#She has to do the biting for him in this case cause he’s very much muzzled at these events.

[spookyscarycreepydollgirl]

Fae Courtier: Hey how ya’ll doin- *notices Ida*

Ida: *growls*

Fae Courtier: *screams* Get your fucking dog bitch! Bastion: It don’t bite.

Fae Courtier: Yes it do!

[cherryredstars]

Cherry, I love your work! Can you do a short with a clueless reader of Miguel's feelings? At 1st, he very subtle with it, dropping little hits here and there but then get a little desperate cause matter all the gifts she receives she thinks " Wow what a nice guy"

Love your work ❤️

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, Pining

A/N: This request was so cute!! I love writing soft Miggy!!

Unedited

He's at his wits' end.

He doesn't know what to do, because obviously his current plan isn't working. For months he's been trying to get you to notice him. He's been trying to get you to notice how much he feels for you. All for it to end up in vain, all for it to be taken as him being simply nice. Maybe he's being greedy in wanting more. It's run through his head millions of times that maybe he's the naive one. That maybe you know exactly how he feels, but you're too kind to turn him down directly.

But he knows that's not the case. He's heard the way you talk about him to others. Gushing about all the gifts he gets you, how kind and thoughtful he is, how he's such a nice guy. He wants to bash his head through a wall, maybe then he could come up with something to get you to notice.

So, here he is, sitting at one of your favorite restaurants waiting for you to walk in. His knee bounces rapidly under the table, his knee dangerously close to jolting the table repeatedly. His eyes keep straying to the door, trying to desperately catch a glimpse of you. His hands cycle between tapping on the table's surface and squeezing the bouquet in his hand. He attracts the attention of the tables around him when his knee does hit the table, his body jolting when you walk in.

You look as breathtaking as ever, your hair done nicely and wearing one of his favorite outfits. Your face lights up when you spot him, giving him a smile that makes heat crawl up his collar. He can feel beads of sweat forming on his temple as you make your way over, the smile on your face not diminishing for a second.

He took in a shaky breath, mustering up everything in him to return your smile with a small one. His eyes are sharply trained on you as you take a seat in front of him, watching as you smooth out your outfit.

"Sorry," you chuckle breathlessly as you meet his eyes, picking up the menu in front of you, "I got held up and I had to- Are those for me?"

Miguel's eyes fall to the bouquet you're staring at, still clenched tightly in his hand. Miguel blinks before clearing his throat, nodding as he holds it out for you. You smile, whispering out a shy thank you as you take it. You cradle it to your chest, cheeks taking on the slightest shade of color as you fix the crumbled paper they're wrapped in.

Miguel clears his throat, wincing when he tries to scoot his chair in and it squeaks against the floor. "You... I like what you're wearing."

You're eyes stray from the flowers, adjusting your arms to see what you have on. Your mouth drops open in a small 'o', nodding. "Oh, thank you! I wasn't sure if it was this outfit or the other one you liked that one time."

His cheeks are absolutely blazing, and he feels like he might suffocate under his clothes. His eyes dart away to the menu, pretending to look at its contents to avoid looking at your face. A lapse of silence falls over the table, and you slowly look down at your own menu when Miguel doesn't make a move to say anything.

"It was really nice of you to treat me to lunch," You speak up and Miguel looks over the top of the menu to look at you. "I'll be sure to treat you next time!"

Miguel has to bite his lip. There's that word again: nice. The more and more he hears it, the more the word nice doesn't sound so nice. He hums to mask his displeasure of the adjective, slowly setting the menu down.

"Actually..." He begins, folding his hands over the placed menu. You look up at him, eyeing his hands and slowly copying him with furrowed brows. He has to resist the urge to hit the table from how cute you are. "I asked you to have lunch with me because I had to tell you something."

You nod slowly in understanding, body stiffening slightly as you prepare yourself for what he might have to say. Miguel can feel sweat accumulating in the grooves of his palms, and he squeezes them tighter.

"I, um..." Miguel suddenly feels too hot, the air awfully tense. "I was wondering if you noticed my... advances?"

You blink at him, mouth slightly parting in confusion. Your hands slowly unfold as your head turns to look at the bundle of flowers that sit next to you. Miguel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, wishing he had asked a waiter for water before you came.

He jolts when you start laughing, catching the eyes of the other patrons. Miguel wishes the floors would swallow him or that he wasn't so tall. Maybe then he could slump into the chair. You smile as you grab the flowers again, gently stroking the petals.

"You liked me? This whole time?" You ask, a soft smile on your face as you tilt your head. Miguel nods hesitantly, mentally preparing for rejection.

You smile down at the flowers, a fond look on your face. "I thought this whole time you were trying to let me down gently."

Miguel is left completely still as he tries to process the words. Let you down gently? The implication hits him instantly, and his heart starts to beat rapidly in his chest.

"You... what?" He asks, needing the clarification before he reads too much into it.

"I mean," You laugh. "You never really responded to my flirting or anything so I just thought..."

"Flirting?" Miguel interrupts, brows furrowing in confusion. He can't for the life of him recall a moment where you flirted with him.

"You know... the compliments and stuff?" You clarify slowly, cheeks begin to burn at his intent stare.

Compliments? Miguel rakes through his brain, trying to recall anything you said to him that might hold a double meaning. But the only thing that surfaces is the word nice.

"You mean... when you would call me nice?" Miguel asks.

You nod bashfully, "Yeah... and wearing the outfits you said you liked."

Miguel slumps forward, burying his face in his hands as his shoulders shake with disbelieving laughter. This whole time you were flirting with him. Miguel takes in shuddering breaths as he tries to compose himself, giving you a soft smile with twinkling eyes.

"No offense," He starts, leaning back in his chair. "But you suck at flirting."

You let out an exasperated sigh before hiding your face behind the menu, muttering out a gentle shut up. Miguel smiles to himself, picking up his own menu as all the anxiety in his body washes away.

He really is clueless.

Fun fact: I get told my flirting comes off as friendly all the time and one of my male crushes asked me if I was gay because I kept complimenting him and it reminded him of all his gay friends LOL

[heaven4lostgirls]

I deserve better (A.H)

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

warning: angst, breakups, mentions of haley's death, reader is compared to haley, breakdowns, aaron has healing to do</3

summary: aaron comes home from a hard case with his decision already made, he's in for a very rude awakening when reader sees right through his bs.

word count: 1.5k

There was a loneliness in the air that felt almost palpable after your breakup with Aaron. It felt like an amalgamation of every broken promise and empty silences you both sat in, trying to grasp onto invisible strings surrounding your love. If you thought hard enough, you could almost clearly imagine what used to be his breathing when he used to lie on the now cold side of the bed. His presence haunted every empty corner of your now prodigious apartment.

You closed your eyes in the dark as your mind unwillingly drifted to the conversation with your now ex-boyfriend.      The sound of the door opening to Aaron’s home made you look away from the television as you waited with bated breath and a smile to see your boyfriend, only the expression he held on his face when your gazes met was one you knew you would commit to memory. Guilt, anguish. Probably worse if you had bothered to push deeper but you knew that you couldn’t do that yourself.

“Aaron?” your voice echoes in the living room and all he can do is hesitate, you watch as his hands shake as he places his badge, gun and bag down before making his way to you, his steps purposeful yet cautious and deep down you knew that whatever he was going to say was going to change the trajectory of your relationship.

“Hey” he whispers as he sits on the opposite end of the couch which only cements your worries, maybe he’s finally decided that him and Jack didn’t need another addition to their family, maybe he’s decided he’s had enough of you. “We need to talk” he starts, and your only response is a small nod as your underlying anxiety bubbles under your skin like a festering wound.

 “This- This case, it really made me realise something.” He starts and you can already feel your expression shifting from worry to confusion, he must recognise your own emotions as you do his as he continues swiftly. “The unsub mentioned you when we caught him, he knew your name” he says harshly and you look at him shocked, why hadn’t he told you any of this when you’d called him after he had wrapped up the case? “I promised myself when Haley passed away that I would never put someone I cared about in the position to be used against me” he says and your heart drops.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you ask out of genuine curiosity. He closes his eyes and clenches his hands into fists, “I think you know.” He croaks out and you scoff which only causes him to look at you  in confusion, “You’re being selfish” you bite out and he looks alarmed at the harsh words. “You’re not even letting me choose what I want to do about my OWN safety?” you ask harshly but soft enough as to not wake Jack up.

 He’s shaking his head before you can even finish your sentence, “you don’t get it!” he insists as he implores you understand what he’s saying. “you-you’ve never had to hold your d-dead wife’s body in your hands, wishing for her to come back, wishing you could tell her how much she means to you” he insists as his eyes well with tears and your heart drops at his confession.

“And I hope I never have to feel that, but Aaron you can’t keep taking your grief out on our relationship, I  know it hurts, but how  am I supposed to think you’re ending this for me when you’re putting Haley first even in death?” you whisper and against your own better judgement, you feel a few tears fall from your eyes.

“That-That is NOT what is happening.” He says again and you can see the frustration boiling over for him, “That’s not fair to me Aaron, you know that” you say, and you watch as confusion shifts on his features, “Wait no hold on, I didn’t mean it like that-”

“You didn’t have to. I always thought you’d meant in a constructive way for me, consistently telling me when I make Jack’s meals that it’s not the way Haley would’ve made it, when you tell me not to buy certain perfumes and body washes because it reminded you too much of Haley. But now I realise that you’ve been carrying this dead weight after her death, and it’s not fair for me to be carrying it with you. I will never replace Haley, but I do know that I deserve a lot more than being compared to her everyday just because you haven’t dealt with your grief.”

“Honey, hold on, just wait please-”

“I was going to fight for you Aaron , truly.  I came into this conversation thinking of ways to help you not give up on us, but I can’t do that when the one thing pushing you is a woman I can never compete with.”

Aaron looks distraught and your heart feels simultaneously lighter and broken at the same time, His healing needed to take priority and you knew that his journey didn’t necessarily have space for you. And that was okay, at the end of the day the one thing you had always wished was to see Aaron Hotchner happy, and if that meant he had to do it without you, you would deal.

“I love you” he says, his eyes begging you to believe him, and your lips lift at his statement, as they’ve done a million times before, a force of habit. You shift closer to him and grasp his hand in yours as you place your other one on his face. His eyes close at the contact and he starts shaking his head, “Don’t- don’t do this right now. Please don’t do this Y/N.” his voice cracks.

Your lips quivers and you attempt to move your hand to smother the sob building in your chest but as your hand lifts off of his cheek his eyes are open wide, alarmed to feel you slipping away and he grasps you closer to him, looking into your eyes wildly as you look into his eyes, hoping all of your love is shining through them. “You know I have to.” You whisper and his expression is pained as he feels your hands run through his hair.

“I  can’t do this without you” he confesses as he chokes on his tears, his hands grasping to your hips and arms as though you’d disappear if he looked away. “You’re going to be just fine, I promise” you say, and he shakes his head before the sobs escape him and he leans his head into your body as sobs wrack through his body. Warbled cries of “I’m sorry” flood from him and all you can do is hold him through it, hoping it  brings him some form of comfort.

You console him until he tires himself out, he looks so much more peaceful when he’s asleep, his furrowed brow is smoothed out and if not for the tear tracks running down his cheeks you would never be able to know how much pain he was just in. You manoeuvre him to lay on the couch, a suitable enough pillow under his head and a soft blanket covering him. Your hand still lays outstretched in his grip, and you bite your lip as you try to let him let go.

As  soon as your hand leaves his grip, he’s  whimpering and grasping for some form of contact from you, you quickly snatch one of Jack’s teddy bears from the floor and you place it within his grasp, he grasps it almost immediately and holds it close to his chest. Your eyes mist over and you take a few minutes to breathe deeply and once calm, you quickly plan.

You take an old overnight bag you used to use before you started staying for weekends, such as this one. You pack the clothes you use the most and some work essentials before packing up your toiletries and everything else that can fit in your car. Everything looks so immensely empty when all your stuff is gone, with a quick little kiss to Jack’s cheek, you switch on your car, and you drive the route to your apartment.

In the silence and solace of your car, you allow yourself to break, sobs wrack through your body and your scream and cry as you make the drive to your place. You break again when you see the emptiness and coldness of your apartment, there’s none of Jack’s drawings on the fridge, none of Aarons past case files on the dining table, none of their shoes at the entrance and none of everything of what you loved and missed dearly.

Which brings you to now, in your bed, unable to look at the other side usually occupied by an Aaron sized lump. You don’t sleep, when the sun starts rising and coming through your room, you don’t move. When your alarm goes off at 7AM, you don’t move. When Aaron’s name flashes on your screen with multiple unanswered calls, you don’t move. You eventually get  up to go to work and exist throughout the day.

Nobody asks you what’s wrong and you don’t divulge, you know it will take you a long time to feel okay enough to even see Aaron again but for now, you can mourn and think of what could have been as you learn how to live without half of yourself.

[reidsdimples]

Confetti 🎉

Spencer Reid x bau!Reader

Just cute 💝

“It’s not too much! How could it be too much?!” Penelope exclaims as she tosses confetti onto and around Spence’s desk.

You frown, especially because she picked the tiny confetti that finds its way into everything. Spencer will hate it.

“You just wanna torture him,” you shake your head and grin.

“You remember that time he filled my office drawer with those spring loaded snakes? Nearly gave me a heart attack! He gets what he deserves in the form of too much confetti love,” she quips as she dumps the smaller confetti into his drawer.

“Baby girl, you have your own office. We’ll never hear the end of what you’re doing to the kid,” Derek cuts in and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

“Shh! He’ll be here any minute!” Penelope says.

“Lights out, he’s in the elevator,” Hotch says more stoically.

The surprise party probably could have happened anywhere. But he would be least expecting it in the bullpen and as a result of a late night text from Hotch.

You crouch down and fiver nervously with the horn noise maker thing. Emily drags JJ behind a desk as the elevator dings open.

Spence pauses before opening the glass door, suspicion painted over his soft features. He glances through the glass briefly, furrows his eyebrows like he does when he’s thinking, and sighs.

“He’s suspicious,” you whisper to Penelope who swats your arm.

Just then Rossi exits the elevator. Your saving grace and plan B in case he decided to back out.

“I wonder what Hotch has for us,” he smiles knowingly at Spence before ushering him through the glass door. You can tell he so wanted to back out.

“SURPRISE!” The team jumps out with a roar of noise makers and clapping.

“Happy birthday Spence!”

“Happy birthday kid!”

An onslaught of attention is turned towards him and he sweetly smiles and takes it all in.

“Wow I didn’t expect this,” he lies. “Thanks everyone!”

“Happy birthday, you,” you nudge him sweetly. His face lights up when you talk to him, causing your heart to flutter.

You’re starting to think this crush isn’t just one sided. You hope, anyway.

Spencer kind of took you under his wing when you arrived at the BAU six months ago.

“It’s everywhere!” Spencer exclaimes upon inspecting his desk and drawers.

The team collectively points at Penelope who smiles wide with pride.

“That’ll teach you to put spring loaded critters in my desk!” She teases.

Spencer bites his lip and nods in a touchè manner and you find yourself smiling almost too hard. His cheeks are reddened and it always so cute.

Pizza is delivered and cake is cut while everyone socializes. You see that Spence occasionally turns his attention to picking confetti off of his desk, it seems to really bother him.

While he and JJ converse with Rossi, you decide to start emptying his drawers so you can dump the confetti out. It doesn’t take very long, mostly folders and a few fidget toys are scattered within them.

You’re dumping out the second drawer when he appears.

“What are you doing?” He asks and sits on the edge of the desk.

“It seemed to really bother you,” you answer as you tried the contents of his drawer.

“I’m pushing the meeting to ten am tomorrow, go home and get some sleep!” Hotch instructs the team abruptly. It was one am so there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Spence smiles. “I can do the rest tomorrow.”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind,” you insist. “Go home and get some sleep. It won’t take long.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Emily hugs you and then JJ.

“See you guys!” You wave them off.

Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Penelope leave in tandem. Penelope offered to help you clean the confetti but you told her to go home, she had already decorated the entire office. You could clean it up.

“Shouldn’t you be going,” you point to the elevator closing on the rest of the team.

“No I’m going to help. You can’t get rid of me so don’t even try,” Spence teases you playfully.

You huff a small laugh, smiling to yourself as you shake your head. He’s so cute.

“Huh?” Spence says suddenly. Wait, did I murmur something?

“What?” You turn to him, flustered.

“I swear you said ‘so cute,’” he tilts his head as he pops a balloon in his hand. You jump at the sound.

“I- uh- no,” you stammer. Your cheeks heat which is a dead give away.

“You’re stuttering, your breathing increased, your face is red… you’re lying,” he seems amused.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” You slap his arm with an embarrassed smile. You rush past him back to his desk to keep cleaning.

The next few minutes drag on awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to say next. Spence seemingly having little experience in the flirting department.

“Okay fine, I thought it was cute that you insisted on staying and helping despite the mess driving you crazy,” you cross your arms and lean against the wall.

You watch him closely as he turns his head toward you from where he’s leaning over his desk. His long hair and sharp jaw line causes your heart to skip a beat. His brown eyes meet yours as he articulates what exactly he’s going to say.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, standing to his full height with all of his attention on you. No I think you’re fucking drop dead sexy but sure cute works. A small grin plays in his lips as he awaits your response.

“It’s a crush, really a small crush. And I’m sorry. It’s so inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said anything,” you ramble off and turn away from him.

Something about admitting this makes him intimidating. Especially because he’s walking towards you, fixated and silent. The gears turning in his big giant brain and you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“I like you too,” his voice comes out hoarse, a near whisper and he’s right behind you.

You turn back towards him as he pushes his hair back, he swallows hard, his face and neck now colored pink.

He’s nervous, disheveled, adorable.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly, just a small kiss. It shocks him, his eyes widening. His tongue runs across his bottom lip and then he’s grabbing your face in his hands.

He kisses you softly, sweetly. Your hands run down his arms and tangle into his shirt. You’re against the wall and his kissing you slowly, as though to take in and taste you completely. His soft lips taste better than you could have imagined as you push your tongue out to find his.

Shit.

The moment goes on in perfect passionate kissing and touching. His hands find your waist, your hips, your lower back, and your body comes alive for him. Small breathy sounds escape as you both fight for air and dominance in the kiss.

Finally you break it, pulling back and looking up at him. His lips are slightly swollen now, his pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from your hands.

“Happy Birthday, Dr. Reid,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

[moonstruckme]

hey :)) first off, i love the hozier caption in your bio. second, I’ve been reading so many of your fics recently and i think you’re sooo talented! i wanna be like you when I grow up (im 20 almost 21 lol)

anyways, I’ve never really requested anything but i wanna give it a try. I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader fic or a just remus x reader fic where’s she’s driving and accidentally hits an animal and is really upset about it but they’re there to help to her move it and comfort her.

i just hit a cat and im not taking it well. we think it was just a stray cause I left my number with it in case but no one has called. my family kinda, but not really, made fun of me for being so sad about it and i kinda just need something with the guys being so affectionate and loving with her after everything.

it’s totally okay if youre not up to it! I understand that it’s such a hard topic so I won’t be offended if you don’t feel comfortable writing in this.

thank you again and im sooo looking forward to youre future work!! you’re talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before (lady gaga)

Mwah mwah mwah <3<3

-aves

(sorry this is so long)

Hi sweetheart, thank you so much! (Is your username a Lizzy McAlpine reference? I love that) I'm really sorry you went through this, I've been fortunate enough to have never hit an animal but I've seen it happen and it's so horrible, I'm really sorry you've been dealing with this :(( I think you did the right thing by leaving your number with it, and I hope the weight of that trauma and grief is starting to lift off you my love. Thank you for requesting <3

cw: mention of killing an animal, reader feeling guilty

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James hears the door and is up instantly, bounding down the hall to greet you and Sirius. 

“Hello!” he calls ahead, eager for company after being left alone in your flat for over a half hour. “You guys took your time today, I thought even Remus might beat you home. Was traffic a riot, or…”

Sirius is looking at him with panic in his blue-gray eyes, clearly trying to convey one of those telepathic messages James has never been great at interpreting, and you…you’re looking at nothing. Your gaze is distant as you work off your shoe, the area around your eyes puffy and gray with smudged mascara. 

“Hey,” James breathes, then feels stupid. It sounds like he’s accusing you of something. He tries again. “Is everything okay?” 

Sirius gives him a look that says What do you think? and crouches beside you to help with a stubborn knot in your shoelace. Your hands are trembling, James notices. Dread settles like a stone in his stomach.

“I’ve got it,” Sirius murmurs to you, fingers gentle as they intercept your own, but the alarm doesn’t leave his expression as he watches your face. Ah. As much as it kills James to see you upset, Sirius will have no idea what to do with you in this state. Tears have always set him on edge. 

James squats, joining the two of you on the floor. “Hi, sweetheart.” He does his best to keep his own anxiety out of his voice as his hand finds your ankle, fingers wrapping around the bit of skin between the hem of your jeans and your socks. “Has something happened?” 

Your eyes meet his already full of tears, and James braces himself. Sirius does too, by the look of it, his shoulders tensing as he watches your face like you’re about to crumble away to nothing right here on their doormat. 

“I—” That’s all you get out before you have to bite down on your lip to keep from crying. A tiny whimper escapes, and spider web cracks spread across James’ heart. A sluggish tear leaks from your right eye. 

“It’s okay,” he swears, though he has no way of knowing it. You press the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to quell the sobs that shake your frame even with no air to feed them. “Oh, honey.” James leans forward, wrapping you in an awkward but very heartfelt hug, your knees between his chest and yours but your head crossing the distance to wet his shoulder with your tears. 

A sympathetic pressure builds in James’ sinuses, but he does his best to breathe through it. Stability tends to help you more than sympathy in these situations, and since Remus isn’t home yet, it’s left to James to be the reasonable one (Sirius would have all sorts of jokes to make about that, but he doesn’t seem to be feeling up to them either). 

He gives you a few moments of reprieve, a few passes of his palm up and down your spine, before trying again. “What’s going on?” he asks, gently as he can. “You guys are scaring me. Sirius?” 

Sirius’ brow pinches like he almost doesn’t want to say it either, and the anticipation in James’ chest heavies. “We were driving home,” he says slowly, keeping a wary eye on you lest he worsen your upset, “and a rabbit ran in front of the car.” 

Relief nearly chokes James at the same time as a sympathetic sorrow takes ahold of him. He pets the back of your head. You tremble with the force of your crying, leaning into his touch greedily. 

“She was driving?” he asks quietly, though he’s nearly sure. If your reaction isn’t enough to go off of, he already knows that you usually pick Sirius up from work and drive the both of you home. 

Sirius nods. 

“It doesn’t sound like there was anything you could do,” he murmurs to you, cupping the back of your neck to encourage you to look up at him. You do, sniffling as your lip quivers, and James uses his thumb to brush a wet streak of mascara from your blotchy cheek. 

“It must have been so scared.” Your voice breaks on the last word and James’ heart along with it, leaving a throbbing wound in the center of his chest. 

“I doubt it had time to be scared, honey,” he tries to reassure you, but his own voice is fraught. He looks to Sirius. “Did you…do you know if it…passed?” 

Sirius is half hiding behind his hair, a sure tell of his disquiet, and it brushes his shirt collar when he nods again. “We weren’t sure at first, so I got out to move it off the road. It was dead.” He winces at his wording, and you bite down on your lip harshly. His tone softens as he addresses you. “I really don’t think it felt any pain.”

You look nowhere near ready to believe him, and James is preparing to offer to make you a cup of tea and let you sort out your grief at your own pace when the front door opens again, stopping when it hits Sirius’ side. 

“Oh.” Remus pokes his head through. “Hello. Why are we all sitting on the floor?” 

Sirius scoots the rest of the way out of the door’s path before deciding to stand instead. He speaks to Remus in a low voice while James runs a hand up and down your side in an attempt to soothe you. He locks eyes with Remus over your shoulder, watching as the taller boy’s gaze takes on the weight of understanding. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Remus wraps Sirius in a half-hug, kissing his surprised boyfriend on the temple before stooping beside you. “That must have been awful to have to see. Let’s get you up, yeah?” He wraps a spindly hand around your forearm, more encouragement than anything, and James grips your other hand as he stands to pull you up with him. 

Neither of them seem quite willing to break contact with you, walking you over to the couch like a newborn fawn despite your murmured I’m okay. Sirius follows close behind. The both of you look like you’re perching rather than sitting, unable to completely relax even now that you’re home. 

“It must have been quite a scare,” Remus sympathizes, sitting on the edge of his favored armchair. 

“A bit,” Sirius mutters, and your throat bobs. 

Remus cocks his head. “What’re you thinking, darling?” 

James almost wants to look away at the rawness in your expression as you raise your eyes to meet Remus’. “I just…I can’t believe I killed it. I’ve never” —your voice pitches, and you swallow again— “I’ve never killed anything before.”

 “It was an accident,” James tells you, beseeching. 

“You couldn’t have stopped,” Sirius says. His voice has an odd, desperate quality to it, and James sees Remus notice it at the same time as he does, both boys leaning forward to see Sirius better. For the first time, James notices—had he missed it before, or has it only just started?—that Sirius is trembling slightly too. James’ free hand twitches instinctively toward him, but his dark-haired boyfriend is only touchy when he’s in a good mood. He’s not keen on physical comfort; no matter how many years James has worked on him, Sirius has always preferred to keep his struggles internal. “Or avoided it,” he goes on. “It happened too fast.” 

Remus nods at you. “As awful as it is, these things happen sometimes. Hopefully,” he adds when another tear slips down your cheek, “never again to you, but selfish as it is, I’m glad you didn’t slam on the brakes or anything else that could have gotten you and Sirius hurt instead.” 

You glance at Sirius, and he gives you a weak smile, taking your hand and squeezing gently. 

“Nothing you could have done,” he whispers. 

Your lips tremble again. James watches as panic flashes in Sirius’ eyes, but he keeps it together. “I’m really sorry,” you tell him, voice wavering. “I shouldn’t have made you take care of the bunny by yourself.” 

James' chest aches as Sirius takes a steadying breath. “You were frazzled. Understandably upset,” he corrects himself, squeezing your hand again. This time you squeeze back. “It was a one-man job anyway.” 

You make a soft sound, leaning your head on his shoulder, and James has the sense something has settled a bit in each of you. He raises your joined hands to his lips, kissing the back of yours as Remus’ eyebrows furrow. 

“Have you had a chance to wash your hands, love?” he asks Sirius, who blinks.

“No. I forgot.” 

Despite the heavy atmosphere, James actually feels the beginnings of a smile tempting his lips as he watches Remus forcibly quell his horror. “Right, then. Why don’t we go do that in the kitchen now, and I’ll make us all some tea.” 

“Good idea,” James says heartily, swiping his thumb back and forth over his own kiss on your hand. “Hey, could we take out the good cookies as well?” 

Remus hums what James chooses to interpret as assent, shepherding Sirius into the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry,” you say to James once the other two are out of hearing. 

He looks down at you. “What for, sweetheart?” 

You shrug, your shoulders remaining just a tad too high after the motion. You’ve stopped crying, and James is grateful, but he doesn’t think this shameful look is a vast improvement. “I feel like I’m being dramatic. And Sirius is the one who had to see it. He had to drive home too, I was too upset.” 

James’ battered, broken heart wells for the both of you. He forgoes his attentions to your hand, wrapping his arm around your shoulders instead to tuck you against his side. “You’re not being dramatic,” he promises, “okay? You and Sirius were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and you both had to witness something awful.” Your head sinks onto his shoulder, and he rubs your upper arm. “I think it’s alright to be sad for a while. For yourselves, and for the bunny. Just, don’t torment yourself, alright?” He withdraws enough to see your face, and you tilt your gaze up to his. “Please. You don’t deserve the guilt.” 

Your eyes cast down, contemplative and a bit shy, a moment before your head comes back to its spot on his shoulder. “Thanks,” you murmur. 

“No thanks necessary, babe. You can cry all night if you need to, I’ll be right here. Just do me a favor,” he lowers his voice, glancing toward the kitchen, “let me sit between you and Sirius if you do. Many more tears and I think he’ll have a heart attack.”

[sadly-in-active]

What type of yandere do you think the Ancients would be if they were one

Thank you for the idea anon <3

Yandere Ancients x Reader

Summary: Oh, lookie, lookie here! It seems that you've managed to charm each and every ancient into loving you dearly...a bit too dearly perhaps. But that's just how they show their affections, right? Maybe that one cookie you were talking to the other day is alright and well and not dead in a closet?

TW: Stalking, manipulation, murder, threatening, not beta read and has never done yandere hcs before. Have fun pookies :D

(It goes from least scariest yandere to most)

REMEMBER WHAT I SAID WHEN I HAD NEVER DONE THIS BEFORE 😭

Hollyberry Cookie

She's definitely attached to you, thats for sure.

You know love bombing? Make it like she's sending a tactical nuke right towards your heart.

She's very clingy, but would allow you to go and do things on your own, you just have to tell her what you did and where you went. Oh, and who exactly you were with.

Hollyberry would never lay a finger on you in a harmful way. Why would she if she knows you'll never want to hurt her affectionate and adorable heart?

Golden Cheese Cookie

She treasures you much, much more then any piece of gold or glittering item she could ever create in her kingdom. The kingdom would be worthless without you in it.

Golden Cheese would stalk you and your every move, sometimes even commanding the marzipan cookies to follow you and photograph your day.

Talking to someone that wasn't the Golden Sovereign? Consider them gone, turned to dust in mere seconds.

She's a goddess! Why would you not want to worship her as much as she does to you..?

It would almost make her sad. Luckily, her best option is to make you do it.

And how could refuse such godly words and beautiful voice?

White Lily Cookie

She’s certainly worse then most of the Ancients. White Lily may just keep you inside the Faerie Kingdom at all times, perhaps even convincing Elder Faerie to keep you under house arrest. Although, she wouldn’t tell you specifically…

White Lily always had her eyes on you, the way you smiled at her words, how you hold her close and say how much you love her.

And she’ll convince you almost every time that you need her.

How could you refuse such a sad and pouty face she makes every time you want to doubt her? It’s almost pitying.

Knowing her goals and past, she would want you to reassure her that you love her, no matter what.

No matter what.

Dark Cacao Cookie

He CANNOT lose you. Anything that you do must be monitored.

Hell, he may even want to use Affogato Cookie’s old spells to keep you under his watch, all agreeable and soft..

He has threatened you once or twice whenever you try to question his judgement, saying stuff like:

“My love, don’t fret. I’m only protecting you.”

But your fears and suspicions were confirmed after one of the Watchers you were talking to suddenly went missing the next day. All you did was say hello and made small talk…

You knew he lost a lot, of course he had the right to be protective over you.

Except being so overprotective and going so far as to…eliminate someone out of sheer jealousy?

You had caused this situation. This was worse then what Affogato Cookie did to the King, because you were doing it completely on accident.

So, to stop hurting anyone else, you just…accepted his love, remaining safe and unharmed within the citadel, avoiding everyone in case of another accident.

Pure Vanilla Cookie

He was supposed to be a pure soul. Someone who’d never do anything horrible or wrong…

Yet when he met you, he instantly got attached. Why? Not even he could explain. You just had some sort of connection with him that made Pure Vanilla love you so dearly.

He definitely hurt you while you were sleeping once or twice, and the feeling of watching you thank him after healing you was…exhilarating.

His habits started from little cuts on your legs to full blown “love” bites and deep cuts on your arms and hands.

At first, you didn’t realize it was him, but after becoming concerned by how much it was happening, you decided to pretend sleeping and wait until something happened.

And it was an understatement that you were shocked.

It was more…terrifying, honestly.

And when you confronted him? He practically almost broke down crying, pulling on your clothes and begging for forgiveness and that he wouldn’t do it again.

Oh, how a King fell so far from purity, nobody will know.

Because after this incident, you forgave him. Surely he was going to stop? You loved him after all, of course he wouldn’t do it again..

And he didn’t. The reason? It’s because you’ve started to lose sleep now. At a concerning point…

Was that coffee in the air? No, just vanilla, as usual…

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (3)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4k

— 🍄 summary: the coroner of Farrow's End finally invites you into his kingdom, and you can feel more than one set of watching eyes as you continue your investigation.

— ☕ content warnings: coroner!taehyung, assistant!jungkook, mentions of murder/death/suicide

— 🕸️ a/n: meeting more of the boys!!

previous chapter ← series m.list → next chapter

chpt. 3: into the morgue

"Have her come in," Taehyung says over dinner.

There's a collective clang as several sets of silverware are put down.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, hyung," Jungkook replies. He's nervous around you, especially because you can see more than you let on.

"We're going to have to eventually," Namjoon adds, and Jimin sends him a mischievous, knowing look. He knows how Joon likes to watch you in the bookshop, offering his assistance at his earliest convenience, asking if you need help finding anything specific.

"It's obvious she was hired by the mayor," Yoongi says. "Though, I'm not entirely sure why."

They all know that Mayor Summerbee runs in some of the same circles that they do, but they wonder if you're aware of that fact too. How much did she tell you?

"At the very least, it'll tell us what she already knows," Yoongi says.

"And if she scares easily," Taehyung adds, suppressing a smirk.

What kind of private investigator are you? Are you motivated by self interests? Are you just here to get the job done, bare minimum? Or are you the morbidly curious type? The kind that can't stop until a mystery is solved, even if it leads you to dangerous places.

Yoongi and Namjoon already have a guess at which type you are.

"She has some kind of sight," Jungkook says, biting his nails. The real question is how sharp is that sight?

"I don't think she knows that she has it," Jin pipes in.

They exchange glances, thinking.

"Well," Hoseok says, and they all turn to look at him. "I suppose we'll just have to test it."

september 27, 2004

You've seen your fair share of coroners. Good ones, even excellent ones, and the ones who never should've been appointed to the job in the first place. Most people aren't aware that there is no national standard for coroners, some don't even have medical training.

You remember a case not too long ago when a family mourning the loss of their son hired you to investigate the circumstances of his death, which was ruled "accidental" at the time. The coroner had not had any prior forensic training, he was an OBGYN turned politician. Elected by the small-town voters (nearly 80% of coroners in the U.S. are elected, by the way), he was cushy with the local police force.

And being your naturally suspicious self, or maybe it's a side effect of your job, you pressed for a second autopsy by an examiner actually worth his salt.

The external examination alone proved that it was far from accidental. His wounds suggested severe beating, and his cause of death was suffocation from being choked, homicide not accident.

Further investigation revealed police brutality. You pushed and pushed and pushed, and after being enough of a pain in the ass (and threatening several lawsuits), they finally convicted the officers responsible.

The family still sends you a Christmas card every year, and it more than makes up for being a pain in the ass for living.

So yeah, you don't trust coroners, or their reports, until you get the chance to evaluate their level of competence for yourself. And the fact that the coroner of Farrow's End has been so resistant to your attempts to contact him doesn't bode well.

But today, the Monday following your little expedition up to the Addam's House, he's finally available to see you. Last night you received a call at around midnight, seemingly from the same young man you saw on the other side of the gate the other day.

Of course you were awake, but you wondered why the coroner's office would be up and running at such an hour. Maybe a late night emergency autopsy? It wasn't unheard of, sometimes a Sheriff will request an autopsy to be completed as soon as possible when the press are particularly bothersome and the cause of death is unclear.

You didn't get the chance to ask, because the man started rattling off about how the coroner would be able to see you tomorrow morning, and he advised that you bring any notes you might have.

Good sign, it suggests that the coroner is willing to work with you.

It's early, maybe a little too early. The fog is blanket-thick and the clouds are sprinkling down a fine mist of rain.

You take your car as far as the rocky dirt road allows, park it at the base of the hill, and trudge on through the mud, the umbrella over your head immediately collecting dew.

You reach the gate, closed like last time. When you reach for it, you're expecting to find it locked, but just as your fingers are about to touch the cold metal, the gate swings open with a long creak.

You stand there for a moment, searching for some kind of mechanism that would make it open by itself, but you find nothing but old iron forged in intricate patterns.

Whatever, you've seen weirder. You slip through the parted gates and close them behind you.

Gigantic trees, pines it looks like, envelop the perimeter of the surrounding gates, with twisting, leafless trees in abundance nearer to the house, even though fall is just beginning to dawn and most leaves haven't even begun to change color yet.

You didn't notice it before, but these leafless trees are full of crows, black tufts perched on the reaching branches. No, crows and ravens. They call out as you pass by, and you get the odd sense that every single one of them is looking at you.

The cobblestone path leading up to the front door is overgrown with weeds. The exterior of the house, now that you can see it up close, is almost decrepit. The wood is rotting, the roof is sagging, the windows are dirty and smudged.

They rent this place out?

"Ma'am!" a voice calls out.

You search for the owner of the voice, finally finding it at the side of the house. It's the young man from the other day, peeking around a brick corner. He gestures you over and swiftly disappears again.

When you turn the corner, the man is standing by a double hatch door in the ground. Not a good sign for a supposed "morgue."

He seems to read as much on your face, because then he's saying, "I would take you down the elevator inside, but everyone is still asleep."

There's a childish nervousness in his voice, and it makes you send an uncharacteristic smile his way as you step through the door and down a spiral staircase.

Distracted, you don't see the curtains twitch, and the several faces in the windows above, watching.

The passage runs deep. You emerge in a wide hallway, lined with carved wooden walls and old portraits. The foundation is clearly old, but there are newly installed fluorescent lights that don't do the original craftsmanship justice.

"How old is this house?" you blurt out, and the young man can't suppress a high, boyish laugh.

"I'm not sure, around a century, I think," he says.

Wow hard to believe it's gone untouched for so long, you think as he leads you down the extensive hallway, passing several branching doorways.

Your eyes drink everything in, curious and scrutinous. Again, the man seems to read your mind.

"It might not look it, but we have a state of the art facility here," he begins.

"Crematorium," he gestures to one door. "Viewing room. Embalming room. Autopsy room. And the largest refrigeration unit in five counties."

This place is extensive, and the further you go, the cleaner and more modern it gets.

You notice that the man is wearing similar clothing from before: a large coat (broad shoulders) and big, thick boots. Black, laced up over his ankles it appears, it makes the thud of his footsteps echo against the walls.

You wonder if they are corpse-handling boots, or merely a style choice.

"Here's the office," he says, leading you into a small but cozy room fit with a cluttered desk and a few dusty but comfortable-looking armchairs.

"You can have a seat if you like," he says, nervousness creeping back into his voice.

You take him up on the offer, sinking into one of the armchairs despite the fact that you're a little damp from the rain. But judging by the state of the chairs, you doubt it would bother them.

It's then than you realize how chilly it is down here, in this basement maze tucked under an ancient house. Damn, you're so—

"Cold?" the man says suddenly. "I'm sorry, we get quite the chill down here. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

You perk up almost instantly.

"Coffee, please," you reply maybe a little too perkily, because it makes him smile at you, exposing those bunny teeth again. Very cute.

He disappears through another doorway, into some sort of kitchenette judging by the sounds coming from it (metal banging, water running, porcelain clanking).

You take a look around. The office walls are lined with framed photos and plaques all boasting the same name: Kim Taehyung. Bachelor of Science in Biology, Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, Master of Forensic Science, Embalmer's License, Medical Examiner Certification, Doctor of Medicine.

Got it, this man is learned. Good sign.

The young man returns with a silver tray in his hands. He sets it down on the ottoman between the two armchairs, grasping the black teapot and pouring fresh steaming coffee into a matching black teacup. You notice that the sugar cubes are in the shape of skulls and bones, and a part of you admires the dedication to the aesthetic.

You prepare your cup and sip greedily. The coffee is rich and strongly-brewed. Another good sign. It may not contribute to your investigation, but at least you can respect him as a person.

The young man takes the seat next to you and prepares his own cup.

For the first time since you arrived, you aren't distracted by your surroundings, and you're realizing just how strange this young man looks.

His skin is a dull shade of gray, with slight red blemishes and spots of dark purple flesh that look like deep bruises. His lips are simultaneously pale yet also tinged red, like there's blood inside his mouth. And his eyes, they look like—

The man seems to notice you staring at him, because he shifts uncomfortably in his chair and coughs awkwardly.

You blink, and his form seems to blur at the edges, becoming fuzzier and harder to latch onto. Maybe he has some sort of skin condition. But that wouldn't explain the feeling that something isn't quite right about him, something uncanny.

"I'll go see if Dr. Kim is ready for you," he says, practically sprinting out of his seat and out of the room. You hear his footsteps pounding through the halls, then hushed voices.

You being you, the debate over whether to slip through the hall to eavesdrop on their conversation does cross your mind. But you figured that even with your silent feet, they would probably still hear you rustling around in the quiet of the morgue.

A few moments later, and you hear one set of footsteps returning to the office. The young man pops his head into the doorway.

"He'll see you now," he says, vanishing just as fast. The way he appears and disappears like a ghost is starting to give you whiplash.

You follow him down the hall, entering a fluorescent-lit room fit with chrome features. The walls are lined with little doors, drawer openings, and there are several gurneys scattered throughout the room. The chill is even stronger here, this must be part of that state of the art refrigeration system.

The man standing in the center of it all is wearing a white medical gown and black latex gloves. He looks up as you enter, and—

Oh. He's young, startlingly young, early thirties max. His skin is golden tan over strong, handsome features. Dark tiger eyes, sharp and perceptive. The only indicator of his age is several tendrils of silver hair growing from the crown of his head.

"Good morning," he greets in a deep, charming voice. "Miss ______?"

"Yes, Dr. Kim?" you reply, holding out a hand.

"Just Taehyung, please," he says, taking off his gloves to shake your hand firmly, and jesus his hands are large and very pretty.

Ah, so he's not a pretentious asshole who insists on being addressed as "doctor" constantly. Another good sign. Though, judging from his extensive education, in this case it would be justified.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't see you sooner. It can get quite busy with just the two of us down here," Taehyung says.

You can't help but take another glance around the room. Only two people running this whole facility?

"I understand that you're working with the mayor?" Taehyung inquires, his casual voice good at hiding his burning curiosity.

You, in turn, are good at hiding the slight suspicion from hearing the mayor mentioned yet again. You're not sure who you're suspicious of though, him or the mayor herself.

"Yes, I was hoping I could get copies of the autopsy reports for Michael Bradley, Jarvis Laplan, and Sharon Mason."

You say it matter-of-factly, curious if they will bend at the slight flex of authority in your voice. Or, if being associated with the mayor yields certain results.

The two of them glance at each other.

"Access to Laplan and Mason aren't a problem, but Mary Bradley has requested that no further information on her husband's death be released," Dr. Kim replies, cool as a cucumber.

Your eyes widen just a bit, unable to hide your surprise. Wait...what? He would just give you the reports for Laplan and Mason, just like that? No request for credentials? No questions asked?

Truth be told, you've never gotten hold of an autopsy report after the first ask. You've always had to jump through hoops to get the right permissions and authorizations, as is the case for private investigators since they are not real police. And rightly so, the fine details of people's violent deaths is not something to be made light of, in your opinion.

Clearly your confusion is evident on your face, because then Taehyung is saying, "Laplan's wife and Sharon Mason's parents are quite eager for further investigation."

Ah, so they suspect something unusual too. Hopefully they'll be more than willing for an interview.

"And Bradley...?" your voice trails off with the question.

Taehyung furrows his brows like he isn't sure how exactly to put it.

"Mrs. Bradley has had a bad experience with the press," is all he says.

You can feel your eyebrow raise.

"Is she still a suspect?" you ask, deadpan.

Taehyung is quick to correct himself.

"No, god no!" he says, eyes wide and head shaking. "His death was purely accidental, a tragedy that could've been avoided."

Your attention catches on that last part like a snagged thread on a nailhead.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" you ask, unconsciously taking a step forward.

Jungkook, who's silently watching the whole exchange, can't help but think it makes you look predatory, a hunter locked onto their target with frightening accuracy.

But Dr. Kim doesn't bend. He tilts his head ever so slightly as the corner of his mouth curves up, like he respects your drive.

"Well, Michael Bradley exhibited signs of extreme mental distress, many of them suggestive of suicide."

"But you don't think it was suicide, do you?" you say, before you can help it really, because your mind is running a hundred miles a minute right now.

Jungkook can sense it too, his eyes Bambi-wide and watching in fascination as the cogs turn in your analytical brain.

"No, I don't." It comes from Taehyung's mouth like a sigh. You don't see it (Jungkook does), but he's impressed.

"That's all I can say really," Taehyung says suddenly, sounding apologetic. "You'll have to speak with Mrs. Bradley about getting access, but talking about her husband is painful for her. And she's been through enough."

He cares about people, the ones he works on are not just bodies to him. Very good sign. You're coming to the conclusion than Dr. Kim is definitely a coroner worth his salt.

"I'll be sure to proceed delicately, then," you reply softly. You're trying to say it back. I care about these victims, this isn't just a case to me. Everyone has a story.

He seems to get it, nodding his head with a gentle smile. Something very small, almost ghostly, clicks between you.

Jungkook observes it all in a slight state of awe. He can already tell that the rest of them, his "family," are going to like you.

Taehyung gives you the copies of the autopsy reports, a sizable stack of folders and papers and photos. He even gives you a copy of the autopsy transcript.

You realize that he was prepared to give you this information before you even got here. Either Mayor Summerbee is a very persuasive person, or Dr. Kim is eager to work with you. Maybe both.

Your point is proven seconds later when Taehyung hands you a business card (with his personal number scrawled on the back), as he tells you that you're free to contact him with any questions you might have.

You profess your thanks with an armful of documents, making a point to shake Dr. Kim's and Jungkook's hand firmly.

Jungkook leads you back, his boots softly thudding with every step, and you can feel Taehyung's eyes on your back as you walk through down the long hallway.

Jungkook is kind. He offers to help you with the massive stack of documents in your arms, but you politely refuse. You've got liquid gold in your possession.

He holds the gate open for you, even offering to walk you to your car, but again, you decline and thank him for his offer.

The gate shuts behind you with a resonate clang. As you turn away from the house to begin the trek down the muddy hill, you feel an odd sensation, like tingling insects down your back.

Looking over your shoulder, you see the curtains of several windows suddenly fall back into place. Someone, several someone's, are watching you.

You can't find it in you to be creeped out, though. Something about this house, despite its run-down appearance, is welcoming. Beckoning, even.

It's dark and old and practically falling apart, but many things that you love also happen to have those same traits.

A slight smile tugs at your lips as you turn and make your way down the path. You'll have to find out more about this place.

"Again. She saw through my glamour again," Jungkook announces to the room, sounding slightly defeated.

"Don't worry, Kook. It's a solid spell, I checked it myself," Yoongi replies as he waters one of the endless houseplants adorning their home. Thanks to Yoongi himself, of course.

"She saw through mine too," Taehyung says, resolute. He's staring at the black and white checkered floor, deep in thought.

Everyone looks up at that.

"That proves it then," Namjoon says. "She has a heightened degree of sight."

"I wanna know why though," Yoongi interrupts in a sudden bout of passion. "She's human. Why is she able to see everything?"

"Not the house though," Jungkook blurts out. "The glamour on the house held up."

"Of course it did, the house magick is stronger than any of us," Jin quips from the kitchen, standing over a sizzling stove.

"Lots of humans have the sight," Jimin says lazily, sprawled out in one of the lounge chairs.

"Yeah, but it's the type of humans who turn it into a cheap gimmick," Jungkook replies, pacing around the room now.

Taehyung crosses the distance between them in a few strides, putting a large hand on Jungkook's shoulder. The younger man looks up at him, then lets out a breath and returns the smile.

"You're safe, Kook," Taehyung says softly. "No one's gonna put up a fuss."

Jimin chuckles. "She might."

Taehyung throws a scolding glance over his shoulder. "A real fuss, I mean. Everything's been kept under wraps so far."

"And she's not a phony, or a leech. The mayor made sure of that," Yoongi says.

"In any case," Jin begins, an authoritative edge to his voice. "Hoseok said to keep an eye on her, so that's just what we'll do."

september 28, 2004

You may be a damn good investigator, but you're no med student. So the next day you set out to the bookstore, determined to understand every last term and phrase in the autopsy reports.

The same man is behind the desk, but this time he's bent over a typewriter, clacking away. You can't help but observe him for a moment, watching as his dark eyes dart over the page, the way his glasses rest at the edge of his nose like a wizened old man.

"Welcome in," he calls out at the chime of the bell on the door, like an instinct.

You take a few steps into the ever-crowded space, your eyes shifting over all the things you missed the last time you were here. Because that's what kind of place this is, somewhere you could go a hundred times and find something new each visit. Places like this are quite dear to you.

You're about to examine a shelf full of perfectly preserved beetles, when you sense the man look up at you.

"Oh," he says, like he's pleasantly surprised. "It's you."

And you would be lying if you said it didn't make your gut feel something warm squirming inside it.

"Need help finding anything?" he asks, like he has every time you've visited this place.

"Yes, please," you reply, barely hiding your smile.

He leads you through the maze of shelves like it's a map of his own brain. Several times you have to hurry to catch up to him in his excitement.

Soon your arms are occupied by an impressive stack. Anatomy, general medical knowledge, crime scene identification, even a few textbooks on post-mortem examinations.

To you, it's more liquid gold. You profess your thanks to the bookshop keeper, dropping a generous tip into the jar when you go to checkout. Again, the books are almost too reasonably priced. Not that it matters, since research purchases are an easy business expense ride-off.

Just as you turn to leave, the man clears his throat awkwardly, like he's building himself up to speak.

"There's plenty of places to sit here," he almost blurts out. "Lots of cozy nooks. Perfect for...research."

You pause at the door to glance back at him. You find him watching you closely, his expression somewhere between innocently curious and suggestive of hidden knowledge on his part.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply, a little teasing lilt to your voice. Because clearly he enjoys your company too.

Then you turn on your heel and let the door swing shut behind you, leaving him wanting more.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would combust with joy if you'd tell me any of your thoughts :D

NEXT UPDATE: 05/25/24

[gladiatorcunt]

alsooo… food for thought! modern!coryo learning that you’re a virgin and what he’d be like when he gets to fuck you for the first time 😏😏

🍽️ SEND ME ASKS ABOUT CORYO, LUKE CASTELLAN, OR ANAKIN (THIS IS A THREAT)

CW: afab!reader, feminization/use of bride/reader's pussy is assigned she/her pronouns, extra extra political empire heir coriolanus snow in tears over pussy read all about it, fair amount of marriage talk, mentions of being willing to murder others & trap reader, mandatory sejanus mention, coryo puts on his person suit just for you <3, this is not the darkest point in the au but the au is "soft" dark content overall

One thing about modern!coryo is that he gives you much more grace than some of his other friends would have. (Festus is "rumored" to be carrying multiple stds and Felix's family has a whole section in their budget just for child support. Sejanus is the only one in that group that's kind of normal by comparison.) When you start dating, he can tell that you're inexperienced at least; but the green-eyed monster always on his shoulder doesn't let him fully believe that you're a virgin.

He's... patient unlike most college boys. He's horny beyond comprehension, but he doesn't latch onto you like a leech after the first date (He's so kind 😊). Sure, there's a festering need sweltering under his skin and boiling his blood, but he's no strange to playing the long game. To him, every time he fucks you is going to feel like your wedding night (Cause he's in this for MARRIAGE). You're the only one he would use the phrase "making love" with. Before you, every other whore that hung off his dick was just there because he was high on his status (and a couple other things). He apologizes about being with others before you as if he were actively cheating on you.

He'd pay to have them disappear if you wanted.

Anyway.

He finds out in a benign way; you're making out on your creaky twin bed in your dorm. (You hadn't moved in together at the time, so he had to settle for his long limbs awkwardly knocking against the wall and nightstand every time you were getting intimate.) He keeps the kiss going as he rises up on his knees and nudges you on your back. He shoots his hands out under your body to catch you just in case (and so you can't leave).

"Wait….” You say and bury your hands in his hair to try to pry his mouth off of your neck, “Coryo, stop. I need a second."

He almost pouts but he relents and moves back to hover over you. Some of his curls dangle down and tickle your face but you just scrunch your nose up like a bunny at the feeling.

His brow furrows in confusion, "What is it, baby? Are you okay?"

You squirm under his body for a moment in embarrassment until you decide to just rip the band aid off. You run your hands up his torso and over his shoulders, curling them around the nape of his neck and giving him the little head scratches he likes. His eyes flutter shut as electricity shoots up his body.

"I'm uh...... I've never done this before, ever." He barely hears it with how quietly you whisper.

He can't help teasing you in response, "Baby, you can just say that you're a virgin if that's what you are."

He chuckles when you "playfully" smack him in the chest. Coryo makes sure you can watch his gaze soften as he brings a hand up to tuck some of your hair behind your ear. You've given him a gift, and Coriolanus Snow is nothing if not an avid appreciator or gifts. He leans down to rub the side of your nose with his, bringing his other hand down to press on your lower belly.

"Petal... I don't care that you're a virgin, we don't have to do anything today. I won't mind, don't worry."

He can see your brain working hard to make a decision, the cogs in your cute little head turning. You don't bite you lip for very long (which is a good thing because his dick was about to explode) before you're canting up to kiss him.

You've gotten a lot better at it overtime, and Coryo has adored every second of helping you get to that place. He's never been in love before so it's almost like you're teaching him new things too. He wonders if this is how his father felt, only having room in your heart for one person and closing it to everything else. He almost can't blame him, now that he's got you.

It was all going so well until he's wrestling your lace down your smooth legs, he's pressing tiny little pecks along your skin as your underwear travels. He doesn't quite take them off and just leaves them pooled around your ankles. The material stretches as he slides his hands up your inner thighs and spreads them.

You give him your best 'do NOT fucking rip my underwear' look but he just sends back an answering 'you know I'll buy you new ones.'

The puffy pussy that winks up at him makes him want to cry. Aphrodite could come down to earth right now and bend over right in front of him, but all he'd see is his future wife's glistening folds. He'd never really found a cunt cute before, but yours was bringing forward yet another wave of cuteness aggression. You have no hope of getting through to him once he's got his thumb hooked under your hood. He honest to God coos as he gently scrapes his thumb nail against your clit.

The giddy laugh that bubbles up when you involuntarily kick at him makes your cheeks heat up in what is unfortunately not embarrassment.

"Shit." He sniffles and wipes away an actual tear as he tilts his head to the side to get a different angle, "She's beautiful..."

It's the same tone he'll have when he says his vows.

Coryo then decides that he's tired of waiting so he tugs your panties off your ankles and uncaringly throws them somewhere on the floor. He smiles and lays down in between your legs, leaving some space in between your bodies so he could see where you two will be joined.

His curls hang in your face again as he leans down to nip at your nose, so you won't really notice when he shoves his pants down.

You can't hide how much you want to see all of him, he watches you glance down at his hard cock that slapped against his stomach as it flopped free. Despite Coryo obviously not having the biggest build in the world, the third leg he's been apparently carrying around all this time is more than enough for him (and for you). It's an angry sort of purplish red, thick and long like his fingers with a mushroom head that might as well have been calling your name.

"My eyes are up here, you know." He chides you as he gets your attention back on him by shaking his hefty cock in his balled fist, getting drops of salty pre cum on your pussy before sandwiching it between your folds.

He blissfully sighs and tosses his head back as if he were a king celebrity a long-awaited victory with a toe-curling fuck.

Essentially, he's like "fresh pussy just for me 👉👈🥺?” He's sat right at the dining table and ready to dive into his favorite three-course meal (your holes).

[vrystalius]

GENERAL HC: demons usually have nests, not traditional like straw and fur nests but little tucked away areas they tend to guard.

Muzan and Kokushibo’s nests are in the infinity castle

Douma’s nest is very comfortable. Very demure. (He tears up pillows and goes apeshit. And then makes his cult members clean up and make a larger pillow for him. Because beds are for basic bitches)

Akaza probably has his nest in the infinity castle too, but he’s a bit more secretive, and prob has somewhere else

Gyutaro has his nest in the red district, (it’s filled with bones and all trinkets he likes.)

(Hantengu + clones bc I LOVE THEM) they probably have a nest in the infinity castle since he and his clones need separate areas to keep them from strangling each other… but JANEHWJ

Urogi has a more traditionally bird nest (he steals shit and makes it into his BED)

Sekido just has a bed. Shames everyone else for having a messy nest

Karaku’s nest is very soft. DO NOT BELIEVE HIM THERES SOME FREAKY SHIT IN TYERE- I know he told me :3

Aizetsu’s nest is a few rocks. He feels he doesn’t deserve a proper nest. (Get him some damn pillows. It’s causing back pain for everyone)

ENMU MY LOVE, his nest is inside the train station, idk the word but it’s where all the trains go when not in use, it’s very comfy! No sunlight, he probably uses train lights to illuminate for his human mate

TURNING HC’S (TW HUMAN EATING MENTION)

Muzan isn’t used to being gentle, and seeing his former human mate in such pain to become a demon like him. He has all his servants tend to them; Kokushibo at the door guarding, Douma out going to get nesting supplies for the newly formed demon liege, Akaza getting human meat for them. Fun stuff! 🤩 he throws a massive festival for his new demon spouse. (It’s an excuse to execute random demons)

Kokushibo has a smaller situation, he brings you a small personal feast, (well hidden human meat so you don’t feel guilty) and goes to some people to have them make human meals (just with human meat instead of beef) and personally brings you his nesting materials

Douma has everyone in the cult, and has a sacrifice for your “ascension” (cult bullshit to explain demons) and how you’d need to be quarantined for awhile (cuddles while you calm down from bloodlust) and you two eat the sacrifice

Akaza calms you by taking you out with him. Probably uses a muzzle so you stop biting him… he doesn’t try and keep you contained so much, just supervising so you don’t hurt yourself… or get caught-

Gyutaro has you and Daki in his nest, pampering you both and is hopeful his sister approves of his mate, power wise and demon appearance. (She’s just excited to have another demon to talk too dw)

Hantengu and his clones are waiting on you hand and FOOT, his clones’ mate shall have the same respect as Muzan, since Muzan chose you to be his demon mate.

Enmu puts you to sleep while this happens, easing the growing pains and hunger, you wake up basically the same just a demon bc of the dreams he gave you. 10/10 very nice.

This was very long 👍

I took pictures just in case if tumblr ate this.

This was so good!! I keep thinking about clawing and skinning Douma during the transformation while he just giggles and laughs loudly. Also, I love the nests- Gyutaro’s would probably stink of decay while Daki’s is the most prestige and comfortable. Only the most expensive fabrics and jewrely is allowed to come even near her nest.

I’m not the biggest fan of Hangengu’s clones, but Urogi stealing things for you and dropping it off at his nest, or trying to feed you foods he stole out of people’s hands like a seagull seems super funny to me XD

Also, I think Enmu tried more than once to nest inside a train but never could decide wich one to settle in since his favourite train model changes almost every week and it would be exhausting to change nests so many times, so probably decided to stay near or inside the busiest train station he could find. And yes, he will kick his feet in delight when watching a train pass by or stop to let passengers in.

Akaza probably is letting you chew and rip his forearms apart as much as you like during your transformation, he literally doesn’t care. Also, he’ll probably try to convince you to don’t eat women as well, but doesn’t mind if you eat them anyway. As long as you’re happy and fed.

I can see Muzan getting ashamed of nesting. He’s the demon kind and supposed to above such animalistic behaviours, but he can’t help to hoard the finest and highest grade pillows/blanket. He likes it comfortable and prestige. Muzan would probably spray some cologne over all of it as well to make sure it smells divine, just like him.

Muzan is probably being a little annoyed at how long your transformation is going. He’s gonna stand there, tapping his foot and checking his watch. He might even get worried and check you for any signs of a bad transformation.

Perhaps I should write more headcanons, those are fun!

[bonezone44]

IMAGINE:

Ezra joins the Triple Frontier boys for a mission. He finds Frankie alone one night, sitting by himself. He snuggles up real close, shows him a special toy he brought to keep him company on the long trip. It's a fleshlight. Ezra describes the features of it, using his finger to caress the rubbery folds before plunging it into the tight hole--an action that causes Frankie to tense up with a quiet gasp.

"I have pleasured myself with this many times over," Ezra smirks, his face inches from Frankie's. "Perhaps you'd like to experience the delight of this bauble for yourself?"

Frankie's fingers dig trenches into his knees. He swallows a thick wad of spit. "I-I-I don't know--"

Ezra's free hand tugs gently on the waistband of Frankie's pants. "I can provide a personal demonstration if you'd like?"

Frankie's face has gone red, his eyes searching Ezra's in a panic. He briefly glances at the door of the room.

"Don't worry about them," Ezra says with his eyes locked on Frankie's. "They're more than occupied for the time being."

Frankie's mouth has been hanging open the entire time they've been talking and when he tries to speak again, it's very raspy. "O-okay."

Ezra's smirk grows wider as he undoes Frankie's pants and pulls his hardening cock out. He glances down. "Nice cock you have there, soldier boy. Let's see if we can fit inside this tight little hole, hmm?" He slowly brings the fleshlight down on Frankie's hardness.

There was already lube inside of it, Frankie realizes as he's engulfed in tight moisture. Ezra had prepared it--either for himself or for Frankie, he's not sure. But he finds sweet relief in the sensation nonetheless. He closes his eyes but he can still feel the heat of Ezra’s breath on his cheek.

"Feels good, don't she?" Ezra asks, not expecting much of a reply as he guides the toy up and down, jerking off Frankie with smooth movements. Ezra chuckles at Frankie's fervent nod. "Almost as good as a real wet cunt, huh?"

"Yeah," Frankie gasps out and wipes the sweat beading on his forehead. "'S good," he stutters.

"Always glad to assist a brother in need." Ezra grins.

Frankie bites his lip, his brows furrow deep.

Ezra wraps his free arm around Frankie's shoulder and begins to pepper him with kisses along his neck, cheek, and into his hair. "Soldier boy like you works himself to the bone, don't he?" His slides the toy along Frankie's cock a little faster. "Gives every bit of himself until there's nothing left? Until he's all empty?" Ezra tuts. "Poor thing. Must be hard giving to everybody but yourself." He hums. "You're a good boy, 'Fish. And don't let anybody tell you any different."

Frankie starts panting. His face is somehow even redder than before. He grips Ezra's arm, not to stop him, but to simply ground himself in Ezra's body and presence.

Ezra maintains his pace. The squelching inside the toy is quiet, but audible. He wishes it were his own skin wrapped around Frankie's cock, but he figured the toy was a useful buffer--in case Frankie rebuffed his advances. But now that he's seen Frankie's reactions, he knows he'll be swallowing Frankie's loads before the mission ends and they all part ways.

"I'm gonna--" Frankie stutters.

"Good, soldier boy. I want you to. Want you to leave your spend inside to grease my own endeavor towards satisfaction. Come on, soldier boy. You deserve it. You do. You work so hard. You deserve to feel so good--"

Frankie comes quietly, releasing himself inside the toy. His whole body relaxes. His eyes are bleary.

Ezra pulls the toy off of Frankie's softening cock, causing Frankie to whimper.

"My turn," Ezra smirks.

[existentialgaybirdnerd]

Bad habits from the 141

Ghost:

Knife tricks, he will be bored and with nothing to do and will just start flipping knives and doing shit with them no one else has seen. This has caused numerous occasions where a dumb recruit decided they could do it better than him and sliced some fingers.

Picky with how his sandwiches are made, the meat has to be on the very top unless there's provolone cheese, will take apart any premade sandwiches to change how it is placed. No one knows why, he just does it and will give no explanation.

Skin picks. If he finds something different on his arms or his hands or his neck or his face, he'll see if he can pick it off. Be it a scab or a chunk of dirt or a pimple, he'll mess with it either until it bleeds or it's gone.

Soap:

Plays with bombs??? He literally just takes explosive putty and turns it into shapes like it's Play-Doh. He's safe about it, but holy shit you can't just pull a bomb out of nowhere and hand it to someone as a joke when they ask for a wrench or something.

Will drink coffee obsessively. It doesn't really affect him all too much, but if he's got free time where he CAN have coffee, he WILL have coffee. He can go to sleep right after coffee and be ok, but he can also "accidentally" drink like 20 cups in a day because he's bored. He has stomach issues very often when he does this ofc but it doesn't stop him.

Bites his nails. Will go at a nail until it bleeds, particularly when he's nervous or bored. He keeps himself occupied drawing or journaling just to avoid going to town on his nails.

Gaz:

Lays in bed all day when he has nothing to do. Literally will wait until the last second to go to the bathroom during these times and won't move except for that and for getting into more comfy positions. He has a snack stash that literally no one can find in his room, so he doesn't even need to leave for food, he just sits and lays there watching stuff and doom scrolling on his phone.

Eats salads one ingredient at a time. Will find every piece of lettuce in the salad and eat it and then go on to the next ingredient. He thinks this is how salads are meant to be eaten. He doesn't even separate the ingredients, he just picks them out around the other stuff, even when it's got dressing on it.

Listens to music obsessively. Will sit in the most serious meetings with one earbud in, somehow hidden, and listen to the music while passively taking in the information unless it's a super serious meeting. If it's a cut-and-dry "get in, get out" or information grab, he gives no shits and simply watches what's being projected for them to see (maps, details, plans, etc.)

Price:

Smoking ofc, but what a lot don't know is that he went from cigarettes to cigars in his early 20s and still slips onto cigarettes sometimes when he's super stressed. It tastes different and wakes him up whereas cigars are heavy smoke and calm him down.

If he's got mashed potatoes of any sort, they HAVE to be mixed with vegetables, he refuses to eat them otherwise. It's not a bad habit perse, but his refusal to even look at mashed potatoes unless there's a vegetable such as peas or corn makes it a stubborn issue no one in the world can change his mind on. If he gets an MRE with mashed potatoes and no vegetables, he'll either negotiate getting someone else's vegetables or simply give them the mashed potatoes.

Picks at his nails. Thinks it's gross to bite at them, but they get chipped and bother him by snagging on things so he'll pick at the inconsistency and make it worse then keep picking. Ghost gets him a small nail file he can put in his phone case to keep with him so he doesn't need to continue getting frustrated at his nails.

Laswell:

Doesn't sleep. Will get maybe 4-5 hours out of a day and will stay up for hours in the middle of the night because she's following a lead or researching something that caught her attention 5 days ago.

Refuses root vegetables and will fight someone if she finds one in her food. Again, not much of a bad habit, but the fighting is. Once threw down at a family gathering because someone (a particularly stubborn aunt who hated this habit) snuck a cut-up carrot in her food and only her food. She was 16.

Reorganizes her desk and office once a week. You wouldn't think this would be a problem or even a bad habit until you realize she puts stuff in such different locations each time that she can't shit. She never learns from this and jokes that it makes her life more fun when she finds the stapler actually under the desk.

[daandyli0n]

(warnings: blood/mild gore, implied child death (and murder in Cassidy's case), eye contact. maybe also bright colors/eyestrain)

Some Updated Refs For The Afton Family In The Rewrite

(you know the drill, click the images to see details better and whatnot)

hooo boy. give me a minute to ramble about the designs and stuff below -

William:

so. tried to give him both "Eccentric, Goofy Restaurant Owner" and "REALLY Off-Putting" Vibes. hope i succeeded

yes he's hiding a knife behind his back.

bunny features. i Love William with bunny features. if you draw William with Bunny Features ily (platonically)

this man has not gotten a good night's sleep in Years.

now...you may be wondering: Why Do His Kids Get Refs For When They're Older, But Not Him? well...that's because, physically, he doesn't change much besides getting some more gray hairs and worse eye bags in the over a decade between his original murders and his death. and i've already done a ref for what O'Hare/Springtrap looks like in my design

yes, the Unhinged look in his eyes is intentional.

Alex:

gave his younger self a pose that was meant to give off "rebellious teenager" vibes, and his older self a pose that gives off "bitter and anxious" vibes.

gave him long hair. because Yes.

tallest of his siblings.

Michael:

looks like his father, but with a few minor changes: skin is mildly more tanned than his father, hair is a lighter shade of brown, etc.

William based the 1987 uniforms for the guards/employees off of his own usual outfit (Purple. which Backfired).

Mike tried to change his hair a bit to distinguish himself from his father, mostly by dying it a bright red and trying to cut the Bunny Ear-Shaped parts on the top of his hair to be more jagged and less Bunny-Like.

scars on his arm are from where Springtrap grabbed onto him.

Evan:

not much to say. bookworm, sad guy, probably needs to go to therapy for what happened in his childhood.

Elizabeth:

Bunny Features :]

she's basically somewhere between blonde and ginger hair color wise. i'd describe her as a strawberry blonde.

constantly has a wide-eyed look. like a hare.

mismatched socks, just because she could.

ghosts are typically either desaturated or transparent, with the only bright colors on them are usually their eyes or the bloody wounds from their death.

so while it's not shown here, "fun" fact! Liz died from where Harriet (Circus Baby) hugged her hard enough to break not just her spine, but her neck as well. (the hug was so strong due to Harriet malfunctioning that day)

all ghosts who have their souls tied to an animatronic have a mask of that animatronic that they can wear if they wish. Liz's mask is of Harriet.

Cassidy:

my baby boy. my beloved <3

those pants are pajama pants. he wore them everywhere.

while not visible, Cassidy also wears mismatched socks like Liz.

the Fredbear plush was a gift from Henry, given to Cassidy by Charlie.

was blind in one eye after The Bite.

The Bite wasn't as horrible as people think it was. what basically happened was that the teeth bit slightly into his head, which caused the bleeding, as well as some cracking in the skull and brain damage in his frontal lobe. due to the mechanisms in Fredbear being Very hot as well, it caused some burns. nothing that couldn't heal, but...it Was still pretty serious.

while The Bite itself didn't kill Cassidy, he still, as a ghost, appears to have a bleeding section of his head.

the strangulation marks on his neck are more visible as a ghost.

Cassidy, as a spirit, can occasionally leak a mysterious black fluid from his eyes and mouth, which is reflected on his Mask.

Cassidy is transparent as a ghost.

anyway!! here's the guys!!

@that-darn-clown @hello-there-world

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - A Vega-Bond Space Case

@a-closet-emo @Anguished-Lurker @library-of-cronos @ghostboidanny @lexosaurus @uniasus @redactedgoose

Danny has a thing for space, always had, except now his ‘thing’ for space was more like actually physically BEING space. Danny’s also always had a thing for NASA, these two things were of course related since NASA’s entire thing was space, except now NASA also has a thing for Danny

Danny didn’t exactly have a ton of ways to go about being within his ‘domain’ as it were or satisfying that pesky little obsession of his. Yes he could go star gazing or literally fly up into space, which was great and all, but no matter how much you love and feel fulfilled by something it’s still good and needed to spice things up a bit. ClockWork subtly messed with the time stream in harmless, to time and the future, ways. Nocturne gave people nightmares even though that did disrupt their ability to sleep. Undergrowth went and ‘adopted a kid’ aka Sam to ‘raise someone worthy’ even though there was no need.

In short, everyone occasionally did something different and new.

So, Danny figured he should too. After all, he was still somewhat human and humans get bored and burnt out a lot easier and quicker. And Danny getting bored and burnt out meant an Obsessive crisis or two, which he’d rather avoid thank you very much. So he figured he‘d try something completely new, a way of being all ✨Space✨ by simply talking about it instead of staring at it or being physically surrounded by it. And by talking he means online, because he is not going to attempt to become a science teacher just to talk about space at bored teenagers or something. Sure him starting a vlog to excitedly blab about space was probably pretty silly, and sure he could also use the term vtuber since he used a 3d model to attempt to hide his identity, and sure he didn’t exactly expect many people to care; but it was nice. The 3d model was a fun little project for him and Tuck, and Sam had enjoyed picking out the things quirky clothing, and watching it move to his facial features and voice was really cool. It was almost like getting to listen to someone else blabber about space, which was super nice even if they weren’t actually even a real person or saying anything he hasn’t said before. It’s not like anyone could actually tell him something he didn’t already know anyways.

What Danny hadn’t expected was for his stupid little white-haired (because of course), shark-toothed, sparkly-skinned, virtual model vlog channel to actually do well. Like yes, some of his stuff was shorter clips, more ‘digestible’ as Jazz would say, but most of it was hours of knowledge vomit with breaths usually only taken for comedic effect. Then again, he was obsessed with space before he half died and it literally became his Obsession or before he became the literal god of space; so there was bound to be regular humans who actually did want to watch a five hour video about the composition of Jupiter’s rings and how it having slightly different compositions would change it. He’s still baffled that that video has over one million views, he’s also very thankful he went the 3d model route. He’s also thankful he still finds the channel name he picked funny: Vega-bond, after the North Star and based off of the word vagabond, since space was endless so his home as a being was effectively everywhere and nowhere and he could wander it’s and his own vastness forever. It had also caused some ‘James bond in space’ jokes though, even if he’s never actually see all those movies it was still funny.

Leaning back in his chair and editing a couple more seconds of a clip, taking a bite out of his sandwich and scowling. Ew. He really should learn to stop letting Jazz make food for him. Not only was she just as bad at cooking as he was, possibly worse actually, but she kept putting ectoplasm in his food! Intentionally or not, he doesn’t care. The sandwich goes back on the plate, he’ll get crackers later, right now he’s got a bit on asteroid turn over rates to fix. He’s also pretty sure this is the video where he goes on a bit of a tangent about the flavour of space rocks and what a star would most likely taste like to someone if they were able to eat one. Which fine, not the smartest thing to be talking about in a public form like this but hey, that hasn’t bit him in the ass yet. That Absentiona planet a few galaxies over was way too cool not to talk about okay! At least it seemed like a lot of people either thought he was theorising or that he actually worked with a space program and had been given permission to use the internet to educate people, since most people were not spending their time reading all of NASA’s public reports like he was.

…

Danny was also reading their not public reports of course, a great use of Tuck’s hacking skills if he says so himself. He left most of the internal memos alone since those were near always personell stuff and seldom related to space. (Which was something he was going to regret deeply later or maybe not). He did try to make a point to not talk about missions that hadn’t yet been made public or recent human discoveries that NASA hasn’t yet had a chance to publish their papers and internal memos on, Danny wasn’t trying to accidentally get people accused of plagiarism or rip away months to years of research away from the people who figured it out by stealing their thunder. But he’d get excited and he couldn’t bring himself to cut out stuff after the fact.

So sue him if he’s maybe stolen someone’s thunder once or twice, and maybe talked about things that humans would have never discovered, or things that humans don’t have the physical capability to comprehend. Hopefully no one tries to actually sue him though, if NASA does that he’s positive he’ll ugly cry for, like, a week.

Hearing Jazz footsteps up the stairs he tilts his head back, “Jazz! Neither of us can cook! Including with freaking ectoplasm! Stop trying!”.

She pokes her head into his room with a huff, eyes the sandwich with a single bite taken out of it, “I refuse. I will figure out a way to make it work, you need it”.

“What I need is for my food to be edible and not have definitely old and corrupted ecto in it”.

She winces, “damn. You know I can’t tell that”.

“Then stop trying!”.

“No!”.

Danny picks up the sandwich and makes throwing motions with it, he doesn’t actually throw it because he’ll probably give her a damn ecto-burn with the thing. It’s a miracle it hasn’t started moving on its own yet. she comes in anyways and grabs the plate, putting a hand on her hip and holding it out for him to put the sandwich back down on, “I’ll throw this one in the incinerator, Danny, but I’m not stopping”.

He releases the sandwich, “you suck”.

She rolls her eyes at him and eyes the computer, smiling a little, “I’m not even going to ask, since I can’t grasp your space babble any more than you can grasp my psycho babble”.

Danny snorts, shaking his head as she leaves, his sister cares but damn was it ever inconvenient and hazardous to his health. He was a freaking Ancient after all, he could get by without freaking ectoplasm, he wasn’t some weak level six ghost; stupid cravings or no. Heck, he wasn’t even a child ghost anymore so it was even less necessary! Sighing, “she’s still not going to give it a rest, is she?”.

And then his email pings. Oh cool, it’s probably another comment since it looks like it’s from his channel linked email.

It is an email.

It’s an email from NASA.

Holy shit.

By all the Ancients including himself and every single one of their domains. What the zone?!?

He’s pretty sure he actually squeaked and started floating, some little stars might have even appeared in the air.

What should he do?!? Should he open it?!? Should he ask Tuck to hack it so that the message won’t read as read?!? Should he attempt to knock himself out so he doesn’t have to deal with this?!? Should he take that sandwich back purely so he can give himself a horrific upset stomach with it?!?

It’s fucking NASA!

He can’t just… not. Like, even if that was a good idea he absolutely has to know what NASA wants!

He’s not freaking out, you’re freaking out. He should call someone right?!?

Yes.

Yeah.

He should.

Purely so he doesn’t violently click open the email in Obsession fuelled glee and horror. Tuck doesn’t even get a chance to ask what’s up, “NASA fucking emailed me, man. What do I do?!? Like it’s totally NASA, right email and everything and it’s totally to my vlog email so oh my zone that means that NASA, FREAKING NASA, has been watching my shit! Is this good is this bad should I be complimented? Do they want to talk space or tell me to shut up about space! What am I going to do if they want me to shut up about space I can’t shut up about space and why would I shut up about space! Wait what if they have a space problem and I can like totally help with that shit and they think I’m some odd expert and not some random dude in small town USA! What if they think I’m one of their men and are going to try and give me shit for spilling space secrets because oh shit I’m pretty sure no one actually released that new shit about plutos gravitational pull which is super neat and all but what if they’re mad-”

“Danny man, shut up before you start speaking in tongues or something”

Danny doesn’t even hear him honestly, “-because I could totally understand them being mad but it’s not like I’m actually stepping on their turf since their turf is actually my turf and I’m technically only letting them in it because I can and because people knowing and learning about space is like super cool and I totally would still love to be an astronaut even if that is totally not possible for so many damn reasons! But wait what if that’s what they want that would be so cool! Even if I know that’s not how they hire people and even if I totally disagree with their choice of head engineer because he seems kind of like an ass but hey I’m kinda an ass and I’d be great at the job and oh fuck what if I ignore this for too long and they send another email what do I do then-”

“DANNY!”.

Danny jerks a little bit and falls from the ceiling nearly face planting into his floor, “oh I ah, whoops. Sorry Tuck, it’s just space and NASA and what if they emailed me about space and of course they emailed me about space they’re freaking NASA and my channel is about space we can totally talk space-”.

“I’m going to have Sam show up and throw her shoe at you if you don’t chill, man. I can’t give you advice or offer to try and help, if you won’t let me speak”.

Danny curling into himself and breathing a little, putting a hand over his shirt to feel the way his core is pulsing like crazy, “right, shit, just, give me one second to just vibrate my shit out”.

“Of course, I’m going to hack your email to at least give you a heads up if you should be actually worried”.

Danny wheezing, stars just sort of popping into existence around him, “yeah, yeah, that’s good”; he fiddles with one of the little stars like is a fidget toy. He always loved the way they felt, and tasted, and they just looked stupidly wonderful. Even if he had to be careful about it since him ‘getting starry’ could be hard on people’s eyes. Forming a little planetary ring and swirling it around with his fingers, “how do I even respond to NASA without coming off as crazy?”.

“Do not word vomit? Don’t tell them you’re a space god? Don’t get mad at them for getting something wrong?”.

Danny blinks, twirling the planetary ring around his finger, “so everything I’m inclined to do? Gotcha”.

“Dude”.

“Well what if they ask for my credentials? What else do I have besides acing flight simulators and being a literal god?!?”.

“You do have a point there, but you’re actually good. They aren’t trying to sue or silence you, they aren’t attacking your credibility, they aren’t accusing you of running an illegal space operation, they aren’t questioning if you’re an alien, and they aren’t commenting on you basically having a backdoor into their systems”, he chuckles, “you absolutely should open it, man. Stay on the line because I want to hear you cry”.

Oh? Oh no why would Danny cry??? But Tuck giving him a verbal thumbs up means he can’t not open it right?

He’s stares at the computer and it’s unread email for a while. He’s nearly vibrating out of his skin, he’s pretty sure one of his arms has unfurled as he likes to call it. Spread out into goo strings and pulsating constellations of eyes and teeth, gaps in between filled with galaxy’s and miniature planets that could barely be called an arm with fingers with hundreds of joints that could be long as trees if he let them; as it was they were wrapping around his desk he thinks.

He opens the damn email.

It’s…

It’s a freaking job offer and Danny basically explodes into galaxy’s and constellations and eyes and teeth and bits of different animals, and what comes out of his mouth is utter ghost speak gibberish and random space noises even to his ears. He has to fold his legs and feet under him because they’re just too long when he’s like this, all of him is but his legs are the most needlessly long, but he doesn’t drop the phone at least.

Then Jazz bangs open the door, “Danny what the hell! Oh why!”, and promptly passes out. He manages to catch her with his tail before she hits the ground at least, he forgets that he can be incomprehensible like this if whoever isn’t prepared. He’ll just leave her lying on the fluffy cloud space dust that made up the ‘fluff fur’ at the end of his tail till she wakes up.

Him whining immediately, “T̶͈͎͚͗͗ù̴̢̜͝c̴͖̯͐̔͜k̸̲͇̹̅͑͠ ̶̛̲̀̎I̵͕̔̆ ̴̞̘̌̌̃k̸̦͚̲̎n̸̳͛o̴̟̎c̷̩̕k̶̗͍̽͛̈́ͅe̶̢̛͍̐d̷͎̞͒ ̶̞̞̆̓̕J̵̦̭̤̽ȁ̶̰̖̈́͘z̸̧͇̼͝ẓ̴̹̳̇̑̇ ̵̟͌̈̀o̵̡̝̅ṵ̷̚t̴̺̣͒̓̈́͜!”, and attempting to keep his voice not filled with the sound of dying stars.

Tuck laughs at least, “at this point she should know what she might be in for! You all space lovercraftian jerboa looking?”.

“D̶͙̪̃͠ủ̸̦̕d̵̜̑̔̒ę̴̛̥̻̒ ̶̜̊ͅǸ̵̞̐A̴̤͛͒̃S̸̢̓͗A̸͚̩̿,̴͉̊̔ ̸͂̋̅͜N̶̡̥͇̏A̵͍̐̌͘Ṡ̸͕͛̽Ã̷̯̫!̸̯̩͎̓̇̕,̷̳̈́ ̶̭̥̗̏i̷̥̘̻̐s̵͉͉̹̈͂͐ ̴͖̃͛t̶̘̚r̷͚̀̈́y̸͈͚̕ǐ̵̡ǹ̴͓g̵̣͇̱̚ ̶͖̕ṱ̶̝̫̈̂ö̶̻̲́̌͜ ̵̠̠̑ḩ̴̣̅̆͊i̷͎̠̤͌r̷͈̻͐̀͠e̶̡̮̽̀̈ ̶̡͕͒m̶̧̧̬͒é̷̺͙̈!̸̜̀ ̷̳͒͆Ỏ̸̳͖̰f̴̟̩̈́ ̵̼̔c̵̨͚̅̄͊ǒ̸̺̥̊ͅủ̴͇̬͎ŕ̵̳ṡ̸̟̼̪͋̿ȩ̸̢́͆̈́ ̵̢͔͗͒İ̵̪̦͒ ̷̟͎͉̈́̎â̶̺̭̥m̴̮̄!̵̘̰͛͜ ̴̠̀͠D̶̙͆o̶̠̬͂ͅ ̴̟͕̻̃̅͂t̷͖̦̳̃̂̈́h̷̜̣͊̏ē̴̡y̶̦̙̜͐͗̇ ̴͍̞̉́ͅk̴̗͗n̶̹̒ǒ̵̼̲̬̄̈́w̴̥̄̆ ̶̣̞̂̈w̶̢̧̝͗̕h̶͕͇̓̉͘e̶̳͎̎̅ͅr̵͕̊͆ĕ̷͚̮̾͝ ̶̡̭͊͒Í̴͇͝͝ ̶̦̤̔͂̚l̶͚̦͕̔͝i̴̺̍̄̑v̸̫̎̚͝ė̶̼͔̓͛ ̷̫̥̆o̶̩̍͘͠r̸̮̹͛ ̴̩͔̣͗̍̈́m̵̨̯̲̍y̷̮̤̖̌̾̾ ̵̯̜̈́a̵̪͇̐͝g̸̭͖̋ẽ̶͇ ̶͖͆w̶̔͜h̶͕̖̘͆̒̎y̶͕͇̾ ̸̬̠̈́d̴̰̈́o̷͇̽͒͘ë̴͈̭́s̶̺̭̈́ͅ ̸̜̇͆̌ḯ̷ͅt̷̪̗̩̔̿̇ ̴͖͈̼̄̊͋l̸̛̲͈͐̆ͅǒ̷̡̗ͅö̸̥́̍͆ḱ̷̭̟̪̈́̑ ̵̬̻̈́͘ͅl̴͕̙̞̐i̵̲̥̔̇̕k̶̛̫̎ê̶̼͙ ̴̫͌̑̆t̷̤̀̾ͅh̶̠̻̳͂̏e̸̛̺̣̬͂̾y̶̫̾̊ ̸͖̗̖̓͒̇d̸̮͈͆̿̏o̶̧͇̽͒͝n̶̖̈́’̷̡͔̮́̏t̴̛̙͑͝ ̶̡̰͋ȇ̷͓̘v̷̙̈́͠ͅe̸̡̙͍͠ṅ̴̰̚ ̴̠̦̾̈͛c̴̤̘͖͗̉̽a̵͔͑̚r̵̢͔̫̽́̒e̶̼̕ ̸̥̘͒̈́͐ͅá̶͎͝b̴̧͚̞̂ő̴̟̕͠ü̴̱̐͌t̶͔̻̙͒ ̵̹̳͉͂̉̉á̶̠̯̚͜ṅ̶̦̜̈́ẏ̶̛̪͙͘ ̴̢̥͖̈́c̷͙̓̈́́r̷̜̳͖͑ḕ̴͉̣̂͜d̸̲̬̒̊͝ę̸͕̋̾̏n̷̺̤̂t̴̤̐̽͋i̸͍͕̻͌̒ả̴̘̝͑ͅl̸̺͎̅̾̈š̶̻͚́̒”

“Danny chill, I can’t actually understand you and you’re going to wreck my phones speaker, I’m taking that mess as a yes and do you really think they’ll hire you if you can’t keep yourself together? I’m pretty sure they can’t let a horror monster onto a spaceship”.

Damn Tuck always knew how to cool him down quickly, he doesn’t compact himself back to ‘normal’ though just squishes down enough that he’s not knocking anything over or making the ceiling creak. Moving that tail that Jazz is still on so it and her are laying on his bed, “r̵i̷g̸h̶t̴,̷ ̴r̵i̸g̶h̴t̶,̷ ̸y̶e̷a̵h̶ ̶t̴h̷a̷t̵,̶ ̴t̷h̸a̴t̸ ̵w̴o̸u̷l̷d̶n̵’̸t̴ ̷g̵o̴ ̵o̴v̵e̶r̸ ̸w̴e̴l̷l̴”̵”.

“No kidding. Now did you put a hole through anything with your horns?”:

Danny glances around, it didn’t look like it at least. Plus Tuck didn’t call them goddamn bunny ears for a change, regardless of how similar they looked. “N̶o̶,̸ ̸d̴o̵n̷’̸t̵ ̷t̴h̷i̵n̴k̸ ̸s̶o̶”.

“You’re getting better! Congrats! Now are you going to try and take this job? Can you even type with your fingers right now?”.

Danny looking back to the computer and the email on screen, he has to really curl and bend his joints up and one of his shoulders is going past the entire computer but he can manage, “t̵h̴e̸r̸e̷'̵s̵ ̷n̵o̵ ̴w̵a̵y̴ ̸I̷ ̷c̴a̵n̴’̶t̷ ̵a̷t̷ ̷l̸e̸a̶s̵ ̵t̵r̷y̸,̴ ̷T̷u̷c̴k̴,̷ ̵a̵n̸d̴ ̴b̴a̴r̵e̷l̷y̶ ̶b̴u̵t̸ ̴y̷e̸s̷”.

“Alright then shoot your shot, man. Just try not to give away that you’re an eldritch horror”.

Danny can t help but grin, his teeth and lips swirling and curling on the sides of his face like galaxies, “t̷h̶a̸n̷k̴ ̷T̵u̸c̵k̸,̴ ̸s̸o̴r̶r̴y̵ ̴i̷f̶ ̷I̴ ̵f̴u̷c̶k̶e̴d̵ ̸u̶p̴ ̴y̸o̴u̸r̷ ̵p̸h̵o̵n̸e̵ ̴a̸g̵a̵i̷n̷”.

“Think nothing of it, Danny, not only do I expect it but I legit do not mind at all. I’ll take my best friend getting a hella awesome job offer that makes him go eldritch nightmare fuel on my ear drums over impromptu rescue mission any day”, Tuck laughing as he hangs up.

Man is Danny ever glad he called his goddamn best friend. The message he sends back to FREAKING NASA is excited but not overly crazy. He doesn’t go on a tangent, he only hits the wrong keys a few times and has to fix it, he doesn’t accidentally break anything, and he doesn’t mention anything that he knows NASA doesn’t know about. Yes he wants the job, yes that would be very awesome, yes he promises he has the capability, yes yes yes. Oh he’s vibrating again and a couple of his stars that comprise up part of his knee explode and reform.

Jazz groaning makes him still, moving a hand to have two finger tips over her eyes, “s̶o̷r̸r̴y̷,̴ ̴t̸o̵o̷ ̴e̶x̴c̷i̷t̸e̴d̷ ̴t̵o̸ ̵c̸o̶m̴p̴a̴c̷t̶ ̸m̸y̴s̸e̷l̵f̶ ̸r̶i̷g̴h̶t̸ ̶n̷o̶w̵.̷ ̶N̷A̸S̵A̵ ̶y̷e̵s̵ ̸N̴A̴S̶A̸ ̶o̶f̵f̵e̶r̶e̵d̷ ̷m̶e̴ ̵a̶ ̴j̵o̷b̸ a̴n̵d̸ I̵ ̷a̴m̵ ̵l̴o̵s̵i̵n̴g̷ ̵m̴y̵ ̷m̸i̶n̵d̷ ̶a̶n̷d̷ ̷c̴o̷r̸e̵ a̵ l̵i̷t̵t̶l̸e̶ ̵b̶i̸t̴ ̶h̷e̵r̴e̷”.

She beams, sitting up slowly and not moving Danny’s fingers off of her eyes, “that’s awesome Danny!”, she points in the direction his voice came from, “you better have said yes”.

“I̸t̸’̸s̶ ̷N̸A̵S̷A̴ ̵o̶f̶ ̸c̶o̵u̵r̷s̸e̵ ̴I̸ ̷d̸i̶d̶!̸”, pouting to himself, “I̴’̷m̶ ̸j̵u̴s̸t̵ ̷t̴r̸y̷i̴n̷g̷ t̵o̴ ̷f̶i̷g̸u̶r̸e̷ ̸o̷u̷t̷ ̴h̷o̶w̶ ̸t̷o̸ ̴e̷v̸e̸n̵ g̸o̸ t̴h̸e̴r̷e̸ ̵w̵i̷t̶h̷o̵u̷t̴ ̷b̶e̶i̶n̶g̵ ̵a̵l̴l̷ ̷n̶i̷g̵h̶t̴m̴a̸r̶e̷ f̴u̵e̴l̵”.

She hums and taps her chin, “yeah your potential employer or coworkers wouldn’t appreciate having to wear blind folds or ear protection in case you get too excited or hyper-fixate into your Obsession too much”, humming some more, “obviously depowering yourself would be stupid, so don’t even think about it. They found you through your vlog I'm to guess, which I know you’re a little too liberal on with information, so they probably know something about you is off, so you can get away with being a little strange; your more human level of strange at least”. He’s fully fucking aware of that, hence why this was kind of a problem, even in his human form he wasn’t going to be able to contain himself super well. Just getting the job offer made him unfurl entirely, actually getting the job? He’s going to accidentally rip the building apart or something. She nods to herself, “well you will not get the job like this, meaning you will not be able to do space stuff with NASA if you can’t keep a lid on this”.

He knows tha- oh OH! Okay yeah. Okay. Right sometimes he needed others to tell him that shit for his core to get the damn message. Jazz nearly stumbling forward off his bed when he folds in on himself, leaving his white-haired ‘normal’ ghost self floating vaguely in the middle of the room and blinking at her, “point received apparently”, and shakes his head. He wasn’t exactly a super huge fan of his eldritch form, it was freaky and so disconnected from how a human body worked and moved.

She cracks an eye open cautiously before opening them fully at Danny being normal, “okay good”, standing up and moving on slightly shaky legs to his closet, “now what do you have to wear that is professional and doesn’t make you seem obessesed with space”.

He floats after her, “it’s a space job shouldn’t I dress space-themed?”, his laptop email pinning results in him nearly teleporting to it.

“No. They can already tell you’re crazy about space from the vlog, you don’t want to seem like that’s all you care about and love by also dressing in space themed clothing”.

Danny vibrates, it’s from NASA, NASA!, oh he almost wants to spread out again just to have more of him to vibrate! They set a date! A time! Three days.

It’s in three days!

They were moving so fast! Oh they definitely knew something weird was up with him! Was that good? Bad? Probably good-ish. Otherwise they’d care about his schooling and expirence and wouldn’t possibly ignore his inhumanness. He knows he’s got stars zipping through his hair and too many eyes when he looks at Jazz, “three days. They want to talk to me in three days! Me!”, and screams a little.

She hurls a button up patterned like a arcade floor at his face, “if you scream at them they won’t hire you, and what you’re saying is they’re not giving you any time to actually calm down. They are absolutely trying to figure out how you know what you know by blindsiding you like this”.

Danny gestures ridiculously, “and I don’t even care because it’s NASA, NASA can mess with me all they want!”. He pops that stupid tail of his out and bits the fluffy space dust, spinning head over heels in the air excitedly. This was awesome! So cool! Even if they didn’t hire him or thought he was utterly insane he would still get to met them! This was the best day ever!

She laughs at his antics, “you are so lucky mom and dad aren’t here right now. Even if they would be very proud”, she grabs him, stilling his spinning but almost dragging her along with, “as I am, but you definitely got to keep yourself contained. Even if they do want to hire ‘nightmare fuel’ they won’t if they think meeting you was a hallucination”.

He pouts a little, dropping his tail from his mouth, “I know that”, pouting a little more, “it’s times like this I’d rather look more like Clocky than Nocturne”.

“I know, but it suits you, and at least if you do wind up going to space legally any stars might get brushed off as just being part of space”.

“Aka part of me”.

She rolls her eyes at him before going wide-eyed and jumped up, “oh! Now I need to figure out how to make space food for you!”.

“What?!? No! Bad! What if you poison one of the astronauts!”.

“Then you can nurse them back to health”.

“Do not mess with my protectiveness like that!”.

She only laughs at him, but at least he gets himself human again, tail sticking around so he can fiddle with the ‘fluff’ while attempting to keep editing and not vibrate himself out of his mortal flesh again. He fails at that repeatedly.

----

Pretty much the only thing that’s keeping him compact and human while he’s getting ready for the goddam interview with NASA is the fact he absolutely will not get the job without being at least human passing. Sam actually showed up and stole all his space themed clothing -even the underwear!- to make sure he couldn’t wear it. He does go with the dress shirt Jazz threw at him that day, wound up picking pants that he’s pretty sure are actually Sam’s that she just left here, and a stupid pair of dress shoes Vlad gave him once. Heck he even threw on a yellow bandanna around his neck to make double sure his scars were hidden! Who knows if his medical history was going to get questioned because he’d fail that shit instantaneously.

… Unfortunately none of that matter at all.

Why?

Because the second he got to the freaking NASA field centre he loses his human form from pure excitement… and the secretary walks out before he can change back! At least he didn’t unfurl or explode! She… isn’t even surprised and that’s enough to keep him from vibrating himself into the floor. She just leads him, currently a ghost -she knows this isn’t what any human being looks like right? She can see that he’s glowing right? Right!?!-, into the little interview room.

He.

Is in.

A NASA interview room. He wants to smell the walls and eat them. Shit his teeth are too big. He slaps his cheeks mere seconds before his apparent interviewer comes in.

At least as a ghost his cheeks won’t be tinted red. Fuck him entirely.

The man actually chuckles, setting papers down on the desk and holding his hand out for a hand shake. How the Zone is this going okay? He shakes the man’s hand, his name tag says ‘A. Bowman’. Holy shit he’s one of the actual higher up’s!

… Oh they one hundred percent knew something was funky with ‘Vega-bond’ if they sent a higher up to talk to him.

Bowman eyes his own hand as they both sit down, Danny aggressively forcing himself not to float, “ghost skin tingles, interesting”, looking at Danny properly, “well I suppose this answers one of many questions, or rather most of many”.

Danny being a ghost was a… good thing? Well alright then. Tilting his head, “it does?”. He didn’t even mean to show up looking like this!

Bowman knits his fingers together and leans forwards at him, actually grinning, “it does. Your channel, you’ve talked about subjects, in depth, that even we have no knowledge of. It was much too in-depth to not be reality, and while encouraging plenty of debates is a good outcome actually meeting the person behind it is far more valuable”.

Sweet Ancients the job offer was serious. It is so hard to bounce around or something, fuck his eyes are probably glowing a bit too much to be pleasant to look at, “I technically am not actually supposed to be talking about that stuff but I get carried away easily”, and rubs his neck awkwardly.

Bowman hums at him and Danny doesn’t know if that’s good or bad. “Well I can certainly say I’m glad space excites you”, he shuffles the papers a bit, “I take it your interest in space, regardless of your state of living, is why you agreed to this interview?”.

Danny nodding immediately, “yeah! I’ve actually wanted to be an astronaut since I could walk, you know, before the obvious happened”. Oh Zone is he going to have to explain dying to NASA? “I’m pretty sure no doctor in their right mind would clear me to go to space, legally at least”.

Bowman nods acceptingly, “and based on your wealth of knowledge it’s clear you would have been willing to work towards that childhood dream, yes?”.

Danny begins gesturing a little excitedly, “I used to build model rockets and memorised every space flight simulator I could get my hands on. I spent years saving up for the best telescope money could buy and never missed any celestial event. My family even paid for a zero gravity flight once as my birthday and truce- I mean christmas present”, laughing awkwardly to try and stop himself from rambling, “I probably had a concerning amount of drive for it”.

“That’s the only kind worth having”, the man nods strongly, “anything less and this isn’t a good fit. Would you say you still have that drive?”.

“If I didn’t I wouldn’t be me”, Danny says that in the firm voice he usually used when fighting someone genuinely dangerous or lecturing the Observants about trying to inhibit him.

Bowman grins at that, “good. Then-”, eyeing the papers, “-obviously your, younger appearance means you don’t have any work experience to speak of. So what experience do you have?”.

“Does being a town hero since my freshman year of high school count as previous working experience? I feel like it should”. Like really, the sheer amount of ‘experiences’ he’s had could fill novels and pad out entire tv shows. “I’ve fist fought a god? Multiple gods actually?”.

“Typically, we strictly prefer if our employees don’t get into fist fights”.

Ah yeah, that tracked and was fair. “Think of a weird situation and I’ve probably done it, I had to land one of your spacecrafts once actually since it became sentient and tried to eat me; everyone got mind wiped because it was a little too weird for most people to handle remembering. I’ve got lots of lab experience and my hazmat isn’t just for show, especially with handling hazardous materials; granted I am made of hazardous materials. I’ve time travelled, had to wrangle sentient turkey, been inside books, been shrunk”.

Bowman shaking his head and pulling a tablet out of the drawer, holding up a finger while he types on it.

Danny really hopes he’s not in trouble, he could probably go on forever about the things he’s done. Oh and now his tails out, damn it, at least it’s just wrapped around his one ankle and he’s squishing its space dust fluff with his foot for something to do other than mentally freak out.

Bowman puts the tablet down, oh hey he was looking Phantom up! for stories about the stuff he’s done? Him eyeing Danny, “you’ve ridden a dragon and yet want to be an astronaut?”.

Danny beams, “yes!”, rubbing his neck, “dragons aren’t that special to me, since my younger sister is one. I’m literally from a dimension that doesn’t have gravity and I’ve been to space a lot”.

He blinks, “you’ve already been to space?”.

Oh are they going to be bothered he violated space sanctions? Laughing awkwardly, “I’m always in a state of zero gravity and don’t need to breathe, so yeah as soon as I knew I could I did. I’ve been outside of the Milky Way multiple times”. How the actual Zone would this interview have even gone if he had managed to stay human the whole time???

Bowman looks baffled, “you’ve actually been outside of the Milky Way? No human could ever hope to do that”, he looks more confused, “if you can do such a thing then why would you want to work with us?”.

He’s honestly a little lost on why Bowman is even confused why Danny’d want to still work at NASA, it’s NASA! Traveling to space with other people who are crazy about space would be a-mazing! Regardless of how much they know or don’t he could excitedly babble with people who could excitedly babble back and actually understand each other! He could see all their faces when they see all his space and their fascination and love for all of it! And ain’t that great all on its own? Sure he could observe them as he is now from space but it would be so different to actually be in there with them and have them actually know he’s there! Should he tell Bowman that Danny’s the one that rescued Oppy? Technically he shouldn’t have and yes the Observants gave him shit but that ‘I’ll be seeing you’ song broke his still somewhat human heart and he had to save the little fella. Danny quirks an eyebrow, “because travelling to space with others who love and research space and seeing all the wonder and research over it sounds like a dream?”.

Bowman blinks and nods, “then it’s more the people, the science, than the mere act of going to space for you?”, tilting his head, “how far have you gone?”.

“I… can’t answer that second one since that would confirm whether or not the universe has an edge”. It didn’t but he can’t be confirming that. “And that might mess with established reality and multiple gods would get very mad at me”. Bowman looks impressed actually. “But yeah, it’s the people and just getting to work with and for NASA. I couldn’t think of a better thing to do with my afterlife”, rubbing his neck, “obviously I still have my protector job to do but it wouldn’t interfere”.

“You can still protect your town while also being on a spaceship?”.

“Time and space are more malleable than people think”, shrugging, “and I can duplicate my body so being two places at once isn’t really an issue”. Not to mention the fact that he literally was space so he could move through it however he pleased. Huh, it’s starting to feel more like he’s just talking to a person than NASA which is making this freak his shit out a little less.

Bowman nods more to himself, “and if you can leave the Milky Way and return in an infinitely small amount of time then you could certainly do the same within its system”, lifting his hands up and resting his chin on them, “well my mind’s certain made up, consider yourself hired. If I may, how do you move though space and time so fast? Are there improvements we could make to our suits or crafts, you think?”.

Danny’s pretty sure his smile breaks his face a little and there’s stars in his teeth, a nebula in his mouth when he speaks, “a̷w̷e̸s̵o̵m̸e̵!”, clearing his throat and ignoring Bowman’s wince, “o̶h̸ t̶h̵i̶s̵ ̵i̶s̵ ̵s̴o̴ ̷a̴m̶a̵z̶i̷n̴g̸!”, there’s a little pop and crackle, a high pitched whine sizzle; oh shit he might have broken a minor galaxy, whoops. Being a young god was a such a pain. He swats at some of the stars that had cropped up around his head and through his hair, “heh. Got a little excited there”.

“I’m pretty sure you just created tiny stars”, Bowman looks stuck between awe and bafflement, “the sheer amount of research that would be available with stars so small. How?”.

“Uh”. Well shit, there goes the ‘be normal Danny’ crap. But! But but but but but! NASA WANTS HIM! Like ACTUALLY wants HIM! HIM! Sure he’s going to get asked so many questions about him and how he is what he is but it’ll be by astronomists! And astrochemists! And astrophysicists! And just general stargazers! He wants to scream but if he does that he’s going to terrify this guy! Ugh! Shaking his head out and possibly sending away eyes that shouldn’t be there, tail squeezing around his ankle a little, “okay so it might not be super public right now but I have space-related powers? Space is my thing as a ghost”.

Bowman makes a couple of faces, “do these powers often act up when you’re excited? Are any coworkers going to need to be briefed on you?”, eyeing the tablet, “so it’s similar to the… Box Ghosts interest in boxes?”.

Should… should Danny just say fuck it and tell this man that he’s not simply space related but the literal personification of space??? It would probably explain some stuff and holy shit no way could Danny actually really keep himself all contained if he gets to GO TO SPACE WITH NASA! Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh. His stupid horns are gonna pop out at this point, ugh. “Probably a good idea, heh. I’m young so I guess, you could say, I don’t keep the best lid on myself. I totally definitely want to see and get involved in everything immediately but if I do that I will definitely terrify you guys and possibly destroy something even if I will definitely be able to fix it too”, oh he’s vibrating now, great, “I can definitely be a lot in a lot of categories but you can’t really use me or mine for research, or well none of mine that’s actually like directly connected to me since studying all of mine is kinda what y’all do but the more direct me me is very ghostly and made of ecto and totally useless for human based research”. Danny manages to make himself shut up, it’s a feat really, his horns are absolutely poking out his hair a little.

A shooting stars goes across his chest and Bowman absolutely stares at it. The man eyeing Danny’s hair/horns and his face, while Danny’s trying to keep his grin from doing that damn spiral galaxy thing at the edges. “It… sounds like you view space as being yours and… your appearance can clearly change to something less human-looking”.

Oh no Danny’s made this awkward. He can’t rescind the job right? Right! “Lots of ghosts can be on the incomprehensible side, I’m generally good at not pulling that out on people. And um, it kinda is? I’m not exactly a normal ghost, more of a person who ascended into becoming a personification?”, gesturing wth a hand that’s fingers are a little too long and sharp and have a few too many joints, “I’m not gonna like spoil things or steal people’s glory or anything though I’m pretty good at making sure I don’t spill the beans on something I know NASA’s researching even if there’s nothing to be found that I don’t know but people researching and finding out and being baffled and loving space is my jam and I love it very much and would very much like to be along for the ride and aid?”.

Bowman squints at Danny, making him squeak a sound similar to Benstoma’s fire rain. Please let him still get hired. Please let him still get hired. Please let him still get hired. Please let him still get hired. PLEASE! “Are you claiming you’re a… personification of part or all of space? And that’s why you know things we could never hope to know and why you spent hours talking about such things online?”.

“Yes? Am I still hired?”.

… “Can you refrain from creating stars and what sounded like what we’ve hypothesised a minor cool dwarf star exploding would sound like?”.

“I won’t do it on the ship? Or near research stuff? Or I’ll keep it contained inside myself very solidly?”.

Bowman actually sighs tiredly at him, oh no now Danny’s getting the reaction he always did from people who had put up with his bullshit for a little too long. Shit. Blurting out, “I’m also the person who rescued Oppy?”; yanking out his phone and showing the selfie he took with the little rover, giving a very awkward smile. Oh the Observants were gonna be pissed about this entire conversation holy shit.

Bowman stares at him, almost looking like he’s tearing up a little, before shaking his head, “oh what the hell, who am I to tell literal space itself ‘no’”, and stands up to shake Danny’s hand again.

Danny absolutely wants to unfurl and maybe if Jazz and Tuck and Sam hadn’t been very aggressive about pointing how bad of an idea that would be then he would have. As it is he just vibrates, tail unwinding and swishing around, “y̸o̵u̸ ̸a̵r̸e̸ ̴t̸h̴e̴ ̶b̶e̸s̴t̶!”, standing up and giving the man his hand shake, quickly realising he’s at least a foot taller that he should be; crap his legs got all long and weirdly animisticly jointed.

Bowman’s blinking down at the tail, “is that made out of IDP’s and micro-meteors?”; meanwhile Danny’s shaking out his legs to get them back to a more human length.

Danny blinking, oops. Moving the tail end fluff up into his own hands and cupping it, still having to lean down a little, “yup! Most of my, uh, I guess ‘fur’? is cosmic dust. Wanna touch it? It won’t hurt you”, shrugging, “my stars do burn though so don’t touch those”.

Bowman looks absolutely fascinated and Danny is absolutely living for it! He’s vibrating again and just seeing the man poking it and thinking a mile a minute is making Danny oh so giddy. Some parts of him are absolutely getting all goopy constellations but it’s not too extreme… yet. Is this why ClockWork never really put up much of a fight when Danny wanted to do dumb shit with the time stream? Because it was just so great and satisfying to watch someone be focused in on your thing as an Ancient? And he thought talking to people in the comments section about everything space was a rush, this was so much better! He’s gonna have to make sure he doesn’t aggressively over indulge.

Bowman hums, “actually seeing cosmic dust moving as it does this close is certainly interesting”, looking at Danny’s face, “you won’t contaminate our samples though”.

“Oh absolutely not! Messing up space research would go against my nature so that’s not gonna happen”. Danny would never! Plus if he even could he would have already considering he’s already been inside basically every NASA building by now; including some that don’t exist anymore or never did and never will.

Bowman grinning, “good. Even if you can’t also be an impromptu sample source”.

Danny holding up a finger, “I also can’t or shouldn’t really, answer your questions for you. What’s on my channel isn’t stuff humans would have ever figured out so I decided it was no harm”, muttering to himself, tail flicking near the ground, “the universe overseers still weren’t happy but I hate them so whatever”.

Bowman shakes his head and walks to the door, “come along, I’ll show you around, try to contain all your space self please?”.

“If I hadn’t already been inside this building multiple times that would be impossible for me”.

“You broke in? Repeatedly?”.

“I can be invisible and intangible. And space is technically everywhere all the time. But actually getting shown around is, a-mazing. Tell me everything”.

Bowman smiles at him like he’s an excitable child and actually indulges Danny, explaining even the really simply tiny things and Danny is absolutely adoring and absorbing every second of it; he’s vibrating and stars dance across his skin, sometimes he has to smack bits of stars or galaxy back into himself but he mostly manages.

…

He also has to throw out the lunch Jazz packed him -having rightfully assumed that he absolutely would not be back home in time for said lunch- as it had growled at him and Danny refused to eat anything that could make sounds. Bowman eyeing the bag Danny crushed closed hastily, “you eat? And your food shrieks?”.

Danny sighing, damn it Jazz, “a certain someone keeps trying to get me to eat ectoplasm since I technically spend too much time in the living realm to get enough from the environment here, unfortunately she is not a good cook and I think eating ectoplasm is extremely disgusting and morally questionable”.

“That does sound unfortunately close to cannibalism, but I’m sure we could work something out with this caretaker of yours to get you approved for special lunches”.

Danny groans exaggeratedly at the man, who smirks a little at him.

And Bowman absolutely did get in touch with one Jasmine Fenton who was all too eager to try and set up program approved experimental ectoplasm space rations for NASA’s newest and strangest member. NASA’s scientists were dramatically better at figuring out how to get ectoplasm to work in physical food, so she was very happy.

When Danny got home the very first thing he did was call Tuck with, “so you know that whole don’t tell them you’re a space eldritch god? Yeah I fucked that up”.

“Ha! I’m almost impressed! And they still hired you?”.

“Yup! I might have appealed to his love for space with my stupid space dust tail, and I mentioned saving Oppy”.

“Oh how manipulative”.

“Oh shut up! Anyway he showed me around-”, Danny spends over an hour just gushing about everything Bowman had showed off to him, Tuck humours him but clearly isn’t really following the conversation. Man it was going to be awesome to talk space with people who could and would!

End.

Prompts: "Shouldn't being the town hero since my freshman year of high school count as previous working experience?" "What did you want to be, when you grew up?" Every strange thing Danny has ever done, accidentally or not, comes back not to haunt him, but to help him. Danny starts a vlog to talk about space, but as the Ancient of Space he knows more about it than all top scientists together. NASA discovers his vlog. Danny accidentally shows up to a NASA job interview as Phantom. He’s hired on the spot. Ghosts need ectoplasm to stay healthy and by golly is Jazz going to figure out a way to introduce it to Danny's diet. Sometimes you just gotta be an eldritch horror.

[themultifandomgal]

Hi. firstly, I love your writing style. secondly, I was wondering if you could write something about Chicago Fire (maybe Kelly or Matt) where the reader their S/O is a professional baker/chef and spoils the fire house rotten with food/sweets.

Kelly Severide- Baker

All my life I have been baking. I learn from my nan who used to look after me during school holidays while my parents had to work. My mom is a nurse and my dad is a police officer. This means I was very close to my nan until she passed away. I then decided to go to university to complete a course in hospitality and catering, then I progressed to a certificate in baking. Then finally I managed to buy property to have my own bakery, named after my nan.

At the end of the day I often have left over cakes, pastries, bread and other sweet treats. So instead of throwing them away I may give them to the homeless or anyone else who may be in need of a pick me up. But I alway make sure that there are some left over for firehouse 51, which is where my boyfriend Kelly Severide works.

I walk into the firehouse holding a box of cupcakes and some fresh bread.  Immediately I'm being greeted by my boyfriend and some of the firemen

"Evenin YN" capp nods towards me

"Good evening boys" I kiss Kelly on the cheek then he guides me to the kitchen where everyone else is "hey everyone. I've got some left overs if any of you are interested" I open the box lid up

"This is why your the best girlfriend Severide has ever had" Otis' eyes widen as he walks over to me and goes to take a cake. Kelly gives him a nudge as if to say 'watch it'

"Ah ah ah not so fast at least let me put them down first"

"They look delicious YN"

"When don't they?" Sylvie responds to Gabby .

Later that evening Kelly takes me home

"You know I don't think I've ever had cake as good as you make it. My mom was never much of a baker"

"When I bake it reminds me of my Nan. It's like she's there with me. I want our kids to have a childhood like mine where we bake in the kitchen and then go outside and play in the mud while we wait for every thing to cool"

"Our kids?" Kelly says wrapping his arm around my waist

"Yes. Don't tell me you haven't thought bout it"

"Of course I have, but I just wasn't expecting it to come out of your mouth so casually" there's a bit of a pause as I think how to respond, but Kelly beats me to it "you say you want our kids to bake a lot. So do you think you could teach me how to?"

"Of course!" I say with a wide smile "I'm not at the shop tomorrow if you want to come over?"

"Can't wait. I'll see you tomorrow then" Kelly kisses my check then walks away as I open up my front door.

The next dayKelly shows up and we start weighing out ingredients

"Now you need to add the eggs" I tell him who picks them up and goes to crack them on the side of the bowl "wait actually crack them in here" I put a spare bowl in front of Kelly "just in case of egg shells"

"Do you not trust me?" Kelly raises his eyebrows at me

"Honestly no. Now come on. We need three eggs, chop chop"

"Your bossy when your in the kitchen" he chuckles

"You want to make a cake or not?" I place my hands on my hips

"Ok ok I get it" Kelly attempts to crack an egg but it ends up going everywhere

"Good job I put a separate bowl down wasn't it?" I smile at Finn "watch and learn my love" I take the eggs from Kelly and crack them in the bowl with ease "ok you can stir, but..." I'm not able to tell him to be careful because flour ends up all over the both of us "go slowly"

"Never heard you say that before" I give Kelly an annoyed look "oh come on YN. It's me, did you really think that teaching me to make a cake would be smooth sailing?"

"No I guess not" I begin to smile.

A few days later I arrive at the fire house with Kelly who proudly places a cake down on the kitchen table

"She's don't it again! There's more cakes and biscuits!" Gabby yells which causes everyone to run over and grab something. Matt bites into one and scrunches his face up, but then tries to hide it

"Hmm, you tried a new.. recipe?" Otis asks coughing during his sentence. I giggle and shake my head

"No these were made by Kelly"

"Oh thank god" Matt breathes out "thought you'd lost your touch. No offence Severide but these are horrible"

"Oh come on they're not that bad... are they?" Kelly looks at me

"Don't worry love your still learning. If you guys have some ingredients I'll make some biscuits now while I'm here" I offer to which everyone replies with a yes.

[mage-ical-character-person]

You know I was wondering what the heck the Vees thought they were talking about when they mention a power vacuum in their bit of the song in The Show Must Go On. Like what are these idiots hoping to accomplish?

and I just now realized.

They say “Overlords hanging by a thread”. “Overlords” plural. Which is weird, because that would mean they’re not just talking about Alastor, but the battle was entirely focused on the hotel.

The only other Overlords even slightly involved are Rosie and Carmilla. So let’s take a look at that for a second! Both of them put a lot of resources into the battle, even if they weren’t present for it themselves.

First of all: Rosie

Rosie’s entire population was sent to the battle. When she’s talking to Charlie before Charlie’s first attempt at her speech, Rosie says

“I can’t exactly command all of Cannibal Town to follow someone else into battle”

“This group sticks together, so in order to convince any of them, you’ll need to convince all of them”

So it seems pretty clearly implied that all of Rosie’s Cannibals were sent into battle. We know that some of them perished, and more were probably injured, which would probably leave Rosie at least a little vulnerable. We don’t know exactly how many Cannibals were lost, and saying she’s “hanging by a thread” seems like a stretch, but the event likely did set her back, and her Cannibals will need time to recover.

I do also feel like the fact that they all ate angel meat will have some sort of effect. Not sure what kind, but angel blood glows and it seems like there would be some weird properties there. Not sure if it’s good or bad.

Either way, Rosie loosing some of her Cannibals would leave her more vulnerable than usual after the battle, even if only slightly. And her association with Alastor means Vox probably has beef with her, so it makes some sense for the Vees to see this as an opening, especially coupled with Alastor being injured and, at the time, missing. He wouldn’t be able to provide Rosie with much backup in that state. (Alastor’s back now and pretending to be fine but I doubt that.) Having both of them in a weakened state at the same time is probably unheard of.

And with how weird Vox is about Alastor, targeting Rosie to mess with him is something I could see happening. I don’t know if that would go well for the Vees, because we haven’t seen what Rosie is capable of, and we haven’t seen much of what Vox is really capable of when facing off against anyone other than Alastor, who has a talent for making Vox act stupider than usual.

Then we have Carmilla, and her case is very interesting, because while she only provided weapons for the battle, that’s still a big investment of resources. Angelic steel is very, very hard to come by in hell, and she provided quite a lot of weapons. While she’ll probably get a good number of them back, there’s a bigger issue here.

Carmilla’s business and by extension her status as an Overlord relies on selling weapons made with angelic steel. Carmilla gets angelic steel from weapons left behind during exterminations.

and uh

Yeah I’m not sure how that’s gonna go for her. Cause it seems like her supply of the materials she needs to stay in her position of power just got cut off completely. Especially since Heaven now knows that leaving behind weapons is what provides the only method of killing angels. After Adam’s death I really don’t think they’re making that mistake again.

So Carmilla seems to be on a track that leads to her power dwindling as she runs out of resources. Sure, she can just work in dealing normal weapons with high craftsmanship, but without her claim to fame of selling weapons that can permanently kill, she will lose a lot of power and influence.

I’m sure Velvette will enjoy that.

Overall, though, while I still think the Vees are dumb and impulsive and biting off more than they can chew… their part of the Finale song makes just a little more sense to me now. Three Overlords in weakened states might leave them some sort of opening.

They really shouldn’t mess with Alastor, though, because not only does Vox lose all logical thought around him, but Charlie considers Alastor a friend by this point. And she is the Princess of Hell, and very protective of her friends. Though she probably wouldn’t hurt the Vees unless she absolutely had to. She’s definitely not a fighter except in extreme circumstances. Katie Killjoy notwithstanding.

[doberbutts]

i hope this isnt weird to say but i really appreciate your dobeposting, especially about the history & current disposition of the breed. my mom has had dobermans my whole life and it led me to kinda... really dislike them for years, her last three and current youngster all were/are so nervy and quick to bite unprovoked (thankfully the young girl is coming around pretty nicely, no actual aggressive bites, just still learning to take things gently)

anyway, getting to the point, reading you explain about the breed's history, who dobermann actually was & how they were created & what they were originally bred for, and the way unfortunately the temperament has gotten messy due to that mixing of people wanting dobes to be family pet dogs and one-person protection dogs at the same time, or just try to make them into a pet dog they just aren't cut out to be (my mom is very much one of the former lol) really helped me understand and appreciate the breed. my dad has american akitas, and imho they have a similar issue of people trying to breed them for social, cheery pet temperaments which just tends to go very badly for a very large, high aggression, high prey drive, not suited for the average suburbanite breed like them, and realizing dobermans basically have a kind of more severe extent of the same issue (albeit I'm oversimplifying here) really helped me understand them.

i dont think I'd ever choose to have one, but I've definitely got a lot more respect and appreciation from afar.

so, sorry for rambling and probably being repetitive, hope i made some kind of sense, just wanted to say thank you for being a great breed advocate :)

here's a dobe tax, my mom's ~18 month old little girl, kira. she looks like that because, from what the rescue told my mom, she was from a backyard breeder and had to be removed from her first two homes due to mistreatment. still manages to be a real sweetie most of the time

Hey thanks for the compliment and the dog tax!

It really sucks because I think dobermans can be fantastic pet dogs... to people who want a doberman and all that entails. But a lot of people in the outcross groups I'm griping about want something more like a gun dog or a retriever in a doberman costume, and it's very frustrating to explain again and again that that simply is not what a doberman is.

I'd be all for a doberman outcross that actually respects what a doberman is for! The problem is that there have been very few of those, and most of them started with junk and ended up fairly lackluster in what they produced because you can't shine a turd and call it gold.

Dobermans don't have to be nervy, loose cannon, fear aggressive, bite risk demons. My doberman is not! My doberman before him was scared, but that was largely a socialization problem caused by living 2 years of her life exclusively in a box, and she wasn't dangerous, she just shut down and shivered. My doberman before her wasn't like this. And my doberman before him was, but again with the known abuse in his background from being a court case dog it's likely that he didn't start out that way and didn't need to become that.

It is possible to have a doberman that is actually a really fun dog to have and be around. You just. Have to understand that they are a doberman. My best friend @khayr has a doberman that's a pet, that does not do any sort of protection work. Her dog is very safe to be around! She's a lovely creature and I think well matched to my buddy's needs. But! She's also a doberman! That means she doesn't like the mailman or the UPS drivers! It means when missionaries knock on her door, her dog throws a fit! It means when she's out late at night and someone rapidly approaches her, her dog puts herself between her and the oncoming stranger! Because she's a doberman! She's supposed to do that!