#its my birthday today I get to choose the shenanigans

[sadclowncentral]

for my birthday this year, my friends and i did a drunk photo competition portraying norse legends. the rules were simple: after you pull a random prompt, you have 10 minutes to create the picture with household items. while shitfaced of course.

anyway, here is my team's low budget rendition of jörmungandr rising from the sea during ragnarök.

featuring me as the head of the sea serpent (left) and my brother as loki (right)

[dnfao3tags]

Monthly Fic Roundup - March 2023

hellooooo :]

if you liked the fic, dont forget to kudos and leave a comment (no matter how small) !

— Do Androids Dream of Poetry? by ABirdWithoutFeathers (teen | comp. | 3k)

> Happy birthday!! Who are you? > My name is George! it is so, so nice to finally meet you. What is a birthday? > It’s the anniversary of the day you come into existence, when you start being. Today is your very first day in the world. Oh. Well, what do I do now?

— like slush & kissing by findingahome (teen | comp. | 2k)

Dream eats all of the frozen mangos; chaos ensues.

— kiss me like your fantasy by astroscythe (teen | comp. | 3k)

George asks Dream to help him practice kissing, and Dream is too (jealous) nice to say 'no.'

— purple (you've had too much) by crabnap (expl. | comp. | 8k)

Dream learns something new about George after a night of drinking. He can’t get it out of his head.

— i'll take what i can get by demonstars (mature | comp. | 20k)

George going insane, in full resolution.

— all of you, a verb in perfect view by findingahome (mature | wip | 11k+)

despite being soulmates, they do nothing about it (well, okay, maybe not nothing).

— infinitely ordinary by twostorms (teen | comp. | 5k)

3 times George and Dream's secret relationship isn't much of a secret—and the one time that it is.

— karma is a cat purring in my lap by jack_not_found (gen | comp. | 2k)

Patches misses George while he's away.

— from the outside by nervouswaltz (gen | comp. | 3k)

Tina and George find some common ground in the stupidity of boys.

— one way ticket by dizzy (expl. | comp. | 60k)

George's family tells him he has to either get a job or go back to school... so in May of 2019 he applies to university in Florida and shows up on Dream's doorstep. Neither of them are really expecting Dream's youtube channel to blow up just after George moves in.

— invisible string by womanhunt (mature | comp. | 4k)

The sight is one that leaves him lightheaded. George is in his chain, and the way it looks sitting against his neck is breathtaking. “Now we match.” George seems elated at the idea, reaching out to squeeze Dream’s thigh as he says it. “Well, I mean,” Dream responds, unable to tear his eyes away from the chain. “Not really. They’re not, like, exactly the same.” “We match, Dream.” George emphasizes, reaching up to hold the chain around his own neck between his fingers.

— Cartwheel by ivegivenuponyou (expl. | comp. | 5k)

George gets too drunk and can't help but let everything fall apart.

— you'd be glad to say you know me (satisfaction guaranteed) by lovestruckdaggers (teen | comp. | 7k)

george is head over heels for the witty morning announcer in his school, dream. he also despises clay, the guy who keeps stealing his seat in compsci. shenanigans ensue.

— covid fics by tippysleeps (series | 4 works | teen, mature, expl. x 2 | 6k)

fics written when diseased. quality may vary.

— The Indiscriminate Indulgence of Morning Affection by lasciviess (expl. | comp. | 8k)

People can only withstand so much before they eventually give in, and that's exactly what Dream and George are: run-of-the-mill people who also happen to have been painfully infatuated with each other for somewhere between two and five years. The night that they finally break, it's like every single thing falls into place between them and the world finally snaps to its axis. Despite the fact that so many questions and uncertainties still remain when George wakes up the next morning, he knows that everything will eventually be alright as he watches Dream sleep the minutes away. What he doesn't know is exactly how much the stolen clothing he wears will affect Dream the moment he wakes up, and exactly how the man he just admitted to loving will choose to deal with it.

— out of focus by lodestones (gen | comp. | 3k)

The first time Hannah suspects that there’s something between Dream and George, she convinces herself she’s just reading into things.

— in the place of you & me by Orlaith (expl. | wip | 4k+)

Dream and George dated in 2019, but George, insecure and a world away, ended things. Now it's 2022, George is moving to Florida, and neither of them ever really stopped loving the other.

— every doorway and doorframe by wooowriter (mature | comp. | 36k)

in the interim of waiting to be with Dream, George starts sleeping with Wilbur.

— tonight i'll sleep with the dream of you by charoo (gen | comp. | 3k)

five times george fell in love with dream in person and the one time he realized dream had fallen in love with him.

— show me all your rings by preytall (expl. | comp. | 1k)

"Why're you looking at me like that?" Dream almost doesn't hear the words for the shape of his mouth as it forms them, and his response is reflexive, buying time: "Like what?" A laugh, some of its punch undercut by his panting, because Dream is still stroking him. "Like I've got something on my face." "You do." He could play it off but opts to play into it, instead. "You have two eyes... a nose... a mouth..." It's lame and obvious; George smiles, anyway, and shakes his head slightly. "Which one, Dream?" "Your mouth," Dream admits.

— the thought of it’s enough by mieldoux (expl. | comp. | 15k)

Dream and George haven’t had sex, but they’ve toed the line a few times.

[impawsiblecat]

100 Days of Deathduo

Haunted Mirror AU- Part one!

Tw: spooky scenes and vibes

I didn't have time to write a chapter today because it is my birthday so I have posted one I wrote a while ago! It also is split up into two in case I needed another chapter so ignore the a rupt ish ending <3

    There is a mirror in the living room of Clover’s house, one passed down through the generations until it had ended up above her mantel, a decoration way fancier than anything else she owns. The border is silver, twisted into whirling snowflakes and vines, emanating the image of a cold, snowy land. It is beautiful, and Clover uses it to check her reflection as she walks by, although something about it feels… strange. Otherworldly, perhaps, but Clover just chalks it up to her imagination. 

    Sometimes, Clover could swear frost gathered on the edge of the mirror, but whenever she looks, there is nothing there. She chalks it up to the reflection of the silver border, a figment of her imagination. Other times, she sees someone in the mirror in her peripheral vision, only for it to b a pile of laundry. And yet, Clover is used to the strangeness, used to the aura of mystery surrounding it. Old furniture usually has that effect, right?

    When her younger cousins come over to visit, they claim the mirror is haunted, and take turns saying the name Bloody Mary into it, chickening out before saying it three times in a row and running away screaming when they finally do. Nothing happens, of course, and the cousins end up laughing after their shenanigans. And yet, when Clover looks up, she could swear she sees a faint, silver hair figure in the glass. She laughs too, amused that her cousins have infected her brain with the ghost stories. 

    The mirror isn’t the only thing left from her descendants. Her great great grandmother, or aunt, perhaps, was a writer, famous for a story. Although Clover doubts anyone other than her family knows about her works, Clover still enjoys them, reading yellowed pages of reprinted books. She struggles with some of the language used, but she loves the books nonetheless. Her favorite is the one about a cursed individual, who disappeared out of guilt and was never seen again. The ending is tragic, her favorite kind, and everytime, Clover is left to think of the possibilities of what could have happened now.

    Her cousins tease her in their silly, childish ways, wondering why she would choose the one story that ends in despair, but Clover lightly sends them back to their parents in order to reread the book. There is something captivating about it, about the characters and sadness and tragedy depicted. 

    The mirror watches her as she reads, and she looks up when she feels eyes on her, although she once again doesn’t see anything. The feeling disappears as soon as she stops reading, and continues when she turns back to the book. The room seems a bit chillier than normal, but Clover can’t be bothered to get up and fix it. She ignores the feeling of being watched, and continues to read, getting to the buildup, the climax, and the end. The cliffhanger that will never be resolved, the sad ending that can’t even count for bittersweet.

    As she reaches the last line, the mirror falls.

    It startles Clover, and she snaps the book shut, staring at the mirror. Her cousins must have played near it again before they left, and Clover takes a few seconds to calm her racing heart before she goes to mount the mirror again. 

    When she touches the sliver, she pulls her hands back at the sudden cold. It feels like the border is made out of ice, although Clover is not sure how that is possible, and she can only stare at the mirror again. She grabs it again, gritting her teeth at the shocking cold as she mounts the mirror in its rightful place. Clover once again stares at the mirror.

    “Hello?” She says, feeling silly as soon as she says the word. She is too old for that type of silly, childish game, and after a couple of seconds, Clover shakes her head and turns back to the book so she can put it away.

    “Hello.” A faint voice says, so quiet Clover almost believes it's in her imagination, or perhaps an echo of her own voice. It sounds muffled, like it came from a closed room. She freezes, and then slowly turning around and looking at the mirror. A figure of a person disappears when she focuses on it, turning into a chair, and Clover laughs unbelievably. Those kids must have spooked her more than she thought with their ghost stories. 

    She turns back around, perhaps a little too quickly, grabbing the book and starting to hurry out of the room, when that same voice speaks again. “Wait.” It is once again quiet. Clover almost continues to leave, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she slowly turns around once again. This time, she focuses her vision on the edges of the mirror, and, as suspected, she sees a silvery figure in the corner of her eye.

    Clover bolts out of the room and into her own bedroom, trying to calm her racing heart. Her mirror is haunted. That is probably not a good thing. She opens her phone and looks up craigslist. Does anyone even use craigslist anymore? Clover decides it doesn’t matter, and she quickly fills out information about the mirror. And then she stops, because she can’t get rid of the mirror. It’s an heirloom. 

    Which means there is only one option. To exorcize the ghost haunting it. Clover opens a new tab, and quickly buys a bottle of water off of Amazon. She reads the Wikihow article “Three Ways to Exorcize your House or Dwelling.” She skims through it, ignoring most of the information, until she gets to one step. Kindly ask the spirit or ghost to leave, avoiding anger or fear. Clover can do that, right? It shouldn’t be that hard to just go up and ask a random person in a mirror to get out, right? Who is she kidding, if the fear of the ghost doesn’t kill her the awkwardness of talking to them will.

[qianinterprises]

Birthday Blues

Genre | tiny angst, crack, fluff Pairing | Xiaojun x Reader Warning | sadness in the beginning, but it's nothing bad, just some moping. Word Count | 1.5k Summary | Spending his birthday without his family is hard. Spending it without you is even harder. Good thing Kun has a gift that will make everything better. Author's Note | Just a small fic to celebrate Xiaojun's birthday! Happy birthday Xiaojun!! 💕💕

Originally posted here

It didn’t come as a surprise to anyone when Dejun walked downstairs that morning, dragging his feet, shoulders slumped low as he shuffled into the kitchen where Kun was standing at the stove, stirring whatever delicious concoction he had cooking.

“Morning Junie-ge!” YangYang beamed at the slightly older man.

Dejun glanced up at him and couldn’t stop the small smile from growing on his face. YangYang was infectious. Anyone that was around him for any amount of time would be able to tell you that. He was annoying, yes. He sometimes made Dejun want to ring his neck, yes again, but he was their baby, their maknae, and he was an excellent hype man.

“Why so low?” Kun’s steady voice asked as he flipped a browning dough over in the pan.

Flapjacks and… something else…

Kun already knew why Dejun was less than enthusiastic on his day, but it still didn’t hurt to ask. Perhaps get the boy to talk before he kidnapped Bella and disappeared into his room for the day.

“You know why,” Dejun grumbled back, face falling once again.

“Tell me anyway,” Kun insisted.

Dejun huffed, shoulders shaking as he did so, but he didn’t ignore the elder.

“My parents and brother are nowhere close, so I can’t see them today, which sucks. But it’s made worse because I can’t even see (y/n) today. She’s busy and even if she weren’t, we’re in a totally different place than she is! She would have had to fly out and she doesn’t have time for that.”

Kun nodded in understanding, giving Dejun a look he couldn’t read but somehow made him feel better.

“Are you going to try video calling her?” YangYang asked.

He’d been so quiet Dejun nearly forgot the boy was there.

“I hope,” Dejun shrugged. “If she has time for me…”

“She loves you. She’ll have time for you.”

“Maybe…” Dejun muttered, shoulders slumping lower.

The kitchen fell silent save for the popping grease of whatever the hell Kun was making before being interrupted by another bright soul.

“Happy birthday Dejun!” Ten’s voice was shrill as he shrieked in Dejun’s ear, but the younger couldn’t bring himself to care as his bandmate wrapped him in a tight hug, giving him an extra squeeze for good measure before letting go and walking over to the stove to pester Kun.

“What did you do to him?” Ten shrieked, picking a silver spoon up from the counter and dipping it into the pan of whatever mysterious food Kun was cooking, only to be stopped as their leader brought a wooden spoon down on the top of Ten’s head, giving him a glare.

“I didn’t do anything to him. Now shoo!” Kun urged, pushing Ten away with his hip.

Ten stared at the male with betrayal written all over his face, but he seemed to get over it soon because he was draping himself across Dejun’s lap not a moment later.

“So why the sullen face Junie?”

Dejun groaned, choosing to ignore the male, not wanting to repeat himself as he leaned back against the chair he was sitting in. Part of him roved over the thought of pushing Ten from his lap and watching the male flounder to the floor, but even though he wasn’t exactly in a great mood, he wouldn’t do that to Ten…

...Unless the other irritated him too much.

“Something smells delicious!” Yukhei’s voice boomed as he walked into the kitchen, clad only in a pair of green and gold striped boxers.

“Seriously Yukhei?” Ten groaned.

The taller didn’t acknowledge him as he walked over to the stove to investigate what his leader was cooking when Kun suddenly turned around, his eyes falling on Yukhei’s bare chest.

Surprise was the first thing that crossed his features, but that was quickly washed away by annoyance.

“Wong Yukhei! You have better sense than to parade around the kitchen half in the nude!” he yelped. “I taught you better manners than that!”

The vein at the side of Kun’s forehead, right by his left temple, was starting to pinken up, enlarging enough that Dejun could see it pulsating with growing anger.

“But it’s hot,” Yukhei whined.

“So? Do you see any of us walking around with half our junk hanging out?!”

Yukhei opened his mouth to speak.

“No! You don’t! Because we have manners!”

Kun must have woken up on the wrong side of the bed… that… or his girlfriend was coming over and he wanted everyone on their best behavior.

“I would be completely naked if I wanted to get shouted at,” Ten indruded on the conversation, not looking up from his phone.

Kun and Yukhei turned to look at him. The vein in Kun’s forehead was becoming more prominent.

“Put some damn clothes on!” Kun snapped after a long moment of looking at Ten. “And keep your clothes on!” he snapped.

A mischievous grin crossed Yukhei’s features and Dejun knew this wasn’t over, but Yukhei knew how to pick his battles.

“I told you to put on some clothes before you left the room,” Sicheng pointed out, walking into the kitchen as Yukhei was hurrying out.

No one bothered to answer as Sicheng sat down at the table, fingers drumming on the faux wood.

“Is breakfast almost ready?” YangYang whined.

Kun rolled his shoulders and grabbed a few pot holders from their drawer. Sicheng got up from the table and moved to the stove, grabbing them from their leader. He brought them over to the table, placing them down as Kun followed close behind, one hand holding a plate of fluffy-looking flapjacks. The other holding a searing pan of egg, peppers, crushed bacon, diced ham, and crumbled sausage in a stir fry-like omelette.

Dejun squinted at the food in front of them. It looked good, but it was nothing like what they usually ate for breakfast. It was much… fancier. And yeah, it was Dejun’s birthday and all, but even still, Kun had promised him a nice dinner. They usually didn’t go all out for breakfasts on birthdays!

“Is our lovely leader trying to impress his girlfriend enough to get laid?” Ten asked, wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

Kun’s cheeks dusted pink but he sat down in his chair at the head of the table with a huff.

“Not just my girlfriend,” he grumbled with a huff.

Dejun rolled his eyes. Naturally Kun would try to impress his lady. At least Dejun would get delicious free food out of it. That was one thing going for him today, even if the rest of his day was shot.

He had just pulled a flapjack onto his plate that Guanheng had passed out to everyone as he’d entered the kitchen, when the doorbell rang and Dejun’s eyebrows cinched. Their doorbell hardly ever rang! Anyone from the other units would simply waltz right in and shout out their presence. Any of their significant others would knock before walking in because everyone knew them well enough. The managers never bothered to knock or ring the doorbell, so they only ever heard the chime when there was a large package delivered or a new guest was showing. And it was too early for packages.

“Dejun, could you get the door?” Kun asked, shooting the male a small smile before looking back down at his plate as he scooped some of the omelette onto his plate.

Dejun let out a small huff, but decided not to argue and got up from his table. Who knew, maybe Kun had ordered a big package for him that was to be delivered so early this morning.

He walked from the kitchen and into the front hallway where the door stood. Whoever was at the door was steering clear from the window cut in the center of the door, making it impossible for Dejun to have any guesses on who could possibly be there. His hand gripped the handle and he spun it, unlatching it from the hinge and pulling it open. Only to reveal…

You.

You were standing on the doorstep, a small, rolling suitcase by your side. Your hair wasn’t done up beautifully. It was in a lazy bun. Your clothes weren’t fancy, they were simple sweats. But none of that mattered. All that mattered was you were here.

“(y/n),” he breathed.

A smile crawled its way to your face and you released your hand from your suitcase handle, spreading your arms wide enough for him to step into your embrace. And he did just that.

Your arms encircled his middle, hugging him tightly as he nestled his face into your hair.

Behind you, he noticed Kun’s girlfriend standing, a fond smile covering her own lips as she watched the scene unfold. It was then that Dejun had no doubt she and Kun had cooked this up. Had made this possible. And Dejun made a mental note to protect his wonderful, amazing leader from the shenanigans of the others for the next week, because after this amazing gift, the man deserves the world. But he would have to wait, because Dejun was going to do nothing but cherish you with him for as long as you were able to stay.

When he pulled away, he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, thumbs gently running along your cheekbones. Your eyes locked on his as you placed your hands on his.

“Happy birthday Dejun,” you whispered softly.

That was all you were able to get out before his lips covered yours in a tender, but passionate kiss.

[shoichee]

hello! may i ask some tips about the instragram acccunts the GoM + kagami could have? like of sort of post, amount of followers, stuff like that THANK U and have a great day !!

THIS IS ACTUALLY HILARIOUS SINCE I BREATHE OFF OF INSTAGRAM LFMAO

[Headcanons]

Kuroko Tetsuya

HELP WHAT IF HE HAS NO PRESENCE ON SOCIAL MEDIA TOO—

professional lurker

never comments on anything unless it’s to congratulate under a friend’s post or something like that

probably started using it because Ogiwara moved from letters and texts to just... instagram (technology advancements, jazz hands)

his account is on private, and he only lets people he knows follow him

all of his posts are pictures to commemorate something or just really wholesome group pictures

DEFINITELY has that picture of the GoMs at his birthday OVA

DEFINITELY also posted the big birthday picture taken at the end of the party

and also had typed very sappy BIG paragraph captions for both of these posts, talking about the journey and him being grateful… y’know, him being him

HIS ENTIRE COMMENT SECTIONS ARE JUST EVERYONE SOBBING AND KEYBOARD SPAMMING??? ONLY LIKE MIDORIMA AND AKASHI POST COHERENT RESPONSES UNDERNEATH

@kiseryouta: kuROKOCCHIIIII!!NEJWIEISK

@momoiowo: TETSUU (ʃƪ˘･ᴗ･˘) YOURE SO SWEET REEEE

@a_daikiii: i stg quit being so corny no one died yet🙄 and @momoiowo relax smh

@shin_chan77: I suppose I can express some form of gratitude for being in my life despite you being a blood type A. (insert a giant paragraph after this)

@4k4shi: This was very touching to read, Kuroko. I’m very glad that our… (insert him going down memory lane)

Murasakibara has no comment LMAO

his entire Seirin team are his hype men under his posts

his profile picture is literally the gray default blank head because he didn’t even set up a profile picture for himself

he has like 20 followers max or something?

8 posts? like, he only posts on special occasions or big events

his occasional stories are always comprised of Nigou and blurry Kagami pictures/videos running away from Nigou UH OH (courtesy of @dust-of-fandoms)

@tetsuya11 for his user handle

@dust-of-fandoms JUST MADE AN INSTAGRAM FOR HIM HERE!!

Kise Ryota

uses his instagram account as a portfolio for his modeling career

majority of his posts are actually pictures he managed to snag from his frequent model shoots

it looks SO professional… but then you look at his IGTVs and his reel videos

his reels are either short clips of mini vlog series he does whenever he visits the GoMs or when he’s recording his Kaijō teammates doing tricks and dunks

his IGTVs are either skincare tutorials, fashion advice… or just… unexplainable, out-of-context shitposts of Kise running away from what fans assumed “a green-haired man” or some “captain”

follower account?? 124k

who wouldn’t resist a hot model?

DEFINITELY HAS A TIKTOK I CAN FEEL IT

@kiseryouta with an official verification next to it

people either love him or hate him

posts a casual selfie from time to time, and people praise him for “being real” LMAODOA AND HE’S JUST STARING AT HIS PHONE LIKE “??? IMIG BUT I JUST FELT CUTE TODAY”

his captions feel fake LMAO like: “Wow! today’s so pretty today!” as he puts a selfie post OR “What’s your favorite game?✨” under a professionally-shot model picture that does not correlate with the caption???

has posted shitposts on his stories and his fans are utterly confused… only the GoMs get it LMAO

Midorima Shintarou

ONLY reason why he has social media is because Takao convinced him that he could let everyone know the daily lucky items for each signs for every post he makes

so for the first 2 months of having instagram he just casually posts a “daily horoscope” report(?) for the day

his content attracted in all the astrology fans and people who are devoted to tarots

and he’s CONFUSED.

… Takao may or may not have played a hand in messing with the algorithms to expose his account to bigger audiences

once Midorima finds out he’s MAD LMAO *insert Takao pain noises*

either goes down two paths: just casually continuing to post the daily Oha Asa predictions without interacting with anyone OR deleting his account and making a new PRIVATE one just for communication/lurking purposes

so he can honestly have 10k followers if he chooses to be a horoscope account or like 3 followers on his private, take it or leave it

maybe he has two accounts if he feels that having instagram has its merits

definitely has a shit ton of random stuff/posts in his saved collections

boomer energy, like… what’s a “reels” feature?? people talk to their phone camera and record that?? he’s squinting really hard and scratching his head

either has 356 horoscope posts on his “main” or like 19 posts on his private

has a rubber duck as a profile picture for BOTH ACCOUNTS HELP HIM

@oha_asa_ for his horoscope account or @shin_chan77 as his personal because he doesn’t know how to change his username (thanks, Takao LMAO)

Aomine Daiki

he doesn’t give a shit about instagram LOL

it’s MOMOI who handles his account because he doesn’t wanna bother with it LMAOO

she would tease him and try to “encourage” him to stop lazing around by taking pictures of him whenever he’s snoozing and posting it

but he’s so damn good-looking that his sleeping pictures got some traction with new fans

Aomine is still sleeping

his account also has pictures of him eating at Maji burger or at a café, and of course Momoi is the one snapping these photos of him

he started caring about it a little more once Momoi told him that he can post videos of himself doing trickshots and one-on-ones to potentially find worthy rivals over the internet and meet up

so now his account (videos, reels, IGTVs) are all riddled with basketball/small parkour footage shot by yours truly, Momoi

so his fanbase is split between thirsty people and people who genuinely admire him for his skills… but I mean there’s also people in both categories, anywho

he’d totally follow his favorite Japanese idols on IG if they had one

also would follow any NBA-related accounts/players he admires

has like 2.7k followers (but growing really fast) with like 176 posts of videos and random pictures of him

his profile picture is literally a picture of him sleeping by Momoi

@a_daikiii

Momoi Satsuki

LOTS OF REALLY cute, playful selfies, and a lot of them are used with cute filters from the Snow app

sometimes would post herself doing a really cute Tiktok dance while in her school uniform

she doesn’t post too much; she’s actually more into posting IG stories and making highlights out of them and then making highlight covers have a coordinating theme together

very aesthetic theme on her feed overall hehe

definitely uses her account to comment on other GoMs posts, often commenting something snarky on Aomine’s and Kise’s

actually has 1-2 IGTVs on the Vorpal Sword’s big game against the Jabberwocks

doesn’t have much of full-body shots/outfit pictures other than mirror selfies because Aomine refuses to take good pictures of her

only when she sees Kise or Kuroko is when she can ask either to be a photographer

she’s definitely gotten a few small collab offers from small businesses, but she usually ignores them because it’s not exactly her thing

her profile picture is just a selfie with a sketch-line cat ear filter

uses a bunch of emoticons on her bio, captions, comments, everything

⌒(ㅇㅅㅇ❀)⌒ or ☆⌒(＞。≪) or .₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇.ෆ˟̑*̑˚̑*̑˟̑ෆ.₊̣̇. you get the picture

967 followers… that looks way too specific, but it’s somewhere around there; a lot of them came from Aomine’s account after they saw who’s been taking his pictures, and they wanna learn more about her??

around 40 posts?

@momoiowo

Murasakibara Atsushi

Himuro showed him how to use the app, but Murasakibara doesn’t find ANY USE FOR THIS LMAOO

he’d probably only get on it to look at food on the explore page and drool about the cuisines

keeps tabs on local places/restaurants/shops on instagram; those are probably the only accounts he’d follow tbh

it’s probably like ONE post and it’s an old picture of a dango on a plate he ate like 2 years ago

I have this image in my head that he has a really cute bento art as his profile picture?? can you imagine a Rilakkuma-shaped rice as his PROFILE PICTURE?

his bio is definitely: “hungry”

and that’s it

27 followers, and it’s literally just his Yōsen teammates, the GoMs and probably some other classmates of his

his captions are literally empty or 1-2 words

@oomaib0

Akashi Seijuro

only uses instagram because it’ll be beneficial for his company and to expand social networks, plus getting those sweet business deals and engagement

he doesn’t mind seeing really wholesome videos on the explore page though

when he wants to relax, a cat video melts his stress away

laughs to himself while he reads all the shenanigans underneath the GoMs’ posts

DEFINITELY loses a few brain cells seeing trolls and idiots on the internet… especially on controversial or political ones LMAO

he at first had to REFRAIN himself and take deep breaths before he just scrolls on, but he eventually got used to them and can now easily ignore them as easy as he breathes air

he actually enjoys shitposts and meme videos?? like he may not completely understand the meme trends sometimes, but he’ll still find it amusing enough for a chuckle

he ends up being the one who uses instagram the most? like Kise posts a shit ton, yeah, but Kise doesn’t really sit down and just scroll endlessly; Kise releases out content, while Akashi consumes the content

he reasons with himself that it’s to study his current demographics for the company, and while that may be true, Akashi just enjoys social media, plain and simple LOL

he does get to study the behaviors of all the generations using the platform, young folks and old folks alike, and it does get him excited in using his analytical skills to try to figure out people BEHIND a screen rather than those in front of him

it makes a really good challenge for him when he wants a good mental exercise

he has a post or two about his horses, his manor, and a video or two on him playing his violin?? but most are business-related, them being advertisements or business contracts/offers… things like that

his highlights are all about Q&As regarding the company, his background, his skillsets, etc. like an actual resumé

actually links current world issue cards/petitions on top of his company website; he’s quite an advocate

he actually doesn’t post about basketball because that’s something very close to his heart since it reminds him of his late mother… having that mixed in with his company-related posts feels wrong to him

27k followers, most of them are business-related accounts AND some are some followers his father bought for him without Akashi’s input to inflate engagement, etc.

@4k4shi… oh he thinks he’s SO CLEVER FOR MAKING THIS USERNAME LOL with the 4 being his jersey number and the 4s looking like As… AKASHI PLEASE—

his profile pic is like a professionally taken picture, nothing less for our king

his grammar and syntax are impeccable on social media; after all, he’s still being judged for how he carries himself even on the media

Kagami Taiga

mukbang guy… DEFINITELY

hot guy eating nine plates of steaks

IGTVs are filled with mukbang videos because Kuroko said he could make a living off of his appetite

HE COULD MAKE MONEY OFF OF JUST EATING? SIGN HIM UP.

on his posts, he posts dishes he makes for the day/is proud of and talks about the dish and ingredients briefly in the caption

that, or he has pictures of his new basketball shoes LMAO

or all of his basketball merch

HE’S DEFINITELY POSTED PICTURES OF LANDMARKS AND OTHER ICONIC PLACES HE’S TRAVELED TO (*cough* in America)

has a generic Jordan brand logo against a dark background as a profile picture

doesn’t have his face anywhere unless it’s in a mukbang video

279 followers or something

why do I have a feeling that he’ll accidentally blow up when Alex takes his phone to do a quick selfie on it?—

@taiga10

[queen-ofsunflowers]

DadWorth AU: Part 3 (Justice For All)

Justice for All has to be one of the angstier parts of this AU, right up there with some ideas I have for Apollo Justice. Especially considering the whole Miles “chooses death” thing. So, let’s dive into it!

< Part 2 | Part 4 >

Reunion, and Turnabout

Things fast forward a couple of months after the end of Rise from the Ashes. Gumshoe’s been taking care of Kay since Miles kind of fucked off. He’s been doing his best, and so are Sebastian and Klavier -- who have been trying to cheer up their third musketeer ever since they found out what happened. But Kay is miserable.

So, now summer break is here for her, Gumshoe decides to take her out to the mountains for the day to get out in nature and hopefully get her mind off of things. Even if it is for a little while.

However, that plan is totally ruined when he gets a call about a murder nearby. He’s the only detective in the area, so they have to go down to Kurain Village to check it out. And that’s where they run into Phoenix for the first time since the end of Rise. Both he and Kay are not doing well in the aftermath of that case, and neither are really sure what to do around each other. Needless to say, the whole interaction is awkward.

Gumshoe does not pick up on this. He asks Phoenix if he could keep an eye on Kay while he takes care of the investigation. After some hesitation and deliberation, Phoenix agrees. So Kay becomes his partner button and Phoenix finally get to interact one-on-one with each other during the investigation for Reunion.

This is the first time they get to do this, since they were either with Maya or Ema on previous cases. It’s still a bit awkward, but when Phoenix finds out that she’s studying to be a defense attorney, things get a little bit easier as they find common ground.

Phoenix unknowingly starting to settle into a mentor role? Yes.

Kay is super turned off by Morgan Fey (getting chills up her spine and a faint memory of Dahlia Hawthorne -- she saw the Fawles trial. Phoenix also gets the same vibes from her.) And is surprisingly good with Pearl.

Her reaction to learning that Franziska is the prosecutor for this case catches Phoenix’s attention. Kay hasn’t heard from Franziska outside of a few text messages to check in on her over the past few months, so the fact that she’s in the country and Kay’s only finding out about it now makes her wonder what’s going on.

Kay goes to meet with Maya at the detention center with Phoenix, and kind of gets overly excited when she sees that Maya is channeling Mia because if you remember, she looked up Mia. Mia was an idol for her. So getting to meet her -- even if it is through spirit channeling -- is the highlight of her week.

And then we get to the trial. Phoenix asks Kay if she wants to stand co-counsel and Kay immediately jumps at the chance to say yes. So this is technically her first trial (she’s excited for it, but a little bit sad that Miles isn’t there to see her). Franziska, on the other hand, is surprised that Kay is standing at the defense’s bench with Phoenix Wright, leading to a lot of things including seeing Kay as a traitor (reason why will be explained later.)

So, Kay stands in for Pearl as co-counsel. As a result, her spirit channeling abilities are not revealed until much later. In the second trial day, she’s not present due to Gumshoe’s intervention and keeping her busy (something which Pearl agrees to so long as Kay and Phoenix get Maya a Not Guilty).

The investigation moments are full of small bonding moments between Phoenix and Kay as they get to know each other a bit better.

So, Team Wright-Faraday get a Not Guilty verdict as promised. Kay’s super proud of herself for managing to do this and it puts her on cloud nine. Franziska only believes that Phoenix won because he had a semi-competent co-counsel with him (Aunt Fran starting to show that she’s proud of Kay a little bit, but is still incredibly pissed that she lost.) Overall, she isn’t sure how to feel about Kay in that moment, and it all comes down to one simple reason:

This is the first time Kay has smiled in months. Everyone who knows her is relieved to see it back.

After the case is closed, Maya does thank Kay for helping and Kay in return does try to cheer her up after the whole “morgan stabbed maya in the back” thing starts to settle in. Am I saying Maya and Kay friendship? Maya and Kay friendship. It starts here.

So, things are starting to look a little bit better for Kay.

The Lost Turnabout

It’s not... Kay’s not involved in this one. Teenage shenanigans happen here as the new school year at Themis starts up.

The first day of school is always pretty easy, but it gets pretty depressing for Kay when one of her professors decides a good idea to break the ice by talking about some of the more ridiculous things that have happened in court cases. It gets the class laughing, and isn’t a bad idea...

Unfortunately for Kay, though, the professor also brings up a certain defense attorney cross-examining a parrot. The memory of that trial brings up a whole lot of feelings for Kay and she just kind of falls quiet for the rest of the day.

But luckily, Klavier and Sebastian have known Kay for a year now, and they realize something’s wrong. So they (primarily Klavier, since he instigates the whole thing) decide to do something about it and distract her. Here is where teenage shenanigans come about.

Just wholesome fun with what is slowly becoming a favorite chaotic trio that ends with everyone collapsed on a couch with an old movie playing in the background. ...and possibly a few appearances from other characters. Who knows?

Kay only finds out about Phoenix’s trial after the fact from Maya, and she’s not sure whether to be impressed that Phoenix managed to do all that with amnesia or laugh about it. She decides to do both.

Turnabout Big Top

It all starts with Phoenix going from ace attorney to ace babysitter as he’s in charge of four teenagers and one small child. Over the past few months, he’s gotten acquainted with Klavier and Sebastian as well, especially after the trio used the Wright & Co. Law Offices as their own personal hangout spot to get homework done and hide out when needed (thank you Kay).

The only reason Kay is brought on as co-counsel for this case is because a: its winter break so she doesn’t have school to worry about and b: the time frame is the same as when Miles was arrested the year prior. If Phoenix is having a rough time, then so is Kay. Especially since this will also be her first birthday since the whole incident. She’s also at Wright & Co. for the same reason when Maya calls up with the case.

This case is not the best distraction for Kay, but at least its something. Lesson learned: as a lawyer, you gotta take the good with the frustrating. Things get worse with Franziska prosecuting again. Kay still doesn’t get what’s up with her and why she’s still getting called a traitor.

The boys are also in on this case because why not, though they don’t stand as co-counsel but rather just help with the investigation. Because we all know that Kristoph and Blaise wouldn’t agree to them standing on the defense’s side, one more than the other.

Kay openly admitting to getting a headache while trying to figure out what the heck is actually going on during the first trial day. She grew up with the Master of Logic himself, so trying to make sense of this without all the information is making her head run in circles. But she’s not going to give up.

It’s revealed when Franziska confronts Phoenix & Co. outside of the lodging house later that day that the reason Franziska calls Kay a traitor is that she deliberately is siding with the man responsible for Miles’s “death”, something that she never thought Kay would do.

Kay never blames Phoenix for what happened to Miles. She mostly blames Gant (and von Karma somewhat) for it. They were the ones who pushed him, not Phoenix. So, when Franziska openly blames Phoenix for what happened, Kay gets pretty pissed. 

When Phoenix and Maya continue their investigation, Kay goes to confront Franziska on that matter and just goes off. Months of bottled up emotions just kind of explode outward, and Franziska is the unfortunate target of it all. This blow-up is also the first time that Kay refers to Miles as her dad. Which hits pretty hard. Franziska starts regretting a few choices she’s made today. Klavier and Sebastian pull her away as she starts to break down.

So they just... let her cry it out in the circus’s cafeteria. They end up being the ones who find out about the incident with the lion (once Kay’s calmed down) rather that Phoenix and Maya. The story has them racing over to them, catching the duo just as they’re about to enter Acro’s room and things go about pretty much the same way they do canonically from there.

The next day is a bit hard, and its easy to pick up on the tension between Kay and Franziska here. Taking a page out of the anime, Kay, Klavier, a reluctant Sebastian and Maya recreating the crime for the entire court. She does feel bad about having to indict Acro, though, due to the circumstances surrounding everything.

Kay does a pretty good job, something which Gumshoe relays as a message to her, at the end of the trial, much to her surprise. Who else would be proud of her is something that she wants to know.

Meanwhile, Miles Edgeworth wonders how he’s going to tell his daughter that he’s still alive upon his return to the country. (and yes, he was the one who told gumshoe to tell kay that he was proud of her)

Farewell, My Turnabout

So, Kay at this point still doesn’t know that Miles is alive. He wants to get everything settled before he makes any grand reveals to anyone. He’s also still trying to figure out how to do it since that wasn’t supposed to happen. Kay wasn’t supposed to think he was dead. He told her that he was leaving, sure, but Kay was also half-asleep when he did. So, misunderstandings~

Meanwhile, Phoenix takes the girls (Maya, Pearl and Kay) to the Hero of Heroes Grand Prix. Kay’s gotten decently close to the members of Wright & Co. over the past few months, that much is clear by now.

Kay gets upset about Corrida’s murder because ya know. Jammin’ Ninja fan. She hopes that Engrade gets locked away for doing it. Maya thinks she just doesn’t like the Nickel Samurai, which isn’t that far off. Kay just doesn’t like Engarde thanks to reading Klavier’s tabloid magazines. She never gets to explain the contents of those magazines, though. Phoenix finds out about them later.

Things take a sharp turn when Maya is called to the front desk to answer her “call”. Kay goes with Maya because ya know. Buddy system. (”girls don’t let each other go anywhere alone, nick!” “*sigh* i will never understand teenagers...”)  i think. you know. where this about to go--

So, yeah. Kay gets kidnapped alongside Maya. She puts up a pretty decent fight against de Killer (look at the people she was around growing up, Kay probably does know a little self-defense), but in the end, she still gets ‘napped. And so, Phoenix has to defend Engarde or the two girls will “disappear”.

Things are made worse, as Phoenix is accosted by two teenage boys who can’t get in touch with their third musketeer who didn’t show up for school that day. He’s just trying to do his job, but Klavier and Sebastian are really stubborn and will not leave him alone.

And everything gets worse when Miles makes his grand revival. And then is made the prosecutor for this case. So, Phoenix is not having a very good week at all.

Phoenix and Gumshoe are doing the best to keep the fact that the girls are being held hostage from Edgeworth and the boys. Emphasis on try. All three know that there’s something going on, but they can’t figure out what.

Meanwhile, Kay and Maya are in a wine cellar. Kay has tried several times to break down the door, but it hasn’t worked. de Killer took their phones, so they have no way of contacting the outside. They’re screwed unless they can escape.

Maya realizes that they do have a way to contact the outside and uses her spirit channeling powers to contact Mia, and with Kay’s help manages to explain what’s going on and giving a message to Mia to give to Phoenix.

So, Pearl finally reveals her spirit channeling powers. It freaks Phoenix out at first, but he gets over it quickly because at this point, he’s kind of used to Fey Family Weirdness.

The first part of the trial goes on as pretty much the same as it did before. Afterwards, Phoenix does his best to keep the fact that the girls are kidnapped from Miles because he’s gonna flip the fuck out. And he fails. And Miles kind of does flip out.

So, de Killer and Engarde (more so de Killer because he did his research, he knows the connection with Kay that Edgeworth has) have two pawns to work with and dangle over both the prosecution and defense. And now Edgeworth has two assistants on his side: Sebastian and Klavier, who don’t want to see Kay hurt. However, as future prosecutors, they can’t do much to help Phoenix. So, they help out with the investigation (and using the excuse as this being extra credit for anyone who asks why there are two teenagers here.)

On the other side, Maya and Kay break out of the room they were locked in thanks to a card Maya finds. Things go about as well as they do canonically, but with more struggle. Kay makes a fucking mess trying to defend herself and Maya from de Killer, which will later show the police that something definitely went down here (and concerning the heck out of a good handful of people in the process).

Kay may not know the truth about the Yatagarasu yet, but she sure is acting like the Yatagarasu.

The investigation goes about as well as you expect it to. Klavier and Sebastian are doing their best, but they can’t do much since they’re still only students. And Miles is worried as hell for Kay and ends up wanting to tear Engarde apart. Klavier is right to not like Engarde, as was Kay earlier.

When the trial starts up again, you have both the prosecution, the defense and a few members of the gallery nervous as hell. Gumshoe is doing his best to find the girls, but Miles and Phoenix still need to stall for time.

They do their best, but things are going about as well as they do canonically with Edgeworth being more on edge due to Kay being in danger. And the last time he saw her was when he left. So, he wants to be able to reconcile with her.

Things go on much like they do in canon. The note, Gumshoe’s accident, etc. Mia’s with Kay, doing her best to help, but she’s not sure what more she can do because the girls are weak and tired from being held captive for so long.

More worry on both parts.

When de Killer threatens to kill Maya and Kay when Edgeworth and Phoenix press him and try to get more time, Miles is also there to beg him to leave them alone. This is also the first time that Miles openly refers to Kay as his daughter.

Not much is different there out. They manage to expose Engarde as the asshole that he is, the girls are released and Engarde is declared guilty.

The scene with Franziska at the airport and Phoenix giving Miles the whip takes place a bit earlier, as that’s where Miles goes first before going to meet with Kay. Because he’s still trying to figure out how he’s going to talk to Kay again.

Phoenix and the others meet Maya and Kay at the hospital (Kay and Maya were held captive without much food or water for about three days, and Kay has a few minor injuries from de Killer, so they do need medical attention). Maya has a tearful reunion with Mia (as channeled by Pearl), and Kay gets tackled by her friends on both sides.

And then Miles Edgeworth walks into the room a short while later and Kay does not know what to say. She thought that he was dead for over a year, and a lot of things start bubbling to the surface. She starts tearing up because she thought she would never see Miles again, and he with her.

As soon as he gets close enough, Kay hugs him and calls him stupid in a couple different ways. Miles accepts it and apologizes for making her worry. He promises not to vanish like that again, and returns the promise that Kay made in part 2: to not keep secrets from her again.

So, what they didn’t get at the end of part 2, Miles and Kay finally get at the end of JfA: a chance to actually rebuild and reconcile their relationship without anything getting in the way.

So Justice for All ends on a pretty good note.

That may be the end of Justice for All, but it’s not the end of the story. There are still more ripples to come and fun shenanigans.

[thethoughtsfromthreeam]

Monument Woman

Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)

Warnings: Talk of death and illness

A/N: I’ll be on vacation this week, but I’m hoping to post weekly - Thursdays as reblogs of the previous chapter, Fridays around 6pm EST new chapters, and Saturdays as next day reblogs.  And then posting when ever I so choose for one shots and drabbles.

Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.

Tag List:

@zeldasayer​ , @beskars​ , @coolmaybelateruniverse​ , @the-feckless-wonder​ , @pascalisthepunkest​ , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501​ , @fioccodineveautunnale​  , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ , @lilkermit14​ , @tortles [please message me to be added or subtracted]

Part 3 – The Clock is the Enemy

“What a beautiful day, Rosie.”  Robert’s smile was small, but evident. He laid back in the patio chair with a blanket around his shoulders.  The normally oppressive summer heat of August had been milder this year, but Robert was always cold now.  His shoulders hunched over under the heavy cotton fabric, as if the weight of the world were on them.

She looked over at him from inside the kitchen and smiled, glad that he was feeling more energetic today then he had been the last couple of weeks. She had taken him to the doctor this morning and the news was grim – mere weeks were probably left for Robert and her heart clenched as she realized she had to watch yet another person she loved slowly die in front of her.  Tears sprung in her eyes and she quickly looked away so he couldn’t see them.

She stood at the stove waiting for the coffee to finish, her hands tapping the side of the brightly decorated mug in front of her.  Since his confession months ago about his diagnosis, she spent as much time with him as she could, helping him as he got his affairs in order.  Last week, she moved in with him as his health took a turn for the worse and he struggled to care for himself.  He felt as if he should have told her no, but he was so grateful for her, he remained quiet on the subject.

When the foam had dissipated, she poured in the cognac and topped it off with a lemon slice – just the way Robert always took his coffee at home. She carried it out on to the porch and sat next to him.  He sipped the hot liquid and smiled.

“You know, my mother drank her coffee like this, too.”  He nodded at Rosemary’s inquisitive look.  He never talked about his family or his existence before Saugatuck, claiming his life here along the coast of Lake Michigan had enough memories to explore for a lifetime.

“I never heard of anyone drinking their coffee like that before I met you.”

“You don’t know a lot of Ukrainians, then.”  He smiled.  “She drank it with more cognac than is probably recommended, but she needed the pep in her step as she headed off to work.”

“What did she do?”

“She taught home ec at a local high school.”  He grinned as Rosemary started to laugh.

“Did she include the coffee recipe in her class?”

“No, but it would have probably helped!”

The two laughed again and soon it petered out to a comfortable silence. The trees waved slightly in the breeze and they could hear the kids down the road shouting and laughing.  The day was perfect and they both soaked it up knowing that these were numbered.

---***---

“Marcus!  I’m so glad you called!”  Hetty Pike’s smile was evident in her tone as she heard her only son’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hi, mom.”  He couldn’t help but grin every time he talked to his mother.  She was a bubbly woman who talked with her hands a lot. When he was a kid, she always held his face in her hands and told him that she loved him, her head shaking as if to reiterate what she said.  When he’d protested the action as a teenager, she told him she’d never stop because it was her duty to know he was always loved.  “Is dad around?”

“Abe!  Abe! Pick up!  Marcus is on the phone!”  He could hear her voice clearly even as she pulled away to call out to her husband.  Pike rolled his eyes with a small smile as he heard his father’s booming voice come over the line, drowning out his much softer mother, who said her good-byes while the two men talked.

“Son!  It’s been ages!  How goes the art thieving?”

“Not bad, dad.  I’m calling because I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

For the next hour, they chatted as Marcus sought out his dad’s advice on various aspects of the reopened cases.  The senior Pike had been an electrician before he retired and often provided advice to the agent on cases where he could, often becoming a sounding board as his son worked verbally through the case.

After walking through a few scenarios, Hetty got back on the line and the three talked about this and that for a while longer before Pike said his good-byes with promises to call more often and to try and come out for his sister’s 40th birthday party next month.

The energy of the phone call dissipated into nothing as Pike stood in his kitchen, the quiet house a stark contrast to the liveliness he grew up with. He became lost in thought as memories flitted through his brain – happy memories of his parents who were so deeply in love, every day was a chance to prove it to the other; of his sisters and him getting into numerous shenanigans that left them breathless with laughter; of his blue-collar father being proud of his son’s artistic talent and happily attending his shows.

Pike let himself smile a bit before pushing himself off the counter, pocketing his phone as he wandered down the hall into his studio.  He bought the small two-bedroom house in the outskirts of D.C. because its large windows let in tons of natural light, allowing him to set up an in-home studio to indulge his artistic appetite in.

Art had always been Marcus’ passion and something he had been good at since he was quite young.  He was proud that he could parlay that passion into a career.  He didn’t do anything professionally, instead choosing to let his talent serve as a distraction from the stress of real life. As he sat in front of the blank canvas, his hands rested in his lap, fiddling with the pencil.

By this time, his brain was creating a mash up of his memories and Carmichael’s words from some months ago.  He hadn’t been on a date since the last time he was stood up, but no matter how much he hardened his heart, he still yearned for someone to love, the kind that his parents had.  The kind he thought he had with his first wife, then Lisbon, then Eleanor and Carrie and Sumata.

It seems the only place he could express his heart freely and without pain was on the canvas.  He shook his head as he turned on his playlist and let himself get lost in the one place that he could be himself with no judgement.

---***---

Several Days Later

“Helen?”  The director looked up from her desk and looked startled at the pale woman standing in front of her.  She immediately rose and skirted the desk to take Rosemary in her arms, giving her a warm hug.  She felt the younger woman’s arms snake around her waist, and she continued to hold her as sudden sobs wracked the body pressed against her own.  They stood like that for many long minutes before Rosemary pulled away and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.

The two women sat down in the office chairs and Helen took Rosemary’s hand again, noticing the slight tremors she failed to feel before.  She squeezed slightly and waited.

“Helen, I need to take some time off.  Robert is getting worse and I don’t want to leave him alone right now. I know I have vacation. . .” Helen cut her off.

“Take all the time you need.  I know this has been hard for you, don’t worry about us here.  We’re fine.  Marquetta can handle anything that comes in for you and I’ll take over the programs you are scheduled to work.  You need to focus on you and Robert.”  She didn’t say it, but the and your good-byes hung in the air between them.

“Okay.  Thank you.” Rosemary stood on shaky legs and they hugged again before she went to her office.  Despite the grief that hung around her neck like an albatross, she set her away message on her voicemail and email before packing a few things up for Banana.  The dog had gone with her to Robert’s and the mutt spent his days sleeping against Robert’s frail form, providing a steady stream of warmth and companionship when Rosemary was at work.

After looking around her neatened desk, she walked to her workshop and glanced around there.  She left a few notes for Marquetta on some projects that needed to be completed before walking over to her locked cabinet.  She pulled out her keys and opened it, glancing at the bronze sculpture housed inside.  She looked at it for a bit longer before closing the doors again.  It was still on her to-do list but it was going to have to wait; Helen knew it was there, but only Rosemary had access.  With the turn of her key, she left the museum to focus on the one person who needed her the most.

---***---

Three weeks later

The day was a sunny one, the sky a deep azure blue that spoke of the coming fall and as he laid in bed with the windows open, Robert took as deep a breath as his lungs would let him.  He loved Saugatuck in the fall – the leaves, the roadside stands that popped up as the harvest came to fruition, and he loved to decorate the store as Halloween grew closer.

He let himself get lost in the memories of the past for a moment before forcing himself to focus on the paperwork in front of him.  His lawyer had dropped off a new copy of his will and testament and Robert carefully read everything before signing it.  Even as he laid there dying, there was something about signing the will that created a finality to it all.

As he sealed the envelope and sent a text to the lawyer to come pick it up, he heard Rosemary enter the house.  He could smell food and for the first time in days, he felt his stomach grumble in hunger.  He began to push himself out of bed when Rosemary enter the room and frowned at him.

“Get back in bed.”  Her tone was firm, but gentle.

“I can get up; I’m not going to eat in my bed.”  Robert grumbled as she walked over and gently pressed him back into the pillows.  Rosemary was only a couple of inches shorter than his six-foot frame, but with his body becoming weaker, she seemed taller and stronger than she ever had before to him.

“You’re going to stay here.  I don’t need you falling like you did yesterday and scaring the bejesus out of me.”  Rosemary wandered back into the kitchen, pulling out the take-out boxes from Coral Gables.  She arranged everything on a tray and took it into the bedroom.  Just as she set everything down, a knock came at the door.  She walked back towards the front of the house, seeing a woman standing on the other side of the screen door.

“Fern!”  Rosemary was surprised to see her close friend on the porch, her voice rising in excitement.  They hugged and Fern made sure to squeeze her poor friend a little harder than usual. They broke apart.  “What are you doing here?”

“Robert is one of my clients.  I dropped off some paperwork for him earlier and he told me to come pick them up.  Sorry to interrupt dinner.”

“Never!  Come in, I bought more than enough, and he won’t eat that much.”  Rosemary’s voice dropped a little and she smiled slightly as a friendly hand rested on her wrist.  “Anyway, please stay and join us.”

Fern nodded and walked into the house towards the bedroom as Rosemary ran to get more plates and silverware.  When she entered the room, the two were in discussion, their voices low and serious.  The conversation stopped as she walked up to them and both smiled at her.

The three sat and ate, enjoying each other’s company and Rosemary noted that Robert ate more than he usually did, which made her feel better. Fern stayed long after dinner was over and as Robert dozed off, the two women continued to visit, but moved the conversation into the living room.  

They had been friends for several years, meeting after bumping into each other at Robert’s store.  Soon their duo became a quartet as local banker Amy met them at a local charity event and Rosemary’s old college friend Tina joined them as she set up her vet practice in Douglas, just south of the town.  The three women had been worried about Rosemary for weeks, visiting where they could and keeping a lively group text going.

When she realized it was midnight, Fern took her leave and Rosemary cleaned up the kitchen.  She walked into Robert’s bedroom to check on him.  He woke up when he heard her and smiled.  She touched his shoulder and sat in the chair next to his bed, the place she spent the most time in these days.

“I’m sorry I woke you.  How are you feeling?”  He reached out to pat her hand and she held it as tight as she dared.  He was so pale, as if he were fading away from her in front of her very eyes.

“Like death warmed over.”  The chuckle sounded strained as his breathing continued to be hard for him.  “Rosie, I never said it, but I’m glad you’re here.”

“I always make time for you, Robert.  You know that.”

“And dinner is always Coral Gables.”

“Exactly.  Tradition.”

“Tradition.”  Robert coughed hard and heavy.  He took the tissue she handed to him and wiped the spittle from his mouth.  “A good historian loves tradition.”

“And the story it tells.”  She sat back and watched him.  He suddenly looked at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time.

“Rosie, are you happy?”  She looked at him, surprise on her face.  “I mean in general.  I’ve never seen you date anyone long term, you hardly go on vacation.  You work a lot.  Are you happy?”

“I guess?  I don’t know. I love my work, I have the girls, I have you.  And yeah, sure I could do with more vacation time, but who doesn’t?”  She looked away, focusing on the window, although it was too dark to see. “Dating is. . .  It’s not easy and most men don’t seem to appreciate my odd hours.  Or I’m too tall.  Or I’m too loud.  And I’d rather be single and happy than in a relationship and miserable.”

“That’s fair.”  He smiled. “What happened to that doctor in Kalamazoo?”

“Him?”  She wrinkled her nose.  “God, he was a massive asshole.  Ego the size of the Grand Canyon.  I went on two dates with him and had enough.”

Robert laugh slightly before sighing.

“I just worry about you Rose.  I don’t want you to be alone when I’m gone.  I want you to live a happy life, full of love that you deserve.  Promise me that you’ll make time for that.”

“I promise, Robert.”  She smiled as his eyes drooped closed, his soft snores starting almost immediately. She set back in the chair, propping her feet up on the edge of the bed to watch him until sleep came to claim her.

[hellimagines]

18 Months (Epilogue Headcanons) — Michael Langdon

Here is the official final part of 18 Months. It’s been a journey.

After Michael proposes to you, the two of you sneak off to the oh-to familiar bed down the hall

Gallant sleeps on the couch with earplugs, blasting music he hasn’t gotten to listen to in almost two years, and catching up on all the things he ‘missed’

(Its all fake celebrity news and fashion trends at this point, the universe trying to fill in the blanks Michael left behind)

The wedding is planned for Halloween of next year- all three of you need time to get accustomed to life once again (and you discreetly wanna be able to invite some of the homies from Murder House, but to do so, you’ve gotta convince everyone to make amends)

Gallant takes over the salon in full, putting his name on the front of the building with encouragement from you

You’re the one to keep him sober and on track, wanting to prove Evie wrong in the after life

Michael rebuilds The Cooperative, but it’s different this time, because he knows better than to destroy the world

The Cooperative is now a sort of... hit-man agency for assholes in power (🙄🙄). Michael and you use The Cooperative to weed out everyone that could potentially cause the apocalypse, now that you know exactly what will happen if it does happen. You’re basically Angels of Merch but low key and won’t admit it (Gallant stays out of that bullshit)

You, Michael, and Gallant get into so many fucking fights about where you’ll live (but everyone agrees no on Hawthorne). You wanna live in Murder House so you can rekindle everyone and it’s a total aesthetic. Gallant wants to live in his Nana’s mansion because ‘it’s fucking huge Y/N!!! You’re being d u m b, pack your bags and let’s go’. Michael wants Mead’s small house but he also wants Robichaux’s bc it’s in New Orleans and means a lot to him (sentimental fuck).

You guys rock paper scissor for it (“Don’t use your guys’ magic or I’ll fucking cry”)

You choose rock, Gallant chooses scissors, and Michael chooses paper

It’s hell for the whole day

Until finally you manage to sit everyone down over dinner and explain to them why you think Murder House is the best option (“Y/N it’s called murder house you’re fucking trippin”)

Despite all the comments, side eyes, huffs, scoffs, and groans... you win. You all decide to finally leave The Ritz and move into Murder House- But the boys still keep the deeds to their respective homes, and you Robichaux.

Moving into MH is... a hassle to say the least. The second Michael steps foot through the door, Tate is there (Gallant fucking screams “WHY DOES HE HAVE MY FACE”)

Tate and Michael get in a yelling match that you’re trying to referee, until finally, you just kinda... scream. It scares Michael so bad bc he thinks you’re hurt, and he body checks Tate out of the way (Tate doesn’t think you’re half bad)

Things are tense and awkward the first few days (Gallant nearly refuses to pee bc “y/n they’re gonna watch” and you refuse to shower bc “Michael they’re gonna watch” and Michael has a headache)

But within a month, things are alright. You’ve befriended Rose and Tate right off the bat (respectively told Constance to “get fucked”) and caught Nora up to speed on today’s events. Everyone is #shook she likes you

Gallant hates Chad, never says why, but just know that he does. He prefers Violet and Vivian, and the occasional Ben (“I’m a slut for Harmon’s I guess” “guess I’m a slut for Langdons then. What’s Michael a slut for?” “You, red eyeshadow, and wearing his fuCKING SHOES IN THE HOUSE”)

Michael doesn’t let you get a job even tho you tried to physically fight him over it once. Instead, you become his partner with The Cooperative shenanigans and organize most of the hits

Everybody thinks you’re in a poly relationship with Gallant and Michael (none of you correct them except Michael sometimes bc he’s confused about what that is)

By the time October rolls around, you’re shaking 24/7 (“I didn’t think I was actually gonna get married” “you said yes did you mean no” “nO! I love you and I wanna get married I just...” “I’ll be right here, don’t worry” “I’d sure fucking hope so”)

Your wedding dress is red (Constance screams) with black rose decals (pretty similar to The Outpost dress, but not quite)

Michael’s suit is red, too, with a black tie (“you wear black suits everyday, switch it up for her” “what do you know Gallant” “fashion that’s what you fucking punk”)

Gallant wears white with a red tie (Constance screams)

Gallant is the best man, obviously, and Madelyn is the maid of honor (she survived the apocalypse... Hannah is nowhere to be seen)

Jeff and Mutt beg on their knees to stand at the alter, so Michael lets them. You let Tate, Rose, and Ben stand on at the alter (read: forced)

The wedding is held at Gallant’s mansion, because it’s the biggest house to your guys’ name with the largest backyard

Somehow

Someway

You and Michael had grown a name-to-fame in the year leading up to the wedding

The place is packed and there’s celebrities (Gallant knows half of them, and you wanna faint bc “oh my god is that Harry styles?????? Michael is that Harry styles?????” “U gonna leave me for him?” “I fucking might” “then no, it’s not”)

The wedding goes smooth as fuck (shockingly). The Satanic Church members are in attendance (with an oath not to call Michael Satan and keep that shit under wraps), certain Murder House tenants (“I don’t wanna carpool”), and of course, Gallant’s celebrity bitches

Gallant does yours AND Michael’s hair, and it’s truly spectacular

You and Michael make your own vows, and don’t have a priest (confuses ppl but they don’t care bc the food is g r e a t and the aesthetic is perfect for pictures)

Gallant cries his eyes out. Madelyn looks proud as fuck. Jeff and Mutt look smug (especially Jeff. If he talks to anyone that night it’s “I’m the reason they’re married. Don’t forget that”)

Even though you’re now legally (Y/N) Langdon, and no longer have Foxx anywhere near your name, Michael still calls you that on the daily

You get a tattoo of a fox on your shoulder for his birthday, with ‘don’t tell me what to do’ scrawled on the bottom

Gallant goes with you to get it down, and he and Tate are the only ones who know about it, because nobody else in the house can keep a secret AND Tate helped draw the fox (it’s a typical red fox, but on a red and black backdrop that kinda looks like a moon [“Jesus get a new color scheme y/n” “suck my ass Tate you look like that bitch from blues clues”] but the fox has one (e/c) eye and one blue, and tiny horns poking out of his head)

For Michael’s birthday, you go to Ms. Mead’s home so you can be alone

Michael is sat patiently on the bed, tapping his bare thigh while watching you strip down

“I have a present”

“You are my present some c’m here”

“No, look”

You turn around slowly, exposing your shoulder. It’s in the spot Michael always rests his head when he holds onto your hips

Michael is off the bed in a second, rushing over to you. He traces the design carefully, like he’s afraid it’ll smudge even tho it’s weeks old (grumpasaurus-Rex sometimes during those weeks when you wouldn’t take your shirt off)

Michael is speechless, and you can feel your blush running from your cheeks to your neck

“It’s fucking beautiful”

“You think so?”

Michael doesn’t respond. He just kisses the tattoo before grabbing onto you and tossing you to the bed

And that, is the end of Langfox’s journey (with Gallant ofc). I tried to tie up as many things as possible, but my askbox is always open for questions, concerns, thoughts, or just love💕🖤❤️ Also, this was written on my phone, so I’m sorry if it looks weird.

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

... apparently, these are becoming a weekly endeavor. (watch me getting an autoblock as soon as I post this) ( AO3 )

tl;dr Hawks is in high spirits (no pun intended), and Rumi’s Intrigued™

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away, a vaguely annoyed Dabi is sneezing a whole lot, questioning whether his feeble ass is allergic to feathers.

(((I almost chose an angsty ending. Almost. But apparently I cannot do that with series and games that are not depression station in the first place, F.)))

“Say… you are in a reeeeeally good mood today, aren'tcha?” Rumi notes between two obnoxious milkshake slurps next to the remaining morsels of their lunch while taking a full round on the revolving barstool. It’s a Monday, it’s a conference day, a boring conference day where she’s about to kill herself out of sheer boredom… and Hawks, who’s usually also only present in body and ready to passive-aggressively tear the thing down, is radiating a hundred different levels and shades of sunlight. Of course she’s gonna jump on this.

“Huh?” the hero replies, returning to the present; the pen he’s got bouncing between two fingers while reading through the despair-inducingly thick paper pile in front of him (most likely invitations and offers of various kinds) never stops in its fast, metronome-like movement. The little smile that's been plastered over his face all day perks up a little as he looks at her, too. He’s obviously missed the question directed at him, but doesn't seem to be bothered by it.

“I said you are in a good fucking mood, twerp,” his friend repeats with a click of the tongue. Something’s definitely up. “And that you didn't catch it is all the damn proof I need. Haven't seen you this well-adjusted since… ever, actually.” Slurrrp.

“Aaah… guess so,” he muses with the rhythm slowing and a thoughtful expression for a change.

“I had the best fucking sleep ‘since ever’ is all.” The pause preceding this is uncharacteristically long, and his persistent smile returns before he even reaches the conclusion.

“You slept?” chortles Rumi in disbelief, then starts choking as some of the remaining milkshake finds its way to her lungs. The plausible fact that this alone could make him feel alive should not be this funny.

Hawks’ smile widens into a grin and he leans onto an elbow, shoving the documents aside. “Seven hours and thirteen whole-ass minutes, bitch. It's a new record!” It wasn't exactly that much, probably just under seven if he wanted to be honest. But point stands.

Once having regained composure, the heroine lets the information linger for a few seconds. Hmm. Hmmm… “Explains why you are functional and were late for the meeting. What it doesn’t explain is how you, Mr. 10 minutes ahead of everyone’s schedule… early bird extraordinaire… slept in.” That goofy expression is not his usual one, no. There's a snoop to be had, here. After a deep, deep, grin-ridden sigh, she turns back to him, leaning on the counter as well. “Has it got anything to do with dodging, like, all of my invitations lately? Hmm?” She wiggles her brows at him.

Man… she just went there, didn't she. Unfortunately, the persistent smile refuses to cover for him. In fact, it's more incriminating than anything, creeping wider once more. Well then. “Hasn't got as much to do with it as you would like, fam. There's only about… 15% of overlap.” Plus some change.

Maybe more, now that he thinks about it… because the disturbingly domestic (and even worse, occasionally comforting and enjoyable) shenanigans with the League have long outgrown the ‘meeting up with actual S-rank villains in my fake free time because spy lmao’ category. Rumi wouldn't buy that anymore, she's seen enough to know that he's full of shit.

There's a glint of a hunter’s in Rumi’s eyes… a hunter’s that has found fresh track. Her grin turns into a triumphant sneer. “So you do admit to seeing someone.”

The smile on Hawks’ face gains a streak of concern. “Please don't make me think about it in those terms,” he moans, furrowing his brows. “Any of the people I've been dealing with are freaks of nature.”

“So are we,” she notes, not missing a beat.

That earns a similarly fast fling-and-point of a pen in her general direction. “Word.”

She snickers. “Come on…! Tell me about that dreamy 15% that has you so pepped. I'm dying to know~”

He thinks about it for a bit. Then, the feathers of Hawks’ wings rustle, and he himself takes a gander around the restaurant; there's mostly heroes, sidekicks and managers gathered in the building in the first place, who are similarly disinterested in each other's dwindling lunch break times and private lives. While assessing the room, he's silently weighing his options as to how much he can say, and how he should choose his words.

“So… I've been roped into a kind of internship in the past months that I wanted nothing to do with, and am still hella iffy about,” he begins, keeping it just low enough for it to be not overly suspicious.

“Good start!”

“I know, right? Anyway… it's dirty work, but turned out to be tolerable, most of the time. The coworkers are all bonkers, but I've already come to the terrifying conclusion that I'm not all that different.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush, I'm telling your story…! Who you might be interested in, I think, is the contact person that keeps a close eye on me even today.”

“OOOH, this is getting spicy~ are they, like, twice your age? You are into older people, after all. Oh, and dude or lady? Other, maybe? You are being really cagey.”

“What did I just say?! Also, I'm not into older people. This peep is up to five years my senior, tops.”

“Never had to listen to yourself when going on about Endeavor, have you!? And see? You just admitted the peeper is older!”

“That’s fan rambling, and ever since I had to work with him, I have held my horses in check, hon. As for the other thing? Honestly, I never asked about their birthday or age, but I've been getting older sib vibes. Could be younger or as old as I am, for all I know. But let me fucking continue. SO… we've been getting along okay lately. Way too well, actually, considering the mutually hostile ~strictly professional~ gig we both started out with. Not that we're not assholes to each other still, but we are… like, frenemies.”

“Strangely mysterious person is already starting to sound like you.”

“…”

“Okay, Pot, okay!! Stop looking all disappointed and tell me about Kettle.”

“… Kettle will be a great stand-in name, thanks for the contribution. You are allowed to acknowledge this with a hum.”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent. Back on topic… as you know, my yesterday… had been a thing.” For the first time that day, the smile disappears entirely.

Rumi hums again with a nod, which doesn't get shot down. From what Hawks was willing to share about family, it had been obvious that he wasn't on particularly good terms with his parents in the first place, but…

“Long story short, yesterday was also internship day, and I was in a pretty bad mood when we met. Tired, anxious, angry, you name it, I had it. Thankfully there's no news coverage, and I didn't want to bring it up, either… but Kettle… knows me well enough to tell when I’m faking it. And how to push my buttons. The prodding got the best of me, eventually; really, this irritating bitch can get under my skin with an efficiency you can only dream of… but anyway, I was so pissed... like, borderline feral, that even they were surprised. Which, in turn, made me feel like a wreck once I realized what I was doing. So they hammered the last nail into the coffin by putting on their calmest, most civil face, -a rarity, really,- to ask the single, logical question in that situation. And I caved. For a dreadful moment I honest to god thought Kettle would make fun of me, you know. What kind of number two hero has their mother stuck in detox every three months…? Fuck, if not for the bar fight, I wouldn't even know she relapsed two whole years ago already! But, uh… they… seemed to understand. We had a therapy session for peasants at my place, then. Kinda like what we have sometimes. And that's when it really got…” Tongue click. “… heavy.”

Rumi’s ears have been attentive and alert, but hearing this makes them part. She takes a second-long break; there's something that usually helps Hawks sleep a little better. And heart-to-hearts tend to push him over the brink, hell, some nights they do this just so he can get some rest. “… You cried.”

With some delay, he nods. “… I did.”

She lets out a tired sigh. “Managed to weird ‘em out, huh.”

“Actually… it ended up being a half drunk weeping contest for the emotionally constipated,” he muses, eyes staring into a scene from the past, located somewhere past the pen in his right hand. “They opened up a little to me, too. Which was new, but… comforting. I learned that while my mother frequents the station, Kettle’s mom has been hospitalized with a severe case of mental breakdown since they were a teen. They miss her… but cannot visit. They fear that showing their scarred face would make her relive the freak show that resulted in her being sent there in the first place.”

“ … Jesus. Both of you sound like the life of the party when running a hashtag-mood.”

The remark brings back the shadow of his happy smile. “I guess so. But, guess what?”

Hers returns as well; they reached the nice part. “What?”

“I ended up leaning onto Kettle… and them onto me. We hugged it out… and stayed like that for like an hour, the sniffling messes we were. And in the morning… I woke up in the arms of someone, warm and safe… sun shining into the room, little bastard relatives chirping outside. I could even smell fresh coffee being made someplace, coming from the open window. And that… that felt divine.”

Rumi takes a delighted sigh. “The life, bitch. That's… the life.”

“Yeah.”

They lie around like that for a few minutes, sprawled on the counter as the noises of the still busy restaurant creep back into their little bubble before it inevitably pops. Hawks breaks the comfortable silence then. “All in all… I admit that you have been right about me all along.”

Her feet bounce an increasingly impatient rhythm against the metal frame as her mood and blood pressure lift back to normal. “Right about what? You are a felon for not supporting pugs, an abomination for even daring to look at pineapple pizza, and an absolute disgrace for turning down ghost peppers! Be more clear, dammit.”

Hawks tosses the long forgotten pen onto the form pile and leans in closer, hiding his mouth with his hands from view. He breathes it in a whisper so low, only people with superhuman hearing or big ole rabbit ears could catch his voice right now. It’s time to make her day, too. “Rumi, I think… I'm hella gay.”

She reflexively does a little hop on the stool as a very high pitched “Holy shit…!” escapes her mouth, turning some heads. Seeing that it's the two of them up to their usual shenanigans, the few people return to their own worries and discussions.

It takes her inhuman effort not to screech like a hare on the spot; punching the air and gasping for it, she calms down eventually. Having found a semblance of self-restraint, she leans back down in, aggressively whispering to him: “First of all, told you so, and more importantly!! Bitch, you're in love, and didn't tell me?!”

As much as Hawks enjoyed watching her outburst, he finds himself sinking behind his arms now. The incessant grin is back in its full glory and is starting to hurt his cheeks, which have turned very pink in color. An unconvincing “nah” is the only thing he can muster.

Rumi breaks into some light-hearted cackling as she moves over, then gently peels Hawks’ defenses off of him to have a closer look. “Bruuuh…! You are in full rose textured shojo manga mode. That's adorable.”

There’s an attempt at rebuilding said defenses. “Shut it, you overgrown furry.”

She’s unperturbed by the lukewarm defensive taunt. “And you kinda smell like smoke from up close, too~ It’s your first love, right? Aaah, baby boy’s growing up, I’m so happy for you…!” With that, Hawks receives a spine shattering hug.

“Rumimyribs,” is all he can squeak before the gesture does more than just some joint popping. He’s had a near-death experience with these ever since the first time she did that, holy shit.

“Hee hee~ I didn’t forget you’ve got bones made of glass, don’t worry.” She pops back down onto her seat while Hawks gets over the scare. “Sooo... when are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“It’s… just a crush, man. He’s… not my boyfriend…” Even thinking about it feels weird… and saying it… really is something else.

She nods. “He doesn’t know it yet! Gotcha.”

Siiigh. “Girl, I can’t just…” STOP, stop… hold the damn phone right there. Ending that sentence would birth more questions to dodge, and he’s not up for brain work at the moment. With a dismissive wave, Hawks restarts the answer. “Anyway, you've seen him already at the very least, so there’s that.” That's all she needs to know- they both know a number of people with fucked-up faces, she won’t admit possibly having missed him, and this… will destroy her.

“… well shit. Now I'll stay up at night wondering who the fuck it might be.”

Bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” she huffs, swatting his hair before settling for a good ruffling. “… say, baby bird.”

“Hm?”

“Want a drink? It's on me. Let's pop one in honor of your heart throb and first crush.”

... uh-oh. “… Rumi.”

“I hope you know this calls for some supreme shit… let me look for a good place nearby, for after this hell is over.”

She's already typing into her phone. Oh no.

“Rumi.” This does not bode well. He has so much shit to do tomorrow. And here’s this pile of junk, most of which he’s yet to have a look at…

“How’s a Zombie sound?”

“RUMI,,,”

[drowning-in-dennor]

Celebration

 A one-shot I wrote for Norway’s birthday. Dennor, Sufin, an exhausted writer who did a lot of research.

Disclaimer: There is no guarantee that this fanfic will be good, or that you will like it. 

 He almost forgets his birthday. What makes him remember is a rude awakening, in the middle of the night.

 Norway’s phone screams for his attention the moment his clock reads 12:00 a.m., blaring its shrill tune and startling him off his bed.

 Cursing himself for forgetting to mute his phone before sleeping, Norway accepts the call and, trying to hide the sleepiness in his voice, says, “Hello?”

 “Happy birthday!”

 He drops his phone, ears ringing. Denmark’s voice is echoing again, again, again in his head, and he’s confused. Norway picks up his phone, and, yawning, asks, “What?”

 “Oh, how did you forget? It’s your birthday today, Nor, and I called to celebrate!”

 Wondering how Denmark can sound so energetic in the middle of the damn night, Norway turns on his lamp and glances at the calendar on his desk. Oh, it’s the seventeenth of May. His constitution day. And his birthday. “Thank you, but why the hell are you calling now?”

 “So we can celebrate the moment you become independent, and stuff!”

 “So you decide to call when I’m asleep, scaring the crap out of me instead of visiting or calling at a reasonable hour, like a normal human being?”

 “Exactly!”

 Norway sighs, stifling another yawn. “I’m going back to sleep. Don’t call or visit again until it’s at least 8 o’clock in the morning, or I’ll take your axe and behead you with it. Now good night.”

 He hangs up before Denmark can reply.

…

 Iceland calls at nine in the morning, while Norway is preparing for a speech he’ll give later at borgertog, the citizens’ parade. One hand holding his cell phone, the other scribbling notes on cue cards, the nation answers the phone. “Hello, Ice.”

 “Happy birthday.”

 “I didn’t think you’d call today. Denmark woke me up at midnight reminding me about it. I would’ve forgotten if not for that.”

 Silence on the other end.

 “...Ice?”

 He hears squawks, the beating of wings and Iceland shouting. “For heaven’s sake, Mr. Puffin, get off! No, that’s mine! Get — argh!”

 On the other side, something drops to the ground with a thump and Iceland starts talking again. “Sorry, Norway. Mr. Puffin was trying to eat my bag. Oh, and by the way, I’m flying over this afternoon to join the parade.”

 “Really?” Norway’s mouth twitches with the threat of a smile. “Thank you, Ice. I’ll get you some liquorice when you arrive. Until then?”

 “Yeah. See you.”

 Iceland hangs up, and Norway turns back to his cue cards, humming a tune.

…

 He watches the childrens’ parade from his bedroom window, laughing softly at the kindergarteners and elementary schoolers flooding the streets of Oslo with their loud rendition of his anthem. Middle schoolers lead the way, some waving their school’s banner and others waving his flag.

 One cluster of students is the loudest, jumping up and down and cheering. The oldest of the group seem to be barely twelve, dressed in red and blue and white and shouting in joy. Squinting at them tells Norway that the two young boys look rather familiar — one with bright blue eyes and golden hair, the other one a green-eyed redhead.

 Sealand and Ladonia?

 As though on cue, his phone rings again. He picks it up. It’s Finland.

 “Hei, Nor! Happy national day! We’re walking through Oslo right now, almost at your house! How are things?”

 “I think the kids snuck into the childrens’ parade.”

 “What?”

 “I think I saw Sealand and Ladonia with a group of students in the childrens’ parade.”

  Finland’s voice goes muffled for a while as he yells for his husband. “Ber?” Norway hears. “Ber, where are Peter and Niklas? Wait, they’re not with you? Oh, sh—” His voice grows loud again. “Sorry, Nor, I need to go. We’ll be at your house by lunch!”

 The family shows up at eleven o’clock, as Norway is stirring a pot of brun lapskaus on his stove. Sealand and Ladonia are still dressed in their parade clothes, walking into the dining room with shameless grins and holding little Norwegian flags. “Happy birthday!” They chorus, rushing towards Norway and tackling him in a hug.

 Sweden pries the boys off when they appear to be crushing Norway, handing him a small box. “Happy birthday.”

 The box reveals a battered bronze locket, engraved with filigree. Inside is a drawing of him, Denmark and Iceland, all of them a good few centuries older. It’s drawn in ink, on yellowing parchment that’s fraying around the edges.

 “Found it in the attic,” Sweden says. “You left it here long ago.”

 “Thank you, Sweden. I don’t even remember having this, but it’s nice to get it back.” Norway fastens the locket’s chain around his neck and feels the cold metal rest against his heart.

 Ladonia and Sealand each hand him a card, written in messy words with brightly-coloured drawings and Gratulerer med dagen scrawled sloppily on top. The childish gifts remind Norway of Iceland.

 A cloud of steam rising from the pot brings Norway back to his lapskaus, and he turns the stove off. Bringing out bowls from his cupboard, he turns to his guests with a rare smile.

 “Let’s have lunch.”

…

 His doorbell rings halfway through lunch and Iceland is standing in the doorway, bag in one hand and puffin in the other. Norway starts smiling again, and he gets up to hug his younger brother.

 For once, Iceland doesn’t protest and hugs him back, mumbling “happy birthday” under his breath. He pushes a wrinkled package into Norway’s arms with a smile he tries to hide.

 Norway tears the package open and finds a leather-bound book, the pages coming close to falling apart and turning ivory with age. Opening it curiously, his eyes scan over the ink-blotched words and starts to read.

 The stars are bright. The moon is in the sky. Norway showed me the pictures in the sky. They are made of stars.

~

 Today, Denmark fell off a horse. His arm was broken, like glass. Norway fixed his arm. He called him an idiot. What is an idiot?

~

 Denmark and Sweden were fighting today. I heard glass break, and Finland was shouting. It was very loud. Norway stayed with me. He said things will be fine.

 It takes a few moments before Norway realises that it’s a diary — Iceland’s diary, to be exact, one he’s been writing since he was barely even a nation. On and on these entries go, and Norway reads on wistfully as the writing and subjects both grow more mature.

 Sweden and Denmark fought again, like they did so many times before. Norway told me to stay in my room the entire time, but I could hear them. Denmark lost, and I heard him yelling, begging Sweden not to do something. I thought it’d be like the wars the two of them fought before, but apparently not. Denmark came into my room at night, and he said Norway wouldn’t be coming home.

 He didn’t say it, but I think Sweden took Norway with him when he won.

~

 I couldn’t sleep last night. I guess I’m used to Norway and Denmark reading bedtime stories before I go to bed. Denmark didn’t read me any bedtime stories. I heard him crying in his room, when he thought I was asleep. I wanted to go over and tell him it was all okay, but his door was locked.

 He shouted at me when I tried to talk to him, then locked himself in his room. Denmark refused to eat, too, and I can’t get my food down. I’m too used to the three of us sitting at the dining table, talking and laughing. I’m too used to Norway being around.

 I miss him.

 Norway doesn’t realise he’s getting misty-eyed until Iceland hands him a tissue paper, looking slightly sheepish. “So… do you like it?”

 He crushes Iceland in another hug.

…

 The sun is just starting to set when Norway takes his place on the podium at the end of borgertog, cue cards in hand. He clears his throat, looks at the crowd waving flags, and begins to speak.

 The words flow from his mouth almost effortlessly, draft completely forgotten. He talks about the days he conquered and slaughtered with Sweden and Denmark, the years when all of northern Europe was under Denmark’s rule, the times when he and Denmark were in a union. His mind keeps drifting back to him, the nation he’s been with as long as he can remember.

 And to think he couldn’t make it here today…

 Norway’s speech is drawing to a close when he sees a figure make their way towards the front of the crowd, where Sweden, Finland, Iceland and the micronations are standing. Said figure is in a red shirt with a blue-and-white tie, practically bouncing on their feet and with a bright smile Norway knows all too well.

 When he bows and starts to walk away from the podium, Denmark’s cheers rise above everyone else’s.

…

 Denmark takes it upon himself to make dinner, somehow whipping up a batch of sosekjøtt in less than two hours. The five Nordics finish dinner in next to no time, clinking glasses and laughing, waxing nostalgia about the old times. But Norway notices that nobody talks about Kalmar, and certainly not about the treaty in 1814.

 They don’t have cake, instead choosing to share stories. Sweden indulges his sons with stories of their Viking shenanigans, snapping Norway’s spellbooks shut when he tries to show them his magic. Denmark, out of nowhere, bring out his beloved axe, convincing Norway to fish out his ancient mace from a thousand years ago. Denmark shows drawings of his Protest Pig, Norway drawings of his troll. Slowly, gradually, everyone else seems to fade away.

 Sweden and Finland whisk the children away when it’s almost midnight, leaving the house with cheery farewells. Denmark jumps from his seat at that with a grin, hopefully reaching for Norway’s hand. The latter glances at Iceland for a moment, and he stares back. “What? Go spend some alone time with Denmark. The worst that could happen to me out here is if I see your bills and faint out of shock.”

 Norway takes Denmark’s hand and leads him upstairs.

 The two of them shut the door to Norway’s bedroom and sit, side by side, on his bed. Denmark speaks first, his normally loud voice now soft and gentle. “Happy birthday, Norge.”

 Shyly, Norway inches closer until there is no space between him and Denmark. He rests his head on the taller’s shoulder, eyelids drooping in exhaustion. “It’s been two hundred and two years,” he murmurs.

 “Hmm?”

 “Two hundred and two years, since my Constitution was signed.” His eyes close in contentment when Denmark wraps one arm around his waist. “It feels like such a long time ago.”

 “Time really does fly, doesn’t it?” Denmark laughs. “It seems like ages ago when I called you at midnight.”

 “Oh, that. Well, I’m tired again.”

 “Don’t go to sleep yet. I haven’t given you my present yet.”

 Norway straightens up a little, staring into Denmark’s bright blue eyes. “Oh?”

 Before he realises what’s happening, gentle fingers curl under his chin and lift his face up, and Denmark seals their lips in a kiss.

 “I love you,” he whispers against Norway’s lips.

 “I love you too,” Norway whispers back.

A/N: The ending is stupid and cliche, but I’m currently really tired and I need some cheesy Dennor fluff to keep me awake so there you go.

[waywardsignnsa]

@hcppiier •• birthday shenenigans submission

Oh he knew her too well to ever believe she would let her birthday just be a day. Not that he could ever mind the fact she demanded the whole week to be her’s. Appreciate Inaya week ? He was practically the founder and president of proper Inaya worshiping. Though instead of a week he dedicated his entire life to doing so. It was what the woman deserved. So for day one of this special week ? Well of course it was the start of it all ! So it had to be loud, beautiful and breathtaking. Dramatic ? Oh of course it had to be. 

Of course, the day would begin with Zafir being as extra as he can manage to make it. The amount of flowers that were surrounding his beloved when she woke up this morning was a ridiculous amount. As well as him waltzing in with her breakfast – cooked to perfection as her favorite breakfast item should be. Next was a more private session that involved more Inaya worshiping in a more physical way ( for all you nasty people who want to know details, yes he let her sit on his face so there ). But oh that was nothing to the rest of this day.  With the bar still opened, he was definitely going to make an announcement.. he definitely made one. It was when the bar opened, when the creatures came that he spoke. “ Good evening, valuable customers. We have something to celebrate this week ! And that would be my lovely, beautiful, radiant, intelligent, special —” he sighed as he looked over to her, dramatically showing his love for her as he stood as stared at her. “ Hmm.. Oh right, My zawja.. my lovely Inaya’s birthday is this whole week ! ” With that indoor fireworks seemed to exploded over the ceiling of the bar. Confetti falling from unknown sources and disappearing upon a sudden touch. Lights directing their way to shine over Inaya, Zafir grinning as it happened. “ So expect big celebrations this week ! Fun surprises for my one and only. So please .. feel free to add in your own surprises and your own gifts… its mandatory this week for payment of your drinks. And nothing cheap please, only the best for my Queen." 

Was he forcing others to give gifts to his beloved ? Yes, yes he was. Because she was the one for the idea of this bar, so why not worship her, give her proper gratitude like she deserves. And it all begins today. 

Quite frankly if she had thought far enough ahead she would have demanded this entire month to be her own ... but alas, she hadn’t. When you were this old you simply didn’t work too terribly hard to remember your own birthday, though she was very happily reminded the moment she woke up. At first she was unsure just why it was he ws making such a big deal over the breakfast ... when she realized just what it was for, drawing a smile to her lips as she laughed and very happily ate her meal ... and of course shared it with him a bit as well. 

She had her own agenda when she did feed him with her fingertips though, one that she certainly saw through and was more than satisfied in so many ways hours later. As if she would simply be content with just a single moment between the sheets ... oh no, she enjoyed the finer pleasures in life far too much to let it end so quickly. Regardless they certainly spent quite some time just enjoying one another in far less sexual ways before she moved to get herself ready for their night at the bar... 

And certainly didn’t expect just quite how dramatic Zafir was goign to be with this all. Unable to help how her lips seemed to be constantly curled in an amused smile ... though through it all her gaze never once left Zafir. Not even as the magical fireworks went off, illuminating her skin in the various colors for brief moments. 

“Now now, Love-” coming closer to him, she couldn’t help but laugh, coming up to him without hesitation. “Gifts are not manditory ... that’s just bad business-” pausing, she glanced to the crowd filled with mostly regulars that were more than amused with Zafir’s shenanigans. “-but I will not stop you should you choose to give me any ... which you should. It is my birthday after all,” winking at them all the employees used the cue to go through the customers to take the orders while Inaya’s attention once more turned to the man she loved so deeply. “...You’re ridiculous,” she murmured, her hand cupping his face before she leaned forward and kissed him without a single moments of hesitation.

[schoolsquadshenanigans]

Alexia’s Birthday (& Daniel’s too)

An infuriating song broke my peaceful slumber. Groaning, I shot my hand towards my phone to shut off the alarm. God, I’m so tired! Sleeping late last night seemed like a good idea at that time. The effects of it is hitting at me at full force right now. I can barely open my eyes. The doors to my room opening has just threw my thoughts of getting further sleep out of the window. I don’t even need to open my eyes to know that my mom is now marching up to my bed after switching on the lights and turning off my source of comfort. She soon left with a simple ‘Wake up’. Bless her soul letting me wake up at my pace rather than forcing me up at that moment. A nagging feeling bugged my brain, today is important, wasn’t it? There’s something that makes it different than my usual day of school. Then it hit me, quite literally honestly, the present I spent yesterday night preparing fell on my face. It was my friend, Alexia’s, birthday. I was up in that second, me and our friends has planned to go to school early to prepare her surprise at recess. With speed I never knew I possessed, I quickly went through my morning routine and left for school.

Stairs are evil, period. Why did the school have to put my class on the highest floor? Not to mention making us chug back-breaking books and bags. I gracelessly make my way up the stairs, collapsing with a hefty huff at my seat. I sat there catching my breath for a moment before getting up and going to Telie’s class, who thankfully is right next to mine. God help me if I have to climb up and down the stairs again. My earlier bad mood vanished the moment I stepped into the class and laid eyes on the familiar faces of her classmates. I never know what to expect in that classroom, just when you think you have them figured out they just do the most outrages things, I have long given up on finding what was wrong with them. Today they were all cheering while a few guys were taping up a very unamused-looking boy. My eyes then caught the familiar shade of brown shaggy short hair and I immediately approach her. Telie turned the moment I went to her, letting out a cheerful ‘Hey!’, followed by a chorus of greetings from her classmates. I nodded back in response and then asked her about the surprise we’ll be having later. Knowing her I wouldn’t be surprise if she forgot. However, it looks like she did, I would admit that I was a little shocked. Mere moments later our other friend comes bursting through the door, their black hair bouncing as they rushed to us.

“Hey! Are you guys-” momentarily cutting themselves off to spare a glance at the poor boy that was now hobbling around asking for scissors and opening their mouths again to question before stopping once again and shaking their head. “Nevermind, I don’t want to know. Anyways as I was saying, are you guys ready for the birthday surprise? I got the cakes which you guys didn’t help with.” Ah, there’s the sassy, sarcastic psycho we know and love, August.

“Sorry I forgot,” Telie said. August let out a loud sigh.

“I knew it! But that doesn’t explain you!” they exclaimed as they pointed a finger at me.

“You’re early. Didn’t you said to come down at 7:15am? It’s 7:05am last I checked,” I reasoned, smirking while I raised my watch, pointing at the digits displaying there.

“Argh fine! But anyways here, each of you guys take one, I can’t let Daniel see them,” August then brought out the two cakes me and them had choose the day before yesterday and handing it to us. I took Alexia’s while Telie took Daniel’s. I smirked as we got into our usual routine of chatting, the previous malice from August completely gone, and of making fun of each other.

“Oh yeah! I brought some snacks as well,” Telie announced, seeming to just remember it. She went to her bag and brought out a variety of snacks, chocolate bars, candy bars and some chips. I raised an eyebrow, “Wouldn’t the cakes be enough? We don’t have much friends you know.”

“It’s fine,” came her nonchalant reply. Sighing, I picked up a chocolate bar to examine, it’s not the cheap ones you can find in a grocery store, this one was rather high class, I glanced at Telie, silently questioning her. Catching on, she just said she got some left from her trip during the holidays.

An unexpected visitor decided to appear. “Hey guys!” Alexia exclaimed from her position at the open classroom door. All of us shot up, frantically tying hide the poster and cakes from her view. “Alexia! What are you doing here?” August questioned, their voice quivering from nervousness. I faced palmed, they aren’t very good at lying. Though they said what was on everyone’s mind, why was Alexia here? Her classrooms are at the bottom floor and it was clear on how much of a pain she finds the stairs to our classrooms, choosing to not come up before classes at all and only meeting us at recess with the rest of our friend group. Her sudden change in routine caught us off guard, especially when we were planning her surprised birthday party later.

“Oh, I rarely come up after all and decided to see it today. I asked Kuro to join but she didn’t want to. She did seem oddly against me coming up here but didn’t really stop me……” She explained, before turning her attention towards the boy struggling to cut off his restrains with a pair of safety scissors. “How are you guys ignoring this?”

“This is everyday stuff, honestly.” I answered. His hands are starting to turn purple now, with the tape cutting off his circulation. Finally, one of Telie’s friend had enough and moved to help him, finally freeing him from his sticky bind. Alexia, not used to the shenanigans of this class, looked at us incredulously, “I’m missing out on a lot.” We all agreed.

“Oh! Are these chocolates?” She said, picking one up in the process, moving it around to examine it. “Can I have some?”

Telie snatched it from her hand and started peeling the wrappings, “Now is not the time for chocolate,” she says as she scarfs down the chocolate bar in her hand. Rolling my eyes at her usual antics, I picked one up. “You’re insufferable Telie. You can have them at recess later, you are technically breaking the rules, not to mention classes are about to start soon. Better head back down.”

Alexia crossed her arms and left with a pout. Me and August following her out of the door, each heading back to our classes. We exchanged farewells and went back to class. Classes seems to last forever, it was just 3 periods before our recess but I just couldn’t wait. A few of my own classmates gave curious glances at the cake on my table, it is rather attention gaining, but that was all they did. The recess bell finally rung and I took the cake, along with the present I made, with me and went to meet up with Telie. We may our way down and she parted ways with her boyfriend. Holding onto the cake and her plastic bag of snacks, she made her way to our usual table. Kuro and Zoey were already seated there, not going off to buy lunch like how they usually do. Seems the birthday kids aren’t here yet so me and Kuro hid the cakes at our laps. Two of our friends came and greeted us, carrying their plates of food before setting them down and sat down. Our conversation was interrupted with a loud scream of protest, followed by more screams and a softer confused voice.

“NOOOOOOOO,” Alexia screamed

“GET BACK HERE! IT’S OK, TRUST US!” came August’s yell.

“I DON’T!”

“I have no idea what is going on,” Daniel said, walking up to us after the duo ran off from the cantin.

“Alexia! Just put on the blindfold,” Kuro urged, despite her sounding slightly annoyed, her bright grin betrayed it.

“Ugh, Fine!” Alexia exclaimed, defeated. August seemed satisfied and quickly rapped the blindfold on her, and then on Daniel, who only questioned but didn’t seem to mind that much. We set off on action, briskly taking out the cakes and arranging them while our two friends which we forgot to inform, watched us with mild confusion and curiosity, their food lay forgotten on the side. Daniel’s cake looked exactly like its name, Chocolate Forrest. A shiny chocolate glace with cherries and chocolate art on top, swirling like branches. Alexia’s looked like a unicorn threw up over it. Okay, the way I described it didn’t make it sound that appetizing but it was delicious nonetheless. I may or may not have done a taste test on it.

“Okay, you guys can look now,” Telie exclaimed, smile brightening when she saw the look of surprise on their faces. Alexia’s hand already reaching for the ruby macaron on her cake.

“Happy Birthday!” We chorused. 

We all had fun during the short recess, some coming back with icing on their hands and faces, laughing along. After our clean up and gifts, we shared farewells as we went back to our classes.