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osamusriceballs · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 27 <3

Ushijima x dirtytalk

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~ 2,3 k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day

"Here, Wakatoshi-kun! Look at this!"

A phone gets shoved into his face, the brightness level way too high for comfort, but he squints to take a look at the screen. A small grunt leaves his lips at the lack of greeting from his red-haired friend, but he chooses to focus on the screen instead.

It's an Instagram post with a picture of him, one taken during the Olympics. He looks at the picture, confused, but then Tendou starts scrolling through the comments

"I'd combust if he called me 'baby' with that deep voice."

"Do you think he's vocal in bed?" Reply: "He doesn't talk much in interviews, so I doubt it." Reply: "What a waste. His voice is so hot."

"LOOK AT HIS ABS *drools*"

"The world is going crazy ever since you said 'baby' in that one interview!" Tendou wildly gestures with his phone still in his hand, his grin almost smug when he elbows Ushijima. A frown appears on the spiker's face as he tries to recall the interview. It was one that he wasn't too fond of, due to the number of personal questions that had been asked. Way too personal questions for his liking.

"Ushijima-san, do you have any plans to start a family soon? When can we expect a baby, a little Ushijima junior?" "Baby?" he had echoed, clearly taken aback by this question, something that the interviewer probably failed to notice, but to the people close to him, it was fairly obvious. The silence after this question lead to speculation on the internet about his relationship status, something that he has kept private so far.

"It wasn't in a sexual way." Ushijima states after skimming through more comments, raising his eyebrows when the messages get more explicit and vulgar. "I was surprised when he asked the question."

"Doesn't matter! The world is going feral now, everybody wants to be Wakatoshi's baby! And even I have to admit that I got butterflies when I heard you say that. Y/n is really lucky~" Tendou hums, mischief clear in his eyes, but Ushijima fails to follow his train of thoughts with this.

"Why is she lucky?"

"Because she gets you to say sweet and dirty things to her all day long. You can't fool me, Wakatoshi-kun; I'm not only your best but also your oldest friend." Tendou winks and strolls ahead, oblivious to the way Wakatoshi is left standing there with a frown on his face, still.

xxxxx

"Y/n?"

You rub your arms dry with a fluffy towel when his voice comes from the other side of the door.

"Hmm?" you hum, smiling excitedly because he is finally back home. "I'll be out in a second."

"Yes, please. We need to talk." You hear him lean against the door frame, clearly waiting for you to come out.

You freeze at his words, eyes growing wide when realization settles in and you fully comprehend his words. "Talk? Talk about what?" you know that you sound shrill and loud, but you can't help yourself but to feel nervous at his serious tone- even more serious than normally.

"About us." Your jaw drops, and you quickly reach for your bathrobe, hastily unfolding the fabric to its full length.

"What do you mean about us? Is there a problem with us?" You finally manage to pull your arms through the fabric, quickly wrapping the fabric along your body before you open the door. You're met with Ushijima's broad chest as he quickly straightens to his full posture. His olive eyes roam over your body, lingering for a short moment on your exposed cleavage before they return back to your face. He looks nervous, there is no other way to put it. "I'm not sure. I think there could might be a problem."

"And what would that be?" You cross your arms in front of your chest, your eyes boring into his face as if you could find answers for his unusual behavior there. You've never seen him like this before. His usual warm eyes are clouded with worry, his hands fidgeting with his phone in his hands. "Toshi? What is it? Please, talk to me." You're tempted to take the phone out of his hands, but you refrain from touching him, not when you don't know what's going on.

"Are you happy with our sex life?" His eyes don't leave your face, not for even the slightest second to see your reaction, and your jaw drops at the sudden question- you expected a lot, but definitely not this.

"I'm- I mean, yes I am? Shouldn't I be? Are you unhappy?" You take a slight step back, creating distance between the two of you, baffled by the sudden implication that he thinks that you're not satisfied. Or that he might not be. Sex with Wakatoshi is great- hard, rough, and passionate. He knows how to fuck you, that is for sure, but he also knows how to be gentle and sweet, how to take care of you and spoil you, especially during aftercare. You lack nothing in your sex life with him- and you hope that he feels the same.

"I am happy. Very. I enjoy sex with you very much much," he states firmly, but that only confuses you more.

"Why are you asking me then? What made you think that I could be unhappy?" You move closer to him, worry etched in your features when you finally take his phone and put it aside to grab his hands.

"Do you want me to talk more? To be more vocal? I saw a video and people kept on commenting how they want me to call them 'baby' and some more things. Would you like that too?" The way he asks nonchalantly like he was just talking about dinner made this even more embarrassing somehow.

"For you to call me 'baby' during sex?"

"Hmm." He nods and looks expectantly at you, his hands squeezing yours while his gaze seems somewhat calmer now that he is convinced that you're satisfied.

"You... you can call me whatever you want. I'm fine with it." You try to sound unbothered and calm, but the slightly shaking note shows how the thought of him calling you "baby" or "his pretty girl" while he thrusts into you does something to you. He nods, hesitating for a second, but then his hands suddenly drop yours to pull you in by the waist, his other hand coming to your chin while he leans down until his lips are close to your ear.

"My baby. Or would you rather be my babygirl?" His honey-like voice almost puts a spell on you, and you find yourself shivering in his arms, thighs involuntarily clenching together. "S-sounds good, Toshi." You bring your hands up to his chest, feeling the hard muscles under his shirt and his slow and steady heartbeat.

"And what would my babygirl like me to do? Does my babygirl want to be touched?" He lowly mumbles against the shell of your ear, your heart now beating faster when his hands start to roam over your body. "Yes," you breathlessly answer, hands slightly clenching into the fabric of his shirt. Definitely not what you had expected as the outcome of the conversation, but vocal Wakatoshi makes your pussy throb with every single word.

"My babygirl needs me to touch her, huh? I will take care of that pretty little princess cunt." He kisses your cheek, and your legs feel like jelly at this point. You cling to him, hanging on every single one of his words. You feel your arousal growing, feel how you start to get wet the more his hands keep touching you.

"More," you whisper, feeling hot and bothered while he keeps on touching you and pressing kisses to your neck. "More? Is my babygirl needy? That pretty princess cunny needs me to touch her?" He lifts the bathrobe just enough to place one hand on your thigh, and you feel like your body is on fire when he touches you there.

"Yes," you gasp, your hands now finding purchase on his shoulders while you cling onto him like your life depends on it. "What does that little princess cunny want? My fingers?" He grazes his fingertips along your thigh, moving dangerously close to your pussy under the bathrobe- bare, and basically creaming for him the longer he keeps playing with your body.

"Or my tongue?" he licks along the column of your neck, and you gasp at his words, the sensation hot and forbidden god. "I want to taste you, baby. You always taste so sweet. Do you want my tongue between your legs? Licking at your pretty pussy?" His fingers reach your throbbing pussy, slightly parting your folds and dipping in your wetness.

"Do it, do it, Toshi, please," you press your legs together around his hand, effectively caging him right where you need it. "Hmm, but you have to cum on my fingers first." He pecks your cheek and pulls his hand away from your legs, just to place it on your hips to guide you towards the bed. "Lay down for me, baby. Open that bathrobe for me."

His baritone echoes through the room, and you feel yourself doing everything like you're in a haze, full of need for him. "Hmm, that's my good girl." He hums apporvingly when you discard the bathrobe on the floor. Your body is trembling in the cool air of the room, but Ushijima is quick to join you on the bed and to hover above you, radiating so much heat that you instantly feel warm.

"Baby, spread your legs for me. Show me everything." You take a deep breath and slowly part your legs, revealing your glistening folds to him. A shiver runs down his body, and he clears his throat before he speaks again, his voice now lower when he is obviously bothered and turned on by the situation. "Look at how wet you are for me. All for me."

You frantically nod, anticipation rushing through your body while you wait for him to touch you. His fingers finally roam over your thighs, and your head falls back into the pillow at the way he touches you, the way he knows exactly where and how to touch you.

"So impatient. I can't wait to be inside of you, to feel you around me." Your gaze falls to the tent in his pants, the thought of him fucking you making your head spin and your pussy throb with need. His fingers move between your legs, moving along your folds and pressing against your clit. You moan at the sensation, your hands fisting the sheets when his thumb prods on your entrance.

"You look so pretty like this. Just waiting for me to touch you, to fuck you. And you feel so good around my fingers." He pushes his thumb inside of you, and you almost close your legs around him. "I will make you feel so good. I will make you cum on my fingers, on my tongue, on my cock." You clench around the digit at his words, your eyes focused on his handsome face while he keeps on rubbing your clit. "More, please more," you whine your body shaking underneath his. "Shhh, I'll give you more. I'll give you what you need, baby." His eyes roam down your body and you almost protest when he pulls his thumb out, just to quickly replace it with three of his fingers. "Oh, Toshi," you whine, your hips arching into him, and you start to fuck yourself on his fingers. He keeps the fast rhythm, pulling his fingers out, and pushing them back inside, curling them pulling them out again. "You feel so good. You're is creaming for me, look at that." His words only add fuel to your desire, and you grab his shoulders to push him down to you to connect your lips in a needy kiss. He groans into your mouth, his movements slowing down for a few moments before he sets his rhythm again, a fast and punishing pace now.

Your nails rake along his bare shoulders, leaving red marks, and he groans at the sensation. "Come on, baby girl. Let me feel you clench around me. Cream on my fingers, make a mess for me," his voice sends you over the edge, and you moan his name when you cum, your walls pulsing and clenching softly around his fingers. He groans your name, sweet praises of how you're his good girl, how pretty you look under him, how much he loves you, leave his lips and your body arches from the bed into his while your face contorts in pure bliss.

He prolongs your high, making sure to keep his pace and to curl his fingers just the right way, and your body goes limp when he finally slows down. His lips meet yours, pressing chaste and loving kisses to your face. "Was that okay?" The slight frown on his face is back, a clear sign of him being deep in thoughts when he pulls back after a few more kisses.

"More than okay. I think I could cum from your voice alone." You smile up at him and cup his cheek, the afterglow making you feel so good while you lay under him.

He raises an eyebrow, curiosity now sparkling in his eyes at your words, and you are quick to explain further. "I- I didn't mean that literally. Like- I just wanted to say that your voice is hot. And you are hot." Your cheeks heat up when he simply nods and hums, a mild smile on his lips.

"I want to test that out. Let's see if I can make you cum with my voice alone, baby."

#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima #ushijima smut #ushijima x reader #this got longer than I thought it would #I thought the small bit of backstory would be a nice touch #I hope you enjoy this!#just two more days #T.T #I'll probably post Suna's part on friday #and the finale on Sunday #just to let you know! <3 #I just realized how much I'm missing Tendou T.T #I'll probably write something for him soon! <3 #BTW! I am pretty convinced that Ushijima looked up some phrases online beforehand #and he will use baby for an eternity now #But he'll eventually come along and start to use a variety of names and dirty things to say

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politemagic · 2 months

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everyone say congratulations to the first time homeowners!

edit: i may or may not have been inspired to write some headcanons based on this, if you're interested

#is this anything? idk if this is anything but i made it anyway #i wanna write the misadventures of the eepies in their haunted house.#i feel like ii is the ghosts' favorite. while they might mess with the others they are actively helpful to him #like if someone doesn't close the door all the way it'll just slowly click shut so he doesn't have to get up #iii is very jealous that the ghosts like ii so much.#he holds seances at least once a week (despite vessel's many protests) basically just like 'why don't u like me🥺'#iv tries to win over the ghosts by doing nice things for them #if you've seen the show ghosts on cbs i imagine him being a little like jay lololol #leaving the tv on for them to watch or cooking something so they can smell it #(they still love ii the most)#vessel is definitely at least a LITTLE BIT of a medium so to him the haunted house just feels really crowded #though sometimes he'll listen in on their conversations when he's bored #so it's not uncommon for him to suddenly laugh in the middle of a silent room #(the others definitely aren't jealous at all)#anyways if you read all that and would want to read more lmk because i WILL write it #sleep token #worshitposting #sleep token memes #sleep token vessel #sleep token ii #sleep token iii #sleep token iv #em's worshitposting

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wandixx · 2 months

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Ghost of fries and hero of cookies part 6

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 2 686

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Batman wants an explanation. His kids however, wouldn't be themselves if they did add some chaos

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

“Signal.”

Duke bit back a sigh as his last hope to leave Cave undiscovered disappeared. He shot Steph message of:

Having The Talk. Come as moral support

and turned around to face Bruce.

“Yes?”

B grunted in disapproving and ‘Signal report’ way but Duke decided to buy some time and answer only questions that were actually asked. He slowly sat at the briefing table and looked at the man expectantly.

Lift chimed and moments later Tim and Cass went to Batcomputer and training mats respectively. Duke was, like, 80% sure they were there to eavesdrop. He knew them well enough. He knew them well enough.

“The girl”

“Izzy?” Was Duke annoying on purpose? Yes. He really didn’t want to have this talk. Like, at all. Psychological warfare it was “I mean, I know she is civilian and you don’t approve but at least she isn’t doing anything illegal, right? Like, you know, robbing museums or killing people?”

Bruce looked repulsed and Tim snorted.

“Low blow Narrows, low blow” Jason announced through speakers. He was slightly winded as if he just finished a fight “Good job kid”

“So you’re listening too, great” Duke muttered under his breath before louder he added “Is everyone who wants in on a show, here already?”

“Give me a sec- here Dick you’re going live now”

“Thanks Babs, you’re the best”

“I know. Donuts, you know which one”

“Of course. Glad we’re finally going to talk about Duke’s kid”

“Shut up, she is not my kid!”

“Steph ETA 2 minutes” Cass interrupted.

At least Damian didn’t show up- as if summoned by this thought Damian stomped down the stares, Alfred the Cat curled in his arms. Maybe others had a point, calling him Demon kid and stuff.

“What is an emergency?” he demanded and Duke decided to take what little relief he could from the fact that Bruce seemed equally defeated by sheer number of people around for this talk.

“It seems like… oh, literally everyone lost an adoption bet” Babs explained. Huh, so Steph didn’t change her stance.

Damian looked genuinely terrified as he muttered “No” eyes darting between everyone present in silent calculation.

“Oh, shut up” Duke whined knowing all too well his stalling had to come to the end. Maybe it was wishful thinking but he almost heard roar of engine of Steph’s motorcycle. Her presence would be double edged sword but she would help him advocate for Dani and that was more important.

“Thomas, what have you done?!” if it was anyone other than Damian, Duke would call sound he made a whine. As it was, he preferred his entrails to stay inside and since the boy showed up, called by thought, the older boy preferred not to take risks.

“Nothing, Babs is overreacting”

“Don’t deny it. She went about it kinda Tim Lite style but it worked”

“I don’t even know her surname, where she stays or really, anything about her life outside of our patrols, how do you expect me to go about adoption?!”

“B knew even less about me when he decided, yes this tire thief is my new son!” Jason chimed in and Duke knew he was grinning despite voice modulator.

“What from my origin story was lost to make Lite version?”

“Identities weren't breached as far as we're aware. Just ‘came one day and refuses to leave’ part and some light stalking. She was smart about it, invisible, keeping out of sight and to the hot spots. Wouldn't find her if I didn't know she was there”

“She could still just not tell, I mean I knew for years before telling anyone…”

“There is no way. Believe me, she has no brain-mouth filter, I swear”

“But-”

“She introduced herself by her first name,” Duke deadpanned ”She told me civilian names of heroes from her hometown, in context that didn't require me to do any actual research to clue me. I did anyway. I don't think she even realized she did it. If she knew our identities we would know already”

There was a moment of silence as everyone digested the thought of just how gigantic breach Dani accidentally caused.

“Well, it's as good of a proof as we can get for now,” Babs bristled.

“Who let her in on such secrets then?!” Damian sounded genuinely appalled and Duke wasn't too surprised.

Like on a cue, Steph stormed inside on her Spoiler in civies. Bruce looked about ready to get aneurysm. Duke was a bit glad that everyone was doing such good job in distraction department.

“IT’S OKAY, WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE!” Steph yelled, jumping from before her vehicle fully stopped. She threw something small in general direction of Batcomputer “Timmy plug it in, I made a PowerPoint!”

Duke felt blood leave his face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Steph put together but he probably didn't. Tim opened it anyways.

WHY HOOPOE IS ADORABLE&CHAOTIC BEAN AND SHOULD BE PART OF THE TEAM

The title slide said, one of the clearest photos of Dani from before she started wearing mask in the background. It was close-up of girl smiling, bits of brownie on her cheeks.

“Was this photo taken with a goddamn calculator?” Tim asked with disgust so clear Duke could taste it. Metaphorically of course.

“Nah, just body-cam. Her powers mess with technology a bit”

Tim still looked displeased at the craftsmanship.

“Don't worry, it's not a bad photo. Baby Bird is just being perfectionist,” Dick placated.

Duke didn't realize that Damian froze until he unfroze and made his way to the screen, stopping less than one foot away from it. His movements were rigid, his face scrunched with distress. Alfred the Cat escaped its master probably due to hoe tense he was. Everyone in Cave quietened as soon as boy took first step and expecting mood had to run through microphones because nobody from the on-line crowd quipped in.

“This is the green of Lazarus” he whispered finally, sounding actually scared. Jason swore. Bruce and Cass visibly stiffened. Tim choked and he wasn't even drinking. Dick did his whinny breezy name saying thing when he wanted explanation and felt lightly betrayed.

It was Duke's turn to freeze because… it wasn't. Of course he wasn't all that well versed in the Pit, less alone its color but he did bust quite a few trafficking rings with Jason and he saw his eyes afterwards all raging, toxic, neon green glory and it wasn't the same as Dani’s. As much as he liked English and how good he was at it, it failed him at simple task of describing the obvious difference between each other. He'd have more luck describing tastes with set of color samples from IKEA or something. And really, even if he tried he would lose the fight of competence with Damian. Who wouldn't. But-

“There is no way she has any connection with LOA”

“Why is that?” Damian seemed to misinterpret it as challenge like he always did when emotions were running high. Duke took a deep breath. Well, it was a moment to use all of his diplomatic skills and speak in the language of the demons.

“I've seen her fight. She would be utter disgrace”

“It does not prove-”

“It does” Duke interrupted with the tone and mimic of person who saw too much because he did ”None of you have any say until you watch a tiny and I mean tiny ten year old tackle five Joker goons like it's a joke, by sheer virtue of super strength and intangibility-means-I-can-ignore-bullets-Signal-don’t-be-such-worrywart. She should get shot, like, three times at least. And she kept laughing!” he was low key wheezing at the end because even after all this time (a week) it was fucking horrifying. Bruce made a huff that meant he was laughing and put a hand on his shoulder as a sign of support. Dick's lighthearted laugh sang from the speakers.

“Don't worry Duke, it never gets better” B said with mirth.

He refused to elaborate whether he meant ‘kids keep jumping into danger like there is no tomorrow‘ or ‘it's equally terrifying every time’ and Duke decided to reflect on that sentiment later. It put some things into perspective. A lot of things if he was being honest.

Also, he was not ready for stuff like that to become even semi-normal occurrence. He was ready to give her all of his Alfred cookies if it could change anything. He knew it wouldn't.

“Do you have any other evidence that your new acquaintance does not just fake being less experienced to make you lower your guard?” Damian asked warily.

“I had to teach her out of putting her thumb in her fist,” he deadpanned. Several people hissed in empathetic pain. Steph coughed to bring attention to where she stood in front of Batcomputer, other slide of her Power Point open. Duke recognised video from his body-cam.

“Exhibit A” she announced. She played a video with Dani’s first mugging attempt he witnessed. Let it be said, it was a disaster.

“Exhibit B '' One of Dani’s most epic fails at side-kick that ended with her falling face first to the ground.

“Exhibit C” Dani fumbled with zip-ties, looking at him utterly at loss.

“Exhibit D” the talk about her prior training.

“What’s was that sound?” Dick obviously on the verge of cooing when girl on video growled. Steph stopped video.

“Very angry kitten” Tim stated with soft smile.

“Honestly, furious girl” Cass corrected “She was really mad at you”

“Yeah, I know but promise of Alfred’s cookies was enough to placate her”

“You gave her Alfred’s cookies?!”

“She started by giving me a lot of food on a really shitty patrol, had to repay somehow”

“Was it from your share or-” Dick asked like it was most important thing in the world.

“Miss Hoopoe was added to my plans after she picked her new name” Alfred explained and shit, Duke really should get used to how man just appeared sometimes. Jumpscare the original.

“Alfred, you knew?” Bruce sounded so utterly betrayed.

“I have yet to meet her but I was informed about her presence about two weeks ago”

“He caught me printing mask for her”

“About that” Steph clapped and skipped her slide show “Look at thi clueless child with such horrible disguises and codename ideas” There was whole list of every name Dani wanted to try out and photo of her bare face. Duke kinda repressed his memories of it. It was worse than he remembered.

“Did she really tried kenting that?”

“Got it after her cousin. He used his first name as part of his alias for almost half a year” Duke admitted in carefree tone, knowing it would cause a mess.

“Cousin?!” several people yelled in surprise.

“Caped cousin?!”

“Yup. Small time hero from Illinois. As far as I’m aware she’s alone in Gotham but they’re in regular contact and she has strong believe that he can and will help her if she used her panic button”

“Who in their right mind let’s kid alone in Gotham?!” Jason sounded about ready to strangle Phantom.

“He seems to be fifteen himself. And has anti-meta parents if I’m picking things up correctly. She didn’t mention them much. I highly doubt she has present parents at all, so…”

“What the hell Narrows.”

“I don’t know, it’s just a wild guess”

“Does it call for the rescue?” Steph asked eagerly.

“We’re not going to Illinois to rescue Phantom if he doesn’t ask for it. He has means to it” Bruce interrupted with bone deep sigh.

“How do you know I meant Phantom?” Duke perked up because he never mentioned this name.

“He is from Illinois, looks almost the same as far as I can tell from the photos and they share a lot of powers”

“I didn’t know you knew about random kid hero from other state?”

“He dropped by on few Justice League’s mission. There is still dispute whether we should approach him in his city or not. He was very clear on his opinion that we should stay away. I think we really shouldn’t”

“How you haven’t gone or sent anyone there yet?” Tim teased.

Bruce just stared at him then gestured at mountain of cases they were currently working on. Yes, they were printed. Apparently for man it made it easier to work on them like that.

“Can we focus back on untrained child you let join you on patrol, Duke?”

“You act like I could stop her from doing her own thing if I didn’t let her. Plus, even though she doesn’t have combat training, she can handle herself well enough. And has this damn intangibility that makes her really hard to punch”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone other than Alfred and Steph and I wanted to wait a bit before leaving her to the wolfs”

“The bet”

“Shut up Steph”

“When did you plan on letting us know?” Bruce ignored what blonde insinuated. Duke was utterly grateful for that, he knew he would get lecture for that later but he was more than happy to leave it be for now.

“Somewhen next week. I hoped to introduce her gradually but apparently everyone knew already?”

“Kids tell me things. Hoopoe made a good impression on them” Jason explained.

“Hero sightings on Twitter” Dick admitted without a shadow of shame.

“What he said” Tim agreed “This person from crochet dolls made one for your kid too, so in public eyes she’s our already”

“For the last time, she isn’t my kid!” Duke groaned but as always went ignored.

“Nobody expected old man’s tendencies to rub on you so fast, Narrows”

“Shut up and this is half a reason I didn’t let you meet her. All of you”

“With all due respect Duke” Babs started teasingly “You gave us ammo yourself. You improved her diet, you brought her to The Food Track Of Mental Breakdowns, you teach her stuff, you check in on her almost as often as her cousin and their friends do…”

“How did you hack her pho- No, wrong question, why?!”

“We’re all paranoid bastards, I needed to check out the newest bird. She legally doesn’t exist btw so I suspect some shady stuff with her birth but otherwise nothing sus about her. Comms and trackers for her are waiting in drawer C19. You will give it to her tomorrow”

“Aye, aye captain Oracle ma’am” he joked.

“Wait, you showed her The Food Track?”

“She deserved it” he gritted out.

Before this could turn into a fight or something, Alfred demanded:

“Since we are all on the same page now, I would like to extend an invitation for family dinner to miss Hoopoe”

“We’ll eat it down here in full costumes”

“As you wish master Bruce. Master Duke make sure to let her know”

“Of course Alfred”

And he planned to do that but Dani didn’t show up. He hadn’t thought much of it because she was unpredictable like that. She tended to disappear from the face of the Earth for a day or two and return with tales of her “autograph hunting trips”

But then she didn’t show up on the next patrol too. It was unprecedented. And she hadn’t responded to the check in. Three times in the row. He was getting kinda sick from the stress.

He knew Dani well enough, she wouldn’t ghost him like that and in Gotham disappearing meant three things: getting kidnapped, trafficked or six feet under. To their knowledge, Dani didn’t have anyone who would pay ransom for her other than Signal and no demands were made so the first option was out.

Bats launched full fledged search.

Duke himself found and busted two trafficking rings in three weeks which was around how much he did in two months on a daily basis.

Thanks to Oracle, they found Dani’s utterly crashed phone in the dead end in the Narrows. It didn’t look any better.

Duke really hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

With each day it seemed more likely.

********

Bruce: *wants to have private conversation with his son about unknown child he's been working with*

All of the Batfam: Hello there

Duke: I managed to keep Dani secret my family of detectives!

Everyone other than Bruce: I knew for past two weeks, but goood job kid

Random o Twitter: I'm sooo disappointed with Signal for letting Hoopoe fight crime. She is just a little child, she shouldn't have to witness Gotham's worst

Other Random: Have you heard about Robin????? Have you seen teories that Signal is teenager???? With proofs????? Are you mad at child for not taking proper care of the other child????? That's messed up my dude/gal

Yell at Batman

Signal: You act like she isn't personification of feral cat I try to coax home so I can prevent her from getting in trouble. I dare you to try and stop her

Phantom: I do too, 100$ if you manage. It would save me from so much stress

Random: Now, who the f*ck are you?!

(Guess who never touched Twitter with 20 meters stick in her life)

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Tag list: @pickleking8 @mynameisnotlaura

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new sidekick and he cares about her deeply #it would fit more in part 2 probably but i forgot about it #Signal to Dani: Hydration check!#Dani: What? Why? Other wh words???#Signal: I care about you so I want to make sure you're taking care of yourself #Signal: Drink something #Dani: Okay cool here's a proof i'm drinking *photo of juice*#Dani to Danny: Hydration check! Drink something so I know you're okay #Danny: 👍 *sends photo of unholy mix of coffee red bull and ectoplasm with trice as much caffeine as it's legal in USA*#Dani: Glad you're being nice to your body #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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cuubism · 9 months

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it's been a while since i've written something that could be described as "literally just hurt/comfort" but well. here it is. i guess XD

It amused Hob endlessly that Dream never seemed to sit on his throne. Perhaps he did when welcoming official delegations of visitors, or conducting official business, but Hob had never witnessed it. Every time he had been to Dream’s throne room, Dream had been sprawled on the stairs instead, long limbs all askew, coat flared out dramatically below him, like some kind of panther reclining on its tree branch. Moody, petulant, dramatic thing. Hob loved him so.

He pet up and down Dream’s side as he sat beside him, and Dream, panther-like indeed, purred, pressing his nose into Hob’s throat. He had been about to show Hob something, take him to some new corner of the Dreaming he had created, but as usual they had gotten distracted, necking on the steps like insatiable teenagers. And now they were just talking quietly, one of Hob’s legs slung over Dream’s, Dream’s arm around his waist as Hob kept stroking up and down his rib cage under his cloak.

“I did intend to show you the new gardens,” Dream murmured, but made no move to leave Hob’s side. “You will enjoy them.”

“I’m sure I will,” Hob said, pressing another kiss to his hair. “Enjoying this too, though.”

“Would you like to enjoy more?” Dream asked, suggestion in it now, and Hob laughed.

“If you’re feeling committed enough to get up and lead us to your quarters. I don’t think Lucienne deserves to get an eyeful.”

“I could close off the throne room and have you upon these here steps,” rumbled Dream, grip tightening on Hob’s hip.

“And I could have you over your throne, if we’re doing that,” Hob countered, and a shudder ran up Dream’s spine.

He managed to disentangle himself from Hob and stood, offering a hand. “Come. We will retreat— this time.”

Hob chuckled, letting Dream pull him up. “Not in an exhibitionist mood today?”

“I’d like you to myself.” So saying, he strode down the steps, already summoning a swirl of sand to take them away— back to the waking world, maybe—

when something struck him.

Only there was nothing there. But Dream lurched backward the way the soldiers of Hob’s youth would fall back when lanced through with an arrow on the battlefield—he stumbled on suddenly weak legs, clutching at his chest, and with a cry of pain just—

—dropped

just fell in the middle of his throne room, the very seat of his power. Landed on shaking arms that were already giving out, shoulders curved and head hanging.

It was fucking terrifying.

Hob rushed over to him, fell to his knees by his side. Hands hovering for a moment as he tried to decide if it was safe to touch him. Safe for Dream, that was. Hob hardly cared about what might happen to him. “Dream,” he said, but Dream didn’t respond. He seemed barely able to hold himself up. As Hob watched, blood trickled from his nose and dripped onto the marble floor.

Hob abandoned caution and took him into his arms. Dream wiped at the blood streaming faster from his nose with a limp hand, but only succeeded in smearing it everywhere. “Dream,” Hob said. “What’s happening, love?”

Dream just closed his eyes. “Something…” he murmured, the word slurred and nearly unintelligible, “terrible. Silence. And. Death.”

A tremor rushing through him like an electric shock, and the Dreaming… separated.

Hob felt the schism go through it, felt his own body separating from itself like an earthquake right through the center of existence, the very air trembling. He looked at his hands and saw them in double, looked at the throne room and saw its colors refracting outward in layered planes, and then Dream, in the center of it all, dense as a neutron star.

Then it all slammed back together.

The force of the impact flung Hob across the room, away from Dream. He hit the floor hard, struggling to catch his breath as he scrambled upright, dizzy. Everything seemed to have congealed back into one layer again, but the hall was shaking, and on the other side of the room Dream was trying to push himself up, and failing as his limbs kept giving out on him, blood puddling on the floor from his nose and mouth.

What could possibly make Dream bleed? In his own realm?

Hob raced back over to him, skidding to a stop and crouching by his side so fast he almost fell over. Dream was on his knees, eyes screwed shut, hands pressed to his temples. Hob laid his hands over Dream’s. “Hey. Can you hear me? Can you look at me?”

Dream just let out a pained whine. And then Hob was very glad he was holding onto him because the whole room spun.

Suddenly they were upside down, gravity reversed so down was up, up was down, and Hob was on the ceiling looking down at the endless void of space. They didn’t fall, though, and he wrenched his gaze back to Dream before the vertigo made him puke. And then the room swung upright again, but this time it took gravity with it— Hob grabbed a hold of Dream’s hand and just barely stayed in place but heard things crashing against the palace windows, trees and houses and god knew what else that had been uprooted in the spinning equilibrium.

“Dream,” he said, holding Dream’s face between his hands. “Can you focus? Come back to me, love.”

Dream finally looked at him. His eyes had lost their human veneer and gone starry, but one was utterly black edge-to-edge, like it was dilating wrong in its view of the universe. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but what came out instead was another gush of blood.

“Shit.” Hob hauled him upright, kept him in his arms as he choked and spasmed, blood coming up with each cough, streaming from his nose. The sky had shifted to a glaring red, the stars angry eyes against it, and screaming rose higher and higher from the distant woods outside the palace, a thousand animal voices rising in chorus. “Shit. Alright, it’s okay.” He pet Dream’s hair, kept his voice pitched low and soothing, though his heart was hammering under Dream’s ear pressed against his chest. It most definitely was not alright, but Hob didn’t know what else he could do, other than try to bring Dream back from wherever he was. There was no injury, there was nothing he could fix. “It’s alright, my darling. Come on.”

Dream whimpered in pain and jerked as a lightning bolt of energy raced through him, zapping each of his limbs. Blood had started streaming out of his ears now, too, and past the sleeves of his robe Hob could see bruising around his wrists and trailing up his arms. He yanked up the hem of Dream’s shirt, and found more on his torso, patternless marks of bleeding, and his stomach lurched.

“Alright, alright, let’s get you down,” he said, keeping his voice gentle despite the panic racing through his nervous system. He laid Dream down on the floor, taking off his own jacket and folding it as a makeshift pillow to put under his head. Dream immediately turned and curled up on his side, hands over his ears.

Hob leaned down to try to meet his gaze. “Dream. Hey.” He caressed Dream’s cheek. “Dream. Please. Anything you can tell me that will help. Come on, darling. Talk to me.”

After several long, painful seconds, Dream managed, each word a dragging, pained whisper, “It will pass. I prom—” this was cut off by a horrible scream, animalistic but all wrong, off-pitch, like he was being eviscerated by an electroshock probe.

Matthew careened into the throne room and landed at Hob’s side. “Holy shit, there you are. I thought he was dying in a ditch somewhere, the Dreaming’s going fucking haywire.” He prodded at Dream’s hair with his beak, hopping in distress. “Boss. Boss!”

Dream seemed totally lost to them now, clutching at his head and making an awful whining sound. Hob finally gave up on trying to get him to talk and just pulled him close, laying Dream’s head in his lap.

Matthew perched delicately on Dream’s hip. “Do you know what happened?”

Hob brushed Dream’s hair from his sweaty, feverish forehead. “Not a clue. He said it would pass?”

Matthew tittered nervously. “A whole wing of the library is burning.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Loosh can’t get the fire under control. And a whole mountain range fell into the sea. Is this the apocalypse?”

Hob let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But it this doesn’t get better soon I’m calling his sister for help myself.”

Dream sucked in a huge breath as if summoned back to life by Hob’s words and said, each word a heavy scrape, “She will be far too busy for that.”

Around them, the Dreaming seemed to stabilize, shivering back into place. Everything went quiet again. Hob’s exhale of relief shook his whole body. “Hey. Hey.” He took Dream’s face between his hands and tilted his head up to look at him. “Hey, love. Are you back with us?”

Dream nodded. He looked utterly exhausted, glassy-eyed and with tremors running up and down his frame, but no longer like he was being actively tortured. “That was. The worst of it.”

“The worst of what? Did somebody hurt you?”

“No.” He looked to Hob for help, and Hob didn’t like it but he hauled him upright and helped him sit, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and letting Dream lean against him. “I am,” his voice was hoarse, each word a struggle, “the sum. Of all living minds in this universe. And when so many of those lives are ended at once. I. Feel it. That part of myself. Dying.”

Hob looked around before remembering that he couldn’t exactly see anything from here. “Something happened back home?”

“Your planet is not the only one with life,” Dream said. Hob shook himself before his brain could latch onto that—it was too much to be confronted with in the middle of a crisis. “I do not know exactly what transpired. I will have to ask Death. Only, it was significant.”

“What, like thousands of people? Er, beings?” Matthew said.

Dream’s gaze slanted over to him. He looked horribly sad, underneath the exhaustion. “Trillions. Not only intelligent species dream. Smaller creatures. Insects. Some plants. All eradicated.”

“That’s why that happened to the library,” Hob realized. All the books of all those lives.

Dream’s eyes snapped to him. “What happened to the library?”

“Apparently it was on fire—”

Dream tore himself from Hob’s grasp and staggered to his feet, rushed through a door that hadn’t been there a moment before. He was listing violently to one side, stumbling off balance, but didn’t stop, and Hob and Matthew chased after him.

They tumbled through the door into an inferno, the towering library stacks crackling and popping in the incredible heat. A surprisingly modern sounding alarm was blaring overhead, lights flashing. Lucienne had found a fire extinguisher and was valiantly attempting to put out the blaze, but she could do nothing against the sheer scale of it.

Dream careened into a table, caught himself just before falling, then thrust out his hands. The room plummeted to freezing in an instant, and Hob’s breath caught as all of the oxygen—to whatever extent that even existed in the Dreaming—whooshed out of the room. His chest went tight, and he was pretty sure it was only the nature of the Dreaming that kept them all from suffocating.

Dream held them in stasis like that until all of the fires had sputtered out, starved of air. Then his arms fell heavily to his sides and he dropped sideways into a chair, panting. Air swung back into the room, and Hob sucked in a deep breath.

“Lucienne,” said Dream, breathing heavily, “what— what is— the damage?”

Lucienne sat down beside him. She looked rather more concerned about the state of Dream himself than the books—his skin was still absolutely covered in blood, his face gaunt and hollow, limbs shaking—but she said, “We’ve lost most of this wing, my lord. What happened?”

Dream squeezed his eyes shut in dismay. “Too many lives felled at once.”

Lucienne laid her hand over his, gave it a squeeze. Hob knelt beside him, laying a hand on his knee.

“My fault,” Dream murmured. “I should have conceived of some protection against this. Or recovered myself. Quicker.”

“No,” said Lucienne, even before Hob could. “I don’t think you could have stopped this, my lord.”

"You can't prevent people from dying," said Hob.

"I can certainly prevent their books from being wiped from the library," insisted Dream, and then slumped, leaning his face on his hand, brow pinched in pain. "Too much strain on the Dreaming at once," he murmured, mostly to himself. "This should not have happened."

Hob squeezed Dream’s knee. “I’m sorry, love. I’m really sorry.”

Dream’s frown didn’t soften, if anything, his shoulders slumped further.

“I’ll see what I can salvage,” Lucienne said, standing upright again. “You should rest.”

Dream didn’t seem to have the strength to oppose this. “Matthew, will you find out if any residents were injured in the destruction?”

“Yup, on it, boss.” He landed on Dream’s shoulder for a moment, preened his hair, then winged away again, out of the library.

Then it was just Dream and Hob.

“Hey,” Hob said quietly. Now that they were alone, Dream had gone nearly as limp as a doll. Hob took both of his hands. “Let’s go rest, yeah? You must be knackered.”

That barely scratched the surface, but bringing up Dream’s moments of weakness—as he would see it—was rarely helpful.

“I am not tired so much as…” he plucked each specific word individually from the ether— “Stripped. To the bone. Like carrion.”

Hob’s heart hurt, doubly so for Dream having actually admitted it. “Let’s go rest then, yeah?”

Dream shook his head. “I do not wish to simply return to my quarters. I do not wish to simply return to my quarters. That is not what the Dreaming deserves after this failure.”

“Somewhere else? You can’t just go and try to fix it all now, Dream. Please.”

“Somewhere else,” Dream agreed, at length. "For a time." He interlocked his fingers with Hob’s. Then the library was swirling out of view, and they reemerged in a familiar grassy dell, sitting in the long, soft grass. Fiddler’s Green, Hob thought. Of course.

Gilbert—for since learning that Fiddler’s Green was a he, Hob couldn’t help but call him the more human name he’d chosen—seemed unharmed by the damage that had plowed through the Dreaming. Dream sat cross-legged on the soft ground and brushed his fingertips through the grass, a self-soothing motion. A warm breeze tumbled through his hair, as if Gilbert was trying to comfort him.

Hob gathered Dream into his arms, and as he did a tree sprung up from the ground behind him, growing from a sapling to a massive oak in moments. Hob leaned back against it, holding Dream close. “You’re a gem, Gilbert.”

The leaves rustled in response.

“Has something like this happened before?” Hob asked quietly, lips brushing Dream’s hair, and Dream nodded.

“Yes. Hence why I should have been more prepared.”

“Not what I meant. I wanted to know how to help.”

“There is… little to be done,” Dream said. “In time, the Dreaming will integrate the loss. Any acute damage, I will fix. It simply requires some… patience.”

“And what about you?” Hob said.

This time, Dream didn’t say something about how the Dreaming was him. He just didn’t respond at all.

Hob held out a hand. “Do you want to help me out here, then, Dreaming?”

A soft, wet towel appeared in his hand. “Cheers.”

“Hob,” said Dream uncertainly, as Hob budged him up.

“Let me see your face.” He took Dream’s chin in one hand, and began scrubbing away the blood with the other, wiping clean his lips, and the corners of his eyes, his chin, his throat.

Dream watched him silently. Hob was still wiping clean the sharp hinge of his jaw when the first tear slipped from his eye. “So many dreamers,” he murmured.

Hob pulled him close and pressed Dream’s head to his shoulder. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened, in some far off corner of the universe. But Dream’s pain was plain enough. “I know, love. I’m sorry.”

“I am used,” Dream said, “to the normal cycle of life and death. I have never considered it a tragedy; it is the way of Time. Death herself is kind, but not all ends are, it is the way of things. But such sudden, and widespread destruction. This feels. Like a tragedy. Not only lives were lost. But whole species. Cultures. A history, too. And its remembrance.”

“And normally you’re the one that remembers it,” said Hob, and Dream nodded.

“Now… I can only remember fragments about those civilizations. Whatever survived in the library, or on the fringes of my realm. I can feel the loss in the fabric of dreaming—but I cannot see what was once there.”

Hob kissed the top of his head. “You care so much,” he said, as Dream’s tears wet his shoulder. “Oh, darling. I’m sorry.”

There was really nothing more to say; he couldn’t make it any better. He could only hold Dream while he processed and regained his strength. And so he did just that, leaning back against the tree in the warm, calming breeze of Fiddler’s Green, and kept Dream close to him. And when it came time for Dream to fix the damage done to the Dreaming, Hob would stick by him then, too.

#it's Beating The Shit Out Of Dream Monday #they were going to have such a nice sexy time and then Cockblocked By Tragedy #dreamling #dreamling fic #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #anyway i just wonder how things happening to the living creatures whose existence creates the endless would affect the endless #if a species goes extinct does that part of dream die? anyway #rip dream he just wanted to have sex with his bf but a planet had to go and explode smh #idk how that even happened maybe a huge asteroid hit it idk #this feels like it ended kind of abruptly whoops but i just needed it to be done you know #tw blood #or something

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lemonflavoreddishsoap · 8 months

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Can I request La Squadra x S/O who's taller than them? Thank you.

yes you caaaaaan! Sorry if these are, ironically, shorter HCs.

jsyk i write this with the opinion that Risotto is by far the tallest

------------------------------------------------- La Squadra with an S/O who's taller than them!

Formaggio

"Well yea, it's easy to be taller than me, heh" *insert shrinking...noises?*

The taller the S/O, the more inclined he feels to shrink himself and ride on your shoulder. Get used to it.

Bro gets on his tippy toes to kiss you. he doesn't even have to but he still does. It's kind of cute?

Illuso

"No you're not."

Unless you're taller than him by like. A foot or some shit. He is adamant you two are at least the same height.

He doesn't bring it up unless you do but...he subtly tries to make himself seem taller. It's so fucking petty, you decide if it's annoying or charming :/

Prosciutto

"Alright, and?"

He probably cares the least about your height. Sure, you're taller than him. So what? Unless his head is at like. boob level 24/7 or something somehow, he doesn't care.

Unless you bring it up, or poke fun at him being shorter. You better think his glares are sexy 'cause....

If you're tall enough for it to matter, he'll do the "pulling you by the collar into a kiss" thing

Pesci

"Being near you...feels so secure...."

He loves it!!!! When you hug him it feels like you're completely surrounding him...like, not literally, but the idea is so comforting!

I was going to say you should rest your chin on top of his head but...um...how sturdy is his hair?

If you're happy with your height, he'll bring it up a lot when he compliments you.

Melone

"DI MOLTO"

"Is your whole family like that?"

Excited to know if it's something that runs strong in your genetics. No particular reason. Trust me.

Like Pesci, he doesn't have any issues with having a taller s/o. It's just another lovely aspect about you <3

Ghiaccio

"Okay fine, I get it! For fucks sake!"

This poor guy. To be honest, he really doesn't care that you're taller than him, he thinks its fine. But people won't leave him alone about it

Yeah he's an "angry little gremlin thing" but they gotta stop dragging his s/o into it...it kind of sours the height difference a little.

But like I said, he really doesn't have any issues with it. If you can get past how much the comments annoy him, you can probably see how much he likes your chin on top of his head, or how you look so slightly down on him when your faces are so close....gah sorry what was i doing-

Risotto

"Be nice. They're are not scary."

yes you are. my lactose intolerant ass envies you. what the actual fuck.

I guess that's a pro about him being with someone taller than him, that he can't intimidate his s/o with his height? That's not to imply that he's intimidated by you though!!

Unless people are causing a fuss about it though, Risotto doesn't mind your height. I don't think physical appearance means much when it comes to partners to him? Just my personal feeling.

#I feel like this was a bit rusty. probably because it's shorter #la squadra #jjba x reader #la squadra x reader #formaggio x reader #risotto x reader #ghiaccio x reader #illuso x reader #pesci x reader #jjba #melone x reader #prosciutto x reader #ive come to realize my headcanons are rarely ever 100% fluffy #like i often bring up annoying/not totally fun parts of characters in the hcs #i kind of do it naturally but #is it..something people like?#its more realisticish i guess but at the same time i get why some people may not wanna be surrounded by their favorite characters flaws #in random x reader writing #i am! overthinking! but if i can get peoples answers on this anyways it would be nice

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eskildit · 9 months

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my current headcanon is that from ianthes pov corona has just been baiting judith all these years. like 'pretend to like the weird kid' style. because ianthe clearly had no clue corona had any real affection for judith in ntn even though shes been invited to every birthday party for years. but ianthe used her party invites for psychological warfare, why wouldnt corona?

#ianthes thinking like oh we're bullying the fleet admirals daughter? nice i can get on board #oh youre sending judith flowers for her promotion? nice youre playing the long game #who knows maybe it actually did start that way and then the dynamic changed #i just think its so interesting how baffled ianthe was in ntn #because coronas attention to judith didnt start while they were in captivity even if it changed the relationship #something about corona that ianthe didnt see coming! fascinating!#also would totally write a fic where ianthes assumption is actually correct and corona WAS being a bully and just later changed her mind #the locked tomb #eskildit posts tlt #judith deuteros #ianthe tridentarius #coronabeth tridentarius #ok to rb

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jtl-fics · 5 months

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Fluent Freshman - Part 44

The flight up to New York is a pleasant one.

The time in the airport itself had been less pleasant. Matt, as it turns out, is a firm believer in arriving with just enough time to check a bag, get through security, and get to the gate. He had claimed up, down, left, and right that he had it down to a science.

No matter how many times Smith had wondered about the scientific rigor of this 'science' he still kept it to himself. There was no need for Smith to voice his uncertainty with this plan because Kevin well and truly had it covered.

"You're giving us only an hour to check bags, get through security, and get to our gate?!" Kevin demands.

"Kevin, if you wanted to be there earlier then you could have asked Andrew to give yo a ride." Matt says. "We'll be fine."

"You know what Neil and Andrew get like when they have a long roadtrip ahead of them." Kevin argues.

"All lovey-dovey?" Nicky asks as Aaron makes a gagging sound.

"No, well yes, but no they always stop and buy all of the worst food too." Kevin reminds. "I'm just concerned about us missing our flight! We have barely enough time!" Kevin huffs crossing his arms.

"You're wrong anyways." Aaron says idly as he continues to text with Katelyn.

"How am I wrong?!" Kevin demands.

"We also have to park within that hour that Matt has left us with." Aaron says looking up from his phone.

"Matt!" Kevin squawks.

"It'll be fine." Matt reassures for the 2nd time.

"We all have checked bags!" Kevin exclaims, "What if we miss our flight?!" he wails.

"It'll be fine!" Matt repeats.

"No it won't!" Kevin exclaims.

---

It was fine.

The only real delays they met were at security.

Smith prided himself on being efficient in the security line. He has his watch off, his phone and ID secured in a zipped jacket pocket, his backpack and electronics in separate trays, and his shoes ready to be slipped off.

So he was shamed to have been the cause of the first delay when the TSA agent wouldn't wave Smith through the metal detector since she didn't realize he was there. That had been a whole anxiety attack and a half as the line had formed up behind him all wondering what the hold-up was.

Finally she seemed to startle as she realized that Smith had been standing there waiting and waved him through.

The other delay was that Kevin got patted down after he had forgotten to empty his 'emergency' water bottle.

It was probably for the best that they didn't have to be in the airport for that long. Every announcement that it was very important to not leave your bag unattended made him worry that with every blink somehow someone had slipped a bomb into his backpack.

While it was on his back.

As he was running with the rest of his friends to their gate.

"It just had to be the gate on the other end of the terminal." Aaron huffs.

"It would have been 100% perfect if someone hadn't left their water bottle in their bag despite the, let me check, 3,820 signs that said remove all liquids from your carry-ons!" Matt says as they continues to run.

"I said I forgot!" Kevin yells back from his spot at the front of the pack. Smith was under the distinct impression that Kevin was keeping pace with them since he had seen the Striker move much faster on the court and during warm-ups.

"We could have forgiven that!" Nicky pants, "Why did you have to slam the whole thing to prove that it was 'just water'?" he asks.

"Because I wanted to prove I wasn't a national security threat!" Kevin says. "I'll be going to the Olympics in a couple years and I can't have that on my record." he continues as he rounds a corner.

"What record?!" Smith asks suddenly worried that there was a record.

"Smithy, there's no record Kevin's just an idiot. An idiot who got patted down, tested for explosives, and had his carry-on searched." Nicky huffs.

"You don't know that there's not a record! The record everything nowadays!" Kevin huffs and their gate is in sight.

"Kevin, just shut up!" Aaron exclaims as they reach the line for their flight.

"Wait why aren't any of you getting shitty with Smiths?!" Kevin asks.

"His delay was like a minute and more importantly NOT HIS FAULT!" Nicky defends.

"He should have just walked through!" Kevin argues.

"Oh it's fine if he gets a record but not you?!" Aaron asks.

"So there is a record?!" Smith asks again.

They reach the line and the largely empty area around their gate is more than enough evidence that this was the final boarding. Smith breathed a sigh of relief as he took his place in line behind Nicky.

"The lines pretty slow, I'm going to go get a water." Kevin says and before any of them can say anything he is off towards a busy looking Newsweek store.

"I cannot believe him." Aaron huffs.

"All that water he just drank and is about to drink? He has lost window seat privileges." Matt pants wiping sweat from his brow.

"Agreed." Nicky says.

Smith laughed between panting breaths. His stomach hurt a bit from the stress of running but it was fine.

They get on the plane without Kevin and head to their seats. Most of the overhead storage is taken up at this point but Smith slides his bag under the middle seat in front of him after Matt

In the end, Kevin barely made it onto the plane in time since he got caught up in deciding on water. "You're in my seat." Kevin says as the only man not yet seated.

"I am not about to spend this flight getting up every 2 minutes because you have to pee." Matt says, "Abby didn't used to need to take all those pitstops when we're on the bus." Matt adds.

"I hate the aisle, the cart could hit my legs." Kevin argues.

"Then you can sit in the middle if Smith's willing to move." Matt says.

"You can have the middle Kevin." Smith offers actually preferring the aisle seat since then he doesn't have to ask anyone to move for him.

"I hate the middle seat, there is no room." Kevin crosses his arms.

"Smith is like only 3 inches shorter than you and he's not complaining." Matt continues.

"It's an important 3 inches."

"I bet it is."

"Nicky, are you serious?"

"What?!"

"There is an uninvolved member of the public, right there."

"He's wearing headphones it's fine!"

---

It's fine.

Eventually Kevin takes the middle seat if for no other reason than Matt stubbornly pretends to go to sleep but absolutely does not want the aisle seat either.

Smith gives it up and ends up with his own preferred seat while Kevin pointedly takes both of the arm rests, as is his right. The plane ride progresses smoothly from there. Smith has always liked flying. There is always a sense that the second that he gets onto the plane and the door closes he has absolutely zero control over what happens afterwards.

That is a nice comfort.

He pays attention to the safety briefing, finds his nearest exit, and that he should secure the bag over his own face before securing it on Kevin's.

He puts his headphones on and tries not to think about the anxiety of meeting the 'girls'.

He has heard much about the 'girls'.

Allison Reynolds. Allison was someone who's legacy existed even outside of the team. Smith didn't know much about fashion but a Reynolds bet remained a solid practice within Palmetto. She was, undeniably, absolutely gorgeous and if Kevin was to be believed 'kind of a bitch'. Nicky had swatted his arm but had said that it was not entirely inaccurate but like 'in the best way'.

Dan Wilds. He met Dan. Dan was nice. Also, if Matt was to be believed, the best human to ever walk the planet earth. The reason the sun rose in the east and set in the west. The gravitational pull that held the universe together. If Andrew is to be believed, she's fine.

Renee Walker. Renee was the one who taught Andrew how to use knives. His friend has talked warmly of her, in the way that Andrew talks warmly about anyone which is mentioning them at all. She was the one that Smith was the most anxious about meeting.

Kevin turns his nose up at the ginger ale that Smith gets but he's allowed these now per his actual doctors orders.

1 hour left until arriving at JFK.

He hopes this ginger ale is enough to calm his stomach since he's still not allowed Pepto.

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

#Fluent Freshman AU #Oh boy it feels nice to write this again #If I were to name this chapter something else it would be 'Smiths on a Plane'#MAN IT'S BEEN A MONTH #Moved #got my place painted #got new appliances because my old ones were older than me #Developed a life long hatred for whoever designed the barstools I bought from WayFair #It was not just what I needed #Anyway we're back #Smith's on a plane #About to meet the GIRLS #Kevin almost had to call Andreil to have them come back #There may have been some autographs given to the staff to be able to re-open the door for him.#He wanted mineral water and wanted to be selective on the minerals #I don't mean to write him like this but every time I write him he is like this #Matt is based on my sister in this regard with 'exact science' meanwhile I show up 4 hours early to a flight #Like no checked bag I'm TSA pre-checked #I have never missed a flight and I fear what i'd do if I did #Matt may be a bit of a Gomez for Dan but who can blame him #Next up Smith actually meets the girls #Fluent Freshman - 44 #AFTG #AFTG OC #AFTG AU #Palmetto State Foxes #AFTG Fic

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add1ctedt0you · 8 months

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Me, with the unpopular opinion that, in a wq lives au, where wq marries jc, novel canon wwx is not taking well the news about chengqing marriage

#Like post res wwx doesn't have nice thoughts about jc #I imagine him thinking: 'look jc hates me so much he has forced wq to marry him. Because it's a forced marriage. Why else would she have #Married jc??#Look at jc hating me so much he has ruined his and wq's life. Do you see him lz?'#And then idk. wwx is such a wild card #Maybe he would have forgotten the murder mister to investigate (apparently) forced chenqing marriage #While wq is already very done because jc is fretting over jl's first haunt. Their beloved daughters first day of school #Yes jc they have everything already. Lotus pier it's their sect... WHAT A-NING IS THERE? MY A-NING?#This au is probably wild #Who knows what wn feels there. Like Imo he doesn't like jc. Maybe even hates him. Uh #Someone should write something like that please

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cerise-on-top · 25 days

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hi :D if you do character x character (with possibly x reader, too) headcanons, may i request nikprice hcs? aghh.. i love them so much, but there's (in my opinion) little content of them compared to other ships.. if you do have to add reader into it too thats okay :) i don't mind poly (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

but besides that how are you doing? i hope youre doing good :]

Hey there! I'm doing well, thank you! I've actually got five days off next week, which I'm really looking forward to! Plus I get to go to my regular department again too soon enough! But unfortunately, the other apprentice left me with so much work ^^;

NikPrice and NikPrice x Reader

NikPrice:

Although the two of them may be a bit older than some of their peers, they can still be considered idiots, especially when they’re with one another. Sometimes they get weirdly competitive with each other, which can result in either of them getting hurt. Nikolai leads Chimera and Price leads the TF141, both of them sometimes need to show off just how good they are at some things. Nikolai is usually a pretty calm guy, but he does get a bit cocky with Price, so he’ll instigate some competitions. Who can carry the most groceries. Who can find the most dogs and take pictures with them. Who will be favored the most for the week among their boys. It’s just dumb things, and Nikolai does try to cheat his way through most of them, but Price knows him well enough by now to know how he will try to weasel his way into victory. Price usually plays fair and forces Nikolai to do the same. The winner gets bragging rights and that’s about it. Sometimes they poker on who pays for dinner, but they don’t really mess around too much when it comes to more serious stuff. However, they both also compete with each other to show off just how good of a partner they are, even if there’s no need to do that anymore. They can both be proud as peacocks and always need to outdo one another.

Although it may sound stupid, the two of them do spar with each other from time to time. Since they’re about equal in strength it’s actually quite interesting to watch the two of them fight, both have a pretty good technique as well. However, Nikolai has more experience under his belt since he’s quite a bit older than Price. Again, he’s also not above cheating by trying to entice Price with just about anything he can think of. They’re adults, they’re leaders, but they are still morons with each other. Sometimes they fight over the TV remote when Price wants to watch his football game and Nikolai wants to tease him. Price gets mad every time he misses the football game just because he lost to his stupid lover. Nikolai gets a good laugh out of it every time. Although he may love Price more than anyone else, he can be a playful and cocky bastard at times. He makes up for it by taking Price to a real football game in a stadium, though. Can’t enrage the boyfriend too much all the time. Price is usually overjoyed when he does since he gets really into it. There’s nothing better than enjoying some football with Nikolai. Unless Nikolai teases Price about his team losing. In that case the two of them won’t be talking more than necessary for an hour. However, Price goes back to normal after the initial anger of his team losing has worn off.

Nikolai is actually a chef of the master class. He can cook just about anything and make it well at that too. Since he’s been pretty much everywhere at this point he’s learned quite a few recipes from all around the world. He also knows how to use his spices well. Though, his favorite recipes to make are still Russian ones. The two of them cook together often, it relaxes them. Besides, Price gets the privilege of eating Nikolai’s pirozhki before anyone else does. It’s an honor to him since he’s never had anything better in his life. Loves being Nikolai’s taste tester as well. Price isn’t as good a cook as Nikolai, but he does like showing his appreciation for all the good food by cooking something in return. However, his food is kind of bland. It could be worse, but it could also use a lot more spices. Nikolai used to tease Price about that before, but he’s stopped since as Price really does put a lot of effort into cooking for Nikolai. The latter really isn’t so mean to genuinely hurt his boyfriend like that. He does give Price some constructive criticism, though. Offers to help with cooking next time, but both of them know that Nikolai will just take the lead. But in the end, they both really do enjoy cooking with each other, regardless of who makes the main dish. They also get really chatty during it.

NikPrice x Reader

Considering how long they’ve been with each other, they've gotten used to it, but you genuinely cannot cuddle them during summer. You’ll become a sweaty mess and won’t be able to sleep at all since they’re both very warm. Nikolai more so than Price. However, the two of them can cuddle each other just fine since they’re used to warmer nights because of all the missions they’ve gone on. However, it’s pretty nice in winter. They’re two big, burly and warm men who love to make you feel toasty. Price is actually a pretty cuddly guy and Nikolai can be too with the right people. If you’re not on the cuddly side then they’ll settle for giving you a pat on the back every once in a while or just holding your hand. But Price loves touching you and Nikolai. He doesn’t need to do it every single waking moment, but it’s nice to hold your loved ones. Nikolai can go either way, but he’s pretty cuddly with Price. Sometimes the two of them fight over who gets to be the big spoon, other times they’ll just plop into each other’s arms. If you’re shorter than them then you’ll likely get sandwiched between them. If you’re as tall or taller than them then they might ask you to take on the role of big spoon. Sure, they won’t mind it when you’re shorter than them, but they’ll chuckle since you’re just a little backpack.

Both of them will try to teach you how to fight and defend yourself. Even if you’re capable of that already, they’ll teach you something anyway. They’re both military men, they know what they’re talking about. Besides, it’s not as unlikely as one might think that you might get hurt because of them. You need to be able to defend yourself. They’ll take turns teaching you, improving your form and all. They’ll sometimes even deliberately spar in front of you so you could learn something from them fighting with each other. They won’t be as rough with you as they are with each other, especially not if you’re not part of the military, but they’ll be diligent in teaching you either way. If you’re part of the military then they’ll be rougher with you, but not as rough as with each other. Nikolai and Price have known each other for so long, they know where each other’s limits are. You’re the newest addition, so there’s still things they need to get to know. But I can assure you they will take good care of you. They’ll also reward you if you’re doing especially well during your little training lessons. Nikolai tries to bribe you into doing well by offering to cook your favorite meal if you do so.

The two of them actually spoil you rotten, especially if you don’t earn as much money as they do. Nikolai earns even more money than Price, so he has quite a lot to spend. Loves buying you and him all kinds of things. These can range from something useful to just something he saw and thought you might like. Price doesn’t like being indebted to people, so he always tries to buy Nikolai something back, even insisting that he shouldn’t buy him as many things. Nikolai never listens to him in that regard. And since Price buys Nikolai things he has to buy something for you as well. Sometimes it’s just your favorite kind of cake, sometimes it’s some nice and expensive jewelry. It’s always a mystery with Price. You don’t have to feel obligated to buy them something either. You’re more than welcome to if you have the finances to do so, but if you usually barely get by then you really shouldn’t have to. In fact, if you don’t have a lot of money then the two of them will pay for just about anything you need. Clothes, food, other necessities. It doesn’t matter. Together they have more money than they know what to do with anyway. It’s nice to spend it on someone you love and make them happy anyway. Don’t pay them back, they’ll find your bank account and return the money. They love you, let them pamper you like the little royalty you are.

#cod #cod x reader #cod nikolai #john price #nikolai x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #nikprice #nikprice x reader #I never really thought about writing charxchar on this blog in all honesty #but I suppose I can do it if more requests like this come in :] I doubt it but I'm willing to do it #I loved working on this because they may be smart but they're also complete and utter dumbasses #they're smart when it counts let's leave it at that #I actually have thought about being in a relationship with NikPrice before but I sometimes throw Graves into the mix as well #there's nothing wrong about yearning to be in a relationship with some men who could buy you something nice #and who would actually love you #see fictional characters are actually really good because they will always love you if you want them to #ugh I wanna cuddle these idiots so bad which is funny because I'm actually touch averse 95% of the time #but I just know that a good thorough cuddle session from those men would put me in a really good mood

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lord-squiggletits · 3 months

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The reason this fandom hates IDW Optimus isn't because he's a cop (plenty of people are fine with Prowl) or because he's a bastard (most characters in IDW are) but because he commits the crime of being an actual person who's messy, flawed, and makes a shitload of high stakes mistakes fitting for the intense situations and pressure he's put under constantly.

But we can't have Optimus actually react to his situations by lashing out or being unpleasant, no, he has to have the personality of a cardboard cutout of G1 whose only defining personality traits are "dad, funny, nice," and if he ever vents negative emotions it can only ever be #relatable depression or him being sad on his own without ever letting it show during the important parts of the story. If Optimus dares do things like be angry or frustrated or bitter it's just a sign that he's a bastard and LITERALLY the worst Optimus ever. If Optimus ever makes mistakes or does wrong things in the heat of anger/frustration/stress it's because he's just an evil bastard with no redeeming traits.

God forbid Optimus go through an unending gauntlet of war, politics, atrocities, near-complete loneliness, and a seemingly endless cycle of violence for his entire life and come out of it kind of bitter, angry, and tired of dealing with people's shit. He's not allowed to be a realistic person, context doesn't matter, sympathy doesnt matter. IDW Optimus doesn't fulfill the fandom's fantasies of Father Figure or Perfect Cultural Icon or Twinky Fucktoy and since that's the only reason most people care about Optimus in general, the fandom collectively trashes on IDW OP.

All because he can't fit into the overly simplified and childlike double standard the fandom has where if any other character is messy and flawed, that's good writing and interesting and compelling, but if OPTIMUS is messy and flawed, he's Literally The Worst and he's an asshole for no other reason than He Sucks, context be damned

#squiggposting #ive been here too long and seen the same shit too many times #i'm tired of going 'maybe it's just a difference in taste' nope #the issue is literally just double standards and people not reading the text or taking things out of context #and the worst part is if this were just something OP haters did i would get it #after all if you just dont like OP then of course you arent gonna find anything interesting or compelling #but i see this shit from literally other MOP fans who supposedly love M and OP #but their OP takes are shit and i can count the no. of people who write IDW OP on one hand #i kind of thought that at least among other OP fans there would be deeper readings but if anything it's worse #fandom OP content is 50% haha funny dad jokes g1 knockoff OP and 50% yaoi uke twink sad baby OP #so unimaginative. so fucking boring. so immature #to style yourselves some sort of mature TF fans and then viciously reject the One OP who #dared to be written a little darker and more flawed than any others #it's literally just people refusing to give a chance to any nuanced take on OP #they just want him to be There and Nice and for his biggest flaw to be Being Annoying About Equality or something #might delete later might not

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cryptiduni · 11 months

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“white mourning.”

#‘‘A white mourning. A modern death. Divorce or something similar. All you can do is put more distance between you & him. make him smaller.’’#jean is a very easy character to hate if you know nothing about him. & you know what they say. easy target doesn’t make for a good practice #judit literally compares harry to intellectually disabled man yet you don’t see ppl hating her because she is outwardly nice.#she’s polite yes but she doesn’t care as much as jean cares for harry #he is not perfect. he is mean. but loyal. if he truly didn't care he wouldn't hab come back to martinaise & coulda just reported harry’s as #he put up with du bois’ bullshit for years and built a toxic (totally straight) relationship with him yet always comes back.#he says he will leave you in the village to die but please understand harry isn't exactly a great person. especially pre-bender hdb.#planned a make up joke & put on a wig for hdb even tho he wasn’t the who started the whole fiasco #you can hate him all you want for leaving harry before & during tribunal but how could he have foreseen all this bullshit would have happen #his second leaving is kinda bullshit writing but #jv is dealing with his own demons too. clinical depression. partner almost died. job is shit. case spiraling out control #i do not blame the DE staff either. sometimes shit just happens. not everything needs a grand explanation.#but it definitely coulda been handled better. but i understand. resources were sparse.#i relate to jv. as someone with temper issues & attention problems i have to remove myself from the scene or i'll say shit i'd regret late #my man is having the worst week of his life. leave him alone.#kim is great but have u heard of a man who thinks he's old when he is only 30 & luvs horses & his commie boyfriend that he's divorcin' soon #disco elysium #de fanart #jean vicquemare #disco elysium fanart #jean heron vicquemare #jean posting #illustration #de #artists on tumblr #my art #I WANTED TO DRAW THIS FOR MONTHSSS YOU COULDN'T IMAGINE. HE LITERALLY HAUNTED ME IN MY SLEEP!!!#i love him normal amount. very healthy. much feelings #my little maiu maiu

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ghosttotheparty · 1 year

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also on ao3

(cw: tics, bullying)

Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.

Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)

'S just a shiver, I'm fine.

He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.

It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.

The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.

They got worse.

By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.

That year, he became the freak.

At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.

He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)

His tics got worse.

In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.

Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--

So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.

No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.

He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.

And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.

Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.

He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.

He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--

But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.

And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.

Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.

Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.

The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.

Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.

When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.

This one goes here, right?

Yeah.

On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.

It's okay. It's okay.

And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.

He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.

When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?

Steve kisses him.

And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.

One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.

Steve just says, Mine too.

#welcome to projection central #hand wrote this during a lecture today bc i was bored and realised a lot of ppl write/hc eddie as autistic and w adhd #but usually those are the only kinda neurodivergencies i see in fan content #(pretend thats a word)#but then i thought eddie having tics would make sense for his character and i have Experience to write from so #(disclaimer i was not bullied in school nor was i removed from classes (unless i left on my accord bc i wanted to hide in the bathroom))#(some kids teased me or mimicked me or told me to 'do it again' but i dealt w them)#(and the one kid that was really a dick ended up being rly nice by the time we graduated he's cool)#(and i got lucky w my teachers i think they were all very sweet and considerate)#(but i thought this story would make sense and go along with eddies story in the canon)#anyway give eddie tics #anotther hc that his tics calm down/stop when he's playing guitar and playing d&d #mine arent as bad as they were in high school but back then (and on bad days now) they usually calm down #when im focused on something or doing something i enjoy (ie drawing or painting or st)#steddie #steddie oneshot #eddie munson #eddie munson oneshot #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #stranger things #stranger things one shot

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oshiawaseni · 1 year

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Japan’s concept of confession and why Ochaco might not confess

“Confession” is a big deal in a country as subtle as Japan. Not all people have the courage to confess, but when starting official relationships confessions are often expected. This is what I know confessions to be like in the world of manga: Person A talks alone with Person B and shares with them the secrets of their heart. “I like you please accept my feelings.” This usually ends either with them going out or A being rejected by B. The usual reason for the rejection is “I like someone else.”

I’ve been having some more ideas about the day Izuku fell into Kacchan’s arms and how what Kacchan did for him was almost confessional in a way. He told Izuku what was in his heart, why he bullied him and that no matter how much he tried, he just couldn’t escape him. He called him “Izuku” and we saw the impact this had on Izuku’s face.

Izuku just couldn’t believe that Kacchan was calling his name properly for the first time in 12 years, it completely shocked him, and after apologising for everything, he told Izuku, “Come home, let’s do this together. We need to help each other in this fight against AFO.”

The conclusion of this confession was that Izuku acquiesced to 1-A’s request for him to return, but it was only really possible because his attachment to Kacchan triumphed over his motivations to stay away. It was Kacchan who broke down his walls with his apology. It was Kacchan who filled him with hope that things would be better, and Kacchan who finally hammered into Izuku how important it was for him to be part of the collective. That his inclusion was very wanted and needed, and that he in turn can rely more on everyone as well. That together, they can push forward, trusting in and helping each other.

I think what hurt Izuku the most during his solo arc was being away from his friends, but especially Kacchan. Because that day in the rain, he literally gave up on his solo vigilante mindset for him. After hearing Kacchan’s unbelievable words he had patiently longed to hear for years, it was impossible for Izuku to stay away from him any longer. As he passed out, he stumbled a few steps towards Kacchan who, without missing a beat, caught him in his arms and gently held him. This embrace told us “From now on it’ll be different. I’m gonna be here for you, Izuku.”

So to recap all of that... Kacchan became vulnerable and spilled what was in his heart, Izuku accepted his desires, with it all culminating in them becoming closer. Which is just like a successful romantic confession!?

I think after watching this all go down, something inside Ochaco clicked. A lot of the class are rushing over to Izuku when Kacchan catches him because they’re just so worried about him, but a few of them, Ochaco included, stay standing back. It doesn’t make much sense at all. But we’re given a zoom in of her without knowing any of the thoughts going through her mind.

They got Izuku back, but she doesn’t really seem all that happy. Momo says to her “this is just the first obstacle we aren’t done yet” and she agrees. Ochaco knows that there’s still more they as a group need to do for Izuku to make his return happen. But the fact that there’s a few panels dedicated to zooming in on her staying put, her almost emotionless face (mirroring Shoto’s) while she’s watching Kacchan save Izuku and his new unbridled intimacy he has with him - could be telling us that there’s something else she’s processing.

Is this moment somber for her because she realised the person Izuku needs the most is none other than the person he has openly admired since she first met him? The very same person who always bared his fangs at Izuku because he was scared him getting close?

Was Ochaco witnessing the beginning of something new between them and suddenly finding herself sidelined as a contender for Izuku’s affections?

Somehow… this could be what it was all about. And that’s why I think there’s a good chance Ochaco gave up her crush on Izuku for good when she witnessed Katsuki return his love and embrace him after that emotionally-charged apology. After this, a more defined distance between her and Izuku appears visible in their next scene together. A respectful distance of Izuku’s own choosing.

It was like a definitive line had been drawn out that can’t and perhaps shouldn’t be crossed. Maybe they both understood that the person Izuku wanted close by his side has always been Katsuki. That desire wasn’t simply a pipe dream to Izuku anymore, it had become reality. And who is Ochaco to get in the way of that?

And then it’s almost like she is bookending Katsuki’s confession to Izuku with a confession of her own about Toga, putting a close to the Izuocha chapter and she makes a comment which feels double in meaning. “I guess that means we are the same.” or You love a boy, just like I might love a girl. (To put it bluntly)

And Izuku remembers this line again after he gets separated from Kacchan and Ochaco is telling him to go. Go back to Tenko. Go back to your Kacchan.

The concept of “knowing how someone feels because you love them and always watch over them” comes up from time to time in manga. In a way, that’s also a reason why Kacchan and Izuku understand each other as deeply as they do and they aren’t afraid of showing it off. They were always watching each other from a safe distance and learning things about each other in this way. I think during chapter 322, this concept is what was happening to cause such a realisation in Ochaco. (And it’s also for this reason Tsuyu, who never had feelings for Izuku, still doesn’t get it.)

It was hard for her, knowing everything she does about Izuku’s deep attachment to Kacchan, to learn that Izuku’s affections for him weren’t one-sided and they were now closer than ever before… That’s why I don’t think she’ll want to get in the way by confessing anymore. If Kacchan’s apology was intended to be compared with a romantic confession, then Ochaco is probably aware that Izuku already “has someone he likes”… and that person isn’t her.

#bakudeku #idk if this is Hopium copium or whatever it’s just my thoughts and feelings lately on ochaco’s state of mind #and why I don’t think a confession is going to happen #prone to being wrong at any time ofc lollol #but that said I also fantasise about Izuku rejecting her if she does haha 😂#it would make for the best kohei troll ever #I think she’s going to accept togas feelings too #so there’s that #Katsuki’s feelings for Izuku aren’t going to be shoved aside #it’s mutual lol it has to be #kacchan loves deku #deku loves kacchan #op #Bnha meta #kana writes #I WAS GOING TO WAIT TO POST THIS BUT NO MHA THIS WEEK #LETS FALL INTO DELUSION TOGETHER MY SISTERS #i hope this makes even a little bit of sense but even if it doesnt then #I still hope you got a kick out of reading it!#this is all only my thoughts/theories - hopefully something nice to think about :)#<3 #must read meta #bkdk canon #oopsss

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hammill-goes-fogwalking · 1 month

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I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI.

#not dislike. its hate #it made me cry several times today #thinking of how my classmates manipulate our teachers #and chatgpt AIs can EVERYTHING #its so painful to think of it #today I broke down in the bus and cried #idc what people think. hiding my feelings any longer would destroy me from the inside #maybe youve also seen how people use freakin AIs in their exams #the thing is that:#we wrote an exam for which Ive studies for like 2 whole days #this week we finally got the exams back (w the grades ofc)#and ok Ive got a 3 (C in America syste #*m)#my friends who used chatgpt throughout the exam got way better grades (I didnt expect it otherwise)#PLUS #the most provocating messages from the teacher:#“10/10 POINTS :)” “YOURE ROCKING THIS” “YEAH”#💔#seriously #this breaks my heart #dont the teacher see something suspect in the exam?!#why cant they open their eyes and get modernized to reality.#& they KNOW- the students Im talking of. they usally have bad results.#once our teacher came to a chatgpt student and said the most miserable thing:#“youve been using duolingo a lot lately hm? thats where your nice grades come from 😉🥰”#you get it?#no- this peoson didnt learn.#no- this person isnt even interested in the stuff we learn in lessons #AWFUL feeling to hear the praisings of da teachers when *I* gotta sit among the gpt-students and look like Im a worse student than *them*#[writing this at almost 1 at night] still have some tears. this topic really has the power to destroy someones day. 💔💔

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sluckythewizard · 8 days

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Keep calm, and drink soda

[CW for blood and gore and vomit] takes place a day or two after emizel was sired. just two boys adjusting to a shift in their daily norms. would YOU drink your homies blood? still not used to writing fanfic so any and all advice IS appreciated. i hope u enjoy.

There were very few things that Soda enjoyed more than well, drinking soda. It was a hobby, an interest, a comfort. And by extension there were very few errands that Soda would look forward to more than the occasional soda run.

The gas station closest to the Demons hideout had stopped selling Faygo entirely about a month or two ago, and it was near impossible to find it anywhere else. The closest place was now this janky little Shell gas station, lovingly titled the Shady Shell, that thankfully sold more flavors than any of the other ones ever did.

It made the hour and a half walk here entirely worth it. Even if this side of town made his skin crawl. Normally he would ask someone to accompany him on this daring little quest, but everyone at the hide out tonight just seemed too tired, too preoccupied, too uninterested.

He knew not everyone really got the soda thing, but they were accepting of it for the most part. Soda is something that, clearly, Soda really loves, but he knew not everyone else was into it.

Which was fine, of course. They didn't need to get it. But, still, sometimes Soda found himself wondering how much of it was a bit, and how much was him.

Emizel gets it perfectly though. He would've been the first person Soda would ask to go on this soda run with him, but, well. He's been preoccupied too, with the whole vampire thing.

It's been a bit more than a day since Soda had last seen his close comrade. For a friend that he saw just about everyday, going without him this long left him feeling a little emptier.

That was fine, though. Emizel had shit he was working out, he had things he needed to do. It's not like he could go out in the day anymore, so of course Soda wouldn't be seeing him at all the usual times.

It was a lot of weird and heavy magical stuff, it made Soda think about those superhero shows. Where the hero needs to keep his identity hidden from everyone. Family especially. He knows how much of a piece of shit Emizels dad is, so he hoped that Emizels home life wasn't stirred up all stupid-like over this.

He hasn't told anyone else, about what happened that night. For the last 2 days, Soda would spend time with close friends and not let them know a thing about what happened to Emizel so, so recently. Why he's so suddenly absent, so distant, so.. off…

'Maybe his dad's just giving him a hard time', he would say, hoping to smother their questions. The less questions they ask, the better. At least until this vampire stuff gets figured out a bit more. Should Emizel wear a disguise when he goes out at night now? Just like a superhero? What kind of hero outfit would Emizel have anyways? Soda figured it would be something really cool.

If anyone could figure out a way to balance all this vampire stuff, and all the leaderly responsibilities that come with being the biggest dog in the Demons, it was Emizel for sure. That guy is so seriously cool.

He was sure this rough patch would even out, and they would weather the next rough patch together no problem. There was really nothing to worry about! All Soda has to do is stay positive, and well, drink soda.

As Soda walks quietly down the crumbling sidewalks of this dreary hive of strip malls and shops, he goes to pull his backpack around to his chest, fumbling with the zipper in the dark. Which was a little annoying, considering the tab of his zipper had fallen off forever ago. He really needed to get around to fixing this damn thing. Maybe another ziptie and a soda tab will do the trick.

Humid air hangs heavy in the night, the sidewalks still somewhat warm after a hotter day. The diesel-soaked air provided enough warmth on its own that Soda had considered taking his jacket off a few times, only for the occasional, annoyingly sharp and chilly breeze to brush by, reminding him to keep the thing on.

Tripping only once and only slightly on an uneven sidewalk, Soda manages to pull a bottle of Faygo from his backpack, a smile glowing on his face. Another short fight with the zipper seals up the bag, and he slings it over his shoulder again.

His flavor of choice tonight was actually the Red Pop, the tried and true, the absolute classic, one of the best Faygo flavors for sure.

But, this kind wasn't actually his favorite. Normally he would stock up on the cotton candy ones, but something about the last few days had him craving the red stuff.

Securing his backpack all the way, he goes to crack open the bottle. Just the clack and the hisssss of the fizzy drink were enough to lift his mood.

Not that his mood needed lifting or anything. Of course. Sure he missed his friend and sure he found himself wondering what he’s doing and where he is and if he's okay. Maybe sometimes he found himself wishing they talked about funeral plans more.

Emizel talked up all sorts of crazy funeral ideas for himself, usually involving the use of his dead body as an inconvenience for others. Outlandish and hilarious ideas, like filling it with explosives and tossing it into a busy road. But what would he want seriously? What would Soda ever do if he just stopped showing up one day?

He had to swallow down all these unnecessary anxieties, so he took a swig of his soda. Sweet, bubbly, comforting. He felt better already! Just stay positive, and drink soda..

It was a lovely night out, and he didn't come all this way planning on letting it go to waste. There was a place he was heading towards, a particular alleyway in this particular place that led off to a particularly tall concrete ledge.

It was a run-down little space, littered with trash and shitty trees and those bushes with just too many goddamn ants in them. But the view was fairly nice, overlooking a massive deformed intersection. A particularly stupid one, at that; about 3 times a week you could witness a gnarly crash at this spot. Soda always heard people saying that LA folks can't drive, but he was just starting to figure that maybe no one can drive.

That was the place he really wanted to go to enjoy this soda, and he wasn't too far off from it. Just a few more blocks, and he would be there.

Oh wait, didn't he still have a bag of chips in this backpack somewhere? Hell yeah, he couldn't wait to sit down and relax with a good soda, a good snack, and a good view of the night.

Living as a Demon had its fair share of stresses. He felt lucky to have this life, but he knew well that it could be better. That not everyone has to worry about survival the way they do. That not everyone gets injured on the regular and not everyone has to worry about being sick and never getting better.

Living is hard. But it's finding the small moments of joy that make it all worth it. Dying would be scarier anyway. He didn't want to die, and he felt glad to feel so confident in that nowadays.

The sudden THUNK of something slamming into the ground just a block away from him, jolts him out of his thoughts, all his gears screeching to a halt as he freezes in place. What the fuck was that?

It looked like a person, laying flat on the ground with only their head and shoulders peeking out of the alleyway ahead. Fuck. He hated this side of town..

Anxiety churns in his stomach as he debates just turning around, but the way the victim reaches an arm out, attempting to crawl away; it made his heart ache aswell. he's no goddamn fighter, but he couldn't just leave someone like th-

The body is suddenly yanked back into the alley, snatched at a startling speed. It didn't feel exactly real, how could something vanish so fast? It reminded Soda of something from a horror movie, or whatever. What the fuck was that??

His foot takes a step forward, before the rest of his body notices its rebellion and locks down again. Was he seriously going to investigate that? He could just walk away and take another alley. But that was the one he was supposed to turn down! All the other alleys are either walled off or gated off and he wasn't about to go climbing over a damn wire gate. His soda would get too shaken up! Fuck!

Another foot goes in for another step forward. He's gotta get the fuck out of here. He could hear more commotion in the alleyway, a scuffle, a skirmish. He could hear someone cursing through a choked breath. A loud and nauseating crack echoes out from the alley, and yet, Soda takes another step forward.

This was stupid, he shouldn't be getting tangled up in someone else's business. What if something happened to all this soda?

Thankfully, it was that thought that actually got him to pause, and take in a deep breath. It wasn't worth it, maybe he should head straight home.

Atleast, that was the thought his heart and mind were about to agree on, until a particularly familiar grroowwwwlll bleeds out from the alley.

Emizel?

All reason immediately evaporates as Soda makes that connection in his head, stepping right up to the corner of the brick walls, and peering around to investigate.

There was a body on the floor, face down in a puddle of red, head split open in a way that reminded Soda of a smashed watermelon.

But standing over that body, was the familiar, blackened coat, and short blonde hair, of Sodas closest comrade, Emizel.

Despite the carnage on the floor, Soda couldn't help the smile that lights up his face. That was Emizel! That was his boy!

But before he could get over just how happy he felt to see his best friend, something else caught his eye. Movement, behind the dumpster closest to the vampire boy. A person, rising out from the shadows with a glinting baseball bat clutched fiercely in their hands.

"Oh fuck, look out!" Soda speaks up, and Emizels gaze immediately clicks over to him, silencing Soda with just that startlingly red stare.

He had forgotten just how uneasy those red eyes made him..

The attacker, silent and professional, rushes up behind Emizel and CRACKS the metal bat downwards onto his blonde head, the sound ringing out like a gun shot in that dark little alleyway.

Soda cringes from just the sound of the impact, but was amazed to find that the bat had warped under the force of it!

The attacker hardly had a chance to process his mangled weapon before Emizel whips around to retaliate.

It looked like he had just swung his hand at his opponent, so the way a shower of red spills outward from the slash, catches Soda completely off guard. The monster boy had cleaved an excruciatingly massive gash up from the attackers right hip, to his left shoulder, the slice spewing with scarlet.

It wasn't until Emizel had pulled back his arm, that Soda could process the way it had darkened with more than just blood, distorted into an odd, spear-like shape.

The victim hardly had a chance to yelp before that blade swoops up into his chest at the speed of a snapping bear trap, plunging through meat and bone with disturbing ease, and forcing blood and viscera to erupt outwards. The red patters down onto the concrete behind, the sound similar to rain...

With another low, inhuman snarl, Emizel brings the twitching, dying body closer, until that signature squish of teeth sinking into fresh meat bleeds outward into the space.

What a disgusting sound, Sodas first instinct was to simply avert his eyes, but as the sound persists, he resolves that he has to do something.

He finally steps out into the alley, and speaks.

"Hey ma-"

He could hardly get two words out before Emizel suddenly rips its teeth away from its victims throat, tearing out a hefty chunk of jellied meat, and slamming the remaining fodder onto the concrete floor.

It immediately whips around to stare down Soda, red eyes glowing with reflected light, and with hardly a chance to process the moment-

-It's immediately right infront of Soda.

A gasp lurches from Soda's lungs as he almost stumbles back in shock. How was Emizel so fucking fast?

Other than that single step back, Soda was frozen in shock, his tongue buzzing with the physical pain of such a startling jolt. 'White boy jumpscare' is something that came to mind, but while usually such a thought would evoke some sort of laugh from Soda, this time it offered no such comfort. Okay maybe it did a little.

Emizels snarling face was only inches away from Sodas. Its eyes were wild and unnatural, teeth menacingly sharp and reddened with so much fucking blood. It was everywhere, coating most of his face, smothering his shirt and his coat, and absolutely choking the air with its thick, metallic stench.

Soda would gag if he felt he was safe to even move. He felt like he was locking eyes with that of a creature, something he would only ever see in his nightmares or in scary movies. But it was real. Those monsters are real. And his best friend is one of those monsters. His bestest friend in the world...

His mind was skewered on that unnatural glare, completely frozen with anxiety. Stalling too hard to come to a proper conclusion, Soda instead falls back onto what Soda does best.

"H-hey man... You want some soda?"

He very gently presses the opened bottle of Faygo into Emizels chest.

The two boys stand there for a moment, locked in a tense, silent pause, before the monster boy finally peels its gaze down to the bottle.

It's quiet, for a few seconds, the gears turning in its head. Until the monster blinks, and its eyes clear, and Emizel processes the sight of the bottle.

"Oh, fuck yeah dude, is that the Candy Apple Faygo? Man, that stuffs my favorite!" Emizel smiles as he goes to accept the bottle, and immediately takes a massive swig.

Soda tries to disregard the way his hands were still shaking. "Uh, n-nah man, its just Red Po-"

The words are bit off as Emizel suddenly retches, a heavy flood of red blood and red Faygo spewing out onto Soda, as the vampire boys body entirely rejects the fizzy drink.

The shock of getting fucking projectile vomited on had snapped Soda out of whatever daze he was just in, and it seemed to snap Emizel out of it too. Soda backs up with a groan, looking down at all the blood and bile and pop on his shirt and coat.

"Ohhh fuck dude, what the hell??" He cringes, not even wanting to try smearing any of it off with his hand.

Emizel was coughing, still holding out the Faygo bottle, but hunched over as his body dared to convulse again.

"Ohhhhhh fuck, ohhooohhh fuuuuucckkk" he grumbles towards the floor "Fuuuck I’m sorry dude, I don't know what fuckin- oohhhgg shit,” He coughs and groans, offering the bottle back to Soda.

Soda was still staring at his messied coat with a displeased grimace, but looking up to meet Emizels eyes...

There was a guilt on Emizels face that Soda didn't see too often, and it helped wash away that irritation he felt. This sucked, but Emizel was probably going through a lot more.

“It’s, uhm.. don't, don't worry about it, man..” Soda decides to reassure him, offering a sympathetic smile, and a hand on Emizels shoulder, as his comrade spits out the remaining blood and bile.

"Fuckin hell… I’m uh, I'm sorry about your shirt, man."

"What? Nahh it's okay man, don’t worry about it." Soda shrugs, taking the Faygo bottle back. "I mean, are you okay man? That uh.. looked like a pretty crazy fight."

Emizel was rubbing his eyes, smearing more blood across his face as he seems to be collecting himself. he spares a glance back at the carnage behind him.

"Ah.. yeah.. I thought I uh.. I thought I saw that one fucker from uh. That one night. Yknow, the one that uh.." He snaps his fingers, as if trying to summon back the memory. "Vampire bitch... Anyway after that I just kind of, uh.."

He seems to space out again as he looks around. It was as if he was just woken up from a deep sleep, like he was certain he had just known what he was doing, but found the dream escaping him. "I guess I just.. went crazy on these guys. I dunno, they're Fangs anyways." he finally shrugs it all off, but Soda still felt unsatisfied by the answer.

"Oh.. huh…” is the only response he manages to scrounge together. Sure they were Fangs, but did they really deserve.. all that? It just seemed a bit brutal, even by Emizels standards.

He found his eyes wandering over to the split-open head. It was mostly red and bloody, but even in the dark, he could still make out some of the finer details of the gray jelly seeping from the gash. A human brain. He wondered if his own brain looked the same on the inside..

“So what are you doing out here, man?” Emizels question helps Soda pull his eyes away from the gore, instead looking over to his bloodied comrade.

Emizel looked messy and even exhausted, but his drowsy gaze was focused on Soda with a worried expression.

“Oh, uh, yknow, just a soda run. Decided I would stock up on some Faygo from the Shady Shell.” Soda shrugs, his eyes flickering down to the opened Faygo in his hand. The top was covered in regurgitated blood. unnaturally blackened blood…

“Are you.. okay, by the way? Other than the whole..” Soda gestures vaguely at the gruesome crime scene. “Are you hurt?”

The question has Emizel pausing to consider. He straightens his back and stretches his arms, as if trying to detect any pain from any possible injury. Nothing seemed to be bothering him though, and after a second, he decides to shrug.

“Nah, I'm all good.”

“Oh.. That's good, I uh…” Soda found himself looking over Emizel aswell, searching for any wounds the monster boy might be simply disregarding, as he often does.

There was a fairly gnarly gash on his shin..

“Hey uh, I was actually gonna go hang out by the ledge down that way. Yknow, the one with the funny intersection.” Soda says, gesturing off towards where he intended to go. “Wanna come with?”

Emizel looks back that way, before turning back to Soda with a big smile on his face.

“Oh hell yeah I do! I love the funny intersection!” he starts to walk down the alley, about to step over the body of the broken skull, when Soda speaks up.

“Uh, hey, shouldn't we uh.. Do something about the.. uh..” He waves a hand over towards the bodies, trying not to look directly at them.

Emizel spares the corpses an inconvenienced glance, and a sigh, but ultimately shrugs them off. “Ehhh I'll just dump 'em in a dumpster again.. That's what I've been doing anyway.”

“And you're not worried about, like, anyone finding them?”

Soda anxiously watches on as Emizel paces around the body with the torn-out throat, licking the blood from his own mouth. Was his tongue always that long and pointed? That's neat, and normally Soda would point it out, but he was a bit.. preoccupied right now

“Nahh not really. I haven't had anyone bother me at least.. Anyone been bothering you?” Emizels eyes finally flick back over to Soda.

“Nah, I'd say things are actually more lax than usual. Anything that would end up being trouble’s been pretty much crushe- er, killed- destr- stamped out, by uh, by you.” Sods was cringing with every attempt to find a word that didn’t make his stomach turn, but Emizel didn’t seem to notice or mind.

Emizels eyes were currently a bit more focused on the body laying before him. He had that weird look on his face again…

“Uhh, yeah, yeah that's good that uh, no troubles coming back to you guys…”

There’s a moment of quiet between the two as Emizel stares at this corpse, and Soda was about to open his mouth to fill the silence, but Emizel speaks up instead.

“Hey uh, why don’t you go ahead of me? I’ll uh, I'll meet you at the place.” He suggests, pointing vaguely off down the alley, but not removing his eyes from the kill.

Soda certainly hesitates, his eyes narrowing before he even forms a thought. He opens his mouth to object, but then his eyes flicker back towards the body.

“Are you gonna eat this one too?”

The question leaves Sodas mouth as soon as it comes to mind.

Emizel pauses, and considers, before giving a shrug. “I don't see why not. Perfectly good blood.” He reaches down to grab his kill by the shirt, the one with the split open head. As the corpse rises from the concrete, gray matter drips and sloughs from the crack in its skull. Once again, Soda felt the need to look away, and yet his stupid eyes remained fixated on the horrendous sight. Emizel looks over the spilling brain of his meal, licking his lips curiously. “Dude, what do you think would happen if I ate his brain?” Emizel asks, looking back over to Soda with a wild, bloodied smile. Something about that look made Soda shiver, but.. Not really in a bad way… “Uh, I.. Dunno…. Eating a persons brain is how you get like, mad cow disease right? But you might also be immune to disease.. Are you immune to disease?” “Uhhh, I don't know yet actually. I'm still figuring out how much of this is like video games,” Emizel says, rubbing the back of his head as he idly sways the body of his kill around, watching the blood and gore drip and drop from its broken head. “Eh, I'll chance it later.” Without another word or thought, Emizel goes to sink his teeth into the shoulder of his kill, a pleased growl radiating from him as the blood gushes around the bite. More fresh blood upon less fresh blood upon old blood upon older blood. Just so much fucking blood. Soda thought he was used to seeing blood, but this… this was just egregious. Was he really starting to get used to this? It’s just blood after all, and it’s not from his comrades, so it's… fine… He finally manages to pull his eyes away from the gruesome sight of Emizel feeding, but his eyes instead wander down to the blood on his own shirt. Emizels blood was strange, darker than usual, and carrying a different scent. Something about the smell of his blood was more savory, more appealing than the standard metallic miasm. His shirt was smothered in it, his jacket was coated in it, and his opened bottle of Faygo was also splattered with the deep red ichor. Ink swirls within the bottle of red fizzy, spreading out into all sorts of odd patterns. It was a lot of blood. He was certain a lot of it came from however many people Emizels been feeding on. With how much hes been terrorizing the Fangs in just the last few days, and with how nonchalantly he feasts on his kills, who knows how much blood hes actually ingested… Soda swirls the bottle, watching the blood inside thin out into strands, dancing within the bubbly soda as they gradually dissipate, fully assimilating into the drink. A bad idea chews at the back of his head… The sound of ripping flesh once again knocks at Sodas head. He doesn’t look up this time, but he knew Emizel was just playing with his food again.. Did blood taste good to a vampire? Did some blood taste better than others? What did Sodas blood taste like? What did Emizels blood taste like? There's a visceral snap of something among the chewing and ripping, very clearly a bone or a joint snapping out of place. It made Soda shiver a little. When did his heart start pounding? There's an animal standing only 8 feet away from him, feeding on its kill. That animal is a person, and so is its kill. He wanted to know what vampire blood tasted like, but he already knew what human blood tasted like. It hung so densely in the air, he could feel it forming a vile film over his tongue. The blood of a person just like him. Eaten by an animal that eats people. All this stress was no good. This bile rising to his throat was no good. This creeping anxiety was no good. He's friends with an animal that eats people. Would it eat him? This weird feeling was no good. Maybe it will never eat him. But it needs to eat people. This worry was no good. He needed to wash this awful taste from his mouth, replace it with something sweeter. He needed to keep his head clear enough to be there for Emizel when he needed to be. He needed to hold a light to these shadows. And he needed to stay positive, and drink soda. He takes a swig of the open Faygo bottle.

#NO MAIN TAGS WE DIE LIKE ROADKILL #WOW ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOUR BESTEST FRIEND IN THE WHOOOLE WORLD EATS PEOPLE NOW #ISNT IT WEIRD THAT YOU KIND OF WISH YOU WOULD BE EATEN. EXCEPT NOT RLY BC U WOULD DIE. MAYBE HE COULD HAVE A NIBBLE #i might come back to ramble in the tags more later. STAY TUNED!!!#OKAY IM BACK TO RAMBLE. FIZZFAGS SEAL O APPROVAL IN THE TAGS U MEAN THE WWWOORRLLD TO MEEEE #THIS IS ALL YOUR FFAAAUULTT UR THE ONLY REASON THESE LOSERS ARE ROTATING IN MY BRAIN SO SO FAST #I DO INTEND TO WRITE MORE!! AND I DO INTEND TO LET IT GET WEIRDER #Iwanna make a lil chapter two w them hanging out at the funny intersection while soda maybe tries to patch emizel up.#wouldnt it be fucked up if u saw ur best friend get bled out n then sired right infront of u #and wouldnt it be fucked up if ina vampiric daze he almost sinks his crazy shark teeth into your throat #and wouldnt it be fucked up if you kinda wish he did. like not in a weird way or anything its not weird its not weird at all #RAAHH IM SO HAPPY THAT PPL LIKE MY WRITING STYLE N MY CHARACTERIZATIONS ASWELL IT MEANS SO MUCH TO MMEEEE #NICE WORDS GIVE ME SO MMUCH POOWWEERRRRR RAAGHGHHH!!!thank you guys for being so niceys to me #ive also been thinkin abt writing Post Suckening fics. EXCITED FOR SEASON TWO. in the meantime what if theo had to put up w shenanigens #one shenanigen for example being emizel going feral and attacking a comrade.#then theo needs to stake him n pull him aside n set him straight or something. set him gay. whatever.#ive also had an idea in my head. BC GABRIEL IS TOTALLY INSIDE OF EMIZELS BRAIN NOW #could u imagine doing acid or shrooms w ur homies n then suddenly ur nemesis is showing up in ur fractal hallucinations #anyway i think thats all da ramble i got in me. thanku for enjoying my writing thank yooouuu

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