#but throwing stars? Hell yea man

[orcelito]

Also here are the throwing stars I inadvisably bought today

They were pretty cheap and they are So Cool 🥺

Spike pile lol

[toji-bunny-girl]

my mind is plagued with the thought of girl dad!Toji urghhhh 😭

when you first told that you’re pregnant, he just fr looked at you liek 🫤 Dude was not READY (even tho he already has a teenage son). Mans literally got all :/ for the consequences of his own action—not wearing condom and creampieing you all night just because it’s his silly lil kink 🤪🤪

his thought doesn’t go to the gender of the baby, cuz he thought babies are all the same, “aLl tHey dO iS shiT anD cRy 😠😠” (liek Megumi was mostly raised by his mom tf you know abt babies) until you’re 7 months pregnant and lying on his chest, in the bed with him while thinking up names for your baby.

“Akio,” Toji spoke, his chest rumbling with his words.

“That’s a boy name, Toji,” you turned to look at him, suspicion laced in your features. “Do you even know the gender of our baby?”

“Uh—yea. A girl, right?” he answered based on the way you reacted.

This wasn’t good. He was showing signs of a neglectful parent, just like how he did with his son; you can never imagine yourself as a single mom—and you would stop at nothing to prevent his cycle of absent parenting.

Your daughter would have parents who would do anything, even kill for her, you swore.

And Toji would take that literally.

When he first saw Minami, he had an intangible feeling in his chest, pulse thumping fast and his head grew heavy. It was like having Megumi for the first time, with another woman he loves and a daughter with her.

Toji had forgotten how tiny babies were, especially in his large hands. And the sight of this hulking man slightly crouching as he held his daughter warmed your heart: the look in his eyes spoke volume then, no one would ever dare to hurt his little girl.

When days got to months and bled to years, toddler Minami had finally grown into her character and the two of you are absolutely exhausted trying to take care of her. She was like a burning shell fired out of a circus cannon from the depths of hell, screaming when you don’t let her tear her storybooks apart and obliterating your ears when you take her toys away for throwing them at people.

It’s during moments like this where Toji imagines a life without her (sorry). You’d be spending time date nights alone usually ended with you screaming his name at the backseat of his car. And would he exchange his current life with one without Minami? Absolutely not.

It would mean losing one of his pretty girls in his arm at night, no more tea parties with mom and dad, and he wouldn’t have his personal alarm pasting those small smooches on his cheeks to wake him up (upon mommy’s orders).

He’d rather lose an eardrum or two just to have his emerald-eyed princess welcoming him home with her giggles. He’d rather the world burn than to lose Minami. His south star, the brightest of all just like her mother.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Can we have some NANAMIN~~ hehehe

Nanami Kento, Jealousy, “Isn’t your boyfriend in the other room?”

Ya'll can ALWAYS have some Nanami, he is ALWAYS on the menu 💛💛💛

Now Presenting...

Starring: A very jealous Nanami Kento

This party fucking sucked. The house smelled like litter box, the vibe was disgusting, and the drinks were as weak as the music choice. Though, all of those reasons kinda paled in comparison to the real reason this party sucked for Nanami: You had brought your new boyfriend here. Not that he cared. It was fine. He was in your bed less than a week ago, probably while you were still talking to the walking asshole guy you were with now, so this guy really can’t be that important, but whatever. It didn’t matter to him, because it clearly didn’t matter to you. He got another drink, this time mixing his own in order to insure that his vodka redbull was actually a vodka redbull, and not just a redbull that thought really really hard about a vodka shot.

“Hey man, did you see that guy that Y/n showed up with?!” Gojo asked as he walked into the kitchen, “Dude, shes fucking cheating!”

“Satoru!” Geto snapped, punching his shoulder to remind him that hey, maybe this situation required a bit more tact. Kento quickly poured a shot of tequila and threw it back, much to the horror of Suguru and the awe of Gojo.

“Not cheating, we weren’t official.” Nanami gasped, focusing on the burn in his throat to ignore the tightness in his chest. 

“Kento, do you want to go?” Suguru asked, pointing a thumb to the door, “We can just drink at home, play some Tekken. Honestly it sounds more fun than this.” He offered, trying to give Nanami an out from the awkward situation. 

“Yea!” Gojo agreed, “This party sucks anyway, its full of frat boys.” Kento chuckled and took a drink from his vodka with a splash of redbull. He really did appreciate his roommates, and how they always had his back, even in small ways. But he wasn’t going to leave this party immediately after you showed up with some bastard. Because that would mean admitting defeat, and Nanami would never admit defeat. 

“Nah, I think I’m going to socialize actually,” Kento said with a shrug. Suguru and Satoru shared a worried look, but didn’t push the issue further as Nanami left the kitchen. He went to the livingroom. He saw you sitting on the couch next to the wannabe tech bro you brought, laughing with your whole body at some joke he said. He bet it wasn’t even funny. Probably some cheesy pun he stole off of twitter. That dick probably had an NFT profile pic and actually started calling it X the moment daddy musk told him too. Fucking bootlicker. What the hell did he have that Nanami didn’t? He didn’t fucking deserve you. So why the fuck did you choose him?

He snapped out of his definitely not jealousy fueled spiral long enough to realize that he was not only staring, but he felt his eyes prickle with tears. Oh no, no no no fuck no! He quickly wiped away the drop that fell before rushing to the bathroom. He would be damned before he was caught crying at a fucking house party. Especially over a woman he never really had to begin with. Someone who never really took whatever it was they had as seriously as he did.

He was thankful to find the downstairs bathroom empty, slipping in and all but throwing his back against the door. This fucking sucked. This really fucking sucked. Suguru had warned him once he started catching feelings, that he either had to say something or stop answering your calls, stop calling you. That to do anything else was just setting himself up for hurt if you didn’t feel the same way. He didn’t take him very seriously at the time. Kento made a mental note to pay for at least one of his drinks as an apology next time the group went bar hopping.

He took a deep, jagged breath, trying to ground himself. Okay. Okay. He probably wasn’t going to cry anymore. He pushed himself off of the bathroom door, going to the sink to splash his face. He threw cold water on his face, and was in the middle of crying it off when the door opened.

“Hey! It’s called knocking!” He snapped at the intruder. 

“I’m sorry, I did!” You yelped, “You didn’t answer!”

“Y/n?” Nanami asked, filling himself deflate at your smile. You finished walking in, closing the door behind you.

“Oh, hey Kento! I didn’t know you were here. You look good” You winked. He repressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Gee, thanks. That means so much.” He words were soaked in sarcasm, voice laced with contempt.

“Whoa, who pissed in your cheerios this morning?’ You asked, very much feeling the hostile vibe he was putting out, “Are you ok?”

“Yea, I’m fine.” Nanami shook his head, “Just…rough day, I guess.” He grumbled, not really in the mood for confrontation at that moment. You gave him a sly grin, slipping to close the space between the two of you. Your hand landed on his chest, and you looked at him through long eyelashes.

“Hey, I have an idea of what could make you feel better,” You purred, your hands falling to his belt buckle. Much to your surprise, but honestly more so his, He was quick to grab your wrist and stop you.

“Oh come on Y/n,” He scoffed, “Really? Isn’t your boyfriend in the other room?” He accused, venom dripping from his very soul. “I thought you were better than that.” You just looked at him confused, trying to think about what the hell he was talking about. 

“Um, what?” You asked, only adding fuel to his rage.

“Oh come on Y/n, don’t play dumb! I saw that guy you came in with. Were you ever planning on telling me?” He snapped. Slowly, the confusion left your face, only to be replaced with amusement. You started laughing. You started laughing. Nanami shook his head, a tic quickly forming in his jaw.

“You’re really laughing right now? Thats so low Y/n, I can’t believe-”

“My cousin.” You said, stopping Kento in his tracks.

“What?”

“My cousin! That guy I showed up with? Yea, that’s my cousin Nanami!” You laughed, thoroughly entertained by the whole situation. You could see the math flashing before Nanami's eyes as he took in what you were saying. Now that he was thinking about it, nothing you did was particularly romantic, you just kinda…existed around him. 

Oh my god.

Nanami started laughing too, unable to believe how worked up he got over literally nothing. He felt so utterly ridiculous, and honestly he kinda deserved that feeling.

“Oh my god it’s your cousin,” He said as chuckles started coming out, “I was really going to fight your cousin.”

“You were gonna fight him?!” You howled with laughter, having to brace yourself against the door.

“Yea! I was!” Nanami confirmed with a laugh, unable to believe he got so worked up over nothing, “Oh man, that would have been so bad.”

“And what did we learn?” You teased.

“That I need to be more forgiving of characters that fall into the miscommunication trope.”

“No, you numpty!” You playfully groaned, lightly pushing him, “It’s not a miscommunication if you never communicated in the first place!”

“Oh, yeah that too.” He joked with a grin. They two of you stayed giggling like that for a few more moments before he pulled you into a hug, just relieved that it was all a misunderstanding. The two of you left the bathroom hand in hand, no doubt turning a few heads, but who really cared. He didn’t at least.

“You know, as weird as this is to say, it was kinda hot seeing you jealous,” You teased, “You don’t get that way often.” He simply shrugged.

“Yea well, I think anyone would get jealous if they saw their girlfriend show up to a party with a random guy.”

“Oh, so I’m your girlfriend now?” You asked, a smile pulling at your lips. He could feel the blush dusting his cheeks. 

“I mean, yea. If you want to be..” He offered. You grinned and jumped into his arms, kissing his cheek. He held you close and smiled.

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

[starfleetshrimps]

i love star trek bc it's actually a high school theater production most of the time. We focus a lot on the over-acting, theatricality of the actors and the directors, and that's all well and amazing, but /I/ want to focus on the /TECH/ bc ASHAijnjsdnbhgaARREghghhuuagjkshdmhbAHJBSSHJHIEJBnkjsdjhbsdhjBmahbsjshsbHkjnswkjshsn yea.

FIRST THE SETS?!? they're so silly and stupid? i know they get a lot of shit but the amount of work (not to mention styrofoam) that went into building individual sets for each planet they went to? like sure about 50% of the away missions take place in the california desert (the arena, *cough cough*, etc) but the rest of them have individually made sets that look PRETTY GOOD MAN. they get the point across, they're FUN, and innovative, and they really don't reuse planet sets all that often as well.

PLUS they used traditionally /theatrical/ cycloramas with painted backgrounds and classical cyc lighting (reminiscent of mariano fortuny's domed cyc! i WILL talk more about lighting) which look really cool and once again get shit for being unrealistic.

it's not supposed to look realistic it's supposed to look cool as shit. and it does. shut up. <3

if you view the sets as being modern TV sets then yeah, they're weird, and they look sorta bad, but THEYRE NOT modern TV sets: they're THEATRICAL SETS FROM THE 60-70S. AND I LOVE THEM.

SECONDLY, THE

lighting

while it's true that some shows in the 60s were developing new lighting styles specifically for TV, remember that in the year 1950 less that 10 percent of US homes had a television. this shit was new. COLOR tv was ESPECIALLY new. nobody knew how to light these things! and actually why would you need a new lighting style, we already KNEW how to light dramatic productions, why would we ever need to reinvent the wheel Stanley Mccandles, Mariano Fortuny, and Gene Rosenthall already invented says Gene Roddenberry and Jerry Finnerman (the head lighting designer). and oh my god i am so ridiculously glad. because the lighting. is so good.

i HAVE seen others talking about how good it is in the super early episodes (Charlie X and the conscious of the King, etc.) and i do agree! but i disagree that the quality goes down. i think it just got a tad bit more subtle as the show went on and it gets less in your face, harder to notice. but i noticed. because I'M the WORST (and also a lighting tech)

the impossibility of listing every example of amazing theater lighting choice they made is absolutely horrific and nasty so i'll just lost some my my favorites:

the cyc! i mentioned before but the cyc they used on away missions was only painted when they needed a specific scene in the background, otherwise? that bitch was LIT. and i LOVE IT.

any of the scenes where they light spock's face have green and half pink? or even just washing the walls behind him? i eat that shit UP. the METAPHOR. the CONFLICT. i will acquiesce that green and pink are (and were) pretty goddamn industry standard gels (color-films) to add to lights, for subtle contrast, but this is not subtle. it is LOUD. was it purposefully done from a storytelling perspective? no idea. is it cool as shit and interpret-able as hell? absolutely. also sometimes they do it with just green when they want to emphasize his vulcan-ness and other him a bit. like they do it a lot when he's in his room in amok time. anyway.

whenever they shutter a light so they can emphasize a character's (kirk, we're talking abt kirk here. and *sometimes* spock, and also Charlie in Charlie X but yeah mostly kirk) eyes when they say something #Deep, or just pre-commercial break closure worthy line. it's so SHJSDJBFEJNKN. to add onto this, they'll do a striking half-wash over half of their face sometimes in conjunction and it looks So Good

The GOBOS. sometimes, they'll just throw light through a gobo, or wall screen, or something, for /visual interest/ and it looks so silly i love it sm. does it make sense from a realism pov? nO. but star trek is a theater production actually and they lit everything using mainly naturalistic techniques! amazing!

honorable mentions: the glowing time donut, and the entirely random colors in the hallway.

there are so many other examples but this post is long enough lmao. notice the lights next time you watch tos!!,! please!!! <3

[hoziersmicrophone]

‘you’re too sweet for me’ - graham dunne

warnings: just pure fluff with graham, billy’s an asshole (shocker), smoking, alcohol, drugs

a/n: enjoy!! i am in my missing djats era <3

“do you think we’ll ever have a normal life?”

you took a drag off of graham’s cigarette before putting it back between his lips, the question he just asked lingering in the air among the group sitting on the balcony of billy and camilla’s house.

“graham, don’t be philosophical,” said billy, rolling his eyes, “i hate it when you do that.”

“you don’t have to be a dick about it,” graham muttered, only loud enough for you to hear as he exhaled smoke.

you laughed lightly. your head was on graham’s lap and your feet were on eddie’s lap as you sprawled across the one couch that they had for outdoor furniture.

he smiled down at you and took a swig of the beer he was holding.

billy and camilla started talking about something else and eddie and warren started throwing a football back and forth.

“the stars look so pretty tonight,” you said as you stared up at the sky.

graham’s face popped into your vision and he grinned as you rolled your eyes, “sorry, am i blocking your view?”

you smiled back and shrugged nonchalantly, “i dunno, i could say it got better.”

his ears went red. “could?”

“i definitely could say it, but i won’t because i don’t wanna give you that satisfaction,”

graham rolled his eyes but laughed, “you’re the worst.”

“oh i definitely believe that you think that,” you said sarcastically, grinning up at the curly haired man.

graham laughed again and brought his beer bottle to his lips. as he did, warren’s throw of the football went a bit awry and flew right into the bottle, causing graham’s arm to jolt and cold beer to splash all over your face and shirt.

“fucking hell, warren!” you shrieked, sitting up and trying to wipe the beer off of your face.

“shit, sorry!” he replied, trying so hard to hide his evident laughter.

billy and camilla stopped their conversation at the commotion, and camilla immediately ran inside to grab a towel.

billy however, started laughing and doubled over in uncontrollable laughter.

you glared at him as you stood up and headed towards the door, needing to find a towel and a clean shirt.

“fuck you, billy,” you hissed as you passed him, as he continued to laugh.

you ran inside to see camilla holding a towel out. you smiled softly, thanking her.

upstairs in the bathroom, you pulled your shirt off and dried off your chest. your shirt was soaked as you hung it over the shower curtain to dry.

you walked back into the bedroom and heard a knock at the door.

“come in,”

the door opened and you heard graham’s voice, “hey, i’m sorry about them. are you okay-oh-sorry-“ he looked up, and tried to back out of the room.

you laughed lightly, “graham, it’s okay,”

he pushed the door back open and smiled lightly.

“and i’m alright. cold, but alright.”

graham walked into the room and watched as you grabbed a t-shirt, pulling it over your head.

he saw goosebumps rise on your still exposed skin and without thinking about it, shrugged off his hoodie, stepped closer to you and pulled it over your shoulders.

he moved your hair so that it wasn’t stuck in the back of his sweater and smiled, “it looks good on you,”

“thanks graham cracker,” you said, smiling back at him.

he rolled his eyes at the nickname. you were the only person he’d ever let get away with saying it, although he’d never let you know that.

“do you wanna head back outside?” he asked, his eyes focused and soft as he looked into yours.

“in a few minutes. i wanna stay here with you for a few quiet minutes. it’s peaceful.”

he chuckled but obliged, “how much of this is the wine talking?”

“would you believe me if i told you none at all?”

graham shook his head and you smiled up at him, turning your head to the side.

“graham,” you paused, unsure of how he was going to react to your next words.

“yea?” he asked, his eyes reflecting concern.

“would you kiss me?” your voice lowered to a whisper as your eyes flickered to his lips.

you watched as graham dunne’s face split into the biggest shit eating grin you had ever seen as he grabbed your face gently between both of his hands.

“i thought you’d never ask.”

[buttercups-song]

Ok things i loved about season two that have nothing to do with ineffable husbands because yea we’re not talking about it:

It was so so deliciously queer. Neil saw reviews for the sandman saying it was too queer and said hold my beer we can do one better

All of aziraphale’s neighbours! Just visibly queer! Obviously Maggie and Nina but also the man in the magic shop and his genderqueer spouse! Just random men zira meets at a cemetery!

Also we got confirmation that as much as heaven sucks it’s not homophobic. Aziraphale told them that he used a large miracle to make Maggie and Nina fall in love and they couldn’t care less

Canon they/them beelzebub! Also yea I have to admit their romance with Gabriel is really fucking cute (and if I see anyone calling them a ‘het’ couple I will be going for your kneecaps)

They/them god!

Crowley straight up saying that he’s not a man! I don’t know much about historical clothes but the resurrectionist outfit has a more feminine silhouette and generally looks pretty androgynous for a XIXth century outfit .Also just everything about Crowley. He was so excited about stars!

All of the disabled angels! (And presumably demons? Hell is dark and it’s hard to see all the details) they are angels! Presumably they can do whatever they want with their corporations! And one of the most powerful angels uses a wheelchair!

Also fat characters! And middle aged characters! Who get to be attractive and desirable! Also just people who look like people.

There’s a sex worker who just is a part of community and is not villainised! The only joke is that when she explains what she does everyone speaks like they’re in a Jane Austen novel because aziraphale is throwing a ball!

Season two was so good and so much fun and if we don’t get the third season I WILL eat my computer!

[faeriecap]

Ask No Omen

“Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws, and asks no omen, but his country's cause. ”

Sam blinks and elderly Steve seems to have merged into thin air. He stares at the vacant space beside him on the bench, knuckles clenched around the edges of the heavy case. Its circular shape is familiar, and yet entirely alien to him. He stays that way for a minute, ten minutes, maybe. Bucky, probably still gazing forlornly at the platform, or the bench, doesn’t approach. Banner mutters under his breath about five minutes, just five and pushes every button on the keypad with furious fingers.

Silence falls amongst the group, save for the quiet sound of Bucky trying and failing to privately cry. He said he was gonna miss him. Sam thinks, and looks away from the dejected face of the man who is slowly but surely becoming his friend. His tamped down sobs sound loudly in the empty space, the only other background noise the rustling leaves in the wind. Then, all at once, the portal whirs to life and a figure forms from millions of sparkling atoms in a nanosecond. Steve gapes at them all: Bruce’s wide, open-mouth (also green inside), the shock shining in Sam’s expression, the way Natasha seems to shrink a little behind him. Bucky looks as though he’s been slapped across the face, and his cheeks glisten.

“Oh, hey…” Steve steps in, forcing down the urge to fling his fists around. He can't fight this, the source of those tears. He’s the cause. He’s made Bucky cry. His fingers brush them away. “I know I promised to knock the lights out of anyone who hurt you, Buck, but I already wrestled myself once and I just got back.”

Bucky chokes on a watery laugh, and claps Steve on the back a little too hard. “Fuck you, Rogers. Seriously,” His hands slide down his shoulders and curl tightly around his hips. “I can’t believe you did that!”

Steve’s pelvis seems to gravitate closer to Bucky of its own accord.

“What, you really thought I’d leave you? I told you what I was doing!” His fingers card through the hair falling just before Bucky’s eyes. “End of the line. I’d never go back on that.” He adds seriously, getting his own grip on Barnes’ waist, thumbs swiping over the outline of his hip bones.

“But… You were late.”

“Only by a few minutes. Turns out Schmidt was still alive, sort of-”

“No!”

“Yes! And no one thought to tell me that the Guardian of the Soul Stone was my fucking wartime enemy?” Steve throws his hands up, shooting a glare at the rest of them. “Good thing I know how to piss him off already, it came in handy getting Tasha back.”

“Yea- How did you…” Bruce cuts in, but he falls quiet when Natasha, finally unspooked, throws her arms around him.

“I thought… I thought you really did it. Went back to Peggy with the extra particles.” Bucky sniffs, and hugs him tighter.

“Uh- what?” Bruce lifts his chin from Natasha’s hair.

Steve shakes his head, once, firmly. “I did. Got that last dance. She showed me pictures of her wedding, her kids, her “husband,” her new flame who’s a movie star. Hell, Buck, she won an Oscar, and she knows how to make pasta from scratch! How would I have lived up to that?”

“You’re right. You burn toast, Rogers.” He says it so lovingly, though, that Sam, who’s been inching closer to the portal, feels like he should take another step back and give them some privacy. Damn.

“Captain America. War material yes, domestic husbandry material, no,” Steve agrees with a sigh. “Anyways, it was tempting. To-to stay. I mean, it was familiar, it was Peggy… But after everything that’s happened- I’m just not the guy she fell in love with anymore. She’ll always love me. The me she knew. And I’ll love her as I remember her. But she’s moved on. She wanted me to do the same. And that time, it wasn’t any more familiar because I slept through it. This is home now.”

He meets Bucky’s eyes with a shy, soft smile. “So I completed my mission. Returned every Stone to its proper place. The only thing I really changed was Nat.”

His shoulders square, and he raises himself up to his full height, imposing against some unseen challenger. “I returned the Stone, and neither the one who paid for it, nor the recipient were the one to use it. Tony-” Steve’s voice still breaks a little on the name. “He took a free ride. Clint didn’t. And I brought it back, which is more than Thanos could say. So… It was only fair.”

Steve preens a little as Bucky laughs incredulously and socks him in the arm. Leave it to America’s Most Righteous Ass to figure out how to best the very order of the universe.

“So- You didn’t tell Peggy where you… were?”

Steve’s smile twists into something more delicately sad. “No. I figured… Better to leave things as they are, rather than wishing for more I could never have. We don’t trade lives. Maybe Cap was supposed to come back when I did, to save all those people when they needed me. He could have done a lot of good in the last century, but then who’s to say what would have happened when the time to assemble came around? If we weren’t all together… Maybe nobody gets saved.”

“So OG Cap’s still frozen?” Bruce confirms.

Steve nods, growing a little uncomfortable. Sam’s temples throb with an oncoming migraine. He’s still dumbly standing there, holding the shield. He averts his eyes, shifting the case under one arm to wave a hand in front of their starry eyes.

“Wait…” Sam cuts in, with an unimpressed expression. “So, if you came back here… And you didn’t wake up yourself in the ice...”

“Uh huh…” Steve nods, sounding lost.

Sam shakes his head, running an hand across his forehead and down to rub at the back of his neck. “Then who the hell was that old guy, man?”

Steve falters, his bemused expression going from blank to rigid. His back stiffens and his hard eyes scan the area, fists balling at his sides. “What old man, Sam?”

Sam’s eyes go wide. “Oh. Uh… The old dude. He was just here. And he was, well, he was you. But like, ancient.”

“Right.” Bucky cuts in, one hand still scrubbing over his wet lashes. “I figured it was you, Stevie. I mean he looked just like you… and he had the shield.”

The disappointment in his voice is gone as quickly as it came, replaced with the bright surprise of having Steve, his Steve, in his arms again.

“He had my shield?”

“Shiny and new, doesn’t look a year over 1945.” Sam replies, unzipping the case to flash the vibranium. All three men have become pictures of tension.

“What the fuck?” Steve breathes, staring around at the empty grass before them. Back behind them, Bruce and Nat look as equally lost standing by the portal.

“Uh, guys, is everything okay?” Bruce calls out. “Because, seriously, I’m pretty intelligent and I have no idea what the hell is going on right now.”

“Let me get this straight.” Sam starts, holding up a hand, and laughs a little at the irony of the statement. “Did you give me the shield, this shield-” Sam lets it fall to the pavement with a sturdy thunk. “To become the next Captain America or not?”

Steve’s eyes nearly pop out of his head. He clutches Bucky as though to hold himself up with one hand, and his chest with the other, like he still has arrhythmia. “What? No!”

A wounded look flashes across Sam’s face, and then Steve slips into further panic.

“No, no! Sam!” He backpedals. “You’d be a great Cap. Honestly, I think that would be a great idea… I haven’t wanted to be him for a while now, being truthful. What I meant was that definitely was not me who told you that before.”

“Then who the hell was it?” Natasha chimes in, already sounding on the alert and back to her old self.

They all hear the off-kilter and slightly over dramatic giggling as it echoes around the trees, sending at first a cold shiver down their spine, and then a spike of dread through their veins. Steve just feels tired, honestly. He sags a little against his best friend, whose confounded face, void of recognition, still peers around the vacant park. The laughter gets louder, and a golden helm flashes through the branches of one of the trees.

“I always was good at impersonating you, Captain, but I think this was my best yet!”

Sam looks down with a scream; a thick white snake slithers around his arm, the empty case unzippered at his feet, kicking up dust where it fell.

“Loki…” Bruce growls, clenching his huge teeth.

The god in question flashes them a cheeky grin, vanishing in a spark of blue light before any of them can draw a weapon. Well, Bucky throws a knife with one hand, but it hits the tree behind where the trickster squatted a moment before and lodges itself into the rough wood.

“God, was he always that annoying?” Steve barks, and Natasha rolls her eyes with a shake of her head.

“Ugh. Yes. I call not having to deal with that particular loose end. I died already.” She tosses a tiny grin at Steve, a secret smile of a moment shared between them upon her return.

“I thought you’d do anything for family.” He quips back, pulling her into another hug, one arm around her, the other draped over Bucky’s shoulders.

“Yes. But I’m hungry as hell right now, and exhausted. I want a peanut butter sandwich, and Clint, in my room at the base immediately. He can tell me the story before I take a nap.”

Bruce whistles like it pains him. “Yea… We sort of lost the complex.”

“It blew up.” Sam helpfully supplies in a deadpan, waving his arms, sans snake, in the motion of a large cloud.

Natasha, to her credit, doesn’t seem very surprised.

“And Tony…”

“I know.” Natasha stops Bruce, laying a hand on his meaty forearm. “Steve told me. I’m sorry I missed the service.”

“We’re just glad to have you back.” Steve says quietly, muscling her into the waiting car. He knows this isn't the end, that it's going to kick in soon. Natasha’s alive, everyone’s alive, thanks to the Iron Man’s sacrifice. And he’s going to have a lot of explaining to do… To baffled Bruce, to Scott, to Hank Pym. But for now, his friend needs to eat. He wonders if that old place still has shawarma. They could get it in Tony’s honor.

Later, when everyone’s stomachs are sated, and Natasha’s curled under a heavy blanket on Sam’s couch after a much longer processing session by all, with tears and curses and happy shouts of elated disbelief (everyone hugs Natasha about a hundred times, including Clint, who shows up immediately, and won’t let go), Sam and Steve are out on his porch, watching the cars lazily snake down the streets in the golden glow of the setting sun. He’s got a glass of sweet tea, an old addiction he picked up from Riley, in hand. The cool frost on the glass trickles down his fingers.

“Did you mean it? About me… Taking the mantle?”

Steve eyes him for a moment in contemplative silence. “Yes. I can’t think of anyone more deserving, or capable. You did much more for me when I came back than just fight in my battles. And that’s what really proved you were right for the job.”

Sam seems a little stunned, or flattered, or both. He ducks his head with a slightly crazed chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Sam Wilson, Captain America. What’ll you tell the world?”

“I gotta tell ‘em anything? Maybe they’ll just think I died… I know I’m good at speeches, but I’m a little tired of my every other word being a monologue for someone else’s sake.”

Sam nods, knowing it’s not his decision to challenge. “But you’ll be around… In case-”

“In case the world needs me? I’ll be around. I’m not actually gonna die. But I was a wanted man… And the lack of a shield or a star spangled suit didn’t seem to stop me from helping others.”

“No, man. In case I need you.” Sam’s voice goes serious, vulnerable.

“To what? Kick your butt on a race course?” Steve smirks, nudging him with one shoulder. “As your mentor, you don’t need me. You’re doing a pretty good job on your own. As your friend, always. I’ll be here for a long time it looks like.”

Sam thinks back to when he lost Riley. He can’t imagine losing him twice, but Steve did, with Peggy. With Bucky too. With his actual timeline. Given the chance, he turned away from a do-over in his life, forced himself to face his problems head on. Sam’s pretty sure he’d make the same choice, but he knows it couldn’t have been easy. Maybe that’s what Steve sees in him. But before he was Cap, he was Cap’s friend. His best friend, maybe, besides Nat and Bucky. So he gives the hand beside him a quick squeeze. If Steve wants to talk about it, he knows Sam’s there. But if he doesn’t, he won’t push him. So that’s why what he says next is: “And what about the… Shield and all that?”

“Well. New Captain America. Means new shield, new suit. New incarnation. Seems best to leave it up to you to decide.” He looks Sam in the eye. “You get to define the mantle now, bud. Don’t let it define you like I did.”

Sam nods, a little bit overwhelmed with emotion. He’s already thinking about plans for a new shield. Maybe still using vibranium, but ethically sourced, not smuggled, this time. Maybe if he works it out, T’Challa and Shuri would be more than happy to provide. And wings… He thinks he might miss those if they weren’t worked into the design. Steve beams at him, happy to see him already losing himself to his thoughts.

“Happy daydreaming, Cap.” He murmurs, with one last squeeze, and the sound of the screen door sliding open again as Steve Rogers heads back inside.

reblogs are appreciated :)

[spellbook-gayboy]

[gasps] oooh 61

Y’know what? I think it’s about time.

61.

"I- no, I-!" The Viltrumite stammered, sweating profusely in front of his superior. "I mean- it's just that the- the prisoner-!"

"Pardon me, Commander," The elder Viltrumite sneered down at him, "but your inane yammering does not sound like an apology to me. Do I need to remind you of my policy on such flagrant of snivelling?"

Almost immediately, the commander straightened up, scared into calmness by the subtle threat. "My apologies, General. I shall work on apologising more acceptably in future." He rattled off all at once, so monotonously that he could easily be mistaken for an android. "It's the prisoner, General."

"Which one?" The general sighed in exasperation, her brows creased.

"The Unopan, General. He escaped."

Her head snapped up so fast it almost caused a shockwave. "What?!"

---

"Just so you know, I'm really grateful for the rescue and all," Allen struggled to think through the pain, "but your claw thingies are really digging into my side!"

"Hmm? Oh, jha'ag! Sorry, sometimes I forget not every species is as dense as mine!" The stranger apologised, setting him down on a nearby boulder. "Is that better?"

Allen nodded. "Much better! So, uh, did the Coalition send you? Is Thadeus that worried about me?"

The stranger tilted their head. "What's a ‘Thadeus’?"

"Guess not. Hey, wait a minute," he noticed, "You're a Miq'otas, right? From the Alr'ior Quadrant? Man, I thought the Viltrumites wiped you guys out decades ago!"

"Well, they tried!" The stranger replied. Their gaze turned upwards, spotting a small cloud of white spots approaching. "Speaking of which, here comes the afterparty! Ok, V'zar, showtime!" They thought aloud, taking a few steps along the surface of the small dwarf planet. They tensed, and the strangest thing began to happen: their body began to exude a searing golden light, wafting off them in waves of cosmic energy that spilled over onto the rocky surface, lifting small pieces of rock up off the ground. Their legs bent, and they rocketed off into the vastness of space like a shooting star, a thin trail of ghost-light following behind them as they tore through space at breakneck speed. 

---

"Unbelievable! You should be thanking the forebears that Grand Regent Thragg has not already heard of this blunder, Commander!" the general practically yelled into her subordinate's head. "If it were not for the threat that the prisoner posed, I would've beaten you within an inch of your miserable-!" She sneered through her thought receiver, but was cut off when a flash of bright light rippled from behind her, knocking her and several others off-balance for a moment or two. The general righted herself quickly, before pivoting around to search for the cause of the explosion. Nothing, not even her fearful subordinate. "Commander?"

The commander was gone. Well, not completely, if the detached smouldering arm that floated by her was any indication. No sooner had the general registered what had happened, another Viltrumite was attacked, snatched by a flash of gold. Then all hell seemed to break loose, bolts of light flashing against the inky darkness of deep space as the streak of searing energy whipped between the many warriors of Viltrum, cutting and ploughing through one after another, roaring through space like a homicidal comet. Before she even realised, the streak had turned its sights on the general. She readied her best combat stance and charged it, but was no match for the sheer velocity of the ball of energy. The impact of it tore through her like she were made of paper, violently bursting her open like the universe’s goriest balloon, scattering appendages among the stars. 

At the sight of their leader being dispatched, the warriors’ morale seemed to desert them completely, a number of them turning and flying back to the warship they had come from. The stranger became emboldened by their retreat, grabbing a floating limb and throwing it in their direction. “Yeah, that’s right! Run, shu’jhakz! Tell your leader Agent Asteroid said hi!”

“Agent Asteroid?” Allen questioned, floating up next to his rescuer. “You sure you’re not with the Coalition?” He asked. Now that he was level with the stranger, he finally got a good look at them: like all Miq’otas he had met, they were tall and thinly built, their reed-like limbs combining with their leaf-green skin to make them seem more like a sentient plant. Their face was mostly featureless, save for a pair of beady yellow eyes devoid of irises, as well as a pair of small patches, one on both sides of their head, that glowed with a faint white light. The rescuer’s hands were small compared to his, each with two claws that resembled fingers, and a smaller claw resembling a thumb. Their feet were much more basic, possessing feet similar to humans with the exceptions of having no toes. Their attire, however, was quite different from what he knew of Miq’otas culture: it resembled a space suit used by other Coalition agents, but was clearly assembled from scrapped pieces of armour, dented and slightly rusty, with burns along the edges visible under the crudely applied red and gold paint. Around them was a thin sheen of burning energy, coating their skin in a layer of cosmic light and occasionally rolled off their body and dissipated, reminding Allen of yellow suns that sometimes ejected their mass in massive coronas of gas and heat. 

“Well, I applied, but they never got back to me. Which in hindsight is probably my fault for losing my communicator, but...,” V’zar wondered, shrugging, “Hey, aren’t you that really Unopan guy? Ellen, right?”

“Allen, actually, but yeah, that’s me. How did you find me, anyway?”

“Oh, I was just coming back from Urath and-”

“Urath?” Allen cut in, his singular eye widening at the mention of the planet. “I’ve been trying to get there for almost a whole solar cycle! How’re things on there anyway? I’m supposed to check on them!”

V’zar stilled. Nothing changed on his mostly featureless face, but the sudden tension in his tall spindly frame betrayed his embarrassment. “Uh... not good, to be honest with you.” They admitted, scratching the underside of their head. “On the bright side, at least the Viltrumites won’t be invading anytime soon!”

“...okay, I guess.” Allen nodded. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, I should probably head back to Talescria.” He moved to turn and fly away, but stopped. “Do you... wanna come with?”

V’zar whipped around, their orange orbs almost glowing. “Really?!”

“Of course, dude! You saved my life!” Allen affirmed. “Thadeus said we should always look for new recruits for the Coalition’s field agency. You’d fit in perfectly!”

“Oh, that is so klul’ghaz! I always wanted to be an actual agent. Thanks, dude!”

[spacemimz]

Your random ask

The Entire Rat Movie Script 

Rats: Rats, we’re rats, we’re the rats! We prey at night, we stalk at night, we’re the rats!

Giant rat: I’m da giant rat that makes all of da rules!

Rats: Let’s see what kind of trouble we can get ourselves into!

Dick: So sue me for being thorough, I wanna know that you know what the plan is.

Trench Coat Man: Look, seriously mate, how many artifacts do we need to steal before you trust me with these jobs?

Dick: Well I just want to make sure you know what’s happening, we’re gonna get the treasure, we’re gonna get outta there and we’re als- stars mumbling

Blue man: HUAHAHA

Dick: And we must get it! That’s the most important thing. So be on your A game, we go now!

Blue Man: I get to drive the car today cuz it’s my birthday!

Dick: No don’t let him get in the car -uhh please don’t let-

Blue man: quietly come on

Dick: Oh he’s driving, whatever.

Trench coat Man: Bloody hell. Oi, more importantly, since when did we have a rat problem?

Dick: We don’t, get in. - Lets go, speed it up! Yeah that’s the speed i’m looking for, that’s the kind of fastness I want! *cuts to the town*

Dick: I don’t even know where you’re going at this point, we’ve been driving all night.

Blue man: It’s my birthday

Dick: Hey you-you just- you’re running over a guy right now. He’s fucking serious?

Trench Coat Man: Can you remind me next time we do this, I’m getting my nan to drive *Camera cuts inside of a cafe shop*

Clerk: Um yea excuse me sir, yea you over there dancing, it’s actually $10 to dance in this building so you’re gonna have to give me- we’re all gonna die!!!!

Dick: Ladies and gentlemen of the jury may I have the attention of the class. My name is Dick “Dastardly” Richard, and I’m here to take the treasure chest that’s in the back room! Go get it boys, I’ll follow you in. And let me tell you something Clerk, if you so as move a muscle, I’ll make sure you stay buried in that ground there, alright let’s go.

Dick goes into the Mayan Temple, the golden statue comes alive and follows him

Dick: Alright, gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme gimme, is the treasure in there? Is it in there?

Trench Coat Man: Yep, it’s all here.

Dick: Ohhh yes! Now that’s what I like to hear. And now we are invincible!

Gerrard: Not so fast! You stand before Gerrard, Guardian of the treasure chest of the Mayan temple, and I will make sure to— hey!

Giant Rat picks him up and throws him into the abyss

Trench Coat Man: Ah fuck this, I’m off.

Gerrard: Hey wha- what are you doing?

Rats: We’re the rats. We prey at night, we stalk at night, we’re the rats!

Dick: Alright yea that’s cool yea I like rats, nothing bad with rats but let me tell you something, over my dead body are you getting this treasure -rats, rats, rats, rats, rats, rats-

Blue Man: Oh man look at that flock of birds over there that reminds me of my favourite movie, da movie! That’s your favourite movie too right?

Giant Rat: No my favourite movie’s frozen, I like Elsa and Anna, ok now I kill you kick

Blue Man: Wow that’s great pick choice for favouritist movie, I wonder if I have to think that now...

Small/Giant Rat: Now I get to be the giant rat cool surprise!

Camera moves back to the town where the police have arrived

Police Officer: So you’re trying to tell me that inside this building right here there is a giant rat, among other things giant pickles, did he say pickles? Or am I putting that in there by myself. Whatever, Sargent Pickles is gonna go in there and check it out we’re gonna make sure everything’s ok, and uh get me some candy corn too, that’s a weird request I know but just get it.

Camera cuts back into the cafe shop

Giant rat: You guys are gonna drop it and we’re gonna be in big trouble so quit prancing around- I hear somebody coming somebody- put it down put it down, hey get in! Hello, sir welcome to the rat cafe, there’s no rats here there’s just uh hamburgers.

Police Officer 2: Yeeah that would be real nice if that were true, except it isn’t, your a rat, aren’t you?

Giant rat: No no why would that happen that’s not we’re just ra- We’re just people.

Police officer 2: Man I’m gonna be taking you in an-

Jerma: You know wouldn’t this be funny it it were real? Haha just kidding. Be careful apparently there’s a giant rat around.

Giant rat: You have a good day officer

Officer leaves and Camera follows to the town

Police officer: So, ya figure anything out in there?

Police officer 2. Nah, he’s clean. It’s back to the drawing board.

Police officer: Well that’s, that’s great uh I don’t know how to draw so you’re gonna have to do the drawing.

Cat police music starts and the cat police arrive

Scritchy Scratch: Sergeant Scritchy Scratch of the cat police reporting in! You are now relived if your duty.

Police officer 1 & 2: gibberish simultaneous approving the cat police

Scritchy Scratch: Thank you, your duty will not go unnoticed. What’s that on you?

Police officer 2: What?

Scritchy Scratch: Are you wearing a rat on your shoulder?

Police officer 2: Why would I be wearing a-

The small rat drives into the cafe shop after stealing a police car

Small rat: Boss we got big problems! The cat police are here!

Giant rat: What are you kidding me right now cat police? Get us the fuck outta here! Ueeeh drive the car! Get us out! Let’s speed it up! Get us the fuck outta here! Cat police!

Rats: Inaudible screaming and yelling

Scritchy Scratch: Good job cat police, you did it again you saved the world, and that’s what we do as cat police, we make the world a better pl-

Camera cuts to space where Earth blows up and a UFO with a cat head is nearby

Ngl I read through this and I was hoping for "crazy? I was crazy once. They put me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room with rats. Rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They put me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room with rats. Rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They put me in a room-"

But alas I have been given something greater even, thank you

[jiabeewrites]

Where did that voice come from?

Her head hurt.

That was the first thought that came into Jessi's mind as she regained conciousness.

Jessi.

Was that her name? It sounded right. 

Jessi opened her eyes. It looked like she was in an alley. It was similar to the alleyways of Gotham, except for the fact that the sky was red and the "sun" (or was it a moon?) was also red. The sun-moon thing had a red star that looked like it was doodled by a child. Where on earth was she?

"You're not on earth." Did she say that out loud? And where the heck did that voice come from? 

Oh. Maybe it came from that guy in front of her. 

The man (she assumed it was a man) had two pairs of arms. His skin was gray, and he wore a long, red coat with fur on the cuffs, neck, and bottom. The neck fur was particularly large and had red hearts on it. He had what looked like a zebra-patterned shirt (or was it a dress?) underneath. His glasses were heart-shaped, and the lenses were tinted red. He had a hat that was also red, and gave off an Abraham Lincoln vibe. Yaknow, the kind that was like "I'm tall but I'm gonna wear a top hat because I'm just gonna be taller than you."

Oh yea, he was also REALLY TALL. 

His appearance would throw her off, except for the fact that there were a TON of themed crazies in Gotham. What was Gotham anyway?

She was gonna need some Advil.

"Who are you?" Jessi asked. The tall man grinned at her. His teeth were pointed. 

"My name is Valentino, sweetheart. You're in hell." 

What. THe. FUCK?!?!

"Hell!? How the heck did I get into hell?" Valentino opened his mouth to talk, but Jessi cut him off before he could say anything.

"Wait, does that mean I'm dead?!" He sighed.

"Yes, you're dead. Do you think you get into hell when you're alive?" he asked. She mulled it over.

"I guess not..."

"What's your name, sweetie?" he asked. She frowned. What was her name? "Jessi" didn't exactly sound like a complete name. 

Suddenly it all came flooding back.

"You killed Robin. So now I'm gonna kill you."

~🧡💛🤍💙~🧡💛🤍💙~🧡💛🤍💙~🧡💛🤍💙~🧡💛🤍💙~

A/N:

Welcome to "My Deer"!

I'm super excited to share my first fanfic with all of you guys! 

I definitely don't expect this fic to go anywhere, but if you're reading this, thank you. Every single read makes me so happy. 

This is a Hazbin Hotel x OC x DC, so do expect some Batfam and maybe YJ characters eventually. 

If ANY of this sounds like something you've read before, PLEASE MESSAGE ME. 

I'm not entirely sure the exact path I'm going with this, so please feel free to add any suggestions or request any scenario you want Jessi to be in! I might not insert them into the story just because it doesn't fit with the main storyline/plot, but I'll try my best!

Did you use a different facial wash? Bc you're ✨ glowing✨

-Jia

unedited

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

You Can’t Get Better Than A Thrombey

Summary- 4.7 Ransom x You. You and Ransom have a good thing going. Friends with benefits and nothing more. But Ransom’s selfish ways end up ruining it, and you are done. Gone. You moved on with your life. Until one traveling night that brings you back to the city you had left behind, and of course Ransom Drysdale shows up. Written for @imanuglywombat​ Wombat’s Ugly 4k Challenge. 

Warnings- This fic has a spousal cheating element to it. Please do not read if that bothers you. Other warnings, Smut, Male receiving Oral and Swears. 

A/N- Thank you @imanuglywombat​ for the wonderful challenge! It was so much fun. Congratulations on your follower count babes. 

A/N Two- Moodboard Wombat made is at the very bottom of the fic, and the lyrics used for second prompt, Good Luck by Basement Jaxx will be in italiacs through the fic. 

A/N three- if just occurred to me that the whole "you cant get better then a thrombey" came from @jtargaryen18 series Naughty Ransom Holiday Tales, which her Ransom Drysdale series is top tier and absolutely should go read. It's one of my favorites. Probably why the line got stuck in my head.

“Come on Baby, just one more.” Ransom hissed against your ear, his tongue swiping over the shell of your ear while tightening his hold on your throat, your sobs coming out half strangled from needing to come on his cock that he kept pounding into you. Feet planted on the plush hotel carpet, his thrusts into your cunt had you gasping with need while your channel fluttered around his cock. He grasped your hand that was currently buried in his hair and wrenched your hand down to press against your stomach. “Feel that Kitten, how I’m rearranging your guts and fucking you useless for anyone else?” 

Your head nodded, as much as he allowed with the hold on your throat, causing his fingers to flex, closing around your throat tighter till you were seeing sparks blossom in your sight and that's when you couldn't hold back anymore. Behind you, Ransom's sweaty chest clung like wrap to your back, vibrating as he grunted against your shoulder. You ended up flooding his cock, gushing on your thighs and slicking against his as he pounded you harder now, grabbing your hips and rutting you now to reach his end. Leaving your limp body to be rag-dolled in his lap till he shot himself inside of you to paint your walls, and you both fell back against the ruined California King bed, the sheets sex sweat stained from earlier. 

Gasping breaths and heaving chests were the only sound in the overheated room, and you eased off him, your back peeling away to roll next to him with a groan. You peeked at him from where you had buried your head against the crook of your arm, and admired the flushed cheeks, and still tensing tendons in his neck, his hair was all disheveled and out of its usual place from where he always had it groomed back. “Mmh, what are you staring at?” He questioned before turning to look at you, his ridiculously long lashes were swept against his cheek for half a second before cold crystal cerulean’s looked at you inquiring. 

“I'm looking at your post orgasm face.” You respond, and prop a hand under your head once you turn to your side. “It's a good look on you Ransom, one of your better ones.” 

He arched a brow as he reached over, tracing the curve of your breast before tugging on a still sensitive nipple to make you gasp, and shove your hand against his shoulder making him smirk in his signature way. “Fucking glad you approve, maybe we should do this more often.” 

“Well next time you're in the city, give me a call.” You say swinging up to sit on the edge of the bed, looking around at your discarded clothing. 

“And where the fuck you going?” He tugged you back to tumble into the bed, rolling over you so you could feel his thighs wedge yours apart and his hips drop into place. You fold your arms across your chest and huff, looking up at him as he braced himself above you, tendrils of sweaty hair falling over his forehead. 

“You can't be serious Ransom, again? I have to go back to my apartment. I have a work meeting tomorrow with my bosses.” You state matter of fact. “Besides, whatever happened to that no sleeping over rule?” 

“Who says I'm letting you sleep? I barely get to come to the city anyways.” He lowered over you, pressing his soft pillowed lips in all your weakest spots on your shoulder and neck, a hand sliding between your thighs and into slick folds. Fuck this man, your mind thought till it went blank again in the sensation of his fingers so expertly playing between your petals that you already were stretching your thighs wider for him. “I haven't thoroughly fucked you yet.” 

“God I hate you.” You moaned out as you felt your resolve fluttering into his favor, the metal of his pinkie rubbed against your clit and a long finger stretched you open once more. 

“Well this sure isn't love Kitten, cause I'm about to destroy you. Admit it Y/N, you haven't had anything better than me.” He expertly gave you those long fingered strokes that had you keening his name, losing your entire resolve. 

“That's my girl…” He praised above you while you grabbed his biceps and started to climb to the heavens all over again.

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

A knock on the door disturbed your sleep. You stirred in confusion against the overly soft pillow that wasn't at all familiar. You lifted your head in confusion, looking around when another knock came, and you heard Ransom yell from the bathroom, snapping it open. “Fuck, will be right there.” 

You clutched the sheet and sat up, rubbing at your eyes while he brought in a cart with covered trays. “I didn't think you would ever get up Y/N.” He said while wheeling it to a table, and it occurred to you that the sun was awful bright. 

“Oh shit, Ransom, what time is it?” You shoot across the bed, looking desperately for your cell phone, and he gives a shrug while lifting the cover off one tray. 

“Hell if I know… 10? 11?” he says while grabbing a piece of toast and biting the corner while you are moving aside pillows trying to find your phone. 

“Ransom!” You snagged your phone from under a pillow, and checked the notifications. Closing your eyes in frustration. “It's more like 1 in the afternoon, and I was supposed to have a meeting at 10. I set my alarm.” 

Ransom strode over to you as you were typing out a message to your office hurriedly. “Oh, yea I might have silenced it this morning. The fucking thing wouldn’t stop chirping.” 

Your eyes lifted from your screen and said with utmost disbelief. “You… silenced it?”

“It was so fucking early and woke me up Y/N.” Like you had inconvenienced him. “I don’t know why you set the fucking thing anyways.” He said, and you felt rage well up in your chest, pushing up out of the bed, and grabbed at your clothes. 

“You did it this time Ransom. You are a fuck buddy, and yet you take the whole thing quite literally don’t you.” You grab at your panties, shoving them on and then snatch your bra. “Fucked me over on the most important meeting of my life, I should have known better then to answer your fucking text.” You are ranting to yourself, searching for your skirt. 

Ransom seems confused at your words, starting to follow you around. “You’re mad because of that job? I’ve told you a hundred times to come on as Harlan's assistant. He’s been looking for years and you would be perfect. Probably pay you better and you can come to my place more often.” His tone turned cocky while saying this, his gift to you apparently. 

You pushed past Ransom without even saying anything, grabbing your shirt and shoving it over your head. “You sold me down the river now Ransom.” You grab at your heels and slip them on while reading the message on your phone sent back from your office. Basically telling you to get your ass in because the boss wanted to see you. Breathing out in defeat. “I hope you’re feeling happy now.” You drop it in your bag while he gives an exaggerated eye roll at you. 

“Come on Y/N, It's not the end of the world.” He grasped your arm to stop you storming out, and you hiss at him. 

“You don't get it Ransom do you, I worked hard for this, my whole fucking life. And I let you ruin it for me. I should be mad at you but it would be such a waste  of energy on you. So I’m mad at myself more.” You look him up and down while wrenching your arm out of his grasp, and look up at him, committing him to memory, this exact expression of his. Signature sneer crossing his face that edged on his face with a smirk like he would fix this problem with the easiest way possible. It might have worked with another woman, one who thought that he ‘Loved Her’ but you were not fooled, there was no love between you. This was a way to scratch an itch. One that you needed to break away from. Now that the damage was done. 

“We’re all done Ransom, I can’t keep doing this shit anymore with you. The consequences outweigh the benefits of sleeping with you.” You started towards the door and you felt him spin you around, pressing you against the door. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Kitten?” He sneered down at you, and when you tried to push him away, he slammed you back into the door with a dull thud. “You don't throw away a good thing Sweetheart.” 

You catch your breath, the hard masculine body crushing against you was all too familiar, and up to his expression that looked like he had won you over. Now you always have a sneer in your smile Ransom, you thought to yourself, thinking you have actual control over me. Your hands planted against his chest, and his gaze darkened as you made him back away from you with resolve. “But wake up, Baby, You’re so totally deluded… I'm throwing away this good thing right now.” Turning away, you were quick to open the door and look over your shoulder. “Don’t bother fucking calling me anymore.” 

With a quick snap out the door, as you walked down the five star hotel hallway, you heard Ransom rip open the door and poke his head out. “Don't worry about me calling you Kitten, not like you are the only lay I can get in this town.” 

You didn't even bother answering as you stepped on the elevator. Your last sight of him was striding towards the elevator doors as they shut, staring back at him coldly as he shouted your name and the doors blocked him from you, now your reflection staring coldly back at you in the steel doors as the elevator brought you to the lobby. 

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

That would be the last time you saw him in a couple years. You ended up losing your job that day, and decided that it wasn't just Ransom you needed to change in your life, but all of it. You put out resumes all over New England and found someone to take over the lease to your apartment. Within a couple months from that night, you were moving out of the city and to a small suburb, house, lawn and everything. You went to work as a legal aide at a small law firm. Dates happened here and there, but you didn't let any of them get close in the way Ransom was. Eventually dating turned into a matter of convenience for you. You settled finally. A lawyer that chased after you for a while, Neil. He made an excellent lover and you two were comfortable, you even loved him in a way. Just like he loved you in a way. He had long hours, and you always traveled. It became a relationship of sorts for you two. 

This evening you sat in the swanky Boston bar, another business trip for the firm, sipping from a second gin and tonic while scanning the room when you saw a sight you never thought you would see again. 

One Ransom Drysdale came in with some slim waisted woman clinging to him, chatting away but you could tell just from the way he scanned the room that he wasn't even paying attention to her. When his gaze fell on you, his brows arched in surprise, but then they darkened and he whispered to his companion. When she split away towards a table, he strode over to you sitting at the bar. 

“Never thought I would see you slumming in this part of town again.” He said slowly while waving the bartender over. “You look good Y/N.” He said in a matter of fact tone, and you raked a gaze over him. In the two years you hadn’t seen him, he barely changed. Still wore the high end clothes, and that camel colored coat that was so soft to the touch, that pinkie ring shone just a bit in the low light. “Another gin and tonic for her to.” in which your drink was switched out with a fresh one. 

“Business Hugh.” You snipped out, catching him scowl at mention of his name. How you got a thrill knowing how much he hated it. “And you don't look bad yourself. Still living that trust fund life, it treats you good.” You thanked the bartender and sipped from the much stronger gin and tonic now, feeling the tendrils of heat curl in your veins from the alcohol. 

“Well I will have you know not entirely a trust fund life now.” He remarked your words back to you while he leaned in closer, his hand sliding along your thigh in that all too familiar way of his. “I took over part of Blood Like Wine just to piss Walt off. But I enjoy it, and have been doing some writing myself with Harlan’s help.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise, tilting your head towards him. “You actually got serious in life? I’m impressed.” 

Ransom shrugged while twirling his glass, the bits of ice clinking in the glass. “Got bored, needed something to do Y/N.” 

You laughed hearing him, and glanced over your shoulder. “Isn’t your date waiting on your Ransom?” 

He looked over his shoulder at the woman he had come in with, shaking his head. “Nah, she will be fine. See, she already is eyeing up someone else.” He stated, watching as his previous date scooted over, letting someone sit in the booth with her. Ransom turned back to you and smirked, settling in comfortably next to you. “Guess we actually get to catch up.” You didn't send him away, in fact you two fell back into easy conversation talking about the past two years. The evening turned to night, and the bartender gave you two the cut off. Before you could excuse yourself to leave, Ransom reached out and caught your wrist to keep you from getting up.

 “Looks like I'm free tonight, what do you say… one more for old times sake?” 

You pondered his offer, the last swallow of gin and tonic was probably that last push as you glanced at your old lover. His eyes showed promise that it would be good, and you knew full well that he had every right to be cocky. Setting your glass down, you nod. 

“Old times sake… but this is it Drysdale.” 

You two escaped the bar, Ransom knowing the streets like the back of his hand. It was like the old days when you two messed around, familiar in the sense you knew that you two would hit the subway. You hated riding in the beamer around the city, and he was well aware of it. Teasing looks and touches were shared on the subway, once in a while a dirty kiss before splitting apart. “Fuck you taste good Kitten.” He muttered your old nickname against your neck as he sucked a mark against your pulse. “So addictive.” You hide a grin in against his shoulder hearing him. 

The thing that ended up surprising you was when Ransom didn't pull you to one of your regular meetup Hotels, but an actual apartment building. “What is this?” You stalled as he hit the numbers in the pad on the side of the building to be let in. 

“I moved into the city. Made more sense then having to travel all the fucking time.” Pulling you into the building and steering you to the elevator, he crowded into you once the doors shut on you two. Your head tilted back to let him skim those lips over your pulse once more and tug your ear between sharp teeth, needy fingers bunching under your sweater, and trailing fire against your skin till his touch turned into a press of fingertips biting into your curves. Your hands fisted in his cashmere sweater, brushing your face against the hard planes of his jawline, sighing in such a needy way, its been so fucking long since you’ve felt this. Felt that physical urge to just get lost in the most primal of ways. 

You two crashed into the apartment, tugging at each others clothes and stumbling into the walls, pushing back and forth till you shoved Ransom hard against the hallway wall, rolling into him with a clash of teeth and hisses when his hand fist in your hair, pulling you away to march you two closer to the bedroom, his enormous body crowding you where he wanted you. “Come on Kitten, remind me how good that mouth was again.” 

You didn't hesitate to drop to your knees on the hardwood floor and your hands twisted in his trousers to tug at the button and zipper, yanking them down his legs till he stepped from them.  “Open.” Ransom demanded while wrapping his hand around his hard cock and jerked it while you looked up at him with a begging expression, you wanted it, him. You tongue fell out to accept his offering. Perhaps you should have felt shame at your desperate actions, at how easily you turned into a whore for Ransom. You had been in a committed relationship with Neil for six months, and here you were breaking it all for a man you sworn yourself from. Ransom was not gentle about taking you apart either, which you had craved his demanding nature the past two years. His cock pressed past your lips into your wet heat, making you widen around him till he hit the back of your throat making you sputter. You tried to pull away instinctively but he held you there for a few seconds till you relaxed. “Thatta girl Kitten.” Ransom praised and his hips started to thrust into your mouth. 

“Fuck I missed seeing you like this.” He grunted as he moved your head back and forth, his hands digging into your scalp and fucked into your mouth. You clenched your thighs underneath yourself, wanting to hide that desire to grind into anything for the friction, completely growing wet with the way he just fucked your mouth how he wanted. You slurped on his cock, hollowing your cheeks to tighten around him, fluttering your tongue against that thick vein while he pressed your mouth to take more, and your nose ended up against the tight dark pubic curls, drool dripped down your chin to leave you ruined looking. 

“Grinding yourself against your thigh Slut, I can see those hips moving.” He yanked you off his cock, your tongue darting to kitten lick the red tip while looking up at him as your hands rubbed up and down his muscular thighs while he jerked himself. Seeing he was close you tipped back further as his hold allowed, whining. 

“Yes I am Ransom, fuck you for making me this way.” You whined out as you shifted your hips, rubbing your cunt as hard as possible against the back of your foreleg, wanting to get that fulfillment. 

He squeezed himself slightly to keep from cumming and dragged you back to your feet, snapping a hand against your ass to get you moving “Then let's take care of that Kitten.”  Your fingers dipped into your waistband of your panties shimming them down while Ransom grabbed palmfuls of your ass and ground his cock between your cheeks. “I got to get inside you…” He panted into the curve of your neck and as soon as you reached the bedroom, he pressed you against the dresser just inside the door. Pulling your ass out and his cock pressed between slick folds, pushing himself into you, both of you sighed in relief at the familiar sensation. You stretched around him till you were full of him, and him feeling you wrapped around him so tight, your cunt seemed to swallow him. 

He took you from behind, rattling the dresser with each pounding thrust, his hands digging permanent marks into your hips in a ruthless way. A way you had missed, hard demanding ruts, banging your hips into the hardwood of the dresser and your hands tried finding purchase against the wood when he angled and found that sweet spot that only he seemed to be able to find. Making you keen his name and he snapped his teeth, clenching his jaw till the tendons of his neck strained with the power he was slamming into you. 

“That was all it took to flood my cock, Kitten, you must be needy.” 

You sagged against the dresser but he wasn't over with you yet, it had been years since he had you with him. Man handling you to the bed, you went to your back and he fell over you. Snapping kisses against the sensitive part of your chest to the tops of your breasts, his hand dragged your bra down, the bands straining and lifting your chest off the bed while you dug your hands into his hair, pulling it hard enough for him to moan into your skin and his teeth sink into the top of your breast. 

“Ransom, no more marks.” You tried to stop him but he muttered something between the curves, drawing a swipe till he got to your nipple, latching on and pulling on it for it to swell. 

“Yea yea, got a boyfriend you can’t let see.” He said in a joking manner as a hand moved underneath you to release your bra, and he shifted your hips to settle underneath him. You slipped your hands along his chest, and curled around his neck, shrugging a shoulder. 

“Perhaps, just don't mark me up.” you snapped, and he smothered you again, lip biting kisses as he thrust into you, your legs wrapping around his slender hips, and pulling him in closer. 

As his hips rocked into you, slower than before dragging himself back and forth, he lifted to his elbows, looking down at you as you bit your lip, pressing your head back. “What's his name?” 

Your eyes spring open as your fingers dig into his back. “W-what Ransom?” 

He pressed forward, pinning you into the mattress while grinding into you. “His fucking name Kitten, what is it?” This time when you look up at him, you can see his mouth set in a thin line, and ground himself into you, making you clench around him. 

“Why does it matter?” your nails loosen slightly and drag down his back. “You never cared before.”  

Ransom then blessed you with that signature smirk, and moved his hand to your throat to tighten, and tighten enough to make you gasp out, the move making you flutter around him. “Because Kitten.” His mouth lowered over yours, teeth sinking into your lip and tongue filling your mouth and stealing the last air from your lungs. “I know you, you will never be satisfied with settling down Y/N. It's not in you. These past two years, have you actually been satisfied like this.” 

“A lot changes in those two years Ransom.” You gasped into his mouth, fighting him back now after his words, working your hips back to meet him with each thrust. “Oh better to be like you? Just fucking around. You’ll end up old and lonely without someone in your life.” Your tongue lapped at the roof of his mouth and your eyes rolled up feeling him splitting you apart. 

“Come on Kitten, you're not telling me you didn't miss this? Us? You are all I have ever needed, you know that.” Ransom demanded, and you shuddered under him, cumming just then, his hand around your neck tightened all that much further while he chased his own ending this time. Pushing you up the bed till you both were buried in the pillows. Soon you felt him paint your walls, burying himself into you till his body crushed yours down into the mattress, your thighs quivering around his waist and you were panting against his shoulder, trying to catch your breath. He lifted his head to look down at you, a brow arched waiting for an answer. “So?” 

Your fingers slid up his back and over his shoulders, staring back up at him, wrinkling your nose at him. “Why do you have to make this anything more then a good one last time fuck?” You pushed on his shoulders to turn him to his back and straddled him, covering his mouth. “Just shut the fuck up, okay?” 

Ransom's teeth sank into your palm, while grasping your hips and lifting you to sink you onto him. 

“Make me Kitten.” he hissed at you in challenge. 

❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕❌⭕

It was early morning when you both were tangled around each other, the sheets pushed off the bed, and you were using Ransom more as your blanket, soaking in that post sex haze that made you all limp. He was half snoring in your hair and you were staring at the ceiling. You closed your eyes with shame and disgust with yourself, since you were going to have to make some lame excuse to Neil about why you didn't answer your phone. As well as why you weren't at your hotel last night. 

“I can hear you thinking” Ransom groaned from above you, and you tilted your head up to see an early morning beard starting to prickle his skin, and you shifted to pull back, giving a bit of space while resettling yourself to face him properly. 

“You asked me last night if there was someone. There is Ransom… we've been dating just about six months. And he’s a good person, a decent man.” 

He rubbed at his face to open his eyes and be able to focus on you, still sleep laced as he spoke once more. “And Y/N? Why are you worried? It's not like we haven’t done this plenty of times, dating someone or not.” 

You worried your lip, sighing with a shake of your head. “That hasn't been me since I moved, I left it all behind when I left Boston. But then you come right back, and I’m stupid enough to fuck around with you again. Am I ever going to get you out of my system?” 

That made him smirk, and lean into you, kissing you dirty so early in the morning. “Now you're making yourself sound like one of those crazy bitches on the ID channel. Should I be worried about you?” 

You snorted against his kiss, pressing him against his chest to make him fall back into his spot in the bed. “If you didn’t get a bullet in your head already after the last time, you should know you're safe.” 

His arm circled around your waist, his thumb sweeping back and forth across the small of your back. “I'm glad I’m forgiven for last time Y/N. And this changes nothing that you do with whatever his name is.” 

You reached forward and let your fingers trail along the planes of his pecs, feeling guilty, but not regretting it, not really. Ransom had always fulfilled something in you that no one else ever was able to. 

“Yea I guess you're forgiven, although it was still a shitty thing to do. Come on, even you have to admit that Ransom. And his name is Neil.” You pushed to hear him admit he was in the wrong, and he rolled his eyes at you, sliding his hand to grasp an ass cheek and squeeze it in his palm.

“Did I just have to say that last time for you to forgive me Kitten? Cause fuck, two years is a long time.” 

You chuckle and shake your head. “No, I fucking hated you back then. I would have still left, I’m just now tolerating you.” You pulled back and moved to sit up at the edge of the bed. “And now I gotta call Neil with some lie about where I was.” 

Ransom moved to the other side, reaching for his boxers to slip on. “Just tell him you met up with an old friend Y/N.” 

You pushed off from the bed and tugged the first shirt you found, Ransom's sweater while leaving the bedroom to talk to Neil. With luck, he didn't answer, and you just left a message to call you back and that you were safe, that you had met up with some old girlfriends. Glancing around, it occurred to you that Ransom really did live here, not just stay here on occasion. There was mail on the counter, books and manuscripts on the coffee table in the living room, and coats hanging near the door, an abandoned dirty coffee mug near the sink. You started to pick up the clothing you two had scattered through the apartment when Ransom came out, watching you for a moment while leaning against the wall. 

“Reach the boyfriend?” He said matter of fact, which you straightened, and glanced back at him while folding some clothes and shaking your head. 

“No, but I should probably get ready to go, I'm supposed to be driving home today.” you pluck at his sweater you're wearing and he strides across the room, his fingers sliding under your chin to lift your gaze back up. 

“You know Kitten we will never really be done with each other.” He said, tilting his head. “Week from now, five years down the road, it doesn't matter when it happens again. So lose the guilt, it's not good for you. It's just the way it is.” 

He was right, you knew he was right and part of you hated him for the fact that he was right. “After all, you don't get anything better than a Thrombey, Kitten.” 

Fuck this man for having this hold on you.

Moodboard Prompt- The City

[free-pancakes]

We know that Hanji is scariest when she's angry..so somehow levi has angered hanji in aot universe..and levi is witnessing the scariest sight of hanji..how he'll handle it..

ahhh anon i got a similar ask before and i just can’t picture levi doing something that angers her that bad, but i can def imagine how he handles an angry hanji so here goes nothingggg:

———-

Hanji sat down in the mess hall for breakfast. She rarely woke up this early when there wasn’t a meeting she had to get to or an expedition at hand, but it was an oddly good morning for her. She happily began to eat as the 100th cadet corps began to flood in to the hall and sat all around her. When she finished, she cleaned up after herself, headed over to the cooks refilling the food put out from the kitchens, and kindly helped them. After a few minutes, she made the turn out of the kitchen and overheard some of the young cadets sitting around and making small talk around the corner.

“Hah yea I can’t believe they just promoted those three idiots. Hanji-san is an absolute nutcase, and that stupid assistant of hers at her side every second, what was his name... Moblit?”

Hange froze holding a tray of food—she took a deep breath. She, Levi, and Erwin all got promoted to their new positions of squad leader, captain, and commander recently. She had to uphold some ounce of professionalism. “Hange don’t be your reckless self,” she breathed out and tried to keep her anger at bay.

“Oh and the new commander. Also crazy if you ask me, looks like he doesn’t care about anyone but his damn self.”

The small voice of another cadet retorted shakily: “Hey, you should probably respect our higher ups! They were put there for a reason and—”

“Petra, shut the hell up.”

“Hey! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?? And hey, come on, they don’t call Captain Levi ‘humanity’s strongest’ for nothing!”

“Pfft Oluo, you and Petra are just a couple of suck-ups.” The young cadet continued, “Don’t even get me started on this so-called ‘humanity’s strongest’. Yeah his titan kill count is impressive but didn’t you hear? He couldn’t even save his two best friends, and they died,” he said with a smirk. “Wait what the—”

Hanji tackles the cadet to the ground, and began punching him at full strength, no holding back.

“YOU DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT IT TOOK TO GET HERE. WE DIDNT ASK FOR ANY OF THIS! IT’S NOT LIKE WE ASKED FOR OUR FRIENDS TO DIE—” Tears welled in her eyes. She couldn’t help but cry when she was that angry. She knew it was something she needed to work on, but she didn’t care right now. This stupid cadet didn’t realize everything that was sacrificed and that the 3 of them were simply lucky to have lived for this long. Idiot.

Petra ran to get help, and Oluo tried to calm Hanji down, accidentally getting punched straight in the face by her in the process.

The young cadet was almost knocked out cold, another punch yielded a tooth flying across the floor. Before she could throw another punch, she felt a gentle hand catch her fist. She struggled against it, her heart still filled with rage at the cadet for saying such things. Levi and Petra successfully restrained her while sustaining a few bruises in the process. Levi threw Hange over his shoulder as she thrashed and yelled. He looked at the mess on the floor, but simply left. Clearly whatever he did or said was pretty bad seeing the damage Hange left—he probably deserved it.

Levi walked while carrying Hanji, who gradually quieted, all he could hear now were her quiet sniffles. It was bad—Hange was never this quiet after a fight. She was always ranting and yelling like crazy whenever something angered her, but she was dead silent. It worried Levi.

He carried her all the way out to the cadet training grounds.

“Hey what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Shut the hell up, Shadis,” Levi muttered coldly and walked right past him without hesitation, leaving the man dumbstruck.

He put Hanji down, and grabbed ODM gear from the small warehouse. He handed a pair to Hanji, who silently began to gear up with a blank stare, tears still falling inadvertently from her eyes. It took a lot for Levi not to just gather her into his arms—he knew what she needed and unfortunately for him, that wasn’t the appropriate move right now. Plus he wasn’t even sure if that was okay, he never really initiated hugs...

They walked out into the clearing in the nearby forest, wooden boards of titan dummies all around them. Levi handed her some blades.

“What now?” Hanji muttered, emotionless.

“Do your thing, Hanji.”

——

Night fell over them, stars the only source of light around them. The two of them sat on the ground, breathless. The titan dummies were basically nothing but kindling on the ground. Shadis would be pissed, but honestly, the thought of that made Levi want to laugh.

“Hey shorty, wanna grab some tea in the break house? I’ll make it taste as bitter as you,” she said with a laugh.

Levi almost smiled—Hanji was back to her normal self, and he was relieved. He was glad he came up with this idea to just physically get her anger out. She was basically like a puppy, just gotta tire her out til she had no energy, nothing left but rest as an option. He wondered what that cadet said to have angered her so badly in the first place.

They entered the break house on the training grounds, and Hanji began to brew some tea.

“Oi Hanji, what happened anyway?”

Hanji hesitated for a second, the words of that stupid cadet swirling around in her brain. There was a lot that he said that sent her fuming, but really... his unfair comment about Levi was the last straw. It awoke something within her and to be honest, she didn’t remember much of what happened after that—just blind rage, really.

She turned towards Levi, her eyes soft as she looked him up and down. He looked questioningly at her.

“Oh just throwing some insults, and he was rude to that sweet cadet, Petra was it? And her friend,” she lied. “Hah, Erwin is gonna rip me a new one tomorrow, it’s not my fault someone angered me the day after our promotion...” she said with a small laugh. Levi could tell she was lying, but he held his tongue. If she didn’t want to share, that was okay with him.

She finished pouring the cup of tea for Levi, and sat down at the table next to him.

Levi took a sip, and decided to bite the bullet—“Hey Hanji, um... would you uh... hm. Did you need a hug or something uh I know that you were really upset and maybe... it could help—”

A soft snore interrupted him. Hanji fell asleep right at the table, her head bobbing as she tried to balance it on her hand. “Oh thank God she didn’t hear any of that,” he thought to himself. He was too emotionally constipated and awkward for his own good. He swept her into his arms and entered the small quarters in the house. He laid her down on one of the beds, and pulled up a chair next to it. He gently slid off her glasses and pulled a blanket over her. He planted a small kiss on her forehead, and her lips seemed to curl into a small smile in her sleep. Levi let himself smile—no one was around anyway. He sat watching over her, making sure she got to rest uninterrupted.

[flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash]

Irresistible Danger - Part 53

Synopsis:  After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,327

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

ID Masterlist can be found HERE

Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: The title for this chapter will make more sense once you read it (as will the gif choice), and I am SO excited for y’all to read this one *smirks*

A Ship Has Sailed 

By the time the Sanctuary appeared through the trees, an orange halo had formed where the sun was edging towards the horizon. In another hour that orange would be joined with pink, and they would take over all of the remaining blue before being consumed by the black of night. The lighting gave the large building a bit of a glow, but it also accentuated shadows and dark corners, making them appear longer. 

It served as a metaphorical reminder of whatever was happening between you and Negan. There had been a warm glow inside of you for the past 24 hours, since the resolution of the pregnancy test argument, and you wanted nothing more than to bask in the beauty of it. However, there were also still shadows and dark corners, parts that you were ignoring or straight up avoiding. You knew they wouldn’t go away on their own, no matter how wonderful the glow, and only you and Negan could confront those shadows together. The question was if confronting them would make them disappear...or cause them to grow until they completely overtook that glow, like a cloudy night with no stars. 

Your subconscious pulled out a large stick and began popping the intrusive thought bubbles, wanting no part of this damper on what had been a wonderful day. Agreeing for the moment, you tabled the thoughts, attention instead focusing on the upcoming front gate. There was a different guard on duty than when you left, due to the 6pm shift change that allowed both day and night guards the opportunity to attend dinner. But that wasn’t what had your attention; no, what you were fixated on was the fact that, despite being only a few feet away from said gate, Negan was still holding your hand. 

The guard’s eyes were watching as you approached, so to pull away now would be even more obvious. Instead, you tried not to appear as though every muscle in your body was tensed with uncertainty as the gate swung open and you walked past. Negan only gave a slight nod of acknowledgement to the guard, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. 

Sliding the guard a look out of the corner of your eye, you saw with a start that he was looking right back at you. Eyes darting forward, you tried to copy Negan’s aloof demeanor and not look as though it was taking all of your mental energy to remember how to walk like a normal human being and not trip over air. Nothing to see here, my guy. Just a typical evening stroll with your volatile and totally-not-holding-my-hand-as-if-we’re-a-couple leader. 

Negan only let go of your hand when reaching the front door of the Sanctuary, so that he could pull open the heavy metal. He then stood back, arm braced at shoulder level to hold the door, and it took a good ten seconds of you awkwardly standing there to realize that he was waiting for you to go in first. Holy crap, Negan was being chivalrous, and in public! Your subconscious squealed at the gesture and darted inside, while your brain tipped its hat to him in thanks before also walking in. Still a bit stunned over what was now two blatantly affectionate gestures in front of anyone who happened to be watching, you silently ducked under his arm and entered the building. 

Adding to your shock, once he had followed you inside and shut the door, he put a palm on your lower back to guide you down the hallway. The heat from his hand practically singed the thin fabric of your shirt with its silent possession, and it was so distracting that you almost missed it when he started making the turn to the stairwell that would lead back to his room. You felt a surge of relief that he wasn’t just sending you back to your own room after the cold shoulder moment in the woods, and some of the ice shards that had earlier formed around your heart as protection started to thaw. 

“Hold on,” you said, putting a gentle hand on his forearm. When he looked down in question, you added, “Ben said he’d leave us some dinner leftovers in the kitchen’s fridge.”

You were glad that he didn’t make a smartass quip at the mention of Ben, instead silently turning with you down a different hallway that led to the kitchen, his warm hand still present. You tensed a bit when passing a few community members in the hall, but if they noticed his touch, they didn’t show it. Instead, they were too busy dropping to their knees and lowering their heads in greeting. Your subconscious loved this, strutting past as if a royal before its subjects. Negan barely acknowledged them, while you felt distinctly uncomfortable and hoped to never become desensitized to such an unsettling sight.

Arriving at the cafeteria, you entered the large empty space, which was dimly lit due to the fading evening light coming in from the windows. Passing the rows of tables and pushing open the swinging doors to the kitchen, you were surprised to see that, unlike in the cafeteria, the overhead lights were still on in here. Since the dish washers were usually the last to leave, you assumed they had forgotten to flick off the lights on their way out. You’d make sure to have a discussion with them tomorrow, since it was important not to waste precious electricity here. Negan and his engineering team might have a fancy setup going on that allowed such luxuries as working lights, but that didn’t mean it was okay to abuse the privilege.

Crossing the tiled floor to the fridge, you had just opened the door and pulled out two small plastic containers of leftover tuna noodle casserole when there was a distinct and sudden thump. Whirling around, you glanced over at Negan, even though it was obvious he hadn’t made the noise. His gaze was fixed on the entrance to the pantry, which was located at the back of the kitchen. It was apparent the sound had come from that direction, and it was too loud to have been caused by a rodent or a box falling over. No, it had definitely been more of a human-sized thump. Since no one was supposed to be in the kitchen after-hours, the thought of an intruder made a lump of fear rise in your throat.

Negan’s gloved hands were now both wrapped around Lucille, and she hovered a few inches off his shoulder in the locked-and-loaded position as he confidently yet stealthily started across the kitchen. You followed a couple of feet behind, ready to throw the leftover casserole at any potential thief or walkers as a distraction so that Negan could beat them to death, if needed. You also still clutched Ricardo in your other hand, if the leftovers-to-the-face and Lucille-for-dessert plan wasn’t enough. You tensed for action when Negan’s own hands tightened on the bat and he stepped into the pantry’s entryway. 

“Don’t fucking move,” he growled in a voice so deadly that it would’ve caused bladder complications if you were on the receiving end of it.

A clatter of cans and a muffled, “Shit!” came from the pantry. You saw Negan’s eyes go wide in shock, his mouth even dropping slightly open as the hands on Lucille relaxed and lowered. Now curious as hell, you came up behind him, standing on tiptoes and peeking over his shoulder for a view into the pantry. The sight that met your eyes almost made you drop both Ricardo and the food. 

The first thing you registered was the tall, broad man who was quickly pulling his shirt down over his head to cover a well-muscled, not to mention well-furred, chest. Your brain recognized that it was Simon and was wondering what the hell he was doing undressing in the pantry, when movement behind him caught your attention. The second, slightly shorter figure was running nervous fingers through his disheveled hair and looked about to vomit with fear at being caught. Then his eyes traveled over Negan’s shoulder and saw you were also standing there, and a flash of relief came across his face.

Since it was obvious there was no actual threat to your safety, you came up beside Negan and cleared your throat awkwardly before saying, “Hiya, Ben. Fancy seeing you here this late.”

His face was so flushed that it was a wonder steam wasn’t coming off his skin, but he played along with your attempt to diffuse the situation. His voice came out quiet and croaky when he said, “Yea, uh, must’ve lost track of time.” 

You wanted to rush forward with a squeal and give him a reassuring hug and high five for what had obviously been a hot and heavy make-out session with the man he’d been hardcore crushing on. However, you also realized that this situation could go downhill very quickly, depending on how Negan reacted to the revelation. There was also the uncertainty about how Simon would handle this, since you had no clue how open about his sexual interests he might or might not be. 

That latter question was quickly answered when Simon put a proprietary arm around Ben’s waist, looked at Negan with a huge, good ol’ boy grin, and said, “Apologies for the lack of professional conduct. I dropped by to see how the dinner clean-up was going and, well, you know how one thing can lead to another.”

He said the last with a bit of a glint in his eye, as if daring Negan to deny that yes, he did indeed know how one thing could lead to another, including here in this very kitchen. At least Simon and Ben had been smart enough to conceal themselves in the pantry, rather than fuck right on the counter for all to see, the way you and Negan had just a couple nights ago. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be on fucking duty somewhere?” Negan asked, voice low and full of threat. If Simon was currently leaving a guard post unattended, you knew he was in for a world of hurt. 

However, instead of looking worried, the mustachioed grin got even wider as he joyfully said, “Nope! I switched out with Luis at 6, so my evening is free as a bird.”

You had to give the man credit for appearing so relaxed and carefree, especially with a boss who could literally remove his head with a hefty swing standing semi-pissed in front of him. You weren’t sure if Simon was just that confident, or if he was that unhinged. You hoped, for Ben’s sake, that it was the former. 

Negan unflinchingly stared Simon down for a couple of long seconds, until the other man quickly lost the grin and dutifully lowered his gaze to the floor. A glance at Ben showed he was wringing his hands together nervously and also staring down at the ground, as if hoping it would open up and swallow him whole.

Satisfied at the other men’s show of deference, Negan finally growled out, “The fuck is it with all my fucking Saviors sneaking around at night to fuck the fucking kitchen staff.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and marched back across the kitchen, towards the exit. Giving one last (and hopefully reassuring) look at a still-frozen-in-worry Ben, you scurried after him, stopping briefly at the cupboards to grab two forks and cups. When he reached the swinging doors and held them open for you to exit first, he threw sternly back over his shoulder, “You better fucking disinfect any surfaces you fucking desecrated.”

He belied his terse tone by throwing a wink and smirk in your direction, though Simon and Ben obviously wouldn’t be able to see it. Hoping that his nonverbals were a more telling predictor of how he felt about all of this than his verbals had been, you both crossed and exited the cafeteria, before starting the trek up to his private rooms. 

You passed a few more community members in the halls, but if they found the sight of you and their leader walking together strange, you were too consumed with what had just happened in the kitchen to notice or care. It was obvious that Negan also had no fucks to give about being seen with you, since he twirled Lucille and whistled in that playful yet threatening way that only he could pull off.

When you reached his rooms, he led the way into his bedroom and over to the little black table with two white armchairs. Setting down the containers and forks on the table, and propping Ricardo up against the nearby armoire, you went into the bathroom to fill the two glasses in the sink. It was only when you had returned and settled into the chair to eat that you realized your mistake.

“Shit,” you blurted, earning an eyebrow raise from the man already shoveling the first forkful of casserole into his mouth. “We didn’t heat it up.”

Giving an uncaring shrug, he said around the mouthful, “It’s tuna and noodles. Tastes fucking fine cold.” 

Taking a tentative bite, you found that he was correct. Sure, it wasn’t as gooey and creamy as when warm, but the flavor was still pretty darn good, so you forgave your lack of foresight in the face of processing the Ben and Simon situation.

The two of you ate in companionable silence, and you wondered if Negan’s thoughts were as preoccupied with the events in the kitchen as yours were. Thankfully, you didn’t have to wait long to learn that the answer was yes, Negan was definitely thinking about it. Out of nowhere, he let out a loud bark of laughter, causing you to jump and almost choke on the noodle you had been chewing. 

At your questioning look, he said, “I’m just remembering the fucking priceless look on ol’ Benny Boy’s face when he saw me standing in that fucking entryway.”

Hoping that his humorous response was a positive thing, and that Ben wasn’t further on Negan’s shit list, you questioned, “So you’re not upset about him messing around with one of your most devoted Saviors?”

Giving a quick shake of his head, he stabbed more noodles with his fork. “Fuck no. Simon deserves a bit of fucking fun.”

“What if it’s more than just fun to them?” 

You couldn’t help the question, trying to figure out just how okay with all of this Negan really was. You knew that it wasn’t only the fact that Ben had been caught in such a compromising and unprofessional position, but also that he had been caught with another man that could make this a potentially unsafe situation for him. Ben had always seemed to keep his interest in both men and women fairly quiet, which was his right to do so. If Negan showed any hint of discrimination, or gave any inclination that he would out Ben to the community, then you wouldn’t hesitate to rain holy hell down on him. 

Instead, Negan’s unexpected response was, “Well then, if it’s the real deal, I’ll throw them a fucking congratulations party.” 

Unable to hide your look of pleasant surprise, he said, “What? People deserve to find some fucking happiness where they can in this dreary-as-shit world we’re livin’ in. So long as they continue to get their fucking duties done, and follow my fucking rules, I don’t give a shit who they play ‘hide the salami’ with.”

You were a bit stunned at his progressive and open-minded thinking, and it only caused you to warm towards him even more. It also made you want to stop being so quick to see the worst in him, and the worst in yourself for liking him so much. Pushing that self-doubt from earlier in the woods even further to the back of your head, your subconscious jammed it down into a metal box so your brain could click it shut with a padlock. There it would stay, along with all the other questions still left unanswered between you and Negan, until you felt more ready to open it up and deal with them.

Finishing the last bite of casserole and feeling pleasantly full, you then registered that another basic need wasn’t being met: cleanliness. You felt a bit grimy from being out in the woods, not to mention the layer of dried sweat on your skin from both wandering around a hot forest and engaging in some extra-strenuous activities with Negan. 

“Is it alright if I use your shower?”

You swore Negan’s eyes darkened a shade at that, and his voice sounded a bit lower than usual when he answered. “What’s mine is yours, doll.”

Wow. Pretty sure your subconscious had just slithered to the floor in a pile of goo at the promise in both the words and his tone. 

Rising on now-wobbly legs from the chair, you started towards the bathroom. Before you could overanalyze or second-guess the decision to death, you whipped the shirt up over your head and tossed it to the floor. Glancing back over your shoulder at him, you gave a playful grin and unhooked your bra while saying, “Care to join me?”

He was up out of the chair before the words even fully left your lips, and you had barely made it across the threshold of the bathroom before he was on you. Arms snagging around your waist, he turned you into him and crashed his lips down on yours.

The bathroom became littered with clothes as you hurriedly pulled them off each other before stumbling back into his massive shower. You abruptly yelped when he first turned on the water, the temperature borderline freezing as it pelted down on your bare back. He gave a husky chuckle and reached over to adjust the knobs, and you sighed in satisfaction when the stream heated up against your chilled flesh. 

Trailing greedy hands across his warm skin, you followed the path of a water droplet down his chest while thinking back to the various times you had fantasized about this very moment, about him naked and wet and yours. When he bent down for a kiss, you swore he poured not just his desire but also, dare you say it, his emotions into the kiss. You had felt these tiny hints of vulnerability he was trying to share with you throughout the entire day, ever since waking up in your bed this morning. He was trying to show that although he was terrifyingly deadly and intimidating as fuck with everyone else, he could be caring and gentle with you. 

And how had you reacted? By shutting down and questioning his motives. There was a part of you that still refused to fully believe this would last, but maybe it was time to start enjoying it while you could, and not think too much about tomorrow. Suddenly, you wanted to reciprocate, to show that you had noticed how hard he had been trying to connect. And while maybe words would work, you and Negan’s communication skills had always been more about nonverbals and actions. 

Pulling back from the kiss and visually drinking him in, you were caught off guard for the millionth time by how god damn attractive he was. His hair was damp from the spray, and you wanted to lick the water droplets clinging to his neck and shoulders. However, you had another destination in mind, one that you had yet to explore but didn’t want to leave unattended any longer.

Looking up into his tawny eyes, you gave a sly smile and whispered, “Just so you know, this is the only reason I will ever kneel for you.”

Then, with gazes still locked, you fell to your knees on the wet tile...and took his cock in your mouth.

~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~  ~

[razorblade180]

Weapon Banner shenanigans

Aether: *holding bag* You ready?

Eula:Yea. I’ve never been apart of a wish sequence. I’m curious on how this may go. Though I am home already, you still want to pull?

Aether:I never pull for weapons but this a rare time that it seems like a good idea. Let’s see if we can have a little luck for you. *wishes*

Gold meteorite

Eula:That was fa-

Out of nowhere, the many archers on Aether’s side came running towards him, all exited. Out from the meteor came a Skyward Harp floating before them.

Amber:Now I hate to pull rank-

Diona:You do not need it!!! You are fully maxed out. Let me get this one!

Fischl:*breaking character* I am on Eula’s team! She may not have her weapon but I promise I will use this to carry her through thick and thin Aether!! I’ll give Windblume to Diona!

Diona:I don’t want that!

Amber:All I’m saying is watch me work.

Aether:All of you calm down! I-

Ganyu:*holds it* Aether...

Aether:.....

Ganyu:*smiles* You give this to me and I will strike down foes alone. I will fight along side Amber matched in a devastating melt tag team. Fischl will support Eula with my Stringless, and you hardly have Diona do anything.

Diona:WHY AM I THE ONLY NEGATIVE!?

Fischl:You get my bow.

Eula:I’ll recommend you.

Diona:.....Just give her the stupid bow. *mumbles* I was the first cryo archer. That should mean something.

Aether:I gues Ganyu gets it.

Ganyu:I will not let you down. (HELL YEAH!)

Amber:Aw man. I wanted to be stronger.

Ganyu:For what!? Are you planning on fighting an Archon. You headshot for 30k sweetie.

Amber:Yeah, but power....

Aether:I’ve created a monster. Anyways I’d like to get back to pulling.

All the archers waved goodbye and ran off. Except Diona. Amber carried the pouty one away.

Eula:That was...exciting. It’s like the smelled the weapon.

Aether:*spamming wishes* I know right? I guess it’s instinct. Fortunately I have enough gems for another gold one. Hopefully Xinyan or Beidou don’t try to go feral.

Gold meteorite

Eula:Hmm I’m not getting that exciting feeling.

Aether:....*reaching up* I think...I just might’ve-

Before the prize could even land, a gust of wind blasted by them and to the landing zone. There, Jean stood with her arm raised and catching Aquila Favonia. It was only seconds later swordsman like Kaeya and Keqing came by while Xingqui had known better to even try to grab such a weapon. Him, Bennett and, Qiqi were grabbing all the four star blades to discuss negotiations.

Keqing:Darn! How’d you out speed me!?

Jean:My blade, literally.

Kaeya:Alas, I’m given nothing.

Jean:Qiqi, catch. *throws The Flute*

Qiqi:*wide eyed* I will remember this kindness.

Jean:Now give the prototype to Kaeya. Bennett gets every sword left over to choose from that isn’t sacrificial or favonius. Is everyone happy?

Xingqui:Yes!!!

Kaeya:Very!

Bennett:*crying happily*

Aether:Thank you Jean.

Keqing:I got nothing!

Aether:*whispers* You’re getting a crown*

Keqing:....I guess I’ll draw the bad hand today. Oh well. Black Sword does wonders anyways.

All the swordsman except Jean leave.

Jean:I’m surprised Albedo didn’t show.

Aether:Festering Desire.

Jean:Ah. *looks at Eula*

Eula:You stole pity meant for me. I’m left with nothing new.

Jean:And that is why you never show to this banner expecting something. That’s luck for ya. Don’t worry, I will cover you in the abyss. *walks away*

Eula:She says she doesn’t care about clan bloodline and yet I feel personally attacked. I’ll get her for this.

Aether:(Maybe I should stick to character banners from now on?)

[whatisgoingonpaul]

Headcannon hours

They’re both important and random I just wanted to make a few, some of these connect to my backstory post.

Which you can read here: this is my personal idea of the boys backstories. It does kinda end at the prequel so up to 1906:

David-

He is 19. (Born in 1887)

His last name is Hardy

I’ve mentioned this a lot before but he does not drink. He didn’t when he was alive and still doesn’t as a vampire. So it’s water or sodas for him, he personally likes Coke the best.

Low key advocating for them to put coke back in coke

David only does Weed on occasion, he is more straight up  cigarettes

When he was alive he was mildly Blue-Green colorblind. However like a lot of things it fixes itself bit when your a vampire and to say David went wild is a understatement.

He is a absolute sucker for westerns. Favorite movies no competition.

Holds a great deal of admiration for Billy the kid, Bonnie and Clyde , that kind of folk hero. Especially cause he semi lived though it .

Wildly into the “this famous person didn’t die they’re hiding” conspiracy’s

Half of his stuff is a act he’s a secret softie at times, however vampires kinda develop this weird sense of emotions, their cruel without even trying? Like he thinks he’s flirting. Maggots

You could punch him across the face and he’d say something stupid like ‘take me to dinner first’ never insult him. You’ll either be dead or he’ll think your flirting

Really bad history with love, he’s semi bitter about it and steers clear but is a total romantic

Has had a fling with marko in the past. It’s complicated.

The ballroom of the hotel is pretty Intact, that is HIS room. No one else even tries, some nights he’ll just curl up in there alone. Just thinking. He shuts the door and stays there, no ones really sure what he does but it’s a comfort for him, a comfort and a bitter reminder all at once. He never really got over her you know. (This was first brought up by someone else but I love it so ducking much)

Marko-

He is 20 (born 1886)

His last name is Connelly

The ‘Murder capital of the world’ is his work, so is a lot of the inside of the Hotel.

Crow marko crow marko crow marko. He likes shiny things, whatever he finds on the ground and takes interest in he’ll keep, he will randomly hand you something. It’s either a sign of affection on a threat. You become a quick guesser around him

He likes small animals, he relates to them. You would think they would fear him as most animals seam to have this extremely negative/fearful reaction around vampires but he works on it slowly. Currently it’s 3 pigeons , a bat and a opossum that comes and goes.

He knows how he looks. He knows about his soft features and statue like appearance, he knows to well. He FUCKING DESPISES being babied or being catered to and treated like a child or someone with a lot of money. He hates it. Don’t even try it he will bite your hand clean off.

However, he uses it to his advantage, with the natural looks and the sort of Glamor vampires have. It makes a lot of things super easy, kill , pickpocket etc. When he was alive he also pulled this sort of trick, though he still absolutely despised it and almost always ended with his knife at someone’s neck all wigged out

Protective, extremely protective. Loyal. He gets attached super easily.

He can go off on his own on occasion unlike the others.

He did have a fling with David, he was young and stary eyed, here comes this cool good looking guy helping him out. Stuff happens. Now he it’s done, it’s over with and he has Paul for one thing. However he does more of a second / does whatever he wants sort of deal

Started dating Paul in the 1910s however they were always flirty and touchy that the others were not shocked at all when they started with the ‘official’ title sort of thing.

Only person who can calm him down is Paul, on occasion David

He likes to throw his voice, to play around and make voices at random points. Like he’ll make impressions or have a random British accent at times.

Once dressed in drag to bust Paul out of jail, it was completely unessisary , so was shaving (it’s called detail) it was mainly to mess around in the skirt. Literally no one stopped him and they probably should have

Paul-

He is 18 (born 1888)

Last name is Campbell

No thoughts only movement

There is never a point where he is not moving around of figiting or humming

He is the embodiment of a Puppy, all play all the time always excited and typically cheerful. If you get him upset? What the hell did you do.

Slight bit of a weed and substance problem. It does not help that he can’t die from it.

T o u c h y , he doesn’t pay attention and there’s not a real difference on in public or not

He his this goofy sort of laugh half between a hyena and half between a yuppie

Doesn’t say dude all that much. Says Man and Bud a WHOLE lot more

Either to brave or to stupid to have fear

He is a lot smarter then anyone gives him credit for, he has a poor time keeping his attention that’s it.

Major flirt. He’s a natural at it and he also likes the reaction it gets from marko

Dwayne-

He is 22 (born 1884)

Last name is Maher

Jokes way more then Paul. He and Marko have a liking more towards making everything a game where as Paul will do something dangerous because it is dangerous.

Can skate and likes it, it’s such a simple thing and yet it’s so fun? It baffles him and he loves it. Takes it seriously too, that’s why he changed his boots out with some converse

He is the second dad to jasper the 7th (Markos current pigeon) for obvious reasons

Awkward, he makes it a point to look extremely cool and intimidating so he doesn’t actually have to talk to new people, if he does it’s mainly random hand gestures and ‘haha.., yea’

Literally not even close to mature he just knows go logically be careful with a small child

His hair is naturally that perfect. The other boys are super jealous

Not much of a talker , when he does it’s usually whispered or under his breath to the other boys

Slight thing for star ??? 

I have a bunch these are just a few, none of these are for something Spesific . Just what I could think of at the momment

[angstyaches]

This is trope anon from before :) It might be interesting to see Elliot put off feeling sick, because he is so caught up taking care of everyone else? He kind of strikes me as a worry about everyone else first kind of guy lol. Then absolutely regretting it later haha

If not Elliot, Ryan also kind of gives me similar vibes

CW: mention of disordered eating/malnourishment, trauma mention, overwork, nausea, emeto, dizziness, blood mention (he’s a vamp, so yeah), pining (for absent partner), platonic/brotherly caretaking

Author’s note: Elliott and Felix are going to be just FINE! They’re not even broken up; Felix is just a little AWOL after a fight they had. I just loooove me some angst.

Elliott’s vision went pitch black for a moment as he stood and waited for the kettle to finish boiling. His stomach lurched so harshly that he almost turned towards the sink, expecting the return of the blood he’d drank for breakfast. Instead, he swallowed, closed his eyes, and breathed in slowly through his nose. He was overexerted, probably. He’d been pushing himself during his and Shayne’s ritualistic “sparring” (or, as Shayne called it, “trying to kick the shit out of each other” or “therapy”) session. Elliott had hoped his supernatural abilities would have begun to manifest by now, seeing as his transition to full vampire was complete. But still, nothing yet. Maybe the stress of Felix being gone was stunting his development. Maybe the stress was adding to how bad he felt.

The kettle clicked, reminding him of why he was standing in the kitchen in the first place. Elliott’s heart sank as he recalled Shayne’s eyes rolling back in his head, his body almost hitting the ground before Elliott could catch him. Turned out the kid had been starving himself again. Elliott would have punched his lights out if they hadn’t already basically been out.

A minute later, Elliott picked up a hot mug and crossed the open-plan kitchen and living area to where he’d left Shayne on the white sofa. He was conscious now, at least, but his eyes were glazed and unfocused.

The mug contained hot, weak tea and a few spoons of the glucose solution Ryan had concocted for Felix’s blood-and-sugar lollipops. Back in the day, when Felix refused blood and couldn’t hold food down, Ryan had fed him the solution like this, and it had kept him from passing out. The smell was so strong that Elliott almost gagged, his body so delicate as to protest merely being in the presence of human sustenance.

Elliott tried to hand Shayne the mug, but his cousin’s hands were so shaky he almost dropped it immediately. Elliott took it back, trying to ignore the fact that his own hands weren’t exactly the steadiest. He brought the rim of the mug to Shayne’s lips.

Shayne made a face and pulled away as soon as he took the first sip. His hand went to his mouth, like he was considering spitting it back out.

“Swallow it.”

A shiver seemed to roll through Shayne’s body as he did. His eyes watered like he was about to cry. “That tastes like shit, El.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what you get for forgetting that you need to eat.”

“I didn’t forget I needed to…” Shayne mumbled. “I’m not stupid.”

“That’s extremely debatable. Drink.”

“I’m gonna be sick.”

“Drink,” Elliott said again, as calmly as he could, “or I’m going to get Ryan.”

The last of the fight went out of Shayne’s eyes. Elliott knew he didn’t want Ryan or Nancy to know things had gotten this bad again.

Victorious but not feeling it, Elliott brought the mug to Shayne’s lips again and again, letting him take small sips. At one point, he covered his mouth again, shoulders jerking forward as he gagged slightly. Elliott’s stomach flipped at the sound and he had to turn his face away until Shayne stopped. He didn’t usually puke from seeing somebody else do it, but he had a bad feeling that if Shayne threw up, he would lose it too.

Shayne shook his head when presented with the mug again. A tentative hand rested on his stomach. “I can’t, El. It’s so heavy.”

Part of Elliott didn’t want to yield so easily, wanted to make him finish the mug. He wondered what Felix would do, or how Charlie would have reacted to that pleading look. Elliott knew he wasn’t soft in the same way they were. He just hoped he wasn’t harsh.

He hoped he wasn’t frightening.

He swallowed against a swell of nausea in his belly. Whatever was gnawing at the pit of his stomach weakened his resolve.

“Okay,” he said, “lie down.”

Shayne gave a small sigh of relief.

Elliott took the mug back to the sink. White floor and wall tiles swayed all around him like he was inside the world’s most colourless kaleidoscope. He slowly breathed in through his nose, leaning on the edge of the countertop to try and introduce some form of balance to his body.

He’d extended the offer to Shayne, but honestly, lying down sounded like an absolute dream to Elliott, too. Maybe his body would stop freaking out if he got a little more rest. His sleeping pattern was completely thrown off, his mind raced in the middle of the night. Felix had star-fished across about forty different mattresses before choosing theirs, and while Elliott had acted like he didn’t care which one they bought, he had ended up agreeing that it was the best mattress he’d ever used. But sleeping there without Felix felt wrong, so his body had been rejecting it as much as physically possible.

Nowadays, he might as well have been sleeping in a wooden coffin like the stereotype dictated.

He turned around to check on Shayne, frowning when he saw that he was still sitting upright on the sofa.

“I thought you were going to try and sleep?”

“I can’t – I can’t,” Shayne whispered, lowering his head into his hands. “El, I – every time I try, I feel like she’s here. Breathing on the back of my neck…”

Guilt churned Elliott’s stomach this time. Elliott felt regrets like cobwebs sticking to his soul, and although he didn’t allow himself many, one of those cobwebs was the feeling that maybe he could have gotten Shayne out of Madelyn’s sooner.

“She’s not getting in here,” Elliott promised. “Ryan will have her head on a stick before letting that happen. Nancy will turn her blood into tar.”

“She doesn’t have to be here, El. She’s already here.” Shayne pressed a finger to either side of his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Jesus, I’m – I’m sorry, man.” Elliott laid a hand on his stomach, stifling a belch since he really didn’t need gas leaving his body to make this moment even more stressful. “What usually helps when this happens?”

As Elliot should have expected, Shayne gave a lifeless shrug. Alright, think, Elliott told himself, swallowing thickly. He’d never seen Shayne warm up to anyone until that day in the park when he’d been clinging to Charlie like his life depended on it. He liked to act tough (and who did he pick that up from, I wonder?), but really, Shayne just didn’t want to be alone.

He’d be lying if he said he couldn’t understand that feeling.

Elliott swallowed again, fighting the lump in his throat and the swirling in the pit of his stomach.

“Want me to sit with you?”

Shayne opened his eyes, looking genuinely surprised.

Elliott sank down on the sofa without waiting for a verbal answer. He hit the cushions a little too quickly for his stomach’s liking. It shifted noisily, semi-digested contents swimming around inside. “Now, if you think you can feel someone breathing on you, you can tell yourself it’s just me.”

“Ugh,” Shayne groaned, curling up on his side so that the top of his head was just next to – scarcely touching – Elliott’s thigh. “Do not breathe on me, man.”

Elliott smiled through his vaguely-concealed discomfort, glad that Shayne wasn’t facing him. “Afraid you’ll catch vampire cooties?”

Shayne didn’t respond beyond a soft groan that Elliott interpreted as “shut the fuck up, old man”. So even though he’d have loved to keep taunting his cousin and keep himself distracted, Elliott shut up, letting his neck rest against the back of the sofa and draping one arm up over his eyes. Lack of vision made the world feel a little less like the spinning drum of a washing machine. Elliott regretted dreaming up that metaphor, gritting his teeth as he realised his stomach felt like such a drum, too.

He was swallowing constantly, every few seconds now, chest tight with the effort of drawing slow, shallow breaths. It felt like the fibres holding his being together were frayed and left just shaky enough to throw everything off without causing him any actual, physical pain. Beneath it all was a tiny flame of anger; what the hell was the point in becoming a vampire if feeling unexplainably shitty at inconvenient intervals was still on the table?

An icy shiver ran down Elliott’s back, and he flinched where he sat. He slid his hand around the back of his neck and gulped another wave of saliva. Nothing was there, yet when he exhaled, he shuddered again. Shayne’s talk about Madelyn must have wormed its way into Elliott’s mind. Lord, he really was a mess.

He glanced down to make sure his sudden jump hadn’t disturbed Shayne. It was hard to tell if the boy was sleeping or just trying very hard to stay still. At least he didn’t seem to be panicked or shaking anymore. Elliott desperately wanted to stand up and walk around; moving and distracting himself would surely ease the building pain in his stomach, but he didn’t think he could get up without jostling Shayne.

Sucking in a breath and trying to brace his stomach for the move, Elliott shifted his weight on the sofa, cringing at how much the cushions flexed with him. He watched Shayne’s head, his breath still caught somewhere between his belly and his lungs. Another trickle of unpleasantly cool sweat ran down the back of his neck and his hands shook until he dropped the weight of his head into them. His elbows felt unbalanced on his knees. His stomach flipped, and he swallowed measuredly against its protests.

“El?”

“Yeah,” Elliott choked out, though he’d meant to give a friendly, open yeah? As in Felix’s chirpy Yeah, buddy? Are you okay? What can I do for you?

“Y’alright?” was all Shayne replied with.

“I’m good, yeah.” Upon tasting blood and bile, Elliott gulped again. “Just relax, okay? No one’s going to –”

Elliott jammed a fist against his lips in time to stifle a wet, shallow belch. The sound was so sudden and violent that his head shot forward, almost ducking between his own knees.

“Fuck,” Shayne gasped, scrambling upright despite the fact his eyes were barely open. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Elliott half-snapped, annoyance at himself manifesting as annoyance at Shayne. “I may have pushed myself a bit this morning, but I’m –”

He was once again cut off by a belch, this one rumbling up from much deeper inside him. His belly continued bubbling even after the air stopped being pushed up.

“El, I think you need to –”

“Don’t.” Elliott shook his head.

“Why did –” Shayne winced slightly and rubbed at his head. “Why didn’t you say you were feeling sick?”

“Because I was trying to look after you!” Elliott sighed into his hands. The tiny burst of frustration was dizzying on top of everything else. “Lord fucking knows you can’t take care of yourself.”

“Fuck you,” Shayne said back, though his voice was empty of any of its usual fight. “I’m – I’m trying, I’ve been trying… Elliott, just go to the sink!”

Elliott’s shoulders rolled as he covered his mouth with his palm, feeling a thick film grow over his tongue. He was tempted to swallow it down again but a cramp ripped through his gut, making all of his organs squeeze in defiance of him swallowing anything.

“Shit,” he somehow mumbled, sitting forward and pushing himself to his feet as Shayne pushed – weakly but with good intentions – at his back to help him up. Elliott sprinted across the kitchen tiles and flung himself at the sink, stars in his vision and blood in his mouth. He was unbearably dizzy as he heaved up what he’d drank that morning. At least it had been an animal-blood day, and he wasn’t watching mouthfuls of human blood pooling in the sink and trickling into the drain.

It was a waste, but it could have been worse. He choked on a sob, realising he’d never thought like this until Felix.

“Fuck,” Elliott gasped when something moved next to him. He hadn’t even noticed Shayne following him to the sink. “Christ. I feel awful… Why – why do I feel this bad?”

“You’re trying to force something you’re not capable of.” Shayne folded his arms and rested them on the countertop, eyes falling shut again.

Elliott spat bitterly towards the drain. “How the fuck do you figure that?”

“Because that’s my whole life summed up, El.”

Elliott gripped the neck of the tap and turned it on, directing the water around the sink to get rid of the mess he’d made. His head was spinning and his nerves still felt alive with electricity and just wrong in general, but his belly felt a lot better. He felt like he could breathe normally again.

“You okay?”

“I think so.” Elliott rinsed his mouth, running tap water into his palm and lifting it to his lips. It was cool, and soothing on his throat after the retching.

Shayne looked positively miserable as their eyes met. “What now?”

As he shut off the tap, Elliott brushed a wet hand across the back of his own neck, relishing the cold drip that started trailing down his back. He shut his eyes, feeling like he was ready to drift off to sleep on his feet, like a horse.

“Well,” he said, “how would you like to take a nap on a really nice mattress?”