#but since that first time ive perfected it

[marshslovedone]

Heyy, could you please do Stan x f!reader just general hcs, sfw and nsfw

Thanksss 🫶

YESSSS YESSSSS YESSSSS IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THISSSSA!!!1!1!1!1! FUCKING LOVE STAN

✧༺🎀༻✧

Stan Marsh x F!Reader sfw + nsfw headcanons

CW: F!Reader, smut, riding, scratch marks, anal sex, vanilla sex, hair pulling, nudes mentioned, kinks mentioned,

✧༺🎀༻✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ SFW

YOU TWO MET AT ONE OF HIS FOOTBALL GAMES!!!

You decide to come to the college football game since you thought it would be fun

You didn’t necessarily enjoy it a whole lot but seeing the people get mad was probably more entertaining to you then the game

Until the end of the game was coming to an end and the South Park cows were winning by a mile

You sighed as you got up to leave the bleachers and go down to the food court. When you got there you heard yelling and cheering along with the speakers saying South Park cows win

You looked over after getting a funnel cake and saw the team celebrating and soon leaving to the food court.

You got nervous and went to hide under the bleachers so you won’t get noticed

(un)fortunately the team captain, stan, saw you!!

He thought you were adorable seeing you for the first time

just you under the bleachers as you ate your funnel cake and got a little nervous seeing that he found you

He made sure the team was distracted before walking over to you which you got even more nervous and tried to look away

“hey there..what’s a pretty girl like you doing under these dirty bleachers?”

Stan was so gentle with his words and made sure he wasn’t loud so others can hear.

You just shrugged before you felt him sit next to you which made you look at him and smiled a little

You didn’t think this man would be super nice, especially him being the football captain too, you thought he would be like Clyde and have that jocky slightly rude personality but he didn’t

So you two talked for a bit introducing yourselves and ended up sharing the funnel cake you bought

After that day you two kept talking and talking and before you know it. Stan asked you to be his girlfriend at the football field at night,,

He was practice by himself while you watched which then he thought it would be perfect to pop the question

“Y/N..do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ NSFW

He’s pretty dominate in bed,,, and strong too, he works out almost everyday,, he loves pinning you down on the bed, gently of course

Stan loves almost trying new positions <3

At first he loved doing vanilla sex since he stared at you as your face contorted into pleasure and also making scratches on his back which the boys in the locker room question btw the next day 🤭

Stan also loves doing anal too, he loves seeing you arch your back and also be on all fours and pull your hair gently as he pounds your pretty pussy

Stan has many kinks he wants to try like, public sex in the locker room, car sex, edging, having sex while high and more

Stan adores when you ride him!!! He loves watching your body bounce up and down and how your boobs bounce in his face !! He thinks he’s in heaven when this happens

Stan loves when you send nudes btw,.,

He doesn’t ask for them a lot but when he does he instantly cums when he sees your body, he saves them all and makes sure to take a normal picture so people won’t see it

He may or may not have one of your least most dirty photo as his home screen wallpaper,,

His Lock Screen is different dw it’s a picture of the two of you!! And also don’t worry about people staring at the Home Screen this man made sure to buy a tinted privacy screen case for his phone so from all angles it looks like his phone is off!!

He loves you so much!! If you’re uncomfortable with taking nudes when he asks he’ll instantly stop for ur sake and switch the topic <3

If you’re uncomfortable with him having one of your lest most dirtiest photo as his home screen he’ll change it immediately!! He doesn’t want his baby uncomfortable <3

[joanyio]

not trying to be different but i genuinely loved ep 13, especially now that i rewatched it few hours after tuning in to the broadcast live. the twist was perfect and the teaser for ep 14 felt reassuring that it just gets better from here on out. i see a random netizen complain because it hurts them? i giggle every time, sorry i love this kind of pain and misery in such loveable characters in my silly little kdramas.

or hell maybe im just biased rn because this is the first ongoing kdrama brainrot ive had in so long that i haven’t dropped midway, can’t seem to be too critical as i just want to enjoy this precious ride, don’t feel like i’m wasting my time waiting every week for a new episode, can’t help but be endlessly fond of the characters, and don’t skip any scenes at all because i can’t when i tune into the broadcast live. i even rewatch the episodes multiple times (my watch logs in tvtime are embarrassing rn) which is something ive never done for an ongoing drama ever in my being a fan for 10+ years to avoid getting bored — yet i still drop like 85% of dramas i tried watching ongoing before. i guess there’s also the fact that my life has revolved around this brainrot since it started, making me look forward to mondays without feeling like shit to live my life at all…

give me at least a few months or years maybe i can give a proper criticism on this show but for now it’s everything to me i’ll keep giving flowers and tens to hyeyoon and sol and everything and everyone involved into making this drama the current light of my life

god i am so dramatic and it’s all because i’ve just been nonstop scrolling through my tl watching everyone react and descend to madness and it’s been like what 6 hours since the broadcast ended i still can’t fucking sleep my emotions are still over the place my head hurts so bad

[weirdraccoon]

After a harmless fight

MC: How many times do you want me to apologize? I said I was sorry!

Sebastian: We're past apologies, you shoved me off a cliff!

MC: But I caught you after!

[atsoomi]

Fall is pleasantly chilly in October. 

It slots between summer and winter to bring out the best of both seasons. The leaves change because they have to— because everyone has to— and the weather becomes a pleasant concoction that urges you to take walks and appreciate the whimsical scene. It’s also the season when seasonal depression hits you harder than the leaves hit the sidewalk. 

This year, however, is different to you. The chill of the fall isn’t as biting as it usually is. 

This year’s fall comes to you in the form of a dark haired lover with a spark in his eyes, in the form of whispered jokes in the dead of the night and romantic notes left next to warm breakfasts, in the form of a winning lottery ticket. 

It comes to you in the form of your boyfriend of a few months— kuroo tetsurō. 

You find that you complement each other well: he teaches you to be more spontaneous and you teach him to slow down, he teaches you how to cook his favorite meals and you teach him how to make your favorite drinks, you watch his favorite movies and he reads your favorite books. 

Most nights, you can’t agree on how to spend time together. Your boyfriend is active in a way you could never see yourself be, and the idea of going out always rivals staying home— it’s like asking where to eat from. But in some rare instances, the stars and planets align and you find something to agree on.

That’s how you find yourself sitting on a park bench, mid-October, enjoying the chill of the weather and your ice cream cones. Your hand affectionately rests on his knee as he prattles on about people and how they feel towards vanilla ice cream. 

“People don’t actually hate vanilla ice cream, everyone just says that because they’re affected by the public opinion.” He mumbles as he bites into his biscuit— coincidentally a vanilla cone. 

You hum thoughtfully, hand sliding up to his thigh. “I don’t think I like vanilla ice cream.” 

He turns to you with furrowed brows and a look of betrayal, “traitor.” 

You laugh at his upset face and he grows more offended. The hand you had on his thigh is lifted to mess up his hair (more than it already is) as you relish in being the one to tease him for once. 

“Sorry pumpkin, I must always tell the truth. I’m not a liar.” 

He seems to inflate to full size at your comment, reminding you of the way he towers over you even when you’re sitting down. “Oh yeah? How come you always lie about the leftovers then?” 

“Tetsu, those are my leftovers, in my house. I have the right to do whatever I want with them.” 

“Not when you promise to save them for your loving amazing gorgeous boyfriend.” 

“I have a loving amazing gorgeous boyfriend?” 

He snorts at your reply and you cheer internally at your win. You look at each other with matching smiles and the atmosphere around you changes subtly. You block out the sound of the trees and the wind as your mind fills with thoughts of the man sitting next to you. Street lights cast a soft glow on his face, and you think he’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. 

He seems to be thinking the same as the smile you shared fades away and his face relaxes. A certain look flashes across his eyes and you feel a jolt of electricity course through you at the silent communication you’re having. You wonder what he’s thinking about and silently pray that it’s something good, that he’s not realizing that your right side isn’t your good side.

You tilt your head to the side as you continue observing him and he smiles lightly at your glassy eyes and pursed lips. The shadow cast over his face doesn’t dim down the light in his eyes; your hand itches to reach over and trace his eyebrows and wander across his face to drink him in fully.

“I think I love you.” 

Your breath hitches and all the thoughts about touching him disperse at the simple words that he mutters quietly— breathlessly and delicately. 

It’s not what you were expecting him to confess tonight, but you can’t say you’re surprised. You’ve been walking along the edge of love with him for a few weeks now, playfully teasing each other about the idea of forever, the idea of more serious promises. It’s no surprise that, out of the two of you, he let himself be taken by love first.

Now, you’re left standing on the edge, looking down at the depths of love and wondering if you’re ready to take the risk. Past mistakes pull you back and the fear you’ve held with you for a while warns you against it, whispering in your being that regret leaves a poisonous taste.  

But the sight of kuroo in front of you, with rosy cheeks and hopeful eyes and lips you’re all too familiar with, gives you the push of courage you need to jump in, headfirst. 

 The smile on his face doesn’t falter while you’re readying yourself to say the words, as if he can read it on your face— as if he always knew it would play out like this. He waits for you to take the chance. 

“I think I love you, too” 

His face breaks out in a grin that’s so wide it makes your cheeks hurt and it takes you a second to realize that it's your own grin that’s hurting your cheeks. Inching closer to kill the space between you, he puts his arm around your shoulder. You turn your body to face him and you fit together effortlessly, like puzzle pieces. 

You don’t think twice about kissing him, dropping the cone in your hand to place both hands on him. The sound of his cone hitting the ground makes you smile at the eagerness coming from both of you. 

His eyes flutter shut as you angle your face to unite your lips and the taste of vanilla overtakes your senses. The softness of the moment, combined with your hunger for him, makes the fire in your stomach burn vigorously. The hand that wanders away from your collusion and caresses your knee makes you want to bounce on him and disregard public decency. 

You’re one second away from clawing at his sweater when he pulls away breathlessly. Flushed cheeks and a crooked grin greet you when you open your eyes, and the butterflies in your stomach turn violent. You have no idea how he hasn’t lost control yet. 

He brings your head closer to rest his forehead against yours, your smiles mirroring each other’s. His warm breath fans over your lips and you have to control the urge to go back to your ritual because he’s clearly enjoying the soft gesture. 

You eventually pull back to change positions and rest your head on his shoulder; he welcomes the change in position with an arm back on your shoulder. 

The park looks so different to you now, even if it hasn’t changed in the slightest. You’re looking at things through a different lens now that everything has changed. You know what it means for both of you to say those words; you know the plans you’re going to draw up together now, and you know that he wants this to work out as much as you do. 

Your face grows warm as all the possibilities cloud your mind. The arm around your shoulder intensifies the tickling sensation across your skin. You look at him and he’s already looking at you. Words escape you at the sight of the warm unbridled love you see in his eyes, and you can’t believe you’ve gotten this lucky.

“I’m glad you’re here.” He whispers, leaning over to close the space again. 

“Me too.” You breathe out before he seals your promise with a kiss.

[whumble-beeee]

What's In a Name?

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 8

Content: mentioned past attempted noncon, hysterical whumpee/nervous breakdown (seriously yall, it gets bad), disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[While following this guide, as well as generally while playing the wonderful game that is villainy, you will find that the advice can rarely be fitted to every specific scenario. But one piece of advice is universal: If you value your freedom, your loved ones, and your life, you must never reveal your secret identity to your captured hero. As soon as you do, there is no more facade. Villainy is no longer a game. It is your life. And heroes will not hesitate to destroy your life if it means they can win the game. 

If a hero (or ANY untrusted party) ever happens upon your secret identity, it is your responsibility, as a villain and as a human being, to accept the end of your life as you know it…

Or to ensure that the hero can never tell another living soul.]

* * * * * * * *

“See you soon?” Deeby repeated Sweater-vest’s last words incredulously. “See you soon?! Christ, and you know he knows– god, he just needs to stop being such un pendejo and shut the hell up, stop making everything about his goddamn god complex and shoving it en las caras de todos–”

The sudden anger from the usually cool and smug Deeby did not help the apparent panic attack seeping ever so quickly into Stan’s consciousness, especially with said seething bounty hunter circling around the room like an angry shark as he muttered to himself and gesticulated wildly. 

Stan cowered to hide his shirtlessness from said angry shark. His chest and limbs started to buzz from all the excess oxygen entering his system as he took in heavy breaths, his head spinning, dizzy, hurting, every muscle clenching.

“--y quién se cree ese cabrón para venir a joderme MI TRABAJO?” 

He was so angry. So loud, talking so fast, and what the hell was he even saying?! It was too much, too much.

 “Y la puta Lana no puede ni aparecer para decirme que me está jodiendo la vida OTRA VEZ porque es lo único que le encanta hacer, joderme TODO lo que–”

Stop it stop it stay calm stay calm please not now please please please not now you can’t show weakness like this in front of your kidnapper you can’t stop it STOP IT–

He took in an involuntary loud heaving breath. Then fell into a stuttering slew of smaller breaths as he tried to keep quiet, and Deeby finally took notice of the state of his captive. 

Stan squeaked and pulled the jacket around himself tighter. He was small, he was silent, he was invisible. 

Then he gasped in another desperate heaving breath with an involuntary cry of panic when he suddenly ran out of air. He’d stopped breathing entirely with all his efforts.

“Stan? Qué es–... Ah, you good?”

Stan nodded quickly, shaking. “F-fine, fine.”

Deeby raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t lie to me. What is this, you having a panic attack?”

He couldn’t get his eyes to focus, but he shook his head fervently. Then reeled as it made the dizziness and headache so much worse.

“Stan, talk to me, chiquito. If he actually did something to you, tell me. I need a good reason to kill him, you’d be helping me out a lot.”

He didn't actually even hurt me, did he? 

“No–! I-I u-uh-uh yes-s-s, but– but–” 

I don't WANT to ‘help you out’! I don't want to talk about it! ESPECIALLY not with you. 

He let out a whine and failed to swallow the giant knot forming in his throat.

“Alright, is this about the shirt then? Or the uh, the chest thing? Is that why you went from colonizer white to ghost white when you thought I was gonna make you strip earlier?” He walked over to the tattered shirt and scooped it up. “Because if that's what got you, I can assure you I don’t give a single crap what you’ve–... got in your...”

Deeby trailed off as he held up the grey strips of fabric that used to be Stan's button-down. 

And just stared.

Stan gawked at the unrecognizable shredded fabric hanging in the bounty hunter's hands. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't realized how utterly destroyed his beloved shirt was. What was he supposed to wear now?

“That… Motherfucker…” Deeby muttered, almost as as aghast as Stan. “Christ, I knew he'd pull some grade-A bullshit, but this–”

“Y-you KNEW?!” Stan gasped out, surprising himself with the volume of his outburst. “You– You knew he was gonna– gonna try to...”

Deeby didn't look up from the tatters in his hands. “Yeah. He's predictable, if nothing else.”

Stan's entire body felt like it was full of angry bees. “You–... You left me-e alone with ‘im. On pu-urpose.”

“And everything turned out fine, you're fine. Look runt, we need to have a little talk about what–”

“NO!” Stan cried, ignoring the drop in his stomach when Deeby's eyes took on a slight challenging glint at the interruption. “No, don’t change the subject! You left me alone with him! You knew he was gonna try to– to rape me and you left me alone with him! Handcuffed, chained to the floor, powerless, immobile, beat up to hell and– a-and unable to defend myself and you-you left me alone with him!”

The floodgates were opening. The stifling sense of justice suffocating Stan from the inside out wouldn’t let the injustices go unsaid any longer, crashing through his body and just about ready to make him burst. Ironic, given the everything.

Deeby’s jaw set. “Stan. I wouldn’t have left that shit-for-brains alone with anyone if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, but you– you had to?” Stan taunted, hoping the sarcasm came through in his voice even with the stuttering and heaving breaths. “What, Dee-deeby the great bounty hunter actually answers to someone? Enough to put the uh, the bounty in danger? Or are you just scared of him, wanted to get away?!” 

Deeby snorted.

“Hell yeah, I'll do whatever if the buyer asks it,” he proclaimed. "And I'm not scared of that human cringe-fail. The day I'm scared of him is the day I'm dragged away screaming and turned into… well, you, basically. But I mean, that's when he's actually dangerous…" 

He seemed to think on it for a moment. Then crouched down in front of Stan, smug grin replaced with something like the look a friend gives when they think you're about to ruin your life with a single dumb decision.

“Honesty, bud… I wouldn't be so tough around a guy like that if I were a guy like you. Best to just fuel his ego.”

Stan physically recoiled. “Don't tell me what–! Who-wh–…”

That insult sounded way too genuine. Since when was the mercenary genuine?

“Wait, wait, you'd…” Stan shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts from the spaghetti of his mind. This concussion was killing him. He could barely think. “If you were… Who even was th-that?”

Another chuckle. “What, Tweedy? That was Vaughn. He said that earlier, though I applaud your ability to block him out. Wish I could do that.”

Then again, the hunter was most likely just trying to psych him out. Get him to behave again. Stan wouldn't fall for something like that.

“No, idiot, I mean–... I meant who is he? Why is he going to-to see me soon?… And– and for that matter, are you working together? Because it seems like you hate each other.”

Deeby let out a huff of air. “Look, bud, we need to talk about that phone call I had to take, the boss–”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“Well frankly, there's more important things to talk about,” Deeby dismissed quickly. “So I was talking with the boss-lady on the phone while you were–”

“I don’t care about what that Lana person has to say!” Stan said, slamming his hands on the floor for effect, a breath-stealing pang running through his ribs at the jostling. “Jus– Just tell me who you guys are, tell me why I’m here, tell me why I should be scared of ‘a guy like that’! Who ARE you?!”

Deeby narrowed his eyes slightly. “We need to talk about what's going to happen to you next. And you're gonna listen to that. Not yell demands at me like some asshole 6-year-old, because you already know I don't deal with all that ‘who am I, secret identity’ crap, so you're not getting those answers.”

Well actually, judging by the horrible sticky weight that slammed Stan in the gut when Deeby said that, he didn't want to know what horrors awaited him next. So next best thing? Keep being an asshole 6-year-old.

“Why?”

“Anonymity is the most valuable tool you can have in this game.” Deeby recited it like a script, exaggerating a monotone boredom. “Also I'm not an idiot, it's protocol that's saved me before, it helps me do my job without getting invested… take your pick.”

“You're not even wearing your mask any more!” Stan cried. “So much for secret identity!”

“I think what you're meaning to say is ‘thank you for rushing to save my damsel-in-distress ass from some twink with scissors when you heard me screaming for help even though you were dealing with a really important phone call from the worst person ever’. And you're very welcome. Now we need to talk about what I found out in that dumbass phone call and what it means for you.”

He always had an answer for everything, huh? Always another quip.

Stan's blood started to boil, and he may have actually, genuinely growled a little. 

“S-so-so so what, you are scared of her, then? You're scared of her and that's why you left me with that monster?!” He tried, spitting back as much smug asshole-ness as Deeby had been throwing at him. “Is that why you hate them, you’re just their damn lackey doing whatever they tell you to do?! Just a puppet for them to guide around, running around capturing supers and serving them up on a silver platter like a good little servant?!”

Deeby stared at him, genuinely stunned by the sudden venom in the captive's words. His fists clenched by his side.

 Hm. Stan may have gone too far.

“Look, McKellen,” Deeby spat as he took an authoritative step forward, voice slow, low and dark. “There are things at play here that you can’t know about–”

“Why not?!” Stan felt like he was losing it, voice creaky and high and hoarse. “Obviously I’m gonna be trapped here with you assholes for the rest of my short life until you kill me with some new form of torture experiment bullshit! Why not tell me everything?! Why not do whatever you want with me?! Just tell me! Please!!”

Stan glared desperately at the bounty hunter. He knew he wasn’t even just crossing the line at this point; he was sprinting over the line and stomping on it repeatedly in a panic-fueled frenzy, kicking at it and letting out his full fury as if the line itself had done this to him, as if absolutely decimating the line would somehow fix everything.

Way deep down, almost too far down to admit to himself, he almost hoped the mercenary would see through the insults and the fighting to see the pleading, hurt, scared man underneath. And then take pity. Just let him have this one thing, before he broke entirely.

But the bounty hunter glared right back at him.

“No.” He stated venomously. “Right now, you're going to shut up. And listen.”

As if Stan would ever listen to the orders of his kidnapper. Of a villain.

A small laugh, just a little chuckle, took root his chest. A disbelieving smile cracked across his face.

The absence of the signature unbothered grin, the absence of the mask, the deathly seriousness? Not to mention the gun, the knives, the chains, the handcuffs, the power suppressing collar, no cane or crutch or any viable mobility aid in sight, and beaten so hard multiple times that he probably couldn't run properly anyway even if he did have a knee that actually worked…

This really was hopeless, wasn't it? 

He could rage against the dying of the light all he wanted. Scream and shout and cry and fight and say witty things to hide the excruciating, never-ending pain. 

But the light would still die all the same.

He clutched Deeby's very own stupid cowboy-ass jacket around his shoulders. He couldn't even defend himself from getting his shirt ripped to shreds right off his body!

And this bitch–

“You– you don't think…” he had to pause to let out a barrage of inappropriate giggles, then shoved up shakily to his feet, back braced against the wall. “You don't still think I'm gonna– that, that I'm gonna escape, do you?!”

Deeby gave pause, eyeing Stan up and down. Really thinking about it. He took a deep breath. A low grumble emanated from the base of his throat.

“No. I don't.”

Stan laughed out again, full force this time. Desperate. Tearful.

“Then just–... just TELL ME!! IT DOESN'T MATTER!! IT DOESN'T!! IT'LL DIE WITH ME!!”

The mercenary's mouth pressed into a thin line. Was that confusion etched into his features? Or worry? Maybe anger…

“It does matter,” He growled through gritted teeth. “It's probably the most important thing you could know, who I am. Who we are.”

Stan let out a loud cry of anguish, screeching out every single frustration at the unfairness of the world, at this situation, at Deeby and Vaughn and whoever Lana was, at the collar and the chains and the cut and bruises and broken bones and his broken, useless knee into a single, guttural sound. 

“WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTIN-GAH-AH!!”

Very, very suddenly, the lapels of Deeby's loosely draped jacket tightened around his body and slammed him back into the wall, the fleece-lined collar of the jacket twisting and pulling on the power-suppressing strap clamped around his neck, contracting it, choking him just as the slam forced all the breath out of his lungs. 

Stan clawed back against the force, only managing to grasp at Deeby’s forearms uselessly as they twisted the jacket ever tighter around him. Pinning his arms. Trapping him. He had to heave in and out gasping breaths just to get enough air to breath through his half obstructed airways.

“Look at me, chiquito,” the bounty hunter snarled. “Look me in the eye!”

Stan's panicked eyes paused their sporadic dance around the room. They locked dead onto the mercenary's fiery gaze.

“Did you break your damn brain in the 3 minutes I was gone?” Deeby hissed into his ear. Stan almost screeched in terror. “I don't know what sort of fuckery your mind has been conjuring up that you can't get this very simple concept without going insane,” he jolted Stan and dragged out an involuntary whimper from his throat. 

“But whatever it is, shut it down. Now. I'm gonna tell you the bare minimum of what you need to know, and you're gonna sit there and listen or else I won't tell you jack shit and knock you unconscious so I don't have to deal with your bullshit. Agreed?!” 

“I– Ah, a-ah, I– No, I- I, no-no no No-o–”

He couldn't get his thoughts to line up properly. They swarmed around his head like locusts in a dust bowl, bouncing into each other, frenzied, an indecipherable cloud of fear and frustration that his horrible attempt at defiance, futile as it may have been, always just made everything worse.

He could never stop himself.

Angry tears rimmed at Stan's eyes. His body hurt. His brain pounded in his skull. His ribs cried out in protest as they pressed into the wall. The various bruises and their dull, throbbing aches, the cuts and bleeding wounds and their sharp, searing screeches, the sticky and caked on dried blood, so familiar now it was almost a second skin, Deeby's weight pinning him to the wall, so similar and yet so different to the way Vaughn had done the same.

No. No, no, no, no.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears finally falling in hot, fat drops down his cheeks. The bounty hunter was so close, too close. Stan tried to pull away, and he just leaned on him harder, their faces barely inches apart.

“Agreed, chiquito?” The voice rumbled through his entire body, sending shivers up and down his spine.

No no no no no no no he needed to get away, get away now, please please that's all he needed he couldn't get away he couldn't even move his arms he could barely breathe–

“WHY DON'T YOU JUST RAPE ME ALREADY?!” Stan screamed into the endless cacophonous void.

And silence.

And the entire world went still.

Deeby’s mouth fell literally agape.

His grip on Stan loosened considerably. Not out of pity or any other considerate emotion. Just shock.

At least Stan could finally breathe again. Not that he took a single breath in the silence.

“I–...” Deeby finally choked out. “I-I beg you finest fucking what?!”

“Just fucking do it,” Stan hissed, gasping. “We both know you could. I couldn't even stop Vaughn, you think I could stop you?!”

The words spewed out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, like a volcano that had finally exploded its top off in a fiery glory. And the way Deeby looked at him, as if his features were having an all out war over shock, horror, or honestly very justified anger? Oh, that did nothing but fan the flames of Stan's sorrow-filed hysteria.

“Tall ass muscle-bound freak with an actual gun that captured me and beat me up again and again then left me to die?! I don't even know who you are! You can do whatever you want and I can't do jack shit to stop you! Just do it, hurt me, rape me, it doesn't matter! Vaughn knew that, you can too!” Stan attempted to shove the bounty hunter off, but he still didn't move. 

“Please, please, I'm begging you, is that what you want?! I'll get on my knees!”

Stan collapsed against Deeby's hold, and to his surprise, Deeby finally let him. Well, not ‘let him,’ more like ‘recoiled and jumped back when he felt Stan collapsing in his grasp'. 

All the same.

“Chiquito,” Deeby rasped. “I'm– not exactly sure what or why you're demanding, but I'm not going to–”

“Why not?! It doesn't matter!” Stan assured, holding his arms out to fully present himself now, shedding the jacket onto the floor behind him and taking a daring scoot forward. “I bet you just kicked Vaughn out because you wanted me all to yourself! I bet you just love seeing me scared and helpless and half naked in your stupid fucking yee-yee jacket–”

“Alright, Stan, enough!”

“AT LEAST VAUGHN had the decency to not pretend like he was a decent fucking person like you!” Stan yelled. “We both know you're not above it, fucking professional kidnapper and torturer! So just do it! Like Vaughn wanted to, like he tried to! Finish what he started, you have me all to yourself now! DO IT! DO IT I DARE–”

“The name's Declan.”

The statement was a whisper in the storm. Stan almost missed it. But the resolute certainty of the southern twang stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What–�� What did you just–?”

It was astounding how quickly his voice had turned meek from the cacophony of chaos mere seconds before. Dark freckles stood out against an even starker white face than usual.

“It's Declan,” the mercenary stated once more. “My name. My name’s Declan. You wanted t’know who we are, who I am? Fine then, I'm Declan. Want the last name too?”

“I– wait–!”

“It's Cansano. Declan Cansano.”

Stan was shaking, a million thoughts crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. If he weren't already on his knees, surely he would have collapsed. 

He hadn't actually… meant any of that. No. Had he? No. He couldn't have. He didn't want to know who the mercenary was. No, he didn't. He didn't, not really! He would never want that! Never!

“That’s not… Wh-why would you…?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “You wanted to know who I am. You asked, you screamed, you insulted me and you went fuckin’ nuts over it.” His thunder-filled eyes betrayed his completely relaxed demeanor. “Declan Cansano. Don't forget‘t.”

“I just– That's not what– Wait, Deeby, you– Where are you going?!”

Deeby was already halfway to the door when he swiftly spun around, fists clenched and any trace of the easy demeanor vanished in those bright blood-stained eyes. 

“I can't fuckin’ deal with you right now!”

Stan nearly launched himself back in fear, right back onto Deeby's stupid, soft jacket. He grasped it up as a barrier between him and the mercenary without even thinking. The mercenary's demeanor relaxed from absolutely terrifying to merely extremely angry at the sorry sight.

“I'm leaving for a bit.” He whipped around and grasped for the lapels of his jacket to yank it on, only for his grasp to come up empty. He whipped around a third time. “And I'll be expectin’ my coat back when I get back! You better've calmed the hell down by then, if you know what’s good for you.”

Wait, wait, he was leaving? No!

Stan tried to scramble after Deeby, but immediately fell to the agony of his knee and the length of his leash. 

“Don't go, please!” he pleaded.

Deeby didn’t stop. “Why?”

What if you come back with more torture tools? 

What if you don't come back at all? 

I still have more questions for you. 

You can't just leave me here, I'm hurt! 

I shouldn't be alone right now. I can't. I'm scared of what will happen, I'm going insane.

Even you are better than no one at all.

“What– what if Vaughn comes back?!”

Deeby scoffed. “I'm not going that far, damn. Eat some protein bars while I'm gone so you don't die, should help with the insanity. Back soon.”

And the door to the room closed shut behind him, the click echoing off the walls in the sudden unbearable silence. 

Stan collapsed to the floor, defeated.

He clutched the jacket closer. 

Pulled it tight around his shoulders, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents on the well-worn hide. The cotton lining was so surprisingly soft against his skin. Hell, he could smell the dirt and musk that permeated the jacket from years of use, the smal signs that this jacket had seen the capture of dozens of supers.

Declan.

Declan Cansano.

Professional Superhero-Hunter.

Stan screamed into the endless abyss around him.

And this time, Declan didn’t come back to save him.

* * * * * * * *

Next

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy | @pirefyrelight | @cakeinthevoid | @painsandconfusion | @books-are-everything | @paperprinxe | @lovethiswriting

[brianskangs]

I AM FINALLY DONE WITH THIS DEGREE AFTER A YEAR OF STRUGGLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[sunarctus]

Right so I have an order in for ghostsoap ? Did you want more or less angst with that? Perhaps some blood on the side to really enhance it 🤔🤔

[stuck-in-the-ghost-zone]

what kind of cratures do you think the trigun gang would be?

CREATURES IN GENERAL OR SEA CREATURES. BECAUSE MY FRIEND MONTY N I WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT TRIGUN FURSONAS THE OTHER DAY. but i am the sea creature guy at heart so im gonns give u those i hope that is ok 😌 there are many benefits to being a marine biologist.

Vash: he is... so very shark coded to me. everyone looks at him and sees a dangerous killing machine. frequently covered in scars. do u see the connection here. he is specifically a thresher shark to me because of the whole sharpshooter thing and also the sad sad puppydog eyes 💙

Wolfwood: i am torn between two different types of eels for him. giant morays are more aesthetically pleasing but personally i have to go with a wolf eel both for the name and because ive worked with these guys before and theyre sooooo cool so im biased

Meryl: not technically a sea creature because she is just so bird coded to me. White-Tailed Tropicbird

Milly: is it cheating to have two cephalopods on this list. because i think i really want to say giant pacific octopus for milly. either that or a whale shark 💙 yes those are two completely different animals no i will not be taking criticism at this time

bonus Knives because i love him and i feel the most strongly about this one:

BOBTAIL SQUID.

... and also a bristle worm . for what i hope are obvious reasons

[saaltskies]

i went to bed right after finishing the epilogue but i am now awake and can put my silly little rant here

[milkbreadtoast]

EP 2 OF DUNGEON MESHI WAS GOOD... im enjoying this a lot😭😭

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...

[todayisafridaynight]

born to do a Saeko Only y7 run forced to be technically illiterate

[your-fave-is-bi]

i love how knitting patterns have super detailed and exact instructions on what to use etc etc and every time i look at one im like. what if i....didn't exactly do that? and just kinda fucked with your instructions a bit hm?

[mickidona]

“He's wearing a woman's shirt, and nothing happens.”

Inspired by this wonderful drabble by @salzundhonig , please go read it and experience the second hand gender euphoria like I did ! Hal’s gender exploration is so deeply important to me and this fic sums it up like nothing else.

[metaknightsimp]

i kinda died for awhile, moved into a new house and everything was chaotic... got my computer set up at about 2 pm... its 9 pm, and i have finished my first drawing since forever.

...and its shameless self ship meta knight, because i would literally do anything for him. Happy belated valentines!!!!

[mattzerella-sticks]

The silhouette of a figure in the doorway. A picture of Hawaii before WWII.

I am hoping beyond hope that a plot dream I've been having has escaped containment inside my head and has infected some poor writer to bring my dream to life.