#I have ideas. they involve being smug and also knives.

[void-kissed]

I do find it very amusing that two of my more cold and stoic self-inserts - who are actually pretty similar in some ways, being nobles in a somewhat unfamiliar situation compared to the nobles around them for example - are for two of the F/Os who manage to make me most flustered simply by existing (or saying certain lines, more specifically)

[itwoodbeprefect]

Inge! sorry I'm a little late to the party, but do you still take prompts? if yes, I'd like to request a friendship piece for either Rodney&Teyla or Rodney&Ronon (w/ or w/out a dash of McShep is good for me) pretty please? thanks! <3

Not that late at all, and what a lovely warm prompt! Thank you. :D

I went with Rodney & Ronon, but also kind of Rodney & Teyla and maybe Ronon & Teyla, and also John is around, and it’s almost teamfic? Also, Jeannie.

---

The door to John’s quarters slides open exactly like his own would, which he expects, but he stops cold after two hasty steps into the room anyway. He turns back to the door to check, and in the process has to look past the Johnny Cash poster above the bed and the surfboard leaning against the wall and the giant brick of a Tolstoy book on the nightstand, so yeah, he decides in the end, without stepping out to doublecheck - these are John’s quarters. There’s not a single thing out of place, except, well, the obvious.

“McKay,” Ronon grumbles. It sounds like a greeting. Like Ronon, sitting fully clothed on the edge of John’s made bed, is saying hi.

“What are you doing here?” Rodney asks, by way of saying hi back.

“Meeting Sheppard.” Ronon grins, in a way that looks a little dangerous. That’s a good sign with Ronon, who has no problem looking a lot dangerous, if he wants. “Unless you want to spar with me.”

Rodney does not. Rodney thinks that’s a little too predictable for him to say out loud; quite honestly, he thinks John is crazy for endangering his life that way voluntarily every week.

Rodney looks back at the door again, which has slid closed, and in front of which the person he’s been looking for has not suddenly materialized in the last ten seconds. “Where is John?”

“Not here.”

Rodney’s nerves make him skip the snappy comeback. “Any idea where he might be?”

“Why?” Ronon asks.

Which is more than enough to make Rodney spill his guts. He was barely holding it in, anyway. “I think Jeannie’s mad at me, and I’m not sure why.” He frowns and starts to pace back and forth and rub his hands together. He’s a multitasker. “I don’t think I did or said anything rude lately, but her emails are shorter than usual, and she didn’t even sign the last one. It’s really not like me to overthink these kinds of things, because I don’t care what people think of me anyway-” That’s a lie, he’s come to realize in recent years, but it’s a comforting one to repeat out loud, sometimes. “But, you know, I think I was the bad guy for not contacting Jeannie all those years and we’ve only just started being brother and sister again, so I’ve been trying to put in the effort, and now I think she’s mad at me.” He stops marching and gives the too long, didn’t read version. “So I need someone to tell me what I did wrong, so I can fix it.”

Ronon levels a look at him. “And you need John for this.”

The look says more than the words, and it has a point, of course. John’s not known for his exceptional social grace and skill. Rodney wags his head a little, considering how to justify his choice. John is his best friend, but he’d feel a little pathetic saying that to Ronon, who he’s pretty sure is also John’s best friend. “He had some surprisingly clever insights about my relationship with Jeannie last time she was here,” is what Rodney lands on, reluctantly. He spots John’s golf stuff in the corner, and wistfully thinks back to being able to just ramble at John without Ronon sitting there, judging him.

Ronon leans back, planting his hands behind him on the mattress. “I could help,” he offers, out of the blue.

Some deep, deep blue. Blue enough to make Rodney stare, hands stilling mid-wring. “You?” Rodney’s not trying to be offensively puzzled, but he thinks he’s allowed a little surprise. If John is dubious in his social grace, Ronon is a tripping hazard. “You could help?”

Ronon stares back like a challenge. “Yeah.”

“Okay,” Rodney says. He waits and looks at Ronon expectantly, but nothing happens. Ronon just looks back at him mutely. “Please?”

“What would Teyla do?”

“Huh?” She’s not here, either - if Ronon’s help is just sending him to chase someone else around the city, that’s not very helpful at all.

“Ask yourself,” Ronon says. “What would Teyla do? And then do that thing.”

Rodney is right back to baffled. He’s not sure he ever left - he’s talking to Ronon Dex about feelings. “Is that how you handle a problem?”

“No.” Ronon leaves a pause there. Rodney finds himself unexpectedly distracted by the question if Ronon talks so little because he really just doesn’t have much to say, or because finding words takes effort. “I glare at it until it goes away.”

Rodney huffs a laugh out of pure surprise, because that almost sounds like a joke. It may not have been, but either way Ronon doesn’t glare at him, which Rodney takes as a sign that he hasn’t just become a problem.

“And if that doesn’t work-” Ronon continues, which Rodney feels is surprisingly talkative of him, until he lets that sentence hang unfinished.

But Rodney can do that, now. Finish Ronon’s sentence. “What would Teyla do?”

Ronon nods. He looks a little smug, like there’s a dead Wraith around here somewhere. “Yeah.”

“Oh,” Rodney says, both because he would have guessed that Ronon’s backup plan would involve a lot more knives (though it could, potentially, still involve knives sometimes - Teyla’s very good with those) and because that’s actually good advice. If there’s one person who would know how to get someone to tell them what’s wrong, it’s Teyla.

And if Teyla thought somebody she loved might be mad at her, but she wasn’t sure why, she would... ask. She wouldn’t go into a tailspin and try to guess at the answer while assuming it had to be her fault, she would ask why and listen and then talk it out.

“Oh my God,” Rodney says, feeling like a whole new world just opened up to him. “Words.”

Ronon pulls a face. It looks a little like a sympathy wince.

Rodney flings a hand out at him. “Thank you!”

“Thank Teyla,” Ronon says, which Rodney thinks is a little weirdly modest for the galaxy’s greatest Runner who just counseled him through a family emergency, but they can work on Ronon’s ability to accept gratitude later, over lunch or something.

For now, Rodney sweeps out of the room, because he needs his computer so he can type so he can get Jeannie to tell him what’s bothering her so he can be a good brother, and apologize only once he knows what he’s apologizing for. God, Teyla’s smart.

As luck would have it, John is just stepping out of the transporter when Rodney storms towards it. “Hey,” he says, slowing to a stop when Rodney doesn’t. “What are you doing here?”

“Asking you for help.” Rodney brushes right past him with a pat to his arm; no time.

“You’re going the wrong way,” John calls after him.

“I’m fine! Ronon helped me by making Teyla help me help myself with Jeannie.”

“What?”

The last thing Rodney sees before he steps into the transporter is John’s bewildered face. It’s clear John is left with some questions, but Rodney doesn’t need to hang around for that. Ronon can take over; that’s what Teyla would do.

Or, Rodney thinks, what a friend would do.

(Turns out, in the end, that Jeannie was never even mad at him to begin with - her next email is much longer, and details all the mundane little circumstances that piled up and left her very stressed last month but that she didn’t think Rodney had wanted to hear about (it involves a flu and lice and a car that wouldn’t start and visiting in-laws and school play preparations and a lost teddy bear and half a dozen other little things Rodney is glad he doesn’t have to deal with in Pegasus), and then she calls him very attentive for picking up on her mood and sweet for thinking to ask if everything is okay.

The next day Rodney bribes one of the botanists to cut a bouquet for him and gives it to Teyla, and he hoards one of the last pieces of pie at dinner until Ronon shows up. “What’s happening?” John asks, suspicious. Maybe Ronon’s explanation wasn’t all that comprehensive after all.

“Emotional intelligence,” Ronon says around a full mouth, spewing little pieces of pie across the table, and Rodney nods solemnly.

That’s not what Teyla would do, because she’s smiling at them both, but close enough.)

[laurore-stormwitch]

of almost failed heists and romantic advice

For the @grishaversebigbang mini bang! First time writing the crows, it’s been a challenge. I had the incredible and emotional honor to see some beautiful art made for this fic by @streckenweise-okay [here] , @j-wirth [here], @davonysus [here]. You are all talented and amazing <3  Summary: an easy undercover job becomes not only a chance to revisit some old friendships with Nina back in town, but also the perfect occasion for a romantic intervention and some dating advice for our favorite Bastard of the Barrel.

ao3 link

Kaz Brekker, the Bastard of the Barrel, a forgotten Rietveld. His figure hid itself in the many names he had been called, in the many tales of sorrow he had inflicted. He did not need a reason, nor to rob or brake, nor to wreak havoc on the filthy streets of Ketterdam. Swift as the sky-splitting dive of a crow on his prey. You would feel him coming, in the tense silence shattered by the rhythmic beating of a raptor-headed cane on bricks. Kaz Brekker, who did not need a reason, or concealed the ones who mattered. The same Kaz Brekker, however, who did not have a valid reason for choosing to bring the three biggest headaches of his life along with him on this wretched job. A sharpshooter with an absurd taste in fashion, a Grisha witch as annoying as his broken leg and a wayward merchant’s son he had spent way too much time babysitting. 

A strike of genius on his part. On top of that, he had chosen an undercover job, like they had the slightest ability not be noticed. Except for Nina; that girl blended everywhere like whisky. She was now strolling back to them with an excited gleam in her eyes, sipping on a glass of wine. She giggled happily. “Relax, Kaz. It’s a party.” 

He cut her a glare from the corner in which he was standing, stiff and broody. 

“Where the hell are the two lovebirds?” 

“At the buffet. Do you know they have a chocolate fountain?”

“If it doesn’t drop gold”, Nina arched a brow at him, “I am fairly sure I don’t care for it.”

They were interrupted by the brilliant flash of color of Jesper’s suit and his brazen laugh. He had an arm thrown around Wylan’s shoulder; the merchling’s  cheeks were flushed and his hair ruffled. He seemed slightly uncomfortable or about to throw up. For all the kruges, how much had Jesper let him drink? At least they did not have a particularly difficult role to play. Nina planted a kiss on Wylan’s cheek.

“This is so fun!”, she exclaimed, delighted by the situation. Kaz glared at her again.

“A job it’s not supposed to be fun.”

“Take your brooding mood out the window, Brekker”, Nina waved a dismissive hand at him. “What would a job be without fun?”

“Terribly dull”, Jesper winked.

“Annoyingly painful”, offered Wylan with a hiccup. They turned to Kaz. 

“Adequately profitable.”

His friends cast their eyes heavenward. Jesper snatched other glasses , pretending not to see Kaz’s threatening look. The party was grand, held in the home of a Council’s member from whom they were supposed to steal some documents held in a safe in his study. The job was easy to say the least, so when they had learned that Nina was in town, she had tagged along. Kaz wanted to wack himself on the head with his cane for this wretched idea; apparently, they had taken this as an excuse to party and reminisce old times more than an occasion to actually help Kaz make some money. Nina surveyed the room. 

“I wish Inej was here”, she whined. Kaz had never been one to pray, so it was not surprised when the Saints ignored his pledge to make Nina drop the argument. Instad, she turned to him with a smug smirk. 

“How is it going between the two of you?”

Kaz tapped his cane on the floor, avoiding the heartrender’s eyes. Maybe she would shut up if he ignored her. Was he not radiating a general air of murderousness and danger, enough to convince his nosy friend to leave him be? Well, not enough. It just made her do something even worse and refer to the other two headaches.

“Kaz is a hopeless cause.”

“He’s not asked her out yet? Not even a romantic snack in between threatening people and skewering them with knives?”

Jesper shrugged his shoulder, nudging Wylan closer. “We offered to do it for him”, he noted.

“You did”, Wylan peered at thim. “I want to keep my head on my neck.”

“Why hasn’t he?”, asked Nina, considering Kaz, still ignoring them.

“I don’t think he’s familiar with the concept of asking someone out. Or even asking someone for anything, mainly bossing people around.”

Kaz adjusted his tie. “I’m standing right beside you.”

“It’s not hard, Kaz. Just buy some flowers and smile.”

Jesper laughed at Nina’s idiotic advice. Were they actually trying to get assassinated right now? Another thought paved the way in his mind. Was it an idiotic advice, though? He could admit that anything not involving schemes or robbery was not an area of expertise for him. And he had been meaning to do something...nice?

“You’re asking Dirtyhands to smile?”, asked Jesper. Nina huffed.

“Can it be that hard?”

“You’ll see. Kaz, smile at me.” 

Kaz had two roads in front of him: for some reason, he chose the insane one and indulged Jesper, curling his lips upward. An uncomfortable silence dawned over them. 

“All the Saints and their suffering”, Nina exclaimed.

“Is he about to murder someone?”, Wylan asked. Nina burst out laughing.

“That is your i-am-asking-you-out smile?”

“It’s terrifying”, considered the merchling.

“Positively daunting”, his boyfriend confirmed.

“For the love of Inej’s Saints drop the smile. Stick with the flowers.” She eyed him from upside down, critical. “And fix that dreadful hair.”

Now the choice laid between leaving them all here or trying to find a way to finish this wretched job. Since the second option included a mouthful reward, he went with it. He eyed the owner descending the stairs with his guards. That was their cue. 

“You all know what to do.”

To their credit, they all snapped to attention when he called them. Nina strode behind the owner, fluffing her hair, while the three of them disappeared silently toward the upper floor. Silently. As silently as they could, Wylan being half drunk and Jesper being...well, Jesper. What one does for some kruge, thought sourly Kaz. He did glance at his reflection in the mirror, trying a half smile as they ascended the stairs. But no one needed to know that. 

***

The safe had scarcely even been fun to crack. Kaz slipped the document in his jacket, scanning the study. Who knows what one could find that people left unguarded. Jesper and Wylan were outside, keeping control on the stairs. The situation seemed under control, so he did have some spare time to search for something precious. He approached a drawer, flicked a pin in the keylock and - 

BOOM

A loud explosion resonated on the floor, rattling the walls. Definitely not a good sign. And definitely a sign that his henchmen raised some hell. Kaz sprinted out, only to find an absolute mayhem had been unleashed, and at the centre of this chaos, sure enough, stood his two royally idiotic friends, covered in dirt and pieces of furniture, gazing at each other with utter shock on their faces like they hadn’t just made a smoke bomb explode. The one that was supposed to be an emergency to cover their escape and was now invading the house. 

“What the hell did you do?!”

Screams rose below them; Jesper scratched some dust from his jacket and rolled his revolvers out, grinning in Wylan’s direction, apparently unfazed by how much they had just screwed up. 

“Wylan got carried away”, he shrugged his shoulders. Wylan flushed violently, jaw dropped in his boyfriend’s direction.

“You pushed me against a wall! I told you I had the smoke bomb in my pocket!”

“Were they making out again on the job?”, Nina rushed in their direction, her gorgeous face lit up with amusement as she struck down one of the guards running up the stairs with a flick of her wrist, a dart bone flying out of her cuff. 

“It’s Jesper’s fault! He’s always trying to...to…”, Jesper arched a brow at Wylan. 

“Yes?”

“Entice me!”

Kaz blew out an exasperated grunt, pushing them toward the background door. “Move!”, he seethed, running to work the lock. Dirtyhands getting killed on a saints forsaken robbery, perfect irony. With a quick look, he realized the damn lock had been reinforced with Fabrikator’s craft. He signaled Jesper, who practically squealed with amusement. 

“Do I get to use my powers?” The hard glare he earned from Kaz seemed to be enough for him to get on with his work. Nina turned, shooting other dart bones toward the stairs. Quick steps and screams were echoing through the buildings, and smoke was clearing. “You might wanna hurry up, Jes!”, she shouted over her shoulder. 

“We might have a problem”, the sharpshooter mumbled, as the lock literally melted on itself, effectively sealing the door closed. “I’m still getting the hold on - “

He was interrupted by another deafening explosion, as Wylan threw another device which detonated on the wooden stairs shredding them into pieces. 

“Do you all have to keep destroying our ways out?!”

“I’m sorry!”, screamed Wylan over the echoing thrum of the bomb, his gaze shifting to a window that opened up to the roof. 

“Do not even think about it”, Kaz pointed his cane at him. 

“Either we take a page from Inej’s book or we get arrested, what do you choose?”, Nina asked grudgingly, starting to climb on a cupboard. Saints, he was going to kill them all. Jesper and Wylan followed suit, making their way out on the roof and helping Kaz up. He shot a murderous look at Nina, who was eyeing him as he not at all gracefully moved up and shut the window closed behind him, swearing to every known Saints in Kerch.

“Since you are so bad at this, you should try to compliment Inej about it and maybe she’ll teach you something.” 

“Start fleeing before I catch you, Zenik.”

Shots began firing from below them, grazing Kaz’s arm. Nina erupted in a grin. 

“Time to run, Brekker.”

And so they did. Extremely far from how Inej would have done it. Loudly, stumbling throughout Ketterdam’s rooftops, helping each other - as much as he hated to admit it, mostly Kaz - on the slippery tiles and the narrow eaves. Ketterdam buildings left little space to breathe, being conveniently close that they could jump from one to the other. Kaz lost track of time, though his bad leg felt like they’ve been running for hours. Jesper stopped abruptly as they neared the docks, crunching on his knees and howling a breathless laugh. 

“That was fun.”

Nina giggled, slouching on the rooftop they had stopped on. “Ease up boys, we lost them ages ago”, she exhaled, closing her eyes toward the moonlight and leaning back. Kaz tentatively seated himself behind her, stretching his leg. 

“If this easy job ends up with me not being able to walk, vengeance will be coming.” 

Wylan and Jesper slumped down on his side, ignoring his dreadful look. Wylan peered at Kaz with a sly smile. 

“Jesper has stolen something fit to celebrate a successful heist.” 

The sharpshooter grinned, pulling out a bottle of cherry wine from nowhere and uncorking it with a whistle of joy. He passed it around as their cheerful chatter filled the night’s quiet. They were crazy. Crazy, reckless, and still idiots. Yet, Kaz couldn’t help but feel a little proud of his ragtag band of misfits. So he did not protest when Jesper handed him the wine, and he even threw a crooked half smile at him. The night began to wear off with every sip.

“So”, started Jesper at some point, snatching the bottle from him, “about our advice?”

It had to be the wine for Kaz to answer this. “I guess I can try it.”

Wylan huffed and gave him a knowing look.  “Just be yourself, Kaz. Inej likes you like that.”

“Ever the romantic”, Jesper winked at him, making him flush. Again. 

“Aside from that”, Nina propped herself up, turning to him, her lips quirked and her face lit up with happiness, cheeks red from the wine. “I still suggest the flowers. You know her favourites. And you might want to get ahead with those, Brekker'', she added, pointing her finger toward the horizon; over Ketterdam’s rooftops, the moonlight shone on the silent streets, reflecting on the waves that hit the docks. There, against the sky lit up by stars, stood the profile of a sharp ship, a flag Kaz knew by heart flying over the mast, its edges turning his stomach upside down as it entered the harbour. 

“Our Wraith is coming home.”

[chao-writes-stuff]

DELTARUNE SPOILERS

Heyyy! I wrote a thing involving Jevil and the Chapter 2 Superboss! I'm going to put it under the cut, but at the end, there will also be an Ao3 link if you wanna support me there!

Thank you! Remember to Reblog if you wanna

The Lightner Trio walked down the stairs in the Queen's massive manor, their hurried footsteps echoing like a rough pitter-patter in the technological nightmare. The massive lair confused and bamboozled them, but they definitely wanted to figure out the mystery behind what the Fountains were about, what Queen's true intentions were… and what was in the basement?

"Uhh… Kris?" Ralsei asked, his soft voice echoing out. "Why are we even here? Aren't Queen, Noelle, and Berdly upstairs? And not here…?"

Susie quickly interrupted him, punching his arm lightly to get his attention. "Of COURSE they aren't here. But whatever is here is probably important. Right, Kris?"

"I guess!" The currently blue human replied. "I've been asked by some… guy, about doing these weird favors for him. He really wants me to be alone."

"We sure he ain't a p-" Before Susie could finish her thought, Ralsei muffled her mouth with his scarf. "Who is he? And why does he want you to be alone?"

"His name is Spamton, I think. I don't know much about him, but he gave me this Loaded Disk earlier, and--"

Suddenly, a strange, chaotic voice rang out. Everyone recognized it. The tail attached to Ralsei's cloak popped off, diamonds and hearts flying out with it. The tail spun and took form, and the chaotic Jester they quite literally put to rest yesterday was reawakened.

"Spamton? SPAMTON? The same Spamton who wished for me to go, to go, and be free, free?" Jevil laughed chaotically, with Ralsei caught quite off guard. "You know him?"

"That dorito chip was part of the reason why I was set free, he was! He used to rule this world, before the Queen I've been hearing oh so much about took over. Oh, I MUST know more of how you met that ridiculous lunatic! And that's coming from ME, ME! Spamton, oh Spamton, I'd like to have a word with him~!" Jevil looked quite pissed off, his normally jovial expression looking slightly stern.

"I didn't wanna go down there anyway. Just come back, okay? You're kind of carrying us with your defense boost." Kris, with a neutral expression, gave the clown the disk they were gifted by the malignant salesman, and watched as Jevil immediately sprinted off into the basement. They could hear an echoed "Buh bye~! I'll be back in a few hundred words!" As the jester descended into the decrepit basement below...

Jevil entered the musty, rotting cellar. Despite him rarely stepping on the ground, each step he did take left a haunting impact on his feet. It was silent, save for the occasional rustling of his clothes. He didn't have long to do this. His physical form only had a few hours to be out and about before he solidified, just like the young boy and the puzzle freak. Thankfully, that's all he needed. He was getting excited, almost giddy, to interact once more with his old acquaintance. Oh, what a wonderful conversation they'd have!

He didn't walk for too much longer before he found the train station that was buried deep below. Or was it a roller coaster? Whoever had this built clearly had some elaborate roundabout in mind… too bad they were still imprisoned, haha! Jevil walked and floated across the tracks, reaching a room with a decaying robot inside.

He knew this was a bad idea. But when did he ever have good ideas?

Without hesitating, the joker put the disk into the robot. At first, nothing happened, and he was getting impatient VERY quick. He gave the robot a swift kick in the lower area, before stepping back out of the room.

Step…

Step…

SLAM! The clown was admittedly caught off guard with how fast the silhouette from above came and pushed him onto his knees. With a small gasp for air, Jevil looked up slowly at the encroaching menace. The jagged movements, the glitchy, unsolidified form… this was him alright.

"KRIS… MY LOYAL [Sponge!] THANK… YOU. THE [Clown Around Town!] I REMEMBER YOUR [Disgusting] FACE. EVERYONE WAS SO [Thrilled] TO SEE YOUR [Calcified] FACE." The massive robotic behemoth loomed over Jevil, rage in his glasses. Spamton NEO.

The clown got up, a smug, shitfaced expression on his mug. He knew damn well that the dorito in front of him was pissed off, so he leaned back in the air to retort. "At least I drink plenty of milk, uee hee hee! As for you, you haven't changed one bit since we last spoke~! Or would it be a byte, a byte? Regardless, I do hope you've given up on the illusion of freedom, freedom~! The only one who can be free is MEEE!"

The robotic menace swung around to the other side of Jevil, making it very clear who was in charge of the conversation. A small concentrated blast of Pipis was fired at the jester, pushing him back with a surprising amount of force. "YOU ACT SMUG, BUT YOU [Crashed our stocks!] AND THEN YOU [Spoiled relations with our Esteemed Partners!] I DON'T KNOW HOW YOU… GOT IN HERE, YOU… [Tuna Fish,] BUT I'M NOT FALLING FOR YOUR [Roundabout!] AGAIN!"

Jevil laughed maniacally at this thought. This guy was mad! Over something that happened how long ago? Why even bother holding a grudge still? Petty, petty! He knew why, and it's why he came back too. "You influenced him. That pretty little kitty. You gave him enough funds to release me into that carousel of bliss and innocence! But I wasn't done, not one bit! And all those years, spent being free… they made me realize something, my dearest Spamton."

The oddly calm tone coming from the jester put Spamton NEO at an incredible amount of unease. "WHAT? WHAT COULD YOUR [Calcified Lump] THINK OF THAT WOULD MEAN ANY GODDAMN THING TO ME?"

"I CAN DO ANYTHING!"

The joker used his latent power to pelt the giant mecha with small white hearts. Spamton was caught off-guard, stumbling back a fair amount. Of course, you have to fight fire with fire, so the robot used his abilities to send out a Big Shot of blue Spamton Head Pipis.

"YOU [Saturated Marketshare!] YOU CAN'T SIMPLY ATTACK ME AND EXPECT IT TO WORK [As seen on TV!] I'M A [BIG SHOT!] [BIG SHOT!!!]"

Jevil hopped up onto the ceiling, clearing the first few Pipis on the lower row heading his way. Unfortunately, the higher row caught him clean in the face as he bounced between the two, making a small Jack-in-the-box melody as he pinged around.

"SPAMTON, MY BELOATHED! I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND, UNDERSTAND, WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU'RE TRAPPED IN A CAGE WITH A SHARK, A SHARK! YOU GET BITTEN AND CHEWED UP!"

The fool retaliated by running circles around Spamton, turning into a carousel of horse bullets! The robot, in a surprising feat of puppeteering, dodged the attack almost perfectly… until a stray horsie cut a string, sending the mech's right arm into the horse race. One thing about arms with cannons on them? They fire.

As soon as it happened, Jevil was face to face with a swarm of Pipis all around him. He was stuck. All of them exploded brilliantly, sending the clown flying clean across the rotting tracks and into the wall. Tauntingly, mockingly even, Spamton NEO retorted.

"I'M THE SHARK NOW, JEVIL! I'VE CHEWED UP SO MANY [Failed Buisness Partners] THAT I COULD MAKE A WHOLE [Presentation] OUT OF THEM! STAY OUT OF MY GODDAMN WAY, OR [Sparkle like new!] YOU BRAT."

The buisnessman charged at Jevil, his hands becoming phones. "IT'S FOR YOU." Suddenly, before either of them could react, loud blasts of garbage noise manifest expelled from the phones, attacking the court jester with white blasts of energy. There was nothing he could do to stop this robot's onslaught, it looked like.

"OH SPAMTON, IS THAT WHAT YOU THINK? THAT YOU'RE THE ONE WHO'S SO POWERFUL RIGHT NOW, NOW? I'D SUGGEST YOU LOOK UP, UP! YOU'RE NOTHING WITHOUT THOSE STRINGS IMPRISONING YOU, UEE HEE HEE! YOU'RE NOT A BIG SHOT, YOU'RE JUST A LAZY FRAUD WHO CAN'T STOP HANGING ON TO HIM! I GUESS SLEEPING FOR 100 YEARS DOESN'T MAKE LITTLE OLD ME MISS MUCH, RIGHT?"

Without warning, Jevil was myseriously gone from his corner. The spamware looked frantically for his target, before being struck in the arm, the leg, and the chest by scythes. Devilsknives. The last knive cut a few strings clean off the puppet, who briefly hit the ground before rising back up.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! [Hyperlink Blocked.] I'M STILL HIS LOYAL ASSOCIATE! HE MAY NOT HAVE TALKED TO ME IN [Employee of The Month for 144 months!] BUT HE'S STILL THERE…"

Jevil interrupted him cleanly and concisely. "FACE IT. YOU'RE NO BIG SHOT ANYMORE, SPAMTON G. SPAMTON. ALL YOU ARE IS A FAILED INVESTMENT, UEE HEE HEE!"

With those words, a purple blast came from behind the clown, striking the robot right in the noggin. He flew back a bit, giving the joker enough time to turn around to meet his esteemed guests.

"Ah, my imprisoners~! Didn't you guys have a Queen to rock-em sock-em?"

Susie immediately cut him off, as she punched him in the arm (causing his head to spring up, naturally.) "Well, Kris over here couldn't shake the feeling things were off. So they forced us down here, and now they're right. Somehow?"

"I know I'm right.. Jevil, who the hell is Spamton?" Kris replied, their worry about the situation starting to rise.

"It's of no concern to you~! His screws were almost as loose as mine, and I don't think it's my job to tighten them~! Uee hee hee! Thank you for the help, but I can do anything~! Even tell you guys that 3 coasters are about to come down and force you guys along for the ride~!"

Ralsei immediately stuttered something out. "Three… what?"

And just like that, with a loud rumbling, the heroes were swept up into 3 old, rusty carts, barrelling down the track. Jevil laughed to himself, proud of what he got to do. "Ah well, it's a shame I can't finish him personally…"

"But oh well! Are you proud, proud? They took care of him…"

"Doctor."

Ao3 Link!

[pretty-setter-bois]

elephant in the room

request; none! this idea popped into my head n i thought it was funny. also, this takes place during episode 4 ღ

summary; sexual tension between you and our resident ‘innocent boy’. but daisuke’s there too.

word count; 2611™

warnings; suggestive themes (no nsfw!), daisuke bby cuts his finger while cutting potatoes, maybe haru not being as innocent as we deem him to be ☛☚

prequel

     DAISUKE’S PHONE RINGS as he walks along the roads on the private property he owned, eyebrows knitting and lips pursing as he looked at the contact calling him, answering nonetheless. “what?”

“you got some time right now?” haru asks. 

wasn’t it his day off?

“yeah.” he leans forward in anticipation. “hurry up and get to the point.”

“sorry, to do this while you’re off duty, but could you help me with something? well, it’s not like absolutely need your help, but...” haru rambles.

“i don’t mind coming over, however...” daisuke looks at the road ahead of him, knowing the journey was long. “why didn’t you ask (L/N)-san? she lives much closer than i do, and-” a small, repetitive beep continued for a few seconds, cutting him off.

haru had hung up.

     DAISUKE HAD SPOTTED haru on the bench, beginning to fall asleep. “hey. what do you need?”

“hey. sorry about this.” he jolts awake.

“hurry up and get to the point.” he replies, arrogant. “is something wrong with that child?”

the kid runs towards them, pointing towards daisuke. “is this the man?”

“yeah.” haru confirms with a nod.

“mister! please, can you find shiro for me?” he begs.

“what’s going on?” he turns to haru.

“shiro has gone missing!’ the boy exclaims.

“well, basically, a puppy named shiro has gone missing.” haru explains. “can you use your AI butler to find him?”

that was how daisuke got roped into this mess, following a wild goose chase in the shape of a white dog, without HEUSC.

he fools the kid into running off to find his dog, the smug smile playing on his face disappearing as haru drags him after the kid.

they meet an old woman on her yard, finding out that the dog the boy thought was shiro, was actually a cat.

they leave the yard defeated, taking tsuyoshi (the boy) to the police station to find out where he lived, and take him home.

     THE DETECTIVE DUO were in the grocery store, daisuke pushing the cart as haru gathered the ingredients they needed for dinner. daisuke dangerously eyes the natto haru placed in the shopping cart, not wanting it near him at any cost.

you, on the other hand, completely oblivious to them, were happily shopping among the tiny store. you placed all your items in your basket, unknowingly standing behind them in line.

you had to admit, the crisp-ironed white dress shirt and dark, navy blue vest looked completely familiar. “kambe-san?”

“(L/N)-san,” he turns around casually, revealing haru behind him.

“what are you doing here?” your voice quiets down a little, shocked at the sight of the man behind him as you addressed daisuke.

“shopping. i wish you a pleasant experience while shopping in this... grocery store.” his nose crinkles while he tries to remember the name of the building he was in.

“yeah, you too...” your voice wavers, and you want nothing more but to return to your timid ways.

“you should have dinner with us. it would be nice to partake in an activity together outside of the office. this is what you would call a hangout, am i correct?”

“yeah.” you giggle at his formality and absence of knowledge for casual words, not yet noticing haru’s strong stare towards you.

     “WHEN I SAID ‘yeah’, i was agreeing to your question about hangouts.” you jog on the side walk, trying to keep up with the tall men in front of you (though you would soon find out that daisuke was a lot closer to your height than you’d originally thought).

“i apologize, would you like to go home?” he asks as formally as he does bluntly.

“she’s already here, so she might as well eat with us, right?” haru says, and it’s the first sentence he’s spoken that was addressed to you.

his voice is so much softer, so much higher compared to the octaves it dropped to last time-

you squeeze your eyes shut, taking a deep breath and opening them as you try your hardest to focus on whatever the pavement was made out of and nothing but.

he was thanking whatever higher power above him that he was walking in front, as every single on of the features on his face was a telltale sign that he was on the verge of breakdown. 

daisuke stops in front of the building, admiring it (or so you thought). you stop behind him, as the pathway to the stairwell was blocked, and you were more interested in what he had to say than being in haru’s line of sight.

“what are you doing?” haru turns towards him.

“this is where you live?” he asks.

“got a problem with that?” haru exclaims.

“no.” daisuke blinks, before the three of you set foot inside haru’s humble abode.

“it’s a bit cluttered, but don’t worry about it.” he motions.

“so you really do live here?” daisuke asks again, and you think about getting involved before haru kicks him out and it becomes just the two of you.

“stop pestering!” he becomes agitated, but leads you both to the kitchen. “i have to cook some rice first... alright, can you chop up the carrots and potatoes over there?”

haru hands his fellow detective a potato, as daisuke stares at it intently. you decide to intervene, feeling bad that you’d ended up in his house without him being able to make a decision. “i’ll help!”

haru nods, taking things out of his shopping bag as you focus on his eyes. they had returned to their usual, golden yellow, and his pupils were normal again. 

they had darkened to a gorgeous light brown hue a few nights prior, his pupils largely dilating to a radius you’d never seen on eyes before-

you move to one of his drawers, the one he kept knives (and corkscrews, which you’d learned earlier) in to help daisuke with cutting vegetables.

daisuke noticed that you’d known exactly where it was without guidance, but brushed it off and focused on the task at hand.

once you’d found one, you stand next to him and begin to cut potatoes effortlessly, humming a small tune you’d heard somewhere on the bus.

daisuke looks over, trying to copy your actions, failing with difficulty. how did you make it look so easy? 

“need help?” you ask with a smile, to which he nods, primarily focusing on the potatoes.

“like this...” you unknowingly stick your tongue out in concentration, sturdying his left hand around the vegetable and guiding his right hand with your own, all while standing beside him.

haru couldn’t keep his eyes off of the both of you, mentally cursing daisuke for using the opportunity to get closer to you. why was he jealous?

“ah!” he yells, being too distracted to notice the hot steam that tickled — and almost burned — his hand.

“are you alright?” you ask, peaking your head through the door.

you’d gotten comfortable with the situation, knowing that you’d be here for a while. might as well suck it up and act like an adult, right?

“yeah...” he breathes, ears twitching at your voice.

it was just as harmonious as it was when he’d heard it then, had you always sounded like an angel? you didn’t even have to speak words, incoherent noises being more than enough proof-

he tries to shake the thoughts out of his head, counting the grains of rice to distract him from being distracted. he was doomed.

you, completely unaware of his thoughts, decided that daisuke had had enough practice cutting and could do it on his own. not even a minute later, he speaks up.

“the first aid box.”

you look up, confused.

“i injured myself. bring me the first aid box.” he repeats.

“huh? like i’d have something like that. just lick it, it’ll heal.” haru shrugs.

you inspect daisuke’s finger, noticing that the cut was larger than an average cut you’d get from cutting vegetables.

you nimbly make your way to the shelf, opening it and reaching for the band-aids. damn it. even on your tippy-toes you weren’t tall enough to reach it.

you feel a presence behind you, one you recognize. you recognize it because it’s the only one capable of making your heart race, the speed of your mind competing against your heart with thoughts-

“(L/N)-san?” daisuke asked, eager for your return as he would not be able to cut the rest of the potato.

“yes?” you squeaked, glad he couldn’t see you trapped in between the sink and haru.

“where are you?” he continues with his question.

“i’m getting band-aids, give me a second.” you manage to speak.

so you knew where the band-aids were, too. he thinks. 

at the mention of band-aids, haru gets them from above you and places them in front of you. you let out a small ‘thank you’, and get back to daisuke.

realizing that you had to get back to the kitchen to return them, and you couldn’t bare another awkward interaction, you place them on the table and continue with your work.

     “THIS IS ALL you have?” daisuke asks, stepping out of the shower in haru’s clothes.

you couldn’t help but marvel at his appearance, how does his hair feel like? is it as fluffy as it seems? he looked absolutely adorable.

“you know, you’ve been complaining this whole time.” haru points out, and daisuke crosses his arms on his chest behind him.

you were also glad that daisuke took short showers, as being alone with haru made the elephant in the room grow bigger.

said man put your food on to plates, and the three of you carried your plates to a table, you being on either side of them.

“thank you for the food.” you nod, before beginning to eat.

you had to admit, this was much better than the packet-ramen you had originally planned to eat.

he looked at you while you were distracted, devouring something from hunger as he began to-

-eat his own food, shaking his head again. the three of you had finished your food, and you washed the plates and spoons as a token of gratitude for the meal.

you’d arrived at the table after finishing, only to be greeted by an awkward question from daisuke. “have you been here before?”

“what do you mean?” not quite comprehending it.

“haru’s apartment.” he tilts his head towards you. “have you been here before?”

your eyes widen, a shaking fist making it’s way towards your chest as you blushed red. “wh-why would you say that?”

“you know where everything is. the knives, the ban-aids, the sponge.” he bluntly deducts.

you looked at haru, who gulped and tried to avoid your stare. so this is how the night was going to go down?

“n-no, not at all!” you nervously chuckle. “all houses look the same in this area, so it was easy.”

“do all people put their belongings in the same places too?” daisuke asks. what he meant as a simple question became more evidence against your lie.

“um...” you shy away from the question.

“i got something you might like.” haru says, and like that, the conversation is dodged. for now.

dry-cured ham was thrown into the mix (and spit out by daisuke, to which you tried and failed to stifle a laugh).

haru gets up and goes to the kitchen, throwing in a bunch of ingredients to make something he referred to as a ‘kato family special’.

“a can of tuna, bean sprouts... pour some soy sauce with tons of wasabi in it... and lastly, some bonito flakes.” he explains as he cooks.

he serves it to daisuke, and you watch intently as the millionaire takes a bite. was he going to enjoy food that us commoners eat?

“are you going to have some, (L/N)-san?” he asks.

“ah, no thank you. i’ve had some befo-” you cut yourself off, realizing what you had just said.

“you’ve been here before.” he bluntly shrugs. “why hide it?”

you don’t respond, instead excusing yourself for water (and a change of dreaded atmosphere). after you return, you announce, “i think i should take my leave now... it’s getting late, and if i wait any later, i wont be able to leave.”

“your phone.” daisuke simply points out.

damn it. it had died earlier, and thankfully, you had a charger (so you wouldn’t have to ask haru for one). you’d come here walking, and since it was late, you didn’t want to leave without your phone at least at a decently charged number.

“i guess a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt...” you awkwardly chuckle.

     “INSPECTOR ASANO, YOU are ordered on indefinite leave effective today.” the tv announces, the movie you’d been roped into watching coming close to an end.

haru and daisuke sat behind you, the only difference between you three is that you were the only one sober. you didn’t want another repeat of last time.

haru began rambling about justice, about how some people lived a life with everything given to them. daisuke, on the other hand, was on the verge of falling asleep.

his subconscious self made his way to wherever he ended up, saying that he wanted to sleep. you yourself had gotten up, knowing that you had to get going yourself.

as you were getting up, you felt something tug at your wrist. a drunk haru. “don’t leave. it’s late.”

“well, i kind of have too...” you nervously giggle while rubbing the back of your neck.

“why?”

“well, i can’t sleep here. there’s no where i can sleep.” you shrug; a lie.

“then sleep on the bed.”

“i’m pretty sure daisuke’s sleeping on the couch, and i’d hate to kick you off of your own bed-”

“i’ll sleep on the bed too.”

your face gets red, your arm gets limp in his and your brain can’t comprehend anything. “wh-what?”

“i said i’ll sleep on the bed too, why should it matter.” his words are slowly spoken. “i mean, we’ve done it before, right?”

haru was always bolder when drunk (proven by last time), and it only left you blushing and limp.

“b-but... daisuke’s outside, how-what is-”

he cuts her off, pulling her towards him as she falls forwards. their lips, the only thing on their minds, being a mere inch away, connect themselves as if having minds of their own.

what was meant to be an innocent kiss soon turned into a heated one, and then a make-out session, and then you staying over. you’d dreaded the repeat of last time to happen, but now that it had, you couldn’t be any more grateful.

extra;

     YOU’D WOKEN UP early, lazily putting on whatever you’d discarded the night before. you dashed to the bathroom to at least try and wash up, before daisuke caught you and questioned you again.

you open the door quietly, almost letting out a shout of surprise. in the bathtub, daisuke was sleeping soundly yet in an uncomfortable position. you quickly scramble for your phone, thinking that he couldn’t get any more adorable than he was now.

you snap a quick photo, deciding that it was all the waking up that you needed, and made your way to haru’s room. you woke him up softly, watching as his eyelashes slowly blinked awake.

you give him a quick kiss on the cheek, before he mutters something incomprehensible and goes back to sleep. maybe one day, the elephant in the room would be addressed.

NOTES ☀♕❣⁂ღ

so um, this was a ride. i’m glad i finally have a haru imagine! our bby deserves some love! also, daisuke with his hair down, a whole BABY.

[atosofficial]

What are everyone's hobbies?

HMMMMMM…. Type and I had to talk this one out because I feel like it’s something we should know off the top of our heads, but surprisingly, it took some thinking. Here’s the original outline Type had 😂

After chatting about it, we got some pretty solid ideas though, so here’s what the boys like to do in their spare time:

Cross – As mentioned in an earlier ask, Cross enjoys playing his guitar. It’s a nice way to unwind after a long day, and on the rare occasion, he’ll even softly sing to Killer while playing. Sometimes, his boyfriends will hear him playing/singing in his bedroom too, and they think it’s really cute (and also hot because hello, that boy has got a hella deep voice). Type has also mentioned that Cross bakes his pies, and they’re pretty decent uwu Other things he enjoys are watching romance movies with Killer (as briefly hinted at in ATOS and something he’ll do with Dream and Night at some point later) and working out. He’s a strong boi 😩💦

Nightmare – A book worm. He consumes all types of books when he can, and his reading time usually falls around right before bed or early in the morning with his cup of coffee. He enjoys cooking as well because he likes pampering/taking care of Dream, and this will eventually extend to Killer and Cross too. Occasionally, he’ll cook for his gang after a tough mission as a way of thanking them, and it’s something Dust and Horror also look forward to heheh 😌✨ I think he would have some musical talent as well. He seems the type to have a grand piano in his castle, and the possibility of him teaching his kids how to play is something that makes my heart squeeze ;w;

Dream – hot yoga This is one we struggled with at first, and Type and I felt like we were remiss at the idea of not immediately knowing what he does for fun ;o; But I think that’s because we so often focus on his job and the angst between he and his brother (prior to ATOS), so I’m gonna give us both a pass on that 😂 We brainstormed what he would like to do though, and the first thing that came to mind was that Dream definitely seems like the outdoorsy feral kind of person. So, with that in mind, some of things Dream likes to do in his spare time are practicing archery, skydiving (with birdtale!Sans jfjdjfkdjdj), and acrobatics/gymnastics. The last one doesn’t necessarily have to be outdoors, but Dream is kind of a wild thing that will look at a fallen tree trunk and be like “a balance beam! >:D” 😂😂😂 Honestly, the time he’s spent hanging around Ink has only enhanced that feral part of him, but between living outside with his brother for at least a little while during the beginning of their creation and living on his own with no real home before he stayed with Nightmare, there’s a bit of a restless part of Dream that means he’s constantly itching to go out and do something.

Nightmare finds this slightly feral part of his brother quite endearing, and they sometimes go out on dates involving enjoying nature. It’s some of Dream’s favourite memories :”)

Killer – He didn’t become talented with a knife without practice :3 Killer tries all types of combat moves in Nightmare’s training room with his knives as well as just fiddling with them to familiarize himself with how to draw them out quickly and throw them with pinpoint precision. He’s very talented when it comes to using them and exerting the right kind of pressure 👀💦 Another thing he enjoys is playing video games and streaming. It’s an outlet for him to help relax, and since he’s rather sociable, Killer likes being able to chat and meme with others while busying himself with a game. He’s built up quite the following on his channel. 

We’ve also talked about this before, but Killer really likes fashion and updating his wardrobe. Honestly, it became a bit of a problem when Killer would show up at a battle somehow looking impeccable in his choice of jacket and shorts/pants because Nightmare would find his eye wandering instead of focusing on who he was fighting LMAO

Night approached a sweating but beaming Killer one day after a successful battle and was like “You need to change into reasonable clothes that won’t restrict you when you fight.” And Killer gave him an odd look and said “These are my work clothes. They don’t restrict my movement at all???” But then he grinned wide and was all “I wasn’t distracting you, was I, boss? Because the last thing I would want is my ass being the center of your focus during a fight,” followed with a wink that said otherwise, and Nightmare was all “ugh.” The next battle Killer decided to forgo his jacket, and he wore his usual sleeveless turtleneck. During the briefest of moments, he looked up and found Nightmare staring at him, but as soon as they locked eyes, Nightmare looked away, a purple blush just barely visible against his corruption. Killer continued on with the battle with a cheery disposition, and Nightmare gave him a wide berth long afterwards because the smug smile on Killer’s face said it all. After that, he never commented on what Killer wore again, and deeming his little experiment successful, Killer resumed wearing his jacket. Honestly, he prefers wearing it while fighting as just a little layer of protection, but he was curious how Nightmare would react to him without it on.

Needless to say, that was information Killer stored in the back of his mind to consider later. Nightmare’s reaction gave him hope that there was something stirring between them.

[verai-marcel]

Dominion (RDO OC x F!Reader, 18+)

Summary: It's been a few weeks since your first meeting with Everett. You've been lying low, just getting by on chump change, but at this point you feel that it's safe to pull off a bigger heist. But destiny is a bitch and loves throwing wrenches into your plans. In this case, the wrench is named Everett.

Author’s Notes: I'll be honest, I was gonna write this anyway, even if no one liked the first part. Fortunately, many of you did. Thank you! Special thanks to @fangirl-ramblings for beta reading!

Tags: OC x F!Reader, rough sex, semi-public sex, clothed sex, shameless smut, doggy style, angry sex, sorta dubcon?

Tumblr exclusive fic! Also, if this fic gets 25 reblogs, I’ll post the next part of Neighbor AU a week early!

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

You had been canvassing the local art gallery for days. There had been news about a valuable item to be showcased there, and while most people had just waved it off as some art piece, you had a hunch it was more than that. 

You usually followed your gut when it came to leads like this, and it paid off; a few days ago, you overheard the security team discussing the plans for transporting and guarding the item before the opening night. You knew it was way too many guards for just a painting. 

It was a necklace, designed by some artist in France and being shown here as a way to increase culture in the city, or some such bullshit. To you, it was a ticket out of here. 

The building next door was tall and mostly empty, perfect for scoping out where your point of entry would be. You had planned to climb to the rooftop, sneak over to the adjoining building, shimmy down into the art gallery through the second floor window on the backside of the building. From there, you’d take the necklace and whatever else you could grab, and come out the service exit, through the alley, and maybe back up to the rooftops if you had to. 

You snuck into the top floor of the building next door and rested until nightfall, hiding amongst the crates. For the past few nights, you had been following the movements of the guards, taking notes of when they changed shifts and what their positions would be. It was a pretty tight operation, but they definitely didn’t guard the roof as well as they should have. Perhaps they thought they wouldn’t need to in a smaller city like this. Perhaps they thought they wouldn’t have to before news of the necklace became public knowledge.

Fools.

In the dark of 3AM, when most people were asleep, you were wide awake, making sure your knives were all sharp and in their proper place on your belt. You were planning to sneak in and sneak out, but if need be, you would fight your way out. You sat down and started reloading your guns, the empty floor echoing with the sound of you snapping each bullet into your revolver, then your pistol.

When you finished loading your guns, you stood up.

And immediately felt an arm around your waist and a hand clamp down on your mouth.

“Found you, puppy.”

You trembled. Everett Osborn, the bounty hunter who had fucked you so good that you had gone back to him for a second helping, held you tightly against his broad chest. His heart was a steady beat in contrast to your staccato breaths. With your arms trapped, you moved to step on his toes, but he lifted you up and bent you over a nearby crate, quickly grabbing your wrists with one hand and stepping forward to trap your legs between his. His hips pressed against your rear end, causing a flash of heat to shoot through your body at your vulnerable position. He stroked your back, shushing you quietly as you squirmed in his grip. When you finally laid still, he laughed smugly.

“Been a while, sweetheart. Missed you somethin’ fierce.” Everett bent over, pressing his chest against your back. He dug one hand into your hair and pulled, forcing your head to one side so he could kiss along the column of your neck. You bit your lip, trying not to react to his touch, but a small whimper escaped your lips when he rolled his hips slightly.

“Now, you wouldn’t be thinkin’ of stealing a certain necklace, would you?”

You froze.

“So you are.”

“What’s it matter to you?” you blurted out, finally finding your voice.

He pulled your hair harder. “Do you have any idea how many bounty hunters are after you?”

You shrugged, despite the tight hold he had on you. “I haven’t run into any until you.”

“That’s because I’ve been keepin’ them off your back,” he growled.

You turned your head just enough to look at him. You could barely see anything, but his eyes, so close to yours, reflected the dim light of the streetlights below. There was a dark hunger to his gaze, something both possessive and protective that made your heart skip a beat.

“I thought I told you to be a good girl,” he rumbled, letting go of your hair to trail his hand down to your neck, where he gripped it for a moment, shaking you slightly. “Do you need a reminder of who owns you?”

“No sir,” you said automatically. You inwardly winced at yourself, shamed that you had immediately responded in such a submissive manner.

“I think you do,” he purred as his hand traveled down your body to your pants, undoing the button fly with deft fingers, pulling them down around your thighs. His hand slipped past the open seam of your drawers, humming when felt nothing between you and his insistent touch.

“Already wet for me, hmm? Your body knows who you belong to,” he crooned as he slowly stroked your slit, your juices coating his fingers as he pressed two of them inside of you.

“Ev… Everett,” you moaned helplessly, unable to resist backing your hips towards him.

He chuckled, his tone deep and smug as he held you down and pressed his palm against your core while his fingers curled into you, hitting a spot that made lighting flash down your spine.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped as he took your earlobe between his lips and lovingly nibbled on you, his fingers forming a steady rhythm. You could feel his cock, hard against your body, and out of spite, you rubbed your ass against him.

“Want this, puppy?” he asked sweetly, pressing himself harder against you.

“Yes, please!”

“Lemme hear you whimper. Show me how much you want my cock.” He grabbed your neck again and held you close. “Beg me to fuck you.”

You let out all of the moans you had been holding back, mewling loudly as you moved your hips, trying desperately to get more pressure from his touch. “Please, please Everett, I… I need you to fuck me, use me, take me!”

He suddenly let go of you and stepped back, leaving you feeling completely abandoned, so much so that you choked back a sob as the cool air breezed past your bare skin. But the sound of buttons being undone and shifting fabric was quickly followed by his warm body against yours once more, his cock sliding along your wet folds, the tip of him teasing your opening. He bent over you and shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you taste your essence as he began to press inside of you.

“Lick me clean, just like a good girl,” he murmured, sinking fully inside of you with one swift roll of his hips. He stayed still for a few moments, holding you close and nuzzling your cheek, the stubble on his chin scratching against your skin.

Then he snapped his hips back and slammed into you, beginning his rough treatment of you, taking you hard as he grunted low in your ear, laughing darkly at your whimpers.

“That’s right, you’ve earned a good hard fuck, haven’t you? Begging me so sweetly.” Everett wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. “You wanna come, pet?”

At your vigorous nod, he snaked a hand down between your legs and rubbed your center. As your hips jerked forward, you could feel his grin against your temple as he smacked your ass a few times before returning to stroking you, heating you up, leading you towards a fiery explosion.

“You feel so perfect,” he grunted as he sped up, chasing his release as he furiously sent you to yours. A hot shock of pleasure spread through your body, your legs shaking, your arms trembling as you held onto the crate for dear life while Everett pounded into you, his hands moving to your hips to hold you up.

“Fuck….” he moaned as he pulled out. He grabbed you by the neck and pulled you off the crate, onto your knees. Turning your head, he pinched your nose, forcing your mouth open before he shoved his cock between your lips. Immediately you sucked on his thick shaft, looking up at him with half-shut eyes.

Everett gripped your hair with both hands as he came, spilling into your mouth with a deep groan. As you swallowed every last drop of his spend, he stepped away from you and kneeled with you, pulling you into his arms. He pet your head and nuzzled you, murmuring, “good girl,” over and over.

Surprised by his sudden act of tenderness, you tentatively put your arms around him and hugged him back.

“Please don’t rob the gallery.”

You pulled away. “I’ve been planning this for weeks,” you said, ready to tell him off, but seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you faltered, your rant dying on your lips.

“Don’t make it harder for me to keep you alive,” he whispered as he stroked your cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I ain’t perfect. One of these days, a hunter is going to get past me and get to you.”

He pulled you back into his arms. “Please. Stay low for a while. Don’t do anything dangerous.”

“How am I supposed to make money?”

“Work with me.”

You sighed and pulled away. He let you go as you slowly stood up and pulled your pants back up. “Bounty hunting is a far different job from what I do now.”

Everett put himself back together as he answered you. “Still some sneakin’ involved. Your stealth could be a great asset.”

You sighed. This was your life. But having Everett around all the time…

“You won’t be a thief with me?”

He shook his head. “Can’t do that, puppy. Goes against my code.”

“So why do you protect me?”

“I… I don’t know. I should turn you in.” He looked up at you, and in the dim ambient light, you thought you saw a helplessness in his eyes. “But I don’t want to. I’m selfish. I want you to myself.”

At a crossing roads, you didn’t know what to do. You knew that if you continued with your plan, Everett would stop you. You knew that if you went with him, your life would change forever.

“I need time to think about it.” You paused, looking out the window at the gallery below. “But I won’t rob the gallery tonight.” Watching Everett as he slowly got up and stood next to you, his hands wrapping around your waist, you wondered about a future with him. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he said softly.

Seeing a longing in his eyes as he gently gazed at you, your heart clenched and you wondered if this was what it was like to fall for someone you shouldn’t fall for.

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

End Notes: I think this might be it for Everett x Reader for a while, unless I come up with something else! Hope you enjoyed my self-indulgent story!

[omnivorousshipper]

Request Friday: Shobbs with a Modern Magic AU twist. Luke is a by the books, follows the strict guidelines forbeing a wizard. Deckard, due to his specialized spec op training tends to utilize more grey practices. I loved to see a few examples of the boys not having the right ingredients/circumstances/equipment and Deckard gets creative with how to get the spell done. Luke is adamantly against it and then reluctantly impressed, only to eventually try his hand at it too. Like, Luke uses a traditional wand to channel magic— Deckard uses whatever object at hand to get the job done. Luke is a powerhouse but lacks Deckard’s finesse with spellwork— so Luke blasts the door off the hinges while Deck charms the lock open. Luke knocks a guard out, Deck Jedi Mind Tricks them. Whatever examples you’d like or can come up with!

Hey friend! Sorry I kept this one off, but it was just such an amazing idea, I wanted to save it for later when I could get all of my ideas down. Because this is going to be such an amazing Au!!! Again, sorry it took me a week to do it 😭

~~~

Like glared at the other warlock sitting across from him, who was smirking like crazy. Which Luke hated because Deckard Shaw shouldn't look so smug wearing an orange jumpsuit and handcuffs

"I'm not sure how the fuck you managed to set your last cell on fire, only using a coin," Luke hissed. "But your magical shenanigan bullshit is going to come to an end."

Shaw simply smirked harder.

"Aw, is the shitty little agent jealous that he's too thick headed to think outside of the box for once?" He taunted

"Unlike a piece of scum criminal like you, I don't have to rely on stupid little tricks to save my ass." Luke snarled. "If you pull another stunt like this, I'll make sure they stuff a magical suppressor down your throat."

Shaw narrowed his eyes

"I'd like to see you try."

~~~

When Luke finds himself in the cell across from Deckard, wearing his own orange jumpsuit, Luke knows deep down he had the same ingenious ideas that Shaw did when it came to magic

Because when he watches Deckard mumble a few short words and draw a symbol in the air with his magic, Luke's impressed as the symbol seems to solidify and act as a small platform Deckard can jump off of

Luke's never seen someone do something like that before. Even the oldest masters he knows of would need a much longer incantation

Nonetheless, Luke uses his own magic to boost his speed, but knows it's nothing compared to Deckard's

~~~

Luke finds himself sitting across from Deckard again, but this time, neither are playing the role of criminal and law enforcer. No, they're both after Cipher and using any means necessary

Which apparently includes several pencils, if the ones in Deckard's hands show anything

"Shaw, what the fresh hell are you doing?"

"Saving magic."

"What."

"Have you never put your own magic into an object?" Deckard asked him, eyeing Luke as if he had just asked Deckard how to breath

"I've used fucking wands before, you asshole. But normally those involve unicorn or phoenix. Not graphite."

"I swear, Hobbs. Every single time we meet, it's like you've never even used your magic." Deckard sighed and sent Luke a pitying look. "If you use an object enough, it gains a certain amount of magic. This is how haunted items exist, but by adding my magic to an object rapidly, it is held in the object, but not used by the object since it's not used to the magic."

Luke stared

Deckard stared back

"And how are a bunch of pencils going to help?"

Deckard rolled his eyes again

"If I'm low on magic, I can either draw from the pencils, or just use them as raw magic and chuck 'em."

"Like a grenade."

"Like a grenade."

~~~

"No!"

Luke could still feel the way his throat burned when he had screamed that. He could still feel the fear and horror coursing through his veins as he watched Deckard's limp body land on the ground, the ringing of several bullets still in Luke's ears

Now, watching Deckard mixing a few things together to make a clear slime, Luke had to wonder why he felt so strongly about Deckard

Deckard just smiled at him, and Luke could see out of the corner of his eye that Sam was already enchanted by Deckard's magic

The Brit made a circle with his fingers and dipped them into the slime and pulled it back out. With a wink, Deckard blew between his fingers

"Oh my god! Dad, look!" Sam exclaimed excitedly

Shaking his head, Luke just watched a huge bubbles slipped from Deckard's fingers, the bubbles glistening strongly in the sunlight and showing off every color imaginable

"Very impressive. Especially since you used coca cola as one of the ingredients in your potion." Luke said dryly. Deckard just smiled bigger and blew a bubble into his face

~~~

"All right, how do you want to play this?" Luke whispered. He looked over at Deckard, who was also peaking out at the Eteon guards

"Slow and carefully. Take them out one by one." Deckard whispered back

"Got it.'

Raising a hand, Luke held his magic for a bit, letting it build up until releasing it. The large blast hit every single goon in the hallway, making them collapse to the ground unmoving

"Bloody fucking hell, Luke!" Deckard yelped next to him. "Do you want to be more obvious?!"

Luke felt his ears burn at the way Deckard glared at him

"That's what I was trained for."

"You're more than just some high voltage weapon," Deckard snapped. "This is why I tell you you're not subtle at all!"

With that, Deckard storms ahead, leaving Luke to wonder if his training truly was for naught

~~~

Luke eyed the green concoction in front of him

"If you're tying to poison me, I was hoping you'd be a little less obvious, Deck."

"Shut it, twinkletoes," Deckard said back, no heat in his voice. He was still focused on carefully grabbing up extra spiderweb to throw into cauldron he was using. "This potion will help with your cold."

"Are you sure about that?" Luke asked slowly. "I don't remember you being trained as a healer."

Deckard shrugged

"When you had to practically raise two brats that got sick constantly, you learned how to do the basics."

"Without a professional telling you if what you're doing will kill the other person."

"If I wanted to kill you, I would have used this knife. Now shut up and take the potion."

Wrinkling his nose, Luke did so.

~~~

"Deckard! Deck! Come on, talk to me!" Luke begged, his voice cracking just a bit at the end.

Deckard simply answered him with a bone rattling wheeze as he laid still in Luke's arms, too weak to do much else as the wound in his chest bled.

He was covered in blood, and so was Luke, as the larger man tried to desperately press his hand against Deckard's wound and keep him alive.

"Deck, stay with me. Helps on its way." Luke kept talking and tried to keep Deckard awake

Deckard weakly shook his head

"Not- not going to make it." Deckard gasped

"Deck, don't say that!"

"Luke, stop."

"I'm not going to let you be a fucking martyr, you jackass!"

That made the corner of Deckard's mouth raise

"No. There's another way."

"Goddammit Deck! How many times do I have to remind you neither of us are trained healers! We can't just force our magic on each other and heal."

"Then make it neutral magic." Deckard gasped in pain, but kept eye contact with Luke, willing him to think

Luke stared at him

"No. Deck. I can't-"

"Luke," Deckard whispered. "It's the only way."

"No! It's not Deckard!" But even as Luke said that, he knew he was lying. He could see the life leaving Deckard rapidly. Backup wouldn't make it. "Fine! But I'll need a magic conductor."

"My knife."

Luke glared at him

Deckard simply stared back, eyes glassy

Knowing he had no choice, Luke grabbed for one of the many knives on Deckard's person. Once he had the large knife in his hand, he looked back down at Deckard

He was infinitely pale and kept gasping for air.

Luke didn't have much time

Releasing his hold on Deckard's wound, Luke grasped the knife with both hands, one palm on the blade and being cut opening

Ignoring the pain, Luke concentrated and slowly, but steadily pumping the knife with as much magic as he could without destroy it.

It felt like and eternity, with only Deckard's ragged breathing filling the air

"Luke, that should be enough." Deckard called weakly. "Quickly, stab me with it."

"Stab you?! I'm trying to keep you alive, not finish you off!"

Deckard shook his head

"It's the only way the magic will transfer fully."

"Deck, if this doesn't work..."

"It will. Trust me."

Luke could see the determination and trust in Deckard's eyes. Somehow the smaller man knew Luke's magical stabbing wouldn't kill him

Without another word, Luke brought the knife up to Deckard's wound, took a deep breath and slowly slid the knife in

Deckard threw his head back with a low, pained groan until the knife was halfway in

Luke let the handle go, and stared in horror at the knife protruding from Deckard's chest

He had just sealed Deckard's fate

Suddenly, the knife was faintly glowing, the light growing brighter and brighter every second. Luke's eyes grew along with it

He could see the magic pouring off the knife, and spiraling down into Deckard's body. Slowly, the wound started to close as the magic started healing the smaller man

"Luke!" Deckard gasped. "Take it out!"

Without hesitation, Luke grabbed the knife's handle and very slowly drew it out, the magic flowing down it and repairing the damage left behind

As soon as the knife was free, Luke tossed it away from them, and gently grabbed for Deckard. His wound was still there but it looked infinitely better

"Deck."

"Luke." The Brit looked up at him, pain still eched on his face. "I knew you could do it, she-hulk."

Smiling down at Deckard, Luke cupped his face

"Yeah, well, I needed someone to help me think outside the box."

"Glad I could finally show you what magic's all about." Deckard smiled back

I hope you enjoyed this friend! Sorry again for taking so long on it!

[punsandfuturekingsmen-archive]

//If you go to read this, also consider reading Splatter’s original version here!

A lot of the events are very much the same as they are in that piece, and the dialogue parts are pretty much word for word since it’s from Splatterlewis’s perspective! I just added a bit from Arthur near the end and here and there, and just played around with describing things haha.

~

He thought that might be the end of it, or at least he thought he knew what to expect next, given his own history with his own Lewis.

So when the next flash didn’t involve trucks or fights with tree yokai, he felt confusion fuzz at the corners of his brain. No… it was somewhere deep and dark. He wandered in some kind of stupor, filled to the brim with a hundred thoughts and feelings, all of them cutting at his skin like knives and a rage that continued to burn in his chest. The rest was vague to leave an impression, but it still stabbed at him as he stumbled along.

But even in the haze he wandered in, he noticed when something began to stalk him from the shadows. The signs of their presence were clear: the area seemed to shift green and bleed it from the earth and sky. Smoke filled every nick and cranny, thick enough to choke on by any who might need to breathe.

He felt himself pulled from the daze with a snap. Something about the spirit set off alarm bells in his mind and left the hairs on his arms and neck standing on end. The smoke and the green consumed everything, the shade just right to remind him of somewhere else. His brain fired on all cylinders, trying to remember anything Vivi might have said that could help him. All that came to him was that this was something powerful. Something dangerous.

He still couldn’t see it in the smoke, but he could feel the weight of its presence. He called out for it, shouting into the green void an almost challenge. Seeing the cave’s greens made him wonder, and he asked if it came to finish what was left of him. The cry reverberated around him in the emptiness, seeming to ricochet off smoke.

The feeling of something dangerous grew stronger, rocking against him like a crescendo in a song mourning his end. But he didn’t want to end here, and his hands ignited with shimmering violet-pink flames. His eyes darted around the whole of the place, searching for movement.

A laugh alerted him, though the aura of power from the thing that found him might have done just the same if it hadn’t. A voice old as time and antique in accent spoke. The tone was something that itched at his skin..

       “Boy, I have never met you… Lewis, is it? Such a lovely name, for a lovely soul… So full of fire, of power, and rage. Why would I wish to drive you to hell, when you are the key to my freedom?”

He could feel himself heating up. The fires in his hand seemed to brighten until they blurred the air at the edges of each flame. His hair felt warmer, and shades of pink glistened and reflected off green smoke from where it was now glimmering, ready to ignite.

A clarity struck him, that this was not what he’d met before. It was something greater.

“Show yourself!” He called for the thing, teeth flashing in a grimace. Anger bubbled at the notion of being scared by this thing. By it trying to intimidate him. He was not about to lose, not after everything he had gone through.

But then they obliged.

The skeleton that moved into view was verdant, a hue of green that was deep and dark. Scant remains of decaying flesh still hung from putrid bones, and each piece that lingered had names endlessly scrawled, carved and etched into every inch of skin until they nearly lost meaning, but did not overlap. A cloth kilt and robes hung from its form and swayed with the steps it took, barely clinging to the emaciated remains of the creature and worn in places to threads.

On the head of the skull was a carving. One that recognition pricked at him distantly for. It was the one he’d seen on Lewis’s head for years. But this one, blackened as char and cracked, seemed to give off a shadowy aura, absorbing the light to nothing around it in way that made it seem to glow. It had never looked like that on Splatter. Or… not that he knew of. But what did he really know?

The memory seized him again. “Such a demanding tone, for someone about to lose their soul… You have a fire in you, a fire I need. And you will give it, aye?”

He felt a flash of pride, or protective fury, and he pointed to the creature with a fist wreathed in fire and a glare Mrs. Pepper would have been proud of (the thought hurt as it struck him).  “You can never have my soul, I refuse. No one can have it!”

The skeleton moved in a way that divulged something of its thought of what he had said, but he didn’t have the moment to process it. The corruption that hung in the air seemed to thicken and shift, forming blade-sharp arrows, tainted and green. He barely moved out of the way as they streaked by. A few sliced holes in his already damaged shirt, a testament to how close they managed to get to striking him.

With a growl that twisted his face in a snarl, he returned fire. But as the flames blasted over the creature, it stood there, taking the attack without flinching. It laughed, even at it stumbled back from the force, seeming wholly unfazed.

The shock after seeing what his fire could do held him still, and it was enough for a return blast from the skeleton to strike true. The bolt crashed against his chest, the pain hard and heavy and making him double over with a wheeze. He gasped for breath as if he needed it, clutching at his bruised chest and stomach.

The creature seemed amused and its tone held danger, a promise of a cruel fate. “You have no idea who you fight, boy…. In life, centuries and centuries ago, I was once known as Professor Hean Feramin. A genius of studies of names and their power and origins, as well as medical studies… But now, in death, I am known as ‘The Splatter Man’… Do you have any idea the number of people I have killed? The souls I have claimed and the power I wield…? The hordes of monsters that followed me, and respected me, their king?!”

It laughed again, something deeper, and with a flare of green smoke, a quill formed that he took between thumb and forefinger. It twirled with a flourish as it brought a skeletal hand up as if to write on a chalkboard, stroking the tip of the quill against the empty air.

Where it scratched, letters formed, Large and flamboyant in a way letters often were when they began a chapter of a book, like fanciful olden English. Each letter that adorned the air became red, droplets of it falling off and towards the ground.

L.

His head began to spin, and he stumbled.

E.

W.

He didn’t realize when he hit his knees, but he was on them now, the energy to return to one knee felt like it took all he had. His stomach lurched and a sense of exhaustion burned at his eyes.

The Splatter Man held the quill as if poised for the next letter, but instead he twisted the quill against his palm and crushed it to nothing, blood dripping from his hand where it had been before fading.

Hands laced behind his back, the Splatter Man approached. He could see even more names along the pallid skin, burned in or cut in jagged lines. The skin on his face was gone, and he could see fire-red embers aglow in the sockets, sizing him up. He felt something touch his feet. Something scaly and thick, and the sound of hissing told him what it was.

“Are you starting to understand? I can use your name against you, I can learn any name by staring… And everyone’s’ name holds their soul, their strength… And can be manipulated… Hold still now, and welcome the warm embrace of death. You will free me from this prison.”

He was down on his knee, fighting for that will to stand again, hissing through his teeth at The Splatter Man. He could feel blood soaking the tatters of his shirt, spilling red in thick rivers from what once had been the scars of his death. They were open now, weeping blood until he was slick with it. Weakness had sunk into his bones. His thoughts slipped to his name, but they quickly snapped back as a boney hand found the front of his shirt, gripping the fabric tight. He was sure of one thing.

The Splatter Man was preparing for the kill.

The thought ended nearly the moment the hand lifted, hoisting him easily into the air.  He gagged, choked on blood and agony, and looked down at The Splatter Man, panic seeping in and turning everything icy. He was aloft, feet not touching the ground.

Fear crept along his spine. A fear he’d only felt once before.

It made him sick.

He could hear the way a smugness threaded the chuckle of the Splatter Man. He watched, limp in his hold as his free hand twisted, and a dagger formed, hilt curled perfectly to his hand. The gemstones along the hilt glittered with the green light, and the runes also etched almost seemed to glow in their reflections.

He realized what the intention was, when the dagger raised back with the hand.

It came forward at an unnatural speed, piercing his chest over his heart so hard he felt sure he was about to cave inwards. He screamed, screamed as he felt like he was being torn asunder, screaming louder than he thought himself capable. Blood seeped around the blade and it ripped another cry from hi as the dagger twisted, cutting deeper, opening the wound ever further. His chest was on fire and his voice gave out as his scream reached a climax, even his own ears ringing with the sound. The tendrils of corruption magic began to ebb towards the new wound, and he felt slithering along his clothing, before seeing the snakes he’d only heard and felt. They also pressed against the bleeding wound in his chest, and a sound escaped as it seared, the curls of his shirt at the edge of the blade blackening from the heat.

“Ah, you have some fight in you. Good, I will need that… You will free me from this purgatory. This prison. And I shall reclaim my throne… The death left in my wake will be unlike anything this world has ever seen, and you will help me, boy. Your essence will be mine.”

The torture burning him turned to lava, melting through the wound and his veins and then melting down to the organs and viscera. The sounds he thought he would make were gone now, rendered to silent convulsions. He could hear something, and he swore it was his soul, creaking and shuddering as agony struck blows that threatened to crack it in pieces.

But he grit his teeth, jaw squaring, and a snarl crept along his face. He couldn’t end here. Not when…. Someone needed him. Someone….Vivi.

Vivi.

VIVI.

VIVI! HE HAD TO PROTECT HER!

HE HAD TO PROTECT ALL OF HIS FRIENDS!!

A second wind surged through him, his heart beating fast and wild as his eyes widened. Gold light reflected off the bone in front of him from them. The skeleton paused.

“NO! I SAID. THAT. I. REFUSE!!”

His fingers stiffened on one hand that he reared back with, and then he jammed it forward, letting them force their way through the bones of the Splatter Man. His fingers searched blind, until he felt something. It felt rotted, soft and dry like the withered husk of a jack-o-lantern left out far past Halloween, and his fingers squeezed it to his palm.

The Splatter Man flinched as he did, yelling himself, and then howling as his flames returned, glowing violet inside the skeleton’s chest and hungrily eating at the thing left in his hand.

The Splatter Man summoned things, things that snapped at his body and slashed at his skin. Magic that pounded against him with bruising, bone breaking force. But he didn’t let go. He didn’t falter. His eyes stayed focused on his task, and his hands stayed tight around that heart as the flames began to grow and eat. He held on, determined with every fiber of his being, fighting tooth and nail for every inch over what felt like eternity locked together.

But inch by inch he gained traction, pushed further. The Splatter man’s eyes widened, a grimace taking it and a trickle of fear seemed to stitch itself to the edges of his expression. He could hear it in his voice, the slightest way it quavered even with his anger.

“What the hell are you doing?! You will destroy us BOTH YOU FOOL! What is keeping you from giving up the ghost?!”

He ignored him, hissing in his fury like a skillet of oil. His fire crackled and popped within the other, and he grabbed the Splatter Man’s wrist with the hand not in his chest, holding tight. His voice was a battle cry.

“Because I have REASONS TO COME BACK! I will use YOU!”

His hand on that rest continued to move, shooting forwards at lightning speed. He dug his fingers into the bone of the skull in front of him, grip crushing and bones creaking at the sutures. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he held on, and pulled at the energy of the Splatter Man.

The Splatter Man seemed to realize what was trying to do nearly the moment he started, and he tried to pull back, retreat with fervor. The blade in Lewis’s chest came out, spraying them both with red so red it was black and bright red from the arteries and purple that glowed. It all saturated their clothing until they dripped with his blood. But he didn’t falter. Didn’t once blink.

Well. Lewis didn’t falter. He probably would have.

The Splatter Man screeched.

“Release me!”

“Never.”

The fire in the Splatter Man’s was glowing brighter, white hot as it lashing out in heated waves like solar flares. The skeleton screeched, something high pitched and bone grinding, and he just leaned closer feeling vitality running through him, strengthening him.

He screamed one last time, and then his skull gave way beneath Lewis’s other hand, crumpling inwards like dried paper beneath a vise grip.

Purple and green light flashed, and Lewis fell the short drop to his feet, and then his knees. He panted for breath, clutching his chest, but watched with a sense of satisfaction as the skeleton crumbled, falling to pieces on the earth in front of him, a hallowed husk.

But with that power came a price, and he could see it seeping into the tips of his fiery hair, that curved just over his eyes. What had been pale shades of embery pink was now shifted, flickering green. Thoughts were flicking through his head over what the Splatter Man had meant and triumph at defeating him, even if he was exhausted by the effort. He could feel the power now, pulsing through himself.

Clambering to his feet, he rubbed at his face, before looking up, and seeing the same emblem that had adorned the skull of The Splatter Man, hovering in the air. It still glowed as it seemed to hum, before it arced forward, making him jump. It slammed against his forehead and he screamed as it burned, melting, burning through his flesh and then further into the bone of his skull and just a little further still until the imprint was etched into him, unmistakable for what it was. It continued to burn and burn and tear at him and—

Arthur woke up screaming, hand going to his forehead and chest where blood had started streaming down the side of his face and torso, down along his side where he was still pressed into the grass. His fingers turned slick as he held them against his forehead and shirt and he squeezed his eyes shut, shaking so hard he convulsed where he lay.

He couldn’t die. But at this point he almost wished he could.

[thefloatingstone]

We’ve gone from Self-Isolation to Quarantine and in some places to gradual relaxation phases, but that doesn’t stop the need for more nonsense you can watch on youtube while you wait for things to get back to normal. And recommending things and making lists are some of my favourite things to do but I have not yet figured out how to start or structure a video myself, you guys get another rambling tumblr post of things you can watch on youtube.

This time I’m once again just gonna recommend individual videos rather than full channels like I did in part 2.

Part 1

Part 2

In no particular order; 

LOCAL58: The Broadcast Station that Manipulates You

I recently started watching the Nexpo channel when I went on a binge of creepy youtube videos. Most of his videos are really good although the ones where he himself goes into theory crafting can be a little asinine. However, this video is REALLY good. And before you get nervous, LOCAL58 is not a real TV station. LOCAL58 is a youtube channel created by the same guy behind the Candle Cove creepypasta. This video by Nexpo covers the various episodes of LOCAL58 and discusses them. Just be aware going in that this is abstract horror, and will probably get under your skin regardless if you’re unaffected by certain topics or not. although cw for suicide mention.

I also recommend most of the rest of this channel, although be careful where you tread. I don’t recommend his series “Disturbing things from around the internet” as it can sometimes include real life crime, abuse and such caught on security cameras. Everything else is really good tho. (although I was really annoyed by his 2 videos on KrainaGrzybowTV)

The Search for D.B. Cooper

LEMMiNO has a new video out covering one of the most unexplained crimes in the past century of the US. LEMMiNO is the guy I’ve recommended before who did videos on the Universal S. He is very down to earth and not someone prone to conspiracy or even really that fanciful of thinking. (He’s like the one person I feel covered the Dyaltov Pass incident and was confused by why this was even a mystery because if you read the Russian Autopsy reports and documents associated with the case it’s all pretty logical and easily explained)

D.B. Cooper is the name given to a man who, in 1971, hijacked an airplane with a bomb, asked for a large sum of money, and after receiving it, parachuted from the plane and was never seen or heard from again.

The Austrian Wine Poisoning | Down the Rabbit Hole

Down the Rabbit Hole also has a new video out, this time covering the Austrian Wine Poisoning event from 1985. A scandal that involved literally the entire country of Austria, affected multiple countries, and forever changed the way wine was made world wide. As someone who is generally pretty allergic to most artificial substances this one made me personally very angry. But luckily, it has a happy ending and a better world for us all... if I could drink wine which I can’t do anyway.

The Turbulent Tale of Yandere Dev - A Six Year Struggle

The Right Opinion is another channel I only recently subbed to after watching his cover on Onion Boy. I put off subbing to him simply because of his channel name and I thought it meant he would come across as smug and elitist. Luckily this seems to merely be one of those “I chose a bad channel name and now I’m stuck with it” type of situations. (IHE has a similar problem).

Anyway, I have a weird interest in bizarre internet personalities, so I’ve been enjoying his channel as he simply discusses and presents a timeline of events of certain individuals. In this video, he covers the developer behind the much maligned Yandere Simulator. It’s a tale of hubris, arrogance, immaturity, and an unwillingness to accept your own shortcomings due to ego.

Oh and there’s a meme game about Japanese school girls with anime tiddies in there as well.

The Most Relaxing Anime Ever Made | Yokohama Kaidashi Kikō

Kenny Lauderdale is a youtube channel which is slowly becoming bigger which I’m very happy to see. He exclusively covers anime and live action Japanese television no younger than the mid 90s (as is the case with YYK) and which usually never saw a release outside of Japanese Laserdisc. I do wish his videos were a little longer, but if nothing else his videos serve as an excellent starting to point to find some older and underappreciated shows... or hot garbage fires. In this episode he talks about the 2 OVA episodes made based on one of my favourite manga, Yokohama Shopping Log. A Post apocalyptic anime about an android who runs a coffee shop outside of her house, and the quiet solitude of living in a world of declining human population, brief encounters with travelers and other people, and just... existing. The anime was never released outside of Japan and is only available on Japanese VHS and laserdisc.... but hey guess what!! Somebody uploaded both episodes, subbed, to Youtube.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C2HCVOH6DtA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yqSTwfkobME

YMS’ slow descent into madness as he uncovers just how bullshit the Kimba Conspiracy is

I’m linking a full playlist for this one.

YMS is busy planning his review on the “live action” Lion King remake as the original 1994 movie is probably his favourite movie all time (and also self declared what made him a furry). As part of the 2 hour review, he decided to what all 2000 hours of Kimba the White Lion just to mention how The Lion King potentially stole the idea. ....until he actually watched all 2000 hours of Kimba and realised that if you actually WATCH Kimba, it has VERY little to do with the Lion King at all apart from having the same animals in them because AFRICA. Watch as one man slowly loses his mind as he realises just how stupid this conspiracy theory is, just HOW DECEITFUL and straight up LYING people can be. People who write BOOKS. People who teach LAW AT UNIVERSITIES. Because NOBODY bothered to actually watch the entire show and just parroted the “Disney stole this” lie which got started by like 2 salty fans on the internet.

The man set out to just mention how Disney stole an idea, and uncovered one of the most infuriating rabbit holes on the internet. Screaming for SOMEONE to provide him with sources or evidence.

YMS will be publishing his full Kimba documentary this month which he has said is around 2 hours long before he continues to work on the Lion King one.

Science Stories: Loch Ness eDNA results, Poop Knives, and Skeleton Lovers

TREY the Explainer has a video giving us some updates in Archeology from 2019. In this video he discusses the findings of the eDNA results conducted on the Loch Ness to see what animal DNA the lake contains which will tell us what living animals currently inhabit the lake, ancient knives made of poop and if this is a real thing that could have existed, and a skeleton couple found buried together which were at first thought to be lovers, then revealed to be both male, and then how in this instance we cannot let our modern sensibilities dictate what we WANT this burial find to be, but to look at the evidence as presented to us and place in context finds of this nature. The worst thing an archaeologist can do is look for proof to a theory they already have.

The Bizarre Modern Reality of Sonic the Hedgehog

Super Eyepatch Wolf is back and he’s here to talk to us about the very very strange existence of Sonic. a 90s rebellious “too cool for School” answer to Mario, a lost idea as the world of video games changes and culture shifted, a meme and punching bag amplified by a unique fanbase and poor quality games, a transcendence into a horrific warped  idea of what he once was, and modern day and where Sonic and his fans are now. As usual Super Eyepatch Wolf knocks it out of the park.

Kokoro Wish and the Birth of a Multiverse: A Lecture on the Work of Jennifer Diane Reitz

I don’t even sub to this channel as I’m not entirely sure what Ben’s usual content is about. But every now and then he has a “101″ class, where he explains to a room full of his friends in a classroom setting (complete with Whiteboard) an internet artist and oddity, the timeline, and what it is they have created. (wait... didn’t I say this already?). Unlike TRO however, the 101 classrooms are not a dark look into disturbed individuals (although the CWC 101 is debatable) nor is it a “lol look at this weirdo” dragging. Instead, of the 3 he’s done so far, it’s usually a rather sympathetic look at some of the strange artists on the internet who through some way or another, left a very big cultural impact on the internet space through their art. Sometimes they may not be the best people, but their work is so outside of what we’re used to seeing that just listening to him run you through these people’s internet history is fascinating.

In this episode he talks about Jennifer Diane Reitz. And although it is titled Kokoro Wish, the lecture is more about Jennifer’s larger work back in the early internet when being a weeb was unheard of, how being trans influenced her stories and characters, and her world building that is so rich and in-depth with it’s own ASTRO PHYSICS it puts any modern fictional world found in games or movies to shame.

Jennifer is not exactly a nice person... and in many ways can be seen as dangerously irresponsible, but she created something truly unique in a way that you kinda struggle figuring out if it’s terrible or a work of genius.

Anyway I think that’s enough for now

[kayteewritessteve]

Okay, Deal.

Description: A tower game night ends in a slightly different way then you’d have expected.

Masterlist HERE.

Word Count: 3,970 ish.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Rating: G

Requested: Yes, by the lovely @casuallydarktiger . She’d originally asked for a Bucky one shot, but as I don’t currently write for the handsome Buck, I asked if she’d be okay with a Steve one instead. So, here it is! My first Marvel one shot request! Hopefully I did your request justice, lovely! And I can’t wait to hear what you think of it!!

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader either, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

You stared across the table at the very large super soldier, who was currently deciding whether he wanted to royally screw you over or not. Or at least that’s what you assumed he was trying to figure out. Though his fixed, impassive expression wasn’t giving you a damn thing to go on at the moment. And it was taking everything in you to not show an ounce of the current internal turmoil that was raging inside you. You fought valiantly to keep your nonchalant, relaxed and be it slightly smug expression on the outside. His eyesight was far too good, far too fast, and even if you slipped up only a little. Let just one millisecond of nerves affect your expression, he’d see it. Damn near in slow motion at that. And he’d know, god, he’d totally know that you were fucking bluffing. 100%.

So how did you end up in basically a stare off with thee Steve Rogers, a man they literally say was ‘frozen in time’—Shit, yeah, you were most likely doomed to lose this stare off from the start— you ask? Oh, well, let me explain that for you.

A few hours earlier.

The tower was abuzz with activity, as all the avengers were actually home at the same time, which was something that didn’t happen all that often. Usually at least 2 or 3 were off on missions, sometimes damn near all of you were gone. However, by the grace of God, nothing was happening in the world right now. And every team member was in attendance tonight, so Tony decided that was a perfect excuse for a team building night. Or a ‘family game night’ as some of you called it.

You’d all met in the main living area, and then had a hearty group discussion about which game to actually play.

Thor had offered up Monopoly, which Nat had vetoed damn near instantly. Citing that Tony and Sam always got way to into it, and she was not interested in spending the next 3 days watching them play one stupid game, that would just result in Sam flipping the board game off the table in a fit of rage. To which both Sam and Tony attempted to claim was complete bullshit and a defamation of character, respectively. But the pointed glares from the rest of the group shut them both up. Instantly.

Wanda offered up Pictionary, but Sam groaned and refused to play against Steve, or Tony. But especially Steve, however instead of using his name, he referred to him as ‘the da vinci over there’. So yeah, pictionary was also out.

Clint had suggested Cards Against Humanity, but then quickly rescinded that offer when he saw the wicked grin break out on Tony’s lips. That game was a total blast, however, it always took a dark and awkward turn, rather quickly, when Tony was involved. And honestly, no one ever won against him, he was just too damn good at that game.

Rhodey offered up Risk, but that was axed due to obvious reasons.

Tony then suggested Trivial Pursuit, clearly as a dig at the super soldiers, who both caught on to that and then abruptly shot down the idea, saying it wasn’t fair to play since they were both, basically, not around for the last 40 years—that being the time frame in which Trivial Pursuits questions all came from.

So then the suggestions continued on, adding Life, Clue, and Sorry to the pile of now vetoed games.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Bruce brought up Poker, and you had to try not to excitedly jump at the suggestion. Everyone seemed to mull it over, a few trying to say that they weren’t really that interested or that they didn’t have any cash on them, but then Tony got an idea.

“What if, instead of betting money, we bet other things?”

“Such as?” Sam asked skeptically, though you could tell he was intrigued.

“Bragging rights?” Clint asked, excitedly.

“Yeah that, or,” Tony started and the wicked smirk was back, except this time it made everyone curious, instead of nervous. “We can each bet whatever we want, like chores,” he looked pointedly at Bucky who just shrugged as everyone else laughed, “or dates,” he glanced at you for a second then shifted his eyes away to someone else, and you instantly paled, praying no one else noticed. Or rather that one person in particular hadn’t. “Or food, or personal items, or anything really.” He shrugged.

You peeked around at the others, making a point to avoid looking at Steve, hoping he hadn’t caught Tony’s ‘date’ meaning. To say you had a crush on Steve, was a bit of an understatement. I mean, honestly, who wouldn’t. He was the whole damn package, wrapped up in a soft, sweet, slightly awkward bow. You were sure there was a damn support group in the building for all the women—and men— currently crushing on him. You know, like a ‘We adore Steve Rogers Anonymous’ group, and you’d bet money that Sam was heading that support group with full force, most likely with Coulson happily by his side. The thought made you giggle and you quickly stifled the sound. You heard a snort and flicked your eyes up to see Nat, smirking with a raised brow at you, as if she knew what you were thinking.

Then your eyes drifted to Wanda, who was pointedly attempting not to make eye contact with you and also trying not to laugh, and you instantly realized that she actually knew what you were thinking. Poor thing did try really hard not to read peoples minds, but sometimes it just happened, and you couldn’t fault her for that. She finally locked eyes with you, giving you an apologetic smile, and you just smiled back, reassuringly. It’s not like you hadn’t told her all about your little crush already. She knew all the dirty details.

“Well, I’m in,” Nat said with a shrug, “could be fun.”

Everyone else agreed with her and Tony went to grab a few decks of cards. You did your best not to look too excited but little did they all know you’d grown up watching, and then partaking in, weekly family poker nights. And having 3 older brothers, you’d gotten very competitive and in turn very, very good at this game.

Over the next few hours, everyone was slowly bumped out. You’d all agreed at the beginning on 5 things each, to offer up as bets, and once those 5 things had been won by others, that person was out.

You’d ended up winning a bunch of random things, the main ones of note being; a week of Wanda cooking you dinner, 3 hours with Sam’s Falcon pack, 3 bags of Tony’s blueberries, one of Bucky’s coveted knives and the pièce de résistance, a flask of Thor’s Asgardian mead. All and all, you’d damn near cleaned house, which had caught the others completely off guard. Tony had practically fallen out of his chair when you’d knocked him out of the game, along with Nat and Bucky. Adding them to your casualties list with Wanda and Clint.

But Tony wasn’t the only one who had been caught off guard by someones hidden skills. Turns out Steve was damn near a pro at poker, and him doing so well at this game had managed to surprise you, making you utterly aware that there were, in fact, still things you didn’t know about him. And even though he’d knocked out Bruce, Thor, Vis, Rhodey and Sam, he wasn’t smug or boasting about it. In fact, he was actually eerily silent and impassive the whole game, which was messing with you. A lot. He’d barely mumbled a word since the game started and so now, it was just you and him, the last two left standing, and there were a bunch of things riding on this hand.

Both of you only had one item of your own left to bet, making this the final round. Your bet was one you were not wanting to part with, but if anyone was going to win them, you were happy it was Steve. He’d appreciate them the way they should be, and you’d maybe be able to talk him into letting you borrow them from time to time. ‘Them’ being your 5 favourite Disney movies, which were all currently in the stupid Disney vault, so you’d have a hard time replacing them. But it was doable, for sure. Just might cost you an arm and a leg.

And Steve's bet was one of his sketchbooks, whichever one the winner wanted— And you wanted that damn sketchbook, plus your Disney movies. So you needed to win this damn hand.

So here you were, trying to read his blank expression, waiting to see if he would fold and let you take the win, or if he’d raise you one of his acquired items. And then it would have to goto the actual cards, and you weren’t too hopeful your 4 of a kind Jacks would hold up. All he needed was a royal flush, a straight flush, or a higher set of 4 to take it.

So you both sat here, silently, and even if your eyes had been closed, you’d have been able to feel his drilling into you. He was just staring at you, probably looking for any subtle hints from your body language or features, but you weren’t giving him a damn thing. This was the exact same treatment your oldest brother, Tyler, would give you during intense games. So you were used to it—slightly, I mean, you obviously don’t have a raging crush on your brother, and his eyes on you definitely didn’t make you feel this way. And there was just something about Steve openly staring at you. You wished it was him ogling you, but at the same time you’d take whatever you could get. No complaints about it.

You were also acutely aware of the other sets of eyes on you as well. The ones shifting between Steve and yourself, as if waiting for one of you to crack. But you refused to give them that satisfaction.

So instead, you took this opportunity to just look at him. And I mean, really look at him. Because, my god, he was just so damn attractive. From his blonde hair, to his blue eyes, to his chiseled jaw and plump lips. Oh god, the things you wanted to do to this man. The things you dreamed about doing. In a perfect world, you’d get to do them all, you’d get to call him your own and love him for exactly the man he is.

Captain America, who? I’m sorry, I don’t know her... But Steve Rogers, now him you knew, fully. Maybe not as well as Bucky, but pretty damn close.

When you’d joined the Avengers, 4 years back, just before the Chitauri attacked. You’d been thrusted into battle when it all went down, which you weren’t entirely ready for, but there really wasn’t any other options. It was all hands on deck. However, looking back on it now, you’re glad you were, because it was why you and Steve had bonded instantly. He had your back out there, just as you had his.

You’d been struggling to focus on fighting the Chitauri, as you were a few yards away from a rather large distraction. A tall, muscular super soldier that you had so much respect for, and fighting alongside him only made that respect grow, ten fold. Seeing him in action first hand was such a thrill. Such a rush. And you kept having to remind yourself that you were in the middle of an invasion, and you couldn’t just stand there and watch Steve Rogers fight. Regardless of how entrancing that was.

Buuuuuut maybe you should have been a little more firm with yourself on that, since you were almost crushed by a few floors of a building, one that clearly decided it no longer wanted to stay standing. But, Steve, being the hero he always was, swooped in and saved your ass at the last second. And from then on, you stuck close to him, had his back just as he had yours.

And now, years later, you were both like a well oiled machine. Both your skills playing perfectly off each other, so much so that neither of you ever went on missions without the other, it was just too risky as you’d both grown so accustomed to the other being there. Some might say it was a weak spot, but you’d just ignore them. What did they know anyways? Your only weakness was not having Steve by your side.

So it goes without saying that it didn’t take long for the crush to form—it may have always been there in some capacity though, but that was more an infatuation with the man, the legend, that was Steve Rogers AKA Captain America.

However, once you got to know Steve, like really know him, inside and out, that infatuation shifted to sheer adoration for him. For everything he was, and wasn’t. For everything he’d been and would be. It wasn’t about his hero title anymore, it was just about him. The man behind the mask and shield.

So yeah, you totally had a crush on Steve Rogers, but could anyone really blame you?—

Your eyes quickly snapped down at a movement on his face, and you watched as the corner of his lips twitched, just slightly. Then your eyes flicked up to his and locked on. And instantly you realized the impassive front was gone, there was now a few different emotions swimming in his eyes. You couldn’t make them all out, but mischief was definitely one of them, you knew that look in his eyes all too well. So that mixed with a slight knowing look, both combined to make your heart rate pick up and your stomach to do back flips. What did he know, that you didn’t? Oh god, what does he know?!

“I fold,” he said softly as he put his cards face down on the table and slid them off to the side. Right into the muck pile, effectively making it impossible for anyone to check what his cards had been.

“What?” Tony gaped, wide eyed at Steve, “you’re folding after all of that?!”

“Steve, man,” Sam groaned, “you’re seriously going to end it like that?”

“I can’t believe this,” Clint mumbled and glanced around at the others, “we’ve been sitting here for hours and that’s the finish we get?!”

“They’ve only been playing this hand for 25 minutes.” Nat says back with an eye roll.

“But it’s felt like hours,” Clint crosses his arms and pouts, “I feel like we got ripped off here.”

“Wait, what did he have?” Wanda asks the group. Clearly confused by how folding works.

“We will never know,” Bucky sighs and shakes his head.

You quickly push your cards face down into the muck pile as well, before anyone can think to ask what you had. Though Thor does ask anyways, “Lady Y/N, what was your winning hand?”

You smirk at Steve, receiving one in return and then you both stand from the table, “That’s for me to know, and you to think about, big guy.” You pat his arm, comfortingly. And then make your way over to Steve to shake his hand, thanking him for a good game.

As you do, Steve leans in and whispers, “Shall we go pick out your sketchbook?”

You grin up at him and nod your head enthusiastically, “Yes, let’s!”

You both walk out of the room, hearing everyone still complaining about how it all ended, and Tony frantically trying to figure out which cards Steve and you had, while he has FRIDAY crunching the card and number probabilities.

You both laugh as you make your way towards Steve’s room, and once you’re out of earshot of the others you lean in, “so, can I ask what you had?”

He side eyes you and you don’t miss the grin on his lips, “I had a royal flush.”

You halt your steps and damn near yell, “what?!” before quickly looking around and lowering your voice to an incredulous whisper, “then why did you fold?”

He stops and turns to you, then just shrugs, “I couldn’t take your movies from you. I know how much you love them.”

“Wow, thats,” you pause, just staring up at this big, beautiful sweetheart, “really thoughtful of you, Steve. Thank you.”

He gives you a glorious smile, “don’t mention it.” Then he starts to walk again, and you quickly fall into step with him.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I had?” You question, curiously.

“No,” he shakes his head, “I know you had 4 of a kind.”

“How did you—jesus, what are you, like a professional card counter or something?”

“Eidetic memory,” he taps his temple, and smirks at you, “plus I played a lot back in the 40’s.”

“Damn,” you mumble, more to yourself, “and here I thought I was the one hiding my master skills.”

“Oh trust me, you were one of the harder opponents I’ve ever had, so don’t feel too bad about it.” He stops walking as you both reach his door.

“Well that’s reassuring at least,” you nod.

He opens his door and ushers you into his room, then shuts it. He wanders over to his desk and searches the top and drawers for his sketchbooks, “now I know the deal was you get to pick the book, but would you be okay with us amending that just a little?”

“In what way?” You ask.

He glances over his shoulder at you, “Would you be okay if I, maybe, picked the book for you?”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” You nod.

“Perfect,” he smiles then moves to his bookshelf, clearly searching for a specific one, which he seems to be having some troubles finding. He stands in front of the bookshelf, scratching the side of his head in thought and then as if he has an epiphany, he quickly turns and walks over towards his bed. Opening the top drawer of his bedside table and pulling a book out, mumbling, “there you are.”

He walks back over to you, and you notice that he now looks extremely hesitant, unsure. Which is a different look for him, one you’ve barely ever seen on him before. That only causes your mind to race with the possibilities of why he’d be nervous about this. It was just a sketchbook, wasn’t it?

“Ah,” his eyes shift down to the ground and he rubs the back of his neck, “so I should probably warn you before I give you this,” his eyes snap up to yours and he holds the book out to you, “so, ah, don’t be alarmed.”

“Okay,” you slowly say as you take it from him, pressing the still closed book to your chest as you walk over to his bed, then plop yourself down on the end. He just stays standing near the door, watching, waiting. Which only makes your heart rate skyrocket as to what exactly you’re about to see. What could be in this book that is causing him to act so out of character.

Your fingers gently brush the worn, and well loved, brown leather cover and then you slowly flip it open to the first page.

And you are instantly positive that you’ve died. Yup, you’re dead. You have to be. That is the only explanation your mind can think up for what you are currently looking at. You flip to the next page, then the next, and the next, and so on for a few more pages, before your eyes snap up to meet Steve’s clearly anxious ones.

“There all,” you clear your throat then glance back down at the sketchbook again, running your fingers over the sketch currently showing, and whispering, “there all of me?”

“Yeah, I ah, I find it,” he pauses and you peek up at him, seeing him now blushing and shifting his weight from foot to foot.

“Find it?” You coax, gently.

He takes a deep breath, “I find it comforting to draw you. After a hard mission, I mean.” He pauses then adds quickly, “Or really at any time. You just—there is just something about you that calms me. Relaxes me, I guess.”

You close the sketchbook and gently place it on the bed as you stand, then take the few short steps so that you’re standing in front of him now, “I calm you?”

He nods then locks eyes with you, “yeah, you ah, you always have.”

“So you draw me when..?” You trail off then add, “Like when you’re upset, or?”

“Not just upset, I mean, drawing you does help when I am. But I also draw you when I’m happy, or bored.” He shrugs.

“Huh,” you reply, thoughtfully, “why?”

“Why?” He repeats back, pretending to be confused. But you know him well enough to see right through that.

“Yeah,” you nod, “why do you draw me, specifically? Or do you have books for the others as well?”

“Not full books, no.”

“So I’m the only full book?” You wonder aloud.

“Yep.”

“So then, why?” You ask quietly as you take a small step towards him, now only inches away from him.

“Ah, because I,” He takes another deep breath, “I adore you, Y/N. I always have. And I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. Not this deeply, at least.”

You smile up at him, a real genuine smile, because holy shit. Is this all really happening right now? Is he really saying all these things to you? My god, maybe you have actually died and gone to heaven. “I adore you too.”

“You do?” He asks, buoyantly.

You nod, “I do.”

And then you see the confident Steve resurface, as if he hadn’t gone anywhere, and a smirk breaks out on his handsome face, as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into him, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

“Okay, deal.” You giggle out just before he leans in and silences you with his lips. You know, the ones you’ve been dreaming about kissing for years. Yeah, those ones.

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

Bonus:

You and Steve finally part from the most amazing kiss you’ve ever had, leaving you both a little dazed and confused. But that doesn’t last long because this is the tower after all.

“Tony would like me to inform you both of his congratulations,” FRIDAY’s familiar lilt echoes through Steve’s room, “and to play this recording for you both.”

And then you hear Tony’s voice speak up, “that took you both long enough. What was that, 4 years of mutual pining? Damn, I haven’t even had relationships that lasted that long.” A pause then Tony’s recording continues, “oh and also, I figured out both your hands. And I never took you as someone who would forfeit, Capsicle. I’m disappointed in you.”

Then the room goes silent once again.

“He is never going to get me live that down now,” Steve groans as he scraps a hand down his face, and you burst out laughing.

“No, no he is not—“ you start but then a finger gently pokes your ribs, right where you’re ticklish spot is, causing you to flinch away from it and giggle.

“That’s enough outta you, missy,” he jokes as he leans down to kiss you again, effectively preventing any retort you were about to make. But my god, you could really get used to this. And from the looks of it, that just might be what’s in the cards for you both.

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

Not sure if you all want to be tagged in this or not, but figured I’d tag ya’ll just in case. @hopefulmoonobject @itsstillnotwhatyouthink @tessvillegas @boxofteenageideas @wangdeasang @giggleberts @casuallydarktiger @theonelittleone @agentbadbitch @ratwrites @starrystellars @bandsandanimefreak

[mentalmimosa]

must have been magic

Prompt: Love spell

Everything’s fine until Steve starts taking off his clothes.

Ok, everything’s not fine, technically: Tony’s hoarse from yelling and Steve is the color of beets and anyone in the vicinity who didn’t know they were pissed at each other, have been since the Quinjet swept in and plucked them out of the Albanian wilderness, well--let’s just say there’s not anyone like that left.

They’re in the briefing room near the hanger because Tony was trying to act like a professional and not ream Steve the second they stepped off the plane. They’ve got new kids on the block now, Ant Man and Spidey and that take-no-shit Wasp, so it would be nice to, you know, pretend like they have their shit together as a team. As far as Tony’s concerned, screaming at Steve (and vice versa) is what keeps said shit in one piece; they’ve tried the not talking and not communicating thing and boy howdy, did that fuck them up. So they talk about their disagreements now, albeit in raised voices (Steve) and flailing arms (Tony), but they try not to do it in mixed company. Key word: try.

But sometimes Steve is just too puritanical for Tony to stomach all the way back to base, so today’s contretemps had started in furious whispers at the back of the plane and smouldered until they were wheels down and then and only then had Tony poked Captain Self-Righteous in the chest and hissed: “You, me, briefing room. Right the fuck now!”

Which had only made Steve madder, of course.

“I don’t appreciate being ordered around, Tony,” he barks the second the door to the briefing room closes.

“Yeah. Sucks, don’t it? Maybe you should have thought of that before you pulled an audible in the middle of an op, Cap!”

“What we were doing wasn’t working! A new strategy was called for!”

“I’m sorry, who was on point today?”

Steve flips off his helmet and chucks it on the table. “You were.”

“Yep. So instead of calling for the ball yourself, Namath, maybe you should have, oh, I don’t know, given me a heads up and made a recommendation?”

“Recommendation? Get real, Tony. When’s the last time you listened to one of those?” Steve snorts and unbuckles his harness, shrugged out of his shield. “Correction, when’s the last time you didn’t take great delight in ignoring one, huh?”

“I see, so you’re a mindreader now, is that it?”

“No, you’re just goddamn predictable, that’s all.”

“I’m predictable? You’re the one who’s always preaching teamwork and collaboration, and yet the second a thing doesn’t go the way you want it, you reach right over and grab the stick!”

Steve reaches for the catch in his armor. “Teamwork goes both ways, you know. Sometimes teamwork means recognizing that I know better.”

“That you--!”

There were more words coming, more that Tony had lined up to follow, but it’s hard to talk suddenly, what with the armor falling and Steve peeling and then him standing there not three feet from Tony no longer wearing a, uh. A shirt.

It’s not like Tony’s never seen the All-American six pack before, even once or twice in close quarters, but usually there were knives involved or evildoers of some sort, so he’d never had a chance to study Le Rogers without the fear of rapidly approaching death and holy god, he thought, goggled, that was probably good. Because for all his pig-headedness, for all of his incredible ability to rub Tony the wrong way, Steve’s gorgeous in the way that the sun is bright, you know? Fundamentally, thoroughly, blindingly. Throw in the helmet-mussed hair and the red cheeks of indignation and the whole package gets Tony thinking in the color of swoon.

And then the man starts futzing with his pants.

“Um,” Tony says weakly. “Cap? What the hell are you doing?”

Steve looks up at him, wide-eyed, and now that his pissiness had taken a backseat, Tony could see what he hadn’t before: there was a weird fire in Steve’s eyes, some shit that made the blue blue, and what had looked like pink cheeks was actually general aura of flush from Steve’s hairline over the hills and valleys of his chest down to the line of his--

“I’m hot,” Steve says petulantly as he--yep, oh god, yep--peels the suit from his legs and unfastens his boots. “Always get hot when we argue, Tony.”

Ok, that’s a sentence to unpack another day. A day when Tony’s not standing across from Steve Rogers wearing nothing but a very (very) tight pair of shorts. Shit.

“Sure,” he says, aiming for something blase, “but you don’t usually lose your kit because of it.”

“Oh, but I do. After it’s over, though. I go back to my quarters and strip off and get a hand on myself.” A long-lashed flutter. "Think about you.”

If Tony was a good man, a noble one like the blond stalwart in front of him, he’d leave right then. Splutter something, wave his arms a bit, and run off for the hills.

But he’s not noble and he’s not good, so far as Steve Rogers is concerned. He’s always wanted. Always, from day, nay hour one. He’s never let himself follow that particular thought any farther than his right hand and a very long, hot shower. They’re teammates, he and Cap. On a good day, they’re friends.

All the more reason he should be calling for a doc, a detox, something, but clearly Steve is straight up out of his mind: hoodoo’d or whammied or drunk or shellshocked or catastrophically high--but also hard, jesus fuck, is he. Hard and moving towards him, reaching for him, purring in this beautiful, uber un-Rogers way.

“I’m so hot,” he says again. This time the words fall over Tony’s face. “Feel like I’m burning up, Tone. Need your hands on me. See?”

And then he’s tugging at Tony’s wrists and planting Tony’s palms on his hip and his chest and Tony is weak, Tony is greedy, Tony suddenly wants him so bad .

If he was a good man, the kind they make star-spangled movies about, he wouldn’t turn his face to meet Steve’s. He wouldn’t open his mouth. He wouldn’t stroke every inch of skin he could reach and lap up Steve’s orchestra of needy sounds. He wouldn’t moan when Steve’s hands catch his ass and squeeze just this side of too hard.

“Yeah?” Steve whispers against his lips. “You’re hot too, aren’t you?”

The air feels like it’s imploding, each drop of oxygen its own pool of heat, and Tony’s drowning in each and every one. “Oh, fuck.”

“Mmmm. Please.”

Later, what happens next will be a flurry, a cross-cut set of Polaroids that if he thinks about, Tony can’t actually fathom:

His knees on the floor, the smell of Steve’s body, the sound he makes as Tony peels down those impossible briefs;

Steve’s back against the table, his breathing wet and ragged, his hands buried in Tony’s hair;

His palms slipping on slick wood, his forehead pressed to it, the feel of Steve’s tongue in his ass.

And the strongest of them all, the fiercest: Steve’s mouth on his shoulder, his chest ablaze at Tony’s back, the gorgeous, hungry hitch of his hips. His hand is on Tony’s cock and Tony’s clinging to the edge of the table and it feels so good to have Steve inside him he wants to fucking scream.

And then he does, because to hell with reason, and he’s coming all over Steve’s fingers, the table, pulse after pulse and he still feels incomplete and then Steve is grunting in his ear, fucking in hard and hard and deep and only when Steve whimpers and lets it all go does the sweet tension in Tony’s body finally release.

It feels like he comes again, another burst of white out on the table, but that can’t be, right? He can’t. It must be the hoodoo, whatever’s infecting Steve--he must have caught some of it, too. But hell, god bless the magic, because it feels so fucking good.

“Oh, god,” Steve moans in his ear, because the bastard’s still coming, apparently. “Oh, fuck, Tony, yes, yes.”

And maybe that does it for him a little, again, too.

The next thing he knows, they’re in a wet heap on the floor, half on top of Tony’s hastily-removed clothes. They’re clinging to each other. It’s a different kind of hot.

“So,” he says when he can speak again, when he wants to, “um, Cap. What the hell was that?”

Steve laughs in his ear, a noise like good whiskey. “If I have to tell you, I must have done something wrong.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be a smart ass. You went all weird stripper Barbie on me!”

“Stripper Barbie--?”

“Were you whammied or something? Did you pick a funny-looking flower while we were out there? That’s some serious Fairy Tale country out that way, you know. Lots of the big myths and stuff got started out there.”

Steve’s arms go tighter. “You’re babbling.”

“I’m not babbling, Rogers, I’m deducting. Er, I’m trying to figure this out.”

“What is the this, again?”

“Steve, you threw yourself at me. I touch myself when I think about you? I mean, that was some pure Skinemax shit.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

God, he’s infuriating. But it’s a lot harder to be mad when he’s naked. “Um, I always get hot when we argue, Tony? That isn’t you.”

“Hmmm. So you thought I was under the influence of something?”

Yeah, like a love spell, you know. I thought maybe you ate an enchanted mushroom. Forgot to each lunch before the smashy smashy and so picked a vegan snack on the go, you know.”

Steve bites at his throat, very gently. Laps at it a little. Says: “You thought I was high on magic and/or a mushroom and you had sex with me anyway?”

Shit shit shit. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I did.” Tony’s head does a double take. “Wait. Does that mean you weren’t ?”

“Mmmmm.” Tony can practically feel the smug. “No. Believe it or not, that was all me.”

“Well, all you is very cheesy, Rogers. Also not fucking subtle at all.”

Steve’s hips rock against his ass. “I wasn’t feeling subtle,” he growls. “Sometimes I hate subtle. Sometimes I think the only thing you understand is a shield upside the head--and believe me, I’ve been tempted.”

“So you thought you’d whip your dick out in the middle of an argument and I’d just, what, fall to my knees?”

“Isn’t that what happened?” Steve chuckles. “Except, as I recall, you’re the one who actually whipped it out.”

“But--” Tony’s brain is still not in full gear; not helping that blood’s rushing back merrily towards his dick. “But I--I don’t know if you noticed, Ron Jeremy, but there were some things happening with me that haven’t happened since I was 15.”

Steve sighs, a full on-luxury sound that Tony would like to sink into, thanks. “Oh, hell. Did I make you come more than once, Tone? It felt like it, but I wasn’t sure.”

“Apparently.”

“Uh huh. So let me get this straight: you came so hard on my cock that it must have been magic, is that it?”

“I hate you.”

“You want me.” Long fingers tumble over his hip, tease. “You’d take me again right now, if I wanted.”

Not even a question. “Hell yes.”

“Here, on the floor. Desperate, like a couple of kids whose parents aren't home."

“You like the idea of sneaking around, Cap? And here I took you for the candlelight and silk sheets type.”

“I like that too. But you have no idea how many times I’ve been stuck in one of your damn briefings and spent the whole time daydreaming about what it would be like to shut you up with my tongue.”

“Or your cock.”

A growl, a fist around Tony’s dick. “Yeah. That, too.”

Tony’s head falls back. “So next time you’re in here, tired of listening to me talk, you can think about this instead. About dirting me up and then tossing me on the carpet and having your way with me again.”

“My way with you? Now who’s cheesy?”

“Steve.”

“Yes, Tony?”

“Shut up and fuck me again."

[sleepyfan-blog]

Angry Dream

Fandom: Undertale multiverse AU

First in the series here. last here

characters and pairing: Horror!Sans, Dust!Sans, Killer!Sans, Nightmare, Dream, Dreammare

warnings: cursing, fighting

word count: 3,698

Summary: Dream finds Nightmare and they have a shouting match.

Dream felt a little bit guilty as he glances back at Sci - who’s passed out on the exam table he’d carefully put him on. But the younger skeleton would have continued to ask questions about Nightmare and… Quite possibly either called Ink or tried to follow him through the portal and… The positive spirit didn’t want anyone else exposed to the powerful and dangerous fallen guardian of negativity. His home timeline looked just as desolate and miserable as the last time he’d been here - frantically fleeing from his other half, so as to avoid getting turned into stone for another thousand stars-damned years… Or worse. Dream stared mournfully at the twisted, dead remains of the tree of feelings before mentally shaking himself. He had to find Nightmare if he was going to get better.

He turned to where the other very likely was - the tall, imposing castle that loomed threateningly in the distance and grimaced. Due to the low positivity that this AU had, he didn’t have much access to his magic - and he was still being drained of magic due to the fact that they apparently weren’t supposed to be apart from one another for a long time. Dream supposed that made sense. As they’d been created to guard an immobile tree in the middle of a largely peaceful universe. He grabbed a handful of monster candy and ate them, feeling a little bit of magical energy return to him. Sighing and trying to suppress his rising irritation and desire to just flee from the situation and damn the consequences (if he was getting weaker, surely that meant that Nightmare was too… Which was probably a good thing?), Dream teleported as close as he can to the castle. There are wards preventing people from trying to enter or leave the castle unless their magic is coded to be permitted to do so - which Dream’s isn’t.

Dream walks up to the unguarded front gates, pushing one of the large wooden doors open - sighing a little as it squeaked in a way that, were one prone to being jumpy and skittish - it would be seen as terrifying. He was pretty sure that Nightmare had tried to engineer this place to be as intimidating and spooky as possible to the hapless beings who were forced to make the trek up here. The winding path that led up to this place was littered with ominous signs of Suffering and Misery. Overdramatic asshole. He was pretty sure that at least one of the Dark Papyri guards had spotted him - not that he’d seen any of them patrolling the battlements, but as he wasn’t even trying to be the least bit sneaky - he… Needed Nightmare’s attention, apparently, according to Sci. He could distantly sense Nightmare and he was starting to feel a bit better. Stars damn it all, Sci had been right. Then again, as far as Dream could tell, the younger skeleton had no reason whatsoever to lie to him.

He walked confidently through the dimly lit hallways, his head held high and back straight - doing his best to project a sense of purposeful calm, despite wanting to be literally anywhere else in the entire multiverse. Nightmare was probably on that ridiculous throne of his, surrounded by skulls and generally being a terrifying  ass. Maybe he had mortals brought up from one of the scattered and small villages to beg for their lives for his own amusement… Again. Because he could sense non-Papyri and not-Nightmare beings in the castle, though his ability to sense others was much diminished due to the low-positivity of this world.

There were four dark Papyri guarding the door to the throne room, and they tensed up in visible surprise when he came marching into view. One of the two on the left shifted the pike that he was wielding and called out “Halt! His Darkness is currently meeting with other beings at the moment. State your name and business.”

Dream sighed and summoned his staff, twirling it idly in front of him, despite how much energy it had taken him to do so - knowing that the purposeful spike in his magic should catch Nightmare’s attention “I am Dream, guardian of Positivity. You will let me past, I need to talk to Nightmare. I don’t care who he’s terrorizing for energy, this is important.”

“His Darkness will not take kindly to someone just bursting in and demanding his attention. Least of all someone claiming to be his opposite.” The Dark Papyrus who had spoken earlier stated, shifting into a more battle-ready position. “He is in the middle of an important meeting, and-”

Dream sighed before transforming his staff into the bow that he used, notching an arrow and pulling it and the string back, levelling it at the other, saying “It doesn’t really matter what you think needs to be done. Either let me in or I will pin you by your souls to the wall and enter myself. It won’t kill you, but it will keep you trapped there for a couple of hours, which is how long it will take for the magic to dissipate. I’m not here to fight or to challenge this dark king of yours.” And he wasn’t. The very thought of trying to actually fight Nightmare sent a cold shiver down his spine. Dream had no idea if he was actually capable of doing so. “I…” He lowers his bow a little, the effort of keeping it summoned and one of his positive arrows intact taking more magic than it should. After a moment both bow and arrow flickered out of existence and he fumbled for a glamburger, directly absorbing the magic with his hands as he fought to stay conscious swaying a little.

He was not going to pass out in Nightmare’s castle and wake up in a cell somewhere, or laid out on a bed, like some sort of delicate creature, stars damn it! He was every bit the fighter that his other half was, despite everything… And the helpful healer persona that he cultivated with Ink and his collection of mortal allies. He was going to face Nightmare on his own two feet… Righteous anger filled him as he thought back on everything that had happened between the two of them and he slammed through the door - noticing that stupid ominous squeak again, even as the Dark Papyri flailed and failed to grab him. He charged through the large, spacious place, noting that there were three beings standing in front of Nightmare, each in different blue hoodies. Were they Sanses? That was irrelevant right now - though one of them seemed to have a giant crack in his skull.

Nightmare was sitting on his throne, lounging casually (having absolutely no right to look that content or stupidly handsome) saying “-and he looks…” The other trailed off, staring at Dream, tilting his head a little in surprise “Like the person behind you. Hello Dream, is there a particular reason why you’re here?” There was a knowing smirk on the other’s face, and surprised delight in the other’s aura.

The three beings standing in front of him turned - and yep, they were Sanses alright, although Dream didn’t recognize which AUs they were from. They looked startled and confused. The one with the crack in his head asked “Err… Boss, what do you want us to do?”

Before Nightmare could respond, Dream ran over to the other, yelling “YOU INSUFFERABLE, SMUG ASSHOLE. I BET YOU KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN, DIDN’T YOU?” He was glaring up at Nightmare, at the foot of the other’s throne - the raised dais it was on making it so that he would have to clamber up there to better shout in Nightmare’s face.

His darker half sighed, and first instructed his Sans minions (since when did he have Sanses?) “You three are dismissed - inform the dark Papyri guards that they are to leave this area as well. The two of us have a great deal to speak about and Dream isn’t likely to stop yelling any time soon. He’s rather unreasonable like that.”

“I’M THE UNREASONABLE ONE?! YOU TURNED ME TO STONE AND MURDERED ALMOST EVERYONE IN OUR TIMELINE, YOU- shit.” Dream hissed, rolling to avoid one of Nightmare’s tentacles as he swiped at him, having to focus on dodging the other’s attacks rather than shout at him. He was furious that he needed the other, despite all that had happened between the two of them. And he was also desperately trying to figure out if he was better enough to take a portal out of this AU if Nightmare didn’t catch him first.

“Yes boss.” The Sans with a crack in his skull responded, turning and starting to walk off.

The other two Sanses hesitated for a moment, one of them - with strange black marks on his face - drew a pair of knives from somewhere and called out “Aww… Boss, are you sure you don’t want a hand? He looks like he could be so much fun to play with.”

“Killer, leave.” Nightmare growled, his cyan eye light glowing brightly as he glared down at the other.

The three Sanses left - mostly because the injured Sans dragged both of the other two - who were shorter - grumbling “Boss said to leave, and I’m pretty sure we don’t want to get involved in this bullshit.” The other two protested a little, but didn’t seem to mind being carried off like that. The throne room doors swung shut with a dull, echoing thud.

Nightmare stopped trying to attack him with his tentacles as soon as they left, and arched a browbone at him “I am curious - I thought you decided to run away from me permanently.” Was… Was that a bit of hurt that Dream could sense in the other’s aura?

That did not make the guilt that he was feeling any better. The wrath and frustration were easier to feel and Dream hissed, livid “I only ran because you were trying to hurt me! What was I supposed to do let you turn me to stone again?”

“What, so you decided to abandon me? Then again, I shouldn’t have been surprised by that. I was never high on your list of priorities. You were so enamored by your many mortal fans who fawned over your every word and movement to ever care about what they might be doing to me.” Nightmare growled back, glaring down at him. “I’m curious as to why you’ve come back. Clearly it’s not to ask forgiveness for all you’ve done to wrong me.”

The positive spirit froze for a couple of seconds, guilt and fury warring inside of him. Of course he regretted some of the things that he’d done in the past. Of course he wished that he’d been able to save Nightmare from falling - that he had realized what the villagers were doing to him. But Nightmare had always denied that someone was hurting him - that he had just been clumsy, or had been reading while walking and smacked into something. Dream’s voice was slightly quieter, but still intense as he half-yelled “I tried to get you to talk to me about what was going on! You never told me - you always lied or avoided the subject and me for days at a time! Do you have any idea how much pressure I was under, trying to deal with all of the attention and expectations they had for me? That if I tried to pull away from them, they clung more desperately to me? I… I didn’t know it at the time, but the… The villagers had grown… Ad-Addicted to my presence. I was trying to get them b-back off a little and you were pulling more and more away from me, no matter what I tried to do to reach you! Don’t you fucking dare blame all of what happened on me…N-Not when I-I…” Dream stopped yelling, feeling something warm and wet drip down his cheekbones. He raised a shaking hand to his face and realized that he was crying. Shit.

“Not when you what, Dream?” Nightmare hissed back, his aura darkening as his tentacles started to reach for the positive spirit again “Do you blame yourself for what happened? You should, at least in part. Had you ever actually proven to me that you wouldn’t wander off as soon as things got tough or I wasn’t as pleasant as you wanted me, scampering off to your mortal worshippers, I might have told you what was really going on. Not that you would have been able to do much other than to cry at them to please stop hurting him without doing anything real to get them to stop.”

Dream flinched and took a couple of steps backwards, staring at Nightmare, feeling as if the other had physically struck him “I… I don’t… Do you r-really think that if you… You’d confided in me what they were don’t that I… I wouldn’t have actually done anything to stop them from abusing you?” His voice was barely a whisper and the tears that he’d been struggling to stop fell faster and harder. Dream felt his knees go weak and he fell forwards a little, staring blankly up at Nightmare. He… He couldn’t have been such a flighty and inconsiderate mate, could he? No - no no no. The other was trying to manipulate him into giving into his guilt and shame for failing the other. He had to stay angry “How-How fucking dare you accuse me of that!” Dream hissed, managing to wipe the tears from his face as he forced himself to stand as he glared at Nightmare, wanting an answer. His voice was starting to go out on him a little, and he tried to clear his nonexistent throat a little.

“No, because at the time I thought you to be too gentle, too delicate to be exposed to the darker nature of the beings around us. I was trying to protect you from the true cruelty that they were capable of.” Nightmare growled out, glaring a little “Did you know that I didn’t start eating the apples until after they struck you? I had hoped up until that point that your connection with them might be enough to get them to stop. Once one of them hit you with enough force to send you to the ground I knew that they were going to kill us - not that they would know that killing me would take your life as well. I was desperate and filled with the desire to protect us both when I consumed those cursed fruit. I dealt with the threat against us, and how do you repay me? You ate the last golden apple and tried to attack me.”

“I… I didn’t… I w-wasn’t… You were killing everyone! Including the beings who were trying to run away! I… I had to try to st-stop you, to c-calm you down! Not that it worked because you turned me to stone and murdered almost everyone in our timeline!” Dream hissed, coughing a little as he glares at the other challengingly.

“They weren’t just running away. They were going to rouse another, larger mob. They were going to try to take you from me and kill us both!” Nightmare hisses, his tentacles lashing out at Dream at high speed as he growls.

Dream manages to dodge most of his tentacles, gasping in shock as it wrapped itself around his waist and yanked him into the other’s lap, struggling in the other’s grip as he hissed, his voice mostly gone “Let… Me… Go!” He didn’t want to escalate the situation by using his magic… Or actually hurt Nightmare so he just struggled in the other’s implacable grasp.

“No! You’ve finally come home to me, and I’m not going to let you go!” Nightmare growled, his voice much quieter than before - and not because he wanted it to be, if the frustration in his aura was anything to go by.

The positive spirit growled back, his golden eye lights burning brightly with irritation as he suddenly leaned closer, aggressively kissing the other’s teeth, his arms wrapping around the other’s neck  and shoulders in order to bring him closer.

Nightmare kissed him back just as aggressively, his arms wrapping around his waist, his tentacles wrapping around Dream’s arms and legs, in order to pin the other in place. The lighter guardian was currently straddling his lap, and there was no way in hell that the king of darkness was going to allow the other to move any time soon.

Surprise flared from behind the door, and both of the emotive guardians shifted a little, noting for the first time that there were three slivers of eye lights peering at them through a crack in the door. Dream blushed a bright gold, but shifted a little in his other half’s lap and grip, leaning further into Nightmare, having no intention whatsoever on moving anytime soon.

Nightmare’s voice was pleasantly rough - causing Dream to shiver a little in anticipation - as he called out “I am going to give you three ten seconds to leave, or the consequences of you all watching my… Argument with my mate with be severe.” The eye lights vanished and they could hear the scrambling footsteps of three people trying to run as fast as they could while also running into two others.

Dream frowned and poked one of Nightmare’s shoulders firmly, shaking his head a little. He tried to speak, but could only manage out a creaky “NIightmArE!” before his voice completely gave out on him. He felt himself blush again and decided that kissing Nightmare would be punishment enough for being rude.

The fallen guardian chuckled softly, pulling away from Dream enough to ask - his breath warm against Dream’s lips “Hmm? Yes? What is it, darling? Unless of course, you’ve managed to yell yourself hoarse.” He teased, though he could feel his own voice starting to give out on him.

The positive spirit pouted up at Nightmare a little, huffed and nodded a little before leaning in closer and lightly nipping one of the other’s cervical vertebrae in vengeance for the teasing, causing the other to startle a little. Dream grinned a little and pulled back, smirking at the other, pleased with himself.

Nightmare’s visible eye lights brightened a little as a smirk of his own appeared on his face. One of his hands slowly trailed up Dream’s body, causing the other to shiver and squirm a little in wanting anticipation until he was cupping one of Dream’s cheeks “Well… If you want to play things that way, I suggest that we go somewhere a bit more comfortable than my throne room to continue this. Unless  you like the idea of the two of us becoming close again here? I wouldn’t be opposed to that, though I suppose I shouldn’t be so surprised. You always were shameless when giving affection.”

Dream let out a squeak of protest and lightly poked Nightmare’s chest, glaring and pressing a little bit closer to other, leaving another couple of light nips against the other’s neck, managing to get himself to say “Bed, please?” though he was unable to say much more. Was Nightmare really so much more powerful than he was that he hadn’t noticed the MP loss, and the lower energy levels? It would be something to talk about once he was able to talk in more than a squeaky whisper.

Nightmare nodded, the smirk on his face turning into a wanting smile and he teleported the both of them to his bedroom, pressing more kisses to Dream’s teeth and face. He carefully set Dream down on his feet and the two of them rushed to the bed, unable to keep their hands off of each other, grinning wildly as they pressed close, kissing and touching.

~

Hours later, while the both of them rested after reconnecting with one another, their limbs tangled around one another, Nightmare asked quietly, his face carefully neutral - though there was an undercurrent of nervousness in the other’s aura as he spoke “Are you… Are  you planning on leaving again?” There was the slightest tremble in his voice, not that anyone but Dream would have probably noticed again.

“I… I don’t want to. I want to stay by your side…” Dream answered quietly “It’s all I’ve ever really wanted… And the opportunity to wander across the multiverse.” He really hoped that Nightmare didn’t try to force him to choose between him and the ability to wander. He wasn’t sure he could make that choice and be happy with what he decided.

“I like wandering as well - and as you’ve likely noticed, I’ve acquired a couple of Sanses. Their timelines are… Bleak. In exchange for helping their people, they work for me.”

Dream’s eye lights brighten a little as he shifts closer to the other, asking quietly “What sort of things do you have them do? How do you help their timelines? Wait…” That meant that Nightmare interfered in the running of other AUs… Which, Dream could understand the temptation of. Ink said that they weren’t supposed to… But why? “I… Sorry, I don’t mean to ask you those sorts of questions while we’re cuddled up together like this, but I… I’ll admit that I’ve been curious as to what you’ve been up to since we’ve been apart.” He yawned a little and nuzzled into Nightmare a little, purring happily. He was pleasantly tired.

Nightmare stretched and yawned a little, the ends of his tentacles curling a little in a way that Dream found incredibly  endearing, and murmured quietly “I promise to explain everything… But perhaps after we’ve rested, darling? Then you can tell me what you’ve been up to as well?”

Dream nodded and snuggled into his beloved, smiling warmly “Sounds… Sounds good to me.” The two of them dropped off to sleep, a blanket draped around the pair of guardians. Neither one of them so much as twitched when Dream’s phone started ringing - and kept ringing - getting messages and phone calls from his friends and allies - including Ink.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

In Red London, a piece of the Isle became pale.

 No one noticed, because the flow of the river was so immense and so lively. Well… one person noticed.

 Delilah Bard, who had accepted only under protest a brand new coat, shirt, pants, and pair of shoes that Rhy had offered her to help her fit in (“you stick out like a man with seven sore thumbs, Miss Bard, please let me help you”), was sulking along the riverbanks wishing for nothing so much as the ability to be there when Kell came to see his brother. No, was allowed to see his brother, like a child or a pet being given a treat for good behavior. 

 She’d kill Holland herself, if Rhy didn’t beat her to him. 

 She was being kept away by Rhy's own insistent order, and Lila hated taking orders, but it was a bit hard to be in the palace if the crown prince ordered her arrested on sight, so she’d gone with only a vulgarity or two in protest. 

The prince that she’d more or less thrown her lot in with had been so desperate to see Kell that he hadn't even argued when Holland had found him alone in a hallway and told him the terms under which he would lay eyes on his brother again. They’d eventually spoken totally alone in Rhy’s bedroom - exactly the way Kell said this whole mess had started in the first place. 

 He could have been killed, but he wasn’t, and somehow the fact that there was no attempt on his life seemed worse. That sneering queen that had worn Rhy’s body like a glove and left a string of dead behind her had won, had Kell in thrall. Plus, she’d stopped trying to kill everyone, which meant… what?

 Was Kell the end goal entirely? Would she stop, if she had two magic-users who did anything she wanted?

 No. There had to be more to it. Lila had heard her, using Rhy’s mouth to say terrible things to Kell and Rhy’s hands to hold the knife, and Lila had known that whatever the bitch was, she was a bitch with a plan.  

 Lila Bard did not appreciate that, because she wanted to be the only bitch in the room with a plan.

 Especially if that plan involved Kell, whose odd mix of childish naivete and old-man judgementalism somehow fascinated her so much she’d followed him across two worlds and finally followed him into a third when he was abducted.

 If Lila had been there when Holland showed back up with a smug smile and one of Kell’s necklaces in his hand to prove they truly had him, the tokens he used to travel between Londons, she’d have cut Holland to ribbons, magic powers or not. She’d have learned what she wanted to know at the edge of a knife. But no, Rhy had insisted they meet Holland’s terms. Kell was a hostage and Rhy wanted to negotiate. It was the dumbest thing she could have possibly imagined he would do.

 Well, other than telling the king and queen, who… Lila was beginning to understand why Kell had kept so much from them.

 But still. Kell’s brother was an idiot, or he was going about things in a way other than the way Lila would have, which in her mind made him as good as an idiot regardless.

 She was furious, and also furiously in denial about how angry she was.

 "It's not like I care," She muttered to herself, kicking at a small cairn of pebbles some child must have built earlier in the day, scattering them into the dirt. "I barely even know him, really. What do I know about him? What do I owe him? I’ve paid him back already for all of it. With interest. Not like he could come after me to collect." 

 She’d sort of hoped he might, though.

The red glow against her skin was warm and comforting, and she felt so much more at home. It was like her own London had never belonged to her, not really. Maybe she had always been meant to end up here, with the docks a constant singsong in her mind, the grand old ships lined up along them like ladies sunning themselves along the beach. She'd already been to visit the docks three or four times in the past week, trying to convince herself to just... step on a ship and go. Kell did not need her, her gun or her knives. He was farther now than she could follow.

 But there he was, no matter what she did, still ringing in her thoughts like a scowling church bell, and she could not get the idea of him forced into serving the very woman who had nearly murdered his brother out of her mind.

 What was Kell’s day like, bowing and scraping and mumbling those ridiculous fancy names that queens and kings gave themselves to someone who had worn your brother’s skin and nearly killed him to capture you? What had it felt like to save Rhy only to damn himself?

 The air around Lila changed. She felt goosebumps raise up along both arms and the hair on the back of her neck stood up.

 She looked up sharply, hand going instinctively to slide a knife out of the hidden holster under the loose fold of her shirt. The scent of flowers seemed suddenly to strengthen until the smell of roses was so cloying it was almost sickening. The air was tense, the way it felt just before rainfall, when the clouds hung low and heavy, and Lila felt certain that any moment she would be drenched by the downpour.

 But the sky was bright and sunny today, and no one around her seemed to feel anything.

 She heard pebbles rattling together and looked down at her feet in the ridiculous new boots that she’d hardly had time to scratch up properly, seeing the rocks along the riverbank moving on their own, shaking back and forth, knocking into each other. She stared, dumbly, completely baffled.

 A flock of birds nearby took off suddenly in a cacophony of noise, and people looked up and pointed, calling out to each other. 

 The whole earth shook and Lila went down onto her hands and knees, splayed out without dignity, scrambling back up to kneel. The ground beneath her shuddered and shifted, as though the entire earth itself had simply decided to move three inches to the left. Lila snarled, digging her fingers into the dirt to hold herself still. What was this? She looked to the side and saw a ripple travel across the surface of the Isle, as though some great monster had broken the surface, only to duck back under. 

 Just as she went to stand, she felt the earth shake again and decided it was better to stay down until it seemed to be over. (click the link for the rest)

[winchestergirl23]

Dinner with the Boyfriend

Pairings: Sam x sister, Dean x sister

Word Count: 2k

Summary: The boys insist on having your boyfriend over for dinner.

A/N: This is kind of a part 2 to Uh-Oh. You can read it here. This can also be read as a stand-alone. Also, I don’t own any of the gifs - credits to whoever made them. Thank you guys for all the love shown so far. You really keep me going.

Link to Part 3 : Hickey.

You nervously run a hand through your hair and straighten your shirt in front of the mirror. The day you’ve been dreading is finally here. You had been trying to avoid this from happening for over a month. But you’d known it would happen eventually. You’re brothers weren’t ones to give up easily.

You had been dating someone for the past few months. Last month, your oldest brother, Dean had found out about it. As you’d suspected, he was not pleased. However, after heated exchanges that involved tears and slammed doors followed by deep conversations with you and Sam, he’d finally accepted that you were old enough to date. But this was a very difficult thing for him to come to terms with. Every time you went on a date, he’d have a ton of questions which you would patiently answer followed by many safety instructions and finally a grudging “Fine! You can go now. Be home by 8.” One would think you’re going to fight dragons or something. Not the supernatural kind but the Harry Potter kind. You’d think Dean would stop there. But no! He had been constantly pestering you to invite your boyfriend, Daniel for dinner which you knew was only an excuse for an interrogation. You knew he’d end up grilling Daniel so hard that he’d probably think you weren’t worth the effort and run as far away from you as possible. Unfortunately for you, Sam was with Dean on this one. He’d been very understanding about the whole dating thing and had supported you throughout but he too, felt that it was time for him and Dean to meet Daniel properly.

After a month of making excuses and evading dinner plans, you’d finally given in. Not just because you had started to run out of excuses but also because Dean had started to become increasing grouchy each time you said no and had suggested inviting Daniel himself next time the he came to take you out on a date. So you’d picked a date and convinced Daniel to come home for dinner, not before warning him that your brothers might act a little over protective and that they’d only mean well. You had no idea how you’d get through a dinner involving Dean and your boyfriend. The very thought of it gave you the chills.  

Taking a deep breath, you walk up to the hall where dinner is being set up. You had earlier helped Dean cook while Sam had gone to great lengths to cover up anything that was ‘supernatural’ related. He’d covered up some of the book shelves, covered up any sigils in plain sight and had tried put away all knives and guns including the gun Dean carried, much to your oldest brother’s annoyance.

“What if he’s possessed? Or what if he’s a shifter?”

“Dean, it’s going to be fine. He’s not going to be a monster. You don’t have to carry the gun on you.”

“Yeah well, I’m not willing to take that chance.”

“Dean. Come on! Just give me the gun. You’ll have an angel sword in your jacket anyway.”

They’d bickered over this for some time. Finally, grudgingly Dean had given up the gun. You couldn’t help heave a sigh of relief at this. At least now you could be sure that threatening your boyfriend with a gun would be one of Dean’s plans that wouldn’t actually happen; At least, not tonight. You’d mouthed a silent thank you to Sam who’d nodded at you. He’d done his best at preparing Dean for the dinner; making him promise not to freak your boyfriend out with threats and awkward questions. You had done your best to keep Dean on his happy side the entire week–baking pie at every chance you got, not objecting to his loud music in the impala and even begging Sam to do the same.

You check your watch for what feels like hundredth time, trying to ignore the knots forming in your stomach. You’d gone over all possible scenarios in your head and this had only made you more anxious. You tap your foot nervously as you wait for Daniel to arrive. Your eyes move from Sam who’s calmly sitting at the table to Dean, who’s sipping beer silently, mouth set in a straight line.  You check your watch again when the doorbell rings.

“I’ll get it!” you say, swiftly walking towards the stairs as Dean gets up.

You pause, turn back and whisper with pleading eyes. “Dean. Pleaseee be nice okay?”

He rolls his eyes at you. You stand there, crossing your arms, looking at him sternly.

“Fine. I’ll ‘be nice’” he mocks, imitating you at the last bit, shaking his head at you. “Now go open the door.”

You walk up the stairs and open the bunker door.

“Hey Dan, come in!” you greet, smiling at your boyfriend.

You awkwardly hug him, turning you face the other way when he leans in to give you a kiss. A gesture you’re sure Dean’s eyes wouldn’t have missed.

“You must be David.” Dean greets as you walk down the stairs, “Come on in.”

You frown at Dean from behind your boyfriend as see Sam shakes his head.

“It’s Daniel sir and actually we’ve met before at the café once.” Daniel says calmly, extending a hand towards Dean.

You groan internally and glower at Dean as he ignores Daniel’s hand. Sam rushes in and shakes his hand, trying to dissipate the awkwardness.

“I’m Sam. It’s nice to meet you. We’ve heard so much about you.” He smiles, leading your boyfriend towards the dinner table.

“Your house is amazing!” you hear Daniel say. “I mean, Y/N had told me that it’s a family home that’s been passed on from generations but I had no idea it would be this… cool!” he finishes, looking around the bunker with awe.  

You stand back as they walk towards the hall, pulling Dean’s hand as he starts to follow. You can hear Daniel and Sam conversing about the bunker.  Dean turns with a questioning look.

“Wha-”

“Dee, you promised me you’d be understanding. You promised Sam you’d be nice. I know you want to be intimidating but can you please, pleaseee at least try to be nice?”  you beg, not letting go of Dean’s hand.

He scowls at you and then sighs, “Fine! I’ll treat your boyfriend nicer.”

“Dee-” you start at his half-hearted statement.

“I mean it. I’ll be nice.” he assures.

“Hey, what are you two doing over there?” Sam calls out, noticing that you haven’t joined them.

You walk over to the table and sit beside Daniel, giving him a comforting smile. Dinner goes smoother than you expected. Dean keeps his word, trying to be nicer as he asks your boyfriend about his life and plans after school. Sam keeps the mood light, talking to him like a friend. However, it doesn’t escape your notice that your older brothers are subtly throwing in comments that indicate how over- protective they are of you.  Daniel takes your hand, under the table as you finish up dessert, discussing funny anecdotes from school.

“Y/N/N why don’t you get Daniel some of the pie you made?” Dean suggests innocuously. However, the tone of his voice is a clear indication that it wasn’t a question.

You narrow your eyes at Dean. He doesn’t even like sharing his pie with you and Sam and now he wants you to get it for your boyfriend?

“Uhh… ” you start, knowing something’s up. You feel Daniel tense beside you as the air around the table changes. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Here, I’ll help you” Sam says, standing up and clearing the dishes. You shoot your boyfriend an apologetic look as you follow Sam into the kitchen with the dishes, leaving him with Dean, who has a smug smile on his face.

You drop the plates into the sink and quickly cut out slices of pie, ready to head back to the hall when Sam puts his hand on your shoulder.

“Y/N… Wait! Let’s finish the dishes before heading back.” He says, casually.

“I promise I’ll do the dishes after Dan leaves okay?” you say, moving toward the kitchen door.

“How about we finish it now instead? Come on. I’ll wash the plates, you can dry them.” he says, forcefully taking the plates of pie from you and steering you toward the sink.  Again, his tone indicating that you don’t have a say in this.

“Sam. Why are you stalling?” you ask, frowning at him.

“I’m not stalling.” he responds, starting on the dishes.

“Sammyyyy!” you groan.

“Look, Dean’s just talking to him, man-to-man okay? Nothing you have to worry about.”

“You can’t be serious! Dean’s going to threaten him and you know it. He’s been waiting to do this all night.” You plead with Sam.

“I’ve already spoken to Dean okay? He’s worried about you getting hurt. He just wants to speak to Dan for a bit. Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I’ve told him to be nice.” Sam says. “Now, help me, come on.”

“I’ll feel a lot better if you were out there too.” You say, solemnly. You don’t like the idea of Dean talking to Daniel alone.

“You promise to stay here for a bit?” Sam asks.

“Yes. I’ll actually do the dishes.” You stress.

“Alright. 5- 10 minutes okay?”  Sam says sternly.

You finish the dishes as fast as you can when Sam leaves the kitchen. Finally, you head back to the table, praying that Dean hasn’t gone overboard with the over-protectiveness.

“Where’s the pie?” Dean asks, making a face as you return. You’ve left the plates of pie in the kitchen in your rush to get back here.

“Actually, it’s getting late so I think I’ll leave.” Daniel says, standing up. He looks a little pale.

Your eyes dart from him to Dean, who shrugs nonchalantly, to Sam, who gives you a reassuring nod.

“I’ll walk you out.” you say, taking his hand, throwing Dean a dirty look.

“It was nice meeting you Daniel” Sam says, clapping him on the shoulder.

“You too sir. Thank you for the dinner. It was really good.” He responds, nodding at Dean too.

You walk him out the bunker door, closing it behind you.

“Listen Dan, whatever Dee said to you…. I’m really sorry okay? They get a bit over-protective at times.” you say, nervously.

“A bit huh?” he chuckles anxiously. “It was a little more than a bit but don’t worry, it’s nothing babe.”

“They just told me how much you mean to them and what the consequences of hurting you might be” he says, swallowing tensely. “But don’t worry! I don’t plan on hurting you so it’s all chill.” He smiles, though he still looks kind of spooked.

“Thank you for understanding.” You smile.

He pulls you in for a kiss. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow for school okay?” he says.

“Bye Dan” you say, kissing him again.

You walk back into the bunker smiling to yourself. Tonight’s dinner wasn’t so bad. Dean’s sitting with his feet on the table, eating pie from the pan. There are three empty plates on the table. He grins at you with a mouth full of pie. “I left you a slice” he says, in response to your raised eyebrows.

You wrinkle your nose at him, “You can finish it.”

“Dee… about what happened during dinner…” you start.

“Listen kiddo, I know I’m not the biggest fan of you dating him. He seems like a good kid and I’m trying to be cool about you and him going out. However, you are my baby sister and I don’t want you getting hurt. So I just told him what would happen if he hurt you. I don’t regret doing that and neither does Sam. As your older brothers, there are just some things we have to do. I’m not going to apologize for caring about you.” He states, with a shrug.  

“Okay” you say, frowning a little. “I guess I should be glad you didn’t threaten him with your gun.”

“I still haven’t ruled that out.” he says, in a matter-of-a-fact manner.

“He’s not going to do that kiddo. You have my word.” Sam says, throwing his bitch face at Dean, looking at your alarmed expression. Dean shrugs and starts to laugh.

“I think I’ll turn in now. Good night Dee. Good night Sammy” you say, leaning to kiss your brothers on the cheek.

“Goodnight darling.”

“Sleep well sweetheart!”

Tags: @thetallassgirl hope you don’t mind. Because you requested for a part 2!

[franeridart]

I absolutely adore every single KiriBaku thing you draw. They’re so pure and I love them.

;O; !!!!! thank you holy heck!!!!!

Anon said:Fran i missed your hq fanart, it was so good seeing some more from you!

I’m happy you liked them!!!! I missed drawing them too, really !!!!

Anon said:Imagine this - BNHA kids like It kids. Also love your art!

But I haven’t watched It :O and thank you!!!

Anon said: Is it ok if fictionkin people reblog your art and tag it as kin or anything of the sort?

Sure! People are gonna do so anyway whatever I say after all, and this seems like a really silly thing to get bothered over since it’s not like it hurts me in any way haha

Anon said:Who dabs more, Denki or Mina?

If I gotta pick one I’d say Kaminari, but I sure as heck hope dabbing isn’t still a thing in whatever future bnha is set in, anon hahaha

Anon said:yo i love it when you color your sketches, so pretty!!

OH BOY thank you so so much!!!!! :O

Anon said:I love you and your art so much?? like??? you’re so perfect?? just keep doing what you’re doing because you’re doing fucking amazing

I’m the furthest thing from perfect you’re gonna find, anon haha but thank you so much for the compliment!!

Anon said:thank you for always making me smile.

And thank you cause this ask made me smile, anon!!

Anon said:your coloring skills are improving!!! gosh your art is visibly getting better lately (not that it’s even been “bad”, there’s no such thing!! i’ve always loved it). i don’t know if it’s a good idea to tell you this but i mean it as a genuine compliment!

Are they really??? °O° I wouldn’t have said so, honestly haha but I’m super happy to hear that, thank you!!

Anon said:Are any of your OCs romantically involved? Or are they all just good friends?

Yes and no, depending on at which point in their respective story we’re talking about haha Josh and Chris are in love with each other, and so are Max and Leo (well, their situation is a bit… uncommon, but if I were ever to write their story they’d be together in the end) - I once posted about Gabe and Hector, and by the end of their story they’re in a poly relationship with a girl named Erica I’ve never posted about. Luca has a love (?) interest of sort but he’s not been posted about yet hohoho maybe sometime in the near future. Still deciding about Isa and Ana’s relationship, but maybe. Who knows? That’s about it as far as the ones I’ve posted about go :D

Anon said:your ocs are adorable!! esp ana, I want to know EVERYTHING ABOUT HER (and, yeah, having new ocs is super exciting, like you said! just– being able to figure all that stuff out, actually mould a character of your own– it’s a lot of fun!!!)

Anon said: What are Ana and Isa like? From that drawing, I already think I would want to be friends with Isa! She looks like lots of fun!

She is!! She’s sort of a jock, a bit of a dummy and really loud, she’s easy to make laugh and got the type of laughter that makes you wanna laugh with her so when she’s around the mood is always a good one! She’s not exactly a social butterfly, but she’s got no problems with socializing, knows by instinct how to bend her behaviour to fit with all types of people and has the incredible ability to have every and all awkward situations fly right over her head, she just doesn’t notice them, and that makes it hard to be anything but relaxed when she’s around. She’s actually how she and Ana got in the group, since she’s gym buddies with Leo! She also really really likes ball sports :D

Ana’s an introvert all the way through, on the other hand - she’s really witty and sassy when she feels comfortable enough, and sarcasm is her preferred way of communicating, but if she doesn’t know you/ too many people she isn’t 100% comfortable with are around she comes off as timid and closed off, smiles politely and barely utters a word - people assume she’s the subdued and shy type at first so once she starts opening up it’s always sort of a shock haha she’s got a scientific mind and while she isn’t a “gifted kid” like Chris she likes to learn and study a lot, which is why she ended up having a real great relationship with Chris specifically out of everyone in the group (they like to nerd out together) (Josh isn’t particularly happy about it, the jelly idiot) 

Anon said: I love seeing you drawing and getting asks about your OCs. They have so much personality and it makes me super happy. I hope you’ll feel like sharing them with us more often!

Thank you so much!!!! I’m really really happy people seem to like them too!!!! :O

Anon said:you draw the children so long i love it :0

!!!!! :D thank you!!!

Anon said:Did you now that the voice actor of Tenya is also the one of Kageyama ? (I start Haikyuu because of you by the way, thanks for this and for all your great art !)

I did know!!! There’s a lot of hq va’s in bnha, that’s always made me happy haha

Anon said:Love the new Haikyuu art! Although it’s sad that someone made you lose motivation to draw BNHA :/ Daishou is one of my faves, too. He’s such a doof, love it.

OH BOY I love Daishou so much, I’m glad you like him too! Aside from how much fun he is to draw (and color! he’s a green haired boy and that matters lots to me haha) he’s got so much personality and he’s such an interesting character! I honest to god disliked him with a passion during the nekohebi game, actually haha but that’s how it is with most of my hq faves, after all hahaha glad you liked the doodles, by the way!!!

Anon said:DOGS? SHOUTS? LUCA IS MY KINDA GUY

THANK YOU FOR LIKING MY ANGRY SON !!!!!! :D

Anon said:I love Luca! Where did he get his scar?

A fight with some punks back when he was a teen that ended up escalating when knives became a thing that was being used :O he comes off as the dangerous sorta type which makes good people steer clear and bad ones come looking for trouble/ pick fights with him cause they assume he was picking a fight cause of his resting bitch face. Well, he’s an ass so let’s say that at least half the times he had been picking fights, and it’s not like he runs when someone tries to fight him anyway… that’s not the only scar he has, it’s just the most visible one haha

Anon said:I’m kinda freaking out about Luca and the others being italians! It makes me love your OCs even more ahah Btw, don’t know if you’ve already answered this or if it’s too personal but… are you Italian? (Or what nationality?)

Yah I am! :D and I’m super happy to hear you like my kids!!!!!

Anon said:Hello! I just wanted to let you know that you inspire me a lot! Your blog is honestly such a happy, fun place to be. You draw so much stuff, so much cute and sweet stuff regularly and I aspire to be like that! I’m extremely slow at drawing, and I lose motivation or get distracted from drawing easily, but I’m hoping for a day when I can make a blog just like yours; a place where I can regularly draw things that make me happy. I hope you have a wonderful day!

I’m!!!! so happy to hear that!!!!! And yeah I 100% understand the being slow and getting discouraged easily, I used to be (and sort of still am) like that too :O my need to be faster is what had me end up with the style I have now, actually haha I hope you’ll find a comfortable style that’ll let you be as fast as you wish soon too, anon!!!

Anon said:I don’t think you understand how much it means to me that you drew an asahi! He’s my fave and he looks precious and pretty in your style! Thank you for this gift :’)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m glad you liked him, then!!!!!!! *O* thank you!!!!!

Anon said:Thank you for drawing Noya! Im sorry it was sort of cause of a shitty anon, I also really enjoy your bnha drawings so im not trying to be all “waaaah go back to hq”, but im happy to see my lightning son and also find out hes in your favs? Yay!

YAH HE’S THE BEST ISN’T HE he’s been one of my top 5s since he first appeared, he’s such a good I’m glad you liked him!!!!!!!!

Anon said:FRAN YOUR NEW HQ ART IM IN LOVE!!!!!! YOU DRAW DAISHOU LIKE A LITERAL SNAKE HES SO SMUG ITS SO GOOD!! AND YOUR OCS!! I WOULD HONESTLY READ A BOOK ABOUT THEM. OR A WEB COMIC. BOTH ARE GOOD. SORRY ABOUT THE CAPS IM JUST EXCITED BC HQ!!!! AND AWESOME OCS!!!! (can you tell that i have a weakness for other people’s ocs, esp when done well) (which you certainly have)

THANK YOU FOR THE COMPLIMENTS OH GODS !!!!!!!!!!!! Especially about my ocs, that makes me so happy oh boy ;O; !!! And and and I’m super happy you liked Dai! He’s honestly so much fun to draw, for me hahaha

Anon said:I’m sorry that people are being assholes, sending good vibes! I love all your art, I hope you have a good day

This to you and everyone else who’s sent the same type of ask, thank you SO much! You guys are all so incredibly nice and supportive, bless all of you ;O;

Anon said:Dave!!! :D

Dave indeed!!!!!! :D :D

Anon said:your art is Good

Thank You !!!!!!!!

Anon said:omg i love your ocs so much

SOB thank you?????

Anon said:I love how the collar on Kiri’s coat in the ‘Them boys’ post is reminiscent of his pauldrons

……………………………………………….. that was totally on purpose. Yep. Definitely. Hmhm.

Anon said:Anon from before showed me your stuff today and just wanted to say wow I love your stuff what even your art is so good I fuckin love kiribaku and oh my god I swear I must have gone through your whole kiribaku tag and I’m gone your art just made my day

GOSH I’m glad you liked them???? thank you for such a nice message aaahhhh !!!!!!

Anon said:Im cry omg i just realized ur url is franeridart fjhfhf this whole time i thought it was friend art bddnjx

You’re the second person that tells me that in the span of just a couple of days omfg hahahaha it’s cool tho, I wish that was actually the url, it’d have been such a soft one haha

Anon said:hi Kaminari can skateboard he has a skateboard in his room

Kaminari in his room also has a dart board, a basketball and a dj console, and that’s only the stuff whe can see so actually, considering in his likes there’s “cool things” I think he’s the type of boy that tries to pursue any hobbie he might think would make him look cool, so either he has no clue how to use any of the cool things in his room above a vaguely amatorial level or he’s still pursuing all of those interests! Which would actually be super cool! Incidentally this is my preferred headcanon too so, yeah, as far as I’m concerned he knows how to skate. And play basketball. And darts. And also how to dj. He’s a cool kid haha

Anon said:Bless you and your super cute kiribaku ^_^

Bless you for the super sweet message, anon!!!! ;O;

Anon said:THAT JIROU IS SO TINY AND ADORABLE I’M DYING LOOK AT HER SIDE BY SIDE WITH KAMINARI AND BAKUGOU OH MY GOD

Hahahaha I might have actually accentuated that a bit, but she’s about 20cm shorter than the both of them and in a chibi style that’s hard to keep accurate hahahaha but yeah I love my pocket sized girl she’s the best

Anon said:Im so fucking happy because youve been posting (almost?) daily for a few days now

That was my own poor attempt at something similar to inktober, actually! I’ve had a few days through the month I wasn’t at home at all so I couldn’t draw all 31 days, but I think I got close? Maybe? I’m glad you enjoyed it, tho!!

Anon said:you deserve all the love in the world

I’m f sobbing so do you, friend ;u;

Anon said:do you like as*noya?? or, which are your main pairings for asahi and noya :)

I do ship as*noya, but I prefer Asahi with Daichi and Suga (ot3) or with Kiyoko, actually :O while my fav Noya ship is with Tanaka~

Anon said:I have recently fallen totally in love with kiribaku as a ship, and your art is always my favorite to see in the tags. Thanks for drawing those two nerds, and I hope you have a good rest of your day!

Thank you!!!!! This fandom is super full of incredibly talented people, I hope you’ll enjoy it here hahaha

Anon said: I first found your blog searching the Bokuroo tag.I was very happy because it was one of my all time OTPs,but they didnt have much content.Then there you came,with amazing art.Time passed and you watched BNHA.I was absolutely captivated by BakuShima and then I checked your blog and it had BakuShima!!I told myself “this person cant get any cooler”.But today i found out about TetsuKami and I checked their tag and yoU ALREADY MADE FANART OF THEM!!Officially ,you are the coolest person on Tumblr tbh

We seem to have really really similar tastes in ships, anon!!!! that’s so great omfg !!!!!!! :O and I’m super happy you like my stuff still afer all this time hahaha

Anon said:Could I draw some fan art of your ocs?

Oh my god yeah!!!!! please do link me to it if you do!!!!!

Anon said:BLESS YOUR BEAUTIFUL SOUL FOR MAKING SUCH AMAZING ART

BLESS YOU FOR BEING SO KIND, ANON!!!!!!