#was planning this for so long y'all

[lady-exophiliac-musings]

Monsterfucker Mansion: Intro

Note: This will be a multi-chapter work. Requests are wide open. Ask for a monster, and ye shall receive a fucking from it. ;)

This intro contains no sex, just some small worldbuilding and exploration. This story will include impregnation, and probably a lot of it, by all sorts of different exophilia crushes.

There's an old, abandoned building you know of. It's a far trip for you, but the rumors surrounding it are the most enticing things you've ever heard:

Anyone who goes in comes back out changed. In the case of all the women you've heard of, they come back out -- pregnant.

And not with human offspring.

Nervousness and disbelief had kept you away for years, constantly hedging over the validity of the claims and debating over the possible consequences of going there, yourself.

Lots of "what if" scenarios filled your daydreams and nighttime ponderings.

What if the rumors were true? What if you went there and met a vampire? What if you met a demon? What if you met an entire group of satyr brothers? What if a werewolf pack happened to visit it at the same time you did?

What if they fucked you silly and you came back home pregnant with some monster's baby?

How would you care for it? Would you care for it? Would you just go back after the birth and hand it off to the father? Would you keep it? What kind of mother would you be to a little half-demon or half-vampire or half-lycan? Was that even how it worked -- or would the baby take after its father fully?

Several years passed as you argued with yourself over this, constantly checking any reports you could find of continued activity in the abandoned mansion. Dozens of "interviews" were conducted in that time featuring people who'd claimed to have gone in, and they all had one thing in common:

Ecstasy.

They'd loved cavorting in that mansion with the creatures they'd encountered. And while there was nothing saying that they weren't just the lucky ones, that maybe hundreds had gone in and never returned at all, the very real possibility of you finding yourself at the mercy of a who-knew-what for a night and then returning home carrying its offspring was beyond tantalizing to you.

Eventually, you broke. You ventured to the mansion, opting to borrow a coworker's motorcycle for the trip to hide it easier once you got there. After all, you had no idea how long you were going to end up staying and you didn't want your vehicle to attract attention.

No, you'd much rather remain as anonymous as possible until the very end.

Giddy, you drive for well over four hours before finding the path leading into the spooky woods where the mansion waited. And, you soon discover, the path is notably worn by vehicle tread despite being a dirt road.

A lot of people had come here before you.

Even more excited, now, it's a little hard to focus as you continue down the road. By now you don't even need directions or your GPS; the road is so well-used it's obvious where you need to go.

Before long, the mansion comes into view.

And it is a mansion. The few images of the exterior you'd managed to scrounge up don't do it justice.

It's a massive building, four stories in the center and three for the two wings. The road winds left and right, giving you incomplete glimpses of it for a while, but it isn't hard to estimate that there's around fourty sets of windows on the front, implying numerous rooms on every floor.

It's definitely been damaged over the years, some windows badly boarded up and others visibly shattered. An overhang held up by columns create a wide front porch, and one of the columns has splintered and been semi-shredded in the middle. A set of stone stairs lead up to that porch, and chunks have been broken off from it.

Your heart's already pounding as you break free of the wooded area and follow the path as it curves up to the front of the building, a non-working three-tier fountain featuring a mermaid on a shell taking up a place of honor in front of it.

Giddy, you slow to a stop and remove your helmet so you can take a better look. No lights shine from within -- but, then, you'd expect that any monsters that frequent this place would probably be able to see in the dark. They wouldn't need the light.

Excitement hums in your veins. Was it twisted of you to find what comes next all the more appealing because you expect it to be scary?

Taking deep breaths to control the shaking in your core, you leave your helmet and riding jacket on the bike, stuff the keys in your pocket, and proceed up to the door.

It's ajar, you notice, as if inviting you to venture within.

You take out your phone and switch the flashlight on to illuminate the interior before you step inside, getting a lay of the land. After all, if it turns out this place was full of asbestos and tetanus, well -- that would be bad.

You want to get fucked by monsters, not diseases.

The area within is surprisingly clean, given the outward appearance. It's dusty, but more at the edges than anywhere else -- like it's been traveled quite frequently, you note. And there's a definite lack of broken or abandoned furniture as well.

Only a few pieces remain, and they're all visibly intact. A small table in the entryway with an attached mirror; a vintage sofa in a room to your left; a small dining table with a set of six chairs around it; a tall cabinet, empty within but the glass doors intact and clean of dust.

Someone had to be tending to this place, you realize, which means it definitely is occupied.

Now even more excited, you creep inside, the nervous part of you driving you to keep quiet just in case. It's stupid, maybe; you're here to get railed by the creatures that might be living here, yet your voice and actions are suppressed, caution and a constant feeling like you're being stalked forcing you to try and be stealthy.

Not even the recognition that you were definitely not ever going to be stealthy enough to avoid getting caught by monsters can halt the impulse for you to step quietly and avoid anything remotely wobbly.

Plus, you think, you are using your phone as a flashlight. If anything else is in here, it probably already knows that you are, too.

...Yet, disappointingly, nothing shows itself, not even after you've started to get a feel for the mansion's layout. It's a surprisingly intuitive design, actually. You feel like you don't get lost despite the size of it, able to follow the hallways, anticipate turns, and connect the three individual staircases you find without difficulty.

It becomes a secondary form of fascination to you. You even catch yourself testing your guesswork by finding your way back to the front door with increasingly roundabout paths and feeling impressed when you successfully locate it.

Still no monsters pop out at you, but by now you don't mind so much; you're having fun just exploring. And, at last, you decide to expand your search to the second floor, ascending the stairs.

...Every single room up here is, unequivocally, a fucking room.

The first one you find, nudging open the ajar door, takes you by surprise. It's a bedroom with a four-poster canopy, red velvet blankets, and a fur rug on the floor. A fireplace is situated against one wall with a desk and a 5-prong candelabra at another.

Oh yes, and there were leather cords with soft shackles affixed to each of the bed's posters.

A little stunned at the discovery, you move on to another room.

This one had a single mattress on the floor with a trio of pillows at the head and torn, bloody sheets tossed over it. Strangely, there was also a mini fridge in the corner, which -- when you checked it out of sheer curiosity -- was actively running and was full of various kinds of alcohol -- and ice cream.

A third room was dressed up nicely in pastel pinks and lace, including a vanity of pure white with gold trim, a mirror with lipstick kisses on it, and a large wardrobe across from the king-size, comfy-looking bed.

The next was a mixture of black and dark violet, everything styled in a leather-and-chains goth aesthetic, the window covered in heavy black drapes.

It went on and on. One room didn't have a bed, but rather a pile of soft fur blankets and throw pillows in front of a fireplace. Another was pristine and perfect, everything in white, black or grey and cut in sharp angles. The next was in rich blues and greens, a string of pearls embedded in the walls up at ceiling-level, the room itself notably colder than the others. Yet another was more rugged and worn-down, the floor scuffed, the walls scratched, everything in shades of brown, red and orange -- earthy, beastly, rough.

Things definitely were living here, you conclude, and there were a lot of them -- with vastly different styles and personalities.

Now if only you could figure out where the fuck they were hiding.

[morethanwonderful]

Sweeping away his competition with a constant lead and a final victory by 22%, Shen (Yuan) Qingqiu has officially beaten Qi Rong and been crowned the MXTX character that was/would be most insufferable if given access to the internet!

In the end, it turns out that this whole elaborate tournament was for naught. Even Qi Rong, the man voted more annoying that 63 other characters, cannot hold a candle to the sheer degree of insufferable that we know our dear Peerless Cucumber was and would be. Absolutely nobody can compare to Shen Yuan's canon keyboard warrior antics.

Thank you all for joining me on this journey! I hope everyone had fun voting in this tournament, as I know I had a lot of fun running things and watching everyone's hot takes. Shen Yuan may have rendered all but the very final round of voting moot with his sheer loveable obnoxiousness, but maybe the real most insufferable people online are the friends we made along the way :).

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[starflungwaddledee]

Oooo starstruck dee has little stars at the bottom of her feet! Are they just aesthetic or would they make imprints into the ground? (like pawprints)

exactly like that! though she's not the only one...

edit: might need to add some additional dialogue to this to make it more clear, but a clarification in the interim; he knows about his own footprints. he's just surprised to see something similar already there when he knows he's only just landed. he lifts his own shoe to confirm that they're not identical (and also to reveal this to the viewer). seems his stoicism beat off the clarity in this one, sorry 😭

[petite-phthora]

Do you think it was a date?

[DP x DC fic]

[Love at first... murder? - part 5]

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Part 1

Ao3

---

In-chat nicknames:

Daniel = Danny

Sharpshooter = Jazz

TooFine= Tucker

Chaos = Sam

TheCoolerDaniel = Danielle/Dani/Ellie

---

Private chat nicknames:

Bill = Danny

Pants = Jazz

---

As soon as Danny enters his apartment, face bright red, he takes his head into his hands and lets out a silent scream.

He could have said anything, and he panicked and went with Toodealoo Kangaroo???

At this rate, he’ll never get a partner.

As Danny stands there in misery, his phone starts buzzing with messages. Curious, he checks his phone to see what going on.

Uh oh.

---

Team Phantom 👻😎

Chaos: Guys check this out

Chaos: *link*

Chaos: The Joker escaped from Arkham again, but no one’s heard anything of him since, nor have they been able to find him

TooFine: @Daniel 👀

TooFine: ok the @ had been a joke but the fact that he has read it and not replied is concerning

Sharpshooter: @Daniel, what did you do?

Sharpshooter: @Daniel

Sharpshooter: I can see that you’re reading this, don’t ignore me.

TooFine: ohhhh someones in troubleee 👀

Sharpshooter: Tucker.

TooFine: 🤐

---

Danny takes a deep breath.

Well, it’s now or never. Let’s hope Jazz is feeling merciful.

---

Private chat

Bill: ok so you know how you said you would still love me if I was a worm?

Pants: I have no clue how this ties into the previous conversation, but yes. Why?

Bill: hypothetically

Bill: would you also still love me if I

Bill: hypothetically

Bill: accidentally

Bill: vibe checked someone that tried to uh

Bill: hypothetically

Bill: kidnap and or kill me??

Bill: 🥺🥺🙏

Pants: Danny, did you accidentally kill the Joker?

Bill: yes or no Jazz??!? 😩🥺

Pants: Yes, Danny. I would still love you if you, hypothetically, accidentally killed the Joker.

Bill: this is why you’re my favorite sister 🥹🥰😘

Bill: don’t tell Ellie 😳🫣

Pants: Danny, what happened?

---

Danny lets out a sigh of relief before proceeding to tell Jazz what happened.

---

Pants: Oh Danny.

Bill: are you mad at me?

Pants: I’m not mad at you, I just want you to stay safe.

Pants: While I don’t condone murder, I understand that it was self-defense and an accident. I‘m just glad that you’re alright.

Bill: 🥰💞😘

---

With a small smile on his face, Danny goes back to the groupchat.

---

Team Phantom 👻😎

Daniel: you know

Daniel: if I had a nickel for every time I’ve had to fight off an insane clown that attacked me 🤡

Daniel: I’d have two nickels

Daniel: which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice, right? 🤔

Chaos: Damnit Danny, we leave you alone in a new city for a week and you already manage to get into a fight with one of Gotham City’s most infamous rogues

TooFine: actually its been 6 days 10 hours and 17 minutes

TooFine: so not even a full week yet

Chaos: Did you at least get a good few punches in?

Chaos: Danny?

TooFine: @Daniel ???

TooFine: if i had a nickel for every time danny said something concerning and then didnt provide context id be richer than vlad

Daniel: anyway, for completely unrelated reasons, @TooFine I need you to wipe some cams for me 😃

TooFine: danny im not wiping the cams again so no one will have proof of you tripping backward and falling ass-first into a trashcan

Chaos: Speaking of, Tucker do you still have that footage and can you send it to me?

TooFine: already done

Daniel: noo it’s nothing like that this time 😫

Daniel: pleaseeee 🥺🙏🙏

Daniel: I’ll get you an autograph from Tim Drake-Wayne?

TooFine: deal.

Daniel: 🥳🎉

Daniel: ok so the footage from somewhere around 3 am last night

Daniel: around some place named park row??

Daniel: I think it’s called?? 🤔

Daniel: though I’m pretty sure I’ve also heard some people refer to it as crime alley

Daniel: not sure why tho 🤷

TooTine: aye aye captain o7

Chaos: Danny, in an alley getting attacked by the fucking Joker: I wonder why this place is called crime alley

Daniel: stop bullying me 😠

Chaos: No

TooFine: hey danny r u sure thats right? i checked the cams n stuff but theres no available footage from the area n time u described

TooFine: its like someones already wiped it all

Daniel: oh!

Daniel: that’s so sweet of him  😊

Chaos: Wait who is this ‘him’?

TooFine: the joker????

Daniel: oh no not the Joker

Daniel: just some cute guy I met last night  

Daniel: he witnessed me killing the Joker 🫣

Daniel: and didn’t call the cops on me afterward 🥰💞

TooFine: def green flag

Chaos: Oh hell yeah, he’s a keeper

Chaos: Wait you killed the Joker?! I thought you just fought him off!

Daniel: it was an accident!! 😭😭

Daniel: he crept up on me and tried to grab me 😓

Daniel: so I got startled and because all I saw was a clown

Daniel: I just kinda punched his face in with my ghost strength… 😰

TooFine: f

Chaos: f

Sharpshooter: Have you gotten rid of the body yet? Did you leave behind DNA at the crime scene? Will I need to start saving up bail money or getting ready to enact the Fenton Break Out plan?

Chaos: Jazz asking the important questions here

Daniel: well, considering the footage was wiped

Daniel: and also the fact that no one’s found him yet

Daniel: I think it’s safe to assume it’s all taken care of

Daniel: that’s honestly really sweet of him though 🥰😊

TooFine: oohhhhh ur mystery boo??

Daniel: yeah, this random guy saw me vibe-checking the Joker

Daniel: and let me go home without any trouble

Daniel: pretty sure he’s the one who wiped the cams 🤔

Daniel: and then today he showed up at my apartment with flowers 🥺

Daniel: they were sweat peas!!!! 🥰🤩

Chaos: Was that to thank you for the murder orrrr?

Sharpshooter: Oh those are your favorite, was that on purpose?

Daniel: well I didn’t tell him

Daniel: so I’m not sure if he knew or if it was a coincidence 🤷

Daniel: but yeah then he took me out to this restaurant called Pete’s for dinner

Daniel: they had some amazing cannoli

Daniel: you should try it sometime if you get the chance

Daniel: and then after dinner he took me to the observatory!!!!!!! 🤩🥰

Sharpshooter: Gotham observatory?

Sharpshooter: Isn’t that the one with the special telescope, I think you mentioned it before

Daniel: yeah, the crystal-powered telescope!! 😍💞✨🤩❤️

Daniel: and at the end, he brought me home

Daniel: and he asked for my number!!!

TooFine: nice dude!

Chaos: The guy really went all-out and planned your dream date hu? So, what’s this mystery hunk’s name?

Daniel: oh I’m not sure, I didn’t ask 🙃🤭

Sharpshooter: Danny…

Daniel: yes?

Sharpshooter: Did you go on a date with a complete stranger who witnessed you commit a murder?

Chaos: How do you not even know his name?

Daniel: two words Jazz: Johnny 13

Daniel: and he’s not a stranger!! 😠

Sharpshooter: But you don’t know his name?

Chaos: We just can’t leave him alone, can we? Less than a week on his own and he already murdered one of Gotham’s most infamous rogues and then completely forgets the concept of Stranger Danger

Daniel: I mean he probably just found it when he tried to do some research on me or something

Daniel: probably got it from the school’s system now that I think of it 🤔

TooFine: dude who the hell is this guy??

Chaos: Who the fuck did you go on a date with?

Daniel: do you really think it was a date? 🥺😳

Daniel: I wasn’t sure

Daniel: cause he mainly took me out for dinner to thank me for the night before

Daniel: but then again

Daniel: he did get me flowers and ask for my number after he brought me back to my apartment 🤔

Daniel: like I wasn’t sure if I was reading the signals right…..

Daniel: but do you think that was a date? 🫣

Sharpshooter: Danny, for the love of the Ancients.

Sharpshooter: Who was it?

Daniel: oh, it was Red Hood 🥰

TooFine: damn dannys got that vigilante rizz

Sharpshooter: Red Hood? The crime lord?!

TooFine: former, actually

Daniel: what he said ^^

Chaos: Danny, you really have a type huh? Vigilantes with a Red theme. Who’s next? Red Robin?

Daniel: stop bullying me

TooFine: never

Chaos: Never

Daniel: on a different note, who changed my name in the chat again?

Sharpshooter: Ellie did.

Chaos: Ellie

TooFine: @TheCoolerDaniel

TheCoolerDaniel: ��

TheCoolerDaniel: wait i just read back, danny’s dating a crime lord?? :0 👀

---

Taglist (for now, I’ll probably stop if I cant keep up):

@i-always-say-yea  @uraniumwizard

[henwilsonmd]

post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3

4251 words

“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”

Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”

“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”

“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”

read on ao3

Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—

“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.

Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”

Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”

“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”

Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”

“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.

Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”

“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.

“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”

“There was more?”

“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”

“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.

“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.

Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”

Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”

Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.

And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.

That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.

Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”

Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”

Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”

“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”

Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”

“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”

“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”

“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.

Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.

Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”

“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”

And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?

And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.

So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.

Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”

Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”

And Buck turned on the TV.

Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.

“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.

He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.

Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”

Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.

His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.

“Okay. Let’s go home.”

The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.

During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.

When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.

“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”

Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”

Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”

Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”

Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”

Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.

Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”

Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”

“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”

“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”

For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.

Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.

Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”

Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”

Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”

Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”

She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”

Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”

Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”

Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.

When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”

“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”

Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”

Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”

“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.

“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.

“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”

“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”

Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.

Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.

“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?

He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.

“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.

Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—

“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”

—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.

But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.

And Buck asked.

And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.

“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”

“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.

Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.

Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.

“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.

“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”

“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.

Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”

Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”

Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”

“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.

Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”

Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”

Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”

No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.

“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”

Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”

Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”

Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”

Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.

“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”

Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.

Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.

Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”

Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”

“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.

Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”

Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.

“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.

“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”

Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”

“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”

Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”

A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”

Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.

And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.

Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.

Just this. Forever.

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”

Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.

“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.

“What?” Eddie said.

“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.

“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.

“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”

“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”

“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”

“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”

“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.

“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.

“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.

Eddie drew back. “What?”

“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.

She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.

“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.

Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.

“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”

Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.

“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.

Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.

Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.

“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”

“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.

“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”

“You do?” Eddie asked.

“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”

Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.

“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”

Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.

“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”

Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”

Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”

“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.

Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”

Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”

He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.

Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.

“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”

[nethhiri]

Marooned: Chapter 22

Kid x FemReader X Killer

Warnings: Briefly suggestive?

Changing Tides

There was no land in sight when you went out on deck. In fact, the wind was whipping at the sails and the Victoria Punk was speeding along. You looked around deck, "WHERE IS HE?!" The crew moved out of your way hastily as you stormed after your target. A few weakly put up their pointer fingers in the direction of his workshop. It was a cardinal sin to barge in without being invited. The crew all seemed to tense at once when you marched towards it and kicked the door open, slamming it behind you. 

"WHO-" Kid looked up from what he was doing, to find you already eye to eye with him, leaning over his workbench. 

"Why am I on this fuckin ship again, Kid?!" You slammed your hands down on the table. "You could have left me somewhere! Or waited to boot me off before you left!" 

He pushed his goggles up to rest on his forehead. He seemed to take in a deep breath before he spoke, like he was trying not to yell. "First of all, I told ya that my girls would have been upset with me if I left ya all crispy. Second, did ya want me to wait until the island was crawling with marines?!" Kid tugged your sleeve to shift your hand away from what he was working on. "But if ya WANT to be caught so bad, I'LL TURN THE WHOLE DAMN SHIP AROUND!" 

"IF I'M STUCK ON THIS GODDAMN SHIP FOR ANOTHER HOWEVER MANY WEEKS, I'M GOING TO LOSE MY CHANCE TO KILL THAT BASTARD, YOU FUCKIN SMARTASS." You pulled his goggles and let them snap against his head. "I need to find a ship and get after him!" 

Kid rubbed his forehead. "Yeah?! And you think yer gonna find a crew?!" He couldn't hold himself back from adding, "That didn't work out well for ya the first time, did it, Rotten?" 

The force with which you jumped over the table knocked him backwards out of his seat. Kid was easily the person who made you see red the fastest. "SHUT YOUR FUCKIN MOUTH!" Both of your hands together didn't fit around his neck. You pushed down with your full body weight, knees on either side of his chest. "STUPID FUCKIN THICK NECK TO HOLD UP YOUR STUPID FUCKIN BIG HEAD!" You growled out of frustration. 

"FER MY BIG FUCKIN BRAIN," Kid cackled, slightly raspy from your grip. He wasn't even trying to stop you. His hands were behind his head, totally unbothered by your assault. That only served to make you more mad. Kid could tell you were about to really let him have it. Relenting, he admitted, "As much as I'm enjoying this, ya can calm yer pretty little ass down." Your eyes narrowed. "We're already in pursuit. Ya think I would let them get away with kidnapping my crew?"

"Why didn't you just say that?!" You eased up on your grip.

"And miss this view?" Kid snickered. He looked you up and down. "Yer hot when yer mad." He reached to grab your chin and you swatted his hand away. That didn't seem to phase him as the same hand grabbed your thigh. "If ya just scoot down a bit I got somethin for ya ta sit on," Kid licked his lips.

His grip released you quite quickly when you brought a fist full of armament haki down into his sternum. "Fuck you, Kid," you growled, watching him cough and roll around on the floor. You left his workshop just as huffy as you went in, though now you were conflicted. Now, you weren't sure if you were mad at him or not, if you were enemies or not, and worst of all, if you were horny for him or not. Him and his stupid fuckin big co-.

Quincy's vice-like embrace cut your thoughts off from going any further. "Y/N! You're okay!" She rocked you both back and forth until you gently pushed her back.

"Yeah, I'm fine." You smiled awkwardly at her. "Thanks for the concern. And you guys, all good?" 

Quincy grinned, "Only thanks to you!" She grabbed your hand and pulled you to follow her. "Come on. We wanna show you something." 

She tugged you along down to the women's quarters and very proudly presented an empty bunk to you. You gave her a questioning look.

"It's your bunk!" She was practically glowing. 

"Oh... wow..." You didn't know what to say. You had no plans to stay here long-term, but you didn't want to disappoint her. 

She rolled her eyes at you. "I know you're not staying." She put air quotes around 'not staying'. "Sleep here with us instead of alone up there." She added, with a sly grin, "Or in the captain's quarters." 

You scoffed, "Absolutely not. He can kiss my ass."

"I bet you'd like that." 

You shrugged. "Maybe I would," you stuck your tongue out at her playfully, before smiling. "Thanks, Quincy. That was... actually pretty nice of you guys." 

______________________________________________________________

Sleep escaped you. Or maybe you were fighting it. The nightmares you used to have faded over time, and now they were back in full force with recent events. You leaned against Mini in the mouth of the skull at the ship's bow, staring out over the sea. The black waves lapped at the ship, the only sign of their presence was the sound of them against the wood and the occasional flash as the moon's light was reflected in your direction. A light, salty breeze sent shivers through you, though it wasn't uncomfortably cold. You didn't take your eyes off the horizon, waiting for the first glint of light or the first emergence of a shape that would mean you were closer to catching up with the enemy. 

You had checked your log pose periodically, almost obsessively, to make sure the course of the ship was correct. You were in the weird limbo of being exhausted and yet not able to sleep in any meaningful way, maybe drifting off but waking up less than a second later. Settling on a semi-trance-like state, you rose and fell with Mini's breathing. The thoughts in your head kept circling back to all the ways you were going to make Giemsa suffer, all the ways you could prolong his agony. 

Before long, the pink tongues of light that signified dawn licked at the sky. You squinted at the horizon, looking for any sign of a ship. Nothing. 

Killer was on his way to the galley to make breakfast, noticing you as he did so. He caught Heat's attention as he came down from the crow's nest. It was shift change. Heat had been on night watch and would sleep after breakfast, while someone took his place in the crow's nest during the day. Killer gestured towards where you sat, "What's up with that?"

Heat shrugged, "She's been sitting there since midnight or so. Just sitting. Hasn't moved."

Killer nodded and dismissed him. He thought about asking you to help him in the kitchen, to get your mind off things, and perhaps for selfish reasons, too. However, after Kid had told him what transpired between the two of you, he figured you were probably still agitated. He didn't know you well, but he did know how much Kid irritated you. In fact, Kid would probably come bother you later on purpose specifically because he knew it irritated you. Killer sighed. He looked your way again before shaking his head and moving on to the kitchen.

Several times over the day, people came by to check up on what you were doing, but they were all deterred by the aura of wrath that sat heavily in the air around you. All but one, that is. Maybe he was even drawn in by it instead of deterred. You tried to ignore him, even though you knew he was there. He made it very hard by moving to stand directly in front of you, facing the sea, same as you were.

"Go. Away."

"Is that any way to talk to yer captain?" He said without turning to look at you.

"No. But you aren't my captain." Mini snorted, punctuating your sentiment. "Get out of the way. I can't see."

Now, he turned to face you, leaning against the railing. "Yer seein the only thing that matters, doll."

You knew he wasn't gonna move. He was trying to make you mad on purpose. It took a considerable effort not to play into his hand. "Whatever." You moved a few feet away from him to stand at the railing and continue your watch. 

Kid pulled a flask out and took a drink. He swished it towards you, "Want some?"

The offer was tempting. "No, I want all my senses sharp when I pull his heart out through his ass."

A bellowing laugh came from Kid. "Ya think yer gettin him first? Not a chance in hell. He's mine."

Your head whipped to look at him, "Excuse me?"

"He took my crew. He's mine." 

This time, he wasn't even deliberately trying, though you were pissed now. "I know you're fucking joking." You took a step towards him, fist balled like you were prepared to swing, and you were. "He's mine. I've been after him for far longer than you and for a better reason," you snarled. 

"And what reason would that be?" Kid challenged.

You turned back towards the sea and said nothing. Your nails dug into the railing. That part of you was for only you to know. Kid was far from the first person you would open up to about that. You channeled your anger back into thinking about all the ways you were going to eviscerate Giemsa. 

Kid stood there facing you, watching the knuckles on your hands turn white and your jaw setting. "Fine." Kid said shortly. "Ya get first and last." He held a hand out to shake on it. 

That was a shock. "What's the catch?" You were hesitant to accept this strange change of heart. 

Kid looked away and waved his hand dismissively. "Nothin. S'only cuz ya saved my crew." 

You nodded. That's basically a "thank you". You turned back to the water, without shaking his hand. 

He looked around to make sure no one saw him stand there awkwardly holding his hand out and quickly ran his hand through his hair. Kid lingered for a minute longer before turning to leave.

"Kid."

He looked back with a grunt, expecting some smartass remark. The captain grinned, however, when he saw that your finger was pointed in the direction of the horizon, where the faintest dot of a ship sat. 

Next Chapter

[ephemerasnape]

The sight that greeted Victor Rookwood as he exited the Hog's Head that fateful evening would be forever ingrained in his memory.

The street was dark and eerily quiet, and the dapper wizard had just taken a few steps outside the seedy pub before he realized something was amiss, causing him to stop abruptly and survey his surroundings.

"Lumos."

Continued below...

At first, Victor was more disoriented than anything - unsure that he could trust what he was seeing with his own eyes. The dark wizard blinked a few times in confusion before, slowly, he began to make sense of the gruesome display before him.

Heaps of... dirty rags? Someone has made rather a mess, it seems. . .

No. That's blood.

Blood and worse.

Before him was a scene of utter carnage the likes of which he'd never seen. A slaughter. The lifeless bodies of several young witches were splayed out in the middle of Spire Alley, a spectacle so macabre that even the dark wizard, well-accustomed to death, felt his stomach lurch at the sight.

A ginger witch lay eviscerated. Another's golden hair fanned around her angelic face like a halo. A brunette was positioned face down in a pool of her own blood. A strange-looking witch with odd-coloured hair... Victor shuddered as he recalled that one. He remembered her as having been particularly annoying.

And yet more still.

Sisters in death. Some he recognized outright, a vague familiarity to the rest. Their faces - doubtless once beautiful, now befouled by their own blood. Twisted limbs at grotesque angles. Internal organs now decidedly external.

Gods..

And in the center a... survivor? Victor tentatively stepped forward, perhaps even to offer a helping hand, as the pale witch clad in black gazed up at him adoringly.

"Victor.. I did it for you. For us."

Rookwood watched, horrified comprehension dawning on his face as the witch released a bloodied dagger she'd been holding. He barely registered the sound of the steel clattering to the cobblestone over the pounding of his heart.

"I love you, Victor."

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

Now a video.

[holocene-sims]

next // previous

september 1, 2021 6:15 p.m. basil's restaurant

ten minutes ago

[ktmurphy86] i might be a few minutes late, but i'm almost there.

grant scrolls through the metric ton of messages piling up in his notifications until he reaches the very end, and with a lump in his throat, opens it to respond. or like it. or send a thumbs up like a cool cucumber.

baby steps, he tells himself. one task at a time. the responses to all the messages from family, friends, and former co-workers inquiring about his exam results will come later.

just meet your sister first and–

“you seem different.”

he nearly jumps out of his skin as kelly’s high-pitched voice supersedes his thoughts.

“hopefully in a good way,” grant replies, looking up as he slides his phone off the table and into his back pocket.

it’s been nearly a decade since their last encounter, and he’d still recognize her from a mile away.

kelly’s hair is dyed platinum blonde like always, but now it’s twice as long, and her natural brunette locks–peeking through at the root–are streaked through with shocks of silver. her ice blue eyes are just as piercing, only underlined with tiny wrinkles. she’s still thin, too, but rather rail thin; her sweater dress seems to wear her more than she wears it.

“yes, in a good way.” kelly pulls out the chair opposite him and sits down with her arms wrapped across her waist. the candle between them casts a strange yellow glow over her wiry features. “you look better, much healthier.”

“uh, thank you. you look great as well.”

she half-smiles. “it’s just hair dye and botox. i look old. i didn’t inherit the ageless ó súilleabháin genes, so i'm going grey very early like all the callahans. by the way, you weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“oh, no, no, not at all. i have my car, but i didn’t want to deal with traffic, so i took the subway, but then that also kind of took a while. i pretty much just got here.”

“okay, good.” kelly pauses for a moment, her lips pursed. “well. i thought about what i'd say to you the whole ride over here, and now it’s all gone.”

for a moment, they exchange no other words. they drown in the silence, staring into each other’s eyes and into the past.

she’s surprisingly warm, all things considered. the last time they’d been in the same room–

grant is distracted again from his thoughts, watching as a strange sadness falls across her face. she reaches up at the collar of her dress and tug at it like it’s choking her, and her eyes then drift away to stare at an indistinct point on the table between them.

“it’s weird to see you again,” she admits suddenly, her gaze still fixated far away from him, “i didn’t think you’d message me back a few months ago.”

“to be honest, i didn’t mean to. i replied by accident one night and then just decided to follow through with talking to you. and now i'm here. yeah. um, anyway, why’d you reach out to me?”

“i was on facebook a couple months ago, and one of those ‘look at what you posted this day years ago’ things came up. it was a picture aunt bridget tagged us all in. it was the whole family at one of your high school hockey games, i think your freshman year state championship game.” kelly shrugs. “i didn’t even know any of those pictures were still there. that was a real surprise, given i unfriended and blocked everyone i'm related to on there when i left home after high school.”

grant nods. “a picture of me probably very sweaty and gross with helmet hair made you want to reach out to me?”

“not quite. my kids were with me at the time. we were in an airport coming back from vacation, so they were bored and nosy. ‘is that you? who are all these people?’ i was then immediately caught in my lie; i'd been telling them their whole lives i had no family left, and their only extended family was their dad’s parents.”

“yikes. i'm sure that was awkward.”

“it was,” kelly says plainly, “my oldest kids weren’t happy with the news. they’ve been, um, a little jealous of their friends for having lots of cousins and big family events for the holidays, and it didn’t go over well when they figured out they do have a big family. besides, they rightfully did see it as a betrayal of their trust. if mom lied once, what else might mom be lying about? the tooth fairy? santa claus? the easter bunny? yes, those, too. sorry. also, if you didn’t already guess based on my new last name, i married jack, and…”

“i figured you married him. you’d already been together a really long time even when i last saw you. we all grew up together, and you guys were middle school and high school sweethearts and all.”

“he’s a good guy. as i was about to say, though, jack is very partial to you. he always liked you. he thought you were a sweet kid, and he won’t let me forget what happened between us. so, after the facebook incident, he encouraged me to contact you, if only for the kids’ sake. after living in a huge family, i don’t think it’s all that fantastic, but he has a bit of a chip on his shoulder being an only child, and he doesn’t want the kids to have no one besides his parents in their lives. don’t get me wrong; i will never ever get involved in callahan or ó súilleabháin bullshit again, but i will consider reconnecting with you and letting you meet the kids.”

grant bites into his lip as that nagging anxious lump returns to his throat. “well, why me? why bother getting involved with any of us again after everything? even if it is for your kids, what's your motivation?"

kelly outright ignores his question. “tell me what you’ve been up to for the last, what, eight years? nine years? i don’t remember how long it’s been. you're at least talking to our dad, i hear.”

"how do you know that?"

"my in-laws may not know anything else about you these days, but they've seen you with him around our hometown."

[yanban-san]

I am getting Headcanons ready because I was thinkin' of writing something for a/b/o soon too ^^ Also I definitely didn't have to screenshot this anon really quickly because I posted the post too early and hadn't formatted anything yet

cw: Omegaverse, sfw, fluff, twins x reader, really rambly (I've not written anything omegaverse before and I am nervous)

Ω I picture their scents would actually be considered kind of unpleasant, especially in a world where people smell like flowers and spices and sugar and sweets- Both Ingo and Emmet perpetually smell like fuel and oil and sweat and iron and fire, which isn't much liked by most omegas.

Ω When relaxed, their scent is much more mellow and pleasant, though- Like fresh-cut lumber, coffee, or wood-smoke, or something heavily spiced. I think Ingo smells more like coffee and wood-smoke, whereas Emmet has a scent more like cinnamon and nutmeg and cloves- And both of them always have an underlying scent of iron and oil. Probably something to do with growing up and working around trains.

Ω Both of them are a little upset that so many omegas are turned off by their scent, and they don't have mates- Even though they're both very popular and accomplished trainers. They try not to let it bother them, but Emmet's woken up to himself nervously rubbing his wrists into his bed and wishing it was a cute little omega's nest, instead… Ingo is a hopeless romantic though and doesn't hide his sorrow half as well. He wistfully stares at couples and wishes he could've been a beta, if it would do anything to fix his scent problems.

Ω When they meet their darling omega, they're ecstatic, and can barely contain their excitement. An omega? Who doesn't hate their scent? They're also super nervous, and they have zero clue how best to catch your attention and interest.

Ω They suck at nest making, for the most part. They never learned, and so they follow your lead- They buy you lots of blankets, some pretty curtains, and any sort of lights or other things you'd like for your nest. They have a tendency to spoil you, but let them- They feel bad from not knowing how to make nests themselves.

Ω While they love you dearly, they act kind of distant- Scared to chase you off, nervous to show too much affection. You have to reassure them a lot that you really love them and want them, which is something new for them.

Ω They absolutely lose it if you ask them to scent something. Ingo gets wide eyed, and almost shocked. He gestures at himself, as if- No, you'd meant some alpha standing behind him. Once he gets over his shock, he's flustered and has wrapped the blanket or article of clothing around himself, trying to make it as Ingo-scented as possible. Emmet just beams with enthusiasm and snatches you and whatever you're holding into his embrace- Yes, he'll scent your clothing for you- And yourself.

Ω Ingo growls a lot, sometimes without even realizing it. He usually does it when he's holding you, or if he's in rut- Or in his sleep. Emmet typically whines at you. Ω Both of them are very clingy alphas, once they let themselves act more naturally around you. If you often sleep in your nest, they're pawing at the entrance to your abode- Two pitiful, half-undressed alphas almost whining at you to let them come in and cuddle, or join them in their beds for the night. If they ever catch you cuddling their clothing, they're melting and immediately jumping to join you- A coat is a poor substitute for your beloved alphas, after all.

Ω They like to spoil their omega. Not just in nest materials, but they'll probably want to take frequent baths with you, and treat you to nice things often. They practically parade you around with how much they love you and how much they take pride in being your alphas- Ingo will often take you to buy cute, comfy clothes- Emmet likes to treat you (and himself) to sweets. Ω They will also ask you to scent their own clothing! Especially their shirts, or the collars of their coats- Your scent is soothing and refreshing to them, especially if they're having a bad day.

Ω They love having you with them in Gear Station, and if Emmet spots you he practically runs up to scent you, kissing you and wrapping his arms around you. Ingo prefers to immediately invite you back to the office- He prefers to give his affections in private, unlike Emmet's PDA. If they're working and you're in their office, one of them might occasionally pull you in for a tight hug- Drinking in your scent, hearing your heart beat or your voice squeak in surprise.

Ω Cuddling you after a long day is something they love very very much- They put on a cool fan, or possibly two, or maybe three- and just lie around in bed or on the couch with you. Ingo gently rubbing his hands across your back, scenting you- And Emmet curling around you like a gremlin before he passes out.

[norcumii]

I read the Twilight books once – I think it was some time after the third one came out, and a very nice lady who shared a bus stop with me had nothing else to talk about except her new favorite books. She even gave me a copy, and I was willing to read ‘em. It was a nice gesture, and I was pretty deep into the realms of depression and such where anything that might be a distraction was welcome.

I honestly don’t recall much of the stalking and other classic bits people reference as horrible – I’m sure that’s a direct result of said depression. The thing I remember most is the part that enraged me, the one thing that often made me toss my kindle aside and pace about in utter frustration.

Y’see, at that time I had also JUST been learning how to drive stick. Something like within two years at most, I had gone from a what was only technically a driver to having to know how to drive a manual – with training, at least. (Though mainly in Pittsburgh. That was more the trial by fire.) And the thing you need to understand is that I do remember Stephanie Myer went into excessive detail about cars.

And apparently the sparkly vampires liked their fellow antiques old cars. Or fancy speedy bullshit, where manual gearing is considered classy, more precise and more high brow (I also used to have a friend who was really into cars who told me these things). Bella *checks notes to make sure that’s the right name* goes into MASSIVE detail about how her dad got her HER VERY OWN VEHICLE and it was suuuuuuch a let down because it was an old clunker of a truck.

Me? I was ecstatic. I was going to see a character learning to drive stick! Or at least a nod would have to be made towards “Good thing I learned to drive that tractor that one summer!” or some such excuse and that would make me feel awesome about how yes, this is a relatable element of Growing Up and Adulting!

N O T H I N G.

Not.

ONE.

Single.

Word.

I was baffled. Then I was furious. It wasn’t even that I felt cheated, it was that this was such a basic thing that nevermind sparkly vampires or werewolves, an utter lack of mentioning the challenges of driving stick for a new driver, even in the slightest passing, was utterly world breaking to me. No immersion for me, it was just GONE.

Oh, I read all of the first two books (though the second one was more because I had Theories about the weird maybe telepathy and shit that was really just depressive hallucinations or something bizarrely lame like that?). Or, more accurately, I speed-read through those bastards, desperate to get to the next part where cars were described in excessive detail BUT THE ACTUAL EXPERIENCE OF DRIVING STICK – OR NOT, SINCE SHE’D BE USED TO A MANUAL DUE TO HER SUPPOSED SHITTY PICKUP – WAS NEVER EVER ONCE MENTIONED.

I didn’t bother reading the third book, because it was clear by then that it just wasn’t gonna happen.

Anyway. Give this somewhat irrational obsession pet peeve of mine, I suppose it shouldn’t surprise me that I just ragequit a book where a bunch of superheroes were on a runaway train without sufficient e-brakes only ELECTRONICALLY CONTROLLED from a mere three points across a WHOLE DAMN COMMUTER TRAIN which is your most significant form of travel in the Near Future.

I DON’T CARE HOW FAR IN THE POST-APOCALYPTIC FUTURE YOU ARE, THERE’S STILL GONNA BE SOME KIND OF NTSB EQUIVALENT ESPECIALLY IF YOU STILL HAVE ENOUGH OF A MURICA TO HAVE A CIVIL WAR FOR GODS’ SAKE AND THEY’RE STILL GONNA HAVE REGULATIONS SO THIS SORT OF SHIT DON’T HAPPEN! That’s not how vehicles should fail! Yes I checked wikipedia to make sure this wasn’t somehow a horrific failure in current design I didn’t want to imagine! And for crying out loud, I understand that the characters are teenagers and panicking, but teenagers are vicious (affectionate), and if your friend has an adaptive mutation that evolves depending on the danger of a situation then you learn to step up and shove your friend off the speeding train.

[mortifying-macaroni]

Yes, I do know other VTM characters exist. When will I draw them? ...Eventually

[artnerd1123]

what da dice doin

((extras under the cut))

the image used for the polaroid frame is from unsplash, nd the background is straight up a dicey dungeons backdrop from the game

here's the non-polaroid and og meme images!

[necrotic-nephilim]

your Kon post was sooooo good, like yes the core four are queer platonic, however Kon is hypersexual enough to have made out with (or more) everyone in young justice at least once, yes, including the non-corporal Greta don’t ask me how that worked

I love all of these posts!!! how many of these ask game things do you have in your inbox??

thank you so much!! and i ABSOLUTELY agree with you on hypersexual Kon (truly i just adore characters with grooming/rape trauma like Kon coping through the lense of hypersexuality) and even if YJ is queerplatonic, Kon has made his way through most of them. including Greta. he's creative he'd find a way. probably involving TTK. bc TTK in sex is a thought i have daily. endless potential for using it to basically turn someone's body into a living fleshlight he can manipulate from the inside out- specifically have a TimKonBart idea in my head about that where Kon coaches Bart through sex, since Bart is a speedster with a bonkers refractory period who struggles to feel satisfied, and Tim is caught between them getting used to get Bart off with Kon using TTK to manipulate Tim's body. fun times. fun ideas.

currently, i have one more ask game ask in my inbox (tho always feel free to send more!) that's BruJay focused. though i *do* also have a couple other asks that are just ideas i pan to use as prompts for full fics. just haven't gotten to those yet bc i'm currently busy with packing to move states so. i have *not* had the time to write i wish i had. i will not reveal too much but one involves JayTim fucking during the Titans Tower incident, another is JayTim with animal traits leading to porn, and then another is Tim/Kon/Jon with incest kink stuff. so! i have many things planned, i just need to settle into my new place, however long that takes.

[ninja-knox-ur-sox-off]

SO funny story... I've got some technical difficulties (i.e my entire computer is getting so hot you could cook an egg on it if i use it for more than an hour :'D) which sadly means I'm not able to do any digital drawing SO RIP ME IG