#and i think it'd be fun to do that with the graves

[thosegothsims]

hiiiiiii yall i didnt mean to disappear life just got busy and i didnt have the time or energy to dedicate to my sims stuff </3 but hopefully as the new year comes around i will get back to playing!! i miss the graves and the bereys

[inzuinzudesu]

Please zoom in to see small Kakashi! 😭 He kinda disappeared 😭😭😭

Text translation: "Infinite Tsukuyomi" (無限月読)

Drew these in mid-July - when I started doing digital again actually 🤔

Took inspo from the Balut - a street food in my country; I hear a lot of people are grossed out by it?? Don't know if this is controversial, but I personally love the dish. Essentially grew up with it after all!

Wanted to draw something that feels a bit creepy but still has a sense of mysticality to it???

Meh, don't know if the feeling got across or not

I thought since Halloween is coming up, might as well post this haha

About the process of drawing these!

These were very fun to draw! I messed around a lot with photoshop to achieve this glowy dusty effect?? From the brushes to the blending options, and maaan the filter gallery 😭😭 Such fun tools to play with.

The main brush I used to achieve the dusty effect is called "KYLE Bonus Chunky Charcoal", in the Kyle Dry Media brush set. If you can, I recommend checking it out! There are definitely other ways to achieve this sort of effect, though. You can probably just use some sort of scatter texture brush and it'd work just fine. Studying is all about trying things out, right? This is like my first experiment with this type of effect, and I was happy at the time. Now looking back, these could most definitely turn out better, no? I really went overboard with just the effect and forgot everything else. The blood and the plate looks horrible man. If you look closely, you can see the sketch lines haha! I got lazy!

Also, for Obito's pose, I relied heavily on a reference I found on pinterest 😭 I wish I'd changed the pose more tbh, it looks really boring.

And I gotta say, these just look underwhelming in this smaller size. Like reaaaaaally underwhelming. Would love to show you the big version, but oh well! 😭😭😭

Brain vomit time!

I love the prospect (??? is that the right word) of Obito being all god-like and powerful after Tsukuyomi, having control over everybody's dream worlds?? And like he jumps from dream to dream, but stops at Kakashi's and picks it apart???? Observing and tormenting Kakashi with his childhood form that has both sharingan???????

Kakashi would probably be confused with Obito's appearance at first, asking questions like "What are you up to this time, Obito?", but then wouldn't receive any answers??? Like little man would just stare at him creepily, and Kakashi would push this to the back of his mind for a while???

Umm below is the technical stuff, I guess??

My headcanon is that the time span in the dream world is the same as the real world. Meaning, 30 years in the dream world feel incredibly real, with no gap of memories. It's essentially a different timeline. Whether this makes sense or not, who knows haha!

Let's talk about the dream events and how they affect Kakashi! Due to Sakumo and team Minato still living, this Kakashi probably wouldn't be as lax nor sad as in canon?? The relationships and personalities would be different huh???? I'm having a headache thinking about this, so let's just say that: 1. Sakumo lived because the villagers weren't as harsh, but the animosity still remained. Kakashi still developed this obsession with rules, but he doesn't blame his dad as much. 2. Kannabi happened, Kakashi was given the sharingan, along with Obito's ninja way. Team Minato thought that Obito died for a while, but Obito is 'rescued' by Madara, same as canon. 3. Rin would still be targeted by Madara, but Obito came in time to help with the situation, blocking Kakashi's chidori from connecting with Rin's chest, but also knocking Kakashi away. Then, a Mist enemy took advantage of the situation to attack Kakashi, injuring him gravely, to the point where everybody thought he died. With this, Obito activated his Mangekyou and exploded on the Mist enemies, killing them all. Meanwhile, Rin tried to heal Kakashi, just barely saving him. As Obito had dealt with the enemies, there was no need to rush back to the village, and the Sanbi wouldn't be released till then. And so, they waited for Minato to come and help with Rin's seal. (About Obito's Mangekyou activating with Kakashi's death - would that be too far-fetched? My reasoning is that Obito would think that it was his fault Kakashi died, because it was Obito who knocked Kakashi away into the enemy, no?) 4. Because there's no one to become 'Madara' now that Obito came back to the village, Naruto is born, Minato and Kushina live.

5. The Uchiha massacre doesn't happen.

(Everything is incredibly convenient, because I don't have the brain power to make it otherwise, please help 😭😭) -> In conclusion, this Kakashi resembles the Kakashi of the real world, but less depressed and self-destructive??? He loves his living comrades. My man still has a massive obsession (more like crush lol) with Obito by the way, just like in canon. He just doesn't show it.

-> About Obito of the dream world (I'mma call him Dreambito), he is all sunshine and brightness, but he exhibits some dark thoughts and deep rage from time to time due to the residual effects of Madara's seal on his heart. The seal has been removed though. And he has this obsession with Kakashi's safety, as he almost pushed him to his death once, albeit accidentally.

-> I was debating whether to just start this dream world at the point where Obito got crushed, or to start it at the beginning of Kakashi's life. In the end, I went with the latter, cuz ya know, I like the idea of Kakashi living through a whole life all over again, just to finally come to the realization that it's all a dream. Does that make any sense at all??

Obito (child form - 13) first appears in front of Kakashi at the start of the Naruto series, when Kakashi has officially become the teacher of team 7. (Let's not change this okay, my brain would fry haha I'm not gonna deny that the idea of Obito and Kakashi becoming co-teachers of team 7 isn't incredibly fun though)

After the first encounter with this child Obito, Kakashi begins to have flashes of memories from the real world, and he hallucinates about people's deaths - mostly about the members of team Minato. This young Obito is always in the corner of his vision, most of the time silent, sometimes saying things like "You trash" to Kakashi whenever he encounters Rin, who is whole and grown up in this world.

Kakashi exhibits more destructive behaviors as this goes on, the line between the dream events and the real events slowly blurring. He takes more dangerous solo missions out of the village, and shows strong signs of PTSD, just like in canon.

The two Obitos would contrast each other?? Like Dreambito would be all concerned with Kakashi's decline in health (both mental and physical) and goes to confront and comfort him, many times over because that's how it is with them??? Dreambito might even move in with Kakashi, being the obsessive and protective Uchiha that he is. Meanwhile young Obito would be an absolute asshole, saying all these horrible things to poison Kakashi's mind haha

At this point, Dreambito'd be in the last stage on the journey of becoming Hokage, gaining the all the trust from the Uchiha clan, the village elders and the villagers as a whole. I don't know about Rin, though? Should she be romantically involved with Dreambito or no? Would Kakashi dream that??

I think Kakashi's dream would somewhat focus more on Dreambito being happy and satisfied, to be honest. I know there's Sakumo and team Minato as a whole, but as a degenerate shipper, I love the obsession between them🥺

I don't think Obito would directly interfere with what Kakashi is dreaming about, i.e. changing Dreambito's behavior, or like the political situation of the villages (?). But he would most definitely insert himself in Kakashi's psyche, no? Mess it up real good.

Kakashi would slowly realize that he is living a dream world, after all the flashes of memories that Obito generates in his mind. He would most definitely deny it at first though, I think? And then it would reach a point where Kakashi remembers everything from the real world, but he has also lived through 30 something years of the dream world, meaning he'd be in his 60s?? Does that make sense or no?

And so, while Kakashi now knows that everything is a dream, his feelings for everybody in the dream are real. If that's the case, is it really that important anymore that he escapes the Tsukuyomi? Can this dream world really be called fake at this point? Is there even anything in the real world for him to return to?

What's to say 'the real world' isn't a dream at this point?

-> Kakashi would completely close in on himself after this. He still does things that he would normally do, but it'd be all an act. He would feel completely isolated.

-> Dreambito would notice and confront him again, now that they live in the same house??? Kakashi would like say everything is fine and try to act more convincingly, but Dreambito would still know something's wrong????

-> Obito is observing from afar, who knows what his motivation is at this point.

Because this is Kakashi's dream world, I suppose he would have the power to change this world to his will, now that he's aware? This is like a lucid dream situation???

The people in the dream have their own will up until this point, but Kakashi can somewhat change their behavior if he really wants to, whether it's subconsciously or not??? Example: He can probably will Dreambito to kiss him or something lol

So on and so forth!

Man, I'm having waaay too much fun imagining the pain. There are probably like a thousand things that doesn't make sense haha! I do wonder how this sort of storyline should end though, does anybody have any ideas? Personally, I prefer slow burn with a (sort of) happy ending, but ya know, angst all the way is good too! I can't write, but I love thinking about all the things that could happen 😭😭 English isn't my first language, so this might have felt weird to read at some point haha

If anybody wants to develop this, please feel free to do so! And if you've read this far, thank you for reading this absolute brain vomit of mine! I love to yap, as you can tell haha Have a good day!

[the-ace-with-spades]

(I adore fics where Johnny’s family loves Ghost from day one, but, you know…angst)

Soap and Ghost had been together for almost two years. They never name the relationship, really, but it's serious and they both know it.

Thing is, Johnny's seen Ghost's face a total of four times, counting Las Almas.

Well, he sees parts of it regularly, more than others. Ghost will either roll the balaclava up when they're reading together in bed or when they're eating. Sometimes, when Soap wants to go out and Ghost indulges him, he goes in public in just either a face mask or a gaiter and Soap can see his short wavy blonde hair sticking all over the place and 

The four times he had seen Simon’s face in it’s whole — obviously, Las Almas; one time when he was unconscious and bleeding from a head wound and Johnny had to check; one time when they took a shower together, Simon stayed with his back toward him through most of it, but when they finished, he let Johnny dry off his hair; one time, when Johnny asked him to see him for his birthday presents, a few minutes after midnight.

Johnny wasn’t sure why exactly Simon didn’t want to show him his face. It wasn’t a trust thing — he trusted Johnny with more than his own life — and it wasn’t like he was ugly — he was downright sinful. He never drilled the topic because he didn’t care, if SImon wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready, but if he had to guess, it was all to do with identity and being seen. No one knew his face — people could know his name, Simon “Ghost” Riley, but they wouldn’t know the man behind the mask. Wouldn’t know the people behind Simon “Ghost” Riley.

(Johnny wasn’t completely off on the assumption — Simon didn’t want anyone to know his face because faceless people weren’t missed. Faceless graves — like his own — didn’t have people to leave behind, and faceless soldiers didn’t have loved ones to find and he was both. No one could get hurt if he remained faceless. Or at least that’s what he’d been telling himself.)

And Johnny is okay with that — if Simon never showe him his face again, he’d still love him all the same. Johnny’s family? Not so much.

They’re supposed to be in Glasgow for five days total, leaving after Boxing Day. Johnny gives them all a warning, that Ghost is a bit shy and doesn’t like showing his face, he’ll most likely stay covered the whole time, he might be wearing a balaclava, or a mask, he probably won't eat at the table.

When they arrive at his parents house, it almost seems like everyone forgot. Like everyone thought it'd be more mild or that Johnny was exaggerating.

There are looks. There is silence. People can't stop staring.

His mam takes one look at Simon’s balaclava once they enter the living room and looks funny at them. “Ah thooght Ah tauld ye boays tae strip doon.”

“Mam, lea him alane,” he tries but he can tell that Simon is getting tense and his mam is getting tense.

His mam, who is usually the sweetest person ever, is uncharacteristically quiet and curt whenever Simon is around. Simon doesn't really know how to make it better — Johnny's never seen him so silent outside of stealth missions, he just stands there like a sore thumb, not making anything less awkward. He didn't expect him to — Simon's social skills are lacking and he loves him that way — but he expected his own family to not make such a big deal out of that mask.

His da is stern and silent, which is as disapproving as he gets. His sisters are a bit weirded out, but mostly focused on teasing Johnny, even making fun of the mask. With a stupid grin, his older sister asks, “Does he keep it oan in bed?”

Johnny doesn't say anything to that, even though his face feels red. His sisters stop laughing.

“He does?” When Johnny tries to step out of the room and avoid the conversation, his sister’s tone changes. “Hae ye e’en seen his face?”

“O’ coorse Ah hae,” he spits out. He doesn’t specify it was only four times — he doesn’t think it’d help. “And ‘s a bonnie ane, alricht.”

It doesn’t save the situation and his sisters are also weirded out and wary from then on.

 The kids do not care — they ask maybe two questions, tilts their head as Simon explains and that’s it — and Johnny breathes a little easier as soon as his nieces push Simon outside to help them build a snowman.

The judgment doesn’t stop. Johnny’s blood boils any time it shows and even though Simon says it’s all fine, he can’t stop feeling angry about this. They just can’t get past the mask.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day are difficult to Simon and Johnny knows it. He’s given him the option to omit the family dinner on both those days if he’s not feeling alright enough to spend those days in crowdy house filled with a flock of loud and cheery people of all ages.

Simon knows this. He also knows that if he says he wants to stay at Johnny’s flat for the time being, Johnny is going to insist he doesn’t have to go either, that he’d prefer to stay in with him and not go for the Christmas dinner. Which he also knows is bullshit — Johnny loves Christmas, loves spenidng time with his family, that was basically why he kept on insisting Simon couldn’t stay alone at the base for Christmas another year in a row. It was the main reason why he agreed to go with Johnny in the first place, he was pretty sure if he didn’t go with him, Johnny would insist he stays, too. 

So Simon stays in for Christmas Eve — or rather goes to a pub while Soap spends the day with his parents — but insists they go to Christmas dinner. 

His family is disappointed to see him there, to the point the usual manuevering around politeness and disapproving go onto a backburner.

“John said yer nae a fan o’ Christmas,” Johnny’s mum says to him pointedly.

“That’s right.”

“And yet ye’r ’ere,” she notes.

Johnny is far away from the earshot and he doesn’t want to lie to her so he admits, “If I didn’t come, Johnny would insist on keepin’ me company.”

“How come ye dinnae try to hae a bit mair cheer fur th' holidays then? Put a bit mair effort in for ma baby.” 

Johnny notices and soon enough, he’s next to him, their arms brushing, Johnny’s hand on the small of his back. “Lea him alane, mam.”

“It’s fine,” he says even though it’s not fine. They deserve an explanation, even just to know what they son is getting himself into. “My family was murdered on Christmas Eve. I’m—I’m trying.”

The silence falls over the room — Johnny’s mum, dad, his sister, all present, not looking at them. Simon closes his eyes, tries to breathe.

Johnny rubs his back. “Let’s gae home.”

“I’m not ruining Christmas for you, Johnny,” he says. Before Johnny can deny it — and he knows he’d try — he tries to placate, “Let’s just have ourselves a minute to calm down.”

Maybe it’s the way his voice is perfectly levelled or the way his hand trembles as he squeezes Johnny’s, but he lets him leave the room.

He steps outside — to the backyard. Sits down on the step to the garden and lets the snow soak through his jeans and the top o his balaclava.

The kids come outside, tripping over Simon’s legs. They were all oblivious to the trails and errors of Simon’s integration into the family, so they approach him as always

“Whit's wrang?”

There’s just something so innocent in having a six-year-old girl covered from head to toe in pink and glitter worry about you. Simon would never admit it in front of Johnny, but he finds the accent cute.

Simon takes off the mask.

The kids all look at him and look at him, a bit unsure maybe a bit fearful — it can be a scary sight, he admits, the elongated, jagged smile that sticks to him no matter the mood, makes him more crazy than he already is — but only one of Johnny’s niece keeps her eyes on Simon’s face. 

Shily, she asks, “Does it hurt?”

“No,” he replies. When she smiles, he smiles back.

Not anymore.

This is Johnny’s family. Simon can deny it all he wants, but Johnny’s seen him as family, as someone he’d leave behind, and it hadn’t been unrequited. He can’t hide behind a mask forever and maybe this was the kick he needed.

He steps back inside when his hands turn numb. He doesn’t put the mask back on.

Johnny’s eyes widen. “Simon?”

Simon just—smiles. He can feel the scars pulling on the corners of his mouth, the stiffer skin, but he’s not faceless. He’s not been faceless for a while.

Edit (29/03/24): This is now a WIP for a minimum 15k fic, titled don't shoot me, santa, that will have 4 chapters and will be posted (hopefully) later in the year

[papakhan]

I'll make my own post actually. I think it's an under appreciated detail and piece of characterisation how the courier is buried not only fully clothed but also carrying stimpaks, caps, and their weapon of choice (and we know its THEIR weapon because the game gives you whatever type of weapon you scored highest in with skills). And sure its just a game mechanic thing but they could have just as easily had Doc Mitchell say "here's some stuff of mine to help you out" but he explicitly says "here, this is all you had on you". Also I need you guys to ignore the DLC dumping all that shit on you at the start of the game okay forget about it. I know it's funny but it's not what I'm talking about

It's interesting no matter who you pin this behavior on. If it was Benny preventing the Khans from robbing the courier as they would any raider victim, then that's just another layer of him thinking he's being respectful about the ordeal. Or at the very least enjoys having power over the Khans and ordering them around.

However my headcanon is that it was the Khans who buried the courier in this way. And I say this because they bury the courier in the same way they bury Chance, another Khan whose grave you can find in game, in his armor and with his weapon. And I just think it's fun and interesting to think that these guys who, from the comic we know wanted no real part in any of this and are only here for money, laid the courier to rest in the most respectful way they knew-- like one of theirs.

And actually according to one of the trailers the couriers hands are unbound while in their grave so. And they're still fully clothed. So actually Doc Mitchell giving the courier the vault suit is more likely because he had to dispose of their og clothing because yknow. It'd be filthy from being in the ground and on the couriers comatose body (do you know what the body does when it's comatose. Trust me you don't want those clothes back) and also knowing emergency medicine the courier was probably cut out of their clothes because if you're concerned about a head/neck injury cutting clothes off is less disruptive then trying to wiggle an unconscious person out of them and possibly causing more damage.

Anyway. Either way the Khans and Benny still show more respect to the couriers "dead" body then the courier/you the player show to any of your victims I mean. How many powder gangers did you strip naked and leave to rot under the desert sun? Or legionaries? Or raiders? Or the Khans themselves? Much to think about

[takami-takami]

Like Idiots.

includes— hawks x reader. fluff. minors dni.

warnings— gn!reader. pining like idiots. keigo is a pain in the ass. the reader is worse. i had fun with this. <3

There is zero need for Keigo to make a confession when it comes to his crush. It would be entirely redundant to confess. 

Your sigh at the thought is palpable. It really is quite a shame.

Part of you yearns for that passionate drama of an ending, where in some novela-inspired twist of fate, your adoring knight is forced to spill his love at your feet. In your daydreams— the ones dreadfully reminiscent of some lovelorn teenager's— a faceless villain from fuck-all-nowhere nearly ends the life of his beloved hero partner.

And the words spill from his throat like his lovesick sobs, clutching you close to his chest while you do your best to pretend you're not biting back a smile at the attention. 

"I love you! I've always loved you," he'd cry. 

Or something like that. 

And you'd kiss, and sparks would fly, or whatever. 

End scene. 

You're not getting that confession, though. 

It figures your love life would turn out to be a comedy. Par for the course of your life, you suppose. 

Instead of a scrawled letter sealed with wax or a poem whispered under the imposing moonlight, your confession is written all over Keigo's face— well, not all over, exactly. Every centimeter of his face conceals his emotions meticulously, flawlessly.

Every portion of his face is perfectly practiced and impeccably controlled; except for two measly little points. 

You prod at your food again with your fork in hand, all frowns as you sit across from your work partner in a booth at the diner he likes to drag you to on your lunch breaks. 

And you stare uncomfortably into the most cartoonishly blown pupils you've ever seen.

"Um. Hawks?" 

"Yeah? What's up, chickadee," he asks sincerely before chomping down messily on a battered chicken drum, moaning and letting his eyes fall shut as he does with every meal— typically an obstacle for your focus, this accidentally whorish display is actually a welcome reprieve from your racing thoughts.

When his eyes flutter open once more, you're faced once again with black saucers and the sound of reckless chewing. His pupils are still dilated like a cat tripping balls on the dealer's finest catnip.

"Hawks, I really think I should tell you that—"

Your intervention is rudely interrupted by a waitress in a 50's style apron and folded paper hat combo, likely rushing over notepad in hand to get first dibs on serving a celebrity. 

You would prefer to be unfair. It'd be easier to displace your frustration for your lot in life onto this poor woman, to tell her that her hat looks stupid and pink isn't her color, that she should really just stop trying. 

You decide to be an adult. 

Keigo, on the other hand, does not. Like a child given free reign to order for himself at a restaurant for the first time, he explains that she should really heap on the sugar for his coffee.

"No, no, no. More than that. Like syrup. I want it to taste like it's gonna put me in an early grave and— wait, where are you going?"

The debacle brings to attention another phenomenon that you've grown accustomed to seeing:

The second his gaze meets her's, Keigo's pupils shrink to points once more, constricting to tight dots before bouncing back to their natural size. And predictably, once again, they expand like blown glass when you catch his attention.

"Hawks!"

"Yeah, what?"

His chewing ceases obnoxiously, chicken drum in his right hand and half-chewed remains in his left cheek.

You might as well rip it off like a bandaid. You let out a puff of air.

"Your eyes," you attempt to gently point out. 

"Mm?" Keigo's head tilts to the side, pondering your observation for a moment.

"My eyes? Ohh," he drags his words as if in realization, treating himself to another chomp into the drumstick. "You gettin' lost in them, huh? Happens, dove. You can stare, I don't mind."

"No!" You squeak out your denial before smoothing down your shirt and tipping your chin high. 

You have the upper hand here. Remember that.

"I mean," you correct your course, staring down and poking at your plate while a smile creeps up your lips. "It's kinda hard not to when your pupils look like they're gonna swallow your goddamn irises."

The silence that follows is deafening.

"Kei'?" You flick your gaze up toward him, worried now.

Under normal circumstances, it's an established habit for Keigo to slot one palm over his mouth when called out. 

But this time, that hand bypasses his lips, crawling upward to reach his visor and wordlessly drag it down over the source of his shame.

A stronger person than you would hold back their laughter. They would take pity on the flush rising over his cheeks and neck like sunsets. Perhaps they would coo praises to soothe him, or even take it all back to ease the shame and discomfort that makes him feel utterly naked. 

They would take pity on the man who, under the fluorescent high beams bolted to the diner's ceiling, looks just like a clown tripping on stage with the spotlight shined on his face.

You are not a strong person. 

In your hysterics, you reach over to pry the barrier off his eyes, climbing into his lap and over him like tussling teenagers. 

"Keigo, I didn't say it was a bad thing—"

"You're laughing," he laments like a kicked puppy, prying your face an arm's length from his with a single palm. 

It's over. This is it for him. His life is over, he's going to have to change his identity. 

He can start fresh with a new hero name, one not centered around red-tailed hawks— he'll need to rebrand as another bird, most likely. Preferably one with the same signature red feathers so as not to make a fuss for the merch department.

Maybe a parrot. 

Winged-Hero Parrots.

"You're laughing at me!" 

"I'm not laughing at—" another uncontrollable wheeze. His wings flap in indignance once, slamming against the cushions of the pink diner seat before drooping down like a dog's tail between its legs. You pluck the visor and raise it above your head out of arm's reach, one hand planted against his chest for stability.

"Not laughing at you! Baby, I promise—" 

"Baby?" He repeats.

The silence is worse the second time around— but luckily for you, Keigo is a stronger person than you are. No laughter erupts from his chest, no smirk settles on his face. 

If anything, your slip up seems to elevate his heart rate more than yours.

"We really should—"

"I think we need to—"

Both sentences collide in the small space between you, his lips completely still and mere inches away from yours. 

You're reminded of the feeling of your fingertips about to touch metal after being charged with static, the skin crackling with the air's tension as you contemplate whether to just get it over with and touch.

And slowly, as if suddenly cognizant of your bodies and environment, you both crawl off each other and scoot toward the furthest edges of the booth seat.

Your knees make their way toward your chest for comfort, while Keigo's wings drape over his shoulders like a cocoon. 

"We should talk."

[coupleoffanfics]

Hey, it’s almost 1am and I’m riding the angst train I wanted to ask ur opinion on something.

How would the fam react to Y/n getting grievously I hired or dying by the hands of a villain or by Jeremiah and getting caught in the crossfire???

❤️❤️❤️

I'm so glad that people like reading my stuff. It's more self-indulgent, but what fanfic isn't self-indulgent?

Anyway, I'm so excited by seeing this ask because it sounds fun to write about. Let's start with the "less" angsty one. y/n getting gravely injured (I'm assuming that's a typo) by a villain.

TW: Mention of suicidal ideation once and gore.

Getting Gravely Injured by a Villain

It'd depend on the Villain. The family is going to act accordingly in their personas. Their punches are probably hitting harder than usual.

Jason might shoot the villain in the head, but ultimately can't. He's in Gotham following the Bat's rules slightly. So he'll just shoot their knee.

y/n isn't Batgirl anymore. So that means the villain must know the publicity they'll get by attacking, kidnapping, or holding a minor celebrity would give them. The fact that it's Bruce Wayne's daughter who's painted out to be a saint by the media would spread like wildfire. They'd have to be doing it to get attention or money.

How severely y/n was harmed doesn't matter too much. Bruised, broken bones, stabbed, etc are going to make the family more protective. Trying to persuade y/n into coming back to the manor, so that they can keep her close and prevent this from happening again.

Now the Valeska twins will differ in how y/n gets hurt and their reaction.

Jerome is like a child on a sugar high when with y/n. Wouldn't deliberately harm her in any way. Kidnaps y/n and go on a joy ride around the city even though she has no choice and isn't finding any joy from this. She'll probably get a scrape on her legs or arms from falling because Jerome is running too fast while he is holding her arm. Maybe have a bruised arm or wrist because of how tightly he holds her.

He doesn't think too much about things and will get into dangerous situations. Pick a fight or mock the wrong person leading to a shootout. He's having too much fun to care about anyone until y/n is hit.

One of the family members finally caught up to Jerome and was ready to— oh, my God y/n is bleeding from her side! Oh, fuck! AHHH! Jerome knows he can leave y/n in the hands of whatever bat family member showed up. She'll be in good hands while he hunts down the one who shot her.

"I know you're one of the 'good guys', but take care of her. If I hear that you did something that upsets her I'll— actually, I'll keep that a surprise." He looks at y/n who is just bleeding on the floor and in pain with a big ol’ smile. "I'll make sure to give you the head of that fucker who got you. Until then see ya later, toots!"

After that y/n is forced to stay in the manor. They made a deal that it would just be a few weeks, but her stay is indefinite.

Bruce

Opens the door one day to find a large box. It wasn't a delivery because it has no shipping information on it. Just an envelope with y/n's name on top of it. Bruce opens the envelope first and reads the letter which has poor handwriting.

Hey, doll!

Hope you're resting up and not in too much pain. I didn't think picking on a mob boss would get so messy. They just couldn't take a joke. I'll pick a more private place for our next date cuz I know how shy you are. Hope seeing them brightens your day. Made sure to get rid of the eyes since I know how you don't like too many eyes on you. Didn't know who shot you, so I just killed everyone who was there.

Love Jerome.

Bruce doesn't need a minute to take things in. He already knows what's in the box and sends it to the authorities. Does not mention a word of this to y/n. She is already going through a lot and best to not tell her.

He does increase the security around the manor. He ends up putting a tracker on y/n because knowing where she is the only way to keep him from worrying.

This further solidifies that she needs to be in their protection to keep this mentally disturbed boy away. The whole thing is twisted but the line "a more private place" bothers him the most. He's not letting his daughter be alone with Jerome longer than she already has.

Dick

It's early in the morning and Dick wanted to check up on how y/n doing. As he walks up to the manor there's a large box sitting in front of the door. A letter sits on top of it with y/n's name on it. Rips up the envelope and begins reading the letter.

Once Dick was done reading, he looked down at the box. Noticing dried blood around the box. This makes him nauseous and immediately goes to Bruce to inform him. They sent it to authorities so they could identify the heads in the box.

He doesn’t tell y/n or the others about this. Everyone is already in a frenzy from the events prior, so it seemed best to keep this between him, Bruce, and Alfred.

"Made sure to get rid of their eyes," Dick isn't sure why that sticks with him. Maybe it's because he wonders if Jerome beheaded them or took out their eyes first. It doesn't matter though because he needs to keep his little sister safe.

Barbara

Doesn't even want to go near it, checks that there isn't a bomb in there waiting to explode. She takes one peek in the box and immediately looks away. Does not read the letter because what was in the box said what needed to be said. Informs the whole family and that sets the mood for the day.

She checks up on y/n after telling everyone. The poor girl is so overwhelmed by everything that she doesn't want to be around anyone. Spends most of the day with y/n, trying to cheer her up. Get sweets since that's y/n weakness and sugar releases dopamine. She has Alfred cook y/n's comfort food.

The day is meant to help release all of the stress. Barb wasn't sure if it was working until y/n said thank you before going to bed. Barb makes a promise to herself that she'll become better at shielding y/n from this type of depravity.

Jason

Can tell who this is from just by the envelope. y/n's name with little hearts around it. Shoves it into his pocket, he'll give it to y/n when he sees her. Opens the box to be hit with a familiar disgusting odor. Looking inside there are 3 heads. Recognizes one of them being a mod boss he has on his list for a while now.

Jason wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't this. He pulls out the envelope and tears it open to get some sort of context. Reading the letter left him unsettled and a little…satisfied? Grateful maybe? For taking care of those who harmed y/n even though it was entirely Jerome's fault that this happened in the first place.

Closes the box and informs the whole family of what he found. Everyone is put more on edge. y/n isn't allowed out of the manor for a few days. y/n is upset by the news and she’s more quiet the following days.

Jason almost wants to laugh at, "They just couldn't take a joke." Bets that these" jokes" were just thinly veiled threats and pointing a gun at them. He probably would have snickered if this didn't involve y/n.

Tim

All he wanted to do was check the mail. Now he's reading a sort of love letter written by a psycho and looking down at the heads that could not look back at him. Their empty eye sockets had- ugh, God there was so much blood.

Debates on whether he should tell y/n about this, but ends up telling her. There was no point in hiding it because she'll probably find out one way or another. Sees the guilt and horror flash across her face. Wants to comfort her as much as he can, but all she does is detract from him. Of course, when Barb opens her arms y/n jumps into them. What happened to them always being there for each?

Doesn't like, "our next date", one bit. He doesn't like the insinuation or the thought of it. He starts keeping his eyes peeled for Jerome and ears open if anyone has information on where he is or going. The sooner he's in Arkham the safer y/n is from him and going on that next date.

Damian

Not impressed. The delivery was lazy and the writing was so sloppy that he almost couldn't read it. The heads must have been cut with a butter knife with how unclean and jagged the cut is. Every unprofessional. Nonchalantly brings this up at the table during breakfast. Not even when everyone is finished, just right in the middle of it.

Never really had respect for a villain or any, but the whole "Didn't know who shot you, so I just killed everyone" was almost respectable. Damian having a speck of respect doesn't mean he likes Jerome. Still thinks he's stupid and annoying.

He'd give him a 3/10 for the delivery and would not order again.

Per-Spray Jeremiah isn't going to do anything, but Post-Spray Jeremiah is a different story. Will break one of y/n's arms or legs just so that she can't get away from him too easily. Though that's going to the extreme, he's more likely to guilt trip her. Getting into her head isn't hard and more effective.

"I thought you loved me. You were the one who always said you loved me. y/n, who has been here for you the most and always will? Not your best friend, Norah, she's leaving you behind and you know it. Not your family because they never cared about you in the first place. No one will love you like I do. You need me, y/n."

By the time the family saves y/n and brings her back to the cave for medical attention. She's consumed by guilt and almost believes she deserved any harm done to her. Will cry to Barb about this and only Barb.

Concerned by this revelation Barb will tell the whole family. Bruce is worried as it's clear that y/n's mental state is worsening. He knew that it would be after bad being kidnapped by Jeremiah, he just didn't think it would be this bad. Bruce and Tim have the same idea to get y/n another therapist if she's still not seeing one.

Jason and Damian are mad that y/n would think that she deserves any pain. Jason is kinda, sort of, not really more understanding about the whole thing than Damian. He gets how she could feel that she failed Jeremiah. If she has revealed that they had been dating and she can't or won’t give up on him, everyone is conflicted and concerned.

Dick has had the most romantic relationships and will try to convince y/n that Jeremiah is a lost cause now. Leading her to a spiral into a depressive episode. Oops!

If y/n is on the verge of death the family freaking the fuck out. Slowly recovers at the manor and convinces her that staying with them is the best thing for her. Depending on if her injury is life-threatening or not will determine how cooperative she is.

Getting Killed by a Villain

Doesn't matter who it is Jason is shooting them on the spot. Though with how emotional and choked up he's getting, he'll probably miss. Damian would react the same way if his whole body didn't stop upon seeing y/n's lifeless eyes. He doesn't want to step near her to see if it was true that he lost his sister.

Bruce, Dick, and Tim will force themselves to act professionally. They're still in their hero personas and killing was a strict no. If the whole family is there then whoever killed y/n is getting a beating of their life.

It could also depend on who's at the scene. Bruce and Dick hold on to the moral code that killing is wrong. This will prevent any further killings from happening.

Damian and Jason would probably end up killing the villain after seeing y/n's corpse. They know it's not going to bring back y/n, but what else can they do except making the villain to pay their debt?

Tim teeters between the lines. If Bruce or Dick is there then he's on their side of not killing. If it's just Damian and/or Jason then he won't stop them. He won't participate just stands back to let them do their thing.

Depending how and when she died will weigh heavily on their mind. Quick and painless before they got there? At least she didn't have to suffer too much, but still keeps them up at night.

Tortured for hours before succumbing to her injuries? They already feel guilty that they couldn't save her on time, but her last hours of living was being in pain will only intensify it. Out of the whole family, Jason would probably be the most distraught by this. He reopens old wounds and memories. y/n meeting a similar end is horrifying to him.

Get there on time, but it’s too late to save her from her injuries. Then slowly dies in their arms. If they're all there then y/n is dying in Bruce's arms.

"Please tell Jeremiah, I'm sorry and- and that I love him. Tell Norah that I hope s-she achieves her dreams of becoming a doctor. Are- are you still there? I can't see or feel you." She can slightly hear Bruce's deep voice while what seems to be the others are screaming. It's getting harder to hear and her body is starting to feel heavier.

This is the end and everyone knows it. Jason, Tim, and Dick don't want to accept it and are trying to patch her wound(s). Trying to get help there as soon as possible. Bruce and Damian are quiet trying to listen to her soft voice get quieter.

y/n starts slightly laughing, it's a nervous tick. "I always fantasize about having enough courage to end it all. Bu-but I- fuck. I'm such a fuck up." She starts crying and any words of comfort are either not heard or ignored. Starts coughing blood, but that doesn't deter Bruce in the slightest. Damian squeezes her hand though he doubts she can feel it.

"I don't even feel the pain anymore…At least I…At least I'm not dying alone." It isn't long before she stops breathing.

Alternatively, I thought of y/n saying, "I wished I was surrounded by loved ones." But she wouldn't stay that no matter how angry she is at the family. Might think it though.

In both cases of the Valeska twins, y/n would be caught in the crossfire. Jerome isn't going to kill y/n because she's his one and only. Jeremiah isn't going to kill y/n because why would he kill his wife? He's already planned out most of their whole lives and she already signed the mentally fabricated marriage certificate.

Jerome gets into a frenzy seeing y/n drop dead. No one is spared from his wrath. He can't bring himself to look at her body and will just leave. Inactive for a short time before getting back into the swing of things.

She is buried next to Jason. The family will catch Jerome hanging around her grave "talking to her" or something. Who knows what the hell he's doing. They'll have to chase him off or turn on the sprinklers if they want him to leave.

He didn't kill her himself, but he's still responsible for the events leading up to it. Meaning the family isn't going to pull back any punches.

Post-Spray Jeremiah has a similar reaction to y/n's death. Honestly, y/n could have died by just jumping in front of him to take a bullet. Doesn't matter how much y/n should hate him, she can't bring herself to. Ultimately it doesn't matter how she died, Jeremiah will blame Batman or the others for their inability to save y/n. Deflecting any responsibility.

This reinforces that he has to destroy Gotham and make it into his perfect image. y/n always talked about wanting to make the world a better place and that's exactly what he's doing.

If she dies in his arms he'll make a quick escape with her body. Having Echo hold back everyone to buy him time. Buries y/n in an undisclosed location and the tombstone will stay y/n Valeska instead of l/n or Wayne.

If he knew of the family's identity, he'd make subtle jabs at them. Mocking them for their mishandling of y/n. When or if he takes over Gotham he'll make sure that they all have front-row seats of the destruction before killing them off.

If he's feeling ruthless he might just have one of his followers get plastic surgery to look like y/n. Even change the pitch of their voice to get close enough to y/n's. Then send the follower after them and make various claims about how they lied about caring about her. How they let her die on purpose. That she'll never forgive them.

Traumatizing the whole family. Will make his follower's death gruesome just fuck with them and have them relive that day.

Bruce regrets not having kept y/n closer. He has a lot of 'should haves’ and 'if only’ in his head. He knows that's not going to do anything, but it'll take a while to accept her death. Always visits her grave every week.

Dick wishes that he'd been a better brother to y/n. He'll often wonder if she's looking down at them from above. Any mention of her will upset him for a while. Tim feels the same as Dick but often finds himself reminiscing about those happy moments. When they're smiling and laughing, once the memory is over he's left feeling melancholy.

Barbara is heartbroken by this. y/n always talked about how she wanted a normal domestic lifestyle. How much she loves Jeremiah and believes that he's the one. Now she's in the dirt and never experienced that simple quiet life she wanted. Carries a photo of y/n and her smiling on her all the time. Believes that y/n is in a better place where she can live out her dreams. One day Barb will see her again and give her a bone-crushing hug.

Jason and Damian think of throwing her body into Lazarus Pit if they have access to her body. Jason seriously thinks of it for only a minute before throwing it out. The pit messed him up and he can't handle bringing y/n back only for her mental turmoil to worsen. Damian doesn't think about that. He wants to apologize for all he's said and done. He wants his sister back, but the family is quick to turn down the idea. Explaining how it could only lead to more pain.

Damian would most likely listen to the family since they're technically right. Although there is a small chance that he wouldn't listen and do it anyway. Right out of the pit, y/n's thinking of her only love. Tries to run back to Jeremiah, but Damian is not having any of that. 

When he returns to the manor with y/n tied up the whole family will have a verbal MMA fight. After that, they lock y/n in a nicely furnished room with hidden security cameras. y/n is like a zombie. Only has one thing, rather one person on her mind. She's a shell of who she once was.

At least they have a second chance, right?

y/n can not go ten minutes without talking or asking about Jeremiah. Will speak with herself if there isn't anyone else with her.

I think this turned out horrible, but hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to ask anything else as my inbox in always open. Also sorry for misspells or grammar mistakes, kinda rushed this.

[susansontag]

studio ghibli ranking list let’s go

(will include nausicaä and the red turtle)

the these-are-actually-bad section:

24. earwig and the witch

actually the only one I haven’t watched so it’s cheeky to put it here. but I won’t be watching it and no one will blame me.

23. ocean waves

who sincerely cares about these teenagers they’re so annoying. if the boys had been gay it would have honestly been homophobic.

22. pom poko

this film is about shape-shifting raccoon dogs waging a war on humans and there’s copious jokes about their testicles. so on paper a perfect film. execution wise it’s so long and so boring and you care about none of them.

the cure-for-insomnia section:

21. tales from earthsea

hayao miyazaki was right to walk out of this one even though he probably is a terrible father for having done so. some of the animation was really nice but these protagonists made me yearn for the ocean waves cast because at least they have semi-personalities.

20. castle in the sky

proof miyazaki was judging his son too hard for earthsea because this is basically his version of the same thing: a nice idea with good animation and the most boring boy/girl protagonists imaginable. has got that whimsy he does so nicely however.

the passable-films section:

19. the cat returns

but should he have? was that really necessary? has a scene of cats walking in a procession on their hind legs though so that’s a plus.

18. arrietty

visually gorgeous but otherwise a very run-of-the-mill adaptation of the borrowers, which in something that should feel wondrous is less than ideal.

17. my neighbors the yamadas

some harmless and inventive fun that you can put on in the background whilst eating lunch or doing some light yoga stretches.

the don’t-harm-me-I’m-right section:

16. howl’s moving castle

yes I do in fact understand the intricacies of the plot and I still don’t care. this is one of ghibli’s messiest films for sure, it can’t decide what it wants to be or focus on and the plot just seems to happen and then not happen for no good reason. I also think howl’s a whiny bastard and hate that sophie has to mother him and endure his contemptible man tantrums. a shame because she’s actually cool.

15. grave of the fireflies

it was sweet but I’ve watched more moving animated films set in war-time, even. I don’t have much desire to watch it again honestly but maybe I will at some point.

the this-is-getting-there section:

14. the red turtle

I liked it! an acquired taste but I really felt the harshness of the elements and the cruelty and the love. it's also very beautiful to look at, one of the most visually arresting ghibli productions.

13. only yesterday

a tale of two films with this one. the parts where she's a young girl are much more interesting, but if this had stuck the landing and it'd been more even overall, could have potentially been a favourite. alas.

12. the wind rises

a genuinely weird one in ghibli's lineup, in which miyazaki meshes two different stories together (one of inventive 'genius' and a doomed love story, respectively) in a likely attempt to try and grapple with his having chosen his career over all else, including family (noteworthy is that his wife was not able to retain her career as an animator). as a piece of art it's less whimsical and more mature than many of these films, but I struggle to not let my distaste for what it potentially represents get in the way of my appreciation for it as a film, but it's so blatantly personal that it's impossible.

the that-was-just-a-good-fun-time section:

11. nausicaä of the valley of the wind

aesthetically one of the coolest films on this list but I don't remember the story as well. great protagonist too. must have been great to experience when it first came out in the '80s.

10. porco rosso

I love this film about a tomboy mechanic and some pilot guy who went off to war and was so changed he is now a pig. watching it feels like if the mediterranean was so small it fit into your back pocket and was also populated by all your friends all your enemies and your ex-lover also.

9. from up on poppy hill

I found this one boring the first time I watched it but it really grew on me with subsequent rewatches. I really like her predominantly female household and the community they share in the backdrop of the rest of the drama is sweet. the bit of drama midway through is still batshit though but in a loveable, disney-would-never way.

the near-perfect section:

8. the tale of the princess kaguya

probably takahata's magnum opus with the studio, if slightly overlong. folktales are tricky because they tend to feel moralistic and the characters one-note if you're not willing to build on them but kaguya herself feels very spirited and alive. the prettiest on the list too I'd say.

7. my neighbor totoro

cozy late summer comfort film. perhaps even more special now because I was able to see the london production. cute!

6. when marnie was there

surprised this one has ranked so high for me but that's the power of tomboy lesbians heck yeah etc. also the fantastical element of this one is so up my alley and touches upon a particular kind of childhood nostalgia I have of being in old houses and imbuing them with magical qualities. the image of anna facing the house across the marshland is burned into my retina.

the I'd-die-for-her section:

5. princess mononoke

aesthetically too cool for school and has one of the best ghibli villains and female characters (lady eboshi). they really said all the spirits of the forest are going to die in this one but well it was a nice thought.

4. ponyo

my comfort movie of all-time! heartwarming! with another great female ghibli character in lisa, sosuke's mum who is legally allowed to drive like that apparently. also one I actually watched for the first time in my childhood when I was around 7 or so at an after school club. the subtitles taught me the useful and now underused gem of a phrase "bog off".

3. kiki's delivery service

asks the important questions such as: what if you were a young witch from a dying tradition who moves to a gorgeous town in sweden? what if your remarkable gifts were no longer appreciated due to rapid advancements in aviation technology? what if you could live in a bakery?

2. spirited away

when you're just a timid child who is scared of admittedly a lot and your parents manage to mess everything up spectacularly so now you're forced to work at the age of twelve for people who steal your identity. still one of the best honestly they may never top this as the peak of their artistic achievement.

1. whisper of the heart

have you ever been a struggling artist? have you ever been in love? have you ever been obsessed with john denver's take me home, country roads? in all seriousness love a story of two artistically inclined people inspiring each other and this has a unique feel compared to other ghibli films forever favourite probably. it feels like basically no one has watched it and that's a shame. rest in peace yoshifumi kondō.

[eyesteeth]

y'know personally i think it'd be really thematically fun if faulkner jumps in the aquifer in the series finale and carpenter pulls him out.

i've said before that they very much are an earth/water duo and carpenter doing well as someone close to the maiden (death -> graves & cairns -> earth) while faulkner's absolutely fucking struggling with the river faith (river -> water) keeps strengthening that impression. and also as i've said before faulkner's inability to swim ties in well with this too - he, within the framework of this overarching "faith-as-water" metaphor, physically cannot survive in these conditions.

meanwhile, carpenter can swim, and that ties in well with her position in the faith. she's well-known enough to be on mercer's list even when she's been presumed dead for months, and was present for many notable events, enough that faulkner directly asks her about them in s1. she doesn't like her position there, she'd much rather be out of the water, but she can swim if she has to, and because she's had to for so long, she's gotten very good at it (or, because she's spent so long as a member of the faith, she knows how to blend in and not get found out).

now, going all the way back to the "born to water, born to land" speech in the first episode, i'd wager carpenter is one of those amphibious people who are a mix of both, while faulkner is land all the way. carpenter could survive up to a point, but her strength would give out eventually, as shown in season two with her leaving the church. meanwhile, faulkner never had a chance - it was never going to end in success for him.

and so, within this metaphor, carpenter's the only one who can get him out of the water. no one inside the church is going to save him - they're essentially water-born creatures that don't understand why he's struggling, if they even notice at all. meanwhile, carpenter can identify this struggle because she's had her own crisis of faith, and she's equipped to swim him out of there and onto dry land.

and i fully believe this. quite honestly, if faulkner doesn't end up crossing paths with his sister, he is almost definitely going to finally successfully kill himself, and go down in the verses as the role he played and not the person he actually was.

and hey, y'know. big body of water right there in the aquifer. good of a place to die as any. quite convenient, really. surely no one plot relevant has crash-landed there recently.

(or maybe not the aquifer specifically, pacing is as pacing will be, after all - any body of water in the wastes would do for this.)

it would just put a fun bow on everything i think. you're out of the water now, you don't have to go back in there, no one's going to make you go back in. let's be on land. quite frankly, it's better for all of us if you stay on land. i'm going to be fucking pissed if you go back in the water honestly.

and hey, maybe she kills him, maybe she doesn't. her rules don't count if it's for him, after all. but at least he'd get to die on land. far easier to bury him that way, should it come to that.

but if he's allowed to live out of the water - out of the faith - he can finally stop being a prophet or high katabasian and just go back to being a brother.

[merakiui]

hi mera! are u still doing fwb dialogues? if so, can i have jamil with "this is bad, this is very bad" ?

love ur writing, have a good day (👉ﾟヮﾟ)👉

Hi hiii!!! Thank you for requesting. <3

(fwb dialogues)

This is bad, you and Jamil realize in perfect unison. This is very bad.

No one's at fault here. At least, that's what you assume. But here you are, clad only in one of Jamil's hoodies and your underwear. To make matters worse, you've opened his bedroom door to greet who is, quite possibly, the one person who could dissolve this secret arrangement in the span of mere minutes. A record, really. Jamil stifles his groan, sitting up in bed with the covers still thrown over his legs. If he gets up now, he risks revealing the real reason you stayed the night because he, too, is sporting his boxers and nothing else.

Is he fated to be unlucky whenever Kalim is concerned? Just what's up with that?

"Oh! I didn't know you were here, (Name)!" His smile bright and unwavering, Kalim peers past you at Jamil. "Why didn't you tell me (Name) was here, Jamil? We could've thrown a party or done something fun last night!"

That's exactly why I didn't, he thinks bitterly. It's not even afternoon, but he's already irritated. Stress doesn't go away with sleep. Jamil would know; he's tried that dozens of times and it's yet to work.

You exchange a wary, furtive glance with Jamil. He hopes to convey don't say a word. I'll handle this in his stern stare, but you don't quite catch it.

"Don't worry about it, Kalim! There'll always be another time for that. I was just—"

"Leaving," Jamil interjects. "(Name) was just getting ready to leave."

"In your hoodie?"

Of course. There's that. Your clothes are still scattered on the floor. Last night feels like a blur even though it's perfectly vivid in his mind's eye. And to think he was planning to wake early and prepare breakfast. Out of habitual schedule. Definitely no other reason.

Jamil watches what's possibly the worst attempt at improv he's ever seen. It's so bad he visibly winces.

You grab at the hoodie and feign surprise. "W-Wow! Yeah, that's so crazy. I wonder how that got on me. Must've been magic..."

Kalim looks from you to Jamil and then back, silently assessing something. And then he gasps, his eyes wide. Jamil's ready to dig a grave and lie down in it. His first slice of relief in a while and it's only lasted one week. That's a record.

But then Kalim says, "Ooh, you had a sleepover! That's so fun!"

"A... A sleepover..." Jamil hurries to hide his shock before you can say anything that'll further jeopardize the situation. "Right. Yeah, that was it. Just a sleepover."

"It was late. We didn't wanna bother you," you add.

"Aw. I wouldn’t have minded. But next time you should definitely let me know! We can have one big sleepover together. You, me, Jamil—maybe even the entire dorm!" He laughs, excited by the prospect of it. "Oh, and we'll definitely need to have food and drinks! Some games, too. Maybe I'll even invite Lilia and Cater. And Riddle and Silver as well! Wait, what about everyone in my class? They'll wanna come, too!"

Before Jamil can stop his tangent, Kalim sprints off. Face-palming, he flops back onto his bed, only to bolt upright once Kalim returns seconds later.

"Sorry, Jamil and (Name), I wish I could stay and talk more. But I gotta go tell the rest of the dorm that we'll be holding our first-ever dorm slumber party this weekend! Thanks for the idea!"

And then he's off for good.

You turn slowly, bracing for the scowl. As expected, it's there, right at home on Jamil's face. You raise your hands in mock surrender.

"Okay, in my defense, how was I supposed to know it'd be him?"

"Who else would it be? The Sorcerer of the Sands?" Jamil sighs, scrubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. "You didn't even have to answer it."

"He would've come in anyway." Jamil can't refute that. "Do you think he knows about us?"

"Not anymore. He's so focused on throwing a dorm slumber party after someone put the idea in his head."

"What? No way! It's not my fault he came to that conclusion! Better that than the truth, right?"

Again, you make a valid point.

"It's still more work I'd like to avoid."

You fix your lips into a sympathetic frown. Jamil's not sure why you even bother. There's no point to these emotions when your relationship is simply physical.

"Can I make it up to you?"

He raises a brow, suspicious. "Getting the idea out of Kalim's head would be a start."

"Oh, I was gonna suggest another type of head, but that also works."

Jamil gazes at the time. It's risky but oh-so-rewarding. His lips lift in a smug smile. With a flick of his magic pen, the door shuts and locks.

"We can start with that."

[thermitetermite]

I return from the grave for one night only to post a Helluva Boss AU. Enjoy my delulu AU about a Christmas tree capitalist clown spider demon and his adopted cyborg clown son.

Also there is swearing and mentions of Fizzaroli's accident.

Mammon being a half decent step-dad AU

Mammon hears about Fizz much earlier though the grapevine (Paimon complaining to all royal demons about how his son got rid of all their shit bc of some clown kid)

Interested, he attends a show in disguise.

He finds that Fizz is good. Like, really good! Dollar signs start popping up in his head. Also the little bugger kind of reminds him of himself.

Immediately asks to buy Fizz from Cash Buckzo. He refuses at first because Fizz is his star but with strong negotiating tactics (money and threats) he caves.

Fizz is nervous about leaving his only home behind but is excited to be "adopted" by Mammon! His hero!

It's giving bought by One Direction vibes

At first Mammon was planning to just train him to be a child actor/clown, give him a TV show and pawn him off to someone to actually raise full-time. He wanted to be the convenient step-dad, not a full time parent!

That changed after the first couple nights with Fizz living in his mansion.

It started with Fizz handing him a red balloon horse.

"Alright, not bad kid, but can ya make a balloon unicorn?"

Fizz ran off to attempt to make it. That'll keep him busy for a few hours, guess that meant he could make some calls and... He was back already with the completed unicorn.

"Give me another!"

"Uh, alright ya little bugger, why dontcha make a Quevie?"

This back and forth happened for the next few hours, with Mammon judging the balloon animal, giving a few pointers when he messed up, and Fizz making the next animal he asked for.

Damn, this parenting shit is easy.

It eventually got so late that Fizz fell asleep on the couch trying to complete a kangaroo.

Sighing, Mammon picked Fizz up and carried him to the bedroom he hired someone to decorate. He tucked him into bed and finally after an entire day was able to make a call.

However, the first call he made wasn't to the networking company or his broadcasting station. Instead, it was to Lucifer, his self proclaimed best friend and a successful parent.

"What is it Mammon? Do you have any idea how late it is?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just had a quick question for ya. What do children eat? Cereal? Oats? Ice cream?"

Needless to say, Lucifer had a long talk with Mammon about how to raise a kid, stating it'd be hard work.

After hanging up and going to bed, Mammon had only one thought on his mind. To raise this kid better than any of the other Sins could. His boy would be talk of the town and the best clown in all of Hell.

That first week of parenting went about as well as you'd expect.

Mammon had the approach of being "The fun step-dad" which included eating candy for every meal, teaching him swear words and showing him how to do all the tricks he thought a capable child could do.

(These tricks may or may not have included tax evasion and driving)

Speaking of, Mammon insisted on bringing Fizzaroli everywhere. Including work.

"Mammon, sir, I'm sorry for filing the paperwork for the expansion of LooLoo Land wrong- is that a child?"

"Yeah, this is my boy. Look attem. Ain't he talented!" Cue Fizz hanging off one of his arms. "Whatdya think Fizzie? Should we keep or fire him?"

"Fire!"

"You heard the boy! Off withya, ya bloody cunt!"

"Bloody cunt!"

Mammon would belly laugh whenever Fizzaroli would copy his swearing or accent. When is children swearing NOT funny?

Mammon's definitely the type to have tons of pictures in his wallet of his kid. Fizzaroli does get a TV show, lots of interviews and the spotlight often but whenever someone asks Mammon about him he immediately opens the photo wallet.

(He would kill anyone who even touched it)

Of course he still has some of the Mammon-ness we know, bribing and pushing Fizz to do shows, acts, commercials and more, causing Fizz to start getting overwhelmed.

Then one day Fizz's accident happened (it's a canon event)

Mammon practically broke down Belphagor's door when he got the news Fizz was hurt, demanding his boy get the best treatment in Hell.

Mammon didn't sleep for the entire time Fizz was in that hospital bed, sitting beside him for days at a time just thinking about how he nearly lost him. He couldn't lose him.

When Fizz woke up/was stable, Mammon was there during his emotional moments. When Fizz asked if Mammon would replace him he scoffed.

"Fizzie, why would I replace you? You're in recovery right now. A break. Yer fans are dying to see that Fizzie face when you get outta here. You're more popular and more in demand than ever. You do the recoverin and I'll show you the huge profit we return."

Mammon to English translation: It's stupid to think I'll leave. You'll be able to return to the stage, I'll make sure of it. You'll get better and I'll be here with you.

Fizz eventually recovered but needed limbs so Mammon sent a request (demand) to the best mechanic in Hell, Asmodeus. If anyone could make limbs for his boy it'd be that rooster fuck.

Of course just because Mammon had faith in him didn't mean he wasn't picky in what he delivered.

"Can ya loop your arm like a bendy straw?"

"Uh, no."

"Then it's not good enough for you!"

Mammon practically sent Asmodeus a list of limb adjustments and upgrades that needed to be done every other week. All other times he had Fizzie trying all these different therapies, practicing with his limbs, and occasionally try doing a trick. (Not clown car driving after last time). Eventually he was mostly satisfied with the work and to celebrate "Ozzie not *HONK*-ing up" he started teaching Fizz how to play the guitar.

Cue a bit of a time skip of say 7 years.

Fizz has his hands in nearly every facet of entertainment. News, sports, cooking competitions (which he surprisingly sucked at), and of course comedy. Fizz didn't want to say it but doing so much had him tired, stressed, and anxious. He was doing this for Mammon, the person who gave him everything. He couldn't just let him down. He'd seen what happened to those that failed him. All those people who got fired for mistakes they made. He couldn't fail.

At the same time Mammon wants to get into the robot doll industry. Not sex dolls because he can't stand the thought of his (boy) brand being sold like that. Instead personal assistance robots that have all the features. It can make coffee, teach you yoga, be a parent, etc. but of course he needs the mechanical help of Asmodeus again.

Once again Fizz is taking trips to Lust to oversee the production of the robots. After 2 years of this the robots are completed (a huge financial success) and Fizz asks Mammon if he can stay with Ozzie.

Mammon is surprised but ok with it as long as he visits and does a show every now and again. Especially guest judging the Clown Pageant.

He doesn't realize Fizz and Oz have a thing until the Clown Pageant (his final one in canon)

Once it comes out, oh boy, Mammon goes full demon mode. Shit gets ugly. Mammon goes on his normal rant (minus the "raised you like the son I didn't want" part) and Fizz, unwaivering because he's seen this a million times, retorts back with all the anxiety Mammon caused. The acting and shows. How it weighed on him. How he was so scared of fucking something up and getting kicked out.

"I'd never kick you out! You're the crown jewel of my empire! My runt turned pick of the litta! I made you in my image! If I pushed you hard it was because you could be better! I raised you! You've got my training in your back pocket so I knew you could be a better clown than I ever was! All of this was for you!"

Eventually Mammon breaks down and asks why Asmodeus. He's worried about their relationship considering he's known Asmodeus since the beginning of hell.

"Why do you need to date him when you have my empire! If you need money, we have it! If you need companionship, we can buy it! If you need power we have that too! We built this empire! Your talent brought in a fortune and you've seen how to run the business! If you need your own power or your own space you can have it!"

"I'm not with him for any of those things! I know I have everything else here! But I love him Mammon! He takes care of me. He's kind, sweet, handsome, and supports me even on my roughest days. I love him."

"...he makes you feel safe?"

"Yes."

"He treats you good?"

"He treats me amazingly."

"You love him?"

"With all my heart."

"...ok."

"Ok?"

"I... Respect your decision. I'm going to make it about me but please bear with me. I know I haven't been the best at raising you. I can be overbearing. And clingy. And I pushed you to do a lot of things that were hard or uncomfortable or er... greedy. I haven't been the best influence on your life but I did my best and if I had to I'd do it all over again."

"Mam..."

"Up up up, let me finish ya little shit. You know I have a hard time letting go of things. And I was kidding myself when I thought I'd have ya forever. I forgot how fast ya implings grow up. I thought I could keep ya safe and smilin but I couldn't even do that right. The second most painful thing I experienced in my life was gettin kicked from heaven. The most was seein you in that hospital bed. I've been smotherin ya since. Yer my boy and I wanted better for ya. Thought I could protect ya if I pushed harder. Taught ya more. Did more shit with ya. But in the end you were always gonna have ta leave ta find a life of yer own.

Mammon paused, taking a familiar but heavily deflated remnant of a red horse balloon from under his hat

"I'm at least glad ya took somethin after me. Yer greedy like me and ya landed the best bachelor Hell has ta offer. I... I don't want to let ya go but... Ya need to do this. Live yer life kid, and live it better than me."

The fucking stadium was in tears (me too tbh)

Before Fizz could say anything (he was choking on his words) Mammon extended a card with his sigil on it.

"Remember I'm always here. Please... Call me if ya need me."

Fizz wrapped his robotic limbs around Mammon, bringing him in for a tight hug.

"I love you, Dad."

Mammon cried on that stage, hugging the son he always wanted.

[jakes3resin]

Blondes Have More Fun

Anyways, this is probably the closest I'll ever get to writing Crack fic for this fandom, so enjoy Blond!Bucky and his ability to drive Buck and the entirety of the 100th wild with his smile and hair! Also personally I think Callum looks like a 24 year old when blond, so imagine handsome charming, nearly thirty Bucky Egan running around looking like a baby faced newbie then you'll be half a bowled over as the 100th.

It is a truth universally acknowledged at Thorpe Abbotts that Major John "Bucky" Egan can be talked into anything. Anything. So long as you were convincing and Buck wasn't around to drag him away from the dumber ideas, Bucky was down to play ball.

Curt had once talked him into using a British accent for a whole week, even in meetings with the CO. Bucky hadn't even blinked before adopting an uncannily perfect London accent. It was so convincing that some of the newer replacements had asked if the man was British.

Another time, he got into a howl off with Meatball after Hambone said he didn't know which one was worse. The pair were so loud that no one could actually tell who won. Most were too busy covering their ears. The few that weren't couldn't decide. It was officially settled as a draw, but Benny still refuses to accept that Bucky would ever beat his precious boy Meatball in anything.

There were countless tales of Bucky getting into trouble simply because someone had said within his earshot the six words needed to wreck Jack Kidd's night.

"You know what would be fun?"

The magic words. That or a dare would send Bucky careening into trouble with half the 100th behind him to watch the fireworks. Honestly, most of the time, Bucky was already getting up to his own antics, so convincing him to do something else wasn't exactly hard.

It was one such utterance of the phrase that sparked a wildfire within the 100th Bomber Group that threatened to tear them asunder and send one Major Gale "Buck" Cleven to an early grave. Or prison.

The night was like any other Friday night. Bucky had gone out with Curt and Bubbles. Buck had chosen to stay in for the night reading, and Harry had done much the same. Kidd, the minder of the entire 100th, had gone to the officer's club while the trio had gone to a local pub in the town just off base. So the usual minders of this trio of mad men were missing, and as the saying goes, while the cats are away, the mice will play.

It started as Bubbles's idea.

At least that's what they think it started as. A few too many drinks had left the evening a blur for Curt and Bubbles and a blank for Bucky. That last fact will be important later.

"You know what would be fun?" Bubbles said, or perhaps it was Curt. Or maybe it was Bucky. But it was probably Bubbles. The man was quite the troublemaker, he just hid it better behind soft smiles and manners.

"What?" Bucky leaned against the bar to grin at Bubbles. Well perhaps a more accurate word would be slumped, he'd spent half the night playing some weird darts game that required shots for every bull's eye Tommy made. It was safe to say that the man was on the downhill slide to wasted. Curt kept an ear on the pair as he flirted with a pretty blonde next to them at the bar.

"Being blonde." Bubbles sighed. "All the movies make it seem fun, don't they? And Major Cleven sure is pretty with his blond hair. I bet it'd look really pretty as well on your curls Bucky."

"Sorry, sweetheart, one moment," Curt turned his head to stare at Bubbles. "You think Buck's pretty?"

"And you don't?"

"I do!"

"We know you do, Bucky," Curt sighed and leaned further onto the bar to make eye contact with Bubbles. "I mean, sure, objectively, you could say he is, but I thought you were wrapped up with Croz and Jean?"

"I am, but I still got eyes don't I? 'Sides ain't there something fun about being blonde?" Bubbles leaned against his cupped hand on the bar. "Can't a mind wonder?"

"Yeah Curt," Bucky rose in defense of his friend slinging an arm around Bubble's neck. The move was so uncoordinated that the pair were nearly sent to the floor. "Why can't Bubbles wonder? I wanna go blond, too!"

Curt rolled his eyes at them, but an idea was taking root in his head. An amazing idea.

"Well," Curt grinned. "Why wonder when you can do?"

"You boys aren't thinking about bleaching your friend's hair on your own are you?" A voice cut through the trio's conversation. It seemed the blonde woman from before had been listening in and was rightly amused by the drunk airmen's conversation.

"Cause you'll fry his whole head off in the state you're in, and the world would mourn those curls." She lifted a hand to tug gently on one of Bucky's loose wavy curls. He smiled at her, loose and happy. Usually, only Buck plays with his hair, but Bucky doesn't mind when anyone else does. Buck does though, which Bucky still hasn't figured out.

"Well, how do you suppose we save his curls then," Curt paused searching for the woman's name, "Nora."

"Good job, I half thought you were too drunk to remember my name handsome." Curt smiled, and Nora kept talking

"There's a drugstore down the way. Stocks up on anything a girl, or flyboy in need, could ever need. I'll help you boys out." Nora laughed. "You'll look mighty pretty dyeing those curls blond Major. I wanna see 'em first."

With Nora leading the way, the trio tripped over themselves into chaos. Bucky laughed as Bubbles rambled on about how pretty he'll look as a blond. Curt butting in to say that he'll need to either shave his mustache or bleach it too.

On base, Buck felt a shiver run down his spine as he laid down to sleep. Writing it off as just a chill from the cold British air, the man fell asleep.

Bucky groaned as he woke up. Voices drifted around him. His head felt like it'd be screwed off and used as a bowling ball all night, and as desperately as he wanted to go back to sleep, he knew that now that the sun was up, he was up.

"Curt, if that's you snoring on my legs, I'm gonna kick you off." Bucky pulled his pillow further over his head, trying to block out said snores.

"Fuck off," Came the grumbled reply. An elbow dug into the back of his knee.

"Get off," John whined. Curt huffed shifting just enough to let Bucky free his legs. "Why didn't you go to your own bed?"

"Yours is comfier." Bubbles murmured next to the pair, and Bucky really was starting to wonder what the hell they all drank the night before.

"It's the same cot as everybody else." Bucky grumbled, finally sitting up. Bubbles and Curt immediately swooped onto the space he abandoned. "Rude. You just want me for my bed."

"But it's such a lovely bed, sweetheart," Curt buried his face in Bucky's pillow, not even glancing at the man he was stealing from. Bubbles seemed to have immediately fallen back to sleep.

"I'm getting breakfast," Bucky yawned, stretching his arms above his head. "Meet me there when you idiots wake up. I'll sneak you in."

"Sir, yes, sir." Curt's hand flopped into a mock salute that had Bucky rolling his eyes.

First things first, breakfast. Or at least coffee for his hangover.

Getting dressed as quickly as he could, Bucky didn't even waste time checking how he looked in a mirror. He went to smooth down his mustache only to curse when he found it missing. Thinking Curt must have shaved it off as a joke, Bucky groaned but moved on. He didn't even touch his hair after that, just walked right out of his barracks. The only thing that mattered to him was coffee and how he'd get his hands on a gallon of it. It wouldn't be the first time he ran around base with his hair going every which way. No one would bat an eye.

Had he known what kind of chaos he was about to wreck upon the poor, unsuspecting airmen of Thorpes Abbotts, Bucky would have at least styled it a bit. You know, just to ensure maximum chaos.

The bike ride to the mess wasn't awful. The fresh air helped at least. With his sunglasses on, his head felt less like it was going to split open and more human. What was weird was how everyone stopped in their tracks to watch him ride past.

"Is that-?"

"No way!"

"Someone get Kidd!"

"Holy shit!"

"Major Cleven is going to lose his mind!"

"Do you think he has a twin?"

"Hell if I know, I can't believe Major Cleven let him out of the barracks like that."

"Lord help us if there's another Egan running around."

Bucky ignored them. He was way too hungover to parse through what nonsense the boys were going on about, and he simply pedaled faster to get to the officer's mess. He just wanted his coffee.

"Major Egan, sir!"

Bucky glances up from securing his bike and meets the eye of one of the newer boys. Kid barely looks old enough to have enlisted.

"Uh," Bucky searches his memory for this kid's name. Bucky tried to know some of the newbies names, but it was harder than he'd ever admit. "Monroe, right?

"Yes, sir!" The kid squeaked, a bright tomato blush spreading across his cheeks. Bucky winced, the sound drilling right into his brain. "I wanted to say you look nice today, sir. Your, your hair is real nice!"

"Thanks, Monroe," Bucky smiled, thrown by how Monroe managed to grow even redder. He reaches out to clasp the kid on the shoulder. "You alright there? You look like you're gonna faint. Had any breakfast yet?"

"I-I'm fine, sir, thank you!" Monroe was stock still under Bucky's hand, but he wrote it off as nerves. Some of the boys got nervous around the older pilots, especially if they were officers. "I'll be going now! Have a good day, sir!"

In a flash, the blushing replacement ducked under Bucky's arm and ran as fast as he could down the lane. Bucky watched him go, head tilted not sure what the hell just happened to him. He heard a few shrieks behind him but wrote it off as typical background noise. There was always something going on.

"Weird kid." Bucky turned to walk into the officer's mess. He'd have to tell Buck about it when he saw him next. Maybe he'd understand what just happened.

Speaking of, Buck had better have saved him a seat for breakfast. Bucky was not going to battle the morning rush as well as his hangover just to find out he had nowhere to sit.

On the way inside, Bucky ran into Veal. As in, he literally ran into the man because he'd stopped dead in his tracks staring at him. Bucky hadn't even seen the other before he practically bowled him over.

"Veal, what the hell?" Bucky groaned.

"You," Veal stared at him wide-eyed. If Bucky were less hungover, he'd get quite a kick out of this. "You, you?"

"Shaved, I know," Bucky gestured to his face. He turned to keep walking into the officer's mess. "Yeah, Curt had some fun last night."

"Wait, no! Bucky-!" Veal went to grab him, but Bucky just swerved out of the way. Nothing was getting in his way in his quest for coffee. "Bucky! Stop! Don't go in there!"

"Yeah, yeah, Veal," Bucky waved a hand behind him. "I get you're shocked, but come on, man. It's not the first time any of you've seen me without it!"

Bucky rushed in, not paying anymore attention to Veal. He walked with one purpose. Coffee. He didn't care if the other officers stopped and stared at him slackjawed as he walked past. He was a man on a mission.

"Hey, coffee, please? Whole pot if you could," Bucky smiled at the attendant, who blushed scarlet before running off. Thrown but not deterred, Bucky just shrugged and turned to find Buck. Maybe he'd be able to steal Buck's coffee.

He found Buck seated near one of the windows with his back facing Bucky. Jack was at his table, but otherwise, it was empty. Bucky started over.

Jack saw him first and choked on his grapefruit juice.

"Oh shit," Jack choked out. Buck leaned over to check on him.

"Alright, Jack?" Bucky grabbed the seat next to Buck. Jack just stared at him, eyes wide. Bucky tilts his head confused. "Buck, what's with him?"

Buck turns and freezes. Bucky stares at him. Buck stares back.

"Buck?" Bucky reaches out to shake him.

"You," Buck starts but doesn't finish. His wide blues eyes stare at Bucky's face.

"Coffee, sir!"

The attendant from before arrives with Bucky's requested pot of coffee and a cup.

"Thanks!" Bucky smiles up at the other. The attendant trips backward. Buck turns and glares at the other man. He flees.

"Buck, what the hell?" Bucky nudges Buck. "Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?"

Buck turns to stare at Bucky again, a clench to his jaw that Bucky's knows means he's holding something back. Jack seems to have started breathing normally again.

"Your hair!" Jack says. Bucky reaches up to touch his hair. Sure, he didn't style it this morning, but was it so bad? Monroe said it looked good!

Speaking of, why was everyone focusing on his hair today?

"What about it?" Bucky's genuinely curious now. Buck's still staring at him, eyes bright, and now Jack seems to be wishing for death.

"Its-!"

"Pretty."

Bucky turns to Buck. It's his turn to stare wide-eyed at the other. A blush rises up to his cheeks. Buck's not one to mince his words, and a compliment from him feels akin to a hundred.

The entire mess hall goes quiet as Buck stares at him. Bucky smiles at him. Buck goes rigid, and Jack chokes on his juice next to them. Again.

"Bucky!" Curt slammed his hand against the window, happy as a clam and utterly sober. Bucky hates that Irish constitution of his. "Let us in!"

Bucky stands up to hoist open the window. Jack's still too busy choking on his juice to stop him, and Buck seems to have frozen solid. Bubbles and Curt fall through seconds later. The pair immediately start talking over each other happily, and Bucky is starting to wonder if he was the only one who woke up with a hangover.

"God, you should hear the scuttlebutt going round!" Curt cackles as he launches himself into the seat across from Bucky. Bubbles nods next to him, already munching on a piece of toast Bucky thinks used to be Jack's.

"Anything fun?" Bucky dumps creamer into his coffee. He moans as he takes a sip of it. God, coffee really was the best hangover cure. Bucky doesn't notice how quiet the mess hall got until Bubbles finally answers his question a minute later. Odd.

"Just how pretty your hair looks now Major," Bubbles smiled at him. Bucky reached for his hair again.

"Is it really so different?" He asks. Buck makes a noise next to him like a dying chicken, and Curt cackles.

"Blond really is your color, Bucky! You look like one of those pin up posters running around like that!" Curt reaches across the table to tug on one of his curls, drawing it down into his eyesite. Buck bangs his knee against the table with a swear. Bucky would fuss over him, but he's reevaluating his whole morning with this new information.

"Oh!" Bucky gasps. Now he feels silly. "That's why Monroe complimented me outside?"

"Pardon?" Buck's voice comes out strangled. Bucky swings his gaze back to him. Buck's blue eyes are nearly electric, and Bucky gulps.

"Monroe? Cute kid? Brunette replacement with a billion freckles that disappear when he blushes?" Bucky rambles. Curt cackles again as Jack buries his face into his hands. Bubbles grabs a slice of Buck's toast this time.

"And he stopped you?" Buck's jaw was doing the thing Bucky knows only happens when he's pissed. But why would he be mad? Bucky tilts his head to stare at Buck, curls flopping down into his eyes now that Curt's untucked them from behind his ears.

Buck clenches his fist.

"Yeah, he and Veal both stopped me before I walked in." Bucky reaches over to grab Buck's hand. "You okay?"

"I'm fine John," Buck reaches up to tuck his loose curls back behind his ear. His hand lingers, and Bucky fights the urge to press his cheek into Buck's hand. "You look real pretty."

"Yeah?" Bucky sits up straighter, leaning into Buck's space. "How pretty?"

"Like a daydream." Buck whispers, voice low. His blue eyes won't stop staring, and Bucky can tell his blush is spreading by the volume of Curt's laugh.

Oh, Bucky could just kiss the other.

"Yeah, Nora did a nice job on your hair!" Bubbles pipes up having polished off Buck's toast. "We should write her a thank you card!"

"Nora?" Buck twitches.

"The girl who dyed Bucky's hair, of course!" Curt chimed in reaching for Bucky's coffee. Bucky batted his hands away, holding desperately onto his cup. "Pretty girl too! Kept running her hands through Bucky's hair saying how nice it was."

"I think nows a good time to stop that." Jack shoved his last slice of toast in Curt's mouth.

Buck's hand was still hovering over Bucky's cheek.

"Oh, now I remember!" Bucky leaned towards Curt and Bubbles with a bright smile. "She kissed me on the cheek before we left, right?"

Buck pushed his chair away from the table with a screech. Jack turned back to his grapefruit juice with a sigh.

Buck stormed out of the building, and it was through the combined efforts of Curt and Bubbles that Bucky didn't run after him. They could hear yelling through the still open window.

"Oh shit!"

"Everybody run! Major Cleven's pissed!"

"Who flirted with Bucky this time?!"

"Buck calm down, whoever it was they probably didn't mean anything by it!"

"Outta my way Crank."

"Buck, c'mon if you go to jail, who'll stay by Bucky's side?"

"Only gotta go to prison if I get caught."

"That's right-wait, Buck, no!"

Bucky sipped at his coffee. Jack sighed and turned to Bucky.

"Would you please go stop him? I'm not explaining to Harding why one of the 100th murdered a civilian, a fellow Major, and a replacement."

"Buck wouldn't do that," Bucky rolled his eyes.

Jack stared at him, judgement clear in his eyes. Bucky shifted under his gaze.

"Fine," Bucky groaned and pushed away from the table. He refilled his cup of coffee. "He wouldn't, but I'll go stop him."

Curt and Bubbles chirped their goodbyes as they waved down an attendant. Bucky mourned his pot of coffee as he glanced back and saw Curt gleefully pouring it into a cup.

Stepping put in the sunshine, Bucky reached for his sunglasses. Finding Buck would be easy. He simply turned in the direction of the yelling and started walking.

He ignored the boys all watching him and whispering. Now that he was walking, he could see his reflection in the windows of the buildings he passed. His normally brown locks were now a bright blond. He felt a bit foolish for not seeing it earlier, but hangovers tended to narrow one's field of vision to only what's necessary.

"DeMarcooo!" Bucky called out when he saw the other walking Meatball. "You seen Buck anywhere?"

"Just missed him," Benny yelled back. He pointed to the left of the barracks. "Went that way!"

"Thanks!" Bucky called back with a smile. A few of the boys around him erupted in whispers.

"Nice hair!" Benny yelled with a grin. Bucky rolled his eyes and kept walking. Buck couldn't have gone too far, right?

He found Buck only a few minutes later outside of one of the barracks the replacements were quartered. He was leaning against a wall talking to someone.

"Buck!" Bucky jogged over. As he got closer, he realized that the person Buck was talking to was the kid from earlier. "Monroe! Good to see you again so soon!"

"Major!" Monroe squeaked, eyes bouncing from Buck to Bucky. "Major Cleven was just reminding me about a few chores that I forgot about! I'll get going! Sirs!"

The kid ran off before Bucky could stop him. Buck watched with a satisfied gleam in his eyes, and Bucky huffed out a laugh.

"You know, you don't have to act all jealous to get my attention," Bucky pulled Buck to him by wrapping an arm around his waist. "I'll still only ever look at you."

"Just making sure everyone else knows that." Buck replied, voice low and serious.

Bucky reached up his free hand to drag him down into a kiss. Buck melted into his touch. Bucky laughed into he kiss as he tried to keep his coffee from spilling all over the two of them. He pecks the corner of Buck's mouth and pulls away.

"So you like the hair?" Bucky scrunches his nose into a shit eating grin.

Buck wiped that grin off his face with another kiss. Not that Bucky was complaining, of course.

Later that night, after making sure Buck didn't actually murder anyone, Bucky found himself in front of a vaguely familiar drug store.

"Well Major, I take it your boy liked the blond?" Nora grinned, pink lips spread into a devilish smile. She leaned one hip against the drug store counter. "Surprised you made it back here. You boys weren't exactly stone cold sober when you left."

"I always remember my bets, darling. I'll forget a lot but never those." Bucky laughed and set his hat down on the counter next to her. A single blond curl fell down into his eyes. "Now, what's this about makeup?"

"Oh, Major, you'll look lovely in something peachy."

[entropicbias]

my blog post

friends, i have just now realized that tumblr is also a blogging website. so, despite the fact that i have a blogspot, i will share some fun little tid bits about my world.

ok, so first of all, the star trek fever is hitting me just as hard as my regular fevers are hitting me. i've been sick three times in the past three months. probably cause my sister keeps finding a way to get some new strain of virus from eating dirt or whatever the hell she does on a regular basis.

asides from that, i've moved and my room is starting to get some personality. this was the state of my desk pre- me deciding that i couldn't deal with my 8 year old shitty slow lenovo all in one from 2016/2017 and also removing that unstable cardboard shelf with all my games and movies.

on the bright side, i moved a lot of my stuff to a bookshelf.

doesn't exactly look how i want it to, but i guess it'll do for now. there are more shelves to it, i just think they're super ugly in comparison cause they are filled with notebooks and books i need for uni.

back to my star trek fever, it has very recently taken over a good portion of my head. which is great! less room for homestuck, right? WRONG! homestuck is still also up there, which blows. it's been a few years y'know? i thought this would send it to the grave. well, i'm glad it hasn't. don't let the spider-man stuff fool you, if i had to put my biggest fandom interests in order it'd be homestuck, star trek, and ghostbusters.

so, immediately without thought i got as much star trek merch as i could with 50 bucks. that shelf lacked a communicator replica and those novels i got are also new. i also have a TNG shirt from 2001 now, which is awesome. i have not seen star trek tng yet, but i've surmised that i'll probably most definitely like it. i cannot believe patrick stewart has been an old man for almost 40 years. i was like, but he looked exactly like that in x-men? geordi even has the cyclops visor it's incredible. data seems super funny from the clips i have seen, so i'm looking forward to it. i have started to also be particularly fond of writing. i'm usually not good at stepping out of my comfort zone when it comes to that, cause i regard myself as a super shitty writer but spock and kirk's beautiful relationship have inspired me to give it a try, and i kind of liked it a lot. so, maybe i will try and do it for john and dave as well? sometimes with art i just cannot be assed, so maybe in my quest of trying to show the world how GOATED their friendship is i can whip up some fanfiction. entropicbias flavored.

anyways, more art soon. i know i have a lot of asks and stuff. sorry, i will get to them when i can. i think i regard this site as a Q/A type deal where i just take requests but i've decided that's kind of what my strawpage is for? so, i'll start posting more art and less requests and messages from my inbox that don't particularly interest me.

entropicbias OUT!

[daintev]

"My death was...greatly exaggerated" THAT'S RIGHT I'M BACK WITH MORE MY TWO CENTS PLUS TAX FANART!! I'VE RISEN FROM MY GRAVE ONCE AGAIN!!!

I've got this fun little headcanon that Sanders does drag and has been doing it for well over a decade now, do I think he'd do this in canon? I don't know but it's just a fun idea nonetheless! and of course, I drew him in a Lady Gaga outfit because it'd feel wrong not to.

Most of these sketches were just to familiarise me with the characters again as I lost a bit of energy in the past 2-ish months so I wasn't used to drawing them like I was, I mean considering I used to draw them almost every day it's no surprise I burnt myself out a bit. But it's been a lot of fun drawing these fellas again! :D

[lunarw0rks]

https://www.tumblr.com/lunarw0rks/727422901965438976/how-do-you-think-task-force-alejandro-k%C3%B6nig

oooo kinda like this but flipped, how do you think they would react to their daughter’s prom date being another girl??

『 price 』

absolutely no qualms, as long as her date was respectful to his daughter and he.

asks her to show him photos when they get home — definitely made all three of them pose for one before they left!

"have fun!" all whilst he's crying inside because his daughter is going to prom and has a nice date 🥺

refused to go to sleep until he could greet his daughter at the door, say goodnight to her date, then ask about everything she did at prom.

『 simon 』

"prom?" he'd ask at first, with genuine confusion. he never went to the school events, so he sort of forgot they existed until they came up. "well, alright, with who?"

though he never saw the point in those dances, it didn't mean his daughter couldn't <3

more like an apathetically supportive dad. he would worry endlessly when she was out having fun yet did little to show it on the outside.

refrained from calling and texting until it was over, but was checking her location religiously. when she arrived home happy, he felt relief; "did you... have fun, at least?"

『 soap 』

just smiled proudly when he saw his daughter's date, how excited she was to go to prom. it didn't matter with whom, as long as she was going to have fun and be safe.

is probably the one of the parents chaperoning at prom, staying with his daughter and her group/date throughout the night.

takes them on a snack run afterward, hands them his card without a word🥺🥺

insists that it'd be easier if they have a sleepover after, as opposed to driving her date home.

『 gaz 』

thought his daughter's excitement was adorable, as was how well she clicked with her prom date.

overhearing their plans, them hanging out beforehand, the picture updates he asked for of the outfits they picked, etc.

"do you have your water bottle? charger? what about your extra shoes?" had her bring a small baggie with extra essentials.

it was either that, or he'd be the dad to embarrass his daughter by bringing her the supplies she needed during her prom (lmao)

『 alejandro 』

knew about prom in advance, since he was the one that insisted he help her pick out an outfit.

did he have a clue what he was talking about? no, but he wanted to be included.

"which dress did you choose, mi cielo?" definitely made her twirl and show pics of what his date was wearing, especially if they planned on matching <3

made his daughter triple check that her phone was charged, that she had her wallet, etc. he wanted it to be a perfect night for her.

『 könig 』

similar to soap, was chaperoning but not through the school. gave them a ride to every spot, then took them out for dinner afterward.

didn't formally meet his daughter's date up until then, but trusted that his kid was going with someone responsible.

sat at a neighboring table but gave them the privacy to hang out and enjoy their meal.

had a brief conversation when dropping the date off at home, then told his daughter she was free to visit whenever <3

『 graves 』

let's be honest, he's probably clueless. oh, she's going with a girl? that's nice, no need to worry about interrogating a boy!!

definitely arrange it so his daughter's date can have dinner with them before, maybe even drive them to the venue himself.

"call me when it's over, sweetheart! don't do anything I wouldn't do!" as they walk into prom hand in hand.

probably wouldn't go back home, just drives around until it's time to pick them up.

[oletusfragments]

— I SMILE A LOT WHEN I'M IN FRONT OF YOU ; I FEEL LOVE, AFFECTION

⋄ Surprising each other on Valentine's Day

Characters: Andrew Kreiss, Demi Bourbon, Norton Campbell

▭ self indulg. ▭ genderneutral ▭ fluff ▭ not proofread ▭

— ANDREW

Being with you feels like a dream. Andrew hadn't realized that it's almost Valentine's day.

Just kidding, he's actually been thinking about it since December. What? You're so special to him. It's only right he does something special for you too.

He noted every small detail that gives a clue about what you're fond of. And despite his dislike for social situations, he approached Emma to help him set up a gift for you.

Actually, he tried to approach her. It was the gardener that confronted him after she noticed that he's been following her while staring at her as if wanting to ask her something. Much to the grave keeper's relief, Emma was happy to help.

But he can't help but get worried. The gardener kept giggling and snickering whenever he was with you. She might give away the surprise! But for some reason, you were also fidgety. Do you already know? Maybe you don't like it? Oh god, he's even more uneasy now.

He thought of dropping the surprise but then that means he won't have anything for you at valentine's day. No, he loves you. And he trusts you.

The day of the much awaited Valentine's day finally arrived. After lunchtime, he planned to ask you to meet him in the garden while trying not to be obvious as possible.

"Can you meet me at the garden later, dear? I-it's nothing serious. I just...have something to show you."

"What? That's funny, I was going to ask you the same thing." You said to him.

What a coincidence, he merely thought.

Meanwhile, you were feeling antsy. Andrew did say that it's nothing serious. But you hoped it wouldn't ruin what you want to do for him today.

After you both parted, Andrew immediately went to his room to quickly get his presents and arrive first at the garden. It'd be ugly if he arrived last, he thought.

The albino waits at the garden with trepidation, as he stands there holding your presents—a bouquet of your favorite flowers, and a present wrapped in a wrapper of your favorite color.

"Ah! Andrew, you're already here..."

He hears your voice and footsteps approach him. But why do you sound slightly disappointed? Oh no. No, it's too late to back out!

He feels your figure behind him and he preps himself. His hands slightly trembling from nervousness. He inhales, gathering up courage before turning around to face you, almost losing his balance.

"Y/N, Happy Valentine's Day!" Andrew shouts. Oh Lord, he didn't mean to be that loud. The grave keeper flushes in embarrassment while hanging his head low, and his eyes closed.

"Oh...I..."

He knew it. You're embarrassed for him, aren't you? He trembles in his stance, scared of what you'll say next.

But only your laughter was heard.

Andrew gulped. Were you making fun of him now? He looked up at you, confused and mortified.

But there you were in front of him, bathed in the sunlight peeking from the clouds. You were holding a bouquet of his favorite purple irises wrapped in a light pink wrapper and a gift wrapped Ina wrapper with heart patterns. You were laughing heartily.

To him, you looked breathtaking. It doesn't matter if you say you look like a mess or you're only wearing casual clothes. You looked beautiful.

"Ahaha! I was planning to surprise you first."

His mouth falls agape in shock and his blush deepens. What? "I–...those are for me?"

"Of course! Did you think I wasn't going to do anything for you today?" You asked, walking closer to him.

"I didn't think...well..." The grave keeper fumbles over his words.

You take the present you were carrying to your other arm so you could caress his cheek.

"Andrew, you mean the world to me. And I'd do anything to prove to you just how special you are." You say before pulling him down/tilting his head up to meet your lips–taking him in a sweet kiss.

The two of you part, breathless.

"I love you."

— DEMI

February 14th isn't just about Valentine's Day, it's also Demi's birthday! It's twice the celebration!

That is why you've been wracking up your brain trying to think of something to do for the lovely barmaid of the manor.

Perhaps you've been too stressed trying to come up with something since Demi kept trying to ask you what was wrong despite telling her that you're fine.

"You sure? Don't work yourself up too much, okay?" Demi says, combing her fingers through your hair.

If you didn't stop yourself, you might've fallen asleep from the gesture with the help of her voice that sounded like a lullaby to you after going through a frustration.

Really, what can you do for this beautiful woman?

What can you do?

That question never left you. Even as you wrote a newfound idea. The reason why your mind stays awake even though your eyes wanted to close that night.

The day after that, you started planning and preparing furiously. It almost intimidated the others around you. It was like you had grown another pair of arms as they witnessed you feverishly prepare something in the kitchen.

Demi had taught you how to mix drinks before. She was so passionate about teaching it to you that she even expressed that she anticipates your progress. In fact, in the future, once the both of you find Demi's brother, you plan to set up a bar run by Demi and you.

So you thought, why not mix a drink to show her how much you've improved? Paired up with a romantic dinner or lunch (whatever you prefer) date, prepared by your own hands.

That is what you've been trying to achieve in the kitchen. A mix that you could impress her with.

You felt giddy and nervous while making it. And those feelings never leave you even as you look at your own work on the special day.

A white table embroidered with floral patterns, two seats–that you made sure was comfortable to sit on, in front of it are the meals you've prepared, and in the middle of the table was a vase containing a few roses. The drink you've especially made was lying in your hands. You were still unsure, even after the million taste tests you did. It tasted fine but will it be good enough?

Demi was going to arrive here sooner or later. There's no time to panic or to alter things. You'll just have to make sure it goes well, and if it doesn't–you leave it up to date and hope for the best.

"Well, my. Is this all for me?"

You almost jumped out of your skin. The bottle in your hands almost shattered from your grip. But the presence behind you merely laughed.

"Yes–! Demi! Happy Birthday! …And Happy Valentine's day too!" You greeted, facing her sheepishly.

The barmaid chuckled once again. How precious you are, she thinks.

"And what's that?"She points at the porcelain bottle in your hands.

"Ah, well...I made it for you. It's a mix I made on my own. I hope you like it."

Demi grins wider. She rushed up to hug you and kissed your cheek. "Aw, geez. You've certainly outdone yourself. How can my present be as amazing as yours?"

What? You break away from her embrace. "What do you mean?"

Demi pulls a small red box adorned with a white ribbon from her pockets. You could smell the faint scent of chocolates and roses from it.

"I have something for you too." She says while handing it to you.

You shook your head, "But Demi, it's your special day today! You shouldn't have…"

"Ha! That's right. It's my birthday and I get to do what I want. And I chose to give you a gift." She declared, urging you to take the gift.

Her eyes narrowed and she gave you a sly grin, "You'll do anything for the birthday girl, right?"

You could only sigh as you gave up attempting to argue with her. Cradling the bottle on one of your arms carefully while you use your vacant hand to take her gift.

"Now let's dine in! I can't wait to try what you've made!" Demi grabbed your arm and pulled you with her as she rushed to the table.

"Ah–hold on!" You exclaim.

The rest of the time was filled with smiles and laughter as the two of you enjoyed your time together.

— NORTON

Look, he's broke. That is no secret. He would have never thought that a holiday, something he hardly think about, turns into a day he'll stress himself out on.

Everyone could see that the prospector is working harder to earn money than usual. That says a lot, because Norton has always been a hardworking individual. Others regarded this change as just desperation to conquer poverty quick.

Perhaps the said motive still stays true. It's what the prospector claims to the few people that asked him to atleast take a break. But what he's not telling is that it's always you that appears in his head as he works. How badly he wants to use his money to get you the riches you deserve to be pampered with. But dear, he needs that money to eat, that's why he's trying to earn more.

Actually, You and Norton aren't a thing yet. He's planning to confess to you this valentine's day—as cheesy as that may sound.

He wish he could give you more, really. But he hopes that these three red roses and chocolates in a heart shaped box is enough. It was the most popular gifts—and the cheapest.

Beneath the moody exterior that shouts "I don't care!" Is a heart that is nervous and wishing to love. He does in fact care, he does in fact love you.

Norton may not be able to afford certain things, but he could prove to you that he can give you all the love in the world. He just hopes that you'd give this poor man a chance.

Please? The plead repeats on his head as the pen writes an invitation for you to meet him at the garden on the day of valentine's.

Please? The word repeats on his head, his heart starts to beat faster as he approaches you with the gifts at hand.

"...I love you. I mean it." Please. Let me love you.

In front of him, you stand surprised. But what you did next shocked him even more.

You pulled your very own gifts and a love letter addressed to him from behind you.

You smiled warmly at him, something that felt like a comforting blanket after being in the cold for too long.

"I wanted to tell you the same thing! I–...I love you too." You confess, face flushing.

Norton stands, face blank but cheeks turning noticeably red. His eyes softened, and he let out an eased sigh.

"I have one more thing to give to you, actually." He says, moving closer to you.

"Wha–really? Norton that's–" You couldn't finish your sentence. Taken aback when he took your hands in his and put it in his chest. Where you could feel his heart racing despite his unbothered expression.

"My heart. It's yours." He says and captured your lips in his.

[ Happy Valentine's Day, Everyone! (*˘︶˘*).｡*♡ ]

[lowkeyrobin]

👀 guess who's back

Is now a bad time to request a Foosh fic?

helloooo!! ; also I'm backed the fuck up but dw I swear I'll get this shit posted LMAO ; also went for some angst cause why not (I wanted to write maze runner angst of some sort but idek I have too many reqs)

FOOLISH GAMERS ; meet you at the graveyard

summary ; you have to say goodbye to one another

warnings ; language, suicidal innuendos

disclaimers ; snow in carolina 😭🙏 forgot where bro lives for a minute, reader is 23 but can mostly be ignored ig, young sheldon reference, me venting about loss and grief kinda idek

track ; meet you at the graveyard, cleffy

word count ; 853

b/m = birth month & b/d = birth date

masterlist

Foolish somblerly walks up to the graveyard where you lay now, where you stay now. He carries a bouquet of crimson red roses in his hand, the snow under his feet making a crushing sound as he walks.

His head hangs low, the vision of the accident and your face clouding his mind as he lays eyes on your headstone. He sets the flowers down across the snow, covering the bottom of your headstone like a freezing cold blanket.

You didn't deserve this, being only twenty-three.

His fingers trace your birth date and death date fragiley, like he'd hurt you beyond the grave.

B/M B/D, 1999 - December 28th, 2022

It stung seeing those numbers like that, under this circumstance. Your birthday was something to be celebrated, bringing joy and excitement, but now it hurt. Instead of creating more fun, happy memories with you, he'd have to sit in silence and ponder, drowning in those old memories because he couldn't make any new ones with you.

He sits down, looking blankly at the grey stone, then up at the grey skies above.

He talked to you every once in a while when he visited, trying to fill the empty hole in his heart. He felt like Mary Cooper talking to you like this, still hurt and alone, just wishing it'd all get better.

"How do you ever expect me to be happy?" He asks, his tone laced with the slightest bit of anger. Anger at himself mostly, angry at the force that took you away from him. "Why isn't letting go as easy as loving you?"

Tears stream down his frost-bitten cheeks, glowing a bright red. He wasn't properly dressed for the cold, only wearing some thick shoes, jeans, and a heavy coat over a t-shirt. He'd nearly left the house wearing basketball shorts until he saw the snow in his yard.

"I can't help it, it's just the way I'm wired, I know. I just can't let go. I love you too much to even try." He shakes his head, shoulders raised as he tenses up. "Every time I see photo recaps of you on my phone, I just cry. I don't wanna cry anymore, Y/n/n. I wanna smile when I see you, but I can't."

He wipes his tears away with his thick sleeves, sniffling a bit as he attempts to keep his composure.

"You taught me so much, you gave me so many new experiences and memories and showed me things I never would've if it weren't for you. I'm here right now because of you, everything is because of you." He admits. "Getting over you feels so wrong, even if it's just trying to live with myself without you. Those words that you said before you left my house are stuck in my head like glue, I don't know what you even meant. I can't even tell between fact and fiction with it"

He thinks of it over and over again before whispering it aloud. "'See you tomorrow, maybe', what does that mean?" He questions, "What does that even mean?" He asks again, his voice breaking.

At the response of nothing, he hides his face in his hands, struggling to hold back the tears. He quickly stands up without wishing you goodbye, heading back to the front entrance to leave and get back home.

You watch as he does so, his frozen fingertips hidden in his pockets. You sat on top of your headstone, knowing he couldn't see nor hear you, hoping one day he could. You always answered his questions, responded to his statements. You'd stay there until he joined you, hoping it was later rather than sooner, if anything.

As much as you'd been waiting for him, you could wait longer. You wanted him to live the long, fulfilling life you didn't give yourself. He'd be okay without you, he just needed time to adapt.

The days flick by quickly as if they're merely seconds, showing the snow melting over time and those roses wilting. Eventually, they're fully decomposed, leaving the plastic wrapping to be picked up by a stranger visiting their loved one, as it'd blown in the wind toward them. The grass is cut again once it's warm again.

They never weed wack, but mow over the flowers Foolish left at your grave, angering him. He decided that every time he'd come, about once every two to three months, he'd plant new ones. They hadn't run over the new rose bush he'd put beside your headstone, pleasing him at least.

You watched as he grew month after month, clearly happier and healthier after each visit. They'd become more sporadic, but he'd never healed, you don't just heal after losing someone like that. You break for good, you're able to super glue the broken plate back together, but cracks and small missing pieces still remain.

His goofy laugh makes itself present one day, lighting up your whole face like you'd never smiled before. It glued together one of those broken pieces inside of you, you swore it.

"I love you, Y/n/n."