#he’s going to do fucked up shit that’ll disappoint you

[jewishbarbies]

“Superman isn’t supposed to be getting arrested for DUIs” “I’m so disappointed, my childhood is ruined”

he didn’t kill someone?? yes, it’s dangerous and irresponsible to drive drunk, but if you didn’t know it was a DUI you’d think he straight up murdered someone with his bare hands. maybe take a break from the internet. we don’t know celebrities, and playing Clark Kent in an early 00’s cw show does NOT make you Superman. he’s a human, clearly flawed man who fucked up and will face consequences for those actions in the public eye for the rest of his life. stop idolizing human beings and crashing out when they do human fucked up shit. his actions are obviously bad, but you don’t need to hold a funeral service for your parasocial bond.

[dvrcos]

more mic’d up andrew minyard when?? mic’d up AARON minyard when?? other mic’d up fox when??

Aaron Minyard Mic’d up

Hes reluctant to do it for a long fucking time

He thinks its kinda dumb

But he mostly doesn’t wanna get scolded for what his mic would pick up

Because my boy is a shit talker

He’s saying everything and anything he can to rile up the other team

He’s even trying to rile up the other foxes tbh

So when he finally agrees he makes coach promise he won’t get in trouble

He body slams the opposing striker (because if there’s one thing Aaron’s gonna do it’s put his all into a body check)

And the opposing striker is mad like visibly fuming

He’s all up in Aaron’s space, a moment away from starting a fight

And Aaron thinks it’s the funniest thing ever

He’s laughing his ass off while loudly crashing their raquets against each other

‘What you’re upset I hit you? I’m five foot nothing dude sounds like a you problem’

And he’s lucky the striker gets pulled away by his teammates cause he’s over 6 foot

And Aaron is all bark, no bite

*whispering into the mic as he walks away* ‘I’ll be honest guys, he would’ve kicked my ass but that was to good of an opportunity to pass up’

His best moments come from when he trips up a striker

*sends the striker sprawling onto their ass* ‘womp womp’

*body slams one into the wall* ‘maybe next time man’

*slams the ball out of their racquet* ‘that’s not yours cmon now’

He flirts with the opposing team but in German

Because he’s discovered that when they can’t understand what he’s saying it really gets to them

And he’ll slip in a word in English so they figure out he’s flirting

And they’re even more pissed and distracted that they mess up what would’ve been a solid play

‘What the fuck did you just say to me!?’

‘Hey, hey sorry just trying to have a nice conversation’ *winks and walks away to start up play again*

*Opposing striker, absolutely baffled and fuming*

His striker accidentally trips him up and gets past to Andrew

And Aaron doesn’t even have to look at Andrew to see the heavy bored expression he’s giving him

Aaron knows he’s probably plotting where to hide his body if he does it again

*Andrew, shaking his head in disappointment as he smacks the ball away*

*Aaron rolling onto his knees and pleading for mercy while laughing* ‘my bad, let’s just talk this out I promise it won’t happen again it was Nicky’s fault’

This happens a lot whenever they’re both on the court

Because making a joke out of Exy is one of the only ways they both actually enjoy it sometimes

And it’s something they can actually bond over

But oh god forbid if someone on the other team says something about Andrew

That’s when Aaron just looses it

Doesn’t matter if the player is ten times his size, he becomes all bite

‘Put your psycho pet brother on a leash already’

And Aaron’s helmets already off and he’s going for his gloves next

*Matt grabbing him and holding him back* ‘cmon Matt it’ll be good, he asked for it, it’ll be good’

‘No Aaron, no red cards’

‘But it’ll be fun’ *tries to throw his helmet at the other player*

He gets a yellow card for it but he proudly displays it by tucking it into the front of his jersey

‘I’m gonna frame this one coach’ he tells Wymack as he sits on the bench for his penalty

Kevin’s always the most annoyed by Aaron’s shit talking because it threatens the game and Aaron’s wellbeing

And he also gets the most riled up whenever Aaron’s turns it onto him

*Kevin storming over to Aaron after he almost gets ejected* ‘Stop saying shit that’ll get you kicked out of the game you idiot’

‘Oh cmon Day I know you like em a little feisty, I’m just trying to make you happy my Queen,’

And Kevin just smacks the top of his helmet and turns to walk away

‘I can get on my knees to apologize if you want, I know you like me on my knees’

And Kevin just has to tune him out cause Aaron won’t stop if he feeds into it

He gets really into the game sometimes though (because he’s competitive and he can’t help it)

Like he’s screaming and cheering so loud at certain points the mic is crackling

*Kevin and Neil scoring the goal that pulls them into the lead* ‘LETS FUCKING GO’

When he’s on the bench he’s the one banging on the plexi glass

He’s screaming at them to get their heads out of their asses or cheering them on even though they can’t hear him

And then he gets out of his competitive streak and he’s lowkey embarrassed

‘If that gets posted online I will never recover’ he mutters after he’s just jumped into Matt’s arms in celebration

When the foxes listen to his recording later they’re shocked by how creative Aaron gets with all of it

And they find it hilarious

And endearing

And they like that they’re getting to see a new part of Aaron as he gets more comfortable with the team

He is by far one of the most aggressive of the foxes when he’s on the court, both physically and verbally

And the fans absolutely eat it the fuck up

But Wymack doesn’t mic him up often because he is lowkey a liability because of what he says

[moonstruckme]

hi hun!! i have another in a week :]] it's a little less cute than sunshine reader, but i read the fic where reader swore at someone and everyone was shocked and i thought it was so funnyy

i was thinking a.. hothead!reader who's got a sailor mouth and quick temper, so naturally she curses a LOT. and the boys dare her to try not to curse for just one day, and she accepts it, but without them even doing anything mischievous to tick her off, she drops something and she's like "fuck- shit, damn it!" and the boys are just giggling their head off and constantly reminding her to put money in the swear jar

ooh and maemae, i love the way you write descriptions omgg <333 especially when you write from james' pov, he's such a sweetheart!! ahh you're such an amazing writer, your stuff gives me all the warm fuzzies :] i hope you're taking care of yourself in the midst of writing all these requests!!

- ✏️

Thank you my love!

join the party

poly!marauders x hothead!reader ♡ 677 words

You know your boyfriends are plotting something. You eye them suspiciously as Sirius whispers to James, both of them giggling like children. 

“What,” you say flatly. 

James doesn’t even bother trying to hide his grin. “Nothing, sweetheart.”

You huff, biting your lip before you can call him any name that’ll make you lose your prize. It’s nine in the morning, and you’ve only got about sixteen hours to go with no cursing. Twelve if you go to bed early as a measure of self-censure. 

Remus had raised an eyebrow at you after a particularly colorful stream of expletives the night before, asking as you made your contribution to the swear jar, “Do you think you could go even one day without swearing like that?” You said you could, and Sirius had pounced on the opportunity for a wager, betting you that you couldn’t go the entire next day without using a single curse word. 

You’re sure the boys were hoping you’d forget overnight, but you weren’t accustomed to losing, and damned if you weren’t going to get your prize. Sirius had so little faith in you that he’d agreed to letting you pick what movies you all watched for the next month if you won the bet. The next month. That meant a month-long reprieve from those stupid fucking heist movies they all loved so much. 

You’re also certain that, failing their first plan of your poor memory, your boyfriends are going to be cooking up some other scheme to make you falter. One of their famous pranks, to be sure. They tease you incessantly for your short fuse, and they’re bound to try and ignite it any way they can today. 

You wonder what it’ll be. Dog breath potion slipped into your water bottle? Stink pellets tossed into your room? Or maybe something so simple as salt in your coffee?

You look down at the mug Remus handed you a minute ago, sniffing at it. They always use Remus when they want to be inconspicuous; it’s so hard to suspect him. But he wants you to lose the bet as much as anyone. 

You stand, carrying your still-full mug into the kitchen. 

“Not this time,” you mutter. 

Remus looks up from his paper, frowning at you as you stomp over to the sink. “Dove, what are you doing?” 

“You must think I’m so gullible,” you drawl, pouring the hot coffee down the drain. “There’s no way I’m ingesting anything you—” the handle of the mug slips from your grasp, the dish shattering in the sink “—ah, fuck!” You look up to see Sirius’ eyes widen, glee sparking to life, and realize what you’ve done. “Shit. Damn it!” 

Remus puts a hand over his mouth while Sirius hoots, and James simply collapses in giggles, disappearing behind the couch. 

“Tha—that was too easy,” Sirius cackles, using his forefinger to wipe under his eyes. “We didn’t even do anything yet!” 

“Sweetheart, I’m almost disappointed,” Remus says, shaking his head even as he grins from ear-to-ear. “I thought you’d make it to the afternoon at least. Get your money for the jar.” 

“That’s, what?” James' voice comes from behind the couch. “Three dollars?”

“Five,” you say gravely, holding up your favorite finger on each hand. “Fuck you, you assholes.” 

“Pretty sure that’s six, babydoll.” Sirius cheeses at you. “Gestures count, don’t they Prongs?”

“A dollar per hand,” James agrees, now recovered enough to sit up on the couch. 

You seethe at them, and Remus comes into the kitchen to help you clean up your mess, patting your shoulder consolingly. 

“We’ll put it towards date night,” he says. 

“Good idea.” Sirius kicks his feet up on the table, making a show of lounging in his chair. “I’m thinking tonight, we order in from that Indian place and watch The Italian Job. What do you think, lads?”

You bristle, but Remus sees the comeback sizzling on your tongue and squeezes your shoulder warningly. “Save your money, dove. Want me to make you some more coffee? Seems like you might need it today.”

[honestlydarkprincess]

Fuck It Friday!

tagged by @eddiebabygirldiaz, @lonelychicago, @fruchtfliege, @diazheartsbuckley, @hemlocksandfoxgloves, @theotherbuckley !!!

so i still haven't been writing much, the drawing haze is real man but here have some of the fwb buddie fic that i'm pretty sure i've already shared so weee! see it again!

Buck did a double take when he saw the pancake mix and said, “Absolutely not. I don’t even know why you have that, Eddie. If we’re making pancakes we’re doing it the proper way, from scratch.”

“But that’ll take longer,” Eddie groaned. “I’m hungry.”

“Good things take time,” Buck scolded, before pulling out the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.

Now that the coffee had been poured Eddie took over, making them exactly like they liked them. Wordlessly he passed Buck his coffee and Buck hummed in thanks. Eddie took a seat the table and sipped his coffee while he watched Buck move around his kitchen with ease. God, this all felt so fucking domestic and Eddie loved it.

In no time Buck had whipped up enough pancakes for the two of them and they sat down to breakfast. “So, what do you want to do today?” Eddie asked. “I have to pick up Christopher from his friend’s tonight but we have the whole day.”

“That sounds good— oh shit, I just remembered I promised Maddie we would go to lunch,” Buck said apologetically, looking at Eddie with a pout on his lips. “We’ve been so busy lately I haven’t really seen her.”

“Oh,” Eddie tried not to let any of his disappointment show. “That’s okay! You guys have fun.”

“Do you want to come?” Buck asked, pulling out his phone. “I can check with Mads to see if that’s okay.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me,” Eddie waved him off. “You two need some sibling time together.”

tagging: @bigfootsmom, @monsterrae1, @thiamsxbitch, @buckera, @devirnis

@sleepywinchesters, @queerdiaz, @queerdiazs, @spagheddiediaz, @jeeyuns

@roy-kents, @mustachediaz, @father-salmon, @underwaterninja13, @spotsandsocks

@beyourownanchor6, @maygrantgf, @dorkydiaz, @ksbbb, @epicbuddieficrecs

[forbidden-sin-bin]

By Your Side | Chapter 2

Summary: You meet with the man who made Infinite, Eminem; Or as everyone calls him Marshall, for the very first time. 

---

“The hell do you want?”

You were taken aback by his aggressive demeanor, wondering what you did to provoke his annoyance. “Hey, take it easy man.” You raised your hands to show surrender. “I don’t want any trouble-”

“Then why’d you stare at me?”

You blinked.

“Uh... what?”

“You were staring at me.” He repeated, a little bit slower this time like you were hard of hearing. “You stare at people, means you’re looking for a fight or you’ve got a problem with them.” The guy huffed, looking a little less miffed. “You don’t know that?”

‘Sounds like this place is way too goddamn sensitive.’ You mentally quipped, still, you kept that to yourself.

“Nope.” You popped the ��p’ as you lowered your arms. “I do now though.”

He hummed, tilting his head at you inquiringly. “A’ight then, so what do you want?”

“Looking for a guy named Eminem.” You replied. “Or, you know, Marshall.” At the mention of both his artist alias and actual name, his brows raised in surprise for a moment before furrowing.

“That’s me. How’d-”

“The guy in the store told me that you had the cassettes for Infinite and all. Mind if I can snag a copy of your album?” You interrupted quickly.

His face morphed into a variety of emotions in a matter of milliseconds, ranging from surprise, to a glimmer of hope, and then back to suspicion and a mask of cynicism that he was so used to experiencing. 

He was expecting disappointment, and he was long prepared for it as he gave you a scowl.

“Look, if this is a fuckin prank or something, just say it now.”

This time you had return the sour expression, half annoyed at his negative attitude, the other half confused as to how he came to that conclusion.

“Seriously?”

Marshall shoved his hands in his pockets, lifting his chin up to glare at you in a defensive manner. “I’m serious. Why the fuck would you wanna buy my album? There’s stuff like Kid Rock in that store ‘n shit. And how the hell did you know about it?” He shrugged, nodding towards your attire. “As far as I know, cause I know you ain’t from here, you had someone tell you about it.”

He was observant, that’s for sure. Yet his matter-of-fact tone like he already knew the situation and how it was going to end made your eyes flash with anger and chip harder at your patience that was running thin.

Not like you were a very patient person to begin with.

“And you think whoever told me is asking me, a total outsider that’s not from here, to pretend to be interested in buying Infinite?” You scoffed, hardly believing your own ears right now. “Actually, I saw the poster in the store myself, believe it or not; And no, this isn’t me feeling pity or some bullshit like that. I want to buy it cause I’m interested; I ain’t fucking with you buddy.” 

The two of you stared each other down, neither letting up. You were beginning to have second thoughts, if he was so sure that you were messing around. ‘That’ll be his loss anyway.’ You thought, narrowing your eyes.

Finally, Marshall threw his hands up in an ‘oh well’ manner.

“A’ight. If you say so.” He motioned you to follow him as he fished his keys out of his pocket. “Didn’t answer my question though.”

You followed him close behind. “What, you mean why would I wanna listen to it?” He nodded, and you shrugged. “Well, call it my gut instinct; Out of all the album covers I saw, it was yours that caught my attention.”

“Uh huh... And?”

“And... I guess I had a feeling it might be worth listening to.”

“Even more than, oh, I dunno... Vanilla Ice?”

You gave him a disbelieving squint. “You serious? Nearly ruined hip-hop for me.”

Marshall didn’t say anything, but you swore you saw a ghost of a smile on his face, and you mentally gave yourself a pat on the back before asking:

“I really don’t look like someone who would be into rap music, huh?” This time, he actually broke into a brief grin. 

“Fine, you got me.” 

Unlocking the trunk of his car, he lifted the lid wide open, revealing a messy pile of cassettes, vinyl's, and CD’s, all of them Infinite. You in turn had already fished out the required six dollar cost that’ll pay more than enough for your new addition to your collection. “You know what? You’re pretty chill, my bad man.” He admitted.

You grinned, glad that you’re getting along well with him despite the rocky start. “All good, honestly I can’t blame you.” You paused before adding with a smirk. “Well, not too much, anyways.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Oh, so that’s how it is.” Raising his free hand, he stuck his middle finger at you playfully. “Well fuck you too.”

This time, it was your turn to laugh as you returned the gesture. ”Likewise.” Letting the obscene gesture stay in mid-air for a few moments, the two of you cracked up, looking away as you both tried to stifle your snickering.

“Okay, okay, seriously.” You managed to calm down and gave him a crisp ten dollar bill. “Keep the change.”

Marshall raised a brow as if you were crazy. “You sure ‘bout that? I mean, I ain’t gonna say no, if you were expecting that.”

You shook your head, smiling.

“I’m serious. This isn’t a charity case or anything; just think of it as a future investment.” You winked, hopefully in an encouraging way and nothing else. “I got a good feeling you’re gonna go far.”

“Well then,” he took the bill out of your hand. “At least you’ve got more faith in me than my last manager-” He was about to hand you the cassette until a familiar voice hollered from behind you, making the both of you jump.

“MAMAAAAAAA!!!”

“Oh shit-!” Whipping around, your heart dropped to your stomach as you saw Quinn practically half-hanging out of the car window, arms flailing as he waved to get your attention. You could hear the voice of your mother shouting: “Quinn! Get down from there!”

At that point, you already knew she was holding into the edge of his winter jacket, trying to yank him back into his seat.

“Uh- hold that thought.” You sheepishly gave Marshall the finger guns as you began to walk backwards, jabbing a thumb behind you. “I’ve got somebody who needs me-”

The boy waved you off. “I ain’t going anywhere, go get your kid.” you gave him a thankful smile as you turned tail and practically sprinted towards the van.

“Quinn! What are you doing?!” Grabbing him by the shoulders, you gently pushed him back into his seat. “That was really dangerous, you know!”

Your mom finally let go of his jacket. “Look, he already wants to leave!” Forcing your temper down, you leaned into the open window, letting her angrily chastise you with a stony look on your face. “Are you done? Can you get back into the car, or are you going to idle around this place and waste your time?”

“I was talking to someone-” You were cut off just as soon as you tried to explain.

“Well stop talking and let’s go!” Your mom snapped as your dad was just as ready to hop onto the bandwagon of yelling at you into listening.

“Y/N, get in the car.” He warned. “Now.”

Clenching your jaw, you whipped back around and walked a few paces away from the van, hands clenched in fists as you fought to keep your rage in check. 

Once in a while, you’d let it slide and keep your head down to avoid having to drag it out any longer. Having to hear it often  - and sometimes you really didn’t know what you did to make them scold you - was tiring.

If it weren’t for Quinn quite literally in the middle of the conflict, you would’ve blown up at them by now. But no, you couldn’t. You shouldn’t. You have to do it for him; You have to be better.

Taking in a deep breath, you strode back to the car and once again leaned into the window. Before they could say anything else, you simply announced:

“I made a friend.”

It wasn’t a lie, but to say Marshall was a ‘friend’ was a bit off. Either way, it made both your mom and dad shut up a little bit. It had been a while since you actually mentioned anything about friends, if you had any.

Your parents stared at you incredulously, not exactly understanding what you were trying to imply. “What does that have to do with anything?” Your dad demanded.

“It means: It’d be rude to just hop in the car now without saying goodbye to my ‘friend’, while we just ride all the way back to our hotel doing absolutely nothing until tomorrow. And by the way-” You gestured to the child pressing his ears shut with the palms of his hands. “You can yell at me later, okay? You’re scaring him.”

Thankfully, that seemed to have quieted everybody for now as they all looked at Quinn apologetically as he slowly lowered his hands. “Hey, baby... I’m sorry about that.” You patted his head comfortingly. “What did you want to call me over here for?”

The toddler looked back innocently. “I wanna go outside, please?”

You stared at him, exasperated. ‘Well, at least he gets right to the point.’

“What do you say?” Giving the child a stern look on your face, making yourself clear that you weren’t happy with how he handled that situation.

He looked down. “I’m sorry.”

“Uh huh. And?”

“I won’t do it again.” He mumbled. 

You sighed, stroking his hair. “Thank you. That’s what I needed to hear.”

Glancing inside of the car, you waved to your parents. “Just for a minute or two. The whole place is safe, don’t worry.” Smirking a little, you added: “I’m right, aren’t I?”

Not bothering to wait for their response, you swung the side door open and lifted him into your arms. “We’ll be right back!” You called to them as you kicked the side door shut and repositioned him into being held sideways like a plank of wood. “Alrighty mister, it’s time to fly!”

Quinn giggled joyously as you spun around a few times before setting him down, taking his hand in yours. “You wanna go say hi to one of my friends?” You asked him. He nodded, already more focused on avoiding the cracks in the ground than actually listening. 

Leading him back to where an amused Marshall waited, the sheepish feeling returned as you rubbed the back of your neck with your free hand. “Sorry about that,” you started. “I, ah, hope you don’t mind my nephew tagging along.”

To your surprise, Marshall’s demeanor completely shifted. You watched as he bent down, smiling warmly at the suddenly shy toddler hiding behind your leg.

“Hey little man, what’s your name?” He held his hand out, offering him a handshake, but Quinn burrowed his face into your side.

You patted his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay baby. He’s not gonna hurt you, I promise.” You reassured him soothingly. “Why don’t you introduce yourself? Think of it like it’s the first day of school and you tell the whole class your name.”

Quinn was quiet for a few moments before he slowly turned to face Marshall, sticking an arm out. “Mmh... Quinn... Am’ four.” He managed to mumble out before hiding again, though he still stuck his hand out, and Marshall gently took it, doing a little handshake. You shared an amused look with him, holding back a laugh as you both knew he looked more like a three year old than what the child claims.

“Well it’s nice to meet you Quinn.” He replied in a soft tone, one that you didn’t expect. “You got a nice name y’know? My name is Marshall, but you can call me Eminem.”

Hearing the name of one of his favorite chocolate brands, the toddler stuck his head back out. “M & M’s?” His eyes glimmered with wonder, initial shyness beginning to fade away. “Like the chocolate?”

“Yeah!” Marshall grinned. “Do you like them?” The toddler nodded. “Woah, me too! Isn’t that cool?”

You watched the two interact silently, trying not to grin. ‘Who knew a guy who acts and dresses like a gangster could do so well with kids.’ You thought as you leaned down to join the conversation. 

“Be careful honey.” You reminded him as Marshall let him see his pierced ears, tilting his head to the side so he could touch the golden hoops.

Having completely forgotten his timidness, Quinn brushed his fingers across the earrings. “Did they hurt?” He asked, admiring the shiny metal.

“A little,” he admitted. “But only for a little bit. After that, I’d completely forgotten.” Quinn nodded along.

“Mama’s got earrings too.” Both boys looked up at you. “Right Mama?”

“Right...” You trailed off, not knowing if you should correct him. 

‘I really shouldn’t have let him get away with that, calling me something that I didn’t earn the rights to.’ You thought, holding back a sigh.

“That’s your mama, huh?” Marshall asked him, to which the child eagerly replied with an “Mm hm!” 

“That’s cool, she’s a cool mom, ain’t she?” They shared a nod, which you held back a laugh. “What about your da-”

“HEY!! Hey, you wanna hold onto my music player baby?” You cut in, bitter ice rushing into your veins at the mere mention of Quinn’s dad. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice your panic as he was more eager to interact with your sacred walkman, bouncing excitedly.

You showed him the music player, holding it above his head as you laid out the ground rules.

“Alright, if you wanna hold it, promise me this: Do not drop it, do not wander off, and you have to be very, very gentle with it. Promise?”

His tiny hands reached for it. “I promise!” 

Finally relenting, you gave him the walkman as he held onto it like a priceless treasure.

“You wanna sit here buddy?” Marshall patted the edge of the open trunk, giving you a quick look that clearly meant he wanted to talk to you. You gave Quinn a nod as he looked to you for permission, and he reached his arms out to him as he was picked up in a manner that only someone who dealt with kids before could do.

“Now you’re a big man.” He patted the toddler’s head before turning to you, moving closer so he wouldn’t eavesdrop.

“What was that all about?” He asked, frowning.

You sighed, putting your hands into your pockets. “Well, first off, he’s actually my nephew.”

“Huh...” Marshall furrowed his brows. “So, where’s his mom?” You saw this was coming, but that didn’t stop you from wincing a little.

“Gone.” 

“What do you mean go- oh.” His face turned to one of realization. “Oh shit. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged in a vacant manner. “It’s all good.” You quickly changed the subject, praying he wouldn’t bring up either parent any further. “You’re pretty good with kids, have you got any younger family members at home?”

He smiled, almost shyly. “Yeah, I got a little brother, Nate.” He looked down, trying hard to contain his sense of love and pride. “And I have my little girl, she just turned one last Christmas.”

‘Ah, so that explains it.’

“Definitely says a lot about you, y’know.” You returned his expression warmly. I’m glad I bumped into you when I did, I put in a damn good investment.” 

“Aha, cause I know how to handle kids, or is it really cause of my rap skills?” Before he could hear your reply, he suddenly added: “Speaking of handling kids, you say that’s your nephew, how come he calls you mom?”

“Well-”

“Also, where’s his dad at?”

Giving him a grimace and a look that clearly showed you didn’t like to even think about the damn topic, his face turned to realization and disgust as he put the pieces together.

“Shit, he a deadbeat?!” There was heated snarl in his voice that matched the fiery rage lighting up his eyes. “Fuckin pussy jus’ fucked off and left his baby?!”

While your nod was a satisfying confirmation, his thoughts on this coward of a man weren’t. He turned away from you, muttering out insult after insult behind his breath before composing himself.

“Goddamn, I’m really sorry you have ta’ deal with that. It’s his loss, your boy’s a sweet kid.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” You replied, stealing a glance at Quinn, making sure he was still right where you left him. Sure enough, he hasn’t lost interest in your walkman at all.

“Well, there’s your answer. And judging by that look on your face, you want to ask me why the hell he calls me mom, eh?”

“Took the words outta my mouth.” He looks at you expectantly. “Well?”

You paused, feeling sheepish once again as you rubbed the back of your neck. “I mean - you know - I told you before, he’s my sister’s son. So... him calling me ‘mom’, well you know-

“-But you’re still his mom.”

You blinked in surprise, Marshall’s face turned into a slight frown.

“He sees you as his mom, and you take care of him like a mom.” He affirmed. “Doesn’t make your sister any less of his mom, but if he calls you mom, it’s cause you are his momma.”

There was silence after that, but not in an uncomfortable way; It was a few seconds of contemplative quiet, the occasional sound of cars passing by and Quinn’s fiddling with your walkman being the only background noise that gave way for a good time to consider his words.

Perhaps pausing one too many times before you finally found the words, you eventually replied: “You’re probably right.” Again, another pause as you kept your gaze to the ground, hands in your pockets. “Honestly, you’re probably the first person to tell me that; Doesn’t make me feel any better though.”

“I getchu.” Marshall nodded in understanding, tilting his head slightly to get a better look at your downturned face. “An’ I don’t blame ya, wouldn’t be surprised if your parents beat yo ass if you ever brought that shit up.”

The two of your shared a nearly humorless chuckle.

“Either way, don’t take my word for it.” He added with a shrug. “I just think he’s a real lucky kid if he gets to have a mom or aunt like you, fuck anybody who says otherwise.”

You shared eye contact, though this time it was out of mutual comprehension for each others’ situation, rather than uncertain intent of potential hostility.

While it was a pleasant interaction between two strangers, you both knew your conversation was coming to a close. After all, you had a plane to catch tomorrow morning, and he had a job to do to pay the bills and put food on the table.

“Speak of the devil,” You muttered as you heard the obvious noise of the family van’s engine creeping. “I ain’t gonna keep you for much longer, you probably-”

“-Yeah, yeah.” He was quick to finish, suddenly feeling awkward. “Shit, it was nice talking to ya. But- yeah - I got stuff to do, working on my next album-”

“Oh shoot, really?” It was a sudden knee-jerk reply, likely feeble in attempting to make the moment last a bit longer. “Damn, you know when you’re gonna release it?”

Marshall made a mix between a grimace and a pondering look as he made the guesswork in his head. 

“Probably... maybe late this year or early next year. Gonna try somethin different, like, ‘fuck everyone’ kinda different. How ‘bout you?” He inquires.

Tilting your chin in acknowledgement, you replied: “Yeah, I got an audition coming up in a few days in New York. It’s supposed to be some sort of minor role in this… fighting movie? Not too sure yet.”

“Oh, word?!” Marshall looks a little shocked, eyes wide. “Shit, I got a movie star buying my album. That’s dope.”

You huffed an amused chortle. “Hey, don’t get your hopes up yet. I’ve got a couple dozen other people I need to compete against if I ever want to get another callback or a test screening.”

He replies with a confident glint in his eye. “You’ll make it, like I said: Fuck anybody who says otherwise.”

You grinned. “Fuck anybody who says otherwise.”

He holds out his hand, and you return it with a firm clasp and a shoulder bump.

“Hey, you know whether if your next album is mailable or not?” You asked, and he raises a brow quizzically.

“I mean, you could ask my manager if you’re that desperate? You got a pen’n’paper? I ain’t usin mine...”

Like a remote controlled button press, you reached into the inside pocket of your hoodie and whipped out your notebook, pen clipped to the cover. “Does this technically count as an autograph?” You thought aloud, to which he laughed.

“If it is, you’re the first one asking for it.” Taking the pen and notebook from your hands, he flipped to a blank page and quickly jotted down the contact info. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

As he handed your notes back, you quickly glanced down to skim over his writing, seeing the name ‘Paul Rosenberg’ on it. Noticing another name at the bottom corner of the page, your brows raised, intrigued.

“Slim Shady?” You read out.

Marshall tilted his head up proudly. “My new alias; Gonna be the side of me that holds nothin back next album. Jus’ you wait.”

You smirked, giving him a look of approval. “I’m looking forward to it.”

Quinn broke focus off of your walkman as you called for him, letting him know it was time to head back. Shuffling himself off of the car trunk, he toddled his way over to you, taking your awaiting hand, taking the walkman back and putting it in your pocket.

“Nice meeting you Marshall.” You gave him one last nod, which he returns with a faint smile, before you leaned down to Quinn’s ear. “What do you say to the nice man?”

Quinn turned to face Marshall, looking a bit sad, but far less shy than he was initially. “Thank you...”

Marshall chuckled, giving the toddler a pat on the head. “No problem lil’ man. You take care of yourself, aight?”

Nodding, Quinn waved as you slowly led him back to the van. “Bye!” He eagerly waved with his free hand, not breaking eye contact until he heard the door of the van open, and he climbs into his booster seat obediently.

Buckling him in, you slide the door shut and go to climb in on the other side, but not before turning around to call out to him one last time.

“Hey Marshall!”

“Yeah?”

“Remember me once you’re famous, okay?”

The surprise on his face was one to remember, just as much as the loud and joyful “HA!” he lets out; One that he really needed, before hollering back:

“Only if you remember me once you’ve made it big, baby!”

Your face breaks into a massive grin that you couldn’t remember ever doing in ages, as you give him one last salute.

‘I’ll be holding you to that… Slim Shady.’

——————

A/n: IT’S DONE. IT’S FINALLY DONE, HOLY SHOT.

*me literally saying that chapters would be quicker when I posted chapter 1*

*five months later*

*me, sweating like a sinner in church*

HHHHHHHHH-

I’m Canadian, the amount of apologizing is normal don’t worry-

But for real. I’m so sorry. Thank you all so much for your patience. I hope I was able to deliver and that it was worth the wait. I promise you guys, the reason it took so long was me constantly rewriting the conversations you and Marshall were having. I needed it to feel right, and I’m still feeling it’s not completely right, but it’s maybe right enough.

If you read this far, thank you very much and I hope things will be much better and quicker from here on out!!! &lt;3

[alaskan-wallflower]

here’s a hc of mine if you don’t mind 🙃

darry is so mean to ponyboy for literally no reason. he’s always picking on him and lying to him.

like when pony’s older and and trying to argue that he’s 15/16 he doesn’t need a curfew or god forbid a bed time (his curfew is his bedtime darry somehow got away with that and it’s a high he’s been riding and will continue to ride for years)

but darry’s just sighs and looks at pony with mock concern and says “pony, you know what happens to kids your age when they stay up past curfew”

pony: “im not a little kid anymore darry! ik there’s not a monster that’ll eat me in jail 🙄😒”

darry, disappointed but if he plays his cards right this can be the most hilarious thing he’s ever done ever: “well, duh. you’re too old; the monster only eats kids 8 and under. you’re too tall and lanky for him, no no no, ponyboy. once you’re too big for the monster, you’re fate is wayy worser”

pony, so fucking still one would think him a statue: “what. the fuck! are you talking about”

darry, in a nonchalant voice bc if he were to be “scared” pony would get too scared and tht isn’t his intention: “yeah, what do you think bad dreams and night terrors are? it’s your punishment for missin curfew. but when you’re really bad and miss curfew by more than 4 hours, not only do they drag you to jail like your a kid again, they put you on death row.”

pony: “death? like the chair??”

darry, snorting while pretending to get ready for bed himself: “way worse than that, pones.”

pony, damn near shitting himself tryna imagine something worse than night terrors or the electric chair: “what’s worse than-“

and he looks at darry all terrified, and darry’s annoying ass, who’s only doing all this because he knows ponyboy isn’t gonna go crawling to him if he wakes up scared but instead to soda, nods his head to confirm wtv horror pony’s imagined.

safe to say pony has always been back home about an hour before curfew ever since

pony’s so gullible oh my god 😭😭 i feel like they’d do this a lot more when their parents were alive rather than later……like i can totally see darry and soda like ganging up to get pony to play along with the rules lol-i feel like their parents were also a lot more lenient with pony because he’s the youngest so they just did that kind of thing to make it more fair-they’re all so stupid i love them

[ghosts-bandwagon]

ever since i read your mini HC that ghost likes bake off, you should totally write about ghost forcing the rest of 141 and R to watch the finale,,, like i want to know who the boys would support i am desperate for borderline crack (can be platonic!141 or R is affectionately sighing at their idiot boyfriend ghost).

or ghost's thoughts on bingate. anything bake off PLEASE

YES oh god YEEEEEESSS THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS (they’re referencing this post!)

I don’t think Ghost would have to force anyone to watch it, I feel like he’s just watching it one day and everyone kind of joins in, it snowballs from there

It’s a big deal around base, when you first joined you thought it was meant to be ironic but everyone took it so seriously you were a little shocked

Ghost is very much the “knows the process but can’t execute for shit” type of viewer, so he’s commenting as soon as he sees someone’s doing something wrong

“Fuckin’ idiot hasn’t let it prove long enough.”

Soap tries to jump in on the commentary but he has no fucking clue what Ghost’s talking about so he just nods along and asks him questions

You’re living it up in the meantime, obviously you’re sat right next to him so you get to hear all his commentary, even the ones he didn’t expect to slip out

There’s a betting pool going on for who’s gonna win, whoever’s baker gets sent home has to try and recreate the technical challenge from that episode, whoever’s baker is still left gets to judge it

At some point Ghost starts commenting to you specifically, turning his head in your direction but his eyes are glued to the screen

He loves it when you ask him questions, especially when you share your own experiences or input on certain bakes and what’s worked for you or hasn’t worked in the past

If you have baking experience then he’s asking you questions about certain processes and if it’s really feasible to do them in that short allotted time, he loves hearing what you have to say

He prefers the jokes that come from interacting with the bakers as opposed to the skits

If you fall asleep during an episode (as I often do), he will absolutely not tell you what happened but he won’t wake you up either, however he’ll be happy to rewatch the episode with you later on

The excitement for the finale is almost like watching a football match for them, the chorus of disappointment when chocolate starts melting or a key component of a bake doesn’t work out, the excited commentary when they finish their last bake, the cheering when they do well on the technical, everyone gets so worked up lmao

If the baker he was rooting for wins the competition, it’s all he’s thinking about, you can tell he’s a little smug about it too

But if the baker he was rooting for loses, don’t look at him, he’s so grouchy, especially if it means he loses the betting pool, he’s inconsolable.

You’d be hanging out together afterwards and he’s still talking about all the ways they went wrong and what they should’ve done differently, the only thing that’ll shut him up is your affectionate laugh and you kissing his head

Honestly I could go on forever about Ghost and Bake Off

[kaijch]

GQ COUPLES QUIZ ft. karasu, barou, nanase

kind of a shit post idk i had thoughts about them doing this quiz and figured id write them out 🤠✌🏼 how it goes: the boyfriends have to answer a stack of cards written with personal questions about you to see how well you know one another

KARASU T.

came into this to ace every question you throw at him. karasu gives you his shit eating grin throughout while he rests his chin on his hands above the arm rest. ended up hesitating on one (1) question but that’s cause you were trying to fuck with him to second guess himself. smoothly compliments you hoping you’d forget the moments he nearly slips up on some questions. the chemistry between you two was going off, hard for anyone to not feel like a third wheel ngl.

BAROU S.

answers everything down to a t, knows all your habits and lifestyle preferences. tries to be a bit enthusiastic after seeing your sweet smile whenever he got a question right. everyone is (surprisingly) impressed at how well he did. barou takes pride in how well he understands you. pats your head at the end (: "that’ll shut them up.” LOL got 2/3 out of everything

NANASE N.

THE sweetest ever idfc. gives small insights into the questions after he answers them. nanase looks attentively at you the whole time, dude hardly looked at the camera. apologises when he got a question wrong, secretly nanase thinks he’s disappointed you. high fives and thanks you when you reassure him. tells you he’ll do better next time

bonus !

OTOYA: the infamous kylie jenner and travis scott video 😭

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

Brains, Blood and Marriage Proposals what can go wrong

WOOO! Hell yeah.

84 for 🩸:

---

He is so happy she sees it that way. So relieved that he doesn’t have to prove that to her or Buck. 

“Sounds like something more happened,” Eddie says. “Because, if I remember right, you were kind of the person who complained the least about the way we were raised.”

She chuckles a little. “Funny, right?”

“What happened?” He presses. 

“A week before you, uh…” She trails off. “You know?”

He nods. Yes, that super fun night in this very backyard. How could he forget?

“A week before, I left Hernan,” she says. 

He had expected as much. But he still wants to know the story. 

“I packed up my shit, ended up on their doorstep, and told them I was done.” She explains. “Asked them if I could stay while I found a job and a divorce attorney.”

“Chris didn’t mention that, when he called me to come home.” Eddie says.

“He probably wouldn’t have, given what he heard,” Sophia replies.

Eddie’s stomach twists. “What did he hear?”

“After a few days of indulging me, Mom and Dad sat me down in the living room and tried to convince me to go back to Hernan.”

Eddie winces. “Jeez.”

There’s something incredibly insidious, he realizes, how he was encouraged not to go after Shannon, or make any attempts at reconciliation. But Sophia got different treatment. Yeah, Eddie doesn’t want his son baking in all that misogyny for the remainder of his teenage years, either. 

“When I told them that I never really felt comfortable with Hernan, that he pursued me, and I went along with it because I felt I had to, and… And I didn’t love him. And that he didn’t want me to work. Just wanted babies…” 

She takes a shuddering inhale.

“They said, that’s what marriage is sometimes.”

Eddie could puke.

“Fuck that, Soph.” He tells her adamantly. “You made the right choice.”

“Oh, I know,” she exhales. “I was miserable. I’ve been happier being attacked by vampires with your boyfriend than I was sharing a bed with my husband.”

Eddie winces. 

“I’m guessing they didn’t come around?” 

She shakes her head. 

“I got heated, then they got heated, and then…” She sighs. “Then it became a really loud fight that wasn’t just about my failed marriage.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like they lost focus on me, and it became about us.” 

Eddie frowns. “You and Hernan?”

“No. Me and you.” 

“Me? I didn’t leave Hernan. How is that also my fault?”

“Well, um, hate to break it to you, but we’re both in the disappointing kids club. They don’t know where they went wrong. Their eldest is an unstable, philandering, bad father. Their next child is is a haughty, cruel-hearted, gold digger, who just married a wealthier man to leave and make money off of him. If it comes out of the woodworks that Adriana is a serial killer, that’ll just be par for the course.”

“Oh god,” Eddie sighs.

“And of course Chris heard everything,” Sophia says. 

“No.” 

“Came barging out of his room to defend you. Just like you, actually. You’d have been proud, if it wasn’t so horrifying.”

“He shouldn’t have had to do that,” Eddie says, tears welling in his eyes. 

“No,” she agrees. “He shouldn’t have. But he did. And he made sure they knew it wasn’t your fault his mother died, and you were a good man, and…”

“And what?”

“And then they started shit talking Shannon, too.”

Eddie could boil from the inside out. How dare they? His poor boy. He always tried to protect Chris from their opinions of her. 

---

51 for ⚡️:

---

In the days that come, it is incredibly hard to keep this a secret from Buck. Not that there’s anything to tell. Yes, he has decided, but he hasn’t done anything. Not until his planning lunch with Adriana tomorrow, anyway. It might actually be easier if he had. Had impulsively purchased a ring and came up with something quick, simply so the idea of proposing wasn’t a secret locked in his chest anymore. Screw Bobby’s waiting until June advice. He needs to be engaged to Buck soon. 

It gets even harder when Buck asks if they can go out to dinner on Friday night, just them.

“No Chris?” Eddie inquires. 

“Uh, no,” Buck says. “Maddie and Chim were going to take Jee to see that new Disney movie, and asked if Chris wanted to go.”

“They invited just Chris? Not us?” 

“Yep,” Buck nods. 

“Huh,” Eddie muses. “That’s… I mean, that’s nice, right? Like a real and uncle sort of thing to do?”

“Yes!” Buck agrees, a strange, nervous grin on his face. “Yes, and I don’t want to watch the damn movie. And if I don’t, I know you don’t.”

“That’s true,” Eddie agrees. 

“So dinner? You? Me? You know, a date.” 

Buck seems strangely militant about this. 

“Yes, I will go on a date with you, Buck,” Eddie laughs. “How fancy?”

“Look pretty,” Buck instructs. 

“So anything I want, then?”

Buck frowns. “I see I have praised your handsome face and mesmerizing ass too many times. It’s gone to your head. Dress nicely, Eddie.”

So Eddie dresses nicely. Pants that make his ass look, what was it? Mesmerizing? And a cream colored shirt that Eddie might never have chosen for himself until Buck saw it in a store and said fuck, you’d look good in that. Buck wears blue. Eddie loves when he wears blue. 

Eddie is a little concerned when the drive takes nearly an hour, headed south. Surely there are closer nice places to eat? But Buck says he got them reservations at a place in Malaga Cove. Which is super fancy and definitely out of their regular date night budget. Okay, so Buck is splurging, then. 

The restaurant is a Mediterranean style, fine-dining place, with an ocean-view patio. An ocean-view patio which they are given a private corner of. The server beams at them as she seats them. Someone is angling for a big tip, he supposes.

---

51 for 🧟‍♂️:

---

Buck carries the bucket in one hand and does a cradle carry of the loaded shotgun in the other. 

“One day, will I be as strong as you?” Denny asks, struggling with the bags in his arms as they climb the stairs. 

“Stronger I bet.” Buck tells him. 

If they all survive that long. 

Buck thinks of it sometimes. What kind of world faces Denny. He can only imagine how often that’s on Hen and Karen’s minds. 

It’s as they’re about to step out onto the road that it happens. At first, the low thrumming sound of a distant engine. Strange enough, these days, to make Buck’s hairs stand on end.

“Denny, get behind me,” he orders, setting the fish bucket on the ground and gripping his shotgun with both hands. 

“What’s going on?” Denny asks, nervous. 

“Not sure yet,” Buck admits. 

He squints, looking into the distance. Coming from the southeast, still a ways off, is a car. Looks like a four door sedan, but… Black and white. A police cruiser? 

“Denny, take the walkie, go back onto the staircase where you’re hidden, and let them know a cop car is coming and I need help.”

“O-okay,” Denny says, voice shaky. He drops the rest of his things, grabs the walkie from where it’s clipped to Buck, and runs back in the direction they came. Buck hears him whispering, scared, into the device’s receiver. 

Buck gets low. Behind a bush. Where he hopefully won’t be seen if the driver speeds through. He doesn’t want to risk a drive by shooting. It’s pretty hard to pass them by and not see signs of life. A cared for property. Gardens. Security measures put in place; lower level windows all boarded up, extra locks on the doors. If the person is looking for refuge or other humans, they’ll stop. If they’re just passing through - taking a strange route - then he’s safe. 

Vaguely, Buck feels an age old wound start to throb. The maybe. The what if. What if this is Maddie? What if this is Abby? The chances are slim. Ridiculous even. How would either of them have gotten a squad car? Unless its radio is how Maddie knew where to come? Abby knows they’re here. If she was going to come back - if she was alive to come back - she would have by now. After all, it was her library, before it was theirs. 

The vehicle slows as it approaches the library. Buck turns the safety off his gun. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help someone who might need help. It’s really not that. He was a firefighter, for god’s sake. That was his whole calling. 

[quietwings-fics]

Blood stains someone's hands. Better mine than his.

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandom: Supernatural Ship: Gen (Michael & Dean, Dean & Sam, Lucifer & Michael) Additional Tags: POV First Person, POV Dean Winchester, Monologue, Lucifer's Cage (Supernatural), Post-Season/Series 05 AU, Michael Possessing Dean Winchester, Brotherly Angst, Hurt No Comfort Wordcount: 1,230 Summary:

Dean takes Michael on and throws him and Lucifer into the Cage, instead of Sam doing it. He's in Hell now, and there's no way out for him. Nothing like a captive audience.

Prompt:

"instead of sam trapping himself and lucifer in the cage, it was dean who said yes to michael and jumped"

You know what the worst part of it was? Looking Sam in the face and telling him I trusted him to see it through. No, that doesn’t really cover it. He’s my brother, I know him, every face he’s ever made. It’s all stored away, just in case I need it, if he’s mad enough for the silent treatment or worse, keeping a secret that’ll get him hurt. He was always stubborn. You could see when you’d lose an argument or… or a fight. You could read the outcome by the set of his jaw, the sharp slant of his mouth, before the first punch was thrown. There was never any other way it was going to go. He knew he was right, and he knew I saw it, too. He wanted me to put the world on his shoulders and let it crush him, so the rest of us could live on doing…

You don’t give a shit what humans do when they’re alive. They all burn the same, don’t they?

We. We all-

We all float down here. Ha. See, that’s why I couldn’t let Sam throw himself into the pit. Did you know there’s clowns down here? Demon clowns. Nasty sons of bitches. I couldn’t let Sam ride out eternity locked up somewhere he’d be terrified. Though he probably wouldn’t be that scared by the end. You adapt. However you can. It’s about survival.

There’s an end, right? There’s got to be. The sun goes kaboom in a few hundred thousand years, and that’s got to wipe everyone’s slates clean. You, me… Maybe even that sulking douchebag in the corner over there.

Don’t tell me if that graveyard showdown was the really how it was supposed to end and there's no other one planned, if you know. I don’t want to.

He looks like shit from here. Probably worse up close. At least he’s used to it. You’re not. I can tell. It’s wearing on you.

You could talk back. It won’t kill you.

God, I’m off-

Huh.

Don’t want me invoking your Dad’s name?

Buddy, I think we’re damned for a lot worse than a little blasphemy. Attempted fratricide’s higher on the list, no matter how pre-ordained you call it.

Insult me to my face. And get more creative with it. I already know I disappointed my Dad. I’ve got a lot of experience. New to the club?

You aren’t, are you? No, because I know what someone sounds like when they’ve been calling for days and Dad’s not picking up. I know what it feels like when you might die because he won’t come to the phone. This is a two-way street. Can’t lie to the guy whose head you’re inside any more than I can to you.

If your Dad was anything like mine, he probably listened to you begging for help and still thought you’d be better off on your own.

Good job with that. Who’s worse, the guy who lied to his dad about even finishing high school or the archangel who got his ass whooped by the drop-out?

Yeah, fuck you. I’d keep talking even if you weren’t forced to listen.

But you are. And we don’t have shit else to do.

I told Sam I’d trust him with this. I think I just didn’t want to spend my last days alive-

Hold on, am I still alive? What’s the call on that? Heart’s still pumping, nerves still scream at me, so what gives? Can you die in Hell?

I don’t know why I ask you anything.

I didn’t want his last memories of me to be a fight. I think I was even ready to go through with it until I was looking at those empty jugs. There were people in those demons- Fucking- Demons. In those people. Good people. We’d already killed enough of those, and sure as hell never added any more to the world.

Maybe Sam will now. Who knows.

He better not name that kid after me. Can you imagine? The world’s had enough of Dean Winchester. So much it spat me into the devil’s asshole.

Jesus Christ.

Hey, if you’ve got any power in you at all, you make sure he never laughs again. I think my soul just got sliced open by that sound.

So, I’m standing there, staring at the trunk, all those empty jugs and bad blood dragging Sam down and I couldn’t take it. Not one more. I wasn’t killing them, and I wasn’t going to let Sam take that blood on his hands either. So, I packed up. I left.

Cas was… probably still is out of juice, so I wasn’t scared of being caught this time.

I hope he’s doing okay. Glad he didn’t see me like this. Glad none of them did.

I couldn’t look Sam in the face like this. He’d think I didn’t believe in him.

Maybe I don’t. That’s not on him, damnit. That’s on your brother- Yeah, you! Stop eavesdropping! No, I didn’t think Sam could wrestle with you and win! I shot you in the head, and you didn’t go down. I wasn’t going to let my brother be the next wasted bullet.

Talk to me like you know Sam better. Screw you, douchebag. You didn’t know anything about him.

Now, you, on the other hand… I had no chance, no plan, nothing except the fact that you already thought I was ready to roll over. Your big mistake? You underestimated me. If you want to talk about pride, you’ve got your brother beat. One yes, and you came charging in. Felt like swallowing the sun. While it’s exploding. You got in my head and I got in yours. That’s the deal.

Second mistake was pissing me off.

Look at him. Goddamnit, look at him, Michael!

Shut up!

He’s your little brother! I don’t care how far off the beaten path he goes, you don’t ever hurt him! Maybe the rest of the world has got a devil to deal with, but you only ever have a brother! That’s what’s supposed to matter to you!

You held him when he was a baby, and you took care of him, and you were his first word and the first thing he walked towards and the first one he trusted when he started thinking this life didn’t fit right. And you fucked up! Do you hear me? You fucked up, and the last thing you ever did was cut him down when he tried to end this fight!

Because- because you could have walked away. I wouldn’t have done this if you’d walked away.

I wanted you to. I hate him more than any evil son of a bitch I’ve ever hunted, and I still wanted you to walk across that cemetery and-

Never trusted our little brothers when we should have. Maybe there was a way out of this mess a long time ago, too, but we weren’t any smarter back then. Just had more people around us to lose.

He’s gonna be okay. Sam, I mean.

He has to be.

I don’t think I could live with myself if he’s not. Not that I get the choice anymore.

Your brother’s right there. He might look bad, but you’re doing worse. Ask him how he stands it.

It won’t kill you to say something.

(Enjoyed it? Any interaction is welcomed. You can even support me on Ko-Fi <3)

[lizhly-writes]

one day i'll actually work on the canon of this original fiction instead of going off on an offbeat au. that day is not today. anyway here's the chen siblings being violent people i guess

Chen Liwei wishes he could threaten people. His face is hostile enough that it stops people from talking to him, but apparently not enough for him to scare them in a way that matters. Sure, they’ll be scared for the first five minutes --- an hour, if he’s really lucky --- but that’s not enough for them to rethink that dumb thing they want to do to him or his sister.

To make an impact that lasts longer, Chen Liwei usually has to beat people up.

Today, it’s some of his sister’s crazy stalkers.

“They’re technically not stalkers,” Chen Lihua says, not because she actually disagrees with his word choice, but because she’s a little shit who likes to argue with him for the sake of arguing.

“Fuck off,” Chen Liwei says.

“Don’t be so touchy,” Chen Lihua says, and then, “Hey, do you think if I’ll actually kill him if I hit him again?” She twirls the bat in her hand consideringly.

Chen Liwei gives the prone body in front of him a kick. Not too hard --- just to enough to budge it by a couple centimeters. It’d be nice if he was allowed to break some ribs, but --

“You’re not allowed to kill people, that’s illegal,” Chen Liwei says reluctantly. There’s a limit to how much damage they’re allowed to do. Too much, and then it’s not reasonable retaliation or just kids being kids or whatever the fuck the school or the police lets people get away with. It looks bad, and they can’t afford to look too bad if they want to be properly accepted to a good university.

Even if there are absolutely some people who deserve to die.

“How disappointing,” Chen Lihua says.

“Completely disappointing,” Chen Liwei says.

“I really can’t understand it,” Chen Liwei says, her lips curling. “It sounds so nice, saying you’re in love, but isn’t all of this just to get your dick wet with someone you barely know? I should tear that useless thing off, shouldn’t I?”

“Illegal,” Chen Liwei repeats.

“Fuck off,” Chen Lihua says. Thoughtfully, she taps her bat against the ground --- no, against the body, that’ll be another bruise right there. “Hey, Ge. Speaking of romance--”

“Is there someone you like?” Chen Liwei says skeptically, wrinkling his nose. Considering what they’re doing literally right now, that doesn’t seem right.

Chen Lihua snorts. “I’m not talking about me, I’m talking about you.”

“Are you dumb?” Chen Liwei says.

Chen Lihua makes a rude noise. “You’re in a good mood these days, is all I’m saying. And there aren’t that many reasons for you to be in a good mood and also not tell me about it. Is there a beautiful sister-in-law I should be looking out for?”

Chen Liwei feels his face twist involuntarily.

“No?” Chen Lihua says. “That looks like a no. How tragic, I was looking forward to hearing about how some brave white lotus melted the heart of the school’s cool aloof beauty, and together, they bravely faced the world, overcoming all trials with the power of love--”

Chen Liwei shoves a hand over her face.

“Dickhead,” Chen Lihua says.

“Don’t make me throw up,” Chen Liwei says. “Why do you read so many shitty romance novels?”

“A better question is why don’t you read any shitty romance novels.”

“Because I don’t feel like eating trash.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, there’s a certain appeal to eating trash--”

The body at their feet groans. As one, Chen Liwei and Chen Lihua kick it.

“Anyway,” Chen Lihua says. “So I don’t have a beautiful sister-in-law.”

“Why would you even think that.”

“Well, it’s true you really have been in a better mood,” Chen Lihua says. “Also, last week, some bitch tried flirting with you at lunch and you didn’t make her instantly regret existing.”

Chen Liwei wrinkles his nose in automatic revulsion. Flirting is annoying at best, rage-inducing at worst. Who wants this sort of attention? There’s no respect there. It’s only masses of people who want his body and face, all in the most revolting way possible. That sort of thing is enough to ruin his day.

...Which is why he really should have remembered if it happened last week.

“What?” Chen Liwei says. “Really?”

“You know,” Chen Lihua simpers, shifting her voice high and breathy as she demurely lowers her lashes. “It’s just --- you were so impressive when you dealt with Qi Mingtao earlier. So dashing and handsome! Actually, I’ve always thought you were a really cool person. I --- I just really wondered --- would you want to--- ?”

“You’re going to make me throw up,” Chen Liwei says flatly.

“You keep saying that but you never do it,” Chen Lihua cackles. “Gege, your stomach isn’t as sensitive you think it is! But yeah, it went a little like that. You really truly don’t remember?”

“Should I?”

“It’s not like it was a stranger. It was one of your classmates. Han Aihan?”

The name is vaguely familiar. It takes a moment, but he eventually associates it with a face. He has no memory of talking with it last week.

Chen Liwei shrugs.

“Shit, she’s been going around saying that clearly, you like her because you didn’t bother scaring her off and also wow, you smiled at her, and what, you weren’t even paying attention? Hey, do you even know who she is?”

Of course Chen Liwei knows who she is. He knows all of his classmates by name, even if he doesn’t remember straight off the bat. Generally speaking, Han Aihan is an average girl with no particular academic talent, extracurricular talent, or even social talent. In other words: “Nothing special.”

“I’ll pay you to say that to her face,” Chen Lihua says gleefully.

“No deal,” Chen Liwei says. “If you want to her to hear it so badly, say it yourself.”

“Ah, you’re no fun. Poor Han Aihan, she’s so unimportant to you that you can’t even be bothered to crush her heart personally. If she flat-out confessed to you, would you even hear it or would it just be ‘huh? Oh, were you talking to me?’”

With some effort, Chen Liwei vaguely recalls Han Aihan saying... something to him. Chen Lihua was right --- at the time, he really hadn’t been paying attention.

“Huh,” Chen Liwei says.

“You’re normally better at remaining awake and alert,” Chen Lihua says. “What were you distracted by? Thinking good thoughts? About what? Oooh, did somebody die?”

He’d honestly been thinking about the offended expression on Wu Youxuan’s face when he saw Chen Liwei’s perfect test score.

“How are you even doing this,” Wu Youxuan hissed. “You spend all of your time either at your job or beating people up, what kind of study medicine are you even taking that you can just casually walk in and get the best goddamn score, stop smiling I’m going to beat your face in --”

“You’d know if somebody died,” Chen Liwei says, and then, because he owes his sister honesty, says, “I have a...”

What’s the word he’s looking for? Acquaintance? Lackey? Victim?

“...Friend?” Chen Liwei finishes skeptically.

Even before their parents had died, Chen Lihua had always been the more social one of them. Back then, Chen Liwei had been abstractly aware of what friendship was, but he’d never really bothered with anything more than surface level relationships. A healthy classroom atmosphere where it was easy to find partners for class projects and maybe a game of basketball --- and that was pretty much all he cared about. After...

Well, he stopped caring about even that, eventually.

Anyway.

Is Wu Youxuan a friend? Maybe for lack of a better word, but Chen Liwei is almost certain he isn’t treating Wu Youxuan nice enough for that. Should he treat Wu Youxuan nicer?

“A friend,” Chen Lihua says dubiously. “You.”

“I’m allowed to have friends,” Chen Liwei says. “You have friends.”

This is a lie. Chen Lihua doesn’t have friends. She has ‘friends’: people that she chats with and laughs with, but doesn’t actually expend any real care or feeling for. She’s explained this before. Something about keeping a pleasant atmosphere, something about feeling like your ‘friends’ are friends, even if they badmouth you behind your back. It’s a lot of effort for not very much payoff, keeping on a fake face, day after day, always ready for the knife in the back.

Chen Liwei doesn’t really get it.

Wu Youxuan is at least upfront about the desire he has to stab Chen Liwei in the face.

“You’re smiling,” Chen Lihua observes.

“Well,” Chen Liwei says. Wu Youxuan is really funny when he wants to stab Chen Liwei in the face.

[honestlydarkprincess]

🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊🙊

🙊 - let's fuck up the friendship (buddie fwb)

Eddie chuckled and reached behind him, gently petting Buck’s hair as best he could without looking. “We can always come back to bed after eating, you know that right?”

“Yeah, but that means getting out of bed in the first place,” Buck said playfully.

“C’mon, babe,” Eddie murmured, turning over in Buck’s hold so they were face to face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Buck whispered back, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Eddie’s lips. “Now it’s a good morning.”

“Sap,” Eddie rolled his eyes, nudging Buck’s shoulder, but he was smiling, happiness shining on his face. “Breakfast?”

Buck sighed dramatically but got out of bed, grumbling the whole time about ‘hot dudes telling him what to do.’

Eddie followed suit, the two of them stumbling their way to the kitchen to have breakfast. Buck went over to the coffee maker— he was always in charge of making the coffee. Even though Eddie knew how to use the fancy maker now, he still used it as little as possible. His crusade against HILDY continued and would continue until he came out victorious.

Eddie opened the fridge and pulled out the milk, grabbing some pancake mix from the cupboard and a bowl.

Buck did a double take when he saw the pancake mix and said, “Absolutely not. I don’t even know why you have that, Eddie. If we’re making pancakes we’re doing it the proper way, from scratch.”

“But that’ll take longer,” Eddie groaned. “I’m hungry.”

“Good things take time,” Buck scolded, before pulling out the ingredients to make pancakes from scratch.

Now that the coffee had been poured Eddie took over, making them exactly like they liked them. Wordlessly he passed Buck his coffee and Buck hummed in thanks. Eddie took a seat the table and sipped his coffee while he watched Buck move around his kitchen with ease. God, this all felt so fucking domestic and Eddie loved it.

In no time Buck had whipped up enough pancakes for the two of them and they sat down to breakfast. “So, what do you want to do today?” Eddie asked. “I have to pick up Christopher from his friend’s tonight but we have the whole day.”

“That sounds good— oh shit, I just remembered I promised Maddie we would go to lunch,” Buck said apologetically, looking at Eddie with a pout on his lips. “We’ve been so busy lately I haven’t really seen her.”

“Oh,” Eddie tried not to let any of his disappointment show. “That’s okay! You guys have fun.”

“Do you want to come?” Buck asked, pulling out his phone. “I can check with Mads to see if that’s okay.”

“No, no, don’t worry about me,” Eddie waved him off. “You two need some sibling time together.”

make me write!

[ave09]

drive

gk!harvey dent x wife!reader

note: i love writing these lmaooo

this one’s got a bit of angst, and the ending sorta sucks but whatevesss! the next one i wanna write is gonna me my interpretation of the two-face debocle, specifically when he actually becomes two-face (dc fans, y’all know what i mean 👀) bc i have a rlly fluffy and sad idea for it and now want nothing more then to write it. that’ll prolly be my last harvey imagine til i get more inspo from the next gotham knights episode. BUT! i also wanna start writing for other characters, mainly star wars and supernatural so if you have any ideas,pls message me!

———

“okay, where are we going?”

“now if i told you, that would ruin the surprise!” you exclaimed, glancing at your husband in the passenger seat. 

he was currently blindfolded, a mixture of curiosity and content written in his expression. harvey dent used to hate surprises. the anticipation, not knowing if he would like it or not, the stress was unbearable.

until you came along.

harvey dent now loved surprises. 

they were never for birthdays, or any sort of special occasion, it was just out of the blue. he’d come home from work very late and you’d be waiting with a surprise dinner of all his favorites, or on his off days, you’d wake him up bright and early, shove him in the car and drive until you reached your secret destination. 

it was moments like these that harvey looked forward to the most. he never had anyone love him and treat him this way, and he was beyond grateful to have you. 

“are we almost there?”

“are you a child?”

harvey laughed at this, “well, we’ve been driving forever, and i’m starting to think that maybe this isn’t a surprise, but you’re actually taking me out here to murder me.”

you scoffed jokingly, “right and leave lincoln march as mayor, you’ve discovered my plan, guess i gotta kill you now.”

you both erupted into a fit of laughter, but it was interrupted by the sound of your phone ringing. “harv, could you-“

“i’m blind right now, darling.” 

“well, i guess you could take it off for a second, can you check my phone?“ you didn’t know who could be calling you, but it never hurt to check. 

harvey pulled the blindfold up, ruffling his hair in the process as he reached for your small purse, shuffling through the contents until he found the phone. his light eyes narrowed, causing anxiety to claw at you. 

“why is a psychiatrist calling you?”

shit. shit. shit. 

“oh, must be a wrong number.”

stupid. stupid. stupid.

“you have her number saved.” 

his voice was stern. not angry, not disappointed, but upset. you suddenly were aware that you knew exactly what was going on. 

“harvey-“

“you were calling about me, weren’t you?“ a sigh slipped past your lips, and he had his answer. 

“are you fucking kidding me?”

“harvey-“

“i told you, i’m fine! i’m just stressed!” he exclaimed, annoyance lacing his tone. “i thought you were fine too.” you said, trying to keep your temper at bay and keep your focus on the road.

“oh yeah, and what changed that?” 

subconsciously, your foot pressed down on the gas pedal, unease settling in your stomach, “the other day, you called me. and it was as though you were a completely different person.” you began, but was interrupted by harvey shouting, “watch out!!” your gaze turned back on the road and you realized you had drifted lanes. so you did what any sane person would do and pulled off road, slamming on the brakes until you came to a halted stop in a ditch. 

heavy breathes filled the air as you tried to recover from the rush of adrenaline. in that moment you were fearful that you’re last moments on earth were going to be in the middle of an argument with your husband.

thank God, He’d given you another day. 

the man recovered quicker than you did. harvey furrowed his brows, tilting his head slightly, “what are you talking about..?”

“exactly. and you told me that you had simply ‘zoned out’. harv, that’s never happened before. and i’m scared.”

“scared of me?” his voice was soft, and it almost broke you. “no. scared for you.” you corrected, your voice slightly breaking. 

“honey..”

he reached across the seat, taking your hand, “i’m gonna be okay. nothing’s gonna happen. but if it makes you feel better, i’ll go see the psychiatrist.”

you glanced at him, “you will?”

harvey nodded, “anything for you, my love.” 

a smile tugged at your lips, and everything seemed okay. 

“but can you promise me something?” 

“anything.”

a devilish smile appeared on his face as a gravelly voice spoke, “promise me that you’ll never speak another word of this. and if ya do, i’ll gut you like a fish.” 

[fulcrumstardust]

Did you say 👀👀 Halloween fic 👀👀 tell us more 👀👀

yes hello thank you for giving me attention 🥰

maybe you were already there last year when I made my followers build a fic! then life happened etc, so I didn't deliver but I'm back at it 🎃👻🍬🦇💀🧡

for reference this was the winning result of my polls:

strangers meeting for the first time

instant connection/attraction, no chill

sneak out and do chaotic activities

dom!Cassian

slutty preview under the cut:

“Like you’re not wondering how I would fuck you,” he whispers in her ear, moving his head before he continues. “I bet you’re tired of those pizza guys pretending to be nice and charming who don’t give you what you need. Maybe you do it yourself so it’s not awkward afterward. Or you just say you had a good time and run for the closest exit available.”

Hey, now. This is so uncomfortably specific and yet deadly on target, what the fuck.

“Wow, and you know all that just by looking at me?” Jyn snarls. “Are you psychic?”

“You're not that hard to read.”. 

Finishing off the wounded, okay. The funny thing is, Jyn’s default response to emotional damage is not going to weekly therapy. Quite the opposite, in fact. The best defense is offense, or something. So, of course, her first instinct when a random stranger decides to sexually profile her in the middle of a crypt is to ask for credentials. She might be fucked up but she’s no coward. Take that, shithead. 

“So what’s your move? Go on, let’s see why you talk such a big game. Do your thing.” 

She waits, defying chin up, hoping that’ll shut him up. 

“Not here.”

Imagine her surprise when the first thing she registers is a sinking, burning disappointment. Yeah, she wanted to call his bluff, sure. But that doesn’t mean the man isn’t factually correct. And maybe if he bent her over a coffin, she’d calm down. Just throwing ideas out there. 

Jyn pushes him away, looking to get some personal space. “You're sending mixed signals, man. I don't like that.” 

Before she can move, Cassian pulls her back by the waist. This is getting danger-close to warranting a fist fight. If the dude keeps pushing his handsy luck… 

“My thing,” he explains with a neutral tone, “is to be in charge. Exclusively. I don't think you'd enjoy it here.”

Jyn unclenches her fists, staying put. Her shoulder against his comfortable chest. Thinking about it. “What, like, some kinky shit with chains and leather?”

Cassian’s laugh brushes over her face. His hands are back on her, somehow, and she still doesn't hate the electricity she feels at the contact. Maybe she should. Especially when his voice gets an octave lower and her self-control keeps checking out. 

“I don't need chains to make you beg. But I can put on gloves if you ask nicely.” 

This is… new.

[terrahlee-cup]

The finale of the ‘holy shit she has a lot to say about this one fic’ series before I return to my regularly scheduled random bullshit. Enjoy lol @raphaelesbian

Chapter 11

*sees author’s note, immediate fear*

Him thinking they look like they should be scared of him hurts me. The baby is not doing too hot tonight huh? Let them like youuuu 🥹

OUTFIT TIME YES! “We need to match if we’re going to be a team!” I KNOW I KEEP SAYING THIS BUT THEY’RE ADORABLE. 

“He’d gone past that feeling, to the frayed mess that he was now. He… didn’t want her to feel like this.” Buddy you shouldn’t feel like that either??? This child is so sweet with other people when he needs to be but never himself ow ouch.

These two are so excited to dress him up and I am excited to read it.

“Well, I love being difficult. Ask Leo.” And the self-deprecation is back. Ohp.

Love these two being legitimately concerned for him when they find out his family doesn’t know what he’s been doing. As much as everything they’ve been up to has usually been dangerous it’s really good for Raph to have more friends outside of his family.

Also, the actual effort to make him feel like he’s part of their little group is incredible and amazing and adorable and-

Ohp they found a landmine— wonder if that’ll come up again later?

Damn Raph didn’t even hesitate with that one did he. Call him a crybaby and he will have his revenge lol.

Oh yeah they still don’t get the turtle noise thing yet do they? And now the alcohol is really hitting time for the sad.

He’s… not going to be as quiet as usual while drunk. This could go poorly. He is so getting in trouble it is so obvious he’s intoxicated. Multiple people are up he is DOOMED.

Yep. Yeah his dad figured it out immediately. Oh boy. AND CASEY’S THERE TOO THERE GOES HIS EXCUSE FOR BEING OUT. I am. Uncomfortable. Agh, lying to his family is not good but he DOES need to be able to get out of the lair. He’s in a bad spot as it is without being cooped up all the time.

Ah. There’s the blow-up. Yayyyy. Donnie… hun, why in the actual fuck would you think suggesting that would be a good idea after everything that’s happened?

“None of you get to decide what I do!” Annnnd there’s the main problem. Sure, Raph may have been the ‘rebellious one’ before the brain worm, but people trying to control him (even if trying to protect him) is probably way more uncomfortable for him now. He lost all control of his body for what, 3+ months? Yeah can’t expect him to not need some level of freedom right now. Anxiety-inducing as hell for his family (entirely fair), but trying to keep him in the lair is probably going to do more harm than good.

Chapter 12

Oh hey he’s dissociating almost immediately after waking up that’s good! Yay! :D

“Karai would hate him for it.” Hun I very much doubt that. She definitely knows your family would find out eventually.

“If I’m such a disappointment, why do you even care what I’m doing?” Agh stupid dumb child must hug him.

“No wonder Shredder favored robots and mind control.” Oh boy. This can only go well. The self-deprecation is getting worse too lovely! Bud your family’s just really fucking worried damn it. They don’t hate you 😫

Mikeyyyyyy <3 bean. Lol he snuck Raph his phone, nice.

Of course he got caught immediately trying to sneak out. “for a moment he wanted him to give in.” This kid is NOT OKAY. AT ALL. That is NOT GOOD.

“the desperation woven into a noose that tightened with each word that fought its way through his esophagus.” EYYYYY HE SAID THE THING. (Ow.)

“Y’know, he said the same thing.” OW. FUCK. THAT WAS HARSH BUDDY- LIKE WAKE-UP CALL YES BUT ALSO WAY TOO MUCH.

I think I summarized a lot of my thoughts about these two chapters very well here:

But in all seriousness this is very well written and I am very excited for whenever the next chapter is uploaded. Seemingly we’re in for some more angst based on… certain posts *squints*

Love the chaos trio that is Shinigami, Karai, and Raph. They are menaces and will probably give Splinter gray hairs in the very near future lol. I suppose Raph and Karai have probably given him quite a few already on their own, though. Whoopsie.

[nerves-nebula]

Zag on them bitches, never let them know your next move- TIME TO WRITE TRAUMA AGAIN

——

It was Donnie’s turn to do dishes. Raph had cooked them some really nice veggies with some weird sauce Casey had brought them that had been absolutely delicious. The texture was a little weird, so smooth versus the crunchiness of the vegetables, but the taste had been great. Even Splinter hadn’t found anything to gripe about when he grabbed his helping.

However, now that the food was eaten and in his stomach, his tongue was making its dislike of the texture known. He hated that he was so picky about food, he wished he could just subsist on liquids. A nice flavorless juice full of all the calories and vitamins he needed without any of the horrible feelings that came with things touching his tongue.

“Dumbass, you’ve been scrubbing the same dish for five minutes.” Leo’s snarky voice didn’t even manage to cut through the cloud of discomfort, only amplifying it.

“There was a stain.” He lied.

“Sure there was. Can you fuckin’ stay on Earth for long enough to talk?”

He frowned, looking Leo’s way. He took in his body language, the cock of his hip and the way he crossed his arms right over his chest.

Leo was in a bad mood.

“C-can’t you bother s-someone else?” Donnie huffed, setting aside the washed dish to grab another, “I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what? Coming up with a new way to disappoint your family?” Leo laughed, incredulous and mean, “Thinking of some new dumb robot that’ll inevitably go haywire and explode in your face? Making a new plan to get yourself kidnapped again?”

Donnie didn’t answer, just set another cleaned plate aside to dry.

“Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right.” Leo leaned in closer, “I should start up a bingo sheet of ways you manage to fuck up. See if I can manage to fill the whole board before a month is up. Free space would obviously just be ‘Sucks at Ninjutsu’.”

His tongue felt like it wanted to crawl out of his mouth. He could still feel the bristles of broccoli in his throat, trying to gag him. Carrots that were just too over cooked, feeling almost slimy in the new sauce.

“What other spaces could there be?” Leo mused, “Blowing up another dumb invention.” He counted on his fingers, “Refusing to eat. Never fucking talking. Getting kidnapped, of course. Screwing with mystic shit you were told to leave alone.”

His mouth was simultaneously too wet and too dry. He set the last plate aside and started the quick task of cleaning their utensils. These were easy. He could get this done and just leave.

“Saying something is bad when there’s literally nothing wrong with it.” Leo was still. Fucking. Going. “Getting sick again. Breaking your dumb glasses. I’d say disappointing Dad, but there’s so many ways you manage to do that that I’d have to split it into multiple spots!”

Spoons were easy. A quick scrub with a rag and they could be set aside.

His throat caught and he had to pause to stop himself from gagging.

“Oh, how about managing to ruin some of Mikey’s art with your dumb experiments and pissing him off? That’s a good one! Not common, it’ll be hard to tick that box off, but man when you piss off Mikey you really make sure to go all out!”

Forks. Finish the forks. Get the gunk out from between the tines and set them aside.

Fuck, he got wet food on his fingers and now he could feel the slimy texture over his palms, mixing with the soapy water in a textural nightmare.

“I could make two separate boxes for you breaking our plumbing and our entertainment systems with your idiotic upgrades and repairs.”

Why wouldn’t Leo ever just shut up? His stupid tongue always flapping away like he was paid per word that fell from his stupid lips. It wasn’t good enough for him to embarrass them constantly in front of Splinter, he had to come and individually harass them?

Forks were done. Last thing was the veggie knife.

He could take it and use it to cut out Leo’s tongue.

His eyes went wide as he stared at his hands. He could so easily envision it, grasping the knife and just quickly shoving it into his brother’s mouth. He didn’t need to be stronger than Leo, just had to surprise him. He would never expect it, he was vulnerable. Just wait until he opened his mouth to laugh at his own cruel jokes and slam the blade into his open maw. If he was lucky, the damage would be bad enough that he’d completely lose the ability to speak.

He quickly tossed the knife onto the drying rack and drained the sink.

“Man you’re such a space case.” Leo rolled his eyes again, pushing off the counter to start walking out of the kitchen, “Maybe I’ll go borrow some art supplies from Mikey to make my bingo cards.”

With that, he was gone, leaving Donnie with the vision of him laying on the ground, mouth bloodied and fear in his eyes.

The bad texture in his mouth was gone.

——

Tee hee

-Monster Anon

Where did you find this scene of my brother harassing me- the way I’ve imagined putting knives in his suitcase so he’d stab himself when he goes to unpack it. The way I’ve imagined bashing his head in while he’s talking to me <3

I’ve never experienced this kind of ghost-texture issues. Once it’s down that’s usually it for me. Though the lingering tastes can be excruciating.

Anyway I loved reading this and I’m going to eat it <<33