#it is actually normal for me now and it confuses the fuck outta people

[stocious]

bisexual carl thoughts

so listen, we got robbed of some bisexual content in the show with fiona’s exit so me and nosho ( @creepkinginc ) got talking and you know what? bisexual carl. we’re here for it. so we made him a boyfriend. meet ben.

carl brings his first ever actual boyfriend to sunday family dinner and at first the gallaghers are kinda confused because ben looks like a nobody. he has a boring name and a boring look, very average, nothing special about him. carl has had a slew of very interesting women and he’s with this guy? makes zero sense.

until ben opens his mouth. it makes sense then.

they learn he’s a baker and works at a bakery close to the police station and that’s how they met (”cops and dounts, huh?”) but ben had to give his number THREE times before carl got the hint. because why would a guy flirt with him? it took him a minute alright.

but ben also tells them he’s been a park ranger in new mexico where he’s from, a construction worker, for a while he worked with removing snakes and shit from peoples houses, you know, normal ben stuff.

at which the gallaghers tell him the story about carl killing the bald eagle hoping to get a laugh outta the guy

but he looks dissapointed and says he wishes he was there so he could show them how to prepare it properly. which then send him into a story about that time he killed and ate a poisionous snake.

the gallaghers just stare but carl nods and looks like its the most normal thing ever. ben informs them that they have to remember to bury the head should they ever have to do that because you can still step on it and get poisoned.

he then goes on to tell them about other wild animals you can eat. seagulls, snails, bugs, possums. and how to best prepare them.

alright so ian spots his tattoo and asks about it. its a ruler on his forearm and ben just shrugs and tells them he uses it to measure fish he catches sometimes. you never know when you have to measure something. its handy at ikea and when you gotta make sure a hole is deep enough. a hole for what? oh you never know when you need a hole with just the right size.

they keep talking and frank/monica/parents comes up and ben tells them about his survivalist father who dropped him in the woods one time with a swiss army knife and a lighter and he had to find his way back home. by himself. at 12.

(thats also the time he ate the snake. ya boy had to eat)

there’s just this distinct feeling ben could build you a house and do your taxes, but he’s also the typa guy who could tell you the best way to make a body dissapear and how to make a deadly weapon out of a paperclip and a stick. mcgyver style.

eventually it turns into this thing where everybody just waits for him to piggyback of whatever story they tell with a ”that reminds me of that one time…” and they all just KNOW its gonna be something outta the left field. just ben stories.

ian voices his concern about ben being a red flag to mickey but mickey’s like ”firecrotch, you married ME. if we turned out fine im sure ben and carl will be fine too. he’s weird as fuck but i kinda like the dude. good for carl the little pyschopath”

eventually they wanna add him to the gallagher group chat but he doesnt use facebook. or any social media sites. but he does have 17 different apps for hiking trails and apps for identifying plants you can eat or not eat and a compass app and— all the apps but not facebook. sorry.

so yeah, ben looks like he wouldnt make sense with carl but they get it now. he makes total sense with carl.

(i wrote this on my phone and didnt spellcheck so take it for what it is)

[lastoneout]

Not to think to hard about it but those masking questions really do confuse the fuck outta me lmao, like I have spent most of my life feeling like every single social interaction I have is an elaborate high stakes board game where I don't actually know the name of the game or the rules, so ofc course I am more comfortable hanging out with groups of people I know because I can watch how they're acting and kinda reverse-engineer what's expected of me, but whenever I've sat down and thought about it I've been like, but that's normal right?

Bcs a lot of growing up, especially in a person's earliest years, involves copying the people around them! Babies don't just magically know how to speak and socialize, they watch their parents and family and friends and copy them until they have it down, and as you grow up people continue find themselves in new social situations all the time and the most logical way to figure out how to behave in them is to watch the people around them and do what they do, right???

I guess I just assumed everyone was doing that all the time just like I was, and they were just idk better at dealing with messing up and/or managing the anxiety that comes with unfamiliar social situations, and my REAL problem is that I suck at that part, but no I guess not everyone is constantly playing high stakes 5D chess in their heads during every social situation trying to figure out how to act based on what the people around them are doing! Wild!!

And it's funny too bcs I also kinda assumed this wasn't an autism thing?? Bcs the autistic people I know in real life are VERY social and love meeting new people and talking to complete strangers, so I figured I must have something else wrong with me that makes me hate talking to strangers to the point that a random person striking up a conversation with me at the bus stop gives me horrible anxiety and/or makes me upset, bcs I only feel comfortable engaging socially with other people when there's a script or a structure I'm familiar with or I am with someone I trust who I can use as a reference point for how to act. Like it's probably just social anxiety or smthn, right?? But now I don't know lol

Anyway this is why I'm not sure I'm ever gonna feel comfortable self dx-ing, not bcs it's bad or anything I'm just way too confused by these questions to actually come to a conclusion as to what it all means.

[jeweledstone]

More vaguely Pizza Tower related bullshit with everyone’s favorite yandere twink cunt bitch god I hate him

DATE: 10/31/2023 - 11/1/2023

Oh boy, it’s that time again folks! Time for some unhinged self-insert fan fiction-esque nonsense that’d make a wattpad user shudder in fear.

So basically, more shenanigans with Pizzahead/Totino from the hit indie game Pizza Tower and his attempts to kidnap me and turn me into Peppino cause the REAL Peppino doesn’t love him back or some shit like that. For the hopelessly confused, here’s a link to the previous dream post I made regarding this particular plot point. For everyone else, click the read more for the rest of this recounting :)

So, despite my hoping he’d just give up and start stalking someone else, ya boi is still being haunted in his dreams by the cartoon pizza man. RECENTLY he’s even gone as far as BREAKING INTO MY ACTUAL HOUSE to try and abduct me (in-dream of course, not in real life lmao)

One of his more recent appearances happened in a dream I had on Halloween night that was honestly, kinda Halloween themed outta sheer coincidence.

In it, me and my family were camping (a common theme/trope in my dreams for some reason) at this national park of sorts that was famous due to this massive cave it had in it that was EXTREMELY haunted. Like, it was very common for visitors to encounter at least one ghost (or phantom as they were called in-universe) while exploring said cave. My family was stopping to visit said cave before going home when The Bastard™ showed up. I remember he had on this sorta human disguise so my parents wouldn’t recognize him (cause again, mf tried to break into my house in previous dream). He somehow convinced them to let me go in the cave alone with him, claiming we were friends or some other bullshit, and that’s when the shit show truly began.

Now, first thing you need to know about this cave, is how massive it is. At its deepest, the cave went down to about 5000 meters (16404.2 feet for my fellow Americans) below the earth. Naturally, park guests weren’t allowed to go that deep in, you could only go about 10 meters (100 if you’re over 18) before there was some kinda blockade keeping you from going further. Aside from the obvious safety protocol stuff, another reason was because the deeper you went into the cave, the more ghosts you’d encounter, and the more aggressive said ghosts would be.

Either the ghosts or the cave itself also had these strange, reality-bending properties to it that would affect guests who stayed in the cave for a prolonged period of time. One way they liked to fuck with people was by transforming them in ways that often depended on said person’s most prominent personality trait (often causing said trait to be exaggerated as the person’s mental state changed along with thier body). Said changes were reversed once the person affected left the cave.

And…

Guess what happened to my anxiety filled ass when they got a hold of me!

Yep, back at it again with THIS BULLSHIT. Idk if this happened because of PH was there or what, but yeah. Now here I am, once again tf’d into Peppino against my will, trapped in a cave with someone who’s been obsessively stalking me for months now, and one wrong move away from a full blown panic attack. Said panic ended up happening when, at a really deep point in the cave, me and PH were cornered by some really large and threatening ghosts who were definitely planning on not letting us out of that cave alive.

I kinda-sorta blacked out around this part, but from what I could figure out, it was about then that Pep kinda… “took over” and beat the shit outta the ghosts (apparently killing a few some-fucking-how) before making a break outta the cave. I remember “waking up” outside the cave, having already changed back to normal.

After that…incident… life mostly went back to normal after my family went back home, save for some supernatural entities (which were commonplace in this verse) becoming afraid of me due to the whole killing an unkillable entity thing that happened in the cave.

So that’s basically it. I haven’t really seen much of PH since then, but I know he made it outta the cave and is still out there (unfortunately). So, yeah, that’s all folks. See ya.

[thmgau]

CHAPTER 11 - THE AUCTION BEGINS [wattpad link]

---

“Ohoho! It seems you 5 have fallen for my trap! ~” “YOU! Where the hell are we?!”

The group was in a freezing cold room, with their only source of light being a small, unreachable window. The door in front of them jiggled a little bit, & in walked The Auctioneer.

“Well, you’re in my Auction House, silly!” he smiled. “We already said we weren’t interested in bidding on anything, dude. Take a hint.” “The only one here who should be taking the hint is you!” The Auctioneer pointed at Cherry. “You all remember Thursday night, yea? When I said you didn’t have to bid on anything?” “Uh.. yea?” “See, you’re not here to bid on stuff, you’re here to be bid ON!” “Huh?” “What do you mean by that?”

The Auctioneer sighed. “Oh, you’re still confused? Well, y’see... this freezer that you 5 are in right now is a very special freezer!” “Is that true?” “Yes! In fact, it can turn people into statues!” “Statues?!” “Yup! Within an hour or two, you all should be 100% turned into statues, ready for the auction!” “That’s fucked up, dude!” “Well, if you didn’t want to be auctioned off, you shouldn’t have messed around in business that wasn’t yours.” The Auctioneer shrugged.

“What do you mean ‘business that wasn’t yours’?” “Perhaps the name Pim rings a bell?”

The group gasped.

“You mean that fucked-up banana guy?” “Hey! That ‘fucked-up banana guy’ is my boyfriend, thank you very much!” “He’s your boyfriend?!” “Yes! & he told me about the little stunt you all pulled at his restaurant, breaking his Bananainator & all!” “He was gonna turn everyone into bananas!” “That sounds like a you problem then. Anyways, Pim & I have some setting up to do for the auction! Ta-ta!”

With that, The Auctioneer took a bow & left the freezer, leaving the group to their own devices.

Cherry crossed their arms & leaned against the wall. “I shouldn’t have gone on that stupid scavenger hunt. It was a trick from the very beginning!”

“You went on a scavenger hunt too?” “Yea?” “I also went on a scavenger hunt!” “Did we all get lured here by the same thing?” “I guess so..” “That motherfucker! I’ll kill him!” “Well... how do we get outta here?” Nora questioned, looking around the room.

“What are the chances they forgot to lock the door?” Leslie asked. “Let’s see!”

Juniper approached the door & tried to open it. It did not work. “Well, I guess that answers that.”

“Whatever. If we don’t find a way out of this place soon, we’re fucked!” “What if we used our weapons?” “We can’t do that! My sibling’s here!” “Sorrel’s at the auction?” “Yea, they saw the poster from Thursday & was interested in the auction.. so..” “We can just.. use the weapons to knock down the door & then switch back into our normal clothes.” “Oh. I didn’t think of that.” “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s do that!”

The group all pulled on their necklaces & entered Hero Mode, summoning their weapons.

“Alright!” Cherry raised her sword up. “Let’s bust out of this fucking place!”

-

Outside of the freezer room, the Auction House was actually quite elegant. A few guests were there already, waiting for the auction to start. The Auctioneer, along with the help of Pim, were setting the last few things up.

There was a table set up, with refreshments such as Arby’s chicken tenders, pizza, cupcakes, & more. Purple balloons were set in place on the table, being held down by some rocks. A clipboard was set on the table as well, with some Sharpies, for guests to sign in.

Most of the preparations were complete. All they had to do now was take the eggs into the back of the Auction House. After the auction was finished, Pim & The Auctioneer were going to celebrate by making some omelettes.

“Nice thinking on the eggs, Pim,” The Auctioneer smiled, grabbing the 3 egg cartons. “I haven’t had omelettes in a looong time!” “& I’ve never had omelettes at all! It’ll be a nice meal to celebrate our revenge, Puck.” “It sure will!”

As the two of them walked toward the back, however, they had no idea they were being watched.

“Hmm.. I think those were Dollar General eggs.” Natalie hummed. “What... do Dollar General eggs have to do with anything?” Sorrel asked. “I’ll have you know that I work at Dollar General, & a f- a customer bought THREE cartons of eggs today! Not to mention, the banana guy!” “The... banana guy? You mean the guy in the banana costume?” “No, no. From what I’ve heard, that’s not a costume. That’s his skin.” “Oh, creepy.” “Yeah. Can you believe that guy tried to take over capitalism?! Something fishy is going on at this auction, & I’m gonna solve it.”

“Wait- hold on..” Sorrel paused. “Did you say.. take over capitalism?” “Uh- yeah?” “My sister was telling me a guy was trying to take over capitalism when I landed from my flight here. She never mentioned he was a banana.” “Some things are better left not being mentioned, I suppose.” Natalie shrugged, pulling out her squeaky hammer. “Enough waiting around, now. I’m gonna investigate.” “Um.. ok. Good l-”

All of a sudden, the building started to rumble. It wasn’t an earthquake, because it was only for a second or two. The Auctioneer nearly dropped the eggs.

“What was THAT?”

The Auctioneer & Pim turned to look at each other. The Auctioneer handed the eggs over to Pim. “Bring these to the kitchen, babe. I’m gonna go check on something.” “Ok, love you!” “Love you too!”

Natalie & Sorrel watched as The Auctioneer speed-walked across the Auction House & into a door. Natalie glanced around for a couple seconds.

“I’m following them.” “Isn’t that illegal?” “I’ve done worse.”

& so, Natalie snuck over & followed The Auctioneer to his destination.

-

“Hi-YAH!”

After what felt like an eternity, Cherry finally got the door knocked down.

“Woohoo!” Leslie cheered. “We’re free!” “Finally,” Cherry stretched her arms. “Now we can-”

Before Cherry could finish their sentence, the ground started rumbling.

“Oh, great. An earthquake.”

After a second or two, the rumbling stopped.

“Huh. Earthquakes usually last longer than that.” “I don’t think that was an earthquake.” “Let’s just focus on trying to get outta here.”

The group started walking down the hall, looking around for anything that could help them.

“Hey, I see a flight of stairs!” Juniper said, pointing toward a flight of stairs.

“Huh! That must mean we’re underground.” “Why would an auction house have a basement with a human freezer that turns people into statues?” “Beats me.” “I guess we should go up the stairs then, huh?” “I guess. If it’s the way out.”

The group pulled on their ties, reverting back into their normal clothes, & started heading up the stairs in a straight line (Kalani was in front). They hadn’t even made it 10 steps before they heard footsteps rapidly approaching them.

“Ah. Footsteps. Never a good thing to hear when you’re trying to escape something.”

After a few moments, The Auctioneer came to a sudden stop in front of the group, with a cane in his hand.

“Oh! You’ve escaped!” The Auctioneer grinned. “Yea, yea, now can you get out of our way please?” Kalani tried to shoo him off. “We kind of don’t want to be statues.” “Who said you had a choice in the matter?” The Auctioneer poked Kalani with the cane, & one by one the group tumbled down the stairs.

“OW!”

As they all landed on the ground, The Auctioneer walked down the stairs, approaching them.

“Now, for your safety, I highly recommend you get back in the freezer.” “Absolutely fuckin’ not, buddy.”

The group hopped up & tugged on their necklaces, entering Hero Mode once more with their weapons in hands.

“Oh, you wanna play it like that, do you now?” The Auctioneer tossed his cane aside. “Then I’d be happy to oblige.”

Nora flung her whip at The Auctioneer a couple of times, but they moved out of the way before it hit them. Cherry tried to swing her sword at The Auctioneer, however, he just grabbed the blade with his hands before it hit him.

“Feelin’ a little feisty now, are we?” “Wh- How are your hands not bleeding?!” “That’s none of your business!”

Cherry tried to yank their sword out of The Auctioneer’s hands, but either they were too weak or The Auctioneer was too strong, because it wasn’t working.

“Let go of my sword, asshole!” “No thanks!” “Don’t worry, Cherry-pop!” Kalani said, aiming her wand at The Auctioneer. “I’ve got this!”

Kalani shot a magic blast from his wand at The Auctioneer. They maneuvered the sword in such a way that it reflected the magic blast, making it bounce back at the group. They all dodged the blast & it hit the wall.

“Ooookay. Guess I don’t got this.”

The Auctioneer grinned. “Now, clearly we’ve entered a standstill. It would be smart of you to enter the freezer again. Delaying the inevitable will only cause further problems.”

“Do you think we’re dumb enough to go back in there?” “You’re certainly dumb enough to go on my scavenger hunt.” “HOW were we supposed to know that was a trap?” “How weren’t you supposed to know? It was written all over the poster, in purple, cursive font-”

Before The Auctioneer could finish their sentence, they collapsed to the ground, with a squeaky noise accompanying his fall. The group looked up.

It was Natalie.

[rarestdogebutmemey]

Time for the story of how I ended up drinking dish soap.

So one morning before school, I was going to get a drink ready to take with me. Except I was very behind on dishes, which meant no clean bottles. So I took one from the sink and cleaned it with, you guessed it, dish soap. But the thing is, I rushed myself because I was worried that my bus could come any minute now because I woke up later than I should've.

So I take my 2 liter Mountain Dew bottle out from the fridge and pour the rest of it in the bottle I just cleaned. There's bubbles, but I just assumed that was normal because that's just what sodas do when you pour em.

I quickly take a sip before I plan to screw the cap on, right? And what I taste is just a fucking WAVE of soap in my throat and mouth, along with just a hint of that mountain dew. Not to mention, I instinctively SWALLOWED it, too, before the taste actually hit me. Basically, I went like:

COUGH EEUGH BLEUGH "WHAT THE FU-" UGG COUGH COUGH

With my mom in the dining room confusingly asking me if I'm okay in the background. Apparently, I ended up not washing out the dish soap out of my bottle well enough in my rush. Needless to say, that was disgusting but hilarious. I ended up just dumping the thing out in the sink outta disappointment because I just wasted the rest of my Mountain Dew. But hey, now I can tell people that I've drank dish soap before and confuse and worry the shit out of them. It's funny.

[shawnjacksonsbs]

I'm going to start by saying I'm still going to post my entry and the video as I had planned to, but . . .

I have to add, that this evening I got a call that one of my older boys was in a terrible car wreck and that he was in the hospital.

Of course we headed out.

The whole way my head was reelin'. Is it just human nature to assume the worst in situations like this? Several actual worse case scenarios played out in my mind.

I still feel like I could throw up my heart at any second.

What if, what if, what if, what if.

. . .

What now?

He's ok.

He's probably not going to feel ok physically, mentally, or emotionally for a while, but he is.

If you're my people, and you know if you are, I just need you to be ok. Make good choices and be ok. Ok???

If you're not my people, well, I want the same for you guys, but it's just on a different level. Lol no lol

Everything below this is the entry I had written and planned out. I just had to get that out my head.

He's ok.

I'm still sick about it.

If you pray, please pray. Otherwise please keep him in your heart and in your positive thoughts.

~

Yeah.

Let's call this one

the REINS of TERROR,

because the ones holding them probably aren't who you think they are anyway. 11-4-23

""" Hawkeye : War isn't Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.

Father Mulcahy : How do you figure, Hawkeye?

Hawkeye : Easy, Father. Tell me, who goes to Hell?

Father Mulcahy : Sinners, I believe.

Hawkeye : Exactly. There are no innocent bystanders in Hell. War is chock full of them - little kids, cripples, old ladies. In fact, except for some of the brass, almost everybody involved is an innocent bystander. """

I don't normally attach my entries to videos. I've attached to a few pics or memes over the years, but this one . . .moved me, enough.

Now remember kids,

in real life,

"outta sight, outta mind" makes it too easy and way too comfortable to choose a side in a conflict you probably don't truly know much about.

Aside from what the media feeds ya, and then depending on your left or right wing news sources that lean their program in "your direction.". . .what???

It's this kinda shit that makes it hard for me to respect your politics and religion. I struggle with the little beauty I do find in it.

I just wanna scream fuck your religion and god damn your politics. If this is what comes from your side, try again.

You best be the gold standard for your cause, because this isn't ok.

AT ALL!

What about his fucking side??

I'd fight a side I agree with to protect the innocent.

I'd probably fight you to keep this boy out of harms way.

We are always involved in different conflicts, as a country, that we shouldn't be in, or choosing a side instead of forcing an end.

Is it a for profit war (?) hmm,

or are we scared to shut it all down because it's all sacred ground or whatever the fuck?

Repeatedly throughout my life, we rarely handle conflicts abroad in ways that make sense for anyone besides a few politicians, a few military leaders, and, I'd imagine, several of the rich and elite.

People aren't pawns on a chess board.

I'll never get over how innocent civilian casualties are statistically calculated, and they put a % on how many are acceptable losses. That's not just our country either, that's everywhere.

As our politicians in the House approve over 14 BILLION in military aid.

Aren't we still the world's #1 super power? Why aren't we . . .just stopping it.

Now, go ahead and bring your little bit of noise.

#damntheman at home or abroad

#killin'inthenameof

#fuckyourside, weak ass side anyways

Loving and caring will always be harder and the true path for the hero(s).

When I say share your LOVE and laughter with the WORLD, who the fuck is it, exactly, that you think I'm talking about?

Until next week, and just so there's no confusion;

"Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you."

(Others means: anyone not you, anyone not like you, everyone else)""

Perspective growth is knowing that my son laying up in the hospital and this little boy in the video have each enhanced my emotional range for the other.

Quite a bit, if I'm being honest. This happens to me more frequently these days than it ever used to. Js

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #089

(taken december 15th of last year; uploading surveys taken while gone)

Do you think you’re good enough for the person you like? Nope. He deserves someone more successful. And actually pretty.

Is this year the best year of your life? Nope. I still think 2017 was. Wild that it started with an OD... things change, man. Healing happens.

Is your current hair color your natural hair color? No. It's some mess of purple and like seaweed-green right now. I'm ready to get it fixed, IF things even go right this time... I feel bad for my poor hairdresser, she's completely legit and has decades of practice and skill and my hair confuses the hell outta her with how it reacts to and mostly rejects color.

Do you think your first love affects the way you go on with life? In MY case, it absolutely, very strongly did, but I have a feeling that's not the case with absolutely everyone.

Is there something you want to say to someone but can’t/won’t? Yeah.

Who gives the best advice? I think Mazzy. They're just very wise and reasonable imo and can see so many angles of a situation and I just really respect their advice.

Do you have a lot of pictures of you and your friends? No. I hate having pictures taken of myself because I'm hideous but I'm trying to get over it honestly because I WANT pictures with people I love for when I'm old and want to look back.

Who do you usually see in your dreams? Honestly, a lot of the time, my nightmares involve people I don't or very barely know at all, it's really strange. Sometimes it's my mom, though, which is just as if not more odd because honestly I'm closer to her than I've ever been these days; I never have violent thoughts/urges against her in my conscious world. Jason also still kinda regularly shows up, though he's never been the subject of one of my violent nightmares, just normal painful dreams.

What was the weather like yesterday? It's been super cold and rainy the past few days.

Why did you last leave school early? Oh hell if I know, it's been years.

Do you know anybody in the military? I know OF people, but no one personally. I have a friend who I'm 99% sure WAS in the military but left because she hated it.

Who is your favorite animated character? Pyramid Head/Red Pyramid Thing from the SH franchise.

What’s your preferred salad dressing? What Olive Garden uses. I'm thankful you can buy it at Wal-Mart lmao.

Do you have a favorite NASCAR driver? I have a negative amount of interest in that.

Have you ever been diagnosed with anything unexpected, mental or physical illness? How did you finally find out? Ummmmm maybe? I'm quite sure nothing mental though because I've expected pretty much everything I've been diagnosed with.

Where do you like to sit when you’re on the computer? I only use the laptop on the desk in the spare room these days. Those years of living in my bed are pretty far behind me now, thank the actual fucking lord.

Does it ever bother you when you can’t remember all the details about a book you’ve read? YES!!!! This is actually why I'm considering re-reading The Outsiders. I still consider it one of my favorite books because I remember the impact it left on me, but I can remember almost nothing about it by this point.

Who was your favorite character in the last movie you watched? What about in the last book you read? Ummm I'm pretty sure that was The Secret Life of Pets, and looking up the character list (I'm not familiar enough with the names), probably Chloe because oh my god WHAT A CAT. I also like Gidget bc RELATABLE HUNNY

If you keep lists, what kind of topics do they cover? Heh... in my phone memos, I have lists of drawing ideas, ball python morphs + tarantula species I want, as WELL as other pets (mostly reptiles), future gift plans for Girt, tattoo ideas, and reasons to stay motivated and never give up.

Do you feel as though you’re good at understanding/communicating with animals? I definitely do.

What is the biggest decision you’ve made in the past year? Probably dropping Sara from my life.

If you could reconnect with someone from your past, who would it be and why? Megan. Because despite lying about so fucking much for pity and to be "cooler" or whatever the hell she thought, I just still feel like she was, at heart, a good person that very much cared about me like I did her, she just... had problems that by this age I would genuinely hope she fixed. I'll always remember talking on the phone for hours, staying up late texting, being there for each other... There was something about that friendship that has never been replicated since.

What movie/show "emotionally scarred" you as a kid? Fuckin Courage the Cowardly Dog. 😭 King Ramses can eat a dick and a half

How do you cheer up your best friend? I get extra affectionate when he's down.

When’s the next time you’ll be drinking? Zero idea. Maybe New Year's.

Last piercing you got and the next piercing you’re getting? Last one I got, tongue. I'm pretty sure I'm getting an industrial ear piercing next.

Who do you text the most? My mom.

What kind of car does your boyfriend have? I am absolutely horrible with cars, I have zero idea. It's pretty nice though, that and the fact it's either black or dark blue (idr) is all I really know.

Have you ever played Gamecube? I feel like I have at a friend's place.

What are you fascinated by? Abnormal sciences are a big one, like mutations and shit. I just find all things nature-oriented to be very interesting.

Would you be willing to be examined for medical research? I'd need more details.

Do you have a favorite pet? I adore Roman and Venus quite the same, although I think it's very understandable that mine and Roman's bond is closer, given snakes are unable to form those kinds of relationships. I KNOW Roman loves me, but all I expect Venus to do is trust me, and that's fine. That's just the reptilian brain.

Could you call your best friend right now and tell them your biggest secret, and trust them to keep it? Yes.

Have you ever touched a caterpillar? Yeah, I loved holding them as a kid. I still very much remember in elementary school, there was a big tree us kids got to play around on like field days and stuff, and it was COVERED in caterpillars during the right time of year.

Is there a YouTube channel whose videos you always watch? Mmm, mostly. I watch almost everything John Wolfe uploads, and then I go on binges of catching up with tarantula kat and Snake Discovery.

Who is one singer or band you would kill to see live? RAMMSTEIN RAMMSTEIN RAMMSTEIN ON GOD 😭 their concerts are legendary and I physically, emotionally, and spiritually NEED to go

What if you found out your ex was having a child with someone else? If it was Jason, I'm very well aware I would feel EXTREMELY weird and almost absolutely have an emotional breakdown at some point bc trauma and once upon a time that's what *I* wanted, but I think I'd ultimately be okay, at least eventually. If I found out Sara was pregnant, I'd honestly be extremely worried about her because she has never wanted children and we both know that her body absolutely could not handle pregnancy.

Do you like your middle name, or does it embarrass you? I mean it's pretty, but it is way, WAY too damn common. I know SO many people not even related to me that have "Marie" as a middle name, too.

When was the last time you couldn’t stop laughing? Why? fucking last night when I was watching a Game Grumps episode, lol

Any ways in which you’re very different from the person you love/ like? I am way, WAY more emotional than he is.

Who was the last person to unfriend you on Facebook? Idk, idc.

Do you know why he/she decided to unfriend you? I'm sure it was either a political or religious thing, I ain't shy about sharing those beliefs.

Have your grandparents ever asked you about your love/sex life? lol homie the only grandmother I knew didn't give a shit about me or what I had going on, ever. Not that I at all woulda WANTED her to ask something like this, but yeah, she did not care about anything stemming from/relating to my mother/her own fucking daughter. Mom was the black sheep, and then I was. So she double didn't like me, I'm sure.

What was the last amusement park ride you went on? Oh wow, I don't think I've been on one since very shortly before the breakup... Jason, his friend Dillon, and I went to the town fair and I stepped WAY outside my comfort zone in getting on one of those really tall rides where you sit around this circular thing and are carried way, way up and then abruptly dropped. I am very afraid of those rides (safe to say I screamed lmao) but said fuck it and did it anyway. It's an achy memory because this actually might have been the exact night of the breakup, but if it wasn't, I KNOW it was extremely close. I tried my best to stop being afraid of everything and just taking that first scary step but it wasn't enough.

Who was the last person to give you some of their food? Uh probs Mom.

The last person you met, what was your first impression of them? Uh pretty sure I last met a doctor, and I thought he was fine but seemed kinda bad with talking. Same, bro.

When was the last time you felt left out? idk

Who was the last person you told a secret to? My sister Nicole, I guess. She wanted to know why Mom entirely broke down outside of Ashley's place a few weeks ago, and I really wasn't sure if Mom would want her to know, but I also felt extremely weird hiding that from my sister so told her, along with that she absolutely could not tell Ash because Mom doesn't want her to know. I still feel weird about it, also having told her to not tell Mom I'd shared it with her. It was a messy convo I just really didn't know how to handle, a big part absolutely being because that I'm always so desperate to feel like my sisters like me so did what I knew she wanted.

Have you ever been on a ferris wheel that had swinging cages/gondolas? Were you in the swinging cage/gondola or too chicken to go on it? Going back to that town fair thing with Jason, yes. I remember he was afraid to get on it because he hated heights, but I talked him into it. We kissed at the top and I thought it was super cute.

How many people have you had feelings for this year? Only Girt.

Your parents split; would you want to live with your mom or dad? My parents did split, and Nicole and I (Ash had already moved out) stayed with Mom.

Do you think somebody’s in love with you? I think, yeah. He's never said those exact words but his actions are pretty loud.

Do you ever listen to music that’s in a different language? I very regularly listen to Rammstein, and there's a Latin song from WoW I absolutely adore that I listen to sometimes. There's probably more; I really should listen to more foreign metal bands in specific, historically I've loved those kinds of songs.

What’s your most embarrassing moment? FUCK this one occasion where I realized Mom was home when I was rather sure she wasn't and walked out of my room half undressed after Doing Stuff with my bf and saw her on the couch and I just wanted to pass away. We never, ever addressed what happened and I am beyond thankful my mom clearly made the decision to just pretend nothing happened lmao

What was the last thing you took a video of? I actually don't know.

Are there any ways in which your childhood was highly atypical? My dad was an alcoholic, for one. I was honestly just a weird kid, too. At least, I feel like I was. I liked untraditional things.

Have you ever been somewhere where you didn’t fluently speak the local language? No.

Have you ever dated someone from a very different socioeconomic background? Yes, Sara, but I honestly feel really weird sharing details about this because it's just totally not my business to share. I typed it out but ended up deleting it, I felt gross.

Do you own a disco ball? No, but man I wish I did now just so I could see how Roman would react to it, lol.

What mountain range is closest to your house? Appalachian.

Have you ever had famous neighbors? No, not that I'm aware.

Are you competitive? Nah. I'm not gonna say I NEVER am, but that is super far from a regular trait of mine.

[TW: SUICIDE/DRUG OD] What’s the biggest risk you’ve ever taken? I guess in all technicality, overdosing pretty heavily on cold meds. It still blows my fucking mind practically nothing happened, though I'm going to credit that to getting lots of fluids in time, ig.

[melancholicmarionette]

Sam Manson pops outta the damn wilderness: part deux (titles are expensive I am poor)

TW: profanity, injury mentions, proofreading done on a Southwest Airlines flight (none)

Prev | Next

*

“What the hell happened to you?”

Paulina was the one who asked, but it was Star who actually got Manson to sit down, sideways on the back driver’s side seat, the ceiling light illuminating dark hair sticky with blood and her badly bruised left eye.

“They have the boys,” she finally muttered. “I need to—I need to think.”

“The boys?” Paulina asked.

“My boys, you know them,” she said, and it clicked. Fenton and Foley. “I have to go back but I need…help.”

“You need to go to the hospital,” Star said seriously.

“No!” Manson said, and Star flinched. “I don’t have time.”

Paulina took in Manson’s appearance in full when the latter was finally still—her face was scratched up, her left eye swelling as Star waved her index finger back and forth in front of Manson’s eyes asking her to follow it (her Red Cross first aid certificate was well-earned, honestly). She wasn’t as elaborately dressed in her weird goth getup, she had on torn black jeans and a Dumpty Humpty shirt covered by a dark blue flannel button-up Paulina was sure she had seen Fenton wear before. Her left hand seemed to be neatly wrapped in gauze, which struck Paulina as odd given…well, the state of the rest of her.

“Seriously, you lose a fight with a bear?” She asked. Manson sighed, like it wasn’t a totally valid question. One of the most valid questions on earth, really.

“No, I—“ she sat up straight suddenly, turning her head towards the woods that the side of the road trailed into after a few feet. She stood up when she realized her view was blocked by the car, so stiff it was like she didn’t breathe. “We need to leave.”

Paulina just looked at Star, confused. The “we” certainly wasn’t a question—high school politics, while important, weren’t a good enough reason to leave Manson on the side of the road. But her suddenly resembling a startled rabbit was definitely worrying. Paulina took a chance, following Manson’s gaze, and a flash flickered from between the trees, followed by another, bouncing unevenly in the air. Flashlights.

“Manson…” Paulina said, her voice hushed, “who’s that?”

“I’ll—I promise I’ll tell you, but we need to go, now.”

Normally, the mere idea of taking orders from Manson would make Paulina break out in hives. But the goth seemed tense and even afraid, neither of which normally applied to her. Her thoughts only lingered on it for a second.

“Get in the car,” she told Star, who obeyed, and with the spam of two doors and the press of a button they were off before the owners of the flashlights exited the woods. She’d never made the tires squeal before—it was kind of exhilarating.

“Manson, are we running from the government or something?” Paulina asked. It was the only situation she could think of, though it didn’t make sense. As far as she knew Manson only ever got caught for vandalism in sophomore year and got a slap on the wrist.

But Manson didn’t answer.

“That was a joke guess!” She smacked the steering wheel to illustrate the point.

“I don’t know what you want me to say!”

“That I’m not harboring a fucking fugitive!”

“I…hrm,” Manson groaned. Paulina imagined her face in her hands, though she couldn’t turn to look. The lights of Amity Park’s city limits were in view, and as far as she could tell they weren’t being followed. “I don’t…know how to explain.”

“Lina, I think she has a concussion,” Star told her when she could see Paulina’s grip on the steering wheel tighten. “We really need to take her to the—“

“If you take me to the hospital I will tuck and roll out of this car,” Manson said sharply. “I need to get to Jazz Fenton, she lives downtown—you know if you just get me into the general area I can like—I could figure it out…”

Paulina knew the tone, she’d taken it many times herself—it was that of a person trying to convince the people around them that they had a plan, but they themselves didn’t believe it.

“We’re not leaving you on the street at…” Paulina looked at the clock on the dashboard, “midnight. Do you know Jazz’s address?”

“Ah…in my phone.”

“…You don’t have your phone, do you?”

“I do not.”

“Does The Government have your phone?”

“I am not at liberty to say.”

“Manson…” Paulina griped, and she just let it hang in the air. Now she was just fucking with her.

“Let’s go to my house,” Star said, “my first aid kit’s there and my mom isn’t.”

Paulina, at this point, was resigned, and it seemed that Manson was as well. Shaking her head, she muttered “insane, absolutely insane” as she turned down Star’s street.

She was going to regret this, wasn’t she?

—

Got some Sam POV in the works dw

[beewithknee]

leap of faith

sam hurt/comfort

t.w - illusions of suicide (i liken love to taking a jump)

You sat quietly humming a tune, legs dangling off the edge. No one was around, good. You didn't wanna have to deal with people. Love, you had decided, was a siren sound. It was like the goddess who promises endless apologies of paradise. It was a trick that only she could make right, but just when you needed her, she disappeared.

What were you supposed to do?

The ledge was calm, quiet. Broken only by your off-key hums. “Should I take the jump?” The wind shrugged back, eyes blank but somehow slightly warm.

“Did you?” Yeah

“Did it hurt?” No, not really.

“I’m scared” So was I, it can be a terrifying thing taking that jump, that leap of faith. But it’s up to you now.

You looked away, not having the strength to face it and its judgemental gaze. “But it's like the-” you looked back, it was gone. Something in you was disappointed but another part relieved. You supposed it’d feel like dying once it happened. Falling was just like flying, except with a more permanent destination, you just hoped he’d actually catch you. Children were born with two basic fears; loud noises and falling, the others developed with time. Fear was a monster of a thing. It slithered it’s way through your system, crawling under your skin and binding to your blood before it travelled up through your heart and into your head, poisoning everything it touched along the way. You had grown afraid, deeply, terribly, paralysingly afraid of love. Perhaps it wasn't the actual love that you were afraid of, maybe it was just the chance of that love leading to more pain as it always did. Things, this time, had seemed different though. He was nice, treated you with respect, listened to you and genuinely wanted to help. Sam was, for lack of a better word, a good man. “Oh, what have I gotten myself into?” You whispered out to the universe, silently hoping whatever god was out there, would have a response. The trees rustled and you scoffed before shuffling a bit. The rock you were purched on was a secluded one. Hardly anyone knew of it and based on the time of day or night rather, no one would dare go up there. “What should I do?” Do you trust him? “Trust? I… Yeah, I think I do.” And like that, it fell into place. Sam felt good. He felt right. He felt like home. You refocused on the dark sky that was displayed out in front of you. You laughed humorlessly, you were talking to the fucking wind.

What the hell was wrong with you?

To be fair, most of the time, it seemed to be the only thing that actually listened and understood. “It’s not fair.” Love hardly is. Ain’t that the truth. You hadn’t intended on falling for the vampire and you sure as shit hadn’t planned on sticking around long enough to get to know him.

Shit.

“-lin?” A voice echoed through the woods. That’s odd, normally nobody was around to disturb you. “DARLING! OH GOD.” Sam cried, your eyebrows furrowed. He lurched forward, using his vampire speed to get to you. His arms went around your waist and pulled you back until you were fully on the solid ground. “Oh thank god I found you. I… I was so scared. David said you weren’t answering anyone's calls and then I tracked you here and-“ He cut himself off, voice choking on his tears. You were so confused. You were only, oh

“Sam, look at me. I wasn’t going to do anything.” He looked unconvinced and you rolled your eyes. “Really, I wasn’t. I just came out here to think.” You placed your hand over Sam’s rapidly heaving chest. He seemed to relax, eyes finding nothing but the truth. “You scared the fuck outta me, Darlin’.” He whispered, shifting you to lay between his legs, back to chest. “Sorry.” You whispered, truly feeling guilty. You hadn’t meant to scare him but it was almost nice how much he worried for you and your safety. You looked back out across the vast sky and sighed, leaning into his chest. The view somehow looked even better with him holding you tight.

Yeah, you took the leap of faith.

[slasherhaven]

Otis Driftwood planning to kill you until he actually sees you Part 2

Request: The reader is completely okay with the killing and everything and just acts like what happens at the Firefly house is an everyday normal thing. @tori-supernatural 

Part 1 to this is HERE

After meeting Otis in that bar and going home with him, you spent the night at the Firefly home. The only time you found yourself alone since arriving at the house was the next morning, when you woke up in Otis’ bed without him laying beside you.

You did think it was a silly thing to think but you were sure that you and the strange man had made a connection, there was certainly something between you both that was a little more than a one night stand. Though, you weren’t one to overstay your welcome and you believed that if the two of you were supposed to meet again, you would.

So, you climbed out of bed, gathered your clothes, and got dressed. Otis still hadn’t returned so you figured that you would just leave the bedroom, you’d probably bump into him or Baby anyway.

The house looked a little different during the day, and without Otis guiding you around, but still just as strange as you had originally thought it to be. As you approached the stairs, you could hear noises and people talking, you hoped it was Otis or Baby and you weren’t about to have an awkward encounter with another family member.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you followed the voices into the kitchen. Once yo reached the doorway, you froze, staring at the sight and trying to process what could have happened.

On the ground, in the middle of the kitchen, lay the young man that had come home with Baby last night, in a pool of his own blood. Dead. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Otis snapped at his sister, neither of them noticing your presence in the doorway.

“It ain’t my fault he got out” she scoffed.

“It was your responsibility” he reminded her, you looking between them both as they both talked. You couldn’t help but notice how casually they talked, sounding more like Baby had broken something rather than killed someone. It was all just too nonchalant. 

“If you had stuck to the plan instead of getting laid, none of this would’ve happened” Baby insisted. This murder seemed more like a inconvenience than a traumatic event to them.

“Shit...Y/n” Otis muttered, as if he was just remembering that he had left you in bed upstairs. 

“You better get her outta here before she sees this” his sister advised. 

“Too late” you finally spoke up after coming to your sense, though definitely not reacting the way you should or a normal person would. But it got their attention, making them look at you. “What happened to him?” you asked, leaving the siblings to try to figure out what the hell you were thinking. 

“He tried to run but I got to him first” Baby told you with a small shrug, once again acting like things were completely normal. If you weren’t going to freak out, neither was she, she already had to chase one person down today. 

“Right...” you nodded slowly, still trying to get a grasp of what exactly was going on here.

“You’re a little too calm” Otis squinted at you. 

“She’s processing” Baby rolled her eyes at her brother, like he was being oblivious. 

“I’m fine” you assured them, making them both look at you with confused expressions. “C’mon, it’s not like I thought you two  were model citizens when I met you, I knew you were dangerous, plus this guy can’t be Baby’s type. He was just an easy target” you shrugged. 

“He wasn’t easy, he was fast!” Baby protested, sounding offended by the suggestion that this man had been an easy kill, like you had been underestimating her. It amused you a little. 

“If last night taught me anything, it’s that you’re a little fucked up” Otis commented, making you blush slightly, “but this is a whole new level.” 

“That’s rich coming from someone who just killed a man” you scoffed.

“Actually, I killed him, thank you” Baby huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. 

“Right, sorry” you apologised with a small nod. “But this is a regular thing for you guys, right?” you accused more than asked. 

“How’d ya guess that?” Otis questioned, still squinting at you, trying to figure you out. Ever since he met you at the bar, you had been a mystery to him. 

“You’re also way too calm, and it sounds like you had a plan last night. I put the pieces together” you stated. You’re matched casualness must have thrown him off, he knew there was something about you that drew him in but it seemed like the two of you were more of a match than he had originally thought.

“She’s clever” Baby grinned, looking to her brother. 

“Fuckin’ hell, Baby” Otis rolled his eyes, annoyed with her interruptions, as he walked up to you. “I knew you were fucking crazy from the moment I saw ya” he told you as he grabbed your arm roughly, pulling you out of the kitchen.

“Welcome to our world!” Baby called after you with a laugh, knowing that Otis would definitely plan on keeping you around now.

Otis dragged you into the living toom before pushing you forward and releasing your arm. 

“When you approached me at the bar, you were planning on killing me right?” you asked as you turned to him, not seeming all that phased by the possibility.

“Something along those lines” Otis confessed, staring you down. 

“Why didn’t you?” you asked curiously. 

“Sensed the fucked up in ya, looks like I was right” he teased with a slight smirk. 

“Ain’t you observant” you smirked right back. “So, what now?” you asked. 

“I’ll give ya a choice” Otis hummed, eyeing you up and down, sizing you up all over again. “I know ya ain’t going to the cops, so ya can walk out that door and forget about this place...or I can show ya everything” he offered. Otis considered himself a good judge of character, and for the most part he was, and he was sure that you were going to answer the way he wanted you too. 

“I ain’t got nowhere to be...show me” you couldn’t help but wonder what else this man had in store for you, and you found yourself needing to know everything.  

“Oh, we’re goin’ to have a lot of fun” Otis smirked as he stepped towards you, throwing an arm around your shoulders. 

“You promise?” you asked as you looked up at him, stopping him from guiding you through the room by turning to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. 

“Just hope ya can handle it” he was teasing you, something about the way he was looking at you told you that he thought you might be able to handle it and he was looking forward to it.

“I can handle a lot” you assured him confidently. 

Otis’ smirk grew before he lent down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, one that you instantly returned. 

“We’ll see” he pulled away from the kiss, seeing how you smiled up at him with a shine in your eyes.

You unwrapped your arms from around his waist but he kept one of his around your shoulder, guiding you through the house to show you all of the family’s dark secrets.

Maybe you were right, you and Otis were meant to cross paths, and maybe you were meant to end up here the whole time. What you knew for sure was that you would be sticking around for a while and things were about to get much more interesting.

[miracleonice87]

Cape Cod Confessions - Kevin Hayes

a/n: this one hit me outta nowhere and I blame my Philly loves @broadstbroskis and @princessphilly for enabling me 😉😘 (jk you know I adore you.) writing this one actually made writing feel fun again. I'm grateful for that. also hey, I'm writing for Kevin Hayes now! keep that in mind for the next prompt list lol.

warnings: I think just swearing. also heads up, this is an OC. I like them and I ain't sorry.

word count: 4.4K+

_____

The familiar scene in the yard of Kate’s parents’ summer home on Cape Cod would normally fill her with contentment and peace, as all her family and closest, lifelong friends were gathered together in celebration. Her brother was marrying his college sweetheart in twenty-four hours, and Kate had every reason to be happy.

Today, though, after not being part of such an occasion for many months due to work obligations back in Seattle, Kate felt strange pangs of guilt and discomfort. Days like today made her wonder why she had ever left Boston in the first place.

And seeing her childhood best friend Kevin manning the grill, his nieces and nephews hanging from his long limbs as he promised them he would play with them as soon as the food was finished, made her wonder why she had ever left him in the first place.

How she had ever left him in the first place.

Kate was still lost in her own thoughts when, from across the lawn, she heard a shrill scream, followed by an ecstatic, “Auntie Kate!”

Her goddaughter Neila’s voice was unmistakable, and Kate set her purse on the grass just in time to catch Neila on her running jump, all the way from her Uncle Kevin straight into Kate’s arms. Pure joy flooded Kate’s soul as she caught Neila, giggling, and held the little girl to her chest.

“My beautiful Nene!” Kate exclaimed, kissing her cheek. “I missed you!”

Neila pulled back, pushing her hair away from her face. “I missed you, too,” she said sincerely before throwing her arms around Kate’s neck again.

A moment later, Neila wriggled out of Kate’s hold and turned toward the crowd of family and friends on the patio.

“Auntie Kate is here!” Neila announced, eliciting chuckles from the adults. Except for one — Kevin, whose eyes had already been glued to Kate since his niece’s initial squeal upon discovering her arrival. He’d turned his back on the grill to find his niece holding onto Kate’s hands and hopping backwards in an effort to pull her to join the party on the patio.

Kevin looked on as Kate threw her head back in laughter, and he felt the sort of distinct happiness that he only found when Kate was near. He couldn’t stop staring, mesmerized by how radiant she looked in her lilac sundress, with her curls thrown over her shoulders… that is, he couldn’t stop staring until his brother clapped him hard on the shoulder.

“Steaks are gonna burn, Kev,” Jimmy said loudly in order to bring Kevin back down to earth. Kevin simply nodded and turned back to the grill. Jimmy’s eyes traveled to where Kate stood reuniting with her immediate family, and a soft smile found his lips.

“She looks beautiful, no?” Jimmy spoke into Kevin’s ear, more softly this time. He was always more than willing to publicly embarrass his little brother when it came to an array of subjects. But Kate wasn’t one of them. Jimmy wouldn’t dare.

Kevin only nodded, again. Jimmy squeezed his shoulder, then scooped up his little son in his arms and headed to see his old friend.

Kate’s parents, her older brother Patrick, and his fiancée Joelle had just finished taking turns greeting her with hugs when, over her brother’s shoulder, she spotted Jimmy carrying Beau.

“Baby Beau!” Kate gasped, holding out her hands as Beau smiled and reached out for her. “Who let you get this big?!” she questioned as she took him in her arms. He simply giggled and laid his head on her shoulder.

“Hello, Kathleen Paige,” Jimmy greeted, using her full name as he had for Kate’s entire life, no matter how much she had hated the Irish moniker as a young kid.

“Hi, J,” she replied fondly, leaning in so that he could wrap her in a hug and plant a kiss to her forehead. “Your boy is getting way too big,” she told him, tickling Beau’s belly and making him laugh.

“Tell me about it,” Jimmy said. “How are you? You look great.”

Kate glanced downward, tucking some hair behind her ear.

“Thanks. I’m okay,” she replied uncharacteristically dryly, switching Beau to her other arm. “It’s good to be home,” she added without elaboration.

Jimmy nodded in understanding.

“It’s good to have you home,” he agreed, then tilted his head toward the house. “Kristen’s inside. She can’t wait to see you.”

Kate beamed at the mention of Jimmy’s wife, one of her closest friends for years now.

“I can’t wait, either,” she said, just as Beau reached back toward his dad, making them both laugh. “Here, take your mini me. I’m gonna go finish my rounds,” she told him as her eyes flickered in search of the younger Hayes brother.

Jimmy retrieved his son and smirked down at her, his own eyes dancing.

“You do that,” he encouraged, teasing in his tone.

Kate rolled her eyes, but, just as Jimmy had anticipated, she headed straight toward the barbecue next, passing at least a dozen other people who had been waiting to see her.

“Hey, grill master,” she said, her hand gently coming to rest on Kevin’s back.

Her touch took him by surprise, and he nearly fumbled the tongs in his hands as he turned to greet her, his tall frame towering over hers.

“Hey, Katie girl,” he spoke, and Kate realized just how much she had missed that voice speaking those very words. She could only grin like an idiot.

Kevin pulled Kate in, his arms crushing her against his chest, and she hugged his waist as she felt his heartbeat against her ear.

“Missed you,” she said simply.

“Missed you, too, Kate,” Kevin said, his voice rumbling against her cheek. She pulled back to look up at him with a relieved sigh as he grinned at her.

And in that moment, she finally felt some of the contentment and peace she’d been searching for.

_____

Hours later, after the cookout lunch and the rehearsal dinner, when the attention-commanding nieces and nephews had long been put to bed, Kevin found Kate where he’d always found her on summer nights at the Cape — down at the boathouse, her feet dangling above the water, her short stature prohibiting them from actually being submerged.

“Fancy meetin’ you here,” he found himself saying — immediately followed by an internal monologue of, God, Kevin, why are you so fucking lame?

Despite his pathetic attempt at humor, Kate still smiled up at him.

“I knew you’d find me eventually,” she replied, letting her gaze drift back across the water.

Kevin hummed in response as he set down the pair of beers he’d brought and took a seat on the dock beside her.

“I’m surprised you’re not with the girls,” Kevin said. “They’re up there poppin’ bottles in the kitchen.”

She laughed softly at the thought. “Nah, just needed some time to think,” she told him.

Kevin nodded, knowing not to press any further if Kate wasn’t feeling forthcoming.

“Well, I come bearing beers,” he said, offering her one of the bottles.

With a grateful sigh, she murmured a “thank you,” and accepted the cold beverage. And that was just another item that fell somewhere in the middle of the long list of reasons why Kevin adored her — because she never needed champagne or an apple martini or a Mai Tai. A beer that matched his always suited her just fine.

Kevin was smiling at the thought, and when Kate caught him, he quickly saved face by lifting his bottle in the air.

“A toast,” he announced. “To Pat and Joelle.”

She nodded, lifting her beer toward his. “To Pat and Joelle,” she echoed, clinking the neck of her bottle against his. “Cheers.”

Kate took a long pull, looking back across the cape, and after a few silent moments, Kevin casually reached for her ankles and swept her legs atop his lap, his free hand resting on her shin. It certainly wasn’t anything unusual — anyone who knew Kate and Kevin and their relationship knew that they had always been affectionate with one another. (So much so, in fact, that on many occasions, Jimmy had muttered, “Jesus Christ, just fuck already.”) But it had been so long since he had initiated such a gesture that Kate would have been lying if she said her breath didn’t catch in her throat a little.

She sniffed and made work of picking at the label on her bottle, trying to act as cool and collected as possible.

“You look great, Katie,” Kevin eventually piped up, interrupting the silence and making Kate feel somehow more nervous and more at ease all at once. She tucked her chin to her chest with a breathy chuckle. “I mean it,” he added earnestly. “I should’ve said it before, but… anyway, just wanted to tell you now.”

She tilted her head up to look at him, and Kevin had to remind himself to breathe as she shot him her famous pursed-lipped smile, pushed to one side of her mouth.

“Thanks, Kev,” Kate said softly. “You do, too.”

“How’s work?” he asked, assuming that he’d be posing a simple, run-of-the-mill question, one that might lighten the mood and give his heart rate a chance to slow a bit.

But Kate snorted, lowering her bottle from her lips after a swig. “What work?” she asked cynically.

Kevin’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

She cleared her throat, turning to face the full moon instead of him. “The magazine shut down,” she finally admitted. “It’s been almost a month now, I guess.”

And for once in his life, Kevin was speechless.

Kate had started working for the small, independently-owned Pacific Northwest tourism magazine five years ago — the publication was the whole reason she’d moved to Seattle in the first place. She was so proud of her photography that was featured in each issue, and so was Kevin — though Kate didn’t know it, he had subscribed to the magazine after her first photo was featured in an issue early in her time on staff. And since the monthly magazines were mailed to his place in Philly and not in Dorchester, he realized that he would have had no way of knowing about the shutdown if it weren’t for Kate directly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Kevin asked gently, concern evident in his tone.

She shrugged. “Not something I really felt like talking about this weekend,” she replied, rubbing her hands along her upper arms to warm them from the cool ocean breeze. “Not necessarily something I was all that proud of.”

Kevin’s heart sank. “But it isn’t your fault, Kate,” he said, squeezing her calves. “You didn’t have any control over the magazine going under.”

She heaved a sigh. “I know, but…” she began, tipping her head back wearily, “it just feels like everything’s crashing down around me in Seattle. Half a dozen of my friends have moved away in the last year, my freelance clients are dwindling seemingly by the day because everybody and their mother think they can be their own photographer, and now the magazine’s gone. It just feels like I’m failing at everything, Kev. Failing at life.”

“Hey,” Kevin said firmly — immediately. He nudged her chin with his thumb so that she was looking straight at him, those sea blue eyes of his suddenly the only thing she could focus on, as all of her self-doubt was washed away, even before he continued to speak. “You are not failing. You’re 28 years old. This is just a part of growing up, Kate,” he assured. “This shit happens to everyone. Remember when I got shipped to Winnipeg and then to Philly so quick? I went through the same shit. I felt like nobody wanted me, like I couldn’t do anything right. But it got better. It always does, Katie. Especially for people with as good a heart as you.”

Kate sniffled, wiping at a lone stray tear with her knuckle.

“Thanks, Kev,” she said softly, followed by a few more quiet sniffles. “You’re the best. Reasons why I love you,” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Kevin’s brows lifted and his eyes widened as he looked at her, wondering if he’d just heard her correctly.

As with the physical touch, it had always been this way with Kate and Kevin when it came to their long-simmering feelings for one another. One of them would slip up and say some shit like “I love you” or “you’re so hot” or “come home with me,” and then try to play it off or walk it back, while the other person was left reeling, unsure of whether or not the other had truly meant what they’d said.

“I mean, you know, like I—”

“I love you, too, Kate,” Kevin said without hesitation, not walking anything back, interrupting Kate’s hopeless stuttering.

She glanced at him, taking a few chugging sips of her beer, and shook her head.

“No, you don’t,” she asserted flatly. “You’ve had a lot to drink. So have I. It’s a wedding weekend and we’re—”

“No, Kate,” Kevin insisted. “I mean it. I-I love you.”

And Kate suddenly felt really dizzy, like, really dizzy, and not because of the alcohol or the day she’d spent in the sweltering July sun. Dizzy like her best friend since diapers had just fully admitted that he love loved her in a manner far more sincere and more convincing than all those other times before.

“I… I gotta go to bed, Kev. Big day tomorrow,” Kate said abruptly. She drew a deep breath, swung her legs out from beneath Kevin’s hold, and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pushing herself up from the dock and heading for the steps. “‘Night.”

_____

“You did what?!” Jimmy asked on the golf course the next morning, coughing as he nearly choked, not because of his cigar smoke, but due to pure shock upon hearing his brother’s declaration.

“I told her I loved her,” Kevin said. “And she told me I was just drunk, and I told her I wasn’t, and then she went back to the house.”

“I think I need to lie down,” said Keith Yandle, Kate and Kevin’s mutual lifelong family friend, as he dramatically took a seat in the golf cart.

Jimmy stood slack-jawed in front of Kevin, waiting for more.

“And?!” he finally prompted.

Kevin shrugged. “And I haven’t talked to her all morning,” he said, earning groans from Jimmy, Keith, and Noel Acciari, another longtime member of the crew. “But I don’t regret it. And I’m bringing it up again tonight.”

“At her brother’s wedding? What, are you nuts?” Jimmy accused.

“No, that’s perfect,” Keith bellowed. “You know how girls get about weddings. All gooey and shit. Just get her a couple drinks at the reception. She’ll cop to loving your sorry ass, too. We all know she does. This has only been about three decades in the making.”

Kevin hated to admit it, but Keith was right, and he knew that Jimmy knew it, too, as Jimmy stood with his hands on his hips, sighing as he exhaled cigar smoke.

“Alright, fine,” Jimmy said, putting his hands up and rounding the golf cart to take the driver’s seat. “That’s not your worst idea ever, Yands. And you know what, Kev? I’m proud of ya. I wasn’t sure ya had it in ya.”

Kevin let out a singular chuckle and adjusted his golf hat.

“Neither was I.”

_____

“He said what?!” Kristen said loudly from the makeup chair as Kevin’s sister Justine squealed in the hair chair next to Kate’s.

“He told me he loved me,” Kate replied incredulously, still not convinced that last night was anything more than some fever dream. “Like, actually loved me. And I didn’t say it back. Because I’m an asshole.”

“No, you’re not,” Kristen assured firmly as Justine waved Kate off. “He caught you off guard, that’s all. You’ll have plenty of time this weekend to make it up to him,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.

Justine flung out an arm and squeezed Kate’s elbow.

“Wait, are you gonna say it back?” she asked in a sharp whisper.

Kate just pursed her lips, smiling crookedly.

_____

“Jesus fuck,” Kevin muttered as Kate walked into the narthex of the church to be lined up for the walk down the aisle. Noel elbowed him in the ribs.

“We’re in a church, bud,” Noel muttered. “You’re gonna get struck down, and I’m gonna be standing next to you when it happens.”

Kevin barely heard him as he watched Kate approach her brother, who let out a “wow” at her appearance and pulled her in for a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Wow was putting it lightly. Her hair was left long and curled, save for a few pieces pinned back from her face, and she donned an elegant, v-neck, pale blue bridesmaid dress that appeared to have been designed just for her. Her makeup, though simple, was flawless, accentuating her strong features, making her hazel eyes, in particular, impossible not to notice.

Kevin had never seen Kate look more stunning in all his life. And that was saying something.

Kate turned toward the groomsmen next, her eyes immediately locking with Kevin’s, despite Jimmy’s wolf whistle and Noel’s “damn, Katie.”

She shot them both an eyeroll before refocusing on Kevin.

“Hi,” she said dumbly.

“Hi,” Kevin repeated. “You look beautiful, Kate. Perfect.”

There was that pushed-to-one-side, pouted-lip smile that made Kevin’s pulse race.

“Thanks, Kev,” she replied. “You look really handsome.”

Kevin gave her a grateful smile, then took a step closer to her.

“Can we talk later?” he asked, softly enough that he hoped no one else could hear and then subsequently give him shit for asking such a middle school question. His breath against her ear sent shivers through Kate, and his low tone made her mouth go dry.

She nodded, looking up at him doe-eyed and unable to form a single word. He nodded, too, and before she knew it, he was reaching for her hand, brushing a soft kiss against the top of it, and giving it a quick squeeze.

Kate didn’t have a chance to overanalyze his actions because the wedding planner quickly marched through the group, announcing that Patrick and his groomsmen needed to make their way to the altar for the start of the ceremony. Kate stepped forward to pull her older brother in for one last hug and a few whispered sentiments, then she smiled shyly at Kevin, smoothing her hand over his lapel as she passed, unaware of the knowing smile that Jimmy and Kristen shared watching the two of them.

_____

Back at her parents’ house for the reception, Kate was well on her way to a hangover for her flight back to Seattle tomorrow. Naturally, she’d been seated next to Kevin at the head table, and though the two of them hadn’t yet found time for an actual conversation, they each knew it was coming, which only increased the number of trips they’d both already made to the open bar.

After the meal, Pat and Joelle were invited to the dance floor in the middle of the yard, beneath twinkling string lights and the glow of the moon, and the strains of “Marry Me” by Train came over the sound system, filling the salty air with the peaceful guitar melody.

Kate’s jaw dropped just slightly, but enough for Kevin to take notice.

“That asshole,” she whispered.

Kevin held back a laugh at her reaction to this significant, romantic moment in her brother’s life.

“What?” he asked quietly.

“This is my wedding song,” she told Kevin incredulously, putting her hand to her chest. “I’ve said that since I was, like, in middle school. He knows that.”

Kevin wasn’t sure if it was the drinks or how breathtaking Kate looked or the feelings he’d long been pushing down finally bubbling over, now that he had let his little confession slip last night, but he suddenly heard himself say, “We can use it, too. Nobody’ll remember by then.”

Kate stiffened in her chair and snapped her head toward him.

“What?” it was her turn to whisper.

“Oh, come on, Kate,” Kevin said, sipping his whiskey casually. “Let’s not kid ourselves. That’ll be us up there someday.”

And there was that goddamn smile of hers again — Kevin knew she was trying so hard not to pull a full-on, megawatt grin, which was fine by him because he was perfectly happy with this version. Preferred it, actually.

She cleared her throat and shook her head.

“Don’t hold your breath, Kev,” Kate replied lightheartedly. But her tone was… less than convincing, some might say. Even less convincing was the way she almost imperceptibly leaned closer toward Kevin, whose arm rested loosely around the back of her chair.

And at that, Kevin smiled into his glass.

_____

Somehow, even in the midst of her own brother’s lively wedding reception, Kate still found her way to the boathouse. Kevin hadn’t even bothered to look for her elsewhere — once he noticed that she’d disappeared from the dance floor, he grabbed two Boston Lagers from the bar and headed for the dock.

She smirked when she heard his footsteps.

“Want some company?” he asked on his way down the wooden steps.

“Only if it’s you,” she replied, the flirtation evident in her tone.

Kevin smiled, pleased with that answer, and took his familiar spot next to her.

“Nice day, huh?” he asked, again pulling her legs across his lap before nudging the second beer into her hand.

“Really was,” Kate replied, clinking her bottle against Kevin’s for yet another toast.

They sat wordlessly for a few minutes, staring out at the water, listening to the laughs and chatter and music from the party up in the yard.

Eventually, Kevin cleared his throat, drawing Kate’s attention.

“Listen, Kate, about last night,” he began, but Kate’s anxiety spurred her to interrupt.

“No, it’s okay, Kev,” she said, shaking her head quickly. “You don’t have to explain—”

“No, I do,” Kevin insisted. “I-I don’t know if you’re getting it.”

She frowned. “Getting what?”

Kevin opened his mouth, looking into her eyes, then closed it again with a humorless chuckle.

“I meant it,” he finally said. “I said I loved you. And I meant it.”

Kate couldn’t break from his gaze despite the flipping sensation in her stomach, and despite the warmth creeping up her neck. The intensity of his stare was foreign to her — she was so used to happy, joking, jovial Kev, who never took anything too seriously. Even his earlier comment about their supposed future wedding reception had been tinged with sarcasm.

There was no ounce of him that was kidding now. That much Kate could see.

“You’re perfect for me, Kate,” Kevin continued. “You always have been.”

She blinked, tucking her loose waves behind her ear.

“Kev, I—”

“Wait, wait,” he laughed to himself, shaking his head before taking a long pull from his beer. “Listen, you gotta let me finish, because it took me this long to get this far. Okay?”

She nodded. He took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on hers.

“I love you, Kate,” Kevin said. “I love you in the worst way. The most real way. Not just some fleeting, fling-type shit. I mean, I want it all with you. Everything. The whole fuckin’ thing. Ring, wedding, babies in little ‘13’ jerseys. Nice house, a dog. Picket fuckin’ fence. I want what our parents have. And our siblings. You’re the only person I wanna share that with. Ever.”

Kate was crying now, blissfully unfazed that her mascara tears might stain her pretty makeup. Though, they didn’t, because before they could, Kevin’s thumbs had wiped them away, and after rubbing his fingers together, he smoothed his thumbs along her cheekbones.

“And I’ve always known it,” he continued. “But it took you going away and coming back for me to work up the balls to say it.”

Kate hadn’t flinched this whole time, Kevin noticed. In fact, her eyes grew brighter and her soft smile a bit more noticeable with each word he had spoken. But she had yet to utter a word. He studied her in anticipation.

“You gotta say something, Katie girl,” he said nervously. “I’m dyin’ here.”

But there was little left for her to say, she realized, and so instead, she leaned in, cupped Kevin’s neatly-bearded cheeks in her hands, and kissed him like she had never kissed a single soul before. And Kevin kissed her back, his relief evident in his tender touch, in the way he exhaled softly against her mouth.

As soon as Kate pulled her lips from his, hers curled into a breathless smile, and she leaned her forehead against his.

“I love you, too, Kevin Hayes,” she whispered, her fingers combing through the hair at the back of his head. “I’ve loved you since forever.”

“Be with me,” Kevin blurted, as if he actually needed to. “Like, officially. I wanna do this with you.”

She nuzzled her nose against his and circled her arms around his neck.

“Oh, we’re doin’ this,” Kate told him, beaming. She pressed a kiss between his brows and whispered, “Can’t get rid of me now.”

_____

Three summers later, in her parents’ yard on the Cape, Kate twirled around the dance floor to “Marry Me” by Train with a tall, reddish-brown-haired, blue-eyed boy from Dorchester, the very one she had loved since she was a little girl, long before she even fully understood what love was.

But now, Kate knew exactly what love was, because she knew Kevin.

Her newly dubbed husband leaned down to speak softly into her ear as her song continued to play.

“Remember that night we finally got together, when Pat and Joelle had their first dance here?” Kevin asked. “And I told you, ‘someday it’ll be us up there,’ and you told me not to hold my breath?”

Kate hid her face in his chest and felt her face warm, chuckling bashfully. Her recoiling only caused Kevin to hold her tighter and press a kiss to the top of her head. His thumb and forefinger found her chin and angled her face toward his.

“I’m glad I held my breath, Katie girl,” he said, his voice low.

Kate nodded, her eyes damp with unfallen tears. “I’m glad you did, too, Kev,” she said.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 297: We’re Bustin’ Outta This Joint

Previously on BnHA: Horikoshi did his best to undo all of the good vibes from the Girl Power arc by killing off Midnight. It sucks and I still don’t like it, but it is what it is. Unfortunately, Not Killing Off Your One Female Teacher Character With Any Character Development was worth 30% of his grade for the semester, so it brought his average down all the way to a C-, and so he and his report card will just have to live with that. Meanwhile Ochako did some rescuing, and the other U.A. kids lay around unconscious and/or traumatized. The chapter ended with an abrupt cut to Tartarus, where AFO is apparently just chilling and waiting for the Nearly High Ends to come bust him free. What kind of a cliffhanger is that to leave your fans hanging on for three whole weeks. Who’s suffering more here, the characters or the readers.

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “okay I know you all want to know what happens to Deku and Shouto and the rest, but have you considered finding out what happens to Overhaul and Muscular and Moonfish and New Girl Character instead?” Fandom is all, “you had us at New Girl Character.” Seiji’s dad is all, “I’m just going to say a bunch of stuff to help make sure none of the readers feel conflicted about cheering on a bunch of mass murderers escaping from prison.” Tomura is all, “dammit AFO why are you still here.” AFO is all, “shhh, Tomura, go back to sleep.” Tomura is all, “wtf but you’re literally hijacking my body and continuing to shred it to bits while we break into BnHA Alcatraz to recruit your own personal Suicide Squad.” AFO is all, “:).” Real!AFO is all, “HERE I AM, EVERYONE, SORRY TO KEEP YOU WAITING.” And then the chapter ends. Geez.

oh shit lol it’s a whole big fucking page all about Tartarus

my very first thought was “that’s a long-ass fucking bridge”, and then I went to go google “longest bridges”, and Wikipedia was all “son there are literally a hundred and fifty bridges in the real world longer than 5km, and the longest one is actually 165km”, and I was all “oh shit I really don’t know jack shit about bridges.” then I looked at the list for a few more minutes and realized that the super-long bridges were all built over land, and that the longest bridge over water is only 38km. which is way more reasonable, but also still really fucking long though?? ngl I would freak the fuck out on that bridge. what does any of this have to do with Tartarus you ask?? absolutely nothing, I literally forgot I was reading a chapter for a sec lol uh

anyway, my parting thought on the bridge is that it kind of defeats the whole purpose of having a giant island fortress prison, but whatever. moving on

and the six levels thing is straight out of One Piece lol. something tells me BnHA’s prison break arc isn’t going to be quite as fun. hmm

so now we’re cutting to “the Bronze Gate”, which is the main entrance off of the bridge, and some goat-looking motherfucker is out here trying to become my new favorite character. bro

SON OF A BITCH WHAT’S WITH THE BULLETS FLYING IN THE BACKGROUND. DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE SHOOTING AT GYGES. THEY CAN’T KILL OFF MY FRESHEST HOMIE GYGES. SURELY THEY WOULDN’T

ooh and now, giant robots!

giant robots with machine guns. “I’m very sorry I killed off Midnight, makeste” you know what, fuck you Horikoshi. thinking you can buy my affections back so easily

does Gyges have six arms??? look how fucking calm he is announcing the code red security lockdown, holy shit. GYGES

NOOOO

NO NOT BRIAREUS. THIS DAY EXACTS A HEAVY TOLL

YO, WHAT

he came there himself?? so much for making the Noumus do his dirty work. and based on the speech bubble shape and font, this is still AFO talking

uh oh what’s happening

is he using Decay or is his arm just sort of crumbling to pieces because he hasn’t had time to heal up yet? if it’s the former this prison break is going to set a record for shortest arc yet isn’t it

now we’re cutting to B10 which is apparently the lowest level. but do they mean lowest as in the least security, or lowest as in the deepest underground, a.k.a. the most security? idk it’s confusing and I think they should be more specific. is it B like in basement?? are there six levels or ten?? stupid Tartarus

anyway so the guards are talking about how Gigantomachia is scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning. heh. will there even be a Tartarus tomorrow morning

(ETA: WELL, UH.)

wow they’re talking about just killing him outright. damn

I kinda feel like “prison guard” is one of those jobs that just sort of naturally attracts shitty people. anyways yeah, Seiji your dad is a real piece of work

and he’s even doubling down on it after the other guy repeatedly keeps trying to hush him up. dude we get it, you’re an asshole

ooh and now we’re getting an interesting look at the various prisoners, some of whom look suspiciously familiar!

for starters, that’s definitely Moonfish in the upper left corner, I’m like 99% sure. not quite clear who that is across from him in the upper right, but it’s been a hot minute since we saw Muscular, so maybe?

and could that be Overhaul in the panel beneath him?? they’re not showing his face so I assume it’s someone we’d recognize, and he’s the only currently-incarcerated villain with that haircut as far as I can recall. though it seems weird that he’s not restrained more given his quirk. I thought Horikoshi mentioned in Ultra Analysis that he’d gotten it back somehow. eh well we will wait for answers

I don’t recognize the person to his left either (though she has an oddly familiar look to her?). but the person on the bottom right, next to Kurogiri... is it Stain?? the hair and body language are sure giving off Stain vibes. if someone had told the me from two years ago that I’d actually be excited to see Stain again I would have said you were full of shit. and yet here we are. these sure are interesting times

anyway so now the Code Red intruder alarm is blaring. and I gotta say, that one scene sure was effective at killing any sympathy I might have been inclined to feel for these guards lol. bring on the imminent massacre

“what horrible timing” lol yes. it’s almost as if they planned it that way

uh oh

is he omae wa shindeiruing. watch your six, Mr. Prison Guard

oh shit

WHAT DID I SAY. WHAT DID I FUCKING SAY. but nooo, you all were all, “but a bridge is more convenient!” VERY WELL THEN, LIE IN THE BED THAT YOU HAVE MADE

anyway so it’s the High Ends lol. I mean we already knew it was them. let’s just get on with it

omfg Tomura ARE YOU RIDING ONE

WHAT ARE YOU, A NAZGUL. WHY IS THIS MY FAVORITE THING

and it looks like it actually is Tomura again, too (as opposed to AFOmura)

-- is he using Decay on himself?? is that what it is?? or no wait, is this just more of the weird side effect shit that’s been happening since he Awakened. actually yeah never mind that’s clearly what it is

y’all this man is out here having a full blown argument with himself

so this is equal parts compelling and hilarious to me right now lol. like I feel so bad for Tomura, but I also lowkey want to see how far this escalates. like do you think he’d go as far as to punch himself in the face. where will this journey lead us

fucking look at this shit

other people have already mentioned this, but with this scene especially it makes me really curious how they’re going to show this in the anime. will it be AFO’s voice coming out of Tomura’s mouth? or Tomura’s voice using AFO’s speech patterns? more importantly, will it be cool and dramatic, or will it actually wind up being hilarious? or both?? never count out both

also he’s looking pretty good there in that bottom panel with his one eye just barely visible. that doesn’t have anything to do with anything, but here I am, pointing it out

also also, lol at Tomura being all, “the fuck do you mean, ‘rest’, you’re the one that dragged my body out here to raid a fucking prison,” and AFO being all, “oh yeah, lol, true true, but I meant rest after that.” yes, this man clearly has nothing but the purest intentions, Tomura. trustworthy af

this fucking guy. Tomura is your bullshit radar finally operational yet?? can you see yet that it was always his intention to use you right from the very start?? oh man I am starting to get fidgety now listening to this

so Tomura’s saying he doesn’t just want to be used as a chess piece. and AFO is all, “well okay but what if it’s a VERY NICE AND IMPORTANT chess piece.” bro DID HE STUTTER

-- AHH BUT NEVER MIND THAT, HERE IT IS, THIS IS WHERE THE FUN STARTS OMG

GO ON AND ACQUIRE THEM THEN! omg. why am I so fucking excited. it seriously makes no sense. like seriously, ‘hooray, our old buddies, Overhaul and Stain!!’ -- come again now?? who is this person that I have become

meanwhile AFO is making all this fuss and I really don’t understand it though

why would you need to plow directly through the building. why can’t you just use doors like a normal person. it’s not like they can lock you out, like hello, you can literally turn anything you touch into dust, what’s with all the melodrama

anyway so he’s apparently hitting the prison with some sort of EMP attack now and shutting down all their systems

omg the suspense is killing me. this is going to be so badass once it’s animated, but right now all I keep thinking is “YES, GREAT, CAN WE PLEASE JUST MOVE IT ALONG”

the doors are opening ahhhhhhh come on come on come on let’s go let’s get to the excitement already

now the guards are running over to try and regain control. but, like

yeah that’s pretty much how I’m expecting the rest of this to go basically

so now they’re shooting at the dust cloud lol. well if there’s one thing movies have taught me, it’s that bad guys who wait inside clouds of dust while panicked cops blindly rain bullets at them until they run out of ammo are basically invincible lol. soooooo

OHHHHH SHIT

AHAHAHAHAHAHA. THEY ARE SO FUCKED LOL, SHIT

YEP, AND HERE’S ANOTHER ONE

is this the first time we’ve seen Moonfish’s face? I feel like we might have caught a glimpse of it before on an omake page or something. either way, it wasn’t anything I actually needed to see again. thanks...?? I guess??

okay but seriously, are we supposed to actually know who this badass lady is?? like I don’t know her but I feel like I know her, you feel?

(ETA: lol there are already like 60 different theories about how she’s related to every single character in the series. will be interesting to see if anything comes of this. although we did just get three “this villain was secretly related to [insert character(s) here] all along” reveals just in the last arc, so idk, it might be better if we pass on it this time lol.)

girl who are you. please stick around. for the love of god don’t let this man kill you off too

????

wait so is this Overhaul? boy sure has seen better days huh. but the floppy sleeves... yeah, it’s gotta be him

anyway so then the only ones missing are Stain and Kurogiri, yes?? omg. and one page left to go

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

NO ONE WILL BE ABLE TO CONVINCE ME HE COULDN’T HAVE DONE THIS SHIT RIGHT FROM THE VERY BEGINNING. FUCKING TIME-BIDING DRAMA QUEEN

AND HE’S JUST FLOATING HIS LIFE SUPPORT SYSTEM ALONG BEHIND HIM SOB. THIS FUCKING GUY

AND IS HE JUST ABSENTMINDEDLY DRAGGING SOME POOR SCHLUB’S CORPSE ALONG BESIDE HIM LIKE A SLEEPY TODDLER CARRYING THEIR TEDDY BEAR. I FUCKING CAN’T. REST IN PEACE, FRIEND. GIVE MY REGARDS TO GOOD OLD BRIAREUS

so that’s it! and we still don’t have any idea what AFO is actually planning to do now, after all of that. are they going to merge bodies?? or is he going to try to switch with him?? either way Tomura’s body has to be part of the plan somehow since he keeps making so much of a fuss over it. flkhglkhlk. dammit I need answers lol

[rimaiahwrites]

Red handed—

Chapter seven

After Erik drove away Israel came in to the house grinning even though he low key pissed her off.

She was still happy that she got to spend time with him, Erik was actually bringing happiness and excitement to her dull life and she couldn't be happier about it.

Israel walked right passed her brothers and into the kitchen, not even noticing all her brothers and their friends sitting in the living room looking at her like she lost her mind.

She grabbed a water bottle and began to chug it. Until she heard someone clear their throat. She turned around and started choking on the cold water. Noah got up from the floor and made his way over to pat her on the back.

When she got her choking under Control, she waved at them giving her best smile trying not to look suspicious.

"Who the fuck was that nigga you was wit'?" Her smile dropped.

"What are you talking about I-" Jay cut his eyes at her, daring her to lie to his face. Israel rolled her eyes trying to play it off. "He's Just one of my friends jay, relax."

"Since when do you have guy friends?" He asked walking into the kitchen. Everyone now quiet like he was some sort of king.

"Since when did I have to answer to you?" Israel spit back, looking him up and down. Jay was a bit taken back from her tone because it wasn't like her to get go smart mouth with him.

"Since you were born fuck you mean when? You forgetting that you the youngest?" He said cocking his head back like she just said the most stupidest shit ever. "no but You keep forgetting I'm grown. I can do as I please." She hissed slamming the freighter door shut. "I'm not no damn baby anymore, stop trying to tell me what I can and can't do I'm grown rather you like it or not, the fuck" she said stepping up to him as if he wasn't 6'0 and bulky grown man. not even realizing that she had raised her tone with him...or that she was cussing.

"Girl-" she quickly held her hand up to hush him. "No! I'm so done with this shit! Y'all three get to do whatever y'all want and y'all still live in mom and dads house and don't nobody say shit to y'all but when I hang out with someone of the opposite gender it's a problem? as if you did just sneak that girl In your room not to long ago, as if y'all wasn't fucking in there while mom was downstairs right under your room." She spit out dropping her head down a bit to give him a death stare. She was so irritated and had so much adrenaline running through her, she was shaking.

"You really can't say shit to me jay!" She said slapping her hand on the counter, and her other hand in her hip. Looking like a middle aged black mama yelling at her disobedient child while jay just stood there staring wildly at her but there wasn't much he could say. It was all true. She cut him up and now he was stuck not knowing what to say.

It was quiet in the living room and kitchen.

Jays friends didn't say a thing but they were fully entertained with the argument going on between the two Sibling.

"So what you just fucking random niggas now? Huh? That's where you was last night? At that niggas house being a hoe?" He shouted, veins popping out the side of his head. Israel face dropped at his words and they stung more then she thought they would.

You could hear a pin drop nobody made a move or spoke a word. Just a silent staring contest between the two. Jays fists balled, shoulders squared looking like he was ready to fight while Israel on the other hand was her eyes were getting glossy and her breathing heavy. She could feel the lump in her throat getting harder to swallow.

She cleared her throat and turn to walk back to get her bag by the front door. And heading up stairs, there was nothing else to be said. Israel now knew that her big brother saw her as nothing more then just a hoe, he has made it very clear today.

Israel waited until she was 18 just to talk to men and now he was calling her a hoe not even knowing that she only stayed for the night, And that was all. But there was no point in arguing with jay, he was stubborn and a asshole. if that's what he thought that's what he thought.

She shut her bedroom door and headed straight to her bed, stuffing her face in her pillow tears coming down like a waterfall.

She was Tempted to call Erik just so he could come get her of the hell hole she called home.

Maybe that was over dramatic but she hated it here, she loved her family but being with them 24/7 wasn't something she planned on doing once she turned eighteen. She honestly thought she would have been treated like her brothers were but then again she was never given a fraction of the freedom her brothers has. She was never treated like her feelings mattered, everything has always been about the boys.

You would think that since she's the only daughter her father has she would be treated like a princess and get away with everything but that definitely wasn't the case with her father. She was always the one to get yelled at first, she was always the first one to get blamed for something she didn't do and was always the first to get it the worst of her siblings.

Her father was a strict, mean military man that had no Sympathy for anyone and he clearly passed that down to his oldest son.

She was so sick of crying over them, she was so sick of being mistreated.

With tears still running down her face she sat up and took a deep breath feeling like she was dropping down into that deep hole she liked to hide herself in when she was feeling down.

His words replaying in her head like a broken record. She wasn't a hoe and she knew that and she knew that she didn't sleep with Erik but some how his words sank into her skin so deep that she felt dirty. Like she had committed some sort of sin.

She was only having fun, and finally getting the teenage experience she never got to have when she was younger.

Israel was tired of crying over things her family has said to her it was time for her to stop letting their words hurt her and effort her mental health.

She stood up from her bed and decided that she wanted to take a flower bath and just pray her troubles away.

-

Erik parked his black Mercedes-Benz G-Class outside of the were house he owned. This was the place he kept all of his weapons, books, important papers and information he had collected over the years of him being in college and the navy.

He and ten of his close friends that he met in the navy had formed a elite group of former navy seals. Their jobs were to Take down small governments and expose them. They also would kill small amounts of police officers and clans men which 9 times outta 10 were the same group of men.

About six months age they made a little mistake that almost got them caught which would've cost them their lives which is why they took a break to regroup to better themselves. Erik and three of his boys ace, zeik and Rae all trained the hardest they ever have far as fighting techniques, Brent, rocky and von all worked with weapons and the rest of the boys were hackers.

Today was their first meeting in six months. Erik has changed Plans and moved things from the original date so this meeting is important.

Erik walked to the side door of the warehouse and slide up the side  paneling to reveal the handprint scanner, that was the only way to get into it up less you climb to the very top and through the window but the chances of that happening was slim. Once he was into he went to the corner of the large warehouse and behind the staircase that lead you to go upstairs which was empty.

He walked into the staircase little door where there was a another door that used Voice activation to open. "State your name please." a robotic voice said as it Scanned his face. "Erik Stevens."

"Face scan complete, welcome back erik." The voice said as the heavy Metal door opened to Reveal his underground lab.  "Feels good to be back." Erik Chuckled as he walked down the steps. All of his boys turned their heads from the game of pool to Erik. "Ayo Erik where you been at motherfucka you was supposed to be here a hour and a half ago." Erik grin as he dubed ace up ignoring zeik interrogation. "Right and you be the main one mad if Someone else late to the meetings." Rae butted in.

Erik rolled his eyes.

"If y'all don't shut the fuck up, I gotta life to I just got caught up." He shrugged them off as he walked over to his desk. Rae eyebrows raised as he looked at the rest of them and they all were just as confused as him. Erik and "personal" just didn't go together in the same sentence, if he wasn't working out he was working. Erik was always work, work, work.

Brent smirked as he grabbed his water  bottle and took a sip "him must got a new bitch or sum'" ace snorted "nigga yeah right that nigga ain't been in a relationship in years, Erik fucks and dips." It was true. That just wasn't like Erik.

"All I hear is you motherfuckas being worried about me let's get to work!" Erik clap his hands exactly as he went into the meeting room with the rest of the men following.

-

After a four hour meeting they had finally figured everything out. It was now 10:46 and Erik was tired, Israel sleeping over had him exhausted since it fucked up his sleep schedule. On a normal day Erik was in bed 11 o'clock and up at 6 o'clock in the morning. Sleep was very important to a healthy life style. It was Proven that people that get at least 7 hours of sleep they live longer.

Soon as Erik got home he took a shower and got straight in bed. he didn't even bother putting on clothes.

It's almost been a week since Erik has last spoken to Israel since he had been so busy. It's been strictly wake up, eat, work, train and work some more he didn't really have time to hang or call.

He felt a little bad for it but he knew that she knew he wasn't ignoring her intentionally...at least he hoped she knew that.

Today Erik was going to the gun range with ace just to do some training and catch up with him since they really hasn't had the chance to do that.

Since ace's car was in the shop right now so erik decided to pick him up instead of him catching a Uber. Soon as erik pulled up to aces Apartment he saw he step out of his door and jogged over to the passenger side.

"Wassup E," he said as he sat his bag down in the back seat. "Wassup bro you ready to show these niggas how to aim?" Erik said jokily as he drove off.

Erik cooked his AMT and aimed it at the head of the paper man all the way in the range and let multiple bullets fly from it giving him a slight rush. He adjusted his safety glasses and gripped the handle of the gun again before pulling the trigger but aiming at a different figure. Him and ace were both in their own little worlds before the ringtone from Erik's phone pulled him back down to earth, it caught aces attention too.

It was Israel.

Erik beamed down at the screen but Debated if he should answer it or not, he wanted to he really did but decided it would be best if he called her later since he could barely hear from all the gun shots being fired.

"Who was that? Got you smiling and shit..." ace asked with his eyebrows raised. Placing his gun down to face Erik. "Nigga why you so damn nosy?" Erik cut his eyes at him while blindly putting his phone back into his pocket.

"What you mean nigga? I'm just trying to see who making my dawg so happy is that a crime?" He said jokingly jerking his head back. Erik rolled his eyes.

"It's was one of my friends." Erik stated before grabbing his gun again trying to get off the topic. Ace put his hand out and pushed the gun down before he could pull the trigger.

"What friend? cause the last time i checked we had the same circle of friends?" Erik sigh getting annoyed with aces interrogation. Did he want to tell his best friend about Israel? Hell nah. Because he know his best friend and he knows he's going to go over bored and start doing the most with questions.

"You don't know her. Drop it nigga."

"Her? So you got a bitch or sumn'" Erik shock his head not even meaning to slip up and say anything. It was to late to take back now. "Nah she not my girl, we just been chilling." Erik shrugged, as he corrected him.

"Lemme see what she look like nigga how you know I don't know her?"

"Hell nah nigga stop being nosy-"

"Ok but if I had a bitch I would show you-"

"She not a bitch tho." Erik said sternly in their back and forth bickering. As annoyed as Erik was ace had a point and they both knew it. Ace talked to him about everything and if he was interested in a girl Erik would be the first to know about it. Erik put his gun on safety and sat it down before digging In his back pocket to grab his phone.

He scrolled through his camera until he found his favorite picture of Israel. It was one she sent to him not to long ago, her hair was wild with tiny ringlet coils. Her lips and mouth were stained red from the dumdum that hung from it. She had her white silk night gown on and a dainty rose flower necklace that hung between her collarbone.

Erik handed him the phone and watched as he brought his fist up to his mouth. "Nigga she fine as fuck damn where you find her at?"

"A party I went to not to long ago, she was shy as fuck she would barely talk to me." Erik chuckled taking his phone back to put it back in his pocket. "We been hanging out the last few weeks, she cool." Erik said nonchalantly to make it seem like he wasn't feeling shordy as much as he was. To someone like didn't know Erik as well as ace did he would've them really thinking he didn't like her and it wasn't a big deal but ace knew.

"You feeling her?" Ace asked facing Erik now, Erik shrugged.

"Like I said she cool."

"Mm." Was all ace said. Erik didn't need to answer, ace already knew the answer.

[possum-rat]

(Y/n) talks to the dead

Previous 

Next

Normally waking up to the Undead hovering over you would scare anyone shitless. But (Y/n) was slightly less startled. "SHI-WHA? WHO ARE? WHAT?" (Y/n) yelps as they fall out of the bed in a mess of blanket and clothes. Two skeletons stand on either side of their bed staring blankly at the opposite wall. Chain mail armor on the one stationed on the left side of (Y/n), and an odd mixture of gold and neitherite on the right. The one on the right turns toward (Y/n) before crouching down as holding out a hand toward them.

(Y/n) takes it hesitantly staring up at them. "Wha?" They murmur as the skeleton nods a slight smile in place. "I'm Violetta Beaux. If that's what you're wondering my dear." They state simply in a soft tone. Violetta then gestures toward the chain mail wearer and says fondly "that's Isidora Blanc" Isidora merely nods as their mentioned.

"Why are you here? I mean- I don't mean to be rude or anything but..." (y/n) trails off confusion evident in their expression. "Clementine told us," Violetta replies gently. Nodding still confused (Y/n) lets the covers fall from their shoulders. Stepping from the mess of blanket under them they walk toward the bathroom.

--

Staring at the mirror intently they sigh. Their once (S/c) now more grey and sunken. Dark purplish rings under their eyes with a crazed look. Reaching their hand up (Y/n) gently presses the purplish-pink swollen delicate skin. Breathing out in pain (Y/n) removes their hand before testing their nose. Nothing seems to be broken, just a little swollen or painful. Pulling out a washcloth (y/n) dampens it and cleans the dried blood from their face.

Feeling slightly better (Y/n) turns on the shower before heading into their 'Room' and grabbing some clothes: a tan trench coat stopping at (Y/n) thighs, a white collared shirt, grayish-black jeans, and long socks with their favorite boots. (perfect for kicking any super straights)

Once finished with the shower they pull on the clothes in the privacy of the bathroom. Mentally (Y/n) thanks themselves for placing the bathroom into a room with a door away from any visitors. As (Y/n) steps out of the bathroom the smell of freshly baked bread greets them.

grinning to themselves (Y/n) notices that Violetta is beside the furnace pulling out a loaf of golden bread. "(Y/n)? Oh hey dear! I made bread. Here take some!" She says cheerfully as she places the loaf on the small kitchen island. Isidora seems to be slightly more emotional than before as she gazes at the bread. Staring at the bread (Y/n) asks "You can make bread?" Isidora replies gruffly "Best at it. She also makes a killer cake."

As Violetta pulls out a giant Long sword she hums happily as she slices the bread with the sword. The whole sight is comical. As (Y/n) takes a slice of the bread they take a bite and proceeds to melt. You know the kind? Like when you eat something so good you've literally just ascended to heaven momentarily-yeah that's what the bread tastes like.

"Told you," Isidora says simply. By the time (Y/n) ate around half the loaf with the other two they've gotten a message from Wilbur.

<WilburSoot> (Y/n) help. Tubbo and Tommy are on a tangent.

smiling slightly (Y/n) stands up from the chair and makes their way toward their chest. Squatting down they pull out their sword and a few potions. Violetta stops (Y/n) before they leave. "Dear take some armor I have an extra unused she's plate and helmet. Stay safe okay hun? Isidora will go with you." (Y/n) nods and waits patiently-well as patiently as one with horrible attention spans can-

"and here you go, hun." She says as she hands an enchanted netherite chest plate and helmet to them. (Y/n's) eyes widen as the heavily enchanted armor falls into their ownership. "You can't-Are-wha-" they stutter as Isidora takes the armor from (Y/n) and gently places it onto (y/n) making sure it fits snugly. "Come on kid. I'm your bodyguard or some shit today. Come on."

---

as the two of them walk into L'manberg Wilbur freezes staring at Isidora. "(Y/n)? Your aware that there's a skeleton standing beside you?" (Y/n) nods and says "Yup. They're my grumpy bodyguard or something!" Isidora did not like being called grumpy apparently as (Y/n) yelps as Isidora punches (Y/n's) shoulder.

"I- uh okay. Anyway, Tubbo and Tommy are over there mind watching them?" Wilbur asks tiredly as he rubs the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

(Y/n) nods and skips toward them happily. "No, He's always like...Psst hey, kid...wanna buy some content? Do we have manhunts? Or speed runs." Tommy laughs as he does a horrible American accent. (Y/n) chimes in "įⱮ Ⱥ ꝈįͲͲꝈƐ φįϚϚ βȺβӋӋӋӋӋ" Tubbo coughs in audio tune before dying with laughter. Tommy does his famous cackle. "What the actual fuck?" Isidora murmurs as she stands a few feet away. Tubbo frowns tilting his head confused his long brown ears flopping down.

"what? I just heard a series of tapping?" Tubbo says confused. "Oh, she just said " what the actual fuck." She's nice that way." (Y/n) says happily.

Isidora frowns while flipping (Y/n) off. "Yeah Love you too bitch." They call grinning.

Tubbo frowns and asks "Wanna go to the nether?" (Y/n) nods but freezes momentarily as everything suddenly grey. Like a cave. But instead of the normal ruggedness of a cave, it's like a box. (Y/n) shivers as they gaze around at the freezing room. A small Fox is curled up in one of the corners along with a brown spotted cow. As (y/n) walks closer the Fox opens an eye before closing it in disinterested. An arrow sticks out from its coat staining the white fur on its throat rusty red.

"Fungi?" (Y/n) asks in awe. The Fox yawns before nuzzling closer to the cow. The cow opens its down brown eyes before giving a soft content "Moo." Gasping in delight (Y/n) cheers "Harold?" The cow thumps his tail before standing up unsteadily and clopping toward (Y/n).

Harold bobs his head as he moves toward them, stopping infront of them he nuzzles into (Y/n's) outstretched hand. As (y/n's) fingers brush over the slightly rough texture of Harold's fur they blink.

The stone claustrophobic-inducing box is no more. Instead (Y/n) is surrounded by people in chairs staring up at a podium. A Man with curly Horns with various golden trinkets stands there. He's clearly slightly hungover.

"That was pretty easy. And you know what I said, the day I got unbanned from the DreamSMP, and the day I said I was running... an election that I won by the way?" The man's voice booms deep and clear demanding to be heard "I said; "Things are gonna change". I looked every citizen of L'Manberg in the eyes and I said; "You listen to me... this place will be a lot different tomorrow." Let's start making it happen. My first decree, as the president of L'Manberg- the EMPEROR! of this great country-! Is to REVOKE the citizenship of WilburSoot, (Y/n) and TommyInnit! Get 'em outta here! Get 'em outta here! You're no longer welcome!"

All though (Y/n) may not understand what's going on they have enough sense to stand up from their seat and bolt. Isidora stands on the outskirts of L'manberg waiting under the shelter of a tree. Isidora straightens up upon seeing (Y/n). She sighs and holds out a hand. Voices of the deceased begin screaming in (Y/n's) head.

"WHY THE HELL ARE YOU LEAVING?

"HELP THEM"

"STAY HOME"

"STAY"

"run"

As Isidora's hand closes around (Y/n's) they're suddenly wrenched from L'manberg, and back home. (Y/n) pulls their hand from Isidora's grip to press their palms into the sides of their head. "Please- make it stop." They whisper. Their eyes claimed shut as they press their back against the wall sliding down. Schlatt's voice echos loudly "Oh, it was so easy! Until further notice... WilburSoot and TommyInnit are merely a memory of L'Manberg. A relic- A relic of the past. A reminder, of the darkest era this country, has ever seen- and I guarantee you all; dear citizens... Tonight, that changes. We are entering into a new period of L'Mangerg- a period, of prosperity! of strength! of unity."

Sitting down for a few minutes they stand up before rubbing their eyes and turning toward the two women and saying quietly "Stay here. Please I don't want either of you to get hurt." they state with a certain authority that none of the three knew (Y/n) possessed. (Y/n) then walks toward their chests before digging out the materials needed. Choosing to take their half-finished crossbow, and sword, along with the armor they were currently wearing, a few potions, and pick along with food, as they walk toward the door they hesitate before returning to the chest and pull out a few End pearls along with their totem.

----

At around 3 am (Y/n) finds a half-assed base. Sighing slightly they duck into the base holding up their hands in surrender as a sword is healed to their throat. It doesn't help that the voices are still shouting. And expressing their distaste or agreement at the current predicament.

"Jesus (Y/n) where the hell have you been?" Wilbur sighs as he makes eye contact with them.

"Went by my base to grab some stuff we'll need. No, we aren't going to my base." They say as they sit atop the crafting table beside Tommy. Leaning back against the wall they glance down at Tommy. He's visibly distressed. (Y/n) taps the air infront of them withdrawing a potion of their own creation they like to call "Anti-Insomnia, sleep your problems away :)"

Pulling out a small vile of it they grab 2 cups that for some reason Wilbur had. Pouring a few drops into the cups they hand them to each of their accomplices saying "It'll help you sleep. It'll take your mind off of it." Tommy nods and asks "Wait you know Greek mythology right? Didn't you and Techno talk about it?" (Y/n's) lips curve into a faint smile at the memories.

they nod and ask "Yeah. I remember that." Wilbur asks "what's your favorite story?"

they nod before thinking. "Eros and Psyche." The words fall from their lips effortlessly. As (Y/n) begins to ramble they stare at the opposite wall.

"Psyche is a princess so beautiful that the goddess Venus becomes jealous. In revenge, she instructs her son Cupid to make her fall in love with a hideous monster; but instead, he falls in love with her himself." Tommy's head lolls before falling against (Y/n's) shoulder. (Y/n) tenses up slightly but upon realizing that it's only Tommy they continue.

"He becomes her unseen husband, visiting her only at night. Psyche disobeys his orders not to attempt to look at him, and in doing so she loses him. In her search for him, she undertakes a series of cruel and difficult tasks set by Venus in the hope of winning him back. Cupid can eventually no longer bear to witness her suffering or to be apart from her and pleads their cause to the gods. Psyche becomes an immortal and the lovers are married in heaven."(More info: here ) (Y/n) finishes their story glancing down at Thomas.

"hey? (Y/n)? How's Lilith doing?" Wilbur asks quietly. (y/n) freezes before rubbing their face and rubbing the faint scar on their neck. "No clue." Wilbur frowns and asks "What'd you mean?" He asks as he shifts to a more comfortable position. "Haven't seen her since she broke our engagement...rather brutally for my taste. Like I understand sure, I may not be the best person but burning down a house then murdering your fiancé? That's a bit much even for me. Like where's the pizzazz?" (Y/n) laughs quietly as they stand up and pull off their coat draping it over Tommy.

Wilbur frowns. "Wait. You only have one life?" He asks. (Y/n) nods as they rummage in their pocket before pulling out a small simple ring with a frog upon the center. Slipping it onto their finger with the other array of various rings they stretch and turn toward Wilbur. "Jesus Christ (Y/n). You need to be careful!" Wilbur chides. (Y/n) narrows their eyes at him before grumbling quietly "yeah yeah."

---

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct Chapter Nine

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 6500

Warnings: Language as always, warning of racist language (Nush talking about her mother's experiences), yearning, fluff to second base (yes, my darlings- IT IS ON!), alcohol is mentioned, food, anxiety attacks.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something. This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit!

People often think artists

Create with their hands

But really they create

with their hearts

So please be gentle

For we wear our vulnerability

On our sleeves

And freely give all we have

Hoping someone will fall

In love with the parts we offer

R. Evelyn

Chapter Nine

The sharp buzz of the door startles you out of your daydream. Laden with roughly the entire contents of your spice cupboard, vegetables, meat and prawns, your hands are crisscrossed with creases from where the weight of the totes has gouged at your skin. A smart-looking kindly gentleman greets you, “You must be Ms Pierce. Mr Pike has asked for you to wait here for him.”

Wow! Marcus’ place has a concierge - who did he have to blow to get a place like this?!

Throwing the bags onto one of the hotel lounge-like chairs, you slump into another as you rub soreness from your hands. A small ping tells you that the lift has arrived - you look over in the direction of the noise, a tremor of excitement rippling through you. An adorably scruffy Marcus, wearing old jeans and a t-shirt, steps out - his face utterly beaming on seeing you. “Hey! How are you doing?” he leans in to kiss your cheek twice - hang on, when did this start being a thing?

“Why didn’t you let me pick you up? You’ve carried so much over- lemme see your hands,” his brow knits on seeing the rapidly reddening welts as he takes your hands in his, brushing his thumbs gently across your palms.

“You live four roads away from me - they’re not that bad! And anyway, you can help me now- which floor do you live on?” You outwardly roll your eyes at the sweetness Marcus shows you, secretly enjoying the stroke of his fingers and the ghostly press of his lips still burning a hole in your cheek.

Marcus takes all of the bags from the chair, refusing point blank to entertain you helping him to take them upstairs - you watch as his arms twitch under the weight, enjoying the mixture of confusion and shock at your strength across his face, “you carried all of this?”

Nodding at him, you try to take a bag again, but he dangles it just out of reach, “Watch it - you do realise that I have two other brothers apart from Ads? I will think nothing of rugby tackling you to the floor and pinning you down,” you warn, enjoying the flush brought to his cheeks.

“You’ll be the death of me,” Marcus flusters as he calls the lift, handing you the smallest, lightest bag.

✪✪✪✪✪

Exiting at the top floor, you’re taken aback by the amount of light and quiet that washes throughout the building. Feeling so removed from the shadows cast from the tower blocks and the hustle and bustle of the streets below, the broad daylight offers a sense of serenity, a peace that invites itself into the soul and makes itself at home. As Marcus unlocks the door to his flat, you kick off your shoes at the entrance, “You don’t have to do that,” he offers through the keys in his mouth, holding the door open with his elbow, still refusing any help from you.

“Oh believe me, if I didn’t, my mum’s radar would go off and I would be cruising for a bruising,” you giggle, taking in the glorious spaciousness of his apartment, “I promise my feet aren’t too stinky and that I put on clean socks.”

“Whatever makes you comfortable,” Marcus’ eyes crinkle at you, “Can I get you something to drink or eat?”

“A coffee would be ace - strong and black please,” you reply, your gaze drinking in the details of his home. Books line the shelves along one wall - such a mixture of titles ranging from airport bestsellers to obscure art catalogues - the relief to see actual paper and hardbacks adorning the shelves rather than trinkets and plants when so many keep their books electronically in their pockets.

A couple of large canvases lie propped against another - long hours preventing them from being hung - their bright colours sure to bring joyful hues to quite a stark room. There are a few photo frames dotted around - mostly pictures of a moment in time rather than poses - of people you assume are friends and family from back in the States. Handing you a steaming mug, Marcus looks over your shoulder as you look at a photo of an older couple dancing and laughing at a wedding, “That’s my mamá and papá at my oldest sister’s wedding. It was such a magical day - just so much love in the air.”

“You can feel the joy radiating from them,” you offer, lowering your gaze from him to grab the frame next to the picture of his parents, “Are these your sisters or cousins? You all look very alike.”

“Yeah, my little sisters,” he grins proudly. “This one is Beth - she’s two years younger and is a paediatrician in Texas. Has two kids with her wife, Sophie. And this one is Cat - she’s doing her own thing out on the West Coast as a musician. They definitely inherited all the clever and cool genes.”

“Hah! You’re kinder to your sisters than I am to my brothers,” you grin, “They’re all total idiots but due to some weird genetic and biological insistence, I still love them.”

Taking a gulp of your coffee, you turn back towards him, “Come on you, we’d better get to work if you want a curry this evening.”

He pouts, looking more like a sulky little boy than a middle aged man. You can’t help but laugh at the sad puppy dog eyes he is conjuring at the thought of work, “Oh poppet, what’s wrong?” you teasingly mock.

“I kinda hoped you were a magician who could just magic a curry outta nowhere so we could watch films til the others arrive,” Marcus grumps shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Well, there is UberEats for that but you horrible lot put me up to this so you’re going to help,” you wag your finger at him, “But as you’re the only one here, you get the honour of being the chief taster,” you add, tapping him playfully on the nose.

With a soft huff and a furrow of the brow, Marcus guides you into the kitchen where, whilst he was making your coffee, he has helpfully already put all the fresh produce in his fridge as the sides are delightfully blank apart from the bags of spices.

“What are we making today, Chef?”

“Ok, meat dishes are a spiced yoghurt leg of lamb, a keema - don’t you give me that look, a cardamom butter chicken, and, a prawn and courgette curry,” you turn to Marcus’ fridge to find the lamb, “Needs to come to room temperature before we cook it.”

“My tummy is rumbling already,” Marcus adds, his eyes glinting excitedly as he licks along his lower lip, the skin glistening damply. You have never quite figured out whether your love of his lips is due to their fullness or the association with the kindness of his words.

“Hah- you’re not getting away without having some veggies, too, mister,” you cluck as you hand him a bag of onions and several bulbs of garlic to skin, chop and crush for the various dishes.

“Ok, Moooom,” Marcus dramatically rolls his eyes at your dictate, “I admit, I’d rather eat sugary or salty things over green stuff but I can make an exception for curried veg.”

The arch of your eyebrow virtually reaches your hairline at him teasingly calling you mom, so you reach for the towel, twist it and flick him hard on what you’d hoped would be his hip but catch him square on his arse instead.

A yelp of pain and wide eyes greet your action, “Did you just…? Oh, it is on.! You might think you’re tough from your brothers but my sisters taught me sneaky tactics.”

“Come at me, bro!” you taunt from the other side of the kitchen, putting up a boxing stance.

Brandishing the hand without the paring knife in your general direction, he answers, “Nope, gonna use the element of surprise and attack when you least expect it!”

Tutting your tongue at Marcus’ weak ass response, you grab the spices you need to prepare under the power of your pestle and mortar. With the waft of roasting cumin soaring through the air and your battle with your boss at a supposedly declared ceasefire, everything starts to feel comfortable and easy again. You could be six years old and standing on the chair next to your mum, watching like a hawk as she lovingly prepared meals for your family with an ever burgeoning belly. It was then, during those hours shared in the galley kitchen that became your time with her when normally it felt pretty split between her work as a GP and your brothers.

What the fuck… You jump out of your skin when a warm, solid wall presses you out of your nostalgic reverie, “Hah! Pinned ya! Sneaky tactics- told ya they worked,” a deep, soft voice whispers in your ear.

Your heart flutters like a bird trying to escape its rib cage with the closeness of Marcus, the heat rising through your body from your proximity to him - a visceral response to the glorious cocktail of masculine smell from his aftershave and body wash.

What do I do next?

Why can’t I bloody think straight?

Wiggling yourself around so that you face him, his face now so close that you can feel his warm breath upon your cheeks. Your eyes playfully catch the steady gaze of Marcus’ deep soulful pools. It would only take the smallest of movements to reach forwards and kiss him right on that stupidly gorgeous, plush Cupid’s bow and crease. But… what if he doesn’t want that? He’s my fucking boss - that would be a stellar move to make…

Instead of the tiny incline forwards to press your lips against his as every inch of you screams to do so, you drop to the floor and crawl out from between his legs, “Not pinned well enough it seems,” you tease haltingly as your tongue sticks in your dry throat.

As you check the browning of the cumin seeds, out of the corner of your eye you see Marcus’ head drop sadly, hearing a small sigh - his hands still upon the work surface and feet not having moved from the position he had pinned you in moments earlier.

Did he want to...? No, surely not.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that, Nush,” Marcus humbly apologises, pushing himself off the side, “I hope that I haven’t made things awkward.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” you softly say, pouring the roasted cumin into the mortar, ready to be ground, “I was the one who flicked you on your arse - I am the one who should be apologising.”

You beckon gently to Marcus, who has now taken refuge in the furthest corner of the kitchen from you - wringing his hands instead of chopping the onions, “Come over here - I want you to experience one of my most favourite smells of childhood. These are roasted cumin seeds and when you grind them, they release the most heavenly scent.”

After a few grinds, you offer the bowl towards Marcus’ face as he closes the gap between you, “I… Wow! I wouldn’t have thought it would make such a difference but it’s almost like you’ve entirely transformed it. See,” the dimple deepens in that right cheek of his, “you are a magician.”

“I love how spices - a bit like paint - can take on completely different characters depending on how you treat them. Leave the spice whole and you have this mild and fragrant taste. If you crush them, then their attitude comes back tenfold with a vengeance. Toast them, and they may as well be Clark Kent in a phone booth.”

Looking up you see Marcus gazing at you with a sweet half smile on his face - could he like me… like that?

“Sorry, you don’t need to hear me blathering on,” you fluster, waving your hand in a dismissive gesture as the heat rises through your face.

Shaking his head gently without dropping your regard, “No. No, please don’t ever stop. Your passion for things is beautiful.”

“Growing up, I didn’t realise that other people didn’t have whole cupboards filled to the brim with herbs, spices and seasonings. I mean, for all the damage the British Empire reeked, you’d have hoped that the spices would have entered more of their culture, but no! Apparently, my family was the weird one for having food with a flavour,” you shrug your shoulders at some of the ridiculous things you’d heard as a child - accusations of differences you’d never thought to be of note.

Marcus chuckles at your indignance, “It’s funny you should say that. I didn’t realise that my mamá had an accent until it was pointed out to me when I was a kid.”

Noting your slightly confused expression, Marcus explains, “She’s Argentinian- came to the States as a political refugee as she was a journalist following the disappearances during the Dirty War. Met my dad, and I came along very soon after, and the rest is history..”

You can’t help but laugh at the flush on Marcus’ cheeks as he recounts his personal history to you, “Love can’t be held back when it hits and it’s obvious that they’re still crazy about each other now from that photo.”

“Exactly, no point in wasting time when you know what you want,” Marcus grins, looking at his feet.

“My parents have a similar story. My dad is as English as they come - I mean we’re on a freaking island so there’s no true thing as being completely English. My mum is from Pakistan - Karachi - it’s in the South.”

“She came over due to the fighting between East and West Pakistan - the two countries that are now Pakistan and Bangladesh. It kept interrupting her studies to become a doctor so she came to England and restarted her degree here.”

Marcus’ brow creases in thought, “Why did she restart her degree? Could the credits not just be transferred to the college she moved to in the UK?”

“Hah- yeah. It was the seventies, during a time where all Southern Asians were P*kis - no matter where they were from on the Indian subcontinent- and thought of as dirty, lesser beings. There were constant race riots for anyone who wasn’t ethnically white or English. She would never have been taken seriously with her mediocre medical training from some Adobe hut in the middle of a jungle,” you fume, pounding the seeds into fragments. The mortar being threatened with the same fate too.

Marcus’ fingers wrap around your wrist to try and prevent your rage at the ignorance of others from causing you an injury, “I am so sorry,” he pulls you into a warm, tender hug, tucking your head under his chin, “How long before food can take care of itself so we can put a film on? I think we both need a rest.”

“Hmmm, ten minutes and then most things can simmer or be switched off ready for a reheat or proper cook this evening,” you say, leaning reluctantly out of his comforting arms to go check on the bubbling saucepans of food.

“‘K. I’ll go get things set up so you can flop for a bit,” Marcus touches you gently on your shoulder as he goes to set up the front room. You go to squeeze his hand but it’s removed from your shoulder too quickly for your response.

✪✪✪✪✪

“You ready?” Marcus calls through the wall as you turn off the heat from the final pans.

“Mhm,” you mumble in response to his question - double, triple checking that everything is off. Too many fire alarms ruining perfectly lovely meals or moments.

“What did you pick?” You ask, curling up on the other end of the sofa to Marcus, “Do you have no cushions?”

“Shit, no -I’m a guy, what can I say? - lemme grab the pillows from the bed,” Marcus jumps up, calling through from his bedroom, “Bet you have loads on your couch.”

“A fuckload, but, mainly to hide the fact the springs have gone. It’s like a precarious balancing act of comfort on there,” you surreptitiously sniff the pillow, inhaling the smell of Marcus’ shampoo, “Did you give me your pillow?”

A confused look is shot at you from the other end of the sofa, “Whaddya mean?”

“Smells of your hair,” you say as you squish it into the perfect comfy shape, “Like a mixture of lemon and eucalyptus.”

“That’s a sharp nose you’ve got. I gave you the other side though,” Marcus huffs through a chuckles he shakes his head at your somewhat strange comment, “Guess I’ve been sleeping across both sides then.”

“Best thing about sleeping alone- getting to starfish across the bed. Unless of course…”

Marcus can’t help but laugh at your awkward dig to find out whether he’d brought home the goddess from Friday’s antics, “So you wanna know if I brought home Kemi?”

“She was very beautiful. You’d have been mad not to,” you try to school your expression as best you can, keeping your eyes glued to Bing Crosby and Grace Kelly singing about true love, desperate to hide the jealousy coursing through your veins.

“Must be mad then. Didn’t even kiss her,” Marcus honestly answers whilst copying your tactic of staring at the tv, “She could see that there was someone else I liked so it would have been cruel to have done anything.”

You mull this over in silence, trying not to speak, to ask a million questions.

“Nush.”

“Mhm?”

“Can I talk to y…”

You both jump as an alarm goes off on your phone to remind you to turn the lamb down in the oven.

“Oh shit. Hold that thought,” you jump up from the sofa, heading in the direction of the kitchen with zero thought of what the man at the end of the sofa is desperately trying to tell you. Fiddling with Marcus’ ridiculously swanky oven until it looks like it is doing what you want it to do, you walk back in with two ice cold beers from his fridge.

“Raided your fridge,” you cheekily grin, holding one out to Marcus, the condensation running, down your fingers, “Hope you don’t mind!”

“Good thinking, Batman,” Marcus nods in appreciation, “Any more alarms set to scare us both?”

“Only due to go off when the film is done, so…” you yawn widely, “We’ve got a while yet.”

Marcus’ hand that was slung over the back of the sofa, lifts to stroke your shoulder, “You sleepy? C'mere, you.” With a soft tug of your t-shirt sleeve, he pulls you into his side - your willingness to sink into his broad chest very apparent. Your ear is pressed against him, his heartbeat singing a lullaby to you as his fingers stroke and caress the silken waves of your hair. You wonder at how this man - a total stranger a week ago - has seemingly knitted himself into becoming a cocoon of safety for you, his gentleness and calm offering a haven of tranquility in your otherwise cacophonous world, as the light in the room slowly fades to black.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Uh oh.”

“Hey, welcome back, sunshine!” a gentle pair of fingers stroke back the hair that had drifted into your face as you dozed.

“Sorry for falling asleep. Again,” trying to finesse your way through the heat flaming your cheeks, you offer an awkward grin towards your chuckling pillow, “Guess we’d better start getting things finished as we’ve only got a couple of hours until everyone arrives.

“Oh, don’t give me that look, Marcus! I don’t want to move either but this curry won’t finish cooking itself.”

“Spit spot, there’s work to be done,” Marcus trills as he adopts his best attempt at a British accent.

“What the fuck was that? Did you just turn into Dick Van Dyke or something?” You tease mercilessly at the appalling sound coming from those lips, choking back laughter at his mock offended face.

“C’mon, you’re right. We’d better get moving,” Marcus stands with a stretch and a creak before reaching back to tug you to your feet.

Back under the glowing lights of Marcus’ kitchen, his presence is now constantly close to yours as you glide together around the space - stirring, chopping and checking. Every time he passes, above the general aroma of cumin and coriander, the onions and garlic, you can smell the cedar and amber upon his skin- a deliciously masculine scent that only seeks to entangle your senses further.

“Here, try this,” you hold out a heaped teaspoon of mince curry to Marcus, “This is the keema - I promise that I only put in the two chillies you chopped for me, this time.”

“Mmm, that’s so good,” he says thickly between chews, stealing the spoon from you as he dives in for a second, third, fourth spoonful.

“Hahaha! Leave some for the others- and you need to try it with some raita and fried onions too,” you check through your dog-eared, yellowed and slightly sticky recipe book that your mum had handed you the day you’d left home at eighteen - a memo of all the times you had cooked them together.

“Shit, I’d better start the chicken,” going through the spices in front of you, you search for the cardamoms that would make the butter chicken sing, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Marcus’ head snaps up from the green beans he was preparing towards you, “What’s up, sweetheart?”

“I can’t find the cardamoms for the butter chicken - gah I knew I’d fuck this up!” you cry, scraping your trembling hands through your hair, eyes flashing around the room wildly as your cortisol rises, making you want to run and scream at your failure to feed your friends.

“Whoa - where’s this coming from? C’mon, look at me. Look at me, Nush,” Marcus has his hands on either side of your shoulders, squeezing them gently, “There’s enough here to feed our whole office for the week with the daals you prepared yesterday, the vegetables we’re about to make and the meats that we’ve cooked up already here. Andy is bringing all the rice and naan, Kiri is bringing beers and Dian is on gin and tonic duty. You have done more than enough and I will not allow you to get this upset over one missing ingredient especially when there is a small store downstairs that I’m sure will have it, if we cannot find it after we look for it together.”

After seeing your numb nod as an agreement, Marcus moves his hands to the side of your head to focus your gaze on him rather than the panic seeping through you. As he strokes his thumbs across your cheeks, you allow your eyes to close and your breathing to regain a normal pattern.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising?” Marcus searches your now open eyes.

“My reactions are ridiculous. Most people tell me to stop being so stupid and that just whips the storm inside my head even more,” you whisper, “But you. You know how to slow everything down and stop the spinning.”

The corner of Marcus’ mouth twitches, “D’ya wanna know a secret?” You nod at him, “As you know, I was married before. When it ended, I totally spiralled. The world kept spinning too fast and I experienced constant anxiety, very nearly burning out of my role.

“I was lucky. My boss was understanding but made me promise to get some support. He knew of someone mental health trained within the FBI who was there for mainly hostage negotiations - not part of the true psych team but someone who could help without it turning up on your record.

“Kwame worked with me for almost a year - pretty much to the point my decree absolute came through. Our sessions were done on a track - by running with me, he was teaching me the skills I needed to control my fears. By my feet hitting the tarmac, he was grounding me. By going over running techniques, he was teaching me how to control my breathing- taking longer and deeper breaths. And running is just repetition. A mindful repetition that allows your brain to have a bit of a break.

“So when I see you start to spiral, I try to give you the same steps he taught me. Get you grounded, opposite me so you copy my breathing and hope that gets you on the right track.”

“Thank you,” you drop your head forwards, relaxing onto his chest. He feels so - safe.

“You don’t need to thank me. Well, okay maybe you do as look what I’ve just spotted,” Marcus holds the offending spice aloft.

“Oh my god, I could fucking kiss you. You have just saved the curry,” you dramatically declare, clutching the cardamom jar to your heart before placing it next to the other ingredients on the counter.

“Go on then.”

What?

His comment makes you snap your head over to catch Marcus’ tremulous gaze, his eyes darting between the floor and your lips. He takes a small step, closing the small distance between the two of you, threading his fingers between yours. Each slow movement offers an unspoken opportunity for you to step away. To tease him and move on with the day.

But why on Earth would you?

With your heart racing faster and faster, you lure him ever closer with your eyes, soft but absolute in their conviction of what was about to pass between you. A small part of you understands that when you kiss him, something will change forever. That within his lips you may find the place to call home - the aching in your stomach may cease and life could start to make sense again. The anxieties of the week washing away, the pain of your collective pasts and the hint of a brighter, happier future before you.

When he doesn’t move again, you seize the moment. Pushing up onto your socked tiptoes, you tilt your chin, inclining your face until your lips come to rest upon his in the sweetest, chastest kiss. Drawing back slightly to check that Marcus is okay with a raise of your eyebrows and widened eyes, he holds your gaze steadily, similarly stunned - a mirror of each other with racing hearts and slightly parted lips. It’s like in that moment everything around you ceases to exist as anything other than extraneous nonsense - all the noise inside your head silenced by that one touch.

A small dumbstruck smile creeps across Marcus’ lips before he lowers his head to press another gentle kiss upon you. Then another. Then another. Each press of your lips a little longer. A little deeper. Your lips part to allow his tongue entry as every single thought is quietened by the taste of him. Dropping hands for his to cradle your face and yours to thread through his hair as your bodies press together tightly.

Oh the taste of him is utterly exquisite! From where you’ve been using him as chief curry taster, there’s an element of spices with the tiniest hint of mint. And how you have missed having that beautifully solid warmth of his body next to yours. Inhaling his breaths that fall upon you, your hearts match each other’s rhythms as your lips explore each other, every sensation drawing together to create a humming ball of energy, like you are standing at the point where lightning strikes the Earth.

✪✪✪✪✪

Hands fisted tightly in each other’s clothing - both stuck in the quandary of wanting to tear the fabric from your bodies but also frightened of pushing the other too far. Finally pulling apart, you gaze upon Marcus - all lust blown pupils and dopey smiles. Your foreheads come back to rest against each other, unable to quite let go just yet, not wanting to break the spell and return to reality.

“I have wanted to kiss you since perhaps the first time I met you,” Marcus murmurs as his lips gently ghost over your cheeks, “Maybe even from seeing the photo in your file when Andy drove me here from the airport.”

“Was the person, me?” You quietly ask, finally with the confidence to finish that conversation, “The reason you didn’t kiss or sleep with the goddess?”

He drops his eyes as he gives you a small nod, “Normally, I’d have just asked you out but I was scared of fucking up. It’s been a long time since I felt a spark with anyone.

“You’ve entered my life in this whirlwind of intelligence, beauty and tenderness - I didn’t want to frighten you or make you feel uncomfortable if you didn’t reciprocate.”

A thousand thoughts flood your mind as Marcus says those words. All at once, you want to tell him how safe he makes you feel. How much now that you’ve started kissing him, you never want to stop. How the cruel critics of slumber, silence themselves when you feel his heartbeat against your cheek.

Instead you stand there, silent.

Trying to stroke out the creases you’ve created in his t-shirt as you attempt to find words to put into a logical order, you notice his face twitching when the material under your fingers makes contact with his sides, “Oh Marcus, are you ticklish?”

“Um, no,” Marcus tries to deny breezily as he takes a small, hesitant step back from you, pretending to steady himself.

Making a small movement towards him, your hands at the same level as the point of the bunched fabric - you ask, “Are you sure about that?”

“Yeah,” Marcus is now eyeing you suspiciously - desperate to kiss you again but also a little worried as to what havoc your fingers might reek.

“Then, why are you moving away from me?”

“No reason…” his usually deep voice now a little tighter and higher, “Nush… What are you about to ARGH!”

His knees crumble beneath him as you attack his sensitive sides, “Gah! Quit it, woman,” he weakly commands between wheezes and hoots of laughter.

Taking full advantage of Marcus’ prone and vulnerable position, you take the opportunity to straddle him - effectively pinning him to the floor, “This is how you pin someone.”

“I let you pin me,” Marcus corrects you with a wink.

“Oh really?” you contest, entirely unconvinced by his bravado.

“Yeah,” he says with a small wiggle, bringing his hands to the back of your head, “Cos y’see, I can flip our positions quite easily.”

Suddenly, you find yourself flat on your back in Marcus’ kitchen with zero air in your lungs to form any sensible thought other than to kiss him hard. His large hands cradle your head as he props himself gently above you on his elbows. You feel his entire body covering yours. Deliciously pressing against every single inch of you and oh how it takes every bit of the minutismal amount of self control you have to not beg him to fuck you senseless into that floor.

✪✪✪✪✪

“Shit, is that your door?”

“Fuck,” Marcus pushes himself up to kneeling between your legs, “Can we pretend we’re not in?”

The harsh realisation of an evening with your colleagues, albeit lovely people, sinks in to you both.

“Nope,” you groan, popping the p with a deflated gusto, “Hang on, don’t buzz them up until I’ve tucked my boobs back into my bra.”

“I dunno, makes for easier access,” Marcus lopsidedly grins with a wink as he heads for the door.

“You certainly didn’t seem to make hard work of it earlier,” you mumble at him, before you affix a smile to your face, “Hey! How are you all doing?”

A sea of never ending hugs envelopes and separates you from Marcus as everyone piles into his apartment. The stupid grin still firmly in place on your face since you’d first kissed, you find that every time you look over at him, he’s gazing right back, mirroring that lovestruck smile.

“Oh my god, it all smells so amazing,” Dian waxes lyrical, squeezing you tightly as she inhales a lungful of exotically scented air, “What’ve we got?”

You take her by the hand into the kitchen to show all the different things you had bubbling away. Andy ducks into the kitchen behind you, laden with bags filled with pilau rice, naan and chapatis, and a beautiful small bunch of spring flowers in his other hand - tiny tête-à-tête daffodils with multiple heads along each stalk, brilliant yellow and red tulips standing like soldiers and the otherworldly looking stems of hyacinth, wickedly scenting the air under your nose as he thrusts them under there.

“Hey pretty girl, here’s all the bits you asked for. You deserve a much bigger bunch for what I’ve roped you into but I know you love the early blooms,” he offers by way of apology, sticking a kiss to the side of your forehead, “Smells fucking good though as ever. Hope you don’t mind but I’ve brought a box to take some home for Greg - he was a jealous arse this evening so I suppose I should share.”

“You know the way I cook, enough for several small armies,” you wonkily grin at him, truly thankful for the part he’d had to play, “‘Fraid there’s no easy way to say this and you will have to be the one to break it to Greg, but there’s no butter chicken tonight.”

“You’d better have a damn good excuse for this slatternly behaviour, madam,” Andy gives you a serious side eye for this infraction.

“Well…”

“Initially Nush couldn’t find the cardamoms but then we ran out of time. Plenty of food here, though,” Marcus answers for you, his hand gently holding your hip as he reaches around you to grab a couple of beers from the fridge.

You see Andy catch Marcus’ hand lightly stroking your side as he walks back to Kiritopa, but are entirely grateful when his expression and mouth say nothing. The light chatter in the kitchen, whilst Dian dips a teaspoon into all the pots, is interrupted by a small knock at the door. Sticking your head around the kitchen door, you spot Marcus opening the door to a nervous-looking Harper. Andy sidles past you, to pull her into the main room, rather than her previous position of standing on the doorstep, utterly awkward and obviously feeling quite out of place.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind me coming. I know I wasn’t there Friday but I don’t really do large crowds and drinking.”

You walk over to her amidst the chorus of “not to worry”s and “lovely to see you”s, “Fancy something to drink now? Got plenty of soft options and I think I’ll stick alongside you as I’ve got to make sure I don’t burn stuff.”

“Including yourself, this time,” Harper retorts quickly with a small smile and a raise of her eyebrows.

“Hah, chance’d be a fine thing,” Andy laughs, slapping your shoulder before turning back to clink bottles and talk with Kiri and Marcus.

✪✪✪✪✪

Through the full length doors of Marcus’ balcony, evening spring sunshine streams through, bathing the group of your co-workers in a gentle, diffused light that flows around the room coating you in a golden glow. You all eat your fill and then some, with full tummies and tired eyes - the kitchen still full of half eaten dishes.

“Can we make this a weekly thing?” Kiritopa asks through a mouthful of food, hopefully.

“Not unless we take it in turns or get a take away - I don’t have the physical or emotional energy to make this level of curry every weekend,” you pointedly remark, looking up from your coke to meet Marcus’ eyes.

You’ve spent the evening barely speaking to each other for fear of alerting the others but surreptitiously brushing past so that you can sneak touches. Tender hidden strokes that feel like the kindest stitches on hidden, gaping wounds.

Marcus stands up to help usher the evening to an end and get you to himself again, “I have some boxes for y’all to take food home as otherwise, I’ll be eating this for weeks - delicious as it is.”

Everyone thankfully takes their boss’ hint and head into the kitchen to grab platefuls to reheat after long days. Slowly saying their goodbyes, your friends drift off in the direction of their homes as you throw yourself in an exhausted heap of bones on his sofa. Two strong hands grip you under your arms, to drape your torso across his lap.

“Hey tired girl,” you slightly open your eyes to spy a smiling Marcus gazing down at you. His fingers draw lazy patterns over the sensitive skin of your neck.

“I’d like to take you on a proper date this week. Wanna do this properly. Make a bit of a fuss.”

“Yeah? Not just pin me down and ravish me on the kitchen floor?” you grin widely at him.

“Well, I’d hardly call that a ravishing…” your eyes widen, eyebrows raising at Marcus’ comment, excitement pooling in your tummy, “Yeah, I saw there’s an Argentinian restaurant in Blackheath so how about steak, Malbec and homemade ice cream before I bring you back to either yours, or mine, for another, even better ravishing?”

“That sounds amazing, although with the amount of food in my belly, I may never have to eat again,” you give your stomach a rub, “But the ravishing…”

Hauling you up to sitting across his lap, you protest loudly, “I am going to crush your legs.”

“Stop making ridiculous comments and c’mere,” Marcus demands as he gently turns your head towards him, stealing a delicate kiss from you.

“I...should… - argh! Stop kissing me for a second,” you beg halfheartedly, “I should go home.”

“Stay.”

“Please stay,” Marcus desperately entreats you, “I’m not expecting anything but I’d love it if you stayed. I know you’ve got nothing here but give me two minutes and I can have a spare toothbrush for you. I’ll drop you home early tomorrow morning so you can grab some clothes and then we can go into work together?”

It feels as though the wind is knocked out of your lungs with the depth of Marcus’ need to be around you.

How does he do it?

“There’s no games with you, are there?” you twist in Marcus’ lap so that you now straddle his thighs, placing your hands on either side of his ridiculously handsome face.

“No,” he shakes head slowly, all the while holding eye contact with you, “I’m too old and I know what I want.”

“What’s that?”

Stroking his hands up and down your sides as he nuzzles your neck, he clearly and confidently declares,

“You.”

Tag list of glory (as ever, please ask to be put on or dropped from the list): @astroboots @silverwolf319@sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @bison-writes @the-ginger-hedge-witch @danniburgh @sugarontherims @green-socks @tardisfangurl @absurdthirst @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @mouthymandalorian @mrsparknuts @zukoyonce @agirllovespancakes @yespolkadotkitty @lunaserenade @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

[im-frickin-trying-okay]

Random BNHA Headcanons

(This is my first time doing this 😭)

Summary: A bunch of random BNHA headcanons. So, basically the title. The only reason I’m adding a read more is because I want it to be easier to navigate my page, lol

Bakugo is oddly nice when he first wakes up, but he's not exactly a morning person. He's less "I hate the world, why am I awake???" And more like "I'm extremely comfortable and the only thing that can ruin my mood is becoming less comfortable." He likes hovering between awake and asleep, y'know? Which is why if he's sleepy, his guard drops. When leaving the dorms, if he hasn't fully woken up, he goes from "outta my way, shitty-hair," to "mornin' Eijirou," and by the time he's actually aware of what he said, Kiri's already freaking out. If he's in bed all day for any reason other than being sick, he's probably soft for at least a few hours.

Kaminari's the type to wake up at 2 AM with an idea, go to jot it down, and then realize that he wrote a ten chapter book and now he's late for class. He'll probably put it into a google doc or something, so he can continue to add onto it throughout the day. I also feel like he probably will also randomly get a question and then spend hours researching it and any surrounding topics, before rambling to Kiri about "bro, if I went to the beach, I could make a bunch of glass! Probably! Maybe!" And then have to try and convince his friends that he can just make windows if anyone needs them.

Sero had added moves to his skill set, and practiced particular actions, with the sole intention of mimicking Spiderman. When Kirishima questions him on it, he compares Spiderman to Crimson Riot. They have a conversation that's essentially fanboying, both of them saying "we are not bringing All Might into this," and then more fanboying.

Jirou has an extremely eclectic music taste. If you can name a song, she probably knows it. She can memorize full melodies and all the lyrics within two or three listens, because she's just that good. Some people call her the human Shazam, because if you play the first five seconds of a song she likes, she'll immediately know what it is. She's also called out artists if they made a clear rip-off of a much better song. Her music taste is all over the place, which therefore makes it superior. However. This does not stop her from listening to the same six songs on repeat for a week. The six change a lot, though.

Koda has trouble with bugs, especially big ones. They scare him. But he has pretty much no issues with tigers, lions, horses, or even wolves. He loves animals, he really does. If you just showed up at his doorstep and shoved a bear cub in his arms, he wouldn't really question it, because he'd be happy to have a cute animal to play with.

Todoroki believes himself to be the opposite of moody. His definition of moody is switching emotions for no reason. He, personally, doesn't feel any emotion until something happens that day, be it a thought or an event, and his emotions stay fixed like that until something else happens. He could be having a great day, and then suddenly, it's a horrible day, and he can't figure out how people just "get over it." He does, however, find that unless something REALLY bad or REALLY good happens, his brain does a little emotional reset when he goes to sleep. Like, go to sleep feeling down, wake up feeling kinda meh.

Kirishima has considered re-dying his hair. Come on, hot pink is so manly! How could he not consider it? But he eventually resigns himself, because red just is his color now. Also, I feel like once, before dorms, he was really out of it, so he went to class with his hair down, and this was the first time anyone had seen him like that, and everyone was just confused as hell. Especially Bakugo. "Your hair's less shitty today. What the fuck."

Uraraka takes part in stupid bets all the time. Partially for the fun, and partially for the profit. She once floated Bakugo to the ceiling for 26 minutes before she had to put him down, because Kiri said that if she survived, he'd give her a dollar per minute. She ended up having to go to the recovery girl's office, but at least she got her money.

Mina is one of the few people who can understand and keep up with Deku's mumbling. This is not because she specifically tries to, (like Uraraka) or because she's known him long enough, (like Bakugo.) She's just used to gossipping with Hagakure at 4 AM, and therefore can understand high-speed low-volume speech. She's called him out on things before, but only when she's interested. She completely tunes out things about All Might and heroes and whatnot, but if he ever has anything to say about his classmates, specifically about Uraraka, Todoroki, and Bakugo, (because she, Hagakure, and Denki placed bets,) she hears every word.

Iida secretly loves to break the rules. He acts strict in front of anyone who he respects, or wants respect from, but after he thinks everyone's asleep, he relaxes, doing things that he considers rule-breaking without any remorse. Denki heard someone walking around outside while on one of his late-night internet searches. After finally willing himself to break away from an article about pandas, he popped his head out of the door to find Iida sneaking around. After some silent observation, Denki realized that not only did Iida just get back from breaking curfew, but he casually stole Hot Cheetos from Bakugo's room on the way back to his dorm. He said nothing the next day, at least not directly, but he sorta shoved Sero and Iida in the same room so that they could be bad influences on each other.

Despite it being a major part of her quirk, Hagakure almost never feels invisible. She has a lot of friends to talk to, she can wear cool outfits to stand out, and she is always talking. The only time she's not talking is during stealth training, and when she's using said stealth training to spy on people.

Tsu's little "ribbit" thing is actually just for fun. It feels right to do it, so she does it. Nothing wrong with that. However, pretty much everyone else assumed it was a part of her quirk. It took an insane amount of convincing to get that idea out of their heads. Deku was proud to be one of the few who never actually associated it with her quirk. He could prove it if he wanted to, actually, but that would require showing someone his notebook, which would open a whole other can of worms.

Oh yeah, speaking of Deku's notebook, he has multiple. Six to be exact. One is on his fellow classmates, one is on most pros, one is on the LOV, one is specifically on All Might, one is on his own quirk development, and the last one is a narrative of what's happening in his life, which is why he's constantly thinking as if he's telling a story. He mentally narrates everything that happens in his life, although he sometimes wonders if he's dramatizing things because of that. His internal monologue is constantly running its mouth, and sometimes he ends up speaking over it.

Tokoyami really likes plague doctors. He just does. He wants a plague doctor mask so he can walk around with less judgement, or maybe more, who knows? He just loved the concept. He claims that they're just really cool, which most people agree with, but he's never told any of them that he likes them because he saw a plague doctor mask for the first time at the age of six, and immediately thought bird man.

Sato likes baking, but he can't cook normally to save his life. Well, he can, but he can't. He hasn't burned water, and he knows how to do the very basics, but he can't function without a recipe, not to mention the fact that he's googled how to saute mushrooms three times and still doesn't get it. Baking comes pretty naturally. Exact measurements, precise times and temperatures. Cooking does not. Eyeballing ingredient amounts, guessing if the flame is high enough, trying to figure out how often 'stir occasionally' is. He actually once asked Bakugo if he had advice, to which he responded, "Why the hell are you asking me?!"