#blob's prompt party

[amultitideofdrops]

Thinking Julian and art...

Thinking about how drawing was his favourite activity as a young child. Going through reams of paper, the feel of letting his hand swirl around the page and making colours and lines, delighting in showing his parents and having them smile and laugh over the scrawls that are meant to represent their family. Because it's all very in line with how a 2 year old should draw.

Julian gets older, and his classmates start to make circles for heads, with dots and a wonky smile and long sticks that are meant to be legs. They start holding pencils with their fingers where he still fists a crayon. But it's okay his hands don't seem to move with the same control they do, because Julian still loves drawing. He particularly loves colour because it shows how everything feels even if it doesn't show how it looks to everyone else. His teacher asks them to draw themselves and he rushes to get every blue and purple he can and melds them together in a jumping spiral. His teacher tells him it's nice, but not in the same way she points to the other children's and says how good their ears are, or that the hair colour looks just the same.

His Mum starts to sit by him when he draws, pushing him to copy the squares and triangles from the sheet brought home from school.

Kukalaka rips, and Julian finds the best warm yellow to fix his hurt, even as Mum purses her lips and says it's supposed to match.

His teacher calls his parents in, talking to them gravely and pointing to a curling painted paper, explaining how Julian didn't listen to the assignment, and instead of pets in the garden at home, he hadn't tried and kept drawing the same blobs. Julian stares out the window, the defense that they weren't the same because the dog waved into a brown spiral, and the cat was a smooth dash of it, sticks in his throat.

His parents won't look at his drawings anymore, only telling him he needs to try. And Julian feels the shape of it change and press down on him.

The next meeting with his teacher follows, this time sweet and concerned as she points to the new self portrait, with Julian this time all Sharp edges in black and red.

Adigeon prime happens. Amsha excitedly brings some supplies to the hospital room--a real sketchbook and nicer artists pens then he was ever allowed - and asks him to draw something.

Kukalaka, observing from a shelf too high for him to reach, becomes his subject. And Julian can see every important detail to his shape and his hands follows it on pattern. On the paper becomes a perfect replication of exactly how Kukalaka sits in this moment. His parents are delighted, saying how talented he is. How wonderful his art is now. Julian stares at it well into the night, each pencil stroke, trying to understand where the flaw is because the Kukalaka in the drawing is wrong.

He tries again, usually by an adults prompting, to draw. But now it's a chore, a party trick like he's a machine taking a photograph. The thrill of pulling out something that only existed in his head and putting it to paper is gone, and there's a loss he can't verbalise until he runs his fingers over the yellow thread in Kukalaka.

Years later on Ds9 he Garak and Ziyal discuss art. Or rather, they listen to Ziyal excitedly talk about expressing herself in every medium she can get her hands on. Garak admits a modest ability, demonstrating a cartoon like style on the PADD between them. When they ask Julian he finds himself pausing, pen almost going to automatically trace Ds9 on the PADD, before letting it idly doodle across the screen in a soothing way.

"Ah, I've never had the talent for art you see."

[quintessenceofdust88]

Congratulations on your followers milestone! ❤️

Prompt-

Clipboard Dad Buck prepares for family vacation

Thank you Hannah! ♥♥ and thank you for this adorableee prompt which allows me to play with two things I love: Clipboard Buck and parents Bucktommy! It got a little (a LOT) away from me haha, cause these kids really wanted their chance to shine, and it became a bit of a study in Bucktommy parenting, so here's more than 1,000 words of my personal headcanons on the matter. Anywayyyy Hannah darling I hope you enjoy it and forgive me for my tardiness with this one! I had a LOT of fun writing it, writing kids always makes me so happy ♥ WARNING: there's a wee bit spoiler of Little Blobs' Verse in this one, just the names of the Little Blobs, cause (gasp) they don't get to keep being called that after they're born! Only when they're being particularly chaotic, then Tommy might call them 'little blobs of terror' (affectionate).

-- "Okay, people, gather round, we need a family meeting!" Buck announces for Tommy, Leonardo and Stella as he enters the living room, his clipboard in hand. Tommy is sat on the couch, one twin in each side of him, and they're all staring at Buck with mild horror.

Even the twins know how intense their dad can get when a clipboard is put in his hands. They remember the Decoration Incident from their eighth birthday party, and how their Papa, uncle Eddie and uncle Chim had groaned after redoing a balloon arch for the sixth time cause the color scheme wasn't perfect.

After that, Tommy had unfortunately on total accident gotten rid of all the clipboards in the house. Apparently, their family trip to Disney World is serious enough to warrant a new one. "Alright. We have twenty-two hours before our flight and lots of things to do, so we need to divide and conquer" Buck says, and Tommy is uncomfortably reminded of his drill sergeant from the Army. Granted, his sergeant was nowhere near as cute as his husband, but still. "Mini Menaces, have you done what Daddy asked and separated the clothes you want me and Papa to pack for you?" "Daddy, if I don't take any clothes, can I use my suitcase to take Flash with us?" Leo asks, and Tommy chuckles. Flash is their one-year-old Newfoundland pup, who's already set to spend their vacation with Maddie and Chim (Jee and Kevin are thrilled; Chim, not so much), but Leo's quite attached to him. "I don't want him to miss us!"

"No, sweetheart" Buck says regretfully. "We talked about this, remember? Dogs are not allowed in Disney World?" Buck reminds him, as if that was the only problem in taking a 100-pound dog on vacation. "That's silly," Stella ponders. "How can they not allow dogs in Disney World if Pluto lives there?"

"And Goofy!" Leo adds helpfully, and wow, this conversation is taking a turn that Buck didn't quite expect.

"And Pongo!" Tommy adds this time, and Buck glares at him. He is so not helping. He seems to notice imminent danger, cause he wisely decides to change the subject. "Flash wouldn't like Disney World anyway, kiddo. He'll have way more fun drooling all over uncle Chim's floor and getting treats from Jee, I promise"

"Papa's right, Leo-bear. So if you didn't choose any clothes on the hopes of sneaking Flash in your bag..." He says, and Leo pouts (and wow, he's already a mini version of Buck, but it becomes even more evident when he does that).

"But... What if he misses us?" He asks, and Buck and Tommy exchange a look. It's always hard, balancing Leo's big heart with more practical things, but they find ways; they never want their son to lose his love for all living things.

"Tell you what, buddy" Buck crouches down to his level, putting the clipboard aside for a minute. "How about we send lots of pictures to Jee? She can show them to Flash, and we can make a video call if you want to"

"Pinky promise, Daddy?" Leo asks, stretching his pinky, and Buck links his own with it.

"Yeah, kiddo. Now go choose your clothes" He says, giving Leo an affectionate pat to get him moving. The boy scramps off with a "Thanks, Daddy!", apparently satisfied with the solution. Buck knows he'll probably have to double check, because in his excitement Leo may choose a band T-shirt with rain boots, but he likes to let the kids develop their independence.

"What about you, Stellina?" Tommy asks their daughter, and Buck has hopes there. Stella is (usually) much more sensible than her brother (she's usually much more sensible than her dads, but they don't like to admit that out loud). "Already decided what looks you wanna parade in Magic Kingdom?" "About that..." She says, puppy eyes in full effect, and Buck's always taken aback when she does that. Normally Stella looks much more similar to Tommy, down to the electric blue eyes and scrunchy smile, but her puppy eyes are full Buckley genes working their magic. "Are you sure I can only take two princess dresses? What if I wanna be three princesses, one for each day?!" And, well, who's Buck to tell his eight year old daughter she can't be three different princesses? Contrary to popular belief, clipboard!Buck is not heartless, he can be flexible (in all honesty, usuall he is heartless when in full planning mode, but never to his kids. He is a total sucker in their hands and they all know it).

"Well, you can add a princess dress, but then you can't take your astronaut outfit to Space Mountain, so you have to choose, baby" He says, because there's truly not enough space in her bag.

He and Tommy are already sharing one so the twins can have extra space for all the things they're buying at Disney World, and they will be buying stuff. They'd been saving their allowances for almost a year, and they got handfuls of money from aunt Hen and Karen, uncle Eddie, aunt Maddie and uncle Chim, nonna Rosa and a ridiculous generous amount from grandpa Bobby and Athena (never grandma Athena, both the twins agreed she's too badass to be called 'grandma', so she's always been just 'Athena' to them). One thing Tommy and Buck agreed on is their absolute refusal to pay extra bagage fees, so it's either the princess dress or the austronaut outfit. "Oh, then astronaut! I promised aunt Karen!" She says, and then pouts. "Daddy, I don't know which one to leave behind! I wanna be Elsa, and I wanna be Belle and I wanna be Mulan!"

He and Tommy exchange another look; Buck knows his own parents (and Tommy's dad) would never take such a dilemma seriously, but that's not the kind of parents they want to be. For an eight-year-old, yeah, having to choose which princess to be is a big deal, and they treat it like so. "I get you, little star" Tommy tells her, his expression absolutely serious. "All three fine choices of princesses. Which one is your most absolute favorite right now?" "Mulan!", she answers, and they're not surprised. It's Hen's favorite Disney movie, and Stella loves her aunts Hen and Karen to death.

"Alright, so Mulan's dress definitely has to go with us" Buck says, taking a note on his clipboard so she'll see he means business. "Now, between Elsa and Belle, who do you prefer?" "I don't know, I love them both!" She huffs, crossing her arms, her frown giving essential Tommy Kinard vibes. "Who do you prefer, Daddy?"

"Ah, well, sweetheart, I do love Belle, but Elsa has the best Disney song, hands down" Buck says, because they amount of times he, Tommy and the kids have belted Let it Go together is embarrassingly high. "And you, Papa?" She asks Tommy, and Buck always finds it sweet how she makes sure both of them weigh in on decisions that are important for her. He never felt this security with his own parents, and it warms his heart that his daughter has it with them. "I gotta agree with Daddy, principessa. If you meet Elsa with your dress, you can tell her all about the time you and your cousin Mara went as Elsa and mini Elsa for Halloween, what do you think?" "Yes, I want to do that! I'll put away my Belle dress! Thank you, Papa!" She says, wrapping her arms around Tommy's neck, and then, on her way to her bedroom, she wraps them around Buck's waist. "Thank you, Daddy!"

"Well, I hope your family meeting was adjourned, because they'll both be pretty busy for a while" Tommy says, hugging him from behind and pressing a small kiss to Buck's nape. And well, Buck would love nothing more than get some fun time with his husband, but the truth is the kids won't be busy for that long and he has a schedule to keep up with. "And so will we, mr. Kinard" He says, wrestling himself away from Tommy's arms (not without some internal battle, because part of Buck will always want to jump Tommy's bones at any given time) and beckoning him to follow Buck to the kitchen. "Next on our list is checking snacks, kids' documents, checking if they packed good shoes for walking around, making sure they're taking their sleeping stuffies..." As Buck trails off, his eyes fixated on the clipboard, he thinks he hears Tommy muttering something about feeding his clipboard to Flash next time.

[zenkindoflove]

Erixius Masterlist

New to Erixius? I suggest reading my one-shot "Carry You Home" as a good introduction to the ship if you aren't ready for a multichapter fic. All fics are independent stories and there is no order for how to read them.

Multichapter Fics

Pull Me in Deeper (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 23/23 chapters, ~115,000 words Summary: Needing more alliances, Eris strikes a deal with Helion: go to the continent and find out information for him, and Day Court will support him usurping Beron. What he didn’t account for is the beautiful Day Court emissary accompanying him that makes his heart race while being such a thorn in his side.

Let the Light Linger (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 5/5 chapters, 29,856 words Summary: High Lord Eris reluctantly attends the Winter Solstice party in the Day Court to visit his mother. He intends for this to be a quick visit, but instead he finds himself wrapped in a night filled with sexual tension and brazen flirtation with an alluring male named Alexius. There is something about this male that sinks under Eris’ resolve, making him question his duty and his future. Can he have him for just one night? Or will one taste ruin him for eternity?

Summer Heat (E) - Elain x Lucien, Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

Complete, 18/18 chapters, 114,890 words Summary: Summer Court is hosting the Summer Solstice Summit and the Night Court is sending their best emissaries to attend. It will be Elain's first time mingling in another court, and it's a good thing she has an expert guiding her: the mate she's been ignoring for the last two years. Meanwhile, Eris has been sent to the summit to spy on Summer's developments. What he doesn't anticipate is entangling in a steamy, forbidden romance

Autumn Leaves and Day Dreams (M) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

WIP, 3/? chapters, 2,500 words Summary: This is a collection of drabbles and short fics for Eris x Alexius, a male OC from Day Court I created in my fic Summer Heat which you can read for longer form Eris x Alexius content. These are mostly from prompts submitted via Tumblr. Each chapter is its own story and some may have follow-ups in the future.

Short Fics

Carry You Home (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 15k words Summary: During the Hybern battle, Eris is mortally wounded and ready to die. Until a knight in shining armor saves his life. He isn’t sure how to thank him, but he has all night to try. Takes place during ACOWAR. For Eris Week 2024 Day 5: War | Adventure.

Taste of You (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 2,200 words Summary: Eris and his mate Alexius are on a tour of Autumn. Alexius is feeling cooped up in the carriage and Eris has an idea of how to release some tension. PWP. Established Erixius.

Caress Me Down (E) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 2k words Summary: Alexius pulls his hamstring and Eris has the perfect remedy: a massage. PWP. For Eris Week 2024 Day 3: Healing | Betrayal. Established Erixius.

The Jewel of The Forest House (T) - Eris x Alexius (Male OC)

One-shot, 5k words Summary: Eris’ mate Alexius brings home a stray dog to the Forest House that Eris is reluctant to accept. Jewel is feisty, impolite, and most importantly, nothing like his smokehounds. For Eris Week 2024 Day 4: Tradition | Hounds. Established Erixius.

Artists' Fanarts & Gifts

Eris x Alexius PMID fanart by @thrumugnyr

Eris x Alexius blob fanart by @bonecarversbestie

Eris & Hounds fanart with TJOTFH inspo by @fierling

OC Alexius fanart by @queercontrarian

Erixius Vampire AU fanart by @works-of-heart

OC Alexius Blob fanart by @bonecarversbestie

Eris x Alexius Solstice fanart by @works-of-heart

Erixius Valentine's Art: Prince and His Knight AU by @works-of-heart

Erixius Tender and Nakey Art by @jadedbugart

Erixius Comic: Worm!Alexius by @bonecarversbestie

Commissioned Fanart

Eris x Alexius commissioned fanart 🍂☀️ by @works-of-heart

Eris x Alexius commissioned end of PMID/Autumn Court fanart by @jennastokesart *banner art

Erixius at the beach commissioned fanart by @luciensdefenseattorney

Freddie Fox Eris fancast commissioned fanart by @evermorelore

Eris x Alexius Solstice/Holiday commissioned fanart with bonus unicorn painting by @jadedbugart

Eris x Alexius Fishnets Scene from PMID commissioned fanart by @lucychanart

Moodboards & Misc

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 7 Summer Heat

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 12 Summer Heat

Eris x Alexius moodboard Ch 16 Summer Heat

Free and unashamed: an Erixius playlist

Erixius Stupid Ass Ship Chart

Erixius: Get To Know My OTP Chart

Eris Week 2024 Masterlist

Eris Vanserra moodboard | Alexius (OC) moodboard

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

[abarbaricyalp]

Hi! For the kinky/spicy prompts I'm gonna give a few options because that whole list is wonderful: SamBucky #34 or #57 (Thunderbolts era) or #59, pretty please!!!

Thank you so much for your patience with this prompt from literal weeks ago! When I say I started all of these... You have no idea how many drafts were born from this. Congrats to the winner, but I'm almost positive I will finish the other two major ones as well. I hope you enjoy this one!

#34 In the Kitchen // AO3 Link

Where Love and Feeling Good Don't Ever Cost A Thing

Sam had to take a second to wonder if he had actually sustained a concussion on the last mission and was hearing things now. It’d be a delayed response for sure. He’d been home for three days now and there’d been no other symptoms. Still, he was sure that the boys could not have possibly cried out what he thought they did as they untangled from the water-balloon filler and went racing across the backyard to the side gate. Because what they had shouted was:

“Uncle Bucky!”

Sam flipped a burger poorly in an attempt to look up faster than his muscles would actually allow. It sizzled in irritation and malformed into some kind of lopsided beef monstrosity, but he didn’t care. Because Bucky was coming through the gate with presents that he set aside as he squatted down and held his arms wide to catch two bear hugs at once, grinning wider than the whole state and laughing when he got taken off his feet.

For a second, Sam wondered again if this was a hallucination. Bucky was dressed like he had been for the very first cookout–dark glasses, dark pants, dark jacket. But, no. His hair was longer and AJ had already taken his glasses, so Sam could see the fading bruise that bracketed his left eye. And he’d foregone his stupid ice cream cake this time.

It had been months since they’d talked. An explosive argument about the Thunderbolts, the simmering, angry acknowledgement from them both that there were secrets they weren’t sharing, the clandestine order of operations they were working under, all added up to months of silence and a building resentment that Sam thought he’d carry with him for the rest of his life.

But now Bucky was back, holding both Wilson boys in each arm like they were still small, and Sam couldn’t find any of that resentment at all. In fact, he couldn’t find any of those hard feelings at all.

One of Sarah’s friends had come around behind Bucky to gather the gifts he no longer had hands to carry and Sam saw him turn to talk to her. Then he was looking right at Sam, easy grin falling into something so desperately soft that Sam had to look away.

Someone fussed at him in one of the more Spanish based Creole dialects, and Sam jumped a little, hastily removing burgers from the grill. He didn’t speak any of the Creole languages, most people didn’t, but they all knew the bad words and there were a couple in there.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologized and passed off the slightly charred–but that’s what made them good–plate of burgers. Not the Blob Burger. That one, he tried to press down into shape again. It didn’t really work.

When he looked up again, Bucky was right beside him. There was about a half second between Sam recognizing his face and Bucky putting his hand on Sam’s waist to get his attention.

“Hey,” Bucky said, all soft and low. He’d lost his hangers-on and it was just them by the grill. Sam was actually surprised by that. The neutral, no-go zone for the water balloons was by the food. He figured more people would be around.

Sam pushed Bucky’s hand from his waist. “You should go talk to the boys. It’s their party,” he said tightly.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky breathed. Sam could hear the reluctance, sorrow, pain in his voice. His hand raised again but fell without Sam having to bat at it. “You’re seriously not even gonna look at me?” he asked. He tried to do that head tilt thing he did where he tried to put himself in Sam’s line of sight, but the grill was in the way.

“Why are you here?” Sam asked.

“You called. I came,” he said.

“I’ve been calling,” Sam snapped. “Why did you pick up this time and not before?” His eyes cut up to Bucky, which was a mistake because then he just crumbled away all over again.

“You know what the parameters of my deployment were,” Bucky said. “I didn’t get a chance to do anything until this time. I wanted to be here for their party. Cass is a teenager!”

Everyone had been playing up this party more than was necessary. Mostly to keep the boys from getting at each other’s throats about having to share a party. Partially because everyone was always looking for a reason to throw together a cookout or a potluck or a barbeque or a boil. Sam had texted Bucky about it without even really thinking. It had felt like back before the Flagsmashers, before Bucky and he had bought a house together, for those few weeks when they were still apart but sharing everything. The boys are having a birthday party. You should come.

He hadn’t even thought Bucky had his real phone.

Before Sam could wrangle any of those thoughts into a coherent sentence, Cass was next to them, yanking on Bucky’s arm and excitedly explaining the rules of the newest water slide game. Bucky shot Sam one more look, dug his heels into the soaking wet grass for just a second. But Sam just lifted his eyebrows and pointedly looked at the slip ‘n slide.

Bucky did a pretty good job not letting his sigh show as he let Cass pull him away. He was already shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it aside as he ask for a reiteration of the rules.

“I’m not gonna tell you not to be mad,” Sarah said from behind Sam, which really made him jump because there was not that much room between him and the house.

“Why would you do that while I’m working with an open flame?” he asked. He gestured to the grill with the spatula in his hand.

Sarah looked skeptical. “It is hardly an open flame.”

Sam grumbled and turned back around to arrange the next batch of hotdogs on the grill. “You’re really gonna defend him?” he asked.

“I literally just said the opposite. Go clean out your ears and wash off your attitude while you’re at it,” Sarah shot back. She leaned against the folding table next to him. It’s where the done food was supposed to go, but people kept coming up and taking trays of burgers and dogs directly from him before he could even set them down. “God knows Cash and I had more than a few stupid fights.”

“You’re taking his side,” Sam surmised. “You think I’m being stupid.”

“I didn’t say that. Takes two to have a stupid fight.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Sam argued back. Just to be irritating.

“You’re right. When you would get mad at me for ‘not being in your room’ when I stood in your doorway, you had sole rights to the stupid half of the fight.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Sam accused. “You were so annoying when you did that and you knew it! I reacted like any normal person would.”

Sarah didn’t try to hide her grin, except to look away from him. Sam assumed she’d found Bucky in the crowd again, based on the way her eyes tracked around the play area. “You should at least talk to him. Stupid fight, justified fight, hurt feelings, whatever. He came back for you.”

“You’re so on his side,” Sam groused.

“Telling you to talk to your partner is not choosing sides. It’s just being intelligent. I know I got the looks and the brains in this family, but you must’ve absorbed at least a few stray brain cells.”

Sam glared at her and then glared harder when she gestured for him to roll the hotdogs over. He did it, but not because she was right. 

“He’s home, Sam. Talk to him, if nothing else.”

Home. Sam would’ve scoffed at the idea, but watching Bucky show AJ how best to throw a water balloon from behind a tree only proved the point harder. And the way his eyes kept finding Sam any time he had two seconds to himself wasn’t helping matters any.

For the rest of the party, they didn’t get to see each other one-on-one. Sam had caught Bucky trying a few times, but for as often as Bucky got pulled aside to play a new game, Sam was getting pulled aside to settle neighborhood gossip or play a different game that was much better than the game everyone else was playing. Kids were weird.

It wasn’t until everyone had made their way out of Sam’s backyard and all of the blowaway trash had been gathered and the boys had made them promise they were coming to Sarah’s for the campout and s’mores and catching fireflies that Sam and Bucky finally were alone. True, it was Bucky’s house too, but Sam didn’t like how he just let himself inside. True, also, that Bucky had been in and out all afternoon anyway. But this was just them now and there was no real reason for Bucky to let himself inside before Sam. Except that he lived there.

Sam watched him veer directly into the kitchen and begin to wash all the dishes that had piled up throughout the afternoon. The draintray was already full and there were more spread out across kitchen towels on the counter. How had they made this much mess?

Without a word, Sam freed a towel and began to dry and put away the dishes. He wasn’t helping Bucky. He was saving his kitchen. In fact, he gave Bucky as much of a cold, silent shoulder as he could while they pantomimed domestic bliss.

The sun was setting as slow as a dog on a hot day. It bathed the kitchen in stark oranges, exactly the way they’d known it would the first time they saw the patio style doors to the backyard. Sam leaned against the counter around plate number 56 and just let himself bask in the warmth of the sunset.

Then there was an even warmer hand on his jaw and neck and a mouth on his. Bucky had never been able to resist Sam when he was pretty. “I’ve missed you,” he breathed as he shifted to kiss Sam’s cheekbone instead.

Sam indulged him for another two kisses–they were in quick succession, it didn’t count–and then pushed him back. Bucky hit the counter with the sink because they weren’t as far away as Sam had thought.

“You don’t get to come here and act like everything’s normal,” he said. “It’s not normal. You were gone.”

“It wasn’t like it was my decision,” Bucky answered. They were going to have this argument verbatim again and get nowhere.

“You chose to go.”

“There was no choice, Sam. This wasn’t a moral stance I could just take.” Bucky’s voice was hard as steel and twice as sharp. “You still have no idea what you’re talking about. Which is insane since you keep buddying up with the guy who engineered half of it.”

“Who the hell do you think I’m buddying up to?” Sam demanded.

“You think I haven’t noticed that you’ve been tailing Ross like a shadow? I had internet access.”

“You could’ve fooled me, since you never answered your damn phone.” Sam threw the towel down on the counter, which was less dramatic than he wanted it to be. “And I’m not buddying up to Ross, you asshole. He’s trying to put a leash around the shield and I’m trying to stop him.”

“Oh, you can tell when someone has a leash on you, but not when it's on me?”

Sam did walk into that one. He narrowed his eyes on Bucky. The man looked tired. He’d hidden it well at the party, but now the shadows beneath his eyes and the tint in his skin was so obvious to Sam, even with the sunset glow. It had been a long time since he’d seen Bucky look like that. It’s not like he’d been on a vacation for these last weeks.

“You think I wouldn’t have been here if I’d had any choice, Sam?” Bucky insisted.

“I think you have a self-flagellation issue that leads to you taking punishment you don’t deserve,” Sam corrected. “I think you invite pain and loss in whatever form it visits without fighting it. And I think you're not used enough to other people in your life who get caught in the explosion.”

“I think you have a self-flagellation issue that leads to you taking punishment you don’t deserve,” Sam corrected. “I think you invite pain and loss in whatever form it visits without fighting it. And I think you're not used enough to other people in your life who get caught in the explosion.”

Bucky’s jaw worked harshly as he stared at Sam. He had this habit of closing his expression off, face going as blank as a slate rock. But it had been a long time since he’d deployed it on Sam. Even now, it was absent as he steamed. 

“I’m loved for the first time in eighty years. You think I’d just walk away from that?” he asked finally, voice flat and hard.

Sam stopped. His whole body felt bow-string taut. A video paused in mid-motion. He knew Bucky was loved here, but he hadn’t considered that Bucky understood the depth of his belonging. He’d meant it when he said Bucky had an innate need to be held accountable over and over and over again for his past. It coupled well with the idea that he thought he was a burden here, on the Wilsons. But Sam didn’t actually know that Bucky felt like a burden. And if he didn’t, if he wasn’t excising himself because of some misplaced idea of making things easier for them, then what the hell had all of this been about?

“Then why did you go?” Sam asked. His voice had gotten quieter, but no less harsh.

“I can’t tell you that. Why won’t you trust me on this?”

Sam had spent months thinking it was Bucky who hadn’t trusted him. Hadn’t wanted to talk to Sam about his thought processes. Hadn’t even tried to listen to Sam’s arguments, his pleas, for Bucky to stay. He’d asked Bucky the exact same question before.

“Why can’t you tell me? We don’t keep things from each other.” It was only a half truth and the way that Bucky’s eyes flashes towards him told Sam Bucky knew it too. There were plenty they both did that they didn’t tell the other about. But not things like this. Things that separated them.

“Because it involves leverage you don’t need to know about,” Bucky answered. “I just need you to trust me. You’ve trusted me for more with less. Why are you fighting this?”

“Because nothing else ever took you from me!”

They stood facing each other, both breathing hard though they hadn’t gotten very loud or very fast in their argument. There wasn’t much room on this half of the kitchen and the mess of drying dishes and dishes waiting to be washed made it feel even smaller. The sun stretched between them, painting everything nostalgia-orange.

“I’m coming back,” Bucky said evenly. He sounded fucking exhausted and Sam hated it. “I’m keeping an eye on you, on home. Nothing is going to stop me from coming back.”

“You don’t know that. Anything could happen and I wouldn’t be there.”

“Nothing is going to happen,” Bucky insisted. “I wouldn’t let it. I’m hard to kill when I don’t care what happens to me. Having a family again makes me a lot more dedicated to staying alive.”

Sam thought Bucky stepped forward to kiss him, but when he put his hands on Bucky’s waist, the countertop was still behind him and Sam had stepped into the sunbeam.

Bucky’s hands came up to either side of Sam’s face and he smoothed out the desperate, choppy kiss. God, Bucky was a good kisser. Sam kind of hated it sometimes. Hated that he craved these moments. Hated that he couldn’t argue while Bucky’s tongue was in his mouth.

“Promise me you’re coming back,” Sam breathed into his mouth as one hand clutched at Bucky’s shirt over his chest and Bucky leaned into him, using all two extra inches to his full advantage.

“I’m right here,” Bucky insisted. Then, when Sam pinched him, he added, “I’m coming back.”

Read the rest on AO3

[berrypass-de-murdler]

S-12 The Impossible Chapel Murder

Happy mother's day to Tuscany, Aureolin, Onyx, Azure and the Crystal Goddess (and perhaps a couple of others...)

BUT LOOK AT THE STOOPID LITTLE BOOOOKIEE THAT FLETCH DREW! AAAAAAAAAAAHHAHH! WHAT!!! IT'S A SMAOL BOOOKIIE

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

OBSIDIAN: You see, Logico, we noticed a body near the Church of Reason. And it may have been here a long time. 

The Church of Reason is a community building on campus. It may be called a church, but it is purely non-religious. There’s even an unstained glass window, casting white light onto the ground from the secular sun. And Logico has never bothered to check it out… until now.

He’s immediately greeted by a moose chugging a large beer and then snorting it all out his nose into Logico’s face. There’s only two people here, but somehow they are having a raging party. The moose is wearing a barrel, and there’s also a blue thing dancing along with him.

But aside from the body, that’s it. So whodunnit?

The moose is called Brownstone. He shakes around in his giant barrel, then watches the booze come out the spout and into a glass. And even though his entire body was submerged in it, he drinks it anyway!

BROWNSTONE: Kiddo I don’t know ANYTHING about ANYTHING and the murder and stuff. No matter what baby boy, I ain’t NEVER gonna stop partying!! 

He accidentally falls over, spilling a ton of alcohol and he can’t get back up. He throws up just a tiny puddle on the floor.

The blue furry animal is named Lapis. She’s in charge of what’s playing.

LOGICO: What’s in that book? LAPIS: THIS? HA! This is all songs, baby. Things get drab, I get ‘em going good.

She dances over to the speaker system and changes the tune to something with an even heavier bass. 

BROWNSTONE: NO SHIT, I LOVE THIS SONG!!

He scrambles out of his barrel and they both spin around and cheer. But Logico isn’t getting any leads.

So he examines the unstained glass window. With no colors, it’s impossible to tell if it’s supposed to represent anything. It’s just blobs. But tucked in a crack in the wall, there’s a little sheet of paper… and tubes of yellow and red paint.

“Put these colors here like the diagram. What do you see? It was here by the window when the murder took place. I’m here.”

It’s signed with eyes again, and that gives Logico peace. But what doesn’t is that he still can’t solve the mystery. It was not either of the suspects here. The murder seemed to have been committed with cooking oil if his grid is correct. He heads back to Obsidian, heavy-hearted.

LOGICO: I’m sorry. I don’t understand. It was an impossible murder.

Or the culprit escaped, or it was suicide, or the person died of natural causes.

OBSIDIAN: It’s a mystery, isn’t it? That’s your homework - find out how this occurred.

Logico has to hand it to her - that was an ingenious lesson prompt. But it does leave him to question her own innocence.

The end! 

They may be wildly different ages, but Lapis and Brownstone have been 'siblings' since the dawn of time

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[shares-a-vest]

@steddielovemonth Day 11: Love is... Saving the last bite for them (Prompt by @acasualcrossfade)

wc: 586 | Rated: G | cw: Food, Eating

Tags: Clean-Up After a Party, Bickering, Steve's House, The Party Being Total Shits (they are not present, but it's the premise)

The Clean-Up Crew

Eddie looks over the mess atop the Harrington’s kitchen counter and sighs.

The place is destroyed – littered with paper plates and solo cups (that were sourced from god knows where), food leftovers, crumbs and overall rubbish. All the aftermath of an impromptu ‘pool party’, pool noodles and all, courtesy of a pack of ravenous and uninvited teen gremlins.

Their lazy Sunday afternoon in the height of an Indiana summer wasn’t supposed to go like this.

Nor did Eddie think he and Steve would be spending their Date Night acting as a clean-up crew. He guesses he should count himself lucky that the little shits even decided to leave – something about Mike having a haul of candy stashed away in his dank basement.

“Can you at least help me if you are gonna start complaining?”

His eyes snap from a melted blob of something-chocolate to find a very disgruntled, Steve glaring back. He’s wearing an apron. One that is surely his mother’s considering the red tartan-like pattern and frills.

“I didn’t say anything!” Eddie defends, stifling a giggle as Steve wildly gestures to the bench as he sports a yellow pair of rubber gloves.

“Just…” Steve sighs, clearly overwhelmed by the volume of mess, “Help me now and then we can eat.”

Eddie frowns and picks up a nearby box of cereal – his Honeycombs Steve adds to his grocery list especially for him. He upends it and sure enough, it’s empty.

He tosses it to the side and grits his teeth.

“And what are we supposed to eat, exactly?” he spits.

Steve smirks to himself, wipes his gloves on his apron and heads – nay, struts – to the refrigerator.

“Dustin bought over a goddamn cake if you can believe it,” he explains, opening the door and disappearing behind it.

And just as quickly he pops back into view, holding up a delicate white dinner plate in victory.

“They are such little shits,” Eddie says, shaking his head in disbelief.

He is certain the fridge is just as barren as the rest of the kitchen, so there’s simply no way Steve could have possibly had an easy time hiding the treat.

“They are the worst,” Steve agrees, setting the plate down between them and ripping off the saran wrap, “But Henderson has a good taste in all things cake.”

He snaps off a glove and tosses it onto the floor, wiggling his brows as he does so.

Eddie recoils, “Don’t talk about Henderson while you make goo-goo eyes at me!”

Steve lifts the plate into his purview and goddamn it smells like fudgy, chocolate heaven. He could kiss Steve stupid but... He is just so annoyed that those damn entitled kids, who think nothing of treating Steve’s house as their own personal Club Med.

“Did they really go to Melvad’s on the way here?” he wonders, scrunching his nose.

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles.

“And then biked all the way across town with party food and bottles of soda?”

He breaks off a piece of cake with his fingers and all but shoves it into his mouth. He groans, smacking his lips (it tastes just as good as it looks) and greedily licks his fingers.

Steve nods, “And somehow Sinclair hauled over a lifetime supply of Coke cans too.”

“And the pool noodles?” he asks, spittling cake as he dives in for more.

But Steve smacks his hand away.

“After clean up,” he laughs, “Besides, I meant for us to share.”

[chrisbitchtree]

Money Can't Buy Me Love

For @harringrovelovefest Day 6!

Prompt: Can't Buy Me Love

T - 1k

***

Nothing made Robin madder than knowing she was right, yet no one listening to her, which was why she was so frustrated that Billy and Steve hadn’t gotten together yet, despite her superior matchmaking skills.

She’d been friends with Steve for a few years now, ever since they’d been paired together for training shifts as newly hired employees of Scoops Ahoy ice cream shop back in their hometown of Hawkins, Indiana. It had first been a friendship of circumstance, but then they’d realized how much they had in common, and their friendship had intensified until they were inseparable.

She’d only met Billy the previous spring semester when they’d started studying together for their shared Stats class, but she could tell right away that he and Steve were perfect for each other. Where Steve was sweet and soft, a total romantic, Billy was gruff and brash, full of snark. They bickered over anything and everything any time they were together, but they had the whole opposites attract thing going on. Plus, Robin saw how they looked at each other when Steve would join them for a study session, or they’d all meet up to go to dinner or a movie. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife any time they were in the same room.

Robin wasn’t sneaky about her intent to pair them up, constantly telling them that they try going out on a date sometime, or at least bone each other, even if just to see if they were compatible with each other. She even tried to rope her girlfriend, Heather, into trying to persuade them, but she said she was staying out of it.

But try as hard as she might, Billy and Steve kept refusing, saying that neither of them were looking for a relationship right now, and were perfectly happy as friends. That seemed to be true, both of them members of the same rec basketball team, they worked out together, partied together, constantly featuring on each other’s Instagram stories, and if Steve wasn’t texting Robin, he was texting Billy. She just couldn’t understand why they wouldn’t want to take it to the next level and become the sickeningly hot power couple that they were destined to be.

After months of begging, she’d gotten desperate just before Valentine’s Day. She approached Billy and Steve where they sat across from each other in the cafeteria, sharing a massive plate of fries. “Ok, idiots,” she said by way of greeting. “What’s it going to take to get the two of you to take a chance on each other and prove me right?”

They both paused shovelling fries in their mouth to look at each other before turning their attention to Robin. “$20,” Billy replied, dragging a fry through the big blob of ketchup on the side of the plate. “Each.”

“Ugh, fine,” Robin sighed, pulling out her wallet and extracting two twenty dollar bills. She wasn’t exactly in a financial position to be handing out cash, but it would be worth it when these two boneheads fell head over heels in love with each other.

She handed them each a bill. “You can thank me later, you dumbasses.”

***

Robin knew their date would go well, but she wasn’t quite prepared for just how well it would go. Three days later, on the morning of Valentine’s Day, she left her bedroom and went downstairs, entering her and Steve’s living room to find him on the couch, in Billy’s lap, making out super aggressively. Billy’s hands were down the back of Steve’s jeans, and Billy’s shirt was half off, Steve tweaking one of his nipples, and it appeared that they weren’t kissing so much as trying to swallow each other’s faces.

Robin cleared her throat and they both turned. She smirked at them, her hands on her hips. “So, it looks like I was right. You two are perfect for each other.”

Billy grinned at her. “We have to admit, we were both skeptical, but you were right. We’re made for each other. Look, we got matching tattoos.”

They both pushed up their shirt sleeve to show off what was indeed matching tattoos of a date. Upon further inspection, she noticed that the date was the date before. Holy shit, they were moving faster than she could have anticipated. “Ummmmm, what’s the significance of the date?”

“Our wedding day,” Steve replied. He held out his left hand for her to inspect the silver band encircling his ring finger. “We got married yesterday.”

Billy pulled Steve close and nuzzled his cheek. “We just felt like there was no point in waiting once we got together. It just felt so right to be with Steve, I wanted to lock him in fast. And we only have you to thank.”

“No, no, no, there’s no way. I take it back. You don’t need to be together. You’re too young to be married. There’s so much fun to have out there. You don’t need to settle down. Tell me this is some sick joke.”

Steve broke first, a grin spreading over his face. He started laughing, and it didn’t take long for Billy to join in. He licked a finger, swiping it down Steve’s tattoo, which thankfully started to smear.

“Oh, fuck you,” Robin shouted, walking out of the room to the kitchen. “Why the hell would you do that?”

Billy laughed. “Because it was funny. We’ve been together for weeks, Buckley. We just didn’t want to give you the satisfaction of being right. When you offered us money, it was too good to turn down.”

“Ugh, you guys suck. But I’m happy for you both. And pleased to hear that I’m right. Like I always am.”

[theimportantnone]

Prompt: Aliens discover goodie bags.

Story one

Xek had been invited to a human birthday party. He did not understand the hubbub around coming closer to death but to promote unity between the crew he accepted the invitation. Coming from a frugal race it had been hard to adjust to the abundance of quantity **and** quality prevelent in human culture as he would be described as a "lick the plate clean" kinda person. But he found solace in that meals where prepared for a number of people in mind and made accordingly large. What he did not expect was careless quantity as he saw them, so called goodie bags. A whole table was layed out of small plastic bags full of sweets and meal cubes, what a horrid waste. He knew that even if everyone invited took one there would still be dozens left to waste. This would not do, perhaps more people had been invited that he first though, friends and family on the next planet they where stopping on, as he was just helping with party prep. Once they landed he found he was wrong. Xek panicked, a primal urge to consume even to his own detriment so nothing would be wasted. He counted out every bag and every guest, and took what remained. Once the party started he heard complaints about a lack of goodie bags that apperently were promised by the hosts. Xeks stomach nearly inverted (something that only happens when his kind went into labor, it's very painful.) Apparently, the bags where not for just eating right away, but where also for giving from host to guest to guests relatives. No wonder there where sweets instead of just meal cubes, they where gifts back to the community! A thanks for being with the one who aged. Xek admitted that he ate the rest of the bags (plastic and all, he knew this was "abnormal" but his stomach was built for heavy duty eating and no waste meant no waste,) but much to his relief he was forgiven, as even more gift bags were prepared, "just cause."

Story two

Iizikiel (pronounced Ezekiel) was tasked with observing human traditions for first contact prep. "These humans are such a young species," it thought, floating above its spy console, theyre small pod invisible to all but the most advanced eyes (which thankfully on this planet belonged to a specific crustacean living far away from iizikiel's ship.)

"I must give them merit for their rapid technological development but it is clear their socio-political development is far behind, if I could choose if bar these bipeds from the union until they could find us first."

"Negative, Iizi (pronounced easy) , the councle feels their spirit would bring a wondrous boost of productivity to the union," booped his bio-mechanical companion, 2hr+d. "Shut it," replied Iizi with a frustrated belch. Being a floating jellyfish like blob wasn't always great compared to a half mech half anthropomorphic beetleish creature, but at least Iizi had electrosis and could shut up (tw-hr-pl-d, or twerpd) for real if it wanted.

Today Iizi was witnessed two humans promise monogamy for each other under their home government, known as "marriage." a large ensemble of people gathered in rows in front of the couple, as a religious figured blessed their union. "So odd that they feel the need for a higher power to allow for a union, feels very-" "insecure?" clicked twerpd. "I was going to say, superfluous, " retorted Iizi.

But then something caught Iizi's eye, little bundles of edibles, being handed out to leaving attendees. Up until now he had only witnessed eating immediately after food was presented to its recipients, extras being taken only after an initial digging in. This was something entirely different, as some people where eating the contents right away while others stuffed them in their pockets or vehicles. He would have understood that behavior if their had been a feat prior but no, it seemed these seemingly needy eaters where intentionally waiting to eat.

"What do you make of this Twerpd?"

"Iizi, this is only our 4th local rotation in tandem with this continent, maybe they we've only ever seen them hunger, perhaps they don't always need to eat when presented with food."

"But if that's true, why do so many eat to unhealthy levels, and why is food such a large industry when it's clear that knowledge of self sufficient food production is commonly available? The likely conclusion is that humans are unable to not eat when presented with food and only stop when full, normally saving leftovers or making sure no one else gets said left overs by tossing them into trash recepticals. It also explains why roundness is common place, at least on this continent. "

"we still have more to learn, as evidence also suggests that there are a multitude of cultures present here and beyond, Iizi, save your rambling conclusions for our first revolution of their home star."

Authors note

To be so honest I was three paragraphs deep into a five part story but I forgot to save and lost all of it, so I thought up these two, more hastily written stories as a replacement. Who know gift bags would be a struggle to write about.

[darkmaga-returns]

Probably nothing, but maybe not.

The Wayback Machine enables the recovery of internet records. It was allegedly subject to a cyber-attack last month, which resulted in a suspension and subsequent limitation of its facilities.

A month before the elections! “Sensitive records”???

From Brave AI:

“The Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine, a popular digital archive tool, was temporarily taken offline in October 2024 due to a cyberattack. The attack, which compromised sensitive user records, prompted the organization to take down its website and services to improve security. The Wayback Machine, which stores archived versions of websites, was eventually restored, with some limitations, by October 15, 2024.”

New, was it a cyber attack or was it an intentional limitation of records prejudicial to the “blob”, the “swamp” and the Democratic Party?

“After the October 2024 security breach, the Internet Archive took immediate action to contain the incident:

· Disabled the JavaScript (JS) library to prevent further unauthorized access

· Activated scrubbing systems to remove sensitive data from publicly accessible areas

· Upgraded security measures to prevent similar breaches in the future

“… the following limitations are in place on the Wayback Machine:

· Access restrictions: The Internet Archive has restricted access to certain areas of the Wayback Machine to prevent further unauthorized access and minimize the impact of the breach.

· Data scrubbing: The scrubbing systems are actively removing sensitive data from publicly accessible areas, including user authentication databases, to prevent exposure of compromised information.

· Temporary downtime: The Wayback Machine may experience temporary downtime or reduced functionality as the Internet Archive works to fully remediate the breach and restore services.

· Enhanced monitoring: The Internet Archive has increased monitoring and logging to detect and respond to any further suspicious activity.

“As the Internet Archive completes its investigation and remediation efforts, it is likely that additional limitations or restrictions will be lifted, and the Wayback Machine will return to its normal functioning state. However, the exact timeline for these developments is unclear and will depend on the progress of the investigation and remediation efforts.”

[bakageta]

Holiday 500 fic #6

@luxflora's prompt! I wasn't sure if I'd have time, but I finished! I hope you enjoy it <3

This is a highly undignified use of my skills, Venom complained in Eddie’s head as he stood in front of the mirror.

“Nuh-uh, you don’t get to whine. You accepting the text invite is what got us into this in the first place.” On his own, Eddie wasn’t much for office holiday parties. He preferred celebrating with friends and chosen family, if he celebrated at all, But Venom had accepted the last minute invitation to the Center for Investigative Reporting’s holiday party.

Because we need to get out more! Socialize! It shifted grumpily against Eddie’s small intestines. We don’t need to participate in trivial contests.

“True. But–” Eddie cut Venom off before it could butt in “–if I have to suffer through an office party then you have to suffer through a tacky sweater contest.”

Unfair!

“Fine, then.” Eddie crossed his arms with a huff. “I’ll just go and get some shitty sweater from Walmart and get last place.”

NO! It’ll be itchy!

“Exactly! That’s why I want you to be my sweater! ‘Sides, you’ve been bugging me about being my clothes for months. I figured you’d jump on this.”

You are still going to wear a shirt under me!

“Yeah? I’d still wear a shirt underneath a normal sweater, too?”

I want to be your only clothes. It paused and climbed hopefully up Eddie’s spine. I do not want to have to remember to be your sweater and not digest your shirt at the same time.

In all fairness, Eddie also didn’t want to wear an itchy sweater from the remains of Walmart’s holiday section this close to the end of December. He just hesitated at having Venom directly on his skin, no barrier between them, at a public party. It felt entirely too intimate. Also, Venom could be an absolute shithead about teasing him.

I will behave!

“Fine,” Eddie sighed and shucked his shirt off. “But you better be the best tacky sweater CIR’s ever seen.”

We will blow their tits clean off! Venom declared. It started emerging before Eddie could ask it where it had heard that particular phrase.

The cool prickling was familiar, though it was limited to Eddie’s upper body and arms. Venom’s concentration was palpable to Eddie as he felt the currents of its mass shift and the structure of its plasma alter shape. The blob enveloping his chest gains texture, and unthinkingly, Eddie runs a hand along Venom’s surface. It’s soft like cashmere and flinches underneath his hand.

Don’t distract me! Venom snapped and pinched Eddie’s side.

Eddie yelped, but stayed quiet as Venom started adjusting its colors.

At first it was black and white only, and then grays faded in until an image formed. Above and below were patterns of generic Christmas designs, though as Eddie watched those designs became lewd: reindeer fucking, baubles like balls at the bases of phallic candles, snowmen with a strategically located extra carrot. In the center was Santa lounging naked except for his hat and a large candy cane providing modesty. Saint Nick was in front of a merrily burning fireplace and heavily decorated Christmas tree.

Good?

“Excellent,” Eddie agreed with a grin, as bright, obnoxious colors faded onto Venom’s sweater form.

[dreamwatch]

STWG daily prompt 19/10/23

Prompt: costume

c/w tiny reference to alcoholic parent, brief mentions of John Wayne Gacy and his crimes, no details.

****

Eddie hated Loch Nora. It was supposed to be aspirational. Who in their right mind wanted to aspire to this? Faux Grecian pillars, dinner parties, two point four kids, banality. Conformity.

Fuck conformity.

He sat parked up on the street corner watching kids stream by, laughing and screaming at each other, trading swag from their bags. Eddie loved Halloween, but he’d never had this growing up. The cute costumes, a well coiffed mom to take you from door to door, showing you off to the neighbours. Isn’t he so cute? Even if his mother had ever been sober enough to take him trick or treating, he sure as shit wasn’t going to have any one call him cute, not where they lived.

He had to admit, some of the costumes were really cool. He’d seen a Han Solo, two Lukes and two Leias, and a few that could have been Chewbacca, Ewoks or Gremlins. It was hard to see from where he was sitting, they were just small, furry blobs. The Pac-Man got points for originality though.

Eddie stubbed out his cigarette, grinding it into the ashtray. He’d wasted a half hour here waiting for some rich dick and his friends to come meet him on a weed run, but he was calling it quits. There was a party tonight and they were probably already there. If Eddie found them they’d still get their weed, but they’d be getting the Munson Markup. Pricks.

He watched as four kids dressed as the Ghostbusters crossed the street in front of him. They were almost identical, and one of them even had a ghost trap. Fucking cool. The random Michael Myers tagging along was pretty gnarly aswell. Weird. Just how he liked it.

Eddie fired up the engine, and cringed as the old girl spluttered to life, the sound of Number of the Beast filling the van and drowning out the shrieks and laughter from outside. He was supposed to have left town in the summer, leaving the van behind for scrap, but fuck you very much Hawkins High. He was stuck here for another year. Eighty five, baby. In the meantime he had to nurse her gently or he was facing a long hike back to the trailer.

He was about to pull away when he caught the flutter of movement, a body on the floor. One of his little Ghostbusters. A group of older kids raced away. Huh. Yeah, no, fuck that.

He watched as the kid and his friend took off, before he got out of the van and sauntered up behind a shitty werewolf and his friends. The worlds worst Jason Vorhees and sick little fuck Anthony Arnoli was bringing up the rear, dressed as John Wayne Gacy. Motherfuckers.

“Good evening, boys, lovely night for it, isn’t it?”

The three of them spun round to face him. There hadn’t many plus sides to repeating senior year, but notching up the intimidation factor by a good fifty percent was definitely one.

“Fuck off, freak,” said Werewolf. Brian something. He recognised him up close. Eddie stalked right up to him like he was prey.

“That’s Mister Freak to you, Brian.”

“What do you want, Eddie?” Anthony asked, and gosh he had really tried, but Eddie knew he was scared. How perfect on Halloween of all nights. He spun on his heel, getting right in the boys face.

“Nothing much, just don’t like big kids picking on little kids.”

He could see them lighten at that, relax like he just wasn’t in on the joke. 

“It was just zombie boy.”

“Who the fuck is… the Byers kid?”

Two goofy faces and a hockey mask stared back at him, laughing and nodding. Eddie wasn’t a bleeding heart, he had enough issues if his own to deal with and he just didn’t have time for every sob story, but this pissed him off. Maybe because it felt a little too close to home.

 He didn’t know the kid, but he did know his big brother, Jonathan, and he was a good guy. On the freak dial like Eddie, just on another frequency. That family had been through hell last year, and even after the little kid was found alive (after his funeral, which… yeah, Eddie had questions he didn’t know if he wanted answers to) the town still ragged on his mom. A person who according to Wayne, tore the town a new one trying to find her kid.

Eddie felt the flash of pain of not having that. It was good, though. Helped sour his mood even further.

He pulled his knife out of his pocket, twirled it around his fingers.

“Hand it over,” he said, motioning to the sacks of candy with his free hand.

“Wha-“

He flicked the blade open on the knife, scowling at them, enjoying the way they shrunk back as he drew himself up like an angry alley cat.

 “I’ve come dressed as Heavy Metal Robin Hood,” he growled. “I’m stealing from the stupid and giving to the smart. So hand me the fucking bags and then go home.”

They hesitated for a moment, looking between themselves, as if they were hoping one of them would have the balls to say no.

“I haven’t got all night, dickwads!”

They handed over the bags, muttered curses hidden under their breath.

“Right, fuck off. And you!” he pointed at Anthony. “That shit isn’t funny. The guy was a sick fuck who murdered boys. Burn that fucking costume, asshole.”

He watched them head off out of Loch Nora before climbing back in the van. He rifled though the bags, and they’d had a good night, or someone else had and they’d done to some kid what Eddie had just done to them. Eddie took a good look through his haul, cherry picking Wayne’s favourites, and then split the rest into two bags. If he was fast he might still catch them.

It only took a couple of minutes of driving to find them, though they were down to two Ghostbusters and a fictional serial killer. It looked like the Byers kid had gone home. Poor guy.

Eddie pulled up beside them, wound down his window and whistled. “Hey, Venkman, c’mhere.”

The three of them froze, and eyed him suspiciously. Venkman and one he thought might be Stantz bickered between themselves on what to do next. Eventually the little serial killer stomped toward his van, pulling off the mask.

“God, you’re fucking losers,” said the girl before looking up at him. “What do you want?”

Eddie smiled, genuinely delighted by her attitude. “I come bearing gifts, children.” He dropped the two bags of candy to the ground. “Make sure you’re other two friends get a cut of that, okay? Especially little Byers.”

“You know Will?” said the curly haired Stantz.

“I know his brother, and I know he’s had a rough night. So, feast up little gremlins. Happy Halloween, buttheads!”

He took the turning back toward Forest Hill’s, no longer interested in dealing to the kind of assholes that thought picking on traumatised kids was funny. He was stuck here for another year, and there would be more parties. Home was far more appealing.  

[stunnedstarker]

Prompt: “Proposal”

Extravagant dinner parties have always been a regular occurrence in Avengers Tower. So, Peter had thought it only natural to throw a slightly smaller backyard party as a housewarming for the new cottage. It wasn’t until he was nearly dressed that he noticed an embossed envelope left on Tony’s nightstand and realized that perhaps Tony had been making other plans.

Of course he couldn’t help but open it, no matter his better judgement. But when he saw the beginning of the careful handwriting, “Hey, kid,” he smiled so big and wide and laughed as tears welled in his eyes. He tucked the letter away and hurriedly finished dressing before their guests arrived. He spent the whole night buzzing, nearly bouncing off his chair. Tony surely noticed, as he wrapped a warm, steady hand over Peter’s thigh, and suddenly being held down made Peter feel uniquely free.

Knowing Tony, Peter had expected to hear the speech at dinner, in front of all their friends, where Tony could boast and make jokes and be adored. Instead, Peter was carefully wiping cheesecake from his lips with a silk cloth by the time Tony leaned over and whispered, “Come with me. I want to show you something in the garden.”

Tony saved every ounce of the adoration for Peter. He held Peter’s hand as they strolled leisurely along the paved path, smiling wide though no words had been said. Eyes averted with a laugh, Tony tried turning to him with a smile and an easy, breathless, “Hey, kid.”

But Peter’s eyes had already formed tears, and Tony choked, stopping in his tracks and turning to face him. “You’re- You look amazing, and- you… you’ve been– by my side for– oh, God,” he sighed as Peter’s tears reddened his eyes and wet his cheeks. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“Of course I knew, Tony. Yes.”

“No, no. Wait, I’m not done yet, I have to- uh-“ Tony sputters as he carefully steps backward and begins bending a knee. “Hang on, this isn’t as easy as it used to be.”

“Tony, you don’t have to-“

“I do.”

“Yeah, that. Let’s skip to that.”

“Peter, just…” Tony trails off, having made it to the ground, and Peter giggles, swaying side to side as he holds both of Tony’s hands.

The wait is worth it, turns out, because Tony’s speech has Peter sobbing, gasping, and so enthralled he doesn’t notice the team gathering behind them. Until, of course, Tony’s trembling hand slips the ring on that third finger, and the entire group cheers.

Peter just laughs, watching them wave signs and fists as he helps Tony up, then pulls him in for a kiss.

A/N: Hopefully sorbet doesn’t see this and think I’m a talentless blob, but this is what I was trying to whip up within the last few hours of @starkerfestivals bingo. Not sure it’ll count so I’m not putting the card in, but thought it might still be nice to share while I’m here.

Update: It did count :)

[login-required]

Vae Porwave

So what happens when we try to play with references and combine media?

The fall of aesthetic Rome:

(prompt: "An image that suggests "vaporwave is dead" by showing a group of raving cybergoths wearing gas masks and dreadlocks, and one of them is dancing on top of the toppled classical marble statue, in the midst of marble ruins covered in neon grafitti [sic], with a neon pink sunset in the background.")

In this case, the texture on the cybergoths is less than impressive. The desecrated standing statue seems to have join in the partying - which though not very realistic, does suggest the advent of a new eclectic style. The broken bust's midnight black eyes aren't adding much though.

When Gauls deserve to die:

(prompt: "the dying cybergoth" statuette imitating the "dying gaul", carved malachite, ebony and ivory and glowing paint")

I tried many different approaches to a dying cybergoth. At some point an AI assistant, with enough handholding, would do me a web search of the OG dying gaul, extract relevant descriptors, and then use those to generate a new prompt for a dying cybergoth. Unfortunately the results weren't very nice to look at and just ressembled a messy hallucinated picture of a street party (which is... not totally unreasonable). Out of a multitude of iterations trying to get the 'cyber' and 'death' elements to pop a bit more, I quite liked this one -- with metallic bones and sinews and a pretty cool visor, and vaguely skull-shaped blobs on the base -- though the both the Gaul's posture and pathos, and the Cybergoth's swag, are unfortunately lost!

[betweenthetimeandsound]

Caroline's Nightmare

--prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial

Twitching her fingers, Caroline tried to imagine playing a nocturne, while summoning the few sparks that the tips could conjure. Like a lamb struggling to leave a cruel owner, she edged herself so that the ropes would loosen, but they only remained persistent in their purpose to subdue the magic fermenting in her blood.

The crowds multiplied in front of her--despite their burnished faces and their constant conversations, they only mutated into an anonymous blob. Only in parties would she note the toxic energy which pervaded a crowded room, one which mixed the scent of grilled pork with blooming oranges and the slight taste of gardenia. Kicking her legs to get them to move, she only felt the splintered wood pierce into her back, letting droplets of blood fall onto the pyre.

A mysterious woman sauntered over to her, with only an emerald cloak to distinguish her from the rest of the crowd. The fire she bore on her torch wasn't the ordinary kind, born out of oxygen reacting to anything it touches. It burned ice, with wispy sparks falling as if they were bits of moonlight falling out of the sky. Caroline marveled on how they fizzled on the ground, as if it were just dried ice for the stage, not for the execution.

"Do you parents know you have magical powers?" The woman whispered, never giving away her identity for even a moment. Caroline trembled, but escape eluded her like

"No."

"Why did you garner powers over fire?"

"I don't know--I just suddenly noticed them one day and just learned more about it. I'm not that special to receive such magic. Nor would I know how to improve them," Caroline mumbled, seeking for a sympathetic eye.

The woman nodded. A golden brown lock fell in front of her face, but she gently brushed it back into her hood. The glory in her velvet hood contrasted to Caroline's simple denim and cotton ensemble, her bare feet stood out for paling in contrast to the burnished landscape.

"What I have done to you?" Caroline asked.

"No, but you will do something worthwhile for me after this," the woman murmured, holding the icy flame to Caroline's face. Her eyes widened and her turquoise irises glowed with a sudden light, turning into a grayish blue. Grabbing at her ropes, Caroline kicked to get a better view of the crowd, of which another woman shuffled through the crowd. A pot crowned her head, but she balanced herself as she held a silver talisman in her right hand, hanging by a black chord. Silence reigned as she faced Caroline, who glanced down at this sorceress.

"Who are you?" Caroline asked. "Why are you familiar?"

"I could save you, should you desire," the woman muttered, while focusing on the icy flame. "You have to speak for yourself, and then you can be free."

Caroline's mouth gaped, trying to comprehend everything. Struggling to get her hand on the talisman, the mysterious woman grimaced before tossing the torch at the pyre, turning the wood into a glistening fire.

[wajjs]

✨prompt party prompt party prompt: robinpile + slice of life?✨

you said robinpile and i made it my mission to include as many characters as i fucking could

My youth is yours

In the intersection of meaty thighs and broad shoulders they meet almost every night, when the bruises aren't too big and the soul scars have stopped bleeding. The start of all this is unclear, and each of them will take it back to a different cause. It came in naturally, perhaps because of overexposure or from lack of any kind of exposure at all.

Tonight's not a night for thinking.

Sprawled out on the couch, bandages holding his ribs in place and a bruise the size of a building on his face, Tim stays put and it would've been a surprise if Steph wasn't the one keeping him there. As it is, Jason laughs as he goes to sit next to blondie, wraps an arm around her stomach and squeezes her middle like it means nothing. (It means comfort.)

"Brick to the face?" Duke asks from where he's sitting, on top of the table instead of using one of the many empty chairs. No one says anything, though, because they are all the same.

"He fucking wishes," Steph laughs, leaning into Jason's side and her legs are still thrown over Tim's lap. Tim knows better than to try and pry them off.

"Yeah, Timbo's masochist strike didn't get to come in handy this time," with a snort, Jason kisses the top of Steph's head, sends Tim a playful look, "or maybe it did."

With a slightly nasal voice, Tim groans, and it's not because of his cracked ribs—not this time.

"Not a masochist."

Dick calls, just then. Says he will be there soon, he's bringing Damian with him. 

The nest is certainly big enough.

-

Duke is eating pancakes the second Jason gets them out of the pan. He complains as he burns his fingers, his tongue, his lips, but he keeps doing it and Jason's nothing if not the biggest enabler. So they keep it up.

"You better leave some!" Steph yells from the living room, this time carefully cuddling into Tim's side, and they are keeping the t.v. low enough so that it doesn't drown out any kind of sound.

Which is why they all hear Dick coming up the rickety stairs, followed by Damian. Jason playfully snaps Duke's hand away when he goes for another one.

"Didn't you hear the boss?" he says, making the other laugh and when he presses a kiss to the corner of Jason's mouth, it tastes like butter.

The front door opens. Dick's voice is loud enough to bring actual life to a zombie party. 

"Alfred made cake!"

"Shit," Tim can be heard saying, "we better call Harper and Cass, they will be so disappointed if we don't let them know—"

"They are on their way here," Damian scoffs and he's presumably the one to close the door because Dick surely didn't.

It's a calm night. A rare night, as it is.

-

When Jason gets caught under rubble with no comms and a broken helmet, everyone else goes absolutely crazy in their frantic search for him. Because, because—they can't pinpoint his position. Among all the explosions and crumbling buildings, they have lost track of each other and—

Damian finds a little kid crying as she hugs onto her dirty plastic toy. She's on her butt sitting in front of yet another pile of debris and she's hyperventilating and—

"Big sis," she sobs out with big fat tears rolling down her cheeks, "big sis is… is… he," and Damian's mental approach to the situation flips on its entirety, "he said, said he was gonna…," the little girl hiccups, choking on air and on her own spit. He pats her back awkwardly. He's not Grayson. "He was g-gonna… gonna get her, her out a-and…"

He nods and tries to give her a reassuring smile. He's sure he fails.

"Found Hood's whereabouts," Damian speaks into the comms and everyone starts talking one over the other, "stuck under rubble with a civilian. Requesting backup."

Which he didn't really need to do, because everyone who was ever Robin and then some is rushing to help.

-

Where they are, the bed is almost not big enough to fit all of them yet no one wants to move because—loss had been too close to them yet again. And it never gets easier.

Cass is the one awake when Jason's eyes flutter open. She smiles at him and that's the first thing he sees. Then he groans, because he tried to move a broken arm to touch her and he didn't know it was broken. That wakes everyone else up.

"Jay!" Dick cries out with a wobbly smile on his face.

Duke has to disentangle himself from somewhere half under Steph and Harper to reach out, squeeze Jason above his right knee where he's not hurt. "Fucking asshole," he says and everyone agrees.

"Ya love me," is all he gets to say before they all start complaining.

They do love him, though.

He's always right about that.

-

They are all squeezed in a corner booth, fries and burgers strewn over the table and Damian, with Cass' input, is drawing a detailed map of all the places in the city they are going to hide surprises for Steph to find. Her birthday's getting close, after all, and she always enjoys a good chase.

"Who's gonna be bait?" Harper has her mouth full with fries and it's a little gross but no one judges her.

"Duke," Jason says without thinking at the same time Duke says:

"Dick."

Silence takes over for exactly one minute.

"Why me?"

Duke snorts. "She gets to chase your ass all over the city. She'll love that."

"Ooh yes," Tim's smiling so widely he's practically a billboard sign promoting mischief, "can I join her?"

"Can we all?" Harper grins.

Frowning, Damian kicks Tim's leg under the table. "No. This is for Steph."

"Awwwww," cooing in a disgustingly fake voice, Jason waves a soggy fry in Damian's general direction. "You luuuuuuve her!"

"We are all one big polyclue, Jason," Duke leans into his side, steals a bite off his burger.

"Yes," Cass then reaches out to grab all of his fries, "he loves her."

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 89 }

OK overture.

denji x fem.reader

10 stages of love

{ but i'm not dead yet, so i guess i'll be alright. }

1. first sight

you weren't expecting your life as a university student to be so damn difficult or boring. barely twenty years old, you had high hopes of experiencing the exciting kind of life, filled with parties and study dates with friends, maybe even meet a cute guy or two.

yet sadly for you, you experienced none of those things. instead, your university days were filled with stressful deadlines, abhorrent exams, and late nights spent studying while consuming unhealthy amounts of caffeine pills just to get by.

there was an emptiness felt within the depths of your heart, one that you weren't sure what you could even do to fill it. you truly weren't expecting your life to be so bland, and that more than anything else was what put such a damper on your mood.

unable to take the sight of your plain apartment much longer, you dress in your favorite pair of sweatpants and don a hoodie for warmth, deciding that a trip to the café would cheer you up. perhaps you could buy something warm while filling your stomach with all the pastries you can afford?

just thinking about it all was enough to make your stomach begin to growl, prompting you to quicken your pace. however, there was one tiny little detail you forgot, a devastating trait to have while living in a time where cellphones hadn't become quite as advanced as they were today-

you were hopeless when it came to directions, more often than not, you spent your days getting lost in the midst of the city. hell, if it wasn't for the fact that you took the same train every morning to get to your classes, you'd probably never make it to school, either.

when you thought you recalled where the café was located, you ended up being completely wrong. the constant twists and turns you took leads you to so many dead ends. you were now questioning yourself, really wondering if you could find this damn café after all.

as your wandering takes you to yet another dead-end, this time within the depths of a dark alley, fate seemed cruel enough to play a joke on you. before you could leave, there was a strange sound heard coming from behind you. the sound was wet, being reminiscent of a snail or a slug trailing its slime against the wet pavement while in the rain.

but...no snail or slug could be that big, right? the lighting in the alleyway was dim, with the single overhead light constantly blinking on and off. as you strained your eyes to see what that figure was, you tricked your mind into thinking that it was a dripping wet dog, whimpering because it had accidentally fallen into a river or some puddle.

filled with both a curiosity and a desire to help the mutt, you step closer to the hulking figure. "hey buddy, it's going to be okay. are you-"

you trail off, becoming frozen on the spot when the sudden stench hits you, like rotting flesh and decay. instinctively, you cover your mouth with both hands, but the memory of such a powerful stench was enough to make you gag. it was at that exact moment the figure reveals itself, finally coming into the light as you could merely see a blob the color of mud. its eyes and mouth kept sliding off its face, further fueling your anxieties as you were positive witnessing something so horrifying would forever taint your very memories.

you had come into contact with a devil-

and truly, what shitty luck did you have to warrant such a meeting?

completely frozen on the spot, you felt your body take slow steps away from the nightmarish creature. but unfortunately for you, your flight or fight response was delayed. the moment you took back control of your body, ready to run away when the creature reaches out to you, engulfing you within its foul scent as you struggled to breathe.

"devour, need to devour such a sweet morsel." its voice was guttural, sending shivers down your spine as your body slowly sunk inside a beast, like a body sinking in quicksand.

your scream reverberates across the alleyway, with tears dotting your vision as you reached out your hand as far as you could manage, begging for something, anything to come and save you. the thick and toxic mud ends up overtaking your senses, and before you could lose consciousness while ceasing your breaths-

you felt a hand forcefully pull you out from the devil's grip, its disgusting mud staining at your clothes as you felt globs of it sliding down your body. the slick sensation of the disgusting slime surrounding you makes you feel nauseous as you gag almost immediately, unable to get rid of the scent since it had now completely drenched you.

struggling to get to your feet, you pinch your nose shut to see the sight of your savior standing in front of you. immediately, you felt panicked. this guy was just too lanky, and you could only see his bare back as it faced you. unruly strands of blond hair decorate his head, and you were concerned with how his lanky form stood without fear in front of the poisonous devil. despite how the beast roared at him in anger, the strange man retained his almost nonchalant stance-

that is, until he turns back to face you with a wink and a smirk, "wanna watch me do something cool?"

you weren't given the chance to answer him. all you could see was how he pulled at an odd string settled on the middle of his chest before a chainsaw rips his head in half. letting out a blood curdling scream, you swore you felt as though you were going to faint, your heart caught within the confines of your throat when the man finally reveals himself.

gone were his messy blond locks. all that covered his face was a metal mask with a deadly chainsaw sticking out of it. not only had his head turned into a chainsaw, but the entirety of his arms as well, the deadly blades acting as a shield as he shredded the devil into tiny bits and pieces.

you weren't sure how you were supposed to feel. the more rational part of you knew that you had to feel afraid of this man who clearly had a devil half-

but the stronger part felt more intrigue for him than anything else.

in just mere seconds, the chainsaw man comes out victorious, with his dirty converses standing in the puddle left over from the devil's destruction. once he was sure it was over, the chainsaw man steps closer to you. unsure of why you didn't want to move or run away, you end up standing completely still, allowing him to reach out and touch at your cheek gently with the tip of his chainsaw.

"you're lucky you're so damn cute."

that was all he said in that strange voice of his before jumping away from you, disappearing against one of the rooftops as you felt your legs give away, unable to hold your weight any longer.

with your heart pounding within your chest, not with fear but with excitement, you knew that your first meeting ever with the chainsaw man would forever be imprinted within your memories.

2. introduction

ever since that fateful night when you were saved by chainsaw man himself, you became a tad bit obsessed with him. he was just so cool, so powerful and fearless when he had saved your life. that strange half devil hybrid was the spark you needed in your life, and it was thanks to him that you finally felt so alive- hell, it was because of him that you were still alive.

unfortunately, such a cool meeting came with a heavy price, mainly in the form of how the stench of the toxic devil still remained attached to your body regardless of the sheer number of showers you took whilst lathering copious amounts of body wash on your form. during those first few weeks, you had to cover your scent with a variety of perfumes in hopes of masking the stench of decay left over from that night.

despite the number of complaints your peers told you, telling you that your perfume was overwhelming and headache inducing, you knew that it was better to give them a migraine than make them feel nauseous whenever you were around.

but you digress-

roughly two months had passed, and you were still searching for any signs of the chainsaw man. when you asked around your university questions pertaining to who it might be, no one had a clue what you were talking about. and all the books you read within your university's library spoke little of a human/devil hybrid.

with a sigh, you figured that it was completely hopeless to try and find out anything about your savior. you were quickly becoming dejected now, with no signs of the man with the dirty blond hair anywhere in sight.

not wanting to wallow in your despair for too long, you decide to visit the udon stand settled within close proximity of your university. the owner and cook, recognizing you almost immediately, welcomes you with open arms as he let out a hearty laugh whilst saying your name. "the usual for you?"

"absolutely." taking your spot on the stand, you wait eagerly for your favorite bowl of udon. you kick your legs back and forth with your hands clasped against the table.

you paid no attention to the person that suddenly sat next to you, their proximity completely noticeable when you could feel the right side of your arm touching them. with your faced scrunched up in dismay, you were about to move seats had it not been for the fact that your beef udon had already arrived.

"here ya go, miss! and as always, enjoy!"

"wah! that looks amazing! 'scuse me, sir, but i will definitely have what she's having!"

cue a rich chuckle coming from the owner himself. "absolutely, young man. one beef udon comin' right up!"

you couldn't help but feel slighly annoyed at this man's childish behavior, ready to scold him as the words hung heavy against the tip of your tongue-

but upon seeing him for the first time, you felt them die against your throat. with messy locks of blond hair and eyes the color of smooth, hot chocolate. he was dressed in a jacket and a pair of jeans, but those worn converses were undeniable.

he was the chainsaw man; the same man you had dedicated your time trying to find.

the young man appears nervous from being scrutinized with your wide-eyed gaze, letting out a cough before saying, "uhm, long time no see?"

yet all you could manage was a shaky whisper of this single phrase: "chainsaw-"

but that was all you could say when he immediately places a hand over your mouth, looking panicked while darting his eyes around the area, "please, just call me denji."

3. interaction

"denji?" you test the sound of his name against your lips, repeating it a few times as the boy settled next to you slowly begins to turn pink in response.

"i like it." returning your attention back to the steaming bowl of udon, you grab your chopsticks and clasp your hands together, "thank you for this meal!"

you dig into your bowl of noodles, suddenly not minding denji's close proximity when he receives his own bowl of noodles just minutes later. he repeats your actions before slurping up his own noodles.

you ate in a comfortable silence, neither one of you speaking as you each simply enjoyed the bowl of udon. "you know, you're being kind of rude." denji wasn't facing you when he said that strange phrase.

"oh? and what makes me so rude?" you take casual sips of the broth, looking at the blond expectantly as a sheepish expression paints his features.

"well, you didn't tell me your name yet, and that's kinda what i wanted to know."

"hmm." you lick your lips, the sight of your actions not going unnoticed by denji as his eyes suddenly hones in on your lips. thinking that it was only fair that he know your name as well, you tell it to him and listen when he does the same thing you did with his name.

he repeats the syllables that make up your name a few times before grinning widely at you, "i think i like the sound of it."

you cheeks felt heated, and you continue to eat your bowl of udon, but this time, you could barely taste the deliciousness of the broth and how well it tied the noodles and the beef together. instead, your stomach kept twisting each time you felt denji purposely lean into you whilst enjoying his bowl.

within seconds, he finishes his meal entirely, leaving behind an empty bowl. digging into the pocket of his jeans, he places a few bills against the table, paying for your portion of the meal as well before beckoning you to follow him.

"come on, let's take a walk."

it was as though he put a spell on you, for that was all the urging from denji you needed to follow him wherever he went.

4. attraction

denji was by no means the cute and handsome boy of your dreams. he appeared disheveled, as if that were his fashion statement as he walked with a natural slumped posture. he keeps his hands hidden, buried deep within the confines of his jeans while keeping his gaze focused on the pavement in front of him.

"so you gonna ask me 'bout that night or what?"

his blunt words make you wince in response. "do you actually remember me?"

denji takes a look at you from the corner of his eyes. "hell yeah i do. can't ever forget a cute face like yours." he seems smug then, rubbing at the tip of his nose with the back of his hand all while smirking.

"heh, okay smartass." you purposely run your hip against his, making the smug expression falter as you continued to walk closely beside him.

"how long have you had such powers?"

"uh, since i was seventeen?"

"and how old are you now?"

"twenty."

you giggle, facing him with a smile on your face. "cool, so the chainsaw man is my age."

you continue to walk in silence, and from your periphery, you could see the way denji was turning red with a blush. even the tip of his ears was pink now, and it was truly such an adorable sight.

"so do you go around saving people from devils like a vigilante or something?"

"heh, nope! i only go around saving cute girls like yourself." he gives you another toothy grin, showing you its sharpness while running a hand through his unruly locks of hair. "the goal of it is to have the girl become so in love with me that she takes me back to her place, where she can show her thanks for me by spreading her legs as i lose myself in her."

you could feel your cheeks burn with the audacity of his wishes, trying to hold back your laughter as a snort ends up escaping from your lips. "and how's that working out for you?"

"ugh, terribly. here i am, in my twenties, and i'm still not getting any."

now, you couldn't hold back your laughter any longer as ugly snorts and giggles came out of you. denji was so refreshing to you, with his honesty and bluntness that delighted you in so many ways. you kept on laughing, with your stomach twisting in pain as denji simply stood there, watching you with an unreadable expression on his face.

you didn't know how long you just stood there, laughing like an idiot while in front of denji. finally calming down, you wipe the stray tears from your eyes and give him an apologetic smile. "sorry about that, denji. you're just so funny, so honest with your desires that i couldn't help but laugh at what a total guy you are."

but instead of joining you in your laughter, denji gently reaches out to you, allowing the back of his hand to brush against your cheek when he tells you in a breathless whisper,

"you're so fucking adorable. please, go on a date with me."

5. date

denji is so not your type.

he's definitely not your dream come true.

and to top it all off, he seems so shameless-

so what the hell prompted you to accept his invitation to a date saturday night?

was it due to the fact that he was the chainsaw man you had been searching for? was your intrigue with him due to the fact that he had literally saved your life?

you couldn't say for sure why denji fascinated you, but all you knew was that you were eager to get to know him better. something about him just drew you into him, and more than anything else, denji seemed to be drowning in his own loneliness.

something must have happened in his past, but you didn't dare bring up anything so personal when you've only met him a handful of times.

but you were willing to stick around and try.

with you dressed comfortably for your date with denji, you stand outside of your train station, waiting for him to appear. your eyes kept looking around for any signs of him, and the moment you had your gaze off of the streets was when you felt someone press themselves against your back.

you stiffen, about to scream had it not been for the teasing whisper of your name against your ear, "hey cutie, were you waiting for me?"

"d-denji!" he lets go of you then with a teasing smile on his face. dressed in a shirt and another pair of jeans along with his converses (his signature style, you suppose), he holds up his hands in mock surrender. "my bad my bad, didn't mean to scare ya. let's just get going, okay?"

placing a hand behind your back, he leads you inside the station, finally starting your date you had been anticipating.

6. holding hands

your date with denji ends up being the most fun you've had. he takes you to one of his favorite arcades located in the city, where you spent hours beating each other with the various games. whilst in the arcade, you shared an extra-large pepperoni pizza, laughing at all the funny faces he made and terrible jokes he tells you.

when you had your fill of the arcade, denji takes a hold of all the tickets you had won in combination with his, going up to the gift counter to exchange the tickets for a cute little teddy bear. he shows you the adorable plush, holding on to what looked like a sunflower within its brown paws. your smile couldn't be any wider, accepting the cute plush while giving it several kisses.

meanwhile, denji kept looking at you embracing the teddy bear tightly against your chest. he tries to convince himself that no, he was not getting jealous of some stupid teddy bear-

but ends up failing miserably.

"come on, it looks really nice out tonight. let's go out and admire the stars or something."

taking a hold of one of your hands, he interlocks them together with his fingertips. unconsciously, denji ends up shivering at the contact, swearing that he's never felt a hand so soft before while taking you away from the arcade.

7. first kiss

the teddy bear that denji had gotten for you was still settled safely on your lap as you sat with denji on the water fountain. the gentle gurgle of water was all that was heard as denji kept his gaze at the stars scattered above him.

you were feeling awkward now, pulling at your teddy bear's ears as you tried to find the right words to say to him. with your legs drawn up close to your chest, you sigh and decided that it was best to be honest with him.

"denji?"

"yeah?"

"i ah...i really had a great time with our date. it's been so long since i've been to an arcade, and i loved it."

"hm, that's good."

you shift uncomfortably beside him. "why are you acting like i'm such a nuisance now? didn't you have a good time as well?"

"you bet your cute ass i did."

you ignore his use of profanity at that moment, feeling your frustrations about to reach a boiling point. "then why aren't you acting like you're having a good time?!"

"because i'm consumed with thoughts of wanting to kiss you. but i don't wanna scare you off on our first date."

finally hearing his confession, you look at him to see him glaring at the sky, refusing to meet your gaze. his rough admission causes a surge of warmth to course through your veins, and you could feel yourself swallowing thickly as you tried to find the right words to say.

should i...? or should i not...?

with a sigh, you purposely slide closer to him, allowing your shoulders to meet with his as you rest your head against him. "then why don't you?"

your words causes denji to do a double take, whipping his head around so quickly that you were afraid he was going to break his neck. "w-what?"

"you heard me. i said why don't you kiss me already."

you figured denji would be filled with hot air now, puffing up his chest as he kissed you with confidence-

yet instead, you watch as denji becomes even redder in response. he hides his mouth from your curious gaze with his hand, eyes looking at anything but you.

"denji...?"

"j-just give me a damn minute, okay?! i-i never had a girl i wanted to kiss so badly actually let me kiss her before...!"

ah, so this boy was all bark and no bite after all.

with a smile on your face, you gently place a hand on his chin, forcing him to face you. his eyes appeared so hopeful, so needy for even an ounce of your affections. letting out a sigh of his name, you allow your lips to perfectly slant against his, giving him a kiss denji was sure to cherish for the rest of his life.

8. relationship

you couldn't quite put a label on whatever was going on between you and denji.

all you knew was that he made you happy. his presence measured up to that of the sun itself. despite his gruff language and perverted nature he tries to display, you found that he was so warm and kind. there were different aspects to denji's personality, and little by little, you were certain that you were slowly breaking down his walls.

tonight, denji had suddenly appeared at your apartment during the middle of the night. he looked half-asleep, with the way the dark circles seemed to darken beneath his eyes as his arms hung limply by his sides.

yet the moment he sees you, denji perks up immediately, taking you in his arms as he makes his way to your bedroom. when he lays down, settling you on top of him with your cheek pressed against his chest, you could feel the gentle beatings of his heart.

you felt so soft then, your affections for the man you had quickly grown so attached to-

but did he feel the same way?

you sigh, burying your face within his chest, tracing at the chainsaw cord that served as his means of turning into chainsaw man. denji immediately stops your hands from exploring any further, "no, don't. i don't want you to get hurt."

"what am i to you?" you whisper to him, feeling your insecurities take over as you played with the front of his shirt.

"hah?"

"have you been saving any other cute girls lately?" was the question you end up asking, refusing to meet his confused gaze as you kept the fabric of his shirt clutched tightly in your hand.

denji then takes a hold of your hands, freeing his shirt from their tight grip. you half expected him to leave you right then and there, feeling the tears begin to dot your vision as you fought to keep your breathing even.

you refused to cry, even when denji decides to leave you.

yet he blows all of your expectations out of the water when he clasps your hands together to press a kiss against the back of them. "nah, you're the only cute girl i wanna save."

taking your silence as proof that you had finally calmed down, he adjusts his hold on you so that you now lay within his arms, with his chest pressed against your back. you felt the way his body heat seemed to engulf you, trapping you in a safe cocoon as you smile in response.

"what am i to you?" you ask once more, this time with your voice ringing loud and clear from the confines of your room.

"isn't it obvious?" you feel the way denji lets out an exasperated breath against your hair. "you're my girlfriend, and i couldn't ask for anyone better than you."

9. love

life truly had a sense of humor.

never would you have ever expected to fall in love with someone like denji. when you first met him, he seemed so far away from what you considered your ideal type-

the one that was prim and proper, with an education that matches yours plus having great ambitions.

well, you suppose you could take back that last bit, since denji has shown you that he has plenty of ambition, even if they were a bit misplaced before he met you.

"i used to want to take over the world with my powers, you know? make all of japan bend to my will and get all the women and riches i desired."

he tells you of his dreams one night when you were both cuddling on the couch, watching some boring sitcom that you didn't bother to try and recall the title of. all of your focus was on denji and the way he softly smiled down at you.

"but now, that shit doesn't matter anymore. now that i got you in my arms, i feel as though every single one of my dreams have come true."

with a kiss filled with passion that you didn't even think denji was capable of, he holds you tightly within his arms while conveying all the emotions he held for you. the kiss was successful in taking your very breath away, eyes turning almost hazy with the sheer amount of love you had for the man that held you.

letting out a hoarse whisper of your name, denji rests his forehead against yours before confessing, "i fucking love you. you're everything a sad and pathetic man like me could ever ask for.

that's why, i'm gonna spend the rest of my fucking life protecting you and makin' you happy."

10. commitment

there was no way denji could sleep peacefully, not when he could spend the next hours watching you rest instead.

with a yawn, he carefully sits up from bed, allowing the blankets to slide off his body as he takes this chance to truly admire you. was his behavior a little strange? maybe, but truly, he didn't give a damn.

he finally found what he has always desired; the one thing he has craved for his entire life:

an unconditional love that he knew he would fight and die for. what started as him wanting to save a total babe from distress ends up leading him down the path he has always wanted- a dream come true.

with his right hand, he presses down against his chest where his heart still beat. he was comforted by the fact pochita would always be a part of him, protecting his heart while feeling each ounce of happiness whenever he was by your side.

"we finally did it, pochita. i finally reached my dreams."

when he finally decides to fall back asleep, he ends up bringing your body closer to him. with you now pressed against his bare chest, he could feel you smile in your sleep as you curled yourself even closer to him.

perhaps he should surprise you with that little, black velvet box currently hiding within his drawer in the morning after all.

a.n. - i have been listening to ajr's -ok overture- on repeat for days now, and the entirety of the song fits denji so well that i had to make this story for him 🥹 this is unedited, but i had such a blast writing it, and i hope you readers enjoyed it, too ♡

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.