#but the others sometimes eat their words too

[please-destroy]

The 26th of December

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word Count 4k

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You first met at the Shield base. She was ahead of you in the cafeteria line.

Natasha was alone. You’d never seen her before and you guessed she was a new agent. She was slightly jittery. She held herself unnaturally still but her eyes darted around the room. Barely noticeable, but you caught it. 

Her red hair was tied back in two perfect braids, her pale face was fresh except for dark shadows under her eyes. You stood next to her in the line, holding a plastic tray and feeling like a school-child all over again. 

Natasha held an apple in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Her grip made the plastic crackle. 

‘You know, it’s not so bad here.’ You mused aloud after a minute, enjoying the way her head whipped around at the sound of your voice.

Her breath hitched and then she regained herself. You watched her expression move immediately from panic to calm. You took note of the emotional control. Not a typical rookie agent. 

‘Maybe for you. They’re training me with Robin Hood.’ She answered after a beat.

‘Oh.’ You pretended to consider. ‘Well then, I guess you’re fucked.’

Her answering laugh rasped through you like an electric current.

.

You ended up sitting at the same table,whilst you ate. Natasha was a mix of conflicting signals. Her smile was easy but it rarely reflected in her eyes. Her shoulders were loose, but her posture was stiff.

She ate her apple slowly. You tried to make small talk between bites of your own meal. You started to hear the trace of a Russian accent in her short responses. 

Natasha was down to the apple core before she told you anything about herself. Even then, it was just fragments. She’d made a deal with Agent Barton, she’d held up her end of the bargain, now she was here.

You didn’t press for more details. You didn’t think you could.

Instead, you pushed your plate to the centre of the table and gestured to the untouched fries.

‘Well.’ You said lightly. ‘Maybe this ridiculous place can be your home.’

Natasha’s lips twisted into something too complicated to be a smile.  

‘I don’t think I know what home is.’

You glanced at her hand, sneaking to grab a fry. You grinned.

‘Don’t worry.’ You promised. ‘It’s not that complicated.’

.

Conversation with Natasha was like trying to fill in a blank sheet of paper. Sometimes, you felt like your threw conversation topics into the air, trying to guess what she wanted to talk about.

It was easy to spend time with her. Despite different routines and training, you made a habit of eating together.

The habit became easy.

Every mealtime, you found yourselves together at the same time and same place. 

.

Through her first months at Shield, you watched Natasha’s demeanour change. 

Her smile became easy with others. She didn’t tense up in crowds anymore. When your friends came occasionally to sit at your table, she always seemed to welcome the company. You couldn’t tell for sure if she liked them but she never seemed to hesitate when she found herself in a group. 

She definitely preferred socialising with you there. You knew she’d declined a few bigger get-togethers with other agents. 

You thought maybe she liked that you’d known her so long. Longer than anyone except Agent Barton.

Her eyes sparkled whenever she started talking about an inside joke between the two of you. If people were around, she’d meet your gaze daring you to share the story behind it.

Your mind still lingered on what she’d said about home, on the first day that you'd met her.

You wondered what she thought about it now.

.

Every so often, you’d catch the mask slipping. A wince after training, when she sat down at the table. A worried expression that smoothed itself immediately into an easy smile. A momentary stormy look aimed at nothing in particular.

The shadows that lingered under her eyes, darkening and fading with a cyclicality that worried you. 

Sometimes, she’d steal a piece of food from your plate and give you a look too fatigued to be playful.

It was after one of those looks that you invited her back to your rooms at the Shield base.

You had to finish some work, you told her, but you’d like the company anyway.

It felt obvious, like a natural next step that should’ve happened months ago.

You couldn’t help lighting up inside when she said yes. 

.

That evening you typed on your laptop from the sofa, enjoying absentmindedly Natasha's exploration of your space. Her casualness was undercut by tiny hesitations. 

She wandered in and out your kitchen like she was on a guided tour, you heard muffled noises and knew she was rustling through your rarely used spice rack. She wandered back through to your living room, and you tried not to smile obviously when she touched the edge of your fluffy rug experimentally with her foot. She studied the cushions on your sofa and the house plant by the door. You watched her finger trail down the spines of several books on your bookshelf. 

Every time she moved on from something, you waited for her to finally settle. To sit next to you on the sofa, to switch on the TV, or start to talk. 

It was when you heard the rubber duck squeak in your bathroom, that you finally understood. Why would she know how to make herself at home?

‘Natasha.’ You called, looking up from your laptop screen. Natasha’s head popped around a doorway.

You smiled automatically and watched her match it with a smile of her own.

‘You know, you can do whatever you want here’ You told her, tone light but still serious. ‘Mi casa es tu casa.’

Natasha rolled her eyes. You knew then that you’d been too forward. You’d acknowledged her discomfort but she hadn’t wanted you to see it in the first place.

You didn’t feel sorry. You meant what you said. You rose from the sofa to make you both some coffee. 

You touched her shoulder with absentminded affection as you walked past. Natasha went still at the action. You turned before you entered the kitchen, wanting to double check if the touch was okay.

You watched Natasha smile secretly down at the ground. She lifted her head, feeling your gaze and rolled her eyes again. Her smile only got stronger. 

You walked into the kitchen feeling lighter than air. When you returned five minutes later, Natasha was sitting cross legged on your floor. 

She gave you a small smirk when you handed her the coffee mug. You sat on the sofa, just to the side of her. You watched silently as she ripped blank pages out of one of your old notebooks. Her fingers worked deftly as she made snowflakes, origami shapes and chains of paper dolls. 

You watched her with a mix of awe and something undefinable. You thought about home. How the definition of it was starting to change for you too.

After some time, you couldn’t help but reach over, picking up the red biro pen that was lying on the coffee table. Natasha startled then relaxed readily, when you moved to sit beside her. She watched as you messily coloured in the hair of the nearest paper doll. The bright red was almost obnoxious.

Natasha elbowed you lightly when you scribbled ‘Romanoff’ on the doll’s dress.

When Natasha left, you hung the paper dolls above the TV.

.

Agent Barton told you about Natasha’s dilemma before she did. You’d never spoken before but when he caught up with you in the hallway, he addressed you by your first name. It took you a moment to realise that he knew exactly who you were. It turned out, Natasha talked a lot about you. 

Natasha’s annual vacation time was mandatory and had to be taken, but she hadn’t booked any of it. Clint didn’t need to explain why. You’d known Natasha for nearly six months now and she’d never spoken about anyone except the people she’d met since joining Shield. 

Clint lay the problem out matter of factly. 

Natasha had nowhere to go and she didn’t seem to want to leave.

It was the easiest solution you’d ever come up with.

.

You found Natasha in weapons training. She was easy to spot with her usual red braid falling down between her shoulder blades. Her arms were raised as she aimed a gun. Ears covered and focus exact. 

She still spotted you almost immediately. 

You waved awkwardly as she lowered her gun and removed her ear defenders. 

‘What are you doing for Christmas?’

Natasha’s head tilted. At first, you thought she hadn’t understood the question. It took a second, before you realised that she didn’t understand why you were asking. She thought it was obvious that she didn’t have plans.

‘Maybe we could rent a place for the vacation time.’ You suggested. ‘We could go somewhere snowier than here.’

Natasha watched you for a long moment and then you watched her lips life into a small smile.

‘I like snow.’ She said at last. 

.

The next few weeks passed slowly. A new anticipation crept into your life. You rented a cabin in the middle of nowhere for the holidays. In theory, it was the perfect background for an idyllic snowy Christmas. Trees surrounded it on three sides, it was one step away from a true nature retreat. 

When you described the vacation home to Natasha. She’d just nodded seriously, like you were giving her a rundown of details for a future mission. You tried not to let her reaction worry you, she was relatively quiet for the rest of the day.

The next day, Natasha joined you for breakfast with obvious intent. Before you'd had time to say hello. Natasha asked you about the clothes and other essentials you were planning to pack. You found yourself head first into a detailed conversation, full of follow up questions about things like the capacity of your car trunk.

It was then, as she nodded seriously to each of your answers, that you realised. Natasha didn't know what to expect.

The realisation made you feel a sudden sense of responsibility and freedom. Natasha had no expectations for what the holiday could be. But she'd still said yes. It was a good feeling to be trusted.

You observed her sitting across the table. Natasha chewed her lower lip as she thought about her next question. Her fork spun thoughtlessly against her plate.

You realised, that everyone in this place knew either Agent Romanoff or the Black Widow.

You were the only one who knew Natasha.

Natasha cleared her throat awkwardly, her voice came out quieter and she leaned forward slightly. 

‘Could we?’ She hesitated. ‘Should we bring fairy lights? Would that be festive?’

You’d never smiled harder in your life.

‘Yeah.’ You agreed enthusiastically, reaching over to pause her fork mid-twirl. ‘That would be amazing.’

You’d once sat opposite a blank page but now Natasha was a watercolour.

.

The vacation time came at last and together you drove away from the Shield base full of anticipation. 

Natasha was silent, her focus turned to the world passing outside the car window. You fiddled with the radio and tried not to overthink her quietness.

Just over an hour into your drive, you realised that her eyes were sparkling. Another quick glance over to her and you saw the small smile hidden on her lips.

You let some of your excitement trickle back in. You switched the radio to Christmas music and watched her hand quietly tap against her thigh.

Natasha was your best friend. She was starting to become your family. 

You felt your heart squeeze with a new happiness when you heard her deep intake of breath as you drove up to the cabin. The wooden exterior was framed with a thousand golden fairy lights. You’d called the rental agency and asked for a favour. You hadn’t been able to resist.

You watched Natasha’s expression as she stepped out of the car. For the first time, any trace of uncertainty was forgotten. Her wide eyes filled with curiosity and excitement. 

Her foot crunched on the frozen ground and her eyes shot to the snow covered forest floor with a muted joy. You laughed and her gaze found you instead. Her red hair was loose and long, she’d combed out her braids during the car ride. It framed her face prettily. 

Natasha rolled her eyes at your expression but then she started to smile widely.

You held up a finger in a silent request for her to wait a minute before you hurried to the trunk of your car. You fished in your bag for a few moments and retrieved a pair of festive felt reindeer antlers. 

Your face hurt from smiling so hard as you walked back and fixed the pair of antlers onto Natasha’s head. Natasha’s bare fingers reached up and traced the soft material. Her expression was undecided and then it relaxed into another bright smile. For the first time, your heart pounded nervously at her proximity. You’d never seen someone look so beautiful. Natasha moved her head and the bells on the antlers tinkled.

‘Come on.’ You murmured, another persistent smile tugging at your lips. ‘You’ll get cold.’

.

The next few days were illuminating. It became clear just how embedded Natasha’s lifestyle was, as you watched her invent and stick to a new regimented schedule. There was something fascinating about how naturally she followed a routine, even with no real pressure to keep it.

Early morning runs, chopping wood for the stove, yoga, completing stolen work assignments, reading spy novels, undertaking thorough research into unusual topics.

Your schedule was something different. Unlike Natasha, you reverted immediately to a more relaxed way of life, happily shaking off the Shield agent lifestyle. 

You woke later in the day, always after the sun had decidedly risen. You scrounged breakfast from the fridge. You let any passing whim decide your day’s activity. A stroll to find a nearby frozen lake, a sudden urge to make gingerbread.

You realised soon enough that Natasha’s busy schedule was really paper thin. It only took an invitation and she was eager to join yours instead. She told you all about her spy novel when she joined you on your rambling walk to find the frozen lake. She told you about trying to run in the snow outside as she helped with the icing for your gingerbread house. 

That was the other thing that you were starting to notice about Natasha. You’d known her for nearly a year now. You knew you liked her company. You could tell she liked yours. You realised that every minute you spent together only made you want a thousand minutes more.

On the third morning, you woke up to the smell of coffee. You opened your eyes readily, you’d been moments from waking up at your usual time anyway. Natasha cleared her throat and you startled before seeing her standing awkwardly in the doorway. She was holding two mugs of coffee, clearly unsure. 

You smiled automatically at the sight of her. Natasha’s shoulders relaxed and she smiled too. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail and she was wearing green winter pyjamas, straight from a cheesy catalogue. 

‘Morning.’ You yawned as you sat up.

‘Morning.’ She echoed, handing you the coffee.

‘You’re the best.’ You mumbled happily, taking a sip.

You felt Natasha hesitate, trying to decide if she should leave. You patted the bedspread beside you. It was an easy invitation. Natasha curled up in the space next to you, hands cupping her mug.

‘I like your pyjamas.’ You said with a smirk.

‘Shut up.’ She said dryly, but you could tell she was pleased. 

‘Very festive.’

.

You drank coffee in silence for a few minutes and then you started to talk. 

At first it was light things, another book she’d just read, how cold it was that morning. 

.

Then the conversation shifted. She started to tell you real things.

Pieces of childhood. The way the tree branches bowed over the walls of her childhood home. The deep chill of Russian winters. Her favourite American Christmas movie. Where she’d been when she first saw it. 

You thought about all the light talking she’d been doing this vacation as you passed your days together. You wondered if she’d been trying to find the courage for this. With every smile or nod from you, the words kept coming from Natasha. Difficult things. Happy memories that lived with an undercurrent of sadness.

You felt a lump in your throat listening to her, wishing you could explain how much you liked hearing her talk like that. How much you liked her.

It was all special.

.

That Christmas Eve, you suggested a drive to the nearest town for supplies. Natasha looked confused but she only smiled and agreed. She didn’t mention your full kitchen pantry and stacked fridge, already full to the brim with enough ingredients for a full Christmas dinner.

This time, she didn’t stare out the car window for the journey. Instead, she played with the radio dials until she found a Christmas song to sing along to. Her quiet singing made your chest tight with an overwhelming kind of feeling.

You pulled up outside a second-hand store. Natasha looked even more confused as she read the sign on the store. You dragged her in with you to pick up the order that you’d called ahead to see if they had in stock.

In the car, Natasha held the DVD of her favourite American Christmas movie like it was her first ever present.

You only pulled the car over one other time. The very last Christmas tree left in the parking lot beside the small hardware store was cheap and hard not to take pity on. 

Together that afternoon, you adorned the tree with some fairy lights taken from the outside porch and for the rest of the evening, Natasha made paper decorations. You put on an old CD of Christmas music that you'd found, before sitting next to Natasha and starting one of the spy novels that she'd already told you the entire plot of.

As she made the decorations, Natasha began to sing again.

.

You didn’t swap presents on Christmas Day. 

Natasha had asked you about that weeks before and you’d promised her not to worry. 

It started like the days before it,  Natasha walked into your room with her usual quiet hesitation and two mugs of coffee. She started grinning when she saw you, sitting up and ready with the pair of reindeer antlers already on your head. 

She gave you your mug and curled familiarly into the space beside you.

‘What do you want to do today?’ She asked, the question feeling completely natural after the last week. 

You turned your head towards her and watched Natasha try not to laugh when your antler’s tinkled.

‘I want to see the best Christmas movie that you’ve ever seen.’

Natasha's eyes closed when she smiled in response. Her head rested gently against your shoulder.

Spending a day with Natasha was the easiest way to spend a day.

It was a good Christmas.

.

Natasha nudged your door open on the morning of the 26th of December. Your last vacation day. You were already awake; she offered you your coffee before she started to speak. You held your breath in anticipation when she cleared her throat nervously.

‘I wanted to say thank you.’ She said carefully. ‘For letting me come here.’

She stood awkwardly at the foot of your bed. She was still wearing her festive pyjamas and you thought that they might be your favourite thing in the world. Her hair was tied back in its usual long braid. She chewed her lower lip and you watched her eyes try to dart nervously before she focused them on you.

‘Natasha.’ You tried to find the right words, cupping your hot mug. ‘You’re my favourite person in the world. You don't have to say thank you. It wouldn't feel like home without you.’

That was the moment. When the last piece clicked. 

You watched Natasha walk slowly around your bed. You watched her place her coffee mug on the nightstand. You felt the bed shift as she crawled into the familiar space beside you.

Her thumb brushed your cheek when she kissed you. Her touch was warm from the coffee mug.

She tasted like home.

.

Things fell apart slowly and then all at once. 

.

You returned to the real world. 

Natasha’s training had been becoming more specialised for a long time. Director Fury’s plans for her became clearer and more intentional. Her time was less her own. 

You were careful never to push. Natasha became more distracted, her eyes held their secret exhaustion again.

You cherished her when she was there. The first time an additional training session ran through your usual time for dinner, you didn’t let yourself be upset. 

That evening, you heard a knock on your door and knew it was her. Natasha's tired eyes were worried and full of unspoken guilt. You pulled her towards you with a feeling of sudden urgency and happiness that came from the simplicity of seeing her standing there.

You kissed her for a long moment and Natasha met your lips with eager relief. Then, you led her to your sofa, ignoring her protests as you insisted on trying to find enough food in your rarely used kitchen to constitute a meal for her. 

She slept in your bed that night, curled familiarly into the space next to you. You listened to her steady breathing and knew that you loved her in a way that wouldn’t change.

Her missions got longer. Natasha was trusted with more. She saved more lives with each mission and you watched her start to forgive herself for the things she could barely say aloud.

You did your best to accept that Natasha might choose a future that didn’t include you so easily. She was exceptional, in her kindness, bravery and skill. 

You knew Natasha could feel the impending future too. The busier she became with work, the more effort she made to spend every other moment with you.

You felt like a pocket of steadiness in her world of chaos. You knew it was a privilege.

.

You can't always hold onto your home.

.

Natasha was given a long-term undercover mission. When she told you about it, you felt a horrible sinking in your chest. It was a feeling that you’d been anticipating.

You knew what her job meant and you knew her talent at it. 

All you could really think about in that moment was that she’d clearly been crying. Her shaky breathing stuttered as she tried to tell you the news. 

You wondered if you knew her so well, or if she wasn’t trying to hide at all from you anymore.

You hugged her tightly and tried to absolve her of her guilt. 

She was going to miss your next Christmas. 

You kissed her forehead and told her that you loved her. Natasha tangled her fingers with your own. She squeezed your hand tight. She kissed the back of your hand softly.

The next day, you walked her to the airstrip. You felt unnaturally still as you tried to stop your chest from heaving with a loss it could already feel. 

Before she walked onto the jet, Natasha turned around. Her small, awkward wave echoed your own. You watched her braids hit her back as she turned again and walked onto the aircraft.

.

Months passed.

You lived a strange empty life.

You didn’t remember the world before Natasha, you still expected to see her at every mealtime.

Christmas day arrived.

You decorated your small plastic tree with the paper dolls that had hung above your TV for nearly two years. You watched a Christmas movie that was someone else's favourite.

.

On the 26th of December, you got a phone call. It was Clint and it was the middle of the night. You were in your car before he’d finished talking. 

.

Home is the place that you are loved.

.

You found her about a mile from the Shield base, it was just past midnight. 

Natasha was walking along the side of the river with her hood up, bathed in the orange glow of the streetlights. 

She noticed you almost immediately. She came to a stop, eyes wary and shoulders braced.

You gave a small, awkward wave and she remembered herself. 

She moved toward you, pace quick. 

When she reached you, her head pressed desperately against your thick winter jacket. 

You kissed the soft fabric of her green hood and held her tight.

The sound of the river and the shaking of her cries. 

.

Home was in the sound of the river and the shaking of her cries.

[the-oblivious-writer]

Oh the Guilt

Sam Carpenter x Reader

One-shot

Summary: no

Warning(s): major character death and mourning/grief

Notes: Based off of this request: hey! i saw your requests are open (i am indeed busting). i was wondering if you’d do some angst with either sam or tara? maybe sam/tara spending the holidays alone because they falsely accused reader of being gf and pushed them away/broke up w them. but it only ended up putting r in danger and leading to their death? love me some good ol angst if you’re up for it! have a great holiday season :)

The Christmas lights blur through her tears as Sam clutches your photo to her chest, fingers trembling against the worn edges. Her apartment feels too quiet, too empty, the silence broken only by the distant sound of people celebrating that makes everything worse. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

Sam stares at your sweater draped over her couch - the soft blue one you always wore when it got cold, the one that still holds traces of your perfume. She doesn't deserve its comfort, but she pulls it on anyway, drowning in fabric and guilt and memory.

"We’re specimens to you, aren’t we?" Sam's voice had cracked like breaking glass, fear masquerading as anger. "I’m not letting Tara get hurt again!"

You'd reached for her, confusion and hurt painting your features. "Sam, please. You know me. I would never-"

"I thought I knew Richie too," she'd snarled, backing away from your touch. "Get out. Get out!”

The door had slammed with such finality. She'd thought she was protecting herself, protecting everyone. Instead, she'd handed you to them gift-wrapped - alone, vulnerable, perfect prey.

By the time Sam realized her mistake, she was cradling your broken body in the rain, red seeping into puddles around you both. Your fingers had weakly brushed her cheek, still trying to comfort her even then.

"Not your fault," you'd whispered, but those words haunt her worse than any ghostface ever could.

Now Tara brings food she doesn't eat, Kirby tries to coax her out, but Sam remains suspended in amber, preserved in the moment she lost you. Your clothes hang in her closet like ghosts. She wears your sweaters to sleep, buries her face in the fabric and pretends she can still feel your warmth.

The Christmas tree in the corner - the one you'd insisted on buying together - stands half-decorated, just as you'd left it. Tinsel dangles like broken promises. The star you'd picked out remains in its box, because finishing it without you feels like accepting you're gone.

Sam traces the words of your last text message: "I love you. We'll talk soon." Her phone screen has cracked from how many times she's dropped it, hands shaking too hard to hold on.

She knows she should let others in. Knows you'd want her to live, to heal, to forgive herself. But every time Tara hugs her or Kirby offers support, it feels like betraying your memory. Like she doesn't deserve comfort after what she did to you.

Sometimes, in the depths of night when the walls feel like they're closing in, Sam swears she can feel you. A whisper of movement in her peripheral vision, the ghost of your touch against her shoulder, the way the air shifts as if accommodating your presence.

"I see you everywhere," she whispers into the darkness, clutching your sweater like a lifeline. "The coffee mug you chipped is still in the cabinet. Your stupid action movies are still in my queue. I can't… I can't delete them."

The apartment creaks, settling into winter's grip, and Sam lets out a broken laugh. "Remember how you used to say these old buildings had character? God, you'd make up stories about the noises - ghosts having dance parties, you said." Her voice catches. "Is that what you're doing now? Dancing without me?"

Sam reaches out, fingers trembling in the empty air where she imagines you might be. "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. I was so scared of losing everyone that I pushed away the one person who…" She chokes on the words. "The one person who never gave me a reason to doubt them."

The Christmas lights flicker, and for a moment, Sam's heart stops. She's learned to find meaning in these small disturbances, these tiny rebellions against reality. "I know what you'd say. That I need to forgive myself. That I need to let people in." Tears track down her cheeks. "But how can I? How can I when every time I close my eyes, I see you bleeding out in my arms?"

Something shifts in the room - maybe the heating kicking in, maybe something more. The tinsel on the half-decorated tree sways gently. Sam watches it, transfixed. "If you're here… I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry. I should have trusted you. Should have protected you. Should have been there when…"

The star for the tree - your star - sits in its box on the coffee table. As Sam watches through tears, a draft from somewhere catches the lid, lifting it slightly. Her breath hitches.

"You want me to finish it, don't you? The tree?" Her laugh is wet, broken. "Always so stubborn about traditions." She reaches for the star with shaking hands. "I don't know if I can. It feels like accepting you're really…"

The room grows impossibly still, as if the very air is holding its breath. Sam could swear she feels the phantom pressure of your hand over hers, guiding her toward the tree. The sensation is so vivid she gasps.

"Okay," she whispers, standing on unsteady legs. "Okay, baby. For you." She clutches the star to her chest, your sweater hanging loose on her frame. "But I'm not ready to let you go. Not yet. Maybe not ever."

As she reaches up to place the star, the Christmas lights seem to glow a little brighter, and for just a moment, Sam swears she can feel your arms around her waist, your chin on her shoulder, just like before. Just like always.

"Stay with me?" she asks the empty room, knowing the answer, dreading the silence. "Even if I don't deserve it?"

The lights flicker once, twice - like a heartbeat, like a promise - and Sam breaks down sobbing, sliding to the floor beneath your half-finished tree, beneath your star, beneath the weight of a love that even death couldn't quite end.

———

A/N: first request filled, ob-la-di (sorry if this sucks, I’m half-asleep)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Do you have any crack headcannons like you did with Ace with hitting on Jamil?

I have one of Grim knowing how to use a toilet like a person would but not how to open doors. So during book 5. Guys would see Grim using the toilet, in the dark, in the middle of the night if they have to. They see two bright circles in the bathroom until they turn on the light.

[Referencing this post!]

👆 This scene from Puss in Boots 2 except it’s Grim and Yuu—

I have a lot of silly personal headcanons (probably way too many to contain in a post)! Off the top of my head:

A frequent topic among the first years is romance. It's mostly because Ace instigates (usually to brag about how much experience + game he has and how everyone else is a LOSER). Deuce and Epel are flustered, Jack tries to be mature and call out Ace's childish behavior + views, Sebek loudly compares what Ace says to the things he has read in his romance novels + advice from Lilia, and Ortho--shockingly--is the most level-headed and logical of the group. (He'll take one look at Ace's vital signs and declare the guy is actually lying about having rizz.)

(PREFACING THIS ONE WITH THE CONTEXT THAT I WAS SUFFERING REALLY BADLY FROM MONTHLY CRAMPS AND CAME UP WITH THIS TO COMFORT MYSELF) Due to their heightened senses, fae and/or beastmen are able to sense very subtle changes, such as shifts in weather (ie a storm is rolling in) and changes in the body. For example, local feminist king L*ona can somehow sense when "that time" of month is coming and will show up on some poor woman's doorstep a few days before it starts with a plastic bag of [feminine hygiene products], snacks, pain relief medicine, and a heating pad in it. He gives NO explanation, just unceremoniously tosses it on the floor before he turns around and peaces tf out.

Mostro Lounge staff are granted paid lunch breaks, but if they choose to eat from the lounge then they still need to pay for 50% of it. They once tried to unionize, but Azul sent in the twins to shut it down real fast.

Jade and Trey love really bad puns and dad jokes.

The Magic Carpet is Scarabia's unofficial mascot. The mobs generally like it and act like it's the dorm's collective pet dog. Sometimes they drop scraps of food for it from banquets/parties (... D-Does it eat? If so, how...?).

Crewel and Vil heard about the time the Ramshackle Ghosts designed and made Yuu + Grim Halloween costumes. They decided to work with the ghosts to make a fashion line using repurposed old fabrics for a charity fashion show. Proceeds went to an environmental conversation organization.

Lilia hates milk substitutes. He finds them offensive and it breaks his heart to see others ask for the "fake stuff". Insists that those are not "true milk", "It's just nut or grain water!! NUT OR GRAIN WATER!!"

Lilia goes on dating apps just to see who he can bag, then he kicks down the door to the Diasomnia lounge to brag that he’s “still got it”.

Malleus learned about swear words from Leona. (He asked Lilia what a “flying fuck” was because Leona said it in front of him 😭)

Crowley has a 20-step beauty routine. Also sings (terribly) while he engages in self care.

Fellow goes on dates just to scam women of their valuables and/or to leech off their resources for a little while. His ideal targets are lonely wealthy widows and/or lonely wives whose spouses are often busy with work or traveling. Usually ends with him getting smacked by the woman, chased off by an angry spouse, or him pathetically groveling for mercy at their feet.

[blooddrinkingbartender]

"Hardly a work in progress. I'd say you're pretty fantastic," Bill said, with a small smile the creeping onto his mouth, "Okay, maybe we all could do with improvement."

Leofric nodded.

"I will do my best to recover as fast as I can at least," Leofric said. He wasn't planning to overdo things. Of course, there were things to do, but as long as he didn't exert himself too much, he could probably balance recovering and completing the balm, as well as putting work towards other potions, "You have my word there, Veronica."

Travis grinned.

"You'll have to tell me that story sometime, good thing it taught you about fighting in tight spaces with those sorts of guys, and now we're going to use it," Travis said.

Well, if they got the chance to. Russell smiled back at Lucien. He was just glad to be of some use. A bowl of soup was given to Travis, as well as to Leofric and Antonio. Erica also got hers. Russell checked to make sure there was still enough for Rook (when her current treatment was done) and Lucien at the very least.

While Leofric didn't necessarily need to eat. He still felt something within the soup. As though the very generous act of making it and the feelings behind it were somehow inside. It also smelled delicious.

Antonio couldn't help tilt his head just that bit further when he felt his ear being scratched, and his eyes briefly fell shut. He wasn't even thinking about it. That actually felt kind of nice.

But then Bill carefully moved forward, so he could also hold on to Rook and support her while she purged those awful poisons from her system. He gently rubbed at her back too, just like a father might for his sick child.

Leofric knew it would sound and look grim when the elixir was taken, but ultimately, that meant it was working as it should.

"It's all right, Rook," Bill said, "You get that all up and then you're going to be right as rain again."

"It's the struggle of being a work in progress." Rook replied with a slight shrug, "At least wearing shades lets me hide the bags under my eyes. You make sure to take care in the meantime. Both of you. I mean it."

"Don't worry, dear. I'll be around to enforce that." Veronica reassured.

"Sounds good!" Erica grinned, once again a bit too widely for comfort, at Travis' approval. "Thanks! It's a trick I learned while fighting a guy with robo tentacles on his back!"

And before that, while hunting for survivors. That one might have been a bit too morning to bring up, though.

"Let's put it this way. You let me have this and I promise I will not set foot on a stage." Lucien said, before heading off to go serve the soup. He nodded at Russell to quietly thank him for getting some bowls ready while he grabbed the ladle.

Erica's ears perked up and immediately reached to poke one of Antonio's ears, before she proceeded to gently scratch them.

Willow was going to be so jealous.

Veronica waited patiently, figuring it would be pointless to point out to Bill that he could have just offered instructions and rest. "Thank you. Come on, Chick."

"Yeah, yeah..." Rook moved to sit as she was handled the bottle. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. "Really? The solution is stronger Spitfire."

"Fire purifies. Now, drink."

"It better taste the same." It did, which made Rook more willing to try this strange cure. She took a couple more sips, unsure of what to expect while a bit of smoke escaped from the corner of her mouth.

Then it hit and Rook all but threw herself at the bucket just in time before she threw up. Veronica hovered closer to gently pull her hair back while she gasped for air and stared down at the vile black liquid that unfortunately still infested her body even after all this. Unfortunately, they would have to repeat the treatment a few times.

Rook stared at it for a moment, before she fell back, somehow looking even paler than before. "Help..."

[splashdacat]

✫ALNST INCORRECT QUOTES✫

Ivan: I'm sorry. Please talk to me. Till: Ivan: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure? Till: 'Sorry' doesn't bring back my fucking M&Ms.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sua: I'm so happy, I could kiss you! Mizi: Um…Neat. later Mizi, lying face down on their bed: I said "Neat," Till. Who the fuck says neat these days? It's not neat to say neat but I said it anyways because I'm fucking stupid. Till, reading a book: Don't beat yourself up too much, Mizi. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what I did when Ivan confessed their love for me? Mizi: Didn't you thank them? Till: closes the book and looks at the ceiling I fucking thanked them.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sua: I’m the smartest, wisest person in this group. Till: Really? Then why is your hand stuck in a vending machine? Sua: I paid for my Mars Bar, I’m getting my Mars Bar.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊���̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Luka: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Hyuna.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Till: That's ridiculous, Ivan doesn't have a crush on me. Sua: Yes he does. Mizi: Yes he does. Ivan: Yes I do.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hyuna: As a responsible adult- Mizi: chuckles Hyuna: … As a responsible adult—

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ivan: This is Mizi, they’re… not my assistant, some other word. Mizi: I’m their carer. Ivan: Yeah, my carer. They care so I don’t have to.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Till: Would you rather kill Ivan, or— Sua: Yes, kill them. Till: I didn’t say the other thing— Sua: I don’t need to hear it. Ivan: …I’m feeling a little unsafe.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sua: What’s the straightest thing you’ve ever done? Ivan: sighs Ivan: I've gotten killed by a man.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ivan: They called me the B-word. Till: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sua: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Till: What are you in the mood for? Ivan: World domination. Till: That's a bit ambitious. Ivan: You are my world. Till: Aww… Ivan: Till: Ivan: Till: OH.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Till: Do you ever wonder why you're still single? Ivan, eating mayonnaise straight out of the jar with a spoon: Yeah… I mean, I'm perfect! Who wouldn't want to date me? Till, sighing: I can name a few people…

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi: Who do we know that has handcuffs? Ivan: Well Till and I- Till: elbows Ivan Ivan: …wouldn't know.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Sua: Are you okay? Mizi, crying: Yeah, it was just the onions. Sua: Picks up an onion What the fuck did you say to Mizi?

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi: Why is everyone so obsessed with top or bottom? Honestly, I’d just be excited to have a bunk bed. Ivan: Ivan: I'm gonna tell them. Sua: Don't you dare.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi: Self-care is suppressing all your trauma until it comes back and hits you in the face with the force of 7 very large trucks.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi: hiding something in their coat I think we should adopt another kid! Sua: No. Mizi: Why not? Sua: Because when you say “kid”, you mean “cat”, and we already have fifteen of those. Mizi: unzips coat Sixteen.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi: You don't need my blessing to go kiss Ivan. In fact, I was pretty sure you were already kissing Ivan Till: Nope. Mizi: In that case, as the archbishop of Till's fully awakened gaydom, I give you my blessing to immediately leave and rectify that as soon as possible! Go now, my child, and kiss Ivan right on the lips!!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hyuna: When we get back, I'm going to step on you! Luka: Okay, as much as I might enjoy that, Hyuna–

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hyuna, singing: ~Hush, little laptop, don’t you cry.~ Hyuna: ~Momma’s gonna find you some more Wi-Fi.~ Hyuna: ~And if that Wi-Fi doesn’t work…~ Hyuna: ~Momma will destroy the fucking Earth.~

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Hyuna, on the phone: Where are you? Mizi: I told you, I’m at work Hyuna: Swear you’re not at Chuck E Cheese again? skee ball machine alarm goes off in the background

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Congratulations! You've stumbled upon a secret message from me (the programmer of this generator): HEY. YOU! YOU THERE WITH THE FACE! Look at this pigeon.

(This isn't even for alien stage i jut found this)

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi: Wait, if baby oil dissolves condoms, what does it do to babies? Sua: Believe it or not, babies and condoms are made of different materials. Till: It’s like rock paper scissors. Baby oil defeats condom, baby defeats baby oil, condom defeats baby. Ivan: Rock also defeats baby.

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Till: You ever get so tired that you start seeing spiders? Ivan: Me after I take 17 Benadryl and start seeing the hat man. Till: THE WHO? Ivan: Oh is this not a safe space suddenly?

ੈ✩‧₊˚✫✦✧✦✧‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊✦✧✦✧✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

Mizi, watching Till and Ivan fight: Are you sure they should be fighting? What if they get hurt? Sua, not bothered by the chaos: It’s fine. They’re too evenly matched to hurt each other. Mizi: Then… who’s the strongest out of you three? Till: Sua. Ivan: Sua. Sua: Me.

✫ੈ✩‧₊˚-ˏˋ You made it to the end,Yay :) ˊˎ✫ੈ✩‧₊˚

[pumpkinsy0]

Can we get some hcs of Pony spending Christmas with the Shepherds?

no,,,no u cannot,,,

•he was totally pulled along by curly, like w all due respect to the shepards pony never planned on spending any sort of time w them, let alone in CHRISTMAS he didnt even think they rlly celebrated it

•AND IN A WAY HES NOT WRONG!!! the shepards dont rlly celebrate it, angela and curly kinda want to but flip flop between wanting to b a good family and not caring and tim doesnt gaf about it, they would mostly spend their time doing their own thing waiting for the holiday to b over already

•but this christmas is special cause this was one of the rare times they were like “ok fuck it lets do SOMETHING together” so curly wanted pony to experience it w them too!! its only fair curlys been w ponys gang for a christmas pony gotta come along too

•not many places r open for christmas so they went some place to eat for breakfast!! not much pony says here hes rlly just “shepard watching” as he likes to call it, listening to them bicker on and on about something none of them will fill him in on till later

•pony does not spoke unless spoken to when it comes to tim AND angela, curly makes pony say something and puts him right in the spot and hes fumbling his words and hes getting teased HARD

•unless ponys borrowing one of their old jackets, curlys keeping his arm wrapped around ponys shoulders to keep him warm or they just share curlys jacket, tim and angela r fake gagging behind their backs, theyre both single and coping w it i cant blame em

•sometimes when trying to enter a place a mistletoe would b over the entrance and after SHOVING pony and curly inside bc curly wanted to take his sweet time kissing pony to anyone unfortunate to watch, tim and angela made SURE to go in one after the other they werent even gonna try and risk that bs of having someone tell them they gotta kiss, but a few times tim would kiss angelas cheek just to embarrass her (IN A FAMILIAL WAY OBVIOUSLY)

•curly got the bright idea for all of them to split up and go to different stores to steal gifts for each other, gid bless all the stores open around this time on christmas. tim got angela a pretty hairclip thats the most important thing here honestly nothing else matters, bc she always wears it now

•literally all of the minus pony stole a lil secret gift for themselves too, it was too tempting not to, this doesnt add much to the story i just felt like we all needed to hear that

•back at home, curly makes everyone hot chocolate before he has to drop pony back home, its not as decorated w whip cream and marshmallows n what not like darry does, but pony didnt mind it tasted rlly good he cant complain too much

•WOULD pony do that again???? yea sure he doesnt mind it, he wasnt talking much but it was nice seeing a different side of the shepards!! plus curly obviously had the best time and it was the first time in a while where that was the case AND they were both safe, its a nice change of pace

[verynastyspoon]

DAD!SCOUT x FEM!READER PT.1

Summary: A christmas get to together that may be the start of the rest of your life

word count: 781

Authors note: I don’t remember how long after the christmas party was so I just said 7 years and sorry I got bored of the original scour fic but if anyone wants I might go back to it.

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º••º•º•

10 years. Its been 10 years since the last time you saw Jeremy. You live a single life alone, no kids, just a dog but even in your lonely life youre happy. One day you get a letter in the mail from Jeremy Willis. You hastilly rip it open and nearly scream when you read the contents of it.

‘Hey y/k I miss you. I’m having a little Christmas get together with all the team and I would love to have you there.’

You are ecstatic and quickly pack all your things and rush to the airport with your dog. You had been alone for so long just the idea of being with some real friends makes you happier than you could imagine. You have “friends” but they have never fought beside you, almost died for you, and would do anything for you. They aren’t family like they are.

You get to Jeremy’s house on Christmas day. You can hear the boisterous laughter even from the driveway. You rush to the door and knock which you are greeted by a handsome (and very haircut needed) Jeremy.

“Y/K!” He gives you a hug. “Ive missed you so much!”

You hug back and smile warmly. “I missed you too Jeremy.”

You walk in and see kids running about “Wow are these all yours?”

“Hell ya well most of them those few are sollys but the others are mine.”

“Do…you have a wife?” You ask reluctantly because some stupid part of you still has a crush on the same man you haven’t seen in years.

“Pff those dead beats are gone for good. Im raising these beauties all by myself.”

You look in shock and a little relief. “Jeremy thats amazing.”

You all sit down eating and catching up on on eachothers new lives. After a while you find yourself on the floor playing with Jeremys kids. Tanya is running around in spys mask and the others are playing toys with you. Jeremy cant help but fawn over you playing with his kids.

When you look over and see him he looks away embarrassed for staring. You wave him over to come play, but a few moments later the kids leave to go play with your. Leaving you and Jeremy alone.

“You have a beautiful family Jeremy.”

“Thank you, you should come by more often youre great with them.”

“Maybe I will.” there is a long silence between you before Jeremy speaks up.

“You uh got a husband?”

“No and I dont have kids.” you sigh “I just havent found the right person yet.”

“I know what you mean, I got 3 ex wifes.”

You look up “3?! Why?”

“Well the first one cheated, the second one was a bad mom and the third left me for a woman.” He sighs “I just i dont know, I know 3 is alot but I just have so much love to give and no woman to give it too. But now I have my kids and I couldn’t be happier.”

You give him a hug “I love that for you Jeremy.” it stays quiet again for a moment. “You know, all those years ago I had a raging crush on you.”

“Really!?”

“Yes, but I kept it too myself because I knew you liked miss pauling. After you said you would move on I thought about speaking up but I was too scared too…. sometimes I wish I did.”

“I had no idea y/k, I wish you did because well I had a thing for you too.”

You both laugh softly at your obliviousness.

“Would, you ever want to go out to eat or something?” He asks nervously. “I know it’s been so long since we’ve last seen eachother but it feels like you never left.”

“I would love too.” You smile warmly.

“Great! But dont tell my kids I want to bring them around another girl unless I know its gonna work, you know?”

“I completely understand. Having in introduce a third girl to the family sounds like alot.”

“Thanks for understanding.”

The kids run back and jump on Jeremy all yelling ‘DADDY’

“Yes? What’s up?” They all yelled about some shenanigan Misha and Herberts baboon got into, leaving you alone excited for what’s to come

•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º•º••º•º•

[orbweaverspidergirl]

The Four Times You meet Arkham Knight, and the One Time You meet Jason

summary: Your twin brother is dead, and he's not coming back. You know that, but when you see a man who acts just like Jason, you can't help but think of him.

tw: mentions of tranquilization (not on reader), guns, being knocked out, being threatened with a gun (not on reader), mentions of death, very brief mention of blood, reader feeling somewhat suicidal (not outwardly stated).

A/N: This is very angsty and I started crying towards the end of writing this. This is gender neutral! This is part 2 for the Jason Todd Twin Drabbles. Requests are open!

Tim Drake hurt you. He was a replacement for your brother, and yet, he didn’t mean to be. He was just a kid, just like you once were when starting out as Robin. He didn’t have good support, not from home, and especially not from Bruce. So, you became that for him, you took your grief and resentment, and you did your best to let it go. You would always love Jason, and you would always cry over him, but he’s dead, and you can’t change that. 

Once you started coming around for the kid, he was sweet. He rambled and was skittish, but you grew to love the boy called your brother. But he didn’t take the grief away from losing your twin. He never would. So sometimes, you would bring yourself out to a roof. His death would hit you the most after a patrol. Whenever you both finished the night, you would get something to eat. You would celebrate you both winning. You don’t celebrate anymore, so you would cry. You didn’t cry anywhere other than a roof, after a patrol. As a kid, no one saw you cry, only Jason. He was the only one allowed, and you kept it that way. Your mask was off, the green mantle you wore was in your hands, clinging on for dear life in the wind. 

That’s when you heard it over your loud sobs. Banging footsteps clashed on the roof’s surface, and you stood up. Your face drenched in tears and sweat from the fighting before. Before you was a man in a metal suit with the waist cinched in what looked like red camouflage. He wore heavy gear, and you looked up at him. He walked just like Jay did, and for a moment you imagine the random man as him. Tears flow from your eyes once more. 

“I’m, I’m so sorry.” You say, wiping the tears from your eyes. 

You feel him analyzing you, just like Tim does, and just like Bruce did all those years ago. “What for?” His voice is heavily modulated, you realize. It makes you suspicious, and you put your mask back on. 

“You just,” you take a heavy swallow, “You reminded me of my brother.” The words slip out of your mouth before you realize it. You shouldn’t have let that information be known, especially to a man that looks as dangerous as he sounds. 

“I’m sure your brother loves you.” You smile under the mask and let out a breathless laugh. 

“He did. He loved me very much.” You nod towards the man in respect. “Thank you?” You leave it in a question, waiting for his name.

“I’m no one. Not yet anyways.” Then, he’s gone, just like your brother. 

Eventually, you found out who “no one” was, and he was in fact, not a no one. “Arkham Knight” the new big bad of Gotham. Is Gotham the only place villains care to go too?? You sigh, as Batman flies to the bridge while you run, but Arkham Knight wasn’t your focus for right now, it was scarecrow. You see Gordon and his men in the distance, and you come to a stop.

While your father comes to a landing, you go up to the cop. He looks weary, and you could understand why. “Have you heard anything else, or is it still silent?” You ask the man, looking up at the building connected to the bridge. Batman walks behind you, listening on. 

“Nothing. We think there’s a skeleton crew in there, but they're not responding, and the facility is on lockdown.” You and the Bat share a look. 

“Green, I want you in there. Keep your guard up and be careful.” You nod towards your father, and your heart aches a little. He only started saying be careful when Jason died. He didn’t want to lose another kid, and even if you were mad at him for replacing your brother with Tim, you could never hate Bruce. You start a jog to the facility, and you bring out your tranquilizer gun, keeping a steady hold on it. You turn your head when you hear a loud “brr” sound in the distance. A helicopter flies in the air, and you furrow your eyebrows. 

“What the hell...” You mumble, and you turn your gaze to your father and Gordon. You then see the large rockets on the side of the helicopter. “Shit!” You start to run away from the door, but instead of being shot, the area between you and the others are. The helicopter drives up to Batman as he walks up to it. You can barely hear anything, the helicopter wings blocking everything out, but over your comms you gather that same modulated voice saying don’t shoot her. 

You have no time to think over it when the helicopter flies up, and the big doors behind you open. You hear your father yell out your hero's name as two cars with extended guns on the roof point at you. You run out of the way, but once again the guns don’t shoot at you, they only target Batman. You quickly realize the bias, putting two and two together. Whoever this is doesn't want you, they want Batman. You use this chance of distraction to run into the facility. You set out your grappling hook, and it carries you up onto the ‘ACE Chemicals’ sign. 

“Green, are you in?” You hear Bruce speak through the comms. 

“Yes. I’m on the sign. The men below noticed me flying in, but other than that, they can’t find me.” You grapple onto the actual building. You land softly onto the concrete and make your way onto the side. A large drop is there, and you get shivers down your spine. You kick in one of the windows and then jump through. You scan the area, bringing out your tranquilizer gun, but the room is empty. 

“I’m in a room now, there are desks and a large whiteboard with notes, but other than that, it’s nothing important.” 

“Good, I’m making my way in now.”

“Heard.” You open the door, and eye the hallway. You feel eerie, and you worry that it's a trap. You let out a breath and continue walking down the hallway. You make your way downstairs, and it’s still empty. 

“I’m in the building.” 

“I’m on the second to last hallway. It’s empty, no one in sight.” You hear nothing else on the other end, so you continue your descent. It’s like this for a while, until you hear a man struggling behind a door. 

“HELP...! HELPP, PLEASE!” You kick open the door, your gun pointed out in front. You see Arkham Knight pointing a gun towards a man tied up in rope. 

Arkham Knight looks at you, and you shudder. “It’s about time you showed up. I began to worry.” His tone is mocking, and you scowl, putting your finger on the trigger. 

“What the hell are you talking about?!” You yell; confusion clear in your voice. 

He lets out a sardonic laugh. “C’mon baby bird, you really don’t know?” You frown. No one called you that other than Dick or Jay, and for a moment you hope. You hope that this man is really your brother, your Jason. 

“Jay?” You mumble, and you wait. You wait for him to give you a sign that it is him. That this is your brother. He rips off the helmet, and you drop your gun. It’s your brother, your sweet big brother. Your twin. He’s alive. You run to him, disregarding the tied-up man, and you hear Bruce speak over the comms, trying to reach you. You don’t listen to his voice, you only hold Jason tight, crying on his shoulder. 

“Shhh, I know baby bird, I know.” He holds you tight, just like he did when you were kids, and you cry even more. 

“Green! Green, are you with me?” Batman yells over comms. 

“Batman, I think it’s time I take my twin off your hands. I’ll take care of them far better than you ever did anyways.” You lift your head up from his shoulders. 

“Jay, what-” He hits the back of your neck, and your vision goes spotty. The last thing you see is your brother picking you up. 

When you wake up, you’re lying on a bed. You have new clothes on, and your suit is nowhere to be found. When you try to get up, you realize your legs are chained to the bed. You struggle against the chains, feeling betrayed by your brother. Not only that, but you feel wronged. Why would he do this? Why would he try to kill Bruce? Why would he kill innocent people? What happened to your brother? Why is he acting this way?

 “JASON!” You yell, anger clear in your voice. Immediately, the door swings open, and your twin brother walks in. He’s out of his suit, and you admire his new features even in your anger. He has a streak of white hair, and a J gouged in his cheek. He looks over at you, as he sits on the end of the bed. You scowl, “Jason, what the hell is this?” You lift up both your legs. 

He looks down at the chains, and smirks boyishly. It reminds you of when you were younger, and you turn your face away. This isn’t teenage boy Jay, this is Arkham Knight, and he certainly is not your brother. You feel stupid. You feel incredibly stupid for falling in his trap. He used your grief to make you weak, and it worked. You almost feel proud; he was always smarter than you. 

He reaches out to you, touching your face. “I missed you.” His voice is earnest, and that hurts you even more, because you know he means it. 

“Stop this, Jason. Please. Stop this.” You plead, you don’t know what for. Maybe you want him to stop trying to kill Bruce, maybe you want him to stop touching you, or maybe you want him to stop pretending. You don’t know, and that hurts you all the more. 

“No. I won’t stop. He let me die, Bruce fucking left me to die!” He yells, and you flinch back, crying. “Do you know how long I waited?! How long I wished for Batman to save me, to have my partner save me!” 

“We tried!” You scream back, tears flooding from your eyes. “We tried Jason. We searched for you for days, and we couldn’t find you.” You break down crying, and you hug yourself. “I never stopped. I didn’t believe anyone when they said you were dead, not until I saw what Joker sent, and even then. I never stopped.” He wraps his arms around you, holding you to his chest. 

“I’m sorry...” His voice cracks, “Please don’t cry. You know I hate it when you cry.” And he did. He hated when you cried, so he would hold you. He would hold you, just like this. “I promise, I’ll make it better.” He whispers, and then he kisses your forehead. You see him get off the bed and walk out of the room. 

You don’t react, but you can’t help but feel the same when he died. You couldn’t do anything now, and you couldn’t do anything then. 

It takes you a day to break off the chains. Your fingers feel numb and bloody from holding them tight, and kicking them against the bed frame, but it works, and they break. You get the bed frame and shove it against the door. You know there’s cameras in the room, but you pay it no mind. By the time his goons get here, you’ll already be gone. 

You walk over the only window in the room. It’s large enough to get through, but the only problem is you have no gear to jump off with. The drop is far too high to not get hurt in some way, and so you rip the sheets off the bed. You hear banging on the door, and you sigh. You got too cocky and didn’t think it through that you needed a fucking way out of the window. 

You look out the window once more, and you feel tired. You feel like giving up. If you jump out of this window now, there’s a chance you’ll survive, and a higher chance you won’t. They’ve busted open the door, and in the distance, you see Arkham Knight first and foremost behind his men. Your heart breaks as your brother yells out your name, your real name, but you jump.

And you live. 

The world is white, and you advert your eyes from the searing color. You feel pain all across your body, and that’s how you know you survived. You hear a machine, and you realize it’s a heart monitor. You're on a white bed, with a blue gown on, and you sit up. You smile when you see Tim and Barbara. They both have fallen asleep leaning on each other. Behind the glass window, connected to the hallway, you see your dad and Jason talking. 

They haven’t noticed you yet, and you wish to keep it that way. Tim’s eyes start to flutter, and once he realizes you're up, he jumps out of the chair. “You’re awake!” He yells, wrapping his arms around you. 

You laugh, and you hug him back. “Hey Timmy, how are you?” He rolls his eyes and sits on the bed with you. 

“How am I? How are you? You almost died! Do you know how worried we all were?” You feel guilty, so you squeeze his shoulder. 

“I know and I’m sorry. But I’m here now, and so are you.” You hear Barbara roll her chair towards the bed. 

“That you are. We were worried sick.” She says, and you almost want to cry again. 

“I know.” You hug her, and she hugs you back.

“We missed you. I missed you.” She whispers in your ear, and you press a kiss to her head. You glance out the window, looking at the two men. 

“What’s up with that?” You ask. Barbara just sighs, and Tim looks away nervously. 

“Jason is... Back. However, him and Bruce have been going at it for days. Maybe they’ll stop once they realize you’re awake but...” She shrugs. You look at Jason, and he finally notices you. He starts to walk in the room with Bruce following right behind him. 

“Where’s Dick?” You ask. 

“He’s on his way.” Bruce says, then he goes to hug you, covering your whole body. You hug him back, squeezing the man. 

“How you feeling, old man?” Your tone is teasing, and he sighs. 

“Tired of being berated by my own kids.” You smirk and pat his shoulders. Then, you look at Jason, and without hesitation, you jump into his arms. He catches you; he always does. 

“I missed you,” you whisper, holding him tight. 

“I know baby bird, I know. I’m back, and I won’t be going anywhere else.”

[theressaicon]

m!Zombie x gn!reader part 2

„Every time you try to say something, it sounds like you're about to throw up."

„Ugh rghh..."

„That's exactly what I'm talking about."

∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×

Despite the terrible cold outside, you wanted to spend time with your "neighbor." He was a good companion. He didn't talk much, but at least he tried.

Of course, there was the option of letting him in your hut, but you still exercised caution. You wanted to be safe... Yet you had no idea how safe you were.

Every night, Yellow would guard your hut like a dog. When he smelled someone with his super sense of smell, he would immediately go after them.

His attacks were easy to be heard. The screams of pain and aggression could be heard a mile away. It most often happened at night. Sometimes you wondered what his profession was before he died. Or was it just instinct? It was hard to say, but when the noise stopped, you knew you were safe again.

Every morning was almost the same. You always exchanged glances with each other. Now you even started to wish him good morning in words. Did he like that? Yes. Did you know how much he appreciated it? No.

You went to greet Mr. Yellow this morning. You ate some old biscuit for breakfast. „Good morning, Mr. Yellow. We've got a lovely day, don't we?" you greeted him. You meant it ironically. It was cloudy as always. The terrible cold gripped your bones and muscles, yet you smiled warmly at Yellow.

He gave you a nod in return. You both stood in silence, each on one side of the fence. Yellow made an exception today; he wasn't looking directly at you, but at the biscuit you were holding in your hand. Of course you noticed this change.

„You wanna taste?" you asked, slowly offering him the biscuit. He was very intelligent, for a zombie, he didn't want to scare you, so he set the slowest pace he could so you wouldn't be scared.

He slipped his fingers through the fence and carefully took the biscuit. Even though you were cold, he felt the warmth of your circulating blood even without touching you. You were fascinated by his caution, he was so gentle. You were impressed.

Yellow examined the biscuit for a moment, then put it in his mouth and began to chew. Then he grimaced and tried to spit it out. He clearly didn't like your breakfast at all. It made you laugh out loud... However you weren't laughing at him, he just awakened new feelings in you that you hadn't felt in a very long time. He was literally falling apart on the outside, but... his behavior... he was so cute. You stopped being too afraid of him.

„I wonder what you eat." you started. "I haven't seen you eat yet. Except for your attempt at my breakfast today." you gave him another warm smile. „DO you even eat? Like- at all?" Yellow quietly made a few sounds: „Egh.. oogh." „Uh-huh, alright." Then he put his forehead on the fence and started again. „Ihg... gouh!" You remained silent, looking at his trembling lips. „I.. gho!" And then it hit you. „Wait.. are saying 'I do'?" and he nods.

You took a few steps back and put your hand over your mouth in shock. „YOU TALK!"

Yellow only blinked a few times. Every time he made a sound, he was trying to talk to you, but you didn't understand him. On the other hand he was glad that you finally noticed. Although you had been taking it as a one-side communication the whole time, which is why you were so surprised that Yellow understood you.

∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×∗×

You started paying much more attention when Yellow "spoke" to you. You were patient with him, which he greatly appreciated. He was aware that it was difficult to understand when he spoke. But he was ghoulish and liked to take advantage of it.

For example:

When you were spending time together at the fence, or when you were doing something at your hut, he would calmly announce something like:

„Yurgh pfrrg-tuh." (You're pretty) Meanwhile you were like „Huh? What was that?" Then he'd bashfully pretend he didn't say anything.

His responses to your questions were starting to improve. He was nodding, shaking his head, and you could see in his eyes that he was thinking about the ways of answering. He sometimes tried to lie, but he was too transparent.

"Have you ever considered... biting me?" You asked, teasingly. Even though he shook his head, you knew he wasn’t telling the truth. Whenever he lied, his eyebrows were lower and closer together. The corners of his lips were pulled apart and his eyes looked almost scared. He could insist on his answers as much as he wanted, but you always saw through him.

It was this truth that Yellow was ashamed of. Yes, you would have been wonderful as prey, but despite his terrible hunger, he preferred to spend time with you. He couldn't bear the thought of anything happening to you. He hated the thought of him hurting you.

You asked him this question one evening. He was sitting with you by the fire, even though he was still on the other side of the fence.

You laughed for a moment at his attempt at a lie, but it didn't last long. His lying eyes shifted to honest ones, he looked at you like if he was looking at a holy image.

Carefully and slowly, he slipped his cold hand through the fence and showed you his opened hand. You were stunned, not knowing what to do at first. You trusted him and decided to place your hand in his palm.

Despite your first touch, Yellow didn't stop looking into your eyes. He loved your warmth, he loved your eyes, he loved... you.

He held your hand as if it was made out of glass. He rested his head against the fence and hummed contentedly. His own half-dead skin began to warm from your touch. For the first time since he became a zombie, he felt like he wanted to sleep.

You were already starting to think of an excuse to invite him closer to you, behind the fence. For so long you had tried to keep both the healthy and the infected apart, and now you would rather let one of them in as close as possible. It wasn't even a question of safety now, you liked Yellow just the way he was. You wouldn't change a thing about him, except for a little less mold and rotting flesh.

[apomaro-mellow]

Two in the Bush 8

Part 7

Steve’s wardrobe options had gotten more limited as his belly grew, but he tried not to feel some type of way about it. He was still able to dress in a nice shirt and pants and not look too out of place when they brought him to the restaurant. An upscale kind of place that made him wonder how they’d found this place.

“Some guy I know works here”, Billy said as they were taken to their table.

“And he admits that to other people?”, Eddie gasped.

“Watch it, Munson. I’m trying to be nice.”

Steve smiled. He had to admit, just a few months ago, Billy would’ve just decked Eddie and be done with it, ruining the mood and their night. The fact that the three of them were even doing something like this. A date was different than just going out to eat. This was both Eddie and Billy showing their intentions with Steve, and thus their intentions with his pup.

Conversation flowed easily between the three of them, it always did. Eddie was naturally talkative, as was Steve. Billy was less so, but he surprised Steve with what he said sometimes. It made Steve realize he was a good listener.

“So about that one guy…”, Eddie started as their appetizers were replaced with their entrees.

“The alpha redhead or the blonde beta?”, Steve asked.

“Redhead”, Eddie answered.

“You mean Manfred?”, Billy asked.

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Manfred! Yeah! He came in again, trying to micromanage and shit.”

“Isn’t that the same guy who couldn’t tell he was driving on bald tires? And he couldn’t remember which mother gave birth to which kid?”

“The very same! Tires bald as hell and shuffling around like he knows shit.”

“Speaking of kids”, Billy said as he looked to Steve. “You thought of names yet?”

“I’ve thought of several. But I’m not really gonna know until I’m holding them in my arms.” Steve smiled, bringing a hand down to his bump. “I did decide on the names you guys are involved in.”

“Oh?”, Eddie leaned in, intrigued.

Steve nodded, smiling at him. “Whoever the real sire is, the baby will get their last name.” Then he looked at Billy. “And whoever isn’t the father, will get to give them a middle name.”

Billy blinked in surprise. “You’d do that?”

“It only seems fair”, Steve said, looking at the both of them. “Only one of you is the father by blood but you’ve both taken care of me and this pup.”

They went with Steve to doctor appointments whenever they could. They helped him modify his diet, even foregoing some things just so Steve didn’t get jealous. They had massaged his back and feet to relieve aches. Steve had been prepared to do this with just himself and Robin. But with two extra hands, the load was much lighter.

Steve found himself staring at them both more and more. He knew he was lucky, so incredibly lucky. To have not just one but two alphas vying for his hand and fatherhood of his pup. There were plenty of alphas who turned tail at the first mention of the word ‘baby’. Eddie and Billy had not only NOT turned away. They ran at Steve in full force. After dessert, Steve watched them split the bill and then they were on their way home.

He was feeling satisfied in a way he hadn’t in a while. And he didn’t miss the way their gazes lingered on him. Steve wasn’t completely surprised that guys had stopped coming up to him in public. A prominent belly didn’t do much for his dating prospects. And he had gained weight in other places as well. He told himself he was still a catch and that after having the baby he could get right back out there. But sometimes when he looked in the mirror, it was harder to convince himself of that.

The way Billy and Eddie looked at him though, were looking at him right now, it was the same way they always did. It carried the same heat, the same desire. There was a small voice in the back of his head. The one that tried to keep him from making bad decisions. But as they got back home and started towards the stairs, it got quieter and quieter. Steve had forgotten why this was a bad idea in the first place.

Before the other two could part ways to go to their respective rooms, Steve cleared his throat, making them pause. Steve stood at the door of his own room.

“Do you two…wanna come in?”

They entered wordlessly, Billy on him in seconds, lips on his and hands in his hair as Eddie closed the bedroom door. Then Steve felt a warmth at his back that could only be Eddie.

“You sure about this?”, he whispered as he kissed his ear.

Steve broke away from Billy’s mouth to nod. “I’m sure. I know it.”

“What about Robin?”, Billy asked, already unbuttoning Steve’s shirt.

“She’s out. Won’t be back until morning.” She’d told him as much when Steve told her about this date. And at the time, he had assured her there was no need. But she’d given him a look, full of meaning. She knew him better than he knew himself. 

“Then we’ve got all night”, Billy grinned, showing his teeth.

Eddie brought his own teeth out, nipping at Steve’s ear and the back of his neck. He was surrounded on all sides but he didn’t feel caged in. No, he felt embraced. One hand went to Billy’s jaw while the other reached behind, bringing Eddie’s arm around him. As the fell together into bed, a different voice became louder and louder in Steve’s mind.

A voice that said this was the best idea he ever had.

[brainrotcharacters]

yapping about the movie isn't enough. i need to write two novelizations one for each of their povs.

[puppetmaster13u]

You know what I need? I need a scene, either alone or in a group, of like, a hero or someone talkin to someone. For example Superman and Batman talkin, everything normal right?

And then I need it to switch to the pov of an outsider and they just have the thickest accents in the world. Somehow speaking the same language and understanding each other while the civilian is just ????

[icewindandboringhorror]

finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

[mysterious-corpse]

so fucking upset. i looked up what's considered concerning weight loss and got a statistic. i looked up the same question but specified teens and i got a bunch of articles about how to lose weight. what the fuck

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/769063810095087616/im-curious-about-your-thoughts-on-something-i?source=share

Okay this whole post just blew my mind

Ahaha, I hope in a good way!

[gilgil-machine]

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