#I think this man is a clown with his own clown car

[starhoneytea89]

Obey me Character head cannons!

Since the games are both shutting down on new content, I thought I would post my initial impressions and head cannons for each character! Keep in mind, I’ve only gotten through the first two seasons of the initial game and only really play the events in nightbringer since I’m trying to go through the story while playing it so some of my head cannons could contradict what is said in that content. This is completely unintentional, I just want to share what I think these people are like!

Now, what better place to start than the first born himself: Lucifer.

- As much as the game makes it seem like Lilith’s sentence was what started the war, I feel like it was more of a ‘last straw’ kind of situation. Initially, I think Lucifer saw problems in the strictness of the society he was a part of.

- The reason with this in my head cannon (since it is known that this story doesn’t impose strict biblical sense of the story) is that rather than having demons and angels be at war due to sin and Lucifer’s initial betrayal, it is because of their bases of existence. Demons are bringers and guardians of chaos, where as “God” and the beings he created to represent him find their logic and understanding in strict alignment and an almost authoritarian understanding of connection.

- Lucifer was fine with this at first, until he had to go down to the human realm, or the divine realm as I like to call it, and fulfill the roll of guardian angel in order to advance politically. After his first human died (which is a story for later), Lucifer returns with grief—something so deep and new that it upsets his whole view of existence. He had no choice but to change. After all, what is it to grieve to a creature that knows no death? Metaphorical or otherwise?

- He doesn’t have enough time to properly process it, and is thrown into babysitting the others, to which they form their bonds, but he never forgets. And suddenly, he can pick things out. He can see what is happening for what they are and what they could be. And ultimately, that is what led to his exile.

- This is why, deep down, he will never fight against Diavolo. He’s seen what it is to step out of line. And despite his ash stained wings, he was an angel. A human may have taught him the beauty of chaos but the loss of his sister reminded him of the need of order. That’s why he keeps her room tidy at the House of Lamentation after all. Time once depicted that there should be eight siblings, so there must be eight rooms, even if one is unoccupied. He now knows better than to question things if he wants to keep his peace.

- Beyond that sad background, I feel like this man loves his fruity mixed drinks. Like, I know this man is supposed to be classy and drink straight liquor and stuff, but I genuinely can’t picture him with anything more than a glass of sweet red wine at the straightest. He’ll still drink gin and whisky, as long as they’re mixed with cherry syrup or some sort of soda. But for the love of his father, keep beer away from this man.

- He has everyone’s everything. Baby teeth? First haircut strands? He had them tucked away somewhere in the HoL. He got them back during negotiations once with the Celestial realm thanks to some of his old comrades taking pity on him since they knew he kept it all. He’s got new stuff too. Leviathan’s first shed tail skin? He’s got it. Beelzebub’s shavings of horn bits from their first growth? He has them. Mammon’s tail feathers the first time he went full demon mode? Tucked away in a small little binder at the back of his closet.

- He has the demon equivalent to early set arthritis in his hands due to always using them to work but also due to him cracking them all the time. The stress he has on a daily may have also factored into it, but who’s to say. It’s actually why he wears gloves. In order to help relieve it on cold nights, he may sneak into the kitchen to heat a pot of boiling water and dip his hands inside. Do expect him to be stricter on curfew those days though, he has an image to uphold even among his siblings and he really wouldn’t want them to catch him with his hands in boiling water.

- He’s never seen Satan as a brother but as a son. He just hasn’t realized it yet. After all, he has known no other relationships beyond his siblings, none that were positive anyways, so he’s always just equated the feelings he’s had about Satan to that. Satan is definitely the favorite ‘brother’ because of this, but truthfully he’s just his child.

- He has nicknames he calls his brothers in his head. And frankly, they’re all rather cute. Mammon is “Goldie” for the small gold strands in his hair and the freckles in his eyes, which he said out loud accidentally once which is where the second brother got the name from for the credit card to begin with. Levi was always “Pip” because of the noise he made with his gills when he lifted his neck out of water. Satan is “Tantan” which he knew would piss the demon of wrath off if he ever tried to use it now. Asmodeus is “Gemma”, and is the only one whom he calls out loud the nickname when alone with each other. Beelzebub goes by “Dismas” in his head because of the sort of gradient his hair and eyes create. Finally, he calls Belphie his little “Castor”.

- He wears the classic cartoon boxers: white base with red hearts.

- When he ties Mammon to the ceiling, he always puts him so he is hanging right side up. Mammon once threw up hanging upside down because of the whole blood pressure thing and so he’s never done it again. Yes he feels guilty. No he’s not going to stop hanging him from the ceiling, Mammon needs some sort of punishment for the shit he pulls.

- Lucifer is secretly an artist. A sculptor to be more precise. Lilith’s grave monument? He did that himself, but he tells his brothers he had it commissioned. That giant skeleton that sits in the corner of his room? It’s actually just an unfinished project that’s been sitting in his room for centuries while he flirts with the idea of finishing it. He had no idea of what it should be though, and it’s gathering dust.

- Loves Mammon’s food. It’s more of a sentimental thing than anything else, because that boy can’t cook for shit. It’s most likely because Mammon is the only one that keeps him fed during crazy times for him under Diavolo, and more often or not brings him meals when he can’t make it to the dinner table, His favorite stuff Mammon makes are these little sandwich sliders, which have a little too much mustard for his liking, but he eats it all anyways.

- That little braided rope belt thing he wears? That’s actually Lilith’s.

- Lucifer likes to hide different treats around the house for Beelzebub to find and follow around at night in an attempt to keep him away from the fridge. Sometimes they’re hidden, sometimes he stands at the corner of a hallway, pulling a donut on a string. It works surprisingly well.

- The white tips in his hair are actually from a fucked hair job the Asmo did on accident while he was trying out hair dye for the first time. Lucifer kind of just kept it because he liked it after all this time.

-When alone, he laughs exactly like Captain Holt from Brooklyn Nine Nine during the marshmallow scene.

That’s it for now (all the ones I can remember off the top of my head), let me know if you want more and I’ll post more of our dearest firstborn or move on to Mammon!

[flowersforbucky]

oil & water

bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.8k

prompt - "If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so."

shout out to @ellemj for her encouragement with this ♡

warnings/tags: SMUT, vaginal penetration, oral sex (female receving), face sitting, mentions of violence, description of blood & wounds, no use of y/n, reader is afab, hurt/comfort trope, bickering & banter, friends to lovers, forced close proximity trope. 18 plus only!

“Roll your window up,” Bucky snaps at you as he turns down the music you had just put on moments ago. “The last thing we need is someone noticing the blood caked all over the entire right side of your body.” 

As if the lack of functioning AC in the twenty-something year old getaway car (an early 2000’s model Chevy Aveo is inconspicuous, according to Sam) wasn’t stifling enough in the south Georgia summer, the annoyance radiating from the brooding super soldier sitting next to you adds an extra ten degrees. 

Sure, Sam. Inconspicuous is the right word to describe a six foot, two hundred plus pound man with a metal arm cramped behind the driver’s seat of the equivalent to a clown car. Bright fucking cherry red and all. 

“It’s 103 degrees outside.” You glare at him from the passenger seat, where you’re using a tattered handkerchief found in the glove compartment to put pressure on the knife wound on your shoulder. “I’m going to have a heatstroke.” 

“You’re not going to have a heatstroke,” he rolls his eyes at you. “That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck.” 

“Ha-ha-ha,” you say under your breath, reluctantly rolling up the manual window with your still bleeding arm. “I got the fucking intel, did I not?” 

You remove the USB drive from its secure location in the cup of your bra and flash it at Bucky. “Though we’ll be lucky if this thing still works after being drowned in boob sweat, since you won’t let me keep the window rolled down.” 

“And nearly got yourself killed in the process.” He grabs the flashdrive from you and grimaces. “We’ll be at the safehouse in less than five minutes, if you can please just refrain from stroking out or bleeding out in the meantime.” 

You glance down at the once white handkerchief clutched in your hand. “I’m not making you any guarantees.” 

You're welcome for saving your ass, by the way, you resist adding. 

Jokes aside, the energy exerted in bringing down over a dozen HYDRA agents in combination with the July heat and the substantial blood loss from your shoulder wound has you feeling woozier by the minute. Factor in a few potentially fractured ribs and a dislocated knee and you're in pretty rough shape. 

As promised, just under five minutes later Bucky parks in front of a small trailer just outside the city limits of Valdosta. It's seen better days, but you don't mind as long as it has semi-functioning air conditioning. 

Bucky is opening your car door and offering you a hand up before you can take in your surroundings. You force yourself out of your seat, ignoring his outstretched hand and attempting to stand on your own, doing your best to ignore the borderline blinding pain radiating from your right knee. 

“Thanks, but I think I can–” 

Your vision goes fuzzy as you stumble forward, right into Bucky's chest. Your hand instinctively clutches the fabric of his shirt as you attempt to regain your balance.

“Let me guess. You're capable of stitching up your own shoulder, too?” 

He gently loops his arm around your waist, slowly walking the two of you to the front door of the trailer. You try to focus on keeping pressure on the gash on your shoulder and not the feeling of his toned body pressed against you. How does he smell so good after hand to hand combat and sitting in that sauna of a car? You're sure you probably smell like a wet diaper that's been left in the sun for–

Bucky opens the door and guides you inside. The interior of the safehouse is surprisingly homey and clean. It's still uncomfortably warm, but offers a nice reprieve from the violent mid-day sun. 

Bucky leads you into the small living space before maneuvering you out of his hold, where you all but collapse onto a suede sofa.

“I guess you do have some amount of good luck, after all,” you mumble, wiping sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“What are you talking about?” Bucky glances at you from over his shoulder as he flicks on the AC. 

“That happening would indicate that I have any amount of good luck,” you quote his sarcastic comment from the car ride. 

“Ha-ha-ha,” he fake laughs just as you did. He rummages through a few cabinets and drawers of the small kitchen before finding everything he’s searching for, then makes his way back to where you are on the couch. 

“Drink this.” He hands you a bottle of water that you hadn't even noticed him grab. For once you don't object to his instructions, uncapping the bottle and gulping down the contents as quickly as you can. 

“You're not having a heatstroke,” he assures you. “But you are going to have to let me stitch up this crater on your shoulder and pop your knee back into place.” 

You sit forward, removing the now fully soaked cloth that you've been holding to your shoulder for the last half hour. 

Bucky winces at the sight of it, handing you a dishrag before opening a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “You might want to bite down on–” 

“I know the drill.” You sigh before putting the rag between your teeth. 

He hesitates for a moment before pouring the clear liquid over the wound. You groan against the rag, your eyes squint shut in pain. You've had your fair share of broken bones and black eyes working in this field, but you don't think you'll ever get used to the pain of getting stitches without the comforts of saline solution and anesthesia.

“I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dabbing the cut dry with a paper towel. 

Your heart skips a beat at the nickname. “It's part of the job. I've come out of missions worse than this before,” you shrug, squeezing the dish rag he gave you until your knuckles go white as he makes the first incision. 

“Never because of me.” 

You glance at him, taken aback by the sudden shift in his tone. His gaze doesn't leave the thread and needle that he's using to close up the gash on your arm - his normally plump pout set into a hard line. 

“You know this isn't your fault, right?” You keep your eyes locked on him. “I saw that guy coming at you out of nowhere and I panicked. I wasn't watching my own back. That's my fault, not yours,” you say earnestly. 

“If you say so.” He glances up for a split second, giving you a tight-lipped smile that doesn't reach his eyes. 

“Is that why you've been such a grouch? You're blaming yourself for me not being careful enough?” 

“Maybe,” he admits quietly. “Or maybe I just hate seeing you covered in blood for any reason.” 

You freeze at the bluntness of his words. You and Bucky have been partners on more missions than you could count at this point - you know that he would have done the same for you if the situation had been reversed; in fact, there had been times where he had taken the brunt of the fight in order to protect you. 

All of those instances suddenly flash through your mind. 

The time he used himself as a human shield when there was a bomb set off during a recon mission at a warehouse in Tokyo. Or when he football tackled you out of the direct line of an incoming dagger during an operation in Portland. Not to mention the time he left a job all the way in Prague unfinished because he merely suspected you had a concussion. 

You had always chalked it up to “that’s what partners do,” but the pained expression on his face as he refuses to meet your eyes has you questioning if there could possibly be more to it. 

No. You’re his partner. He’d do the same for anyone else. He wouldn’t want to see anyone on his team covered in blood if he could prevent it. 

The two of you sit in a thick silence while he finishes stitching you up. 

“There,” he says at last, clipping the excess suture thread with scissors. “Not quite as good as your stitch work, but I think it’ll hold you together.” His voice isn’t as strained as it was moments ago, though you can't help but notice it sounds forced. 

“Thank you,” you tell him, ignoring the way your cheeks warmed the tiniest bit at his compliment. “Now for the really fun part,” you add, staring at your throbbing knee. 

“You’re in luck,” he says, perking up a bit. “I’ve popped my own knees back into place an embarrassing amount of times, so this should be a breeze.” He repositions himself to have better access to your leg, moving off the couch to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of you. You attempt to pull the tight fabric of your tactical pants up enough to give him unhindered access to your knee, but it’s too restrictive, immediately causing you to wince in pain. 

“Fuck,” you huff. “I’m going to have to take these off.” You pop the button at the top of your pants and begin to push them down your thighs before insecurity can get the better of you. You try not to think about the fact that Bucky's never seen you in such little clothing - pants now pushed down to your calves, only your underwear and the bra and thin tank top you wore underneath the tactical vest that you took off as soon as you were in the safety of the getaway car left to cover you. 

Hesitation flashes across Bucky’s face for a brief moment before he scoots over slightly, moving directly in front of you so that he can position his hands on either side of your kneecap. You’re painfully aware of the polar opposite feeling of his right and left hand - his flesh hand is warm and so much softer than you’d expect, his metal one icy and smooth. You aren’t sure which causes the visible goosebumps that now litter your skin.

Maybe it’s not his touch at all. Maybe it’s the way his eyes haven’t left your thighs since you exposed them.

Maybe it’s the fact that if you parted your legs just a few inches, he’d be nestled between them. 

Chill out, you berate yourself. He's just relocating your knee for Christ's sake. 

“On the count of three,” he starts and you brace yourself. “One, two–” 

“MOTHERFUCKER.” You yell out at the same moment your knee creates a loud cracking noise that echoes off the walls of the small trailer. “You said count of three!” 

“Would that really have made it less painful?” He shrugs, but doesn't move from where his knees brush against yours. “I think what you mean to say is “thank you, Bucky, you're a lifesaver and I'm now in your debt.” 

“In your fuckin’ dreams,” you scoff. “I'm going to wash all of this blood and sweat off of me.” You move to push yourself off of the couch, tugging your pants back up as you stand. You can feel his eyes trail up your body as you do, making you feel woozy all over again. You turn away from him, heading towards the hallway that the bathroom is likely located down. 

“I could have done that through your pants, by the way.” 

You freeze mid-step, glancing back at him over your shoulder. “What do you mean?” You snap at him. 

“Your knee,” he clarifies, a hint of undeniable mischief in his expression. “I could have popped your knee back into place through your pants. If you wanted to take your pants off for me so badly, you could have just said so.” 

Just when you thought the safehouse was starting to cool down, your entire body heats up a thousand degrees. You're racking your brain trying to think of a retort when Bucky's ringtone starts blaring from the kitchen countertop. He ignores it, his eyes not leaving yours for what feels like an eternity. 

You finally break the silence. “That's most likely Sam wanting to make sure we're not dead. Should probably answer it.” 

“Probably should,” he smirks, and at last gets up from the coffee table to answer the phone.

You scurry the rest of the way to the bathroom before he can look back at you again, ignoring the sharp pains that radiate from your ribcage and the now dull ache that spreads from your knee. 

You turn the water to cold, and don't get out until you've started to shiver. 

— — — — — 

When you exit the bathroom and step back into the connected bedroom in only a towel, you see that Bucky has done you the kindness of bringing in the bags that had been stored in the backseat of the getaway car. 

You dig through your backpack, pulling out a fresh t-shirt and pair of leggings. From the next room, you can smell the aroma of whatever non-perishable food that Bucky has scrounged together. Despite your growing hunger pains, you take your sweet time combing through your freshly rinsed hair. The thought of looking Bucky in the eye after your last interaction nearly makes you lose your appetite. 

What was I thinking? Oh right, I wasn't thinking at all, otherwise I wouldn't have just pushed my fucking pants down right in front of–

“Your five course dinner is getting cold.” Bucky raps his fingers against the bedroom door, startling you from your thoughts. 

“Be right there,” you call back to him, swiping some deodorant under your arms. You take a glance at yourself in the bedroom’s small vanity mirror and immediately wish that you hadn't – you're cleaner than you were by miles, at least no longer covered in your own blood as well as the blood of HYDRA agents – but your cheekbone is lightly bruised, there's a slit on your bottom lip, and the bags under your eyes make it look like you haven't had a decent night's sleep in a month. 

You take a deep breath and then walk back to the one room that makes up the kitchen, dining area and living room. 

“Beef or shrimp ramen?” Bucky asks as you climb onto one of the barstools on the opposite side of the counter from where he's standing. 

“Hm,” you contemplate, not meeting his stare and instead occupying yourself with another bottle of water that he's placed where you now sit. 

Fucker probably wouldn't fluster me so bad if he wasn't being so damn thoughtful.

“I'll go with shrimp,” you answer, remembering that beef is his favorite.

He slides the bowl across the counter and then hands you a fork. You finally get the nerve to look up and meet his stare that feels as if it weighs two tons. 

“So, what did Sam say?” You try to go for light conversation, twisting the fork around your noodles. “Are we free to get out of here once it's dark out?” 

“Not…quite,” he hesitates, now seeming particularly interested in his own food. “The car battery kind of died.” 

“What do you mean the car battery kind of died?” 

“While you were in the shower, I tried to move the car behind the house so that anyone driving by wouldn't immediately know that someone's here. It started fine, but as I was driving it around back it just.. stopped. Had to push it the rest of the way.” 

You let out a dramatic groan as he continues. 

“I called Sam again and he said the earliest they can send someone to get us is in the morning.” 

“Well,” you exhale, blowing a raspberry with your lips. “We can flip a coin to see who gets the bed?” You ask lightheartedly. This isn’t the first time that you and Bucky have had an overnight mission together, but it is the first overnight mission where the two of you haven’t had your own motel rooms or at least a safehouse with two beds.

He looks at you quizzically, furrowing his eyebrows. “You really think there’s a chance of me making you sleep on the couch? In your condition?” 

“My condition?” you laugh. “I’ve got a few stitches, I’m not dying of cancer.” 

“You don’t think I’ve noticed the way it’s uncomfortable for you to inhale and exhale? You’ve probably got a couple fractured ribs with the way you landed on that cement. If not fractured, then at least heavily bruised. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” 

Between his tone and the look on his face, you know it isn’t up for debate. You throw your hands up in faux surrender. 

“Serving me instant ramen and letting me take the king sized bed?” you say teasingly. “Keep it up and I'm going to think that you're soft on me.” 

His gaze on you is heavy as he takes a long sip of water from his own bottle. “Wouldn't that be a shame?” 

— — — — — 

The rest of the afternoon is spent with you lounging in bed, resting your injuries and reading some cheesy western romance novel that you found in the drawer of the bedside table. 

Bucky keeps to the living room, where you hear a violent sounding movie playing from a TV that has to be as old as you are. 

You tell yourself that you're staying in the bedroom because you need to take it easy and relax, but truthfully you feel suffocated by the tension that has been escalating between you and Bucky since you arrived here. 

A certain level of tension had always been there, you knew deep down. From the first time the two of you met almost two years ago. 

Bucky had been formally introduced to the team just a few weeks prior, and it was his first official mission. An undercover mission - just the two of you. 

Posing as an engaged couple at a party thrown at the estate of a notorious crime boss in order to obtain intel. Pretty straight forward - it was far from your first undercover mission. And then it was sprung on you at the last minute that the man who you'd only met once, less than a month ago, was to be your fiancé for the evening. 

The bastard even went as far as to slip the fake engagement ring on your finger himself. 

“Natasha picked this out. She said it needed to be a princess cut, because that's what you like.” 

You chuckled as he went to slide the rock onto your ring finger. “What? You're not going to get down on one knee?” 

The mission went shockingly smooth, you and Bucky were in and out with the needed intel in just a few hours. But those few hours replayed in the back of your mind more often than you care to admit. 

The way his arm stayed wrapped securely around your shoulder or waist the entire hour that you mingled as guests. How he pulled you into a slow dance to discuss the plan for sneaking into the study on an off-limits floor. The musky smell of his aftershave and the spearmint on his breath. 

And especially the way he referred to you as his “bride” when introducing yourselves to people, on more than one occasion throughout the night. 

“And who is this absolutely beautiful young woman on your arm?” an elderly man with eye boogers and booze on his breath asks Bucky. 

“This is my bride,” Bucky introduces you, giving him your undercover name. “She is beautiful, isn’t she? Most beautiful woman here, if I do say so myself.” 

Saying that Bucky played his part well that night would have been an understatement. Saying that he played his part scarily well would be a more accurate assertion. 

After grabbing the intel and fleeing the scene, neither of you ever mentioned that mission again. Not the lingering touches, smoldering stares - not even the way he shoved you up against the wall of a corridor, cupped your face in his large hands, and kissed you senseless for half a minute when you came close to getting caught sneaking into the private office by security at the very end of the evening. 

“Do you think that was believable?” he asks nervously, his hands still clutching your face as he looks around the hallway for any lingering guards. 

“Ye-yeah,” you stutter breathily. “As believable as it possibly could be.” 

There’s a light knock on the partially open bedroom door that draws you back to the reality of the safehouse. You realize that you’ve been staring at the same paragraph in your book for the last half hour. 

"Yeah?” you answer, bringing yourself to a sitting position. 

Bucky peaks his head around the door, opening it further so that you can see what he is carrying. 

“I’m tired of watching old James Bond movies,” he sighs, glancing between you and the stack of board games in his arms. “I found these in the TV stand.” 

“I kicked your ass in Battleship last time we played,” you remind him. “Do you really want a rematch of that?” 

“How about we make a bet?”

— — — — — 

Half an hour later, you've eaten your own words, now owing Bucky a large meat lovers pizza from his favorite parlor in Brooklyn and two weeks worth of laundry duty when you return to the compound. 

“How'd you get so good?” you demand as he makes the winning attack. “You were so lame at this last time.” 

“Maybe I just let you win last time,” he shrugs with a shit-eating grin. 

You just shake your head in defeat, wincing as you stand up from where you had been playing on the shag area rug in the living room. 

“No,” you declare firmly. “No, I don't believe that. There's no way you'd willingly let me win anything. I've learned that the hard way during hand to hand combat training way too many times.”  

Bucky belly laughs from where he still sits on the floor, his gaze trailing after you. 

You walk over to where he has piled the board games on the coffee table, trying to find something you were confident you could win. 

Monopoly isn't fun with only two players, Risk takes too long — 

Your eyes lock onto a card game peeking out from underneath the Sorry! box. 

You pick it up, turning back to face him with a growing smile on your face.

“Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “I'm over a hundred years old–” 

“What does age have to do with truth or dare?!” You exclaim, sitting back down on the floor once more. 

“I haven't been roped into a game of truth or dare since the 1930's,” he groans. 

“Scared of what you might have to do?” You tease, unboxing the cards. “Or what you might have to admit?” 

He stares at you for a long moment, pursing his lips. The disapproval doesn't quite reach his eyes - you can tell by the way they gleam that he's going to cave. 

“Maybe a bit of both,” he admits. He tousles his fingers through his hair and moves to cross his legs at the ankles. “Fine,” he relents. “One game.” 

You squeal like a kid in a candy store as you shuffle the deck of cards and lay them in a stack between you. 

“Elders first,” you motion to the pile. 

He rolls his eyes, drawing one from the top – dare. 

“Smell another player's armpit,” he deadpans. You're instantly thankful that you remembered to cram a stick of deodorant into your backpack when packing for the mission. 

“Well?” You lift up your arm. “I'm the only other player here and it's not going to sniff itself.” 

Bucky sighs, leaning across the game to put his nose directly next to the opening of your t-shirt sleeve. “Lavender,” he observes after inhaling, giving you an approving nod. “As far as dares go, I got lucky.” 

“Lucky that I showered earlier,” you mumble as you draw your turn, your cheeks warming slightly. 

Truth. 

“Who was your last kiss with and what was it like?” 

Your heart plummets to your stomach as you read the words aloud. Bucky waits impatiently as you fiddle with the piece of paper in your hands. 

“Might I remind you, you are the one who wanted to play this game so desp–” 

You hold up a finger and make a shushing sound, silencing him as he grins menacingly. 

“My last kiss was almost two years ago,” you answer honestly, looking back down at the card to avoid his stare. He can always tell when you're lying, why even try? 

“With a man I barely knew,” you continue. “We had to pretend to be in love for the evening. It was a shockingly easy thing to do. When he pushed me up against a wall and kissed me as a distraction to security guards, I had to remind myself that it was an act. We never spoke about it again. But now two years later, I'm telling him that I think of that kiss often.” 

When you finally look up, you can't decipher the look on his face. Long gone is the mischievous grin from just moments ago, in its place is.. shock? Perplexity? 

“And why exactly have you not kissed anyone else since then?” He asks quietly. 

“Nope,” you say, popping your lips on the p. “That's not how the game works, you don't get to add sub-questions.” 

His eyes don't leave yours as he draws his next card.

His turn for truth. He glances down to read his question.

“Have you ever wanted to have sex with any of the players?” 

Forget your cheeks feeling warm - your entire body feels like it's on fire as you wait for him to answer. 

He chuckles, tossing the card on top of the other two that had already been picked. 

“Every goddamn day since I kissed her almost two years ago.” 

You aren't sure which one of you snaps first. You lunge forward at the same moment that he's leaning across the splay of cards to grasp your face in his hands just like he did in that corridor two years ago. The same hint of spearmint on his breath, a bit more stubble on his jaw, and a sense of desperation that wasn't there before. 

He moves his hands to your lower back, pulling you flush against him as you both sit on your knees. Your own hands find the hem of his shirt, your fingers dancing across the skin of his waistline. 

“I asked you why you haven't kissed anyone since we last kissed,” he murmurs against your lips when he pulls away, both of you breathless. “You don't have to answer, but that..” his mouth moves to the side of your throat where he trails open-mouth kisses across the sensitive flesh of your pulse point. 

“That's why I haven't kissed anyone else, either.” 

A pathetic, small moan escapes past your lips at his admission. In a split second decision, you take control. You place your hands across his chest, pushing him down onto the shag rug that you'd been playing games on just moments ago. He lets himself fall back, pulling you with him. 

You straddle him, positioning yourself directly on his already evident erection. You drag yourself forwards, and then backwards, desperate for friction - he groans beneath you, jutting upwards. 

The fabric of your pants between you feels like a prison. 

You scoot back a few inches - just far enough to give yourself enough room to unbutton his jeans. 

“Wait, wait,” he stops you as you're about to begin pulling down his pants and underwear. You freeze, petrified that you've crossed a line– 

“I haven't stopped thinking about having your thighs wrapped around my head since I saw them earlier,” he says as he hooks his hands around them and hauls you up to his chest. “Take these off and sit on my face.” He tugs on the waistline of your leggings. 

“If you wanted me to take my pants off for you so badly, you could have just said so,” you echo his earlier teasing. 

“I'm asking you now, sweetheart,” his voice has a strained edge to it. “Don't make me beg.” 

Though the notion of him begging has wetness pooling down your thighs, you're too eager to entertain it. 

You stand up, directly above him as he keeps his position on the floor. You shimmy your leggings down your thighs, this time completely removing them and tossing them somewhere behind you. He tugs his t-shirt over his head and throws it in the general direction of your discarded pants. 

With you still standing above him, he leans forward so that his face brushes against the inside of your thighs. He brings his hands to the band of your underwear, hooking his fingers and slowly pulling them down until they're at your ankles. 

You slip them off as he lays back down on the floor. A bit apprehensively, you sit so that your bare pussy is against his hard chest. 

“Just stop me if it's too uncomfortable or if you can't breathe or any–” 

He cuts you off by all but picking you up and hauling you up to his face.

“I wouldn't worry about that,” his voice vibrates against the flesh of your innermost thighs. He tugs you down just one more inch so that his mouth makes contact with your center. 

You gasp out in pleasure as his tongue begins exploring your folds. There's no restraint about it - he sets a brutal pace, alternating between fucking his tongue into your cunt and sucking on your clit. 

You're writhing above him, grinding your pussy against his mouth. You go to squeeze your breasts, pulling your t-shirt off when you realize it's the one clothing article you've yet to shed. 

When he realizes that you're now completely naked above him, he lets out an animalistic groan as he laps a thick lick up your center. 

The vibration, in addition to him now squeezing your ass with enough pressure that he's bound to leave behind fingertip shaped bruises, is enough to send you spiraling to your climax. 

You involuntarily squeeze your thighs around his cheeks, riding out your orgasm as he continues to wrap his lips around your throbbing clitoris. 

You go still for a moment, aside from your heaving chest, as you come back down to earth. 

You climb off of him, your jellified legs nearly causing you to collapse onto the floor next to him. 

He props himself up with one arm, looking down at you. His face is thoroughly glistening with your juices. 

You can't help but think he's never looked hotter. 

A proud grin begins to form across his features as you pull him down to you by the back of his neck. 

You kiss him with as much feverency as you can muster in your post orgasm haze, tasting the semi-sweet tang of your come on his lips and tongue. 

“It's your turn to get these off,” you demand, drawing back from the kiss to pull at the waistband of his pants. 

“Can I at least take you to the comfy bed before this goes any further?” he bargains. “You are still recovering from multiple injuries, you know.” 

“I can assure you that I've never felt better.” But you let him have his way. He stands before picking you up, lifting you so that you can wrap your legs securely around his midsection. His large hands planted firmly on your ass, he walks the short distance to the bedroom. Your nipples pebble as they press against his bare chest. 

He gently places you on top of the comforter before standing back, at last removing his jeans and boxers. His cock springs forward, slapping against his lower belly. 

Your mouth goes dry at the sight. If it had been a long time since you had been kissed, it had been even longer since you had been fucked. 

He crawls onto the bed, hovering above where you lay. You automatically open your legs to allow him between them. 

His eyes rake up and down your body, pausing on your breasts. 

"You're goddamn stunning.” 

Before you can respond, he's leaning down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Rolling it between his teeth, the sensation has you arching your back into his touch. You can feel the tip of his cock jutting against your core - teasing but not yet entering. 

He starts to line himself up at your hole, his eyes locking onto yours as he pumps himself in his hand. He brings his lips down to yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth at the same moment he nudges his tip past your entrance. 

There's a blissful burn as he cautiously buries himself inside you - you're simultaneously thankful that he's going slow and needing him balls deep. He pushes in, inch by inch, until you're filled to the hilt. When he can't get any deeper, he pulls back - and slams back into you all at once. 

You swear you can feel him in your stomach. You look down at where your bodies connect, the sight of him sliding in and out of you enough to have you on the edge of climaxing again already. 

He brings his metal hand to knead your breast. 

"Do you have any idea how many times I've pictured having you under me like this?” He coos. You gyrate your hips to meet his thrusts, causing his eyes to roll back into his head. 

“How many times I've thought about what your little moans would sound like?” 

Your only answer is a gutteral moan of his name as you wrap your arms around him and dig your nails into the flesh of his back. 

“Your pussy feels even more like heaven than I imagined it would.” 

His praises send you over the edge - you're coming for a second time, clenching around him as his thrusts grow messy. He fucks you through your orgasm before he loses control himself, burying his face in the curve of your neck as he spills into you. 

With you still panting and limp beneath him,  his movements gradually come to a stop but he doesn't pull out - instead he flips you to your side and maneuvers himself into a spooning position behind you. 

He peppers soft kisses along the skin of your shoulder, being careful to avoid your stitches, and relaxes beside you. 

“Remind me to dislocate my knee more often,” you joke, processing everything that just happened. 

He snorts, then tilts your head up to meet his gaze. “Remind me to play truth or dare with you more often.” He captures your lips in his, this kiss slower than any of the ones before. 

“I guess it would be weird to make you do my laundry for two weeks now, huh?” He teases, earning a laugh from you.

“You do still owe me a pizza, but I'll be happy to share it with you.” 

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

[chirpy-poppy]

How would the ghouls react to PC wearing their dorm uniform ? I've thought about this too much for my own good. No pressure

Thanks for the prompt! I'm guessing you mean the uniforms they get at the opening ceremony and not just the colored pin/tie (although that gave me an idea, stay tuned). Hope you like this!

Jin - How to make this man’s heart swell. Jin has a territorial personality. Seeing you in the blue that makes you look like one of his (subjects) people makes him feel secure in his relationship with you. He’d stand a little taller than usual and suddenly gets the need to take a walk with you for “exercise” and totally not to parade you around, flaunting that you’re his.

Tohma - “You look very nice.” He’d make it sound like a platitude, but he truly means it. He already considers you as one of the people in his circle, especially since the two of you spend hours in the vault taking care of Frostheim’s internal affairs together, but seeing you dress the part would truly seal the deal. He’s not one to help others if there’s nothing in it for him, but he’d feel inclined to take care of you when you’re dressed like that. 

Kaito - “Are you finally joining Frostheim? With me?” Tears stream and snot drips down his face. Even after you tell him it is just for a mission, he’d relish in the fact that you are matching. He’d try to sneak away with you during the mission to go on a “date” in your “couple’s outfit.” 

Lucas - “What is the occasion?” … “It suits you very well, PC. You should wear this more often.” Your fancy Frostheim skirt is more cumbersome than your uniform one, so he watches out for you even more. Think opening doors, getting utensils for you at the cafeteria, and carrying your bags. 

Alan - Would feel uncomfortable. “You don’t belong here. It’s dangerous.” He’d send you home to get changed. As he’s fixing up a car later that day though, he’d let his mind imagine how it’ll be like if he were a normal guy and you can sit together in class, side by side, and walk back to the dorms together. 

Leo - Starts streaming as soon as he catches sight of you. He’d come up to you talking like you did all this just for him. Showers you with sweet compliments for his viewers. When he’s done though, he’d mock you. “Why are you dressed like me? Are you in love with me or something? Ew, please don’t. I don’t want to be involved with an NPC.” As if he didn’t just force you to be involved with him for a 20 minute stream.

Sho - “Senpai? Is there a mission?”He wouldn’t compliment you outright, but he might compliment the clothes. Might hyper-fixate on one article so he’d have an excuse to keep looking at you. “That jacket looks really aerodynamic.” “It’d probably let Bonnie go even faster. Want to test it out?” If it is for a mission, he’d actually stand up to Leo if the vice-captain opposes him being partnered with you.

Haru - Might actually cry. He’s probably the one who got you the uniform, and he takes it as a green light to get you to help with some of the tasks around Jabberwock. Of course, he’d customize the uniform so it’ll accentuate your… features. Haru keeps his eyes narrow so you can’t tell which way his pupils are pointing.

Towa - Very pleased that you match. During the day, he’d drag you everywhere with him because you are twinning, and twins do everything together. He’d even drag you across the mud because Haru cannot complain about him getting your actual uniform dirty now. At night, he tells you how adorable you are. He’d note how the clothes don’t make the person since he’s very strong but you still look so weak in the jumpsuit.

Ren - Confusion. Why would you voluntarily wear something like that? He makes a disgusted face at you and yeets away as quickly as he can because this probably means you’re meeting up with Haru, and Ren is not about to entertain “that clown.” However, the next time he has to put on his own jumpsuit, he’d feel less bad about it and his own situation. But then he’d stand in front of the mirror in his green get-up and wonder why he doesn’t look nearly as cute as you in it.

Taiga - Might mistake you for a Sinostra student. He’d have an even harder time trying to remember who you are since he’s not used to you wearing those clothes. When he finally comes around his memories, he’d pull you into his lap to play poker as usual. He doesn’t have much of an eye for fashion anyway, so he wouldn’t act much differently than usual.

Romeo - “Huh. You finally don’t look like you walked out of the dumpster.” Takes you to his office to take a good look at your outfit. Will give a few critiques (obviously), but also will help you fix up your fit. By the end of the day, you are ready for the Met Gala. He might even pamper you a little bit, doing a face mask with you and dabbing some serum onto your face. You’d feel like a million dollar purse poodle, but you’re his million dollar purse poodle, and he’d personally make sure you look the part.

Ritsu - Boy’s elated. Takes it as a sign you are committing to Sinostra and bringing them the Laurel Crown as his business partner. The fact that you look stunning in it is but the fine print of this whole thing. However, if you’ve ever met Ritsu, you’d know he pays close attention to fine print.

Subaru - Tea party! He’d quickly put on his own robes if he isn’t in them already and bring you to Hotarubi’s terrace with some fancy daifuku and tea. “You look very nice, PC.” He finds eye contact a little easier that day. In fact, he keeps his eyes on you the whole time. Despite his social awkwardness, the beauty and grace you extruded while in those robes spoke to his kabuki culture and had him enraptured.

Haku - He was probably the one who tricked you into putting on the garment with the Fox Robe. “Now we look like a couple,” he’d say with a wink. He’d do this around the time of the spring festival so now you ‘have’ to go visit it together otherwise it’ll be such a waste of a good opportunity. Walks under cherry blossom trees so he can pick petals out of your hair for you. Oh no! There’s too many people here. Better hold hands so you don’t get lost!

Zenji - “You look like an absolute doll, my dear!” Walks/floats in circles around you like a satellite, taking in your new look from all angles. “You look like the first flower that blooms after a harsh winter! You breathe life and hope into the hopeless!” Non-stop poetic(?) compliments accompanied by a biwa. Expect to have your ears burning by the end of the day.

Ed - “This reminds me of the gothic era. I must say though, you manage to pull it off better than most of the children I saw back in the days.” There’s a video playing on his tablet, but he’s watching you instead as you go about cleaning his room. Might actually remember to warn you about mysterious liquids in his room so you don’t soil your clothes. 

Rui - You were supposed to look ghoulish and scary in your Obscuary get up, but Rui still finds you super cute. Then again, he finds you cute even when you’re just breathing. Takes a million pictures together. “PC, this just calls for a romantic walk through a graveyard. They say fear makes the heart grow closer!” He’d insist you stay over for the full Obscuary experience. You’d wake up to a full spread of breakfast and another Obscuary outfit hand tailored by yours truly.

Lyca - “You’re wearing more fur than usual. And more purple. Hey! Are you joining our house?” Lil pup would be so excited but try to hide it beneath his scowl. Since he didn’t get placed into the same house as Subaru, he really wants a friend as a dorm mate. Since you are human, he’d also be happy that Obscuary seems less like a place for creatures.

Yuri - “Don’t think you can become the assistant of the great Yuri Isami just because you are dressed like that.” Despite what he says, Yuri would take you around Mortkranken, showing you all the specimens and teaching you how to use the machines. “You better come back here tomorrow immediately after class so you can put some of what you learned to good use. You’d better not waste my efforts!” Oh, and you better wear that outfit again too. You’re supposed to wear lab attire in the lab, after all.

Jiro - “Take it off.” What he meant is for you to put on the patient gown so he can conduct his examination. The patient gown is basically your Mortkranken uniform any other day since that’s all you’re in whenever you go there.

[respectthepetty]

Petty, I have a wild ass Jack and Joker theory, and I need to know what you think because we often end up in the clown car together, lol.

There's been a lot of talk/fears about Joke (and Toi Ting), now that we know character death is on the table - I'm not worried Joke will die (I am terrified they will gut us with Toi Ting but oh I hope not). I'm not saying that Joke isn't about to feel so responsible for what has happened that he's gonna get reckless with his life, because I absolutely think he will.

I think he's absolutely about to do some very stupid shit that could be his life in real danger as penance.

But I've been thinking for a while - since your initial posts about Hope and Save and their names - that Save is going to die. And now that I just skimmed a post that basically said that Joke and Save are the same character in different fonts and Save's guilt in episode 10, I'm absolutely positive.

Save is going to die.

Hope will live, because he has too. Without hope, we have nothing. (I also have a tangential theory that Save will die to save Hope, so...)

Thoughts?

Why not a third secret option? Why can’t everyone live? Since the show killed Jennie’s character, and the man who tried to run away with his few dollar bills died too, let’s just believe everyone remaining will survive! Even more, if Boss survives, then everyone BETTER live because no shitty father should survive when the possibility of a child dying is on the table. So I'm going to aim high because

Fortune Favors the Monkey King

Move over, Kitty! I'm driving this clown car straight to the opera house.

Because this is a Chinese opera.

We already know there is a Chinese influence in this story, as @veemark pointed out about the meal Joke ate with Jack and his grandma.

So with that in mind, in the fourth episode, when Nang punished the men for hurting her people, she drew the "09" stick (but she said nine-zero), which meant the men had to perform the Chinese opera of the Monkey King, which people in the tags thought was sooooo ridiculous!

In that same episode, Jack received his fortune, which was number 9 and stated, "When the fool changes black to white, the fate of the forgiver will change"

Now, skip to episode 9 when Joke gets "The Fool" card and changes the fate of Jack, the person who forgave him, so Jack's fortune was right.

Now, in episode 9, we also get the iconic team name "The Four Little Pigs"

And this is where the light bulb turned on because this is Journey to the West.

Journey to the West is an epic Chinese story that is 100 chapters long about a group of heroes having to complete a certain amount of tasks to achieve enlightenment.

The main character is Tang Sanzang who is basically a saint who wants to bring good to all the land and who everyone is in love with and wants to marry. We are introduced to him in chapter 9 of the story. He is the heart.

The first person he meets on his journey is the Monkey King, aka Sun Wukong, who was so great at being the best trickster that he became overconfident and ended up getting put in heavenly jail for 500 years. The first chapters of the story are actually about him. He is foolish, but he is also the mastermind.

He has a daughter, Yuebei Xing. She has her own story, Journey to the South. She is a badass. She fights monsters and lives to tell the tale.

The Monkey King is easily the most powerful of the bunch, but Tang Sanzang doesn't like the Monkey King's methods because they are immoral, so there is a gold ring involved that keeps him in check.

Or maybe it's this ring.

I think it's the second ring because a goddess, who keeps helping them along the way, helps them with the ring too. She is also cool.

Along the journey, they meet Zhu Wuneng, aka Pig. He is a smart fighter but he is greedy and selfish so he keeps taking shit he isn't supposed to, which constantly gets them in trouble. He is human nature (the world).

There is Sha Wujing aka Sandy, who was once a god, but shattered a crystal and ended up banished to earth to be a mortal. He is conformity without thought (the moon).

And finally, there is Bai Long Ma, who is a horse that they ride for transportation. He is human will (the star).

There is also a princess somewhere in there who must be saved from a marriage.

The group meets obstacles along the way, and lots of crazy shit goes down, but after 14 YEARS they finally come to the end of their journey.

And on their journey to achieve enlightenment they meet a squire whose loved one is kidnapped with the possibility of murder and another squire who is murdered and his wife is pissed about it because she did everything to make sure he wouldn't be harmed.

Now, if you gasped because you think Hope (or Save) will die, well . . . the number 14 fortune was Hope's.

The fortune was given in episode four which is the same episode Jack got his fortune, but it seemed like Hope's fortune played out in the same episode when he found Joke right across the hall staying with Jack.

But the thing is, in the Chinese story, regardless of which squire it is, they don't just need the Monkey King; they need the Monkey King's help.

So the Monkey King goes to the underworld to get the loved one back and succeeds (both times). But he still needs to save our saint!

Remember, the group has to do a certain number of deeds to bring peace to the land, so the group goes in to save their leader, and the ONLY reason they make it out is because all of the people they have helped along the way (especially the people the Monkey King has helped) return the favor and save them.

By saving others, they saved themselves.

So . . . I don't think anyone else is dying. However, it's been YEARS since I read a very condensed version of this story in Asian Rhetorics, and @journeytothewestresearch's blog helped me piece some of what I forgot together.

So I could be wrong, and everyone dies.

But I don't think so.

*fingers crossed that fortune favors the bold Monkey King*

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Can you imagine a fake dating scenario where you hire Lloyd to pretend to be your partner for a family gathering because you can’t stand your family and want to spend the night watching him gleefully terrorize them? 🤣

Hehehe I wrote this on the bus...

Do You Trust Me?

No explicit warnings. Comments and reblogs always welcome. Love you all! 😍

"Look, I need you on your worst behaviour," you say as you face the grey brick manner.

"You don't gotta ask me twice, toots," Lloyd comes around the front of the car to meet you. "I'll be sure to pay extra attention to the oysters."

You want to sigh and smack him in the face. That's a common feeling towards this man, you're sure. Yet you hate to admit, you need him. Just for tonight. You don't think your father could ever tolerate him longer than that.

"Come on," he taps your ass and you yipe.

"Hey!" You sneer.

"Gotta make it believable. Besides, gotta get my shots in where I can."

"Not part of the deal, Hansen." You push his hand away.

"Ah come on--"

"No, you got your money so stop."

"You know, if you want them to buy it, you're gonna have to play along. Spare a few smooches," he hooks his arm around you instead.

"Yep, and I'm dreading it." You charge forward, knowing it's too late to back out now.

You just need him to be himself. He never really has a problem with that. He is shamelessly genuine.

As you approach the door, it opens from the other side. Belinda, the resident maid, lets you in, greeting you with a smile and the offer to take your coat. Lloyd helps you out of your jacket before he removes his own. He's being... too helpful.

You look at his deep blue velvet blazer. He even dressed well. Goddamn, he couldn't find a pair of slides and some socks?

"Cut it out," you whisper as you follow Belinda.

"I'm not doing anything," he hisses back.

"For once," you snip.

He laughs softly and takes your hand as you enter the bright dining room, more of a hall. The chandelier shines over the polished table, gleaming off the cutlery and candelabra. So ostentatious but that's your parents.

"There you are, dear," your mother strides over, "we were afraid you wouldn't make it."

"Got her here in one piece," Lloyd declares, "all to see her beautiful sister."

"Sister?" Your mother gasps and touches her chest. "Nooo, I'm her mother. Oh silly. You must be the fiance?" She preens.

You send Lloyd a piercing look. He's charming when he tries but why is he doing that?

"Could've fooled me," he grins and takes her hand, "honored."

He kisses her knuckles and you almost recoil. She giggles. Your mother. A giggle. Like a school girl.

"Where's dad?" You ask. He's harder to impress.

"He's around. He was just going out to get--"

"Ah, you're here," your father's staunch tone carries across the high ceiling. You turn to meet him. "And this is your... addition."

He nods at Lloyd and offers his hand. The shake, veins bulging in their masculine tango. Your father hums and pulls the cigar from behind his ear.

"Lloyd Hansen, sir," your plus one introduces himself. "Is that a black dragon?"

Your father squints and dips his chin again, "you know your cigars?"

"I'm a casual purveyor, no enthusiast by any means."

"Hansen," you cough and touch your throat. "I mean, honey," you tug on him. "Can I talk to you?"

"Ah, sorry, sir, she's the boss," he says to your dad and turns to you, "yes, dear?"

"Come here," you growl and drag him away.

You take him to the corner and face him, "hullo? What are you doing? You said you would ruin this. Okay? I need out of this bloodline."

"Pfft. You don't know what you got, toots," his eyes scan the walls. "This is spectacular--"

"No, shut up," you whisper sharply. "You promised-- I paid you. Alright? I just need you to get me out of this dumb arrangement. I don't get my trust unless I marry, well, if my fiance is a clown, my parents might just pay me to call the whole thing off--"

"That's a good deal. How much is the trust?"

You tweak your brow and puff out in exasperation, "Hansen..."

"Ah, you know me, baby," he winks, "I'm no good at doing what I'm told. Besides...." he runs his hand down his chest; a designer tie under the velvet and looks around. "Googled this place and well, I like what I see." He turns back to you, "don't look so heartbroken, toots, it's not just the money. I got me a wife with a hot ass to boot."

You gasp and raise your hand. He catches it and cradles it with his other. He kisses it and chuckles.

"Don't worry, you'll get a full refund," he slithers.

[ladykailitha]

Spooky season is here and I was just thinking about that tiktok (maybe) of the couple at the haunted house where the guy pushes the girl onto the feet of the ax wielding haunt and then the girl and haunt have a conversation that ends with the girl chasing the asshole with the ax and the haunt happily following her.

But make that Steddie. Steve as the girl. Set between seasons 3 and 4, but in a world where Steve going on a date with a man is surprise not a thing of revulsion (as in people would surprised that he was dating a guy having been a ladies man in high school, but no one would give him shit about it). Because it's my sand box, damn it. I make the rules here!

*

Steve wasn't sure what possessed him to go on this date with Jeremy. He didn't like haunted houses. He had seen too many real horrors in his life be frightened of fake ones. But Robin said he could pretend to be scared and cling to the guy's arm, maybe even get a kiss out of it.

What he wasn't expecting was for it to actually terrify him. He was clutching Jeremy's arm the whole way through, chanting in his head "don't hurt them, it's not real." Over and over again whenever the urge to push the actors away or in one extreme case when they were in the haunted hospital break the doctor's nose.

The actor looked too much like Dr Brennan, and while the patient on the gurney wasn't a girl or even had shaved hair, but Steve's protective instinct went into overdrive. It took every ounce of self-will Steve had to keep clutching Jeremy's arm.

They finally hit a room that didn't look so bad. It had a wood floor and four garish statues, one in each corner. Their fog machine was working in high gear but seemed to collect around one figure in particular.

It held an ax over its head, its mouth open in a silent scream. The robes that gathered around its sandled feet were perfectly rendered in stone. The sleeves of the robe revealed a couple of bat tattoos on the right forearm.

Steve was entranced, he let go of Jeremy's arm for the first time since they started and took a step toward it.

It was then the actor jumped off his pedestal and swung his ax down.

Jeremy did the inexplicable. Maybe even outright despicable thing. He pushed Steve forward into the waiting arms of ax murder. Steve stumbled landing on the actor's feet.

"Whoa!" the actor asked. "Are you okay?" He put the ax down and helped Steve get to his feet.

"Did he really just shove me at you to save his own ass?" Steve asked in shock.

The actor cocked his head to the side. "That's what it looked like to me. I hope that was a friend and not a date..."

Steve winced. "Sadly, the latter."

"Fuck, dude," the actor said. He spotted the ax. "You want to get revenge?" He picked up the ax and handed it to Steve.

Steve laughed. "Hell yeah!"

He ran after Jeremy, very plastic ax in hand, the actor cheering him on.

The next room was holding Jeremy so that he wouldn't be split from Steve and gotten lost. It was full of evil clowns. Something that apparently Jeremy was terrified of, judging by the screaming he had been doing.

The actors spotted Steve coming at their prey with an ax and Eddie cheering him from behind, they immediately clocked what had probably gone down. They let Jeremy pass them and two of the clowns broke off to chase him out of the haunted house, gaining cast members with each passing room (still enough remaining to scare other patrons but obviously gaining a crowd to hound this guy.)

He exited the haunted house screaming obscenities at Steve and the actors. The crowd laughing and pointing. He got into his car and drove off.

The smile slid off Steve's face. "Fuck. There goes my ride home."

The ax murder laughed as all the other actors went back inside. He pulled off his hood to reveal a mess of dark brown curls and grey face paint around his eyes on his lips. "I've gotcha, big boy."

"Eddie Munson, right?" Steve asked when he finally placed the face.

"Aww," Eddie cackled. "You do remember me."

Steve scoffed. "Kinda hard to forget."

Eddie's grin grew big. "Duly noted." He scratched the back of his head. "I am sorry about the shitty date though."

Steve shrugged. "It turned out more fun then I thought it would."

Eddie cocked his head again. "True. It's not every day you get chase away a bad date with plastic ax."

Steve handed it back to him. "Shouldn't you be getting back? Won't the other patrons find it odd when the room is empty of scares?"

Eddie smiled slyly. "Who says I left my post unattended?"

Steve's eyes went wide. "How many more of the statues are actors?"

Eddie leaned forward into his space. "I'll never tell," he said sing-song.

Steve laughed.

"Just let me inform my boss I'm taking you home and clean up this makeup, I'll get you home, Stevie," Eddie said.

"You don't have to do that," Steve mumbled. "I'm sure I could call someone."

Eddie shook his head. "Nah, I've got you."

"Thanks."

Ten minutes later Eddie was back on the pavement standing next to Steve. He was back in his usual shredded black jeans and leather jacket. But he wore a denim vest over top of it.

"I like the vest," Steve murmured. "I like pins and things."

"Patches," Eddie said.

Steve hummed his confusion.

"The other things are patches," Eddie explained.

Steve smiled. "That's cool."

Eddie pulled up to Steve's house without asking for directions.

"Should I ask how you knew that?" Steve asked as he got out of the van.

Eddie just waggled his eyebrows as he got out of the van too.

"You gonna walk me to the door, Eds?" Steve asked with a smirk.

"These woods behind your house are pretty fucking scary, dude," Eddie said with a huff of laughter.

Steve just shook his head and bit his tongue to avoid saying exactly how much.

They got to his door and Eddie pressed a kiss to Steve's lips.

It was sweet and warm. "What was that for?" Steve asked, breathlessly.

"Isn't that what you do at the end of a date?" Eddie asked with a teasing grin. "Walk them to door and give them a kiss good night?"

Steve laughed. "Yeah. Yeah it is. Good night, Eds."

"Good night, Stevie."

Eddie walked to his van. "If you want to go on a date that doesn't end you chasing your date with an ax, you know where to find me."

Steve grinned. "I might just take you up on that. Provided it's not another haunted house."

"Don't worry, baby," Eddie said with grin. "I'm loyal. Just a one haunted house kind of guy."

Steve shook his head and unlocked the door. Before he close it behind him he could hear Eddie celebrating, cheering and hollering.

Robin was never going to believe him when he told her how his date went.

But that's okay. She was right. It was fun.

*

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @itsall-taken @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @vecnuthy

[illubean]

Hi, I just stumbled onto your blog and I love your writing. If you’re accepting requests then can I please request Chorollo, Illumi, and Feitan with a s/o reader similar to Shizuo Hewajima from Durarara. Basically they’re crazy strong without any enhancements and when they get angry their known to throw cars, vending machines, street signs, etc. maybe they get caught in the cross fire when the reader is attacking someone who pissed them off and are amazed by the readers natural strength. Please and thank you.

HXH W/ a ShizuoHewajima!S/o

Characters: Illumi Zoldyck, Chrollo Lucilfer, Feitan Portor Type: Crack, Headcanons, Gn!Reader

i never actually watched Durarara but...hes kind of fine.....

Warnings: violence but it's silly

Illumi Zoldyck

you guys met under odd circumstances

he was out with Hisoka for...whatever reason and both of them turned around at the sudden scream of the magicians name

his face goes paler than it already is before he turned to Illumi and was like "Well, I gotta run now. Tata!"

and you are literally sprinting after the clown at full speed wielding a stop sign that still had bits of concrete attached to it's base

and Illumi's like that's weird I don't sense any aura from them

the next time he encounters you is at a bar, where he was to meet his red haired companion once again

you apologize for him having to see you chase down Hisoka like that, explaining that you don't particularly like violence but your anger get's the best of you

he was already intrigued that you were assumedly able to rip a stop sign out of the ground so naturally he asks you about it

"So I take it you're an enhancer?" "Enhancer of what?"

now he is even more interested

do you have some sort of nen ability that even yourself didn't know about?

and then Hisoka is like no, they just strong like that

and he's like Oh.

every time he has seen an exhibition of your strength, Hisoka had always been on the receiving end of your wrath

and he decides that even though you may or may not be nenless, you are powerful enough to be made into his spouse one day

Chrollo Lucilfer

bro was in a disguise just walking around town when he first met you

as he was walking he saw some dude get tossed through a shop window with a table following suit

"AND STAY OUT YOU SON OF A BITCH! I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR YOUR SHIT"

Chrollo peeked through the broken to see you standing there, angrily and seemingly underpaid

and he was surprised that it was you who managed to throw both a grown man and a table through a window and across the street

you seemed like every average person so how the hell did you even do that?

and being the crazy yet curious guy he is he steps in through the broken window and you're like oh fuck that was unprofessional

and you chat and you tell him you don't like absolutely bodying people like that but your body has a mind of it's own when angry

and you apologized to him for almost catching him in the crossfire

bro asks for your number then boom you start dating

and he's learned how to avoid ticking you off

yeah, sometimes he makes you mildly angry and gets a mug or two chucked at him but he has yet to be on the receiving end of a literal boulder or large household appliance

Feitan Portor

it was him

he was the one that managed to piss you off

how? who knows

but you are chucking very large pieces of rubble in his direction and he's kind of regretting whatever he said though he'd never admit it

he's encountered many strong people in his life but you're lifting literal boulders WITHOUT nen?

scary

he's probably watched you have a lifting competition with Uvo and win

how the hell did you win against a literal beefy giant!? he will never know

at some point in yorknew, you lifted an entire police car above your head and tossed it like it was nothing

and he develops some sort of silent respect for your strength

he thinks its kind of hot

sorry i have no clue where to go with this

[thezombieprostitute]

The Arrangement

Summary: Jake's done a lot of things to keep his sister, and then his niece, safe from his parent's influence and manipulation. If he wants to keep them safe, he has to marry you.

Warnings: Bad parents, Disgusting comments of a sexual nature. Let me know if I missed any!

Chapter 1 -- Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Your mother rushes into your room, followed by her many assistants. "It's today," she tells you. You give her a confused look and she rolls her eyes. "The marriage. It's happening today so you'd best dress up. My ladies will do your hair and makeup so you can look somewhat decent for your new husband."

"Yes, mother," is all you can say. Any attempts at pointing out you'd had no notice would be futile. And should you dare try to state a preference in your looks it would be immediately dismissed, paired with an insult. Best to just comply and do as she says. You make sure to follow the instructions of the hair and makeup team. They have to put up with your mother, too, so you always try to be polite to them.

As soon as they finish your mother shoves you in front of a mirror. "There," she coos. "Don't you look so lovely?"

You think you look like a clown. Like a lesser copy of her. "Yes, mother. Thank you."

"Would have gotten you a better dress but you refused to lose weight," she sighs. You bite your tongue. The doctor said you were healthy, that should be enough. But not for her.

"Now," she continues, "we will be meeting your father and brother at the Jensen estate. Apparently they've already go the paperwork and notary crap sorted out. Remember to walk gracefully, be polite, and for the love of everything, smile. I don't need my daughter's wedding photos to look like a funeral had happened!"

"Yes, mother."

Jake is really trying to keep calm. His father, father-in-law and brother-in-law are all drinking to the "marriage" happening this afternoon. Apparently they're just waiting for the bride and her mother to finish getting ready. Jake is scared she's going to be just like his own mother: power hungry, demanding, backstabbing, cold. Meeting the bride's family has not helped assuage his concerns. If anything, it only further drives his conviction that he did the right thing, breaking his sister's engagement. The only thing keeping Jake calm is Clay's presence. Having an ally makes a world of difference.

Montgomery, his father-in-law, is already three drinks in. "And as a wedding gift to the happy couple, your father and I have purchased a penthouse and a car that you won't be embarrassed to be seen in."

"Are you ashamed to be seen in an American classic?" Clay raises an eyebrow.

"It's a pinto," Travis, the brother-in-law, scoffs.

"Exactly," Clay calmly says. "An American classic."

Travis rolls his eyes before turning to Jake, "I'm kinda disappointed you agreed to this thing. I was kinda hoping for that niece of yours. You know, once she turns 18. The young ones are so much easier to train."

Jake's gripping his glass so tightly his knuckles are white. He has to behave, it's in the contract. And punching his brother-in-law would not be behaving.

Thankfully Clay has his back. "Young man, you've got problems. I'm specifically talking in the bedroom, but I'm sure you've got plenty of problems outside as well. If you need some lessons on how to please a woman, I'm happy to give you some pointers."

Travis glowers at him but Clay just smirks.

A knock at the door breaks the tension in the room. An attendant comes in, "the bride is here."

The first time you see Jake, your heart falls. He looks angry, mean. You didn't have much hope about being treated well to begin with but this just solidified it.

The first time Jake sees you, his own heart does the same. You're the spitting image of your mother. He mentally prepares himself for a life of being scolded for never being enough, a life of being cheated on, a life without love.

The documents are signed and notarized. The fake smiles are pasted on for the photos. Jake is given the keys to both the penthouse and the car. Clay promises to meet them there, driving his pinto.

You and Jake sit silently in the car. Both wanting to cry.

Chapter 1 -- Chapter 3

Series Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @ashdoctor; @delicatebarness;@ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[ode2cheol]

now i’m next to you ..

florist!jeonghan x f!surgeon!reader, 5.3k words fluff, angst, reader’s family sucks, hurt/comfort, slow burn (?), mentions of surgery obviously, a little suggestive right at the end, part of waves will take us away series !

being a surgeon was no doubt tough, and you definitely found the work rewarding enough as it is, but the mysterious flowers left on your desk (a scribbled heart in place of a name of who it’s from) are definitely a plus too

“hi mrs park, this is the bouquet you wanted” jeonghan smiled at the elderly lady, as far as he knew, she was visiting her granddaughter that had recently given birth, “congratulations, for you and your granddaughter”

“oh thank you jeonghan! you’re always such a kind young man, sometimes i wish i had someone like you in my family” jeonghan laughed happily at her comment, cheeks flushing a cool pink. he was somewhat used to it at this point but it always made him sheepish.

jeonghan owned a flower shop that was a ten minute drive from the hospital. because of this, he got orders often delivered there. he knows he could just hire someone to do deliveries, it’d make things a whole lot easier for him, but the feeling of being able to do this for people himself always leave a warmth in his chest, especially when they pass him later to say how much they loved his flowers.

“hey jeonghan!” jeonghan looked around to find seungcheol and joshua waving him over, he smiled before walking to meet them.

“another order?” seungcheol asked taking a sip of his coffee.

“yep, you guys on break?”

“uh huh, and before you ask, no yn isn’t. she’s in the surgery room right now” joshua told him, a small smirk tugging at his lips, a matching one working it’s way on seungcheol’s too.

“shouldn't you both be texting your girlfriends or something?” jeonghan groaned, “thanks for stealing my two best friends by the way, really appreciate it”

“look maybe that’s what you need to finally make a move on yn. you’ve been trying to for what? ten months?” seungcheol told him pointedly.

“nine months and eighteen days, but hey who’s counting?” jeonghan deadpanned, “besides, what makes you guys think i even want to date yn? huh?”

his two friends stared at him unimpressed for a few seconds. he’d spent the better part of the last year sticking around the hospital longer, even if his deliveries were done, just so he could spend a little more time with you.

“okay i do want to date her.. but that’s got nothing to do with you two clowns!” jeonghan hissed. “and the two of you better not say anything because she’s headed here right now” speeding up when he caught sight of you. “yn! hi! how’ve you been?” a smile plastering on his face automatically.

you smiled at this sight of jeonghan with your two work friends, joining them quickly.

“jeonghan hi! i’ve been good thanks, just a stressful day, how about you?” you smiled at him, the stresses of the day melting away with ease.

“stressful?” jeonghan frowned. it was clear from your voice how the day had taken a toll on you, “good thing i know the perfect thing for you when you’re stressed! are you free right now?” he whispered the last part to you, grinning when you nodded, immediately dragging you somewhere.

jeonghan had taken you to his car, ensuring you the entire way that it’d be worth while.

“okay, close your eyes” jeonghan cooed causing you to roll your eyes, making an exaggerated show of covering your eyes with your palms. “you can open them now”

when you opened them, jeonghan held a beautiful small bouquet of jasmines in his hands toward you. “they’re known to be stress reliefs, thought you might like them”

jaw slightly agape, you stared at jeonghan in awe for a few seconds, “they’re so pretty jeonghan, thank you” you told him gratefully taking the flowers from his hands. slowly, the guilt started to creep up in you, “but really- you didn’t have to! here let me pay you-”

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it. i hope you like them yn” he told you warmly, fondness swimming in his eyes.

clearing your throat you told him it’s about time you head back in, the both of you walking back to the hospital together. when you went back to your office, jeonghan headed back to his two friends.

“guys this sucks” he told them dejectedly, frown pulling at his soft features. “she’s totally not into me. like at all”

“han, you’re being dramatic. she definitely likes you, she literally always waits for you to get here” joshua reassured him, rubbing a hand on his shoulder for good measure.

“no shua you don’t get it! she likes me but just as a friend- which i’m okay with don’t get me wrong, but i know she doesn’t like me that way and-”

“dude you sound like you’re in middle school, just ask her out and if she says no she says no, nothing you can do about that” seungcheol told him calmly, taking a sip of his coffee.

jeonghan glared at him before hitting the back of seungcheol’s head (not too hard but it still made seungcheol whine). “you’re in no position to tell me anything mr waited three months to confess to his patient and was the reason she almost had a broken leg forever”

“you can’t talk either mr fake dated a girl and couldn’t confess for two months because he was too scared” jeonghan said pointedly to joshua after hearing his laugh, “neither of you are in any position to say that i should just ask her out and that it’s simple”

joshua laughed at his friend’s pout once again before patting his back before he and seungcheol headed back to work.

“so just take it easy until the next appointment and then we’ll see what needs to be done from there” you smiled at your patient. she was a high school student and had a surgery for her elbow. “it’ll take roughly 6 to 8 weeks to heal fully but it all just depends on your body’s ability. take it easy at rehab too, don’t push yourself too much alright?”

“got it, thank you so much doctor” the young teenager smiled at you. she laid back against the headboard of the hospital bed while she waited for her parents to come pick her up in an hour, her eyes drifting around the room and landing on the bouquet of jasmines you left by your computer.

“those are really pretty” she said, you followed her eyes to see she was talking about the flowers jeonghan had given you earlier.

you laughed a ‘thank you’ before thinking for a few seconds, “i’ll be right back, just press the button if you need anything, okay?”

when you were out of the room you quickly pulled out your phone, fingers searching for jeonghan’s contact. “hey jeonghan, is it alright if i can place an order really quick? this high school girl just had a surgery and i was wondering if i could just get her a few” you trailed off at the end.

“sure! i’m at the shop right now so just give me around 30 minutes? how long till she leaves?” jeonghan told you from the other side of the phone.

“her parents are picking her up in an hour, thanks so much jeonghan”

“no problem. i’ll see you in a bit” you heard before the tone for the call ending.

you headed back inside, going over the last of the paperwork to get the girl discharged, all you needed was the parents’ signature. you decided it’d be best to reassure her for now, she wouldn’t say it, but you could tell she was nervous. you told her more information on how she should care for herself over the next few weeks.

“jeonghan do you want to hang out later- why do you look so stressed out?” jeonghan’s younger friend and employee seungkwan looked at him confused.

“huh? oh a friend called and said they needed some flowers quickly, short notice” jeonghan mumbled not meeting his friends’ eyes.

seungkwan eyed him suspiciously, the gears turning in his head, “thought you hated when people asked on short notice? don’t we have a whole policy that we reject it?” seungkwan said with mirth in his voice.

“we do? seungkwan you should stop being so sensitive you can’t turn people away just because it’s short notice” jeonghan said turning to him, teasing lilt in his voice.

“what- you’re the one who came up with it not me!” seungkwan said to his boss, voice growing loud, “whatever, i just wanted to make fun of you for being so in love with yn that you’re doing all this for her”

“who said it was for yn?” jeonghan mumbled while his eyes turned back to the bouquet he was making.

“oh please! it’s obvious! who else would you go through all this trouble for?” seungkwan laughed.

jeonghan ignored his friend, turning all his undivided attention to the bouquet. it mainly consisted of yellow roses in the center with a few pink tulips and sunflowers around them. it was wrapped with a white ribbon, a small tag attached with the card reading ‘get well soon! it must have hurt ㅠㅠ please take care of yourself so you can feel better quickly :)’ truth be told jeonghan wasn’t doing this entirely just because you asked but because he genuinely wanted to do something for the poor girl. a surgery when she’s pretty young couldn’t have been easy and she’s braver than half the people he knows. picking up a small chocolate box from the convenience store next door, he set it in his car’s passenger seat with the bouquet. jeonghan sent you a quick text letting you know he was on his way before he turned his playlist on and headed to the hospital.

“yn!” jeonghan shouted before running to you, “here you go! she hasn’t left yet right?” he doubled over catching his breath.

you laughed a little at his antics before letting him know she was still waiting, “hey why don’t you come with me to give them to her?”

“are you sure?”

“yeah don’t worry about it. come on let’s go!” you lead the way back to the room.

when you returned with jeonghan you saw that she was still just waiting, scrolling through her phone looking bored out of her mind. you felt bad and realised you could’ve gotten that new junior doctor to keep her company.

“oh hi you’re back! with..” she trailed off when she saw jeonghan but her unasked question was answered when she saw the gift bag in his hands. jeonghan handed the bag over to her, smiling at her reaction to the flowers.

“these are so pretty! doctor your boyfriend’s really talented!” she giggled observing the flowers more. she was so entranced by them that she didn’t notice the awkward atmosphere engulfing the room when you quickly tried to deny what she was implying.

you were cut off by the message saying that the parents were here and were too distracted to see jeonghan leave, and you were too distracted to see the disappointment on his face.

after everything with the girl was settled, you headed back to your office. tired after the long day, you settled back into your chair stretching your limbs. you smiled to yourself when you spotted what was on your desk. it was a messy collection of a few flowers, there was no delicacy to it at all and you know that jeonghan would look annoyed at whoever ‘crafted’ (although he’d probably argue this wasn’t even a craft) the poorly put together flowers. there wasn’t even an official tag with them, it was usually just a torn off sticky note that you could get at the front desk. and as per routine, all that was on the note was a scribbled heart and a ‘good luck for tomorrow’.

for a little over half a year you’ve been getting these, but you still don’t know who it’s from. you don’t even know who in the staff delivers them to your desk because it can’t be a patient or visitor, they don’t have access. it never fails to put a smile on your face and you always secretly hope they’d give you some hint of who was sending them. you put them in your bag, heading to your car so that you could go to dinner with a few of your friends.

“you look extra happy today” your friend sooyoung teased you, giggling at how the warmth quickly spread across your face at what she said.

“it’s obvious why, did your secret admirer send you the flowers again today?” seulgi added, “what were they today, huh?”

“shut up guys” you groaned, “it’s not a secret admirer, it’s just someone being sweet and appreciating how much surgeons do! is that so wrong?”

“oh yeah definitely” nayeon teased, “someone would definitely get you flowers everyday just because they appreciated how good of a surgeon you are”

you sighed as all three of them burst into a fit of giggles before nayeon spoke up again, “so who is it?”

“isn’t it obvious?” seulgi said before you could answer, “it’s obviously jeonghan. who else is at the hospital and has relation to flowers?”

you shook your head at her reasoning, “it can’t be jeonghan. i thought it was at first too but the flowers are way too messy to be jeonghan’s. i’ve seen the flowers he keeps buried in the trunk of his car and even they’re more put together than the ones that the mystery person gives me”

“true” sooyoung spoke up, “we’ve seen these flowers, they’re all uneven. they look like they were taken from someone’s garden. i doubt jeonghan would give yn flowers that ugly if he liked her”

“hey!” you shouted, suddenly feeling offended on behalf of who was gifting you the flowers, “don’t call them ugly, they’re sweet” you pouted.

sooyoung laughed before hugging your side, “guys she’s already defending her secret offender, it’s so cute!”

you groaned again, burying your head in your hands while your friends continued to make theories on who was sending you the flowers. when you thought back to how seulgi thought it was jeonghan giving you the flowers, you remembered that you never paid him for the flowers from earlier. jumping, you quickly found his contact and called him.

“jeonghan! you didn’t let me pay for the flowers” you pouted though he couldn’t see it.

“oh so you- oh wait you mean the ones for that teenager?” he got rid of the teasing lilt immediately, although you were a little curious what he was going to say at first. “eh, don’t worry about it”

“jeonghan i owe you so much for the amount of flowers you’ve covered me, you can’t keep doing this it’ll end up driving you out of business”

the sounds of jeonghan’s soft laugh melted throughout your ear, “i told you yn, don’t worry about it. i like doing it for you..” the call stayed quiet for a few seconds, almost like jeonghan had something else to say, “uh i’m gonna go to bed now so i’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright? i’ve gotta finish a few orders for a wedding so i’ve got an early night”

“oh of course, sorry to have kept you up” you quickly told him, “but remember i’m going to pay you back!” you ended the call with both of you wishing the other good night.

for the rest of the night, you ignored your friends’ teasing in favour of stuffing your face full with the expensive meal at the restaurant you guys decided to splurge for, mind thinking about the mystery person sending you flowers.

at the next day at work, nothing much happened. you were battling a pounding headache from the night before and luckily you didn’t have much to do today besides rounds.

you stopped by the staff room that seungcheol and joshua are usually at, oddly enough jeonghan wasn’t with them today. ‘oh right he said he was busy with the orders for that wedding’. you waved at them before finishing off your rounds, if you were lucky, you’d be able to finish early and spend the rest of your shift relaxing while you hoped for your headache to subside.

that’s exactly what you did, checking up on some of your patients recovering after surgery or doing their rehabilitation before sitting in your office. you looked at the clock, 12:36- almost time for lunch. your eyes widened before you quickly checked your bag. in your rush to get out this morning and because of the headache, you never packed your lunch for today.

groaning, you searched for any places nearby that you could go to for lunch. satisfied when you found a cafe that was only a ten minute drive away, you put it into your navigator app.

when you got there, you quickly dismissed your original plan of getting the food to go and taking it back to the hospital. the cafe was right next to a park, so the tables outside the shop were in the park itself. the ambiance and sounds of nature was beautiful on a day like today, it was sunny but not too hot to the point where you were sweating buckets.

you took your food and sat at one table, taking a few pictures to remind yourself to bring your friends back here someday.

“yn?” a familiar voice drew your attention. “it is you!” you voice took the seat across from you.

“jeonghan? hi! how’d the orders for the wedding go?” you asked him, happy to see a familiar face.

he smiled at how you remembered what he had planned for today, “they loved them, thankfully. other than that i didn’t really have much to do today and there wasn’t any orders for the hospital either so i decided to just hop by the cafe”

you nodded as you listened quietly to him, taking sips of your coffee in between your sounds of acknowledgment, “yeah i don’t really have much to do either, but i’ve still gotta head back to the hospital when my lunch breaks done. this place is really pretty though i need to come back here more often” you sighed happily, pointing towards the beautiful park.

jeonghan hummed, agreeing with you. the two of you spent the rest of your break talking with each other, happily passing the time by. you checked your watch and saw you had about twenty minutes left of your break.

you bid jeonghan goodbye before driving yourself back to the hospital making a beeline straight to your office. oddly enough the flowers were there already, one day you were going to find out who’s behind it all you swear.

your ears perked up at the sound of your phone notification until you internally groaned when you saw who it was.

you loved your parents, you swear you did, but sometimes you couldn’t deal with their ridiculing. nothing could ever satisfy them- not even being a great surgeon! as soon as you did one thing that they wanted, here came another expectation they wanted you to meet. it was ridiculous! you weren’t a teenager anymore you were an adult, but they didn’t understand that.

you sighed as you opened up the text from your mom, feeling a little bad because all she just asked you to join her for a family dinner. you immediately texted her a ‘sure, can’t wait to see you all!’ after making sure your schedule was free that day.

the day the dinner rolled around, you did your best to make sure you looked great. it wasn’t rare for your family to ‘poke fun’ at how you looked, whether that be at how you generally looked or how you were dressed.

satisfied with your appearance, you grabbed your perfume, dabbing some onto your neck, collarbones and wrists. checking to make sure you had everything, all you had to do now was wait for the taxi to come pick you up to take you to your parents’ house.

most of your family was there, it’d really been a long time since you’d seen most of your aunts, uncles and cousins. you weren’t exactly sure what the occasion for all of this was when you agreed to come but you learnt it was to celebrate your younger sister’s engagement.

you hugged her, happy and surprised. you both giggled like teenagers when she showed you the ring and you hugged her again, truly so happy for her.

when the excitement died down a little, your parents started to nag you with questions. “yn when are you planning on dating someone?” your mother asked you, “your sister’s two years younger than you and she’s already engaged, just how old are you going to be when you start looking for someone?”

you were hoping her intention wasn’t to have your entire family including relatives listen to her scolding you, but right now your relatives were trying to hide that they could hear everything being said by acting like they were having their own conversations- but it was fairly obvious all the attention was on you and your parents.

“uh well.. i’m not sure yet. when the right person comes along then..” you didn’t face them properly and mentally berated yourself for it. how could you expect them to finally acknowledge you as an adult when all you could do was turn into the little kid that was scared to disappoint them? “besides, i didn’t really have time to look! i’ve been a surgeon for a year and it took 8 years of training” you grew quiet at the slightly mad looks on their faces.

“we didn’t raise you to make excuses for yourself and not take responsibility yn” your father told you harshly.

you nodded, too drained to argue back. they’d drop it after a week or two and you really didn’t have it in you to draw even more attention to yourself. so you swallowed the lump in your throat down and blinked back the stinging tears forming in your eyes.

after another twenty minutes, you decided it was time for you to leave. their ridiculing wasn’t letting up any time soon and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to go the rest of the dinner without having a breakdown right next to your uncle who only wanted you to hand him the salt.

you made an excuse at their questions, “i’m being called in at the hospital” you told them.

you stepped outside, the cool summer air hitting your face causing the tears welling up for the last 30 minutes to finally start falling. you sat on the curb, silently crying to yourself for a few minutes. you sighed frustrated when you realised you didn’t bring any money to pay for a cab ride back, thinking you’d stay with your parents for the night.

you scrolled through your contacts before you realised that all of your friends were busy tonight.

there was only one you weren’t sure of.

jeonghan was sitting on his friend’s couch, hanging out with a couple of his friends when he got your call. he answered normally, not bothering to move to another room until he heard you speak.

you sounded so small, so hurt- he could practically hear the tears in your voice. biting back sobs you asked him if he could pick you up from the address you’d send. jeonghan was so confused, as far as he knew you were at your parents’ for a dinner. you’d told him a few days ago and you seemed so excited for it.

he quickly explained to his friends that he had to go and he wasn’t sure how long it’d take. jeonghan waited for you to send the address before starting the car, quickly driving to pick you up.

jeonghan thought about you the entire drive over, worried about what happened to put you in a state like that and angry at whoever made it happen. you were inconsolable over the phone and all he wanted to do was hug you and comfort you, telling you how much he loved you and that you didn’t deserve what happened to you.

your sobs died down a little, but you still sniffles every few seconds when stray tears would escape you. the sound of a car pulling up caught your attention and you looked up to see it was jeonghan, he looked so stressed.

you felt guilty when you saw him. ‘what if he was sleeping and he woke up for his?’ you thought to yourself, regretting having bothered him.

he crouched down to bring himself to your position as you still sat on the curb, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes when you saw your friend.

“yn..” jeonghan said softly, worried and cautious. “can you tell me what happened please?”

you shook your head while you fought against your body and the urge to start sobbing again, “it’s so- so stupid, jeonghan. i’m sorry i bothered you, you’re probably so annoyed”

“hey hey, i’m not annoyed at you. if im annoyed it’s at whoever made you so sad” he told you, gently rubbing away your tears, heart breaking at how more just kept falling to replace the ones he wiped.

you explained everything to jeonghan from your sister’s engagement to the way your parents practically humiliated you in front of everyone.

he looked at you for a few seconds before getting up and walking over to the front door of your parents house. before he knocked on it, he unlocked his car and told you to sit in there rather than the dirty curb.

you were too drained from the night to question what he was up to, you’ve known yoon jeonghan long enough to know that you wouldn’t be able to stop him anyway.

he came back a few minutes later, looking frustrated but a little satisfied with himself. jeonghan went to the trunk of his car, pulling something out. when you saw him do so, you smiled a little, expecting him to give you a beautifully arranged bouquet of flowers like he always did when you expressed to him you were stressed and he’d always explain the specific choice of flowers while you admired them.

what you didn’t expect was for him to instead show you a messily arranged bunch of flowers, they looked like they were freshly picked from someone’s front garden. he reached over you to grab an old receipt from the glovebox, scribbling a little heart to the back of it before attaching it to the bunch of flowers. he handed it to you, grinning and happily laughing at your confusion.

“you didn’t expect it, huh?” he asked you, still giggling.

“n-no i didn’t- does this mean-?”

“that i’ve been the one leaving you those ugly little flowers on your desk everyday? yeah. expect well- it wasn’t really me leaving them- i mean obviously they’re from me to you but then one actually putting them on the desk was either shua or cheol-”

you laughed at how he was tripping over his own words, as cool as he wanted to look he was still a little nervous confessing to you.

“i’m so mad” you deadpanned, trying not to let the corners of your lips lift into a smile when you saw the worried look on his face.

“you mean to tell me that i’ve been trying to play detective for the last few months all because you didn’t want to tell me!” you whined, pouting at him.

“it was supposed to be a fun way to confess! i just didn’t think it’d take you this long to figure it out!” jeonghan laughed again when he realised you were joking. “actually, in the end, you weren’t even the one to realise. i told you!”

you rolled your eyes playfully at him, “oh well thank you for finally realising i was clueless about the whole thing. what did make you finally want to admit it anyway?”

jeonghan went silent for a few minutes, reassuring you that he was simply trying to find the right words to say what he needed to.

“when i heard you tonight.. i realised something” he looked at the empty street.

“on the phone you sounded so.. sad. it made me sad too and it made me realise that i was wrong about how i thought i felt about you for the last few months”

“i mean that i thought for the last few months that i just liked you- a crush kind of. and that i wanted to go out with you” he quickly added when he saw the worry flash through your face, “i realised that if i only liked you then i wouldn’t have felt how i did today. and it made me realise that i love you a lot more than i thought. and i don’t want to just go out with you but i want to try to make sure you never feel like how you did today ever again”

“so basically what i’m trying to say is, i love you yn, and i hope someday i’ll be in love with you, and you the same for me” he finally looked you in the eyes.

it was a lot to take in at once. from the dinner, to jeonghan telling you he was your mystery admirer to him telling you he loved you- it was a long night to say the least.

you thought about it, and you definitely felt the same. you wouldn’t say you were in love with him, but you definitely loved him- and wanted to see what a future life with him was like. jeonghan was an amazing person, he’d been the one to bring you joy for the better part of your first year as a surgeon.

leaning over the stick shift, you gently pressed a kiss to the corner of his lip, smiling at his it curved upwards. you met his eyes before speaking, “i really really like you too- i think i might even love you. and i definitely want to be with you, jeonghan”

jeonghan smiled again, index finger tilting the underside of your jaw up bringing you closer to him and his lips to yours.

“hannie? you ready yet?” you called out to your boyfriend, trying to decide on which necklace to wear.

you decided on the pearl one jeonghan had gotten for you on your anniversary, struggling a little as you tried to put it on yourself.

you felt the ends being taken from your own fingers as they secured the necklace in place, you looked through the mirror to see jeonghan, his hands now coming to circle your waist and pressing kisses on your neck from the back to the side, eventually making his way to your collarbone.

“han..” you sighed, smiling when his eyes met your own, “we don’t have much time left until we have to get there”

“i’m sure your sister won’t mind if we’re a little late” he said but pulled away anyway in favour of doing up your zip like you’d asked.

“oh yeah definitely” you said sarcastically before giggling at your boyfriend’s sulking, “come on, i’d rather my family doesn’t murder me for being late to my own sister’s wedding” in reality you knew you still had plenty of time and you definitely wouldn’t be late, but you still didn’t want to take any chances.

“if they try saying anything i’ll tell seungcheol to threaten them”

“what happened to the guy who once marched into my parents house and lectured them for ten minutes about how they should treat me better?” you teased him.

“he realised he’s scared your parents will end up saying no to him when he asks for their daughter’s hand in marriage” he laughed, his hands finding their way to his pockets while he kissed you again.

you tried to hide the fact that you were flustered by clearing your throat and checking your purse to make sure you had everything, but jeonghan saw right through you sending you a teasing look before grabbing his keys.

“yn?”

“hm?” you turned around to look at him.

“i love you” he smiled, warmth swimming in his brown eyes.

“i love you too” you walked over to him, pressing your lips to his own.

[m0chisenpai]

Hi I saw this tiktok

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJQPcU84/

And I immediately thought of prowler! Miles x fem reader

If your taking requests I would be really grateful if you considered this ❤️

-🕸️

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

42!Miles Morales x black!fem!!reader

YO so I have been wondering how would the earth 42 version of the spidergirl!reader I have already and I feel like this just confirmed she needs to be THAT girl

You were his type. You could hold your own down Miles knew that much when he witnessed you beating the brakes off a girl down the street for coming at one of your friends. The way you casually laid the girl out and fixed your hair, took your bag from your friends and continued on your way. Boy was SPRUNG and his friends clown him bout it for DAYS

Guys came and went in your life. They never lingered and you liked it that way. You never let them set you up. You were always five steps ahead. Were quick to cut them off before things got messy, and you grew bored easily.

This however, caught Miles completely off guard when he flashed you that lazy smile and cooed at you in the middle of calculus asking if you could tutor him after school to which you replied “do I look like I know what I’m doing?” And turned your pretty ass back around

The guys who COULD survive you and live to tell the tale all mentioned one similar thing in common: your temper and your stubborn behavior and Miles could attest to both when before school he watched as you sat on the curb refusing to get in homeboys car because of a text message that you saw on his phone that lie cracked and chipped just a few feet from you

You played the game easily with boys. They played checkers while you were playing chess but sometimes you wondered if there was anyone out there, even as much as you enjoyed plucking boy hearts like Valentine’s Day candy hearts, something soft and sweet deep down in that heart of yours yearned to be loved

When Miles asked you what was up with you during fifth block calc you said the ceiling and told him to kindly fuck off once again. Next class he continued to speak with you like that conversation never happened. The cycle continued for a good two weeks, Miles attempting that pretty boy charm and you brushing him away like he was a fly on the wall

He liked a little challenge, a little bark AND bite and not because he wanted to conquer you oh no, he loved your fire and he wanted to stoke your fire in you. He wanted to pour the gasoline a top of it and watch you burn bright and beautiful

Miles stood outside of your locker that you opened up and he caught when you intended for it to crack him in his nose. "Morales, I'm not one of your bitches. If you think you can play me like one, respectfully fuck off."

And he raised a brow and tilted his head, "you not a bitch that's for sure. And I never said you was one. I know you smart, I know how you play and get down. So like I’m gon ask you again, what is up with you Y/N?"

Silence. but the corner of your brown lined lips turns up slightly and you suppose you'll entertain Morales.

You and Miles were THAT couple, one second ya’ll were friends and the next thing he’s checking on you between classes, waiting outside of school to walk you home, and chopping it with your homegirls who gush and rave about he wasn’t like the last bum you were talking to

No one can pinpoint when it happened, one second you were apart next thing you were Morales’ girl and he was L/N’s man

Miles never liked getting caught up with females, it never ended good and his ‘part time job’ always got in the way of relationships but things with you were different

You didn’t press Miles on why he wasn’t responding late at night, never chided him for handling his business, and you damn sure didn’t care when he talked to other females. Miles wonders why the world hid such a rare Godsend from him because you gave him little to NO headaches when it came to petty matters he dealt with

When he introduces you to Mama Rio she falls in love with you and Miles nearly cackles at how soft his mom makes you, she grills you on her son and tells you that if her boy messes up or does anything wrong to let her know IMMEDIATELY and you and his uncle are on good terms and he tells you the same thing his sister in law said

Just as much as Miles spoils you, you return the favor

He cashapps you for a fresh set? You send your baby something back to get a fresh line up and touch his braids up. You’ve got dozens of his barber pics and videos saved and he’s got your fresh sets and hair saved in his phone as well

Ya’ll got matching kicks I don’t care if it’s corny ya’ll do and you kindly told the bitch drooling over your man at the store the shoes while she was checking ya’ll out it was gonna take more than fluttering them patchy little minks at your man to get his attention

It takes some time till you expose a softer bit of you, a more gentle part. You lost your father, and thats why it pains you to see Mr.Morales whenever he is by, but Miles’ father sees a daughter in you and is so sweet on you it melts your heart

As much as he loved how you can hold yours down, it takes time and patience to chip past that hyper independence you’ve built. Your walls were built on hurt and pain and Miles knew not to force his way in, but you could be so stubborn headed. The first night the two of you really went at it was after you’d gone over Miles’ apartment and attempted to call an Uber back home at 2am.

“I know you fucking lying” Miles’ voice broke the silence from falling asleep during a Netflix marathon. As soon as he felt you lift your head from his chest his eyes snapped open “a dónde vas mami?” Any other night that raspy post sleep tone would have you weak in the knees and right back in his arms, but not tonight.

“Miles I don’t got no bag to spend the night and I need my stuff” Miles rolls his eyes and reaches to grab your hand to stop you from putting your slides back on.

“Y/N be for real its two in the damn morning you not going home.” You know instantly he’s not playing, you were rarely called by your first name.

“Miles I’m not staying here, I don’t got my tooth brush, face wipes, nothing now let me go” you snatch your hand and now Miles is sitting up completely.

“Who you talking to like that?”

“You and what?” You raise both brows at him. But his face stays neutral. He sucks on his teeth then he’s looking up at you, but its in a way that makes you freeze from hitting request ride.

“I’m not letting my girl go home this late, before you started running your mouth I was bout to tell you, you left your bag here with your stuff and I got you a skill scarf already. You done with the attitude now? I’m tired and need you in my arms sleep so I can sleep.”

Miles can rarely recall what shock looks like on your face. But he fights the urge to yank his phone of the charger so he can capture the way you sit your phone next to his and pull your hoodie off to leave yourself in your tank.

“You ain’t have to get all domestic” you grumble as you sit on the bed and pull your slides and socks off.

“I know baby, my bad. M’ just tired” he mumbles and you feel his hand slide up your back and trail your spine down. You can’t help but take in how tired he does look, how tonight was his one of many rare nights off from work. And so you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, slow and steady.

“I’m gonna shower real quick love” you whisper against his lips when he finally releases you. And you watch as his eyes slowly droop shut and his arm slides off of you. His breathing slows back down and once he’s asleep you’re walking toward toward the closet picking the duffle up reaching deep inside till you feel the silk of your clothes. Black and red and large white eyes glare at you, reminding you that you have work tonight.

Yiu want to feel bad for putting MIles to sleep, but his peaceful snores are more than enough to take the twang off as you slide the mask over your face ready to set off where you originally meant.

“Black Widow, what’s taking you so long?”

“Sorry sir, ready for tonight’s target.”

And who were you to leave the streets to what men? You don’t think so.

[disillusioneddanny]

This was inspired by this post. This will also be turned into a multi chapter fic on my ao3. You can subscribe here

But enjoy <3

Tw: talks of vivisection and abuse

Harley Quinn stumbled through the streets of Amity Park, newborn baby clutched to her chest as she furiously checked over her shoulder to make sure no one was following her. She had done it, she had finally gotten away from Mr. J for good just six months before. If he came lookin’ for her, she would be able to handle him on her own, especially with the help of Ives. But Danny wouldn’t be able to do jack shit against his crazed sperm donor. So, Harley was doin’ what she thought would be best. She was going to ask her step-brother and see if he and his wife could take him.

If anyone would be able to protect her baby it would be Jack Fenton, her step-brother was a hulking giant of a man and while his aim may have been shit, his wife’s wasn’t. The two were scientists, ghost hunters if Harley remembered right and they would be just crazy enough to think Mr. J was a ghost if he showed his slimy face around Amity Park.

“Don’t worry Danny, they’ll keep you safe, I promise. You’re never gonna have to worry about a crazy father tryin’ to kill you or use you for his own gain, I won’t ever let that happen,” Harley said quietly before pressing a soft kiss on her son’s head and knocked on the door of Fenton Works.

His father was trying to kill him. Danny allowed his sister to drag him out of Fenton Works and to her car, head spinning, lungs burning for oxygen. Telling his parents about his ghost form had gone bad, it had gone so, so, so bad and now Jazz and Danny were running for their lives as Jack Fenton shot another ectoblast at the siblings.

“Jazz, where’re we going to go? What are we going to do? You destroyed the portal,” Danny gasped out once Jazz had shoved him into the backseat of her beat up, gray, ‘78 Volkswagen Beetle. He scrambled in just as Maddie shot in the spot he had just been occupying, his sister grunted as she took the shot. While she was liminal, she still had enough human in her that it was nothing more than feeling like she got an instant sunburn.

Jazz slammed the door shut, ignoring the shouts from the Fentons behind her as she got around to the driver’s seat and sped off, tires spinning against the pavement.

“We’re going to Aunt Harley’s,” Jazz said determinedly.

“My mother?” Danny squawked from the backseat. “Didn’t Da-Jack say she was crazy?”

“Jack’s crazy Danny! He had you strapped to a table-” Jazz stopped herself as a guttural growl escaped her lips. “Whatever. Aunt Harley will be the best option. If anyone can keep us away from the Fentons it’ll be her.”

Danny slumped down in the backseat and finally looked down at the giant cut on his chest and let out a groan. His mother. Jack and Maddie had never hesitated to tell Danny where he had come from. Jack in particular boasted about how his poor, abused sister trusted him of all people to raise her baby and keep him safe from harm.

Joke’s on him apparently considering he was the very person who had managed to hurt Danny the most. Danny wasn’t stupid, though, he had heard about Harley Quinn. The psychiatrist turned villain who was now in her own way a hero but remained the self titled Queen of Chaos. He knew that his mother was dangerous, each time she had come to visit with her pasty white, tattoo covered skin, chemically bleached hair, and slightly crazed look in her eyes, Danny knew. He knew that the reason Dan was a reality was because of his genes, because of where he came from.

He had done everything he could to make sure he wouldn’t turn out like his mother. And if his suspicions were correct, he would do everything to make sure he didn’t turn out anything like his sperm donor. There was a reason Danny hated clowns and it wasn’t just because of Freakshow.

“Do you think she’s going to be happy seeing us at her house, though? Or Aunt Ivy? She’ll probably be annoyed that we dropped in unannounced,” Danny said before reaching down and grabbing the metal box that held his first aid kit. He used his powers to thread a needle with fishing wire and bit his lip hard as he forced the needle through his skin and started to sew up where his parents had started the vivisection. It would most likely scar but Danny didn’t want to think about that right now. Danny didn’t want to think about anything right now except for the fact that they were going to his mother’s house of all places.

“Danny, your mom adores you. She didn’t drop you off at the Fenton’s to abandon you. She did it to protect you. Aunt Harley knew that she wasn’t capable of raising a baby and she did the most responsible thing she could think of. But she loves you, she’s loved you from the moment you were born,” Jazz told him, glancing in her rearview mirror to watch her baby brother sew himself up as she sped down the highway.

“And how do you know that?” Danny asked, a hiss escaped from between his clenched teeth as he got to the worst part of the cut and continued with his sewing.

“Because I was there the night she brought you home. And I see it in her eyes when she comes to visit us. She loves you Danny, she was just in a bad situation,” Jazz reasoned, knuckles white on the steering wheel as she sped onto the onramp to start their journey from Amity Park, Illinois to Gotham City, New Jersey.

“And she’s just going to be happy to have her sixteen year old son randomly appear in her front door? She couldn’t take care of me then, what makes you so sure she can help us now?” Danny spat out as he finally finished his stitching and tied off the thread. He reached into the kit once more and grabbed a few of the antiseptic wipes that had been packed in and cleaned the ectoplasm-blood mixture off of his chest as best as he could before taping gauze to his chest. It wasn’t the best patch job and Frostbite would probably be horrified if he saw it, but it was the best Danny could do with a tiny first aid kit in the back of his sister's rickety car as she went well over a hundred miles per hour in a seventy.

“I think so, yeah,” Jazz admitted after a few minutes of silence. Danny let out a huff of a laugh as he struggled to sit up. “There’s a shirt in this bag,” she said, tossing him the backpack that sat in the passenger seat, the go bag for if the worst had ever come to fruition. Which it definitely had.

Danny dug through the bag and found the tried and true NASA shirt folded carefully within the bag and let out a sigh through nose as he carefully maneuvered around to get the shirt on without angering the stitches on his chest too much. Even if his mother wasn’t happy to see them or able to take care of them, she’d be able to help. She was a better option than any other.

Vlad was completely out of the picture. Dani was ancients only knew where and she wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway. Sam and Tuck still didn’t even know what had happened and Danny hadn’t decided how he was going to deal with that. Aunt Alicia would most likely call mom-Maddie if she saw them on her doorstep.

Aunt Harley was their only option now that the portal was destroyed and Danny certainly did not have the strength he would need to open a portal. Plus, Gotham had plenty of ambient ectoplasm according to Tuck’s research.

When they had first made this plan, Tucker had looked into any place that came close to having the same amounts of ectoplasm as Amity Park and Gotham had been number one on the list. So at least Danny had that going for him.

“I’m going to try to get a little bit of rest, getting cut open drains a guy,” Danny said with a chuckle, pressing the backpack into the car seat and carefully laid back down. “When I wake up, we can switch and I can drive for a bit. You need rest too.”

Jazz simply hummed in response and said nothing more as her little brother settled into the backseat and allowed sleep to take over.

“I told you I could have helped drive here,” Danny muttered as Jazz pulled into a shady looking, nondescript building.

“Danny, you had to sew yourself back up in my backseat. You needed the rest far more than I did, besides, no use in complaining, we’re here now,” Jazz said, glancing back at the tired, pouty look on her brother’s face and smiled. “Aren’t you excited to see your mom and Aunt Pam?”

“Is she technically my stepmom?” Danny asked once Jazz put the car in park and shut off the engine. She got out and went around to Danny’s door and helped her baby brother out of the car.

“Technically?” Jazz said, crinkling her nose as she thought it out. Yeah, that would make the most sense anyway. “Are you okay?” She asked as Danny winced, pressing a hand to his chest as he climbed out of the small car and leaned heavily against Jazz’s side.

“Yeah, just hurting,” he murmured and shook his head as if that would get rid of the pain. “Let’s just go.”

Jazz gave her brother a concerned look but locked her car nonetheless and started to help the boy up the stairs before she rung the doorbell.

The two tensed as they listened to footsteps stomp their way.

“Look, I’m Jewish, I ain’t interested in that Jehovah’s Witness shit,” they heard Harley shout before the door swung open.

Harley’s jaw fell open as she froze in place at the scene in front of her. The two teenagers were quite the sight. Harley had never seen the usually put together Jasmine look so frazzled as long as she had known her niece. Her son was in even worse states, if the eyebags on his face, the strange blood and green stains on his shirt, and panting told her anything.

He looked up at her tiredly, the dark circles under his eyes even darker than she had initially noticed. “Hey mom,” he said with a huff, hanging from Jasmine’s shoulders.

“Aw fuck, come in, come in,” Harley said wearily, ushering the two into the building. “Ives! I need your help!”

Harley carefully moved her niece out of the way before she quickly lifted her son into her arms and started down the hallway. “It’s okay Danny, Mama’s gotcha,” she murmured, cradling the sixteen year old boy to her chest as she carried him bridal style. Jazz followed her aunt as they made it to the living room just as Ivy came out of the bedroom looking confused.

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, though, as she spotted the three before her. “Shit, I’ll get the salves,” she stated before her eyes landed on Jazz. “Come help me?”

Jazz looked between her aunt and her brother before looking back at Ivy and gulped, nodding her head once before following the eco-terrorist back into the bedroom.

“Oh sweetie,” Harley murmured, carefully setting Danny on the beat up couch. “Baby what happened to you?”

“Jack and Maddie happened,” he said with a hiss as his mother raised his shirt and took in the cuts that had been sloppily stitched up.

Harley’s eyes flicked between the incision that seeped red-green liquid and Danny’s pained face. “Jacky boy did this to you?”

Danny nodded, letting out a whimper. “It’s a long story,” he said as his mom traced a finger over the cuts, the pieces connecting in her brain.

Harley Quinn was a lot of things but she was not stupid. She may not have gotten the chance to visit her son as often as she wanted but the last time she had seen him she had noticed something was different about him. She had been around Ivy long enough to know when someone had gained powers that they barely had control over. She had noticed the way her son’s eyes would flash a startling green whenever his emotions got out of hand. Noticed the way he was colder than before and how his shoulders looked as though they carried the entire world on them.

She didn’t know what had happened to her son or what it had done to him, but she knew he was more than human now. She had seen that plenty of times before. And it looks like the Fentons had discovered this and decided that Danny was one of their new experiments.

“You’re dead, aren’t you?” She asked bluntly, recognizing the toxic ectoplasm that seemed from between her son’s stitches. “Not all the way but somethin’ happened and they didn’t like it.”

“Yeah. I uh, I was fourteen, didn’t kill me all the way, just enough for me to be considered a ghost and you know how mom-Maddie and Jack are about ghosts,” Danny said just as Ivy and Jazz came back with towels, wet rags, and salves to cover the incisions.

Harley raised her eyes from Danny’s wounds and looked her son in the eyes. “I’m gonna kill ‘em,” she snarled, snatching a wet rag from Ivy and started to better clean the wound. “I’m gonna murder them and then when they turn into ghosts I’ll give ‘em a taste of their own medicine,” she said, hands gentle as she cleaned around the wound.

“You’re going to need to redo those stitches,” Ivy said softly, sitting beside Danny’s head and taking it in her lap as she ran her fingers through the black locks, trying to distract her wife’s son from the stinging pain he was likely feeling.

“There’s no point, the wound will be closed by tomorrow,” Jazz said quietly and handed a warm, dry towel to Harley after she had finished cleaning the incisions and carefully patted the skin dry. She then took the salve and carefully coated it over her son’s chest.

“Don’t kill them,” Danny said quietly, taking his mother’s hand in his and squeezed the pale hand in his. “Just, mom, just protect me. Please?” He asked, voice cracking slightly.

Harley let out a sigh and squeezed her son’s hand tight. “Baby, I’ll always protect you,” she promised, still feeling her chest burn in anger at the fact that her step-brother, the one person on this earth she had trusted to take care of her son had caused him this much pain. Jack and Maddie Fenton would rue the day they hurt Harley Quinn’s baby.

[convoloutedinjoke]

Rating Disco Elysium characters based on how funny I think their kinks have the potential to be

Harry: the DSM of getting off on things. He likes piss he likes feet he likes the idea of being soooo small and tiny you could step on him like a bug, and while none of these things are funny on their own they are when he does them on account of his being a clown. He would also fuck a clown, incidentally. 8/10, knocking two points off because this lacks the element of surprise.

Kim: Leather and uniform fetishist. No wise guy shenanigans here. Will fuck you serious will fuck you professional. His strap is extremely normal, his daddy/boy dynamics are not a laughing matter. 4/10 because he wants to have relations with his car and is embarrassed about it

Jean: No idea what gets him off but he genuinely believes whatever it is means he’s evil and weird, making him the proud owner of The Worlds Funniest Kinks. 9/10, steals mustard from the homeless without remorse but has a moral crisis every time he cums while fantasising about getting gangbanged in a holding cell. Sad!

Trant: not funny. too passionately open about the things hes into. if you tried to make light of his trampling fetish, he would recite the wikipedia entry on cock and ball torture to you from memory and look delighted to be sharing his interests with you the whole time. 3/10

Klaasje: not funny to most on account of being conventionally attractive and good at billing her sexual encounters as suffused with romantic, literary ennui but it SHOULD be funny to be such a Lana Del Rey motherfucker in the sheets so I’m pulling rank and saying 7/10

Joyce: cringefail class dynamics fantasies. Bodice rippers and the opposite of CEO erotica feature heavily here. This wouldn’t be funny if not for the fact she literally owns a yacht. Also wants to get stabbed a little bit. 5/10, probably read the elysium version of lady chatterlys lover as a teen and still jerks off about it.

Garte: a normal man if there ever was one. has kinks but they aren't funny. wears a bra sometimes and it looks cute. 1/10 probably fun to hook up with and a decent communicator

The Deserter: given the 5 decades of loneliness, im willing to bet his brain has rewired itself into having some interesting potentially bug-related reward pathways but whatever he's got going on is too sad to laugh about. 0/10 :(

Sunday Friend: his kinks would be funny on anyone else, but he’s very very very boring. 2/10, you can pay a twink to do raceplay with you, but it wont dispel the grey miasma of being a mid tier government employee

evrart: I don’t know honestly, the lying and manipulating and petty power plays scrambled my brain despite the rube-Goldbergian elements of all his little tasks. Maybe he’d do predicament bondage? Uh. 3/10. Id let him hit, but he also has kind of a Wallace n Grommit thing going on so I can’t say 0

Steban: big on role playing but isn’t very good at it. Starts giggling halfway through when it becomes apparent how silly the fake muttonchops are. 4/10, less funny than it could be because he has a sense of humour about it

Ulixes: probably has a guro thing but also hasn’t had sex since he started focusing on reading theory and feints at the sight of real blood. This should be less funny than pretending to be Kras Mazov in bed, but he takes himself extremely seriously. 6/10 until he starts getting laid again, then still 6/10 but for other reasons

Gary: cuck chair. 10/10. I am not elaborating because I’m tired now, but someone else made a convincing post at one point

[fuctacles]

"What are those 'freaks' exactly?" Steve asks from the back seat of the car. He does have a vague idea but it's not something that comes up in daily conversation or gets covered in classes. He's not even interested in going, but his parents rarely take him anywhere, so when his mom mentioned that a freak show came to town and she wanted to check it out, he backed her up and his father reluctantly agreed to make it a family trip.

“Human curiosities,” his mother answers, which explains nothing to him.

“Mother Nature’s fuck-ups,” adds his father, making Steve frown. 

Wasn’t nature supposed to be orderly and thought out? Meticulously crafted by evolution or god’s plan, whichever you believed in? (Steve’s teachers had a confusing beef about it.)

Then again, nature invented spiders, which Steve would consider a fuck-up on its part. He remembers Dustin telling him about a comic about a spider-man. The thought of a human-shaped arachnid makes his skin crawl and he loses all his curiosity on the topic. Suddenly the family trip doesn't seem so fun anymore.

The short drive to the empty fields on the outskirts of Hawkins is filled with the Top 40 playing on the radio. His father taps his fingers to the beat of some of them, proving against all odds that he's capable of enjoying trivial human things. Steve loves to sing along and dance in the confines of his room but here, trapped in a car with his parents, he just bops his head slightly, not wanting to disturb the silence.

The freak show is a lot like the circus his uncle took him to once. There is a scattering of tents and trucks in varying sizes, all in a similar, kitschy theme of a fun fair. The air even smells of popcorn and hot dogs.

His mother scrunches her nose as soon she steps out of the car.

“This is not what I expected,” she comments, eyeing the scattering of kids and families running around.

“Well...” His father slams the door shut, pulling out a cigarette even before locking the car. “These things are dying off because of human rights activists,” he says around the cig he's trying to light. “Guess they had to rebrand to keep the business afloat.”

It's Steve’s turn to scrunch his face. His dad makes everything about business and money, even something supposedly fun, like a Sunday family trip to a fair; freak show, circus, whatever this is.

“It used to be a huge tent with displays. Now each of them gets their own? Who do they think they are?” his mother laments while hanging onto her husband’s arm, while Steve tails behind.

They pass a tent with a Siamese Twins sign hanging from the front, with a man at the front of the line, gathering money and letting people in. Nearby is another tent, occupied by a Bearded Lady, then a Half-man Half-wolf behind it. The line to that one is particularly long.

The Harringtons agree to take a walk around and decide which ones they want to spend money on, and whether it's even worth it. They've already paid an entrance fee that gives them access to most of the attractions anyway.

They pass a couple of smaller booths, a face-painting clown, and a juggler, before reaching the biggest tent in the center. In front of it stands a chalkboard with a schedule of main events. According to it the next show, between 1 pm and 2:30 pm, was a music performance, pricing a dollar per song: The Twisted Jukebox. 

Steve decides to stay back, with a couple of bills burning in his pocket, while his parents keep exploring.

The light coming in from the top of the tent illuminates a box in the stage center, throwing a long shadow against the soft glow. As he comes closer he realizes it's a jukebox, and he wonders what could possibly be so special about it to warrant an hour-and-a-half-long performance slot. The sign says 'a dollar per song', but does it even take bills?

He decides that the couple of minutes left until the start gives him enough time to examine the machine. It isn't as close to the edge of the stage as he’d like but he presses against the wooden construction nevertheless, cocking his head to the side. The jukebox looks off, different from the ones he'd see at diners, but he can't exactly put his finger on why.

“Hi! Would you like to request a song?”

The sudden voice to his left startles him into bumping his elbow against the stage. He winces as he turns around.

A blonde girl is smiling at him apologetically. She's wearing a short green dress, with a jacket he's seen on other circus staff thrown over her shoulders. She must be involved in the show, then.

He glances back at the jukebox, the song list unreadable from his vantage point.

“What are my options?” he asks, looking at the girl again. 

“Any song works!” she says with a bright smile, and he frowns at her, confused.

"That's not how jukeboxes work," he observes. But her smile only widens.

"This one does," she assures him. "So?"

His mind blanks in when put on the spot like that, but he thinks back to the songs he's heard on the radio today.

"Madonna's Material Girl?" he suggests hesitantly. For some reason, she laughs.

"That's perfect. You're the first one today, so you'll get the honors. Do you have a token already?"

The face he makes must be answer enough because she smiles and produces a coin from her pocket. Or a poker chip painted gold to resemble a coin.

"I hope you have a dollar because I don't have any change yet."

He remembers how gigs work, that you have to pay the performers, and dives into his pocket. He didn't take much with him, but one dollar isn't a problem. He exchanges it for the golden token.

"Follow me." The girl motions at him and turns around abruptly. Stunned, he does as he's told until they reach the steps on the side of the stage. She moves aside as if expecting him to go up there.

He's confused as all hell. Is this how all circus performers were? Freaks in both senses of the word?

The girl chuckles at him and she's too cute for Steve to be offended but it's a close call.

"Hop up there, put the coin in the slot and the show will start. I'll come get you after that."

His confusion triples down but he's used to nodding along when a cute girl talks to him so that's what he does now as well. Blondes are not exactly his type, but maybe he could ask her out and show her around town later.

"Okay," he says before stepping on the stage. When he turns around the girl is gone and he hopes it's not some kind of twisted joke.

The sunlight coming through an open flap on the tent's dome lights the stage, casting the surrounding audience in shadows, which Steve is grateful for. He doesn't want to know what kind of faces they are making looking at the dumbass on stage approaching a jukebox.

It looks almost like any other he's seen before, though the paint job is custom. Twisted Jukebox is written at the top in scratchy letters, and the sides are painted with images of fantastical creatures: dragons, unicorns, and the like. Not Steve's style but someone did a good job on it.

The songs list though, is... peculiar. It has things like:

Anything by Metallica, please,

No Wham! I beg of you,

Country over Pop.

Steve wonders briefly if he had even woken up this morning. Everything from the moment his mother proposed a family outing has been too weird to be real.

Finally, his eyes land on the colorful slot with an arrow pointing to it saying "$1 - 1song". He rubs his thumb over the token he's been given before flipping it sideways and sliding it in.

The coin rattles inside like it just fell through into an empty box. He frowns.

read the rest here with art by @blasvemous

And then, the sides of the jukebox fall apart.

[some-triangles]

SOUNDS OF 2024

My ferret wife and I were driving down 82nd listening to KINK FM 102. If you are not familiar this is a radio station that specializes in a particular vocal type - it's a voice that transcends genre, ranging from alt rock to white blues to what I can only describe as the Mumford zone - but the key point is that you will not understand a word the singer is singing. Think Hootie, or Eddie Vedder. Crunched through car speakers it's a sort of audio spackle that tickles the brain with the occasional half-recognizable phrase.

Every six or seven songs, though, they play a classic from the 80s or 90s. On this day we got lucky and it was Major Tom by Peter Schilling. You don't think you know this song, but you do. It's the one where the chorus goes like

Prior to this moment I'd occasionally gotten the "earth below us" bit stuck in my head without having any idea where it came from. Making the connection activated something in my brain and, consequently, in the youtube algorithm, and for the rest of the year all I cared about was Neue Deutsche Welle.

I fell in love with the singer from Trio - no longer with us, sadly. This is a band that you will know from their international hit Da Da Da Ich Liebe Du Nicht Du Liebes Mich Nicht Aha Aha Aha. If you're my age you'll remember this tune from Pepsi commercials, but like Chumbawamba, Trio were a weird art punk band with a fluke chart topper rather than your standard one-hit wonder.

Stephan Remmler was so fucking handsome, you guys. And his tragic Weimar cabaret clown of a drummer. And his mysterious, weirdly femme guitarist.

So I went on a dive. As a whole there is more cod reggae (kraut reggae?) in the NDW catalog than I'm comfortable with but other than that it's a true flowering of DIY weirdness. Start with 99 Luftballons and just keep going... the wall should never have fallen, you guys. RIP to the gulag archipelago but global culture never recovered from glasnost.

Anyway that's what I was listening to this year, except also Kendrick vs Drake happened and suddenly hip hop is good again. You don't need me to tell you about this - there are ten million youtube essays you can watch. I'd just like to encourage everyone to keep an eye on Tyler the Creator moving up as a dark horse candidate for commercial AND artistic success of next year. And that's the really miraculous thing about Kendrick - I can't remember the last time an album I really liked had five songs in the top 10 at once. Because it's never fucking happened before!

Music nerds bouncing off GNX are cheating themselves out of a rare opportunity to like something popular. (Maybe that's why they're bouncing, actually.) But it's undeniable stuff.

Painfully beautiful, and this isn't even what he's supposed to be best at. Pop music is fun and interesting and deep again. You can't relax for a second - even now that Drake has been chased out of rap into the right wing influencer sphere and courtroom trolling, Things are still happening. Christmas day, Tyler smokes Kendrick on his own beat:

And where's Vince Staples? Surely he's got a statement album coming. I haven't even gotten a chance to listen to scHoolboy Q's Blue Lips enough times for the ink to sink in. I've always been a west coast guy where rap is concerned, mainstream or indie, and I've been eating so good...

It's been a great year for me and music, basically. A lot of this has been due to picking up crumbs from Ferret Wife's Kendrick obsession and various other treats she's brought me. From a creative standpoint I've made nothing ambitious but steadily cranking out jingles and silly parodies has made me a better player and singer than I've ever been, and surely there's a sensitive guitar man album in me waiting to come out.

In the meantime please enjoy my contribution to this year's Exit 605 Christmas Album.

[pinkrangersarah]

Please do the random headcanons you've got for the Fearless 7, I really wanna know what you have in mind and also feel free to even make a post for every single one of them!

Thank you, I love ya! 🙏🏻

shout out to @kehnarii for sending me all these requests, you are truly a peach and I am delighted to answer anything you send <333

anyway, I have thought about these clowns a ridiculous amount and what better way to dump all those thoughts here because lmaooo what else am I gonna do with them. i'm going to keep them here, though, for simplicity sake.

Merlin

Merlin and Arthur are half brothers, having the same father but different mothers; Merlin's mother is the current queen of Camalot. They're from the same fairy tale but the dynamic is wildly different, so I thought them being half brothers would be kind of a neat spin. Arthur is the oldest of the two.

Had to study magic in some secrecy as the texts he used formerly belonged to Arthur's first step-mother who turned out to be a witch. This is partially why lightning, despite its versatility, is his only spell.

Vegetarian. Nothing else to say here. Just a vibe I get from him.

Bi-curious, I think. Definitely leans toward women, but he'd be lying if he said he hasn't found a man or two attractive.

Shit driver. Do they have cars? Probably not, but consider a modern day setting. He's the worst driver out of the seven of them. Has absolutely stayed at a right-on-red light way too long due to panic, pissing off everyone behind him. This but it's Merlin and Jack.

Decent with kids. Knows a couple of party magic tricks and kids tend to like them.

Arthur

Arthur has a younger half sister, Morgan--or better known as Morgana Le Fay--a witch who is mysteriously absent. She is the king of Camalot's second child from his second wife, which makes her Merlin's older half sister. Arthur was very close to her up until her disappearance; having been raised with a bias toward witches, it made for a rather difficult separation.

Not the dumb jock stereotype some people make him out to be! While he can be reckless, brash, and immature, Arthur does have political knowledge and knows the ins and outs of his kingdom.

Straighter than Merlin's parking but a very vocal ally. Jack just casually implied he was bi and Arthur just scooped him up in a big hug and told him he would always support him. Jack was high-key confused, low-key annoyed but appreciated the sentiment anyway.

Second worst driver, mostly due to not paying attention to speed limits. Or stop lights. Just not paying attention period. Low-key road rage.

Arthur is great with kids, probably because A) he is a big brother and B) he's a big guy so kids want to climb him like a jungle gym.

Jack

Adopted into royalty as his step-father, a king, married his mother after Jack defeated the Giant and made his family wealthy.

His mother has a tendency to be emotionally manipulative, only being a doting mother whenever he does something that benefits her, such as stealing from and slaying the Giant. She was kinder when his father was alive, but only got nastier after he perished at the hands of the Giant.

Although he had been pampered and brought up as a true prince since ever since his mother married into the royal family (he was about ten years old), there is a part of him that has not forgotten where he came from. He grew up on a farm. His father taught him how to fight. Jack is stronger than he looks and can be scrappy if absolutely need be.

While the other guys of the F7 drive him absolutely insane sometimes, Jack prefers them over his own family since he's allowed to be himself around them. He's gotten used to the princely persona, but there is a small, unacknowledged part of him that kind of hates it due to the role having been practically forced on him.

He does genuinely like nice things, though. Low-key bird brain.

Jack is the only multilingual of the seven, speaking not only English and French but also German and Italian. This is only a little annoying to Hans and the triplets as they can't hide anything from him in their native tongues.

Biologically, Jack is an only child. He does, however, have an older step brother whom he has mixed feelings for.

Bisexual with a leaning toward women

His name actually is "Jacques", but people kept pronouncing it as "Jack" and he eventually gave up correcting them. Will end the bloodline of anyone who calls him "Jackie", though.

Decent driver. Sometimes gets way too into whatever he's listening to and misses an exit or turn. Is usually the navigator or DJ. Is the type to yell "I will turn this car around" if people are arguing in the backseat.

Terrible with kids. The house is on fire. God is dead. Wine aunt.

Hans

Hans and his sister, Gretel, are twins, though Hans is the older of the two. It's where his mom friend demeanor comes from.

Is honestly the best liar out of the seven of them. He doesn't lie often, doesn't like doing so, but he has such an honest face and earnest demeanor that he can make anyone believe just about anything.

Pansexual but I don't think he'd know that about himself. He just likes people.

Best driver out of the seven of them, but does that soccer mom thing if he has to slam on the brakes unexpectedly. Can't read a map to save his life, though.

Also great with kids. He's also a big brother, and his genuinely kind and upbeat nature makes kids gravitate toward him.

Pino, Noki, & Kio

As they all have a very similar fashion sense, even they sometimes aren't sure whose clothes are whose.

They do have distinguishing features if one is to look close enough. The height difference isn't much, but it is there with Pino and Kio being the tallest and Noki the shortest. Kio is the only one with freckles. Pino has heterochromia with one blue eye and one brown.

They are introduced from oldest to youngest. Pino is the oldest of the triplets, Noki being the middle and Kio the youngest. Noki is only a little salty that Kio is taller than him despite being younger.

kio vc: you're older by like eight minutes

noki vc: I will break your knee caps

Terrible liars. They get flustered quickly and contradict one another. Can't keep a secret to save their lives and it's usually Kio who breaks first. (I know this is sort of contradictory, but they're based off Pinocchio so I think it'd be fitting if they were some of the worst liars among the seven of them.)

Noki read Jack's trashy romance novels. He thinks they're hilariously terrible. Would honestly probably like Twilight for the same reason.

Decent drivers but cannot be left in any vehicle alone together. If there's no else there to keep them on track, they will get way too into a conversation and get completely lost.

Have the potential to be okay with kids (that ending credit sequence give some the impression those three kids were low-key adopted by them or at least became assistants or something), but they do need to be kept in check due to their mad scientist energies.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Hi there, hello😊💜 I have a rather self-indulgent J question. If that's okay. But do you think he'd be protective of his s/o if he found out that they live and work in a super sketchy neighborhood? Stuff like not a single quiet night. Theft and other safety and health issues are always on the agenda, next to being worked to the bone. I'm just wondering because yeah🙃 Sending you all of my love and hugs, you're incredible🫂💖💕

Hey hi hello Sue🥺💖

Self-indulgent J questions are more than welcome, it's been a while since I got sent one!👀

I think J would be very protective of his s/o, even if they lived in a wealthy area with a low crime rate. He takes care of his possessions, his plans, so he takes extra care with you (perhaps it makes up for the lack of care he pays to his men and to himself).

With sirens blaring on almost every street, with the distant sound of smashing glass and running feet, the odd scream and frantic yell, it's not unusual for a stray car to go blazing down your road, waking you up from your threshold consciousness as distantly you wonder where your clown is. You're exhausted, worked to the bone at your job, overworked and underpaid (as are we all), and then you go home to worry about having your home broken into (by someone other than J; he likes to keep you on edge with that sometimes), to be kept awake by all of the aforementioned noises... but J protects you, even and especially when you think he's far away or disinterested or anything else you tell yourself to cause yourself displaced pain late at night. You internalise your frustration with your life, and J is often the focus of such destructive thoughts.

But he does protect you. He knows most of the plans that go on in your area; all of his men are trained to spy on the lower-class criminals, while J spies on the upper-class criminals (they're the most boring ones, extremely predictable, which only makes it too easy for J to blow up one of their cars just for fun). Between he and his men, there is always a car stationed a block or so away from your workplace. A different car every shift, and every morning you wake up with a number plate drawn on the condensation of your mirror or scrawled in lipstick across the shower tiles or on your fridge. Always erasable, and never the same number plate twice.

Twice is a choice, predictable, an almost established pattern - dangerous. Only too easy for harm to come to you. Unthinkable.

The car will take you home before it's sent to be destroyed, the man will be killed later on. You never travel home in the same car, and you never have the same driver. J does not trust his men. They are dispensable. He always sees to their death himself; he's the only one he trusts, because someone else could say they killed the man who drove you home, but actions and words are different. J only trusts the former. The latter is mere decoration; it's nice, but it isn't necessary.

You walk yourself to work, or you take the bus or catch a taxi, but you are always delivered home. Anyone who gives you grief at work is mysteriously a winner of the lottery a week later and then they're inspired to travel the world or whatever it is people who suddenly come into an obscene amount of money do (J doesn't care, he just wants them to go. away), or they're gotten rid of in a messier, but much more fun way. Your rent is always somehow paid - J doesn't want you worrying about that. You can get your own groceries and whatnot, but the rent is always paid for you. When a night of crime is on the horizon for where you live, J 'advises' you stay home and men are posted around your entire neighbourhood to make sure that harm doesn't come close.

A good dose of fear is healthy in moderation, but it's everywhere for you because of where you live, and J tries to minimise it if you want him to. You wouldn't even need to ask for him to do it, he knows what you want and need. Reading you is easy for the man who spends the majority of his time with you, and he has a detailed knowledge of your many intricacies. You're always so tired from being kept awake by the noises outside your home, and J does what he can to make sure that word gets around about your neighbourhood being a, uh, ba-ad place to cause chaos in. It ain't much fun since there's not much to do there.

In truth, J is protecting you. Quieter nights, nicer co-workers; he does what he can. He never takes credit for it, he never tells you what he's done for you. But you know. You know how quiet J's love is, and yet you can hear him yelling it at you. It's loud and clear so there's no misunderstandings between the two of you and your place in his life is concrete, just as his place in your life is.

He is the chaos, and you are the every day. Mundane, but not boring. J is the fireworks in the sky, green and purple so you know it's him thinking of you and letting you know in one of his favourite ways. Red if he's telling you to stay home tonight, blue if he's telling you it's safe. Secret, careful ways, but you've learned them well across the time you've both been together.

You are the safe and warm home that J can get cleaned up in, rest in, you provide him with a reason to do what he does - not that he needs one, of course, J does what he does because he can and it's fun and he's good at it. You are the stillness of the night, the solace, the peace and the one thing J is extremely protective of.

Nothing and no one harms you. Nothing and no one can even get close, they die before they so much as think about it because J knows. He always knows.