#i phased out of it sometime in the middle but now i got sucked back in

[taikoturtle]

Mamamoo movie tickets go on sale today 👀

I have the fattiest crush on Moonbyul and I didn’t get to see them live, so hoping I can snag some tickets and watch the movie with some friends.

[saerins]

─── 𝐖𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐄

+ sae x f!reader | wc 4.9k | content: angst, fluff, some making out, implied sex, stupid teenager phase

notes: sobs this was not supposed to be this long … one of y’all need to stop me from writing about this man !! i love him too much, pls send help </3 extra: this is the song playing in the last scene :’)

summary: sae has few interests, and one of them is you. but sometimes, being special just isn’t enough.

you’ve always been special.

ever since age three when your family moved across the street from where the itoshis lived. ever since age five when you finally gathered the courage to talk to the pair of brothers. ever since age six when sae invited you to play with him and rin. ever since age seven when you cried because someone bullied you at the playground and sae wiped away your tears. ever since age ten when both of you played with paper rings. ever since age eleven when you and sae would talk endlessly at night through the phone and get nagged at by your parents when they found out.

ever since age twelve when you told sae you’d watch him become the best soccer player in the world by his side.

your presence bleeds into sae’s life and he can’t think about anything without relating it to you; like how his breakfast tastes like ass when you’re not smearing your stupid peanut butter on it because apparently peanut better goes well with everything is your phase at that point of time. like how he’s walking home and he’ll always have to crane his head to the right just to check if you’re on your front porch swing, because if you are, he’ll wave and then you’ll smile and wave back, and sae would feel like it’s a special code you two share.

you’re probably the only thing he pays his spare attention to. and rin. you, rin, soccer. that’s all.

you complain way too much, especially at the fact that sae doesn’t smile often. he counters, “that’s none of your business.”

and you tell him one day you’ll be the reason he smiles everyday.

sae thinks it’s kind of stupid though, because you already are. you just aren’t around to see it. he’ll probably never let you see it too. he wouldn’t hear the end of it if he did.

it isn’t long before you’re age fifteen and graduating middle school and you’re excited to start high school. it didn’t really make a difference for sae, as long as he got to play soccer, he really couldn’t care less.

when you’re age sixteen you tell sae that a boy from class broke your heart because he didn’t accept your valentines’ chocolates. it was as good as a rejection, apparently. or whatever girl code says it is.

frankly, sae’s just offended. you’ve never given him any valentines’ shit. all of a sudden some no name guy is getting it?

maybe it’s true what people say, teenage girls cry over stupid things they consider love that’s not actually love. now you’re getting his soccer jersey wet with your tears and you’re crooning on and on about how boys suck but somehow sae’s still the best.

you’re sixteen and crying on sae’s shoulder, while he’s seventeen and wishing he could torture the son of a bitch who made you cry.

this is the closest you’ve ever been, physically. your heart’s not really broken because whoever you’re crying about has never really had it. but sae doesn’t know that.

teenage girls make really stupid decisions sometimes. and other times, they making stupid passing comments, like when you say “glad i didn’t let him kiss me. would suck for my first kiss to be with a dick who didn’t give a shit about me.”

sometimes teenage boys make stupid decisions too.

sae doesn’t really know what possesses him to do this, but he doesn’t stop it. he doesn’t stop his hand from reaching out to you, doesn’t stop his fingers from tilting your chin up. there’s only confusion in your eyes when he looks into them. there’s only hesitation in his.

sae’s not anything to you except for a childhood friend, and you’re not anything to him, except for one of the most beautiful people he’s ever met. that’s why he does this slowly, so you have time to stop this.

he has no right to do this. he wishes you would just stop him.

you’re both teenagers when sae becomes your first kiss, when your tears stain his cheeks and he tastes like the fruits he just ate. you’re both delirious off of the feeling, like neither of you want this to end because your lips stay connected even when you’re not moving, and your lashes are fluttering against one another’s and sae really wants to kiss you again.

but it’s late and your parents are probably the ones knocking on his door right now so he stops himself and pulls away while rin bounds down the stairs to open the door.

sae sees nothing but you, you and your pretty face and your pretty lips and your perfect perfect person.

“there, now your first kiss is with a dick who does care about you.”

it’s that same summer and you’ve forgotten all about the stupid boy that supposedly broke your heart. you have sae with you whenever he’s free, when he decides to bring you out after practice and explore rooftops to find the best view for the fireworks.

you’re not together, but it sure feels like you are.

then it’s autumn and the leaves are turning orange and red, and you swear you see sae’s cheeks and ears turn nearly the same shade when he holds your hand for the first time as you walk through the park, a white cat crossing in front of you.

sae blames it on his practice earlier and that he’s tired because there’s no way he’ll ever admit it’s because of you.

when winter comes, sae’s still taking care of you. nothing stops him from playing soccer, but nothing can stop him from finding you either. sae’s starting to regret his decisions when you force him to go ice skating and look at him expectantly whenever you see a mistletoe.

you’re a lot of work, maybe you’re worth it.

and then you kiss him again and he thinks yes, maybe he can do this. he can juggle soccer and you, it’ll magically work out.

finally it’s spring and you’re excited because you love the cherry blossoms, and sae thinks maybe he loves something else but he’s not going to go there yet. and while everyone’s watching the solar eclipse that one night, sae’s watching you.

for once, he wants to believe in superstitions, wants to believe what watching the solar eclipse means.

“what’s the matter?”

you’re always so perceptive. you’d make a great playmaker, he feels.

of course you pick up on the tension, barely a minute after you walk into his room. sae doesn’t want to ruin this, whatever this is, whether it’s love or something less, or maybe something more.

but it’s not a democracy, and the answer is crystal clear in sae’s mind. his answer’s always been the same, but it’s not like you don’t exist in his world.

“the club in spain gave me an offer.”

that’s all he needs to say to make you understand. and if you weren’t the most understanding person he knows, you might’ve reacted differently, but you’re still the same supportive, kind girl he met at age four.

“when do you go?” your voice is shaky and he knows you’re trying to hold it together.

sae’s sorry, really.

“next month.”

it’s not a lot of time, but probably enough to say goodbye. then you throw your arms around him and you work your magic, you say you want to try despite the distance, despite the unknown timeline. and who is sae if not someone who’d give it a try?

he’s not even sure he can ever say no to you.

it doesn’t seem real until the night before he leaves, because you’re eighteen and standing in his near barren room, everything already packed into boxes and loaded.

maybe it’s the fact he’ll be gone for a very long time, doesn’t know when he’ll see you again. maybe it’s the adrenaline rushing through his veins when he feels you pressed up against him. maybe it’s the fact he’s denying the depth of his feelings for you and it’s getting him frustrated.

or maybe it’s because he’s selfish and he doesn’t want anyone else to have you, just like how he gave you your first kiss.

he’s your first kiss, and he’ll be your first time, with your hands clawing at his clothes. and you’ll be his, with the way he’s grabbing onto your bare back so desperately.

you’re eighteen and you think nothing’s prettier than the sounds sae makes, especially when his lips are right next to your ear, with his hot breath fanning against you.

sae’s nineteen and he thinks you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted, in all sense of the word. he thinks you look pretty in pink, still pretty when you wear nothing too.

and suddenly sae thinks that maybe it doesn’t feel so crazy to think that the both of you might make it through this.

long distance can work for some people. but sometimes it’s just meant to drive two people further away.

sae’s gaining momentum in europe, and you’re proud of him. you’re proud of your boyfriend, doing his best and showing off his talents and having his hard work pay off.

you’re really, genuinely happy for him. but the bigger of a star he is, the further away he feels, and maybe it’s selfish of you to want him here, to want him to be just your neighbour itoshi sae like how things started out.

maybe it’s selfish and wishful thinking, but you can’t help yourself.

sometimes sae doesn’t even have time to look at his phone. he’s tired and overwhelmed and understandably too. and you feel guilty everytime you subject him to your insecurities.

but you’re nineteen and you don’t know better.

rin’s not much fun to hang around with, especially when he got more stoic and awkward. he’s like a mirror of his brother, and that may fool a lot of people, except you knew him before that. but you’re not going to butt your head in things that don’t concern you, so you leave him be.

and suddenly the itoshis seem further away than they’ve ever been. for the first time in your life, you’re not sure if trying will be enough anymore.

sae misses you. that’s whenever he has the free time to think, when he’s not hounded by trainings after trainings, when he’s not busy from day to night with whatever new training regime they’ve got him on.

is he aware that he’s probably being the world’s worst boyfriend now? yes. but sae can’t force himself to choose that over his dreams. can’t force himself not to choose soccer.

[17:08] she’s fine, idk what you’re worried about.

rin’s message doesn’t alleviate his worries. sae knows you better than anyone, and he doesn’t believe you’re fine.

[08:08] hey sae :)

[17:34] going to bed now, gn!! &lt;3

sae stares at your message for a while in the locker room, while everyone else is showering. you’ve cooled off on the pet names, you’re worried you’re overstepping. you’re worried he’s lost his feelings.

he’s not.

he’d be crazy to.

but he can’t find the energy to convince himself that this would turn out fine. he can’t convince himself that he’s not hurting you every single day by not being able to be everything you need, by not being able to be physically there for you.

this half-assed relationship isn’t what you deserve. and where he is right now, with his bird’s eye view of the world, he doesn’t know if he can ever give you anything else.

[17:49] goodnight. call you tomorrow.

the moment sae breaks up with you, you feel like that kid at sixteen all over again, except this time you don’t have your favourite person’s shoulder to cry on and this time it’s actually love.

all you can think of when you hear him pick up the phone is that morning right before he left for the airport, how his hair’s a mess and how his lashes are way too pretty and how he sounded when he’s all groggy and tired.

but then he tells you the one thing you do not want to hear, and the illusion is shattered into pieces.

“this isn’t working out.”

“what are you talking about?” he’s silent, and you’re anxious. “we’re fine, sae.”

you can hear him sighing over the phone. you so desperately want to fix this, and so does sae but he can’t think of anything more selfish than to ask you to wait for him until he’s ready—he knows what’s the right thing to do. it sucks, but he’s made up his mind.

“that’s bullshit, y/n,” he responds, calmly, and you feel him slipping further and further from you.

“i- look, i-i know it’s hard but we can—”

“give it a break, woman,” sae chuckles, low and deep, and you’re beginning to doubt that you know him at all right now. “we’re done.”

the dial tone is all you can hear after that.

twenty years old is where you have your first actual heartbreak.

and all that talk about how time heals all feels like bullshit when you’re right in the middle of it all. five days in and you’re still a wreck. twenty days later and you’re still staring at the pictures you and sae took together. a month passes and you’re visiting the places you went to together. just a sad, pathetic girl crying on the benches, reliving what she once had.

three months later you’re still watching his matches on tv. you’re still cheering for him inside. four months later and it’s sae’s birthday and he doesn’t even respond to your birthday message. half a year after the breakup and you finally stop crying when you think of him.

but it’s easy to delude yourself when you’re not in the presence of what you grieve. because eight months after you broke up, you see reports that sae’s dating a sports photographer. the next few days, a picture is released of them kissing in a restaurant.

then you get glimpses of other girls being able to be intimate with him. other girls getting to taste his lips and feel his love. other girls getting his attention when that right used to solely belong to you.

and you’ve never felt worse.

“why so glum?”

sae blinks at the woman, indifferent. he can’t even remember her name.

“nadia,” she says, like she’s reading his goddamn mind, holding her hand out. “i’ve been your team’s photographer for a few months now.”

sae shakes her hand out of courtesy because he really doesn’t want his publicist to chew him out again. “didn’t ask.”

“you know, you’re a lot more crabby these days,” she comments, and it’s like he can see the lightbulb going off in her head. “oh, is it girlfriend issues?”

“i don’t have one, so shut it.”

“come on, i promise i’m good at making people forget.” she says this so seductively that sae’s a little disturbed. he just wants to get this shoot done with and go home, maybe even check up on you a little. all in incognito mode, of course, because he can’t risk you knowing he still cares. can’t risk getting your hopes up.

somehow the stars have spent all their time aligning sae’s soccer career and everything else is in tatters because his publicist forces him to take nadia up on her offer and go out with her.

what was supposed to be a one time thing turned out to be something more. she wasn’t even close to you, but she could be close. turns out when he’s not being such a dick, nadia can be moderately interesting.

different, maybe that’s what he needs.

he thinks back to when she kissed him on their first date. sae still finds himself hoping you didn’t see that.

but no, he’s not in love with you anymore. sae’s officially an adult at twenty-one and he’s still the same stubborn guy in denial because he’s looking at pictures of you while nadia’s sitting right next to him.

it’s not healthy, it really isn’t.

you’re twenty-one now and you’re actually going on a date with the sole intention of trying to get over the one and only itoshi sae.

can you even trust your friend? all you know is that the guy is a friend of a best friend’s and that’s all she told you.

“my best friend’s a good guy, so by extension, so is his best friend,” was all she said.

now you’re here, at the amusement park, waiting for your date to show himself because apparently, in your friend’s bid for suspense, she was reluctant to share anything about him except that he’s dreamy and pretty and that his friend describes him as a genius.

and also “oh, he’s a soccer player too so that’s right up your alley, right?”

when the call from date guy comes in (because to stop you from profiling your date she also didn’t give you his name), you kind of like his voice.

“hey, where are you?”

you find out his name is nagi. and that he’s only here because reo stole his switch and he won’t give it back until the date’s over. which kind of works because you tell him you’re only here because you wanted to get over someone.

to which he says it’s a hassle.

there’s nothing you expect out of this, but then you find yourself enjoying your date.

it’s clear by the first fifteen minutes why nagi chose this place to meet. he’s absurdly good at games. he’s won you tons of plushies that you had to give away to some very happy kids. it’s a pattern; every game that he doesn’t know, he only loses once and then he proceeds to dominate.

no wonder his friend calls him a genius.

with nagi it’s easy, fluid. you’ve been spending the whole night there with him, playing together and eating together—well, mostly it’s just you feeding nagi because it turns out he finds a lot of things a hassle.

three days later, you find out that apparently you’re not a hassle in his books. not really, because he asks you out again.

it’s irrational.

sae shouldn’t be this bothered, but he is. he hates seeing your stupid updates about how you’re on a date with this nagi guy. he hates seeing your posts with the two of you wearing matching sweaters for christmas.

he gives it a like.

nadia’s already gone. sae doesn’t have time or energy to waste on people that don’t matter. and you shouldn’t matter. not right now. but here he is, wishing the circumstances were different.

if you and nadia switched places. if you had something to bring you to spain. it’s fucking selfish, he knows. doesn’t stop him from wishing for it. he can’t think of anyone else like how he thinks of you. doesn’t want to.

he really is clueless about everything outside of soccer, because he’s twenty-two when he realises that no one could ever make him forget about you, and maybe he should just live with it.

sae turns twenty-three when he’s in the running for being the world’s best midfielder. he’s gotten rid of the hopes of moving on and he’ll just fake it till he makes it.

maybe that’s why this year is particularly special to him. or maybe it’s because for the first time in a long while, you wish him happy birthday.

at midnight, in japan. because you’re thoughtful that way.

this time he responds.

thanks. how r u?

it’s criminal how easy it is for you to get his heart beating like this. he sees you typing and it’s enough to lift his mood.

great, school’s kicking my ass though.

sae finds himself wishing that he could hear your voice right now. for some stupidly non-complex reason that he finds completely absurd.

i saw your match last week, good game, genius.

fuck. after all this time, he still wants you.

his fingers type i miss you, just for the hell of it. just to see it there on his screen before he inevitably deletes it and replaces it with something mediocre like thanks or i know.

because he can’t just say that after being the one who broke things off. he can’t do that when he still thinks it won’t work out.

all he does is sigh and hit the delete button—except fuck, he accidentally hit send. and he would’ve deleted it if you weren’t already online and read it and he sees you typing for a moment before you stop completely and go offline.

sae has never felt more numb.

it’s been three months since sae said he missed you. you still can’t get that out of your head. the most upfront he’s been about his feelings and he chooses then of all times to be honest?

when your boyfriend was right beside you?

maybe it was your fault. you didn’t even know why you wished him a happy birthday. maybe you missed him too and was just lying to yourself.

god, maybe you’re the asshole in this after all. did you really love nagi? or was he just exceptionally well at making you forget? you really really like him, that’s all you know.

“hey, what’s wrong?” nagi’s looking at you, pushing his hair back, and you can’t help but think you’re lucky to have him these past few months.

but the turmoil inside you wins, and maybe you understand a little bit of how sae felt that night when he broke up with you.

it’s not fair to nagi for you to do this, but it’s not fair to him either to keep him around.

“we need to talk.”

it’s a surreal feeling, to be back in japan.

sae was nineteen when he left. now he’s twenty-seven when he breathes the tokyo air again. he lugs around his carry-on baggage because he’s not staying here for long. not yet. he’s coming back soon, and he doesn’t really know why. he’s milked everything he could from spain, from the rest of europe, some of the americas, and maybe he’s homesick now.

plain and simple.

the cab driver asks him why he looks so sharp, and he simply says, “wedding.”

it’s been seven years since he broke up with you. and your grip on him is as firm as ever. a grip he’ll never let you know you have on him because he’s made this mistake before—said i miss you and then scared you away.

by the next day he couldn’t even find you online because everything is wiped and maybe you hate him, hate his guts. that’s fine. he can live with that.

to him, you’re still the same lovable person as you were at age five. still the same girl at age sixteen that he fell in love with. you’re still his person and it’s fine if he has to just admire you from afar.

when he arrives, he takes a long hard look around the room, filled with guests socialising and drinking their wines and it’s so pathetic but he’s wondering if you’re still around. he’s late, and it’s his plane’s fault but it’s no use playing the blame game.

“hey,” rin calls out when he sees his brother. “you missed the ceremony.”

“yeah, stupid plane got delayed,” sae says, mind still distracted.

rin formally introduces his new wife to sae and she seems nice, polite, the kind that can put his brother in his place if she needs to. that’s nice. sae can’t help envisioning you in the wedding dress though. you’d look nice.

nicer if he was the one beside you.

“oh! as a gift to my now brother-in-law, i have a friend i want to set you up with,” she grins, and as much of an ass that sae is, he just figures he’ll reject the poor girl later. for now, he’ll entertain his new sister-in-law.

rin claps him on the shoulder before smirking and walking off, presumably to get a drink because no matter how much rin has changed, sae doubts he’ll ever become friendly enough to mingle in this crowd.

sae feels someone poking his shoulder and turns around, first to find his sister-in-law grinning from ear to ear, and next to find you next to her, just like he remembers.

pretty in pink, stupid bashful smile, still fucking beautiful.

“have fun,” rin’s wife says before she walks off with a knowing look. she’s already winning points with sae for bringing you to him.

“hey, genius,” you try to suppress your smile but it’s not working.

he thinks he’s dreaming. he’s not. he’s here. and so are you. and this might just be what he missed all this time.

you hold your hand out and he takes it wordlessly, obediently. sae follows you to the dance floor, trying to calm his erratic heartbeats, savouring the feeling of your hand in his once again, remembering that moment back in autumn when he first felt it.

when you wrap your hands around his neck and he wraps his around your waist, it feels like finally, something is real. like there’s something in this country that can really keep him here this time. because now he’s twenty-seven and he finally understands, he’s always loved you but he’s never been ready until now.

“can’t believe you let your brother get married before you,” you say, sarcasm because you’re breaking into a grin. “he actually beat you at something.”

sae pouts slightly, averting his gaze. “what’s the big deal anyway?”

you shrug. “i’d have thought you’d be the first. maybe with one of the girls you met abroad or something.”

there’s a certain bitterness in your tone that he likes, only because it means you minded all this time. the thought of him with someone else. he suddenly remembers something, and searches the room for a familiar face.

gray eyes meet his teal ones before they turn away, disinterested.

“you sure your boyfriend won’t mind you dancing with your ex?”

“probably not, since i don’t have one.” you smirk, sensing the bitterness in his tone too. it’s funny, seeing sae jealous like this.

he has no reason to though, since you broke up with nagi after being honest with yourself—that you’re not over sae and you probably never will be. you’d decided to just live with your decision.

“shame. thought you guys looked cute in those matching sweaters.”

so that was a jealous like, you think to yourself.

“thought you looked cute with that sports photographer girl too, kissing and all,” you say, though it leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. “why didn’t that work out?”

for the first time in his life, sae decides to be outright honest with you—

“because she’s not you.” because everytime she said his name, he’d overlay it with your voice in his head. because everytime she’d tried to get close, he’d resent her more for not being you. because no matter how hard anyone tries, they will never be you and that will never work, not for sae.

—to a certain degree.

he’s twenty-seven when he’s finally old enough to understand that it was never a problem with feelings because he’s always loved you all the same all this time. it was just a matter of being ready at the right time. it’s like luck in the world of soccer, where coincidences can only fall to those who are prepared.

and he’s here now. he’s ready.

call him crazy for thinking you’re on the same page because you’re getting closer and closer and closer.

“itoshi sae,” you whisper his name against his lips and he’s reminded of the first time he had you. you drive him crazy and he thinks he’ll keep on letting you. “i missed you too.”

you did. you used to be too young and inexperienced to put yourself in sae’s shoes. too young and naive thinking emotions were enough for two people to stay. sometimes, some things just aren’t meant to be… in the moment. and other times, when you’re both ready, everything suddenly falls into place.

you were sixteen when sae first kissed you. now ten years later, ten years wiser, you kiss again, and this feels significantly better than before. because now you both know.

sae has known you ever since you were three. and he thinks he’ll keep on knowing you, every day, every hour, every minute. he wants to know you forever. and he’s thinking maybe that superstition worked out after all. maybe it was destined to be like this all along.

two people coming together and falling apart only to end up in each other’s arms.

and he thinks fuck superstition, fuck the white cats and solar eclipses and everything else. even if things threaten not to work, this time he’ll make it work.

sae’s known you for so long he overlooked one simple thing. when he kisses you even deeper and is greeted with your lips smiling against his, he knows.

he hasn’t become the world’s best soccer player yet, but when he does, you’ll be by his side.

one day those paper rings the both of you played with when you were little would be real.

you’ve always been special, and you always will be.

now he’s finally home.

[badchoicesworld]

hello hello hi ! i hope you're doing well ! may i request a miles!42 and hobie with like a butterfly mutated reader (masc) ? ironically he's more bug than beauty and has alot of features that he tries to hide (antennae, long ears and :3 mouth that opens up to a long tongue to suck up food ? he has teeth too but theyre sharp with fangs in the splatoon inkling way. skin is like a bug's sort of hard and exoskeletonly and bro is just really fluffy. like his wrists and neck have fluff)

reader is a result of like a weird science experiment gone wrong so he sort of feels like an alien trying to fit in whenever his features pop out. he just wants to live an ordinary life but somehow keeps on gettinh pulled in the middle of every superhero fight there is :'). also ! ARTKIDDD

im sorry if the req got really specific to work w aha :') hope you have a good one !

hobie brown and miles42 with butterfly mutated boyfriends !

huge fan of these mutated readers, i am however a tmnt man so (i fuckin see you btw, my most active friend and that tmnt blog)

separate, established relationships

warnings: nah

pairing: hobie brown x masc!reader, miles morales!42 x masc!reader

requests: check out my guide/masterlist

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

we all know hobie’s a massive fan of making a statement, so he thinks that you look absolutely incredible with your mutation

will likely go through a phase of insisting you should embrace it and flaunt it, he’s gotta be told a few times that you just wanna live an ordinary life

sounds a little boring to him, but whatever suits you, y’know?

he’s not the guy to go to however for tips on how to blend in, do not ask

you’ve got a butterfly mutation, he’s got a spider mutation- he calls you the bug boys sometimes when he’s feeling hyped up and you can feel how you wanna feel about that

if you ever tell him about your mutation, about the experiments and such, it just fuels hobie’s habit of antagonising authority n all that

you’re like walking proof of the government taking advantage of the people through the systems they put in place to protect them but in reality are just some form of propaganda to give the public false hope and sense of security

yeah, hobie wasn’t surprised when you told him

not too pressed over it either since it’s been and done, no point in getting worked up over something thats irreversible and apart of you now

feels disrespectful to even feel bad to a degree

of course he feels bad that you were experimented on, but he’s not gonna say anything about your actual mutation

does however have something inappropriate to say about ur tongue im sorry

yknow what hard skins good for ? drawing on, let him please

yknow what fluff around you ur neck and wrists is great for ? hobie and his desperation for contact, ur mad comfy dawg

he likes to wear his studded collars and wrist bands in the same places as your fur sometimes, matching innit

hobie absolutely recognised how badly you want to have an ordinary life, so can honestly empathise and sympathise when you somehow manage to find yourself sucked into every super scrap in the city

he can try diverge the fights, but can’t promise a thing since they tend to be unpredictable

hobie’s plenty happy to diverge from large crowds with you if it helps you stick out less, he’ll navigate for the two of you and somehow come up with insane routes to get to where you need to be

will diy you clothes tailored to your mutation, shirts with holes in the back for your wings just so they don’t have to be uncomfortably folded under clothes n stuff

miles42

i feel like with society going up in flames, standing out is something you generally wanna avoid in earth42, just doesn’t seem so safe

so miles definitely goes the extra mile (ha) to make sure you’re not gonna stick out too much

if you’re smaller than him he’ll for sure lend you certain things to wear if they cover you up well enough, he knows just about every nook and cranny in the city to hide in whenever your features decide to make a guest appearance

like if you’re ever just walking down a street then your antenna poke out, he’s very fast to act and doesn’t make a big deal out of it

now you either just chill in an alley together or start making your way home through the intricate backstreets miles can effortlessly navigate

he appreciates your mutation though, it’s one of them things that he can silently admire and daydream about instead of worrying about the future

realistically ? you could be a result of a really shitty human experiment gone wrong at oscorp, god knows they can take advantage of the people without a spider-man to protect them

if you ever reveal this to miles, he’s obviously upset, but it’s probably predicted at this point

i imagine in his universe that they’re a force to be reckoned with

asks his mum to make things for you sometimes, to help you feel better about your appearance and to help hide certain features that you wanna

can completely understand your desire to want an ordinary life, he does too

he’ll help you achieve it, it’s one of his dreams and he can only hope to share it

your mutation takes time to get used to but it gets to the point where miles simply won’t bat an eye at your mutation, he treats you like any other person in the world except he loves you- wants so badly for you to feel normal if that’s what you want

in the least condescending way he will insist from time to time for you to stay home, just for your own safety if he starts to notice a particular rise in stats

he completely understands your desire to just blend in, but it’s not worth it if you’re genuinely at risk

he gets into the habit of doodling butterfly features on scraps of paper, on the back of his hand during classes- you’re on his mind a lot

says that he’s indifferent towards ur fluff but then he’ll fix it up for you after putting a shirt on and it’s a lil outta sorts

★⋆ ⋆☆⋆ ☠︎︎ ⋆☆⋆⋆★✧

sorry this is kinda brief and not great, i’ve been out of it for the longest time but i’m tryna provide 💪💪

[mystwrites]

woohooo 200 followers!! you deserve every single one of them let's goooo 🖤🖤

for your event may i request platonic ler ranpo and lee jun’ichiro with 🥝 and 🎮 please? feel free to decline if you don't feel like writing it <3

ily drink lots of water and also how many requests are allowed asking for a friend ♡

My 200 Followers Event is still Open!!

It had been Ranpo’s idea to host a sleepover at his place. By some miracle gifted by the gods, the world’s greatest detective had also managed to convince Kunikida to join their idea of a boys night. As if a switch was flipped, Kunikida’s normally serious demeanor while still evident due to Dazai’s presence lessened as the night wore on…but it could’ve been due to the fact that for some odd reason, they all didn’t need to report to the office until the late afternoon.

They all stayed up rather late watching a few movies, making horrendous attempts to tell scary stories and play games. A little after midnight, Atsushi and Kenji passed out, then Kunikida and Junichiro followed before Ranpo fell asleep. The last to sleep was of course Dazai and all was quiet.

At six in the morning, Ranpo and Junichiro both woke up, looking at each other and back to the others who were still sleeping. Despite having most of the day off, the two both knew they wouldn’t be able to lull themselves back to sleep and got off of their futons and began to freshen up.

It was an unanimous decision that they wanted to keep themselves busy rather than lying in bed until everyone awoke. Ranpo quickly whipped out his Nintendo Switch and led Junichiro out into the living room, teaching him the mechanics of how Super Smash Bros worked. Within the next hour, the sun rose but the two were in the middle of an intense battle.

“C’mon…c’mon…AAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

“HAHA!! Tanizaki what are you doing?!”

“NOOOOO!! I FELL OFF THE EDGE!!!!”

“Hehehhee! If you keep screaming like that, you’ll wake up the others!“

Junichiro furrowed his brows as his character of Yoshi respawned, understanding that Ranpo was right. If he was screaming, Atsushi and Kunikida would wake up due to the two being relatively light sleepers.

His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the controller. Ranpo was too damn good at Super Smash Bros for his liking. They were going for another few minutes before Junichiro landed a good blow to Ranpo’s character. Grinning, Junichiro continued to smash the buttons on his controller as he approached Ranpo.

“I’ve gotcha now!” he snickered, attempting to get Ranpo’s character stuck in the egg.

Ranpo wasn’t very phased. In fact, he was as cool as a cucumber, aware of how this would play out. His feet were kicked up on the table towards the left of his Switch set whileJunichiro was stiff, hunched over and anxious, his fingers frantically slamming down on the buttons he needed to press.

As if on cue, Junichiro let out a victorious “HA” as he tried to use his egg skill to trap his formidable opponent only to trap himself within the egg during the process. Letting out a squeak of shock, Junichiro tried to escape but ended up jumping and trapping himself in the egg once more, now tumbling off of the ledge.

“OH NOOOOOOO!!!!” Junichiro screamed, suddenly jumping up and down on the couch, his shock causing him to laugh at the situation. “DAMMIT!!”

“DUDE!!” Ranpo wheezed, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. “How’d that happen?!?”

“I DON’T KNOW!!! I WAS SO CLOSE!!!” Junichiro cried, pulling at his sweating face.

“Wow! You really suck.” Ranpo commented, Junichiro shaking his head in astonishment. Sometimes he still can’t fathom Ranpo’s brutal honesty.

“Jeez, thanks Ranpo san…” Junichiro grumbled, growling as he grabbed the controller. “Again!! C’mon! Again! I will beat you this time!!”

“Mm.” Ranpo hummed, waving his lollipop around before sticking it back in his mouth. “Not when you’re this pissed off.”

Junichiro glared. “Again! Let’s go!!”

Ranpo turned and analyzed the situation. He didn’t need his special ability. He knew from one look that Junichiro was frustrated as well as determined to win. Junichiro was very dedicated to his craft if he took the time to focus but Ranpo knew there’d be no way to really win if he was already this worked up after two rounds.

“I know!” Ranpo giggled, raising a finger into the air and wiggling it around. “How about we take a break?”

The redhead whipped his head to face his friend in the glasses. “Hell no! C’mon! Let’s go one more time!”

Ranpo let out a clicking noise and shook his head. Junichiro watched as the world’s best detective fixed his glasses, adjusted his hat, put his lollipop back in the wrapper and rolled his sleeves up.

“HAAA!”

The sudden sensation of skittering fingers traveled up Junichiro’s sides. Fully aware that he was deathly ticklish, Junichiro squealed and started to scuffle backwards in an attempt to escape Ranpo’s sudden tickle attack.

“Hey!! Wait! Ranpo san!” Junichiro cried, his cheeks burning red.

“C’mon, Tanizaki! I know ya wanna laugh!~” Ranpo teased, slowly teasing his friend’s sides. “Hmm…I think Atsushi kun’s more ticklish than you are…”

A giggle escaped from Junichiro. “Mahaybe you just suck ahahat this!”

A new expression filled Ranpo’s face and Junichiro nervously smiled, his hands raising in surrender before he was suddenly attacked. The tickling now wasn’t only along his sides, but all across his stomach, under his arms, along the sides of his neck, anywhere Ranpo could reach.

“No! Ahaha! I tahahake it back!! C-cohohome on! Ahahaha! Rahahanpo sahahan!!”

“Say uncle!~”

“N-no! NOOHOHO! N-NOT THEHEHERE!!”

Ranpo’s eyes glistened with excitement as he heard those words. That means he must’ve found a good spot. Eyeing out Junichiro’s hips, Ranpo smirked.

“Not there? What about here?~” Ranpo grabbed Junichiro’s waist and grinned at the shriek that escaped. “And here? Ooh! Let’s go here!”

Howling with laughter, Junichiro shook his head, his face bright red as Ranpo targeted his most ticklish spots. His hips and ribs were bombarded with the gentlest of touches and the most ticklish vibrations one could imagine. Laughing hysterically, Junichiro squirmed and flailed, desperate to escape this predicament.

“RAHAHANPO SAHAHAN!! AHAHAA! IHIHIT HUHUHURTS!! IHIHI CAHAHAN’T!! STOP IT!!” Junichiro screamed, kicking and flailing as best as he could.

“Are you gonna take a break?” Ranpo asked, continuing to tickle Junichiro’s hips and ribs.

“Y-YEHEHEHES!! AHAHAHAA I CAHAHAN’T!! RAHAHANPO SAN PLEASE!! STOP!”

With Junichiro now wheezing, Ranpo slowed his tickling fingers to a stop. Looking down, he smirked at his friend who was curled up into a tight ball and breathing heavily.

“You ready to take a break?” he asked, patting Junichiro’s shoulder.

“N-nooooo!!!” Junichiro whined. “C’mon Ra-AHAHAHAA NOOO!! NO WAIT! PLEASE!!”

“I said to take a break!” Ranpo chastised, placing his hands on Junichiro’s ribs once more. “Or do you want more tickling?~”

“N-no!! No more!!” Junichiro begged, finally giving in. “I-I’ll take a break!!”

Removing his hands, Ranpo happily clapped and shoved his lollipop back in his mouth.

“Good!” he exclaimed.

“Ughhh! I’ll get you next time!” Junichiro growled.

“In exchange for a truce in this video game war, how about we go and bother the others who are still sleeping?” Ranpo suggested, gesturing that he intended to do some face drawings on them.

Junichiro smirked, upon realizing that the others slept through all the screaming and laughing. He grabbed the two sharpies that were in the pencil box and handed one to the detective.

“Kunikida san might blow a fuse if we draw on him so let’s not get him.”

“Good idea! Ooh! Dazai! Let’s give Dazai a mustache, big round glasses and big bushy eyebrows!”

“And give Atsushi cat whiskers and Kenji can get a monocle and a goatee!!”

Laughing evilly, the two high fived and began to tiptoe into the guest room with the sleeping victims. Their video game war was long forgotten, replaced by their desire to cause a little bit of mischief.

A/N: Thank you so much for this request Rey!! I loved writing for Ranpo and Junichiro ☺️Fun fact, the Super Smash thing I wrote actually happened to me back in high school😅👍🏼

[aortaplatinum]

Why Sonic sucked in the second half of the 2010s

-A lot of this second post is speculation based on what I've seen on The Cutting Room Floor, heard in interviews, and pieced together myself. Japanese studios are notoriously tight-lipped, so it's hard to get a clear and definitive picture of what happened, but this seems to be the likely story.-

Do I really have to talk about Sonic Lost World? It's so immensely boring and poorly tuned, I nearly forgot to mention it in either of these posts. TL;DR SonicTeam scrapped the successful and popular boost formula gameplay to try to copy Super Mario Galaxy almost 10 years after it released. The game sucked and the story and script sucked, but that's just down to SonicTeam forgetting to take their brain pills every morning during the planning phase of development.

What I REALLY want to talk about is Sonic BOOM. Finally realizing that it's almost exclusively the Western world that cares about Sonic, SEGA partnered with the newly-founded studio Big Red Button to begin development on Sonic Synergy. Founded by ex-Naughty Dog developers in 2007, they seemed to be the perfect team to reinvent Sonic specifically for North American audiences.

And they probably were, but we'll never know, because of what happened next...

In the early 2010s, SEGA signed on with French animation studio OuiDo! productions to begin work on an unrelated animated comedy Sonic TV series, Sonic BOOM. At this point, SEGA seem to have had a really stupid version of a Jimmy Neutron Brain Blast, and decided, "Hey, what if we combined both the Big Red Button and OuiDo! projects into one thing? And made the video game a tie-in with the animated series!" So SEGA goes to Big Red Button, who were in the middle of developing Sonic Synergy with their own lore, characters, and world, and who already had enough developed to create an internal trailer for higher-ups and investors and SEGA goes in and is like "Hey all this Lyric and Ancients and time travel stuff is real neat but we're gonna need you to overhaul the FUCK out of it and make it like THIS instead aight have fun assholes were gonna go blow our Yakuza money on some other stupid shit." [paraphrasing]

This overhaul and combination then lead into another new idea- that Sonic BOOM should be an entire separate sub-franchise of Sonic the Hedgehog, complete with toys and comic books and all the other merch that comes along with a plan like this. So, Sonic Synergy was renamed to Sonic BOOM Rise of Lyric, and BRB took what they already had and crammed OuiDo!'s tone into it while also removing their own lore from the game.

You may have noticed that despite sharing a name, there's VERY little crossover between Sonic BOOM Rise of Lyric, and Sonic BOOM the TV series. Most of the characters are in both, but Lyric is only in RoL and Eggman's island fortress is only in the TV series. It's very obvious in hindsight that the game and the TV series were two separate things that were mashed together during development of both.

Now, sometime during the development of Sonic BOOM, SEGA signed another deal, this time with Nintendo. This was an exclusivity deal, an agreement to make the next three Sonic games exclusive to the Nintendo platforms of the time, the Wii U and 3DS. The first of these was Sonic Lost World, and the second was Mario and Sonic at the Rio 2016 Olympic Games. But it seems SEGA didn't even have a third game planned, because instead of working on something specifically for Wii U, they went BACK to Big Red Button and were like "Yo I see you got this running on Xbox One or some shit Imma need you to put it on the Game and Wario machine instead lmao have fun" [paraphrasing]

So, working with Nintendo to quickly port Rise of Lyric onto a console it wasn't designed for, running on a modified version of CryEngine, which the Wii U wasn't natively compatible with, Big Red Button got Sonic BOOM Rise of Lyric out the door and promptly exited console video game development. Visiting their site now, you can see that they went into VR games.

The DISASTROUS financial performance of Rise of Lyric- a half finished game retrofitted with another team's vision and then forced onto hardware that shouldn't have been able to even boot it- severely damaged the Sonic BOOM franchise's reputation right out the gate, which in turn hampered TV ratings, and since no one was watching the TV series, no one was buying the merch. And to add on top of that, Cartoon Network, the channel airing Sonic BOOM in the US, has always judged a series' "success" on merch sales. So since no one was buying "Here comes the BOOM" t-shirts or Sonic BOOM birthday party paper plates, CN shifted BOOM around to different, weird time slots until finally offloading it onto their sister channel, Boomerang, where it died after two seasons. Everything went wrong because of SEGA's short-sightedness and their willingness to fuck over the game development team they were working with. This was a MASSIVE, multi-faceted plan with dozens of projects holding up other projects, and it was an unabashed financial failure.

Needless to say, this cost SEGA Sammy Holdings as a whole likely BILLIONS OF DOLLARS. Because Sonic had lost them so much money, there was very little money to invest back into Sonic. This lead to the Sonic drought, as it's been called by the community, where for years, no new major Sonic stuff released. We had a few mobile games and some limited physical releases of the Sonic BOOM TV series and that was about it. Sonic as a whole was just coasting on what was already made for BOOM, and trying to recoup their losses by any means necessary. The 3DS game, Sonic BOOM Shattered Crystal, seemed to sell decently, because it DID get a sequel in Sonic BOOM Fire and Ice, which DID tie in directly with characters and storylines from the TV series, but at that point, it was already far too late.

Embarrassed, financially hurting, and in need of a safe win, SEGA went back to SonicTeam, and had them start work on updating the Hedgehog Engine used in Unleashed and Generations, and start work on Sonic Forces- and that's why Forces sucks. It was a safe-bet "PLEASE make us money" project that tried to appeal to everyone and inevitably wound up as a massive disappointment to everyone, because only SEGA knew what Forces really was meant to be. Sonic Mania was made for the same reason, it was a "oh God we have no cash, hire the cheap fans-turned-developers to make a nostalgia bait 2D pixel Sonic game" situation. Since Mania promised so much less and delivered on those promises though, it was VERY well-received. These two "life raft" projects together started to get SEGA and Sonic out of their financial pit, which in turn, gave them the leverage to bounce between a few different American movie studios to try to shop around the Sonic movie as a pitch, and to begin development on Sonic's first open world game, Sonic Frontiers.

In interviews, Frontiers is cited as being a "last chance" for SonicTeam during development. While this may sound harsh, it may have been that SEGA just didn't have faith in the franchise as a whole anymore, so the movie and Frontiers were to be potentially the final Sonic projects.

But I don't need to tell you how wrong SEGA was about this :D

[discocannon8002]

here’s a little story for you, I need to just vent something that happened, so…

tw: being talked about behind back, brief sh/harmful stimming, self depreciation, lots of angst and not much fluff if any.

if there are ANY tw I missed. Please please please tell me, even if it’s not a common one, you probably aren’t the only one with the trigger. Anyways enjoy!

Lily is my sister the not real life name I’ve chosen for her THERE MIGHT BE A PART TWO if you guys want a fluffier resolution I can write that but this one for venting sake is just mainly if not purely angst.

summary: Bee realizes that her sister might not be as happy or close with her as she thought when she overhears something she says to a friend.

Maybe I was wrong

I’m on a youth group retreat with my church right now. I’m happy because we all chose the restaurant I wanted to go to, chili’s. Of course, if I had full control over where we went, it would’ve been Chick-fil-a, but out of the options I had I’m happy with the decision.

were staying in a rented cabin type house. It’s huge, but the only closed doors are closets and bathrooms and the master bedroom. Everything else is right out in the open. There are six sets of stairs, I counted myself, but two lead to the garage so if you’re already inside you only have to climb four to get to the girls bunk room. There are no bunk beds, so I don’t understand why it’s called that, but it has so many beds. We still had to share one bed between two people. Me and Evie shared a bed at a sleepover already so we were the ones who shared the bed. Going back to the stairs, the last set is a spiral with small steps. It’s rickety and to me terrifying to climb. I can do it, though. I sort of have to just suck it up and push through my slight fear of heights.

this time though, Lily’s friend, Sophie, is trying to go down as I go up. I panic, and since I’m elevated I can’t communicate that I want her to stay upstairs until I get up because it’s already terrifying to climb this spiral without two across. So she comes down and I just hug the pillar in the middle of the spiral and let out one of my unhappy vocal stims.

“are you okay?” She asks when she gets down, seeming worried and even after I tell her that, yes, I’m fine, she still keeps asking because she’s worried.

I head downstairs and out the front door after grabbing my bag, we choose cars and I choose the more spacious one, with Lily, Sophie and Evie. I’m happily enjoying the view out the car window, until I catch a snippet of Lily’s conversation with Sophie.

“she’s always like that, it’s like it’s 24/7. But less at school.”

I hear these words and immediately know who they’re about: me. I can put the pieces together, Sophie was probably telling Sammy something about what happened when I freaked out on the stairs, and Lily got annoyed with me. Still, I thought Sammy and I were on better terms than she thinks, which I now know.

the last thing she’d done that had really hurt me was this summer, and since then I thought she had been done with whatever phase my mom said she was going through. Maybe I was wrong, maybe I’m still not good enough. Does she talk about me this way to other friends too?

but does my autism really bother her this much? I mean I know I don’t mask at home. That’s because I trust them because I trust Lily. Because I trusted they’d not judge me, because I felt safe stimming in front of them. But maybe I should stop if Lily is that bothered by it. Maybe I should mask more around her.

I tear up and try to stop myself by digging my nails into my legs and telling myself to stop caring about what she thinks of she’ll just tear me apart like this in front of her friends who I love and really don’t want to only know the bad parts about me.

it’s like this off and on up until the restaurant, a never ending cycle of me trying to convince myself to not care what she thinks and not to cry and show her that she got to me and stimming that sometimes hurts because that hurt stops me from crying.

[talltoontales]

<-On a Dime->

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

[Story 27 || Week 24]

Written: 06/10/2024

Prompt: "Kaboom" went the costal banana factory. "Splash" went the dozens of radioactive bananas as they landed in the ocean.

Prompt By: r/Accomplished_Dot9224 (Reddit)

[This is a story in the world of "Time to Spare" (02/17/2024)]

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

"Some days, I really don't like being a superhero."

// // // // // // // // // //

You walk onto the rooftop. You see Luke Arling, A.K.A. the hero Streak, in his civilian clothes sitting on the edge of the roof halfway through a six pack of orange sodas. Luke hands you a soda as you take a seat next to him.

Now, don't get me wrong. Beating the baddies, helping people, fighting the good fight, I'm always down for. I've also been doing this for a couple of years now, and I know that sometimes the bad guys win one, and people get hurt. Those days definitely suck, but that's the gig. Gotta take the good with the bad.

But sometimes, it feels like I'm the only normal guy out here, relatively speaking. Most heroes are either in life-or-death mode twenty-four-seven, on a gloom-and-doom carousel, or kind of an asshole.

If I had a dollar for every time I had to meet someone for a team-up on a windy or rainy rooftop in the middle of the night, I'd have to start putting it on my taxes. And they always do that thing where once they're done with the conversation, they just disappear.

Side note, I can go from Miami to New York City in about thirty minutes, give or take. Yet, I still have no idea how I lose track of some of these guys.

No joke! One time, I had to team up with Spades for a high-profile villain situation. Reminder, he has no powers. He's just peak human, really smart, and has a bunch of cult money. While his cop buddy was doing his spiel, I kept my eyes on Spades the entire time, and the second, the SECOND I blinked, dude was gone! Drives me nuts!

You also can't trust some heroes. Not in a--

"...they might be secretly evil..."

--kind of way, more like--

"...they are WAY too ready to put a bullet in your back..."

--kind of way. I mean, I get it. It was for the greater good, it was a time-sensitive situation, and you knew I'd probably survive it, but a heads up before injecting me with a poison would've been nice, Alchem-bee! Had me tasting copper for two weeks! And don't get me started on--

~One~Rant~Later~

--and some of these guy's backstories are just...just too sad, man. I mean, It's not unusual for heroes to have a little baggage; the best ones do, but you get to listening to 'em after a while, and maybe it's just me, but I'm less sad about what happened to you and more surprised that you're still alive!

Not only that, but you chose to become a hero! If I went through half the stuff some other heroes have been through, I'd have burnt the world to ash and taken Haven and Hell along with it. Spiral went to therapy for about a month. Seasoned vet-level hero therapist, and at the end of it, the therapist had to temporarily shut down her practice because she needed therapy.

Now, I'm not perfect either. I'm no ray of sunshine, always smiling and junk. I've fought a few heroes. Had a couple of bad days after a loss. I mean, I got my powers after my sister's professor went nuts from testing on himself and blew up the school.

Now, I sometimes phase out of reality if I'm not paying attention. I've died twice and had to be told about the second time months after it happened, and I think two versions of my future self started some sort of multiverse war, which is concerning, to say the least.

But...I dunno, maybe I'm the odd man out. Maybe after all that's happened, the fact that I still see myself as just a guy trying to help is weird. I run around the world in a white and red jumpsuit with goggles powered by an energy that no one can understand.

In two years, I've been through enough superhero drama and shenanigans that some heroes think I've been around for waaaaay longer, but somehow, I don't let it get to me. I dunno how I do it, I just do. I bet some guys think I'm some kind of psychopath, an emotional time bomb waiting to go off, just one bad day from--

Notification pops up on Luke's phone. As he reads it, he begins to grin ear to ear.

Oh. My. God! This is the best thing I've ever seen in my life! Have you seen this yet?!

Luke holds the phone up to your face.

MAGS (GF): Guess who's baaaaack? <Int. News Alert // Beaches Gone Bananas> Mutant Fish have been seen battling various cybernetically enhanced primates on Dandi Beach, located on the west coast of India. Sources in the area believe that this is closely involved with an explosion at a nearby abandoned banana factory. The few bananas recovered before the battle have been confirmed to emit a strange kind of radiation. Luckily, the beach was closed for cleaning due to...

Oh, you know this has got Maniac Macaque written all over it. I knew he survived the volcano collapse somehow. You can never keep a weird villain down for long!

Luke starts texting Mag back before running off in a flash of light for a few seconds, returning in costume.

Hey, I ape-preciate you letting me ramble for, like, four hours. I peel-ly needed this more than I thought.

Another notification pops up.

Aw, Carp! Utopic's there! Guy's a wooden board, he's gonna waste a primetime pun situation! Look, I gotta split, but next time you swing through town, lunch is on me. Just no shrimp.

No pun, I just can't stand the taste of 'em.

Luke races down the side of the building. You look off into the distance, seeing a streak of white light speeding into the horizon.

\\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\ \\

"Some days, I really LOVE being a superhero!"

. . . . . . . . . .

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story! If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or comical)). Also, if you have some spare time, check out my blog for more stories like the one above. Stay safe, drink plenty of water, and be kind to yourself and others. ToonMan, AWAY!

.

[Last Week's Story || Next Week's Story]

.

P.S. For the record, I know that the date for this story doesn't fit for last week, but I do have a story for last week. I just...lost the plot a bit.

I realized that the editing is gonna take a while, and my week's about to get not real great. So, I decided to get something down for this week so I wouldn't end up trying to rush a story out at 11 p.m. on Saturday.

If everything goes well, I should have the story done and posted early next week unless I walk into a complete catastrophe.

[cyberdragoninfinity]

Sorry if I cant send more then one but Id love your thoughts on the three-in-one bundle andriod family fuckshow

FIRST OF ALL, OBSESSED WITH THE PHASE "THREE-IN-ONE BUNDLE ANDROID FAMILY FUCKSHOW." THEY SURE FUCKIN ARE!!!!!! my fucked up Italians!!! second of all, cannot believe i am saying this but I actually already did one for Jakob/Jose, you can find my thoughts on him over here!!

So for now I will do just tweedle dee and tweedle dipshit over here

LESTERLUCCIANO:

First impression: "ok so this Primo guy is associated with two other guys and one of them is like??? really short??? ok. wait what the fuck do you mean theyre all the same guy hello--"

Impression now: LITTLE FUCKER OF ALL TIME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! god i love lester so much I love when a yugioh character is just some tiny bastard he's a PERMANENT 12 YEAR OLD he wears ROLLER SKATES FULL TIME he SKATEBOARDS he's RUDE AND MEAN TO EVERYONE his little cackle in his sub voice is DELIGHTFUL. top favorites forever. He is also agonizingly sad and if I think too hard about him I feel unwell.

Favorite moment: Thinking about when Primo loses in the WRGP and Lester starts shrieking at him about how he fucked up the plan and Primo just tells him to stop complaining/stop being petulant and Lester starts LITERALLY SHAKING WITH ABSOLUTE RAGE. THEY WERE HAVING A SHOVING MATCH IMMEDIATELY OFF SCREEN I JUST KNOW IT.

Idea for a story: something about Lester when he was first brought online. What that could have felt like. What would have happened if the implied Mental Blocks That Seal Off the Emperor's Memories weren't active when he first got turned on. Many potential for let's Be Kind of Emo About Lester moments.

Favorite relationship: Lester and Primo's dynamic is genuinely one of my favorite platonic yugioh character relationships, I need to talk more on it sometime. They really brotherpilled those two androids as hard as they possibly could and it makes me explode. Primo stole his card so Lester really just rips his whole deck out of his beat to shit torso. Unhinged Middle Schooler vs. Unhinged 19 Year Old.

Favorite headcanon: bird autism, can do So Many Skateboard Tricks, would pick up bugs and garbage and other shit off the ground and throw them at Primo. Very protective of his hair and knows a bunch of braids and styles. Is absolutely Fucking Terrified of Jakob but will not admit this. Bites. Hard.

PRIMOPLACIDO:

First impression: during his DL event back in 2021 I really was just like "idrk what's going on here with this like. weird 5Ds villain overlord guy. He's got a robot army I guess??? ok. is he like... 30? what is this shit about bees what the hell."

Impression now: that is my BOY my SON my FAILBOT9000 he is PERMANENTLY UNDER 20 he is a gijinka of just how much it sucks to be 19 and angry at everything and I LOVE HIM SO. SO MUCH. DID NOT EXPECT HIM TO BECOME ONE OF MY TOP FAVORITE YGO CHARACTERS BUT HERE WE ARE. he just sucks so bad and nobody likes him and if i also think too hard about him and how agonizingly lonely and fucked up he is I start getting BIG SAD. HE TURNED INTO A FUCKING MOTORCYCLE. SOMETHING IS WRONG WITH HIM. HE DIED BADLY AND CAME BACK BADLY. LOVE THIS ANIMAL. THE PEEM.

Favorite moment: they really gave this poor bastard one of the most 'gruesome' ygo duel loss moments huh. Like he's a robot so it's fine to show it but he did still get RIPPED IN HALF. AND HIS STUPID SWORD SKIDDED ACROSS THE PAVEMENT SOUNDING LIKE A SILVERWARE DRAWER. it makes me bananas. I also rly love the bit when he's working on his secret Ghost Army and Jakob videocalls to yell at him and Primo just looks away like a dog that got caught eating out of the trash.

Idea for a story: oooouughhhh none of yall are ready for the AU simmering in the back of my brain where Leo tries to save a chunk of Aporia's inner robotic hardware to try and bring him back to life, but it's corrupted and incomplete and only brings back Primo. So now you have this miserable postcanon Primo with no deck no sword no NOTHING being shown kindness from Yusei & co and having to live with all of Aporia's memories and knowledge of What He Did. it's so special to me. i need to brew some more on it.

Unpopular opinion: every day. i see this weird idea that Primo is like.... uwu so suave and dainty and delicate??? and it's like....HUH???? this 6 foot tall WEIRD GUY is PART MOTORCYCLE and MEAN AS HELL and UNPLEASANT TO BE AROUND and FUMBLES EVERY SINGLE ONE OF HIS PLANS. let him suck ass!! he's at his best when he sucks!! ALSO THE LIKE. FANDOM IDEA THAT HE LOVES BEES??!? literally every time he talks about insects it's in a derogatory manner for the love of god i am begging for media literacy. im on my hands and knees here.

Favorite relationship: I do love his stupid one-sided rivalry with Yusei it's so fucking funny. But also, again, he and Lester....god. Love them so fucking much. If Primo hated Lester as much as he acts and claims he would not have gone along with his little rich kid's butler bit I just know it (without complaining either!!). You can argue he just tolerates Lester's company but I genuinely think he does like it. even if it's just a little. Based and Big Brother'd. Wahhhh

Favorite headcanon: god where do I start. Autism Beast. Constantly on the verge of an being overstimulated meltdown. Zero volume control. If someone had introduced him to wolves that would have been it, he would have been a complete wolfaboo. Avid watcher of Cool Sword Videos. Built like a pit bull.

[randomlyritchie]

🍁I Can’t Live Up To The World’s Expectations🍂

One of the most conflicting things in my adult life is being asked questions about myself & my life. I can remember when I graduated college & being asked what I was going to do. I was still a barista but I planned on trying to get a “real” job. It’s stressful enough when you don’t exactly have it all figured out & you get this question over & over. When you hit adulthood it becomes questions about how your weekend was, how your vacation was, how your holidays were, or questions about your personal life. There are times that I just want to wear a shirt that says, “I’m in the middle of a depressive episode,” or “the holidays are going to suck because I come from a dysfunctional family.” If I just came out & said that the reason that I don’t have a husband & kids is because I chose to put that aspect of my life in God’s hands & he is still making me wait…would people understand? I just started to hit a point years ago that I just kind of don’t want to talk about myself or my life unless it’s to certain people. Because I don’t think that people understand. And everything is not gloom & doom. I’d rather be single than live in a toxic relationship. I’m cool with never having kids if that is the only way to avoid bringing more trauma into my lineage. I don’t like the holidays but I endure them. I live through my mental health issues & it isn’t always bad. But I just don’t like to always talk about it…whether it’s good or bad. I think the conflict comes in because I know people mean well…but I still don’t want to talk about it.

When it comes to the weekend, there’s too much expectation. This weekend, I’m luteal phasing…so everything is extra hard. Still, I thought I was somehow going to come home & read for a couple hours. What happened was just me sleeping. Today I thought I was gonna relax my hair & read. I slept & slept…because ms. luteal wants to suck all of the life force out of me. Then, I got the strength to get up & go to the store. My earphones shorted out & I needed news ones. Sooo, I still use wired headphones. Like, the whole wireless thing just feels like too much. But because we are constantly pushed to do what the powers that be want…I had to go to six stores before I could get what I wanted. By the time I’d hit store #4, I was ready to go wireless UNTIL I saw that I would need to charge my earphones!!! Like, that is literally the stupidest thing to me. I’m sorry. I’m not charging my earphones. Then I came home & ate lunch. I played my video game & I went back to sleep. And now it’s almost Sunday. There is absolutely nothing riveting about what I just told you. Like, nothing at all. And it’s fine because that is my life. But nobody wants to hear about that. And this is why 1. I have no expectations for the weekend. 2. I just don’t like talking about my life anymore. I just have a normal random life that works & sometimes doesn’t feel like it works for me. And even though I sometimes just want it to all be over, I still love a lot of things about my existence. It’s just in the face of the masses…my life doesn’t feel like it lives up. One of my goals for Fall is to let go of caring what people think of my life. I feel like God showed me that I took a different path so my life is naturally gonna look different. And that’s okay. Anyway, the highlight of today is my new book & Lore Olympus putting out a new volume. Which is another thing that I don’t know that people fully understand. Me & my love for books. And even if I had a man, I’d still be reading my books.

xoxo,

Autumn ✌🏾🫶🏾✨

[bottledkriegmen]

talk about your rtc headcanons please.

YES I WILL AHAHAH THANK YOU

i have a note open on my notes app full of hcs >:]

(some of these will be pretty ship centered, but they could probably be seen as platonic!)

~~{☆}~~

Jane/Penny

• bites people. out of love. i think

• autistic because i said so

• new special interest every week

• long-term hyperfixation on doll collecting

• like girly has a terrifying amount of dolls

• she/they/it/doll/star pronouns fuck you

• forgets what her own voice sounds like sometimes so randomly she'll just.. start talking to himself.

• has a pet axolotl

• queer platonic relationship with ocean

• has an old galaxy note phone but it's kept it pristine condition

• can beatbox

• has really good rhythm!!

• soprano 1

• devilishly good at escape rooms

• along with mishca, the choirs bodyguard

• isn't allowed in the kitchen without supervision

• stims by just... riffing

• yk that riff in tbojd? that.

• favorite time if the year is Christmas, specifically for the carolling

• takes the choir to carol with it all the time

• cannot spell for shit

• cosplays with ricky constantly

~~{☆}~~

Ricky

• had a nightcore phase

• SCENE KID <3

• makes the most killer hot coco ever

• teached the choir asl after the accident BCS THEY ALL COME BACK IN THE END FIGHT ME

• every year for the different choir members birthdays she draws them as a cat. (he gives them fursonas i dont make the rules here).

• uses all pronouns

• named a cat after each of the choir members but refuses to tell them

• genderfluid as fuck!!

• has one of those samsung phones that can fold

• makes cat stickers for fun

• her mobility aids are covered in stickers and has little trinkets that dangle

• had a warrior cats phase

• got noel into warrior cats in middle school

• has 3 hairless cats

• obsessed with the Labyrinth

• gets high with mischa weekly

• fucking pro on an electric guitar

• has a baseball cap with cat ears attached to the top

• jazz hand stims

• makes the choirs halloween costumes every year

• excellent seamstress

• also loves tf outta Halloween

• she gets to dress up as a swinging space age bachelor man and wouldn't get judged, ofc she loves it

• stims by.. meowing and purring?? for fun??? its fun try it

• has a lifetime pass to any cosplay convention that happens in Uranium ( idk if thats a real thing but it is now )

~~{}~~

Ocean

• horrid asthma

• avarage glee watcher

• IS gossip girl

• they/she user

• neurodivergent as hell but is undiagnosed because their parents SUCK and don't believe in that stuff

• asexual lesbian real

• has to use either Constances or Mischas washing machine/dryer to wash her clothes.

• hates the beach

• they sunburn so easily

• sibling relationship with both mischa and noel

• has a yellow iphone with an otterbox phonecase

• keeps little Polaroid pictures of her and the other choir members in a journal she has

• she likes taking pictures I said so

• was the last one to grasp asl, but she is trying!!!!

• cuts her hair themselves and as genuinely good at it

• soprano 2

• has horrid OCD

• loves deer sm

• loves Christmas time <3

• hot mocha enjoyer

• her and noel have kareoke night every friday

~~{☆}~~

Constance

• vocaloid enjoyer

• pumpkin spice latte drinker

• mom friend. keeps bandaids, candies, an inhaler, toothpicks, waters, and koolaid packets in her bag at all times.

• pansexual queen <3 i love her

• she/her pronouns, but doesn't mind they/them

• her family has threatened to adopt literally every single one of the choir members - noel and ricky

• listens to 90's rock music

• love language is physical touch!!! she loves holding everyones hands and gives the best hugs imaginable

• wrote pjo fanfiction in middle school

• it's still on ao3

• fandom junkie

• has a dark green motorola phone with a pastel blue case

• alto

• really good at crochet and makes sweaters for choir during their birthdays

• makes small sweaters for rickys hairless cats during winter

• K-pop stan

• has asked noel to dress up as a k-pop idol before

• adhd haver

• has hundreds of little lists for random things

• favorite holiday is Christmas and she loves giving the choir gifts

• giving love language is giving gifts fight me

• has a pet frog named Jeremy

• sometimes she just spins around as a stim

~~{☆}~~

Mischa

• HATES coffee, claims it tastes like dirt

• languages master ( teaches noel french bcs duolingo isn't helping at all)

• dad friend

• menace in the kitchen

• HIM AND NOEL HAVE MOVIE NIGHTS YES!!

• talia is real and they're in love... fuck you

• mischa "two hands" bachinski

• is the reason the choir room has a swear jar

• loves bearded dragons

• unreasonably terrified of snakes

• bisexual king

• He/They supremacy

• can and will down an entire bottle of straight vodka

• very proud of that fact

• transmasc real!!!!

• talia helps pay for their T shots and after hearing about noel being trans too she buys her a binder <3

• so in love with noel and talia both he has too much passion

• brotp with ricky they're brothers your honor

• only one besides noel that can drive

• made vines

• works at a haunted house with penny during halloween

• his adoptive parents are rich as fuck

• can tell you the history of rap if you asked him to

• love language is words of affirmation bcs i said so

• sometimes he just carries around the other choir members (usually ocean) on his back for fun

• body heater

• has a red iphone with a clear case

• it has so many cracks

• godly at stick n pokes

• has a pet hampster his adoptive parents know nothing about

• has gotten a lightbulb stuck in their mouth twice

• has the most batshit insane ideas

• really into pop music but will NEVER tell anyone

• he has autism btw

• really good at critiquing movies

• baritone/bass what's the difference

• carries ricky up and down stairs even if it isn't needed

• giving love language is physical touch fight me ( him and constance are always touching eachother in someway, either by holding pinkies or leaning in eachother. platonic or not, take it as you please)

• its a real struggle with talia but they make do

• movie nights in his basement happen every Tuesday after choir rehearsal, usually only him and noel are there but ricky and penny join every so often!!

• the choirs bodygaurd

• he's friends with the detention teacher

• has the second highest gpa out of the choir

• special interest: RAP

• DRUMMER

• listens to imagine dragons unironically

• halloween enthusiast

• always dresses up as some cheesy horror movie villain

• sometimes, mid conversation, he'll just start speaking in Ukranian. he won't realize until the person he's talking to mentions it.

• has a pretty bad lisp

• flappy hand stimmer fight me

• ambidextrous

~~{☆}~~

Noel

• starbucks employees know him by name

• stereotypical gay tbh, he drinks tf outta iced coffee

• tries to learn french through duolingo but fails miserably

• he/she noel supremacy

• always steals food from taco bell before a performance to give to the choir

• introduced rocky horror picture show to the choir and now they all wont stop quoting it

• TRANS MAN

• mlm/wlw hatred solidarity between her and ocean

• but in a sibling way

• unreasonably obsessed with peacocks amd doves (specifically white doves, they're so pretty)

• literally so oblivious to mischas crush its hilarious

• hates his job. so. much.

• her favorite stim is just repeating lines from the Blue Angel in a french accent. she knows it's a german film, but french accents are just too fun man

• she's autistic too btw ive decided

• hyperfixated on french history

• and scented candles

• holy shit she has so many scented candles

• has those fake candy cigarettes but absolutely hates how they taste

• has a notebook of little shirt stories of moniques life

• absolutely has thought out entire movies with Monique as the main character

• really really bad abandonment issues

• love language is quality time <3

• she is genuinely so angsty i have so many sad hcs for her

• has terrible eyesight but refuses to wear glasses

• instead, wears shitty contacts

• musical theatre nerd

• paints his nails so he would stop chewing them but it doesn't work

• purple iphone user, has one of those square cases with the gold accents please know what i'm talking about

• has an old cat named Nyxl and she is treated like a got damn queen

• token tenor

• has a notebook full of poetry

• has a book full of edgar allen poes stories

• she loves them

• picky eater picky eater picky eater picky eater

• has to be chewing on something to even exist

• usually a toothpick, since she got scolded by ocean once because she bit a hole in her lip

• favorite holiday is valentines day

• he'll say he hates it but absolutely loves the romantic aspect of it

~~{☆}~~

thanky ou for indulging me i needed yhis <3

[letterstotheflre]

i'd beg you on my knees

summary: you loved sirius's fingers, but there's something you craved more.

warnings: oral sex (male receiver), daddy kink, a bit of religious imagery (you know how it is), a bit of spitting, mentions of throat training and finger sucking, i think that's it?

word count: 2.5k

a/n: as a celebration for passing my chemistry final and 300 followers, here is the second part to the sirius corrupting you series :)

ps: i know those look like feminine hands, but pretend they are sirius’s okay i spent 2 hours looking for something to use and that’s the best i got

you couldn’t stop staring at his hands.

you had always loved them. they were big, always completely encasing your smaller ones, and full of rings, some of which you made yourself. the skin on his palm and finger pads was a bit rough, a consequence of years of holding a bat to hit the bludgers away from his teammates. but there was still a slight delicate appearance to them, courtesy of the black family genes which, despite years of slight inbreeding, somehow still managed to make some of the most attractive people in the wizarding world.

you loved the way they felt against the small of your back or your waist, always letting some warmth seep through the fabric of your clothes. you loved the way they cupped your cheeks before he leant down to kiss you, slightly squishing your cheeks and puckering your lips for him. but ever since that afternoon a few days ago, you adored the way they felt in your mouth.

you tried to be subtle, you really did, but it was impossible to stop staring at them. you couldn’t forget the weight of his fingers on your tongue nor the way they hit the back of your throat. the feeling of having them in your mouth brought a strange sense of comfort to you, it was like having a piece of him always inside you.

and sirius noticed. of course he did, you were one of the only things he deemed important enough to pay attention to, followed by the phases of the moon and any updates on the 5-year plan james had made to woo lily evans. and because he liked seeing your glazed over eyes and heating cheeks when he caught you staring, he started to show them off on purpose.

he started to talk with more hand movements, followed by always playing with any stray hairs around your face. he started to use his thumb to play with your bottom lip before kissing you, almost giving you what you wanted but then taking it away from you.

he caved in when he saw how truly needy you were for them. the teary eyes and little whines you made every time he pulled them away from your mouth were almost enough to make him hard, so he allowed you to suck on them every now and then. he watched attentively as you slightly hollowed your cheeks when he used both his pointer and middle fingers, sometimes trying to get as much of them inside you as possible.

so he started to push your limits, drawing circles against the back of your tongue before he pushed them further, not warning you before they entered your cavity, yearning to hear what other pretty sounds you could do besides moaning and whining. you had gagged violently the first time he did it, and you looked at him confused at the sudden intrusion, “remember the first time you sucked on them? remember what you wanted them to be?” you nodded slowly, embarrassed that he could recall how much you wanted other parts of him inside you. “I gotta stretch your little throat, bunny. gotta get you all ready for my cock.”

and that was that. the following days were spent with you either on his lap or on your knees in front of him, long and thick fingers prodding the back of your throat constantly until it only took you less than five minutes to get used to the feeling of something residing in it. sirius never let up, even if you had some tears in your eyes caused by the intrusion, always giving you new learning material: breath through your nose, relax your throat, open your mouth wide. his instructions ran through your brain every day, an urgent need to remember them controlling your thoughts.

and that’s how you were now, on your knees in front of him like a repentant while sirius sat on the edge of the mattress, mouth wide open as you waited eagerly for his fingers. you watched, intrigued, as his mandible moved around almost like he was collecting something. your unvoiced question was answered when his face came close to yours, his hand tangling itself in your hair to tilt it upwards, and then his spit was dribbling onto your pink tongue.

the sight of him spitting into your mouth sent a thrum of pleasure to your core. “swallow,” he said, leaving no room for disobedience. You followed his command, letting it fall down your throat as if it were your forbidden fruit, and once you opened your mouth again his fingers went in, immediately pressing on your tongue. you swirled your tongue around them, covering them in your saliva before he started to push them further. you only gagged a little, the previous lessons having already prepared you.

he let you suck on them a bit longer before removing them, watching as your hands scrambled to his wrist to keep them close. he shook his head, chuckling in amusement, “you needy thing.” he patted your head, “I think you are ready for my cock, angel, do you want it?”

you opened your eyes wide, looking like a kid in a candy shop. “yes, please!” your voice was a bit hoarse, “wanna make you feel good like you made me feel the other day, siri.” the smirk he wore on his lips when he heard your eager ‘yes’ fell into an honest smile, “oh I bet you’ll make me feel better than that, bunny.”

you watched from your position on the hardwood floor as he rose to his feet, unbuckling his belt and pulling the zipper down. he let his jeans fall to the floor, now only clad in his underwear that would soon meet the same fate and you wiggled, eager to finally see him. once he was completely naked he sat back on the bed, spreading his legs so you could kneel comfortably between them. he was already a bit hard, courtesy of the image of you suckling on his fingers so needily, but he still needed a little push before he was ready for you.

you were entranced by him, this being the first time you ever saw someone other than yourself completely naked. he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and you could see the slight ripples of muscle on his abdomen and the stray tattoos that adorned his skin here and there. he had a few scars, some of them caused by his parents' punishments and others from a few accidents during the full moon, but he was still absolutely beautiful.

and then your eyes fell lower, down the happy trail of hair that led to what you had been craving since that fateful tuesday afternoon. it was big, even though you had never seen another cock you couldn’t deny its length. there was a vein on one side that stood out a bit, and the tip was a bit red and something shiny was coating it. “can I please touch it, daddy?” you asked sweetly, wanting to remain on his good side.

the name had accidentally left your mouth a few days ago when you were suckling on his fingers. you were just so needy, so desperate for their weight on your tongue that your mind had started to feel fuzzy, and the nickname just slipped out.

your cheeks had resembled the heat of a fire, still sober enough to realize your mistake but when you saw the way his eyes had darkened and his grip on your waist tightened, you repeated it. he had cursed, voice low as his other hand cupped your cheek. “you want daddy’s fingers, hm?” he questioned, forcing you to tell him with your words what you wanted when you merely nodded. and that was a new lesson, ask for what you want and you were to only refer to him as daddy in private.

“go on, angel,” he said with a nod of his head. slowly, you moved one hand closer, still a bit hesitant with your movements. though eager to learn, you were still scared of doing something wrong and stop being his good girl as he had called you multiple times while he watched as you touched yourself for him. he would sit in a chair in front of the bed as he told you what to do and when to cum, and the rush of power he felt was extraordinary.

one finger traced the vein, the soft touch making sirius twitch. the skin was warm and actually pretty smooth, with a couple of ridges here and there. gently, you closed your hand around the base and moved it up and down, and sirius groaned. the soft touch drove him insane, your palm barely gripping him, “close your hand a bit more, puppy,” he instructed. you gripped him more tightly, “it won’t hurt you?” you asked.

sirius just smiled at your thoughtfulness, “no, baby, it’ll feel really good. just don’t add too much pressure as you did with your nipples the other day,” he slightly taunted. you blushed at his teasing, “didn’t mean to do that, daddy,” you grumbled and unknowingly thumbed at the slit of the tip, making him moan in pleasure. the sound was so heavenly in your ears that you did it again and again until one of his hands gripped your hair so you looked up at him.

“you’re teasing me now, bunny?” he said harshly, “that’s not how it works and you know it. d’ya want me to stop you from cumming again like I did yesterday?”

you shook your head quickly, or as much as you could with the grip on your hair, “no no, m’sorry, daddy, didn’t mean to.” but he just chuckled, an empty sound that wasn’t as nice as his previous moans. “oh, you didn’t mean to! like you didn’t mean to tug on your nipples. like you didn’t mean to wear that tiny skirt the other day. like you didn’t mean to cum without my permission three days ago.” he started to list all of your accidents, “is there anything you do mean, angel?” he asked harshly.

your lips slightly quivered at his tone, ashamed at making him angry when all you wanted was to please him. “I want to make you feel good, daddy! m’sorry, I promise I’ll be better. I’ll be your best girl.” you tried to convince him, and you really did mean it. all you wanted was to be good for him.

“well, then put my cock in your mouth and show me y’can be good.” with that, he moved your head closer towards him, and then slackened his grip. you looked at him while giving the tip a little kiss, then using your tongue to collect the pearly white liquid that had collected there. it tasted a bit funny, saltier than you remembered your own cum to taste, but it wasn’t necessarily bad. then, using the flat of your tongue, you moved along the length, using one hand to keep it straight.

sirius was biting his lip as he watched you, his little angel on her pretty knees about to suck him for the first time. after a few more teasing licks, you finally took him into your mouth, and the moan that escaped sirius was incredibly sinful. your mouth was so warm and so wet that the only other place sirius could ever possibly want to be in was your pussy.

you swirled your tongue around the bit that was inside your cavity, your hand still stimulating what you couldn’t fit yet. he was big, too big for your mouth, but you wanted to fit all of him inside, so you took a deep breath through your nose and tried to relax both your mandible and your throat before taking him deeper. you pushed as far as you could, staying there for a couple of seconds before pulling apart, heaving another deep breath before repeating your actions. you gagged and choked at the progressive obstruction, yet you pushed through it, but it sounded so good in sirius’s ears that he thought about just pushing your head down without warning.

sirius threw his head back with a groan when you started to hollow your cheeks, “fuck, angel, you’re so good, taking me so well.” he praised, and it made you shiver in pleasure, the meaning of his words accompanied by his gruff voice a perfect melody. you raised your eyes to look at him. he looked beautiful like this: head thrown back, lips red from biting them, completely exposed for you and one hand gripping the sheets while the other grabbed your head.

you pulled away with a pop, “y’look so pretty, daddy,” you complimented him, and it made the tension in his stomach tighten significantly. it was such an innocent compliment in a completely unholy scenario that he couldn’t help but twitch in your hand. you had just wrapped your lips around him again when he said, “not as pretty as you with m’cock down your throat,” and it made you giggle around him as you shied a bit at his words. the vibrations of your little laugh could’ve sent him over the edge, “shit—” he cursed.

you took him deeper than ever before, your throat now used to the intrusion and barely even gagging. sirius started to raise his hips, almost face fucking you but he held back some of the strength in his thrusts. you kept your eyes on him, and fuck you looked so good with your mouth full and those watery eyes and flushed skin that after a few more thrusts he pulled you away.

you whimpered, not understanding why he stopped your movements. there was still a string of saliva that connected your mouth to him, and he sped up his hand movements as he looked at your sinful image. “daddy,” you groused, tongue out so he could put it back in.

“fuck, angel, m’gonna cum,” he moaned, “n’ I’m gonna paint your little face, d’you want that?” he asked, slightly panting through his exertion. but you shook your head, “m’mouth, want to taste you,” and that did it for him. he cursed and moaned, all at the same time, as that wave of pleasure swallowed him whole. white spurts fell on your tongue, a few others coating your cheeks, and he looked so sinful while working through his orgasm that you had to clench your thighs together.

once he was fully spent, he watched as you eagerly swallowed what he gave you, showing him there was nothing left. his hands went to your cheeks, cleaning his cum from your face and forcing you to clean them, too. it was so dirty that he felt proud of what he made of you, his cock twitching once more before softening.

“was I good, daddy?” you asked him with a slightly raspy voice. you were looking up at him as if he were your god, his opinion of the highest importance to you. he smiled proudly, his fingers now playing with the chain that had a little ‘s’ that rested just between your collarbones. “the best, angel.”

TAGLIST: @gxtitobxby @emmaev @dracosafety @dracoxgeorge @sarcasmismyon1ydefence @remusjlupinisdead @mattefic @zzzfour —if you want to be tagged tap here

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Lying (Next) To You (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T+ for violence + language Warnings: Blood-drinking/general vampiric shenanigans Summary: There is no goal other than escape. You want out of this castle, no matter what you have to do, no matter the consequences. At first, the solution seems to lie with one of the very women you want to get away from. But what happens when you find yourself genuinely caring for her? Length: 5,934 words

Merely surviving had never been your intention. From day one in this foul place, this unholy castle, you had strived to escape. No matter what, you refused to allow such dismal grounds to be your grave. But leaving wouldn’t be as simple as walking out an unlocked door. It required manipulation, agility, and the willingness to screw over anyone who got in your way. Even those who you would have once called friends, or the closest thing you had to that among the servants. Was that something you were willing to do? Absolutely, without a shred of doubt in your mind. Someday, somehow, regardless of what it took, you’d get out and never look back. For now, though, all you can do is scheme…

—————————

Three targets, each incredibly difficult to get your hands on, each presenting their own unique challenges. Which would be easiest to charm? You were still debating that answer.

First was Bela: The eldest, most responsible, forced to be the “role model” for her sisters. A bookworm (a trait the two of you shared) who spent a fair amount of her freetime in the library. While not overtly cruel, she was still rather violent, especially in cases where she felt her family had been insulted. However, there were whispers that she had a secret weakness: Anxiety. None had caught her in the open throes of an attack and lived to tell the tale. But she had been overheard, more than once, quiet cries or shaking breaths. Trying to talk to her during one of these occasions could lead to gaining her affection- if you managed to do what no other had been capable of doing, that is.

Second was Daniela: The youngest, most excitable, eager to please and desperate to be pleased. Easily interacted with more maidens than either of her sisters, though not always in a good way. Getting her attention could mean getting pulled into her room in the middle of the night, for some “fun”, or it could mean getting drained of all of your blood. Sometimes she did one after the other. Like Bela, she was a bookworm, though she preferred romance novels as opposed to her older sister’s educational texts. As for her weakness? To you, Daniela seemed to be the definition of “undiagnosed ADHD”. Less exploitable for sympathy than her sister, but possibly useful in helping you trick her. At the end of the day, the largest concern with her was her inconsistent behavior, her tendency to flip moods at the drop of a hat- and a drop of the hat with her could feel a helluva lot like a drop of an axe (onto your neck).

Then came the third… the one you didn’t think was worth the risk, whatsoever: Cassandra. Middle child and acting just like it, she was hungry for her mother’s approval, attention, and respect most of all. Bloodthirsty as could be, with a mean streak eight kilometers wide, the truest monster you had ever met. Even her fondness for the arts manifested in malevolent ways. Supposedly, she painted in blood, and made sculptures from the bones of her victims, displayed proudly in her room as trophies. What could you possibly do to earn her affection? What could you ever be to her, other than a plaything or mid-afternoon snack?... Nothing, you assumed, and so you figured you might as well remove her from your list. Somehow you’d have to make do with one of her sisters. As for which one?... You decided to let fate decide, and go for whomever you found yourself with an opportunity to court.

—————————

Free time was a rare commodity in Castle Dimitrescu. While every servant did technically get one day off every week, it wasn’t uncommon to end up helping with something unexpected, even if one tried to hide away in the private quarters. For you, it was an opportune time to try and get closer to your targets. So far three weeks had passed since your “decision” to focus on Bela and Daniela, without a single interaction with either of them. Still, hope held fast in your chest, as you made haste towards the library. On this free day you intended to read as much as possible. ‘Twas a two-pronged goal: First, you would increase your chances of running into one of your preferred employers. Secondly, you could possibly learn something through what content you consumed, perhaps to be utilized in later conversations.

Or such was the hope. In truth, you did not make it to the library, nor even anywhere close. A quarter of the way there you were interrupted by an ever-dreaded noise; buzzing echoed throughout the hallway, first far off, but getting closer with every second. There was a particular ferocity to the vibrations that you knew meant danger was approaching. According to the other maidens, this was a distinction that everyone learned over time, assuming that they survived long enough. The smart thing would have been to duck away into an adjacent room in the hopes that whatever sister it was would ignore you. But your endgame weighed heavy on your mind, then forced your feet to the floor. For better or worse, you would be in the woman’s path, ready for whatever she may ask of you.

“You-” a voice snarled, as a hooded figure phased out of the swarm and into your vision. Her head was held high, eyes narrowed as they stared down at you, a snarl twisting her lips. Of course it was her. Cassandra Dimitrescu. The one daughter you didn’t want to encounter. Inside, part of you writhes in self deprecation, feeling as if you should have known better. How often did the other two buzz about so angrily?... Well, certainly a fair bit, but nowhere near as much as Cassandra. Fuck, you think, I’m probably doomed. “I’m hungry. Come here real quick,” Cassandra demands, beckoning you towards her with a single finger. In another life you would have blushed bright red at the sight. A life where she wasn’t a vampiric monster, that is.

Nonetheless, you are quick to obey, masking your anxiety as best as you can. Doing so gets much harder once your gaze meets Cassandra’s, and you see her lick her lips before smirking at you. As soon as you’re within her reach, she’s surging forward, grabbing you by your shoulders, then pivoting, pressing you hard against the wall. You can’t help but gasp at the sudden movements, which only widens her grin. Before you know it she’s running her tongue along your neck. Once more you gasp, this time softer, hating the way your body urges you to lean into her touch. Why couldn’t she simply get straight to the worst of it? Instead she takes her sweet time, slipping a finger beneath the collar of your shirt, slowly, carefully tugging it to the side. When she finally bites, it is terribly sudden. The pleasure comes before the pain, stronger than you would have expected, eliciting a sharp inhale from you that sounds more satisfied than you had intended. Even as a rush of pain follows, you can’t help the red that tints your cheeks.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” Cassandra asks, after licking away at your blood for a few moments, pulling back but not releasing you. Something in her eyes makes you need to respond.

“Y-yes, more than I’d like to admit,” you mumble, barely able to make eye contact. But she seems pleased by this, gently cupping your chin while she looks you over.

“Well then, if you survive… I might just have to drink from you again,” she whispers, before diving right back in towards your neck. This time her touch is far, far softer than before. It feels more like she’s kissing you rather than drinking from you. A strange, irritatingly familiar feeling springs in the pit of your stomach, and you can’t help but make more of those noises she seemed to enjoy so much. Hell, your eyes drift closed as you take in the surprisingly welcome sensation. When they reopen, however, you give a yelp of surprise, spotting a very awkwardly waiting servant. They were blushing, clearly not having expected to come upon this particular sight. Cassandra perks up at your shock, turning to follow your gaze, then giving an uncharacteristically resigned groan. “Damn it, Ava, is it urgent?” She asks, to which the servant gives a silent shrug. “I’ll be done in a minute. Now, where were we?”

Once more she resumes feeding, casting aside all traces of sweetness, sucking on your wound with reckless abandon. Behind her, Ava gives you a thumbs up before turning away. As embarrassing as the moment felt, you were grateful to xer, glad that xe seemed to recognize your desire for privacy. More than that… if xe hadn’t come along, would Cassandra have remembered to stop before your bloodloss became fatal? There was no guarantee either way. Yet xer intervention felt like a godsend, and you made a mental note to thank xer later. Soon enough Cassandra removes herself from you, pausing only to cup your chin for a moment, meeting your gaze with a smirk. Then she was turning away without another word, following Ava to some unknown destination.

A deep breath, then another, more frantic, the familiar sense of panic growing on the edges of your mind. Now that the feeding was over, you were left trembling with all the fear you had been so adamant about not showing before. How close to death had you come? How close were you now? Only feeling slightly more faint than you had earlier, it felt safe enough to assume you would be fine, if only physically. Inside your mind you were struggling with racing thought after racing thought. How the hell am I supposed to do this with either Bela or Daniela? You think, trying to breathe past the lump in your throat. And why did I have to enjoy that so much? They’re nothing more than means to an end, monsters undeserving of my kindness, of my joy. Your only comfort was the knowledge that this may very well have been the opportunity you had been waiting for; but only if you could shift your aim.

—————————

The difference was subtle, almost microscopic, to the point where it took you a full week to notice. But once you had? Everything felt different. You couldn’t spend more than three seconds in the same room as Cassandra without her eyes following you, watching your every move, sending a rush of both fear and excitement down your spine. Meeting her gaze only made her give the tiniest fraction of a smile. As soon as something (or someone) else caught her attention, however, you were forgotten in the blink of an eye. Yet it was nerve wracking nonetheless. This was roughly what you had hoped for, but you had underestimated the mental toll it would take on you. There was no way to tell whether Cassandra wanted violence, something softer, or her usual brand- a cruel mixture of both. Every second spent in her presence was a roll of the dice, a flip of a coin, either one weighted to put the odds against you.

But you persisted. Escape was not a dream, nor a fantasy, nor some far off cryptid. It was inevitable. Again and again you would swallow your fear until you reached your long-sought destination. No matter the cost, you think, no matter the consequences. Over time, that cost, those consequences, would grow. For now, it was a slice of your sanity. Next? More blood, it seemed.

“Casserole wants you to stop by her art studio,” the note said, cursive hand-writing ever-so-fancy and ever-so-difficult to read. Clearly from Ava, the mildly mysterious (but incredibly helpful) castle servant known for never speaking a word. From what you had gathered, xe was a confidant of sorts for the Dimitrescu family, trusted far more than the average worker. Alas, xe was loyal to the center of xer being, and was rumored to be impeccable at preventing escape attempts before they had even started. If you wanted out of this damn place, you knew you’d have to be careful around xer. Hopefully xe won’t interrupt this time, you think, before tucking the note away in your pocket.

Cassandra’s infamous studio wasn’t terribly far from your quarters, thankfully, though you weren’t even sure if you were supposed to arrive at a specific time. What if she wasn’t expecting you until later? Worse, what if she had been expecting you an hour ago? It’s a dangerous thought, one that could easily spiral into something far more drastic, and you try to reassure yourself, reminding yourself that Ava would have mentioned a time if it was important. In the end, you still found your heart racing as you stood outside the room in question. Pausing to take a deep breath, you center yourself, before raising a hand to knock. To your surprise, you get an answer before your hand even gets close to the door.

“Come in already,” Cassandra chimes from inside. Unsure of what terrible fate you were about to meet, you entered the room, somewhat reluctantly. Despite the myriad of unsavory rumors regarding the studio, there were no immediate signs of brutality. At the worst, the space was fairly messy, though not due to any, ahem, “misplaced” body parts. No, just an overflowing garbage bin, a few unfinished projects placed haphazardly wherever they’d fit, shards of glass in one corner, and tile floor splattered with a Pollock-esque layer of paint. In one word? Chaotic. Such was the type of environment that seemed to suit Cassandra best, the sort in which you imagined she would thrive. But you didn’t have time to examine anything as closely as you would have liked to. “Are you going to keep me waiting?”

“No, Lady Cassandra,” you reply, hurriedly, shaking your head to clear your thoughts. Then you’re quickly crossing the room, to what looks like a cross between a storage cabinet and a paint mixing station. In Cassandra’s hands, however, you find something less welcoming than a paintbrush: A needle and an empty blood bag. Well, you think, I guess I know why I’m here. At least there’s only one bag, right? “What do you require of me, my Lady?” While the answer was fairly obvious, you didn’t know the specific steps necessary, and it never hurt to be as polite as possible with the Dimitrescu family.

“Just sit down, roll your sleeves up, look pretty, and stay still. Try not to make any noises this time- as cute as they were last time, I have a headache,” Cassandra explains, gesturing towards the room’s only chair. Ignoring the way your cheeks heated up, you did as she asked, trying to get relatively comfortable. It was somewhat difficult to relax, considering who you were with. “Calm down, pet, I’m only going to hurt you a little. That’s more than I can say for most people who end up here.” Why did she have to use a nickname for you? Weren’t you already flushed enough without her teasing you further? Though your flustering does turn to confusion after a moment, as you wonder how she knew how afraid you were. You were under the impression that you were hiding it fairly well. Noticing your reaction, Cassandra rolls her eyes, before leaning in to whisper in your ear. “I can hear your heartbeat. Normally I’d find this… exciting. But my head hurts and I wanted to finish this damn painting yesterday. So take a deep breath, little pet, and let me take what I need from you.”

Of course she had to say it like that, and put herself so close to you. You’re pretty sure that your heart skips a few beats in response, though Cassandra doesn’t react beyond a hint of a smile, merely returning to her prep work. First step was cleaning your skin. Admittedly you hadn’t been sure if that step was necessary, seeing as the blood was (seemingly) for art as opposed to testing, but it didn’t exactly surprise you. Besides, there was a chance she’d drink the leftovers, right? Next she double-checked that the needle was properly connected to the blood bag, and that the latter was resting securely on a small stand. With that out of the way, it was time for her favorite part.

“Since your heartbeat has slowed down a little… I’ll let you whimper if you want to- but only once. Consider it a reward for good behavior,” Cassandra purrs with a familiar grin. One hand gently cups your chin, while her eyes look right in yours, just long enough to turn your cheeks bright red. The moment ends as quickly as it started. Before you know it she’s turned stoic again, feeling along your arm for a vein. This isn’t the first time you’ve had your blood drawn, but Cassandra takes no time at all to find the perfect spot, likely from a mix of practice and, well, her vampiric nature. It’s not long before she’s gently gripping your arm with one hand, briefly making eye contact before pushing the needle into your skin. Does it hurt? Hardly. Do you take a shaky inhale, hoping to please your employer, the closest to a whimper you were willing to give her? Oh, absolutely. And does she react? Oh, absolutely. Her eyes light up for a second as she bites her lower lip. There’s something else in her expression that you can’t quite read, however.

“Enjoying this, hmm?” You ask, smiling, voice soft in the hopes of not aggravating her headache. It’s a risk, and one that pays off more than you’d ever expect. Cassandra giggles a tad, eying you with the least mischievous smile you’ve ever seen from her. If not for the needle still in your arm, you might have found the moment charming, or even… romantic. But you pushed the thought away as soon as possible, reminding yourself of your one true goal: Escaping. This was a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s what you had to keep telling yourself. Even as Cassandra ever-so-gently removed the needle from your arm, even as she carefully placed a bandage over the entry-point, even as she gave you a nod of approval.

“This should last until the painting is done, at the very least. I might need you to make another ‘donation’ next week, though. Except, hmm… your blood is quite nice,” Cassandra says. Her tone is smooth, almost sultry, but her gaze is focused on her work as she starts mixing the blood with… something? You weren’t familiar with this particular artistic process, nor did you want to be. “Maybe I’ll set up a nice schedule for you. Once a month you can be my darling little muse, and once a month you can be a refreshing snack. I’ll even make sure that my sisters don’t do anything that might spoil our fun. Assuming you continue to prove entertaining, that is.” You didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. In the end you settled for the former, chest thrumming with excitement as you felt yourself getting one step closer to your goal.

—————————

Three months pass by in an easy blur. Just as Cassandra had suggested, you find yourself in her company more often than before. Only twice a month does she take blood from you, for your own safety (which she pretends not to care about), but more and more you find her lounging around where you’re working, obviously by “pure coincidence”. Sometimes she even spoke to you! Teasing here and there, or asking you to do things that she normally did for herself, or scaring you just to hear you make one of your “lovely noises”. Honestly, you weren’t sure whether you were more surprised by how attached she had gotten to you, or by how quickly it had happened. Of course, you didn’t even know if she enjoyed your personality… or just your blood. Either way, you found yourself enjoying her presence more than you’d ever openly admit.

Eventually, when the benefits of your budding “friendship” became more clear, you started to enjoy it even more.

It was early in the morning, right when the castle residents tended to go to sleep, and when the night shift officially ended. Minutes prior you had been conversing quietly with Cassandra, dusting some shelves as you did. Now, with your duties done only slightly later than usual, you were making your way back to your quarters. Along the way you were caught off guard by the sound of distant crying. ‘Twas a sound you’d heard many times before, from many different maidens, but this time felt… different. An odd feeling of sympathy sparked in your chest, and you made the brash decision to approach the source of the noise. When you rounded that last corner, when you made eye contact with the trembling figure, you knew that your kindness could very well be the death of you. To think that you had once hoped for this encounter.

“Who’s there?” Bela Dimitrescu snarls through chattering teeth. She’s moving forward, phasing in and out of swarm mode, reaching a hand out to clutch at your throat. Well, you think, at least she’s stopped crying? More so out of being distracted, instead of feeling any comfort from your company. It’s not a terribly reassuring thought, but it’s soon replaced with a mental string of ???? as Bela pauses, grip loosening as she holds you up in the light. “You’re Cassandra’s new favorite. Damnit!” With that she drops you rather unceremoniously. Then she’s turning her back to you, sniffling before wiping the tears from her eyes. “Don’t tell anyone about this, or I won’t hesitate to string you up, no matter what my sister says. Now get lost.”

Except you can’t force yourself to move. There’s a small piece of you that remembers your original plan, another small part feels a twinge of sympathy, and a majority of your brain sees this as an opportunity. What was a little more risk?

“Would you like me to bring you some tea, Lady Bela?” You ask, attempting to keep your tone neutral, lest she think you were judging her. In response, she turns to look at you slowly, eyes narrowed, thinly veiled rage only outweighed by the remnants of her anxiety. Then she’s stalking forward with cautious, deliberate movements. For a moment she searches your eyes for any hints at your motive. Hoping to ease her worries, you elaborated on your offer, and the reasoning behind it. “I’ve read that holding something warm in your hands, like a mug of tea or coffee, relaxes the brain. I believe it had something to do with mimicking human touch?... Forgive me if I’m overstepping your boundaries, my Lady. I… I felt compelled to ask, to help in whatever way I can.”

“Oh?” Bela hums, the majority of the anger draining from her face. There’s a hint of genuine surprise behind her bright eyes. “Very well, if you say it might… help.” Before you can turn to leave, you hear her clear her throat, and say one last thing. “A little softer than I would have expected from a pet of Cassandra’s.” She certainly had a point. But you don’t bother responding, instead focusing on your self-given task. In the back of your mind, you wonder if you were really Cassandra’s “pet”, or if there was more to your dynamic. Why did you feel so weird about the idea of being a mere “distraction” to her?... Something to think about while you made that tea, you supposed.

—————————

When you assisted with serving lunch the next day, Bela refused to make eye contact, even as you set a plate in front of her, or when you refilled her wine glass. There was a stiffness in the room that you weren’t familiar with. For the most part, Cassandra is more welcoming, giving you a small nod when you meet her gaze. By the time the family is done eating and moves to leave, the sisters are grouping together to speak in hushed voices. While you clean up after them, you cannot help but wonder if they’re discussing the previous night, or if Bela was as adamant about keeping quiet as she had seemed. Regardless, you felt rather good about how the conversation had gone. Hopefully she’s feeling better, you think, surprising yourself. Not that it matters… unless she tells Cassandra, I suppose.

You don’t see her for the rest of the day. It’s a double-edged sword, in a way. On one hand, you find yourself missing her, unused to not interacting with her at all. On the other hand? All the sudden you’re realizing just how involved she’s become with you. Certainly that meant something? Progress towards your eventual goal of escaping? God, you sure hoped so. Thinking about the future, about your plans, lasts you the entire night, thoughts following you all the way into bed. Sleep feels a million years away, and you find yourself staring silently at the ceiling. Unmoving. Damn near unblinking. When there’s the sound of footsteps outside your room, you are more than welcome for the distraction.

“Wake up, little pet,” a voice calls, as your door opens, and someone quickly slips inside. Before you can even sit up, you feel them slide into the bed with you. “It’s too cold in my room. You’re much warmer, aren’t you?” Clearly your darling Cassandra come to entertain herself. Considering how late in the day it is, you feel like you should be upset, and yet you feel yourself daring to wrap your arms around her. For a moment she goes stiff, but she soon relaxes into your touch. “You’re getting so good at knowing what I want from you. Mmm, I think I’ve trained you well,” she teases, shifting onto her back so she can pull you onto her chest. Although you’ve been this close to her before, this is the first time you’ve realized just how cold her skin is. No wonder she wants to sleep with me, you think, blushing at your unintentional wording.

“Fuck, you’re freezing,” you mumble, curling up against her nonetheless. She’s laughing then, without any hint of her usual malice, and you can’t help but laugh with her. When had the two of you gotten so warm with each other? Why did it feel so natural? There’s anxiety gnawing at the base of your skull, threatening to build up into a headache, tugging you away from the softness of the moment. If Cassandra notices, she’s quicker to act than you would have expected. It feels safer to believe that her next actions are a coincidence. Feels… better, when you remember that you are playing her for cheap, that any friendliness is a mockery made for the most bitter of betrayals to come.

“That’s why I’m here, dear. Now hush, I need some rest. With how comfortable you are… I may even let you sleep in,” she teases, before pressing the gentlest kiss to the top of your head. Your throat dries up in response, blush overtaking your cheeks, and you are left unable to speak. The thundering of your heart seems to somehow lull your would-be lover to sleep, while you find yourself growing to love the contrast her chill provides. Somehow, someway, you end up sleeping more soundly than you have in years.

—————————

Another month passes. No opportunities to escape, no grand moves to make in this 4D game of chess, no clever plans to entangle yourself in. Yet you find yourself content. Happy. The work keeps you as busy as ever, but Cassandra often steals you away for her own desires. When she goes to drink your blood, she does so gently, with many soft kisses leading into the big moment. Afterwards she cleans your wound herself, touches as light as a feather, eyes sparkling with unspoken affection. At night, you find her coming to you for warmth almost every day. At first she provides little more than teasing excuses. But in time, she becomes more open, even being so bold as to kiss you on the lips every time, greeting you with quiet “dear”s and “darling”s. It gets to the poin that you cannot sleep without her presence.

Day after day, you find it harder and harder to remember why you were doing this. Was it so bad to enjoy your time with her? Was it so bad to find yourself leaning into her touches, kissing her back, gleefully awaiting your nightly rendezvous with her? Sometimes the thoughts were overwhelming, guilt and shame alike dancing inside your chest. Those days were the hardest to get through. Somehow, again and again, you go to her for comfort. To the very source of your conflict. Every last feeling was driving you towards an inevitable point. A conclusion written in stone, one that had been decided from the very first time Cassandra dug her fangs into your neck.

—————————

Screaming. Horrible, horrible screaming, somehow more pained than that of any maiden you had ever heard, echoing throughout the castle halls, achingly familiar in tone. You had never heard her scream before, and yet you knew that the sound came from Cassandra. Before you can even begin to process your realization, you are thundering through the corridor, towards the noise that rattled your mind so desperately. How could anything possibly hurt her? How often had you seen her push her siblings around, each of them taking hits that could break bones as if they were light shoves? As if the punches tickled? Horror overtakes your thoughts, imagination far worse than reality had any right to be.

When you at last reach your lover, you are frozen in your tracks, eyes wide as can be. There she is, howling with both rage and pain as someone repeatedly slams the butt of a rifle into her head. Behind the fighting duo is a sight you never thought you’d see: An open door. Wide open, enticing, leading straight into the world you had sought to rejoin. You want to leave. God, you want to leave so bad. This is what you have been waiting for- Cassandra has not even seen you yet, too busy grappling with her attacker, movements too slow to be normal. What was wrong? Why were her limbs such a strange color? Was that… frost on her clothes? Or… crystal? Your gaze flickers back and forth between her and the exit, as time seems to pause, memories of the past few months racing through your mind. Goddamnit, you think, this is what I want, isn’t it? Consequences be damned, right? I said I wouldn’t stop for anything.

And so you move, automatically, on autopilot, unable to think about anything other than what you treasured most: Cassandra. One moment you’re standing still in the foyer, the next you’re grabbing a poker from the fireplace. You’ve never done anything like this before, but the movements come naturally, as you surge towards the scrambling pair. In one swift motion you drive the metal rod into the skull of the intruder, hating the sound, hating the splatter of blood against your clothes, hating the feeling of resistance followed by a terrible, terrible give. But the man slumps almost immediately, allowing your girlfriend to shove him off of herself. Still unable to think coherently, you’re throwing yourself into her arms.

“Holy shit, holy shit, oh my god, I- I, fuck. Are you…? Fucking tell me that you’re okay, please,” you ramble, holding the dangerously cold body of your girlfriend close to you, refusing to let go. She’s crying, clinging to you as desperately as you cling to her. But she’s responding in the affirmative. Over and over, saying she’s okay, telling you that it’s okay. Before you know it, she’s the one comforting you.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Okay? Look at me, take a deep breath. If anyone should be freaking out it’s me,” she says, pulling back enough to cup your cheek with one hand. There’s blood on her fingers, making your eyes go wide, but she quickly wipes it off with a scowl. Then she’s caressing your skin again, soft repeating motions perfect for calming you down. “That’s right, see? We’re fine. You’re a fucking badass, darling, and honestly? It’s very attractive.” Now you’re both giggling, you a bit more than her. Because of course she’s flirting right now. It’s an incredible softness. One that you, quite frankly, do not feel you deserve. At first it’s a tiny voice in the back of your head, but it soon grows until it strikes the smile from your lips. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Shit, are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine, really,” you interject, as fast as you can, ignoring the tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Cassandra isn’t convinced, however, and gives you a pleading look. Knowing that you cannot resist her, you close your eyes, sighing, then admit your wretched truth. “The door. Cassandra, the door’s open. I… I came down the hallway and I saw the two of you and I saw the fucking door and I… I hesitated. I hesitated.” There’s a mighty tremble to your voice, teeth and lips shaking. In the moment, you cannot bring yourself to meet her gaze, eyes instead glued to the bloodstained floor. It’s so quiet that you swear you can hear your tears hitting the tile. The air around you is filled with a looming heartache, a shadow over the two of you, hungry for your tears. But the rage you anticipate from Cassandra never comes.

For fuck’s sake, she pulls you closer. She takes you in her arms, making you rest your head against her chest, one hand gently rubbing circles into your back. Shock makes you unable to do anything other than linger limply in her grip. Thankfully, she has more than enough words for the both of you.

“Of course you did. All you ever wanted was to escape, right? And all I ever wanted was to see how much fun I could get out of you before you betrayed us,” she admits, coolly, as if the words didn’t break both of your hearts. At first, you merely start crying harder, realizing that she had seen through you this whole time. Realizing that all of her softness had just been sharpness covered in sheep’s clothing. Except she’s not done talking. “Now look at us. Couple of idiots who caught feelings. So shut up, because we’re in this mess together, now, and I don’t intend to let you go, understood? You-” she pulls back, looking you right in the eyes- “are mine. Besides… you just killed for me. I think that more than makes up for any hesitance, yeah?” Before you know it you’re kissing her. You’re pressing yourself to her, smiling through your tears, forced to pause to laugh at yourself. How ridiculous had this whole affair been? How had you convinced yourself, for so long, that escape was all you had cared about?...

All this time you thought you wanted out. But at the end of the day… you just wanted to go home. How could you have guessed that you would have found a new home, here, in someone’s arms? Despite the surprise of it all… you couldn’t be happier.

[weirdthoughtsandideas]

DCLA fandom, what were your first reactions/impression to the individual fandoms for each show?

For me:

Violetta: Ok, so I got into the fandom already when I was 11 and back then my reaction was ”I know so much more than all these children” and went around in comment sections already then analyzing the shit out of the show. I thought I knew it better than everyone else tho, so I probably was pretty annoying lol. But when I got back to the fandom when I was older, my reaction was ”Oh my gosh there’s people here who hasn’t negative things to say about Violetta!!” (Cause in 2019-early 2020 many people just wrote hate posts about Violetta on Tumblr, and how it sucked and made no sense). And since other people were excited, I was like ”I CAN TALK ABOUT IT MORE!!!!!!”

Soy Luna: No you guys scared the shit out of me. Honestly. I thought you were so aggressive and could attack people if they didn’t like what everyone else liked. When SL first came out I was in my ”I am too old for these shows” phase and thought it looked incredibly childish. I also didn’t want to see it out of spite for a couple of years because people said it was better than Violetta and they said it in such a mocking way. ”Violetta SUCKS SO MUCH and Soy Luna is GOD TIER” - that’s how people talked in 2016/2017. I naturally became offended because Violetta was my middle school obsession show?? I know it has flaws but it has helped me so much and literally shaped me as a person so it was like when you say it sucks you say that I suck. And then I started watching it and I really did like it. But I still stuck around to my mutuals who had seen it but ALSO had seen Violetta, so I had like a ”safe crew” who wouldn’t judge me + seemed to agree on my takes. But there were some non-mutuals who I noticed did start to come to my blog and while they didn’t ”attack” me, I noticed they were like ”hm, I don’t think like that! 🤔”. Idk how to explain it - but it was like they kept watch of everything I said and hoped I said the ”right” things. For a while I used to say ”please don’t comment on this” or ”please don’t @ me for this” just because I didn’t want any drama. But after a while, I let go a bit and realized, hey, these are just as friendly as the V-lovers (and what I forget sometimes is that some V-lovers can be quite aggressive and judgemental too! Jesus Christ… it was just that I was more used to it so it didn’t bother me as much). So now I realize the SL fandom, it’s kinda cool!

Bia: Well, there weren’t a lot of people talking about Bia, so I knew very little about it. But I found the small fandom to be quite friendly. Except for that one (1) anon who was like ”Bia is so much better than the others WHY HAVEN’T YOU WATCHED IT” like dude that show was not even OUT in my country what am I supposed to do?? Anyway, not much changed after I had seen Bia. I think they are very cozy and cute bunch of people.

Entrelazados: Idk why I included this, because literally everyone who talked about it was my own mutuals. We created the entrelazados fandom and it’s not very active. It’s probably gonna be more once s2 comes.

[theinternetisaweboflies]

Electric Boogie Chapter 3 (Chapter 1)

Content warning: Starting with this chapter, there will be references to physical and emotional child abuse.

Frankie was the first person who didn’t appear to be bothered by the House. She walked right up to the correct door, which happened to be a porthole in the middle of a belladonna patch, and knocked three times.

To be fair, the House didn't get many visitors. The Boogeyman's House was nobody's favorite place, least of all his, judging by how little time he spent there. 

It was all funhouse mirrors and wallpaper that only looked like it was reflected in a funhouse mirror. The doors changed their minds regularly. So did the floors. All that M.C. Eschering made furniture less than ideal, so Tylwa had compromised by sewing as many lounge pillows as possible. She had to steal sheets from some of the children she visited, but she made sure it was only at houses almost as big as her own.

"Thank you so much for having me!"

Frankie pulled her in for a hug as soon as the porthole was open. It was a little awkward with Twyla only halfway through, but once again, it was not entirely unwelcome.

Frankie has always respected Twyla's boundaries… except for the physical ones. Grabbing her hand when they ran from the lightning storm was understandable, but after that there was a hand on her shoulder, then the small of her back, and then there was the hug.

Frankie was smart. She must have noticed hers was the only physical touch that didn't make Twyla's skin itch. When any other monster tried to touch her, she phased right out of the physical realm. When Frankie touched her, she… didn't mind.

She did freeze up, but that was just unfamiliarity. Twyla wasn't used to physical contact that didn't come from the back of a hand.

Dad had never appreciated it when she got in the way of his work.

Most of the time she could hide from him- Twyla hadn't been joking when she told Frankie that spying on people was what she did best. Sometimes, as evidenced by recent events, she freaked everything up.

It was no big deal. She could phase out of the physical realm after all. When she was fast enough.

"Please, come in. Sorry about the ladder."

"No worries!" Frankie called, cheerfully if echo-y. "You would not believe how much time I end up spending in the Catacombs."

"The Ghoul Squad, right?" Twyla asked before remembering she wasn't supposed to know about that. "Sorry. It's easy to overhear things when you're invisible. It's usually not on purpose."

Frankie laughed as she jumped the last few rungs to land in Twyla's front hall.

"No worries! It's not exactly a secret. Especially not with how much Cleo brags about it."

"And complains about it," said Twyla, and Frankie laughed again.

Frankie scoped out the House without an ounce of subtlety. "So the reason you have thirteen refrigerators is because you have…"

"Seven kitchens and six kitchenettes. Most days. I think the House is trying to remind me to eat. Speaking of which, are you hungry? If you're not ready for dinner, I have brownies. No dirt, I promise." She didn't mention they were from a mix. Batty Crocker, she was not.

Frankie laughed yet again. Maybe it was the electricity overdose.

"Are you okay?" Twyla resisted the urge to check her temperature. She didn't even know the right temperature for a simulacrum of corpses.

"I'm fine." Frankie cocked her head to one side. "Why?"

"Well, that was a lot of electricity you took in the other day. Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, and I promise to tell you if I'm not. If I've learned anything from all of this, it's that I can ask you for help." Frankie gave her a calculating look. Twyla didn't know what it was calculating, but she sucked in her stomach just in case. "You know you can ask me for help too."

"Oh," said Twyla. "Of course."

"And if you're up for it, the Ghoul Squad would love to have you at our next group creepover."

"Thanks. I'll… think about it. Okay?"

"Good enough," said Frankie. "Now... about those brownies?"

This time Twyla laughed too.

[going-dead]

Lightning Scars and Listening Ears

Phic phight prompt by @datawyrms : Danny Phantom's jumpsuit is hiding a secret he'd rather not reveal to anyone. (feel free to be metaphorical if you want.) l

Team Human: @currentlylurking​

Most citizens of Amity Park often forgot that Phantom wasn’t human. Sure he would fly through the skies, turn invisible, and shoot ectoplasm at the ghosts who would attack the city on a daily basis, but the way he acted when not saving the city always seemed so alive. That’s where the problem lied though. The ghost kid wasn’t alive, a fact that Amity Park never actually thought much about.

Phantom was playing around with some kids in the park when it all happened. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence to see the boy play with the younger citizens of the city, under their parents supervision most of the time. Seeing him give them piggyback rides and playing tag was actually a common sight when there were no ghosts to fight. Phantom had six different kids hanging off of his arms and legs, apparently trying to tackle him and get him to fall down. The group of parents laughed at the sight as the teenage hero fell to the ground admitting his defeat in a dramatic flourish. “Ahh you got me! Foul villains, you will regret this!” He laughed as he lunged at the closest kid and launched a tickle attack. Childish squeels rang out as the uncaptured children ran trying to avoid being tickled. The little girl in his arms was finally released from her attacker when she turned on Phantom and started to tickle him back. His laughter attracted the other kids who scattered and they joined the counter attack.

“I yield I yield!” He flailed his arms as a dozen little hands tickled any spot they could reach. The kids slowly let up their assault leaving the teen gasping for breath.

One of the children, the girl who started the attack on Phantom, pulled on his arm. “Mr. Phantom? What’s that did you get a owie?” She asked pointing to his neck where part of his jumpsuit wrinkled down revealing a few red raised streaks maring his skin.

Phantom froze eyes jumping over to the adults just a few feet over who had stopped their conversation to try to see what the young girl was asking about. He quickly pulled the collar of his suit back into place. He gave the girl and the other kids surrounding him a pained smile. “Yeah I did get an owie. Don’t worry though I’m fine, doesn’t even hurt anymore.” Suddenly blue frost escaped his lips, the adults sitting nearby never saw him more relieved to have a ghost show up than in that moment. He gave quick goodbyes to the kids before shooting off to find the day's threat to the city.

All the adults gathered waved over their respective kids. While they trusted Phantom to get rid of the threat it was always smart to stay inside during a ghost attack. A loud boom sounded in the direction where Phantom flew off, shaking the ground. They all gave each other uncertain looks. “My house is closest we can take shelter there.” One of the men said leading everyone away.

After a block of running the group was almost to shelter when the ghost fight moved over their heads. The adults grabbed onto the children doing their best to shield them from the flying debris. They held the kids against their chests as they watched the sky in horror. They didn’t recognize the attacking ghost, but it was certainly doing a number on Phantom. The rest of the battle lasted at most a minute when Phantom managed to suck up the ghost into his thermos before he seemed to wobble in the sky and falling to the ground creating a small crater where he landed.

The man who was leading the group passed off the kid he was holding to the man next to him. “David what are you-?”

“Brian just hold her.” He ran over to the fallen teen and picked him up in a fireman's carry and rushed the rest of the way to his house.

Once he arrived he kicked open the door and placed the teen onto the couch in his living room. He looked down trying to assess the situation. Phantom’s jumpsuit was torn in numerous places exposing spots of his arms, neck, and chest that had splatterings of green ectoplasm across the exposed flesh. He started taking the rest of the jumpsuit off of the teen wanting to make sure there were no hidden injuries underneath. Behind him he could hear his husband and the other parents come through the door. “Get me a wet rag and some warm water!” He yelled behind him.

Once he was handed the items he started working on cleaning up the cuts and wiping off the ectoplasm. He silently thanked any higher being out there that he took a first aid class a few years back. The wounds actually seemed less severe than what David initially thought, that or the kid had some seriously advanced healing. One of the parents led the kids upstairs while the rest of them crowded around David and Phantom.

Once Phantom was as patched up as he could be David finally sat back and actually took a full look at the boy. His breath caught in his throat as he examined the body infront of him. In the end all he could get out was.“Oh my god. He’s- he’s dead.”

“What the hell do you mean? Of course he’s not, I can clearly see him breathing right now.” One of the parents protested.

David shook his head. “No.” He went to run his hands down his face before spotting the blood- no the ectoplasm covering them and settled for grabbing onto his husband for support. “No, I mean he’s a ghost.”

“Well yeah he’s a ghost it’s not like that’s news now is it?” Brian said running his hand up and down his husband's back.

“You guys don’t get it.” David pulled back. “Think! Look!” He ran his hand through his hair, staining it green. “Look at him.” He pointed at the teen’s unconscious body. There were lightning shaped scars running all over the boy’s body, from the base of his neck trailing all the way down to his ankles. Those weren’t the only scars marring his body though, small scars were scattered all over his body, there was a rather large one on his abdomen in the same spot where he was hit the other week fighting off a ghost who was attacking the high school. The gathered adults looked back at Phantom’s face. As he slept he almost looked like a normal teenager, there were small bags under his eyes, his closed eyes hid the toxic green color, and the glow surrounding him was almost nonexistent.

Three things seemed to dawn on the parents all at once.

1: Phantom at some point had died

2: He died young, at most he was just out of middle school when it happened.

3: From the looks of it he didn’t die in his sleep but painfully. They all silently hoped that at least it wasn’t drawn out.

As they all looked at each other they couldn’t help but think of their own children who were just upstairs. Did Phantom have a family? Did his parents miss their little boy? Do they know that Phantom was their son? Even worse, the boy had a jumpsuit on when he died, was his parents the cause of his premature death?

Of course if Phantom was conscious, didn’t have to worry about the whole identity thing, and could read their minds the boy would quickly put their minds to rest responding; yes, no he sees them daily, god no, and sorta it really was more of a case of teenage stupidity than his parents fault though.

Two of those issues though were quickly resolved as two white rings shocked the group out of their grief for a boy they hardly knew. The rings traveled across the boy’s body replacing bare skin with street clothes and white hair with black. Everyone looked at Phantom(?) confused, the boy in front of them was very unghost-like and the scratch on his face that was previously bleeding green now had a red where the scab was forming.

“What the fu- wait isn’t that the Fenton kid, Danny I think?” David asked looking back at the other parents who were in the same amount of shock that he was. Actually he was positive it was him, his older sister Jazz used to babysit their daughter and he would sometimes come along. If someone was going to respond they were cut off as the boy in front of them started to stir and open his eyes. He sat up almost falling off the couch in his panic, thankfully David was quick enough to catch him. “Woah there Danny, be careful you took a pretty bad beating out there. Hell I’m surprised you’re already awake to be honest kid.”

Danny gave him a thankful smile as he steadied himself. He froze once he caught a glimpse of his hair, his eyes shot down to his clothes. He looked back up and noticed the group of adults in front of him. “Now before you jump to any conclusions there’s a very reasonable explanation for this, or there will be just give me a few minutes.” “Wait so does this mean you’re not dead?” Brian asked.

“Brian you can’t just ask that! What if it’s a sensitive subject?” David scolded his husband then looked over at Danny. “Sorry about him.”

Danny looked over to the men who for some reason had hope in their eyes. “What? It’s fine. I mean I guess no- well yes- no- sorta- it’s complicated.”

As Danny looked at the numerous questioning eyes he sighed. It’s not like he could convince them that it was a trick of the light or something. And he did owe them since they patched him up better than he would have been able to at home in his bedroom. But before he could start he turned to David. “I’ll tell you guys everything but first um… is that my ectoplasm in your hair and on your hands? Because if so you probably should wash that off, prolonged exposure isn’t harmful per say but you could start to glow or something if you don’t wash it off soon.”

David looked down to his hands, apparently just now remembering he was still covered in the boy’s ectoplasm and rushed to the bathroom to wash it off. He’d worry about why the sight of his own blood- ectoplasm didn’t phase Danny at all later.

Once David returned, now free of ectoplasm, Danny sat down and started from the beginning. At one point in the story he must have started to cry because he was handed a tissue box, which he accepted with a thanks. By the end he wasn’t the only one with tears in his eyes, one of the adults had to go into the kitchen to compose themselves. Danny didn’t really understand why though, sure he sort of half died, but he didn’t see why it would affect any of them. “Hey! It’s fine, I’m fine it’s not a big deal! I mean it’s not like it only happened to me. Vlad went through it too like 20 years ago.” Danny seized up after he said that. “Don’t tell him you know about him though! Me not telling anyone about him is the only reason he’s not trying to fully kill me when we fight. That and he has a weird obsession with my mom and me.”

David paused at that. “So you’re telling us that not only did you go through a highly traumatic situation at a young age, but the only adult that even knows about it has tried to kill you multiple times?”

“I mean I guess but Jazz, my sister, knows about it too and she’s older than me and my friends.”

“Danny she’s also still a kid, an older one sure, but she is not an adult. Even if you didn’t go to your parents, was there no one else you could have talked to about it with? A therapist maybe?” David asked.

Danny laughed. “Ah no, Jazz tried having me go to the school therapist but she turned out to be a ghost who wanted to try to cause as much pain as possible. She even almost killed Jazz in front of the whole school.”

“Dear god.” David sighed. “All right, we will all keep your secret on one condition.”  Danny cringed and looked down at his lap, of course there was a catch. He just hoped it wasn’t anything too bad like letting them run a bunch of experiments on him whenever they wanted to. His ghost injuries were bad enough to hide from others, he didn’t need to have to explain away needle marks or something. “You’ll see Brian once a week for therapy sessions. He’s a licensed psychiatrist.”

“Wait what?” Danny looked up confused.

“Oh don’t worry I won’t charge you of course since we are forcing you to do this, and obviously you can choose the day of the week. I usually don't work fridays or the weekends but if those are the only days that work I’m sure we can rearrange some of our family time to make room for you.” Brian smiled. “Now it’s getting pretty late isn’t it? I’m sure it’s about time everyone here starts to head home now hmm? Of course if you aren’t feeling well enough Danny I can call your parent’s up and just let them know you’ll be staying here. I’ll just tell them you were injured in a ghost fight, not exactly lying now is it?”

“Um no I’m fine enough to walk home thank you though.” Danny said. Everyone started saying their goodbyes and calling the children down to get them ready to leave. Danny was the last one left, he was almost out the door when he was stopped by David handing him a piece of paper.

“Here are our numbers, I also wrote down where Brian’s office is, you can set up your appointment over text. As well as our address, you can stop by or call us for any reason Danny and I mean it okay, any.”

Danny looked down at the paper and pocketed it with a nod. As he left he felt almost lighter for some reason. Maybe having adults who knew and didn’t want to kill him but actually wanted to help him wasn’t so bad after all.

[kinglazrus]

Deep Wounds Ch. 1 - Who's to Blame?

Phic Phight | Next | AO3 | FFN

Submitted by @q-gorgeous: Identity reveal. Dash finds out Danny is Phantom. Could be swagger bishie or not, either or is okay.

Submitted by @aj-itated: Dash catches Danny changing after gym, and spots a huge (poorly stitched) wound on his side. Dash is now convinced Danny is either abused or part of a gang, and has no idea how to deal with either - or how to interact with Danny, now that he can't bully him.

Summary: Dash didn't mean to see it, not that it was his fault. If Danny didn't want anyone to notice the bloody mess on his side, then he shouldn't be checking his bandages in the middle of the boy's changing room. But it's too late, and Dash has no clue what to do now that he thinks Danny might be getting hurt at home.

Word count: 4253

“He’s gonna know.”

As Tucker's shadow falls over him, Danny starts, rudely yanked out of his daydream. The hand cradling his chin drops to his lap, fingers brushing the grass, and he fixes Tucker with a confused glare. "What?"

"You are super unsubtle," Tucker says. "He's gonna knooow."

Tucker and singsong aren’t two words Danny would normally use together, but it is the best way to describe the lyrical bounce in Tucker's voice as he drops onto the grass. Too bad his musical prowess seems limited to teasing jabs and not the screeching caterwaul Danny usually associates with Tucker and singing.

"What are you talking about?" Danny asks, his annoyance mounting.

"Oh, come on." Tucker leans back and sweeps his arm out to the field, motioning to the warm-up game some of their classmates are playing, which Danny had been watching fervently until he was interrupted. His gaze skims over the scuffle taking place over the ball, settles briefly on Dash lounging in front one of the nets, then goes back to Tucker.

"I don't know what you mean," Danny says.

"Tucker, be nice. Don't tease the oblivious," Sam cuts in. Sitting on Danny's left, she is flipping through a book rather than watches the scrimmage. How she got the book past Tetslaff, Danny has no idea. Magic, maybe. The more likely answer is that Tetsflaff saw it and just didn't care since Sam one of the best students in their class.

Danny could never get away with it, though. "Seriously. What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, poor Danny." Tucker tsks and shakes his head. "In time, you, too, shall mature enough to understand your own emotions."

"I'm mature enough to ectoblast you in the face," Danny says.

"That is literally the exact opposite of mature."

"You're the exact opposite of mature."

"Game time!" Tetslaff's bellow cuts off what surely would have been a clever retort from Tucker. Her booming voice, powerful enough to challenge Danny's father's, echoes across the field and brings the scrimmage to a halt. At the far net, Dash rises to his feet and brushes the grass from his shorts.

"Captains!" Tetslaff calls. Valerie and Dash's hands shoot into the air, faster than anyone else's. Sam, still focused on her book, raises her hand half-heartedly, then lowers it to turn the page. No one else offers to be team captain, but Tetslaff doesn't seem to mind. This is how their classes usually go when they do team sports. "You know the drill. Pick your players, take your positions, and for heaven's sake, someone take Fenton."

Snickers break out through the class. Danny drops his face into his hands, muffling a groan against his palms.

He hates gym class for a lot of reasons. For one, sports aren't really his thing. He might be strong, thanks to his ghost half, but that doesn't make him any better at sports. Because of that, he's usually the last picked when it comes to games like soccer. And then there's Dash, who sucks sometimes, but he used to suck more. A lot more. He has mellowed out since freshman year, although he's not opposed to jostling Danny in the hallway now and then.

But the absolute worst thing about gym class is playing when he's injured; it doesn't happen often. Danny's been ghost fighting for nearly three years now, and he doesn't get hurt as much as he used to. Experience has wizened him up to the wonders of dodging. His enemies still get lucky sometimes, though, and last night, Technus got him good. Hacking and slashing isn't usually Technus' thing, but the rabid dishwasher the ghost sicked on Danny was damn good at it. He has the deep slash across his left side to show it.

It's healing well, but a wound like that needs more than a few hours before he is back in peak condition. Sam, whose house was closest after the fight, stitched Danny up as best as she could. Both she and Tucker had gotten good at that over the years, but for all Sam's skill, she was still just a high schooler who learned off YouTube tutorials. Before bed, Danny bound the wound tight, took a couple of Advil, and slept with an icepack slapped against his side.

It still hurts like hell, though.

A sharp whistle pierces Danny's thoughts. He winces at the noise, along with most of the class. Dash and Valerie, the victims of Tetslaff's ire, actually flinch.

"Baxter, Grey, stop bickering," Tetslaff says.

Caught up in his thoughts, Danny hadn't noticed their argument, but it's impossible to miss the tight anger in Valerie's crossed arms or the annoyance in Dash's glare.

"Baxter, Grey made her pick. Mr. Cheong goes with her." Tetslaff points at Kwan, then jerks her thumb toward Valerie. With a despondent sigh, Dash pats Kwan on the back, watching his best friend trudge to Valerie's team as if he was going to his grave.

"They're so dramatic," Danny says.

Tucker nods in agreement. "I know, right?"

Sam lowers her book to stare at them. "You cannot be serious."

"What did we say?" Danny asks.

Sam sighs and rolls her eyes but doesn't elaborate further.

Back on the field, Valerie gestures to the dwindling number of classmates yet to be claimed. "Your next pick," she says to Dash.

Dash scans the lineup, his gaze lingering on Danny for a few moments before skipping right over Tucker to Sam. "Manson, you're with me."

"Ugh, of course." Sam marks her page and passes the book to Danny. "You gonna be okay? How's your side?"

He holds back a grimace. "I'm good. I'll tell Tetslaff I'm sick or something so I can sit out."

Sam nods, satisfied, and joins Dash's team.

"Tucker!" Valerie calls.

"Good luck, dude." Tucker gently pats Danny's shoulder before stepping onto the field.

With his friends gone, and the rest of the class distracted by the team pick, Danny shuffles over to Tetslaff. "I don't really feel good. Can I sit out?"

Tetslaff looks him up and down. "You gonna throw up?"

"I don't know. Maybe?"

"You got a fever?" Before Danny can even answer, Tetslaff slaps her hand against his forehead. He flinches back, wanting nothing more than to peel her warm palm off his skin. She holds it there for a few seconds before finally drawing away. "No fever. got a doctor's note?"

"Uh... no? I've been at school all morning."

"If you feel like you're about to throw up, book it off the field. Otherwise, you're playing."

"But—"

"Fenton, do you really want to be the only kid in Casper High history to fail gym class?" Tetslaff asks.

The threat might have been more effective if Danny hadn't spent half his high school career one bad grade away from flunking out, but he doesn't have the energy to fight her on it. "Okay, Coach."

"That's the spirit! Now get out there and show me some hustle!" Tetslaff slaps Danny on the back. He bites back a cry of pain as he stumbles forward, one hand shooting to cradle his side. Tetslaff's hand, though broad, missed the actual injury, but the sheer impact made his bones rattle and his wound flair with pain.

"Okay," Danny mutters. Just stay out of Dash's way and move enough to escape Tetslaff ire. It can't be that hard. He presses a hand to his side, feeling the thick gauze through his shirt. Closing eyes so that no one sees them glow, he phases his palm through his shirt and ices over his injury. The numbing cold helps, somewhat, and it should hold up for the whole class.

"I can do this." He falters when he steps toward the field. It looks like Valerie and Dash finished picking their teams while he was busy with Tetslaff and the game is already underway. He hovers on the sideline, unsure where to go.

"Getting worked up already?" Valerie's voice startles him.

Danny flinches and twists toward her, sending a sharp twinge across his ribs. He hisses, regretting the sudden move, and squeezes his side once more.

"You okay?" Valerie asks.

"Just fine. Sorry, what did you say?"

"You look like you're stressed out already. It's just soccer."

Danny rolls his eyes and nudges her arm. "Sure. Tell me that when Dash's team is up by five and I have stop you from kicking his kneecaps in."

Valerie laughs, no denial falling from her lips. "Oh, please. We both know I'd go for the throat. You're with me, by the way."

"Oh, thank God."

"Don't kid yourself, Danny. We both know you'd love to be on Dash's team."

Danny's mind blanks for a moment, his cheeks growing hot against his will. "Uh... what? He literally used to beat me up every day."

"Keyword, 'used to.' And I never said you had good taste." Valerie shrugs. "Except for me, at least. But don't worry about it. Now come on; I want you on defence. You suck at scoring, but at least you can take a hit."

Danny hopes he doesn't need to.

—

No hits come his way, to Danny's immense relief. At least they are playing soccer and not football. Or floor hockey, God forbid. Danny's ankles still smart from the last time they played that. With soccer, there's not a whole lot of opportunity for Danny to get knocked around. Stuck on defence, he even has an excuse to hang back, hold off on all that "hustle" Tetslaff wanted to see. His teammates charge up and down the field, shouting and jeering as they fight over the ball, and Danny gets to trail behind, halfway between the throng and his team's net. He spends most of his time watching Dash. Purely so that he's ready if Dash decides to go after him, not for any other reasons.

"Suuure that's the reason," Tucker says when he notices Danny staring.

"It is!" Danny's protest falls on deaf ears.

Dash catches Danny's gaze more than once. Rather than looking away, Danny can't resist offering a shit-eating grin and a friendly wave every time. If he had any self-preservation skills, he would stop immediately. But there's a reason he's half-ghost now, and it's definitely not because of his critical thinking skills.

He manages to stay out of the action, for the most part, only rushing in when the ball comes close to him. Otherwise, Tucker and Elliot handle the rest. Tucker knowingly spares him the pain of ripping his stitches. Elliot, meanwhile, likes to swoop in at every opportunity to show Danny up. It might have gotten a rise out of Danny any other day, but right now, when his side throbs every time he takes a step, Elliot is welcome to do whatever he wants.

When they have class outside, Danny can't tell how much time is left. He guesses they are about halfway through, and nothing bad has happened yet. Maybe he can get through this, after all.

That's when he jinxes himself.

"Heads up!" Valerie's warning shout comes just in time. Danny ducks instinctively, hissing when his injury pulls. The soccer ball flies over his head, skimming the top of his hair. Then, Dash collides with Danny, his shoulder digging into Danny's side. He cries out as he goes sprawling, hands shooting to his side. It burns, searing across his ribs, almost as bad as when he first got the wound. The pain makes his head spin and his breath ragged.

He must blackout for a moment, because one second his face is pressed against the cool grass, and then suddenly he's staring up into Tetsalff's concerned face, Valerie, Sam, and Tucker hovering behind her.

"Deep breaths, Fenton," Tetslaff says.

It would be great advice if breathing didn't make his chest expand, and his chest expanding didn't make the gash on his side strain against the few stitches that hadn't popped when Dash rammed into him at full speed. What the hell. That was such a dick move.

"Okay, Fenton. You're out for the rest of the class. Go to the nurse if you need to," Tetslaff says.

He nods but makes no move to get up. He doesn't know if he can.

Tetslaff sees his plight, whether she understands the reason for it or not, and barks over her shoulder. "Baxter! Your fault, your problem. Help Fenton inside."

"We can take him," Tucker says. At the same time, Dash whines, "Come on, Coach. There's no way I hit him that hard."

Tetslaff sticks out an arm, holding Sam and Tucker back. "Get to it, Baxter."

Dash groans but relents and steps into Danny's field of view. Rather than kneeling, or doing anything actually helpful, he bends down a little and sticks out his hand.

Danny stares at it.

"Well? You're holding up the game, Fenton."

Danny almost gets up on his own, just to spite Dash, but the second he tries to lever himself up, his side screams, and Danny has to bite back another cry of pain. Reluctantly, he grabs Dash's hand. Dash hauls him upright, far from gentle, and sets Danny down on his feet. Dash starts forward, but Danny hangs back.

"Hurry up," Dash says.

"Just... hold on a second." Danny squeezes his eyes shuts and clamps his hands against his side. The pressure helps, a little. If he's bleeding, it'll at least hide the evidence. He really hopes he put enough gauze on the wound. He didn't exactly think he'd be dealing with this today when he wrapped it.

"Dude, we can take you," Tucker says. He and Sam haven't moved away. Even Valerie still hovers close by, giving Danny a concerned look over his friends' shoulders.

"Manson, you're team captain until Dash gets back. Foley." Tetslaff shakes her head. "Your grades aren't much better than Fenton's here. Let's go, back on the field. It's game time.

"But—"

"It's fine, guys." Danny tries to smile, but he is sure it comes out like a grimace instead. Neither of them look like they believe him.

"Ms. Tetslaff!" Valerie steps in front of the teacher. "Danny's on my team. I want to make sure he's okay. Kwan can take over as captain for me."

"Okay, fine. Now let's get back to the game, people!" Tetslaff puts a hand on Sam and Tucker's shoulder each and pushes them toward the field. Over her shoulder, Sam mouths "Thank you" at Valerie.

"Can we just hurry up?" Dash says. Before Danny is ready, Dash's hand clamps down his shoulder and starts driving him forward. Danny stumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet, and is forced to open his eyes or else go tumbling all over again. Valerie appears on his injured side, walking fast to keep up with Dash's pace.

"Are you okay?" she asks. She reaches toward Danny, but holds back, her gaze flitting down to the hand over his ribs.

"Yeah, totally fine. I, uh, got caught up in that ghost fight yesterday, got a little bruised," he says.

"You should have told Tetslaff. She would have let you sit out," Valerie says.

"Yeah, I should have." Too bad Danny hadn't thought of that lie before. And it wasn't even a lie, technically.

The walk to the gym doors feels much farther than it did at the start of class. Dash yanks the door open once they're close enough and deposits Danny on the nearest bench. "There, you're fine. Whatever."

"Don't be such a dick, Dash," Valerie says.

Danny wobbles, bracing himself against the wall as he sits down. While Valerie helps, grabbing his arm and keeping him steady, Dash doesn't make a move.

"Are you sure you're okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I'm just gonna sit for a bit."

"If you say so." With one last concerned glance, Valerie leaves the gym.

Danny sits, one hand pressed against his side, feeling the deep, pulsing ache that won't leave. The ice he applied earlier hasn't faded yet, but if Danny's stitches are ripped as he suspects, a little numbing cold won't help for much longer.

Dash clears his throat, reminding Danny that he hasn't left yet.

"What?" Danny glares at him through half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry, or whatever. I thought you were gonna move, okay?"

"You sure sound sorry."

Dash bristles. "Whatever, Fenton. I was trying to be nice, but I guess I'll just fuck off then."

"Yeah, you do that."

Dash stomps out of the gym without looking back, slamming the door behind him. The bang echoes through the empty room. Alone at last, a whimper slips through Danny's lips. You would think that, over the years, he would get used to getting injured so much, learn to adjust to the pain. Whoever first said that was such a liar. It never stops hurting. Dizzying pain is dizzying pain no matter how often you experience it.

Danny sits for a few minutes, breathing slow and even, bracing himself for what he knows is coming. Peeling his hand away from his side, he checks his shirt. Faint pink splotches greet his eyes, not a lot, but enough to make him groan. He reaches under his shirt, slipping his fingers underneath the bandages, and probes the tender skin. His fingers come away slick and red.

"Shit." He applies a fresh coat of ice, enough to seal over the wound, and pushes himself off the bet, slick hand sliding against the wood. The entrance to the boys' changeroom lies only a few feet away, but it feels farther. He shuffles inside, bracing one hand against the wall. The hall leading in stretches for a good ten feet before cutting into a sharp right angle and opening into the main room.

The silence inside is just as oppressive as the quiet of the gym. Even though it's the middle of the school day, being here without the chatter of other boys as they change feels odd.

Danny lets himself slump onto the bench, breathing heavily

"I'm gonna kill Dash," he says to the empty room. But knowing his luck, Dash would come back as a ghost and haunt the hell out of him. It seems like the kind of asshole thing he would do

Danny fumbles for his bag, hooking his finger around the strap and dragging it close. It takes him a minute of digging to find his phone, which he stuffed inside at the start of class. He quickly checks the time. There are ten minutes left of class. More than enough time to check his side and get patched up before Tetslaff dismisses everyone to get changed.

The smart thing would be to go into one of the showers, make sure he has complete privacy, but he doesn't want to put in the effort of walking that far.

"It'll be fine," Danny says and gets to work

—

Dash doesn't return to the game. As the gym door slams beside him, he leans against the wall and stares down at his shoes. Outside, he looks composed, but in his head, his thoughts tumble about. He can't shake the image of Valerie's glare. Fenton couldn't take a hit, so what? It's not like Dash actually didanything. He's gotten Fenton a lot worse than that before. It's not his fault the guy was already banged up from some dumb ghost fight. Not his problem.

And yet, the pained cry as Dash bowled Danny over, the sight of his crumpled body on the grass... it makes Dash shudder.

"I apologized," he says. There's no one around to hear it, to justify him. He wonders what his therapist will say about this, if Dash bothers mentioning it at their next appointment.

Valerie's glare flashes through his mind again.

"Okay, fine!" He throws his arms up and shoves away from the wall. One quick moment to check on Danny, then he'll return to the game. He's only doing this so that his therapist doesn't give him that look on Monday; the look that isn't quite disappointed, because she could never be disappointed in one of her clients, but comes pretty damn close.

Dash only receives that look when he does something dumb, like shoving nerds in lockers or taking his anger out on someone else.

Dash eases the door to the gym back open and peeks inside. The bench he left Danny on is empty. A smear of red stands out against the pale wood. Dash creeps inside, closing the door quietly behind him. His heart sinks as he nears the bench, and comes to the unmistakable conclusion: blood.

Not my fault, Dash reminds himself. It does little in the way of reassurance. Walking briskly, he heads for the doors leading further into the school. If Danny is bleeding, he must have gone to the nurse. Which means he will be fine, but Dash needs to be sure.

A low groan stops him in his tracks.

For a moment, he thinks he imagined it, but then it comes again, accompanied by a pained hiss. The sound comes from the changing room. Holding his breath, he turns from the door and enters the changeroom.

Short, sharp breaths greet him, growing louder as he nears the main room. A shaky whimper cuts through, followed by a gasp.

Dash peeks around the corner. He sees Danny's shirt first, discarded on the bench. Next to it is a pile of wrappings. It looks like the ace bandages Dash uses whenever he gets a sprain, although he doesn't remember seeing Danny wearing any. And then, he looks to Danny himself and pales.

One arm drawn back, head tilted forward to see his side, Danny peels a stained gauze pad away from his bloody ribs. Suddenly, Dash can't breathe. His throat feels clogged. His heart hammers in his ear. The gash in Danny's side is easily the length of Dash's hand. It rips across his ribs and curves up toward his armpit, ending just under his arm. Dash doesn't know much about first aid, but the stitches holding the wound together look sloppy. They pull in different directions, turning what appears to be a clean cut into a wobbly mess. Around it, Danny's skin is stained red. Blood seeps between the stitches.

A few small drops slide down Danny's exposed skin as Dash watches, pooling briefly against the waistband of his gym shorts before they are absorbed

"Fuck," Dash whispers.

Danny jumps back, spinning mid-air to face Dash. In his horror, Dash doesn't think to question the impossibility of that action. Danny drops the gauze pad, which lands bloody side down on the floor, and clamps his arm down over the injury.

"What are you doing?" Danny's voice hitches, caught between an accusing growl and a startled squeak.

Dash gapes, mouth opening and closing as he searches for something to say. His mind comes up blank. "Danny, what... what the hell? What happened to you?"

Dash's voice seems to snap Danny out of his shock. All at once, his body goes rigid and his expression turns cold. "Get out."

"You need to go to the nurse!"

"DASH!" Danny bellows.

Dash stumbles back, falling against the wall. Tetslaff's laugh voice is loud. Jack Fenton's voice booms. But just now, Dash felt the floor shake under his feet. Danny's voice rumbled in Dash's chest, knocked him off his feet. The whole school must have heard it, they had to.

"I won't say it again. Get the hell out right now," Danny says.

Dash obeys. Whether it's out of fear or a genuine desire to follow Danny's will, he can't tell. He books it out of the changeroom, across the gym, and bursts outside, only to come face to face with Kwan and the rest of the class.

"Whoa!" Kwan reels back in surprise. "You missed the rest of the game. Val's team won."

"Oh, the game. Right." Dash takes a deep breath, struggling to get himself under control.

"So... you gonna let us in?"

Dash doesn't move.

"Get out of the way, Dash," Valerie says. Pushing to the front of the group, she tries to shove past him.

Dash leaps in front of her. "No!" He can't let anyone else see Danny.

"Dude, not cool. We want to check on Danny," Tucker says.

Dash wavers. Danny's friends have to know what's up with him, right? There is no way he could have stitched that up himself, not with how much struggle it took to even look at the injury. When Tucker and Sam slip by Dash, he makes no move to stop them. Their entrance opens the floodway, and soon enough everyone is pushing past Dash into the gym.

"Wait!" He latches on to Kwan's arm as his best friend passes.

"Did something happen?" Kwan asks.

Dash swallows, unsure how to answer. "Sort of?" Now isn't the right time to tell Kwan, though, not with their classmates around them, and the rest of their friends absent.

"Let's go get changed." Kwan pats Dash's shoulder and guides him forward. Every step closer to the change room, Dash's anxiety mounts. Danny reacted so poorly to one person finding him. Dash can only imagine what will happen—what stricken look Danny will wear—when half their class walks in on his shirtless and bloody.

Except, when they turn the corner into the change room proper, Danny isn't there. His stuff is gone, too. Tucker's crumpled gym shirt covers the spot where the gauze pad landed. There are no signs Danny was there at all.

Next