#danny was framed framed i tell u

[kokoa-la]

Prompt from @masked-kitsune

Sent to me by anonymous lol

Part 1, part 2

This was absolutely absurd. While Danny did have a history of breaking beakers on accident and was also banned from his chemistry lab back in Casper high, he’d never made a whole lab blow up. The accusation was so unfitting. The halfa would label himself as simply misunderstood, it’s not his fault he has bad luck? You break a couple beakers and drop a few modern day potions and all of a sudden you’re suspected of the crime of exploding your school chem lab with no trial and the punishment of detention for the whole year. He was wronged, framed even. 

Danny, of course, was musing this all to himself in the detention room after school. He hadn’t managed to plead his case well enough. Gotham Academy was filled to the brim with money and nepotism, there was no way they’d believe the orphan on a Wayne scholarship. This had to be illegal (like him) or something. They didn’t even have any proof!

…

They didn’t have any proof. Oh Danny was getting a bad/wonderful/fun idea. He had to clear his name, obviously, he hated being blamed for things he didn’t do. If he just found evidence that it was someone else and not him, then it’d be fine. 

He couldn’t prove he wasn’t there. He had been out doing ghost stuff, as Phantom. What was he supposed to do? Go ghost and scare the bejeebus out of everyone there? Admit he’s a meta? (Being dead is a medical condition!) That’d worsen his sentence. Now he’s a charity case and a weirdo with powers! He didn’t need any more of being called a creepy boy with creepy powers thank you very much. 

Still, them not knowing he had powers was a blessing in disguise. The detention room door was locked until the two hours ran out, but the walls weren’t ghost proof, and neither was the ceiling- or anything of the room really. He’s pretty sure everyone in Gotham is somewhat superstitious, but they don’t really believe in ghosts. Danny knows because telling people his parents are ghost hunters in any place other than Amity went south very quickly. 

That settled it then. He’d use his powers to investigate the lab he is hereby banned from for the rest of his life, and find proof he’s innocent. Perfect plan. 

.

.

.

After a month he had gathered a substantial amount of clues that quite literally had no connection to each other. Getting into the cameras of the lab and the hallways around it wasn’t viable. He couldn’t hack into anything for the life of him and anytime he tried using any of his abilities on other cameras he just fried em. He’s sure with enough practice he could figure something out, but he didn’t know how long that’d take, no matter how fast he was at learning new abilities. Plus, a lot of then were already broken. Some areas were blacked out and finding out whether the cameras in that hallways worked or not was a problem on its own. 

He went over the events of that day once more. He had felt a ghost in the area, and having not interacted with one since he got to Gotham (sans Red Hood but he didn’t count) he quickly left to go and figure it out. He had gone to the bathroom in the science wing that just happened to be across from the chemistry lab. He goes ghost, leaves, finds literally  no one, not even getting a chill, returns, and the lab is gone. He’s found at the scene by a teacher who had heard the explosion and saw him at the scene, immediately dragging him to the principal's office. 

He knew he didn’t do it, even accidentally! He hadn’t touched the room at all, walking straight past it into the bathroom. He knew it looked bad. Of course it did, but he was innocent, and wasn’t too keen on staying after school for 2 hours every day for the whole year. 

The problem was if it was a ghost problem, but he knew it wasn’t. It couldn’t have been because the feeling of the lab afterwards (because he checked thoroughly) was lacking any ecto-energy at all. That meant it was a student or a person who went there, and when Danny found em he’d have a couple more than a few words for the guy. 

The halfa grumbled in his seat as he got yet another lecture. He’s been getting them every day without fail since the incident, at this point it was getting tiring. Ten minutes wasted listening to the English teacher bore on and on about the consequences of his actions and so on so forth, but this time was different. Mr. Lanch had stopped after five minutes when a knock came on the door. In strolled in Mr.Laner , with a boy. A boy who looked strikingly familiar to Danny. Black hair with a middle part, blue eyes, pale skin, lean figure, in his grade maybe? 

“Mr.Lanch this is Timothy Drake Wayne, he will be joining you for the next two months every day.” 

“I see. Well, Mr.Drake, take a seat, choose any they’re all open but one.”

Danny was seated in the back corner, Tim sat in the corner on the other side of the room, also in the back. Mr.Laner gave Danny a dirty look before leaving. Mr.Laner was the chemistry teacher, and he had made it his personal mission to be as cruel and petty as possible to Danny because of what happened- which wasn’t even his fault! When he cleared his name he wanted a full apology, seriously. 

And then there was Tim! He knew him, of course he did, the dude was the son of the guy who gave him his scholarship. He couldn’t even think about breathing in his direction, let alone sharing a room with him every day for the next two months alone. When Mr.Lanch had finished and left the room, locking the door behind him, Danny crumpled under the awkward atmosphere. Neither of them were saying anything- at all. Danny couldn’t even hear the other breathe. It was eating away at him, he had to say something, but what?

“What are you in for?”

That? That was his choice? Well it was a valid question considering they were in detention. 

“A fight.”

“You got in a fight?”

“No, I beat someone else senseless. He called it a fight to save his ego.”

Danny couldn’t stop the snort that escaped him. 

“Deserved it?”

“Oh definitely.” 

What he’d give to go back to Casper High and just beat the ever loving crap out of Dash. Stupid secret identities, making him be weak and get his ass kicked every day by a dumbass with good genes and blond hair. 

“What are you in for?” 

And now Danny was being questioned. He sighed.

“I was framed, framed I tell ya!”

“Uh-huh, that’s what they all say. What were you ‘framed’ for?”

Tim had used his fingers to put up air quotes along the word framed. Danny didn’t appreciate it. He was a truthful ghost- for the most part. He wasn’t lying!

“The explosion in the chem lab.”

“That was you?!”

Tim nearly hopped out of his seat. His head coming up from his fist that he laid it against. Gone was his relaxed posture of pure boredom and exhaustion.

“No it wasn’t! I just said I was framed!”

“But you’re so-”

“So what?”

What was this kid even getting at? Did Danny look weird? Look unable to explode shit? Cus he was able! 

“So-”

“Are you saying I’m incapable looking? That I can’t blow something up?”

“Well no-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Okay- you look harmless?”

“That’s rude.”

“I thought you wanted  to look innocent.”

“Cuz I am!”

“Uh huh, and I didn’t beat Andy bloody.”

“Andy? Anderson? The guy with diamonds on his teeth?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, they look so bad.”

Tim groaned before covering his head with his hands. Unpleasant memories, Danny assumed. Still, must have been nice to punch the guy. He was obnoxious and rude and always rubbing his money in Danny’s face. More than once he’s had to stop himself from strangling the kid. Another joy in his life robbed because he was a ghost. Such a shame, truly.

Danny laughed before slouching in his seat. How was he supposed to leave the room and investigate with Tim here? He banged his head against the desk. 

"You okay?"

"Yeah yeah all good" 

His voice was muffled from it being squashed against the desk, but the other heard him all the same. Danny practically whined before getting up out his seat, the metal screeching loudly against the floor. He walked over towards the desk in the front of the room and shuffled around the drawers. 

"What are you doing?" 

He ignored his detention buddy and focused on rummaging around the drawer for a paper clip. When he found one he undid it and bent it near the edge, giving it a ridge. 

"Hey!"

Tim, being ignored once again, got up from his own seat and walked over. 

Danny had kneeled at the door and jammed the paperclip into the lock, digging it in and jiggling it, waiting for a click. Has he ever done this before? No, but he's seen Sam do it to just about every lock they've ever encountered so he assumed it'd be easy enough to figure out. 

He was incorrect.

"You're doing it wrong."

He almost wanted to go "no shit, sherlock" to Tim, but decided against it.

"You know how to pick locks?"

"Obviously. Hand it over."

Danny shrugged his shoulders before handing over the paper clip and stepping away from the door. Tim rolled his eyes before taking the clip and putting it back in the lock, this time angling it up, pulling it back and forth and then twisting it. After a couple of seconds the door resounded with a click and Tim got up and opened the door. He smirked and leaned against the door.

"Still going to ignore me?"

[hauntedjohnny]

i really did try going into the victim lore with a positive mindset yesterday i swear

[disneyprincemuke]

midnights, 4 * mv1

you’re woken up in the middle of the night in cold sweat and max’s name at the tip of your tongue

pairings: max verstappen x reader

warnings: sad again :(

notes: i’m almost at 2k followers!!! i’ll be doing a sleepover event soon, so do look out for that!!!

(prev) // (next)

it feels so real, the way his hands are cupping your cheeks with his thumbs rubbing circles against the skin. “my darling.”

“max.” you come out in a whisper, your hands clutching onto his wrist. “don’t go.”

“i wouldn’t ever dare.”

wouldn’t ever dare.

that’s the words that woke you in a jolt, met by the darkness and stillness of your own bedroom. you stay in your position for a little bit, the weight on your chest making is slightly harder to breathe.

the effort to steady yourself is constant, but slow. there’s a tingling sensation where you think he last touched you, on your cheeks and by your neck. your lips are numb that you have to graze your fingers over it to make sure you’re really awake.

you exhale shakily, finally turning over to your side. you sigh and snuggle your face into the blanket. the picture frame of max kissing your cheek stands tall. it was his championship race from the 2022 season, right before he left the garage to start the race.

you couldn’t bear the thought of putting this one down. it had been a special moment with him, the thought of winning back to back championships seemed so silly in the beginning.

max doesn’t haunt your dreams often, even when you’d been pining for him. watching the championship sprint race wasn’t the best idea. you’d fallen asleep on the couch before it started and woke up with max’s face zoomed in on the screen.

it took everything in you not to send him a message, congratulating him on a win that was undisputedly his. every fibre of self control not to give him a call and ask him how everything has been.

you were curious yourself how the sprint had gone — you watched clips of him after the race looking drained. it almost brought you to his contact to call him, drowning him with questions laced with concern.

you wanted to be the one to press the cold towel to his forehead and essentially wipe him dry of his sweat.

you felt like a stranger to his life, and it’s killing you. you don’t know if he’s celebrating the championship with some other girl on his arm, sharing a tradition that only you two were aware of.

you can’t help but wonder if his champagne flavoured lips has been tasted by another woman and it makes your stomach churn at the thought of someone else having that luxury. a luxury that you seem to have dismissed too easily during your relationship.

but you realise it’s not really your problem, now that he’s just another ex-boyfriend; you’re just another ex-girlfriend.

your phone lights up on the nightstand, illuminating the picture frame. a small smile stretches your lips when you catch a glimpse of his lips smushed into your cheeks. not knowing what max is up to almost drives you crazy when you let it get to your head.

you now know nothing of the person you knew everything about.

it’s a bigger change than anyone cares to elaborate after a breakup. it’s a lot harder to deal with, but it’s something nobody ever talks about.

they tell you about the crippling pain of losing the love of your life and how empty the bed will feel without them. but nobody ever tells you how directionless and painful it will be when you feel yourself start to become a mere memory to them.

you slide your phone off your nightstand, reading the notifications that flooded your phone. you hadn’t expected anyone to be texting you so late, but you remember that half of the people you know are in another timezone.

danny ❧ not here for championship weekend? :( ❧ oh nevermind :/

the texts were 3 hours apart. you’re guessing that somewhere between those two messages, max had confessed about what happened.

alexandra ❧ did u text him?? ❧ it’s ok if u did…

but you still didn’t feel like talking to anybody. you drop the phone behind you and close your eyes.

a shaky breath passes your lips, max’s face flashing for a second — the face he makes when he’s across the room at a function and he spots you in the crowd unexpectedly. it’s very gentle and you can almost see the love oozing out of him when you’d caught it.

you open your eyes. you turn to your other side, now facing the empty half of your bed. you stretch your arm out and try to imagine the feeling of max next to you.

you try to remember what it felt like to be cuddled into his chest with his strong arm wrapped around your back. but it’s been so long since you’d been in such an intimate position with him, even before the relationship had come to its end.

sleep never came that night, the image of your love creeping up every single time you kept your eyes closed for too long. the sun had risen before you fell into a slumber, but max never left your mind even then.

taglist: @merchelsea @leclercdream @labelledejourr @laneyspaulding19 @lpab

[rabbitblackx]

Can i request some headcanons with Oni, Mastermind, Ghostface, Trickster reacting to their sweet and innocent reader getting accused by a random survivor for throwing a rock at them, even though the person was the one that did it, and not the reader. The person also tried to get them to chase the reader instead of him or her order to get away. But it immediately backfired due to them knowing better that their survivor reader would never do something like that to them?

I hope that you had a good Halloween rabbit! 💖

Yeah cool no problem! Hope u like it :) and I hope u had an awesome Halloween too!!💖

DBD Killers when an Innocent!Reader is framed for throwing a rock at them🤭🪨

Includes: Ghost Face, Oni, Trickster and Mastermind

Ghost Face

Feng Min pegged a rock at the Ghost Face, successfully decking him in the back of the head. The man sighed, turning around to see you and her by a generator. Feng immediately pointed at you, framing you for her assault. She then darted away and left you in her dust. You gaped at the betrayal of your fellow survivor. The Ghost Face met your eyes through black mesh

“Wha? It wasn’t me. I swear! She—she lied!”

The Ghost Face’s shoulders shook as he gave a raspy chuckle. Of course it wasn’t you. You were far too sweet, and he knew that. He knew that well

“C’mere, gorgeous.”

Your eyes grew wide as he waltzed over, hooking an arm around your waist. The Ghost Face yanked you into his chest, causing you to blindly grip onto leather with a yelp. He would go get your ‘friend’ later. But as of right now, he just wanted you in his arms. It had been awhile since the Ghost Face and you had crossed paths. Because of this, he made sure to treat each time like it was your last

“You know she was lying, right? I’d never throw a rock at you.” You pouted

The Ghost Face chuckled again, bringing a gloved hand up to remove his mask

“I know, baby.” He grinned

His lips pressed against yours firmly. His eyes were blissfully shut as he pulled you impossibly close

“Mmm, Danny.” You squeaked against him

The Ghost Face pulled away to stare at your innocent features. His dead heart felt an unfamiliar warmth as you smiled sweetly at him

He would then leave to you be, in search of Feng instead. She couldn’t believe her eyes when she found the Ghost Face chasing after her instead of you. Had her ‘genius’ plan not worked?

Oni

*THWACK*

You looked on in horror after Yui threw a rock at your poor Oni’s masked face. He had quite the thick covering in that area but you could tell it still hurt him. He wasn’t looking at you two when it happened. He was distracted with Adam, slicing into the man’s back with his katana. That was when Yui struck. While she did it to help Adam, that didn’t apply to you. When the Oni whipped around to glare at her, he sneered behind his mask when she pointed at you

“They did it.” Yui deadpanned

Yui took off, with Adam limping after her. You couldn’t believe the betrayal. You thought that the Oni would get mad, and maybe even harm you. But he honestly seemed more mad at Yui than yourself

“It wasn’t me! She was lying. I would never!”

The Oni trudged over to your cowering form. You flinched when a massive hand came up over your head. Your tense muscles relaxed as it set on top of your hair with an overwhelming amount of gentleness

“I know.” He cooed in Japanese

The Oni pet your hair. You were very surprised he hadn’t gone crazy with fury yet

“Sorry she was a meanie, Kazan.” You frowned

He hummed in reply, a deep rumbling noise that brewed within his broad chest.

Kazan absolutely adored you. Which was why he had to love and leave you, furiously going after Yui. How dared she blame you for something she did? And to think she’d get away with it?

The Oni gave your cheek one last caress before hunting down that girl. Like you, this was going to be sweet. The sounds of Yui’s screams were going to sound all the more satisfying because they were just for you

Trickster

The Trickster cursed in Korean when a small rock bounced off the back of his head. He whirled around to spot you and Claudette in the tall grass. Claudette immediately pointed at you, silently telling him you did it. But alas, she was only framing you for her own crime

The Trickster laughed at her meanly, knowing better. As if his perfect songbird would hurt him like that. He yoinked a colourful blade from his yellow coat, skilfully throwing it Claudette’s way. It struck her shoulder, and you leapt back in surprise. You and the girl stared at the Trickster in disbelief

“I said they did it!” Claudette gasped in pain

The Trickster still didn’t listen, only pinning her down with more and more of his blades. He only stopped when you said so.

That made him sigh, begrudgingly letting Claudette limp away, only to catch up with her later. His glowing gaze set on you now, taking in your cute face

“I promise it wasn’t me.” You blurted out

The Trickster smirked, playfully rolling his eyes. “I know, babe. It’s okay.” He moved towards you

You threw your arms around his neck and nuzzled into it with a giggle. He hugged you tight, his nose buried in your hair. You glanced up and gently traced your fingers over his temple

“Are you okay? She didn’t hurt you too bad, did she?” You asked

The Trickster pressed a tender kiss to your flushed cheek

“Don’t worry about me, babe.”

He soon trotted off, in searches of Claudette again. He left you all smitten and flustered, making sure you wouldn’t try to intervene. You were just so kind like that. Though she threw you under the bus, the Trickster knew that you would still and try save her

He couldn’t help but admire that

Mastermind

“Are you trying to make me angry?”

Albert Wesker chased after Dwight after he had pegged a rock at him when he wasn’t looking. Though in a fit of panic, Dwight shoved you in the way

“It wasn’t me. It was them!”

The Mastermind nearly bouldered you over as you were thrown in his road. He halted to a stop, just skidded in front of you. Your face was covered by your hands as you cowered before him. Albert sighed, and placed a gloved hand on your shoulder. Your head whipped up to meet his catlike eyes

“It’s alright, darling.”

Tears pricked your eyes, saddened that Dwight and abandoned you. But at the same time, you knew he was just scared

“Albee, it wasn’t me. I promise it wasn’t.” You whimpered

The Mastermind immediately snaked his arms around you. You sniffled into his chest and held on tight

“I know, sweetheart. I didn’t think it was you for a second. It doesn’t matter, my dear. I’m fine.”

He petted your head that was nestled against him. You hadn’t seem Wesker in awhile, and missed his touch. Though he didn’t want to admit it, he felt the same way

This was fine. Once the Mastermind was done with you, then he would hunt down Dwight. Uh-huh, sure… just a little longer holding you then he’d get straight to work…

Albert couldn’t let you go. Your warmth and sweet words of praise made his stomach flutter. He had never met someone quite like you

[starry-bi-sky]

Childhood Friends Au: Danny's in Gotham Again

when the wool is off your eyes you'll stop counting sheep at night cause you'll eat your fill of them during the daytime

A few weeks after Danny’s visit to Gotham, he buys an apartment in the city. It’s this little thing, a studio apartment on the same street he grew up in. In Crime Alley. When he tells his parents, they protest heavily. They don’t think it's safe. They think he should reconsider. There were plenty of apartments and places to live somewhere else. And what about college? 

Danny doesn’t think he’ll go to college. He isn’t sure what he wants to do, now that being an astronaut is off the table. It’d be a waste of money to go without a goal in mind, he thinks. He says he’ll take a gap year and apply at one of the community colleges funded by the Wayne Corporation, possibly. It just wasn’t in the cards right now. 

“If things get tough,” He says at dinner that night, “then I can talk to the Waynes. I’m friends with the family, remember?” He ended up getting Bruce’s number in his phone again before he left, and in the process got Tim’s as well. They don’t talk much, Danny isn’t sure what to say. But he sends Tim memes whenever he comes across one and thinks he’ll like. Tim sends memes back in return.   

His parents do remember. They remember. They also remember the horrified shriek that echoed through the house when Danny learned of Jason’s passing. They remember running up the stairs and bursting into their son’s room and finding him sobbing into his bed, curled up like a little kid, like he was in pain. He lost his voice that day, stuck between screaming out his grief and sobbing it. 

They’re still not sure if they should let him go. 

In the end, Danny wins them out, and he lets them help him search for an apartment. They take a break from their lab work to help search for cheap furniture to buy. They may have more money than when they were in Gotham, but that frugal part of you never fully goes away. They all agree that they don’t want Danny to be seen carrying in nice-looking furniture when he moves in. 

He ends up with a basic furniture set, all mismatched, and in the warm summer of June, his parents rent out a u-haul and drive him down to Gotham to move in. They meet the landlord when they arrive, a skinny and frail old man with wispy white hair and a wrinkled face. He gives Danny the keys and tells him what apartment number he is, and then he leaves. 

His parents help him move in. They help him carry his heavy furniture up to the second floor, where his apartment is. Danny isn’t sure if he wants them to help. His mom and dad are strong, but they are getting old, closer to their fifties now that their children are grown. His dad’s hair is slowly beginning to thin, and rather than the white eating at the sides of his head, it now streaks through his hair like salt-and-pepper. His mom’s hair is graying out too, and there are more lines in their faces than he remembers there being. 

When he voices his concerns, his mom laughs spiritedly and says that they may be getting old, but they are still as spry as when they were in their twenties. Danny isn’t sure if he believes them or not. He can see his dad struggle a bit when they return to get his bed frame, and they have to take a break before they go back down for the rest of their things. 

Five years ago, his dad could do this without breaking a sweat. It forces a heavy thing in the back of Danny’s throat. (He is less afraid of his own death than he is of his loved ones, and while he has always felt rocky with his parents, he still loves them more than anything else.) 

Danny’s apartment is exactly as he would have expected it to be: shabby and worn through. The entire room smells like stale cigarette smoke and weed, nicotine stains the wall with poorly covered bullet holes, and stains in the carpet that are a color he can’t discern. The fridge has a broken light and when he tries to turn on the gas stove, it click-click-clicks before lighting, fire fwooshing out while the smell of gas fills the air. There’s rat droppings in the cupboards and the closet-like bathroom is just as bad. 

The ghostly part of him can sense the heavy stench of death in the room; people have died in this room. People have died in every room of this building, he thinks. They have died on the streets outside and in the alleys squeezed between them. He can feel it like a heavy fog in the air. 

It is painfully nostalgic, a bittersweet feeling in his chest that he grimaces to. 

When the last box is placed in his apartment, his parents offer to help unpack. They are hesitant to leave and Danny knows it, although he doesn’t know if it’s from empty nest syndrome or because it's Gotham. He thinks it might be both. He is their youngest child finally leaving home to a city known for its danger. 

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay behind, sweetie?” His mother asks, a frown she tries to hide settled in the creases of her face. She fiddles with her hands, a nervous habit Danny has since noticed when she feels truly unsure and doesn’t need to hide it. Hesitancy looms over her like a heavy cloud. 

His dad jumps in hastily, splaying his hands and smiling painfully wide to hide the glistening in his eyes. “You’re mother’s right! We can help you get everything set up, champ. I could probably do something with that stove of yours to make it faster!” He says, his voice still booming like it always does even if there’s a stumble in his words. 

It makes his heart squeeze, knowing just how much they care. It was hard last summer, telling him that he was the Phantom. Terrifying, actually. They couldn’t comprehend it. He hadn’t felt his heart beat that fast in years when he stood in front of them at the kitchen table and told them he was a halfa, begging them to believe that ghosts weren’t inherently evil. 

His parents were people of science, however, and after much, much shock, they slowly came to terms with it. How could they not? The evidence was right in front of them. Their son was dead-alive, alive-dead. Somewhere stuck in the between. The tears they shed that night could fill a river, moving from the kitchen to the living room as Danny explains how he died. 

(When Danny tells them that he died after a week Jason did, his mom and dad look horrified. His mom covers her mouth when he adds that it was his idea to go inside it, his dad looks ashy pale, gripping his pant legs so tight that his knuckles turn white. There is a conclusion coming to their minds that he can tell they don’t like.) 

(“You’ve always hated our inventions, Danny.” Mom says in a hushed voice, and Danny winces at the wording, sinking into the back of the cushions in shame. He never thought that his parents noticed. Mom quickly grabs his arm, “No, no, there’s nothing to be ashamed of Danny. We were… perhaps too careless with our inventions, too enthusiastic. You had every right to hate the things we made when they had a tendency to… to malfunction.”) 

(Malfunction is a delicate way of putting it, when Danny remembers every time they had to evacuate their old apartment complex because whatever half-baked creation his parents made inevitably blew up into ash and smoke. There were soot marks permanently stained into the ceiling.) 

(Her hand slides down and grabs his, and she cups it in both of her hands, squeezing tightly. He forces himself to look up, and there is a look like her heart breaking when he looks into his mother’s eyes. “You’ve always avoided the lab after we moved, Danny. And you had every right to, so why on Earth did you ever think about going into the portal?”)

(Danny struggles to come up with an adequate answer, a way to verbalize what came over him that day five years ago. The answer is there, hanging in the air like a knot in a noose. He opens his mouth, and then closes it.)

(Finally, with a tongue made of lead, he shrugs lamely and looks away. “I didn’t know there was an on button inside it.” He mumbles, and despite being the truth it feels like a lie. But that is the truth. He didn’t know there was an on button inside it. So he didn’t care what happened.)

(Something dulls in mom’s eyes, like she thought of something else that Danny hadn’t said. Her eyes shimmer, and she squeezes them shut, breathing in so deep that it shakes. And then she pulls him into a hug, a hand burying into his hair and pressing him close. “It must have hurt so much, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”)

(It is something that Danny doesn’t expect her to say, like missing the last step of the stairs. It startles him so much he laughs this short, bark of a thing. He feels his dad press against his back and wrap his big arms around them, his nose pushed into his hair.) 

(Because yeah. Yeah, it did hurt. It hurt more than anything else he’s ever felt before. It had torn him apart and sewn him back together again, only to rinse and repeat. The pain was nothing he ever spoke to Sam or Tucker about, and it was something they never brought up. No, that’s not true. If they ever brought it up, Tucker would call it a zap. As if Danny only experienced a mild static shock. Like it was painless. It’s a pretty lie that Danny lets him and Sam believe.)

(His eyes sting and water immediately wobbles into his vision, coming up with such a force that he doesn’t even need to blink before it spills over. “Yeah.” He forces out, voice unexpectedly rough and cracking. “Yeah, it- it hurt. A lot.”)

He tells them about fighting the Lunch Lady a month later. He tells them about finding Jason. It comes spilling out like a waterfall. “I found him, mom.” He says, holding onto her tight while she keeps him tucked under his chin like a little kid. The secret of Jason being Robin stays hidden under his tongue, it is not his secret to tell. Not his identity to expose. He grips her tighter. “I found him, mom. Right there in the Ghost Zone, and he was my Jason. He wasn’t an echo or a— an imprint of him.”

Mom is silent; quiet and attentive, and so is dad, who rubs his large hands up and down Danny’s spine in an attempt to soothe him. It only works a little. Danny breathes in like a gasp as the urge to cry overcomes him again. He always avoids talking about Jason, his grief is like a never-healing scab that can be picked off at any time. It is ingrained into his core. 

“And then I lost him.” He forces out, a sob layering under his words that he chokes on and swallows. The hand on his back stills, and he can feel mom and dad breathe in like a question. He turns his head and pushes it into mom’s shoulder. “He disappeared, mom. Just— just gone.”

“And he didn’t move on.” He says, voice snarling like teeth biting before his mom can ask, because he knows that’s what she was going to ask. It’s what Sam and Tucker asked when he came to them in tears hours after he found Jason gone. It’s what Jazz said when he finally told her about it. It’s what every one of his ghosts asked when he told them about it and begged for their help. 

Danny grits his teeth and tries not to dig his nails into mom’s clothes as a fresh wave of tears run down his face. “His haunt is still there. If Jason really moved on it would have disappeared with him. That’s how it works. But it’s still in the zone, so Jason’s out there I just don’t know where.” 

(Sam once asks him why Danny didn’t just move on from it a year after Jason’s disappearance. She asked him why he didn’t give it up. Danny nearly saw red, and nearly bit her head off for it. It was incomprehensible to him to just stop looking for Jason, to give up. Not when he was out in the zone somewhere. Because he had to be in the zone.)

(Danny once tried to take Jason through the portal with him, and much like what happened to Kitty, it didn’t work. Jason was too tied to the ghost zone to leave.) 

(Some bonds are just unbreakable, he thinks. Bonds forged through blood and time and trust, and when you’re on the streets of Gotham, you hoard what little trust you have in someone like a dragon with its gold. It is scarcely given and fiercely kept.) 

“I’ve been looking for him.” Danny whispers when talking becomes too hard for him, when it runs the risk of him crying. “When- when I’m not fighting ghosts or, or in school or with my friends, I’ve been looking for him.” He has explored the Ghost Zone in every reach he can. He has met so many people. He’s met the ghosts of aliens from planets in every corner of the galaxy. He has met gods or god-like beings and their disciples. 

He’s met famous scholars and writers (he’s gotten the autographs of all of Jason’s favorite writers). He has found entire cities that have so much life in it that it's been permanently etched into the ghost zone, like a mirror version of itself. 

He’s visited the ghostly vision of Gotham so many times, and he avoids the imprint of Wayne Manor like the plague. There are ghostly newspapers that he reads. There are the ghosts of Martha and Thomas Wayne in many of them. 

Jason’s haunt connects to Wayne Manor, but it is also the street they grew up in. It is a small brick building with a door that leads to Jason’s room. A ghost knows when someone enters their haunt, it alerts them like a doorbell in the back of their mind. A foreign ecto-signature in a place drenched in your own. 

Danny visits it every time he goes into the Ghost Zone. It’s always his first stop. 

He tells his parents all of it. He tells them of the ghosts he’s met, of the places he’s seen. And when he feels brave, he tells them about Rath and the terror that his future self brings him. He keeps some details hidden, the ones that he can afford to keep without muddling up the story. 

(Rath is a tall, spindly thing, like a funhouse mirror version of Danny himself. He has arms that are much too long and legs that are much too tall, with skinny fingers that extend into claws.He wears his suit the same as Danny does, with it partially undone and the sleeves wrapped around his waist.)

(There is a black hole in his chest that is much bigger than Danny’s own. It takes up his chest cavity and drips the same, viscous black liquid as the tears falling from his eyes. Danny never forgets his voice; a scraping, quiet thing like he’s screamed himself hoarse. Rath has a voice like goosebumps, and it haunts Danny like a bump in the night.) 

Danny speaks and speaks and speaks until he can’t think of anything else to speak of. He is tired and sad, and it feels like his heart has been ripped out and rubbed raw again. And yet, he also feels so much better. Like a long heavy weight has been taken off his chest. 

Yeah, last summer was hard. His parents walked on eggshells around him, and they forced themselves to unlearn their bias of ghosts. It was more than Danny could have ever dreamed of, and when they felt ready for it, they asked him more about the ghost zone.

He smiles sadly at his dad, “I think fixing the stove can be a priority another time, dad.” He says, watching him wilt and his smile fall. Jack Fenton was always so good at making himself look like a kicked puppy. “I can handle unpacking by myself, I promise.” 

His parents still look so unsure, like they want to argue. Danny watches his mom purse her lips tightly, confliction running across her face like a datastream. She takes dad’s hand, squeezing their fingers together despite the droop in her shoulders. 

“Oh, alright then, I suppose.” She relents, her hand placing on Jack’s arm. “I guess we could go, we’re just going to miss you so much, Danny.” 

Tears seem to have won over his dad, and Jack Fenton sniffs back before he can cry properly. “Our little boy, all grown up.” He says, voice wobbling. It makes Danny laugh, and it makes his heart pang. His smile grows impossibly wider and so much fonder. “You’ve become such a kind, wonderful young man, Danno. We’re so proud of you.” 

Danny laughs again, and it cracks. “You’re gonna make me cry, dad.” (He feels a welling of guilt in his gut that he ignores — he doesn’t feel like a kind man. He doesn’t feel like a good one either. Not with what he plans to do.) 

His father holds out his arms in hopefulness, “One last hug for your old man before we head out?” He asks, mustering up a smile on his face. 

Danny barrels into him, nearly knocking his dad over with an oomph. He’s as tall as him now, but he still feels little in his bear hugs. With arms wrapping around his middle, Danny hugs his father tight and breathes him in one last time. 

“Careful there, Danno.” He laughs, patting Danny’s back roughly. “You’ll break my ribs with that ghostly strength of yours!” But he holds on just as tight.

Out of spite, Danny bends back and lifts him off his feet, laughing when Jack tenses up and nearly scrambles out of surprise. His mom laughs with him, stepping back to give them room for the few seconds that dad is in the air. 

When it’s his mom’s turn, Danny has to hunch to hug her. Something bittersweet to him as she plants a kiss on his forehead and says that he’ll always be her baby. “Even if you do have that horrid smoking habit.” She adds on with a disapproving eyebrow raise. 

Danny turns red in embarrassment, and walks them back to the GAV. Gothamites of all kinds slow to stop and boggle at the monstrous, road-illegal thing that is parallel-parked next to the curbside. In the past, Danny would have died with mortification to be seen with it. Now it just makes him laugh. Before he goes back into the apartment building, he buys a newspaper from a nearby convenience store.  

The first thing he does when he gets back up to his room is one: make a mental note to buy a bicycle chain lock for the door. The locks jiggle and there are splinters along the side that show signs of it being broken into in the past. The second thing he does is pull his cigarettes out of his pocket and light one. 

Danny starts to unpack with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, placing the newspaper he bought onto the counter. He has a cheap loveseat that he pushes off to the side, and he moves the boxes into the kitchen. It’s a matter of organization that Danny has to think about before he does anything. 

It’s as he’s pushing the sofa up against the wall facing the windows that his phone rings a familiar tune: Sam. The phone is fished out before he can think about it and when he stares down at the screen, he realizes it's a facetime call. 

He presses answer and walks over to prop his phone up onto the counter. The smiling faces of Sam and Tucker greet him, rather than just Sam. Immediately, Danny grins. “Hey Danny.” Sam greets, smiling a dark-painted lazy thing. From the background it looks like they’re in Tucker’s room. Sam is in Tucker’s desk chair, and Tucker is behind her, leaning against it. “Have you moved in yet?” 

Danny pulls the cigarette from his mouth and huffs, a cloud of smoke following his breath. “Yeah! It’s a shithole.” He grins lopsidedly, and his feet carry him off to the side to allow Sam and Tucker view of his apartment. He lets thirty seconds pass, allowing the both of them to really see the rest of the room. And then he steps back into frame. 

Sam and Tucker both look like they’re trying not to look judgemental, like they’re trying to hide a grimace that Danny sees anyway with the small turns at the corner of their mouths. He grins wider, mirth filling his lungs. “I know, it looks awful doesn’t it?”

“It’s— it’s not so bad.” Sam says with a strain in her voice, a forced smile on her face that tries to be reassuring. Tucker nods along readily, and he looks just as unsure as Sam does. Danny stifles laughter behind his teeth. 

“No, no, it looks bad,” He takes a drag of his cigarette, shaking his head. “You can say it, I won’t get offended. It’s a fucking apartment in crime alley. Of course it looks bad.” 

Sam remains silent, a rearing of her stubbornness showing itself. Tucker takes a different approach, and heaves a dramatic sigh of relief, slumping like a weight. “Okay, you’re right. It looks bad.” He frowns, “Sorry, man.” 

While Danny snorts, Sam sighs. “Yeah, it looks bad. What even are those stains?” She asks, and both she and Tucker lean closer in tandem to the screen, eyes squinting at the floor behind him. Danny glances at the floor, and shrugs. 

“Blood, probably.” He says, and while years in Amity Park have accustomed him to a clean environment, the desensitization of Gotham still remains. Tucker and Sam both make faces and lean away, as if the stain itself was capable of passing through to them. “Yeah, there are bullet holes in the walls.” 

“Are you sure it’s safe to be there?” Tucker asks, a furrow appearing between his brows. He adjusts his glasses and leans against the chair. Sam is frowning heavily, and Danny can already see her thinking up of a new way to fix the problem. 

“Oh, I never said this place was safe.” Danny tells him cheerily, taking a last hit of his cigarette before placing the dead stick onto the counter. He itches for another one. Instead he walks over to the shelf his parents brought in and starts moving it. “It’s Crime Alley, Tuck. Safe isn’t even in its vocabulary.” 

Tucker and Sam look like they’ve both swallowed a lemon.

“But it’s where I want to be right now.” He says, grunting quietly when the shelf is against the wall he wants it to be, near the short hallway leading to the front door. He can push it in front of it if someone tries to break in. “And Crime Alley’s apartments are the only ones I can really afford right now without mooching off my parents, and I’d rather not depend on them.” 

He can hear the disapproving hesitance from where he stands. And he ignores it. 

Danny walks back into frame, lifting up a box onto the counter. He hums lightly, fingers run over the tape keeping it shut. “Why do you even want to be in Gotham, Danny?” Sam asks, and she sounds genuinely perplexed. Danny stills. “I thought this place only had bad memories for you.” 

His blood turns cold, and like a dime being flipped his slow heartbeat fills his ears. “It does.” He replies automatically, before he can think. Shit, shit. He knows that Sam or Tucker would ask that question, and yet he still feels unprepared for it. His heart pulses quickly against his ribcage, knocking, asking him what he’s going to tell them that isn’t the truth. 

Danny stammers, “I mean— I just— I guess I felt nostalgic.” He says, and it sounds like a weak defense. He looks away, finding himself instinctively scratching his jaw. A new tick of his when he’s nervous. From the corner of his eye, he sees Sam and Tucker both narrow their eyes at him. 

He cannot tell them the real reason why he’s moved back to Gotham. He can’t tell them of the little secret and vow he told himself five years ago, the one that’s been left to fester and burn like an open wound close to his core. The one that, if he thinks too much about it, sends a searing hot electricity through him, filling him from crown to toe top-full of direst wrath.  

(Danny was always the angrier one in the duo of Jason and Danny. He was always the one with glass in his mouth, cutting his teeth and tongue so that he could spit blood at the world around them. His knuckles had more blood and bruises on it than skin, once upon a time. All because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He has grown from it, that fury has turned to a small simmering candle.) (But sometimes, sometimes it rears its head, and electricity will buzz under Danny’s skin. There is lightning before the thunder, the second before a fist pulled to punch lands, the spark before it becomes a blaze.) 

He stumbles over his words, and then sighs long and low, drooping his head. “I… was thinking that I can’t avoid this place forever.” He says, and the best lies always have the truth in it. Because it’s not a lie, not completely. But it’s not close enough to the truth either. “And that maybe if I came back, I’d be able to do something about those bad memories. Make them better or make it hurt less.” 

Like wool over their eyes, it fools Sam and Tucker. Their narrowed eyes soften, and Danny feels like a snake is in his lungs as they both adopt their own versions of gentleness on their faces. “Oh, Danny.” Sam breathes out, and the snake squeezes, “Of course, we understand.”

Tucker nods, smiling at him. “Yeah, bro, that’s really brave of you. I know it can’t be easy coming back.” He says, “Maybe you can reconnect with the Waynes again, you always thought well of Mister Wayne whenever you came back from visiting.”

Danny smiles weakly, the gesture cutting into his cheeks like a knife. Perhaps he could. He was still upset with Bruce for hiding Jason’s killer from him. But he doesn’t hate him. Maybe five years ago, he did, when the death of Jason was still fresh in his mind and freshly bleeding in his heart. Now he just doesn’t know what to think of him. He was Batman. Jason was Robin, and the Joker killed Robin. 

It would need to be something he’d have to speak to Bruce about in person, he thinks, in order to resolve it. To hear his judgment on it and make an opinion from there. Danny has learned in the last five years, much to Jazz’s smug delight, that talking to people about something he was upset about did make him feel better. 

The conversation slips on from there into something more light, more breathable. And while they talk, Danny unpacks. He sets up his bed in the corner of the room, adjacent to the windows, and unpacks his cheap TV and table stand. It’s directly across from the couch, in front of the windows. He puts up knicks and knacks he’s collected over the years on the shelves.

When he puts up the curtains, he notices that more than one frame jiggles loosely. Sam makes a comment on the musty stains permanently dyed into the glass, and Danny talks about getting something to fix the cracks. Gotham winters can get brutal, and even if he can withstand the cold, doesn’t mean everything else in his apartment can. 

“Oh, watch this.” He says halfway through unpacking, and pulls out a stick of thick white chalk from a box. “This is something I learned from Clockwork a while back; I think he knew I was going to move to Gotham.” He grins sillily, popping into the camera frame to show them. “I wonder how?” 

Sam rolls her eyes, smiling while Tucker huffs. “It’s not like he’s the Master of Time and can see all past, present, and future.” Tucker snarks. 

Danny hums lightly, curt like he isn’t sure he believes Tucker, and walks to a piece of bare wall not yet blocked by furniture. He starts to draw on it. The chalk shimmers with faint ectoplasm on the wall. 

“Uhh…” Tucker’s voice cuts through, “Are you sure you should be doing that? Won’t you get in trouble for that?”

“There are bullet holes in the plaster, Tucker.” Danny retorts dryly, arching his hand to make a big circle. “I don’t think the landlord is gonna care if I get washable chalk on his walls.” Inside the circle, he inscribes the symbols of the Infinite Realms. “I don’t think he’d be able to see it anyways, he was really old.” 

When he is done, Danny steps back to admire his work. It’s not bad, he thinks, for a lack of practice. He tosses the chalk off to the side, it lands on the couch and rolls back into the cushions. Ectoplasm heats under his hand, slowly glowing from his fingertips before stretching down the rest of his palm. 

Danny’s fingers press against the wall, into the center of the circle. The result is immediate, ectoplasm is siphoned off his hand and into the circle. It glows, and then swirls. He steps off to the side for Sam and Tucker to watch its transformation. The circle fills with a swirling pool of ectoplasm, like a smaller version of the basement portal, and then it warps and stretches. 

It fills out a rectangular shape, shifting like taffy being pulled this way and that, before settling into a solid shape. It solidifies, and instead of a wall there is a glowing purple door, warped in nature and seemingly shifting like a trick of the eyes. He can hear the gentle hum of the zone standing next to it, and can see the carving of the circle in the wood. 

He gestures dramatically, grinning from ear to ear. “Ta-da~” He sings, “A door to my haunt! For whenever I feel like visiting it.” He pats the wood, making a strange thunk-thunk sound. “And then watch this.” 

Danny touches the circle again, and the door twists and recedes like water going down a drain. The circle flashes bright green, and then fades into nothing on the wall, invisible to the naked eye. “I can hide it whenever I want! So if I ever invite someone over—” which he doubts, “—I won’t have to worry about them asking, ‘Hey Danny? Why is there a creepy fucking door in your studio apartment?’”

He gets a pair of laughs for his efforts, and Danny grins wider. 

Sam and Tucker have to end the call when Danny is nearly done unpacking, leaving him alone with only his thoughts and the Gotham ambience outside. There were only a few boxes left, and they promise to call him tomorrow. He tells them that they better keep that promise. 

The silence that follows after they leave feels somberly, as if the reality of moving in has finally set in and filled the air with its loneliness. With its change. Finally, Danny lets the strangeness of moving back to Gotham hit him when he reaches the last box, and he stops to take another smoke break to let it settle. 

It feels so strange to be back in Gotham, he thinks. He’s all grown up, or almost grown up. He can vote and pay taxes, but he doesn’t feel much older than he was at fourteen. There’s a disconnect that makes him feel sad. 

There are cars running outside, driving by. He can only catch glimpses of them, his apartment faces an alleyway. There are dogs barking in the distance, strays he bets. It’s already dark out, and he wonders if he looks out the window he would see the bat-signal shining through the night and staining the permanent cloud that hangs over Gotham. 

Bruce would be so disappointed if he learned the reason for Danny’s return to Gotham. But Danny’s not here for him. He’s here for someone far more important. And like that, the simmering anger that has tucked itself into the furthest corners of his heart starts slipping through. His heart has teeth, ready to strike and snarl and bite. 

He crushes the cigarette in his hand and throws it away. When he opens the last box, it is with hands that tremble and with a face of stone. With a delicateness he does not feel, he reaches in and pulls a corkboard from the box. On the corner frame is a small, near inconspicuous carving of another ghost rune. 

Danny hangs it up on an empty space on the wall, out of sight from the window. It’s plain, and he has nothing to pin to it. He presses the small rune on the corner, pushing ectoplasm into it. Unlike the door, it does not twist and warp and shape itself into something new. Instead it bursts into green flame, eating away at the board and revealing the same thing underneath it, just in dark blue-black-purple. 

Now this board, this board Danny has something to pin to it. The newspaper he bought earlier sits abandoned on the counter, and Danny unrolls it with something like viciousness in his chest. On the front page is an image of a damaged street, and above it is titled: “JOKER STRIKES AGAIN, 3 DEAD AND 27 INJURED”

Danny rips out the first page, he rips out every mention of him. His hands shake and threaten to crumple the paper as he turns back to the board, there is hot blood pounding in his ears. There is an impending sense of finally in his chest, like a setting sun giving the stage to a starless night. There is a stern set in his jaw, five years of festering rage rushing forth like a tidal wave, threatening to make his vision swim. 

It would be so easy, he thinks, to go out as Phantom right now and hunt the clown down. It would only take a night. All it would take is a night, and then he could sink his hands into the Joker’s chest and rip out his heart where he stood. It would be so easy. 

The thought alone forces Danny to stop as he is hit with another rush of fury, really making his head and vision swim. Thorny vines wrap around his throat, making it hard to breathe. He stares at a spot on the wall until the shaking passes. 

If he wants to be discreet about this, then he can’t do it now. Even if he wants to. He doesn’t want witnesses. He doesn’t want an audience. He made a mistake, telling Red Hood about his plan. He wasn’t sure what he was thinking. Perhaps he wasn’t thinking at all. But he can only hope that the Hood hasn’t mentioned it to Bruce. He knows it hasn’t been long since they started working together. He hopes that the Hood has already forgotten about it. 

He pins the newspaper clippings onto the black-blue-board, and stands back. It’s bare now, but it won’t be forever. 

He presses the circle again, and the pinboard reverts back to its original blank state. 

-----

Was I expecting to make a third part?? No. No I was not. I was also not expecting to make an entire google doc filled with summaries for short story ideas about this au that all tie into each other so that way if i DO continue this i have a skeleton pathway to follow rather than making everything up from scratch and potentially cornering myself

you can find this on ao3 or on tumblr 1 2 :)

[gildedphoenix]

EctoParasites - Acceptance

I've started a new fic and posted a little blurb and got a decent response so I'm going to start posting unedited chapters/scenes. Hoping that the sweet sweet dopamine will also motivate me to KEEP writing. So here's some good-mom Maddie Fenton and her sweet obsessed Ghost son.

Gotham U Acceptance Letter

“Mom! I got accepted! I got the scholarship! With a full ride! They loved my submission. remember the competition they ran for the ISS for experiment submissions and I told you all about the way that the Zone acts a lot like the minimal gravity of space and how that really messed with my proprioception when I first started spending long spans of time in the zone and then coming back? So I thought that maybe it might be an issue for the astronauts too! So I submitted that thought, but you know, leaving out the stuff about the Zone because that’s not really common knowledge, I just reframed it as a hypothetical situation, so I proposed some exercises that the astronauts could do on earth, and then - Are you listening mom?” 

Maddie nodded as she continued recalibrating an ecto-gun to be a little more non-lethal. “Yes, dear. I remember you telling me all about it. What did the Wayne Enterprises Scholarship board say about the idea?” She looked up from the blaster briefly to see that Danny was pacing back and forth about 4 inches off the ground. Even though they now knew about his powers, Danny still defaulted to trying to hide his powers. He just….got worse at it. Being able to unmask had made a huge difference in his mental health but the mask couldn’t quite be put all the way back on anymore. 

“Oh yeah. I couldn’t remember if i’d told you. But yeah! They loved it. I actually got a response letter from one of the Canadian astronauts. Chris Hadfield? He's done a lot of the elementary school kids’ experiments and he usually films them and uploads them to ViewTube. His channel is super popular. Him. I got a letter from Hadfield that is was really well thought out experiment and he’s going to personally do it along with a couple others who are scheduled to go up on the next trip, I’m gunna frame that letter. It’s going on my wall forever. He didn’t say when that was.” Danny had continued his pacing around the lab. He had been just phasing through the tables in his excitement but after knocking over phase proof equipment about 7 times, he was now pacing above the tables. “and. um… Oh yeah, the scholarship! They loved it and the scholarship board is going to send over the enrollment paperwork for Gotham U and then all the stipulations and conditions of the scholarship. I’ve gotta keep at least a 3.2 average or I’ll lose my scholarship and-”

Danny’s voice went quieter as he started mumbling to himself and Maddie just shook her head. She’d reel him back in before dinner time but for now he was just happily spiraling, both mentally and physically near the ceiling.

[weightofkiszka]

𝒮𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓌 𝑜𝒻 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒟𝒶𝓌𝓃~𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓉𝑒𝓇 5

Pairings: Danny Wagner x f!reader

word count: 1,074

warnings: angst, lying, yelling, arguing

DANIEL'S POV

The weeks after Nikki had shown up to Sam's house were filled with doctors appointments, time with Y/N, and lots of thinking. You had come to the conclusion that while you weren't ready to be a father, you'd do your best to care for the baby. Y/N had stayed with you even when you thought she would walk away. The two of you made it very clear to Nikki that you were together, and she understood completely. In her words she "Had no feelings for you, but knew it was best you were in your child's life."

She started spending time with Sam and grew close to him. Y/N had begun slowly moving into your apartment and adding her own touch to it. You were thankful for her, she assured everything was going to be okay. Until it wasn't.

SAM'S POV

"So, how did you and Danny meet? He never did talk about you very much." You had your arm around Nikki's shoulders. You would be lying if you said you didn't have some type of feelings for her. She was beautiful and everything you wanted in a woman.

"Oh we met on Tinder. It was supposed to be a one night thing but we spent a lot of time together and I wasn't ready for a relationship at the time. I thought I had feelings for him a while ago but I think I was just confused."

You nodded and turned to look her in the eyes. "He hadn't mentioned you for months though, so when did you find out you were pregnant? How far along are you?" You eyes went straight to her stomach, already protruding from her slender frame. "About 12-15 weeks so far. Although, can I tell you something that's a secret? The baby really isn't Danny's. I know who the father is, but Danny hurt me. This was the only way I knew how to get him back. Even though he's with her he's still in my life."

Her words made you feel guilty. You had kept her around and it was a horrible thing you could've done. You had to tell Danny. But you didn't know how.

Y/N POV

Danny had you pinned to the wall and was kissing down your neck and chest when his phone rang. You reached into his back pocket and pulled his phone out, seeing as it was Sam calling you answered, letting Daniel continue to have his moment.

"Hello Sammy boy!"

"Hey Y/N, is Dan there? There's something I have to tell him."

"Yea he's here, just a little...busy"

Sam sighed into the phone before saying "Just get him over here as soon as possible please. It's kinda urgent. And it has to do with Nikki"

You hung up the phone and pulled Danny's face up to look at you. "We gotta go to Sammy's Baby. Something is going on with Nikki." He nodded and got the both of you out of the door as quickly as possible. The only thing on his mind was that she was having complications with the pregnancy. The drive was short and silent. You knew he was panicking but trying to be calm. You reached over and placed a hand on his thigh. "It'll be okay. Everything is gonna be okay my love. I promise"

He turned into Sam's driveway and had his jeep stopped and was on Sammy's porch in a matter of seconds before he let himself in. You walked in behind him and saw Nikki sitting on one of the stools by the kitchen island. She had been crying. Sam was on the opposite side of the kitchen leaning against the counter with his arms crossed.

"Tell them. Tell both of them exactly what you told me." He had a touch of coldness in his voice. You'd never seen Sam this upset at anyone, he was so full of love and understanding for all.

Nikki sat up straight but was unable to look anyone in the eyes. "I don't think I should. I don't want to hurt anyone." Sam rolled his eyes and chewed on the inside of his cheek. "You should've thought about that when you told me that the baby wasn't even Daniel's."

Her eyes shot up and went straight to Sam's face but you stood there frozen. "Sam, tell me this is a sick joke." You heard Danny's voice in a new way. You'd never heard or seen him upset, aside from the few times Sam had annoyed him enough that he would raise his voice a tiny bit but never too loud.

"The baby isn't yours. She knows who the real father is and thought this was the best way to keep you in her life. She went so far as to tell me to keep it a secret but I thought you should know right away."

You watched as Daniel clenched his fists and took in a deep breath. "What the fuck were you thinking? Did you really think that my best friend wouldn't tell me? You of all people know I'm definitely not ready for kids. I want to at least be married to Y/N before I think about children."

The sentence brought a light blush to your cheeks, but this was most definitely not the time to ask him about it. You made a mental note to ask at a later time. Nikki started sobbing harder and pleading for forgiveness. "Please Danny! Forgive me please! You walked out on me when I thought I loved you and I need you!"

"Get out. Get out. Get out. Get the fuck out of my life! I don't want you and you know that! Get out and stay away!" He screamed at her and it frightened you. You looked at Sam with wide eyes, his equally as wide. Neither of you had ever heard Daniel yell aside from when he was being playful, which was most certainly not the case at this current moment. The three of you watched as Nikki got up and ran to the door, turning to look back at Daniel.

"GO!", Sam told her, his voice stern. She slammed the door behind her making you flinch. "Bird, I'm sorry you saw me upset. I need time to myself right now, I'll be back soon. I love you." You nodded and hugged him gently before watching him walk out the door.

taglist:

@profitofthedune @sunflwerfangirl @gvf23 @rainy-darling

[open-your-heart-and-your-eyes]

BIPOC PEOPLE IN THE ROCK MUSIC INDUSTRY

Post inspired by, and is an extension of this lovely post about POC emo icons by @rpf-bat. If I get anything wrong, please feel free to correct me. I’m going to try to keep the bios relatively short and sweet so I don’t write an entire essay. All my information was found from Google/Spotify search results or my pre-existing knowledge. Feel free to DM me for specific sources. Fair Use for educational purposes, no copywright infringement intended.

Acrassicauda: Iraqi metal band from Baghdad. Andy Capper and Gabi Sifre wrote Heavy Metal in Baghdad: The Story of Acrassicauda about the band’s formation and their fight to be able to play the music they love.

Booboo Stewart (Vic Lakota from The Relentless in Paradise City and American Satan, Seth Clearwater from The Twilight Saga: Eclipse, Jay from Disney’s Descendants, among many others): Blackfoot, Korean, Chinese, and Japanese.

Tom Morello (Rage Against The Machine, Audioslave, The Nightwatchman): biracial- Kenyan and white (quick side note: Morello has a bachelor’s degree in political science from Harvard, which I thought was really cool).

The HU: Mongolian metal band. They’ve worked with the likes of Jacoby Shaddix of Papa Roach (The Wolf’s Totem), Lzzy Hale of Halestorm (Song of Women), and Danny Case of From Ashes to New (Yuve Yuve Yu).

Jose “The Metal Ambassador” Mangin (radio personality/host and interviewer, Sirius XM): Mexican-American. Is often hosting on Sirius XM Octane and Liquid Metal.

Meet Me @ The Altar: Pop punk trio made up entirely of BIPOC musicians Edith Johnson (Black), Téa Campbell (Black), and Ada Juarez (Latinx). Three of their popular songs are Hit Like a Girl, Feel a Thing, and Garden.

Nandi Bushell: Zulu and white. The twelve year-old drummer has collaborated with Roman Morello, Tom Morello, Jack Black, and Greta Thunberg on Roman’s song The Children Will Rise Up! She has also played with the likes of Dave Grohl of Foo Fighters, Roger Taylor of Queen, Ringo Starr of The Beatles, and Matt Helders of The Arctic Monkeys (and likely more that I’m missing).

Joe Hahn (Linkin Park, Mr. Hahn): Korean-American. The man behind the band’s turntables and keyboard. Linkin Park’s Cure for The Itch on their album Hybrid Theory (2000) specifically highlights Hahn on the turntables within the first minute.

Ayron Jones: African-American. Jones is gaining traction in the scene. Two songs of his I’d like to note are Spinning Circles and Mercy from his 2021 album Child of the State. He has toured with the likes of Shinedown (and makes a hilarious feature in one of the band’s Tiktoks) and will tour with The Pretty Reckless and Black Stone Cherry this year.

BIPOC ICONS

Chuck Berry (The Chuck Berry Trio, Sir John’s Trio) Black. Widely successful, influential singer and guitarist known for Johnny B. Goode, You Can Never Tell, and No Particular Place To Go. Berry’s legacy is still deeply felt in his contemporaries today.

Prince (Prince and The Revolution, “The Artist Formerly Known as Prince,” 3rdeyegirl, Madhouse, 94 East, The Family) Black. Groundbreaking, inventive, and androgynous artist known for hits like When Doves Cry and Purple Rain. Prince has also written songs for others like Sinead O’Connor (Nothing Compares 2 U) and The Bangles (Manic Monday).

Jimi Hendrix (The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Band of Gypsys, Kings of Rhythm, Jimmy James and The Blue Frames): Black and Cherokee. Acknowledged by many to be one of the greatest (if not the greatest) guitarists of all time.

Slash (Guns N’ Roses, Velvet Revolver, Spinal Tap, Road Crew, and entirely too many others to list): biracial- Nigerian and white. He’s the guitarist for Guns N Roses, whose hits include (but are not limited to) Welcome to The Jungle and Sweet Child O’ Mine. He joined his bandmates of Guns N’ Roses Duff McKagan and Matt Sorum in the early 2000s to form Velvet Revolver, recruiting Scott Weiland of Stone Temple Pilots for vocals. He continues to release music, especially with Myles Kennedy of Myles Kennedy and the Conspirators and Alter Bridge (see Driving Rain).

Robert Trujilo (Metallica, Suicidal Tendencies, Mass Mental, Infectious Grooves): Mexican and unspecified Native American descent. Trujilo replaced Jason Newsted as guitarist for Metallica, starting as a full time recording member with St. Anger (2003).

Carlos Santana (Santana): Mexican-born Latinx. A legendary guitarist, Santana’s song Smooth featuring Matchbox Twenty’s Rob Thomas is still an incredibly popular hit to this day. A prolific part of the song is Santana’s guitar work at the beginning of and throughout the song. The riff is considered to rather iconic to rock music as a genre.

Freddie Mercury (Queen): Indian Parsi, born in Zanzibar. Mercury is also considered to be an LGBTQIA+ icon by many. He was a groundbreaking and charismatic performer (not to mention his prolific appearance and fashion). His absolute powerhouse of a voice behind Queen’s innumerable hits like Bohemian Rhapsody, We Will Rock You, and We Are The Champions earned Mercury a deity-like status in both the music industry and pop culture as a whole. He continues to influence and inspire many in the decades since his death.

To all my BIPOC beauties/handsome people:

You exist in this industry. You belong. Do not let anyone in this scene erase or invalidate you.

[cowboycakes]

hey sheppie, can you tell me some things you love about johnny joestar 🎤

finn. you shouldn't have asked (yes i'm going to tell you so many things i love about johnny. thank you for asking i love you i squealed when i saw this.) but, like, don't feel obliged to read this. i am in love with him. i am obsessed with him. you've been warned.

tw: my opinion and my own (dumb, prob wrong) interpretation of johnny is in here. like lowkey johnny discourse. this post is kinda sad too. mentions of mental illness and (jjba canon) violence/death. also me gushing about johnny obviously.

SBR SPOILERS!!!!!!

#. johnny is so beautiful. like he has the most breathtaking face ever (esp in official art and towards the end of sbr. official art of johnny is what broke the camels back and made me watch jjba.)

#. prettiest when he cries.

#. i relate to him, and his character makes me feel less alone. he's sad and i am too. it was refreshing to see a male character feeling emotional and defeated and explicitly showing it instead of keeping a straight face. i enjoyed seeing a character who feels perpetually guilty and seeing how that guilt intrudes his mind constantly, to the point that his guilt physically follows him around (as danny the mouse.) he's ashamed and he hates himself. and every time he'd break down from said guilt and shame and self hatred, i would be like "no! its not your fault! don't cry!" and that helped me reflect on my own life... sometimes life hands you shit cards, but that doesn't make you deserving of it. and the human spirit is still built to overcome it. johnny reminds me of all of that.

#. cowboy! yee haw!

#. i love his storyline. i loved how much backstory araki let us see (though reading that shit was painful.) and i love love love johnny's monologues throughout SBR, especially how his narration at the beginning parallels his narration at the end. way to crush my soul.

#. i know he's kinda framed to have "righteous" goals... but imo he's amoral and most of what he does is out of self-interest, and i like that about him. only time he breaks away from that mindset is when someone he cares about is in question.

#. he's a nervous lil guy. i like nervous guys.

#. kissable face. cutie patootie wanna snuggle him. he just looks like he's good at cuddling and he's lowkey wearing jammies. the other day my irl friend was like "johnny looks like he's wearing a onesie" and that's kinda right. his clothes look soft i wanna put them on.

#. he’s got the hottest poses sorry i don’t make the rules. he's always arching his back n spreading his legs n shit

#. we are both horse girls.

#. he's OP as fuck. AND he's willing to throw everything away and sacrifice himself to achieve his goals, which was extremely exciting to watch. like every fight scene with johnny in it had me so hype. like the FUCKING SCENE WHERE JESUS SHOWS UP AND JOHNNY USES HIS NAIL BULLETS ON HIMSELF. one of my fav scenes ever.

#. LOOKS SEXY WHEN HE'S MAD <3333 and when he's not mad he's just being cute. he's so damn cute.

#. hates the american government.

#. dude's kinky!

#. i love his relationship with gyro. canonically, i don't know what it is. i do believe they loved one another, like so so much. i think they had what love is at its core: devotion, loyalty, sacrifice. and they both had goals consuming them the whole time, but their love for one another ultimately outlived those goals, and johnny's love for gyro outlived gyro himself. the way that gyro's last thoughts were of protecting johnny, the way johnny prayed for gyro's safety and it was all in vain, the way johnny ended up carrying the wrong corpse "home." all of it is absolutely gut wrenching and i cry about it daily and it makes me love johnny's character even more.

#. i love his sarcasm and deadpan expressions

#. HE WEARS BLUE LIPSTICK N BLUE NAILS ARE U KIDDING ME!!

#. TUSK!!!!! tusk. the cutest ever. that's my baby. and the way Tusk is named after a song from my favorite band... Araki did that for me and only me. i love that tusk evolved as johnny's character developed. i love how johnny freaked out when tusk first appeared. like dude chill that's just a little pink guy.

#. i love his name. jawny.

#. johnny showed concern for lucy when barely anyone else did. and lucy deserves the world. so.

#. stupid little hat with stupid little hair horns

#. fat booty.

[sweetluxe]

Keeping Up  With Journey James “Episode 2″

Journey met up with her good friend, Maliyah to catch up. I Imagine this about 2 weeks after the robbery.

Previous | Next

Maliyah: Girl, tell me what’s been up with you. You aint text me back in a week. And you know if you aint texting me Naomi is. I swear that girl is something with all them damn siggas she been fucking.

Journey: I’ve been focusing on my self you know.....

Maliyah: *rolls eyes* girl be so forreal... I know Kasey stretching it out everyday. 

(Maliyah rolls her hips and laughs)

Journey: Nah girl, fuck him and that weak ass dick.

Maliyah: Girl what? Shit what he do? Siggas always messing up I swear.

Journey: I was robbed....

Maliyah: WHAT!?

Journey: Yes girl, and that sigga was there.

Maliyah: So wait, he robbed you!? I thought he was point guard for the San Myshuno Flyers? Don’t he got money?

Journey: No, but he might as well have because when that robber came in he ran away. 

Maliyah: OH HELL NAH... Girl what did you do?

Journey: What else could I do but fight that bitch myself.

Maliyah: No way Journey James was actually in a fight. I know you were robbed and all but I'd pay good money to see that. Remember in 10th grade when that girl Mimi wanted to fight you over Malik Wiggs and I had to step in...

Journey: Well girl I beat that robbing ass bitch up... do you see any scratches on my face? and she had a gun.

Maliyah: A GUN!? Girl you should of called me you know I'm always packing especially when I'm in this city. I’ve been waiting to use this baby on the right hoe.

(Maliyah reaches behind her back to pull out her gun which is tucked into her skirt)

Journey: Girl if you don’t put that away.... (Journey looks around incase someone saw) this isnt Willow Creek. I ain’t know u had that back there.

Maliyah: That’s the point bitch... unless you looking at this thick ass booty.

(Journey and Maliyah both laugh)

Maliyah: Did she take anything?

Journey: Yeah my washing machine and bed... like girl my bed really? She must of knew it was expensive because she took my silk sheets too.

Maliyah: *laughing* oh no, not the silk sheets.

Journey: Don’t be hating...

Maliyah: I aint because you obviously don't got them now.

(Maliyah laughs again)

Journey: I’ve been staying with my neighbor Danny for about a week now.

Maliyah: On his couch?

Journey: You know I don't do couches.

Maliyah: Oh so you in his bed? You and Naomi just alike.

Journey: Nah girl its just... I like being held at night and he even makes me breakfast every morning.

Maliyah: Damn, he sounds like hubby material already. Why you even fucking with that scary ass sigga Kasey when you got him next door?

(Journey hesitates)

Journey: Honestly, I don’t know. I met them at the same time but I guess it just happened with Kasey. Danny even helped me get my apartment.

Maliyah: Girl... I’m not even trying to me funny right now but your daddy issues are showing.

Journey: Yeah I know...

Maliyah: What has Kasey done for you again? From what I'm hearing he probably asked you to be his girl and you said yes because you know if you say no he’s just gonna move on to the next bitch he probably already has lined up.

(Journey sighs)

Maliyah: Mhm yep, that’s them daddy issues fucking you up. To be honest, I rather see you by yourself then with a sigga that’ll run away at the sight of danger.

(Journey and Maliyah continue their conversation until the evening)

Journey: Thanks for the chat girl. I gotta go, give me a hug.

Maliyah: I go to go too. Be safe. Imma watch you walk home.

Journey: Girl, I live right there I'll be fine.

Maliyah: Nah they be crazy around here at night. Imma have my hand on my gun the whole time.

(Journey laughs while walking away)

Journey: Girl bye.

(Danny hits up Journey at 8:00pm)

Danny: Did you go back home? I made dinner😕

Journey: Yea, my new bed frame and mattress came in so I wanted to set it up. Sorry. 

Danny: No problem, I’ll come over to help. Just let me change out of my work clothes.

Journey: I already got it set up thanks though

Danny: I’ll just bring dinner over then. I made Italian meatballs... I’m the furthest from being Italian but there pretty damn good even Cairo wanted some.😋

Journey: You enjoy. I have some stuff to take care of but I'll text u later.

Danny: Why are you blowing me off???

(5 mins later)

Danny: Journey?

(Journey gets a texted from Kasey at 10:23 pm)

Kasey: OMG BABY ARE YOU OK!? I’ve been trying to call you everyday my phone has been off, please call me back.

Journey:...Hello?

Kasey: Are you hurt? Please tell me you ok....

Journey: I’m fine. Why didn’t you come to see me if you phone is off?

Kasey: Baby, I’ve been busy I'm sorry. I’ll explain everything just come over tomorrow.

Journey:...

[tripthelight-fanfic]

Love Of My Life (Sam Kiszka Imagine)

Taglist:  @flowervanfleet @weightofdreams-gvf @sierraahhhh @jakekiszska​ @amourleger @ageofsewingmachine@theweightofstardust @samkiszkabreakmyback @prettyintopeerpressure @greta-flanveet  @fosterkidwiththebrokenjaw​ @the-chaotic-cow​ @ghostly-luck​ @mywaysooon​ @tlexx​​ @screechesincoherently​ and potentially you, just lmk!

shit taglist calm down u don’t gotta yell I’m right here

Warning(?): Angst, mentions of and allusions to domestic violence but NOBODY IS ACTUALLY IN DANGER AT ANY POINT

Request: Absolutely loving your work! If you’re taking requests rn - could you write a reader x sam fic where Jake and josh are having one of their famous fights and Sam gets caught in the middle? Some classic angst hurt/comfort lol

(A/N): Okay, again, this is probably not what the anon had in mind when they requested this, but I feel like the obvious choice for this req I’ve seen done before, but what I haven’t seen in this fandom is a fic like this. I could definitely see Sam as the least able to keep his anger under control in the group (no real evidence to support this theory, I just feel like it makes sense for his impulsive character). So, I’ve decided to frame this fic as Sam coming home raging mad after a studio session and he frightens Y/N enough to make her hide from him. This is probably the most angsty thing I’ve written, just a fair warning. There will be brief mentions of Y/N growing up in a chaotic household, but I’m not gonna get too into that because that’s not really what this fic is about. 

Anyway anon I hope you still enjoy this fic, even if it’s not quite what you had in mind.

***************************

Love Of My Life

Danny had sent you a warning text that Sam was on his way home in a bit of a mood, but you were about to see that he had made the understatement of the century on that one.

You were making two cups of tea when you heard his car pull into the garage. Usually hot tea and soft hugs were enough to relieve Sam’s tension from a particularly grueling day with his brothers.

But today he was a little more than just tense.

You jumped slightly as the front door opened and slammed shut. You turned around to greet your boyfriend as he stormed into the kitchen where you were standing, two mugs of tea in hand.

“Hey darli-“

“I can’t fucking stand them sometimes!” He spit over your greeting.

He rested his hands on the counter, stiffly propping up his upper body against the kitchen island. You set the mugs down and cautiously stepped forward to place a hand on his shoulder, “What happened?” You cooed at him.

You jumped back a bit as his hands flew up in exasperation, “Oh my God, they just fucking challenge everything I have to say! It’s like I’m still just a little fucking twelve year old to them, like I’m still just their kid brother who they have to teach everything to! I’m just fucking sick of this dynamic.”

You winced at the venom in his voice, trying to will your heart rate to stop increasing instinctually in response. “They do respect you, Sam. Even if it doesn’t feel that way sometimes.” You mumbled out, reaching behind you to grab the mug of tea you made him and pushing it across the counter toward him. You were keeping your distance from this new, volatile Sam in front of you.

Sam scoffed in return, reaching for the mug in front of him. He would thank you later, you knew he would, when he had gotten whatever this was out of his system. “Yeah, sure. Jake still thinks he taught me everything I know about music, don’t even get me started on Josh. I’m getting so tired of his goddamn god complex. They just start going at each other and then when I try to step in, they both just turn on me!” He angrily spit out before taking a tense sip from his tea that was supposed to be relieving said tension.

You didn’t really know what to say. He obviously knew more about the band’s dynamic than you, and clearly telling him any different wasn’t going to get you anywhere, so you settled on a weak, “I’m sorry.”

Sam took another sip of the tea before propping his elbows onto the counter and resting his head in his hands, groaning quietly.

That is, until you heard his phone vibrate on the counter. You crossed over to the other side to check the notification, and your stomach tightened when you read it.

“Who is it?” He leaned his head up to look at you expectantly, lips still pulled taught in frustration.

You gulped slightly as you read the text again.

Jake

You better come back tomorrow with a better attitude. We’re not wasting any more studio time just because you’re throwing tantrums like a baby

You knew this wasn’t going to bode well with the mood Sam was already in, but you had little choice but to gingerly hand Sam his phone.

He leaned back off the counter to read the text, holding his mug of tea in his other hand. You watched his eyebrows knit and his chest begin to rise and fall rapidly in fury. You took a few steps back, inching toward the door to yours and Sam’s shared bedroom. You had a terrible feeling in your stomach that something bad was about to happen.

And you were right. After a moment of still silence, Sam let out a scream of anguish and sent the mug full of hot tea flying into the wall on the other side of the kitchen. It shattered upon impact, sending bits of ceramic and tea flying all over the surrounding area. Your hands instinctively flew up to protect your face and you let out a fearful yelp, fight or flight officially activated.

And, as per usual, you immediately chose flight as you staggered back into the bedroom behind you, quickly shutting the door.

Alone in the room, hearing Sam continue to hit his fists against the counter, you still somehow didn’t feel secure enough. You turned around to your closet on the other side of the room and scrambled over to sit at the base of it, pulling the door closed behind you. Two doors between you felt safe enough.

Wait, safe enough?

You took a moment to realize what was happening. You had grown up in what could be considered a pretty chaotic household. Your parents were the kind that were too stubborn to get the divorce they so clearly needed, so they often took out their pent-up frustration with each other in the form of screaming matches and, yes, sometimes breaking things. Whenever this would happen you would gather your younger siblings and lock yourselves in the upstairs bathroom, turning on the vent fan in effort to drown out the noise and whispering reassuring words to them.

What’s worse, Sam knew this. You had confided in him after a particularly intense scene in a movie you had been watching triggered a panic attack during a date.

You hugged your knees into your chest and let the tears stream down your face as your chest heaved heavy but ultimately futile breaths.

You didn’t notice the kitchen fall silent outside of the bedroom. Sam stood there, finally realizing he was alone, and his ears pricked up to hear the ever-so-faint sounds of your muffled whimpers and breaths. Reality came crashing down on him like a pile of bricks. He looked down at his hands, and then over at the wall where there was a wet splotch from the tea making impact. His eyes trailed over the ceramic fragments and the puddles of tea littered across your kitchen.

And suddenly he felt all the anger drain right out of him, only to be replaced by a bone-crushing guilt.

He gently approached the bedroom door, easing it open slowly until he realized you weren’t in the room. His brows furrowed for a moment in confusion until he heard a particularly strained breath come from… the closet?

He could all but feel his heart break in half and sink into his stomach as he heard you cry into your sleeve, muffled by the door between you.

You were right, he knew all about your familial baggage, and your tendency to run and hide from things that scare you. And that’s what you were doing right now. You were running and hiding from him, because he had scared you into the very state he had talked you down from so many times. And now he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that this time, because for the first time, he was the source of your pain.

And while you hugged your own body and rocked back and forth on the floor of the closet, Sam’s own hands began to shake as he retreated from the room, making sure to audibly close the door behind him so that you knew you were safe again.

From him.

Sam winced at his own thought and the force brought tears of his own down onto his face. He couldn’t believe he had done this to you. He had always had a problem with managing his anger, but when he was around the boys it didn’t matter if he blew up and broke something. He had never considered the way the dynamic would shift if it happened in front of you, and now he was so disgusted with himself he could throw up. 

Instead, he settled for quietly cleaning up the mess he made while his lip trembled, beating himself up mercilessly in his head. He might as well have slapped you across the face with how much he hated himself in that moment. He hadn’t even thanked you for the tea. You were always so caring to him and this was what he gave you in return.

When he finished, he could still hear you crying in the next room. It sounded as though your panic attack had receded a bit, but it didn’t make him feel any better to hear it replaced with genuine cries of sorrow. He could only imagine the thoughts racing through your head.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He had to do something, before he lost you completely to his rash actions.

His eyes landed on his acoustic guitar mounted on the wall, and an idea hatched in his brain.

Meanwhile, over in the closet, conditions hadn’t really improved. You had heard Sam open the bedroom door and you were ashamed to say that, for the first time, Sam’s presence didn’t instill comfort in you. Quite the opposite. You froze and tried to hold your breath to avoid being found, until you were forced to take in a big breath after a few moments. You heard him leave again and even more tears poured out of you.

How could he do this to you? You couldn’t be with a man like this. Not after years of watching your mother deal with this kind of temper, only to form her own complementary one as a result. You started shaking your head profusely to nobody in particular at the thought. You had never once compared Sam to your father, you never had reason to. But now, you couldn’t unsee it. And it scared the shit out of you.

However, you were pulled out of your state of despair by the sound of the door opening again minutes later. You couldn’t help but freeze again, quieting your sobs to gentle sniffles as you heard bare feet gently padding across the wooden floor. You heard something that sounded like glass placed on the floor, followed by the flick of a lighter. Huh?

You watched the shadow fall under the crack of the door as Sam came to a cross-legged seated position just outside of your closet. You heard him clear his throat and you wrapped your arms tighter around yourself as you waited for him to start speaking.

But he didn’t. Instead, he started strumming. You jumped a bit in surprise, not expecting the guitar. But you welcomed it, trying to focus only on the music instead of the boy who was playing it and everything else that was clouding your mind. The melody sounded familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it until you heard Sam begin to sing softly.

“Love of my life, you've hurt me

You've broken my heart

And now you leave me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me”

Warmth spread across your chest as you realized he was playing “Love Of My Life,” one of your favorite Queen songs. You hadn’t recognized it on guitar instead of the original piano, but your heart softened at the idea of Sam learning how to play it for you in a more easily accessible way. Your grip loosened around yourself as you closed your eyes and leaned against the doorframe, closer to Sam’s voice.

“Love of my life, don't leave me

You've taken my love

And now desert me

Love of my life, can't you see?

Bring it back, bring it back

Don't take it away from me

Because you don't know

What it means to me”

Sam rarely sang. Even for you. He would much rather play the vocal melody on whatever instrument he was playing, or better yet, let you sing while he played. Usually you really had to coax it out of him, and you supposed in a way you had. You could hear the hoarseness in his voice and your chest tightened back up a bit when you realized he had been crying as well.

“You will remember

When this is blown over

And everything's all by the way

When I grow older

I will be there at your side

To remind you how I still love you

I still love you”

His voice started faltering midway through the bridge. You could feel the intention he was putting into the lyrics, and by the end his voice was clouded by the tears he was holding back. You couldn’t sit and listen to it anymore.

He had stopped strumming when you slowly opened the closet door. There, you saw the heartbreaking sight of Sam, sitting against the bed next to a lavender candle, guitar in his lap as he sobbed quietly into his hands. You crawled out from the space and tore the guitar out from his lap, tossing it up onto the bed behind him before crawling into the space it had occupied.

Sam’s arms immediately latched around you tightly and he cried into your shoulder. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t leave me I’m so sorry.” He blubbered into you.

You couldn’t help but start crying again as well. “No, Sam I overreacted, I-“

Sam squeezed you even tighter, if possible, as if you would disappear into a mist at any moment. “You didn’t, I overreacted. I should’ve never- oh my God I’m so sorry I did this to you. Sometimes I just don’t think before I act, and it’s not okay. I never wanted to be the reason you’re afraid.” He pressed a hand against the back of your head, pressing you further into him as you snaked your hands around his torso to embrace him back.

“Sam…”

But he wasn’t finished. “I’m not like him. I know that’s what you’ve been thinking and, God, it’s all I’ve been thinking too, but I’m not. I refuse to be. I would never put you through that, I… it hurts too bad.” He whimpered.

You pulled away slightly to look him in the eye. His swollen red eyes matched yours and you took a moment to thumb away his tears as you cradled his face in your hands. “You’re not like him. You’re not. He never showed any remorse, Sammy. He wasn’t sorry. You’re different from him.”

He heaved a shaky sigh and looked down. “I’m going to fix this. I am. I’m gonna learn how to control my anger. I promise. I don’t want to do this to you. I love you too much.” He pressed a trembling kiss onto your forehead and you leaned into his touch.

“I love you too, Sammy. So much.” You mumbled, looping your arms around him again and rubbing soothing circles into his back. “I’m sorry for making you cry after your hard day.”

Sam’s head dropped onto your shoulder and he let out another shaky breath. “Please stop apologizing. I am the only person at fault here. I’m sorry for ruining your otherwise perfectly fine day... And the mug... Thank you for making me tea, by the way.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort into his chest. You didn’t know why you found it so funny, but you had completely forgotten about the tea he didn’t thank you for. You looked up at him with a small smile and murmured, “Yeah, sorry it didn’t calm you down like I thought it would.”

Sam looked up and heaved a sigh, before looking back down at you with the smallest of smiles curling at his lips. “I thought I just told you no more apologizing.”

You nodded and hummed to yourself, leaning back against Sam’s chest, “Hmmm, okay, then I’m not sorry and you owe me a new mug you fucker.”

That got a laugh out of him. He tightened his arms around you and rocked you back and forth a few times before murmuring, “I’ll buy you a mug made out of solid gold if you’ll look past this incident.”

You chuckled against him. “I don’t need a golden mug, I just need you to not break anything else.”

He pressed a kiss onto your hairline and rested his chin on top of your head, “You have my word, Y/N. Nothing else gets broken, including and especially you.”

Your heart fluttered at his words and you believed him. He was truly distraught by how he had made you feel, something you had never seen once in your father. And you smiled, nestling yourself deeper into Sam’s arms, feeling safe in his presence once again.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

-------

Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

[corpseglider]

mirror by @yamihere004​

synopsis: you and corpse, together through thick and thin (submitted post)

pairing: corpse husband x s/o!reader (gn)

tw: broken objects (mirrors, glasses), slight mentions of blood

☁️ directory

“U-um guys I want to take a break I will join back when I am done,” Corpse said while muting himself on discord and stream, took off his headphones and sighed loudly.

You looked up from your laptop in concern. “Corpse?” you asked softly, “Is everything alright?”

“No shit,” he muttered, “I am going to the bathroom.”

Concerned about your boyfriend, you headed to his setup and read through the stream chat.

Again and again, most were asking Corpse about when he will be doing a face reveal, and asking about his past, same questions.

You sighed in disbelief. They never understood him. Showing anything about him was out of his comfort zone. It took him 2 hours to post his first ‘hand pic’. Him blowing up online and getting popular on the Internet had been bothering him for a least a month already and you were worried about his health since the start.

I should probably go check on him, you thought as you walked out of the room, heading to the bathroom quietly.

But then you heard sniffles. A yell. Then a crash of glass. A scream.

“NO! No, no, no… I can’t, I can’t-” 

You rushed into the bathroom, opening the door with a bang. 

Corpse just curled up and sat on the floor, face in his bleeding hands, shards of mirror fell around him, reflecting light everywhere. His eyepatch flung across the room.

He broke the bathroom mirror.

You kneel down next to him, pushing the shards away from you two carefully. Slowly, he raised his head to look at you, tears welling up in his eyes.

You pulled him into your embrace, slowly running your hand through his curly hair. Your small frame held his large frame close to your chest.

“Don’t hold it back, Corpse,” you comforted him quietly, “let it out. I am here now, you’re safe.”

Started with the tiny whimpers against you, he started shaking vigorously, and the sobs came. He screamed and cried, and boy did he cry. Your heart broke seeing him so vulnerable. You would kill anyone who dared harm him in any way. You held him close, letting him cry it all out, mumbling sweet nothings to him.

After quite a while he finally calmed down, he mumbled something against your chest. “Hmm?” you asked softly. “I am not a person that people should look up to,” he mumbled, pulling away. Looking at his bleeding fingers, he whispered, “I am a mess…”

You stood up to grab the first aid kit and guided Corpse to sit on the toilet counter, pushing the glass shards away from him.

“People have been asking about you face again right,” you said, cleaning cuts on his knuckles.

“I do not like my face. At all. I am nothing close to pretty or sexy. I’m just-” he looked back to you, unsure about what to say.

“You.” you completed the sentence for him. After all, you had been hearing this statement for over twenty times at night talking to him.

He let out a quiet hiss as the alcohol glazed through one of the deeper cuts and you let out a short apology.

“Isn’t it great though?” you asked. “You are being you. You cannot be replaced by anyone else boo.”

“It hurts to see my face like this, with dark circles around my eyes and shit. And people still ask questions about my face.” He muttered. “I looked so shitty and I lost it and broke the mirror.” He confessed shyly.

You looked back to him and smiled briefly. “It’s alright. I will clean the room after I clean you up. It has been a while since you had a breakdown, we should call it an improvement yeah?”

He nodded and watched you focus on bandaging his hands up. He was in awe. You never saw him as a mess he thought he was. He loved you, and you loved him.

“How did I even end up finding you?” He mumbled, and you hummed back in response. “I couldn’t even reply to my friends’ texts properly or take my meds normally on time and there’s you. Like an angel. Guarding my ugly messy ass. I don’t deserve you.”

You gasped at him, tears welling up in your eyes. Grabbing a black rose from the vase at the corner of the counter, you slipped it behind his ear slowly and pushed a strand of hair away from his face. You held his large hands with your smaller ones and said to him,

“I am the one who doesn’t deserve you, my sweet angel.”

You leaned in with your tippy toes and pecked him on his forehead, and you both closed your eyes to treasure the moment.

Corpse looked up to you and cupped your face. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You smiled, “I am your guardian angel after all. Now let’s get you back onto the floor, yeah?”

You watched him carefully slid back onto the floor and slowly walked towards the door like a child. He looked back at you, waiting for you to come along with him.

“Let me clean your eyepatch first boo,” you reminded him as you reached for it and washed it in the sink.

“Ohh yeah the stream is still going,” he realised, “oh no…”

“You will be fine,” you reassured him as you helped him put on his eyepatch, keeping the rose on his ear, “the fans will understand. You needed a break.”

“Stay?” He asked you, pouting, as you have arrived back in front of his computer.

“Always, darling.” You pulled up a chair next to him and held his hand while he continued the stream, chatting back happily to his friends telling them he was okay now, and everything is fine.

“I’m good now, my guardian angel is here.” He looked at you smiling as he took your hand and gave it a kiss.

Illness and welfare might have taken his adolescence away, but you were going to make sure he would have the best part of it with you, even if it was a few years late.

☁️ taglist

@weeblyheaux @sicnesa @shinyyoonie @propertyofdindjarin @locallolli @meiiyue @agustdpeach @cupicchino @reddeserths @the0nlychrissy @sunset-d-rive @annshit @brynaven3552 @sloppycoochie-com @literallyobsessedfandoms @inkhearthes @danny-devitowo @moneybagmara @susceptible-but-siriusexual @wildflowerwhore @im-slowly-dying-but-its-okay @hartsyvibes @arghm8ty @buckyluvrs @simpforsimka @harryscurls21 @sucker-for-my-fandoms @95lover @princezukohere @arossebyanyothername @letsloveimagines @unknown-and-invisible @emmapotato88 @babyhoneystvles @havehope2k16 @bbybarness @leilanixx @rd-crew @sunnsettee @baby-jichu @yoongi-holland @teenloves @xaestheticalien @yongboxerrr @simonsbluee @cherry-piee @jules-and-gemss @11116i @pinkrosezx @whathasateezdonetome @atsumubabe @xxkatgotyourtonguexx @mae-musicbitch @gday5sos @melmachh @janndishsstuff @sophiaedits @bombardia @iamsuchasimp @ecwashburn1129 @phoenixambers @wineandionysus @heartbroken-writer @eternalteaaars @undead-nyx @unwxtedxoxo @lauravic @main-feetoffthetable @mythicalamphitrite @ukiyolixx @strangenerdsstuff @sophiaedits @anyasthoughts @nightdayrenegade @corpse-mcyt @daviddobriksleftnut @carleywhittaker @vincent-stargogh @musicxliife @gr4ssie @a-damsel-butmakeitlesbian @laazullii @mkitrainhoe @hstylesphoto

[starlight-writes-stuff]

hi, do you think you could do another blurb for ethan? maybe something nsfw? like, a party hookup? im thinkin about fratboy!ethan 👁👄👁

(wc: 5.5k) pls im always thinking about fratboy ethan :,) but yes i can do this 100 % ! this ask prompted something deep in me and i ended up making a playlist to go with it as well 🤧here’s the link to that if ur interested https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4yXuVtAKBHexm5ifE9NQ2B ! A L S O i’m sorry this took forever to get to ,,,, life has been a lot recently lol . reblogs are always appreciated ! <3

AYO LOOK AT THESE ! : smut (obvious but still) , sex while under the influence (with explicit consent given) , softdom! ethan , marajuana use , alcohol use , unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it , plz) , swearing , college au , an unus annus reference if u look close enough , and i believe thats it . enjoy ! xoxoxoxo , starlight .

a little party never killed nobody

it was the exact same as every other college party you’d ever been to. shitty music, shittier alcohol, shittiest people- except for him. 

when ethan nestor had invited you to a frat party, you’d laughed in his face. you knew that he was a member of data data data, but he wasn’t the type that made it his whole personality. as far as you’d observed, he wasn’t the partying type, either, but there he was, texting you the house address.

“so you’ll come tonight? it’s going to be a pretty big thing- a lot of people coming. you should be able to walk right in, but if anyone gives you shit just tell them you’re with me,” he said, a slight smirk playing on his lips. you and ethan hadn’t been talking for long; technically, you hadn’t even known that he’d existed two weeks ago. 

when ethan had first sauntered up to you in physical sciences, that same smirk painting his face, you’d picked up on the underlying chemistry right away. he was a flirt by nature, but he seemed to play it up even more around you- the brunette boy had asked for your number the first day you met, and you’d been talking almost constantly since. he was funny and sweet and extremely charismatic, and he made your heart flip in your chest with the smallest glance. the two of you hadn’t hung out alone yet, so this party felt like a big deal.

or, at least, that's what you’d thought.

when you showed up at the front door of the frat house loud, bass-filled music was already shaking the window panes in their frames, and you could hear what sounded like a hundred different voices all talking over each other. ethan hadn’t been kidding when he said that it was a big party; at least half of your year was here, plus the older and younger students interspersed throughout the throngs of people as well. as you made your way to the kitchen, ethan was nowhere to be found. you felt as if all eyes were on you as you started to pour a drink, and dimly, you wondered if people could tell that you didn’t belong.

however, most of your anxious thoughts had been subdued after the first solo cup of vodka lemonade, and you were now well through your second. the music pounding throughout the house felt as if it had infiltrated your veins, filling them with a warm, buzzing sensation that loosened your limbs. at some point, a guy had come up to chat with you. then another. you weren't sure how many times you’d given out your snapchat tonight, but it had been a lot, and you were about to do it again. 

the guy you were currently talking to introduced himself as danny. he was some sort of business major, much like every other guy that you’d spoken with tonight, and was very clearly trying to hit on you. even through the alcohol-induced haze, you remembered who you came here for and you weren't leaving without him. you put a hand on danny’s shoulder, effectively cutting him off in the middle of his sentence.

“hey, do you know where ethan is? ethan nestor, i mean? he’s the one who invited me here.”

danny looked disappointed, but seemed to shift and slot puzzle pieces together in his head, snapping his fingers. “you're the girl he invited? that makes so much sense, actually. yeah, he’s out back- toking up, probably,” he explained, gesturing towards a door you would’ve never noticed. “out there and down the stairs. need an escort?”

you almost denied his advances but spotted an old fling loitering by the hidden door. giving danny a tight smile, you drained the rest of your drink and held up a finger. “one sec! stay here.”

butterflies flooded every inch of your being as you stumbled over to the makeshift bar, pouting a variety of liquors into your cup. you were going to see ethan outside of class. on his turf. something about it shook you to your core, but you couldn’t quite figure out why. 

sure, ethan was hot- that was obvious. but he’d been flirty, too. were the two of you a thing? if you weren’t, why had he been talking to danny about 'the girl he was inviting’? clearly, ethan had been talking about you, you just weren't sure of the context. you tried to swallow all these fears as you topped off your cup with lemonade, taking a small sip. trying not to spit it out, you added more juice; you’d made the strongest mixture you could think of, and it tasted like some sort of poison. that didn’t stop you from taking another small sip, then a bigger one. you needed the buzz.

“okay! let's go.”

danny led you out the door and down the stairs with no issue, and you quickly realized how tipsy you were - the stairs seemed to bob and warp under your feet, and you grabbed onto the handrail with a death grip. he noticed this easily, laughing a bit. “are you good?”

“great. it's the heels and alcohol- they don't mix well.” you laughed at yourself, regretting the chunky, heeled boots you’d thrown on.

“you can ditch them, if you want. we’re going out onto a deck, so you won't be in grass or anything,” danny explained, pointing to a pile of shoes by the door you were about to exit. you weren't going to argue with that, thankful that you’d chosen cute socks as you wrestled the footwear off and tossed it onto the pile. your stomach flipped as danny opened the door, cool night air biting into your warm skin, waking you up a bit. the sourish-sweet scent of marijuana flooded the small stairwell, and danny chuckled. “told you he was smoking.”

nothing could’ve prepared you for the way you felt watching ethan take a long drag off of some sort of pen, letting the vapor pour from his lips in pale blue plumes. something about the easy way the smoke seemed to float from his mouth went straight to your center, and you dug your nails into your palms, trying to get yourself under control. ethan finally realized that more people had joined the small crowd on the bench, and his heavy-lidded eyes seemed to light up as they roamed all over you lazily. this only furthered the sensation between your legs, the coils starting to tighten in your lower stomach. 

what the hell?

“y/n, you made it,” ethan said, a smile taking over his face. he quickly hopped down from where he’d been sitting on the guardrail and made his way over, wrapping an arm dangerously low around your waist. he hugged you tightly, making your heartbeat stutter as you squeezed him back.

you mumbled a ‘hello’ into his neck as ethan let his touch linger, your body held tightly to his. someone cleared their throat, conversation starting back up, and ethan reluctantly pulled away, dropping his eyes to yours. he kept a hand on the small of your back, sending electricity running up and down your spine. “having fun?”

you could barely talk as you forced yourself to respond. “yeah, lots. you’re a hard person to find.”

ethan grinned again, letting his head fall back as he laughed. “my bad. i thought you would text me when you got here. found someone to take care of you , though?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow. the facial expression did absolutely nothing for the situation building up under your skirt- only worsening your want for the tall boy in front of you. 

“who?”

ethan smirked, dropping his lips to your ear. “that's what i like to hear. you look pretty, y/n.”

the way he said your name practically undid you, ripping your self-control apart at the already weakened seams. you let a hand wander up and down one of ethan’s sculpted arms, outlining the planes of muscle through his hoodie as you crossed your legs; sure, it was the ladylike thing to do, but you were desperately looking for some sort of friction, anything to lessen the need for him.

“thank you.”

ethan nodded, the hand that had been perched on your back sliding over your hip before finding your hand. he laced his fingers into yours, and you were shocked at how forward he was being. the two of you had flirted heavily- and okay, maybe you’d sent some suggestive pictures back and forth- but ethan seemed to be claiming you as he led you over to the round table where all his friends were sat. again, you carved half-moons into your palms with your nails as you added up all the chairs- there wasn’t enough. you began to let go of ethan’s hand, ready to boost yourself onto the railing, but he gave your fingers a gentle squeeze. you watched as ethan settled into the overstuffed outdoor chair, gesturing at his lap.

fuck.

you took a brief moment to admire the mess you’d gotten yourself into before you gingerly sat on ethan’s lap, trying to make yourself as small and weightless as humanly possible. that didn’t last long, though. ethan circled an arm over your hips, pulling you onto his lap firmly. you couldn’t breathe as you settled into him, crossing your legs tightly. your lower body was tucked away, hidden under the table, but still. you tucked a small portion of fabric between your thighs, ensuring nothing would slip. 

you didn’t say much as ethan continued to conversate with his friends, passing the silvery, skinny device around the table. 

soon, the talk turned from school and classes to typical, stuttering stoner laughing; everyone besides ethan and danny seemed to be a complete lightweight, gone after one hit of the cartridge. however, both the boys were on at least their fourth hit and still seemed relatively composed. they’d started to talk about some sort of economic study, and you’d quickly grown bored and confused. after sitting through 10 more minutes of the terminology you didn't understand, you began to wiggle around on ethan’s lap, loosening his grip on you. 

at the same moment, you and ethan both shifted in just the right way, causing one of his legs to end up between both of yours just as your hips rolled forward. delicious friction flooded your system, and you bit down hard on your lower lip, trying to stifle a moan. you fought with everything in you not to rock your body again, sensation overwhelming your impulse control. before you could do anything, one of ethan’s large hands found your hips, squeezing just enough to leave fingerprint-shaped marks on your skin. ethan knew what he’d done- you could hear the satisfaction threaded through his voice.

“you okay? what d’you need?”

you tried to steady your voice, painfully conscious of the people around you. while most of ethan’s friends were high enough that they wouldn’t notice, you knew that danny would pick up on any changes in your demeanor. you swallowed hard before answering him.

“i'm gonna go get another drink.” another gentle squeeze practically lit your skin on fire, and ethan held the pen up to you. 

“wanna try this instead?”

you weren’t going to lie- you’d been a bit jealous of the boys, not even thinking of passing the device to you. with shaky hands, you reached to accept the cartridge, but ethan had different plans. a sinful look found its way into his slitted eyes as ethan held the pen up to your lips. “go ahead.”

you could’ve passed out from the command, the look, the way that he’d started to bounce his leg. it was as if he was trying to break you- like he wanted you to give him some sort of sign that you wanted him. you did, more than anything. desire seemed to curl its way into every inch, every cell of your body, its spurs digging into your skin. 

you met ethan’s eyes deliberately as you accepted the cold metal into your mouth, inhaling deeply. you took immense pleasure in the look that crossed ethans face as you pulled away with lungs full of the hazy drug. you held your breath for as long as possible before letting the vapor drift from your lips, just as ethan and done earlier. you watched his adam's apple bob as he swallowed hard, his eyes snapping off of yours and over to danny.

“i’m gonna take y/n to get a drink. watch them, will you?” he asked, gesturing to the rest of his friends. danny just nodded, mumbling a low ‘have fun’ as ethan practically lifted you off of his lap. adrenaline coursed through each and every one of your veins and ethan laced his fingers through yours, leading you inside. 

ethan barely let the door shut before his hands were on your hips, pinning you to the wall of the small stairwell. his lips met yours roughly, and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that had been building in your throat for the past hour. you felt ethan smirk at the soft noise before he bit at your lower lip, dragging the soft flesh between his teeth. again, you let out a whine full of pleasure- he just felt so good. you let your arms circle ethans neck, one of your hands knotting in his dark hair. you pulled at the roots gently as ethan’s tongue rolled against yours, your body entirely succumbing to him.

he forced himself to pull off of your body, and you let out a small whine; you’d been waiting on this. ethan smirked, his laugh coming out dark and much raspier than usual. “don’t worry doll, i'm not done with you yet. just can't have you here.”

the words went right through you, only adding to the ache between your thighs. ethan took your hand with a profound gentleness, and dropped a soft kiss on your forehead. “before this even starts, are you sure?” 

you nodded eagerly, getting up on your tiptoes to recapture his lips, but ethan pulled back. you furrowed your eyebrows at the tall boy, confused- until he brought a hand up to your face, holding your jaw. ethan tilted your head up, forcing you to meet his eyes. “i need words, baby. are you positive? i can-”

“so sure. i promise.” you nodded at him, your eyes never leaving his. “i want you.”

ethan swore under his breath and kissed you hard before leading you up the stairs. you started to feel the effects of the drug as ethan took you from kitchen to living room, up some stairs… you lost track of all the places you’d been, allowing the weed to cloud everything in a gauzy veil. you felt good; light and somehow heavy at the same time, and you enjoyed the way that everything seemed to slow down. finally, ethan opened a door and pulled you in behind him. you realised where you were- his room. it smelled like ethan, like citrus and musk and something you could only describe as boy. 

you let out a small giggle as ethan reached for a remote, colored lights dousing the room in a sultry red glow. “setting the mood?”

quickly, you were shut up in the best possible way. ethan kissed your roughly, all teeth and tongue and hands everywhere as he backed you against one of his walls. you let yourself get lost in him, basking in the warmth of your hunger for him. one of ethan’s cold hands made its way under your shirt, the other holding your jaw in place as he bit into your bottom lip once again, making you whine. 

“feel good?” ethan asked, breathlessly. you could hear the smirk in his voice, but you couldn’t help the way your back arched at the simple question. your nails dug into his shoulder as ethan slid his thumb under the band of your bra, and he let out a rough moan, managing to undo the clasp with one hand. ethan pulled away from you long enough to rid you of your shirt, discarding your bra on the floor as well while you practically ripped his hoodie off, desperate to feel his skin against your own. he clearly wanted the same, judging by the way he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you flesh against his chest. 

ethan managed to capture both of your wrists in one of his hands, pinning them above your head. you were unfamiliar with the feeling of being restrained, but the sensation seemed to send your heart thrumming even faster. he kissed you until your lips were sore and your knees were weak before finally dropping his forehead to yours. ethan took his chance, letting his eyes roam all over you and you watched his pupils grow larger until his eyes were practically black. “jesus fuck, y/n. you’re beautiful.”

your voice came out high and breathy as you responded. “ ‘could say the same about you.” you were practically panting, your body no longer responding to your mind as your back arched. ethan let out a hard breath. 

“do you know what you do to me?”

your eyes fluttered shut as ethan’s lips met the sensitive skin of your neck, his tongue exploring the delicate flesh. he quickly found your weak spot and focused his attention there; he let his teeth gently sink into your skin, making you gasp before using his soft tongue to soothe the spot. he repeated this process all over your neck, sucking on your flesh when he found a sweet spot. you knew that you’d be covered in purple-blue bruises, but you’d wear them proudly- that was ethan’s motivation for marking you up.

ethan trailed soft, wet kisses all the way down your neck to your collarbones, groaning at the way you pushed your chest toward him. he hesitated, but started kissing back up your neck, your jaw, back up to your lips. he released his grip on your wrist and you quickly cupped his face in your hands, kissing him with everything in you. you wanted the boy to feel the way you wanted him, and you knew he could as his lips seemed to slow, the kisses getting deeper and deeper. you lost yourself completely in ethan, unsure of where he started and you ended. you could feel his heartbeat against your own, the two thumping rapidly, almost erratic.

the two of you stayed pressed up against each other, your back firmly against the wall for a while, until ethan finally pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “bed?”

you nodded eagerly, wanting the boy all over you. the two of you stumbled, half kissing over to the mattress, falling together. ethan quickly situated himself on top of your body, caging you in between his arms. he began kissing down your body at a torturously slow pace, tracing the dark marks he’d already left with his soft tongue, driving you insane. ethan took his time working down to your breasts, finally taking one of your sensitive nubs into his mouth. you let out an almost guttural moan at the sensation, pleasure overwhelming your senses. ethan hummed at your reaction, only intensifying the feeling. you tangled a hand in his hair, the other digging into his back, leaving long, red scratches on his pale skin. 

ethan swirled his tongue around your bud, taking extreme pride in the way you let your head fall back against the mattress, moans of his name spilling from your lips. he tucked an arm under the arch of your back, pulling your body even closer to him- he didn’t want any space dividing the two of you. ethan pulled off of your puffy nipple with a soft moan, wasting no time in kissing over your chest, pulling the other into his mouth. he covered your chest in dark, deep bruises, admiring his work under the sensual glow of the red lights. “so pretty..”

you couldn’t form full sentences to respond with, just broken moans and pleads and tugs on his hair. ethan found it endearing, the way you wanted him so badly. he couldn’t help but give you what you needed.

he kisses hastily down your body leaving small lovebites here and there on your ribs, your stomach. ethan hooked his thumbs in the waistband of your skirt and pressed a kiss to the exposed skin right above the fabric. “this okay?”

“yes, i- please,” you pleaded, lifting your hips to make it easier. ethan got rid of the piece of clothing, discarding it on his bedroom floor, quickly followed by your panties. he let out a throaty moan, his eyes working over you lazily, like he had all the time in the world. he admired your body until you wriggled underneath him, needing some sort of stimulation. 

“what do you want, baby?”

“you,” you whined, desperation weaving through your voice. ethan pressed gentle, warm kisses on your hip bones, fighting a laugh. 

“i know that. what specifically?”

“fuck, ethan. anything, just touch me. please.”

“okay, okay. and you're positive this is alright?”

“yes. i’m so sure. i swe-” your words died in the back of your throat as ethan pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing small, soft circles. “holy fuck.”

“already so worked up,” ethan mumbled, pressing kisses to your inner thighs. “this because of me?”

you were taken aback by the way your high seemed to multiply the pleasure by tens of thousands- ethan was barely touching you and you could feel your high approaching quickly. you couldn’t find the words to answer him as ethan shifted between your legs, giving himself a better view of your sex. “does that feel okay?”

a stream of swears left your lips as ethan quickened his pace, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder. “so fucking good, just like that.” the knots in your stomach continued to tighten as you balled the sheets in your fist, tugging at his hair with the other hand.

ethan pressed a kiss dangerously low on your hip, looking up at you. “can i?”

your hips bucked at the tone of his voice, and you nodded vigorously. ethan kept his eyes on yours as he ran his tongue through your folds, lapping your arousal up. he couldn’t help but groan at the taste of you, the way you pulled at his hair, putting his mouth where you wanted it before letting your head fall back onto his bed. ethan started to suck at your sensitive bud, rolling his tongue over the bundle of nerves and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

“i- fuck- i’m close.”

he hummed, the vibrations sending you over the edge. your eyes rolled back into your head while you tugged at his hair, your orgasm completely undoing you- the high only added to the sensation, making it that much better. your hips bucked under the skillful work of his soft tongue as ethan let you ride out your high on his face. 

ethan dropped a gentle kiss on your clit before peppering your entire body with them, giggling at the way you squealed. he finally attached his lips to your neck, your jaw, back to your lips. you kissed him hard, tasting yourself off of him. finally, when your exhaustion won out you pulled away, running your hands through ethan’s fluffy hair. 

“how was that?”

you propped yourself up on your elbows, pecking ethan’s lips. “so, so good,” you mewled between heavy breaths. ethan bit down on his lower lip and smiled, pride filling his system. 

“god, you look good moaning my name. you're beautiful, you know,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. ethan looked at you with a tenderness in his eyes, placing another kiss on your lips. “think you can go again?”

ethan started trailing down your body again, not waiting for an answer. he was laser focused on pleasuring you, making you whine and whimper for him- only for him. before he could get far, though, you were grabbing at his arm and shaking your head. he flushed, peeling away from you while starting to profusely apologize, but you pressed a finger to his lips. 

“want you. inside of me,” you explained between pants, still exhausted from the first round of stimulation. ethan threw his head back, swearing. 

“jesus christ, y/n. need me that bad, baby?”

his choice of words drowned you in desire, and you were all his. “yes. please, ethan?”

he wanted to fuck you until all you could do was moan his name just like that, over and over again. before you could process what was happening ethan had his hands all over you, roaming your body as he practically drooled at the sight before him: your already fucked out body, the sweet look painting your face, begging for him. ethan could barely control himself, his words coming out as rough murmurs.

“protection? i mean, i have it.”

you bit at your lip, hard. you were on birth control, and you wanted him- all of him.

shaking your head, you explained. “birth control. we’ll be fine, if you’re comfortable.”

you jumped as ethan moved a finger to your entrance, dipping into your sex. he groaned at the way you clenched around the appendage, his cock jumping in his boxers. “want my cum inside you?”

“yes- fuck, ethan, please,” you begged, reduced to nothing. all you wanted; all you needed was him inside you, ruining your body until you couldn’t take anymore pleasure. 

“so tight,” he mumbled, lining another finger up. you bucked your hips, the sensitivity almost too much as he stretched you out, watching the way your face contorted under his influence. ethan placed a large hand low on your abdomen, applying light pressure. “if you can’t take this, you won’t be able to take me.”

you nodded, pace almost desperate for him to continue. “feels good baby. so good.”

you took note of the pleased expression that stretched over ethan’s face as you praised the boy- you were just telling the truth, but clearly he liked to hear what a good job he was doing. ethan brought his thumb up to your clit, rubbing tight circles on the bundle of nerves and you grabbed at his wrist, nails digging into skin. 

“gonna make me cum again,” you warned, but ethan only smiled at you, nodding almost condescendingly.

“wanna finish on my fingers, pretty girl?”

you wanted to say no, wait to come undone around him, but his movements felt too good. you dug your nails into his arm even harder, your other hand clawing into ethan’s soft sheets as the knots in your stomach came undone, your walls contracting around his fingers tight enough to make him moan. 

ethan let his pace slow, extending your orgasm as you practically rode his hand, crying out in absolute euphoria as he increased pressure on your clit.  unable to form words, you released your grasp on the boy’s arm, bringing your hand up to his face instead. you pulled ethan’s lips down to meet yours, whining at the feeling of his clothed cock grinding against your center.

ethan couldn’t take it anymore, quickly ridding himself of the soft sweatpants. you watched as his manhood sprung up, hitting his abdomen; the sight in and of itself enough to make you let out another bliss-filled noise. ethan let his eyes fall to yours as he stroked himself, shuddering at the heavenly friction. again, his voice came out low as he lined himself up with you.

“sure?”

far beyond words, you nodded and laced your fingers through his. 

ethan returned your grasp with a sweet squeeze, gliding the tip of his cock through your folds- coating himself in your arousal. the two of you moaned in sync; a sweet, satisfied sort of harmony. finally, ethan pushed into you slowly, gasping at the feeling. you couldn’t help the way your eyes rolled back into your head, the feeling of him inside you almost too much. 

“you okay?”

“so good,” you breathed, trying not to yelp at the feeling spreading through your lower body. ethan was well endowed- the biggest you’d ever taken- and it was an addictive sort of pain. he moved slowly, stopping a few times; allowing you to adjust around his length. when he’d bottomed out, ethan let his head fall back, groans escaping his throat.

“so fucking tiny,” he gasped, a groan cutting his statement off. “feel so good around me, gorgeous.”

you nodded at him, trying your best to meet ethan’s eyes as you praised the boy. “so fucking big- you feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking. “want you so bad.”

a breathless laugh escaped ethan’s lungs as he maneuvered a hand behind one of your thighs, lifting your leg to hook over his shoulder. he pushed even deeper into you and black spots began to crowd the sides of your vision, the pleasure overwhelming. slowly, ethan started to pull out of you, eliciting filthy words and moans from you before he slid his length back in. 

“fucking hell, y/n. so tight,” he said, voice tipping up into a whimper at the end. he quickened his pace, the noise of sleeping skin filling the room. you could barely contain yourself, no longer fighting the stream of murmurs and swears leaving your lips as ethan continued to pump in and out of you. your next orgasm was already building, the coils tightening rapidly in your lower belly.

ethan let his hand wander down to your sensitive bud, almost coming undone at the sight of your eyes fluttering shut. you traced up his forearm, scraping at his sweet skin before knotting your fingers in his hair, tugging at the roots. 

“eyes open, baby. look at me.”

you could’ve cum then and there, the instructions only turning you on further. you forced your eyes open, meeting his as ethan sped up again. an almost animalistic noise left your throat as ethan thrusted into you roughly- you weren’t going to be able to hang on much longer. ethan felt the way your walls were clenching around him, fluttering and tightening as he increased his speed on your clit.

“close?” he asked, unable to say much more than that. your grip around him was euphoric- he was closer than he’d like to be. it hadn’t been more than 20 minutes, but with the way you were pulling at his head, almost crying in completely bliss, ethan wanted to fill you to the brim with his cum then fuck it into your sensitive pussy, overstimulating the sweet flesh.

you nodded, humming a small “mhm,” as you looked at him with wide eyes. ethan paused for a moment, shifting your leg up even higher onto his shoulder before plunging back into you. you felt the head of his cock hit a new, even more delicious spot and you became almost delirious. looking at him with furrowed eyebrows, you felt a tear crawl down your cheek.

“gonna cum, ethan-”

“fuck- me too. let go, baby.”

your entire body seemed to shake and shudder under the force of your orgasm- it hit you like a fucking train. you felt ethan’s thrusts get sloppier as he buried himself inside you, his head dropping to the crook of your neck. he whimpered as he shot his cum deep into your pussy, the sensation all consuming. the two of you stayed like that for a while- riding out your highs with each other, rough moans turned to honey-sweet mewls. 

as your heart rate started to come down, you peppered the boy's face with soft, careless kisses: ones that he gladly returned. ethan finally found your lips, pressing tender, long kisses to the swollen skin. 

“you’re a fucking god,” you murmured, stressing the word as ethan’s face flushed even hotter than it already had been.

“that,” he huffed, breathing still hard and uneven, “would be you.”

you giggled at the statement, your voice hitching as ethan slowly pulled out of you. you could feel a mixture of him and you spill out, the substance flowing over your things as ethan kissed down your body, taking in the sight between your legs. 

“so pretty, baby,” he whispered, sinking a long finger into your pussy. your whole body spasmed at the feeling, completely overstimulated. ethan pulled out of you softly, watching the way his cum seemed to spill out of you endlessly. he placed small, delicate kisses to the marks he’d left covering your thighs, admiring his work. “can i keep you here for the night?” he asked, eyes turning affectionate.

you nodded at the boy as he came back up to meet your lips, then your forehead. as you settled onto his chest, drawing lazy patterns on his skin, ethan's voice seemed to return to normal.

“such a good girl.”

[chuuyas--boo]

The Facility - Flashback.

Riley folded her hands in her lap, nervously waiting for the psychiatrist. The gingers hair was down, which was rare, she’d worn nicer clothes than she had in the past, due to the poor conditions of the orphanage she and her now dead brother were at…or rather due to the women who worked there, they didn’t really care about the two once the other kids were gone. She’d been taken into a family, who were much different from the sort of family she was used to. The new family was kind and caring, they never yelled at her or hit her, there wasn’t a single drop of alcohol in the house. The parents of the family had decided she needed a psychiatrist due to her self-harming, suicidal thoughts, obsessiveness, and occasional hallucinations. Despite only being around them for about a month, she felt oddly safe with them. Little did the petite ginger know, her psychiatrist wasn’t a normal man. Far from it, in fact, he was part of an experiment, and Riley would soon be part of it. While her psychiatrist would try to help her, that wasn’t his main goal. His goal was to get information on her and to see her eyes. He was obsessed with eyes. Especially sick eyes, dead eyes.  The door opened and a fairly tall man with olive-green hair, glasses, a white coat, pale blue shirt, a red and green striped tie, glasses with an oval frame, and had heterochromia, one gray and one brown. “I’m Dr. Danny, and I’m going to be in charge of your counseling.” The man gave the girl a warm smile, before sitting in a chair across from her, with a camera on a tripod between them. “And you’re Riley, right?” “Y-yes, sir…” Riley began fiddling with her fingers. “Uhm…doctor..u-unless you want me to call you s-sir!” she quickly corrected herself, her voice cracking slightly. “Doctor is fine. You don’t have to be so nervous and tense, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m just here to help you.” Danny reassured her. “Sorry…I’m just used to…” her voice trailed off and her mismatched green gaze dropped to the floor. There was something slightly off about him that sent shivers down her spine but she couldn’t figure it out so she ignored it. “Ah, you’re still very tense…is something wrong? You can tell me, I am here to help you after all!” Riley looked back up, “No…I’m just used to getting y-yelled at…” Danny stared at her eyes for a moment, intrigued by them, green was a rare color, especially heterochromatic ones, one was lighter than the other. After a moment, he realized Riley looked uncomfortable. “I apologize…I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Your eyes are very pretty.” Riley tilted her head. “I dunno about “pretty”...more like weird…N-not that there’s anything wrong with heterochromia! I-it’s very pretty…just…not on me!” she giggled nervously, hoping she hadn’t offended him. Danny chuckled softly as if reassuring her that he hadn’t been offended. “Now…do you know why you’re here?” Riley froze for a second, she did know. “I think so… self-harming…obsessiveness…suicidal thoughts, hallucinations…a-and…” Danny titled his head, he knew why she was here, but he didn’t know the last reason. “And?” “I’ve uhm…witnessed a c-couple murders…” she was obviously lying, her hands trembled slightly as she spoke. “A couple? Do you know the victims?” Riley stayed silent, wondering if she should tell the truth or lie and say she didn’t know the victims. “Well…one of them was one of my classmates…a-and…one was my brother…” That wasn’t completely the truth, nor was it completely a lie, those were the two victims, however, she was leaving out a huge detail. “Oh my…I’m terribly sorry for your loss. But…do you know how they died? Or who did it?” Danny’s voice stayed gentle and calm as if he wasn’t interrogating her, going off-topic. Riley hadn’t noticed that the camera was on before, she hadn’t even noticed when it was turned on. Her eyes widened slightly “Well…Uhm…I didn’t get to see the killer's faces…I wasn’t up close or a-anything! I just…kinda happened to see it happen…and was too scared to go do anything…” “I’m legally required to keep any, and all of this

between us. Just the two of us. So, you can tell the truth.” “H-how-! I didn’t do it! I didn’t! I just saw them!” Riley’s gaze was fixed on the camera at this point. “Plus..even if I did do it…y-you’re recording…s-so you’d tell! You’d tell the authorities or something!” no matter how hard she tried to stay calm, her shaky, cracking voice gave her away. “That’s just so I can keep track of things, rather than only writing them down and possibly leaving something important out. Don’t worry, like I said this is just between the two of us.” Riley went silent again for a few minutes, “I did it…I-I got jealous…and…killed my classmate…I dismembered her….and put her in a box…and left it on Jordan’s front steps…!” “Who’s Jordan?” “My boyfriend…or…he was my boyfriend…” Riley sounded oddly calm now, which was highly disturbing, as she was talking about a murder she's committed. “Ah…I see…and what about your brother? Did you kill him as well?” Danny mentally took note of Riley’s bipolar behavior. Riley just silently nodded. “Why’d you do it?” “They were gonna keep hurting him…s-so… I had to stop them from hurting him!” “And killing him would keep…whoever “they” are from hurting him?” Riley nodded, a tiny smile lit up her still bruised face. “I see…it seems I may have gone off-topic, I apologize. Now….have you hurt yourself recently? If so, when was the last time?” Riley’s smile faded, “Uhm…well…I haven’t in the past month…since I haven’t really been able to. They took anything I could hurt myself with, out of the room I stayed in, and kept a close eye on me when I wasn’t in my room…s-so…it’s been about a month.” Danny raised an eyebrow, almost as if questioning her. “I swear! I haven’t! I’ve thought about it…but I haven’t actually done it!” “That’s great to hear…well…I think I’ve already figured out the obsessiveness…what about hallucinations? Do you know what causes them? Do you take any medicine for anything?” “Well…I don’t sleep very much…I have insomnia…and I just don’t like sleeping…I don’t take any pills…for anything. My mom never cared enough to try to take me to a doctor, not that she could anyway. She was always drunk or someth-” Riley paused, realizing she’d said more than she should’ve. “Please continue. If you don’t mind, of course.” The ginger hesitated for a second, “Well…she was almost always drunk or high…or both! And…she’d beat me…so…I didn’t sleep much, cause I couldn’t…or I have really bad nightmares…and it used to be too loud to sleep…Oh-! And I sometimes have sleep paralysis!” Danny noticed the dark circles under the girl's eyes, and how her eyes seemed dull, not dead, but dull and tired. “I’ve been able to sleep a bit more recently…especially since I haven’t been woken up by yelling.” “It seems you’re doing well with the family you’re currently with, yes?” Riley nodded. “That’s good to hear, Riley…”

[branchofcinnamon]

What if i “liveblogged” about the Lorax haha… jk… u n l e s s

But actually what if i start crying before the movie even starts. What then

((this is like the 5th time im trying to make this friggin post. I watched the movie on The Day but tumblr keeps deleting half the images. at this point i am posting this out of spite)) 

I MUST have watched it again, like, less than TEN years ago, but it’s still been a while…

Also apologies for the crappy photos from my phone (but hopefully that makes things funnier)

ah yes, danny devito 

this pic is funnier 

(when he flies the toy plane in Audrey’s yard) 

you live ACROSS TOWN TED. ffffs

“What kind of name is that. the fuck?” -Ted probably 

Do you think people think the Once-Ler is like an eldritch horror boogeyman 

alright. i’ve been watching videos comparing “How Bad Can I Be” and “Biggering”, which also just kind of becomes “how the movie is” vs “if the movie had a darker tone”, but i’ll see youtube comments like “Thneedville isn’t a dystopia, they’re all happy”. BUT it IS a dystopia. they’re all being LIED to/kept ignorant. ^ the pipes with the gunk and the cameras everywhere, the gated community. it doesn't look like a “dystopia” like a decrepit town falling apart but its still disturbing. like it reminds me of We Happy Few or something, where they keep everyone distracted/happy so they dont ask questions

The way Ted almost fucking dies

and Again

The way he side-eyes Ted fdjdjjknkjgkgjkng 

Why that look™ is he worried about the journey ahead or is it the once-ler breaking the fourth wall about how he’s telling his life story and is suddenly young again

I know this is just like a visual gag but it cracks me the hell up dnjjkfnsdkjk. The desert looks like it stretches on forever. How long was this man traveling jdjndnjdjd 

Also its a crime they didn’t put the “Traveling Madness” song in the movie. Comedy gold. Yeah okay he’s singing about bone furniture but still.

he is such a DORK. 

how could the internet NOT fall in love with him. 

see HERE he’s breaking the fourth wall. also i’ve just always loved this as a reaction image

ANOTHER threat on Ted’s life

“Humans were a mistake” -The Lorax probably 

“Yeah. Okay.” 

Ted almost dies for the FOURTH time 

i know i know cartoon logic, im mostly joking. i’ve just had an inside joke (with myself?) that Ted could have died multiple times just visiting the once-ler njfdjkfdnjkd

sorry i laugh at Ted’s misery 

O’Hare’s head is so BIG 

“Why can’t you just be normal?” -Ted probably 

the once-ler would have just died if the barbaloot wasnt with him dhdfshdjbhfjdhj they only chased after him because of pipsqueak

okay so HE DID DIE 

“The Lorax movie” 

“The Lorax movie if the Lorax let the Once-Ler drown in the river”

GBHJHDBJBGJB love that i captured this 

sUUUUUUUper ABSORBENT

they are so mean 😔 maybe you guys deserve capitalism

he is SO fucking tall. once-ler is the real “7 foot frame” man 

#5

so cute Ted brought him marshmallows though 

i NEVER knew they spell it like that fdnjnfjdjkn always saw most people write “Oncie” 

I Do Not See It™

B A D. ITS ALMOST TIME 

Blurry-Ler (2022)

it's the “Let’s see~” for me. he knew what he was doing. 

Lorax’s turn to almost die 

this line is a big difference between HBCIB and Biggering. In the latter its “Who cares if some things are dying”. The thing is, that line and the Biggering song as a whole is such a different tone from the rest of the movie. I really don’t think it would have worked if they just replaced HBCIB with it. The whole movie would have to be reworked. 

Just like the town, HBCIB is upbeat and fun on the surface, but there's still the “bad” things going on that you see happening. Once-ler happily polluting the air/water, lying about giving money to charity, ignoring the Lorax at every turn... it starts off like “I’m not the bad guy” but by the end it becomes “What can i keep getting away with?” I’ve never seen it as once-ler being ignorant/unaware of what he was doing to the environment, he was ignoring it on purpose. Even when he’s standing there looking shocked as the last tree falls, I think that was him previously believing the trees would never run out. One of his excuses could have been that there are thousands of trees, it’s not that bad, we can keep going. Was the fact that there were still trees standing his “security blanket?” As long as there’s still some trees, he’s not really evil. HBCIB is once-ler being in denial. 

Biggering goes so hard it's on another level but, it’s hard for me to see it working in the actual movie. I’ve seen people say that the ideal outcome would have been if they had both songs in the movie. Biggering being like a darker reprise of HBCIB. I think that would have been amazing but again the whole movie would probably have to be changed. Maybe I’m giving Biggering too much credit now but, I just can’t see it in the same movie where they have the bears frolicking with marshmallows and stuff. Maybe they could have made it work with some tweaks, and if they showed the once-ler being “evil” for longer than one song montage. Watching it again now also made me realize how fast HBCIB kind of comes along, even though it's almost an hour into the movie. It feels like it's already here too fast (or maybe because I know it's going to be over soon). Once-ler’s story is already done a few minutes after the song ends, when it's just become the most interesting part of the movie. I guess you could say there really isn’t much more to say after it though. HBCIB shows his “success” and also inner descent, and all that's left there to really say is “See? You fucked up.” 

I dont know what I’m trying to say here anymore djnfgkjgkjn. this was me trying to defend HBCIB i think. Like it’s really not “shallow” as I see people say. The message is still there, it's just delivered differently. 

Some of my thoughts kind of boil down to “Well maybe they should have changed this….. But wait actually no i like the way they did it”. LIKE in the full “This is the place” song the once-ler is so much more of an asshole. He’s like purposely bothering the animals and taking their stuff. In the movie he’s just a friggin idiot. On one hand it's like, well this shows his lack of respect for nature from the start. But then If the once-ler is unlikable from the start i think it diminishes the message that “even this nice guy here can be consumed by greed.” 

Fjdjnbjhb sorry im writing so much lmao.

Okay I think my overall point is just i do still love the movie for what it is. Could the movie have been better/closer to the tone of the book? Of course it could have, but you could say that about a lot of things, and we don't actually know how that version would have turned out. Like I'm sure if we got the hypothetical darker Lorax movie with “Biggering” and the “Thneedville” demo instead and whatnot, there would still be things about it that people would change. I could just see people saying it was too on the nose the entire time. I found this comment on Youtube kinda related to this that made me laugh:

Yeah anyway, I feel like Charlie Day now. moving on. 

YOU’RE ALL GOING TO JAIL

gffgdjfgjn okay i segwayed to youtube but i so badly want to see where they were going with this. was it just a throwaway line or were they gonna show the lorax and the animals in a jail cell njdjnjnf  

“Too big to fail” 

The Once-Ler 2 minutes from now: 

it finally hits him when everyone leaves 😔

“Oh god oh fuck he is magical. shit.” -The Once-ler probably 

Audrey’s turn 

fhbghjbhj I DID actually forget Ted just breaks the wall down. before i was like, “Why didnt the once-ler like come over here and talk-” OH right Ted just breaks the wall and shows them. nvm thats much better.

is it me or does this look like a painting jgjkjkjf 

the way it made me soooo sad the once-ler is all alone for like fifty years 😥

Cinematic PARALLELS 

:’) 

okay well fnghjdfhjfdhjg we did it. its over. thanks for coming to my Ted talk (i had to im sorry) 

i wish i could articulate my thoughts better,,, but uh. the movie still makes me smile and that's all that matters sometimes :)