#well- skid and pump are mentioned-

[dexter-doll]

Here I Come [SM + ROBLOX DOORS AU]

heehoo dont mind me

oh and also TW for body horror-ish? idk-

Dexter had little to NO idea how he ended up in this situation. First, he ended up in a Happy Fella doll AGAIN. Second, he seemed to be trapped in a hotel with the people from the town, along with that purple haired bitch, along with her son and her son’s friend. Third, there’s monstrous creatures wanting to kill them. And fourthly, those people went ahead of him and he couldn’t catch up so he was lost.

‘’Great. FUCKING FANTASTIC.’’ He thought to himself as he continued down the hallways and doors. He had to hide in closets most of the time due to Rush and Ambush. He glanced behind himself in case Screech was there. He hated that thing as much as he hated that purple haired bitch and those two children.

He reached a long hallway, he kept a knife on hand in case things got dire. The moment he was almost at the door, something behind him caught his attention. It didn’t sound like Rush. It didn’t sound like Screech. It sounded like something else. He turned around to come face to face… With that purple haired woman? That couldn’t be right. He was sure she got ahead of him like everyone else.

That… And the fact she had only one eye. “Hello? Sorry about leaving you behind.. And the incident..” The Lila-look-alike spoke. That was new, but also strange. “Why are you sorry now, you motherfucker?!” He yelled. “I didn’t know it was you, Dexter.” It spoke. He backed away as it tilted its head. “What’s wrong?” It asked. “You… You aren’t that dumb bitch..!” He retorted, causing it to have a reaction.

Its form melted to complete black. It wasn’t Lila. It was one of the monsters residing in the hotel. Seek. He wasn’t showing it, but he was genuinely afraid. Was he going to die again? He wasn’t taking his chances, so he ran for the door, just as the monster uttered one last sentence. “Ready Or Not.. Here I Come.”

Then it ran STRAIGHT at him, causing his non-existent heart to pound in fear as he ran from Seek. He wasn’t going to risk it. Not now. Not ever.

[formulawolff]

v. heat of the moment - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.9k

warnings: cursing, some mentions of misogyny, a physical altercation, slight physical injury, teasing, banter, YEARNING, there is lots of yearning, toto wanting to rail the absolute shit out of you, power imbalances, age gap, yadayadayada

prev. | next.

“you ready?” 

james peers down, towering over the car as the pit crew flurries around, prepping for the race. 

you shrug, flipping your visor, “is it too patriotic of me to say that i was born ready?” 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

“well i’ll do you one better,” the team principal leans over the car, slapping your helmet a couple of times, “go get ‘em tiger.” 

“way to hype me up.” 

“i think another podium is in the cards,” james’ face hardens, the intensity of the race setting in, “you think you could get us on the podium again?” 

“i don’t know about first. they don’t refer to max as the dutch assassin for nothing,” at least you were realistic, “but i think i could place second or third.” 

“i think we should aim for first.” 

underneath the helmet, the corners of your lips curl into a grin, “i think so too.” 

“i believe in you,” james’ hand finds yours, shaking it, “we all believe in you.” 

the authenticity of his statement sends a slight wave of distress washing over you. 

ever since the night in jeddah, your loyalty was beginning to shift. 

you were starting to seriously consider toto’s offer. 

although you made the verbal commitment to james that you would remain with williams until 2026, a certain team principal was starting to tug at your heartstrings. of course, this team principal didn’t have to try very hard. 

even the slightest smile was enough to send you spiraling. 

the turmoil was enough to keep you up at night, tossing and turning. there was really no legitimate reason you could give james on your departure, other than it was your teenage dream to drive for mercedes. 

you would have to lie through your teeth and attempt to put on this facade that you had always wanted to be with mercedes. you just happened to settle for williams. 

fuck, that really made you the asshole. 

now, here you were. 

day-dreaming about a certain team principal, completely on autopilot. 

yet, that quickly faded as you glance up, watching as the lights blink, that green hue gleaming in the sunlight. 

it was go time. 

now or never. 

the roar of the engines is nearly deafening as it fills the track, blood roaring in your ears as you step on the gas.

for the australian grand prix, you were fifth on the grid. it wasn’t a terrible spot, as you had the opportunity to overtake a few places, which would earn you a podium. 

behind you, was george russell from mercedes, lewis hamilton in seventh. ahead were max, sergio, charles, and carlos. 

overtaking the ferrari boys would be a challenge, but you were more than willing to accept it. if you were able to just overtake carlos, you would be content with fourth. 

even if you weren’t on the podium, those points would be significant. 

closing in on carlos, adrenaline pumped in your veins as your sucked in a breath, james voice flooding your ears on the radio. 

“you got this. go for it.” 

the moment you’re about to step on the gas, a horrendous scraping noise sounds to your left. 

george made contact with your car, sending the two of you flying towards the tarmac. you skid along, bracing for impact as you barrel towards the wall. 

although it was merely seconds, it felt like eternity. 

for a moment, your field of vision goes black. 

yet, you blink, the sun so vivid as it shines through your visor. shaking your head, you groan as you clamber out of the car, scrambling to your feet. 

swiveling your helmet, you make out george. 

that’s when everything started to become tinged with a crimson hue. 

“you bastard!” 

“oh?” george taunts you, “this was my fault?” 

“of course it fucking was!” you march over to the british driver, “learn how to fucking drive the damn car!” 

“learn how to overtake somebody else and we would have never had this fucking problem!” george retaliates, his voice raising with every word. 

you just scoff, deciding to let it go. 

accidents happen. unfortunately for you, it was just part of the job. it may have cost you a podium, gave your car significant damage, and ruined your day, but you had to let it go. it was just a bad day at the office. 

well, more like a fucking awful shit day at the office.

as you suck in a breath, strolling away from george, he decides to goad you on even further, giving one final retort. 

“you should have stuck to nascar! maybe then it would have been easier for you to navigate a bloody track!” 

you stop in your tracks, glancing over your shoulder. 

“what did you just fucking say?” 

“you heard me,” george folds his arms over his chest, “you should have stuck to fucking nascar. maybe then that thick skull of yours would have been able to navigate the track! it’s pretty bloody simple you know, just a few left turns!” 

that was the moment when everything truly went dark. 

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“do you know how much today cost us?” 

james is to your right, massaging his temples. however, you can’t quite decipher the emotions plastered across his features.

was he disappointed? furious? you couldn’t tell. 

alex is across from you, chewing on a thumbnail, “i mean, things could have been worse.” 

“we literally had to pry her off of him,” james exhales, groaning slightly, “it’s a mess. that’s what it is. a fucking mess.” 

“i think you guys are forgetting he started it,” you mumble, pressing an ice pack to your jaw, “he told me i should’ve stuck to nascar. i mean, what would you have done in that moment?” 

“walked away? called him a twat or something?” james shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut, “you know i adore you, but you really fucked us over today. my driver getting into a physical altercation with another team was the last thing on my agenda today. yeah, the accident was bad, but that… that was awful.” 

“hey,” alex puts his hands up, “at least i didn’t crash my car.” 

“fuck off,” you shoot him a glare, “also, i wouldn’t call that an accident. it was more like a little skirmish.” 

“you beating his ass wasn’t,” alex points out, his tone laced with a tease, “i gotta admit, that was pretty entertaining to watch.” 

“i taught that bitch one thing today. and it’s that you don’t mess with texas,” a laugh bubbles up in your throat, earning a chuckle from alex in response. 

“what am i going to do with you two?” although he tries to remain stern, you can see a hint of a smile on james’ face. 

“i think i deserve some rest,” raising your arms above your head, you use your hands as a cushion, leaning backwards, “i put in a lot of work today.” 

“yeah,” alex nods, “a lot of work beating that brit’s ass.” 

“do you think he’s scared of me?” 

“i think everyone is,” alex rolls his eyes playfully, “if i was max verstappen, i would be shaking in my boots right now.” 

“okay, okay,” james interjects, “enough from you both. we can discuss this further tomorrow. i’m exhausted.” 

“you weren’t even the one throwing the punches!” alex tosses his hands up in the air, “if anyone if exhausted, it’s probably our wwe superstar over here!” 

“go,” james waves a hand at the two of you, “like i said, we’ll talk more tomorrow. i have to do damage control for the rest of the night. probably well into tomorrow too.” 

“i am sorry,” you clear your throat, rising to your feet. you make eye contact with alex, who is still bearing a mischievous grin, “i guess that australian heat just got to me.” 

“i cannot take you two seriously right now,” james sighs, “go. get some rest.” 

unlike james’ dismissal, you did not have to be told that twice. 

after george’s snide remarks, you caved under the heat of the moment. with emotions running high, you sprung forward at the british driver, shoving him a couple of times. he goaded you on, taunting you to “actually do something about it.” 

of course, you actually did something about it. 

what could you say? it was the american way. 

there was no way in hell you were going to let him off the hook. especially after he demanded that you “go back to nascar.” those comments were completely unnecessary and uncalled for. anyone could admit that. 

so, in response, you knocked him to the ground, throwing a few good punches in before a safety crew member pried you off of him. 

the little “skirmish” with the mercedes driver had taken the formula one world by storm. 

all over social media, there were mixed reactions. many of the comments praised you for not taking anyone’s shit. the others blasted your character, questioning if women truly belonged in formula one if they “let their emotions get the best of them.” 

numerous fans called for your resignation from williams driving, claiming that you had no right to be behind the wheel of a car. 

the fia claimed they would be launching an investigation to determine if there were to be punishments for both drivers. mercedes put out a statement that they would be “thoroughly addressing the incident that occurred with one of their drivers.” 

meanwhile, williams racing had yet to comment on the matter, remaining silent. 

personally, you felt that the sheer embarrassment from your outburst was enough. you would be the topic of discussion for weeks. your personality, likeness, and every somewhat terrible thing you had ever done would be dissected throughout reddit forums, through tik toks, and through instagram posts. 

surely the fia would remain merciful, but you had your doubts. 

pulling up the hood on your sweatshirt, you make your way in the direction of your motorhome. 

at least that would provide you a space away from all of the chaos that ensued after the race. 

in your pocket, your phone buzzes. 

reluctantly, you fish it out, anticipating your name to be headlining yet another article. instead, it’s a message from mr. wolff.

i’m on my way over. be there in five. 

oh fuck.

toto wolff was the last person you wanted to see. 

especially after today. 

flinging open the door, you trudge into the space, dumping your belongings on the counter. making your way to your room, you flop on the bed, resisting the urge to scream into your pillow. 

not even a minute later, you hear a familiar voice filling the motorhome. 

“don’t tell me you’re hiding from — oh, there you are.” 

“i don’t want to talk about it.” 

“i think we should.” 

his tone is far different than you anticipated. you expected him to be furious, dropping the offer entirely. 

rather, his words are quiet, laced with a softness as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing a tender hand on your back. 

“rough day, huh?” 

“rough is not even the word to describe the absolute shitshow that was today,” your head is still buried in the pillow, your voice muffled, “you have no idea how disappointed i am in myself.” 

“i’m sure,” toto inhales sharply, “i hope you know that what occurred today does not change anything. actually, it’s convinced me that you deserve that mercedes seat even more than i initially thought.” 

“toto,” you lift your head up, “i literally physically assaulted another driver. a driver who happens to belong on your team. i don’t deserve that seat.” 

“well it simply proved to me that you’re more than willing to stand up for what you believe in,” he counters, that gentleness dissolving into firmness, “you don’t take anyone’s shit. i need that energy brought into mercedes.”

“i think if you gave me that seat, george would actually shit himself.”

“don’t fret baby,” a hand finds your hair, fingers smoothing out some strands, “i would be your mediator.”

“are you sure you still want to offer me that seat? do you know how much the media is going to ridicule you?”

“i think i have been ridiculed enough in my time at mercedes,” he shrugs, “what’s a little bit more? if it means i have you, nothing else will matter.”

shifting your weight, you sit up, scooting over a little so that you could be next to toto. leaning your head on his shoulder, you nuzzled into his dress shirt, his arm instinctively wrapping around your frame, “today just fucking sucked.”

“i can only imagine baby,” light kisses pepper your temple, trailing all over the bridge of your nose and the apples of your cheeks, “i could help take your mind off things.”

“i’m sure you could,” your heart skips a beat as his hand squeezes your thigh, “i wish you could just make it all go away.”

“i could definitely do that, sweet girl,” his hand inches further and further up your thigh, fingers tracing circles, “you want me to take care of you?”

yet, as his mouth hovers around your ear, a flash of pain seeps into your skull, causing you to wince. 

“fuck.”

“what’s wrong?” 

“my head hurts,” you whimper, “after i hit the wall, i think i may have passed out for a second. everything went black, i couldn’t see anything.”

“and you didn’t have a medic clear you?” toto presses, and you can’t help but notice the inflections of worry, “baby, you should have had someone look at you.”

“i was more focused on other things,” you mumble, the pain beginning to increase, “fuck.”

“you’re probably just a little banged up from the crash. if your symptoms continue through the morning, we’ll get you checked out.”

“we?”

“well,” he pauses, biting his tongue, “i would say i would take you to our medic, but i think that would raise some eyebrows. make sure you see someone, okay?”

before you know it, toto is to his feet, towering over you on the edge of the bed, “where are your pajamas?”

“you don’t have to–”

"i want to,” he interrupts, “let me help, okay? you don’t have to do everything yourself, you know that?”

“but i’m used to–”

“and i need you to know that while i’m here, you do not have to worry about that anymore. i’m going to take care you. anything that you need, you’ll get,” he brushes a lock of hair away from your forehead. 

you melt, nearly collapsing under his touch as he caresses your cheek. wrapping your arms around his thigh, you nuzzle into his hip. 

meanwhile, the team principal is about to crumple to his knees at the sight of you. fuck, you were so cute. why were you so goddamn cute?

even after assaulting one of his drivers, you were still pretty damn cute. he was not lying when he said it made you more attractive. 

he needed someone to be that passionate about their team, their driving, and their beliefs. he needed someone who could take a stand against another driver without backing down. he needed someone who didn’t give a fuck. 

he needed you. 

fuck, he needed you. 

in the moments the two of you were apart, he could barely process his thoughts. you were consuming his mind whole. he clung to your words, your voice, so sweet and soft, flooding his ears when you weren’t around. he found himself checking his phone more frequently, in attempts to see if you had responded. 

lately, it seemed every time he thought about racing, his mind brought him to you. 

he was addicted to you. 

“how about some head?” 

your inquiry takes him by surprise, his jaw clenching, heart racing, “oh? does my baby need some?”

“it may help ease my headache,” you glance upwards, the team principal fighting back a groan as filthy fantasies begin to creep into his thoughts. 

the sight of you looking up at him like that? with those lashes framing those stunning eyes? with your lips looking oh so plush? 

fuck, toto felt his knees nearly buckle.

there was no denying he wanted you. he craved you. often.

he desperately ached to feel you, to know what you felt like as he made you his. he yearned to feel that perfect pussy on his tongue as you bucked your hips, crying out for more. he wanted more than anything, to hear you beg. you probably looked oh so pretty when you begged. 

that night in jeddah, you were so fucking wet. you had nearly coated his fingers with it all. and it was all for him? 

“toto,” the way his name fell from your lips was like heaven itself, “will you stay tonight?”

“of course,” he nods, his voice nearly faltering as your hand massages his thigh, “f-fuck.”

“what?” you coo, meeting his gaze once more, “what is it, baby?”

baby. 

he was going to fuck the shit out of you. 

the buzz of a phone in his pocket startles you, earning a flinch. as it rings, the team principal lets out a string of curses, and you infer it was more than likely german. bringing the phone to his ear, he takes a step back, strolling over to the corner of the room. 

sighing, you roll on your side, back facing the team principal. 

the call was only about a minute, yet felt like an eternity.

“don’t tell me you’re pouting over there.”

“maybe i am.”

the bed dips underneath his weight, your heart fluttering as you feel his presence. the team principal is on top of you now, pinning you to the bed. 

“well quit it.”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

taglist: @toldyouitwasamelodrama @nebarious @whoisss @kravitzwhore @prettiest-at-the-party

[peeweekey]

sweet like

word count: 1.5 k

synopsis: love confessions are not easy, having nosy neighbours isn’t either—but loving sam is different, it’s as easy as breathing.

a/n: samson my beloved, youre allergic to pollen but accepted my bouquet anyway. 😔❤️

edit: sweet like is now on ao3! here

today’s the day, you’re really going to do it. no ifs or buts.

you swear you will, but damn if it isn’t messing with your head. it’s definitely the nervousness or heat stroke symptoms causing the overly-conscious way you regard all other shoppers in pierre’s general store. you feel the uneven, erratic thrum of your pulse underneath your skin.

your hands are cold and clammy and disgustingly sweaty as a bright bouquet of tulips, poppies, sweet peas and fairy roses is unceremoniously slid across the store counter and bundled into your arms. the smell is dizzyingly perfumed. pierre doesn’t bat an eye though the knowing glint just tells you that he knows.

you and sam have been friends for as long as you started living in the valley. he’s a literal ball of sunshine compacted into a 5’10 body, and he’s sweet—maybe at times a little sloppy and forgetful but those quirks make him all the more lovable—to you.

and you admit yes, you did have a crush on him—and after watching his band’s performance in zuzu city, it got even worse. suddenly the ignition jump started the thrum of your heart—beating at race car speeds at the mere mention of his name. restless and anxious

so, here you are, buying a bouquet (one you could surely make yourself, but according to abigail buying this exact one is town tradition) at 10 am in the morning, in front of all your nosy neighbours.

you clutch the flowers tighter to your chest as caroline cranes her neck to take a peek. slowing down as she restocks the shelves. shameless, these people are sharks to blood when it comes to gossip.

you shoot her a wary glare, lips pursed together. pushing open the door to the shop, the little entrance bell rings with your exit.

after your realization, you see the world through rose-tinted glasses, the skies seem brighter and clearer, with soft fluffy clouds suspended in them. the breeze is soft and refreshing, while the sun is a comforting warmth at your back.

not even a few steps past the stardrop saloon do you feel any different.

adrenaline pumps through your veins as you see a flash of familiar spiked-up golden hair in your periphery. you feel your breath stutter as you reflexively stuff the delicate bouquet in your pack and snap it shut.

you turn your back, clutching a hand to your chest—you feel your heart racing underneath your fingertips as well as the heat rising up your skin. it’s fine, you reason, you’ll play it off as sunburn.

you slap at your cheeks, encouragingly.

the aforementioned man, skates towards you, calling your attention. turning, you nod your head in greeting, offering him a less than wobbly smile.

you wait until the skateboard skids to a stop, sam stops a few feet from you. his breaths slightly labored from the effort, he’s still as bright and cheery as ever

“sam,” you cringe as your voice cracks into an awkward pitch. he perks up at the mention of his name, giving you an enthusiastic wave. you swallow the lump forming in your throat.

“hey farmer,” he smiles, sam sets one of his feet down from on his skateboard. “it’s really bright out today. what’cha up to?”

“i was looking for you, actually.”

“and i’m here!” he replies before sheepishly adding. “that’s a coincidence. i was going to go visit you—well, before i forgot.”

“really,” your stomach traitorously flutters. “what for?”

“to give you something,” he says breezily, sam digs around in his pant pockets, seemingly looking for something. “i swear i have the thingy in here somewhere..”

you watch as he fumbles around looking for the thingy. Your mind drifts to the scrunched up bouquet sitting in your pack. you hadn’t expected running into him so soon—

maybe, you think. you aren’t as ready as you think.

“ahh, here it is!”

sam fishes out a rectangular shaped object from his back pocket, its slim and clear. you tilt your head in curiosity and he smiles wider.

“a cassette of the band’s song,” he tells you, grabbing your limp hand to stuff it into your palm. “listen to it! you have a cassette player on your farm, right?”

the momental brush of his hand against yours has you stumbling over your mess of thoughts and feelings. it is a little pathetic, to be acting like a lovesick teenager again—you groan to yourself. “yeah, i do.”

the cassette is light in your palm, the hard plastic case is covered in sharpied lightning bolts and smiley faces—along with the careful engraving of your name. the hand drawn designs are wonky and childlike (you suspect he asked vincent to draw them), but it’s yours.

he made this for you.

you feel the giddy warmth spread all throughout your body—concentrated in your chest and stomach which twists with some emotion you’re too confused to name.

“i couldn’t find you after the performance,” he confesses. you peek up from the cassette at his face—his cheeks are bright pink with bashfulness. “it was too crowded, i wanted to give you the first sample recording.”

standing on willow street in front of his family house with the sun beating down on you, sweat dripping down your temple, flowers haphazardly stuffed into your backpack. you’re literally buzzing with energy—the warmth, inside and out, is making your head spin.

you feel your mouth moving before you can even register what you’re saying, feverish words tumble out.

voice a tad strangled, you rasp. “sam.”

he looks down at his skateboard, his attention; short and slipping away. “yeah?”

“be my boyfriend.”

“sure!” he pauses, processing what you said, his eyes whip back up to stare into yours—wide and so, so blue. “waaait.. wuuh—”

“i was—uh, do you want to know why i wanted to visit you today?” you ramble on, tracing the cassette case edges with sweaty fingers. the beat of your heart is a resounding thumping sound in your eardrums. “actually, this is not how i planned things, but got nervous, you make me nervous.”

you shrug off your backpack, the heavy weight of it that once was grounding you groaned as it hit the ground. you open the flap and produce the now crumpled flowers—stems bent and broken, petals missing but the smell is still overwhelmingly sweet. you hold out the bouquet to him with shaky fingers, the cassette held in your other hand clasped behind your back.

“—i wanted to make this a little more special…” you sigh nervously, eyes squeezed shut while your bottom lip is chewed between worrying teeth. “it’s all crumpled, sorry…”

“i think this is plenty special already.”

you feel as he moves closer, plucking the flowers out of your hands. now, there’s barely any space between the both of you. your eyes snap open, mouth slightly gaping as he takes a long sniff full of flowers.

your heart sings for joy as he does—but the concerningly wet sneeze he lets out makes you furrow your brow in realization.

he’s goddamn allergic.

your eyes widen, reaching for the flowers. “sam, you’re allergic to pollen!”

your fingers barely brush the stems when he pull the flowers away from you. sam laughs, bright and pure—one that sounds like it came deep from his gut. you flush deeper in embarrassment, and a little in confusion.

“so? you gave me these. i like them!”

“i can’t believe it slipped my mind,” you cringe. “don’t keep them! the stems are all twisted and broken anyway.”

he sneezes again, shaking his head petulantly, his nose pinkened with irritation, a small sound of mortification exits your mouth. how can you be so forgetful?

digging through your backpack, you grab the small pack of tissues you usually use to dab off sweat easily. you take one out of the pack and stretch it out towards him.

instead of your offered tissue, sam grabs you by the wrist, tugging you to him. you follow with not much of a fight, a confusing mixture of nervous and giddy energy you’ve become. he holds you still against him, his arms coming behind you to wrap the both of you together tightly.

you go limp against him, head buried his shoulder. you think, you fit together perfectly.

“by the way, i like you too.” he murmurs into your hair. “a lot more than you think i do.”

“even if i forgot you were allergic to flowers?”

he snorts, leaving a chaste peck on your forehead, you feel your cheeks flush. “especially because you forgot, it was kinda funny.”

your head shoots up, nearly bumping his chin. “sam!”

he laughs and you can’t help but smile in return. your gaze returns to the sky, and suddenly you can’t quite recall what you were so worried about. really, life in stardew valley has never been so bright.

(and if you see some of your neighbors watching at the corner of your eye, you shut your eyes to ignore them.)

[eatyourmaker]

The ocs I previously mentioned

Esther and Estella, the twin stars.

Both are dead, and have been sacrificed to the eyes

Now they cast a haunting presence over the town, mainly the old mansion on the hill, the forest and Skid's house.

They were traumatized in their death, and so often end up scaring people in accident by lashing out and causing some serious hauntings. But they're good girls at the end of the day and would get along well with Skid and Pump.

They have a crippling fear of adults though

I don't even have to state the source of inspiration for these two, y'all already know 😭

[izvmimi]

cw: minors dni. no actual smut but like a lot of allusion to sex. minor violence. this is definitely a crackfic.

There are few things you remember from the house party you had last night, but a few things are certain - one, you and Atsumu fucked, two, you and Atsumu really fucked, the type of sweaty, passionate and nasty fucking that you’ve been hoping to do since you first got to flirting and cheeky banter, and three, you’re still slightly hungover, having stumbled out of his apartment to get to work before he even woke the next morning. He was cute even slumbering, you remember, smiling as you start to recount some of the most savory parts of last night's session, toes practically curling in your heels as you stack up your papers to pack up for home. Your work day came to a close sooner than you could imagine, and Atsumu has already invited you on another date for this evening, this time at one of the nicest places in town. Perks of dating a professional athlete, of course.

There’s just one thing you have to make sure you take care of first, and that is, retrieve a pair of scarlet lace panties, likely on his bedroom floor. You’d been mortified at first when you realized you couldn't find them, but somehow throughout the course of the day your friends convinced you that it was sexy more than anything to leave them behind for someone who was that into you. You had to admit that it was odd that Atsumu made no mention of them in your texts, but when you make it there before you head out to dinner together, you could make use of the flirty exchanges practiced in your head.

—

Atsumu is out, sneaking in a 1 hour training session and a couple mile jog when he gets a text.

Where are you right now?

It’s not from you, but from Kiyoomi’s girlfriend, rather. This surprises him enough to skid to a quick stop. He remembers cleaning the house properly before leaving, but sometimes Sakusa can be really particular, even if his partner has managed to convince him to be less meticulous over time. There shouldn't be a problem with the post-party cleanup. 

But Kiyoomi can just text him whenever he wants; he doesn’t have to go through her. Atsumu scratches his head but texts her back.

Jogging? He texts. What’s up?

Honestly, you should just keep doing that until Omi calms down because if he sees you, you’re dead.

Atsumu looks up and he’s already just a few feet from their apartment. He scoffs, then slips his phone back in his pocket. She’s known to be dramatic anyway and he’s still sweaty and has a date to prepare for in a little over a half hour anyway. He jogs up the stairs, congratulating himself on his pump, knowing his arms and shoulders will look extra good in his fit later on today.

As soon as he makes it just two steps from the front of the door, it swings wide open, enough that the handle opens and hits the opposite wall with a crack and his seething, red-faced roommate grabs him by the collar. 

“What the-”

“WHOSE ARE THESE?!”

Kiyoomi is far stronger than he looks, and in Atsumu’s confusion he lets out a yelp, as Kiyoomi practically lifts him off the ground and thrusts a pair of soiled panties in his face, enough to make him sputter in shock. When he finally lets go, Atsumu swatting at him, the bottle blond stumbles back and he can see Kiyoomi’s partner slip into view behind his roommate from the door, her face in a frown and arms crossed over her chest. The sight of her pisses him off more.

“I did tell you to take another lap,” she murmurs. Atsumu glares at her, but his attention shifts back to Kiyoomi who throws the burgundy garment back at him.

"Whose fucking panties are these?!"

“I don’t know where these are from man?!” Atsumu yells, throwing them back. Sakusa dodges, then bucks at him, fists up before his girlfriend shrieks his name and grabs hold of his arm, begging him to relax.

“Stop!”

Sakusa whips around quickly to glare at her as well and she frowns. 

“What do you mean, stop!? You just chewed me out for nearly half an hour and now you’re acting like I’m unreasonable???”

She pouts, embarrassed, but then sighs. “Okay, how would you react if some random dude’s jockstrap was in my apartment? How am I supposed to guess it’s your roommate’s?”

“Who just wears jockstraps? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Don’t make fun of my analogies!”

Atsumu looks back and forth between the two of them, still confused, but then it clicks and his eyes widen.

“Oh…” he starts but Sakusa’s dark eyes snap back at him. 

“Don’t say oh like you don’t know what happened, I’ll knock your fucking teeth in,” he hisses. Atsumu reels but then flashes of what exactly happened last night run through his mind and it clicks.

He… didn’t take your intense makeout session into his room.

It wasn’t his room, it was Kiyoomi’s.

The dresser you leaned on while taking backshots? Not his. The mirror through which he watched your ass bounce up and down his cock? Also not his. The bedsheets you twisted and came over and over again on? Not his! He must have fucked you on every single surface… not one of them his.

“Fuck,” is all that he manages to make out. Sakusa glares, but by now he’s calmed down, and his girlfriend has managed to sheepishly rub his shoulder into calm behavior. 

“I’m getting a hotel tonight and you’re paying for it.” Sakusa turns on his heels, taking his girlfriend’s hand, and the door slams. Atsumu is left to look at a pair of scarlet panties sit forlornly in the corner. 

He has to admit. They are a sexy pair.

—

Atsumu meets you outside his apartment, just moments after Sakusa has sped off in his car, and he’s dressed but visibly distressed. You smile at him but notice his unrest.

“Hey.”

Your heart pounds. Maybe he didn’t think the panty drop-off was cute? 

He doesn’t seem upset though. He gives you a weak smile back, then pecks you on the cheek before handing you a parcel in a brown paper bag. Your stomach turns.

“I.. uh, think you left something last night,” he says in a small voice.

Shit.

“Yeah.. uh… sorry.”

The two of you stand in front of each other, bashfully. You let your hand run through your hair, then smile. 

“I thought it would be cute,” you start explaining before regretting it. Atsumu offers you yet another weak grin.

“It would have been… if uh, it were the right room.”

[dismissivedestroyer]

Skid and Pump have absolutely ZERO self preservation skills, so they would have befriended Dexter in a HEARTBEAT. "Oh, weird guy with very creepy vibes that often mentions he needs to kill or else he'll lose his mind, that works as an exterminator, and knows 14 different ways to eradicate cockroaches? Sure, seems spooky enough, let's go pester him!"

And Dexter, poor Dexter usually keeps himself far away from children. Despite his therapist telling him he's fine and he's handling his intrusive thoughts so well, he still doesn't trust himself around people in general, let alone children. He's too scared he might end up hurting someone. So when these two hyperactive kids appear out of nowhere while he's working, start asking him questions about his job, enthusiastically share some spooky facts themselves, and don't seem put off by Dexter's poor socialization skills and odd behaviour, Dexter is SO HAPPY. He self-appoints himself as their Honorary Uncle Figure, and very dramatically vows to keep them safe from anything weird that happens in Town. Cue him almost picking fight with Ignacio soon after.

[so-sures-blog]

Pirate Jaya AU

Summary: There are three things Jay Walker knows right now in this point of his life. Number one: He hates pirates. Trapped on Nadakhan’s ship for a year, he has had enough of them for a lifetime. Number two: He is going to escape. Sure, his plans to do so are ducktaped together by adrenaline and hope, but come hell or high water Jay is going home. Number three: Jay has inadvertently caught the attention of another pirate crew with powers, a crazy old man, and the most beautiful and fierce pirate woman in the Endless Sea. He is so hooped right now.

Tags: Mentions of Abuse, Kidnapping, Hints of Trauma, Sexy/Badass Nya, “If-I’m-gonna-die-I’m-gonna-be-cool-doing-it” Jay

Inspired by the-modern-typewriter

***

His ears are ringing and the sunlight is blinding his eye, but he’s still able to make out Monkey Wretch’s screaming, Flintlocke barking out orders, and Dogshank’s heavy footsteps.

Jay sits up, dazed. He’s aware of something wet dripping down from his eyebrow, and his chest is still gasping from the shock of having his breath knocked out. Still, he staggers to his feet and looks around.

Clancee is beside himself, panicking; Monkey Wretch is leaping back and forth from the sails, screeching; Flintlocke is firing shot after shot with his pistols; and Dogshank and Doubloon are busy fighting. The rest of the pirate crew are scrambling to either fight or run from the chaos of the raid.

Well, raid is a more generous term. The word was massacre.

The deck of Misfortune’s Keep was splintered from the blast of cannons and spilled with the blood of pirates. The enemy ship had appeared out of thin air, only giving the crew a mere half hour to put together a proper defense before they were upon them.

Not that it mattered to Jay all that much. He is planning to escape. He does another round on the crew when he realizes: Nadakhan is nowhere to be seen. They were in the middle of a battle, where it is easy to get lost in the chaos. He can escape.

He can escape.

Jay snatches the satchel that holds his stash of food and bandages he’s been meticulously storing away before running. He has to get to the Quarter’s Deck, where the map to navigate the Endless Sea was. Without it, Jay would be lost. He’d die at sea before ever managing to reach land.

Jay leaps over broken bodies, ignoring the pain from his body. Ignores the rest of the crew as they fight for their lives. Monkey Wretch is trying to avoid a man with a metal falcon and Doubloon gets thrown back across the deck by a man with glowing arms.

Jay scrambles up the stairs, snatching the map off the desk and stuffing it in his bag. He glances at Clancee trembling behind Flintlocke and feels an ounce of pity. Clancee was the only one who was nice to Jay when he was on board — giving him extra food and bandages after rounds of Scrap n’ Tap. But still, Clancee would never leave with him. He was loyal to Nadakhan and the crew, and Jay wasn’t.

Jay runs as fast as he can — heart pounding, blood pumping, making his way to the rowboats desperately. He’s close, he’s so close to his freedom. After about a year of being captured by pirates and being their slave; he is over it. Jay yanks a bloodied sword out of a fallen pirate’s chest, nearly making it to the boats when —

He skids to a halt. There, right there between him and his freedom are two women. Dogshank — the most massive and terrifying woman Jay has ever met is throwing punches that would kill a normal man at a petite female.

The first thing Jay notices about this woman is the way she moves. Her steps are swift and steady across the bloodied deck of Misfortune’s Keep, unbothered by the rolling waves or the chaos surrounding them. It is the kind of ease which only came from having spent a significant amount of time at sea, and just as significant an amount of time with a sword in hand.

She cuts through Dogshank viciously, slicing and stabbing and not slowing down for even a second as she leaves her crumpling on the deck. This girl is fire and heat and hate woven in the shape of a human form. He watches as she mercilessly grabs the larger woman’s hair and sends her sword through her heart.

Jay is terrified. Jay is in awe.

The pirate woman whips to face him.

The second thing he notices is that she’s beautiful. Her skin is a rich tan color and her hair is night black, cut in a practical bob. She has a beauty mark under her left eye and a gaze so dark and consuming it feels like he has been swallowed by a black sea.

Jay swallows, takes a step back and tightens his grip on the sword. His heart crashes in his chest and he tells himself that it's the adrenaline that makes him shake, not the thought that this might possibly be the last day of his life.

The woman tilts her head and walks closer, making a quick assessment of him. Her lips are ruby red. But before she can do anything (like kill him) a voice rings through the violence.

“ENOUGH!”

Everyone pauses. There, emerging from the captain's quarters are two people: a blonde teenager with green eyes and an old man with steely eyes and a sharp countenance. The old man holds up a porcelain teapot in the sunlight.

“This is the Teapot of Tyrahn. A cursed artifact infused with the power to contain magical beings. The ancient markings on the side describe it's a powerful relic that can trap mortals. Your captain is now trapped in here, and you are outnumbered. Surrender the battle, or we will sink this ship — with you on it.”

While the old man is going through his speech, Jay takes the opportunity to peer closer at the teapot. It looks like an ordinary teapot, with strange inscriptions written on the side. As the old man raises it higher to the sun, Jay catches a flicker of orange reflecting inside the teapot.

No way. There is no way Nadakhan is in there. The Last Djinn, The Prince of Djinnjago, the Captain of Misfortune’s Keep — was defeated by a tiny teapot? That was all it took? Jay is gonna eat his shirt.

There’s a beat of where Flintlocke, the first mate, considers the proposal before he hesitantly lowers his guns. Every line in his face is etched with hate, but he’s smart enough to know that any more fighting would lead to his and the rest of his crew’s death.

They surrendered.

The old man makes a sharp movement with his head, and the blonde teenager begins yelling out orders to cuff the prisoners and take them to the brig.

Jay starts, panic shooting through him. How could he escape now? Nadakhan’s crew is captured, and technically, he is a part of that crew. He may be a cabin boy, but he still looks like a pirate with all the time spent in the sea and sun. He couldn’t be locked in the brig, he couldn’t.

The thing with pirates is that whenever they lose a battle the winning pirates maroon them on an island — and give them a gun with one bullet to end themselves. Jay didn’t know what fate would lay to Nadakhan’s crew, but he didn’t want to be a part of it.

Before he can take any more time (to panic), Jay feels a sharp point dig into his back. A sword. Jay grits his teeth and slowly turns around, hands raised, to see the pirate girl behind him. He didn’t even hear her coming.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jay grumbles. The girl’s mouth quirks, ruby lips turning into a captivating half-smile. Her blade drags across his chest before hooking the strap of his satchel. A dead giveaway about what he was planning to do.

“I don’t think so. You’re a bit different from this crew. You’re meeting the captain. I’m sure he has some questions about what a runaway is doing on board.” Jay can detect a slight accent in her words, but before he can ponder about how disturbingly attractive it sounds she spins him around and begins walking him towards the old man by the wheel.

“Captain!” The girl calls, and the old man is pulled out of conversation with a man with black hair and biceps that can crush Jay. His eyes narrow as soon as he notices him, and Jay vaguely thinks that being poked with knives would feel less sharp than the way he was looking at him.

“I found this one by the rowboats. I think he was trying to escape.” The girl shoves him forward and Jay stumbles. Glancing at the old man, Jay notices how his sharp gaze seems more considerate as he strokes his beard.

“I see,” the old man says. “What is your name, boy?”

Jay keeps his head down. “Jay Walker, sir.”

“Jay Walker …” the old man smiles, and Jay feels more unsettled than he’d like. There’s something in that smile, like the old man had just realized something important with his name — like his name was a final piece of a map to some lost treasure.

“I am Wu, captain of the Destiny’s Bounty.” He introduces himself. Jay blinks in surprise when he hears the name of the other pirate’s ship.

The Destiny’s Bounty was the pirate ship of one of Nadakhan’s greatest rivals, Captain Soto. They were bitter enemies, often competing for the most gold and the title of most feared pirate in Ninjago. Lately, there had been a rumor across the seas that Soto had been overthrown and locked in Kryptarium Prison — Jay can take an educated guess and see that the rumor must’ve been true.

“This is my nephew and first mate, Lloyd —” Wu nods to the blonde teenager, “and my quartermaster, Cole.” He gestures to the man with black hair, who crossed his arms. “And the rest of my crew, Kai, Zane, and Nya.” Jay turns to see the two other crew members join them — a man with spiky hair and a man with a metal falcon.

Jay can’t do anything but nod. Why is he introducing his crew to him?

“Why are you on this ship, Jay?” Wu asks. Jay jolts — it's been so long since someone has said his name. Usually he was just called junkyard boy or cabin boy. “What are you doing here?”

“Me?” Jay asks. He wonders if he should lie — he doesn’t want to tell pirates anything about himself — before he decides against it. Perhaps if he told the pirates his sob story and that he wasn’t loyal they would take pity on him and let him go.

“I-I — they kidnapped me,” Jay stammers. “A year ago. I’m from the Sea of Sands, and I was just trying to sell some of my inventions at port when they took me. I’m just trying to get back home.” Jay tries to fight back the blow of aching grief whenever he thinks of his home.

Ma and Pa must be so worried — they probably thought he was dead. They worked so hard to provide for him, and Jay had just gone to port to sell his inventions to merchants. It would’ve scored big money if he managed to. Enough so that they could have meals without worry for months, and so Ma could buy whatever she wanted, and Pa could finally stop working until his hands bled. It was supposed to be for his family.

But then he got taken. Lured in by a promise, stolen because of his trust, desperate from his wish. Jay remembers Nadakhan’s silky voice, a blow from behind, and then waking up in the brig of Misfortune’s Keep miles away from land.

Captain Wu strokes his beard while staring at Jay thoughtfully. “Nadakhan took you … without you using a wish?” He asks.

Jay shifts, uncomfortable with the sudden turn of questioning. “Yes. I used two of my wishes while I was on board to escape, but he would keep twisting it until it was nothing like what I wanted. Eventually, I decided to save my third wish until I really needed it.”

Wu’s gaze sharpens impossibly at what Jay said. “You had a wish left and he still kept you on board? He never tried to get it out of you?”

Jay shakes his head. “He did try to get it out of me by manipulating and goading me.” He swallows at the thought of Nadakhan and his voice, the Scrap n’ Tap, the beatings. “But he never could.”

Wu hums and circles Jay, looking at him like he is a particular trying piece of a puzzle. After a minute he turns to his quartermaster, Cole. “Take off his shirt.”

Jay reels, positive he’s heard him wrong. “Wha —” He doesn’t even get a chance to finish his question before a hand grabs his collar and rips the front of his shirt open. At first, Jay is enraged. That was the only shirt he had, he was wearing that, who the heck did they think they were to rip that off him —

Then he hears the girl gasp behind him, sees the others gaping mouths in front of him, feels the burning eyes on his body before being hit by a wave of self-consciousness.

Oh.

His body.

It had been one week since the last Scrap n’ Tap, and his body showed it. Usually, the games went on for hours until Jay passed out and even then, the crew wouldn’t stop beating him until they got bored. Ugly bruises of all colors had bloomed across his body, a beautiful and horrific painting. Old scars littered his body — some from working in the junkyard back home, but the other, newer ones from his life with pirates. There were slash marks from knives he’d dodged, stab wounds from the ones he didn’t, and bullet shots from the few fights he’d been in.

But the worst was his back. Pale, thin lines scored across him, a lesson embedded deep into his skin and bones.

A flogging.

The first month after being on board, Misfortune’s Keep had docked at a small port off the coast of Ninjago City. Jay had ran. He ran as fast and hard as he could before being dragged back to the ship to face the captain’s fury.

Nadakhan had lashed Jay a total of twenty times, the knots from the whip digging into his skin and making the pain stronger. Even then Jay hadn’t shut up. Every smart remark and weak joke would infuriate Nadakhan more, and make him whip harder.

Jay had tried to escape over five times in the last year, and every time Nadakhan had caught him he added 10 more flogging to the additional number. So yeah, Jay’s back is a mess.

Jay feels his ears burn under the sun as the pirates take in his damaged body. He jumps when he feels a touch on his shoulder and turns to see the girl place a hand on the side of his face and stare at him with wide, beautiful dark eyes.

“Your eye,” she whispers. Her fingers slowly reach up and brush the leather of his eyepatch. “Did he do that to your eye?”

(Gleaming hook, on the floor, slashing downwards, blood, black, painpainpain —

“Believe me, aboard my ship you will break. I will make sure of it. And when that time comes I will be there so you can wish it away.”)

Jay flinches, and the girl gets her answer. She swears suddenly, violently, viciously, and the rest of the pirates look more horrified.

“Dude,” the man with the spiky hair breathes, “how are you even still alive?”

Jay ignores him and turns to the captain, who for the first time looks caught off guard. “So you can see,” Jay bites out, “I have no loyalty to this crew. I just want to go home.”

Wu drags his gaze from his bruised body before settling on his hands. Some of the light returns to his eyes and he furrows his brow. “Your hands … are covered with gloves …”

Jay feels his stomach drop out of his body. “I’m a cabin boy. I need gloves to keep my hands from bleeding from all the work.”

“Nadakhan wouldn’t keep anyone who wasn’t loyal to him on his ship if it wasn’t for a reason. Even if it were a cabin boy. And especially if they still have a wish left. He must have wanted you for something.”

Jay tries not to panic. “I told you! He kidnapped me because he wanted my inventions! I’m an inventor! He thought it could benefit his crew if he had them!”

“Show us your hands and we'll let you go,” Wu commands. Jay tightens his hands into fists and backs away, panic bubbling up.

“I-I …” I can’t, is what Jay wants to say, but that sounds too suspicious. His heart thumps in his ears and he’s suddenly aware that he’s hyperventilating. His hands. He can’t show his hands, because it was bad, it was dangerous, it — it …

Quick as an eel, the captain shoots forward and yanks off the gloves before Jay can stop him.

There were scars on his hands. But they weren’t like the ones that decorate his body — no, the pale pink scars that spread across his fingers and palms look branchlike and oddly different.

It looks like electricity had coursed through his hands.

“I knew it,” the old man says. “You are the Master of Lightning. It is your destiny to join this crew and stop the Skulkin Army.”

(Power outage. Electricity. Chaos. Screams. Uncontrollable. Dangerous.

“Jay, sweetie, you have to be careful. Not all of us can handle electricity like you can. We can get hurt. Lightning is a force of nature. It is not meant to be played. Just be careful, honey. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”)

Jay breathes. He feels knocked off kilter, cornered. The old man is staring at him with shiny eyes and looks a hundred years younger while the rest of the pirates have fallen silent.

“No, no. I don't want to be. And I won't be. I need to go back home. My parents are waiting for me.” Jay backs away, fully intending to flee and run away as fast as he can. It doesn’t matter if it’s a ship, he can run, he can escape, he can —

“Jay,” the old man implores. He avoids looking at him, instead noticing how the rest of the pirate crew is slowly circling him. Cutting off his escape. “I can help you. Everyone on this ship is an Elemental Master. I can train you to control your powers. It is dangerous for you to confine them!”

“I said no! I don’t want to be a part of your stupid destiny and join your stupid crew! I don’t want to be a pirate! I just want to go home!”

Surprisingly, the primary emotion Jay feels isn’t fear — it's anger. Jay has been trapped on the ship for a year, and had dealt with Nadakhan’s sly words and goadings and torture, and out of nowhere this strange pirate crew comes in and tell him to join their crew? Fight against the most powerful army in Ninjago? To basically ask him to die for them?

Sparks explode off Jay's fingers and for the first time he doesn’t quell it. Jay reaches down deep within himself to the writhing, electric power locked away and blasts them with lightning.

Screams and shouts are drowned out by wood ripping apart. The blonde teenager had tackled his captain out of the way and the rest of the pirates were on the floor, stunned. Jay is too, but he quickly forces himself to snap out of it and book it. To where, he doesn’t know — he just needs to get out of here. He’s had enough pirates for a lifetime.

A blast of water hits him in the back, knocking him off balance, before it surges around him. Seawater grips his legs shut, and following the line of water he sees the pirate woman holding out her hand. Controlling the water.

She is the Master of Water.

The woman drags him to her as Jay flails uselessly. Like a fish caught in a net. She swings her boot on his chest, pinning him before pulling out her cutlass against his Adam's apple.

Jay freezes. The tip is pointed almost gently against his throat, but for him to even twitch would be his doom. The girl leans down, her breath hot against Jay’s mouth. All Jay can see is her ruby lips and dark eyes. He resists the urge to swallow.

“I guess,” Nya whispers, “that you should have tried to escape earlier. That little stunt you pulled only made me all the more interested in you. And us pirates love to keep the things that are interesting to us.” She grins, mischievous and dark and so many other things at once. “You’re mine now.”

She straightens up as the others approach and lock his hands in chains, but doesn’t take her eyes off him until she is drawn into conversation with the man with spiky hair. Even still, as Jay is walked off to their ship he can still feel her gaze on him.

He feels as if he’s in a whole other realm of trouble than he was with Nadakhan. Somehow, Nya feels just as dangerous as the djinn himself.

Jay tests the lightning playing at his fingers.

Well. It’s a good thing that Jay is an expert of escaping danger as he is getting into it.

[humming-star]

Forgotten Friends and Their Hauntings!

König x Reader x Ghost

Gender neutral reader!

First time writer!

Feel free to tell me if there's any misspelled words!

Or if you have any advice!

-------

Chapter 1 - Audience With a.... Specter?

-------

The day had begun just like any other day on base.

You had woken up before the rest of the corporals as usual, eaten a normal breakfast of toast and sat alone, as usual. You had almost been late to combat practice, as usual, even when trying not to.

When you finally leave the sparring room, it's with sore muscles after hours of almost nonstop training. Slinging your bag over your shoulder on the way out, you begin your way to the showers.

After a moment of walking a call of your last name stops you and you turn to see the recent addition of the Colonel. The mountainous Austrian man strides to stand before you and looks down at you. Your head only just reaches his pecs, making you feel tiny in comparison to him.

"Colonel, sir!" You speak deferentially, a hand coming up in a salute, his sheer presence alone commanding your respect.

"At ease.... You will come to my office at 2000 tonight, bitte" He commands politely, his blue eyes flickering over your face. You notice him fiddling with something in one of his large, gloved hands.

You blink up at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, before your eyes widen in no small amount of shock and fear. Though you had been to the Captain's office before, with talks of promotion, the Colonel's is another matter entirely.

"Yes sir....." You manage to strangle out with a small nod, your voice trembling slightly as your nerves break though.

He seems to notice your nerves with his laser-like gaze and his posture relaxes slightly, his eyes looking down at you with an emotion you can't decipher. His eyes squint at you in what you think is a smile before he speaks.

"There is no need to worry, Corporal. You have done nothing wrong" He affirms, a softness unexpected from someone with his reputation in his voice. Before you can even think to reply to his words, he strides off, leaving you staring agape at his back.

You had, of course, heard of the Colonel's skill in battle, not to mention his bloodlust. You just hope that you're not on the receiving end of his anger, though with how things in your life have been so far, you may as well be.

You had spoken to the man once or twice before..... though every time had seemed amicable, so you didn't know of anything that you could have said to offend the massive man, which may be good news....?

Shaking your head you make an attempt at not worrying about it, before continuing on your way to the showers.

--------

Hours later you panic as you check the time, realising you only have twenty minutes to get to the Colonel's office, which is on the other side of the base from your quarters entirely.

Adrenaline pumps through your veins as you speed through the halls and you almost knock over several people in your haste. You shout apologies as you run by, the fear of being late far outweighing any guilt.

Passing through the doors of the quarters, a deluge of rain hails down upon you, the cold of it making you shiver. Your pace quickens and your boots splash through puddles on the ground, the door to the mess hall like a blur in the corner of your eye as you pass it by.

You skid to a stop in front of the Operator's quaters five minutes later, soaked to the bone and panting harshly. After a moment of catching your breath you enter the building, a combination of the sprint and fear of what's about to happen causing your heart to beat rapidly in your chest.

Though trying not to run and slip through the halls of the Operator's quaters, you make your way to the Colonel's office just in time, the nameplate on the door the only indicator that you're in the correct place. You heave in a few calming breaths and try to make yourself look as presentable as possible, sopping with rain as you are.

You knock on the door, the sound echoing in the quiet of the halls. Your ears manage to catch the shuffle of quiet footsteps approaching the door and you stand up straight, awaiting the Colonel with an apology on the tip of your tounge.

The door creaks open slowly and a bone white skull emerges from behind the door, the shadows seeming to cling to his back. You startle as you see two blazing brown eyes glare down at you from where they sit, surrounded by eyeblack. You recognise man as Lieutenant Ghost, his distinct mask making the man easily identifiable.

His gait is almost predatory as he stalks out of the office, his muscles flexing in the tight black t-shirt as he moves and you can't help but admire them. With a soft click the door of König's office closes behind him and he leans on the wall next to the door, his tattooed, muscular arms crossing.

Your posture falters for a moment in your confusion and shock before you straighten up with a salute. You certainly weren't expecting Lieutenant Ghost to be here, meaning you must be in more trouble than you thought you might be in.....

"Lieutenant Ghost!" You say, your voice echoing in the silent halls.

His eyes glare down at you harshly, his gaze narrowing further on you as you speak. You hold back a shudder at his increasing glare and keep at attention.

"Corporal 'Magpie', yeah?" He says lowly, his voice almost as harsh as his glare, his hellfire eyes burning a hole through you. You nod quickly at the Lieutenant's question, rain splashing from your soaked hair.

Your nerves begin dying a slow, agonising death as he glares down at you, the contempt in his gaze making a slight sweat drip down your face. You recognise after a moment that he wants a verbal response.

"Yes sir!" You reply loudly, nerves making you lose control of your volume.

Within a blink the man is quietly lunging at you, his hand easily slipping around your throat. The unexpected attack makes a gurgle slip through your trapped throat.

"Be fuckin' quiet, idiot!" He hisses lowly at you, his arm flexing as his hand squeezes lightly. His face looms above your own with a withering look in his eyes.

You nod rapidly, water spattering once again from your hair and soaking the mans arm.

"Now tell me wha' the bloody fuck you're doing here" He demands in a low voice, his hand loosening on your throat, allowing you to speak.

"Col...." You begin with a hoarse voice before coughing quietly into your hand. "Colonel König told me to come here at 2000... I... I don't know the reason, sir..." You continue quietly, looking up at him fearfully.

"I don't like when people lie to me, **lil' bird**" He spits out, squeezing your neck tightly for a moment, causing tears to begin gathering in the corners of your eyes. "König is asleep in there, so ya better stop lying an' tell me the reason a little Corporal like you would be all the way out here, yeah?"

After a moment his grip loosens once more and you try to keep your gasps for air quiet, fearing the man would choke you again if you're too loud.

"I..." You attempt to start, water beginning to slip down your face. "I'm sorry sir... I didn't mean to intrude" You gulp watching as his arm flexes. "The Colonel told me to be here sir... I promise I'm telling the truth!" You say, looking up at him sincerely.

He clearly doesn't like your answer as his hand tightens once more around your throat. He leans down slowly, the plastic of his mask sliding against the side of your face as he whispers in your ear.

"Now tha's a likely story." He scoffs disbelieving, sending a shiver down your spine. "Jus' know, **lil' bird** to stay away from 'im, yeah? I've seen ya followin' 'im around and ya better stop, Otherwise me stranglin' ya will be the least of ya problems." He finishes by holding his hand around your throat until you're light-headed.

Once he notices your eyes beginning to haze over, he unceremoniously lets go. He scoffs as you land in the puddle that had formed beneath you with a splash, not looking back at you once as you gasp for air on the ground.

As you lay gasping on the floor outside the office, you blearily try to think of the reason that Lieutenant Ghost would think that you would be following Colonel König around, but you can't find a reason.

After a few more moments of gasping for breath, you gather the strength to stand, which immediately makes you feel light-headed. Trying to breathe through it you begin hobbling slowly towards the door, hoping to atleast get back to your bunk before you inevitably pass out.

Coming to a stop next to the door, you look through the glass of the door. The thundering storm had luckily slowed to a spattering of rain, the concrete path outside reflecting the nearby lights.

You breathe slowly as you open the door with one hand, the other holding onto the wall to keep yourself standing. The frigid air causes goosebumps to form on your exposed skin and you take a steadying breath before you exit the Operator's quarters.

Before you realise it, you're outside the building where your quarters are. You barely remember the hobbling walk there, but you made it. The metal door is freezing cold to the touch as you open it, straining to open the heavy thing with one hand.

Making your way towards your bunk, you start to feel like you're going to pass out at any moment but you continue none the less. After entering the safety of your bunk the emotions finally hit you and a sob escapes your chest before you can stifle it, your throat throbbing in pain in response.

You slowly make your way to your bed and collapse onto it, more sobs escaping you that you barely attempt to stop. Your vision begins to blur and the last thought you have is hoping the next day would be better....

--------

A dull pounding in your head awakes you and your eyes blink open. Attempting to breathe through the headache, horrible, stabbing pain erupting from your throat reminds you of the reason. Laying still in bed for a moment, you remember Lieutenant Ghost's massive hands around your throat, his blazing brown eyes glaring down at you.

With a painful gulp you remind to avoid both of the Lieutenant's as much as possible, not wanting to encite either of their anger. As you sit up from your bed, a low pain from your back makes you figure that it's bruised from the fall.

You grimace as you stand from the bed, having not changed from your rain-soaked clothes before sleeping. The water had seeped into the bed cover, leaving an imprint behind as you stand.

Walking slowly over to the old cabinet, you look into the small mirror hanging above it and grimace at the sight of your neck. Bringing a hand up, you tenderly trace the massive purple handprint with a finger, wincing as even the light graze of your fingers make it ache.

'Under other circumstances...' You think, tracing the bruise further before shaking your head.

Quickly stripping your clothes and pulling on your underwear you rifle through the cabinet for something to cover the bruise. You find an old turtleneck that you pull on with a wince of pain.

After pulling on the rest of your clothes you peek out of the door for a moment before you exit your bunk and begin you way to the mess hall, keeping an eye out for Colonel König. You stop in your tracks as you spot him in the distance, loitering outside the mess hall and you quickly duck behind the corner as he turns your way.

Deciding to do something else you spot the gym and look in through the door, noticing that there are a lot of people in there. You wonder if you should work out yourself when you notice the Lieutenant pulling weights on a machine in the corner.

His arms strain as he slowly pulls the weight, his black sleeveless hoodie riding up his stomach and showing off his abs as he lowers the weights. A fine blond happy trail leads down beneath his gym shorts and your eyes can't help but follow it down.

You glance away with heat rushing to your cheeks before you look back. His hellfire eyes glare straight into your own and an unexpected molten heat begins forming under your skin.

Backing away from the door you turn and begin rushing away, a thousand flustered thoughts rushing in your mind before you bump into hard flesh. Looking up you see the person you were trying to avoid in the first place.

[latteandjacks]

Patty is possesed, as expected

THEY JUST BURN HAPPY FELLAS FOR THE FUNSIES (or, yk, as a way to cope)

MY SON!!!

He's full of rage, like nhe normally gets annoyed but this time it looks more personal (?)

Ross and Rob will have to ACTUALLY try this time to defend the kids, won't they?

This is either him asking about his dad, asking Lila if he did something wrong or asking Lila if he did something wrong that made his father left/die

Man this is the daddy issues episodes isn't it

I mean-

"Your parents would be proud of you" FATHER GREGOR THAT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU SHOULD SAY TO TWO KIDS WITH DADDY ISSUES

Personally believe these two are somehow related, Narciso complaint with Jhon and Jack and they had to temporary take the kids

It could also be related with them and Father Gregor giving that, well

He seems to be in some shit

Also was him the person Ignacio was hiding from? Is this about him giving them away to him or him wanting to help them?

I guess this is the second time they have introduced themselves as Skid and Pump (first time in The Stars) to someone else, but in this case is a human, the fact that they don't even introduce themselves with their own names pains me idk

And Gegor mentioned the costumes, I HIGLY doubt it but maybe this is the first time we'll see them with the masks off in thr actual series and not background pics and separated draws from twitter

[lees-chaotic-brain]

Angel (Ages 5-13)

Points in time through your friendship with Bakugou, from its beginning, to its transformation into love, to its demise. Inspired by Angel Pt. 2 by Fast and Furious (feat. Jimin)

Word Count: 2,655

CW: mentions of injury, some violence less than canon-typical though, reader uses female pronouns, hurt/no comfort, angst angst angst, mental health struggles, mentions of self-hatred

Part Two | BHNA Masterlist | Blog Navigation

When you were five years old you and Bakugou lay sprawled on soft green grass. You closed your eyes, the fading sunlight painted the inside of your eyelids a pinkish orange. Inhaling deeply, you enjoyed the peace and tranquility of the moment.

Just minutes ago, Bakugou had declared the trek up the hill a race and shot in front of you, determinedly pumping his legs in an effort to win. Screeching that it wasn’t fair, that he got a head start, you raced after him, catching him just in time to tie. The buzz of cicadas filled the heavy summer air swirling languidly through your neighborhood; the quiet soundtrack of summer.

Fluffy clouds painted pink and orange in the light of the sunset drifted high above you in the sky. At your young age this was the happiest you had ever been. After a long day filled with squeals of laughter, and getting into mischief with your best friend you were exhausted, but content. Suddenly feeling sentimental, you rolled over and poked your friend’s shoulder. Said his name once to make sure you got his attention.

And on the evening of that perfect summer day you extended your pinky and interlocked it with Bakugou’s, forever sealing the promise the two of you made.

“Hey, we’ll always be this happy, right? We’ll always be best friends.” 

“Tch. What, are you stupid? Of course we will. From now to forever.”

When you were seven years old the two of you had already made plans to become heroes and open your own agency together. And to Bakugou being a hero meant beating up any and all bad guys. Always winning the fight. Some boys stole your lunch money? Well then they were villains, and he had no choice but to take them on. So what if they were a few grades older than you? They were thieves and had to be punished. If he didn’t put them in their place, how could he call himself a hero? 

Walking across the uneven gray concrete behind the school, he approached the group of older boys and gave them his signature look. A promise of violence gleamed in his ruby red eyes as a cocky smirk pulled at the baby fat still adorning his cheeks. Calling out to the extras he got their attention before charging at them, sparks flashing in his palms.

When you found him later his clothes were disheveled but a look of smug satisfaction was painted across his face. Rushing over, you check him for injuries, brushing the dust and dirt off him and straightening his clothes. Other than a small red scrape on his cheek from skidding across the concrete and little burns on his wrists where the sparks from his quirk had burned him he appeared mostly unharmed. Suspecting the answer to your question but still needing to confirm your suspicions you demand that he tell you what happened. With an air of arrogance, he regales you with his tale of victory over the evil extras, hamming it up to impress you, carefully watching your reaction as he recounts his story.

After he finishes the tale, you sigh and tell him you wish he would be more careful. But he saw the admiring sparkle in your eyes as he told his tale. He knows that deep down you were impressed. And that’s enough for him. 

“You really need to think more often before you charge in.”

“As if, I’m gonna be the strongest, remember? No extra is ever gonna take me down.”

When you were nine years old it had become a running joke in the Bakugou family that you were ‘Katsuki’s angel.’ And although he always protested and fake gagged when his parents called you that, inside he secretly liked the idea that you and him were meant to be together. The first time Mitsuki called you Katsuki’s angel, it was Katsuki’s birthday, and Mitsuki was trying to wrangle him into a custom made suit jacket she had designed especially for him. Chasing him around the house screaming obscenities and calling him an ungrateful brat she tried to force him into his gift. Katsuki had been screaming back at his mother, hurdling over comfortable yet tasteful couches and using his quirk to evade her every movement. Then you walked in, and the second he noticed you Katsuki skidded to a halt, clamping his mouth shut at your disapproving look. 

Walking over to him, you cuffed him on the ear and firmly told him that he shouldn’t call his mother an old hag, and that he should be grateful she went out of her way to make such a nice present for him. Opening his mouth to retort, all it took was one disappointed glance from you and he was turning to face his mother. Grumpily he muttered out a half-assed apology and allowed himself to be tucked into the perfectly tailored jacket. It was a smooth, rich, smoky gray with orange embroidered accents. Honestly it was so nice it seemed a little obscene to give as a gift to an unappreciative nine year old. But you were entranced by it.

Stepping closer to Katsuki, you couldn’t help but run your hands over the front of his jacket, marveling at the texture and the intricate work of the embroidery. Not noticing the pink flush that tinted Katsuki’s cheeks, you ran your hands along his chest admiring the jacket. “It’s so pretty.” You muttered it quietly under your breath, but Mitsuki heard it. Perking up, she announced that she was so glad that you liked it, because she had a matching dress made for you! Surprise!

Quickly waving your hands and telling her that she didn’t need to do that, protesting that you couldn’t accept a gift that nice (your parents had raised you to be a polite young woman, and while they failed in most regards you had still managed to retain some manners) and that she should give it to someone else. Insisting that the only person the dress was meant for was you, Mitsuki dragged you upstairs and gently helped you into it. It was a lighter shade of gray than Katsuki’s suit, and the accents were a paler shade of orange, closer to the color of the sunset than a violent shade of neon orange, but it was undeniably a match to Katsuki’s jacket. 

Self-conscious because it was your first time wearing something that luxurious, you anxiously asked Mitsuki if she was sure she was okay with you having it. Reassuring you that she had made it for you and that you looked beautiful she led you downstairs and called for her son, asking him what he thought of it. 

Stomping angrily out of the other room and demanding to know what was so important he stopped when he saw you, his eyes softening as he gaped. Looking down, you nervously played with the hem of your new dress. When he didn’t say anything, you apologized, saying that it wasn’t right for you to match with him because it was birthday and you didn’t want to take any attention away from him. Turning, you began walking up the stairs but paused when you heard him speak. Quieter than you had ever heard him speak before, he told you that he didn’t care about stupid things like matching, and that it suited you. The last part was spoken in a near whisper, then he scoffed and stormed away, loudly griping about how annoying all the females in his life are.

Later that night when Mitsuki was talking to Masaru, she mentioned Katsuki’s behavior towards you. Recounting the events, she wondered about his change of attitude when it came to you, pondering aloud if perhaps you were some sort of angel sent to make their son behave. Unbeknownst to her, Katsuki had been coming downstairs for a glass of water and heard everything, quietly sitting on the stairs eavesdropping as he wondered what the strange feeling inside his chest was.

“I’m telling you,He was gentle! I’ve never seen our son so sweet and well-behaved. It’s like she’s his own personal angel, sent to make him behave!”

Hm. His own personal angel…well, you were a little too aggressive and sarcastic to be considered an angel, but for some reason the idea of you being his angel pleased him.

When you were eleven years old you asked Bakugou to stop fighting your fights for you. When you were younger, you held your own against anyone who came your way, but as the two of you grew up he became more and more protective until it got to the point he was fighting all your fights for you, not allowing you to intervene. What he didn’t realize was that having an explosive guard dog at you back 24/7 only made things worse for you. For one thing, it made you feel bad about yourself. All your life you had prided yourself on being strong, a bit of a wild child, and a lot more rough and tumble than the other girls your age. While the other girls your age had pretend tea parties and played with dolls you wrestled with the boys in the grass, often beating them. But when Bakugou fought for you he made you feel weak, like he didn’t believe you could hold your own when you knew you could.

In your opinion, every pair of pants with the knees ripped, every callous, every scrape and cut, every grass stain and bloody nose was a mark of pride. It was a mark of your strength, a sign that even the boys couldn’t beat you. Screw the patriarchy! But your female classmates disagreed. They would gossip about you in loud stages whispers as you walked by, wondering if you were even a girl, and that it was no wonder you were friends with all the boys with that haircut. You looked exactly like one of them. 

When Bakugou caught wind of it, he wasted no time giving each of them the verbal beatdown of their lives, unaware that one of them was the younger sister of an eighth grader. After the humiliating experience she had gone to her older brother, and now some older boys were constantly harassing you, shoving you around and mocking you. Your pride didn’t permit you to tell Bakugou, and honestly you saw this as a perfect opportunity to prove your own strength not just to everyone else, but to yourself as well. But before you could confront the group of boys, Bakugou caught wind of the bullying and was demanding to know why you didn’t tell him.

Bluntly, you told him it was because you wanted to take care of it yourself without him. A little stung, he asked why you wouldn’t let him help you. Was it because you thought he wasn’t strong enough? Exasperated, you explained that no, it wasn’t because you thought he was weak, but because he was treating you like you were weak. 

While he understood what you were saying, and felt guilty for making you feel that way, he still demanded to at least be present when you took on the boys. You were okay with it, as long as he promised to not get involved. With a little smirk, he agreed, saying his only intention was to watch his best friend kick some ass. 

And true to his word, he sat on the sidelines, not getting involved. Although, he was the loudest one cheering you on as you wiped the floor with those assholes.

“What? You didn’t think a girl could beat you up? Huh? Speak up.”

“Hell yeah! That’s my best friend. Get ‘em! Punch his teeth in!”

When you were thirteen, you were truly disappointed and angry with Katsuki for the first time in your ten years of friendship. For years, there had been tension between you and him about the way he treated Izuku, someone the two of you had been friends with since you were small. While Katsuki went out of his way to be cruel and derogatory towards Izuku because he was quirkless, you remained good friends with Izuku, often sticking up for him.

That cruel behavior had been the cause of many arguments between the two of you as you tried to understand why he treated Izuku the way he did. You knew that Katsuki was a good person, and while he was your best friend and you wanted to always support him, you couldn’t condone his behavior. This created a weird limbo where you helped Izuku out as much as possible while at the same time giving Katsuki space in regards to the matter, hoping he would eventually work out whatever was obviously going on inside of his head. But no more.

You had been waiting for Katsuki at your usual spot, ready to walk home together but ten minutes had passed and you were impatient so you went to find him. Walking through the clean well-lit halls of your school you headed to his homeroom, stopping when you heard his voice. Assuming that he was just having a conversation with his friends, you marched into the classroom fully prepared to drag him out because you wanted to go home-but nothing could have prepared you for hearing Katsuki tell Izuku to take a swan dive off a building and pray he had a quirk in his next life.

Frozen, you couldn’t believe what you just heard. Because there was no way that Katsuki -your Katsuki- had said something that vile. But he had, and seconds after the ugly, vicious words had spilled from his lips your hand came into contact with the side of his face with a harsh resounding smack. Hand flying up to cup his smarting cheek, he looked at you in shock. Not expecting you to continue, he wasn’t fast enough to block the unforgiving knee you crashed into his ribcage, nor the fist you sent flying at his face. He staggered back, coughing as blood dripped from his nose. Snapping his head up prepared to scream at you, he stopped short at the look on your face. You were looking at him like you didn’t recognize him, disgust and anger painted clear across your pretty features. 

Not even bothering to speak to him, you turned and walked over to Izuku, quietly asking him if he was okay. You helped him gather up his stuff, packing his backpack and retrieving his notebook from where Katsuki had sent it flying. Slinging an arm around Izuku’s shoulders, you walked with him out of the classroom, straight past the shell-shocked Katsuki, not even sparing him a glance. 

Later that night when Katsuki stormed over to your house to “apologize,” you were cold, and laid down an ultimatum: decide between being an insecure asshole, and being your friend. As long as he treated Izuku that way you wouldn’t and couldn’t support him. For the first time since the promise you made when you were five, Katsuki was worried about the state of your friendship. So, he managed to somewhat pull it together, ignoring Izuku for the rest of eighth grade instead of tormenting him. But he would never forget the feeling of your anger and fists being turned on him, or the look of pain and disgust you had leveled at him. No. That look was forever ingrained in his memories, reminding himself why he had to be better. He had to be a person worthy of your friendship and affection.

“‘M sorry I guess. Don’t know why you would pick that quirkless loser over me though.”

“This. This is my problem. Get out of my house. Get out of my house and stay out until you can figure out how to be a decent human being. Until then, stay the hell away from me.”

Alright! That's part one! Let me know if you want to be tagged in part two!

[cryptidofthekeys]

i

im

im about to say somethin

that will get my burned at the stake

but hey- hey spookies- spooky month fandom

...BOTH Father Gregor AND Lila are in the wrong but also somewhat in the right

and heres why

SM 6 SPOILERS UNDERNEATH- if ya haven't seen it go watch it!

Father Gregor did have a point in saying what he did about Lila being an irresponsible mother ..NOW WAIT- BEFORE Y'ALL THROW YOUR STONES- hear me out, Father Gregor was right to some degree, bc she doooess kinda let Skid just fuckin run around unattended a LOT- i mean I grew up with technically a helicopter parent so I can't speak much on the issue

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

but Lila has legit let his ass summon a demon and play with em, let them watch horror movies at a young age, and legit lets Skid like,, go outside by himself ESPECIALLY late at night like,, that's pretty irresponsible that she isn't watching over him just a bit more

now do I think Father Gregor had a right to say well some of what he did- like the whole 'you don't even know why he's here and all you can do is drink' alladat nonsense- no,, he doesn't?? KNOW? Lila personally?

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

like fucking hell, she LEGIT just got attacked by a fucking cannibal (IF Spooky Month takes place right after Tender Treats exactly, the calendar does say November) and also can I just say that Bob was legit her last straw, girl got an actual alarm system but anyways- not to mention Bob was well technically someone Lila knew or she wouldn't have had a reaction like that

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

Also Father Gregor not practicing what his ass preaches if he be preaching the b*ble- there are SEVERAL and I mean SEVERAL instances and phrases revolving around Judgment and to not judge unto others, like yeah he was just looking at what he seen but he doesn't know what she's been through

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

now that doesn't EXCUSE her being irresponsible but like lmao I've seen a few people throw down about it (i think it was mostly playful not like ACTUALLY serious gkfldfksd don't worry) but Lila DID leave Skid over at his friend's house, which was the safe thing to do- so she could go out and drink for a while, there's nothing wrong with going out to drink even if ya gotta kid, just so long as your responsible

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

So, in conclusion, BOTH of them are in the right and wrong, Father Gregor just called the situation as he saw it which is NOT a good thing to do most of the time but also, he is right to some degree that Lila is a LITTLE BIT of an irresponsible mother letting her son just, be unattended while going out (more specifically at night- letting him watch horror movies at his age, etc but also Lila ISN'T a bad mother by no means

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

she does love Skid, she does care for him obviously- hell if she didn't she wouldn't have been out there all night looking for him to protect him from Bob and NONE of it if she didn't give a shit bout her kid- but whether the Lila Lovers like it or not- Father Gregor does have a point to a certain degree

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

also tho legit- the scene where Skid talks about not wanting to be a problem and that he doesn't want Lila to be sad and then Lila has a breakdown and hugs him close eviscerated me- and even seeing Susie being concerned when Pump seems to upset

and apparently uh it's only gonna be worse from here (someone said, which Idk if this bit is true) but someone said Pelo had said in a stream (he streams on twitch I know that much sorry) but someone said that Pelo said the next episode is gonna be even worse

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

.... but anyways lol thats just how I see the thing between Father Gregor and Lila- I'm not even that like,, attached to those characters- I'm attached to Bob, Dexter, and Frank so lmao

[confessions-sm]

I will never understand the people who say “Kevin hates kids” or “hes an asshole downer”

Like OK so he’s not happy all the time, but something tells me his job probably doesn’t pay well enough for all the nonsense he has to go through.

And we’ve seen that until Radford witnessed himself. It is unlikely anybody believed him about what he goes through

(For anybody who’s in retail let’s face it. It sucks working an 9 hour shift and being paid minimum wage, and barely affording to live if you can at all.)

Not to mention, he does not hate kids, because we’ve seen that. He smiled at the kids that he gave the candy cans to in Tender treats.

He gets annoyed with the Hatzgang stealing (valid)

And he’s just annoyed with the trouble skid and pump bring him, they have put his life in peril like what? Four, five times now?

If he really hated them, he would not have protected them from velseb

.

[mayisgoingnuts]

So are skid and pump well aware that the happy fella doll is possessed?

And are they fortunate to play all those games just to basically torture dexter?

(I don’t even wanna imagine how funny they probably found him burning was)

Pump knows since the beginning that he's possessed, while Skid thinks that it's merely a doll that suddenly is alive. Which to him is worse than if it was a human being trapped in a doll so he actually got happier and sadder once he found out about the truth (sad because Dexter is now dead for real)

Some games Pump realized that were dangerous and he accepted to play to mess with him, some he was actually unaware, but Skid knew ALL of them. And it was pretty obvious. Here, Dexter's motivation to not kill people was to not disappoint his mother rather than because he didn't wanted to kill them because oh he DOES. He HATES them both EQUALLY because like I mentioned before, Pump may not express enjoyment on his suffering as a person but he likes to destroy things, and a doll isn't an exception (<- one day I shall edit the HF in this AU because it's a mess)

Basically Skid destroyed him psychologically, and Pump destroyed physically (but also a little psychologically)

Edit: ALMOST FORGOT: YES THEY FOUND IT HILARIOUS. Pump laughed outloud while Skid had to hold in since his mom was nearby

[analexthatexists]

IT'S-A SPOOKY MONTH SPECULATION TIME GUYS!!!

Okay, so after Episode 6, I was like "Wow, they sure want us to remember what happens in past episodes, this one was full of callbacks and other things", and uh...

I'm really hoping this is just a silly reference to some oher media, because if it isn't, then OHHHH BOY THESE KIDS ARE IN TROUBLE.

HEADS UP FOR MASSIVE SPOILERS FOR, WELL, PRETTY MUCH THE ENTIRE SERIES SO FAR (EPISODES 1-6)

Also, I'm noticing that ever since like, Episode 3, this spider and that mannequin have just been chilling in the attic. Interested to see their involvement in the next episode, which I assume is what's being built up to...

Side Note: In Episode 1, you can see the mannequin move to the right a bit, I suppose hinting to the spider? I also believe in Episode 3 after Bob knocks down the mannequin, the spider's the one that puts it back up.

Might I also mention that most side-appearing characters (Or in the previous case, items or even creatures/animals) usually end up coming back in later episodes or having some importance, good examples being Father Gregor and Ignacio. So, what about the Happy Fella dude?

Come to think of it...

What about people like Frank? I mean, he's got a similar role as Kevin (and now Radford) as a side character who has a simple, singular appearance, but it's clear from Kevin and other characters that people like him can always return with more importance than they usually seem to have. This ALSO applies to:

The "Hobomen" who already seem to be getting importance due to The Mayor asking them to destroy a building,

Rick. Just...Because he's Rick.

I mean, if Radford ended up joining Kevin on his wacky adventures, then who knows what Rick could end up getting into?

This poor child who keeps getting fricked over by literally everyone and everything around him,

Even this actor guy who APPARENTLY WAS IN EPISODE 1!? WHAT!? I DIDN'T REALIZE THAT UNTIL LOOKING BACK, WHAT THE-

You see? It's stuff like this that makes me feel like these characters can always return without you even realizing! And that's just SO COOL to me!

...Side note, I uh...accidentally found something. You see that painting? YEAH, UHH....

HUH!? HOW!? I- THEY- SR PELO WHAT THE HELL MAN

I GO LOOKING FOR ONE THING AND I END UP FINDING SOMETHING ELSE ENTIRELY. WOW, THEY PLANNED ALL OF THIS OUT DIDN'T THEY!?

...Right...Moving on...

I'm just now realizing this, but the eyes in that bucket aren't Dexter's (mistook them for his because they have the same pupils), it's the Happy Fella that uh...Y'know... Went splat.

Also, it seems like, if it's not a one-off joke or gag, that ghosts and undead monsters do in fact exist, and well, we've seen a certain demon friend of ours come back from the dead... (Multiple times)

Also, the Happy Fella had to be cooked TWICE, and even after THAT, its eyes still move, soooooo....

So who knows? Maybe one of our deceased friends will come back from the dead! Perhaps Dexter and/or his grandma? Who knows?

Finally, I want to point out Pump's eyes. After encountering The Eyes, Pump's pupils seem to change cyan ALMOST everytime he and Skid encounter a demonic entity, exceptions being Bob and the Happy Fella. Most of the time, his eyes change when around Moloch, and this might actually be exclusive to Moloch. I'm not exactly sure...

Both Father Gregor and Bob have these eyes as well! Bob gets them after seemingly returning from the dead when shot in the chest, and Gregor gets them after his encounter with The Eyes, similar to Pump. I suppose this is supposed to show their connections to The Eyes and other demonic entities? So...Why didn't Pump's eyes glow AT ALL when around Bob? Even when HIS eyes turned blue? Why does Moloch trigger Pump's eyes to change but other entities don't?

I don't know! I'm just pointing it out, really. I ran out of speculation juice a WHILE ago, and I just wanted to point out these little details. Sorry!

[luzxii]

spooky month characters walk in on y/n who selfharms

characters: kevin, radford, streber, rick

content warnings: self harm, blades, mentions of suicidal thoughts

notes: these headcanons are not intended to romanticize or make light of a serious issue, the goal of this writing is to discourage said actions and encourage those whom are dealing with these things to get help. if you or a loved one is dealing with the things mentioned in text, please reach out to someone you trust. you are loved.

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kevin

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You’ve been working at the Candy store for a while now, you were just having a really bad day.

Kevin creaked open the back door of the candy store, clearly exhausted; asking for some help cleaning up the store before his shift ended.

He stopped in his tracks once he got a good look at you, realizing you were bleeding out.

“ … Y/N?! what are you doING- I– “

 He could barely comprehend what was happening at first. He stood there in shock for a moment, completely frozen in place seeing you like that.

Once he took it in, He panicked. Kevin would stumble up to you and grab you by the hands; trying to stop you from causing any more harm to yourself. He didn’t at all realize that you were feeling like this, a part of him couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault for not being considerate. He couldn’t help but feel anger, not at you but at whatever was making you feel so horrible.

“ shitshitshitshIT.. “

He’d cuss under his breath, trying to keep any blood from getting on him. It clearly hurt him a lot to see you doing this to yourself, just holding your hands; even shaking a little.

He’d just question why, why did you do this to yourself? He understood to a degree however, he himself has had self destructive thoughts even if he never acted on them; especially to the degree of self harm. He was painfully unlucky, especially with Skid and Pump. But he just wished he could’ve stopped this before it started happening.

Kevin stayed for extra time to clean up the blood stains on the floor as well as your arms.

From then onward he said his sarcastic remarks and offhand comments less around you; wanting to be more respectful and considerate now that he knew what you were dealing with.

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radford

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“ I’m ready for the movie! I’ve got some popcorn and everything. “

He barged into your room holding a bag of freshly popped popcorn, a grin on his face; excited for the movie you planned to watch together at your house. The harsh realization of what he walked in on was enough for him to drop the popcorn all over the floor; his grin wiped from his face entirely.

“ …Dude… “

He went really quiet, He seemed heartbroken. He sat right next to you, you tried to cover your arms, but Radford already saw everything.

He took off his glasses, he could see without them; yet his vision was blurry with further objects. He looked at your arm, a big frown on his face. He tried to reach out to it but backed his hand away, not wanting to risk agitating your wounds.

“ How long have you been doing this? Have you told anyone? “

He seemed genuinely concerned, asking question after question to make sure he could help you the best he could. He just had no idea what to do. He wanted you to be happy.. You aren’t his first friend who's self harmed, but he never saw it firsthand and never really prepared to. He just stood by your side and made sure you were safe.

“ You can .. talk to me, y’know? You’re safe here.. “

He’d stick by his friends' sides for anything. He’s helped Kevin and Rick through a lot of things, and he was fully prepared to try his best to help you.

He treated you around the same as before afterwards, yet took your mental health into account and kept it in mind in your interactions.

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streber

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Streber let out a huge gasp at first, springing to you and holding you close, absolutely distraught to see you in so much pain. He didn’t realize it was self harm at first, just seeing you in distress was enough to bring him to this point.

“ Y/N, ARE YOU OKAY!? I’M SO SORRY I WASN’T HERE SOONER! OHMYGOD– “

He trailed off when he noticed the blade you were holding, gazing from it then to you. 

“ Wait. Are you.. You’re hurting yourself, aren’t you?  “

“ I’m sorry, Streber..”

His entire dramatic persona dropped for a second. He was naturally an exaggerated person, but certain topics brought him back down to earth for a moment.

The next thing you knew, Streber began to cry. He was a very emotionally driven, and finding out you were hurting yourself? That definitely was enough to cause him to break. It just made him so distraught to imagine you doing that, he couldn’t handle it anymore.

He yanked you into a hug, weeping into your shoulder. You tried not to stain his shirt with your blood, Streber didn’t seem to care. He loved you, he could put up with a little blood. He wished he could take all of those awful thoughts away from you, he’d take them on himself if it meant he could rid you of them.

From then on he always tried to check up on how you were doing more often,  wanting to make sure you were safe and taking care of yourself.

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rick

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You were silently crying in your apartment room, only to hear your door slowly crack open; to be met with your current roommate Rick.

I headcanon that Rick himself has had a history with suicidal thoughts and self harm, so if anyone can relate to how your feeling; its him.

He wouldn’t say a word, just observing you at first; keeping his blank facial expression with no sign of any emotion. However deep down he just took this situation very seriously, he didn’t want to alarm you or make things worse with excess reaction.

You watched him right back, trying to catch your breath; yet you didn’t feel it was any use hiding yourself near him.

He took the knife from you, stoic as before. Then leaving the room, returning soon after with some plaster bandages and other medical supplies; having put on gloves to avoid contaminating the wounded area.

Rick patiently cleaned your injuries then wrapped the bandaging around them, taking time with every swerve to not risk hurting you any further.

He placed a hand on your back in case you needed extra support once he completed, just staying present near you.

Rick didn’t think he was good at consoling people, but he knew it was unsafe to leave you alone like that for very long.

“ I get how you feel. “

You were still sniffling and he could see it, he’d rub your back up and down and pulled you a little closer.

From that day onward, Rick was able to understand you a little more. He wasn’t one to do or say very much but he tried to show his support in you improving; he knows for a fact that self harm isn’t worth it and that you deserve to get better, even if it's rare for him to say that out loud through his usual pessimism.

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[prof-ramses]

Analyzing the SM6 cast line up teaser

More fun for the non-patrons as a height chart of episode 6's characters dropped and I have *thoughts*

Before we delve into the analysis, be advised that this will reference my SM6 prediction post, which can be found here.

And out last bit of preface

These three new characters teased in an earlier update are hereafter referred to as the businessman, the new mortician and the cat lady.

Bear that in mind.

So here's the 2 lined height chart, so let's start putting names to these blobs!

Line 1: The Thieves, Lila, Skid and Pump, Susie (she's pretty hard to see, but you can mostly notice her shirt and hair), Mr. Wonder, Jaune, Jaune's Husband (who was shown in full in an earlier update).

The next figure at first appears to be another shadow, but upon closer inspection seems to be Father Gregor, after that we have;

The Cat Lady, Dexter (likely in another missing ad or for his body being unpossessed, if for a moment), Patty, John and Jack, then we have the first totally new character, a massive person (taller than Frank, making them the new tallest human in the series) who brings me to my first new theory:

This character, whose proportions are highly evocative of a cartoon vampire, will be either yet another new mortician, or in charge of the hospital's blood bank. Funnily enough, this actually matches weirdly well to a half-joking conversation me and @crossover-enthusiast had the other day.

Line 2: Skid and Pump again (for reference), Ross, Robert and Roy, Kevin, Radford (in his teased casual outfit), the actor in the Happy Fella suit, Mayor Evermore, The New Mortician and then... Roy's Uncle??!?!

This might be my biggest validation yet, as I've had a thought for some time of us first seeing the New Demon in hell, torturing the Uncle, if this ends up being true, I am officially the king of the SM fandom!... Where were we?

Oh yeah, we then have; Ignacio, The Businessman, Frank and yet another totally new character, a portly person I have no solid theories on.

Before I leave, I'd like to mention some characters who are missing here (other than Moloch and any other supernatural characters who might appear). Those being; Lucky, the Actor and Actress and Rick.

Rick is the only notable outlier, as he's a relatively major character, so where is he?

Well, I think Rick's absence is quite simple to explain. While not outright confirmed, Rick is heavily implied to be working at Gonuts in episode 6, meaning he's wearing a new uniform. I think Pelo just didn't want to spoil this, and so left Rick and his new outfit out of the line up.

And that's all I've got! One last note before we're done here, I'm pretty sure next week's update will be the episode 6 trailer, so there's that.