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loveinhawkins · 2 months

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”How do you do it?” Eddie asks.

The question slips out far too late at night, anxiety thrumming in his chest—he’s not escaped the feeling ever since the boathouse, when he simply couldn’t sleep, felt like a fox just waiting for hound dogs to get his scent, ready to run—

Steve doesn’t need him to explain further, as if he can somehow hear a whole lot of what Eddie’s not saying: like when he picked up the phone an hour ago and hadn’t even let Eddie tie himself in knots, had just said, so easily, “I’ll come get you,” like it wasn’t a huge inconvenience, like he’d been the one to call Eddie instead.

He’s considering Eddie from where he lies in bed, leaning on his elbow, and he’s still got the covers off pointedly—and that’s a big thing, Eddie thinks, a big thing he doesn’t know what to do with, because they’ve not talked, not really, not got much beyond the dizzying relief of still being alive.

But even fraught with profound lack of sleep, Eddie doesn’t think he’s misreading the look in Steve’s eyes.

I know, those eyes say, illuminated by the warm light of the bedside lamp. It’s okay, there’s no rush. I’m right here.

Eddie’s never seen that kind of look before. Not towards him.

“Sometimes Robin sleeps over,” Steve says thoughtfully. “And sometimes the kids are around, and they’re so annoying and I get, like, three hours, tops.” He says it with all the fondness in the world. “And sometimes I’m alone, and it’s fine.”

“What about the other times?” Eddie can’t help but whisper.

If it were a reasonable hour maybe he wouldn’t dare to ask at all, but exhaustion’s worn down the filter in his head—at this point it’s practically see-through.

Steve shrugs. “Yeah, they’re shit,” he says with such honesty that Eddie nearly asks it again, how do you do it?

“But then it’s, like, a new day,” Steve says slowly, like he’s carefully weighing up what to say, “and I can… drive.” The pause tells Eddie he means go to someone. “Or, like… call, if it’s really bad.”

Hey, I’m glad you called, man, Steve had said when Eddie got into his car earlier, like they were just going to the movies or something normal—like Eddie wasn’t shaking, forehead pressed against the passenger window.

Eddie feels his throat close up a little. Tries to sniff as quietly as possible.

“Eddie,” Steve says patiently. He moves back in the bed. Gives Eddie space. “C’mere.”

Steve keeps the lamp on which helps; this isn’t the boathouse, Eddie thinks, and the slightest bit of tension leaves his body. Even that feels like a miracle.

He’s just resigning himself to lying there, staring up at the ceiling so at least Steve can get some rest, when Steve turns and catches his eye, still wide awake.

“Tell me about The Lord of the Rings,” Steve says.

The tightness in Eddie’s chest loosens; he laughs in surprise. “What?”

“You heard me.”

Eddie turns so he’s facing Steve properly, attempts a casual shrug, knowing already that it’ll be too rigid. “I don’t know, man. We, uh. We kinda lived through Mordor already.”

His hand twists in the bedsheets, knuckles turning white.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had…

Steve’s hand reaches across, eases Eddie’s grip on the sheets, like he’s saying, neither did I. Just give it a shot.

“The shire, then,” Steve says.

Eddie smiles. “Steve Harrington,” he says, suddenly finding enough lightness to tease; he’s missed it. “Are you asking me for a bedtime story?”

“Nope,” Steve says. “We’re just gonna lie here and talk.”

And they do.

Steve asks questions which works out for the best—Eddie can’t quite remember the last time he read the books. To tell the truth, anything that happened before March often has a kind of fog over it.

He’s sure he’s dropped at least a couple of plot points somewhere along the way, but Steve never once complains that he’s not making sense, just gently prompts Eddie until… until…

“Mm, I know what you’re doing,” Eddie mumbles through a yawn that catches him unawares.

“Oh, do you now?” Steve says, sounding smug. God, Eddie loves him. “Is it working?”

“Maybe.” Eddie says. His eyelids are heavy. “Um.” He yawns again. “Where… where was I?”

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Steve says. It sounds like he’s smiling—Eddie would check, but it’s suddenly impossible to keep his eyes open.

It’s okay, he thinks hazily, melting into sleep without even thinking about it. He can ask Steve in the morning.

There’s no rush.

#on struggling with the aftermath #the trust in falling asleep in front of someone ❤️#this may have a second part #a lil anxiety soothing stuff ❤️#pre steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

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collapsingneutron · 14 days

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Am I the only one who is deeply reminded of Tim Drake every time they see a John Mulaney comedy special?

If John Mulaney was 15 and looked 13, he'd be the prime actor to cast as Tim Drake. Because he has this cynical but boyish charm like he's a 50s professor trapped in a modern boy's body and very self-aware about it. He's seen some shit and done some shit, but he manages to look very put-together.

Here are some actual quotes from John's comedy specials that Tim Drake would totally say if he was writing his autobiography:

On Bruce Wayne:

Tim: Kids, you think your dad’s weird now? Wait for his dad to die. Then he goes on a whole quest.

He’ll wanna take more family pictures, but be angrier during them. “Can we get one photo where we all look nice?”

We’re like, “I don’t think this motherfucker’s doing that well.”

Tim: My dad never hit us. My dad is a lawyer and he was a debate team champion. So he would pick us apart psychologically.

Tim: He was a man most acquainted with misery. He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.

Tim: He didn’t want us to not get kidnapped. He wanted us to almost get kidnapped and then fight the guy off using weird, psych-out, back-room Chicago violence.

On being Robins:

Tim: This was always a very dramatic process – ’cause we were thirteen, we looked nine.

Tim: God, I guess they’re finally going to kill us all. All right. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.

Tim: I thought I was going to be murdered my entire childhood. In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?”

I was like, “Top three colleges? I thought I would be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

On being 'the smartest Robin':

Tim: I don’t know what my body is for other than just taking my head from room to room.

Tim, to Bart: Here’s my plan, you and me get very dressed up, including hats, and then we wave handkerchiefs at it until it disappears over the horizon.

On being Red Robin:

Tim: I was hoping, uh, by now that I would look older but that didn’t happen.

I don’t look older, I just look worse, I think. Honestly, when I’m walking down the street, no one’s ever like, “Hey, look at that man!” I think they’re just like “Whoa! That tall child looks terrible! Get some rest, tall child! You can’t keep burning the candle at both ends!”

On Gotham:

Tim: What a historic and beautiful and deeply haunted building this is. I keep walking through cold spots being like, “I wonder who that used to be.”

Tim: I was coming into my apartment building one night and I saw in front of my building a wheel chair, knocked in its side with no one in it. That’s a bad thing to see. Something happened there… you hope it was a miracle… but probably not… probably something worse.

On staying calm while Gotham is on fire:

Tim: I try to stay a little optimistic, even though I will admit, things are getting pretty sticky.

Tim: I’ll just keep all my emotions right here [points to heart] and then one day, I’ll die.

Tim: And by the way, part of me was like: “Whatever"… you know? You ever have those days where you’re like: “This might as well happen."

On Gotham Rogues:

Tim: He did not look like his job description. He looked like he should be the conductor on a locomotive powered by confetti. But, instead, he made his living in murder.

On the fracturing of the Batfamily amidst Bruce's supposed death and Tim's search for him:

Tim: It was an intervention. For me. Interventions for me, are my least favorite kind of intervention.

Tim [searching for Bruce while Dick is Batman and Damian is his Robin]:

I, meanwhile, was loose in New York City, not doing well.

On his time with the League of Assassins and Ra's Al-Ghul's interest

Tim: Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that.

Tim: You’re all uncomfortable now, but I’m way over it.

On college:

Tim: I went to college. For the whole time. Holy shit, right? I just got a letter from my college, which was fun ’cause mail, you know?

And they said… How did they phrase it? They said, “Give us some money!

“As a gift! We want a gift! But only if it’s money.” I found this peculiar.

I went to college, I was 18 years old, I looked like I was 11. I lived like a goddamn Ninja Turtle. I didn’t drink water the entire time.

Tim, at his first frat party: People were drinking like it was the civil war and a doctor was coming to saw our legs off.

Miscellaneous:

Tim, in an argument with Steph: That wasn’t what I was telling you, but alright, lets talk about this entirely new topic.

Tim, when asked if he's been up since yesterday: And I was like: “No” you know, like a liar.

Tim: I went into the room to get the massage and the woman there told me to undress to my comfort level. So I put on a sweater and a pair of corduroy pants, and I felt safe.

Tim: Those were the choices — salad or fries, the two most different foods in the universe. That’s like saying, “What kinda day do you wanna have? Do you wanna be active and go to the bathroom and stuff, or do you wanna lay on the floor moaning?”

Tim, talking to Kon at 5AM: It was really easy to get away with murder before they knew about DNA. It was ridiculously easy. Like, what was even going on back then? What was a murder investigation like in 1935??

One cop would just walk in and be like, [speaks sharply with an old-timey accent] “Detective! We found a pool of the killer’s blood in that hallway!”

And he would just be like [low voice] “Hmmm… gross! Mop it up. Now then, back to my hunch… [holds chin with hand and looks around the floor] Hmmmmmm…. Look for clues. [stands up straight] I’ll tell you what we’ll do! We’ll draw chalk around the body. That way, [narrows eyes and looks side to side and speaks with a suspicious tone] we’ll know where it was…”

Tim, showing up to brunch at Denny's: Hope you don’t mind that I dressed up. It was my first communion today so I decided to come right from it.

Tim: I was sitting up in bed a few weeks ago like… [groans] You know, life.

Tim: How did they find out about the inside zipper pocket? That pocket has eluded everyone in my life.

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beauspot · 11 months

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Thoughts on my second watch of Good Omens 2

i heard the fly buzzing in my first watch but didn’t know why and now i know

Maggie my sweet darling angel baby i love you

Aziraphale turning their car yellow

crowleys “no more dying” in extreme scottish.

Disposable Demon i’ll save you from these awful people i promise 😭

Aziraphale’s little smile when he says “smitten” to Crowley

i wonder if crowley was especially hurt because aziraphale seemed to be able to forgive gabriel who tried to kill him but can’t seem to forgive him being a demon.(still seeing all of this as a metaphor for internalized homophobia, like aziraphale knows he’s not the perfect angel he wants to be and he’s projecting his feelings about that onto crowley)

I can’t believe we got an actual ball. like pride and prejudice, bridgerton ball.

the beautiful score that started playing when aziraphale brought the chandelier down

i didn’t even realize that when they walked in the outfits changed. mrs sandwich made me realize(also i love her)

Nina being the only one to question the weird magical shit Aziraphale and Crowley do sends me so bad.

Season 2 took everything i liked about the first season (aziracrow, queer subtext, gay people, archangels, and beelzebub) and expanded on it

The adorable smile on Aziraphales face when he asked Crowley to dance 😭 he’s so pure(i should have known something was up, everything was going too well)

Crowley saying i won’t leave you on your own and Aziraphale saying i know 🤒

why isn’t aziraphale able to miracle nina and maggie??

crowley and mrs sandwich flirting. too cute

crowley saying he’s neither nice nor a lad.

crowleys little run in heaven when he’s following muriel

maggie giving the middle finger to the demons and laughing in their face when they tried to belittle her. queen

defensive aziraphale is so badass. just because he’s soft doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself or the people he loves

the random guitar solo in the final episode theme is so bizarre to me. why is it there?

ahh the raining hearts symbolizing crowleys vavoom plan!

crowley’s heavenly outfit not being white but “light grey”

the relief in aziraphale’s voice when crowley came back 😀

also him mumbling about the halo like he did with the sword 😭 but he sure loves to boast about the things he’s done right to crowley

aziraphale and crowley doing magic together has the power to set off alarm bells in heaven and they barely tried, they’re just in sync

saraqael was such a good addition to the cast.

crowley smiling at aziraphale going off on the angels and demons

“where beelzebub is, is my Heaven.” 🥹

the little knowing look after crowley mentions alpha centauri

the way they just interrupted michael’s speech by leaving 😭

i think that aziraphale was about to ask crowley to move in but that’s my opinion

the look the metatron gave crowley is so strange. i don’t like that

“JUST US. NOT YOU.”

“You’re not helping, angel.”

the softness in aziraphale’s voice when he talked about making crowley an angel again? how can you hate him! he thought he was doing the right thing!

also the miscommunication these two have is completely out of hand because crowley asked aziraphale if he said no and aziraphale hadn’t given an answer AT ALL to the metatron. the metatron told him to take his time. he went back to tell crowley the news first.

crowleys confession makes my stomach hurt. the way his voice broke when he said “we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t.”. the way he had to force himself past his anxiety to tell aziraphale he wanted to spend eternity with him? fuck.

the way aziraphale tells crowley to come with him. like and through all of this they are losing each other, oh my god.

“i need you!” god aziraphale punch me in the face next time why don’t you?

i feel like in all this anger towards aziraphale a lot of people are ignoring that he put himself out there too. he was telling crowley he needed him just like crowley was

“no nightingales.” FUCK YOU GAIMAN

the way aziraphale touched his lips after. dear GOD. someone get michael sheen an emmy

seeing aziraphale struggle against his wanting to kiss crowley back and his fear and wanting him to come back to heaven further supports my internalized homophobia analogy

also even knowing the kiss was going to happen because of the spoiler it still didn’t quell my shock. nor did it ruin the scene, i think it actually surprised me more because it did not happen how i thought it would.

side note i saw some people saying they thought the kiss was going to be a cop out in some way. like a body swap or as a joke and i don’t really know why?

it just occurred to me that both aziraphale and crowley thought the other one was just doing that thing they do where they say they won’t help, or they’re on their own but they eventually come back not knowing that the other was completely set on these plans they had. this wasn’t like armageddon or saving gabriel.

the second coming…of jesus…

crowley cutting off “a nightingale sang in berkeley square”...i’m gonna jump

this being the ending for the next 3-4 years. oh.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #muriel good omens #nina good omens #maggie good omens #good omens beelzebub #aziraphale #a z fell #crowley #anthony j crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable bureaucracy #archangel fucking gabriel #archangel gabriel

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estrellami-1 · 11 months

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If I Should Stay

Y’all are the best. Seriously. I love y’all. One quick note: if y’all reblog, please include the tag “#if I should stay” (mind the capital i) so people can find the rest of the parts! Thanks so much!!! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Eddie does end up following Robin because he does not, in fact, have a death wish.

Even if, apparently, he dies in the future. Go figure.

She instructs him to grab his guitar. “Why in the fuck,” he starts, then reconsiders when Robin whips around to stare at him. “Anyone ever tell you you’re terrifying?”

Robin shrugs a shoulder. “Not as much as they should.”

She stashes her bike in the back of his van and directs him to the Harrington residence, where Steve’s waiting, arms crossed, wondering smile on his face. “Miracle worker,” he calls, and Robin laughs as she grabs her bike from the back.

“Hate to break it to ya, Dingus, but you’re just not scary.”

“I’m plenty scary. I’ve got a nail bat.”

“Right, because that would beat Nance’s sawed-off in a fight.”

“Hey, it could! You never know! They’ve got different ranges!”

Robin rolls her eyes at Eddie, like she’s asking if he can believe it, which. No. No he can’t.

“Sorry,” he says, regretting everything when they both look at him. “What the actual fuck is happening?”

“Come inside,” Steve says, suddenly all business. “We’ve got a lot to discuss.” His eyes find Robin’s. “One of ‘em took Barb last night.”

“Fuck,” Robin whispers.

“Yup. Will’s been missing for two days. Maybe, if we get down there soon enough…”

“Let’s hope so. Which one of the rugrats found El?”

“I think they all did? But Mike’s the one who took her in.” He shakes his head, mouth a grim line. “I saw Dustin today. They’re kids, Robs.”

“So are we,” she reminds him, heaving a tired-sounding sigh. “A buncha kids fighting real-life monsters.”

“Monsters?” Eddie parrots.

Somehow they end up inside while Steve goes to pick up the Party. Who the party is, Eddie doesn’t know. Just like he doesn’t know why he’s in Steve’s Harrington’s house with someone who isn’t Steve Harrington.

“Who’s the Party?” He asks Robin. “And why am I here again? If I die, doesn’t that mean I shouldn’t be here? Should be somewhere far, far away instead?”

“The Party’s a group of kids Steve babysits. They’re the first ones to go through this whole mess. And admittedly, you’re here partially because you can help, and partially for selfish reasons.” She offers him a lopsided grin. “Believe it or not, watching you die was kinda traumatic.”

“Right,” he says slowly. “And you and Steve? How do you know each other? He and Nancy Wheeler are the talk of the town, and if he’s stepping out-”

“He wouldn’t,” she says harshly. “Ever.” She takes a breath. “Two years from now, or a year ago, he and I work together in a mall. Long story short, we get captured and tortured by Russians. High on truth serum, I tell him I’m a lesbian in the bathroom, we help take down the big bad, and boom. Instant platonic soulmates.”

Eddie gapes at her. “What the fuck.”

“Just about,” she nods. “Oh, and the kids love D&D, so you’ll have plenty to talk about. They’re little shits but they’re also kinda great once you get to know them.”

Eddie stares at her. The front door opens, and Steve walks in, followed by a gaggle of preteens and Nancy Wheeler.

“Robs,” Steve says, not slowing his stride as he begins taking the stairs two at a time. “Bathroom. Now.”

Robin grimaces. “Breakdown time,” she murmurs to Eddie, then follows Steve, leaving everyone else staring at each other.

“So,” Eddie says. “I heard you like D&D?”

A dark-haired kid who looks suspiciously like Nancy narrows his eyes. “You play?”

“Play!” Eddie repeats. “I don’t just play, my young friend, I am the greatest Dungeon Master this side of the Mississippi.”

A curly-haired kid begins to grin. “I think we should put that to the test.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @local-writers-corner @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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Fic Taglist: @blondlanfear @do-you-want-something-more @little-gae-shit

#if I should stay #eventual steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #dustin henderson #he’s the curly-haired boy at the end #in case it wasn’t obvious lmao #time travel au #fix it fic #starambles

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luxaofhesperides · 3 months

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Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time.

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash.

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes.

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful.

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on.

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay.

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue.

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases.

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud.

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him. He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it.

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast.

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows.

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest.

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled.

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice.

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk.

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human.

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave.

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep.

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety.

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny.

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist.

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow.

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest.

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep.

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy.

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him.

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

#ghostlights #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #prompt fill #my writing #i thought up a whole backstory to the duke/dash kiss (accidental. embarrassing for both parties) but it didnt fit w the rest of the fic so #its not included. i can include it in a rb if u want tho!!#my sleepy boys..... they go thru so much but at the end of the day they always feel at home with each other #childhood friends duke/danny is so important to me #also couldnt think of a coded phrase sorry. now we just have dash walking up to duke like HEY. HELP DANNY. and duke went with it #thanks for the prompt!!

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touyasdoll · 1 year

Text

Dadmas Day 3: Christmas Morning with Touya

Dadmas Masterlist

pairing: Touya Todoroki/Dabi x f!reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: you have multiple children together, mentions of pregnancy & children, reader is wearing a nightgown, his dick is pierced, biting, your kids are cockblocks but they’re cute

notes: this was originally going to be a Father’s Day post and this is the whole reason I wanted to do Dadmas! I just really, really, really love the idea of Touya as a dad <3 he deserves more mornings like this.

Merry Christmas! <3

It’s Christmas morning. The chill from outdoors has crept inside overnight, but it’s the feeling of mismatched lips brushing against your neck that stirs you from your slumber.

It’s not a bad way to wake up; it’s one of your favorites, actually. One smooth. One scarred. Both coming together over your pulse point to send a shiver up your spine and pull a moan from your own mouth.

“Touya..” you murmur drowsily, giggling as his lips climb up your neck to trail along your jaw.

“Doll..” he echoes your nickname in the same timbre, playfully mocking you, as he often did.

You can feel the his smile against your skin when he briefly nuzzles his face against yours. It’s then that you realize that his hands are also wandering, slipping beneath the sheets to skim along your sides.

“I can almost guarantee you that we do not have time for this today,” you say as you lock eyes with him.

He leans over you, propped up on one arm to stare back into your eyes with a devil-may-care grin.

“Maybe a Christmas miracle’ll happen.” He shrugs, leaning in again to attach his lips to your neck.

“Oh, you believe in miracles all of sudden?” You ask sarcastically as your eyes fall closed again.

A soft sigh leaves your lungs as you gently stretch and relax into the sheets, tilting your head to allow him better access to your neck.

Maybe a Christmas miracle would happen. You cross your fingers.

“Believe in ‘em?” He scoffs, warm breath blowing over your neck. “I’ve seen one firsthand. How the hell else could I have landed you?”

He smirks and sinks his teeth into your skin, feeling rather proud of himself for that one, because he can practically hear you rolling your eyes when you echo his scoff.

“Must be all the smooth one liners,” you tease, letting your hands roam to seek out the only present that you’re really hoping for today.

You find it without much trouble. His morning wood is just inches from your thigh. You slowly drag your fingers along his shift before wrapping your hand around the barely contained erection, concealed only by his boxers.

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, sighing as he readjusts to swivel his hips towards you.

He starts bucking them gently, shifting upwards into your grasp while he starts sucking on your neck again to stifle the desperate moans threatening to spill from his lips.

“Shit,” you moan, eyes briefly rolling back when his tongue finds that special spot on your neck. “Baby, do you really think we might have enough time?”

“We can make it quick,” he mutters impatiently, tossing back the sheets in a hurry as he moves to position himself between your legs.

The both of you are veterans when it comes to quickies. You thought you were good at ‘em before you had kids, but now? It’s an art form that you have perfected.

You reach down to haphazardly bunch up the hem of your nightgown and pull your panties to the side while he tugs his boxers down far enough to let his pierced erection spring free.

“Remind me to eat you out later,” he murmurs, eyes flitting to yours as he dons a grin that makes your pussy throb even before he guides the head of his cock between your folds.

“Maybe I’ll just sit on your face,” you muse, eyes fluttering closed and a soft moan escaping you when he shifts his hips.

“Merry Christmas to me. I hope you do,” he replies huskily, smirking as he sheathes his length inside of you in one smooth thrust.

Both of you take a brief moment to savor the feeling, intentionally quiet noises of pleasure flooding the room. You lift your hips, grinding them forward while his begin to roll. He’s just about to pick up the tempo when the sound of little feet start pattering down the hall.

“Babe,” you whisper, pressing your hands to his chest as your head whips towards the door.

“I hear ‘em. Just know this means I’m pounding the fuck out of you later,” he murmurs as he leans in to steal a kiss, a handsome smirk lingering on his lips when he pulls away to fall back into bed beside you.

He tucks his suddenly softening cock back into his boxers and you adjust your clothes while he grabs the covers and tugs them over the both of you.

“Ssh!” You hear your five year old’s voice in the hall.

She’s giggling despite her warning to keep quiet and so is your 3 year old son as the sound of their footsteps grow closer to your door.

You and Touya employ your acting skills, pretending to be fast asleep just before the door slowly creaks open.

“I told you they’re still sleeping,” your daughter whispers as she crosses into the room, creeping closer to the bed with her brother right on her heels.

“Let’s get daddy!” Your son suggests in the loudest whisper you’ve ever heard.

You peek one eye open to look at your husband, who can’t seem to help the warm smile that graces his features. You close your eyes again and wait, though it doesn’t take long for your children to make their move.

“Daddy!” Your daughter cheers as she launches herself onto his side of the bed.

“It’s Christmas!” Your son exclaims as he joins her, pouncing directly onto his father’s chest.

“Oof!” He grunts, a huge grin spreading across his face as he let’s our a jolly chuckle that could rival even old St. Nick’s. “It’s Christmas? So what? What’s that mean?”

He sits up to wind an arm around both of them, his tickling fingers getting to work immediately, sending both children into laughing fits as they try to squirm out of his grasp.

“Santa!” Your son squeals, scrambling towards your side of the bed as you sit up, smiling fondly at the scene in front of you.

“Yeah! Santa came, daddy!” Your daughter manages to inform him through her giggles while trying in vain to protect her ticklish sides.

“Good morning!” Your son greets you, tilting his head back when he plops down into your lap as your arms wind around him.

“Good morning, mommy!” Your daughter echoes his greeting as Touya finally takes mercy on her.

“Good morning,” you reply, beaming as you press a kiss to the top of your son’s forehead and then lean over to do the same to your daughter. “So you guys already saw the tree? Santa came and left us all presents?”

“Yeah! I saw my name! And brother’s and sister’s and yours and daddy’s too!” Your daughter excitedly informs you, practically bouncing on the bed, which seems to give her an idea, because she rises to her feet. “Let’s open presents!”

Her brother joins her, climbing out of your lap to stand up as the two of them start jumping up and down in the space between you while chanting for presents. Touya chuckles and glances over at you to exchange smiles before he stands and loops his arms around the kids again.

“Alright, alright, we’ll do presents,” he says as he tucks one beneath each arm and starts carrying them off, making them squirm and giggle. “We gotta get your sister first though. Why don’t you two go find one with your names on ‘em and mommy and I will be right there?”

He sets them down near the bedroom door and they cheer before they take off. You rise from the bed, watching him as he watches your children go. There’s a smile on his face, but he looks a little lost in thought. He doesn’t seem to notice you approach until your hand reaches out to take his and he snaps out of it.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” You ask quietly as you slip your arms around his middle.

He folds his arms around you in return, peeking at you for only a moment before he looks down, a little embarrassed by the sheer amount of emotions that he’s feeling.

“How lucky I am. Thank you, doll. For everything,” he whispers, placing a kiss to your scalp as he gives you a long squeeze.

“Merry Christmas, baby,” you say softly, closing your eyes as you hug him back tightly.

He closes his eyes, holding you a little tighter while he sends off a prayer to any and every deity that he’s ever heard of. He never wanted to lose this. He’d lost a family once and he’d survived, but he wouldn’t make it through losing this one.

He feels a slight pressure just beneath his eyes and he knows what’s coming. Usually he tries to fight it, but he knows it’s hopeless this morning.

“Merry Christmas, doll,” he replies as a crimson tear slips over his cheek from under his stapled seam.

The baby starts fussing down the hall and you pull away, only to stop when you realize that she isn’t the only one who’s crying. You reach up to cup his face, delicately swiping the tear away with the pad of your thumb before your gaze finds his.

“Are you okay, baby?”

He nods, a tender smile on his lips as he cradles your head in both hands and plants a kiss to you forehead.

“I’ve never been happier,” he says sincerely. “I’ll go get her. You wrangle the other gremlins.”

With a gentle swat to your behind, he heads down the hall and you turn to look at him over your shoulder. A smile spreads across your face as you watch him swing open the door to the nursery and beam at your other daughter, who can be heard giggling inside, amused by the funny face he makes as he enters the room.

You shake your head, still grinning like a fool as you make your way towards the living room, where your eldest is doing her best with her newfound reading skills to sort out the gifts.

“Lemme help you, sweetheart,” you say as you pick up one of the wrapped presents from beneath the tree.

A few minutes later, Touya arrives with your 18 month old on his hip. She stares in wonder at the presents and start kicking her tiny legs while pressing on his arms.

“Down,” she requests in the most adorable, excited little voice.

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckles, finding a place on the floor to plop down, so that he can set her free and keep a close eye on her.

He keeps an eye on all of you, basking in the wonder of a Christmas morning that he never thought he’d live to see, let alone celebrate with his own family.

He watches the children dance around while impatiently waiting to tear into their piles of presents. He watches you take you youngest daughter into your lap and help her tear away the wrapping paper on one of her gifts, which she finds more interesting than the gift itself. He watches you crawl over and reach way under the tree to retrieve a small, rectangular gift.

“This one’s yours,” you say as you sit down beside him and offer him the package. “Feel like it’s important to note that this one’s from me and not Santa.”

He furrows his brow, smiling curiously as he glances over at you before he turns his attention to the gift in his hands. He tears the paper away and finds a box, which he lifts the top of of to reveal a familiar looking white stick inside.

Pregnant is what it says.

You watch his face and are blessed enough to see the moment of realization on his face. His eyes go wide and he suddenly grins so wide that you’re worried he might lose a staple.

“I’m gonna be a dad again?” He asks excitedly, sounding the teeniest bit choked up, though he’d never confess to that.

“Yes,” you confirm, nodding your head as you mirror his elated expression.

He chuckles in disbelief and throws his arms around you, pulling you in to hug you tight and press his lips to your scalp again.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, pulling away to cup your face in his hand and kiss you like he means it, because he does. He’s never meant anything more.

Before you can respond, he pulls away and looks down at your belly, placing his hand over it gently.

“And I love this one already,” he adds softly.

Tears of joy threaten to spill from your own eyes now as you place your hand over his.

“We love you too. We’re just as lucky to have you, baby. All of us,” you say quietly.

He leans in to press his smiling lips to yours again, his head already filling with what next year might look like. The sounds of the children squealing and screaming fade away as he presses his forehead to yours to look into your eyes.

“Merry Christmas, doll. Thank you.”

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dadvans · 5 days

Note

Pls tell us more about pregnant Buck and baby daddy Tommy 🙏🏼

Oh, GLADLY. I spent my entire commute home thinking about this after I got this ask.

Okay, here’s everything you must know about Buckley-Kinard Baby Begins:

Buck is shitscared fucking terrified to tell Tommy when he finds out he’s pregnant, because while he knows that there are men out there who can get pregnant, Buck didn’t think or know he was one of those men. And they’ve been dating for six months, and at the four month mark they had their first ever fight, because Buck decided to say “I Love You” for the first time in the same conversation where he was asking Tommy if they could stop using condoms. They haven’t even talked about kids. Tommy, Buck reflects hysterically, is gonna think Buck is babytrapping him.

He lets himself into Tommy’s place after the doctor’s appointment. Tommy is in bed, napping off a shift, and he’s big and warm like the best desert rock that Buck’s lizard brain wants to curl up on. He crawls into bed with Tommy in a way that feels so final, because when Tommy wakes up for good and Buck lays out the news that there is a baby—and more importantly, that the second Buck found out that there was a baby he knew he wanted to keep it—he’s probably gonna ask Buck for his spare key back, block his number, and ready himself for eighteen years of child support payments.

Tommy shifts, mostly still asleep, eyes impossibly closed under the sun seeping between his bedroom window slats. He’s known Buck’s been feeling like shit the past few weeks, and would have offered to take Buck to his appointment if it weren’t for aforementioned shift. “Howwuz doctor’s?”

“Fine,” Buck says. “Tell you more when you get up.”

Which is Tommy’s cue to pass the fuck back out, which he does.

And Buck watches him sleep, and the most horrible part is that he has this fledgling hope that he’ll tell Tommy about the baby and Tommy won’t think he’s a crazy babytrapping monster and won’t kick him out and will say, you know what, yeah, let’s do this.

Buck knows what it’s like to be crushed and this hope is crushing him. He can’t fall asleep under its weight. Maybe another hour passes before Tommy wakes up, but it feels like a lifetime buried under this tiny hope.

So, he’s a fucking mess when Tommy does wake up, when Tommy says, “So, did they figure out what’s going on?” and all Buck can say is, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I’m sorry.” He’s pregnant, he didn’t know, he didn’t think, he would’ve been smarter, he wouldn’t have asked, he’s so sorry, and he wants to have this kid, he doesn’t expect anything from Tommy, he’s sorry.

Miracle of miracles Tommy just holds him through it.

The thing is, Tommy knows he’s not a natural with kids like Buck is. It’s not that he particularly wants or doesn’t want them, but until recently he’d kind of resigned to it not being an option, never willing to tie himself to someone else like that when he was so deep in the closet, and now in his mid-forties with no real biological clock ticking it hasn't been a priority. No, he and Buck haven’t talked about kids, but he knows Buck doesn’t have a malicious or insidious bone in his body, and being with Buck has made him realize there’s this well of love inside him that goes far deeper than he’s ever known it to.

And maybe it won’t work out, Tommy is the first to admit. Maybe it is too soon for them to think this is something their relationship can survive so early in, but it’s not something he’s ready to say no to either. So maybe they carry the burden of hope together, for this life they’re making together, and they give it their best shot.

(The sex they have after this conversation is so off-the-wall bonkers crazy intense that if Buck weren’t already pregnant, well.)

Later, when Buck’s had time to process that Tommy’s not going to leave him over this, that they’re going to try and make this work, that Tommy wants to make this work as bad as he does, does Buck address the second problem that’s bothering him: Buck wants to keep working as long as he can. He can’t be side-lined again. He tells Tommy much more about the lawsuit than Tommy previously knew, the parts that Buck is embarrassed about still years later. How he can’t go back to that, or won’t, how even though they’ve finally ousted Gerrard and Bobby’s back at the helm of the 118, he’s afraid that Bobby won’t trust him and that no matter how much has changed, he’s still replaceable to the people he considers family (not healthy, Tommy doesn’t say, but he gets it).

So, Tommy’s like: let’s take a week. Let’s look into this. He’s known pregnant people in the field before, there are proper channels to consider and protections to be made before Buck has his second pregnancy-related breakdown. They support each other through the next step, and it feels auspicious and good for this whole thing working out.

Telling Bobby for real still doesn’t come as well as Buck would like it to. He babbles. He starts out by mentioning he’s done his research, and there are lawsuits (he’d like to avoid) and more recent case studies on all these accommodations that say barring complications he’d be suited to some duty through his second trimester, and—

“Wait, you’re pregnant?” Bobby asks.

Buck stammers out, “Uh yeah. It’s not—we didn’t know I was even a carrier, so it’s a surprise. That said, it’s still, you know, we know it’s early—it’s really, really early, but Tommy and I talked about it. And we want it, you know, even if he and I don’t work out at the end of the day. It’s not unwanted.”

(And there’s something to be said there about both Buck and Tommy, two men who grew up feeling unwanted suddenly bringing a new life into the world, and knowing above all else that no matter how things work out between them, they’re going to make this kid know how wanted it is.)

“Congratulations, Buck, that’s amazing,” Bobby says. Smiling in a way that Buck knows he means it, in a way that makes Buck think, is he proud of me? I think he’s proud of me. In a way that he knows that despite all his fears and their past history, Bobby trusts him on this one, will work with him, will provide the support he needs now that he knows how to ask for it.

Buck gets to go to Tommy's (home) after his shift, and when Tommy asks, Buck says, "Bobby's having me refitted for PPE in a few weeks, we're all good to go" (all three of us)

#bucktommy #headcanons #mpreg #dadvans replies #911 abc

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seaslugfanclub · 7 months

Note

Hello!! I love your Disney holo!villains, your writing style is just absolutely lovely!

Could I please request the reader fixing a meet-n-greet gone wrong with some of the less popular villains of your choice?? Can't imagine they take very well to being disregarded or unacknowledged...

No pressure and have a lovely day! 😁

It makes my day when one of my favorite Disney villain blogs asks for a request 😭 I hope I delivered!

Meet-N-Greet gone wrong

————————————————————————

It’s Meet-n-greet day at Disney! A perfect day for the resident narcissists to get their daily praise in!

(Y/N), who was assigned to supervise the event wasn’t concerned about the panel. Usually all the Villains acted on their best behavior, happy to receive any compliments from annoying millennials in $50 mouse ears.

This Meet-n-greet was a special event, where all villains including lesser known members where present. And even though they were to prideful to admit it, villains like Alameda, Medusa, Rourke, and Sykes where looking forwards to the event.

Before the panel, (Y/N) walked by their dressing rooms and noticed the extra care they took into getting ready.

Alameda pulling on a new pair of suede chaps, Medusa perming her hair as she did her nails, Rourke spritzed some of his favorite cologne, and Sykes made sure to choose some of his finest cufflinks. All minor details, but (Y/N) could tell how excited they where to receive some attention.

Unfortunately the meet-n-greet went like any other, with guests only being interested in the big bads. Cooing over their favorites, asking for autographs and photos. The whole works. All the while the other villains where cast to the sidelines, getting increasingly frustrated as the event went on.

(Y/N), taking notice of this, tried to bring a group of park goers over to the others, both as a way to keep the mainline villains from getting overwhelmed and to get some attention on the lesser known characters.

Unfortunately the guests where not interested..

“And this here is Alameda Slim! A master cow wrangler and genius yodeler from the 2004 film ‘Home on the Range’! He also tried to burn down a local Texas road house!” (Y/N) motioned up at the cowboy, who tilted his hat in pride.

“…what? Yodeling? That’s one of the worst sounds known to man, can we go back to the others, I wanna meet Jafar!” Some person in the group spoke up, with the others murmuring in agreement.

“Wuh- worst sounds!? I’LL SHOW YA WORST SOUNDS YOU LITTLE-”

The meet-n-greet dissolved into chaos as Alameda tried to lunge at the rude guest, who by some miracle didn’t get choked out as (Y/N) held him back with the combined effort of Rourke and Sykes.

Needless to say the panel ended early, with the excuse of the heat getting to the villains. Villains like Cruella and Gaston where pissed the praise ended so soon, while others like Hook and Hades were glad finally to be left alone.

Later that night, Alameda was brought out of his brooding when a quick knock came from his door, which revealed a smiling (Y/N).

(Y/N) dragged him downstairs into the employee break room, where he was met with his fellow villains, all sharing the same confused expression.

“Listen, I know that today was a shit show. And I’m sorry that it seems like no one acknowledges you. But I wanted to show you all something…”

(Y/N) proceeded to pull out their laptop from their work bag, opening it up as they motioned the villains to gather round.

“I wanted to show you all that there are people who love you guys, they’re entire blogs dedicated to you all from people across the world. I’m actually apart of some.”

Alameda and the others where shocked as (Y/N) shared with them all the fanart, ramblings, and imagines about them. Medusa jumped up and down in place pressing close to (Y/N) to get a better look at the screen. Rourke, who was never a fan of the internet grumbled to himself, but had an amused grin on his face.

Alameda felt the frustration of the day fade into obscurity as he guffawed at the things people where writing about him. At one point Sykes began to gag at some of the more.. suggestive content, which only led to more laughter from the group

The entire night was spent scrolling through the countless blogs, laughing and cringing until the laptop ran out of battery

————————————————————————

This was a little love letter to our community, you all are such talented creators and I’m so lucky to be apart of this small corner of the internet!

I feel like we would both traumatize and flatter Disney Villains if they saw what we write about them 🤣 Frollo would probably turn to dust

#disney villains #self insert #disney imagine #disney x reader #alameda slim #atlantis the lost empire #home on the range #oliver and company #the rescuers #disney hades

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rel312 · 11 months

Text

I HAD NO IDEA SEASON 2 CAME OUT ALREADY SO NOW IM GOING TO SCREAM ABOUT IT

Episode 1:

CROWLEY WANTED TO TAKE AZIRAPHALE BACK TO THE PLACE THEY FIRST MET

CROWLEY PROTECTED AZIRAPHALE FIRST IM SCREAMING

(My brother actually came into my room to tell me to shut up)

Of course Aziraphale would just forgive 8 months rent

Lmao Gabriel’s just walking down the street ass naked

Gabriel just hugged Aziraphale I can’t

“James. Long for Jim, short for Gabriel”

Crowley knows Aziraphale so well, but poor guy he only calls him for 3 reasons

Poor Crowley is trying so hard not to freak out about the “naked man friend”

The conversation between Crowley and Jim I can’t

Maggie and Nina are trapped together!!

Michael and Uriel are fighting let’s gooo

Crowley just casually let the girls out lmao

THERES AN I WAS WRONG DANCE OH MY GOD

THEYRE PERFORMING A MIRACLE TOGETHER

Aaaaaand of course it goes immediately wrong

Episode 2:

Gabriel’s wig is atrocious

IS AZIRAPHALE GOING TO BE THE SUPREME ARCHANGEL NOW

A jukebox that turns every song into Everyday like the Bentley with Queen, hmmm….

Crowley looks like a doting partner bringing his husband a drink

“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes, vavoom, sorted” sir… are you telling me that’s what did it for you???

Crowley’s so confounded that Jane Austen wrote books

THE VOICE OF GOD???

HE TURNED ALL THE GOATS INTO BIRDS

Crowley scaring the kids cause they were brats but not actually killing them aww

The little girl asking to be a blue lizard with her siblings she’s so cute

CROWLEY TAUGHT AZIRAPHALE TO EAT

I cannot believe Aziraphale was the first to talk about sides I love them

Crowley and Aziraphale working together for the first time to save the kids

Aziraphale looks so shaken to have lied poor baby

Crowley babe he’s begging for you to drive him

“Our car” you can’t take it that far lol

Poor Aziraphale really thought he was gonna fall he was about to cry

Crowley was so soft in that last scene

Episode 3:

Jim’s stuff is all labeled

Aziraphale looks like a proud father to Muriel

Crowley’s moving the plants to use the car

They both look like parents I love them

Crowley brought Aziraphale to a cemetery because he thought it would amuse him, that is date behavior

Crowley is about to kill Aziraphale for changing his car

NESSIE?!?!

“Operation: Lovebirds” Crowley is such a dork

Aziraphale just is not getting anything lol

Crowley… shrunk himself??? And then grew himself????

Crowley tempted her to be good I love him

I love the very closed sign

Demons can’t enter somewhere uninvited???

He’s so angry Aziraphale might be hurt

Episode 4:

BEEBOP

“His type”????

“I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item” HOLY SHIT

HE CALLED CROWLEY HIS GOOD FRIEND AFTER THE CHURCH!!!

“This office has gone 13 5 0 days without anyone saying ‘THE ROAD TO HELL IS PAVED’”

Glad to see Aziraphale in his magic era

Crowley’s impression is hilarious

“Someone you can really trust” and his first thought is Crowley 🥹

Aziraphale has a gun and Crowley has never shot one

Crowley was shaking he was so scared and Aziraphale was so proud of his trick

Furfur not knowing how to pronounce Aziraphale lmao

Sleight of hand!

Look at them finding a middle ground in shades of grey!

Lmao Crowley would murder him if he knew Aziraphale didn’t put the brakes

Episode 5:

They’re talking about Doctor Who

Aziraphale’s giving books and Crowley’s playing with crystal balls, I love them

Aziraphale being bad at French is so funny to me

Nina grilling Crowley on his relationship with Aziraphale is everything

Crowley was confronted with his feelings and immediately went out to get a drink with Aziraphale

Crowley’s so mad go off king

The matchbox!

Aww look at Crowley denying he’s nice

The romantic music while Crowley looks at Aziraphale with the chandelier

Oh. My. GOD. Jim’s suit!

Lol that’s not what I was expecting when they said masks will be provided

AZIRAPHALE WANTS TO DANCE WITH CROWLEY

THEYRE DANCING!!!!!!

“Surrender the angle”

Gabriel’s coat!!

“T. O. S. T. E.”

“You’re a good lad” “not actually, either”

“Rescuing me makes him so happy” you can’t just say things like that and expect me to be normal about it

Episode 6:

Crowley’s just bouncing around in heaven

“I’m done with being scared” *flips them the bird*

Oh sweetie, you meant well but no

“Crowley’s emotional support angel” yes, yes that’s exactly what he is

Crowley’s little supportive punch to Muriel was so cute

AZIRAPHALES HALO?!?!

THE FLY

Gabriel x Beelzebub confirmed??

The fact that Gabriel and Beelzebub were able to sort this out in a few years while it’s taken Crowley and Aziraphale 6000 is insane

And the fact that Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm when he realized that

Crowley’s so impressed with Aziraphale bringing everyone to order

Aziraphale’s face at Crowley talking about Alpha Centauri

Aziraphale looking at Crowley with so much love in his eyes is giving me life

THE METATRON?!?!

Aziraphale looking to Crowley for permission I can’t

Crowley knowing Aziraphale will come back and saying they need “a little us time” at the Ritz

Crowley getting antsy that Aziraphale’s not back yet

Nina taking inspiration from Crowley and calling Maggie angel my beloved

Crowley looks devastated that Aziraphale interrupted him

Aziraphale looks so incredibly happy at getting Crowley to be an angel again but there’s no way Crowley wants that

Crowley’s getting so emotional

“Just be an us” stooooopppppp

“I need you” I can’t take this!

Nightingales

THEY KISSED!!!!!!!!!

Aziraphale touched his lips after I’m dying

Aziraphale stop being so stupid and get him back

The- the second coming??

YOU CANNOT END IT HERE

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP

Please tell me there will be a season 3 I can’t handle this

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gabessquishytum · 6 months

Note

No sex-ed Dream our beloved 😁 how about the reverse of that last ask? Dream was told as a child that only married couples have babies, and growing up somehow completely missed any evidence to refute that. Even when he later (barely) learns about sex, by the time he’s in college he pretty firmly thinks it’s sex + marriage = babies. He still wanted his first time to be special though, so he’s still a virgin until he starts sleeping with Hob.

When Dream starts having pregnancy symptoms, he simply assumes he caught a bad flu or something. At some point Hob hesitantly brings up the possibility of pregnancy, but Dream just rolls his eyes and says something like that’s impossible, or that he’s pretty sure he would’ve noticed if he was pregnant.

What he’s thinking is “It’s impossible obviously bc we’re not married, and I’m pretty sure I would’ve noticed if we had gotten married, very funny Hob (actually that sounds lovely, but we should probably wait until after graduation)”.

What Hob hears is either “that’s impossible” as in Dream can’t have kids (a bit of a disappointment, but there’s always adoption), or “I would’ve noticed” as in Dream has already checked and confirmed he’s not, maybe he already took a test and it came back negative or he’s on his period, so Hob lets it go, and the nausea quickly goes away anyway and they move on in blissful ignorance (btw if Dream is like me he’s really really bad at tracking his cycles, so he doesn’t even notice that he’s missed a couple months (I’m so bad, if I ever get pregnant missing my period is not how I’m gonna find out 😅)).

If possible for maximum comedy I’d try to keep Dream in denial up until the birth, but Hob will probably bring the subject back up a little more forcefully when Dream starts showing. At first it could be dismissed as a little weight gain (and that’s what Dream definitely thinks it is), but at a certain point it’s clear that that’s a baby bump, it’s literally a baby bump, Dream do you have something you’d like to share???

They finally sit down and clear everything up, then they can both have a little freak out as a treat, that Dream is pregnant, they’re gonna be dads, holy shit they are so behind they need to schedule all the appointments yesterday.

-🪽anon

My love for this au never ends!!!! And I do have a huge soft spot for a Dream who is very obviously pregnant and very much in denial about it. Maybe he insists that Hob has just been feeding him too well! And Hob is staring at the very round very obvious bump (which occasionally ripples as the baby begins to move around and throw punches). Admittedly he likes to keep Dream eating plenty of nutritious meals, but his lasagnes definitely didn't do THAT.

I think deep, deep down Dream knows that he's having a baby, but he's very scared and kind of hoping the whole situation will go away if he ignores it. He still doesn't know HOW he got into this mess. Did him and Hob get married with out realising it? Dream is so confused and anxious and he wants a nine month nap and a hug. Instead he gets a baby (and a boyfriend who loves him very much and is who is NOT going to put his dick inside Dream without a condom for a very, very long time).

Nevertheless, the expectant parents are very very excited!!!! Hob is telling everyone he knows that his boyfriend is pregnant!!!! He's got a lil miracle in his belly!!!! Hob’s gonna be a daddy for real!!!! And Dream pulls off the most beautiful, iconic, celebratory trans pregnancy to the point where the entire campus is invested, and bigots everywhere are drowning in ire and envy.

It's especially nice that their baby, aged around 18 months, gets to be the guest of honour when they do get married. Dream and Hob get a night off from parenting their little one and have a very raunchy consummation of their marriage in their hotel room........ where Dream suggests that now they're actually married, maybe it's time to try for another baby?

Hob takes great pleasure in chucking the condoms out into the corridor. Time to make a baby with his HUSBAND <3

#🪽anon #the sandman #dreamling #nsft #cw pregnancy #trans dream

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 1 year

Text

Deuce, Malleus: My Dream, to Defend

I now read everything Malleus says as extremely ominous and foreboding (knowing the context of book 7) 👨 THEY’RE ALL RED FLAGS 🚩, YOUR HONOR *proceeds to perpetuate the red flags by giving Malleus reasonably optimistic but also ominous-in-the-right-context dialogue*

Also??? Why are Ace and Deuce's faces on their birthday cards so similar 😂 They kinda match, even their Groovies (they kind of look like they're racing each other!)… cute

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What makes you glad you can use magic?”

Malleus paused, pondering the question. “What an odd inquiry.”

“For Malleus-senpai, yeah. You use magic for almost everything! It must be hard to just pick one thing about it that makes you go, 'I'm thankful for this!'. But for me…” Deuce tilted his head back, looking up to the structure that loomed over them.

It was the main building of the campus, housing numerous classrooms and offices. Regal and imposing, with several turreted towers and balconies, it was less an academic institution and more like a castle. A castle where dreams and wishes came true. Among them, his--if he worked hard enough.

"I'm happy that I got into Night Raven College," he said earnestly. "I never thought I had the magic potential to make it to a place like this, but here I am... standing at the steps."

Malleus's mouth curled. "What a surprise. Many of the students I've encountered here are the self-assured types. If I may ask... Why is it that you did not believe yourself worthy to stand among us here?"

"Long story short, I was kind of a delinquent back then. I'd use my magic to get up to no good. Y'know, laying the smackdown on anyone that talked shit or looked at me the wrong way."

"... 'Lay the smackdown'? 'Talked shit'? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with such colloquialisms."

"Er, it sounds really wrong hearing those words come from you... Basically, it means 'fighting' and, 'when people say bad things about you'. Got it?"

"I understand. Perhaps I will take care to incorporate such terms into my vocabulary. It may even make me appear more approachable to others."

"AHHHH!!!" Deuce startled, frantically waving his hands to silence his interviewer. "M-Maybe that's not such a good idea!! I think Sebek'd tackle me to the ground and kill me on the spot for teaching you bad words..."

"Fufufu, I jest."

"A-Are you really...?"

"Of course. Please, continue sharing your story." Malleus gestured for him to proceed. "Pray tell, why is it that you became entangled in such affairs?"

"Lots of stuff," Deuce said vaguely. "Mostly because I stood out. Didn't really fit in. It was easier to take out my frustrations on others than to work on myself.

"When my magic came to me, it was helpful to have in fights. It would drive some people off, and they'd leave me alone. They were scared of getting crushed again by a cauldron."

"Scared, you say... Hmm." Malleus looked pensive. "I see. So there are cases where non-mages feel threatened by the existence of mages."

"Huh?!" Deuce stared at him, eyes bulging. "That never occurred to you before, senpai?!"

"Magic comes naturally to me. It is capable of blessings and miracles. I cannot imagine why anyone would fear it."

"Well, I think it's because magic can do good things, but it can also do bad things.”

“Good and bad…” Malleus’s brows crinkled as the considered the thought, a finger to his chin.

Deuce’s stomach dropped at the sight. “Did I speak out of turn?! Y-You don’t have to listen to what I said if you don’t want to, senpai! Forget me, wh-what do I know anyway?!”

“… No, not at all. I was just thinking about your words. It reminds me of something my grandmother told me.”

“Eh, your grandma? Y-You don’t mean the queen of Briar Valley? I… reminded you of her?” Deuce squealed, afraid to speak her name.

“Yes, she.” Malleus’s eyes darkened, resembling a storm right before lightning struck. “Grandmother says that we Draconias were gifted with great powers—and with it, great responsibility to our people and their smiles. It is with this power that we are able to protect our country.

“Is it not similar for magic in general? The wielder is the one who determines whether one’s magic is used for ‘good’ or for ‘bad’ means. In which case… it is up to each of us to use what we have for ‘good’.”

“Draconia-senpai…!!” Deuce clutched a fist to his heart. A smile was at his lips, his eyes shining. “You get me!! I… I want to use my magic for things like that! To defend my friends and my family…!!”

“That is the way.” Malleus smirked, relishing in the newfound fire in his junior’s eyes. “The power to protect those you love is within your own hands. All you must do is shape it, guide it… and make that dream come true, regardless of the obstacles that may cross your path.”

“I’ll do my best!! If there’s one thing I know I’m good at, it’s being stubborn!”

“That kind of persistence is unique to you.” Malleus showed his teeth. “Take pride in that, Spade.”

"You bet I will!!"

"... Incidentally, how do you fare in Defense Magic?"

"Urk!!" The birthday boy visibly deflated--an indication of his answer. "N-Not the best... I studied as much as I could, but still barely passed my last exam. But don't worry about me, Draconia-senpai!!"

Deuce pointed at his temple. "I'll train my brain even more so I can get at least a C next time!!"

A C... so he means to say that he earned a D on his previous exam.

A low laugh rumbled out of Malleus. “How truly tenacious of you, Spade. I wish you the best of luck on that journey.”

He lifted a hand, fingers curling around the milky orb floating in the sky. The wind rustled upon his command, ushering in a cool breeze that chased off the bleating heat of summer.

“The birthday road, and your future, awaits.”

“Yes!! I’m on my way!!” Deuce eagerly mounted his broom. His knees were tucked together tightly, stiffly securing the handle.

“Ah, and Spade. One more thing.”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“When the times comes,” Malleus said with an easy smile, “you are free to defend yourself against my magic.”

Deuce nearly fell off of his broom at the suggestion. “Whaaat?! There’s no way I’d be able to hold up against your magic…! I’ll be just a pile of ashes by the time you’re done with…”

He caught himself and stopped. A deep breath taken, and then he set his jaw. The peacock green of his eyes had dimmed into a shade more serious.

“… No. I… I just told you that I wanted to be the kind of guy who’s capable of defending the people he loves. That means no running away, even if I’m scared, even if I know I might not win! That’s my promise to myself.”

“Fufu, that’s what I like to hear. I will be expecting you sometime then.”

Deuce gulped. “Got it! I’ll face your challenge and my future… head-on!!”

FwooooOOOSH!!

A steady wind kicked up, starting small and growing into a powerful gale. Deuce yelped as his broom bucked forward, inching above the ground on only a few startled sparkles. He looked back in horror, only to find Malleus chuckling into a hand.

Had that been a magical push?

“Heh, so that’s how it’s gonna be?” A wicked glint had surfaced in Deuce, from the eyes to his grin. “I’ll show you just how I ride…!”

Gripping the handle tightly, he leaned forward, bracing himself for a familiar rush. Height wasn’t his goal, but speed.

The world stilled. His senses sharpened, his thoughts growing louder, more insistent.

Imagine a magical wheel. Think of becoming one with the wind. So fast that you’re not yourself anymore.

He blasted off, a tornado of swirling blue petals left where he had once been. Flitting down lazily, drunken on the moonlight, they were the mark of a speed demon reborn.

The past, far behind him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Malleus Draconia #Deuce Spade #Deuce birthday takeover #something no one asked for #spoilers #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland scenarios

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honoviadakai · 6 months

Text

How team Urameshi takes care of a sick person! 🤒

(I’ve been pulling my brains out all day and running a high fever. Instead of you know…seeking medical help outside of a corner store pharmacy…imma let my creative juices flow!)

Cw: mentions of vomiting, flu symptoms, lack of common sense(it’ll make sense when you reach it)

Yusuke:

First off

Why was this the first guy you went to for medical care???

Like he’s not the worst but…

There are better options!

Also, depending on who you are, he might make it worse by accident

Ok so if your a friend, like one of the guys or just someone he’s chill with, just go find an actual doctor

He’s gonna do the bare minimum

But not entirely because he’s lazy

It’s mostly cuz…how the fuck is he supposed to help Jin’s fever when there’s a mini hurricane happening in the room???

Like he can barely take care of a human

How’s he supposed to take care of his demon friends when they’re all different species!?

The best thing he’s gonna do is refer them to Genkai or Kurama

That being said, he does makes an amazing chicken noodle soup!

Everyone gets one big bowl of the stuff when he finds out someone’s sick

Seriously that shit should be labeled as a miracle cure or something

Now if you’re family/a s/o there is a drastic difference

He’s gonna be attentive

But he’s still not gonna know what to do beyond getting antibiotics and soup

So he’s gonna get Kurama, Genkai AND a doctor at the same time

He has faith his friends won’t die from a cold

His family and lover though???

Yeeeeah

He’s gonna internally panic and do what he can to help you recover

It’s a funny dichotomy tbh xD

Kuwabara:

It does not matter who you are to him

You could be a friend, a lover, a family member, a classmate, a coworker, a complete fucking stranger even! Mans ain’t leaving you hanging. Period.

He’s getting all the medicine he can from the pharmacy

He’s making you nice warm soup

If you need to go to the doctor, he’s making the appointment, taking you to the appointment and even attending the appointment with you!

The ONLY difference in who gets what from him is his lover & occasionally his sister get sleepy sick cuddles

His lover is also getting forehead kisses if they ask for it

Yeah, there’s a possibility that he’s gonna get sick later

But he doesn’t care!

You need his help! Repercussions be damned! 😤

Kurama:

This has the funniest dichotomy between friends and lovers 😂

If you’re a friend, he gonna do one of two things

If its just a mild cold, he’ll prescribe some herbal tea he made

You’ll be 100% by tomorrow 👍

If it’s bad like a high fever, he’ll come to your house and be the best doctor you’ve ever had

Like he’s literally a home doctor without the paycheck

Pure professionalism

He comes in, assesses the issues and quickly does everything he can to cure the illness as fast as possible

You’ll be 100% by tomorrow 👍

Now let’s say your family or a lover

He’s at your beck and call 📞 🔔

You want tea? It’s already steeping

You want back rubs? He’s got a rose scented lotion to help ease your aching muscles

You want sleepy cuddles while the meds kick in? Scoot over, he’s cuddling you for the rest of the evening!

He’s low key spoiling you

To be fair…you feel icky, you deserve it!

So just let it happen

You’ll be 100% by tomorrow 👍

…but juuuuust in case…stay in bed till you’re 1000% better 😌

Hiei:

…

Was no one else available???

Is the doctor’s office closed or something???

What chain of events led you to go to Hiei of all people for medical help???????

Like even if you’re his lover…why did you come to him for help on curing the flu????

He doesn’t know what that is!!

Like…if I had to summarize what he’s like when you’re sick….

It’s this

This is the closest to “helpful” he’s gonna be

Especially if you’re his friend/ally

He’s just…not gonna do much…

He’ll maybe go grab Kurama…maybe…

He might just honestly tell him in passing you’re sick and that’s it…

If you’re family or a lover, he’s at least more nice to you

Like he’s actually gonna check up on you

He doesn’t know the first thing about tending to the ill so he’s definitely gonna grab Kurama and basically demand he heals you

He’s not gonna let you out of his sight till he knows you’re 1000% better

He might not be in the same room as you the whole time though

Honestly he might be watching you from a tree a good 5 miles from your house…but he’s still making sure you’re ok

He honestly feels useless so him essentially protecting you is his way of feeling like he’s actually being helpful

Not sure what he’s protecting you from exactly when the virus is already in your body but just let him have it, it’s how he shows he cares

#yu yu hakusho #team urameshi #yusuke urameshi #kuwabara kazuma #Kurama #yoko kurama #shuichi minamino #Hiei #sickness

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inairbinad · 10 months

Text

maybe together we can get somewhere

Written for my lovely, talented, and frequent brainworm-sharing friend @stobinesque! Happy birthday, I hope you have the best day!! 🥳💙 This one is also affectionately known as stobin: codependent delivery drivers. Featuring the soulmates soulmating, some Rockie fluff, and just a dash of Steddie. rated: T | wc: 4k | cw: none [read on ao3]

Robin slaps the classified section in front of Steve as he’s making their morning coffee. It’s been another long night of tossing and turning, of holding each other through anxious dreams thanks to the latest round of shit they’ve been through. It’s exhausting, but they’re figuring it out together. Again. Because if all they can do is stay attached at the hip, share a bed, and tell each other everything’s okay as long as they have each other? Well, Robin’s more than willing to do that for Steve. And after two times around this ride already, Robin knows Steve’s more than willing to do that for her too.

So she uses the time not sleeping to scour the paper for job leads. It’s not like she’s dying to work again, but if she and Steve ever want to realize their plans of getting the hell out of Hawkins and moving to the city, they’re gonna need something. If they can’t sleep without each other, they certainly can’t be expected to work without each other.

Luckily Robin thinks she’s finally stumbled upon something that could be great for both of them.

“I think I found our next excursion through the perils of capitalism,” she grins and takes her mug from Steve, who always knows just how to make her coffee. She’s actually pretty sure they could do each other’s morning routines in their sleep, by now.

“Yippee,” Steve says with all the enthusiasm of someone on death row. He knows as well as Robin does that they need to find another job after the Family Video quite literally crumbled to dust, but neither of them is exactly eager to dive back into the hells of minimum wage labor. Not to mention that Robin’s more than a little worried that they’re cursed, and the total destruction of both of their previous workplaces might precede them.

“Come on, as long as we do it together it won’t be that bad,” Robin tries to persuade him before telling him what the actual job is.

“You said that about the last one!” Steve points out, looking so scandalized that Robin’s a little annoyed.

“Are you saying you don’t want to work together anymore?”

“No,” Steve course-corrects so quickly that Robin can’t help but laugh at him. “I whine about work about five-hundred percent more if you aren’t there with me, Robbie. You know that.”

“I’m familiar,” she chuckles, thinking back to every single time Keith scheduled Steve to work without her at the video store. And every time they’d come back to work together at Scoops after a few days apart, Steve would have countless tales of people-watching and bizarre customers to share, even before they considered each other certified soulmates.

“So what is it?” Steve asks.

“How would you like to be one of the newest faces of Surfer Boy Pizza?”

“I thought you couldn’t drive,” Keith narrows his eyes at Robin before going back to inspect her newly acquired driver’s license. She figured it was time to get one after the shit hit the fan for the second time in less than a year, so that’s exactly what she did…after a few tries, anyway.

Steve would argue that she still can’t drive, actually looks like the words are poised on the tip of his tongue before he thinks better of it.

Robin can’t exactly blame him, not after all he went through trying to teach her. She has to hold back a wince as she relives the time she popped one of his tires like a balloon just from rolling over a curb. But by some miracle—arguably her impeccable parallel parking skills, which might be the only thing she’s actually good at, go figure—Robin finally did manage to get her license.

So the way Keith is looking at it like it has to be a fake is a little bit insulting.

“It’s newly minted, I’ll admit,” Robin sighs and leans across the counter to try and level with him. How he managed to snag up a manager’s spot here so quickly baffles her, quite honestly, since they just opened. (The rumor is that the owners saw Argyle driving around in his van so frequently that they were inspired to open a franchise. Robin isn’t sure what that says about her potential new employers, but she’s trying not to think about it too hard.)

At least she knows how to talk Keith into things he doesn’t necessarily want to do by now.

“But I’m super careful and am an excellent parallel parker,” she continues. “You won’t find any scratches on your shiny new delivery vans when I’m working, or get calls from customers saying I left a dent in their bumper like the infamous kid that used to drive for that other pizza joint in town.”

“We don’t mention that place in here,” Keith grumbles, knowing full well that he is that infamous kid. It’s another reason Robin is shocked that someone hired him to work at a pizza place again, even if he isn’t driving this time around. Keith passes her license back over before glancing at Steve, who knows to stay quiet and let Robin handle things. He merely shrugs and gives Keith a look that imparts so much confidence in Robin that it makes her heart swell. “Fine, you’re both hired. Again. But—”

Robin cuts him off with a soft whoop, surprised at how excited she is to be able to make a mixtape and drive around town without a manager breathing down her neck for her entire shift. She doesn’t really care much about the handing pizzas off to people part, more so the independence. And then to come back to the store and gab with Steve about it while they wait for their next call.

It maybe doesn’t promise quite as much togetherness at work as they’re accustomed to, but Robin has a feeling they’ll find a way to work around that.

“But—” Keith says again with his supposedly stern face on and points at Robin specifically. “You’ll deliver by bike until I trust you with a van.”

Robin feels the way her shoulders slump like she’s sinking into quicksand. “It’s about to be summer, Keith—”

Steve kicks her ankle and clears his throat loudly before he sells her out like a Judas. “Deal.”

Robin stares daggers at the side of his head like the good old days when he was just the douchebag who left bagel crumbs everywhere he went. He doesn’t look at her, though, just shakes hands with Keith and seals her to her sweaty fate.

Robin doesn’t speak to Steve again until they pull up in front of her house. “I can’t believe you threw me under the proverbial bike like that, dingus.”

“Do you want to hear my plan, or do you want to go back and quit before you even get your little yellow visor?” he asks as he shuts off the Beemer.

“I’ll hear your plan,” Robin sighs, glad he seems to have one at all. “But I reserve the right to reject it out of hand. Visor be damned.”

Steve smiles and twists around in his seat to face her, like whatever he’s come up with excites him.

“Okay, so every time Keith sends you out on your bike, you ride around the corner and wait, then I’ll pick you up in the van. That way we can do all our deliveries together until Keith trusts you to drive on your own.” Steve crosses his arms and grins at her like he’s some kind of evil, work-avoidant genius.

Robin thinks he just might be.

“I guarantee we’ll still cover just as much ground if I push the speed limit, Hawkins is so small,” he continues. “Then we’ll both basically be getting paid to do one job, and Keith never has to know.”

“You’re a genius Steve, you know that?” she figures it can’t hurt to tell him. It breaks her heart a little to watch the shadow of disbelief that crosses his face to hear it.

“I don’t know about that…”

Robin claps a hand over his mouth before he can say anything self-deprecating. “Nope. Take the compliment. I only have one question.”

“Shoot, Bobbie,” Steve says. He’s probably trotting out one of Robin’s favorite nicknames to counteract the fact that his lips are moving against her palm as he talks, which he knows creeps her out. How she understands what he’s saying anyway is beyond her, but she does.

“What do we do on nights that I’m scheduled to work, but you’re not?” Robin asks as she drops her hand.

Steve shrugs and gives her such an easy smile, Robin thinks his knack for scheming is one of her favorite things about him.

“Help cover the gas, and I’ll drive you around anyway,” he says. “But you’re pretty good at convincing Keith to schedule us together already.”

Robin wonders if maybe this job will actually be kind of fun.

Robin’s pretty sure Keith catches on to their little routine after about a week of doing it. But she’s already plotted a route around Hawkins that maximizes the ground they can cover, and Steve’s had all the best places to speed memorized for years, so every customer ends up singing their praises to the point where Keith can’t really bring himself to do anything about it.

She thinks she might never have to drive a delivery van herself as long as they keep this up. That’s fine by Robin, because even if the pay is shit, it’s probably the most fun she’s ever had at work.

It beats slinging ice cream in a sailor outfit, anyway.

People actually seem happy to see Robin when she’s the one who rings the bell, delivering their dinner with a smile and a little bit of a clumsy lilt to her gait. It always gives her an extra dose of confidence when the particularly hot moms of Hawkins are thrilled to see her—whether it’s for closeted sapphic reasons or just gender solidarity, Robin can’t help but enjoy the attention and praises heaped upon her.

“Robin, you look almost as adorable in that uniform as you did in the sailor outfit. Yellow really is a good color on you,” Mrs. Wheeler says to her one night, and Robin nearly faints from it.

Eventually she starts flirting a little—not with Nancy’s mom, but maybe with some of the others who didn’t birth her friends—just subtly enough to make getting out of the car to talk to the babes on their route worth it. Steve grumbles about letting Robin talk to all the pretty girls at first, but it’s good natured and really Robin can tell that he’s proud of her for being a little charmer.

He doesn’t mind flirting with the dudes instead, anyway. Especially not when Eddie starts ordering pizza way more frequently than is strictly necessary, even for someone still recovering from his first stint in the underworld.

“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Robin asks when Steve climbs back in the van with a goofy smile on his face for the fourth time in one week. Between the kids hanging out at Max’s and Eddie calling so often, they spend more time delivering to their new, unearthquaked end of the trailer park than anywhere else.

“Why don’t you just ask Vickie out?” Steve counters, just like he always does. Robin tries to flick some of her Coke at him (that she may or may not have snagged from the work fridge behind Keith’s back), but she fumbles the execution and ends up spilling the whole can on Steve’s shirt. Then Steve’s laughing, but also glaring at her as he whines about his work shirt being sticky now.

Robin tries to stifle her own laughter with apologies, chooses not to point out that Eddie’s laughing from his door, too. She strips her own Surfer Boy tee off, leaving just the white tank top she’s wearing underneath, and hands it to Steve to change into. They share clothes like it’s their lot in life anyway. Robin’s actually kind of convinced that one might’ve been Steve’s shirt to begin with.

“Thanks,” he grumbles and changes hastily. He finally notices Eddie’s still watching once he’s trying to fix his hair in the rearview mirror.

Robin revels in the way his neck flushes, just a teeny bit. Steve waves shyly, Eddie waves back, and she wonders how long they’ll continue to be dumbasses as Steve finally pulls away.

“Where to next?” he asks, and Robin checks her list.

Her groan tells Steve everything he needs to know.

“Vickie’s it is!” He sounds entirely too cheerful about it.

The drive from Eddie’s to Vickie’s is vanishingly short, especially with Steve and Robin’s System of Fast and Efficient Pizza Delivery, patent pending.

“Gimme my shirt back,” Robin implores as Steve pulls up to Vickie’s, feeling exposed all of a sudden in just her tank top. She anxiously looks towards the front door as she waits. The porch light’s on for them, because Vickie is always one of the more courteous customers they’ve got—and one of the best tippers.

“Oh so I’m supposed to sit here shirtless because you don’t want to show off your arms to a pretty girl?” Steve asks, and Robin whips her head around to realize he’s not planning on giving her shirt back at all.

“It’s company policy not to approach a door without your uniform!” Robin shrieks, not because she cares much about company policy, but because Steve should have her back on principle. “Plus, you enjoy being shirtless, you flirt!”

“I don’t think Vickie’s going to mistake you for a missionary,” Steve says blandly, ignoring the mild-slut shaming completely. “Plus, you’ve still got your visor on.”

“Steve,” Robin tries, but he just grins at her without moving a muscle.

“You look great. Go get ‘em, Tiger.”

“Oh god. You did not just say that,” Robin sighs, delaying further just to make fun of him a little. She thinks it’s deserved.

“I did, and I meant it,” Steve raises an eyebrow at her. “Unless you want me to drop this one?”

“No,” Robin tells him with all the annoyance she can muster. She might be awkward, flailing, and hopelessly pining over Vickie already, but she’s not gonna let any of that stop her from going up to that door. “Gimme the damn pizza.”

Steve reaches to get it out of the back and hands it over to Robin with a shit-eating grin. She really regrets not giving him more hell over Eddie back there, but she takes the box and squares her shoulders before making her way up Vickie’s front stairs.

Robin rings the bell and does her best not to fidget the entire time she’s waiting. Which isn’t very long at all. Vickie opens the door with a wide smile in greeting, looking almost angelic in the way the light behind her frames her fiery hair, her eyes bright and excited just because Robin’s there.

Or maybe she’s just really hungry, a more cynical part of Robin’s brain corrects.

“Veggie pizza?” Robin asks, and Vickie nods.

“Thanks,” Vickie says, already moving to exchange pizza for money. “That was really fast.”

“Oh, well. Steve and I have a system. I kind of buried myself in maps for a night while I worked out the quickest routes around town, then we spent the next couple of days figuring out how to drive them quickly without hitting any pedestrians or breaking too many traffic laws,” Robin says without thinking. No matter how many times they talk, Robin doesn’t seem to be able to stop blurting things out around Vickie.

Vickie just laughs though, leaning a little around Robin so she can wave to Steve who is very obviously watching them from the car.

“That’s a whole lot of dedication to the job,” Vickie comments, and Robin can feel her ears turn pink.

“Sometimes I just plan stuff out when I can’t sleep, even if I never actually end up doing it,” Robin admits.

“Me too,” Vickie says with such soft knowing in her voice that Robin wants to wrap herself up in it like a blanket. For the first time she wonders if maybe Steve isn’t the only person who can calm her nerves enough to help her sleep. She doesn’t have much time to get caught up in the thought, though, because Vickie keeps talking.

“Is that your normal uniform?” she asks, and Robin hopes she’s not imagining the way Vickie’s gaze lingers over her bare shoulders, her chest, her neck. She feels exposed, still, her skin alight with any attention Vickie is willing to give, but it feels nice. So nice, actually, that Robin doesn’t remember how to respond for a moment. “Or did you just want to show off your tan?”

Vickie bites her lip and flushes ever so slightly, like maybe she hadn’t quite meant to say that part out loud. Robin can’t think of anything but how desperate she is to kiss her.

“I really don’t tan,” Robin admits. “Freckle, mostly. Sometimes burn if I’m not careful. Which I guess isn’t surprising, given the history of skin cancer in my family—” Robin hears herself and wants to die. She snaps her mouth shut before she can say anything else horrifying.

“Oh, I burn too! Even with all the sunscreen in the world, sometimes–” Vickie cuts herself off with a nervous laugh. “Well, the freckles look very good, anyway.”

“Thanks,” Robin murmurs, and she thinks maybe she’s blushing enough to look sunburnt now.

“Robin?” Vickie asks, still holding the pizza between them like she’s afraid if she moves the moment might break.

Or maybe that’s just what Robin’s scared of.

“Yeah?”

“Can you help me with something real quick, or are you super busy tonight?” Vickie asks. The hopeful way she tilts her head is so precious Robin might implode right there on the spot.

Robin doesn’t care how busy they are, there’s no way she’s not following Vickie inside. “I can help. What’s up?”

“It’s just that my VCR is jammed,” Vickie says, already leading Robin inside and talking over her shoulder. She puts the pizza down on the coffee table and nods toward the TV. Robin ambles over, not sure there’s anything she can do to fix it, but she’s willing to try.

“You worked at Family Video for a while, right?” Vickie asks. Robin nods and tries not to relive every time Vickie came in to rent something and Robin acted like a fool. “Thought maybe you’d have the magic touch with it.”

Robin doesn’t think she’s imagining the flirtatious way that Vickie says magic touch, so she pours all of her focus into the malfunctioning machine in front of her before she malfunctions and melts into a puddle on Vickie’s floor.

She feels Vickie’s eyes watching her as she works and thinks she might melt anyway.

It doesn’t take long to figure out the problem. After some fumbling, Robin manages to untangle some loose tape from inside the deck. She can’t help but think it looks haphazardly shoved in there. “Were you babysitting, or something?”

“No?” Vickie says, voice inexplicably laced with questionable guilt.

“Just seems like it got stuffed in there,” Robin says as she turns around with the tangle on display. “Like maybe a kid was playing with it.”

“Oh. Well. Weird.” Vickie’s biting her lip and looking at her feet all of a sudden. Robin can see the sheen of freshly applied gloss on Vickie’s lips. She wonders what it tastes like.

She also wonders if maybe Vickie put it on just for her.

“Vickie?” Robin’s voice is whisper quiet.

“Yeah?”

“Did you really need my help with the VCR?”

Vickie’s eyes snap to Robin’s face, worried, like she’s been caught out. But then Robin smiles at her, so gently she feels like it might break her own heart just to feel it on her face, and Vickie relaxes her shoulders.

“No,” she admits.

Robin doesn’t know where the courage comes from, what comes over her or how, but one minute she’s standing in Vickie’s living room thinking she might pass out from nerves, and the next she’s cupping Vickie’s cheek with all the casual smoothness Robin’s ever mustered in her life. Then Robin leans in to kiss her.

It’s heady, the power Robin feels just from being the one to move first. It’s like her body was made for this, for gently holding Vickie’s face and tasting the strawberry flavor of her lip gloss, feeling the soft pout of her lips slotting between Robin’s own like puzzle pieces fitting together.

But mostly Robin is soaring because Vickie is kissing her back, fiercely, like maybe this was actually what Vickie was hungry for instead of pizza in the first place.

Robin isn’t entirely sure what being a good kisser entails, at least not when you actually want the person you’re lip to lip with so badly you’re seeing stars. There’s no universe in which Robin thinks this can’t be good, though, because her whole body is tingling from the way Vickie presses up against it, the way she gently slips her hand into Robin’s hair and tilts Robin’s head just so.

Robin feels her visor come tumbling off her head, but she can hardly care when Vickie lets out a delicate moan that leaves her absolutely weak in the knees.

“Vickie,” Robin breathes out when they separate, already wanting to dive in for more. Vickie smiles against Robin’s mouth, kisses the corner of her lips again like she’s worried she missed a spot.

“Yes, Robin?” Vickie asks, suddenly sounding much more confident than she’d looked just a moment before—almost teasing.

“That was really good,” Robin says plainly.

“I agree,” Vickie hums. She pecks Robin on the lips one more time, gentle and quick about it. “And as much as I want to do it again, I think Steve’s waiting for you.”

It’s only then that Robin even hears the distinct sound of the van’s horn honking—two quick beeps to remind her that there’s still two more deliveries they need to make.

“Damn him,” Robin mutters, and Vickie just laughs. Her breath against Robin’s face is minty fresh, and Robin can’t really be expected to function when she knows Vickie planned this whole thing, can she?

“Call me later?” Vickie asks.

Robin nods, but not before kissing her again, deliveries be damned.

“Your lips are swollen,” Steve says first thing when she gets back in the car, dazed and floaty like she’s just taken the best drugs of her life. (This is something Robin actually has a point of reference for now, and she’s easily putting ‘Kisses From Vickie’ at the top of the list.)

“I kissed her,” Robin says, staring straight ahead. Steve squeals like a little girl and bounces in his seat.

“Finally!” he cheers, giving Robin’s shoulders an excited shake. “Are you comatose over there?”

“A little,” Robin admits, but she feels the smile break out on her face like an explosion of fireworks. She sucks in a deep breath and finally looks at Steve. He looks so happy for her she thinks her heart might burst all over again. “I kissed a girl.”

“Was it everything you imagined?” Steve asks, not bothering to hide the hopeless romantic that lives in his chest and pulls all of his heartstrings.

“And then some,” Robin says, hearing how dreamy she sounds and just rolling with it. Steve starts the van up again just as Vickie waves at them both from her front window. She blows Robin a kiss, and Robin thinks she’s died and gone to a heaven she’s not sure she believed in until now.

“Seems this job was worth it after all,” Steve admits.

Robin really can’t disagree.

#read 📚#stobin #rockie #robin buckley #steve harrington #vickie stranger things #robin x vickie #fanfiction #stranger things #platonic stobin #rovickie #dani's drafts

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rpstartersinc · 1 year

Text

* 𝐇𝐁𝐎'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐔𝐒 / 𝐄𝐏 𝟏 & 𝟐.

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

“ and that’s your biggest worry? ”

“ i presume the prospect of a viral pandemic keeps you up at night as well? ”

“ you like saying no. ”

“ billions of puppets with poisoned minds. ”

“ i was gonna make you birthday pancakes. ”

“ how old are you again? ”

“ gonna have to wear diapers soon. ”

“ you’re still alive, you old fucker. ”

“ your t-shirt’s inside out. ”

“ can’t tell you how exciting it was listening to that fucking conversation. ”

“ i was gettin’ worried. ”

“ i was thinkin’ we’d make some cookies. ”

“ i don’t know why i talk to her. ”

“ you locked the door for once, good job. ”

“ you got me a present? ”

“ i don’t hear anything. ”

“ that was lame. ”

“ i put the change back because i’m an honest thief. ”

“ it’s the thought that counts. ”

“ don’t fall asleep. ”

“ wasn’t my fault this time. ”

“ help me. ”

“ get in the truck! ”

“ you killed her. ”

“ we’re gonna be brave, and we’re gonna get outta this. ”

“ are we sick? ”

“ there’s nowhere to fucking go! ”

“ i got you. ”

“ can you run? ”

“ you keep your eyes on me. ”

“ we’re gonna get you somewhere safe first. ”

“ hey! no one told you to move. ”

“ are you alone? ”

“ how did you get this? ”

“ it’s okay. you’re safe. ”

“ well, the more you shoot people, the harder it is to sleep, i guess. ”

“ you want ‘em or not? ”

“ fucking fireflies been blowing shit up all week. ”

“ it’s easy to make a mistake in the dark. ”

“ i’m not asking you to say anything. ”

“ how about we just let it go? ”

“ you gonna keep me here? kill me? ”

“ i give you my word that he won’t hurt you. ”

“ i’d like to go home and drink ‘til my face stops hurting. ”

“ they’re shooting at us. ”

“ i’m not a firefly! ”

“ people are gonna come looking for me. ”

“ let me out or you’re gonna pay, motherfuckers! ”

“ i’m not supposed to be here! ”

“ you can’t be serious. ”

“ there are worse things than infected out there. ”

“ i got jumped by a couple guys. ”

“ it’s a miracle you’re alive. ”

“ it’s a miracle any of us are alive. ”

“ i was in fedra lockup all day. ”

“ i need you to take a breath. ”

“ we’re gonna find out, quietly. understand? ”

“ i would very much like for you to hurt him. ”

“ our people are asking what’s going on, and i don’t know what to tell them. ”

“ rebellion takes time. ”

“ is this real? ”

“ keep it quiet. ”

“ you tell me to ‘look for the light’ and i’ll break your jaw. ”

“ you’re not scared. ”

“ why did you stop them? ”

“ i won’t tell anyone about any of this, i swear. ”

“ you were safe there until you decided to sneak out. ”

“ why won’t you let me go home? ”

“ i wasn’t expecting it. ”

“ you can’t be stupid like this. ”

“ obviously didn’t take ‘fuck off’ for an answer. ”

“ gimme my knife. ”

“ it’s our business to know things. ”

“ you’re the cause of it. ”

“ we don’t smuggle people, sorry. ”

“ i know what’s out there. ”

“ what are they capable of? ”

“ you trust her? ”

“ your watch is broken. ”

“ you mumble in your sleep. ”

“ i’ve never been on the other side of the wall. ”

“ look how dark it is. ”

“ but you know where to go, so we’re gonna be okay. ”

“ holy shit, i’m actually outside! ”

“ you stay close, and you follow my lead. ”

“ i’m not sick! ”

“ i should fucking kill you! ”

“ i apologise about your lunch. ”

“ is this bite from a human? ”

“ so they’re still out there... ”

“ i have spent my life studying these things. ”

“ i’m not infected. ”

“ i think what really impressed them was the fact that i didn’t turn into a fucking monster. ”

“ there’s not gonna be anything bad in here? ”

“ better them than us. ”

“ i’m gonna talk to you like you’re an adult. ”

“ fuck you, man, i didn’t ask for this. ”

“ can i have a gun? ”

“ i’ll have to thrown a fucking sandwich at them. ”

“ they hit most of the big cities like this, they had to slow the spread somehow. ”

“ whatever, i snuck in. ”

“ you got some balls on you, sister. ”

“ people like to tell stories. ”

“ have you heard of books? ”

“ i don’t know how i was supposed to know that. ”

“ you’re a weird kid. ”

“ you try climbing ten fucking floors with our knees, see how you feel. ”

“ where’d you learn to do that? ”

“ no more questions about me. ”

“ was it hard? like, knowing they were people once. ”

“ you step on a patch of cordyceps in one place, and you can wake a dozen infected from somewhere else. now they know where you are, now they come. ”

“ you’re not immune from being ripped apart. ”

“ from this point forward, we are silent. ”

“ well, i didn’t shit my pants, so... ”

“ how about you just take the good news? ”

“ is it everything you hoped for? ”

“ our luck had to run out sooner or later. ”

“ i never ask you for anything. ”

“ save who you can save. ”

“ i’m not going with you! ”

#( sentence. )#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #rp starters #tlou #the last of us hbo #tv series #apocalyptic #horror #i refuse to make one for each ep so #i might be slower just bc...#im doing multiple eps for each one

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roosterbruiser · 1 year

Text

𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐙-𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 — 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐏. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟏.𝟔𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐀 𝟏𝟗𝟕𝟗

“Did you know that I grew up on a farm?”

He isn’t paying you much mind right now. You can’t tell if he’s asleep or awake as his head lulls from side to side, his feet stroking the sheets monotonously. His eyelids are fluttering and his cheeks are flushed. Maybe he’s ignoring you--or maybe he’s just too high. Either way, his body is a mass of endless perspiration skin and hair and heat on the velvet sheets you’re lying on together.

It’s hot in here, hot enough for a pool of sweat to gather in the hollow of your throat. But you don’t feel like you can move, so you just stare up at the mirror mounted on the ceiling. You’re looking into your own eyes, those sad and big things, and trying to feel time moving past you.

You’re always trying to feel things that you just can’t.

“It was in Nebraska,” you continue, letting your eyes wander to the feathery tufts of your hair that cover the blood-red pillows under your head. You're letting it grow out--your daddy always liked it grown out; it makes you want to chop all of it off with kitchen scissors. “A chicken farm. Real gnarly work.”

He mumbles something incoherent. You don’t ask him to repeat himself.

“You want the skinny on chicken farms? They’re fucking dirty. Smells like shit and piss all the time. You can smell our farm a few miles down the road. Real bummer having boys pick me up on a mound of chicken shit,” you whisper. Now you let your eyes fall from your hair to your naked chest. Your nipples are pert and erect despite the lack of chill in the stuffy bedroom. Fuck, it smells like sex and sweat in here. But you prefer any scent over chicken shit--still, even now. “And chickens are stupid. I think that’s why we eat them--I think that’s why they taste so good. Why else would God make them so damn dumb?”

The record player in the corner is still playing A Fifth of Beethoven by Walter Murphy. It’s not very loud--you can still hear all the stragglers outside by the pool, probably opening another bottle of creme de menthe for another round of Green Hornets. There’s music playing outside, too, but you can’t tell what it is even when you strain--not over the sound of your heart thrumming in your ears. People are probably still in the pool, ashing their cigarettes in the crystal dishes your mama would’ve killed for. You imagine all the glittery bikinis strewn about the backyard, the big silver cowboy tubs full of cum and stray pubic hairs.

“I never felt bad about killing the chickens,” you whisper, shaking your head. You watch your lips form the words, watch the confession slip into the shadowed room. You don’t feel any different after saying it, admitting this thing that’s been a source of shame. “Do you know that nifty little phrase they have about chickens running around with their heads cut off? It’s true, really. I’ve seen it--no shit, I swear. You can say later days to a hen and swing the ax and it’ll run all around if you let it. I’m sure it would be confused if it had a brain still.”

He turns his face into the pillow, breathing in the sweat that drenches it.

You watch your belly rise and fall with every breath you take, let your fingers drag over the imprints of your ribs that press out against your skin now. There’s a valley there where there used to be a hill and you like to let your palm sit there: it makes you feel full even when you’re not.

“There was this chicken they called Miracle Mike--stellar name, I know--and in, like, the 40s or some shit, he got his head chopped off then lived for something like two years. Fucking far out. They let him live, didn’t try to kill him again. Took care of him. Dropped milk down his exposed throat and let him sleep with the other stupid chickens,” you whisper, pressing down on the hip bones that jut out of your body like rocks during low tide. “They even took him around the fucking United States on some gruesome tour.”

He seems to come to for a moment, turning his face away from the pillow and gulping air. You don’t turn towards him, but you know that he was suffocating silently beside you. But it doesn’t matter because he’s awake now, awake enough to reach out and grab your tit once he recovers slightly. His hand, that balmy and big thing, cups you as he pinches your nipple a few ineffective time. The pleasure is there, constant as ever, but it feels far away like it’s at one end of a tunnel and you’re at the other. Dull, maybe. It’s dull.

“What are you yammering about, Cherry?”

“Miracle Mike,” you tell him, still unable to take your eyes away from the mirror that reflects this girl lying in the bed. She looks a lot like you. “Anyway, he ended up choking on his own spit and dying in a motel because his owners forgot a dropper. Imagine surviving your head getting chopped off and living for two years and then you choke on your own spit because some space cadet forgot a dropper?”

He rolls your nipple between his fingers again and you finally give in to the shiver that tingles your spine. When he sees your back arch off the bed, when he sees that little flutter of your eyelids, he moves closer to you. He kisses and suckles at your throat, letting his half-hard cock press against your hip.

“What the Hell are you talking about chickens for?” He asks, shaking his head. His mustache is tickling the delicate skin of your collarbones, his mussed hair nudging your nose and chin as he kisses lower and lower. You can feel him growing harder against you, can feel the warmth spreading across his chest. “Chickens get your engines revving, baby? Hmm?”

“No,” you answer, biting your lip hard. “I don’t like chickens.”

He dips his hand between your legs--you’re wet. You think you’re always some degree of wet at this point. It’s like evolution; a survival tactic; adapting to your environment.

He scoffs like he doesn’t believe you, circling your clit a few times as he closes his lips around your nipple. You watch it all unfold in the mirror above you.

“You’re such a fucking fry, baby,” he tells you, his voice deep and throaty. “My little Cherry, getting all wet talking about chickens with their heads cut off. Gnarly bitch.”

You moan when he plunges his fingers inside of you--three of them, you think. There’s just a bit of a burn as he stretches to fill you, only a tiny bit. But you’re wet enough to lubricate his fingers, wet enough to let your mouth fall open and moan for him.

Your ears are ringing.

“Fucking freak, aren’t you, baby?” He whispers, his lips hovering yours. His breath smells like the Aperol he drank, the cigarettes he chewed on, the doobie he smoked, the coke he snorted. You never knew coke had a scent until you started inhaling it, until it was sprinkled in every mustache you kissed, until it littered every glass table you encountered. It smells like flowers almost--smells better than chicken shit. “Say you’re a fucking freak, Cherry. Tell me how fucking weird you are.”

The tips of your fingers feel numb.

“Buzz off,” you try.

He bites down hard on your bottom lip--hard enough that you know you’re bleeding instantly. It’s the kind of pain that makes your teeth clash, the kind of pain that makes your nose feel fuzzy. Just as soon as he releases your bottom lip from the wrath of his teeth, he’s sucking on it. You can taste metal--can feel the warm blood sliding down your throat.

“Say it.”

“I’m a fucking freak,” you whisper to him.

A steady river of blood leaks from the corner of your mouth to the pillow beneath you, clumping your hair, drying it in a tangle. He’s gonna be in trouble when Dennis sees you tomorrow--you won’t give Dennis his name, though. You’ll say you got too high and fell asleep with your lip between your teeth. Dennis will believe you.

“Tell me I’m the man,” he mutters to you, suddenly and swiftly replacing his fingers with his cock. It makes you gasp out, makes your fingernails embed themselves in his skin. Your nail is broken off on the middle finger of your right hand--his fault, too. He’s rough, rougher than your producers like men to be with you off-camera. Even if he fucked you a little bit over an hour ago, his cock feels unfamiliar inside of you as he fills you up. It’s a skinny and long thing, akin to a pencil. Pencil-dick is what you want to call him. “Say it.”

He’s thrusting into you rapidly, his hips slamming into yours and his fingers wrapping around your thighs to hold you close to him. It feels good, at least--feels good to be jerked around a little bit.

You lick the blood off your lips.

“You’re the man,” you whisper, shaking your head softly. You keep staring up at the mirror above you. Your pupils are big right now--dilated entirely in the darkness of the room. All you can see is those black pools sitting in the middle of your irises, reflecting all that flesh tangling in your flesh, gleaming in the light of midnight. “You’re the fucking man, baby.”

𝐅𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: WHO DO YOU THINK THE MAN IN THE PROLOGUE IS GOING TO BE?

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑

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