#funnier if someone tries to hit on someone from the gang

[bonesblackheadrotten]

imagine walking down the street when a group of hot people catch your eye. two of them are obviously married. you look at the remaining six. you have no chance at all. you walk pass.

[therealvinelle]

Ok I'm embarrassed to admit this, but I'm just now copying your Norwegian Bella AU into a text translator, and if you don't already have 50 people in your inbox demanding a translation then shame on ALL OF US because this is glorious! And while Google Translate does have a certain charm (it translated "piper hun ut" as "she beeps") I'm curious to see how you'd put it in English.

Troquantary is referring to this post. In which Bella doesn't speak English.

Fun fact, you're the only one who's gone into my inbox to request this. I was so sad, had the translation half-written and everything, but I was too proud to beg. So thank you, Troquantary, for popping this ask.

As for the dictionary fuckups, sounds about right. I made a few typos, too, that made Google Translate suffer even more. (Such as managing to mix up "henne" (her) and "hendene" (hands), resulting in Aro patting Bella instead of clapping his hands. Poor Google.)

Also, there are a few cultural references and language things that would be lost in the translation, in an attempt to keep them I included notes clarifying things.

Some things, like Aro and Carlisle's very old man way of speaking, are easier said than done to translate, you'll have to bear with me there.

Additional notes are that I added a few things to this version, many of them because translating is hard, but a few because while translating I thought "oh you know what would be much funnier-" and then wrote that.

Alright, without further ado:

When Renée left Charlie she did not go to Florida, she went to Oslo. And she went all in to make her daughter a true Norwegian, hiring Norwegian nannies and making sure never to speak English around the child. Since transatlantic flights are expensive, little Bella Swan rarely got to visit her father, and as such she never did learn what should have been her native language.

She quickly forgot what English she did have in favor of Norwegian, with the exception of words like “Yes”, “No”, and “I’m Bella”.

The few trips she took to visit her father were all the more awkward than in canon since she couldn’t play with the Black kids. Let not the blame fall upon Charlie: he took Norwegian classes and speaks conversational Norwegian. He can’t speak to Renée, because her Norwenglish is incomprehensible even to Norwegians, but he can communicate with Bella.

Not that he’s had a lot of chances to do so.

Bella makes it to seventeen years old, she’s in second grade at Handels* and is a major outsider among the preps there, and then Renée marries a handsome skier**. Together they shall travel the continent all winter to participate in as many skiing races as they can, and in the summer they’ll take gigs at Hurtigruta to see the coast.

*“Handels” is the nickname for an Oslo high school infamous for its pupils being rich and beautiful blonds who are going to be CEOs when they grow up.

**Skiing as a sport is huge in Norway

***Hurtigruta is a famous ferry that travels across the Norwegian West coast

Bella, who sucks at skiing and is too young to work at Hurtigruten, takes the hint.

With dread in her stomach and dictionary in hand she goes to her father in America.

Where she doesn’t speak the language.

Faen.

Charlie gives her a car, and I wish this meta was set in the present because I could have joked about electric cars and the automat only driver’s license*, but Twilight is set in 2005 so I can’t. The car part proceeds without drama.

*An increasing number of Norwegian youth take the driver’s license for automatic cars only, and we’re the country in the world with the highest percentage of electric car purchases.

School is worse than in canon, because she is now a thousand times more sensational than if she was merely the new student. She is from another country! All of Forks keels over with excitement.

To make matters even worse, our girl doesn’t understand a word of what people are saying.

She is too awkward to let them know she doesn’t know English. It’d become a thing, and they might think she’s dumb. To be fair, it’s not good that she’s been through primary, secondary, and now a year and a half of high school and still sucks at English.

So she nods, smiles, mumbles “Hi, I’m Bella” to the new faces, and blushes heavily when anybody says anything.

People assume she’s shy. That’s a bit boring, but oh well.

She has her biology class with the redhead hottie she noticed during lunch. She watched him and his family, they were fascinatingly pretty, but she doesn’t know anything more about them. Sure would have been great if she could have asked the tiny girl (was it Jess?) about them.

Biology proceeds as in canon - Edward badly wants to eat the delicious girl, but fortunately doesn’t.

She runs into him in the office when he tries to switch to another biology lesson, but she has no idea what he’s saying so she only has the suspicion that this somehow concerns her. Which is still uncomfortable, but Bella is probably the problem here. The hottie surely can’t be.

He’s missing from school for a week, Bella finds that weird.

He returns, and to her great horror he starts talking to her.

“Hello”, he says.

Bella dies inside. He’s too handsome!

"I'm Edward Cullen," he continues, and ok, she got that. The hottie is called Edward, that’s good to know. She’s not sure she caught that last name, though, Köln?

He says something else, it’s gibberish to Bella even though she’s concentrating, and at the end there he says “Bella Swan”.

She gulps.

"I'm Bella Swan," she confirms and nods. That should be correct. God, she hopes it’s correct.

He smiles a crooked, boyish smile. She’s awed. She didn’t think it was possible to be so beautiful.

He says something else.

Bella didn’t catch it.

She blushes even harder, she hasn’t been more embarrassed in her life. Here he is, the most handsome guy in all the world, and she has nothing to say to him. Literally, they don’t speak the same language.

She should tell him.

It’s one thing to chicken out of telling the town she doesn’t speak English, but there’s something different about Edward Cullen. He deserves the truth.

But...

He’s the most beautiful person she has seen in her life. He is American, too, so the odds of him knowing Norwegian are microscopical. If he finds out she doesn’t understand a word he says he’ll stop talking to her, and selfish as she is she doesn’t want that.

So with a slightly guilty conscience (but not enough to fess up) she contributes to the conversation with enough words and smiles to pull through. "Yes", "No", "Thank you", and "That's nice".

He is surprised by several of these answers, but instead of giving her odd looks and losing interest he grows more invested in the conversation.

Class ends.

The next day the near accident happens, and he saves her. She is stunned - dear god, did he just pick up a whole car? After teleporting across the parking lot..?

Soon she’s in the ER, and more than a little bit stressed about that fact since she knows the Americans have a terrible healthcare system.

She hopes Charlie has an insurance.

An insanely beautiful man walks into the ER, and Bella is shocked. He is just as handsome as Edward and Edward’s lunch friends!

He introduces himself as Carlisle Cullen, and Bella can only assume this is someone’s older brother. Possibly related to the blonde girl.

He smiles at her, says something, and she answers, "I'm Bella Swan."

He frowns.

That must have been the wrong answer, then.

His hands return to investigating her scalp, and to her great surprise he switches to perfect Norwegian, "kjenner De* noe ubehag når jeg holder her?" Do you feel any discomfort when I touch here?

*De is the Norwegian polite pronoun for “you”. Du = thou = the French tu, and De = you = the French vous. These polite pronouns went out of use in the 1980’s, save for when addressing royal persons, and would be considered antiquated in 2005.

He hurries to add, "Norsk lærte jeg i... fjor sommer. Det var et nettkurs." I learned Norwegian… last year. Online class.

"Hvilket da?" Which one? Bella asks, because Charlie needs to hear about this. The doctor has beautiful, if slightly outdated, pronunciation.

The doctor’s smile turns uncertain. She gets the feeling there’s something he doesn’t want to say. "Husker ikke," I don’t remember, sier han etter en litt vel lang pause.

That’s a shame. And weird.

"De hadde hellet med Dem i dag, som ikke ble truffet av den bilen." You were lucky today, not getting hit by that car. he then says, noticeably changing the subject.

"Det var ikke hell, det var Edward," It wasn’t luck, it was Edward, she replies sharply.

The doctor definitely looks uncomfortable.

She continues, "Han krysset skolegården på et blunk, og plukket opp hele bilen. Jeg så det," He crossed the schoolyard in a moment, and picked up the whole car. I saw it,

The doctor laughs. "Om han kunne det hadde nok gymkarakteren hans vært meget bedre. Nei, frøken Swan*, jeg beklager å si at det høres ut som at De er litt omtåket. Det er helt normalt ved hjernerystelse." If he could do that, his PE grade would be a lot better. No, Miss Swan, I’m sorry to say you seem confused. That’s normal with concussions.

*Addressing a young woman as “frøken” is even more outdated than using polite pronouns.

Why does Bella get the feeling he’s lying?

She’s discharged.

We’ll jump ahead to her trip to La Push - that trip uneventful, since Jacob knows she doesn’t speak English. They stick their hands in their pockets and stare at the sea.

The next day she’s shanghaied to Port Angeles, because apparently she said “Yes” at the wrong time when talking to Jessica (Turns out Jess’s name was Jessica!) and accidentally said yes to a day trip to Port Angeles.

Like in canon she wanders away from the others, and as in canon she is nearly gang raped. And again as in canon she is saved at the last moment by Edward.

He buys her dinner, and she can’t believe her own luck- and misfortune. A date with the most handsome guy on the planet (hence the luck) and she can’t say a word to him (hence the misfortune)!

He says things to her, lends her his jacket, and really this is it for Bella, she’s peaked, life can’t get better than this.

(That’s a lie, it would be better if she spoke English.)

He’s so amazing.

She’s gotten pretty good at navigating conversations with him, so she nods and aha’s her way through.

In his car on the way home the tone takes a more serious turn.

He asks her about something, and it’s a serious question, that much she’s gathered. She answers in the confirmative.

He is silent.

Did she say anything wrong?

(Edward, on his end, just asked if she knows what he is. She said yes, so calmly, not even a trace of fear in her.)

A few days later he takes her out on a walk in the woods.

He shows her a meadow in the woods, and when he steps into it he lights up in the sunlight.

Bella is in shock.

She knew there was something different about him, but- holy cow. This guy isn’t human.

Is she dating a god?

She stumbles into the clearing after him, and they spend a day together where he says things, and she can barely hear any of it (nevermind understand it) because she’s so distracted by how pretty he is.

The next day he takes her to a house in the middle of nowhere. She doesn’t want to guess that this can be where he lives. Surely gods don’t live in houses?

He shows her inside the house, and introduces her for Dr. Cullen and a lady with a name she doesn’t catch.

Bit weird that these two are acting like a couple of parents, they’re far too young and divine for that.

Edward shows her around in an old-fashioned office, and she doesn’t know what to make of i when she sees a painting of Carlisle. Edward launches into a long story when he sees her watching it, unfortunately she doesn’t catch any dates or artist names. At one point she heard the word “suicide”, though, and that’s not good.

She doesn’t get much out of the story.

The baseball game doesn’t happen because Bella didn’t pick up on what Edward wanted and didn’t realize she was being invited to a thing. They spend the afternoon watching a movie instead.

The relationship continues, impeded slightly by communication problems, but she’s mostly able to cover those up.

Until her birthday comes around.

She gets a papercut.

Jasper lunges at her. Edward throws her into a glass table, and then everyone is leaving.

Carlisle is kind enough to switch to Norwegian when he’s stitching up her arm, perhaps remembering the last time she was his patient. "Jasper har ikke vært på dietten vår så veldig lenge." Jasper hasn’t been on our diet for very long.

"Diett?"she asks. She’s never seen Edward eat anything. She wasn’t clear on what the Cullens ate, honestly she thought they were above such things. She was thinking maybe photosynthesis. The knowledge that they apparently eat food astounds her, but diets?

"Dyreblod istedenfor menneskeblod," Animal blood in stead of human blood, Carlisle clarifies.

Whachasay?

Carlisle gives a slight smile. “Jaspers liv som vampyr fikk en brutal start." Jasper’s life as a vampire got off to a brutal start.

...

Vampire?!

Bella’s missed something here.

Oh dear lord, oh fy faen, she has missed something.

“Åja”, uh huh, is all she can say, and suddenly she’s very aware of the fact that she’s sitting there with a bleeding arm.

And Carlisle.

Who is a vampire.

Over the course of the following conversation Bella makes a host of discoveries.

Edward has been a vampire this whole time, and he’s a telepathic vampire. Whether Bella should be a vampire too or not has been a matter of hot debate, but due to religious reasons Edward doesn’t want that.

Carlisle also brings up how Edward died of the Spanish flu.

"Jeg var under den oppfatning at Edward fortalte deg bakhistorien min?" I was under the impression Edward told you my back story? Carlisle asks at one point, and Bella just has to ask very nicely if he’d be so kind as to repeat it.

Turns out the guy is nearly four hundred years old.

Jaha.

Jahahaha jaa ha.

That’s… a lot.

She wanders out of the house in shock, and hardly notices Edward’s strange behavior over the next couple of days.

One day he picks her up at school, and takes her behind the house.

That works out.

He’s a vampire, but he never hurt her. He is endlessly beautiful, perhaps easier to love now that she knows he’s not a god. He’s her Edward, and that’s suddenly easier now that she knows.

They can still be together.

But now that she knows this about him, it’s about time he knows something about her as well.

It’s time to finally be honest with him.

So when he opens his mouth, she opens her mouth as well, but she doesn’t get any further than to “Edward-” before he launches into a monologue.

She’ll have to wait until he’s done before saying her piece. It’s a bit embarrassing, but it doesn’t seem like he intends to stop talking anyway.

And what he’s saying seems to be serious, so it’s probably best to let him finish.

Edward concludes his monologue by kissing her forehead. Then he disappears.

Where did he go?

A big unsure, Bella goes back to the house. She’ll just have to wait until he gets back.

She doesn’t know what to think when Charlie returns from work and tells her the Cullens have all left.

Oh, god.

Edward must have found out she doesn’t speak English.

She made a mockery of him.

He has every right to leave.

Knowing this doesn’t make it any easier to live with.

Bella sinks into a depression.

The hallucinations begin, as in canon, though Hallusinward speaks Norwegian. Thank god for small mercies.

The friendship with Jacob (dictionary in hand) blooms, as someone has to help her see those hallucinations.

The cliff diving happens, and Alice shows up. Bella’s not sure what this is about, but she has gotten good enough at English to know that something bad happened, and Alice wants them to do something.

She’s a bit surprised to find herself on a plane to Italy, though.

Alice tells her to “Run to Edward” and ok, she got that, actually.

So she saves Edward.

After that she’s taken into the sewer, which turns out to house dozens of vampires.

Bella, Edward, and Alice are received in some kind of hall, where an unusual vampire has quite a bit to say. She understands some of what he’s saying, at least the part about “la tua cantante”. She knows a bit about Italian, see, so she knows that he’s talking about a song now.

She wishes she knew the context.

At one point he takes her hand, and appears fascinated by it. She wonders if he’s a palmreader. Not very vampirey, but what does she know.

He asks her a question.

"Yes," she says.

Saying yes has gotten her this far, after all.

But when he lights up and claps his hands together, and Edward and Alice stare at her in shock and betrayal, she knows she must have said the wrong thing.

The two are dismissed from the room before Bella can do or say anything, she’s just listening to Edward make a racket outside in the hallway.

Not good.

The unusual vampire brings her further down in his sewer palace to a basement, and she is given comfortable clothes to wear.

This is getting terrifying.

The vampire leans towards her - and she chickens out.

"Jeg snakker ikke engelsk!" she squeaks. "Non habla ingles!" I don’t speak English.

Han stanser, og ser forvirret ut. "Que- Hva behager*?" I beg your pardon? spør han etter et øyeblikk.

*A very formal, and slightly outdated (you can use it, but people will think you’re putting on airs. And they will be right) way of saying “excuse me?”

Sobbing, Bella tells him the whole story, from how she didn’t want to be the weird kid in school to how she’s now somehow in Italy without knowing why nor what she just agreed to.

When she’s done the vampire starts laughing.

"Dette forklarer jo en hel del," This explains quite a bit, ler han. "Men, kjære Bella, jeg er redd det ikke endrer noe." But, my dear Bella, I’m afraid it changes nothing.

He tells her that she has agreed to serve him and his army of undead warriors into eternity.

Well fuck.

"Du skal få slippe det, når du ikke visste hva du samtykket til - men skjebnen din forblir den samme. Loven er loven." You’re released from that promise, as you didn’t know what you agreed to - but your fate remains the same. The law is the law.

After a moment of silence, during which she looks terrified, he hurries to add, "Vi har en lov. Du må bli en av oss." We have a law. You must become one of us.

A law that Bella Swan has to become a vampire?

People are finally speaking Norwegian, and Bella is still lost. And it’s too embarrassing to keep pestering this poor, polite man with questions.

So she nods.

He gives her a glittering smile, and bites her.

When she wakes, Aro offers her an English course. A language course that, naturally, leads to her staying in Volterra. Why not learn a few more languages while we’re at it, dearest Bella?

Some time later Edward breaks into Volterra to save his Rapunzel, only to barely recognize her now that she’s a vampire who says things. Lots of things, she talks all the time now. WHAT DID ARO DO TO HER.

Too mortified to admit that she never spoke English, Bella claims she’s been brainwashed.

Aro is having too much fun to correct her, and the whole sad affair sets off a regrettable flood of rumors.

[zannadu]

Now nobody asked for this but I’m going to do it anyway.

Includes: Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, Denki Kaminari, Hanta Sero, and Mina Ashido

Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, mentions of oral sex, kissing, and just dumb funny shit

MHA as Stoners

Katsuki Bakugou

It varies how fast he gets high, but his favorite way to smoke is with a simple joint

Okay this man will refuse to do any at first

But eventually will give in after the rest of the Bakusquad convinces him

(Though he will say “whatever I’ll do it”)

After the first smoke sesh with the squad he began to enjoy it more so he now does it more often.

If you are with him, he will either have a hard time being around her or will want to be next to you the whole time.

If you hold him he will act nonchalant but inside he will be exploding (no pun intended)

He will do his best to cuddle without making you uncomfortable.

He will get the munchies bad and insist you come with him to get more snacks every thirty minutes

He is much more open with his feelings and willing to talk more without yelling

He calms down a lot

He will show much more affection to you around people than he normally does.

Cuddling, kissing, squeezing, biting the whole PDA shabang.

He will not give two shits what everyone else thinks.

And when he finally has you alone, that’s when it gets a little hot and heavy. 👀

And he doesn’t even mean to.

Not that you’re complaining. ✌️

—————————————

Katsuki’s hands snaked their way around your waist and his face found a home in the crook of your neck.

“You know, if you want to cuddle, you could just say so,” you stated, resting your hand on his locked arms. He let out a soft groan against your skin. His breathing was slow and his eyes foggy. He squeezed you tighter and moved his hands to intertwine them with yours. His heavy eyes looked up and around the room meeting with everyone else’s eyes.

“You're touchy tonight,” Sero snickered, taking another hit off the joint that currently sat, squished in between his fingers.

Katsuki did nothing but roll his eyes and squeezed your fingers. He placed his mouth closer to your ear, his breath just tickling your ear lobe. Suddenly his teeth began to nibble on your ear, sending shivers down your arms, evident with the goosebumps now arise on your delicate skin.

“What do you say that we go to my room, I want you, ” his voice was low and husky. His fingers released from yours and fiddled the hem of your clothing and caressed your soft skin. His teeth began to but harder, causing you to gasp. He then continued to nibble slowly moving to your neck. How could you say no?

Eijiro Kirishima

It doesn't take very much to get him high so his favorite way to smoke is with a dab pen

Now usually this baby boy is sweet and manly

But when he's been smoking he gets VERY hungry

Like he will eat the entire kitchen.

He will space out a lot but will still listen to you if you're trying to talk to him

(or he will try to)

“Wait, what did you say?”

He isn't afraid of PDA either however he will wait till he's in private with you.

(as he should, he's respectful)

You might need to help him to his room

And try not to let him hug you until you're in bed because he will NOT let go until morning.

He is very sentimental and will give the BEST advice

“Babe, will you come to get food with me please🥺?”

“Kiri, you have a whole pint of ice cream, three bags of chips, AND meat buns. You don't need anything else😂”

He would pout omg.

He would fall asleep if you play with his hair in an instant

—————————————

Kirishima laid in your lap, and you picked up each piece of his hair and gently let it fall. He had showered and decided on no gel, therefore his hair is silky soft.

“Babe, why did you let me eat so much?” he groaned looking up at you. All you could do was laugh, being high just made everything funnier. He began to pout which ceased your laughter.

“I tried to stop you, but you wouldn't listen, ” you almost began to laugh again. He groaned and held his stomach.

“Next time, don't let me eat so much, ” he squeezed his eyes so much. You continued playing with his hair and smiled at the tired boy.

His eyes began to close and he looked up at you and soon he was out cold.

Denki Kaminari

His favorite way to smoke it with a pipe. Just makes him feel cool and the glass is trippy

Denki is usually very goofy and doesn't take things seriously, but when he's high he gets very philosophical

Like this man will talk about how space is so big and how a fish finds its way home.

Anything that will make you question your existence

He won't even realize what he's talking about until he looks at the rest of the group who is just starting wide-eyed and thinking about their whole existence on earth.

For some reason, he seems smarter than he lets people believe.

If he's with you he will be resting his head in your lap

He will have deep conversations sigh you

He will unknowingly rub small circles on your thighs while he's lost in thought💕

Continues to pick on Bakugou and how he's much different stoned

Usually wants alone time with you afterward, he feels safer when you sleep with him

He likes to be the little spoon

—————————————

Denki sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. His eyes studied the ceiling, his mouth slightly agape in a soft smile as he got even more lost in his thoughts. His eyes were almost entirely closed. The hushed murders from the other teens seemed to entirely disappear. The soft music that was also playing just took his mind further into the abyss.

“Hey do you guys think it's crazy that one muscle in your body is the reason you are alive, and if it just decides to quit one day you will just topple over and die?” Denki continued to stare up at the ceiling. The entire room went silent, the only noise was the light music.

“Dude what the fuck, ” sero looked at home from down on the floor. Denki shifted his head to look at the rest of the gang who were all just staring at him.

“What, I'm just saying, ” he shrugged his shoulders. You just looked at him and laughed. That was the most random thing to say and he probably would do it again soon.

“C’mon baby let's get you to bed, ” you grabbed his hand and went out of the room making sure to say goodnight to everyone. One thing was for sure, Denki could not WAIT to be cuddled.

Sero Hanta

This man's the og stoner and will hit a bong over everything else.

When Sero is stoned he makes sure everyone else is having fun

He makes sure everyone is comfortable with what they are doing

If someone doesn't know how to do something, like hit a bong, he will gladly show them

He is a weed mom

The best kind of mom honestly

If someone is paranoid or worried about an adult finding out or getting in trouble, he will try his darn hardest to calm them down

Has the necessities

Carries gum, eye drops, perfume or cologne on him at all times.

Has a pipe on him always

Provides the goods 🌿

Now let me tell you, this man gets HELLA horny when he's stoned

If everyone is settled in and comfortable he will turn his attention to you.

He doesn't even hide it.

“Mi amor, you look beautiful right now”

He will make you so flustered you will have to leave the room.

—————————————

“Sero, what are you doing?” you ask as me scoots over to you across the floor. You can't help but laugh. The cheesy grin on his face was everything at the moment. It seemed like you were the only two in the room.

“Just coming over to check on you, mi amor, ”he purred as he placed his finger under your chin to make you look into his eyes. His eyelids were heavy, the red tint covered by a foggy gloss, just made him that much hotter. He blinked slowly and began to inch closer to your lips.

“Sero, ” you breathed out right before gently placed his lips on yours, moving to pull your body impossibly closer to his. His lips worked over yours as you found your rhythm. He pulled away looking up at your eyes from your lips.

He leaned forward again, this time next to your ear so no one else could hear but you.

“I can't wait till everyone leaves so I can finally find out how good you taste.”

Mina Ashido

This girl's favorite way to smoke is a simple joint

She is great at rolling

(cuz she's good with her fingers if you know what I mean)

She is definitely in charge of the music and the vibes it puts off

But will also try and get everyone to go out and do stuff like getting food or to annoy Aizawa.

She also is the person laughing the most

She will laugh at literally anything

Kirishima making jokes about food or how hungry he is, Denki just acting dumb, or getting a rise outta Bakugou, whatever it is she will be laughing

This girl is part of the alphabet mafia and you can't change my mind🏳️‍🌈

Now she's is a cutie when it comes to relationships

She won't act inappropriately in front of everyone else out of respect for you

However, when she gets you alone that's a whole other story

—————————————

“C’mon y/n, let's go to my room. I have something to show you, ” Mina smirked at you and squeezed your hand in hers. You had no other choice to follow her as you were already headed out of Sero’s room and straight to her room. You didn't even get a chance to say goodbye to everyone.

You finally made it to her room and she closed the door behind you.

“What did you want to show me?” you asked sitting on her bed. You look around the very pink room and back to her standing in front of you. Mina looked you up and down and reached out to grab your cheeks gently with her hands. She leaned down and kissed you gently, working for her hands down to the hem of your shirt, eager to get it off. Her eyes glazed over and watched your every movement as you striped your clothes. Her fingers grazed over the sides of your arms and you went back in for a kiss. She pushed you farther back onto the bed, straddling her legs around your waist.

“This is going to be fun, ” she said breathlessly and pulled you in yet again for another lustful kiss.

Asks are open!!! This is my first official post on here, advice would be fantastic, or if you have any ideas that would be awesome! Thank you for reading😁❤️

[cottoncandyjester]

What if another person tried to kidnap the yanderes darlings👀

All their reactions will of course be to get you back so I only did the ones that would have the strongest reactions

Also im gonna start pairing hikaru with a y/n who doesn't give a shit about his degrading..cause it's wayyy funnier

Warning this contains: death, talk of torture, cannibalism, yandere behavior, kidnapping

Theodore

Definitely wasn't expecting it

Theo is normally prepared but he doesnt have any idea what to do

He of course has to find out who would touch you and how to get rid of them

He is usually so calm and collected but when he gets you back he is merciless with your captor, cold and unnerving downright sadistic

He wants them to suffer for worrying him and stealing his little wife/husband

"so this is where you've been hiding" Theo spoke softly to you with a smile as he gazed at your restraints before setting you free and kissing your wrists which were lightly bruised from the restraints but he heard footsteps his eyes growing cold.

"angel, close your eyes and cover your ears okay? Don't stop til I say..please" he spoke softly before turning his back to you before walking away. Soon screams of pure agony filled the air a constant screaming before utter silence, Theo soon returning to you covered in blood now wiping his glasses clean with a gentle humming

"how about we go home and take a shower, okay angel?"

Axis

He gets his brother to help

He is unstable without you

Like he can't think straight and all his senses seem to not work properly he is utterly hopeless

The person who took you will feel his wrath

Axis always shows his his cute side but when he gets you he gets dark as hell

Aka he lets salem devour them

"sweetie! Oh thank goodness I found you!" Axis chirped out pressing a kiss against your lips before he set you free from the cage you were in. "Let's go home okay? I missed you so much!" He huffs out.

"you can't take them" axis shuddered at the voice of your captor and something feral come out of him, they took you..took you away and did god knows what. With a whistle it seems he got salem's attention who was sitting outside the room. Axis turned to you smiling sweetly while salem pounced the sounds of screaming and bones cracking filling the room as axis helped you out the cage and covered your eyes from behind guiding you out the room.

"don't mind the noise okay? I know it's loud." He whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss on the back of your neck.

Yuki

It's cute that people think they can take you from him

Is very prepared

It takes three hours before he's coming to you to get you

He doesn't seem angry but he is

He's downright cold just cruel

You sobbed softly as your captor tortured you using a knife to cover your body with small but deep cuts, you soon heard a faint sound and looked to the window seeing Yuki open it softly when the two of you locked eyes he pressed a finger to his lips signalling silence.

You tried your best to avoid staring at him as he hopped down from the window into the room the soft sounds of his footsteps alerting your captor who turned around.

"whose the-"

Yuki shoved a gun barrel into the stranger's mouth his eyes cold and dull as he locked eyes with them. "Die." Yuki whispers out shooting the pistol watching them drop before he aimed at them firing again..and again..and again. He didn't stop until the gun clicked so he checked the ammo and was about to even put a new magazine in bloodlust swirling in his eyes.

"y-yuki!" You snapped out your body shaking at the sight of the clearly dead body filled with holes. Yuki glanced down and tilted his head to the side giving a sleepy little oh before putting the gun away and untying you noticing your cuts and shoved his sweater onto you before scooping you into his arms.

"I'm teaching you how to fight."

His mumbled out as he took you home.

Rin

Sweetheart he is the leader of a whole gang of clown thugs

It takes him like thirty minutes to find you and the entire time he's smiling

Like "oh well what are you gonna do I guess haha time to get my y/n lol"

In actuality he's PISSED

When he gets you he doesn't show it though

He actually encourages the captor for a little bit before utterly slaughtering them.

"one step closer and I'll kill them!" You whimpered as you were held at knife point staring at rin with fear in your eyes but rin... simply pulls up a chair and plopped a seat his smile never leaving his face. "Go ahead" he stated out now gazing at his purple painted nails.

"boss, are you sure?" One of his goons asked out and rin chuckled before getting up. "They won't do it, that's the funny part. They are just a dumb coward too scared to do it" he explained skipping over to you watching how your captor shook in nervousness pressing the blade closer to your neck blood starting to spill.

"do it motherfucker, I'm fucking waiting" rin whispers out leaning in close his eyes widening almost looking like they were glowing. "Y-you're a monster" your captor cried now shoving you but rin wasn't done tormenting them. "I'll give you two choices, slit your throat...or suffer as my gang force you down and touch you in ways that makes you wish you were dead, over and over til you're a broken bitch, I mean either way they are gonna violate you but wouldn't it be better for them to do it when you're dead and you can't feel their groping hands?" Rin cheers out

Your captor backed up til their back hit a wall as rin hummed sweetly walking closer and closer to them before grabbing them by the shirt yanking them close.

" stop being a fucking pussy and choose or I'll be the one doing the violatinf and trust me you don't want that" rin whispers darkly in their ear before shoving them down and turning to you and his group.

"have fun boys try not to make too much a mess, I'm going home!" he cheers out now walking towards you and holding his hand out towards you with a grin helping you up. "Aweee are you crying?! You're so cute! Cutie cutie cutie!" He cooed now squishing your cheeks together completely ignoring the violence happening behind him.

"let's go home and eat dino nuggets!" He said happily before glancing behind him with an annoyed hiss "fucking coward slit his throat..." He mumbled under his breath but shook it off now taking your hand and skipping with a happy him guiding you away.

Hikaru

He doesn't realize you're gone at first

It takes him a day

He thought you were being a brat and hiding again so he decided to be pretty and ignore you..but he missed you and realizes you're kidnapped

He is pissed at you for being a dumbass and getting taken but also pissed at himself for letting it happen

When he goes there he doesn't even save you at first first he has to bitch about it

You two legit argue while you're tied up

Your captor is like "should i go orrrr..."

Of course they meet death but he has to complain first

Hikaru huffs as he stomped into the warehouse without a single care in the world his eyes glaring at you as you looked at him with relief finally he came for you

"hika-"

"bitch do you know how much of a waste of time this is? Like damn y/n you love wasting my time and money so much you get snatched up" you felt all your relief get replaced with annoyance as your eyes drooped into a glare.

"oh yes hikaru cause I got kidnapped on purpose. If I wanted to waste your money I would steal your credit card" you hissed back and hikaru scoffs lightly.

"well I'm here, what's all the fuss about?"

"I'm fucking kidnapped hikaru! How about you stop being a dick and help they could kill or even violate me!"

Hikaru gave you a sassy expression clearly already fed up with you at this point. "Sweetie, they won't violate you. Gotta be worth violating for that" he sneers out

Your captor gazed at the two of you nervously as to two shouted at each other for the next ten minutes. "Excuse m-" hikaru took out a gun and shot them in the knee as quickly as they spoke before getting back to his argument.

"...all I'm saying is a thank you daddy would be nice! Like I came all the way over here I had a hair appointment but nooo I had to save you. You're so damn selfish"

"oh my fucking god...thank you daddy for coming to save me even though you're my damn BOYFRIEND! I'll get someone else to save me next time" you snapped out and hikaru pouted "your sass is not needed" he grumbled out before untying you.

Your captor who was in very much pain tried to speak and hikaru gave them a disgusted expression, was this plebian speaking to him? "Shut the hell up, it's your fault too you could have taken anyone but no you had to take my pet" he snapped shooting them in the head before grabbing you by your arm dragging you out while grumbling under his breath.

"I better get my dick sucked" he hissed out now shooting you an annoyed look.

Rocket

He is so worried

Like so worried

He's a himbo so it takes him a bit to realize that you aren't at the store getting him more hamburger steaks

One he figured it out he quickly went to find you

He was such a mess

Once he found you he was crying and hugging you so tight

Snapped your captor's neck

Uses his strength in scary ways.

"y/n! Oh darling! Are you okay sunshine? Are ya hurt?" Rocket squeaked out as he started to untie you his breathing shaky and tears in his eyes. Rocket heard footsteps come closer, in a panic he was shoving you in a closet to hide before meeting the eyes of your captor.

Wasn't long til he was breaking every bone in their body,starting with their arm snapping it like a twig before moving to their leg then to neck making it more and more painful. "I usually hate violence, but my sweetheart..is my everything" he whispers out before turning to you with a gentle smile

"darling, let's go home"

[writer-room]

Siblings: Chapter Three

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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

Jason was glad he didn’t have any siblings.

There was a point in his life where he longed for an older brother or sister, when he was younger and fluctuating in and out of his mom's apartment that smelled like a different drug every week. Someone to teach him the ropes and beat up the bigger kids when they stole the food he’d found or the pocket money he’d snatched up.

Nowadays he was grateful he didn’t have anyone to share resources with.

Sure, he didn’t have anyone looking out for him, but that was for the best. He couldn’t learn how to survive on his own if he didn’t get hit a few times, right? 

And a younger sibling was out of the question. He couldn’t look after some toddler while he was barely functioning himself. Hell, if he had an older sibling, he wouldn’t have blamed them if this hypothetical sibling ditched him after a month tops.

Attachments in Crime Alley were for people who made gangs, who had followers or brothers-in-arms. That was the best you could get, but don’t expect any of them to risk their lives for you.

A sibling would’ve been seen as a weakness. Someone others could torment to get what they wanted out of him.

He really didn’t want to think about another kid being stuck in this dump with him, either.

It was one of the small mercies of life, that he didn’t have any kin to drag him down.

,

“Why are you here, again?”

“Because unlike you, Father prefers someone do their job efficiently.” 

Jason snorted, side-stepping the henchman who charged him, kicking his leg out and letting him slam his face right into an alley wall.

“I think blasting heads is pretty efficient,” Jason said, twirling one of said guns in his hand as Damian kicked in the face of a second henchman. “But, alas, I’ll have to settle for horrible maiming.” He said, pausing to shoot two fleeing men in the backs of their legs, sending them toppling to the ground.

“Change of heart?” Damian grunted, kicking a goon in the back and using the motion to body-slam into another. “I didn’t think you were capable of such a thing.”

“You wish,” Jason snorted. “Unfortunately, Nightwing would break his no-murder rule just for me if he knew I dared kill in the presence of his majesty with nobody else to be a buffer.” He said with a remorseful sigh.

“Tt,” Damian rolled his eyes, he always made an exaggerated head motion when he did like he was making sure people could tell through the whites of his mask. 

“He’s foolish to think that would do anything.” He said, picking up the unconscious body of one of the goons he’d knocked out and tossing it to the side of the alley. “I’ve killed far more than you could dream of.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jason said, his tone bordering on babying. “But, yeah, ol’ Wing’s got his priorities weird.” He shrugged, letting off another shot when he saw one of the men try to grab what looked like a knife from their scattered supplies.

“Maybe he’s just afraid of us bonding.” He continued, watching as Damian stood before four men splayed on the ground by broken wooden boxes, only two of them barely conscious and cowering away.

“And what, pray tell,” Damian said, psyching out the men by jerking towards them, startling them back against the wall, before turning to Jason with an unamused look. “Would you think to bond over?”

“Let’s see,” Jason hummed, leaning back against the opposite alley wall, gun resting on his shoulder as he counted off his fingers. “History with the League of Assassins, died at one point, killed people, fairly badass if I do say so myself, mothers with horrible morals, should I go on?” He said with a grin.

Damian paused for a moment, eyes narrowed. He thought for a moment before raising his head again to meet Jason’s gaze, a surprising lack of unbridled fury in them.

“Does that not also apply to Orphan?”

Jason paused, caught off-guard. He frowned, recounting off the points he made before staring at Damian, glad that his helmet hid his disturbed expression.

“Damn,” Jason whistled. “Guess the three of us need to bond sometime.”

“I’m sure she will enjoy being included,” Damian hummed, looking over his gloves as one of the seemingly unconscious men behind him opened his eyes. “Though I imagine Father would have some complaints about--”

Now, in Jason’s defense, he hadn’t been paying attention to Bane’s goons. As far as he was concerned, the fight was over. Which was why his attention was on Damian, and not anything around Damian.

Which meant that when one of the men who had been playing possum behind Damian jumped to his feet, gripping one of the wooden boards from the broken boxes in his hand, he barely flinched. In one movement, the man swung the plank of wood like a one-armed batter, connecting with Damian’s head.

Jason jerked the moment the wood hit, immediately sending Damian right to the pavement. He was firing off a shot before he even registered aiming it. The man yelped, falling back and clutching his side as he screamed out swears.

Jason ignored him in favor of crouching down while cursing under his breath, shaking Damian. The kid was blanked for a good few seconds before he jerked and stirred. Not too bad of a hit, not even out for more than a minute. He blinked his eyes rapidly, grumbling incoherently as Jason wrapped an arm around his front, drawing Damian up to his chest.

“B’s gonna kill me,” Jason grumbled, tightening his hold on the boy as he weakly felt around, gripping onto Jason’s arm.

The man wasn’t screaming as much as before, but he was still shouting as he gripped the wooden plank again, yelling about how he was gonna kill Jason or something. He wasn’t really in the mood to care.

Instead, he turned around, still holding Damian upright as he tried to regain consciousness. The man, with one hand still clutching his side, was raising the plank of wood again and waving it wildly around.

“Oh would you shut up?” Jason snapped, aiming his gun.

He fired off two more shots. He didn't pay attention nor particularly worry about where the bullets hit. The man finally slumped against the alley wall, weakly holding himself together and finally shutting his mouth.

Jason holstered his gun, freeing his other hand to wrap around Damian’s chest and hoist him up. Damian was shaking his head, eyes still blinking rapidly.

“The hell?” Damian mumbled.

“B talk to you with that mouth?” Jason lightly teased, shaking Damian slightly. 

Despite that, he still scooped up Damian, letting his head lay on his shoulder as he supported him.

“If you bite me for this, I’m dropping you off the first roof I see.” Jason threatened, stepping over one of the other men strewn out on the ground. “I know you haven’t gotten rabies shots, and I’m not taking that chance.”

There were balconies and window sills along the building to the left of the alley, so he used that. One arm kept a muttering and waking up Damian situated while he jumped between the balconies and used his free hand to grab onto the windowsills. It was a slower going than he normally liked, but he figured carrying Damian like a football wouldn’t go over too well.

The second his head popped up over the roof, he was greeted with the sight of black boots with thick blue stripes. One of the feet was softly tapping with slight impatience.

“Goddamnit,” Jason cursed, thunking his head on the edge of the roof, which was pretty uncomfortable considering his helmet was in the way and he was currently dangling by one arm about four stories up.

“I should’ve figured the sounds of murderous screaming were caused by you.” Dick said, crouching in front of Jason with a cheeky grin that crinkled his domino mask. “Having fun?”

“Right now? Worst time I’ve had in weeks,” Jason huffed, pulling himself up higher to reveal Damian hanging off his shoulder.

Dick’s smile dropped instantly. He reached out as Jason offered Damian to him, quickly taking the kid in the gentlest way that only Dick could pull off. Jason almost teased him for it, treating someone like Damian of all kids as fragile. He could be hit by a semi-truck and walk it off like it was an inconvenience. 

But Dick was clearly on the brink of having a panic attack, and it wasn’t any fun teasing him when that was happening. All it did was rile him up in the ‘I’m going to curl in a corner and try not to cry’ way and not the superiorly funnier ‘I’m going to punch your teeth in’ way like Damian or Tim.

“He’s fine,” Jason assured him, rolling onto the roof as Dick pushed Damian somewhat upright. At least the kid could properly hold his head up now. “Just took a blow to the head, was barely out for a second. More stunned than anything, I think.”

“Being knocked out is not fine.” Dick stressed, holding onto Damian tighter as he started growling and weakly trying to push Dick away.

“He’s getting better!” Jason huffed, gesturing towards him. “The brat’ll live. Honestly, you didn’t treat the rest of us like glass this after we died.”

“You lost all pity for it when you tried to kill everyone and bring up your death every five minutes,” Dick deadpanned, his worry breaking the moment his gaze left Damian. “And for the record, I do worry about you the same way, it’s just that Dam--Robin here is still a child.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Damian grumbled, still trying to peel Dick’s hands off him.

“He speaks!” Jason gave a sarcastic cheer. “Think you’ll live to see another day?”

“What even happened?” Dick demanded, ignoring Jason’s comments as he stood, helping Damian to his feet. 

“Took out some of Bane’s lackeys down there,” Jason said, pointing where he came from with his thumb. “Kid presumably ran off from the old man again and decided to grace me with his presence and help out. Just got a little distracted, he’s fine.”

“Please don’t tell me you killed the guy who did this,” Dick begged, giving Jason an apprehensive look.

“First of all, if I did, he’d deserve it.” Jason said, crossing his arms. “Second of all, no, I didn’t...I think,” He frowned, looking back towards the direction of the alley. “I didn’t actually check. Shot him a few times, though.”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Dick said, raising a hand up. “Every word out of your mouth is making me more anxious by the minute. I’d rather not know.”

“Oh, so when I kill people, it’s a heinous act,” Jason scoffed. “But when a certain ex-assassin lady and demon child kill someone, suddenly you can make excuses.”

“I do not make excuses--”

Damian, with one of his arms freed, batted at Dick with increasing violence until his brother finally released him with obvious hesitation.

“If you two are done bickering like schoolgirls over makeup,” Damian gruffed, pushing himself away. “I believe we are finished here.”

“You could’ve changed ‘schoolgirls’ to ‘Dick and anyone with eyes’ and your statement would’ve stayed the same.” Jason muttered.

“The only thing you know about makeup is how to cover bruises.” Dick retorted, hands on his hips. 

“And you only know how to look like a drag queen with excessive glitter.”

“I’ll have you know I look amazing in drag.”

“Obviously, but that is literally the only makeup you know--”

Jason only cut himself off when Damian attempted to roll his eyes and leave without them, instead swaying and stumbling into his steps. He shot out a hand and grabbed Damian by the back of his cloak like the scruff of a cat, holding him up.

“You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way?” Jason said, pulling him back. “Because I’m not against harming a child if it means I can get you back to the Manor in three pieces at worst.”

Damian growled and looked like he was contemplating spitting on him. Jason held his gaze, knowing that if he took off his helmet to give a proper glare that Damian would take the moment of broken eye contact to bolt or something equally stupid.

Dick’s eyes shifted between the two of them with a mix of nervousness and confusion. 

“...you will be the one to inform Orphan of the bonding meeting, and will be the one to keep her from doing anything abnormally ridiculous, and whatever other messes she causes during and after.” Damian negotiated slowly.

“Deal,” Jason released Damian, pushing him towards Dick. “Can we go now? I’m getting bored of this already.”

“You’re so impatient,” Dick tutted, looking like he was about to pick up Damian before thinking better of it and deciding to just wrap an arm around his side. “And what did he mean by bonding? Are you two actually getting along?” He gasped in a melodramatic fashion.

“We’re bonding over dying, the League of Assassins, and terrible mothers.” Jason said calmly as Dick pulled out his grappling gun, pausing at Jason’s words.

“And killing people,” Damian added.

“And killing people,” Jason nodded wisely. “We’re getting Cass in on it, too.” He said, sidestepping away from Damian’s attempt to kick him and muttering about using names.

“...as the responsible one, I cannot, in good faith, recommend having an amatuer group therapy session.” Dick said after a moment. “As your brother, however, I commend you getting a hobby that doesn’t involve maiming someone.”

“It’s not group therapy,” Jason scoffed, patting his belt down, wondering if he’d remembered to grab a grappling hook of his own. “We’re not softies who talk about our feelings to professionals like some commoners. We bad-mouth traumatic events like the well-adjusted people we are.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You can’t bully me about going to therapy but then get pissy when I so much as joke about leaving.”

“I can and we will.” Jason said, to which Damian nodded in agreement. “Someone in this family has to convince the little ones to find a non-murderous psychiatrist.”

“You realize that you count as one of the ‘little ones,’ right?” Dick raised a brow. “You’re younger than me.”

“I’m an adult.”

“You count as a little one in my heart.”

Jason and Damian made over exaggerated gagging noises, to which Dick rolled his eyes at, despite his smile, as he withdrew his grappling gun.

“Oh hush, both of you. We’ve got a certain someone to check for a concussion.” He chastised.

“I do not have a concussion.” Damian insisted.

“We’re checking, anyway.” 

Damian groaned dramatically, Jason snickering as he shook his head, Dick giving his--their--little brother a light scolding.

They were all going to be the second death of him, he swears.

[bimswritings]

This Is Our Way-Ch.2

Summary: What happens when you make the mistake of thinking you can steel from a  Mandalorian? You land yourself and job and a plethora of adventures and  emotion you could never even dream of.  The question is; where will  those emotions lead.

Warnings: Typical canon violence, NSFW implications and scenes later on

Ch.1

Read on Ao3

Normal Blog Request: Open

“What do you want.” The stranger's voice comes out muffled through the modulator of his helmet. It's deep and raspy, cutting through the air cleanly even though he speaks in little more than a mumble. The voice of a man who’s been hardened by the galaxy, ready to face anything in his way, and it sent shivers down your spine.

“You certainly don’t waste time now, do ya? Well, I can respect that , as I to, am a very busy man.” He smiles, lifting his hand to point directly at him.

“Your armor. Take it off.”

The air itself changes, shifting without anyone even moving. Even from your perch so far above you can feel it, becoming charged to the point it was almost suffocating, sending every nerve on edge.

You always knew Leon was a few brain cells shorter than average, but this? This was beyond stupid! Trying to take away a Mandalorian’s armor was as sure of a death sentence as stealing from the emperor himself.

“I’m going back to my ship. Move, or I’ll make you.”

You perked at his words. He wasn’t looking for you? It was really just by chance that he had wandered through here? If that were the case, then the universe really was against you. Not that you had any doubt about that in the first place.

Leon laughed. “Good one. But seriously. Hand it over.” The other three had been moving while he talked, slowly stalking towards the armor clad man until he was surrounded. If he noticed them he didn’t show any outwards signs of it, remaining still as he stared at the man in front of him.

A moment of silence. Then two.

“Alright then. Your funeral.” He nodded to the others.

All at once they were on him. It was a mess or limbs, arms and legs flying as each man fought for the advantage. It seemed that, by all means, the Mandalorian had it. Within seconds they were all relieved of their weapons, blades and blasters skittering across the alley as the fight continued.

It almost frightened you, the speed and efficiency with which he worked. Anything that happened to get past his defenses simply bounced off his armor.

‘I need to leave.’ You realized with a chill as he landed a particularly hard hit on Corin, a crack coming from his face as he fell to the ground, yet he still got back up, blood now streaming down his chin.

Slowly, you began to edge back. If you were lucky they would all kill each other and you’d have nothing to worry about. With Leon gone there would be no gangs after you, and apparently the Mandalorian had no interest in you. It was a win-win situation. For you at least.

Then, just as you were at the edge to freedom, a cry stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t the sound of grunts and squeals of pain from fighting. No. This was higher, more surprised than anything. The voice of a child.

Despite your better judgment, you turned back, unable to walk away if there was a chance there was some kid hiding in the shadows who got mixed up in this. That would have been more normal then what you actually saw.

The pod the Mandalorian had been traveling with earlier was now open. Inside of which rested not supplies like you had thought, but a small creature of some sort. Unlike anything you had ever seen, green skin and drooping ears poking out from a small head. Leon stood above it, the fighting taking a momentary pause with his discovery.

Producing his blade, he brought it closer to the small bundle as your heart jumped to your throat.

“No! Don’t hurt him!” The Mandalorian grunted, fighting forward against the grip his current opponents had on him.

Leon only pressed the blade closer, making it cry out more. “Not so fast there. Unless you want to find out what color its blood is, I suggest you cooperate.” The armored man froze, body tense as he raised his hands in surrender. Leon nodded to the others, who produced a pair of magnet cuffs. Kicking him down, they forced arms hands behind his back and restrained him into submission. All the while Leon watched with a sick sense of glee.

It surprised you. Mandalorians were supposed to be ruthless killers who fought simply for the joy of fighting. Yet here he was giving himself over for a child. One that didn’t appear to have any relations to him unless he was hiding quite the set of ears under that helmet.

Once he was sure the Mandalorian was restrained, Leon turned his attention back to the pod.

“I didn’t know you guys liked to keep pets. Thought you liked to do the whole ‘lone wolf’ thing.” He leaned in, examining the creature before picking it up to look closer. The Mandalorian jerked, earning a warning glance.

“Though I have to say, I’ve never seen a creature quite like this one before.” Smirking, he turned back, knife raised. “He’ll make a fine addition to my collection.”

You were never one to get involved, put yourself in danger for someone else's sake, but if there was one thing that threw your carefully honed self preservation skills out the window it was kids. They were innocent. Something to be protected and nurtured. They didn’t deserve any kind of pain, no matter who they were traveling with. Besides, you owed the man one. He had bought you dinner after all.

Hopefully this wasn’t going to hurt as much as you thought it would.

One step forward and gravity took effect, hurtling you towards the ground with more speed than anyone was comfortable with. It did the job though. Everett’s body crumpled beneath you, taking the brunt of the impact as your weight crashed down on top of him. It was still a rough landing, and the air was almost completely knocked from your lungs, making it that much harder to struggle to your feet. The cushion of a man however, did not make a single movement, let alone sound. While he wouldn’t remember what happened, the others sure would, their heads whipping around to face you, a mix of surprise and anger.

Leon was the first to speak up.

“What the fuck was that! You think you can just attack my guys!”

Pushing yourself up, you tried to ignore the throbbing pain as you mustered the best smile you could, sauntering your way over to where he stood. As you passed, you could feel the gaze of the others following you, keenly aware of one specifically as you wondered if he recognized you.

“I was just out, seeing if there were any tipsy troopers I might be able to snag.”

“Never a day of rest for you.” He tilted his chin. “So what warranted this ‘drop in’.”

“Oh, you know. Just saw you from above and thought I might say hello. Though I am surprised.” Finally approaching him, you added a little extra sway to your hips, feeling utterly ridiculous as you did so. Balancing on a crate, you rest your chin on your palm and leaned in just a bit too much. “I never thought you would nab yourself a Mandalorian. I must say, I’m impressed. Maybe I misjudged you.”

It made you almost sick, speaking in such a lustfully sweet tone, but it worked wonders on Leon. His chest expanded like a puffer pig, cocky as he proceeded to brag. The entire time you had to resist rolling your eyes.

He went on talking about nothing but how strong and influential he was, all the things that came with leadership and so on, until you cut him off. Eyes moving towards the creature in his hands. Your true target.

“It would be a real shame to kill that thing. Girls love moving in with guys who have pets.” Batting your eyes, you added a bit of extra charm and stuck your lower lip out in a pout. You had seen some of the escorts in the cantina doing it, and hopefully you were doing it right or you would look like a real idiot.

“Mind if I look at it. It’s pretty cute.”

His eyes widened a fraction at your words, before narrowing back down into little more than slits as a hungry look took over his face. Wordlessly he tossed it over to you, eliciting yet another cry from the bundle while you fumbled to catch it. Seeing it closer now, it was even funnier to look at. Wide eyes stared back, big and watering. It was cute, in an almost ugly way.

‘Asshole.’ You seethed, watching Leon move around you, now fully focused on the man being beaten to the ground by the others. Trying not to winch with each hit, you hoped his armor was as strong as rumored.

“I knew you’d come to your senses soon enough. Just playing a bit hard to get. I can respect the chase though.” He spoke, unaware as you slowly lowered the child back into the pod it had previously resided in. The small creature made a sound of confusion, cocking its head to the side as you fiddled with the buttons on the side, finally finding the right one to close it. One less thing you would have to worry about.

Making sure it was closed, you began moving once again, balancing on the balls of your feet as you approached.

“But now you’ve finally picked the right team.” Leon leveled his blade at the now laying Mandalorians neck, pushing just enough to force his head back.

“Yeah. Unfortunately, I’m not much of a team player.”

Your leg comes up in a swift kick, nailing him between the legs and dropping him to the ground as his mouth opened in a soundless scream. Your other leg rose in quick succession, catching him in the side of the head and knocking him to the ground.

Panting, you turned back towards the remaining two just in time to dodge a jab from Sho. Jumping back you were forced onto the offensive as he followed, swinging his blade in wide arcs. Further and further you were driven, and you could feel yourself quickly losing stamina as your breathing came in short gasp. You were a pickpocket after all. Not being seen was the basis of your skills, and while you knew how to fight it was never your strong suit. Brute force was out of your range.

Regardless, you fought on. Step after step, swing after swing, you evaded. If Sho hadn’t been so young and unseasoned he would have had you already. Unfortunately, he had help. A familiar cry reached your ears, piercing through the adrenaline and drawing your attention.

The child.

Looking past Sho, you could see Corin trying to break into the pod. Its doors were already open slightly, and the metal rod he had wedged between the plates only continued to widen the space.

‘Shit.’

Taking a deep breath, on the next arc of his swipe you pushed forward. Managing to grab a stray pipe as you passed, you grabbed Sho’s arm by the wrist, twisting the knife from it and shoving away. Pivoting around as soon as you were past, you brought the improvised weapon in a wide arc to make contact with a painfully sounding thud.

Not pausing in your momentum you turn to Corin, still occupied with the pod, leaving his back wide open. Two small leaps and you’re there, giving him the same treatment you had Sho, his body falling in a heap.

Panting, you peeked inside to find the creature unharmed, if not a bit scared. Though to be honest you yourself were shaken, the pipe falling from your hands with a clatter. As soon as you got the Mandalorian from his binds you could consider yourself even and leave. You would never have to worry about this again, apart from being extra careful around Leon from now on. He wasn't the type to take too kindly when his pride was hurt.

“Don’t worry bud. Stay there. I’ll go check on-”

A hit from the left, catching you in the temple and blindsiding you. Clenching at the injury, a boot found itself onto your back, forcing you to the ground before toeing you over.

“You. Little. Bitch!” Leon seethed from above. Spinning his blade around, he buried it into your leg, ignoring your cry of pain as you struggled. He repeated the process, striking the flesh again and again until it was little more than a bloody mess. All the while you prayed to the Maker he didn't an artery.

If Leon didn’t kill you now, surely you would die soon. A wound like this on the streets was a death sentence, especially without any medical equipment. If infection didn’t get you then lack of work would.

“Thought you could get the drop on me? Now, instead of sleeping with me, you can sleep in the ground.” His bloodied boot met your torso, earning a small crack and wheeze for his efforts. Trying to crawl away was no use, his other foot pining your wrist to the ground as he leaned over your body. Hand moving lower, your confusion turns to anguish as fingers jab into your body, entering from a wound you must have received in your skirmish with Sho. The adrenaline had kept you from feeling it before, but now? Now you wished you had remained unaware.

“You know,” Leon grunted, his fingers twisting inside and making you gasp as you felt something pull. “I knew I’d be in your guts one day, but I figured it would be a little more enjoyable for both of us.”

You hardly hear him, pain consuming every crevice of your body and invading your mind. It's like everything was burning with an invisible flame and nothing could put it out. Now matter how hard you struggled, how much you cried out for the maker to just end it, to let you die, it continued. It felt as if it was coming from everywhere, replacing the blood in your veins if only to spread more.

Only once in your life had you experienced anything even close to this, and you had barely walked away with your life then. But now…

You were drained. The last of your fight leaving with the blood as you grew colder, movements stilling. It's like you were surrounded in a cloud of cotton, everything muffled and blurry as your senses faded in and out.

Leon must think you dead, as his weight is removed, allowing your struggling lungs to greedily gulp in air. It did nothing to help, only making the burning in your chest worse.

Through hazed vision, you observe the world as it moved in slow motion. Shadows shift and flicker along the edges of your vision, before detaching to loom over you. There’s words being spoken, sounding all the same as they’re repeated again and again. It’s only when a hand ghost your wounds do you react.

A small whimper leaves your lips, begging whoever it is to leave you alone and let you die in peace. To die alone in the middle of an alley, stabbed and left to rot. As is the fate of so many who live here.

Then, in the middle of your suffering, comes warmth.

It starts small, a pebble of comfort really, growing more every second. You briefly wonder if this is what death feels like. If so, then maybe it's not so bad. It reminds you of the warm drinks your mother would bring home after work, warming you from the inside out like liquid sunshine.

It dulled your senses bringing a blissful wave of numbness as hands continued to move across your body.

Then, nothing. ________________

It seemed as if you were bathed in darkness for eternity, endlessly floundering in its inky depth. Like someone's holding your head underwater, keeping you under the surface with ease as you claw back to the surface of consciousness, inch by inch until you can slowly start to feel your body once again.

You're confused and bleary as you wake, body feeling like lead as your greeted with the humming of engines and creaking of metal. As far as you could remember, you hadn’t fallen asleep near the landing base, and ships never landed this close to your crate.

Thinking hurt too much now to worry though, head pounding in protest. It’ll be a problem for you in the future you decide. Right now, you just wanted to sleep off the massive headache. Turning over, a jolt of pain rewards your efforts and your eyes shoot open.

The sight of metal greeted you, though not the type you were used to. This was less rusted, better welded than anything in the area you lived. The blanket currently clutched in your hands was softer than anything you owned as well, and you never had an actual pillow before.

Another shock of pain coursed through you, prompting you to lift your coverings. The sight of stark white bandages greeted you, peeking up from the holes in your shirt and around your bare leg. There was no fabric left on the injured appendage, looking to have been ripped off if the jagged edges were anything to go by. The sight was heartbreaking, being the only pair of pants you owned, now left in less than good condition.

The sight of the bandages does stir something in the back of your mind, fighting the fog in your mind and settling right on the tip of your tongue. Its hazy, a patchwork of events and words. If you could just-

Another jolt shoots through you, bringing back memories alongside the pain. The walk home, seeing the Mandalorian with Leon, trying to help and getting fucked in return. It all comes back in sharp flashes.

That’s right. You were injured. You should have died. Yet here you are, alive.

The question is; where is ‘here’?

You’re resting in a small enclosed space, the only exit being at your feet, which protrude almost comically from the edge. There’s a large number of blankets and a few stuffed animals lying around, working to soften the metal crypt.

There’s no sounds apart from what you heard earlier, though if you listen closely enough you can hear the occasional beeping of machinery and internal components. The silence is of little comfort only making you on edge. If there’s no sound, then someone is purposely trying not to be heard.

Getting out of the small space is more of a challenge than you would think. The wounds make it nearly impossible to move and you have to bite your tongue to keep from crying out as you shift, slowly pulling yourself to the edge and allowing your legs to hang over the side. You nearly collapse when you jump down the remaining three inches to the floor, forcing you to lean on the cold steel of the wall. Air comes in short gasps with your hand clenched over your mouth to muffle any sound. When the pain fades enough to move again you make your way further through the ship, inspecting everything with wide eyes as you go.

You’re definitely on a ship. If the rumbling of the engine earlier hadn’t been enough, the floor under your feet sways and dips every so often, forcing you to use the wall to keep from falling. There’s tools and other miscellaneous items scattered about. Crates with varying degrees of fullness and contents are pushed into corners away from an incredible large amount of storage spaces, and the air reeks of blaster residue, rust, and fuel. There’s something that looks suspiciously like a carbonite chamber on the far wall, making your nerves increase ten fold.

It all had an organized chaos to it, making it near impossible for anyone but the ship's owner to navigate the clusters of items.

As you inspect a panel on the wall more closely, hoping you might gather some information, a small clatter makes you jump. Spinning around, you come face to face with the little monster that got you into this situation.

The green creature coos, speaking a jumble of sounds like he expects you to understand. It steps forward, waddling over in small steps to your frozen form until he’s at your feet. He doesn’t even come up to your knee, though that doesn't make him any less hesitant to latch onto your leg, tugging at the fabric with a surprisingly strong grip.

For once you’re unsure what to do. While you liked children, your experience was limited to those on the streets, giving the occasional tip to avoid them from causing any trouble and attracting attention from the enforcers. They seemed to like you though, and sometimes you swore it was like you had a retractor beam calibrated specifically for them. You tried your best to get them in with one of the better groups around, but that was all you could do for them. You were far from the best example, and there was no way you could look after them yourself.

But wait, he had been traveling with the Mandalorian. So if he was on this ship with you now then that meant…

A thud, louder than all the others. It comes from above. Your eyes drift to the ladder, leading up to the only place on the ship you haven't searched yet.

The cockpit.

You push the kid aside gently before moving closer, ears straining for any more noises. At the bottom you struggle to lift your arm to the bottom rung. Any movement sends a fresh wave of pain from your side, and when you lift your leg to push yourself up it only worsens. You're forced to use the uninjured leg, going up with only one of each limb. It’s slow and painful, only made that much more difficult by the fact you had to remain silent.

It was a slow go, but eventually you made it to the top, head poking above the lip of the entrance to reveal a spacious cockpit. There were three seats arranged in an arrow, but only one was currently occupied with the man you were looking for. His shoulders jutting out from the sides, too wide for the seat to act as a proper back. Light from the passing stars bounced off his helmet almost blindingly in flashes. The rifle strapped to his back was gone, but that didn’t mean he was unarmed. There could be any number of blades and blasters hidden on his person. Though even without weapons he was dangerous.

Imminent death wasn’t what concerned you. After all, you assumed he was the ones who had patched you up and brought you aboard.

As you made your way closer to his turned back, your eyes roamed the area. Being around ships as much as you had, even if they were mainly imperial, there were a couple things you noticed.

Judging from the setup, it must be pre-empire, though it clearly had some modifications added to keep it on par with other ships. Reinforced walls in the upper parts, clearly welded by someone other than a professional, with a narrowed viewing port to give blaster less of a chance to blow out the glass. A sliding door with airlock components lies at the entrance. Not something you would find on a normal transport ship like this, which the large hull told you it was. Squares weren't the most dynamic shape for space travel after all.

Through the narrowed view you can see you’re in hyperspace and it takes you aback for a moment. You had never been beyond the atmosphere of Corellia, even when in the hold of transports. Countless nights you had spent gazing at the sky, trying to see past the clouds to the stars beyond, wishing you could be up there with them, exploring the galaxy and away from this hell hole. Now, it was like your dreams had come true in their own twisted way.

So distracted by the sight, you missed the stray plasma cutter lying on the ground. Your heel caught the edge, making you stumble as it skidded across the floor, the noise early defining after the previous silence. You paused, only a few feet from the Mandalorian now. There was a beat of silence, and you wondered if you had caught him sleeping. Somehow that was almost as terrifying as finding him awake. The fact that he found you so little of a threat that he could sleep without fear of you trying something.

Then, without turning, he spoke, voice sending every fiber of your being on high alert.

“I thought you would have slept longer.”

[meltingangels]

As it’s been up on AO3 for a while now, I am making my first Cyberpunk fic available to read on tumblr!

Fic Title:

It's Not a Shrine

Fic Summary:

"What the fuck, V?" (I made a post on tumblr about how funny it would be if V was some kind of Samurai/Silverhand superfan. And how Johnny would react if he walked in and saw all these posters and shit on the wall. And I needed some serotonin, so here we are)

So I made this random post on tumblr and someone said they’d like to see it ‘made canon’ so here I am with this. Whether it progresses or stays as a oneshot depends on the reception.

Basically, I thought of what would happen if V was into older/indie rock music, and a big fan of Samurai- Johnny Silverhand’s group. And how he would react (if he didn’t show up in V’s apartment like he does that first time) if he walked in and there was this huge-ass poster of him on the wall.

Just have at it, lads. This starts off kinda serious, to set the scene. Also because I feel starting off serious makes the end part all the funnier.

Also because I don’t know how to do a short oneshot.

V figured that whatever was on that fucking relic had to be a pretty big deal, if Dexter Deshawn and Evelyn were willing to up against Arasaka to get it. Sure, it would have been nice to know exactly what that was, but given how much time and planning had gone into every other aspect of this insane heist, they’d just shoved any thoughts about the relic itself to the back of their mind. 

They just had to focus on somehow pulling this off, which...even with all the planning...was going to be a fucking miracle. Any aspect of the plan could end up getting fucked up, or someone could end up fucking them over, but the fact that a successful heist would propel them into the fucking stratosphere of Night City’s underworld- with a paycheck to match- was just...well.

Too much to resist. Who wouldn’t want to take up that sort of opportunity? They’d be insane not to try. Anyone who was worth anything in the sprawling underground network of the city’s gangs would know who they fucking were. 

It’d come with it’s drawbacks of course, but once people know they’d gone up against fucking Arasaka and stolen a relic from right under Yorinobu’s hands? 

Most wouldn’t even dare to touch them.

Yeah, the idea of ‘making it to the big leagues’ as Jackie had said it, was too much for either him or V to resist. Sure, they’d talked about it a hell of a lot, going over the risks and all. Which outweighed all their past jobs put together. What they’d done so far was small-time stuff. Just general merc business, nothing to be overly proud of. Certainly nothing to attract any big names. Truth be told, V still wasn’t sure how Jackie had managed to get them the gig in the first place. 

But they hadn’t questioned it. Just like they’d stopped questioning the heist when presented with Dexter’s plan and the hefty reward they’d negotiated. Which, again, was more than most of their past jobs put together. Given how much money and time was going into the heist, despite the fact it would take a miracle to pull off without a hitch, it seemed almost foolproof.

But it had gone wrong in every possible way. Despite claiming the plan was pretty much bulletproof, and he had some of the most reliable sources for all his information, Dexter had still somehow missed the fact that the fucking Emperor had come to talk to his son. A huge factor that had turned everything upside down. Not only had they been made unwilling witnesses to the heir of Arasaka murdering his own fucking father, the entire hotel going up on alert had sent literal shockwaves through their oh-so-foolproof plan. 

V and Jackie couldn’t get back out through the elevator and ended up shimmying along the literal edge of the balcony, with a fucking glass roof on one side, and a sheer drop on the other. And because everything had gotten completely screwed, they’d had to take the glass roof option. The rush of adrenaline and fear coming from sliding down the tilted roof, with dozens of bullets raining down way too close to their backs, was nothing compared to having pain ripple through them as every last breath was knocked out of them.

Then there had been the sense of terror, sending chills down V’s spine, when they turned to Jackie and saw the blood seeping through his white-collar shirt. The knowledge that they somehow had even less time than they thought. That was...honestly...V didn’t think anything could have been worse than that. Looking up from the scarlet red, to the sudden paleness of Jackie’s face. A face that looked more in shock than anything else, eyes hinting at the fear he quickly tried to hide behind his usual jokes and bravado. 

V had barely taken her eyes off of him the entire time, terrified that every time they looked over, he’d be dead on the floor. But, somehow, against the odds of that stomach-turning injury- and the countless waves of Arasaka guards armed to the teeth, they’d made it. Made it out, the chip safe and secure in Jackie’s head, to the relative security of the Delamain vehicle. Where V had almost let out a laugh at the fact they’d made it.

Only for Jackie to bleed to death in the back seat, while she was powerless to stop it. The feeling of his blood seeping out over her fingers, bunching her jacket up against the wound, had somehow been fucking nothing compared to how he’d reached out to touch her face and smile. That same crooked, warm smile, eyes shining like this wasn’t the last time they’d be doing so. Or how her heart had finally shattered into a million pieces when that hand fell down, and his body went slack. Honestly, no amount of alcohol or drugs that Night City could offer would ever get that out of her memory. 

V knew it would haunt her nightmares for years, if those ever stopped. Then there was those first moments without Jackie, with her stumbling out of the car covered in her best friend’s blood. With the scarlet fucking covering her up to the elbows, staining her own white shirt the same way it had ruined Jackie’s. 

She could remember stumbling into the motel, and before she had it in her to find her way to Dexter’s saferoom, there had been a thought just as terrifying as the idea of Jackie’s body being back in the car waiting for her. 

The thought of having to take Delamain round to Mama Welles’ place and show her that her son was gone.

And as if that wasn’t enough of a clusterfuck for her mind to deal with, she’d then been left reeling with the bitter sting of betrayal. Panicking in a way that showed the exact opposite of the slick, cool gangster he always portrayed, Dexter had shot her in the fucking head. After his goon had beat her to a fucking pulp. Which, of course, V assumed would be the end. A world class beating and a bullet to the brain did tend to bring an end to someone’s life. Well, the bullet would do that by itself. All the implants in the world couldn’t save you if your mind was completely fucked. 

But somehow she’d fucking made it through that. Left in a pained daze as confusion overrode any sense of fear or anger. Jackie had died. Why hadn’t she? There was a bullet in her head, so why the hell wasn’t she wherever you went when you died. If there was ever any such place, that is.  Why had she somehow survived, not only through said beating + bullet, but through the insane fucking car chase after? 

That had ended in a crash that almost took out the guy who pulled her through all that.

As if all of those events weren’t consecutive, metaphorical and literal hits to the heart, there was then the mind-fucking revelation that followed. That the relic wasn’t just any piece of fancy tech. No. Well, sure, it was a fancy piece of tech. But it was also so much more. As were the memories V had previously believed were some kind of hallucination. This piece of tech, buried in their own fucking head, was a digital construct. Something that was almost like a human soul . Which was mind blowing as it was. 

But then there had been the moment V realised the truth of what Viktor was saying to them. 

They had Night City legend Johnny Silverhand in their head. His construct had been what Dexter and Evelyn had risked everything for. What Jackie had given his life for. 

Yeah, the guy was no doubt a terrorist. But there had been some kind of method to the guy’s madness. And even with that, they couldn’t work out how to feel. Yeah, the idea of being wiped clean was fucking terrifying, but the fact that neither of them would be able to do anything about it? That changed things. V thought the tech was conscious in its decision to take over her body. But it was just that. A piece of tech, going on what it had been programmed to do.

Of course, they were still terrified. They’d beaten death once, only to have it looming at their back again. But there was some sliver of hope. The guy who saved them, Goro Takemura, had ultimately saved V because they were the only other living witness to the Emperor’s murder, but their first meeting had given V that hope. He’d given them some leads to follow, promising more information if V helped out on his end. 

And that had been just enough to keep V going. Whilst they’d yet to see any sort of physical manifestation of Silverhand’s construct, what they were dealing with outside of that was still more than any sane person would want to deal with. They’d found out, in the absence of her return, Delamain had returned Jackie’s body to his family. 

Meaning some strange, shot up car had arrived on Mama Welles’ doorstep, carrying her son’s broken and bloody body.

Facing the woman after that had been almost as terrifying as staring their oncoming death in the face. But she’d shown V compassion they still didn’t believe they’d deserved, including them in every part of Jackie’s memorial celebration, letting them contribute to the ofrenda and speak of just some of the many fond memories V had of her son. Who had been taken from the world far too fucking early, right when they’d really started their climb to the top. 

Then there had been the sucker-punch of emotions that resulted when the woman gifted Jackie’s motorcycle to her. The piece of hardware he’d saved up for months to get, buffing it up and tweaking it every chance he’d got. The one vehicle he never, ever, let V drive. 

God, that...that had been something else. Picking up the keys, turning them in the ignition, and being sent to their knees by the rush of memories that resulted. Memories that turned into an agonising blur, sending spikes of pain into their head, leaving V unable to move from where they’d knelt against the unforgiving ground.

That, of all places, had been the first time Johnny Silverhand had showed up. In the flesh, so to speak- standing before V almost as clear as a real fucking person. It was also the time they learned that a hell of  alot of the stories about the guy were true. If she had his memories, he had hers, so he’d no doubt have known the sequence of events that brought him here. 

But he’d still gone into some kind of rage, taking control of V’s body for a few terrifying moments, scattering some of the clutter that Jackie had clustered in every corner of his garage. Slamming her head against the fucking wall . The guy had been fucking terrifying, all but holding V by the throat, going off on some tangent about how he now had a chance to end the shit he’d started with Arasaka half a decade ago, with that fucking bomb that wiped out damn near all the tower- the blast of orange light shattering every single window in a several mile radius. 

A blast that had been powerful enough to shake the foundations of the buildings around the tower, in a way that signalled the start of something. Or what Johnny wanted to start back then, at least.

V shouldn’t have expected much more from someone who was a known anarchist, but they did. Because in a way they’d been dodging talking about, they knew a hell of a lot more about Silverhand than they were letting on. How he’d not seen certain memories, V wasn’t sure. But they were grateful to that twist of fate. Because yeah, they knew way more than they should. That was an understatement. When they’d been tossed from foster home to foster home after their parents died in an armed robbery, one of the few things V had been able to do to escape it all had been through getting into music. 

One of the handful of friends she had at her last home, before turning 16, had saved up from this little waitressing job they had at some tiny diner- all so they could gift V with a retro music player she’d been coveting. It was second hand, perhaps a few times over, bought from some old rocker- but it was one of the best gifts they’d received.

At first, they’d thought about using the tech skills they’d learned in their research outside of school to wipe the device clean. But something had stuck out. The device showed up the album covers on the screen, but would also play a holographic image of the main performers via a tiny projector in the device itself. And, bored of waiting for other music to download through the home’s crowded, outdated internet, they settled in to scroll through what the old rocker had left on there. One particular album had stood out to them amidst the black and silver of metal and old rock. 

It was a dark cover, upon which was set a distinct logo. A black and red Samurai-type mask, eyes seeming to be set ablaze even as a still image. When they’d selected it, they saw the projection. Admittedly, it was a bit fucked up- blurry and glitchy in places. Not in as high quality as the rest; clearly recorded by a fan in the audience. 

Patched together. But patched together in a way only a devoted fan could. 

That, and the bright-ass logo, convinced V to listen.

And that had been it, pretty much. They’d gone through the entire album in one sitting, and that was all they listened to for three days straight. At first, it was just the general tune and the lead singer’s voice that drew her in. But then she started really listening to the lyrics, and that’s what truly started her down that twisted rabbit hole. She started digging into who Samurai were, and, more specifically, who their lead was. They were a proper, kind of old school rock band, who had a pretty decent and dedicated following. 

But they never went mainstream. Which, given their lyrics and what happened with Silverhand, made sense. When V first read about how Johnny Silverhand started a one-man war against Arasaka, the figurehead of the monopolising corporations that had taken over the world, they were hooked pretty much instantly. They saw and heard way too many stories growing up on the streets, of shops being taken over and homes being demolished for shiny skyscrapers and luxury hotels. 

Of how the streets became laden with neon logos and signs blaring into your vision as far as your orbital implants could see. How they held a terrifying amount of control over the NCPD and major leadership positions. That the city was basically a monopoly board for the ultra rich to play in. To fuck with in whatever way they saw fit.

So yeah, like any sane person (or angsty teen) would do, V found themselves in Samurai’s music. And as the years went by, and they learned more about Silverhand and how he’d somehow managed to bring down Arasaka’s own fucking tower in Night City- at the cost of his own life now less- for the chance at bringing down the megacorporations ruining people’s lives, they found it being a part of themselves. Especially as they got into the mercenary gig at 18 and started working their way up, seeing the deepest and darkest parts of Night City’s underworld. 

Ok, it was kind of an obsession. 

But it wasn’t only an ideal that V could get behind, it was also an escape from the chaos of her life. 

Fucking hell, she even spent a huge chunk of her first well-paying job on tracking down and obtaining one of Silverhand’s original guitars. Sure, him and Samurai weren’t the only band with posters and memorabilia decorating her apartment walls (which she carefully took down and carried with her as she moved from place to place), but they were definitely the majority of it. There was even an original poster, taken and edited by a photographer who got into one of Samurai’s last concerts. 

A photo of Silverhand all but screaming into the mic, one hand on said microphone, and the other on a gun that gleamed as silver as his cybernetic arm. The crowd reaching out to him amidst a haze of blazing lights and dense smoke.

Which, after all that and a string of events that were like something out of an old Hollywood action movie, left V where she was now. After spending 3 days hopping around Night City, taking on job after job, and switching between motels, they’d finally gotten the courage to go back to their apartment. Because yeah, they were definitely still scared shitless about the idea of their brain essentially being wiped clean. But the immediate issue was that, in the few days she’d had with him cropping up everywhere, she’d gotten to know Silverhand a bit. 

The guy still scared her half the time; not that she’d admit that to his fucking smug (and annoyingly good-looking) face, but the other half of the time? He was pretty interesting. Definitely still holding on to a metric tonne of anger towards Arasaka, and more blunt and abrasive than any person she’d ever met, but interesting. Beneath the layers of anger and resentment, as well as more cockiness than one person should ever fucking possess, there was hints at the shit beneath all that. 

Of who Johnny was, beyond the legend attached to his name.

So yeah, that left them stuck outside the door of V’s apartment, Johnny crossing his arms as he leant back against the wall with a huff- the former being more than a little afraid to open the door. They’d lucked out with the memories of hers that he’d seen so far, but that was going to run out sooner or later. Especially with the both of them being on borrowed time. So it was better to get this shit out of the way sooner, rather than later. 

Didn’t make the prospect any more appealing, of course. She knew how Johnny felt about the so-called fanatics and groupies. Good for a one night stand, but nothing else. 'Just following the slightest sense of fame' as he put it. So V could only imagine how he’d react to not only seeing a room half full of Samurai memorabilia, but also the knowledge he was stuck in the body of the owner of said memorabilia. 

One of the ‘wild fans’ he’d said he despised. Sure, V wasn’t exactly ashamed of liking Silverhand’s music (or him, because fuck) but having your teenage hero seeing a room full of his band’s shit was on another level.

And she couldn’t even duck away afterwards. They were literally stuck together for the foreseeable future.

Fuck.

Fuckfuckfuckfuck fuckfuckfuck.

“Any reason you’re stood there with your eyes wide as hell, like your fucking brain already got wiped?” Johnny spoke up, abruptly bringing her back to the present.

“No. No reason.” V shrugged, hoping to appear nonchalant whilst internally screeching.

“Something in there you don’t want me to see?” Johnny showed up in the corner of her vision, leaning against the wall. “Can’t be any worse than the shit out here.”

“You that interested in seeing my apartment?”

“With the alternative being stuck in your head staring at a fucking door, yeah. I am.”

Okay, he was definitely getting more and more pissed off as the seconds ticked by. To be fair, she had been staring at the door trying to gather the courage to open said door...for about...five minutes. Truth be told, she was surprised Silverhand lasted that long. Guy wasn’t exactly one for being patient. 

Which was the understatement of the fucking century. But the idea of him fucking her up for making him wait was somehow, somehow, worse than the idea of who was basically her (he was an anarchist asshole, but damn if the guy didn’t make a good point sometimes) idol growing up, seeing her apartment plastered in his band’s memorabilia. There was already an onset of cringe overtaking V’s system, grimacing as she anticipated the barrage of fucked up questions that would be coming her way- but somehow she finally got in in her to swipe the key across her door. 

At least she hadn’t left it in a fucking mess like she normally did. 

That would be something.

When Johnny casually walked through her to examine the apartment, V stepped in after him, the door sliding shut agonisingly loud behind her. Those first few seconds were some of the longest of her life, and given all the shit that had happened recently, especially what got her to this bizarre fucking moment in the first place- that was saying something. Saying something. Which was, V realised, something that Silverhand wasn’t doing. 

In the few days they’d spent together, he rarely shut up. So this was about as miraculous as her rising from the fucking dead. Of course, the silence had it’s drawbacks- V could practically feel the tension rising...as Johnny scanned the room. As he no doubt saw the countless Samurai poster variations amidst the swathes of rock memorabilia. And, of course, landed on the huge fucking poster of him on the opposite wall. 

Which went literally floor to ceiling, beaming out amidst the cluttered apartment like the fucking neon lights of the city outside.

Something that made the silence all the more-

“Hey, V?” Johnny spoke up abruptly.

“...yeah?” V braced herself.

“What the fuck?”

V opened her mouth to say something, but all that came out was a nervous laugh. Sure, she was mildly terrified, but the way he just said it so deadpan and blunt as he slowly turned halfway- eyebrows raised so fucking high you could see it above those trademark sunglasses...it was honestly one of the funniest things she’d ever seen and heard. 

It somehow sounded simultaneously unlike him, without any of the usual spite or anger, but so much like what she’d expected all the same. He sounded a mixture of disappointed, and outright freaked the fuck out. Which was...understandable. The guy had been brought back from the dead, stuck in some random ass stranger's body, only to walk into their apartment to see half of the wall was like some fucked up poster shrine to him and his band. 

Yeah. V could understand his reaction. Didn’t make it any less hilarious. (Or make her any less scared of the inevitable fallout, but hey)

“You gone deaf or something? Relic malfunction?” Johnny tried getting her attention. “I said...what the fuck, V?”

“I...uh...can...explain?” V spoke hesitantly, hands raised in mock (no, totally real) surrender.

“Uh huh. Really?” Johnny didn’t look or sound convinced, arms crossing in front of his chest as he turned to fully face her. “Going to make this worse and tell me what I think is going on?”

“What...do you think...is going on?”

“This shit isn’t in bad condition, but I can tell its old as fuck.” Johnny gestured to the wallpaper-like swathe of posters. “And not because its Samurai shit either.”

“So…” V wrung her wrists together nervously.

“You’ve probably had it since you were like, what? A fucked up hormonal teenager?”

“I…”

“Great.”

“Look, this-”

“Is somehow worse than waking up in your body?”

“Hey!”

“How would you feel if you rose from the fucking dead and found a shrine to yourself?”

“It is not a shrine- ”

“Sure looks like it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself-”

“Says the asshole with a huge fucking poster of me on their living room wall.”

“How am I an asshole?”

“Because this shit is weird, V!”

“Liking a band is a bad thing?”

“No. Having a fucking shrine is-”

“IT’S.NOT.A.SHRINE!”

Yeah, V was definitely considering that she was going crazy. Here she was, after almost pulling off the most insane heist Night City in years, the death of her best friend- and rising from the dead...arguing with the digital construct of the guy she’d looked up to for half her fucking life. Over whether her (admittedly kind of oversized) poster of said idol made up the centerpiece of some kind of shrine. If you’d told her this was what her life would amount to, trying to defend her teenage-borne obsession with an indie rock band to their resurrected anarchist/terrorist lead singer, she wouldn’t have believed you. 

Not even after overdosing on every fucking drug Night City had to offer.

God, worse than the insanity was how fucking embarassed she felt. Because even she was starting to realise how weird it would be for Silverhand to wake up in someone’s head, only to walk into their apartment and see said person was pretty much obsessed with him. Because yeah, she had to admit to herself it was an obsession.

 How could you blame her? The guy’s music was pretty fucking awesome, he had somewhat understandable views on corporate overlords... and he was probably one of the most attractive guys to ever walk the streets of Night City.

But he hadn’t seen every poster yet. He’d turned back round, talking about something V couldn’t hear over the rising mix of terror and cringe running through her veins, fixated on that huge-ass poster of him on the wall opposite them. And he’d yet to almost crack his voice with another what the fuck , meaning yeah. He hadn’t seen every poster. 

Namely, the one she’d stuck on the square wall behind her bed. Which was worse than the gigantic one taking up a quarter of one of her living room walls. It was some reporter’s photo from a backstage venture at one of Samurai’s concerts. (Taking up that whole section of wall) Silverhand was sitting on top of an unused amplifier, looking at someone outside of the camera’s point of view. Signature vest top nowhere to be seen, leaving him shirtless. In those stupid tight leather pants and boots combo. With his trademark sunglasses on. Smoking a cigarette, smirking, skin shining-

Possibly the thirstiest fucking image that photographer could have taken.

“V?” Johnny snapped her out of it.

"What?" V bit back.

Shit, she’d gotten distracted by the somewhat spicy photo. (Another thing she’d take to her fucking grave) She had to move while his attention was still on the other poster. Because if she could just cross the few feet over to her bed, unnoticed, she could carefully pull the poster down and stash it under the bed. She could say some shit about how yeah, it was pretty fucking weird, and take down the other one after.

Yeah, if V could just make it across the floor, she’d get through this with at least a shred of her dignity intact.

However, Fate (the bitch) seemed to have even more fucked up plans for her.

Because today, of all days, in this one shitty moment…

Her foot landed on the creakiest fucking patch of flooring in the entire goddamn apartment.

Johnny instantly turned to face her, downed eyebrows raising once more when he took in her almost cartoon-like sneaking stance. Even though she knew she looked fucking ridiculous, V couldn’t quite bring herself to move. She was literally frozen in fear, knowing that any second now...

“The hell are you-” Johnny started, before turning his head.

As he started to follow her line of sight, V relaxed her cartoon pose and started slyly backing away, (Like that would help her. The guy was literally stuck in her head) following his gaze. When his eyes finally crossed over to her bed, V felt herself get struck with the hugest fucking sucker-punch of cringe she’d felt since she was the angsty teenager that had inadvertently gotten her into this mess.

But then Johnny finally fixed his eyes upon the shirtless photo of him, stuck up next to her bed of all places.

“Oh for fuck’s sake-”

[elianamarie-blog]

can you do one where Hyde and the reader are together and she gets jealous of Jackie but he assures the reader that he only wants her?

Uh, YEAH. I will absolutely do that for you!!

If Only I Looked Like Her

The gang sat around on a Saturday night, taking that lovely green plant and enjoying the haze. Y/n sat in between Hyde’s legs on the floor as she observed the rest of the group. She sensually and comfortingly rubbed his legs as he mentioned his stupid car that runs on water theory.

Y/n looked over to Jackie who, as high as she was, was still looking gorgeous. Her curled raven hair fell softly against her shoulders as her two different colored eyes shined in the dim light. Her thin stature and slender legs made her look like a model. Her sense of style was always on point and no matter what, she always looked cute and straight up gorgeous. If she was a nicer person, Y/n would’ve been completely green over her, but she could marvel at her beauty. While Y/n normally dressed in jeans and t-shirt. She preferred to be in sweats a lot with her hair tied up, which Steven has already seen plenty of times. She never did her hair in fancy ways like Jackie did. She only would have her hair up in a ponytail or waved down. Only when she was going out with Steven did she do her hair and do her wardrobe, but most of the time, she looked dull compared to Jackie. And despite being in a faithful relationship with Steven, she sometimes caught him staring at her. 

And tonight was one of those nights. She had something about waxing her legs and making all the boys at the mall fawn over her. Everybody had stopped listening, too high or bored to care. But Y/n looked up to see Steven eyeing her and felt her heart shatter inside her ribcage. She felt her face and chest tighten and she knew tears were going to surface.

She swallowed her tears and stood abruptly, causing a jolt from Steven. “Alright, it’s getting late. I’m going to head out.”

“It’s nine o’ clock,” Hyde said.

“I know, but I got that...thing in the morning and I have to be up super early.”

“You mean our breakfast date?” he questioned.

“Oh, right that,” she said, her hands clammy and fumbling to find the right lie. “I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Yeah, Y/n, why?” Donna asked, smirking with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Y/n glared at her through the corner of her eye and glanced back to a confused Hyde. “I just, uh, have something in the morning that needs to come first.”

“Like what?” Jackie asked, genuinely confused.

“Not that it anyone’s business, but I have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“Oh, I see,” Eric. “You got that itchy-itch? That burning sensation when you pee? Yeah, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” The group started laughing, except for Hyde.

“Shut up, Forman!” Hyde spit and stood up to meet Y/n. “Seriously, Y/n, what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” she lied. Unfortunately for her, he was good at detecting lies. “I just need to go home because of my thing and I’m getting tired.”

Steven knew she was lying and needed to get her alone, but evidently respected that. “Okay, well let me drive you home,” he said and grabbed his coat.

She nodded. “Okay.”

She bid goodbye to everyone as they walked out the door, Hyde giving everybody a look before closing the door.

The car ride was silent. Y/n didn’t want say anything because she felt she was being stupid and didn’t want to get emotional while Hyde sat there in anticipation, waiting for her to either explode or burst into tears. But when it didn’t come, that’s when he started growing frustrated.

As he parked his car in the driveway, Y/n immediately reached for the handle.

“Bye, I’ll see you tomorrow!” she said hurriedly, but was quickly trapped in as Hyde hit the power locks. “Steven, what the hell?!”

“Y/n,” he said sternly. “What’s going on?”

"You do realize that I can just unlock the door, right?”

“Answer the question.”

“Nothing is going on, okay? I’m fine.”

“I know when you’re lying to me,” he said. “The question is: why?”

“I’m not lying!”

“Yes, you are!”

“I’m fine!”

“No, you’re not!”

“Even if I wasn’t, I don’t wanna talk about it!”

“Why?!” Now he was getting mad.

“Because I just don’t!” she screeched.

“Well, you’re gonna!” he barked, the roughness in his voice coming out. “You’ve been acting weird lately and I want to know why!”

“Please, please, please Steven, don’t make me say it,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Say what?!” he asked. “I can’t fix anything if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Y/n turned her head away from him, tears threatening to spill over. “It’s stupid and I already feel dumb thinking this.”

“Come on, Y/n, you gotta tell me what’s wrong,” he said gently and brushed hair out of her face.

Her chin wobbled and she covered her face with her hands, feeling embarrassed. Hot tears rolled down her face. “I see the way you look at her.”

Hyde knitted his eyebrows together. “Who?”

She sniffed. “Jackie,” she answered thickly.

Hyde stiffened, almost feeling disgusted. “What?”

“I see the way you look at her!” she repeated, but stronger. “I know you guys have a past and you were totally in love with her. I mean, you almost asked her to marry you. And I can’t help but feel you still have feelings for her.”

“What makes you think that?”

“C’mon, Hyde. She is gorgeous. She was head cheerleader in high school and even has a job at a popular tv station. And on top of that, she’s stinking rich. And then I look at me and I’ve...got none of that. The way I feel about you...I’ve never felt this way about anybody and when I look at her, I know I can’t compare to that. I’m nothing like her and yet you’re with me. I’m not as skinny as her, I’m not as tall as her, I can’t even do my hair like hers. Believe me, I’ve tried. And I’ve failed at it. How can you be with me when you were with someone like her?”

She couldn’t help the sobs that started racketing her body. She had been holding it in for so long that now it all just bled out of her. While she felt relieved letting it out, now she was worried that Hyde was going to agree with her and dump her right there. Instead, she felt a gentle and loving hand land on her back and guide her to his chest. He could feel her shaking and his heart broke at the sight of her. 

“You’re right,” he said after a while. She swore she felt her heart stop. “You’re nothing like her. You’re better than her.”

She pulled away and looked at him with puffy eyes. “How? She’s so much prettier than me. So much better than me.”

“No, she’s not,” he said and wiped her tears. “She maybe hot, but that’s all she’s got going for her.”

“Not so much anymore,” she croaked. “She’s better now.”

“Yeah, because I made her,” he said. “Doesn’t mean she’s better than you.”

She was silent for a moment before fresh tears filled her eyes. “Steven, why are you with me?”

“Because...you’re real,” he said after a moment of trying to find the right word. “You’re the coolest chick I know. Listen, Y/n, yes I was with Jackie and actually had strong feelings for her and did almost end up asking her to marry me, but she’s nothing compared to you.”

 “Really?”

“Yes, of course, man!” he said and grabbed her hands. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted in a chick. You’re beautiful, you’re smart, you’re strong and can carry a conversation without it involving makeup, bitchy girls, or how hot you look.” Y/n chuckled as Hyde continued. “You like the same music as me and no, you may not be skinny like her, but you’ve got more for me to grab onto than her and I can’t ask for more. And if it’s possible, I think my feelings for you are way stronger than they were with her.”

Y/n gave him a small smile. “Then why do you stare at her the way you do?”

“Because she annoys the crap out of me and I’m wishing she’d just shut up!”

“You were smiling.”

“Oh, Forman was making funny faces behind her and she thought she was the reason why we were laughing. Which made it funnier. I’m surprised you didn’t see that.”

“I had other things on my mind,” she admitted sheepishly and wiped her nose. “So...you’re not in love with her still?”

He kindly smiled at her. “No. Only with you.”

He stopped and his eyes went wide when he realized what he just said. They’ve been together for a bit now, but never said those three words yet.

“Did you just say you loved me?” she whispered. 

“Uh,” he stuttered and wiped his mouth nervously. “Well, uh...crap. I--”

“I love you too.”

He whipped his head towards her. “Really?”

She shook her head nervously.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” she asked. “Because of this. You love me for who I am. And I love you for who you are.”

“Well, uh...this is new,” he said and cleared his throat. 

“What is?”

“I’m not freaking out,” he said and leaned back against the chair. 

She hummed. “Me neither.”

He turned to her with sparkling blue eyes, his heart hammering against his chest. “You must be really friggin’ special then for me to still want to stay after saying all that crap.”

She made a face at him. “How romantic,” she deadpanned.

“No, I mean,” he said and grabbed her hands. “I’m still not used to...saying how I feel. Normally, I try to avoid it completely, but I feel like I can with you.”

“I would sure hope so,” she joked and leaned forward, kissing him. “I feel the same way too.”

He smiled into the kiss as he brought his hand up to her face, cupping her cheek. 

“Thank you, Steven.”

“For what?”

She leaned her forehead against his. “For everything.”

“Anything for you, Doll.”

She brought her lips to his once more and slowly kissed him, relishing in his taste. “You know,” she said and pulled away. “My parents aren’t home. Wanna go to my room?”

“Hell yeah!” 

They fumbled out of the car and hastily made their way upstairs to her room where they remained for the rest of the night.

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

Talk + Vodka = Truth (Marvel AU)

Plot: AU The Avenger caught the blonde stalking him for the past few weeks and he wants answers.

Characters: Hawkeye/Ronin!Changbin (SKZ) x Yelena Belova!Felix (SKZ), plus mention of Black Widow!Minho, Kate Bishop!Yeji, and other MARVEL characters

Rating: PG-13 (Language, spy behaviors, the Snap/the Blip, Red Room, assassin work, death, drinking, mention of PTSD)

Notes: This one shot is based on the MARVEL x SKZ moodboards I’ve been making for fun. The story is set between the events after Black Widow, Avengers: Endgame, and before the Hawkeye Disney+ show. If you’ve not watched the first two films and wish to avoid spoilers, please skip this story. Additionally, the contents of this one-shot are fictional and were created for fun.

Happy Birthday Changbin!

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

“You sure you’re old enough to be here, Kid?”

The blonde rolled his eyes, before reaching into his jacket to produce an ID.

The waiter and the man seated across from him watched as the ID was handed over. The former scanned the front and sighed as he passed it back to the blonde.

“Sorry, guess The Blip screwed you over - you look young for your age,” the waiter apologized. “What can I get you?”

“Vodka,” the blonde replied. “How much for the bottle?”

Changbin raised a brow and stared at the young man seated across from him. This guy could put away a whole bottle of vodka? It didn’t seem right, plus that was pretty unhealthy to be drinking that much. 

“Let me check with the bartender on that,” the waiter said. He turned to face Changbin and asked if he wanted the usual.

“Unless he intends to drink the entire bottle, I’ll take whatever vodka he wants,” Changbin responded.

The waiter excused himself and went to check on the vodka situation.

“Drinking a whole bottle of vodka in one go is bad for your liver,” Changbin noted as he folded his hands in front of him.

The blonde snorted and quipped that Changbin sounded like his brother. The comment made the Avenger raise a brow and he straightened up in his seat.

“The bottle is gonna cost you $35, tip not included,” the waiter announced when he returned.

Before Changbin could grab his wallet, the blonde beat him to it and placed a crumpled $50 into the waiter’s hand. “Keep the change.”

The waiter unfolded the bill and immediately left to grab the bottle and some glasses for serving. The place wasn’t busy for the early to mid-afternoon, but Changbin had a feeling the waiter wasn’t used to getting a larger than average tip during this time. The pair watched as the waiter returned within seconds with the bottle and two glasses.

Changbin flashed the waiter a light smile and told him to take it easy. He slid the bottle closer and opened it, before pouring some of the contents into one glass and nudging it across the table. “So, wanna tell me who the hell you are and why you’ve been stalking me for 2.5 weeks?”

The blonde barely had the glass raised to his lips when he heard the questions. He looked up from his glass and parted his lips slightly in shock. This made the Avenger snicker as he poured some vodka into the other glass for himself.

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

About a month and a half after burying Tony and Minho, Changbin noticed that the same blonde guy would show up in various places around the same time. The guy tried to be less obvious with disguises and using remote ways to track him, but after working with Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. for years, the Avenger’s picked up on people attempting to trail him.

Earlier today, he sensed he was being followed and urged his new protege to take Lucky and get somewhere safe. Sure Yeji gave him lip for trying to protect her, but the last thing he’d want is for her to get killed, thanks to someone hunting for him. Once the young woman had left with the dog, he hung around the area and pulled his bow on the blonde, who had a regular sidearm pointed at him. For a while, he tried urging the blonde to drop the gun before he shot first, but the blonde remained defiant with his gun pointed at the Avenger. What made them stand down was the sound of a siren and the blonde looked a little concerned when he heard the alarm.

Changbin made up his mind and told the young man to follow him so they could get under cover somewhere to finish the matter. He chose this hole-in-the-wall place that he visited at times during The Blip, often sitting and brooding over his missing family in between kills.

The blonde swore in Russian and put his glass down. “All right Old Man, I’ll make this easy for both of us. Name’s Felix. My employer told me you killed my brother and that I’m supposed to bring you in. But before I do that, why did you do it? He was telling me before The Blip that the Avengers were his real family, not me or our parents.”

Changbin tilted his head as he looked closely at the blonde across from him. If the kid wasn’t an assassin, he looked like the good kid you’d find in a suburban neighborhood, probably playing sports and making lots of friends. But the Russian, the mention of his brother again – wait, was this...?

“Min,” he offered in a soft voice.

The blonde nodded sharply and he picked up his glass again. “He’s dead, thanks to you. I’d like to know why you killed him, before I decide if I wanna bring you in dead or alive.”

The Avenger stiffened when he heard the accusation. His partner told him to go for counseling after fighting Thanos, as he was suffering terribly from losing Tony and Minho. Talking to the counselor about Minho was hard and the former couldn’t convince him that it wasn’t his fault that Minho insisted he sacrifice himself for the Soul Stone. Telling his kids that their Uncle Min wasn’t coming home was horrible, as they asked where he was and talked about their favorite memories of the red-haired “uncle” they had come to love.

“Do you know anything about Thanos and the Infinity Stones in that goddamn gauntlet he wore?” Changbin asked after prolonged silence.

When Felix shrugged, Changbin sighed and pushed his glass away as he recounted the attempts to stop Thanos from killing Vision for the Mind Stone, losing everyone he knew, then trying to get the stones again to undo what happened 5 years ago.

“It was the shrinking guy’s idea, some kind of time heist,” Changbin said. “Minho and I went to some planet in space, while the others went elsewhere in time for the other stones. We get there, this creepy red skeleton guy tells us that one of us has to sacrifice ourselves –”

“So you chose my brother?”

“YOH! I wasn’t done talking, you little shit,” Changbin snapped as he narrowed his eyes. He took a deep breath and groaned as he tried to explain what happened next. This was the hard part whenever he went to therapy – it was difficult to talk about Vormir without getting choked up and replaying the images of Minho using a stun function in his cuff to distract him, and Changbin trying to grab his hand to stop the former spy.

“Damn it, I told him I was supposed to do it!” Changbin yelled as he slammed his fist on the table. “He actually tried to keep shit together after The Blip. Me, I, I lost it. I lost my whole family. My partner. My kids. All while we were at home, having a normal day. Then I went out and I hunted down every bad guy, every gang, every criminal organization, everyone that survived and didn’t deserve it!”

The Avenger hung his head and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep it together without crying. He could hear Minho’s voice, urging him to let go of his hand on Vormir.

“Let me go.”

                                        “No. Please don’t.”

“It’s okay...”

The blonde took small sips from his glass as he watched and listened to the Avenger. Despite hating his time in the Red Room, he has to give his instructors some credit for teaching him the art of lying and reading a target’s body language. Based on what he’s seeing right now, the Avenger is telling the truth and Minho actually sacrificed his life to save the world. Which means, his employer lied or she exaggerated the story a bit, just to force him to cut his time off short. It wouldn’t surprise him – Val refused his request for a pay raise before handing over Changbin’s information for his next assignment.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m working for a female version of Dreykov, Felix thought. He put his glass down and stared across the table at the Avenger.

“Surprisingly, I believe you,” Felix replied. “Last time I saw my brother, he was going on about how he was trying to do good and forget about...yeah, well he was telling me how great things were with the Avengers before the Accords.” He played with his glass and tilted his head slightly. “You weren’t...dating my brother, were you?”

Changbin jerked his head up at the question and he paused for a few seconds, before laughing loudly. The blonde shot him a quizzical look and Changbin shook his head as he tried to compose himself.

“Oh man no, no way. Min was my colleague and sometimes, he thought it was funnier to ignore most of the shit I said,” Changbin said. “I swear he did it to piss me off, but other than that, we were friends.” He propped his elbow on the table and looked thoughtful as he recalled their mission in Budapest.

“He ever tell you about Budapest?”

Felix nodded and recounted his story of running from Dreykov’s project, otherwise known as Taskmaster, while protecting a serum to remove the brainwashing effect on the other Widows. “He makes me bleed out a bit, then we’re crammed in an air vent. An air vent. Think I saw tic-tac-toe games scratched inside the vent.”

“Wait, in the subway?”

“You mean it was the same vent you two hid in after you tried to kill Dreykov?” Felix asked. “That must have been...”

“Oh that was a weird three days!” Changbin laughed. “He got so annoyed by me complaining that I was hungry and said I was too loud. Once we got outta Budapest, he complained on the Quinjet that it was amazing I had someone in my life at all. But wait, what do you mean by ‘tried to kill Dreykov’? I thought Min said it was a hit – I saw the building go up in flames after the guy’s daughter went in. Don’t tell me that guy’s your employer.”

Felix made a face and he picked up his glass again.

“We’re going to be here a while...”

[ducktracy]

29. bosko’s party (1932)

release date: april 2nd, 1932

series: looney tunes

director: hugh harman

starring: carman maxwell (bosko), rochelle hudson (honey)

not to be confused with porky’s party (which ends up much more disasterously, though events ARE owed to a dog), bosko’s party has our hero surprising honey for her birthday, a side plot of sorts including wilbur, the cat from bosko’s soda fountain, getting trapped beneath a ceramic flower pot. it seems carman maxwell provides the vocals for bosko this time according to some sources. he does sound slightly different, so i wouldn’t entirely doubt that.

rain can easily dampen any soul, but not bosko’s. he strolls about his merry way while whistling “it ain’t gonna rain no mo’”. evidently he’s in quite the squall! he uses his umbrella as a boat and paddles across the road, keeping a package safe in the umbrella. a gift for honey.

honey herself is getting all dolled up, gingerly putting on mascara. we see her about to get undressed, but not before she notices the audience, gasping and hiding behind the safety of her screen. unbeknownst to her, her efforts are futile as we see her get undressed in the reflection of the mirror. i have a great appreciation for reflections in animation, they’re a nice little detail, especially when the mirror could have just as easily been painted into the background. props for them going the extra mile and giving us this highly amusing gag.

miraculously, the rain has stopped, just in time for bosko to arrive to honey’s house. he rings the door bell and is greeted by honey’s yappy pooch and a hippo guest, who indicates bosko to keep things quiet for the surprise party.

bosko gets the memo, but honey’s dog sure doesn’t. it happily leaps up on bosko, licking him and barking loudly, with all of the party guests shushing it in protest.

honey’s voice becomes audible as we (along with the rest of the gang) hear her sing “london bridge is falling down”. everyone hides in a hurry, including a scene where bosko pops an oversized pig like a balloon and deflated him so he can fit under a bed.

honey’s cat wilbur struggles to find a proper hiding place. bosko helps the very cat who spit vanilla ice cream in his face by removing a flower from a flower pot and placing the pot upside down, over the kitten. in the middle of the floor. i love how impractical and glaringly obvious would be, but hey, it works!

the fated moment comes where honey enters the living room, and immediately everyone springs into a lively chorus of “happy birthday”, frolicking around her. well, everyone except wilbur, who’s stuck under the flower pot. the way these two clips are spliced, the innocent joyous nature of honey’s celebration, and then a bratty cat whining “LEMME OUT! LEMME OUT!” while happy birthday plays in the background is FANTASTIC. IT’S SO FUNNY the timing is solid and the sound effects of the pot hitting the floor are spot on. brats are always funny—this would be a common theme in the 30s, and even 40s. poor porky gets tortured by many a bratty child in his career.

bosko indicates for honey to come hither, and the two become bashful as bosko explains he has a present for her. he displays the box, opening it up...

and out pops honey’s overly affectionate dog! bosko becomes enraged, chasing the pup around the house until it lands in a fish tank. the dog barks underwater, albeit silently. bubbles rise to the surface, and a bark sounds each time they pop. the partygoers cheer in sadistic glee at the pooch’s situation—briefly interrupted by wilbur, who’s still begging to be let out.

bosko pulls the dog to safety. all feelings of affection are absent as the dog shakes water off its fur, marching away heatedly. i’d be pissed too if i tried to show someone some love and got cornered into a fish tank, where people cheered on my potential drowning.

resuming things, bosko shows honey her REAL present, a ukelele. she’s overjoyed, and bosko coyly asks for her to play a song. she plays “sugar”, and the two lovebirds erupt in a musical sequence. as corny as the musical sequences are, i really enjoy them. frank marsales’ score is beautiful, and make the scene chipper and bright. a great mood booster, which was especially needed during the depression.

back to wilbur, who’s still struggling. he manages to knock the flower pot over... but he knocks it over next to a conveniently placed mousetrap, getting his tail caught in it. i guess that’s karma for his torture to bosko in bosko’s soda fountain! i’m almost sad he got freed. occasionally cutting to him yelling “LET ME OUT” complete with all that thumping was hilarious.

satisfied with their musical antics, bosko runs to the kitchen and lights the candles on the cake. we switch between shots of bosko bringing out the cake and wilbur, who’s sticking his head out from the top of the stairs, screaming in pain (to everyone’s oblivion).

everyone cheers as bosko places the cake down, ready to be dissected. wilbur’s tail gets freed from the mouse trap, and he tumbles down...

landing squarely in the cake, icing (and candle) covering bosko. bosko, optimistic as ever, gingerly removes the candle, and the screen fades to black as he blows it out.

particularly entertaining for a bosko cartoon! i’ll say this with every cartoon, but the music was a delight to listen to. bosko and honey were very likable. there really weren’t any pacing issues i could identify off the top of my head. same goes for reused animation: animation was reused as we cut between the partygoers singing happy birthday and wilbur making a clamor, bur it worked really well and made the scene a lot funnier. as always, a lot of fun gags. i didn’t include it in a photo, but there’s a great gag of bosko popping a hippo like a balloon and stuffing his deflated puddle self under the bed. i think it’s worth the watch! it’s certainly one of the better ones we’ve seen.

[thelovers-thedreamers-and-me]

it’s that time of the week so you nerds get a fuck squad recap!

I feel like it’s notable that I have a chart up on my wall now where I can give my players gold stars if they do something really good and creative. So that’s fun and definitely not sparking competition at all!

We started with a discussion of “wailing widows” that I misheard as “whaling widows” and long story short I have a new comic book idea

Sergei, Maddela, and Saida see a crowd of people with weird, distorted faces staring at them. Maddela and Saida get Rhonia to cast Face of the Devourer on them so they fit in, while Sergei covers his eyes to not see them.

Yoni: “I would argue that only friends make each other piss themselves.”

Yoni slams the curtain that Rhonia ripped off the wall into the bag of trading.

“You pull out an old dirty sock.” Saida: Is that someone’s crankin’ it sock? Oh, wait, I can’t say that, you’ll lose followers on tumblr.”

Cue a discussion of that one time I got an anon saying they unfollowed me because of the ghost cum thing.

Saida: “Oh yeah, I remember that.” Sergei: “I don’t but there’s so much I don’t remember.” Saida: “Maybe you should lay off the party drugs.” Sergei: “MAYBE YOU SHOULD LAY OFF MY DICK”

Sergei blindly walks forward to a table in the middle of the room with a chalice on it, and triggers a trap that causes a hidden crossbow to fire at Maddela and an illusion to make it look like he did it.

Rhonia: “I put the crossbow bolt in his hand” “His hands are still over his eyes!”

They conclude that he clearly didn’t do it because dude didn’t even have a crossbow.

There was then some discussion of a poutine pinata which sounds like such a bad idea.

Sergei hits the chalice off the table with his orb and stick with his eyes closed, setting off a bolt of shadow that feels like flame.

Yoni scoops up the chalice with the bag of trading and gets a “not like top tier but about as good as you can get at the fantasy sobeys bottle of wine.” It turns out the door is unlocked and they can just walk through. The next floor is filled with a thick gray mist.

Sergei: “I have my stick out. My STICK.”

Sergei: “I didn’t go to fuckin’ wizard school! I went to clown college!”

Maddela strikes a match to see if the mist in the room they are in is flammable. It isn’t, but I feel like that’s a notably bad idea.

Sergei walks around the perimeter of the room with a rope tied around his waist and finds the door. However, when he tries to open it, a spear of ice springs up from the floor.

Meanwhile, the rest of the squad use the rope to navigate across the room to the door, and come across a weird stone box with a gold key in the bottom. When Rhonia reaches in to get it, a swarm of monkeys are summoned, one of which grabs the key before they scamper away into the mist.

Saida: “Does everyone have a lightning-proof hazmat suit? Because I have a plan!”

spoiler nobody had that

Saida also suggested Maddela melt the ice spear by dirty dancing on it. “Roll a fort save in case you froze your box!”

Maddela does melt the ice spear with some alchemist’s fire, but then immediately triggers another one by trying to unlock the door again.

Rhonia: “I’m just gonna fill the box with bananas!”

She does use her magic lunchbox to fill the pedestal with bananas, which lures all the monkeys in for snacks. After a few horribly bad perception checks, Yoni manages to see that one of the monkeys has the key so she hits it with her starknife and it dies.

Maddela: “How much of your hatred of wizards is part of your history?” Saida: “I had a really bad run in with one once.” Sergei: “Yeah, ran into his dick with your vagina!”

The next room has a table with a mask on it, two poufs on either side, and a door. Saida puts the mask on immediately and it affixes itself to her face and she can’t get it off. When she and anyone else sit on each of the poufs, the other people get a quick lil fortune reading.

Sergei gets told that he’s trusting someone he shouldn’t, so his player was kinda freaking the fuck out the rest of the session. Who is it? Who knows? I’ll never tell. TEE HEE HEE.

(about Rhonia) “You want to help, and you can be very inventive but sometimes you may not think your actions through.”  Saida: “Didn’t need a mask to tell me that!”

(also about Rhonia) “Your god is pleased with you... and so is another.” Yoni: “Better not be Desna! Stay away from my god!” “Other people worship Desna.” Saida: “And Yoni’s going to cut them all!”

Saida: “You know how there’s visual learners and audio learners? Maddela’s a vaginal learner.”

The next room is set up like a museum, with a huge T-Rex skeleton in the centre and glass display cases lining the walls.

Sergei: “This is the necromancy room and there’s a giant skeleton in the middle. I’m so excited. Not.”

He crosses to the door and touches it, which wakes the T-rex that attacks the squad.

“Does a 22 hit?” Maddela: “No.” “Oh, cool.” Maddela: “I’M STILL LYING!”

Maddela uses her wand of binding to bind the T-Rex while she runs to go unlock the three locks on the door.

Yoni: “I do one, uh, blunt damage” which brought him to 69. Nice.

Yoni: “Does anyone have ropes to tie his feet together?” Saida: “This is like turning into a caper, i love it.”

The rest of the squad beat it up, but then it reforms into two smaller T-Rex skeletons.

Saida:"That giant dinosaur lizard will never know the satisfaction of eating poop again. Because it’s dead.”

Saida: “Don’t you have, like, healing blast?” “Oh, you mean healing gun.”

Saida: “I haven’t been listening to how Yoni’s class works.” “It’s cool, neither has she.”

“You’re being very strategic tonight. Are you feeling okay?”

Rhonia animated one of the smaller T-rexes and named it Jonesy, so that’s a thing now. They tied up the other one instead of killing it so it didn’t reanimate as more smaller boys. God they can be smart on occasion.

Saida: “Apparently my bloodline gives me a bonus to knowledge religion. But I don’t want it because that sounds dumb.”

They move on to the next room, where the first-level wizard apprentice who was manning the door watches them stomp on in with a new t-rex pal and decides to let them go to see the council once they’re done with the meeting that they’re having.

Presented with the opportunity to get what they want in about ten minutes if they just wait peacefully, the squad all gangs up to try and kick down the door and all roll terribly.

Coming out of the door is Tarand, who, from what they can hear, has had some sort of ideological disagreement with the rest of the wizards and is resigning from his position here.

Saida: “We’re never gonna get as high level as he is because all we do is SHOP and FUCK”

she’s not WRONG

Saida, trying to figure out if he’s been exposed to the mushroom spores: “are you feeling hepatitis-y?”

Sergei: “Have you had to roll any saving throws?” Tarand: “I’m a very powerful wizard. I know what that feels like. I have not.”

He is very confused when they ask about the mushrooms and refuses to tell them why he’s leaving, so Yoni Flapdragon, in a fit of anger, punches him in the dick. And almost crits. It isn’t confirmed so it only does 3 damage, but still. That’s a thing they’ll have to deal with later.

They go in to meet the wizard council, who did just watch Yoni punch Tarand right in the dingalings. Most of them also don’t know much about the mushrooms, except one halfling with a wrinkled face named Effin who tells them that she had been working on something similar, but it didn’t work out so she sent it to the toxic waste disposal. When the squad points out that pretty much anyone can get in there, there’s a bit of confusion- there are supposed to be a bunch of curses and things protecting it.

“Academia, you know how it is.” Rhonia: “Isn’t that a nut?”

Saida’s player, tearing up laughing: “I’m just thinking of how much funnier every fantasy genre would be if there was bullying!”

Saida and Yoni stay behind to chat with the council, while Maddela, Sergei, and Rhonia go up to the greenhouse to get some of the asinus densissima flower to put an end to all this.

Maddela: “I don’t know anything about wizards and I’m not about to learn!”

Saida, trying to chat up the head of enchantment by talking about the school of magic: “Of course I know what enchantment is, it’s when you kinda rub magic on some pants and it sticks.”

He’s not impressed by her magic knowledge.

Maddela proceeds to buy some poison from the greenhouse, which has mushrooms visibly covering some of the glass panes. While Effin makes a deal with her, Rhonia gets Jason the skeleton to climb up onto Jonesy the T-rex skeleton and throw a trowel, breaking the glass of the ceiling and letting the mushrooms in.

SO THAT’S COOL

[cryingbilldenbrough]

*kicks down your door* Prompt: Bill gets hit on by people who are not the Losers club. At first he's like ha ha funny joke, until it's not that funny anymore bc the people that tend to like Bill Denbrough, that are draw in by his charismatic aura, are always a little too zealous, take it a little too seriously & Bill is like ok. Stop this now. He's literally hand picked by the cosmic forces of Good, thats bound to attract a lot of parasitic personalities. Basically, love spell gone wrong trope.

FUCK! why u do this to me!

(send me prompts/headcanons!)

ok so yeah you’re right, bill thinks it’s funny the first few times. he’s used to being looked up to, from the way georgie spills adoration from his pores every time bill so much as ruffles his hair to the way eddie kaspbrak, eight years old and smaller than the rest of the boys in their grade, very seriously tells bill he would jump off a bridge if bill asked him to, front tooth missing. 

little richie tozier won’t look bill directly in the eyes the first time they meet, stares down at his battered converse the whole time he asks if he can go swimming with bill and eddie and stan in the quarry after school. bill assumes the kid is naturally shy until he hears the way richie rips stan a new one over the way he folds his clothes before jumping in and richie spends the afternoon trying desperately to dunk eddie and get his hair wet. 

but bill turns fifteen and wonders when hesitant admiration and brotherly love turned into whispers behind hands and eyes that track him as he walks down the hallway. 

he bends over to drop his books in his locker, sliding his english textbook in next to a copy of Catcher In The Rye that Richie lent him last week, and when he straightens there’s a senior girl leaning on the locker next to his. her bubblegum smells like strawberry and she leans forward into bill’s personal space, snapping her mouth and narrowing her eyes at his hesitance. 

“you got a date for prom, debrough?” she asks and bill shakes his head nervously. he wonders how she knows his name. 

“i-i’m only a s-s-sophomore” bill replies, eyes darting down the hallway in search of a familiar face. eddie should be getting out of chemistry any minute and rounding the corner and bill hopes desperately he didn’t get sidetracked by richie or stan.

“i’ll get you in,” she says in reply and before bill can open his mouth to respond she’s sticking a note in the front pocket of his shirt and popping her gum. “you can pick me up at eight. my dress is pink,”

bill’s mom’s eyes light up when he goes home and tells her about his date, asking tentatively if she’ll take him shopping for a suit. she pinches his cheeks and marvels at how grown-up he is and her attention is enough to make bill forget about the way the girl’s narrowed eyes had made bill feel like a cornered animal. 

the note in his pocket feels like lead and when he unfolds it, it has the senior’s telephone number written in glittery pen. she’s kissed the paper too, waxy and shiny with lipgloss that smells so strongly of mango it makes bill feel sick. he drops the note on the top of his dresser and instead of excitement, anxiety swirls in his stomach all night. 

richie finds the entire situation hilarious when bill tells the gang at lunch the next day, begging bill to tell him all about the night when he gets back. in fact, the whole group seems to find it a lot funnier than bill does, joking about bill getting drunk off punch at the dance and going to some upperclassmen party afterwards to “get in her pants, bill! well, dress”

“shut up, richie,” eddie says and bill thinks he has a friend on his side who finds the whole situation as wrong as he does but then eddie turns to him and offers to help bill pick out a corsage for her. 

the night of prom, bill gets ready alone. his mom leaves his suit hanging on the back of his bedroom door and he stares at it for half an hour, trying to psych himself up enough to try it on. his mom found a pink bowtie, pale and already tied, and hung it over the hanger and the color reminds him of the girl’s bubblegum. 

bill takes a shower, letting hot steam fill the bathroom, and then gets dressed with the door closed and the room still humid. his wet hair brushes the collar of the suit, staining the grey material dark, and he slicks it back. he fumbles the tie on, sweating in the heat, and he wipes the condensation away from the mirror. 

he looks like a kid playing dress up. his skin is smooth and unblemished, a blessing throughout puberty that he maintains he doesn’t deserve, and his suit is too big for his narrow shoulders.

bill knows there is no world where someone could mistake him for an adult, no way the senior girl is going to look at him and see anything but a teenager trying to be something he’s not. 

she picks him up in her car, an old beater that shudders when she goes over 35 mph, and her dress is a very different shade of pink than bill’s bowtie. her blonde hair is piled atop her head, curling around and framing her face and bill feels ridiculous with his wet hair and shiny shoes. 

“you want a smoke?” she asks, cracking open the window and lighting up a camel. bill’s only ever smoked with the losers, knees huddled to their chests as they hide in the clubhouse, and he shakes his head at her. he wonders for a moment who she gets to buy them for her and then remembers she’s probably eighteen and able to purchase them herself.

she smokes the entire way to the dance, only cracking the window enough to let a small amount of smoke drift out and by the time they’re pulling up to the school bill is lightheaded and drowsy. 

“i’ll let you in the side door,” she says, opening her door with a squealing sound and locking it behind her. bill takes a deep breath and gets out of the car, watching as she walks through the gym doors. she pauses and fishes a ticket out of her purse which she flashes at the teacher at the door. bill skirts around the edge of the gym, passing by drunken teens. he finds the side door and waits by it nervously, fingering his bowtie and sticking his hands deep in his pockets. 

“denbrough!” he hears and jerks his head up to see the senior girl waving him over. he jogs to her, careful not to trip in his new shoes, and makes his way into the dance. 

the gym is covered in streamers, some hanging limply and torn, and there’s a DJ blasting music through the PA. the girl leads bill towards her group of friends, a couple girls bill doesn’t recognize and their dates. he knows one of the boys is the captain of the baseball team and he regards bill with cool brown eyes. bill tries not to look weak, to look young.

for the most part, the dance is boring. the senior girl doesn’t make him dance with her, which bill is immensely thankful for because while stan offered to teach him ballroom moves, the rest of the kids seem to be grinding against each other in ways that make bill blush. the only turn in the evening comes when the girl nudges him, sticking a flask into his hands. 

“i stole some vodka from my dad’s stash” she whispers to him, somehow so loud over the thrum of the music. bill looks down at the flask in his hands, shining silver in the light of derry high school’s sad looking disco ball, and gives it back to her with a shake of his head. 

“i thought you were cool, denbrough,” she says, narrowing her eyes at him. she tips the bottle back and swallows a long gulp before gasping and wincing. she downs the whole thing after a quick breath, squeezing her mascara eyes shut and sticking the flask back into her purse. her cheeks look alight already, warm and alive and bill is suddenly afraid of her. 

there’s a softening behind her eyes as the alcohol takes hold, an inhibition letting loose and bill takes a step backwards as her gaze wracks over his gray suit. she takes a step towards him, slow and almost stupid, and runs a hand through his now dry hair. it makes his bangs fall over his forehead and bill feels so young and so old at the same time. 

“you gonna be cool, denbrough?” she says, slurring just a little bit, and bill panics. her breath smells like smoke and cheap alcohol and strawberry gum and her eyes have an evil in them that bill doesn’t immediately recognize from anywhere specific but it alights a flight response in him. he backs away quickly and runs straight into a solid body. he spins and looks up to see his PE teacher standing behind him and the teacher’s eyes light up with recognition. before the man can say anything, bill is darting away. 

he runs out through the front doors, past the history teacher taking tickets and past the seniors who shout rude things at his pale face. 

he considers going back to the senior girl’s car, to at least have somewhere to hide and calm down, but remembers she locked it. he doesn’t want to be anywhere near her anyway, so afraid of the infatuation in her eyes, so he runs for the road instead. his house is only a few blocks away, anyway. 

then he remembers the look on his mom’s face when he told her about the dance, and figures going home now would only disappoint her. he’s disappointed her enough. 

he finds himself turning down stan’s street. the houses look big and empty in the moonlight, windows dark and dead. the trees whisper in the wind, leftover chill from the winter that has just ended. bill wraps his arms tight around himself, wishing he thought to bring a jacket to wear over his suit, and scuffs his shoes on the ground as he turns down stan’s driveway.

the uris house is still light, homey and inviting, and bill doesn’t even ring the doorbell. the front door isn’t locked anyway, not on a night like tonight, and bill lets himself in silently. he deposits his shoes on the rug next to the door and slinks down the hall to stan’s room. 

he doesn’t knock, afraid to disturb the weird peace that is settled over stan’s home, and enters without warning. stan is asleep, curled up with his spine facing bill, and he shucks his jacket off and sets it on stan’s desk chair. he sinks down onto the floor at the foot of stan’s bed and waits for stan to wake naturally. 

“bill? is that you?” stan’s voice is rough from sleep, croaking out quietly. he sits up and bill turns to look at him. his skin is smooth, pale in the light that shines through his bedroom window, and he looks young. he looks as young as bill feels and it’s weirdly comforting. “dance didn’t go well?” stan asks, rubbing his eyes. 

bill considers lying. he’s sure he would have if stan were richie. he would have made up some story about making out with the senior girl in the back of her beater if it meant richie would laugh and call him an animal. but stan’s eyes are warm and bill feels weak and alone. 

he shakes his head, loosens his tie, and looks down at his socked feet. stan tuts his tongue and waits a beat before bill hears him slap the bed next to him. 

“well, climb up,” stan says and bill doesn’t hesitate. he untucks his shirt and takes it off, leaving him in just his undershirt. stan’s wearing a set of matching pajama pants that look incredibly soft and bill leaves his slacks on. he doesn’t care if they get wrinkled because he has no desire to ever wear them again. 

“what happened?” stan asks, voice quiet. bill tells him all about the night, about the girl basically propostitioning him drunkenly. stan doesn’t say anything for a long time. 

“should i have wanted to?” bill asks finally, turning on his side to regard stan in the darkness. stan furrows his brow and looks incredibly considering and bill loves when his friends do things seriously for him. 

“that’s up to you, bill,” stan responds and bill sighs. he snuggles further into stan’s sheets, letting his friend’s familiar scent wash over him and cleanse every memory of the girl’s strawberry gum from his nostrils.  

“i just wish people didn’t want things from me all the time,” bill says to the open air, curling his toes into stan’s sheets. stan doesn’t respond and bill turns to see him asleep already, eyelashes fanning out over his cheeks. time has stolen the freckles from his nose and bill misses them, misses the way they got darker in the summer sun. 

bill falls asleep with stan’s breath blowing over his face and vows to never trust admiration ever again. 

[johnandrasjaqobis]

hey! i know you're a big fan of x6, and i'm gearing up to possibly include him in a Thing i'm planning with a partner, but i also know that canon doesn't develop him enough. i'm planning on hitting up YT vids for reference, but what are your fav fic reccs for him? and/or your fave tumblr post metas and/or headcanons in general, that'd be great too /fingerguns and slides out of here

I do in fact love the scary Courser man, I love him a lot and always love to see him in more things. Canon definitely dropped the ball on him -- the hints we got were pretty great, but that was pretty much it.

so boy let’s see

(I’ll throw it under a cut because it got long)

There are very sadly few fics, as I’m sure you know, but the body electric is one of my favorites, and it has a ton of great stuff on Coursers in general. I mean pretty much everything by @nomette is fantastic, and maybe they will also have some suggestions to add on?

most of my tag for him (which is just ‘x6′) is art and some headcanons from nomette, if you ever need some inspiration that way

Here is one post I did about him and kind of Coursers in general that I ended up really liking.Here is another that someone else did with just general meta that is A+

As for just thoughts/headcanons in general (and given how little we know, almost everything is a headcanon with that guy).....there is evidence that he’s both afraid of heights and bugs. I love that. It’s only shown in like, little bits of dialogue, but I love the seemingly mundane fears that this otherwise unshakable guy has -- fears that he, of course, will try so hard to never let show, because Coursers aren’t afraid.

He’s got such a ridiculously dry sense of humor. Something, again, vaguely hinted at, but the exchange of, “Jesus, that’s a mouthful.” “Then talk fast, ma’am.” comes to mind. Most of the time it’s suppressed, but there are some comments that he just genuinely doesn’t register as something like a joke, which tends to make it even funnier.

The guy is ridiculously loyal. To the Institute, obviously, but to the Survivor by extension, and if it’s someone that treats him like something more than a weapon, there’s a potential for that loyalty to shift if theirs does.It’s still not going to be an easy feat. The Institute is literally everything he has, they made him, they decide to keep him alive, keeping the interests of the Institute safe is the entire reason for his existence. Like, tbh, I think it would be really hard to get him to side with anyone who decided to destroy the Institute without them being undercover and earning his trust for a very long time. The simplest way to manage it is to send him away before sabotaging everything, because he can’t go down with the ship if he isn’t on the ship.Then, of course, it’d be a matter of convincing him that he’s still someone without the Institute, that he hasn’t lost all purpose in life, but y’know, it’s complicated.

In a less game-supported train of thought, he does not like most dogs. They feel too uncontrolled, they drool too much, they just kind of go everywhere.On the flip side, he finds that he really appreciates cats.

Like any gen-three, he loves Fancy Lads. But he hates that they get powder all over his coat. They leave evidence.

He’s the only Courser who wears sunglasses constantly. He thinks his eyes being so blue takes away some of the intimidation factor, and sunglasses are the perfect way to hide any stray emotions that might slip through for a second.

It’s my own personal fic headcanon, but I think he was the Courser (and the only Courser) they sent to take out the Switchboard.They didn’t need more than the one with a small battalion of gen-twos.

Part of the reason he loves it when you agree not to tell the Institute about Acadia (which is just a whole huge thing on its own) is because he remembers Chase. Not very well, but he remembers the hushed whispers that went around the synths and, to some extent, the Coursers, when she escaped.He remembers a very small part of him hoping they never found her.

Related, X6 does believe in his job. He does understand the synth’s fear of reclamation, because he understands the fear of that chair all too well himself, but he also thinks that the surface is the actual worst thing that can happen to someone. Bringing the synths back might mean they get reset, but it also saves them from facing a fate worse than death in the Commonwealth.But it’s different with Coursers.When Coursers escape, a very small part of him -- a part he tries not to consciously acknowledge -- is rooting for them. Coursers can survive the surface, whatever it throws at them, and as hellish as it may be up there, they won’t fall victim to a simple raider gang or an angry radstag. Harkness was before his time, something that is only discussed now in the middle of the night patrols, in hushed tones, spoken like a myth (and for all they know, it might be). Chase was more recent. Neither were caught.They know neither were caught, because if they had been, they know it would have been made into a huge display, a blinding example of the Institute’s control.And X6 hopes, without every acknowledging that he hopes, they never will be.

i just

i have a lot of thoughts about this scary robot man

i can’t even just say he’s a good egg because he’s terrifying, he can and has wiped out entire settlements to get one synth back, but

i love him so much and i will always rant about him if you ever want to bounce ideas

[ramajmedia]

10 Jokes From Cheers That Have Already Aged Poorly | ScreenRant

The contemporary culture of the 1980s was a whole world of difference away from the 2010s, and Cheers feels incredibly dated when you consider a lot of its jokes. While the series is ageless in its legacy, the younger fanbase of today will definitely have a hard time swallowing some of Cheers’ pills.

RELATED: 10 Things That Make No Sense In Cheers

Mainly, it’s because people have become more sensitive to certain things nowadays, and without the context of living in the 1980s or being aware of the culture at the time, these 10 jokes have aged very poorly indeed. The important thing to remember, though, is to have an open mind and accept that today’s way of thinking is a lot different from before.

10 "Don't You Ever Hit Me Again!"

It should go without saying that a man laying his hands on a woman is very bad, let alone having a main character from a TV show slap a woman in the face. But in the second season finale of Cheers, this is exactly what we saw.

RELATED: 10 Things Frasier Did Better Than Cheers

Here, Diane and Sam had a huge fight, one that spilled to insane levels of physicality. Diane would instigate the violence when she slapped Sam for being too mean with his words; to her immense surprise, Sam slapped her back. The two would then go back and forth with hitting one another, which was a sequence that was meant to be funny because of how childish they looked, but today it just makes us incredibly uncomfortable.

9 Rebecca Locked In The Vent By Carla

To be fair, even in the date that this episode aired this shouldn’t have been very funny. Carla was famous for being the meanest character on TV, but she crossed the line between funny and downright cruel.

In this episode, Rebecca opened up a vent in Cheers for repairs and headed inside to see what the problem was. Carla thought she’d be funny and lock Rebecca inside the confined space. Poor Rebecca was trapped in there for so many hours that she was still stuck by the episode’s end, and none of the other characters did anything to help her. In fact, Carla had even meaner things to say while she had Rebecca locked up.

8 "Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures."

Funnily enough, this was meant to be a progressive episode back in 1982, where we saw the topic of orientation come up. Looking back now, Norm, Cliff, and the rest of the patrons look like complete jerks because they felt insulted that men who weren’t interested in women were in the bar.

They assumed two effeminate men to be their targets and drove them out, only to find out the men they were after had been among them the whole time. It was meant to showcase how ignorant Norm and the others were, but nowadays the jokes come across as more mean-spirited than anything else.

7 "I'm Going To Steal Your Girlfriend."

Henri was Woody’s girlfriend’s friend from France, whose real motive was to steal her from Woody to leech off her riches. As it happened, Henri arrived at Cheers along with Kelly, where he openly told Woody that he would steal Kelly from him. 

RELATED: 10 Things You Didn’t Know About That ‘80s Show

Perhaps it was funnier back then that a guy would tell the boyfriend how he was planning on stealing the girl, but today it comes across as Kelly being very insensitive toward how uncomfortable Woody was. Henri would even be very touchy-feely with Kelly in front of Woody, but this was still supposed to be something funny rather than inappropriate.

6 "And Then, I Turned 11."

In this scene, the guys were clowning Rebecca for being a daddy’s girl. Rebecca’s truth came out in that she was still paid a stipend from her father despite being a woman in her 30s, and the gang didn’t let her hear the end of it. Frasier in particular feigned being on her side, only to tell her he was paid a stipend as well, until he turned 11.

RELATED: Big Bang Theory: 10 Hilarious Sheldon Memes That Are Too Funny

Sure, Rebecca was irresponsible for not taking control of her finances, but since today's audiences are likely to be more sympathetic to financial woes, they’ll likely take Rebecca’s side for wanting her father to support her financially.

5 "Well, You Never Hurt Me, Did You!?"

Another instance of Cheers broaching a little too close into male abuse territory, we're pretty certain audiences today won’t be very sympathetic to Frasier’s anger toward Diane. He was dumped by her way back in Season 3, but was still holding a grudge in the Season 11 finale. 

RELATED: Big Bang Theory: 10 Times Amy And Penny Were Friendship Goals

When he saw Diane again, Frasier initially attempted to be cool, but then unknowingly started to hurt Diane by squeezing her shoulders too tight. Of course, Frasier's actions weren't intended to cause physical harm, but it's still something that probably wouldn't (and shouldn't) be included in a modern American sitcom.

4 "...There Is No Other Part."

Sam’s characterization seemed to be about how good-looking he was and how much he liked to be among the ladies, apart from which he didn’t have anything else; Sam realized this as well.

When Woody was disappointed that Sam had let him down, he claimed he had idolized the latter except for his two most well-known traits, leading to Sam quipping there were no other parts to him. Today, people would just condemn Sam for his debauchery, and call him shallow for being so superficial. He definitely was just that, but back then it was passed off as charmingly funny.

3 "Hunting For Snipe."

The gang at the bar liked to play rough, there’s no question about that. And when Frasier tried to integrate among them, they went extra mean. Taking Frasier out in the woods, they had him “hunt snipe," (which doesn't exist), and then left him out there. 

RELATED: Friends: 7 Reasons Ross And Rachel Really Were On A Break (& 3 Reasons They Weren’t)

It was a simple practical joke at the time, but that was what bullies called it back then. Clearly, Frasier wasn’t someone equipped to survive outdoors, and he had to fight his way back to the bar where he found the others laughing at his gullibility. Fortunately, bullying isn’t thought to be as funny as it was back then.

2 "It Is Not In A Man's Nature To Sit Alone And Be Passive And Docile."

Yikes. This one's so bad we can't make a clear argument for including the full quote, which is incredibly misogynistic. Here, Cliff would argue with Diane that women were the ones meant to stay at home and indulge themselves in stuff like culture and nurturing, while men were meant to be hunters. 

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The irony was that Cliff was clearly in the wrong, as Norm seated next to him refused to move an inch because he was lazy. However, anybody viewing the episode for the first time today would be inclined to overlook the punchline and latch onto Cliff’s ignorance of women, which we’ll agree was very striking.

1 "Goodnight Everyone!"

There’s practical jokes and bullying, but a whole new word has to be made for Carla’s cruel treatment of Cliff. There were times where she made sure Cliff was physically in pain, and this one was the worst of the lot.

Here, Cliff mistakenly set an attack dog onto himself by using its attack word; Carla called its owner to ask how to get the dog to calm down. When she was told the word, instead of rescuing Cliff (who was being chewed out by the sounds of his anguishes of pain), she bid everyone goodnight and left the bar so that Cliff would possibly get mauled to death. Nothing about this comes across as funny at all, instead we’re left hoping someone would throw Carla in jail for what she did.

NEXT: Supernatural: 10 Times The Show Broke Our Hearts

source https://screenrant.com/10-jokes-cheers-already-aged-poorly/

[realfitreallife]

Every shortie needs a tall person in their life!

Listen, they don’t call me chatterbox for nothing. I am very social. I meet all sorts of people and I try to keep my circle diverse. I have learned that people who walk a different path then yours, tend to make for interesting conversation. 

So this is how I am going to introduce you to April. 

HER NICKNAME IS APRIL I have to clarify hers because April could be a name where as the rest of my friends have goofy names but APRIL IS APRIL BC SHE IS the tallest in our gang. Probably a foot taller then me...or something...ok not quite a foot but you know TALL. April the giraffe had been a huge news topic and well sometimes your friends can be real assholes and give you a nickname about something you are a little sensitive about. It comes from a good place, but you know April it is.

Literally social and outgoing just as I am, which is why I was drawn to her but our past lives and even our moral compass and ideals are vastly different as our perspectives in life. However she is someone I know that will do anything and everything she can to help, and be supportive of those around her.

MY favorite thing in the WHOLE world about April is her laugh. She has one of those, really loud, bottom of the belly, full teeth baring laughs. She can be a little sensitive about it so I hope she knows this comes from a good place but its instant laughs when she laughs. It makes everything funnier.

April is a little scatterbrained, or a lot, she just gets really excited about stuff going on around her and forgets other not so exciting stuff around her. She is a what I call a busybody. Hang with me...she is the type of person who is into everything, has to be busy, has to be doing something ALL THE TIME, EVERY TIME, WITH ALL THE FRIENDS. Preferably something active and outside as she loves adventure. It’s kinda funny because she is married to the Musician who couldn’t be more different then her. He doesn’t care to be out and about, sweating is a no no and he’d rather just hang out at home before going anywhere. They make it work but the dynamic gets wonky from time to time. They are an interesting couple to watch too. She will be talking about the next big adventure she wants to take and her husband’s face is already telling everyone around him that she is crazy and he has no idea how he got himself attached to a someone who’s SO busy all the time but he will eventually concede because when you marry a wild woman you know that their spirit needs the room to run. She is also the one that will do whatever it takes to brighten someone’s day, or make them laugh. She can pick up on someone’s mood and will do random acts of kindness and silliness to try to bring someone’s spirit back upright. 

Me and the musician at my birthday dinner!

Now when you have a group of women, you tend to have several that are alike in certain ways, and then these two have these qualities in common. Bubble and April are more alike personality wise, mainly because they are “Girly Girls.” A little more high maintenance, often dramatic, and a little more sensitive about the small stuff then the rest of us but I think the best thing about MY two diva friends is that they don’t shy away from my non girlishness. Some women tend to be put off by the fact that I don’t come off the same way they do but April and Bubble seem to accept that I am just not as girly as them and they are ok with it. 

Just to fill you in, I don’t shop until I have to go shopping. I prefer to wait till I am down to my last pair of anything resembling clothing before I hit the mall to shop, I find exactly what I am looking for, I MIGHT try it on just to be sure but then I am done and out of there. However shopping with April is not so quick. I will never forget that poor retail guy in the outdoor shop that was doing anything and everything he could to make her happy and after she had tried on her bike shoes for the 100th time, she was OK with it. I was the “Typical” husband in that situation, literally pulling my hair out because I was just ready to go. To be honest, I am always like a typical male in those situations because I don’t like crowds of people, or shopping, or looking at clothes or trying on clothes LOL so it wasn’t her fault. I just don’t shop with her anymore, and probably won’t with bubble either haha but that’s ok because they have each other to shop with and I can tag along on other adventures! 

Every gang has to have its “pink ladies”! These two are awesome women, awesome momma’s and even better friends!! So blessed to have them both in my life and have them both have my back!

[tanginae]

Modern!Tropang Nerds Headcannons, Part II

part I / III / IV

PLACIDO: 

His eyes are such a dark shade of brown that many people think they're black, but when the light hits 'em just right; it's breathtaking. His eyebags are from late nights studying. Has short eyelashes, but his eyebrows are the envy of everyone (#OnFleek bitch). His eyes burn with the ferocity of an inferno when he's mad; radiate warmth when he's happy, and become as cool as metal when he's indifferent. In short, they're pretty expressive

His nose is flat; which everyone notices since they can't look him in the eye in sheer fear

He has really plump lips, which explains why he loves biting on it so much. That's also the reason why it's so red all the god damn time

Lip biting is his nervous tick. When he's especially antsy, he doesn't notice he's drawn blood until someone tells him

He's got the whole Probinsyano charm about him

He tries to keep a rein over his emotions most of the time, but little slivers of emotion slip out once in a while. He never blushes because of kilig, instead, it's because he's pissed as fuck and you should probably book the fuck out of there

He doesn't own a planner, but this guy actually remembers every. single. god damn. thing he has to do

The type to do something even if he hates it, swallowing every complaint he has just as long as it doesn’t compromise his personal dignity

does a thing quickly just to get it done quickly 

Has probably read the entirety of a Terms & Conditions statement at least once

He sighs to express his emotions

He's smart and he knows it; which may slightly come off as arrogance to other people

But hey, he can walk the talk

Gets all philosophical at 2 am, when he's drunk (which rarely happens), when he reads a particularly good book, or when he's emotional

He carries his clothes really well and it drives everyone of every gender nuts, he can literally make anything look good

Hates public humiliation with a burning passion; it's probably the only thing that can make him cry

Actually really cares a lot about what other people say about him, and no matter how sneaky they are or how quiet their whispers were, he knows. He never retaliates though; only when the rumors hit below the belt

He's an esteemed person, so anything that shits on that is a definite no from him

He will literally argue with someone to no end when he's right and until he wins

Remember that one student in your class who won't stop pestering the teacher about a correction in a test? That's him.

Most likely to be a sore loser

Procrastinates like no other, but only because once he starts on something, he won't be able to stop

Momma's Boy™

Breaks down like any other normal student, probably more than anyone, but only when no one is around to see

Angry crier but he won't admit it

Has the patience of a saint but will turn into the fucking devil when that wears thin

Might have started a fist fight once but immediately regretted it after

Fucking Extra™ when he's mad as fuck, nobody is able to console him (his mother is the only person who can relatively take him down a notch, but it still isn't enough)

Has the tendency to lash out at anyone regardless of his relationship with them

Needs to walk his anger/bad mood off or else it'll literally wreck him and/or the people around him

That is also probably why he has an uncanny knowledge of side streets and shortcuts and is a Pro™ at navigation

He can and he will deck a person flat when he needs to

Lowkey turns to tsokolate (eh) to cheer him up on a bad day. Screw coffee, fuck tea. Tsokolate's the real deal

His smile can cure cancer, especially since it's so rare

No bf/gf, no problem

#AcadsB4Lakads

He's really interesting to talk to, especially since the topics range from the pettiest things to the deepest, most profound shit you’ve ever heard. He gets all deep and philosophical real quick, and it's like a different side of him no one's ever seen. You know he loves talking about it since he seems so much more relaxed and at ease

JUANITO:

Cannot take a goddamn hint

Since he's 25% Spanish (yes I still stand by this lmao), he has really light brown eyes that pretty much shocked the fuck out of Placido the first time he saw it, because holy hell are they pretty. Long and thick lashes frame them, making him look like he's perpetually wearing mascara and eyeliner. Very wide and expressive, always glinting with a hint of mischief. He closes his eyes when he plays the violin, feeling the music he's creating and just soaking it all up

His nose is the envy of most. Matangos eh lol

His upper lip is slightly thicker than his lower lip. He's perpetually smiling, so this tends to go unnoticed

His smile is either a literal ray of sunshine or a demon's grin right before he pulls you in. there's honestly no in-between

His laugh is ridiculously fucking loud (and annoying) but it's also pretty hilarious. It's the kind of laugh that's contagious and is often funnier than his jokes

When he laughs, he completely loses his shit. There's no holding him back, it all just explodes and gushes out of him

He's also the type to laugh during sex lmao

He always has this cunning, almost threatening look that makes the people who know about his pranks fear for their lives. It can only mean trouble

Also, his smile is slightly lopsided; which makes him look cheekier

But, it also adds to his charm

He reeks of money and privilege, but the only time he remotely manifests his rich boy status is when he treats Placido his friends to lunch or dinner or a midnight snack

A total "samahan mo 'ko, ililibre kita" person

Probably has a huge sweet tooth, which explains why he's so hyperactive all the damn time

Has a short attention span, and when he actually pays attention to something/someone it's because he's genuinely interested

It also comes as a shock to everyone when he pays attention

Rarely listens to crappy pop songs. He has an array of classical music, movie scores, and instrumental pieces in his playlist

His numerous connections make sure he gets around fairly easy

He's also really amiable, pranks aside. Everyone pretty much knows him

He knows everyone. From the lady at the store to the guard at the farthest building on campus, he knows them. By name.

Actually a huge gossip monger

He's the one who introduced Placido to Makaraig and the gang because he thought the dude needed more friends

Can pull off ridiculously elaborate and Extra™ pranks that otherwise might get him in huge trouble, but he manages to get away with it

A little insensitive

But, he can catch on when someone's feeling like shi t

He tries to cheer them up, but, Juanito being Juanito somehow ends up offending them in one way or another

Feels slightly trapped when he has to act all perfect son-ish for his dad

The fact that his father has so many expectations for him actually puts a lot of pressure on his shoulders, he just hates showing it

Wishes he had a sibling to split the pressure with (also to test his pranks on)

Music is his language. Whatever he wants to say, he says it through playing his violin. Sad? Happy? Mad? He plays. You can always tell what he's feeling by listening to his pieces

(if anyone was actually around to hear it)

Placido was, once. The rawness of the notes and the way the music seemed to be reaching into the deepest hollows of his soul freaked him out a bit, but he didn't say anything. He was surprised Juanito was capable of demonstrating other emotions and feelings rather than happiness. It made him see Juanito in a completely different light

When Juanito opened his eyes to see Placido standing there, he was pretty stunned himself. Placido was unaware of the fact that he was freaking out because holy shit he saw me someone saw me someone heard me what is he going to think now but he shrugged it off with an easy smile and a casual question: "So. Why are you here?"

Placido understood it was something Juanito didn't want to talk about, so he blinked at Juanito blankly as if his heart didn't just grow a soft spot for him. "I thought we were going to study?"

Placido couldn't help himself. "That was pretty good, by the way."

Juanito pretty much short-circuited then and there. He thanked every saint he knew Placido walked out of the room after that, because he wasn't able to see him go red all over, flushed as fuck with his fingers shaking as he tucked away his instrument 

i got carried away oops

he was forced to take Violin lessons as a kid, but he fell in love with it unexpectedly along the way 

Lowkey crushing on Placiding

Gets pretty lonely

Probably hasn't cried in the last 10 years, but when he does, he's a fucking mess. Definitely an ugly crier