#i need to watch this movie repeatedly until i die now

[franzivonkarma]

Tomorrow it will have been a week since I first watched IWTV but every day of that week I have thought of the fact that they had a daughter they both had a hand in creating at least once, usually more. And also the fact that Louis turned that woman for Claudia (idk her name, does she have one? SORRY) and then THEY BOTH DIED just like his wife and child. His wife died in childbirth, which is something he inflicted upon her, and so the child died too, and the exact same thing happened with that other woman and Claudia but with vampirism, which he also inflicted upon this woman. GOD

[evilminji]

Okay, you know how bird don't ACTUALLY look the way we think they do?

They are far more colorful? But only to the eyes of other birds?

And it has to do with how light reflects off them and how their eyes are shaped etc etc.?

Well..... humans can see the most shades of green, right? But! We sure as shit can't see UltaViolet and InfraRed? Or shades BEYOND those. Ectoplasmic colors. Magical ones. Third eye, need to see with your SOUL type ones.

Danny? Could very well still have lil baby "kitten's eyes who haven't open yet" syndrome.

He thinks the Zone is Green and his hair is white.

But it's not.

His hair is Starlight colored. Frost. His suit is specifically "the void between stars" colored. Which looks... different? Then black? No, no, guys. How can you guys not see it? It looks REALLY different! How did he not NOTICE before?! They're not ever CLOSE to the same shade! It's like calling salmon and hot pink the same. You know... if you were to compare an actual fish and some irradiated, violently glowing version of "hot pink".

......guys?

His gloves are.... guys, these ares stars. Pressed so close together there's no gap. His body is the night sky, all rearranged. He's wearing SPACE, guys.

*continues to stare at his gloves for the next five hours*

Now... why is this relevant? Because! Danny slowly, as all humans do, adjusts! It's like finally having glasses after years of blurry vision. He... forgets, what it was like, not NOT See Zone Colors. Not completely, mind you, but enough he has to be reminded.

And the Zone? A Realm of the Dead. Specifically, the great catch-all and highway of the Dead. They get EVERYBODY. Misfits and vagabonds. Those who don't quite fit. Funky lil dudes. And of course, assholes, but everybody has those! See, Zone colors?

Are DIFFERENT.

They're all of um!

It's like looking at the technicolor, stobe light, multi galaxies in one, Sun. Tingly(tm)!!! You get used to it. What helps? Is that as garish as the Zone is? The painting and grand tapestry of it all? Keeps changing. Like weather. If it's too much for you, you can stay inside your Lair until the current Color changes. Until the designs shift. Vibe changes.

There are even glasses for that! "Temperate" areas for people to set up, that get headaches or are just... kinda killjoys. Too each their own. Though the stormy areas? Those guys are freaks. Watch out for those guys. They're the kind who stare directly are stars until their eyes burn out.

Where was I? Oh yeah! Danny!

No longer a wee baby, smol baby, twig-o!

Sad. We miss it.

But he did get used to Seeing The Colors. Got a handle on his powers. And! Finally worked with his parents on how to safely turn the portal OFF. There was much booing. Cries of "kill joy" and "booo! You suck!". But? Like? Dude DID have the right to protect his home. Go to college. What can you do?

Problem with THAT is? Baby grew into his "built like a brick shit house of constantly running off to literally tackle the Supernatural excellence" Fenton genetics. He Tall. Muscles! And he PUMPING out "somethings fucked up with me" Vibes!

Add in his DEEPLY Sus off hand comments. Weird ability to tell when someone has or is about to die. Basic immunity to the cold. Fuckin EYE GLOW?

Ha ha... *Horror movie screams from his college dorm mates*

Clearly a demon!

He gets kicked out. Well... not kicked out. He's a model student and broken no rules. They'd never survive the lawsuit. But... he's? STRONGLY INCOURAGED to finish his education elsewhere. Repeatedly. By like... 15 colleges.

Sam is not just livid, she's actively foaming at the mouth.

Breathe, Sam! Remember what your doctor said! Your mortal body can't handle that kinda Vengance spiral! Think of your blood pressure! Breathe!!! (Were not for the laws of this land... and the weak, fleshy constraints of her mortal form!)

Thankfully? Tucker's been interning, remotely of course, with Wayne Industries. He asked his manager where he could find some of those scholarship forms. (Since Gotham University is just a touch out of Danny's price range.) Manager wanted to know why. And oh! Oh holy shit. Apparently? Danny is the hot new office gossip.

People in the main office are OUTRAGED. Danny's "too spooky"?! Too FUCKIN SPOOKY!? Are you KIDDING THEM? Even juicier, a Meta kid from some wacky ghost hunters turned scientists. From a line of Supernatural hunters. Wants to be a aeronautics engineer.

Ooooooh how SPOOKY! Better watch out! He'll design an ENGINE at yooooou!

Fuckin casuals. Non-Gothamites are WEAK. "Too scary" their collective asses. Yeah, maybe the kid SHOULD come too Gotham. He can be the weird kid. Mildly unsettling or something. His powers won't be SHIT in Gotham. Just remind him to buy a gas mask.

So! Danny gets his Scholarship! Merrily packs his bags for darker, Gothic hellscape hills. Unaware... that Constantine has been following reports of a "demon" that he's? 80% sure is a Banshee but MIGHT be a winter spirt with a shtick? For the past 13 colleges. He's getting closer. And this sucker is a strong one.

Not "this is going to cause me serious, life imperilling danger" strong. But more? "Man, that cat is HUUUUUGE". Could he still get mauled a lil? Yeah. Scratched to all hell and back? Probably! But DIE? Unlikely.

He just needs to know why the FUCK this spirit his hanging around colleges.

Which is made harder... by the fact that what HE sees? And what OTHER people see? When they look at this guy? Separate things. Yeah, he'd LOVE to give you guys a description! IF HE HAD ONE.

@the-witchhunter @hdgnj @hdgnj @spidori @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @lolottes

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Excessive Force : Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE INCREDIBLE @johnwickb1tsch) - Chapter One

Summary : After you treat him in the ER, Officer Tom Ludlow asks you out. You turn him down, thinking you know his type, but he’s not willing to take no for an answer. In fact, you find out he’s more than willing to abuse his authority in his pursuit of you. Maybe Ludlow seems like an asshole, but when you are drawn into a dangerous conspiracy that could go all the way to the top of the LAPD, he might be the only thing that stands between you and a shallow grave.

TW : Abuse of authority, alpha male, sexual harassment, the word “no” is not in this man’s vocabulary

The ER is overflowing tonight. There was a huge drug bust down on South Hampton Avenue that ended in a fire and gunfight: turned out to be a big enough debacle that they had to call a code black throughout the hospital, which basically means, at least for you, no breaks or time between patients. In times like this, charting even takes a back burner thanks to a hospital policy where everything you learned in nursing school flies out the window and you don’t have to document what you’re doing. 

It’s a good thing, because you don’t have time to log onto a computer let alone write something down with pen and paper. Burn victims, gunshots, every bed full, people boarding in the waiting room and hallways with broken limbs and makeshift pressure dressings on bullet holes and stab wounds.

The once chemical, pristine floor and walls now look like something from a SAW movie, and you’re not much better off. Bloody, dirt caked scrubs, exhausted, sweat stains. You’ve probably done more chest compressing tonight than you have in your entire career leading up. And you’ve seen more people die tonight… well, more than you’d like.

You wipe some tears off your cheeks, pretending it’s sweat, before walking into the lobby to catch the stragglers. “Thomas?”

“Call me Tom.” He’s a cop, still in uniform, sitting on the floor with a big puff of gauze pressed into his shoulder. You kneel down beside him. 

“I’m y/n, can I take a look?”

“Sure.” He winces, pulls the bloody dressing away to reveal a big, messy gash slicing into his left shoulder. It will need stitches, that’s for sure, but other than that it looks like a fairly clean cut. 

“Knife?” You ask him, pulling back on his shirt. 

“Some fucking idiot crackhead with a sword, actually,” he grits. 

You laugh a little bit. “I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“So am I.” He tries to grin at you, but it comes out more like a snarl because of the way you’re poking and prodding at him. 

Maybe it's just because you're exhausted, you've had a terrible night, and you hurt all over, but you can't help but notice how handsome this man is, even after his own ordeals on the mean streets of the City of Angels. He watches you with sharp dark eyes that miss nothing. You almost feel sorry for the criminals who find themselves on the receiving end of that stare. As it is, you almost feel a little unnerved yourself, until you notice a sparkle of humor for you in those dark orbs. However, you still get the feeling like he's studying you while you are tending his wound.

“I gotta stitch this,” you tell him, a little shy under his gaze, now. 

“Are you good at that?” 

You’re kind of in your own little world when he asks that, looking at his arms. Solid and big. Nice veins. It takes you a minute to register that he even said something. Yeah, you chastise yourself, why don’t you just start fucking drooling while you’re at it? 

“Good at what?” 

His grin tips higher. “Stitches…” 

“No, but I'm going to stab you repeatedly with a needle anyway…”

He chuffs with laughter. “You just seem a little distracted.” The way he smirks at you, you just know you're caught out. Get it together, you scold yourself. Maybe act like a professional instead of oogling the nice police officer.

“Sorry. It's just been a really long night. I promise, you're in good hands.”

“Looking forward to it,” he answers, with a beam of direct eye contact that nearly brings you to your knees. 

This is where you catch your lucky break, because this is where you start to get annoyed. Mostly, at yourself, but partly at him too. He clearly knows how attractive he is. He's just that kind of asshole. And it's been fucking forever since you've gotten laid, because the world is just so full of assholes… It's not fair, the way he uses this advantage to tease you, when you feel like an extra in a Rob Zombie film. You do your best to appear unaffected as you walk away to retrieve supplies. You also pretend not to notice him staring at your ass, which, okay, you have to admit, it’s a little bit of a confidence boost. 

It’s almost stupid to put towels under his arm as you spray him off with sterile water - this floor could actually use it. You get the edges pink and shiny, uncake the blood and the viscera. Grateful for the distraction - distraction from the big, brown eyed cop who won’t stop looking at you. 

He has that type of stare that has weight to it. You feel it, on your skin– and you hate to admit it– in the aching throb between your legs, which is the last thing you need to be distracted by right now. Ah, the stupid lady parts, always making their vote known at the worst possible time. 

Even though you let the anesthetic sit for a while, modern medicine can’t account for all the pain. He’s wincing and grunting while you tug his open flesh back together, and those gruff sounds are not helping this whole being attracted to him situation. You feel like your skin is on fire from his overwhelming stare, from the noises coming out of that long throat. Christ, he’s not even touching you…

“You alright there sweetheart? I'm the one under the needle.”

You look at him, some of that anger escaping in your tone. “Please don’t call me sweetheart.” 

“Sorry. Been a long night for me too.” He lifts one of those sculpted dark brows at you, and you feel it as your heart tries most earnestly to tap dance right out of your fucking chest. 

You sigh, narrowing your eyes so that he knows he's not in the clear. Unfortunately, he just seems to find that adorable, those dark eyes sparkling like black diamonds. 

“Just…let me finish you off so you can get out of here.”

“Didn't know you performed that service here,” he quips with a smirk, and you're almost relieved he drives this final nail into his coffin, even if the suggestion makes a spear of desire shoot through you. 

“I'm starting to side with the crackhead now.”

“Ooo, ouch,” he snarks, unaffected. “Take your time, this is the most fun I've had in a while.”

You decide not to answer, concentrating on your work. This man has a quick comeback for everything, you have a feeling. Worse, you kind of doubt a girl like you has a chance in hell of outmaneuvering him.

As you're bandaging him up, he senses your time together is coming to a close. His demeanor changes a little– if you didn't know any better,  you'd think he was sad about it. “Thanks for stitching me up,” he says, surprisingly humble. He rolls those big dark eyes up to yours, and you feel your resolve to be a stone cold professional crumble–a little.

“You're welcome.” It's possible your touch on his shoulder lingers just slightly longer than it should. 

“Hey…” He clearly feels bold enough to catch your hand in his. And holy shit, that hand. Your little mitt disappears in his, wrapped up in long, blunt fingers. The things you bet that hand could do to you…

It's definitely not a helpful thought.

“Any chance I could give you a call sometime?”

Your initial, knee-jerk reaction to this question, from this fine-ass man, is Yes, please and thank you. You're sure he sees it in your eyes, the way you're practically ready to sit up and bark for him.

But then, past experiences raise their hands to the situation, and how grateful you are. 

You know this guy's type, you convince yourself. Handsome, and macho, and they think they're so cute they can say anything and you'll just keep eating out of the palm of their hand, grateful to be their girl. You've starred in this show before– and it always ends in tragedy, with your heart in shreds, and them shrugging you off before moving on. 

Not tonight. 

“Sorry, but…I think it's best we keep this professional.”

Why does it hurt to say it?

You expect him to sulk, maybe even get mean, the way so many manly men do when a woman bruises their fragile egos. However, it seems this man is different. He just smirks, and you realize with a skip of your heartbeat, that he is not deterred at all.

“If you say so, sweetheart.”

With your heart in your throat, you have a feeling this is not the last you see of detective Tom Ludlow.

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I had coffee my thoughts are all over the place it's not gonna make sense and I'm probably gonna change my mind about some of the things I said later but here's my ramble.

I'm so mad right now. There's so many things that piss me off with Peter B. I keep thinking about all the mess he keeps pulling throughout the first and the second movie. The fact that he betrayed Miles not once but twice BUT THREE TIMES (typing Miles up in ITSV, not telling him about the Spider Society or that he was an anomaly, CALLING HQ ON HIM BECAUSE HE WANTED TO SAVE HIS FATHER. Technically that's 4 but moving on.)

He refuses to acknowledge Miles as a fellow spider(which is probably why he didn't feel bad about finding Miles was an anomaly now he has a reason to not take Miles seriously.) And he keeps trying to insert himself into a mentor role when he's yet to do a whole lot of mentoring. What also throws me here is how he had the audacity to say the trauma builds character while being a mentor to help guide Miles into becoming Spiderman so Miles' could avoid the mistakes that Peter made.

I WILL NEVER BE OVER THAT CHAIR SCENE IN ITSV. How is it you as a grown man. A grown white man no less took a black teenage boy who you viewed as so much of a liability that you had to tie him up. And I know multiple people have talked about everything that's wrong with this scene but there's still something so haunting about watching him just nonchalantly be tied up kicking and screaming about how he wants to be let go that bothers me so much. And I find it hard to believe that this was just a scene we're supposed to just move on from. Did they do this on purpose? Was this supposed to showcase something about Peter's character that I'm not picking up on? Because I find it so hard to believe that the writers who made sure to explicitly show how Gwen's Peter is Christian because he later turns into a lizard wouldn't understand the implications of this scene.

I also don't think he's a strategic as he thinks he is. What do you think was going to happen when you forcefully tied this boy to a chair? You thought he was going to sit still? Also would you think the boy who's trying to save his father was going to do? Actually listen to your words? Sit back and be like, oh you're right I should just let my father die. (This is me going off my reasoning that he didn't plan out that one scene in ATSV. I think that he thought that because he's Miles' "mentor" he could get through to him in a way others can't. Which pretentious much?) His actions do more harm than good and it just works out for him somehow. (For instance Miles saving them in ITSV because he came late.)

These are my thoughts do with this what you will. All the stars decided to align today ig because I haven't been able to come up with coherent thoughts like this in a minute.

(I really need to rewatch itsv. So if there's anything here that I'm wrong about regarding itsv it's been like 5 years since I've seen it.)

I GET THISS SOOO HARD (I waited until I had coffee to answer this lol)

BUT YESSSSS Because like I can understanding giving Peter the benefit of the doubt, it makes plausible sense for a movie to have a certain amount of wiggle room plot wise.

But with writers who clearly understood punk enough to accurately show it in Hobie's arc, repeatedly put in the work to respect Cockney and Puerto Rican culture, who wrote every one of Hobie's lines with PERCISION - would just overlook the glaring hole in their story that is Peter.

Because we as a viewer are continually told we SHOULD look up to him and we SHOULD trust him - but in doing so they accidentally make him the exact opposite. Like.. It doesn't make sense to me.

The Focus on Jess & The Absence of Peter:

aka GODDAMN I hate Peter B. Parker [yet another rant about 'bad' writing, plotholes, and Peter not showing up for Miles or Gwen.

For example,

Jess is Gwen's mentor, and we see her mentor style is extremely different from Peter's and that's suppose to be a contrasting dynamic between them and the relationship between Miles and Peter. Okay, makes sense.

But by NOT having Peter be Gwen's mentor, the writers are implying that he didn't step up as an emotional mentor when all this given - HE SHOULD. Because he's the only adult that she knows, and she a freshly homeless teen who needs to be around people she trusts, rather than working at a society with an auditorium of adults.

But by trying to show off how much we should judge Jess, the writers have inadvertently given us a Peter who just..didn't take responsibility. That's what they're implying - that Hobie and Jess were the ones who came to get aid. And we're suppose to look the other way. I... can't do that, sir.

"Look at how mean Jess is, why not blame her-" Jess is doing her job. Where's the adult she actually knows and trusts. Can we get some dialogue about what he did for her? Or did he just do nothing?

Did they just forget to include that, or did Peter just forget to help?

For me, that's two points in the bucket. Not housing Gwen, and not being her mentor. He could've done one, the other or both.

But because he didn't, we're left asking "What WAS he doing in the Society?"

Missions, I assume. Cause he wasn't mentoring her, so he must have been off putting in legit work for Miguel, I assume.

If we're looking at the characters as full-rounded - which I would hope they are considering the depth of Gwen, Miles and Hobie, it's not a large jump to ask 'How involved was Peter in Gwen's time at the Society? Why is he not her mentor, or why is she not living with him?"

Gwen..should be staying with him. If you're an adult who knows a teen and they become homeless, and it is within your means - yeah, I do think it's a moral obligation to open your home to them, at least temporarily. If you care about them. But that aside, let's extend the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Gwen didn't want to see him.

But then the ratting Miles out thing. This, I can't get around-

Some may say that it was simply for plot development and that Lyla spoke suddenly as a mistake on her part.

And I gotta call bullshit.

Firstly, because this is the same movie where we're shown Hobie stealing parts prior to learning what the parts are for. The same film that literally animated a fight accurately to Bushwick down to the very street. Let's cut it some slack here.

And moreso - I could understand the justification that it was a mistake on Lyla's part.

If Lyla was human. She's not.

She's an AI, and a very sophisticated one at that. Lyla runs on protocol, because that's AI's do. She's made to do things the way that is mathematically most effective, based on her analysis and her code.

It's easy to see Lyla as just an avatar, and a comedic one at that - but Lyla is literally one of - if not the - smartest 'person' in the multiverse. She's the only one who can track Spot in real time. If Jess and Miguel need aid on a mission or with Spot, they call Lyla. And she's handled every Society mission prior to the chase.

Her speaking out of turn suddenly and giving Peter away is an understandable plot mistake, if she was subjected to human mistakes.

So far, Lyla isn't. It doesn't make sense, based on what Lyla is.

I think Lyla would know better than to give Peter away suddenly by detecting Miles' presence and still speaking out loud.

A lot ask 'What motive does Peter have for ratting Miles out?', but we also should also ask "What motive does Lyla have for ratting herself out?'

It's her goal to find Miles no matter what. She doesn't care, she kinda can't - she's an AI. She just has to find him and send Miles' location to Miguel. Her objective.

So her locating Peter without his knowledge and then giving herself away to him doesn't make sense - especially if Lyla knew Miles was that close, from a human standpoint and definitely from the standpoint of the most sophisticated AI in existence.

So I was under the assumption that - like you mentioned now, that before when he gets Miles alone, he may genuinely be trying to convince him still, but by the time they get into that space, I think that's around the time that it becomes a 'Okay, let's just get Miles back to HQ and talk about this' situation.

He genuinely ratted Miles out. In my eyes.

Because at this point, Miguel hasn't assaulted Miles. That comes later. So realistically speaking, his goal was probably to calm Miles down, and get him back to HQ however he could, and talk to him there.

Peter could've helped WAYYYY earlier.

People give Peter credit like 'Oh but he came over to Miles' side at the end-'

NO. YOU DO NOT GET A COOKIE.

Peter could've helped SO much earlier, and if anything, he was THE ONLY ONE in a position of helping.

Gwen can't do anything, like they physically restrain her when she tries to. And there's no point after they come to HQ that Gwen has the chance to turn around and help Peter.

Gwen doesn't get that chance. Peter DOES.

Had Peter helped Miles HERE, IMMEDIATELY, Miles would've gotten away without being assaulted by Peter.

If Peter had turned around and changed course in this moment, Miles would have been better off.

Fuck Peter B. Fuckkkkk hiiiimmmmm. NAWWWWWW

If Peter had let him go here, or helped him escape - Miles wouldn't have been taking hits up on that train. That's crazzzy.

But he wasn't trying to help Miles escape. If he wanted to, he would've. He could've just said "Matter of fact Miles, I think setting the WHOLE Society on you is a bizarre move and you should probably get out of here until Miguel can calm down and I can talk to him."

But he was like 'Nah, hold my baby. Matter of fact lemme tell you story in this pivotal moment when you're actively in danger. Here, look at me. What do you mean - I'm not stalling? I didn't rat him out on purpose.

Like either you did. And even if you didn't you didn't help him when you were literally the only person in the universe who could. In fact, he got away slower because of you. Lovely.

Peter is a grown man. He's not an idiot.

He knows Miles is in active danger. Why would an adult turn the conversation in that direction - about his baby - KNOWING Miles has no time.

As soon as Miles got his hands on MayDay, Peter is trying to change the conversation. Suddenly he's joking and laughing.

Even though Miles is freaking out. Why is Peter joking? He knows this isn't a joking situation. But here he is wasting Miles time, either accidentally or intentionally.

Because that'd be some good ass stalling.

There was nothing stopping Peter from helping him leave. But Peter was still on The Society's side, so he didn't. If he was on Miles' side, he would've helped him. He should've, but he was still for Miguel, because at this point Miguel hadn't assaulted Peter yet.

Congrats, Peter. Big L. Humbling Reality Spider-man everyone.

Like combine all this. AND THEN THE SCENE IN ITSV.

LITERALLY AND PHYSICALLY PETER IS ALWAYS HOLDING MILES BACK.

You cannot expect me to believe that the writers of a movie I can write 10k+ words about, just so happened to leave these two glaring plot holes for ONE character.

That I'm just suppose to ignore that Peter restrained Miles, a black boy, in ITSV. That he betrayed Miles for months, wasn't very active in Gwen's time at the Society, and he actively hinders Miles escape - if not actively ratting him out.

It baffles my mind.

It doesn't make sense, that these writers can write Hobie, Jessica, Miguel, Officer Stacy, Rio, and Jeff as fully rounded, well-thought characters. But for some reason, when it comes SPECIFICALLY to Peter B. - they just forget how to write. They just stop thinking about him the second they don't look at him.

IN BOTH MOVIES?

I don't buy it.

To have every other character be thoroughly thought through but have one of, if not these most iconic character full of plot holes...

I think the likely answer is they wrote him that way on purpose and he's just a bad person.

I'm sorry, and I'm laughing while writing this but like.

Either Peter is the ONE singular character who has a series of emotional plotholes - or he's just a bad mentor. It's one or the other. And it's open to interpretation.

But I wanna cut the writers some slack and say, No - they thought it through. And No, Lyla did not just randomly speak out of turn, he contacted her first off-screen before she replied to him.

And by waiting till the very end to come around, waiting until the person who looks up to you is deeply wounded to finally turn around - that's the same arc Officer Stacy goes through.

And we're not supposed to clap for him. It's lovely, but he doesn't get an award. And neither does Peter, not at all.

Maybe if had helped Miles escape in that moment. Maybe if he was Gwen's mentor or he housed her.

But as far as we know he spent those months of Gwen in the Society doing fuck all. We've seen no sign of his contribution anywhere.

And in a story about mentorship, that says something.

Anyway. This is long. Again fiosfgihrgirturetuier I'm SORRY

Once again, Fuck Peter B. All my Hobies hate Peter B. (not a typo)

He's worse than Jess.

And he's not worse than Miguel but I like Miguel more and it's not because of the ass that's just a bonus Miguel is cool (but also very wrong. but like personality wise we're cool).

Ummm I feel like I got off track here. Oh well!!

Damn he be doing Miles dirty. SMH

Bye.

[theeminentlyimpractical]

My 41-year-old partner watching Twilight Eclipse: A True and Mostly Accurate Record

“so…… do vampires have a pulse?” (me: “yes he eventually knocks her up”) (this was literally his first comment of the entire movie. he was concerned about this the entire fucking time*.)

“if they need her scent she should be filling up water balloons with piss and throwing them on all the trees”

“what kind of virgin? vaginal? anal? oral? nasal? ocular?” I am going to murder this man

“so do they get a u-haul to move all this antique furniture every time they move or do they fly it themselves? I wanna know vampire logistics”

“why are they hiding under the monorail?”

“I like victoria’s goth wristband straight from claire’s”

“if they’ve been dating for like two years now that’s like 24 periods right, so what did edward do the first few months before he could control himself?”

we’re at the tent scene and he’s just chanting “throuple throuple throuple” (he’s not wrong)

“her kissing jacob is definitely solidifying this as not in edward’s top 10 days”

the vampires are running through the woods and he is just yelling NARUTO repeatedly

“why do the vampires sound like aluminum foil crunching when they die?”

he looked this up and I didn’t listen to anything until “so I guess he could actually get a massive erection and tear her apart with his giant vampire dick”

“do you think jacob keeps bella’s hoodie around to smell it because he’s a dog?”

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

ABIGAIL (2024)

I was actually hesitant to watch this, because I thought the premise seemed a bit silly.  However, I remembered that the production company has already made a few movies that I enjoy, so I gave it a chance.

A crew of young and attractive criminals kidnap a rich little girl after she returns home from ballet practice.  They take her to a house, where their Fixer explains that they’re holding her ransom and they just need to wait 24 hours to receive their money from the little girl’s father.  Things progress from there, as the little girl, Abigail, indicates that her father is a big crime boss, and then one of the criminals is found decapitated!  They rush up to interrogate Abigail, but she turns into a vampire!  The criminals run away. 

In a great set piece, a few of them gather anti-vampire materials to kill Abigail.  They find her dancing with the headless body of the first victim, and she attacks them!  She tosses away hacker girl’s cloves of garlic and pummels her.  She moves on to muscle dude.  She rips off his crucifix and smiles as she repeatedly stabs him with it, and then she crazily smears blood across her face.  She stabs the last guy with his own wooden stake, and the criminals run away.

The main criminal, Joey, devises a plan to sedate Abigail, which seemed to work when they first kidnapped her, and after Abigail beats them up a bit more they capture her and put her in a cage.  Abigail wakes up and delivers a chilling speech where she reveals each of their names and backgrounds.  Turns out, each of the criminals has stolen or betrayed her father’s criminal empire, and now she’s going to kill them all!  “What can I say?" she says. "I like playing with my food.”  She eventually knocks the door off the cage, but Joey shines some sunlight on Abigail and her arm blows up.  It begins to grow back as they run away.

More criminals die, as Abigail turns hacker girl into a vampire (she bit her previously) and mind controls her to kill muscle dude.  Hacker girl vampire then chases Joey and former cop criminal, but Joey reflects some light on hacker girl vampire and she explodes in a spray of blood.  Joey and former cop criminal then find a hidden passage that leads them to their criminal fixer!  Turns out, Abigail turned him into a vampire previously, and now she's been using him to lure her father’s enemies to the house.  He offers to turn former cop criminal into a vampire so that, together, they can kill Abigail.  Former cop criminal agrees, but he turns on the fixer dude and kills him.  Abigail appears, but the new vampire dude surprises her and sucks some of her blood!

Joey runs away, but vampire dude chases her and beats her up a bit, until Abigail saves her!  Abigail explains that she needs Joey’s help to defeat new vampire dude, and after an extended fight scene they finally succeed in stabbing him with a stake, and he explodes in a spray of blood.  Joey is leaving, but then Abigail’s father appears!  It’s the guy from “Watchmen” (2009) and “Stoker” (2013).  “I’ve gone by many names, over the countless years,” he says, as he’s about to kill Joey, but Abigail stops him.  She says, “She was here when you weren’t.”  The vampires let Joey go.  She drives off, presumably to reunite with her son.

This was…fun!  The actors were sympathetic and funny, and I cared about them.  I mean, I cared a little, let’s not go crazy here.  Abigail, Alisha Weir, delivered a stunning performance.  She sobbed; she went dead-eyed; she smiled maniacally.  I haven’t seen such a good vampire performance in a long time.

[liz-allyn]

heat of the moment, pt 5 - 10,000 ways to die [tasm!peter x reader x groundhog day au]

summary: nothing is more dangerous than hope. angst; fluff; humor; final destination vibes; and yes this is in tribute to my favorite episode of television ever written - "mystery spot"

words: 4.6k

warnings: death. a lot of it. repeatedly. in this chapter: tw discussion of death, self h*rm, and su*cide, Please see end of chapter for a spoiler-y summary.

a/n - damn it, i did it again didn't i? okay, so this is the penultimate chapter. i promise. sorry.

TW: This chapter features graphic discussion of death, self-h*rm, and su*cide. Please see the end for a summary. Reader discretion is advised.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6.

Impaled by a hedge trimmer.

“It was the HEEAT OF THE MOMENT…”

Air-fried by hot oil from a turkey fryer. 

“Tellin’ me. what. my. HEART meant…”

Bitten by a venomous, illegally-smuggled pet snake.

“It was the HEAT OF THE MOMENT…

Showed in your EYEEEES…”

E.Coli from a salad.

“…HEAT of the MOMENT...”

The memories of these past Tuesdays would pop in your mind unexpectedly. They’d pass like shooting stars. It used to be extremely distracting. Distressing. But you learned to adapt.

Hit in the head by a foul baseball.

“…HEAT of the MOMENT...”

Dissected by a slow-moving, ascending elevator, whose safety system failed to open the doors when you’d become trapped.

“…HEAT of the MOMENT...”

You’d had more near-death experiences than you could possibly count. Of course it would result in some kind of PTSD. It made you more observant, more diligent. Maybe in a different life you would’ve made a great safety inspector.

Struck by a falling brick.

“…HEAT…”

Struck by a falling turtle dropped by a red-tailed hawk.

“…of the…”

Struck by a flying horseshoe from an angry carriage horse.

“…MOMENT.”

“The HEEEAT of the MOMENT…”

“Showed in your EYEEEESEEEEEEEEEEES”

Death was a part of you now. It was an old friend. Tuesdays were your family estate.

Sucked into a jet engine.

Impaled by an outdoor umbrella that went rogue in a strong gust of wind.

Pinned beneath a remote-start activated vehicle with a brake issue.

You had resigned yourself to your fate. You would die 10,000 times (or more—who’s counting?) until the end of the world.

And then you would wake up, and somehow it would be Tuesday again. You found peace in that understanding. 

Attacked by a pissed-off swan that happened to peck your carotid artery. 

Skewered by a taxidermy swordfish.

Eaten by an escaped lion at the zoo. (Not as cute as the movies.)

But since the moment you had the revelation about Peter’s other superpower, you felt like something had shifted. 

Run down by a drunk driver. And a stoned driver. And a texting driver. And an e-bike.

Combustion via a DIY gender-reveal grenade. (It was a boy.)

Blood clot from a hickey. (Thanks, Pete.)

Suddenly, you felt so alive. So fragile. Like the next time you’d die, it would be for good.

And you honestly didn't know what to hope for.

“You gotta stop this,” Peter pleaded under a flat tone. “This has gone far enough.” He stood, stone-faced, in your apartment with his arms crossed as a muffin bounced off one of his shoulders. 

Choked on a muffin.

As soon as it left your hand, you studied him intensely, watching the pastry drop to the floor where it rolled across your kitchen tile.

“Stop,” he begged wearily. Your hand was already in the paper bag of pastries, pulling out another blueberry muffin. 

“Don’t,” he warned with a futile sense of authority. “Don’t do it—”

You tossed the muffin, hitting him in the chin. It fell to the floor just like the others, but you gawked expectantly, as if waiting for some sort of alternate outcome.

“Why are you doing this?” Peter groaned, exasperated. “Why are you throwing things at me? That was a perfectly good muffin.”

“I need to see if it’s working,” you replied, intently focused on your experiment. You kept distance between you, eagerly studying him. 

His amber eyes fixed on you suspiciously.

Choked on Peter. (Not a bad way to go.)

“See if what is working?”

“The tingly thing—”

“What tingly thing?”

“The Spider sense! Your Spider... tingle.”

“Please don’t call it that—”

You threw another muffin at his cheek. 

“Bug. Put down the muffins.”

“It doesn’t work! Your sense isn’t tingling.”

“You—you know that just by throwing muffins?”

“You don’t get it!” you replied. Your wild eyes darted from side to side as you stepped over the muffins in a repetitive pace. “The thing that alerts you to danger is not working, Peter!”

His shoulders nearly met his ears as he shrugged, his eyes suspiciously horrified at your antics. “Maybe it doesn’t work for pastry products?”

You huffed in frustration. “Look. Your Spidey tingly sense is almost like trichobothria, right? The tiny hairs on a spider that detect micro vibrations and shifts in the environment? In your case, maybe they’re not tiny hairs—but something still sends an electric impulse to your nervous system that alerts you to danger. It’s almost practically precognition.”

Peter gazed at you, dumbfounded. “What?”

“Precognition, like you’re psychic—”

“No, I know what 'precognition' means,” Peter rebutted, his head spinning with information. “How do you know so much about this stuff?”

Impaled by the shards of an exploding can of whipped cream.

You deflated as you considered how much you should reveal at this point in the day. “I brushed up on it.”

“Brushed up on what? Neurobiology?”

“Podcasts,” you said, and brushed him off. “Point is, I’ve been so focused on overanalyzing Tuesday, I haven’t even thought that all of this could be because of something that happened Monday. You mentioned something before about yesterday—something about patrol being rough. What was it? What happened yesterday?”

Peter glanced down at the discarded muffins, before looking back up at you. It was clear by the look on his face that he was several paces behind. “Well, I mean... you were there?” 

You blinked a few times. Your brain tripped over the realization that you couldn’t remember Monday.  

It had been so long since you’d be trapped in Tuesdayville, that Monday—and all of the people, places, and plans that used to accompany it—were reduced to a blurry, worn-out photograph in your mind. Recalling what any other day outside of Tuesday was like drenching an oil painting in paint thinner and watching it melt.

Shredded by a woodchipper.

There were neighbors of yours you hadn’t seen in ages. Work colleagues whom you barely remember. You even felt nostalgic for your old boss and his unrealistic deadlines.

(As it turns out, whatever it was that was due at 4:00pm on that first Tuesday didn’t really mean all that much, since your boss, nor any of your co-workers or clients, had even bothered to call and ask about you. To them, you were just absent. Out of sight, out of mind. To you, it had been years since you’d visited your job. You barely remember what it was, or what was so important about it in the first place.)

Anaphylactic shock resulting from 250+ stings after stepping on a Yellowjacket nest.

But back in the present Tuesday, you were pushing for answers. “I meant what happened to you? Tell me your whole schedule. Start at the beginning.”

“Okay, um,” he crossed his arms, shuffling from foot to foot. “Well, I had my 7:00am class, then — well — I was going to class, but there was this guy who had a nail in his tire—”

Burned in a nail salon explosion after a poorly-placed box of bulk acetone dropped on a space heater.

”—so I sorta helped him out with the jack, then I got mud on my pants and it weirded me out—”

Partially decapitated by a drone.

“—and I was debating on whether I should go back home to change because I didn’t want it to look like—”

You waved him off, and drew invisible loops in the air with your finger. “Skip ahead to the patrol parts.”

“Oh, okay—yeah, sure,” Peter nodded along, editing himself. “Um, yeah, so... patrol. Um, I stopped a couple of guys who were stealing catalytic converters.”

You nodded, urging him to go on. “And then...?”

“I swung around a bit. I webbed up a purse snatcher.”

Asphyxiation by a purse strap after it caught in the door of a subway.

“Okay.”

“The old lady who got her purse stolen bought me a mangonada popsicle when I gave it back to her—”

Botulism. 

“Risky, but I’ll let it pass.”

Embalmed alive after an overtired nurse mistakenly mixed up vials and your IV bag was injected with formaldehyde. Poor May was the one who caught the mistake, right as your organs started failing. You convulsed and foamed at the mouth, the sickly-sweet-smelling fluid ripping apart your blood cells.

“And then I put out a dumpster fire over by East 96th.”

Your eyes widened at that, gaping expectantly. “How so?”

He quirked an eyebrow, unsure of your meaning. “Uhm, a dumpster was on fire. And then I helped put it out.”

Crushed by a trash compactor. 

Seconds passed, before you responded, “I need to see this dumpster.” You were shuffling towards the front door, glancing at the microwave clock.

Exploding microwave.

“Wait, really?”

“Shit!” you exclaimed, noting the time. “I’m late!”

“What? Late for what?” Peter called to you, left behind with the discarded muffins.

“Don’t worry about it!” you shouted, rushing out of your apartment. “I’ll catch up!”

The wind whipped fiercely through your hair as you pushed open the roof access door of an office building in Midtown. The building was tall, but not the tallest around by a longshot.

The view from the roof wasn’t breathtaking. The building itself wasn’t fancy or particularly significant, which you think was the point. 

Your eyes flicked to the edge where you spotted the frail girl on the ledge. Her neck was craned downwards, her pale legs dangling off the roof precariously. She propped herself up with her weight on her too-thin arms, like a perched vulture, with her oversized sweater engulfing her torso and swallowing up her thighs. 

Your tragically-pretty Grim Reaper. Right where you’d expected to find her. You sighed heavily, as you stared at the back of her sullen form. The storm door fall closed behind you with a heavy slam.

She flinched at the sound. Perhaps it was the first time she had been stirred from her lonely, listess daze. Her head spun back so fast that it gave her a touch of vertigo. Her long fingers gripped the brick ledge, with white knuckles and chipped, chewed nail polish. 

The slight brush of danger lit up her eyes. It was her survival instinct sputtering briefly, albeit brief.

For a moment you could see the person dormant behind her widened eyes, weighed heavily with dark circles. She gazed at you quietly, her brow furrowed with puzzlement, before sputtering out into apathy. She didn’t recognize you, and she didn’t care to.

“Sorry,” you called out across the distance as her body relaxed, but not from relief. Your voice echoed off the stone and glass towers surrounding you, getting lost in the hum of engines and car horns below. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

The woman who had killed you more times than you could count stared at you indifferently. You took a step towards her.

“Claire, right?” you asked, though you knew the answer. 

Claire Rivers, from Long Island. Date of birth: September 5th. Age 23. Had her name legally changed after high school from Clear to Claire because it was constantly misspelled and mispronounced, and met with a reflexive annoyance when she’d try to correct anyone. It was a nuisance. A constant reminder of how little she was regarded. 

Date of death—today. Perhaps.

Hearing her name pronounced correctly got Claire’s attention. It always did. 

“You probably don’t remember me,” you waved your hand off with a light chuckle. “We took Theater Arts together at NYU last Spring,” you lied. You smiled sheepishly with your hands buried in your coat. 

Several seconds passed, as Claire searched your face for some sort of recognition. “Oh,” she said, her voice barely above a squeak. “I... I’m sorry, I don’t — I didn’t recognize you.”

“S’okay.” Your voice is warm. Endearing. “I don’t think we were ever scene partners the whole time we were there. Which is crazy, right?” 

No, it wasn’t crazy, because of course you weren’t. You never went to NYU. You had never crossed paths with this woman until that first Tuesday, when she held a box cutter to your throat in some bizarre futile hostage situation, and ended up getting you both shot to death. 

That felt like years ago, you pondered. It had been.

“Sorry,” Claire murmured, and now it sounded like she was talking to herself. “I’m not in school anymore.” 

A dark shadow crossed her expression. It was the same darkness you’d spotted in her reflection in the glass door of the beverages case. The same one she wore when she tackled you onto the tracks of the L train right before you were both crushed beneath it. The same hollow expression—not just hollow, but hallow; haunted, like a graveyard—as she dragged you over the railing of the 59th Street Bridge, sending you both plummeting 350 feet into the East River below.

These are hazards of being near her or trying to find her. They were risks associated with trying to solve her mysteries. 

Ultimately meaningless, you’d decided. Somewhere in your first hundred Tuesdays, you were obsessed with her, but your interest had waned as you realized that her fate made no difference in yours. Whether she lived or died today, you would inevitably wake up in the same place. 

Her death was meaningless. As meaningless as yours.

One Tuesday afternoon you’d stumbled upon her charred body at a corner gas station. The fire department was wrapping up and the coroner was getting ready to move the remains. Witnesses said a woman walked up to an unattended SUV being refueled pulled out a lighter. 

“How stupid,” they remarked. “How insane.” “Of all the ways to die, how fucked up is that?” they said.

Drowned in a septic tank. 

Drowned in a truck of wet cement. 

Drowned in a vat of molasses. 

Drowned in the “Friends fountain” in Central Park. You were surprised to later learn that the cast of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. never even filmed there.

You started to wonder if Claire's life was also meaningless. Like yours.

You followed her sometimes, watching from afar. 

You’d try to get Peter to save her, and he would. But you noticed that it never changed anything about her fate. She’d find a way to make the evening news, one way or another. 

If you happened to survive long enough to catch it. 

Nothing ever more than a chyron though. One barely-visible, tiny sentence that scrolls across the screen and disappears into the void. Perhaps the only obituary she would ever receive.

You had a theory about why she chose you in the first place. It never about killing you, you thought. She wasn’t the killing type. It was attempted suicide by cop. 

Even on other occasions where she caused your death, she wouldn’t reach for you until the last second. Like she panicked. Suddenly realized she didn’t want to die alone. 

Death is a lonely thing, you lament. 

Struck by a stray piece of gravel that had been tossed out of a passing lawnmower.

You understood that. Reaching out in the darkness for a spark of light. Hoping to grasp the will to live, but snuffing the light out in the process. 

Crushed by a Starbucks sign. (Pumpkin Spice is back... with a vengeance.)

“I’m sorry,” Claire repeated, and neither of you knew why. She turned her face away from yours, lost in her own world again. “M’sorry, but I kinda want to be alone right now.”

“I figured that,” you replied, gently. “I saw you come up here by yourself. I just... wanted to—”

“—To talk me out of it?” Claire uttered with bitterness on her tongue. She didn’t bother to face you.

You shifted your weight to your other foot, glancing down at the asphalt.  “I’m also down to just... listen?” You let the question hang in the air unpresumptiously. 

She scoffed, but it sounded more like her heart shattering. You saw the back of her head, shaking indignantly, but you pictured her jaw set firmly in place. “There’s nothing to talk about. You don’t know me,” she declared, voice firm. When she turned her head towards you, you saw fury in her gaze. “You have no right to judge me.”

“I’m not judging.” 

“You think I’d feel regret?” she spat. She squirmed like you were viewing her through a microscope.

That was a valid question. You mused on it for a moment. 

“Possibly,” you replied, thinking back to that last flash of light. Of self-preservation. You’d seen it in the urgency of her eyes, right before the end. 

It wasn’t the look of acceptance. It was a mix of panic and penitence. That alone was enough to baffle you.

“Probably,” you reiterated, more confident in your assessment. You strolled nearer, keeping your path to a broad arc. It eased the strain on her neck and kept you at a safe distance. “I’d describe it more like shame. This gross, heavy, selfish ick in your stomach. Kinda feels like eating White Castle, but not even when it’s fresh, y’know? Tepid, at best.”

“I don’t care if you think I’m selfish,” she contested with an icy tone. You knew that underneath the ice, she was just tired. “I don’t care what anyone thinks,” she explained, but it lacked any real confidence. “If it breaks my parents’ hearts, I honestly don’t care.”

You stopped at the edge, just shy of her reach. 

“It won’t just break your parents’ hearts,” you responded, matter-of-factly. “It’ll break your parents.”

The heavy statement sat between you, and she pursed her lips. She tried to steel her face, but the somberness of her eyes gave her away.

“Not just them,” you added. “The people that loved you—yeah, sure. It’ll mess them up. But also the people that didn’t know you well enough.” You explained contemplatively, “There’s gonna be a little hole now that they can’t ever fill. Stuff they wanted to say to you. Things that could’ve made both of your lives better, y’know? If only they had more time.”  

Saying it, you feel a sharp pain in your heart. Your lips form a tight line as you look out at the buildings. 

After a few moments, you continued. 

“There’s the people that you never knew,” you explained, glancing down over the edge. “The guy who has to spray your blood off the sidewalk. His name is Carlos. That’s gonna stay with him forever.” You swallow bitterly, meeting her grim gaze. “And it’s not like it’s even his first time cleaning up something like that. His brother died last month.” Softly, you ask her, “Did you know that?”

Claire shook her head, forehead creased with concern.

“There’s a cop named Frank that’s gonna have to fish out your ID and call your family,” you recounted, reflecting on the vicious cycle of life and death that you’ve been audience to.

“There’s a woman who works at the morgue in the hospital, her name is Bhavisha. She’s gonna ask them to bring down a sample of your hair so she can test the DNA. She wants to be sure. Before she tells your mom that it’s really you. Before she has to hear that sound that people always make. And then she’s going to hand your mom a brochure, and have to talk about ‘options’ for what to do with the rest of you.”

Despite her earlier proclamations, you hear Claire’s breath hitch in her throat. You’re a statue, as you look down at the traffic of the city below. You’re a stone lion, or a chrome eagle, or some other asshole on a horse that has no business being immortalized, having spent years at this lonely vantage point. Watching silently. Bearing witness to the secret, collective pain of these streets.

“Bhavisha’s going to cry about it in her car on the way home. Then she’s gonna have a big glass of wine and a Xanax and not talk about it with her family because she doesn’t want to upset them. She doesn’t think she has anything in common with them anymore. Or with anyone.”

Silent tears ran down Claire’s face. Her pale expression was tinted with red splotches.

You turn to speak directly to her. “Everybody out here—we all feel so alone sometimes. But we’re not in a bubble. Even if it feels that way. Everything is connected. Everybody.”

If you had to explain to someone why you were on that rooftop with Claire, that’s the reason you’d give. 

You take a step towards her, then carefully sit on the ledge beside her. 

“The pain that one person feels,” you say, “it keeps going around. It spreads.” You add with a hopeful voice, “But I think the good feelings can spread too.” Your voice is heavy, but warm, and void of judgment, just as you promised. 

Claire’s chest heaves, sobs threatening to break free. “How do you know?” Her lip quivers. It wasn’t scornful the way she said it. She begged for the answer. She is begging. “How do you know any of this means anything?”

Your lip curls into a smirk, but not unkindly. 

You reply, “You know, I was obsessed with my life meaning something. I used to work myself to the bone just to feel important. But to certain people, like—it sounds weird to say, but I wanted to be important to important people. I wanted to make the people that loved me proud. And I was always afraid that I would die before I got to do something great, y’know?” 

You sigh, musing over her question and the foolish absurdity of the person you used to be on Monday. 

“I felt like I was waiting for that time when I had it together. I’d own my own place. Maybe even a car—a nice one. I wouldn’t have to worry about paying my credit card bills. I’d be married and have a couple of kids. We’d travel all the time. To Europe... and Fiji, and New Zealand, and...” You crack a slight grin, releasing a light laugh, “Maybe even stay at the fancy places at Disney World. For a whole week.”

Your smile fades. Claire watches you intently. “I was waiting,” you add. “Waiting for when I’d be happy.”

You’re quiet for several nostalgic seconds, holding a moment of silence for the You of Monday. 

“I don’t know what it means to be ‘great’ or ‘important’ anymore,” you admit. “Or if anything means anything.” 

You stare down at your hands, thoughtful in your words. A grin pulled at your lips. “But the weird thing is—I think that’s what’s special, y’know? Gives each day it’s meaning” You look back at her, simmering with intrigue and the excitement of the unknown. “Life is crazy, and confusing, and terrifying, and exciting. It’s all those things. Every day is important. Don’t you want to see how it ends?”

You said it like you were talking about the last chapter of an adventure novel. With all the different ways your Tuesdays had gone, they began to feel like adventures, even if they’d get cut short. 

Your eyes sparkled with admiration. With envy. Claire could have a Wednesday. And a Thursday. And a Friday.

God, The Cure really had it right—Friday was worthy of love. How you missed the exhilarion of Friday afternoons. 

And the small burst of vigor that would come with waking up on Saturday mornings— sometimes blending perfectly with the right concoction of determination to do that thing that you’ve been putting off (whatever it is). Or those Saturdays where you could just sleep in because maybe you don’t have that energy and it’s perfectly acceptable to stay in the cocoon of bedsheets for as long as you need to. 

Sundays can be fundays, for sure. But they can also be slow days, grounding and reflective. Serene. Religious or not, they remain holy in that sense. It’s a day for meditation and peace. Time washes your troubles and sins away like some divine sacrament. The kind of thing that makes you want to hold a cup of tea and stare at a picture of a lake. Your spirit is cleansed and reborn with a little bit of hope as the week begins anew. 

Mondays get a bad rap, you suppose. But they are no less precious. Especially if it was your last one.

Claire was on the precipice of a canyon of treasure, you knew it in your heart. A gorge filled with the universe’s most precious commodity—not a fragment of which could be purchased. She was just too confused, too tired, too weary, to see it. 

You hold another moment of silence for the tragedy of it. Eyes gentle and grieving, you slowly reach out and take her hand in yours.

She glances down at your hand, your fingers intertwining with hers. She feels their warmth. The warmth of the light she was trying so hard to find. 

And something fractures. Her face crumples. Sobs overtake her. A river of agony floods out. She shudders from the current. Cries and cries. Leans onto your shoulder and cried even more. 

You’re with her, holding her hand in the now, as she brokenly weeps. 

Some days you saved her. 

Some days you didn’t. 

The choice was always hers, and truthfully—you had no idea how long it would stick. 

You never lived to see Wednesday, nor did you know if she did either. 

It didn’t make the conversation any less important. It didn’t make it any less meaningful. 

You sought her out, day after day, and let her cry into your shoulder while she made her private decision.

Today feels hopeful, you think. You look over at her as she wipes her red, bleary eyes. 

There’s that light again. That tiny spark. 

“You keep doing stuff like this,” Claire sniffed, rubbing tear tracks that streaked her face, “you might just get a statue built after you or something.”

She made a joke this time. Good.

You cracked a smile and chuckled beneath your breath. “Nah. That’s my boyfriend’s gig,” you replied, matching levity. “I’m too chicken for big heroics. Not usually big on courage, either.”

Claire smiled warmly, eyes brimming with gratitude. “Maybe a little bit is all you need.”

Continue to Part 6

A/N- ok I really swear we’re nearing the end. My goal is to have this done by 10/15. Whew what a ride.

Look between the fluffy eye bleach gifs for tw content summary below.

Spoilery description of TW content:

Several deaths are briefly referenced, some bizarre and some common (driving under the influence, etc).

Scene where Reader locates the “Grim Reaper” aka Claire, who is a depressed young woman preparing to jump from the roof of a building. We learn that Reader has come to know Claire due to the many times she’s tried to intervene in her different su*cide plots, in repeated attempts to talk her out of killing herself. Reader confronts Claire about how her death would impact those around her, with gruesome details. On this occasion, we believe that Claire will ultimately choose to live, but her fate is left open-ended, as we are told that it doesn’t always end the same.

If this chapter were a person, would you swipe right? Take 3 seconds and tell me what you think with a reblog or comment!

Don’t forget—fanfic writers spend so many hours to gift you with their stories and provide a tiny escape for your weary mind.

The best “thank you” is a few words of encouragement!

Thank YOU for supporting fandom writers.

[jisungsmochi]

nct dream reaction to you displaying affection infront of the other members

finally back with another reaction! i tried my best to suit each scenario with the member,, i hope you enjoy reading it! 

mark:

i don’t think he would mind

but he’d just be surprised

so when you hug him and pepper him with kisses (after not having seen him in weeks) infront of the dreamies

(you didn’t know they were all watching)

mark’s face washed completely pink

“why are you being weird? kiss me back” you whine, still not realising the others were there

until haechan let out a mischievous chuckle

“oh shit” both you and mark muttered

you quickly pulled away from mark, trying your best to ignore what had just occurred

but that wasn’t easy,, haechan was a menace

the rest of the night was filled with light teasing

“markie! come kiss me” haechan would exaggerate pouted lips

you and mark tried to ignore it, simply opting for mark’s arm to be slung around you as you sat next to him

once you were both able to get some alone time

mark was all over you,, literally,, would not get off you

“i’m sorry about before, here is your kiss now!” he would giggle as he lightly pecked your lips

it was nice to have him in your arms again

renjun:

doesn’t seem like the one to initiate affection in general, unless you are both alone

the dreamies invited you over for lunch, in which you kindly accepted

you sat next to renjun at the table, munching on the delicious food they had set out

everything was going great, the atmosphere was up and everyone was having a great time

you noticed that renjun had some sauce (HOT SAUCE) on the side of his mouth

you quickly pulled his face to meet yours, ignoring the looks of the other boys

“ah let me clean you up” you mumbled to yourself, wiping off the sauce with your napkin before leaning in to peck his lips out of habit

it was a normal thing to do between you and renjun

he would have done the same to you

but definitely NOT infront of the members

you immediately widened your eyes after the kiss, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the table and stay there for the rest of the day

“i want to make a joke but i don’t want renjun to kill me” jeno chimed in

renjun glared at all of them, he knew how flustered you were

so he tried to change the subject, calming you down by gently resting his hand on your thigh

he gave it a small squeeze before leaning over to whisper to you “thankyou for keeping our little ritual, babe. i will make it up to you when we’re alone”

jeno:

it wouldn’t be unusual for the members to see jeno pecking your cheeks or having his arm around your waist

but it was unusual when they saw you quite literally attack jeno with cuddles and kisses when you thought no one else was at the dorms

before jeno could even give you a heads up, you engulfed him in a warm hug, kissing his forehead repeatedly

“i love youuuu” *kiss* “more than anything!” *kiss*

jeno was enjoying it way too much to even notice the other members standing to the side

renjun let out a loud cough, signalling the group’s presence

you literally froze in your place, hiding your face in your boyfriend’s chest

“oh hey guys, care to join us?” jeno snickered, knowing it was only making you more embarrassed

renjun and haechan both pretended to vomit

jaemin took a step towards you guys, mark having to stop him

“please just keep the pda to a level 1 when we’re here, we don’t need to know what happens during lovey dovey time” mark sighed as the rest of the boys joined you on the couch

you still had your head hidden in jeno’s chest, not wanting to face them

jeno only chuckled softly, pulling you to his side, stroking your hair as the boys changed the subject completely, now setting up for a competitive game of mario kart

“you’re so cute, i love you” jeno whispered so the other’s couldn’t hear

“i love you too” you muttered, ears heating up

haechan:

he messaged you that he had just returned from schedules, asking you to keep him company for the night as he wound down from his long day

you didn’t think much of it, rushing to his room once you had arrived

you practically jumped into his bed, giving him smooches left, right and centre

he was basking in all the glory of having you with him

but when chenle and jisung walk into the room, ready to ask haechan to play some games with them

they didn’t expect to see you on top of him

you loudly screeched once you heard them knock on the door

hitting your head on haechan’s headboard

the two boys scurried off, probably already telling jaemin and jeno what they had just witnessed

“oh god i can never show my face here again! those two twats are gonna make it seem like we were...gonna do it!” you cry dramatically

“wait so we aren’t gonna do it?” your boyfriend tried his best to light up the mood

earning a loud slap from you to his shoulder

you weren’t the type to initiate affection in general, so haechan couldn’t help but enjoy how flustered you were

eventually you both forgot about it, cuddling as you caught up on eachother’s days

there was another series of knocks at the door, this time jaemin and jeno entering

“uh y/n, we know you miss haechan a lot these days, but can you please lock the door if you’re gonna have se-“

“WE WEREN’T DOING ANYTHING!” you groan in frustration, hiding your face with a pillow

haechan just sat and giggled, way too entertained with the entire situation

he couldn’t have felt more proud

so this is what you get for showing affection...

jaemin:

adores you so much, even more when you initiate affection

but never pressures you to kiss / hug him or anything, he just lets you do it when you please

you were hanging out with the 00 line, deciding to go on a walk to the pier and have ice cream

all was going well, jaemin held your hand tightly as always

the others trailing behind you both, making comments like:

“we get ittttt, you two are the cutest couple ever, dont need to rub it in!”

“atleast they haven’t kissed yet!”

you smirked to yourself, knowing they were only teasing

jaemin pulled you closer to him, telling you to ignore them

you shook your head, an idea coming to mind

you show your boyfriend a mischievous smile, pulling his face closer to yours as you both stop in the middle of the walkway

“let’s give them a show” you didn’t give jaemin enough time to react before you pressed your lips against his

jaemin’s hands immediately attached to your waist, pulling you into him as he smirked into the kiss

he was just as shocked as the rest but who was he to deny a kiss from you?

he didn’t want to admit it but he was enjoying this way too much

haechan was ready to leave right then and there

renjun just shook his head, wanting nothing more than for you two to stop making out in public

jeno couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight  

you finally pull away from jaemin, sending the boys a shy smile before taking jaemin’s hand and skipping off with him

jaemin couldn’t help but lick his lips after, wanting to kiss you once more

“they are gross, but somehow it’s endearing” jeno shrugged, leading the two grossed out boys to the ice cream parlour

chenle:

i feel like he enjoys affection, but isn’t usually the one to initiate it himself

you’d both be sitting with the other members, playing board games or something

you would lean closer to him, rubbing your shoulders together

or gently pushing loose strands of hair from his face

he enjoyed small touches like that, but when you decide that you want a kiss from him, he freezes

“please, just one?” you whispered, completely ignoring the game at this point

he felt his ears heat up, feeling the eyes of his members on him now

he was having an internal debate 

of course he wanted to kiss you, but he was always the one who would tease his members if they did anything like this 

karma was going to get him real good

“r-right now?” you nod eagerly

he nodded back, leaning closer to you as you finally pressed your lips on his

a choir of moans and groans from the other members erupted

chenle immediately pulled away, feeling slightly embarrassed but also enjoying the feeling of kissing you

he started getting cocky when the other members began expressing their disgust

“you guys are just jealous that i’m getting kissed and you’re not” he huffs

“you wish! you two are disgustingly adorable” jisung rolls his eyes, earning laughter from everyone at the table

the board game resumed, jisung still having a distasteful look on his face

“i hope i didn’t embarrass you too much” you mumble to your boyfriend

“i don’t get embarrassed, love” he cheekily grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you rolled the die for your turn

jisung:

my shy baby boy

pls he would combust the first time you ever held hands

you knew he felt uncomfortable at times with pda so you refrained from doing too much infront of others

but one day, you were just feeling extra cuddly and loving

and it happened to be the day of the weekly movie night with the members

you sat to jisung, playing with his hands gently as you tuned into the movie

you started to feel yourself drift off to sleep, slowly leaning your head into his shoulder

jisung would immediately freeze up, hoping the others wouldn’t notice

but they did

you subconsciously brought your arm to wrap around his torso, snuggling into his side

jisung’s face was as red as a tomato at this point, he didn’t want to push you off but he also felt the stares of the six other boys on him

“psstt, y/n” jisung whispered to you, gently stroking your hair as you felt your eyes flutter open

you quickly pulled away from jisung, after making eye contact with the rest of the group

“jisung, why did you wake them up? they looked so peaceful!” chenle teased, making jisung even more flustered than he already was

“i’m sorry, sung. it won’t happen again” you felt bad (kind of) since you knew how he didn’t want to be teased

jisung just shook his head, deciding to pull your head back to rest of his shoulder, and your arm to wrap around him once again

it took you by surprise to say the least 

“don’t stress, it’s about time we cuddle like this” he placed a soft kiss to your forehead, smiling softly while ignoring the looks from his members

truth was, they all found it endearing how soft jisung got with you

their little baby was finally growing up!

jisung would feel proud of himself (and you) for finally displaying affection openly

it solidified that your relationship was the real deal!

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Smile For Me, Sweetcheeks ~ Ghostface x Fem!Reader

I've thought of this for a while, and it's gonna be

F U N

---

Y/N opened her eyes groggily, finding herself on the grassy ground - As she lifted her head to scan her surroundings, she realised she was in some strange, dark place that resembled some weird park with tall trees, yet had random small buildings here and there...It almost seemed like a place to play hide and seek, was her first thought.

Next to her, 3 other people were getting up, looking extremely frightened, as they bolted the hell out of that spot, going in different directions.

But Y/N didn't, and instead, she walked around aimlessly, until she spotted someone dressed in all black, with a weird ghost-like mask, peeking from behind an old car, almost timidly, only to see him wave at her.

Grinning at him, thinking she finally met someone friendly around this place, she extended her arm up in the sky, waving excitedly, which made the man make his way to her.

"Hi! I'm Y/N! It's great finally seeing someone nice around here. The 3 other guys just yelled in my face and ran away. How rude, right?!" she sighed, crossing her arms with a pout, before going back to her friendly smile, extending her hand to shake his. "Woaw, those guys are jerks. Call me Ghostface, darling." he said in an amused, yet somehow hoarse voice. "Uhhh, Ghostface, how cool! You must be a horror movie fan, then? So am I! ...Hmm...Actually, do you have any idea how we got here? I think I need some lecithin, my memory is failing me." she scratched the back of her head sheepishly, only for him to chuckle. "Welp, there's 4 survivors and a killer. All you gotta do is either repair 5 generators and find the exit...Or find the hatch and escape. Basically, don't die, I guess. Fun, huh?" the guy explained, putting his arm around her shoulder, guiding her to who knows where. "...What the hell is this, the Hunger Games?" she looked up at him with a weird look on her face. "Haha, that would be fun! Alas, nothing like that. Ah, look at this, a gen! Here I'll show you how to repair it. You have to tinker with these parts, and then merge these together...You get the cables in the respective coloured sockets...Et voila! Haha, look at it! Fireworks! What a reward!" Ghostface clapped and cheered at the fireworks the generator made, laughing at the startled look on the girl's face, as she clearly didn't expect something like that to happen. "Uh...Honestly, this is insane. Can't we just, like...Go home? I don't think I'm up for dying, even if someone paid me to go through with this silly game." she sighed, crouching down to the next generator, awkwardly trying to repair it, but she was much slower and clumsier compared to him, and it even exploded in her face, making her yelp and fall down. "Dude! Not cool! This gen is working against me!" "Shoulda seen the face you made, toots! Haha, so funny! You're very entertaining, girl. Here, lemme help ya out." he said as he got on the other side of the of the gen and helped repaired it. "You're a real pro at this, man. Have you been playing this for long? Did they at least give you a worthy amount of money for the trouble you're going through? I mean, I'm sure you won very often...Or maybe you're like...The tutorial teacher or something? Is that why you look eccentric compared to those lame-os?" she was asking so many question, but boy, was she so off that it amused the killer so much! He now perfectly understood the wolf who dressed as a sheep, it was too much fun! She was so blindingly trusting, he could mess with her, and more, with the survivors at his heart's content! "Yeah, I win quite often, but they don't pay me! The guy is kinda blackmailing us to play his game, but it's fun when you get used to it." he explained, only to have two other survivors go past them - Her and Ghostface waved at them merrily, but they just shrieked and ran the hell away from there. "...Do I look that scary?" she muttered, looking at the man next to her with a confused expression. "Nahhh, you're a cutiepie. Those guys are just jerks." he petted her hair, beginning to walk again, only to find some really nasty, rusty hooks. "U-Uhm...Gh-Ghostface...? What are these for...?" she stuttered, frowning as she clinged on his arm instinctively. "I think you already know, toots. Careful with those, killers LOVE to impale their victims on these things. It's like a sacrifice for the big guy who's keeping us here." he chuckled as he watched the girl tremble like a little lamb seeing the knife approaching her neck. "...Can we go away from here, please? M-Maybe we can look for the...Uhm...Hatch, you called it?" she muttered, pulling him away from there. "Yeah. It's like a trap in the ground that leads to safety. It only appears when there's only 2 gens left. Felt that shockwave? It meant that the Hatch just appeared. Ah, sorry baby-cakes, I gotta run, but I'll see you around before the match ends, okay?" he was grinning under his mask, knowing that he has to kill the other 3 to make sure the Entity doesn't punish

either of them for some annoying reason...And oh, the shock and horror on her face will be fun~. "N-No...! Please don't go! This place is huge and scary, I'll get lost without you! And who knows what would happen if the Killer finds me? I don't wanna end up...Th-There...!" awww, that cute, little, frightened pout on her face, how lovely~! If only she knew... "Don't worry, cutie, is'yo' first game, the Killer ain't gonna mess with ya, I promise. And if he does, Imma make sure he regrets it. I'm sort of a boss here, you see." he put cupped both his gloved hands on her face, pinching them a bit too hard, just to hear her yelp one more time - And clearly, she didn't disappoint, as her eyes even watered a tiny bit. What a cute little lamb... "...If you're sure, then...Okay. I trust you." she muttered, turning away as she started walking away, only for her to look back at him and yell "Make sure you stay safe too, okay?! We have to escape this place together!" He raised his arm and waved dismissively, barely able to keep himself from laughing, as he started running and stalking the annoying survivors who actually thought they'd have such an easy game!

No, no, clearly not with him!

First, he slashed one of the survivors and put him on a hook, then mori'ed another and took a really cool selfie with their bloody face, and the last one he just messed around with, before repeatedly stabbing his back and throwing him in a corner, just where the Hatch was.

Those idiots thought they could escape him.

Think again.

He wasn't that idiot 'Legion', or that lame ass Amanda. Four lame thugs who can't do a simple job properly, or Jigsaw's useless lackey. Keh.

And at least he was fun, unlike Boring Michael! I mean, look at this masterpiece he made, it's a perfect piece of art! He even wrote Y/N's name on the wall in front of the hatch, so she could see and appreciate his work!

A loud noise that resounded through the place made him realise that, as he was having his fun playing with the obsolete Survivors, his cute little Y/N had her fun repairing generators, meaning that the exits could be activated, if he wasn't careful.

He had to find her quick.

Not that it was difficult for the Master of Stalking, especially since she was so clueless that she didn't even crouch to hide, or at least try to hide in lockers.

There she was...! Look at her, watching everything like a frightened meerkat! Aww, how he wanted to boop that cute nose of hers~! Maybe he could even let some blood paint her nose, and make fun of her, calling her Rudolph!

Ahh, Ghostface, you're so funny!

Yeah, Ghostface, I KNOW, right?!

"Yo, Y/N, over here! I found the hatch! Come on!" he waved his arms up in the air, yelling for her, and the look of sparkling glee on her face as soon as she saw him...Wasn't she such an adorable dummy~? "Ghostface, you're okay! I got so worried when I didn't see you in so long! I heard screams, and I thought something happened to you! I got so scared that I ran away and tried to do the last generators...And then a loud noise almost deafened me, and I had no idea what to do." she gesticulated rapidly, making him chuckle in amusement. Of course, he was worried for nothing. She wouldn't realise what she'd have to do, even if it bit her leg. Hmm, actually...~ "Nahhhh, I'm cool, haven't see the killer. Here, take the key, it will unlock the hatch. Less'goooo~!" he put his arm around her shoulder, guiding her casually where the hatch was, making sure she didn't see his work of art yet. "Oh, so this is the Hatch, huh? It looks scary. Are you sure this isn't some ladder that leads straight to hell or something? It looks...Shady." she muttered, looking at the dark abyss down below. "Don't worry, chickadee, ain't that long of a ride down. It's like a bunker filled with survivors, you'll be okay. They'll tell you what to do from then on. If you're scared, take this flashlight. See? You can see the bottom of the ladder. You'll be okay." he chuckled, weaving the flashlight around. "Wait...You're not coming down with me?" she gasped, her eyes carefully searching for the truth in his...Covered face. "I'd go down on you any day, sugar, but maybe next time we get to play around." he laughed crudely watching her frowning, flustering face. "H-Hey, don't be a jerk! I'm just worried about you!" she muttered, looking away, hoping her hair would cover her blushing face. "Hahaha, you're so fun to tease, Y/N. Only one person can go through the hatch. But s'all cool, I just gotta open up the door, since you did a great job with the gens. We'll see each other later, I can promise you that. Can't get rid of me that easily." he sniggered under his mask, waiting in anticipation until the girl realises his true nature. "Mhh...Alright...If you're so sure..." she muttered, shakily stepping down a few steps, only to be stopped by the man who took out a camera. "Wanna take a selfie before we finish this? Y'know, your first game, and a victory nonetheless...Come on, Smile for me, Sweetcheeks~!" he got on his knees, raising his mask a bit, before gluing himself to her body, one of his arms extending with the camera, while with the other he grabbed her face, kissing her cheek, making sure he guides her eyesight to his masterpiece, and as soon as he heard her gasp, he took the photo.

It was worth more than all the money in the world.

"Y-You...? You were the killer...?!" awww, look at her tremble! Her eyes were glistering with tears, and her plump, rosy bottom lip was quivering in betrayal. "You're too cute for this world, Y/N." he harshly put his mask down, before showing the girl the selfie he took as he mori'ed one of the survivors, and waved her goodbye with his knife, as she quickly descended down the ladder, soft whimpers echoing through the place.

"Till we see each other again, sweet cheeks~." the Killer rose to his feet, slamming down the hatch with his boot and wiping the blood from his knife with his latex glove, before laughing loudly at the endearing experience he just had.

If THAT was the reaction she had when seeing his little gift for her, imagine her cute faces when he'd actually go down on her, as he promised~.

[idvlover]

Mike and Norton w/ an s/o who really digs horror? esp movies ! :0c

I hope these are good. I don't watch/play much horror 😅

Mike and Norton with an s/o who loves horror:

Mike:

Not exactly a fan of horror, but he'll watch them as long as someone watches it with him

He acts all brave at first. Ends up holding onto his s/o as soon as something creepy starts

It's funny and cute, he'll be hugging his s/o close like a teddy bear. S/o just rubs his arm with their hand to make the movie seem less scary

Would be the type to point out the idiot in the movie

"Why would they go somewhere alONE??? Like do you wanna die???"

"Didn't you come to a creepy manor, only to be trapped in a never ending death game?"

"LISTEN-"

But he does enjoy watching them with his s/o. If they don't respond much to the scary scenes he'll be a little shocked

Let him watch IT and he'll compare the clown to smiley. He said: "Oh my God I didn't know Smiley is the star of the cast."

He now compares Smiley to IT just to piss the hunter off

He gets chaired a lot doing so, but it gives the team a three-man win

Mike does not want to sleep alone after watching a horror movie. He will drag s/o to bed with him

S/o can't even get out of bed to go get a drink once he's asleep

They find it cute until they're thirsty for a drink

As for games

He likes watching his s/o play them, for some reason he likes the games more. But his reactions to the person he's playing as is hilarious

"I run this house now"

*door shuts*

"Never mind the ghost does"

Would do something that would piss off any creatures you're supposed to fight in the game. Such as trying to boop undead animals

He will cry if anything happens to an animal companion in the horror game (I do too)

Would touch something and freak out when it does something

S/o is just watching this whole thing trying not to laugh. Trying to direct him on where needs to go.

They end up snorting each time he compares something to someone he doesn't like

They will also have to pull him from the game as well if the story is interesting

If his s/o is playing a game in bed. He'll lay his head on their chest and watch

He won't fall asleep until s/o puts the game down. Which sometimes ends with him pouting when they're done playing

Norton:

He doesn't get scared as easily as Mike. But he uses this as an excuse to hold his s/o close to him

But he doesn't want to watch anything that involves abandoned mines or anything, those would make him really uncomfortable and make the movie not enjoyable for him

He's the type to fall asleep during a horror movie by accident

Would laugh at certain characters idiot ideas

Somehow always predicts which character will die

"I bet they gonna die next"

"How did you know???"

"Wait, I'm right??"

Now if s/o is the one to get scared during a horror movie. He's being all smug, and taking this opportunity to be cheesy and say things like: "don't worry s/o, I'll protect ya :)"

"Stfu you smug bastard"

As for games

He gets really into a playing the games

He's also funny as well. Especially if you let him play RE8

"If you see a dead horse being dragged away. Maybe that's a sign to leave because what the fuck is big enough to drag a horse?"

Somehow does great solving puzzles. Even s/o is amazed

Will cuss out anything that chases him and insult it. Tells something to kiss his ass only to end up shouting shit repeatedly because the thing actually came for him

He also gets attached to the animal companion. He will fight God if anything happens to it

When he does get scared movie or game. He'll wrap his arms around his s/o and stare intensely at the screen, he'll even jump a little bit

S/o will take this chance to tease on him a little bit

He'll deny it, but s/o knows

"You got scared!"

"Did not."

"Sure, Nort-Nort."

"Hush"

If his s/o plays the game in bed, he'll watch until he falls asleep. S/o tries to keep their voice down for him. But that doesn't bother him, he likes it when the silence is being filled

[itscominghome]

With mase please : You both watch movies late at night, the silence around you, he whispers quietly in your ear and moves your hair out of you face , and then you fall asleep in his arm and he care you to bed

Summary: You and Mason have a movie night every Saturday and this week you watch a horror film. When you get scared, Mason whispers sweet nothings into your ear.

Notes: Requests are open! x

Warnings: Talks about the plot of 'Hush', mentions of blood, mentions of stabbings,

I'm Right Here - Mason Mount

"So, what's it gonna be tonight Mase?" I ask, settling on the sofa and covering myself with my duvet in the corner of the sofa.

"Well, we agreed it was going to be horror week," I sigh at this, not at all ready to be scared out of my skin. But, I knew how much Mason liked horror and it would make a change from me making all the decisions every week. The familiar sound of Netflix opening rings out through the room, and I'm nervously waiting for the chosen film to be displayed on screen.

"Hush?" I ask, vaguely remembering the name.

"Yeah, it's about a woman, who is deaf, mute and lives in the woods. From there you can kinda guess the plotline,"

"Yup, pretty predictable," I say with a gulp. Even being able to guess what is going to happen doesn't make watching it any less terrifying.

"Are you sure you're okay? I mean, I know you don't really like horror films?"

"I'll be fine, you just might end up with me clinging to you like a koala bear all night,"

"I'm down for that," Mason chuckles, leaning over to pick the massive popcorn bucket over to the couch, and inching closer to me as he gets himself comfy under the duvet.

The film starts off pretty tame, just two friends talking about the main character, Maddie's, new book. But it soon takes a dark turn. With the inability to hear, Maddie doesn't realise that her friend is frantically banging on the door in need of help. All of a sudden a masked figure comes up behind her, ragging a crossbow arrow out of her back and repeatedly stabbing her with it.

"Ew, ew, ew, Mason that's horrible. Mase, I really don't like that," I whine, nuzzling my face into his chest so that I don't have to watch what is happening on the screen.

"Baby, it's over. you can look again," But the masked figure is still on the screen, tapping the glass rather creepily, until he realises that she can't hear him.

"No, no, no. Oh my God, look up!" I shout at the TV. Later on in the film, Maddie is sent a photo by her own phone. When she opens the notification she sees photos of herself that have been taken of her.

"I really don't like this, Mase. Why do you enjoy this?"

"Baby, it's fine, it's just a film. I wouldn't let this happen to you, ever. You know I'd protect you from anything like this. Hell, you know I'd die to protect you," Mason comforts, whispering in my ear, running his fingers through my hair and kissing the top of my head. I look up at him and smile, my eyes filled with love for the boy who's lap I'm now laying on.

Maddie walks slowly over to the front door, which is ajar and upon spotting the masked figure she rushes to shut the door, just as he rushes towards it in an attempt to attack her. I scream loudly and move back into my position of huddling up against Mason's chest.

"Oh, baby... Maybe we should turn this off? You won't sleep tonight otherwise,"

"No, no. It's alright. I always choose the film, I'm not bailing now that you've chosen one."

As the film progresses, I slowly sink down further into Mason's lap, face still covered by his chest.

"I'm right here, baby," he whispers in my ear, "I promise I won't let anyone hurt you," I look up at him, face softening as he moves a piece of hair from in front of my face to behind my ear.

"Thanks," I whisper, almost inaudibly as he replies with a gentle kiss to the tip of my nose. Within another half an hour, I can feel myself drifting off to sleep and Mason clearly notices too.

"Up to bed for you then, baby," he whispers, moving from underneath and picking me up. He carries me upstairs to our shared bedroom bridal style before settling my down on the bed and gently tucking me in. He kisses my forehead lightly before clambering over and getting into bed himself.

"But what about your film?" I ask sleepily.

"We can always watch it another time, or not at all. Just get some sleep Y/n/n, you look exhausted," he replies, snuggling up into me and pulling my body against his chest as he spoons me.

"I love you, baby. Sweet dreams," are the last whispered words I hear before I drift off into a deep and tranquil sleep.

Taglist: @masnmount @masterclassbaby

[ashintheairlikesnow]

A Little Bit Stabbed

Jake Gets Stabbed Miniseries: First Second Third Fourth Fifth Sixth

CW: Discussion of past child abuse/domestic violence, description of stab wound, painkillers/drugged but in a good way, brief IV needle reference, some short references to Jake’s religious trauma, some trauma response stuff

“Took four of us to get you onto the couch, you know,” Kauri says, fingers moving gently to brush Jake’s short hair back off his forehead. There’s a hint of humor to his deep voice, but Jake catches the tremor in it, too. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“Must be… pretty fucking heavy, then,” Jake manages, voice slightly thin. They gave him something - Nat’s EMT friend showed up with IV supplies while refusing to tell anyone where they’d gotten ahold of everything from, except to repeatedly reassure all of them I know someone, it’s taken care of, I probably won’t go to jail for this. Besides, I’ve been in jail before.

Jake might not have found it very reassuring if he wasn’t halfway to unconscious from the pain alone at the time.

Now, though, there’s a needle feeding a steady supply of something wonderful into his bloodstream, holding the worst of the pain at bay. All he can feel now is maybe a little bit of an itch he knows better than to scratch, and a heaviness to his limbs that keeps them limp and relaxed. 

“We had to turn the stupid thing into the pull-out bed just to make sure your feet wouldn’t be higher than your head.” Kauri smiles at him, but there’s worry in those warm blue eyes, and Jake uses every ounce of strength to lift his good hand, the one on the uninjured side, and take Kauri’s, pulling his knuckles to his lips to brush against them. 

“I’m okay,” Jake says softly. “I am, Kaur. It’s not so bad.”

“It’s not-... you got fucking stabbed in your own kitchen, Jake.” Kauri’s lips thin and he looks away, over towards the TV, playing Clue.

Funny, Jake thinks, woozy and untethered to any kind of focus. My mom used to play Clue when we were alone, after. Made her feel better for a while.

“Just a… a flesh wound,” Jake manages in a terrible approximation of a British accent.

Kauri just looks at him, expression serious, and leans over until their foreheads touch. He’s warm, and Jake’s eyes close, basking in the body heat that comes off of him, surrounds them both. “Don’t,” Kauri whispers. “Please don’t make jokes. I thought-”

“It’s okay,” Jake murmurs. 

Eventually, he should probably tell someone he can only sort of feel the hand on the injured side. But not now. 

“It’s okay. It’s not s’bad. I got the good drugs, right?”

“Antibiotics and…” Kauri squints at the label on the bag attached to the IV, then winces and shakes his head. “Sorry. Can’t read today. It, uh. It kind of comes and goes when I’m worried, and today-”

“I get it. But… you don’t have to worry about me, Kaur. It’s over, it happened… I’ll feel better pretty fast. It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” Kauri says softly, but he relaxes beside Jake, keeping a hold of his hand. His fingers are slightly chilled, but they warm against Jake’s. The two of them settle into silence for a while, a woman in black on the TV with eyes blown wide in comic exaggeration of anger speaking in a blur of sound Jake knows by heart but can’t really pick apart from anything else, not just yet, not right now. 

He knows this movie by heart. He and his mom used to curl up under a blanket while she closed her eyes and prayed for things to get better and Jake prayed for his dad to die in a car accident or some other terrible way, and make it slow, and then pray with terror not to go to hell for thinking like that.

If men like his father go to heaven, Jake would rather burn in hell.

At least my favorite bands would be there, he thinks, and laughs to himself, shoulders shaking a little, sending a ripple of pain down his arm and spiking into his skull. He winces, but the thought still strikes him as too funny to quit circling woozily around his mind, and he keeps laughing a little.

Kauri turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. “What are you laughing at?”

Jake blinks over at him, those wide blue eyes. It had been hell not to be able to hold him for so long, with eyes like that. Real hell, the kind where you spend your days wishing for a connection that seems too hard to make. “Nothing, just… thinking about shit with my dad,” He says, finally. “My mom and I used to watch Clue all the time. It’s her favorite movie.”

“Yeah?” Kauri looks over his shoulder, back at the television, and Jake’s eyes move lazily over the slight bump in his nose where it was broken by someone years ago, the dip of his lips, the roundness of his chin, angling a little with age. The way his neck would feel to trace with just one fingertip, how he smiles when Jake does it, asks him what the fuck he’s looking at when there’s way more to Kauri that needs attention right now than just his face.

There’s a lazy wave of warmth in Jake, a steady thrum of something that goes much deeper than arousal, at the memory.

Adoration.

“Yeah,” He says, softly. “She’d put it on when he left the house, we’d make popcorn and watch it. Saturday night special, popcorn and a movie, Mom and Jake.”

“Where’d your dad go?” Kauri asks, then the answer catches up with him, and he winces. “Wait, sorry. I think I know where he went.”

“Church.”

That is clearly not what Kauri expected to hear. “I-... what?” He turns back to Jake, eyebrows furrowing. “I thought-”

“Nope. He went to church. Fish fry on Saturdays, he volunteered.” Jake is dimly aware that this might be more than he’s ever told Kauri about his father, at least more than he’s ever said that wasn’t laser-focused on the hurts, the bruises, the concussion, the ER visits where Jake learned to lie. “He was a magician with a deep fryer. Best fucking fish I ever ate.” He laughs, then coughs a little against the new round of ache in his shoulder. 

Kauri is quiet for a moment, his eyes searching Jake’s face, maybe looking for an idea of how to respond the right way. Jake knows that look - he’s seen it less and less over the years, but it never fully stops.

Kauri never stops looking for the safe answer, the one that won’t get him hurt. Jake never stops being ready to fight his way out if it happens again. Kauri is still ready to say what the abuser needs to hear, placate and please and keep himself alive.

Jake is still ready to pick up a weapon and use it if his father ever comes near he or his mother again. Not that he ever will. Not that he even wants to, sixteen years after Jake last saw his face. 

But he’s still built, deep within, to fight the threat. And so is Kauri, in his own way. 

“I love you so much,” Jake says softly. “I hope you didn’t pull anything dragging my ass around.”

“Mmmn, guess I’ll find out,” Kauri says softly, snuggling back up to him, then. “Should we change the movie? If it’s, like, a thing for you-”

“Nah.” Jake smiles, slightly. He feels pleasantly drunk, on whatever the painkiller slowly drip-feeding into his arm is. A little woozy, a little bit in love with it. “It’s like a comfort thing, really. I should call my mom-”

“I already did,” Kauri says, gently pushing him back down as Jake tries to make himself sit up. “She’s driving up. She said she’ll get here in the morning, she had to find someone to watch her dog.”

Jake blinks twice. “Mom has a dog?”

“I think it’s new. But, um. You can’t exactly meet her at her hotel, Jake. She’s gonna have to come here.”

Jake feels a rush of old nerves prickling along his arms, the hair of his neck trying to stand up. He closes his eyes, tries to push it back down. “I’ve never given her my address. It’s not safe for us. What if-... I don’t know. I’ve just never… I’ve always worried that if he found her, you know, that he’d… convince her to tell him where I live. He’d turn us all in just to feel like the big righteous moral hero all over again. Probably hard to feel that way when you’re hitting a teenager. Easier when you’re turning in vigilantes with stolen property.” He spits the words, and Kauri flinches a little. “Shit. Sorry, Kaur.”

“No, it’s. It’s okay. I get what you mean. But I don’t think your mom would do that. She loves you.”

“She does.” Jake exhales, closes his eyes. Inside him there is still an angry child that wants to point out that it hasn’t always been enough. But there’s a grown man, and a decade of fucking therapy, telling him there’s a whole lot more to it than that. “And she’s finally come around to understanding why I do this. Yeah… yeah, we’ll tell her where I am. It’ll be fine. Honestly, it’s not so bad. Jameson really did a great job on the stabbing.” Jake tries to laugh again. “Fucking surgeon with a butcher knife. He managed to miss every fucking bit of me that would have killed me.”

“Except for if you bled out,” Kauri points out, voice small. 

“Yeah… but I didn’t.” Jake thinks of Antoni’s face, the focus in his dark eyes, the quick movement of his hands, the blinding agony of the cloth being forced into the wound to soak up the blood, the way Antoni had leaned all his weight forwards to put enough pressure to staunch the bleeding. Jake had never felt pain like that before, and he’s not sure he could handle feeling it again. “Ant was there. It’ll be okay. Where is he?”

“In his room.” Picking at the heavy thick blanket laid over Jake, not quite looking at him now, Kauri asks, “How are you so calm about this?”

“Drugs,” Jake answers right away. “Like ninety percent drugs.” He groans as a throbbing ache travels from the stab wound, up into his skull, all the way down to his toes. “Fuck. The… whatever’s in there helps. But also…” Jake sighs, letting his eyes drift to the ceiling, over the popcorn-texture there. He’d meant to scrape it clean and smooth, when he bought the house, but other stuff kept taking priority, and he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. “This isn’t th’ first time, you know?”

Kauri frowns. “Jake, I have licked just about everything on your body, I’ve never seen a scar from-”

“Not… not stabbed. But… stuck here, on a couch-bed, tryin’... tryin’ to heal from shit. That’s not new.” Jake exhales. Above him, the blades of the ceiling fan circle lazily, and his eyes follow the movement of the shadows. 

“No, I guess not.”

“In any case… I haven’t s-seen… Jameson’s upstairs, right? Can you get him down here?”

Something passes over Kauri’s face, a shadow, a discomfort and darkness that Jake can’t quite read. “Jameson’s not in the house, Jake.”

“What? Why?” Jake starts trying to sit up again, and this time Kauri’s gentle push isn’t enough to get him back down. He grinds his teeth against the pain and forces himself upright, trying to shift his legs over the side of the bed. The room spins around him, dizzy-sick flip in his stomach, but he ignores it. He’s felt worse than this and kept moving before. “Shit, fuck, I should’ve made sure he didn’t leave-”

“He didn’t. I made him go.”

The look Jake turns on Kauri is baffled, but there’s anger, too, welling up inside him. “You what?”

“I told him he can’t stay here if he’s a danger to you and the others,” Kauri says, but he cringes back from Jake’s expression, instinctive fear. Jake hates how he looks like his dad - huge and muscular, a threat inherent in his existence that he might not give off if he were smaller. But his bulk and his strength is also the thing that makes him capable of withstanding the danger he puts himself in for them. It’s the reason he could come home and pick Chris up with a broken rib and carry him after they raided the last safehouse he’d lived in. It’s the reason he could finally fight back with his dad. It’s the reason the kids at his new schools, one after another after another as he and his mom moved constantly to try not to be found, left him alone. 

“Kauri, he can’t-... Jameson’s not. He can’t live on his own.”

“That’s a lie,” Kauri says, lips barely moving. “That’s a lie they tell us-”

“No, that’s not what I-... Jameson’s like Chris,” Jake says, softly. “Like Chris used to be. He was treated like an animal, Kauri. He didn’t get to use fucking utensils to eat in the last two places he was held, he told me himself. He can’t live on his own yet. If you kicked him out… Jesus Christ, Kauri, do you not remember how it felt when you were kicked out?”

Kauri looks like he’s been slapped. “Wait, Jake-... I didn’t mean-”

“We found you half-dead under a goddamn bush, Kauri, you can’t do that to someone else just because I got a little bit stabbed! Shit. Fuck. I gave him a burner phone, if he’s still got it on him, maybe I can call-”

“Jakob fucking Stanton!” Kauri yells so rarely, and Jake goes still, turning to look at him, seeing the anger written across Kauri’s face. Kauri angry is electric, and immensely sexy, and something Jake had gone so long thinking he would never see unless Vincent Shield showed up with a new idea for how to make up for all his failures by forcing himself around someone who hated him. “Will you fucking listen to me?!”

Jake just sits there, staring at him. He can’t even find the words. Eventually, he just nods.

“I didn’t kick him out on the street, I’m not that awful, and fuck you for thinking I am and we’re going to talk about that later when you aren’t half off your head from painkillers. I don’t want him here until you’re feeling better in case it happens again, so I-... so I sent him home with Nat. She doesn’t have anyone living with her right now, and she said okay, so he’s going to stay with her.” Kauri swallows, reaching slowly out to lay his hand on Jake’s leg. “He and I talked. He said it’s always been men, Jake. All of the ones who hurt him were men, one of them was... was really big like you, I guess. So I thought-... if he’s with Nat, maybe it won’t happen again for long enough for him to, to work it through in therapy and Dr. Berger maybe can give him, give him s-something to help. So maybe he won’t, um, hallucinate or… or w-whatever the next time.” Kauri’s eyes well up, glimmer with tears that don’t fall. “I was trying to help. I thought he’d feel safer with only a woman, maybe, and I sent him alone so that he’d know he can’t hurt Allyn, he was really scared of that, and…”

Jake’s mouth hangs open.

Kauri slumps over, his forehead slowly resting against Jake’s back where he sits slightly behind him now that Jake is nearly off the bed. “I had to make sure everyone’s safe. I didn’t know what else to do. I sent Chris to stay with Laken overnight but he’ll be back tomorrow, Antoni’s fucked up but he’s in his room and he’s safe, and all the rescues promised to stay in their rooms and Allyn tried to go with Jameson and I think they hate me now because I said no, but I didn’t-... I tried to think of what you would do, if it had been Chris or me he’d hurt. I was trying to be like you. I’m s-sorry if I fucked it up, I’m sorry, please, I thought you were going to die, please don’t be mad at me-”

“Kauri.” Jake turns, and uses his good hand to lift Kauri’s chin, meeting his eyes. 

Blue on blue, always. 

“I’m not mad,” He says, gently. “Not… not now. You’re right, I shouldn’t have… just been a shit deciding what you did without asking. I’m sorry. So, let me just… you spent the last couple of hours really fucking busy, huh?”

Kauri nods, kissing Jake’s fingertips, one by one. “I’m sorry,” He whispers. “I’m not… I’m not good at this, I’m not... not... I was so scared. I didn’t know what you would do, Jake, and Nat said she thought it was a good idea, so-”

“It is. It is a good idea.” Kauri blinks, surprised, and the tears that have been threatening finally run, clear as crystal, down his flushed cheeks. He looks like a fucking sculpture, Jake thinks to himself, like some artist’s idea of the perfect beautiful person. “Kauri, just. Now that I get what you were trying to do… Shit. That’s really smart.”

Kauri huffs a laugh, a kind of half-sobbing sound, and shakes his head. “It’s just, I was just guessing-”

“That’s all we ever do, too,” Jake says, voice soft. “We guess, at what we can do to help. Nat always says we make the hard choices when nobody else can. Kauri, that’s the smartest fucking idea. I’m… that’s some grace under fire shit. That’s amazing.”

“It… it is?”

“Yeah.” Jake kisses him, and Kauri tastes like mouthwash, like mint, kisses back with desperate intensity. “Yeah, Kaur. That’s even better than what I would have done. You’re so fucking smart. What made you decide to slum it with me?”

“You have a really good d-dick and I don’t w-w-want to lose access,” Kauri says, and he’s crying or laughing or maybe both. “You’re my eye candy.”

“You’re my Einstein.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me yourself,” Jake says softly. 

“Heal a little first.” Kauri sighs, half-smiling, pulling Jake back into the bed to lay down again. “Everyone’s safe, Jake. At least for now. Everyone’s okay. You need to rest, and everyone’s going to be okay.”

Jake lets his head be maneuvered back onto the pillow, feels Kauri settle back down next to him, pulling the blankets back up over them both. He’s silent for a while, lets the soft sound of the end of the movie wash over him, showing the different endings.

“I love you,” He whispers. The way the adrenaline is fading makes him sleepy, drifting in a new drowsy haze, ready to dose off again. “So much.”

“Love you, too,” Kauri murmurs. 

He knows this - the couch-bed pulled out, watching movies and stand-up comedy at a low volume, a throb of pain somewhere that will heal only with time - by heart.

With Kauri’s weight and warmth beside him, it feels entirely, completely new.

-

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @whumpfigure @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @newandfiguringitout @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whumpiary @endless-whump

[lady-of-the-lotus]

Xuexiao Goes to the DMV

Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen go to the DMV (aka Where Hope Goes To Die) and share a kiss.

That’s it. That’s the fic.

Xuexiao - T (just for some cursing) - Read on AO3!

*

“If you hear about someone going berserk in a DMV on the news, that’ll be me,” the mechanical text-to-speech voice reads aloud, and Xiao Xingchen turns to Xue Yang questioningly.

Xue Yang reaches over and turns the volume down on Xingchen’s phone. “Meant to send that to A-Qing.”

“Are we going to be escorted out? Again?”

Xue Yang grins and looks around the room. They’ve already been at the DMV for over an hour. Dozens of people are draped limply over the hard orange seats, eyes glazed, going down for the third time in a sea of government bureaucracy.

“Ticket 4352, now being served at window thirty-three,” announces the robotic voice over the loudspeaker.

“It would take an alien invasion to wake these people up,” Xue Yang says as a man in overalls shuffles past. “You should see these people. This must be what a lobotomy post-op recovery room looks like.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Like the world’s most incompetent deli, filled with zombie customers waiting to eat the brains of whatever the opposite of employee of the month is. Well, ‘brains.’ They work at the DMV, after all.”

Xiao Xingchen adjusts his sunglasses. “Let's not be mean.”

“And we can all hear you,” adds a woman on his left. “Not that it made much sense.”

Xue Yang makes a face at her and turns back to Xingchen. “If they make me come back a third time, I’m going to go postal. You know, going postal should be called ‘going DMV.’ It’s catchier, for one thing, and I’ve never so much as stepped foot in a post office—”

“I’m keeping you far away from post offices. Those poor people have suffered enough.”

“How so?”

“Well, there must be a reason they go postal, right?”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. “If the post office has the same taste in music as the DMV, I don’t blame them. Who picked this station? If it’s not Justin Bieber it’s whoever inflicted ‘Kiss Me Through the Phone’ on the world. I’d like to do something to them through the phone, and it won’t be a kiss, I can tell you that much.”

Xiao Xingchen takes a Snickers bar out of the fanny pack Xue Yang has vainly begged him not to wear. “According to the television commercials, this will improve your mood.”

“My mood?” Xue Yang takes a bite. “If I have to hear ‘Baby’ one more time—”

“Ticket 9753, now being served at window fourteen.”

“ ‘Served.’ Ha. As if.”

Xiao Xingchen feels around for another Snickers bar but comes up empty. He should have planned this better. He’d sensed Xue Yang’s mood coming on last night as Xue Yang went through his documents. He’d been cheerful enough until he found his birth certificate in the bundle of papers he’d been given after leaving his last group home.

Then he’d grown strangely quiet, and wandered aimlessly around their apartment for an hour, carrying his phone around with him and switching between a half-dozen different YouTube videos before deciding to bake brownies at 1am and burning them when he got distracted playing video games. He wasn’t paying much attention to the video game, either, going by his cursing as he got repeatedly blown up by what Xingchen suspects was a twelve-year old somewhere in Japan, and eventually gave that up to go take apart their toaster in the interest of “fixing” it.

Now he sits beside Xingchen, jiggling his leg. Xiao Xingchen wants to ask him about his birth certificate, but he hadn't dared to last night, and doesn’t dare now.

“Ticket 9755, now being served at Window 26.”

“Weren’t you 9754?” he asks Xue Yang.

“Oh, crap—” Xue Yang jumps to his feet and rushes to Window 26, brushing past a mohawked man holding a ticket marked 9755. “I’m 9754.”

The woman behind the glass may as well have been carved from wood. “You missed your number.”

“There was no announcement!”

“Or your number isn’t working. It’s not showing up on my computer.”

“What the hell does that mean? I’m on the screen! Look!” Xue Yang jabs a finger at the screen above the booth. At the bottom of the list it reads Ticket 9754 – Window 26. “9754! Window 26! All you need to do is take my picture—”

“Get back in line. Get a new ticket. Window 13.”

“Get back in line?” He looks over at the line for Window 13. It wraps around the entire room. “I already have a number! I’m on the screen!”

“Back. In. Line.”

“Just take the damn photo—”

Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. “Thank you, ma’am. We’ll get back in line.”

“Like hell we will! I’ve been here since 5 o’clock—I made an appointment! I even brought my own pen! You ever watch Monsters Inc.? You know Roz? Are you her evil older sister? Because you look exactly like—”

“Back of the line.”

“Younger sister, then. Happy?”

The woman doesn’t bother shrugging. “You’re blocking traffic.”

Xingchen begins to move, heading in the wrong direction. Xue Yang has no choice but to follow or else let him walk into a column plastered with posters emblazoned with, Make your visit easy - download the forms at dmv.gov! , Streamline your visit - make an appointment online today!, and We’re here to help!

“Let’s just go home,” says Xue Yang. “The gray, water stained walls are starting to close in. At any second I expect a giant ball to roll towards us. Well, wrong movie—whatever. I’m sick of this place. It’s cursed.”

“We’re just going to have to come back, and you’ll have wasted the hour we already spent here.”

Xue Yang groans and gets in line behind a woman with three small screaming children. “This whole thing is stupid. We can barely afford rent, let alone a car."

"We will, one day. Besides, it's good to have a license."

"We’ll just take trains and buses everywhere, or you can learn to drive. We'll fudge the vision test."

Xingchen laughs. Xue Yang relaxes slightly at the sound. After a moment, Xingchen slips his hand in his. He’s not one for public displays of affection, but there’s an edge in Xue Yang’s voice that has nothing to do with his return to Window 13.

Xue Yang’s hand tightens in his, and Xingchen rubs it reassuringly with his thumb.

“You again?” says the woman at Window 13 when they finally make it there, twenty minutes later.

“That power-mad dictator at Window 26 wouldn’t take my picture.”

The woman tilts her head at Xue Yang. “She wouldn’t?”

Xue Yang tilts his head back at her, as if to say, I know! Who wouldn’t want to photograph me ?

She smiles, a synthetic smile that reminds Xue Yang of his friend Lan Xichen’s dimpled little fiance. “Strange.”

“ ‘Strange’? I knew she could have just done it had she wanted to—”

The woman blinks at him, her smile growing faker by the minute. “I’m sure what she told you was accurate.”

“Sure, and there is no war in Ba-Sing-Se—”

Xiao Xingchen squeezes his hand, and Xue Yang stops talking and passes her his form. She stamps it a second time and hands him another ticket.

He and Xingchen return to the waiting area. Xue Yang puts his boots up on the seat next to him, resting his head on Xingchen’s shoulder.

“Describe the room to me again,” Xingchen says, trying to distract him from his brooding and, with any luck, keep him from taking out his Swiss army knife and carving his initials into the seat and get them kicked out again. Xue Yang has a talent for describing things, and Xingchen has been trying to encourage him to start writing.

Xue Yang begins to play with his long sleek ponytail. “Purgatory’s antechamber. Humanity’s lost-and-found. A void where time has no meaning. Pit of despair and industrial cleaner.”

Xingchen chuckles, making sure it’s loud enough for Xue Yang to hear.

“If their posters were honest, they’d all be in Comic Sans font, with things like, Where hope goes to die; This is your home now; Nothing escapes our pull, not even time; Human sacrifices while you wait—”

“Human sacrifices?”

"Yeah, I think so."

A crackle of static over the speaker as a new song comes on. “You know you love me, I know you care...Just shout whenever and I'll be there….”

Xue Yang starts up violently, but Xiao Xingchen gently pulls him back down beside him. “Some kind of cannibal conspiracy?” he asks, hoping Xue Yang’s knife has remained in his pocket and is not seconds away from being embedded in a blaring loudspeaker.

Xue Yang settles back against his shoulder. “I’m positive Overalls Guy never returned from Window 17. He’s probably in the office barbecue pit.”

“This must go all the way to the top. Shift supervisor too, I’d guess.”

“Baby, baby, baby oh….Like baby, baby, baby no….”

Xue Yang stops playing with his hair and starts picking at his black nail polish. He’s feeling a bit better, Xingchen’s shoulder warm and solid. “I swear that Roz lady put a curse on me. They all probably dance in a circle around a stack of burning Social Security cards every night, chanting.” He squirms, suddenly bored. “You got any more food? I’m starving.”

Xingchen rummages in his fanny pack. “Just a burned brownie.”

“I swear I set a timer!"

The timer had gone off while Xingchen was in the shower last night. Xue Yang had simply ignored it, too absorbed in trying to virtually blow up his twelve-year-old nemesis. He tends to ignore timers while cooking, usually followed by a mad rush to the kitchen to salvage dinner. “You know dinner is ready when the smoke detector goes off,” he likes to say.

Xue Yang sniffs the crumpled foil surrounding the charred black brownie chunk. “Is this the same foil I wrapped your tuna sandwich in yesterday?”

“We only have one earth!”

“Xingchen, I swear—” Xue Yang stops, rolling his eyes fondly. He’s never met anyone who can be so annoying and endearing at the same time.

Xingchen takes the brownie back. “I'll eat it. I like the burned bits.”

"It's all burned bits."

"Exactly. Perfect."

“She knows she's got me dazing, 'cause she was so amazin'....And now my heart is breakin', but I just keep on sayin'....”

“Who wrote this? I swear I won’t hurt them. I just want their address.”

Xingchen knows he shouldn’t laugh at that, but he can’t help it.

They sit there for another half hour, talking. Xue Yang has succeeded in denuding the nails of his left hand when his number is finally called. He gets his photo taken by a man with glazed eyes and no chin, and is shuffled off to the next waiting area.

“They refused to show me my photo,” he says as they settle back down. “I swear the camera stole my soul and is using it to power the fluorescent lights. I feel at peace now. Kind of floating.” He discovers a piece of gum in his jeans pocket and begins to loudly blow bubbles, making full eye contact with the annoyed Bluetooth Guy and irritated Woman With Facial Tattoo Of Bugs Bunny. “I am one with the DMV demigods, part of something larger than myself.”

“Like joining the army.”

“Or drowning in the ocean.” He lays down with his head in Xingchen’s lap, boots on the edge of Bluetooth Guy’s seat. “Why does your fanny pack smell like patchouli? Have you been burning weird hippie incense again? You promised you’d stop after you set fire to your curtains.”

Xingchen would rather Xue Yang didn’t semi-cuddle him in public, but Xue Yang’s energy is calmer when he’s touching Xingchen, and he lets him stay. “It’s that new candle you bought me, remember?”

“Right. Bought you.”

“What do you—”

“I thought it was peppermint.”

Xingchen bites his lip. Xue Yang is…well, he can read well enough to pass a driving test, but his education was…slipshod at best. Next on Xingchen’s list is encouraging Xue Yang to get his GED.

“You smell like a music festival,” says Xue Yang. “I must have grabbed the wrong one in the store. I sniffed all of them. My picture is probably hanging beside the register of every Bath & Body Works in town: ‘Beware the Candle Perv’—”

“At least someone was willing to take your picture.”

Xue Yang laughs. Xingchen rests a hand on his chest, heedless of the people around them. He likes how Xue Yang feels when he laughs, his whole body shaking, making no attempt to hide his feelings. Xue Yang makes him laugh so often, it’s a special joy for him to return the favor.

They’ve been there almost two and a half hours when Xue Yang’s number is finally called. As if the DMV curse is kicking in again, the loudspeakers creep up another few decibels.

“Like baby, baby, baby no, like baby, baby, baby oh, thought you'd always be mine, mine….”

“Xue Yang—” Xingchen starts before Xue Yang can say anything.

“I know, I know. This is penance for my putting that egg in Song Lan’s shoe last week. The DMV knows all. The DMV was here before us, and will be here after we are gone. The DMV—”

“—The DMV will make us wait in line again, if we don’t hurry.”

Together they go to Window 10, where a drab little man sifts through Xue Yang’s documents. “Fifties, balding, completely dead inside,” Xue Yang whispers to Xingchen.

“I’m thirty-nine,” says the man in a monotone, not looking up, “and you’re missing a birth certificate. And what’s this stain on your Social Security card?”

“Definitely not blood.”

The man stares at him with eyes that, had his life force not already been sucked out of Xue Yang by an afternoon at the DMV, would have done the job. “Current passport, or birth certificate.”

Xue Yang hesitates, then slips a folded piece of pink paper under the glass partition.

The man unfolds it with the sterling speed of a drugged snail and spreads it over the counter. He lines up Xue Yang’s Social Security card, bank statement, and birth certificate, and examines them line by line as if he’s a Bletchley Circle analyst and Xue Yang’s documents are intercepted enemy transmissions.

He looks up at Xue Yang. “Is this a valid birth certificate? There are no parent names listed, and the date of birth has an asterisk—”

“I know what it has!”

“What’s your date of birth?” The man slowly pushes his chair back. “I’m going to have to get a supervisor—”

Xue Yang slams the counter. Xingchen lays a hand on his arm. It’s a miracle Xue Yang’s knife isn’t out. “Don’t you fucking dare! This is what they do when—just Google it, okay? I don’t know what day I was born, they just put whatever date they thought was accurate—”

Xingchen swallows hard.

He had known Xue Yang had grown up in foster care, but had assumed he had been given up by his parents as a child when they could no longer take care of him.

Not—not abandoned as an infant—

“And change the fucking station!” Xue Yang adds. “If I have to hear that stupid fucking song one more time I will go fucking berserk —”

The man’s dead-eyed stare intensifies. “Sign here,” he says after a moment, pushing a slip of paper at Xue Yang.

“You want my love, you want my heart….And we will never, ever, ever be apart…”

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Xingchen asks as they step outside. The words sound hollow, and he wishes he had simply remained silent.

Xue Yang takes a deep breath. It’s almost cool out, a welcome change from the week’s heat. “Well, we escaped. Now we just have to get help for the others. Or do we abandon them to their fates? I vote we abandon them. You should have seen some of the looks I got. It’s like they never saw someone threaten a DMV employee before, something I’m willing to bet happens a dozen times an hour.”

Xingchen takes his arm as he begins to walk. It’s easier than using his stick in the crowded city. “Xue Yang…”

Xue Yang’s muscles tense beneath his arm. “What?”

“Nothing.” He bites his lip. He’ll have Xue Yang feeling better soon enough. “What street are we on? Turn in on 33rd.”

“What’s on 33rd?”

“Just let me know when we’re there. 33rd and 7th.”

“The train’s on 36th.”

“But the restaurant’s on 33rd.”

“The what?”

Xingchen wants to smile, but is afraid Xue Yang might take it the wrong way after what happened at the DMV. For someone who does his best to project an I-don’t-care attitude, Xue Yang is surprisingly sensitive.

“What’s today’s date?” He already knows the date, of course. It’s been on his mind for weeks now.

Xue Yang’s arm grows even stiffer. “Is this a ‘you-don’t-know-when-your-birthday-is-so-every-day-is-your-birthday’ thing? Because—”

“Not at all… Remember the day we met? You made fun of my shirt—”

Xue Yang frowns at this sudden change of subject, but goes along with it. Better than talking about that damn birth certificate. “It was white, and ruffled. You looked like an escapee from a high school production of Hamlet. What was I supposed to do?”

“You crashed a motorcycle not three feet from me. An unregistered motorcycle with stolen plates.”

"I bought you coffee to make up for it, didn’t I?”

“You had them put four sugars in my cappuccino. It was undrinkable.”

“One was a Splenda, and anyway I took you to dinner to make up for the coffee, didn’t I?”

“Pizza at one of those dollar-a-slice places you have to stand at a counter to eat. I paid for it.”

“And I paid for your kombucha, whatever the heck that is.”

“And I paid for the band-aids we had to go buy after you cut yourself after playing catch with your knife.”

“You were distracting me!”

“I was quietly eating my pizza.”

“The light reflecting off your shirt ruffles got in my eyes.”

“Four dollars for the band-aids. You insisted on Hello Kitty.”

“Spongebob was also on the table." He wrinkles his nose. "I've got about three-fifty in my pocket, if you want it. But what’s your point, exactly?'

Xingchen smiles. He enjoys winding up Xue Yang, and it’s by far the most effective way to distract him when he’s in a dark mood. “Just that you better not put extra sugar in the fondue.”

“The what?”

“A-Qing read me the dessert menu. Chocolate fondue with bananas, blueberries, pineapple, and cherries. Strawberries, too, I think, and marshmallows, maybe even non-charred brownies—”

Xue Yang stops walking. “Xingchen—”

Xingchen lets go of Xue Yang’s arm, takes his hand instead. Kisses him soundly, right there on Sixth Avenue.

“Forget your birthday," he says. "We have a new date to celebrate every year." He gives Xue Yang's hand a little squeeze and kisses him again. “Happy anniversary, Xue Yang.”

*

Liked it? AO3 👉👈

Ruffle shirt reference

Obviously, Xue Yang was simply distracted by how pretty Xingchen was.

[anotheranimestan]

hi! I just read “all bark no bite” and omg it was so good!! looking forward to more of your writing and possible a part 2 if you get the chance!

Thank you!!!!!😃�� Your wish is my command!

All Bark No Bite (pt. 2)

Bakugo angst + sexual tensionnnn

Read part 1 here

wc: 3k

I hope this is as fun for you to read as it is for me to write! Also why is he 👇 this fineee for no reason.

The next morning, you woke up trying to convince yourself it was all a dream...or a nightmare. But the way you could still feel the softness of his fingers around your neck completely contradicted your wishes. You also had to keep wiping little smiles off your face throughout your entire morning routine. You tried to combat them by listing all the things you hated about Bakugo but it was helpless. Every train of thought ended with the shape of his lips and how nicely they molded with yours.

You and Mina walked to class together and you swore she’d developed a mind reading quirk. You felt her eyes on you like a blazing sun. Although this was really all in your head. She only asked “are you okay?” because you kept looking at her like you’d committed a hate crime.

You and Bakugo didn’t look at each other once during class. No leg shaking, pen stealing or insults. Not even a well timed scoff when you were called on to answer a question. You tried your best to clear your mind and forget everything that had occurred in that hall last night. After a while of this torture you even were having a little bit of success.

But of course your peace was ruined as you walked to lunch. He couldn’t let you have anything. And of course he wasn’t going to leave you alone.

“Hey Little Bite, I hear we get to pick our groups for combat training today. All Might is going to make me a team captain, obviously. So if you want to be on my team let me know. I mean I assume you don’t wanna lose. You just gotta ask me nicely.” His usual cocky tone crept under your skin.

You desperately tried to ignore him as he followed you. Each footstep he started gaining on you being more annoying than the last. But what really did it was the pencil he threw at your head.

“Please, actively do not pick me.”

He ignored your objection and continued on his line of bullshit.

“I suppose I could take you. Your quirk would be useless, I’m all the attack power we’d need to win but I could use you as a decoy or something.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to be on a team with you, moron. Your pea brain doesn’t know how to do anything but blow shit up. You’re like an explosive cave man. Besides being too close to you for too long makes me wanna vomit.”

He cackled. You knew exactly what he was thinking and immediately regretted your words.

“That’s weird—“

You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at his head. But he just caught it and made it explode with a smug look on his face.

“Ugh. I cannot stand you.” You groaned.

“You sure about that?” He said with a suggestive eyebrow.

He was so hot....it made you want to punch him in the throat. Without thinking you shrugged off your backpack and swung it at his face. His reflexes bested you again though and he caught the bag, yanking it from you. The force was harder than you expected, it sent you flying into his chest. You both tumbled to the ground and landed shoulder to shoulder. Your skull hit a small rock with a wack. Rubbing the back of your head, shooting pain surfaced.

“Ow!! That fucking hurt dumbass!”

“Sor—“

You swung your arm, aiming to kill, and hit him in the stomach.

It must have really knocked the wind out of him because he made a loud grunting noise that hinted at his surprise. It wasn’t often people got to land a punch on Katsuki Bakugo. King Explosion Murder.

“Do that shit again Little Bite! You’ll regret it!” He grabbed your wrist, attempting to clear a way to get you back. You both started wresting trying to punch each other in the gut. Literally rolling around in the grass in a red hot death match of who could out curse the other.

“Omg, are you guys about to kiss right now?” Mina teased from out of absolutely nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.

You both froze solid as the blood drained from your face. She knew about last night? How did she find out?!

“You told her!?” Bakugo’s entire face was contorting through a whole range of emotions. Shock, horror, embarrassment, accusation, cheekiness, embarrassment again.

“What!?” You panicked. “No! I didn’t!” You swear you didn’t. You replayed your whole morning in your head just to double check.

You turned to your pink friend. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. You watched the gears turn in her head as she realized she’d stumbled upon a miraculously juicy discovery.

“OH. MY. GOD!!! No freaking way!!” She squealed unable to contain herself.

She started blabbering as she attempted to cope with this information. She had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

Your stomach fell as you realized this fatal error. Wait....this wasn’t your error. You pushed him off you and you both scrambled to your feet.

“This is your fault! Why’d you say that!” You shoved a finger in Bakugo’s chest. Which actually hurt because....he’s solid.

“Don’t yell at me!” He yelled back at an even louder volume.

Mina started running around in little circles. “They kissed!!!” She then abruptly stopped in her tracks and you watched a lightbulb flicker on.

No.....

“KIRISHIMA!!!! KAMINARI!!!” She screamed as she ran toward the cafeteria.

“MINA DONT YOU FUCKING DA—“ Bakugo exploded into a full sprint to chase her down. But she was like a rocket.

You chased after them desperately trying to reconcile all this is your mind. But it was no use, your brain was melting. Everyone was about to find out. The relentless jokes...they would never end. You could die right here.

Both of them ran so fast you fell horribly behind. By the time you rounded the corner and caught up to them a whole event had already taken place.

Bakugo was screaming on the top of his lungs. You could practically see the steam coming off the top of his head.

Kaminari was standing there in his stupid form with a half torn shirt. Jesus, what did Bakugo do to him?

Mina and Kirishima were laying on the ground, their face covered in tears. They were laughing so hard no sounds were even coming out.

“Oh my god,” Mina squeaked out between gasps for air, “Bakugo has a crush.”

“It’s so adorable!” Kirishima said wiping the tears from his eyes as he attempted to stop laughing. With no success, they both bursted again after seeing Bakugo slamming his fists into the grass. The teasing was making him want to rip his eyes out. He couldn’t stand it.

“Shut up Kirishima!!!�� He jumped on top of his friend and started repeatedly banging his head into the ground. Of course this did absolutely nothing to the hard head. It just made him laugh even more.

Poor Denki just stood there drooling with a little smile on his face and giggling.

You were frozen. Stunned. It was like watching a comedy movie in which you were the punchline.

But all the laughs fell a silent as a furious voice cut through the air.

“What is this.” It wasn’t a question. Mr. Aizawa looked like he hadn’t slept in three days and this used up his last bit of patience.

“Bakugo. Get off him immediately.” He growled.

You knew how this looked. Bakugo was attacking Kirishima after successfully making Kaminari fry his own brain. Your friends’ laughter wasn’t enough to hide Bakugo’s apparent violence even if it was over something as stupid as a kiss. Mr. Aizawa couldn’t possibly know that.

“I overlooked your behavior yesterday, picking a fight with Miss. y/n. But now attacking your other classmates as well? This is violent behavior is unacceptable.”

“Mr. Aizawa—“ Kirishima tried to defend his friend but it was no use.

“Not another word.” Your teacher was glaring at Bakugo with laser beams.

The hot head just stood there in silence with a scowl on his face and two tightly clenched fists. He was really just going to take the heat for everyone? No arguments?

“I’m putting you on house arrest for the rest of the day. No more classes and no combat training.” You watched the dagger go through Bakugo’s chest. Today was going to be offensive training with All Might. You knew he was looking forward to it. Guilt punched your core.

“Mr. Aizawa wait. I’m the one who picked a fight with him yesterday. I challenged him. He shouldn’t get into trouble because of me.” You shuffled toward him timidly. He was scary when he was like this.

Everyone looked at you in surprise. They all knew it was true, that you’d egged him on. And he wouldn’t be raging right now if you hadn’t kissed, so today was also partially your fault. But they were truly surprised because you normally would revel in Bakugo getting scolded. But you weren’t fucking evil. And this wasn’t Bakugo’s fault at all...although he really needed to get his fucking temper in check. Idiot.

“Is that true?” Aizawa asked Bakugo.

The hot head took a deep breath. “Does that sound like me at all? I’d never give into her weak attempts at baiting me. I fought her because I wanted to.”

Your eyes popped out at his words. He lied. Why the fuck would he do that?

Mr. Aizawa escorted Bakugo to the dorms, lecturing the entire way.

“This sucks.” Kirishima said with a frown.

“I know. I feel so bad!” Mina cried sadly.

You had no words. The four of you walked to lunch with drooping heads. You held Kaminari’s hand the whole way until his brain recharged.

Recalling you’d left your backpack in the quad you ran back to get it. Upon arrival you realized Bakugo’s backpack was also there. He wouldn’t even have his stuff with him to finish homework or study during house arrest. You groaned. This guilt was horrible. It ate at you for rest of the day. The rest of your friends didn’t feel any better. And combat training wasn’t the same for you without that familiar sound of explosions going off in the background. It actually made the class feel kind of empty.

As usual at the end of the day you sat in the common area with the rest of the girls.

“So...is it true y/n?” Ochaco poked hesitantly.

You glared at Mina. Loose lips as usual.

“Sorry y/n. I talk when I’m stressed.” Mina cried only kind of regretful.

You sighed. You didn’t have the heart to actually be upset with her. You were the villain here. Getting Bakugo into so much trouble.

“Yea.” You huffed out. Talking about it made you cringe. It was like admitting your sworn rival had defeated you somehow. Even if you sort of didn’t mind the way he did it...

“What was it like?” Mina asked excited for the details.

“Is he a good kisser?” Ochaco added.

Your mind fell into a fog as you replayed the kiss again. Your skin went electric as you remembered the feel of his hands on your waist and those noises he was making. His lips wrapped around yours....

“Oh my god...Ochaco shes in love!” Mina concluded from you zoning out for what ended being like 15 seconds of you staring into space with a little smile on your face. She was practically singing.

“I am not!” You yelled flustered.

“Why are so many people yelling today?” Kirishima chuckled as he rounded the corner to join the couch.

“So is he mad?” Mina’s voice had changed into the sad one from earlier.

“I don’t know. Every time I knock he just tells me to go away. But that’s not that different from normal honestly.” He smiled. Their friendship was so odd.

Suddenly his backpack flashed through your mind. It was sitting in your room.

You got up to leave. You tried to be sneaky about it as they discussed how to cheer the victim up. But to no avail, they’d never let you sneak off again.

“Where you going huh?” Mina’s voice was painfully suggestive.

“To my room!”

“Uh huh, we’ve heard that one before.”

You stuck your tongue at her.

Kirishima twisted to face you over the back of the couch. “So if I ask Bakugo tomorrow if he saw you tonight he’s gonna say no, right?” Who knew he could be this ruthless. No mercy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. You’d been cornered.

“Look. He left his backpack earlier and I’m just going to give it to him! Jeez do you want to do it or something Kiri?” You were seething.

“Nahh, you should do it. He’ll just yell at me to go away again.” He winked. It made you cringe again.

You could peel your skin off from this teasing. But you know someone who hated it even more. You knew that’s why he wouldn’t let Kirishima into his room.

You ran off before they could crack any more jokes.

On your way to the elevators you heard a creepy cackle come from somewhere. You spun around, alarmed, as a “what the fuck” escaped your lips. Your eyes landed on one eyeball peeking through the crack of a doorway.

“Can I get a kiss too?” The voice was wet with drool and lust. “Just one?”

“I will kick your face in Mineta.”

The door quickly shut. Did Mina tell the fucking whole class!?

With more haste now you stormed to your room to get the stupid backpack that was causing you so many problems and made your way to your other problem’s door.

Before you knocked you realized your hands were shaking. Nervous? Seriously, over this moron? You shook it off with resolve and knocked.

“Fuck off Denki, for the hundredth fucking time I’m busy!” A gruff voice yelled from behind the door.

“Oh please, busy with what?” You retorted reflexively. Earlier you had decided you were going to try to be nicer but that sentiment wore off as soon as you heard his annoying voice.

The door swung open.

“What do you want?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

Your mind went blank. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Of course it made his biceps look better than normal. He was wearing a black t-shirt that made his skin look perfectly tanned and was snug in all the right places. And why did he always smell so good damn. Today it was like vanilla and woodsy aftershave.

Stop staring. Stop staring. Speak bitch.

“Here’s your backpack. You should keep better track of it. I had to carry it around all day. That’s annoying.” You tossed it at him.

Why couldn’t you say anything nice? He took the heat for everyone. It’s like your mouth was rebelling against you.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe you should work out more weakling.”

Panic panged in your chest as he started to shut the door in your face.

“Wait—“ you stopped it with your hand.

He paused. Mild interest dawned his brow.

“Why—why did you lie?”

“What?”

“To Mr. Aizawa. You could have told him it was my fault.”

“What do you care?” He pressed. His tone always managed to infuriate you.

You spun on your heels and started to walk away. “Nevermind.”

“Because I felt bad. You hurt your stupid head.”

You’d forgotten about that with all the guilt that had been overrunning your head. It didn’t even hurt anymore. You were surprised he’d even noticed.

“Oh.”

“But obviously you’re fine now so I guess it was all for nothing.” He added quickly trying to sound indignant.

The guilt punched you again. Especially now that you were face to face with him. He didn’t even look mad. He actually looked calm. And he looked good. You tried to deny your attraction to him. But flashes of his hand on your waist started invading your mind again. You could feel him wrapped around your neck. The way he was gentle and rough at the same time.

“Instead of just standing there you could actually make yourself useful. You owe me anyways.”

You snapped out of it trying not to look flustered. You shot him a confused and slightly offended look.

“Fill me in on what I missed in class...” he explained. He wouldn’t make direct eye contact though.

“Are you saying you need my help?” You had to do it. You couldn’t not take an opportunity.

“Tch. Obviously no—“

“Let’s do it. Move.” You said as you pushed past him into his room. Your hand made full contact with his abs and you felt that heat again.

He shut the door behind you and your heart started off like a race horse as you heard him lock it.

You suspected it was to lock the other boys out. God forbid they catch you in his room after all this.

Shit....you were in his room. Alone. With your hot head. The day after he kissed you. The evening after he took all the fury of Mr. Aizawa for you and moments after he asked you to help him study even though he gets way better grades than you.

He cleared a spot for you to sit on his bed and then leaned back into his chair with his hands locked behind his head. His flexing muscles were distracting you again.

“You better actually remember everything.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him.

His words were supposed to rile you but the way he looked at you, like he was secretly loving that you were here was making your stomach flutter. You could feel your face red and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. At this rate you were going to throw yourself at him before he had the chance to kiss you again. As long as you two didn’t start fighting again first.....

~~

💥 YES there will be a pt 3!!! 💥

It’s going to be called “sTuDyiNg” HAHA (hint: Bakugo doesn’t actually wanna study “dumbass”)

Update: Pt.3 is up now!! Read it here

[obeiii-mee]

Hey! Sorry to bother you with a second ask but i thought this one would be cool. Fluffy headcanons of the demon brothers watching scary movies with MC??? Somewhere MC gets scared, and some where they don't? Thanks again!! :)

It’s no bother!! I love getting requests from you guys! The more, the merrier. I sort of hc that the brothers and MC do have movie night every week or so and with them being demons, they tend to levitate towards the horror genre. Thank you for sending this, this is really cute :)))

Without further ado—-

————————————

The Brothers watching Scary movies with MC:

Lucifer:

-Haha mf already knows how this is going to end

-He warned you, he really did

-The horror movies DevilDom has to offer are nothing, and I mean nothing, like the ones from the human world

-I’m not going to go into detail but imagine Two Girls One Cup, in a less kinky and more gorey way (then times that by 10)

-But you were adamant into giving it a go and he literally could not deny you in that moment

-Because you were giving him the puppy eyes

-That’s like, the finishing blow you use every time to get your way with him and as far as you know it’s the only one that works so-

-He expected your reaction to the last second

-You were traumatised for lack of a better word and you were basically watching the whole film through the cracks between your fingers

-Seeing you in that state was like a punch in the gut but he couldn’t stop himself from throwing in a subtle ‘I told you so’

-“I told you watching something like this before bed is a bad idea, MC.”

-He might be a bit condescending and judgemental at first, but he’s probably going to baby you a bit for the rest of the night

-Because he feels bad he allowed you to watch it in the first place

-HAHAHAHA SOFT LUCIFER HAS BEEN SUMMONED, USE HIM WISELY

-He will start muttering words of comfort to you later because he’s certain you’re going to have trouble sleeping

-Because of that one time, he’s very hesitant to let you watch another horror film anytime soon

-But he will relent eventually (especially if you want to watch a human horror film as those are technically less extreme)

-If it makes you happy, he will go through with it, even if he has to let you cling onto him for the rest of the day

-Besides, the way you cuddle into him while you’re watching a horror film is very cute and endearing to him

Mammon:

-Ah yes, the most effective method of waking up the entire House of Lamentation at 3:00 am

-Mammon screaming his own vocal cords out in his room as he tries to get through his human’s favourite horror movie without dying of a heart attack

-It was his idea because he’s definitely the type to go: “Yeah let’s do this, it will be fun. Don’t get too scared alright MC? The Great Mammon will be here to protect ya.”

-And then ten minutes in, he’s basically in your lap

-Half an hour in, he turned himself into a demon burrito with his blankets

-You were enjoying the movie, laughing at the stupid sound effects and poor quality while Mammon next to you has wrapped himself in like two dozen blankets and pillows

-“Mammon you’re going to overheat.”

-“Don’t be silly human, I’m a demon who lives in hell. I can take high temperatures the same way I can take this damn movie!”

-He doesn’t take either of them well

-Mammon and the horror genre don’t mix well together to begin with

-So even if you might enjoy horror, he doesn’t react well to it at all

-And he’ll be low-key relieved if you tell him you guys don’t have to watch any sort of horror film for your date night

-“Well I guess if you don’t want to, then we don’t have to. Can’t make my human do something they’re uncomfortable with eh?”

-But if you do watch a scary movie with him, be sure to show any sort of physical affection to him as often as possible

-You don’t have to say anything, just hold his hand or let him put his head in your lap or something

-It might stop him from screeching like a female sloth in heat

-The last time that happened, his brothers weren’t too pleased with him

-They about to recreate the horror film scenes onto him, bring the popcorn have fun

Levi:

-For some reason, I feel like he doesn’t get scared easily while watching stuff

-I mean, after decades of obsessively watching animes with brutal character deaths (like Attack on Titan style) and grotesque horror games that are pretty nasty even to demons, let alone humans;

-A horror film, from the human world or even DevilDom, doesn’t do much for him

-It will have to have very good psychological horror in it if you want the hairs on his arms to stand up in anticipation

-Tension is a big deal for him and he will immediately shut off the TV if there are any cheap jump scares

-But, if you manage to find just the right thing for him?

-You’ll both be hiding under the bed in no time under the bathtub more like

-Hell, if the film you’re watching is that good, he might even be holding onto you for dear life without realising it and getting flustered about it

-For weeks afterwards, any sound that is remotely similar to one from that movie will probably send both of you into panic

-You came to his room one night because you’ve had a nightmare about the stupid film and legitimately thought there was a fucking demon serial killer in your room

-So you wanted to stay in his

-“But what if there is a serial killer in your room and now you just led it to me MC????”

-It’s all jokes, there’s no question he would lock both of you in his room and then stay there with you wide awake until dawn

-You’re his best friend after all, he would have to be completely heartless to leave you on your own! (Besides Levi is terrifying when he wants to be)

-One time you were sleeping over and the sound of fumbling woke you tf up

-And Levi immediately turned into his demon form, like he was ready to throw hands with this fictional murderer that supposedly sneaked into his room

-“DON’T WORRY MC, I’LL PROTECT YOU!”

-“Ah never mind, it’s just Mammon breaking into your room again to steal your Ruri-Cham figurines and sell them on Akuzon.”

-“Oh OK.”

-“.....”

-“WAIT MAMMON WTF YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG, GET OUT OF MY ROOM-“

-I’m playing Minecraft

Satan:

-Believe it or not, Satan doesn’t care much about horror movies

-Don’t get me wrong, he loves watching his brothers shit their pants out of fear in the middle of one while he silently smirks to himself because watching other people suffer brings him euphoria

-Especially if someone actually manages to find a film that is excellent enough to spook Lucifer, because then he will be cackLING

-But, overall, he watches a lot of shows revolved around drama and crime

-That’s his thing

-However, he won’t turn you down if you’re up to watching a scary movie with him

-Any time spent with you is valuable time seeing as it won’t be long before his brothers start hogging you again like the cockblockers they are

-He is honestly surprised to find out you seem to be rather amused by those sort of movies

-So, even if it’s not inherently something he does on the regular, he would definitely watch a scary film with you if you enjoy them that much

-But in exchange, he makes you promise to read with him until bedtime rolls around (imagine Lucifer having a fucking curfew for his brothers and you lmao)

-So for the rest of night you guys just read together, ya know, like sappy romantics

-Tbh, this man will do almost anything with you as long as both of you are having fun

-He knows it’s not likely, but he insists on sleeping in the same room that night just in case you have nightmares and he needs to comfort you

- :)

-Satan is a gentleman. Idk how many people that don’t play OM expected to hear this

Asmo:

-Why would you want to watch a movie when you could be watching him???

-I mean, you would rather watch all that gory stuff on the TV than his beautiful face?

-He may get salty over a fucking movie tbh

-Horror films aren’t something he generally looks for while trying to pick a movie to watch

-He can definitely handle them better than Mammon but it’s not something he takes great pleasure in watching

-But the first time he ever sits down with you to watch one, he’s very intrigued to see your reactions

-You started feeling the sensation of absolute dread creep in at the very beginning and you were trying your best to act like you weren’t getting affected by what you saw on the screen

-But you were

-You went from “I’m grown ass adult, I can watch a fucking horror movie, no problem.”

-To “Welp, not enough of a grown ass adult for this-“

-And Asmo thought the way you tried to hide your nervousness was very mesmerising in a way

-He was planning on flirting with you during the movie anyway, but now that you were pressing himself against him?

-Oh boy, Oh boy

-“Darling if you wanted to touch me, you could’ve just said so. Making the excuse of watching a movie is unnecessary.”

-Nightmares? What nightmares? You won’t have time to have nightmares ;)

-haHAHA funny inappropriate joke

-It’s Asmo, it’s mandatory to have at least one of those added in here

Beel:

-Beel will show up if there’s food and that’s that

-He doesn’t care what type of movie is playing on the TV as long as he has a bucket of popcorn next to him at all times

-Horror films aren’t something he can’t handle, he’s a demon like the rest of his brothers and he is used to...violent deaths and such

-He doesn’t get scared but there are times where he gets attached to the characters

-Especially movies with actual good and not cringeworthy dialogue

-Therefore, when they die, he gets sad even if they’re just fictional and their death had no real impact

-He also thinks that the way you can watch these things without flinching is impressive

-I mean, he can watch it and so can his brothers because they are demons

-They’ve done worse things than the things you see in horror films

-But you’re a human! So it’s weird to see you watch a person get repeatedly slammed against a wall until their neck snaps without batting an eyelid

-Overall, he does not have an opinion on scary movies

-He gets a bit emotional when a character he really liked dies

-But other than that, he’s just focused on eating

-And occasionally patting your head affectionately

Belphie:

-He doesn’t really like horror films because there’s a lot of screaming and tense music and he’s just trying to nap in your lap (rhyme)

-He doesn’t really need sound effects like that in the background while he’s trying to sleep

-But one day he was like “Hey, what if I show my favourite human this particular scary film?”

-And he did

-And he’s internally dying and feeling guilty and yet so flustered because of you

-It’s like you suddenly turn into this very fidgety and anxious mess and he thinks you just look....cute

-At some point you were getting overwhelmed and sprung up on your feet to turn the lights on

-And he just grabbbed your wrists, pulled you down next to him and let you press your head against his chest

-As mentioned, he’s a little shit and will tease you for being such a scaredy cat

-“That was the most predictable jumpscare and you still flinched, wth is wrong with you lmao.”

-But at the same time....

-“Relax. It’s just a horror movie. You’ll be fine. Besides, I’m here. Like I would let something bad happen to you.”

-That’s sweet, even if the tone of voice may not imply it because he’s such a brat-

-He actually really likes holding you for once, because usually he’s the little spoon

-He’s still a bit of a sadist so I imagine him sitting there and watching this while giggling to himself

-Isn’t he the cutest, laughing at other people’s misery and their never ending suffering?🥺🥺🥺 UwU

-Ah well, at least he has the decency to spoil with affection afterwards and make sure you have no nightmares that night

-You know, as payback for the horrific shit he made you watch with no warning

————————————

OK, I think I made a decent job of this even though it took longer than it actually was meant to. Thank you for reading though. I’ve got so many requests to go through and I’ve been feeling motivated lately so yeah!

See you soon

Al~

[feralaot]

AOT characters and their interests/hobbies 💞

been thinking about these a lot and wanted to share :]

no warnings

eren

collects vintage electronic things like gameboy cartridges, ataris, old nintendos, etc. I feel like he would also collect caps from energy drink cans, not for any particular reason, he just thinks they look neat

mikasa

I've mentioned this before but I'll die on the hill that she loves embroidery and sewing and makes things like scarves, hats, and gloves to donate

armin

has no shame whatsoever about being super into flowers and gardening. also likes rambling about marine biology, he was always fascinated by the sea and y'all already KNOW he'd geek about the stuff that's actually in it

connie

really likes insects! he has had several bug collections and some of his favorite decorations are framed bugs. tried to get into pc building at some point but couldnt really figure it out

jean

old music, old movies, vinyl records, etc. has several guitars both acoustic and electric and only knows a few songs on each but he just really likes collecting things and is a bit of an artist so he has sketchbooks laying everywhere. the first song he learned on electric guitar was seven nation army and he got really good at it so he played it repeatedly for weeks until connie begged him to play something else

sasha

y'all mfs already know this girl would love cooking. I also think she would really enjoy being an archery instructor and learning about various hunting methods in her spare time. she has always wanted to try catfish noodling but connie is her impulse control to not do so

historia

literally so good at makeup. doesn't even do it on herself most of the time because she likes putting it on other people. considering how tiny she is she tends to insist on sitting in someone's lap to do their makeup and y'all already know ymir is a volunteer. other than this she's also super "green" and infodumps about environmental sustainability to whoever will listen. once again, ymir

ymir

linguistics. my friend said that ymir would really enjoy studying and learning languages and honestly, hard agree. she would familiarize herself with the dialects of a language and also learn about ancient languages as well

hange

absolutely enthralled by animal biology and the way things work. takes every chance they can get to dissect something. has a collection of various animal skulls and always feels the need to tell people that no, they did not kill them themself, even though nobody asked

levi

this man would be so good at interior design. everything has a perfect aesthetic, is symmetrical, neat, has good palettes, the right furniture, everything. he'd totally talk shit about what you've done with the place

erwin

I cant explain it but he has the vibe of someone who'd be really into mythology and anatomical painting. would also probably taste test wine. a very sophisticated kind of man

reiner

once again I will die on the hill that he doesnt play sports himself but he probably really likes watching ice hockey. only bert knows this but he's also pretty good at carpentry and has built several shelves by himself that he was really proud of. a very hands-on kind of person

bertholdt

bird nerd. bird nerd. he loves birds and always feeds them. is also quite the artist and has lots of little scribbles all over his belongings. likes writing too but hasn't told anyone he writes except reiner

annie

she thought it was dumb at first but armin got her really into gardening and now they manage a garden together. he tends to the flowers and she tends to the vegetables. she also enjoys painting nature scenery, so there's a nice painting of their flower and vegetable gardens hanging up

porco and pieck

putting them together because they're pretty much the same. they both love watching unsolved true crime documentaries/videos together then infodumping to each other about their own theories. porco also really likes history and rambles about it to her whenever it comes up e.g. pointing out historical inaccuracies in films. also porco does yoga don't @ me

zeke

anthropology. I refuse to elaborate but just know I'm right. he goes to anthropology museums and absolutely geeks about everything

yelena

religious studies. need I say more

niccolo

yes he absolutely is into cooking but consider: he's also an absolute champ at pottery. he makes his own pots and jars and little mugs. in fact a lot of the indoor plants armin and annie have live in pots that niccolo made especially for them