#kinda short but i hope you like it

[murdockcastleslut]

hi! can i please request a frenchie fic where the reader is a former member of the seven? with whatever angsty prompt you like. thank you!

okay i am so excited for this and i may sob writing this! i kinda took inspo from this tiktok edit of frenchie and kimiko. oh and this is the prompt im gonna use, "listen to me-" "No, no!" "my dear, i swear, that isn't what i meant." "oh yeah? i don't think so. you were pretty loud and clear back there." | request info here!

you were fuming, was he right? were just another piece of shit supe like the rest of them, like a-train, like the deep, like homelander?

his voice cuts you train of thought when he tries to reason with you has you pack what you could into a duffle.

"listen to me-" his accent thick.

"no, no!" you yell just trying to tune out his voice.

"mon coeur, i swear, that isn't what i meant." he pleads to you.

"oh yeah serge? i don't think so. you were pretty loud and clear back there." you say as you move towards your nightmare.

"please please just look at me." he reaches for you hand.

you turn and look at him tears glossing your eyes as you try and scowl.

"mon amour, please i didn't mea-."

"please just fucking stop!" you yelled at him. "this who i fucking am! i'm a fucking no good piece of shit supe right? i was a fucking fool to think that maybe just maybe my mentor would do the right thing! but you can't fucking judge me when you still follow order from butcher like his fucking lap dog!"

"that's cruel and you know it." he says.

"that's right it is. you're right i am. but i'm fucking right. he treats you like shit and he doesn't care about you and he's on some fucking vendetta and he doesn't care who gets hurt. I want to hurt homelander as much as he does! but i would never put you or anyone else on in fucking danger! so yes i might have slipped up but i owned up to it and made sure everyone was fucking safe! while that fucking cunt could two shits if a supe like me sends up dead. so i'm fucking done." you shut your eyes and clench your fist digging you fingers nails into you skin.

frenchie takes you and into his and gets on his knees.

"if you need to be mean, be mean to me. if you must inflict pain, perhaps i can endure it so you don't have to suffer." he pulls your fingers away from your palm.

"please don't leave. not like this." he looks up at you with pleading eyes.

[epiphainie]

i've just finished my s7 rewatch and it's kinda so funny to me how much discourse people created over every bucktommy interaction when their whole arc boils down to tommy being patient and vulnerable with buck and showing up for him. like when you are not wearing shipper goggles under the name of "analysis" and don't try to reverse-engineer every word and look and shot with utmost bad faith, that's what it is. a simple and sweet story of a new exciting relationship with a guy who's understanding and willing to show up. literally the two things buck needs from a relationship but never had with his previous love interests. they are kinda sickeningly sweet and well-communicating actually lol

[dykedvonte]

i saw that u have ur own hc for curly and jimmy's backstory; do you have one for anya as well?

I do!!! It's actually a lot less depressing than you think!

I imagine that Anya grew up in an average happy family, well average for whatever lower middle class family is in a world we can assume exist in a place where late stage capitalism won. I'll try to keep this in line with how I describe Curly and Jimmy's backstories but she had a family that tried to uplift her when it matter. They paid attention to what she cared about and made sure they knew she cared. I believe they couldn't support her in school due to her path and the modern expenses but they encouraged her and her every choice. She didn't have parties but she got gifts to help her express and explore herself.

Life was something I think Anya handled well. She was not the top student but she was a good student. She managed her job and school as well as she could and took the PE job so she could go back. She had nothing saved up but she planned in accordance, hence her concern about the baby. She had a good circle of people, maybe not someone who ever got her, but people that heard her out and understood enough to where she always got herself. She had partners and thought about futures but always thought about hers specifically first, not selfishly, but truly asking if they were facing the same directions.

She was always in her own head, not in a bad way though. She was always thinking about what she could do. I think she just liked knowing she could. I think she became a nurse because she wanted to give people choice in the same way she understood it. Doctors just fix a problem but nurses walk you through it, I think Anya

I genuinely believe that because she lived thinking of all the choices she had and all the ways she could overcome things, the fact that she was trapped on board with so little escape and choices, while not being heard or understood really just put the pin in her final acts of agency.

[storyshift-sk]

PART 1/2 - Storytime!

Once Upon A Time… Things were great! Until they weren’t. dun, dun, dun

Every great fictional world starts with a history lesson!

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Snowed In

Okay. Seeing as I have been spamming you guys with the new AU. I think it is time for a little treat :3

Ever wondered how the Gang and the Danielle's became such good friends?

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

edit: damnit I forgot to summon you! @spotaus

*---------------------*

Horror watches as Cross looks into the chimney "any luck so far Dust?"

Some clanks and curses "No."

That isn't good.

Horror had never been in the AU for as long as now. And never in the winter months.

He hadn't known that a blizzard could hit out of nowhere.

They had been snowed in very quickly and most electricity had shorted out.

Which honestly wouldn't have been that big of a deal if it hadn't been for their chimney getting clogged with debris. Meaning they couldn't start a fire and risk getting their house smoked out, or worse actually burned down.

Dust had climbed up it to see if he could fix it but he hadn't had much luck. aparently it was really stuck and Dust only had so much room to move around in up there. and if he used too much force it could cause damage.

Horror was fine, he is used to the cold. Same for Dust. Cross is trained and could manage as well. Killer already runs a lot hotter thanks to his strange soul situation and overwarm mana.

Nightmare however?

Horror walks over to the nest and pulls a blanket up slightly. The little made den only holds Killer nad Nightmare at the moment, Killer's soul lighting up the tiny hiding place.

Horror looks at the two as he tries to appear calm even if he feels so afraid and worried "and?"

Killer is rubbing Nightmare through the extra blanket they have him wrapped in. Killer shoots him an anxious look "He is very out of it. I didn't think the cold would be this bad for him."

Horror frowns and mutters "fragile magic." not only that but he is also a tree spirit who was originally form an AU where it was always spring or summer time, or some curious combination of the two. Nightmare was literally not made to deal with winter.

Killer frowns as he tries to share the body heat he has. Nightmare mumbles some words and opens his sockets. looking exhausted.

Killer however looks excited "Hey there tiny boss! How are you feeling?"

Nightmare frowns and looks confused before muttering an reply "tired..."

Killer frowns "Yeah i get thtat. just stay awake for a bit longer okay?"

Nightmare mutters unhappily as he shivers. Nightmare pushes himself close to Killer and Killer locks both his arms around him again as he stares at him "please tell me dust almost got it fixed?"

Horror sighs and shakes his skull. It isn't fixed. and that is the issue.

Killer looks afraid as he looks down at Nightmare "Maybe... maybe we need to make another jump? To a warmer AU at least? Get him to warm up?"

Horror agrees but also the idea of Nightmare making a dimension jump now? while he is already fragile? Horror is afraid it will just make things worse and-

Knocking on the door.

Killer looks up and stares "who the fuck visits people in a blizzard?"

horror frowns and shoots Killer a smile "I will check." he rises to his feet after tugging the blanket in again as he makes his way towards the door. Cross is by his side and looking at it with distrust.

Horror opens the door a tiny bit and stares in shock.

Dani stands on their porch. Dressed in some winter clothes but it looks more like she is dressed for a day of snow fun in the park over standing in a blizzard.

Dani notices he opened the door and grins "Snow carepackage delivery! What you needing?"

horror doens't have the words but luckily Cross does "what the fuck?"

Dani grins as she points a thumb over her shoulder towards the drive way "special snowday delivery."

Horror looks over and sees a very old off road truck standing on their porch. The tires are halfway deflated but gigantic and horror can spot the silvery chains all over them.

Dani must see the confusion and sighs something in the air and Horror can see Ellie give a sigh back.

The truck turns off and Ellie climbs out and towards the loading area of the truck and starts searching through stuff.

Dani steps into their house and clsoes the door before she frowns "fuck it is cold in here. What is wrong?"

Horror is once again all out of words as Cross mutters "chimney got something stuck in it. Dust is trying to fix it but... well... we hadn't finished isolating the whole house..."

Dani nods as she grabs a very old walky talky from her belt. she turns it on and speaks "Dani to Ellie. over."

a moment of silence before crackling "Ellie to Dani, hearing you loud and clear. over!" there are clear sounds of wind on the other side.

Dani grins "Dani to Ellie. We will need tools and blankets. any spare winter clothes is also a must. Over."

a moment before an answer "Heard you loud and clear! Getting it all ready! over and out!"

And Dani puts the walky talky back to her belt before she answers "Each year winter hits hard here. the first year we got here we noticed this and started going around to check on our neighbors. Gerson especially when he still lived here. We kept the habit up." she looks around "anything else you need?"

horror shakes his skull "Nothing really. Just too cold for Nightmare." and didn't that just feel like a failure? To not have been prepared.

Dani nods "You still got enough wood for when the chimney works fine?"

Cross nods "We should."

Dani looks relieved "okay that is good. Lets check to make sure it is all dry while Ellie grabs the stuff."

Dani lets Cross lead her to their wood storage as Horror quickly updates Dust and Killer. both voice their surprise about the sudden visit but one shiver of nightmare and neither say much more on it.

Neither likes to be in debt to others but if it is for their babybones? Yeah. Horror gets it.

Some nkocking on the door and Horror rushes to open it.

Ellie looks even less dressed for the snow as she just stands there with a warm sweater, snowpants, snowboots, a scarf and some earmuffs. She walks in but before she fully steps in she hits her boots together and against the outside doorpost to kick off the snow.

Now that he thinks about it Dani did the same.

Ellie walks in and grins "okay! Winter jacket and sweater. air tight and water proof." she holds it up "Probably a good idea for your kid. Kids always have trouble regulating their heat." she she hands it over.

Horror quickly leads her and all her stuff next to the nest where he raises the blanket again. He shows the jacket and Killer snatches it quickly to wrap Nightmare completely in it.

Ellie next holds up a very large woolen blanket and a fleece blanket. She holds up the woolen one first "This one first. all around him. Then wrap the fleece blanket around that." Horror does as told as Ellie continues to speak.

"What we are doing. As long as there is no outside heat. is trying to form an isolation for him so his own body heat can warm him up. We found that these things work very well."

They end up having nightmare all wrapped up and back in killer's arms before putting another fleece blanket on top of the blanket already covering them.

Ellie shows some thermo clothes next for them to wear and stay warm but Horror mentions they are mostly fine. As long as they stay out of the wind and snow that is. Ellie accepts it and puts it on the pile to take back to their truck.

Dani and cross reappear from their wood pile "Looks fine. you guys also still have enough fire starters so you should be golden. oh nice you brought the tools!" Dani checks the stuff and pulls out a mallet and some rope before going to go towards the chimney and start talking with dust.

Cross stares at Ellie "what?"

ellie smiles as she waits for her wife to finish "We do this yearly. Dani and I are made for the cold. She being a malamute dog monster and I am actually a snowshoe hare. Not exactly bunny but I don't mind being called a bunny monster." she shrugs with a grin. "When the first blizzard hit it meant that we were both excited and went for a walk in the snow together. it was great to be in these temperatures again."

she frowns "As we were walking we realised we didn't see smoke come from the direction of one of our neighbors. where we grew up you just kinda relied on each other in the cold months. You kept an eye on your neighbors and if they lit their fires on time. We decided to check it out and found out that one of them had gotten surprised by the cold and the the house's heating had gotten damaged."

Ellie waves off the worry "Everything was fine in the end. we helped our neighbor back to our house and let him stay while we grabbed some supplies and decided to walk around and check on the others. We made it a habit and made sure that our truck was easy to prepare for winter and rough weather." she grins.

a loud clank and they turn to see a large piece of wood and branches at the bottom of the chimney. Dani grins as she looks up into it "check the top and if the closing and opening mechanism is stillwhole! You guys will need that to keep the snow out."

a moment of silence before confirmation that it is still moving and seems whole. Dani nods and says she will test the handle and to say if anything sounds weird or seems to move weird. They get through the test and moments later dust is down with them.

Dani grins at Ellie "My lady. if you could."

Ellie grins as she walks over to the fire place and with just a few quick hadn movements the fire is ablaze.

Cross blinks "you have fire magic?"

ellie giggles "nah. just the skills to start one!"

dani nods "she is a born arsonist. sadly she is lawful good." ellie nudges her in the side.

Dani grins as Ellie giggles before she shoots them a smile "You guys good? We need to be on our way to check the others. there are always people with little wood or food or blankets and we want to check everyone."

Dani nods "We just came here first because... well it is you guys's first winter here. if you didn't expect the blizzard it can cause for issues."

Horror shakes his skull "we are good." whihc is when they hear sleepy mutters from their nest and killer actually pushes the blanket back to show nightmare rubbing his sockets with a tiny frown. clearly free from his forced half hibernation he had been almost kicked into.

Horror lets out a breath of relieve and mutters "we are good..."

Dani and ellie share a look and nod before leaving a very cheap looking phone with them "in case of you guys need anything else."

Cross frowns and points at their land line "the phone is out."

Dani nods "we know. that is an upgraded walky talky."

ellie grins "while the phone towers can be knocked out these babies are sturdy! They also are limited though. which is why you can only call us using that one but we are by far the most mobile in this weather." and she puffs her chest up proudly

Dani smiles "just give us a call if you need anything." she nudges Ellie "we need to get moving. we don't want to have to drive through a dark snowstorm."

and the two leave again. They both climb into their truck, which really is just their normal truck but with large wheels. before the drive off. huh. seems like the almost flat tires give them drip to get through the loose snow and over the icy roads.

Horror makes a mental note to find a way to thank them before acutally makign a note on their to-do list instead.

afterwards they sit in their nest and just listen to the fire crackle as the storm rages on.

*---------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[misc-obeyme]

I need a barbatos hug rn it would probably fix me

Dearest Violet, I do believe a Barbatos hug could fix just about anything.

So much so that I accidentally drabbled about it... I know this isn't the same as getting an actual hug from the demon himself, but I hope it helps a little anyway~ I hope you start feeling better soon!

Barbatos notices when you're not feeling entirely yourself. Although he can tell what's causing your distress, he makes a mental note to deal with it later. Right now what matters is doing what he can to help you feel better.

As always, Barbatos takes it upon himself to pamper you. He begins by making sure you have the day off. Your RAD studies can wait. He asks you to come over to the Demon Lord's Castle where he can take care of you properly. He sets you up in a comfortable spot with pillows and blankets.

And then, Barbatos brings you things. He starts with his own tea blend and home made pastries. He brings you video games that he has procured from Leviathan and the Young Master. He has a stack of your favorite books as recommended by Satan. He has a selection of refreshing face masks given to him by Asmodeus. He's determined to bring you anything and everything that could bring you the comfort you so clearly need.

Barbatos watches you carefully each time he brings you something, but the look on your face doesn't seem to change. It's still quiet, withdrawn, even melancholy.

He's about to leave again, thinking he can bring you some different tea to try, when you catch his hand.

Barbatos stops in surprise and looks back at you with a questioning expression. "MC?"

You look up at him, doing your best not to sound too sad. "Don't leave."

Barbatos frowns a little. "I thought perhaps you need a different type of tea," he says. "I will be back as soon as I-"

You shake your head, which causes him to cut off what he was saying. You look at his hand in yours. "You keep bringing me things, but… I just want you."

Barbatos blushes, but he recovers himself quickly. He smiles and turns back to you.

You scoot over to make room for him to sit beside you, which he does. At first his posture is as perfect as ever. But then you move closer to him, pressing your arm against his a little, just a small bit of contact. And it finally dawns on Barbatos. In that instant, he knows what you need.

Barbatos relaxes his posture and leans back, opening his arms to you.

And you finally get to fall into them, nestled there against his chest. This is the one thing you've been longing for - a hug from Barbatos himself. And he can feel it healing you and he can feel it healing him, too. He didn't even know he needed healing, but it turns out he also needed a hug from you.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[blackjackkent]

Prompt fill for @thedarkstrategist from this ask meme: "Trustfall" by P!nk Sentence Starters Shadowzel - "Are we just too scared to fight for what we want tonight?" (One of those where I didn't use a direct quote but let it inspire instead.)

-----

This is how it shall be. I will wake her, and we will fight.

I will win - of course. It cannot be otherwise. A githyanki warrior of Creche K’liiir does not bend before an istik of Toril, a follower of Shar, a stalker in the shadows.

(Forty-one nights I have woken with her face in my mind, her name in my mouth.)

We will use no weapons. She fights with magic and a mace; she will be at disadvantage. I will leave her bloody in the dirt, in the dark. Seeing her bested, I shall be released from my obsession. 

(What shall I dream of in her place?)

It is what the varshi teach. Cosa’kh rahaj, abat’hak tarim. Desire fades, blood tells. It is a fleeting thing, this infatuation. I must be able to stand tall when it has bled out of me. I must remain myself. I will not sacrifice my honor on her dark altar.

(And yet I have no other goddess left.)

Why do I hesitate? It cannot be fear. I have never once shied from battle. From the day I could walk, I faced steel and blood unblinking. Those too weak to stand at my side fell by my hand. I carry no fear of striking down what I love.

(No - but I fear to claim it with both hands.)

And when she is bloodied and beaten, I will turn away. I will know the inconstancy of my passion and set it aside; I will shed the weight of her and be free. There will be no more ache of longing, no more half-formed fantasies of soft touches. My mind will be clear, my heart liberated.

(My soul empty.)

I will not falter. My strength has gotten me this far. Let it last a little longer, until I can see my way out of this transient madness. I will not weaken before the gleam of her eyes in the firelight. 

I will not weaken. 

I will not…

I will wake her, and we will fight. And then I will know her worth, and it will be finished.

This is how it shall be.

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Au: Danny's in Gotham Again

when the wool is off your eyes you'll stop counting sheep at night cause you'll eat your fill of them during the daytime

A few weeks after Danny’s visit to Gotham, he buys an apartment in the city. It’s this little thing, a studio apartment on the same street he grew up in. In Crime Alley. When he tells his parents, they protest heavily. They don’t think it's safe. They think he should reconsider. There were plenty of apartments and places to live somewhere else. And what about college? 

Danny doesn’t think he’ll go to college. He isn’t sure what he wants to do, now that being an astronaut is off the table. It’d be a waste of money to go without a goal in mind, he thinks. He says he’ll take a gap year and apply at one of the community colleges funded by the Wayne Corporation, possibly. It just wasn’t in the cards right now. 

“If things get tough,” He says at dinner that night, “then I can talk to the Waynes. I’m friends with the family, remember?” He ended up getting Bruce’s number in his phone again before he left, and in the process got Tim’s as well. They don’t talk much, Danny isn’t sure what to say. But he sends Tim memes whenever he comes across one and thinks he’ll like. Tim sends memes back in return.   

His parents do remember. They remember. They also remember the horrified shriek that echoed through the house when Danny learned of Jason’s passing. They remember running up the stairs and bursting into their son’s room and finding him sobbing into his bed, curled up like a little kid, like he was in pain. He lost his voice that day, stuck between screaming out his grief and sobbing it. 

They’re still not sure if they should let him go. 

In the end, Danny wins them out, and he lets them help him search for an apartment. They take a break from their lab work to help search for cheap furniture to buy. They may have more money than when they were in Gotham, but that frugal part of you never fully goes away. They all agree that they don’t want Danny to be seen carrying in nice-looking furniture when he moves in. 

He ends up with a basic furniture set, all mismatched, and in the warm summer of June, his parents rent out a u-haul and drive him down to Gotham to move in. They meet the landlord when they arrive, a skinny and frail old man with wispy white hair and a wrinkled face. He gives Danny the keys and tells him what apartment number he is, and then he leaves. 

His parents help him move in. They help him carry his heavy furniture up to the second floor, where his apartment is. Danny isn’t sure if he wants them to help. His mom and dad are strong, but they are getting old, closer to their fifties now that their children are grown. His dad’s hair is slowly beginning to thin, and rather than the white eating at the sides of his head, it now streaks through his hair like salt-and-pepper. His mom’s hair is graying out too, and there are more lines in their faces than he remembers there being. 

When he voices his concerns, his mom laughs spiritedly and says that they may be getting old, but they are still as spry as when they were in their twenties. Danny isn’t sure if he believes them or not. He can see his dad struggle a bit when they return to get his bed frame, and they have to take a break before they go back down for the rest of their things. 

Five years ago, his dad could do this without breaking a sweat. It forces a heavy thing in the back of Danny’s throat. (He is less afraid of his own death than he is of his loved ones, and while he has always felt rocky with his parents, he still loves them more than anything else.) 

Danny’s apartment is exactly as he would have expected it to be: shabby and worn through. The entire room smells like stale cigarette smoke and weed, nicotine stains the wall with poorly covered bullet holes, and stains in the carpet that are a color he can’t discern. The fridge has a broken light and when he tries to turn on the gas stove, it click-click-clicks before lighting, fire fwooshing out while the smell of gas fills the air. There’s rat droppings in the cupboards and the closet-like bathroom is just as bad. 

The ghostly part of him can sense the heavy stench of death in the room; people have died in this room. People have died in every room of this building, he thinks. They have died on the streets outside and in the alleys squeezed between them. He can feel it like a heavy fog in the air. 

It is painfully nostalgic, a bittersweet feeling in his chest that he grimaces to. 

When the last box is placed in his apartment, his parents offer to help unpack. They are hesitant to leave and Danny knows it, although he doesn’t know if it’s from empty nest syndrome or because it's Gotham. He thinks it might be both. He is their youngest child finally leaving home to a city known for its danger. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay behind, sweetie?” His mother asks, a frown she tries to hide settled in the creases of her face. She fiddles with her hands, a nervous habit Danny has since noticed when she feels truly unsure and doesn’t need to hide it. Hesitancy looms over her like a heavy cloud. 

His dad jumps in hastily, splaying his hands and smiling painfully wide to hide the glistening in his eyes. “You’re mother’s right! We can help you get everything set up, champ. I could probably do something with that stove of yours to make it faster!” He says, his voice still booming like it always does even if there’s a stumble in his words. 

It makes his heart squeeze, knowing just how much they care. It was hard last summer, telling him that he was the Phantom. Terrifying, actually. They couldn’t comprehend it. He hadn’t felt his heart beat that fast in years when he stood in front of them at the kitchen table and told them he was a halfa, begging them to believe that ghosts weren’t inherently evil. 

His parents were people of science, however, and after much, much shock, they slowly came to terms with it. How could they not? The evidence was right in front of them. Their son was dead-alive, alive-dead. Somewhere stuck in the between. The tears they shed that night could fill a river, moving from the kitchen to the living room as Danny explains how he died. 

(When Danny tells them that he died after a week Jason did, his mom and dad look horrified. His mom covers her mouth when he adds that it was his idea to go inside it, his dad looks ashy pale, gripping his pant legs so tight that his knuckles turn white. There is a conclusion coming to their minds that he can tell they don’t like.) 

(“You’ve always hated our inventions, Danny.” Mom says in a hushed voice, and Danny winces at the wording, sinking into the back of the cushions in shame. He never thought that his parents noticed. Mom quickly grabs his arm, “No, no, there’s nothing to be ashamed of Danny. We were… perhaps too careless with our inventions, too enthusiastic. You had every right to hate the things we made when they had a tendency to… to malfunction.”) 

(Malfunction is a delicate way of putting it, when Danny remembers every time they had to evacuate their old apartment complex because whatever half-baked creation his parents made inevitably blew up into ash and smoke. There were soot marks permanently stained into the ceiling.) 

(Her hand slides down and grabs his, and she cups it in both of her hands, squeezing tightly. He forces himself to look up, and there is a look like her heart breaking when he looks into his mother’s eyes. “You’ve always avoided the lab after we moved, Danny. And you had every right to, so why on Earth did you ever think about going into the portal?”)

(Danny struggles to come up with an adequate answer, a way to verbalize what came over him that day five years ago. The answer is there, hanging in the air like a knot in a noose. He opens his mouth, and then closes it.)

(Finally, with a tongue made of lead, he shrugs lamely and looks away. “I didn’t know there was an on button inside it.” He mumbles, and despite being the truth it feels like a lie. But that is the truth. He didn’t know there was an on button inside it. So he didn’t care what happened.)

(Something dulls in mom’s eyes, like she thought of something else that Danny hadn’t said. Her eyes shimmer, and she squeezes them shut, breathing in so deep that it shakes. And then she pulls him into a hug, a hand burying into his hair and pressing him close. “It must have hurt so much, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”)

(It is something that Danny doesn’t expect her to say, like missing the last step of the stairs. It startles him so much he laughs this short, bark of a thing. He feels his dad press against his back and wrap his big arms around them, his nose pushed into his hair.) 

(Because yeah. Yeah, it did hurt. It hurt more than anything else he’s ever felt before. It had torn him apart and sewn him back together again, only to rinse and repeat. The pain was nothing he ever spoke to Sam or Tucker about, and it was something they never brought up. No, that’s not true. If they ever brought it up, Tucker would call it a zap. As if Danny only experienced a mild static shock. Like it was painless. It’s a pretty lie that Danny lets him and Sam believe.)

(His eyes sting and water immediately wobbles into his vision, coming up with such a force that he doesn’t even need to blink before it spills over. “Yeah.” He forces out, voice unexpectedly rough and cracking. “Yeah, it- it hurt. A lot.”)

He tells them about fighting the Lunch Lady a month later. He tells them about finding Jason. It comes spilling out like a waterfall. “I found him, mom.” He says, holding onto her tight while she keeps him tucked under his chin like a little kid. The secret of Jason being Robin stays hidden under his tongue, it is not his secret to tell. Not his identity to expose. He grips her tighter. “I found him, mom. Right there in the Ghost Zone, and he was my Jason. He wasn’t an echo or a— an imprint of him.”

Mom is silent; quiet and attentive, and so is dad, who rubs his large hands up and down Danny’s spine in an attempt to soothe him. It only works a little. Danny breathes in like a gasp as the urge to cry overcomes him again. He always avoids talking about Jason, his grief is like a never-healing scab that can be picked off at any time. It is ingrained into his core. 

“And then I lost him.” He forces out, a sob layering under his words that he chokes on and swallows. The hand on his back stills, and he can feel mom and dad breathe in like a question. He turns his head and pushes it into mom’s shoulder. “He disappeared, mom. Just— just gone.”

“And he didn’t move on.” He says, voice snarling like teeth biting before his mom can ask, because he knows that’s what she was going to ask. It’s what Sam and Tucker asked when he came to them in tears hours after he found Jason gone. It’s what Jazz said when he finally told her about it. It’s what every one of his ghosts asked when he told them about it and begged for their help. 

Danny grits his teeth and tries not to dig his nails into mom’s clothes as a fresh wave of tears run down his face. “His haunt is still there. If Jason really moved on it would have disappeared with him. That’s how it works. But it’s still in the zone, so Jason’s out there I just don’t know where.” 

(Sam once asks him why Danny didn’t just move on from it a year after Jason’s disappearance. She asked him why he didn’t give it up. Danny nearly saw red, and nearly bit her head off for it. It was incomprehensible to him to just stop looking for Jason, to give up. Not when he was out in the zone somewhere. Because he had to be in the zone.)

(Danny once tried to take Jason through the portal with him, and much like what happened to Kitty, it didn’t work. Jason was too tied to the ghost zone to leave.) 

(Some bonds are just unbreakable, he thinks. Bonds forged through blood and time and trust, and when you’re on the streets of Gotham, you hoard what little trust you have in someone like a dragon with its gold. It is scarcely given and fiercely kept.) 

“I’ve been looking for him.” Danny whispers when talking becomes too hard for him, when it runs the risk of him crying. “When- when I’m not fighting ghosts or, or in school or with my friends, I’ve been looking for him.” He has explored the Ghost Zone in every reach he can. He has met so many people. He’s met the ghosts of aliens from planets in every corner of the galaxy. He has met gods or god-like beings and their disciples. 

He’s met famous scholars and writers (he’s gotten the autographs of all of Jason’s favorite writers). He has found entire cities that have so much life in it that it's been permanently etched into the ghost zone, like a mirror version of itself. 

He’s visited the ghostly vision of Gotham so many times, and he avoids the imprint of Wayne Manor like the plague. There are ghostly newspapers that he reads. There are the ghosts of Martha and Thomas Wayne in many of them. 

Jason’s haunt connects to Wayne Manor, but it is also the street they grew up in. It is a small brick building with a door that leads to Jason’s room. A ghost knows when someone enters their haunt, it alerts them like a doorbell in the back of their mind. A foreign ecto-signature in a place drenched in your own. 

Danny visits it every time he goes into the Ghost Zone. It’s always his first stop. 

He tells his parents all of it. He tells them of the ghosts he’s met, of the places he’s seen. And when he feels brave, he tells them about Rath and the terror that his future self brings him. He keeps some details hidden, the ones that he can afford to keep without muddling up the story. 

(Rath is a tall, spindly thing, like a funhouse mirror version of Danny himself. He has arms that are much too long and legs that are much too tall, with skinny fingers that extend into claws.He wears his suit the same as Danny does, with it partially undone and the sleeves wrapped around his waist.)

(There is a black hole in his chest that is much bigger than Danny’s own. It takes up his chest cavity and drips the same, viscous black liquid as the tears falling from his eyes. Danny never forgets his voice; a scraping, quiet thing like he’s screamed himself hoarse. Rath has a voice like goosebumps, and it haunts Danny like a bump in the night.) 

Danny speaks and speaks and speaks until he can’t think of anything else to speak of. He is tired and sad, and it feels like his heart has been ripped out and rubbed raw again. And yet, he also feels so much better. Like a long heavy weight has been taken off his chest. 

Yeah, last summer was hard. His parents walked on eggshells around him, and they forced themselves to unlearn their bias of ghosts. It was more than Danny could have ever dreamed of, and when they felt ready for it, they asked him more about the ghost zone.

He smiles sadly at his dad, “I think fixing the stove can be a priority another time, dad.” He says, watching him wilt and his smile fall. Jack Fenton was always so good at making himself look like a kicked puppy. “I can handle unpacking by myself, I promise.” 

His parents still look so unsure, like they want to argue. Danny watches his mom purse her lips tightly, confliction running across her face like a datastream. She takes dad’s hand, squeezing their fingers together despite the droop in her shoulders. 

“Oh, alright then, I suppose.” She relents, her hand placing on Jack’s arm. “I guess we could go, we’re just going to miss you so much, Danny.” 

Tears seem to have won over his dad, and Jack Fenton sniffs back before he can cry properly. “Our little boy, all grown up.” He says, voice wobbling. It makes Danny laugh, and it makes his heart pang. His smile grows impossibly wider and so much fonder. “You’ve become such a kind, wonderful young man, Danno. We’re so proud of you.” 

Danny laughs again, and it cracks. “You’re gonna make me cry, dad.” (He feels a welling of guilt in his gut that he ignores — he doesn’t feel like a kind man. He doesn’t feel like a good one either. Not with what he plans to do.) 

His father holds out his arms in hopefulness, “One last hug for your old man before we head out?” He asks, mustering up a smile on his face. 

Danny barrels into him, nearly knocking his dad over with an oomph. He’s as tall as him now, but he still feels little in his bear hugs. With arms wrapping around his middle, Danny hugs his father tight and breathes him in one last time. 

“Careful there, Danno.” He laughs, patting Danny’s back roughly. “You’ll break my ribs with that ghostly strength of yours!” But he holds on just as tight.

Out of spite, Danny bends back and lifts him off his feet, laughing when Jack tenses up and nearly scrambles out of surprise. His mom laughs with him, stepping back to give them room for the few seconds that dad is in the air. 

When it’s his mom’s turn, Danny has to hunch to hug her. Something bittersweet to him as she plants a kiss on his forehead and says that he’ll always be her baby. “Even if you do have that horrid smoking habit.” She adds on with a disapproving eyebrow raise. 

Danny turns red in embarrassment, and walks them back to the GAV. Gothamites of all kinds slow to stop and boggle at the monstrous, road-illegal thing that is parallel-parked next to the curbside. In the past, Danny would have died with mortification to be seen with it. Now it just makes him laugh. Before he goes back into the apartment building, he buys a newspaper from a nearby convenience store.  

The first thing he does when he gets back up to his room is one: make a mental note to buy a bicycle chain lock for the door. The locks jiggle and there are splinters along the side that show signs of it being broken into in the past. The second thing he does is pull his cigarettes out of his pocket and light one. 

Danny starts to unpack with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, placing the newspaper he bought onto the counter. He has a cheap loveseat that he pushes off to the side, and he moves the boxes into the kitchen. It’s a matter of organization that Danny has to think about before he does anything. 

It’s as he’s pushing the sofa up against the wall facing the windows that his phone rings a familiar tune: Sam. The phone is fished out before he can think about it and when he stares down at the screen, he realizes it's a facetime call. 

He presses answer and walks over to prop his phone up onto the counter. The smiling faces of Sam and Tucker greet him, rather than just Sam. Immediately, Danny grins. “Hey Danny.” Sam greets, smiling a dark-painted lazy thing. From the background it looks like they’re in Tucker’s room. Sam is in Tucker’s desk chair, and Tucker is behind her, leaning against it. “Have you moved in yet?” 

Danny pulls the cigarette from his mouth and huffs, a cloud of smoke following his breath. “Yeah! It’s a shithole.” He grins lopsidedly, and his feet carry him off to the side to allow Sam and Tucker view of his apartment. He lets thirty seconds pass, allowing the both of them to really see the rest of the room. And then he steps back into frame. 

Sam and Tucker both look like they’re trying not to look judgemental, like they’re trying to hide a grimace that Danny sees anyway with the small turns at the corner of their mouths. He grins wider, mirth filling his lungs. “I know, it looks awful doesn’t it?”

“It’s— it’s not so bad.” Sam says with a strain in her voice, a forced smile on her face that tries to be reassuring. Tucker nods along readily, and he looks just as unsure as Sam does. Danny stifles laughter behind his teeth. 

“No, no, it looks bad,” He takes a drag of his cigarette, shaking his head. “You can say it, I won’t get offended. It’s a fucking apartment in crime alley. Of course it looks bad.” 

Sam remains silent, a rearing of her stubbornness showing itself. Tucker takes a different approach, and heaves a dramatic sigh of relief, slumping like a weight. “Okay, you’re right. It looks bad.” He frowns, “Sorry, man.” 

While Danny snorts, Sam sighs. “Yeah, it looks bad. What even are those stains?” She asks, and both she and Tucker lean closer in tandem to the screen, eyes squinting at the floor behind him. Danny glances at the floor, and shrugs. 

“Blood, probably.” He says, and while years in Amity Park have accustomed him to a clean environment, the desensitization of Gotham still remains. Tucker and Sam both make faces and lean away, as if the stain itself was capable of passing through to them. “Yeah, there are bullet holes in the walls.” 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be there?” Tucker asks, a furrow appearing between his brows. He adjusts his glasses and leans against the chair. Sam is frowning heavily, and Danny can already see her thinking up of a new way to fix the problem. 

“Oh, I never said this place was safe.” Danny tells him cheerily, taking a last hit of his cigarette before placing the dead stick onto the counter. He itches for another one. Instead he walks over to the shelf his parents brought in and starts moving it. “It’s Crime Alley, Tuck. Safe isn’t even in its vocabulary.” 

Tucker and Sam look like they’ve both swallowed a lemon.

“But it’s where I want to be right now.” He says, grunting quietly when the shelf is against the wall he wants it to be, near the short hallway leading to the front door. He can push it in front of it if someone tries to break in. “And Crime Alley’s apartments are the only ones I can really afford right now without mooching off my parents, and I’d rather not depend on them.” 

He can hear the disapproving hesitance from where he stands. And he ignores it. 

Danny walks back into frame, lifting up a box onto the counter. He hums lightly, fingers run over the tape keeping it shut. “Why do you even want to be in Gotham, Danny?” Sam asks, and she sounds genuinely perplexed. Danny stills. “I thought this place only had bad memories for you.” 

His blood turns cold, and like a dime being flipped his slow heartbeat fills his ears. “It does.” He replies automatically, before he can think. Shit, shit. He knows that Sam or Tucker would ask that question, and yet he still feels unprepared for it. His heart pulses quickly against his ribcage, knocking, asking him what he’s going to tell them that isn’t the truth. 

Danny stammers, “I mean— I just— I guess I felt nostalgic.” He says, and it sounds like a weak defense. He looks away, finding himself instinctively scratching his jaw. A new tick of his when he’s nervous. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sam and Tucker both narrow their eyes at him. 

He cannot tell them the real reason why he’s moved back to Gotham. He can’t tell them of the little secret and vow he told himself five years ago, the one that’s been left to fester and burn like an open wound close to his core. The one that, if he thinks too much about it, sends a searing hot electricity through him, filling him from crown to toe top-full of direst wrath.  

(Danny was always the angrier one in the duo of Jason and Danny. He was always the one with glass in his mouth, cutting his teeth and tongue so that he could spit blood at the world around them. His knuckles had more blood and bruises on it than skin, once upon a time. All because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He has grown from it, that fury has turned to a small simmering candle.) (But sometimes, sometimes it rears its head, and electricity will buzz under Danny’s skin. There is lightning before the thunder, the second before a fist pulled to punch lands, the spark before it becomes a blaze.) 

He stumbles over his words, and then sighs long and low, drooping his head. “I… was thinking that I can’t avoid this place forever.” He says, and the best lies always have the truth in it. Because it’s not a lie, not completely. But it’s not close enough to the truth either. “And that maybe if I came back, I’d be able to do something about those bad memories. Make them better or make it hurt less.” 

Like wool over their eyes, it fools Sam and Tucker. Their narrowed eyes soften, and Danny feels like a snake is in his lungs as they both adopt their own versions of gentleness on their faces. “Oh, Danny.” Sam breathes out, and the snake squeezes, “Of course, we understand.”

Tucker nods, smiling at him. “Yeah, bro, that’s really brave of you. I know it can’t be easy coming back.” He says, “Maybe you can reconnect with the Waynes again, you always thought well of Mister Wayne whenever you came back from visiting.”

Danny smiles weakly, the gesture cutting into his cheeks like a knife. Perhaps he could. He was still upset with Bruce for hiding Jason’s killer from him. But he doesn’t hate him. Maybe five years ago, he did, when the death of Jason was still fresh in his mind and freshly bleeding in his heart. Now he just doesn’t know what to think of him. He was Batman. Jason was Robin, and the Joker killed Robin. 

It would need to be something he’d have to speak to Bruce about in person, he thinks, in order to resolve it. To hear his judgment on it and make an opinion from there. Danny has learned in the last five years, much to Jazz’s smug delight, that talking to people about something he was upset about did make him feel better. 

The conversation slips on from there into something more light, more breathable. And while they talk, Danny unpacks. He sets up his bed in the corner of the room, adjacent to the windows, and unpacks his cheap TV and table stand. It’s directly across from the couch, in front of the windows. He puts up knicks and knacks he’s collected over the years on the shelves.

When he puts up the curtains, he notices that more than one frame jiggles loosely. Sam makes a comment on the musty stains permanently dyed into the glass, and Danny talks about getting something to fix the cracks. Gotham winters can get brutal, and even if he can withstand the cold, doesn’t mean everything else in his apartment can. 

“Oh, watch this.” He says halfway through unpacking, and pulls out a stick of thick white chalk from a box. “This is something I learned from Clockwork a while back; I think he knew I was going to move to Gotham.” He grins sillily, popping into the camera frame to show them. “I wonder how?” 

Sam rolls her eyes, smiling while Tucker huffs. “It’s not like he’s the Master of Time and can see all past, present, and future.” Tucker snarks. 

Danny hums lightly, curt like he isn’t sure he believes Tucker, and walks to a piece of bare wall not yet blocked by furniture. He starts to draw on it. The chalk shimmers with faint ectoplasm on the wall. 

“Uhh…” Tucker’s voice cuts through, “Are you sure you should be doing that? Won’t you get in trouble for that?”

“There are bullet holes in the plaster, Tucker.” Danny retorts dryly, arching his hand to make a big circle. “I don’t think the landlord is gonna care if I get washable chalk on his walls.” Inside the circle, he inscribes the symbols of the Infinite Realms. “I don’t think he’d be able to see it anyways, he was really old.” 

When he is done, Danny steps back to admire his work. It’s not bad, he thinks, for a lack of practice. He tosses the chalk off to the side, it lands on the couch and rolls back into the cushions. Ectoplasm heats under his hand, slowly glowing from his fingertips before stretching down the rest of his palm. 

Danny’s fingers press against the wall, into the center of the circle. The result is immediate, ectoplasm is siphoned off his hand and into the circle. It glows, and then swirls. He steps off to the side for Sam and Tucker to watch its transformation. The circle fills with a swirling pool of ectoplasm, like a smaller version of the basement portal, and then it warps and stretches. 

It fills out a rectangular shape, shifting like taffy being pulled this way and that, before settling into a solid shape. It solidifies, and instead of a wall there is a glowing purple door, warped in nature and seemingly shifting like a trick of the eyes. He can hear the gentle hum of the zone standing next to it, and can see the carving of the circle in the wood. 

He gestures dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. “Ta-da~” He sings, “A door to my haunt! For whenever I feel like visiting it.” He pats the wood, making a strange thunk-thunk sound. “And then watch this.” 

Danny touches the circle again, and the door twists and recedes like water going down a drain. The circle flashes bright green, and then fades into nothing on the wall, invisible to the naked eye. “I can hide it whenever I want! So if I ever invite someone over—” which he doubts, “—I won’t have to worry about them asking, ‘Hey Danny? Why is there a creepy fucking door in your studio apartment?’”

He gets a pair of laughs for his efforts, and Danny grins wider. 

Sam and Tucker have to end the call when Danny is nearly done unpacking, leaving him alone with only his thoughts and the Gotham ambience outside. There were only a few boxes left, and they promise to call him tomorrow. He tells them that they better keep that promise. 

The silence that follows after they leave feels somberly, as if the reality of moving in has finally set in and filled the air with its loneliness. With its change. Finally, Danny lets the strangeness of moving back to Gotham hit him when he reaches the last box, and he stops to take another smoke break to let it settle. 

It feels so strange to be back in Gotham, he thinks. He’s all grown up, or almost grown up. He can vote and pay taxes, but he doesn’t feel much older than he was at fourteen. There’s a disconnect that makes him feel sad. 

There are cars running outside, driving by. He can only catch glimpses of them, his apartment faces an alleyway. There are dogs barking in the distance, strays he bets. It’s already dark out, and he wonders if he looks out the window he would see the bat-signal shining through the night and staining the permanent cloud that hangs over Gotham. 

Bruce would be so disappointed if he learned the reason for Danny’s return to Gotham. But Danny’s not here for him. He’s here for someone far more important. And like that, the simmering anger that has tucked itself into the furthest corners of his heart starts slipping through. His heart has teeth, ready to strike and snarl and bite. 

He crushes the cigarette in his hand and throws it away. When he opens the last box, it is with hands that tremble and with a face of stone. With a delicateness he does not feel, he reaches in and pulls a corkboard from the box. On the corner frame is a small, near inconspicuous carving of another ghost rune. 

Danny hangs it up on an empty space on the wall, out of sight from the window. It’s plain, and he has nothing to pin to it. He presses the small rune on the corner, pushing ectoplasm into it. Unlike the door, it does not twist and warp and shape itself into something new. Instead it bursts into green flame, eating away at the board and revealing the same thing underneath it, just in dark blue-black-purple. 

Now this board, this board Danny has something to pin to it. The newspaper he bought earlier sits abandoned on the counter, and Danny unrolls it with something like viciousness in his chest. On the front page is an image of a damaged street, and above it is titled: “JOKER STRIKES AGAIN, 3 DEAD AND 27 INJURED”

Danny rips out the first page, he rips out every mention of him. His hands shake and threaten to crumple the paper as he turns back to the board, there is hot blood pounding in his ears. There is an impending sense of finally in his chest, like a setting sun giving the stage to a starless night. There is a stern set in his jaw, five years of festering rage rushing forth like a tidal wave, threatening to make his vision swim. 

It would be so easy, he thinks, to go out as Phantom right now and hunt the clown down. It would only take a night. All it would take is a night, and then he could sink his hands into the Joker’s chest and rip out his heart where he stood. It would be so easy. 

The thought alone forces Danny to stop as he is hit with another rush of fury, really making his head and vision swim. Thorny vines wrap around his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stares at a spot on the wall until the shaking passes. 

If he wants to be discreet about this, then he can’t do it now. Even if he wants to. He doesn’t want witnesses. He doesn’t want an audience. He made a mistake, telling Red Hood about his plan. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all. But he can only hope that the Hood hasn’t mentioned it to Bruce. He knows it hasn’t been long since they started working together. He hopes that the Hood has already forgotten about it. 

He pins the newspaper clippings onto the black-blue-board, and stands back. It’s bare now, but it won’t be forever. 

He presses the circle again, and the pinboard reverts back to its original blank state. 

-----

Was I expecting to make a third part?? No. No I was not. I was also not expecting to make an entire google doc filled with summaries for short story ideas about this au that all tie into each other so that way if i DO continue this i have a skeleton pathway to follow rather than making everything up from scratch and potentially cornering myself

you can find this on ao3 or on tumblr 1 2 :)

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 755: Departure 2

Pag 1

2: Ding ding

3: The boarding the flight number 621 to Fukuoka, departing at 10:30 will close soon

4: If you're boarding, please speak to the staff member closest to you

Pag 2

2: Ah, that guy is angry

Shh

3: Oi

4: He said “I'm coming”, right?

Yessir!! I called him thirty times but he only picked up once....

He just said “soon”....

5: Then why aren't you here, Manamii!!

Pag 3

1: There's the Inter High soon, the Inter High!! Buah!!

So-sorry, I even sent many messages, but his current location-

It's been more than thirty minutes since you've said that, how's that soon!?

Pag 4

1: “Arriving late is a crime”!!

“Causing troubles is a serious crime”!!

Yessir

We told him that, too!!

3: Alright, I put Manami's ticket there, let's go

Huh!? Next to the window!?

That's a little-

Enough

4: Let's go, Yuuto, Tobirama

This time we'll fight as five people in the Inter High

'lright

Yes

No, but, he's the captain!?

Can't be

5: Ah... this must be my ticket

Pag 5

1: Kyushu

3: Take me there, too!!

4: Waaaa, Manami-saan!!

I'm so glad you came!!

Thank you so much!!

Well...

You really are like an here who arrives in the moment of need!!

Pag 6

1: Oi, don't misunderstand!! We were the ones in a pinch and this guy was the culprit!!

Yessir!

Sorry!

Ah, you exposed me...

2: Don't think you can dodge the matter of your tardiness just with your mood and cute face!!

Ah I thought I could make it

3: So?

Why... why were you late?

4: Ahh, I forgot my passport, then I remembered and turned back to get it

5: Ohhh... that's a problem indeed...

Wait!! You don't need a passport to go to Kyushu, right!?

Pag 7

1: Woah!! That was a clever excuse, Manami-san (It was so cool!)

It wasn't clever, and now let's go!!

Did you doze off?

2: Mh...? Well, on the train... it was only one stop?

So he really slept too much...?!

3: Jou-kun and Yuzukoshi-kun went on ahead?

4: They went there with yesterday's flight

Huh!

5: So, when you said “passport”, earlier- what was it, really?

6: Did you really turned back to go get something?

7: Mhh, how should I put it

8: In order to fulfill the final promise....

Pag 8

1: “The final promise”?

It was

3: a necessary piece

4: You're still wearing that ridiculous hat, Manami?

Ah... it's the one Ashikiba-san wanted last year... (Yuuto)

This is for exclusive use during the Inter High

Ohh... “exclusive use”, cool (Tobirama)

Pag 9

2: Kyoto... Kyoto...

7: Small fries!!

Pag 10

1: Then, should we go?

Are you...

Pag 11

1: finally ready?!

2: Yes....!!

3: Mi!!

6: This year's victory will be ours

Our long-awaited victory

Pag 12

1: It's checkmate!!

2: They're coming!!

3: They're coming!! One by one, to this land of Kyushu!!

4: Won't it favour us!? It's our hometown – us, Kumamoto Daichi!!

[bellrocsgf]

LJ relationship hcs w/female!reader?

Laughing Jack x Female Reader

Disclaimers: i don’t rlly think gender makes any difference to a relationship except s xually n i don’t write smut but yuh readers a girlie pop

- His one and only <3

- He couldn’t go a day without atleast seeing you, you’re literally the only reason he gives a f*bleep*k about anything. Every decision he makes, you’re his first consideration

- LJ takes you on little dates at the carnival and he prepares everything there specifically for you, he knows all your favourite foods and snacks (He stalked you to find out what those were, so romantic! 😊😊)

- LJ will take every chance to spoil you he can. He leaves all sorts of treats and presents awaiting you on your desk, bed, draws, anywhere! he loves to see the surprise on your face and any time you even mention something you want, he’ll find a way to get it.

- LJs love language is between giving gifts and physical touch, he isn’t used to being the one given gifts however if you did give him something he would cherish it and protect it with his life

- He wants other people to know that you are his and he is yours, the other creeps are weary of you because of Jack so you may have some awkward moments but Jack will make it worth it

- He has very long arms… meaning the best cuddles!!! He completely engulfs you in his chest, he’s surprisingly warm which can kind of make you feel like you just wanna drift off to sleep in his arms, sometimes he squeezes you a little to tight tho and he hates letting you go but yuh

fin~~

[twistedroseytoesy]

Hello! I'd like to be called 🫙 anon because I love marmalades and jams.

Anywho!

May I request Pomefiore with an s/o who bathes and washes their hair with the same soap when asked why they have such silky hair and smooth skin?

Vil's gonna go on a massacre

Bahahaha! Oh man! Vil is truly gonna throw a fit. But I also am somewhat like this. I at least have shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. But that’s literally it…

thank you for this 🫙 anon! sorry these are really short theres not much to make a story of, so basic headcanons will have to do.

Epel: Same though. He was a simple farm boy before he was tortured forced to do skin care and use multiple products. He usually used a simple shampoo and body wash, it got the job done and got him clean enough. You both suffer under vils crazy routines. Honestly he supports the way you shower or bathe with just 1 thing, its cheep and effective.

Rook: Non non! you must use a few more things to be truely clean! He wants to tell you but also finds how you have made things work so weel from just one type of soap to be so interesting. Despite hair needins special care and attention you only use one type of soap and yet your beauty still shines like the radient sun! Probably was the one to tell Vil about your lacking beauty care. Hes glad you at least do bathe, since hes seen some of the more filthy students on campus just wash with water and call it there.

Vil: YOU WHAT?! You mean to tell him that you only wash your body and hair with one type of soap?! no other products either?! how has your skin survived?! how do you still look so good?! he understand that you are short of funds for multiple products, but you cant just use one type of soap for everything!!! Imediatly gifts you multiple of his produts and forces you into a day of learning how to use them. Calls you each night to ensure you have used siad products and if you eve are lacking you are forced into another care day, either at your place or at pomefiore. You will not be allowed to use a singular product ever agian. he threw away your singular soap as soon as he got word.

[fazgoo-connoiseur-1987]

The idea of discourse around FNaF theories or interpretations is so funny to me cus this franchise has the plot foundation of fuckin' swiss cheese. Nothing means anything you can literally do whatever you want. Free reign, baby.

[nanamis-baker]

Guess who wrote a Suguru smut 🥲🥲

[skenpiel]

@eebie DANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! the dance is from this video ♪(^∇^*)

[uygfiug]

how do you people study through extreme exhaustion? bc thats what always gets me during the exams & i cannot keep doing this forever