#theyve both broken their arms and legs before i think from this.

[galaxygermdraws]

Idea that Mario Tennis is the first time Daisy n Luigi saw each other and they both were down bad for each other. Also I think Daisy would just casually call someone a wet rag in the most /affectionate way possible.

(reblogs with tags/comments are appreciated. Thankyu)

[signed-loni]

hi!! do you think you could to sal, larry, ash, and todds reaction to you having a broken bone? (rib, leg, arm, etc) thank you ! :)

Mwa ha ha ha ha….

I HAVENT POSTED A STORY AT ALL FOR LIKE 2 MONTHS SO HERE YOU GO

anyhoo any shoe, here you gooooo

warnings: cussing, broken bones (idk man could b a trigger)

🎭Sal🎮

So, you were just like…playing stupid games, and how did that end? You getting stupid prizes.

you were known against not only your family, but to your entire school for being a klutz.

you didn’t know what was wrong with you, you kinda just attracted accidents

so, it was no surprise that when you chose to climb a tree just for gits and shiggles, you fell down and broke your leg.

at first, all you could feel was shock. But then, it settled in.

you were screaming, crying, it was low key kinda sad..💀

JK you took that shi like a boss

not really

but sal and Larry heard you from larrysroom due to you being right in the back, climbing a tree close to the treehouse.

they rushed out, immediately going to your aid, Sal being the first to come up to you and tell Larry to call an ambulance.

he cradled you in his arms as you cried, you gripping onto his jacket, screaming his name

“fuck sal!! Please sally, please it hurts, it hurts it hurts! Fuck!”

all sal could do was run a hand through your hair and try and comfort you

“its gonna be okay my love, its gonna be okay”

waited in the waiting room the entire time you guys were at the ER

refused to leave without you

you walked out of the ER about an hour later with a cast on your leg and crutches

sally said you looked like slenderman with the crutches

made you feel a bit better.

🎸Larry🍃

what had happend was, you and larry were cruising around nockfell, doing stupid shit like ding dong ditch, getting a bunch of snacks and going behind the 7/11 you guys got them from to smoke, cute, rebellious highschool couple shit

until you guys went to the lake.

you and larry decided to try and walk on the ice at the lake, and when you got there, you didnt know how thick it was, so parry bet you 50 dollars to jump off the dock and on the ice

mind you, the dock is pretty high up from the water

so, you booked it to the dock, running up and and falling on the ice with FULL FORCE

you slipped back and landed on your arm, twisting it back and breaking it

you looked up from where you were to larry, and as he was laughing his ass off and walking toawrds you to help you, you look up at him and say “larry, i think I just broke my fucking arm”

larry looks dumbfounded

he stays like that until you rip a scream from your throat, not being able to contain the immense pain you felt in your arm

“Fuck!!”

larry shouts as he fumbles for his phone to call and ambulance and sal as quickly as he could

when the ambulance gets there, sal and larry are both panicking, they dont know wtf to do

you crying, shouting, and screaming, and theyve never seen you like this

when you get to the ER, larrys panicking, but like over things that arent even related to a broken arm

“dude what if her leg hurts!!” “larry, her arm is BROKEN.”

its was kinda funny

when you walk out, larry immediately runs up to you and hugs you as toght as he can. He was worried as FUCKKKKK

Sal runs up to you to, and also hugs you, hut not as tight

“next time larry, lets check how slippery the ice is before we test how hard it is”

💜Ash🥀

Decided to take you on a sledding date

yeah, NOT FUCKING FUN FOR U

Ash, bless her heart, had no idea what was going to happen. Poor girl just thought “hey its winter, how bout I take them on a snow related date!”

turns out the slop was too high, and TOO DANGEROUS

Because u guys didnt go to some a place that provided an area for sledding, you just found a tall slope and slid down it

turns out, you suck at sledding!

because not even a couple minutes after you went down, you lost control and fell out of your sled, rolling and tumbling down the hill, a lot of your weight going to your side and on top of your arm, and all you could hear was *CRACK* and also the very loud scream that erupted from your throat

Ash freaks the FUCK OUT when she hears you scream from behind her, you getting on your knees and just fuckin SOBBING

Couldnt stop, so she sled as fast as she could down the hill and ran like the fucking flash to tour side to ask what happend

“I f-fell-l off m-my sle-ed and fell a-nd i th-i-ink i b-broke my ar-r-rm” you said between sniffs and crys and quick breaths

Ash immediately calls 911 and is almost YELLING at the paramedics to get there already because shes fuckin WORRIED

paces around the waiting room cus shes nervous and feels like shit for being the reason of your pain (shes not but she cant help but feel like she is since shes the one who made u sled with her)

A while after the incident, she’s constantly trying to pay you back for being the “reason of your pain” when she was the exact opposite since she literally called the hospital and stuck with you the entire time?? Her logic is funny

🧡Todd🔍

(okay im gonna be 100 percent honest, Todd is just not my favorite to write for, for multiple reasons, so im gonna put him in a situation where he WASNT with u, and was just called up by sal or larry frantic on the phone like “uhhh, y/n broke a rib” or smth😭 )

Todd was minding his business, working mindlessly away on an essay and trying his hardest to ignore the STANK of weed in his apartment.

was almost done with his essay, when he gets a call from Larry saying “Dude! Y/n totally broke theyre fuckin leg!! Its in like a gnarly ass bent shape!! Like a fuckin triangle or some shit!” And then gets cut off by sal,-��Todd, you shouod probably come right now. Y/n had a totally freak accident and broke their leg. They probably want to see you”

Todds on the other end like “wtf just happend”

Regardless, speeds over to the hospital as auick as he can to see what happend and what Sal and Larry did to hurt his beloved partner

doesnt help sal or larry with homework for the next 3 months, or until you heal

A/N: OMFG IM SOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO POST!! I feel bad cus i have so many things in my drafts🥲🥲 anyhoo hoped you enjoyed this!! Remember your not aline in your journey, and theres always someone u can talj to :)) Xoxo, loni

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Would currently kill for some 'Fuck at The End of The World' NSFW with Aizawa. Maybe like, theyve liked each other for a long time but never acted on it and with everything that's happened decide its now or never???

Searching classrooms for useful supplies is not something you expected to ever do in your life. You thought you had it all planned out with your career at a local business, your dream home was in your grasps, and your life was going perfect before it came crashing down in a glorious fashion.

You sit down in an empty desk and try one more time to contact your family. The ringer goes through before immediately sending you to voicemail. Groaning with frustration, you lean your head back and take a deep calming breath.

“Trying again?”

You sit back up, catching sight of the Erasure Hero, or simply Shouta as you called him ever since you children.

“No, I was…just taking a break. Sorry.”

Aizawa stops at the desk you made your resting point and leans against the frame of the wooden panel.

“No one can fault you for being worried,” he says calmly. “Though, I’m sure they’re fine. Your family has always been resourceful, and they know how to fight and hunt.”

You nod in agreement.

“You’re probably right, they’ve always been hot-tempered so this is probably heaven for them. I’m not that great under pressure or on my own in general, so they’re probably going crazy over me if anything,” you contrast all your own family becoming some form of police or hero even nurses compared to your more laidback lifestyle. “They didn’t even like the idea of me moving to the city by myself, well, until they heard you lived around here, too.”

“Why would that change their mind?”

You pause, a smile finally working its way on your face. Though, it was weak and reminiscent of good days gone. “Because they were pretty confident you’d watch out for me since we spent so much time together before you moved, so I guess I need to say thanks for being there for me all this time.”

Aizawa doesn’t understand why you have to say it so distantly, with your head down and dace away from his sight. It’s almost like a last speech, something he’s heard too many times before in his career. “We’ll still be safe here for now,” he reassures to try to bring back some confidence back in you.

“I don’t think anything will happen soon either, but I still didn’t want to risk never being able to tell you just in case later on something did happen.” The only thing he didn’t realize right away was this was also your confession. You didn’t think you’d make it this far if he and some other heroes didn’t come all the way to your side of town to save you and other civilians. “Honestly, I also took a job in the city because I missed being able to talk to you face to face like this. Talking to you always helped me think things through.”

Aizawa crosses his arms, a small song playing inside due to the increasing speed of his heart. He can never be sure if you mean the things you say in a friendly or romantic manner. He was never good at predicting that about you. “I admit that everything started to get much better when you came here.”

“Really? You could just say you missed me, too!” you tease, trying to push away your wounded feelings for another confession when you decide that maybe you should be a little more direct. You hesitantly look up. “Uh, Shouta…” You swallow to get your bearings. “Do you remember when we were ten and said that if we weren’t with someone by the time we both were 30 we’d marry each other?”

“I don’t recall agreeing of my own will, but yeah. Why do you ask?” he remarks bluntly and looks at you. Then, it becomes clear with your frustratedly clenching fingers and the upset and embarrassed expression you made that you were still serious.

“(Name), I—“

You shake your head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it, Shouta. ”

The silence that occurs swelters you both in an unbearable heat before the quiet is broken by the first brave enough to say what you both were thinking.

“I still would if you wanted,” Aizawa announces, and there’s a blossoming warmth in your body, one that brings a small relief inside of you at finally knowing where he stands in your relationship. “There’s not an official possibility of that at this point.”

You nod and slowly lace your fingers with his own and slowly came to a stand. You firmly yet gently press your lips to his cheek. “That’s fine with me.”

Shouta pulls you in this time, gentle hands cupping and caressing your cheeks, as he captures your lips with a passionate kiss. Your tongues meet in the middle, swirling in a delicate dance that leaves you moaning in his mouth. His pecks your lips again and again and makes a slow trail down to your neck.

His breath tickles along your neck, warm and inviting. “I love you for a long time now. That’s why I worried about you all the time,” he whispers and dusts you with the fluttering kisses he leaves on your skin.

“I love you, too, I can’t tell you how much you mean to me,” you confess and tilt your head to give more room.

Aizawa latches and generously sucks your sweet spot until the tingle of his teeth sinking into your skin makes you groan. He grasps your hips and lifts, sitting you on top of the desk. You grip his hair, pulling it back as you kiss him more deeply. You nip his bottom lip and pave the way for him to add his own aggression and bite you back with unrestrained affection.

You let go for air and to pull up your shirt and toss it aside. Very little time is wasted before he cups and massages your chest. A litter of warm kisses and brushes over the supple, creamy skin of your breasts.

“Your mouth feels so good.”

Aizawa moans against your flesh, nipping you a little harder and showering you with more open mouth kisses to give you that feeling. “Is this what you like, (Name)-chan?”

“Yeah,” you whimper and slowly slide your leg between his own.

Fast and heavy, you massage the heated arousal peaked in his uniform with the length of your thigh. The low groan that leaves him sparks another wave of excitement collecting in your panties as slick wetness.

Needing more, he nudges your leg out the way and cups your ass to pull you tight against his lap, his erection pressing readily against your womanhood. He grinds into you, and your whimpers fill the empty room with the rock of his hips and the nibbling over the top of your breasts before he leads his hands up. He gently draws his fingers along your spine then moves to unclip your bra. Your bra slides down your arms and his mouth quickly covers your nipple, and you moan and buck your hips.

“Do you want it that bad?”

Aizawa cups your sex and pushes his hand into your pants to trace the slip of your panties, adding a little pressure to find your clit underneath the plush fabric. He can feel you coating through it, a wet patch forming under his finger as he slides along your part.

“Shouta, I want you.”

Magic words said, he moves to undo your pants and pulls them off your leg to reveal your heat dripping with clear fluid seeping from your opening. He pulls down his own pants around his hips, member springing out to greet you with thick throbbing leading up to a rounded pink head leaking with precum.

Shouta lines it against you and massages you in smooth motions to collect your sweet cum on his cock before guiding it inside your tight heat. You gasp, moaning his name and digging your fingers into his shoulders as he bucked into you.

You wrap your arms and legs around him and mewl as he pulls out and thrusts back into you with a growl. He squeezes the backside of the desk to keep it in place as he kept pumping at an increased pace with your escalating approval with each grind of his hips and suck of his mouth around your tongue.

You couldn’t keep your voice down as you stretch around him again with his movements. His pants would rub your inner thighs, creating light friction that makes you desperately clench around him. Aizawa pushes his lips back to your neck and sucks on your pulse, and heat shoots all through your body. More of your slick leaves his cock glistening, and he pulses even hotter and harder inside you.

Then, it’s only a few more seconds later before you cum around him with a mewl, and your body tenses and relaxes with an intense release. Aizawa cups the back of your head and holds you against his shoulder as he slows up and rides out the waves of your orgasm hugging him and bringing him more quickly to meeting you in a haze of pleasure as he cums inside of you and paints your inner walls a milky white with his semen. He keeps thrusting into you, slowly edging off his high before pulling out with a thin stream of cum following. He cups your chin, bringing you back into another lingering kiss.

“Stay with me,” he requests softly, making another promise. ”I’ll make sure you don’t get hurt.”

You smile and lean forward against his chest. “I know you won’t.”

[reesewestonarchive]

chapter six / rem belongs to @forlornraven / masterpost / mature content

The van idles in the parking lot when Nakoa wakes. Rem’s nowhere to be found, until Nakoa peers out the window of the motel room and sees him setting their bags in the back, a cigarette stuck out of his lips.

Nakoa pulls from the window, stretches his arms above his head.

Waits for Rem to come back, and when he does, he takes one look at Nakoa and says, “You ready?”

“For /what/?” Nakoa’s ready to settle down. Get a job in some bullshit city that won’t ask his age. Rem can…

Well, maybe if he’s happy, he…

“Next leg of the trip.” He pulls the cigarette from his mouth, stubs it out on the bottom of his shoe. “You wanna get dressed?”

Right now, he wants another fucking nap.

“I’ll blow you,” Rem says, with a raise of an eyebrow, and Nakoa snorts. There’s no fucking way Rem wants to get out of here that quickly. “If we go.”

“Yeah fucking right,” Nakoa says.

But Rem steps forward and pulls Nakoa against him by the hem of his t-shirt. Tucking his fingers into the waistband of Nakoa’s pants, he says, “No. Hey.” He tugs at Nakoa’s collar, a smile tugging at his lips. Nakoa thinks about kissing him. He doesn’t. “I’m serious.”

Nakoa looks from Rem’s lips to the van outside. “Where are we going?”

“Oregon, maybe. Why not Canada? Or Mexico. Check out some of their beaches.” Rem grins. Draws Nakoa in for a kiss, and he tastes like coffee and creamer, sweet and smooth.

Like a different guy, but… fuck, Nakoa’s used to this. Rem gets freaked out by something, says a bunch of jackass shit, and Nakoa handles it poorly. It’s not like this thing between them’s easy. Nakoa doesn’t understand it himself, most of the time. Nakoa’s never wanted as much as he wants with Rem, and… that’s terrifying. To imagine the future and want someone by his side.

“What happened?” Nakoa asks, when his eyes are still closed and Rem pulls away, just slightly. “With the blood.”

Rem goes tight under Nakoa’s fingers. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Tough shit. You’re going to.” Nakoa pinches him, under the arm, and Rem yelps, scowls at him.

“Might have some prick on my tail. Don’t worry about it.”

Don’t worry about it. “You nearly beat the shit out of my dad when he hit me last year,” Nakoa says, trying to contain his frustration and failing, “but the second I want to make sure you’re okay—”

Rem pulls away. “It’s not the same. Come on, in the car. You can drive.” He flashes a smile, mischievous, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Rem.” Nakoa flattens his voice, steps backwards so Rem’s presence isn’t quite so intoxicating, so he can think through the fog in his head. “I’m serious.”

Rem sighs, runs a hand through his hair. “It’s fine. Can you calm down? I’m not some fucking damsel in distress. I can take care of myself—”

More than he had the other night, Nakoa wants to leave. Let Rem fend for himself, see where that gets him. But then, he imagines Rem lying on the side of the road, or in some dark alley next to a liquor store, and— “Why are you so afraid of this?” he asks, thinks about gesturing between the two of them, really nailing down what he’s talking about.

A dark look passes Rem’s face, before he says, “Because I don’t want you involved.” Nakoa expects him to leave—it looks like it. “You don’t need to get caught up in my bullshit anymore than I should be caught up in yours.” Nakoa wants to tell him that he likes to be, that he likes knowing Rem’s fine, that if he could help, he would. And now that it’s them against the world, two of them on the road alone, each other is all they have. But Rem doesn’t let him, says instead, “We have fun together, right?”

And any hope burns to ash in Nakoa’s chest. He tastes it on his tongue when he says, “Yeah. Fun.”

Bowie plays on the stereo in the car, and Nakoa hears it from miles away. He thinks of what Rem said in the motel room; fun. That’s what it started as; is that all it will ever become for Rem?

Desire breeds warm and heavy in Nakoa’s stomach, sated temporarily by sex, but more often Nakoa just… wants. A longing feeling when he sees Rem singing along to the radio, when Rem moans—a different one when Nakoa touches him than the one he makes when eating pancakes, but neither less arousing than the other.

The goofy grin when he teases Nakoa.

He wants. Maybe the two of them will never own property, will spend their lives on the run from Nakoa’s shithead of a father, from the people Rem hustles for money to survive, but that’s a better end than wasting away in Withervale.

Nakoa should tell him. He should find a way to say the words without scaring Rem off, to say without expectation what he wants.

But then, he wants Rem. Is it not better to have what pieces of himself Rem will offer?

-

“What are you doing?”

Rem’s voice is scratchy with sleep. His eyes bloodshot from a twelve hour drive, and Nakoa’s knuckles hurt from where he has been pressing against play, pause, record for two hours, listening to the radio.

Fuck. Nakoa rips off his headphones, says, “Nothing. Why?”

Rem raises an eyebrow, says, “Come on. Come to bed.”

Bed tonight is the mattress in the back of the van. Nakoa’s money sits safely in the locked glovebox, but it’s dwindling. They’re close to Oregon, now, Disney just a pipe dream, but Rem keeps pulling off to look at the wildlife. To stop in gift shops. To tug Nakoa around randomly in tourist traps.

Nakoa might revel the attention, if he thought it would lead anywhere.

In Rem’s hand hangs a bottle of whiskey, capped, but when Rem leans down to press a kiss to Nakoa’s lips, he tastes sober. Like toothpaste.

Nakoa chases Rem’s mouth with his own when he pulls away. Rem smirks. His gaze lingers on the tape recorder. “This for me?”

“Fuck off,” Nakoa says. He’d picked up the tape recorder in a pawn shop for a few bucks, one night, and a pack of blank tapes, too. He’s tossed out one shitty mixtape once already, to throw Rem off his tail, to keep him from immediately suspecting. Kind of counterintuitive—the whole point of the mixtape is so Nakoa doesn’t have to say anything—but it calms the anxiety some. That tape had a bunch of Madonna and Bon Jovi, interspersed with just enough of what Rem likes to keep him from telling Nakoa to fuck off and replace the mix with something else.

But it’s hell, finding songs for him. It’s a fucking nightmare. Nakoa has two, right now; a Queen song and a Bowie song, and it feels like the damn thing is never going to be completed. There are a million songs out there, but they’re too cheesy. Too fast, too slow, too cheap, too cliche. Whatever Nakoa’s looking for, he hasn’t found it yet.

Rem’s hand is cold in Nakoa’s, though. There’s a chill to the air, but Rem is warm when he pulls Nakoa against him, brushes his lips against Nakoa’s hair, and laughs as he says, “You need a fucking shower.”

“Rich, coming from you.” Not that Nakoa minds; or not that he can say anything about it. They both need showers, water pressure better than what by-the-hour motels have to offer. Some fucking soap.

Nakoa hums under his breath, already trying to budget out what they’ll need. He can’t.

“What are you humming?” Rem asks. His breath is warm against Nakoa’s ear, his arm a pleasant weight over Nakoa’s waist. It’s been a few days since they’ve fucked. Rem’s been going, too much, switched on too often. Nakoa jerks him off in the van, sometimes, on open stretches of road, sometimes Rem returns the favor, but Nakoa’s getting restless.

That was the beauty of Withervale, Nakoa thinks. The opportunity to do whatever the fuck they wanted, whenever. And it’s not like they couldn’t pick any town they pleased, settle in, but the call of the open road sounds like the call of a siren, to Nakoa; irresistible.

“Sounds like Queen,” Rem says.

“Good ear.”

“Mm.” Rem’s voice is already drifting. Nakoa waits until Rem’s breathing evens out, sneaks back out to where the recorder sits on the old picnic table next to the van.

It’s dawn sooner than Nakoa expects, and there’s a vicious crick in his neck that throbs and burns when he moves his head.

But, after searching through multiple tapes, through radio stations, through mixtapes… Nakoa’s finished.

He clears his throat. Hits stop on the recorder, then hesitates, his finger over the record button again. He could say it, here. Tell Rem everything he wants to say, even though words are meaningless. It’s easy to recognize that, with Rem. The amount of things that just happen, the words that fall from Rem’s mouth.

Nakoa shoves the tape in the stereo of the van, and crawls back onto the mattress. Rem’s breathing is still slow and steady.

He doesn’t move towards Nakoa in his sleep, so Nakoa does it instead. Presses himself against Rem’s side and curls against him. Nakoa breathes him in, stretches his legs, and passes out.

He wakes to Freddie Mercury singing over staticky, broken speakers, quiet, barely audible. Nakoa stretches his arms over his head, yawns, and sits up.

Rem’s behind him, hands in his lap, picking at the last few remnants of his nail polish from his nails. Nakoa makes a mental note to pick some up, if he can find any.

Nakoa watches him, for just a moment, head tilted to the side, before Rem says, “I like this one.”

His heart swells. A grin grows on his face. “Yeah?”

Rem says nothing, though. Just starts the van, puts it into gear, and drives.

Mist surrounds them, casts the road and woods in an eerie, romantic fog, and Nakoa listens as the tracks change from one to the next, discordant in genre but similar in theme.

Rem laughs when The Scorpions play, taps his fingers against the wheel, and Nakoa feels his heart sing along with the lyrics.

When the tape ends, Nakoa takes a deep breath into the silence, his breath loud in the empty space between them. Rem says nothing, seeming content in the quiet. Nakoa wants to fill the silence, somehow, but all the words feel wrong, now. The tape has already said everything he wants to say to Rem, more eloquently, more concise.

But the miles pass, and Rem says nothing. More miles pass—and he says nothing.

Nakoa resigns himself to nothing, disappointment growing in him like a wild beast, untamed and unmanageable. He bites at his fingernail. Lights a cigarette and takes two drags before he puts it back out.

Still, Rem says nothing.

So neither does Nakoa.