#shout out to to that one person who saw my thing labels and used cat gifs the reblogs

[francicide]

hey btw i read all the little comments and notes in the reblog of my posts . and i love all of them . so much . those silly like words make me super happy i get excited when i see people reblogging thank u guys . u all are silly goobers and super cool 🙏🙏🤍

[allwaswell16]

A fic rec of One Direction fics that involve characters using sign language as requested in this ask. You can find my other fic recs here. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

💜 All About Us by LHStylinson

(G, 137k, kid fic) Throughout the night and protests from their daughter, Louis and Harry reminisce about how they met and overtime share their story with the boy that seems to look at their daughter the same way Louis once and still looks at Harry.

💜 All Your Dreams Are On Their Way by @1diamondinthesun

(NR, 73k, Caribbean) Louis Tomlinson is a grieving author with a deadline. Harry Styles is afraid to realize his potential. The Caribbean is the perfect place to dream bigger.

💜 Shout It From The Rooftops by therogueskimo / @bravetemptation

(M, 70k, PTSD) Plagued by memories of the worst day of his life, Louis Tomlinson feels like he’s constantly living in darkness. Harry Styles might just be the person to bring him back to the light.

💜 Dog got your Tongue? by seducedbycurls

(NR, 50k, dog walker Louis) Person a spills coffee on person b when they trip AU

💜 Two Hearts Drawn Together by Chelsea Frew / @chelsea-frew

(E, 46k, famous/not famous) Louis Tomlinson is 1/3 of a world-famous boy band. Harry Styles is a deaf university student. When they meet each other at a book signing, they experience an instant connection.

💜 It Feels Different When You’re With Me by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 45k, deaf Louis) Harry fell in love with sign language as a kid. He never imagined the first love of his life would lead him straight to his second.

💜 You Came Just Like A Flower In My Darkest Hour by graceling_in_a_suit

(T, 44k, fantasy) Harry had spent a thousand years as the king of a false kingdom, no one but his empty-minded subjects to distract him from his loneliness. Then, he saw a stranger in a mirror to another world. 

💜 Quiet People Have the Loudest Minds by @2tiedships2

(M, 38k, omegaverse) the one where Louis is a nonverbal omega who has accepted the fact that he will never find an alpha that will treat him as an equal. On the other hand, he’s never met anyone like Harry.

💜 Stargazer Louis by thecheshirepussycat / @the-cheshire-pussy-cat

(T, 36k, high school) Louis has been deaf ever since a he was a little kid. Some of his only comforts now are the colors and fragrances of flowers. Harry could care less about flowers and prefers the beautiful melodies of his music. 

💜 A Life Turned Upside Down by Chelsea Frew /  @chelsea-frew

(E, 29k, exes) Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson were madly in love from the moment they met. Their contracts would not, however, allow them to publicly announce their love. Forced to take part in stunts, they persevered. Until one stunt became too much, and Harry left.

💜 Is it a sign? by bluegreenish / @greenblueish

(E, 25k, omegaverse)  the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

💜 Whipped Cream by @writingstylinson

(T, 24k, pining) Harry is a deaf photographer in charge of taking Lottie's wedding pictures. Louis is determined for Harry to be his plus one.

💜 Don't Act Like It's a Bad Thing to Fall in Love by nightwideopen / @themarshalstale

(G, 23k, high school) Louis was born blind, completely blind, leaving him with nothing but the absolute blackness that his lack of vision produces. Harry, on the other hand, is deaf. No sound can be registered by the two tiny ears his rowdy, chocolate curls obscure so well.

💜 Never Too Late by dimpled_halo / @comebackassholes

(M, 18k, kid fic) Just having come out of the closet and recovering from vocal surgery, famous recording artist Harry Styles needs to get away from LA to work on new music needing to prove to his label that his career isn't over.

💜 Worth a Thousand Words by TheIfInLife / @larryismyotpuniverse

(NR, 7k, high school) Harry went deaf at 5 years old and Louis just wants the chance be heard.

💜 Fingers Crossed by Moriartied

(T, 5k, uni) Harry's been deaf since he was born. Louis is newly graduated after studying sign language, and Harry hires him to translate for all the classes he'll be attending.

💜 The power of Silence by WordsOfHeart

(T, 1k, mpreg) an AU where Harry is mute and pregnant and Louis is the best boyfriend he could possibly be.

💜 My Hands, Your Hands by croisblue / @forwhatiam

(G, 1k, canon divergence) It was something of a joke within Louis’ fandom that he never carried his own luggage. The theories were never too serious, mostly leaning towards him being too much of a princess to do it himself.

- Rare Pairs -

💜 say it out loud by ieatravioli

(M, 25k, Zayn/Liam) Liam has a younger sister who is deaf and he meets Zayn; an alumni from his sister's school. Zayn has just found out that he's qualified to receive a Cochlear implant and decides to go through with the procedure.

💜 Whiteboard by lostinsanity

(T, 5k, Zayn/Niall) Niall’s a musician, Zayn’s an artist. Music and art are their lives, respectively. And the story shouldn't be much more complicated from there. But it is, because Zayn is deaf.

[r0semaryt3a]

Sk8 identity headcannons so I have something to put on my Masterlist!

Reki Kyan

He/him

Bisexual (male pref but doesn’t label it)

Didn’t actually know that being bi existed for years, he always thought he’d lose attraction for one of them when he grew up.

It was Joe who really hammered home “you’re allowed to like both!?” And the lad’s been loud and proud ever since

Langa Hasegawa

He/they

Homosexual

Nanako and Oliver are 100% bi4bi so this guy was raised with full support.

He’s never been particularly picky on what people use for them so if someone does just choose to stick to one set of pronouns he probably won’t correct them

Is the only one out of the kid trio to have had a boyfriend (or any relationship) and have it last longer than one month

Miya Chinen

He/they

Pansexual

He was scared to come out to his parents but after he did they were very supportive and did that cheesy parent thing of buying him a bunch of pan flag stuff

One of these pan flag things was a cat shaped sticker that he has stuck to his phone case

He’ll never admit it but he really appreciated that shopping day out with his mum and dad

Hiromi Higa/Shadow

They/them

Likes women

They are incredibly forward about their identity and flaunt the nb flag in their S outfit even having a series of firecrackers in the flag’s colours

Kojiro Nanjo/Joe

He/him

Bisexual (this one is pretty much cannon)

Has a preference for effeminate people. Not in like a preference for women way but in a he’ll date anyone but if you look effeminate or androgynous your chances skyrocket

Supportive grandma (doesn’t speak to the rest of his family much)

Despite his front of talking around and flirting with mainly anyone he sees. He’s never actually had a one night stand and has even dated some of the people he’s flirted with (the relationships lasted surprisingly long)

Kaoru sakurayashiki/Cherry

He/him

Homosexual

Has two mums (through adoption)

There’s nothing really special about how he fronts his identity or came to understand it but he does have some funny stories

Once a female coworker was subtly hinting to liking him and the signs just flew over his head to the point it took her asking him on an date for him to realise (he rejected her ‘gently’)

After this fiasco he actually wrote “fall in love with yourself first” in the colours of the gay flag on his office wall

Another story comes from when he had a boyfriend in school, they were sat on the roof drinking when one of his mothers came out and saw them. His boyfriend started freaking out scared she was homophobic when she shouted “honey come look at this!” In actuality another woman came out the house and they gave Kaoru an earful on drinking whilst in school

His poor boyfriend was so panicked

Ainosuke Shindo/Adam

She/they/he

Adam does not care how they are seen, though she tends to prefer effeminate pronouns (but mainly used whilst in S due to their aunts) it’s a place that she can be whoever she wants without him having to worry about the public eye

Him finding out about the fact she likes to be seen as She/the/he was actually due to a slip up on Tadashi’s part when he accidentally referred to Adam as ma’am and it just set something off in them

Bisexual (male pref)

Adam honestly only really cares if a person is loyal, will stand beside him and can indulge in her hobbies but still tends to gravitate towards men

His aunts don’t know

His relationship with Kaoru in high school was actually rather sweet up until it ended

Tadashi Kikuchi/Snake

He/it

Homosexual

His dad was also gay and his mother was a lesbian (they got together as a sort of “we’ll date publicly and can see our actual partners in secret”)

Found out he was gay when he got with a girl and was sick when he got home over the mere thought of it (he’s still good friends with her to this day though)

Kiriko Kamata

She/her

Lesbian

Once thought she was bi (was surprisingly because of how obsessed she was with the Shindo case) but quickly realised it was indeed just a professional fixation

Has a girlfriend who’s currently in Tokyo

Is fantastic at romance advice

Was the lesbian/bi awakening of several of her female coworkers

Oka Shokichi

He/him

Aromantic - falls into the demi category

Nothing much else to add he’s rather vanilla

[thran-duils]

Lost in Zero Gravity (P.21)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twenty One) Summary:  Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers.  Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 3,051 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior, drug use

Part Twenty || Part Twenty Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

“What the hell happened?” Rhodey demanded after a few moments of awkward silence after Steve had stormed out.

Happy had closed the door after Steve, also looking at Tony now with expectation for an answer.

“Nothing,” Tony said aggressively, pushing the reactor and the suit began retracting.

“Nothing? You don’t get to cause that uproar here in the facility and then not give any of us an answer—” Rhodey started to argue.

“Who’s in charge here?” Tony interrupted him shortly.

Rhodey shook his head, “Tony, that’s not fair. And you know it.”

“Life isn’t fair,” Tony quipped, walking over to his desk to snatch up his phone. He began texting quickly.

“If something is going on between you two, the rest of the team deserves to know! Especially since you’re pulling the ‘who is in charge’ card. That’s the two of you!” Rhodey said. “You manage a lot of people and factions are not what the operation needs to function properly.” He stepped closer and continued, “It’s her isn’t it? Heard pregnancy test and that’s not hard to deduce why both of you would be concerned about that.”

Tony was scrolling through his phone, not answering Rhodey.

Irked, Rhodey pressed, “I don’t know why the two of you thought sharing was going to work out. You are both hardheaded, sons of—”

“Rhodey, if you’re going to continue nagging at me like an old lady, please just leave. I’m busy,” Tony interjected again, distracted still.

“No! You need to be open!” Rhodey shouted, finally fully catching Tony’s attention. Happy rose his brows in surprise at his boldness. “You two just almost plummeted each other.”

Tony ground his teeth, staring Rhodey down. Exhaling sharply, he finally said, “Fine. Yes. You’re right. Her. And you know, everything was going fine before Steve started having his martial problems. And he started playing fast and loose with Y/N’s safety. He brought her on a mission a couple of days ago – with Bucky and Sam, mind you, so they’re also on my shit list – using her as a pawn and she had no idea what was going on. He left her on a boat with Qian and Perez. Got her caught it the middle of the crossfire, so that was a fun clean up job for me.” That was shock to Rhodey and Happy, both of them caught off guard. “So, yeah, I’m a little fucking piqued, you could say. He’s spiraling because of things at home.” He paused for a beat before sighing, “And he was fucking with her birth control. So, hey, I might be a dad. Again. Even if I didn’t want that.”

Tony all but collapsed into his chair behind his desk, tossing his phone down on the desk. “I don’t know if I should move her. I told him to stay away, and he lured me away and snuck in there and took her. He has a key.”

Rhodey was silent for the first time in the conversation but Happy offered, “It might be for the best.” Tony turned his attention to him and Happy continued, “If you are really worried about it. Removing temptation… sometimes that is the best medicine.”

<><><>

“Let’s go,” Steve said shortly, coming into the locker room. He threw open his locker and reached inside for the freshly washed uniform.

“What the hell happened?” Sam demanded, seeing how disheveled Steve was. He was fresh out of the shower after having done an intense work out.

“Nothing. I’m gonna get suited up and start working. Are you going to join?”

“What do you mean ‘nothing’? Your chin is cut up and—”

Steve barked, shutting Sam up, “I said nothing happened, Sam!” He tossed his suit on the bench behind him and began working at the buttons on his three piece to get undressed.

Sam stood up, gripping at the towel around his waist, staring Steve down. He glared as Steve tossed his suit jacket onto the bench and ripped his tie off. Steve noticed his glare and his hands began to falter under the intensity until they slowly fell. His dress shirt was unbuttoned, and his belt undone.

Evenly, Sam asked, “What happened? What is going on?”

Steve sighed heavily, his hands coming to his hips, head hanging. He was quiet for a few moments, breathing deeply. His voice was quiet when he admitted, “Tony and I got into it. Badly. Right in his office. I… he pissed me off and I just saw red. He hit where he shouldn’t have and he did it on purpose to get a rise out of me. And I fell for it. Like a fucking idiot.” He rubbed at his face. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Take a step back.”

“It’s not as easy as that, Sam!”

“I mean from work. Take some time. You don’t need to throw yourself into this just to escape whatever is happening. Take a step back from work and focus on the shit in your personal life.”

Steve chewed on his lip before saying quietly, “You’re right.” He nodded this time and repeated, “You’re right. I… I need…”

Sam cut in, picking up his slack. “You need to do what’s best for you and your wife. That’s what’s important.”

Steve nodded again. Sam was not privy to his relationship with Y/N. All he knew was she was a prostitute that Steve visited sometimes. But he was right on one thing; he did want his relationship better with his wife. And right now, that was something that was going to be easier to control than his relationship with Y/N.

<><><>

Sitting at the table, eating lunch, you heard voices outside the hall coming closer and you put your fork down. The front door opened, and Tony walked in, followed by a handful of men. Luna booked it from her cat tower down the hallway towards the bedroom at the crowd. You stared at them confused as Tony was giving them directions about what to pack together. You spotted a few bringing in copious amounts of broken down moving boxes, carrying packing tape.

“Bedroom things first. That’s the most important. She needs somewhere to sleep obviously. The bed is easily broken down. The tools for it… I think are in the top drawer of the nightstand on the far side of the bed by the window. I made sure it would be nearby,” Tony was telling a few of them. He had failed to look or notice you at the table, sitting there bewildered. “I saw the cat run down there, so close the door when you go in. She’ll probably run into the closet if she’s under the bed. I just want her corralled and out of the way of everyone else. Do not – and I repeat, do NOT – let her out! We’ll get her into the cat carrier after everything is packed up. And you all are in charge of making sure that bed is ready to go at the new condo.”

New condo?

He turned towards a few more of them and said, “Start breaking down the living room.” To the last couple, he said, “The bathroom. Be sure to properly label everything.”

Tony finally laid eyes on you and walked over to the kitchen table, pulling out his cell phone. “How are you doing, love?”

“How am I… what is happening?” you inquired.

“You’re moving,” Tony informed you, texting.

The men were already setting to work, and you moved your gaze around the apartment in disbelief. Who were these guys and what in the actual fuck was going on?

“Why?” you asked confused.

“Because. I found somewhere better priced.”

“Where?”

“Carnegie Hill.”

That was his neighborhood. He had told you that before, to your immense surprise, giving away his home location. But he had – as you suspected – started trusting you more in recent months. Why was he moving you closer to his family? And especially in that neighborhood? Cheaper? You were hard pressed to believe that bald-faced lie.

“You found something cheaper there than this?” you asked him, completely disbelieving.

“Yep,” Tony told you curtly, still not looking up from his phone. “A nice condo. Nice dropped living room and dining room. Iron work looks great.” You were staring at him intensely as he clicked away on his phone. He felt the burn of your stare and looked up. “What?”

Exasperated you threw your hands out, “What… Tony! I’m just sitting here eating lunch and all these people are in here now and just packing up my stuff! And you’re telling me I’m moving!”

Tony exhaled sharply, tossing his phone onto the table as he pulled out a chair beside you and sat down. Leaning in close he said, “You’re moving closer to me. It’s easier.”

“Easier?”

“Better,” he offered.

“Why? So I can run into your wife into one of the coffee shops and she can maul my face there?”

Tony’s expression was hard, and you really could not give a shit less. You had already told him how you felt about being in close proximity with her.

“First off, Alessia does not go get her own coffee. She sends people for that, Or she has the maid make it for her in her French press. Hell would freeze over the day she was asked to stand in a line and agree to it,” Tony started out, his tone tight. “And secondly, only I will have a key to the place.”

Reality set in on what he was doing. He was leaving Steve out. Did Steve even know this was going on? The memory of Tony last night telling you that he loved you outright flashed through your mind. He had been furious when he had learned what Steve had done to you. A wedge had been driven between them at your expense.

“So, yes, easier. And better,” Tony clipped, leaning away from you again, keeping his gaze fixated on you for a few more moments before tearing it away. He picked up his phone again and unlocked it. “Finish your lunch. You don’t have to lift a finger for this. They’ve got it covered. All we gotta do is get Luna into a carrier. And that’ll be easy, right?”

You were at a loss for words. What if Steve came looking for you? How angry was he going to be when he realized that you were no longer here? And would he think it was you that had asked Tony to move you? You had so many questions.

Tony picked up your fork and held it out to you. “Eat, love. Just relax. I’ve got it covered.”

Timidly, you reached out and took the fork from him, and he visibly relaxed of the tension in his body. You stuck your fork into your rice and took a bite, watching the men working warily.

<><><>

Steve kissed up Cecile’s abdomen, his trail leading between her breasts and up to her lips. She smiled against his lips as he entered her slowly. They rocked together in tandem, coming down together. Steve held her close and whispered in her ear, “Let’s take a few days. You and me. Maine?”

“Seclusion is always nice,” Cecile told him, pecking him on the nose, causing Steve to smile.

“Right on the sea?” Steve questioned, holding her close, cognizant of her swollen abdomen.

Cecile traced his face and said, “You know what I like.”

“That I do,” Steve returned softly. He kissed her deep and relished in feeling like they were truly close again.

<><><>

You had just gotten out of the shower to wash the chlorine off of you. One of the perks of the new condo was the pool. You enjoyed doing laps and the hot tub afterward. Sitting in a robe, you picked up the remote and turned on the TV. Choosing a show, you unwrapped the popsicle you had taken out of the fridge.

The familiar sound of the key in the door echoed and you did not bother to move, knowing the only one who would be coming in was Tony. You had been here for a week and had finished rearranging all of your things in the new layout a couple days ago. Thankfully, Luna had adjusted and loved the window beds on the large windows, giving her access to watch out over the street.

He was dressed down – unusual for him. And he looked nervous, and you were on edge immediately just as you had been when he had looked that way sitting in the living room when you had come home from the gym.

“What?” you asked him reluctantly.

He said nothing. He held a bag out to you, and you stared at him for a moment before you opened it, peaking in.

Your stomach dropped, seeing another pregnancy test.

“Why are you making me do this? For real this time?” you asked him seriously.

He licked his lips and sat down stiffly on the opposite end of the couch. He was refusing to look at you, his elbows resting on his thighs, hands clasped. “I… you need to do it.”

“Why?” you pressed.

“Because. You… you might be pregnant.”

Shaking your head, you told him, “I already took a test. Less than two weeks ago!”

“Have you missed a period?”

“I rarely bleed,” you countered.

“That makes it even more important that you take the test then.”

“Why are you so concerned about this?”

Tony exhaled sharply, hanging his head. He was silent for a few moments, the suspension in the room thick. His voice was brittle, “You weren’t protected. For over a month. December and January, respectfully, between the two.”

You gaped at him. Stammering, you asked, “W-what are you talking about?”

He looked resistant to speak but he shook his head, “Steve.”

“Steve, what?” you asked dangerously.

“He told me at the beginning of January that he had been fucking around with your birth control. Giving you placebos.”

You felt like you had been kicked. Your fingers grasped tighter onto the paper back, it crinkling in your hand. The silence in the room was deafening; Tony refusing to look at you made it even worse.

If what he was saying was true, Steve had betrayed you beyond belief. You had thought his actions at the docks were the lowest he could go but apparently, he was determined to prove you wrong. And for what? To lock you down further?

“Why?” you rasped.

Tony shrugged, “I don’t know. Really. He… he’s having problems. At home, with his wife, I mean.”

“And? Getting me pregnant was going to solve that?”

“No,” Tony gave a dry laugh, shaking his head. “No, it wouldn’t have solved it. He’s… he’s not thinking straight. That has been made noticeably clear.”

“You knew?” you asked quietly. And he finally looked at you, shame etched into his features. “When you asked me to take the first test?”

His answer hit you like a ton of bricks. “Yeah, I did.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” you asked breathlessly.

“You… you were negative. And I was just going to let it rest and move on. No purpose of drawing up drama when it didn’t need to be drawn up.”

“I trusted you,” you half gasped, getting up from the couch.

Tony followed your movement, half stumbling around the opposite side of the couch to chase after you as you clutched the bag close to your chest. He quickly dove into excuses, “I mean it when I said I thought it should stay buried. As long as it was okay. To save you from that stress. And I thought Steve could get his head on straight. But then he went and proved me fucking wrong. So wrong. And that’s why I moved you. He doesn’t know where you are. I’m not going to let him around you. Not until he can prove he has himself set straight again. And if that never happens, then you don’t have to see him again!”

He sounded so desperate for you to forgive him, thank him for what he was doing.

Swallowing sharply, you put up a wall. Coldly, you told him, “I have to go do this.” You tapped the bag. “You know… something I didn’t want to have to do. Ever. But here I am forced again by controlling men to do shit against my will.”

Tony looked wounded by that, and you ignored it, turning on your heel, storming down the hallway. You gritted your teeth. You were going to do your damndest to not cry.

<><><>

It had been over ten minutes since Y/N had locked the bathroom door before he finally heard something.

Tony was leaning on the wall outside and he heard her stifle a sob. His eyes closed, exhaling deeply. He pushed away from the wall and his hand came to the door handle of the door, but he hesitated. His hand fell from the handle, deciding to give her space, and he walked away back towards the living room, his hand coming up to rub at his face, distressed.

Yes, it was going to be easier having her close by pregnant to watch over, he thought to himself.

Regardless of if it was his or not.

<><><>

Daryl or Eric were not in the lobby, causing Steve to frown. Were they upstairs? He got into the elevator, a bad feeling swirling in his gut.

He exited the elevator, holding the envelope to Y/N’s favorite local boutique close to him. He meant to just slide it underneath the door to avoid pissing Tony off even further but to still connect to her. Extend an olive branch and slowly apologize, getting himself back to her good graces.

He stopped though, seeing Terrence or Wylan were not there at the hallway’s end. Worry was beginning to seep in deep at the fact both sets of men were not where they were supposed to be.

Picking up his pace, Steve moved to her apartment door and his heart hammered seeing the keylock on her door instead of a deadbolt. That meant she had moved, and the apartment was empty.

His jaw set, fury burning its way through him.

Tony, that son of a bitch.

~~~

Forever tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld

Fic tags: @icant-hangout-imdrumming @oceaniamaddness @multifandom-superlover @imsonick @holl2712 @here4thefanfics @agustdowney @fanofalltheficsx @buttercandy16 @last-saturday-night

[natewrightt]

Hello, could you write a fluff Five x reader where they got married in secret while in the 60s and the siblings realize after seeing the couple being cute together and they think it's adorable how in love Five is ?

Please, love ur blog 😊💖

 Summary: Five Hargreeves enjoyed the sixties a lot more then he originally thought he would.

Ship: Five Hargreeves x criminal!reader

Warnings: none

Note: I added so many details because I love this concept LMAO. also I don’t know how I would be able to make them married because he’s in a 13 year old body??? but yeah I tried djddoidjkijsds 💖

“Hey, stop right there!” the cashier of Manny’s Groceries shouted, grabbing everybody’s attention.

But she didn’t stop.

She turned around and flipped the worker off, then ran faster out of the scene and she completely disappeared by the time the police had arrived. And besides, they didn’t have much to go by. The girl was wearing a large hoodie with leggings and converse. It was pointless.

That girl was none other then Y/N L/N, a 13 year old ‘criminal’ who lived on the main floor of an apartment building without anyone knowing. However, mentally, she was 60. A long time ago, her body was frozen by her parents because the girl suffered from a sickness that didn’t have a cure. Just recently she was unfrozen and given the cure, but her parents had died and now she’s all alone, stealing from stores just to survive. 

Y/N arrived in the apartment building and practically collapsed to the ground from exhaustion. Looking through the bag, she was relieved to find her favorite item: waffles. She would eat those delicious things if they were stepped on by the worlds dirtiest pair of boots. The starving girl stuffed about 3 in her mouth, being sure to swallow it down with a water bottle she had found on the ground outside. It wasn’t the best life to live, but it certainly wasn’t the worst.

She gazed at the clock on the wall. Shit! Y/N was going to be late. Getting up and running towards Elliot Gussman’s door, she was surprised to see that it was open. That paranoid man always locked his door.

You could say that Y/N was Elliot’s friend, or you could say that she was really interested in his crazy theories he makes up. Either way, it’s still fun.

“Elliot?” she called, holding the box of waffles like it was a weapon. The ruffling noise in the room had got quiet, and Y/N gulped. “Hey, if it’s not a good time, then-”

Suddenly, a boy that appeared her age was in front of her in a flash of blue. She was so taken aback that she fell over. However, she caught herself and the boy furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly impressed.

“Do you know Elliot?” He asked, weary of her every move. She scoffed, deciding to be sarcastic towards him.

“No, I just happened to walk into the room calling Elliot. Elliot as in my dead cat. Have you seen him, by the way? He’s ab-”

He covered her mouth with his hand, rolling his eyes. Y/N was prepared though, and quickly bit down causing the boy to scream curses, letting go. She ran to Elliot.

“You okay? What happened? Did he hurt you?” She asks frantically, checking for injuries. Y/N would never let the only person who treated her with respect get hurt. 

“No, It’s fine. We’re fine.” He responds in a panicked voice. Too panicked. She looks back at the boy who’s smirking at her.

“Yeah. Let the adults talk, okay princess?”

- 

The 3 of them sat in Elliot’s living room. He was explaining his theories to the boy (named Five, out of all the names to exist) and he was very interested in the theories Elliot was talking about, except he actually believed them. One them being how the man saw people come out of ‘black holes’ in the exact same spot at different time periods. He was SO interested, in fact, that he offered to look for them.

That made Y/N suspicious.

Very suspicious.



After some very serious research (stalking) she had come to a conclusion that Five Hargreeves was from 2019 and he accidentally teleported his family to different parts of 1963 and were now determind to get back to their original home. It intruiged her a lot if she was being completly honest. Luckily, Elliot had eventually made a little room for her to stay in and Five was often there. So, her and Elliot were officially “part of the gang” as some people would put it.

After some time, Five and her got along REALLY well. They were both incredibly smart (and both mentally the same age but that was past the point) and had the same hobbies and interests. It wasn’t long before a relationship had started.

Well, it wasn’t labeled. And they certainly weren’t friends. Friends don’t share secret kisses and hold hands under the table.

And they thought that they could keep it secret.

And for awhile, they did.

-

Luther and Diego entered the house to find a dead Elliot on a chair. They were both very saddened by this, but it quickly turned into concern when the two of them couldn’t find Y/N anywhere.

She was always with him.

So you can only imagine the panicked state Five was in when he came in.

“What do you MEAN you don’t know where she is?!” He seethed, looking around. “How is she not with him? She’s ALWAYS with him!”

“Five, I’m sure we’ll find her-”

“Your reassurance is useless. I’LL find her, not you imbeciles. Now do us all a favor and stay here and...behave please. I’ll be back whenever.” And with that being said he teleported away.

-

In honesty, Five wasn’t that worried. He knew exactly where she was. It was a hiding spot she would go to whenever she felt sad or nervous. He went there immediatley to find her in the fetal position in the corner, crying and covered with Elliot’s blood.



“Y/N?” He asked weakly. She looked at him.

“He’s dead, isn’t he?” Her voice broke. Five couldn’t bare to do anything but nod sadly, looking away. 

“It’s my fault.” She muttered, barely audible for him to hear. “I...I watched them, Five. I watched 3 guys beat the absolute shit out of him...I did nothing. I just ran! Like an idiot! He would be alive if I had just been there! Bu-”

Then Five did something that she (and he) never thought he would do.

He wrapped his arms around her torso and hugged her.

For the most part, Five wasn’t an affectionate person. The only thing he would allow were small touches on the hand if he was scared (which wasn’t often) and pecks on the lips if he was really feeling it.

It took her by surprise, but she melted into it, letting tears fall into his shoulder. He let her go when he noticed that her breathing was finally back to normal.

“You okay?” He asked softly again, wiping the remaining tears off of her face with the pad of his thumbs. She sniffed and nodded, making him smile.

“Not that this isn’t adorable...which, it is, but Five? We gotta go!” Diego’s voice was heard in front of them. They both gasped, turning to him with red faces.

“What are YOU doing here?!” he seethed, helping Y/N up. He chuckled before holding out a tracking device that showed Five’s location.

“Just in case you decided to turn against us at some point, I had this.” He explained, a smirk planted on his face. 

“Whatever, let’s go.” Five mumbled, walking out of the room, his face still a nice shade of red. However, Diego turned to the girl.

“Sorry about Elliot.” He ruffled her hair before exiting.

-

GUYS I KNOW THIS IS TRASH AND HER BACKSTORY DOESNT MAKE ANY SENSE BUT BARE WITH ME HERE IM RUNNING ON 1 HOUR OF SLEEP AND CAFFEINE HFJKIUJHNDKIUJSK 

[nutty1005]

Uniquely Him – Xiao Zhan: The biggest monster to defeat is himself

Translator’s Note: This article comes from ELLE Magazine 2019 Jan Issue.

He learned drawing since elementary school, drawing planets and monsters were his obsession, firmly believing in the existence of aliens. As a lively, vivid and exemplary person, he radiates a sense of security from someone dependable, and yet he has a worldly wisdom of one who knows the ways of the world but prefers not to practice it. 

He learned drawing since young, drawing planets and monsters were his obsession. When he watched Martians in movies as a child, his wild imagination gave him a battle with monsters. At that time, he was a boy who was especially fascinated with space, and believed firmly that aliens existed. When he saw news on UFOs, he was excited, curious, but also afraid – would the aliens be friendly with us?

After he read “The Three-Body Problem”, this feeling grew stronger. While exclaiming the broadness of the author’s imagination and how grand the universe is, he researched on the theories and explanations in the novel, as well as on astronomy. Xiao Zhan also imagined how the subjects in “The Three-Body Problem” would look like, “looks like an engineer, perhaps he wears spectacles, he must have a highly progressed mind, great mechanical skills, but probably useless in everyday life, just like Sheldon in ‘The Big Bang Theory’.”

The cruel logic behind all the glitz

Seated in front of the window in the hotel room, his long narrow eyes, puffy and red, Xiao Zhan just finished a day’s filming, and was accepting our interview in a layer of thick winter coat. His attitude was polite, and all around him was the vividness of youth – this made a huge impression.

He had his own studio when he was in year 2 of university, and became a designer after graduating – exemplary student Xiao Zhan’s most glorious moment was being able to design logos in projects with his seniors while he was still an intern, and the client eventually chose his design. Life as a designer lasted until 2015 – his university teacher recommended him to participate in “X-Fire” (TN: A talent search variety show) and he debuted, and since then, his life went onto a different track, becoming one of the hottest idols currently.

Actually, the challenge of becoming an artist is not much different from fighting monsters – since you receive flowers and applause, you would also receive gossip and rumors. His life had been smooth sailing till this, and this confused him for a while, “When the competition ended, there was some dissenting voices, I didn’t quite understand then. Now I’m more at peace, because when you choose a career, you need to learn to accept it. People will like you, and there will be people who won’t.”

However, the cruel logic behind all the glitz was something he could not have imagined. “Audiences do not see what you’ve experienced along the way, they would only judge you based on the final results.” He was filming his first period movie, being outdoors in the mountains at -10°C+ was a daily norm, “We’re filming by the river, everyday we could see the ice slowly form up, today the river is totally frozen, we could walk on it. Basically after every scene I have to cover my face with a warm water bag, otherwise my face would be numb from the cold and become uncontrollable.” And because today there was a scene to scream and shout, Xiao Zhan’s voice was already hoarse.

Xiao Zhan could overcome all this suffering and exhaustion well, the biggest monster he wanted to fight were his self imposed restrictions. “Just now I was thinking while doing make-up, that actually celebrities are like a product, packaged by make-up and styles in order to polish this product. I will bring forth my best to my audiences, but yet I don’t want to over package myself, the real me needs to be in it. I wish that everyone, while accepting my glorious exterior as a celebrity, would also accept my flaws and quirks, since after all, I am a vivid person.”

This sincerity and clarity is where Xiao Zhan’s wisdom lies.

“There is no grandiose in my life”

2018 is the year of rapid growth for Xiao Zhan, he had main roles in various dramas, such as “The Wolf”, “Joy of Life”, “The Untamed”, etc – honing his acting and radiating his presence.

As the lead actor in “The Untamed”, Xiao Zhan’s load was heavy and his filming schedule was tight – filming under the ceaseless summer heat in Hengdian, his mind was always tense. The temperatures in the set was as high as 50°C, the make-up could not stay on, and he filmed most scenes barefaced. The most unforgettable scene was a crying scene – Wei Wuxian, portrayed by Xiao Zhan, had an explosive emotional scene after the massacre of the Jiang family. This scene started filming in the morning, he and Jiang Yanli started crying since 7 a.m. and after they were done, their eyes were as swollen as that of goldfishes. Before this, he was filming “The Wolf” – he systematically took performance classes and grew rapidly in during the filming. “Familiar set and environment, learning to adjust to the nerves and tension, especially since there were hundreds of people servicing you on set, you can do no mistakes.” Xiao Zhan radiates this sense of security from someone dependable. “The Wolf” was his first time as a main supporting role, and he was under tremendous pressure during that period, he often dreamed of acting on set. After every scene he would request for everyone to provide feedback, and then he would learn continuously, analyze and quickly adjust.

After that he had his first cat of his life, a munchkin named Jianguo (TN: Jianguo means nut). After the performance teacher learned about this, one of the homework he gave Xiao Zhan was for him to observe his cat. As a cat-lover, he reveled in the it, “I found out some things that I overlooked, like you will find out that when she’s angry, affectionate or hungry her expression and calls are different.” Xiao Zhan was exceptionally loving to his cat – the first thing he did when after a day’s work was to go home and play with his cat. His private life was quiet and simple, he just stays at home. “The feeling of staying at home is like falling into a cloud, you could roll around as you like, there is no pressure.”

“There is no grandiose in my life.” This was what he felt that gave people the sense of security. His parents, while supportive of his career, were also worried, hence Xiao Zhan often communicated with them, sharing his career successes, helping them be at ease.

In the whole conversation, Xiao Zhan had the purity and enthusiasm belonging uniquely to a youth, and there was this sense of extraordinary realness in him. “Whether or not I want to be an idol, I don’t actually have a choice, the label of an idol is already on me, just that I want to slowly shed off the label of an idol, and become an actor accepted by audiences, so that they can see more of my inner self.”

“I especially dislike public proclamations, you have to pace your life.”

ELLE: What type of boyfriend do you think you are? XZ: I am the boyfriend who is more considerate of the other person, if there were to be my other half in the future, when she’s busy, upset or happy, or wants me to do something, I’ll try to accompany her the way she likes it.

ELLE: Are you the gentle puppy type of boyfriend? XZ: There’s definitely a dominating side, but if you were to be dominating everyday, how do you live? When you have the other half, the most important things are responsibility and trust. (After having a cat, do you think you’re a good dad?) I feel yes, from taking care of my cat.

ELLE: What type of girls do you most want to date? XZ: In many interviews before I spoke about warm, gentle and family-loving girls, but I feel that it still comes down to chemistry, and this is something unpredictable.

ELLE: If you are currently dating a girl, how would you hope to spend Valentine’s Day? XZ: Stay at home, and cook together. There’s a phrase about when you love the right person, every day’s Valentine’s Day, why do you have to spend that day in the crowd with everyone. Being an artist is quite particular, and quite tiring, I have to go back to live my life. If everyday has to be vigorous and stirring, there’s no way to live. No one can act everyday, I especially dislike public proclamations, I feel that you have to pace your life.

ELLE: If we give you a holiday now, what would you do? XZ: Go home and rest, with my parents, and then play with my cat.

ELLE: Are you a typical Libra? XZ: I don’t think so, I don’t have difficulties in choosing, when I spot something I want to buy, I’ll just buy. But sometimes I’ll be stuck in things that I care about, for example the scene I did today, if I’m not satisfied with it, I will think about it from morning till night, and annoy the others around me with my nagging.

[writerwithtoomanyships]

Summary: The sides do a Secret Santa... fluff and mild chaos ensue

Pairings: Platonic DRLAMP, Dukeceit/Demus, Logicality, Prinxiety

Warnings: A little bit of self-deprecating thoughts at the beginning, and some Remus being Remus

Genre: Fluff fluff fluff!

Credit:

@multi-fandoms-posts - Thanks for the suggestion! I took some creative liberties but this is based on a suggestion they gave me.

@voltsm - Thanks for the encouragement! This person is an INCREDIBLE artist, I highly recommend looking at their amazing amazing blog!

A/N: This is the first Sanders Sides one shot I've written in a while, but I think it turned out well! Please don't repost on different websites, but reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Remus paced his room, growling in frustration. His mind wandered back to the conversation all the sides had earlier.

"Let's do a Secret Santa!" Patton had said, looking like he was going to burst from excitement.

Roman nodded enthusiastically. "That's a great idea, padre!"

"I'm up for it if you guys are," Virgil replied with a shrug.

"I do believe that doing a Secret Santa could be beneficial to our mental and emotional health," said Logan, pushing up his glasses.

All of them looked at Janus and Remus, catching both of them off guard.

"You'd really be okay with us joining?" Remus asked.

"Of course! We are famILY, after all!" Patton responded happily. Remus looked at Janus, who simply shrugged.

"I think the Secret Santa is an awful idea and wouldn't like to participate," Janus said with a small smirk.

"Why not!" Remus happily agreed.

Yet here he was now, flopping on his bed, and ironically out of ideas. He summoned something to eat, and wasn't sure if it was deodorant, a sandwich, or some ungodly abomination of both. At this point he didn't care.

He stared at the faint strip of paper labeled "Janus." Each of them had grabbed a paper from Janus's hat, and Remus had been pretty excited when he got the name of his best friend. Until he couldn't figure out what to get him.

"I'm CREATIVITY, and I've been his friend the longest! I should know what to get him!" he angrily muttered to himself. "Who am I kidding... I'm just intrusive thoughts."

"Hey Rem-" Roman said, rising up in his brother's room. He instantly stopped when he saw the poorly disguised bags under Remus's eyes. "...you okay?"

"Not really," Remus mumbled into his blankets, "why'd you come?"

Roman paused for a second. "Wellll I was having some trouble coming up with a gift for the person I got, so I was wondering if you could help. However, it looks like your having some trouble too."

Remus looked up at Roman, noticing the bags he had under his eyes as well.

"Creative block," they both muttered at the same time.

Remus laughed for the first time in days. "Wow, even the creativity gets it," he said with a teasing smirk.

"I think you mean creativities. We are both creativity, after all!" Roman happily replied. He began ranting about something he was trying to make, but Remus didn't hear a word.

Both creativity, he thought as he began to smile again, he thinks we're both creativity?

"Rem? Remus?" Roman asked.

"Oh, sorry! What'd you say? Remus asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

"What should I get Virgil?" Roman asked again.

"Virgil?"

"Yeah, Gerard Gay isn't the best at dropping hints at what he wants."

"Hm... what do you know he likes? Put yourself in his shoes. Or his-"

"MUSIC HE LIKES MUSIC!" Roman quickly interrupted. "He likes listening to music!"

Remus laughed a loud, full, laugh, making Roman smile and laugh a little as well. "If you were Virgil, what would you want?"

Roman pondered the question for a couple minutes, then suddenly shot up with an idea. "OH! I KNOW WHAT TO GET HIM! Thanks Remus!"

"No problem Roman, just remember to-" Remus began, then looked at Roman who narrowed his eyes in suspicion, "toooooo... wish him a Merry Christmas!"

"Nice save," Roman chuckled, making Remus beam. "Do you want some help figuring out what to give who you have?"

Remus sighed, mumbling a tired "I don't know," into his pillows.

"Hm... well just remember what you told me," Roman said, "what would you want if you were them?" Remus opened his mouth with a mischevious smirk, to which Roman added, "rule of thumb, if you wouldn't want Patton to get mad or pass out, don't give it as a gift." Remus immediately shut his mouth.

Remus sighed and groaned into his pillow, exhausted from having no ideas.

"Let's see... you can make things, summon things-" Roman started.

"Wait, summon things, like animals?" Remus asked.

"Of course! If you wanted to, that is. Although I'd suggest not making it lethal," Roman replied with a smile.

Remus grinned. "Thanks Ro, I think I have an idea!"

"That's great! Let me know if you'd like any help!"

"Thanks!"

Remus smiled to himself as Roman left, carefully working on his idea for Janus. He was certain it would be amazing.

~CHRISTMAS DAY~

"CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS, CHRISTMAS!" Patton excitedly shouted, waking everyone up in the process.

Patton had insisted on a sleepover on Christmas Eve, and none of them had the heart to deny the request.

Virgil yawned, failing to hide the small smile on his face as he noticed Roman stretch, hair messily falling down on his face.

"Nice bedhead Princey," Virgil teased.

Roman playfully glared, clutching his heart as if in agony.

"Why, Emo Nightmare, must you wound me like this? How could you DARE insist that, I, PRINCE Roman, have a-" he tilted his head back dramatically, causing him to see his reflection in a mirror and let out a very un-prince like squawk.

"I'll make the hot cocoa and then we can do the Secret Santa!" Patton exclaimed, rushing to the kitchen.

"I can assist you Patton," Logan offered, putting on his glasses.

"Thanks Logie!" Patton replied, making Logan blush at the nickname.

Remus and Janus slowly woke up as well, both a little excited although hesitant admit it.

"Well, this is not how I wanted to be woken up," Janus mumbled to himself with a soft smile on his face, oblivious to a blushing Remus looking at him. When he looked back and saw Remus staring at him, a faint blush spread behind his scales.

"Hey Janus, there's chaos and I didn't cause it!" Remus said, turning away to hide his blush.

"I'm not surprised, and I don't think you'll add to the chaos as soon as you can-" Janus began, only to see Remus already gone and probably eating something inedible.

After the chaos had died down (Roman brushed his hair and they dragged back Remus from eating Christmas lights), it was finally time for the Secret Santa to begin.

"Me first!" Patton said, rushing to grab the gift he had gotten. As soon as he found it he ran back to put it in Logan's lap. "This is my Secret Santa gift to you!"

"Do... do they know what a SECRET Santa is supposed to be?" Janus whispered to Remus who was sitting next to him, raising an eyebrow.

After taking a moment to collect himself, Logan carefully unwrapped the gift. Inside were multiple sci-fi series that he had been looking for.

"I knew you had been looking for those books, so I got them for you!" Patton exclaimed, voice nearly shaking from excitement.

For a moment, Logan was stunned into silence. However, he quickly recovered and replied with "t-thank you Patton, I deeply appreciate the thought put into this. I look forward to reading them."

Patton quietly peeped a quick "you're welcome," butterflies in his chest from the touched look on Logan's face. Logan suddenly turned back around, handing a small wrapped gift to Patton. "It's not the best, but I hope it's satisfactory."

Patton quickly looked up, momentarily caught up in the euphoria of gifts. He tore into the present to find a small, blue, crotche cat with a tiny heart on it's ear.

"Aww, Logan!!! This is purrrr-fect!"

Logan tried to roll his eyes at the pun, but couldn't keep a small laugh from escaping.

"Me next!" Roman sang dramatically, heading over to Virgil with a carefully wrapped gift and taking a seat next to him.

Virgil carefully opened his gift, slowly taking off the tape and removing the wrapping paper. Roman bounced up and down next to him, both in nervousness and excitement.

After what felt like forever to Roman, Virgil pulled out a dark purple set of headphones, with a black thorn pattern carved into them.

"Woah Princey... did you MAKE these?" Virgil asked, completely in shock at the care put into the headphones he held.

"Yep!" Roman responded giddily. "It took a lot of time, but I figured it out! The thorns were a last minute touch though. Oh! And they also block out other sounds, you had mentioned that your current headphones didn't do that a while ago."

Virgil, one of the most reserved sides, looked like he was on the verge of tears. "Thanks... I didn't realize you cared that much Roman," he said quietly, hiding his blushing face in his sleeves and gently leaning against him.

Roman gave him a soft, genuine smile as Virgil leaned against his arm. "Of course Stormcloud!"

"This is your present... it's awful compared to the headphones though..." Virgil mumbled, shyly taking his head out of his hands and giving Roman a shiny red bag with lots of tissue paper.

Roman being Roman, he quickly (and messily) opened up the gift, squealing when he pulled out a thin but elegant red crown. "It's a CROWN, put it on me, put it on me, put it on me!"

Virgil hesitantly put it Roman, who squealed impossibly louder after turning around and seeing his reflection in the mirror. "I love it!!!"

Roman hugged Virgil tightly, and after the initial shock, Virgil relaxed into the hug. To Roman's surprise, he stayed leaning against him even when the hug had ended. He didn't mind.

"Since it isn't obvious who your gift is from now, here's yours Remus," Janus said, handing a rather large bag to Remus.

Remus immediately tore into the bag, clawing his way in through the side instead of taking out the tissue paper. He gasped in astonishment when he pulled out a long, intricate sword, identical to the one of his logo.

"Woahhhh..." he whispered under his breath, admiring the sword. He looked up at Janus, a huge grin on his face. "Thanks!!"

Janus smiled, secretly relieved that Remus did enjoy his gift.

"I have your gift... I just didn't really have a way to wrap it," Remus said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "So, uh, hold out your hands and close your eyes."

"Remus, is this something appropriate?"

"Yep!"

Janus raised an eyebrow but did as Remus had asked. A second later, he heard a collective gasp from around the room, followed by something placed in his hand.

"You can open your eyes now."

Janus slowly opened his eyes, shocked to find a small, yellow snake that fit in the palm of his hand. His eyes widened, and for a brief second his face shone like the universe had been placed in his eyes.

"You like it?" Remus asked.

Janus nodded vigorously, at a loss for words but as absolutely adoring the snake that slithered in his hand.

After opening the rest of the gifts, all the sides stayed together for a Christmas movie night. Patton was asleep on a dreaming Logan, and Virgil was asleep against a sleepy Roman who wrapped his arms around him.

"Hey, Janus?" Remus asked, yawning.

Janus looked over.

"Did... did you really like my gift?"

Janus smiled a true, genuine smile, reserved oy for Remus, and kissed Remus's forehead softly, making them both blush. "I loved it."

As Remus soon fell asleep against Janus, the slimey snake boi only had one thought.

Rigging the Secret Santa was definitely worth it.

[raminboots]

↱ Unfortunate Circumstances ↲

Inspired by @chasing-starlights story about villain accidentally drugging a hero with a love potion

.・゜゜・ ♡ ・゜゜・．

“Get away from me you cretin!”

A large bang was heard throughout the city of Harfields as the city's favorite hero chased down his ten-legged nemesis. More specifically, the ten-legged man was jumping from building to building as the other one chased him down while flying. Moe was rushing all he could, feeling the adrenaline pump throughout his body as he hopped from one roof to another.

Although it wasn’t really him that did it, it was with the help of the mechanical spider-like legs that were protruding out of his back. He had eight of them, all connected to his brain and working together as actual limbs. Moe was a special case in the war between good and bad. Most of them, whether it was a hero or a villain, had some sort of power. Not Moe, he was a regular person, and to make up for that, he used machinery.

He had a bunch of body and limb enhancers, like his spider legs. But he also had a plethora of others that he stored on his body. But, they had a tendency to overheat or even break in the midst of battle.

The man was rushing with a briefcase pressed to his chest, holding on to it for dear life as he practically threw himself from roof to roof, taking sharp turns, dipping down in between buildings and even crashing into one apartment's window and out of another. All of this in desperation of shaking off the hero who was on his tail. Moe couldn’t lose the briefcase, he just couldn’t. He wouldn’t know what to do if he did.

“You know, running will get you nowhere, Arachnid!” He could hear the hero shout at him from behind, all this did was fuel the fire as he picked up the pace out of pure spite.

“Oh we’ll see about that one!” That was the only thing he had to say to that moronic meathead. But he would soon have to eat his own words as one of his legs got tangled up in two of the other spider legs, causing the whole thing to trip up and for Moe to fall down. Now, that wouldn’t have been too bad if he had fallen on the hard rooftop, it would have been humiliating but it wouldn’t have caused him too much pain.

Instead, he had to have fallen just before he was supposed to jump. So when he fell, he fell straight off the 30 feet tall building head first. He let out a cry of horror as he closed his eyes, waiting for the hard impact of the ground.

But it never came, instead, he felt his body jolt up as it stopped completely mid air. At first he thought that one of his enhancers had been caught on some wire or pipe sticking out from the building, that was until he heard a light chuckle from above him. Oh no.

He tensed up. As he looked up, he saw that the person who had indeed caught him was none other than Mr. Fire himself. Thomas Clément, more commonly known in the hero industry as Wildfire. He was intense, headstrong, insanely determined and robust. And he was Moe’s personally assigned hero.

You see, in the city of Harfields, there were two kinds of people. Normal humans and mutants. These mutants were gifted with divine powers and abilities that made them all powerful. And of course, the government was going to take advantage of that. They created an organisation called The Hero Preparation Foundation, or H.P.F for short. This was where mutants could train and earn their title as a hero. After that they were allowed to go out into the world and serve justice.

But not everyone who was a mutant wanted to be a hero. But the city didn’t care, and more often than not, resisting mutants either got forced into training or got locked up, getting labelled as “too dangerous” to walk freely.

In response to this horrid treatment, a small set of individuals created a resistance. The group went against all of the ideals of the H.P.F because of their corrupt ways. And as the cause got stronger, the more mutants joined, and sooner or later, the group became an underground organisation with hundreds of members. And Moe was one of those members.

But the thing was, once H.P.F got wind as to what was happening, they started a program where they documented each “villain”, as they called them, that was publically known. That would include all their powers, goals and attacks. Then they would try to find the best matching hero to “assign” to that villain, that way, whenever the villain was up to something, their hero would be notified and they would handle them. This way, they streamlined all the hero's work and made it easier to deal with.

Wildfire was assigned to Moe, and at first, Moe didn't understand why. Why would they assign a fire-type hero to a mechanic-type villain. But he would soon learn the hard way just why this combo was so effective. Wildfire’s powers included many different types of fire manipulation, including creating compact balls of flames that he could shoot and throw.

Moe couldn’t count all the times he’d massecared one of his machines or blown up one of his equipment. He could always rebuild them of course, there was a reason that he was called the mechanical spider. Whenever he was building his movements were fast, sharp and very persize. He could build things that would take days in just a couple of hours. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t annoying whenever Wildfire destroyed the shit he’d been working on.

The hero was looking at him with a playful smirk, not a menacing or mean-spirited one, rather one filled with amusement and glee. And that, in Moe’s opinion, was way worse.

“Well well well. If it isn’t my favorite spider. How’s it hanging, mon moitié?” The man said as he looked down at Moe who was in a very compromisable position. He couldn’t help but scoff at his stupid pun. And the french didn’t help his annoyance. He hated when Wildfire spoke french to him, because he couldn’t understand a word he was saying.

“Go to hell.” The hero quirked his eyebrow at this, a smile still remaining on his face.

“Ouch! Such hostility, what did I ever do to deserve this kind of treatment, Arachnid?” He asked in an exaggerated voice, Moe rolled his eyes, ignoring him. “Aww come on, is this really how you treat your friends?” Moe felt annoyance build up in his body as he heard this. Although, Wildfire couldn’t see this annoyance on his face since he wore a gas mask that covered half of his face and a pair of goggles, blocking out both his face and his eyes.

“Shut up! We’re not friends, we’ve never been friends and we never will be!” He kicked his legs slightly in frustration, making his body dangle slightly in Wildfire’s grasp.

“You know, you’ve got a lot of balls saying this stuff for someone in your position.”

“What are you going to do? Drop me? I thought you hero’s were supposed to be better than us.” Moe could admit, if it was anyone else holding him he would not be talking like this. But it was Wildfire, it was Thomas. That big idiot would never drop him. He has a strict no killing policy and he has never broken that policy throughout his years as a hero. He doubted that he would break this policy now.

“Nah, you’re holding onto something way too important for me to drop you.” Moe thought for a second before he remembered what he was holding.

“The briefcase? I’ll drop it! I swear to god I’ll drop it if you don’t put me down!”

“You wouldn't.”

“Oh I so would!”

“Okay, then I’ll drop you and catch the briefcase.” This caught Moe slightly off guard. He knew deep down that Wildfire wouldn't, but it would be so easy for him to drop him if he felt like it.

Wildfire sighed, running a hand through his brown curly hair. This only brought the fact that he was holding Moe with one hand to his attention. He would say that it was impressive but Moe knew about his super-human strength. And he’s not going to compliment him for doing one of the three things he was good at as a hero; Fire-casting, flying and being strong.

“Look. How about you just hand over the briefcase and we can spare you any extra embarrassment once you get home to your little villain hide-out.” At first, Moe was confused by this statement. That was until he looked down and saw a pretty sizable crowd that had formed at the bottom of the building. Any and all confidence that Moe had left his body as he felt his face heat up.

“Put me down! Right now! I’m telling you, you better-” Moe was interrupted.

“Say the magic words.” After Wildfire said that, Moe shot a glare at him, and after that he looked down once more. People were watching and some were even filming, but the two were very high up so he doubted that they could hear him. After a couple of seconds of consideration he sighed as he kept his gaze away from Wildfire. And he remained like that for a good minute or two. At this point he didn’t care if people were watching, he had already embarrassed himself enough, he wasn’t about to lose his last piece of dignity by playing Wildfires games. It didn’t take long before the hero sighed, and that was when Moe knew that at least in one way, he had won. Certainly not in any significant way, but it was at least something.

And so, the hero flew away. He flew with the villain dangling from his grasp, as he lowered himself down into an alleyway a bit away from the crowd. As soon as he was put down, Moe immediately tried to scramble away like a scared cat, but he didn’t get very far.

“Oh no you don’t. Come back here.” Wildfire grabbed a hold of one of the spider-legs and yanked it backwards, effectively pulling Moe back and also severing the leg. “Oh shit, sorry ‘bout that one. God, you oughta make them a bit stronger.”

“A bit stronger? You have superhuman strength! What do you want me to do? Get some indestructible material? You’re such an idiot- '' Before Moe could finish, a hand slammed itself mere inches from his face, making him flinch as he looked back at the hero towering over him.

“Listen, Arachnid. I’m really tired today, why don’t you just cut to the chase and give me the briefcase.” Moe hugged the briefcase to his chest, clutching onto it as he looked away from Wildfire. He sighed in response. “I will rip it out of your hands if I have to, and I don’t think any of us wants that.” Moe looked down at the briefcase one last time, furrowing his eyebrows before letting out a defeated sigh.

Looking at the ground, he extended the hand holding the case to the hero, and he grabbed it, very gently. Sometimes it was almost painful to Moe to feel how careful Wildfire was with him. He didn’t understand why he didn’t just rip the case out of his hands, why he didn’t let him fall, why he never aimed for Moe when throwing his fire balls. He had been presented with so many opportunities to hurt him, to kill him, and yet, he never did.

Without another word, only a glance over at Moe, Wildfire flew away, leaving Moe alone in the alleyway.

…

“Yes Mark, it would seem like the young hero Wildfire managed to secure a briefcase from The Mad Arachnid earlier today nearby the H.P.F headquarters. When asked about the contents of the briefcase or the villains whereabouts, the hero had this to say,”

The faint sound from a television plagued Moe’s mind as he walked through the streets of Harfields. It sat in the window of a television shop, broadcasting a news channel that was talking about the battle that had occured only minutes earlier. He looked at it, tuning out the sounds and feeling his gaze get stuck. Soon he looked at his reflection in the display window. His eyes were tired and unfocused. One big benefit from having a mask and goggles during his fights was that no one, not even Thomas could see what he was thinking.

After their fight, Moe had fled and hid away in a separate dark alleyway. He couldn’t be in the same one that Thomas had dropped him off at, there would surely be cops and people crowding the area. He needed a quiet space where he could not only calm down but also change out of his disguise since he didn’t want to draw any unneeded attention to him by walking home in his villain outfit. And once he calmed down, that’s what he did.

Hiding behind a big dumpster, he threw off his spider leg compartments by removing his backplate from under his trenchcoat. It had started to heat up during their battle and Moe was left with the uncomfortable heat on his back as he changed into his spare shirt and jacket that he had brought with him. He didn’t want to say that he expected to lose, but he believed that you should, as he was taught, hope for the best, prepare for the worst.

He took off his lower half gas-mask and thick goggles feeling like he could breathe properly and fully. He put his long hair into a ponytail as he pulled the hood from his jacket over his head.

He walked out of the damp alley and out into the streets of Harfields, feeling a pit start to form in his stomach as it finally started to settle in what had just happened, he just lost the briefcase full of the H.P.F intel.

Feeling himself snap back to reality he realised that he had zoned out in front of the tv. It showed a picture of him, The Mad Arachnid, along with phrases like “be on the lookout” and “Call immediate authorities if seen”.

He stuck his hands in his pockets as he muttered to himself while walking home. He couldn’t exactly take a bus there since public transport was on hold because of their fight, and he just had to get away from the main part of the city as fast as he could. Pulling on his hoodie strings, he grumbled and kept up his pace, trying to walk as fast as he could. Part of him contemplated even going back to the headquarters, he knew what was waiting for him there. But he knew the rules and what he had to do.

“How could you let this happen! Don’t you understand just how important those files were!?” Moe flinched as he got cursed out by one of the leaders of the organisation. They called him Raven. That was his only alias, only a handful of people knew his real name. The reason he was called Raven was because of his mechanical wings that he used to fly around, accompanied by a pair of claw-like gloves and a plague doctor mask. It was easy to see where Moe had gotten his inspiration for his costume from.

But Raven was similar to Moe in more ways than one. He too had no powers at all. He used his wings to get around and claws to attack. Although, since he was the leader and symbol of their movement, Raven didn’t actually attack all that often. He mostly helped people who trained, held meetings and planned out all the attacks.

“… I’m sorry…” Moe mumbled as he looked down on the table in front of him, feeling the shame drape over him like the very trench coat he wore. He was currently sitting inside Raven's office, getting lectured by the older villain. He let out a sigh as he looked at the shrunken up boy, whether that was with pity or disappointment didn’t make a difference to Moe. Nothing that Raven thought of him in that moment wasn’t something that Moe hadn’t thought of himself.

“Listen to me kid-”

“I’m not a kid.”

“Don’t… interrupt me.” Raven told the younger villian off. “You’ve got a lot of potential, alright?” This was what Raven always told Moe when he failed. You’ll get them next time, you have a lot of potential, you just need to work on your attacks.

Despite all his encouragement, Moe had a painful lose-to-win ratio, having barely won two or three fights while losing the rest. At what point do you just throw in the towel? Raven was conflicted, as his mentor he wanted to tell him that it was okay, that he would get stronger the more he trained. But as his boss he had to ask himself, was this all worth it? He wanted to see him thrive and grow, but at times it didn’t even feel as if Moe himself wanted to grow.

“... Don’t feel too bad about the files. We can just wait a few months and send someone else.” Moe didn’t expect to be allowed the mission again, but it still hurt to hear Raven admit that he screwed up, enough to deny any second chance.

Moe only nodded his head at this. Refusing to make eye contact with Raven. It pained Raven to see such a sad sight. He knew Moe was super passionate about their cause, joining them despite not having any powers. And no matter how many times he lost, he always returned. That’s why he didn’t want to give up on him, he was more devoted to their stand than most of their members.

Since their cause grew bigger and bigger, more people started to join just to have an excuse to commit crimes. They didn’t care about the resistance or the others involved, so to have someone like Moe, it wasn’t something you saw everyday.

“Why don’t you just lay low for a while, alright? You’ve been out on a lot of missions lately. You should go home and relax, you’ve been pushing yourself too much and I think it’s getting to you.” Moe let out a sharp breathy laugh, he knew that Raven was probably right, but it didn’t feel very good to be sent home when he should be doing something. But the laugh was short lived as he got quiet.

“… Alright sir, I will.”

As Moe walked out of his office and down the hallways of the HQ, he could feel almost a dozen eyes plastering onto him. He knew what they were all thinking. He was known as the runt of the organisation. Nothing but a waste of space and resources. He knew what they said to him behind closed doors. All of them, nothing but snakes.

Speaking of snakes, Moe sighed as he heard a certain low chuckle, a chuckle that anyone who’s been working there would know about. Turning his attention to one of the darker areas at the end of the hallway he could see two glowing eyes staring back at him.

“Hello, Serpent.” The black serpent, she was an infamous trickster among villains. Through her battles she proved two things; she saw everything as a game, laughing and messing around during her missions, but she also proved that she was quite useful when it came to winning. She had won so many of her battles, she was the complete opposite of Moe, having a drastically higher win streak than her lose streak. Everyone knew that she was one of the people who joined just to cause chaos, but it didn’t matter. She could care fuck all about the cause, she was simply too valuable of an asset to lose. And so, she got to stay.

“Evening to ya. Heard you totally busted your last mission.” She giggled as she formed out from the shadows, having only been a mist with two glowing eyes up until then.

“...”

“Yeah it was really embarrassing as well,” she let out yet another mocking laugh. “It was like, broadcasted to all of us. We got to see that sweet failure in raw HD.”

“If you’re just here to mock me then you can piss off. I don’t have time to talk to you.” He started to walk away, and that was when Serpent quickly turned into mist and slid in front of him. She reformed once more, much closer to him this time. Causing him to flinch back.

“Amazingly enough, I’m actually not here just to mock you.” Keyword being just. “I’m actually here to make you an offer.” Now this actually intrigued Moe quite a bit.

“What do you mean? What… kind of deal?” He asked, this made the shadow manipulator smirk. She got him.

“What Raven says about you isn’t false Moe,” he tensed up as she used his real name. They’re not supposed to refer to each other by their actual names unless it’s really urgent or serious. Although, Serpent was quite liberal with her use of these names, specifically Moe’s.

“You’ve got a lot of potential. But here’s the thing, those bastards at H.P.F are really good at matching heroes with villains, and it just so happens that they paired you up with a really good one. I think the only thing holding you back is your failures, if you could just win a couple of battles against that meathead, I’m sure you’ll get even better!” Moe picked at his fingers as he looked away from the taller woman in front of him.

“But… wouldn’t that be… cheating? What are you even going to do?” He asked, the woman started to walk away, nudging her head in his opposite direction, signaling for him to follow her.

“Since when have we ever followed the rules? There are no cheaters in this game, only winners and losers. I’m not gonna kill him or anything like that, then they would just send another hero. No, what if I told you there was a way for you to be able to completely control him? To control that wildfire that has been plaguing your life!” Moe fidgeted uncomfortably with the ends of his shirt as he interjected.

“How would you even do that?” Serpent only chuckled in response.

“A potion.” Of course. Serpent was known for her work with potions and other kinds of magic.

“How would I ever get close enough to give him the potion though?” Serpent sighed as she turned back to Moe, her eyebrow twitching slightly.

“God, do you ever stop whining. Figure it out. Doesn’t that big dope hold a bunch of fan meetups all the time? Just go dressed as a fan and give him a pastry with the potion inside of it. This seems way too easy for you to be complaining this much.” Suddenly, she stopped, turning back to Moe and grabbing his shoulders.

“Imagine it, you could play him like a fiddle- no, like a cheap kazoo! All with your own mind! You could finally win!” She was shaking him slightly, trying to build up anticipation in him. Moe pulled away, backing away from the woman. This only made her sigh as she rolled her eyes. “There you go again with your ‘oh god Serpent is crazy’ look. If you’re too much of a coward to do it that’s fine. But remember, if you ever change your mind,” She walked closer to him, placing a small card in his shirt pocket,

“You know where to find me.”

It was dusk, the sky was a orange hue. Moe liked the color a lot, it was really comforting to him for whatever reason. He had taken a train back home and now he was standing outside of his apartment, digging through his pockets to find them. After taking them out he hesitated slightly before he put the keys in and opened the door.

“Welcome home, Moe. How was today?” The monotonous voice of his assistant greeted him as soon as he entered his home. They were looking at him, eyes glowing as he turned on the lights in the apartment. There had been quite a few times that he had woken up to those terrifying yellow eyes staring at him in the middle of the night, but at this point he was pretty used to it.

“Not great.” His answer was short and sweet. He found that it was easier to not lie around E.S.A.H and just get their daily checkup done.

“Would you like to tell me about it or not?” They responded according to program.

“No thank you.” Moe said as he walked inside, going into his kitchen.

“Could you rate your day from 1 to 10 for me please?” They asked, following behind him, hands behind their back.

“Like, a 2? Maybe a 3? Yeah, a 3.” He answered, taking out a cold drink from the fridge. This was a standard procedure between the two. E.S.A.H would run a fairly simple checkup to make sure he was alright. If anything went wrong they would report to Raven and Storm, the second leader of the cause. Moe learned very quickly that he couldn’t be sarcastic with the bot after a bad joke led to a very awkward phone call with a very upset Raven.

“And how would you rate your overall well being at the moment?” Moe let out a breathy sigh as he thought to himself.

“Probably a 5. I���ll go with 5.” As he walked into his small living room, he threw himself on the couch and turned on the TV, absentmindedly flipping through all the channels, but he stopped once he came across an interview with none other than Wildfire. They were, presumably, talking about the fight earlier that day. Moe scoffed and was just about to change channels when he heard something.

“So, Wildfire,”

“Please, call me Thomas.” He was so pretentiously humble. Moe rolled his eyes.

“Ah, of course. Thomas, is there any reason why you can’t tell us where The Mad Arachnid went?” The interviewer asked. Moe tensed up slightly, looking towards the TV.

“What…” He mumbled to himself. And for once, Moe turned up the volume and listened.

“Well, sadly it’s classified H.P.F information.” Moe stopped paying attention as his own thoughts got louder than the TV.

Bullshit. In almost every single case of a villain escaping, the H.P.F always came out with at least a statement about where they believe the villain might be residing. There’s absolutely no reason as to why HIS whereabouts would be classified.

Was Thomas… Lying? Was he lying about their fight? He practically let him get away! He always does! Everytime they fight, he always lets him go, he never aims for him, he never lets him fall, he never reveals where he is or what happened. He grumbled as turned away from the TV.

“Are you okay? You seem upset?” E.S.A.H asked, looking over at Moe.

“I don’t need his pity…” Moe said to himself, completely ignoring the robot. E.S.A.H tilted their head in confusion as they could see Moe take out a card from his pocket.

“What’s that?” They asked, looking at him with wonder.

“It’s…” Moe looked down at the card. The phone number almost felt like it was calling to him, wanting for him to call it. That’s when a voice on the TV brought him out of his trance.

“So, you’re going to be holding a meetup of some sort on saturday?”

“Yes! I want to… well it sounds kinda silly, but I want to give back to the people for getting me this far!”

“And you’re not worried about any crazy fans?”

“Oh please, I fight villains for a living. I can handle anything at this point.” The hero smiled and laughed slightly as they continued the interview. Moe thought to himself for a second, looking down at the card in his hand. He stood up from his couch and walked towards his room.

“It’s nothing you have to worry about. Now,” He looked back at the robot one last time before opening the door to said room.

“I have to make a phone call…”

[bungou-stray-dingus]

hey!! could you do the non ability innocent s/o scenario but with fukuzawa and mori? (Ps I just binged all of your writing I love it so much 🥺💗)

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! YOU’RE AMAZING!!

IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG, WORK HAS ME BACK AT IT AGAIN.

LOVE YOU ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Fukuzawa

You were perfect to him, and for him. He first saw you sitting on a park bench, all the stray cats were flocked around you as you handed treats out to each of them. He saw you every day doing the exact same thing, and it was always the same cats. He had overheard you talking to the cats in a soft sweet voice as you passed out the treats. He decided that he would join you one day after watching you do this for two weeks. (It took him that long to build up the courage to talk to you. Silver Wolf is good with the blade but not with the words with woman.)

You were shy, slightly awkward, your cheeks would turn the most beautiful shade of pink whenever he sat next to you, and the blush wouldn’t fade until he left. The two of you bonded, conversations went from the cats that you were feeding, to personal lives, dreams and wishes.

You had been dating for about five months, and he still thought you were just as stunning as the first day he saw you. You were still shy and soft spoken, the dictionary definition of pure innocence. He’d come visit you after work, and his eyes would light up, seeing you curled up on the couch with your cats, Mochi, Mimi, and Mogi, watching funny cat videos on your tv.

Your cheeks would still turn a bright red whenever you’d see him, covering your face with your hands to hide your smile. You were just too much, you had to be protected at all costs. In his eyes you were the most precious thing on the earth, next to cats.

He didn’t think you were weak, he just thought that you were too sweet to put up a fight, and he always feared that you would end up in a bad situation because of your sweetness, it would be taken as weakness by people who could take advantage of you and you’d get hurt.

You were walking to your spot one afternoon, meeting up with the local stray cats to hand out their daily treats when you saw a group of men surrounding one. They were throwing things at the little ball of fluff, and they had it circled so it couldn’t run away. Your heart sank, but you saw red. Your fists were balled up, and you stomped over to where the men were standing around, laughing at the tiny creature in the center. You swing at one of the men, hitting him square in the jaw. He staggered back as the other men started shouting at you. You seemed to black out, not remembering anything but throwing punches, kicking and scratching these men who found it somehow amusing to torture a poor defenseless animal.

When the cops showed up you were sitting on the bench, the cats surrounding you as you fed them their treats. Your knuckles were red from the hits and you had blood from one of the men under your nails from the scratches. There were tiny blood splatters on the ground from the man who’s nose was bleeding. They were standing around, glaring at you as they explained to the cops “what happened”.

“May I ask something?” You called to the cop who was questioning the men. He sighed and walked over to you, nodding for you to continue. “Would you be able to get in touch with the Armed Detective Agency Director, Fukuzawa Yukichi?”

“I’m sorry, this is no case for the ADA ma’am.” The cop said, turning back to the men to continue his questions. You sighed and pulled out your phone, calling Fukuzawa yourself. He came as soon as possible, eyeing the scene in horror. He saw the blood on the ground and ran over to you to make sure you weren’t hurt.

“What happened?” He asked you in a hushed voice. The cop eyed him, confused about the presidents interest in such a minor situation.

“They were messing with the kitten. I couldn’t let them do it.” You said, and he nodded.

“So you’re not hurt?” He asked, just to be sure that you were alright.

“I’m fine. Are you mad that I fought them?”

“Of course not. I’ll handle this.” He was serious as ever when he walked over to where the cop was standing, jotting down notes on a notepad. You couldn’t hear him, but his mouth was moving quickly as he motioned his hands between you, the men, and the cats on the ground in front of you.

Fukuzawa took you away from the area before you could figure out what happened to the men. He was quiet as the two of you walked down the street towards the agency building, but once you got inside and into his office his questions were endless.

“I didn’t know you could fight.” “When did you learn how to do that?” “Why did you never tell me you could fight like that?” “Are you sure you’re not hurt?” “It’s just so strange, I never would have thought you had it in you. You’re sure you don’t have an ability?”

“I’m sure. I’m fine. I didn’t learn how to do it, I didn’t even know I could fight like that. I just got really mad, and I blacked out and it happened.” You explained, your voice soft and sweet, your hands folded in your lap, your eyes wide and doe like, it made it hard for him to believe that it was you who beat the hell out of the men.

“Well, I’m proud of you, for defending the cat. Try to stay out of situations like that though, I don’t want you getting hurt. Alright?” He said, trying to stay serious, but when you smiled at him he couldn’t help but smile back.

He never brought up what happened, not around you at least. He talked about it with everyone at the agency. “Welcome Y/N, Defender of Stray Cats!” Dazai would call out whenever you walked in the door. Fukuzawa would just roll his eyes, but secretly he found it even more adorable, your little nickname. He even started using it.

You were Y/N, Defender of Cats, and he absolutely adored you.

Mori

Being Mori’s s/o meant watching Elise way more than you usually had when you were just his intern at the Port Mafia. She became something like your daughter, even though you knew she was just Mori’s ability, you absolutely adored her, and she loved you. Your almost motherly love towards Elise made Mori’s heart sore, he absolutely loved both you and Elise more than anything else.

He often watched you and Elise from his desk, you laying on your stomach on the floor coloring with Elise, talking about anything and everything that kept her interest. You would let her play with your hair, or put makeup on you. Mori enjoyed watching these moments between you and Elise. Your heart and your soul were so pure, he often wondered how you managed to get mixed up with the Port Mafia, somehow ending up with the boss of the organization. Everyone there had blood on their hands, their hearts and souls were tainted with the blood and carnage they had caused, you were like a bright light that shines brighter than anyone else there.

You’d often come into the office with gift wrapped boxes, laying them all in front of Elise before making your way over to Mori’s desk, standing behind him as he sat in his chair. He and you would both watch Elise open her gifts, and then you’d spend the rest of the day playing with the new toys you had bought her.

“You are so kind to my dear Elise, I’m so glad that we both have you.” Mori would often say, calling you over to him, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You never struck him as a violent person, especially when compared to the other members of the Port Mafia. You were sweeter than sugar, Mori’s complete opposite when it came to feelings, morals, values, sympathy... everything. He wouldn’t change anything about you though, you were the contrast in his life that he didn’t know he needed. He cherished you like a fine jewel, he would happily murder anyone that tried to take you away from him.

Mori, Elise, and you were out shopping one afternoon, it was kind of like a family day, at least that’s how you labeled it. He couldn’t help the wide grin that was plastered on his face, seeing you walk down the street a couple steps ahead, holding Elises hand as you window shopped. You’d point out little things that caught your eye, smiling down at Elise when she picked out something that she liked, he knew she would most likely have it the next day.

“I’m going to step in here for a second.” Mori said, walking into a clothing store to pick new dresses for Elise. She was dragged in by him and you decided to stay outside, knowing that if you went in you’d come out with double the dresses.

It was a nice afternoon, which is why you were completely shocked when a group of thugs cornered you, backing you up into a side alley. It was a dead end, you didn’t know what to do.

“Port Mafia garbage.” One of the thugs mumbled as he pulled out a switchblade. Your gulp was audible, and your entire body was shaking with fear.

“Your boss will be here soon, we’ll just keep you until then.” Another thug said, his arms crossed as he seemed to be enjoying the look of terror on your face.

Soon fear turned to worry, they were planning on hurting Mori... you couldn’t let it happen. “Please, I only have a little bit of money, but you can have it. Let me go.” You said, reaching into your purse. Your fingers brushed against the metal, it was the scalpel that you had saved in your purse. Mori has given it to you as a way to think of him, and at the time you were confused by the item, never finding a need for it, but he must have known something like this would happen. You silently thanked yourself that you hadn’t taken it out of your purse, until now.

You quickly pulled it out, moving too fast for any of the men to notice. You swiped it across the closest mans throat, the blood shot out onto your face. You were swift, finishing off the rest of the thugs in what felt like only a couple seconds. They all had their throats slit before they realized what was happening, they didn’t have time to run or scream. They didn’t even have time to think about what was happening before they were on the ground, choking on their own blood or bleeding out.

You stared wide eyed at the scene in front of you, dropping the scalpel to the ground by your feet. You couldn’t seem to move your eyes from the bodies that were strewn across the ground, the gurgling gasping breaths from one of the men seemed to echo in the empty alleyway.

“Oh my, someone is going to have to clean this up.” Your head whipped up at the sound of Moris voice. His eyes were glued to you, a grim smile on his face. The blood that was splattered on your face reminded him of himself when he murdered the president of the port mafia. In this moment you reminded him of himself, and he couldn’t be prouder.

“They were going to hurt you, I couldn’t let that happen.” You whispered, but Mori wasn’t listening. He just wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever received from him.

“I’m so proud of you, my sweet sweet darling. You’ve done well.” He murmured into the top of your head.

He couldn’t get over the fact that you wiped out three grown men with just a scalpel, he couldn’t believe it. He knew you didn’t have an ability, but it didn’t stop him from thinking that you would make a great addition to the Black Lizards.

You weren’t as innocent as he believed, but that just made him adore you even more. You were an angel, his crazy angel.

[multishippers-trash-blog]

Big Red

warnings; none, cussing, slight implication of smut?

Hi!! I wrote this because I honestly LOVE this big man and I used to drink this drink called ‘Big Red’ all the time when I was a kid! I wanted there to be a part two because I thought it was getting a little long but this is for my favorite thirst writer on here- @lady-bakuhoe​ !

It’s summer time! Time to put our hats on backwards and to fucking party- Its the last year for class 4-A and they wanted to instead of going to the summer camp, they all raised enough money to get to America! How would a particular Red Riot react to his Crush calling him “Big Red” on accident? 

It was a hot summer day for the class of 4-A students. Not a single breeze to blow their sweat or even a cloud to block the sun. The entire class having voted on a summer school trip to instead of going to the summer training camp for their seiner year before graduating and going out into the hero world- They instead wanted to go to America! See all the pretty things and all the heroes working there and most importantly-

“Hey guys! I found the soda section!” Sero shouted out from isle nine in the grocery store. As of the moment? They were supposed to be meal prepping for the next week, making sure they had brought and exchanged enough money but Todoroki insisted if no one had enough, he was willing to use his fathers credit card to pay for their entire meal plan plus more.

“Sero! Where are you!?” Mina shouted back from isle two, wondering where her friend was so that they could get a good look at the sodas too. (Y/N) was there too with Mina, having dragged them along to check out the cool spicy snacks they would have in the chip isle. “Oooo! (Y/N), check this out! FLAMIN HOT FUNYUNS! I wonder what a funyun is…” Mina spoke out as she looked at the bag. “Oh! Or even this delicious looking bag of-“ Yet, her words were dulled out by (Y/N) who was just absorbed in their little world.

(Y/N) was a peculiar student. With a not-so ordinary quirk. To say at least! It wasn’t bad but it totally throws peoples head for a loop when they learn about their quirk. What was their quirk exactly? The name was called ‘Shadow Targets’, to put it lightly when (Y/N)’s shadow gets attached to another shadow, they can feel the strongest emotions within the heart in the moment; Love, Anger, Envy, Jealousy, and Sadness. They’re the talker and if they cannot get the villain to stand down, they know the weakest point in how to take them down without too much damage to the surrounding area. Yet, with this quirk, it always seemed to pair up well the famous gentleman in the class. The redheaded beast of a gentleman who’s thighs could crush your head if they wanted to. Eijirou “Fuck me until you’re the only thing in my mind and coming out from my mouth” Kirishima. (Y/N) was the peace maker while Eijirou was the enforcer. Good Cop and Bad Cop. The distraction and the attacker.

The male had certainly gotten bigger. By bigger the whole class means his entire fucking body. Ever since he went to Fatgum’s agency, he had decided he needed to strengthen his quirk and himself before school ended and so he looked like a pro already. He looked like a beast. Longer hair that was up in a ponytail most of the time now, his horns sticking out to give him his cheeky devil-like persona which gave him the total wrong vibe to others. He was bigger in stature and his muscles just fit him perfectly to make him like a strong competitor that no one wanted to fuck with.

Yet… He was a total sweetheart to the dear (Y/N). Unbeknownst to the clueless (Y/N), this large redheaded beast absolutely had the biggest soft spot for the young and beautiful (Y/N). To their words and how they can keep him lured in a conversation for hours to the small quirks of their body when they’re focused makes him break a blush due to how cute they are. He can’t help it… He’s had the biggest crush on the young doe ever since he laid eyes on them the first day of UA.

“Hey (Y/N)!!” Well speak of the devil. Kirishima raced into isle two, waving a small hello to Mina who just put on that cheesy like cat grin, knowing exactly what to do. “Hey guys!  I’m going to the kids meals to see what type they have! See ya!!” Mina shouted happily as she snatched up a few bags of Hot Cheetos and rushed off with them. That was strange… Usually Mina were excited to greet Kirishima when he just seemed to pop out of no where, yet today it just seemed as if everyone was trying to put them together. Alone. With peering eyes peeking into the isle where the two stood alone.

“Uh.. That was strange- Wasn’t it?” Kirishima questioned out with a small embarrassed chuckle. ‘Damn Mina. Leave me alone without a wing man, why don’t ya!?’ Ejirou scolded in his head as he let out a small huff and glanced down to the confused looking (Y/N). ‘No time to delay Eijirou! Woo her before this trip ends!! But the grocery store… ‘ He seemed to just glance around to shoppers talking, kids screaming and cashiers looking like they wanted to just keel over and pass out due to the usual Karen screaming about how there wasn’t enough fresh apples for her apple pie that needed thirty apples. Why thirty? Who knows. ‘This isn’t a good spot to confess your undying love to the person of your dreams-‘ His thoughts were cut off by a certain hand coming up to his face and giving a clear and loud snap.

“Eijirou? You okay? You seem stiff. Are you homesick?” (Y/N) asked out worriedly as they pulled the larger man down to their height and just put their hand on the larger mans forehead. ‘No fever’ they reduced down. “You’re not hot. Too you can’t be sick already.” (Y/N) spoke out and hummed out curiously before just grabbing Kirishima’s hand and taking him down to isle nine where Sero and Denki were happily chatting about which soda to get for the boys night on Saturday night, the night before the flight out of America. Yet, when they caught sight of the red haired man and (h/c) haired woman. The two just seemed to smirk, telling each other they got enough soda and just rushed away from the two coming own the isle. ‘Another strange occurrence. I wonder what exactly is going on…’ (Y/N) seemed to wonder in their head as the stopped at the box that was the same color of Kirishima’s hair. ‘BIG RED’ it was labeled.

“Big Red?” She stated out loud, looking at the box and letting go of Kirishima’s hand and lucky for him, (Y/N) hadn’t noticed the blooming red blush on his face and their shadow hadn’t picked up on his own to hear the internal screaming of his heart. He was panicking. Did (Y/N) just call him Big Red!? Oh god- His dreams were coming true! Not exactly in the prettiest spot to confess his undying love for the young and pretty woman. He was about to open his mouth and saw the box of sodas that (Y/N) seemed to be inspecting and dejection just pricked his fluttery heart and with a loud sigh, all those happy feelings turned down and he just seemed to pull (Y/N) for a hug, whispering down into their ear.

“I know another big red that you might enjoy. Must tastier that American soda and made in Japan.” He seemed to just grumble into their ear. The vibrations of his groveled voice made (Y/N) shudder as her shadow connected to his for a brief second.

Love, Compassion and… Lust-

“We should get going. I’m sure you have everything you need.” Kirishima whispered out softly into (Y/N)’s ear who only blushed darker and nodded slowly.

“My room or yours?”

“I don’t care. I’ll take you here if I need to.”

“Meet me tonight in my room at midnight, don’t be late Big Red~”

[shut-up-merlin]

Hi i saw the prompt list and they are cool and i had a request feel free to deny them darling can you do 39 and 47 for drarry and if it's possible it will be harry who says this sentences to draco thanks sweetheart you can just ignore it❤

So... This got out of hand. I meant to go for a 500 word drabble, since I’d never actually written anything for Drarry before. 

Then somehow I ended up with this 2k chapter, research about the UK juvenile delinquency system and me memorising the map of the London Zoo... Oh and I may have possibly written an outline for three or four more chapters... No joke. I’m not sure if I’ll ever end up finishing it, but I do like how this turned out! Stay tuned ;) 

If anyone else feels like sending me a prompt, the list is here. 

Prompts:

You are safe now. I am here.

At least let me clean it.

.

“Really Potter, staring at the penguins again?”

Harry rolled his eyes. Of course he’d been caught staring at the little dweebs again. And of course it had been the Malfoy prat  who’d found him. 

Harry had interned at the London Zoo ever since he was old enough to apply for a summer job. He adored spending his time around the animals, adored seeing how they all had their unique personalities and little quirks. He’d spent summer after summer cleaning out cages and feeding all sorts of wondrous creatures. Harry volunteered to take up extra shifts whenever he could and would often spend his time around the animals’ enclosures long after he’d been done for the day.

Animals, Harry found, were easier to be around than people. Much, much easier. As if to prove a point, one of the most difficult specimens to have in his vicinity, had just shown up. Harry sighed and turned around.  

“Anything you need, Draco?”

“That’s Malfoy to you, Potter.”

“Sure, Draco, whatever you say,” Harry retorted, trying not to show his amusement at the blond’s scowl.  “You done for the day then, yeah? Need me to sign your papers?”

“Yup. Only twenty more days to go. I’ll be done with this shit.”

“Trust me, I’ve been counting the days, same as you, mate.”

“Not your mate, Potter.”

Harry couldn’t agree more. He didn’t respond and just walked off towards the administration tower. Whether the blonde followed him or not really was none of his concern. Harry badged into the admin tower so he could fill out Draco’s forms.  

COMMUNITY PUNISHMENT AND REHABILITATION, the document read.  

Harry signed his name next to today’s date and checked the necessary boxes. He hesitated when he had to rate Malfoy’s dedication. His hand hovered over the box labelled “adequate” for a moment, but then he ticked “outstanding” instead. Even though the boy was an utter twat, Harry didn’t really feel like putting him in a bad spot. Unlike other kids who had been ordered to perform their community services here by the juvenile court, Draco actually did his job while he was here. He didn’t slack off and was kind to the animals.  

Harry remembered when another boy had been executing a community sentence, a few years prior. They had found out he’d been twisting the warthogs’ tails. They’d kicked him out immediately, but to this day poor Mathilda still didn’t trust anyone who entered her enclosure. Harry wondered what happened to the guy. Nothing good, he hoped.  

“What’s got you frowning, Potter?”

Harry hadn’t realised he was. “Oh, nothing. All done. Here.” He handed Draco a piece of paper to prove he had actually been there today. Draco took it and quickly put it away, before heading towards the door. He turned around to look over his shoulder, his hand already on the door knob.  

“You’ve never asked why I’m here. Everyone else has. Why?”

“It really isn’t any of my business, is it?”  

“Yeah. No. I guess not.”  

If Harry didn’t know any better, he would have sworn the corners of the blond’s lips turned up a little before he left.  

Harry had wondered what had brought Draco here. He didn’t seem like he was looking for trouble. Didn’t make you check if your wallet was still in your pocket whenever he passed you in a corridor either. If Harry didn’t know better, he’d have thought the other boy had walked into the staff room by accident after getting lost during a school trip, really. Sure, he hadn’t actually said anything nice to Harry or any of their co-workers since getting here, but he had been polite to the visitors, which was more than most comm kids, as the staff referred to them.  

Harry glossed over tomorrow’s schedule before gathering his things. Oh, sweet. They’d put him in the Northern part of the zoo in the morning. That meant he’d be on duty when it was time to feed the lions. Harry checked the others’ schedules. Looks like they’d paired him up with two interns. Neville and... Draco. Great.  

Normally they only paired the interns up with regular staff members, but Harry had been here for so long that most of the regulars asked him what to do anyways. Harry loved how much faith the Zoo’s director had showed him over the past couple of years. Minerva never really showed anyone much warmth, but Harry knew she appreciated his work. Just this once, however, he wished she didn’t trust him to do a good job, because it meant he’d have to spend a day listening to the blond prat’s insults. Just great.  

The next morning, Harry’s suspicions were confirmed before he’d even entered the changing rooms. He Malfoy’s sneers from down the corridor. Judging by the stuttering response he got, Harry assumed they had been directed at Neville.  

Harry quite liked Neville. The boy was a bit younger than he was, and it was his first ever summer job. He wasn’t very good at it, though, but Harry blamed it on a streak of bad luck that somehow followed the kid around. Whenever he was hauling around bags of animal feed, one was bound to tear or he’d trip over his feet. A few days ago, when the kid went out for hay for the zebra’s once, a giant spider had climbed out, causing him to drop the bale, leaving straws everywhere.

 It was almost endearing, really, if it hadn’t been for the fact that Neville was a total clutz, so whenever he tried to tidy up the mess he’d unknowingly created, he usually ended up making a bigger one that required Harry or whoever was on duty to help him fix it. Whenever he got nervous, Neville’s clumsiness seemed to amplify. A day with Neville and Draco, Harry thought to himself, would definitely prove interesting to say the least.  

“... managed to teach you how to dress yourself, for crying out loud,” Harry heard when he entered the room, to find Neville attempting to do up the buttons of his overalls. His hands were trembling so severely, he couldn’t quite manage. 

“Good, you’re ready, Draco. We need someone to go fetch the meat from the kitchens. I’ve been told it’s done,” Harry said, in an attempt to get Draco out of here so Neville could calm down a little, at least.  

Draco eyed Harry up and down and left with a knowing smirk on his face. “Whatever you say, Potter. I’ll leave you and your boyfriend to it.”  

Harry rolled his eyes at the pathetic insult and turned towards Neville as soon as Draco had left the room. “Don’t mind him. He’s a twat.”

“Oh, yeah I know. It’s just that he... I don’t really...”

“Whatever he said, don’t pay it any mind. He gets off on tormenting people.”

“I didn’t mean anything by it either,” Neville mumbled.

“What’s that?”

“I... I just asked if he needed some ice or something to put on his bruise. It looked like it hurt.”

Harry shot him a questioning look.

“On his side. He looked like... like he’d gotten beaten up or something.”

They didn’t say much after that. Neville calmed down enough to get dressed and by the time they got outside, Draco had returned with a wheelbarrow full of meat for the big cats. He did seem to favour his left side, Harry noticed.  

Without asking the blonde’s permission, Harry took the wheelbarrow from him. They took the staff’s passageways and followed the arrows that read “Land of the Lions”. None of them said a word. Neville fumbled with the sleeves of his overall on the way there.  

Neville didn’t trip on the way to the enclosure. He didn’t push over any garbage bins, didn’t lose a shoe or walk straight into a bush instead of taking a turn. Harry should have known, honestly. He should have known that just meant Neville’s bad luck was saving itself for something big later on.  

And it did.  

Harry, Draco and Neville stood on the platform overlooking the Land of the Lions, where they fed the lions their breakfast. Harry did, rather. The others weren’t allowed this close to the platform’s edge.

Harry was about halfway through the wheelbarrow’s contents when he noticed one of the hams Draco had brought was still wrapped in plastic. “Neville, hand me a pair of scissors, will you,” Harry mumbled under his breath, so the spectators couldn’t hear.  

Harry shouldn’t have asked him.  

In hindsight, Harry probably should have asked Draco. Or he should have gotten up and grabbed the scissors himself. Or he should have just tossed the ham in, plastic and all. 

But that’s not what happened.  

Harry had asked Neville to hand them to him. And Neville did, only to trip over his feet on his way back. He tumbled over, his limbs going in every direction... until his leg hit Draco in the back of his knee. The boy lost his balance.

And fell. 

Harry didn’t realise the scream he heard was his own, when he saw Draco fly over the edge of the platform. The loud crash was followed by the screams of the spectators.  

“Draco, the ladder!” Harry shouted, already dashing towards it himself.  

He leaned over the edge only to find Draco was having trouble hoisting himself up. His left side had been hurt, Harry remembered, when he saw how the boy tried to pull himself up on the ladder using only his right arm. He had a gash in his forehead, Harry noticed. Blood was running over his cheek onto his overalls.  

The lions had been startled by their unexpected visitor, but Harry could tell by the way the lionesses started to circle around to where Draco was, that it wouldn’t take long before they’d get over the surprise.  

“Fuck it. I’m an idiot,” Harry muttered to himself, when he swung his leg over the edge and started to climb down the ladder.  

“Neville, call Dean. Now!” Harry shouted. “Tell him to open the sleeping den and keep his hand on the button so he can close it when we get in.”

Neville looked baffled.  

“NOW!” Harry shouted. He didn’t look back to see if Neville did as he told. There really wasn’t any time.  

Harry hurried down the ladder, straight into the enclosure. His heart pounded between his ears. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.  

When he reached the bottom, he saw Draco was even paler than usual, his grey eyes filled with panic. They didn’t have time for this. “Draco, listen to me. You need to calm down. You’re safe now,” Harry said. “I’m here. But we can’t stay here for much longer. When I tell you to run, you run! Got that?”

Harry assumed the whimper that escaped Draco’s throat meant yes. He grabbed the other boy’s hand and tried to look through the bushes, tried to figure out where the pride’s alpha, Neytiri was. When he saw her, Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, grabbed the nearest rock he could find and threw it at Neytiri as hard as he could. “Run!” he yelled and he dragged Draco behind him. He ran towards where he knew the entrance of the sleeping dens was, praying Neville had reached Adam. Praying that they’d get there before... It was open!  

“Faster!”  

Harry heard a snarl behind him. Neytiri must have gotten over her surprise. Shit.  

Shit!  

They were almost at the den. So close.  

He heard the thuds of lioness’ paws on the ground behind them. Closer. She was closer.  

When they made it to the den, so did Neytiri. Harry pulled on Draco’s arm and dove into it, right as the barrier started to close again. They both crashed into the wall in the back of the den.  

Neytiri snarled and clawed at the barrier.  

Harry manhandled Draco towards the small door in the back of the alcove and almost lost it when he saw it swing open.  

“Neville, thank god,” Harry breathed. “Help me get him to first aid.”

“...’m fine, Potter,” the blonde mumbled.  

“You’re not. You nosedived into a pride of lions, you idiot.”

“...No doctors.”

“Whatever.”

“Harry, please.” Draco squeezed Harry’s hand. Harry hadn’t realised he’d still been holding it. He looked down into the pleading grey eyes and hesitated.

“You’re bleeding, you hurt your head. At least... at least let me clean it?”

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Gotta say, Tumblr giving me nightmares is NOT a good turn of events.

It started out nice enough. I was hanging around with a bunch of friends I met on Tumblr. Obviously this is absurd, as if I’d meet anyone from here in the real world. Heck, when I told real world folks I don’t really use Facebook, but sent a link to my Tumblr not one of them were interested. Tumblr and the real world don’t connect.

Oh, and there was also a guy that was romantically interested in me with us. So clearly this dream wasn’t bothering with reality at all. Guys never even flirt with me, hell, I’ve never even been cat called! ** But dreams are dreams.

Anyway, everyone in the group started talking about something, a tv show, movie, or something. Whatever it was kept shifting. Dreams don’t you know.

The conversation turned to characters and everyone started assigning labels to characters. This character is a “insert label” or this character has “insert label”. 

 Now I was enjoying it at first. I loved that everyone was seeing themselves, ot at least what they needed to see, in these characters. These were characters where things weren’t ever said in the text, or the terminology or society at the time of creation wouldn’t have permitted it, and It was wonderful seeing people adopt them anyway.

Then it started to turn sour. Things like “only way to see it”, “everyone can tell”, “obvious”, “no other way to look at it”, and so forth were being said every other sentence. As far as they were concerned there was a label for each character and no other labels were allowed. 

I got uncomfortable. They saw themselves as being inclusive because they saw the characters as part of an under representative group, but they were excluding anyone else, even of  another under representitive group, that identified with the characters. 

They got to a character very dear to my heart, a character I’d identified with since I was a tiny child. They declared the character was absolutely something or other, I can’t remember what. The label didn’t fit me, but the character always had felt totally me.

So, I did something stupid. Since I was with good friends amd they were happily seeing themselves in the characters, I chimed in too. I said “That’s cool! You know, it’s interesting how we all see things differently. I’ve always seen them as..” and I described the way I’d always seen the character. The list involved a lot of personal characteristics that had made me indentify with the character.

I got shouted at. “NO!!! They are not like that!!!!” “If you can’t see that the character is only (insert label) then you hate people that are (insert label)!!!!!!” “You are trying to steal our character!” “You are obviously just prejudiced!!” “You are wrong! No one can honestly think that!!” “Why do you hate us?” 

I tried to argue quietly. I pointed out I liked them seeing themselves in these characters. It was completely valid, but I saw myself in this character and that should be valid too. I rarely saw someone like me in fiction, so this character had meant a lot. This character had been like a friend to me when I was a kid. 

“People like you don’t deserve friends!” 

And they left me in disgust. The guy said he was disappointed in me and walked away too.

Alone.

I didn’t hate anyone. I figured we all had our own versions of the characters, and mine was the one I needed, like the ones they had were theirs. Mine shouldn’t effect theirs. 

I was sharing because I thought we were friends. 

I thought I counted too.

I don’t belong anywhere.

I woke up crying, which is deeply embarrassing.

But you know, I get why I had the dream. I saw a post on here last night that reminded me of a few years ago when an online friend turned on me for not shipping their fave ship. Then I poked around a few minutes on a message board for a favorite fandom and ran into a lot of “one opinion allowed” kind of thinking. And running into the farmer yesterday reminded me how apart I am from the local community despite living my whole life here. Of course I had that dream.

TBH, it’s the crux of most my problems: I never feel I belong anywhere. 

Once upon a time I thought fandoms would be a way to belong. If only I could just meet someone that liked what I liked I’d have a place. At a child in the pre-internet days I had no real chance. A rumor that someone read comics or finding out someone had actually heard of Doctor Who could briefly stir a bit of hope. Inevitably the comic reader would move away three days after I found out or the person that knew of Doctor Who would have just seen two episodes and thought it was stupid, but it still would feel like a reminder of twinge of possibility. Somewhere out there someone liked the same things I liked, and I’d fit in. 

Funny thing, it never occured to me that if we liked the same thing that liking that thing differently might be a problem. I just figured that the important thing was our shared interest, not the small details of favorite episodes or whether a character made you swoon or cringe. 

The internet seemed a miracle at first. You could live in the middle of nowhere without anyone for miles with a thing in common, but suddenly you could talk to people all over the world. There were fandoms for anything and everything, enthusastist and hobbiests with every passion under the sun. There must be so many places I belong.

Or not.

Turns out that fandoms, hobbies, and the like all have their norms, their general consensus, their proper ways, and so forth. Even the most niche ones, subsets of subsets, tend to have a bit of gatekeeping that ends up making me feel excluded. I can’t even fangirl right because I’ll inevitably interpret something in an atypical way or I’ll latch onto a character “everyone” hates. 

So honestly, I think I need to accept at this point I belong nowhere really. I’m an oddball among oddballs.

 I just have to content myself with being a feral creature wandering a wilderness and watching from the trees as others gather around the campfires. I’d like to think if I approached I’d be adopted as their pet weird monster, but that’s unrealistic. I’ve been chased away and had spears chucked at me too many times. It hurts too much. Alone may not be as fun, but I’ll live. I have so far.

**TBH, I wish I were asexual or something so it wouldn’t be so disappointing to always be ignored. But it’s just the way it is for me...so maybe I’ll get used it. I expect it will only take another 50 years or so! LOL 

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

Or Is This The Way It Ends?

Quarantine ‘Verse, part 1 here part 3

Summary:  Immediately following Would You Be My Little Quarantine?, Blaine talks to his roommate.

Notes: To avoid doom scrolling this election day, I thought I’d offer the gleeks something pleasant to read.  I hope y’all enjoy this follow-up! 

AO3

After leaving the meeting room, Blaine sits back in his chair and sighs. This was how meeting your idol went in your wildest dreams, not in reality. Had they met in person, Blaine is confident he would’ve made a total fool of himself and fallen over his feet to talk to Kurt Hummel. 

He only lets himself smile like an idiot for a few minutes because he really needs to talk to his big brother. Whether or not it will be to yell at him or thank him remains to be seen. At the very least, Cooper had told Blaine there was something important they needed to discuss. 

Blaine: Wrong Zoom ID, doofus

Blaine knows it’ll be a couple of minutes before Cooper answers because even if he’s on his phone when he gets a text Cooper likes to let them ‘simmer.’ Something about not seeming too eager. However, this rule only seems to apply to Blaine and their mother because Cooper answers any call or text from Hollywood in under two seconds. 

While waiting for a text back, Blaine walks to his kitchen and puts the kettle on. He’s becoming a bit of a tea hoarder. Not by his own choice, his roommate hates the taste of coffee and exclusively drinks various teas in the morning and late afternoon. There is an entire cabinet in their little kitchen dedicated to different types and flavors of tea. 

Luckily, even if his blissful state, Blaine has the mind to yell to his roommate that the kettle’s on. 

Charlie shouts from their bedroom, “Be right there.” 

He really lucked out with his apartment. A decently priced two bedroom with a medium-sized kitchen, and a spacious living area. The one downside was only having one bathroom because both roommates loved their primping time. This was mostly solved because Blaine liked to shower at night (to wash out gel and grime of the day) and Charlie used their morning shower as an additional wake-up call. 

Blaine takes two mugs from the cabinet before opening the tea cabinet. Charlie kept all the tea leaves in mason jars which they labeled in washable marker. In this apartment, they only used tea leaves. Most days, Blaine was happy to be a coffee drinker because Charlie wouldn’t say anything about his use of already grounded coffee instead of grinding the beans himself. 

In the time it takes Charlie to join Blaine in the kitchen, the bliss of meeting Kurt Hummel is gone. Blaine’s spent those two long minutes thinking about giving Kurt his number and ‘oh god, what if that was weird and he never calls me.’ 

Charlie looks over Blaine’s shoulder, Blaine moves a little out of the way so Charlie can grab the cinnamon orange tea leaves. 

“This Berry Creme is to die for by the way but it’s always sold out. McNulty’s is just–” 

“–the best. I know. Opened in 1895, tea kept in glass apothecary jars, and just so convenient cause it’s in the West Village near school.”

Charlie gives him a “who pissed in your cornflakes look” look. “Drop the attitude, Anderson.” 

“Sorry, I’m a little stressed.” 

“Was Cooper really that bad today?” they ask. 

“Well, first off, he gave me the wrong Zoom ID so I haven’t talked to him yet.” 

“So, who were you talking to that got you all worked up? Cause, I heard your voice. Unless you started talking to yourself again which is a whole other matter.”

“I only talk to myself when you’re not here.” Blaine huffs. “And I was talking to someone.” 

“Who?” 

“Um, Kurt Hummel actually.”

Charlie’s eyes widen and he spins Blaine’s body around so they’re facing one another. “Excuse me? HOW?” 

“Dumb luck.” Blaine shrugs as Charlie lets go.

“You’re like obsessed with him!” Charlie adds their leaves into a diffuser. “Haven’t you been following his career for like the last five years?” 

The kettle whistles. While Charlie pours water, Blaine turns back to the cabinet to choose a tea.

Blaine rolls his eyes, even though Charlie can’t see, but doesn’t deny his thing for Kurt. 

“Since I saw him as Peter Pan.” 

“Five years ago,” Charlie says. “I listen when you talk, you know.” 

Blaine grabs just regular black tea leaves and shuts the cabinet door. His phone buzzes but Blaine decides to let Cooper’s text ‘simmer’. Give him a taste of his own medicine as it were. 

Charlie hands Blaine a second diffuser this one looks like a cat and hangs on the edge of the cup whereas Charlie’s is a plain silver one. 

“So, what did Kurt Hummel have to talk about with you?” 

“Just get-to-know-you stuff.” 

“Oh,” Charlie draws out the word, their interest piqued. 

“Shush,” Blaine tells them. “It’s no big deal. And I’m stressed cause I gave him my number and he’s never gonna text me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Look at me!” Blaine exclaims. “Why would gorgeous, future Tony winner Kurt Hummel want me? Blaine Anderson who’s very first role on Broadway was postponed.”

“You’re taking credit for the global pandemic now, bold of you,” Charlie comments. 

“He’s all tall and intelligent and funny and so, so, beautiful.” 

“And you aren’t?” Charlie inquires. “Are you not the same Blaine who gets asked out by at least two girls a week…”

“Not true, more like once a month,” 

Charlie ignores this correction. “The Blaine who asked a professor for extra credit because a 93 wasn’t good enough? The Blaine who wore lifts just once on a dare and declared being short was better and proceeded to kick off his shoes and climb on top of the fridge to prove he could reach the cabinets above it? Is that not you in this photo on top of said fridge?” 

Charlie holds their phone out with the photo of Blaine giving the camera two thumbs up and grinning at his accomplishment. 

“And you weren’t even drunk that time!” Charlie adds. 

Blaine blushes. 

“My point being, you’re amazing Blaine and if Kurt Hummel can’t see it...you’ll be like everyone else who meets their idol: elated, slightly starstruck, and reasonably terrified of fucking up but accepting that you can’t date and aren’t likely to meet again.” 

This time Blaine laughs. 

“If you weren’t such a tea snob, you’d be the best roommate in the world,” Blaine replies. 

“Well, nobody’s perfect,” Charlie tells him. “Except Kurt Hummel.” 

Charlie, then, grabs their Star Wars mug and starts heading back to their room. 

“And Blaine,” they say. 

“Yeah?” 

“Call your brother.” 

He grins. “Will do.” 

Blaine situates himself back in front of his laptop and pops his earbuds back in before checking his phone.

Cooper: new id 411-9f9-7623

Blaine: There aren’t any letters in Zoom. I’ll just email you a link.

[nerd2614]

April’s Fall - Part 4

Doors, Vials & Names

@write-it-motherfuckers​ original prompt

Part 1 // Part 3 // Part 5

You did not sleep well that night. There was tension in the air so thick you could almost taste it. The lump that the pouch of tools made in your already uncomfortable mattress didn’t help either. Grandmother’s rattling around in the kitchen jolted you out of your restless slumber when the sun had barely risen. She only woke up this early when she needed to fetch things from the woods. It would be the perfect opportunity to investigate without being caught. The dull thud of the door announced her departure. When you were sure she wouldn’t return, you made your way carefully downstairs to the door.

Hopeful, you twisted the handle to the door, but was unsurprised when it didn’t budge. The door itself was made of sturdy wood; it would be too difficult to just break it down. The door lock was not dissimilar to the front door. You tried your key and was only slightly disappointed when it didn’t work either.

You fished out the tools given to you and laid them on the ground. They were of much better quality than the ones you had purchased from the blacksmith. Hazy was the only way you could describe them. It almost looked like you could reach through the tools, but they were solid. Magic. You picked up a long tool with ridges along the edge and another that had a slight hook. With a deep breath, you jiggled them around in the lock and hoped for the best.

The door shimmered as the pins fell into place and the lock clicked open. You slipped the tools back into the pouch carefully. Taking a deep breath, you nudged the door open. A chill rushed out of the room. You felt ill. An eerie green light coming from deeper in was the only source combating the foreboding darkness of the room. The darkness seemed to ooze out the door to settle heavily in your bones.

“Definitely not a cloak closet.” You mumbled. As you flicked on the dim light the darkness slowly retreated to reveal shelves lined with an assortment of books and jars. A cold feeling washed over you as you stepped over the threshold. The soft green light glowed from symbols both painted and carved into the room. They covered the roof and large wooden shelves. You walked further into the icy room and it seemed to stretch on forever. The stone was icy cold beneath your feet. You took a closer look at one of the jars and gagged. Inside was a shriveled, severed hand with the fingernails torn off.

The room radiated death and evil. You started to back out of the room when a table through the bookshelves caught your eyes. Sitting on the table was the small vial of swirling clouds. You were certain it was the same one that the kindly old man had given you. With a strengthened resolve you strode towards the table. The tools you purchased from the blacksmith were sitting on the pouch they came in. Various other items were scattered on the bench. You could only guess at their purpose.

What could only be described as a cauldron was sitting on a bed of emerald flames to the right of the table. Inside was a simmering clear liquid. You lent down to take a closer look when the notes behind it caught your attention. The board was littered with diagrams, scribbled notes and photographs.

“Getting suspicious… measures to be introduced ...up the dosage… what?” You stepped closer to the board. The notes were about you! The liquid in the cauldron must be what your grandmother had been giving you. You skimmed over the rest of the notes quickly to discover exactly what it was. Memories were mentioned a few times but the exact purpose of the clear liquid wasn’t explicitly written.

A deep feeling of dread filled you as you continued to read the messy scrawl. ‘Inject while sleeping’ followed by a number of question marks made you thankful that you hadn’t been sleeping well.

Shouts from outside broke you from your thoughts.

You turned and bumped against a shelf that looked like it had ingredients stacked in it. The stench radiating from the shelf made you want to pull away but morbid curiosity pulled you closer. Eyeballs, pointed ears and various small animals were floating in jars. There was a vial of powder labelled fairy wings. On the bottom shelf was a beating heart the size of an adult wombat. The slow thumping of the heart was sending shivers through you.

Your eyes darted to the door as the shouting from outside abruptly stopped. Heavy footsteps made the floor creak as someone barged into the house. You could hear the front door slam against the wall. Whoever had barged in was breathing loudly and raggedly. As the footsteps came closer, you dove behind one of the shelves and attempted to control your breathing.

The brief hope that the intruder was your stranger was dashed as the person let out a dark chuckle from the doorway. You curled in on yourself, forcing your body to become as small as possible. Your breaths were coming in shallow bursts. You could feel your blood thrumming through your fingertips as you clenched them tighter. The person stepped inside the room and closed the door.

“Tsk, tsk. Now you’re trapped.” The person, a young man, spoke mockingly. “You know that curiosity killed the cat… but don’t worry. I’ll do my best to convince the old bat to let you live.”

He stepped forward slowly, in time with the thumping of the detached heart in your line of sight. Thump. Thump. Thump. He was walking towards the table. You debated making a run for it but your body was too tense to move.

Through the shelf you saw the young man pick up the vial from the table. He scoffed as he slipped it into his pocket. “I’m surprised you didn’t take it already, April. I would have if I was in your position.”

He turned and smirked at you through the shelves. Cold tendrils of fear mingled with the recognition that flooded through you at the sight of his face. It was the new librarian. Your wrists ached in remembrance while your mind raced with questions. His smirk turned sadistic as he rose from his crouched position.

You scrambled against the stone to dart away as he calmly walked around the bookcase. You almost made it to the door when he caught you. He spun you into the wall, winding you. The shelves and the pouch pressed uncomfortably into your back.

“Get off me! Let me go!” Shuddering breaths rocked through you as you tried in vain to squirm away.

“No.” His rancid breath paralised you as much as his response. You continued to struggle, albeit weakly, against his painful hold. “You’re just too stubborn, aren’t ya? Always were.” He added with an almost fond tone. It made you gag.

You heard a female voice outside along with the voice that was shouting earlier. Now he was almost screaming, though you couldn’t make out any words. The librarian pinning you down chuckled sinisterly, “Looks like the old bat is home.”

He looked down at you with cruelty in his blue eyes. “Alas, fair April, I must go tend to a stray.” He tried to kiss you, but you dodged out of the way. His lips burned against your cheek, leaving you feeling dirty. He tutted and threw you to the ground. “Stay here. That’s a good girl.”

The slamming of the door jolted you out of your daze. Escape was the only thought racing through your mind. You creaked open the door to see what was happening.

Just outside the front door, your grandmother and the librarian were conversing. Your elven stranger was hanging limp in the air. Ruby red blood made its way in rivulets down his face and through his hair, dripping onto the ground. Your grandmother looked strangely calm covered in blood. She almost looked bored. You froze as your grandmother made eye contact with you. The elven man crashed into the ground, a deadweight, as your grandmother stalked towards the house. You saw him twitch as the librarian kicked and taunted him.

The only way to put distance between you and the evil being that was your grandmother was to escape upstairs. So escape you did. You scrambled up the stairs like hounds were after you and rushed into your room. The rose was lying where you had left it last night. It was slightly rumpled and the black was quite obvious now but holding it slightly eased the fear building inside you. You clutched it to your chest as your grandmother strode into the room.

“G-get away.” You stumbled backwards. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Oh, pumpkin. What’s the matter?” She smiled sweetly.

“I found the room. What was it for? What were you doing to me?” The questions tumbled out before you could stop them.

Your grandmother kept her smile as she walked deliberately towards you. “Everything I did was to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You repeated, gobsmacked. “I don’t believe that at all! You and - and your weird rules.” You eyed the woman who claimed to be your grandmother as you backed towards the window. You made a quick calculation in your head. The room wasn’t that high, you could survive the jump. It would hurt, but if you just get away -

“Don’t do it, April.” She took a step towards you. Something crackled between her fingers and you made your decision. You turned and dove out the window.

The fall was quick and so was the memory that flashed behind your eyes.

“Come on, April! Don’t worry! I’ll catch you!” I saw the stranger with pointed ears standing in front of me. His hair was shorter than I was used to. The king made him cut it while the other courts were visiting.

I hesitated as I stood on the window sill. I looked back to see someone at the door. Adrenaline pumped through me as I jumped, dress billowing. I landed in his safe arms, though he pretended to drop me. I punched his shoulder without malice and he shook me with his laughter.

The scene dissipated as you were jolted by a surface softer than the ground. The arms that caught you did not belong to your stranger but were familiar for a different reason. You clawed at his face and he dropped you with a curse. With muted satisfaction you noted the blood welling under his right eye before darting away.

The blond man’s grip crushed both your wrist and hopes of escape. A gasp of pain escaped you as tears formed in your eyes. He pulled you in close by the neck so you couldn’t attack him.

“I can’t let you escape me again.” He crooned into your ear. You shivered as his blood dripped down your neck. “You should have just run the first time but now I’ll torture you both.”

He shifted your struggling form into one arm. You stilled as he pulled out the vial from his pocket. He shook it lightly in front of your face. “Aw, you want to know what this is for?”

“Don’t.” Came the commanding voice of your stranger, gruff and hardened. He was on the ground, covered in mud and using his sword to prop himself up. Blood made his ascent difficult but he struggled to a standing position.

You tried to call out to him but the man’s hold on your neck tightened, making spots appear in the peripherals. He ignored the struggling elven man in favour of taunting you further.

“It’s easier for you if you don’t remember… but it’s more fun for me this way.” He tore out the cork with his teeth and tipped the swirling cloud down your throat. You weren’t sure whether it was the potion or lack of oxygen as your sight started to fade.

A name was on the tip of your tongue as you called out to the stranger trying helplessly to reach you. “R-”

Next

@scuzmunkie @wordsaremylife @luarinne @inuhuffclaw @wayward-demigod

[fangirl-1523]

Cherry Bomb: Chap. 1

For clarification, Milven is purely platonic and events from Stranger Things 3 did not happen, such as Jim Hopper's death and the Byers and Eleven moving away.

June 14, 1985

"Roth... Roth...." the voice of Mike Wheeler said coming from the comm.

[Y/N] groaned and picked it up. "What you want, Blackbird?"

"You want to come over and play some D & D? With the rest of the party? Over." He asked.

[Y/N] [L/N] had lived next to the Wheeler family since she was five. Her family had moved there for a change of pace as it was a small town and very different from Indianapolis. She and Mike had grown up as window neighbors.

"But my elvan archer will die! It's happened every time. So much for me trying to be a female Legolas. Over."

"Then, bring your other characters. I know you created like twenty, so you can continue on playing with us for ten hours. Over." He told her.

[Y/N] could faintly hear the sound of snickers and giggles from the other end followed by the normal "Shut up!" from Mike. She sighed to herself.

"What will I be getting out of this again? Over."

"Time with the greatest people you have ever known? Over." Mike paused before adding. "We have food. Blackbird out."

"I'll be there in a minute. Roth out." [Y/N] put the comm down and left the room.

She didn't hear the endless teasing from Eleven, Max, Lucas, and Dustin. Or any of what Mike said in retaliation of their teasing and mochery. Instead, while that was going on, she hopped down the stairs to her mom. At the moment, it was just [Y/N], her mom, and her cat at the house (her parents were seperated, but they both liked the small town life of Hawkins, Indiana).

"Hey, momma, can I go over to the Wheeler's right now? Mike invited me over to play Dungeons & Dragons with the party." She asked finding her mom in the kitchen baking some deserts.

"Sure, sweetie. Just be back by six. You're father will be over here to pick you up for the weekend." Her mother, [Mother Name], replied.

It was the Friday after school let out for the summer and the first thing the party wanted to do was play Dungeons & Dragons. Of course some people (Max Mayfield) resented that notion seeing as it was summer which meant no more school and some more beach.

"Okay. Love you! Bye!" [Y/N] kissed her mom's cheek and zoomed out the door to her neighbors house.

She knocked on the door and Nancy opened the door for her. The upcoming senior at Hawkins High sighed before allowing the young girl that hadn't been involved with anything weird yet into their house. One thing the party, Jim Hopper, Joyce Byers, Nancy Wheeler, Jonathon Byers, and the Scoup Troop all agreed on was to leave the girl out of it. Out of all of it. [Y/N] went down towards Mike's basement where she found the boys setting up the pieces at the table and the girls were setting up snacks such as chips, some bite sized deserts, and soda.

"Hi, [Y/N]." Eleven said.

"Hi, El." [Y/N] said coming over to the two girls.

"[Y/N], which character are you playing?" Mike said looking through the folder labeled [Y/N]'s characters.

"Uh... actually... I wanted to try to be... a... uh..." then the girl mumbled what she wanted to do.

Max Mayfield and Eleven smirked (as they had heard what she said). Dustin Henderson asked for her to speak up, so they could hear her. All they got out of her was a smear of red across her face. Now that the boys were staring at her and her two only female friends were smirking, she instantly regretted every decision she had ever made.

"You know what? Just forget it. I'll use my elva-."

"She wants a chance as Dungeon Master, but she is too nervous to say anything to you four." Max said cutting her friend off.

[Y/N] tried to cover her face with her hands as she waited for the laughter to come right afterwards. It was a stupid idea. A stupid, silly thing to suggest she do. Way to make a fool out of you, [Y/N]. the [H/C] haired girl thought to herself before shying away from her friends.

"Since when do you know how to be Dungeon Master?" Dustin asked as he and Lucas sneakily (not that sly though) glanced over at Mike.

"It can't be that much difficult than putting on shows with action figures and dolls while my little cousins intervene about what the different characters could do." And Mike taught me.

"I say we give her a shot. I'm tired of doing the same thing ever single time." Max said.

"We don't do the same thing every time!" Lucas retorted back at his girlfriend.

"It's the same thing, but different outcomes based on the die roll." Eleven agreed.

"Just let her be dungeon master, guys. For one day. I actually want to see where she'll go with it. I'll just be a Gnome Thief." Mike told them.

"I don't have a problem with that." Will Byers added making his first statement in the conversation.

"Go on, [Y/N]." Dustin said glancing at the seat next to Mike. "You can sit there."

[Y/N] didn't see the glare Mike sent Dustin as she sat down in the seat. Eleven and Max got some food before sitting down.

"So, are we ready?" she asked them.

"Yeah. Let's see what you got." Lucas told her.

"To be clear, this is going to be totally -."

"Just start already, [Y/N]." Mike interrupted her. "Yes, we're well aware this is 'Geek Improv'."

Eleven looked from Mike to [Y/N]. As soon as she started to go to school with the party, she met [Y/N] almost as soon as she stepped into the door. And instantly, she understood why Mike hadn't been able to return her feeling. And now, watching the two of them, it reminded Eleven of why that was. Time passed and they all realized how much more involved she was with the details than Mike was and they all knew the adventure they were on was all sprouted from her mouth like bullshit. Because it was. She was making it up as she went along.

"You have reached the end of your quest. But your quest is not over. Instead, one of your party members carries a dark secret. One of them is actually the Great Darkness that vows to shrall the land in eternal night. You hear the cackle of what sounds like the Wicked Witch of the West Hehehe! As the sound bounces off the walls of the cave, you wonder where and who the sound is coming from. But it's too late. Your hear it say 'It's too late for you. Hehehehe!' And the voice is coming from-."

"[Y/N]," Karen Wheeler, Mike's and Nancy's mom, said walking down into the basement, "your mom says your dad is waiting for you. Time to go."

Karen Wheeler went back upstairs and Dustin leaned over to Mike, "Since when does your mom come down here?"

Mike simply shrugged. "Can we finish this really quickly?"

[Y/N] shook her head getting up from her seat. "Sorry. Dad's impatient as it is, and we're supposed to go to Chicago for the weekend. I'll be back Wednesday though. We can finish it then. Have a good weekend, Blackbird. Fellow geeks." She saluted them.

"Bye, Roth. Have fun with your dad." Mike said as she went back up the stairs.

"Dude!" Max exclaimed once she was out of earshot.

"What?!" Mike fired back.

"Do you two really have to act like that?" Max asked him.

"Like what?" he asked her.

"Like that! Two love sick idiots. Why don't you just ask her out?" asked Max.

"He can't."

"He's tried."

"Countless times."

"Failed countless times."

"Stuck in the friend zone, is he." Dustin said in the voice of Yoda.

"He's not that stuck. She likes him back. Right, El?" Max asked looking at her female friend for assistance.

"She does." Eleven nodded her head in agreement. "Just ask her out."

"Do it. When she comes back." Max told him.

"Jeez, okay, I will." Mike told him.

Wednesday came, and he commed [Y/N]'s radio. "Roth... Roth... Roth...."

No answer. Usually she would pick up after the second or third Rorh, but silence filled the radio. He tried again thinking her mom may have cleaned up her room while she was away (it has happened before). Silence.

"[Y/N], you there? Blackbird here ... trying to talk to you. Over." Silence.

This was weird. It was strange. Even when she was angry with him, she never metaphorically left him on read. She would radio in that she was angry and didn't want to talk and there would be a "I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU! I HATE YOU!" followed afterward that she didn't really mean. And that's when he heard shouting, yelling, and screaming from next door. It sounded like her parents.

Mike got out of his basement and along with his family and the rest of the street watched the scene play out between [Mother] and [Father] who hadn't spoken or saw one another in months.

"What do you mean you lost her? She was here yesterday! She called telling me she was back in Hawkins!" [Mother] yelled.

"I went to get food, and then she's gone! I checked everywhere for her! She's not here! And I'm pretty sure she didn't go back to Chicago! So, yeah I lost her! But I didn't lose her OKAY? She's missing! Gone! And it's not my fault! Dear god, why would you think it was my fault?" [Father] yelled back.

"It wouldn't be the first time you thought that." [Mother] mumbled before shouting, "If you didn't lose her, then help me find her! Help me find my daughter! Before something awful happens to her!"

[Y/N] was missing? Mike looked over at Nancy who was looking at him back. They both knew that the Upside Down had a part to play in the disappearance of [Y/N] [L/N].

What Netflix Original would the characters of Stranger Things watch the most often?

Eleven - Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (Eleven would compare the events of her life to Sabrina's events in her life when they are sorta similar)

Mike - Orange is the New Black (gives me Mike vibes)

Max - Sex Education (gives me Max Mayfield vibes)

Will - A Series of Unfortunate Events (i feel like he would have read the books in elementary school, so he felt obligated to watch the show)

Lucas - Lost in Space (i didn't know what to pick for Lucas, so I just picked something random)

Dustin - Voltron Legendary Defender (Dustin has always given me vibes that he's a cartoon watcher type of TV person)

Steve - Daybreak (gives me Steve vibes)

Nancy - The Worst Witch (this was an accident. Nancy didn't want to watch it, but saw the trailer, thought it was interesting, and watches it afterwards).

Robin - Disenchantment (doesn't it just scream Robin at you?)

Jonathon - You (he would have heard about it from Nancy who wanted to watch it and he got hooked)

Joyce - Santa Clarita Diet (funny zombie humor)

Hopper - The Crown (this would have started off as something that both Hopper and Eleven watched together as a sort of father-daughter show or whatever, but he got hooked really, really fast)

[megabadbunny]

Cosmic Love and Monsters (4/?)

"Now don’t you do that,” he says, suddenly stern and very south-London, pouting at Rose in mock admonishment. “Don’t you do that Very Bad Thing. You’ve got to listen to me, I’m the Doctor! I’m a poncy self-righteous twat with my head buried so far up my cobweb-filled arse it’s been centuries since it last saw the light of day!" (sfw version on ff.net; full tags and info on ao3) Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

***

Chapter Four: Fear Him

Cold pain awake hurt

Why

Doctor—

Rose wakes with a gasp, flinching at the ache that flares dully through her head. Icy water drips down her face in rivulets, and she wipes the great fat droplets out of her eyes, gingerly pushing herself up to a sitting position on the couch—

Wait. The couch…?

Confusion mounting with every passing moment, Rose scans the room around her, discerning what little she can in the darkness; it’s that castle-place, still, from the looks of it. Stone meets her eyes at every turn, drapes stretching gently from column-to-column, swaying lazily in the night air, and it’s quiet in here, oh-so-quiet. The softness beneath her legs must surely be plush cushions and yes, the thing behind her is definitely the back of a couch.

She’s in a fancy dress. In a castle. Recovering from a fainting-spell on a fainting-couch. The only way it would be cheesier, she thinks, is if she were chained to a set of train tracks instead.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” drawls a voice somewhere out of the darkness, and Rose jumps. “Sleep well?”

Rose glares at the Doctor—no, not the Doctor, the man from before, that terrible man, pretending to be the Doctor, but how did he have all of the Doctor’s memories, how did he know so much?—and he steps out of the shadows, holding a crystal goblet in one gloved hand. Water drips down the goblet’s sides, splatting loudly onto the floor and the man’s shoes, but he doesn’t seem to notice. His attention is focused solely on Rose. He watches her, his face blank, impassive, eyes blinking just a little too slowly in the dim light, like a lizard. Like a snake.

The Master, Rose remembers, and she shivers.

“Hullo? Master to Rose,” the Master says, waving a hand. “I asked you a question. Do you care to answer?”

“Not really,” Rose replies.

The Master chuckles. “Rude, but then you never were a morning person, were you?”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, I’ve got my ways.” Dipping his gloved fingers into the goblet, the Master draws out a palmful of water and flicks it into Rose’s face. She forces herself not to flinch at the icy-cold deluge. “You’ll find that out soon enough.”

For a half-second, Rose considers making a run for it (or better yet, making a run at him), but she can just see the top of the sonic screwdriver sticking out of his jacket-pocket, and the memory of the pain it caused is still fresh, still raw. Unthinking, she almost raises her hand to the collar sitting heavy on her neck, until she catches the Master’s eyes, watching her patiently, almost gleefully. 

Do it, he seems to be saying. Do something stupid. I dare you.

Rose’s hand falls to her side and clenches stubbornly in her skirts instead.

“Who are you?” she asks sharply, shaking water out of her eyes. “Not your name,” she snaps before he has a chance to reply. “I already know that. I want to know who you really are, and why you’re really imprisoned here, and why you pretended to be the Doctor.”

The Master cocks his head to one side, inquisitive. “Well, aren’t you a curious little kitten?” he laughs.

“You’ve got two hearts, so you must be a Time Lord too, right?” asks Rose, almost speaking to herself, more than him. “But the Doctor said he was the only one left, after the War. How’d you survive?”

“Careful now, darling,” he replies. “You know what they say about cats and curiosity.”

“Enough bullshit. Cut to the chase.”

Tutting in disapproval, the Master shakes his head. “My my my,” he sighs. “What a nasty little mouth you’ve got on you. Surely you’d never say such a thing in front of your precious Doctor. You must know he doesn’t approve of such crude language.”

“We could always call him up and find out for sure.”

The Master barks out a laugh. “That isn’t possible for a variety of reasons, I’m afraid—numero uno being that your Doctor’s more than a little bit dead.”

Suddenly all the hurt in Rose’s body feels very far away. A vision of a gurney and a still hand floods her memory; she fights to keep her face calm and composed as panic surges in her chest, strangling her. A strange buzzing sound fills her ears like a nest of angry-buzzing wasps.

She is very, very cold.

Rose forces herself not to shiver. “I don’t believe you,” she says calmly.

The Master grins a Jack-o-Lantern’s smile. “You should.”

“No,” Rose replies with a sharp shake of her head. “If he was dead, you would said he didn’t approve. You said he doesn’t.”

“Well, I never!” says the Master gleefully. “Turns out you’ve got some cognitive capacity, after all! What a delightful surprise. Though to be fair, the truth was going to come up sooner or later, anyway. Only a matter of time.”

“So he is alive,” Rose says, relief washing over her.

The Master nods. “For the moment.”

Allowing her eyes to shutter closed, Rose takes just the briefest of moments to thank her lucky stars back home, all the ones that haven’t disappeared yet. “How do you know so much about him, anyway?” she asks. “How did you know who I was, back at the tournament? Just how much do you know?”

Humming thoughtfully, the Master considers for a moment, fingers tapping idly against the cup in his hands. “Nah,” he says, “I’m much more interested in talking about you, pet. Now tell me—” and here he plonks down on the couch next to Rose, ignoring how she shifts as far away from him as she can, “—just what will it take to get you to cooperate?”

“With what?”

“Well, with me, naturally.”

Rose eyes him warily. “Why? What do you want?”

“Just a smidge of your help.” The Master tilts his goblet this way and that, watching the motion of the water inside, as if it’s all terribly fascinating. “Well, that, and a decent cappuccino, but first things first.”

“I’m not helping you off this planet.”

“Nor could you,” the Master replies. “If I haven’t figured out a way off, then you certainly can’t, though it’s cute you thought that was a possibility. No; your assistance will be of a different nature,” he continues thoughtfully. “Something more along the lines of bait and switch, lure and hook, catch and release. Without the release.”

He shoots a sly smile her way. “Something to do with our mutual friend. Something a lot more personal, if you know what I mean.”

Rose shakes her head in confusion, running over his words in her mind. Then it dawns on her. 

“You want to use me,” she realizes aloud, “to get the Doctor here. To steal the TARDIS.” 

“Bingo!” shouts the Master in delight, clapping his hands together heedless of the water that sloshes from his cup. “Right in one.”

Rose stares at him. “You’ve got to be joking.”

“Oh, I very much am not,” the Master says pleasantly. “I can’t get off this planet, but you know what can? A TARDIS. And guess who’s got one of those, along with buckets and buckets of horrendously boring and otherwise useless sentimentalism for a certain blonde and insignificant squalling little beastie?”

“No. No way.”

“Yes. Yes way,” says the Master. “And in another way, really, I suppose I should be thanking you right now. My other plan was to modify your little hopper, use that to get off this rock and track the Doctor down. But thanks to your Stone Age technology and your oh-so-elegant solution of stamping the thing to smithereens, now, we can jump straight to the end goal. No more wasting time looking for him—we’ll bring him straight to us!”

“I’m not gonna help you trap the Doctor,” Rose says loudly.

“Oh, come on. You barely know me—certainly not well enough to know all the reasons why you shouldn’t help me.” The Master pauses, thinking, as he wipes one damp glove on Rose’s skirt. “Granted, there are many, but there’s no reason for you to be so stubborn about it. So why don’t you just cooperate, like a good little girl?”

A harsh laugh. “How about you take this collar off me first?”

“How about you stop wasting my time?”

“Remove the collar or you get nothing.”

“Comply or I’ll kill you.”

“Good luck getting help from my corpse.”

The Master’s eyes flash and for a second Rose is so, so certain he’ll shift, fast as a blink, turning his sonic on her collar again or maybe even ripping it off so he can wrap his hands round her throat, fingers squeeze-squeeze-squeezing the life out of her, but instead he just grins.

That’s…unsettling.

“How about,” the Master muses, pretending to consider, “you give me what I want, or I kill all of your little friends? Hm? The ones you were helping out in the tournament. How about that?”

Rose doesn’t flinch. “They’re all gonna die in the tournament anyway.”

“Ooh, that’s cold!” laughs the Master. “I mean, you’re not wrong, but still. Cold.” 

He taps his chin thoughtfully with the goblet. “I could still kill you, you know. That option is very much still on the table. And what would your Doctor say about that?”

“He’d understand,” Rose replies firmly.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” says the Master, and if Rose didn’t know any better, she’d be tempted to label his tone soft. “But then again, maybe you’re right. So damned noble, the both of you. It’s such a nuisance, really.”

With a sigh, the Master sidles up next to Rose, as if they’re just two friends having a casual chat, mates gossiping about the latest celebrity news or office scandal. It’s a very strange contrast to the collar sitting heavy and cold on Rose’s skin.

“Don’t suppose there’s still any hope of convincing you I’m the Doctor?” the Master asks cheerfully.

“Don’t suppose there is. Didn’t work out the first time you tried.”

“And I tell you, it’s a damn shame, Rose. Just a real damn shame,” says the Master, shaking his head. “What a waste of a performance! I had so much more material. Here, look: Now don’t you do that,” he says, suddenly stern and very south-London, pouting at Rose in mock admonishment. “Don’t you do that Very Bad Thing. You’ve got to listen to me, I’m the Doctor! I’m a poncy self-righteous twat with my head buried so far up my cobweb-filled arse it’s been centuries since it last saw the light of day!”

He bumps Rose’s shoulder with his and the gesture is so reminiscent of the Doctor that Rose has to fight not to dry-heave. “Not too shabby, eh?”

“Positively Oscar-worthy,” Rose replies through gritted teeth.

“Thanks, I thought as much,” says the Master, beaming. “Now, back to my earlier question—because I won’t let up until I get the answer I want, see, so you might as well comply now, before I get bored with you. And as the people on this fair planet can attest, you won’t like me when I’m bored. So what’ll it be, love? Your life, or your Doctor?”

Rose doesn’t reply, just stares stonily ahead.

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” the Master says, heaving a disappointed sigh after several long moments tick by in silence. “Rose, Rose, Rose. A rose by any other name—”

“God, can we get on with the killing already?” Rose groans. “Cos honestly, I’d rather die than have yet another idiot feeding me that stupid—”

He aims the sonic at her collar and pain surges through her body with a nasty shock. Spasming backward, Rose’s head cracks against the wall behind her with a sickening thwack that echoes through the room while stars explode behind her eyelids. Copper-taste floods her mouth as blood wells up from where she bit the inside of her cheek. Her eyes start to water as the shock fades, before the pain sets back in, but it’s a short head start; the pain at the back of her head blossoms through quickly, and hard.

A sound of glass shattering on the tiles and suddenly a set of leatherclad fingers clenches her chin in a steely grip, wrenching her face sideways and forcing her to look the Master in the eyes. Despite herself, Rose gasps at the sudden closeness, the way the Master’s pupils dilate until his irises are nothing but a pool of lightless black.

“Surely by now, you’ve realized that behind this pretty face, I’m a monster,” the Master says, his voice chillingly pleasant for all that his smile is a thin-stretched grimace. “And monsters do bad, bad things to little girls.”

A chill runs down Rose’s spine and brings a violent shudder with it but Rose doesn’t reply and she doesn’t look away, just glares at him with all the hate she can muster, her mouth clenched tight against the swelling blood. You’re not the only monster in this room, she wants to say, but judging by the way he’s clenching the sonic, tightening until the leather squeaks against the casing, more and more as her silence stretches on—oh, leaving him hanging in the quiet is so much better.

“I can break you,” the Master breathes, chest heaving beneath the confines of his tailored suit. “I can break you, and I will, and it will be so, so very easy. And how do you think your beloved Doctor will react to that, hm? What do you think it will do to him, just how much will it tear him up inside, to see the bloody, mangled, twisted husk of a broken and empty thing that used to be the woman he loves?”

Rose spits in his face.

With a dark chuckle, the Master thumbs at the blood and spittle where it landed on the corner of his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the traces left behind. “Iron-deficient,” he says. “You really should consider a daily supplement, sweetheart.”

He pushes off the couch and strides away into the shadows, crystal shards from his dropped goblet crunching beneath his heel. The click of a handle and splinter of light in the semi-darkness let Rose know that he has reached the door.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling; I shan’t be gone too long,” the Master says, pausing long enough to flash Rose a winning smile. “Wouldn’t want you to get lonely. Only be warned: the rest of our conversations might not be so pleasant. Next time you don’t give me what I want? Somebody dies, and they die nasty.”

“My condolences to your widow,” Rose shoots back.

Laughing gaily, as if Rose just told the most charming after-dinner joke, the Master leaves, the door clicking quietly shut behind him, locking afterward. Darkness and blessed silence filter back in, and Rose relaxes just the littlest bit, slumping back against the couch, wincing when her head touches the wall behind her. She doesn’t feel the telltale warmth of blood matting her hair, but she’s definitely bruised back there, probably going to swell, certainly going to hurt for the next few days.

Doesn’t matter. She’ll be fine; she’s had far worse. It won’t stop her from trying to escape. And it certainly won’t change her mind about protecting the Doctor. It doesn’t matter how badly she wants to see him, doesn’t matter how much the longing hurts even worse than the pain splitting the back of her skull. She will not do anything to compromise him. She’ll die first.

It’s what he’d do for her. He’d understand.

He will understand.

Willing her muscles to unwind, Rose lets out a long-trapped sigh, surrendering to the exhaustion that washes over her.

She sleeps.

***

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