#sometimes a bitch just wants to stop thinking and be reduced to a dumb little doll that he gets to fuck and love

[death-in-a-handbasket]

I have respawned to give more jealous Yukito because I literally have no one else to tell this to lmao<3

Yukito loves taking care of you when you’re ill, not that he loves you being sick he just loves taking care of you in different ways. But god does he hate it when that stupid, good for nothing, waste of hair came to YOUR house, he had so many questions. Why does a “random” guy know your address? What if he tries to break in? Why did he bring flowers? Why doesn’t he realize he interrupted the two of you? Why did he even know you existed he doesn’t deserve to know a beauty like you existed??? oh great he’s talking to you, why is he so close? Omg he’s practically spitting on you! (He was 5 feet away.) why is he hugging you? Oh HES the one who’s going to get sick you say? Bitch please he’s the one making YOU sick by being in the same city as you. Does he even know what 358 - 285,883 x 666 + -182.7 > 824 x 528,925 is??? Probably not he looks extremely unintelligent. Oh you don’t know the answer either? Well sweet angel you don’t count silly, you shouldn’t busy yourself with finding answers to some dumb mathematics equation! You’re way too perfect for that. Oh he’s finally leaving?? Thank god. Now he can go back to fucking you until you can’t think of nothing but him, until you admit you’re nothing but his dumb doll. Honestly, skipping hanging out with your friends by pretending to be sick just so you can get fucked by him all day? How adorable.

.💀 anon

I woke up to get ready to haul ass to class and while I was laying in bed I read this and got butterflies at nine in the god damn morning. fucking YEESH man. 😳🫣

this shit got my fucking dumbification kink acting up man, I fucking would drop every social obligation JUST to be railed and coddled by this man, jesus christ

[rosypenguins]

do you have any milliot hcs?? i love them sm

🌸Omg yes I adore Milliot! Here you go!🌸

🌸They’ve binged MLP together before.

🌸Milly could be the angriest she’s ever been. Shaking and frothing at the mouth with rage Elliot puts a hand on her shoulder and IMMEDIATELY she’s just- “Hi Ellie!! <3” like her entire aggression is just gone.

🌸These two are both so obvious yet so fucking oblivious. Like Elliot would hug her, wrap his arms around her waist while she cradles his face, but the second they realize what they’re both doing they pull away all: “omg that was so embarrassing they’re gonna know I like them!!” MY GUYS DO YOU NOT REALIZE WHAT THE OTHER IS DOING??

🌸They’re going to feel SO fucking dumb when they confess, honestly. Everything’s just gonna click into place for them and they’d both be like: “…how did we not realize this sooner?”

🌸Their first kiss would probably be the most awkward thing, too. Like, they don’t really know what they’re doing and their noses smush together and then they’re just both sitting there laughing at themselves because how awkward it is. They get it eventually, though. 🎉

🌸They’re probably each other’s first relationship.

🌸Elliot would send those really cheesy ‘Good Morning’ messages. Milly stares at it all flustered before hitting him with a ‘gm’.

🌸Milly’s probably really bad with words, so she’s mostly affection through touch. (And I like to think she’d sometimes just pretend to punch Elliot or just find random ways to touch his shoulder or arm. It’s how she says I love you.

🌸Meanwhile Elliot; the Aurizzm KING, would be INSANE with words. His love language would definitely be words of affirmation, so he’s always complimenting Milly and essentially reducing her to a silent, blushing mess. (Initially he didn’t know if this was bad or not but he’s since realize it’s fine.)

🌸Elliot would also need a lot of reassurance from Milly. He’d probably overthink every little thing he does and worry about losing her. So he’ll apologize often or ask if he’s been going okay as her partner. (And probably be tackled into a hug as she tells him he’s amazing.)

🌸Meanwhile I could see Milly being a pretty jealous girlfriend. I wouldn’t be surprised if Milly also had low self-esteem due to the bullying she received and the way she assumes everyone’s trying to attack her character or ‘control’ her. Seeing Elliot close with others would probably make her a little jealous, since she doesn’t know if it’ll make him realize he wants more than her. Either way, she wouldn’t really do anything other than cling to Elliot afterwards. Just sort of hug him and not really say much.

🌸Elliot would be a really clingy boyfriend, too. Milly goes over to Hailey’s for rehearsal one night and Elliot’s just sitting there curled up on his couch like: “I miss my girlfriend…” 🥺

🌸Elliot: “Loving my gf isn’t a personality? Heh, tell that to my gf, who I LOVE.”

🌸Milly to Elliot: “Stay back, kitten. Daddy’s got this.” 💀

🌸They’d be the most wholesome relationship in TMF.

🌸Total cuddle-bugs. Both of them.

🌸They could probably both pick each other up.

🌸They’re the type of people to blush when they hold hands, even after they’ve been dating for 3 months.

🌸Oh yeah, I also like to think that Milly’s whole firey temper and tendency to punch a bitch is actually something Elliot likes? Like, the ONLY reason he stopped her from pummeling that black-haired kid in the Spin-Off was because he didn’t want her getting detention. Not because: “Oh, if we resort to violence we’re no better than them.”

🌸I feel like Elliot would have to remind Milly to actually drink water. I don’t think she’d remember otherwise.

🌸In general I think Elliot would have to remind her of a lot of things due to her tenancy to get distracted.

🌸Milly wears the suit. Elliot wears the dress. ✨

[jodjuya]

It's because those "systems of power and oppression" are highly situational outside of those having to do with wealth and often in the eye of the beholder.

"there's no such thing as forests! Trees are the only thing that actually exist!"

And "patriarchy" literally means "father-rule," so from that angle, it is unfairly blaming only men for something both men and women are responsible for.

"patriarchy" is specific jargon referring to specific clusters of related concepts. That 'dictionary definition' angle is a very dumb angle to pin your argument on. Worthless rhetoric. Maybe next time hit up Wikipedia instead of thesaurus dot com?

Shit, dude, I even literally said so myself in my own post that both men and women uphold patriarchy; that men aren't being exclusively blamed for it. Are you trying to use my own point as a gotcha against me??

Plus, what's wrong with being a libertarian (in the original sense of the term, not "conservative who smokes weed")? I honestly think collectivist thought causes a lot of trouble because it's pitting people against each other based on characteristics over which they have little or no control, and it's an easy out for people who don't want to take responsibility for their own actions.

Pretty dumb thing to think, but you do you. 🤷🏻‍♂️

As for the "MRA" thing, I want actual equality. God forbid that I think outside the feminist box and not mindlessly kowtow to women just because they're women.

Seem to be carrying a pretty big chip on your shoulder there, bud.

Again, you do you, but I ain't doing any mindless kowtowing, and I don't know why you would possibly think that's on the agenda here. Have you been picking fights with lesbian separatists or something? Very weird take, my guy.

And I AM one of "the queers."

Congratulations.

I do consider myself left-leaning, but I don't toe the party line on everything because I take each individual idea thrown at me into consideration.

The bold refreshing taste of centrist libertarianism, yum yum! You have definitely earned the privilege of buying yourself a cookie for being such a radical free-thinker!! 🍪

That said, you really don't seem to have much of a defense for your own ideas here past attacking me personally. I may be bitter and cynical from having progressive groups pull the rug out from under me time and time again, but at least I can go after your ideas and not you as a person.

WHAT ideas had you put forward lmao?? I'm supposed to type out an entire PhD dissertation of Men's Liberation apologetics to justify my beliefs to some random anonymous dingus trying to hijack my positivity posting by bitching about how "um actually, feminism is a bad thing didn't you know??"

Sulk about it all you like, but that doesn't stop your worthless clown opinions being the worthless opinions of a clown. Why should I bother wasting my time engaging sincerely with a sealion, when nothing you have put forward deserves any response more in-depth than "cool story bro 🤡"?

And, fuck, dude, you were the one to bring up feminism, not me. That chip on your shoulder is a deep one all right.

The message behind the flag is condescending and trivializes the issues of men, all while putting the blame on men for said issues.

No, it isn't, and no, it doesn't.

It's just a bunch of idealistic symbolism. It ain't that deep, bro.

The insistence of including "white privilege" in "lore" speaks to a very liberal, very Western understanding of the world that does not account for the experiences of men from non-white majority countries. It also reduces whiteness to a monolith, much like blackness is reduced to a monolith in Western discourse in general. White ethnic minorities do, in fact, exist and face actual, tangible repression. Sometimes, from non-white people, too. And Asian racism (e.g. Japanese racism towards the Chinese, Chinese racism towards the Vietnamese, ect.) is widely considered to be some of the worst around.

Wow! I had no idea that the anglophone author of this flag—who used American English to post his thoughts about anglophone symbolism on an American website—was thinking specifically about the problems caused by white-supremacy in western societies! What dazzling insight!!! Can't believe I literally never ever noticed that before!! 😱

Man, the fucking audacity of that fucking guy choosing to stay in his lane! What an asshole! Can you even believe that he didn't speak over Asian men to talk about the problems faced by men in Asian societies?!?!?

I defy you to explain how white privilege plays any part in the concentration camps run by CCP to eradicate the identity of the Uyghur people.

And I defy you to not be a fucking idiot, so I guess we're at an impasse. Oh no.

It's also not very aesthetically pleasing

Cry me a river lol

I want to know how you could think the choice to use hot pink to denote GBT men is appropriate, or the association of male homosexuality, bisexuality, and transness as gender non-conformity, especially considering historical adittudes towards them.

"The pink Mars symbol represents gender non-conformity and the redefining of what it means to be male IN CONTRAST WITH THE RESTRICTIVE TRADITIONAL MASCULINITY OF THE PAST, representing LGBTQ+ and gender-nonconforming men and masculine people. This symbol faces "backwards" because there is no wrong way to be a man."

OH BOY! I sure do love being on this website: double-you double-you double-you dot Reading dash Comprehension dot com! Truely a sublime experience!! ONLY the finest minds congregate here, yes sir!

Also, it wasn't my choice - I'm not the flag's author. All I did was copy and paste an old Reddit post because I thought it was cool. All you've done is clog up my notes with your whiny bleating about how girls have cooties, ew yuck, we better not listen to their ideas!

The whole damn thing is so tone-deaf. This is why no one likes the "Men's Lib" movement. You want to have it both ways by insisting that you are a movement that advocates for men, but what you really are is garden variety feminism, with a blue coat of paint.

🤡

This flag is a celebration of Men's Liberation and its core values of intersectionality, the subversion of norms, and a dismantling of the patriarchy.

The dark-colored Mars symbol represents intersectional masculinity. The oppression faced by members of marginalized communities, such as men of color and mentally ill men, is often compounded and exacerbated by their gender in unique ways, and this symbol represents the inclusion of these men and our community's goal of examining men's issues through an intersectional lens.

The pink Mars symbol represents gender non-conformity and the redefining of what it means to be male in contrast with the restrictive traditional masculinity of the past, representing LGBTQ+ and gender-nonconforming men and masculine people. This symbol faces "backwards" because there is no wrong way to be a man.

The white Mars symbol represents privilege and the active dismantlement of the patriarchy. Men, especially straight white men, are socialized into a position of power within an oppressive hegemony. This symbol faces downwards to represent how the power that comes with privilege must be consciously relinquished in order for prejudice to be unlearned and equality to be created.

The arrows from the three symbols all converge at one point to represent true strength coming from diversity, inclusion, and unity.

The periwinkle background represents hope for future generations. Blue is traditionally the color used in Western countries to denote that a new baby is male. It is our hope that we can ensure the baby boys and young men of the future are brought into a world that teaches them compassion and positive masculinity.

**********

Created by /u/sudo999 and refined by /u/erdijentila, this work is licensed under CC0 1.0 "No rights reserved" and you may use it for any purpose, commercial or non-commercial, with or without attribution.

https://www.reddit.com/r/MensLib/comments/cwar6i/i_have_a_thing_for_flags_after_seeing_a_couple/ey9gml6/

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

pairings: Lucifer x Fem!Reader, Mammon x Fem!Reader, Leviathan x Fem!Reader

warnings: tw abandonment (but it turns out okay, I promise), mentions of the act of birthing,

A/N: you came to the right place! as the second oldest of six children, I have some experience when it comes to pregnancy:) I hope you don't mind, nonny, but I'm gonna split this up into a few parts so I can do the dateables as well!

Lucifer

The moment you had shyly produced the positive pregnancy test from the pocket of your hoodie, it felt like Lucifer had entered into a fever dream filled with nursery designs, baby names, the expenses that pile up before the baby even arrives, researching human pregnancy, keeping you out of harm's way and healthy and happy...

So when you first stagger out of bed and rush to his bathroom, hand clamped over your mouth and one shaky hand on your slightly swollen tummy, Lucifer isn't surprised

He is very concerned, however. You had been so nervous to tell him of your pregnancy, you waited until the last moment before your bump was noticeable to tell him

That meant you had been suffering from all of these pregnancy side effects before he'd permanently moved you to sleep in his room

Lucifer hoists himself out of bed and pads into the bathroom, gathering up your hair, if any, into his fist and pulling your hunched form between his legs for support

You hate this feeling with a passion; throbbing stomach and a lump in your throat with little to no vertigo and tears rolling down your face as you try and catch your breath

You tell him it hurts, you ask him if he can take the pain away as your head rests on his chest, lashes fluttering with wooziness

Lightheadedness was unbearably common; you would suddenly grip his sleeve and he could watch the color drain from your face and your knees get shaky, body beginning to sway

He always catches you though, finding a place for you to sit or lie down and gather yourself

Tummy rubs become more common; the feeling of his hands against your bare tummy, spreading their warmth and nullifying the ache, allowing you to relax

He's extremely attentive as well and can tell whenever you need something

Water? Here's a cup sweetheart, remember, you're hydrating and eating for two people!

Craving something? Chocolate? Fried pickles? Chips of some kind? sweets? He's stockpiled anything you could want and locked it away just for you.

I feel like Lucifer would want your baby to be a little girl. A little princess he can carry on his shoulders and spoil with his love and gifts.

Satan ruined him for having another baby boy, but if that's how the cards fall, he certainly wouldn't mind. Unfortunately, he'd be constantly walking on eggshells, afraid he'll make your little boy into another rebellious child

That's the last thing he wants

Lucifer does his best to keep his kid away from Satan and Belphie and out of the 'Formerly Anti-Lucifer League', but sometimes you're taking a nap or out shopping with Asmodeus, and Satan and his brothers manage to coerce the little one into their shenanigans

One thing is for sure though, even if Lucifer didn't want any kids and the creation of one was unplanned, he would never ever turn you away

He's very responsible and does anything in his power to make the pregnancy as easy and happy as possible

On the day you are to give birth, he's a mess

He has already sweat through 3 shirts by the time the IV has been secured to your hand

Everything he says doesn't come without a stutter

He's squeezing your hand and kissing your hair during labor, trying to distract you from the burn between your legs as much as he can

You probably need extra stitches from baby's horns ngl

Definitely cries before the baby is even put in your arms

Refuses to let his brothers come and see you, "They can wait until we go home."

Lucifer is Smitten™

He smooches the tiredness under your eyes and tells you to get some rest

Surprisingly, he enjoys a lot of the names from the human world you discuss and will most likely pick one of those

But if it's a girl, her name is Lilith. I'm sorry MC, your input is invalid at this time

You don't regret 'final day in the devildom sex' at all when you get to witness the Avatar of Pride reduced to tears when the nurse puts the child in his arms

P-P-Pregnant? MC, ya better be jokin'...

Mammon

You weren't, judging by the pregnancy test(s) clutched in your fist

He's not mad at you, he's not upset, (in fact, he's the happiest he's ever been), he just scared

Broken Condom Victim™

He loved you just a bit too hard last week...

but let's be real here, HIS MC, carrying HIS baby?

That's like the highest level of ownership on his lovely human you could get! Levi, Asmo, Beel, Lucifer, everyone would be SOOOO JEALOUS!!!

AND

He gets to have a little one running around again!

You saw how sweet he was to babified Satan in the obey me anime premier! He LOVES little kids and nothing would make him happier than someone to play with (besides MC of course) that wouldn't make fun of him for messing up and being silly!

AND

You're so pretty!!

I mean, ya were always pretty, but somethin' about ya is different and yer even more beautiful than before somehow!

Mammon said, his entire face the shade of a pomegranate

Pregnancy glow is REAL

Asmo agrees, after stealing you away from an extremely overprotective mammon and hiding in the attic to chat without disturbance (mammon)

But as much as YOU know he would be the BEST father, comments from his brothers continue to drag him down and the evenings he cried into your shoulder became more and more frequent as your pregnancy progresses

Mammon, as we all know, is, in fact, a tiddy man

He likes to touch and squeeze them, and just gently hold them while cuddling or even browsing in a store, he'd just come up behind you and touch your boobs

(also, mammon likes all sizes, so if you have next to no tiddy like me, you'll be at his mercy as well. those with the large honkers, however, watch yourself)

Now that there's a miracle growing in your tummy, other parts of your body are preparing for its arrival, including your chest

Swelling, swelling, soreness, growing and darkening of the nipples, and swelling make it so Mammon can no longer touch your pretty tiddies :(((

(grammarly didn't like that word)

On the day mammon snack size was to be born, mammon is silent but extremely fidgety

It was early in the morning when you'd shaken him awake like, "mammoney, I'm going into labor" and he was out of bed and out the door with your luggage before you finished blinking

After grabbing your DDD's and you, he carries you down to the car (what dysfunctional family doesn't have a car? a nice one (Mercedes, Audi, you get the idea) for lucifer and a Volkswagon bus or something for his siblings to share) and drives quickly, but very carefully drives to the hospital, holding your hand the whole way.

He covers your eyes when they put the IV in, just in case you're squeamish, and rubs your arms as the drugs begin to take effect and there's a little fear in your eyes at the thought of pushing an entire human/demon being out of your coochie

He assures you and never lets go of your hand no matter how long you're in labor

When it's all over with and you are resting in your hospital bed waiting for the doctors to finish the Apgar tests and give you your baby

Mammon is speechless as the nurse places the baby in your arms

That's HIS KID!!

Immediately starts crying

The little horns poking out of the blanket? Those look just like his!!

Judging by the bit of hair on it's head, it looks like the baby will have hair like yours

If it's a baby boy, he thinks it should be named "Mammon II" but you just giggle and remind him of the deal he made with lucifer long ago, that his first born child, no matter the gender, had to have 'Lucifer' somewhere in their name

Human names are dumb, except for yours of course, so he searches for suitable demon names

The last thing he wants is a kid named Lucifer, so that will be the kid's middle name

He really regrets his past decisions now

Leviathan

"Levi?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I'm pregnant."

*leviathan has been KO'd*

No joke, this man is literally floored and didn't wake up for a while and you were afraid you had just slain the fucking Lord of Shadows

Some Henry you were

You had to call Lucifer in to wake him up because he was still flat on the floor a half and hour later

Mammon is more that happy to tip a bucket of ice water on the face of the son of a bitch that impregnated HIS MC

Levi wakes up and pounces on you, gripping you tightly by the arms

"You're k-kidding r-right?"

Him? A father?

Uhhhhhhh

Unfortunately, Leviathan.exe has stopped working, try again in two thousand years

I hate to say this, but he definitely detaches himself for a while until his brothers, especially Asmodeus, literally beat him into shape

He comes back to you, a little bruised and sobbing, but not from the beating he just received

He's so sorry he neglected you! He's such a horrible demon, undeserving of your welcoming nature

He's gonna be the worst dad, and he's not good enough for you, and his kid will hate him just like everyone else does, he doesn't deserve you, he's so sorry for making you suffer the side effects and feel all alone,

Sir, I-

FALSE

It's your turn to shake some sense into him, reminding him that he would be the. best. dad!!

Not to mention the fact that you were just happy he realized his mistakes and came back to you

He begs you to sleep in his bed tub with him for security, and you have to admit his tail is very comforting

Levi does extensive research on human pregnancy and now at the dinner table, instead of talking about the latest slice of life anime he'd been watching, he's just spouting random pregnancy facts and you're laughing so hard it brings you to tears

When the weird dreams and vivid nightmares happen, Levi is right behind you, rubbing your swollen tummy, and letting you talk about them

A lot of them were about him and about your future child

Most of them were about how they got hurt in some way, either that or YOU got hurt and the baby died

These, more often than not, brought you to tears and stress you out, but Levi is right there, okay? Nothing can hurt you, nor would he let anything happen to you on his watch

Learns how to massage you (safely) to reduce stress

Definitely talks to the baby a lot

Levi begged you to be induced so the birth was safe and not a sudden occasion and you agree

On the day the doctor recommended, you arrived at the hospital and got down to business

Levi didn't really want to be in the room with you, but he knew he had to for your sake and he'd played a few birth simulators from both perspectives and you really needed him

Kinda sits there awkwardly comforting you and encouraging you, holding your hand and caressing your cheeks, a bit flushed from exertion and tears

Listen

If the baby is a boy, his name will be Henry and that's final

If it's a girl, he doesn't really care, as long as you don't name her 'mammonia' or something dumb like that

definitely crashes your hospital bed to snuggle until the baby is ready

cries when the baby wraps its extremely small digits around one of his own

also at the little horns protruding from its head

and the tuft of purple in its head

Also Smitten™

He's so excited to get home and show off his beautiful baby to his brothers and then formulate a plan to raise the kid to live and breathe TSL just like his daddy <3

--

July 9th: VIP MEMBERS, GET YALLS JUICE!!

Countdown Masterlist

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[bestiesenpai]

Taker - Sukuna

Step brother Sukuna is very different from step brother Itadori. Femme reader

Part two

TW: dubcon + noncon, pseudoincest, light degradation, forced orgasm, hitting(is this even the right tag lol sukuna hits you but it’s not impact play)

Ever since your mother married Sukuna and Yujis father, your life had been different. You moved into their house, your mother took the last name Itadori, and you gained two older brothers. They were twins in fact, but they couldn’t act more different from one another.

Yuji was nice and unassuming. He and his brother helped carry your stuff to your room, but Yuji didn’t complain the whole time. Yuji was quick to help you acclimate to your new way of living and he was always there if you wanted to talk about anything and everything.

Sukuna was brash and sometimes downright mean to you. Whenever he passed you in the hall, he called you a mean nickname and bumped you in the shoulder. He spent most nights out of the house, sometimes not coming home until a few days later with soiled clothes reeking of cigarettes. Sukuna made it clear he disliked you, and he would sometimes go out of his way just to annoy you.

He’d pull your hair, trip you, mess with your food and just other childish things he knew he could get away with. He never did anything too horrible, so the most your parents could do was talk to him and it would stop for a few days before returning with just as much force. Yuji tried to help as well, but it seemed nothing would change.

Sitting on the couch in the lounge room watching a movie, you thought you were free from Sukuna. He’d just come home from another stint of being who knows where, and usually that meant he’d shower and not emerge from his room during the day. But the familiar heavy footsteps coming down the stairs said otherwise.

“Hey twerp.” He smirked as he rounded the corner and saw you. Rolling your eyes, you ignored him. He could easily get a rise out of you and you were trying to prevent it. Leaving the room quickly, he came back with a bottle of water and hovered near your seat.

“What do you want?” You groaned, feeling irritated just by his presence.

“What, I can’t see what my dumb little sister is watching?”

“Step sister.” You were quick to correct him. Yuji could call you his little sister, but Sukuna wasn’t allowed.

“Whatever. Scoot over.” Roughly pushing your shoulder, Sukuna effectively squeezed himself between you and the arm of the couch. “Jesus, you leave a guy with no room!”

“You’re not even supposed to be here!” Pushing back, you were easily overpowered by him. Attempting to scoot over, Sukunas arms wrapped around your ribs and hoisted you on his lap. “Let go!”

“Stop freaking out.” He huffed, unfazed by the elbow that landed in his chest.

“Stop it!”

“God, you’re fucking annoying.” Growing tired of your fighting, Sukuna threw an arm over yours and pinned them to your side. Hooking his legs around yours as well, he reduced your fighting to useless squirming. “Now sit fucking still.”

“Why are you even here?” Reluctantly, you relaxed your body.

“I’m just trying to bond with my little sister!”

“Step-”

“Shut the fuck up with that bullshit.” Sukuna barked, and his hand landed with a loud smack on your thigh. “If that idiot Yuji gets to call you his sister, then so do I.”

“You don’t even like me.” Rubbing the sore spot on your leg, your shoulder jerked when he rested his head on it.

“Don’t make such assumptions, you might hurt my feelings!” Squeezing you briefly, Sukuna let out a hum. “We just need to get to know each other, that’s it.” You opened your mouth to say something snarky, but a swift pinch to your side stopped you.

Huffing, you tried to focus on the TV. There wasn’t anything you could do about Sukuna now, so the next best option was to just wait until he left of his own accord. His arms around your middle loosened up at feeling you finally relaxing, and for a short moment, it felt almost normal. Sukuna even took the blanket that you’d had over you and placed it back across your legs.

“So twerp, what’s this shit about?” Nothing lasts forever.

“Just shut up and watch.”

“Ouch, who knew you were such a bitch?”

“I am not!” Forcing your body to turn, you glared at him. As soon as Sukuna saw your angry face, he laughed, a deep and hearty sound rumbling from his chest. Feeling embarrassment burn your cheeks, you turned around and tried to ignore him.

Sukuna continued to laugh at your expense with his mouth right by your ear. Swatting at him, you tried to lean forward to get away from the sound. Feeling you sliding away, Sukuna slapped a hand onto your chest and yanked you back.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” His blow knocked the air out of your lungs and his chin dug into your shoulder. Unable to answer, a strangled noise left your lips when you realized his hand had landed right on your breast.

“L-let go.”

“What’re you getting so worked up about?” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna groped your breast harder. The fabric of your bra was stopping him from really feeling anything besides the shape but it didn’t stop him from molding the flesh in his hands.

“Stop it.” You whined, and Sukuna echoed it back at you.

“Stop!” He teased you in a shrill voice. “Let go of me! Why are you even here? God you’re so annoying!” Growing bored, Sukuna put his hand under your shirt and tugged your bra down, the hot skin of his palm meeting your chest.

“Sukuna!” A shrill cry of his name echoed in the living room when he pinched your nipple harder than anyone ever has. You dug your nails into his arm to try and get him to stop, but it only made him want more.

“Shouldn’t you call me big brother?” Nuzzling his nose into your neck, Sukuna massaged your breast roughly.

“No.” Shaking your head, you squirmed on his lap. Despite the rough treatment he’d given you so far, your body was flush with heat.

“No? But then, why does Yuji get to be big brother?” Sukuna pouted and his hand stopped moving.

“Because.” Was the only word you could get out, and you received a hard tug on your nipple. “Ow!”

“Because isn’t good enough. Try again.”

“Because...Yuji is nice to me! You’re such a bully!” Kicking your feet out for emphasis, it felt good to finally say it. You and Sukuna had exchanged harsh words before, but you never said it to his face.

“A bully, huh?” Falling silent, Sukuna nodded and withdrew his hand from your shirt. Grabbing the back of your collar, he pushed and pulled you off his lap, manhandling you onto your back on the couch with him between your legs.

“Hey, what the fuck!” Slapping his chest got your hands pinned to the couch cushions. Sukuna looked at you with wide eyes and an unsettling gaze. His lips slightly parted, his tongue darted out to wet them and you saw the flashes of a tongue piercing.

“If I’m so horrible, I might as well just take what I want then.” The words barely registered in your head before Sukuna descended onto you. His lips crashed onto yours and his teeth dug into you. Forcing his tongue into your mouth, his piercing smoothed over the roof of your mouth and bumped into your teeth.

His lips were demanding, not letting you go for anything. Every time you tried to break away to breathe, Sukuna would smother you all over again. Sucking your tongue into his mouth, he smirked at the muffled screams you were making.

Breaking the kiss, he pressed his lips against your neck next. Sucking the flesh into his mouth, Sukuna was sure to leave marks you would feel for days to come, and see with the teeth marks he indented into you.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Pulling back, Sukuna chuckled at your pathetic face. Tears had gathered on your lashes and your bruised lips were quivering uncontrollably, and it only made Sukuna want you more.

Putting his lips back on yours, he let one of your wrists go to find your breast again. Giving it the same treatment as earlier, his hips rutted into yours at the feeling. He groaned into your mouth, and his breathing was obnoxiously loud as he forced the air through his nose.

Dropping his hand to your waistband, Sukuna slapped your hand when you tried to stop him, but still he let go. Pulling away from your lips, he sat up on his heels and looked down at you with a smirk. Finally free from him, you furiously wiped away the tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

“I’m gonna tell dad!” You felt so childish, so helpless, saying that. But it was the only leverage you had against him.

“Oh yeah? I’ll call him right now.” Grabbing your phone from the coffee table, Sukuna waved it over your face. “I’ll call and tell him and your mom how I fucked your stupid little ass into the couch and how you were just begging for my cock.” You stared at each other for a moment and Sukuna knew he had won even from just a few seconds of silence. Tossing your phone back on the table, he grabbed your waistband.

“Don’t!” As Sukuna tried to pull your pants down, you held onto the fabric, desperate to keep it in place. Grunting, Sukuna lifted his hand and curled it into a fist.

“Do you want me to hit you so you fucking stop, or will you be a good little sister?” He didn’t need to glare at you, or threaten you any further. Staring at his fist and the taut muscles in his arms, you knew he wouldn’t hesitate to hit you, so you let go.

“I’ll be good.” You whispered, and Sukuna yanked your pants down to your midthigh. You craned your head up and away from the man above you, and your fingers itched to cover yourself as he stared at your cunt.

“All that fight, and yet you’re wet.”

“No I’m not!” His statement made you snap your head back to him, and he quirked a brow at you.

“Don’t lie to me when the truth is right here.” With two fingers he swiped up your cunt. His fingers dipped easily into your wet folds and he presented the fingers to you. “See? You fucking wanted this all along.”

“No I-” Your protest was cut off with a hard slap to the top of your thigh. Sukuna scoffed at the surprised shout you let out and put his fingers back at your cunt, swirling around your entrance.

“Just be grateful I’m doing this much. I could just fuck you without prepping you and make you fucking bleed.” Rolling his eyes, Sukuna pressed his fingers into you. You were too tight to let him in, and when he tried to force them past the tight muscles of your cunt, you started to cry.

“Stop, Sukuna! It hurts!” Pushing and slapping his chest, your thighs quaked with the desire to close them.

“God you’re such a fucking princess.” Abandoning his attempt, Sukuna settled his fingers on your clit. Watching your face intently, he pressed down and rubbed firm circles on it. Biting your lip, you fought to keep your face neutral but he could see right past you.

Moving his fingers just a little faster, Sukuna didn’t need you to make a sound to know that you were enjoying this. Tears might have been drying on your cheeks, but every so often your thighs would twitch and you’d look at him with those scared little eyes.

Putting more force behind his fingers, Sukuna broke out into a large grin when you made a tiny sound. It was barely above a whimper, not even a complete sound, but Sukuna took it for all it was worth and then some.

“C’mon little sister, don’t hold back! If it feels good, it’s okay to moan.”

“No.” Shaking your head, you clamped your lips shut and put your hands over them, effectively stopping any sound. Narrowing his eyes, Sukuna stopped his ministrations on your clit. His finger prodded at your entrance and found that he could now slip two fingers in without the same restrictions as before.

“Try to keep quiet all you want.” He grunted, curving his fingers up and fucking them into you. He set a quick pace, the arms in his muscles flexing intensely from the effort. Pressing his thumb against your clit, Sukuna let out a soft chuckle at hearing your muffled cries.

Despite your efforts, the sounds you made could still be heard even behind your hands. Hushed cries of ‘no’ and ‘stop’ mixed in with moans that you didn’t want to be making, but the pleasure Sukuna was forcing onto you was overriding your senses. It only took a few more snaps of his wrist to get you cumming and he let out a low groan at feeling your gummy walls pulse around his fingers.

Pulling his fingers out, Sukuna turned them over in the light so you both could see the mess of your release glistening on the digits. Locking eyes with you, his tongue lolled out of his mouth and he made a show of swiping his fingers across it and sucking on them.

“I can’t wait to feel you on my cock.” Hurriedly he undid his pants. Sukunas cock slapped against his stomach and you pushed on his chest again. The length and girth of his cock scared you, it was much bigger than the few fingers you stuffed inside yourself late at night.

“No, it won’t fit!”

“I’ll make it fit.” Wrapping a hand around his cock, he pumped it once before leaning in.

“Sukuna, stop!” You tried in vain to cover yourself, to stop him from trying to put the tip of his cock into you, but it only earned you a pinch on the arm.

“Maybe if you call me big brother, I won’t stick it in.”

“I-” The words caught in your throat, and your eyes roamed the room in thought. Unable to make full eye contact with him, you settled your eyes on his chest. “Big brother, stop it.”

“Nice try.” Yanking your hands away, Sukuna lined his cock up and pushed it in all the way. A shriek sounded from your chest and your hands scrambled to find something to hold onto, something to ground you in this moment. Catching onto his back, you raked your nails down his skin.

“But you said-”

“I didn’t guarantee shit.” He nearly shouted in your ear, his forehead pressed against the cushion. Sniffles and tears couldn’t be stopped now and you turned into a blubbering mess underneath him. Pulling back slightly, Sukuna gave you a blank stare.

“Why are you crying like such a baby?” Rolling his eyes, he grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “Tell me. Tell your big brother.”

“Y-you said yo-you wouldn’t! And it h-hurts!” Letting go of you, your head turned to the side. There was a large wet patch forming from your tears, and the sharp stinging between your legs refused to dissipate.

“You just have to get used to it, that’s all. Big brother's cock will make you feel good, promise.” Sinking his hands into the couch, Sukuna pulled his cock out gradually and pushed it back in. Your nails continued to almost draw blood on him and every thrust back in wasn’t making anything better.

“Su-”

“Aht, call me big brother or I’ll pound your ass.” His sharp glare stopped you in your tracks, and one of your hands dropped to wipe at your puffy eyes.

“Bi-big brother, please, it hurts too much.” Giving you a mocking pitying look, Sukuna put a hand between your bodies and found your clit again.

“Fucking princess.” He snarled, roughly rubbing your clit. It sent sparks of pleasure through your body and your tears stopped falling after a bit. Taking a few deep, shuddering breaths, you were able to relax around him.

Feeling your nails release him, Sukuna began to slowly hump you. He didn’t take his cock out nearly as much, opting for small little thrusts that didn’t feel like anything at all really, but he didn’t want you to keep crying and making so much noise. His thrusts remained short, and it wasn’t until you let out a sigh that he was able to really get into it.

Putting both hands on the couch, Sukuna drew his cock out further and slapped his hips into yours. The yelp you made sent a shiver down Sukunas spine.

The impatience he’d been holding back was finally coming forward, and Sukuna set a brutal pace from the beginning. Forcing you to split open on his cock, Sukuna couldn’t care less about if it hurt now or if he was going too fast for you. The only thing in his head was fucking you into the couch so deep that every time you passed by or sat down, you’d think of this moment.

“-other, brother!” You cried, and your nails were back to digging into his skin.

“What?”

“Too fast, please-”

“Stop fucking whining.” He snapped, and he lightly slapped your cheeks. “Just take my fucking cock and shut up.” Grabbing onto your face he squished your cheeks together and forced your lips apart. Gathering the saliva in his mouth, Sukuna held his tongue out and watched it drip down and into your mouth. Forcing his tongue into your mouth shortly after, he mixed your spit together and pulled his lips away, watching strings of saliva still connecting you together.

Rocking your hips together, shame trickled into the back of your head at what you were doing. There was no way you wanted this to happen, Sukuna had forced himself onto you, but you couldn’t deny that you were enjoying it now.

“Big brother! Thi- ah, fuck - this is wrong!”

“Oh, you’re gonna tell me what’s right and wrong?” Slowing his hips down to a stop, Sukuna sneered at you. “You, who’s fucking impaled on my cock and creaming all over me.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” You pressed, ignoring his words even though they burned you with humiliation.

“I gave you an out earlier, didn’t I? With your stupid little phone.” Starting up again, somehow he moved faster than before. “Didn’t I? But you didn’t take it!”

“I-”

“You wanted this to happen, so cut the bullshit out! You wanted me to split you open on my cock, and now that I am you can’t fucking handle it.” Broken yelps and moans flowed past your lips at his rough treatment, full sentences unable to form from the onslaught.

Your back was beginning to burn from constantly rubbing against the cushions and so was your ass. The imprint of the fabric would be stuck on you for days, your skin being nearly rubbed raw.

“Cum, I’m gonna-” You gasped, feeling the beginnings of your orgasm start to build. Sukuna made a noise in the back of his throat, and dropped to his elbows above you.

“Gonna cum from big brothers cock?” His voice wavered, the only indication he could be close too.

“Yes!” Nodding frantically, you gasped when he grabbed your ass and angled your hips further up. “Big brother!” Squealing at the new angle, your feet dug into his lower back. Sukunas back bowed with the effort he was putting forth and even though his body begged for a break, he refused.

“Say you love your big brother's cock!” He demanded, and you were more than happy to oblige.

“I-I love my big brother's cock!” Nearly sobbing, you fell over the edge. Your head pushed back hard against the couch cushions as you came, a long drawn out moan coming from your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck-” Gritting his teeth, Sukunas thrusts stuttered, and he ground his hips into you as he came. His lips found yours, a frenzied kiss to go with the euphoric feeling of shooting his cum deep inside you, the tip of his cock kissing your womb. He coated your walls with his cum and you milked him for everything he was worth.

The house was deafeningly silent compared to the loud sounds you’d just been making. Breaking the kiss, Sukuna pushed his face into the cushions, and the only noise between you two was heavy breathing. Taking your nails out of his back and letting your legs fall down, your whole body ached from the ordeal.

“What a good little sister I have.” Sukuna mumbled against your ear, and he gave your cheek a kiss before sitting up again. “Oh, excuse me. Step sister.”

[metalheadkells]

silly wip based on prompts from @cosmicbash and @smarmy-yet-satisfying

mild n!!s!!fw 

I think em’s plotting to kill me, Colson texts Slim, stealing a furtive glance at Em across the studio and confirming that, yep, he’s still glaring at him with murder in his eyes. I bet it’s why he agreed to this in the first place. make me let my guard down and then like impale me on his mic stand. 

The words impale me on his give Colson pause, his mind starting to meander in an entirely opposite direction, before he hits the brakes on that shit and mentally cusses himself out for being so unbelievably stupid, frowning and blushing and sternly reminding himself that the only thing Em would ever want to stick inside him is a knife. Or maybe he’d use his bare hands, wrapping them around Colson’s throat and squeezing until - Okay, nope, too hot. Abort, abort. 

Colson feels like his face is on fire when he next looks up, and nearly has a heart attack because Em is suddenly right there, in his space, glowering as meanly as if he can read the filthy-bad-wrong thoughts Colson has been trying to suppress all evening. Colson’s not so sure Em doesn’t have paranormal powers of telepathy; it fits neatly into his whole crazy genius vibe and it would definitely explain why Em still wants to dance on his mutilated corpse, when Colson has been nothing but cooperative and nice and only a little fanatically overexcited.

“D-don’t sneak up on me like that,” Colson says, palm pressed to his pounding heart. 

“You get so quiet, sometimes,” Em says enigmatically, surprising Colson. 

“Um,” Colson says, his mind whirring at a feverish rate. 

What is Em getting at? Does he think Colson is rude, or a poor collaborator, for periodically tripping and falling backwards into his own torturous thoughts? Is he trying to trap Colson into admitting he can’t stop longingly imagining Em pinning him to the mixing console and fucking him raw and rough? Or coming all over Colson’s face after Colson sucks his violent temper out through his dick? Or… or Colson needs to fucking stop before he pops a boner in front of Eminem and irreparably ruins this entire thing. It’s a miracle they’re even here together at all, and Colson’s not about to fuck it up because he can’t contain his horny freak impulses. 

“Yes,” Colson says, almost robotic, “I do… do that. Sorry. I got issues.” 

I got issues? What the fuck. Prolonged in-person exposure to Em has apparently shrunk Colson’s brain to the size of an actual M&M. 

Em’s mouth twitches, and if Colson didn’t know better, he’d think Em was suppressing a smile. But he does know better, so he recognizes it for the physical manifestation of, I’m trying so hard not to roundhouse kick you into the wall, you dumb bitch. 

Except now Colson is thinking about Em’s mouth, and Em pressing the words dumb bitch into his skin while he punishes him with his - Jesus fucking Christ, stop it already. 

“You’re doin’ it again,” Em says, yanking Colson back to Earth, and hold on… hold on a second. Eminem, the Eminem, is smiling. Smiling in Colson’s general direction. It’s the slightest hint of a smile, close-lipped and shadowed by some unidentifiable emotion, but still - it’s there. 

It disappears after a blank second, Em’s icy scowl swallowing it back up as he asks, “What,” like Colson’s been staring at him, which… oops. 

“Uhhh,” Colson says, idiotically, because he’s an idiot. “Nothin’.” He desperately hopes the gruffness in his voice is reading as self-effacing, despite all my rage I’m still just a rat in a cage, angst; as opposed to, please at least fist me after you bust your knuckles open on my face. 

“I need… bathroom,” Colson says, reduced to Neanderthal sentence fragments. 

Em blinks at him. “Didn’t you just go to the bathroom?” 

“Yeah, sorry, I - I gotta pee real bad. Just - gallons in there.” 

Great. Good. Totally normal thing to say. 

Colson clambers out of his chair and doesn’t look at Em as he passes him, his face once again engulfed in flames. 

[tiffdawg]

Keep Quiet | A Paz Vizsla x Reader Oneshot

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 3.3k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW – explicit sexual content, sex, public-sex, dirty talk. Mild language. 18+ only.

Request: The first fic request from the 500 Celebration! @huliabitch requested 72 (We’re in public, you know?) from this list with Paz Vizsla. Thank you, Julia! 

A/N: I’m a sucker for this big blue bitch... so this accidentally turned into a whole oneshot. Oh, and can you believe after all this time LF finally fixed the spelling of his name? Guess it’s officially Vizsla now.

Read on AO3

My Masterlist

… . …

Keep Quiet

He was late.

You’d been pacing the length of that skinny back alley in between the shop where you toiled away your days and the neighboring warehouse for what felt like hours. Really, it had hardly been longer than thirty minutes. But they were thirty excruciating minutes. The two of you met there once a week at the same exact time. Never earlier. Never later. It was a perfectly timed routine – more for his safety than yours – and he was never late. 

“Where the fuck are you?” you murmured to yourself. You glanced to your right and then left, double checking both ends of the passage. Still, there was no sign of him.

Another ten minutes of pacing passed. In your frustration, you kicked a piece of scrap metal, sending it flying towards one of the empty plasteel containers from the warehouse that were scattered throughout the alleyway. It struck true and you grimaced at the noise it made, not expecting it to ring quite so loudly in the quiet night. Luckily, the only place still open in that neighborhood at the late hour was the cantina a few buildings over – and those patrons were well-occupied. 

“This is supposed to be a covert meeting, mesh’la,” a deep voice rumbled behind you. Turning on your heel, you found the man you’d been waiting so impatiently for. A deep breath you hadn’t realized you were holding escaped you at the sight of him alive and unscathed. “Do you want all of Nevarro to know what we’re up to?” 

“You were taking forever, Mandalorian,” you said with an overdramatic roll of your eyes, feigning nonchalance. “I can’t help it if I get bored when you make me wait.”

“Bored?” he asked, amusement lacing his voice even through the vocoder. He stalked towards you, slow and measured and only stopping when he was directly in front of you. He moved leisurely as he dismounted the blaster cannon on his back and leaned it against the exterior of the warehouse, acting as if the two of you had all the time in the galaxy. “Are you sure it was just boredom?”

“I might’ve been a little worried,” you admitted, pointedly refusing to look at him as you said it. “Where were you?”

“Do I look like someone who needs to be worried about?” he asked, ignoring your question. He drew closer until the edge of one of the cargo containers dug into your lower back. His massive form took up most of your sight, completely blocking out the rest of the world.

“No,” you sighed. You ran your hand across his blue chestplate, feeling each jagged scratch and scar marring the armor beneath your palm. He’d clearly managed to best his opponents in battles and brawls of the past. You had some faith that he would always do what was necessary to return to you. “I just can’t help myself.”

He regarded you for a long moment. His dark visor gave nothing away about his expression underneath. Sometimes you liked to believe you knew what was going on inside that man’s head, but more often than not he was unreadable to you save for what he wanted to share with you. Everything else remained hidden. 

“I didn’t mean to worry you, mesh’la,” he said quietly, lightly tracing a gloved fingertip across the lines of your face. He followed the curve of your lips to the round of your cheek and down along your jaw. It was something he did sometimes in the rare gentle moments you shared with him. You wondered idly if he was memorizing your likeness with his careful touch; it seemed too deliberate to be without purpose. “I don’t have long tonight, but I think I can make it up to you.”

Slowly, his hand moved lower, down your neck and across your chest. And his sweet caresses turned into something else. Something hungry and needy. He palmed at your breast, kneading it harshly and easily tearing a heady moan from your throat as you arched into his touch. 

“We’re in public, you know,” he admonished cheekily, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. From anyone else it would’ve sounded condescending. From him, it only sent a rush of arousal straight to your core. 

You scoffed at him. “Like that’s ever stopped us,” you simpered as you reached for his belt.

That was the truth of the matter. Your meetings, hidden only by the blackness of the planet’s short night, were always a passing thing in that same dark alley. Once a week, he dared to leave the safety of his covert – where they were hiding, you could only guess – to run out to the lava fields to meet the smuggler who supplied his people. You assumed the credits came from the one Mandalorian that was allowed to walk freely through the streets, only ever stopping in the cantina to collect payment and pucks. There was an entire tribe of Mandalorians living in the city, but he was the only one that anyone ever saw on Nevarro.

Until you.

You’d caught your Mandalorian one night as you were locking up the shop. The shop owner had asked you to stay late and take inventory for him, knowing you couldn’t turn down a chance for extra credits when you were perpetually short on rent. When you’d stepped out into the alley and accidentally ran into a wall of blue armor, your eyes went as wide as one of the infamous thousand moons of Iego. Really, you shouldn’t have been there, and, considering his first impulse was to kill you, he hadn’t intended to find you either. 

It was sheer dumb luck that you dodged his vibroblade. And nothing more than your loneliness-induced horniness that saved you after that. 

In what you knew even then was not an act of self-preservation but rather your own troublesome curiosity getting the best of you once more, you’d flirted shamelessly with him. Your effect was disarming; both the blade and his inhibitions were abandoned. The next thing you knew, he had you pinned against the wall, skirt hiked to your waist and a leg hooked around his hip, as he pounded into you.

Apparently, he was lonely too because your illicit rendezvous became a regular occurrence. Now, it was the highlight of your week. 

“I hate this stupid thing,” you grumbled as you struggled to free him. That godsforsaken codpiece was the literal bane of your existence. “It’s ridiculous.” 

“You want me to be able to breed you one day?” His words sent an electric shock through your system, exciting you in a whole new way. The implication was not lost on you. You nodded eagerly, eliciting a low rumbling laugh that reverberated in his cuirass. With your chest pressed against him, you felt it more than you heard it. “Then you’ll thank me for wearing it.” 

“Fine,” you conceded, “But right now, I really want your dick inside me, and this is getting in my way.”

He graciously helped you and you made to kneel in front of him, intent on tasting the pearl of precum already leaking from his head. He’d clearly missed you as much as you’d missed him. But a firm hand wrapped around your wrist and hauled you back up before your knees could even touch the ground.

“I told you we don’t have long. It’s not your mouth I want tonight,” he growled as he turned you around, bending you over the container and knocking your stance wider. 

“I can work with this,” you said, throwing a smirk over your shoulder. You hastily undid your own belt and he pushed your trousers down your thighs, baring only was necessary of yourself to him. It didn’t matter that he always fucked you in a dark alley. He still seemed intent on protecting your modesty. Or what little was left of it.

Although, if you were being honest, you didn’t think you needed to worry about anyone catching you. Any creature that walked down that alley would certainly meet the end of his blade or blaster. His mercy for you was exceptional.

But one day, you hoped it would just be the two of you. No threat of strangers finding you. No layers of clothing and armor barring you from each other. No clandestine meeting in a seedy passageway. Just you and him finally alone together. Granted, it was little more than a fleeting fantasy. Just because the two of you shared that indulgent illusion, whispering deep desires in the heat of the moment, didn’t mean a damn thing. Dreams didn’t come true in the Outer Rim.

Fortunately, you didn’t have long to dwell on the notion, as the blunt head of his cock pushed through your slick folds until he was fully sheathed inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs and every last thought from your lust-riddled brain. 

“So wet for me and I hardly touched you,” he mocked. He landed a playful swat on the swell of your ass before squeezing it with a greedy hand. He was clearly in a mood that night and it lit fire in your belly, igniting flames that licked across your body. It burned even hotter as he slowly pulled out only to push deeper into your dripping cunt. He let you feel every inch of him drag against your walls as he stretched you out and filled you completely. It was the sweetest torture, reducing you to a whimpering mess.

But it wasn’t enough.

“You said we had to be quick,” you implored him as you ground back against him, begging him to move. 

One of his gloved hands ran up your body to wrap around your jaw, holding you in place and forcing you to look back at him. “I still want to have my fun with you, mesh’la,” he drawled. You could almost imagine the mischievous grin that surely pulled at his lips.

“Well, when you’re done, maybe you could actually fuck me,” you challenged.

He answered your provocation by driving into you and setting an unforgiving pace. His strength and size were impressive – even more so when he used it to fuck you senseless. He was a man that was rough around the edges. A hardened warrior. And he fucked you like it. You expected nothing less. You didn’t want anything less. Even after the initial attraction gave way to a deeper affection, he always had his way with you.

“Is that what you wanted?” he snarled.

“Harder!” you demanded in response. Your desperation burned you from the inside out, threatened to overwhelm you in the best possible way. You wanted to feel him in every step, every turn, every movement, long after you parted. It was your favorite reminder of what took place between the two of you. Of course, he obliged you.

“Fuck–” he panted, his breath crackling through the vocoder, “You take me so good. You were made for this cock.”

“I’m all yours,” you sobbed as you clenched around him. “Always wanna be yours.” 

He leaned over you, caging you in against the container as his heavy build pressed into you exquisitely. His palms covered the backs of your hands as he pinned you to the crate, trapping you beneath him so that you were entirely at his mercy. You gasped for breath, mouth agape as he pounded into you. At that new angle, he hit that soft spot deep inside of you that made you see stars even behind closed eyes. 

“You’re splitting me in two,” you whined deliriously. 

“You like it,” he grunted, punctuating each word with a thrust. 

“Yes! Please– Please, don’t stop!” 

“Not until you cum on my cock,” he promised. “Can you keep quiet for once?” 

You nodded even though you both knew if was pointless. Still, he held out a hand and you knew instantly what he wanted. You tore off his glove and his bare hand slipped down the front of your body. His fingers circled your swollen clit with fevered intent.

Your whole body went rigid beneath him, every muscle pulling taut, until the pressure building in you finally shattered and your orgasm tore through you like a blinding white light. Your wobbling legs practically gave out under you and you would’ve slumped to the ground if it wasn’t for his weight against you holding you in place.  

“It’s too much,” you babbled, pushing his hand away as a few stray tears ran down your face, “I can’t– It’s too much.”

“You’re doing so good for me,” he rasped darkly. His normally even voice had an unsteady edge to it. It was a reminder of the hot-blooded man under the cool armor. With the way you pulsated around his cock as he fucked you through the aftershocks of your release, you knew he was getting close. “Gonna reward you with my cum. You want it?” 

“Yes!” you mewled.

His throbbing length stilled inside you as he filled you, painting your pussy with hot ropes of cum. As you both recovered, he rested against you for one indulgent moment as if loath to leave you. And despite the fact that you could hardly draw in a breath with his weight pressing into you, you would’ve stayed like that for hours, luxuriating in the feel of him. His movements were almost gentle as his hands skimmed up and down your sides, feeling what you would give him. You wondered if he knew the answer to that was everything. 

When he finally pulled away and slipped out of you, you felt much too light and much too empty. He hiked your pants back up, leaving you only to secure the fastenings, before growling low in your ear. “Keep it in you.”

You hummed an affirmative response, unable to utter a single word in your euphoric state, as you listened to the clink of his belt as he adjusted himself behind you. You could picture him rearming himself without even needing to look. It was, after all, routine.

“I have some things for you,” you announced, gesturing lazily in the general direction of a few small containers full of rations near the shop door. When you could, you liked to put a little something aside for him to take back to his people. The shop owner had yet to notice, and you justified your skimming based on the fact that he overcharged every customer who walked through his doors. And severely underpaid his best employee. “It’s not much this time.”

“It’s always too much. I can’t accept this.”

“If you don’t take those rations, the Jawa’s will,” you reasoned. You finally righted yourself and moved to stand beside him. “Maker knows those greedy little scavengers get more than their fill around here.” 

“I don’t want you in trouble,” he murmured as he inspected your offering.

“I’m the one who always has to do the inventory, so one will ever know.” This was a familiar conversation, repeated almost every week. You stepped closer to him, trying to get him to look at you again. “Please let me help you.”

“In your dishonor, you are honorable, mesh’la.” You thought he might’ve meant to tease you, but there was something sincere in his words. And when he held out a hand to you and pulled you into his chest, only to touch his helmet to your forehead in that unique gesture of affection, you knew his appreciation was genuine. “You spoil me,” he whispered. It was only just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I care about you, Mandalorian,” you said, leaning into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his middle as best you could, unbothered by his armor. That was him, after all.

“I’m going to take care of you one day.”

“How about we just take care of each other?”

“Always so stubborn,” he grumbled, but there was no menace to his words. A quiet moment passed between the two of you as you both savored the other person’s presence. When he did pull away, you swore you felt his reluctance. He gently cupped your chin as if to ensure you were paying attention to his next words. “I’ll see you next week, mesh’la.”

“Try not to be late.”

“You’d still wait for me, wouldn’t you?”

“Always,” you answered with a soft smile before tilting your head to place a kiss on the palm of his hand. He nodded once and took his leave. 

You remained stuck in your place as you watched the man you loved disappear into the darkness, knowing full-well that your desire for him could never be satisfied by a hurried late-night tryst. Only when his figure was gone from your sight did you finally start the long walk to your empty apartment.

… . …

You’d given up on your agitated pacing weeks ago. The incessant wringing of your hands had given way to idleness shortly after. And you’d all but stopped listening for the sound of heavy footfalls. Now, you just sat slumped against the shop door creating your own constellations with the stars hung in the sky above.

You still waited in that alley every week at the designated time, usually lingering for hours. You vowed freely to continue to do so. If you didn’t, you feared he’d never be able to find you. You certainly had no idea where to look for him. You didn’t even know his name. So, you did what you could; you waited. You waited and you tried not to count the days since you saw him last.

Fifty-six. 

And it’d been fifty-two days since the showdown between the Bounty Hunters’ Guild and the Mandalorians. You knew he would be counted among them – he didn’t strike you as one to shy away from a fight. He was someone who lived for the action. 

You’d heard the battle from your apartment. Blaster fire woke you in the dead of night, but like the countless other occasions a fight broke out in that city, you’d dismissed it as just another day on Nevarro. It wasn’t until you heard the gossip in the market the next morning that you’d learned what happened.

While the city had quickly repaired itself after the bout of violence, your heart wasn’t healing so easily. That night marked eight long weeks – two whole months – since you saw him last. You knew what that most likely meant.

He wasn’t coming back to you.

And yet, you waited. Your worry for him that last night when he was late was almost humorous to you now. Now, all you did was wait for him. Patience was a virtue you learned the hard way.

As the moon passed its zenith, you reluctantly pushed yourself to your feet, slung your pack over your shoulder, and started off. At least for that night, it was time to give up.

Of course, it was probably time to abandon that futile exercise completely. It only caused your heart to break all over again week after lonely week. That was a cold truth to accept. As you tried to blink back the tears pooling in your eyes, you lashed out, kicking a piece of debris littering the alley. The old binary motivator crashed into the warehouse wall with a bang.

“Mesh’la.”

You froze in place at the sound of the one word you wanted to hear most, certain that you were imagining the sound of his voice.

“What have I told you about keeping quiet?”

... . ...

Mando’a Translation

Mesh’la: beautiful

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin

[redhawtriot]

Operation Unvirgin (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

I had this idea the other day that Bakugou probably would be super celibate. Like he is very goal oriented and doesn't like to attach himself to others, so I feel like he wouldn't have ever bothered with girls or even beat his meat or anything (the shit’s fucking perverted okay?! how could any decent person touch themselves?)

But he hears that Deku is boutta get laid and he gets pissed bc WHAT? That loser is gonna beat him in something?! So he goes on a mission to loose his virginity before Deku. 

So I wrote the NSFW piece of this and it was UTTER GARBAGE, but I know that many of you guys are writers so think of this as a very informal request: Anyone can write the second half of this and tag me and I will repost it (except no non-con plz). It doesn’t matter how long it is.

If this completely flops I will ... sigh... post my shitty NSFW next week... (But please spare me and yourselves from that outcome) 

HnM💕

Bakugou never could understand all the hype surrounding the opposite sex.

The blond man would wrack his brain as he tried to remember the exact moment where his fellow peers stopped looking at girls like the enemy and started looking at them like walking deities, mindlessly floating behind them as if an invisible scent enchanted their spirits. Sometimes he felt like a lone soldier in sustaining self-respect.

In his isolated state, he only watched in disgust as freaks like Mineta and Kaminari drooled over women and reduced themselves into warm bodied zombies in the presence of a vagina. Pathetic.

He would never in a million years let a woman rule over him. He had seen how his hag of a mother treated his father, and he would rather stick his face in a vat of acid than have his soul belong to someone like that.

His stupid mom always told him that he would probably meet someone in high school that would change his mind, but there he was, the night after graduation, victorious in his pursuit of staying the fuck away from crazy broads like her.

In fact, this ridiculous graduation party that Kirishima had dragged him to was probably the last time he would see most of these extras, since he doubted many of them would make it past being D-listers or side-kicks—and that was him being generous.

The colorful beams of light took turns fading in and out of the dark room as the heavy bass of multiple speakers pounded into his body, sending a flurry of vibrations in his abdomen. Although, Bakugou would never admit this out loud, he actually enjoyed this scenery. The stomping of the music reminded him a lot of his own quirk and the lights weren’t completely hideous.

Yeah, as long as no one at this shitty party tried to talk to him or get on his nerves he would be just fine—

“Baku-brooooo!”

God Dammit.

“Hey, dude!” Kaminari threw a sloppy arm over the angrier blond’s shoulders as Kirshima, Deku and Mina all followed behind him through the dense party crowd. Now, if this had been two years ago, Kaminari just might have found himself short an appendage through an explosive altercation; however, throughout his high school career, Bakugou found that simply ignoring the idiots was usually enough to deter them from trying to converse with him.

So Bakugou swallowed the increasing rage that was bubbling in his throat and simply scoffed instead, swatting the man’s arm away from him and turning his back on him and his incoming entourage. Kaminari only laughed in response, “C’mon bro we are officially graduates! Ditch the bad boy act and loosen up a little—we are men now! Just ask Midoriya!” he slyly suggested.

The sound of his rival’s name piqued his interest, yet the stubborn man still refused to give the short-circuited idiot the satisfaction of knowing such a thing, so he continued to glare away from him as Izuku spoke up, “N-no it’s nothing really… Uraraka and I have just been together for a while. Honestly, I don’t even know if I will go for it. I don’t wanna be a jerk or anything bringing it up to her! Forget I said anything at all, actually!” the young man frantically waved his hands as his face became obviously red even in the dimly lit atmosphere.

Mina snickered as her hands found their way to her hips “The shy guy act is cute and all Midoriya, but every girl wants confidence in bed! I am sure she wouldn’t mind if the two of you at least talked about it,” she bumped the green haired boy with her hips as Bakugo furrowed his eyebrows even deeper.

Kirishima was the next to speak up “GO for it, man! There worst that can happen is that she’ll say no!” he heavily patted the concerned Izuku’s back, “But the manliest thing for you to do is respect her boundaries,” he quickly added in.

The green haired man shook his head at the ground, “I should have just kept my big mouth shut...”

“She won’t say no,” Mina sang with a mischievous expression drawn across her face.

The three boys turned their attention to her with confused glances before Kaminari spoke up, “C’mon Mina! You know something don’t you? Spill it!” he begged.

Mina looked as if she were contemplating for only a moment before he gestured for the men to come closer, “Don’t tell her I told you, but…” she trailed off for dramatic effect, “She was totally gonna try to seduce you tonight, Midoriya!!” She winked. Bakugou’s ears perked up at this statement,

“WhAT?” both him and Izuku cried out.

Kaminari and Kirishima laughed at the blond’s outburst, “So you were listening after all, huh Bakugou?” the latter questioned.

“What do you think of the situation, buddy?” Kaminari leaned into the explosive man with a smirk.

“I’m not your damn buddy,” Bakugou bumped the electrical dumbass away from him, “I think you idiot perverts need to stop worrying about whose panties you’re gonna fail getting into and worry about not being able to keep food on your fucking plates when your careers flop!” he barked as the four blinked in surprise at his sudden outburst.

Kaminari saw this as the perfect opportunity to mess with him, “Bakugou are you… a virgin?” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“MIND YOUR OWN DAMN BUSINESS, PIKACHU,” the man under interrogation screeched.

“He totally is!” Kaminari threw his hands up in feign shock, causing Mina to giggle.

Izuku awkwardly shifted on the balls of his feet as Kiri loudly spoke up, “Hey guys, it’s not manly to butt into another man’s personal life like that.”

Bakugou ignored his defender and continued screaming at dumb and dumber through the loud music, “S-Shut the hell up!” his face was dusted in a light shade of red as he spoke. He tried to shake these foreign feelings of embarrassment away. So fucking what if he was a virgin?

“Deku still ain’t shit! Who fucking cares if he’s gonna get his dick dirty?! I could fuck any of these bimbos!” he loudly called out, causing a few girls crowding the area to throw him wary glances before they cautiously moved away. The group of friends noticed this and Kamari and Mina failed miserably at stifling their laughs at the scene.

“It’s ‘make love to’, dude…” Kirishima quietly correct his angry friend in a feeble attempt to save his future endeavors with women.

“NO. FUCK! I said what I meant dammit!” he yelled as he once again fought away the redness on his face, “I could fuck any one of these bitches within an inch of their life!” he furiously vowed.

“Any, huh?” Mina questioned with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s what I fucking said, Raccoon eyes!”

“Then how about…” the yellow irises scanned the dense room for a moment before a smile split her face. She happily pointed a finger, “that one!”

Bakugou followed her finger through the crowd and found you on the other side of the room. The fading lights intermittently illuminated your features, but he knew exactly who you were— Y/N L/N.  The only other person at U.A. known for being just as proud as himself if not more. Also known for having a slough of men on your heels at any given moment, but not giving a single one of them any significant time of day.

Mina snickered at Bakugou’s sudden silence, causing him to throw a glare at her. He fought of any creeping feeling of disheartened as he began a march toward your dancing figure, “Fucking easy” he roughly hyped himself up before approaching you.

“Hey,” he barked roughly. It didn’t really come off as much of a greeting and had more of a threatening tone to it, but in your shocked state you could only offer a half-hearted smile at the daunting man before returning to the conversation that you were having with your friends.

However, after a while, you noticed that your friends were distracted as their scared eyes kept darting behind you. He was still there wasn’t he?

You rolled your eyes before throwing a glare in his direction, “Do you fucking want something, dickhead?” you snapped.

“I SHOULD—” he began to threaten but he clamped his mouth shut and bottled up his feelings of rage from being disrespected before he continued, “You…��� he barked, an unfamiliar feeling of uncertainty gripping at his chest, “I want you,” he said sternly. He had heard Kaminari say some stupid shit like this before and it worked. If it worked for an idiot like him then surely—

Bakugou’s thoughts were cut off as you simply threw your head back in a fit of laughter before turning your back to him to converse with your friends again, “Anyway,” you loudly began before beginning to talk to you friends again.

Bakugou’s face contorted in aghast uncertainty before he looked back to his classmates. Kaminari was giving him a thumbs down, Mina was giggling like crazy, Kirishima was beaming him a reassuring smile and Deku was no where to be found. Fuck! he probably went off to find Uraraka!

The thought set a competitive fire in his chest as he looked back toward you, “Let’s--“ he stopped himself to re-frame his approach. He thought of the words of encouragement that shitty hair might give him in this moment,

‘Treat her like a queen!’ ‘Ladies love a man with a code! Don’t tell her what to do, ask her!’

“Do... you want to dance,” he forced himself to ask through slightly gritted teeth. This was utterly humiliating.

“You think you can handle it?” you joked through a small smirk before eyeing him up and down. The man only averted his glare from you in response as he scowled at a nearby wall. You gave a small laugh at the display. It was almost childish how he was acting.

You suddenly noticed the red tint that was adorning his cheeks, sending a wave of excitement throughout your body. A sudden predacious urge clutched your abdomen at the sight.

“Okay,” you smiled after wetting your lips. You leaned into him before grabbing his forearm and leading him deep into the hot pool of dancing bodies. He stiffly followed after you.

If he thinks he can handle it then you’ll just have to show him how wrong he is...

[inkedtae]

For Drabble game! High society JK and OC with a secret relationship fucking desperately because OC just got arranged with someone else

warnings; dom!jungkook, unprotected sex (wrap it to tap it), elevator sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, dirty talk, daddy kink, degradation, jealousy, light fingering, choking, extremely unedited

In and out. That’s how quick you planned on attending this benefit. No pictures, small talk or “catching up.” Adjusting your earring in the elevator mirror, you take a deep breath and remind yourself of that fact. And, you tell yourself, if you do see him, run. It’s possibly the easiest way to avoid his allure. You promised your mother you’d give the suitor she suggested a chance. That means running at the first sight of-

Ding! The elevator doors open. Jungkook meets your gaze in the mirror. Eyes first stunned with a surprise, narrow down at your well fitted dress. They linger around your curves. A breathless gasp escapes him a he smirks.

He enters, standing a little too close. Your mind is telling you to run, to get off this floor and catch the next elevator. But, you don’t want to. It’s stupid to admit but you want to have this last, little moment with him. Composing your features, you inhale deeply as the elevator doors close.

“You got my gift.”

Mind stunted by the deep register of his voice, you almost miss his words. His gift? When you found it all laid out on your bed, you assumed your mother had done that for you. Risking a glance, you find him facing forward, eyes locked in the door but hands brushing against yours. Knuckles knocking, you ignore the sparks of lust and return to face the door.

“You’ve got good taste.”

He scoffs. Stepping forward, he stops the elevator and turns towards you. Closer and closer, he approaches until his chest presses against yours and warm breath fans over your face.

“Are we really gonna pretend the whole night?”

“I didn’t plan on staying that long.”

You don’t realize your words have an alternate meaning until you see the anger flash in his eyes. He searches yours, as if trying to confirm what you have said is true. Swallowing thickly, he asks, “You’d fuck him in the dress I bought you? You’re that big a fucking slut?”

His hands grip onto your hips, pulling them into his. Whimpering, you try to correct him but something about the jealousy in his eyes cinches your word in your throat. His anger and undeniable neediness turns something on in you and you cannot, for the life of you, turn it back off. Instead, you find yourself sliding your leg out from the slit of your dress and up his slacks. Hooking it around his tiny waist, you whisper, “Give me a good reason not to.”

He cups your sex. Your arousal instantly stains your thong, a fact he accustoms himself well to. Raising a brow, he chuckles then tongues his cheek. You shudder in his whole. Why he feels the urge to completely watch you crumble every time he sees you will always be a mystery to you. Maybe he just knows he can and that’s enough for him. And, you have to admit, it’s a pretty damn good reason too. You just wish it was enough for you too. Enough to stay, enough to say it. 

“Need more of a reason?” He asks. You forget how well he knows you sometimes. 

Face hot, you shrug. The indifference spurs something inhuman awake in his eyes. You don’t have much to decipher it as this newfound animalistic side of him takes over. A growl tears through his tear. Sneering, Jungkook attacks your neck. His vein-laced, tattoo speckled hands already grip and rip the dress up. You don’t waste much time either, or at least you won’t dare to. The clang of his belt unbuckling cuts through the raps of heavy breaths and his desperate whimpers. You cling onto each other as he eases himself in you. Long satisfied sighs escape you in unison. 

He towers over you, hissing, “He can’t stretch this little pussy out like I can.” You nod, in agreement, words lost as he pushes himself further into you. “That’s my babygirl’s favourite thing, right? Being stretched out by a fat cock?” 

His thrusts grow hard, fast and consistently brutal as you’re left to take it all. Not much can even leave your lips besides the occasion whine of his name and a broken “uh-huh,” with every question he aggressively poses. 

“Now, fucking say it. Tell me who can fuck your whorish pussy this good?” 

“Daddy!”

“And does Daddy like to share?”

“N-no.”

The elevator creaks with the persistent rams of his hips into yours. Clenching tighter and tighter with the threat of your orgasm, you think this is the peak of his degradation. He’s made his point, reduced you down into his own personal slut, fucking you dumb. But then, his fingers wrap around your throat and he seethes, “What’s the shitbag’s name?”

“Ta-” 

He presses harder, cutting the name off before you can even get a syllable in. “What was that?” He mocks, lips attached to your earlobe. 

You try again only for him to tighten his grip once more. 

“The only name that should leave those lips should be mine,” He rasps, voice breaking as his cock twitches deep within you. “Understood?”

He loosens his grip enough for you to take a proper breathe and gasp, “Yes, daddy.”

“That’s my little bitch.” 

[create a moment with me]

[bitch-i-migth-be]

Crash Course | Chapter 05: Priorities

Fandoms: Danny Phantom, Batman,  

Relationships: Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton,  Danny Fenton & Jazz Fenton & Vlad Masters, Ember Mclain & Kitty, Danny Fenton & Cujo

Characters: Danny Fenton, Jazz Fenton,Cujo, Ember Mclain, Kitty, Lunch Lady, Younblood, Skulker, Johnny 13, Random ghosties mentions *boo*, Vlad Fucking Masters Everyone

Words: 6′582

Tags: BAMF Danny, Ghost zone shenanigans, Sibling bonding, Shenanigans, Swearing, Family dinners, Heteronormativity?? The fuck is that, Danny in Cosplay, Ghost King Danny, 

Summary: He swore his sister was trying to make him go into cardiac arrest - considering his halfa status that was quite the accomplishment-

But there was no other explanation to his sister’s stubbornness, and if he knew her at all there was just no talking her down from interning at goddam Arkham.

A/N: 

Some of you *coming here for the fights, angst and The Drama™ that a DP & DC crossover inevitably involves*: “Hey-”

Me *Trying to write fluffy shit to liberate and soothe my deranged soul from this mortal prison*: “S'up?”

-.-.-.-

This is so long compared to the other chapters. Whhy is this so loooong. UGH- It’s almost double the length of the first four chapters together? I thought it was less?  This would have been bigger if I hadn’t posted chapter 4 first? What is happening

THIS IS ON AO3, IF ANYONE WOULD PREFER TO READ THERE. LOVE COMmENTs  so if u have anything to say IwillBeReallyHappyYesThankU

CHAPTERS: 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7

-.-.-.-

Phantom was currently drifting on the Ghost zone trying to hunt down his next unsuspecting victim among the ghosts.

‘Oh, how the turn tables.’ the halfa chuckled.

Jazz had kept her word and after pulling an all-nighter they had come up with some interesting options. 

Now he just needed to pull them off. 

The sound of growling at his back made him freeze on his tracks. He turned around to look at the source of the sound. 

“Oh,” Well, this certainly had not been on the plans. To stumble upon such a mighty beast this early on. He smiled. “Hi, Cujo!”

The happy barking that followed the greeting was rather endearing, normally whenever he crossed paths with the pup he would spare some time to play with him and teach him some tricks. After some months of the pup following him around and of the halfa trying to deny to anyone who would listen, especially Val, that the dog was not really his, Danny finally gave up and got him a new collar. 

The little guy was quite spoiled nowadays.

Sadly, right now he was on a timeline.

“Sorry, bud. No playtime today, I’m on a rather tight schedule.” Phantom cooed softly, reaching down to briefly scratch behind the pup’s ears. 

Cujo sat on his hind legs, paws in the air and tail wagging, effectively cutting off his path.

Not like he couldn’t try to fly around, mind you, but with a dog that could go gigamax on your ass, it was better to just talk your way out. 

Just when Danny was about to open his mouth the pup upgraded to excited wiggling on the non-existent floor of the zone.

The halfa sighed to himself. Fond smile growing without his explicit permission. 

“Cujo-” he tried, just to be interrupted again. “And there goes the whining, Oh. My. God.”

The boy covered his face with his hands, not daring to look until the sounds stopped completely. After a moment, he finally took a peek from between his fingers. 

Sad, puppy dog eyes were looking up at him, small little whine making a comeback.

Fucking shit.

He was going soft. 

-.-.-.-

“Match head.” 

The sound of the nickname momentarily dragged Ember’s full attention from the tuning of her guitar to the new arrival. 

“Baby Pop.” She took notice of the green puppy posing as a hat on the white-haired boy’s head and snorted, eyes going back to the guitar. “Blessed the eyes. You going Cruella on us now or what?” 

“Please,” The boy jested. “Like we need a remasterized skulker around here.”

“At least the woman did it for fashion.” She hummed. “You would make a horrid carpet, you are too fucking skinny.” 

“Excuse you, bitch.” Phantom shot back, irritation clear on his voice. Ember rejoiced on it. 

She faked a gasp,“ Are you saying you want Skulky to make you into a rug, baby pop? Scandalous!”

“T-that’s not-!” the halfa spluttered before Ember cut him off. 

“What do you want, cupcake? It’s not like you to venture so far into the Zone willingly unless you are looking for blood.” She questioned, carefully putting her guitar back in the case. 

The boy huffed.

“Whatever, Ashley,” he grumbled under his breath. “I think it’s time we revisited the terms of our agreement ” The boy sat by her side nonchalantly, not noticing — or outright ignoring — the sudden rise in temperature as the girl’s blue hair flared violently, a deep frown marring her face. 

Cujo did notice. But the little doggo was more distracted with the movement of the pretty light-emitting hair, and the fluffiness of the hair on his current method of transportation to register the imminent danger to his fur. 

Priorities.

“Revisit? You want to fucking revisit?” She growled. “I will tell you what you can fucking revisit-!”

The halfa just laughed at her reaction. Ember’s hair doubled in length. The laughter died off.

Her hand was getting dangerously close to her guitar.

Danny swallowed hard, deciding to just get on with it before Ember tried to use the instrument as a wanna-be war hammer again.

“It’s quite the contrary, my dear flaming hot,” he rushed to appease her “I want to expand on it,” he said, throwing in a sickeningly sweet smile for good measure.

He hoped it was enough to regain her attention in a more positive light. He didn’t want to explain to Jazz why his ghost form’s eyebrows were singed off. Again. He didn’t have time for more lectures. Thank you.

Luckily, If the hair-inferno reducing to a cheerfully blazing bonfire and the growing smirk taking over ember’s face was any indication he had succeeded. Cujo whined for the loss. Danny wanted to squeal for the win.

He did not. But it was a very close thing.

“Oh ho, now we are talking, baby pop.”

-.-.-.-

The window of opportunity to pull this off was very small. He had to take into account the amount of time that had passed since the last fight, the reason for the aforementioned fight, and how much of an emotional investment the objective really held for it to be a proper detonator. 

This operation required surgical precision, which meant a lot of preparation. And research.      

It was a good thing it happened so often. 

“I will be direct with you, sister,” Phantom spilled, sprawling himself on the free seat on Kitty’s right side. “your bitch boyfriend doesn’t know the jackpot he hit with you and that just ain’t gonna fly.”  

knowing where Kitty would end up after a fight with Johnny was not a problem. tracking down which bar she was going to be crashing for the aftermath was the real problem. 

Danny hadn’t even known there were bars in this place.

In the last months of his treaty with one Ember Mclain, he had learned plenty of- interesting facts about the Zone that he would prefer to forget. Not that he really had an option, Jazz had taught him early on that information on the enemy — and sometimes on friends —was a valuable asset to ensure victory. 

So he would play dumb about knowing these things. But he would not forget about them.

Couldn’t afford to forget them.

If the Ghost Writer pulled another surprise quiz on him and the answers were less than perfect the man would riot. 

The halfa stretched out a hand to take a menu and leaned his elbows against the bar-top. Cujo chose that moment to leave his position on the teen’s head to sit next to his forearm so he could peer at the menu too.   

He skipped the drinks section and went straight to the food. There was no way he was getting any alcohol. 

Don’t get him wrong. They would serve him whatever the fuck he wanted if he asked for it on the zone, but the teen had tasted it before and hated it with a passion. Fuck the peer pressure. Never again. Good for when you are sad? Bitch, just get ice cream. Maybe he should have asked Ember for Kitty’s favorite flavor and save himself the hassle. Oh well.

Too late now.

Danny chose his order but decided to risk a look at the drinks for non-alcoholic options while he waited for Cujo to paw at whatever he wanted.

Kitty, who had been spluttering and getting progressively redder since he made his entrance, was about to smack him upside the head because even if it was true the brat shouldn’t just go saying it like it was any of his goddamn business. They were in the middle of a crowded bar, these people didn’t need any more confirmation for her relationship problems. Couldn’t she keep some dignity?  

Before her hand could connect though, a pair of arms surrounded her, bringing her firmly into a backward hug against a warm chest. 

A very familiar warm chest. 

Startled, she looked up to stare into fiery green eyes.

“Cool it kitten,” Ember purred, clad in a leather jacket that was, most likely, scammed off some unfortunate soul. Still. She looked damn good. Kitty got so tongue-tied she couldn’t manage to even begin to stutter a response, let alone a protest. Danny took advantage of Ember’s intervention to finally place his first order. “Babycakes is right.” Ember continued, effectively cutting off all the air from kitty’s sails once and for all, because really, Ember was her best friend and if there was anyone who knew exactly how many times Johnny and Kitty had fought it was the blue-haired girl.

Kitty let out a defeated sigh and wiggled a little on the embrace to settle into it properly. Might as well get the best out of this- 

“Oh, they have frappes!” Phantom trilled in awe. Kitty twitched. 

If only Phantom would go away. Ugh. She couldn’t deal with males right now.

“Can’t you leave that thing alone?” Hissed Ember, who had seen the teen open the conversation with her kitty kat just to completely ignore her right after in favor of the menu. The bitch boy needed to focus, they were supposed to be on a mission here. 

“Hey! You were the one calling me skinny earlier!” Remarked the teen, only to get a raised eyebrow back from the rockstar.

“As if a single frappe is going to fix that. Give me that!” She sneered at him and snatched the laminated paper from his hands. Phantom tried to snatch it back and failed. So he resorted to pouting and tried to give her the sad puppy dog eyes. 

It wasn’t going to work with the matchstick, he knew, but it was good practice.

To pull this shit with Ember you had to be either Kitty, Youngblood, or an honest-to-god puppy. He was not risking ticking off Kitty more than he already had. Youngblood was not here — for obvious reasons—. Cujo was here and didn’t hate him, but sadly the dog wouldn’t be any help right now. 

The pup was already accepting belly rubs from the waiters and completely ignoring the world around him. 

Again: Priorities.      

So really, Danny was just doing this for the sake of being extra. 

While Ember and Danny continued with their dramatic standoff, the other girl blinked rapidly and turned her head towards Phantom.

“Oh” Kitty’s bad mood banished almost magically in favor of curiously peering at the teen’s figure. Danny fidgeted on his seat apprehensively.“I hadn’t noticed. You are really lean.” Ember snickered. Cujo — coming back from the belly rub induced coma — barked. Phantom sighed and just accepted defeat. 

“I suppose that’s somewhat better-” He grumbled under his breath.

Kitty allowed a tiny smile to escape from her lips but shook herself slightly to get back on track. “What are you two even doing here anyway?” She asked, alternating glances between them. 

“Pretty sure you already know,” Ember answered, rubbing her cheek against kitty’s green hair and sending A Look at Phantom. “Because someone is not subtle. at. all.” She ended with a hiss and a flare of her hair. Kitty winced lightly at the confirmation. Phantom rolled his eyes.

“Oh, Cry me a table, matchstick.”

Kitty knew alright. Ember made it her personal business to get involved in whatever petty fight Kitty got into, more so if it was about Johnny.  Phantom getting involved in the aftermath — and not the fight itself — was new though.“It was just another stupid fight. And- You know, his obsession-”

“Nope. That’s no excuse, Kath.” Ember cut her off. “If you can work around yours for him, then so can he.”

“You can do better.” The teenage boy agreed while Ember continued squeezing her. 

“What do you suggest then?”

Phantom and Ember exchanged a look, mirth flashing in their glowing green eyes and matching smirks growing bold, they turned to look back at Kitty. The green-haired girl gulped down her growing unease. In her experience, these two banding together was never a good thing for anyone.  

“We are here to talk to you about the Remember Initiative.”

-.-.-.-

“Such a skinny boy!”

“Hey! I’m just lean-!” Phantom let out a yelp as he ducked under yet another juice box “What’s with you people and your obsession with my weight-! Ugh! If you would just listen-! Wait. Is that apple grape?” He said the last part in a hushed rush, looking in silent awe at one of the little juice boxes she was about to throw his way.

The Lunch Lady preened.

“Boxy got them for me! 100% Juice Fruit guaranteed!” She was radiating smugness about these facts.

“Oh my gosh- Wait! NO. That’s not what I came here for!” Danny managed to shake himself out of his stupor just in time to keep evading the Lady’s attempts to shove a spoon full of food down his throat while he was distracted with the juice.  

The last time she had gotten a hold of him he had ended up feeling like one of his mom’s thanksgiving turkeys. Danny gulped. Best to just go for it and hope for the best. 

“Did you know that there are 37.2 million people living in food-insecure households?!”

The screamed question froze the lunch lady on her tracks. At the look of horror his words achieved, he decided to keep going.   

“1 in 6 American children don’t even know where their next meal is coming from.”

The lunch lady let out a horrified gasp, “Those poor children-!”

And with that, the woman exchanged her attempts at stuffing him for furious-but-mournful whisperings. She looked really constipated about this new information. Danny almost felt sad. Almost. 

“There is a way to help, you know?”

The lunch lady’s head snapped back towards the half-ghost, eyes narrowed in a glare. Not the usual I’m-going-to-choke-your-skinny-ass-in-food glare, but an I’m-paying-attention-to-your-skinny-ass glare. 

Danny refrained from openly cheering after sensing his upcoming victory. Better not chance it.  

“Have you ever heard about old San Nicolas?”

-.-.-.-

“You know,” Danny murmured, slurping noisily from one of his juice boxes as he watched from a safe distance how Johnny and Skulker got wrecked by a pair of cute-murderous-girls, “I wasn’t expecting that to work so well.”

His only response was a pair of little barks from the green puppy that was happily squirming on his lap.

The boy paused on his watch to look down at Cujo. Danny extended one of his hands towards the puppy to carefully try to swat at him. The cub rolled onto his back and trapped Danny’s upcoming fingers between his paws with a playful growl, giving little nibbles to the appendage.   

He couldn’t help the giddy giggles that escaped him. 

Those little paws were precious.

At the sound of high pitched screams Danny’s head snapped back up to continue watching the ongoing smackdown, surrendering complete possession of his hand to Cujo to do as he pleased. 

If the Initiative didn’t work out, both girls would do awesome on the wrestling circuit. Not like Ember lacked in the costume department.

Speaking of costumes, he wondered if the match stick would let him borrow her feathered hat. That thing was awesome. 

Better just ask. 

Once she was done throwing down with skulker, of course.  

He was not about to become cannon fodder. 

Priorities.

-.-.-.-

“Ahoy! me fellow comrades!! Your future Cap'n ’s talking!! I’m here on a recruiting mission to embark on the most perilous dangers of the Realms!! May ye, dear comrades, embark under your own risk! Arrrgh!! ”

Thanks to Youngblood’s presence the main residential area of Phantom’s keep was starting to become complete disarray. The adult ghosts were frantic for the possible kidnapping of the tiniest ghosts that was most likely going to happen. The children amongst them were cheering for the possible playtime in their future.   

The guards were starting to panic. No one had seen the kid enter, much less bring along that enormous ship of his. The little brat was not supposed to be here!

“Who the freaking hell let Young Blood get in?!” One of the guards hollered.

“It’s fine, I invited him.” Came the cheerful reply from behind the guard. “I’m expanding the lair so the kids have more space to mess around. Just don’t tell them.”

The ghost was startled at the voice but didn’t panic anymore. Instead, they started to relax. They knew that voice, but they needed to confirm-

“P-Phantom?”

Phantom, in full cosplay and sporting the biggest feathered pirate hat on this side of the realms, landed lightly beside the startled ghost with a little chuckle, “Just play along, man.”

“Also, pretty sure there should be a ‘Lord’ in there somewhere.”

“I-I thought you preferred to not be called that, my lord?”

Phantom winced.

“Ah- No. It’s- You know what? Never mind, I keep forgetting you guys don’t really get updates of pop culture on this side of the coin” Phantom frowned. “I really should see about getting some wifi for this place”

He continued to murmur about the updates he would need to do to the tech to make that possible. But the guard was not paying attention to his words anymore. 

They were staring speechless at the whole pirate get-up the halfa had managed to assemble. It had been mostly borrowed last minute — not that the guard knew that—. It looked really good. Especially the gold hoop earrings that kept swaying slightly alongside the fluffy white hair with every motion of Phantom’s head. 

The guard let out a dreamy sigh. 

Their Lord was so cute. 

“How is everything going?”

“Wha-?” Getting suddenly pulled out of their daydreaming 

“The preparations?” Danny hummed distractedly, diligently searching for his journal and pen among the numerous layers of clothing he had donned for the occasion. Why the fuck did this thing have so many pockets? 

“Oh,” Came the ghost’s soft exclamation, suddenly remembering the requests the owner of the keep had left the last time he had come around. Finally emerging victorious from his search, Phantom turned to look at them, raising an eyebrow at the lack of proper explanation “Oh, yes! Everything is going smoothly, and we received the last confirmations this morning, sir.”

Danny smiled at the answer, completely unaware of the effect his playful smile had on the guard and the other ghosts that had started to converge there upon seeing their ‘landlord’. “Awesome.”

That was the last one. 

-.-.-.-

Well, almost the last one.

He must admit that the shell shocked expressions on Sam and Tucker were funny the first few minutes. 

But after having to repeat himself over and over again it had gotten increasingly less funny.

“Y-you are leaving?” Tucker stuttered.

Danny sighed, “Yes, we are leaving. As in, Jazz and me.”

After gaping at him for another few seconds, Sam finally gathered herself enough to start talking again.

“what about the ghost?”

“I- um- already took care of that,“ Danny mumbled, nervously avoiding eye contact while playing with his milkshake straw. “I also cashed in some debts and asked some favors from my allies, so most will be taken care of until we come back. Either way, I will leave enough Fenton Tech for the both of you and Val. Just in case.”

“Enough tech?” Sam repeated incredulously. “That’s it? Just leave some tech and jump boat just like that?” Danny frowned but refrained from answering her until he thought it through. Sam wouldn’t accept less. 

Jump boat? That was not really the case. Jazz and he had really put some thought into this, heck even before the Internship on Loony Capital had come up — specifically, since Jazz’s breakthrough — the siblings had already been toying with ways to get some of the most persistent ghosts to back the fuck off, distract them with better and useful targets or entice them into submission. 

At first, it had been a tentative thing, something fragile that they didn’t let themselves hope for. But with Jazz’s change of course of action, it had become something more urgent. 

They had to pull it off. There were no other options.   

Danny pursed his lips, then took a deep breath to strengthen himself for what was coming. “That’s not it-”

“You are just going to dump us.” She announced like it was final in a harsh whisper. 

At least she was keeping her tone quiet.  

“No one is getting dumped, Sam,” Danny tried to reassure her in the same tone of finality, sans the harshness. “I told you. We already thought this through. I already put some plans in motion and rigged some backups and- ok. Meaby they are not good enough to be permanent but-”

“You are going to put everyone at risk just because Jazz somehow got the ridiculous idea that ‘talking it out’ is the answer” She scoffed.  

“Maybe it is. Maybe not. We won’t know until we try.”

“They are ghosts-”

“So am I.” Danny Interjected. Sam seemed to choke on her next words. 

“You are not a ghost Danny.” She had, somehow, gained a tone even more quiet and harsh than her previous one. 

“Aren’t I?” He was looking directly into her amethyst eyes. Daring her to fight him on this.

He already knew she wouldn’t. 

She had opened her mouth to rebut but closed it immediately after. She took a long breath; most likely to prepare for her next rant than to calm herself. Weighing her options. She didn’t seem willing to have that particular conversation. Not yet. Danny had counted on that. “It’s still a goddamn risk.” She finally countered, a slight sliver of defeat coloring her words.

Maybe he had been a little harsh, but he needed her to understand. “There is risk in every choice I could make. This is not different-”

“What about us?”

Ok, so she was just getting her second wind. Fucking amazing. “Sam, please-”

“We are your friends!”

“And she is my sister!” He finally snapped. 

She startled. Gazing at him speechless for a moment before standing up and storming out of her seat without a backward glance, making the people on her way part like the red sea. Leaving in her wake a bunch of curious persons staring after her and throwing shameless glances to their table. 

So much for not causing a scene in the middle of the Nasty Burger.     

The boys ignored the stares. They were already accustomed to being the focus of attention. Almost never positive, mind you. But that was what cleansings were for. 

Tucker, who had been silent for most of the back and forth, finally spoke.  

“She just needs time to cool off.”  

The Fenton boy would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. Sam had always been very opinionated and believed herself to be right most of the time. In her defense, she usually was right and knew how to go about expressing it to her friends without resorting to this kind of standoff. This just appeared to have struck a nerve.

Living with her parents and having to fight for every single choice she wanted to make had left her on a constant defense mode that the boys had learned to navigate in their years of friendship. It hadn’t been easy for anyone. But neither Danny nor Tucker were perfect. They had their quirky shit to deal with. 

The three of them stuck together and hadn’t bothered to try and expand their friend group that much over the years. Not like they had many options. But that was ok.    

Until now. 

With Danny leaving them the relative feeling of a support system was trembling at its foundation. 

She was probably scared. So was Tucker if the wobbly but sincere smile he was giving him was any indication.

Danny had to admit that when he let himself think about it he got scared too. 

They had been in the same boat for a while and parting ways was not something they had accounted for, not for the near future, at least.  

In a weird way, they still would be in the same boat even after they were apart. Struggling to learn how to function without the other there.  Sam and Tuck would have each other, they were resilient, he was sure they could cope. He would have Jazz like he always had, enough said. And they would keep going like they always did.

Tucker was right. She would come around. But-

Danny slumped on his seat, running a hand through his hair releasing a big sigh.

“Yeah, I know” He murmured looking pensively in the direction their friend had stormed off. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“So, you are not mad?” Danny asked when he finally turned around towards Tucker.

“Nah, man. Just a little squeezy about dealing with this without you. But if your sister is really going to do this she is going to need you there.” Tucker shuddered a little bit. “I have never been there personally but if the social media and forums are not lying Gotham is a goddamn beast dude.”

The halfa hummed in agreement. Not like Amity Park didn’t have its own reputation on their corner of the internet, but still.

Gotham.

Danny took a sip from his milkshake before doing a mental check-list and frowning, “I’m starting to feel like I’m forgetting something” he whispered.  

“Oh god, please don’t say that.”

“It’s okay,” Danny had made his best at planning, so his friends wouldn’t have to deal with the ghost in his absence. But with things like this, you never knew for sure. Not until it slapped you right across the face.“Probably just the paranoia.” ‘I hope’ he finished mentally with a weak laugh.

“Dude,” Tucker started before taking hold of his friend’s hand and squeezing it. “If you need help with anything I’m your man. just say the word.”

Tucker may not understand the full extent of the situation, but he was trying, and that meant a lot to the Fenton. He squeezed back and shot his friend a small but grateful smile. 

“It’s ok. Thanks, Tuck-” He cut himself off, being interrupted by the sudden ding of one of Tucker’s devices. 

The afro American boy ignored the sound though, in favor of putting his full attention on his friend, an action that demonstrated how serious he was with his words, but Danny was already lost in thought, staring intently at the briefly, but brightly, illuminated screen.

“Actually-” The halfa suddenly chirped, turning his full attention back to the boy across the table. Tucker just blinked back, waiting. Danny leaned forward dragging the other boy towards him so he could continue with a whisper. “You could help me with a pair of things.”

The mischievous smile Tucker was witnessing had come out of nowhere and couldn’t presage anything good, but as it was not aimed at him — necessarily — he couldn’t help but join in. 

Several cities over, some of Gotham’s more infamous residents couldn’t find an explanation to the sudden shiver that ran up their spines.

-.-.-.-

When Danny made it back home he didn’t waste time tracking his sister down. She was down in the lab, typing away on the main computer and using one of her shoulders to keep her mobile pressed against her ear.

She was in the middle of a conversation and still managing to rewrite part of the ghost portal code like a pro.

His sister sure loved multitasking. 

At the sound of the door closing behind the younger Fenton, Jazz looked up from the screen to shoot a brief smile to her brother before carrying on with her conversation. 

“Yes. That’s perfect, I will be sending the three files then-”

The boy froze on his step and blinked a pair of times. She was already talking with one of the G. A. proctors? When he left this morning he had just dumped his proposals on Jazz for a second revision. He wasn’t expecting to have them sent already.

Hmm. Well, to be fair, he had rambled at Jazz about his projects relentlessly whenever he had a chance and didn’t feel like death warmed over. 

Which weren’t many times. But once he got into a ramble it was an Olympic endeavor to shut him up. He was a Fenton. It was in their blood. Jazz did it too, even if she tried to chalk it up to healthy-and-completely-natural excitement.

So. Jazz already knew the contents pretty well, it was just a question of pulling off the presentation, which was the thing that Jazz was supposed to check over. 

His sister had given him some tips, and even if his parents were not as invested in the writing process as in the practical, the fruit loop had more than enough experience doing it and didn’t give two flying fucks over whether or not Danny wanted his knowledge.

Danny knew monologing was an essential part of a villainous experience but he had spent way too much time listening to Vlad bitch about most of his employees to last him a lifetime.

Even little Madeline couldn’t stop the loneliness that had brought the madness. Danny had put so many hopes in the fluffy thing.

Letting out a resigned sigh the boy decided to just let it go and be grateful that his sister - who had more than five Universities fighting over her-  deemed it acceptable already. 

He liked writing his ideas down, but using formal language and fudging APA was fucking exhausting.

Good fucking riddance. He thought, shaking his head slightly and sending a light sneer in the computer’s direction. As if the files on it could feel his disdain from his position on the other side of the room. 

Danny spotted some of her sister’s nail polish bottles by her side on the table and made a beeline for them and took most of the little bottles before retreating to a chair on the other side of the desk. 

He had heard some of the cheerleaders saying that the nail polish helped to keep the nails from getting all fucked up quite as easily, and it had caught his attention.

Danny had looked down at his hands and winced. Normally he didn’t pay much attention to his nails, but ever since getting on a constant string of fights he was more aware of how easily the goddamn things could break on you if you didn’t trim them properly, and it hurt like a bitch every time. It always seemed to be the tiniest things that told you to ‘fuck off’ to your face like nothing else.  

Danny guessed that it was worth the try. And if anything, putting some color on them would help hide some of the blood — and ectoplasm — that got under his fingernails. 

So he tried it out.

By this point, he was not sure if it really helped or he was just fooling himself into thinking it did work. The only sure thing was that he didn’t feel comfortable going without it anymore.

Danny liked to borrow the clear nail protector from Jazz, but most of the polish he had in his possession had been previously Sam’s. All pastels and cheery colors that her mom kept insisting on buying her because they kept being used.

“Thank you, Miss Gordon!”

If she had bothered to pay more attention to her daughter’s friends for more than sneering at them she may have noticed Danny’s pastel pink nails. But she hadn’t. And that had just ensured Danny a constant supply of pastels to cover his bloodied nails with-

“So, how did it go?”

“Uh.” The boy startled at the sudden proximity of the voice. He looked up from his nails and to his sister, who was now seated beside him. 

“The execution.” Jazz prodded, smiling at him in anticipation. It looked downright creepy, considering the words she used.

“Seriously Jazz?” He snorted. “You make it sound like I went there to dispatch murder at random.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” His sister scoffed, watching how her brother resumed painting his nails.  “They are already dead. You couldn’t kill them any more than they already are.”

“I could certainly try.”

“Danny-”

“Let’s just say the all-nighter paid off, and leave it at that.”

“So you had fun.” She teased. Stealing back one of the bottles of polish to finish her own nails with a second coat.  

“For the most part, but-” He stopped, struggling to find words to describe the sheer mayhem that went down in the zone-  

Jazz just hummed and gave him a little nod, still focusing on her nails. Danny relaxed. He could tell her later. When he had cooled off some more from the attack-protect mode he got into whenever he visited the zone. Remembering it all right now would just set him off again.  

“So, what do you want for dinner?” The redhead asked suddenly.

Danny blinked a pair of times, perplexed, and stole a look at the clock.“It’s a little late to be asking that, don’t you think?”

“I suppose, but I decided to wait for you and then got sidetracked with the files.” She really needed to work on her awareness of time. “Didn’t even notice the hour.”

“I don’t even remember what we have in the cupboards.”

“Maybe we could-” She didn’t manage to suggest something before she got interrupted by their mother’s voice.

“Dinner is ready!”

“They made dinner?” Danny whispered to Jazz in dread. 

“So it seems,” she responded, sharing his dread.

“Why did they make dinner? They never make dinner!”

“I mean, they do for special occasions, like-” She shuddered. “Like thanksgiving.”

This was ridiculous. Jazz and he were normally the ones cooking. Their parents spent most of their time in the lab or trying to hunt down ghosts. Today was not a holiday. They hadn’t invented anything new worth the ‘celebration’. There wasn’t a reason for them to-

“Oh! and Vlad is here~!”

Danny slammed his face against the desk with a groan.

Jazz winced at the sound. 

“Time to face the music, little bro” She closed the polish bottles and patted him carefully on the back a few times before standing up and going to the kitchen. 

“I still feel like I’m forgetting something…” Danny grumbled under his breath before following his sister upstairs.

-.-.-.-

It was the last Friday of the month and this could perfectly be one of Jazz’s many attempts to make them a functional family unit. 

Except that the Fenton girl had let said efforts slip in favor of pursuing her little brother’s scholarship. 

Oh, And the fruitloop was here. 

Vlad had weaseled into the family’s — unplanned — plans because of course, he did.

“Everything looks absolutely lovely Madeline.”

Jazz would have believed his words. If she hadn’t seen the man poke at the food on the table with the wariness of a man on the death warrant whenever mom was not looking.

The siblings had spent way too many family dinners doing the same thing whenever they couldn’t quite manage to keep the older Fentons off the kitchen. And even when they did, they didn’t lower their guard. The chance of contamination was always a latent threat to the house. 

Jazz turned her head slightly to look at her brother. The boy was, very pointedly, not poking at his food and just watched it with all the scorn he could gather. He refused to do the same things as Vlad, which didn’t mean he was crazy enough to try and eat the food on his plate.

The dinner proceeded with making some catching up, abundant science talk, teasing, scathing remarks, sighing, and finally dissolved in a three-way match between the Fenton children and one Vlad Masters to see who could dispose of the food in the most sneaky way.  

She had always wondered how the man survived with her parents for as long as he did back in their college years. She knew now.  

“Oh! And Jazzrinces finally decided on a college! The G.S.A. is backing up her research on ghosts! Isn’t that incredible?!”

Vlad smiled blandly at Jack. Skillfully suppressing the sneer the man’s cheeriness was trying to invoke to his face. He had lots of practice.

“And Danny decided to tag along to help his sister! Isn’t he such a sweet boy?” Maddie added with a cheer a little more forced than her husband’s. But still, cheer.

Now, that. That got Vlad’s attention. And he decided to take advantage of the children’s distraction to get more information and decide a proper plan of action. 

Dany was making it a point to completely ignore the three adult’s conversation. Jazz stuck to taking small sips from her glass of water. That was, until-

“Surely you’re not planning on sending them without some proper equipment, are you?” Vlad tutted. “Don’t get me started on weapons. I mean you never know for certain what will be indispensable, right?”

“That’s a wonderful idea!”

The heads of both children snapped up. 

“I mean, most of my research isn’t-” Jazz tried hastily to stop this on its tracks. 

Sadly, it was not to be.  

“Nonsense Jazz,” Her mom interrupted her, “It’s better to be prepared!”

Vlad hummed in agreement, “They won’t, after all, have anyone else to protect them from those trashy ghosts.”

Just like that, the Fenton parents started to list out loud all the things the kids would surely need for the research.  

Vlad smirked.

Danny narrowed his eyes at the pompous fucker.

Jazz resigned herself to keep sighing until the end of times.

-.-.-.-

“How are we supposed to take this with us..?” Danny whispered looking horrified at all the equipment his parents had just thrown their way

“Can’t you just put it in the thermos?”

“The ectoplasmic energies of each Item would clash horribly” Danny winced 

“You tried to…?” Jazz side-eyed him

“Yes.” He said curtly, “Wouldn’t really recommend” he continued with the air of someone haunted by the consequences of their life choices. death choices. Both were accurate, she supposed.

Jazz swallowed.

Cue in more silent horrified staring at the equipment.

“Maybe if we start with some boxes-”

“BEWARE!!! THE BOX GHOST!!!”

“Oh my god-!”  

“I Fucking knew it!!”

-.-.-.-

A little while after, once the ghost box was gone, and the siblings had retreated to Jazz’s room for safety and the opportunity of proper evening gossip. The fruitloop came barging into the room. 

“Ok. I raided the kitchen. There is nothing edible in this house. How do you even survive.” He stated, not asked, in a deeply judgemental tone.

“Magic. Pokemon Magic.” Danny deadpanned from his place on the bed. Jazz, who was cuddled beside him, was still chewing on the dry crackers that managed to survive the onslaught of their parents, for the simple reason that the things had been in her room. 

Vlad sighed and started to massage his temples. 

“Fine. Truce. Grab your things, we are going out.” 

Jazz slightly choked on her crackers. Danny just choked on air. “What? Where-?”

“To get some proper food, of course.” The man sneered like it was completely obvious and tagging a smirk on for good riddance.

“Why would-” 

“You have directions. I have the money. Chop chop. Before your parents catch us.” With that, the millionaire turned around and left, leaving the door wide open fully expecting them to follow along. 

The siblings stared at each other for a moment before scrambling after Vlad. 

Food was more important than playing the archnemesis-game. 

For the hundred time that day:

Priorities.

ENDNOTES:

I couldn’t help the fucking references. Danny is a dork and I am ashamed.

-.-.-.-

I headcanon Danny as someone who really likes pet names, be it because he really likes the person or because it pisses them off. Two stones a deader bird.

-.-.-.-

What do you mean The Avengers aren’t a boyband?

-.-.-.-

The siblings are firm believers of the borrowing culture. There is no shame in asking to borrow some things.

Are those Ember’s hat & earrings? Yes. Yes, they are.

Why does Danny have his ears pierced, you ask? BECAUse there is no absolute heteronormative bullshit in this household AND I MUST ADD THAT-!

-Danny & Jazz watched ‘The parent trap’ when they were small little beans and were really interested in whether or not piercing your sibling’s ears was the ultimate bonding moment.    

Jazz insisted on researching a lot more about proper sterilizing, mind you- but like the tiny feral unsupervised cupcakes they were, they decided to try it.

Jazz already had her ears pierced, SO, yeah.

It hurt like a bitch for Danny, and Jazz panicked for a week afterward about infections, but it was indeed a good bonding moment.  

-.-.-.-

If I ship Jason with some fucking therapy does that mean I can ship him with Jazz?

Ship’s name is JJ for you.

… I just gave myself YOI flashbacks.

Fuck.

-.-.-.-

You might want to say: ‘but author-san, those are not all the ghosts Danny deals with?’, and you are damn right they aren’t, but you must trust in Danny thousand-back-ups Fenton, my children.

(Also, where would be the fun if everyone was accounted for since now? You will see what went down later on. :p)

-.-.-.-

Don’t know if you noticed, but Jazz is not the only one that thinks Danny is a cutie patootie :v

Danny has long ago resigned himself to the being called “Lord” thing. Is better than the ‘K’ word.

-.-.-.-

The thing about the nails is something I do. I started because they looked pretty, I kept painting them because I felt they broke up more easily if I didn’t put like three coats of polish on them.

At least I don’t bite them as much anymore. :p

-.-.-.-

If there is someone on this green earth that knows about the struggles of living with Jack and Maddie Fenton, that someone is Vlad Masters.

Change my mind.

You can’t.

[ultimaterealmofchaos]

what are your honest thought about your muse’s canon? [all your dr canons :3 ]

the source!! (accepting!!)

all of my dr canons???? holy shit here we go

starting with our favorite ultimate musician ibuki: first off???? we all know how i feel about ibuki. she’s my absolute favorite sdr2 character, and i’m about 99.9% sure she’s my favorite danganronpa character overall. but of course, i have a few criticisms. not about her specifically, i don’t think, i think she’s fine, but like... how the game handled her??? okay so i’ve seen a lot of criticism online about her (and this is probably my own fault for going to the danganronpa subreddit), saying that she’s annoying, she adds nothing to the story, there’s no reason for her existence, etc. and honestly that isn’t a problem that’s specific to ibuki. it’s made pretty clear if you really look at it that she only exists to end up dead, which i think is a real problem with the writing of the series overall. and since all my muses end up dead in some form here, that’s a common criticism that i’m going to point out right here right now and never again in this post. but ibuki herself suffers from that she’s incredibly surface-level with only a deeper side underneath if you choose to pursue it. and like. obviously i’m not asking for her to be the deepest character in the lore, that’s not what she is, and obviously she’s... not written to be the smartest character at all, but i wish they had done her a little differently, and not hidden all her insightfulness in free time events. because. she’s smart. she doesn’t see herself as smart, but she is. and i wish they’d shown that more. and honestly??? you are telling me that she is the ultimate musician, yet nobody in her class likes her music?! that many people in there and not a single soul actually likes it??? chunsoft you’re fuckin’ playing with me here and i don’t like it. come on. make up your damn minds. ffs.

also why’d she have to die that’s some bullshit. she was cool af and i’m still salt about it. 

this is going to get long and ridiculous bc i have so many of them so i’m hiding the rest under a cut.

next up is sakura!!! i actually think sakura was done quite well, honestly. granted, it was the first game, so i don’t think any of us saw the twist with her coming, but it was done really well! and her eventual death definitely suited her character. i never thought she’d be one to kill anyone, and i was glad that i was proven right, even though i was really upset with her death (just like i was with just about every other one lmao). from a meta standpoint, i really like how they took the tough-girl-who-even-looks-”manly” thing and sorta turned it on its head a bit (like, i’m not going to lie, i legit thought she was a guy at first who just happened to be wearing a girl’s school uniform and i think just about everyone does). her relationship with hina that built over the course of the game was something that was needed for her, imo, as it helps us as players sort of humanize her a bit and not just see her as this massive devastating block of muscle. i like how they managed to portray that even if she’s stoic as fuck on the outside, she really cares about everyone in her class, and that’s just shown by her death itself. they even managed to convey a sort of degree of softness with her, as shown by her relationship with hina and how hina was just about the only one that wasn’t initially scared shitless of her. idk man dr1 really did its characterization really well for danganronpa and they never really got that right again, did they? it’s a shame, really.

next up is our favorite bitch. junko enoshima. dear. god. i love her so much, and i love to hate her so much. the way she acts, the way she uses mukuro for her own gain, the way she switches personalities on the drop of a hat, the way she pretty much thought all this shit up on her own (with mukuro as well i’m assuming but let’s be real here it was honestly all her)... she’s a fucking unapologetic bastard and we love her for it. honestly i always look forward to playing a danganronpa game i haven’t already played because i’m dying to see how they’re shoehorning her in. because. it’s not dr without her. i’m sorry. it’s just not. sometimes villains are villains just because. they don’t have to have a deep backstory as to why they’re the way they are, and junko is a wonderful example of that. i love her. i’m biased. i love her sm.

next is miu. oh, dear, sweet miu. she’s the fanservicey character who makes things sometimes. that’s it. there’s one of these in every game. and you know what? having a fanservicey character is fine. to me, anyway. you do you, guys. but honestly i find miu kind of insulting in a way. no, not because she’s vulgar as fuck; guys, i am vulgar as fuck, especially after having a couple drinks, okay, i can sympathize in a way with her. no, what i’m insulted by is that they had the audacity to make her the ultimate inventor, and then fuckin’ reduce her to swearing, sex jokes, and vulgarity. like. inventors are smart as fuck. ya kinda need to be in order to invent things, right? especially doing it as consistently as she does. i mean, fuck, she provided whole things for the plot, for fuck’s sake. and they still reduce her to a dumb blonde who’s obsessed with kiibo and sexual innuendos. come on. do better. let’s go. she can still keep her vulgar tendencies, just.... god, i don’t even know how to fix her, but i hate her characterization even though overall i still like her quite a lot. learn to write women, you fucks; how did you get it more right in dr1 than in v3. and we’re not gonna even talk about the canonical ending because i see that differently than most people and it has nothing to do with what i’m talking about, which is what we see in 95% of the game. 

next: our favorite bug boy gonta. it should be no secret that i love gonta. i love him. so much. the only character that is second to my love for gonta is korekiyo. i love korekiyo so much too. but this isn’t about him. it’s about gonta. again, we are bending the trope of big-character-is-terrifying and i really appreciate that in gonta’s case. like with sakura. ahaha. what can i say, i’m really weak for that sort of thing, i guess. but he suffers from the same shallowness that miu and even ibuki does. they tried to give him some more depth, but i don’t think it really worked. and like. come on. a guy who was raised by wolves for years and doesn’t really know how to interact with people now being in a killing game with a bunch of them???? shit, there’s so much you can do with that!! but no. we didn’t go there. much like we didn’t go there for everyone who wasn’t shuichi, kaito, maki, or kokichi. (ok shuichi gets a pass but you know.) idk man it’s probably because i didn’t do everyone’s free time events because there’s literally no way to do so, but i’m kind of salty about how v3 just treated its characters. all of them have potential. it just wasn’t reached. at all. unless it was the main four. they all deserve better. 

lastly, we have mikan. and boy. do i have a lot to say about mikan. so, going into this, i want to say that i am an abuse victim. there, it’s out in the open. so, knowing that... some stuff about her makes sense. especially when you consider that she, too, is an abuse victim. and others. just. do not. she deserved better. she deserved so much better. and what made me the most incensed about this is her goddamn anniversary outfit. they only saw and used mikan as fanservice. why would you use an abuse victim as fucking fanservice i’m gonna fuckin’ riot. like. she’s traumatized as fuck. her despair disease shit makes a lot of sense, don’t get me wrong. it’s suitable for her that things happened the way they did with that. but for fuck’s sake. “oh haha look at that mikan fell again, face down ass up that’s the way she likes to--” stop. she deserves better. i’m mad about it. it’s not funny. stop doing mikan so fuckin’ dirty, you assholes. i’m taking her and i’m making her better. so fuck you.

anyway that’s it :3 i’m sorry this turned out to be so long aslkdjfal. i hope i answered the question sufficiently enough :333

[diazpoems]

Me watching Riverdale, Episode 2:

Why’s Betty so upset??? Did I miss something??? Sometimes people just don’t like each other that way and Archie has no obligation to her and besties code is fucking stupid so she shouldn’t be sensibly mad at Veronica either

Not the scene where Jughead’s narrating and does the flashback and Jason passes and it’s suitably queercoded

Ewwww Archie and the teacher

Can you shut the fuck up, Betty’s mom. Unless there’s more significant history behind this I don’t wanna hear it. If you were bullied by the Blossoms I could give a fuck, you’re still wearing pearls, I think you’re fine

Brooo jughead is me. Fuck PE

“ARE WE SURE ARCHIE IS STRAIGHT”

I’m still a little concerned. I sorta ship Jughead with Archie but I don’t want to stomp over his aroace identity.

Bro they weren’t together stop apologizing Veronica. She has no claim on him. Yeah you tried to push them together but what happened happened get the fuck over it

Oh no this town is small enough to have a sheriff

If Archie and the teacher came forward about what happened on the fourth then... idk. Maybe it’s because of the repercussions for Archie but I’m fine with her getting arrested because fucking GROSS

Hmmm yeah I’m with jughead what happened arch??? 🤨

Oh no what’s up with Kev and the closet case

Yeah. I don’t blame people for being closeted if that’s where they feel most comfortable but it’s hard to date a closeted person

ARE YOU OKAY YOU STONE COLD BITCH

I’m just happy archies more than a set of abs

His voice is kinda weird for his body... is that just me??? He just sounds different than I expected

BETTY ITS NOT THAT DEEP HE JUST DOESNT LIKE YOU

SERIOUSLY AM I MISSING SOMETHING

BETTY SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP LIFE FUCKING HAPPENS GET OVER IT

Oop, Archie got fucking caught

This is unhealthy Archie please get the fuck away from her. I know it’s not that easy but please this isn’t good it’s not real, don’t kiss her, this is wrong as fuck

Yes Jughead please snoop

Okay but um cheryl looks pretty

OH MY GOD STOP BEING A FUCKING BITCH BETTY. STOP IT. YOURE FUCKING STUPID. ITS NOT HER FAULT YOUR FRIENDSHIP IS FUCKED. ITS YOURS. YOURE MAKING IT SUCH A BIG DEAL. I ALREADY HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS IN MIDDLE SCHOOL I DONT NEED THIS NONSENSE AGAIN. USE YOUR HEAD.

I started out anticipating hating Veronica but she’s the only one besides Jughead and Archie I find moderately tolerable

Varchie has nice chemistry.

Ohhhh so he kissed her when they were little. Still doesn’t change how annoying she’s being

Oh god oh god Cheryl sitting in front of Betty and doing her makeup oh god oh god I’m gay that’s some sapphic shit

Speaking of mean alpha bitch sapphics that I’ll probably end up love-hating she reminds me of Carrie from jatp

I think Cheryl might have a legitimate disorder. I’m not kidding or trying to be mean. I think it might be a possibility

Not jealous Jughead but also Jughead trying to explain that this is fucking stupid.

SHES A LITERAL FUCKING COUGAR. HE. IS. RIGHT. THIS IS PREDATORY

Breakup vibes. I mean I hate to reduce it to that but that’s how it feels.

My new favorite character is Jughead. I relate to him so much

Betty’s mom is probably Christian huh.

Alice can you fucking stop

Yay!!! They’re making up and Betty is admitting she was dumb!!!

Off topic but I’m super hungry my tummy hurts :(

Can you shut up Reggie. And you never responded so I’m going to have to assume you can’t spell necrophilia

YES PROTECT HIM ARCHIE

I’m staying up late watching this cause I’m sick and I can’t get to sleep. I’m miserable lmao

I like Kevin

The way Archie looks over at Jughead and he looks away

This is so... gay.

“We’re not gonna hug in front of this whole town!”

The way his gaze lingers on Jughead as he steps back, and then he looks over his shoulder in the next shot

What state is Riverdale in

That is some of the baddest fucking twerking I’ve ever seen, not that I see that on the regular, but I have no idea what that is lmao

That song was a bop tho

Huh, upstate New York I guess

Cheryl’s got ✨trauma✨

Okay I actually understand Cheryl’s loss. Like not precisely. But that’s what you think. When it hits you, it hits you hard. “They’re gone” “They were supposed to come back” “Why aren’t they here” I find that pretty authentic

Okay okay I can start liking Betty again I’ll forgive her this time

Not Archie walking in with Jughead and it suddenly hitting me like “they look like a couple”

I love Jugheads voice. I don’t think it’s because there’s anything necessarily remarkable about it but it’s just nice

“The luckiest redheaded boy in the universe” please????? 🥺

[crossbows-and-moonshine]

Let The Flames Begin (Chapter 28)

Angst, flashbacks and determination.

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

The slight chatter of conversation outside of the tent roused Daryl from his peaceful slumber. He went to roll onto his side but a weight was pinning him in place. He opened his eyes confused, only to see Charlene snoring softly with her head on his chest. The memories of the night before flooded him and his stomach flipped around on him. Remembering how her lips felt, her body felt pressed against his. He blinked as he stared at the roof of the tent. This couldn't be happening, it wasn't possible. Charlene was perfect, there wasn't a chance in hell she would be interested in someone like him. Did she hit her damn head or something? What if it was worse that than? What if this was all some trick to get him back for being such an asshole? What if she had figured out he liked her and she was using it to hurt him, since he hurt her all the time when he lashed out? His mind was once again poisoning and tainting everything that happened the night before. Good things didn't happen to a Dixon, and this was no exception. It had to be a fucking trick. The panic started clawing at him and he felt like he couldn't breathe the more he thought about it.

He scooted out from under her, successfully not waking her as he stuffed his booted on hurriedly and grabbed his bow. He all but dived from the tent, stalking off to the woods without giving anyone a glance. His chest was heaving as he tried to make his fucking head shut up. He felt angry and he felt fucking depressed. Why had he let it happen? He should have known from the get-go it was all a bunch of bullshit. She wouldn’t ever willingly kiss him because she wanted to. She was just trying to get him back for all the shit he’d ever done to her. And now he’d finally had a taste of her and he was itching for more, but he knew it wouldn't happen. He heard footsteps behind him but he made no move to turn around as he continued to stomp off.

“The fuck ya want Merle?” he snapped, still not turning to look as he walked into the trees.

“I’m wonderin’ why the hell ya just flew outta ya tent like a bat out of hell,” Merle frowned, jogging a little to catch up with him. Daryl stopped walking, glaring at the floor. He looked off to the side, chewing his lower lip before he heaved a sigh and shrugged his broad shoulders.

“Me and Charlene kissed last night,” he muttered, his cheeks heating up at admitting it.

“Shit now brother! Ya finally got a set of balls and made a move? I’m proud of ya!” Merle laughed gleefully, earning a glare from Daryl.

“She told me she liked me first. And I couldn't say it back. Just fuckin’ kissed her instead,” he glowered.

“Ya wanna tell me why ya got a face like a smacked ass then? Ain't it a good thing?” Merle asked confused as Daryl continued to scowl at him.

“‘Cause it's all a bunch of bullshit, that's why,” he sneered, stalking off once more.

He was halted when Merle grabbed the scruff of his shirt and tugged him back and he growled. He fucking hated it when his brother manhandled him like that. He turned to glare at Merle and Merle gave him that look. The one that made him lower his eyes instantly and relax his posture a little. When Merle was satisfied he wasn't about to bolt again, he let go of his shirt.

“C’mon, spit it out. ‘Cause I sure as fuck don’t know what's goin’ on in that fucked up head of yers little brother,” Merle frowned. It was all over the boys face; anger, sadness. Merle wasn't quite sure how a fucking kiss had reduced him to this. Not when he knew his little brother had liked her for the longest time.

“She ain't like me that way Merle. I’m a Dixon, ya know how it is. What the fuck she want with a piece of shit like me? It's just a plan to get me back for all the bullshit I pulled on her,” Daryl scowled, not able to look at him. Merle shook his head, reaching out and thwacking his brother harshly around the head.

“The hell Merle?!” Daryl yelled, rubbing his head that was now fucking aching.

“Ya dumb piece a shit, ya gotta fuck up anythin’ good that comes along ya way? Tiny ain’t no schemin’ bitch, and trust me when I say I know one when I fuckin’ see one. Ya know this, she’s as sweet as fuckin’ sugar that girl. So what the fuck are ya yappin’ on about?” he asked harshly. The look he gave Daryl made him swallow thickly, his cheeks flaming. He felt like a scolded child.

He knew on some level his brother was right. Charlene wasn’t the type to scheme or do something shady like this. But it was the only logical reason in his mind as to why she had kissed him or said that she liked him. It wasn't possible for it to be true.

“What else is it then huh? She don't fuckin’ like me that way,” he scoffed, shaking his head.

“Boy, I’m about a second away from whoopin’ yer ass into the mud. She kissed ya back, told ya she likes ya, and ya gonna stand here and spout this bullshit? At least she had the fuckin’ balls to make a damn move,” Merle sneered. Daryl squinted at him a little, clenching his fist by his side.

“She made a move to fuck with my head! Ain’t no other explanation for it unless she lost her damn mind when she got lost,” he spat, taking a step back. Merle let him this time and watched as he stalked off once more. He knew his brother was a little fucked up in the head but this shit was ridiculous. He finally got what he wanted and he couldn't even be happy about it. He had to make it into something twisted and evil.

When Charlene woke up, she was alone. She sat up confused and frowning as she glanced around. Like she expected Daryl to just appear. Of course he didn't though. She got her boots on and climbed out of the tent, her eyes scanning the area. Once again, no Daryl. She walked over to Merle who was sat there carving something out of wood.

“Where’s Daryl?” she asked, her cheeks flushing when she remembered the night before. It made her feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush and she had to fight the smile that wanted to break through.

“He went out to hunt,” Merle said with a sigh, glancing up at her. She tilted her head, reading his expression and she rolled her eyes as she shook her head.

“He freaked out again didn’t he?” she scoffed. Merle's eyes widened a little at how well she clearly knew his brother. He stood up, stretching out his back a little.

“Of course he did, he's fuckin’ Daryl,” he snorted, making her heave a large sigh, her heart sinking.

“Look, it ain’t you alright? He's convinced last night was you tryin’ to get ya own back on him for bein’ an asshole. I told him it ain’t the way it is. I mean shit girl, I’ve known ya liked him for fuckin’ ages. But he ain’t wanna listen to me. Ya know how stubborn he is. He’s convinced ya don’t like him, that ya too good for him,” Merle said quietly. There wasn't any point in beating around the bush here. He knew she would be hurt if he didn't tell her the real reason why Daryl was acting like a little bitch again.

Charlene looked at him with a nod, digesting his words. It didn't surprise her that Daryl would think something like that. The boy had issues and his issues had fucking issues. She hated that he had been through so much in his life that it made him this way. She couldn't bring herself to be mad at him for freaking out, she knew this was a lot for him. She was glad Merle told her. It made her think back to the very first time she had met Merle. She was sure he had no memory of it. He had been wasted at the time but that was the first time she met him, and that day she felt like she saw the real Merle Dixon.

~

Charlene sat by the lake, sniffling as she wiped her eyes. She would come here sometimes with her friends. Having fun and swimming. But she was here alone today, she was here to escape the pain she was feeling. The black dress she wore felt like it was mocking her and the 18-year-olds hair was pinned up all fancy. Her aunt had done it for her that morning. Her mother's funeral had been a nice service, but she couldn't appreciate any of it. Not when she felt so bitter at the loss of her. She had been so convinced her mother would get better again, she felt like she had been blindsided by this. She couldn't stay there a minute longer. She had no desire to attend the wake or be around her father any longer. Not when he had been drinking from the second he woke up.

He wasn't a nice drunk. But that wasn't the only issue. She hated seeing him like this. She had lost her mother but he had lost his soul mate. And now the man that was once so devout in his faith had turned his back on God altogether, and she wasn't surprised. She heard someone walking down the dirt path and she looked over. Her teary eyes blinked a little at the man that stood there. It was Merle Dixon. She hadn't ever spoken to him. She had a crush on Daryl, had done since the few months before when she saw him for the first time outside of Anna’s house. Daryl intimidated her a little. But it wasn't anything to do with the bullshit people said about him. He was just so gruff and manly, and when she would see him it made her insides feel all wobbly. Merle though, she knew a lot of the shit people said was true about him. And she knew he was in and out of prison for all sorts of shit.

“The fucks this?” he slurred slightly. She noticed then the bottle of whiskey in his hands as he sauntered over to her. She sat up straighter not really knowing what to expect. He stood there, blinking down at her for a moment as she watched him warily.

“Yer that young'un that hangs around with Billy's sister,” he stated, recognising her it seemed. She wiped her eyes and nodded, glancing at the floor.

“Charlene,” she muttered. A weird silence descended over them and she was about to get up and leave.

“Why ya out here alone cryin’? Dangerous out here by yaself,” he huffed. She shrugged, she didn’t really care what happened to her anymore.

”I just needed to get away. It was my mom's funeral today,” she admitted. Saying the words out loud brought a fresh batch of tears to her eyes as a wave of pain hurt her. She heard him heave a sigh before he moved to sit opposite her, plonking the bottle of alcohol next to him.

“Heard about ya Ma, she was a good woman,” Merle mused, shocking her a little. He was nothing like how she expected from everything she heard about him. She just nodded, the lump in her throat getting worse by the second. Her mother was a good woman and she hated God for this, for taking her away from her. She glanced at him, watching as he took a sip of the whiskey and put it back down.

“It's a hard thing, losin’ ya momma. Were ya close?” he asked curiously. She wasn't sure why the fuck he was sat there with her talking about this but she sniffled and nodded.

“She was my best friend. I really thought she’d get better, like she did last time. But she just…” she shook her head, tears streaming down her face once more. She was startled when she felt Merle pat her hand somewhat awkwardly. She snorted bitterly, wiping her eyes out of anger.

“I know it's hard. I remember how bad it was when our Ma died. She wouldn't want ya to sit here mopin’ though girl. Ya gotta be strong,” he insisted firmly. She squinted at him a little with a huff.

“What's the point?” she lamented. She was getting angry that her tears wouldn't fucking stop as she swiped at her eyes again.

“The point is the fact that yer still here. Ya momma might be gone, but yer not. Ya wanna sit here cryin’ about it forever, then fine. But I’ll tell ya somethin’, she’s gonna be up there watchin’ ya and be fuckin’ disappointed. Don't ya wanna make her proud, be the strong woman she always wanted ya to be?” he asked pointedly. He was strangely coherent for a drunk person and she blinked at him dumbly for a second. His words were weirdly comforting and it was ironic it was Merle that was saying these things. The man who everyone in town thought was the vilest person on the planet. She had cried at the funeral. Bawled her damn eyes out and the only person to comfort her was her best friend Anna. Even her own family didn't bother. And here Merle Dixon was giving her a pep talk, talking time out of his day to sit with her.

“Does it ever get easier?” she asked weakly, blinking her sad eyes at him. He licked his lower lip and looked down.

“Ain't gonna lie. It never goes away. I still think about my Ma all the damn time. Hell, all I have to do is mention her and Daryl flies into a rage. But it does ease up. Ya can’t let it break ya girlie, I know ya stronger than that,” he insisted. She straightened up a little, taking a deep breath. He was right. She could do this, she could push past the pain, she had no choice. Who else was going to pick up the pieces now? Her father was in no frame of mind anymore.

“Thanks Merle,” she smiled, making him snort and look away like he looked awkward.

“Right, c’mon,” he said gruffly as he stood, swaying on his feet just a little.

“What?” she asked confused, making him chuckle.

“I’mma walk ya home. Ain't gonna let ya walk home in the dark now am I?” he snorted, like it was obvious.

That was the day Charlene saw the real Merle Dixon, not the one everyone always made him out to be. Was he perfect? Not in the least and she found that out herself years later when he would come to her work and say all kinds of shit to her. But she knew underneath it all was someone else, a person not many got to see. It was the reason she would grit her teeth and smile politely when he started with his usual bullshit at the store or diner.

~

“You know what? No, I’m not letting him do this,” Charlene huffed, making Merle quirk a brow at her curiously.

“He always wants to run away, or to lash out so I run away. I’m done with this bullshit. We finally found out we like each other and he wants to do this again? I’m not letting him. I’ll tell him everything he thinks is a bunch of shit. Let him try to tell me I’m lying,” she said defiantly. Merle grinned at her, he knew his brother was about to get a fucking ear full when he got back and he was glad. Maybe having the girl outright tell him this would help. Like she said, how could he tell her she was lying to her face?

“Alright, but wait ‘til he gets back. Ain’t have ya runnin’ off in the woods after him alone,” Merle said sternly, making her snort.

“Okay dad,” she grinned, laughing as he squinted at her, his jaw slack. If she confronted Daryl and he still wanted to act this way, then it was fine. Then at least she knew it was doomed and there wasn’t point in even trying. But she really hoped she could break through to him and make him see sense.

Taglist; @risingphoenix761 @daryldixonandfrogs @arlaina28 @divadinag @keeperofwonderlandus @jodiereedus22 @easnuppa @fand0m-fiend @txladyj-blog @walkingdead-dixon

[cosmicroadkill]

In which I rant about Homestuck and Girls

I don’t hate the girls in Homestuck but I do hate how the fandom and even the source material handles them. I cannot stand how Nepeta is often reduced to this cutesy little girl who needs Equius to hold her hand, how Aradia’s personality is basically just straight-up ignored, or how Kanaya is sometimes either made the Mom Friend for gags or the Sexy Lesbian Vampire as if she has no other traits. I hate how Terezi and Feferi are treated like they did nothing wrong, as if Terezi didn’t get John KILLED on one timeline, and Fef’s ideals weren’t thinly veiled/rose-colored castism, and don’t even get me STARTED on Vriska.

I want to like Vriska, not only because I’m a Scorpio but because for the most part, she really is a badass, but she’s also a giant fucking bitch who never really faces the consequences of her actions. The closest we get is Tavros telling her off towards the end and even that is mild compared to her: Paralyzing him under the claims of making him stronger Murdering him later  Making Sollux murder Aradia  Blinding Terezi  Using John to one-up Terezi (which Terezi also did with Dave which is kinda fucked on both their parts, like wtf) 

True, she feels genuine remorse for killing Tavros but that doesn’t stop her from treating him like shit in the afterlife. And after all of this she STILL gets to be the hero of the story, she STILL gets to be the one thing that basically fixes the timeline, she ultimately gets what she wants and I hate it.  

And then there’s Terezi; cool, cooky, I love her scalemates and her serious knowledge about Alternian law and loyalty to her friends but the way she (and Kanaya for that matter) lets herself get wrapped up in Vriska’s bullshit is so, ugh! Like I pointed out, her whole thing with Dave started out as a competition between her and Vriska (I think she even says as much? I’d have to go back and check) which is shitty because she literally fucking uses Dave’s own insecurities when it comes to John to push him forward at her pace. Granted, both her and Vris kinda ease up and turn it into a friendship with their respective humans but that doesn’t exactly excuse the behavior. (I’m not too happy that they both lead into relationships the more I think about it, even if they both eventually fell through. That’s just, that’s not a good way to start a relationship).

There’s already a comprehensive post about Feferi’s shit/possible shit.

And then you have Kanaya, Nepeta, and Aradia who basically get their personalities fuckin neutered by a good portion of the fandom. While the Mom Friend jokes can be funny with Kan, its overplay and kinda tiring though admittedly preferable to Diva persona I saw a lot of people give her in early fandom, and anyone who makes Nepeta into a weak, baby owo girl who needs Equius to protect her is gonna catch these hands because Nep has proved to be one of the strongest and most capable of the trolls; fucking Equius would take out your kneecaps if he heard you talking about her that way. And Aradia? Like shit, it's like some of y’all just completely ignored her after she godtiered. (I know her personality was present before that but after is when she really shined) She’s funky and weird and kinda creepy and I wish more people would like be into that you know? Like I wish she and Jake and Dave could have been friends because you know those three would have gotten into so much trouble together.

Which leads to the human girls and gods do I wanna scream. Rose’s more “dorky” interests like writing wizard stories, gaming (as she was the most excited of the four for sburb if memory serves me) are often ignored in favor of playing her off as the “cool gof GF”. She’s not cool, none of the Strilonds are actually cool in the common sense of the words, they’re all fucking dorks. She literally psychoanalysis her friends for fun and spends a whole page (2 pages?) butchering sports with Dave. 

Jade, I found, was often dumbed down to the ditzy “blond” friend for a while, though I’m not sure if that still pervades her tag or not, but I have another beef with her that I’ll get to in a second. 

Roxy is often toted as the end all be all of NonProblematic Kids when they have Emotionally Abused Dirk  Almost killed Jane  Acted like Jake was stupid (then again, most of his friends did)  That’s not to say Roxy doesn’t TRY; they’re very aware of the harm they’ve caused to their friends and actively try to do better but that, like Terezi, that doesn’t mean you just get to ignore the shit they did. 

And Jane, Christ, Jane. She gets kicked by the majority of the fandom and even her friends and few times but the moment she claps back or makes a mistake (like telling Roxy she liked them better when they were drunk), she gets dunked on by what feels like everyone and their mother. Yes, Jane can be shitty at times but considering  Her crush basically manipulated her into the friendzone and then nonstop talked about his boyfriend problems for months (including on her OWN BIRTHDAY)  She was fatshamed and sexually harrassed(?) by Caliborn Roxy blew up her computer which could have killed her  Everything in general just going to shit Can you really blame her? Granted that doesn’t mean she should get away with the horrible things she’s said/done either like the aforementioned Roxy convo or, at least to some extent, her threats of sexual slavery against Jake. 

Which brings me to my big issue I mentioned with Jade; What’s with the human girls getting their agency stolen? Grimdark/bark, Trickster, Crockertier?? Like seriously, wtf?? Granted, Trickster happened to all the alpha kids and they were mostly aware so that one’s a little grasping for straws but the others? Like wtf man???

[ali-creates]

Fire and Night Chapter One (A Skyrim Fanfiction)

I’ve logged way too many hours into Skyrim to not write a fic about my character, Lavidia. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Skyrim Masterllist

All I wanted was a simple trip to Skyrim to visit the College of Winterhold, enjoy the aura in the clear starry night sky, explore the stone city of Markarth, maybe even climb the Throat of the World. I’ve even heard about some hidden moss caverns that stay beautiful year-round. The Rift looks like an autumn oasis during all the seasons. There’s even a rumor about a massive underground cavern hidden somewhere, filled with alchemical secrets I’ve only heard vague whispers of. I just wanted to explore a little, do some sight-seeing. But no, instead I somehow got roped into this damn civil war mess. I suppose that’s what I get for being a misinformed tourist. I should pay more attention to the barkeeps and their gossip. Maybe then I would’ve known about the Stormcloaks and the Imperial Army. I could’ve avoided Skyrim until the war ended. Then I wouldn’t be sitting here in the back of a jail cart next to the leader of the Stormcloak rebellion, Ulfric Stormcloak himself. I bet you’re wondering how in the hell did I end up in this situation. Yeah, me too. I was crossing the border into Skyrim from Cyrodiil. A snowstorm started sometime after I had left Frostcrag Spire, and I lost my way going through the mountains. I don’t know how, but I ended up way on the top of what I now know to be Froki’s Peak. As luck would have it, it happened to be slightly more sheltered from the blizzard than the rest of the peaks. So of course, that’s where I set up camp to wait out the storm. There I was, minding my own business, warming up by my fire and fending off frostbite. Enjoying my first glimpses of the starry sky in days, when the Imperial soldiers showed up. Four of them, brandishing their stupid swords and aiming their damn bow at me. Screaming about how I was violating the White-Gold Concordat. Demanding that I come quietly, or they were going to bring me in using force. That’s when I realized that I had been camping next to a Shrine of Talos, worship of which was illegal and punishable by death. Of course, they didn’t bother to listen to my lost, confused explanation of how I ended up there. Cold and startled, I let them strip me of my armor and weapons and tie me up to take to the jail in Helgen. Along the way, we met up with a convoy transporting several war prisoners. And that’s how I ended up riding to my death next to the leader of the rebellion, on my way to the chopping block because I wanted to see some damn lights. “And that’s how I ended up here.” I finished explaining to Ralof, another prisoner riding in the cart. “I’m sorry Skyrim’s beauty will be the cause of your death.” He sighed. “It’s a shame really.” “It is what it is, I suppose. That’s what I get for coming to Skyrim during the war.” I shrugged. By this point, I could see the walls of Helgen approaching. Our fate awaited us on the other side. “Wait, why are we stopping?” The thief, a cowardly fool, sounded absolutely terrified. “Why do you think? End of the line.” Ralof smirked sadly. “Let’s go, shouldn’t keep the gods waiting.” Ulfric stood up and jumped down from the cart, followed by the thief and then me. “No, wait, we’re not rebels!” The thief cried out. “Face your death with some courage, Thief.” “You have to tell them we weren’t with you!” “Hey, keep me out of this.” I held my bound hands up in front of me. “I may be here for an absolutely ridiculous reason but I’m still taking this like a warrior. Quit crying you milk drinker.” “Step towards the block when we call your name, one at a time!” A pretentious female voice called out, belonging to that of an Imperial captain. “Ulfric Stormclaok, Jarl of Windhelm.” A much softer, male voice sounded from in front of the group of prisoners. “It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric.” Ralof bowed his head. Ulfric said nothing, considering he was bound and gagged. He simply walked towards the chopping block. “Ralof of Riverwood.” The voice called again. Ralof bowed his head to me and followed Ulfric. “Lokir of Rorikstead.” “No! I’m not a rebel! You can’t do this!” The thief, Lokir, made a mad dash past the soldiers towards the gate. “Halt! Archers!” The Captain shouted. “You’re not going to kill me!” Within seconds, Lokir was crumpling to the ground, an arrow sticking out of his chest. “Did he really think he was going to make it?” I sighed and closed my eyes. “How was that any more dignified than just getting your head chopped off?” “Wait, you there, Breton. Step forward.” I turned my head to see the man with the soft voice was speaking to me. I smiled and stepped towards him. “Who are you?” “My name is Lavidia. I’m a traveler. I was born on the road, so I hail from nowhere.” I dipped my head to him. “I doubt you will find me on your list.” “She’s right, Captain.” He spoke softly after going down his list. “Her name is not on here. What do we do?” “Forget the list, she goes to the block.” The Captain huffed. Wow, damn bitch. If my hands weren’t bound I’d burn her to a crisp. “I’m sorry, Lavidia. Is there anyone I can send your remains to?” His eyes were soft and sad. “I’ll tell them the truth of your death.” “No, sir. There is no one.” I stepped closer to him. “Can I have the name of the last person to show me kindness before I die?” “Hadvar.” He put a hand on my shoulder and turned me towards the chopping block. “Peace to you.” “Thank you.” I walked forward and stood beside Ralof. The first Stormcloak soldier stepped up to the block and kneeled. The executioner raised his ax and brought it down to his neck, severing his head in one clean swipe. “As fearless in death, as he was in life.” Ralof stood solemnly, saluting his fallen comrade. A loud roar sounded in the distance. “What was that?” I leaned over to Ralof. “I don’t know, but it sounded huge.” “You there, Breton. You’re next.” The Captain ordered. The roar sounded again, this time closer. “There it is again.” Hadvar was looking around. “What is it?” “I said. Next. Prisoner.” The Captain put her hand on her sword and stared daggers at me. I took slow steps towards the chopping block. They hadn’t even bothered to move the Stormcloak’s body and head. I had to kick his body out of the way so I could kneel down and stare into his lifeless eyes and I rested my head on the block. I looked up at the executioner just as he swung his ax up, and saw a creature I had only heard stories about crash onto the tower behind him. A dragon, black as night, deadly creature of legend. Or, not anymore I suppose. It roared, and the executioner stumbled backward, dropping his ax in the process. “What in Oblivion is that?!” “Sentries! What do you see?” The Captain called. Are you blind and dumb? Does that big helmet cut off circulation to your brain? Can you not see the giant scaled beast perched right in front of you?? “It’s a dragon!” I took that as my chance and scrambled to my feet. All of the Imperial soldiers were distracted, staring at the dragon. Now is as good a time as any to make a run for it, considering they’re all not paying any attention to us. “Hey, Lavidia!” I turned to see Ralof crouching beside me. “This way! The gods won’t give us another chance! Hurry!” I followed him into a tower. Inside stood Jarl Ulfric, along with a few injured Stormcloaks. As Ralof closed the door I heard screams from the villagers. “Jarl Ulfric, what is that thing? Could the legends be true?” Ralof was leaned over, gasping for breath. “Legends don’t burn down buildings.” Ulfric’s voice was deep and authoritative. I could see how he could become Jarl of Windhelm and lead an army of rebels to take the throne. Any speech given with his voice would probably have me mesmerized. “We have to get out of here, now!” “Come on, up through the tower!” Ralof grabbed my arm and started pulling me up the stairs. “This would be a little easier if my hands were free.” I pointed out as I stumbled over my feet. “Give me just a second, I’ll help you with that.” Ralof was reaching into his sheath for his dagger as the wall in front of us exploded into the tower. He crouched and pulled me down beside him as the dragon popped in and breathed a stream of fire in front of us. “You know what, I’ve got it!” I twisted my wrists and pulled, and the rope slipped off. I rubbed my wrists, which were bleeding slightly from rope burns. “How did you-?” “My parents were traveling merchants. We got held up on more than one occasion and I had to learn to slip my bindings.” I shrugged.”You’re a soldier and you don’t know how to do it?” “That’s not really on the training regime...” Ralof pondered for a moment. “But maybe it should be. But now is not the time to discuss this! Jump through the hole into the roof of the inn!” Ralof pointed at the slightly smoldering building next to us. “It’s the only way out of here now!” “See you on the other side!” I patted Ralof’s shoulder and jumped down through the roof, bending my knees as I landed to reduce the impact. I rolled forward and sprang up, dodging holes caused by the floor collapsing. I dropped down through one of the larger ones and ran out of the house through a massive gap in the side wall. In front of me was Hadvar, crouched down and shouting for a young boy to run towards him. As the boy was running past him towards an older man, Hadvar noticed me coming up behind him. “Still alive Lavidia? Stay close to  me if you want to stay that way.” I nodded at him and crouched beside him. “Gunnar, get Haming to safety. I’m going to join General Tullius in the defense.” “Gods guide you.” Gunnar grabbed the boy and led him away from the dragon. I followed Hadvar across the path to the base of the keep wall. He stopped and thrust his arm out in front of me just as the dragon came crashing down onto the wall. Its wing came down right in front of me, and I had to fight the urge to reach my hand out and touch it. Imagine actually touching one! We stood absolutely still, hesitating to even breathe until it took off again. Hadvar dropped his arm and we ran between a few houses towards a group of soldiers. “Hadvar! Into the keep, we’re leaving!” General Tullius, leader of the Imperial Army, was at the head of the soldiers, shooting arrows at the dragon while they made their retreat. “Come on, Lavidia!” I followed Hadvar towards the doors of the keep, watching as the dragon came down and snatched up one of the soldiers. He flung him up into the air and he came crashing back to the ground, landing in a crumpled, bloodied heap. "Hin sil fen nahkip bahloki." The dragon roared in the background as we stumbled in front of the keep. “Ralof! Damned traitor. Out of our way!” Hadvar had his sword drawn and ready to strike. Ralof was standing in front of the keep door, having had the same thought as us to escape. “We're escaping, and you’re not stopping us!” “Fine! I hope the dragon takes you all to Sovngarde!” Ralof turned and extended his hand to me. “Come on! Into the keep!” “You’re not thinking of going with this traitor, are you?” Hadvar’s jaw dropped slightly. “I’m sorry Hadvar, but your people tried to have me executed without a trial. How do I know if I’m really safe with you? How do I know you won’t turn around and try to execute me the moment we’re safe?” I went to stand beside Ralof. “I’m sorry.” “Just go. Get out of here.” Hadvar gritted his teeth and turned away from us. I hesitated, and then followed Ralof into the keep.

[planetsam]

omg i just found your blog and i love it!! please please write a mike x eleven story kali goes to hawkins and reunites with el and that’s how mike, hopper, and the rest of the boys find out el has a sister

Kali doesn’t believe in miracles anymore.

Not if she’s one of them.

She believes in 011 though, so she goes after her. Back to Hawkins. She sends the others off to do it too, not sure how this will go. If she was odd before she’s a freak on another level now, with her painted appearance and her shadowed eyes. She shouldn’t be surprised to find 011 has done the same things she has. Built a family, carved a life, drawn what she needs into her sphere. It looks different, it still has the shine Papa liked so much.

“What are you doing here?” 011 asks quietly when she sees her.

“I came to see what all the fuss is about,” she says with a flip of her hair, “didn’t realize I was interrupting third period and homecoming,” she sneers and 011 at least has the grace to turn pink in the ears before her face hardens.

“I’m sorry I’m not robbing a bank,” she shoots back and Kali glares.

“Well not as the daughter of the police chief. Though you’d have an easier time of it. No surprise there.”

It’s a cruel thing to say but she’s cruelest at her most vulnerable. 011 grabs her wrist and yanks her over to the phone booth. She pulls out a quarter, jams in a number and talks quickly. Quietly. Then she turns to Kali.

“Stay here,” she orders.

“Going to be late for fourth period?” Kali demands, making her voice high and girlish.

She rolls her eyes as 011 storms away, rolls them again as she runs when the bell starts to ring. It was a mistake, she thinks. Coming here was a mistake. Next time she’s going to someone else. She bets 01 has a way cooler life than this town. Running away from here makes more sense than whatever the hell is happening here. She rolls these thoughts in her head, enjoying them as she waits as instructed. Trying not to wonder at why she’s waiting at all. The car that pulls up comes dangerously close and she almost has to slam on the hood to get it to stop. The driver has the grace to look surprised but then his eyes narrow, like this is just a regular day for him.

“Are you Kali?” he questions, opening the door.

“Depends on who you are,” she says giving her best devil may care smile. He lets out a long suffering sigh like this is just what happens now. “you are?” she prods.

“I’m Steve,” he says, “Jane called me.”

She appraises him, all slim lines and chiseled jaw. He looks like one of those boys that Dottie likes seeing on her magazines. Or Axel sometimes stares at a little longer than he should. His clothes are good quality but have seen better days. Unless he’s just been gardening, in which case, he’s not like the boys on those magazines at all. She wonders if 011 has been stupid enough to tell him the specifics, or if she’s just told him to stand still like Kali’s some wounded, skittish animal.

“Are you my babysitter?” she asks and he smirks.

“Yeah, so get in the car,” he says without missing a beat.

She looks back at the high school and shrugs.

Can’t possibly be worse than where she’s been.

He actually is a god damn babysitter.

It floors her when the day lets out and there’s a dozen rugrats 011’s age scurrying around. For all the things they can do, she forgets how young 011 actually is. And yet no age can make this better as they talk about things they shouldn’t know about like they’re discussing the weather. Steve has snacks ready to go and somehow gets the circus that’s happening under control while she stares at it with a mix of frustration and exasperation. 011 seems to be steadfastly ignoring it, looking down at her textbooks like a coward.

“Does this happen every day?” she demands rounding on Steve.

“Uh, most days,” he says.

“And what are you doing here?” she questions.

“Identity crisis,” he says without skipping a beat.

She lets out a noise of frustration.

“Screaming room’s there,” the one called Dustin says pointing his pencil, “we killed a Demidog in there so it’s got bad vibes. Get it all out.”

She’s going to kill them all.

Steve makes up the sofa because, again, he’s a babysitter. And a maid. And a chef apparently, which seems like a lot for someone going through a crisis. He studies a lot too and she finds that even stranger. She remarks that one day, flopping on the couch and watching some dumb gameshow she’s never seen.

“You’re very busy for someone in the middle of a crisis,” she says.

“I multitask,” he replies.

She swings herself off the couch, dressed only in a long t-shirt and saunters over to him. He glances up once and then looks back down, focusing intently on a book until she grabs it out of his hand, spinning it back towards her. She glances at it and then looks at him, raising an eyebrow as he suddenly finds the counter interesting.

“This is a chemistry text book,” she says.

“Yeah.”

“You graduated didn’t you?” she asks and he nods, “so why are you—“

“I’m taking a year off,” he gets out, clearly embarrassed and she rolls her eyes, shoving the book back at him.

“I didn’t even go to high school,” she says airily and retreats back to the couch.

011 has told her boys everything. Kali’s been smart enough to keep her band at an arms length, not telling them everything. 011 hasn’t extended that courtesy. They aren’t even surprised to see her, though she supposes that one can go to straight old logic as the labs were kind enough to number them chronologically. Her 008 has caused her a lot of frustration over the years but now it feels obvious. Like a marker everyone is aware of in ways she doesn’t want them to be. Irrationally she wants to hunt Terry Ives down and demand to know if the crazy bitch has more plans to ruin everything. Or maybe her sister does and can meddle some more.

“I cried when they tattooed me,” she tells Steve one day when it’s raining out, “they said it wouldn’t hurt but it did,” she fingers the numbers, “at the time.”

“You get any since?” he asks and she turns over her shoulder to flash him a wicked smile that makes him shift his weight.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” she says. His eyes linger just a fraction too long on her collar bone and she rolls over, gets to her knees, “do you have any tattoos?” she challenges and he laughs.

“Not the type,” he says.

“What type is that?” she asks, “the dangerous type? The rebellious type?” she closes the distance between them, “the delinquent type?”

“I was gonna say the kidnapped and imprisoned type,” he says and she purses her lips.

“No, I suppose you’re not the type at all.”

She really can’t place him which becomes a source of frustration to her. They’re known for drawing in people who are useful to them—which he isn’t—or who please them—which he doesn’t—or who are trustworthy. He offers nothing, pleases no-one and he might be trustworthy but she doesn’t trust people. 011 trusts too many it seems. She corners the bowl haircut one with the sad eyes. Not to be confused with the bowl haircut one with the goo goo eyes and questions him. He coughs up the answer with minimal prodding and she saunters over to Steve.

“So,” she says, “you got your heart broken. Trying to win back fair maiden’s hand?”

“No,” he scoffs. She leans forward and he pulls back.

“Your ears are red,” she says, curling a piece of hair out of the way as if to show him. He jerks at the touch and she grins, “you know being a stay at home dad is kind of a libido killer. You should be out there showing how desirable you are.”

“Thanks, but, I’m not taking romance advice from—from—“

“Someone who can make someone do anything they want?” she asks, “I could win Nancy faster than you,” she says, wicked ideas occurring to her, “I could win her back for you,” she says, “make her want to see you instantly.“

“That’s not love,” he says and she laughs.

“They can’t tell the difference.”

“Yeah, but you can.”

It’s an obvious statement. Her laugh is edged in brittle all of a sudden, sharp edges clawing out. Brittle doesn’t have a place here. Not in this storybook kitchen, not in the lives of people who haven’t been ruined. She knows she’s the oddity here, but just how odd seems to hit her with the unexpected look in his eyes. She knows that look, the scientists used to give it to her all the time.

“It’s all the same to me,” she dismisses, pushing away from the table, “when you want me to get your girlfriend back, you let me know.”

She lays awake that night seething. It’s been a long time since she turned a conversation over in her head like this. She’s not sure why. Steve Harrington is a loser, in the kindest sense of the word. A bright star who fell fast and he’s now reduced to this shit town with his shit job and babysitting these shit kids. She hates this town. She never should have come back here. She starts to formulate a plan to leave.

She must talk in her sleep because there’s a lot of waffles for breakfast.

She stares at them and then at the one responsible.

“Don’t win my ex-girlfriend back,” he says, “not loving someone back isn’t a crime. And she has someone she loves so, just, leave it.”

She stares at him.

“Are you really that good of a person?” she questions.

He shrugs.

“Nah, i’m not.”

“Thats what a good person would say.”

She takes the peace offering, realizing what it is. When she’s done she sets her silverware down and stands up, coming in front of him. He follows her with his eyes as she gathers the hem of her shirt in her hands and pulls it over her head, turning her back to him. He stares at the tattoo and she gathers her hair up for the full effect. He swallows tightly and she drops her shirt back on.

“They marked me with their name, so i marked my own.”

She enjoys the look in his eyes maybe a little too much as he watches her sit back down and dig into another waffle. Steve stares at his plate silently and she feels a shiver of delight at a power that she rarely gets the chance to use. When color comes back into his cheeks, he clear his throat before getting up and walking away, shifting his too tight jeans as he goes.

Running away taught her a long time ago that men come in all shades of monster. There’s all kinds of violations your body can go through, all kinds of walls you need to keep them out. Steve could easily be one of them, he has the constantly frustrated look of someone who spent a long time thinking the world was one way, only to find out it isn’t. There is nothing malicious about him though, but Kali has been wrong about that assumption before. Trusted too easily, paid a price in a long line on her right breast that will never go away.

She resolves to try it, just a little push to see how he reacts. Little is often easier with proximity and darkness so that night she goes to his room. She closes her eyes and reaches for his mind. It’s pliable and soft, he’s no great genius nor does he have a wealth of defenses up against her. The goodness is there, somewhere deep in all of this but deeper still is the determination. The grit. It catches her off guard, slips her control and she’s wrenched back to where she is, standing above him. His eyes open and he jerks awake, looking at her with wide eyes. She chokes on something that she’s not calling emotion, waiting for the anger. But he just reaches over to the side of the bed and pulls out a tissue.

“Your nose is bleeding,” he says. When she makes no move to take it he presses himself to his feet. He towers over her but maybe for the first time in her adult life, this is simply a fact. “Here, lemme.” He touches the tissue under her nose and takes her hand, guiding it there. She goes to tilt her head back and he shakes his, “lean forward,” he says. She looks at him doubtfully, “just trust me?” She doesn’t move, “what do you have to lose?”

At the moment? Nothing.

She doesn’t want that to change.

She tips her head forward anyway. The bleeding stops quickly. He hands her another tissue and she takes it, careful not to touch any of him. He sits back on the bed as she tosses them into the bin. He looks up at her and she feels unsettled by how calm he is.

“You okay?” He asks and she starts at the question, “you wanna sleep here?”

She waits until his breathing is deep and even before she risks looking over at him. He’s curled on his side, his back is to her and she wonders what else Dottie said is a lie. Or if Steve is just different. She doesn’t like either option. She closes her eyes and lets out a long breath, trying to steady her pounding heart.

She has to get out of here.

“And go where?” 011 demands.

“Nowhere you need to worry that pretty little head about,” she says.

“Why did you come?”

The question stings and makes her feel embarrassed all at once. None of which she’s willing to show. She looks over her shoulder. Steve is pretending to read, but his eyes are fixed on one word. It stings across her mind like a brand and she hates him for it. Especially the intent behind it.

“I was looking for my sister,” she says, “if you ever find her, tell her I was here?”

She walks out as Jane’s face collapses. As the book slams shut. As Steve catches the door she throws open and follows her out. Venom floods her mouth as she turns, ready to burn the last thing she has here. The stupid, fragile thing that will ignite with nothing from either of them. That’s how the world works.

“Hey!” He says, “you can’t talk to her like that! She’s just a kid!”

“I was a kid once too, that didn’t stop anyone from talking to me like that!”

“That’s your excuse?” He demands and she feels her hackles raise, “someone did it to me so I’m going to do it to someone else?”

“I’m sure that’s not easy for you to understand with people giving you everything and you just passing it along. I’m surprised your parents aren’t worried with you playing house like this, surprised they’re so willing to share their precious boy.”

She knows she crossed some kind of line, knows it a moment too late at the look on his face. Amidst her crashing stomach she consoles herself with the fact that she made him angry, which was always her plan. The anger is there, but it’s mixed with something far worse and she rails against the pity. She doesn’t want anyone’s pity. She wants his fear, she wants his respect, she wants–she shoves away the alarming number of things she wants and glares up at him.

“You don’t know the first thing about me,” he says and she laughs cruelly.

“I don’t need to,” she says, “you’re just like everyone else.”

“Spoken exactly like someone who shaved half their head,” he snaps, “you think standing in the corner makes you unique? Or better? Everyone has their own story. Their own past they’re trying to deal with.”

“I’m sure you had such a hard life,” she sneers, “delaying growing up playing house with all these kids. Going for Dad of the year like yours was?”

“And you’re doing the exact same thing the lab did.”

She slaps him.

Not with her mind, with her hand. Slaps him and feels the sting of it in her had.

“Take that back,” she hisses. He says nothing, “take it back!” She yells and reaches for his mind.

He screams through gritted teeth as she digs in. Everyone’s yelling and she hears them coming as he drops to his knees. The bastard still throws a hand out to stop them. She ignores it and digs through his thoughts, his emotions. Past the goodness to the determination, to the core. She sees parents who aren’t there, parents who don’t care. A mother who laments her son losing a great girl without knowing he was lied to, a father who shakes his head and never sees. She sees bruises under his skin, pain that isn’t the kind you can stop but leaves a much deeper scar. She sees a boy sitting forgotten on the steps of a school, his pain indistinguishable from a girl who goes to sleep with no one to tuck her in.

“Let him go!”

The boy who tackles her ignores him and though she catches him, she’s not quite fast enough to catch 011 who severs their connection. Steve’s bleeding too, his eyes going in and out of focus but he still staggers up, catches Dustin in his arms.

“It’s okay, man, I’m okay,” he says, “let it go.”

“Leave!” 011 roars at her, the moment they’re in the house, “I want you gone. Steve did nothing but be nice to you and you hurt him. We might be sisters but you–you are not welcome here anymore,” she looks at her, “apologize first, fix it, then you leave.”

Kali stares at her quietly, unable to find her anger.

He really is a good person, she thinks dully, too shell shocked to push the thought away. She trails down the corridor to the bathroom. Steve’s hunched over the toilet, Dustin, Lucas and Max all arguing above him over a bottle of aspirin. Steve’s trying to wave them off. She feels the memory of no-one doing this for him. They all look at her and she feels rightfully embarrassed, but it’s been a long time since she has and she refuses to give into it around them. Steve’s head moves up and she rolls her eyes, realizing she’ll have to get over it.

“Can I fix him? Please?”

“Hey screw you, you’re not going in his head again,” Dustin snaps.

“Fine, he can stay like that,” she says as he hurls again.

“Let her in,” Steve groans and she moves in, sticking her tongue out when he isn’t looking. She kneels down by the toilet, ignoring the smell, “can you–” he begins miserably before being sick again.

She’s not good at this, it’s on her tongue to say so, but he looks like he wants to die and the three kids behind him look like they want to go with him. She has to try. This is her fault. Taking a deep breath, she reaches forward and flushes the toilet. Her hand comes out and pushes through his hair, finding the spots on his skull. She closes her eyes and nudges again. Steve chokes and she bands her other hand around his chest, stabilizing his jaw. She feels and pulls, soothing the sharp edges of their connection she forced. She tries to cling to his determination, his goodness, all the things that seem so miraculous to her and are so natural to him. After a long moment, she releases him and they collapse onto the tiled, staring at each other.

When she goes to push herself up, his hand covers hers and he shakes his head.

She looks back at 011 who raises her chin and then turns, walking away. She pulls her hand back, knowing that he may have seen things that she didn’t want him to. She’s embarrassed, suddenly. Even though she doesn’t think she should be. She is. She licks her lips and tastes blood. He pushes himself up and grabs toilet paper. Instead of giving it to her he looks at her and she nods, letting him touch the paper to her upper lip. He tosses it into the bin and lays down. After a moment she scoots over, pulls his head into her lap.

“I don’t want to be like them,” she says, “I don’t want to be like this,” she shakes her head, “I don’t want to be stuck.”

“Me neither,” he says finally.

Kali closes her eyes and lets herself feel ashamed.

Steve grasps the hand she has settled on her shoulder.

For the first time in a long time, she feels fear.

She wakes up with a stiff back and a Steve snoring in her lap. She’s as stuck as he is in a completely different way. She doesn’t know why she cares or even if she should. She probably shouldn’t. No, she definitely shouldn’t. The thrill it sends to her is dangerous on every level. Dangerous in a stupid way. She really does have to get out of this shit town. She folds a towel and replaces Steve’s head on it. She throws another one over him in case he gets cold and goes off to find his protector.

“We need to talk.”

A few hours later Steve comes out as they’re finished packing. He rubs at his eyes which are less bloodshot. His head still might be sore but he’s just going to have to deal. Dustin elbows her and she steps forward, handing him the two aspirin and the water. He takes them both silently, looking at her with confusion.

“So, I am sorry again for psychically attacking you,” she says, “they don’t make an apology card for that.”

“This works,” he says hoarsely and takes the pills.

“And,” she continues, “I’m leaving,” he pauses and sets down the glass. Her mouth goes dry at the stab of disappointment and hurt in his eyes. Emboldened she puts her chin in her hand, “but I can’t get there in time by myself, so, you’re going to have to come with me.”

He drops the glass.

“What?” He croaks, looking at the fragments on the floor, “I can’t just–”

“Drive off with a mysterious stranger?” She asks, “that’s odd because they say you can.”

Dustin grins and holds up his duffle bag. Steve stares at him and he nods encouragingly. He looks at her and she meets his gaze. They are both stuck, that’s been admitted even if it was under duress. She’s stuck in a way that she’s not sure she can ever undo. Even wants to undo. He’s stuck in a different way. One that seems so easy to fix for her. Maybe some part of him hopes that the way she’s stuck might be easy for him to fix too. She can see him thinking everything over and realizes she doesn’t want the embarrassment if he says no. She’d rather lick her wounds alone. She picks up her bag and slings it over her shoulder, stepping out on the road and shading her eyes. She flits with the idea of stealing his car and dismisses it. Though it would be a good lesson. By the time she turns around, though, it’s too late.

He’s there.

Something in her chest gives. He looks nervous as hell and she can’t blame him after the past day, but that stubborn look is in his eyes. This is why he’s not like his parents, because he refuses to be. It’s not the kind of thing that can be taught, not in time. But she can marvel at it anyway. He opens the trunk and puts his bag in, looking at her for a second before nodding. She drops her bag besides his and smiles daringly up at him, squinting in the bright light. Whatever catty thing she’s about to say is lost as he settles a pair of sunglasses on her nose.

“Better?” He rasps.

She stands on her toes and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth. Electricity shoots through her in a way it hasn’t before and her seems to jump with it too. For a moment she considers their connection might still be there, but she’s out of his head. The only thing that’s done this is the part of her that is very much like everyone else. She gets her smile up just in time, pressing her finger to his jaw.

“We’ll see.”