#He gives people whiplash when he talks because his voice is so deep

[leelreallylikespersona]

He's so pretty it's unreal

Salmael is definitely the easiest to turn into a human since he already looks like one, but I still had a lot of fun doodling him, his design is so much fun (✿◕‿◕✿)

AU ramblings + No text alt are below!

For sure the most relaxed of everyone in the team. Salmael doesn't usually raise his voice, so on the rare occasion that he does, everyone listens.

Before finding EMMA, he acted as the navigator for the team, only joining in combat when necessary. After his awakening, he could use split-consciousness to detect any nearby signs of life. After EMMA takes the role of navi, he is able to better focus on attacks, specializing in pierce-type physical moves. I'm still working on magic typings for the group, so I'm unsure what his is!

He's Yaldabaoth's and EMMA's younger brother (✿◕‿◕✿) Salmael definitely acts like the eldest though.

Yaldabaoth doesn't understand how he is perpetually relaxed, while EMMA makes fun of his outrageously fancy lounging wear.

Salmael gets along pretty well with everyone, though he prefers to keep to himself. He was initially not a fan of Nyx, given the stunt she tried to pull, but eventually learned to accept her as she is now.

Satanael and Izanagi are way too extreme for him. He thinks they're dense, but he doesn't dislike them.

His deity state is now equipped with even more guns! I'll draw that out sometime soon... Fighting in his humanoid form though, he uses... a gun. Or any long weapon such as spears.

His hair? He has to do it up every morning. He is very high maintenance.

If you want to know why he's lovers, read this

He is trying so hard not to call everyone "little lost lambs" or constantly preach about serenity. Not that he's embarrassed about it, but the others make fun of him.

[scary-grace]

the boy anon spooky prompt here and it would be very cool to see it reader x shigaraki if possible. I just really like the way you write it and i think it would be interesting.

Hi! Thank you so much for the prompt! I had to go check out the movie for this one, and I agree -- it was really interesting to write! I hope you enjoy this take on it. Happy Halloween! (dividers by @cafekitsune)

d-o-l-l-h-o-u-s-e

You need a job and a place to hide. The Shimuras need a nanny for their five-year-old son Tenko while they take a three-month trip abroad. It's a match made in heaven -- or it would be, if it wasn't for the fact that Tenko's been dead for seventeen years, and they want you to look after a doll that looks just like him. It wouldn't take much for you to be convinced that the doll's haunted by Shimura Tenko himself. And it is haunted. Just not the way you thought. (cross-posted to Ao3)

You’ve been on and off apprehensive since you stepped off the train at Kurouzu station, and more on-apprehensive than off since the directions you printed off pointed you straight out of town, but when you actually reach the address you’re aiming for, the nerves kick into high gear. This is the Shimura family’s estate, all right. The address is right, and so is the sign. And you know the Shimuras have money, or else they wouldn’t be able to afford paying a broke twentysomething to live in their house and watch their son – but still, you weren’t expecting their house to be this huge.

It feels iffy. Is it actually iffy? Or do you just want it to be iffy because you’re into self-sabotaging and you’re nervous about babysitting a five-year-old for three months? Whether it’s iffy or not, you still need money. And somewhere to stay. And you made a promise. You take a deep breathe, then ring the doorbell.

The door opens so fast that it gives you whiplash, and you find yourself staring up at a tall, dark-haired man with fine features and a mouth that’s primed to frown. “Mr. Shimura?”

“Yes. You’re late.”

“I’m – sorry?” You stumble on the words. “I thought I was – just a few minutes –”

“You’re fine, sweetheart.” A pretty, brown-haired woman appears over Mr. Shimura’s shoulder, a nervous, strained smile on her face. “Kotaro’s just a little anxious. It’s been years since we took a trip, and he’s still a little worried that something’s going to go wrong.”

“Yes,” Mr. Shimura agrees. There’s a pause. “Come inside. Tenko is quite anxious to meet you.”

Right. The kid. You put on a smile. “I’m excited to meet him too.”

The Shimuras’ house is pretty on the outside, fancy on the inside – but dark. All the curtains are drawn, and the lights aren’t bright enough to compete with shadows. It doesn’t look like the kind of house that a five-year-old lives in. You don’t know a lot of people with five-year-olds, but you’re pretty sure that five-year-olds are messier than this. There should be toys around. Or kids’ books. There should be brighter colors, better lights, maybe an open window or two. It can’t be good for Tenko to have things this dark.

What do you know? You’re not a parent. Then again, you’ll be the one responsible for Tenko for the next three months, so maybe you can make a few changes around here. You bought a book on developmental theory to read on the train, but instead you ended up watching TikTok videos until the 5G vanished. Maybe you’ll start reading it tonight after you put Tenko to bed.

“So, um –” you start, as Mrs. Shimura leads you up the stairs. “Can you tell me a little bit about what Tenko’s like? I mean, obviously I’ll ask him, but –”

“Oh, we can tell you!” Mrs. Shimura’s voice is bright. “He’s –”

“After you meet him,” Mr. Shimura interrupts from behind you. “Wait here.”

You pause, and Mr. Shimura slips past you to join Mrs. Shimura up ahead. They duck into a particular room, and you can hear them talking quietly. In the meantime, you take stock of your surroundings. The Shimura house is sparsely decorated, but on the wall opposite from you, there’s a family portrait hanging. It’s a good one. Mrs. Shimura, Mr. Shimura, and two children. The boy, the smaller one, must be Tenko. But there’s another one. A girl.

She doesn’t look that much older than Tenko. Is she old enough to go on a European tour with her parents, or is she staying with somebody else? If she’s staying with somebody else, how come Tenko isn’t staying there, too? Before you can really wind yourself up over something that’s none of your business, Mr. Shimura steps out into the hall, followed by Mrs. Shimura, who’s carrying Tenko. He must not be very heavy – she’s beckoning you forward with one hand.

“He’s a bit shy,” she says, apologetic. You have a split second to realize that something’s off about the kid’s position in her arms before she steps forward, fully into the light. “This is Tenko, our son. Say hello.”

You can’t say anything at all. All you can do is stare, because Tenko’s not a little boy like you thought he’d be. Tenko’s not a boy at all. Tenko’s a doll.

“A doll?” Manami asks. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure,” you hiss into the phone. It’s a big cordless phone, and you’ve got it pinned between your ear and shoulder as you pack and unpack your suitcase over and over again. “A big, creepy doll. Why would I lie about this?”

“I mean, I don’t think you would,” Manami says. She sounds bemused more than anything else. Maybe you need to say “creepy” again, with more emphasis. “How big is it?”

“Like, kid-sized. They put it on the bed at night.” You can’t think of the whole bizarre ritual Mr. and Mrs. Shimura demonstrated for you without feeling like you’ve lost your mind. “They have a daily routine for it – I’m supposed to wake it up in the morning, and take it out of its pajamas and put it in its clothes and make it breakfast –”

“Why do you have to make it breakfast? Dolls don’t eat.”

“I know dolls don’t eat. Everybody and their mother knows dolls don’t eat! Even little kids only fake-feed their dolls.” You want to scream. “But they want me to make it breakfast. And play music for it. And read aloud to it – and make it lunch and dinner and read it a bedtime story like it’s a real kid. I’m even supposed to give it a goodnight kiss.”

“But it’s not a real kid,” Manami says. You hit your head against the bedpost, producing a hollow thunk. “Why do they have you taking care of a doll like it’s a real kid? Do they even have real kids?”

“They do. Did.” You wouldn’t let the Shimuras leave without giving you an answer about that one, and because they really wanted you to stay and look after their creepy doll for three months, they didn’t screw around. “Two of them. Tenko – the one they named the doll after – and an older girl named Hana. They both died in an accident seventeen years ago.”

“Oh, that’s awful.” Manami sounds like she’s tearing up. You probably would have teared up, too, if the Shimuras hadn’t told you that after they’d handed you the creepy doll they named after their dead son. “They lost both their kids at once? I would go crazy too.”

“That’s the thing. They didn’t,” you say. “Not all the way. There’s only one doll.”

“That’s kind of weird,” Manami admits. “Why wouldn’t they make one for Hana too?”

“It gets weirder. Hana has a shrine. I’m supposed to take care of it.” That’s the least weird part of your job. If all you were doing was taking care of shrines to the Shimuras’ dead kids, you’d be perfectly happy. “They don’t have a shrine for Tenko. And the only picture they have of him is in this big family portrait on the wall.”

“Huh,” Manami says slowly. “Rich people are weird.”

“That’s all you’ve got to say?” you ask, exasperated. “Rich people are weird?”

“They are. Poor people wouldn’t make a life-sized doll of their dead kid and pay somebody to take care of it like it’s alive,” Manami says. You think she’s probably right. You’re poor, and if you had a kid who died, you – well, you don’t know what you’d do. You definitely wouldn’t do that. “Does it look like him?”

“Yeah. Creepily like him.” When you were racing upstairs to drop the doll on the bed and lock it in, you were unnerved enough to stop by the family portrait and check. “And creepily accurate, size-wise. Like, if you didn’t look too hard, you’d think he was real.”

“He is real,” Manami says, and you almost drop the phone. “I mean, the doll is real.”

“Right.” The doll is a little too real for your taste. “I think I meant alive.”

“That’s creepy,” Manami says, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You called her looking for validation, and you got it. You should have expected her to ask for details first. You would have. “What are you going to do?”

“I can’t stay here,” you say, but even as the words leave your mouth, you know they aren’t true. “I can’t leave, either. I need the money. And I need to be – away. For a little while at least. Until everybody forgets.”

“Until he forgets,” Manami says. Your ex-boyfriend, everybody. He’s so popular in town that they might as well be the same thing. “He came around last night looking for you. Danjuro told him off.”

You were already on edge over the doll thing, but that piece of news soaks you in an instant cold sweat. “Did he say anything?”

“Danjuro or Keigo? Danjuro would never,” Manami says, offended. You try to pace your breathing, praying you won’t hyperventilate. “Keigo said he was just worried about you, because he didn’t see you come to work yesterday – and when he asked everyone said you’d quit – so he thought he’d stop by –”

“Fuck.” If you could go back in time and give your past self one piece of advice, it would be to send the town’s youngest police chief in history packing when he asked if he could buy you a drink. That one bad decision spiraled into a nightmare you’re still struggling to escape. “I don’t understand. What is it going to take to make him stop?”

“You’re doing the smart thing. Going away, letting things die down,” Manami says. “I know this new place is creepy, but you picked it for a good reason. They’ll pay you cash, so Keigo can’t trace your cards. It’s a small town off the map, so it’ll be hard for him to find –”

“And I’m supposed to spend all day playing house with creepy Tenko, so no one will be able to tell him they saw me.” You’ll wear a disguise if you have to go out into town. Now that you know Keigo’s still looking for you, you need to be even more careful. “I just wish I wasn’t stuck here. And I wish it was a real kid.”

“Real kids pee their pants and cry,” Manami says practically, and you manage a wheeze of laughter. You knew talking to Manami would make you feel better, even if nothing has changed. “Trust me. You’re better off with the doll.”

You might be better off with the doll than a real kid, but for the first week or so of your stay in the Shimura house, you neglect doll Tenko in a way that real Tenko would never have let you get away with. Real Tenko probably wouldn’t have put up with being locked in his room all day, or being fed breakfast at two pm because you stayed up late and slept in later the night before. And real Tenko definitely wouldn’t have tolerated being schlepped around feet-up because you don’t like having his scary porcelain face so close to yours.

Then again, real Tenko probably didn’t like listening to classical music at max volume, either. Real Tenko’s also been dead for seventeen years. It’s probably safe to stop worrying about what real Tenko would think of how you deal with his freaky little homunculus counterpart.

Whenever you’re not conspicuously ignoring Tenko’s schedule, you’re getting to know the rest of the Shimura house – and outside it, the Shimura estate. It’s beautiful, so beautiful that you have a hard time imagining how anything in Europe could measure up, and when the weather allows it you spend a lot of time outdoors, poking around on the trails that cover the property and watching whatever animals wander by. The animals here aren’t very scared of people. The Shimuras probably don’t allow hunting on their property, and based on what the mailman does when he stops by every afternoon, nobody in town likes coming near the property for too long.

One person does, though. The Shimuras let you know that somebody comes by to deliver groceries – and bring your payment – once a week, and you’re coming back from a walk on a grey, foggy day when you see him. He’s balancing four grocery bags in one arm and trying to unlock the door with the other. You hurry forward. “Here, let me get that. I’m sorry.”

“I rang the bell.” The delivery guy’s face is completely concealed by the pile of grocery bags he’s toting. “No answer.”

“Yeah, I was out for a walk.”

“I thought you were supposed to stay inside. You know, since Tenko’s allergic to the air the rest of us breathe.” The delivery guy steps through the door after you unlock it, then drops the bags on the kitchen table and looks around. “Where is the kid, anyway? He’s usually attached to Mrs. Shimura at the hip.”

“He’s, uh, taking a nap.” You look the delivery guy up and down, noting blue eyes and spiky white hair, along with some burn scars and a ton of facial piercings. “I’m sorry, they didn’t tell me your name.”

“It’s Touya.” He holds out a hand to shake, and you copy him as you introduce yourself. “Yeah, Mrs. Shimura mentioned that someone new was coming, but I wasn’t sure you’d still be here. They’ve tried out a lot of nannies, but Tenko’s kind of picky. Or so I hear.”

“Are you making fun of me?” you ask. Touya’s eyebrows lift. “We are talking about the same Tenko here, right?”

“The d-o-l-l? That’s right,” Touya says. You give him the weirdest look you can manage on short notice. “Yeah. The Shimuras get pissy if we don’t talk about him like he’s real, so we all got in the habit. You will, too, if you’re here long enough.”

“We,” you repeat. “How many of you are there?”

“Me and my siblings. The Shimuras hire us to do stuff,” Touya says. “The weekly deliveries are usually my thing, but Fuyumi or Natsuo might fill in sometimes, since they can drive, too. Fuyumi helps with their garden in the summers and Natsuo does maintenance shit. I won’t bring the brat out here until it’s time to chop firewood. One of these days I’ll get lucky and he’ll lose a limb.”

You think Touya’s joking. You’re not sure. “Which one’s the brat?”

“Shoto. My baby brother. Daddy’s favorite.” Touya scoffs. “He gets all the pocket money he wants. He doesn’t even need to work, but does he let that stop him? No. He makes me drag him out here anyway –”

Touya breaks off, glances at you. “Do you have siblings?”

“Yeah.” You have siblings the same way the Shimuras have kids, but you don’t bring that up unless you’re forced to. “I’m the oldest. I’m guessing you are, too?”

“That’s right.” Touya runs a hand through his hair, spiking it up even higher than it was before. “Not that I care too much about your backstory, but you must have something really shitty going on to make this the better offer.”

“Yeah. You could say that.” You’re not too interested in Touya’s thoughts on your backstory, either. You collect the envelope with your pay and sort through it quickly, confirming that it’s all there, then look up at Touya. “Do I need to tip you or anything?”

“Twenty percent is customary.” Touya doesn’t let that crack stand for very long. “No. The Shimuras might be off the wall, but they pay well for everything – grunt work like what I do all the way up to caring for their precious little boy.”

There’s a thud from somewhere upstairs, and you jump out of your skin. Touya startles, too, but he recovers faster. “Sounds like the monkey just fell off the bed. You should probably go check on that.”

“Yeah. It was, uh – nice to meet you,” you say. Touya snorts. “See you next week.”

You don’t actually think Touya would steal your money, but you take the envelope with you when you race up the stairs to the second floor, and drop it on your bed before hurrying into Tenko’s room. You spend as little time in here as possible. It’s like a time capsule, frozen on the day the Shimuras decided to replace their dead son but not their dead daughter with a photorealistic porcelain doll, and it gives off some of the worst vibes you’ve ever felt.

You leave Tenko in here most of the time because looking at him creeps you out, and in spite of Touya’s joke about monkeys on the bed, he’s exactly where you left him. What’s fallen over is a mostly-empty bookshelf, and there’s something behind it – a little alcove in the wall, with a pile of old, dusty toys. Action figures, mainly, along with a single plushie. You go to investigate, and discover that while you’re not much of a comic-book fan, you recognize almost all the action figures. They’re from Adventures of All Might, a cartoon your brother used to watch. It’s been off the air for ten years at least. What are toys from a show that old doing in a five-year-old’s room?

The answer occurs to you, and to your displeasure, it makes you even more uncomfortable than the question. This isn’t a five-year-old’s room. Shimura Tenko died when he was five years old – seventeen years ago, when Adventures of All Might was on the air. If Tenko was alive, he’d be about as old as you are. The thought weirds you out so badly that you nudge the action figures to the side and pick up the plushie.

Getting a decent look at the plushie first involves violently shaking the plushie until the dust comes up in a big cloud. Underneath the dust, the plushie’s dog-shaped, or more accurately, corgi-shaped. There’s a piece of yarn around its neck, with a cardboard tag hanging from it. You hold it up for a look and somehow manage to decipher the handwriting of a long-dead five-year-old. “Mon,” you say out loud. “That’s a good name.”

It's a good name, but thinking about it makes you miserable. A big, creepy doll might be all that’s left of Shimura Tenko, but Shimura Tenko was a real person – a little kid who liked cartoons and handmade a collar for his plushie, who’d be your age if he’d had the chance to grow up. Your eyes are stinging from the dust. You spend a few more seconds brushing it away, then carry Mon over to the bed and set him down beside Tenko.

You’re surprised at how much less unsettling the sight becomes now that you’ve added a toy to it. It’s improved enough that you feel okay spending a little longer in Tenko’s room, righting the bookshelf that fell and arranging the action figures on top of it, before you go downstairs to put away the groceries.

The Shimura house is old. Old houses make noises – weird noises, a lot of the time, and that’s just something you have to live with. You’re good at living with it most nights, but tonight, as the first really big storm of autumn rages around the house, the noises you hear sound less like old-house creaks and groans and more like footsteps. And voices. And laughter. No matter how hard you try to distract yourself, you can’t.

You tried to call Manami, but the phone lines are down, and while you haven’t tried the lights, you’re pretty sure they’re out. All you can do is huddle up in bed, the door to your room barricaded, mumbling to yourself like an actual lunatic. “This is fucked up, this is fucked up, this is so fucked up –”

You’re fucked up. You think something’s haunting this place? The ghosts of a five-year-old and his seven-year-old sister, who didn’t even die in here? Some haunting. It’s your overactive imagination putting you through hell, and you’ve got proof – your shitty ex-boyfriend Takami Keigo is very much alive, and your mind’s been telling you that one of the laughing voices belongs to him. If you were faced with a choice between a living Keigo and a ghost Keigo, you’d pick the ghost in a heartbeat. Ghosts can’t stalk you when you try to take a break from the relationship and enlist the entire town, police force included, to their cause. And you could probably exorcise him, which would be a lot easier than whatever you’d have to do to get rid of real Keigo for good.

The sounds get weirder, and they’re coming from all over the place – the ceiling above you, the hallway, the rooms on either side of yours, even inside the walls. Maybe you’ve got rats or something. You’ll ask Natsuo about that when he comes over tomorrow to clear leaves out of the gutters and branches off the roof. It’s fine if there’s rats tonight, right? You can take a rat in a fight. Probably even ten rats. You’re not going to get eaten alive by rats. Ghost Keigo could be dealt with. Rats can also be dealt with. It’s just your imagination. You need to get it together.

It's just past three in the morning, and you think the getting-it-together is going okay, when a particularly big gust of wind rattles the house. There’s a colossal bang from somewhere, but only one. The windows are shaking in their frames, producing an odd, warped sound, and somewhere beneath it, there’s another sound, a sound that’s got no place in this house. Someone’s crying. It doesn’t take much or any stretching of the imagination to convince yourself that it’s a kid.

You decide instantly that you’re not going to waste time trying to talk yourself out of it. You’ll go check on Tenko, confirm that Tenko is in fact still a doll and not a real boy, and then you’ll go to bed and sleep in as late as you damn well please.

The wood floors in the hallway are cold beneath your feet, but it’s only a short walk to Tenko’s room – and then you have to double back, because you don’t have a flashlight and the lights are out. You’re already spooked and already frustrated by the time you open the door to Tenko’s room, and when you open the door, you’re ready to be mad. You click on the flashlight, raise it, and pan it over the room. And then you freeze.

Tenko’s room is trashed. Multiple shelves have been overturned, toys and books spilling everywhere, and the curtains over the boarded-up window hang in tatters. The shade’s off the lamp on the nightstand, and the dresser drawers yawn open – or else they’ve been pulled free and scattered across the room. The sheets are askew on the bed, the bed itself shifted at a weird angle. Tenko is nowhere to be found.

“Tenko?” you say hesitantly. You pan the flashlight again, and for a split second, you see a shadow crouched atop Tenko’s bed, far too big to be the doll. You don’t need to see any more than that. You drop the flashlight and scream.

The storm drowns out your scream, and you run out of air eventually – and then you’re tired of it. Screaming’s not doing anything to help, and if the shadow was going to kill you, it would have done it by now. You crouch down and feel along the floor until you come up with the flashlight, which still works. You check the bed first, but there’s no shadow there. There never was. The only things in this house are you and Tenko, and neither of you was up on the bed like a gremlin five seconds ago. You keep looking for Tenko. He has to be in here somewhere.

And he is. You find him behind the door, Mon-chan in his arms, his knees drawn up to his chest. “Hi, Tenko,” you say, like a crazy person. “Did you get scared?”

He doesn’t answer, of course. Because he’s a doll. He’s a doll, and you’re crazy. Knowing that doesn’t stop you from looking around at the wreckage of the room, thinking about how scary it would be to have to go back to bed in here if you were a kid. Thinking about how you used to be scared of lightning and thunder – maybe still are. “If you’re still scared,” you start, “do you want to stay in my room for tonight?”

Five minutes later, you’re setting a line of pillows down the middle of your bed, leaving one half for you and one half for Tenko. And Mon-chan, because you felt less weird about inviting a doll to sleep in your bed if the doll has its plushie, too. Once you’ve got Tenko squared away, you block the door again. “It’ll be daylight soon,” you tell yourself. Then, to Tenko: “We’ll fix your room up and everything will be fine.”

Tenko’s eyes are open. His eyes are grey, like they are in the family portrait, with long lashes. You reach out and close their lids carefully. The chances that you’ll be able to get to sleep are slim, but they’re zero as long as you’ve got a doll staring at you.

“It’s weird, right?” you say anxiously as Natsuo scans the mess in Tenko’s room. Most of the Todoroki kids don’t come inside the house, but you managed to lure Natsuo inside by mentioning the really loud bang you heard last night. “The wind couldn’t have done this.”

“Not with all the windows boarded up, yeah.” Natsuo looks wary. “You sure you don’t sleepwalk or anything?”

“Never,” you say. “I just – it was like this when I came in.”

“This is creeping me out,” Natsuo says, but he doesn’t look away. He’s looking around the room. “Where’s Tenko?”

“I moved him. In there.” You nod toward your room. “Things got wild in here last night. I kept thinking I was hearing voices, or laughter – or kids crying –”

You sound like a lunatic, again. Why does everything that happens to you make you look and feel crazy? “Have any of the other nannies mentioned things like that?”

“No,” Natsuo says, backing away from Tenko’s room. He glances into your room again. “Hey, Tenko. What – wait, you found Mon-chan? I remember that thing.”

“Huh?”

“That used to be his favorite,” Natsuo says. “When he was alive.”

You didn’t get much sleep last night. You’re a little slow. “Wait, you knew him?”

“We all did. Hana, too.” Natsuo starts down the hall, aiming for the stairs to the third floor. “They’re the richest family in town, and our shitty bastard of a father only wanted us to associate with the best. We all played together.”

You wish somebody had told you that earlier. “What was he like?”

“I don’t really remember,” Natsuo says with a shrug. “I was four. Touya would know better. You should ask him.”

He disappears up the stairs, and you chase after him. You don’t spend a lot of time on the top floor – it’s the master bedroom, and Mr. Shimura’s study, and a lot of stuff you feel like you shouldn’t get involved with. Natsuo doesn’t seem to have the same problem. “The attic’s open,” he calls. You climb the last few steps. “I bet the thud you heard was the trapdoor coming down.”

“Yeah, I think you’re right.” The trapdoor and ladder look heavy enough to produce the sound. “Can you fix it?”

“I’d have to climb up in there.” Natsuo looks really wary now. Out of the three older Todoroki siblings, he’s the one who’s least comfortable with coming into the house. “How about you climb up and look at the hinges? I’ll tell you what to look for, and I’ll come up if there’s anything wrong.”

You don’t want to go up in the attic, either, but you also want to make sure this doesn’t happen again. You nudge past Natsuo and climb the ladder into the musty dimness of the attic. Dimness, not darkness – there’s a skylight, the first window on the upper floors of the house that’s not boarded up completely. The attic itself is cluttered and dusty, but there aren’t any cobwebs that you can see. Small favors.

You crouch down by the trapdoor. “Okay. What am I looking for?”

Natsuo tells you, but even without his instructions, you probably could have figured it out. One hinge has been completely sheared away, dangling by one barely-there screw. Natsuo climbs up to study it with you, frowning. “This doesn’t look like metal fatigue. And the wood’s still in good condition. I don’t understand why it would just break.”

“I don’t know,” you say. “Can you fix it or not?”

“Yeah,” Natsuo says. “You have to stick around, though. I’m not staying up here alone.”

“Fair enough.”

While Natsuo works, you investigate the rest of the attic, trying not to sneeze and create a dust storm. At least half the attic is taken up by objects labeled as belonging to “Mom”, but they’ve been there way too long to be referring to Mrs. Shimura. You blow some dust off of a big picture frame to see what’s inside and find yourself looking at a poster that could be from a circus. The background is black and yellow and grey, the lettering ornate but still legible. Psychopomp, Medium, Illusionist: See the Spectacular Shimura Nana!

The next picture frame in line has a picture of Shimura Nana herself, and it’s immediately clear to you where Mr. Shimura got his looks from. Shimura Nana is gorgeous, dark-haired and grey-eyed with a bright, almost cocky smile on her face, and there’s a birthmark just below the corner of her mouth that looks familiar. When you think about people who can talk to the dead, you don’t think of them as looking this happy.

You carry both picture frames back to Natsuo. “Did you know their grandma was a magician?”

“No.” Natsuo glances at the frames, then flinches, almost dropping his screwdriver. “Shit. If I were you, I’d get out of here.”

You raise your eyebrows, and Natsuo gives you an exasperated look. “Somebody who could talk to the dead used to live here. The people who own this place have a doll that they treat like their dead son. And last night something trashed their dead son’s room. Haven’t you ever seen a horror movie? This place is haunted.”

“Don’t say that. I have to live here.”

“It’s gonna be haunted whether I say it or not.” Natsuo gives you a weird look. “Is it just the money thing? There are other ways to get money.”

“It’s not just money. I have to stay out of the way,” you say. “There’s this guy – my ex – he’s a cop –”

Natsuo’s mouth turns down at the corners. “I get it,” he says. “Our piece-of-shit old man is a cop. Our mom couldn’t get away, either.”

Your stomach drops. You know cops talk to each other. “Please don’t tell your dad that I’m –”

“Are you kidding? I barely talk to him. No way am I telling him that.” Natsuo says. He glances at you. “I get why you feel like you have to stay here. This place is still haunted.”

“Yeah,” you admit. You don’t know what’s haunting it – Tenko’s ghost, his sister’s ghost, his grandma’s ghost, or all three plus however many ghosts Shimura Nana summoned to hang out with her – but you have the same thought you had last night, and this time, you say it out loud. “I’ll take my chances with the ghosts.”

You get Tenko’s room reordered, and when the next storm comes, it doesn’t get trashed again. Then again, you go and grab the doll from the room the second you hear the first clap of thunder – not because you really think there’s a scared five-year-old ghost haunting it, but just to be safe. That same night, you retrieve Tenko’s schedule from where you abandoned it a month ago and read over it. Again, just to be safe.

It’s not that bad of a schedule, really. It’s not that weird. Most of it just involves moving Tenko from place to place around the house. You’d probably want a change of scenery, too, if you were a ghost haunting a doll. You don’t mind playing him music, but you play stuff you like, at a volume that’s a little less than earsplitting. You don’t mind reading aloud, so long as you’re reading your own books, and editing out the parts that aren’t kid-appropriate on the fly. And because he’s just there, and he’s not going to give you any feedback, it’s okay to think out loud.

At first it’s just whatever thought pops into your head, but as the days slip past in the second month of your stay at the Shimura house, you find that you’re getting into some stuff you haven’t talked about with anyone. And then, one day when you’re in the kitchen making your own dinner and setting out a plate for Tenko that you’ll inevitably throw away, you find yourself talking about something you swore you never would.

“I used to be a big sister,” you tell him. “Not like you and Hana. A bigger sister. My brother was five years younger than me, and he was my parents’ favorite, right from the start. That always used to confuse me. They liked him better even before he did anything.”

Confused is downplaying it. You were hurt. You still are, when you scratch the surface even a centimeter down. “I wanted to be a good sister, but it seemed like everything I did was wrong. I played too rough, or else I wasn’t playing with him at all. I didn’t share my toys, or I gave him toys he wasn’t supposed to have – and when I took them back, he’d always yell. And then my dad would yell. And I’d cry. But my brother was crying, too. And my mom always went to him.”

You glance back over your shoulder at Tenko. He’s sitting and waiting, like always, expression still and remote. You can’t look at him and say this next part. “When it happened, I was nine,” you say. “He was four. I was playing marbles, and he kept trying to grab them from me. He could talk by then – a lot – so I made a deal with him. He could pick any marble he wanted to play with, and let me have the rest of them. So he picked one – this big shooter, my favorite. Right out of my hand.”

The echo of your nine-year-old self’s anger still echoes through you, made all the more sickening by what happened next. “I tried to get it back, and he stuffed it in his mouth so I couldn’t. And then he started choking.”

You couldn’t get it out. You tried, screaming for help the whole time, but nothing you did made any difference. Nothing your mom did made any difference, either, and your baby brother was blue by the time the ambulance got there. Your parents didn’t blame you. You thought they were going to. You expected them to. But in their version of the story, you were barely there. You were their only kid again, and they couldn’t afford to hate you. Your brother grabbed the marble and swallowed it, and choked, and died. You just happened to be there. It wasn’t your fault.

But it was. You were the one who offered any marble he wanted. You should have known he’d pick the one you were holding – one that was too big to fit down his throat, one he’d try to keep away from you at any cost once he had it. You’re the one who couldn’t save him, and thinking about it doesn’t even make you cry. You’d say it makes you feel sick, but sick is too small of a word for the hollowness inside you. The place where you used to be a sister. The place where you used to be good.

“Today’s his birthday,” you tell Tenko, dry-eyed. “You’d be twenty-two like me if you were here for real, and he’d be seventeen, and I never told anybody that I gave the marble to him until just now. I don’t even know why I told you. I guess I thought you should know that it’s a good thing you’re not a real kid. Because I really don’t have great luck with those.”

You set Tenko’s plate down in front of him, knowing the food won’t be touched, then turn away to fill yours. When you turn back, the entire plate is gone.

You’ve gotten comfortable with the fact that the Shimura house is haunted. As comfortable as it’s possible to be when you don’t know exactly what’s haunting it. You put up with weird sounds at night, and with things being moved around, and you put up with some of your stuff going missing – but a whole plate of food vanishing because you turned around for two seconds? Nope. Not a chance. “Put it back.”

“He knows.”

You almost drop your plate, then tighten your grip. You’re losing it, officially, but you’ll be damned before you drop a bunch of food all over the floor. If you’re going to the mental hospital, you’re going well-fed. “I didn’t hear anything,” you say aloud. “I’ve just been talking to myself. That’s it.”

You stuff one bite, two bite, three bites of food into your mouth, and something speaks again. “Your brother. He knows.”

It’s not a little kid’s voice. Not the voice you’d imagine for Tenko as a ghost – but it doesn’t not sound like Tenko. It keeps talking. “He knows you tried to save him. And it matters that you tried.”

“How do you know?” Your voice rattles around the question, and there’s no answer. The strange voice doesn’t speak again, and the plate doesn’t reappear. “Please –”

“He knows,” the voice says. “He’d forgive you. If there was anything to forgive.”

The hollow place inside you has been there so long that you’ve forgotten what it’s like to have anything there. When something floods backs in, it hits with such violence that it drives all the air from your lungs. You shove your plate to one side and double over, gasping for breath. Your eyes burn and your throat closes, and before you know it, you’re crying.

You don’t really cry. Keigo always said something was wrong with you, that you didn’t show your feelings and he wasn’t sure you even had them. Crying feels awful. The headache it generates is all-encompassing, and you put your head down on the kitchen table and shut your eyes, waiting for it to stop. It seems like it’ll never end, and somewhere amidst the pain and embarrassment and relief, you find a shred of hate in your heart for Keigo. You never cried in front of him? He never made you feel anything worth crying about.

When the crying stops, the headache remains, and you sit up, rubbing at the crick in your neck. You must have fallen asleep; it’s dark outside, and the kitchen’s gloomy along with it. Not gloomy enough, though. Not so gloomy that you can’t see Tenko’s plate sitting back in front of him, wiped perfectly clean. The glass of water you poured for him is empty, too. And something clicks into place in the back of your head, only slightly warped by the headache.

Hana has a shrine. Hana’s shrine has offerings on it. Maybe the food you leave for Tenko is an offering, too. “Did you like this?” you ask. Your voice sounds awful. “I can make it again sometime.”

You have to start paying more attention to what Tenko eats, if he eats any of it. It’s the least you can do, after what he told you today. Even if it isn’t true, even if the ghost haunting the Shimura house decided to tell you a lie, this is the first time you’ve ever been able to think about your brother without feeling like you’re the one being choked to death. That’s worth a meal or two, in your opinion. You might actually need to learn how to cook.

You clear Tenko’s plate away, and on an impulse, lean down to kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” you say. It feels weird to be kissing a doll, especially when you’ve been skipping the goodnight kiss so religiously, but this is a special occasion. “I feel better now.”

“Wow, have you lost it,” Touya says, laughing. He drops the groceries on the far end of the kitchen table, well away from where you and Tenko are eating lunch. “You know he can’t eat, right? He’s a doll.”

“I know. But he’s dead, so it’s like – an offering,” you say. “Since he doesn’t have a real shrine.”

“Yeah,” Touya remarks. He opens the fridge and starts shoving things in haphazardly. “Real nice piece of work on his dad’s part.”

That reminds you of something Natsuo said a while back, something you’ve been meaning to ask Touya about. “Your brother said you all knew the Shimuras. That you played together. Is that true?”

“Yeah. My assclown father and their assclown father both fell out of the same assclown tree.” Touya shuts the refrigerator, then opens the freezer. “We’d play together sometimes. Go to the birthday parties and shit. Hana went to the same school as me and Fuyumi. That’s about it.”

He glances sideways at you. “Natsuo said you were going to ask. What do you want to know?”

“What were they like?”

“Hana – she was cool. Nothing threw her off, and nothing kept her down. Everybody liked her. Even my shitheap father, which is really saying something.” Touya shuts the freezer, too, and turns to face you. “Tenko, though – he was kind of a crybaby. Everything made that kid cry. Didn’t matter if it was good or bad. If he had a feeling for longer than two seconds, there went the waterworks.”

You didn’t have a real idea of Tenko’s personality in your head. You had what Mrs. Shimura told you – shy, sweet, playful – but you threw out most of what she said on principle because she was saying it about a doll. “He was a lot,” Touya continues, “but he didn’t have a mean bone in his body. It makes it kind of hard to believe the official story about what happened.”

“The official story,” you repeat. “The Shimuras just said it was an accident.”

“Yeah, they would.” Touya leans back against the kitchen table. “Both their kids drown in the well on the same day? Better be an accident.”

Your stomach lurches. “They drowned?”

“Both of them.” Touya pats his pocket, then comes up with a pack of cigarettes, followed by a lighter. “There are three schools of thought about what happened, and they all start with the well cover. I can take you out to look and prove it, but trust me when I say that thing’s a bitch – 20kg at least. The first school of thought says that Tenko got the well cover open and fell in, and when Hana heard him calling for help, she ran to help and fell in, too. And they both drown in there.”

You don’t understand why they need more than one school of thought. The first one is awful enough. “The second school of thought says somebody else opened the well cover and both kids fell in – and in that case, the question is who? The third one says that Tenko opened it himself and pulled Hana in after him. Guess which one the Shimuras went with.”

“They think he opened a 20kg well cover so he could drown himself in it and decided to take Hana with him, too?” You can barely believe it. You can’t imagine ascribing that kind of malice to a little kid. “I mean – I never met them, obviously, but – I don’t think he would –”

“I did meet him, and I don’t think so either. None of us do,” Touya says. He glances around the kitchen, his eyes lingering on Tenko for a second before drifting back to you. “Something really fucked up happened here. Fucked up things happen in the house I grew up in all the time, but not like this.”

He’s frowning. “My dad plays favorites, but he’s indifferent to the rest of us. Hana’s dad hated Tenko. You could tell.”

“How?”

“Because Hana wasn’t scared of him. Tenko was.” Touya lights his cigarette and takes a drag. “I wouldn’t spend too long thinking about it, if I were you.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to not think about it,” you say. You wish you’d asked what happened to Tenko and Hana sooner. “Is that why they’ve only got the one shrine?”

“Couldn’t tell you.” Touya shrugs, then heads over to the pantry to start unpacking the dry goods one-handed. “I can tell you this, though. When they went down into that well to get the kids out, they only found one body. And it wasn’t his.”

As if this couldn’t get more horrible. Picturing the children’s bodies floating together in the cramped quarters of the well is bad enough, but picturing just Hana, knowing that Tenko’s lost somewhere in the depths, never to be found – your skin crawls. You start unpacking the dry goods alongside Touya, trying to get through it quickly so he’ll leave. You need to be alone to think about this. You can’t talk to Tenko about it while someone else is here.

“One more thing,” Touya says under his breath. “Natsuo told me and Fuyumi about the thing. Dad cornered Fuyumi on it and she caved. So –”

So now a cop here knows that you’re hiding out from another cop. Your hands shake so badly that you drop the bag of rice you’re trying to put away. “Keep it together,” Touya warns. “We fucked up but we’re fixing it. The brat’s going to keep his ear to the ground, and we’ll keep an eye out. You should get as much advance warning as you need.”

“Okay,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank us,” Touya says. “Just think about what you’re going to do when the Shimuras get back.”

Right. You can’t stay here forever. It’s not like the Shimuras are going to let you keep taking care of Tenko when they’re here to do it themselves. Your expenses here are zero. By the time they come back home, you’ll have saved a lot of money, enough to do – something. Like get out of the country and never look back. Or hire someone to put a hit on Keigo so you never have to look over your shoulder again. Either way, you’ll be getting out of here. And you won’t see Tenko – or hang out with his ghost – ever again.

The thought shouldn’t make you sad, but it does. But nothing could possibly make you sadder than the thought of the Shimura kids trapped in the well. No matter how they got there.

Some part of you knew it couldn’t last – the part of you that’s familiar with the kind of guy you almost married, the one who always gets what he wants and can’t take no for an answer. Some part of you always knew Keigo would find you. But you weren’t prepared for what it would feel like to actually see him standing inside the kitchen of the Shimura household, surrounded by grocery bags and wearing a self-satisfied grin. You’d stammered out a question about what he was doing here, and Keigo smiled at you. “The police chief here’s a good guy. He let me know that his kids handle some of the work around here, and I offered to bring the groceries by so we’d have a chance to talk alone.”

He’d nodded meaningfully at Tenko, who you were holding. “We are alone, right? That’s just a creepy doll.”

You said yes, if only because you didn’t want Tenko anywhere near whatever you and Keigo were going to talk about. And now you’re in your room, under Keigo’s watchful eyes, packing up to leave.

The door to Tenko’s room is closed, but you’d be crazy to assume that his ghost couldn’t hear you no matter where you are in the house. “I can’t just leave,” you say for the millionth time. “This is my job. I made a commitment.”

“To take care of a human child. Not a doll.” Keigo is smiling, but his eyes are hard and glinting. “Getting out of here with me is the sanest thing anybody in your position can do. He’ll be fine.”

“No,” you say. Keigo raises his eyebrows. “They’ll be back in a month. Let me finish doing my job, and then I’ll come back.”

Keigo shakes his head. “I’m worried about your mental health. When I talked to the police chief here, and he told me his kids were helping you take care of a porcelain doll in a big house with boarded-up windows, I got even more worried. And I don’t want to be the one to break this to you, but the Shimuras were never planning to come back.”

“What do you mean?” you ask. Keigo reaches into his back pocket and produces a letter – one that’s clearly been addressed to Shimura Tenko, and one that’s already been opened. “Hey. You can’t just open people’s mail.”

“If it’s linked to illegal activity, I can do whatever I want.” Keigo slides the letter out of the envelope and clears his throat. “Dear Tenko, We are heartbroken to tell you that we will not be returning home. We can no longer live with what you have become. The girl is yours – the girl. That’s you, right?”

You can’t think of who else it would be. Keigo keeps reading, projecting his voice. “The girl is yours. She is yours to love and care for. May we all be forgiven. Yours, Mother and Father.” He lowers the letter, raises his eyebrows. “They’re sacrificing you to the memory of their dead son. You know, the one who was so sick and crazy he drowned himself just so he could drown his own sister?”

“That’s not what happened,” you say. Keigo laughs at you. “Shut up! You weren’t here –”

“Neither were you,” Keigo says. “I’ve read the police reports. The statements from the parents –”

“The ones Touya’s dad took?” You remember Touya and Natsuo comparing their dad to Tenko’s dad, and not in Mr. Shimura’s favor. “Sure. I guess they have to cover up for each other, or none of them would get away with it.”

“Okay. That’s it.” Keigo lifts the last pile of clothes out of your arms, drops them unceremoniously into your suitcase, and zips it shut. “The sooner you get out of this house, the better. We need to be far away from here by the time it comes out.”

“By the time what comes out?”

“This isn’t just the Shimuras’ goodbye letter, it’s their suicide note. Their bodies were recovered yesterday.” Keigo looks almost gleeful in the always-dim light of the Shimura house. Or maybe you really are just losing your mind. “Lawyers are going to be all over this place any day now. Let’s go.”

He pulls the suitcase off the bed with one hand, then grabs your arm with the other. “Come on. Don’t make this so difficult –”

“Give me the letter,” you say hopelessly. “I want to read it to Tenko.”

“You want to read a letter to a doll.” Keigo looks skeptical. “What’s that going to do?”

You invent something on the fly. “Closure.”

“Closure?” Keigo repeats. “Huh. I guess if it keeps you from fixating on this the way you fixate on everything else, sure. Go read the doll his parents’ suicide letter.”

Despair keeps your footsteps heavy as you make your way across the hall into Tenko’s room. You settled him on the bed with Mon-chan, like always, and you sit down on the end of the bed, the same as you do when you read him a bedtime story. “Tenko,” you start. “Um, I have to go. And I have something to tell you. I feel like you should hear it from me and not somebody else.”

You lay out the situation carefully, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry to leave like this. I don’t want to, but Keigo’s here, and he says –”

“Don’t want to?”

You haven’t heard the ghost’s voice since it talked to you about your brother. “I don’t want to,” you say. “Keigo says I have to.”

“Don’t make me sound like a dictator. I want what’s best for you,” Keigo says from the doorway. “That’s enough. Let’s go.”

“No.”

That was audible. Keigo should be able to hear it. “Keigo, did you hear –”

“You talking to yourself? Yeah.” Keigo grabs your arm, yanks you sharply away from the bed. “You went crazier than I thought in here, huh?”

“No.”

This time Keigo hears it. You can see it in his face. A split second later, the lights go out.

Keigo’s grip on your arm tightens. There’s a crash from somewhere else in the house, and his grip tightens further. He drags you out of Tenko’s room through the darkened house. “Did you plan this or something?” he asks you as you stumble down the stairs after him. “It’s a good show. If you put this much effort into making our relationship work –”

“NO.” The lights in the front hall switch on, revealing something standing dead center in the hallway, between you and the way out.

Keigo curses and rocks back a step, but you know instantly what you’re looking at, who you’re looking at. “No,” Shimura Tenko says. “No means no.”

Tenko doesn’t look very much like the doll anymore. His grey eyes are red, and his black hair is white, but you recognize his features. They’re the same ones from the doll, from the family portrait, from your memories his parents and the poster you saw of his grandmother. He’s thin, almost skeletal, his hands and limbs spiderlike. He looks filthy, and his clothes are ragged. If you’d had a nightmare of what might haunt this house the first night you moved in, it would have looked exactly like this.

You’re looking at Shimura Tenko. Shimura Tenko’s supposed to have been dead for seventeen years. You don’t know how or why he’s here, but you know one thing, one thing that’s been true since you realized the Shimura house was haunted: You’d rather take your chances with a ghost. “I don’t want to leave,” you say to Tenko, ignoring Keigo when he orders you to be quiet. “I promised I would stay.”

Tenko’s crimson gaze shifts from you to Keigo. “She stays,” he says in that strange, not-quite-human voice. “You leave.”

Keigo laughs. “Sorry, I don’t think you get it. We’re leaving. You’re staying right where you are.”

He starts down the hall again, your efforts to fight free barely making a skip in his stride. The front door opens a crack behind Tenko, and you can see a white-haired someone peering through. One of the Todorokis, maybe Touya or Natsuo who promised they’d warn you if they saw Keigo coming. Touya points at you, beckons. “I’m going to tell you this one more time,” Keigo is saying to Tenko. “Get out of the –”

Tenko lunges at him. Keigo lets go of you. And you run straight out the front door, down the front steps. Past the Todoroki siblings. As far and as fast as your legs will carry you, until you trip on something, hit your head on something else, and black out on the ground.

Smoke stings your nasal passages, and you wake up coughing. Someone is breathing raggedly next to you, and someone else is shaking your shoulder. “Come on,” Natsuo is saying under his breath. “Come on, come on –”

“No, be careful, she hit her head –” Fuyumi is patting your hand. “If you can hear us, we need you to wake up. It’s Tenko.”

Tenko, the doll? No, Tenko the – whatever he is. The thing that’s alive. The thing that’s real enough to challenge Keigo to a fight. You sit up with the worst headache you’ve had in maybe your entire life and look around. The grounds of the Shimura estate are eerily backlit, and when you glance over your shoulder, you see that the Shimuras’ house is in flames. “What – happened?”

“Tenko killed the cop,” Natsuo says. You look blankly at him. “Touya said we should burn down the house to hide it, and we thought Tenko understood. But then he went back inside.”

“He won’t come out,” Fuyumi says. “Touya’s been yelling for him, but he’s not responding. If we don’t get him out soon he’ll die. If he won’t listen to Touya, then –”

“Maybe he’ll listen to you,” Natsuo says. His expression twists. “He used to be normal. What happened to him?”

You don’t have a clue. Tenko’s alive. Somehow, some part of him – something that looks like him, or is him, or answers to his name. Tenko’s alive, and Keigo is dead, and that’s so difficult to process that your mind skips straight past it. Or tries to. Tenko is alive, and Keigo is dead because Tenko killed him, and for some reason Touya thought it was a good idea to try to burn down the Shimura house. You squeeze your eyes shut and try your hardest to compartmentalize. You can’t stop the house from burning. You can’t bring Keigo back to life. But there is someone alive in there. You can do something about that.

You get to your feet unsteadily and turn back towards the house. The top floor is in flames, light flickering behind the boarded-up windows, and although there’s smoke flooding the grounds, the lower floors of the house look clear of fire. It’s safe for you to go in. Safe enough. You duck past Touya, who’s been hollering up at the windows for Tenko to get “his creepy man-spider ass” out here, and in through the front door. And from there you have no idea what to do.

If you knew anything about who Tenko really is, you’d know where to look. The habits of doll Tenko tell you absolutely nothing. When he’s moved, or been moved, there’s no rhyme or reason to where he’s ended up – except for one time, the first time the doll ever moved from the place you left it. You climb the stairs, turn down the hall, dart past your room. The door to Tenko’s is open, the room itself trashed all over again. The only thing still in place is Mon-chan, sitting on the bed.

You grab it, in case it helps. Then you turn back to the place you found Tenko last time, and sure enough, he’s there. Right behind the door. But while doll Tenko could conceal himself perfectly in the space, the real Tenko is too tall and gangly. Even hunched in on himself with his knees drawn to his chest, there’s an elbow sticking out of the shadows in one spot, a foot sticking out in the another. His red eyes stare out blankly through the tangle of matted white hair. He’s not moving except to cough.

You’re coughing, too. It’s hard to speak. “Tenko, come on,” you say. “It’s not safe anymore. It’s time to go.”

“Dead.” His voice sounds even less human now. “They left me.”

His parents. “That doesn’t mean you have to stay here,” you say. “You don’t have to die because they did. You can come with me.”

There’s blood on Tenko’s hands, on his clothes. It’s smeared on the lower half of his face, draining from his nose and from a cut on his forehead. You pull your sleeve down over your hand, reach forward, and wipe it away, clamping down on the shiver that runs through you when he turns his head against your hand. “Come with me,” you say again, and he shakes his head. “Okay. Then move over.”

Tenko looks up, startled. “I said I didn’t want to leave you,” you say. “I meant it.”

You were wondering, all this time, if you’d know you’d finally lost your mind when it happened. The answer is yes, and the magical thing about losing your mind is that you don’t care all that much. The ex-boyfriend you were running from is dead. The house you were staying in is burning to the ground. You’ve spent the last three months taking care of a doll in a house you thought was haunted by a ghost, only to realize that everything you’ve been doing for the doll, you’ve been doing for the man it was modeled after, too. The world is upside down, twisted, backwards. Nothing and everything make sense right now.

“Either we both go,” you say, coughing harder now, “or we both stay. It’s up to you.”

You pull your hand back from wiping at his face and hold it out for him to take. He looks at it, then at you, and you wonder what he’s thinking. You wonder if he’s even scared of dying, if dying matters to something like him, whatever he is. If he really is Tenko, he’s died once before already, hasn’t he? Is it any harder to die again? Whether it is or not, Tenko doesn’t seem interested in finding out. He takes your hand, lets you pull him to his feet, and then yanks you out into the hall himself.

The air is thick and grey, and the flames are catching up, but Tenko’s fast as he drags you down the hall to the stairs. You stumble over a body at the base of them and make the mistake of looking at the face. Or what’s left of the face. Tenko doesn’t let you look for long. He pulls you past Keigo’s body to the front door and shoves you out of it – and then, before he can retreat, Natsuo and Touya seize him by his arms and yank him out after you.

The four of you tumble down the steps, landing in a heap in the driveway. Tenko is coughing, a wet, horrible sound, and while you’re able to get to your feet, he barely moves. You and the Todorokis have to drag him away from the house, down the driveway until all you can see of the house is the pillar of flames billowing up from the roof. You stop to catch your breath, and the others stop, too. You and Fuyumi, Touya and Natsuo, and Tenko sprawled on the ground between you.

It’s quiet for a second. “Wow,” Touya says to Tenko. “You’re even weirder-looking than I remember. And you reek.”

Fuyumi smacks him. Natsuo’s got bigger things to worry about. “What are we going to do with him?” he demands. “If that’s even him. If it’s some kind of monster that’s bad enough. If it’s him, he’s been dead for seventeen years – and he just killed a guy!”

“That guy was a fuckweasel,” Touya says. He glances at you. “Right?”

You don’t want to say yes. “He wasn’t a very nice guy,” you say, and Touya snorts. “I was scared of him.”

“And you’re not scared of that?” Natsuo demands.

“He’s not a that,” you say. “He’s –”

You don’t really know what. Tenko bleeds red like a human. Based on the way Tenko was yanking you around, he’s really strong. He’s so thin that he’s almost a skeleton, and he smells like he hasn’t showered in seventeen years. But whatever he is, he’s alive. That’s where you’ll start from. “He’s Tenko,” you say finally, for lack of a better way to phrase it. “I don’t know what his deal is, but I’m not scared of him right now. If I do get scared, I’ll deal with it then. I’m not leaving him here.”

“No one thinks we should do that,” Fuyumi reassures you. “We just need to think of where to put him. I know a place.”

It’s quiet for a second. “No,” Touya says suddenly. “He’s not staying at my place.”

“Just for tonight,” Fuyumi urges. “We can sneak him in now – Dad won’t be back for hours, he’ll be coming to investigate this – and clean him up before we figure out what to do with him.”

“She can stay there, too,” Natsuo says, nodding at you. “If Dad comes by, she can answer the door, and Dad will be so thrilled at the idea that you’re having straight sex that he won’t bother you for a week.”

Touya snickers at that. “Fine,” he says to Tenko. Then, to you: “You can borrow some of my clothes for him, but I’m not helping you give him a bath.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to,” you say. The idea of giving doll Tenko a bath felt so weird that you never did it. The idea of giving adult Tenko a bath is less weird but still something you aren’t looking forward to. You can hear sirens in the distance. “We should go now.”

Tenko’s semiconscious as you and the Todorokis load him into Touya’s car. Nobody wants to sit in the back with him, but someone has to, so you and Tenko have the backseat to yourself while all three Todorokis jam together up front. Tenko buckles his own seatbelt, but as soon as Touya pulls onto the main road, he unbuckles himself and crawls across the backseat towards you. You retreat, but there’s only so far you can go. “Uh –”

“Guys, he’s climbing on her!” Natsuo’s keeping an eye on you. “Leave her alone!”

Touya meets your eyes in the rearview mirror. “Need me to pull over?”

You shake your head. Tenko’s settling into the seat next to yours, and he buckles himself again before twisting sideways to face you. He looks awful, and somehow worse than that, he looks scared. You can’t tell if it’s a childish fear or not. Tenko hasn’t left his house in seventeen years – it wouldn’t surprise you if he was agoraphobic. And if you’d just left the only home you’d ever known in flames behind you, you’d be scared, too.

And you remember what Tenko said to you, after you told him what happened to your brother. He probably wasn’t talking to your brother from the beyond. But if the story Touya and the others believe about how Hana and Tenko ended up in the well is true, Tenko knows how it feels to have an older sister who tried to save him. Maybe it’s still okay for you to believe that your brother, wherever he is, feels the same way, too. Tenko didn’t have to give you that, but he did.

You open your arms slightly, and Tenko collapses forward into them, his spiderlike hands grabbing fistfuls of your shirt and hanging on tight. He’s too tall to hide his face in your shoulder, like he seems to want to do. His mouth ends up pressed against your ear instead. “I’m not a doll anymore,” he says. His voice is roughened with smoke, but there’s a softness to it, incongruous enough to make your skin crawl. “I can take care of you, too.”

It could be a child’s innocent insistence on fairness, a man’s confident assertion, a monster’s implicit threat. As Touya’s car speeds down the road, you come to the conclusion that it might be all three at once, and something more – the promise of a lover, sealed by cracked, bloody lips pressing against your cheek.

[pyjamaart]

I never needed such help / This is my SOS

(Content warning: self harm) (If you don't have a problem with that, huge Drillman essay under the read more lol)

When I said that I wanted to draw Drillman some more, this really wasn't what I had in mind.

This week, I've been shopping for music on various second hand sites, which made me realize I don't physically own one of my all time favorite albums: "Squaring The Circle" by Sneaker Pimps. I had to change that immediately. (As well as buying like 15 other CDs and vinyls, lol.) As I was listening to it once again, I realized just how much the song "SOS" reminded me of Drillman and his struggles.

If you don't want to look it up, here are some of the lyrics:

"I look much smaller seen from inside out/Far too small to see myself/Down on reflection, cast in hate and in doubt/Flawed and flaws I add myself"

"Oh mirror mirror hanging on the wall/Please just show me someone else/My hopes were low and I got so much so less/Nothing left to save myself"

Listen, this dude got some major problems with his self esteem. He feels like an embarrassment because he was forced into a life he never wanted by his father. Now he seeks revenge on the company that bought his families business, along with him and apparently his bodily autonomy. Think about that for a minute. How fucked would it be if your parents wanted you to be a doctor, but a requirement for that would be to have your hand surgically removed and replaced with a scalpel. That's the exact situation Drillman found himself in.

Now a lot of people probably think "Well why doesn't he just ask Dr. Light to give him a new pair of hands then, if he's this miserable?" This is where we get to one of Drillmans biggest problems: the refusal to ask for help in any way. And even after the finale of the season, why would he go to the Lights for help in the first place? Wasn't it Aki who thought the best way to help him through his problems was hypnotism? And in the process embarrassing him in front of the whole city, ruining the last bit of reputation he may have had? (For real though, that episode is so hard for me to watch. I just feel so so bad for him, since I really struggle with social anxiety myself.)

As the guys from the Youtube channel "The D-Pad" (who reviewed all of the MMFC episodes) fittingly commented: "This would be like fucking Vietnam for him." And they were right. Obviously, Drillman is horrified that Aki would humiliate him like this and lashes out, solidifying his opinion that asking for help is a bad idea.

In that episode, there's this one moment that really stuck with me. At around the 8 minute mark, while Drillman is having a breakdown over the terrible "music" Aki made him perform, there's this one shot where he takes a moment to look at the drills that replaced his hands in frustration. The camera perspective makes it seem as if we are experiencing this brief scene through his eyes. It's actually quite upsetting. (A link to the moment I'm talking about: youtu.be/OC_jdhoeTrE?si=ZPzAXu…)

This is also a perfect moment for me to gush over the voice acting for this scene. Andrew McNee did such a fantastic job of conveying Drillmans distress and anger through his voice. That reminds me, giving him a British accent was honestly such a good decision.

The reason he doesn't talk at all throughout most of his first appearance is probably because the writers wanted to surprise their audience a little. As in, you see this big, imposing construction robot and think "Oh man, what a brute. He probably has a pretty deep voice." And then he actually starts to speak and it's this sophisticated, well-articulated British voice instead. Quite the whiplash.

To get back to the original topic, I'm honestly still upset that they didn't give Drillman a redemption arc at the end of the show. This probably would have happened in season 2, as Mega Man even says at some point "I know deep down your inner bits are good", proving to me that the writers definitely had something in mind regarding Drillmans character arc.

And now that all of that is out of the way, we can finally get into headcanon territory.

You might have seen this image while browsing the tags and asked yourself, "Why is this Mega Man Fully Charged artwork littered with content warnings?" And well, now that you're here and reading this, you probably know why. I can't say I've ever made myself sick with a drawing before. That's a first for me.

My headcanon is, that after the finale of the show, Drillman is just utterly lost. Lord Obsidian, who sought him out specifically because he knew of Drillmans problems and offered him a place to stay and a way to get revenge on the people he thought responsible for his predicament, turned out to be a horribly racist human who was just using him to achieve his own devious goals. After getting his ass kicked by the Lights, the same people who had not only humiliated him in front of the whole city, but who had also left him stuck to his abusive father for an entire day (I bet that ride to the police station was horrible for all the people involved, most of all the police bots who had to hear the Drillmen yell at each other the whole time), Sgt. Night is detained by the police. We don't actually see what happens after that, because that's where the show ends.

I'd like to think that the Lights actually try to talk to the robot masters once everything is over, telling them all the horrible things their so-called "leader" has said and done. And most importantly, what he thinks of robots: That they're nothing but tools to him. That once they had gotten him his Mega key, he would have wiped their minds and turned them into mindless machines.  

I'm guessing none of the robot masters would take these news well, but most of all Drillman. I think that after he ran away from Skyraisers Inc. and fought Mega Man for the first time, he was really relieved to have some place to stay and a new goal, maybe even a robot to look up to. That being Lord Obsidian of course. Who knows what lies he told Drillman and the others? Kinda sad that we never really got to see what the robot masters who stayed with Lord Obsidian did the entire day. When they weren't causing havoc in the city, that is.

None of them seemed really friendly with each other in the finale, now that I think about it. I guess "Obsidians robot sanctuary" wasn't really a great place to stay at after all. But still better than being homeless, like that one maniac living in the forest all by himself. Speaking of Woodman, in my AU, he and Drillman already knew each other at this point. This also reminds me of something I forgot to mention in my last post. While I'd love to see them interact in any way, because they're both my favorite characters, I don't ship them in any way whatsoever. I'd also like to think that Woodman and Drillmans father were schoolmates back in the day, maybe even friends? (I'm still holding onto those 30 years).

Anyway, after all the former robot comrades part ways, now without a leader, what was Drillman supposed to do? Once again betrayed by a trusted figure, feeling useless and without purpose, still with these stupid drills mounted to his body... Still too ashamed to ask for help. After all that has happened in the past few hours he begins spiraling, which ultimately leads him to make a very unfortunate decision. Trying to get at least some of the freedom in his life back, he attempts to get rid of the drills making up his body on his own, using the same tools that have haunted him all this time to finally rid himself of this burden.

He regrets this just seconds after, when he's left with an unresponsive limb, metal and wires exposed and oil splattered all over his orange plating. All he can do is stare at the stained drill in front of him in horror.

"I never needed such help/This is my SOS"

Jesus Christ that got dark. Sorry. I mentioned in my last post that Drillman possibly has really bad body dysmorphia, which I'm also trying to convey here. Don't worry, he really gets his hands back after this. Maybe the Lights find him after that and the good Doctor offers to fix him up. By which I mean not only his arm. Because apparently, Dr. Light also doubles as robot psychologist. I just really need Drillman to get his happy ending. He really really deserves it after everything he had to go trough over the course of the show. 

I also need him to have a DJing redemption, besides the normal redemption. I've seen people headcanon that he exclusively likes classical music, but I personally don't believe that. He'd be the kind of music nerd who would say stuff like "I listen to everything" and then you look at his playlists and he actually listens to everything. Maybe not experimental noise rock, though. I can just imagine Aki and Suna helping him put on an actual show, this time without any hypnotizing bullshit, as a way for Aki to apologize for the dread he's caused Drillman during that incident. Drillman would be highly suspicious at first, but actually goes along with it in the end. Maybe they'd also take Fireman along, who Dr. Light also blessed with a brand new pair of hands. The punchline at the end would be that Drillman would have so much anxiety about embarrassing himself again, that he forgets to make an actual set list for the gig. In the end, he exclusively plays Lady Gaga songs, which no one complains about.

Alright then, enough yapping from me. I've really been writing this essay since 8pm. And now it's 2am. My god. I just have a lot of feelings about Drillman.

But now I really gotta go to bed. Stay safe peeps. I hope you actually read the content warnings. Jenny out.

[my-mt-heart]

“The Book of Carol” Teaser

Well, that was some serious whiplash yesterday. Totally not suspicious. Not suspicious at all. I'm still uneasy about the show's leadership, but the teaser is by far the best reassurance we've gotten in a long while and Caryl fans are happier than I've seen them in over a year, so I'll take it. Hopefully we can expect exciting content like this to roll out consistently until S2 airs, but in the meantime, here are my thoughts on what we have...

Daryl's opening VO, "I dunno know if this is the place I'm supposed to be," is actually a line from the leaked 201 sides. In them, Daryl has a conversation with Isabelle, the details of which I'll discuss sometime after the finale airs, but what's relevant here is that it juxtaposes Daryl's conversation with Carol in Find Me. Whereas Daryl insists in the cabin that he does know where he's "supposed to be," implying that he belongs with Carol, something isn't feeling right about France or the "surrogate family" (🙄) the teaser immediately cuts to after that line. I don't know the context of the next lines of VO, "I've been thinking about all the people I left behind, wondering if they're still thinking about me," and I'm not entirely sure why Daryl assumes Carol may have moved on (need I remind you of the lunch date in S11), but obviously he's homesick. And, thanks to that very unambiguous tagline, we understand why. Daryl and Carol are each other’s home. They need each other to be happy.

Needless to say, Melissa is so good in this. She doesn't need gimmicks or anything artsy to make her performance stand out. Carol's agony over Daryl is right there in her eyes, her determination to find him clear in her voice. I especially love her soft "yes" to the man I suspect will accompany her to France (you can see his reflection in the rearview mirror when Carol is in the car surrounded by walkers). He seems reluctant to take up a cause he isn't emotionally invested in, meaning he doesn't know if he wants to embark on what's bound to be a long, dangerous journey for someone he hasn't met i.e. Daryl. So basically, he's asking Carol if she would do it if she was in his position and she assures him that she would. The dialogue is a bit convoluted to stick in a teaser, but the takeaway is supposed to be that Carol will do anything to find Daryl if there's hope he's still alive. Because, of course she would. Daryl should know that, just like Carol should know he'd worry about her even if she told him not to. They love each other. They told each other they love each other. These two have a lot of insecurities to sort out when they finally reunite, and I hope we get to watch those deep conversations take place when they aren't making out.

Carol riding Daryl's bike and carrying his crossbow are nostalgic, the first reminding me of when Daryl rode out of the Commonwealth in the series finale only this time I'm not fighting the urge to hurl something at the TV. I'm actually cheering Carol on as she sets off to find him and hopefully give him a stern talking to (I let you go on our road trip alone and you end up in France??) The second is reminiscent of No Sanctuary when she finds his crossbow at Terminus, and we all know where that led. The question is how will this reunion top it? Hint: there's only one right answer.

I wonder if collecting pieces of him keeps her grounded along the way, similar to how Dog became her connecting point after she and Daryl had their big fight in Find Me/Diverged. I'd ideally like to see flashbacks of Daryl teaching Carol how to ride and/or how to use the crossbow since it's never been established that she can do either. My expectations aren't high unfortunately because history tells me TWDU loves to take shortcuts. That was particularly the case in S11 as far as Caryl were concerned. If that continues though, it's going to be a major issue for me. Don't just toss out gimmicks you think will get us talking for a bit. Don't leave out the connective tissue. Earn what you want to show us.

The title screen is an eyesore. For one thing, there are way too many fonts and for another, "Daryl Dixon" is the larger text despite the season centering on Carol. Like I said yesterday, Melissa and Norman are on equal footing. That is confirmed, but visuals like this give the appearance that Melissa/Carol carry less weight than Norman/Daryl which is complete bullshit. The original spinoff was going to be hers just as much as it was his, so why wouldn't that be the case now? That's a rhetorical question because I know the answer. It'd be really nice if AMC stopped punishing Melissa and her fans for their mistakes last year.

But to end on a positive note (I was doing so well, wasn't I?), the teaser is a good sign for Carol's/Caryl's story, and I'm excited about S2 again. With some help, I'll be keeping a close watch on how the season is marketed going forward. If the whiplash continues, if EPs keep insulting their audience, well…why stick around for it 🤷🏻‍♀️ But if hints such as that tagline persist or ramp up, we might actually be headed for explicit canon 👍🙏❤️

(I see my inbox is about to explode. I'll get to what I can tonight).

[iamveronica]

My Marrissey Musings

Moz is a lying liar but in a good way, in a way that keeps you on your toes and gives you whiplash. he had once described Johnny as "schizophrenic"(*) with regard to his sentiments towards the Smiths which is rather rich coming from Moz because no one's yo-yoed as intensely as he has what i got from Autobiography and from the open letter is Moz hates to see Johnny weaponized against him in the book, it was the legal team, Joyce and Rourke, the judge, everyone and anyone, that he blamed for using Johnny against him during the Smiths trial(*). in the open letter, it's the media. the letter wasn't so much "don't talk about me" as "don't let them play you" between "I was discovered by Johnny, the guitarist, who came and unearthed me one day (0:25)... he found me, I was just there, dying, and he rescued me" (0:52) and Angel Angel Down We Go Together, i feel like TO THIS DAY Moz harbours a saviour complex towards Johnny, like he feels he owes him that i think, in his mind, Moz has been quite magnanimous towards Johnny yet the littlest perceived slight attributed to Marr gets magnified in his mind to ridiculous proportions such as "Morrissey is a bad smell in the attic", "Morrissey is a death-machine"(*), "an eyesore monster"(**). classic Morrissey language if Moz has truly moved on, would the January 2022 open letter to Johnny Marr exist? some people ask 'why didn't he address it to the press?' or 'why didn't he contact Johnny privately?' well, obviously, Moz cares little about tabloids as a whole but it must cut him deep to see Johnny used against him. asking Johnny privately would put the burden on Johnny to reject the topic so Moz did what he thought best and wedged himself between Johnny and the media. should he be applauded for it or was it as clumsy as could be? In my own sick way / I'll always stay true to you as much as i'd like a Moz and Marr public reconciliation, stuff like the open letter makes me think that perhaps things are as raw, unresolved and unworked out as they were 35 years ago

A week later his Mercedes pulls up outside my mother’s house and we are both briefly united. Behind the wheel, he makes for Saddleworth Moor, and the social unit slots back together again. ‘You really don’t know the full story of what happened at the end, do you?’ Johnny asks me as rain whacks the window screen. If anyone has a right to raise their voice, it is me. So I do. ‘I know NOTHING!!!’ I shout. Does anyone go to war and win? No. ... The seething rot that had shot the Smiths down remained undisclosed by Johnny on this drive to Saddleworth Moor (oh, Saddleworth Moor, so much to answer for)...

(*) In months to come, Johnny will appear on television several times under scorching lights. He struggles with the truth, half-forgetting, he says he split the Smiths up, and then in a later television spot he says he did no such thing. Johnny spits out my name, changing his story as he shifts from foot to foot; he says he had no idea, and then he says he fully intended to ‘move on’. Always saying too much, something has happened to Johnny once again, and each appearance gives an entirely different account. He no longer listens to the Smiths’ music and he criticizes it. Morrissey is a bad smell in the attic. Morrissey is a death-machine. Morrissey is evil and should be stuffed. But as Johnny spouts he looks all wrong. His clothes are crooked and the eyes are in torment. What had happened since the serenity of our drive to Saddleworth Moor, when the coffin-lid shifted and the old spark rose like a small miracle? Someone, by now, is preparing to save Johnny’s soul as the nightmare of the Joyce Case flexes itself in readiness. The petty guidance of advisors are grooming Johnny for his upcoming role as sacrificial lamb – always a hit with judges who demand subservience above truth. Darting schizophrenically in the pursuit of self-interest, Johnny now looks pale on the scaffold – the opportunism of wolves giving him a notably punished look. Revenge is calling, and I am the quarry. (**) You found me inspirational enough to make music with me for 6 years. If I was, as you claim, such an eyesore monster, where exactly did this leave you? Kidnapped? Mute? Chained? Abducted by cross-eyed extraterrestrials?

[spandexspangles]

Y'all I had the most surreal unsolicited fundraising call today. No, sorry, it was two calls. I'll explain.

I was at work a little after it opened, off the clock, having just finished talking to an acquaintance about a potential partnership event. It is very chill, with just 7 other people near me. My phone rings, I step away for a moment to answer. As one does. Guy starts talking real chummy, sounds like a politico. And the thing is, my work hosts fundraisers for politicos sometimes (including this week!) and so I'm thinking it's someone calling about that for a second, and then he says "will you help us on our mission to make America great again?"

Screeeeeeeeeeech. Surely not.

Me: I'm sorry, who is this?

Dude: oh. [Annoyed pause, followed by cheerful yet menacing robot voice] This is Name, and I'm calling you because we want to thank you for your upcoming donation. I see in the past you've donated $500 to the cause of patriotism-

Me, briefly worried that maybe my bank had been hacked but then remembered I'm poor, so would have definitely noticed $500 leaving my account: Wait, what?

Douche, VERY snippily: Excuse me, I'm speaking.

Me: WHAT. [Laugh] Did you just chastise me for interrupting your pitch begging me for money, for the FUCKING Republican party??

*At this point, it's worth mentioning that I work in a queer bar. So seven heads whiplash in my direction upon hearing these words*

Broheim: It's incredibly rude to swear! 😠😠

Me, just barely not laughing: I don't give a good flying fuck what you think is rude, I hope you die. Go fuck yourself.

Butthurt: garbled noises that I didn't quite catch because I hung up on him.

So, funny enough, right? I walk back to everyone, but not 20 seconds later, my phone RINGS AGAIN. SAME! NUMBER! Everyone yells at me to answer it. I oblige.

Me, using my aggressively chipper/ditzy voice that I will use for the entirety of this convo: ✨️Hello? ✨️

Gross dude: So we maybe got disconnected before, I'm sure you just drove through a tunnel.

Me: Oh! Nope! I hung up on you. 🥰 [Puts phone on speaker, in accordance with the frantic handwaving of my coworkers]

Determined guy: Well you said some very rude things to me. And I do apologize for saying you should go put in a tampon. But in my defense you'd wished me dead, so that's fair.

*Everyone including me just drops their fucking jaw. Apparently, that's what the garbled noises were as I was hanging up on him. I don't think I've heard that used as an insult in real life since like, the 90s? Deep cut.*

Me, maliciously and immediately determined to fuck with him even more: Oh, I didn't mean YOU! 😇 ...I meant your entire political party. But I could see how you'd misunderstand. I'll be super duper glad when y'all just fade away. 💖

Fundraising oaf: so I'm calling today to encourage you, as a patriot, to keep Kamiiiila Harris out of the White House-

Me: oof, that's embarrassing. She's the Vice-President and you don't know how to pronounce her name? Come on, sugar pie, that's just silly.

Broseph: I know how to say her name! 😡

Me: Hey so I wanted to ask- is this like, an effective fundraising technique for you? Like you call someone, scold them, say shitty misogynistic things to them, get hung up on, call BACK, be rude some more, and then, what, they give you money? Like how many donations have you got doing that?

Slimeboi: We believe it's important to be our authentic selves! 🤡

Me: ...so none then.

Guy who is starting to regret his choices: ...This election is the most important one ever! The Democrats have done a terrible job with-

Me: Oh I agree!

Dumbfuck: Really?

Me: Absolutely! They need to do a way better job at not being spineless and actually get back to proper progressive valu-

Idiot: The criminal Democrats are going to destroy the country! 😤😤😤

Me, speaking over him: You're begging for money for a guy who tried to overthrow the government. And he's a convicted felon!

*I cannot emphasize enough that while I have been quoting more or less verbatim in this recap, the following line is EXACTLY WHAT HE SAID*

Simp: I'd rather vote for a felon with a heart of gold than a-

I desperately wish that I knew what he called Harris just then, but alas, that was the moment wherein I and the people surrounding me lost our collective minds and started howling with laughter.

Between gasping for air, I told him to have the day he deserved, and hung up on him. We waited to see if he would call a third time. Alas, no. I am so, SO glad this happened in front of people, because I would have assumed that I'd hallucinated it. My manager asked if I was going to call and report him. Absolutely no way. I want that guy doing all their fundraising calls.

[marlair]

Could you please write about first years x really tall reader who is above 6 feet? I'm talking 6'4 - 6'8 🙏🙏🙏 love your writings sm <3

he needs some milk

syn. in which you humble the NRC first years with sheer power (height).

gn!yuu

ACE TRAPPOLA

he’d probably invite you to the basketball club. sorry but i’m right, i’m the writer here. he would.

if you did join, good for you! you can enjoy your time together. kinda.

if you didn’t, though, i’m sorry for you- because this man will literally ask you everyday. 

outside of that though, he’s—

actually, he’s still not that good.

Ace would say he’s a fair person. He doesn’t do anything wrong, he was never rude; honestly? He’s sure he’s a saint.

You, carrying him on your shoulders, would like to say otherwise.

“Uhm, Ace,” you start, sighing exasperatedly before you continue, “why the heck are you on my shoulders? And why do we need to beat up Deuce?”

Ace scoffs haughtily at you, waving his shoulders and causing you to waver a bit, you weren’t really made for carrying others. 

“I’m on your shoulders because we need to beat up Deuce. We’re gonna intimidate him.” The redhead responds, as if anything he said makes sense.

“Ace, what the hell.”

DEUCE SPADE

he’s pretty normal about it. perchance. maybe not.

he probably also assumes you’re good at sports. long legs do have that effect on most people, i guess.

it’s not like he’s a short guy, so he doesn’t really need your help with anything.

he likes to think he doesn’t really care about your height, but you know otherwise.

it’s not like the dude would make fun of you— unlike a certain someone—, so you don’t really have to worry.

You find it kinda funny how Deuce always tries to look like he doesn’t have to crane his neck up to see your face. 

Scratch that, it’s really funny. He’s looking up, but his eyes are kinda looking down. What, is he trying to convince himself there isn’t a difference or something?

Actually, yeah, sounds about right.

Another thing you find funny is the fact that somehow, even with your towering height, Deuce is more intimidating than you. It’s not like you really put any effort into being scary, but it was just a little offensive! 

JACK HOWL

the poor guy experiences culture shock. lol.

he’s been the taller person for, like, most of his life.

imagine his shock when seeing you, a— sorry— rather plain human, being taller. by more than just a little bit.

imagine his shock when he lends his clothes to you, and they don’t even look that big! (unless you’re on the lanky, idia shroud side of tall. but still).

other than a mild and short-lived shock, he just doesn’t really care.

doesn’t seem like the kinda guy to.

you two, together, though? killer combo.

“Uhm.. We said we’re sorry—” the brown-haired 3rd year said, backing up slowly while the two second years behind him quivered— which was funny considering their rugged appearances.

But like, if two people who were well over 6 feet tall just walked up to you in the middle of lunch, demanding you “give grim back his chicken sandwich”, wouldn’t you be pretty scared?!

They didn’t even take it—

“Uhm,” the dark purple haired 2nd year hiding behind the 3rd year squeaks out (sounding very weird considering his deep voice), “I took it. I apologize!”

Oh!

…

All this, and for a literal chicken sandwich that was, what, 15 madol? That isn’t even expensive!

EPEL FELMIER

i’d like to apologize to epel in advance because it would actually look so hilarious to see you two together.

it’d be even funnier if, between the two of you, you were the calmer one. 

if you were the babygirl, so to speak.

there’s not much more to say than that the whiplash seeing you two together could kill a small cat.

When you think of a short student in NRC, the first person that usually comes to mind is Epel Felmier.

The boy in question doesn’t appreciate that.

And when you think of a tall student in NRC— well, a lot come to mind but one of the few most prominent is the Ramshackle prefect.

The prefect in question doesn’t really care.

And therein lies the issue. You don’t care about who is tall and who isn’t, but Epel does care. Very much so.

He eventually learns to be fine with being seen around you, though, even if it does mean his own height comes in comparison with yours.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

a ‘weak human’.. being around his height? or taller?

culture shock 2.0. i feel so bad for him.

if he were any lesser person, he’d have attempted to recruit you to be a knight.

you’re a weak human, though, so he didn’t. 🤗

be grateful!

are you taller than malleus? you are, right? terrifying.

sebek would ask you to shrink.. sorry, but it’s true.

“WEAK HUMAN!” and just like that, your ears are broken. You don’t even know how you handle him screaming at this volume all the time. You’re dying, Lilia, help.

You look down (scary stuff) to meet his eyes, and he immediately starts talking.

“I’VE NOTICED—“

“Shh, keep it down.”

“Ahem, I’ve noticed that you are taller than the Young Master, so, I humbly request you shrink!”

…

Man, what the fuck.

[angelwishess]

𐙚 Rambling about Marven & Evelio !!

I might draw these sometime !! Who knows !!

Marven and Evelio used to lock themselves in their room to practice being in sync. And also discuss how they could look more alike (they considered using magic)

^^ literally CRIED to their parents abt not being identical twins. They wanted to be identical SO BAD LMAOO

Evelio is a bookworm, while Marven is more into comics. They both update eachother with the plot of their respective books regularly

“EVI. U WILL NOT BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED TO CAPTAIN MUSCLEMAN AND MISTER MUSTACHE.”

“Omg what happened 😮😮”

Both like to make up stories and are great liars.

I cant stress this enough their personalities r very inspired by Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum HEHEHE

Evelio is more scary than Marven HAHAHAHA

As Kyra is a successful fashion designer in the future, she has a fashion line of clothes all based on Evelio and Marven’s personal styles :33 Kyra loves spoiling her boys <33

Evelio started wearing ribbons because he saw his mama wearing them and thought they were pretty teehee

Evelio is also an adrenaline junkie. Actually they probably both are. The influence of a mother is strong.

Evelio liked to follow around Floyd all the time as a kid … Thought he was the coolest ever and Floyd takes so much pride in it

Both of them are also trained in self defense, and Evelio has the CRAZIEST sleeper build ever

Both of them have tried to sneak in wild animals into their dorm. They succeeded afew times but always get caught. Staff still doesnt know where they found a bear cub.

Originally, they were seperated into different dorms. They absolutely did not like this, and Marven immediately transferred to Pomfiore to be with Evelio. (He was in Savannaclaw originally :3)(Rook Hunt wannabe)

Marven calls with their mom almost every day. Hes def the kind to scold her when she doesnt tell him where she went LMAOO clingy ass kid

^^ fought w Floyd as a kid for her affection

They like to talk in a way that doesnt make sense to other people js to mess with them HAHAHA

Evelio looks like a girl, but has a pretty deep voice at the same time. So he gives everyone whiplash when they talk to him LMAO

Marven is the more emotional twin if u couldnt tell already, Evelio is a jerk /j

[hotwings0203]

I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.

Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?

In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.

But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.

Or so he tells himself.

“Slut”

“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”

It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him

“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”

Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.

“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”

It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.

“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”

But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.

He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.

You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.

The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.

You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.

He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.

It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.

But then, he speaks.

“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”

His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.

“No.”

“Oh.”

This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.

Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.

“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.

He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.

A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.

You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.

It drives Dabi crazy.

He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.

But your silence is something he’s not used to.

Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.

You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.

You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.

So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.

“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”

Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.

“And Dabi?”

“What about him?”

She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”

“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”

“He likes you.”

You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.

“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”

The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.

“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”

You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.

“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”

“You’re joking.”

“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”

No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.

You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.

“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”

“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”

“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.

“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”

Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.

“Why not just tell him how you feel?”

You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”

“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”

And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.

You were fucked.

And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.

“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.

You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.

No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.

He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.

“After you.”

You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.

A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.

Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.

You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.

“So, what did you wanna talk about?”

He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.

“Dabi.”

“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”

He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.

You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned

“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“

“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”

In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.

But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.

So he does exactly what one does as a villain.

Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”

You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.

“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”

You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”

Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.

He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.

So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.

Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.

You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.

He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.

Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.

“Dabi, wait, please stop-“

But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.

“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”

He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .

Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.

But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.

You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.

And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .

[6lackfiction]

A Little Jealous

Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Sex Acts, 18+

Plot: You finally meet Chris’ friends but he doesn’t like it when you start to flirty with one of them, he wants to punish you and he does. 

“You’re shaking” he clasped your hands holding them tight “don’t be nervous they’ll love you I promise”

You sighed looking up at him, he kept saying that to you throughout the day and a part of you doubted it, meeting your boyfriend’s friends is terrifying and you were afraid that they wouldn’t like you but you didn’t want to back out now after seeing him so happy when you agreed to join him “Ok you’re right, let’s just get this over with”

“That’s the spirit” he chucked as he climbed out of the car and came round to your side.

He held your hand firmly as you approached the home, you noticed how insanely big it was and before either of you were at the from door you heard the sound of the music booming which eased you a lot and you were secretly grateful for

“God he said it wasn’t a party” he groaned, thumping his fist against the door. After he reached to open the front door which was already unlocked.

“Joe you said a small gathering!” He yelled into the house over the music when his eyes landed on his friend.

“You know me, I can’t help it” he stretched his arms out giving Chris a bear hug, he moved to the living room and gestured with his head for you and Chris to follow him

“CHRIS!” Bellowed the group of people in the living room, Chris took you around the room where there were a chorus of greetings from his friends who then quickly went back to their own conversations.

“She’s a little nervous” Chris pointed to you when he noticed you weren’t making conversation with the last of his friends he was introducing you to.

You tossed him a disapproving look, mortified because you weren’t a conversationalist like Chris and that always made you self conscious.

“I doubt it, it’s probably just because you talk so much and no one can get a word in edgewise” one of the women remarked making the others laughs and you joined in leaning into him teasing.

“Come sit with us” she patted the couch “before he chews your ear off about some sports stuff”

Chris scoffed, rolled his eyes and stormed off leaving you all laughing again and taking the seat that was offered to you.

His friends were nice and funny, they sensed your nerves and instead of asking you questions about your personal life you all talked about the one thing you had in common which was Chris. You occasionally glanced back at him where you saw him eyeing you carefully and giving him a small smile letting him know you were ok.

You sat back for the most part listening to all their childhood stories and you thought about what Chris must have been like when he was younger. They argued after having realised they had different version of the same events, you envied how close they all were and the amount of memories they shared. A few left the couch to get some drinks including the woman who offered you a drink and you were then left alone with his friend Mike.

Mike was hilarious, you got lost in conversation with him, he was so charming and flirtatious something you always liked in people. He had you cracking up most of the night telling you stories about times where Chris’ sister had convinced him to wear a dress and some makeup. You burst out laughing brushing you hand against his as your body shook with laughter.

“What are you guys talking about?” You jumped when you felt Chris sidle up next to you eager to know what you both were laughing at. He pulled you hand back from where it lay on Mike’s knee and held it in his hand firmly.

“You” you said in union, looking at each other and falling back in laughter

“We should probably get going, it’s late” he whispered in your ear squeezing your hand

“No, no we’re having so much fun” you gave him pleading eyes

“Yeah come on Chris, let your girlfriend hang out with me” he flashed his brows at him, smirking.

“We’re going” Chris stated tugging at your hand and pulling you up from the couch.

If you had any amount of strength you would have resisted him but Chris was way stronger than you, he might as well have picked you up. You waved your good-byes to his friends that were scattered all around the house and when you turned to wave good-bye to Mike he had pulled you away so fast you thought you were going to get whiplash.

“Jesus Chris, slow down” you breathed

“What so you can flirt with Mike more”

You almost didn’t hear it but when you did you stood still a few metres away from the car and when he noticed you weren’t moving he turned to you throwing his hands up in the air and furrowing his brows at you.

“Flirting with him?”

“Yeah, I saw the way you were laughing with him!” he spat bitterly, his voice echoing into the night air

You slapped you hand to your mouth but not before a small chuckle escaped

“You think this is funny” he moved to you

“No?” You snorted, a small grin flashing across your face.

He scoffed heading back to the car and you quickly followed him climbing into the passenger seat.

“Chris… honey I’m sorry” you put your hand over his “I’m not laughing I swear”

He started the car, keeping his eyes glued to the road and giving you the cold shoulder. The entire car ride Chris never said a word to you, never glanced at you and really committed to this silent treatment. You just couldn’t believe how jealous and it was a side of him you’d never seen yet and it kind of turned you on. He got possessive and annoyed just at the sight of seeing you getting along with his friend, something he wanted you to do you thought.

As soon as he turned the car into the drive, he still made no attempts to talk to you, just parking the car and getting out of the car.

“Seriously Chris” you narrowed your eyes following him into the house

He headed for the living room throwing himself on the couch and staring up at the couch, he sat up rubbing his head with his hands. You leaned against the door frame watching his movements for a few minutes before moving to pour yourself a glass of scotch and doing the same for him. You set it down on the coffee table in front of him and took a seat beside him, you planted a kiss quickly on his cheek before he could pull his head back.

“You’re really not talking to me” you spoke softly

When he didn’t respond or even look at you, you took that as your clue to leave, finding his behaviour really annoying and slamming your glass to the table you stormed out of the room. Usually you would stay up and wait for him to come to bed before you drifted off to sleep but you were so filled with anger the idea of sleeping next to him almost made you blood boil.

How dare you think you’d flirt with someone else, it’s not like he wasn’t a flirt and hated the attention he got from women. But you never brought it up and felt some type of way about it, you were pacing the bedroom stripping off your clothes and letting them drop to the ground before you crawled into bed. You soon drifted off to sleep despite all the anger and even when you felt the weight shift on his side of the bed.

//

You woke first groggy then letting your senses come back to you, you sigh a deep breath stretching out any tension as the memory of last night flooded you. You turn to your right remembering how he had the nerve to even sleep in bed with you last night and you yank the covers to your side deliberately depriving him of any warmth before getting out of bed in a fit.

You made as much sound as you possibly could, slamming the bathroom door, opening up the drawers loudly and shutting them again, stomping throughout the bedroom hoping all the noise would annoy him and disrupt his sleep. You watch him stir in his sleep slowly waking up and you left the room but not before slamming the bedroom door.

You roamed around the kitchen, pacing lightly, you tried not to be bothered by his behaviour but it was hard. You never thought of Chris as a jealous man and he never showed any jealousy like that before. You wondered if it was some red flag that you missed over the years you’d been dating, maybe the signs were always there and you never paid any attention to it. Something about it didn’t sit well with you and you leaned on the counter mulling it over, he ignored you from the moment you were in the car till you went to bed. That was so unusual, Chris hated going to bed angry so you knew that this must have really gotten to him.

You felt yourself getting annoyed again, did he really think you were flirty or would even think about cheating on him. What did that say about how he felt about you and how he saw you.

“You should learn to be more quiet” he grumbled brushing past you

You didn’t notice that he was even in the kitchen till his voice pulled you out of your thoughts

“Huh” you turned to him

“It was rude, I was sleeping”

“Oh I’m sorry, am I supposed to care” you were being petty for sure and didn’t care about it, he deserved it.

He glared at you flaring his nostrils “don’t piss me off”

“Or what, you’re gonna stop talking to me again. Oh I’m so scared” you mocked

He set down his cup of coffee and slowly approached you “you don’t wanna see what I’ll do”

The little flash of anger in his eyes let you know he was serious, you had gotten under his skin.

“What if I do?” you glared at him playfully

He took a few more steps to you until he had backed you to the counter and pressed himself against you. He gave you a smirk, bending down to kiss and lick your neck softly, he wrapped his arms around your middle pulling you to him sharply.

“Chris you can’t just-“

“What? Touch you” he dipped his head to you neck again sucking gently “I’ll do what I want” His hands slid to your thigh slowly reaching under your robe. “And what I want…” he trailed kisses along you jawline before capturing your lips “is you”.

He was gentle with you at first which had you thinking he wasn’t angry at you anymore before his hand snaked up to cup your skull, pulling your head back so you locked eyes with him. You gasped at the pressure and watched as that anger flooded his eyes again only for it to be replaced with arousal quickly. His loosened his grip and his hand slid down to your throat, your eyes widened as you waited for him to apply pressure but he never did. Instead he watched and felt you whimper against him nervous but you were also getting restless wanting more from him.

“I don’t like seeing you with other men” he gripped your hips harshly “You’re mine and only mine. Do you understand?”

You moaned your response but it didn’t satisfy him, his grip around your throat tightened

“Do you understand?” He asked again

“Yes…yes” you chocked out

He narrowed his eyes “I don’t believe you” He grabbed your waist quickly bending you over the counter. He pushed his pelvis into you and you let out a soft moan feeling his hard cock against you. He leaned into you , whispering in your ear “I think I need to show you”. You couldn’t see his face, only feel him touch all over you body, his warm breath against your ear and him getting harder the more you twisted your hips against him.

“I need to show you who you belong to” his voice rasped as you heard him unbuckling his belt, your breath hitched when the belt hit the floor and the clang rang through silent kitchen. He hiked up your robe so it fell bundled just above your ass, he ran his hand up from your thigh and soft moan escaped your lips.

“You see how wet you are” he slipped his finger inside you, you jerked arching your back as he crooked his finger hitting that spot you loved so much. You bucked your hips slowly with his pace reaching forward to grasp whatever you could to steady yourself. You were getting restless, desperate but he was having fun teasing you.

You groaned feeling his shaft slide up and down your slit. When he moved away you whimpered and whined at the loss aching for him. He teased your hole making sure to line his cock up nicely with you pussy, he waited moments before slamming into you without warning.

“Oh fuck” you cried out as he pounded into you more and more. His thrusts were rough, violent like he was trying to ravage you right there in the kitchen. While you tried your best to keep up with him, every time the tip of his cock hit your cervix you gasped and winced with both pleasure and pain.

The way he thrust into you told you he wanted you to scream him name loudly, it made it difficult for you to stay upright. He bent over you interlocking his fingers with you keeping you in place as he pushed in and out of you picking up the pace again. You felt his breath near your ear again and it drove you insane hearing him breathing heavily. You squeezed your pussy around his cock making his lightly gasp and then thrust into you harshly as punishment.

“Are you misbehaving again” he rasped against your ear, plunging into you harder. “God, you’re so fucking tight”, his lips latched on to your neck as his hands roamed your body.

Soon his hand went to your throat squeezing harshly, you knees started to buckle and all you fell from your lips were moans.

“I wanna hear you, tell me who you belong to” he panted heavily

“It-it’s you, I-i belong to you” you stuttered

“That’s right” he thrust into you burying himself deep inside you “you” he pulled back out teasing your hole “belong” he slowly pushed into you making you exhale deeply “to me” you let out a quiet low moan nearing your release at his words.

You knew he was close too as he movements became staggered, he was trying his best to hold on but it was growing to be difficult for him. You bucked madly crying out loudly, you wanted your release, you needed it.

“Yes, yes god yes” you chanted as you grew close

He pounded into you violently now grunting heavily with every thrust, he gripped you hips then moved his feet to spread your legs as best as far as you’d let him. You tightened around him, you cries bouncing off the walls. You screwed your eyes shut, reaching you hands back to feel for him, worried he’d move and leave you like this.

“Fuck” he grunted loudly still thrusting into you as you body trembled and shook from your orgasm. You yelled slamming you hands to the counter holding on for dear life as you hit your climax. You legs shook and bent inwards as you tried to close them but he didn’t let you. He held them apart still working towards his orgasm.

“Chris-“ you begged

“I’m not done with you yet” he pounded into you a few more times, giving you long strokes before he bent over you his orgasm building quickly. He was buried deep inside you and he was overcome quickly with pleasure. He let go of your legs letting you close them but still staying inside you. He reached up his head resting in the crook of your neck trialing kisses along your shoulder.

You both panted heavily and you struggled to form a deep breath as his body weighed heavy above you. He reached around giving you clit a flick making  gasp beneath him, you were so sensitive to his touch. He slowly moved of you and you dared not move yourself letting him admire the view before you felt him pull you to him.

“I hope you’ve learnt your lesson” he smirked giving you a gentle smack as you walked past him “now get upstairs, I’ll be up soon”

~~~

Hope you enjoyed it, feedback is encouraged and appreciated. 

[peculiarpatches]

𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙮 𝙌𝙪𝙞𝙣𝙣 𝙭 𝙁!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧: 𝙅𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮

       This is my first time writing  a Dom&Sub GXG so please be nice to me. This involves smut. Dominate Harley, submissive reader. Slapping, spanking, dirty talk, oral, fingering. I just watched Birds of Prey and thought of this halfway through, so, lmao. I hope yall like it. And remember, feedback is appreciated so please give a ‘like’ and or reblog. It’d mean the world to me. Also, if you have any suggestions, just message me and I might write them! :) lots of love. xx

｡☆✼★━━━━━━━━━━━━★✼☆｡

Harley was trying, damn it. Give her some credit, cut her some slack.  Try as she may, the anger and jealousy only continued to bubble up, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it down, it kept rising in the back of her throat, eager to come out and explode everywhere. That and it might be a bit of bile, too.... as gross as that may be, more than likely, yeah, it was a mixture of both. 

Harley had been drinking a lot of liquor as if the clear substance poured in the small glass shots were water rather than vodka. 

 Harley bit on her bottom lip so hard she could taste blood on the tip of her tongue. So, she continues. 

 Continues to drink until she feels every other emotion besides the bitterness feeling she was getting as she watched her best friend, (Y/N) on the dance floor.  (Y/N) and Harley were like two peas in a pod, inseparable those gals were. You'd never see Harley without (Y/N) by her side, the same way with (Y/N). They were attached  to each other like glue. 

Expect of course, right now, they were not. Harley sat, sulking, at one of the back booths of the club, eight empty glasses pushed aside, her hands holding up her face as she pouts and huffs to nobody other than herself.   

"I came here to have fun with her, not her to have fun without me," Harley whined, the pout on her face only growing bigger. Groaning, she facepalms  and shook her head from side to side, feeling frustrated tears starting to build in the corner of her eyes but she blinks them away before they could reveal themselves.  

 Her head snaps forward, so fast she swears she gets whiplash, when she hears (Y/N)'s laughter fill the air. Her laugh always caused goose bumps to bite at her skin and a chill to run up and down her back. Harley shivered as if she were cold but that was far from reality.

 In reality, Harley suddenly felt hot.  It felt as if she was on fire. 

Then she realizes, there's no use in trying to stop these feelings or try to push them away. They were bound to come out sooner or later.  (Y/N) was hers. Nobody else's.  End of story. The two have hooked up before, all of which the two were either really drunk and or had one too many pot brownies, but they have gotten together before.  

And as of right now, Harley was going to show (Y/N) just how better off she is with Harley by her side rather than some six feet muscular guy that (Y/N) was currently grinding up against. Harley growls as she stands up, trying her best not to fall as she exits out of the booth and pushes people out of the way before finding (Y/N).  "C'mon. We're leaving. Now." Harley barked, painted fingernails curling around (Y/N)'s wrist. "Well, hey there, good lookin', might I ask what you're doing, stealing away this beaut from me? If you're jealous, don't fret, love. There's more of me to go around. Sharing is caring, ain't that right, babydoll?" Harley's blood boils at the pet name he gives to (Y/N) and before she realizes it, her fist comes in contact with his face and her leg rises up as she kicks him in the groin.  "I said we're leaving." She spits.    

Taking (Y/N)'s hand, Harley drags her through the whispering crowd, half of the people laughing at how a man that tall and muscular so easily dropped to the floor with one swift movement, both from the hand and leg; others taking their phones out and snapping pictures of the scene.  Harley didn't care if people gave her glares as she walked past. Harley could care less.  She drags (Y/N) towards the back exit door, kicking it down as she then marches down to her apartment complex which wasn't even a foot away from the club. She's practically dragging (Y/N) behind her like a rag doll but she didn't care. All she cared about was showing (Y/N) who she belonged to. Once the door was open, Harley twirls around and bends forward, picking the girl up before walking inside  the small space that she called 'home'. It wasn't much but she loved it, regardless. Harley drops (Y/N) on the couch before crawling up and over her body, pinning her arms above her head.  During this whole 'meltdown' (if that's what you want to call it) (Y/N) remained quiet. As quiet as a church mouse. She didn't dare utter a single word, didn't dare say anything. She was either too drunk or too scared to speak.  "Babygirl," Harley's voice isn't soft and sweet, but sinister and cold. (Y/N)'s breath hitches and she shudders as Harley holds her face with the palm of her hand before backing her with it, earning a small gasp to spill out from (Y/N)'s lips.  

"You are in trouble, do you understand? You and your slutty fuckin' self. Who do you think you are, grinding against another man as if you want a cock when you already have a plastic one at home? Besides, is my tongue and fingers not cutting it out for you anymore, sweetheart?" Harley's  words were laced with malice and held as much venom as an Inland Taipan. 

"Don't you know who you belong to? You're mine. Always was, always will be. It's about time you realize that." Her voice is loud, booming, really, it causes (Y/N)'s ears to ring from how loud her best friend was being but all of it - the anger, the bottled up jealousy and affection exploding out of her - sent a shiver down her spine. It was also making her soaked, dripping with wetness. 

 "F-Fuck..." it's the first thing she's said all day and a bit of Harley is thankful the girl still knows how to speak, that she didn't totally scare her off with showing her dominate side.  "I'm really sorry, Harl-" "No." Harley cuts her off, pressing her fingertips to (Y/N)'s lips, smearing lipstick all over her fingers as she does so.  "You know what to call me." Harley stood up, crawling off of her best friend as she points to the couch. "Lay on your stomach, ass hanging in the air. You're getting a spanking." (Y/N) feels  warm and tingly all over and she's sure it's a combination of both being so turned on and drunk.  Either way, like a good girl, she follows orders. "Mistress..." Her voice is weak, barely above a whisper.  "I really am sorry." Her voice shook, as well as her body; every part of her was trembling and shaking. It wasn't out of fear, fuck no - she shook with nothing but excitement.    Harley shakes her head, rolling her eyes as she watches how horny - how desperate - (Y/N) was.  "Look at you, sprawled all out, legs separated, all for me to taste and to enjoy." Harley runs her hand over (Y/N)'s skirt, lifting the fabric up and touches the outside of her panties, loving the way the lace feels underneath the tips of her fingers. She was always a sucker for lace.  

Harley pulls her panties down, slowly peeling it off of her thighs and down to her ankles. Licking her lips, Harley smiles a seductive grin, her own wetness pooling inbetween her thighs.  (Y/N) was beautiful, without a doubt. 

More and more, each second of each passing day, Harley found herself falling more and more in love with the girl.  She loved everything about the girl. She could list off everything, tell all of it to (Y/N) but that'd take way too long and she felt as if time was running out and all Harley - really - wanted to do was taste (Y/N) on her tongue, in her mouth.  

Harley guides her fingers across (Y/N)'s ass, ghostly brushing along the skin before picking her hand up and slamming it down, earning a loud whimper and yelp to come from (Y/N)'s lips. "Fuck.... more, please, mistress, give me more. I've been so bad, such a naughty little thing, I deserve it. Please."    Harley grinned wickedly, giggling softly as she raises her hand again and lifts it back down. One slap followed another which followed another.  (Y/N) was begging for it and Harley fucking loved every single second of it.   "I know you deserve it because you're a slut, aren't you, princess? You're a filthy, dirty whore." Harley slams her hand onto (Y/N)'s ass again, rougher than the previous ones. 

 (Y/N) whimpers and pushes back up against Harley's hand, nodding eagerly. "Y-yes.... need to be punished. Please, punish me."  (Y/N) sobs, broken little cries falling from her mouth.  "That's just what you want, isn't it, baby?" Harley cooed, taking her hand off of (Y/N)'s bottom before reaching down and gazing her thumb over (Y/N)'s cute little clit.  

 "You want to be punished, don't you? Because you like it, right? Love it when I fuck you with a fake, plastic cock. Love the feeling of my fingers being buried deep inside your cunt. You love all of it - punishment or no punishment - because you're a fucking slut."  (Y/N)'s whines are - somehow - even louder than before and she's nodding rapidly, Harley giggles at the sight because her movements remind her of a bobblehead.  "Please," (Y/N) begged.  "Please, fuck me. Give it to me, nice and rough, just the way I like it. Show me who I belong to, Harley.... mistress, I meant... Mistress, please... I want it. I need it. I want your fingers, your tongue, anything, please." Harley knows by the sound of her voice, (Y/N) has tears in her eyes and she's willing to be fucked just by anything at this point.  "Filthy thing, you are." Harley murmurs, licking her lips before sinking to the floor. "Turn over, baby. Let's see how soaked you are."  Doing as she's told, (Y/N) rolls over and sits up, back against the cushions of the couch as she displays her pussy for Harley.  "Want Mistress to fuck you, huh? Fuck your tight little core until you're sore in the morning and can't walk without a limp? Want me to mark you up so everybody knows you're mine?"  All (Y/N) does is nod, far too flustered for words. "Say it. I want to hear you say it." Harley growled as her fingers shove their way inside (Y/N)'s eager and dripping wet cunt.  Moaning, (Y/N) nods as she throws her head back. "Mark me, Har. Make me your bitch. Fuck me like you hate me, please."   Harley smiles widely as she adds another finger, happily going to do exactly that.     "You're so tight, baby girl.... fucking dripping on my fingers." Harley cooed as she scissors her fingers back and forth, pushing and pulling, twisting and turning.  Before (Y/N) has any time to reply, or even say anything at all,  Harley's mouth is at her heat and (Y/N) groans at the sudden and unexpected gesture.  Harley hums, sending vibrations all over (Y/N)'s body. This causes her hips to jerk upward, moan after moan slipping out of her mouth. 

Harley swirls her tongue back and forth, inside and out, making sure her pussy wasn't going to go untouched. Every part of her womanhood,  she licked and sucked on.  Harley gazed up and a blush washes over her cheeks as she notices (Y/N) had already been looking down at her. 

 She was sparkling, loving the triumph at the mess she was making out of her dear and lovely best friend.  (Y/N) could feel that white and hot tension building in the pit of her stomach. Her entire body was broken out with goose bumps and she was shaking, trembling like a leaf. 

Her moans grew louder in volume, more high pitched, her nails dug into the cushion of the couch and as she closes her eyes, she's quick to reopen them due to the fact Harley had stopped what she was doing.  "Hey, I was enjoying myself-" "This is a punishment, remember, doll? Now, be a good girl and eat my pussy out. You were born to be my good pussy eater, weren't you? So, get to work. Get to pleasing me; your Mistress."  (Y/N) grunts, loving the foul language she spoke as she gets off the couch and falls to her knees, quick to put her mouth to good use.  Above her, Harley hummed in delight, slowly rocking her hips back and forth against (Y/N)'s warm and wet mouth. "There ya go... there's my good girl." Harley purred, lids fluttering close as she enjoys the way (Y/N)'s tongue feels against her clit.  

 Harley hadn't known how worked up she was until a few seconds pass and just as quickly as they started, she's spilling all her fluids and juices onto (Y/N)'s face, coating her skin with her cum.  "Fuck... 'm sorry about that, princess...... You just had me so worked up. Really, I've been thinkin about you all day. And I saw you with that guy and I just.... I got a little jealous, y'know?"  "No reason to be," (Y/N) replied, licking off the remains of Harley's orgasm off of her lips. "I was just havin' some fun. Besides, like you said, I'm yours. Always will be, always have been. Now, enough of this mushy chick flick moment, are you going to pound me and wreck me or not?"  Harley laughs and nods, taking (Y/N) up off of her feet and kisses her, not minding the taste of herself on her best friend - well, girlfriend's - lips.   "Let's go then, shall we?"  (Y/N) giggles loudly as Harley, as she had done before, lifts her up and carries her off to the bedroom.   "We're together now though, right?" "Yes, of course, dumbass."  "Just needed that confirmed."  "Of course, baby, I love you. I’m sorry I had such a hard time admitting that until today... Now, open that mouth up and let me choke you with this fake cock before I dick you down with it."

[realcube]

❥ HOW HE CONFESSES

characters ❥ mikey, draken & baji 

tw ❥ the beach, bad driving, mentions of murder and cursing 

cr ❥ requested by anon

a/n ❥ i’ve not read the manga yet :’(

MIKEY 

♥ his love language is shoplifting for you <33

♥ like okay.. in writing it kinda sounds pathetic compared to all the other shit he does but like.. he goes through the effort of personally picking up your favourite snack from the grocery store —instead of getting his toman underling to do it for him — and hiding them under his shirt 

♥ and he thinks about you the whole time he is sprinting away from security 

♥ if that isn’t true love idk what is 

♥ today wasn’t any ol’ day tho, snacks and sweets were going to cut it 

♥ instead, he went for the big shiny rock on a ring he keeps seeing the window of the rock shop on the high street

♥ it was pretty, for a rock, but not pretty enough for anyone in their right mind to think it’s worth £10,000/$14,000/ ¥1,500,000!!!

♥ however, after hearing that price from a salesperson, he knew that stupid rock ring was exactly how he’d win your heart <3 

♥ it was a challenge and it had him working overtime, but after pulling some strings, doing a couple favours, and maybe even inadvertently killing some people (you never know 🤷‍♂️), he managed to get his hands on the pristine stone, which he had come to learn was called a diamond, which was why it was so expensive 

♥ the guy who did him the favour of stealing it initially asked if mikey was planning on proposing and mikey said yes —since asking you out on a date is technically a proposal — and the dude didn’t even question it, he just said good luck

♥ and that sort of energy was exactly what mikey needed right now as he stood behind a wall near your lunch table as he mentally prepared himself for what he was about to do 

♥ all your friends had left yet you were still sitting there alone since mikey texted you and asked for you to wait behind, and the fact you actually did filled him with hope from the get-go

♥ “(y/n)! there you are!” mikey greeted as if he didn’t know exactly where you were this whole time. why was his heart thumping so harshly in his chest? and why did he suddenly feel overwhelmingly embarrassed? i mean, he’s not done anything worth being awkward about.. yet.

♥ he didn’t understand. he never usually gets this way around people. but then again, he shouldn’t be surprised since he knew you were an exception from the beginning

♥ “hi, mikey.” you hummed, head propped gently on your arm while you slipped your phone away, “why did you want to see me? is something wrong?”

♥ the slight concern he detected in your voice was enough for him to immediately blurt out, “oh, no! nothing like that! everything is great; i am great and i, erm, hope you are too.” he announced, somewhat glad that your only reaction was a blank stare as it meant he doesn’t feel inclined to explain himself 

♥ “so, uh, i was just wonder if you..” he started, clenching his jaw as he mentally reassured himself. the fact that he felt embarrassed about feeling embarrassed made things infinitely harder from him. he took a deep breath, and spilled

♥ “do you want to go out on a date with me sometime?” he basically screamed, squeezing his eyes shut tight and emptying his left pocket onto the table in front of you so that his special gift would accompany his proposal 

♥ he closed his eyes as if that was going to protect him from rejection, but before he was able to silently rebuke himself, he heard faint sobbing from where he dropped his present 

♥ upon opening his eyes, the shock from the sight before him was enough to give him whiplash

♥ in an unfortunate turn of events, he must’ve emptied the wrong pocket because sitting on the table in front of you was not a diamond ring, but rather a sherbet dip he bought to share with you if you said ‘yes’ to his proposal 

♥ and his suspicions were correct, you were the one crying 

♥ ....

♥ waIT WHY ARE YOU CRYING mikey panicked, frantically looking around for someone who might’ve hurt you, or perhaps someone he’d have to send to A&E

♥ “are you okay?”

♥ “yeah.” you whispered, your light chuckle enough to prevent mikey from worrying any more, “i’m just..” you stuttered, smiling fondly at the blonde, “i’m just really happy. i thought you’d never ask.” 

♥ it was impossible for mikey to conceal the sigh of relief he breathed as he slumped down next to you on the bench, “thank god. i thought someone had threatened you or something.”

♥ “threatened me? why would they do that?” you innocently cocked your head to the side, rubbing your eyes as you did so. 

♥ oh, yeah. mikey hadn’t been fully transparent with you about his.. current employment. as far as you knew, he was a full-time student at ‘toman academy’ and he had a part-time job babysitting (which was hardly a lie, in his opinion)

♥ so you didn’t really know about how he was the leader of the tokyo manji gang or any of that

♥ originally he thought it was fine to keep it a secret, but now that you were officially his partner it would be immoral to not let you know about his affiliation with the gang 

♥ so he decided to tell you over a sherbert <33

♥ “so, are we official?” he cooed, ripping the lollypops out of the bag and popping one in his mouth while offering you the other by tapping it against your lips lightly 

♥ “yep.” you smiled, taking the lolly into your mouth with a smile, glad that he didn’t bring up your little waterworks a few second ago 

♥ but in all honesty, he was preoccupied wondering what the most appropriate way to phrase ‘i am the leader of a gang of delinquents’ would be 

♥ poor little mikey brain working on overdrive 

♥ he decided to pull out the ring, since he still had to give that to you, so while you were entranced by the fat gem glistening under the light in mikey’s possession, he began, “so, babe, do you think being a gang leader is hot?”

DRAKEN

♥ he honestly didn’t have a clue how to ask you out

♥ in fact, he didn’t even know that he had a crush on you until mikey pointed out all of his weird behaviours around you 

♥ so his first instinct was to go to mikey for advice when thinking of ways to ask you out 

♥ but the only idea that mf was to get ‘will you go out with me, (y/n)?’ tattooed onto his ‘thick skull’ and ofc draken wasn’t about to do that

♥ although he did consider it for like.. a minute

♥ (he was like.. hmmmm... well, the tattoo guy does owe me a favour so... maybe i could get it for free?)

♥ (or permanent marker might work???)

♥ anyway, he eventually decided to ask you out the good ol’ fashion way!! by just telling you how he feels

♥ however, once he explained this plan to mikey, he was scoffed and said ‘good luck with that’ in the most condescending tone of voice

♥ draken’s initial instinct was to simply beat up mikey and go ask you out anyway, but this conflict ran deeper than just him and mikey bickering about trivial issues- his whole relationship was on the line! 

♥ so after hearing the leader out, he finally decided on the most appropriate way to confess — just like how all the dudes in the animes mikey and him and watched did it 

♥ by giving you flowers and chocolates <3

♥ and mikey even offered to come into the store with draken and help him choose the goods since mikey was a self-proclaimed ‘love-expert’

♥ draken obviously denied his offer but he came along anyway 

♥ “ooh, ken-chin! look at these ones, they’re on sale.” mikey gasped, happily grabbing a pack of heart-shaped chocolates off the shelf, ripping them open and stuffing his face, “and they are delicious too!”

♥ paying no attention to the fact that mikey had essentially already committed a crime since there was no way he intended to pay for those chocolates, draken mused while eyeing up the rest of the sweets, the bouquet of flowers he had already chosen tucked under his arm, “valentine’s day was a week ago, that’s probably why they are on sale.” 

♥ “draken?” 

♥ a familiar voice from the end of the aisle caused draken to avert his gaze from the chocolates displayed in front of him and instead search for the source of the voice, which happened to be you standing innocently with your basket in-hand

♥ “ah, (y/n),” draken tensed, immediately shoving the bouquet of flowers behind his back at hopefully out of your sight as he put on a forced smile to distract from them too, “what a nice surprise seeing you here.”

♥ “hm?” mikey chimed in, unable to vocalise his curiosity through the chocolates stuffed in his mouth, but that didn’t stop him from trying, “is that the (y/n) you were talking about? the one you were going to conf--” 

♥ “that’s enough outta you.” draken hissed through a fake smile, shoving mikey into the next aisle, which happened to be the snack aisle so, entertained, he decided to stay put

♥ “oh, is that your friend mikey?” you inquired, having only ever heard about mikey through rumours up until now. though none of them exactly matched the image you saw just there

♥ “yep, he’s pain sometimes, but he’s still cool.” draken muttered, awkwardly rolling on the balls of his feet as he waited for a deity to save him from this interaction —  not that he didn’t want to talk to you, it’s just that every second you spend with him, the less likely it becomes that his confession will go as planned

♥ and you only confirmed that with your follow-up question

♥ “i see you’ve got flowers, and you’re looking for chocolates. who’s the special someone?” you teased, poking draken’s cheek playfully (which is one of the many things he only finds comfort in when you do it)

♥ “oh, no one.” he hummed, his coy smile doing a number on your heart rate

♥ “how about you? who is that card for?” he inquired casually, gesturing to the classic pink ‘i have something to tell you... <3′ confession card that was only in-stock during valentine’s day season, that was sitting atop the groceries in your basket

♥ a cocky smirk tugged at his lips — as if to say ‘i won’ — while he watched you become increasingly flustered right in front of him. it was adorable

♥ but he thought it would stop there; stop with him winning the teasing battle, you getting all sheepish then leaving but that apparently wasn’t your plan

♥ instead, you lowered your head and outstretched your arms to give him the card (which was still in the wrapping plastic) 

♥ “red-handed. i bought these with you in mind, draken.” you said, voice barely above a whisper, “but if you don’t accept then that’s fine too, have a nic--”

♥ “who said i don’t accept?” draken grumbled, almost as if he was annoyed, as he took your card and examined the card thoroughly for a couple seconds

♥ then suddenly, he froze. the shock of the realisation leaving him stunned to the point where the only thing he could do was shift his eyes from the card on to you and utter in a terrified tone, “this isn’t, uh, this isn’t a confession, is it?”

♥ you shrugged, “i guess, it is.” 

♥ “damn it.” draken cursed, glaring at the snack aisle and hence mikey, for giving him this stupid idea

♥ “is there a problem?” 

♥ “no.” draken said through gritted teeth before pulling out the bouquet his had hidden behind his back, “but i was meant to confess first.”

♥ your jaw dropped, leaving draken concerned for a second until you instantly pulled him in for a tight hug; another thing he admired about you was that you gave hugs like you were in the mafia, strong enough to cut off his airflow

♥ “double confession!” you squealed, absolutely delighted that draken not only wanted to confess to you, but he had the same idea to come to the shop and buy stuff beforehand

♥ “i guess so.” draken chuckled, handing you the bouquet of flower as soon as you pulled away, “these are for you.” 

♥ you gasped, smiling at how he managed to remember your favourite kind of flower after a single off-handed comment you made ages ago, “thank you!” you hugged them to your chest, “have you already paid for them?”

♥ “no.” draken replied simply. “but they are still yours.”

♥ sometimes it slipped your mind that draken was part of a literal gang since.. he just seemed so normal and humble 

♥ but on some other occasions, it was painfully difficult to consider draken anything close to ‘normal’

♥ and one of those moments was when he was trying to convince security he was pregnant with a flower-baby, and when that evidently didn’t work, he just made a run for it with mikey, whose pants pockets were filled with sweets that trailed behind him where ever he ran

BAJI

♥ he didn’t even ponder about how he was supposed to confess to you for over a second

♥ the idea just came to him instantly and he went with it

♥ the only question he asked was ‘how can i show them how badass i am without bragging?’ and he immediately came up with an answer and rolled with it, no questions asked 

♥ and there was no planning or anything done beforehand either, he literally just texted you ‘where are you?’ at like 7PM and when you replied ‘the park’, he hopped on his bike and sped over 

♥ like he didn’t even ask which park.. he just guessed.. but he guessed correctly 

♥ your heart almost stopped as you watched a chunky motorcycle come speeding towards you at such a rate that all you could do was brace for impact and kiss goodbye to your relatively peaceful live

♥  however, at the very last second it swerved around you and came to a halt, allowing the rider to extend his free hand to you, “hop on.”

♥ the voice was all to familiar and you weren’t surprised at all to see baji with his signature ‘i could kill you’ grin plastered on his face 

♥ as your heart rate slowly began to return to normal, you cried, “what do you mean ‘hop on’? you almost ran me over!”

♥ he unclipped his helmet and tossed it to you, “safety first.”

♥ “did you even hear what i just said?” you grumbled, putting on the helmet anyway 

♥ “i think you said something about how excited you are to finally go out with me.” he mused, shuffling forwards slightly to give you more space to sit on behind him, like a true gentleman /s

♥ “no.” you replied simply. 

♥ though you initially had no intention of going anywhere with him, you still found yourself reaching your leg over his bike to take a seat behind him, “where are we going?”

♥ baji shrugged, chuckling slightly as he felt you gently wrap your arms around his hips, “don’t know, but hold on tight.” he warned, revving his engine and taking off without another word

♥ perhaps you were the fool for getting on a motorcycle with baji and letting him take you to an undisclosed location, but you trusted him enough to know that he wouldn’t try to drive you off a cliff or put you in danger.. or at least, that is what you hoped

♥ however, if it wasn’t a rival gang that kills you, baji’s driving definitely would

♥ he drives like a madman and left you with no other choice but to cling onto him for dear life, since if you didn’t bury yourself into his side, you’d probably fly off with all sharp turns he does around the other cars/bikes

♥ it was like being taped to the top of a vehicle in mario cart

♥ eyes squeezed shut, you yelled over the harsh blaring of the wind, “slow the fuck down! where are you even taking me?” 

♥ baji was having fun, but he was getting the feeling you weren’t..

♥ usually he doesn’t care about what other think but this was the first time he was taking you out, he didn’t want you to think of him as a maniac driver, or else you might not want to come with him ever again

♥ “if you open your eyes, you’ll see.” he uttered, slowing down slightly so the noises weren’t as harsh 

♥ taking his word for it, you hesitantly pried open one of your eyes and turned your neck so your face was no longer pressed against his shoulder

♥ and honestly, you were glad you did. passed the edge of the road, you had the perfect view of the beach below, the sea gently glistening under the orange sunset 

♥ now that your nose was free from only breathing in baji’s sickeningly strong, wild spice body spray, you finally able to enjoy fresh ocean air 

♥ “the beach.” you mused, smiling down at the completely deserted sandy shore, which looked so beautifully peaceful in contrast to how busy it was when you usually come 

♥ “no shit.” baji chuckled, his eyes remaining glued to road, despite how much he wanted to see your reaction

♥ you let out a defeated sighed, leaning against his back, “but it’s closed.”

♥ baji nodded, “yep, that means we’ve got the whole place to ourselves!”

♥ before you could question what baji meant by that, he steered off the edge of the road and down the steep hillside which led to the beach, though it definitely was not meant to be drove on as there were several warning sign at the side of the road, warning drivers about the hill

♥ “baji, what the fuck?!” you screamed over baji’s amused laughter, similar to the way you’d laugh if you were playing GTA, rather than playing with actual human lives

♥ “isn’t this fun?” he yelled back, enjoying how the wind felt against his skin as he maneuvered his bike down the steep hill 

♥ honestly, you weren’t sure whether you enjoyed it or not, but as soon as the bike came to a smooth landing upon the soft sand of the beach, you found yourself silently wanting to do that again

♥ “well, how was that?” baji asked, immediately hopping off the bike on his own only so he could offer you a hand

♥ accepting his hand, you stepped off the cycle only to notice that your legs were shaking, yet you oddly liked it, “that was.. okay.” you murmured, not wanting to feed his ego but also unable to lie to him.

♥ “great.” he uttered, leaning forward to carefully unclip your helmet for you and sling it over the handle of his bike

♥ “so,” he started, looking around the beach for any stray cops or surveyors, “what do you wanna do?” 

♥ he felt a light tug on his jacket sleeve, causing him to look down and meet your pleading gaze, “do you think we could go out again? some other time, maybe?”

♥ all baji did was laugh, resulting in you become sheepish for a moment, until he wrapped his arms around you picked you up for a hug, “obviously!”

♥ you smiled, your cheeks heating up slightly, “nice!”

♥ “anyway,” he started, placing you back down and dashing off towards the sea, “loser owes me lunch!”

♥ ignoring how he gets lunch either way, you immediately sprinted off behind him, watching as he dramatically fell over a large shell and face-planted into the the sand

♥ being the kind friend you are, you ignored him and continued running towards the water, only for him to grab your ankle and trip you up too

♥ “ha!” that is how he shows affection <3

[fruitcoops]

Hi, Eve

Rose here from yesterday, thank you very much for the Birthday message, I wasn't expecting you to read it let alone reply but I was looking for Coops kids Birthday fluff specifically. It doesn't matter if you don't have time however as I don't want to be a bother.

Hello Rose, and happy (belated) 20th birthday! Sorry for the wait--I really wanted to get this one right to celebrate such an important number. I hope your day was absolutely fantastic! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Stella is an OC

Combined with asks for Sirius lightly making fun of Remus' accent and Remus yelling at a game show (@nazar4114)

“Medusa!” Stella shouted with all the force in her thirteen-year-old lungs. Remus leaned forward on the couch. “Medusa!”

The front door opened with a creak. “I’m h—”

“Yes!” they cheered in unison as Nicole answered correctly. Remus turned and gave Stella a double high-five, feeling his heart squeeze at the vivid joy on her round face. “Good guess.”

“I knew she was gonna get it,” Stella said with a pump of her fist as she turned back to the show and folded her legs underneath her.

“Gonna,” a familiar deep voice mimicked from the doorway. Paper bags rustled before footsteps stopped behind the couch; Remus tilted his chin up without sparing a glance, and Sirius pressed a laugh-laced kiss to his cheek before dropping one on Stella’s head as well. “You sound too much like your dad.”

“Love you, too,” Remus said wryly.

“I’ll take ‘Myths and Moths’ for 400, please.” Nicole’s voice snapped his attention back to the screen, and Stella narrowed her eyes.

“Daily Double!” the automated voice announced. Stella gasped; Remus bit his lower lip. “This mythical shield was wielded by Athena, and is sometimes said to be made of goat skin.”

“Aegis,” Stella whispered, then raised her voice. “It’s the Aegis, Nicole. You know this.”

“We know you do,” Remus said, scooting forward. “You just guessed whose head is on it.”

Nicole’s buzzer went off with two seconds to spare. “What is the Aegis?”

“Hell yeah!” Stella whooped.

Remus turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Excuse you.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you two going to do this the whole afternoon?” Sirius asked from the kitchen, obviously amused. “We might need to get the neighbors some noise-cancelling headphones.”

Stella blew a dark lock of hair out of her eyes as she flopped her head back. “It’s almost final Jeopardy, papa. We have, like, ten minutes.”

Sirius blinked at her, then shook his head. “I swear you two share genes.”

“Ope, you caught me,” Remus said over the noise of the commercial break. “When I was 20 and had literally never left Wisconsin, I went and had a secret kid in Maine who looks terribly like you just so that someone would watch Jeopardy reruns with me thirteen years later. Oops.”

“It’s the truth,” Stella said with great gravity. “I remember.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered, though he couldn’t keep a smile down. He had never been able to hide around Stella, not once in the three years since they had adopted her. It was one of the things Remus loved most about him. “By the way, nobody under the age of fourteen is allowed in the kitchen for the next…hour. Ish.”

Stella squirmed around until she could rest her arms on the back of the couch. “What if I get thirsty?”

“I’m sure you can invoke birthday privileges and ask your dad to get something for you.”

“Birthday privileges?” Remus scoffed. “Nobody in this house has a birthday today. Yours was last month, and mine’s in March.”

“It’s my birthday,” Stella said.

“What? No, it’s not.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Your birthday is in June.”

“It’s today.”

“Or maybe July?”

“It’s today, in December, when there’s snow,” she insisted, throwing herself back against the pillows. “Come on, dad, that’s not funny anymore.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Is somebody too old to find their poor old dad amusing now? Can you go back to being twelve so somebody will laugh at my jokes again? I know, I know, we're super lame compared to all your friends’ parents—”

“So lame,” Sirius agreed from the kitchen.

“—but I like to think we get one more year of pre-teen cuteness before the teen angst takes over.”

Stella sat up again with a groan. Looking at her, Remus saw a mix of himself and Sirius that had always baffled him, considering they had adopted her comparatively late in her life; beneath it was something uniquely Stella. Maybe it was her double-jointed elbows, or the board-straightness of her hair next to their curls, but there was no mistaking that she was her own person through and through. He loved that about her. “I’m not going to be a terrible teenager.”

Sirius poked his head around the edge of the kitchen—his nose was adorned with a smudge of flour. “Can I record that for future use?”

“Non.”

“Ooo, using the French,” Remus hissed. “That transformation is already beginning.”

“It’s not like you were bad teenagers, right?” She settled upside-down on the couch with her flamingo-patterned socks high in the air.

“I almost convinced Grandma to let me dye my hair blue, but otherwise I was pretty good.”

“I was terrible,” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t talk to anybody for a solid three years.”

Stella frowned. “How? I think I’d die if I did that.”

“He’s stubborn,” Remus stage-whispered.

“I heard that.”

Stella suppressed her laughter as best she could, but she was about as good at hiding her emotions around them as Sirius was. She didn’t really giggle—the amount her voice had deepened over the past three years always gave Remus whiplash—but her laugh had the same cadence as it did the first day they heard it. While Stella had been quiet at first, it only took love and time to bring her out of her shell. Within a year she settled into their lives like she was always meant to be there.

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “This is my last year before high school.”

“Does it feel different?”

“Not really.” She paused, then shrugged. “And a little. I don’t feel older. It just feels like there’s stuff I won’t get to do anymore.”

“And a lot more you will get to do.” Sirius left his dishtowel on the counter before joining them on Stella’s other side. “You can drive soon, you’ll get a longer curfew, you get more freedom…”

“I guess.”

“What are you going to miss?” Remus asked as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. It was a basic Lions FAN jersey; he was fairly sure she bought it to be ironic. That, and she only wore one of theirs if she was upset with the other, or if one needed a boost at a game.

“I dunno.” A few beats of silence passed. “My classmates. My team. It feels like everything’s going to turn upside down.”

“You can still keep in touch with your friends, and I bet your team won’t be too different,” Sirius said quietly. “Even if it does, that doesn’t mean you have to give all of them up. People change in different ways. They come and go on their own time.”

“There’s going to be a lot of upside-downs over the next couple years, kid.” Remus offered her a smile. “But you’re going to be just fine.”

“You two sound like such dads right now.”

“This might shock you, but that’s because we are.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up and she lolled her head to the side to look at Sirius. “Is the cake done?”

“Fifteen more minutes.”

“Will you watch final Jeopardy with us?”

“What’s the category?”

“US Presidents.”

Sirius exhaled through his nose, but nodded. She grinned and turned herself upright to snuggle against his arm. “You just enjoy watching me lose.”

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

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Sirius called from the kitchen.

“On three,” Remus said, raising his phone camera. “One, two, three!”

“Happy birthday to you,” over a dozen voices sang. They were off-tempo and so out of key the composer was probably spinning in his grave, but Stella’s clear joy didn’t waver for a millisecond even as her cheeks reddened. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Stella, happy birthday to you!”

Finn, of course, dragged out the last note. So did Leo, Logan, Kasey, James, Lily, and Talker in varying degrees of awful harmony attempts. It was terrible, and beautiful. “Make a wish,” Sirius said softly as he set the cake down and stepped back. His eyes were the brightest quicksilver Remus had seen in many moons.

Stella closed her eyes, took a breath, and blew as hard as she could—the entire room erupted into cheers when all the candles went out. She was laughing and blushing at the same time when Remus turned the lights back on, though the humor won out in the end and she helped pass plates of cake to her many aunts and uncles. Like every year prior, Regulus managed to smear a bit of frosting on her chin, only to immediately deny it with great offense when she noticed. It was becoming a bit of a tradition—one that Remus never grew tired of.

I know what I would wish for, Remus thought as he looked around the table at their patchwork family. Celeste, Dumo, and his own parents had no doubt spoiled their first grandchild with ‘cusp of adulthood’ gifts, and Natalie and Lily would certainly steal her away after cake for some girl time. Finn and Logan would remain the fun uncles while Leo and Regulus kept their thrones as the cool uncles; Stella would interrogate Jules on the intricacies of high school for at least an hour before they destroyed everyone in a snowball fight. The world they built together had a place for everyone.

I would wish for this. This, for us, forever. It wasn’t a bad eternity to imagine.

[thefanficmonster]

My Kind

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warning: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Having been chosen by the gang to be a guest streamer on today’s stream of Among Us, it’s safe to say Y/N’s super excited but also a bit nervous. The whole of her anxiety gets lifted off her when she meets someone with the exact same vibe as hers - yeah you guessed it.

Requested by @monizzle96 Hi dear! Thank you so much for your wonderful request! I’m so terribly sorry it’s taken me so long to write and post it but here it finally is! I hope you come across it and read it and if so I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

This has to be the fiftieth time I’ve checked my setup in the past twenty four hours. But no, I’m definitely not nervous, what are you talking about. Pshhh. Nah, being nervous isn’t in my brand. Plus, what do I have to make me nervous - a group of famous streamers inviting me onto their stream to play Among Us with them because they enjoyed my own streams? Ok yeah, that’s a pretty good reason. Not gonna lie, I almost chucked my phone out of excitement when I received that DM from Toast, telling me they’d picked me to be their guest streamer for today’s date. My stomach was doing somersaults for a good forty-eight hours following that text and then the anxiety slowly started setting in fueled by the expectations they probably have of me.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not inexperienced in the streaming field, I’ve been a streamer longer than some of the members of Toast’s streamer gang actually. But I never managed to garner that big of a following which I’m honestly quite ok with. I have a modest - ok, maybe larger than modest - following consisting of incredibly loyal fans which I will never stop being grateful for. They are all so respectable of me, my privacy and my boundaries. They know the main rules: no shit-talking in the chat or in any of my comment sections, no bashing other YouTubers in my comments/chat, and most definitely not asking for a face reveal. Fun fact: I didn’t even set up that last rule, they all just collectively know not to ask for it. 

I’ve been keeping my brand pretty low-key to avoid garnering some unwanted attention - some of which I’ve already experienced on certain social media platforms following the full body pictures I posted on there - face not visible of course. I tend to also have my webcam on, facing towards my hands working away on the keyboard sometimes when I stream. I don’t know why people obsess over faceless content creators’ hands, but I appreciate the enthusiasm - it also drives me to do a manicure every now and then which ain’t so bad, self-care and all that you know.

Now, back to the subject of my ridiculous nervousness.

You see, it has layers.

I’m nervous of ‘preforming’ underwhelmingly and I’m nervous of what my own fans will think of the person I will become during this stream. They know me as a super chill and laid-back person, which I am by the way, but they might think I’m putting on a show if I exhibit any nervous gestures/vocabulary. I highly doubt they would, but the possibility is not letting my mind rest. And now that it’s about ten minutes till the stream starts, I’m getting doing my best to calm my nerves.

They are all just people. You know they are super chill too. Just be yourself, that’s why they invited you, because you are yourself on all your streams. They liked you for your personality, humor, maybe even your gaming skills. So chill the hell out and be yourself, damn it!

Easier thought than put into action that’s for sure.

I start my stream five minutes early just so I can vibe with my viewers for a little while before I have to meet the gang. My fans always have a way of injecting me with confidence, they remind me of where I was when I started and how far I’ve come. How much I achieved when I thought I’d be nothing and no one, someone the algorithm would simply overlook. But then they entered my life and I entered theirs and it all became much better than I ever thought it would get to be. I rarely tell myself ‘good job’ for the milestones I’ve reached or the hard work I’ve put into my content, but that’s probably cause I orient myself based on that quote from the movie Whiplash: ‘There are no two words in the English language more harmful than good job’ - simply put, I’m never satisfied with what I do and I always strive to do better. My fans, however, make sure I don’t go overboard with it - always serving as a reminder that I’ve done plenty for myself and others. And that’s what makes an amazing fandom, one I consider family.

Whoa, when did those five minutes fly by?!

Ah shit, here we go. Deep breaths, Y/N you got this.

“Hello!“ I say as I enter the Discord call, subconsciously biting my lower lip, grateful the camera isn’t capturing it. However, I make a mental note to keep my hands steady cause that’s the one part of me people can actually see and the last thing I want is for them to see how much my fingers are trembling.

“Oh hi, Y/N!“ Toast is the first one to greet me, “Welcome to the stream! Thank you so much for accepting our invitation.“

“Thank you for having me and inviting me, Toast. This is a huge deal for me. You guys are basically YouTube legends, this is unreal to me.“ I reply, cringing immediately afterwards because of my fangirl rambling. Great way to make first impressions, Y/N. Bravo.

To be fair, they already have an impression of you. Quit stressing.

Aright, you’ve got a point, me.

“Oh please, we owe all that to our fans. We’re really nothing special. All streamers are almost completely alike, we all owe where we are to the people who helped us make it there - our fans. We’re no legends.“ Toast says, bringing a small smile to my face as well as a light pink blush to my cheeks, “And from what I’ve seen, you yourself have quite the following. And your fans seem to adore you.“

“And I absolutely adore them.“ I chuckle, “They mean the world to me. They are the reason I’m here today.”

“Then we have to give them a special thank you, don’t you think?“ The teasing, familiar giggle, widens my smile - it’s Rae, “Nice to meet you, Y/N! I’m Rae, and, no cap, I’m quite a fan of your content. No joke, I binged your entire series of Resident Evil 7 as soon as I found your channel when Toast said he’d invite you.“

This rattles me a bit. I can hardly believe it - am I really receiving a compliment from an A-list name in the streaming world? My fans must be hella proud of me right now. A quick glance at my chat confirms that they indeed are. That in and of itself fills me with joy and newfound confidence.

“Oh Gosh, thank you so much Rae! That means the world to me. You’re all so sweet.“ I reply, lifting my ice cold hands to cool down my burning cheeks, my lips spread into a grin, my stomach filled with butterflies.

“Oh please, we have some real savages around here.“ A male voice, seemingly Charlie’s scoffs, “Don’t overlook us please.“

“Wait, we do?“ A deep voice, one I immediately know the owner of speaks up, “Who? How come I don’t know about that?“

I can’t help bust snort, “Nice to meet you, Corpse. Sarcasm central, I see.”

He laughs, “Just returning it to where it’s due. Nice to meet you too, Y/N. Sick Outlast series, by the way.“

Ok, wait, I have two A-list streamers complimenting my content. Ok, I’m bound to crack open a few beers to celebrate later cause OH MY GOD.

“Thanks! I’m a horror junkie so I’d be lying if I said I haven’t binge watched all your story-times. Personal favorites are the deep web ones, they fascinate me.“

“Oh, you’re one of my kind even more than I expected, huh?“ He replies, the tone of his voice changing, raising a bit due to what I can only describe as excitement and enthusiasm. “I’ve had people tell me it’s twisted, but I really like seeing the lengths to which the fucked up human mind can go to. Like, the shit I’ve read is insane! Some stories I didn’t narrate cause I would’ve probably had my video taken down, it was that messed up.“

My eyes widen, sharing the same excitement at the thought of digging deeper into this phenomenon, “Careful, Corpse, you’re walking a dangerous line of tempting me to deep-dive on Reddit in search of those exact stories.”

“No need.“ Corpse says, his tone now taking up a bit of a cocky note, “I still got them all saved, I can send them to you no problem.“

“Please do! I seriously gotta read them now. If I can’t sleep afterwards, I’m blaming you, Corpse. Just FYI.“ I say, giggling slightly, finding myself all but completely comfortable now. I wonder where all that anxiety went? 

“Blame fully taken. Given that I’m not much of a sleeper, I’ll keep you company whenever you think there’s a killer hiding in your closet or fear a red room pop-up will appear on your computer screen.“ He replies, chuckling.

“Um, that’s oddly specific.“ Charlie comments, “Been there yourself, buddy?”

“Perhaps.“ Corpse wheezes, getting a laugh out of me too, “I will neither confirm nor deny.“

“You know what, I’ll just private message you my number so if you see it call you at some ungodly hour, you don’t freak the fuck out. Sounds good?“ I ask, already prepping to type it out and send it to him. 

“Perfect. Wait...“ he pauses for a second, sounding puzzled for a second, “You don’t have mine.“

“Oh, do I not?“ I reply with a sinister tone - thought to answer the question, I of course don’t have his number.

“Oh, do you?“ He sasses me right back. “If so then you don’t need me to send it to you. Cool.“

Ah, shit

“Wait, no! I-I need to confirm it’s the correct one!“

Damn, never did I think I’d be complimented by some of the most important streamers on this platform, but to get a number of theirs too? That’s a whole another level that will take me time to process. But I’ll do that another time, right now, I have to kick these people’s butts in Among Us and later I have some deep web stories to read.

Turns out, all it takes to get comfortable in a new surrounding is someone of your kind. And Corpse is definitely one of my kind.

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse

[stylesluxx]

9:41pm – p.lahote

[warnings: angst but eh and like two swears and horrible writing]

summary: in which y/n distances herself from paul in an attempt to protect him | requested!

word count: 4,539

masterlist

Being best friends with Bella Swan meant you were always in a state of worry. You were worried she'd trip over air and fall into the middle of oncoming traffic, or she'd stab herself with a plastic spoon and Jasper Hale would cause a scene in the middle of the lunchroom. And it's not like you had anything against the Cullens, you were all good friends, but you knew how Jasper could get. And it also didn't help that your boyfriend, Paul's, words were always in the back of your mind about the "leeches." But you knew the Cullens first and knew not to judge them too harshly.

Bella Swan shook up the town of Forks, whether she recognized it or not. You grew up in Forks, loved the quietness and scenery. You weren't too excited to have to leave for college but figured you'd find somewhere that was similar to your hometown. You were pretty quiet and kept to yourself and maybe that's why you and Bella got along so well. But once she befriended you and introduced you to the Cullens, you figured you were entering the new normal.

It had slipped out when Bella was talking in her sleep during a sleepover that the Cullens were supernatural beings and it was a well-known fact that your friend wasn't a good liar. So when you confronted her about it and she was stammering, not giving you a real answer, you just gave her a knowing look.

"I won't tell anyone. I mean, you'd be the only person I tell," You shrugged and she nodded.

"It's a complicated thing, but I trust you. Just... don't think about it around Edward."

You looked at her warily before just nodding your head in agreement.

Of course, Edward already knew thanks to Alice and both you and Bella had to deal with Rosalie's death stare, which bumped her down to being your least favorite Cullen.

And when they left town and left a hole in your best friend, you and Jacob picked her back up and put the pieces together as best as you could, but deep down, you knew only Edward would be able to fix her completely.

And then, Jacob left. You were hurt by this since you two had grown closer. He was like yours and Bella's little brother and him disappearing like how your vampire friends did was painful.

The second time Bella went to confront the boy, you went for moral support. Your arms crossed over your chest as you stood behind Bella, who patiently greeted Billy Black.

"I can't believe this brat is sleeping," You scoffed, but Bella was already out the room, ready to confront the group of guys that just walked on the Black property.

"Bella, no," You called out while following her onto the grass.

"What did you do?"

You reached to grab her arm, ready to go home, but she yanked it out of your grip.

"What did you do? What did you do to him?" She angrily questioned who you assumed to be Sam Uley, pushing him roughly.

He looked exactly how Jacob described; aged beyond his years. He had copper skin, brown eyes, and was about 6'6". Almost as tall as Jacob. And he had the same tattoo Bella said Jacob had.

You looked at the other three boys and they had the same one in the same spot. You recognized Embry, giving him a weird look before turning your attention back to the raging girl in front of you.

"What did we do? What did he do? What'd he tell you?" The boy that spoke was menacing and looked at Bella as if she were below him. He was intriguing despite his demeanor, but deep down you knew he was just bad luck.

"Bella-" You started but were ignored.

"Nothing! He tells us nothing because he's scared of you," She responds, making the boys in front of you laugh.

You had enough at this point. It was already enough Bella was ignoring you but now being laughed at, you were over it. They weren't necessarily laughing at you but what Bella said was exactly how you felt as well. It felt as if they were invalidating your worry.

"Oh fuck off!" You scoffed, though you weren't spared a glance from the boy. You went to reach for the keys in Bella's coat pocket but were taken aback by her swinging her arm back and slapping the menacing boy.

The muscular, six-foot boy went from shaking with laughter to shaking with anger, causing your eyes to widen.

"It's too late now!" Laughed the boy to your left but his comment and Sam's warning fell on deaf ears.

"Isabella!" You spoke sternly, grabbing her arm and slowly backing away from the group.

The boy in front of you disappeared and in his spot, a huge, dark silver wolf stood. If you knew nothing about the supernatural world, you could've sworn this was a nightmare but once you saw his eyes, you knew it was the same boy.

You and Bella turned around, facing the Black house as you started running, losing your hold on her.

"Bella! Y/N!" The brat, as you called him, shouted, jumping off his porch and running toward you.

"Run! Jake run!" Bella screamed, attempting to warn him, but he kept running ahead with no intention of slowing down.

She jumped over Bella as she clumsily tumbled to the ground, making you groan and turn to pull her up. But in the midst of trying to rescue your friend, you see the other turn into a russet brown wolf, standing taller than the silver one.

"It's always something when I'm with you, I'll give you that," You mumbled and watched the two wolves go at each other, breaking Billy's boat and tumbling into the woods.

"Take them back to Emily's place," Sam directed the remaining two before running into the woods.

"Guess the wolf's out of the bag."

You rolled your eyes at the corny joke as you pulled Bella to her feet.

"The next time I say we leave, let's just leave, yeah?" You huffed and started toward the big red truck.

You arrived at the small brown home in the middle of the woods and you sighed, still trying to take in the events that happened less than 10 minutes ago.

Embry and the other boy jumped out of the truck, leaving you and Bella in the two-seat truck, her on your lap.

"Hey, I think we should go back and see if Jacob's okay," Bella suggested as she rolled down the window.

Honestly, you weren't thinking about the well-being of either of the boys. But instead, you replayed the whole interaction with the silver wolf before he changed. You have to ask Jacob what his name was, but casually so he wouldn't try to tease you about a crush.

"Have Paul sink some teeth in him. Serves him right!"

So the menacing one's name was Paul. You nodded as you took the information and set up a folder for him in your head.

They were talking about some bet before stopping and turning to look at the two of you in the truck.

"Come on in guys, we won't bite!" Embry called, giving you two a boyish smile making you chuckle. You always thought he was adorable, like a little baby you wanted to squish.

"I know we're a bit shaken up, but come on Bells, with the other people we hang out with, we really aren't in the position to hesitate," You said, patting her thigh as encouragement.

She got out of the car and you followed behind, giving Embry a small smile.

"You know, I liked you better with long hair," You teased the lanky boy as you walked up the steps to the house.

"Gotta keep it short so my fur isn't too long," He answered with a grin on his face, walking behind you. "Oh hey, about Emily, Sam's fiancée: don't stare. It bugs Sam."

"Why would we stare?" You questioned before walking inside the house, immediately met with warmth and the smell of muffins.

"You guys hungry? Like I have to ask," You heard the melodic voice tease the boys.

"Who's this?" She asked after looking up and giving both you and Bella a smile.

"Y/N Y/L/N and Bella Swan. Who else?" Jared introduced you two as he sat at the table.

"Hm, so you're the vampire girls?" Emily teased.

"Ehhh, I'm more neutral territory," You chuckled, hoping to help ease Bella so she could take over talking for now.

"So you're... the wolf girl?" Bella added on, after thinking a bit for a comeback. "Guess so- well, I'm engaged to one."

You watched as Embry sat and Emily brought the fresh muffins over to the table. The boys immediately reached out for them.

"Save some for your brothers. And ladies first. Muffin?"

You looked over at Bella and nodded as she mumbled a quick "sure."

You grabbed a muffin hesitantly (you didn't want to overstep even though you were offered one).

You zoned out as Bella talked to Emily and the boys, and you settled on thinking about "Paul." You replayed the interaction and how he kept his fierce brown eyes on Bella, his target. Why was he so defensive about whatever Jacob did or didn't say? The way his emotions changed so quickly gave you whiplash. He went from being defensive to laughing and then pissed (which you don't blame him for, Bella shouldn't have slapped him). You knew this wasn't someone that you would necessarily enjoy being around. He just seems loud and like he can never just have a relaxed moment; he's fueled off of his emotions. But you couldn't help but think about his brown eyes, tanned skin, and toned body. You couldn't stop yourself from picturing a quiet day in with him, staying on the couch and watching movies all day. In this dream, you had tamed him and he was relaxed and just wanted to be up under you all day.

You were taken away by your thoughts when Sam walked in, though you were hoping it was Paul. You frowned when you realized who it was and just watched as he walked over to Emily and started kissing her.

You put your head down, not wanting to watch their intimate moment, but your cheeks began to flush because only moments ago you wished it was you and Paul. You looked over at Bella and saw she was looking down too, causing you to grab her hand and squeeze. That was your small attempt at pushing Edward out of her mind.

Yours and Bella's heads both snapped toward the door as your heard footsteps move toward the house. You watched Jacob playfully shove Paul and laugh before they came up the stairs and into the house.

Paul walked by the two of you and sat at the table, grabbing a muffin.

He turned to look at Bella and said, "sorry" with a cocky smirk on his face.

He turned back to eat his muffin but Jacob cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest while he leaned on the doorway.

"To Y/N too," He told Paul sternly, making the boy sigh.

"Oh that's alright-" You started but you were cut off by the sound of Paul inhaling sharply.

He was looking in your eyes, getting really to apologize before he inhaled and his eyes widened in shock.

You blinked uncomfortably as he sat there silently eyeing you. It wasn't how he was looking at Bella earlier, you weren't a target, but you were all he could focus on. You chuckled shyly and used one hand to scratch the back of your neck and used the other to squeeze Bella's hand tightly.

It was then that you noticed that the whole room went silent, making you even more flustered.

"Um, can we talk, Jake?" Bella initiated the conversation, giving you an exit, which you were thankful for.

He hesitantly nodded, tearing his eyes from Paul and focusing on the two of you looking at him, practically begging for an escape route.

"Thank you so much for the muffin," You softly smiled at Emily as you and Bella walked toward the door. You gave everyone a wave and gave Paul one last glance before shutting the door behind you.

The three of you started walking, but it was a while before anyone said anything. You were still flustered by Paul freezing up at the sight of you. It was weird, but still, not the weirdest thing to happen today.

"So... what the fuck was that?" You blurted out, pulling yourself out of your thoughts.

"So, you're a werewolf," Bella said at the same time, hands in her pockets as if this were a normal conversation.

"Last time I checked," He sighed, avoiding your question. "Few lucky members from the tribe have the gene. A bloodsucker moves into town... and the fever sets in."

"Mono," Bella raised her eyebrows, chuckling at his pathetic lie.

"Yeah, I wish."

"Well, can't you find a way to just stop? I mean... it's wrong."

Oh, here we go, the morality police.

"It's not a lifestyle choice, Bella."

"Bella, he literally said it was in his genes," You interjected, giving her a weird look.

You three had stopped walking, and you and Jacob turned to look at the girl who wanted to play God.

You loved Bella, you really did, but she was dating a vampire. You thought it was weird she was trying to police Jacob.

"I was born this way; I can't help it," Jacob continued. "You're such a hypocrite! What, I'm not the right kind of monster for you?"

You silently agreed with Jacob, nodding your head.

"It's not what you are... it's what you do," Bella attempted to argue. "They never hurt anybody. You've killed people, Jake."

"Mmh, but didn't- never mind," You shook your head, deciding not to get involved.

"Bella, we're not killing anyone."

"Then who is?"

"What we're trying to protect you people from. The only thing we do kill. Vampires."

"No, Jake, you can't-"

"Don't worry, we can't touch your little precious Cullens unless they violate the treaty."

You were bored of the conversation and tuned out, trying to kick around a rock that was stuck in the sand.

Had this been any other time, you would've been intrigued but you only wanted answers to your question. What happened the fuck happened with Paul?

"So... you're not gonna answer my question?" You asked once the two sorted everything out.

"That's something you have to talk to Paul about," Jacob answered, making you roll your eyes.

"Okay, well, you know how I get weird around new people. I was weird with you for like a month," You frowned.

"I don't think it's gonna be anything like that. It'll feel natural to be around him."

"Right."

You sat at the lunch table between Bella and Mike Newton as Alice talked about throwing a graduation party at the Cullen residence.

"Another party, Alice?"

"It'll be fun," She spoke optimistically, making her smile.

"Yeah, that's what you said last time," Bella huffed, making you nudge her.

"Well, I'm excited, Alice," You spoke up, giving her a small smile that she returned.

But the smile was quickly wiped off her face as she zoned out and sat back in the chair. Edward turned his head, seemingly zoning out as well, causing you and Bella to turn toward the regular teens next to you, hoping to distract them.

"Hey, Angela?"

"Yeah?”

"Do you need some help with those?" Bella asked as you both reached over to look at whatever she was working on.

You and Bella both shared a look of concern before turning back and helping your friend.

At the end of the school day, you and Bella walked out of the school together, you looking for Paul's truck and her looking for Edward.

You spotted your boyfriend pulling in, and you turned to face Bella, gripping onto the straps of your backpack.

"When Edward spills, fill me in," You told her, making her nod.

"Definitely. I think you're the only one that can communicate with the pack right now. Jacob isn't talking to me so... if anything were to happen, only you could tell them."

You nodded sullenly, hoping it wasn't something that needed the pack's attention. You were hoping it wasn't something big.

Paul pulled up right in front of you, greeting Bella politely, making you smile.

"See you tomorrow, Bells," You promised as you opened the truck door and got in.

"Hi Lover," You greeted your boyfriend and leaned over to peck his lips.

"Hi Little Wolf," He smiled and helped you take your backpack off. He set it in the backseat next to his before pulling out of the parking lot.

He drove from the school to Emily's house, grabbing your bags out of the backseat once you arrived.

You two would do this every day after school: go to Emily's and do homework with the news playing in the background just in case.

"Hi, Em!" You greeted the woman that seemed to be making a bunch of pasta for dinner. "Would you like some help?"

"No, I'm okay. Go get some work done," Emily assured you, and you nodded, going into the living room.

You greeted the boys and wrapped Jacob in your arms. "Hi Brat," You teased and pinched his back.

"Hey," He chuckled and pulled you into a headlock. "Missed me?"

"I saw you yesterday. You better stop before I get Paul to beat you up," You said and pushed him away. "I hate you."

"You don't."

You playfully rolled your eyes before sitting next to Paul on the couch and pulling your homework out of your bag.

"He's so annoying," You mumbled to your boyfriend and rested your head on his shoulders.

"Tuh, I already knew that," He scoffed and kissed the top of your head.

You sighed and started working on your biology homework, tuning everything out until you felt Paul tightly grip your hand.

"What?" You asked, looking up at him before turning to the tv.

The news anchor was talking about all the disappearances in Seattle, and because you knew what you knew, you knew it was something that the pack and the Cullens would have to get involved in.

You frowned and returned Paul's squeeze, quickly growing worried. Is this was Alice's vision was about earlier? Did they know about this? Did they have a plan?

Once the news transitioned to the weather forecast, nobody moved a muscle. You figured they were in shock or were trying to figure out a plan

"Alice had a vision today, at lunch. We're just waiting for Edward to spill," You spoke up and turned to look up at Paul, examining his face.

His face was serious but scrunched with determination until he turned to look back at you. He let the tenseness fall away and gave you a small smile to try to get you to relax.

"I don't want more people getting hurt," You mumbled.

"We're gonna do what we can to protect Forks. Hopefully, it stays in Seattle, but until this dies down we're going to do more patrolling. We can't afford to slack off," Sam spoke sternly.

Paul turned and nodded at his alpha's words but pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if you were to vanish.

The next day, you were walking to the cafeteria with Bella and Edward, and you knew you had to say something before you got to the table.

"It was about the Seattle thing, wasn't it?" You asked the two, clutching onto the books in your hands. "The pack plans on doing more strict patrols."

It was silent for a moment, both of them hesitating to speak.

"What is it?" You sighed, prepared to hear the worst.

"It was about you, Y/N," Bella said then but her lip tentatively.

"What about me?"

"We didn't want to tell you because we didn't want you to worry-"

"But it was only right," Bella cut off her boyfriend, making your eyes furrow in confusion.

You stopped walking, and so did they. You guys let the hallway clear out before Bella continued talking.

"I've told you about Victoria."

"Yeah, and Jacob told us the pack killed her friend with the dreads," You nodded, but you still didn't understand where this was going and what it had to do with you. "What does she have to do with me, or anything for that matter?"

"For some reason, she has her eyes set on you. I was able to talk to Paul when he left your house after dropping you off last night. We agreed to take turns watching you," Edward broke the news to you as calmly and gently as he could.

From the corner of your eye, you could see both Alice and Jasper waiting outside of the cafeteria. It explained why you weren't freaking out, but you wondered what it would be like once you weren't around him. You knew you'd try to stay calm for Paul's sake, but what happens when you get home and you're alone in your room? Will it all hit you then, or will it already be bottled by then?

"Well, what's new, I guess? Forks is in mortal danger, and the supernatural has come together to save the town," You huffed and slapped your hands on your thighs before blowing a raspberry in the air. "Can we grab lunch now?"

Bella and Edward shared a look while you walked ahead, going into the cafeteria.

The day dragged on longer than it usually did, but you were one of the first people out of the building. You didn't even wait for Bella at her locker like you usually do. But you concluded because of what was happening that Paul was waiting outside for you. You figured he was sitting there at least 10 minutes before you got out of class.

Once you were out the school doors, you felt yourself growing tenser. You were out of Jasper's reach, and your emotions were finally starting to hit you.

"Hi, Little Wolf," Paul greeted you, trying to act like everything was normal. He hated making you worry, and you knew that.

"Hey," Your response was short, and you didn't even look in his direction. You kept your eyes on your lap.

"I'm not your Lover?" He teased, pulling out of the school parking lot.

"I just wanna go straight home today," You mumbled.

"The leech told you-"

"Bella told me. I don't want to argue, Paul. I think it's best if I go home."

He wanted to argue, you could tell by the way he was gripping the steering wheel that he disagreed with your decision, but just like you, he didn't want to argue. So, he took you home, no questions asked.

And when you were getting out of the car, you told him you'd drive yourself to and from school tomorrow.

"Y/N-"

"Just until this whole situation dies down. I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me, especially you," You said, and shut the door behind you once you got out of the car, leaving no space for him to argue.

You gave him one last smile before walking inside your house and locking the door once you shut it.

In the evening, you were at your desk completing homework, but you were still so paranoid. Your eyes looked out the window, searching for anything in the trees that might be a threat to you. But there was no threat, just a dark silver wolf laying in between the trees, keeping watch.

You frowned, feeling bad that you were pushing him away, but you didn't want him to get mixed up in your mess. You felt ten times safer with him watching you, but you knew he had to be exhausted; after a long day of school and patrol, who would want to stay up all night being a guard dog?

You moved away from your desk, deciding it was time for bed. You took a shower and did your night routine before laying in bed, pulling the covers over your body.

You didn't get much sleep that night. You didn't get much sleep for the next two weeks. It was hard being without Paul and your friends. You were so scared about something happening in your sleep that you were barely getting any. And the fact that you haven't been face-to-face with Paul in weeks put a real strain on you. Your physical and mental health was all messed up. The separation was difficult, but not being able to explain any of this to your parents made it much harder. You had no one to talk to, and you know you did it to yourself, but the well-being of your friends and family always came first, so you wanted to stick it out despite how you felt.

For two weeks, you stayed alert, listening to every noise, watching every shadow, though your paranoia made most of it up.

But this time, you knew you heard a sound and it made you shoot out of bed. Not hesitating, you reached for your phone and called Paul. You didn't see him resting by the trees when you got up to go shower. You assumed that he was finally getting some rest and now you felt even worse about calling him; the day he decided to get some rest, you were interrupting him.

He didn't answer the phone, which you expected, but you still opened the window in your bedroom, letting the cold air blow through. He'd let himself in once he got there.

You didn't expect him to get there as quickly as he did. It had only been three minutes of you biting your nails anxiously and staying far away from your door.

He came through your door fully clothed and immediately pulled you into his arms, warming up your freezing body and calming your nerves.

"Were you asleep? Where were you? You weren't here," You bombarded him with questions as you dug your face into his chest.

"I was just running a bit late. I was already on my way when you called. Why did you call?" He asked, rubbing your back soothingly.

"I'm sorry, I just- it's already so hard being away from you, and I've been scared, and I thought I heard something downstairs. I don't know," You rambled and held onto your boyfriend's waist tightly.

"If it were a leech, you probably wouldn't have even heard them coming. It was probably just your dad grabbing a snack or something. You know he's always up for a snack," He assured you before kissing the top of your head.

"Yeah, that's true," You quietly giggled and let all your worry dissipate. You kept your head resting on his chest as he rocked your two back and forth. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. Let's never separate again."

"Agreed."

[AN: hey so, I didn't know what to name this so I just named it off of the time it was requested. anyway, I kinda don't like this so uh yeah]

[ignitedbynatsu]

Jealousy pt. 2

A/N: another update whatt 👀 here is the long awaited part 2 of jealousy! I hope you like it @softiebadbitch! I've written a couple more one shots, which are currenlty in my drafts, but I'm gonna be spreading them over the next couple weeks (at least try to because I'm so impatient af) since I have finals and not much time to come up with complete new story ideas.

Genre: maybe a bit of angst? Fluff

Warnings: some swearing, some doubt about the relationship

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡 

He shouldn’t mind, he never spared it any thought before, so why did it bother him now so much? He’s used to your extreme friendliness, so why was it that he was only now getting annoyed by it? Was it because of Laxus? It couldn’t possibly be, he trusted the both of you with his whole heart. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that something didn’t sit right with him when he saw you and Laxus return from the job, shoving each other playfully around. He shouldn’t be surprised that you managed to crack Laxus, you had that effect on people after all, but for him also to break so easily? It just didn’t feel right.

“There you are!” your angelic voice filled his ears, and all of his worries he that had occupied his mind only seconds ago, suddenly seemed to vanish when you placed a short sweet kiss on his lips as a way of saying hello.

“How was the job?” Freed smiled down at you as he waited for you extravagant explanation you always gave when you returned from a mission.

“Laxus was totally exaggerating, he could’ve easily done the job by himself” You playfully roll your eyes at how he made it sound like you were the only one who could’ve helped him with the job “but it was fun! I finally got to see a more personal side of Laxus. I now truly understand why you admire him so much. He really is an amazing mage and surprisingly funny too!”

On the outside, the green-haired mage nodded along as you kept explaining all the ‘cool’ stuff Laxus did during the mission, while on the inside he wanted nothing more but for you to stop talking. He was acting petty, he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself “sounds like you two had a lot of fun, how about we end the day with a home-cooked meal and a movie?”

Freed was ready to leave these weird feelings behind and just bask in your love and affection, but you seemed to have other plans, quite literally for that matter “I would love to, but Laxus had already asked me to join him for some drinks to celebrate the success of the job”

“I see” he pressed his lips in a thin line as his eyes trailed towards the blonde mage. He knew he and his two other friends were planning something by the way they were talking and sneaking a glance at the two of you every so often. He just hadn’t quite figured out what. Did they have a bet that you wouldn’t be able to crack Laxus? Or was it something different?

He opted for the second option when Laxus appeared by your side, not sparing Freed even a glance “You ready to go?” The way Laxus hand rested on your lower back to guide you out of the guild, made the hairs on his arms stand up, but he refused to show any hint of annoyance.

“Bye, love, see you tonight!” You called out to Freed as you let Laxus guide you out of the guild.

The following days, the uneasy feeling never left Freed, in fact, it only got worse. He could feel his calm and composed act break, but he didn’t care. The anxiety and jealousy he was feeling were much more important than a stupid image. He still couldn’t wrap his head around what was going, and perhaps that was the most frustrating part of it all.

He shouldn’t feel jealous, he knows he shouldn’t. He knew you two would never do something to hurt you, he knew that deep down, and yet his mind kept playing tricks on him, sending him down the dark rabbit hole known as doubt.

It was only when Laxus willingly gave you a hug, that he decided he had enough “Okay, what the actual fuck is going on”

You were taken aback by the strong language coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. You didn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that he raised his voice out of nowhere or the fact that he just cussed at you. “I- What?”

“What’s going on between you two? And don’t you dare say nothing. You’re suddenly best buddies out of nowhere and decide to never leave each other alone for more than a second after that. Didn’t you two think that was at least a bit suspicious? You better come clean with me right now, or so help me God” Freed’s eyes were literally shooting fire as they darted between you and Laxus.

You had never seen this side of your boyfriend, and it kind of terrified you. Terrified by how he suddenly blew up without any warning. Did he give you any signs this past week? Were you being a horrible significant other for not hesitating for a moment and take his feelings into account? You should’ve known, but then again, why hasn’t this happened before considering you’re like this with everyone else too?

“Freed, I-“ You were still somewhat speechless, and before you could even sincerely apologize, you heard Bickslow cheering from behind you “finally!”

You whipped your head back so quick, you’re surprised it didn’t give you whiplash as you looked at him and evergreen who were now approaching you three “Took you long enough”

“It’s still less than a week” Laxus shrugged nonchalantly. Freed had cooled down a bit, but his eyes still held a hint of rage in them, “what the hell is going on?”

“Oh my, Freed, you sure get a foul mouth when you break your façade” Evergreen snickered while the said mage shot her a death glare, absolutely not in the mood for her snarky remarks.

“Can someone please tell me, us-” your eyes darted towards Freed for a mere second when you said that before eying your other friends again “-what is going on?

“Right, right. So, Evergreen over here was confused as to how Freed never got jealous over the fact that you’re so friendly with everyone” Once again you were questioning your qualities of being a good girlfriend “and then we realized that we had never seen Freed break his composed attitude under any circumstance-“

“so you thought, why not toy with our relationship?” the annoyance coated every word that left the green-haired mage’s lips. To say that he was disappointed in his friends was putting it mildly.

“It makes us look like bad friends if you put it that way” Evergreen mumbled as she looked away in shame. To be fair, she didn’t think Laxus would actually succeed in his job.

“Because you kinda are, right now” Freed sighed in disbelief at the obvious statement Evergreen just made “and for you to actually participate in one of Evergreen’s scheme’s, Laxus? What did they offer? You know what? I don’t care. Hope it was worth it.”

Freed stormed out of the guild, ignoring the shouts of his friends. You sighed deeply before finally speaking up as well “what you guys did, was kind of messed up, but I’ll talk with Freed about it and get him to soften up a little.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). We really never meant for this to happen. We’re so sorry” Bickslow apologized with the other two chiming in.

“Whether he forgives you guys is up to him, but I’ll see what I can do.” You hummed, ready to leave as well but stopped when you heard Laxus voice. “What about you?”

“Next time when you have an idea like that again, maybe stop and think about our feelings too. See you guys tomorrow” You gave them a small smile and actually left this time.

Once home, you immediately noticed a frustrated Freed, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “I’m home”

“(Y/N), I-“ You stop him before he can muster any more words “stop if you’re going to apologize, don’t. You had every right to act the way you did. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, now that I think about it. I’ve been acting like a terrible girlfriend and for that I’m sorry, I’ll do better from now on. I promise”

Freed quickly got up and took a couple of long strides before stopping in front of you. He placed both his hand on your cheeks, lifting it slightly, so you were looking him in the eyes “No, you stop that right now. You’re not a bad girlfriend, you’re the furthest thing from it. I knew what I would get myself into when I asked you to be my girlfriend. I didn’t expect you to change, nor do I expect that from you now. I’ve let my insecurities taken over whenever I saw you with Laxus, which I should’ve never done since I deeply love and trust the both of you.”

“You know I would never leave you for Laxus, right?” You whispered, scared that if you’d talk any louder your voice would break. “You should really give yourself some more credit. Laxus isn’t superior to you. In any case, you are superior to him”

“You only say that because you love me” he rolled his eyes, but appreciated your attempt at cheering him up nonetheless.

“Maybe, but does that really matter? You’re perfect the way you are, and I love you with every single cell in my body and believe me there are a lot” You joked lightly, trying to get rid of the tense mood, in which you succeeded cause you even managed to get a light chuckle out of Freed. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“And I’m sorry for even doubting you in the first place” He removed his hands from your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head while wrapping his arms around your figure, your hand automatically sneaked around his waist as you laid your head against his chest.

“You know, Bickslow, Ever and Laxus really didn’t mean any harm but that horrible stunt they did” you mumbled as you both swayed slightly from side to side.

“I know, I’ll forgive them eventually, I just want to let them dwell on it for a little bit more.” He hummed in agreement. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him with an amused smirk on your lips, “what?”

“You really do have an evil side when you get ticked off. Remind me to never get on your bad side” you shook your head in amusement before laying your head back on his chest, feeling the vibration of his laughter against the side of your head.