#i actually did a background which you should look at if ya can

[fanficsat12am]

how the brothers react to you listening after they were interrupted I Lucifer & Mammon

📜 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃!! 📜 Buy me a coffee? Leviathan, Satan & Asmodeus

Lucifer

He was a demon whose presence alone can catch a whole room’s attention. You can easily spot it from how he displayed himself—an epitome of perfection.

But alas, it wasn't always as easy to be heard when it came to his brothers. It seemed as if the only time they'd actually do so was when it felt like the whole Devildom could hear his booming voice. But who can blame them, there are 7 of them living under one roof after all. 

It was dinner time and he was in the middle of talking about an encounter with a rowdy demon when was interrupted by one of his siblings. This then prompted another response from one of them to another, and another until it was all just a cacophony of unintelligible talking. Each time he'd try to continue, his efforts proved to be futile, being once again interrupted. He eventually ceased trying altogether and opted to just listen, knowing full well he'd never get to finish. At least that’s what he thought. 

He looked across from him to meet your eyes. They weren't bolting about trying to keep up with the conversation of the others, they were set on him and only him. "Don't stop now! What'd you do?" you asked.

It felt nice, to say the least. He could not deny the warmth that had spread in his chest, knowing his once-shot pride was slowly being mended back together. Although he’s not surprised, considering how you’d happily lend an ear to listen whenever he’d talk about his exhausting days—this instance being no different.

As per our request, he continued on, the incomprehensible chatter fading into the background. The two of you would be in your own little bubble, with Lucifer telling tales as back as hundreds of years ago. Not too long after, his brothers were fascinated as well, enjoying the sense of nostalgia his tales brought. It all eventually ends with only the two of you still at the table—you being left in awe and Lucifer feeling a sense of being appreciated as well as appreciating you.

“I hope you found my stories enjoyable, My Love. If you wish to hear more, I'd be happy to humor you”

“I don't know how you'll be able to beat that one time when you and Mammon switched bodies for a while”

He clamps a hand over your mouth before you can add further salt to that memory of his.

“Shshshshsh. Some stories should never meet the light of day again”

Mammon

It’s not uncommon for the second born to be drowned out by his brothers. He typically just sulks and adds to the conversation by providing sounds of protest and agreement, but he never gets to fully share with the group.

Despite this, it gives him comfort that there’s at least one person who he knows would hear him even in a place as loud as the HoL. 

In the midst of the chaos, he felt a light tap on his hand. Looking up, he found you staring at him with curious eyes. "What happened next?" you asked, accompanied by a tilt of your head. If he was being completely honest, he was just trying to show off to his brothers— not really expecting someone to actually care which caught him off guard. Now that he did catch someone’s attention, he of course had to sprinkle in some exaggeration, no? He's not called The Great Mammon for Nothing.

He enjoys the feeling of having a spotlight on him. Your spotlight to be specific. He liked hogging your attention like the greedy little gremlin he is, and he’s not afraid to admit it. He’d start to ramble and would have a mix-match of different topics, jumping from one to another totally unrelated story. 

In the chance that you were sharing something at the table and get interrupted by one of his brothers, he doesn’t hesitate to immediately cut them off, no matter what you were about to say. He didn't even realize he did it—the action merely feeling like a knee jerk reaction to him.

"Oi oi oi! Shut yer traps for a minute will ya. MC was in the middle of something”

“...I need to go to the bathroom?”

“Tell us more" He said, the ends of his hands meeting as if in a prayer pose.

[wildemaven]

he makes life better | joel miller

-> pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x reader

-> word count: 1335

-> content warning: 18+ blog; bad day, annoyed with work, dealing with flat tire, joel being sweet, lots of fluff

-> note: this is for my sweet friend @gnpwdrnwhiskey hoping this brings a smile to her face 💞 this isn’t beta’d either so it’s probably filled with mistakes lol.

masterlist

Joel ❤️: How’s your day going Honey?

I’m so ready for my shift to be over. I’d rather read the dictionary, front to back, than deal with the shit they have me doing today. 

RING

“That bad, huh?” Joel’s voice brings you an instant smile when you answer his call, silently stepping away from the mess that you were dealing with at work. 

“You have no idea. It already feels like it’s been the longest week, today has just added to the shit show life keeps throwin’ at me lately. Went to leave for work this morning and I had a flat tire. Ugh! I’m sorry for complaining.” You vent to him, tucking yourself in a secluded corner. You were going against policy by taking a personal call while on the clock, but you didn’t care about company policy or the outcome of you were to get caught at the moment— Joel was your only focus right now. 

“Hey, none of that. Don’t apologize for being stressed. Why didn’t ya call me ‘bout your tire?” Joel asked. 

You know he would’ve dropped everything the minute did call him, which is also why you didn’t. He had been stressing over starting at a new job site, one of the biggest ones he had been hired for. The last thing you wanted was to add to his already busy day of things he had to deal with. 

“You’d already left for work and had that new job you’ve been talkin’ about. Didn’t wanna bother you with it. I called AAA and had them put the spare on for me so I could drop it off at the tire shop. Now, I’m unexpectedly the owner of 4 new tires.” 

“I don’t care how busy I am— you need something, you call me, no matter what. Got that, Honey?” 

“Got it, Joel. Thank you.” You smile into the phone at his concern for you, always finding ways to make you fall even deeper in love with him. 

“Good. Hey, I gotta go. Tommy looks like he’s about ready to break his back. I should probably go help him before he actually does and my insurance takes a hit. I’ll see ya tonight then, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah. I should be outta here in 3 hours.” The end to your long shift, almost over. 

“That sounds great! I love you, Honey. I’ll see ya later.” You can faintly hear Tommy cursing in the background. 

“Love you too, Joel.” You tell him before the line goes dead. Giving yourself a few minutes of quiet before heading back to join your team and the never ending line of customers. 

The rest of your shift goes by fairly quickly. Joel’s phone call must have been just the moral boost you needed to sprinkle a little bit of extra positivity into your day.

The minute the clock hit 5 pm, you wasted no time clocking out and logging out of your computer for the day. Deliberately bypassing your usual exit path to avoid any chatty coworkers, Joel and home your main focus of the rest of your day, you weren’t going to waste any time stuck in drawn out conversations. 

Your purse thrown over your shoulder, work apron crumpled in one hand and the other holding your empty tumbler that once held the warm delicious coffee you had hoped would sustain you through the day, now wishing it was filled with something a little stronger to help you unwind when you got home. 

It’s a struggle trying to juggle your things as you search for your keys, lost somewhere in the depths of your purse along with the rest of your life's necessities. You pause in the middle of an empty parking space near where your jeep is parked to give the search your full attention. After some thorough digging, you locate your keys and let out an exasperated sigh, one step closer to being home. 

Taking a step forward as you press the unlock button on your key, you look up to see an unexpected sight. A familiar truck in the parking spot next to yours, and the most handsome man leaning on it. He looks like he came straight from the job sight, too. His peppered grey hair disheveled, but his soft curls were still intact even after a long day. The sleeves of your favorite green flannel are rolled up over his flexed forearms that are crossed against his chest, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders. 

The sight of him is enough to melt away any of the bullshit you had endured over the past week, a completely welcomed surprise. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, letting your feet carry you the rest of the way to him. 

“Heard you were havin’ a shitty day. Couldn’t let my lady end it on a bad note.” He croons, pushing himself off the side of his truck, opening his arms to you. 

You melt into him, your face nestled into his shoulder. His rugged scent of musky vanilla and natural pheromones is permanently infused into the fibers of his shirt, it’s your favorite thing ever. His strong arms wrap around you as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, prompting you to straighten up, looking into his amber eyes. 

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beam at him. 

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to gently mold his lips over yours. “I’ve got a surprise for ya, Honey.” 

“This was enough of a surprise for me. What more could I need?” Stealing another kiss from him. 

“If I tell ya, it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” He says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you. 

“I guess you have a point.” 

“We’ve gotta get going though, it’s time sensitive.” He grabs for your things and walks you around to the passenger door, holding it open as you climb in. “We’ll grab your jeep in the mornin’, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.” He leans back in for another kiss, before making his way around into the driver’s seat. 

*

The drive isn’t long. Down some familiar roads that lead to a dirt one off the main highway. His truck travels down the gravel road lined with a barbed wire fence. After a few minutes he’s pulling off to the side and killing the engine. 

“You brought me to my favorite place.” Looking over to his side of the truck, where he’s already looking in your direction. Your heart grows at how he thought to bring you here, knowing how much joy it brings you every time. 

“Thought you could use it. Look, here they come.” He says pointing to your window. 

Off in the distance, the small herd of cows were in pursuit of their evening meal and water break. Mamas with their little rambunctious calves trailing behind, trekking along the same path they travel each evening. 

It’s a calming sight. Their heads bobbling with each dramatic step. Tails whipping over their rear ends to swat away the annoying flies. A few stopping mid trek to look in your direction, letting out a long drawn out moo. Their friendly hello, it’s good to see you again, then back on the move. 

The sky is painted in pinks and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Your day feeling less shitty as you sit silently in the cab of Joel’s truck. His hand resting on your thigh while his thumb draws soft circles over thick denim seam. 

“Thank you for this. Didn’t realize how much I needed it. I love you, Joel.” You tell him, rolling your head over the headrest in his direction. 

“I did it because I love you, Honey. And s’what I’m here for.” There’s a low rumble in the air as he turns the key over, shifting the truck into drive. “Now, how ‘bouts we head on home and I spend the rest of the evenin’ show you all the other ways I love you?”

“Take me home, Cowboy.” 

[stellari-s]

a promise i want to keep . . .

request; it was a prompt from @judejazza hehe ✨✨ and requests are currently open!

wc; 1 958.

tags; jude jazza x gn! fairytale keeper! reader, injury fic, slight presence of blood, may be kinda ooc (this is my first time writing for jude and ikevil), pain inflicted on reader, best to assume pre-established relationship, jude is softer if you squint a bit 👀

summary; you had gotten injured after a mission because you took a hit for jude, but roger is out right now, and so who ends up treating your injuries? well, who else is there but jude?

you had made a mistake — except that you hadn’t. that is to say: you didn’t think you made a mistake, but in the eyes of the man before you, he apparently seemed to think otherwise.

“ow ow ow, jude,” you hiss, gritting your teeth together in an attempt to distract yourself from the sharp sting on your arm inflicted by a certain ruthless fairy. “be more gentle—please.”

“gentle?” jude repeats your words, albeit with a more cold tone and wicked grin. “i betcha you’re hopin’ for that quack of a doctor to come and treat your wounds so ‘gently’ right about now, but what a shame he’s out. the goddess of luck just ain’t on your side today.”

actually, you don’t mind being with jude... not that you’d admit such a thing to his face.

that, and you could find it in your heart to, i don’t know, be a little more nice.

despite that, though, you know that jude very well could have just left you there. if he was a truly harsh, truly cruel person that others may make him out to be, that would be exactly what he would’ve done. when you think of it like that, you really can’t bring yourself to mind.

that alone was enough to give you a sense of comfort.

you start to retreat into the confines of your own thoughts, and for a while, that is enough to withdraw you from the pain of the wound, letting it fade into a throbbing ache in the background.

that is, until another sharp pain brings you (unpleasantly) back to your senses. “ack, jude, really, if i wasn’t watching you, i would’ve thought you were out to reopen my wound, not treat it, i swear.”

“aw, does it hurt? what a shame ya won’t be protectin’ me next time.” his voice drips with sarcasm, but the next moment his smirk drops into a more serious, or maybe angry, expression. “if ya got the time to complain to me, ya got the time to sit and reflect how much of an idiot ya were back there. should i maybe look at your head first? or if ya prefer to reflect, you can sit on your knees to reflect yourself.”

“i don’t need to be on my knees for you to treat my arm,” you manage to talk back, your shoulders raising and eyes narrowing in a defensive posture.

you had responded the way you did in a somewhat sore attempt to hide how hurt you had felt by the words that pierced through your heart like a blade lathered with a generous coating of poison.

to your surprise, though, you see the silver-haired man before you grin. “oh? seems at least you got some guts.” jude then narrows his purple eyes, which reminds you of a field of violets in a moonlit night and makes you feel strangely calm, as he clicks his tongue in exasperation. “but talk ‘bout a joke goin’ over the head,” he mutters, though his hands continue to clean the wound. it seems he is no longer interested in pressing on the wound purposely for his own amusement.

“...it doesn’t hurt as much.”

the comment was meant for yourself, but it seems it had reached jude’s ears as he directs a glare in your direction. “yeah? want me to do it again?”

you feel a shiver rush up your spine like a spider crawling upwards, causing you to stiffen in place.

“n-no thank you.”

you two fall into a silence after this, letting jude focus on your wound. occasionally you hear him mutter how he was going to make roger pay tenfold for increasing his workload, but it doesn’t escape you how he still pays close attention to your wound.

as he does, the weight of your actions from the mission finally settle in your mind.

at first, when jude had called you an “idiot,” it really did hurt your feelings. you know his words are intentionally harsh, and if he wanted to be nice, he would find a way to twist those words to make them sound mean. but thinking back on the incident that had landed you two in the basement of crown castle as “doctor” and patient, you know the words he had spoken are the truth, even though he had casually waved it off as a “joke.”

— some time ago.

“jude, are you sure we should just walk back? we can always hail a carriage.”

“nah, the mission from queenie’s officially over, but there’s something i gotta check first. goin’ by foot’s faster in this case. if ya going to stick with me though then don’t get in my way.”

as a fairytale keeper, you don’t have an obligation to stick with jude any longer. if you wanted, you could simply go back to the castle, write the report, and submit it to victor. but there is a miniscule feeling tugging in your chest.

perhaps it was an innocent curiosity. a sudden, maybe “idiotic” feeling bubbling inside you urges you to nod your head, say “yes, let me come with” regardless of any rationale. it threatened to overflow.

outside of missions, what was jude like? you knew he ran another business, and that he has made a sea of enemies by now, but what else?

“…please take me with you, jude.”

a smirk graces jude’s lips. “just remember ya asked for it, so don’t come runnin’ to me if ya end up cryin’.”

the meaning of those words would sink in soon after, when apparently someone who is within this vast “sea of enemies” charges head-on toward jude from a blind spot.

jude starts to turn around, but when you see the silver gleam of a knife, your body moves on your own.

he could have protected himself all right. you know that well in your head.

so why did you take a blow for him? for jude, of all people? was it some attempt to cling onto any sense of justice in this dark world that muddled your sense of morality, maybe?

by now, jude had started wrapping gauze around your arm. you simply watch the bright red of your own blood spread like a flower blooming on the white of the fabric.

“…jude?”

“yeah?”

you had thought you were ready to confess your thoughts to him, but much to your chagrin, once you actually open your mouth to speak, the words come out with a slightly trembling, hesitant quality.

“about what you said before. i think… you were right.” you suck in a breath to try and recompose yourself (to little avail). “what i did back there was… idiotic, as you say. i’ll admit that.”

jude doesn’t respond, but you can tell he is listening, even without making eye contact with him.

you take his silence as a cue to continue — or rather, to finish your thought. “but, i don’t think that makes me, as a person, an idiot.”

jude scoffs. “a person is defined by their actions, whether they like it or not. if ya got good intentions but the way ya go ‘bout it is shitty, there ain’t no one who’ll give a damn.”

“that’s quite funny coming from you,” you blurt out before thinking, earning yourself a sharp look from those stormy violet eyes of his.

“ya know that’s besides the point, smartie. if ya really want me to think otherwise, i hope you’re prepared to pay back the debt ya owe. if not… well, at least ya ain’t idiotic enough to not know.”

he finishes wrapping the gauze around your arm then, though he doesn’t let go without giving your arm another squeeze, a threatening motion in its essence.

“ouch! okay, alright, i get it! i will pay you back, so stop squeezing my arm and pressing on the wound!!”

“next time don’t go dawdlin’ around tryin’ to protect me if all ya gonna do is get hurt and give me more work on my plate.”

you see jude’s eyes glare at you, maybe even gleaming slightly due to the lighting. his expression doesn’t bother to conceal his annoyance either. but once again you had come to the realization that — twisted as it was — this was his way of warning you, as one may arguably remember best through pain.

it was his way of protecting you.

his words were mean, but he never once abandoned you; he never left you behind. hell, here he was, probably having better things to do right about now, treating your arm (though that was only because roger was out).

the thought tickles your mind and makes a smile break out on your lips as you try to stifle laughter. jude, on the other hand, doesn’t seem so amused.

“ah? the hell’s so funny?”

“nothing.” more stifled laughter.

“aw, ya can’t be that much of a freak.” jude once again has that wicked smirk playing on his lips, glowing in his eyes. “how ‘bout i sew your mouth shut first for lyin’ through your teeth?”

“say what you want, but i know you won’t actually go through the pain of doing that.”

when you see jude’s eyes widen slightly, you can’t help but let out a small victory cheer in the depth of your heart for catching him off guard, even a little bit.

it was a small victory indeed, though, for jude managed to recover quickly.

“well if ya can go ‘n talk back to me like that, guess ya feel better.”

now it is your turn to feel surprised as jude suddenly lets go, turning his back on you and walking back upstairs in long strides. you lift your arms to reach out for him, unable to move more than that due to surprise for a brief moment. when you can move, you jump off the table on which you sat while jude was treating you to follow after him.

“ah… hey, jude! wait for me! would it kill you to walk a little slower?!”

though you can’t see his expression from where you are (and so you could be completely wrong), you have an inkling at least he isn’t wearing as harsh an expression as he had when he was facing you.

[jude seemed a little mad today.

i do get where he is coming from, too, i really do. that said, a part of me felt that if i hadn’t taken the hit for him, then he would have taken it for me. i’m not sure if he respects me at this point (maybe he just finds me annoying) but still, i’m convinced it’s in his nature to protect others.

like a guardian fairy, he can’t… not protect others. even if it’s in his own, jude way.

that’s why i couldn’t help thinking if jude is the one protecting others, then who is there to protect him?

maybe that person isn’t me, and i think i ended up in jude’s debt rather than earning any semblance of thanks. but even so, i can’t help but feel i want to become that person someday.

perhaps it’s simply naïveté, but that’s why until that day may come, i hope i can at least stay by his side.

“what a shame you won’t be protecting me next time…”

i know you probably won’t see this note, jude, but i just want to say that unfortunately, i don’t think this will stop me from trying in the future, nor do i really regret it.

——after all, just like you have your own promise you want to keep, i, too, have one of my own i do not want to break.]

(found on a crumpled notebook page, ripped neatly out from the book)

[jhilsara]

I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

Mariana Jimenez-Watson or MJ works in a normal pub living life paycheck to paycheck. Nothing exciting happens to her except the occasional drunk getting thrown out. She's 24 working away and finds a wrench thrown into her very boring life. His name is Hobie and she thinks maybe, a little excitement isn't awful. In fact she might start to crave some change for once.

Small moments of Hobie meeting his world's MJ. AKA I made an MJ variant and I think she's neat.

Chapter 13

Hobie’s over and they’re both just lounging on her couch. It’s a rare day she has off and so far, nothing crazy has happened to set off Hobie’s police scanner. He had been coming over more often. When he's not at her flat, she’s managed to wiggle her way onto his house boat a time or two. It’s nice for them to hang out and it not be at her place of work. Not that she doesn’t enjoy the pub, but she can’t have any intimate moments with Hobie.

Not that she’s trying to be intimate with Hobie, but they’ve definitely been touchier as of recent…

By touchy she means actively kissing her friend, who she doesn’t think she’s dating and doesn’t want to ask if they are. Mostly because she doesn’t know how she would even want him to answer.

Which is why instead of over analyzing her feelings for her best friend she’s instead choosing to push it under the surface and try to just enjoy the moments she does have.

She’s laying on the couch but her legs are drapped on top of Hobie’s. One of his hands sits in between her thighs, just holding her in place. His other hand is lazily drumming a soundless tune on her leg. His attention only half on the television playing in the background. His full attention is really on her as she tries to curate a perfect playlist for them.

“Should I organize it in a specific order or just let it shuffle?” She asks mindlessly as she’s scrolling through her music.

“It’s a classic mixtape if ya plan it out yea? Make the order matter right?” He hums to her in suggestion.

“Mmm I didn’t think about it like that. Oh!” She has an idea and sits up to look at him better. “What if we did it like a real mix tape? Side A and Side B, but like we curate one side each.” She says with a bright smile.

He nods in agreement, “I like that. So that’s ten songs each yeah?”

She makes a small noise of satisfaction and plops back down. “Let’s put them on a separate playlist and we can share them together when it’s done, it’ll be a surprise.” She suggests.

They had been doing this for the past couple of hours, just sharing music. MJ suggested they make a playlist to share with each other. It’s escalated into this mixtape.

She’s tapping away on her phone scrolling through song after song, “I don’t know if it’s harder or better that I only get to pick ten songs…” She murmurs to herself.

Hobie’s just watching her with a small smile tugging at his lips. It’s a real peaceful moment between them.

“Choices, choices, choices.” He whispers back leaning toward her.

She looks up from her phone to see him hovering over her with a smile. She pulls her phone against her chest.

“No cheating! It’s not fair if you look before I’m done. That ruins the point of sharing music.” She says giggling.

He rolls his eyes but backs away, keeping his hands on her thighs. “Fine fine, I won’t look.” He leans back into the couch and starts tapping an unknown rhythm against her leg.

Her face scrunches up as she looks through her songs, trying to find the songs she relates to. She is nervous about sharing her stuff with him though… Hobie actually writes and performs music. It’s a small added pressure she wasn’t expecting.

Hobie moves one of his hands to grab her cheek, making her look up at him.

“Relax, you’re thinking too hard about it.” He tells her in a soothing voice.

She rolls her eyes but gives him a soft smile, “I know but, I don’t know, I feel like I’m thirteen and you’ll be hyper critical over my music taste.” She mumbles.

He looks at her with a straight face, “I will be hyper critical.” He says in faux seriousness.

“Oh, piss off!” she laughs shoving him away. She readjusts herself to sit up and face him. “That’s not helpful.” She jokes.

He rolls his eyes, “MJ it’s fine. Whatever you put on there won’t change how I feel about ya. Relax.” He gives her a toothy smile and musses her hair.

She bats his hands away and frowns, “Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

He grabs her waist and pulls her to his lap, wrapping his arms around her and slotting his head on her shoulder. “It’s fiiiiiiiiiiine promise.” He presses a kiss to her cheek drawling out his words. 

She turns to look at him relaxing into his hold. She hums in satisfaction at his response.

“Okay, I need to get up or I’ll get sleepy like this.” She tells him starting to wiggle.

He groans in response and locks his arms around her, “Too late, I’ve trapped ya with my superior spider strength.” He tells her jokingly.

She laughs and tries to worm her way out of his hold. “That’s not fair!” She groans in response pushing down on his arms. Which are definitely not budging.

He just grunts as a reply and keeps his hold on her, his laugh vibrating down her back. It sends a chill through her spine.

She opens her mouth to respond to him but before she can they both hear the buzz of the police radio. Hobie sighs and shoves his face into her back, groaning in annoyance.

They both listen in and catch something about a break in down a block of locally owned storefronts.

He releases his grip on her, “Can’t steal from the giant corporations like the rest of us, gotta be the mom and pop shops.” He mutters under his breath.

She just chuckles in response and turns to face him, giving him a soft kiss.

“Guess you better go then tiger.” She says softly.

His face heats up, “That’s new.” He chuckles a bit looking down at her.

Her face burns red, “Do you not like it?” she asks now a little embarrassed.

“No, no, no! I liked it, just different is all.” He chuckles nervously.

“Oh my god, okay, go go! Moments over.” She covers her face in embarrassment.

He smiles and tugs her hands away pressing a soft kiss to her, “It’s cute, like it.”

He pulls away quickly and backs up to her balcony, pulling on his spider mask, “I’ll be back, promise.” He tells her shooting a web and diving off her balcony.

She rushes over to door and shouts after him, “You better come back!”

She sees him wave back to her before he’s gone from her sight. She sighs and fidgets for a moment before walking back to her couch.

She opens her phone and starts shuffling through her music.

Hobie comes back to her flat, tired and with a sore back. Upon entering he notices she’s laying on the couch. He tries to not make much noise and peaks over the couch to see her passed out, phone in hand and music softly playing.

He gives a soft snort and gently pries her phone from her hands. He opens it and sees she’s been meticulously crafting her portion of their shared mixtape. He grins to himself and starts the playlist from the start. He’s too enamored by the thought of her sitting here the whole time fussing over what songs she was going to pick, it has him grinning from ear to ear.

He sits and listens to the playlist in order, it only take around forty minutes, give or take. He sits on the edge of the couch running his hand lazily through MJ’s hair, she doesn’t move except to turn over once.

She’s a deep sleeper and he’s thankful for that right now. He’s crafting his half of the mixtape as the music pours from her speakers. He’s jotting them down in his head. It’ll be a pleasant surprise when she finds it.

Once he’s done listening he takes her phone and adds his own half. Some songs are easy to add, others he had to think on a little bit. One just makes him chuckle a bit and he doesn’t hesitate to add it.

He finishes adding his half and looks over it, checking it one last time to see if he wanted to make any changes.

He nods to himself and sets her phone down. He looks over to MJ on the couch and decides she should probably be in her bed, it was late.

He picks her up gently, nestling her in his arms. She makes a small noise but doesn’t wake up. She squirms for a moment pressing her face into his chest, searching for his warmth. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead and walks her to her room.

He lays her down and she rolls off of him easier than normal. She sighs and nuzzles into her pillow, getting more comfortable.

He covers his face turning away for a moment, finding the moment too sweet. He leaves her room and goes to take a shower. He knew he was going to stay at her place the moment they were lounging around all day. Her flat was just so comfortable…she was comfortable.

When MJ wakes up she’s in her bed and she feels strong arms around her waist. She turns to look over her shoulder and sees Hobie pressed against her. He’s wide awake and grins as he sees her looking at him sleepily.

“G’mornin’ sunshine.” He murmurs.

“What time is it?” She asks, her words slurring together groggily.

“Probably around one in the morning. Maybe later?” He whispers to her.

She sighs and nods her head. She wiggles herself so she’s facing him and wraps her arms around his waist bringing him closer to her. She shoves her face into his chest and mumbles something under her breath.

“What was that?” He asks amused.

She mumbles again, voice still too low and words mushed together for him to know.

“Missed you.” She says more clearly, looking up at him, face red.

He grins and moves one hand to pinch her cheek. “That’s cute, say it again.” He teases.

She groans and puts her face back into his chest, “Not happening.”

“Aww c’mon? You’re so cute when you get like this.” He grips onto her waist and rolls them so he’s on top of her. He looks down at her, with an amused smirk.

Her face is flushed as she looks up at him. “Stoooooop you’re so-” she rolls her eyes.

“So charming? Funny? Delightful?” He lists off with a chuckle.

She groans, “More like annoying.” She replies.

“Ouch!” He holds his hand over his heart in fake pain. He drops his weight onto her pinning her in place. “Ya wound me! My ego, it’s crushed!” he groans in pain.

She’s laughing but also shoving him off of her, “You’re the one who’s crushing me!”

“Guess I’ll just delete my half of the mixtape then, if I’m so annoying.” He goads grabbing for her phone.

She sits up and snatches it away from him. “What?! You added to it?” She’s immediately opening up her music and looking through what he’s added.

He’s smiling at her and shrugs his shoulders, “Ya had it open when you passed out.”

She whips her head to look at him, “Did you listen to it?” her eyes are wide as she looks at him, almost embarrassed.

He scratches the back of his head, “I did, couldn’t resist.” He leans forward to look at her closer, “Came back and you were napping phone in hand, music playin’… All I could see was your scrunched-up face trying to find the perfect songs.” He grins cheekily at her.

She shoves his shoulder lightly. “Can we listen to it together?” She asks softly.

He throws his head back and groans playfully. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her back down to lay in the bed. Nuzzling his face into her neck.

“So cute…” He mumbles into her. His breath fanning her neck, sending a shiver down her back.

“Hobie…” She drags out his name, almost in warning.

He hums and peaks up at her, “You’re just so cute, can’t help it.” He presses a kiss to her neck.

He pulls back and plucks the phone from her hand and presses play on the playlist. He moves her phone to her bedside table and drags her under the covers with him to snuggle. He slots his head back against her neck, arms clinging tightly to her waist. She in turn wraps her arms him and interweaves their legs together into a knot of limbs. Their breathing evening out as they listen to the music together.

They fall asleep to sound of each other’s hearts and shared songs.

Spotify Playlists can be found here: Mariana / Hobie

Please do not come for the music choices I made, I spent way to long on them and I stand by them. I will not take criticism on this, I will cry. I will add art to them later, but collectively this is about an hour of music.

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

Message if you would like to be added to the tag list!

[blurblicalscripture]

my shy girl

warnings/ SMUTTTTT, weed, unprotected sex (don't fucking do itttt)

pairing/ eddiemunsonxshy!fem!reader

summary/ y/n likes eddie. eddie likes y/n. she's too shy to make the first move, he's too oblivious to make the first move. like most things in eddie's life, [the purchasing of] weed ends up being the solution to the problem

The picnic bench wobbles as you bounce your leg, only steadying as he sits down across from you. "Ah, my favourite customer."

Your palm is sweaty from the bundled up cash you're holding. You squeak out a "Hey."

"So, the usual?" he chirps, digging through for the little baggie. You hum out a "mhmm." You aren't interested in the weed at all as your eyes wander to Eddie. You enjoy the clink of his rings against the metal box, song-like.

A hand waves in front of you. "Earth to y/n?" He lilts.

"Oh, yeah, sorry. What?" You shake your head, still a little fuzzy.

He huffs a laugh. "I said that's twenty five, if you would be so kind." He holds the bag out to you in one hand, his other an open palm, elbows on the table. You flatten out the cash, hand it to him.

It should be thirty. He knows, you know. But you can't argue this with him again. You've lost count of how many times you had lost that battle. "You're my most loyal customer, y/n." He'd say. "It's only fair."

He clasps it in his palm, theatrical. "Pleasure doing business with ya," he says, shoving the cash in his little box and beginning to stand.

"English!" you blurt, a hand coming straight to your cheek. You sort of yelled, but it's Eddie, and he isn't exactly jarred by weird.

"English." He repeats, his tone a lullaby compared to yours. He lowers back on the bench. "What about it?"

"Uh, the english project." You swallow. "I heard that you could use some help."

He taps a finger on his lips, feigned thinking, eyes wandering to the sky above. "That I could."

"Well you obviously don't have to but if you want we can work on it at my house and my parents aren't at home and it'll be quiet. But it's up to you cause I'm sure you have better things—"

He waves his hands. "Y/n." You look at him and shut up, eyes wide. "That sounds good." He draws out the words, slow and measured, as if to reassure you. "I have my van if you want a ride." He points his thumb toward the parking lot, the corners of his lips quirked up softly.

"Yeah, okay." You smile gingerly, grabbing your books. "Did you maybe want to get your textbook from your locker first?"

He chuckles, keeps walking to the van. "I uh, I don't exactly have a textbook for this class. Or any class."

"Oh, right. Well you can use mine if you want."

He stops at the van "Ever so kind, y/n." and opens the passenger door for you.

His van is comfy, same as always. He plays music that's a little loud—not too much, but it makes you feel lively, the bass and drums in your chest—and you even find yourself singing along.

He turns down the volume, Paranoid fades into the background. "You like Black Sabbath? How am I only finding this out now?"

"Oh, um, yeah, and my dad likes 'em too. Paranoid is like one of my favourite albums." You fish in your bag and pull out a cassette tape. "I made this new mix a couple weeks ago actually."

He takes it from your hand, glancing between it and the road. You tense at that, fingers digging into the leather of the seat, but he keeps driving smoothly. He runs his thumb over the neat handwriting.

"Mötley Crüe, Iron Maiden and Metallica! Shit, y/n, I think I've met my match."

"Your partner in crime," you quip.

"The Bonnie to my Clyde."

You both giggle at that. "Don't tell me you're a burglar now. We're going to my house!"

He chuckles. "Speaking of which it's this way, yeah?"

"Almost. Next turn in." You point to the entryway.

"Right, right. I was a little high the last time I was here." He says.

"A little?" You scoff. "You ran over my mom's rhododendrons. I had to tell her it was the neighbour's dog."

"I'll get her new flowers," he huffs.

"No, you won't."

"No, I won't." He's grinning like an idiot.

You room isn't terribly messy but you scramble to shove the pens, books and notebooks off your bed and onto the desk. He has given you a ride home before but never dared enter. You never dared to ask him in.

"Sorry, I was up studying last night," you murmur as you neaten up. There are a couple cans of red bull on the pillow and you sweep them into the little trash bin. You opt to leave the cassettes and walkman on the bed.

"I would say I get what you mean but I'm not exactly renowned for my studious tendencies." He glances over at the books like they're written in another language. "But I have had my fair share of all-nighters."

"Playing at The Hideout until dawn then passing out in your van after does not count." You joke. He laughs and your stomach jumps.

"Right. So, where do we start with this project." He moves over to the bed, sitting close as you flip through the textbook. Your thighs touch.

"Well, we have to argue here that Othello's downfall is his own fault, not Iago's." You point out each character, explaining with your hands. He watches closely.

"And on the other hand we have to argue that Desdemona isn't as innocent as people assume she is. Then we tie both arguments together to explain the tragedy."

"Ok. Lead the way." He says.

About two hours later you're surrounded by half-eaten snacks, more empty Redbulls and a stack of various tapes.

"This Othello guy, he really loves that Desdemaria."

"It's Desdemona. And loves?" You drop the flash cards onto the bed. "He literally kills her." You chuckle.

"Well, yeah, but only cause he was so mad that she betrayed him." His tone is light, as if he's still pondering. "And he did it to redeem her, you know, so she could go to heaven or whatever. That's kind of love, right?" He rests his chin on his palm, knees crossed up on the bed.

"That's kind of beautiful, Eds. And brilliant. Write that down," you order, gesturing with a pen. He can't help his laugh, murmuring a subtle 'okay bossy.'

"What was that?"

"Nothingggg," he drawls, scribbling down the note. "Now, this is officially the longest I have ever sat down and worked so I think it's time for a break."

He gets up before you can stop him and walks over to the shelf with books, CDs, cassettes; all of your junk.

"This is cute," he says, holding up a framed photo of you and a sad looking, very wet cat. "Yellow galoshes were very in back then."

"Totally, but Bat wasn't a big fan of the rain. Hated getting his ears wet."

"Bat?" He sets back down the frame ever so gently. "Interesting name for a kitty." You continue to speak as he looks through the book titles, nerves in your stomach mixed with some other warm feeling. There's something intimate about having Eddie look around your room.

"I couldn't say my Cs when I was little." You laugh. "He kind of suited it though. He had little flabby bits under his arms that looked like wings." You gesture to your underarm, jiggle it a little. He chuckles.

"There's a cat just like that living under my trailer." He scans the highest shelf as he speaks, balanced on his toes. "I just call her Mews though. Sometimes she'll come up and— wait, what is this?"

You startle off the bed, terrified of what he has found. "Oh, God, what?"

He holds out a sizeable bag of weed.

"Oh, I-" you start.

"If you needed me to teach you how to roll up you should have just asked," he says, fishing for some papers in his pocket. "Can't believe you've been buying from me all this time and haven't smoked any of it." He's shaking his head but smiling nonetheless.

"Oh, it's okay, Eddie. I...I don't smoke." You place a palm over his hands, stop him from peeling open the bag. Suddenly you feel overwhelmingly guilty, your voice gets smaller. "You can have it back if you want. Sorry if I wasted your time." You stare at your shoes.

He puts the bag on the shelf. "You could never." You look at him now, his eyes honeyed brown. "Like I said, you're my favourite customer, but that's not cause you bought so much weed." He's grinning, laughing airily. "Like, a ridiculous amount of weed. But really. You're great to talk to, y'know."

"Really?"

"Sure thing. That, and the fact that you look real pretty when we do talk. You get all flustered and shy." He's smirking.

"Shut up." You shove his arm. "Let's finish this dumb project."

You sit a little closer now, knees crossed under you both and nearly touching as you swap pages of notes to read. But none of it is going in. The words are buzzing on your tongue.

"Eddie?"

He looks up at you.

"I like to talk to you, too."

He shuffled closer, your knees touch. The cutouts on his jeans line up just right; you're skin to skin.

"That's good to know," he drawls, shit eating smirk plastered across both cheeks that fades as fast as it had appeared. "But wait, why the weed?"

You flush from the neck upwards. "Didn't know how else to talk to you," you mumble, but he hears you. "It's also why I kept coming to the Hideout."

"Ohhh, see now that makes sense. Lovely thing like you doesn't belong in that dump." His fingers play with the straggly bits of his ripped jeans, knuckles brushing your knee. He moves his hand up, barely grazing your thigh. "I can't believe you did all that just to talk to me."

You cover your eyes with your fingertips, press hard. "It's dumb, I know," you say. But he doesn't think so.

Eddie takes your wrists, slides his hands up so his palms are against yours. His fingers are warm, calloused and smooth.

"It's not. It's really not." He says, leaning forward.

You whisper "Eddie." And close your eyes.

"Tell me to stop and I'll stop."

You press your lips to his. They're wet, plump from his nibbling. Your hands come to the nape of his neck, hold onto the hair tight. He shudders, pulls back.

"Have you done anything like this before?" His voice is achingly soft, a little higher than you expect. His fingers come to hold your face, thumbs pressed into the space under your eye. You could laugh, cry, shout into the pillows.

"Uh, not with anybody. I tried by myself before but I couldn't figure out how to..." you trail off.

"That's okay. You want to?"

You nod.

"Words please, shy girl," his thumb swipes over your lip.

"Yes, Eddie. Yes."

His hands move to the hem of your shirt. "Can I?" He waits. You lift your arms over your head.

Your bra has a little pink bow right at the centre, but the lining is black. He's hard already. "This just for me?" he asks.

"Uh, kind of," you're smiling a little through the words. "Wear stuff like this normally anyway though. It's soft, see." You, ever so innocent, bring his hand up to feel the band under your arm, just before the cup.

"It is. You're beautiful, though. Don't need this thing." His hands slide back to the clasp. "Can I?"

You breathe out a "yeah."

Not long after he's between your legs and similarly in a state of undress, his tongue flicking at your clit, just one finger working your pulpy walls open but it has you keening.

Your skin is balmy, hands resting on your ribs as you watch him over your rising and falling chest. "Can you cum for me, pretty girl? It'll be easier if you cum first," he says, "if you want to do that part today." He pauses and you whine.

"Yes, please. P-please, Eddie, don't stop." Your hands find his hair, scratching at his scalp. Your back arches up as he adds another finger, cooing at your little sounds of pleasure.

"Such a good girl, gonna give it to me now, yeah?" He sucks harsh on the bead of your clit, tongue pressed flat against it inside his mouth.

"Yes, Eddie, I-ah!" You moan, high in the back of your throat, breaths heavy and quick. Your legs shudder, closing on his head, and he laughs into your cunt, pushing one thigh back out with his free hand.

"Fuck, babydoll, there you are. That's it," he praises as he lays off your clit when you squeal, still gently stroking his fingers up, up, up inside your fluttering walls.

You clasp his cheeks between your hands, bring him up to your face. You're still a little breathless when you ask for a kiss. He happily gives it to you.

Against his lips you plead "Eddie, I want you inside, please. 'M ready now, promise."

He's scooping you up then, both arms steady around your back, and puts you in his lap. Your legs are spread over his, though he's still in his boxers and you tug at the band.

"Off, please."

"So needy. Who knew my shy girl had it in her, hmm?" You do your best to hover over him on shakey legs as he shuffles the boxers off, wiggles them down his legs.

"You ok to be on top? Want you to go at your own pace," he says, hands firm on your waist. You nod at him, baby hairs stuck to your wet forehead.

His eyes are soft, caring, something akin to adoration glimmering in them. "It's probably gonna hurt a little, okay, but not for long. You want to stop at all and we stop, okay? Don't try keep going, even for me."

You press your fingers into the back of his neck, interlocked. "I trust you, Eddie." You rest on his shoulder, suckle at his neck. You love the little purple hues left behind.

You go to move, hesitate. "Can you-I'm not sure how to..."

"Sh, it's okay, I'll talk you through it. Just sit up on your knees for a sec, okay." He takes one hand off your waist, lines himself up. Feeling his head swipe up and down your slit has your knees already buckling. His grip on your flesh tightens.

"Ok. Now, slowly, sit down and take whatever you can. Doing so good for me." He kisses your cheek.

You look down and watch as you lower yourself, knees a little creaky. The second his tip breaches your entrance you yelp, a sharp pinch that had you squeezing your eyes shut.

"You're okay, breathe for me, gorgeous," Eddie says, both hands now on your hips, holding you steady. You heave a breath, sink down more and more.

You relax as the full feeling of Eddie being inside you takes over. He feels heavy inside you, not too thick but enough that your walls can pleasantly squeeze around him.

He's groaning the whole time, lips on your temple murmuring praises into the skin. The second you're fully seated you both gasp, the stretch and depth of him becoming comfortable inside you.

"Shit, you feel perfect inside. So soft and warm." He lets out little grunts, trying to stay as still as he can. You rock your hips forward, clit catching his pubic bone.

"Ah, Eddie! Fuck. So deep." You keep up the rocking, little moans at the beginning of each breath. Eddie's mouth drinks them down.

You stop for a second, walls clenching tight around him. "Is-does it feel ok for you?"

"Yeah, it's better than I could ever even imagine, babe." He brushes hair off your forehead. You wanna try something else?" He moves his hands to your back, slides down to hold the back of your thighs. "Try bounce a little, okay?"

You do as you're told, the drag of his cock along your walls is heavenly. He hisses between his teeth. "Shit, that's it, that's really fucking good, babe."

You lean back on your knees for better leverage and suddenly he's hitting your sweet spot every single time. You nearly scream, clamping a hand over your mouth. Eddie is quick to hold your wrist.

"Nuh uh, lovely girl, want you to make some of those wicked little sounds for me, yeah?" He places two fingers on your clit, pressing down and rubbing quick.

"Oh, Eddie, I think I'm gonna—oh fuck!" You bounce down hard and heavy on his cock as you cum, grip like a vice around him. He laughs underneath you, a sound of pure joy. "Shit, that's fucking insane," he pants.

You nearly slump forward on him but he pushes you back instead, guiding you to lay down. He pulls out slow as you whimper, using your wetness to pump himself hard and fast. "Where'd you want me, pretty?"

Looking up at him with doe eyes you draw circles on your tummy with your fingertip. "Here, Eds, cum for me right here please?"

His eyes screw shut. "Ah-shit." It feels warm and wet on your stomach. You press a fingertip into the hot spurts, bring it to your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut and Eddie groans.

"You're full of surprises, y'know that." He collapses beside you, pulling you in close. "Beautiful, beautiful girl."

"Can I? Be your girl?" you ask, fingertips dancing up his arm.

"Course you can." He whispers into the shell of your ear "My wicked, shy girl."

Sorry that was LONGGGG but I hope u enjoy.

[eris-snow]

4. 𝐀 𝐂𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐲.

Tags:bakugou x fem!reader, juxtaposition, angst, fluff, swearing, more swearing (It's Katsuki what do you expect)

Living life like this is like watching a scene unfold from a background character’s eyes. You’re just seeing things happen from the sidelines, and no matter how hard you try, you’re helplessly held in place.

Katsuki has learnt which lines he can step over and which lines he should not when he’s with you. Some of them are blurry, but as long as he stays as far away from the cliff as possible, he won’t fall off the edge. When you don’t want to talk about something, you grow silent and ignore him completely.

He’s learned not to press for details.

He’s mostly hanging there for one or two hours while finishing assignments. Between homework and internships, it’s a miracle that he squeezes you into his schedule.

But he does, and he finds it the best decision of his life.

—

“Bakugou, can you help me with this question?”

“Tch, what's so hard about trigo? Just insert the damn formula, idiot.”

“Get off your high horse.”

“Get a better brain.”

“Fine, I’ll do it myself.”

“I don’t trust ya. Give me the pen.”

—

“Fuck!”

“Bad day?”

“I will punch your piano to dust and ash, and once there aren’t any more visible chunks, I will find someone to revert it to its original state and do it again.”

“Code red. Take a seat.”

__

“They moved Speech Day.”

“I don’t care.”

“Aren’t you in it?”

“It’s just two fucking weeks. You try doing paperwork and a literature essay and caring about unimportant shit simultaneously.”

“Okay, Mr I Saved The World, sorry if that was news to me.”

“Shut it, blabbermouth.”

—

“So you just laid in bed? The entire damn day?”

“I’ll have you know that I did homework and watered my desk plant. I’ve been plenty efficient.”

“Your plant?”

“Excuse you, it’s a very nice cactus.”

“We’re talking schedules, Green thumbs. What the hell? I barely have time to sleep, let alone water plants.”

“Maybe I should get you a plant.”

“That has literally nothing to do with this conversation.”

“Mine’s named Fluffy.”

“Oh, come on—”

—

“You’re kind of cool, you know.”

“I do know.”

“Like, you pulled a Harry Potter on the battlefield. Did you see Dumbledore?”

“Are you making light of my death?”

“No, I’m trying to get your mind off it ‘cause you’re being emo again.”

“I’m what?”

“And you’re back.”

—

“Bakugou, Fluffy died.”

“The cactus?”

“Yeah. I’m kinda sad actually.”

“I ain’t comforting you.”

“Well, damn, okay.”

“If it bothers you that much, I’ll buy you another stupid cactus. Will that appease you?”

“Fluffy 2.0?”

“What is with you and naming things—”

“Fluffy 2.0?”

“Yes, jeez! Put the pen down, you look ridiculous.”

“I will fight you.”

—

“You’re a glitch, you know?” Bakugou grouched, throwing his bag onto the stage. The blond has known you for about a month, and he’s managed to pick out a good handful of reactions from you. That’s why, even as you retort, “You’re unpleasant. Did you know that?” as you unplug the earbuds from your ears, he also notices you chew your lip and averts your eyes away from him.

Touchy subject.

“You said you were from Mind Fuck’s old class, right? He didn’t know jack shit about you. You’re practically invisible, but your name is somehow captured when they had to take class photos last year. I just find it strange that you’re there but not fuckin’ there at the same time.”

“I thought we agreed for you to drop this.”

“I thought we agreed not to lie to each other.”

That line seems to make you falter. Whatever the situation, you always seem so against lying straight to someone’s face. Deluding someone, however, didn’t seem to be a problem.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. You don’t see me pushing to know your sob backstory with Midoriya.”

Katsuki reels back so fast that he almost knocks down a stack of neatly arranged certificates on the desk. When he opens his mouth to reply, the words taste like bile on his tongue. “We’re not talking about that.”

You raise your eyebrow as if to say ‘See what I mean?’.

He wants to press for information because every time he gets close you go tight-lipped, but after getting a good look at you he hesitates. You have dark eyebags under your eyes, more prominent than usual, and the way you carry yourself screams how much you don’t want to be here.

It’s almost like your arms are weighed down by chains, and you’re fighting to keep awake.

Katsuki’s been there before. Katsuki knows that place like it was his old friend. He gets it, and that’s the only reason why he stops pushing you..

“You need to go soon,” You said, fixing the stack of credentials and realining the trophies. “Aren’t you one of the awardees? They’re having a briefing downstairs in 5. It’s not very hero-like to be late.”

“Left my pen here, dumbass,” Katsuki rolled his eyes, swiping it off the piano. “And you should leave too. Don’t think the teacher would appreciate stragglers lurking in the curtains like dust bunnies under a bed.”

“I’m part of the backstage crew,” you reply with an eyebrow raised. “Unlike you, I’m supposed to be here.”

You are?

It takes Katsuki to realise he’d said those words out loud, because, of course he did.

You huff, gaze cutting into his eyes. A wave of familiarity washes over him. He swore he’s never lived through this experience before, but it feels all too similar to…

“I don’t tell you everything going on in my life, Bakugou. Easy things flow out like water, and difficult things get stuck like glue. The daily stuff goes in between. It gets sticky along the way, so it never makes it out of my mouth.”

Huh. For some reason, he feels like he’s heard that somewhere before.

—

The teacher glances over you like you’re transparent, and it takes 3 tries to get her attention and 5 to hold onto it.

You watch as the students fly across the stage, each person with a different award. There’re familiar faces.

Studious Yaoyorozu had won Top In Academic Standing(to no one’s surprise), and Izuku had gotten an award for Longest Internship Hours, first runner-up of the Sports Festival, top in Rescue Training and Hero History.

Todoroki had tumbled into third place for the Sports Festival, and was happy to take home the trophy for Best Intern (Voted by their respective heroes-in-charge.)

Half of the hero course had said it was rigged, but Todoroki couldn’t care less and the blatant smugness in his smile said all of it.

You went down the list, taking less than 5 seconds to find the name you were looking for. Katsuki’s prizes were nothing to scoff at either.

Peeking out from behind the curtain, you were just in time to see the ash-blond step onto the stage confidently as the speaker stated his shiny, impressive achievements.

“….Katsuki Bakugou who is the Sports Festival Champion, Top in Combat and Top In Level!”

You watch Principal Nezu hand him all his trophies and certificates, and the way he smirks at the camera, relishing the spotlight on him. You can see the sheer joy on his face.

He deserves it, he really does. You know how hard he works, he’s told you and you’ve seen it.

Jealousy burns the back of your throat, thorns of ‘I wish’ suffocating your trachea.

Damn, I wish that was me.

You slam a hand against your mouth, but almost as quickly as you did, you ease it off. It’s still an instinct, even though you’re sure no one would hear you.

You watch Katsuki turn in your direction as he walks off the stage, which makes you recede into the darkness.

Coward.

Drape yourself in layers of shadows, hide yourself away because you can’t really remember the last time you’ve ever been under those searing lights.

How nice it must feel, to be seen and recognised.

[evilminji]

Back at it again? With more BNHA? My goodness!

See, in one my WIP, which haunts me like a cursed Victorian doll in the night, chanting to me my sins from beneath the floorboards, I got a few OCs. As ya do. Gotta flesh out that world building. And I am ALWAYS a ho for some sweet, sweet SI-OC action!

Because the stranger in a strange land, can see what SHOULD be mundane and familiar anew! There are Moral Quandries! You get to put your sticky lil gremlin fingers ALL over the set dressing and look inside those boxes they put in the background of the scenes! What's IN there? Secrets? We bet it's SECRETS.

Tis the BEST, really. I enjoy it.

But of course! If it's BNHA then we must assign Randomly Gifted Genetic Fuckry(tm) : The Super Powers Edition. Where in? My love of "immediately obvious powers are for cowards. There are no such things as weak powers, only weak and uncreative minds" comes into plaaaay~

I! Want! WEIRD QUIRKS!

Supposedly "minor" ones! That everyone says "oh that's a minor power. Sucks for you" and expects you to just leave it at that! Give up. Like you're some sort of fuckin CASUAL.

HA!

Nah, we pushing this fucker until REALITY breaks. You are gonna be legitimately asking "how the FUCK did you do that!?" And the answer is Will Power, Spite, and "Cause Fuck You, I'm Awesome".

Which of course, is how we got Kimiko. The most high femme, kawaii, little pastel pink bundle of Rage and Bloodlust the Heroics world has ever seen. She is that stage of little girl where they like to wear tiaras, princess dresses, and want to MURDER EVERYTHING. But never grew out of it.

She grew IN to it.

Got a lot of rage, that one. Probably because everyone is all "ooooh, kimi! Your Quirk is so CUTE! You'll be such a good housewife! Such a good sweets maker! Aren't you so CUTE! Let's all infantalize Kimi!" *murder intensifies*

She can turn part of what she is touching into Marshmallow.

*slaps a hand on your shoulder* There are NO restrictions on that~☆! ANYTHING she touchs. Is she touch you? Air? The ground? This building we are standing in? Wanna keep talkin shit? How do you feel about Marshmallow lungs? Enough training and eventually she can take out a building!

Cause Marshmallow? Not a very strong support. Ground under your high rise better be sturdy if you want it to hold, you know? Things to think about. Other things, are the "part of" aspect. Which she is slowly getting better at. Wanna see a trick? *a Marshmallow plops down on the table on the far side of the room* Still air! Still touching~.

Hope your technology is AIR TIGHT and not IN the air. Or moving through it at any concerning speeds. Like, say, a car. Fun thought! Don't fuck with her again! Kimi out! *removes threatening hand of possible Marshmallow Murder*

She's besties with the SI. Himiko. They are the Koko's and WILL be going to UA specifficaly because Kimi was told she couldn't make it. Himi wants nothing to do with this bullshit but is being dragged along like a cat in a harness.

She has my favorite super power. Egg.

Just... Egg.

Egg? Yes. She can summon eggs. Into the spoon. Like those challenge races. Except there is no race, its just her in her pjs trying to eat her damn breakfast. But SUPRISE! Raw egg. Full on, chicken egg in a shell, in your spoon. Perfectly balanced.

And in this iteration, it does have to be in a "spoon" or spoon-like shape. Defined as a bowl with a handle. The egg will fit the spoon. And? Most importantly! Not restricted to chicken eggs!!!

Tiny spoon? Tiny egg. Large spoon? Large egg.

Theoretically? Stadium sized spoon? Stadium sized egg of unknown species never to be seen on planet earth. Because YES. Those thought popping into your head. "Ha ha, what about a dodo eg-" Yeah, see, not ass funny when you actually DO that as a sleep deprived toddler because you HAVE TO KNOW. And now conservationists are hunting you for sport.

Do you have? ANY idea the lengths certain folks would go too to save endangered bird or frog species? If it comes out of an egg. Yes. She CAN make it. No risk of inbreeding for the already critically small populations. Just viable, healthy eggs. Ready to be incubated.

Took her an afternoon.

Needless to say... things get Exciting(tm). People need to be threatened. Himi gets lifelong job security at age four. Neat.

But!!! Not why I started writing! I had a THIRD OC child! Who never made it to the limelight! Gasp! I know! The secret comes out! I scrapped him in favor of Kimi. But his power was one I enjoy Pondering about!

Unlock. You can unlock doors. All doors.

No, you can't "unlock" the bonds between atoms or something. It has to be a Door. But! Begs the question, don't it? Would you... would you have "door sensing"? If there was a perfectly blended in or painted over door? Would you be able to say "it's right there"?

What happens if you use your ability on a tree? Doors are often made of wood. Would there be any effect? Even if no "opening" happened? Could you open metaphorical doors? If someone PAINTED a door, could you open a wall? If so, how deep? If we painted a cliff face, could you open a door to the other side of the mountain?

How far does you door opening power stretch?!

I understand you Izuku! I too, want to study these cool Quirks! See how far they can develop! No more strength quirks! More minor quirks with unusual applications! Woooo!

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Do you think breaking dawn went off the rails or was Vampire Baby the logical next step for the series? If not, what do you think the logical next step would have been?

This really isn't a question you should ask this blog for a few reasons:

I greatly differ in opinion than most Twilight fans and probably won't give you the answer you want on any topic

This blog isn't about Meyer or what people wanted from the series. It's about the series as is and trying to make the jigsaw puzzle fit together without relying on outside knowledge.

But I guess i can give it a go.

Did the Series Go Off the Rails?

Depends who you ask/what the point was supposed to be. For a YA series, it was a slap in the face, but it was after a series of several slaps in the face.

Twilight was the normal-ish, starting book, you had your romantic lead, your main character teenage girls can project on, you had people hating on it but at the time they hated on the way they hate on things like Barbie: because it was too girly.

"Real Men Vampires Don't Sparkle!"

(Yes, there were other people hating on it for much more legitimate reasons, but that was the big one you heard from people who didn't know anything about the books.

It's the one you still hear, actually.)

Then you get New Moon, which by all accounts, was a suicide novel on Meyer's part. The male lead dumps the main character, we don't see him for the vast majority of the book, the main character slinks into an insane depression that she never recovers from until the end of the book, and we're introduced to an entirely new cast of characters, a new supernatural thing, when all Bella as a character wants is for the Cullens to come back.

Now, they marketed it well, it became a love triangle. NOW JACOB IS AN OPTION! But if you look at what Meyer wrote, Jacob was clearly never an option even in New Moon. Bella dumps him the second she has a hint that Edward may have returned (Carlisle's car in front of her house). Even in Eclipse, Bella never really debates her choice, is just sad as she realizes she loves Jacob too but not enough to give up Edward and stay human.

It was a novel that I'm sure had her publishers asking, "What the fuck, Stephanie? Where's Edward? WHERE'S EDWARD?!"

Eclipse gets us back on track a little bit. We now have our male lead back, our female lead is dating him again, they have renewed conflict in the form of the secondary male lead and the love triangle and this new-born army thing in the background no one actually cares that much about. It's still a weird book, but it's relatively normal.

Then we get book four, Rosemary's baby, and the publishers died. Just died. Teenage girls don't want to read Rosemary's Baby. They don't even know how to market this anymore, it's not even a fucking trilogy like normal book series, they just say "It's a Saga! PLEASE BUY!" and promote nothing about its actual content.

My point is, though, the series was always off the rails. Twilight alone has insane shit in it, easily overlooked especially when you're thirteen, but it's fucking insane.

New Moon though was certainly something an ordinary series would never have done.

To say it went off the rails at Breaking Dawn is like thinking there were rails to begin with and not just Stephanie riding a missile waving a cowboy hat, "YEEEEHAAAAAAAAAW"

What Was the Next Logical Step?

Eclipse would have ended with Bella and Edward's wedding, Jacob shows up to offer his farewells and it's bittersweet, we never see Bella become a vampire. Just her hope for the future and knowing she's finally a Cullen.

That's how a normal series would have ended.

However, a normal series never would have gotten us to that point, would it?

[averagewriter777]

Ghost and Doc (Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader)

Masterlist

Part Twenty-Three

Popular opinion: Simon and Ghost are two different personalities.

Meanwhile…

“Punching a tree for wood is so fucking dumb.” Gaz muttered under his breath, repeatedly hitting the right trigger instead of holding it. (Though Ghost had told him several times holding it would be easier and probably better in the long run)

Alejandro laughed. “Hundred percent agree with you, hermano. Maybe you should make an ax?” He was down in the minds, suffering himself without any light and fighting off mobs with a wooden sword. “And some torches while you’re at it, por favor.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Gaz dropped his head with a sigh, then turned around to the couch. He and Alejandro were on the floor so Ghost could lie down. “You sure you don’t want to play, LT? It’s actually fun, with survival skills too.”

Ghost turned his head, opening one eye to look at the screen. “No. You two have fun playing a children’s game.” Alejandro and Gaz then started to argue that it was rated ‘E’ which meant for everyone, but Ghost tuned it out as his phone started to ring in his pocket. “I’ll be outside taking a call, don’t kill each other.”

The caller ID read ‘Johnny’ and once he missed the call- not on purpose mind you, it just started ringing again. When Ghost picked up, he growled into the phone: “Better be a fucking emergency if you’re calling back to back like that.”

“You could call it that? It’s not an emergency like I need you guys… the people are here, talking to Doc, right?” Ghost hummed, confirming he was listening. “I’m not allowed to be in there, for legal reasons. But I looked through the window, just to see if everything was going okay- she’s fucking crying. Like, has her head in her hands and is shaking, crying.”

Ghost felt something in his stomach twist when hearing that, but pushed it down and ignored it. “I don’t assume you can hear anything through the door, can you?”

“Negative. But before they arrived, Doc told me that the doctor’s said Kennedy has a possibility of not waking up. The woman’s heart is breaking, Simon. I don’t know what we’re supposed to do here.” He did, but he’d be damned if he was going to tell Ghost. Let the man figure it out himself, draw it out.

Fuck. Ghost put a hand on his chin, thinking this out very carefully. Part of him was saying not to be open, just say “she’ll be okay” but that voice wouldn’t win this one. Ghost wouldn’t win this one, nope… Simon would. “We will be there for her. Every step of the way. She’s part of the team, one of us. She’d do the same for us… under circumstances.”

There was a long pause on Soap’s end, and Ghost had a feeling the man was either thinking or grinning from ear to ear. “Right then. We’ll be back once she’s done. I’ll keep you updated too, if you’d like, through text.” 

“Please.”

“Right then. See ya later, LT.” Then the phone call ended.

-

The tears were running freely. Thankfully you were offered some tissues by this legal team, Andy and Carrie. They were… sympathetic to the situation and gave the information in little pieces because of how quickly you broke down.

“With you deploying so much, and at the moment living in Europe for a… an assignment you said? Kennedy, if she wakes up, would be put in a foster home so this wouldn’t happen again.” Andy was repeating what he’d told Shawn days before, just in a lighter manner. He and Carrie had been much more stern and rude to him about this. “And there will be a trial for both Kiara and Shawn because this is child endangerment… and if she doesn’t wake up, this could turn to a homicide case.”

You blew your nose into the tissue again, tossing it into the trashcan afterward. “I-Instead of a foster home… I-I have neighbors who would be willing to t-take care of her, if she w-would wake up?” You really hoped this would work. Losing your only child to foster because of someone else’s mistakes? Absolutely not.

Carrie clicked her pen a few times, thinking carefully. “We’d need to run a background check on them, meet them… before going through with this.” You nodded, mumbling several ‘please’s’ under your breath. “Right. Just write down their contact information and we’ll do that for you, okay?” She gave you a clipboard and the pen. “We just wanted to let you know we’re very sorry this took place while you were gone.”

You nodded shakily. “Thanks.” You took your phone out and started writing down the contact information and address. “They’re good people… I hope this works.”

“Us too…” Carrie and Andy said together.

You exited the room after the little meeting was over, still wiping tears from your face. You’d kissed the top of Kennedy’s head before leaving, muttering: “I love you, so much”. It hurt that she couldn’t repeat the endearing phrase back.

When you exited, Soap was standing at the door with crossed arms, glaring at Shawn and Kiara- both who seemed to be waiting to enter. Kiara stood behind Shawn, gripping his arm and hiding from the glare Soap was sending. When you stood next to him, however, the Scottish man slightly relaxed and asked if everything was okay.

“One second.” You walked over to Shawn, clenched your fist, and swung your fist directly at his nose- ignoring the crack and cry you heard coming from him. “I hope you go to jail for this.” Then motioned for Soap to follow you out of the hospital.

Taglist: @redpool, @calicokitkat, @abbiesxox, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @tescomealdeals-blog, @judachoo, @cabreezer0117, @reiya-djarin, @cutiecusp, @m0chac0ffee, @cassie-vizsla, @seasaltt99, @lazy-kari202, @comedinewithmeyeah, @somnibats, @badpvn, @peachy-is-obsessed, @bookoffracturedghosts, @dorck26, @adeptusnunya, @wonusbitch, @m00vp, @user1727381919

[nectar-cellar]

what was your inspiration to create your main oc?

thank you for sending me this ask @drawing-way-outside-the-lines @tau1tvec 💞💞

i wrote a really long response below i won’t blame you if you can’t read the whole thing lmfao 😭 but i had fun thinking about my ocs and writing it!

i made amir way back in april 2020 (3 years ago!!!!). his appearance was at first loosely based on some attractive guy i saw on instagram, then i kept tweaking and refining his features based on a handful of other face claims until he took on a more unique look of his own. i always wanted to keep the strong straight brows, deep-set tired eyes, and sharp pointy nose, those are his defining features to me.

personality-wise, at first i did not have one in mind for him. i just thought he should be a serious, intense kind of guy, to match his appearance. he reminded me of some of the male protagonists in YA novels i read, so that was what i associated him with: a guy who would have to go on a journey of some sort.

the more pics i took of him, the more he kind of reminded me of someone i knew, and i thought some aspects of that person’s personality would really fit this character. actually, a handful of people i’ve known/met. so there’s definitely a real-life influence there. a lot of my ocs have borrowed character traits from people i know/knew irl - is that weird? i feel like it’s the easiest to imagine an oc with certain traits/behaviours when i can draw from real observations, feelings, relationships etc. it makes them more “real” and personal to me.

i wanted a character who would struggle with himself, who was flawed, but who would still strive to do the right thing as best as he could. he had to be a good person, at heart.

i also thought it’d be interesting to see how a masculine character from a strict and traditionalist background would struggle with accepting his own queer identity, and with dating another person who was visibly queer in a small town where they’d both stick out like sore thumbs. 

which brings me to dani (she/they), birth name daniel. at first, when i made dani, i just had the idea to create a sad, lonely and dejected young person who lived in sunset valley, who hated the seemingly idyllic and sunny suburban town, who wanted more than anything to leave and never look back. i can definitely imagine sunset valley to be a strongly conservative, traditional white-picket-fence kind of neighbourhood and i felt like it could be the kind of oppressive place a queer and closeted person would hate. that was where i got the idea that dani was a trans person who could not be out (yet) for the sake of their own safety and survival (in their story, not in these studio pics). the shortening of the name is one small way she tries to take back some sort of control over her self-expression and identity. i think dani’s background is a pretty familiar story for a lot of queer people and it was inspired by a lot of coming out stories i’ve read. as for dani’s face claim, i’ve tweaked their face so many times that i can’t even remember if i had one to begin with...

i thought that amir and dani would actually make an interesting couple because they have a lot in common: they’re both introverts, outsiders to sunset valley, in the middle of their journey of self-discovery, lonely, and 2 hopeless romantics yearning to be seen and accepted and loved.

so yeah that was my inspiration behind creating them and making them a couple. this idea of two people who find each other by chance and they just get each other and they can hardly believe it and they think they’re meant to be forever.

[catholicdogxxx]

every single thought i had abt one piece live action

alvida is so hot im praying when she comes back she’ll have the slip slip fruit and still be fat please god.

introducing zoro with baroque works instead of with helmeppo was fucking genius, and mr 7’s redesign is pique. and the gore of zoro killing mr 7? sets a great fucking precedence.

binks brew playing in the background of the flash back where luffy eats his fruit >>>>>

i want a copy of nami’s book as merch

i love the little homage to the original of luffy planning to just fly in

having luffy be there for the scene with helmeppo and rika >>>>

ive said it once ill say it a thousand times how do they manage to make zoro even gayer. ill never get over the whimpering caption with helmeppo just crawling on the ground.

nami girlboss girlslaying even

zoro you cryptic little gay freak “then he owes me money” “didnt wanna make a mess”

im mad they didnt make captain morgan tell helmeppo he didnt beat him as a kid is bc he’s too pathetic to hit.

captain “we should be working for the same team” morgan. bro you are an elder fag preying on a young gay man. THE SHOULDER TOUCH???

roronoa “i kinda got my own thing going on” zoro

“7 days? i could catch up on my sleep”

“when i get down from here, you’ll be the one begging.” MY GOD YOU FAG

tag urself im the bead of sweat in zoros eyebrow

“get lost”

“i am.. lost”

“heyhey no. dont do that.”

my god nami’s actress is perfect the body language, tone of voice, its so accurate to how she was pre joining strawhats. and GOD her facial expressions in her first fight scene w luffy…

zoro almost dipping then deciding he wants to fight lmao i love it

“arent you that drunk from the bar?”

“glad i made an impression.”

morgan you didnt capture shit

inaki did a great job making luffy still look animated.

zoro cutting helmeppos hair is so fucking funny

garp knew exactly who it was when he first got that call

buggy youre sitting like SUCH a slut

buggy loves talking abt shanks like he’s an ex boyfriend

i wanna see what else buggy can do

zoro definitely had sex with cabaji and then killed his brother

i could watch yasopp shoot people all day

shanks casting is so well done im obsessed with the fact that none of the characters are the conventionally attractive roblox looking types

also the timing of luffy being drowned and the flashback to shanks saving him… timed perfectly great depiction of ptsd. same thing with zoros flashbacks.

“why gonna rob the place blind?”

“at least a little blurry”

i love the wlw mlm solidarity with nami and zoro, oh my god the scene of them getting dressed and nami picking out a shirt for him??? obsessed.

zoros pink ass drink

FUNKY BAR MIRROR BALL???

“arlonggg babyyyy”

“you dont think she like. like likes me do you?”

i love the way the meowmin twins move when theyre fighting in the stairwell

luffy grinning like a freak through kuros blades :333 and then the fucking thumbs up

luffys look to nami when kaya says they have a ship

damn they really just fucking murked merry

“they do know im the captain right?”

“let them have this one”

“we are” playing while they leave syrup village im obsessed

nami laughing for probably the first time in years at usopp and luffy fighting over who’s the captain

i could write an essay about the fear in garps eyes in that flashback (im going to)

“which way is port?”

“the left!”

“neverrrrrrr!”

“fine ya brat have it yer wae”

garp laughing bc he’s actually invested in his job again

the camera lense while luffy is smelling the baratie is fucking hilarious

“add food to the equation and suddenly he knows how to navigate”

ive said it once i’ll say it a thousand times inaki does a great fucking job making luffy still look animated

ill never get over sanji’s accent its so fucking fan indulgent

the little angry kick after he puts em on the fucking ground

“welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambiance is the food. my name is sanji what can i get for you?”

“any drinks one of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?”

“apologies madam didnt see you there. would you care for an apéritif to start?”

sanji is such a freak oh my god i love him

zoro pointing it out is so fan indulgent

zoro grinning like an idiot when nami says “i need a drink”

im obsessed with usopps fishbowl

sanji’s smile talking about the all blue WAHHHH

i love live action sanji cooking

his fucking theme playing oh my god

zoro and nami comparing usopp to a sea slug

“i had friends”

“swords dont count”

“i had one friend”

“hell one more than i have”

zoro you fucking freak

why is he standing like that fucking fag

“because youre my friend you idiot” NAMI WAHHHHHHHH

zeff is so hot omfg

sanji’s desperate baby scream breaks my heart

i really like they went using with the original manga plotline for sanji’s backstory

“id eat both arms and legs to save zoros life”

putting buggy in the bag is so fucking funny

that zoom in on sanji yelling “zeff” what was that

god i love sanji and zeffs fight

zoro waking up scene is fucking adorable

zoro you fucking devoted freak i love you

ill never get over sanji’s theme

“the only thing i wanna hear from you is dinner specials”

baby nami is perfectly cast

BLACK NOJIKO BLACK NOJIKO

buggys body pinned up at arlongs base lmfao

“arlong has bled us dry”

“then find more blood”

i love helmeppo sitting like that lmao

bellemere’s death scene always makes me tear up jesus christ

“i thought itd take a lot more liquor to bring out your mutinous side.”

why was arlongs speech edited like that oh my god

“of course i will” makes me tear up every fucking time

nami drawing her maps in fucking blood is such great symbolism

“you look tired, maybe you should take a break”

“maybe you ought to get back in the kitchen”

“quit screwing around! luffy needs us!”

“you just got here you dont know what luffy needs.”

“i know he needs my cooking.”

“putting two slices of bread together?”

telling buggy to shut up in unison lmao

“im gonna get outta here.” while flipping them off

“fucking clown.”

USOPP EXPLODING STAR U GOAT

“i get it zeff was mean to you boohoo”

“you dont ever badmouth nami.”

“now youve done it.”

god i love taz skylar

“all great fighters call out there finishing moves”

“yeah youre gonna fit in just fine.”

SANJI WANTING TO HUG NAMI AND HER RUNNING PAST LMFAO

“back for seconds must have liked it.”

“at least i dont need 3 swords to prove im a man.”

garp jus beating the shit out of luffy

nami hitting nezumi >>>>>

god i fucking love nami talking at bellemeres grave

“i know what it means to fight for your family.”

luffy’s reaction to his bounty im in love

koby what was that gay ass look you want to kiss luffy so bad dont you

“be a good marine.”

“be a good pirate.”

luffy mimicking his poster

god i love makino

kaya with a different tea looking healthy 😭

luffy’s bounty up under employee of the month

BUGGY AND ALVIDA BUGGY AND ALVIDA BUGGY AND ALVIDA

god i love garp

helmeppo learning to be swordsman :33

“maybe the old chef was right. it id your turn.”

“i can still take you.” not in a fight…

their jolly roger 🥺🥺🥺

[thelastspeecher]

Once again idk what title to use but here's another Pollution Powers AU thing! Enjoy some quality Angie and Ford friendship time!

———————————————————————————————————–

                 Ford followed the sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata to the third-floor common room, where the fine grand piano was kept.  There was an additional grand piano at the school, but that one was located in the music room, which was locked up outside of class hours.

                 Interesting, isn’t it, how they claim the students are so trustworthy that the bedrooms don’t need keys, but the second the music room with all its valuable instruments doesn’t have an adult in it, it’s locked up like Fort Knox.  Ford reached the third floor.  Like on the second floor, the landing opened into the large common room.  Ford’s eyes widened.  The person sitting at the piano was a short girl with a blonde ponytail.  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised she can play the piano.  Fiddleford often plays the accompaniment during music class.  Fiddleford’s younger sister, Angie, seemed lost in the melody.  Her eyes were glued to the sheet music in front of her, her hands following muscle memory to the correct keys.  There was a sour note.  Angie abruptly stopped playing.

                 “Damn,” she hissed.  Ford’s jaw dropped.  Not at the incorrect note, but at what had caused it.  When she reached her fingers out, they stretched past the keys she intended.  Beyond what should be possible for her to reach.  Angie lifted her hands, frowning at her roughly eight-inch-long fingers.  She shook her hands like she was trying to get rid of a cramp.  Her fingers retracted back to their normal length.  She clenched her hands into fists experimentally a few times and sighed.  “I know yer there.  Don’t just stand ‘round gapin’ like a carp at me.”

                 “How did you know I was here?”

                 “I saw ya out of the corner of my eye when my fingers…”  Angie cleared her throat.  “Well.  You saw.”

                 “Yes.  I did.”  Ford walked over to Angie.  “That’s your contamination?”

                 “Yes.”  Angie rested her hands in her lap.  She avoided eye contact with Ford.  “I stretch.  I can also get bigger ‘n smaller, but that ain’t what my coach is focused on.”  Ford nodded.  Each student at the school was assigned a “coach”, an adult who would guide them through how to manage their abilities.  Despite the fact none of the coaches themselves had abilities, their scientific backgrounds, typically in physiology, resulted in very effective lessons.  “That’s actually why I’m playin’.  My coach wants me to practice a musical instrument to work on my control, since ya have to stretch yer fingers to play the instruments I know.”  Angie sighed.  “But I left m’ fiddle back in Arkansas, so until she arrives here, I’m stuck with the piano.”  She glared at the aforementioned instrument.  “Not like it’s doin’ me any good.  Stretchin’ ‘n whatnot only seem to happen on accident.”  Voices carried from the staircase.  Ford and Angie looked over.  Stan and Jimmy walked up from the second floor.  Jimmy smirked at Angie.

                 “Hey, normie,” he sneered.  Stan snickered softly.  The two continued up to the fourth floor.  Ford turned back to Angie.

                 “That was remarkably mild for them,” he said.  Angie looked away.

                 “There weren’t a big enough audience fer ‘em to make a whole to-do,” she mumbled.  “After all, why put on a show if there ain’t no one to watch it?”

                 “Speaking of putting on a show, why haven’t you used your ability, say, in class or in the cafeteria during lunch?” Ford asked.  “If nothing else, it might help take some heat off you.”  Angie whipped her head around to glare at him.

                 “Weren’t ya listenin’?  I can’t do any of it on command!” she snapped.  “That’s why I’m here!”  Ford took a slight step back, surprised by the venom in Angie’s voice and the fire in her mismatched eyes.  While her eyes were far from the oddest at the school – some students’ whites of their eyes were no longer white – Ford had found Angie’s the most unnerving.  One iris was, according to Fiddleford, her original eye color: a soft, gentle blue.  The other looked like a silver mirror, metallic and reflective.  Adding to Ford’s general unease over her eyes was that they were inconsistent – which eye was blue and which was silver varied from day to day.  That day, her left eye was blue, though the look in it was just as steely as in her silver eye.

                 Now I understand why Fiddleford calls her a “firecracker”.  Angie had been demure and soft-spoken since her arrival at the school, contrasting with the playful nickname her brother used for her.  Angie let out an impatient humph. 

                 “Even if I could show off to everyone, it wouldn’t work,” she said bitterly.  “If I make it so’s they can’t mess with me fer one thing, they’ll just find another.”  She waved her hand at Ford vaguely.  “You should understand that, Stanford.”  Ford bristled.

                 “What is that supposed to mean?”

                 “Oh, please.  I can tell you’ve always been an odd one,” Angie said.  “Fidds says you were born with yer polydactyly.  I’d imagine that weren’t somethin’ folks would’ve ignored.”  Angie sighed.  “Most people are good at heart.  But the folks what aren’t are a lot louder.”

                 “You…”  Ford adjusted his glasses.  “You are quite perceptive, Angie.”  Angie managed a small smile.

                 “It all comes down to connectin’ data points.  I’m smarter ‘n I look.”  Her smile broadened.  “Ain’t ya wondered who knocked ya down from the top spot in class?”

                 “That was you?!”

                 “Yup.  It’s nice to do well in school fer once.”  Angie scowled at the sheet music she had been reading.  “I never been good at school ‘fore.”

                 “Why?”

                 “Beats me.  But I guess there’s somethin’ ‘bout the way the teachers here work with me.”

                 “Stan is also doing better in class here than he did back home.”  Ford leaned against the piano.  “Perhaps some people need additional assistance to reach their full potential in schoolwork.”  Angie nodded silently.  She idly shuffled through a pile of sheet music sitting on the bench next to her.

                 “By the by, yer brother…”  She sighed.  “Yer a nice enough feller, so how come yer twin’s…”  She trailed off.

                 “An asshole?” Ford suggested.  Angie winced but nodded.  “Stan’s power manifested months before mine did.  The time we spent apart was enough for him to fall in with a bad crowd.”  Ford furrowed his brow.  “He’s always been rather uncouth and rude, but never a bully.  In fact, he protected me from bullies back home.”

                 “You must’ve been a good influence on him.”

                 “Or Jimmy was just a bad influence.”

                 “Both could be true.”  Angie shook her head as she pulled out a new piece from her stack of sheet music and placed it on the piano.  “I’ve got a twin brother m’self, y’know.  I’d hate fer him to become someone I don’t recognize just ‘cause we’re separated.”

                 “You have a twin?”

                 “Yessir.”

                 “And he’s uncontaminated?” Ford asked.  Angie nodded.  Ford frowned.  “That’s odd.”

                 “Well, we’re fraternal twins.”

                 “Was he not with you when you were exposed?”

                 “Ah.”  Angie smiled sheepishly.  “That’s the rub right there.  I never had an exposure.”  Ford’s jaw dropped.

                 “You- you inherited your contamination?” he asked, astounded.  Blushing, Angie nodded.  “That’s- I think you might be the only student here without an exposure!”

                 “That explains why the folks runnin’ this place were so excited ‘bout me showin’ up,” Angie mumbled.  She shrugged.  “My great-grandfather got stretchin’ ‘n size changin’ from exposure to an herbicide what got taken off the market months later due to toxicity concerns.”

                 “Fascinating,” Ford breathed.  Angie shrugged again.  She placed her hands on the piano’s keys, then hesitated.

                 “Say…”  She looked at Ford with a twinkle in her eye.  It was the same look Fiddleford got when he roped Ford into helping him build dangerous robots.  “Want me to teach ya?”

                 “Uh, teach me what?”

                 “Piano!”  Angie played a rapid multi-octave scale to demonstrate.

                 “Um…”  Ford held up his six-fingered hands.  “Traditional piano instruction might be difficult.”

                 “I could figure somethin’ out.  I like a good challenge and I been playin’ since I was four.”

                 “Still, I think I’d rather listen than play.”

                 “Fine,” Angie said, rolling her eyes.  She dropped her stack of sheet music onto the floor and patted the now empty part of the bench next to her.  “But if yer goin’ to listen, yer on the hook fer turnin’ the pages so’s there ain’t a break in the flow.”  Ford chuckled.  He joined her on the bench.

                 “You drive a hard bargain, but I’ll do as you ask.”

                 “Good.”  Angie’s hands hovered above the keys.  “And, uh, try not to get freaked out if m’ fingers do the thing.”

                 “Don’t worry, I have plenty of experience with abnormal fingers.”

[savagebisand]

The girls are fighting but who brawled first and Who Makes Mew 180 Next Ep? From disgust and disbelief at Rays accusations to Confronting Top...

Seen a couple theories posited that the SandRay fight is actually before the RayMew fight and at first I was like there is no way buuttt now I'm thinking about it more I can see a scenario playing out

Imagine Ray is riled up by that point and hellbent on telling Mew what he discussed with Boston earlier, they argue about Rays choice to tell Mew what he knows about Top and Ton because Sand just seems the person to go that's only gonna make it worse, Ray is refusing to listen and Sand snaps with "can't you focus on me instead" and Ray who is now Decidedly Pissed Treble because Sand is not listening and agreeing, everyone is lying to his best friend and wants him to play along aNd Sand wants to ask him to pick right now to focus on their issues instead. This is quite frankly far too much for Rays smooth pretty rich brain to problem solve at once. He tells Sand he has no business in it and what even are they to each other anyway and when Sand can't really answer the question bc isn't that Rays choice, enough is enough. Sand is in his way and he's on a mission, so an already desperate and exhausted Ray shoves Sand aside. Literally. Goes in all guns blazing to tell Mew a truth he thinks Mew deserves because how can this possibly go wrong? Ray is being good. He is looking after the person he said he would save back.

Mew, on the other hand, does not want and is not ready for this truth especially not from a rowdy Ray who has always had an issue with Top and kissed him just last week anyway. This is jealousy talking right? What else should Mew think when Ray just told Mew he hasn't moved on from him in years and still loves him. Oh the tragedy. But oh the glee. Because if this is the case and Sand follows Ray back in to battle because FFS he's infuriating but he cant leave Ray in that state and seemingly picks Ray up from his mortal kombat style finish him blow from Mew (again literally and metaphorically). There is ample room for Sand taking a hurt and shell shocked Ray home and providing that oh so sweet hurt/comfort. Perhaps we will get SandRay patching bruises up together, finally. Perhaps they can finally have that communication they blocked off last ep. That is, ya know, before Ray realises without Mew as a bluff he might actually be allowed to love Sand and that's impossible, time to push Sand away with five times the force.

Sidenote: It is very interesting to observe that Nick is there as well. Now Sand did not shock me after all he's the bar singer and that is the bar, he may not be there for Mew but this is where we find Sand anyway when Ray isn't with him. But Nick? Nick has never entered that bar space before, in a way it hasn't tainted him the way it has all the others. It's another thing he hasn't been exposed to that sets him apart. But suddenly Nick is there in this world with the core four once again seeing different sides of them. Arguably, he has no business being there, he's not friends with them really and Boston has never made a point of showing him off before unless it benefits Ton to do so (e.g. the pool party where Nick was in charge of a specific job). He could be there for Sand which, again, is interesting.

Even more intriguingly, we can see Title's character in the background of the RayMew fight scene. Evidently, this character is significant somehow, enough to be in the opening credits. I'm very much side eyeing what his role is here and now of all moments. I do think there's a strong chance after Nick witnesses RayMews showdown, he takes it upon himself to confirm what Ray claims to Mew. I don't see Mew believing anyone else but someone seemingly inconsequential, with no reason to lie other than Nick. And we do have the TopMew fight in this ep as well so evidently Mew starts believing Rays talk at some point.

The only other possibility I could see right now is feral protective Sand trying to back Ray up, pissed as hell that Rays pretty face looks so beat up and devastated, by throwing an off hand comment out that makes Mew double take and realise Ray is telling the truth because again he approves of Sand, thinks Sand is lovely and doesn't see why he'd lie. Sand knows as much as Nick does so either of them have the potential to be candidates Mew would rather hear the hard truth from.

Then again, sometimes this show blindsides us into thinking there will be more drama than there really is. It's quite possible Mew only starts to believe what Ray claims because one of Tops ex flings crops up and gives mew some sort of vague warning that seems to corroborate things mew had already noticed and ignored and what Ray was accusing Top of. I'd rather it be Nick personally cause I love that crazy gone girl. But I do agree with others who have pointed out Mew and Ton have another confrontation later which is more likely to be about the cheating, in which case it makes sense for Nick to bite his tongue for now esp since Boston is currently where Nick wants and being more "coupley" toward him and if Mew and Top have relationship drama, it may only push Ton toward Top more again.

That does lead me to wonder if Sand being the one to back Ray up in this RayMew showdown and make Mew doubt Top where Ray couldn't is what prompts Nick and Sands fight where Nick claims Sand has embarrassed him and hurt his feelings and Sand argues why should you care, he's an asshole. I could see why Nick would be hurt and annoyed if Sand telling Mew causes issues for Nick and Ton because ya know Boston's in a pissy since Mew is off with him, Tops giving him shit since clearly Boston gave shit away and perhaps Sand even lets something slip like "just ask Nick" which is why HE personally is embarrassed cause now Ton is also onto him. Also Sand stands with the most to gain. It pushes Ray into his arms more to be there for him when everyone else is dismissing him, esp Mew and Sand doesn't like Top in the first place and knows Top has a habit of carelessly fucking other people and putting his feelings first.

But this is only friends, maybe in reality the argument RayMew have isn't even about Top anymore by the end of it, maybe what Ray tells Boston he knows which clearly makes Boston nervous has nothing to do with BostonTop at all. From the small snippets we have we truly have barely any context but these are some scenarios I'd like for the timeline of things.

[wario-speedwagon]

Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid: Chapter 8

Hello, me again here with chapter 8! And with the longest chapter yet no less! Hope you enjoy, and thanks for the support as always! <3

And this time I want to shout out @p13rr0t for their cute little drawing of Pruny that honestly made me laugh! Thank you so much!

Chapter 1 Chapter 7

And without further ado, full chapter beneath the cut!

Chapter 8

Suddenly the momentum slowed to a halt, and Dave awakened. Ah, when did he fall asleep? After some seconds of waking himself up, Dave glanced up out of the front window. Jack was already at the front door of his house, bags and blankets in arm, fishing his pockets for a house key.

He looked beside him and Pruny was also still fast asleep, head leaning against the car door. His heart melted at the sight–that is, the cavity where his heart should have been did. He climbed out of the car to catch up with Jack.

“I see that you’re unfortunately awake now. Welcome back.”

“What, getting sick of me already?”

“Evening naps are always dangerous for kids. Once you wake up from an evening nap, you'll be awake for hours before you go to bed; it’s always a real headache to deal with.”

“C’mon, Prune’s a good kid.”

“Oh, it’s not her I’m worried about.”

“Ha ha. What would you have done if I didn’t wake up, carry me to bed bridal style?” Dave said perhaps a little too hopefully.

“Good point. I probably woulda just let you sleep there in the car for the night.”

“Mm. Well lucky for ya, I’m ready to collapse right back into the sack as soon as possible.”

Dave was tired, but even then he still took note of how Old Sport clearly seemed to speak earlier as if referring to personal experience, which left Dave wondering again about his background. …No, now wasn’t the time or energy to bring up something like that again.

“...Hey, what's all that extra stuff you got in that bag? I see a toothbrush.”

“Yeah, I bought her some other essentials we'd missed, y'know, in case she would have to stay longer…”

“Weren’t you strapped for cash or something? Did ya ‘lift ‘em after all?”

“Well yeah, I sneak stuff out all the time too, how could I not? It's been hard to get by ever since Walmart stopped accepting Faztokens. But I'm–”

“Woah woah, Walmart used to take Faztokens!?” Dave suddenly shouted very alertly to Jack’s regret.

“A couple years back, yeah.”

“Damn…”

Jack resumed unlocking the door open, so Dave went back to the car to carry Pruny inside.

It made Dave think. The way her light body felt in his hands. Just like all the other ones he disposed of. But this time he had to actually be careful not to wake the sleeping kid…

Boy, it’s a real good thing Dave was an expert on cutting off haunting thoughts like that before they can get to him! Besides, Pruny was different!

Dave carefully closed the busted up car door and, Pruny still cradled in his arms, re-approached the front door step to enter the briefly dark living room that Jack promptly lit up with a switch. The two were consciously trying to stay quiet in her presence.

“Shit, I completely forgot about a pillow,” Jack harshly whispered to himself as Dave went over to gently set her down onto the living room couch. Luckily they seemed successful at not stirring her awake as she seamlessly snuggled into its cushions.

The two then shut off the living room lights and left the girl to her peace as they then took the shopping bags to the kitchen table.

“So what else'd you get her then?”

“Oh– just a toothbrush, toothpaste, some hair ties, and a brush (since I don't exactly use one myself). …Oh, and I nicked this as well for her.” He held it up. “Think she'll like it?”

Dave stretched his neck closer and judged the strange little bottle carefully with a discerning eye.

“Hmm…

…

…What is it?”

“...Huh?”

“What is it?”

“You… don’t know?”

“Is it… edible? It’s not much to drink if so…”

“...”

“...”

“...Oh. ...Oh, this is a delightful twist! If you don’t know what this is, then that just means you’re gonna find out directly once we give it to Pruny!”

“I don’t know that I like the vague threatening tone in your voice…” Dave eyed the red bottle with confused intimidation.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, it’s not a very painful process.”

“Not a 'very–’?”

“Anyway, what are your sleeping plans, Aubergine? I don’t exactly have any spare bedding for you.”

“Oh, uhh, maybe just with you–?”

“Vetoed.”

“That was… the only idea I had to be honest…”

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

…

When she came to, the first thing Violet relished in noticing was that she had been the most comfortable she had been in months. Every desire told her to just keep her eyes closed and her mind foggy with sleep, but she had to be sure– sure that yesterday did happen, so she opened her eyes a slit to the mild morning light to confirm this was indeed the orange man’s living room, and that she had been laying flat on his couch–oh, and covered with an incredibly warm, soft navy blue blanket!

And so she faced an internal battle: wanting to get up and satiate her new curiosities while wanting to stay warm and sleepy in her blanket’s heavenly embrace. She continued to sit with this dilemma under closed, tired eyes...

But she finally decided that her curiosity wins out.

Lightly opening her eyes, she saw that grandfather clock that she rather liked. It read 7:47. Violet enjoyed the pendulum’s dedicated repetition back and forth as her gaze meditated on it for a good minute or two.

...Until she noticed something purple on the floor nearby her.

That purple guy–Dave–was sprawled on the floor asleep in a position no more natural than if a Raggedy Andy had been unceremoniously dropped onto the floor. He didn’t even have a blanket or anything… Well, at least the floor was carpeted.

Getting up from her comfort felt like a crime; but Violet was being exposed to a lot of that lately, so emulating her new—

–Her train of thought halted. ...How should she finish that sentence? Calling them her captors might be the most accurate, but she only ever felt “captured” in the first couple hours of meeting them before she started to realize that maybe she had just wildly misinterpreted their intentions at first... that maybe sticking with them might be a better bet than what she’d been doing for the past several months…

But the word she wanted to use for them… it felt too presumptuous.

Well! Enough daydreaming, time to wake up and explore this house while they’re still asleep! So tiptoe-ing around the mangled pile of purple limbs on the floor, she headed first for the kitchen!

...

The dishes from last night were still awaiting washing in the sink and the table was not cleared of crumbs from their grilled cheese last night, but otherwise it was a perfectly fine kitchen. Naturally the first place Violet checked was the fridge to see what kind of snacks Jack usually had, but she didn't expect such disappointment upon opening it.

The full-sized fridge was mostly empty if not populated by some yogurts, cheese slices, a half used stick of foreign butter and a loaf of bread (that had some specks of something green in it...?). And in the door were just some bland looking soda cans…

Well enough of that, where else could she raid? But her attention was immediately redirected to a cute doggo! Or rather, a framed picture of one hung on the wall. She didn't know her dog breeds very well, but she was enamored with its pointy little ears and dark purple fur– er, huh… She could have sworn she saw that it was a dark purple color at first, but it was just a regular blonde color. Weird.

Opening drawer after drawer for interesting things, she only got mildly interesting junk at best like Freddy's trinkets or a popped balloon dog or a taser, but otherwise it was mostly random cigarette packs, loose change, pens, Faztokens… Violet very quickly decided to head to a new, hopefully more interesting room instead.

But this small house didn't have many other places to explore. There was a second bedroom, but that didn't have much of note upon entering as it was half-empty: a desk with minimal desk stuff on it… most interesting were some unopened cardboard boxes she found in the closet that were still taped shut. Strange. They were simply labeled ‘Kennedy Stuff’ in marker, whatever that really meant. She'd love to rifle through all their contents and find out if it weren't for the tape stopping her. For now…

Well, given she'd already spent time in the bathroom last night, that left Jack's room. She debated if she wanted to sneak in quietly and risk waking him and getting caught. She slowly opened the door just a crack to peek inside…

And she saw the messy bed was empty. No one was in that room.

Now she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take the opportunity to explore Jack’s room or to first ascertain where he even was.

She decided to go search the bathroom next instead.

So she opened the bathroom door and–

*gasp*

“Bejesus, you scared me!” Jack blurted startled with a hand over his chest. But then self-awareness quickly kicked in since he quickly turned away from Pruny in a way that failed to be casual.

And Violet knew why because the man she accidentally interrupted looked ghastly and frankly terrified her at first glance. But she understood quickly what he was in the middle of doing and why from the open orange jars at the sink he’d just been using.

Jack, recovering from being caught off guard, turned back to at least somewhat face her, one hand at his cheek as if it would help hide it. He said something to her, but she didn't know what, with his hand blocking his mouth–

And only growing more awkwardly flustered, he abruptly jerked his hand down away from his face as if reading her mind.

“Sorry, you, uh… You're up early aren't you? Caught me in the middle of my makeup–”

But that filled Violet with some excitement as she rushed toward the sink to see it.

“O-Okay then–” Jack stepped back mildly bewildered to give her space to indulge in her sudden fascination.

And oh boy was there a lot of it!! Just whole jars of orange stuff, though it seemed cheap. And looking back up at Jack again, he seemed to have gotten to his forehead, under-eyes and part of his left cheek so far with how it's bright orange contrasted with the rotten, grey-ish maroon rest of his face and neck as well as the hands and– Violet then noticed that along his arms–both of them–were deeply indented, discolored gash lines running down them. She had so many questions, and she didn't know what the appropriate way to feel should be– and then suddenly she realized she'd been just staring at his rotten skin for seconds too long, and it was her turn to look away sheepishly.

Jack's arm then reached for another dab of makeup to slather onto his face, his attention returned back to the mirror again. She quickly saw that this guy was not very good at this, at least not compared to how her street friend showed her how they did it. Unfortunately, she’d never done it for herself, so she couldn’t show Jack how to do it better if she wanted to.

At the rate he was going… How long would this take? Did he do this every morning? Would it be weird if she just watched him put on makeup for a while? It’s not like there was anything better to do right now, now that she was well awake, and his face admittedly made her morbidly curious–

“By the way, just for future reference, it’s good manners to knock before entering a bathroom if the door’s closed,” he said while continuing to smear orange streaks across his cheek. She nodded in acknowledgement. The thought didn’t even occur to her since she wouldn’t hear an answer if there was one anyway.

Violet picked up an orange jar to look at it closer to give her a more polite thing to stare at instead. Orange, huh? It seemed to be from some company that specialized in costume makeup and such. She turned immediately as Jack started talking–

“--’re wondering why orange, huh? It was the only color they were practically begging to get rid of. Well, the best of a couple colors; the other options were even worse if you can imagine.”

Violet opened the jar to observe the texture of its contents–

“--free to try some on. If you’re bold enough, that is.”

She swiped some of it onto her fingers and smeared it across the back of her other hand. The orange comically contrasted very gaudily against her purple skin.

“Oh, sorry, you probably came in here for a reason. Did you need to use the bathroom?”

She shook her head. She was just being nosy.

“Well, either way, if you wanna freshen up, I got some stuff for you last night!”

He stopped mid-application of makeup to head out of the bathroom to get something–

–when he opened the door, a purple figure was standing right there, quickly realizing he was caught eavesdropping.

The half-orange man groaned a deep, exasperated sigh, loud enough that even she could hear it well.

“Dave, are you unacquainted with the concept of privacy?”

“Why hello there old sports! You’re looking, uh, dashing this morning…?”

“Dave, I thought you were the kind of person to sleep in late? What are you doing up at 8 in the morning?”

“Well, I DO sleep in late, given I have a half-decent bed to sleep in!” he retorted pointedly. “‘Sides, I heard you talkin’ in there, so I wanted to know what I was missin’ out on!”

“This kind of thing is exactly what I was afraid would start happening…”

“You’re pretty good with kids by the way!”

Jack just blankly stared back.

The statement hung in the air unanswered for a few too many seconds until Jack pushed past Dave for the kitchen.

Jack picked up the grocery bag. “Anyway: here Pruny, we got you some extra things. Look, toothbrush and toothpaste, some hair ties–” Jack handed her the bag and with elation, she ruffled through it to see the contents for herself.

“So how’d you get to be so good with kiddins anyway?” Dave added with no subtlety.

"...I'm really not, Dave, believe me."

"Nonsense! You got her warmed up to ya like-"

“Now Pruny, why don’t you ask Dave to tie your hair up while I go finish up in the bathroom?”

“I dunno, I think you’d probably be much better at that than I would, old sport!”

“Well, there’s no better way to improve than to practice then, is there? I can’t do everything for her, y’know.”

“But I’d need someone more experienced to show me how first!”

“Figure it out yourself! It’s really not that complicated to learn, Pruny could probably even teach you I bet!”

“Out of curiosity, where’d you first learn how to do it? You didn’t have long hair to tie yourself in your younger days, did you?”

This drawn out back and forth was getting more and more passive aggressive. Violet was starting to not like it.

“Dave, remember when I asked you to drop the issue last night?”

“And what issue was that again? You’ll have to remind me.”

“No, I’m not a parent!" Jack snapped. "I just had a little sister, now will that shut you up?”

“A sister!” Dave’s insufferable cheekiness suddenly gave way to genuine, delighted interest as he pestered a retreating Jack who was ignoring him again. “Now I’m even more curious! What was she like!? Were you guys close!? What’s her name!? Why don't you talk about her-”

The bathroom door closed in front of Dave, halting his onslaught of questions.

“Fine then, keep your secrets!” Dave retorted nonchalantly.

Violet could tell Jack regretted saying anything at all. But she also couldn’t deny having her curiosity piqued as well. A guilty part of her was hoping Dave would eventually drag an answer out of him too, though she felt equally bad about Jack being put in a bad mood again. Dave seemed to have a talent for that, didn't he?

“Well then! Pruny!” He turned back to Pruny with a smile that changed the topic. “Let’s have a go at this hair business, eh? You think that hair’s long enough for a braid?”

Pruny didn’t even know how to do a braid herself, and she seriously doubted Dave did either, despite his newfound confidence.

(Chapter 9) ->

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

FANART! :D

Thanks again to @p13rr0t for the awesome drawing, it has lived rent free in my head for a while since I first received it from them <3

[boots-with-the-fur-club]

Chapter 2 of my reincarnation fic!

@rottmnt-background-screenshots

@daboyau

“Okay, this clearly is something beyond my scope.” Donnie comments as he watches the recording from last night.

This was after he saw the readings he got were nearly incomprehensible.

The recording showed them all having their markings glow throughout the night.

There was also the fact that each of them remembered the dream from their own perspective.

The exact same dream.

“Draxum could probably tell us what’s happening.” Mikey suggests.

“Normally I’d keep pushing for science, but I’m worried that this unregulated use of our mystic powers may cause damage like it did to our arms, so I’m in agreement for calling him.”

“Should we tell dad first? This might be some Hamato kind of thing.” Raph mentions.

“Could save us a call. Let’s go see if he’s awake.” Leo leads the way to the movie room.

They find him watching his usual commercials.

“Dad, we gotta talk.”

“What is it, Red? Did one of you boys break something again?”

“No, uh…..we shared a weird dream where we were all different people in a different place that looked pretty old.”

Splinter tenses and shuts off the projector, which immediately makes everyone realize how serious this could be.

“Tell me more about it.”

The turtles explain how the dream went from their different viewpoints.

Splinter frowns and rubs his beard.

“I do not believe this is anything dangerous, I think I know what’s going on.”

“So it’s a Hamato thing like Raph thought?”

“No, not exactly Orange. Maybe not entirely. Do you know what reincarnation is?”

“That’s what Tora was talking about, something about another life.” Raph answers.

“There’s one belief that when we die, we could come back as anything, even another person. These dreams might actually be memories.”

Mikey gasps loudly.

“We’ve been a family before!” He squeals and pulls Leo into a hug.

Leo dramatically moves him away.

“No way, apparently Donnie was your favorite! Go hug him!”

Mikey whimpers and gives him the biggest sad eyes he can muster.

“Kidding, kidding!” Leo quickly brings him back into the hug.

“I thought our ancestors all became ghosts after they died, so how did they become us instead?” Raph questions.

“It’s only a possibility they were Hamato. They could have been anyone. We should try to contact Karai, she would know more.” Splinter answers.

“I can’t wait to see gram gram again. It feels like it’s been forever since our last talk.”

“According to my records it’s been….2 weeks.” Donnie corrects.

“Still way too long! Let’s do it!” Leo encourages.

They all go to the area in the lair they set up specially for contacting their ancestors. It was usually just for talking to Karai since Splinter was still angry the rest of them for trying to make his sons martyrs, but his mom was also summoned for some nice chats from time to time.

They sit down on their color coded pillows that were put together close to each other in a circle. All at once, they activate their ninpo and focus on bringing Karai out. Her form slowly appears in the center.

“Hi Gram-Gram!” Mikey greets her with a smile.

“Hello boys. I’m glad to see you all again.”

“It’s good to see you too Gram-Gram, but we’ve got somethin kinda serious to ask about.” Raph comments.

“The dreams, they’re worrying you.”

“Yeah! How’d ya know?”

“When your ninpo activated, I was able to sense what was going on. Please fill me in on the rest.”

The turtles tell her what they told Splinter.

“Your father mentioned the mystic warriors that trapped the Krang, yes?“

They all nod.

“They were 500 years before my time, but it was strongly believed that they started the Foot Clan.”

“Hold on, pops said the Foot Clan worshipped the Krang! Why would they worship who they were tryna stop?”

“The Foot Clan only started worshiping the Krang after they gave the armor to my father.”

“Wait….I’m not good at math, but if the key was made 1,000 years ago and it trapped them, how were there Krang to give your dad armor?” Leo scrunches up his face.

“Some Krang managed to avoid being captured. Enough to cause centuries worth of damage….but not enough to get back the key.”

“There’s been Krang here this entire time….?”

“I don’t know what happened to them after I sealed my father away, so unfortunately I don’t have much information. What I do know is that the ancestors before we became the Hamato clan aren’t the same. Despite the mystic energy, it’s only once we separated from the Foot that we could cultivate the Ninpo. My father himself only appears because of the Ninpo used to free him.”

“Then what you’re saying is that getting our ninpo back could have helped uncover latent mystic energy from before it was actually ninpo. It shook free memories and our ninpo helps us see it all at once.” Donnie explains.

Karai nods.

“Raphael possibly experienced bits and beforehand because he was the first to dig deep. Now that you all have had major moments, Leonardo especially, they are flowing through. Because they’re not channeled, they are random and scattered still. Through meditation and shared ninpo, you could see them clearly and without having to sleep to do it. Some memories may only come through based on the person you’re sharing ninpo with.”

“Thanks for the advice Gram-Gram. We’ll start practicin.” Raph smiles at her.

“Stay safe and be careful.” She vanishes into green light.

“We should try it out now! I want to see more of what we were like!” Mikey shouts excitedly.

“I’m with Mikey, small Raph is hilarious.” Leo smirks.

“This may help be gather more data about this whole situation so I agree too.” Donnie states.

“Go on and try. I will stay with you in case something goes wrong.” Splinter adds.

“Let’s do it then!” Raph stands up and he helps his brothers bring their seats closer together.

Splinter sits outside the new circle and the turtles hold hands before closing their eyes. They each dig into their ninpo, causing their marks to light up like before. Thoughts of the lives they led before transform the dark in front of them into a bright and cloudless day. There’s a dirt road in front of them as well, one that’s moving. It seemed they were hitching a ride on a cart that was mostly occupied with hay.

Kosuke and Tora both kick their feet up and down as they sit together on the edge of the cart. Aoi yawns as leans against the hay and Tomo frowns while looking at the younger two of their group.

“You’re sure that you know how to earn money?”

“How do you think I’ve kept me and Tora fed? I told you not to worry. I’ve got everything under control. Now that I’m your big brother-“

“We’re the same age.”

“But I’m bigger, so I’m the biggest brother, and that means I take care of all of you.”

“They won’t take us to any orphanages?”

“I’ll be honest with you, the orphanage didn’t care that you left. They probably filled up the spaces there already. None of them want to take in any kids they don’t have to. We can stay together. That’s a sworn promise.”

“Don’t promise something you can’t keep.”

“That’s why I don’t! I can make sure no one gets taken away. Just like I can keep us fed. We’re already almost there.” He points towards a farm.

“A farm? What will we do there?”

“Anything they need us to. If they don’t need help then we go to their neighbors.”

“Ugh, physical labor….”

Aoi laughs.

“I’ll be doing most of the heavy lifting.”

“But I help too!” Tora interjects.

“That true, she is a force to be reckoned with. I saw her carry a hay bale twice her size.”

“Really!? No wonder we got that boulder down! You’re so strong!” Kosuke’s eyes light up.

Tora moves her sleeve up and proudly flexes her arm.

Kosuke pokes her arm in awe.

They eventually get off the cart before heading towards the house. Aoi introduces himself and everybody else then asks about any work they could help out with for money.

To Tomo’s surprise, the farmer eagerly accepts. Aoi is sent to take care of the farm animals while the rest of the three harvest fruit.

Tora pouts heavily as she picks pears off the tree and places them in a basket.

“No fair….they won’t let me help him because I’m a girl.”

“I’m surprised anyone had let you before.” Tomo comments.

“It’s because I was wearing a boy’s yukata. In my next life I want to be a big and strong boy like aniki.”

“You could grow bigger and stronger as a girl! So big and strong that you’re better than any boy.” Kosuke suggests.

Tora’s eyes sparkle like everything was just made clear.

“You’re a genius!”

Kosuke smiles widely.

They only stop working once the sun goes down. The three of them head to the house and see Aoi already there, talking to the farmer again. When he sees them, he ends the conversation and rushes over.

“Guys! He said we could sleep in the barn for tonight.”

“What? How’d you convince him of that?” Tomo questions.

“Aniki is the best at talking to people.” Tora says proudly.

“That’s not a real answer.”

“No worrying about how! Let’s just get to sleep.” Aoi walks past them and to the barn.

Tomo narrows his eyes as he watches him again and is the last to follow him. The farmer’s wife was nice enough to give them futons to sleep on before leaving them to rest.

Kosuke was snuggled into Tomo’s side despite the summer heat. Tora was already fast asleep, splayed out with her limbs on top of Aoi’s.

“How do you sleep like that?” Tomo doesn’t move his head, but he can see it clearly.

“You get used to it. It’s part of being a family. Goodnight!” Aoi closes his eyes.

Tomo sighs and does the same.

It’s difficult for him to actually fall asleep. He’s aware that everything is okay, that they’re safer than they had been for a while.

So why can’t he sleep?

After what could have been hours, he’s never sure when this happens, he finally opens his eyes and looks over back at Aoi.

All he sees is Tora hugging an empty futon.

Panic fills him as he sits straight up, still avoiding waking up. He notices that the barn door is closed. It only made everything seem weirder. He quickly leaves the barn and glances around outside to see if Aoi was nearby.

No luck.

He closes the barn door behind him and starts searching the whole farm. Once getting to the chicken coop, his seeking ends.

Aoi is in the middle of a yawn but jerks up in surprise.

“Tomo! Whaaat are you doing here?”

“That’s the question I have.”

“Just….getting some air. Couldn’t sleep.”

“Your words say one thing but your yawning says another.”

Aoi sighs.

“They only let us stay here because I agreed to guard their animals. Something has been spooking through chickens.”

“You worked harder than us today, why didn’t you ask for someone else to do it?”

“Because there’s no way I’m letting any of you get hurt if it’s a big animal! The rule is that it’s me before anyone else in this family.”

“I don’t recall agreeing to that.”

“Too bad, biggest brother makes the rules.”

“For the last time, you’re not-“ Tomo looks behind him and freezes.

Aoi turns around and sees glowing eyes in the darkness. His arm immediately shoots out and across Tomo’s chest.

“Get behind me!”

“I can’t just-!”

Whatever is in the darkness starts coming closer, fast, and Aoi throws himself over Tomo. His eyes shut right and he tenses as he curls protectively around him.

“…..Aoi. It’s okay. You can get up.”

He opens his eyes.

“Why?”

“It’s just a cat.”

Aoi quickly moves away from him and sees the cat casually stroll away.

“The gods are cruel.” He sighs heavily in relief.

“…..You really meant everything you said.”

“Of course I did. I really don’t know you or your brother, but when we became kenzoku, that wasn’t something to just say. We’re in this together now. Even if I wasn’t older than you, I’d still want to protect you. I’d want to help.” He smiles.

“I still feel like….the kind of person you are….the way you act, you don’t really exist. You can’t.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep proving I do.”

Tomo smiles back softly.

“Now come on, you should get back to sleep.”

Aoi starts pulling him along.

“I don’t think so. Stay here.”

Tomo makes him let go and rushes off. Aoi stays where he’s standing, confused.

That is until Tomo brings their futons back with him and lays them on the ground.

“We’re sleeping in shifts.”

“But-“

“No buts. It’s the only way I’ll be able to get rest. You sleep first before anymore cats get here.”

Aoi chuckles.

“Okay, okay, deal.”

He lays down and Tomo sits upright on his.

“Goodnight, for real this time.” Aoi closes his eyes.

“Goodnight.” Tomo looks at him and watches him actually fall asleep.

He then looks back at the barn where everyone else is sleeping.

“And thank you.”

The turtles snap out of the memory and open their eyes.

“Ohmigosh, we were so cute!” Mikey squeals.

“That cat part was pretty funny, right Donnie?….Donnie…?” Leo’s eyes widen as he looks at him.

He’s crying.

[servospawn]

✎┊Get to know me ⤫

Tagged by @thegloomiestwhim 🖤

1. What’s your favorite sims death? 

Blunt force trauma via vending machine. 

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match?

Maxis Mix &proud of it. 

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight?

Nope. They’ve been known to fluctuate their weight often. 

4. Do you use move objects?

Is that a serious question? 

5. Favorite mod? 

I’m not even sure anymore so I’ll just say everything from Nraas. 

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? 

Livin’ Large.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing?

Alive.. anything else is weird.

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made?

I haven’t shown his sim form in YEARS.. but this answer will always be the same: Granger 

9. Have you made a simself?

I have. I still have her too. One day I’ll throw her back in my game so she can embarrass me some more. 

10. What sim traits do you give yourself?

Foodie, Perfectionist, Hates Children, Loner.

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color?

Black.. not that nasty blue/black. BLACK.

12. Favorite EA hair?

Idk.. probably that one TS3 hair that looked like uncooked ramen because Granger wore it forever. 

13. Favorite life stage?

YA.. but I’m learning to actually have my sims age for once. 

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay?

I only build unless I’m forced to, so.. gameplay.

15. Are you a CC creator?

A fake one.. sure. 

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad?

@x-virtualism-x, @fanaskher, & @touchmypixels have been with me from the beginning.. &a few others who are no longer here.

But really I’m including anyone who has witnessed this blog become complete &utter garbage. It’s been a ride.

17. What’s your favorite game?

Round of applause for The Sims 3.

18. Do you have any sims merch?

Lol.. chill.

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims?

Nah.

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing?

Sheesh.. a lot??? 

I guess I’ll say that my sim style has included more realism over time of being here. Seeing their portraits side by side (from left to right) as they’ve grown into how they look now is a little jarring for me because I’m not really sure if it’s consistent. If you look hard enough or you’ve followed me for a while you can tell that some of them are the same sim but others like Ben have gone through some serious overhauls. 

Mostly that reason is because in my eyes they’ll be forever wips. I’m always changing something about their background, story arcs or genetics &all that comes into play with their appearance. 

As far as my actual sim style is concerned.. IMO.. I’ve improved. When it comes to personal preference your own opinion is what should matter so please never let anyone else influence you on how your sims should look/behave. That goes for life in general too.

21. What’s your Origin ID?

Servospawn.

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator?

I can safely say that I have Sandy’s entire catalog &she’s the only one I’ve ever donated to, so.. AroundTheSims3/4.

23. How long have you had a simblr?

Est ‘13.

10 big ones.

24. How do you edit your pictures?

Photoshop. I’ve simplified my editing drastically over the years. I run my gameplay shots through a couple of actions &call it a day.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far?

For TS3.. University. TS4.. idk. I haven’t stuck with it consistently enough to form a well rounded thought on any of the recent packs. 

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next?

We not buying shit over here.

This was fun to do.. thank you. I tag @x-virtualism-x, @fanaskher, @touchmypixels, @wooldawn, @crsentfairy, @kazuaru, @pralinesims, @sims3melancholic, @vyxated, @birdietrait, @xldkx, @non-sims, @therichantsim​ &whoever else wants to do this. If you did already please disregard.