll work at St.Mungos,,or maybe the hospital wing at Hogwarts,,.,,.,…who knows! Not him! He doesn’t rly care either he just wants to be a healer

That smile can heal though

Often volunteers to help in the hospital wing n all the matrons that work there adore him!! The cheif matron, Ms Corck, made him his own little desk in the office room and he’ll often sit there when he needs some room for himself

He also loves Care For Magical Creatures bc he loves animals n wants to learn everything about them, even though he’s lowkey scared of the Hippogriff that lives by the Owl Tower

Loves the bowtruckle family that lives on Soonyoungs bed though!! Often brings them food when he sneaks into the Hufflepuff common room

Seokmin, Seungkwan and Jun often spend time in the Owlery, Seungkwan and Jun taking care of their owls and Seokmin chatting and petting the owls that doesn’t get as much attention as some of the bigger and prettier owls

Studies very hard n often falls asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace in the gryffindoor common room leaving Mingyu or Seungcheol w the task to get him up to his room and into his bed

The great hall is his domain, and he often hangs there to battle Wonu and Soonyoung in Wizards Chess

Seokmin doesn’t have a lot of friends like Seungkwan, Jeonghan or Seungcheol but everyone seems to know who he is

Known for his amazing singing voice and he’ll often attract a small audience of people when he hums on a ballad while he sits in the viaduct courtyard with Jihoon, Seungcheol, Jun and Chan 

He’s best friends with the portrait of the fat lady and knows a lot of the passwords for the secret passages

Keeps books from the restricted section under his bed.....Maybe Minghao and Vernon stole them for him maybe they didn’t who knows

Seokmin’s wand is made of willow with a phoenix feather core. 11.5 inches, light wood with a charmin twisted handle

His patronus is a St. Bernhard dog, Seokmin was also the first in his group to cast the patronus spell successfully, thinking about his happiest memory (when his friends had gotten him a surprise birthday gift and took him to see a quidditch match)

Minghao:

Slytherin through and through

Pureblood, family history in Slytherin

A true Slytherin, his resourceful and cunning ways shining through

He’s the Slytherin seeker, one of the best in years says the flying instructor

A disciplined and good duelist as well as a top student

He’s basically Slytherins pride, and teachers often try to convince him to become a prefect

Minghao is truly a calm and compassionate soul, his favorite subjects being Care For Magical Creatures and Muggle Studies

He often seats with Seokmin in lectures……Except for in Astrology…..He sits with a random boy from Ravenclaw in that class because Mingyu steals Seokmin bc they sit at the back and nap

His favorite spot is the secret staircase leading down to the pathway down to the boathouse, he will often sit there and read, sometimes alone, sometimes with one or two of his friends

Hangs with Mingyu, Jihoon, Vernon and Jun a lot......they like hanging in the ravenclaw duelling arena........tee hee

Spends a lot of time with the Quidditch players of his friend group...Seungcheol, Jun, Soonyoung, Jihoon, Mingyu and Chan 

They often sit in the Quidditch Pitch changing rooms

Genuinely interested in his friends interests and often reads books on Care Of Magical Creatures to discuss with Seungkwan and Seokmin, or Potion recipes to talk about with Mingyu and Joshua,,, talks Quidditch with Jun, Soonyoung, Chan and Seungcheol, reads up on muggle music to have a topic to chat about with Vernon and Jihoon, reads up on Magical Theory to ask Wonu some insightful questions

He just cares a lot but doesn’t show it in a typical way

He kinda looks out for his friends from the sidelines u kno

He doesn’t really care about rules or authority bc he never gets caught when he breaks the rules anyway bc he’s a master...planner

Knows a lot of secret rooms around the castle,,, esp the secret passage that leads from the clocktower courtyard to the back of the restricted sections of the library

Spends a lot of time with Jihoon in the Slytherin common room, often discussing muggle instruments and bands

Minghao is well liked, and takes good care of the younger students in his house, often becoming somewhat of a mentor for them as he helps them understand their curriculum and explains the basics of Divination and Study of Ancient Runes to the confused third years

He doesn’t keep pets, but is very friendly with the Thestrals that pull the carriages from the train tracks and up to the forest each semester starts

Minghao’s wand is white wooden Aspen with golden rims around the handle and a blue sapphire fastened at the bottom. 8 inches, long slender pointy tip, Unicorn hair core.

His patronus is a black sable mitt ferret, tiny but feisty and long skinny bodies, just like him! jskjdskj

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #214

“if you are dead or still alive, i don’t care.”

Do you wear perfume or cologne? Very very rarely. Typically if I have to go somewhere formal or something. What was your favorite grade in elementary school? Probably 5th. Do you own a debit card? No. A credit card? No. Are you in debt? I don't pay for anything that could cause me to be in debt. When is your birthday? February 5th. What song are you listening to now? "I Don't Care" by Apocalyptica. What was the most traumatic experience of your life? The breakup with Jason. Have you ever lost a friend to drugs or alcohol? Kinda. Who was your childhood best friend? Her name was Brianna. Are you still friends now? We just drifted apart. If not, why? ^ Do you believe in Karma? Nope. What do you thinks happens to us when we die? I don't pretend to know. I hope some sort of eternal peace for those deserving, but who the hell knows. What age do you think you’ll die? Idk. 70s/80s? My grandparents lived pretty long. About how long was the last book you read? I haven't a clue. Have you ever read a play before? Yeah, in school. A play not written by Shakespeare? I don't think so. Have you ever read a play outside of school? No. Have you ever edited Wikipedia? No. Have you ever edited any other wiki? A lot... I'm one of the admins at the Silent Hill wiki, a content mod or something I don't remember on the SotC one, and I occasionally edit the meerkats wiki, which is an atrocious mess that I try to clean up where I can. Is there a website [besides social networking] that you check almost daily? A lot. Do you use your phone as an alarm? Yep. Do you listen to music while you sleep? No. Do you get scared when you know some virus or sickness is being passed? I don't get "scared," just very paranoid of germs. Are you realistic? In some ways. Do you own a romper?  No. What popular social media platforms AREN’T you on? Snapchat, and then I have a Twitter solely to like Mark's shit lmao. What does your computer’s slow-loading cursor look like? It's a spinning light blue ring. Do you prefer Microsoft Word or Pages? I've never heard of the latter, so. Would you rather have a trampoline or swimming pool? A pool, please. Do you have the same favorite colors you had when you were a kid? Pink, yes. What do you like to put in your tea? N/A What do you like to put in smoothies? I don't really drink them. Do your stuffed animals have names? Some. What was the name of the first porcelain doll you got? Bitch miss me with that haunted doll shit. Do you sell any products? If so, what? No. Do you know how to knit? No. Do you have an inspiration board? I have one on Pinterest of hair colors I like. Do you have a colored teddy bear? Maybe up in the attic somewhere. On what day is your local grocery store the busiest? I'm sure it's the weekend. What day do you usually go grocery shopping? Mom doesn't have a designated "day." Do you own a bobblehead? No. What do you make wishes on? Nothing. Wishes aren't magic. Well, I do on birthday candles, but that's only as a tradition sorta thing. What’s the best natural pain reliever? It depends; sometimes nothing natural works. What’s your favorite Paramore song? "That's What You Get," probably. Do you like scrambled eggs? Yes. Have you ever made a recipe you found in a magazine? No. Have you ever done a craft that you saw in a magazine? I don't believe so. Are you bitter about anything? I am permanently and inexplicably bitter towards my former primary doctor that fucked up my entire body thanks to keeping me on a medication and her being an ignorant fuck to the side effects, apparently. What is your favorite color for cars? Burnt orange. What is your favorite color for bridesmaid dresses? *shrugs* If applicable, what’s your favorite dance costume that you’ve had? It was some sort of black dress-ish thing. I can't remember clearly. What’s your favorite flavor of mouthwash? Minty? Just ffs don't have alcohol in it. Do you drink CapriSuns? If there's nothing else to drink, sure. Do you prefer caramel or peanut butter? Peanut butter, I think. Do you like strawberry shortcake? No. Do you like butterflies? Yeah, they're my fave insect. Do you know any dances? Only the ones that literally tell you what simple move to do lmao. Did you go anywhere yesterday? No. Do you like yellow or blue more? Blue. Do you wear rings? Only one. What’s the last you got out of the freezer? French toast sticks for lunch yesterday. How often do you go for walks? Never, sadly. Walking along my road is scary with how busy it is, I CANNOT handle the heat, and for the time being, I can't walk far at all with my knee problem. Do you go on the computer or watch TV more? I say enough I don't watch TV, but I'm always on my laptop. What is something you’ll never eat again? Why? Brussel sprouts. 'Cuz they're fucking disgusting. What is currently happening that is scaring you? Abortion rights being taken away/wrongly modified is pretty scary, honestly. What would be your personal hell? The Christian Hell because fuck that heat lmao. What made the ‘weird kid’ at your school weird? He, I shit you not, would not say a word, but if he absolutely had to speak, he kept it very very short and quiet. He was always looking down and isolated himself. I felt really bad for him; he was so obviously depressed, but I was always too unsure of how to approach him and try to be a friend. What is a word you personally find offensive? "Retarded" when used incorrectly. What instantly puts you to sleep? Instantly go to sleep??? Please teach me how. What song is in a language you don’t speak, but you love it anyway? Well, I don't speak German fluently, so like, a shitload of Rammstein songs. What is something you would like to do if you weren’t judged for doing it? Tbh cosplay sounds so fun. What’s a movie you think everyone should watch? Why that one? Johnny Got His Gun. It shows just how fucking disgusting war is. What was the most unexpected good thing that’s ever happened to you? Senpai Noticed Me. What is the funniest fact you know? Idk. Oh, I might be mistaken, but I think the guy who invented the segway died via driving off a cliff on a segway. Big 'ole oof. What’s the kindest way a stranger has treated you? I remember as a little kid, the people in front of us in line at McDonald's paid for our meal. What is the biggest design flaw of your body? I have this random, deep dimple on my right ass cheek like what the fuck. What is the strangest thing you have ever felt? OKAY SO when I was in the process of having my ears cleaned back when I had that wax adhered to my eardrums, one step was having warm water like pounded into my ears, and it somewhat tickled but also felt oddly good, and it was just really weird. What makes someone immediately unlikable? Acting like they're above everyone else. Who’s a villain you sympathize with and why? Darkiplier hunny my poor husband. I won't answer "why" because yeah spoilers. What is something you regret to NOT have done? Fuck it, I wish I'd had *complete* sex w/ Jason. I was in love with him, and I'll probably never experience genuine sex again so like- What’s the weirdest thing you put in a microwave? Idk? What movie changed your life for the better? I'm not sure. Oh, wait, I remember when I was still Christian, God's Not Dead really touched me, but we know how I am religiously now. What’s something your relatives don’t know about you? Many probably don't know I'm bi. What’s something your parents did, which you have sworn never to do? Have children before marriage. Back when I wanted kids. What’s the most annoying thing your pet does? My cat is obsessed with trying to lie on me as he'd done as a kitten, but then I can't see over him to see the laptop. Teddy scratches a lot and won't listen to "stop" for anything. What’s the biggest sum of money you’ve won? Uhhhh. I have no clue. Have I ever? Idk. Have you ever smoked weed on April 20? No. Tell me about the last event that made you really, truly happy? Oh boy. Can you name three good things about your most recent ex? He's funny as fuck, super intelligent, and hard-working. Have you ever thought about how the world will end? Yeah. What object do you own that has the most sentimental value to you? The pebble I got from my partial hospitalization program. What’s the best memory you have of your father? Him teaching me to ride a bike. What was on the last sandwich you ate? Ham, cheese, and mustard. Do you prefer gold or silver jewelry? Silver matches more things, but I'm allergic to it. I find gold in general prettier, too. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. What is your favorite Thai dish? Never tried Thai food. When was the last time you made out with somebody? February. Are there any candles in your bedroom, and what scent are they? No. When was the last time you went to a birthday party? Last month for my niece. What pet names do you use with your significant other? A whole lot. What brand is your toaster, if you have one? We don't have a toaster, but a toaster oven. I don't have the slightest clue what brand it is; it's ancient. Have you ever dated a smoker? If not, would you? No and nope. What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? Wal-Mart or Harris Teeter. Would you rather travel to Japan or Scotland? Oh man, I don't know! I guess Scotland. Does your house have a porch/balcony? We have a decently-sized back porch. There's a front one as well, but it's tiny. What was the last movie you saw and who did you watch it with? I watched The Shining by myself. What’s your favorite type of bread? Pumpernickel. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes. Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage? No. What time does the sun go down where you live at this time of the year? Like, 8:30-ish. Would you rather pay to get your nails done or do them yourself? If I literally had to get them done for whatever reason, I guess I'd pay. Me doing them myself would be a nightmare, especially with tremors. Did you ever fail your learners/drivers test? I haven't taken it yet. Do you have any stickers on your car? I don't have my own car. Blackberry, Droid, or iPhone? iPhones. Do you like diet soda? NO. I don't just not like the taste, but the artificial sweetener gives me crazy headaches. Do you watch Pretty Little Liars? No. Have you ever gotten a speeding ticket? No. How old were you the first time you drank alcohol? I don't remember. WAIT shit dude, I was young. I grew up going to a Catholic church, and during that "eating the blood and body of Christ" thing (I forgot what it's called), we sipped real wine. Yes, even the kids. That shit was NOT grape juice. Name someone you’ve become a lot closer to recently: No one. What was the last fight you had with your parents about? Dad, I've got no clue. Mom, about her constantly shit-talking my dad and I no longer wanted to hear any of it in my presence. Does your car have a sunroof? N/A Did you ever have braces? Yes. Are you from the South? Yes. What does your last status on Facebook say? It was something about the bullshit Alabama abortion law, I believe. I barely ever ever make my own statuses. Do you tip your server when you go to a restaurant? I never can because yeah, no money, so I can't even pay for the meal. If I could, of course I would. Have you ever snuck out of your house? No. Are you friends with people on Facebook that you actually hate? No? Name your favorite Ke$ha song: I guess "Take It Off." What’s your favorite place? Ah man, the tattoo/piercing parlor I go to. What was the last comic book you read? It was one of the Silent Hill ones on the app years ago. What’s the worst trouble you’ve ever gotten into? Probably when I ran away from home in like middle school. Do you know anyone your age who has a child? A good number, but I mean I'm 23 so that's not exactly strange. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? A few. The last time you threw up, what caused it? Medicine that was known for nausea. Did you have any foreign exchange students at your high school? I don't think so? Any foods from other countries you would like to try but haven’t yet? Not off the top of my head. Do you think the world would be more peaceful without any religion? Maybe. Probably. Idk. Have you kept the same icon here for a long time? Yeah. I don't really take pictures of myself, so. Why did you choose your icon, anyway? It's the most accurate representation of how I look on the daily. And it's not horrendous. Does it hurt your feelings when people talk shit about things you love? Sometimes. It doesn't hurt my feelings, but rather it makes me deathly embarrassed because I feel stupid for liking it and like they're making fun of a part of me. Can you be friends with people with opposing political views? Yes. Are there any fandoms you used to be in, but left? I don't think I exactly "left" them, just lost big interest, like Rhett & Link/GMM. I still love the guys, but I don't watch them anymore. Warriors is another example. Do you prefer ruffly or regular potato chips? Ruffled. Do you write down your own recipes, or just commit them to memory? I don't cook. Can you do any impressions? No. What color do you want to dye your hair? Currently I want to dye it lilac, but I can't afford a professional to do that. What is a food you enjoy, but don’t have very often? Shrimp. Favorite fictional world? Wonderland. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want to. Have you ever had to use it? N/A Have you ever been kicked out of a public place? Why? No. Do you donate to any associations that care for animals? I don't have my own money. Have you ever worn those Drunk Goggles? Yes, in D.A.R.E. Can you agree to disagree, or usually get upset over conflicting views? It depends on the topic, but it's generally very easy for me to agree to disagree. Rodeos – entertaining, or cruel? Animal abuse. Who is the best female rocker? Why? Ohhhh good question. I like Lita Ford, for one; great singer and she fucking slays the guitar. She seems cool, too. Do you care what kind of toilet paper you use? Not really, no. Do you still have any decent arcades nearby? No. Bullfighters who get gored kind of had it coming, right? Yes. They fucking deserve it. Have you ever accidentally found porn when looking for something else? Thank God no. What do you like on your burger? Cheese, ketchup, mustard, a little bit of mayo is fine but not mandatory, pickles, and very little onion is okay. What do you NOT like on your burger? Lettuce and tomato. Do you like 'loose meat’ sandwiches? Like sloppy joes? Yeah. Have you ever seen an unwrapped mummy in person? No, but that'd be pretty fucking cool. What things have people shamed you for? Besides the obvious disagreements like political subjects, I don't know. Do you always reply to private messages? (On any website) Yes, unless it's spam or advertisement. Are there any 'adult stores’ in your area? I wouldn't know. Have you been inside of them/shopped there before? No. Who was your favorite actress to play Morticia Addams? Anjelica Huston. What is the next film you want to rewatch? Idk. I don't really watch TV or movies to begin with. What is the next film you want to see for the first time? I've been wanting to see Jacob's Ladder for a very long time, but I have to find a time I actually *really* feel like it to possibly enjoy it. A movie you love even though it’s cheesy? I'm sure there's something, but idk. Share any song lyrics you misheard? When I heard "Purple Haze" by Jimi Hendrix for the first time, I swore the lyrics were "excuse me while I kiss this guy" instead of "kiss the sky." What was the last song you heard for the first time and enjoyed? I both enjoy "Bad Girl" by Avril Lavigne and see it cringy as fuck at the same time. Who are some of your favorite female fictional characters, and why? Heather Mason from Silent Hill 3 is up high 'cuz she's a badass, CYNDER FROM THE LEGEND OF SPYRO SERIES BECAUSE SHE'S COOL AS ALL HECKIN' HECK AND ALSO #AESTHETIC, and I've fallen more and more in love with Tyrande Whisperwind from World of Warcraft now that she's become vengeance-crazed and more interesting than she already was. Oh, and then there's Bayonetta. Why? You know why. A character (in anything) you wish hadn’t been killed off? In recent news, BRING BACK STAN THE MOTHERFUCKING WATER MAN, MARK. Have you ever had to hit up several stores in search of one item? What was it? I'm sure I have at some point. Do you have any calluses on your feet? From when I used to walk outside for hours, you have no idea- What was your last big purchase? A plane ticket. Have you ever eaten grits? I HATE THEM SO MUCH. Do you always dress right after a shower, or do you like to chill in your towel/robe for a while? I put clothes on right away. Have you ever looked up your state’s laws and read them? I don't think so. Have you ever had to talk to a lawyer? I feel like I did have to once for something...? Have you ever been in pain so bad you passed out? No. I sincerely don't know how I didn't when I had to get that cyst drained, though. I have no words for that pain. Can you have kids? Well, physically, yeah. Doesn't mean I ever will or even want to. If you could get rid of one of your allergies, which one would it be? POLLEN. Do you have any cousins that look like you? No. Who do you know who is dating someone that looks way too old for them? Idk. Have you ever gone on a Facebook deleting spree? Yeah. What's a good example of "don’t knock it till you try it"? Waffles with peanut butter spread over them with syrup. What is surprisingly painful? Hm. "Surprisingly." OH, something I say as well as many others: Getting your nose pierced is more painful than you'd think compared to other piercings. Which person shaped you the most? Probably Jason. Or Mom. Have you ever been 4-wheeling? Yes. Do you live anywhere near the woods? There's a wooded area beyond the field. Do you have any important anniversaries you celebrate? Mine and Sara's. Can you rap? I don't even have to try to say no. Do you know how to use a DSLR camera? Yes. Tell me about the sickest you’ve ever felt. Oh man... I remember in elementary school, 3rd grade I think, I had the weirdest 3-day "sickness" where I felt every single moment like I was right on the very verge of vomiting. I went to the ER on the third night, but they couldn't detect what was wrong. Next day, I woke up miraculously fine. Those days were horrifying for someone who is terrified of vomiting. Any important birthdays coming up? My nephew's isn't far off. If you could play one instrument flawlessly, what would it be? Electric guitar. Have you ever heard of Hollywood Undead? Do you like them? I love some songs, like others, don't enjoy or care about a handful, and then truly haven't heard most. Have your friends ever told you something really personal? Was it weird? Well yeah, close friends do that often. It's not weird. Has anyone ever called you a coward before? Who called you that? No. Have you ever written a whole song before? What was the title to it? No. Are you a Jeffree Star fan? Or no? Do you think he’s awesome/dumb? I loooove that funky alien man. I find his work ethic incredibly inspiring and he seems so super accepting and is just very radiant and positive. Has your grandmother ever made you anything? Not including cookies. I don't think so.

[popatochisssp]

Fur a Good Time, Call... 14/15

Series: Undertale, Horrortale Relationship(s): HT!Sans/Reader, HT!Papyrus & Reader, HT!Sans & HT!Papyrus Chapter Warnings: suicidal ideation, self-harm, reference to suicide and character death, permanent injuries (all past, but described in flashback-form)

You work at an animal shelter. You love all your fuzzy buddies and can’t imagine a better job for yourself than looking after cats and dogs all day, even when the work is hard and often gross. What can you say? You’ve got a lot of love to give!

You’re just not quite sure yet how you feel about the new monster who’s been helping out these days, and this riddle wrapped up in an enigma is something you just can’t resist investigating…

AO3 Link

sans

Life goes on.

Animals come in and out of the shelter and you help them as best as you can, just like it’s always been, but there are differences to be sure.

You’ve never gone so long without straining your back on a jumbo pallet of dog food, and you’ve never gone half as long without tearing up at work over a hard case or somebody finally going off to a well-deserved home.

You attribute both of those to your big, sweet skeleton beau—Sans is always happy to help you out, whether with an easy bit of heavy lifting or a quick joke to make you smile, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have him in your life.

His brother is, naturally, just as much of a delight. Papyrus continues to be your absolute best friend and even with his busy schedule and his new popularity ever since that first night at Grillby’s, he never fails to make time for you, too.

Your dog-dates continue, just you and Buddy and Pap playing around at the park with only the occasional surprise guest. Mostly, it’s Sans popping in unexpectedly, but from time to time it’ll even be Dino’s son.

When Papyrus first tries to quietly apologize for bringing Dino Junior along, or maybe just to explain that he hadn’t wanted to disappoint the kid, you wave him off. You can tell right off that DJ really is Papyrus’ biggest fan, surprisingly earnest for a teenager and hanging on every grand and dramatic word Pap says like he takes it all to heart.

He’s a very sweet kid and you don’t think he could’ve picked a better role-model. If he wants to come chill with you guys in the park for a game of fetch every now and again, you’re hardly about to turn him away.

You get plenty of solo-time with skeletons as it is. Between hangouts with the brothers and your countless dates and snuggle sessions with Sans, you’re already spending so much time at their house that you could probably move in and hardly anything would change.

There’s really probably only one thing you would even want to change.

You haven’t quite managed to say the l-word to Sans just yet.

It’s not exactly for lack of trying, it just always seems to feel like the wrong moment to say it: like the mood is weird or the timing is off or somebody interrupts with impeccable comedic timing you’d never actually seen outside of a sitcom.

It’s far from a major concern of yours, though.

You’re happy, you love your bonefriend, and one of these days, you’re even going to tell him so.

Life is good.

-

You’re in the middle of a cuddly, giggly necking session on Sans’ bed when he pulls away from you, reluctant yet determined.

“hey, hey, c’mon,” he murmurs as you chase him, pressing a cheeky smooch to his vertebrae. “wait a minute, i want…i wanna try something…”

“Kinky,” you reply on instinct.

Sans chuckles. “not that kinda somethin’, jeez…”

Well, your curiosity is piqued. “What kind of something is it, then?”

“it, uh…it’s a monster thing. humans don’t…least i don’t think they do…” Sans is starting to look…genuinely worried, actually. It sobers you up a little and you sit back on your heels as he tries to explain. “it’s…it’s kind of a big deal? now that, uh…now that i’m thinkin’ about it… maybe you don’t wanna—”

“Sans.” He lets you cut him off, his eye-light small and nervous, but attentive. “Can I at least hear the thing before you decide I said no?”

“……eheheheheheheh…sorry. got in my own head there a lil bit.” Sans gives you a sheepish grin and you know what’s coming before he even says it. “guess i’m a numbskull that way.”

It gets a snicker out of you, anyway.

“Yeah, but you’re my numbskull,” you say, giving his nasal ridge a playful flick. “So, what’s this big deal monster thing that I probably don’t want to do?”

You watch Sans take a breath, steeling himself.

“i…i wanna share souls with you.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. That was not on the list of things you’d expected to hear…mostly because…

“I…have no idea what that is.”

“heheheh…toldja it was a monster thing.”

“I didn’t think you were lying. Can you…explain what it is? In small human words, maybe?”

Sans seems to be mulling it over, carefully cherry-picking his words.

“it’s…it’s everything,” he says slowly. “it’s knowing each other all the way, no secrets…no important ones, anyway. it’s…getting inside each other’s head, seeing what makes ‘em tick, why and how they are…who they are. all of it.”

“Like…like drifting?” When you see complete and utter confusion on Sans’ face, it occurs to you that a Pacific Rim reference is a little too modern. Only the really old or obscure human media seemed to have made it Underground before the monsters surfaced, so you try again with something a little farther back. “Vulcan mind-meld?”

That gets a spark of recognition.

“yes. that. it’s like that. just…” He frowns a little. “more intimate…? maybe? it’s not…y’wouldn’t…go around sharin’ your soul with a stranger, it’s…it’s pretty much just for…for…”

“Relationships?” you guess. “Like…ours?”

Sans grins again, relieved that you’re following along without much trouble, no doubt. “yeah. it…i don’t think humans have an equivalent. it’s a big step, i…ya’ don’t do it unless it’s…serious.”

“‘Marriage’ serious?”

“mmm…almost? kinda. not that far.” His skull flushes slate blue as he belatedly finishes processing what you said. “i…! i’m not asking…! this isn’t…!”

The panicked look on Sans’ face is too much and you have to laugh.

“Oh, stars, baby, relax, relax! I know, don’t freak out, this is just…us trying to get on the same page.” You reach up, petting at his clavicle, and he sags a little beneath your touch.

“not, uh…not that i don’t like ya’,” he adds weakly. “that’s…that’s kinda the whole point, i just…we…”

There’s no possible way for him to talk himself out of this particular hole. As endearing as it is to watch him try, you decide to have a little mercy.

“Hey,” you say, interrupting his rambling, back-tracking train of thought. “Is it permanent? Like…a bond or something?”

“uh. no, nah, it’s just a thing ya’ do. but…” Sans takes your shoulders in his hands, looking at you very seriously. “it’s intimate, i can’t say that enough, babe. it’s you, all of you, no take-backs or…or hidin’ stuff.”

“…Not even the embarrassing junk from middle school?”

You didn’t think anybody got out of adolescence without a cringe-worthy happening or two and you were no exception.

Sans shrugs a little. “not if it’s important,” he says. “not if it’s part of who you are.”

“……Yikes.”

Sans presses his teeth to your forehead, hands sliding off your shoulders to stroke reassuringly along your arms.

“hey,” he says gently. “don’t worry about it. ya’ don’t…ya’ don’t gotta be ready for it now, that’s fine.”

You know he means it.

It’s not just a platitude to comfort you, it really is completely and totally alright if this thing he’s asking for is too much, too soon. He wouldn’t be mad or frustrated at you in the slightest if you told him ‘no’ right now.

You’ve never felt more respected and cared for by anyone in your life than by Sans.

And that’s why your answer comes easily.

“I am ready. Let’s do it.”

He looks at you for a long moment, like he’s surprised, but you’re not sure why.

You can’t think of anybody you’d be more comfortable trusting your soul to, and from the sound of it, Sans feels the same way about you.

You don’t have the words for how touched that makes you feel.

“seriously? you…you’re sure…?”

“Yeah. You just gotta promise me one thing.”

Sans’ expression is sober, nearly grave. “of course. whatever you need.”

“I need you to swear,” you say sternly, “upon pain of death…that you will absolutely never, under any circumstance……tell Papyrus about anythingembarrassing you see, I trust you to forget about it eventually, but he’ll remember forever and I just, I don’t think he’ll let me live some of that stuff down. Please, Sans, you have to promise me.”

“………”

A quiet snicker graduates into a full-blown laugh, with just the barest edge of a wheeze to it, and you grin proudly as Sans leans on you a little, pressing his forehead to yours.

“ah, shit, that’s…that’s a real tall order, i dunno… i guess i can try…”

You sigh dramatically. “What’s it gonna take? Lunch for a month? A year? The rest of our lives?”

“i’d settle for a kiss.”

“Oh. Datemate discount?”

“special offer, just for you.”

You don’t see how you can say no to a deal like that.

You reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck and angling your face just enough to plant your lips on his teeth. He presses back, turning it into a nuzzle and…

Well.

You get distracted for a little while.

Hardly anybody’s fault.

When you eventually separate, Sans tells you the basic gist of what’s going to happen: your souls come out, they touch and, by the mysterious explanation-defying powers of magic, the sharing will just sort of…happen.

You wonder briefly if he’s drawing on some old memory of a monster sex-ed class—Your Soul And You—but your amused thoughts don’t last long.

Your mind goes blank, actually, when he casually touches his fingers to his sternum and his very soul follows them, emerging from his chest.

“so…this is my soul,” he says, grimacing at it a little. “the ‘culmination of my being.’ it’s, uh…it’s kinda…”

“It’s beautiful, Sans,” you breathe.

It is.

You’ve never seen anything prettier than the upside down heart-shape in front of you, glowing like freshly fallen snow beneath a bright full moon. You want to reach out to it, to trace the intricate spider web of gray cracks splintering through it with your fingers, to press your lips to it and nuzzle it as gently and carefully as you do to Sans’ skull…

But by the stunned and shy expression he’s giving you just from telling him it was beautiful, you think that might be a little much.

“How do…how do I do mine?” you ask. “I don’t…”

Sans eagerly takes to the change in topic. “i got it,” he says, “don’t worry, i’ll just…”

His hand touches your chest, feather-light, and you still when you feel a tug deep inside, a place in you that nothing’s ever touched before.

With something you can only describe as a ‘pop,’ another glowing heart appears but this one…

This one is yours…this one is you.

Right side up and a hundred times more vibrant than the soft white of Sans’ soul, you experience a profound sense of existentialism just looking at this little heart floating before you.

You have an incredibly strong feeling, knowing without knowing that this thing is unique beyond the telling of it, the only soul in the world that’s exactly like this one.

It’s…a lot prettier than you thought it would be, and that’s got to be those pesky self-esteem issues pulling the wool over your eyes because if this colorful, shining thing really is you, then…

Then you really must be special

“that’s what a beautiful soul looks like,” Sans says decisively.

His eye-sockets are fixed on it, his red pupil in your favorite shape and his ever-present grin going soft, bathed in the light between you.

The sight of him in this moment strikes you with a heady bolt of affection and your soul shivers with it—literally shivers, and your cheeks heat at such a blatant, visible response.

You think you’re starting to understand what Sans was getting at when he said ‘intimate’: you’ve never been this exposed.

“not too late to change your mind.”

You look up. Sans’ look is knowing, understanding—he can read your nervousness with ease.

But that’s all it is, just nervousness.

You decide to take a page out of Papyrus’ book: you were going to do this and it was going to be fine.

“I’m okay,” you tell Sans. “I’m ready.”

And you are.

You can’t quite look away as your souls close the gap between them, your heart involuntarily speeding up as they get closer and closer and finally touch and then…!

Your vision goes white.

-

You don’t know where dad is.

Working, you guess, he’s always working, and you’re old enough by now to realize that you’re probably still too young to be left alone this often, but it’s not like you’re a babybones, either.

Not like Papyrus is.

Your little brother is so small. He can’t really talk so great yet, but he tries a lot, making noises that are almost words when you give him his rattle to shake or tease him with his Fluffy Bunny toy.

His favorite sorta-word lately is ‘nyeh’ and he says it all the time.

You think it’s the funniest thing. You hope he never stops saying it.

Man…your bro is so cool.

-

You’re exhausted, well and truly worked down to the bone.

(heh.)

You can’t really remember why you thought fast-tracking was a good idea. You think it was probably more dad’s idea than yours…or you would if you could think after your skull had been pummeled by exam after exam after exam.

Theoretical physics, advanced calculus, geology, mechanical engineering… You were good at it, at least, a prodigy if you believed what dad said, a ‘true successor to his genius’ but dad was always kind of a drama queen.

Pap inherited that, but to dad’s endless despair and your endless amusement, he’s also the artsy black sheep of your family.

He’s going through a goth phase right now and the spiked bracelets and the inky paint he’s slathering beneath his eye-sockets while insisting it’s ‘NOT A PHASE, YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND MY EMOTIONAL AND TORTURED SOUL’ is the most hilarious thing in the world to you.

You encourage him and his teenage rebellion whenever possible—like a good bro should, of course—and try not to laugh too obviously when dad holds his skull in his hands and prays for Papyrus to discover an interest in a science, any science, even a soft science, stars, please.

The only thing you pray for is to pass your finals. You don’t want to have to do any of this crap again, and once you’ve got your degrees maybe dad’ll finally shut up about how much help he needs at the Capital with his work.

Sometimes you think the CORE is more his baby than you or Pap ever were…

But you’re tired enough lately that you don’t think it that often.

-

You’re not there when it happens.

That’s the part that kills you the most, wondering if you could’ve done something if you’d been there, made a difference somehow…

But you weren’t, you didn’t, and in one little warble of time and space, your dad ceases to exist.

Worse than that, so does any record of him, every mention of his name, every photograph, every memory.

Pap seems to have some vague recollection, at least remembers that you’d had a dad at one point, but everyone else you talk to goes blank when you say his name out loud, like they won’t or maybe can’t even process the words you’d said.

There was no Royal Scientist, hadn’t been for years, they all agreed. The king really ought to hire somebody to do it.

It could’ve been you.

It could’ve been you easily, you had all the know-how and the (admittedly limited) experience to take on dad’s job in his…memory, or honor, or whatever the hell, but you can’t think of a single thing you’d hate more than that.

You were never passionate about The Work, but now…it’s irrevocably soured for you.

You throw all your notes and schematics into dad’s home-lab, with the stupid time-machine he never got to work and lock it all up, tossing the key somewhere in a drawer to be forgotten. You let Pap have your textbooks and without somebody breathing down his vertebrae about it, he’s not nearly as contrary about perusing them now and then.

And that’s it: the inglorious end of your scientific career.

The king ends up hiring one of the interns you used to work with to be the new Royal Scientist, some girl named Alphys. You remember her being a little shy, a little awkward, but undeniably sharp and creative.

You think she’ll do fine.

You ask Pap how he’d feel about moving someplace else, and after a twenty minute rant on how much he loathes Hotland’s vents and conveyor belts, you just up and shortcut the whole house to Snowdin.

You like the name and the flat look your brother gives you when you tell him it’s the polar opposite of Hotland makes it worth the twelve hours you have to go pass out after such a huge expenditure of magic.

You have no idea what you’re supposed to do with your life now.

You guess you’ll figure it out sooner or later, and you hope the fresh start will make it easier.

-

Some things you can’t get away from.

You may be done working with the real thing, but science-fiction is fun; just the right balance of real concepts and hand-wave-y ‘shh, don’t worry about it’ that you can take pleasure in it.

It seems to be a popular genre with humans and enough of their junk falls down that you have plenty of books and movies to choose from.

Some of it’s good, some of it’s so bad it’s good, and some of it’s so bad that you immediately pass it off to your brother telling him it’s the best thing you’ve ever seen and wait for him kick down your door in the middle of the night yelling at you about the hours he’s never going to get back, ‘STOP GIVING ME GARBAGE, SANS, I’M SERIOUS!’

Pap should really know by now that just makes you want to find something even worse to waste his time on.

You’re digging around the dump for just that sort of garbage when you find the telescope.

You know why nobody’d bothered to take it yet in spite of it being in near-perfect condition—no stars to see down here in your collective prison—but it makes you think of the Wishing Room and you set it up over there on a whim to get a look at your pseudo-stars embedded in the ceiling.

The pranking potential is enormous, and you do get several hapless passersby, but you also take a look yourself from time to time.

Through the telescope, you can see an incredible amount of detail in the crystalline ‘stars’ everyone wishes on—facets and cleavages and around them, striations in the stone of the ceiling itself.

And thus begins your slow descent into casual geology.

At first, it’s just the telescope, but eventually you catch yourself prying a crystal out of the wall or pocketing a neat-looking rock you found on the ground. It turns into a full-blown collection before long and you want to hate it more on principle of not being able to let go of the past but…

Picking up rocks here and there, it…it doesn’t hurt the way calculating the internal energy of a system does, the way even thinking about string theory sends a bitter pang through your soul.

Just collecting these minerals and crystals and whatever else you can find, it’s so informal and so far removed from anything you’d done in a lab, working on the CORE that you can still actually enjoy it.

So, you let it be your hobby.

It’s harmless enough.

-

You’re surprised it takes you as long as it does to stumble onto comedy.

You’ve always been a joker, always loved puns and cheesy one-liners that inevitably won you a chuckle or a groan from everybody around you, but you never really had the right audience for it. Dad always just rolled his eyes and wouldn’t acknowledge you, and Pap…

Well, Pap supported you. He just thought you took the easy road too often, should put more work behind your humor.

That, you didn’t get—a joke’s a joke, does it matter how hard you worked on it if it makes somebody laugh?

Getting up on stage the first time is at least eighty percent unintentional.

It’s some dumb open mic night at some lousy bar in the Capital and after three straight rounds of terrible karaoke, the people you’re hanging with are drunk and bored enough that they start pushing at your shoulders, telling you to go on up and tell that story, the really funny one about the time you found that rubber chicken, anything’s better than hearing Aaron singing another love song while flexing his abs at everybody.

You’re also just drunk and bored enough to give in to the peer pressure and up you go for your very first show, with no preparation and just your lifelong arsenal of bad jokes at your disposal.

You knock ‘em dead, full-on wheezing, banging on the table, crying laughter and the thrill it makes you feel is indescribable.

You’re already planning out your next set when you get a call from Mettaton himself, saying he wants you to perform exclusively at his resort every other week.

It’s an offer you could easily refuse, but you don’t.

The feeling of being up there on the stage, seeing a whole crowd of people so happy, laughing at a joke you told…

It’s probably the first time you’ve ever been really, truly passionate about something for yourself.

Every time you do a show, it’s the happiest you think you’ve ever been: this is your calling.

-

Something else is calling you, too.

It yanks you right out of a midday nap and there’s a crushing, overwhelming pressure on your soul that makes you get up.

You are Needed, you have no choice.

It’s terrifying that first time, finding your feet and your magic responding to shortcut you somewhere you weren’t even consciously aware of. You feel like you’re possessed, unable to shake the urge to Go, because you Must, and you have no control over it.

It’s only a slight relief when you find yourself in the castle, in a room you’ve at least seen before.

The king himself, standing in front of you, is a little less of a relief.

He looks surprised to see you and you want to ask him what’s going on, what the hell is happening to you, because it seems like he knows something but your fear and confusion holds your metaphorical tongue too long.

And Asgore speaks.

“I come seeking Judgment.”

Your magic flares in your chest, burning brighter than it ever has before and suddenly…suddenly you can See.

His LOVE, his EXP, the truth of his soul is laid out before you like an open book, things meant to be secret outside of an encounter, yet…

There they are.

A strange sense of calm washes over you, a feeling of duty. You hear the chime of a bell, the singing of birds, the wafting scent of flowers…

You open your mouth and a voice only half-yours passes your first Judgment.

Asgore is unsurprised.

He’s a patient audience as you list off his sins and the weight of them, offering no argument or emotion in response. When you finish and the strange power that had consumed you vanishes, he’s at your side, quelling the rattling of your bones with a paternal hand to your shoulder.

He invites you in for tea, of all things.

You take him up on it. You need answers.

Asgore doesn’t have as many as you’d like.

It happens once in a generation, some monster with the requisite skills—perceptive, impartial, patient—is chosen to become The Judge. Anyone trying to pass through the judgment hall, to reach the throne room and the king, must first have their sins seen, weighed, judged.

And you’re the unlucky bastard who got picked to do it this time around.

It’s too much responsibility, you don’t want it, but not even Asgore himself can take this from you. He tries to comfort you, saying you’ll hardly ever be needed, but even ‘hardly ever’ is still more than you wanted.

You’re called to Judge four more times after that.

They’re all easy, good people who get what amounts to a pep-talk before their audience with Asgore, a ‘good job’ for going through life without hurting anyone. It gets you used to your unwanted career, at least, even if you think it’s pretty unnecessary to have.

Monsters are made of love and compassion: they’re good people, and good people aren’t violent, they don’t kill.

There’s no point being a Judge among monsters and this ‘chosen’ schtick feels pretty damn arbitrary to you.

(You try not to think about the possibility of a human falling down. The odds of it happening in your lifetime are…)

(You try not to think about it.)

-

You’ve been having the worst sense of déjà vu lately.

You don’t know what it is, or why it’s happening, but it feels like more and more often that you’re having the sensation of having heard something before, said something before, lived through something before.

You ask a couple people about it and a lot of them agree with you, passing it off as such a weird and funny coincidence…but the longer the feeling sticks with you, the less you’re believing in coincidence.

You don’t know why you go back to dad’s lab and take a look at the unfinished machine inside. Maybe you’re following a hunch—it’s a time machine, after all, even if he never got it working. Maybe…maybe it’s broken, malfunctioning, causing some sort of…something around here.

It’s not the machine.

But it’s not just déjà vu, either.

You use the equipment, calling on knowledge you hadn’t thought about in years, and the data in the reports you pull is…

Just a little bit harrowing.

There’s some sort of anomaly in the data, literally screwing around with the space-time continuum itself. Entire timelines starting, stopping, diverging, looping back, it’s insane when you realize how long this must’ve been going on and even worse when you think about how much longer it could go on, unchecked.

The fact that some of the lines are literal dead-ends just makes it worse. What the hell has the power to play with time like this?

You don’t know…but you think maybe a couple times, you must’ve found out.

Your memories are weird lately, you try to take notes and keep them in the lab, it seems mostly unaffected by time-shenanigans, but whatever’s doing this really doesn’t want you knowing about it.

It’s around then you start having nightmares.

Bad ones.

Fighting for your life, watching people die, the overwhelming feeling of needing to do something, anything to stop this and being completely, utterly useless.

They’re only nightmares, you try to tell yourself that…but you can’t be sure. Who knows what form an erased memory from a doomed timeline might take in a new loop and some of the things you see in your dreams are just way too real for your liking.

When Papyrus tells you in passing about a flower he’s made friends with, you feel a lightning bolt of NO strike clean through your soul. You want to investigate, or tell Pap to stay away from that thing, and you don’t know why, but…

There’s an undercurrent of dread beneath those thoughts, a feeling of helpless despair.

You think you must’ve tried those things already. You wonder how badly they must’ve ended, and how many times it had to have happened for you to feel such an ingrained Pavlovian fear-response.

It’s been a long time since you’ve felt this tired.

You’re not proud of it, but…

You give up.

The déjà vu doesn’t stop, but it doesn’t get worse, either.

You guess maybe that’s the anomaly’s way of rewarding your compliance.

If you weren’t so exhausted—mentally, emotionally, physically—you think you might be a little indignant about it.

-

One highlight these days is your door-pal.

Sentry-duty is boring and even you can only take so many outdoor, mid-morning depression naps, so finding a fellow knock-knock-joke-enthusiast so close by is a nice little surprise.

She’s a terrific audience and pretty damn funny herself. You thought you’d already heard every pun in existence, but you learn a couple new ones from her and use them whenever possible.

You don’t know what she’s got in her past that keeps her locked up inside the old ruins, but in spite of your other-other-other job, you’re not about to judge. After all, you’re the one who decided to move clear across the Underground when your dad died…ceased existing, whatever.

Everybody’s running from something.

When she asks you to look out for any humans that come through the door, though…

Stars, you want to say no.

You almost do, but…she sounds so sad when she asks. You don’t know her name or what she looks like, but you’ve always thought terrible jokes were a great basis for a friendship and you’ve been swapping them with her for months, now.

She’s your friend and this is quite literally the only thing she’s ever asked of you.

You promise.

There’s only one human left to go, anyway. It won’t be hard to watch them until they get to the castle, and once they go through the judgment hall, anything that happens after that is out of your hands.

How bad can one little human possibly be?

-

Famous last words, you guess.

Number Seven is worse than anything you could’ve imagined.

They’re covered in dust when they walk out of the ruins, and when your door-pal stops answering your knocks, it’s not hard to guess what must’ve happened to her.

The déjà vu comes back and so do the nightmares, more terrible and heart-wrenching than they’ve ever been before. It occurs to you that you might’ve found the anomaly, but you’re too damn��scared to do anything about it.

You keep your promise, though: you watch the kid every step of the way, silently tailing their journey.

There’s no rhyme or reason to their little dusting spree, at least none that you can see. They slaughter an Ice Cap without a second thought, but breeze by most of the Canine Unit with just a pet and a cheery little laugh that sends shivers up your spine.

When your brother is one of the monsters to be spared, you actually collapse into a snow poff for a moment from the relief. You know the timeline is bouncing around again the same way you know how much worse that encounter could’ve gone.

(Papyrus’ decapitated head in the snow, still encouraging the human to do better with his last words as his skull breaks apart into dust…)

Your bro blusters a little bit when you hug him after, probably too tightly, but he doesn’t try to shoo you off, either.

He’d never admit it, but you can feel him rattling just as hard as you are. You know he was scared facing down that human and as they traipse through the Underground, swinging that knife of theirs, you know it was completely justified.

They slip right under Undyne’s radar and dismantle Mettaton on live TV. Pap cries a little and as much as you try to be aloof, it really is one hell of a spirit-breaker having to watch the only celebrity you have down here just up and die in front of you.

It isn’t long before you feel the calling and soon you’re standing there, face-to-face with the very person shattering the hopes and dreams of all monsterkind.

But you’re not a monster in this room.

Here, you’re a Judge, and it’s time for their sentencing.

Their sins are heavy and almost too many to count. They’ve killed dozens, without remorse…but they’ve also spared others. Their soul is strange, burning with more Determination than you’ve ever seen, but to what purpose, you can’t tell.

In the end, it’s not your place to figure it out.

You Judge them and let them through, hoping Asgore is strong enough to see justice done.

…But your hope is running pretty thin, lately.

Soon, your king is dust, the six human souls you’d had are gone, and the Underground is once more plunged into despair.

Of all the timelines to stick…

-

Undyne takes over.

It’s…not great.

She’s trying, though, and she gives Pap a cute little title which makes him happy, so it could be worse.

But not by much.

It feels like everything’s falling apart these days. Even food’s getting hard to come by and you’re trying really hard not to think about what’s gonna happen when it runs out.

Sustainable solutions would normally be something in the Royal Scientist’s wheelhouse but Alphys…

Alphys just sort of disappeared one day.

After Asgore, after Mettaton…you think you know where she went.

And there’s no coming back from that.

It certainly doesn’t help the food situation, or Undyne’s combative mood and lately, you swear you can hear her and Pap shouting at each other in the Capital all the way from Snowdin.

Your bro is just too cool to accept the idea of warring with an entire species for the crimes of just a few—the Judge in you agrees with him, but the tired slob of a skeleton in you just wants whatever will make all the yelling stop.

-

You’re there when it happens.

That’s the part that kills you the most, knowing how totally, hilariously useless you are even when you’re actually around to protect your family.

You’re there to see Undyne slam her fist into your brother’s face with a wild look in her eye, hearing bone crack beneath her knuckles as she does it again and again and again.

You don’t think about your HP, or the consequences of defying the queen, or anything at all.

You just shortcut yourself right in between her and Papyrus and…

You don’t remember anything after that.

-

You wake up with a brutal headache and a weird foggy feeling in your skull that makes it hard to think.

It takes you an embarrassingly long time to realize you’re at home, in Pap’s bed, and by then Pap is walking in with a meager bowl of soup.

He looks surprised to see you awake, but the first thing he says to you is, “Don’t Be Mad,” and well, that plus the painful-looking state of his teeth doesn’t really make you feel better.

He pussyfoots around something for awhile, clearly trying keep you calm before dropping a bombshell and normally you’d see right through it, but now…it’s working.

Your head hurts and you can’t think straight and he’s saying you got hit, but that can’t be right. You’d be dust if you got hit, especially by Undyne, how the hell are you alive?

Papyrus sets a syringe on the table beside his bed, looking starkly out of place next to all his action figures.

You have to stare at it for a long, long moment before you can even place what it is.

DT—raw and red, pure Determination, extracted from a human soul.

“I Was Careful,” Papyrus promises you. “I Know Too Much Is… I Read The Notes, In The Lab, I Barely Used Any, You Shouldn’t…You Should Be Alright! I…I Think…”

He keeps talking, but you’re not really listening.

Stars above, DT… That was only ever…in the labs, the royal ones, how the hell had Pap even…

Well…no, Pap was…he’d always had a way of getting places he had to be, like…like your shortcuts, except…

He’d tried to explain it to you once, you think, how he…god, there was a word he’d used…

……

…What the hell was it?

Why can’t you remember that?!

You raise a hand to your skull, trying to rub at the place this stupidly distracting headache seems to be coming from.

Nausea hits you dead in your non-existent gut when you feel nothing beneath your fingers but an empty cavity.

On instinct, you shortcut to the bathroom. Your aim is off, you bang your ribs unpleasantly on the edge of the sink below the mirror, but you don’t think about it.

You’re surprised you can think of anything with the jagged, void-black cavern that’s apparently half your skull now. One of your eye-lights is gone and you can’t make it come back, and the other…

Stars, the other is the brightest, most terrifying shade of crimson you’ve ever seen—monster-white forever stained DT-red.

You’re hit with several urges at once and none of them seem productive.

Crying, puking, laughing until you do both, but you don’t actually do any of those things.

You hear Papyrus calling for you, no doubt concerned by your disappearance, and you really should go back to him but…

This is too much.

You’re tired.

You go straight to bed instead.

Maybe…maybe when you wake up the fog will be gone and you’ll be able to…process this, the right way.

-

The fog never really leaves you.

You’re in and out for awhile and your head…mostly stops hurting, but using it is a lot harder than it ever used to be.

It takes you forever to notice that Pap’s been talking to you in proper case all of a sudden.

At first you think it’s because of his teeth, that his usual high volume is just too much for the cracked and crooked bones of his jaw, but even when they’ve healed a bit he’s still just…quieter than he used to be, more muted than the bombastic baby brother you’re used to and it’s…

You don’t like it.

You never get around to saying anything about it, though, because you’re a little busy dealing with your own shit.

It seems like you’re passing out all the time now.

You love napping, you’d never even attempt to imply otherwise, but usually you’re doing it on purpose. Now, it just sort of…happens, whether you mean it to or not.

Your memory is pretty much garbage, too.

You’re stuck in the house for a few days while you’re healing and make the mistake of trying to read to pass the time. It takes you all day to get through one chapter, you keep having to backtrack and remind yourself of something you just read, but it didn’t…stick right, or something.

It’s worse when you try looking back at some of your old lab notes. Wingdings is as good as gibberish to your crappy skull now, apparently, and even in standard your own shorthand is too convoluted to follow for more than a couple of lines.

Losing entire conversations is a special kind of humiliating.

You quickly lose count of the times you ask Pap a question and by the look on his face you can tell it’s something you already asked him before at least once; who knows how many times more than that.

He’s patient with you. Your brother would never make you feel stupid on purpose, but you feel it anyway.

You’re frustrated with yourself beyond words and you know, deep down, that this is just the way your head works now—badly—and you’ve gotta get used to being half as quick as you were before.

You pick up a nasty habit of tugging at your empty eye-socket when you’re trying to remember something.

Pap hates it and you really probably shouldn’t be doing it, but the pain of it is…grounding, in a way. It helps you focus a little and stars, if there’s anything you need these days, it’s focus.

(The pain in your eye-socket is a pretty good distraction from your hunger pangs, too. Things are starting to get…)

(………)

(It’s not good.)

-

A human falls.

You take them to Undyne.

………

At least you’re not as hungry anymore.

-

It happens again.

You can’t afford these kinds of mistakes, none of you can.

Monsters are already…

You can’t be wasting souls like this.

Undyne has to…she’s really gotta…

………

-

You can’t…afford not to care anymore.

You had so many chances to fix this before it happened, to make it…be less bad now.

You let them all pass by.

If Undyne can’t do this…

…Stars, forgive you.

-

The first time you take a life is the last time you use your Judgment.

You hope that…knowing this human’s sins before you……will make it…easier.

It doesn’t, not really.

But at least it’s quick.

You feel sick after, hiding the soul away and bringing the…the meat to Papyrus.

Your only saving grace is that there’s nothing for you to throw up, and by the time there’s something to eat going around, you’ve managed to go numb.

It doesn’t last.

-

You carry on, you and Pap—the Queen’s Butchers.

You hear that word and want to die a little every time, but that’s the last thing you can do now. You started this, you’re taking this horrible, nightmarish responsibility and you…you have to see it through.

You can’t let this be somebody else’s problem.

(Papyrus’ station is the next nearest to the ruins. You can’t let this be Papyrus’ problem, he’s already too involved and that’s hard enough for you to live with.)

You try to Judge the other humans—it didn’t help before, but maybe…

You can’t, though.

It doesn’t work, not anymore.

Trying to call on whatever magic used to let you see LOVE and EXP at a glance is like trying to catch water in your fist, slipping through your fingers no matter how hard you grip.

It takes you awhile to understand, but you get it eventually.

Judges are supposed to be impartial and fair.

But you have blood on your hands, now.

You’re not The Judge, not anymore, just the executioner.

You hate the ugly, scary face you see in the mirror.

You understand now more than ever why Alphys did what she did. You think she probably had the right idea and you wish you could join her.

You can’t.

You have to live with this.

Just a little bit longer.

Maybe you’ll get lucky and just dust on your own.

…You wish.

-

You start to space out a lot.

You don’t know if it’s your head-wound or just your soul itself recoiling from the idea of inhabiting a body that does the horrible, unforgivable things you’re doing with it.

You like it, though.

It’s inconvenient sometimes, feeling so separate from yourself that you can’t…process…anything going on around you except simple commands and ‘yes’ or ‘no’ questions, but mostly, it’s a relief.

It’s a brief period of time where you can just…barely exist.

You don’t really know where it is you go, mentally, when you dissociate like that, but it’s so close to what you really want and with that off the table…

Hell, you’ll take what you can get.

-

It’s an accident the first time you do it.

You’re just holding onto a hunk of pyrite in your pocket when you space out, and when you come back from…wherever, you feel a stinging pain in your closed fist.

There’s a scrape along your metacarpals where you’d been clutching the rock just a little too tightly, some tiny lines dug right into the surface of the bone.

There’s no chance of finding anything to heal it with down here, not in this barren hellscape that the Underground’s become, so you just sort of…leave it.

It hurts a little, but no worse than every other painful thing you have to do these days.

You don’t think about it for awhile, but then…

The next human to fall is a little girl. She can’t be older than ten and you come across her shivering through the outskirts of Snowdin, calling out to no one.

She lost her mom, she hurt her ankle, the vines, she couldn’t…please, wasn’t there anybody down here?

There’s tears streaking down your skull when you break her neck—quick, but horrible, and that night you leave more scrapes along your hand because you hate yourself more than anything and the pain helps you remember that.

It turns into a habit because of how easy it is. You have a whole collection of rough, sharp, and jagged things to choose from and all you have to do is keep one in your pocket so you have it when you need it.

It’s less noticeable than curling your fingers into your eye-socket, and Pap hates that.

At least your hands, you can hide.

They’re always in your pockets anyway, your bro won’t question it or look at you all sad and disappointed…

…Maybe if you put enough gouges in the bone, you’ll even scrape off the bloodstains that haunt you when you close your eye-sockets.

Hasn’t worked so far but you don’t see the harm in trying.

-

You make it out.

There’s no war.

Pap gets his teeth fixed, a therapist for his anxiety issues, a job to be productive at, and he even starts taking classes. He wants to be a nurse and you can’t guess if dad would be more proud or horrified by that.

You…

You don’t really…do anything.

You never thought this far ahead. You don’t know what to do, now that you’re here.

You think you always just sort of expected…some kind of justice, after everything you’d done, but…

Undyne was the one in jail, not you. You’re free and you’re…

Floundering.

You still feel like justice is coming for you, it has to be, you were a Judge, you know, but the other shoe just isn’t dropping and it’s driving you crazy.

Well…crazier.

-

At least the sky is beautiful.

You probably don’t deserve to look at it, but you do anyway.

You never thought you’d see this, not in a million years.

-

Pap waits a lot longer than you thought he would before he starts pushing you to get out of the house.

You do, mostly to humor him, because it’s not like you’d be any good at a day-job. Your short-term memory is shit and you’re not reliable to show up every day because you never really know when you’re going to have an episode or miss an alarm or just be too exhausted and broken to drag your coccyx out of bed in the morning.

You do a lot of aimless wandering around the city.

Humans have been kind about monsters, for sure, but you know damn well how scary you look. You try not to let it hurt your feelings too much when you see people turning around when they see you coming, averting their eyes from you with fear on their faces.

(It does hurt your feelings. It hurts your feelings a lot. You never wanted to scare people and now it seems like it’s all you do.)

(The likely thought of never getting a laugh again sends a splinter through your soul, just one of the many ugly cracks littering it now.)

When you see the poster for the local animal shelter, asking for volunteers, you figure you don’t have much to lose there.

What are they gonna do, fire you? From working for free?

You meet with the lady who runs the place. You try to be upfront, let her know you’ve got some…issues, but you want to work; you want to help,anything to get out of the house and stay occupied because Pap is right, staying in all day and obsessing over your sins is killing you, you really dowant to be busy, maybe for the first time in your life.

You luck out: the manager’s in a tight spot, her best worker is on vacation and she really does need an extra pair of hands around to help pick up the slack.

You get the ‘job’ and it’s…good.

Really good.

There’s nothing too hard or complicated for you to learn and the humans are a little edgy around you like they always are, but the animals…

They’re soft and small and they’re here because they need help, and even a big scary skeleton is fine by them as long as you can pass them a bowl of kibble or clean out a litterbox from time to time.

They don’t know what you’ve done and if they did, they wouldn’t care.

You want to have that for a little while, at least until your karma comes back to bite you.

Here feels like as good a place as any to wait for whatever justice is coming for a sinner like you.

-

You don’t expect the human.

Manager-lady introduces you, this is that ‘best worker’ she brought you in to cover for.

They’re a lot nicer than most about looking a little spooked when they see you for the first time. They cover it pretty quick to keep from hurting your feelings and are perfectly polite afterwards.

The fact that they’re aware you have feelings to be hurt puts them a step above most of the other humans you’ve met up here.

Maybe that’s why you remember their face so quickly.

The name takes longer to stick, but you recognize them when you see them the next day and actually remember who they are, and that’s a pretty big deal for you.

They talk to you a lot and you don’t really get it, but it’s…nice.

You try to help them out with easy stuff, high shelves and heavy bags to let them know you appreciate the kindness.

Back in the glory days of your unbroken skull and your unbloodied hands, you’d tell them a joke and offer to take them to Grillby’s sometime for being a pal, but Grillby’s is gone and you have no business trying to make friends with a human after how many you’d killed.

You hope the little bit you can do is enough.

Like when a scruffy dog in bad shape comes in one day and slips his leash and you see them about to just go right up to it, like that was a totally safe thing for a squishy little human to do.

You do it for them.

You get bit, but the only real casualty is your hoodie pocket and you can sew that up later, no harm, no foul.

The little guy’s still on edge and you’ve seen the human in the dog room, chatting up the pups and handling them all with care and affection.

If anybody can help your new buddy here chill out, you think it’s probably them.

They do, and when the vet comes to take him away, the human does the weirdest thing.

They ask you if you’re okay. Like it matters, like it’s important, like they care…

And they’re not even afraid to touch you while they ask.

You don’t get it.

You really don’t get it.

……But it’s nice.

-

They actually name the dog Buddy.

It’s hilarious and so are they the next time you have a run-in with them. You shortcut into the laundry room trying to find the apatite that fell out of your pocket and end up spooking them a little, but it doesn’t last.

They scowl at you and tell you that you oughta wear a bell and before you even realize you’re doing it, you’re shooting back with a pun, faster than you have in years.

They laugh.

It takes a second but they laugh, at a joke you told, and it’s a sound you thought you’d never hear again.

It’s beautiful. You want to make them laugh even more.

You get them giggling about the absurdity of your ketchup collection and your pocket-rock, and when you offhandedly mention your background in geology to explain the latter, they look impressed but don’t push very hard for details.

You don’t know why they ask you to lunch with them, but they call you ‘funny’ and offer to pay and well…

You don’t really know how to say no to that.

They order for you and their guess is so spot-on it’s crazy. The food is great too, greasy and delicious like you haven’t had since the last time you went to Grillby’s before it shut down and you couldn’t bear to go anymore, the man himself looking smaller and thinner by the day like he could just disappear in a strong breeze.

They ask about you and you tell them, the good stuff at least, plus some of the not-so-horrible stuff—cards on the table, and all that.

They get you talking about Pap for awhile, too, and maybe you gush a little, but it’s been too long since you’ve had anybody to talk to about how cool your brother is.

“It seems like it runs in the family,” they say to you, and…

Oh, stars, your skull gets hot and you laugh a little, not knowing what else to do.

You try to turn the subject around to them, but they seem a little shy, too, like they feel their story isn’t important or exciting enough to share.

You kinda doubt that. You get the feeling there’s a pretty cool person sitting across from you and they just don’t believe it yet.

You break the tension with a pun and they pun right back and when they get the courage to ask for your number, hoping to have lunch together some other time, you give it to them.

It could be nice to have a friend again, even if just for a little while.

-

They start texting you in the middle of the night with some gold-tier jokes and memes.

At first, you’re a little concerned they might not sleep well or something—one of the upsides of your severe cranial damage is that you don’t dream anymore, no dreams, no nightmares—but apparently their sleep schedule is just a little wonky.

You’re fine with it, it gives you something else to focus on in those weird midnight hours when you’re usually just trapped alone with your thoughts and regrets.

You send them pictures of your rock collection and get to see their interest in your hobby start to flourish. They send you geology-specific memes now and pictures of cool rocks they think you’ll like, and it’s so cute and thoughtful that you almost can’t even handle it.

They’re a good friend and when you see the look on their face when they talk about Buddy, how they can’t adopt him, how he just has to go to somebody else’s home to be somebody else’s dog…

It doesn’t feel right.

You want to do something for them.

You drop a hint to Pap and even though you’re pretty sure he knows what you’re trying to get him to do, he does it anyway.

Buddy’s your dog now, yours and Pap’s and the human’s, and they can come over and see him whenever they want to, problem solved.

Papyrus tells you later that ‘Your Human’ was really nice and even wanted to be his friend, too.

It makes you happy that they were kind to your brother.

And your cheekbones feel a little warm again at the phrase, ‘Your Human.’

You try not to think about it too hard.

-

Pap invites them over for dinner one night and they bring gifts.

Your bro gets the cutest little plant you’ve ever seen and you…

You get the funniest rock you’ve ever seen, engraved with an ironic pun that probably wasn’t the manufacturer’s intention but is all the more hilarious for it.

It’s perfect, you love it, they’re the most thoughtful human you’ve ever met and when they start ignoring you in favor of the dog, you’re…

Maybe a little jealous.

When they offer to pet you, too, as a joke, you actually take them up on it.

Their fingers are warm where they touch the whole side of your skull, blunted nails scritching along the bone.

It’s…a lot nicer than you thought it’d be.

You make a dumb joke to change the subject and try to squeeze in another nap on the couch when they go off to help Pap with dinner. You’ve faceplanted into spaghetti before and it’s really not something you want to do tonight, with them here to see you do it.

You manage to avoid it and dinner is a perfectly pleasant affair, and when the topic somehow turns around to vacations, they get your bro to actually agree to a trip somewhere and that kind of craftiness is impressive.

They grab your hand after dinner, trying to convince you that the size difference between you is ridiculous and stars above, color you convinced.

They’re so small and their little hands are so soft and cute in yours that you don’t even think to be bashful about the scratched-up state of your metacarpals.

They get all flustered and annoyed with the way you’re laughing at them, so you offer an apology hug and they take the bait.

They get even more cute and flustered when you put your chin on their head because you can and even though they’re a little mad (heh), the night ends with laughter and smiles.

You can’t quite shake the way they’d felt in your arms, though, how nice it’d been to have their warm body tucked right up against your sternum and their arms trying in vain to wrap around your ribs.

Yet another thing to not think about.

-

You harass them a little bit trying to figure out where they want to take you and Pap on vacation.

You know you’re being annoying, but it’s playful and friendly and honestly, more fun than you’ve had in longer than you care to think about.

They’re a little exasperated with you, but you can tell by the way they smile and roll their eyes at your efforts that they’re not really mad at you.

You’re…glad.

Lately, you feel…so much more yourself, cracking jokes and playing pranks and just generally teasing the hell out of your human. You’re comfortable around them, in a way that you haven’t been comfortable with…

…

Jeez, have you ever been this comfortable with somebody?

You don’t really know. You don’t think so…but you like it.

Pap seems pretty convinced they want to take you to the beach and your bro is a whiz at pattern-recognition, so if that’s the thing he’s put together from whatever itinerary they gave him, that’s probably what it is.

He picks up some matching shirts for you to wear on the trip, but late one night you go online and do a little shopping of your own.

You’ve been eyeing that heart-shaped rose quartz for your collection for awhile now, and if you just so happen to tack on a punderful shirt in your human’s size and click the one-day shipping…

Well, that’s just coincidence, ain’t it?

-

You take awhile dragging yourself out of bed the morning of.

At first, it’s just because you’re feeling a little slow, but when Pap starts laying on the horn, impatiently yelling threats at you, you decide to take a quick break on purpose.

Even from inside, you can hear that he’s yelling at you in caps, and it’s been so long since you heard him talking in the right case that you…maybe milk it a little.

You just miss the much easier confidence Papyrus used to have before the whole Underground went to hell and before his closest friend tried to rearrange his face with her fists.

It’s nice to know that that part of him is still there, even if you have to get him pissed off beyond all reason to actually hear it.

By the time you know you’re really toeing the line of tardiness levels at which Pap will be ready and willing to try kicking your ass, you kinda have to rush to get ready and almost forget to snag the dog, but you make it and it’s fine, no big deal.

You end up at the beach, just as predicted, and your human is a little disappointed that they hadn’t kept it as good of a secret as they’d thought, but they cheer right up when Pap passes them the shirt you bought.

You’re a little embarrassed by how earnestly they thank you for it, but they don’t press it and when you all go change into swimwear…

Wow.

Wow, they look nice in a bathing suit, real cute, and when you say something about it and make them embarrassed for a change, they only look cuter.

You hang back with them while they put on their sun lotion, just…looking at them.

You never pictured yourself being friends with a human, not after…

Everything.

But this human…you really think you’d like them to be the exception. They’re curious and respectful and just so…genuine.

You’re happy around them, comfortable, even when they seem to take way too much pleasure in making your skull glow and you think this is a friendship you’d really like to keep.

-

You’re…maybe a little too comfortable with them, though.

You pick them up once in the water, for a piggyback ride, and you don’t think anything of it at the time, but after you realize maybe that was crossing the line a little. You shouldn’t be doing that kind of thing, touching people, especially not without asking, and you really…feel the need to at least apologize for it.

They wave you off and apparently…you’ve been touching them a lot, way more than you realized and that’s…

When they tell you it’s fine because you’re not scary, because they trust you, it’s the worst kind of reality check you can imagine.

You’re a murderer. You’ve killed seven humans, just like this one, and they have no idea. They think you’re safe because they don’t know you, not really.

And there’s you, lulling them into a false sense of security for what? Because you like them? Because you feel like less of a monster, in the most awful sense of the word, when they smile at you and laugh at your jokes?

You’re the worst sort of liar and you can’t believe you were selfish enough to do this to somebody as nice as them.

Your fingers slip into your pocket on instinct, reaching for something that you…don’t find.

There’s no sharp edges to meet your hand, only smooth and polished stone and when you pull it out, you find the paperweight they gave you with the inspirational message etched into it.

‘NOTHING IS WRITTEN IN STONE’

It wasn’t what you wanted but your—…the human doesn’t know why, and what they say has you laughing and forgetting about your darker thoughts for awhile.

You appreciate it. Really, you do, but…

You have to talk to them.

You have to be honest, they deserve that much.

And then maybe, once you’ve said your piece, they’ll just…stop talking to you.

They’re a good person, probably too nice for their own good, you don’t think they’ll spread your secrets and if they do, well…

You’ve been ducking justice long enough.

Might as well face the music now.

-

You tell them.

Everything.

Every awful, sickening detail you can think of, you spill it for them and when you’re done…

They hug you.

Of all the ridiculous things to do.

They make excuses for you, they tell you they think you did the right thing, and the more they talk, the more the things they’re saying almost sound…

Believable.

It’s the Kindness in them. It has to be. No other kind of soul could make it seem like the things you’d done could’ve ever been okay, acceptable, ‘what you had to do to survive.’

If only you were still a Judge, you could see it for yourself and know the platitudes for what they are.

You’re so desperate that you actually try, calling on that half-forgotten power to try and prove what you know—that their soft green soul is just taking pity on you, telling you the words you want to hear more than anything in the world.

It’s like wading through concrete, like straining against a giant rubber band and you can’t hold it, it’s not your gift to use anymore, but for just one second…

For one tiny little moment, you See.

And the glimpse of color you See isn’t green at all.

It’s yellow—blazing bright and strong with Justice.

Stars, you’d known…you’d known for so long that this was coming, no one escaped their justice, not forever, not even a fallen Judge…

But you never thought for a single second that when it finally came, it would forgive you.

You cry.

You can’t help it, and when your human holds you, you hold them back.

They tell you they know you and everything they say…it sounds like you, the you that you were before everything went wrong. They kiss you on the cheek and make a goofy joke and you…

Stars, this human is important to you.

You can’t believe you’re lucky enough to get to keep them.

-

You can’t believe you fell asleep on top of them, also. That’s another thing.

You tuck them in a little before you leave and then just sort of…sit around the house all day, processing.

They text to check on you and you really don’t know how you missed your guess on their soul trait.

They’re so…kind…

But maybe they’re kind because they feel that’s the right thing to do. It’s fair to treat people nicely, to do whatever they can for whoever needs it.

You remember, eventually, what they said about Buddy and why they couldn’t adopt him themselves: it wouldn’t be fair to him.

They’ve said and done a lot of things like that, you guess, now that you’re thinking about it, and…

Maybe they’re not…entirely wrong. About you.

You end up thinking about that for a long time.

Whatever they see when they look at you…it’s not unforgivable. They think you can do better.

And when you’re with them…you feel like it could even be true.

Eventually, you settle on a promise, one you make to yourself.

You want to try.

The way they so gently said, “I really care about you,” before kissing you on the cheek is the most motivating thing you’ve felt in a long time.

And if you think about the kiss itself a little longer than is strictly ‘friendly,’ well, that’s something you’re perfectly happy to keep to yourself.

You don’t want to let yourself get too greedy.

-

You start a journal. You clean your room. You try meditating.

That last one makes just makes you fall asleep but the other two things are good.

You need to figure out a new shorthand, and you have to watch yourself so you don’t slip back into Wingdings that you can’t decipher later, but writing stuff down is…a lot more therapeutic than you thought it would be.

It’s like…a way to organize your jumbled thoughts, get things out and put them together in a way that makes sense.

It’s probably nothing at all like talking it out with some trained professional, but since that’s not an option, you think this way is working out pretty well. It’s not all just…festering in your soul like some acidic secret, you’re dealing with it and it feels good.

So does a mattress with clean sheets on it, and a lamp that actually works, and a room that smells like air freshener instead of dirty laundry.

You consider apologizing to Pap for all the times you made fun of him for being a neat-freak but…

Nah.

The hardest thing to do is your rock collection.

You still have some…bad days…and when those happen…

………

You’re lazy, though, and you know it.

You probably won’t…hurt yourself as much if it’s not so easy.

You pack up about half of your collection, anything rough or jagged or sharp dumped into a shoebox and replaced with tumbled, polished counterparts that couldn’t make a dent in bone, no matter how tightly you squeezed them.

You leave your human’s rock in your pocket. It’s already stopped you from punishing yourself once, so maybe…

It can be your good luck charm.

You try to keep it with you all the time, careful not to lose it through your weakened pocket.

It helps you. A lot.

-

You’re floored when they start confessing to you, saying things you’d been thinking, but hadn’t dared to give a voice to.

“I like you.”

“You make me laugh.”

“I feel comfortable with you.”

And when they say they don’t know what you might see in them, you’re indignant.

You tell them what you see, what you like about them the most, and it’s only…slightly awkward trying to figure out how kissing works without lips.

You don’t think there’s an actual skeleton equivalent of the gesture. You haven’t known very many skeletons, you imagine there’s probably a whole rich tapestry of cultural context you’d grown up missing, but really…

You couldn’t care less.

Your human is in your lap and you’re laughing and nuzzling each other and it’s…

Stars, it’s the happiest you’ve been in a long time.

Of course you’re going to date them.

-

It takes you a little bit to get into the right sort of groove for dating.

You let Pap and his dating manual psych you out a little too much at first, but your human winds you back down and you knew they were the right person to do this with: after that first, mostly successful attempt, your dates just go better and better.

You’re spending time with them, not trying too hard, but that’s exactly what they seem to want from you and it’s perfect.

Even when an unexpected run-in with Burr crashes the tail-end of a date, hitting you with two bombshells at once—Grillby’s alive and you’re actually missed—they stand by you and support you and offer to be there with you to go and see everybody again.

They really do care about you, and you…

You care about them, too.

A whole hell of a lot.

You hope they know that.

-

They take care of you through an episode.

They talk to you and bring you food and don’t seem to mind when you can’t really respond to them the way you want to and you can’t for the life of you figure out how they don’t see how special they are, how wonderful and amazing and so far from ‘just anybody.’

Your soul throbs when you look at them and you have no idea how you got lucky enough for them to like you the same way.

When you find out Napstablook is gonna be on TV and you had no idea, you, the former Mister Phalange On The Pulse, knowing everything about everybody, that’s what seals the deal.

You have to get back out there.

It’s time.

And you’ve got an incredible little human you’ve been dying to show off.

-

Going back to Grillby’s is like going back in time.

There’s some old faces, some new ones, and even if you get a dressing down and your tab is revoked (that one hurt), it’s still one of the best nights you’ve had since the old days, but even better.

You’ve got your human with you and everybody loves them, just like everybody loves your brother; a little overdue, but the sparkle in Pap’s eye-sockets when Dino asks him for an autograph is incredible.

That night is everything you could’ve asked for and you want to have a lot more like it.

-

You only hit one real hurdle.

On your six-monthiversary, which Pap assures you is a very real and very serious thing, your human finds a little something you’d missed.

Its sharp, curved edges are…even now, when things are so good, they’re a lot more tempting than you want to admit.

There your human is, offering it up to you, easy as can be. You know you could take it, squirrel it away somewhere, just to have it and maybe…the next time you have a bad day, or feel like you need it…

They would never know.

Your hands are already covered in scrapes and scratches, far too many for them to keep track of. One more would just be…

A huge step backward.

You reach out, closing their hand around the obsidian. You can tell that they like it, that they think it looks cool, and that kind of simple, uncomplicated passion for a neat-looking rock is beautiful.

It’s too beautiful to ruin by falling back into old, shitty habits that never really helped you anyway.

You give it to them for safekeeping. You know you’re making the right choice.

You go outside and look at the stars with your human, holding them close and telling them how happy you are, finally, after working so stupidly hard to get here.

They say they want to learn constellations with you, they want to do it as a couple, and they’re gonna make flashcards and in that moment, you can’t deny the thought even one second longer.

This is your human. They’ve helped you be so much better and you want to keep being better, by their side for as long as they’ll have you.

You’re in love.

-

Your vision fades back in and you’re you again, Sans kneeling in front of you on the bed. Your souls fade out, too, going back where they belong but there’s still at least one heart-shape you can see, red and beautiful in the middle of Sans’ eye-socket.

When you speak, it feels like you haven’t done it in a long time. “What…what did you see?”

Sans smiles at you, soft and affectionate. “everything,” he says. “i love you.”

You think you know why he can say that to you so boldly, so easily, without fear of rejection.

If he’s seen as much of you as you’ve seen of him…if he’s seen himself through your eyes, then he already knows you feel the same.

You say it, anyway. “I love you, too.”

He reaches out to you, cupping your cheek in one hand. You nuzzle tenderly against his scars—scars you hadn’t recognized as scars before—and you look up at him with a cheeky little grin.

“You saw all my super-embarrassing stuff, I guess? And you love me anyway?”

“heheheh…you kiddin’? makes me love ya’ more.”

“Ditto.” You snicker as one of his memories floats back to you. “Please tell me you have pictures somewhere of Papyrus’ goth thing.”

Sans laughs out loud. “oh man, so many. a whole album, i’ll show ya’ sometime.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that!”

He leans in for a quick little nuzzle, something you’d call a peck if lips were involved.

“ya’ got any questions for me?” he wonders quietly. “anything ya’ want me to…?”

You think about it, but… “No. I’m good.” You think you’ve seen everything, everything important about your skeleton that you could ever really need to know. “How about you? Any questions? Concerns? Criticisms?”

Sans chuckles. “just one. why…why’d you want to get to know me so bad in the first place?”

Of all the questions for him to ask, that’s probably the one that makes the most sense.

Why had you wanted to know him so much, way back when you’d first met? When he was just a vaguely scary-looking stranger you saw at work sometimes and nothing else? Before you’d had even the slightest idea that there was a sweet, funny, wonderful man lurking just beneath the surface?

“Honestly,” you say slowly, really thinking about it, “I was just…curious about you.”

Sans’ grin broadens, a teasing note entering his voice. “curiosity killed the cat, y’know.”

“Hmm. Really?” You give him a smirk. “Guess it’s a good thing I’m a dog-person, then.”

“heheheheheheheh…”

His eye-sockets are doing that feline, crinkly thing again that you love so much.

“But…” you add after a second, “I guess cats are pretty cute, too.”

You stretch a little, reaching up for a kiss.

Sans holds you close and in that moment, you know you were right.

Life is good.

Prev Chapter | Next Chapter

[thepenisparker]

obscure ◍ peter parker x reader

description:

“do i even matter to you anymore? just answer me that.”

“…you don’t.”

pairing:

MCU!PETER PARKER/SPIDERMAN X READER

read it on wattpad!

table of contents:

one.               two.            three.         four.         five.            six.            tbc

three.

Peter and (Y/N) started walking from school talking mostly small talk. What classes they were taking, found out they both had wood shop and chem lab together.

"So why'd you switch to Midtown Tech?" Peter asked, walking down the steps to the subway.

"My Dad has always wanted me to follow in his footsteps. So when he got a job in Queens we picked up everything and came out here, and he put me at Midtown Tech so I can focus on my engineering skills." (Y/N) shared while using her metro card.

"And you don't want to?" Peter asked, rubbing his arm. The more time he spent with her the more attractive the girl next to him got. He continuously was getting overwhelmed by how much prettier she was getting to him.

"No.. I don't know. I mean, I don't know what I want to do for the rest of my life. I like photos and art and reading but I don't know what any of that can be as a solid career." (Y/N) said, "I just want to find something I'm really passionate about. And I haven't found that yet. But I'm just a big believer in you shouldn't do things you aren't passionate about."

"That's a good mindset." Peter said. Smiling at his clammy hands.

"What about you?" (Y/N) turned, leaning against a streetlight.

"What about me?" Peter asked.

"Do you know what you want to do?" (Y/N) pressed.

"Uh, I think so. I mean I actually have the, uh," Peter fumbled.

"The Stark internship, yeah. That's really cool. But what do you want to do for him?" She asked. The subway came screeching just then flying Peters hair into a frenzy and (Y/N) found it very hard to keep from vomiting on him because of how attractive it was.

"Um, well. I, uh, just stay at Mr. Stark's side really like you know watching how he creates the technology for his suits and the other suits and tech for the Avengers." Peter explained. Boarding the subway quickly.

"That's really awesome! See, that's something to be passionate about. I was never really into superheroes growing up, but seeing the Avengers do what they do, that's amazing." (Y/N) sighed, "I would die if I could suddenly gain superpowers."

"Tell me about it." Peter kept a smug grin on his face, (Y/N) thought he may be making fun of her. She hit him playfully on the arm.

"Don't give me that face! Don't act like you never wanted to be a superhero." (Y/N) laughed, but also noting that when she hit him he had very toned biceps. It's like he's asking for her to have a crush on him.

"Of course! What little kid wouldn't?" Peter said and she hit him again, "What was that one for?"

"For telling me my dreams are childish." (Y/N) crossed her arms, "I could be like Black Widow if I wanted to."

"I have no doubt." Peter smiled. While Peter was looking down, (Y/N) took the opportunity to look at his profile, take the boy's face in a little bit.

"So, you said you live with your aunt, where do you guys live?" (Y/N) asked, not giving up on his conversation.

"Uh, like in an apartment off of 23rd street?" Peter said.

"Oh really? That's like 2 blocks away from me." (Y/N) said.

"No way! 21 or 25?" Peter asked.

"21st Street, like right across from Delmar Sandwiches and next to that Chase ATM?" (Y/N) said.

"Yeah, I know exactly where that is. I was actually going to Delmar's right after this." Peter straightened his backpack, getting ready to get off the train, "I go every day after school."

"Me too, I mean now, my mom just started working for him at nights as his bookkeeper." (Y/N) said.

"He's the best." Peter laughed, getting off the subway (Y/N) behind him. Suddenly Peter started moving a lot faster, "Think he has a crush on my Aunt though."

"Peter, I've seen one photo of your Aunt and I have a crush on her." (Y/N) laughed, "I can't really blame him."

"Stop!" Peter whined, running down the steps and out to the street. Mr. Delmar's was a block away.

"I can't help it, she just seems like such a nice lady." (Y/N) put her hands up.

"Well get in line behind everyone else in Queens, okay." Peter picked up the pace in his steps.

"I'll gladly wait for that woman." (Y/N) played around. Peter laughed, rolling his eyes.

"I think she would like you," Peter said, surprising himself that he said it out loud.

"Thank you. I hope I can meet her soon." (Y/N) said, Peter wondered how she stayed so calm. But realizing it was probably because he was alone in his affections.

Earlier that day, after lunch, Ned even elbowed Peter about how cute (Y/N) was. Then he said he hadn't really noticed. Ned only rolled his eyes and said she may be a good homecoming date. But Peter was way too scared to do something like ask a girl to homecoming.

"Yeah definitely." Peter said, "Ok, favorite Delmar sandwich order?"

"Number 5, easily. I haven't tried everything but that's been my favorite so far." (Y/N) shrugged, Peter motioned to his head and then a fist pump out.

"Yes! Yes! Now you have to meet Aunt May, she's been trying to tell me the Number 9 is better for years." Peter said.

"Ew, doesn't that one have way too many onions and a weird bread?" (Y/N) said, making an ick face.

"Yes, exactly. Eck." Peter said, (Y/N) repeated the noise. He noticed that it was much easier to talk to her than any other girl he had tried to talk to. He always thought he had a very specific type of girl he liked, like Liz Allan, but maybe he was wrong.

They continued to joke and talk about things that make them go "eck." And every time they would make the noise louder. So much so that a stranger told Peter to shut up. The two just laughed harder because of it. They ran across the street with their backpacks to finally make it to Delmar's.

"Hey, what's up?" Peter said to the guy outside, Jaime.

"Hey, man." Jaime responded, Peter smiled. They both walked in.

"What's up, Mr. Delmar?" Peter said, walking in. (Y/N) stayed behind a bit but close enough to Peter that it was obvious they came together.

"Hey, Mr. Parker." Mr. Delmar smiled, leaning against his counter,

"Number 5, right?" Kalen in the back said.

"Yeah, with pickles and could you smush it down real flat? Thanks." Peter said his routine order.

"You got it, boss. For both of you?" Kalen added, looking at the girl amused with the Murph the cat.

"Number 5, too but I don't need mine smushed down." (Y/N) said.

"Ms. (Y/L/N)! Does your mother know you're hanging out with this hoodrat? I mean I know you're desperate for friends but c'mon." Mr. Delmar joked.

"Yeah, between you and me I don't know about this one." (Y/N) played along.

"I'm seeing you tonight for doing your homework in here, right? I better see some work done not any oggling about this idiot." Mr. Delmar waved his hand. (Y/N) felt the heat rise to her face, as much as she tried to play it cool her body wouldn't let her.

"Me? Never! Of course, I'll be in here." (Y/N) smiled awkwardly and kept her face toward the cat. Peter saw how red her face got, he was staring at her really. His insides starting doing backflips.

"How's your aunt?" Mr. Delmar pulled Peter's attention away.

"Yeah, she's all right." Peter grabbed some gummy candies off the shelf and put them on the counter.

"Ella es una mujer italiana muy caliente." Mr. Delmar laughed to his co-worker. (Y/N) knew what that meant, and aparently so did Peter.

"Como esta tu hija, eh?" Peter crossed his arms and got an extremely cocky grin on his face that only mad (Y/N) more flustered than to begin with. She laughed. He was so cool, and it was like he didn't even try.

"10 dollars." Mr. Delmar frowned. Peter's mouth dropped.

"It's 5 dollars!" Peter pointed to the menu.

"For that comment 10 dollars, you're paying for (Y/N)." Mr. Delmar demanded.

"C'mon I'm joking, I'm joking." Peter pulled out his wallet, "Lucky, I was going to pay for (Y/N) anyway."

Peter hands him the $10, then reaches behind (Y/N) to pet Murph.

"What's up, Murph?" Peter said, then became suddenly very aware of how close he was to (Y/N) and even though she had no problem with this it was like his insides exploded and he backed off.

"So, how's school?" Mr. Delmar asked.

"It's boring, got better things to do." Peter said packing his stuff in his backpack.

"Stay in school, kids. Otherwise you're gunna end up like me." Mr. Delmar motioned to his sandwich shop.

"This is great, I don't know what you're talking about?" (Y/N) hushed him, grabbing her own sandwich, the one that looked more inflated than Peter's.

"Best sandwiches in Queens." Mr. Delmar added on their way out.

"Alright, well uh," Peter looked around when they got to the crosswalk, "I've got to run, I have a lot of homework tonight."

"Yeah, yeah, me too." (Y/N) said, looking at her doorstep to her apartment building.

"But, uh, I'm free later. I was thinking if you're going to be at Mr. Delmars doing homework I could maybe come help you out? Not that you need it, I just-" Peter started rambling.

"I could use all the help possible. I'm gunna be here from like 6 til my mom leaves for the night which will be around 10. So anytime in there, I'd love for you to come by." (Y/N) said.

"Cool, uh yeah." Peter said, stepping out into the street, "I'll see you later then?"

"Yeah, sounds good!" (Y/N) started turning around when she heard a honk and turned back. Peter had almost gotten hit by a car. She laughed to herself, he wasn't like everyone else.

what do you guys think? please tell me by liking, reblogging or messaging me here! please dear god i’m very lonely.

happy reading!

NEXT PART..

[phandomsecretvalentines]

Moonlight

This is my valentine for @orchestralester! I hope you like it!

- @realityfallsapart

tags: fluff, AU (of sorts), vv minor angst

words: ~2.4k

Summary: Dan Howell is waiting for his date with his long-time crush to begin. His night turns sour, however, but a stranger with eyes clearer than the sky just so happens to make it his goal to fix things. By the end of the night, Dan starts to believe that maybe things do happen for a reason.

(ao3 link)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dan dragged the straw through his water, watching as the liquid swirled and the ice clinked against the glass. The straw had made countless laps at this point, and Dan wasn’t even paying attention to the action anymore. He had spaced out, his gaze vaguely directed at the empty seat in front of him.

“Hun, are you gonna order yet?”

Dan jumped at the soft voice, the waitress’ question tearing him out of his thoughts. He turned, blinking rapidly, orienting himself once more with the world around him.

“Oh uh, no, five more minutes, please.”

The corner of the waitress’ lips turned down and even though Dan wasn’t looking at her in the eyes, he knew that if he did he would see sadness and pity. He could feel her gaze turn from his face to the vacant side of the booth, and back to him.

“Okay, babe. Call me over when you’re ready,” she said, gently, as if she was talking to a scared and beaten down animal, before walking away.

Dan sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands. He didn’t blame her. Dan had been waiting in this booth for the past half an hour, and with each minute ticking by, the prospect of his night turning out as okay as he had planned kept getting bleaker and bleaker.

Chase Thompson, Dan’s crush of over three years, had asked him out all of two days ago at the end of biology class. It was the only class they had ever shared in their entire academic careers, and Dan was sure that before this year, Chase hadn’t even known he had existed, but he had been resigned to that for a while. So, of course, when they were paired together as lab partners for the year, Dan had done his best to not jump for joy. They had become sort-of-friends, close enough to text an obscure meme to at three in the morning and think nothing of it but still lacking all of the personal details that true friends knew about each other. Dan had made it a goal to try and get Chase to fall for him without it being too obvious, so when Chase had asked him this past Wednesday if he’d “like to go out to the corner diner in town” Dan had very nearly combusted. And when he had asked why, just to keep his hopes from jumping up too high, and Chase had replied with, “for a date, obviously. You’re cute, Daniel Howell” Dan quite literally could not stop the wide smile from taking over his face.

He had been on cloud nine for the rest of the day and the day after that, his happiness not the least bit diminished today either. Dan wasn’t sure that he had ever smiled so much in such a short time.

Now though, Dan was still waiting for his prince to show up. He had checked that he was in the right diner three times, and had gone through their texts to make sure that he had the right time too, at least twice. Right spot, right time. Hell, Dan was even in the best booth, tucked away in the corner to give them a little privacy, but also within eyesight of the front door, so it wasn’t like Chase had missed him.

Dan contemplated sending a text. Was Chase okay? Stuck trying to get here? He was at school today, that was for sure, they had seen each other across the hall (he had disappeared by the time Dan had reached here he had been standing, but that wasn’t the point). Dan still wasn’t sure about the text, however. He didn’t want to seem clingy or anything—they hadn’t even had a first date yet!

He fidgeted in the seat, his fingers playing with the case on his phone. Dan looked out the window. It had started raining, droplets of water pitter patter-ing against the glass pane. Dan stared at the puddles forming, his finger aimlessly drawing unseen patterns in the condensation of his glass of water. He let his shoulders drop. Chase would be here.

He would.

  ~~~~~

  Dan’s head was in his hands. He wasn’t hungry anymore, wasn’t even in the mood to do anything but find his way into his bed and hide under his duvet forever.

It had been an hour since Chase had vowed to show up.

Dan had sent three texts, all of them unanswered. The waitress had given him a slice of pie “on the house” and told him that there were plenty other fish in the sea. It was kind of her, definitely, but Dan had lost his appetite.

He’d been stood up, his hope’s of landing the guy crushed, and heart heavy in his rib cage.

Dan was also aware of the occasional pitying stare of a fellow customer, a “oh that poor boy” thrown in his direction in a weak tone.

The entire time of his wait, Dan fell lower and lower, his self-esteem crumbling with every “five more minutes, please” he directed at his waitress and every thought of he’ll be here, he promised, that bounced around in his head. Dan felt sick. He wanted to go home and forget everything, forget his stupid feelings and forget that Chase even existed.

Like Chase had probably done about Dan.

Dan winced as that particular thought grew in intensity. It hurt, a lot, but it was probably true. Three years of pining after someone who doesn’t even know your name will do that.

He slipped his phone in his pocket and gave another wistful glance at his untouched pie. It looked delicious and Dan hated to waste it, but his stomach was churning and in knots that would put Harry Houdini to shame; he didn’t want to eat.

The little bell above the door chimed, and Dan’s nearly-beaten-to-death hopes fluttered, but he didn’t look up from the table. Those same hopes crashed to the ground, however, when the footsteps approached the counter, seeming to go for one of the barstools. Dan heard their voice talking with the waitress, felt the stranger’s gaze on him.

Dan swallowed, trying to work past the lump in his throat but failing spectacularly. That’s it, he decided, I’m leaving. Dan braced one hand on the table and started to stand, his eyes still downcast when he felt a hand on his shoulder, one that pushed him down (not that Dan was really fighting against it, he was all out of fight at the moment) and back into his side of the booth. Dan looked up in surprise, only to meet the gaze of a stranger sitting himself down in the seat across from Dan.

He looked a little older than Dan himself with crystal-like blue eyes and high cheekbones framed with black hair that was too dark to be anything but artificial. He was pretty. Very.

“Sorry, babe, traffic was hell,” he stated simply, as if they had known each other for years. As is he was the one that Dan had been waiting for. The man picked up the menu that had previously had no attendee and flicked his eyes down once over it before once again turning that intense gaze in Dan’s direction, a smile playing at his lips.

Dan recovered his ability of speech and masked his surprise and confusion as best as possible.

“You have the wrong person, look, it’s fine I don’t care I was leaving anyway-” Dan breathed, once again making a move to get up, but the man wrapped his fingers around Dan’s wrist, loose enough for their hold to be easily broken if Dan wished. Dan stilled at the cool touch. He didn’t know why, but he did.

“Are you sure?”

It was a simple question, really, and if Dan was any sane person, he would say yes and leave, because he swore that someone somewhere had been kidnapped like this, but then again, Dan figured that nothing else could possibly go wrong tonight, and if he was kidnapped, then he was kidnapped. Besides, maybe if he stayed here a little longer the rain would stop and he could walk home without becoming completely drenched.

So Dan sat, his brows furrowing.

“Why are you sitting here? And who are you?” Dan asked. He hated how lost his voice sounded but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to rewind the whole night.

“When I came in, you looked really sad, so I asked the waitress if you were okay, and she said that you had been stood up and had been waiting for a really long time. I didn’t want you to sit here all by yourself, nor did I really want your whole night to be ruined.” He reached forward and squeezed Dan’s hand, a show of support. “As for who I am, my name’s Phil Lester, aspiring film director and lover of animals.”

Dan snorted, imaging Phil as one of those people who came in and cooed over every single one of the animals that were in the pet store that Dan worked at. The mental image fit surprisingly well.

“Film director, huh? And animal lover? That’s an interesting combination.” Dan said, shaking his head. He was smiling though, so Dan would give Phil that—he’d made Dan smile pretty easily.

“Excuse you, it’s the best combination.”

“Is that so?”

“Uh, yeah, it is, because that makes me qualified to give both advice on how to properly edit footage and which dogs are the best dogs for petting and snuggles.”

Dan feigned to look appalled, hand on his chest and everything.

“Excuse you, but all dogs are good dogs for petting and snuggles. If you’re going to disrespect dogs like that then sorry mate, but this date is over.”

The word “date” slipped out before Dan had even realized it, but he bit his tongue and tried to ignore the feeling of a blush starting to form. Phil reaching out and once again wrapping his long fingers around Dan’s wrist as if he was afraid that Dan would actually leave, also wasn’t helping.

“You didn’t let me finish! I was going to say: ‘but that’s a trick question because they’re all good’” Phil whined, pouting.

Dan rolled his eyes, pretending to be disbelieving. He hoped Phil got the message.

“Fine. I’ll accept it. But you’re on thin ice, mister.”

Phil smiled, and Dan decided that he looked even prettier when he smiled.

They picked up their menus, both deciding without a word that they would try and keep it cool, look like they were planning on staying, and hope that the other wasn’t going to go anywhere any time soon.

Dan’s stomach grumbled and he suddenly became very aware that he hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

The waitress came over, this time a wide smile on her face, little crinkles at the corners of her eyes.

“What would you two like to eat?” she asked. Her voice was sunny and she sounded ridiculously pleased with herself.

They both ordered, Dan biting his lip as he paid attention to how smooth Phil’s voice sounded, trying to not be so obvious about it. He hoped that it worked.

“So,” Phil said, his voice pulling Dan from his thoughts and from the direction that the waitress had just walked away, “I already gave you my name, but what about you?”

Mentally, Dan cursed himself, at least a little—he hadn’t even given Phil his name! Outwardly, however, Dan blushed, stuttering a little in embarrassment.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. My name’s Dan, er, Dan Howell. Yeah.” he finished, lamely. Dan inwardly cringed into next fucking week—god, he was so socially inept he can’t even introduce himself.

Phil seemed to not notice. Or at least, he didn’t bother pointing it out. Instead, he smirked.

“Dan, huh? It suits you. So, Dan,” Phil started, that adorably sexy smirk still on his face. Phil flicked a piece of hair away from his eyes, pushing it back up into the rest of his fringe. “tell me something about yourself. It can be anything: favorite book, what color socks you’re wearing, the meaning of life…it doesn’t matter. As long as it’s about you.”

Dan groaned, leaning back.

“Don’t you dare get me started on the meaning of life there, Lester, I have too many existential crises as it is, I don’t need your help nor do I need one right now.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, really. So uh, no getting stuck in my thoughts tonight, thanks.” Dan said, throwing his hands up as if in disgust. Phil giggled and Dan’s eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that his tongue poked out.

“Alright, alright, no crises allowed then.”

Dan snorted, picking up his glass and taking a sip. He didn’t fail to notice how Phil’s blue, blue eyes stayed on him the entire time.

  ~~~~~

  When they eventually stumbled out of the diner, almost two hours had passed since Phil had first sat down across from Dan. They had eaten Dan’s pie while they were waiting for their meals, and then had even gotten a sundae to split as well, just so they could keep sitting there in their own little bubble, tucked away from the rest of the world.

Chase had never showed.

Dan didn’t care.

Phil had insisted on paying for the meal, wouldn’t even let Dan pay for the tip no matter how much the brunet protested.

“My date, my check,” Phil had said. (Dan had tried very hard to not blush at that, ending up failing. Oops).

The rain had stopped, the downpour down to nothing but a few droplets here or there. Dan hardly noticed.

They kept talking—mainly Dan waffling about Star Wars and Phil nodding along—and Phil didn’t mention anything about leaving. Dan didn’t mind.

About a dozen steps away from the diner, however, Dan felt a hand slot itself in his own. The fingers were smooth and surprisingly warm. Dan looked down at where his hand met Phil’s.

“Is this okay?” Phil whispered, as if noises too loud would disrupt the moment. Dan laced their fingers, marveling at their fit.

“Yeah, it is.”

And later, when they parted, new numbers in their phones and giddiness in their chests, Dan certainly didn’t mind at all when Phil tugged Dan close by their linked hands, his free hand cupping Dan’s jaw and kissing him softly under the moonlight.

Dan’s lips still tingled long after Phil had left them.

[puddingmcmuffin]

For the ship and number ask, Turtlebug and (I'm being terrible because I'm throwing a lot at you) 1, 3, 4, 5, 7, 8, 16, 18, 31, 32, 35, 36, 39, 40, and 43. n.n

Turtlebug (Zarkon/Reach Ambassador(Talak))

1. How do they fall asleep? Wake up? Any daily rituals?

Neither of them are usually the type to outright say that they want to cuddle or anything, so when they first get to bed, they give the other space. But at some point, one of them rolls over and takes the other into their arms.

If Talak is feeling cuddly, though, he’ll bring it up in a way that makes it seem that Zarkon is the needy one.

Both are pretty good at getting up early, Zarkon because he doesn’t need much sleep, and Talak because he’s just used to getting up early. It can depend on who wakes up first, but whoever does typically waits for the other to wake up before getting up.

Also kind of related, I was asking my friend how well Zarkon would do with cold, and she told me that not only would he need all of the space heaters and blankets, but he would also drag Talak underneath the covers and use him as a space heater.

3. Are they open about their relationship? How do they feel about public displays of affection?

Like most of the Ambassador’s relationships, it needs to be kept secret. He’s a diplomat and really isn’t supposed to be getting to know Zarkon beyond a professional relationship.

If it’s just a fling, it’s more of an open secret. But if it looks like there are actual feelings between the two, that would be when the Reach Homeworld guys would get worried, since they can’t have their Ambassador be emotionally compromised.

Zarkon in general prefers the private aspects of his life to remain just that. Public displays of affection do not happen. Baseless rumors will always be there, of course, of what he and Talak actually are to each other, and those he doesn’t bother to have silenced. To go out of his way to assure people that he isn’t messing around with the Ambassador would only prove that there was something going on, so by simply ignoring those rumors while they’re flying around means that most people will ignore that idea as well.

(There are probably people who secretly hope it’s real though, and have probably written fanfictions about them (Varkon’s probably read some of them))

4. First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

NOPE.

Zarkon’s first inclination when he saw Talak was to get pissed off, since he thought the Reach had sent Talak as an insult (it was the clothes). As for Talak, he figured that Zarkon had a really huge ego, since Haggar was doing most of the talking when they first met (figuring that Zarkon just thought he was “too good” to talk directly to him).

Talak did think he was pretty attractive, hence why he started trying to mess with Zarkon’s head almost immediately, to see how he would react and also if he could get something out of it.

5. Nicknames? Pet names? Any in-jokes?

Zarkon tries to use the line Talak first used on him a lot (the “something beautiful” thing), although it doesn’t always make a lot of sense for the situation and Talak makes fun of him for it a little.

7. What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?

Talak doesn’t like how often Zarkon goes to see the gladiatorial matches, mostly since they’ve gotten to a point that Talak needs to go with him, and he just really, really hates going to those things. He’s annoyed that Zarkons seems to actually like them, and while he understands wanting a distraction from the duties of being emperor, it would be nice if he could find something else to give his attention to.

Zarkon at times feels that Talak is not entirely genuine when they are alone. That might just be something that is inevitable, though, since Talak’s job as an Ambassador means that he constantly needs to be making people happy, and therefore, sometimes the things he says just feel fake.

Zarkon also wishes Talak would at least cover his stomach (but if he mentions it, Talak will counter with “but I thought you liked it considering how you were staring at me that one time”).

8. What do the like best about their partner?

Both like the physical traits of the other; Zarkon thinks Talak is beautiful, and Talak thinks Zarkon has a rugged handsomeness.

Zarkons also likes Talak for his intellect, and how fast he can pick up on something. He also admires that Talak was never afraid of him, despite the fact that Zarkon could easily destroy him if he really wanted to.

Talak has a preference to big muscles and deep voices, so there’s that. He also likes the serious air Zarkon has around him (that Talak will break just to see him try not to get flustered).

16. Do they keep secrets? Lie? Cheat?

Secrets are inevitable in their relationship. Although it’s never been said outright, their treaty was made for the sole purpose of finding a weakness in the other. The Reach are looking for a way to destroy the Galra from within, and the Galra are doing the same with the Reach. For that reason, certain secrets can never be shared.

Both have also kept quiet about secrets more personal to them. Talak once asked what Zarkon’s relationship was to Haggar, and Zarkon, knowing that he couldn’t give a vague answer without making Talak more curious, just told him that Haggar was his oldest friend and supporter, and that she has been by his side for thousands of years. (the truth about Haggar is probably something Zarkon has never told anyone)

18. What are their dates like? How long do/did they date? Do they ever feel the need to take a break from each other?

When Zarkon isn’t trying to make Talak uncomfortable and Talak isn’t trying to mess with Zarkon’s head, they usually will just sit in private at the end of the day, drinking wine and chatting. It’s good stress-relief for both of them.

31. Do they finish each other’s sentences? Pick up any phrases or habits from each other? Know when the other is hiding something?

Zarkon found that he seemed to be using prettier language after spending some time with Talak (although it isn’t always good since he wants to maintain the image of a ruthless warlord).

They both on occasion will finish the other’s sentence, although when Zarkon does it to Talak, he’s somewhat annoyed by it. It’s fine when he does it to Zarkon, but he doesn’t like it when it’s done to him (so Zarkon does it when he wants to annoy him).

32. Do they ever get into trouble? Is it serious, or are they just mischievous?

Zarkon can technically get away with whatever he wants, considering that he’s the emperor of an entire galactic empire. But again, there’s that image to maintain, so he needs to make sure his actions aren’t out of place. Talak is also under constant scrutiny, so getting into trouble isn’t a good idea. Neither are the type to cause mischief, anyway (although Talak has considered trying to put Dawur into the gladiatorial matches, but he knows the Enforcer would actually enjoy that).

35. Do they bring out the best in each other, or the worst? Do they have a fatal flaw?

It’s hard to determine if these two can bring out “the best” in each other, since the way they view the universe is the same (and very harmful to the people that they take over). In that sense, they can be considered to be bad for each other, since all they’re doing is encouraging the belief that the universe needs to follow their ideals.

But in the case with these two, there would be no semblance of a relationship if they didn’t agree with each other on that front (no serious relationship with Talak, and no relationship at all with Zarkon, honestly). The people who would disagree with them aren’t the kind of people either would generally associate with.

36. What’s their greatest strength as a couple? Their weakness?

They’re very good at talking things out, and with diplomatic issues, they’re very good at working together. They’re also very like-minded.

Both have a good amount of pride and a bit of an ego, though (although it’s a bit worse in Talak’s case). And this is something else that is encouraged in their relationship; a little bit of an idea that they’re better than those “beneath” them (except Haggar; Haggar is deserving of the utmost respect).

(Talak is somewhat confused by what Haggar is to Zarkon, and although the answer the emperor gave him did seem truthful, it seemed like there was more to the story. He wants to know what the deal is, but is trying to find a way to find out without asking, since he’s sure Zarkon will either repeat himself or just stop talking to him about it.)

39. Who initiated the relationship? Who kissed who first?  When did they realize they were in love?

Talak technically did, but as he usually does, he did it in a way that made Zarkon make the first move. Pretty much he would just bait Zarkon until Zarkon took action. So that first time they made out Zarkon initiated it, but Talak drove him to that point.

40. Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to?

The places they can go while being unseen are limited; most often they’ll go to Zarkon’s throne room or a private room on the Reach flagship (or to one of their private quarters, if they can get there unseen >_> ). Any place where they can sit quietly together is special enough.

43. Do they talk often? What about?

Largely about the projects the Reach’s scientists are doing with Haggar’s druids, and how those are turning out. They also talk about the history of each of their species; where they came from, and how they got to the point where they are currently.

One night Talak went on a mini-rants about the Green Lantern Corps and how annoying they are, which then segwayed into all of the other lantern corps. Zarkon was a little surprised that with how many lantern corps there are, he had never run into even one of them.

[panpytaked]

Smile

Jaehee stared at her home that was once a comfort place but was now infested with insects, a tent pitched over it. The RFA guys stood with her in silence until Yoosung spoke up, breaking the ice. "Hey, Jaehee. I guess you'll have to live with one of us now! It'll be like a sleepover!" "I hope you mean temporarily, Yoosung," Jumin said and Yoosung nodded. "Of course. Anyways, do you want to live with me, Jaehee? I don't have much because I'm broke... and I'm a mess... but I go to school so you'd be alone sometimes.. actually, that might not be fine with you, do you like company?" "It seems Yoosung isn't a good roommate," Zen said. Yoosung gave a look like he was about to say otherwise but shut his mouth as soon as it opened. "Maybe you can live with me. I don't have a lot in my fridge either but I'm clean and almost always there with the exception of my career," "But what about MC? Would she be jealous?" Seven perked up and Zen's face fell. "That's right. I'm not sure what she'd react like and besides, I'm still recovering from that Echo Girl fiasco. I'm sorry, Jaehee," Zen said, his face sad and Jaehee smiled at him. "It's okay, Zen. I wouldn't want to live with you as long as those points remain," She said. Seven tapped her shoulder. "My turn! Okay, so, I'm always in my room and may ignore you but I can provide jokes and I have an asskicking maid. She can talk to you and provide entertainment by tasing me in front of you. I'm very messy so you may end up being my maid too... You could wear my maid costume!" "No," She said simply, turning to Jumin. Jumin gave a sigh before looking down at her. "I know what you're saying," He said, being able to read what she wanted. He thought for a moment. "I'm clean with the exception of my Elizabeth III's hair. I always have food. I won't make you dress as a maid. I don't have a potentially jealous girlfriend. I'm not a broke college student and some of your belongings are already at my house anyways. I suppose I'm the logical choice for you unless you'd like dressing as a maid," Jumin said, listing off things and finding almost no error. "I will not dress as a maid," Good. "I suppose you are my living partner for the time being then," Jumin said. "I believe you'll have to do with what I have clothing wise, though. You're locked outside your own house, after all. It's a good thing most options are either your own clothes or ones either I buy you or you buy yourself," Jaehee sighed as she looked at her own house. She never thought she'd ever live with her boss unless she were a live in nanny or something like that. ----------------- She found it was actually rather easy to situate living there. Jumin and her had gotten used to it fairly quickly. Every morning, Jaehee would say good morning and Jumin would do the same. They'd get ready for work and leave together. Then come home together and either relax or sleep, it really depended on how the work day was. Jaehee had been the one to turn on the television today since she was very excited for Zen's big role. Jumin wasn't anywhere near as excited but sat with her anyways, petting Elizabeth III to pass time if he didn't want to watch the show. He could see Jaehee was excited, he knew when she was. Her eyes sparkled, her face relaxed, she smiled largely and she talked in a much higher pitch than he was used to. She was prettier when she was happy but work seemed to drain all of that from her. He loved that she looked like this even if she was with him, who should be the prime reason for her happiness drain. He realized he was staring and decided to look at the tv, where Zen was currently in a conflict with another character. It was a type of plot line Jumin was never into. Too much fighting and romance for his taste though Jaehee seemed to not mind it as she was glued to it. He wondered which she liked more, the gushy romance or the brutal fighting. Maybe she just liked that it was Zen. It was almost fun to wonder what she preferred. He liked being curious about something that he could think about for hours. It was like making up a whole world. Jaehee seemed to be the center of the world he was thinking of at the moment. He could ask but where was the fun in that? It was nice that Jaehee hasn't noticed his eyes seeming to drift back to her most the time. He couldn't help it, his brain was working overtime on what Jaehee preferred with everything. Did she like this or that? How would she react is I said this? How would she react if I did that? He knew her fairly well but he didn't know what she liked people to do for her. Was she simple or did she like extravagant? He had his money on simple but he could always be wrong. "Mr. Han," Jaehee said, making his train of thought disappear. His full attention was on her now but in a "pay attention" sort of way and not a "I wonder" sort. "Yes?" He responded when she didn't continue. "Would you like to watch the show instead of me? Or are you okay?" Jumin felt his face turn hot in embarrassment at being caught. He knows he wasn't very charitable with how he divided his staring. He was bound to be caught sometime. "I just was wondering about you," He said honestly. She smiled and gave a small chuckle. "Next time, just talk. I'm sure I'll be able to pay attention to you instead of Zen's wonderful performance for a little bit," Jumin concluded she liked that it was Zen acting and not the plot. He gave her a smile that reached his eyes, making them sparkle almost like hers when she was happy. It was Jaehee's turn to appreciate his smile. A/N: I DON'T HAVE ANY TIME FOR RAREPAIR WEEK BUT I MADE IT

[tonystarktogo]

I'm a sucker for tattoo shop AUs (Deep in the Heart of Me is my favorite fic EVER), and I can imagine Tony being the manager of a famous shop, and accepting stray artists that want to find a job and are poor/homeless/lost (among which Bucky, Clint and Nat), and just giving them a goal, a home and a future and ARG

Thank you for reminding me of the beauty that is tattoo AUs!!!! I can’t believe I forgot about this to be honest, I used to adore them in almost every fandom, but I haven’t thought of them in ages until I got your ask! I’m unfamiliar with the fic you’ve mentioned–I don’t read a lot of Stony–but I think I’ll give it a try! But for now, let’s get back to this AU.

I really like the idea of Tony being this crazy, loveable owner of a tattoo shop who hires very questionable people under ridiculous circumstances because he’s insane like that. I also headcanon that said questionable people are very protective of their smol boss because of it.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” the stranger snarls disturbingly animalistic.

“Uhm.” Tony stares at the knife—a real knife and definitely not one for the kitchen—and scruffles a tiny step backwards. Backs against a wall before he has the chance to bring a little more distance between himself and Stranger With Knife.

Damn those walls and the stupid people that build them.

He’s going to die here, alone, in an abandoned backstreet. Where nobody will find his body until they’ll have to hold the funeral with a closed coffin. If they’ll ever find his body.

There’s probably a life lesson in here, about how you’re not supposed to follow unknown men a head taller than you and double your weight in muscles into an abandoned backstreet for one. But Tony’s attention is too fixated on the knife to care much about unimportant details like that.

For once, he hysterically thinks, Rhodey won’t be able to scold me for my messed up priorities.

“I won’t ask again!” the man hisses dangerously. He’s got shaggy hair that could do with a cut and a wash, and his eyes flicker with the same restlessness that drew Tony to him initially.

And fine, he probably shouldn’t have followed the guy. He can see how this could be considered “creepy” by people less fluent in Tony-speak than Pepper or Rhodey. Natasha will undoubtedly slap him—gently, because she’s secretly a poisonous snake who’s adopted Tony as this weird, bumbling kitten that will not get killed by anyone but her—for this later. You know, if there is a later.

“I was wondering if you want to work for me,” Tony blurts out because he can’t think of anything else to say. Also because it’s true.

“I’m not fuckin’ work for hire!” the man growls. “I don’t do that shit anymore, so either back the fuck off or I’ll make sure you won’t need anything anymore!”

Alright. Tony decidedly isn’t going to ask what the guy’s going on about. Nope. Absolutely not. That would just be too stupid, even for him.

“What are you talking about?” he asks and promptly wants to knock himself out. At least that might improve his chances to not talk himself into an early death. Clint will not be impressed if he misses is 8 o’clock appointment tomorrow and he has to cover for Tony—neither will the customer. Clint isn’t useful for anything before eleven in the morning.

The man’s eyes—they’re a cold blue that would look a lot prettier if they weren’t levelling a glacial glare at Tony right now—narrow even further, the knife itching ever so slightly closer towards Tony, and nope, not a fan of that development at all.

“Look,” Tony decides to try and deescalate the situation, “You don’t have to answer that. Actually, please don’t answer that, because this sounds too much like one of those I’d tell you but then I’d have to kill you thingies and Natty would not be pleased if you did. You know, kill me. Unless you tell her I called her Natty again. For some reason she really doesn’t like that? But what do I know, women are weird,” he muses with a shrug.

“Right, I was trying to make a point. See, you could just wave your knife around and possibly- probably kill me, which would really suck. Cause I’m not a big fan of being dead before my liver gives out on me and you don’t look like you’ve got another jacket, and blood is a bitch to get out.” Not that it would be much of a loss, with the oversized, worn down thing the man’s wearing. It looks like it’s being held together by stubbornness and nothing else.

He might have said that last part out loud as well, if the guy’s twitch is anything to go by. Tony can’t decide whether that’s a good thing or not.

“Or,” he hastily continues, “you could listen to my gracious proposal, accept it with genuine appreciation and enthusiasm and in two years we’ll both laugh about this moment.” He finishes with a bright smile and a happy clap. Screw Natasha and Pepper, he can be reasonable and mature. He’s not the one waving a butcher knife around after all.

Said knife is slowly lowered by the stranger who tilts his head to one side in a show curiosity. He seems—amused, almost. Or maybe that’s Tony’s screwed perception of reality talking. Clint’s mentioned he has a problem at one point, something about seeing a ravaging monster and cooing over it and wanting to pet it. Which is nonsense, Tony doesn’t want to pet anything. Except maybe the guy’s hair, once it’s been properly cleaned. And that’s not his fault, it looks like it could be fluffy.

“I’m listening,” he drawls, almost like he’s humouring Tony. The joke’s on him though, because Tony is used to being humoured.

“Do you know Stark Tower? What a stupid question, of course you do, but just in case you don’t, it’s the best tattoo studio in the entire country, trust me on that, and it happens to also belong to me. You’d look great with a couple of tattoos by the way, really help round off that assassin-gone-rough vibe you’ve got there, and I’d totally do them for free or maybe not free. Pepper says I’m not supposed to give people things all the time, but you wouldn’t tell on me, right?”

“Anyways, I saw this,” Tony lifts the crumbled paper he’s rescued from the garbage at the café he’s first noticed Mr Tall, Dark and Knifey—and hadn’t that led to a fun conversation with the waitress—and waves it around as if to stress his point, “and you’ve got some real talent with the abstract design there, because this is amazing and I’d want it as a tattoo, wich says something, my taste is fantastic. Also I’m missing a designer because that asshole Wade keeps running off to do one thing or another and I’m not allowed to hire Peter until he’s legal.”

The guy stares at him in bemusement while Tony tries to catch his breath. Admittedly not an uncommon reaction.

“You’re offering me a job?” he asks after a moment in disbelief—and damn, this guy is catching on to Tony-speak real quick, he’s the right choice all right.

“Yup,” Tony nods. He’s thought he’s been fairly obvious.

“You’ve been following me for two subway stations, three bus stops and a couple of dozen street corners to offer me a job because you saw something I’d scribbled down at a café,” the man repeats incredulous.

Tony shrugs. “I didn’t know how to talk to you. Clint says I come on too strong usually.”

“And you thought stalking me would make me feel more at ease?”

“Well, no.” Tony frowns. “Maybe? I wasn’t—but doesn’t prolonged exposure get you used to someone?”

“Prolonged- never mind,” the guy shakes his head. “You’re crazy.”

A pause, then, “I don’t need a job.”

Tony scoffs. “Have you looked at yourself lately?” he asks, mulls over his words for a moment when the man tenses. “Alright, that might have come across as offensive but seriously. I don’t care if you need a job or not, it’s yours if you want it. Just show up sometime next week and tell Natty I hired you and if Clint is there please throw your knife at him, he’s an ass and screams like a banshee.” Tony searches his pockets for a moment before he finds one of his, admittedly worse for wear, business cards and offers it to Mr Death By Blade.

“You’re crazy,” the man states again, but he takes the card.

“Get used to it,” Tony smiles is sunniest smile because take that Clint, he can hire new staff without getting anyone killed.

*

“Have you ever even held a tattoo gun in your life? It’s not a real gun, for fuck’s sake! Tony!” Clint is heard screaming in exasperation through the studio a couple of days later. “What the fuck where you thinking when you hired Bucky?!”

Tony doesn’t look up from where he’s carefully drawing the worlds’ prettiest butterfly onto a young woman’s shoulder when he yells back, “Who the hell is Bucky?!”

*

[Bonus: “You’re taking all this surprisingly well,” Bucky comments at one point.

Clint shrugs. Takes a look at one of the designs over the newbie’s shoulder.

“Tony’s as fucked in the head as they come, but he’s a freaking genius at finding the best. If he’s hired you than that’s what you are. He wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

A moment of thoughtful silence follows, before.

“In three weeks, I’m gonna tell you how he hired Tasha.”

“Why in three weeks?”

“Studio rule. If you’ve made it three weeks without killing anyone, you’re part of the team.”

“Inside the studio or in general?”

“…you’re gonna fit right in.”]

I think I’m having way too much fun with this…