#i already watched the series for them and it wasn't there so fuckin make it canon by our damn selves

[moviesstoriesandbooks]

I swear to God , or whatever is most holy to me , if i ever make it big, as in money wise??? I'd just cast dylan O'Brien and tyler hoechlin in a gay drama where they meet after going their seperate ways for years , only when derek's nephew(hem hem son) is getting ready to go to college . They actually talk(fight) it out , finally reveal their feelings .

Stiles was like ," I couldn't face you after i woke up with your sister of all people!! I don't do that derek. I was madly in love with you!!!! And i don't even remember how or what happened"

Derek was like " i already forgave you. She already told me you both were blackout drunk and she was high on- wait . You.....loved ?? Me??? !? "

And then they proceed to have the bestest hottest most romantic lovemaking scene in the history of film , and their son has to gag everytime they're on screen together coz they're oh so sappy.

I WILLL do it. I'm threatening you all , whomsover it may concern.

I will make them kithhhhh 😡

[thetriumphantpanda]

you got all my love | joel & tommy miller

Summary | Well, it was always going to happen, wasn't it? No-one had banked on a connection that ran this deep though.

Warnings | No smut, only softness. A little angst. Talk of pregnancy. Alcohol consumption. Smut will return in full force in the final two parts.

Word Count | 1.7K

Authors Note | Okay, so here it is! Everything we've been working towards so far. There's no smut here, just some softness, but I promise there are two more parts and this little threesome is far from over! If you're enjoying this so far, then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with some love - I have really enjoyed interacting with you all over this! And, if you'd like to leave a tip (As always, no pressure what-so-ever) then you can do so here on Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You have to rub your eyes until they sting to make sure you’re not seeing things. Then you have to do another one just to be sure. Then, just in case, another one just for luck, but all three show the same thing. Two pink lines. Those two fucking pink lines you had been praying for all along, on every single test. You’re pregnant. You’re finally fucking pregnant. 

You gather all three tests in your hands once you’ve put the cap back on the bit you’ve peed on, before you bound down the stairs. It’s early in the morning and Tommy is stood at the coffee maker, waiting for enough liquid to filter to fill his mug. He turns around at the commotion of you almost falling into the table after forgetting to step on the final step. You’re breathless. 

“What on earth is the matter, sugar?” He asks, leaning against the kitchen counter. 

You hold up the three tests, but realise he can’t see anything with the grip you’ve got them held in. You take the strides to close the distance between you, setting them down on the counter next to the coffee machine. You watch, with a grin on your face as he picks one up, slamming it straight back down onto the counter when he sees the lines. 

“Holy fuckin’ shit,” He breathes, turning to you, “You’re?” 

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, “I’m pregnant.” 

His arms are crushing around you, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. It finally worked. You’d finally been given everything you’d ever wanted. You pull back enough to fuse your lips with Tommy’s, before you pull away and realise you’re both crying. 

“You’re gonna be a dad, Tommy.” You grin, pressing your lips all over his face, wherever you can reach. 

“And you’re gonna be a mama, baby.” He speaks softly, setting your feet back on the ground, “Don’t know how I’m supposed to go to work now, I wanna tell everyone.” 

You grin and cup his cheek, “I know baby, me too,” You look down at your feet before meeting his eye again, “There is someone we need to tell though.” 

Joel is as welcoming as ever when you turn up that evening. He’s shouting up the stairs for Sarah to come and say hello, which she does, giving you both a hug before apologizing, glaring at her father, and informing you both that it’s already past her bedtime and she needs to brush her teeth. 

“You want a drink?” Joel asks Tommy, who agrees to a glass of whiskey, “What about you, darlin’?” 

“No, thank you, I’ll be driving back.” You smile, feeling around in the back pocket of your jeans for the lone test you’d brought with you, keeping it a secret to yourself for now. 

Joel makes you a cup of tea and you sit around and chat for a while. Tommy filling him in on how things had been on site that morning, Joel talking about how he’d been to Sarah’s parent’s evening and how proud he was that she was doing so well. There was some off-hand comment that you frowned at, something about her inheriting the brains from her mother because they certainly hadn’t come from him, but it had been a nice conversation otherwise. 

When there is a lull in the conversation, Tommy reaches across the table to take hold of your hand, sitting forward in his chair, “We have something to tell you.” He smiles at Joel. 

You look to Tommy, reaching into your back pocket to fish the pregnancy test out before you slide it over the table to Joel. You watch as he picks it up, bringing it close enough to his face so he can see those two pink lines. Then he’s slamming it down on the table with a grin, all three of you standing in unison. 

It’s you he comes to first. He wraps those big, strong arms around your waist and pulls you into a hug. You wrap your own around his neck and giggle as he congratulates you, right into your ear. Then, he sets you down, a chaste kiss to your cheek, before he moves onto Tommy. 

It’s a scene that makes you want to cry. Tommy stretches out his hand as if he wanted Joel to shake it, but instead, he pulls Tommy into the biggest hug you’ve ever seen the brothers give each other. They’re slapping each other’s backs, pulling apart just enough to grin at each other, before they embraced again. 

When Joel finally does let Tommy go, Tommy comes straight to your side, pulling you into him as Joel leans against his kitchen counter. 

“Listen, I don’t want to make this a huge thing,” Tommy starts, rubbing the back of his neck with that nervous energy you remember he had when he first suggested this, “But thank you, for everything, for giving us everything, I know you and I know you don’t want anything as thanks, but just know how grateful we are for this brother.” 

He shakes his head with a little smile, “I told you, anythin’ for family.” And with a shrug, that’s pretty much it. Tommy gives him another hug before he’s turning to you. 

“I’ll let you two have a minute alone,” Tommy smiles, giving your hand a squeeze, fishing the car keys out of his pocket, “I’ll see you outside.” 

Joel is leaning against his kitchen counter with an expression you can’t place, so you take a few steps towards him, taking his big hand in your own before you place a kiss to the inside of his palm, trailing your lips in soft kisses up his arm until you reach the crook of his elbow where his flannel sits. Then, you pull that arm around your shoulder, wrapping your own arms around his waist in a hug. 

He's quick to return it, squeezing you into his body, as his other arm comes up to cradle your head to his chest, running along the back of your head as you breathe in his scent. He dips and presses his lips, ever-so-gently, to the crown of your head. 

“Thank you,” You whisper softly, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, “I know it’s not much, but I don’t know what else you say.” You admit. 

“Thank you is enough, pretty girl.” 

You squeeze your arms tighter around his waist, you can’t look at him, not yet, not with your eyes filled with tears. You’re not even sure why you’re crying. Sure, you’re happy, over-the-moon, but there’s a sense of loss that sits inside you. It had been fun, what you’d been doing. Thrilling even, and you were always bound to get a little caught up in the way he made you feel when it was happening. Tommy has, and always will be, your number one. You’ve loved him since the moment you met him. But somewhere along the line, his rugged, older brother has stolen a piece of your heart all for himself and you don’t even mind all that much. 

“I don’t want you to think we’re done with you,” You sniffle, trying to hold back the tears, “Just beause you’ve given us this, doesn’t mean we go back to normal; we can’t go back to normal.” 

“I know babygirl,” He sighs, “I’m just happy I was able to make you happy, give you what you wanted,” There’s another kiss to your head now, “Take your time, you’re gonna be a family now, I don’t wanna get in the way of that, but I wanna help okay? You need anythin’, you call me, alright?” 

You pull away and finally look at him, his own eyes glassy just like yours. He feels it too. It was only ever meant to be sex, only ever meant to be a means to an end, but neither of you expected the end to come so soon. Whether you, Joel or Tommy like it, you’re bonded to this man with his arms around your shoulders, and it’s scary. He loves his brother too much to do anything about the sinking feeling in his stomach, but God he wishes he could have you, just once more, just to tattoo what you felt like right onto his brain, onto his very soul, so he could remember you forever. 

“Uncle Joel, right?” A lone tear rolls down your cheek, which Joel brushes away with the pad of his thumb, keeping one hand cupped around your cheek. 

“Uncle Joel,” He nods, with a smile on his face, “And you best believe I’ll be the best damn Uncle ever.” 

Your eyes are still glassed over with tears when you push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him. It’s soft and it only last a few seconds before you pull away. Before you can fully move yourself away though, Joel’s hands are cupping your face, leaning down to kiss you properly. His mouth opens at the same time as yours, and when his tongue is in your mouth, you can taste the whiskey on him. You can feel in this kiss everything you think he wants you to. The fact that he loves you, like he’s said before, as part of his family. The fact that he’s happy he could give you everything you wanted. The fact that he’s sad that he’s managed to do just that, and those moments he’d waited for, had craved all month long were gone now. That it’s okay, too, that he must step back, let you and Tommy figure out how to be parents together. That he’ll always be here, as long as he possibly can be, just in case you need him. 

When you finally pull away from each other, a kiss placed by you on his jaw, you don’t say anything else. You don’t need too. Neither of you do. You just squeeze his hand and leave, joining Tommy in the car. 

He hands you the keys and in no time at all you’re making the short drive to your own home. To your new life. The one Joel had given you, handed to you on a platter. You don’t think you’d ever be able to express to him how truly grateful you are to him. When you pull the car into the driveway and cut the engine, Tommy reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it. 

“Okay?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” You smile, “I’m okay.” 

[urtheloml]

wonder how we got this far (i don't really need to wonder at all)

pairing: bakugou x reader w/c: 9k synopsis: you're excited about the prom, bakugou is not— disagreement ensues a/n: i'm back... first post of 2023 n the year is almost over... embarrassing 🧍🏼‍♂️this is the third n final installation to my little white lie mini-series!! read part 1 here n part 2 here!! this can be read as a standalone too :3 uhm... i started this fic in like... april (??) n completely forgot abt it until last week so i have no idea what the original plot was going 2 be but i think it turned out okay (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) also i know this fic is SOOOO overdramatic but i have watched every single movie that had a major prom scene (hsm3, the duff, mean girls, etc) n growing up, i looked forward it to SO bad that i literally used it as motivation to do well in exams. but then COVID happened so no prom experience for me so this is me basically projecting onto my writing!! okay mwah hope u like it xx o((>ω< ))o!!

Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. Yellow, black. The opening scene of the Bee Movie plays like a mantra in your head as you're searching for something in your closet. Your ears pick up the occasional grunt or cheer from your boyfriend, who's currently laying in your bed with his DS in hand, and your eyes roll affectionately.

You can't find what you're looking for so you abandon the mess you've made in your drawer and turn to Bakugou instead. "'Katsu, have you seen my can of body glitter? It's in a little purple spray bottle."

Bakugo barely glances your way, "No, why would I have seen that. Why d'ya need it anyway?"

Your body slumps against his comfortably as you cosy up next to him on your bed and even if it's been a while, your heart still skips when he immediately tangles his legs with yours. "I need it to make myself glittery for the prom, duh. You can use it too if you want before we leave."

"Huh?"

"The prom. The dance thing we're going to, in like three days?"

Bakugou's eyebrows scrunch up confusedly as he puts his DS down and immediately a bad premonition settles in your gut. "What are you talking about? I never said I was going to that shit."

Ah. There it is. You're glad he put his game down 'cause if he wasn't looking at you while you're about to have this conversation then his console might have landed outside your window right about now. You're looking at him incredulously when you say, "What do you mean you're not going? You're my boyfriend so you have to go. It's like an unspoken rule... you can't not go to prom. Who's gonna take me then? You want me to go alone, like some loser?"

The barrage of questions makes him smile amusedly at you, but for once the sight of it induces anything but affection in you. There's no way he's taking you seriously right now. Bakugou scoffs and turns back to his game, "Huff all you want, princess, but I'm not going to the prom."

Before he can start a new game, your body lands on top of him unceremoniously so you have his undivided attention. "'Tsuki! This is our one and only prom as high schoolers. Doesn't that mean anything to you? I want to go and dance with my girls and I want to dance with you. Please?"

His jaw ticks, and he looks away from you because he knows if he stares too long then he'll cave. He refuses to go and you're not about to sway him. He has his own reasons for not wanting to go and he'll stand by them if it's the last thing he'll do.

"I told you I ain't fuckin' going, alright? You can go with your friends and you can have fun and dance with them but I'm not going. Stop pushing me on this."

His voice comes out hard and unwavering, leaving no room for argument. Also, you can't believe he just called you pushy. Bakugou, who forced a confession out of you just because he wanted you to say it first. He underestimates your persistence though, because next thing he knows, you're leaning down like you're about to kiss him and his eyes are already half-lidded but instead you bite down harshly on his nose.

Bakugou yelps but that doesn't deter you. "Can you at least tell me why you don't want to go? Because you don't want to go to a lot of things with me but you always end up going anyway. Like the nail salon, or Bath and Body Works. Why's it different this time?"

His eyes narrow and he shifts beneath you, probably trying to escape your shit fuck ton of questions but you're caging him in. He stays quiet for a whole three minutes when he finally says, "I just don't want to go, fuck, can't you just let it go and compromise for fucking once?"

What. "What?"

“I’m just saying,” Bakugou sneers, propping his elbow up below his head, “you shouldn’t be forcing me to go. You said it yourself, ya know, it feels like I’m always doing what you want.”

You falter. "That's bullshit, Katsuki. You're being really mean right now."

It seems that you used the wrong choice of words because his face turns gloomy, and you can tell he’s biting the inside of cheek as hard as he can. He places his forearm over his eyes so he can physically block out your reaction when he practically spits, “Why don’t you go date golden boy Kirishima if you think I’m so mean, huh?”

Woah. That was a low fucking blow and he knows it. He regrets bringing up his best friend’s name the moment the words leave his mouth because the way you inhale sharply and get off of him fearing for his life. The hairs on his arms rise when you start speaking to him scoldingly, and he won't even deny that he deserves it.

“I cannot believe you’re still using that against me, ‘Suki, that was more than a year ago! And don’t give me shit about not knowing how to compromise because I always eat the food you make. Even when you make it spicy on purpose even though you know I can’t handle it. And you know what? I don’t particularly like going to the gym with you on the weekends, but I still always go! And maybe sometimes I wish we could have more than just study dates but I stay and read with you anyway. And I always, always, forgive you when you do stupid shit like forgetting our anniversary or- or when you make me cry."

Almost as if your body takes cue from your words, you can feel a familiar stinging sensation creep up behind your eyelids. It starts a chain reaction because somehow Bakugou barrels on. Even though his face blanches when he sees the water on your lash line, he can’t seem to stop his mouth from moving.

"Well, fuck, sorry I'm such a shitshow to handle, princess. You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. But if you’re so tired of me already, then why don't you just break up with me, huh?"

No longer was there a trace of affection or playfulness in the way he calls you ‘princess’. The word drips with condescension and malice and your heart cracks a bit at the way he speaks about himself. Bakugou's sitting on the bed now, looking up at you as you stand before him.

Yet, your gaze holds nothing but warmth and frustrated tears when you look at him. Because, much to your dismay, you also always know when there’s something up with Bakugou . He leans away for a moment when your hands come up to touch his head, but decides to let himself fall into your touch in the end.

Bakugou buries his face against your stomach, gripping onto the back of your shirt with crumpled fists. Gently, your hand cards through his messy hair, “Baby, I never said that. I never said you were hard to deal with. You’re a very easy person to deal with, and an even easier person to love. And I have never, ever, thought about leaving you. Okay? I’m sorry for making you think that."

He nods into you, the movement tickles your abdomen and he does it again and again until you start giggling and pushing his head away. Bakugou rests his chin against your navel, looking up at you with slightly glassy eyes. He knows he doesn’t deserve the kindness you’re laying onto him, doesn't deserve you in general, but he still reaches up to swipe a thumb under your eye.

“No, I was out of line. I shouldn't have said all that. I’m sorry, I was bein’ rude as shit.”

The truth is, Bakugou isn't really that easy to deal with. You can handle him just fine because you've had years of practice. To an untrained eye, maybe it'll look bad for him when he scoffs a fuck off everytime you ask to hold his hand. But you know he never means it because he always takes your hand anyway, intertwining his fingers with yours. And then he'll squeeze your hand three times; i love you, i love you, i love you.

So no, he isn't easy to deal with. His body language and words don't always correspond to what he's trying to convey but it's still plainly obvious that he quite stupidly adores you anyway. He'll yell at you for forgetting your wallet, he'll call you an idiot the whole day and then he'll pay for your lunch and walk you home the same day. If you get cold for forgetting a cardigan, he'll tease and taunt you for a whole five minutes maximum before giving you his own that he just somehow keeps forgetting to take out of his bag, as he says. He'll make a face like he just ate a lemon when he tries and fails to not make fun of you if you don’t score so well on a test, and then he’ll tutor you for hours on end until you can get it right.

It gets quite predictable.

He pulls you down then, letting your bodyweight sink onto his lap and presses a kiss against your lips in apology and you hate that it works. Hate that he can erase every mistake with a press of his lips to yours, because he never kisses you without meaning it. And you know he means to say sorry with the way his tongue slips into your mouth.

Unfortunately, the argument does not end.

He pulls away, breathing heavier than before. The bubble of calmness and comfort around you bursts explosively however when he mutters, “‘M still not going to the prom, though.”

It's not like you didn't see this coming. You knew that he didn't really care about prom, no matter how badly you wanted him to. You just thought that maybe he'd take you anyway. The thought of going without him makes your chest clench because you could have the time of your life with your girls but it won't feel the same without him next to you.

Maybe he's right. Maybe you do make him do things he doesn't really want to. But then again, you do the same for him. You're left confused and defeated when it's time for him to leave and he's still adamant on not going. On one hand, you don't want to force him to go. But on another, you really do wish he'd change his mind.

You're silent as you show him out, and he notices but he stays quiet too and in his head, he beats himself for being a coward. He hates himself for not being able to talk to you properly. He knows very well that if he just told you what's up with him then you'd understand, and you could still probably convince to go to the dance. But he doesn't speak up.

Right before he leaves, he leans down to kiss you goodnight but you turn away at the last moment so his lips meet your cheek instead. Slowly, you press a palm against his heart, pushing him away and pretending you can’t hear how it stutters at your denial.

"Hey, before you go, I'm sorry if I'm being pushy again but you-,” your voice trails off, and you sigh defeatedly, “you can't keep making me cry and just expect to kiss it better all the time, okay? And I know you don't mean to do it, but it still hurts, Bakugou. I'm tired of getting hurt all the time and I'm not forcing you to go, but I hope you know that it really fucking sucks that my own boyfriend won't go to the dance with me, and it sucks even more that he won't even tell me why."

Bakugou? What happened to Katsu or ‘Suki, he mourns internally. He keeps a blank face but it feels like the blood within his veins just got replaced with pure fucking ice as he lets your words sink in. He refuses to let his facade break but it feels like someone is grabbing him by the throat and he can’t seem to breathe right.

"If you keep making me feel like this, one day I'm not just gonna let you kiss it all better. 'Cause sooner or later, you're gonna run out of chances."

Bakugou stays unanswering, and you look at him pleadingly for him to just talk to you but he doesn't. It's not until you go to close your door that he finally speaks, voice soft but accusing, "You just said you've never thought of leaving me, and now just 'cause I'm not taking you to some stupid dance, you're taking it all back?"

If Bakugou had superpowers, pissing you off would definitely be one of them. You resist the urge to stomp your foot childishly, because you know that won't help to get your point across. Your teeth bite down on nothing as harshly as possible because you don't want to start arguing again, it won't solve anything. He knows that too, and even though your hands stay right by your side, he feels like he was just punched in the jaw when you meet his eyes and he finds that somehow, he managed to make you cry twice in one night.

"Has it ever occurred to you that maybe this isn't just some stupid dance to me? I get it, okay, that it's not your scene or whatever, and it doesn't matter to you but it really matters to me," you tell him as placatingly as possible, and his eyes are as clouded as his judgement, "I've waited a long time for this, and I never thought I'd even be lucky enough to have someone who means so much to me to go with. And if you can't even see how important it is to me that I want you with me at this stupid dance, then you're the worst. The worst."

With that, you finally shut the door in his face. His muffled protests behind the slab of wood go ignored in favour of stomping back to your room. Bakugou's insufferable! He's stupid and stubborn and temperamental. He's a hothead that jumps headfirst into anything he does with everything he's got.

He's the worst. (he's the furthest thing from it)

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

Neither you nor Bakugou give in to the temptation of calling one another. When you see him in class, you don't look at him and you go straight home. The both of you being too stubborn to admit defeat by reaching out first. It hurts to admit though, that for once you wish he'd just call you. A mere three days of radio silence on both your ends doesn't do wonders for your relationship, it chips away at both of you until the hurt simmmers to a seemingly numb feeling in your hearts.

As you think of ways to spite him, your mind comes up with the idea of going with someone else. But you don't entertain that thought for longer than a second, because that would be cheating and you'd never stoop that low. He probably wouldn't even know if you did anyway.

The night before the prom, you sit on your bed forlornly, twirling the little charm bracelet that slings around your wrist. It's a cute thing that Bakugou gifted you a few months ago. It was a simple purple band with two star charms on its ends and a little saturn charm in the middle. He has a matching one in blue.

"It's beautiful, 'suki. Why saturn?" You had asked.

"Uh... I don't- I read somewhere that it kinda symbolises growth and commitments. And you know, that fits us." Katsuki answered, withholding the fact that he spent three hours reading multiple astrology sites about it even though he quite frankly thinks it's bullshit but didn't want to get the meaning wrong anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause I wanna fucking commit to you and I'm gonna be everything you’ll ever need.”

The bracelet jingles lightly as you fidget with it. Your phone lays on your bed with no signs of him calling and a deep crushing sigh escapes you as you prepare yourself for another night of tossing and turning. The memory of what the bracelet meant lulls you to sleep and you're left wondering if he's still wearing it too, which makes you wonder even more if he's missing you as much as you're missing him or if he's missing you at all. It's hardly noticeable but you think your cheeks feel damp as your eyes fall close.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In his own room, Bakugou lets the dumbbell he's curling fall to the floor. He barely hears the resounding thud it makes or his mom yelling at him for dropping the weight like that. He flops onto his bed, arms spread and neck spotted with sweat. His mind swims with thoughts of you and he wishes it wasn't so hard for him to just fucking open up to you. His insides twist just thinking about the way he left things with you, it makes him feel stupid and he hates it.

It's not like he doesn't want to take you to the prom. If anything, he'd love to do that. He wants to show you off so bad. Have you all pretty, draped over his arm and looking gorgeous in whatever dress you wanted to wear. God does he want to, he wants everyone to see you with him and he'd bask in his smugness that no one else gets to have you like this but him. He'd relish in the absolute envy on anyone else's face as that saw you with him. Because everyone knows, including himself, that you're too good for him. And now he's gone and fucked it all up.

For all the confidence he exudes, Bakugou Katsuki is actually not someone who's void of insecurities. If anything, his confidence is just a front to his crackling interior. But not always, because sometimes he is quite the hot shit. Anyway.

Contrary to your belief, he doesn't want to go to the prom for your sake. He's heard the things people have said about you- or rather, he's heard what has been said about you in regards to your relationship with him. Just thinking about it makes him feel nauseous all over again. He wasn't supposed to hear it, he thinks.

He'd been walking past the girl's toilet whilst looking for you. It wasn't on him that girls talk so fuckin' loudly. Like c'mon, in his defence, if you're going to talk shit about someone, at least do it quietly so that the person aforementioned won't hear his own name like a siren beckoning him to eavesdrop. So really, it's not his fault for pressing his back against the wall to hear the rest. He can't put a name to the two voices (why would he be able to) but from what they're saying, they know him apparently.

..."... I bet he's forcing her. To date him, I mean."

"I don't know... they seem pretty lovey-dovey and all gross to me. If you ask me, she should leave now and find someone better."

"That's called conditioning. Or like, stockholm syndrome. I mean, let's be serious, who wants to willingly date Bakugou of all people. He's like if the word aggression was personified. He's mental, I swear."

They laugh, gaudy.

"I bet he's gonna show up to the dance with the poor girl, 'cause he's way too fucking clingy. Have you noticed that he's practically by her side almost 24/7. Hope they don't turn up together, like give that girl a break."

So. He wasn't supposed to hear that. He wasn't supposed to fucking hear that, and for a good fucking reason. At that moment, it felt like his heart was stuck in his throat while simultaneously, his stomach dropped to his ass. He doesn't cry. He's not that bothered by it. But it makes his head spin that people actually think of him like that.

By then, he wasn't thinking straight, because if he was, then he'd know not to make assumptions about how everyone felt about him based on two girls' conversation. Alas, he's not thinking straight, so, fuck it.

He doesn't know if you remember but he barely said anything when he walked you home.

It hurt him, but everything they said about him wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. It was the way they talked about you that got to him. How you were unhappy or being forced, they said. It's the way he's tried his hardest to pour his heart and soul into you and him and it's still seemingly not enough for people around him to think that you're both undeniably gone for each other.

It makes him upset, because he thinks he's been doing a pretty good job at showing you just how much you mean to him, but apparently fuckin' not. He's obviously not doing something right. Which makes him feel frustrated because he can't figure it out. He tells you he loves you plenty. Okay, maybe not plenty but he does say it. He says it and he knows you know that he’s trying to show it in his own words. He always keeps a jacket for you, he’s never let you fail a test since you got together and he always always makes you extra food that he makes for himself. Maybe he’s done something wrong along the way.

It's not like he unintentionally made the food spicy for you. Sometimes it just slips his mind that your portion can't be the same level of spicy as his is. And he knows how sad you get when you fail an exam, which is why he forgoes normal dates to sit and study with you. Of course he'd much rather do something like hiking or fucking, he doesn't know, laser tag with you, but he'd always put your education first. He knows how much it means to you after all.

An ugly feeling nags at him. It makes him want to pull away from you, show some distance so people would stop talking for a bit. But another part of him wants to run to your house right now and tell you I'm sorry. please don't leave. I can do better. Neither of those feelings actually make him do anything, though, because he's stubborn and refuses to cave.

Ugh. He thinks, before promptly passing out on his bed.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The evening of the prom arrives. You're standing in front of your mirror, all dressed up and pretty. Your dress accentuates your curves amazingly and you've adorned your cheeks with small star-shaped rhinestones and sprayed a generous amount of body glitter all over yourself. The shimmer makes itself known in every crevice of your room but it doesn't bother you right now.

An imaginary Bakugou makes himself comfortable on your bed. He's eyeing you up and down and groaning appreciatively at the sight he's been blessed with. Fuckin' gorgeous, he says, just like you know he would if he were actually here. You're wearing his colours after all.

Your hands smooth down your dress incessantly for the nth time that night, as if getting rid of the imperceptible wrinkles on your dress would get rid of the thoughts in your head as well. It doesn't, but it makes you feel calmer. Maybe some would call it dramatic, or stupid, but you don't even really feel like going without him.

You don't want to miss out on your prom, and you still want to dance with your friends and eat cheap shitty food though. So maybe your hair droops a little, akin to your mood, but you leave your house shining and smiling anyway.

And when you get there, things start looking up. Whoever's in charge of the music has been doing an amazing job of not playing Closer by the Chainsmokers on repeat yet so that's win in your book. In fact, they're not playing any songs that would give the average retail worker war flashbacks, which means they're doing a phenomenal job.

The hall is mostly full by the time you and your friends find a table near the back. There's a line at the punch table and you can already tell that it's probably spiked with something judging by the students practically dry-humping one another on the dancefloor, much to one of the school's chaperone's dismay.

The first hour passes by without a hitch. The buffet table is lined with cheap pizzas, stale fries and other questionable foods like jello cups that you're not sure is even made with real jelly. But your friends eat it anyway and you do too because food poisoning's all part of the party package.

At the back of the hall, there's a photo booth with props and signs for everyone to take. Your friends and yourself take ungodly amounts of pictures at the booth, laughing loudly without a care in the fucking world. You don't let yourself think about how Bakugou would scoff at the choice of props, you refuse to let yourself think about how he'd pose after choosing something equally stupid and you absolutely do not let yourself think about how much brighter you'd be smiling if he were here with you. You don't.

The sound system blares songs from bands you're somewhat familiar with, the bass of the songs echo and reverberate throughout the dancehall. It amplifies the adrenaline running through your veins as you jump around with the rest of the people in the hall. It feels silly and unnatural but you're giggling and swaying and it isn't so bad when you've got your girls right next to you doing the same thing.

It's easy to forget about all the aches when you let yourself get lost in the crowd. You're pushed into the middle of the dancefloor that's definitely filled with people who don't go to your school.

A song that you vaguely recognise by The Weeknd plays over the speakers and it's so fast paced that your heart thumps to the bass of the song. The tremors echo through the hall, shaking the floor and it becomes so easy to forget why you were upset in the first place.

The song ends and cheers from half-drunk high schoolers fills the temporary silence that follows. The DJ announces that he's about to slow things down a little for a kick of romance. He stretches out the word romance so it sounds more like roooowmaynceee and when the music fades into something mellower, it becomes even easier to remember.

It becomes increasingly harder to ignore the pitiful glances your friends send your way as they're whisked away by their own dates. Humiliation and longing pools in your belly as you watch your friends get their waists held and their bodies swayed and it fucking sucks. Even though you wave dismissively at them, it does look quite pathetic when you slowly move to stand against the wall by yourself.

Your eyes sweep over the couples dancing, and you pray that no one asks you to dance while you're being a wallflower. You don't think you'd want to dance with anyone but him anyway. Distantly, your mind wanders to Bakugou, and you're left thinking about what he must be doing at this hour. Maybe he's studying, or watching a movie, or cooking something inedible like always. Maybe he's already asleep. Maybe he's missing you and he's on his way over here right now.

Nobody is crueler to you than yourself, you think, as you let your mind wander dangerously into that false pretence of hope that he might change his mind about showing up.

There's a phantom feeling that glides over your skin as you watch your friends dance, and you wrap your hands around your elbows to soothe it. The sweat from your earlier dancing cools off as the air in the hall gets cooler and you're not sure if it's the crisp, cold air, or the fact that you're painfully aware of Katsuki's absence that makes your throat sting each time you inhale.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

In the end, Katsuki's mother is the one who quite literally knocks some sense into him. Mitsuki Bakugou is not a force to be reckoned with, ever, and as tough and cool Katsuki makes himself seem, he'll always be a little bit intimidated by his mom. It's why he tries to seem as nonchalant as possible as he sits on his couch while staring unblinkingly at the TV.

Mitsuki pops her head into the living room. Fuck, he didn't think she'd be home so soon.

"Katsuki? What the hell are you still doing here?"

"You going crazy, hag? It's a Friday night, am I not allowed to take a fuckin' break or what?" He swallows.

"Language, asshat. And I just stopped by Inko's, brat, I know what day it is today," she sighs annoyedly before plopping down next to him, "She tried to show me Every. Single. Photo of Izuku in his tux. I had to tell her I left the stove on to get out of there. So quit the bullshit. Why are you still here?"

Katsuki has a pillow in his lap and he squeezes it until his knuckles turn pale so his voice won't waver.

"She didn't want me to take her," he lies, hoping his mom will take the bait.

Mitsuki shoves her son's head to the side good-naturedly, "I thought I told you to quit the bullshit, brat. That girl adores the hell out of you for some fucking reason, so don't try to lie to me."

It's that one goddamn line that has him snapping at her. It's her words and the stupid girls in the stupid fucking toilet and it's an amalgamation of everything that has him wanting to tear his fucking hair out that makes him lose it.

"Yeah, okay, fuck you too mom. You're right, I don't fucking know why someone like her wants to be with someone as fucked up and angry and- and mean and aggressive as I am too, alright? Everyone at school already fucking wonders why she even wants me so I didn't take her to this stupid fucking prom 'cus maybe they'll get off my back about fucking forcing her to be with me. I'm not in the goddamn mood to be hearing about this shit so fuck off. I wish I knew what the fuck she sees in me that's so good but I don't so just stop this fucked up interrogation, God."

He's not even looking at the TV anymore. He spits out his outburst while staring straight at his hands fisted in the poor pillow. It'll never uncrease now. His jaw is clenched so tightly he's scared his teeth might just shatter in his mouth. He doesn't want to look at his mom right now, too afraid to see her pitiful gaze directed at him. Doesn't want to hear her say you're right Katsuki, I don't know what she sees in you either.

Katsuki braces himself for an impact, knowing he's probably about to get smacked for talking to her like that. He doesn't expect the hand that gently lands atop his head, and he doesn't expect the hand that's curling behind his ears to turn his head towards her. Mitsuki looks at her son, making sure he really looks at her this time.

"Katsuki." She says, as gentle as the first time she held him in her arms. It doesn't matter how many years have passed, he looks just as small to her right now, and just like the day he was born, she will wrap him up and make sure he knows how loved he is.

"Katsuki, listen. I'm sorry for saying that," Mitsuki exhales, "It was a joke, but it was insensitive and I'm sorry. Every other time I said something like that about you wasn't true either. You're a good son and a good student and a good person. It doesn't matter what anyone else thinks, or says about you because the people who truly care about you know that you're a good fucking person, Katsuki."

Katsuki can barely hold eye contact with her. As embarrassing as it is, his vision blurs over and he will never acknowledge the way his voice breaks. "Mom," he shudders, "I'm always trying so fucking hard. I want to be good, please."

A noise that sounds like a choked back sob escapes him unwillingly. Mitsuki pulls his face into her shoulder and smiles when he barely resists. He fits just like he did before he thought hugging her wasn't cool anymore.

"You are good. You are so good, Katsuki." she whispers, "You always help to cook, and you keep the house clean and your grades up. You don't speak politely but you are honest and you are just like me. You use your hands, actions, to communicate rather than words. But you know, Katsuki, sometimes the people we love need to hear it from us too, okay? We'll both work on that."

A miniscule nod. "I'll start right now, Katsuki. You may be a brat sometimes, but you are my son. My sun. You are good, and kind and for everything you do not love about yourself, I love it tenfold."

He absolutely does not break at that. Katsuki bites back a whine, and exhales shakily again, soaking in her words like a sponge because he knows these moments for them come few and far in between. He doesn't mind. He thinks it's special that way, cherishing it whenever it does happen even more.

Mitsuki cards her hands through his hair, "You're a winner, Katsuki, that's why you have your name. Don't let whatever happened get to you like this. If you don't go to that stupid prom, you'll be making the biggest mistake of your life. Because I love you very much, and it might even be possible that that girl of yours loves you just as much, or maybe even a smidge more. Get your ass changed, and talk to her, alright? I know it's scary, letting someone in, but you care about her and you need to do this."

Katsuki pulls away from her, wiping his face roughly with his arms. He sniffles harshly, trying to erase all traces of the vulnerability he just showed. He bites his lip hard enough to almost draw blood. He wants to say he loves her back but the words fail him. Not yet, he thinks.

"I don't know what colour her dress is." He says instead.

"Wear your red suit. Don't ask questions, go get ready. You're already late, I'll call a cab for you."

Katsuki nods, getting up to walk to his room. He's halfway up the stairs when he pauses for a second. "Thanks mom. Love you."

Mitsuki waves her hand dismissively in his direction.

Katsuki stands in front of his mirror, inspecting everything he sees as if that'll change the way he feels about himself. His mom talking to him helped a lot, but he's still finding it hard to breathe and it's not just because his collar is choking him a bit. He fiddles with his bracelet. He tries to ground himself as he thinks about whether he should put on a different suit.

He really wishes he listened to what you were saying when you were talking about your dress. What if he shows up and his suit clashes with your dress? That would just make your night worse.

It's ridiculous. He knows he's just procrastinating. Because thinking about suit colours is easier than thinking about the crippling insecurity that still sits heavily on his shoulders, shackling him with the sheer weight of it all. He'd rather think about the colour of your dress than the fact that he feels like he can't give you what you deserve in a boyfriend.

His reflection frowns back at him.

The words you said play in his head like a broken record. You are the worst, you told him. He thinks of all the things he never really says to you because for some reason his emotionally constipated self just can't bring himself to say them. (Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes you never trip on your shoelaces if they're untied, that your hair never tangles in the wind, that if your drink spills not a drop of it would touch you, that your hands are always warm, that you'd never forget to bring your headphones before you leave the house and that you're always safe whenever he's not with you. Because he says I love you, but he means he hopes that if the sky were to drizzle, the raindrops themselves would feel privileged just to be able to fall upon your skin. Because he says I love you but he means he hopes you know he wants to say it right to your face, and into your mouth and kiss the words and every version of it's meaning into the space where your shoulder meets your neck every morning when he wakes up and every night before he lets himself succumb to slumber. He says I love you, but he means more than what those words convey. He says I love you, but he means stay warm, stay safe. He says I love you but he means my heart belongs more to you than me. He says I love you but he means he'll never want anything else for as long as he lives if it meant you'd always stay with him. He says I love you but he means come home to me and keep coming home to me, please.)

Oh.

If he could kick himself for being so stupid, he would. But he can't so he'll let you do it for him instead. I am not a coward, he tells himself as his unsteady hands try to make his hair look less of a mess. It doesn't work so he leaves it be and dashes out the door with an undone tie around his neck and he hastily side-hugs his mom- dodging her attempts to groom him- before throwing himself into the cab.

He doesn't make it a habit to show up late, but hopefully this time you'll forgive him. This time showing up late is better than not at all.

He's never made it a habit to show up late but maybe this time showing up late is better than not showing up at all. He drums his fingers nervously on his thigh throughout the entire ride. He hopes to God you're having fun. He hopes you know he's on the way. He hopes, and hopes and prays that he hasn't lost his chance.

When he arrives, he doesn't even spare a glance for his own friends, too preoccupied with finding you. The hall isn't very big but the space is large enough that he has to walk around a few times just to spot you.

The minute he sees you leaning against the wall, he wishes desperately he could go back in time. He'd do fucking anything to erase that faraway look in your eyes. He can see the way you're yearning to be one of the couples on the dancefloor and he wants to unwrap your hands around yourself and replace it with his own.

Katsuki breathes in deep and makes his way towards you cus damn it, if you wanted a dance, he'll give you a fucking dance alright.

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

The last slow song finally slowly tunes out, transitioning into a more upbeat one. The couples finally disentangle themselves from one another and you're just about to step back onto the dancefloor when a very familiar pair of arms snake around your waist.

You didn't even see him come in. It doesn't matter how he apparated here, because the only thing that matters right now is the fact that he showed up and the way his arms fit snugly around your hips. A breathless sound of disbelief escapes your lips as he pulls you into him when you turn around to face him.

If he's surprised by the lack of anger or disappointment on your face, he doesn't show it. All he knows is the feeling of your arms coming up to rest up on his shoulders. With the way you're beaming up at him, anyone would think that the only thing he did was show up almost two hours late. He knows better though, he knows he fucked up when all you wanted was for him to bring you to this stupid dance. And on God, would he try his hardest to make it up to you.

Katsuki leans into you, burying his nose into your hair that's all pinned up and pretty. He's getting glitter all over his face and suit and he doesn't care at all.

"I'm sorry," he exhales, letting the apology spill out of him, "'M so fuckin' sorry, princess."

It's so quiet, you almost think he never said it at all. In the background, you can just barely register the lyrics of Paramore's Still Into You that's currently playing. A litany of 'thank yous' is mentally conveyed to the DJ.

"And what are you sorry for?"

Katsuki clenches his jaw, his eyes darting away from yours like he's struggling not to look away. He groans before telling you, "There’s been rumours going on, people talking shit like they know us. Saying fuck all, running their fuckin’ mouths about how you could do better than me. And it’s stupid that I believed them for even a millisecond, I know. Then I realised that if I let you show up here alone then i’d just be proving those fuckers right. So, you win, princess. I took you to this stupid prom. I showed up, ‘m here right now."

Even though it's been said before, the lack of confidence Katsuki has in himself is absolutely baffling. It's like he can admit he has flaws and weaknesses and he'll know exactly what the problem is but he won't fucking talk to you for some reason you can't figure out.

Nvermind, you figured it out.

He's scared. Bakugou Katsuki is fearless. He's not afraid of anything, because he knows everything he's afraid of can be defeated one way or another. His fear of failure is conquered with his efforts in order to secure success. His fear of inferiority to anyone that's a threat towards him can be overtaken by brandishing his own achievements like a sword, or like armour. But when you come along, suddenly it becomes: Bakugou Katsuki was fearless.

The only thing he's scared of is losing you. That’s something that he alone can’t control, because you could very well decide to leave him if you ever felt like it. He realises that if he didn't show up tonight, the chances of that happening would be much much higher, and then if he lost you, he'd be a loser. Bakugou Katsuki is not a loser.

Your chest tightens at the thought that he actually believed that you’d leave him for someone better, as if someone like that even existed. One of your hands reaches up to curl around his neck, forcing him to look at you. You shake your head firmly when he tries leaning away.

You’re glad your voice remains steady when you say, "You should've talked to me. ‘Suki, I can’t believe you almost blew me off because of some shit some people we don’t even know thought about us. They don’t know anything about us, alright? They don’t fucking know how good I have it with you and you shouldn't keep all that to yourself next time, okay?”

His grip tightens, “You should’ve heard them though. Girls are fuckin’ ruthless. Talking about how easily you could just fuck off and get with someone better. Saying I... I'm forcing you to be with me. Fuck, it made me feel like shit ‘cause I knew there was some truth in what they said. I know I can stand to be nicer to you.”

Your hands find their way to his undone tie and you tug, “Katsuki, I don’t care about what they said. You hear me?”

Once he nods, you go on, "I couldn't do any better than you, because you're already the best. You said it yourself. If you think I deserve better, then be better, 'cause I don't want anyone but you. So stop trying to push me away. Whoever started all this can fucking eat our asses 'cause clearly they don't need their mouths if all they're gonna do is talk shit."

"Holy fuck, you really need to stop spending so much time with me." Katsuki snorts.

With a laugh, he twirls you around two times all while complaining that you're starting to sound exactly like him. But you’re not so sure he really minds so much judging by the way he grins wickedly at you. When his arms go back to their rightful place, you rest your forehead against his chest, "Also, let me? 'Suki, I did show up here alone. Which means that technically, you didn't really take me here, you know? 'Cause I had to come here all by myself."

Katsuki huffs and puffs, and leans back far enough to flick your forehead softly. He sways you slowly to the music, despite how fast the music is, "What matters is that I'm here. I’m fuckin' sorry for making you show up here all alone. Look, I’m even dancing with ya, ain’t that enough?”

Am I enough?

Katsuki says all that like he's exasperated with you but really he's posing it as a question. He's asking, and looking for a chance to redeem himself. Like always, you rest even more of your weight against him, knowing you can let yourself go boneless against him and he'll hold you all the same. He's all strong and soft and sturdy and you can hear his heartbeat thundering beneath his clothes and you make sure he can hear you when you say, "You've always been more than enough."

You can feel the way any lingering tension escapes him when you tell him that. He tells you softly, promises you that he'll start opening up more to you, and he kisses you on the cheek to really seal it in. The song echoes throughout the room, thrumming in your veins and making you feel weightless.

Some things just, some things just make sense and one of those is you and I.

His eyes don't waver as he really takes you in, savouring the image of how good you look. He sears the image of you into his brain and he hopes you know how serious he means when he rasps, "Fuck, ya look gorgeous by the way. Absolutely fucking stunnin' and I really fuckin' wish no one else but me could look at ya." His hands run down your sides slowly and squeeze at your hips, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin.

Heat quickly floods your cheeks and pools in your tummy, and his hands tighten his hold on you. You grin at him, "Well, ignoring your tie, I think you look very handsome as well. I'm surprised our colours didn't clash."

Katsuki barks a laugh at that. If only you knew.

It's quite the scene to see you and him swaying gently to such a hyped up tune. Everyone mostly crowds up around the front of the hall. But you and Katsuki hang back from the big mass of sweaty bodies, choosing to stand nearer to the opposite end of the room. If your friends look at you weird, you don't take notice. It's as if you're in your own little world; just you and him.

The second chorus sounds and Katsuki dips you as low as he can get before you yell at him. When you come back up, he's looking at you all starry eyed, staring directly at your lips. He can't stop himself, he cuts you off while you're singing along to kiss you right then. He swallows the little 'mmphrh!' that comes out of your throat greedily, sliding one of his hands up your back all the way to the cuff of your neck to press you even closer into him.

"Fuckin' missed you and your pretty fucking mouth, baby." he sighs breathlessly into you.

It's barely a chaste kiss, looking quite messy for a high school prom. Thankfully no staff member comes in between you and him, so he pulls away slowly before leaning back in. He kisses you once, twice and then some more and even a fifth and sixth time, like he's making up for all the days he didn't.

After he's satisfied with all the kisses he's peppered on your face, he leans away, smiling sillily. "She's right, you know?"

Your eyebrows furrow but your lips quirk up anyway, "What are you talking about?"

Katsuki spins you slowly, "The singer. She's right," and leads you back into him before singing monotonously, "After all this time, I'm still into you."

"You are such a loser, that was so cringe. Oh my god, what the fuck," you laugh, but your heart squeezes in affection.

Katsuki doesn't know if it's the haphazardly hung disco ball and the flashing lights that makes your eyes shine and sparkle or if it's just you, but he can't tear his eyes away from you. You're looking at him like he split the oceans for you, and he thanks every star in the sky that you're letting him hold you this close again.

If he knew how unreal you’d look when you’re dancing in his arms, he never would’ve ditched this thing. What a shame, he thinks, that he missed out on two whole hours that could have been spent with you looking like this. Maybe it’s the air in the hall but he feels practically giddy at the sight of you enjoying yourself, and it makes his heart fucking leap because it’s him that’s making you smile like that.

The sides of his mouth hurt from how much they've been stretched tonight, but he can't keep the smile off his face when you say, "You're right though. She is right."

He hums along to the tune, because denies it as he may, he absolutely loves this song just as much as you do.

Your eyes drink up the sight of Katsuki dressed up so… in character. His hair is as messy as ever, his tie hangs loose and undone around his neck and you’re sure his suit jacket has seen better days but he looks fucking ethereal to you. He’s all lethal grins and loud laughter and his cologne smells as spicy and warm as it always does and you realise again just how in love you are with him.

Katsuki’s eyes are gleaming, and maybe it’s just a trick in the light but you’re reminded of just how lucky you are to have him like this. Because maybe he is brash and harsh when he talks to you, but he’s never treated you like you’re anything but the most important thing in his life. To him, you’re his favourite person in the whole world, and he doesn’t need to say it out loud because he knows you know it too.

So maybe Katsuki isn't easy to read, or deal with. That doesn't mean he's not easy to love. Because loving him was like breathing— instinctual and  inevitable. You loved him the way the moon loved the ocean, and the way the sun loved the stars. Loving him was the easiest thing you've ever done in your life, and you knew that wasn’t ever going to change.

And baby even on our worst nights, I'm into you. Let 'em wonder how we got this far, 'cause I don't really need to wonder at all. Yeah, after all this time, I'm still into you

⚝ ⚝ ⚝

(extra)

Later, when the two of you have sufficiently made out against the wall enough for the chaperones to flick water at Katsuki so he'll finally pull away, you'll find his hand and pull him along to the rest of your friends.

Kirishima will see you two and laugh, telling Katsuki he's glad he pulled his head out of his ass. Katsuki will hiss, "Kay why ess..." and drag you to the photo booth. You won't tell him, but you're secretly glad that you were right. He does scoff at the assortment of props but he picks up a stupid styrofoam emoji of a bomb.

He pushes you into the booth and sets the timer for the picture. Right as it's about to go off, he looks at you very seriously as he says, "You put the boom-boom into my heart," before absolutely smashing the emoji against your cheek.

"KATSU I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU-"

The photos come out blurry and you're wide-mouthed and laughing in all of them. He's looking at you like you're the only thing that exists. There’s barely any inches between you and him like you’re the sun and he’s every planet that orbits your celestial body.

Katsuki walks you home afterwards, laughing and stealing your body heat as he delivers you to your doorstep. When you kiss him goodnight, he thinks he must have known you in every life before this one for him to have the capacity to love you as much as he does. He keeps his copy of the photo in his wallet, signing the back with 'still into you xx'.

Not that he needs the reminder.

[asshlyyyy]

Just The Nurse

Series Warnings: Language, Drug abuse, mentions of abuse, mentions of drugs. Colonel not liking the reader, probably some medical terms are incorrect, mentions of Elvis' potential death, health terms, health issues, yelling, fighting. Spelling and grammatical errors are likely. Individual chapter warnings will appear as needed.

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Chapter 3: Unchained Melody

"I need the goddamn pills!" Elvis yelled, his face red as he looked at you through the mirror.

"No, you don't! Just calm down!" You argued with him. The two of you stood in his hotel bathroom. His hands on the counter, knuckles turned white from the tight grip.

"How the hell am I supposed to go on stage like this?!" He argued and looked back at you. He already had sweat dripping down his forehead. You let out a sigh and rubbed your face. Every time he went to perform a concert, he always got like this. Well, for the most part. He wanted to make sure he put on an amazing show, and you knew that his stress and anger were fueled by the colonel.

"Calm down will ya! Just stop! Listen to me!" You begged him.

"I am sick and tired of listenin' to ya! I should just go to Dr. Nic." He shook his head.

"Don't you fucking dare. I will jump on you." You warned him. You moved your body away from the door frame, just in case you would have to.

"Do it I'll fuckin' throw ya on the floor." He sucked in a breath. 

"You're just stressed! You're going to be amazing! You're fucking Elvis Presley!" You raised your voice.

"Damn right I am, you should be listin' to me, not the other way around!"

"I don't want to listen to anything that comes out of your mouth! Because all it is... it's whining! Every single bit!" You were now just angry at him at this point. He clenched his fist and looked at you. There was no way you were going to let him relapse. Not under your watch.  He reached his hand up as to hit you, but instead, he reached into his belt and pulled out the gun, and shot it at the mirror. You let out a light squeal and shielded yourself.

"Jesus Christ, Elvis! The hell are you tryin' to do! You're going to alert everyone!" You yelled at him.

"Just get me some pill-"

You didn't know what came over you, but you slapped him... and you slapped him hard... He looked at you and it's like everything inside him was lit on fire. He grabbed hold of your wrist, it wasn't a hard grip, but it was something.

"I-I'm sorry y-you- you just- I'm sorry." You struggled to say. Elvis let out a sigh and shook his head. He let go of your wrist after a bit and walked past you towards the couch. He plopped down and placed his head in his hands. You took a moment to yourself to process everything... You then walked over towards him. You took a seat next to him and brought your feet up to your chest.

"You're nervous... and... you're mad at yourself for that." You started to speak and looked over at him. "You want pills to forget about that worry. To calm your nerves. They don't do that," you shook your head. He lifted his head and looked at you.

"You think they're the answer to everything... so... you keep drowning them... every day... every hour... you want the pain to leave. To go out on stage and put on one hell of a show... Do- … Do you know how my brother got in a coma?" He shook his head no. That was a silly question to ask... of course, he wouldn't know.

"He was nervous. He got nervous a lot... asking someone out... going for a job interview... He got nervous about everything... I gave him something to help. It was one little pill... but that's all it takes. When I wasn't looking... he kept digging for more... and once that high ran out... he went for more... and more... and more... I blame myself every single day since I found him passed out.  He blames himself... I blame myself... but... Elvis... I- I don't know what I would do if I found you passed out... I- or even dead..." You found yourself starting to tear up.

"I mean... I'm here to save you and..." you shook your head. "I wouldn't know how to feel. Not to mention all the hate I would get... People would blame me... People would definitely send me death threats... and I-" You felt an arm wrap around you and soon you were engulfed in Elvis' chest. You let out a shaky breath and gripped his shirt lightly.

"I ain' gonna die, honey. Especially when you're watchin' out for me." He spoke gently.  He ran his hand against your back gently. A knock broke you guys out of your sentimental moment, and a voice piped up.

"Mr. Presley, you're on soon." 

"They always bother me at the worse times." He sighed and looked at you with his beautiful eyes. 

"Always seems like it," you let out a light chuckle and shook your head.

"I should get down there before they think I ran." Elvis kissed the side of your head. You nodded slightly and pulled away. 

"Yeah... yeah..." You stood up and fixed your shirt. "Come on then." You wiped away the few stray tears that ran down your face.

Elvis stood up and held his hand against the small of your back. The two of your made it out of his room and down to the showroom. It didn't take long until you guys were at the edge of the stage. Elvis looked at you before he had to go on stage. He knew it was still on your mind. It was his fault, it's all his fault. His anger issues... everything really.

"I'll have ya on my mind the whole time," Elvis said and pressed a kiss to your cheek. He pulled away and left you astonished as he walked onto the stage. Did that really just happen? I mean... obviously, something happened.

Maybe he was just being nice? He didn't like you in general, there was no way he would like you... like as a romantic partner... You were lost for words really. All you guys did was fight, and fight. Sure you had some moments where things were calm and maybe you thought something was there... but...

It's been half a year now since you stepped into Graceland. While Elvis has pretty much accepted that there was no way to get rid of you... there were still moments where you two argued and he would break shit. I think that's when you got the most scared. He did get violent but he would... never hurt you. You didn't know how long you were standing there until you heard Elvis change up directions.

"I Uh- heh- I want to dedicate this next song to someone very special to me. She's uh- She's a pain in the ass," he chuckled lightly, "her name is Y/n." You looked out towards the stage and watched as he moved over the piano. What was he doing... and why? He's going too far now. Is he proclaiming his love for you? What the hell was happening right now? He is dedicating a song to you. What... is... happening!?

"This song is not my song... Uh- it's by the righteous brothers. I hope y'all enjoy it."

You didn't know why, but you wanted to sink down. You wanted to disappear. You felt so many things. Embarrassment yes, but you felt flattered. How many songs did he dedicate to people in his life? Okay, don't answer that. You didn't want to know. You wanted to live in a world where you were the only one. 

"Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered for your touch. A long, lonely time. And time goes by so slowly. And time can do so much. Are you still mine? I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me"

Part of you wanted to cry. Part of you wanted to run away. You couldn't fall in love with your patient... he wasn't really a patient... technically... but you were his caregiver... For the most part. It was wrong to love someone whom you took care of... This was your job... Just a job... it's just a job.

"Lonely rivers flow. To the sea, to the sea. To the open arms of the sea. Lonely rivers cry... wait for me, wait for me. I'll be coming home, wait for me."

His blue eyes found yours from across the stage. It was like no one else was there but you... he was singing to you... for you... with you in his mind. It's like whatever happened earlier changed something in him, but... he's fallen for you way before that... you just didn't know.

"Oh, my love, my darling. I've hungered for your touch... a long, lonely time. I need your love. I need your love. God speed your love to me"

Chills ran all over your body. Goosebumps laid across your bare skin. Your own eyes were locked onto his. It was like... it was like a serenade really. Something you never imagined to ever receive. Hell, you weren't even married at this time and you were in your thirties. Yeah... Most girls your age were married... had some kids even... yet here you were. Standing backstage staring back at Elvis Presley.

"Miss. Y/l/n," you turned your head to the sound. Colonel Tom Parker stood behind you. He held a wicked grin and you knew it meant something bad. Ever since you first met him... you felt that there was something sketchy about him, and it wasn't that he was just mistreating Elvis. 

"Yes?" You asked with a sweet voice.

"I'd like to talk to you for a moment." He said like he wasn't already talking to you.

"Then talk," you replied simply. You couldn't hear much of what he was saying, and you wanted to keep it that way.

"Let's go somewhere quieter." He suggested, holding his cane out towards the hallway.

"Whatever you have to say, you can tell me right here." You said Ever since you saw him and Dr. Nic trying to give Elvis pills... you always had this feeling that... that they would do something. Put something in his water... put something in his food... You just didn't trust them at all. It's like they wanted complete control over him... Well... that- or they wanted to kill him.

"Well, it's just a bit too loud... Can't exactly hear each other." He chuckled lightly. You shook your head and just figured it was best to get it over with.

"You have five minutes," you stated and started to walk down the hallway. You too walked into a small room that was most likely used for storage. The Colonel found a free space and took it upon himself to sit down. He looked at you.

"Now, I know something about you Miss Y/l/n." He started to speak. You looked at him confused. "I know you aren't who you say you are."

"What are you trying to say?" You looked at him with a raised eyebrow, arms folded across your chest.

"I know Vernon hired you to try... and 'save' Elvis. It would be a shame if word got out that you killed your brother with your... medications... the same ones you're giving Elvis."

"I didn't kill my brother. He's alive." You got even more confused with every word that came out of his mouth. 

"Are you sure about that?" He raised his eyebrow. This man- what is he- what is even happening? This whole night is just a big whole mess of~ You didn't even know what to call it. 

"Don't try and lie to me. I know my brother is alive, so whatever lies you try to tell me... I'm not listening." You shook your head. You couldn't believe that he would try to pull something like this... well... it didn't shock you much.

"You will... When you look at those headlines... Y/n Y/l/n... Elvis' personal nurse is killing him." He spoke. You just shook your head in response.

"You're the one killing Elvis" You spat back. You couldn't believe that he was blaming you, you were trying to save him after all.

"That's not what the papers will say if you don't leave."

"So what you're threatening me now?" You let out a laugh and shook your head.

"I'm ruining your career, sweetheart, now leave before someone comes and kills you." He spoke. You let out a breath and shook your head.

You didn't want to believe him, but you knew he would do it. You didn't want to leave Elvis... but you knew you had to. You let out a sigh and turned on your heel and walked away. 

It didn't matter how long you've known Elvis. You've felt like you've known him for years... Back when he was just getting started with Music you were in school. You were extremely lucky and fortunate to be able to go to school. Your family wasn't rich... so... school wasn't exactly in mind for you.

You knew who Elvis was the moment his first single gave out. All your friends were talking and playing it. Then on breaks when you would go home... Your sister was playing it. You never escaped Elvis... It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but... 

You made your way through the white walls. People rushed around, loud and yelling. Your heart was falling at this moment. It felt like it left your body knowing that... that you had to leave. You knew the colonel had power... He could turn your career into shit overnight. Worse... you knew somehow... somehow... he would get to your family. Kill your brother.

You made your way up to the room that you and Elvis shared. Elvis didn't want you far away from him, knowing how bad he got around the time he had a show... show he wanted you close. Always close to him. It's crazy how much can change between two people when you spend every waking second next to each other.

Truth be told... you were scared. His words kept getting to you... the death threats... someone would kill you... It wasn't the case with Elvis when he received death threats and could handle it. You... You were just a normal simple girl...You never feared for your life when you were with Elvis... but now you felt trapped. Stay for love... or leave for safety? 

I Can't Help Falling In Love With You... a song Elvis ended with for his fans, but the more he sang it... the more he sang it about you. He felt like a fool falling so quickly for someone after his divorce. You were everything though... You took care of him like no one ever did... well... at least since his mama died.

As he finished off the song and gave his fans one last look. He rushed off stage to find you. All he wanted to do was hold your face in his hands and kiss you, but when he didn't see you... and instead saw the Colonel he knew something was up. You were always there, no matter what. You made sure of that. 

"Where's Y/n?" Elvis asked, his eyes not bothering to look at Colonel

"She's packing up and leaving." The colonel answered. That made Elvis shoot his head in the Colonel's direction. There was no way you were leaving him... right?

"What? Why?" He asked.

"Well-"

"Actually, I don't want to hear your lies." Elvis shook his head and started to rush his way up to his room. You guys were all the way in Elvis, there was nowhere for you to go. Let alone any way to get home without him. No... he wouldn't let you leave... Especially not when he was about to proclaim his love for you.

As he waited impatiently in the elevator, he rushed out once it had reached his floor. He pushed open the door and you came into his sight. Body hunched over your bag as you furiously and sadly stuffed clothes in, not bothering to fold them. He could hear you sniffling and wiping away tears the moment he walked in.

"Honey," You turned at his voice and wiped away a few tears.

"I have to go, Elvis." Your voice was soft and fragile... like at any moment you could break.

"Why? And don' lie to me either." He walked closer to you. You let out a sigh and gripped the dress in your hands. You were sure you were wrinkling it up from your grip.

"Because Colonel threatened to tell everyone the truth." You breathed out.

"That truth? Ain' no one gonna care you're ma nurse." Elvis answered confused. 

"They will when he says I killed my brother! And that I'm going to kill you next!" You bursted out as tears started to fall. Elvis didn't know what to say. Elvis let out a breath and pulled you away from the luggage, and into him. You let out a sob and pressed your face up against his chest. Arms wrapped around him tightly, gripping the back of his top. You didn't want to leave, you wanted to stay with Elvis. 

"I won' let him." Elvis spoke softly. You just shook your head in response. "He can' just go be-" he stopped himself and sighed. The colonel did go behind Elvis' back and he knew that.

"I have to leave... I-I don't want people to think I'm killing you. I-" you start to whimper. Elvis lifts his finger under your chin and pushes your head up to look at him.

"Darlin', you're not leaving."

"B-but I have to..."

"No, you don't." He pressed his hands against your cheeks and caressed them lightly. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and sighed.

"If he says somethin' I'll talk against it. People will believe me more than, that conman." He spoke. Your bottom lip quivered as you tried to calm down, but you still worried about what would happen if you stayed.

"E-Elvis... I-"

Elvis pushed his lips upon yours. Your eyes widened at first, but you fell into it. Your tight grip releases into a relaxed hold... You pushed yourself up on your tippy toes and leaned into the touch. His lips... were well... They were rough, chapped... tasted like sweat... but... there was a strange feeling that you got. A good feeling. An absolutely amazing feeling.

"I love you," Elvis mumbled against your lips.

"Wh- What?" You looked at him confused. He nodded and pulled his face away. "I sound like a fool," he chuckled lightly, "a real fool."

"Yeah," you chuckled lightly and shook your head. You pulled away slightly but Elvis still held a grip on you.

"I didn't scare ya, did I?"

"Well, I've seen a lot of your outbursts, Mr. Presley. Saying you love me doesn't change anything"

"Wel.. uh... I don't mean to be pushy or anything b-"

"I love you, too." You said softly. It sounded crazy coming out of your mouth. Sure you were conflicting with yourself all day about it... but... when the time came to it... you said it without a second thought.

"No shit-"

"I was actually just thinking about it... Do I stay for love? or leave for safety..." you confessed and played with the collar of his top.

"Stay, you can have both." Elvis breathed against your neck, pressing a light kiss to it. "I'll protect you."

"But the col-"

"He's fired-"

"Elvis y-"

"No, I'm not riskin' it again." Elvis shook his head, "I fucked up with Priscilla, I'm not fuckin' up with you."

You don't know how, but you forgot all about Priscilla... which is weird considering you'll be there between exchanges. You noticed how sad he was every time... he really missed Priscilla yet... here he was talking to you, about how much he loved you. Maybe this was okay... maybe... just maybe you two can be together.

"Elvis... I-"

"Shh, no thoughts... just you and me." He takes your hand, pulling you along with him. You knew where he was taking you... and you were completely fine with that.

Elvis pushed you down onto the bed and waved his finger up and down. You knew what he meant.  Your hands shook so much you struggled to grip your shirt. Elvis laughed at your struggles and shook his head. You must've looked like a fool... but in his eyes... you were an angel.

"Relax darlin', I ain' gonna hurt you." He said gently, still getting out of his clothes. You shook your head.

"Just feeling a lot of things right now..." You admitted. Elvis leaned down and took your hands in his.

"Forget them all, I'm gonna make ya feel loved, and far beyond." He whispered and pressed his lips against yours.

You breathed heavily as Elvis plopped down next to you. His hand still enclasped in yours. Is this was love felt like? That warm bubbly feeling in your stomach? The same one that made your heart flutter every time you looked at him. You hated that you loved this man, but god... you were... you were so happy.

"You're so beautiful," Elvis whispered gently.

"Should you be telling your nurse that?" You raised an eyebrow at him as a slight smirk tugged at your lips.

"No, but I can tell my future wife that." He winked and left you breathless at your own game.

Did you die? This had to be a cruel joke right? All of it... It... It just didn't make sense. There was no way Elvis actually... he didn't love you... how could he? It just- It didn't add up. You don't fall in love that quick...  Well... usually, yet here you were. Totally head over heels for the man who swore he wanted nothing to do with you.

Funny how things change.

Beep...

Beep...

Beep

Beep

Beep

You let out a loud gasp and jerked forward. Your eyes searched around you frantically trying to figure out where you were. Your hands gripped the sheets as you felt intense pain entering your body. You could barely make out the intensified beeping in the background as voices yelled around you.

The walls were white...? Where were you? You were certainly not back at the hotel room where you and Elvis were... just a second ago. Where was Elvis?

"Doctor! She's awake!"

Who was awake? Why is there a doctor? Someone needs to talk—

Mutual Taglist: @darlinboypresley @emmymaehereeeeee @venus-haze @austinstyles

[runnning-outof-time]

I Can’t Go On Without You | Dark!Arthur Shelby x Reader

Request: no - part of @sunsetmourners 100 follower celebration

Pairing: Dark!Arthur Shelby x reader

Summary: In which Arthur will do whatever it takes in order to get (Y/N) back...even if it means crossing a line.

Warnings: language, mentions of drugs and alcohol, possessive behavior, assault, weapons, violence (typical to series)

Word Count: 3704

A/N: oh boy, y’all...this is probably the darkest story I’ve ever written. I had this idea and ran with it, and it’s not like we haven’t seen Arthur do something of the sort before. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the prompt I had was ‘are you in your right mind?’ ... I also took inspiration from KALEO’s song ‘I Can’t Go On Without You’ — it’s lyrics are bold and italicized. Congrats to @sunsetmourners again! I had fun writing this (as dark as it is) and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

———

They thought they were made for each other, only thinking of one another,

(Y/N) and Arthur had been inseparable from the second they met. Although the circumstances of their meeting was bleak: (Y/N) was coming from the putting flowers on her grandmother's grave when she stumbled upon Arthur, who'd been visiting the grave of a man he fought with in France, the relationship they built was everything but.

In the beginning, (Y/N) acted as Arthur's immediate escape from the emotions that were caused by his memories of war. But as a few years went by, and the business that Arthur and his brothers delved in became more encompassing, Arthur's escape got harder to find.

He'd oftentimes resort to the drink or even drugs; opium and cocaine being his two top choices. And (Y/N) sat by the wayside and watched as this happened, until it got to be too much.

One night, Arthur came home after having one too many. (Y/N) was having a tough day to begin with, and now on top of it, she had to take care of her boyfriend like he was her child.

"Where are ya, baby?" he mumbled as he managed to make his way through the entryway into the living area of the home they shared before he had to brace himself against one of the side tables the room had. It wobbled slightly but was able to hold his weight.

"I'm right here, Arthur," (Y/N) sighed as she stood from the couch to go over to him. "Tough night again?" she decided to ask even though she already knew the answer.

"Fuckin' barge just won't let me off of it," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"How many more nights like this will there be, Arthur?" she asked him then, her solemn eyes hooking onto his hazy ones.

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed at her question, and he took a moment to let it properly soak in before he answered her: "nights like what?"

"Like this? You comin' home drunk like you have just so that I could take care of you after all of the damage is done," she explained her statement.

"I...I can't tell you the answer to that, love," he answered, his brows still furrowed like he was still confused by the question she'd asked. "I can't put a number on how many nights like this I'll have."

"You said you were gonna change," she reminded him of his promise that he made a little over a month ago now.

"And I'm gonna," he nodded along with her.

"When?" (Y/N) was quick with the question, "when, Arthur? Because I don't know how much more of this I could take," her desperation started to show in her words now.

"(Y/N)..." he started to speak, but she wasn't finished.

"I want you to tell me now that you'll get off of all of it and that you'll try to turn yourself for the better," she essentially gave him the ultimatum; showing him the two forks in the road that he was able to pick from.

"I can't tell you that now," he shook his head slightly, having enough sense to realize that the choice she was asking him to make was not an easy one.

"Then I think we should go our separate ways," her heart broke as she said those words, but she knew that she needed to say them. She was at the end of the rope with this.

"You want to break...break up?" Arthur stuttered over the words she'd just uttered. He couldn't quite wrap his head around this. He didn't think that he'd be splitting up with his girlfriend tonight.

"Yes," (Y/N) nodded her head, dropping her gaze to the floor to hide the tears that were trying to escape her eyes. "I can't continue to do this, Arthur."

"I can't go on without you though, (Y/N)," the way he uttered these words almost broke (Y/N)'s heart for the second time, but she knew she had to stay strong. She knew she couldn't get stuck in this trap that would lead to the same old things happening over and over again.

"This is what's best for us right now though. I have to do this. I have to go," she spoke in a soft voice before she moved past him to grab her purse and coat so that she'd be able to leave their home.

Never thinking just for one second, she would take a different attraction,

Louis had been a friend of (Y/N)'s for some time now. She'd met him at her work, where he stocked shelves and she rang people up. He was a sweet man who always seemed to take a shine to her. (Y/N) noticed this, but at first she was hesitant to respond to anything. Her split from Arthur was still so fresh that even the thought of going back out and dating again made her uneasy. And Louis understood this. But he still stuck around and remained a person that she could call on when she needed something.

Eventually, after several weeks, (Y/N) was able to come around. She actually decided to ask him out to dinner one night after their shifts were finished. He was surprised, but he agreed to it, and that was the beginning of a relationship that they both decided to go slow with.

We don't want that, we don't want that, we don't want that, no no,

I can't go on without you, I can't go on without you, can't go on without you, yeah, I can't go on without you,

Louis was so unlike Arthur in many ways. He was caring, compassionate, and put together. It made (Y/N) question how she even faniced Arthur in the first place. Of course, he still held a fond spot in her heart, but now she was experiencing a completely different type of love. A type of love where she didn't need to worry if her partner was going to either come home drunk or sober.

Oh, so what's the point of breaking my sweet heart? She wanted me to let down my guard,

Arthur stayed in a state of confusion after (Y/N) left. He never realized how much she impacted his life until she left it. When he wasn't at the Garrison or one of the other pubs that the Shelby Company owned, he was sitting in the living room of his Aunt Polly's house, much like he was today.

"I...I don't know what more I could have done for her, Pol," Arthur said with a sigh as he dropped his head into his hands.

"She wanted to see you make more of a commitment to her," Polly answered, blowing the smoke of her cigarette into the room as she watched her eldest nephew struggle to come to grips with his break up. Some of her was sorry for him, but she could also admit that he did have his faults.

"She wanted me to let down my guard and I..." he paused, exhaling a long breath before continuing, "I thought I did that. I thought that I stripped everything away, showed her how I felt for her, and she went and broke my heart."

"She wanted you to get off the drink. To be around for her once in a while," Polly brought up some points, "didn't you think about where her heart was in all of this?"

"She broke me fucking heart, Pol!" Arthur repeated himself, this time with more emotion laced into his words as he jabbed his index finger into his chest for more effect.

Polly just pursed her lips as she stared over at him. The beginning of a look of disappointment was teetering on her features, but she chose not to let it show. She knew that he'd realize what had actually happened in due time. "I've seen her out with another man, you know," she changed the subject slightly as she brought the cigarette up to her lips once more.

"What?" Arthur's eyes snapped up quickly to meet his aunt's, and she almost laughed at his shocked expression.

"She's found herself a new man. I've seen him at the market, stocking shelves..."

"(Y/N) works at the market," Arthur muttered.

"He seems like a good man, and she's a smile on her face every time I've seen her," Polly continued despite Arthur's mumbling.

Well, you know what they say it's, it's better that way, so, so you better hush and walk away,

"That's not right, Pol," Arthur said as he shook his head, "that's not fucking right."

"What's not right?" she inquired, asking him to elaborate.

"That she gets to go around with this new man and I'm fucking sat here...sat here miserable," he grumbled, glaring at the floor.

"It's better this way, Arthur," Polly told him, "it's better that she's walked away."

"What's his name?" he inquired, completely ignoring his aunt's previous statement.

"What?"

"This new man. What's his name?"

Polly pursed her lips and stared Arthur down for a moment. It was almost as if she was assessing his intentions with the information. "Louis," she finally told him.

"Louis..." he tried the name out for himself, then grumbling something indiscernible under his breath.

"Better to just keep your mouth shut and walk away from all of this, Arthur," she gave him some advice, but Arthur didn't listen.

Instead he stood up and glanced over at his aunt for a moment before he started walking to the front door. "Louis," he muttered one more time before he opened the door and exited the house.

We don't want that, we don't want that, we don't want that, no no,

I can't go on without you, I can't go on without you, oh, Lord,

It didn't take long for Arthur to find Louis, and within a matter of a week, he knew a great deal about him. He learned his home address and work schedule from the man at the market who oversaw the business. He learned his daily patterns of when he was in and out of his apartment thanks to the few Peaky boys that he tasked to act as surveillance on him. And now, he was ready to confront the man.

He waited outside his apartment; leaning up against the wall in the dimly lit hallway. A quick check of the pocket watch — the one that (Y/N) gave him — told him that he had about ten more minutes until Louis would be showing his face. He was due to go to the market for his shift — the same shift (Y/N) was working on, but if Arthur’s plan went off without a hitch, the unsuspecting man wouldn’t be going anywhere today.

The time passed slowly, but Louis’ door opened at ten minutes to the hour, just like Arthur expected. He let the man take his steps out of the apartment and pushed himself off of the wall just as he was going to shut the door. “Louis,” Arthur called out, his voice low and gravelly.

Upon hearing his name, Louis glanced over his shoulder to see a rather intimidating figure approaching him. “Do I know you?” he asked, his blood running cold as he caught a glimpse of the threatening look in the other man’s eyes.

“You should,” Arthur remarked, stepping right up to the man, “let me in your apartment,” he ordered, pushing the other man on his shoulder as a way for him to get the hint that he wasn’t going to back down. Louis just stared at him in shock, unable to move or do anything. “Now,” he barked, pushing his shoulder again, this time harder. It was enough for Louis to get the hint now, and he quickly scrambled to push his door open and step back in with the other man following hot on his tail.

“What...what do you want from me?” he stuttered out, fear laced into his words as he looked at Arthur. “You can take anything...anything is yours,” he continued, then motioning to all of the stuff that filled his small apartment.

“I don’t want any of your shit,” Arthur stated, a glare on his face as he stared at the frightened man with angry eyes, “I just want back what you fucking took from me.”

A look of confusion flashed across Louis’ face for a moment before it was covered by fear. “What have I taken from you, sir?” he asked as politely as possible.

“Oh you know...” Arthur trailed off as a wicked smirk formed on his face, “you should fucking know who I am,” he continued as he took a few more steps closer to the man, backing him up towards his couch. “I’m Arthur fucking Shelby, and you’ve taken my woman...” a bit of realization flashed in Louis’ eyes, and seeing it made Arthur satisfied, “yeah...you fuckin’ took her from me. You took her from me and now I’ve gotta take matters into my own hands to get her back,” he finished his sentence by grabbing hold of Louis’ collar and yanking the man towards him with such force that it made the scared man gasp.

Can’t go on without you, I can’t go on, won’t go on, living on, without you,

“Mr. Shelby, please don’t,” the man pleaded in a whisper, holding both of his hands up as a show that he wasn’t going to fight back. This didn’t matter to Arthur though. He already had his mind made up regardless if his target was going to put up a fight or not.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for this now,” he said through gritted teeth, his free hand folding up into a fist. “Gonna fucking pay for taking my woman away from me,” and with that, he sent his fist flying to connect with Louis’ jaw. Satisfaction filled him as the man’s head twisted to the side and he let out a cry of pain.

Another punch connected with the same place before Arthur released his grip on Louis’ collar, letting him fall to the floor. Immediately, Louis was trying to crawl away from his attacker, but he really couldn’t go anywhere. “Please stop, Mr. Shelby,” he pleaded again, but Arthur was already seeing red.

“Thought you could come in and take her from me...” Arthur trailed off, his mutters coming through gritted teeth as he grabbed the heaviest thing he could find near him, which happened to be a picture frame sitting on a side table, “thought you could make her forget about me,” he continued, moving down so that he was over top of the man, his hand with the picture frame hoisted in the air; like he was giving him a preview of what was to come. “We don’t want that,” he shook his head, taking a deep breath as he brought the frame down and struck Louis on the brow. “We don’t want that,” he repeated, sending another blow to the helpless man’s face. “She loves me,” another blow. “She loves me,” and another.

After the barrage of blows was finished, Arthur dropped the frame to the side of the bloodied, but still breathing, man’s body. Louis could barely see out of his eyes now but he was still able to feel Arthur’s body kneeling on top of his, so he knew he still had to try and defend himself. “Please,” he gasped, finding it hard to breathe and speak with blood filling his mouth.

Well, was I supposed to wait for you sweetheart? And hide away the shame, yes I keep it all inside, though the thought had crossed my mind, to do all the things I’ll regret, we don’t want that,

“I’m not waiting for her to finish up with you and come back to me...” Arthur trailed off, reaching into his suit jacket to pull out the revolver from its holster, “I’m ending this right now,” he pulled back the hammer and pressed the barrel of the gun to the wounded man’s head, making his helpless cries become louder. He was pleading for his life more than before because he realized that it could be taken from him in a second.

We don’t want that, we don’t want that, we don’t want that, no no,

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t go on without you, I can’t go on without you, oh, lord, go on without you, I can’t go on without you, babe, yeah,

Arthur took several deep breaths as he gritted his teeth, pushing the barrel harder against the man’s temple with each one that he took. His finger was itching to pull the trigger, but at the same time he couldn’t. He didn’t know why he was hesitating and it was making him even more angry. He’d killed men for lesser reasons before, so why wasn’t he able to do it now? Now...when the reason was because this man had taken the only precious thing from him.

She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me, my love don’t love me,

“Please,” the man gasped again, bringing Arthur out of the inner turmoil that he was experiencing.

He gritted his teeth once more and pushed the barrel against Louis’ bloody temple again. “She loves me,” he said, his voice low as he stared down at the man like he was prey. He pushed the barrel against his skin one more time before pulling it away and setting the hammer back in its resting position.

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t shoot the man because of his fear that regret would catch up with him. Because if (Y/N) knew that he killed this man in cold blood, she wouldn’t be happy with him. And Arthur didn’t want that.

So he holstered his revolver once more and pushed himself up off of the floor, leaving Louis lying helpless as he made his way out of the apartment.

——

(Y/N) had tears stinging her eyes as she rushed her way down the street that, after tonight, she hoped she’d never set foot on again. She wanted to let the tears fall, but her anger kept them pent up. She was more angry than anything at the moment.

She began incessantly knocking on the front door in hopes that the person she needed to talk to would open up. She knew that he’d be home at this time. He was always home in the middle of the day; doing nothing but drinking and getting high.

After a few seconds, the door opened to show a confused Arthur Shelby. “You fucking imbecile!” (Y/N) exclaimed, smacking him on the chest multiple times before Arthur was able to grab her hands and stop her.

“Woah, woah, what’s going on here, love?” he asked, confused by the rather violent greeting.

“Don’t act like you don’t know why I’m here, and do not call me ‘love’! You don’t get to call me that after what you’ve done!” she exclaimed, pushing past him to enter the house so that she wasn’t airing out her dirty laundry right on the street. “I can’t believe you did that, Arthur! I can’t believe you beat the man that I’m seeing within an inch of his life! And for what?! For your own gain? Because you’re jealous? Because you think you own me? How fucking sick and twisted is that of you to do?!” she continued on with her tirade, getting all of the pent up anger off of her chest.

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed as he took in her heated words. “I love you, (Y/N),” was the first thing he said, and it just about made her jaw drop. She let him continue though, “I love you and I told you that I couldn’t go on without you. This man, he...he fucking took you from me and I couldn’t stand that. I wanted to kill him, I fucking did, but I thought of you and I couldn’t do it.”

“Oh how very sweet of you to think of me before killing him,” (Y/N) shot back, her words dripping with sarcasm. “Are you in your right mind, Arthur?! This innocent man’s life has been changed forever because you couldn’t control yourself, and you think that I’m going to be happy that you spared him because you were afraid of how I was going to perceive you?” she looked at him with wide eyes, a look of disgust on her face, “Arthur, I never want to ever see you again, for the rest of my life.”

“I can’t go on without you, (Y/N),” he said, his voice broken and bare now. All of the hope that he’d gained from his meeting with Louis till now had been stripped away and broken into a million pieces.

“You’re gonna have to, because I can’t bear to even be in the same room as you now,” she told him, her voice cold as she sent him one last deadly look before she turned and left the house.

Arthur stood in the doorway and watched her walk down the street, completely in shock from what had just happened.

Oh, so what is left but a broken man? ‘Cause nothing hurts like a woman can,

He recognized that he’d fucked up. What he originally thought would bring (Y/N) back to him made her want nothing to do with him. Now he felt even more terrible than he did when she told him that she wanted to break things off. Because now she looked extremely hurt...even more hurt than before. And the last thing that he wanted was to see (Y/N) hurting; or to be the person that had caused the hurting. But that was exactly what he had done. There was nothing that could be done now to fix it. He’d have to live his life without her.

I can’t go on without you, can’t go on without you, I can’t go on without you, oh, without you Lord, without you, without you, babe, without you, oh no...

———

Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @magicalxdaydream @the-anxious-youth @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @peakyswritings @onlydeadcells @just-a-blackhole

MASTERLIST

Listen to the the song here:

[lovelywingsart]

//AU// Danger On High

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

And... Here we go! The start of a small 'series' of stories that take place during the night of February 8th, 2021-

This are the events of Resident Evil Village as told by the perspective of the factory residents, taking place shortly after Winters entered the factory itself. (Mostly because I genuinely do not have the energy or motivation to write out the rest of the fuckin game beforehand SLJSADKSFD- MAYBE One time I'll at least write out the conversations he has with the other Lords or just rewrite damn near the entire beginning and all, but now is not that time)

(It is a small story, and it's not the greatest since I didn't have clear image for this one, but it is a story nonetheless...! I'm also not sure exactly how many stories this will consist of, and I DO plan on making a full sketch comic for the big fight, but we'll see!)

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! <3**

-----

*Warnings?: Child/Family endangerment, really REALLY bad decision making beforehand

Summary: The day they thought would come has finally arrived, but not without severe difficulty... And it's all partly the fault of a desperate father- and not the one you expect.

Monitors illuminated the room as Heisenberg paced, swearing to himself as he glanced at them every now and then. Things were being destroyed left and right... Most things were running, but others were collapsing at the man made his way through.

How? How could he have fucked this up so badly?? No... No, it couldn't have been his fault entirely... Right??? No, the man was stubborn and he lost his temper because of it. He wasn't listening. That's all it was... But they still had a chance, right? Winters let the other Lords live despite everything, he'd let them live too, right??? Granted, they were beaten bloody beforehand... He wasn't entirely opposed to fighting, but he would if he had to-

He was ripped away from his pacing thoughts with a jump as the door suddenly flew open, only to fully freeze as Emelia raced to the monitors path in a panicked scramble. She rapidly switched the images on the screen with the dial after nearly tripping over the chair in front of the table, yanking it to the side out of the way with her eye searching the fuzzed pixels frantically.

"Emelia, what the hell are you-"

"Where the bloody FUCK is he?!" she said, her voice warping near immediately with as loud as she was. He couldn't help but jump at the tone, though immediately joined her at the monitor.

"What the fuck do you mean 'where is he'?? He went down-"

"Not him, you Twit!!" She snarled, "OUR SON!!!!"

He took a step back with wide eyes as she suddenly turned to him, her teeth bared and already forming into the longer fangs. But despite her obvious anger, his heart sank as he saw something else. Something very clear to him that instantly made him panic as well once it settled fully in his mind-

Fear.

No... No. Oh no. Oh NO. He hadn't thought of that... He hadn't thought of ANY of that- Why didn't he-

Fuck-

She gave a startled snarl as he suddenly nearly shoved her to side, his chest tightening as he flipped through the images as well.

There were a few moments of somewhat tense silence before Emelia suddenly pointed to the screen.

"THERE!!" she said quickly, and Heisenberg froze with his hand over the dial. There, through the static, they saw a small form curled in a somewhat dark corner.

From the size and movement, it was most definitely their son...

And he seemed scared.

The boys hands covered his ears as he visibly trembled with the noises around him, and Emelia let out a quiet whimper.

"Adalwulf-" she started, only for both to freeze as there was a few loud *POP*s from the monitors speakers before a tiny, distant explosion. A Soldat, no doubt. It nearly sounded like cracks through the sound, and they watched as he visibly jumped and looked around the corner with wide, teary eyes- only to instantly stand and bolt the other way. The movement caused an odd static through the monitor, mildly distorting both the audio and the visual.

Neither parent even breathed, watching as another figure followed, though visibly and audibly confused as he seemed to try and talk through breathless gasps in the now muffled audio- all while still holding his gun.

Winters was going for their son.

Heisenberg looked over, his own horrified feeling being reflected on Emelias face as he saw her muscles begin to tremble. It was less than a second before she turned heel and nearly sprinted to the door, tripping over her feet.

"EMMY-" he started, moving forward until she stopped and nearly glared at him. It wasn't anger... Not entirely, at least. There was definitely quite a bit of anger in her stare that he knew was directed at him, but that wasn't the primary emotion he saw. Instead it was something else;

Fear.

She was afraid.

Her terror of the situation at hand was clear from the look in her eye, the bright gold nearly glowing from the dim light of the monitor. It made his breath catch in his throat with a wave of guilt, and he couldn't help but freeze in place.

"Get him." She demanded flatly, her voice wavering with the mixture of the Cadou and attempts to not hyperventilate. "Get Adalwulf. I'll take care of Winters."

"I-"

"PLEASE, Karl...!!!" she pleaded finally, hitting her fist on the door in scared and desperate frustration as he finally walked to her. "Please..."

He was silent for a few moments before suddenly grabbing her shoulder and pulling her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a near bone crushing hug. Her body went rigid, though she couldn't help but return it with yet another whimper. She gripped the back of his jacket tightly and she shoved her face into his neck with trembling breaths and shoulders as he did the same.

"Promise me you'll be careful." he nearly whispered, his own voice strained. "... Please..."

She didn't move for a few moments, though only nodded as he managed to pull away. But he didn't shift much, only moving enough to press his forehead to hers as he reached up to hold her jaw. She took a shaky breath in desperate attempts not to sob.

"I have to be..." she replied, finally allowing the stinging in her eye to form into tears. He nodded in reply, quickly leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek before moving to lead her out as he felt her arm tremble to finally shift. He took a tense breath, lifting his chin in a small false confidence he knew full well she didn't believe.

"Let's go."

[paperboy-pb]

Now that the prologue is done, I can't thank the fans of this series enough.

No, we haven't hit any particular follower milestone. The story has just begun. And most of you haven't given me any sort of financial support to help me out, either. (And that's alright! I haven't asked, lol.)

I'm thanking you for just being apart of the audience.

I started PB in a little blue notebook during the summer of 2015. It was originally meant for my eyes only. And a big part of the reason why was that, when I googled things like "Special Ed makes me feel bad," there wouldn't be much of anything coming up. There were Quora forums! A couple of YouTube videos. Articles here and there.

But it wasn't a lot. Not enough to help me out for long. And it only hammered the idea further into my head that I was alone in what I endured. As I got older, grew up, and away from the program and people who took my disabled youth, I constantly felt this urge to talk about it. What SpEd had put me through. What I'd lost. What I'd seen & heard. The things I did and didn't learn. Even though I was never a very open kid, let alone teenager.

I hated that no one was talking about it. And how nobody knew what happened to kids like me behind closed doors. At 13 and 14, almost none of the new friends I made had ever heard a life story like mine. And I've always found that wild: I had a LOT of friends! (Still do!)

So I kept drawing it out. Kept working on the story in notebooks, sketchbooks, my friends' DMs, and anywhere else words could go. Sometimes, my family would catch glimpses of the concept art. Sad sketches of Matthew crying, freaky drafts of Monster, or tense moments between what would become Class 7-C.

And one of my parents would be like, "Why is your art so depressing?" They'd roll their eyes. And they'd add on, "People's parents aren't gonna like it!"

No, I never told them what the story was about. I never even told them it was a children's media (because it kinda isn't! I'd personally put PB as 13+?) These were judgments made with just one glance at computer papers covered in pencil strokes; sketchy and shapey little kids who didn't look like they were having fun.

I knew they were wrong. But the audacity still pissed me off. There aren't many times where it's appropriate to boss somebody else around in how to tell their story, you know? Not only that, but I also worried about not having an audience back then. Sure, all my friends loved my work. But at the time, I was the only one who'd really experienced anything "Special Education" in life. Thus, these were General Ed kids watching it unfold. Able-bodied eyes and (as far as I knew back then) neurotypical minds, watching and learning from whatever I made.

And I liked that. But that wasn't the only group I wanted to be seen by. I wanted disabled people, especially youth in their teens and twenties, to see it. That's my primary audience. And shit like that made me wonder if I'd ever find it. Had me second-guessing myself a little, you know?

But I shook it off. It's like that thing teachers always say in class. "If you're confused or have a question, ask: whatever it is, you probably aren't the only one thinking it!"

And I searched for stuff like PAPERBOY, hadn't I? Yeah. I had. So by that logic, other people definitely would be, too.

So I stuck to my guns, and... check it! Y'all showed up!

One thing I've noticed ever since publishing part 1 is that the PB Nation is pretty damn devoted. You guys have been patient, passionate, silly, and unapologetically yourselves since the get-go. And the response to every old promotional comic or post I've made has been OVERWHELMINGLY positive and curious. I've gotten fucking fanart, man! More than once! I've had the honor of meeting a few of you in person already! And for the ones who haven't caught me out with my friends in New York, believe me, I REMEMBER who comments what.

By the way, you guys should spam my comments more. Fuckin' love that shit. SPEAK TO ME, lmao. Even if it's like, the most irrelevant PB question ever. Keyboard smash in my comment sections. Send me disability reels you like. Tell me what you wanna see from the story. Whatever, as long as it doesn't bleed into parasocial territory!

I've gotta have one of the best audiences out there. So thank you! For just... being around. Here's to hoping y'all enjoy the journey we're aboutta go on.

[not-so-mundane-after-all]

"About the Blogger" Meme

@ambeauty thanks for tagging me, love 💕

Star Sign(s): All I know is that it's Pisces. What does that mean really? No clue, never checked.

Favorite holidays: Halloween, even though it's not that wildly celebrated where I’m from, barely at all. But I love watching the craze about it online and participate in online celebrations. Other than that, Christmas, because of food and family.

Last meal: one of my favorite traditional Polish dishes - bigos

Current Favorite Musician: Does Rachel Zegler count? Because I am obsessed with The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes Soundtrack

Last Music Listened To: Marjorie by Taylor Swift and some other Evermore tracks for Evermore’s and Taylor's birthday (Dec 11th and 13th)

Last Movie Watched: in theaters - Renaissance: a film by Beyonce! Blew my mind! And at home it was my beloved Prospect - a watch party + live reaction (screaming about Cee and Ezra) with my friends the Bees on Discord. As Ezra would say, “This is so exciting!”

Last TV Show Watched: I am making my way through a Supernatural rewatch, finished 7x05 last night. I’m excited to finally be on S7 because S7 introduces my favorite female character ever, Charlie Bradbury!

Last Book/Fic Finished: Book - The Rule of Wolves by Leigh Bardugo (right before S&B was c*nceled, not fuckin fair), and Fic - “The Stag” by AFireInTheAttic about Katniss and Haymitch going hunting because I am in my Hunger Games Renaissance era and PapaHaymitch feels are roaming free

Last Book/Fic abandoned: I bought the entire The Witcher series just to struggle through the first book 🫣 the story is good but the way it's written, my god. Why do our Polish writers have to make everything so difficult? All the fat jokes and sexist jokes and misogyny, you can tell these books were written by an old grumpy douchebag. As for fics, I had to drop out of some Katniss and Haymitch fics because they had shippy undertones and weren't tagged right (please people tag your fics appropriately when it comes to relationships, I am begging on my knees)

Currently reading: Book - Percy Jackson and The Chalice of The Gods by Rick Riordan, Fic - “After All We've Been Through” by TheFelineQueen96 aka my darling @ellies-little-gun, an incredible Joel and Ellie story

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: spinal taps and bone marrow biopsy for my Titanstober fic I am flesh, bones... I am skin, soul… I needed to learn about this to figure out the balance between medical accuracy and using these procedures in unethical ways/as forms of torture, as I’ve seen done on some TV shows in the past, like The 100. I even rewatched those scenes for inspiration

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: as my bestie mentioned before me, definitely the day we all lost it over Brenton's birthday post dedicated to Anna. I had my phone in my hand when that notification appeared and I nearly dropped it, that's how bad I was shaking.

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: probably The Magicians for me. I wasn't active in that fandom, only a little towards the end of the show, but I loved it so much and it has two very strong platonic pairs that I was absolutely obsessed with, Quentin & Julia and Margo & Eliot, and I kind of wish I could write for them. Maybe after a rewatch though 👀

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: Let me use this part for advertising and say PROSPECT!!! WE ARE SMALL BUT MIGHTY, ALL 5 OF US! Jk there's a bit more of us, but not by much and the movie is incredible. So go watch Prospect everyone!!! Come lose your mind with us over Cee and Ezra!!!

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For: My brain is flooded at the moment with Katniss and Haymitch, I already cave in and wrote one fic even though I am officially on a break till January. I want to write more for them and definitely will, but I need to go back to my two ongoing Titans projects. Only my love for writing Titans is currently the size of a dying candle flame and I am trying to stoke that fire up (rereading my own fic to get back to the story) and failing (it's not working, I got nothing)

No pressure tags for the besties @undertheknightwing @legendsofentity @skoulsons @ellies-little-gun @sotvtaughtmehowtofeel @dilf-din

[chungledown-bimothy]

LoL Worlds 2023 Finals Reaction Post

instead of a million text posts, i'm gonna just make this one extremely long one.

oh my god t1's first draft. they are not here to fuck around. but also if they don't get a solid early game advantage then uh. fear.

if that was damn near any midlaner other than xiaohu, that would have been first blood for sure. but SO well counterplayed by weibo wow

if i have to watch t1 lose worlds finals to jayce again i'm going to delete that goddamn champion from the entire game.

weiwei is doing WORK keeping weibo in this.

t1's neutral objective control my god

eyyyy atlus ty for the cloud soul

weiwei didn't die???? just maokai things jfc

what does this literally perfect neutral objective control mean if you can't fuckin win a skirmish though

XIAOHU DIDN'T DIE????

yeah okay lost the dragon and the stacking delay isn't great but the won fight is big. both gold wise and mentally

bengi isn't here D:

keria. the love of my life. guma looked dead to rights, but keria simply will not allow that.

i was so afraid zeus wouldn't be able to stand up to theshy. that really was my biggest fear for this series, and it is so reassuring that he absolutely is

god it's only 28 minutes into game 1 and i'm already struggling to stay awake

zeus fucking melted that dragon holy shit

hell yeah boys, 2 more games of that <3 <3 <3

DRAVEN!

yeah okay there's the yone ban lol

nocturne? oooh oner is feeling himself today

this is such a fun draft omg. still very scared about top lane, but the big picture t1's put together is fantastic. looove watching t1 play that clean, clean macro.

hmm don't love that start for the bot lane. not idea.

holy shit theshy (impressed) holy shit theshy (my dude you're throwing)

THE EXECUTE zeus is the only god i worship actually

wow i've got way fewer thoughts this game. the time is catching up to me and i'm too eepy for that much thought lol

lmao guma just looked at crisp and he exploded. and oner's ults have been so, so good this whole game

i know it's hope that kills you. and it's been very, very rough to watch t1's finals appearances these last few years, so i've not really let myself hope. but i can't help it at this point

zeus series mvp, but oner deserves it too

MATCH POINT LET'S FUCKING GOOOO

i really hope they stay together if they win. i don't want to have to divide my loyalties.

...oh god what if they win and then faker retires.

BENGI'S NOT THERE OH NO i'd forgored D:

xayah rakan ^_^ ^_^ ^_^

brad is fun but like. weird choice so early on imo

akali! lee sin! you fucking love to see it

lmao imagine picking kennen into zeus. the aatrox is a ballsy choice, but he's absolutely earned that at this point

oner and zeus own this series.

awww man that grand entrance was so good it's tragic it wasn't quite enough

i have so many more thoughts about this game than i have the energy to make coherent let alone type oop

damn that herald just isn't gonna die good for them

FAKER TRIPLE KILL and he's so focused it doesn't even register on his face

and he just. keeps. going. then zeus cleans up with the double kill.

fuck i have to pee so bad but i can't miss a second of this live

that should have been a pick onto keria. but no, 2 kills for t1. jfc

this is it. they've done it. oh my fucking god.

we've hit hitting them with their wallets territory. idk maybe there's some miracle somewhere but not really. not with t1 playing like this. not with their lead.

HOW DID ZEUS NOT DIE

oh my god they did it they're so cute i cannot see what i'm typing through the tears

the first professional league i ever watched was the last time t1 won worlds.

AND THEY'RE IN KOREA FUCKING HELL

holy shit they did it. fuck i'm so fucking proud of them

faker was so casual about the win, too. that boy i swear to god i have never wanted to suck a dick so bad in my life

[moonglittering]

Having an excuse to flee the house and their paternal grandparents during the family Christmas, even if just for a little while, was a blessing for both Summer and Morty. Even Rick agreed and he grumbled less than the usual when they asked him to portal to the Moon Kingdom.

And there they were, standing in one of the elegant halls, each of them bearing a present for Virote.

Rick was the first to step up, dumping a pyramidal bottle in Vi's hands. There wasn't even a ribbon on it, but the bottle itself was pretty elegant, made of some kind of transparent violet crystal and decorated with a flower pattern in relief.

"I-It's ale from another dimension," he offered in lieu of an explanation. "I-It's like liquid weed, b-but it tastes like the fancy wine you like. T-The cool thing is that y-you need to drink really little to get high an-and it doesn't get you hangover. Y-You're fuckin' welcome."

"G-Geez, Rick," Morty muttered, coming to stand next to the man. "C-Could you be less grumpy?"

The answer was a "nope" with a loud emphasis on the 'p' and then Rick walked away before the teen could say anything else.

"Uh, I-I sort of made this myself," the boy said, returning his attention on Vi. "W-Well, Rick's AI helped, b-but the idea was mine an-and I designed it and all. I-I hope you'll like it!"

Inside the box he handed over was a snowglobe, the base decorated with little moons, each at a different phase. The scene represented inside was the capital of the kingdom. The composition was a little sloppy, betraying that the thing was homemade, but a lot of effort has been put into it.

Summer approached as last, merely handing Virote a small red envelop with a wink. Inside there was a blank business card, with a phone number written on it and a small message. "This is Grandpa's interdimensional number. Use it wisely...or not ;P"

[[ Rick, Morty & Summer for Vi || presents time! ]]

✨ @countlessrealities well what’s this then!

Virote wasn't in the halls of main part of the palace like usual. He was in the halls of the tallest building closest to the city. The row of short commercial buildings extending north and south created a series of uneven shadows, with neon lights and streetlights shining here and there in the darkness. A hot pot restaurant's big lit-up sign blinked on its roof, flashing blue and red and orange. Power lines lay like a blanket over the houses. The stars seemed closer than usual. It all made for good spectating, he never got bored of the view. He was pretty sure he'd be alone for the evening until Ratana brought Rick, Morty, and Summer to him.

❝Oh, hey—!❞ He peeled himself from looking through the window and stood from the chair he had been in for the past two hours, making a beeline to them. And, much to his shock, they had presents. Rick knew him well. Something that could get him shitfaced without guzzling a ton of it? Godsend, that'd provide him with a lot of fun nights alone in his art space with nothing but his paints, canvas, and weird ideas. Bonus points for the bottle itself being ornate. However, Rick was already walking away before Virote could utter a thank you.

Morty's gift came next and it was beautiful to gaze at. And, it was clearly heartfelt. Virote moved it around in his hands and watched the flakes and glitter move around. Looked just like the city of Saengduean. ❝Morty, this is so pretty! You have a very, very beautiful mind if it conjured this, don't you think? I'm gonna place this on my vanity, so I can look at it a lot. Thank you. You’re incredibly creative, Morty.❞ Placing his first two gifts aside, Virote drew Morty in to his arms for a hug, swaying him just a tiny bit before letting go. ❝I'll take good care of it, I promise.❞

When Summer handed him the envelope, he met her expression with a curious look. There didn’t seem to be an actual holiday card in it; instead, there was a single, very plain card with a little note and the phone number. ❝Summer,❞ he slowly began, giving her a hug, ❝I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but you're wild for this one. Thank you.❞ He said it low enough only for her to hear it. 

The card went directly into his pocket, he’d be sure to use it later.

Though, the thought of it made him... Nervous. Horribly nervous.

After all, it was just Rick. Rick was just some guy. Right?

Right?

[infoglitch]

My complicated relationship with Rwby.

Apologies Everyone no this is not the surprise I promise that's still in the works. Right now I just want to talk about something.

As all (except one and a half) of my followers know me for, it is the fact that I write Rwby fanfiction (very bad ones) and since I have somewhat of a miniscule foot step in my part of the fandom I just want to post this.

So to even begin my history with Rwby we need to start with something that had nothing to do with it at the start.

Death battle.

Yes. THAT death battle. The very same. And I'm pretty sure you all know where I'm going with this.

I got introduced to this series via death battle when they released Yang Xiao long versus Tifa Lockhart.

That's where I was first unknowingly introduced to Rwby. And oh boy did I forget about that series in a matter of moments. After watching that fight the only thing I was focusing on was how cool yang looked as she fucking washed tifa.

Was it rigged? Yes. Fuck yes! But I still loved the fight.

And then I watched Weiss versus Mitsuru. And yeah I also forgot about rwby after that.. for a bit. Eventually I discovered the series again on YouTube and began watching from episode 1.

Immediately the introduction caught me off guard. The story book-esc intro caught my attention and I found it... Decent. I was hoping the series would stick to this story book kinda feel but also mix in some bits and pieces of 3d.

And now to address the elephant in the room. Yes, by the time I began watching rwby there was already heavy criticism. I did watch some videos but not all of them. I didn't want my view to have a bias.

And I'll be honest, I liked the first three volumes. Including volume 4. (Yes I know the volume was absolute fucking garbage but I still liked that it slowed to have our characters get a focus)

Now i want to address something. At this point in time I was not a huge shipper it just seemed bizarre. But I did, and still do like a lot of ships. But sadly none of them are team rwby ships.

What can I say at that point I wasn't very open minded. I didn't hate the ships I just didn't get it, yet I still enjoyed the volumes despite that and I'll be honest me at that point leaned towards dragonslayer.

Ah yes the rookie Knight meets the mighty blond bombshell. My (still) two favorite characters in a ship I would have liked. Also... Fuck arkos 🖕 (I'm kidding I just didn't care for pyrrha as a character, I just fuckin couldn't. She's not bad just wish she was written better)

But of course this is a complicated relationship for the series. And now we are at my least favorite part. I did not care for volume five and all in all I just stopped caring. I stopped caring about the Rwby series because well one. sadly most of the fandom was either toxic as hell or ship based. 2. A lot of the criticism from the videos I watched made me realize this show was pretty bad. (No matter how much I liked it)

And eventually I put this series to rest. I stopped watching rwby, but it always lived in the back of my head, the vibrancy of the first three volumes, the shock of Pyrrha and Penny's death. The idea of hunting monsters.

That led me to creating beast slayer. In a sense my "first born child" and oh boy was it edgy. It still is but at that point I was in a bad spot. I am still dealing with my own self-esteem and self-hatred. But at that point during the pandemic... I was done. I was done with everything. And so I began making more promotional pictures because I didn't write at that point.

Eventually that led me to meeting my ex who I will always be glad I met (they were quite literally one of the things dragging me away from the depression of the pandemic)

But this is about Rwby. And I'll say it here so you all can quote when I'm old and grey. Rwby will always be an inspiration for my work no matter how crumby, incompetent, and outright cruel, rooster teeth is. No matter how bad the story decisions are (like the non-existent build up to bumblb.). No matter how terrible the fandom is. This series will always be in the back of my mind and telling me "just go for it". As dumb as it sounds (and even out right cheesy it is) its true.

But regardless back onto the timeline of events. At this point in time I had completely forgotten about Rwby, only occasionally hearing about it and then j saw a YouTube short showing... A group of sprites modeled after... Team rwby..

That's right ladies we are talking about my favorite fighting game!

BLAZBLUE: CROSS TAG BATTLE

I had no idea this game existed until eventually I was searching on the Xbox game store and found it and I'll have an entire different thing on how it got me into persona but right now, point is.

I loved this game. Every minute I spent playing it was another minute I would have an idea for a combo or interaction. And well it also got me back into Ruby. Once again I started seeing rwby pop up more and more on YouTube and sadly that was also after rwby got removed from YouTube. (First off fuck you rooster teeth, second off eat my dick, drink my fresh piss, and lick my heavy as fuck balls!)

But eventually after that that was also when I got on Tumblr (and it wasn't even for rwby, not even inscryption when I used to make shit for it. I entered Tumblr, because I was a fan of bugsnax. Strange how one thing leads to another huh?)

And so here I am talking to all of you. You who follow me or you who just so happen to this because I'm tagging this as rwby.

So what do I have to say about the series and what ships do I like even tho I've said it 100 times.

To answer the first one.. I.. I love this series still. It will always live in my mind and I will always remember the potential the series had. And I'm mad about it.

I'm mad this series has basically made me it's bitch and yet I still keep coming back because a strive to enjoy the series. That's one of the reasons why I'm doing the Rwby rewrite or also called "rwby: fate".

I'm mad that no matter how much I love this series it'll never get better because one the company Is horrible and two the writers are incompetent. Yet here I am standing here typing this out for everyone to read and I still want this series to have an ending but also not wanting to fund a horrible pathetic company. I'm at a cross roads because one half is telling me "they'll fail like the last 6 volumes" while the other half is screaming praying that this series gets on ending because it wants to see the thing that inspired have a worthwhile ending.

But that's everything. That's everything when it comes to how I feel about Rwby. In this long ass, stupid ass, mustard stain on your shirt having, ugly bitch making, rant son of a bitch.

Well obviously except one.

Drum roll please.

🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁🥁

Thank you-

🥁🥁🥁

.... You know what fuck you.

Regardless my favorite ship is always gonna be-

Whiteknight. Yeah Im just a sucker for it. That's all.

Now get off my back

[muffindaddystyles]

LOVE ME, WRESTLE ME.

Boyfriendrry blurb of some smutty and fluffy thought.

Taking online classes, resting, doing assignments, then spending some time with Harry and watching a movie at night that always ends up in a good fuck isn't boring but it's insipid.

The cooe of rain outside's soothing and tranquil enough to fill in already comfortable silence between you people, your lips murmuring around the instinctive words from the scrabby page of the Oscar Wilde's; The selfish giant. Your knees are hiked up sitting in the love seat opposite to where Harry's sitting on the messy-ly made bed since you both were feeling a tad lazy and in mood to procrastinate house chores.

You're constantly loosing your focus, because you're terribly horny at the moment and Harry in a baggy yellow pawy sweater spread on his tummy over the bed doing nothing but staring at you like he'd swallow you whole isn't helping at all with the ache between your thighs.

So, you do what was needed to be done.

His eyes follows your commotion as you leave your spot kneeing up on the edge of bed, your crotch against his face and you look down at him with a witty smirk.

"Wrestle me." Your voice challenging. You arch your brow with profound irritation when he intentionally dismisses you off by rumbling his lips to blow away the curls falling over his dooey eyes.

"Pardon?" He creates a noise, within a click of his tongue or his hand against your bare thigh (fondling the soft skin he's obsessed with) that dries your throat with hunger. He heard it right. There was no wavering in what you invited him for.

You guys have this game where he has to make you cum within two minutes and you've to wrestle him off, if you loose and cum you've to keep him warm and sloppy in your mouth until it turns into a nice blowie so it's a win win either way.

You fail every time. Most of it is very obvious.

But, right now he's trying to rile your nerves up by acting like an utterly supine cow.

"Hmm?" The questioning hum turns into a giggly squeal when he grabs your ankle and throws you onto the mattress like a rag doll, "S' fuckin' insatiable all the time ..." He growls towering above you, pushing your thighs apart with a tight grip to your soft fleshy insides that makes you hiss. A laugh pits up in your belly from the thrill of shutting them back and fighting him off to piss him further.

Ofcourse him being stronger than you fails you to do so and a loud moan bubbles around you when he licks his palm till the tips of his fingers and smacks your already soaking centre harshly.

"Fuck." You mewl softly sinking into sheets when he yanks your shorts down leaving you in nothing but his large hoodie, your pussy lips flutter from the heated sensation of your stickiness coming in contact with the sting of his chilly rings.

He pins your wrist atop your head and fits himself between your wide opened legs grinding his hard (trouser clad) prick against your heating centre in vigorous rubs, leaving a burn with every stroke and making you loose your stance with the growing desire to have his fingers inside you.

"C'mon fight me now." He grits. Glowering down at you sternly and your tummy coils against his's pelvis with each nasty roll of his hips, you gasp around a sob when he nips at the soft skin of your jaw. He wants you to surrender yourself to him but your ego's more than that so with a trick of pulling at his hair you flip him on his back and crawl up to straddle his torso jerking his shoulder down.

"Aha!" You grin in a victory. His brows pinches down furiously and before you know his calloused hand came spanking your butt-cheek making your face smash into the crook of his neck with an unexpected vulgar series of moans, "Bratty little fuck doll." He grunts landing another spank right where the first one left crimson imprints, again and again till you're a squirming crying mess.

He slides his two fingers down your puckering rim to where you're dripping with wetness and teases your entrance by never dipping them in till the end but rather stroking the spongy wall of your soppy cunt.

You squeal when he flips you on your tummy and leans all his weight over your back to glide his hand between the compact space of their bottoms, he patches breathy kisses to the side of your neck leaving love marks, sliding in his fingers deep inside that when you feel a certain crack resonating to your ears and shooting pain till your toes making them jelly.

You're fucked.

It all happened from your arm placed at the weird angle while he had your hips in air.

"Harry, I think. I might've broken my wrist." You stammer in a calm voice though, barely able to speak when the pang in your joint's inflaming like a wildfire along with the pleasure that's subsiding into an akward spasmy feeling as you pulsates around his fingers.

"Sucha bullshit excuse to mice outta yer defeat." He rasps to you smugly. Your face scrunches up in pain and your head falls into the throw pillow.

"No . ." You shake your head quickly gulping down the thick tears down your throat and when his head clears out from the fog of lust, noticing the weakness in your words he immediately pulls his digits out, "Holy ... Fuck." You try to stay placid knowing his insides are ticking in panic and is about to explode in one, two and —

"Baby -– how — how are y'so calm? Is it hurting? Show me." The shift in his demeanor is adorable as minutes ago he was about to rail you to unconsciousness and now he's the softest cutest caring boyfriend.

Tears prickles at your waterline when he presses his thumb into your wrist bone ever so diligently and it jolts severe pain up your arm.

"I think it's, 'm so so sorry baby. We should go to hospital. Stay here, yeah?" He tells you cupping your cheeks worriedly and rushes to fetch a wet rag when you nod through a sniff and wobbly lips.

He cleans you off, shushing you with tender kisses to your ankles when the throb got overwhelming. Helps you wearing your jeans and shoes being careful not to hurt your wrist any further in doing so.

"It's okay, you're okay lovie —- if the pain's too much —--- dunno we should probably run to hospital." He's out of breath snatching the keys and his coat taking glances of you after every second to make sure you're okay, more like assuring himself, "Bub it wasn't your fault. It was an accident, I can endure a lil bit pain." Through the whole call ride he was jittery and twitchy waiting for to reach the clinic speedily.

He has you embraced by his side with a careful support of his palm under your wrist so it wouldn't dangle that much as he walks you inside.

The doctor sitting infront of you two stares at the way you both are flushed, rosy cheeks, ruffled hair and sheened skin radiating 'we were in the middle of having great sex.' But, she chooses not to speak as you shrink to Harry's side timidly from the embarrassment and shyness.

Harry just passes you a nervous smile squeezing your shoulder to cheer you up and nudges you when the doctor asks the ever awaiting question.

"So . . . How did it happen?"

"Cupboard —-" You speak.

"She fell of —-" And he speaks at the same time.

You look at eachother with wide shocked eyes but then he clear his throat allowing you to speak, "I was putting some dishes up in the cupboard when I lost my footing and knocked my wrist against it." The doctor surely didn't give into your guys shit. Nodding along to your made up story.

You guys feel exposed when the doctor spoke inspecting Y/N wrist, "The injury caused from the pressure of weight, splinting the bone away and tearing the muscle too ... nothing that wouldn't heal in two weeks. You'll be good with an arm cast and these pain killers."

When you step out into the waiting corridor it feels like your secret has been revealed to every single person sitting there and you pull the strings of your hoodie to cover your face and Harry chuckles kissing your head at your silliness.

Once in the privacy of car he speaks looking at your cast properly, "One thing fo' sure that game isn't made fo' us -- you're too delicate to play it just fo' fun and thrill. Next, time just ask me to fuck you baby and I'll surely do it happily." He sighs a puff of breath kissing your cast and patting it lightly jerking back in horror when you yelp.

"Ouch!" He takes your jaw to kiss your lips upon seeing you grinning at your own misheviousness.

"Ye' batty little creature, stop messin' with your poor boyfriend!" He grumps cheekily at your playfullness.

"'M sorry, daddy will you take care of me?" You blink sickly coy through your lashes. Pouting up at him innocently and he shakes his head bopping your nose.

"You just wait and watch." He kisses the side of your head while reversing the car.

"How about we start from drawing dicks on ye' cast, hmm? How bout that?" He smirks and you gasp surprised at his antics.

"Harry!" The car fills up with laughter and giggles until he takes a rough turn.

"You better drive safe else 'm walking home!"

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

A series of commands accidentally given to Tubbo by their friends in the Devil's Friend AU (long post):

1. "Get me some water, bitch." Tommy to Tubbo, just after Tommy's revival. Tubbo laughed and immediately stood to go get Tommy water.

2. "Wait, don't just leave, what the fuck!" Tommy to Tubbo, immediately after the first command. Tubbo was a bit embarrassed and unsure why he almost just walked away when Tommy can barely stand. He came back, helped Tommy up, and helped him walk home. He then got Tommy a glass of water.

3. "Get some sleep, Tubbo." Ranboo to Tubbo, the first night after Tommy's revival. Tubbo blinked and immediately laid his head down in his arms, falling asleep in the chair besides Tommy's bed. Ranboo was a little surprised, but not distressed. He let Tubbo sleep.

4. "Don't worry about it." Tommy to Tubbo, the next day, after Tubbo asked how Tommy was feeling. Tubbo said okay and didn't worry about Tommy at all for the next hour or so. Tommy accused Tubbo of not being clingy enough anymore. They both laughed it off.

5. "Hand me some more stone?" Ranboo to Tubbo, a few days later, while the two worked on the Bee 'n' Boo hotel.

6. "No, give it to us instead!" Jack Manifold to Tubbo, watching the two of them from the BigInnit Hotel. Tubbo handed stone bricks to Jack, to Ranboo and Jack's bemusement. Jack joked, asking if Tubbo was thinking of switching over and working at the BigInnit Hotel with him. After a few seconds, Tubbo blinked and then laughed self-consciously. He handed more stone to Ranboo. Jack and Ranboo shared a confused look.

7. "Alright, gimme the launch codes, I'm nuking this bitch." Jack Manifold to Tubbo, referencing a skeleton shooting at him. Tubbo immediately gave Jack another key to the nukes. Jack stared at Tubbo, stunned. After a few seconds, Tubbo blinked, then snatched the key back, laughing artificially. He said he was just kidding and then ran away. Jack thought about this for several more minutes.

8. "Come listen to a disc with me." Tommy to Tubbo. They sat on the bench and listened to Cat.

9. "I know I don't deserve it, but... please forgive me." Awesamdude to Tubbo, referencing Tommy's death. Tubbo blinked and said alright. Sam was very surprised. They talked pleasantly for a few minutes. Later on, Tubbo abruptly felt furious at Sam again for failing Tommy. With a shaky hand, he touched the emerald hanging around his neck. He avoided Sam for several days.

10. "If there's something going on, tell us." Ranboo to Tubbo, standing beside Jack Manifold, referencing Tubbo's odd behavior. Tubbo opened his mouth, and in the back of his mind, half-remembered being told not to tell anyone about his deal without Dream's permission. Tubbo blinked, then told Ranboo and Jack that he was just happy to have Tommy back. Ranboo and Jack looked doubtful.

11. "PLEASE COLLECT THREE STACKS OF COAL..." Sam Nook to Tommy and Tubbo. Tubbo almost left for the mine without Tommy. He did not take a break to eat until all three stacks had been gathered, despite Tommy's requests.

12. "Stop being weird, Tubbo." Tommy to Tubbo, after giving three stacks of coal to Sam Nook. Tubbo laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He assured Tommy he would be normal.

13. "Please just go to bed already." Ranboo to Tubbo, while the two of them were up late working on the Bee 'n' Boo. Tubbo immediately dropped his tools, walked home, and fell asleep in his bed without another word. Ranboo became very concerned.

14. "Just forget about it." Tommy to Tubbo, in response to Tubbo trying to ask Tommy about what happened in exile. Tubbo blinked, apparently zoning out for a few seconds. When Tommy got his attention again, Tubbo changed the subject. Two days later, Tubbo remembered that Tommy had been in exile. He stayed in his room for the rest of the day.

15. "Tell me what's been going on with you." Tommy to Tubbo, the day after Tubbo left his room. Tubbo opened his mouth and then remembered Dream telling him something. He blinked and told Tommy that he was just happy to have him back.

16. "Stop lying!" Tommy to Tubbo, the same conversation. Tubbo told Tommy that he wasn't lying.

17. "Then be honest, what is wrong with you?" Tommy to Tubbo, the same conversation. Tubbo blinked and told Tommy he was just happy to have Tommy back. Tommy walked away.

18. "Give it to me." Jack Manifold to Tubbo, referencing the chain around Tubbo's neck. Tubbo went to unclasp it, but the chain wouldn't open. Tubbo pulled on the chain, trying to break it. Jack Manifold grew increasingly concerned.

19. "Tubbo, stop, Jesus!" Jack Manifold to Tubbo, the same conversation. Tubbo stopped yanking the necklace. He also stopped moving. Tubbo did not respond to Jack Manifold or anyone else for several minutes.

20. "Stay here, okay?" Ranboo to Tubbo, in Tommy's house. Ranboo, Jack Manifold, and Tommy discussed Tubbo's behavior outside. Tubbo stayed where he was.

21. "Stand up, Tubbo." Tommy to Tubbo, in Tommy's house. Tubbo stood up.

22. "Now sit down again." Tommy to Tubbo, in Tommy's house. Tubbo sat.

23. "Touch your nose." Jack Manifold to Tubbo, in Tommy's house. Tubbo did so.

24. "Why the fuck are you just doing whatever we say? ... Answer me, honestly, please!" Tommy to Tubbo, in Tommy's house. Tubbo blinked. He vaguely remembered something. After several seconds, Tubbo told them he was just happy to have Tommy back.

25. "Tubbo, please tell me you did not make a deal with fuckin' Dream or anyone else." Tommy to Tubbo, in Tommy's house. Tubbo frowned. Tommy had told him to stop lying. After several minutes of thought, Tubbo interrupted the conversation that had moved on without him and lied, telling Tommy, Jack, and Ranboo that he hadn't made a deal with Dream.

26. "Pass me that book, Tubbo-- oh, shit." Jack Manifold to Tubbo, in a stronghold library. Tubbo abandoned his research, handed Jack the requested book, and then sat still, unblinking, for an hour. Jack looked guilty.

27. "Try now." Ranboo to Tubbo, in a stronghold library, holding a glowing artifact against Tubbo's necklace. Tubbo tried to unclasp the necklace, but his fingers couldn't find a break in the chain. Ranboo looked upset. Tubbo stood, unblinking, for an hour.

28. "Please, please, please, just go back to normal, Tubbo. Tell us what Dream made you do, what-- can we undo it, do I have to die again? Why was this worth it to you, this is so fucking awful, please, Tubbo, tell us what to do, I can't-- I fucking miss you, man." Tommy to Tubbo, in a stronghold library. Tubbo's head swam. He touched the necklace around his throat. Slowly, Tubbo said that he'd give up anything for Tommy. Of course this was worth it. He's just so happy to have Tommy back. Tommy sat miserably with him while Tubbo sat, unmoving, for three hours.

29. "One more try." Ranboo to Tubbo, in a stronghold library, after having tried to disenchant Tubbo's necklace without taking it off his neck. Tubbo tried to unclasp it. His fingers found the clasp and unhooked it. An instant later, it jumped back together and the necklace shone with enchantment again. Regardless, Ranboo and Jack celebrated that at least some progress had been made. Tommy held Tubbo's hand while he sat, unmoving, for four hours.

30. "Hey, Tubbo. Put the book down, listen to me, and follow my lead." Dream to Tubbo, in a stronghold library. Tubbo blinked, his mind going blank. He stood, listened to Dream, and followed his lead.

Hey anon. This hurts me. Thanks, and also ow.

[confirmed-for-trash]

watched Shaun's hairy plotter™ video on youtube last night and holy fucking shit this goes deep. tl;dr what a hateful nasty book series for children to read.

remember how bible thumpers hated these books and forbade their kids to read them? I'm very sad to say that this time they were right...but for the wrong reasons sgshshfkhkgl. cuz these books have neo-liberalism all over them and white xtians LOVE neo-liberalism. personally, I think if my lefty progressive queer ass even touched one of these books at this point, I would spontaneously combust.

I remember trying to read these books back in the early aughts even though I was already like 20. I thought the concept of Wizard School sounded pretty neat and I wanted to know why even grown adults loved these books so much. I got through the first three all right; didn't get the hype but I just thought maybe I was being too cynical. then books 4 and 5 happened.

I skipped book 4 and just watched the movie because holy damn have you seen that book? it's thicker than Lord of the goddamn Rings. would make good kindling for the bonfire BUT ANYWAYS

around 2006, I actually did attempt to read book 5. and that's what finally finally made me put the series away forever. because it's dismal and miserable in every way. every single fucking character including Harry Protagonist is an insufferable, unlikeable little bitch, and Jay Kay killed off the one fucking guy who actually seemed interesting, and in a stupid way to boot. so I said Fuck These Books and moved on with my fucking life...

but other adults in my age group kept insisting that this was some kind of literary masterpiece. getting tats of the fuckin triangle symbol and car stickers that say 'baby muggle on board' and other silly shit. I don't begrudge folks having their silly shit; I have my own silly things, we all do. but for the love of god I still can't understand why they picked THIS.

it's not just the hatred and pettiness and capitalism that seeps out of every page. though that is... definitely telling and off-putting, to say the least. it's the simple fact that there's very little to latch onto here in terms of character and plot. and where the hell is the sense of whimsy and magic and wonder? where are the clever solutions to sticky magical situations? where's the humor and fun? cuz it certainly isn't in this book series. I don't get what people saw in it other than their own nasty hateful reflections.

it's wild to me that the fantasy genre tends to be like this. fantasy isn't about wonder and whimsy and fun. so much of it is thinly veiled allegory for The Real World™ in which the author is free to say all kinds of racist shit but it's okay because it's not really real. sigh.

and that's just disappointing as hell. do yourself a favor and read Discworld instead. Mr. Pratchett knew what was up and he wasn't afraid to say it. also his books are actually hilarious and clever.

[highlifeboat]

I can imagine, that right after ship's crash, Mia wasn't yet compleatly desperate, so when Zoe started panicking, because of they situation, the whole SIT scene happened. Mia calmed her down and promised, that they gonna get out of this mess.

Tho by the end of the story, roles were reversed

Zoe paced the length of the trailer, Mia watching her closely. She’d tried her best to explain the situation to the poor girl. What Eveline was, what she was doing, why they couldn’t just run in there and kill the girl, even if they wanted to. It wasn’t doing much to calm the other woman’s nerves, and Mia couldn’t really blame her. She couldn’t imagine the feeling that came with taking in a little girl, only for her to seemingly tear apart your family.

A twinge of guilt hit her, but she kept a stoic face as Zoe paused in her stride.

“Th-This is fucked.” She stuttered, her breathing picking up. “This is so FUCKED!”

Mia pursed her lips. “Maybe you should take a moment-”

“Shut the hell up! This is your fuckin’ fault!” The younger woman yelled. Mia chose not to respond to that. “What the hell were you thinkin’?! Who the fuck makes a weapon like this?!” Zoe ran her hands through her hair.

“Just have a seat and we can-”

“Fuck you!”

Mia grabbed the woman by her shoulders, and pushed her into the dinette booth. “I said sit.” She hissed, keeping a hold on Zoe’s shoulders. There was a moment of awkward silence, and Zoe buried her face in her hands.

“This is fucked….” She repeated, and Mia sighed.

“I know….” She wasn’t entirely sure what to do. So she just kept talking. “But it’ll be okay. I promise. Help will come.. Eventually. Even if it doesn’t, Evie’s not going to live very long out here.” Zoe let out a series of sniffles as Mia knelt in front of her. “I promise, we’ll get out of this. You will get out of this. Okay? I’ll make sure of it. They aren’t going to hurt you more than they already have.” A slight smile crossed her face. “Not that a girl like you needs protecting.”

Zoe wiped her eyes with the heel of her palm, giving a soft laugh. “Well you’re right about that at least….” She gave another deep sniffle. “But what about…” Zoe looked to the trailer door. “Them?”

“As long as Eveline wants your family alive, they should be safe.”

“And after?”

Mia pursed her lips. “With any luck they’ll just… go back to normal after Evie lets them go.”

Zoe let out a sigh, then wrapped her arms around Mia in a hug. “Even if that’s all bullshit…. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Mia returned the hug. “Just remember you’re not alone in this.”

“Neither are you.”

[dannyphantom-rewrite]

Character ref for; Jack, Maddie and Jazz,

Art by @gally-hin / @gally-hin-phantom

Okay so first off; in terms of Actual redesign, I didn't change a whole lot. I'm actually very fond of Jack and Maddie's design's, my only real issue was with their proportions. Like...look as a lady person who is also thiCC I do not have a fucking wasp thin waist and I'm sure I'm not the only one, lmao. As for Jack? Godamnit he looked like a brick on toothpicks. Just Let him be a fucking Bara man! Anyway of course I asked Gally to do this one bc they're fucking great at drawing different body types

I also cannot and will not take credit for Jazz's outfit. I didn't have any issue with her canon clothes aside from them being a bit plain, so what she's wearing here was literally pulled straight off of her original concept art, which I will link here.

Anyway, getting to the Actual character lore now, let's start with

Maddie Fenton

-Full name is Madeline (I haven't decided on a maiden name yet)

-Born and raised on a farm in Arkansas, had a southern accent that she trained herself out of in college bc it was just one more reason for people not to take her seriously. Still sometimes uses "y'all" completely unironically bc old habits die hard.

-She has a really big family, and they're proud of her accomplishments but feel like she's wasting her talent studying ghosts, because really, up until the Fenton portal was up and running there wasn't even any solid proof they existed. Her sister Alicia is the one outlier there, and even if she doesn't understand, it she completely supports her.

-She majored in engineering and minored in psychology at Wisconsin EDU. Her, Jack and Vlad were all in the same engineering class, and that's where they met.

-Maddie is particularly interested in how ghosts think, analysing their behavior, their motives. Not only that, but they aren't just dead people with unfinished business, they've built an entire culture in the Ghost Zone that is completely seperate from humanity, and she wants to understand all of it.

-skilled marksman and 9th degree black belt, (which is. The highest fucking level there is holy shit? I looked it up after I saw it on her wiki page.)

Jack Fenton

-He's from Minnesota (Amity park is in Illinois and him and Maddie didn't move there until after they got married) 

-okay, "but why minnesota specifically" you ask? Because. I crave. Foot ball discourse. 

-minnesota vikings vs green bay packers guys do you UNDERSTAND WHERE IM GOING WITH THIS 

-The funny thing is that Jack only watches football casually while Vlad is a fucking die hard so when these two got together to see a game it was like....

-Jack: Here to chill and have a good time.

-Vlad: Primed and ready to start a fist fight at any given moment.

-I am never not going to be salty about how Canon Jack was portrayed like a complete moron 99% percent of the time. Like no...theres a difference between Actual Stupid and ADHD induced dumbass-ery.

-Am I saying Jack Fenton has ADHD? Yes. why? Because I also have ADHD and I have always vibed So Hard with his Character.

-Jack is loud and easily excited about things that interest him. He's impulsive and fidgety and yeah, a bit absent minded. He has a mouth that clearly runs so much faster than his head. His train of thought doesn't get derailed so much as it stops and takes several different detours on the way to it's final destination.

-and that's only the tip of the iceberg, really, I'd need an entire essay to get into this completely, but I just really relate.

-Jacks skill-set / interests regarding ghosts vary a bit from Maddie's, most notably in the sense that he doesn't believe that they're static entities already set in their ways, completely incapable of change.

-Jack majored in engineering and minored in Biology at Wisconsin EDU.

-Jack's work with tech is a bit hit or miss. He definitely HAS the engineering skills, but the intrest isn't always there and he's constantly jumping back and forth between different projects. He tends to focus on the concept work and schematics and leave most of the assembly to Maddie as a result. It's an arrangement that works well for them, and has drastically decreased the number of unintentional explosions in the lab.

-A lot of Jack's work tends to revolve around ghostly biology and Ectoplasm, figuring out how ghosts are made, what makes them tick, what the hell Ectoplasm Actually Is, how it's used as an energy source, ect.

-and yes, that does also mean he handles the dissections.

-See that facial scar? Yeah, that's not actually there at the start of the series rewrite but it's very important for plot reasons so I had to include it. Can't say much more on the subject because SPOILERs owo.

Jasmine Fenton

-Jazz is a 18 years old, and a senior at Casper high.

-Which means she prepping to go away to college and won't be around to keep an eye on Danny.

-Obviously that doesn't mean I'm just writing her out of the story, oh no. Know why? Because she's also gonna go to Wisconsin EDU. ya know who else is in Wisconsin? Fuckin' Vlad.

-Jazz is autistic, Although she passes for neurotypical in part due to symptoms being completely over looked in girls due to gender stereotyping and also the fact that she doesn't have any special interests that are considered " "too weird.""

- Her hyperfixation with psychology started at a young age in an effort to better understand people, and social/emotional cues and all that.

-Jazz is well liked at school but she's not popular or apart of any specific group or clique. She's very kind and compassionate to people, and just about everyone knows her, but you'd be hard pressed to find someone who actually Considered her a friend. Except maybe Spike.

-I'm gonna have to give spike his own Character ref at some point, but he's this scary looking goth kid that's been held back twice. He's actually super sweet, just really fuckin' quiet and anxious. Him and jazz kinda ended up gravitating towards each other. She might do most of the talking, but they look out for each other.

-its not like jazz doesn't try to socialize, but it's difficult and she's found it much easier and less stressful to just. Keep to herself and let her interactions with her peers stay shallow and superficial. Sure, it's lonely sometimes but it's better than constantly worrying about saying the wrong thing or making some other misstep.

-One of Jazz's other special interests is football, and it's not so much the players or the game as it is the strategy of it? Started out as one of those things you do to bond with your dad, and she ended up getting really into it.

-She absolutley winds up getting into stupidly intense discussions with Vlad about it, too, lmao.

-Her and Danny probably bonded over SBNation bc that shit has both sentient satellites and ridiculously complex football mechanics.

-She's completely oblivious to the fact, but Dash has a massive crush on her bc holy shit this girl understands football (hey bud your toxic masculinity is showing put that shit away)

-I mentioned that Danny was in Cheer for a bit in middle school so it makes sense that she'd also be pushed into doing some kind of extracurricular activity.....so.....she was in a martial arts class for a bit thanks to Maddie and has a good grasp on self defense.

I think that's everything? I feel like I'm leaving things out tho? Idk if I did I'll come back and add on to this later and also pls don't hesitate to ask questions bc it really helps me flesh things out better.