#kinda proofread but not really

[rainiishowers]

May I please ask for headcanons for poly demon bros reacting to MC slapping Micheal on the face for insulting the brothers

Short Story No one was happy with Michael being in the Devildom, except for Luke who was blissfully unaware of the things that happen. The brothers were keeping MC close. Belphie refused to find an actual pillow and instead used MC as one, Mammon was being even more of a guardian and followed the human basically everywhere, Levi kept thinking of obscure excuses for the two of them to hang out whenever Michael talked to MC, among countless other things. However, that didn't stop Michael from trying to make conversation with the human, even when they clearly showed distaste of it. The Devildom seem to of made MC a lot more bolder too. It was during a party that Michael tried to slide into a conversation with MC. Instead, he wasn't trying to be smooth or whatever like he normally was trying to be, but now he was just insulting the brothers. MC listened, rage boiling up as they listen to the insults. It didn’t take long for the human to land a slap right on Michael’s cheek.

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Lucifer

Ooh boy was his patience thinning by the day.

Not only was Michael trying to get with MC, but he was doing so in that he knew would anger the brothers

But alas, he’s the Avatar of Pride so he doesn’t get angry or violent, at least not in front of everyone

So when the party came around, he and the other brothers stayed close to MC

He was talking to some party goers when he heard a slap

When he realized what happened, he felt both pride and worry

Worry over what Michael would do

Pride over the fact that MC was brave enough to do that

While escorting MC away to a safer area, he couldn’t help but have a smirk on his face.

Mammon

He was not happy, not in the slightest

Michael attempted, and succeeded, in taking away Mammon and MC time, but he also flirts with them!

Yea that’s right, he heard the constant flirting, and he was sick of it!

When he wasn’t with them, he had his crows watch over them

When it came time for the party, he stayed besides MC and only leaving when he had to, still keeping an eye on them

When Mammon sees Michael slide into a convo with MC, he wanted to kill a bitch, and he knew MC wanted to

So he walks over, going to give Michael a piece of his mind, until MC slaps him

Of course, he was grinning ear to ear, and followed MC and Lucifer when his big brother escorted the human away

He’s proud, and won’t be scared to admit it

Leviathan

Someone stop him before he tries to coax Michael on a ship and drown him

Seriously though, whenever he lays eyes on Michael for even a split second, he has so much venom in his eyes

Ya know, isolating and causing a flood to get rid of the angel sounds appealing to him...

But, he resorts to quietly sulking in the corner of the party he only attended to make sure Michael wouldn’t try to hook up with MC

Along with the murder plans playing in his mind, worries and anxieties were also playing in his mind

What if Michael does successfully woo MC, and takes them to the Celestial Realm

However, that was quickly shut down when he heard a slap given to Michael, courtesy of MC

His mind quickly went to those times in TSL where Henry stood up to an evil sorceress, and he got excited

Was quick to follow Mammon as Lucifer escorted MC away, knowing the angel was keeping a straight face but was probably livid inside

Satan

He was attempting to stay calm and collected but ever since Michael came around, he was more snappier than ever

Not only did he have to deal with the memories Lucifer had, but he also had to deal with Michael flirting with MC

Much like Levi, and all the brothers, he wanted to commit murder on this high-ranking angel

During the party, he was seen in the corner, minding his own business

Usually he’d be interacting with party-goers, but with his glowing aura and pissed off attitude, no one really wanted to interact with him

He was keeping an eye on MC and saw Michael approach them

The angel must’ve said something to make MC mad, wouldn’t be the first time, as before Michael could continue his ranting, MC landed a hefty slap right on his cheek

He felt.. glee from watching it, and alongside Mammon and Levi, followed when Lucifer escorted MC away

Man he loves this human

Asmodeus

Honestly, he was just wanting to see how Michael being in the Devildom would play out

He knew Michael wasn’t as holy as he made himself out to be

Poor Luke is gonna realize that someday..

However, the more he was here, the more bloodlust Asmo felt

But he had enough curiosity and control to hold back

During the party he, unlike Satan, was going around and chatting up the party goers.

However, he noticed at the corner of the eye, MC was with Michael

Asmo was going to drag MC away, but while approaching, he heard the slap, and by the looks of it, so did his brothers

He was curious on what Michael said to warrant such a reaction, not that he was complaining

When Asmo asked what he said, and they answered, he was really eager to rip out Michael’s throat

The Twins

They work together to protect MC and make Michael’s trip literal hell

Belphie gives Michael night terrors, sleep paralysis and a few other things, but with his rank in power, he can’t do much.. unfortunately

Beel has gotten Michael alone and has threatened the angel, that if he even thinks of hurting or making MC uncomfortable, he won’t be afraid to crush his skull

Of course, Michael had been making MC uncomfortable, so he might not last long...

Beel was put in charge of watching MC at the party to make sure Michael wouldn’t do anything while Belphie slept

Unfortunately, Michael did go up to MC and make conversation

Beel was intensely glaring Michael for a few minutes and Belphie feeling the shift in mood woke up just in time to see MC slap Michael

Of course, Belphie was proud and Beel was surprised, proud and a bit worried on what Michael would do

The taller’s fear was quelled when Lucifer escorted MC away and the brothers followed

He’ll have to make sure MC is properly okay later

As for Belphie, he has a shit eating grin on his face, but what’s new?

[deusfoundry]

zayne domestic fluff brainrot again except this time, it's you who comes home to him, and he finally gets to pamper and serve you the way you always do for him.

you're greeted by a warm waft of air the moment you open the door. the entire apartment is filled with the smell of your favorite dishes and you know instantly that, for the first time in weeks, zayne is home before you.

you hastily take off your coat and shoes, rushing past your cat sprawled in the middle of the hallway and to the kitchen where you find zayne. he's got an apron loosely tied around his waist. it takes you a second to realize that it's your gift from last week, the one that came in bright baby blue with ruffled, lace edges and an embroidered snowman dead center.

"it reminded me of you!" is what you had said when you handed it to him over dinner.

and he had thanked you with a feathery kiss on your knuckles, "i suppose i look a bit like this snowman, no?”

it still warms your heart, oddly enough, despite the fact that zayne has never been one to turn down any of your gifts, no matter how trivial or silly they were. he still has the keychain you gave him secured on the handle of his bag. the ceramic white kitten you got from your trip out of town five years ago sits comfortably on the desk at his office. one cutout panel from a photo strip of you and your cat is tucked inside an antique heart-shaped locket you found in some thrift store downtown. and there's not a moment where that locket isn't on him, one way or another, hung around his neck or buried in the safety of his pockets during surgery.

he adores you, and by extension every little trinket or piece of clothing you decide to give him.

the moment zayne turns down the heat on the stove is when you decide to make your presence known. you take light, careful steps as you walk towards him.

you wrap your arms around his waist, hands settling over his stomach.

and either he knows you've been lingering near the kitchen for a while or you weren't as sneaky as you thought, because he's not startled with your sudden arrival. he merely hums, as if to acknowledge your presence, before immediately melting against your touch. he takes one of your hands in his, the one that's not holding on to the ladle, and brings it closer to his lips.

"welcome home." he presses a kiss over your palm, absentmindedly tracing the lines with his finger. "dinner's almost ready. you should go and wash up.”

"this is a lot, zayne. thank you." you nuzzle a cheek against his back, trying to bring yourself impossibly closer to him as if you aren't already soul to soul at this very moment. "can't i at least set the table? wanna help you.”

"don't worry about it, my love." zayne turns down the stove completely. he faces you for the first time this evening, and you try not to be taken aback at how he looks at you. a bright gaze that makes him look like he’s in a trance as he’s staring at you. his eyes track the few strands of hair that manage to escape from behind your ear. he’s quick to move them out of the way. from there, his hand naturally gravitates towards your cheek where his thumb drags across smooth skin. he digs into the flesh with little pressure. "let me take care of you tonight.”

"if you insist.”

you can't help but laugh at how he sends you off. he’s ushering you to go to your shared bedroom, to get out of the clothes you’ve spent your entire day in and freshen up, but his hand stays firmly clasped around yours. it takes a few weak tugs and a lot of coaxing, of dragging out his name and using every possible pet name that comes to your mind for him to finally let you go.

when you return to your dining area after a quick shower, half of the lights are turned off. there's a set of three candles in the middle of the table lined with the placemats you only ever bring out when your parents are visiting.

zayne notices your arrival as he’s in the middle of placing two bowls of soup near your plates. he pulls out your chair, revealing the small bouquet of red chrysanthemums resting on it.

“for you.”

you’re briefly surprised as you take the flowers in your hands. he moves closer until his palm finds the small of your back.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say you're planning on popping the question tonight.” you tease.

zayne tries to hide the pink dusting his cheeks by looking the other way. “can’t a man spoil his beloved?”

“oh, of course he can.” you reach for his face, taking his jaw by your hand. gently and with little resistance, you turn his face towards yours. “and his beloved couldn’t be more grateful. really, zayne, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“i got off work early. when you told me you were working overtime, i thought it was the least i can do.”

“then let’s not keep the food waiting.” you smile.

you and zayne eat in an almost complete absence of silence as you urge him to talk about his day. and you find that it was pretty uneventful for the most part, except for the little girl he met in the hospital’s cafeteria.

“her name's mika.” he says between sips of red wine. “she’s six and she owns a cat who's three years older than her.”

you hum, motioning for him to continue.

“i met her little brother too. his name's louis, but he doesn't like being called that because it sounds too much like the name of the girl he apparently hates in school.”

“wow,” you breathe, “look at you, doctor zayne. akso hospital’s world-renowned chief cardiac surgeon and speaker to all toddlers.”

he lets out a low laugh, “i gave them some of the macarons you baked.”

“that’s adorable! did they like it?”

"when they asked who made them, i said they were baked by someone i hold near to my heart." zayne nods as he wipes the edge of lips with a napkin. "they said i should make sure to give that person lots of love."

"oh?" you lean forward, reaching across the table and past the plates of food to find his hand. "i think they might be right, doctor zayne."

zayne chuckles, choosing to indulge you. “i think so too.”

“meet me in the bedroom after i clean up?” he stands up, moving to stack the empty plates on top of each other. but you decide to beat him to it, swiftly taking the plates in your hand and out of his reach.

"leave this to me, love."

zayne frowns. there’s a slight crease on his forehead as he tries—but ultimately fails to protest. “but-”

“no buts. you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

but if there’s one thing about zayne that drives you mad, it’s that he knows when to use your weaknesses against you. he knows which parts of your bare skin to touch, what to say, how to say it. he knows that his hand sitting dangerously low on your back makes it hard for you to think of anything else. he knows that him leaning down to speak directly to your ear, hot breath fanning across cold skin, is enough to cloud your judgement.

“how about we do it together, then?”

bastard.

“fine…” you relent, knees feeling a little weak.

you two work in the kitchen like a perfectly well-oiled machine for the next half hour. he transfers all the leftovers into containers you plan on reheating over the week while you begin to scrub the plates clean.

"perhaps i did make too much…" he remarks at one point. it pulls a laugh out of you, and you bring your soap-covered hand to poke him in the cheek.

"cute." you mutter under your breath.

as the moon draws closer to its peak, you find yourself tucked in zayne’s arms, hiding under the sheets. the silk adds a layer of privacy, an added solace to the already peaceful four walls of your bedroom. and as you drift further into the land of your dreams, you think there's nothing else that could possibly be better than spending the rest of your life with zayne.

and maybe he has been sitting on the question for a while now. maybe he does have a tiny box tucked at the very back of his drawer, just waiting for the right moment to be worn on your ring finger.

[bonefanatic]

There were only two people who came to visit Jason Todd's grave; himself and his mother.

(gender neutral who uses female honorifics because i said so) ((not related to my other batfam fic))

Jason Todd had never considered them a mother before.

But that's all Red Hood could see now.

He saw his poor mother, looking so sad, so small, so tired. Their coat nearly swallowed them whole.

"Jason...?" The winter wind carried their words to him. They sounded faint, weak.

He barely manages to swallow the lump in his throat and he can only bring himself to shrug. The snow crunches as they shift, he can feel their eyes on him.

Finally, they take a step. Then another. They keep approaching until they're practically flying at him, capturing him in an embrace that could melt the snow beneath them.

"My baby...", they coo. He wants to believe the trembling in their shoulders is from the cold, but he knows better.

Suddenly, he feels like Jason again.

Like he had just been found, and he was supposed to fight his way back to Bruce, to home.

But Bruce was never really his home, especially not now.

He melts into his mother's embrace, curling into them.

"Momma...", it's the only world they leaves his mouth, but it's makes them grip him a little tighter.

For the first time, Jason wraps his arms around his mother. Not the person who found him.

His mother.

Red Hood and revenge could wait.

Right now Jason Todd need his mother.

[birthfan]

A little RP for you. No pressure, feel free to write as much or as little as you’d like :) ~ @shhhsecretsideblog

It was a warm summer evening and the platform was empty, just another woman and I, both waiting for the last train to pass by the rural station. The violet sky was still bright enough to see clouds but the street lamps were needed to see down the length of the outdoor platform. I had sat down on a bench near the entrance to wait for the train, the other woman already sitting on a bench further down the platform.

As I looked down the tracks into the distance, waiting to see the bright lights of an approaching train, I noticed the other woman was heavily pregnant. Her large belly protruded well over her thighs, legs slightly parted from its size, and her hands were placed delicately over the swell. I could see her huff and tilt her head back and I felt a pang of sympathy - I couldn’t imagine being so heavily pregnant during the height of summer.

Looking at my watch for the umpteenth time and back out along the dark train tracks, I was slowly coming to a realisation the train may not be coming. It was scheduled 10 minutes ago and I’d been here at least half an hour, so I knew I had not missed it. It was the last train and I had no idea how I was going to get back home if it didn’t show.

I was brought out of my thoughts by the distant sound of a whimper and it took me a moment to realise it had come from the pregnant lady. Illuminated by the street lights I could see her curled over her baby bump, one hand gripped the bench and the other cupped her belly. I couldn’t see her expression but her body language looked like she was in pain.

It was late and dark, feeling a sense of female solidarity I decided to go over and check if she was okay. As I approached I could hear more sounds coming from the poor girl, moaning and muttering under her breath. “… not now…. wait a little longer…please…”

Her hair fell over her face but I could see it was slightly damp with sweat, and she was shifting awkwardly on the metal bench and breathing quite heavily.

“Hi, erm… are you okay?” I asked nervously, looking at the way her belly seemed to shift under the fabric of her clothes and hoping she wasn’t about to have this kid right here on the platform.

I'm startled by your intervention, having almost forgotten about your presence. I try my best to seem normal "Y-yeah just you know, baby being overly active, some advice: don't get pregnant in the summer" I giggle nervously, unfortunately even if my acting was good enough to fool you my body clearly displayed my lie as I feel something give inside of me, then a strong splashing sound fills the empty station.

We both look down at the puddle of birthing fluids in-between my legs and before I can even think of something to say a contraction makes me double over in pain "hnnnnng fuuuuuck shit why now?!" I groan out, my baby's head already halfway through my cervix as I'd unknowingly given in to the urge now that the water sack no longer softened the feeling.

You look at me panicked, a complete stranger about to see me at my most vulnerable, "oh shit are you.... ehm pushing?" you ask, with your own expression judging your confused question as soon as it comes out of your lips.

My hands right above my knees for support as I kneel over and push "Hnnnnnnnnng hoo hooo oooh god!" I exclaim through my panting and groaning as my baby slips further down my birth canal. I begin to feel the weight of my child's head behind my lips, I can also feel gravity making them painfully bulge out without my interference.

You look panicked and entranced at the swell forming in my soaked almost see through underwear, you take a deep breath and gather your courage as you grab my hand "alright focus on me, breathe and rest, I can't imagine what you're feeling right now but I'm not just gonna stand by while a person suffers so" your confident words catch my attention and help me gather my thoughts despite the pain and fatigue.

"A-alright heeee hoooo heeee" I start breathing rhythmically like I've seen many women do "mnnnngggggaaaaaah haaa" I struggle as I push with the contraction, my lips starting to open up under my fluid soaked panties.

You hold my hands as you stand in front of me, an act of warmth, of a stranger that despite no prior relation still wants to help, I give you a pained smile to show my appreciation as words fail me in such a moment.

Unfortunately our intimate moment is interrupted by a contraction unlike any I've felt until now causing my legs to almost buckle under me as I give a big long push "hnnnnnnnnnnngggggggaaaaaAAAAAAH" a groan turning into a scream as the head quickly crowns causing my vulva to stretch beyond what I even thought was possible, the baby's dark hair being clearly visible through my panties.

I breathe shakily as I'm now below where my hands are, still joined with yours, I realise I've unknowingly forced myself into a squatting position, I look up to see a sympathetic soft smile and kind eyes, which despite everything causes me to smile lightly.

I feel another contraction building up inside of me, and so I close my eyes and focus, and then it hits "mmmmmmmm-" I moan with closed lips as I give it my all, and then finally "-mmmmmaaaah haaa oh my god" the first coherent expression in a while comes out of my upper lips just as my baby's head exits my lower lips with a spray of fluids.

It is at this point that I remember that I never removed my ruined underwear as I feel the head pressing against them, "h-hey I need your mmm he-help with something?" I'm able to stammer out as you nod and lower yourself to match my eye level "what do you need me to do?"

"I n-ne-need you to go behind me and-d hooooooo-" a contraction catches me by surprise as I focus on talking and interrups me, the need to push, hopefully one last time, is unbearable. As soon as my pained moan interrupts my train of thought you rush behind me and cup your hands below me "-oooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOH" I scream near the end of my moan as my baby painfully slides out of me into my panties causing them to reach their breaking point as they collapse causing my child to fall into your hands.

I collapse on the station floor, not caring about the state of it as I pant from exhaustion "haa haaa th-thank you" I'm able to breathe out, "ehm you're welcome" you say slightly embarrassed now that the confidence has worn off. "It's a girl by the way ehm congrats" you say handing her to me as I sit "what are you gonna call her?".

I think about it for a second and then ask "what is your name?"

Thanks so much for the ask!!! It was fun to write, sorry I'm still rusty but I hope you enjoyed it anyways, it came out longer then expected lol, don't get used to it just yet hehe

[go6jo]

childhood friend karasu who throughout the years you've witnessed jump from one relationship to another despite the obvious feelings that are left unaddressed between the two of you. there is this tangible tension, one that grows substantial with time, with each relationship you watch him get into. and you're somewhat aware of your feelings towards each other yet neither of you own up to it.

you will often show up to his front door on a short notice, to hang out on the occasions that you were coincidentally driving past his house after work. more often than not, however, he'll open the door with his shirt slung over his shoulder, and if you took a peak inside you'd notice some girl, one that looks nothing like you, whose features couldn't be more distinct from your own, sprawled on the couch of his living room, her hair a mess, lipstick smeared all over her lips down to her chest, smudges of red disappearing under the collar of her shirt that's riding dangerously up her stomach. more often than not, too, he'll smirk at the way you look away from the scene in front of you, trying to act unfazed, how you try, to no avail, to conceal the frustration that shows in the furrow of your brows. jealousy, it reads on your face - it's written all over it, even a blind man could see it. "wanna join?" but you've already started walking away and tabito thinks he knows the answer, anyways. (you've never been one for sharing, not ever since you were a child and as he watches you leave there’s a certain tenderness that settles in his chest, that softens the smirk on his face into a subtle smile, one of affection upon realising that, when it comes to him, you never really stopped behaving like the little girl he knew and grew up with, the little girl who had always wanted him all to herself.)

you watch as girls grind up against him at the club everytime go out together. he’s grown handsome, you reckon, (more handsome now at 20 than 14 year old you would ever thought he’d turn out to be.), drawing some attention, girls naturally flocking to him - something you’re still not used to. him being the object of other people’s affection. you having to share. your eyes meet across the room - you stare at him in silent revulsion, as an affront when he lets them cling onto him, smirking at you over the girl's shoulder as she starts kissing up his neck, feeling him up, her manicured nails grazing down his chest. what are you gonna do about it, he mouths at you in defiance. like clockwork, you pretend that you didn't take notice of his disappearance, that you didn't feel a knot in your stomach as you watched some girl drag him into the bathroom with her and when it's time to leave, you pretend you don't notice that the buttons at the top of his shirt are undone - that he's breathless and his pupils are blown wide. you get in his car and he drives you both home - to his place - then you get inside and you both pretend like there is nothing to be said. you slip out of your heels and you curse him quietly when he walks past you into the living room. "you're an asshole, tabito" but there isn't any malice to it, it's meek in a way. sad and hopeless. he just scoffs in fake amusement, discarding of his shirt and throwing it in the couch. all of his witty qualities, any energy he might've had to retort with a cheeky remark began to fade as soon as he had walked through the front door. he always found it harder to play pretend in the silence of his home, away from all the buzz, where the feelings you've both been negleting for way too long begin to weigh heavy in the athmosphere. there's a certain bitterness hanging in the air as he adjusts himself on the couch to settle for the night, as you walk into his room and lock the door behind you. neither of you have the energy to argue anymore. you used to fight on nights like these, “does it bother you that much?”, he'd ask once the dust begins to settle with his forehead touching yours, holding your chin so you couldn’t avert your gaze away from him. “could be you, you know?”. he tells you as he kisses your cheek, left then right, on each corner of your mouth, dangerously close to your lips then holds your head against his chest. he could be so sweet, so convincing. you used to fight but that was before, when you still thought it was worth a shot, that this was worth fighting for - whatever this was. "just say the word and i’m yours, baby.”

liar. he’s pretending to care when he squeezes your hand a little tighter in his as soon as he begins to feel you grow restless as you struggle to engage in conversation with his friends, too afraid to intrude yet too scared of looking bored as they talk football tactics (you had just wanted to spend some time with him after a whole week of being too busy to hang out). faking the kindness in his smile, too, as he tries his best to put you at ease. they like, you know, he tells you once you leave, eita’s told me you should give him a call if you’re ever done being friends with me. he’s only feigning sympathy when he offers to rub your feet after a long day, when he kneads your calves as your legs rest over his on the couch. he’s pretending to be attentive when he rubs up and down your arms as you stand in line together to keep you cosy on a particular chilly day, lwhen he tells cashier your coffee order that he has memorized by heart, when he brings your hands up to his lips and blows some warmth into them, sharing some of his heat after your coffees run cold in your grasp, definitely only acting suave when he presses his lips ever so softly against the skin of your forehead to check your temperature when, on the following day, you tell him you might be getting sick.

so you refused to yield. you've loved him for as long as you can remember yet still you never wavered in your decision to refuse to surrender to him. he's all you've ever known, for the longest time you watched him jump from one relationship to another thinking that someday when he grew older, more mature, he'd stop playing these games with you. so you waited, you waited until you realised that maybe you'd never see the end of it, that maybe he just enjoyed being chased, enjoyed how suscetible you were to his provocations, thrived on your silent jealosy — he must have thought it was flattering. he's always loved to pick on those weaker than him, to feel like he has the upper hand while picking on their weaknesses and yours just so happens to be him. you don't think he ever means it when he says he'd be yours, that he'll drop his current girlfriend if you ask him to, if only you tell him you want him. to admit such a thing, however, you think, would be to akin to handing him the gun with which you he’ll make you meet your demise. it is a scary thing to have someone hold that power over you, the power to destroy you if they so desire. so you won't surrender, it hurts enough already as it is.

but he has needs, he tells you, (teases you), and if you won’t indulge him he will have someone else tend to them. and karasu does try to enjoy their company to a certain extent - pretends to make love to you through them. pretends it's your tongue he's sucking on, your whines, your scent, your touch. and even though he purposefully chooses girls that look nothing like you, he manages to get into it so long as he keeps his eyes shut. his relationships never go past the three month mark, though. Karasu does just enough to keep the entertained, kisses them nice and slow so they feel cared for, feels and gropes them over their clothes while whispering all kinds of dirty things into their ears, all the things he will do to them (all the things he’d like to do to you) and for a while those empty promises are enough to keep them around. he knows what women want and knows how to keep them on their toes. it never goes past that, though. it never lasts much longer once he begins rejecting their every advance because as soon as they start kissing down his chest, their fingers sneaking past the waistband of his underwear, he is grabbing their wrists while glancing down at them with a dangerous look on his face. it’s not long before they start whining at him, telling him he’s no fun and leave through the front door, never to be seen again. then he’s left to think of you. it was fun for a while, to introduce you to all of these different girls and watch you act friendly with them only for you to let your frustrations out on him as soon as the two of you were alone. it sort of amused him, really. for quite some time, your jealousy had been enough for Tabito, it'd been enough reassurance of the feelings you still harboured for him after all these years. it was proof that you desired him and maybe if your desire was strong enough, maybe you wouldn’t notice that he’s not that special after all. that there is nothing exceptional about him, not a secret quirk or any hidden talent or passion besides football - not much to give, not much to love. he had relied on all these girls who blindly craved him so hopefully you, too, would find him worthy of love, your love. but it's been too long now and you’re both adults and he's tired of playing this game of cat and mouse and you might probably think he's the worst person alive by now so it's no use trying to convince you of his feelings for you either. and how could he blame you for it, really? for not trusting him when all he has done for the past years is deceive you.

then he goes off to paris and he begins to take his relationships more seriously, as a way to actively work towards getting over you. he’s sparking all kind of dating rumours when he’s seen leaving practice with a french model under his arm. you haven’t heard of him for over a year and you see the pictures all over social media. on the first picture of the sequence you can tell he’s just left practice because his skin is covered in a wet sheen of sweat. he's smiling and his jersey is clinging to his torso almost a bit too provocatively (you're sure he'd bask in the praise of the people on the comment section complimenting his physique) and you can’t help but notice the way the sleeves are a little too tight around his arms, he has put on some muscle since the last time you saw him - he looks so handsome and hes a lot stronger and you miss him so much. you smile fondly at your screen but your smile begins to falter as you scroll through the pictures and theres an image of a blonde handing him a bottle of water while he noses at her cheek affectionately, in gratitude you think, another picture capturing a more intimate moment where he’s holding her head to his chest as he drinks from the bottle and you don't think you've ever seen him be this genuinely gentle towards anyone before, anyone but you. there is an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, you feel sick — it’s the first time you’re truly scared of losing him. you call him almost instantly - instinctively. you don’t know what to say if he picks up, you don’t even know if you want him to pick up, you don't even know why you’re calling him but you feel nauseous and your vision is blurry from all the tears that are threating to spill and its taking him way too long to pick up. you have half a mind to hang up when you hear his voice on the other end and you start sobbing, unable to form any cohesive sentences, apologizing to him instead, over and over again.

“hi, bab-“ it should've felt comforting to know that even after all this time his voice is still gentle when talking to you, that he'll never stop calling you baby - that you're still his baby.

“sorry.” you say in between hiccups “im sorry. please, tabito. im so sorry. dont do this, please.”

he wants to say he has no idea what you're talking about, that he's happy now, happy with her that he never once wondered how you'd react once the news reached you on the other side of the globe. he pretends he can't feel his heart aching in his chest at your crying fit because he'd dreamed of a moment like this - where you'd call him crying, begging for him. you'd always been so tough that he thought it'd be somewhat sweet to watch you finally break - he didn't foresee this though. feeling this gutted, this miserable at the weak sound of your voice, hating himself this much. he never thought things would reach such dimensions, could never imagine the depths of your feelings for him, that you'd hurt so much for him. its breaks his heart. he aches for you yet he finds you ache for him just as much.

"hey." he hushes. “i won’t, baby. i won’t, okay?”

his words seem to soothe you and he lets you cry for a little longer until your sobs gradually begin to fade on the other side of the line until it's mostly quiet. he runs a hand through his hair, unsure of what to tell you, of what to do.

“you have got to give me something here, pretty.” he can feel you grow agitated again as he listens to your quivering breath. “i need to know what you want.”

it's silent again until you begin to sob quietly, trying to get the words out. “i need you, please. don’t do this.”

“you’re hurting me, tabito.”

you sound so small, childish almost and he loathes it. he loves you and he doesn't want to see you hurt anymore, not for him. he loves you so much, so much, but he’d been so worried you’d see through him, that you'd deem him insignificant - so focused on making you love him. all this time he forgot about making you feel loved in return, cared for.

"your address still the same?" he wants to hold you, he thinks. to kiss your face while whispering sweet nothings onto your ear, again, again and again until you believe it when he tells you he loves you. he hears a sound of confirmation coming from you and he adjusts himself on the couch, a arm folding behind his neck for support, waiting for your breaths to even out and he tells you he’ll stay with you until you fall asleep. he stays and he completely forgets about the blonde sleeping in his bed next door.

a few days go by and you feel stupid for thinking that maybe he’d come to visit you, that he'd come to kiss away your tears and tell you that he wants to be with you, he’ll stay in japan just to be with you (you'd innocently dreamed of it. that his love for you would make him stay, your councious mind tells you that you'd never overcome that guilt, though. you'd never want to stall him, to ruin the bright future he has ahead of him. so instead, you choose to dream of a love that's enough to bind you two together despite however many miles might stand between the two of you.) you watch him on television and he shines on the field and you engrave that same image into the back of your mind because you think that’s the last you’ll ever see of him. but one day, two weeks after the call, when you’ve come to terms with the fact that maybe he’s not coming, he shows up at your doorstep and all you can do is drop your head onto his chest — surrendering, to him, in the sweetest submission. something so docile, so earnest it has his chest aching in adoration. there are no ulterior motives to your touches as you run your hands down the expanse of his arms only to finally link your fingers with his when you reach his hands. no other reason besides the fact that you want to touch him, feel him. he’s here and that’s enough. he’d been gone for so long that, for now, you won’t demand anything more of him except for his touch. it feels innocent again, mellow like when you were kids — uncomplicated. it feels overly sweet when you look up at him with honeyed eyes and hold his face in the palms of your hands getting on the tip of your toes to place a lingering kiss in the corner of his mouth, both of you with your eyes softly closed. then you move with uncertainty to brush your lips against his. it’s only then that he reacts, that he snaps out oh his reverie and grabs your face in his hands to put some distance between you. just enough so that he can look you in the eye, just enough to gain back his composure.

“no.” he locks eyes with you, holding you firmly in place. he kisses the furrow of your brows in a soothing manner, in reassurance at the look of betrayal on your face. “say it, baby.”

he looks down to traces a finger over the collar of your night dress and there a certain eagerness to his words, to the way he leans his forehead against yours and his chest is heaving in antecipation. he wanted to kiss you, too. and it fills you with courage.

“just make me your girlfriend, tabito,” you sigh “please.”

and it feels good to surrender. to be held in his arms as he kisses you slow, longingly. i have very little to offer you. the hands that roam your body and slide up your thighs under the fabric of your dress want to say. it’s enough, the hands that hold him closer to you whisper. you’re enough.

“you say it, now.” you pull away from him, breathless. “say it’s only ever been me.”

“yeah, baby. yeah.” he closes his eyes as he chuckles lovingly at the determination in your eyes and holds your head to his chest, close to his heart. (still not quite close enough.) “you’re my girl. you’ve always been my girl.”

[lebanesetoaster]

the common fanon is that they met over the eight dead bodies of agatha's original coven. and it makes as much sense as anything else

I know this wasn't a prompt but. I'm feeling fic-ish after all the unfinished questions. I'm not fact checking anything against canon, buckle up and come along for the ride if you please. How did they meet.

Agatha is reeling. She's sobbing. She feels like she can't pull enough fresh air into her chest. She's on her knees, surrounded by the mummified corpses of her coven. Of her mother. Of the only family she has ever known. The only thing she can see through her tears is purple light. It's cracking around her, popping and sparking and warm against the cool New England night.

And when she lifts her head, there's a soft green glow in the distance. She blinks once, twice, and her vision goes from purple to green, with a face alarmingly close, wide eyes peering at her curiously. Surrounded by calm green light, she can finally pull in a full breath of the cool night air, and another, and another. And suddenly, she's breathing rather than sobbing. And the dark eyes are still on her, brow furrowed in concern.

Moments pass, maybe seconds, maybe hours, with both of them breathing in unison. Just... breathing. Remembering how to breathe. Learning, perhaps. For a moment, she thought she might have forgotten how. But it's coming back to her. She's coming back to herself.

The purple has calmed too. It's dancing quietly along her fingertips now. Her vision is clearing. The woman's eyes are still on her.

Agatha knows all the women in town. This one is different. Unfamiliar. Clothes of moss and bark that almost appear to be growing from soft flesh. The woman tilts her head curiously, and Agatha mirrors the gesture. "Who are you," falls, unbidden, from her lips.

The woman startles, as if crashing back to reality, the soft calm in her eyes giving way to something else, something, for a moment, almost skittish, as her gaze flicks to the bodies. But Agatha shivers, and sways, exhaustion catching up to her. How long have they been here?

All at once, the ground seems to be rushing up to meet her, but not as quick as the woman. Her landing is soft.

[joseigamer]

hi, so i was able to stumble on something really interesting: an interview with the vampire one volume manga adaptation called "yoake no vampire" that came out shortly after the original movie did in 1994. as an adaptation it's very faithful to the book, just really condensed.

the first two chapters got scanlated into english from japanese 13 years ago, but the last one never was. unfortunately the japanese raws of the thing are no longer online but i was able to find a portuguese scanlation of the last chapter. i ended up doing what i would call "edited machine translation" on it (consulting a portuguese version of the original book to cross reference translations since a lot of dialogue was taken directly, checking dictionaries to confirm translations, redrawing some parts, etc). it's not perfect but i think it makes sense from beginning to end.

would people still be interested in me sharing? i would also include the portuguese "raws" of course (the translation group is defunct now but with credit to them ofc) i figured it might be a fun treat for anyone who's already read the book while we wait for the later episodes of the amc show (but also just for book!iwtv fans).

below are example pages (not in order)

[welcometogrouchland]

I also think it's nice that they made Camilla a sci-fi nerd and Luz a fantasy nerd. They're genres that are often seen as completely opposing one another by many people, which is what we're led to believe about Luz and Camilla in season 1. Luz is silly, nerdy, frequently in over her head and irresponsible and loves the boiling isles. We're led to believe that Camilla is the normal, conventional TV mother who'd be disgusted and terrified by the demon realm if she saw it.

Then yesterday's lie gives us a lot of nuance to this, and we realize that while they're still very different and now on opposite sides of a conflict, both mother and daughter are incredibly kind people (seen in their treatment of Vee) who love each other but struggle to make the right choices without hurting one another.

Then thanks to them drops all this Camilla characterization and we realize! She was a nerd too this whole time! The wedge between Camilla and Luz is motivated by past traumas and grief! and for the future has them switching sides on the central conflict of where Luz should stay (Camilla now wanting Luz in the demon realm because it's what's best for her, and Luz believing that staying in the human realm is what's best for the people she loves). They finally talk and realize that, like Willow pointed out earlier in the ep, the two are so alike. Camilla reveals that she's a secret nerd too! That she had a hard time growing up and accidentally hurt Luz trying to save her from the same fait! It's so important to me that Camilla keeps calling Luz a good witch. It's affirming her interests and goals, reminding her that she's just as good as the hero of her favorite story. And Luz finally only realizes that she wants to be understood...when she's finally able to understand her mom. When she realizes that the woman she loves and admires is just as much of a nerdy screw-up as her and that there's hope for her. Her palismen ends being multiple animals at once, showing both how Luz making unconventional choices (like carving an egg) keeps paying off for her and how her potential is limitless now that she finally knows and accepts her own goals, but to me it also reminds of the fact that Camilla is a vet and passed a love of all the weird and unliked animals (like wolves, possums, snakes, etc) to her.

It's just so so sweet and it really shows how much love and thought the crew put into this mother daughter storyline (FTF haters are not welcome on this page, respectfully). I can't wait to see how both of these misunderstood but healing women (who radiate "little/big sister" and "mom" energy respectively) are gonna interact with a) the lonely, easily manipulated and well intentioned but ignorant collector (a mix of both their interests as a magic being with a space motif! I just realized that lol) and b) the nasty puritan white man who's really obsessed with conforming to society's norms even when it literally doesn't benefit him at all.

Anyway, I believe in noceda( AND clawthorne 👀) family supremacy 💙

[lumilescense]

Why Sherlock Holmes's Introduction Scene is Important to his Autism Coding

Ive made several sherlock holmes posts now so obviously i now have to talk about autism-

Im not an expert in autism for starters but i did discuss this with many people and it was one of the clearest scenes i remembered when judging Sherlock adaptations. I would dare to say Holmes's introduction is one of the most important scenes to his autism-coding, and that when adaptations fail to realize its importance, it also tends to reflect on how they code Holmes.

We hear about Holmes before we see him. The description of him is more than a bit negative and uncomfortable at this time, with Stamford being overcautious and warning Watson about Holmes's tempers. While i cant read this now without the pop culture knowledge of Holmes, I suppose it was to build up tension as to what sort of strange scientist he would be.

Yet when we meet Holmes, hes doing some chemical work. When he spots Watson and Stamford, he immediately runs over to them and excitedly shows them that hes made a chemical that detects hemoglobin. He only briefly brings up Watson's military career, just the barest hint to intrigue us.

He then starts rambling excitedly and passionately about how his chemicals work. He goes into the effect they have on his job, and criminal justice as a whole. Him infodumping about his passions is a fantastic introduction by the way, but some people skip it or place more focus on extending his deductions of Watsons life. This introduction does a lot to show how overall passionate he is about his work, and that it is what he cares to be speaking on (this is one of the rare times we see him out of case mode).

I think its worth it to note that while the scene is written with hints of Watson being overwhelmed, he seems willing to go along with whatever Holmes is saying. Basically, while he finds Holmes's demeanor odd, he still tries to engage positively and follow what Holmes is saying.

They also exchange things each other should know as roommates, both relatively cheerful and relaxed about it. Watsons behavior is what i consider also important for his characterization, but i am here to talk about Holmes (oh just you wait watson-)

The thing is, this introduction is one of the most humanizing depictions of Holmes. While he is talking about crime, this shows early on he has interests related to it that arent just "deduction." It is also a very active conversation from him! He infodumps incredibly excitedly, projecting more than he seems to normally, interrupting Watson several times, and forgoing social convention.

This can be seen in direct contrast to how Stamford introduces him, showing the humanity and passion behind what he described. It gives us an even broader view of Holmes from the get go.

Holmes's introduction codes him as autistic by showing what he looks like when *excited*

The fact the first thing we get to see of this character is his overwhelming care and passion for his work is not only important to his character, it should be the basis for his autism coding. He is excited! He gets overwhelmed with how he likes his work! He forgets not everyone else knows what he does! He wants to show, share, and explain it to everyone in good humor!

To me, that is something ive experienced with every autistic person ive known, and the details of it are so, so instrumental

[patheticgirlsteve]

Steve is fucking tired. Exhausted, even. He doesn’t get much sleep, as a rule, but last night had been even worse than usual. The nightmares were ceaseless, each one waking up him up in a cold sweat or with tears on his face, and every time he managed to fall back asleep it didn’t take long before another one came along. Eventually he just threw the towel in, giving up on sleep for the night.

He had thought about calling Robin, but had quickly dismissed the idea. She was definitely sleeping and he didn’t want to wake her up and drag her into sleeplessness with him. Plus, there was the fact that she had parents who actually lived with her and he didn’t want to risk waking them up either and having to explain why he was calling their daughter at four in the morning.

So he had gone downstairs and pulled the glass doors to the backyard open, had sat down next to the pool and stared at the sickeningly blue water. Each ripple felt like it was mocking him, taunting him for his inability to save Barb, his inability to get back into the water, his inability to truly move on.

He had ended up spending the next two and half hours staring at the pool with unfocused eyes before realizing the time and snapping out of his trance and rushing to get ready to pick up Robin and Dustin to take them to school. He had driven them both before on even less sleep than he had gotten tonight, they would be fine. He would never let either of them get hurt if he could help it.

Picking up Dustin had gone as it always did, Dustin having way too much energy for the early hour and talking Steve’s ear off about his new favorite topic: Eddie Munson.

Eddie fucking Munson. Dustin could barely stop singing the guy’s praises for long enough to take a breath and Steve was getting tired of pretending it didn’t bug him. He was getting replaced in Dustin’s life by a two time super senior. Like, what the fuck? Just because this guy plays Danger and Demons or whatever the fuck it’s called, he’s somehow better than Steve? Yeah fucking right.

Steve remembers Eddie from school. Obviously he remembers Eddie, the guy makes himself impossible to forget. Steve remembers him being loud and obnoxious at every possible opportunity. He remembers Eddie’s wild hair, his mischievous eyes, his long ring-covered fingers. He remembers that whenever he glanced at Eddie across the lunch room (his eyes seeking him out for no particular reason) Eddie was always already watching Steve. He remembers their eyes always meeting with a startling and, quite frankly, terrifying spark of something that Steve was unwilling to look too closely at. He remembers being the first to pull his eyes away every single time, jerking back from the eye contact like it had somehow burned him.

So, yeah. Steve remembers Eddie Munson.

And as if that wasn’t enough to remember him by, Steve still sees the guy every single week when he picks the kids up from their game. Every single time, Eddie throws him a smirk that makes Steve’s stomach feel funny and a wave and waits to see all the kids get into Steve’s car before getting in his own and driving away.

Eddie’s hair has grown longer in the time that Steve has known him, and the way it always catches the light in the setting sun outside the high school is, well, it’s not something Steve dwells on.

Dustin is still talking when they pull up to Robin’s house. It’s close enough to the school that she could technically walk, but with all of her band stuff it was easier for Steve to pick her up on his way there. Plus, he liked it. He loved Robin, she was the platonic love of his life and if he could spend a few extra minutes with her every morning then he absolutely would.

Steve is yawning painfully wide when Robin yanks the passenger seat door open and throws herself inside of the car haphazardly. Dustin makes an indignant exclamation as she tosses her backpack and trumpet case into the backseat.

“Hey!” His voice cracks a little bit and normally Steve would give him so much shit for it, but he’s too fucking tired to tease him right now. Luckily, Robin picks up his slack. He doesn’t make out what she says exactly, but it sounds scathing, and Dustin’s response sounds equally biting.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Steve takes his eyes off the road to look at Dustin in the mirror and shoot a glare at Robin. “It’s too early for this shit, either be nice or be quiet.”

“Someone’s grumpy this morning,” Robin says. She turns around to bare her teeth at Dustin threateningly when he kicks her seat. Dustin is still a little intimidated by Robin, which Steve usually finds hilarious but he’s not laughing about it right now. “You look exhausted, dude. Did you even sleep last night?”

Steve sighs and wipes a hand down his face, letting it drag. “Barely,” He says and he sees Robin’s sympathetic grimace from the corner of his eye. “A couple hours.”

“Steve,” Robin pokes at the side of his head, messing with his hastily and messily styled hair. He tries to swat her hand away while still keeping an eye on the road.

“Jesus Christ, Rob,” He manages to smack her hand away from his head. “Do you want me to crash the car? Cut it out!”

She reaches her hand back up to gently run her fingers through his hair, an affectionate gesture that she knows Steve loves. “I’m worried about you, Steve, this is getting ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Dustin chimes in from the backseat, giving Steve a pointed look at flicking his eyes to Robin’s hand in his hair. Steve just rolls his eyes because he’s used to Dustin’s well-meaning but entirely futile attempts at setting him up with Robin by now. “This is, like, the third time this week, man. Is it even safe for you to be driving?”

He leans forward and Steve frowns as he pulls into the school parking lot, slowing down as they approach the drop-off spot in front of the building. “Dude, why aren’t you wearing your seatbelt?”

“Because I needed to be able to lean up here, this conversation is important for me to be a part of, considering it’s my life that’s at stake.” He imitates Robin with a sharp tug to Steve’s hair.

“Ow! Hands off the hair! God, you’re dramatic,” Steve huffs in exasperation and a swat at Dustin like he’s a particularly pesky fly, fighting down another yawn. He directs his gaze towards Dustin’s in the rear view mirror. “You’re not gonna die, I’m perfectly fine to drive. Nobody’s gonna get hurt with me behind the wheel, I promise.”

THUD.

Steve slams the breaks as he hears his car collide with something. Oh god, someone.

Everyone in the car screams, excluding Steve, who shouts, “Oh, fuck!” before putting the car in park, turning it off, and leaping out to check on the person who he just hit with his goddamn car.

“I am so sorry, man,” He scrambles to the front of his car, eyes landing on a sprawled out student with dark curly hair and a leather jacket. Fuck. Of course he just accidentally hit Eddie Munson with his car. He’s never gonna hear the end of this. “Shit, Munson, are you okay?”

Steve crouches down in front of Eddie, who has pulled himself into a sitting position and is rubbing at his temple. Eddie’s eyes dart up to Steve’s and even in this fucked up situation, there’s still that confusing feeling somewhere deep inside him when their eyes meet.

“I know you’re not my biggest fan, but I never thought you would try to kill me, Harrington,” Eddie’s voice is breathless but not biting. He’s teasing Steve. “With all of these witnesses, no less.”

Steve looks up and, yeah, there’s a crowd that has gathered to see what’s happening and he catches snatches of whispers, “King Steve,” and “The Freak,” coming through in between gossip.

“I really didn’t mean to hit you, I’m so sorry,” Steve continues to apologize. “Dustin was talking shit so I was telling him off and I wasn’t looking where I was going and I’m really really sorry,” He tries to explain, wants Eddie to understand that Steve really didn’t mean to do that.

Eddie is looking at him with an odd expression, and it’s certainly not the kind of expression that one directs at a man who just hit you with a car. The look in his eyes is amused and… soft? It makes Steve’s cheeks heat and he finds that he can’t pull his gaze away until he spots a trickle of blood streaming down from where Eddie’s hand is still pressed against his forehead.

Steve reaches his hand up without thinking, pulling Eddie’s hand away by the wrist and leaning in closer to inspect the source of the blood.

There’s a small cut on Eddie’s forehead, nothing too serious but Steve still feels like shit for being the one to cause it. “Let me patch this up for you before you go in.”

Eddie squints at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah, okay. Thanks.”

Dustin takes this moment to speak up, coming up behind Steve and aiming a sharp kick at the center of his back.

“Fucking ow, Dustin!” Steve turns his head to glare up at the fuming teenager.

“You deserved it!” He shrieks in that way that only Dustin can shriek. Steve notices the crowd around them has started to dissipate, now that it’s clear that nobody is dead or seriously injured. “I mean, I know you’re jealous of Eddie because I’ve been spending more time with him lately, but I didn’t think you would try to kill him over it!”

“I didn’t try to kill him, Jesus Christ, Dustin,” Steve rolls his eyes. “It was an accident because you,” he points a finger sharply at Dustin. “Were distracting me from the road.”

“You can’t just blame me for you hitting a pedestrian, Steve,” He says his name with such disrespect that Steve feels something hot and angry flare up in his gut. He takes a deep breath to calm himself before speaking again.

“Rob,” He turns to Robin who has also gotten out of the car and is watching this whole exchange with sharp eyes. “You and Dustin go inside, you’re gonna be late. I’ll take care of Eddie.”

“You expect me to just leave him in your care?” Dustin cuts back in with his arms crossed over his chest. “After you just ran him over? Yeah, I don’t think so.”

“He didn’t run me over,” Eddie speaks up and Steve’s head whips back to look at him. Eddie catches his eye with a small grin before looking back up at Dustin. “It sounds to me like you were distracting the driver and this is more your fault than Harrington’s.”

Dustin gapes at him and Steve has to fight back a laugh at the totally shocked look on his face. “But—“

“No buts, go inside with Buckley,” Eddie doesn’t let Dustin get any argument in. “Nurse Harrington will take good care of me, won’t you, big boy?”

Steve freezes, his entire body going confusingly warm and he knows his face is red, if Eddie’s growing smirk is any indication. “Uh, yeah, I— uh—“

Eddie takes pity on him, despite being the one to put him in the situation to begin with, and claps him on the shoulder. Steve has to fight a sudden and inexplicable urge to lean into the touch, but Eddie removes his hand before Steve can even begin to question that instinct. “See, Dusty? I’m in expert hands. Practically an EMT, good old Stevie.”

Robin snorts and doesn’t bother trying to hide it, shooting Steve a Look that Steve knows is supposed to mean something but he doesn’t know what. “Come on, Henderson, let’s leave these two to play doctor alone.”

She tugs on Dustin’s backpack and drags him over, turning him around to face the school and pushes him forward. Dustin grumbles and shoots another look back at Eddie and Dustin, but he doesn’t fight it when Robin nudges him forward again.

As they leave, Robin gives Steve one more extremely pointed look. He’s never told her about the weird way that Eddie makes him feel, but he has a feeling that she knows already and that she knows exactly what those feelings mean. He senses an inescapable conversation with her on the horizon and looks away from her.

Unfortunately, that leaves him looking at Eddie. Eddie who is looking up at Steve with curiosity and that same strange mix of amusement and bizarre affection that Steve just cannot fathom. He realizes that he’s been holding Eddie’s wrist this entire time and quickly lets go of it, the brisk fall air hitting his skin in startling contrast to the warmth of Eddie’s skin under his. The blood on Eddie’s face drips off of his chin and spurs Steve into action.

“Okay,” He pulls himself up into standing and reaches both hands down to pull Eddie up after him. They end up standing chest-to-chest, not nearly enough since between them. Steve takes a step back and releases his grips on the other man, who looks almost bereft when Steve lets go of him. The expression doesn’t last, Eddie covers it quickly and Steve doesn’t think about it. “Take a seat on the hood, I’ll grab the first aid kit and we’ll take care of that cut, sound good?”

Eddie nods and takes a step back towards the car. Steve turns around and pops the trunk to retrieve the massive first aid kit that he stores in his trunk next to his nailbat. He slams the trunk shut and returns to the front of the car, where Eddie is now perched, his legs swinging in front of him.

Steve sits down next to him, paying close attention to the distance between them, making sure to keep it wide, and snaps open the sides of the kit to begin pulling out the things he needs to clean and bandage Eddie’s face.

“Holy shit,” Eddie remarks, watching Steve pull out some sterile wipes, a disinfectant, and some bandages. “Didn’t take you for a doomsday prepper. You keep all this shit in your car?”

“Yeah,” Steve opens one of the wipes and starts working on cleaning the blood and (thankfully) minimal debris off of Eddie’s face. He doesn’t think about how intimate it feels to be this close to the other man and to be touching his face so gently. I’d he tells himself enough times that he’s not thinking. about it then maybe eventually it will be true. “I babysit a bunch of teenagers, you can never be too prepared.”

Eddie hums like he understands, and maybe he does, but he also doesn’t seem to fully buy into Steve’s explanation. He lets it go, though, opting instead to tease Steve some more.

“You spend a lot of time with teenagers, huh, Harrington?” He asks and Steve doesn’t look at his face as he picks up the disinfectant.

“So do you, Munson,” He does look up now to quirk an eyebrow at him and is pleased when Eddie’s grin widens. “From what I’ve heard, the kids just can’t get enough of you.”

“I was about to say the same thing about you,” Eddie doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze burns against Steve’s face as he’s directing his attention to carefully applying the ointment to the cut. “I believe Dustin mentioned something about you being jealous? You know that kid adores you, right? He basically worships the ground you walk on.”

Steve squints at him, pulling away to take in all of Eddie’s face. Eddie’s expression is open, his eyes wide as always, and Steve feels unmoored by it.

“Yeah?” Steve asks and Eddie nods. “Well, he’s got a real funny way of showing it.”

Eddie huffs a small laugh and Steve thinks that if they were just a bit closer he would have felt the puff of air against his face. Tries not to feel disappointed that he didn’t. “Yeah, that kid has a serious attitude problem.”

“You’re telling me,” Steve commiserates as he reaches for a bandage. “He’s a brat.”

“It’s his tone, right?” Eddie agrees and Steve laughs lightly. He peels open the wrapper and leans in to line the center of the bandage up to Eddie’s cut. He’s taking more time than he should, Eddie is already late for class and Steve knows that he probably can’t afford to miss much more, but he finds himself not wanting this conversation to end. He wants to continue sitting this close to Eddie and to touch Eddie’s face. He feels a little crazy just for thinking it.

“Yeah, it’s the tone,” Steve agrees as he smooths the bandage down flat against Eddie’s skin. He lets his hand linger for a second too long before he pulls back. He thinks he sees a flash of disappointment on Eddie’s face as he removes his hand, but it’s gone so soon that he thinks maybe he was just imagining it. Again. “He looks up to you a lot too, you know?”

Eddie watches him for a moment before responding. “Yeah, I think you might be right.”

Steve nods, unsure of what he’s supposed to say next. He’s never exchanged more than three words at a time with Eddie before and he wonders now why he had waited so long to do so. He gives Eddie an awkward pat on the shoulder and slides off of the hood, packing up the first aid kit and snapping the clasps shut. He feels Eddie’s eyes on him the entire time and wills himself not to blush under the attention. He feels his ears get warm and knows that he’s failed.

When he turns his face back to Eddie, he’s startled to see that Eddie had silently scooted closer to him, still seated on the hood of the car. His face is right next to Steve’s and Steve feels frozen where he stands. He doesn’t breathe as Eddie’s eyes dart back and forth between his own because he’s afraid of shattering the strange tension of the moment. Eddie’s searching for something in his eyes and Steve doesn’t know what.

Apparently, he finds it, because he leans back with a delighted smile and releases a loud laugh that makes Steve’s stomach do something funny. Steve thinks that Eddie has a nice laugh, he thinks he wouldn’t mind hearing it more.

Eddie slides off the hood and scoops up his book bag, which was still on the ground in front of Steve’s car. He slings one strap over his shoulder and begins moving away from the car, walking backwards and grinning at Steve as he goes.

“Thanks for patching me up, Nurse Harrington,” Eddie salutes him and Steve fights the urge to reach out a steadying hand when Eddie stumbles a little bit on the curb.

“Sorry for hitting you with my car,” Steve apologizes again and Eddie’s answering laugh is bright and just a little too loud. Steve is starting to get used to the sound of it even though he’s only heard it twice.

Eddie’s laughter tapers off and he stops making his way toward the school to tilt his head at Steve for moment, obviously pondering something. Steve waits patiently if a little nervously for Eddie to figure out what he wants to say to him.

“Next time you want to talk to me, you can just ask me instead of trying to run me over,” He says and his tone is teasing enough that Steve doesn’t feel too terribly guilty about the words. “If it was a desperate bid for my attention then it was a waste, since you already had it anyway.”

And with that he smirks and turns on his heels. Steve watches him stroll towards the doors of the high school at a leisurely pace and knows that his face must be making a truly embarrassing expression that he is very glad no one is around to see.

Eddie reaches the doors and turns to give Steve little wave before slipping into the building.

Steve turns back to his car, still holding the first aid kit in his hands. He looks at the hood where Eddie had been sitting and wonders for a brief insane moment if the metal is still warm.

He shakes his head to clear it of whatever weirdness has taken over his mind. He yawns, sudden and wide and uses his free hand to rub at his eyes, his momentarily forgotten exhaustion returning even stronger after that whole ordeal. He thinks he’s due for a nap.

[unordinary-diary]

Blyke and John: Parallel Characters

I’ve written multiple entries about this,

[x] [x] [x]

But I’m back to make a comprehensive analysis about the glaring similarities between these two. I’ll try not to repeat myself here.

‼️SPOILER WARNING for the whole series‼️ but this mostly focuses on the story before John’s suspension.

Firstly, this scene:

ch. 121

This conversation takes place near the beginning of the Joker arc. It’s after John targets Zeke, after he targets Juni, and the day before he goes after Seraphina’s kidnappers. The timing is important.

“If someone hit your best friend, would you let it slide?”

That question is supposed to remind us what John does to people who hurt Seraphina: hunting them down and sending them to the hospital. Blyke shooting a destructive beam really close to John was an example of a trait they share: they both blow up violently when people mistreat their friends.

John’s downward spiral carries strong themes of hypocrisy. He’s angry at the world, he’s angry at himself, and as a coping mechanism, he chooses to believe that everyone else is as bad as he is. That means that most of the traits he hates others for are the same things he hates about himself. In this scene, Blyke is unintentionally calling out this hypocrisy: “What I did is no different from what you do”.

But Blyke’s just trying to connect with John here, he has no idea what John’s been doing. And John, of course, doesn’t give a shit about what Blyke has to say. This line was here for the audience to notice.

They’re both so similar, but their similarity immediately causes tension between them because, well, John was on the wrong end of Blyke’s protectiveness.

I really love the way this was written— there are so many flashbacks to this scene, but they remember it differently. John remembers the part that hurt him— he’d describe it as “the time that jackass shot a beam at me”. Blyke remembers the part that hurt him, or rather, hurt Remi: “the time that jackass hit Remi for no reason”.

Blyke and John are both hotheaded characters with strong ideals. They’re similar enough that Seraphina points it out:

(ch. 80)

As Blyke grows as a character, he becomes more like John: sticking up for low tiers and speaking out against the injustice in the world. But while Blyke is doing that more, John is going in the opposite direction, until they are fully opposed to each other.

Speaking of Blyke’s character arc, it took me a few rereads to actually understand what part of him changed. His kindness, selflessness, bravery— all of those things were there from the start. Blyke’s character arc was about becoming more aware of his surroundings, and how his carelessness can harm others. Blyke was never malicious, but after X-Rei and integrating more with the school, he becomes aware of people suffering around him and how he unintentionally contributes to it. He becomes less reckless, privy to the flaws in the system he grew up not questioning, and uses his power more responsibly. He even comes up with a more controlled way to wield his ability. The part of Blyke that changes is his maturity.

Part of John’s character arc is also about being careful. It’s not as close of a parallel as other things are, but one of the things that John works on during his redemption arc is holding back. Both of them learn self-control throughout the series, and for John, that means acting early before his emotions spiral out of hand.

Adding onto my first point about the two of them wanting to protect their friends— the fact that they can’t do that makes them both angry and desperate. For most of the story, the “block” that prevents John from protecting Seraphina is in his head. It’s his own trauma that holds him back. The block that prevents Blyke from protecting his friends is, guess what? Also John’s trauma! Parallels abound.

Another thing I noticed in Episode 80 is this:

Notice that when Seraphina says “I’d take that over strength any day,” John is looking at the camera. He’s avoiding Sera’s gaze. Seraphina is saying she prefers honesty over strength. John is very strong, and very dishonest, but Seraphina thinks the opposite because John is so dishonest. John appears to be reflecting on this disconnect.

In relation to this analysis, Seraphina is actually pointing out a major difference between Blyke and John. Beyond that, she’s praising Blyke’s traits, (less strong but very open) above John’s traits, (strong as fuck but a liar with his pants on fire). Furthermore, John really cares what Seraphina thinks of him. Knowing that she would think less of him is the main reason why he spent so much time and effort preventing her from catching his lies.

This leads into my main point here: Blyke is the “goody-two-shoes” version of John. Or, more accurately, the person that John wants to be. Blyke has a clean track record and doesn’t really get into trouble. He is respected and left alone by the school without being hated and feared, he de-escalates conflicts without taking things too far, he doesn’t lose control, he’s someone Seraphina thinks highly of, hell, even his grades are better! Blyke represents everything that John wants to be, and the person that he could have been if he’d gone down a different path.

But, crucially, John is also what Blyke wants to be. Well, not wholly, but his ability? His strength? It’s one of the things John hates about himself, but Blyke wants that strength so desperately that he risks his life for it over and over again.

They’re both desperate to be like each other, even when they hate each other the most. Neither of them have any idea how alike they already are.

I don’t know what Season 3 holds in store for us, but I do hope that John realizes that Blyke embodies who he wants to be, because mutual jealousy would be a very interesting dynamic to explore in my opinion. I also hope that it ends up being something they can bond over, by helping each other accomplish their personal goals. (Blyke being another helper in John’s character arc, and John helping Blyke train.)

A side note: John beat up Blyke four separate times. That’s more than any other character, which is interesting because John’s main rival is supposed to be Arlo. For reference, John has beaten Arlo twice, three times if you count the time when Seraphina intervened, and he only beat him unconscious once. But John beat Blyke to the point of passing out all four times, the worst of which being a shot clean through his chest. (shoulder? Unclear. S1 finale).

It’s odd, isn’t it? Out of everyone, Blyke is the one who John physically hurt the most. John’s only grudge against him is an old memory from episode 33, of an event that didn’t actually harm him. John’s grudge against Arlo is much more serious and again— that’s his main rival. So why is it that he’s so much more violent towards Blyke?

The problem here is that I’ve been thinking about these fights as “John picking on Blyke”. And that’s… kind of true? But while Blyke didn’t start any of these fights, they were all consensual in a way. He didn’t seek to fight John, nor was he ever happy about fighting John, but he was always a willing participant.

(138, 153, 206, & 211)

In three out of these four fights, John didn’t even expect to be fighting Blyke going into it. This is significant because while Arlo is John’s main rival, John absolutely fills that role for Blyke. Blyke’s own agency is what leads to most of these events. The reason, narratively speaking, why they fight so much is not for John’s character, but for Blyke.

For John, his reason for fighting Blyke so much is not narrative but moreso symbolic. John is angry at everyone and everything, but ultimately the person he hates the most is himself. It’s only fitting that the character most like him would bear the brunt of his wrath.

As John is having his positive character arc (suspension and post-suspension), he is becoming more like Blyke, and the two of them reach a point where they’re even more similar than they were at the start of the series.

In the Rowden amusement park, John does start to realize how similar they are:

(249)

Additionally, I want to draw your attention to the parallels between this scene:

Blyke and John’s argument in chapter 249

(which the image limit won’t let me add, scroll until you see red hair.)

And this scene:

Argument in ch. 121 (it’s at the beginning)

Two sides of the same coin.

Furthermore, in the S2 finale, Blyke is shown being taken to Keon. There is an implication that by Season 3, Blyke and John will share Keon-related trauma as well. Despite my pessimistic predictions, I do hope that this is a similarity that can bring them together rather than tear them apart.

[rainiishowers]

May I please ask for Mammon angst please, where he went missing for years and when the bros find him he has family but when his family ask if he knows them he says no he never meet them please

Summary: After searching for the Avatar of Greed for years, the brothers find out where Mammon is, but something unexpected greets them.. Genre: Angst -----

Mammon often ran away from home only to be back not long after. The only time him doing this was remotely worrying when it had been a few days, with him only coming back because he lost his DDD charger.  However, one night, after a huge fight, Mammon swore to his brothers that he would leave and never return, but at the time the brothers took it as a joke. Next day, Beel went to Mammon’s room, only to find out that some of his older brother’s belongings were missing. Obviously, he went to tell the others, and no one besides Belphie believed Beel until they went to see for themselves.  Lucifer messaged Diavolo and Barbatos, asking if they’ve seen or heard from Mammon, but they didn’t. When he messaged the Purgatory Hall Trio, they say they haven’t either. 

Now, it’s been years since the Avatar of Greed left and everyone was handling it in different ways, but it was safe to say that the family crumbled somewhat.  It was a surprise when Satan called a house meeting saying it was urgent. When everyone did get to the living room, Satan made the announcement. “Solomon had informed me that a friend of his found someone that very much resembled Mammon up in the human world.” There were many reactions, ones of worry for Mammon and confusion to why he would be in the human world. Lucifer calmed everyone down before turning to the blond.  “Do you have any other information?” “There is a rough idea of where he’s staying now, but it doesn’t seem to be an apartment neighborhood.” “Suppose he’s renting a house?” Asmo suggests.  “Or he found a new family.” Belphie mutters, distaste in his voice. Clearly, no one liked that thought, as there was a minute of silence before Lucifer cleared his throat. “Satan, ask Solomon for the specifics.” “Already did.” Satan pulls out his DDD. “Good. Let’s get going than.” ---- Now in the human world, in the apartment neighborhood Solomon’s friend has supposedly marked down where Mammon lived. Well, the brothers still didn’t know if this was a Mammon lookalike or actually him, but they were all very desperate to bring him back to the Devildom. Satan was taking the lead, with Asmo beside him and Levi not too far behind. The twins were stalling behind but still in front of Lucifer, who was keeping an eye on his brothers.  What had him confused was why Mammon actually meant the whole “not coming back” thing, and for years at that! “You guys, look!!” Lucifer looks up at where Levi was pointing, and there he was.. That familiar head of white hair and tan skin, outside a house with a much younger girl.  “Who is that?” Belphie asks. No one had an answer, but as they all got closer, two other, much more older looking people came out. As Mammon goes to greet them, he notices the brothers out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, the brothers, aside from Lucifer, all ran to meet up with him, forcing Lucifer to give chase.  Mammon notices the brothers running over and his face hardened, but before he could tell the three to get inside, they caught up. “Mammon! There you are!” The young girl looks up at him, tilting her head and the older two walk over. “Mams, do you know them?” The young girl pointed at the brothers. Mammon cut off any of them saying anything.  “No, I don’t.” The brothers stood in shock as the former brother told them he’ll handle these people and to get ready for movie night in the backyard. When the three left, Mammon turned to them, a wrath filled gaze. “What the fuck are you doing here?!” He yells, something very uncharacteristic of him. He would never yell at the brothers with such a hateful look..  Satan steps forward, taking responsibility for this.  “Solomon’s friend found you, and we thought we could come to patch things up.” Mammon lets out a humorless laugh, full of bitterness.  “There is nothing to patch up. It’s been years.” “But we never stopped looking for you!” Levi steps forward. “Well congratulations, you found me.” Mammon retorts. “But now, you lot are nothing but strangers to me.” That was that.  Mammon walks off, ending the conversation there. They all stood paralyzed by the situation of what just happened. Until Lucifer clears his throat. “Let’s go home.. We can’t convince him to come back.”

[venerated3zun]

Hey $50 official untamed artbook, are you sure those are Lan Sizhui's other names? Are you really sure?

[seth-burroughs]

I think we as a fandom don't talk enough about how Seth:

Took bribes from the Nail Man, a serial killer in exchange for allowing him to keep murdering people -- said killer ended up killing 3 people (while they were 4 victims, one of them belonged to the copycat) in the span of 6 months(?). But I'm able to excuse everything the Priest has done, free my man, however...

It was rather strongly implied he (and the other peacekeepers affiliated) had a hand in the whole "Jiei being called to the Clocktower for a quote unquote emergency" trap, picking an innocent man to frame as the Nail Man and either put him on death row or in prison for life, so they could sweep the case under the rug and be done with it.

EXCEPT. After his arrest, he says this: "To speed this case along, we need to quickly deal with that Nail Man we arrested. We should even consider... a public execution."

WHAT are saying

In what time are we living. Is this the medieval ages. Is this the 1400s. This has to be one of the most barbaric sentences I heard a peacekeeper say in Master Detective Archives: Rain Code by Spike Chunsoft. Can he even do that? Would Yomi allow this

He just picked a random man, and didn't even want to lethal injection him privately, he was preparing the damn scaffold so that he could subject the whole district to his legendary beef with that guy in particular, because fuck him I guess. Was that personal? Did Jiei drive his mother of a cliff before the story and this is his carefully planned revenge after decades of suffering in silence

There was LITERALLY NO REASON for him to do this. It was not securing his Evil Plan, not anymore convenient than a private execution, or anything. It was simply Seth's whimsical urge of getting to fulfill his Monokuma fantasy after all these years of severe disrespect

Conclusion: that guy was OUT for BLOOD the sheer MALICE evident in his gay little eyes easily matches Yomi Hellsmile and they should fight to the death for the title of Kanai Ward's Top Cunt

[enjamin-the-benitor]

GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE I AM FEELING A LOT OF EMOTIONS AT A RAPID RATE

[gigglingsoftly]

Sorry but a can you do lee!Cartman and ler!stan, kyle, and Kenny? Sorry if this is confusing, I love your fics and I’m sorry I requested this, I really love him😭😭

-One of your fans❤️

Awww nonnie you are literally soooo sweet. And it’s fine literally ask for all the Cartman tickles you want. I will always deliver! I hope you like it!

Also I had no clue how to write Kenny’s muffles so next time 😭

Not Ticklish

Word Count: 609

Lee!Cartman/Ler!Stan, Ler!Kyle, Ler!Kenny

Cartman claims he isn’t ticklish but like we all know that’s a lie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys were hanging out at Stan’s house. They were in the living room watching Terrance and Phillip. Or at least they were trying to watch Terrence and Phillip. Stan and Kyle were play-fighting and tickling each other as per usual.

And at this point Cartman was used to it. He had gotten pretty good at tuning them and their gay ass antics out. But this was the last straw. He couldn’t hear the television over their stupid giggling and laughing.

“I’m so glad I’m not a ticklish little pussy like you guys,” The bigger boy muttered scooting closer to the TV.

At this point Kenny and Cartman had decided to sit on the floor since the other two boys were taking up the couch with their antics.

“Shut up fatass,” Kyle retorted.

Honestly, he was surprised they could fucking hear because he couldn’t.

“Yeah everyone is ticklish,” Stan said matter of factly.

“Not me,” Cartman replied, rolling his eyes.

“Okay, prove it. Me and Kyle do this all the time. Keep your arms up and if you really aren’t ticklish then you won’t laugh or anything,” The raven haired boy challenged.

“Maybe that’s how you super boyfriends or whatever the fuck you call yourselves like to spend your time but not me.” The brunette shot back.

“Dude if you aren’t ticklish then it shouldn’t matter!” Kenny added, taking his attention off the television.

“No…it’s okay guys. He’s probably lying anyway,” Stan concluded in annoyance. The other two boys nodded in agreement. They were going to just drop it and go back to watching TV.

“I am not!” Cartman wouldn’t necessarily count it as lying. His mom tickled him a little before but at most he squirmed away a little bit. It was nowhere near the reaction he’s seen his friends give to being tickled. So he was sure he had this little “challenge” in the bag.

“Okay fatass, then put your arms up!” Kyle responded.

“Fine but this is super gay,” Cartman grumbled walking on his knees toward the couch and lifting his arms.

Stan shot his fingers into the larger boy’s underarms and started scribbling. This caused Cartman to squeal and immediately try to retreat.

“See! I knew he was lying! Guys don’t let him escape! Grab his arms!” Stan shouted.

The two other boys immediately sprang to action to not let the brunette escape, holding him in place . They couldn’t… scratch that…they wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to put Cartman in his place.

This was way more than he expected. This was what those two were willingly doing to each other on a regular basis. He felt like he was being tortured. This was awful. He needed this to stop now.

“Okahahay, yohohou guhuhuys wihihin! Gehehet ohohohff alreheheheady!” The bigger boy demanded. He hated to admit defeat so early but what the actual fuck? He never experienced anything like this.

“Dude! Stan barely even tickled you!” The blond chuckled.

“Yeah, we finally found someone who’s more ticklish than me,” Kyle teased.

“Trust me. No one is more ticklish than you,” Stan said, not stopping the tickle attack.

The redhead growled playfully before pouncing on his best friend resuming their play fighting from before.

Normally this is when Cartman would tease them for how gay they are but honestly he was glad they turned their attention back on each other. He sat back up still trying to stop the residual giggles that were threatening to slip out.

“What was that you were saying again about not being ticklish?” Kenny teased. Cartman couldn’t see it but he definitely knew that the blond was wearing a shit eating grin.

“Shut up, Kenny!”