#Nan Writes

[nancyheart11]

Fan Joy July 1

Hyrule woke up. Suddenly urgency hit him like a rampaging Lynel and he sat up quickly, before he had to stop and hold his aching, throbbing head. Just what had he been– Where had the bunny gone? Was this a dream? Why had his head been lying on something soft? He spotted Legend and his heart calmed a little just knowing such a strong hero was nearby. “Legend? Why are you here? Are you looking for me?” Legend looked over with such an intense gaze Hyrule felt a shiver crawl down his back. The jumbled story of going to look for wood, finding an injured pink bunny and being chased by bandits flew out of his mouth, it was only stopped by the sudden realization the bunny had disappeared and  he had no way to prove himself to Legend. He must look like the most lazy hero ever! Sent to get wood and he didn’t manage that job. Legend must be so disappointed in him. He waited for the scolding that was surely about to come, his head held low since he couldn’t stand to see the look on Legend’s face. But instead of a lecture, there were arms around him? Legend was hugging him, why? “Ah… sorry sorry, you always panic if you are hugged suddenly. But I can’t help it.I’m so proud of you, Hero of Hyrule.” He didn’t know what to think, Legend saying he was proud of him? And looking at him with such soft eyes? Was this real? “Breathe, Rulie!” Oh, right, that was important. “Legend, I don’t understand . . . What I’ve done is- why did you say that all of a sudden.” “You will understand one day.” “But . . .” “No buts, now let’s go back to camp and treat your wounds. Can you walk?” “Yeah.” “Okay, let me hold your hand.” After a while of walking they encountered a hill. Legend started up first. “Watch your step! It’s slippery here.” He hesitated slightly and Hyrule’s gaze shot to the other hero's foot. The same wound on his right knee as the bunny, dragging the same foot, acting stiff, possibly from the anesthesic? And most suspicious he didn’t ask the cause of Hyrule’s wounds, as though he already knew. Could the bunny and Legend be one and the same?! ------- “Dinner is ready!” called Wild, immediately drowned out by, “PINK BUNNY?!” “Pink? Are you serious?” asked Warriors while finishing putting a bandage on Hyrule’s shoulder. “Yeah! It’s very cute.” he replied. “I want to see and hug it!” continued Wind at a more appropriate volume for sitting one Warriors distance away “If I find one, i’ll take a picture with my picto box!” “Maybe there are other colors besides pink? . . .” mumbled Warriors. “Hey, if we’re lucky, we might see the pink bunny family!” Wind hoped aloud. What Hyrule didn’t know was in another corner of camp where Legend was working on repairing his brown tunic, Twilight was hurting his already wounded chest by holding back his laughter. Legend glared harder at him while holding the needle threateningly, while Time and Four watched with a mix of amusement and confusion.

a little ficlet written about This amazing comic by @la-sera! I love her art and this is my favorite comic she's done yet!

[superstar-nan]

Fight Tooth and Nail

Day 5

Summary: You contemplate your strange relationship with Springtrap and talk with Michael about what to do next.

Words: 2,982

Fun stuff: Toxic relationships, insomnia, vague mention of child murder, and angst.

First ♡ Prev ♡ Next

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You wanted to leave Fazbear’s Fright for good. You had never wanted to run from that place more, not even your first night there. You wanted to pack up and leave—no goodbye, no mystery solved—all for your own sanity. Or maybe you just didn’t want to face Michael after that. Perhaps if you were more selfish, you would have left. At the very least you would have gone to Michael’s home and straight to bed. 

But you didn’t leave. Because you loved your best friend and you didn’t want to make Michael take the bus.

Instead, you laid down in the backseat of your car; your face flushed, your brow knit, and your heart racing too fast to fall asleep.

You almost kissed Springtrap.

You almost kissed a murderer.

You almost kissed a nasty decaying rabbit robot possessed by a serial child killer who was almost definitely responsible for your best friend’s disappearance.

How could you have allowed that to happen? 

Silver eyes lidded with deep, sweet obsession.

You buried your head in your arms, curled up on your side in the back seat. Your cheeks felt warm against your skin.

The very thought of kissing him was ridiculous. Even if he didn’t hold a murderer’s blackened soul, you didn’t even know if it was physically possible. He had tattered felt and rotten teeth for lips and metal rods where his tongue should be. At the very best, it would be like kissing an old stuffed animal. An old stuffed animal that tastes like sewage.

But that didn’t matter. You didn’t want him because he was lovely, you wanted him because he was terrible. Because he was as vile and sick inside as he was out. You didn’t know why you were drawn to him because of that—you had thought it was because he played an easy villain in your black and white story, but if that was true how could you want him in that way? If he was only an object for your hatred, why did you melt at his sweet, obsessive gaze?

You couldn’t get the image of his silver eyes, laced with infatuation, out of your mind.

It was because he wanted you. He craved you. He needed you more than he needed to kill you, and that desire softened you. God, were you really that weak? Was his obsession all it took to dissolve your will?

No. It wasn’t.

You weren’t in love with him. You knew from how your heart went cold at the thought of him anything other than miserable. You wanted him—you wanted him tortured and loving and miserable and obsessed—but you didn’t love him. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame, but you wouldn’t burn in the fire without him. Your hatred outweighed your desire.

How close was love and hate, anyway? 

Your breath felt heavy as you buried your face deeper into your arms. You wished you could stop thinking. You wanted to sleep, but sleep was avoiding you, and it was his fault. And because it was his fault, that only made you angrier, which chased sleep away even more—trapping you in this terrible, poisonous spiral. Maybe you could knock yourself out but smashing your head against the window. Maybe that would return your sanity and you’d stop lusting after rotten killer robots.

You couldn’t sleep. Minutes ticked by like hours and hours ticked by like an eternity. You laid curled in the backseat, unable to keep your mind away from the object of your hatred and desire, as the sun slowly stole any chance you had left of sleeping. It was only when light drifted into your car that dread started to pit into your stomach.

You would have to face Michael after petting his psycho dad on his lap. 

The more you thought of it, the more you wondered how much Michael really saw. The attraction was dark and the cameras were shit—he probably didn’t see much of what happened. Though, that left you with another problem, if he didn’t see what happened, what did he think happened? You were cornered by springtrap on camera, you were both on the floor for a while, and then he left you to run off unharmed—no new injury and no new scar. You didn’t kiss him, but did Michael believe that? Why else would you be allowed to live?

Why were you allowed to live? Another horrible problem to add to your piling list. The thought of Springtrap planning something awful enough to let you go without even a scratch was your limit. You didn’t have the bandwidth to even consider why he let you go, and so you wouldn’t. You knew you would regret that later, but you couldn’t force yourself even if you wanted to know what he had in store for you.

A shadow fell through the car window. You were still lying in the back seat, curled up with your face in your arms. Michael was back. You did not want to talk to him.

The car’s backseat door was opened softly, as if purposefully quiet. You didn’t move even then. 

There was a moment of tense silence. You wondered if he thought you were asleep. You hope he did.

A cold, spongy hand pet the top of your head tenderly. You were almost startled by the kind love in the gesture. Then, rough and chaffed lips kissed your crown. Your heart softened, and your troubles faded from view.

You tilted your head up, unburying your head from your arms. Michael’s void eyes widened. He must’ve thought you were asleep. He was kneeling in front of the car to match your eye level, the sunrise behind his dark hair in a corona of warmth. His mask was pulled down over his chin, but his cap and jacket were hiding him protectively. His mouth opened and closed, a silent stutter as he tried to articulate a way to explain himself. 

You couldn’t handle any harsh words or frustrated excuses, so you took his hand and kissed his palm. The strange texture of his rotten skin felt unnatural against your lips, but it didn’t unnerve you. In fact, it was oddly comforting; something becoming familiar to you. You had such trouble trying to fall asleep before, but for some reason just being around Michael made you sleepy.

Michael exhaled. He sounded tired. He sounded broken. A spark of curiosity flitted in your chest, but it was snuffed out by your own tiredness and brokenness. He used the hand you held to gently caress your face. You leaned into his hand, his thumb pressing softly against your cheek. When he pulled away, he looked genuinely taxed by it.

Michael closed the door, and you buried your face into your arms. You felt the front door open, the car jostling, and then the car humming to life. You didn’t rouse—not to put on your seatbelt, not to sit up, not to look outside—you stayed curled in the backseat with your eyes shielded from the light. Without seeing the road, you were more aware of how your body swayed to the car slowing, speeding, and turning. It was a short trip to Michael’s home, but it was made all the longer in your shame.

The car slowed to a stall, then to a stop with the jostling of keys. There was a beat of silence before the car door opened and shut. The air in the car was still. You vaguely heard the front door of Michael’s home open and close. In the sunlight, the car started to warm.

You pulled yourself up. You didn’t want to, but you knew if you stayed away from Michael for long, your mind would drift back to his vile father.

You were silent and cautious as you opened the front door. You heard the melodramatic static of Michael’s TV deeper in his home. You slipped past the door, cushioning its close behind you, and stalked into the living room. Colored light from the TV painted the edges of Michael’s silhouette, changing with each scene. You sat at the edge of the couch, holding a pillow against your chest and pulling your feet up on the cushions.

You watched the TV; whatever was playing was meaningless, which meant it was perfect. Your eyelids felt heavy. You sighed deeper into the couch.

“...I’m going to kill my dad.”

That woke you up. You whipped your head to Michael. He was still staring at the TV like it was interesting. 

“And I’m going to burn down Fazbear’s Fright,” He added.

You inhaled, quiet and purposefully subdued. What happened to Michael in those last hours you were in the car? He had always been so hesitant to tell you his intentions, and everytime you brought up killing his dad, he would change the subject. What changed? What was it that he ‘needed to make sure of’, and why did it resolve him to killing Springtrap? 

Whether the corpse would reveal his heart to you didn’t change your response, “Great.” You said, “I’ll help.”

Michael’s eyes, cold and void, dragged themselves from the TV to you. Just when you thought you were getting better at reading him, Michael was inscrutable. “...Is that what you really want?”

You hugged the pillow tighter to your body. Michael might as well have outright said he thought you were in love with Springtrap, and that filled you with poison, “More than anything.”

Michael’s cold expression didn’t change as those pitless eyes bore into you. You thought your hatred would help ease Michael’s suspicions. It didn’t. Maybe he found your passionate hatred just as unsettling as your love. You knew you did. “...Even more than finding your friend?”

Your heart broke, and Michael’s ice melted in an instant. You hugged the pillow in your arms tighter and turned toward the TV screen simply because it meant not looking at Michael. Hot, painful tears stung at your eyes and you tried to blink them away. “Of course, not.” Your voice was forceful and quiet.

Michael extended a hand, rotten fingers hovering over your shoulder for a fraction of a second, before he withdrew from you. It hurt your heart more that he decided not to comfort you. Michael let out a shaky exhale. The TV played dramatic monotony that wasn’t enough to fill the stale air, “You shouldn’t come.”

“I’m going,” You said almost instantly.

“I can’t protect you while I’m-”

“What?” You turned to him sharply, “Dodging Springtrap, trying to catch the place on fire? I doubt you’d even get to light a spark.”

Michael exhaled through his abraded nose, a frustrated and tense sound.

“Do you want to douse the place in gasoline?” You said, “Let me help.” 

Michael rubbed his hand over his mouth and jaw, a tightness in his movement. After a breath of thought, he said, “You can man the cameras.”

“What?” You almost laughed at that, “I don’t even know how to work them.”

“It’s intuitive,” He said. “And when you see Spring Bonnie, play the audio in the room away from me.”

“I can barely pick him out on the cameras!” You shook your head, “You said he was getting more aggressive and erratic, how am I supposed to keep him from you?”

“You can-” Michael paused, biting his torn, purple lip. “You can do it.”

“No, nuh-uh, you paused,” You crossed your arms. “You know I can’t do it. Let me pour the gas.”

“No,” Michael said your name, but you interrupted him.

“I’ve already circled the attraction enough to have it memorized.”

He said your name again, but you went on anyway.

“All while avoiding Springtrap, and even hurting him a few times.”

“Please-!”

“Even if he did catch me, I’d be a better distraction than-”

“NO!” 

Instinctively, you pulled away from Michael. That was louder than you had ever heard him.

“...No...” He kept his eyes downcast and you knew he hadn’t meant to yell. He pursed his shredded lips together, slowly tapping on the couch—a habit betraying his anxiety—and you saw his teeth grind together from beyond his cheeks. “Just... stay in the office.”

You swallowed, shifting the pillow around in your arms. The TV painted the two of you in muted colors, and you couldn’t let it play in the background anymore. You tentatively took the remote and turned off the TV. “...Why?” You made your voice quiet.

Without the dull light of the TV, your only light source were the golden flecks of sunlight from behind closed blinds. Void eyes were filled with pain as they briefly met yours. He cast them aside just as quickly. Rotten fingers dug into the worn fabric of the couch. His dark hair curtained his face, keeping you from seeing his expression.

You bit the inside of your cheek. You worried if you said anything it would only convince him to bottle up more.

Michael turned slightly toward you, but kept his eyes glued to the floor. “I was there, you know... Years ago, at Freddy’s...”

You held your breath.

“...I-... I didn’t see him do it. I didn’t see him kill them. But I saw them before. I didn’t know he was-” Michael swallowed. “He would wait until one was alone. He talked to them as Spring Bonnie. He would beckon them—like this,” Michael held out his hand as if he was offering it to you, before he clasped it in a fist, repulsed by the gesture. “They always took his hand. Even then, I felt like something was off. I wasn’t a child. I could’ve-”

You took his hand immediately, even as it was closed, “You couldn’t have known.”

Michael’s hand shook under your own, a wavering exhale leaving his tattered lips, “...No. But I know now.” He finally brought his midnight eyes to you, sullen with more than just rot and death. He clasped your hand in his, and the forcefulness of it surprised you. “I can’t lose you to him. I can’t lose you like how I lost them to him. Or like how I lost Charlie, or Elizabeth-” Michael stopped abruptly at the name of his sister. He took a deep breath through stalled lips. “I can’t lose you to him, too. If I could save just one...” 

Your brow furrowed with both pity and conflict, “Michael... You can’t put that on yourself. You can’t put that on me. You’re- You’re not responsible for-”

“I know,” Michael’s voice was soft, but it held so much weight. He chewed his bottom tattered lip, “I know... But, please... I need you-” His words caught in his throat and he inhaled sharply. “... I need you to be safe. Please.”

You thought you would break under the pressure of his stare. How could you refuse him? How could you ever tell him you were willing to burn if that meant Springtrap burned too? When he looked at you with so much desperation, so much agony—the agony of a decades-long burden you didn’t understand—how could you say anything other than, “Okay... I-... I’ll try.”

Michael said your name in a broken exhale, not satisfied with your superficial reassurance.

“I’ll stay in the office,” You said. “I will. Unless I see a clue or-or anything that points to my friend still being at the attraction.” You swallowed, “I can’t let them burn with the place. I won’t.”

Michael lowered his eyes and nodded, “I’ll look for them.”

Tears felt like they would burn your eyes again, so you squeezed Michael’s hand and gave him your best attempt at a smile, “While you’re dumping gasoline over the cheap decorations?”

Michael breathed out a half-laugh half-sigh, “Yes. I don’t think it will take much. The place is already a fire hazard.”

“I’ll be glad to see the place burn...” You said, and your heart thrummed at the thought of the place burning down. Of him burning down. You wanted to watch it happen. Maybe it was a good thing you would be in the security room, then you could watch it happen. Though, you would have preferred setting the spark yourself, seeing his rage and pain with your own eyes, him knowing you were the one to-

Michael squeezed your hand and you were brought back to reality. It was better you weren’t the one to light the spark. 

“Can you teach me how to use the cameras?” You said, “And tell me where Springtrap likes to hide?”

“Yeah...” Michael looked as lost as you were, searching your face as if you were the one that was inscrutable. “Yeah, I can draw you a picture actually.”

You thought back to his doodling in his security booklet and hummed, “Convenient.”

Michael scoffed, “I guess. It will be “convenient” if it saves my life.”

You laughed, before you paused, “Wait, you can die?”

Void eyes deadpanned, before an exasperated sigh left tattered lips, as if you asked something unreasonable—as if it was absurd to even ask! Michael stood up, shifting the weight on the couch, “I’m going to go draw those pictures now.”

“Don’t act like that’s not a valid question!” You threw a pillow at him while he left, which he caught and put back on the couch, “How would I know?”

“Get some sleep,” He said. “You look tired.”

“You look worse,” You said, but he was right. You were exhausted. Michael sat at his kitchen table and you thought about going to his bed to sleep, but hearing the sound of his pen scratching paper was soothing. You worried your mind would drift back to Springtrap without the white noise of Michael’s movement, and if you thought about Springtrap you wouldn’t get any sleep. So, you curled up on the couch and focused on the pen scratching on paper, and almost instantly you drifted into darkness...

[nanneramma]

WIP SNIP ✂️

Thanks for the tag @lumosatnight! (x) I'll carry on WIP Wednesday with a lil snip from a Drarry that I've been working on one sentence at a time for the better part of a year 🤦‍♀️

“I’ll—” “Don’t.” Draco smiled, just a quick quirk of his lip as he met Harry’s eye. “It’s hard enough to go as it is.” Harry nodded, his brow set in something like determination and his gaze still hot. There had always been something difficult about being looked at by Harry, like he was trying to memorise every inch of you. But Draco was slick with sweat and had his trousers unzipped in the men’s room at The Sniffy Niffler—not exactly how he wanted to be remembered. He looked away, tucking his shirt into his slacks with as much dignity as he could muster.  "Don't dawdle Potter, your little friends will be wondering where you are." It came out too soft, but he wasn't feeling very sharp this evening. Hard to be when he could still taste Harry’s sweat. Still feel the ghost of his hips under his fingertips.

Tagging: @uncannycerulean, @schmem14, @mugsdontlie

[the-ace-with-spades]

So, I imagine that Soap is around 5'11, which is not short at all, even if it seems so if you look at the people he works with.

However, from his whole family, he is the tallest.

His da is 5'8, his brother is 5'9, his sisters are 5'2 and 5'3 and his mam is 5' nothing. To his family, Johnny is not only tall but also overgrown.

(This is also why entering the military was a shock to the system --- Soap was used to being pretty tall if not the tallest person around and then boom, he's smol)

The first time Soap takes Ghost to his family home, he is instantly named a giant. Literally, his mam when she sees him says something along the lines of 'and I thought my boy was a giant' and his da makes the typical joke of 'what does the army feed you?' and one of Soap's sister says she 'woulda climb him like a tree too if she had the chance' and his brother goes all 'was gonna give the fella a shovel talk but I think he's too big too bury by myself any case'. Soap is so embarrassed by them but Ghost is awkwardly shy anytime his height is pointed out.

On top of it, he tries to help Soap's mam in the kitchen (I like to think he likes to cook) and there is the comical image of her, standing there tiny at 5'0 and Ghost towering over her at 6'3 or 6'4 (Soap's not sure, Simon slouches often) and trailing behind her as she orders him around. There's literally a moment when she goes to grab herself a step ladder to reach something on the top shelf and Ghost just stretches his arm a bit and gets it for her. She might or might not ask if he can dust the cobwebs from the corners of the ceilings she can't reach herself. (Ghost dusts the cobwebs, duh, even if Johnny can't snicker at him enough).

Johnny's brother uses Ghost's height to make his kid eat his veggies, 'if you eat your veggies, you're going to grow as tall as him'. Ghost goes along with it.

The kids in general treat him like a walking jungle gym --- especially because he's not only tall but also strong enough to function as a walking jungle gym. One of Soap's nieces who used to love piggyback rides from him now insists Ghost has to be the one because he makes her feel taller than Soap does.

They're supposed to sleep in Soap's childhood bedroom and Soap's da brings in an ottoman and a couple of pillows so Ghost's feet 'don't stick out'. Soap laughs it off until he realizes that Ghost's feet would, in fact, stick out from his tiny double bed if he slept straightened out.

[snailsgarden]

HIII SO I JUST THOUGHT OF THIS NOW WHILE REWATCHING SAIKI K

on one episode saiki gets stiff shoulders and has trouble with relieving it even with an ice pick or a iron pole right? so i thought what if his s/o massages his shoulders gently and his stiff shoulders are gone???? it'd be rlly nice if u could write that!!

tysm!!

★ those blessed hands!!

summary: he has stiff shoulders, you almost know how to do massages.

cw: physical proximity, physical touch🤕

earlier today, saiki had complained about his shoulder pain due to his uncomfortably-straight posture.

you, as a thoughtful lover, figured you might as well help him out with it.

you got him ice packs, didn't work.

now, you tried different things, an iron pole, making him lay on back resting positions..

didn't work.

now there he was, sat in between your legs, back facing you as your hands roamed his shoulders, skillful fingers reaching for his muscles as you pressed down on them, hard.

the boy would melt into the touch, and you could almost see flowers and sparkles around his figure as he sighed softly into the touch.

you kept on massaging his shoulders,

"is that better?"

there's a small pause,

"yeah."

as you continue on, he nearly falls asleep.

"I don't even know what the fuck I'm doing", you thought.

concerning.

[verysanebsdfan]

Saiki Kusuo dating headcanons

Saiki Kusuo x Average!GN!reader They/them pronouns used Not requested but I felt the need to post something<3

Okay so, y/n is the most average person in class 2-3. Unnoticed by all, but as we very well know, Saiki likes averageness. So after some time, he noticed you

He first only liked your averageness, but by the time, he made a habit of listening to your thoughts.

Whatever you were thinking about, he knew and mentally noted what you like, what you don't like etc.

After some time, a teacher assigned a project in pairs, and Saiki and you ended together. With the help of his powers.

You two exchanged contacts <3

After the project, you started hanging out more. Saiki really likes your averageness, but what he also loves are Teruhashi's jealous thoughts

"What are they doing with MY Saiki?! They aren't even that good looking! what does he see in them" Well Teruhashi, it's y/n<3

But Teruhashi's thoughts made Saiki think. Did he like you? nonsense- or....

He stopped with the denial phase when you gave him a birthday gift, a lot of coffee jelly. You would have gave him a coupon or take him to a café, but you know that he prefers quiet, not that it is quiet with other people's thoughts constantly sounding in his head. But when he is with you, he still feels comfortable, and doesn't mind the thoughts of other people as much<3

He feels guilty that you don't know about his powers, so one day, when you two are hanging out at his place, he tells you, with the cute guilty face, so you ask him to prove it or smth and then end up cuddling and telling him that you don't mind him being a psychic<3 that made him love you even more

After some time, he finally confesses. It went something like "I like you." but through gritted teeth "what?" "Don't make me repeat myself" *sighs in tsundere* and then you laugh together and BOOM cutest couple of PK academy to ever exist!

As big of a tsundere he can be, that mf still loves you as much as coffee jelly...no...more than coffee jelly

My guys love language is a acts of service<3

He may not be the greatest at expressing his emotions but, you don't have your favorite snacks? Look again. You don't feel well? He will make you a soup and a tea, and change the cloth on your forehead<3 Someone is rude to you or makes you uncomfortable? Please hold him so he doesn't do anything illegal.

And lemme tell you, his parents LOVE you<3 you are already basically part of the family.

My guy doesn't want you to meet Kusuke and he will do anything in his power for it to not happen.

I feel like even if you guys wouldn't wanna tell the friend group, they would discover it. Like in a really stupid way yk, something like Nendo saw you or Chiyo persistently asked if you have crush on anyone so you just told her because Saiki would be jealous if you made some crush up<3

I feel like he wouldn't leave you, and i hope you wouldn't leave him either>:(

you grow old together<3

Okay so this was my first x reader.

I hope it's good<3

Stay safe, drink water, take care ily always bye

[scrunkle]

hopefully breaking my hiatus soon...have a saikechi for your travels

also a doodle

[emergencyd4]

Drawing request from @raindoc :3

[ruuinxs]

HOW COME IVE NEVER REALIZED THEIR HEIGHT DIFFERENCE?? WTFFF???

it’s way bigger than I imagined oh my god 😭

[fanficriter]

Saiki K Boys with a Stoner! S/O

Warnings - Weed (obviously)

Characters - Saiki, Kaidou, Kuboyasu, Saiko

Gender neutral reader

This is my first time writing on tumblr, I apologise if anything’s messed up.

——————————————————————————

Saiki

- He's never tried it, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he just doesn’t care.

- Didn’t really care when he found out, he just shrugged and was like “ok.”

- You offered him some once, he said agreed, so you got stoned together

- “What a pain, I guess it wouldn’t hurt…”

- If he was smoking out of a bong, he definitely felt a bit stupid doing it

- He just kinda stared at the ceiling the whole time

- Doesn’t care if you smoke around him

- Very quiet while stoned

- He also has a bit of trouble controlling his powers

- He didn’t really touch it again after that

Kaidou

- Has never tried it, his mother always told him that he would die if he ever did drugs 💀

- When he found out that you did it, he freaked out because he thought you were gonna die

- “Y/N THAT WILL KILL YOU!! DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH OR SOMETHING?!”

- It took some convincing for him to realise that you were gonna be okay 😭

- He still worries about it occasionally

- When you offered him some, he refused straight away

- One day he got curious, and asked if he could try some

- You gave him an extremely small amount

- He had no idea what he was doing 😭

- When it hit him, he freaked out a little, but calmed down pretty quickly

- Becomes very cuddly when stoned

- After that, he didn’t really touch it that much, he would only do it if you guys were alone

- After a while he didn’t care if you smoked in-front of him, as long as it wasn’t in his house

Kuboyasu

- Used to do it occasionally, but didn’t really touch it when he decided to leave his delinquent life behind 🙏

- He found out when he caught you doing it behind the school once

- “IT’S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LI-“ “Can i have some?”

- He always asks the weirdest questions while stoned (me too bro)

- “Can the grim reaper swim?” (actual question i asked while high)

- Doesn’t care if you smoke around him, he will join you occasionally

- You guys had a competition to see who could smoke the most, you both ended up greening out

- Makes sure your limiting yourself, he doesn’t want you to get addicted

Saiko

- Has never tried it, he thinks it’s for losers

- When he found out you did it, he low key bullied you

- “Seriously? You know you shouldn’t be doing that, right? Where’s your self respect, y/n?”

- When you offered him some, he declined

- “That stuff is for losers!”

- You can smoke around him, but he will scold you and complain the whole time

- He never touched the stuff, and never will

——————————————————————————

Yay I did it!!! Feel free to leave requests in my ask box :3

[theyluvsavi]

The seaweed gets stuck in his limiters🧜‍♂️

[nancyheart11]

More Minish moments

Four snickered with the rest of them as Twilight admitted defeat and tucked the rupee in his wallet, though he felt a little baffled at how doggedly Twilight had tried to make sure it was in the right place. Was 5 rupees really that big of a deal? As it turned out, that was only the beginning of a series of strange events surrounding their Rancher. Later that day he bit into some bread only to find a kinstone! The next morning he woke up to find morning glories intricately braided into his hair, some of them still covered in glistening morning dew. It was after this incident that Twilight started to shut down. His responses went from fond warm things, to one word answers delayed by a bit, as though the single words took a great deal of effort to force out of his body. He found more arrows in his quiver that he could have sworn weren’t there before, Epona’s hair also mysteriously got braided all throughout with morning glories (Twilight actually seemed quite happy to match with his mare and let Wild take a picture on his slate of the pair). By day three of these small acts of kindness being showered on Twilight, Four had seen the flick of a minish tail disappear elsewhere several times and knew there wasn’t a drop of ill will in any of the acts, though he still wondered just what had happened to make Twilight the recipient of such bold acts?

[superstar-nan]

Fight Tooth and Nail

Epilogue

Summary: Just kidding :>

Words: 696

Fun stuff: Grief and mentions of death. I posted chapter 13 the same time as this one, so make sure you didn't miss it!

First ♡ Prev

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You didn’t go back home after you burned down Fazbear’s Fright. You should’ve. But you didn’t. You needed a few days to grieve, and you couldn’t do that at home where everyone acted normal and ordinary. Where nobody knew the hell you had been through. Your best friend’s family deserved to know what happened to them. But what were you supposed to tell them? They were murdered by a haunted serial killer bunny robot? You couldn’t tell them. You couldn’t tell anyone. In a few days, they would ID your best friend’s body amongst the ashes, and even then they wouldn’t know the full truth.

Michael knew. So you stayed with him.  

You got the feeling Michael wanted to be there for you more than you wanted him to. After you broke down in an anguished, desolate cry in front of a burning Fazbear’s Fright, Michael pulled you into an embrace. You didn’t want to be held by him. You wanted to grieve alone and away from anyone. But you knew if you had pulled away from him, it would’ve burned him more than the fire. So you let him hold you as you cried in the darkest despair of your life. 

He took care of you, and though you wanted to be alone, you still cherished his kindness towards you. He gave you the will to live, the least you could do was mumble a thanks as he bandaged your burns. You even allowed him to bandage your bite marks, but this time you wanted it bandaged. Through it all, You wondered if he was using taking care of you as a distraction from his own trouble.

You didn’t talk to Michael about your grief, and he didn’t talk about his feelings about killing his dad. Instead, you two coexisted in a heavy misery; the kind that you were able to forget briefly when curled up against Michael late at night, watching something unimportant and boring on the TV.

It was early Sunday morning, a few days after your five nights at Fazbear’s Fright, when Michael came home. You hadn’t realized he was gone. You sat up from the couch and yawned. On second glance, Michael looked quiet and heavy, as if there was something weighing on him.

“G’morning,” You slurred. Your eyes burned; you had cried yourself to sleep again. “Where’d you go?”

Michael didn’t answer you at first, and that made you shift, sitting up more fully. “Just out,” He said, like you would ever believe he was ‘just out’.

You fixed him with a more focused gaze, and he brushed it off, readjusting his hoodie and taking off his hat. “You haven’t left the place for days, and now you decide to leave at the crack of dawn to go ‘just out’?” 

Michael shrugged.

“You went to Fazbear’s Fright, didn’t you?” The words felt like sand on your tongue.

Michael stiffened slightly, almost imperceptible if you hadn’t been living with him for the past week.

You swallowed, and it was dry. “What did you find?”

“I didn’t say-”

“Michael,” Your voice was a plea, and you knew he couldn’t resist you when you were in genuine pain. “What is it?”

Michael set down his backpack and ran his hands through his dark hair with a shaky sigh, “He’s not there.”

A chill traveled your spine, sending a deep shiver through you, “What?”

“No endoskeleton was found. It should’ve been there. They found...”

“Bones,” Your voice was as cold as ice. “They found bones, but they didn’t find metal.”

Michael exhaled again, and it was a tired and weighted sound, “I’ll find him.”

“We’ll find him,” You corrected him.

Michael said your name in an exasperated sigh, but you interrupted him.

“We’ll find him.” You said firmly, “You’re not doing this alone.”

Something lonely softened in Michael when you said that, though you hadn’t meant it in a supportive way. He cleared his throat, and looked out the window, “It won’t be easy finding him. It might take a while. But... he’ll be back. He always comes back.”

You rested your head against the couch’s arm, “And we’ll be there when he does.”

[nanneramma]

quidditch, summer of '96

Harry/Ginny, for @microficmay day 3, prompt: revelation and @hinnymicrofic prompt: ride T

He’s always noticed Ginny; he’s just never seen her. Until he does: mud-covered cloud-rider. Sunset golden girl.

He sweats.

"Nice goal. Really — erm — clean."

She cocks a brow. He contemplates self-strangulation. 

"Clean?"

"Uh, yeah. Beautiful."

A gut-punch grin. "You're not too bad yourself."

She walks away. He watches every step. 

[the-ace-with-spades]

(another unfinished post i found on the way to glasgow - that was the longest train ride in my life - I'm sorry in advance)

When Ice finally passes away, at the age of 73, in his sleep, Bradley moves Mav into their house the same day.

He gets the call in the morning, while trying to simultaneously cook Jake's breakfast and try to make their daughter put on a rain jacket. It's not Mav, but someone from the hospital. Jake doesn't know this — Bradley's face twitches only for a second and then he's back to the nagging, relaxing tone and telling their daughter it's raining and it won't stop. Jake only finds out when he comes back home from the school drop-off and Mav is already there on their couch. Jake doesn't even get the full explanation until that night, just a quick, "Ice passed away overnight."

There's only their three youngest living with them at the time — their 18-year-old daughter who attends UC San Diego, and their 15-year-old son who is still in high school, and their 7-year-old daughter — so Mav takes one of the vacant bedrooms.

The first few nights, Bradley sleeps in the same bed with him. Neither of them looks like they get much sleep. They don't really eat, either, just drink coffee and nibble on the crackers.

The kids start coming back home, and their oldest helps Jake arrange most of the things for the funeral, at least for the first few days. Mav is... numb, not really there, and Jake understands — he would, too, if he woke up one day and his husband died in his sleep next to him. Bradley is silent, mostly, the way he usually rambles to fill out the silence, the way he hums, the way he sings at any given time when there are no words spoken, it's all gone and Jake doesn't know how to fill out the silence either, how to ask, how to make it better without asking.

Bradley doesn't cry, or at least not the way he knows Mav does — he can see Mav's red eyes every morning — but there's something empty in his gaze, in the way his eyes follow Mav and in the way he melts whenever Mav is around, always close, always brushing against him. Mav spaces out a lot, doesn't talk much, doesn't—well, doesn't do much. Every time he tries to help with something, paperwork, the funeral arrangements, the hospital bills, even just sorting out the kids' school leave or Jake's own work leave, he fumbles a bit, not really able to focus on anything for long, and it's like his mind is completely scrambled. Jake doesn't know how to help him — doesn't know if they even can.

The kids, well, did not take it well, as expected. The oldest two try to be brave and help Jake with everything, keep the house going, but their youngest daughter doesn't really understand why her pops isn't back, the middle kids don't understand why now — Ice was in remission, in good health, would go hiking with them once a month, play with them in the backyard, talking about plans for the future with them, nothing that would tell them to expect their pops passing away. Mav and Ice had taken care of all of them for years, while Jake and Bradley were still deployable, and helping out as much as they could. Ice was a huge part of their lives, since the very beginning.

Bradley is certainly not doing any better but one couldn't be able to tell if they didn't know him well enough. He's always been more for packing his feelings into a tight neat box, compartmentalizing until there is too much and it all overflows in some explosive way. His focus is mostly on Mav and the kids, trusting Jake to take care of anything he can't.

Jake can't even ask him how he's doing until the night before the funeral.

Mav tells Bradley he wants to be alone that night and Bradley lands in their bedroom.

He acts normal — checks the kids are in bed, checks on Mav, prepares stuff for breakfast in the morning, has a shower. Only when he sits down in their bed, their dress blues, cleaned and pressed sitting on the hangers hooked up on their wardrobe, right in front of him—only then he freezes, a blank stare still on the uniforms.

Jake sits down next to him on the bed. "Talk to me, Bradley."

"I knew it was going to happen at some point, I just," "I just thought we would have a few more years."

Bradley sleeps curled up on his chest — he sleeps the whole night, soundlessly, and Jake is almost settled.

Almost. Mav is a couple doors down, alone.

Ice's been—had been retired many years now, but he had been high enough in the ranks that the Navy still insists on making a military funeral. Jake tried to take away as much of the flashy bullshit as possible, but there are still things leftover — the sailors with the flag, the flyover. But there's no one who wasn't close with the family at the ceremony, there's no speeches, and no one tries to hand either Mav or Bradley a flag.

The wake has an even smaller amount of people, all packed in their house — Mav hasn't been at his own house since — and thanks to Slider, mostly, and his 'the bastard wouldn't want us to mope around', it's less sad and quiet.

Mav eats two slices of cake, which is the most Jake's seen him eat since, and even laughs at some stories about Ice people are exchanging.

Ice had a good life. A big family. A big happy family that loved him.

But life goes on without him. Jake goes back to work first, then the kids have to go back to school, then Bradley has to back to work. After a couple of days alone at their house, Mav starts bringing up moving back to his own house.

He's not really doing great. He's still quiet, still spaces out more often than not, still forgets himself sometimes, still freezes whenever he tries to say something and the we he uses is one person short. He's—lifeless, for a lack of better word, and seems like he's noticing it now that Bradley isn't with him most of the waking hours.

"That is our home," Mav tells them. "I can't abandon it forever, I'd be abandoning him, too, if I—"

Jake—Jake gets it. He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

Bradley's been fielding off any suggestions of Mav moving out but he's pretty sure that soon Mav is going to pack his stuff and up and leave without asking for permission.

"If he wants to move back home, we can't exactly hold him here. against his will."

"Jake," Bradley says. "I feel like—if we let Mav go back there alone, he's going to die of a broken heart and I won't have either of them anymore."

"Sweetheart—"

"I know it's selfish," he interrupts, "but I can't lose him, too. Not now."

Jake can't make Mav stay with them — so he finds the best solution he can and instead, they all move in with Mav. Hell with it, he's going to try to get everyone to live their lives to the end. They'd done it before, Mav, Ice, Bradley, Jake and their two kids under one roof, when their oldest two were their only two kids.

The two of them and two of their youngest; two of their kids move into their house so they don't have to sell it.

Mav lives on. They try to occupy his mind by throwing their youngest at him — ask him to take her to school, pick her up from school, take her to her gymnastics class, do her homework with her, teach her how to play piano. The other kids pick up on it, too, and their high schoolers would wrap Mav into doing math workbooks with them, or ask him to drive them to their friends' house, and the kids that have moved out ask Mav to go to lunch together or call him to ask him things about car and house repairs that don't exist.

Mav gets brighter every day. Never as bright as before, but no longer so numb.

Their daughter ends up never moving out and so do they.

They all get older but Mav holds up pretty well. He does break his hip when trying to wash the windows, had a limp and terrible back ache ever since, had to stop driving because he can't see shit, had to stop piloting even sooner, and his memory is also shit, but Jake is pretty sure his cholesterol is lower than his own and he has better blood pressure than Bradley. Bradley and Mav are the ones cooking after all, Jake is the one eating all the tasty but not healthiest food, and Mav's life revolves around spoiling his cute great-grandkids and Bradley's is filled with the constant stress of managing Navy's top flying school.

For his ninetieth birthday, Mav flies a fighter jet as a passenger, the oldest person to ever do that — his youngest granddaughter is the one to take him up in the air, a junior grade lieutenant herself. They have a birthday party held at their house, Mav falls asleep in the armchair, Bradley makes fun of him and promptly falls asleep on the couch, too. Jake loves them both so much and still kind of can't believe he has this — house full of grown-up kids and grandkids of his own, his graying husband of over thirty years, his father-in-law coming to an age he wanted to see his mother at.

They're cleaning up, their two daughters who still don't have kids and didn't need to go home helping, and Mav tells them he's going to get some fresh air on their veranda. "I've got a terrible headache," is all he says.

Half an hour passes, they've packed all the clean and dirty dishes, and Bradley huffs to himself. "He fell asleep on the bench again, didn't he," and goes outside.

Bradley shouts for him in less than a minute. The ambulance is there in eight. Within the half-hour and a CT scan in the hospital, the neurologist tells them Mav is too far gone to survive the day. Within six hours, every single person from their family has come to say goodbye. When they pass the seven hours mark, Jake stands up from the plastic chair behind Bradley — he's not about to tell Bradley he should rest, but he's been holding Mav's hand since the minute they admitted Mav to the ward and hasn't eaten or drunk anything all day. He tells him he'll go grab them a coffee and bagels and gets a little nod and a smile.

Jake comes back twenty minutes later and Bradley doesn't even look up from where he's gripping Mav's hand.

"Can you get the nurse for me?"

[dermy-der-demp]

what if kuusuke is visiting and Kurumi forces him not to play anything with kusuo because he was tasked with taking care of yuuta,yuuta comes in with a problem like "those kids hurt me,what do I do? :'(" and saiki calms him down actually listen to and given him some advice like

"if they do it again tell the teacher"

"but what if she doesn't believe me :'( ?"

"if she doesn't want to listen I'll talk with her and if they don't stop I'll tell your mother to change school ok?"

"O-ok"

so he kinda realizes that he didn't have that with Kusuo, his brother couldn't confide him the slightest problem or at least mention it to him,he realizes what a fucking bad brother he is and,he realizes that Kusuo beat him by being at least a better brother than him.