#Apologies for the random jump to black and white

[brendanjharkin]

Shamrocks for Palestine Ireland marches once again in solidarity with Palestine. As Irish politicians from the largest political parties travel to the White House to celebrate St. Patrick's Day with Joe Biden, protesters from across Northern Ireland gathered to march to the US Consulate in Belfast, calling for a White House boycott and an immediate ceasefire. When a Councillor from Sinn Féin took the stage she was subjected to intense booing from the crowd throughout her speech for the party's decision to go to the White House with the right wing political parties.

[todorokies]

cherry blossoms, tarot cards & chamomile - suguru geto

contents: sfw, fluff, meet-cute at book store, fem!reader, strangers to potential lovers, mentions of curses & whatnot, tarot cards reading,, 1.5k words.

a/n: this one goes out to the hopeless romantics who wanna fall in love in a bookstore aka me (we hear & see you)

spring has sprung as one would say. the pale snow that covered the ground has melted away, which in turn allows the freshly cut grass to flourish.

cherry blossoms had recently littered the streets alongside the sidewalks, with each petal engaging in a unique twirl that fluttered like a dragonfly before angelically collapsing on the concrete.

with spring came along new missions suguru would have to endure either by himself or with his trusted friend —and nuisance— satoru. as curse energy that once accumulated during the toughest season gets released during the warmer seasons.

today was different however, the pair had been sent into town to retrieve a relic from the past of jujutsu history; a two thousand year old book that slipped out of the archives and has been rumoured to be contained in a bookstore hidden in the nooks of jimbocho.

“the warm breeze outside might fix the low oxygen levels in your heads.” yaga sarcastically reasons when satoru made his complaints about the origins of the mission known.

the raven haired sorcerer reprimanded his tone but expressed his concerns in a more diligent manner. anyone with half a brain would know it would take many decades to successfully pawn through each and every bookshop in the jimbocho district for a specific book, that neither of them even have the slightest clue as of what it looks like.

nonetheless, they were shooed off campus with a pat on the back and a simple: “you’ll know it when you see it—or rather feel it.”

suguru now navigated through the busy streets alone, —his white haired companion taking off a few hours ago on his own journey— with both hands in his pockets taking in the simplicities of life that surrounded him while keeping his eyes sharp for any unusual curse energy.

each corner he’d turn the storefronts would be filled with colourful book spines neatly lined adjacent to one another. the harsh sound of crimped sandpaper occasionally made its presence known when a costomer would flip through the pages.

a bitter earthly aroma tangoed with the wind. one would simply scrunch their nose up and turn the other way but for suguru, the olden smell of books filled him with comfort.

elderly couples hand in hand, a few children accompanied by their parents, and the complementary store cats that would linger in the isles or be found curled up on a random stack of books.

after roaming about and checking a few stores for their recent inventory stock, suguru oddly felt inclined towards a particular store that was larger than the others.

he enters, a ring of a bell from above signals his arrival. immediately, the smell of different assortments of tea wafts in and lingers in his nose.

a café combined with a bookstore…that’s definitely convenient. he eyes the ‘ring for assistance’ bell that rest apon the main counter, he lightly scoffs before ringing it.

“how many times do i have to tell your ass, no, you can’t conduct a séance he—” you round the tight, abelit, breathable corner to face the person it seems you weren’t expecting. you slightly jump back in a frightened manner then regain your composure, or more so, your customer service demeanour.

“my apologies! business is slow today and i thought a rather persistent costomer had came back. do you need help with a book or would you like to order something?” you enunciate your words with care, trying to not let any vocal cracks slip as you fiddle with your colourful apron which is a rather stark contrast from your all black work uniform. 

suguru would pride himself as goal oriented man. the kind demands of asking to take a look at your recent stocks to see if the cursed book has fallen onto your shelves nearly wavers past his lips but the faint smell of his favourite tea clouds his better judgement.

“yes, i’d take chamomile tea with honey please.”

“coming right up!” you popped the ‘p’, scurrying off into the back to prepare his choice of beverage. alone with his thoughts again, suguru observed his surroundings with more caution.

the store has a whimsical charm to it. different array of ambiance lighting scattered throughout the establishment, vintage burgundy rugs made an appearance here and there, a few wooden chairs cushioned by velvet and a long couch that looks as if it has been passed down through many generations.

a sturdy coffee table in the middle and of course, the probably hundreds of thousands books neatly tucked in the shelves.

he wonders if you run this big place by yourself, must be a hassle if you do. he also wonders why a séance was mentioned by you in an irritated tone. maybe it could connect to his current mission? he plans on subtly bringing the topic up.

“one chamomile with honey!” you cheerfully announce handing over his mug. you don’t miss the way your heart skips a few beats when your fingers accidentally brush against his.

suguru nods his head to express his thanks. while digging for his wallet he brings up what’s been on his mind, “what was that séance you were talking about before?” he lightheartedly inquires.

you cautiously look over your shoulders and nibble on your bottom lip, as if you were scared someone might hear, “nothing too serious i suppose. these past few days business has plummeted cause there’s been talk about how this place is haunted.”

a small beat passes.

“which it isn’t by the way! just some silly stuff kids say when they wanna get under uncle daichi’s skin,” you grimace.

you then go on a bit of a tangent about how the alleged “hauntings” started a few weeks ago, just about the same time you gotten a new inventory restock. books would fly off shelves, unnerving whispers can be heard, lights would flicker and the atmosphere would turn unsettling.

suguru is unfazed yet intrigued by this, he calmly listens as his sharp eyes never leaves your face. he notices how animated your expressions are when retelling the events; you talk heartily with your hands as well as your voice that creates a certain bass to match your feelings.

he hums as he takes a slip from his mug, “can you show me the known hotspot for these hauntings?” you nod eagerly and swiftly move from your spot at the front desk to the back of the store.

yaga wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be able to feel the cursed book, as the cursed energy in the air multiples a tenfold when they step into the secluded part of the store the lighting couldn’t reach. he wonders how a cursed object this powerful was able to conceal itself from being spotted for so long.

suguru plucks the hefty grimoire off the shelf, small dust particles flying in its wake, “i’d like to purchase this one.” you look at him as if he grew an extra pair of eyes, but quickly shrug off any confusion and lead him back to the front of the store to cash him out.

as you progress his payment you feel conflicted about letting this particular stranger go so soon. holding him up for a few minutes couldn’t hurt, right?

“uhh.. wait, with each purchase a tarot card reading is offered free of charge. would you like to know what the future potentially has in store for you?”

suguru presses his lips in a thin line and sighs. he doesn’t have time for this and doesn’t believe in cards beholding a hidden future, however he is a sorcerer and just bought a book that would be a danger to society if not soon contained. raining on other peoples parade simply isn’t his forte.

he softly smiles with his eyes turning into crescent moons, “hit me.”

you try to conceal your excitement as you bring out a deck bound together by a rubber band. you start shuffling until four different cards slip out of the deck.

death, judegment, eight of cups, and the lovers.

“intresting…don’t be too alarmed by the death card, it could indicate the decay of a friendship that doesn’t hinder towards your beliefs or an troublesome habit finally coming to an end.”

you continue, “judement and eight of cups go hand in hand as your new calls for action may put certain things into perspective for you, as this chosen path may lead to dissatisfaction.”

“and finally, the lovers card is the nice light at the end of the tunnel. someone you can confine in and pour your heart out to; tarot cards can be interpreted in millions of ways so, take what i say with a grain of salt.” you smile as you put the cards away to bid the stranger farewell.

suguru stares astonished absorbing this information, you’re good. he’ll give you that. “well..thanks for the reading and the tea, have a great day.”

and just like that, he turns his back to leave until he stops just in front of the door. “oh, and i can assure you the ‘hauntings’ should come to an end now.” he smirks and waves you goodbye.

you smile until he fully leaves which is when the realization hits that you didn’t even get the chance to get his name, you frown and groan into your palms.

maybe he’ll swing by again…hopefully.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[skylarsblue]

✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

(Five scenes were gn!reader meets, flirts, and eventually gets with the C.o.D guys. You can thank Gaz & a Doja Cat song for this)

✧Gaz, Price, Soap, & Ghost. The others will come later✧ ✦Flirting, light sexual tension here and there, basically just fluff, some mild descriptions of wounds/war, no specified appearance but I do hint that you're shorter than the guys here and there in a subtle manner. Sporadic use of Y/N that I apologize for. Random callsigns I made up on the spot.✦

✧Kyle "Gaz" Garrick✧

Laswell walked beside Price whilst leading the team out onto some tarmac. "I know you all are very competent, but this is a rather big mission, and so I wanted to give you backup I think you can depend on." She said calmly, coming to a stop, turning to the four men. Ghost crossed his arms and bit back a scoff. Kyle smiled for a split second because of it, though shrouded in mystery, it was no secret that Ghost hated working with others. A black jeep rolled up from a slight distance. Gaz wasn't too interested, he'd been tired all day and meeting new people sounded like a bit of a pain. He adjusted the hat on his head and kept his gaze on the ground, even when some footsteps approached. He glanced up at least, not paying any particular attention to the five individuals in front of him. Though he did give his full attention to Laswell when she began speaking. "Team 141, this is Team Sonar. They'll be working with you this upcoming mission, which we still need to go over." The woman explained. Their captain shook hands with price, an older man with dark hair and a broad white streak in the front. Two younger men stood to the side, Soap greeted them. One was blond and the other, a light brunette, they looked like twins. The fourth one was fairly androgynous, tall, eyes cast at the ground. Gaz was just about to look back at Laswell when his eyes fell on the last member. Dressed in black military gear, holding a rifle aimed at the ground, vest decorated in patches and a filtration-gas mask over the lower half of their face. They looked up and locked with his gaze, a spark let off in the air as soon as they did. Gaz rolled back his shoulders, pinching the inside of his cheek between his teeth. He watched their eyes scan him up, down, then slowly back up. By the way their eyes scrunched slightly, he could assume they were smiling, giving him one more quick once over. It was hard not to smile as well, especially when their eyes stuck to him whilst turning to face their captains. "Careful sergeant." Ghost's deep voice made Gaz jump. "Ahem, right." He mumbled, shifting his hat down a bit. Though he did risk stealing one more glance, feeling an ego boost when he caught them doing the same.

"You ever take that hat off?" They asked, leaning on the common room's table as he sat down, arms crossed. "I do, I just don't feel like it." Gaz shrugged, adjusting the ratty baseball cap on his head. "The flag is literally fallin' off, mate." They teased with a smile, reaching to nudge the brim, making it push down. Gaz snorted and took it off for a split second to fix it. He gasped when it was snatched from his hand, smiling when he saw their face covered in a cheeky grin, holding the hat away. "Alright, c'mon. Give it back." He insisted, holding out his hand. They hummed, tapping their chin whilst looking at the ceiling. "Nnnoo, no I don't think so." They replied with their tongue stuck out. Gaz tucked his tongue into his cheek and glared at them playfully. He laughed when they jerked back as he lunged for it, smiling more when they hid it behind their back. "Oh, playing dirty now?" Gaz asked, moving to snatch it once more, only to be dodged. "I think you look better without it, actually. I'm doing you a favor." They insisted, backing up more and more. He naturally followed. They reached up to put it on, chin tilted at an endearing angle. "Should just lemme have it." Gaz shook his head, although he did enjoy the sight of them wearing it. "Over my dead body, give it!" He laughed. They blocked his arm when he went to grab it one last time, reaching into the back pocket of their camo pants. Good thing about military pants? Big pockets. Gaz blinked in surprise when he felt a pressure on his skull, raising a hand to feel a different hat. He quickly took it off and looked at it. A baseball cap with a British flag and an embroidered "K.G.G" on the brim, in a dark green color. He gazed at it with some awe, feeling a quick wave of sentimental joy enter his system. "I think green is more your color." They said, prompting him to look at. He blinked when they booped him on the nose and then turned to walk away. "Hey, what about my original hat?!" Gaz called. They turned, walking backwards. "It's mine now! No take-backsies!!" They giggled, rotating on their heel. The man ran his tongue over his teeth as he chuckled in disbelief. He glanced once more at the hat before putting it on, shaking his head fondly.

(nsfw implication in this one; cause Y/N a bold bitch) Gaz hummed to the tune of his music as he sat on one of the chairs in the common room, waiting for time to pass until their next briefing. Listening to Y/N make themselves tea, occasionally passing conversation between them both. The topic now? Why he never used his actual name. "I guess I just don't really get it. It's not like it's a bad name." They said, pouring hot water into a mug. Gaz shrugged whilst scrolling through a playlist. "I used to like it, now I don't. A lot of people don't like their name." He answered, glancing over at them. They placed a teabag into the water and turned to look at him, hip leaned on the counter. "Yeah, I guess. But usually there's a reason if you specifically dislike it, ya know?" They retorted. Gaz nodded and adjusted in his seat. "I guess...I dunno, anytime I hear that name, it usually means somethings going wrong? Either someone's needing something from me or I'm like, in trouble? So, I prefer the nickname." He explained, looking back down at his phone whilst they threw away the tea bag. "Then it's not the name, it's what you associate hearing the name with! You just need to put a different context to it." They said, though their voice was a bit muffled by his earbuds now. He snorted. "Oh yeah? Well, lemme know if you got any ideas." He said sarcastically, not hearing them walk closer. "Let's try this then." Gaz jumped a bit when the earbud was pulled from his ear, replaced with the feeling of warm breath. Hot blood rose to Gaz's cheeks and neck as the cupped their hand around his ear. "Oh Kyle...~" His breath stopped at the sound of a very convincing moan, heart stuttering as they laughed quietly, gently putting the earbud back in his ear. They made it a point to lightly drag their fingers across his shoulders when walking around him. Gaz watched them walk away with wide eyes until they were out of sight. He then sunk in his seat, hand covering the lower half of his burning face. He forced in a deep breath. "Fuckin' hell..." He mumbled while replaying the sound in his brain. They at least had a point. Hearing his name like that was pretty enjoyable.

"Gaz, Spark, how copy?" Gaz's radio crackled, Ghost's voice cutting in and out. "Copy sir, we're in a safe house. Hell of a storm outside, we'll need to wait it out." He said. Y/N was checking the pipes and looking around for firewood as Ghost gave choppy orders. The man huffed and took off his vest when he saw the fire being lit, grabbing a rickety wooden chair to pull up next to it. "Fuckin' snow." He grumbled as he heard the wind bare down on the house. "Not a winter guy?" They asked, making him look over his shoulder as they walked in with two cups. "Found coffee. I know you're more of a tea type, but warm is warm." They responded softly. He thanked them and took the cup, though he cringed at the bitter taste, swallowing so he could answer their question. "Nah, always liked Summer more." They nodded before setting their mug on the floor. "So, we're alone for god knows how many hours." They said, looking at a tactical watch on their wrist. Gaz rose an eyebrow while taking another sip of his coffee. "Yeah? What of it?" He asked. "You gonna finally make a move or should I keep pretending there's no tension here?" Their blunt words made him choke and began coughing. They laughed and lightly smacked his back, snickering when he cleared his throat. "I uh, wow, okay. Bit blunt to put it that way, innit?" He said with a breathless laugh, putting the cup down. "Bit rude to eye fuck me all the time and do nothin' about it, innit?" They mocked with a grin, making him blush, though thankfully the melanin in his skin left it unnoticeable. "Okay, I do not...alright, maybe a little, but listen." He laughed bashfully. He watched them roll their eyes with a heavy sigh, looking down at him with a smile. "What? Do I have to do everything?" He rose his hands up and sank in the seat slightly as they placed their hands on his knees, leaning in slowly. "Didn't take you for such a scaredy cat, sergeant.~" Gaz cleared his throat and couldn't stop himself from laughing nervously again. "I'm not a scaredy cat. I'm just...patient." "Patient?" "Yes, indeed." They hummed and clicked their tongue. "Well, I'm not." Gaz felt his lungs constrict and the air expel from his body once their weight rested on his lap, hands on the back of the chair, which creaked under their combined weight. He watched them take his hat off and rest it on their head. "So, sergeant major Gaz. You gonna make a move, or should I?" They asked quietly. He let out a slow exhaled before shaking his head. "You...are gonna get me in so much trouble." He said fondly, though he did invite them leaning in dangerously close. "Guess that's a risk you gotta take." They whispered back. He hummed in thought, stalling for the sake of mischievousness now. "Eh, only live once." He shrugged, grinning as they laughed, unable to stop smiling when the held his face to kiss him. Trouble or not, it was inevitable.

✧John Price✧

John sighed and messed with his dog tags as he waited of Laswell to come back into the room. She’d said she had something important to tell him. She finally poked her head into his office with a calm smile, giving him a nod. “A few weeks ago, you asked for a sniper. I found one I think is suitable.” She said, opening the door a bit further to reveal them. Stood in a compression shirt and camp pants, arms behind their back. John straightened his back as he took their figure in, acknowledging slightly nervous body language. They seemed young, but not by much compared to the rest of the team. “Alright. Lemme talk to’em.” John mumbled, motioning with his hand for the soldier to step inside. Laswell patted their shoulder as they entered, crossing the office to sit in the chair across from Price. Laswell left with the door closed. “You’re nervous, soldier.” He said. They swallowed and nodded, patting their leg. “A little sir, yes. Trying not to be.” They answered honestly with a little chuckle. “You afraid your skills aren’t up to snuff?” He questioned, voice gruff, trying to poke for insecurities. Not that he was cruel, but he needed soldiers made of steel on the field. “Oh, no. I’m 100% confident in my skills. It’s uh, just hard to not feel anxious when you’re sat in front of a captain with such an impressive resume. I’m uh, well, I’m worried about my impression is all.” They admitted bashfully, clenching their hands in their lap. John rose an eyebrow and let out an amused huff at their praise. “You’re certain you’ll keep up?” He asked. “Yes sir.” They answered immediately. John nodded, he motioned for them to stand as he did the same. They listened without hesitation. He rounded his desk and stood in front of them, watching them force back nerves in order to meet his gaze. He held out his hand. “I‘ll look forward to seeing you work, soldier.” He said. His smile grew when they shook his hand, a spark growing in their eyes. “You won’t be disappointed, sir.”

John huffed and rubbed his temple, soreness radiating through his skull as a result of persistent annoyance. He'd been put in charge of some new recruits, a batch of youngsters, all of which seemed to enjoy testing his patience. They all liked to slack off, lose focus, occasionally take a little jab at him. John was a patient man and did his best to keep his cool, usually only losing it in dire circumstances. But, he was a human, and humans had their limits, and the captain was at the end of his rope as he watched the recruits joke around. All right after he specifically told them to run laps, a standard training exercise. His frustration must've been obvious on his face, hence why Mist approached him. "You alright, captain? You look ready to blow a gasket." They asked, voice soft, showing sympathy. The brunet huffed and rested his hand on his hip, feeling a bit soothed by the gentle pat on his bicep. "These damn kids won't take me seriously, and I've bout had it." He explained, motioning to the group. The soldier's eyes widened and looked at him like he'd grown a second head. Unable to fathom it. They weren't much older than the newbies, and they'd already shown a genuine and powerful admiration for John. For various reasons. John watched them frown and shake their head. "Try again." They motioned, giving an encouraging nod. John was a bit confused but he cleared his throat and shouted to get their attention. "I said to run laps, not stand chit-chatting! Move it!" He demanded, voice rough and commanding, but not as intense was it was in the heat of battle. Y/N's blood boiled at the blatantly disrespectful laugh one recruit let out. "Whatever, old man!" A young man replied. John felt his jaw tighten and he took in a breath to yell again, on his last nerve, before a voice beside him beat him to it. "WATCH YOUR FUCKIN' MOUTH!" Mist exclaimed, voice echoing in the air like flying daggers. They'd been rather soft, quiet, and gentle the whole time they were with 141. Excluding battle. To see them so angry, so intense, it was enough to make John even jolt in surprise. "When your commanding officer gives you an order, you execute it on the first fucking demand! He said run, you sprint damnit! If you think you can dick around at the sake of the training that will save your life and the lives of your comrades, FUCK OFF BACK HOME!" They hissed, baring teeth like a raging dog. "Now, move it! Forty fucking laps at least and if I hear more disrespect at my captain, I'll have your fuckin' heads!" The recruits had already began on the track, wincing when the threat landed in their ears. John watched Mist compose themself with a look of shock interlaced with endearment. They gave him a bashful glance and cleared their throat. "Uhm...there ya go." They smiled. John let out a quiet chuckle and patted their back. "Remind me to stay on your good side." He said playfully.

(Brief description of bullet wound & war) The sounds of gunfire were sharp on the ear drums. Air permeated with the scent of rubble dust & metallic blood. Mist jumped over an enemy corpse as they dodged around a building, clicking the button on their radio in order to answer their captain. "This is Mist! Ran off about six yards east, where are you, cap?" They asked, chest heaving. "Three yards to your right! Haul ass before these cunts reload!" It was probably a terrible time to think it, but they couldn't help but worry about his throat, all those cigars surely made his voice rougher than it was naturally. That thought was pushed back by the need of survival, although their worry was barely focused on themselves, more on the safety of their captain. They found him settled behind some large stacked crates, littered with bullet holes. Taking no time to slide up beside him, huffing and puffing, face smeared with paint & dirt. "Are you steady, Cap?" They asked breathlessly. John nodded, adjusting his bucket cap. "For now. We gotta move out toward the evac, Soap's got this place set to blow and I wanna be out before it happens." He explained whilst loading a rifle. "Understood, I'll cover you." They replied. Whilst sprinting away from the enemy, ducking when the gunfire got heavy, their barriers were thinning. John huffed and pushed through, scanning for the next thing they could duck behind. As he did, he was left open. The young soldier's eyes locked in on a sniper overhead, gun angled directly at the man beside them. The world moved slow and frightfully quick all at once as they shoved John off to the side whilst shouting for him to take cover. The bullet spun through the air and made itself home in Mist's leg. John was quick to act, able to aim his rifle up at the roof, landing a rather lucky headshot in retaliation. "Damnit, soldier, what the hell were you thinkin'?!" He exclaimed, using his arm to help them stand. They didn't respond, teeth gritted in pain as the two of them continued to move. Making it to the evac wasn't easy, but it happened. The team left like a bat out of hell, holding up with shotty attempts at first-aid until they could get to a medic. John put Y/N on priority for one since the bullet was lodged in their thigh, risking a problem with an artery or bone. Thankfully though, it was just a muscle issue. They'd need recovery time and rest, but overall, they'd be fine. Likely to only sport a scar by the end of it. They sat on a medical bed as John heard the verdict, eventually waving off the doctor so he could speak with them alone. "What the hell were you thinking?" John whispered harshly. Though Mist was the more sensitive type, they didn't flinch, not a single waver as they met his gaze. "Thinking about saving your life." They answered. "And you got shot cause of it." John replied, making them snort. "I can handle a shot to the leg. Far less damage than losing you. In terms of pros & cons? I think I weighed'em pretty well." John felt his chest constrict as they gave him a satisfied smile, as if they weren't still covered in the signs of war. He opened his mouth and no words came out, he gave up and sighed, dragging a hand down his face. He stared at them for a moment. Eventually, his hand fell limp at his side, chuckling quietly. "You'll be the death of me, soldier." He said. They laughed and shrugged. "Nah, I think I'll keep you alive for awhile longer. That's my plan anyway." Their retort played like music in the strings of his neurons, sending waves of serotonin & oxytocin in his system. "I'll hold you to that." He sighed.

(NPC death mentions) The sound of paper rustlings and the scratch of a pen was monotonous and soul sucking. John had always been a diligent worker, but, he'd never enjoyed paper work. It was something he found particularly boring even as he got older, and there was always an air of somberness when he was filling out reports on men who'd died. Lost their lives under his command. In the late hours of the night where silence was suffocating and the loneliness began to grow more obvious in his bones, continuously marking his signature down on dotted lines until his wrists were sore. His throat was dry and his eyes stung. There was a bottle of whiskey on a side table calling his name, but he didn't have the energy to move, and he knew it wouldn't satisfy any actual thirst. The sigh he let out was full of exhaustion. Then, he flinched, silence broken by a knock at the door. The brunet's brows furrowed in confusion & suspicion, given lights out was at least two hours ago. "Who is it?" He called after clearing his throat. "It's me." The voice was unmistakable, and though he hated to admit it, his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Enter." He instructed, finding it worrisome how it felt easier to breathe when their figure poked through the door, entering slowly. A cup of steaming tea rested in their hands. "You should be asleep, soldier." John said, leaning back in his seat. They gave a soft laugh and a nod, walking up to his desk. "Couldn't. Kept thinkin' bout you, knowing you were overworking yourself. Finally gave in and made you a cup of tea. With all due respect, sir, you should also be in bed." They answered, setting the cup on the desk. Like a godsend, able to sense his unspoken needs from across the base. He was a providing type, protective too, he'd been called a "dad" type as well, always caring for others. Although being cared for was foreign, he couldn't help but have his heart melt in a way he hadn't really felt in a very long time. The man sighed, grabbing the cup, blowing on it before he took a sip. He could feel his soul grow warm as he realized it was a perfect replica of how he'd make it, ideal to his preferences. It was impossible not to smile. "You're a real saint, you know that?" He asked. The room felt brighter as they laughed again. "I'm not sure about that, but thank you." They replied. "I mean it. You stick out your neck to make things easier for me, even when I don't ask. I notice it, even if I'd prefer you keep a bullet out of your leg." He scolded lightly, making them nervously shift their gaze to the side, recalling the shot they'd taken for him. "Eh, I don't really regret it." They said, moving around his desk in order to sit on the same side as him, remaining on the corner of the wooden table, careful to avoid sitting on any of the papers. John shook his head. "I'd probably take another eighty bullets for you." They answered honestly, ignoring the stutter in their heartbeat as he stood, chair scraping on the rug below. "Now why would you do that?" He questioned cynically. The response he got struck every chord in his heart. "Because I care about you too much to see you get hurt." They whispered. "You're such a good person, and you do so much for everyone else, even when you're at the end of your rope. There really aren't people like that in the world, and I don't think I could really handle losing something so rare." John inhaled and stepped in front of them. He was intently in their personal space, but they didn't feel the need to lean away, even if their nerves were alight with a specific type of anxiety as he tilted their chin with his hand. He didn't say anything for a long while, only gazing, adoringly and intensely full of passion. Finally, he smiled with an amused breath. "I think I hit the nail on the head..." He heard their breath catch when he leaned close enough for his facial hair to lightly prick at their skin. "You're nothin' short of a saint, sweetheart."

✧Johnny "Soap" MacTavish✧

The bar was crowded and rowdy, dimly lit and teeming with energy. 141 settled in a booth. The bar was popular with veterans and active soldiers, so there wasn't a corner of the building that didn't have some camo print in it. Johnny chuckled at a joke Gaz made at the expense of a recently defeated enemy before taking a swing of beer. He scanned the bar lazily. At the same time as others, cerulean eyes settled on a small scene in the crowd. Kyle leaned around Soap to get a better visual. "Yeesh, can't a man take a hint?" The man mumbled as they watched a tipsy soldier flirt with, what seemed like, a civilian. Dressed up for a night of fun but clearly not having a good time with a slurring and pushy man not being able to take a no. "Think we should step in?" Soap questioned, to which Ghost rose his hand, a signal to stay seated. "Look at their friends, they look like they're waiting for somethin'. Maybe they've got it covered already." He mumbled past the fabric of his balaclava. Johnny cringed, scrunching his nose at the scene, biting his tongue, literally. "They're a civilian against a trained soldier. Drunk or not, they probably need some help." Kyle commented. It was immediately after he finished his sentence that the "civilian" set their drink down, face showing annoyance. They turned to the drunkard and in quick, trained movements, took him out. Or in less intense terms, knocked him out cold with a swift elbow to the chest and a well formed punch to the jaw. The bar went quiet after a collective "oooohhh" in response to it all. The "civilian huffed and rested their hands on their hips, shaking their head. Soap's jaw was lax as he watched them walk over to the bar, pay, and leave. Left in utter awe intermingled with disappointment that he hadn't had a chance to talk to them. Up until a week later when a higher up declared he'd be gifting a lieutenant with an impressive track record to aid the task force in a mission. A huge help, since apparently they had specialized information. The four men waited for the mystery person right outside of base. When they walked up, they had a mask on, but a collective string of shock hit the men when they came closer. Gaz let out a little laugh and nudged Soap with his elbow. "Looks like you get to talk to them after all." He teased, watching Johnny fight to keep his jaw closed. They stopped in front of him with their arms crossed and face stern. "You lot must be 141. Lieutenant Fern." They said. Price stepped up calmly to introduce the team. Johnny cut him off, practically leaping forward with his hand extended to greet them. "Sergeant Soap, pleasure to meet'cha Lieutenant." He said with a boyish grin. They tilted their head with a raised eyebrow. "You always this excitable, sergeant?" They asked. Johnny's eyes glimmered with childlike fascination and liveliness. "Only with beauties like ya'self." He said boldly. They scoffed with some amusement, shaking his hand as they glanced at an embarrassed Price. "Bold, this one." They praised.

Soap grunted and slammed his hand on the floor twice, letting out a strained word. He took a deep breath when the pressure let off his neck, hearing a few tongue clicks. "That's the third take down, Soap. You gotta stop leaving yourself open." Fern sighed, giving him a hand up. He rubbed his neck and coughed, frustrated at himself for letting his performance slip. It was showing on his face and in his shoulders, weighing down by the sense of failure. "Oi, suds, quit that." They ordered, making him look up with confusion. They made a vague motion to his person, referring to his posture, before resting their hands on their hips. "The self-doubt and anger at yourself. It ain't gonna help ya. You're not bad at what you do, you're learning still. That's normal." They explained. Though their tone sounded blunt and rough, as usual, Johnny had been around them enough now to hear the hint of softness that lingered in their words. Something he had yet to hear before. He huffed and dropped his hand at his side. "I shouldn't be havin' these fuck ups, L.T. I been doin' this for too many years for fuck ups." Johnny let out a yelp and a whine as he received a flick to the bridge of his nose. "'nough of that, sergeant. What'd I just say?" Fern demanded with their gaze sharpened. They poked his chest to keep his attention. "You listen here, and you listen good because I won't be repeating myself. You're smart, and you're good at what you do. Fuck ups happen no matter how long you've been doin' something. You ain't perfect and I ain't expecting you to be. I expect you to be observant and open minded." They stated. Johnny's face softened and so did their tone. Fern sighed and shook his head. "Don't beat yourself up over shit that's fixable or that you can't control. Doing that won't help you, it'll just make you feel like shit. Enough of that will turn you into a stick in the mud." Their hand smacked on his shoulder, giving a reassuring squeeze. Soap felt his heart squeeze when they gave him a rare and small smile. "And I like you as the puppy dog you are, alright, soldier?" Johnny blinked before he snorted and nodded, taking their words to heart. "Good man. Now, c'mon. Let's go again. I'll go slower and correct your form and we'll get those slip ups worked out. On your mark." They ordered, gentler this time. Soap got into position with a grin and determination lit aflame once more. "On it, Lieutenant. Hit me." He challenged, burning with joy when they gave a fond chuckle.

Music and commotion filled the air with noise, adding a backdrop to a conversation that flooded in and out. Soap threw back some whiskey and cringed as it hit his taste buds. He coughed and set the cup down, shaking his head whilst the person across from him chuckled. "Not a whiskey type, suds?" They teased. He shook his head and slid the cup over, letting them take it and refill it. "I'll stick to my beer, thanks." Johnny replied with a huff. He pushed down the warmth in his face he got from watching them drink out of the same glass, mouth placed over where he'd just pressed his lips. Unintentional, most likely. He felt ridiculous being flustered over such a school-yard level of intimacy, and indirect kiss from sharing a glass was juvenile. He looked over their face, eyes settling on the signs of exhaustion in their expression. The Scotsman frowned and tapped the table a few times before he gave into his thoughts. "You ain't been sleeping, 'ave ya?" He asked. They looked up from following the patters of paint in the wall beside the two of them. Their silence was answer enough but the fact they shook their head sealed the deal. "Mind if I pry?" Soap asked, leaning in a bit more on his elbows. Fern shrugged and sank in their seat a bit, sighing. They rubbed their eye before regaining eye contact. "Different reasons. Old demons, mostly." They muttered. Johnny's brows dipped in sympathy. "You got a way of dealin' wit' that? Therapist?" He asked, sadness bubbling in his chest as they gave a humorless laugh and headshake. "Nah, I ain't gonna put my shit in someone else's hands. It's my problems, I should be able to deal with'em-" "Now that's a loada shit, L.T." Soap's voice cutting them off caught them by surprise. Johnny was a bold man, a loud man too, but he knew respect and knew when he needed to bite his tongue. He'd never really given an outburst at them. "Ain't you the one always tellin' me an' the team to speak up when we're in trouble?" He asked. They opened their mouth and shut it, unable to formulate a response. Their eyes softened when he reached over and rested his hand on top of their own. "Don't hesitate to ask for help. When you're out your depth, holdin' you pride too tight will get'cha killed. That's what you said." Fern blinked before a sad smile crossed their face. "Yeah...I did say that." They nodded, heart clenching as Johnny gave their hand a squeeze. "Then take your own advice, Y/N. Don't'cha owe yourself that?" He asked in a hushed tone. They bit the inside of their cheek and took his words to heart, nodding slowly with a slow exhale. "You're right. I'll keep that in mind...thank you, Johnny." They replied. He gave that sunshine filled grin in reply. "Ain't gotta thank me for that, L.T. But, you can buy me a drink if you wanna show your gratitude." He joked, feeling proud when it got them to laugh. "How's a tequila sound?" They asked. "After my 'eart, you are! I'll take three." Johnny responded with a grin.

(Implied wound) Soap grunted and leaned against a wall whilst holding his side. Pain shot through his nervous system with every movement. He huffed and thumped his head against the brick. His skin was growing clammy and moving his head too fast lead to his vision blurring, the dizziness was something that always got him the worst. He'd never been good with the sensation. It always felt him nauseous. The brunet groaned past gritted teeth as he tried to force himself to focus, will his brain to work despite the myriad of overloaded senses. His radio crackled with sound and a voice that was choppy thanks to the slightly cracked speaker. He let out a huff and rose his arm to click the button whilst trying to focus on the words, spoken by a familiar voice. "Soap? Soap, do you copy? C'mon mate, don't leave me hanging here." Fern asked with a hint of worry. The man grunted and that alone let the lieutenant take a sigh of relief. "You broken, serge?" They asked. Johnny swallowed in order to clear his throat. "Cracked, L.T. Took a hit to the side. Not sure of the damage but I ain't doin' so hot." He wheezed. Speaking brought on a coughing fit. He barely heard the order to stay put as his ears rung from the pain coughing caused. His vision was going spotty by the time he heard footsteps rapidly approaching. In his half focused state, he weakly tried to reach for his gun, only for a gloved hand to stop his arm. "It's me, Johnny." Fern's voice brought him a sense of relief. He leaned his head back to look at them, giving a weak smile. "'ey there, beautiful." He said, coughing again, which was followed by what could only be described as a whimper. Fern frowned as they checked his wound, using one hand to keep him steady. "Shit, Johnny. We need to get you to the evac right now. Can you stand?" They asked. He shook his head, slumping on their shoulder. He sighed, soothed by their body heat. "Just go on...I had a pretty good r-FUCKIN' CHRIST!" He screeched as they applied pressure to his wound. His face was grabbed sternly, forcing him to look them in the eye. Shock flooded his system as he saw saltwater building along their lower lid. "You listen here, you bloody fuckin' moron. You ain't allowed to die on me. Not until I fuckin' say so." They hissed. Soap blinked and opened his mouth to speak, letting out a noise of surprise when their lips collided with his. He let out a shaky breath whilst leaned into them, hand clutching a strap on their vest. Left tingling and energized by the action as they pulled away. "You pull all that fightin' spirit back in your fuckin' body and fight for me. Then, we get you out of here, we get you fixed up, and you owe me a fuckin' date. You got me, loverboy?" They demanded. The Scotsman heaved some breaths before he nodded. "I got'cha." He replied. Fern gave a single nod and stood up, pulling up the weakened soldier, getting under his arm to keep him steady. "Atta boy. Keep your head up, Johnny. I need you to keep your word." They said as they began helping him move. He gave a weak chuckled and a wheeze. "Roger that, L.T. Roger that."

✧Simon "Ghost" Riley✧

(Brief description of an NPC gettin' knifed in the face) The stairs creaked under Ghost's weight as he moved up behind Price. The man made a hand motion to move up more, which Ghost followed. "Stay steady, boys. Remember, not everyone in this place is a hostile." Price whispered gruffly, getting some affirmative responses. Ghost motioned for Soap to help him scan one side of the second floor, moving slowly through the rooms. Three hostiles were down in the span of two minutes. "Floor clear?" Gaz asked. "Affirmative." Soap replied, looking around. Just as Ghost was about to move out of the room, his eyes fell on a door he hadn't seen at first, with noise from behind it. "Negative. Unchecked room to the south." He motioned. The men rose their guns as Ghost moved toward it, carefully turning the door knob. He listened closely before swinging the door open quickly, locking in on a target almost instantly. They rose their hands with a yelp, an unidentified box in their hand. Ghost's finger twitched on the trigger before they spoke. "Friendly, don't shoot! Unarmed!" They declared, which made Price motion for the team to hold fire. "Name!" Ghost demanded. "Y/N L/N, call sign Blister. I'm a medic with S.A.S, and currently a hostage!" They said, voice sounding out of breath from the rush of adrenaline. Price clicked into the radio for Laswell for an identification as Ghost's eyes looked back at the box they held. Now he could see it was white with a red cross on it, as well as some faded stickers. He lowered his gun as Price confirmed they were telling the truth. Ghost motioned to the box and opened his mouth to demand they hand it over before they tensed, eyes locked on something right past him. "COVER!" They exclaimed. Shots ran past him, Gaz & Soap ducked. An enemy had snuck up behind them. About to reload before a white box flew and clocked them in the face, quickly followed by a throwing knife. As the body dropped limp, the men of 141 looked over with widened eyes as the medic let out a huff. "You said you were unarmed." Ghost replied gruffly, pushing past his feelings of shock. "One knife compared to four AK-12's is pretty much unarmed, big guy." Blister retorted. Ghost scoffed a small amused huff with a nod. "Fair point and good aim." He praised, watching them smile slightly. Price snapped his fingers to get their attention. "Need a gun?" He asked, to which Blister nodded. Ghost took his pistol out and handed it over, though he jerked it from their grasp at the last second with a warning look. "I better not regret givin' you this." He threatened, slowly holding it out again. They took it from his palm slowly, fingertips brushing against his gloves. "Relax, big guy. Only grief I plan to give is to the enemy." They said, checking the ammo clip before putting the gun in their pocket. Price motioned for them to move, stay low. Ghost was sure to trail the medic closely from behind. Unaware that it'd be soon that a higher up would decide that 141 needed a medic, and who better than one with perfect aim?

"Bit late to be up, ain't it?" The voice from behind him made him tense and nearly choke on the smoke in his mouth. Ghost looked over his shoulder as he exhaled the vaporized tabaco, pulling his mask back down once it was expelled completely. He watched Blister meander up to him, highlighted by the color of the moon. "Could ask you the same thing, medic." He replied. They snorted as they came to stand beside him. "Fair point, Lieutenant, fair point." They nodded, tilting their head to look up at the sky. The air was cold and the roof was quiet, below their feet were sleeping soldiers, unaware of the bright moon and twinkling stars. Blister tilted their head as their shoulders fell lax, something Ghost noticed. They never seemed tense and he couldn't fathom it when he couldn't ever relax, even when he was alone his muscles were tight, ready for fight-or-flight at all times. "You're staring, sir." They whispered, looking at him in their peripheral. Ghost scoffed and looked at the sky. "Was not." He denied, hearing them snicker. Silence passed between them before the medic noted Ghost's posture, just like he'd done to them. "You ever gonna let your shoulders relax? Your muscles' are gonna snap under that hypertension, sir." The blond clicked his tongue and shook his head. "These are as relaxed as they're gonna get, medic." He answered. "Because you're burning off constant anxiety?" Their response hit him a bit hard and he snapped his head to look at them. They stood with all their weight shifted to one leg, head tilted. "You don't hide it real well, ya know. All that unease. I know it ain't my place to pry, but I want you to know I can see it." Y/N said softly. Ghost let out an exhale from his nose. "And so what if you do? You're on thin ice, Blister." He warned, getting a headshake in reply. "I'm saying I see it so you know you're not invisible to me." He scoffed, crossing his arms after tossing the put out cigarette off the edge of the roof. The moonlight bounced off his irises, providing superficial light to replace the one that'd been missing since he was young. "Hard to miss me. I'm a "big guy in a Halloween mask", aren't I?" He said, using air quotes. They clicked their tongue. Ghost tensed and looked at them once more as their hand rested on his arm. "What I meant is; I see when you're struggling. And I'm here for you when it gets a bit too heavy. Whether you like it or not. I'm stick to ya, like a superglued plaster, sir." They patted his bicep and gave a kind smile. "Come see me sometime, you don't have to be injured to talk to me. My door's always open." Their words hung in the air as they walked away, and Simon couldn't help but pivot to watch them leave. When they disappeared off the roof, he cursed under his breath, feeling his chest clench and a pressure in the back of his throat. He looked up at the stars with weakness in the circles of his pupils. "...fuckin' help me ma, I'm screwed." He whispered into the night air, watching a star blink back at him.

(Ghostie gets a panic attack but it's still fluffy) Ghost let out a shaky sigh as pins and needles made themselves at home in his extremities. His veins buzzed with anxious energy and his hands had begun to shake slightly. His breathing wasn't erratic yet, but he knew it wasn't long before it would be. He bounced his leg and weighed his options before he stood up, chair squeaking along the floor at the speed of which he did. His footsteps were quick and heavier than usual as he rushed down the halls and toward med-bay. It never made sense to him, why he'd be perfectly fine and then suddenly be hit with sense of panic. Like there was a guillotine hanging over his neck that he couldn't see, but he knew the blade would drop at any second. The med-bay was empty of anyone, except for one person, organizing a new shipment of bandages. Blister heard the door click shut and the ragged breathing. They looked over their shoulder, surprised at first to see Ghost. They went to greet him before noticing all the signs of something they'd seen a million times. Twitchy, anxious, unable to breathe clearly, trembling hands. Without him saying a word, they pulled out a chair and motioned to it. "Sit." They demanded. Simon wasn't one for listening to other's orders if he didn't have to, but he did it, bouncing his leg. Y/N walked over to the water cooler and then a mini fridge, pulling out an ice pack. They walked over with it in hand, along with a tiny cup of water. Y/N placed it on his chest and motioned for him to hold it there. "Simon, look at me." They instructed in a soft voice. "I need you to try and take a deep breath. I know that's not easy, but try your best." He felt them lift his balaclava just far enough to rest over his nose, making it easier to breathe. "Can't you just shoot me up wit' somethin'?" He gasped. "I'd rather not if I can help it. Do you know what's happening right now?" They asked as he took the cup, tossing back the cold water. He shook his head. "This is a panic attack, Si. I'm gonna walk you through it, you just gotta do your best to breathe and focus on me." He didn't have much choice. They took his free hand and sat in front of him, looking him in the eye. "Follow with me. Give me five things you see." Simon swallowed and scanned. "Uh...peeling paint, cracked window, fire hydrant, ugly tile, broken light." He answered. They nodded and squeezed his hand soothingly. "Four things you feel." He took a deep breath. "Your hand, the seam of my jeans, ice pack, my itchy ass stubble." That got a little amused huff out of the medic. "Very good, you're doing great. Now, three things you can hear." Their praise was more comforting than he liked to admit. "My heartbeat, the clock on the wall...your voice." He whispered. They gave him a gentle smile and another squeeze to his hand. "Two things you smell." Simon took a deep breath through his nose and noted what came with it. "Sanitizer and somethin' fruity." He mumbled. "That'd be me. Now, last one. Take a deep breath and then tell me something you taste." They asked. Simon did as he was told, it felt easier now, less like his lungs were collapsing. "Mmph, tea. Bad tea, let the bag sit for too long." He complained. Blister chuckled and stood up, taking the ice pack from him and putting it on the table. They rested their hands on his shoulders, lightly pressing into them as they told him to take some more deep breaths. Once his breathing was steady again, he sighed and blinked slowly. "You alright?" They asked. Simon nodded, though he felt tired now. "You're...a real good medic." He muttered, feeling warm as they snorted cutely. "Thanks, big guy. I do my best."

(Reference to Ghost's poor self image & a singular mention of a wound) Ghost sat in an unmarked van with his back against one of the doors, watching Blister rummage around in hopes of finding medical supplies. His eyes drifted down to his leg, a broken pipe ran through his thigh. It hurt like hell and based on the annoyed growl the medic let out whilst throwing away another useless box, there wasn't anything they could do to help at the moment. Their radios overlapped with the sound of Price's words, informing them about the evac on the way, and how they'd ensure to send the help needed to get Ghost out of there safely. Said man shook his head as Y/N replied to their captain. "Just go. I'll slow ya down, it ain't worth it." He grumbled, wincing as he attempted to move his leg again. "Shut your fucking mouth, lieutenant." Blister hissed back. The man blinked in surprise at their response. They rarely snapped, not unless they were in the midst of battle. "Damnit, medic, don't be stubborn right now. Just fucking go, leave me here. That's an order-" "God damnit, Simon, shut your fucking mouth!" Ghost flinched at their shouting, now even more caught off guard. He watched them stand, walking a few steps to sit between his thighs. They gripped his vest roughly, eyes sharp like daggers and their nose scrunched in anger, teeth clenched tightly. They pointed a finger in his face while breathing heavily. "Now you listen and you listen good, I am not fucking leaving you hear. I am not leaving you anywhere, you understand? We are gonna get you in that fucking evac." They insisted. Ghost rolled his eyes at their declaration. "I am a liability, Blister!" They jostled him roughly. "You are fucking important to me, Simon! Your survival fucking matters to me, and until you stop breathing I am going to ensure I do everything in my power to keep you alive. And not just because it's my fucking job, but because I give a shit!" They shouted. Simon's chest felt tight again. His hands trembled so he curled them into tight fists to hide it. He felt like a kid again, weak and vulnerable. Something he despised. "Why?" He whispered past clenched teeth. He watched their gaze soften and their grip on him loosened, leaving their hand resting on his chest. "Because I care about you, but I know you don't care about yourself. But whether you like it or not, I give a shit whether you live or die. And one day, even if it takes my entire god damn life, I will get you to the day you can look in the mirror and love what you see. In and out. In order to do that, I need you alive. I need you alive to see the great man I see every day, o you're gonna get in that fucking evac, we're gonna get you patched up, and you're gonna live." Their voice shook and he watched their bottom lip shake slightly. Simon shuddered under the weight of their words. "Do you copy?" They asked. He stared at them, unable to find any hints of deception. They meant every word. Simon bit his lower lip and inhaled slowly. "...yeah, I copy."

[chrollohearttags]

one conversation in particular that annoys me is when black women try to have an honest discussion about how they felt undesired, unprotected, and mistreated by the men of our own race and it’s followed by: “y’all need to just go outside. Black men like black women still.” which is funny because I can promise you my (and every other black girl’s) very first experience with colorism and self hating men was not with some random nigga on Twitter or a boy on TikTok bashing us for views.

it was in my fourth grade class when my only other black classmate was mixed and his white mom told him girls like me weren’t cute. That I was too ‘black’ and ‘nappy headed’ despite her husband being my same shade.

it was in my middle school years when the same three boys tormented me constantly, from making fun of the skin tags on my face to my skin tone (even though one was darker than me) even sitting behind me and calling me ugly every chance they got while uplifting lighter skin and non-blk girls. Running to tap on my shoulder to yell ‘he likes you’ only to run away laughing as some sort of insult.

it was in my sophomore year and I moved to a predominantly yt high school, where the handful of blk boys didn’t even look in my direction and when they did, it was only to help get the attention of my nb friends. Or when a guy tried to attack me and my whole group of friends one more and I was the only one not protected because I was ‘strong enough to fight for myself.’ While they jumped to the aid of the white girls. and when the non-blk boys paid me attention, it was only to fetishize or tell me how I was ‘pretty for a black girl’ and that they’d ‘date me if their parents would approve but knew they wouldn’t.’

it was even older men would hit on me and when I’d turn them down, I’d be told I should be ‘lucky somebody likes my black ass.’

I had to learn from a very young age that this world does not view nor respect us and I didn’t do so from behind a screen. We’re just in an age where we have a platform to collectively voice our opinions and share our experiences in hopes to not only help others but heal and speak about it. So rather than gaslighting and trying to quiet us under the premise that we’re ‘too sensitive’ or ‘chronically online’ try this nice little thing call shutting the fuck up and listening to us. It’s a lot of guys I went to school with who are or have already become fathers and they’re gonna have black children (mixed race or not). Raising sons to think that type of treatment of girls is okay and a daughter who’s going to go through that thinking it’s just a part of growing up. We don’t talk about these things because we want half-assed sorry apologies or to even bash black men. We do it because we want the cycle to stop because no little black girl should feel less than her worth, especially at the hands of the ones who should be looking out for us.

[ghostheartfelt]

*:･｡☆ tags: cafe cuteness (fr), regular customer au, sunshine reader, grown attachments, pervert!venom, fem!reader, first introduction, no use of y/n, she/her prns used

〔☆〕 desc: you meet eddie during morning rush hour, vv understanding man who admires your connection with your customers and dedication towards your job. eddie's hungry for chocolate (n you), you pique interest in the host and his symbiote. very calm and soft start<3 u get both povs basically cause the way i write can b confusing :)

.. ☆ next part | masterlist (tbe)

—✩ RUSH HOUR P. ⅰ ✩—

word count — 1.7k

a/n: u get both povs basically cause the way i write can b confusing :)

Rush hour, you thought.

Your coworkers were racing in and out of the kitchen holding platters of fresh baked muffins and pitchers of orange juice.

In the evenings, the café is quieter and calmer - in the mornings, not so much.

You turned as someone called your name and nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Can you get the back left corner table napkins and jelly packets, please? That old woman is just about ready to throw her handbag at me,” your coworker, Becc (short for Becca), had asked you while balancing dirty plates going down both of her forearms.

“Yes, yes, I can—“ you nodded, waving her off as you rushed to the check-in desk, grabbing at a few jelly packs; orange marmalade, grape, and strawberry, as well as a new pack of napkins.

You did as Becc asked, bringing the items to the old woman who indeed was clutching her blue leather snakeskin handbag. “Sorry, ma’am, we’re a bit busy this morning.”

With no reply, she snagged an orange marmalade jelly packet from your hand as you were placing them on the table, causing you to flinch at the sudden action.

You as well unpackaged the napkins and placed them in the metal stand, then fixed your apron and walked back to the front desk as the welcoming bell’s ringing filled your ears.

A male in an olive green jacket and denim jeans, a gray undershirt, and black converse made his way towards the dine-in counter where you stood behind.

He had a scruffy yet handsome face, his hair slightly unkempt but in a way that you admired him. Your cheeks slightly flushed.

“Good morning,” he nodded at you respectfully.

“Good morning,” you replied, “just a table for one?”

You picked up a menu, clutching it to your chest as your fingers trace along the plastic cover.

“Yeah,” his eyes nervously dragged around though you let it go and took it in as some sort of social anxiety.

“Right this way, sir,” you lead the way, your head turning over your shoulder to make sure he hadn’t zoned out, turning it once again at the sight of him trailing behind.

“Will this booth work for you?” you placed the menu down and he slid it over with his thumb and pointer finger.

“Oh, yeah, nice cushioning,” he laughed nervously.

“Perfect - any drinks to start you off? Perhaps an O.J, or a coffee?” you straighten your posture, your shoulders slouched awkwardly.

“Coffee sounds great, side of cream of sugar, if that’s okay?” he looked up at you.

You were a nervous wreck, and he could tell - they could tell.

“I’ll have that right out for you,” you turned and took a step, though he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry, just uh—can I get a chocolate muffin as soon as possible?” his lips overlapped one another as he let go, though you blinked and smiled.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if you’d like anything on the side.” You bit your bottom lip with embarrassment.

The man was rather distracting, your eyes dragging over and analyzing every feature his face held. He had blue eyes with soft bags, tiresome dark circles and a muscular build. You had an oddly specific type.

“Oh, no, don’t apologize,” he scoffed with a small smile.

You smiled back and turned on the heels of your white sneakers and headed to the kitchen.

“SHE SMELT DELICIOUS,” a deep and grim voice echoed in the brunette’s mind.

“Quit smelling random people like some pervert, V,” the man whispered to himself.

“NOT RANDOM, JUST HER,”

“Well, we can’t eat her,” he bit the flesh on the inside of his cheek as he looked outside the window, his forehead in the palm of his hand.

“WE WILL NOT,” the voice snarled deeply. “GET TIRED OF CHICKENS.”

“I know, V, but you can’t just go around the city beheading random people, so for right now we need to deal with chickens.” He grunted.

“BUT THEY ARE BAD, BAD PEOPLE SHOULD SUFFER AND DIE,” the voice grew louder, irritated by his response. “WE KILL, WE SAVE!”

“Yeah, well, we kill, we also risk our lives, V.”

“SHE IS COMING,” it snarked, evading his head.

The brunette turned his head to watch you walk over to his booth, a muffin and a cup of coffee on a large round tray that you balanced on your open palm, waving at frequent customers with a tug at both corners of your lips.

“I’m sorry for the wait, sir,” you grab the plate and set it on the table along with the mug of java.

“Just call me Eddie,” he nodded as thanks, taking a bite out of the muffin.

You introduced yourself, drumming your fingers on your server book before opening it. “Did you want anything else this morning, Eddie?” You clicked your fuzzy purple pen as you spoke with a bubbly voice.

“WE LIKED THAT,” the voice boomed through his head again causing Eddie to swallow thickly.

“I think we—I’m okay,” he stammered slightly, a nervous smirk curving one corner of his mouth upward.

He was cute, your hip dropped to the side slightly. You bit your lip to suppress a smile, instead giving a small laugh.

“Just wave at me when you’re ready for your bill, okay?” you close the book and turn once again to assist another table.

“HUNGRY,”

“Alright, V, just hold on a second,” Eddie peeled back the cover on the small creamer packet, then poured it into the coffee along with two packets of sugar.

Your fingers dig into the pocket of your apron to take out a few crayons wrapped in plastic and place them on the table along with a kids menu. A small ravenette boy with curly locks and smooth dark skin smiled at you brightly as he took out the green crayon and coloured in the small dinosaurs sprinkled across the kids menu.

“Thank you,” his mother sipped her cup of hot tea, her french-tip nails clicking against the glass as she loops her finger through the handle.

“Of course, what can I start you two off with this morning?” you leaned on your toes, then met back with the ground.

“For him, I think just a small pancake—“ she gently tapped the boy’s knuckles with her thumb, then began signing in what you assumed was American sign language.

You observed closely, watching in awe as he signed back to his mother, an exciting smile never leaving his face as he signed a “thank you,” to you.

You knew a bit of signing from your highschool years, so you replied with “you’re welcome,” enthusiastically, hugging yourself to gesture an air hug.

“A pancake is fine for him, some fruit on the side?” she smiled. “Is pot roast on the menu right now, dear?”

“Yes, there’s about ten more minutes until it’s done, if that is alright with you?” you wrote down the mention of extra fruit in your book.

“As long as it’s fresh, am I right?” she let out a heartwarming laugh, earning a small giggle from you as well. “Oh, and three cornbread biscuits.”

“That’s when it’s best, and sounds great - any juice for the little one?” your eyes dragged over to him craning his neck to sip out of the plastic cup of water that was given to his mother with her tea. Your heart fluttered with baby fever.

She caught his attention once more, signing with her fingers.

“Sprite, thank you,” the mother rejoiced.

You toyed with the hem of your apron. “I’ll have it right out for you two,” you scrambled toward the kitchen.

“WHERE DID SHE GO?”

“She’s helping others,” Eddie swirled the little bit of cold coffee in the bottom of his cup, slowly adjusting himself as he watched you set down a small plastic cup with a yellow lid in front of a child, then a bowl in front of his mother.

You place a straw on the table, then walk back to the brunette who had introduced himself as “Eddie”, which you admired. It fit his face well.

“I’m so sorry for the wait, Eddie,” you smile nervously with your eyebrows pinched together as you hand him his bill and a pen.

“Hey, it’s no problem, seriously.” He took it from your hands, scanning it over. “Thank you,”

“Of course,” you quipped. “Tell me if you need anything, I’ll be back,”

“LITTLE MORSEL,” the voice purred. “WILL WE COME BACK, EDDIE?”

Yeah - yeah, we will, V. Eddie watched you leave to assist another group of people walking into the small café as he took out his wallet, setting down two twenty dollar bills for a tip and his credit card for the rest.

“WANT TO MEET HER,” it grunted.

No, we might never even see her again.

“YOU ARE A LOSER.”

You sped back over, exhaling heavily. “It’s getting busier and busier, I’m sorry for the delay of getting you out the door,”

“No need for all the apologies, seriously,” he scoffed.

“Right, sorry—“ you blinked. “The tip, Eddie, that’s so much,”

“THAT SOUNDS—“

Knock it off, perv.

“I was a journalist, that’s nothing to me,”

Your cheeks flushed, but you thanked him again and guided him to the front desk.

“Any chance you’ll be here tomorrow?”

“YES!” it boomed.

“Actually, I won’t,” you hum sadly.

“NO—“ it snarled.

“But I work every Wednesday through Saturday,” you smiled.

“Okay, good to know,”

Your heart thumped in your chest, you were frozen in place in fear of him actually having the ability to hear, which Eddie himself couldn’t - but he could.

“SHE IS NERVOUS, EDDIE,”

Of us?

“OF YOU,”

Did Eddie want to get to know you more? Or possibly were you just that good of a waitress? God, now you were really overthinking things - is that why he tipped you so much? Did he not actually pique interest in you?

“Are you alright?”

You were so captivated in thought you hadn’t even realized you were still holding the brunette’s credit card in the machine; blinking for you to take it out - you felt your ear tips heat up.

“Sorry, I space out sometimes,” you gently pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, which he grabbed with two fingers.

“Not a problem,” there was a genuine tone on his tongue that delivered you some comfort.

“Have a great day, Eddie,” you waved to him as he left the building which he warmly returned; your heart feeling a sudden loneliness as he escaped your peripheral view.

[theweirdoinurhouse]

A lousy apology

(This is part two of "A lousy break in", my previous Spot x reader one-shot. Sorry for any spelling mistakes. I'm not the best at it. Hope you enjoy!)

It's been about a week since that guy broke into your apartment. The one who had no face and was paper white. The one who dissapeared through a black hole in the floor of your living room.

He said he would make it up to you. How? You don't know. What did he do with the 100$ you gave him? Again, you don't know. You just hope he didn't do anything bad with it. If so, you'd regret giving him the money even more than you are now.

You are currently sitting on your bed, scrolling through different networks on your laptop to find something to watch. You notice alot of Spider-Man advertisements for different networks. You never really liked him. He casued alot of destruction like the villians, but he never helped fix any of the damage. Atleast you aren't dead, you'll give him that.

As you scroll, your thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound coming from your tiny living room. 'Like that night a week ago.' Could it be the same guy? 'Only one way to find out'

You close your laptop and slide off your bed. You grab your bat from the corner of your room, just in case. You carefully step into the hallway, straining your ears to listen. You hear objects being put down, and fabric of a jacket shuffling. If it is the same guy as last time, he really needs to step up his breaking in skills.

You turn the corner into the living room. And yep. It's the same guy. Wearing the same jacket he was wearing the last time he decided to invite himself into your home. It did look abit dirtier though.

He was placing things on the shelves of your bookshelf. The same things he stole a week ago. But there was also some new things. Colored rocks, a rubix cube, some old keys that are just for decoration, a deck of cards. Just some random trinkets.

"Welcome back, Spot."

He jumps at the sound of your voice, interrupting his reverse-robbery. He scurries to pick up the things he dropped, and you watch. You count three things he dropped. A rock in the shape of an owl, a glow-in-the-dark bracelet that is no longer glowing, and

"Are those someone's car keys?"

You ask, not fully believing what you're seeing. Did he seriously steal someone's car keys to make up for stealing your things?

He turned around to you, still abit shaken up from the scare. He looks down at the keys in his hands, then back up to you. "Yeah. They are." He says, voice quiet. Like he was a kid who got confronted for breaking a vase.

You drop your bat and walk toward him. Jeez. Forgot how tall he is. He backs up a little, but is stopped by his back hitting your bookshelf. You take the keys from his hands and observe them. Maybe you can figure out what kind of car it belongs to. You turn the keys over, finding the symbol. The Crest shape looks different, but you recognize that horse.

"Did you steal someone's FERRARI?!"

He's startled by your yelling, but he responds quickly.

"NO! No no no! I meeeean. Sorta? I only took the keys!" He raises his hands up by his head, right fist clutched as to not drop the other two "gifts" again. You're staring at him, jaw dropped. He actually did steal someone's car keys. And a Ferrari at that.

"Do you know how much trouble I could get in if someone finds out I have these?! I'm not rich enough to own a Ferrari! I live in an apartment!" You yell. You're honestly starting to freak out.

The guy, or Spot, moves close to you, putting hi left hand on your shoulder. "Dont worry! You're not going to get in trouble. The keys don't come from here, you're fine!"

You look at his hand on your shoulder. You see a black spot on the backside of his hand, the edges of it shifting slightly and slowly. You look back up at him, your neck hurting from how much you have to look up. "What do you mean by, not from here?"

"They don't come from this universe, is what I mean."

You stare at him, disbelief written across your face. He backs up away from you, making sure not to bump into your bookshelf again. "I can hop between different universes with my holes!" He exclaims, voice exaggerate. He opens his arms wide, showing off his body. He still has his jacket on, but you can still see plenty of 'holes' on his body.

You're too tired for this crap.

You let out a sigh, Spot dropping his arms. He sets the rock owl and bracelet on your shelf, next to the rubix cube. You put out your hand, the car keys in the palm of your hand. He takes the keys, you not having to say anything as to why you're handing them back to him. He could take an accurate guess from your past words.

"Thank you for returning my stuff. And getting me new things. I appreciate it." You say, putting your hands into the pockets of your pajama pants. Oh how you love pockets. He nods his head, not knowing how to respond. He doesn't get many "thank yous" anymore.

You look over at your door. Lock is still locked. You look over to the window in the living room. Glass still intact. He must have used his holes of his to get in. You let out a little laugh at that thought. You look back at Spot. He was standing still, the only movement was his figiting hands, and the black spot on his face moving around. Like it was an eye trying to avoid looking at you.

"Next time, use the door." He perks up at that. Next time? You want him back here? "Oh! Okay! Sounds good! I'll do that!" His voice sounds happy, his body language saying the same. You let out a small laugh, enjoying his enthusiasm. You pat his arm, his head turned to it when you let your arm fall back.

"Sounds good. You should get going. Don't want my neighbors to wake up and hear someone else's voice in here."

He nods his head, walking towards your window. With a bit of effort, he opens it. You watch him slip outside. It was weird to see. His body is so long and dispassionate, seeing him slip out the window was.....interesting. But amusing.

He turns back to you. He raises his arm, waving. "I'll see you next time!" You wave back to him, a smile on your face. He steps back on the platform of the fire escape outside your window. He falls back, breaking the railing of the platform.

You don't bother checking to see if he's okay. Probably teleported with a hole before he hit the ground. Didn't stop you from letting out a gasp as he fell back. You walk over to your window to close it, so bugs won't get in. You look over to your shelf, seeing all the objects he brought back with him.

You can't wait for the next visit.

(Thank you for all the likes on part 1! I really appreciate all of you who like my writing. I'm not super confident about my writing, but it makes me happy seeing that people like it. Have a lovely day/afternoon/night!<33)

[jojobee2256]

Law x Snow Leopard Reader

UNEDITED

You limp away from your house as the flames grow higher and higher, illuminating the night sky with it's touch. The village men got you good with a metal pipe in your right hind leg before you could react to them barging into your home. You knew that the other island inhabitants didn't like you, that they thought of you as a devil like the fruit you ate, but this was ridiculous. You never bothered anyone unless they bothered you first, like now, and after a child never came back from the tundra they thought it was you. So they decided to come to your home to kill you because you were always the problem, not the wolves and their slowly growing hunting grounds or even the random blizzards. Fine, you didn't care about what happened to these people. You never even went to the town anymore just because you didn't want any trouble, so why couldn't they leave you alone. You had enough, you were leaving this island.

Just as you came to your decision you hear the cries of people coming from the snow wolves territory. Only fools would go there, they were very aggressive and territorial during this time of year let alone the fact that the cries were coming from the smack dab middle of their hunting grounds. You huff at the stupidity. Those villagers deserve it anyway, blaming everything on you. But then they might blame this on you too, no they would definitely blame this on you. You grumble a bit as you start to hobble run over to the sound of the people.

Once you get there you see that the two men you heard were not from the village, they dressed to oddly in some kind of jumpsuit for that, and that they were surrounded by a good dozen or so of wolves. Knowing these guys weren't villagers actually motivated you to help them more than if they were and you jump over to them and start to fight it out with the wolves. The men quickly collect themselves and start to help you in anyway they can, but there were to many of them for you and you are covered in claw wounds and bites by the time you scare them all off. You turn to the two men with a glare and they suddenly jump a bit and freeze, one had a blue cap with a red bill and reddish hair while the other wore a black and white hat that read 'penguin' with a red pompom on top. You start to walk around them in circles checking to see if they were injured, you had tried to make sure to keep the wolves away from them but a few did manage to get past you. After seeing only one scratch on the 'penguin' hat guy you walk up to him and lick his arm where the wound was before purring sadly as an apology and hobbling off before they could do anything.

After a couple of minutes the adrenaline wears off and you start to sway, looking back you see a blood trail following you along with your paw prints in the snow. Looking at your side where the painful heat seemed the most evident you see a large wound where a wolf most likely bit a piece of you off. It must have happened when they piled on top of you and you had to thrash around for a good minute to get them all off. This was not good, but you would have to suck it up until you left the island and found help on another one. No way the villagers would help you, heck they would probably finish the job the wolves started and then throw your body to them for dinner as a 'thanks for the help' kind of thing.

You kept trying to think of ways of leaving the island and getting help as you limped towards the sea where you thought the port should be. The only thing you could think of was hiding in a ship until another island and then changing into your human form to look for help from a doctor.

As you fall over a hill near the docks you notice everything was fuzzy and the edges of your vision was black. Who were you kidding, you would die before you could escape. you pass out feeling completely hopeless. Maybe the snow would cover up your body well enough so that the villagers wouldn't be able to find it and get the satisfaction of doing as they please to your lifeless corpse. Man it would suck if they decided to make a rug out of you.

As you regain your consciousness you hear the voices of several people. They were far off though and you couldn't quite hear what they were saying. You slowly open your eyes and see plain steel walls, the voices seemed to be coming from the other side of the steel door. As you look more you see a tube feeding a clear liquid into your front right leg and that your wounds were bandaged up neatly, unfortunately  you also noticed a a large chain on your left hind leg that connected to a large metal ball next to the heap of blankets and pillows you laid on. You growl and weakly stand up, slowly moving to the door. In the process you rip the tube out of your leg and are about to shift into your human form to escape the large chain that hung from your hind leg when the door swings open causing you to jump and fall down. You look at the man who entered the room as he chuckled at your reaction. He had on a white hat with black spots and a yellow hoodie with a jolly roger on it. His raven hair peeking out from under his hat and matching his goatee.

"Looks like you're up." I growl in hopes of scaring him off, but it only seemed to widen his smirk. "I don't really treat animals but since my crew insisted on-" The man was interrupted as the two men you had saved from the wolves barged in from behind the first guy and rushed over to you with streams of tears falling from their eyes.

"You're up! Thank god you are ok!" Cried the one with the blue and red hat.

"Thanks for helping us! You even got hurt badly for our sake!" The 'penguin' one added. "Shachi and I are really happy we found you when we did."

This made you a bit embarrassed, no one had ever thanked you before. You didn't really understand the situation, especially since you were chained up, but you did understand that these two must have followed your tracks and helped you out. Purring, you rub your face against the two men. You would have said something but since they were outsiders you knew they didn't realize that you were a devil fruit user so it was probably best to hide it until you knew you were safe. The two men start to stroke your fur and you lay down next to them staring at the first man as he stared at you. You turn to look at your chained leg and huff before looking back at the man, hoping he would get the message that you wanted it off.

"You seem tame enough, but I don't really think I can trust a wild snow leopard to roam my ship just yet." He says as he folds his arms. You huff again and stand up weakly causing the other two to worry slightly as you stumble back over to the pile of blankets and pillows.

"Aww, come on captain. You made her sad, she won't do anything. I promise" The 'penguin' guy pouted.

"Penguin's right captain, the chain isn't really necessary. Besides, if anything does happen it won't even be a challenge for you!" The one you assume is Shachi says. You grumble and stare at him at his last comment, slightly offended.

"Fine, but she has to stay in here until she is in a good enough condition to walk freely. You two are in charge of her until then and afterwards she has to be near me so I can keep an eye on her. If she mauls either of you it's not on me." He smirks as he says the last part and turns to walk away while the other two complain about how mean he was for saying that last part about being mauled and how you would never do that. You chuckle a little to yourself and feel yourself getting sleepy again. You fall asleep with Penguin and Shachi stroking your fur, talking to you about how much you would like it here and how they would make sure you were better in no time. They even threw in some praises about how great their captain was and how he could heal anything. Sticking around until you were healed up didn't seem to bad.

[havenroyals]

Stars of the New Horror Save Film: "You Know, You Should Have Stayed Your Black Ass Home!" The working title: "N*gga Noooo!"

Zuri Steffen (The Final Girl/The Virgin Stayin' In Her Lane Girl): She's the lovable, innocent one who minds her business, but people just insist on fucking with her. Yes, she has chafing friends and a shitty boyfriend, but she doesn't deserve death. Whatever someone else did, it don't effect her but that damn killer is obsessed. She just came to this abandoned cabin in the woods for a fun weekend. No, she does not drink or do drugs, but who else will be the designated driver. She might die last.

Luke Harper (The Jock/The Ex-Boyfriend): He didn't keep it in his pants; love - in fact - did not bring him home last night. Now, he's the ex still chasing those NFL dreams. Always the leader and making those dumbass decisions that might get somebody killed. He loves proving he's strong by asking random bitches to jump on his back for rides - not always on his back. He might die first.

Janelle Gaines (The Bad Girl/The One on Her THOT Shit): She is the sex-positive one who loves fucking. It's as simple as that; she has no shame. She copied Left Eye and wore a condom eye patch throughout college. She gave a fake ass apology when bestie caught her with her legs around Luke's neck. Bestie kinda forgave her, but everybody knows she's still fucking Luke. She might die first.

Titus Rawkis (The Academic/The Ex's Best Friend): He's the brother of the bestie; different Daddies - same Mama. He's simply a genuinely good dude with this velvety voice and piercing eyes. He has a journal to write poetry in, and he acts like he doesn't know he's a walking panty dropper. The most successful of the group. He should be working - yes, even on the weekends - but he let his homie convince him to come party in the woods. He might die last.

Darion Hayes (The Sceptic/The Half-White Friend): He's smart enough to know demons and ghosts aren't real. He's cracking jokes whenever someone is frightened of the bumps in the night. He's not wise enough to stay his ass out of those damn woods. Luckily, his "medication" keeps him calm and mellow as his friends randomly disappear. This is the clown that will suggest splitting up when the power goes out (it's his white side). He might die first.

Shari Mullin (The Killer/The One Who Set This Whole Thing Up): She was the ugly duckling and had a glow-up after college. With her elephant brain, she kept detailed records of everybody who fucked with her in order from pettiest to most extreme. Throughout the years, she wormed her way into the friend group, and now she's ready to get her revenge. She might die...somewhere.

[hikennosabo]

trimax vol 10 random thoughts (ch 5-8)

part 1 here.

okay, time for part 2. i don't want to do this, i have a pit in my stomach.

chapter 5:

destroying razlo's punishers... a good strategy!

getting leverage to jump by stepping on his leg, i love it

you could say he. he was. *wheeze*... i guess you could say he was... ...disarmed... [a comically large hook drags me off the stage]

wolfwood and razlo just met today (not technically but y'know), but he can read razlo so well already, taunting him like this.

THIS FIGHT...!!! it's reminding me of vash vs knives in the finale of the 98 anime! one black gun and one white gun, and them being on even ground, making the same moves...

they're an even match when they're just whaling on each other, but wolfwood has tactics that razlo doesn't. also this is an insanely cool move.

chapter 6:

^ how it feels to read trigun maximum (said again)

^ how it feels to read trigun maximum (said for a third time)

he knows wolfwood is dying. we know wolfwood is dying. he can't do anything to stop it. we can't do anything to stop it. (except for refusing to keep turning the pages, i guess)

THEY HAVE NAMES?

vash can't do anything to stop wolfwood from dying, but he can help wolfwood go out on his own terms...

PLEASE, HE'S ALREADY DYING, WE DON'T NEED YET ANOTHER DEATH FAKEOUT FOR THE BOOKS.

livio interfering... i'm not an expert but this is not how DID works. but sure. the drama carries it.

WHY AND HOW IS CHAPEL STILL ALIVE FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU

razlo realizes very fast that chapel never cared. despite his verbal denial, i think he was realizing way before this.

DESERVED!!! YES.... KILL!!!!!!

of course razlo can only attack. attack, like how he killed livio's parents. not that chapel doesn't deserve it, but this is the only thing razlo knows how to do.

ough. livio apologizing... "i'm okay now"...

so is razlo just gone now? like i said, i'm not a DID expert, i know re-integration(? not sure if that's the correct term sorry) is possible, but i don't know if this is how it works...

honestly, i feel bad for razlo. he only knew a life of violence, he was manipulated and indoctrinated by chapel, all he wanted was to be needed but his last experiences are finding out that chapel didn't care about him and then livio telling him he doesn't need him anymore. poor guy.

chapter 7:

oh, no, i don't want to read this chapter again. don't make me read this chapter again.

the difference between this and tristamp... stamp had the orphanage much more directly tied to EoM, and a bunch of guys in suits came to pick wolfwood up. this scene is a lot more "normal," a lot less obviously suspicious. idk if i'd go so far as to say stamp!melanie was in on the whole thing, but she doesn't look happy about wolfwood leaving... i do wonder how stampede will handle all this... ANYWAY!

"six years"... lmao. now i understand what people meant when they said the timeline is confusing. it's killing me and i hate it, actually?! nightow ALL you had to do was NOT specify a number!!!

the coins... i constantly forget about them and i find it funny whenever they're brought up... they were so clearly meant to set the ghg up as a shonen battle enemy-of-the-month type thing but then that got thrown off the rails when the magazine ceased publication and everything got turned upside down. yet the coins persist. what are they all for in the end.

also i'm sad. this is wolfwood's paltry attempt at pushing vash away. (also he's been carrying rai-dei's coin this whole time?! lol?! that's also sad... just waiting to give it to vash i guess...)

"this is the way you want it? are you sure?" i'm just fucking inconsolable at this point.

of course this attempt at sincere emotion is deflected. you boys are so, so, so, so, so stupid.

i can't do this man. i can't review the couch scene. i'm crying too much.

the prayer. this especially is getting to me. we've seen wolfwood pray a few times, but now it's vash's turn to pray. we've never seen him do that. and while vash was there to answer wolfwood's prayer... there is no one to answer vash.

what if i climbed into the microwave right fucking now.

ourgh. out of all the images in this chapter, this is the one that stuck with me the most. even more than the couch images. ugh, i can't even fucking write.

chapter 8:

i don't know where else to say this...? lol but livio's personality is different, he's cute now. is this because he broke out of the EoM brainwashing or because he integrated with(???) razlo? (once again: IS this how this works???) or is it both? either way he's a lot more expressive than he was before...

other people have already talked about how we didn't see the burial. i'm also thinking about everything else we didn't see. vash buried wolfwood, and he also cleaned up outside, brought livio in and laid him down, gathered ingredients and started cooking...

how long did he sit on that couch for before he moved. how much and how hard did he cry. we didn't see that either. we don't need to.

knives. he's smearing blood on his face again.

his laughter... i don't think he finds this funny like "haha funny" necessarily, i think he's just losing it.

vash defends the orphanage and knives doesn't even push it. he just moves on. hmm, i'm trying to articulate this... vash's display of power used up more of his life, which knives noticed obviously, and vash is willing to go that far to protect the orphanage... knives still doesn't want vash to die, and... he's laughing out of disbelief, or something like that. i don't know.

vash and livio sharing a meal together is... it's nice. but vash is still clearly very angry. with livio, with razlo, with himself too probably.

i don't know. i'm not angry with livio or razlo at all. they were both victims of chapel same as wolfwood. this is all chapel's fault in my mind, lol.

oh.

we're gonna see this in stampede too, aren't we. wolfwood will die for a third time and we're gonna see vash holding the punisher.

the fact that this volume doesn't even have the goofy author extra... we're just forced to sit with this. man. the book club wasn't kidding, it's so much worse the second time around. the first time i cried a little but i was mostly just taking it all in. the second time i was like actually heaving and sobbing. reading this volume twice within a few days was a BAD IDEA.

AND WE STILL HAVE FOUR VOLUMES LEFT. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GO ON AFTER THIS. four entire volumes without wolfwood...

[rowiewritesstuff]

Hello there ! I would like to ask for a match-up please♡ <:) possibly with TFP Autobots or Cons (only if you feel like doing it♡)

My name is Michaela and i'm 19. My height is 5'3 (159cm) and i am a ginger with mid long hair, freckles all over my face and honey brown colored eyes. My skin is pretty pale so i ususally wear light colored clothes like soft green and cream colored shirts (i mostly wear very baggy clothes cause i'm pretty slim) etc.♡ ^^

I'd say i'm pretty calm/shy person but sometimes my zoomies hit in and i have the urge to run around and playfight with anyone and anything i see (i love playfighting) :D i also very much enjoy spiritual conversations, stargazing, playing games and i'm also a sucker for atronomy. I love learning all about space. I'm pretty loyal and affectionate (ahem touch starved ahem) person what comes to friends and family i'm very protective of them. I am used to helping people so of course if you ask me for any help or anything in particular i am here to help. <3 I often try to play things cool and calm when anything bad happens but i am actualy screaming on the inside. I'm very careful and fearfull. I'm also trying to be open minded as much as possible and kind to everyone as long as they are kind to me back. I am basically your mirror. I also LOVE animals. Mostly parrots😭❤️ they are just so adorable when they show you affection🥺 the type of person when they see a random cat on street to stop by and just pet it or any animal😭❤️

Now what comes to my body i have a pear shaped body with pretty thin waist and a lot of small and big marks all over my arms, hands and legs. I sadly suffer from asthma so i need my inhaler at all costs if i ever get a asthma attack <:/ i am also lactose intolerant so milk is another no no for me. I rather spend time indoors but still i'm open minded for a nice car ride to any lake or water. I love swimming especially in sea.^^♡♡ my fav colors are orange, yellow, turquoise, black, soft green and white♡

I think that's all. I apologize if this is chaotic but i've never wrote a request :( i hope it's not too much♡♡ if you couldn't come up with anything feel free not to write anything at all <3 thank you so so much !♡♡♡♡

A daily note to take care of yourself, to drink water and eat enough food to keep yourself healthy !♡ ^^

I match you with: Optimus Prime!

You met Optimus during a Decepticon attack. You of course were taken to the base and assigned a guardian- Optimus Prime himself. Optimus first kept you at a distance, not wanting to get too close to you in fear you’d be used against him by the Decepticons. 

One day when Optimus was driving you home you yelled at him to stop. You were both in a secluded area out in the country. You jumped out of his cab as soon as he came to a stop and squealed in delight. He transformed thinking something was wrong but saw you looking at the sky.

“What are you looking at?” Optimus asked.

“The stars, the moon- everything.” You sighed happily. “In the cities, the smog makes it hard to see the stars. Here, you can see everything. It’s amazing.”

Optimus looked at you in awe, then to the sky. He’d forgotten what it was like to just enjoy the wonders of the world. He sat down and looked down when he felt something on his hand. You were cuddling to him for warmth as you fell asleep. He made sure that you got home safely, even going as far as placing you gently in your bed from your open window.

Optimus began taking you on regular trips to see things you liked. One time he took you to the ocean so you could play in the water. You didn’t care you were missing your swimsuit and simply ran in head first. Ratchet later scolded you when you got sick.

One day he took you to the jungle to see some monkeys and parrots, and you ended up being attacked by a tiger. He quickly scooped you into his hand and away from the tiger trying to eat you. 

When you started to breathe oddly after the tiger attack, he ran to Ratchet. Ratchet shook his head at you and handed you your inhaler. Optimus asked you what it was, and Ratchet explained. Optimus was concerned and began treating you even more like precious glass.

When it came to Decepticons, you were very cautious. You would always run and hide and call the base. One day a Vehicon scooped you up to hold you hostage against the Prime and you were terrified. You were frozen in their servo while they mocked Optimus.

“Let them go!” Arcee growled out.

“Fat chance Autobot scum!” They squeeze you tighter and you begin to panic. Your asthma begins to act up and the Vehicon looks down at you in confusion. “Is it broken?” 

Bumblebee takes the opportunity to slam into the Decepticon and snatch your body flying through the air. The rest of the Autobots quickly defeat the Vehicons and take you back to base to get your inhaler. From that moment on, Optimus was so scared you’d die before he could confess his feelings.

Optimus picked you up and placed you on his shoulder as he went to the top of the base. He sat down and offered his hands to climb on. He looked down at you with love. “I… must confess something.” 

You looked up with a knowing expression. “I love you too, Optimus.” 

The shock on his face was priceless. He then smiled softly, pulling you closer to his face. “Thank you, little star.”

[angelkissiies]

Open hand or closed fist

(the joker x reader x bruce wayne)

part 3/?

CW/TW : paranoia, fear, mentions of trauma and injury, some fluff and bonding. other things I can’t remember so please read with caution because this series is not for the faint of heart or minors.

word count : 3136

a/n : my deepest and most sincere apologies for how long this took, im so sorry if it’s not what you expected. I hope you enjoy ! Also I did not proof read bc damn this is long.

part two here

Sharp chills ran down your spine as you hesitated at the door of Bruce’s car. The weather had taken a plunge into the negatives as you’d been recuperating in the hospital, yet the chills weren’t from the harsh cold. It came from the realization that your life would be coming to an end, that you were walking directly into the hands of the man who wanted nothing more than the interface. One life to him meant nothing.

“(Y/n)?” Bruce spoke, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. He’d been with you through the entirety of your hospital stay, making sure you weren’t bothered by the GCPD during your recovery. He wished he could say that was his only angle, to be the support you needed- but if he did that would be a lie. He knew there was more to the story, more he needed to uncover to understand what The Joker could want with you. Was it just a random selection? Or was there something else locking you to the clown, something he couldn’t see. Despite everything, he was the perfect company. Card games and movies every night, lunch and dinner provided by some caterer that was much too expensive, and enough understanding of women to know when you needed some time alone.

His voice washed the intrusive thoughts away, like a bucket of cold water had been poured over your brain. “Yeah, sorry.” You apologized, ducking into the car. It was a nice contrast, seeing as you had begun to go mad at the endless off white of the hospital walls. His car was black, the interior a sleek gray- and it was made by some manufacturer you’d never even heard of. Typical though, he was, after all, a billionaire- it would make sense for him to have something expensive.

Bruce nodded gently, closing the car door with a soft click before coming around to the driver's side. The time with you had been fun, but not at all what he’d hoped. No new information could be expelled from you, nothing he didn’t already know so to speak. His only hope was the time you’d spend at the manor, somehow he needed to get you to confide in him. It made him feel guilty, he cared for you more than he’d be willing to admit and what he had planned felt like a massive betrayal. Some things required a filthy conscience. He slipped into the car, quickly closing the door to fight off the cold breeze. “All ready to go?” He asked, sending over a smile.

It took everything in you not to jump out of the car. “Yeah, we should hurry. We might be able to get there before the snow does.” Your body was ridgid, despite the warm air circulating through the car. You thought of the sleepless nights, jumping at every bump in the night. The persistent feeling of impending doom that had yet to subside in the weeks you’d been away, been safe. Something within you knew that you’d never really be safe, even within the fortress that was Wayne manor.. “I heard from the doctor before we left, they think it might turn into a blizzard.”

The car lurched forward, sending the two of you onto the main road. It was slick with patches of black ice, though that stopped nobody from speeding. The city was more alive than usual, the sound of sirens carrying through the streets as more and more people were bested by the elements. “Good thing Alfred stocked the pantries this weekend, or else, I fear we’d be reduced to cannibalism.” He joked, nudging you gently with his free hand. It was his best attempt, you had to give him some credit.

A light laugh fell from your lips as you threw him a smile, “I don’t suppose Alfred and I stand a chance against you.” It was true, the man was much taller, much faster, and much stronger than the butler and yourself.

“Oh definitely not.” The man boasted, taking a sharp turn onto the desolate road that led away from Gotham and towards the Arkham bridge that would take you directly to the main island. The road was barely ever used now, so much so that the Mayor considered closing off the road completely to avoid vandalism to the old asylum. It was pretty much immediately shot down, considering the other islands surrounding Arkham island would be almost completely inaccessible by car. Bruce was one of the voices opposing the shut down, more or less for the fact one of his family's homes sat on the land. “I don’t think I’d eat you though, you know too much about anatomy- you’d be too useful. I don’t think i’d be able to figure out which parts you can eat and-” He paused, letting out a slight laugh. “And I think I might be thinking about this too much. I promise I'm not a cannibal.”

You looked at him incredulously, letting out a deep belly laugh that sent a shooting pain into your ribs. “Bruce, I don’t think you could hurt a fly. Let alone eat someone.” It genuinely was one of the funniest things you’d ever heard, the man was probably the last person you could see yourself being scared of. The only hindrance in your joy was the aching that followed. Your ribs had taken to a steady throbbing pain, worsening with every deep breath- somehow, no matter what you did or even didn’t do, the constant reminder of the joker nipped the joy you felt.

Bruce had a content look on his face, biting back the urge to make a comment that might out him as the city's vigilante. It felt different after all this time, even though you were still the same person you were before the assault, he could feel something pulling you away from him. A nagging savior complex wanted to fly you away, somewhere far from this shithole of a city, though internally he knew The Joker had no limits to his insanity. He’d scoure the earth until he found his prize heffer. “So, have you been to Arkham Island before?” He asked, filling the silence that had settled thick between the two of you.

The trees passed by in a blur of white and green, the land around the cursed asylum finally beginning to heal. “Once, a long time ago. Wasn’t pleasant.” You responded, hugging your coat tighter as the frosty pane of the window came into contact with your hand. Even after all of this time, even after setting on the fact that Bruce could never know, you still had to resist the urge to confide in him. He’d stuck by you the past few weeks, sparing no expense to get you the best care, the best entertainment, the best company. He’d become a better friend than you’d imagined was possible, yet there was no way you could trust him enough to endanger his life.

Was anything really ever worth a life? Was your life worth this much effort? Why couldn’t you just end all of this? Whatever that might entail. Whether it be seeking The Joker out to live your life as he saw fit or taking matters into your own hands. Both were equally horrible outcomes, though they both seemed to be endgame. Which was the both of two evils, and would you ever be sure?

From the road you could make out the silhouette of a looming fence, the dark silver poking out of the snow like a sore thumb. It looked old, dated in style- which solidified your fears. This house wouldn’t be as protected as Wayne Manor would've been, sub par security from back before the Wayne’s were murdered and a lock and key gate made for a bad situation. Your eyes focused in on the tire tracks that laid ahead, the snow packed down where Alfred had arrived a day earlier. You had to admit, the idea of seeing the old man again lightened your heart. He had become a close friend during your stays at the manor, offering you tea whilst you worked on repairing the millionaire or steaming your coat without asking to make sure it would be warm for you before you left. His kindness was unmatched for the most part.

As Bruce parked outside the gate, he dug through his pockets- pulling out a key the size of an iphone before pushing his door open. “Just one second, the locks on the place haven’t been changed in awhile, so key it is.” He smiled, stepping out into the nippy winter air, the car door closing behind him. The man felt uneasy, though he played it off to his best ability, the creeping feeling of uncomfort being chalked down to your curious eyes that peered at him through the windshield. His hand shook slightly as he pushed the large metal key into the lock, turning it with a great deal of force before it gave way the the locking mechanisms yielded. The smell of copper filled his nostrils, making him cringe before pushing the gate inwards, as he mentally noted the fact that this place needed an upgrade. Truth was, he hadn;t been back here in years. The old place had been left to the elements, and with the sight of the manor, he definitely could tell the wear and tear was taking over the exterior.

The manor looked much larger than most would’ve imagined, built of stone and dark oak- it resembled that of a hunting lodge in the mountains. The rough stone had been left to the forest as moss began to creep up the sides of the building, creating a beautiful entanglement as if the history of the island had not tainted it yet. As you squinted towards the house to see more, a figure in the window caught your attention. The small lengthy frame belonged to Alfred, who stood waving the two of you in from the warmth of the manor. The sight brought a small giggle to you, imagining how long he had been there trying to catch the attention of the billionaire.

Bruce returned to the car only seconds later, causing a huff of freezing hair to rush in- violating the pleasant warmth that had settled on your skin. His hands were shaking slightly and his fingers had gained a bright pink hue from the harsh cold of the gate. “So, what do you think?” He asked, shifting the car into drive as he began creeping down the driveway.

You gave a small nod, letting your eyes explore the property. It was different, to say the least. After being stuffed inside of a dreary hospital room for so long, this was like being in a completely different country. The snow was pristine white, untouched. Unlike the melting, blackened snow you’d seen on your way out of Gotham. The air held silence, thick and looming in the absence of life. From the moment you;d crossed from the bridge onto the island, you’d heard nothing but the soft hum of the engine and Bruce’s voice. It was almost as if Arkham had become completely different in the weeks since your ‘visit.’ It was scary anymore, you could see every abandoned driveway and empty house. Hell, even the snow reflected that nobody else had been out this way, no tire tracks or footsteps as far as the eye could see. “It feels serene out here, It’s really lovely.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he came to a stop at the front entrance, “I’m glad you like it,” He said, turning the car off with a slight twist of the ignition. “It’s you and me, roomie, till further notice.”

As if on cue, Alfred scurried out of the manor bundled in one of the largest coats you’ ever seen. Anything you might’ve thought had completely vanished at the sight, the poor man could barely bend his arms in the thing making it a rather funny sight as he attempted to open the car door. You let out a small chuckle before opening it yourself, allowing the man the chance to step out of the way.

He graciously took it as he held the door open, “Welcome! I’m glad you two made it safely.” He spoke, offering his hand as you stepped out onto the half frozen ground. The snow crunched under your feet, prompting a small smile from the man before you. “Isn’t it lovely? I’ve been trying to get Master Bruce here to visit for ages.” Alfred let his eyes move to Bruce, squinting as he poked fun at him.

Bruce groaned in annoyance, the hint of a smile evident on his rosy cheeks, “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for that, Al.” He moved around the car, ushering the two of you up the stairs like a cattle dog before the conversation went on any longer. He knew how carried away his butler could get, which would lead to the pair of you getting hypothermia. As the two of you disappeared into the home, he lingered at the front door for a moment, he could feel something. Though there was no reason to, he found himself looking over his shoulder, peering back to watch for a threat. Something didn’t feel right, though maybe it could all be summed up to the feelings that arose in connection with his family's manor, but he couldn’t be sure. After all, the whole reason any of you were here was to ensure your safety. The Joker could be around any corner, watching through thousands of hidden eyes, awaiting the perfect moment to strike- so if there was one thing he knew without a doubt, it’s that he couldn’t get comfortable here.

Upon entering the home, you were hit with the strong scent of apples. It wafted through the hallways from the kitchen, the smell alone was enough to make your stomach grumble.”Alfred, It smells incredible in here, what are you making?” You wondered, taking in the decor of the house. It was definitely fancy, but it looked as if someone had a strong affinity for artwork as more than half of the walls were filled with beautifully painted pieces accompanied with framed family photos.

Alfred chuckled, turning briefly to make eye contact with you. “Apple strudels, they’re one of Bruce’s favorite sweets.” With that, he turned back and led you through a confusing labyrinth of a corridor. After a couple minutes of following the leader, he stopped before the bottom of a staircase which led to the left wing suites on the second floor. “I would accompany you up to your room, but I don't want to risk burning our snack. Your room is the third door down the right hall.”

You could tell he felt guilty, so you gave him a smile, nodding complacently. “Thank you, Alfred. Are my things up there by chance, I was wanting to maybe grab a shower.” During your hospital stay, the doctor was very adamant about keeping your stitching dry- so you’d only been able to shower three times, which left you feeling incredibly gross. The idea of being clean again was enough to make your entire night.

“Of course, The bathroom is also stocked with some things you might need.” He confirmed as he began back towards a door adjacent to the one the two of you had come through. He seemed to know this place better than Bruce did, which didn’t seem as much of a surprise- as he’d been with the family for more years than you could count.

The silence began to set in as you began up the stairs. It was reminiscent of your trek up to your apartment in Gotham. You’d spent months making the most out of the six floor hike up to your place, as the elevator had just completely given out randomly, so this was a piece of cake. Before you knew it, the landing was a few feet away littered with boxes filled with what looked like more framed photos. It was peculiar because the boxes looked old and worn, as if the Waynes had begun to pack up the house long before their deaths had transpired. ‘Not your business.’ You had to remind yourself. The topic had always (and would always) be a tender spot with the duo downstairs. You wrapped your arms around yourself tightly, taking the right turn down the hallway you’d be staying in. It wasn’t hard to pick out the door that now belonged to you, as it was the only one not covered in a thick layer of dust.

Upon first glance inside, you took note of the two bags that sat in the middle of the king sized bed. Undoubtedly, they were filled with fresh clothes and the other miscellaneous things you’d asked to be picked up from your apartment. As you gazed around you noted that the room was warmed by a fireplace, which sat burning behind a grill to keep the debris from entering the room. It all was incredibly beautiful, as the room took a rich red hue. Linens and decor alike were painted in shades of red and black, giving the room a gothic feel. You moved inwards, allowing the door to close behind you with a thud.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, moving to grab one of the bags. As you pulled it to yourself, a small box fell to the floor by your feet- seemingly after being wedged somewhere between your belongings. “Now, what is this?” You asked aloud, to no-one in particular, as you used your foot to bring the thing closer. Once within reach, you took it from its resting place on the floor. It was a small red box that had been tied shut with a white ribbon. It held no markings or branding, which is why you spared no time pulling the ribbon loose and gently removing the lid.

You felt yourself choke, letting the box fall to your feet once more. There was no way, this place was safe. It was Bruce Wayne’s house for Christ's sake. It hadn’t been empty since Alfred arrived yesterday, which meant that whoever snuck this in- was here when Alfred was, how else would they be able to get the box into your things? Your heart was hammering in your chest, eyes jumping down to land on the contents of your supposed ‘gift.’

A small silver chain with a dainty ‘J’ charm attached lay almost hidden in the carpet, the red hue enveloping it like a pool of blood. Inside the lid, which remained on the bed, was a note. With shaking hands, you unfolded it.

God, how you wished you’d never read it.

[abhainnwhump]

IMYM Chapter 24: A Night to Remember: Ribbon

<- Previous Chapter || Masterlist || Next Chapter ->

Ribbon worked on his new project. He figured out how to sew plushies and that became his new favorite thing to do. He worked on a bear. He was careful to sew the white star beads on, being sure not to prick himself. Sewing felt so normal and comforting.

Ribbon calmed down since the kidnapping and could finally relax. He didn’t cling to Nightmare. Well, he did, but not as much. He got back onto his routine with chores, calm activities, and love time with Nightmare. Ribbon didn’t even want to go outside because he was so scared of kidnapping.

Part of him heard the door open, but he was too focused on his project to register it. So hearing Nightmare’s smooth voice startled him. “It looks lovely, Ribbon. You truly have talent.”

Ribbon didn’t expect Nightmare’s voice and jumped. Nightmare chuckled. “I didn’t mean to scare you, my apologies.”

Ribbon pulled his string and chuckled. “It’s okay, Nighty! What did you want to ask me?” He pulled the bows on the waistband to make sure it would stay.

Nightmare watched him, rubbing his pointer finger and thumb together. “I have a business exchange in Mafiatale. I bought . . . something special and he told me to pick it up at a masquerade ball he’s attending. I want you to come with me, at least as an armpiece. There will be dancing and food, and it takes place at a nicely kept mansion."

“A party?” Ribbon looked up at Nightmare and set his supplies down. “But . . . I thought you didn’t want me to be exposed to anyone.”

“Only to people I don't like or trust. The monsters here I have more faith in. More, not entirely, but they won't kidnap you. And this is important. Very important, especially for you.” Nightmare held a hand out for Ribbon to take.

Ribbon took his hand and stood up, looking into Nightmare’s eye. He knew better than ever to turn down an order. He nodded, letting Nightmare caress his cheekbones. “Okay. Is there something in particular you want me to wear?”

Nightmare traced a hand down his body. “Nothing in particular, but I don’t want your body to be too exposed. Cover up. Oh, and include bits of gold to match my outfit.”

“Of course, Nighty!” Ribbon kissed his cheekbone. He had the perfect dress and necklace in mind. He was going to be so pretty for him!

==============================================================================

Ribbon had never been in a limo before. Nightmare said he was able to get one because of his associate. Ribbon liked the feeling of the leather seats and the view of the buildings zooming past. He rested his head on his gloved hand, Blossom leaned against his leg. Mafiatale was scary and dark, but also really cool. The random gunshots kept making him jump. Nightmare chuckled each time. Probably because he knew nothing could harm Ribbon while he was in the limo with him.

When he wasn’t looking out the window, Ribbon couldn’t take his eye lights off Nightmare. His high-collared silk shirt was black bordering dark teal. Across the left part of his chest were gold swirls and stitched symbols. A gold sash started at his right shoulder and ended at his waist.

Meanwhile, Ribbon’s outfit was the perfect mix of cutesy and fancy. He took Nightmare’s advice and had very little of his body shown. It was a soft white gown with a lacey layer over the bodice and leggings. Tight at the top and flowy waist down. He wore silky white gloves reaching his shoulders. He wore a choker with gold details like Nightmare’s outfit. Pinned to the back of his skull was a white bow.

Nightmare squeezed his gloved hand and kissed his cheek. “You look lovely, my little princess. It's a similar crowd to your show, they're going to love you.”

Ribbon blushed and nuzzled up to Nightmare, resting his head on his shoulder. Nightmare pulled him onto his lap. He kept petting his head, then he adjusted the bow on his head. Between the bumping of the limo and the soft pets from Nightmare, Ribbon could fall asleep if he wanted to. It was so cozy . . .

After another five minutes, the bumping finally stopped and Ribbon woke up. He looked around and his eyes immediately widened at the giant white mansion in the back. It was shiny with neat white landscaping surrounding a giant marble fountain. Ten lit lamps surrounded the sidewalk and made up for the black sky. The water looked clear and blue enough to drink. Some type of music and talking came from the inside. Nightmare took Ribbon by the waist and spoke something to the chauffeur. It was in another language that the doll didn’t understand. Italian maybe? That would make sense with Mafiatale.

Nightmare stepped out of the limousine and took Ribbon’s hand to help him out. Once Ribbon’s high heel touched the ground, he grabbed Nightmare to steady himself. The dark king chuckled. He squeezed his hand, then he walked up to the mansion, one tendril around Ribbon’s shoulders.

They stepped up to the entryway, Nightmare’s arm wrapped around his. He helped him balance on his high heels, even though Ribbon could handle them fine. He didn’t say it, but he liked how worried he was.

Nightmare stopped in front of the gigantic swirl-patterned doors. He turned to Ribbon and adjusted the choker on his neck, then he patted down his skirt.

Ribbon shook his head. He pulled his neck charm. “Nightmare, I look fine and you look great. You’re overthinking.”

“I know, but I want you to look perfect. Remember to curtsy and smile, show them you’re happy to be at my side. No talking to anyone unless I permit you to do so. I don’t want anyone . . . influencing you.”

“I am happy to be at your side. You know this! Just relax a bit, please.” The doll fixed his sash. It was slipping. “There. That’s better."

Nightmare smiled at him and pulled the door open. Ribbon shielded his eyes. It was bright, but pretty A blackish-blue theme ranged from the long rug on the floor to the walls. The bright part was the bright white lights on the ceiling. Nightmare talked to a guard in completely black clothes in the same weird language. The guard opened the bigger door. They walked through a short hall, and then they were at the party.

Golden chandelier lights shone down on a massive ballroom. The floor was made of orange and yellow tiles. Too loud, too bright, too big, too many people. Ribbon was immediately overwhelmed and overstimulated and clung tighter to his boyfriend. Not even being in the scarier and bigger AUs stressed him out this much. It was way more than his show! And the lights were dark

Nightmare’s tendril rested on his shoulder, protecting him. “Is this too much for you?"

Ribbon nodded his head. He didn't complain out loud because he didn't want to make Nightmare upset. He could have sworn everyone was staring at him, he had a bad feeling about this. But he felt better with Nightmare holding his hand. What could go wrong when he was here? Nightmare walked with him through the party and crowd. Ribbon listened to the whispers of people nearby. He took a deep calming breath. clinging onto Nightmare.

Nightmare grinned and ran his fingers down his skull. The gentle touch helped. “Shh, you’re fine. I’m here.”

Nightmare walked inside with Ribbon still on his arm. His heels clicked against the floor, people whispered about him. Nightmare nodded in greeting to people. Ribbon hated all the noise. He recognized a couple of people from when Nightmare made him sing in that club. Ribbon looked up at a platform in the back of the room, behind the stairs. Would he have to sing again? He shivered.

Nightmare pulled Ribbon ahead and stopped. He set his gaze on a monster, but Ribbon couldn’t see who, at least not well. But then they stepped out and held a hand out to Nightmare. “Lord Joku, it’s a pleasure. ”

Ribbon couldn’t figure out the monster’s accent. He was a fox with brownish-gray fur and sharp features. He sported a black suit vest over a white collared shirt. Ribbon liked how shiny his gold watch was. Pretty . . .

“So this is the little cutie you took under your wing, hm? Sorry, I couldn't make it to that show.” Warg looked him over. “My, you’re even cuter than how Nightmare described you. Especially those twinkling little eyes, they’re beautiful.” The fox reached a hand out to touch his face. The doll cringed with an awkward smile. He curtsied anyway.

Nightmare’s tendril swatted it away and shielded Ribbon. “If you prefer to leave with your spine intact, keep your filthy paws off him. No one is allowed to touch him without my permission, which you don’t have. I’m here for business only.”

Ribbon mouthed a ‘thank you’. Nightmare squeezed his hand tighter.

“Buzzkill,” Warg muttered. He fiddled with one of the pockets on his vest. His paw wrapped around something and he gave a sharp-toothed smile. “Anyways, if it’s business you want, it’s business you’re going to get.”

“Excellent.” The dark king turned to Ribbon. He looked back at the fox. “I’ll be back, there’s something I have to do first. Pardon me.” Nightmare took Ribbon by the hand and led him toward the staircase. He listened to the nearby crowds and voices.

“Aw, I recognize him."

“He almost looks like the fallen guardian."

“He’s so cute in that dress.”

“Oh great, the Lord of Negativity is in love."

Ribbon blushed in embarrassment, but something in him felt good. They were scared of Nightmare, and by extension scared of him. He moved closer to Nightmare as he climbed up one of the massive staircases. The thin shiny steps were tricky with his high heels. He looked down at the party and felt even bigger. He grinned wide.

Ribbon stepped onto the cream-colored balcony and set his arms on the chipped barrier. The sky was amazing, covered in glittery stars. He could still hear the party behind him, but it was mild background noise. Cold air blew on his face, but he didn’t mind. Nightmare held his tendrils up to intimate and scare off the few people on the balcony. Nightmare brought him into the corner between the balcony and the wall.

Nightmare pushed him into the corner and pinned him, blocking him with his tendrils. "I’m afraid I have to do this alone, my little doll. You must stand right here, don’t move a single step. I will return to you as soon as possible, then we can return to enjoying the party. I’ll dance with you and you can sing, okay?”

Ribbon’s eye sockets widened at the idea of being without him. “Why can’t I go with you? You said that we would spend the night together-"

Nightmare raised his right hand; Ribbon stopped talking. Nightmare set a hand on his pull string. “Believe me, I wish I could bring you along, but you will soon understand why I can not. Think of it as a . . . little game, see how long you can last without me. Also, you have permission to attack anyone who threatens to hurt you. If you manage this, you’ll receive a reward, understand? Good.” He took his sash off and wrapped it around him for a little warmth. He kissed his neck and left him on the balcony.

Ribbon was alone. Well, by definition, he was lonely. But he wasn't going to let Nightmare down. He stepped behind the massive curtain that hid between the wall and the balcony. That feeling of powerfulness faded without him. Oh, who was he kidding before? He was only strong when he had Nightmare to guard him! Ribbon hugged the sash. It smelt like Nightmare, bitter apple cider.

Calm down, it’s not a big deal. He’s just in another room. Maybe I should go downstairs and look for him? No, he’d be disappointed. Do as he says and stay here.

The doll looked off the balcony. The faint sound of sirens rang from the distance, along with some screaming. Music played from behind him. He couldn't feel Nightmare's negative aura, but he had to be close. Ribbon squeezed the sash. He stepped slightly out of the corner to see better. Being alone wasn't so bad!

The sounds of broken static cracked from next to him. “I’ve never seen a Sans in a stupid dress like that before. Who are you supposed to be?”

Nevermind.

Ribbon jumped back as he tried to see who was on his left. It was a skeleton with black bones like Nightmare. He wore a simple black suit with a bow tie matching the blue stripes on his face. ERROR signs and white particles danced around him. His right hand dangled a giant plastic cup of chocolate from the fountain. Something about this guy was familiar, but Ribbon couldn’t put his finger on it. It reminded him of someone you see as a background character in a dream.

“Wait, Ink? It’s you?” The stranger strode closer, his grin growing. Ribbon backed up. “I wastold Nightmare killed you, but I knew that was fake because of that doll plan he made. Huh, it actually worked. And they replaced you with Fresh. Ugh." He rolled his eyelights. Why did his voice glitch like that? "I heard about your funeral and stars above, you look ridiculous. Are you wearing perfume? I smell cherry blossoms.”

Ribbon’s instincts drove him to an uncomfortable curtsy. He trembled on his heels, but remembered he still had Blossom on him. He took the parasol off his back, remembering Nightmare's words. He knew it was a good idea to have an outfit that fit with Blossom! Ribbon leaned on his parasol as the point stabbed into the ground. He pulled his string. “Sir, I . . . I don’t know you. And I’m not allowed to talk to strangers. so please leave me alone.”

The skeleton stopped. His snicker turned into a full glitchy cackle. “Did you call me sir? And you curtsied? What happened to your voice? Holy stars, where do I even start? Did Nightmare wipe your memory or something? You know, that would actually explain a lot. My name is Error, and I’m your sworn enemy.”

He tried harder to place him, but his mind kept playing static. His mind offered him a blurry memory. Ribbon blew raspberries at him while he was sewing skeleton dolls. Why would he act that immature? Dolls would never do that. Frenemies, that’s what he and Error were. But he didn’t know why. Something to do with the AUs? Ribbon lit up. “Oh, now I remember you! I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you earlier. How have you been?”

“Eh, not too bad. It’s been easier to destroy AUs without you getting in the way. Dream and Core are still problems, but they're easier than you. Since when did you get so . . . polite? It's creepy." Error tilted his head. "Where did you get that dress? It doesn't look like the kind Nightmare got.

Ribbon smiled, relaxing his grip on Blossom. “Since I’ve been trained! Nightmare’s the best.” He spun around in his dress, giving Error a better view. “I made it myself! Nightmare taught me how to sew! But he gave me this choker, I didn't make that.”

Error broke into another laughing fit. Ribbon didn’t get what was so funny. “You’re joking, right? Nightmare is a dick, he wouldn't be so soft to teach you to sew. You gotta be lying, or you're that stupid. I can't believe you ate up everything he told you."

Ribbon gasped and covered his mouth. He didn’t care that he was laughing at him, but he was making fun of Nightmare! He tightened his grip Blossom and stormed up to Error. “He is not bad and I'm not lying! Be quiet! He is worth more than you will ever be! He is perfect!”

“Aw, did I offend you and your ‘boyfriend’?” Error’s mocking tone trailed off as he squinted at Ribbon. The doll sensed the suspicion, a look he remembered from back when he was bad and disobedient. Error reached into his pocket and took out a pair of red glasses. He put them on and looked at Ribbon again. “Wait a minute, you didn’t have a babyface before getting taken by Nightmare. Is that plastic surgery?” He stepped back and walked around him. “You’re a lot shorter too, which is impressive because I didn’t think you could get shorter. It’s like you exchanged your height for curves. What kind of workout is he putting you on?”

Ribbon didn’t know how to explain that. He kept his mouth shut and hoped Error would lose interest. He couldn’t make himself move either, he had Blossom, but he worried about something else. If he moved too much, Error would get more suspcious, which would make him more likely to find out, which would-

Error kept looking him over until pausing at his shoulder. “Hey, what’s this?” Error’s strings pulled away part of his dress to show off his silver stitches. Ribbon’s hand flew to cover them, but it was too late. Error’s strings traced over the thread. Ribbon fidgeted in his hold.

“Stop touching me! Please! I’m not allowed to talk about it! I’ll get in trouble! Get away from me!” Ribbon lifted Blossom and twirled, slicing Error across the face. “Stop! Stop, st-" His voice cut off when the string returned.

Error jumped back as Ribbon's voice cut. Error wasn't hurt badly. But with the way he pulled his hand from his cheekbone, he looked surprised Blossom was sharp. Calming down, Ribbon huffed and pulled his string, making his voice sound normal again. Error's eye's socket glitched over, he must have thought the charm was part of the choker. "What . . . what the hell?” He asked, mostly to himself.

“Error, that’s mine.”

To Ribbon’s relief, a familiar sludge-covered limb nudged his shoulder. He sighed and ran to Nightmare. Nightmare offered him a tendril to hug while his arms were crossed, glaring down at Error. The destroyer looked somewhere between baffled and uneasy. "There you are."

“Usually, I would say thank you for keeping an eye on him,” Nightmare said. “However, I could sense his fear from the basement, among a manor of other souls. To be fair, he’s easy to scare when alone, but there was no need to take advantage. Only I can do that.”

“Come on, I was having some fun. Look at him, he’s fine!” Error smiled, though it twitched. Ribbon trembled and whimpered. “I’ll admit it, you were right. I thought this idea of yours was stupid and would go horribly wrong. But you trained your toy well, I didn't even recognize him at first. I'd believe he was a doll if I didn't know.

Nightmare raised a browbone. “Toy? Now, where did you get an idea like that?”

Error watched Ribbon snuggle into his tendril with a smile of bliss and safety. His already stressed smile faded into a scowl. His browbones furrowed as he put two and two together. “Wait, you two aren’t actually dating, right? You told me you were going to fake it. anomaly four hundred forty-four, don’t give me that look. Tell me you two aren’t a thing.” His voice glitched more.

“We are!” Ribbon exclaimed. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! I love him!"

Error’s amusement faded into dust. He stared at Nightmare like he wanted to punch him in the face and grind him into calamari. “That . . . is disgusting. And it violates our deal."

“Yes, we have feelings for each other, end of story.” Nightmare rolled his eye light. “Ribbon, we’re returning to the dance. I’ll stay by your side this time.”

Error growled. “Oh no, you’re not leaving until I get some real answers!” He clawed at his eye sockets until blue strings came out. He jerked his hand and the threads shot at Ribbon. Ribbon jumped into defense mode, but Nightmare pushed him aside. He blocked the strings with his tendrils.

“Nightlight, hold on! Let me give you a hand!”

Without turning around, Nightmare tapped his middle finger, pointer finger, and thumb together. Ribbon dropped to his knees, hands in his lap, still and silent. As a doll should.

Error froze, stunned. “What the actual- what is he, your dog?”

Error was so distracted, he didn’t see Nightmare slam a tendril into his ribs. He crashed into a pillar. The dark king raised his fist and brought it down on his chest. Error caught his hand and strangled him with his strings. Ribbon struggled between the urges to help and stay put and obey. He closed his eyes.

He didn't see what happened next, but he listened to their screaming, the punching, and the violence. Then everything went quiet. Ribbon kept his eyes closed until Nightmare pet him on the head. Ribbon gulped and looked him over. “Are you hurt? What happened to Error?"

Nightmare helped him stand. “Ah, no. But I appreciate the concern. I threw him off the balcony,” His tendrils brushed down Ribbon’s dress, which got dirty in the scuffle. “There, much better. Come along now.”

Ribbon tried to stand on his tiptoes and almost toppled off his heels. He couldn’t see Error anywhere. He couldn’t hear his glitching either. “Is he going to be okay?”

“That is none of our concern. Now come along. I won’t say it again.” Nightmare took the back of his skull and turned him around. He had a tight grip on his hand that would’ve hurt if Ribbon could feel it. Once they were back inside, he softened his hold and voice. “I apologize for my aggression. I was just worried he would damage you. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, he spooked me, that’s all.” Ribbon worried if that was the right thing to say. It didn’t hurt, but he still felt Error’s strings on his shoulder. Why was he acting so weird? His new body was better, but Error acted like it was nasty.

Nightmare must have sensed his emotions because he wrapped him in his tendrils. He pulled him close to his body and let Ribbon breathe. “Certain? You’re not considering anything, are you?

Ribbon cupped Nightmare’s cheekbones and kissed him, hoping to calm him down. “Nightmare, I belong to you. You know I belong to you, it’s in the contract and I have your mark on my chest, remember? No one will ever make me want to run away! Please don’t be upset.”

“I’m not upset.” Nightmare looked a bit calmer, but his body was still tense. “This is why I don’t take you out in public. You’re too easy to trick. Come on, we’re going back downstairs.”

Nightmare grabbed Ribbon by the hand and brought him back to the party. He looked behind himself as if Error was going to jump back and drag him to the Anti-Void.

By the time they got down there, a slow song started and the lights dimmed. Nightmare took his hand and kissed his knuckles. “May I have this dance, my lady?” he asked with a joking tone.

Ribbon smiled. “Yes, yes you may.”

Nightmare wrapped one arm around his waist and held hands with the other. He took the lead. “Just as we practiced now.”

The artist clenched his teeth to stop himself from grinning. Nightmare didn’t know about the extra practice he was taking on his own. His ballerina build made it easier to dance. Not that he couldn’t dance before, but he was lighter on his tiny plastic body.

They started a waltz. Nightmare swayed him across the floor. Ribbon made sure not to trip on his feet. It wasn’t like he was going to screw up, he was literally trained to dance in battle. He didn’t want to ruin things, especially when he was having so much fun. He gripped Nightmare’s hand tighter. Ribbon looked up at him as Nightmare’s twirled him around. It was scary at first, but this was turning into one of the best nights of his life.

Ribbon’s thoughts shifted back to Error. He looked at the balcony, then at the door. He gripped tighter to Nightmare's shoulders. Silly, Error wasn’t coming back, Nightmare took care of him! But still . . . something was on his mind.

“Nightlight? Can I ask you something?” Ribbon whispered against his chest. "Am I even allowed to talk right now?"

“You have my permission. Is something wrong?”

“Yeah, Error said something back there that was . . . kinda weird.”

Nightmare scowled and his grip tightened on his hand. “What did he tell you?”

“He said something like . . .” He made a bad impression of Error’s voice, “‘I’m surprised Nightmare hasn’t killed you yet'. Then he told me how stupid I was for ‘believing your lies’. I know he was trying to trick me, but I was still scared. I fought for you though!" He gulped before asking the big question. “Are you planning to kill me?”

Nightmare brought him in a low dip before pulling them back together and answering. “Error is dangerous. Erratic. Manipulative. Twisted. Emotionally unstable. A sociopath. You can’t rely on anything he says. I’m sorry you crossed paths with him at all. I should’ve never left you on your own, my mistake. Yes, I did visit him the day before our first date so I could ask for . . . advice. I may have made my intentions unclear, but no, I don’t plan to kill you. The mere opposite.” He booped his nasal bone. “I plan to keep you forever.”

Ribbon sighed in relief. He knew it. His love would never hurt him like that. Sounds like a good thing he could barely remember who Error was. He didn’t want to remember either. The artist knew he had a life before Nightmare, but the details turned blurrier each day. He didn’t care about his old life if Nightmare wasn’t in it. Stress off his mind, Ribbon relaxed and focused on dancing. He could autopilot after a while.

Left foot up, right foot back. Don’t let go of Nightmare. Ribbon closed his eyes and imagined them dancing like this a few years from new. His heart beat faster at the thought alone. He hoped Nightmare never got bored of him. Ribbon stood in his tiptoes and pecked Nightmare.

The rest of the party had no more attacks, so it was great. They spent most of it dancing, but they also had drinks and talked casually. Ribbon wasn’t allowed alcohol, so he had punch instead while Nightmare drank wine. Nightmare never let him leave his sight. He was always keeping a tendril around his waist, keeping an arm around his, holding his hand. He had a dreamy look in his eye whenever he stared at Ribbon, which made him feel lucky and important. Nightmare never looked at anyone else like that. He had a few more talks with associates of his. Ribbon kept silent during all of them, earning some praise for Nightmare about how good of a trainer he was. They told him Ribbon was a very well-behaved and quiet doll.

Nightmare decided to leave without announcing it. He wrapped an arm around Ribbon’s shoulders and led him out. Ribbon was dizzy from party fever, plus his social battery was low. When was the last time he was around that many people and not killing and or torturing them? It had to be almost a year ago.

He expected Nightmare to wait for the limo and use a portal to go back home, but then he took a turn. He held Ribbon’s wrist and walked with him to the back of the mansion, near the garden. Ribbon looked around in confusion. The flowers and plants were pretty, but he didn't get what was going on.

When Nightmare found a clearing, he slipped in front of Ribbon and put his hands on his shoulders. “Ribbon, we need to talk. I have something to ask you.”

The adrenaline in Ribbon dimmed down. He tried to figure out where he messed up at the party. Was he too loud? Too autonomous? Did he embarrass Nightmare? The doll lowered his head. “I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

“Oh on the contrary. You were excellent out there. Your dancing in particular impressed me, I didn’t know you could move like that.” Nightmare laughed to himself, which made Ribbon feel a lot better. “No, I wanted to discuss something else.” He turned around and walked a short bit.

“I understand we’ve been together for less than a year, but you have made such an impact on my life. I meant it that first night in Outertale when I said you’re special, even if it wasn't in the way I thought. You’ve affected me in a way no one else ever has. And I know I’ve improved youin more ways than one. I will be truthful, I’ve been debating this for several weeks, but now I know it’s the right time. After all, what’s a king without his queen?”

Ribbon didn’t have time to answer before Nightmare got down on one knee and took a small box out of his pocket. Slipping his thumb between the velvet lid, he opened it to a beautiful black ring. The dark band held the biggest and shiniest diamond Ribbon’s ever seen. Little blue particles and swirls glittered inside. “Ribbon Eve Adela, I vow to love you for all eternity. I’m offering every part of me in exchange for every piece of you. We’ll be the strongest love in a new multiverse, one of our own design. But before that, I need to ask. Will you marry me?”

If Ribbon still could, he would’ve vomited paint there and then. Besides that, he barely held back his excitement. “Yes! YES! A million times yes!” He threw himself at his new fiancé and they both fell backward. Nightmare groaned and Ribbon realized his mistake, he forgot about his positivity.

The doll muttered an apology and started to pull away, but Nightmare’s tendrils hugged him back. “No, don't pull back. I like your positive emotions. Stay here, don't worry.” He took Ribbon’s hand in his own. “Here, put it on.”

The dark king removed his right glove and slid the ring over his fourth finger. It fit like it was always meant to be there. Ribbon flexed his hand, reflecting the moonlight to make it shimmer even brighter.

“I love it! I love it, I love it!” Ribbon exclaimed. He leaned in and kissed Nightmare as a thank you. Nightmare didn’t mind returning it. Under the moon, he could’ve stayed there, kissing his soon-to-be husband forever.

[jujutsukatsuki]

Collage Au! Sweetheart!Art Student! Dabi x reader

All relationships start out the same. Neither one knows of each other’s existence. Then one day, the paths cross and it feels like the stars have aligned.

You and Touya were in your second years of college, he was a art major and You were a psychology major. You met in a quiet library. He pushed the cart of returned books around one of the aisles of bookshelves. His box dyed black hair was a bit wild as he walked around.

You were stood in the aisle he turned into, flipping through a book. You seemed deep in thought as Touya, or Dabi as he preferred to be called, rounded the corner into that aisle. He stopped as he stared at you in all your beauty, he was mesmerized by you.

He was too nervous to get your attention normally, which was strange, normally he had no issues talking to women. Dabi took the library cart and pushed it a little closer to you, you didn’t lookup. You were chewing on the end of your pen as your eyes skimmed through the page. He frowned before grabbing a random book and putting it on the shelf next to your head. Nothing. He pretended that he accidentally dropped a book, it made a loud thud noise against the carpeted floor. You finally looked up.

“Hi, I’m so sorry.” Dabi faked his apology as he bent down and picked it up, your eyes followed him as he stood back up, book in hand.

“Just catching up on some reading..” he hummed and looked at the book that read ‘what to expect when you’re expecting..’

Your eyebrows raised as you looked at him, the corner of your mouth turned up in a small smirk.

“Oh! Uh- just curious what women go through.. you know..” he awkwardly laughed “I’m Touya Todoroki, or Dabi.”

You giggled at him and bookmarked the page.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n, my friends just call me Y/n.”

The two of you went and sat down at a table and talked quietly

“So do you work here?” You asked him

“What? Oh, no, I just found that library cart and decided to push it around.” He chuckled, being completely serious

“That’s so... weird.” You giggled quietly, he was so cute, piercings and tattoos and all.

“Is not!” Dabi chuckled and defended himself

“Well… Yeah I guess it’s a little weird.” He chuckled and ran his painted black fingernails through his hair.

You smiled and admired his face, how handsome he was, how white his teeth were, how he got cute little wrinkles by his eyes when he laughed, he was gorgeous.

First dates are important, it’s the signal of starting to let someone into your life, letting them get to know you.

Dabi straightened his leather jacket collar before knocking on your dorm door, a bouquet of red roses in his hand as he lightly cleared his throat, trying to brush the nerves away. The door swung open, revealing your attire for the night.

“You look... gorgeous.” He said breathlessly, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, the cool metal of his rings felt great on his hot skin.

You blushed as red as Touya’s normal hair color as you look at him. “You look great too.” A small smile on your face as he gave you the roses.

“I got these for you, I hope you like them.” He watched as you sniffed one, your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in how sweet they smelt.

“Thank you, they are gorgeous.” You kissed his cheek before setting them on your desk.

A fancy restaurant just off campus was the venue for the night then a ice cream parlor followed it up.

“And so then my younger brother, Natsuo, decided it would be a great idea to jump in a freezing cold lake in the middle of winter to wake us up,” Dabi laughed as he told the story. You smile and watch as the features on his face change with each detail of the story.

Falling in love isn’t just about the person as a whole. It’s the little things, like how their smile grows when they think of the dumb things they did with their brothers, or how their laughter sounds. It’s treasuring every second you have with them, never feeling bored while you’re around them.

Dabi walks you down the hall to your dorm, his leather jacket is wrapped around your shoulders, your heels in his hand as you had mumbled about how uncomfortable they were. In his other hand was yours. Fingers intertwined as you talked about everything and nothing all at once. Neither of you wanted this to be over. But here was your dorm room door pressed against your back as you looked up at him.

“Do you wanna come in?” Your voice is soft as you talks to him, his blue eyes staring into yours, his tongue glazed over his bottom lip before he nodded.

“I’d love to.” He smiled and walked with you into the small room.

The rain pours as the two of you lay in your bed staring at each other, Dabi studies your face as the moonlight shines in from outside. You reach a hand up and rested it on his cheek, thumb stroking the small hint of stubble.

“Promise me you’ll never leave me.” You said to him, Dabi can hear the fear in your voice.

“I will never ever leave you Y/n.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. You melt into the kiss, his lips were a little rough compared to your soft ones, but you didn’t mind, you never minded.

Long-term relationships mean unconditional love. It means being with someone for so long that you’ll always love them. No matter where they are or what they are doing.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lay back on the warm beach towel. Fuyumi is laid next to you as she watches you check your phone for the umpteenth time that day. You were waiting to see if Dabi was back from his trip with his art class.

“He’s gonna text Hun. Don’t worry, my brother is head over heels for you.” Fuyumi smiles at you and pushes up her glasses. “Plus, you guys have been together for like two years, you guys are moving in together soon! He’ll text!”

“I know, I just miss him, this is the longest I’ve gone without Dabi in a really long time.” You put your phone in your bag and put your sunglasses back on.

Fuyumi smiles as she sees Dabi walking up, meaning her plan worked flawlessly once again.

“I think you should look at who's walking towards us.” She hummed causing you to sit up and pull your sunglasses down to look.

“Dabi!” You yelled, jumping up and running toward him, Dabi chuckled and ran to you. He grabs you tight.

“Hi, baby girl.” He said in your ear as he hugged you. You squeezed him tightly, breathing in his scent that you missed so much. Dabi rubs your back as he softly kissed all over your collarbone, neck, and cheek.

“I missed you so much, you weren’t supposed to be home for a few more days, what happened?” You asked as you pulled back and looked at him, he smiled and cupped your cheeks.

“I asked to come home a few days early because I missed you so bad, so here I am.”

You squealed before hugging him again.

As happy as a relationship can be, one day in the blink of an eye, you fall out of love. It happens so fast, that you don’t even get time to process it happening.

“God I just can’t stand you anymore!” Touya yelled at you as you fought about god knows what. All the two of you seemed to do was fight lately.

“Do you even love me anymore?!” You yelled back, your voice strained from all the yelling, tears building up in your eyes as there was an uncomfortable silence as he hesitated to answer.

Dabi could barely give you an answer, his words fell out of his mouth at a volume just above a whisper.

“I'm sorry.. y/n... I really am..” a few tears roll down his cheeks

“Is there someone else? Am I not good enough anymore?”

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop but the only sound that was heard was your heart-shattering. You sat in a chair in the living room with your head in your hands

“No- no no.” Dabi went and kneeled in front of you, he gently grabbed your hands in his and made you look at him, tears cascaded down your cheeks.

“There’s nobody else, I promise. I did love you, I promise, I do love you, but I don’t know if I love you like that anymore. I wanted to marry you, I bought the ring and everything, but, y/n, I feel stuck, I feel like if I had asked you to marry me, I’d be stuck forever, and I don’t want that, and I couldn’t bear to do that to you.” He said as he sniffled

You couldn’t even speak, you just cried, you cried so hard you couldn’t breathe. Dabi felt horrible.

That’s the thing about relationships, they can have a happy beginning and a happy middle, but the ending will break your heart.

[medea10]

Medea Played Pokemon Scarlet & Violet, The DLC's (Part II)

Okay, let's check out Blueberry Academy.

If you'll indulge me for a second...

BLUE HIS HOUSE

WITH A BLUE LITTLE WINDOW

AND A BLUE CORVETTE

AND EVERYTHING IS BLUE FOR HIM

I apologize for nothing. Moving away from the random musical interlude. This academy is a floating terarium in the Unova region.

And here's our first nod to the Black & White games. The girl with the pink hair is Lacey.

She came from this guy's penis.

Oh, there are more surprises this DLC has.

This rich-ass school has four places in this dome, the canyon, the coast, the savanna, and the polar. Many, many, many pokemon not in the original game are there. Yes, all the starters. There is however, a hefty price tag for that.

Aside from the vending machines at the rest areas, you are to pay with BP's (Blueberry Points). And you get that by doing Blueberry Picnics (BBQs). Unfortunately, the tasks are only worth like 100 or something cheap like that. And if you want ALL the starters, you have to have a grand total of 12,000 points. And so much more points if you want to decorate your club room, put music in it, print items, challenge the elite four, buy special items at the school cafeteria, get new features for selfies, learn new throwing styles, invite coaches like Larry, and catch legendaries.

Phew, that is a lot. My recommendation, host and/or join BBQs. If you're like me and are prone to playing solo, there are some Discord groups that offer a lot of opportunities. The group quests are something you'll need to get more legendaries. Moving on.

You will eventually meet up with Carmine. Her brother however...

Kieran becomes an angsty teenager who should just go back to his dorm room, put on some My Chemical Romance, and cry into his knock-off Ogerpon teal mask.

More importantly, Kieran is the champ of the school. Higher than the elite four. You know where this is going. You have to challenge the elite four and then Kieran.

That's when you're introduced to Drayton. And it better be obvious to you by looking at this kid. He's a slacker. He was the ex-champ. He's definitely a dragon-type trainer. But more importantly, he is the grandson to Unova gym leader Drayden.

And as you can tell, Carmine hates this guy's guts. Drayton will sucker you into challenging the elite four. There is pushback as you are merely an exchange student. But you do get the support of two members and Kieran just wants to defeat you. Yeah, we'll see how that turns out for you.

Okay, let's take on the E4. Please note that every single battle you do here are double battles. And give this game some credit, these are not easy battles. Not even the random trainers are.

Let's battle Amarys first. Just like the gyms in Paldea, you have to do certain tasks first before the battle. Amarys has you and Koraidon jump through hoops. Kinda like a Mario Party game.

I have my own theories about this girl as I think she's the product of Lenora and her white husband Hawes. But apparently, she's from Castelia City and Lenora is from a different town. So, that theory ends with me. Also, she's a steel-type trainer.

Next, let's battle Crispin.

He's a fire-type trainer. His first task is to make him a spicy sandwich. I have no theories of where this kid came from. The second I saw Crispin and his cooking attire and his pan...

And all I can think of is Kuga from Food Wars. They're both spicy boys who cook. And they're both in an elite group where they both are on the verge of getting kicked out.

Drayton's trial can be tricky if you're walking into this blindfolded. You have to face three trainers only using pokemon you caught in the Terarium. Raids in the terarium do not count. Traded pokemon technically caught in the terarium do not count. Once done, you can battle the dragon boy.

And as for Lacey...

Urp.

I'm resisting the urge to not bring up learning about Venonat's radar eyes from Tracey Sketchit in the second season. Oh wait, I still said it. You should know me by now.

Lacey's trial is a quiz with 5 questions. It's actually the easiest trial. As long as you know where she sleeps on Granbull and which is the true Sinistea.

Kid, I'm about ready to put you through a wall. Sigh. Let me just waste this wannabe punk.

You are going to battle Kieran. Much of the school and the E4 come out to watch you. And if you want to watch this boy suffer, put Ogerpon in your team.

So you defeat him.

Kieran pretty much has a mental breakdown and is beyond repair at this moment.

SELFIE TIME!!!

As much as I'd love to relish in this kid's agony, we have to move the story along. Because immediately after, Ms. Briar asks for you, Kieran, Carmine, and Drayton for help.

So all of us (minus Drayton because he's a lazy-fuck) are going to Area Zero. Briar was finally able to get permission from Geeta and Rika (who are there now). It's been a while since I saw Rika.

GAH! What did I do?!

Oh. I forgot about The Way Home arc already. When it's been a full year since playing, you tend to forget why you're being yelled at.

Geeta gives you the Indigo Disk (hence the name of this DLC). Has no idea what it is or why it is. But thinks you might have some use for it.

The Indigo Disk actually sends you to a lower level of Area Zero since it seems Professor Crazy Bitch's lab is locked down due to inactivity.

In the depths of Area Zero, you'll come across these special tera pokemon. They are stella-tera. And in the depthiest of depths, we will come across Terapagos.

Kieran decides he's going to use this opportunity to surpass you.

LADY, CONTROL YOUR STUDENT!

What am I, a judge in a Donald Trump trial?

More swipes at Trump. I thought I told you that we won't stop! I thought I told you that we won't stop!

Terapagos eventually emerges. But then...

This little shit catches it with a Master Ball. I'm impressed.

Kieran battles you with Terapagos. It fails. Then, Briar tells him to terastylize Terapagos.

Think of this as a Tera-raid from Hell. It puts up three barriers. Constantly takes away your ability to terastylize. And every now and then, it changes what type it is. All the while, Briar is having her wet-dream of seeing Terapagos in full form and Kieran is...

Yeah, this whole thing is a cluster-fuck. Time for you to end this nightmare and catch this fucker.

But wait, didn't Kieran catch it with a master ba...?

We good now? Okay. Let's take this behemoth down.

After finishing off Terapagos, you can then catch it, and 100% rate for this one. It better be after all the shit you go through.

Lady, Ms. Frizzle has more control than you do.

Well, that's the end of the main story to Indigo Disc. The pokemon is caught, the day is saved, we think Kieran is going back to normal, and the end credits play with a remix to Ed Sheeran's Celestial.

Okay, I think this is a perfect place to end my shit-post.

To be continued.

[theageofsims]

what was your inspiration to create your main oc? (pass the question on)

Oh, so you want to know about William Jones, huh? I apologize for the length, but sometimes there's just no other way.

I consider William my main original character, but he's actually not 'that' original.

He's based off of Harrison Ford's character in "The Age of Adaline". In the movie he 'seems' to be a 'retired' astronomer.

So I kept him as a scientist, but you can't really do much with space in Sims without it turning into something Science Fiction (and about aliens), so I decided I wanted him to stargaze and know about stuff in the galaxy as a hobby, but to work with plants professionally (because I love gardening in the Sims since way back).

I can't think of anything else. I mean, it was a total given that I'd try to make a Harrison Ford character when Sims 4 came out. I had made several of my most favorites of his in Sims 3. I have made several of his in Sims 4, but William is my main one.

There was other angles, too. I'm someone who has written fan fiction since I was literally 9 years old. I've switched what I've written about as far as characters and themes go, but I've never stopped writing (or reading them from others). I've written a number of HF characters in fan fictions, but I can't draw so I never had pictures to go with it. That's where Sims came in in ways it never did for me before.

So it was kind of just enhancing what I'd normally write outside of the Sims -- just with pictures.

Another big thing for me was to put his character in a situation that none of his characters had ever been before. His fandom is very heavily white and it's no surprise considering who he is, where he comes from, his age, and etc -- but the reality is I'm half-black and half-white and I adore his characters/movies. My dad was my black parent and he loved Harrison, too.

I've been a fan of his since 2008 and no matter which fans I met and friends I made, there's been no diversity at all. When I read fics with Indiana Jones or Han Solo or Rick Deckard, there's never been anything with diversity -- and it bothered me. It bothered me from the start, but there was nothing I could do about it except write things my self.

So -- that's a big reason why William is who he is to my blog/story. Harrison has never had a non-white love interest in any of his movies and the man has been acting since the 60s -- long before he became a movie star in 1977 as Han Solo in Star Wars -- and that bothered me.

So while it was Harrison's character in "The Age of Adaline" that inspired me to make a story/gameplay out of it and name my blog after it, it was a whole lot of factors. It was my need and want to see a character of his (made up or loosely based off an actual character of his) be everything William is in my story.

Sometimes I try to think why it was William as I've got a Top Six characters of HF (William was added as number 6) -- but that's what it ended up being. Get to Work came out and I said okay I want to have a Scientist, a Doctor, and a Detective for a gameplay. I could have picked Harrison in "What Lies Beneath" who is a scientist or Indiana Jones -- hell I could have even picked his character in "Random Hearts" who is a detective or Rick Deckard in "Blade Runner. I could have picked Dr. Richard Walker from "Frantic" or his other Richard -- Dr. Richard Kimble in "The Fugitive" -- both medical doctors.

He's been around so long he's been like everything -- sometimes two or three times, hahaha!

Don't know what jumped out at me about William in a major way, but I just ran with it.

Anyway -- don't know who asked this question, but thanks for asking and sorry for being a major dork, but that's the only way I know how to be… (with or without Harrison Ford added to the equation :P).

[melodythebunny]

New neighbors Au - Wordgirl x Welcome home chapter 1

"Today was pretty okay."

"Speak for yourself, art class was a pain! Everyone else was making wonderful art pieces, meanwhile I couldn't even draw lines or scribble."

Becky and Chase were walking home from school with bob. Becky was a bit miffed about an upcoming art project. Chase and Bob looked at her with sympathy. Art had always been one of her weak spots.

"I don't know what I should do for the next art project. That's going to be 30 percent of my grade for that class." She continued, frowning. She usually asked her friend Violet for help since she was the best at it. But Violet had been out sick this week. She didn't want to bug her friend while she was feeling unwell.

"If it was an essay I'm sure you would have no problem writing it." Chase said. Bob chirped in agreement. The lexiconian sighed. Words were the easiest thing for her. It didn't matter the language, she could easily say the words definition and origins. She was also a very punctual writer. "Yeah. But I'm also a bit glad I have three weeks before it's due." She had asked the teacher for extra time to work on the project. The teacher knowing how she struggled in the class gave her the extension.

As they continued walking something caught Chase's eye. He paused. "Hey. Look." He gestured towards a rather old looking building. The sign upfront said 'antiques and more!' "we could probably look in here for some inspiration" he suggested. Becky and Bob stopped walking to see what he was talking about. It was across the street.

"Yeah we could try that." Becky said with a nod. They waited until the road was clear before crossing. Opening the door to the shop, they heard a small 'ding!' as they entered.

"Whoa…"

Inside was Impossibly small, with a cramped aisle with the shelves packed high with random trinkets, books and the like. The air smelled faintly like mint. The dim lighting from the dust covered windows added to the cluttered feel.. But despite that, it felt also cozy…nostalgic even.

Something caught the siblings' attention. They moved closer to see it.

It was a four story dollhouse. The outside walls were pastel pink, resting on a green fuzzy mat. A miniature blue and red car parked outside of it. Inside the house was a kitchen, living room, bath room, a bedroom with three beds and a hallway that led upstairs. The upstairs was a big black room, the story above that one seemed to be a white room. Then an attic where a lone piano sat. There were three figurines that sat in the kitchen. A yellow looking one, a red yarn looking one and a green duck.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT!"

Suddenly a hand came to close the dollhouse. Becky, Bob and Chase looked up in surprise. A middle aged woman looked at them sternly. Noticing them jump, her face softened.

"My apologies for frightening you three." the lady said. "But that house isn't for sale. It's rather precious to me."

Chase was the first one to recover. "It's okay, miss. We were just looking around."

She nodded. "Ah, I see then. Let me know if you guys find anything that catches your attention." Becky gave one last glance at the dollhouse before turning her attention to the nearby shelves. She found many old books. Blowing the dust off of them to get a better view of them. Bob and Chase also took to looking at the items on the shelves.

Looking through a box, Chase found an old VHS tape. The labeling was a bit worn but he could make out most of the texts and pictures. The tape was titled Welcome Home with a friendly yellow, blue haired puppet smiling warmly. He seemed to be in the middle of painting. Overall it seems to be some sort of old children's show.

'That's adorable,' Chase thought. 'Blu would like this.' he then saw a rather new looking teddy bear. He knew she wanted another one since her last one got shredded by squeaky. Checking the prices he realizes he only had enough for one thing. He reached for the teddy bear.

A few moments later, the three walked out with some books and the VHS tape.

@blueweirdness @dualnaturedscientist @liloskull343 @lartmacabre @ninjastormhawkkat