#this is why i hate people who speed up at yellow lights

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ W.CLARK ˖ TIL DEATH DO US PART.

pairing: wally clark x fem!reader. 

what to know | 80% angst with 20% of fluff, comfort. fic, a pretty sappy ending. i do not own these characters and this is all fiction! — lowercase is intended.

word count: 5,280 (oops) 

spoilers: death and characters (also assumptions about characters back story). 

☆ on rotation: hate to be lame by lizzie mcapline. lover sung by taylor swift. she was mine by aj rafael. better for you by siaopaolo.

star left a message! my first fic! hope you enjoy and let me know how you felt about it :)

ab. you and wally were inseparable. bared souls to each other but still dancing around the fact of feelings for each other but one night he gathers the courage to tell you how he feels, things don’t go the way he plans and spirals out of control.

1984.

the soft ringing of a phone rouses you awake, your room dark and cool from the gentle breeze coming through the crack in your window. you rub the drowsiness from your eyes before sitting up. glancing at your clock, beside it is the soft yellow landline that rings, a light but repetitive tone. the red glowing numbers reading 11:51 almost made you regret waking up to pick up the phone but the constant ringing means the caller must be persistent to get ahold of you. clearing your throat you pick up the phone, a soft hello emitting from your lips.

“hey sweetheart” you recognize the voice almost immediately, wally clark your best friend since middle school. you two are inseparable, always attached to the hip and despite his reputation, how popular he was. he never let it hinder your relationship. he always joked that you two were high school sweethearts minus the dating part which also always confused people when you had told them you were just friends but your heart hopes, yearns for more.

“hey, did something happen?” there must’ve been a reason why he called you in the first place but he quickly denies:

“oh-oh no, everything is going well… sorry did i wake you?” his voice comes out rushed, as if he’s trying to speed up the conversation. the tone confuses you but you continue.

“not really, i was just trying to fall asleep.” you softly respond. fiddling with the cord, telling him a small white lie but if there was something about wally was that you never wanted him to feel bad at your expense, always saving him the tinge of guilt that affects him more than you thought. he was a soft soul, sensitive but resilient. one of the things that make you more drawn to him. he was someone who made you feel like you had a purpose in life.

“i, i uhm was wondering if you wanted to go for a drive. i-if not thats totally okay!” you can practically hear himself rubbing his neck. a constant habit he had when he was emmbarrased or unsure. you agree almost immediately. hearing the smile plastered on his face, he boasts about having the car for the night so it was the perfect time to make use of it. he promises he’ll come to get you in a few minutes so you rush to get dressed in warmer clothing compared to your sleep wear. as you wait for him, you couldn’t help but feel curious as to why he wanted to take you out at such a late hour. sure he didn’t get the car to himself often but from his tone you couldn’t help but feel something off. ultimately your mind settles on the fact that he just felt spontaneous and just wanted to spend time with your, knowing how the school year just began and he has been busy with the football team and his parents breathing down his neck, so maybe he needed an escape.

minutes pass and you hear the closing of a car door, then rounds of rubble as if someones walking down the side walk. you don’t know how but every time wally comes around, no matter what the sounds are- you always know it’s him and when you confessed this little sense of yours when he let out a boisterous laugh and told you “you have a little part of me then sweetheart.” that made your heart melt. excited, you softly pad down your steps and open the door before he can even let himself in. you had unlocked the door minutes prior to ensure a silent arrival. wally stands still for a few moments. his gaze focusing on your face, your cheeks blush as moments pass and his movement doesn’t change

“uh, earth to wally?” snapping your fingers in front of him, the taller boy jumps back in surprised wondering how you got there so fast, and how you look so effortlessly beautiful at midnight “done gawking yet clark?” laughing, sounding beautiful to his ears he looks away smiling shyly his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, a repeating his habit. “so where are we going?”becoming the most talkative already, in return there is no response. which is odd coming from you usually commentary filled best friend.

“no hi, how are you? do you not miss me?” lightly shoving his shoulder. you divert the subject to where he could be taking you, the cold air making you shiver as you wait for his response. but instead of giving you one he just leads you to his car across the street, no words exchanged. huffing at the lack of communication you follow him across the street (looking both ways before you cross of course)

the drive to the park is quiet— comfortable silence with the silent play of music fill the air as he drives, you look out the window to stare at the beautiful landscape of the city since wally gives no other form of entertainment to pass time. trying so hard not to stare at him as he drives, you don’t notice obviously since you’re not looking his way but there’s a line of sweat collecting on wally’s hairline but even if you saw you would shrug it off blaming it on his hoodie but no, wally was sweating for a completely different reason. he’s about to change your relationship forever. well, not forever but the outcome can go of two ways, good or bad; with no in-between.

wally clark is going to confess his undying love for you and he feels like he’s gonna throw up from how nervous he is. he didn’t even greet you, that’s how tense he’s feeling he couldn’t even form any coherent word when he saw you, hair ruffled laying in bed with sleepy eyes. it was an image that he wants tattooed on his forehead, dead serious. luckily you didn’t notice how nervous he is because you usually can read him very well additionally, you haven’t asked him anything so he’s relieved to see that nothing he’s done has gotten on your radar yet. well, he didn’t greet you when he picked you up but you just shrugged it off, not thinking to much of it. passing it as oncoming sleepiness from staying up. the ride was filled mostly silence and was also accompanied by mark or your occasion humming, soon you arrive at the park which you immediately recognize as the one where you first met wally, on the swing set late at night when his parent became overbearing. you follow wally out of the car and up a path to a grassy hill out looking the neighborhood and beautiful night sky. he takes a seat and you follow after him, sitting next to him with little space between the two of you.

the scene is quite picturesque, wally wishes he brought his polaroid as he looks up at the stars hoping they’ll talk back to him, talk him out of it or something— maybe some encouragement because he’s been hyping himself up for this moment for so long, okay just for three hours but leading up to this moment he felt like time was moving so slow. the two of you just sit in silence for a while looking at the beautiful night sky until wally speaks up.

“i have something to tell you.” he starts, his voice slightly wavering. you turn immediately to look at him as this is the first thing he’s said to you since he picked you up, a sour feeling rests in your stomach as you process what he said, in fear of hearing what he actually he has to say, you try to figure it out yourself. which you’ll find out yourself was not the greatest idea. sitting up straight you look directly at him with a hand on his shoulder.

“wait don’t tell me, you’re moving? you got early acceptance to ohio state? if so and you’re only telling me now i’m going to murd— or no have you gotten yourself a girlfriend because god knows you nee—“wally shakes his head barely scoffing a laugh.

“no, that is not what i’m gonna tell you! now can you please stop talking? i practiced in front of my mirror for this.” practicing in-front the mirror for what? you tilt your head confused, but turn it upright immediately when another thought comes to mind.

“are you going to show me that stupid dances you’ve been learning because—“

“no! y/n let me say what i need to say before i vomit on your shoes.”

“hold on wha—“

“oh my god y/n! i like you! okay! i like you. god i asked you to not talk and yet you did.”

your heart drops and the sour feeling only heightens. wally on the other hand is frustrated and embarrassed because of your interruptions and his sudden outburst to you. it was uncalled for, he knows. high on his emotions the quarterback stands up from his spot and starts walking down the hill, ruffling his hair in frustration. cheeks red from both embarrassment and the cold. can’t believe you just confessed to her like that! horrible wally clark. now she’s not gonna even want to accept your confession. ‘vomit on your shoes’ what kind of line is that? seriously.

he groans, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he continues down the path. not even bothered to see if you’re following him, he probably just ruined your friendship for life. he’s never going to let himself live this down.

wally is mad at himself, not even you, he’s only a tad bit mad at you for you cutting him off but he’s more mad at himself— he shouldn’t have beaten around the bush, should’ve just told you there and then not have any cheesy climax to it; would’ve gotten it over with quickly. you watch wally walk off while you stay planted in your seat. still processing what happened. wait, wally clark just confessed to you, the man you’ve unknowingly devoted yourself for just confessed and you were interrupting him! what are you doing go after him! y/n go! you scramble from your spot. feeling guilty for cutting him off, you probably sent his confidence down the hill with him. god you felt horrible. “wally! wait!” you call from behind him almost tripping from the decline of the hill but with sportsmen instincts he catches you by your arm. “wally, oh my god. i’m sorry for cutting you off— i’m such a jerk for that.”you say as you pant for breath, your heart racing. you look at his side profile and he’s avoiding your gaze completely, moving his head to look to the side you’re not on. “it’s alright, let me just take you home.” a breath leaves you, take you home? that was the last thing you wanted right now “wally i—“ he cuts you off like you did to him earlier “y/n really, i accept your apology. let me— let me just take you home please.” he is dying from embarrassment at this point, might as well put him out of his misery. “but–“ you start while wally let’s out a hefty sigh and inhales harshly from his nose, rubbing the side of it with his thumb. “y/n can we just forget this all happened? it’s really late i’ll just get you home before anyone realizes your gone.” his tone is distant and really pulls at your heart strings, you didn’t want to forget about this, well some parts of it you wanted to remember like him confessing to you! but you didn’t mean to make him upset; he probably is thinking the worse right now and it’s all because of you, it’s all your fault.

you don’t say another word as you nod when wally briefly glances at you, his light touch on your arm leaves as he continues his walk to the car park. you follow behind quietly, guilt eating you up as you look at wally posture slump as he walks, he’s head hung low. looking small— all because of you.

the drive back to your house was even worse, it was quiet. no music no humming, nothing. just silence— you wanted to say something make it right again but you were afraid to worsen his mood more than you’ve already done. no farewells are exchanged when wally arrives in front of your home, he wanted to say something, anything but he just let the opportunity pass. although, just as you’re about to close the door, he murmurs a soft good night that you wish he could tell you looking in your eyes but instead his eyes stay downcast on the steering wheel. he doesn’t leave right away, he waits until you’re safely inside your house and then some more. he throws his head back wallowing in his emotions, he wished the earth would just swallow him up. when you get into your room, you peak through your blinds and see that wally is still there, you watch as he sits there, eyes closed and head back then he hits the wheel of his car a few times eliciting a gasp from you, feeling more guilty. eventually watching him depart from your street.

wally clark was avoiding you, you knew that much. after what happened that night wally began acting like you didn’t exist– as if you weren’t his best friend; as if he didn’t confess his feelings for you— which you’ve been thinking about for the last few days. it hurts, that wally’s acting so distant. he’s been hanging out with his jock friends— but you can tell his mood isn’t the same. usually preppy and extraverted, practices consuming his time and plans that pop out of thin air that keeps him busy so he doesn’t have to think about what happened with you, to distract him. you’ve tried calling him but it’s all been sent to voicemail or his mother ends up answering the phone, you could tell but it hasn’t been to easy for wally either. he feels like a dick for being this way after what happened but he’s just not ready to face you— face you’re rejection, face the embarrassment, face the spot in his heart for you that he now has to make disappear. he’s just not ready.

this whole wally avoiding you thing has gone longer than you both had expected— you, you were counting the days until wally spoke to you again and honestly you are becoming more concerned with how this is dragging out. you miss your best friend for goddess sake! you miss his corny jokes, his contagious laughter, his habit of running his hands through his had, how excited he gets when he see’s dogs on the street. you just miss him... you miss everything about him, your constant now gone. unfortunately you never end up getting the time to talk to him and by now its been months, now the homecoming game you plan on talking to him after the game. no excuses, no if, ands or buts can interfere with the dire need of bringing him back to you.

the chilly air nips at your cheeks as you stand in the bleachers watching the game. you were never a sports fan especially for football but when your best friend’s whole personality is devoting himself to the sport— not even for him but for his family, you had no choice but getting yourself used to the sport. you went to every game, however far it was you went. distance didn’t hinder your support for him. the game feels aching long and the constant cheering from both schools make it hard for you to focus, you just wanted things to be okay with him. you didn’t want to keep this cold war between the two of you.

now in the second half, you watch from the stands as wally takes a seat onto the metal bench. his mother right behind him. the conversation must be tense because as soon as the finish speaking. he’s up on his feet again. your chest tightening at the thought of how much pressure he’s under right now. you hold your breath as you watch wally catch the ball, running towards the the five yard line when a linebacker runs straight into him, tackling him— wally breaking his fall. you let out a shuttering breath as you watch him, your best friend lie there on the field and it feels as if time stops; you stand on the bleachers in disbelief. praying to some higher up that he’s okay and just being dramatic before getting up like he always does… but that never happens. all air is taken from your chest as you dreadfully walk down the bleachers, hoping this was some sick dream you were bound to wake up from. clamors of terror and commotion fill the stadium as the beloved football player is declared dead on the field. tears are streaming down your face, watching his body being carried in a black body bag that he would’ve joked about it being a tacky way of being taken out.. but theres no room for that you’ve never felt so empty, so helpless as you do in this moment. now never being able to accept is confession, apologize, make a amends. there was no future for you without him.

all wally can see is black, a dark abyss that consumes his vision as he feels weightless, as if he isn’t in his body. an out of body experience that he hopes to recover from. that he’s just in a coma and he’ll be reunited with you and tell you all the things he didn’t get to tell you sooner. his mind is consumed by the thought of you, even before the accident he wanted to see you, talk to you, hold you in his arms but when he opens his eyes he’s greeted by the bright lights of the football field. being completely alone in the stadium. still in his uniform. he sits up dazed and confused. he feels fine, if anything he feels like a whole new person as if he’s been given a second chance in living but what he’ll soon to find out, its not in the way he thinks. he feels a bit light headed as he stands and his eyes immediately landing on a figure when he had thought he was alone. he shouts to get their attention to no avail, confused; he continues to shout walking closer to them. as he gets closer he realizes it’s you with your head in your hands and yours shoulders shaking as you wail to your hearts content. he calls out to you, at first soft but then more desperate as you don’t hear him. he feels frustrated as tears of his own stream down his face.

he cries “yn, sweetheart please, please.” his chest tightening at the sounds of your crying. pleading, begging. a mantra repeating under his breath. he doesn’t want this to be it, to be over for him, for you. he can’t lose you. he doesn’t know where he is, how he got here and he especially doesn’t understand why you can’t hear or see him. if this what death is like he thinks he landed in hell.

wally doesn’t notice the man standing by the entrance. the man that he’ll soon find out is a guide into understanding what exactly is happening and coming to terms with the fact that he’s dead and will never be able to live the life he wanted with you. instead he’ll watch you grow without him as he’ll stay forever eighteen.

‘wallowing wally’ is the nickname rhonda had come up for him. jason chides rhonda for picking on the mourning boy but she insists it was to lighten the mood, the outcome being the complete opposite. when he was first introduced to the group he was quiet, timid, distant. the others understood the feelings and recent thoughts about the afterlife at split river and had assumed he would grow out of it. but no, it continues and rhonda’s continuous jokes about his behavior being the complete opposite to the boisterous quarterback he once was— but that guy since died along with his corpse. he’s now just a shell of who he was.

it was hard for him to watch you at first, he didn’t see you for weeks after his death but when you finally came back to school. you were an entirely different person; you looked paler, bags under your eyes, lifeless as you walked down the halls with soft murmurs about your appearance as you walk by. his heart shatters into pieces watching you, sitting alone during breaks. staring into space during class completely dissociative during class. you distanced yourself from your peers and never responded when someone gave you condolences about your best friend, just nodding then walking away. your were mourning the death of him and he couldn’t handle watching it. you’re hurting at his expense and it’s breaking his already shattered heart that can’t be mended.

so he distanced himself from you. like he did at the end of his life, he couldn’t bare to see you hurt so he spent most of his days on the rooftop. only coming down for snacks or to catch up with the others  but then back at his spot. never going to group because he didn’t want to talk about it. how a little of guilt sits in him everyday watching you mourn for him. days blur by and eventually wally extends to the stadium— he’s bitter, yes that he died during a game, without a fight but it was easier for him to get over compared to you. he will never get over you. he takes his time walking onto the field, closer he sees the memorial left for him. his picture surrounded by candles, flowers, notes and other things left by other students. he’s consumed by the notes and messages his peers left him that he doesn’t realize jason joining him.

“wally” he calls, the boy turns with his hands shoved in his varsity jacket. looking over at the latter with a questioning look. watching the male with his hand over his face shielding him from the sun.

“there’s something i think you wanna see.” as much as he doesn’t want to follow jason or be lead into his trap of being forced into group he couldn’t help the feeling of interest that fills him. as expected they’re towards the gym and as wally is about to protest jason interjects with strong statements about something being there for him. for the first time wally feels hopeful, that something happened— miraculously. he follows jason into the gym. the sight of the circle of chairs in the corner of the gym prominent in his vision but now he sees an extra person taking up another seat. he wasn’t aware that another death had happened at the school and if there was he would’ve been there. heard the sounds of death within the walls. he gets closer and closer, expectant of what jason kept hyping him up about. he’s about to inquire what it is when his eyes land on you. sitting in his seat, he stares at you in disbelief. you dont notice him at first and he takes is as a time to take up you appearance. one that he hasn’t seen in a while.

you look healthier, definitely healing from the homecoming game. you’re wearing a stripped sweater he had lent you, slightly oversized and a pair of dark wash jeans and your beat up converse. the only piece sticking out from your ensamble was the beige apron, stained with clay. it’s quiet around the group before mr. martian walks inside greeting the others.

“wally finally joining us i see.” that name catches your attention. you look up from the gym floor to your recently deceased best friend. your breath hitched, blood running cold, were your eyes deceiving you? you had just seen him died moths ago, the vision still etched in your mind and now suddenly he’s standing in front of you like he’s fine. you think your gonna throw up. wally never expected for his to happen, he didn’t expect for you to react by running out of the gym with your hand over your mouth… it was all to much but the feeling in his heart makes him run after you.  he doesn't know where you went at first but the rounds of retching in the girls bathroom makes him suspect that you’re in there.

“sweetheart, i know you’re in there and i’m not gonna go in there… for obvious reasons but i-i just want to talk.” wally runs his hand over his face, feeling stupid for what he just said. he had such a habit for blabbering even if it was a serious situation. still he just can’t believe you can see him, as much as he wanted to know how you dies; he pushes that thought to the back of his mind, his main focus was making things right with you. he stands by the door waiting for you to finish. he can hear the toilet flushing, then the stall door and the faucet running. his nerves are through the roof as he hears you footsteps come closer. he calls out your name softly as you walk out, ready to be on his knees begging you to forgive him, for what he did, ignoring you for so long, not giving you the time of day. he’s ready for you to yell and shout at him, slap him if you wanted to. he was ready for it. instead, the second you walk out you pull him into a tight hug. noticing the absence of your apron, shoving that thought behind. he bends over a bit to accommodate the height difference. he immediately wraps his arms around you, relishing in your body heat. he’d missed you so much that he almost forgot what it felt like to be in your presence but now that you’re here, there’s no need to worry for that anymore. the hug lasts for a while and soon the wet feeling of tears coat wally’s neck and varsity jacket as you silently cry into his shoulder. he soothingly rubs your back and gently rocking you back and forth, trying his best to comfort you while not trying to cry himself. your knees buckle and he easily catches you, whispering soft nothings to you. it takes you sometime to calm down. nevertheless he waits. listening to your cries become softer, hiccuping for breath as you slowly depart from him.

"i missed you." you tremble in a whisper. he gives you a sad smile cupping your cheek in his hand, gently swiping your tears away.

"i missed you too, sweetheart. fresh tears form on your waterline, eyebrows scrunched you grasp his face, pulling him into a kiss. he's astounded, the feeling of your lips on his was one he dreamt about for years, now here it is and he's standing there like an idiot not kissing you back. his grasps at your waist, the kiss is different from any he's never experienced. it's slow and passionate. you've been yearning for each other for  years, dancing around the potential of where your relationship can go. you're tired of waiting even after death. you relish in the way you lips feel on his after feeling so lost without him with all that emotion you’ve bottled up when you realize that you're in love with him. words cannot express how much he has an affect of you and he can say the same thing about you.  you both pull away a little breathless. you've been waiting to do that for years and wally is a bit envious that you beat him to it. your foreheads are pressed softly together, just standing in each others presence. it's a soft, intimate moment.

"i thought i was never going to see you again." you begin looking into wally's eyes. he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, urging you to continue. “i thought i would've never be able to tell you how i feel. i-i was going to tell you after the football game but... you know.” wally stiffens, he can only assume what you'll say next but whether you break his heart of make his dreams come true. his feelings for you won't change.

“wally, you mean so much to me. you're my rock, always there for me when i need you. no matter what is it— if it was helping me pick out outfits when you hate to shop or picking me up from a disastrous date. i didn't know what it would be like to live without you until it actually happened. i felt lost, i felt like i didn't have a purpose without you. like a part of me died when you did. you give me direction, a purpose. wally clark, i love you. i love everything about you. you're little habits, the things you hate about yourself i love it all." tears are free falling again when you finish and wally's eyes are blurred with tears as he looks at you with all the love and adoration in the world. he lets out a laugh and your face almost twists into hurt when he immediately brings you close by the waist, standing at full height. he reassures you almost immediately.

"stealing my thunder again huh sweetheart?" he jokes, a smile on his face. it's hard to stay mad at him, especially with that face— trying your best to keep a stoic face while he speaks. "i was supposed to say it first." he pouts. and you shake your head, a smile peeking from your lips but you remain. he brings his hand to cup your cheek and the other on the small of your back. "but i couldn't have said it better than you. you're the only one i think understands me the best, you see right through me and can tell if i'm having a bad day or hiding something. you supported me through my football career especially when my parents seemed like they cared more about the sport than their own son. you defend me, protect me— even though i feel like i should be doing that with you. you make me feel special. i love you and i always wanted to tell you that. no matter what you do, make me sad or mad. i'll always love you."

you flush at his words, feeling small in his embrace. your feelings have never felt so strong and it honestly felt a little overwhelming, but seeing the smile on his face eases you. you lean into his touch, your throat tightening at the new thoughts looming your mind.

"what if i'm not good enough for you.” your voice comes out strained, strong with emotion. he interjects immediately. insisting that there was no one else out that that could change his mind. you were it for him. he pours his heart out to you and you the same.  a smile graces you face and wally swears his heart melts. he'll do anything to protect that smile on your face til the day he dies... again.

"it's me and you against the world, sweetheart." he kisses the crown of your head, taking your hand and pulling you down the hall. maybe death isn’t so bad after all.

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[princesssmars]

unexpected

an ellabs x black!streamer!reader

some times your viewers expect you're in a relationship, and one time you spell it out clearly for them.

wc : 1.860

contains : reader is feminine ! the picture is more lightskin but all shades can read <333 ltlvc reference

a/n : coming up with chat usernames is so hard what the fawk??? but yeah while i ignore trolls the ones under these tags were pissing me off so i wrote this for my fellow black girlies <333 i hope u enjoy :)

lets get one thing out of the way, you loved being a streamer. now that you had a good following of a few thousand regular watchers, you were more than financially stable, got to do something you enjoyed as a job, and even made a few new streaming friends.

but when it came to those friends, every content creator knew simple friendships could stir up drama. you had heard of many cases of friendships being strained or ruined because of this job. more specifically because of the fans.

which is why you took an oath to leave finer details like relationships out of your work. if you did tell a story about that time you and your friends nearly got kicked out of a local mall's journey's, you would keep descriptions of friends brief and blank, even resorting to calling people "friend number one, friend number two..."

luckily most of your fans were more than understanding that you wanted to keep some of your life private.

most of them.

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case one : the first p.o. box

it was another po box opening stream you decided to start early in the day, wanting to show and appreciate chat with the things they got for you.

lululemonsz : babe i hope its a new keyboard urs is on a iv drip !

wariolover96 : open it open the box OPEN IT

shelovedantee : damn is there a bomb in it hurry up

you laughed looking at all the people in chat begging you to open the current package in your hand.

"everybody chill out. look, im gonna open the first one now."

you quickly got a pair of scissors to cut off the packing tape on both ends, hurrying to pull the cardboard from its place.

the chat started speeding up when your mouth fell open in shock, slowly reaching in and pulling out the keyboard. it was sleek, mechanical, and your favorite color.

biiiigpoo : omg isnt that thing like $250?

lululemonsz : this as the first gift is CRAZY

ilovestardewmc1237 : one of your viewers is in love with you

you couldn't even respond, turning the keyboard over and back again to admire the details of it. out of the corner of your eye you spot a little yellow sticky note at the bottom, bringing it up to read it without letting the camera see. once you got to the end, your eyes widened and you quickly moved on to the next gifts.

but the light reflecting from your window and monitor was enough for chat to see a few letters on the note. after that, your fandom quickly began talking of a person named "A" who had not only the money to get you crazy expensive keyboards, but was also able to fluster you with a small note.

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case two : the search history.

every so often, your mods would host little events on your stream. these could include giveaways, shitty chat therapy, and little games for everyone to play. today it was a challenege : the more bits people donated, the crazier stuff you had to do for them. it was all pretty tame, and the end goal was one you didnt think you'd manage to hit.

never doubt the power of charisma and a pretty face, because after only three hours you manged to reach that two thousand dollar mark, and chat was raving at what you'd have to reveal next : your search history.

ariagatorr : damn this lowkey invasive 💀

devonchcgo22 : and we dont give a fuck

plantsnparsnip : right open that shit up

"i hate yall, do you know that? like genuinely." you groaned, slowly movied your mouse to open your chrome history.

there wasn't much for chat to bully you about thankfully, just some light teasing about how much you use pinterest and asking what it was you bought on etsy. and just when you thought you were done, someone had to open their big damn mouth.

pian0picass0 : wait a minute why did you open ellies stream THREE times ????

chat started moving faster as they read the comment, everyone asking you to open the stream and show them what was going on. sucking your teeth and denying them as you had shown them what they wanted!

after quickly wrapping up the stream and giving your thanks and goodbyes, a portion of viewers went on a manhunt for any ellie who was streaming at the moment.

once clicking on the stream, they found it was just a casual stream with ellie. she was obviously pretty, but was super laid-back in her jeans and converse as she strummed some songs on her guitar.

"oh hey, welcome to the stream i guess. any requests? i was gonna practice some radiohead because my friend asked for it."

pian0picass0 : hey ellie! do you know who (y/u) is by any chance?

"'sup casso. uhhhh no i dont think i do. did she send yall over here? maybe ill check her channel out."

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

case three : the enhanced dm's

"everybody shut the fuck up and lets start this stupid thing."

this was it, one of your biggest streams of the year. and also the most fun. and most aggravating.

the gist was simple. you and 5 other streamers were thrown into a discord call and whoever lasted the longest through the sleep deprivation and challenges won a heap of cash.

what the hell was it with you getting screwed over by challenges?

it didn't seem that bad. the host, a close friend of yours, told you to share your screen so everyone could decide something to tweet from your twitter.

now, your friends in the call didn't notice what was on your screen when you shared it, and if they did they didn't say anything. but never doubt the perseverance of your crazy ass viewers, because one took the liberty to see exactly what you were saying in that split second they could see your dm's, because they swore they knew that profile picture...

abby : don't worry you'll do fine

abby : you're not gonna get embarrassed by any of the challenges

abby : i hope

y/n : seriously

abby : come onn you know i'm rooting for you &lt;3

y/n : aww thanks bee

abby : yup. for the whole event i'm gonna be your personal cheerleader ^3^

y/n : oooo you gonna put on a uniform for me?

abby : don't push it.

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

case four : the voice chat slip up

at this point, there was no point in acting like you didn't know the two streamers.

the first was abby. mostly posted fitness, health, and lifestyle videos on youtube, but would occasionally go live on twitch to talk with her fans or stream herself working out at the gym.

(you may or may not have admitted live that you found her by watching a few of her workout streams. whoops.)

and then there was ellie, a gaming streamer who was known for being chill and quiet when playing music but as loud as a plane engine when playing cs:go. don't even get her started on cod.

but luckily you'd manage to convince her to play some games with you on your latest stream! some stardew, maybe some overcooked. even if she kept burning all of the damn food.

leave it to ellie williams to always surprise you, though.

when you hear the du-dum of the discord join noise, your face lights up and your mouth opens to greet ellie before she beats you to it.

"ok, babe, which game we playin first?"

to make a long story shot, your chat went ballistic and you gave a stern talking to the red head after the stream ended.

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

case five : the instagram post

most of the time you leave most of your notifications off to avoid your phone sounding like a constant alarm. but you're guessing your recent endeavor of babysitting your cute but horrifically grabby nephew screwed you over, because before you know it the sound of dozens on instagram notifications are waking you up and pushing your bonnet from where it slipped down your eyes before unlocking your phone.

at first it seems like a normal picture abby posted, standing in front of a mirror in her living room , flexing her arm and covered in a thin sheen of sweat after an apparent workout session. ever the show off.

but when you zoomed into a blip of color in the background, your eyes almost pop out of your head when you see it.

its you and ellie, you sitting in her lap while she showed you some stupid meme on her phone she said reminded her of you.

the post was only thirty minutes old but already had a few thousand comments, the previes of 'OMG?????' and "no fucking way" giving you a hint to what people were thinking.

you turned off your phone, tossed it back on the nightstand and went back to sleep.

●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘●∘◦❀◦∘

case six : the joint stream

y/nsstan69 : not an unscheduled stream ??? is it judgement day ???

onlycuntz : "ft surprise guest" girl we aren't stupid

you had to hide the smile from appearing on your face as you read through the comments of your chat. you knew some of them were probably smart enough to know what was going on. the three of you hadn't really been discrete in the days following abby's slip up post, and viewers jumped at the chance to point you out in the background of some of her workout videos. and to point out how you were staring at her.

assholes.

so, here you sat in the comfort of your cute gaming chair ready to tell chat the big news with your special guest.

"so, i bet some of you are wondering why im streaming off schedule, but i had something big in my personal life that i wanted to tell you guys! in a few minutes my gest should be here..."

your voice trailed off as you kept your eye on chat, seeing a bunch of comments that you werent expecting from this big announcement.

motionpickers : lmaooooo are they serious

lululemonsz : she's gonna be so pissed

you begin to turn around in your chair when two pairs of lips press a kiss to each of your cheeks.

"you guys are so unserious."

"and you are so bad at hiding things." ellie pulls up and extra chair and rolls it up to yours so her knees touch yours. she tugs your hand into hers to sit on her lap, ignoring when you pinch her with your nails.

"ignore her. we could tell what you were doing and figured we should all do it together," abby is on your other side, resting her hip on the arm of your chair. "so, go ahead. it's pretty obvious already."

"wow, thanks for the support you guys."

"anytime, hun."

uhuhstasia : i literally cant tell whos luckier

niatargaryen : IS ANYBODY ELSE FREAKNG OUT

ilovestardewmc1237 : is it appropiate to say i called this

[l-norris]

The summerbreak is over and the Dutch GP is underway!

Honestly, I can feel the years subtracted of my life already, heh.

DISCLAIMER: Remember that this is just for shits and giggles, I'm not trying to actually hate on any of the drivers cuz all (most) of them are very dear to me!

As always - numbers in brackets = lap numbers

- Formation lap is on

- Welcome back to F1, where your hairs grey in a matter of seconds

- Mom I'm scared

- it fuckem wimdy

- heart rate through the roof, anxiety growing

- Lando don't bottle the start please🙏🏻

- It's lights out and away we go!

- ... UGHHH

- death, taxes, Lando bottling the start

- (not actually him but more like the car)

- Didn't even make it to the first turn this time

- 'Red Bull aren't fast' MY ASS

- To be fair Oscar's start was also kinda meh

- so much wheelspin

- Kevin locks up on lap 1 too

- Max pulls away (8)

- "Lando who are we racing?" Uuuuuh... everyone??

- Some battling and overtaking from Lewis (10)

- Spicy battle between Carlos and Pierre (11)

- "We are on Plan A"

- FERRARI🤨

- Just a quick note that Lando actually keeps up with Max

- Alex pits (13)

- Lando in DRS window

- Lewis is on the chase (16)

- It's getting spicy up front

- Boys. Behave.

- "There are no smiles on the Red Bull pit wall. Only grimaces." Good!

- Lando overtakes Max! (18)

- Masterpiece of an overtake

- Guanyu pits (20)

- Lando pulls away (21)

- Wind is picking up

- Bro I was looking away for two minutes and Lando is 3 seconds ahead??

- Lewis pits (24)

- Charles pits (25)

- George pits (26)

- Ferrari got their shit together also?

- rare Ferrari W

- Max pits (28)

- makes me nervous

- Lando pits (28)

- left front issue😀

- But he overcuts Max!

- Sheer, dumb luck, McLaren. Sheer, dumb luck.

- We currently have a McLaren 1-2

- Lando fastest lap (32)

- Only three people left who haven't pitted yet

- Hello McLaren? Are you gonna pit Oscar anytime soon?

- Now's the time (34)

- Charles is third in THAT SHITBOX?!

- Pierre unsafe release

- Lando is now 8 seconds ahead of Max (36)

- Lance speeding in pitlane

- Lando is now 9 seconde ahead of Max (38)

- Pre-Miami me would have an aneurysm

- Lance 5-second-penalty

- Oscar is in George's rear

- GET HIM!

- Oscar is now fourth

- Lando is now 10 seconds ahead of Max (40)

-Kevin gets OBLITERATED by MULTIPLE cars

- Alex is almost in the points

- Why is Max gaining all of a sudden

- Nevermind just a moment of weakness I guess

- Lando is now 11 seconds ahead of Max (44)

- Sorry I'll stop lmao

- Oscar is chasing down Charles

- While Carlos is stuck behind Checo

- Why are McLaren so positive that a Safety Car will come out (47)

- There hasn't been a single yellow flag or retirement so far what are you lot planning

- Carlos finally passes Checo

- Lewis pits (49)

- I know I said I'd stop but 13 SECOND LEAD?? INSANE (51)

- Bro's gonna be a whole pitstop ahead at the end of this

- Very demure. Very mindful.

- A few pitstops happen (54)

- 15 laps to go

- Nothing is happening (59)

- Rare Lando footage on Live TV (62)

- Lewis P14 to P8 btw

- Ferrari flop era is no more

- Fernando passes Nico (64)

- The rookie is in the points now

- Quick update: 18 seconds gap between Lando and Max (66)

- You're doing amazing sweetie

- Nor Ver Lec Podium looking real nice rn (67)

- 5 laps to go!

- Dead silence in the McLaren garage

- 20 SECOND LEAD NOW HOLY SHIT

- 3 laps to go!

- LET'S GO LANDO!

- FINAL LAP!

- RAAAAAAAAAAAH

- 21 SECONDS NOW

- ANY SECOND NOW!

- HE WINS IT!

- SECOND WIN FOR LANDO NORRIS

- POLE, WIN, FASTEST LAP AND DRIVER OF THE DAY!

- GRAND. SLAM.

- He's very calm, very collected.

- Weekend saved, thanks Lando👍🏻

- Also Charles is back on the podium

- No more 'Terrible day for Tifosi'

- CHAMPAGNE POP!

What. A. Race.

Awesome way to start back into the second half of the season. I'm on an all-time high right now, hahaha. Really happy for Lando, and also happy for Charles to be back on the podium!

[zelphin124]

The Error in Aim - Chapter five

Heh, you stuck around long enough for more. I'm impressed by your determination... Let's see where this goes this time. (I'm so sorry it took me so long to get to this-) As always, check out the masterpost for all the info on this story. Happy birthday, Aim! (Dec 12th) Hope you have a wonderful day! @zu-is-here Let's continue once more.

~oOo~

"W-W-Wake up."

The subtle change in the darkness already jolted Aim awake. He lay faced towards the wall, taking a deep breath before sitting up to look at the destroyer.

Error glitched, staring down at him. His gaze was more solemn than the first time. He would blend in perfectly with the absence of light if it weren't for his bright red shirt and yellow highlights. The strings woven across his fingers glowed.

Crickets chirped outside at the same speed the stars twinkled at. There was no moon or sun in sight. The grass blew gently in the wind, making no sound. The trees that wove above the grass also swayed, making the area very peaceful-

Error moved out of the room. His pace was quick, and he didn't look back. Aim shot out of bed, stumbling after him. He barely put on his shoes before he bolted out the door. However, he slowed his pace as he remembered what his uncle said the day before.

His eyes lit up as his soul felt heavy. Sadness was always an emotion he discarded; he couldn't recall ever forcefully putting sadness within his soul. He hoped it was enough to wake up Uncle Mare as he followed the destroyer.

"H-Hurry, b-boy." Error snapped. "I-I-I don't go-o-ot all night."

Aim observed the emotions the destroyer was feeling. He was tired... very tired. His eyes sagged like he hadn't slept in days. His body was hunched over and alert as if he was just in a fight. He couldn't help but feel pity once more for the destroyer and was about to offer to help his emotions.

"Don't l-l-look at m-me like t-that!" Error hissed, stepping away from the child as he continued along the path. "I'm fine!"

"Are you?"

Error whipped around, his gaze locking on the figure who spoke. Aim sighed in relief, recognizing the voice immediately. His powers had worked, and Nightmare found them. He removed any remaining sadness from his heart, hating the feeling of sorrow.

"N-N-Nightmare," Error rolled his eyes. "I'm s-surprised it's y-you, and not the f-father of a-anomaly #241."

"His name is Aim," Nightmare took a step closer, adjusting his hat. "And I'm one of the people looking after him."

Aim was cut off by Error as he spoke again. "W-What d-d-do you w-want?"

"I was about to ask the same thing," Nightmare got even closer, ignoring Aim and staring Error dead in the eye. He looked up at the destroyer, regarding their height difference. The negative emotions were churning like a stormy sea within him. "This isn't what we agreed to."

"A-A-And?" Error glitched, his face as dead as he felt inside.

"Where are you taking him?"

"The A-Anti-Void."

"No, absolutely not," Nightmare's eyes narrowed. "That place is too dangerous."

Dangerous? Aim recalled the previous time he had gone to the Anti-Void. It wasn't dangerous at all... In fact, it was so empty and dull, Aim figured it was safer than the AU he lived in. Did Nightmare think such an empty space would drive him insane? Or was it dangerous because only Error could go in and out of that area? Maybe it was dangerous because Error lived there.

But if they were trusting Error to train Aim, why should there be any danger?

"I-I brought h-h-him back a-alive before, I'll d-do it a-a-again." Error shrugged, looking down at his fingers as they weaved themselves into the strings around them.

"That's not what I mean!" Nightmare hissed. "I don't want his SOUL corrupting in there!"

This brought more questions than answers to Aim. Souls corrupting in the Anti-Void? How did that happen? All of the souls strung in the ceiling seemed perfectly fine. Was Nightmare talking about the curse he and Dream suffered from? Aim didn't understand how that could happen. It was a curse, not a corruption, right? To be corrupted would be a fault, a mistake...

An error.

"Y-Y-You're the o-one to talk a-a-about corru-u-uption, o-o-octopus." Error smirked, glacning up from his strings to the negative.

"Don't call me that! I am not he!"

"But y-you are h-he. So is y-y-your brother." Error lifted his eyebrow, clearly irritated. "Y-You're making n-no sense. The Anti-Void c-cannot awaken t-the corruption i-in him. It's n-not like A-Aim w-will e-eat t-the a-a-apple in t-the Anti-Void."

...

What apple?

"That's irrelevant and my point still stands," Nightmare dismissed the topic. "I don't want him becoming like you!"

Despite the smile that appeared on the destroyer's face as he continued to speak, Aim felt the jab of pain that he felt. Aim could only describe it as if the destroyer split in two. Outwardly, he laughed and mocked the negative. Inwardly, Aim felt his soul... crying.

What happened to him?

"B-B-Besides," the smile on Error's face faded. "D-Do you r-really waaaaaant me t-to train h-him here? I w-would r-r-rip this pla-ace to shreds b-by the e-end of e-e-every session!"

"If you would rip the place to shreds, that isn't training, that's attacking my nephew!" Nightmare's eyes were blue at this point, revealing the anger fuming inside him.

"You r-really think t-that p-p-paint freak i-is gonna g-go easy on him?"

Nightmare went silent, his eyes returning to normal. He glanced at Aim, knowing that too much had been shared. He opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again.

Aim let himself feel the tinge of hurt in his soul, knowing Nightmare could feel it as well. So much for no secrets, huh?

"T-That's w-w-what I thought." Error scoffed, gesturing Aim to continue walking as he opened the portal to the Anti-Void. "Now l-leave, and l-l-let me do w-what I agreed upon."

~o0o~

Aim rolled out of the way from the blast. Extending his hand, he summoned his own gaster blaster and fired it at the destroyer. As expected, he easily dodged. The grin on his face was amusing.

Aim summoned three bones and fired it at Error. Error used a bone wall to block them, teleporting in front of him.

"T-That's enough f-for today," The destroyer turned around. "Y-You've l-learned t-to use C-Cross' powers. I w-will t-teach you t-t-teleportation next time."

Aim collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily. These powers that his dead father used were... exhausting, to say the least. No wonder Cross was always tired after using them. No wonder he rarely used them at all. Aim thought back to the only time he saw his father fight. It's why he used his swords more than the powers, because they were physically exhausting.

Or Aim just wasn't used to it.

As Error cleaned up the bones around the white canvas, the conversation that Nightmare and Error had came back into Aim's focus. There was so much passed through that conversation, but one thing stuck out to Aim the most.

What did they mean by the apple?

If Nightmare had kept a secret about some sort of apple... then he probably didn't want to talk about it. Error referenced it as if it was an apple that caused the curse his uncle and father suffered from. Aim always thought it was just a generational curse... how could one apple cause so much suffering on a monster?

"Error," Aim stared at the Destroyer, choosing his words carefully. "What... what did you mean by the apple?"

Error looked as confused as he was. "W-W-What?"

"In you and Uncle Mare's conversation. You mentioned an apple as if it caused the curse."

The destroyer's face flattened. "It did," he rolled his eyes. "Those d-d-dang apples a-are the r-r-reason for this whoooooooole mess." He destroyed the bones by clenching his fingers. The strings around them disintegrated anything within their grasp. He looked really annoyed. "Let m-me guess. T-They didn't t-t-tell you that e-either."

Aim lowered his head. "N-No..."

"I s-swear they k-keep you i-in the d-d-dark about eeeeverything." Error slammed the strings he was holding onto the ground. "Ugh! F-Follow m-me."

Aim didn't have time to react as Error opened a portal behind him. Despite the pain he felt in his bones, Aim stood up and walked over to him.

The Anti-Void was gone, and the new AU was his surroundings before Aim could comprehend what was happening.

It was dark, but not just because of the night sky. The entire area was void of life. There was a city in the distance, but no lights were on, no smoke rose, and no conversation was heard. It was in the valley below, and the two skeletons were on a hill. There were remnants of bones everywhere, but most of them were decayed and returned to the earth from whence they came.

To Aim's right was a tree stump. A very large tree stump. It was unevenly cut, and the rest of the tree was nowhere to be seen. It looked like it had been chopped down in a hurry. It resonated with Aim in such a strange way. It called to him like a grandmother would call her grandchildren.

Error startled the boy as he joined his side. Error snickered as he stared at the stump. "T-They didn't t-tell you about t-this either, d-d-did they?"

Aim shook his head. In all honesty, he had no idea where he was. Why did Error bring him here? What even is this place? Maybe this would be the new training ground? No one was living here anyway.

"Sit." Error ordered, pointing at the stump. As Aim obeyed, he sat down on the grass in front of him, sighing before he started to speak.

Error started to tell a story. He explained the basic landscape of the world they were in long ago. He told Aim about the tree and all the delicious fruit it had on its trees. He talked about the two boys who guarded the tree. One of them was liked by all, and one of them was hated by everyone.

Aim listened intently as he described one of the boys being bullied. That boy was the one to take the apple and eat it. That boy turned into a monster and cut down the entire tree, killing everyone in the AU.

The other, after years of trying to stop the other boy, gave up and ate the apple as well, turning him into the monster that he fought against. It was only when the two boys met a soldier were they able to destroy the curse.

"T-That soldier w-was Cross," Error concluded. "Those f-fruits were apples, a-and those b-boys w-were your u-uncle and y-your father."

Everything started to make sense now. The secrets, the worries, how they acted around one another, why they never ate apples... everything clicked for Aim. A part of him was relieved to know it all now, but the other part of him was angry that all of this was kept from him for so long. If this was explained sooner, maybe half of the issues that his family had wouldn't exist.

Maybe Cross would still be alive if no secrets were kept.

"I b-bet t-they s-still h-have t-that apple s-somewhere," Error commented. "Locked a-away in their room."

"Why are you telling me this?" Aim asked as three tears fell down his face.

"A-Any p-power y-you c-can obtain w-will h-help y-you k-kill Ink," he said. "T-That a-apple c-can u-unleash a n-new power f-for you if y-you o-only t-take a s-simple bite."

What? "Have you not seen what that apple has done to my family? It should be destroyed!" Aim argued, standing up. "It's evil, and it corrupts everything it touches!"

Error narrowed his eyes. "Y-Y-You cannot d-defeat t-the paint f-freak while y-you're mmmmortal. Y-You w-will d-die just l-like y-your father d-d-did. I t-thought y-you w-were willing to d-d-do aaaaanything to get revenge, h-hmm?"

Although that's how he previously felt, Aim questioned his motives now that he knew the full story. His parents reactions made much more sense than before, and he understood their perspective. However, the reason he was with Error in the first place came to mind. Ink was hunting him down, and he would not stop until he had Aim. Either way, Aim would probably die. He wanted to go out fighting.

But did it have to involve the apple?

"I-I don't have t-t-time for y-you to decide, go h-home and w-we'll t-talk about i-it next t-time." Error stood up, opening a portal to the AU Aim knew the best.

Aim's eyes widened as the portal was pushed toward him. "Error, wait-"

But he was gone, and so was DreamTale. He stood in front of his house as the sun slowly rose. So much for discussing alternatives... Aim's mind raced as he opened the door and walked inside.

Dream wasn't in his room, nor was Nightmare or Killer. There was a note on the table saying they had run to get supplies for the day, with a little joke from Killer at the end. He smiled, grabbing some food from the kitchen before he headed toward the couch to sit down.

Dream's door was open.

Aim sat down his food, glancing into the hallway. The door was almost always shut, but it was wide open. Maybe Dream just forgot to close it... but it was still unusual.

He remembered what the destroyer had said about that apple still being around. He knew he didn't want to take a bite... but curiosity got the better of him. He stepped inside the room.

Did they really still have the apple? That was the question the boy asked as he observed his father's room for the first time in a long while. Most of the fabric was torn, dark, and covered in goop. There was a large pile of garments in the corner. It looked like a jail cell when Shattered came out, but Aim also noticed that there was effort to clean the room up.

It wasn't hard to spot the locked drawer inside the open closet. Aim bent down in front of it and turned the lock, wondering what the code was. It must have been at least fifteen tries before the lock broke, swinging the drawer wide open.

Aim couldn't believe his eyes. Error was right. Before him was a black apple, covered in tar. There were two large bites out of it, and it glowed with an unsettling presence.

Aim's heart started to beat out of his chest. Sweat dripped along his skull and his breathing became shallow. His hands instinctively picked up the apple and twirled it around. His mind was racing and he couldn't think straight.

Destroy it! Eat it! Destroy it! Eat it! Destroy it! Eat me, come on, just one bite...

Aim shook his head. Was the apple speaking to him? He swore he heard it whisper and call to him. When it did, it looked like the most pleasant thing to nibble at. His heart pounded, and he couldn't control his own emotions anymore.

... One bite can't hurt, right?

[quezzzs]

Prolonged keyboard clicking echoed throughout the empty building that is DPD.

Connor had offered to stay overnight working on the AC case and so far, nothing was adding up. He had spent time trying to find out what were the hard facts based off of the cases that DPD has dealt with.

There were a few facts to take in:

- The eatings were seemingly random for now - Only goes after deviants in more concealed areas - Attacks during the night or at times with less light out - Aggressive and can attack multiples at once -Agility/speed are its highly noteable skills

Connor was able to create these major clues from researching back in the few cases he's come across, taking it in and attempting to find a connection.

It wouldn't make sense that this cannibalistic android suddenly came up from no where unless it was to gain control, most likely for public opinion. Then again, why only do it in places that are closed off to the public eye? Who was the exact target for this all? Is there someone in charge of the creature? Could this have been a final act done by CyberLife? But if it is, why would the company who created androids do this to their own reputation?

What was the reason???

The RK800's LED circled a yellow hue, letting out his synthetic breath and rubbing his temples. Never has an investigation caused this much stress onto Connor before and never has it been this difficult to solve.

He was suppose to be efficient, but instead he's only gotten gradual progress, which irritated the hell out of his systems.

Connor checked his readings to find that time flew past quickly and that the clock was nearing midnight with nothing new to be found. He ruffled up his hair, deciding that this wasn't worth going into further without a much needed break time.

Turning off his screen, Connor pushed back his chair and stared at the ceiling, thoughts empty and forcefully quiet.

A break was what Connor desperately needed, having his work hours being consumed by the chain of events as well as his personal time taken away from his own compulsion. It only a few seconds of blankly staring before Connor's eyes felt insanely droopy.

Too much has been going on to enter stasis anyway.

...

...

...

When Connor opened his eyes again, he was met with a familiar sight. The Zen Garden.

He hasn't been in this mind-place for a while after he successfully scrubbed off any codes with traces of Amanda's and CyberLife's programmings in it. With no other sources of 'life', it felt empty, but Connor would take the emptiness with complete control.

The Zen Garden was no longer maintained well, the grass overrunning the pathways, vines covering up the pillars of the lake island, even the emergency exit bolder was starting to get some moss around the bottom edges.

Connor strides along the pathway around the lake, the sensation of stress slowly leaving him to be at ease managed to lower his stress levels. Though, his thoughts and questions still lingered on.

What Markus confessed to Connor about an LED, he was dead set on his Zlatko hypothesis. DPD were able to find some of the escaped experiments after searching around and getting witnesses or people involved with Zlatko to start talking. Many were sent to New Jericho to be rehabilitated and cared for but few were out there in mystery.

Connor couldn't get any communication with those tortured deviants as they're not officially checked off for more social interactions besides the volunteers and professionals(best of the best) that can handle the intensity.

Connor hates how frustrating this all was.

If only there would be more solid evidence to analyze from, a voice recording, a picture, or hell, an android's memory of the damn thing

...

Wait...

Josh survived...

And Markus was there when Josh was attacked...

...

"WHY HAVEN'T I THOUGHT OF THIS SOONER?"

Connor exclaims loudly to himself, his voice echoing in the zen garden. With no excess time spared, he jolted himself out of the zen garden and prepared for departure.

Connor was going to make a visit to Josh and possibly extract his memories of the incident.

If that doesn't work, his other choice would be going to Markus for the framed second of memory of watching the creature almost eat his friend

This'll definitely be easy to do

Prev - Next

[mysadblacksoul]

Hi, so Next Semester, ey?

God this song hits so close to my heart. Not just as a uni student, but also as a young adult who is trying to navigate her life in any logical way So thank you for that guys Then the theories (because why the hell would they make a MV without lore, am I right folks?) MV!

Overall red tones: drumsticks, logo, stage as well as the Blurryface paint brings us back to the Blurryface era for sure

Like it's a callback to the past, do you see my vision?

Could it be a fist show that they did after fully escaping Dema and doing it on their own terms? Maybe

But some scenes give me dream like sequence. Like Tyler is just imagining how the life would be if he succeded to escape

The going back and forth on the road is a callback to the times when he tried to escape, with little to no luck

People are not only there in person, but they also are moved by the music and know the words. So for sure it's different audience that they had in Dema

The ukulele makes me think that we travelled even more back in time. Honestly, it feels like a callback to the RAB era

It also gives me parallel to the Car Radio MV, just way calmer this time

Now this gives heavydirtysoul

But did you notice that the thing (car? person?) was going full speed on Tyler and he was the one who got out the way every time, yet it just circled around Josh (just like in HDS)

The middle of the road also gives me Truce vibes

So with the lyrics, the whole MV gives me the vibe of being closer and closer to the true freedom

Lyrics!

No-no-no, no-no-no - disapproval of the current situation, pretty easy

Stand up straight now / Can't break down - I would say this are pretty self explanatory feelings of Mr Clancy in Dema. He simply cannot break down, or he would let down not only himself but also the people who he leads

Graduate now - It doesn't need to be literal, it could mean to finish something quickly

It's a taste test / Of what I hate less - The feeling of having to choose the lesser evil. That no matter what you gonna choose it's still gonna be bad

Can you die of anxiousness?/ I don't wanna be here, I don't wanna be here / What's about to happen? What's about to happen? - Valid question tbh. All of it are the feelings of intense anxiety and a desire to escape from the current situation. There is a sense of fear and uncertainty about the future

I remember certain things / What I was wearing - Vivid memories about the certain time and place. Like every escape attempt is important

The yellow dashes in the street - Could be both the lines on the road, but also the yellow Bandito tape. And could the number of the dashes be 300? Like in Overcompensate?

I prayed those lights would take me home - That this one, this attempt will be the the last one. Plus the torches used by Banditos, like a symbol of hope

Then I heard, "Hey, kid, get out of the road!" - Solid reality check

Can't feel my legs / I might suffocate / There's a pressure in my chest - More feeling of nervousness and uncertainty. Everything Clancy feels while running

And then he slowed down / And rolled down his window - So now we know that the speeding thing was a car, but who the hell was driving it

Can't change what you've done - You can't redo the attempts of escaping, but you can always learn from them. It's a reminder not to look back and always look forward to the next, better things

Start fresh next semester - It doesn't have to be literal semester, could be year, day, month. Just gain back your strenght, calm down and try again. Yesterday may have been lost, but what matters is that you don't give up and keep going. You're still fighting

[lifeofalegacy]

Life of a Legacy Chapter 5

It was barely dawn when Doc decided to open up the Perimeter for the day, sky a deep blood red. The creaking of metal and wires echoed throughout the empty halls of his skyscraper as he made his way towards the testing lab. His augments, while useful to help him move, weren’t the most friendly to see or work with. So, he found it best to get there earlier, allowing his joints to warm up before all their employees showed up and had to hear it. 

Flipping on the lights as he went, Doc was paying much closer attention to the coffee in his hand rather than his surroundings. Why should he pay attention at all? The building was secured, no alarm blaring, and as far as he knew, he had been the last one out last night. 

His hand ran into a switch that was already flipped up. 

Raising an eyebrow, Doc slowly took in his surroundings. Yes, the light was on, and while that may have been uncommon, it wasn’t completely unusual. People forgot to turn off lights all the time, and he was no different than a common man. Mentally. 

What wasn’t usual however, was the trail of lights that led away from his exact spot in front of a side entrance door. Oh.

Doc still didn’t panic, nor call for security, or even make any move that he was surprised. The Perimeter’s alarm system was painstakingly crafted over the years by himself and his most trusted programmers. All doors are alarmed with a key sensor and facial recognition. Each sensor was made and remade to perfection so his life’s work would be safe behind these doors. So whoever was in this building right now was someone who he trusted. 

And he knew exactly who it would be.

Continuing down the trail of lights, his movements became smoother, softer as the warmth of the building seeped into the cold metal, allowing him to finally find comfort this day. The coffee also helped shake off any lingering feelings of drowsiness. It was decaf, of course. 

Finally, he pushed open the doors to a private computer lab, dozens of screens open and running code that even he couldn’t understand sometimes. There, at the middle table, haloed in a warm yellow desk lamp, was his longtime business partner and friend. 

“Ren.” His low, rumbling voice shook the air, yet the man in front of him did not move. With a sigh, he walked up to the other and went to place his human hand on the other, but paused. Did he really have to pause? Instead, he raised his metal arm to the other, shaking him. “Ren.”

The decision turned out to be the right one, as Ren’s ears immediately flattened against his head, and he lunged. It was an almost impossible speed that the dog hybrid moved at, Doc barely managing to grab his friend’s shirt collar before his teeth could make contact with any skin. Unfortunately for his metal arm, it instead became the focus of sharp claws and teeth, ripping at any purchase. 

“Calm down!” Doc threw the other back into the chair in one rough motion as he felt Ren come dangerously close to severing one of the wires. “It’s just me!” 

The two stared at each other, Ren’s lips curled up into a snarl. That fog Doc had grown to hate coated his eyes like cataracts, blinding the other from the world. After a tense minute, and as the sun began to properly stream in through the computer lab’s window, the haze faded from Ren’s eyes, and they properly focused on the other. 

Doc raised an eyebrow.

“Shit man, you caught me off guard.” Ren muttered, and he tore his eyes away in a mess of guilt and embarrassment. “Sorry.” 

There it was. Those… feelings that Doc hated having to deal with every month, especially at 5:30 in the morning. He held up at hand. “Don’t Ren. You have nothing to be sorry about.” 

“I nearly ripped your arm off.”

“Eh, part of the hazards of the job.” Doc responded, turning his attention over towards the screens. He was wrong. Some of them were running the familiar jumble of code he’d come to expect, but others were showing maps of the city covered in bright dots. “...What are you doing?” 

Ren’s ear’s fluffed, and Doc saw his tail curl further into the chair. “Apparently Xelqua was spotted two nights ago, and I was compiling all the information people were posting about her. It wasn’t a lot,” Ren turned and clicked into one of the screens, showing the picture of a pink blur flying across the skyline. “She wasn’t out for long, and didn’t stop any crimes.” 

“And you were here…” There was a question Doc was trying to get out without explicitly asking, wanting to give Ren the chance to put the answer out there first. 

The screen in front of the dog hybrid clicked back to the map, and silence permeated. Instead, Ren chose to click at the keyboard in front of him, shifting a few of the points on the map. 

Doc wasn’t going to break first, and Ren knew it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be stubborn about it. It wasn’t as if he wanted to talk about his feelings this early either. 

But finally, his ears pinned back and he flipped the chair to face the Creeper Hybrid. “I wanted to get some work done, and I wasn’t here yesterday, in the day.” 

“Ren…” “And I know you’re going to say that it’s fine and no one minds if I come in to do my work, because I’m in charge and any issues people have with me they can take up with you. But that’s not truly how any of this works!” Trying to calm the situation, Doc reached out, and placed his metal hand against the other’s arm. “People are uncomfortable working with me Doc.” 

“Who?” 

A beat. “I don’t know! Who isn’t?” Ren exclaimed, and his eyes trailed over to Doc’s metal arm before he forcefully pushed him off. “And it makes sense that they don’t trust me, but–” 

A lump seemed to be stuck in Ren’s throat, and Doc’s own heart stuttered. 

“It hurts, you know?” He turned away again. “And it hurts my ability to work. I know you told me that we need more actual data on her before we can figure out what’s actually happening, but I also know that answer is full of shit. If this,” He gestured to the screen. “Isn’t Xelqua, then you know we are fucked.” 

Ren was right. That wasn’t usually something Doc found a hard time admitting, it was just annoying that he was right and pushing this particular issue. It had been what, a week since the town hall fire? And no one had seen the ghost hero since. 

Had it been a foolish hope they would never see her again? 

“And if it’s not her, and it is who we think it is. Then we’re to blame.” Ren said solemnly. 

That was a scary thought. All the work Doc had done, just to be the creator of something horrible. Sure, maybe this new hero was doing good, but really, at what cost? And for how long?

His chest gave a strange stutter that caused his damaged arm to twitch, sparks shooting out of the damaged wire. Dealing with Ren was one thing, he was used to that. But now the past was banging on the door, and if he didn’t answer it…

That was another thing he didn’t like to think of. 

“Your heart acting up?” Ren asked solemnly, stood from his chair, and worked to get under Doc’s arm to support him. Even if the other was massive, Ren was still muscular due to his unfortunate genetics, only straining a bit to lift and move the other into his chair. 

Doc’s gears grinded as he lowered slowly, trying to catch his breath and ignore the sharp pain in his chest. His normal heartbeat had stuttered into a ticking feeling, and the hissing wasn’t only coming from his pressurized joints. Forcing in air, he tried to be as still as possible, feeling his muscle and tension release as agonizing seconds ticked by. 

Finally, the drum in his chest returned. 

“I am good.” Doc hissed out. “Just, stress from everything happening.” 

“I know, I’m part of that dude,” Ren’s ears flattened against his head, and he looked away from the other. He shook his head. “Listen, it will be ok.” 

“Ren–” 

“We will figure this out. And after tonight, I will be fine for another month, meaning everything can go back to normal. But today, I am going to lock this office, and go home while you take it easy, and maybe schedule a doctor's appointment.” Looking between all of the screens, Ren only paused for a second before shutting down the display. He held out his hand for Doc. “Come on, everyone will be arriving soon, and we have an image to keep.” 

Doc hated that the other was right. It was one thing to pretend that nothing was wrong between the two of them, because they both knew that was bullshit. But it was something completely different to act like that in front of everyone else. Because in front of the public, it was necessary. 

Perimeter was powerful, respected, and had a hand in nearly every industry in the city. A rare success story about cursed hybrids, shared only with their competitors-turned-allies VexCo. Ren and Doc had built this company with their bare, inhuman hands while the world tried to tear them down. Doc was ridiculed and run from, while the city tried to lock Ren in the southern section at one point. And yes, all that mattered deeply to both of the hybrids. 

But if they wanted to stay on top, it couldn’t. Perimeter was the largest employer of hybrids in the city, sporting a colorful cast of every feature you could imagine. Without them, so many people would end up on the streets, or without access to doctors, or any of the benefits that were once provided freely before the reckoning. And to stay on top, you had to be strong. You couldn’t fit into the violent stereotype of a rabid dog that transformed with the moon once a month and was banned from most stores in the south city. You couldn’t be a creeper hybrid who narrowly escaped death once (no, of course the augments were just for aesthetics), only to deal with a ticking heart at the worst times. 

To stay on top, Doc and Ren had to be normal. 

Ren shut the computer lab door behind them, and pulled out his key ring, flipping through them to find the one that would lock away the gate to their horrible secret. 

“Why do you have the North Campus key on you?” Doc asked roughly. “That deal is almost done, and I thought we had to hand them into escrow.” 

Ren clicked the lock. “VexCo doesn't have it quite yet. I might go through there one more time alone before we close, just for old time’s sake.” He didn’t need to know. 

Somewhere at the front of the building, a door sensor sounded, and a friendly conversation of two coworkers each through the hall. The sun was up. 

“For old time’s sake.”

---

Grian clicked away on his computer, scaling up the size of the new possible logos for Mumbo’s project. He’d already rejected a few dozen, and these six had been redesigned at least 4 times each. But he was having trouble getting past that point. 

It wasn’t that they were awful, in fact it was the exact opposite! Their graphic design interns had done a fantastic job, and one of the submissions was even from an undergrad architecture intern. A feeling of pure pride welled up in Grian’s chest as his wings fluttered. 

That feeling graduated into prickles on the back of his neck, and the avian fondly rolled his eyes. 

“You’re not allowed to be peeking.” Grain spun in his chair to see Scar halfway in the door, trying to catch a glimpse. Quickly, he reached behind him and shut off his monitor. “You get to vote on the top four just like anyone else!” 

“Hey! What, a guy can’t just be visiting his dear friend? It always has to have some other motive with you.” Scar smirked and wheeled into Grian’s office. “But I mean, while I’m here…” 

“No.” Grian laughed. “Do you know how up in arms some people would be if they found out the CEO was swaying the design competition? Nevermind how much the interns are going to internalize it if they find out which one of them the ‘big boss’ likes best.”

“Fine, fine.” Scar turned back towards the door. “I guess I’ll just check it when you aren’t here…” 

“You’re impossible, you know that?” Grian rolled his eyes fondly, and his eyes wandered over to the wall clock. He stood. “Actually, I think it may be lunch time for me, if you would like to join.” 

Scar beamed. “Thank goodness! I would like that actually. Just got out of some sponsor meetings, and oh boy are they boring. I felt like I wanted to rip my jacket off just so there was something to do.”

“Scar, you’d rip your jacket off just for fun. Remember the ‘team bonding exercise’ incident?” Grian chided as the two headed for the elevators. He waved brightly over at Cub, who was balancing a very large stack of papers and could only give him a chill nod back.

“Hey, that accident wasn’t my fault! Is a man merely to blame for being so… hot?” The CEO struck a pose as the doors dinged. “I had no liability about the resulting pile up. Speaking of liabilities, where exactly is our mustached friend? I thought he would be with legal today working out who the building contractors are going to be.”

“Mumbo’s off… sourcing soil for the development? I think?” Grain half asked. “He said everything needs time to ferment before we put it in? Let the nutrients absorb? I don’t know, that man’s way of life is a mystery to me.” 

“Makes enough sense to me.” 

“That makes one of us.” 

It was a sunny day out, a few white clouds passing by without a care in the world overhead. Light bounced off the skyscrapers, illuminating the roads below. Down on the street, the corporate employees were taking their lunch breaks, hurrying from one place to another to find the best place to eat in the shortest amount of time possible. Just from where he stood, Grian could spot at least 10 different hybrids, from cat ears to tails to wings that looked just like his. It was in the quiet moments, these insignificant ones, that Grian could really see the city for what it was supposed to be. A nearby streetlight changed from red to green, and Scar nudged his friend to start walking down the street. 

Besides deciding on the food truck plaza a few blocks over for lunch, neither said much, just enjoying the company. These days most of their quality time was spent going over project logistics, or, unfortunately, comforting Grian due to his poor luck. So, it was nice to just stroll outside and not have to worry about anything. 

“Look, a cookie truck!” Scar exclaimed, grabbing onto Grian’s sweater. 

The truck’s body was purple, decorated in swirling stars and tree branch designs. Growing off of those branches were cartoon depictions of cookies. Chocolate chip, snickerdoodle, double chocolate chunk, sugar cookies. It was pretty busy too, with a long line of teenagers and corporate men alike all buzzing in line for one of them. 

“I think I read something about that, it’s a fancy brand that recently expanded. I think they’ve got some weird jungle berry flavors though…” Grian mentioned. “I think I’m going to get some real food before trying it, but if you want to go now…” 

Scar was still staring intensely at the truck with stars in his eyes. “I think I can wait. Did the article say how long they were going to be staying?” 

“A few months, I think?” Grian continued scanning the menu and spotted a few strange flavors like ‘sparkling melon’, and ‘Golden Apple surprise.’ Ok, maybe those weren’t the weirdest flavors in the world, but really? For cookies? ‘Pumpkin Pie Delight.’ “That’s just a different dessert.” 

Two girls walked past them carrying a large box of different flavors, one complaining about how she just didn’t like cake. 

“It’s for the charm of it, Grian. Besides, you would be pretty appreciative if you got a gift of cookies.” Lightly teasing him, Scar turned his chair towards another truck, and queued in line. 

Huh. “Yes, I would actually…” Grian’s mind turned to the conversation they had with their new associate a few days ago. And internally, he cringed. The full moon had been last night, with no messages from the dog hybrid. Hopefully that was a good sign. “You know, I ran into Ren the other day at the grocery store.” 

Scar was only half paying attention, instead inspecting the menu in front of him. “Really?” 

“He was preparing for the moon that happened last night. You know, I wasn’t sure I was going to be a fan when I first met him, but he actually seems pretty sweet and sincere. He was loading up on food to bring to his elderly neighbors.” Grian mentioned, knowing his friend wasn’t paying any attention. He rolled his eyes. “I think I might get some cookies from the truck and send them down to Perimeter. As a pick me up.”

“It would strengthen company relations…”

“Or, I can just give them to him in person. He invited the three of us to join him on a tour of the old Perimeter building we bought.” 

Scar jerked back, and his gaze narrowed in on Grian. “What?”

“That gets your attention?” Grian scoffed. “Doc’s not a fan of it, but Ren offered to show us around the place personally. Said he missed getting to show off his inventions to people, and thought we might appreciate seeing the place firsthand for design sake, before everything is gutted. I think that was quite generous of him.” 

“It really is…” Scar turned to face the truck again, lost in thought. Was it really that hard for him to choose a protein for his bowl? “Why don’t you go ahead and schedule that within the next few days? That… really is considerate of him.” 

“I definitely misjudged him.” Grian and Scar stepped up to the counter. 

After ordering, Scar wheeled over to the cookie truck to get them some sweets while Grian waited for their food order to be called. As convenient as the food truck plaza was, its location also meant it was one of the busiest areas in the city. Especially for lunch. But Grian thought it made up for the wait with incredible, and affordably priced, food. 

By the time Scar fought his way out of the cookie line, holding the bag like a kitten returning with its first prey, a few tables had opened up from the highschoolers needing to go to class. Wheeling into the picnic table Grian brushed aside some left over items, and the pair laid out their spoils. 

“You know,” Scar slurred through a mouthful of food. “I got the beef this time, and I really do think the chicken is better.” 

“Well, I wouldn’t really know that, would I?” Grian laughed. “I think the cooked rabbit is just fine.” 

Scar made a big deal of cringing. “Jeez! Sorry, I guess I forgot about that for a second. But wait a minute, I’ve seen your fridge, and you have like, a lot of eggs–” 

“Ethics were never my strong suit, personally.” Grian ripped into his lunch. 

“Eggthics.” 

The Avian dropped his fork into the bowl and just stared at the Vex. Scar didn’t break his face of glee as he continued to munch away at his tasty food. Grian knew that saying words in anger, rage even, never helped anyone, so he chose to instead make a big show about rolling his eyes before settling back in. 

Somewhere in the distance, storm clouds were rolling over the horizon, creeping inevitably closer to the city. A cool gust of wind blew through the plaza and caught on one of the newspapers that had been left on the table. It blew into Grian’s lap, and without thinking about it, he picked it right back up and set it between the two of them. 

It was only when Scar went strangely quiet that he decided to look at the headline. 

Xelqua Caught Moonlighting with City Hero! What does this mean for our future?

Grian had to stomp down an eye roll from slipping out. He was hardly moonlighting, and him and Hot Guy had barely even talked! Sure, was it impulsive and foolish to just go flying around for fun? Probably. But everyone was making a huge deal (it was a huge deal) out of nothing! (It’s not nothing.) There was no need to put him on the cover of the paper. 

“What do you think of them?” Scar asked, strangely quiet. He was pushing the food around in his bowl, not looking at Grian. 

That’s a hard question. “The heroes?” 

Scar nodded. 

“Well, I think Hot Guy’s been doing a smashing job overall keeping this city safe. I know it’s only been a few years, but this is the happiest I’ve seen a lot of people. Not to mention all the work he did with the Town Hall fire…”

“Did he really do a lot though? I think he just kind of stood there. That’s what I read at least.” Scar interrupted suddenly. 

Grian blinked. “I think… a lot of tabloids are a bit too harsh on him. He’s just one guy, it’s not like there’s this whole legion of people he’s leading. Besides, I talked to Jimmy and Gem, and they were super impressed with how he managed everything. Gem even told me that he saved her by knocking her onto one of the landing pads when the building collapsed with one of his arrows. And I’m not sure, but Jimmy told me she kept it and hung it on her wall. So yeah, I like the guy, but your tone of voice tells me you… don’t?” 

“No!” Scar exclaimed. “I like him a lot, he’s super cool. I just wish he could do more for the city. I’m really glad to hear he saved one of Jimmy’s friends, and that you like him so much, but… He’s just not, her?” He pointed to the pink blur on the front of the paper. 

It was a stupid photo. Grian had thought the building he chose to rest on was out of view from any prying eyes, but apparently the city never sleeps. Someone had gotten a super grainy zoomed-in photo of him and Hot Guy on the building. Combined with the reports of a pink avian soaring through the skies, that had been enough for the tabloids to concoct whatever BS they wanted to. 

Grian was at a loss for words. He opened his mouth, desperate for anything to come out, but all that was there was just him gaping like a fish. How was he supposed to answer that? 

“She… hasn’t been here.” It was a painful truth that Grian hated thinking about even on the best of days. Not to mention it was creeping towards the territory of his own future, something he had shoved in the box on his nightstand. He didn’t want to think about the fact he wasn’t hiding it from himself anymore. “Not to mention, she didn’t even stop any crimes that night. Sure, she helped out with the Town Hall fire, but I don’t know if she’s going to stick around. So yeah, Hot Guy isn’t her. But he’s been here.” 

“That’s not fair.” It really wasn’t. “I’m sure there’s a reason she left.” 

If Grian thought about this any longer, he might start crying. “Since when did you become part of the Xelqua fan club? I thought you avoided real superheroes.” 

It was Scar’s turn to be at a loss for words, face visibly flicking through anything he could say. “I… Cub, told me to look into her a while ago. I just put it off because I didn’t think she would be that interesting. But after she reappeared… I guess I just fell in with the new trend. I think she’s good for the city.” 

 Grian could barely be good for himself. “Well, I think that Hot Guy is what this city needs. He’s been doing a banging good job, so why add in a new person to complicate things?” 

“No! Think about it Gri, Xelqua could be his air cover. He’s always had problems with actually finding problems to solve. Not to mention, his ability to take on multiple enemies is pure chance at best. With two of them, they’d have the avantage.” Scar’s voice took on a tone of joy, as if when he spoke his own words inspired him. He’d been reading too many comic books. But, Grian felt the pull of that motivation too. “Zero casualties, Grian. From one of the worst disasters this city has seen. Hot Guy could never do that alone.” 

“Xelqua also could never do that alone. Don’t glorify one over the other.” It was a warning, but one that Grian had no real weight behind. 

Scar sat back, and opened up the bag of cookies. He handed the man across from him, one of his best friends in the world, a flavor he thought he might like. “Well, I think they’re exactly what this city needs.” 

---

The clouds rolled in that night, and a gentle shower quickly turned into a violent downpour that flooded the streets of the city. Above, sat on the edge of a building, was the city’s protector, dressed in a fancy plastic poncho. 

“Cub, I’ve been watching the footage of her from those days again and again. Not to mention, I met her this time! Either way, I am telling you that they are not the same. This Xelqua seems less experienced, I saw how they fell.” He kicked his feet against the skyscraper as if to add emphasis. 

“I don’t know Scar, they look identical. Not to mention, if she’s really a new person, we’d be able to track her down. Avian wing patterns don’t just repeat like that, especially not when she’s literally hot pink. It’s a good theory, but there’s no evidence, really.” Cub huffed. “But back to the point before, you said that Grian met up with Ren–” 

“They ran into each other at the store. Somehow it ended with Ren offering Grian, Mumbo, and I a personal tour of their old facility.” Scar explained, scanning the horizon. No one was out tonight, meaning it was mostly just a boring patrol to make people feel safe. He wished he could do more. 

Cub let out a short, bitter laugh on the other line. “After years of working against them, is it that easy? If somehow Ren makes good on his promise, and you get into that building, it’s going to blow a hole into the case we’re making against them. I don’t know Scar, it feels too easy to me.” 

“I know. It really has all the makings of a trap. But there’s no way that they know who I am, and Grian seemed to think Ren was pretty cool. Out of the two CEOs of Perimeter, he is the chiller one historically. Not to mention, scientists love to brag about their accomplishments, you’d know, and he said that he just wanted to show off some of his old tech before it gets demoed by our team.” Plucking an arrow, Scar shook it until it started glowing. 

“You really don’t think there’s any ulterior motive here?” 

“If there is, then it doesn’t have to do with me.” Was it a pessimistic view? Yes. But these men were some of the shadiest dealers in town. Could they have figured out he was dressing up at night as a superhero, sure. But what motive would Doc and Ren have for that? And to make a confrontation like that public in front of two civilians, Scar was feeling confident in his convictions. Besides, what interest would Ren really have in Mumbo or Grian? 

“Alright. But I’m going to mic you, and I’m installing a hidden camera in your chair.” Cub muttered, adding in how he ‘didn’t feel right.’ Really, he just droned on.

That boredom and childlike scolding pulled Scar up to his feet, letting him scan his surroundings a bit more thoroughly. 

He would forever be glad and regret that he did. 

For on the horizon, a faint orange glow burned against the clouds, dark smoke mixing with the night sky. A faint bang shook the air.

“Hey, Cub? There’s a fire.” Scar was moving pretty quickly, bounding over the gaps between the buildings as best as he could, feeling the nanoids dig further into his bones and muscles as he did so. “It’s on the east end–”

“Again?” The clicking of a keyboard came through clearly. “Oh my gods. It’s one of the printing presses. On Eden street. Fire department is on route, but residents are now calling in with possible explosions. It’s unclear how it’s started, but it’s…” Scar could hear the frown in Cub’s voice. “It’s similar to the Town Hall fire.” 

The hero redoubled his efforts, pushing forwards to get across the city in the pouring rain. You’d think that such an awful downpour would nip any embers in the bud, but not with tonnes of newsprint as it’s kindling. Especially not if explosives were in the mix. 

Somehow, Scar made it before the trucks did, scanning the area for any needed evacuation routes. Luckily, it appeared that the converted apartments in the area were far enough to avoid catching, and with the pure manpower needed for this job, Scar didn’t want civilians out in the streets. 

The bottom wall of the building crumbled beneath the fire, and Scar froze as he spotted movement in between the flames. Someone was in there. 

“I think someone is in there!” Scar exclaimed, hurrying towards the burning building. 

Over the earpiece Cub was yelling at him to not approach, but Scar couldn’t let anyone burn. He shed the plastic lining as the heat began to lap at him, fire reaching out to someone just beyond their grasp. The figure was obscured by the heat, Scar needing to squint against light.

“Hey! It’s ok! I’m coming to get you! Just try and stay calm and come towards me if you can.” He had no clue if his voice was carrying over the crunch of the fire, but he had to try. Hurrying around to find an entrance point, he tried his best to make out who they were, and his heart sunk. 

They were standing in the flames. The fire seemed to have no effect on them as they took a heavy, slow turn to face Scar. He thought they just looked silhouetted from the fire, but there was a strange swish to their walk as a long, dark cape billowed around them. A large hood covered their face, but Scar could swear there was a single reflection of light staring back at him.

In that same monotonous, agonizing, creeching way they moved before, the figure raised their hands and shrugged the cloak off. 

Scar could barely hold back a yelp of terror. 

“What the hell is that.” 

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5

[drunktayloratthevmas]

Im llike so bored so I will just Talks bout how much I love certain Movies

1.- Whiplash

That movie... THAT MOVIE WAS LIFE CHANGING when I saw it like two years ago I love it SM, I love Movies when they have Long scenes like following a characther through halls or idk in a high point of view camera, also the colors and how the black and green or yellow or blue or even red All go together so well, also melissa benoist she looked so cute, and the soundtrack OH MY GODDDD I love jazz music and that like I LOVEEEEE THAT SHIT, anddd I love every single scene music was involved, and the final scene that was like 10 minutes or more that was my jammmm I ate it up, the outfits were there like.. There you get it? It was simple But it goes so well with the movie, and i love explaining why I love this movie to film bros who tell me I probably like a marvel movie (I hate superheroes Movies expect for Batman and Spiderman) and like they get 🕴️

2.- Saltburn

People say it was traumatising idk cause I have to get spoilers or else I am not gonna watch a movie like I wanna watch a good movie not a bad one Babe, and the grave, blood or bathtub scene was not disturbing it was normal a little meh, but the lightning in the movie was amazing, like a great example would be some of Jacob elordi's scenes when the light and the camera positivo makes him look like a worship or something wow cause Oliver looked at him like that, or the house tour that looked like a vogue video when its a pov of Oliver and that why its only focused on him, the outfits Are Sooo good, like they HAVE THE Money and they used it cause the pieces looked fancy and something people on the 2000s would use and people forget that it was set on the 2000s, the movie was not slow or fast it go a normal speed like... Some scenes could be deleted But its fun at least for me seeing scenes that Are like super random, the soundtrack was good like.. Yeah I liked it a lot, the Metaphors where really good like the angel wings or the doopleganger thing and the wine on Venecia 's glass and the way she died or the rocks REALLLYYYY GOOD

3.- The virgin suicides

My favorite movie of all times and i am not mad about the movie being from the male gaze cause it shows how little they cares about them or how they only showed thing that it matter for the Boys even when the girls were literally killing themselfes, the outfits were really cute and it shows HOE each one of the lisbon sisters Are, the prom Dresses were almost the same But they were different on the sleeves and flowers, the uniforms were also different one messy other complete other simple the other even more messy, the way they dressed at home or the colors they would were more, the Cinematography I feel it was pretty and simple like the movie But they show you the movie like a fantasy and them always smiling or smirking or just the way guys probably looked at the But the scenes were usually lux was sad she was like in a realll depression moment, I love Sofía sm I love her Movies <3

I got more bored so I will do this again probably in like a couple hours when I get bored again But not too much to stress myself

[weirdanecdotes]

On Being Psychic – Part 1

I don’t know if I am an evolutionary mutant or a recessive throwback. For the first twenty-five years of my life, I wrestled with knowing too much and wanting to be rid of my “special gift.”

As a small child, I didn’t know I was psychic; I just was. I knew/felt/saw/received information and had no reference, no way of knowing that everyone didn’t perceive the world the way I did. Information popped into my mind and jumped out of my mouth before I even noticed. My days were peppered with news bulletins from the Aether and I delivered them thoughtlessly.

I’d ask Mama things like, “Why does that person have a yellow cloud?” And, “What are those pretty ribbons in the sky?” Or tell her, “Don’t make plans with Alice. Dot will call later to invite you to a party.”

Going to Sear’s one day when I was about two years ago, I told her, “The road is blocked. Take another way.”

“Now why would you say a thing like that?” My mother dismissed my warning until we were stopped by the backup of traffic and saw an ambulance pass by.

“Too late,” I said to the ambulance, “They’re gone.” Mama shivered in response.

When she started taking me to nursery school, the route she took included a rickety humpbacked bridge over railroad tracks. I hated the school and getting me to go was a workday chore. I cried and begged, “Please don’t take me there.” Then as she drove us toward the railroad bridge, I started screaming, “No! Don’t go that way!”

Probably she had conveniently forgotten about my being right about another road being blocked or maybe she remembered because she shouted at me, “Shut up! Stop it now!”

I shut myself up until only whimpers escaped my mouth as I anticipated what was going to happen. On the other side of the bridge, the roadway widened to two lanes to allow a left turn lane, went steeply downhill and got stopped by a traffic light. We usually had to sit thru a couple of lights before it was our turn to get thru.

That morning, there must have been extra traffic because we ended up stopped on the top of the hump. And a train with a very long load came barreling under it at high speed. In my memory, the noise was unbearable but much worse, the bridge shook and creaked like it was going to collapse. I couldn’t help myself and started screaming in terror. Mama screamed right along with me and pulled me across the front seat to hug me close to her. Then we both cried and clung to each other until the damned trained passed and the world returned to “normal”.

She had tissues in her purse and wiped both our faces while she promised me, “I will find us another way to your school. We will never—never come this way again.” And when she picked me up that day, we took a different route home.

There was absolutely nothing in her background that prepared Mama for dealing with me. She was raised in a strict Southern Baptist family in Charleston, South Carolina, got a high school education, and took a course to be certified in Accounting. She didn’t enjoy reading and had not significantly expanded her mental boundaries or even tested her intellect since leaving school. How she withheld judgment over my little prognostications for so long is a mystery to me. I think she probably coped through an automatic denial mechanism. I’ve known her to do this with other, more serious, situations that were unpleasant to her. So it can be presumed she simply forgot things she couldn’t understand as soon as they occurred. Quite a few people do this as a way of life. But, we never crossed that bridge again.

My parents made no secret of the fact that I had been adopted. I can’t remember ever not knowing that “your real mother could not keep you and she knew that you would be better off with a Mama and Papa like us who would love you and take care of you.”

Papa bought a two-volume book set titled The Adopted Child—one for the parents and one to be read to the child. Reading the book for me, he asked, “What would you rather do in a candy store? Close you eyes and grab whatever you could reach? Or look around and pick out the candy you wanted?”

“Pick! Pick!” Even simpleton toddlers make this choice but I didn’t. I looked at both of them anxiously and Mama volunteered the answer, “We picked you.”

Now whatever psychologist wrote this framing of the situation overlooked the implications. I heard quite clearly that my “real mother” had put me up for sale in a candy store because she didn’t love me. I could imagine myself like a baby doll in a box displayed on a shelf until my parents came and “picked” me.

Even the constant reassurances that I was “special” only made me feel awfully different in some indefinably bad way. Much later in life when I would take my children away from my brawling parents’ house, I would assure them, “Remember, you’re not related to those people.” I always knew that but I didn’t realize it mattered as much as it did. Psychic abilities often skip a generation and my life would have been better if I’d had a grandmother or an aunt who understood what was happening to me.

[kyberphilosopher]

Scorpion Headcanons

Headcanons for Hanzo Hasashi… the Scorpion. The first bridge expanding the Kyberverse to Mortal Kombat.

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

* ✭ ˚ ･ﾟ ✧ *･ﾟ * ✭˚･ﾟ ✧* ･  *

The most dedicated guy like… ever. He’s committed in almost everything. Adaptable, yes, but committed. He dates to marry, he is loyal after death. For fucks sake look at how long this man was vengeful for.

In kyberverse, scorpion’s face does not look how he does officially unmasked. It doesn’t really match up to me. So, this scorpion has thin eyebrows, sharp and angular features, a clean shaven face and jaw, and white and upturned eyes. He has a different nose shape and thin lips, he looks younger. His waterline and lashes are dark and thick. He is tanned from the heat but pale from death. He is striking.

Doesn’t understand modern slang, but he can infer in his head. Just not preferred.

Uses his weapons in more scorpion-esque ways. Not just throwing it. It’s an art form, a mastery. He physically moves, crawls, stings like a scorpion.

Might occasionally use temperature play during no pants time. Might be on accident, might not be.

Speaking of, scorpion sometimes sets things aflame when his emotions get too heated. Not to say he’s an emotional person. Well, he is, but overall he’s a thinker.

Hates hates Hates being told what to do. I feel like that’s obvious, but it runs deep for him. Suggestions are usually swept under the rug, if he can even keep his cool. Helpful or not.

Will always have some doubts about sun-zero. I even prefer when they’re not friends.

Hates eating cold foods.

Speaking of, he will occasionally eat the same prey a scorpion would. He will just randomly catch them in his fingers at the speed of light.

Also finds Frost more annoying than sub zero. Yikes.

Scorpion does kinda respect Nightwolf though. They just don’t see eye to eye.

If you want to flirt with Scorpion, you’ll be going at it a while. He might not realize it. If he does, he won’t be responding. The whole losing a family thing kinda puts a damper on that sort of thing. But if he’s in a relationship, he’ll want to be married immediately. He takes them serious right away.

Unlabeled in terms of sexuality. He likes who he likes, and he doesn’t think much about it. As long as he gets to be him.

Tiny flames will occasionally dance off his golden skin, if you pay attention close enough. 

As you can tell, I really prefer angry and vengeful Scorpion over wise old scorpion.

When he has a golden glow like fire, it sometimes looks like flaming tattoos in the right lighting.

Probably married his first wife young. Like ages 17-21. Real committed guy.

If his kid wanted to dye their hair, he would absolutely REFUSE to accept it. He’d keep saying no over and over again when asked for permission. Grumbling and griping.

Probably also gets upset when he sees people on his property, especially teenagers. He’s the original “GET OVER HERE! Get off my lawn!” guy.

Ironically a rather good figure skater.

Well regularly set himself on fire to show off his skeleton to scare people who piss him off. Happens frequently actually.

While yellow and gold I’d say are his colors, he looks absolutely stunning in red. I mean I’ve seen skins where he’s wearing red and it’s just like holy shit. Why aren’t you wearing this? Also looks godly in white.

Idk what the fuck kinda ooc scorpion y’all got going on in your heads but this man is not falling for the reader in one night. Scorpion takes time.

Don’t even think about addressing him as Hanzo if you’re not close to him. That’s a one way ticket to having your face burned off.

Ever since he came back to life, he’s been flexible. Like an acrobat. It helps with looking very scorpion like, but it’s freaky. He can bend his body back into the most intense arch you’ve ever seen and spin around. His bones will crack- it’ll look and sound like a horror movie. But he can do it.

His style of martial arts focuses more on his kicking then punching and throwing. He’s deadly on his feet.

Favorite color is probably white.

Can’t really picture him enjoying Italian food. Maybe some bread.

*These headcanons can be expanded on and added to over time. Headcanons can be left in comments to be added to the list. These headcanons will be used in kyber’s fanfictions for this character. All headcanons can be used to inspire a fanfiction request. All headcanons discussed in comments must be discussed politely and are welcomed. Return frequently for new headcanons. 

Edit: All Mortal Kombat headcanons WILL be expanded upon.

[sukirichi]

— falling out of love with gojo satoru

warnings: angst, mentions of sexual content, cursing

masterlist !

when you fell in love with gojo satoru, your heart exploded like a firework.

you still remember that moment very vividly at the back of your head. it was new year’s, and you two were drunk on both liquor and the feeling of having the other by your side. it was a tough year – as the norm was for jujutsu sorcerers – but you both made it out alive.

alive couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt that day.

satoru has always been the person who stuck by your side through thick and thin like how you were the one who always went against the higher-ups when they tried to limit his capabilities. you should’ve known then, that the higher ups were just the beginning. that when once you thought their oppression for satoru’s plans were nothing but microscopical compared to the barrier his family had placed between the both of you.

they didn’t like you.

he was a gojo, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, while you were...well, you.

you weren’t really anyone special or better than anyone. your technique was decent and had a lot more drawbacks than advantages that you had to improve your physical abilities instead to not be deemed a total useless tool.

satoru never saw you that way. to him, he admired you almost as equally as he cherished his best friend, suguru, so much so that the three of you become the best of friends in the blink of an eye. the more time you spent together, whether alone or with others, it felt like your world just hyper focused or snapped into tunnel vision, zeroing on no one else but the white-haired man whose smile was brighter than any other in the sky.

when he told you he loved you, you couldn’t distinguish which ones were the exploding new year fireworks or the drumming of your heart. you stared up at him then, lips falling open as you released a tiny breath of air, and satoru laughed. he actually laughed.

you wanted to tease him, to punch him even though you couldn’t really ever touch him just to get over the fact he had you losing your composure with eyes glossing over. “well,” he taunted then, one shoulder lifting up lazily. “aren’t you gonna say anything? if you feel the same way, now’s the best time to tell me. we can end the year as friends and start another one as-”

satoru never got to finish his sentence. you had jumped into his arms faster than the speed of light, hands yanking down his yukata to pull him towards you, your lips slamming on his almost greedily.

he didn’t mind. he never did.

for once, it felt as if his infinity never existed. you had both spent the night tangled under the sheets, your name rasped from his lips like a prayer. the way you kneeled for him just moments later with your eyes fervently closed made him feel like he’s the one being worshipped instead, and in a way, it was. you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt the day after when he never gave you a break and kept you pulled closer to him.

you loved him – way too much that you no longer cared how much it would hurt if ever the time came that you no longer felt the same.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly. your shared apartment would still be filled with his annoying mannerism of dragging his feet over the floor as he walked, always groaning and complaining that he was hungry but never really bothered to cook anything for himself.

it felt a lot like living with a child where you were his mother, but in that sense, satoru hated it whenever you worried for him.

“you’re not my mother, stop telling me what to do!”

“stop being so arrogant, satoru!” you pointed to the barely conscious child in his arms, the first year student still barely breathing because satoru had gone out of his way again and brought yuuji while he fought a special grade curse. “you may be strong, but not everyone around you is capable of handling what you can! stop dragging people into your mess and start using your goddamn brain for once!”

“you don’t know anything, so shut the hell up.”

you scoffed, hands placed on your hip while you blinked back the angry tears that threatened to fell. you worried for yuuji, you really did, but in reality, you just couldn’t handle seeing gojo pushing himself to his limits and coming back home more wounded than the night before.

“i’m just worried for you, satoru. i don’t want you getting hurt.”

“i’m the strongest,” was all he said – was what he always kept saying. “i’m not going to get hurt.”

“you may not,” you reply stiffly, “but what about me? don’t you think about me? don’t you think about how much it hurts me to see you this way?”

you told yourself you hated him. you hated how arrogant he got. it was good he was confident of his abilities and prided himself of such an honourable title, but satoru was human. he was bound to fall at some point.

eventually, you got too tired.

it was too tiring to keep waiting for him to come home unscathed. you were assigned different missions all the time. satoru would always be working overseas while you mostly helped train the kids and exorcised curses from time to time; no missions that were as dangerous as his.

in the dead of the night, when you were turned away from him in your bed that had already gotten so cold from his usual absence, satoru would slip beside you as silently as he could. the morning afterwards would always be the same: good morning, did you sleep well? he knew the answer. he knew you never slept well without him, but he’d ask just to be nice, and it wouldn’t take too long before you’re both late to work because he missed you too much from being away all the time that he wanted to feel you clamp around him one more time.

it was tiring. too tiring.

that heavy weight never left your shoulders. you cried yourself to sleep far too much that you’d lost count – until you reached a point you just felt nothing. the bed no longer felt cold – just empty. his side always remained untouched, his chair in the dining table barely used, and you’ve gotten so used of washing only your plate and utensils that you wondered if satoru had ever been there.

you wondered if it was a coping mechanism; that maybe you could just no longer handle the pain of having to worry about him every damn night and he’d never care enough to at least be a little more careful, and this was why you just stopped missing him, which was why you just started enjoying the silence in your apartment a little bit more than you should.

but if it was a coping mechanism...why did you feel a lot freer and happier in his absence? instead of it feeling like you were supposed to be distracted, you felt awakened. alive.

alive in the same way he told you he loved you while the skies painted different hues of red, blue, green, and yellow in the darkness that bore witness to your souls connecting that night – the same sky that was now patiently watching as your souls split in half and formed itself whole all over again.

contrary to how you fell for him, you fell out of love with your best friend quietly.

there was no longer someone singing made up songs in the shower. there would no longer be that sound of an annoying loud kiss down the bride of your neck or the smacking of his palm on your ass when he wanted to piss you off.

you fell out of love him so silently that when he crawled next to you that night, you didn’t even hear him. and for the first time in a long time, you slept well the moment he left before the sun stretched its wings across the horizon. when you were greeted by nothing but your own pair of slippers outside your bedroom and not even a post it note to tell you he’d already left for work, a smile tugged on your face.

you made your breakfast in peace. satoru no longer dared to come back home if he was injured because he knew you wouldn’t care enough to fix him up.

although of course you would, but nothing ever beats in your heart for him anymore when you dab the disinfectant across his cut lips. satoru would catch your wrist then to tug you to him slowly, empty eyes staring back at his sky blue ones.

“thank you. for patching me up.”

“you’re welcome,” you’d smile, climbing off his lap while closing the first aid-kit. “go get changed. i’ll cook something up for you.”

it was a silent, empty routine. satoru would thank you for fixing him up because he was never every sorry for worrying you. he’d keep being reckless again and again until he reached a point you no longer cared for him enough to say goodbye to him with a kiss and the slow, tender promise of be safe – i’ll wait for you to come home.

you still kiss him – more out of habit than anything – but you’ve changed.

i’ll see you tonight.

it was empty, silent, completely different from the fireworks he’d ignited within you when he told you he loved you. satoru wasn’t dumb, and he didn’t need his six eyes to see that you’ve grown too comfortable over the large space between you and him between the sofa, almost as if him being away was what felt home for you.

he was never a confrontational man; he hated each waking moment that lead to this, but he had to do it. he needed to do it – to set you both free.

when the commercials started playing, satoru lowered the volume down, voice low and serious as he turned to you. you easily picked up on the sudden tension in the room – the first thing you’ve felt ever since you’ve fallen out of love with him – yet nothing changed. when satoru sighed, your heart didn’t ache.

“well,” he chuckled nervously as he leant back to his side, “things have changed, don’t you think?”

“yes.” there was no point denying it. you knew it – he felt it.

“what do we do now?”

you had no answer to his question. despite the fact you no longer looked at him the same way, not once had it crossed your mind to leave your apartment. not because you wanted to hold on as much as possible to whatever memories you shared under this roof, but simply because you didn’t know where else to go.

it wasn’t like it made a difference anyway. satoru barely came home, and when he did, he made his presence as scarce as possible that you could no longer tell what difference it would make if he was here or not.

“i don’t know,” you admitted, knees hugged to your chest. “what do you want to do?”

his answer came in the form of opened doors. you leant against the doorframe, watching as nanami and even yuuji came to help satoru move his stuff out of the apartment. he found a better place somewhere in the upstate, somewhere much closer to bars and clubs – which you know he thoroughly enjoyed it prior to meeting you – and your mind immediately went back to the time you and satoru first moved in.

it proved to be a difficult task. you both wanted to move in and finish unpacking as soon as possible, but satoru was too eager to christen each part and corner of the house that you both ended up making more mess.

nights spent tucked into each other because the heater was broken and you were both too tired to sleep anywhere except the uncomfortable mattress played like a broken record in your mind. satoru’s laughter echoed when nanami complained that he should stop spending money on souvenirs so he could’ve hired professionals to help him move out instead, your head snapping up at the source of that carefree, sweet laugher that always had butterflies erupting in your stomach.

as if feeling your gaze on him, satoru’s eyes flitted to where you stood. when he smiled, you could tell each genuine apology rang behind it – all the words he never got to say staying like a broken glass that kept cutting him over and over again.

he loved you. he still loves you.

and maybe, tucked away in the deepest parts of your heart that no longer felt fond of him the same way it did before, still held a little compassion enough for this man you once wanted to spend your life with.

you weren’t unkind. you didn’t need to love someone to know when to forgive them, but just for this moment, just for him, you could pretend to for one last time.

smiling up at him with your eyes crinkled and the last bits of adoration for everything about him gleamed through your lashes just before it slipped away into nothingness. it was enough. it was enough for satoru to know he’d been forgiven, and it was enough for him to finally set you free.

the next time you saw him at school, there were no longer fireworks.

your heart was at peace.

[notlycheesden]

Rearview Mirror

Heyyo ✌🏻 this is my first written piece for Endeavor , as a gift for my friend @kogo for the evil exchange. so I hope you like it my dude 👍🏻. A piece I will def be coming back to write more for sure.

⤍ Endeavour x reader

⤍ 3.6k

⤍ TW.incest, TW.dubcon, TW.father/daughter

⤍ Summary:

Enji was trying to be a better father, a better man.

And you never lied to him.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

Everything was always red between the both of you.

It's past four when his phone rings.

He was awake. even on his day off -those becoming more frequent now- years of routine were still strong. His body alert and aware way before the break of dawn for hours of training before patrol, and later to go to his own agency, the literal empire that wouldn't run itself.

He was pretending to be asleep, unmovable laying on his stomach, face buried on his pillow. Deep breaths in and out in a rhythmic pattern. His massive frame takes most of his king-size bed that for more than a decade he slept right in the middle, no reason to let the right side of it unoccupied.

It was almost meditation-like. There in the quiet and calm of his bedroom between his sheets, he could organize -or at least try- his thoughts. A time in his day where he gets lost in self-reflection. The things he would have to do that day, what work in his agency he would have to supervise, and even stubbornly he would do a little steaming out, analyzing his “actions and emotions”, passing commentary from the resident agency therapist threw his way.

“A strict but good man, if not for some, mishaps, from your intense and fiery nature.” was his professional opinion about Endeavor. The man really lived to throw things his way.

It used to help calm his turbulent mind. But lately there was nothing in his head but turmoil.

It was something he would do until 6 AM, when he couldn't take any longer and had to get up, body and muscles aching from staying in bed for too long, the sun already rising on the horizon, painting the sky with yellows, pinks, and reds.

The silence of his room is broken by the ring of his phone. Instead of the familiar tone of the morning alarm, it was his normal ringtone. When he opens his eyes, the room was not bright as he expects, still shrouded by darkness. Endeavor sits on his bed at once, alert.

Getting it from the bedside table quickly, his posture falls when he catches the time and the already saved contact of who was calling him: Natsuo.

Enji picks up, but before he could question the call, the time, or even say hello, Natsuo speaks, voice grave and serious.

“You need to pick up your daughter right now.”

It’s a punch to the gut. One that makes all the air from his lungs escape at once. In a second, he feels like he is thrown into a rollercoaster.

The only thing he can muster in his shock is a guttural and deep bark of incredulity “What?”

Natsuo cuts Enji off immediately. His tone triggering him into snapping, memories hushing in -not the time for this- “She just called. She was a crying mess, begged me to come for her but I live two hours away-Shouto is on patrol and not picking up and Fuyumi is with her fiance's family at the onsen-”

Enji inhales sharply. Dread takes hold of him while he can't even see straight with the sudden rush of adrenaline, sirens blasting off in his head.

“She was supposed to be with fuyumi at the onsen.” His voice echoes back at him in his bedroom walls, he doesn't realize he is shouting.

“Look, this is really not the time. She has no money and her phone’s dead. I was able to get her to tell me an address before the call dropped. she's all alone there. Are you gonna pick her up?”

Natsuo calms his own breaths now after snapping and shouting back, and he can hear shuffling noises on his father’s side of the line. The older man was up in a second, not really seeing anything, rushing through his stuff picking his keys and wallet. He hates the way his father could make him snap so easily.

Enji was completely distraught.“She said she was going to be with fuyumi…” He mutters under his breath while running through the corridors, even forgetting the phone by his ear, his son still on the line.

But Natsuo hates even more the blatant difference in the way his father treated all of them and you in comparison. Always. Like he could fix his mistakes. Hide his sins.

“Well. Think your little princess lied to you old man.”

Enji didn't even register the venom in his son's words, nor when he hangs up on him.

He’s out of the house in a blink. He tries not to rip the door out of its hinges on his way out.

——

He drives fast, almost no other car in the streets making it easier to speed up in his nervous state. The GPS voice droning about the directions, a forty-minute drive that he would make in twenty.

you said you were going to spend the weekend with your sister.

You lied to him.

Enji’s heart hammers in his chest and his flames burst multiple times on his face out of control. His grip on the wheel tightens to ground his shaking hands, his jaw set with such force that he could feel a headache already forming.

Thoughts were flying through his mind a mile a second. Where are you? What happened to you? Who were you with? Were you safe? Why were you crying?

Why did you lie to him?

It was like his heart was being squeezed by dread and being broken at the same time.

You were his youngest. After he realized what he did to his children as a father, he tried his best to do better; connect, communicate, but he was emotionally and socially stunted -Thanks doc.- and by the time he tried to reach out, it was just a little too late.

Fuyumi was the pillar of the household, replacing their mother too much young and having to fit in a mould not meant to be hers, barely holding the treads of the family and house together. Natsuo was out of the front door as soon as he finished high school and got into med school, choosing to live in the dorms and work part-time rather than stay at the manor. Shoto was another history in itself.

And there was you, a couple of years younger than your now up-in-the-ranks pro hero brother, at the time just a pipsqueak. Too young to remember Rei, remember the worst of Endeavor.

And when he tried to connect, you were there. As if just waiting. Wanting your father to look at you. Frail and innocent and just in want of care, of attention, of love. You welcomed him into your life with open arms and heart.

Enji did try to make it right by you. And for some time things were progressing, even his other children were starting to turn their heads around his direction.

Until Touya’s incident.

The media cracked down on him and his family with a vengeance, almost nothing was left unturned or whole.

Natsuo was the first to cut ties. Shouto threw himself into his hero work, completely closing himself off. Even Fuyumi decided that she was done, took the next step, and went to live with her now fiance, completely ignoring whatever Enji tried to shout about costumes or honor.

Then it was just the two of you.

He tried to be a good father.

He was a quiet man in his private life, strict and with a violent nature, but he reached out for outside help to make it right. An older and trustworthy housekeeper to not chain his daughter down at the manor, guidance from therapist to help him become a better father, a better man, anything to do right this time.

Call it atonement, call it his redemption, call it hypocrisy, he didn't care.

He only cares that at the end of the day, you were there at his side, happy.

This morning he saw the note on the fridge.

Going to onee-san family trip,

Be back on Sunday.

You never had lied to him before.

Guess it was a time for a lot of firsts.

——-

The music blasting through the night tipped him off even before his car's GPS tells him he arrived at the destined location.

He parks way down the street and assesses the place inside the darkness of his car.

Enji’s way out of the city now and inside the industrial district, the building seems old and falling to pieces, people are lingering all around the street, but it’s thicker there. At surface level the building was empty, but the music was definitely coming from there.

He dreads the worst.

Getting out of the car still in his sleeping sweatpants and tee, he throws the hood of his workout jacket over his hair to conceal himself. He’s going for discretion, get you and get out, no need to make this a public affair. Not with this, not with you, not right now.

He searches around but still can't find you. Half an hour has passed since Natsuo called. He's in a frenzy. Endeavor forces himself to calm down and think.

His son didn't mention music. He looks far into the street and he can see the entrance of an alleyway, he hushes there.

His stomach tied in knots when he sees in the dark your small figure crouched down beside a dumpster. your shoulders ate shaking with silent sobs holding your dead phone for dear life, trying to make yourself smaller than you already were, head down.

Enji barks your name and your head snaps to the entrance of the alleyway in shock, your body trembling and fat tears running down your smudged makeup.

“Daddy!”

In a second you were up and running, throwing your body against him and hugging his middle. He doesn't know what to do first, but he opts for following his instincts. Enji hugs your shaking form, shushing you lightly while petting your head. He doesn't know if it's him or you who's shaking more.

He doesn't remember how, but he manages to walk both of you to his car without being seen, his hulking form covering your smaller one.

He's shaking. When Enji puts you in the passenger seat and the car lights momentarily shine everything in an amber glow, rage fills his chest. You are in a dress he has never seen before, he knows it was not yours. He would never allow a thing like that or let you use it in public. Your makeup that before being ruined by your smudging and crying, was heavy and meant to seduce.

He closes your door and gets in the car.

He's shaking.

——

Enji can only control himself enough to not rip the wheel or step on the gas right through the flooring for only three blocks. and thank the gods again for the hour, because he could not quite see the streets in front of him. If they weren't deserted while he drives double the velocity permitted, it would be likely that the fears of his family being again under the cruel and ravenous judgment of the public eye would become reality, although for a completely different reason from the ones he has been dreading until this point.

When he reaches the fourth block, he makes a sudden stop, turning and parking harshly with the front of the car almost all the way over the curb, the tires skidding loudly into the quiet of the night and scaring you out of your still shell shock state. your small sniffles stop when you let out a muted yelp of surprise.

Enji quickly pries his hands that have a death grip on the wheel and smash the roof of the car to turn the lights on in such a way that later he’s impressed he didn't send the entire ceiling flying. As fast as he did that and the darkness of the car is now cast in warm gold, his hands are on your small frame like a striking snake, a big calloused one gripping your face between meaty fingers, squeezing your wet cheeks and the other one in your far shoulder, turning you in his direction with a barely controlled yank. Enji wasn't sure if the shaking was coming from your body or his.

He's frantic, hectic, eyes going up and down your body trying to find anything, something. “Are you hurt? tell me,” His voice is harsh, too loud into the small space. You jump startled, but his grip locks you in place, he doesn't notice.

Why did you come to a party? Why are you dressed like this? Why did you do this?

“Are you?? Someone did something? Gave you something, touched you?” He barks again louder, bending and twisting to be in your face now, eyes scanning all over your body. But again and again, they would be drawn to the too short hem of your dress, from your ruined tearstained makeup and down again to your soft and creamy thighs, trying to find a mark, a scratch, a stain. Anything, something.

“Fucking answer me!”

“Dad please!”

Enji lets you go as if you just slap him in the face. He blinks.

You are shaking. Looking at him in fear, silent tears running down your cheeks. Your jaw is set as you try to hold your whimpers back, his fingers make red marks bloom on your face and arm under his digits.

Memories come back rushing. Phantoms scourging in blue flames.

He releases you as if you burn him.

His hands hover in place, and he doesn't dare to move, still crowding you. Both of you staring at each other in fear and confusion as if something would break.

He slowly backs away, and you keep still. He turns the light off and stares at the road.

Enji couldn't take more things between both of you breaking.

He takes a deep breath. Starts the car again to drive back home.

——

Friday nights are your nights.

Enji doesn't really remember when it started. But he knows it wasn't something that was spoken of or agreed beforehand. It happened once, then twice, then his job got in the way, then thrice, and when he noticed, it was a routine between him and his daughter.

Like most things between both of you, it just… fell into place. And it just felt right.

Endeavor would arrange his schedule in a way so that his Fridays would be empty, any emergency at the agency could be easily solved that way, patrols and hero work set on the weekends so he could come home at a sensible hour, just by dinnertime.

He would be just taking his blazer and shoes off at the entrance when Enji would hear your running steps from the kitchen, your pinky apron-clad figure hushing to meet him with a bright smile, eyes shining.

you would get a hold of his tie and gently tug down for him to bend at the waist to your level, your arms were thrown in a warm hug on his neck and a sweet and lengthy kiss on his cheek after he steps through the threshold. you would giggle against his face from the tickles you got from his stubble while warmly welcoming him, the food still hot on the table.

It was one of your multiple habits together, just the two of you. And it felt right.

It was routine. And it felt so domestic, warm and right.

Friday nights are your nights. After he gets home, you guys have dinner, something you cooked by yourself, sending the older housemaid away earlier.

Sometimes it is a new recipe, sometimes something you already tried before. But it's always good, and when Enji compliments your cooking skills and how much he enjoys it, your cheeks blush red. You daintly try to hide your smile as you thank him, bashful behavior so alluring even when he knows is just a little act, playing coy. There's warmth in his chest.

The lights in the dining room cast everything in this whimsical warm glow and maybe it's the beer, but Enji thinks it reflects lovely on you and the color of your blouse today. He says so.

“Looking so pretty tonight, princess.”

The red on your cheeks grow stronger. From across the table, he hides his smirk behind his can at seeing how you fidget in place, trying to contain your coquettish smile while biting your plush bottom lip. The warmth spreads lower.

Only later it dawns on him. Enji was flirting with his own daughter. And it was a habit.

It was routine.

Enji is sprawled on the big sofa comfortably, already showered and in his sleeping clothes after dinner, the second movie of the night halfway through.

It was a period drama and he tries to pay attention to the main points for your quiz about it the next day, but he was mostly checked out, lulled by the comfy dark of the living room, the buzz of the beers he drank, sleep and your warm body draped over his.

He doesn't really remember when it started, but he knows it was gradually. One day in your Friday movie nights, he notices you were glued on his side, and on the next one you had an arm draped over his torso while both of you were laying on the reclining couch, and since then, you were always over him, arms and thighs and breasts glued to his body, but most of the time cutely laying on his chest.

That night was no different. You are laying on his broad chest, using your arm as leverage to look down and back at the tv in front of the sofa, and for you to not slip he has one big palm over your waist and the other in a secure hook on the slope of your knee, propping your bent leg higher across his stomach. Your breathing matches his, and if not by your little grunts and noises of surprise, the redhead would have thought you had fallen asleep on him. It would not be the first time.

The clothes you are using are small and had hiked up a long time ago, a loose tank top and booty shorts, both of them old and worn out, sleep clothes.

From where he was, he could see all your body over his. From the crown of your head to the slope of your waist as it dipped under his scarred hand. His gaze follows the curve of your thigh draped over his waist to the fat of your ass pointing high. He muses in a daze that he could see the inside of your tank top, the soft swell of a breast making an appearance. He leers.

You move a little, and this time, he can make out the shade of a nipple. It’s pert and small and pretty, and blood rushes to his clothed cock, but is late, and he's tired and buzzed out. It doesn’t connect in his mind.

You move. you are getting yourself higher on his chest. Enji feels small hands wandering under his shirt. Presses of lips on his neck. Wet kisses on the stubble on his jaw.

The soft touches pull him deeper. There's a young and wanton body over his. It’s been so long since he truly touched another, let himself be touched. Smooth lips and an uncertain tongue were kissing him, and he wants to devour them. It’s hot and burns and makes his insides coil, his cock hard and heavy inside his pants. A warm slit humping it.

Could have been the tiredness, the beer, the comfort of the situation, anything really.

Enji kisses you like a man starved. Head moving and ravaging your much smaller mouth with his tongue. His hand yanks your tank top down exposing your breasts, and now he’s pulling and pinching the sweet nipples in a way that makes you moan against his tongue with a voice he couldn't recognize.

His other hand was down at your ass, guiding your movements back and forth on his erection with vigor, the friction against your slit makes you weak, but he keeps you moving, his calloused hand encompassing most of your behind. At each needy thrust his fingers would slide down between the cleft of your ass more and more.

His meaty fingers push the bottons of your shorts aside with a flick of his wrist, and now he's touching directly your puffy lips that are messy and wet all over. Enji growls in your mouth as you moan louder when he starts playing with your pussy, a pitched whine as he flicks your clit up and down, a strong hold on your breast.

A loud bang from the TV is what snaps him back to reality.

It was his daughter.

His daughter was over him. It was his daughter that was humping his cock, that he was sucking her small tongue and tweaking her nipples until he made her squeal.

He jumps to his feet and throws you across the couch.

Different from him, you look wide awake. Flushed face and startled eyes stares up at him, exposed breasts still heaving. Nipples rosy and hard. Between your legs, a glistening trail of where his fingers dragged when he ripped them off of you. Your shorts are drenched.

There's a moment of silence.

Enji snaps. He sprints to his bedroom, leaving you alone in the living room.

He locks his door, drops to the floor, and whips his hard and heavy cock out. in three pumps, thick ropes of cum cover his hand and clothed middle.

Taking big gulps of air trying to calm his breathing, his eyes glancing everywhere in a panic state, he looks down, and spot the wet patch on his clothed thigh. Yours juices that leaked on him. Its still in his other hand, fingers wet.

Enji wants to cry.

He tried to be a good father.

He ruined it again.

[moonlightwritesdisney]

YOU. — Wyatt Lykensen

Pairing: Wyatt Lykensen X FEMALE! READER

Requested: Yes / No

Warnings: vulgar swearing. descriptions of blood. unhealthy behavior. mentions of rape.

Author’s Note: please note that you (the reader) and wyatt are both adults in this image. Just to clear up any confusion!

Summary: The first time he saw you he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. He follows you everywhere. He gets jealous when he sees you invite a friend over for old times sake. Things go way to far. You will be his.

HE ALLOWED THE LOUD CHATTER and birds song in the bright summer square of ZombieTown to be slowly drowned out by all his pulsing thoughts. He stood in the distance observing you. Out of all the people that passed by blocking his view, he kept his hard eye on you.

 The way your soft brunette curls laid untouched just inches away from your descending chest. Echoes of your honey dripping laugh rang through his twitching ears. The jealously and anger only grew worse.

Unbeknownst to you, not aware of the wolf watching you had just finished a few hours of shopping, you were making your way down towards the central parking just by ZombieTown’s large water fountain before you were stopped by an old school friend — who was male. 

He was so surprised to see, he complimented you and watched you laugh in sweetness. Both of you stood their for at least 20 minutes catching up on old burnt out memories he was trying to re-flame. He could read your mind. He felt the same as you. He knew you were uncomfortable and wanted to make a fast escape. You didn’t trust this guy but.

“Hey uhm- i was actually wondering if you’d like to have dinner and a movie tonight?” Was this guy serious? After a twenty minute conversation?! You weren’t one to be rude because of your passive personality. “Oh — uhm sure! I’d like that. I’ll be there at seven o’clock”.

 And with that you were off and on your way home. Wyatt watched as you retreated towards the silver Cadillac you owned in the parking lot. He watched all around him. He glared at the young man who was walking the opposite way. That dumb human. He couldn’t stand a chance against him.

Nonetheless, he knew you’d be his one day. He’d let you have the little amount of happiness this human could spare for a while. He’d imagine you helpless crying and running straight into his arms. The way your head laid on his shoulder while he rubbed your back in a calming manner.

 Leaving little kisses on our neck when he was in the mood, the warm feeling of both your sweaty bodies pressed together in pure erotic euphoria. Tingles ran down his spine as he imagines your soft smile in his mind. His heart raced at the thought of your body. Every curve and edge. All the imperfections you could name he’d find absolutely exhilarating.

“Hey man, curfew’s almost up you have to leave”. Another voice snapped him out of deep personal thoughts, he eyed a stern looking officer dressed in a blue SeaBrook uniform, who was very tired and just wanted to go home. He nodded his way respectfully and exited the shopping plaza. The walk to your house wasn’t long. 

The city had separate ZombieTown’s main housing and shopping lot so you had to drive at least a small distance to venture for a desired shopping day. He had taken the path towards your small apartment plenty of times, along with being a wolf came with advanced speed so he made due time. The sky swirled with light pinks and oranges making a beautiful sunset in the small town.

The crunching of grass under his feet made his anxious as he took a deep breathe, his footsteps became silent in worries of you discovering him. He stood calmly in your background his ears twitching hearing you humming to yourself softly — he figured you were in the shower getting ready for you date.

A scoff left his red lips in jealousy, he hated that it wasn’t him. ‘in due time’. He thought to himself confidently as he caught attention to light fogs of steam arising from the running shower. Now, Wyatt was no prude but he absolutely couldn’t resist. His curious brown eyes peered above the brick ledge.

A gasp hitched in his throat. His heart could explode at any moment. Their you stood, pampering yourself in the shower. Looking ever so beautiful. The water dripping down your pale dark skin. Your green textured hair soaking up the moisture from the water. 

He bit down on his lip as goosebumps shot up his back. You were marvelous. Your beautiful voice flowing through his ears as you sung. His eyes grew yellow, his animalistic nature taking full control. Fangs flashed from his mouth.

He tightened his fist in frustration. He wanted to take you right then and there. ‘All mine’. He thought as he found himself skewing up dirty — unholy images in his mind of him senselessly fucking you, clinging to him as you screamed his name. He knew it was wrong. The tightening he felt in his boxers was painful. Too painful to even bear. He wanted you, every inch. 

To him you were everything. All his. After having to agonize through his painful boner he regained composure after zipping up his pale brown pants and moved stalkingly towards the right his eyes casting view into your bedroom window, the soft white shades slightly parted allowing him to see through.

Different collages and pictures of close friends and things you adored plastered all over your walls. Small shelves that held small knickknacks and small plants lightly attracting ray of sunlight bent at the wall. Your bed, freshly made with the soft maroon red and pillows with the dark hues of blue designed with golden tassels laid neatly, untouched.

 You were somewhat messy, but very articulate and decorative. Which he adored. Small white bookshelves filled to the end with large literature of your liking. Pushed up against your light grey accent wall. Posters and cute pieces of art made by yourself were taped just above your bed post.

He adored your room. It was full of positivity, light, and all things that you adored. The sweet vanilla and shea scent from your body streamed into his nose like a running river. Licking his lips in anticipation he closed his eyes and exhaled your delectable scent. 

You walks into the small atmosphere the cold air hitting your bare legs, missing the warmth of the water and steam capture your body in a relaxing shower. It was a sewer green like color to which your full cheeks spread into a large smile ‘perfect’.

After reaching for a pair of distressed and ripped jeans that you had seen in the corner of your eye you pulled down the chain to your light which shut off you quickly threw your clothing on your bed and sat down on the edge freeing the sparkling red cap on your lotion squeezing the lotion onto your hand. 

It smelt amazing, ever since zombies had fought for more equality from the humans. Zombies from everywhere where now able to walk into any store much to the similar human version of their Victoria Secret and others. To which they could by all sorts of cute lipglosses, lotions, night wear, and clothing. The sweet deep smell of cinnamon and rose entered your nostrils as you rubbed the lotion into your calves working your way up to the top of your thighs.

The black pupils widened in arousel and wonder as he stared into the inside of your window without your knowledge — your hands slowly rubbing the white substance on the curve of your plush butt. He was awe stricken, so captivated by the goddess he had known as you. His heart thumped wildly in his chest he couldn’t get enough of you.

 Your finger pulled up the red belt loops of the maroon jeans your legs fitted around, securing the gold buttons of your jeans into the red holes in front. You sighed and fumbled with the thin green fabric you scrunched up the material and pushed your head through, then your arms.

You stood in front of the large white rimmed body mirror that leaned against the back wall with a cute colorful tapestry laid over it with pictures of close friends and fun stickers plastered on the corners of the glass. You loved the way your outfit looked. You felt very satisfied. A huge smile spread across your cheeks. The left of your head swung towards the opening crack of your door — the ring of your front doorbell. 

You drowned in confusion, your eyes reached over to read the square alarm clock on your night side table. ‘6:24’. ‘He is only twenty minutes early’. Which you thought was very weird. You had just met back with your old elementary friend hours ago , and only after having a seemingly awkward conversation for twenty minutes you agree to go on a date but he’s twenty minutes early?!

You pondered at the all the possibilities as to why he suggested this. But nonetheless you shook the feeling away and picking up your towel placing it in your pale green clothing hamper. Stepping out of your room and down into the wide hallway your fingers wrapped around the chilling gold door handle and yanked it open.

 There he stood, bouncing eagerly on his toes. His hair slicked back with hair spray, the clothing he wore was doused with heavy calogne — the foul heavy smell of the body spray stung at your nose the second you opened your front door. Which was something you didn’t find attractive at all. The wide smile he wore seemed like it was too toiled. Like he was trying to hard. His clothes. Ew.

He wore a bright blue and white plaid buttoned, with a black lambskin jacket over it unbuttoned, dark blue low waisted jeans and light brown flats. Yikes. How human of him. You absolutely hated what he was wearing. You knew he was being desperate. You could see it in his body language and his expression. You spotted bright red roses — in front of him you would have scoffed and sent him away.

 If he truly remembered you he would have remembered you like sunflowers instead of basic red roses. How bland. But instead, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. You knew the crippling and heart breaking sorrow of rejection, you were a zombie of course so being cast out was something you knew all to well. Instead you tilted your head to the side and forced your cheeks into a great smile.

“Are these flowers for me?” You asked clasping your hands together. He looked down then up at your a small smirk plastering on his thin lips — ‘ABSOLUTELY NOT SIR PLEASE GOD SO DISGUSTING’. These thoughts screamed in your mind as you watched him with pure unattractive as his licked his lips “yes they are actually”.

 He said with a very man-ly chuckle “they reminded me of you so I picked them up at the zombie market in town on my way here”. As if this dude wasn’t trying hard enough. He truly had to glamorize the fact that he picked the flowers up at a zombie store instead of the regular human one. So he was racist and trying to hard. Great. You let out an awkward laugh and stepped aside allowing him in before the air became filled with his disgusting aroma.

You had retrieved the flowers from his hand and immediately threw them carelessly on the counter. He didn’t question it but instead following closely behind you. ‘I’ll burn them later’. You thought with a pleasing smirk that played on your face. He had already sat down in your living space his flats sprawled on the floor and his feet kicked up on your glass coffee table. Dog behavior. You rolled your eyes he was stupid and too dumb to even understand basic manners.

 Football was playing on your small flat screen, you had taken a seat next to him your feet flat on the floor, your toes curling in the soft plush carpet. “Would you like something to drink?” you asked politely, the man turned his attention towards you, a curl in his lip “hm sure, the finest wine you’ve got?” He requested you stood up and went into the small kitchen opening the oak cabinet next to the sink you had set both wine glasses down on the marble countertop. 

The dark brown hues in your eyes scanned out the closed window above your sink watching the bright pink sky combine with beautiful colors of orange and red cascading over the oval clouds. You twisted the cork out of the bottle of white wine you had just bought from ‘Z’s Gruesome Groceriez” in ZombieTown. 

You wondered if this human had tasted zombie issued wine before, since well zombie wine was a lot more bitter than regular human liquor / wine. It had a hint of brains. You shrugged with a ‘hmp’. ‘He’s too dumb to even notice anyway’.

After filling both glasses to the half point you held both of them in your hands and carefully walked back into the living room where the human sat on your white leather couch his eyes and full attention soaking into the fourth quarter and a fumbling ball. 

You cleared your throat to catch his attention, he smiled towards you and took the wine glass from your right hand and thanked you focusing his content back on the television. “So .. what are you doing for work now?” you asked trying to break the awkward tension to which he perked up after taking a small sip and setting it down.

 “Oh well I’d never thought you’d ask, I work as SeaBrook patrolman, you?” You ignored the sting in your gut “I work as a journalist and a proud activist for the Zombie’s and Werewolves’ against discrimination movement, or ZAWAD, it supports the bright culture of both werewolves and zombies and brings everyone together. 

We try to unite the communities in SeaBrook instead of pushing away and we absolutely do try our best too peacefully speak our thoughts and have mindful conversations without violence.” 

You spoke proudly watching his intense expression burn into your eyes. He nodded slowly and pursed his lips which confused you nonetheless you still tried to ignore the screaming inside your head and gut ‘make him leave’. ‘this is going to end badly’. Chills scattered down your back in anxiousness.

 “That’s interesting and ... very sexy actually, your very passionate about it i can tell”. You internally cringed at that word coming out of his mouth. ‘Sexy’. He definitely wanted something, and it wasn’t a genuine conversation. You froze with disgust his nimble tender cold fingers resting on your knee. “oh uhm, thanks i guess”.

 You spoke trying to give him the hint, you weren’t interested even  if he was the last person on earth you wouldn’t. His hand inched closer towards your inner thigh a evil smirk plastered on his face. “god your so sexy”. He then leaned his lips towards yours capturing you in his grasp. You didn’t give an inch, you squealed in protest.

 You moved your arms to his biceps and tried to push him way from you , he refused now he was on top of you. His rough calloused hands slide up towards your collarbone, you groaned in anger “can you please just stop-- STOP!”  You shouted, his breathe was hot against your neck his left hand slide up towards your neck and pressed down onto your windpipe. 

You gasped gritting your teeth, you used your right hand to try and push him off but his strength held your arm down. You felt helpless, weak, worthless to know that you had somehow allowed this disgusting being to get ahold of you. That is, until you felt him grasping the metal of your Z-band. 

You knew that taking it off could potentially be a very dangerous action, which was only to be taken off in emergencies only. This was a very big problem and it needed to be stopped. His hand gripped the clasp of your band, you felt the dark veins pulsating throughout your body. 

Using the strength to lift your left hand which caused a small chime from your Z-band to sound, it unclasped from you wrist and fell somewhere on the floor. In just a few seconds the light around your eyes had turned a deep purple cracks plunging from under them. A low growl erupted from your stomach then submerged to your throat. 

The man felt you vibrate from below him, he had suddenly noticed you had changed. He gasped and stood up as you growled and snarled, you inched closer towards him as he took steps back defensively. “Stay the hell away from me you bitch!” He shouted sternly but the anger was hot and boiling inside of you. 

Turning into a zombie was something you couldn’t control. It was coded in your genes. Once your Z-band was ripped from you the monster took over inside you, just as it did for anyone. Your vision had turned completely red. The low grumbles and growling roared within you, this is what you were. A monster, and damn, were you proud of it. 

You stepped closer to the cowering man as he flared his arms towards you, which unfortunately, only agitated you more. In this moment you were gone, the zombie inside you was controlling you, and you smelt fear. Which was a bad thing. “Your a waste of human life”. Your normal quiet spoken speech had transformed into a lower deep growl. Using your zombie strength you grabbed the human by his leather collar and bite deeply into his neck, the loud scream leaving the dry of his throat. 

The blood seeped out of his neck like a river, you lifted him to meet eyes with a demon like growl “next time you better stop”. You seethed before letting him drop to the ground, the now scared human scrambled towards his feet holding the gushing wound his hand covered in red. He disappeared out of the living space and out of your life forever. Or at least you hoped he did. Grunting you walked over towards the crack between the couch and the pale wall, getting on your hands and knees you reach down for the metal bracelet. 

After securing it in your grasp you immediately push the clasps together around you wrist. ‘Online’. You let a content sigh slumping back beside the wall the dark veins in your arms slowly recoiled from your arms and legs. Your back ached and your head pounded. The sweet tasting blood of the humans still resting on your lips and along your cheeks. 

Finally, after about a few seconds you steadily returned to your feet. Ignoring the few blood spatters that were now fresh on the floor. ‘I’ll clean it up later”. You let a deep sigh release from your lips as you picked up the two wine glasses and brought them to the kitchen and discarded of the waste in the sink. 

You were fashioned in the bathroom taking a warm cloth and bringing it towards your face wiping off the dried blood. You sucked in a breathe the sound of your beating heart filling your ears. You didn’t feel at all ashamed for what you had done. That bastard human deserved it.

 The overbearing of your anxiety flared, you were worried you might get in huge trouble, since unfortunately, the human is never to blame. You had gone to bed that night in hopes for a better day the next morning -- the only problem was, he saw everything.   

[top-tier-tickles]

Dark Deception Tickle Au

Hoo boy, part 2, I'm so sorry for the small hiatus, I had trouble writing the mansion bit. Hope you enjoy!

___________________________________________

Chapter 3: Part 2

"304?! Are your kidding me?! That's more than anything I've gotten!" Doug complained, waving his arms around dramatically.

"Oh, hush, just get on with it and you won't have to deal with it." Bierce said with a stern tone of voice.

Doug sighed, and walked down the hallway into a large foyer. He squeezed his eyes shut and covered them as a bright light bounced off of the metallic...well, everything.

It seemed this whole mansion was made of gold, as if touched by King Midas himself. Everything glittered and shone so bright that a hazy golden glow filled the place, and a white and yellow color scheme only added to the pristine look. Even the floor had fancy patterns on it! Lit candles lined the walls, but the real kicker was a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

The foyer had two floors, with stairs leading up to the second one. Atop the first flight was a giant painting, in a VERY fancy frame, of a Gold Watcher who looked like it could be from colonial times.

And there was the ring barrier, dead center of the floor.

"You found the altar, now get the rest of the shards." Bierce ordered.

He had no time to gawk at the luxurious fixings, he had to get gathering before any of those statue residents came about. He was already hating these things.

Doug walked up the stairs to the second floor, however, the doorways all had golden bars on them, too strong to just break down.

He scanned the room once again, spotting two levers, one on each side of the painting. He pulled the right switch, and the two doors on the either side of the room suddenly opened, creating a path to the soul shards.

The halls of the manor glowed the same as the foyer, and it was structured the same way as the maze outside. The same traps were placed around the area as well. There were a few more traps as well, such as these swinging axes made to slow people down. There was even a few large rooms with traps covering a large majority of the floor, although there were lots of soul shards in those rooms...

After getting through one of these rooms, Doug found that all of the doors were blocked by the Gold Watchers, except for one.

With nothing to lose, he entered the room.

In the room, there was a giant vat of molten gold, with five watchers underneath it, all posed as if in pain, but with the same unflinching grin.

"They're using the ring's power to make more statues! What a waste!" Bierce exclaimed.

Doug rolled his eyes, he just wanted to get out of here.

In front of him was a pillar, and on it, another note.

This one told of how E had escaped Agatha, and ended up in the mansion. They compared it to the fable of King Midas (clever). And how the souls of the greedy were now incased in the element that they so loved. How fitting.

As Doug finished reading, his mind wandered to one question. Why did this "E" character seem so familiar? He thought he recognized the handwriting, and even the signature, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Doug's memory was still blurry, but still comprehensible, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't figure it out.

How ironic, he made it through law school, but couldn't piece together this puzzle.

The decor of the place was just as fancy as you would imagine. Intricate designs were on the walls and trims of doors, large rooms with fancy little couches and chairs were scattered around, and pretty rugs lined the floors. There were even sectors of the walls taken out, making a place for the statues to sit.

Unfortunately, it was these statues that were exactly Doug's problem.

The shards were spread far apart in the halls, and Doug could barely collect five before having to speed or teleport away from the watcher's hoity-toity laughter or their teasing whispers. At least he'd knocked the count down to 203.

Constantly having to spin around and stare down these Frenchman-fuckers, along with the overwhelming noises of clanging footsteps and snapping traps traps was starting to make Doug nauseous. The only thing keeping him from getting sick was the dim lighting of the candles.

However, the nausea was causing him to lose his senses. He would slowly wander around aimlessly before Bierce's demands or the touch of a watcher snapped him out of it.

While walking through a thin hallway, Doug happened across a small, floating sphere in the middle of it. Curious but cautious, he walked through it, suddenly, large words flashed in the air as the orb dissipated.

ENEMIES STUNNED

All of the monsters that were chasing him were perfectly still, even he when he turned away. But, the air was also filled with a loud buzzing noise, leaving Doug's ears ringing and the sick feeling growing.

Needless to say, he was tired, very tired.

With the newfound safety of the area, Doug spotted an elegant, cushioned chair with a matching footstool.

He sat down, the chair was very comfortable, the soft fabric of the cushioning allowed him to lean his head back, and the footstool allowed him to stretch his legs.

Eh, it wouldn't hurt if he rested his eyes for a few minutes...

___________________________________________

END OF CHAPTER 3: PART 2

Chp. 1-1, Chp. 1-2, Chp. 2-1, Chp. 2-2, Chp. 2-3, Chp. 2-4, Chp. 3-1, Chp. 3-2, Chp. 3-3, Chp. 4-1, Chp. 4-2, Chp. 5-1, Chp. 5-2, Chp. 5-3, Chp. 6-1, Chp. 6-2, Chp. 6-3,

[reuinx]

Red Lights (Yelena Belova x Reader)

Summary: You've been having a tough time lately. It's Yelena's goal to brighten up your day. The day takes the form of an afternoon spent in Yelena's car teasing, laughing, and singing. It looked like the day couldn't possibly get any better until tragedy struck.

Prompt by Anon ask: “Kissing your lover’s forehead as they’re dying in your arms but reader is dying please and thank you “​

Word Count: 2,047

Paring: Yelena Belova x Reader

Warnings: Brief mention of blood (Gore kept extremely minimal), tragic accident resulting in death.

Translations:  Malishka (Baby),  Dorogoy (Love)

Masterlist

Have you ever had those days when nothing goes right? You miss the bus, you say the wrong thing, you lose your temper, and you spend the rest of the day wondering what you could have done differently? It was one of those days. Using this logic, you are faced with a dilemma - you don't want to stay at home, but you don't want to stay alone either. You tentatively texted Yelena to see if she was free; she was. Summer heat caressed your exposed arms, leaving you with sun-kissed skin. 

Despite the heat of the summer, you kicked pebbles across the ground like a child. The sound of her approaching car preceded your sight. The noise of her exhaust was followed by the blaring of Babooshka by the brilliant Kate Bush on her radio. Typical Yelena. She was driving her obnoxious yellow Ford Mustang; it was convertible. She made sure she knew that. It was her pride and joy, and she loved nothing more than it; well, she did love something more than that car, you.

Parking along the footpath, she had the roof down, and her blonde hair was flowing. While one hand was on the steering wheel, the other was hanging outside her window. In a pure white shirt, she exposed the muscles tense in her arm. Her sunglasses slowly slipped down the bridge of her nose as she peered over at you. She was undressing you with her eyes. She was chewing gum; she moved her lips slowly to match her motion.

“Still moody are we, Malishka?” Yelena called out from her car. The smile on her face was always devilish. Even though today didn't go as planned, you felt like it would be heaven on earth with Yelena.

“No”, You replied flatly as Yelena pushed her sunglasses back up to hide her eyes; she turned to face straight ahead of her as you made your way towards the car.

“I’m going to keep doing it until you admit you’re moody.”

“Keep doing wha-“ Before you could finish, She shoved her hand down on the horn as the already noisy auto began honking. Those who passed by started looking at the car with wonder. Redness flushed your face as you raced to the car.

“Yelena! Stop!”

“Mhm?”

“I’m not-“ You swiftly shook your head as the horn continued its outcry. She was stubborn, but so were you. She always won; there was no fighting with Yelena.

“I’m moody!” The moment you admitted it, she took her hand off the horn, resting her head back against the headrest as she stared up at you with a toothy grin.

“God, I hate you. You know that right?”

“Nah, you love me actually.” She was right about that. Yelena leaned across to open the door for you as you made your way to the passenger side. After entering, you shut the door behind you and automatically turned down the radio.

“Trying to go deaf are you?”

“Mhm?”

“I said are you trying to go deaf?”

“What?”

“I said- Oh forget it! Stop teasing me. I’m just looking after you!”

“What are you, my mother?”

“Feels like it sometimes, El.”

“Ha,” Yelena grumbled. Your laughter today was finally made possible because of Yelena's reaction. You were comforted by her. Talking to your person always made your worries go away. Yelena tutted and pulled your seatbelt into the latch plate as she leaned over your body, grasping your belt to make sure it was secure. Yelena put the car into gear as it began to move, the engine rumbling to life as she drove at the appropriate speed. She would never dream of speeding with you in the car.

“Do you want to talk about today?”

“No no, it was just one of those days.”

“Good, I don’t have to kill anyone...”

“No killing anyone.”

“Unless…”

“No”, You shushed her as you glanced at her with the corner of your eye; Yelena was smiling. She looked genuinely happy, which was a relief to you. She radiated happiness onto you; it was impossible to escape.

“It’s a beach day today.” The comment came from Yelena.

“Are you going to throw me in?”

“Actually… I’m still debating it.”

“What’s the pros and cons?”

“Con is that you’re pissed.”

“What’s the pro?”

“It will make you laugh.” You hadn't encountered anyone with the same kind of personality as her. Selflessness characterized her. Her heart was pure gold. Although she was tough, when her walls were broken, she became the softest person you'd ever met. It was easy to love her. She reached over for your hand; she took it in her hand before placing your hand on the clutch. To change gears, she held her hand yours, moving your hand in the desired direction. She was reluctant to let go but eventually cleared her throat to ask. Freeing your hand.

“Will you change the CD, Dorogoy?”

With ease, you opened the glovebox and located the CD binder. The 2000s saw a lot of popularity with these. Not now. Yelena's argument "It can fit so many CD's in it!" She wasn't wrong. It did. There was tons of CD's from all different genres in it. She bought CDs of the songs you played on your phone, not just the ones she liked. Even though she hid it from you, you started to notice when her binder began to fill up. You flicked through the CD’s until one caught your attention. As you saw a blank CD with writing on it, you paused. "For You" is spelled in Yelena's impeccable handwriting. While her eyes rested on the road, you turned to look at her, returning your focus to the CD. Yelena was smiling softly at you while you were busy changing CDs.

“You made this for me?”

“I did. I wanted to make you a playlist and well, there’s no Bluetooth so I did the best I can.”

“You’re too sweet. But… You do know downloading music and burning it on a CD is pretty illegal.”

“If your worrying over me downloading music, you should see what else I do” Yelena released a chuckle as the music played from the radio. You leaned over as you adjusted the volume up as the song The Chain by Fleetwood Mac came through.

“I know you like them wood people”, Yelena murmured under her breath. Suddenly, you felt the excitement in your stomach rise. What else was on this CD? We get so caught up in the big things when we fall in love with someone. The little things are always the most important. You weren't just going to sing; you were going to perform as well. As you sang at the top of your lungs, you began to sway in your chair.

“And if you don't love me now -“ Your hand clenched as if it was holding an invisible microphone as you held it to Yelena’s lips. She smiled, licking her lips as she finished the lyric.

“You will never love me again.” She sang without hesitation, and while her voice is usually harsh, it was smooth and soft this time. When you heard her singing, you burst into laughter and clapped your hands in glee. The music picked up, and your hands moved with the lyrics. You didn't miss a word. Yelena was beginning to tap with the beat of the song on the steering wheel, laughing at how passionate you had gotten.

“I could listen to you forever.”

“Unlucky for you, you have forever with me”, You chirped out as Yelena frowned, turning her head quickly to glance at you.

“Why would that make me unlucky?”

“I’m a pain in the ass.”

“True but you’re my pain in the ass” She sounded more and more sincere with every word she said. Your singing continued unabated. As soon as the next red light came on, Yelena slowed her car down to a stop. It was now possible to see the beach. You were too busy performing for nobody to notice that Yelena was watching you. When she saw you happy, her eyes glowed with childhood excitement. All she wanted was for you to be satisfied. Because you were focused on the big things like the beach, you missed the little things like how Yelena looked at you. Anyone would kill for the kind of look she gave you. Yelena’s expression suddenly changed when you looked at her, her face filled with horror. She wasn’t making a face at you but something behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly, everything went black. You lost all sense of time and purpose of self. Feeling an overwhelming sense of emptiness, you thought it overtake you. You felt alone. Yelena? Where was Yelena? Was Yelena okay? Had you fallen asleep? There was a noticeable pressure in your chest, almost as if it was being squeezed. You felt your lips tingle, and your lungs fill with air.

"Hey!" A distorted voice echoed inside your head, and you couldn't understand what was being said or even who it was?

"Wake up! Please wake up!" It was beginning to become more legible until a voice broke through the silence.

"Malishika!" Yelena, it was Yelena.

The world was blurry as your eyes snapped open. As you blinked rapidly, flashing lights obscured your view of the figure above you.

"Stay with me, stay with me please." You now knew what the pressure on your chest was; Yelena had been pressing hard and fast on the center of your chest. It was her rescue breaths that tingled your lips. The haze in your vision was clearing as you could see Yelena. It was evident from her face that she had been crying. Spikes of blood could be seen on her face as sweat ran down her forehead. It wasn't her blood. It was yours. 

In your disorientation, you did not know where you were. You were lying on the road when you suddenly remembered being in the car. Your eyes focused on Yelena's car as you tilted your head to look past her. Now you know what Yelena saw behind you. As you were sitting on the passenger side, a car ploughed straight into you through the red light. Yelena must have rescued you from the wreck. With growing dizziness and fatigue, your eyes began to flicker shut. The feeling of Yelena grasping your cheeks caused your eyes to dart open.

"Don't you dare close your eyes on me. I've lost everyone, I can't lose you too. I just can't. Please. Please don't go anywhere.. Just stay. Please just stay. I need you, god I need you. Please." She was begging you, pleading with you. The moment you tried to move, your body refused to react; you were powerless. With one hand on your stomach, she firmly grasped it. It was now clear that her previously pristine white t-shirt was heavily stained red. You felt queasy thinking that was yours.

"Hey, I'm okay. I'm okay baby. It's okay." You managed to whisper out as your voice was weak.

"It's not okay, it's really not okay. I don't know what to do! I can't stop the bleeding" Yelena's voice was firm, her jaw extending with the words she spoke as she tried to contain herself. She sobbed, her eyes flicking upward.

"It's okay, El. You can stop. Just stop."

"Don't fucking say that, don't ever fucking say that. You aren't going anywhere, you aren't. This is not a goodbye! Don't give me that bullshit. The paramedics will be here soon, they will! " She snapped.

"Baby, it's okay. It's going to be okay. Yelena? Do you hear me? "I love you. I love you so much. You know that, right?"

"I love you. God, I love you. Don't forget that, you hear me?" Yelena dipped her head down as she slowly pressed her lips against your forehead. She placed her free hand into your locks of hair as she slowly began to run her fingers through the strands of your hair.

"Baby?" She called out one last time. Your eyes locked onto her green eyes, admiring them one last time. The world around you faded to grey; the last thing you heard was Yelena's scream.

[jujutsu-headcanons]

Gojo Satoru general headcanons

Let's get one thing clear: this man is absolutely chaotic. He is always full of energy. His energy levels never reach below 50%. He is loud and proud, always running, and never takes a minute to relax.

Do not give him Monster. Shoko did that once and it took her forever to get him off the ceiling. Also, avoid caffeine. Shoko replaces his normal coffee with decaf and he still hasn't noticed the difference. Keep it that way.

He was the class clown when he was younger. He wasn't exactly a trouble maker, but he may as well be. I cannot word that sentence and I am sorry. Next.

All of his teachers assumed he never listened in class, so they always called in him when they thought he wasn't paying attention. It still shocked them every time he rattled off the correct answer.

Not only did he answer the question correctly, but he could also explain his reasoning behind the answer, and if it was multiple choice, explain why the other answers were wrong. 

This tall man child would march up to the board and absolutely fill it to the brim with work, turn around, drop the chalk-like a mic drop and walk back to his desk with the smuggest look on his face.

That doesn't mean he did the work tho

Idk how schools in japan work but we all know schools in America only care about the amount of work you do and not what you actually know so we'll use that for the sake of the headcanon: he had straight D's bc he never turned in his work

Despite not doing the work snd goofing off, teachers actually really liked him

A lot of people liked him and he was super popular, but he still felt alone

Fake friends, you know how that works, he didn't meet any real friends until he became a shaman

Clean freak. This dude actually makes his bed. He scrubs his bathroom twice a week. His desk can get cluttered but he straightens up once a week. He's not exactly a germaphobe because

He cannot respect your personal space and that's actually canon but let me take it a step further 

He's a slapper. Especially when he laughs. It doesn't hurt, it's playful dw. He hugs you from behind especially when he's cold. He picks you up and carries you around. He will grab your wrist, arm, or hand and lead you around even if you're following him. He lays his legs across you or lays across your lap. Puts his head on your shoulder. Platonic cuddling between friends is mandatory. He's just so hands-on it's ridiculous.

Unless you explicitly tell him you're uncomfortable he won't stop

Don't worry, if you aren't in that type of relationship, your no-no square is safe. Except, if you seem chill, he will slap your ass regardless of friendship status. His ass is also slappable. You can't tell me Geto and Gojo didn't run around slapping each other asses, okay

He was weird and scrawny as a child. He didn't start beefing out until he started training to be a shaman and he's still kinda smaller than most beefy boys

He can pick you up and throw you around easily. He carried around a 170 pound Yuji like a sack of potatoes and can easily carry around three times that weight

It's amazing he's so tiny because you remember 2014 Shane Dawson making all of those wack ass desserts that was just s pile of chaos wrapped in chocolate?

He can eat every last bite of one of those monstrosities without getting a stomach ache, gaining weight, or dying basically

He knows bc Yuji dared him to do it

He has really cold hands and feet

He sounds old. Let me elaborate. He's constantly cracking his joints. They also creak when he moves. He complains about body pains like he's 80 y/o

He also shares wisdom with the kids as if he's actually 80 y/o

It's irrelevant advice that doesn't make sense but is also useful. Megumi can't count the number of times he's asked Gojo for feedback on his technique but had been told to remember to chew 40 times or never go to bed angry

Starts off sentences with "now son" and "when I was your age"

He uses his blindfold as a headband when he wants his hair out of his face. He also uses headbands as... Headbands... When he wants to wear sunglasses but get his hair out of his face

He owns so many pairs of sunglasses but he always wears the same pair

He's only bought a handful of them himself, most of them are gifts

No one knows what to get him for Christmas or his birthday bc he has everything, so they resort to sunglasses

His favorite pair is a pair that Shoko and Geto bought him as a gag. He thought they were dead serious, though, so he wore them around for a month

They were heart-shaped, rose-tinted glasses

Can you believe this man doesn't use any gel or anything to keep his hair spiky with the blindfold on? It just naturally defies gravity when the blindfold is on

Tell this man he's pretty because he already knows. He's narcissistic but not the cringy kind

Photogenic as hell. Takes great pictures from any angle. 

He gives everyone a different story as to why he covers his eyes. Sometimes he says it's because his eyes are too pretty and are a distraction. Sometimes he says it's because the sunglasses/bandages/blindfold look cooler than his eyes. Sometimes he says it's to protect the six eyes from seeing things he doesn't want to see. The world may never know

He's tried covering his whole face before, but he thinks he's too pretty for that. He at least wants one of his many amazing features to be shown at all times.

So about his driver's license;

He knows how to drive. He can be a good driver. When he wants to be. He just doesn't have a driver's license.

Now he TELLS people he just never got around to getting one, however, there's a rumor he lost it due to too many parking tickets

It's amazing the only tickets he's ever gotten have been from that and once he got caught without a seatbelt; he would have gotten out of that one if he hadn't been flirting with the police officer so bad

This doesn't stop Gojo from driving places though

He steals Ijichi's car a LOT and Ijichi DOESN'T KNOW HOW like??? The windows are never broken and it doesn't look hotwired-

Gojo has a key

You're not even supposed to be able to duplicate car keys but Gojo did 

Also; none of the first-year trio knows he doesn't have a driver's license, though that much should be painfully obvious

He whips around corners, speeds up at yellow lights, goes "watch this" and does a donut, it's just a mess

The poor students have to sit in the backseat too. Just imagine Megumi with all three seatbelts around him like that one meme.

He thrives off of Nobara and Yuji screaming from the backseat, and he can see Megumi being smooshed because he thought the middle seat was the safest through the rearview mirror

Which he doesn't even need because of the six eyes

Despite being such a reckless driver, he knows when danger will happen, so he's never once gotten in a wreck

He blasts the radio, which makes up for the driving.

Has a habit of getting in a car and ending up in the McDonalds drive-thru

Steals other people's fries and keeps the fullest one for himself.

He was rebellious as a kid and teenager, but hey, at least his juvie record is sealed 

He's been detained and in the back of a cop car many times, but the reason was never really bad enough for him to be arrested. Mostly he's just being mouthy. And the time he got caught spray painting on the side of a building. And that one time he and Getou hopped the fence to get into the local pool. And that other time-

It got worse after Getou wasn't around to get him out of trouble. Suddenly, breaking the rules wasn't fun anymore and he mellowed out. 

Tried alcohol and cigarettes before he was legal. Decided neither was his thing, however, he did start drinking occasionally when he was legal.

He's a fucking chaotic drunk. Oh my god he's absolutely feral

Most bars in the vicinity know him by name and they sigh whenever he walks in

Shoko is his emergency contact. She hates it

Shoko has to drag drunk Gojo home at least twice a month and is not happy about it

Once she left him in an alley. He made it home okay so she guesses it's fine

Once he got so drunk he spilled beer on his sock. The thought the fastest way to dry them was by sticking them in the microwave. Forgot about it until someone asked, "Who the fuck is cooking socks???"

I feel it important he was in the break room of the local grocery store and no one knows how he got there

As he was escorted out he stole a grocery cart and rode away in it while singing Don't Threaten Me (With A Good Time) by Panic! At The Disco

He has no alcohol tolerance at all what so ever

He will literally just stare at you and giggle

It's funny he's really flirty but also doesn't seal the deal. Literally, every woman in that bar is willing to get in his bed but he declines every offer. No one knows why

Its because he respects women

He helps his students break the rules as long as they're within reason. Once night Yuji was really hungry and after having a temper tantrum he couldn't order Uber eats bc the school is supposed to be secret Gojo helped sneak him out to get food. Who needs curfew anyway.

The shirts in his closet range from like twenty bucks to the iconic rich bitch shirt the kids ruined in that one chapter we all know the one 

He still wears that by the way, he calls it "art" 

When he was younger, Megumi drew a picture of Gojo being eaten by his shadow dogs. Gojo found it and now it's framed in his room.

He keeps up with current trends and memes like no one's business. This is how he bonds with his kids.

Don't call him old, but also, he'll tell you to respect your elders it's a mess

He has a lot of games on his phone. You can usually find him holding his phone sideways playing some RPG game he probably spent too much money on 

He did hop on the Pokemon Go hype train but after becoming overpowered he got bored

This happens to a lot of games. He pays way too much money, gets to be the strongest in the server, and gets bored

He likes games where you can kill other people's troops and likes to watch as they lose all their power

I canon him as being borderline sadistic

This is why he's Sakata Gintoki reincarnated

White hair, sweet tooth, black leather clothes, dad vibes, never takes anything seriously bc when he does he's scary as fuck, the works.

He is Sakata Gintoki

He liked Gintama growing up. He watched a lot of iconic shows as they aired. He considers himself an og

He's hella bilingual

Because he's the strongest he goes overseas for missions a lot. Because of this he speaks a lot of languages and knows a lot about international cuisine 

He takes pictures of himself eating disgusting foods like snails. He never likes them but he loves the idea of Nobara gagging back in japan

Has paperwork sitting untouched on his desk from three months ago that he will not touch for at least another three months

Does the crossword puzzles in the newspaper every week

Uses humor as a coping mechanism and it honestly just became a personality

Constantly popping his joints. I'm sorry if you find this gross I too find it gross.

Probably brought home every stray animal he ever met ever until he was at least like 22 y/o

Tags: @wasabito @kittaliapenn