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#there is enough food and water and housing. the idea that there isn't is a fucking lie
simptasia · 1 year
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personally i don’t think anything should cost money. if it were up to me, we’d star trek this shit up and do away with that needless cause of so much suffering
however. bare min? we should at least make it so things that humans (and animals) literally need to live? that should be free. so that would be: food, water, medicine, housing, and the means for temperature control
those five things, at the very least, should be an undeniable right to all living beings. the fact that so many people can’t wrap their minds around that baffles me. and tells me my dream of No Money is a long way away
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
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Passion for Fashion Part 2
Danny glances around the room, initially supposed to be the living room, but Dan had quickly turned it into a studio. He had fabrics stacked everywhere, random clothes designs pinned to the walls, and various-sized mannequins scattered about with half-finished projects.
"It looks like Joann Craft's store exploded in here" he grumbles side-stepping into a half-finished gown dress and ducking under rows of fabric swatches that Dan just has to hang across the whole house by color because they help him visualize.
Or some nonsense like that.
Frankly, Danny was starting to suspect Dan had developed a new ghost Obsession now that grief no longer blinded him, and he knew Clockwork made it deliberately fashion design.
He is a bit unsettled that Dan's tunnel vision mirrors his parent's obsession with ghost hunting. Is it a ghost Obsession thing or a Fenton thing? Even Jazz can't get sucked into her physiology studies, so he had to remind her to sleep and eat. Eventually, Danny will find his own tunnel vision obsession. He just knows it.
Ducking two more times to avoid the shades of blue and green, Danny follows the barely visible pathway to where Dan is likely working on the first suit for the competition's first catwalk.
The first round of the competition was a mere selection round, where contestants were all brought into a large room and given a sketchbook, pencils, colors pencils, and reference books. After the surprise judge gave them the theme of household pets, they were to design two male and female outfits within an hour. Dan had entered the testing room like a man sent to the front lines.
Danny hadn't been needed for that round, so he explored Gotham, stopping to eat the famous Batburger. The food was far tastier than Nasty Burger, and he felt like he was betraying his city by how much he savored the Joker fries.
He did notice the way everyone was staring at him, much to his shame, just as he was licking his fingers clean. He scrambled to leave as a few teens whispered, gesturing to him.
He had been in Casper High to know that usually meant insults, so when a pretty blond girl stood up and started for him, he made haste to get out of there as quickly as possible.
He met up with Dan- with a carryout bag because he wasn't a monster- and found the other had blown the competition out of the water. His designs were first in the selection round, and Dan's head got three sizes bigger that day.
It's strange how used to living here he's gotten. It's been a month and a half, and yes, people still stare at him a lot, but it's not like Danny isn't used to being called a freak, so he ignores them all. Dan tried to stay inside the house as much as possible, rarely leaving his fabrics, but Danny felt restless being indoors all the time.
Amity Park is a small city, with most of it being open space and grass he felt strange being surrounded by a loud, crowded city like Gotham. He often wandered about trying to find something new and fun, though that was hard to do once the sun started setting.
He found being outside at night was a terrible idea the first time a trio of men attempted to shove him into a van.
Thankfully, Danny had been bored enough he recreated some of his parents' gadgets, and the three men had been stunned by his Fenton Tazzer wristband before they had opened the van door. Then there was that time a group of toddlers tried to mug him. He had been trying to find a park or something when seven kids- couldn't be older than twelve- all creeped out of the shadows holding knives and bats and demanded he gave them his wallet.
Danny hadn't meant to, but it was so bizarre he had bursted out laughing. He was so used to ghosts that the sight of little kids trying to be threatening was so historical that he couldn't stop laughing. He also forgot to breathe for a second since coming to this world. His body needed less sleep, less food, and got less tired, which was a plus on their wallets.
Danny laughed so hard he fell to his knees, shaking with jest.
The kids scattered at once, a few shouting, "Joker venom!" he was left chuckling to himself. After that, he got up and went home, the occasional snicker slipping from his lips.
Dan had thought it was hilarious, too.
Despite the time they have been here and Danny's many outings, they haven't really interacted with anyone else. Danny had never been one to have positive memories with socializing, and Dan frankly disliked humans too much to want to be around them.
With nothing to do but wander during the day and practice his model walk, Danny quickly got into the habit of tinkering with various machinery. At first, he needed to rebuild his parent's weapons and ghost gear- something he had been able to do since he was seven- then he shifted to building whatever popped into his head.
From robotic prosthetics to a TV projector, Danny filled the hours with some eclectic in his hands. Otherwise, he looked around Gotham and took pictures of the architect because it was Sam's entire aesthetic. How could he not try to capture this place for her?
Dan had been researching through the house internet- thank the ancients the house came with the service- and found various styles he liked experimenting with. Due to his ghost abilities, he worked faster than the sewing machines and was dishing out whole outfits in matters of days instead of the months they usually take.
He has even been walking around in whatever Dan chose to make for him since he thought it would get him used to being seen in something not his usual style. He can't afford to lose the fashion show simply because he got awkward. That would ruin his plans to help Batman and get home.
His wardrobe now varied from what Dan called "eboy", "skater" "K-pop" "casual chic" "haute" and "streetwear". Personally, Danny preferred the streetwear since it was more often than not baggy.
He had a lot of people staring at him when he walked around in Dan's clothes. Danny hopes he doesn't look as dumb as he feels.
"Danny, come try this on!" Dan shouts, snapping Danny out of his thoughts. He gestured to a black and navy blue three-piece suit that took Danny's breath away.
"Wow, Dan, it's gorgeous."
"Duh, I made it brat." He gestures to the vest, which Danny can see painfully embroidered swirls of black, purple, and a few white strips. It did not take him long to recognize the Magellanic cloud resting on the right side while the left is a mirror design in black, carefully blending into the blue. The pants, jacket, and shoes were a nearly jet-black cloth that somehow looked like a liquid even when standing still, but what tied it all together was the black cape draping over the right shoulder. It was pinned in place by a metal piece shaped like a Sirius Star. "The first round is space theme, and lucky for us, I was obsessed with NASA as a kid."
"No, but honestly, can I keep this afterward?" Danny asks, reaching out to rub his hands on the fabric. "Wow this is soft"
"It's satin, of course; it's soft," Dan snorts. "And sure, if we win, it's yours. I don't care what happens to the clothes after I make them."
"How long did this take you to make?" Danny asks, turning it around and sporting more accurately placed constellations of the satellite galaxy. It was like a picture made of fabric, curling from the right to the back of the vest. He'll have to take the jacket off at some point to show that part off.
"Three days. Without sleep."
"That's insane Dan"
"No, you know what's insane? This place has different beauty standards. It's all about the goth and emo kids here. A few Victorian lads, too. Or frankly, a straight-up twink is hot."
"What?" Danny's brain buffers "That can't be right. I was bullied and so were my friends for looking like that."
"Trust me, the ideal body kept coming up as I researched fashion trends and ideas. Nerds are in here. "
"W-what do I do with knowledge?"
Dan's eyes flashed a dangerous green. "You put it to use on the walkway. This suit is designed to show you off, and the best part? It's your natural body; no need to highlight beefed-up muscles or a wide chest like Dash."
"Oh my ancients....Am I hotter than Dash? Then the top A-lister?"
Dan grins. "We got this competition in the bag."
Across Gotham, Tim is scrolling through GothamLive- the favorite plate form of all Gotham, beating even Twitter- and he's surprised to see it covered by the target of their latest mission. He's back at the cave running coms since he got dosed in fear toxin on the last big fight. It was not too bad but Bruce didn't want him doing anything too adrenaline-inducing for a least a month.
He would argue, but even he knew his hands still sometimes shook when he trained. So he was on comm duty listening in to all his family as they moved about Gotham.
It was a quiet night with only three muggings and one car thief so far, but Bruce wanted everyone connected just in case.
Tim figured he could check in on the meta twins and found Danny everywhere on Gotham's online platform.
People have been spotting him strut around Gotham looking drop-dead gorgeous, and everyone near their age group who was attracted to men was losing their minds over Danny Fenton.
Tim found a few of him in skater clothes and felt his face get slightly warmer. Okay, they are right. Danny certainly paints a pretty picture, but that's worrying.
A pretty meta? He could be snatched up by the worst of Gotham soon.
Tim will have to get close to keep an eye on him. You know, for the target's safety.
Dan is his identical twin, which means there are two beautiful boys out there. Tim thinks, checking over the twin's house location. It's thankfully on the outskirts of Gotham, where it's not exactly safe, but it sure as hell isn't Crime Alley. They should be okay as long as no one finds their home.
He choked on his coffee when a picture of Danny dressed like a K-pop star casually lodging on a chair drinking a coffee appears on his dash. Yeah, he can see how the guy ended up in modeling if he could make poses like that naturally.
"Red Robbin to everyone, we may want to keep an eye on the Fenton's. Don't want them taken by traffickers."
"Danny Fenton already fought off a kidnapping:" Jason responds in seconds with a slight sneer. His elder brother has always hated traffickers and rapists the most. " Some idiots tried to escape me by going into the Outskirts and saw Danny. They took their chance only to be taken out by the guy's tazer disguised as a bracelet."
He sends the family a photo of the incident, and Danny's unimpressed look at the three screaming men makes Tim's lips twitch. Maybe Gotham wasn't so different from Santa Prisca. Only someone used to danger so often found would be kidnapers annoying, and that island wasn't exactly the safest place to be.
Their mother died to get them out, after all.
"That's not all. He's also fought off three different gangs, none of the big players but enough to raise some brows," Babs adds, displaying a gang of Crime Alley kids running from a laughing Danny, a group of men and women wearing the red scorpion marks running from a laughing Danny and a second group of kids- slightly older but not older than Danny- all backing away from the ice Danny had encased himself in. "The first two he tricked into thinking Joker was about, and the last one he just froze himself until they got tired of shooting and went away."
"What about the other one?" Bruce asks.
"He doesn't leave the house, but he's been very active online. Mostly, he's looking up fashion articles or trends. Recently, his search is nothing but "What are twinks, and why are they hot?". I can't tell if that's a culture difference or if Dan is just weird."
"They are not trained," Damian says, an undertone of curiosity in his voice. "But they can defend themselves well and truly know their craft. Dan's designs for my animal theme challenge were exquisite. I will be commissioning the black German Shepherd suit he made. Ace and I will look divine at the next gala."
"I kind of want the bird dress," Steph cuts in with a chirp. "I know it's not purple, but it looked cool in concept. What bird breed did he pick for it?"
"It was the Lovebird," Damian answers. "Somehow his design was both elegant and accurate without seemingly childish as the bird it was based on."
Tim wonders if Damian may start to develop an interest in fashion or if he just appreciates drawings as an artist. "So should we be worried?"
"No. Fenton has unwillingly gathered too much attention online. People will notice if he disappears. Traffickers don't go for people that are easy to recognize." Jason sighs. "For now, they're safe, but not if Danny keeps wandering around like an easy target in those tailor outfits. He looks rich, even if it's only lower first class. That will attract a lot more muggings."
"Someone will have to get close to them-"
"I can do it!" Tim shouts, cutting off Bruce, then shrinks into his chair in mortification as the family chat dies. Trying to sound less eager, he hastily adds, "You know, since I'm benched. Light work to befriend the Fentons."
"Smooth Tim." Cass laughs over the coms with his other siblings snickering in the background, and sinks into his chair.
After a moment, Bruce sighs, "Alright, Tim, you can befriend one of them, but not until your turn to judge goes by. I don't want people claiming a conflict of interest there."
Hell yeah! Tim got the job!
"Of course, Bruce."
"And no flirting."
"Spoilsport"
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fanficimagery · 4 months
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Violent Little Thing
To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.
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Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.
Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.
When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.
The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.
You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.
Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.
Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.
It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.
You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.
Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.
As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.
The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.
When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.
It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.
You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"
The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."
Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"
"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."
You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."
"Juice."
"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"
"Yeah."
You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."
"Forreal?"
"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."
"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"
You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.
As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."
"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."
"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"
Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.
"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."
You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.
"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."
"That's because it is just me here."
"Why Charming?"
You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"
All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.
"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.
Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."
Tig snorts. "And the real story?"
You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."
Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.
"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.
You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."
"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.
You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."
The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.
"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.
"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."
"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."
"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"
Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"
"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"
"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."
"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."
"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."
The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.
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Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.
Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.
In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.
One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.
Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"
With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"
You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."
"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"
Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"
"Little after five."
"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"
"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."
"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."
His lips twitch. "Worth it."
. .
. .
It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.
One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.
The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.
And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.
Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."
"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.
"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"
"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."
"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"
"Anything and everything."
"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."
. .
. .
The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.
The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.
You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."
"Friends don't stake claims."
"We're possessive friends."
Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.
From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.
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The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.
Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.
"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.
"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"
When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"
"She's my baby sister."
"Oh hell…"
"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"
"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"
"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."
At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."
"What about Juan or Happy?"
Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"
"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."
"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"
. .
. .
When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.
"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.
"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.
"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.
"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."
You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."
"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.
You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.
Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.
"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"
"Fuck. Off."
"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."
"Don't you fucking touch her."
When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"
Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."
That causes all three men to laugh some more.
"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."
You tense. "I don't know anything."
"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."
You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."
"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"
And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.
You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.
The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.
"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"
"Yeah."
"They desperately wanna come out to play."
"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.
Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."
The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.
Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.
As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.
The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.
The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.
The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.
Thwack.
Thwack. A scream.
Crack!
"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.
YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.
The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.
"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."
Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"
"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."
Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.
"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.
Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."
As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.
Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."
It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.
When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"
"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."
Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."
You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.
"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."
You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."
One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."
Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.
It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."
"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.
"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.
Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.
When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.
As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."
"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."
You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.
"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"
You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"
"Fuck no."
"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."
Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."
"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."
Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."
You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.
His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."
Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.
"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."
He grunts. "Agreed."
You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.
"Fuckin' tease."
"You started it."
You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.
"You gonna want something to eat?"
"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."
"Alright."
Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"
"What?"
"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"
"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.
You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."
"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."
"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"
Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.
"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."
"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.
"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."
All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.
"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"
"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."
As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.
"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"
You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."
"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"
Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.
Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."
"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.
"I'm not-"
"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."
"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."
"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."
"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."
Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."
"You know it."
Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.
"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.
Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."
"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.
You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.
You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.
Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.
"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.
As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"
He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"
The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…
"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.
"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.
"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"
"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."
"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."
Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."
You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.
Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."
Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"
Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."
Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.
Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.
"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.
"Does that freak you out?"
"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."
Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"
"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."
"Above my dick, you mean?"
"Mhmm."
Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."
749 notes · View notes
stevieschrodinger · 4 months
Text
Steve eats, but only because Robin puts food in front of him. Only because she reminds him it's for the pup.
Like he needs reminding. Steve often rests his hand protectively over his rounded tummy. It's reflexive, to protect the only part of Eddie he has left. He feels like he hasn't slept in months, even though he knows he sleeps often, in broken bits and pieces.
He hasn't spoken for a long time, he knows that. Everyone watches him, and everyone used to tell him the same thing, 'they're just dreams Steve, Eddie is gone.'
Steve knows though, they aren't dreams. Eddie is alive, and he's trapped in the Upside Down because Steve didn't try hard enough, didn't push hard enough, didn't say the right things to get the others to believe him.
It upset Dustin the most at first, but Dustin has also been the most adamant because he saw Eddie die, can't even entertain the idea that Eddie might still be alive, because that means he left Eddie behind. That's a lot of guilt to ask a kid to carry.
Steve knows they're talking about him again, like them whispering in the kitchen makes it any better. Steve's starving himself. Steve isn't sleeping. Steve isn't showering. Steve's mate sick even if Eddie never mated him. It's the pup. It's the trauma. It's the nightmares.
They aren't nightmares though, not when Eddie holds him close, laid on a grassy meadow under a sunny blue sky.
El is here, kneeling in front of Steve, 'do you really think Eddie is alive?'
Steve clears his throats, feels full of cobwebs and sand, 'I know he is.'
Steve's said it a thousand different ways. A million. He's cried it and screamed it and shouted it and whispered it and said it as normal and level headed as he could make it sound, 'I am absolutely certain that Eddie is alive,' no one ever believes him.
She nods, 'we will check-'
'El.' It's Hopper, in the doorway, he said 'El' the same way he would say 'No'. 'We talked about this-'
'No, you talked about this. I am tired of this, for Steve, I will check. We will check, just this once.'
And Steve feels too broken to let himself hope, but he heaves himself up off the couch anyway.
El opened a gate in the pool. There's not been water in the pool for quite some time now, and it just seemed apt. A place where there is already a weakness in the world. Perfect for El.
In the end, just to stop the fighting, everyone has gone back to the Upside Down.
Steve squints at the sunny blue sky, not at all surprised to see it. Everyone else is making suitably shocked noises. The grass is green, the trees lush. From the trees, a demodog watches them. It looks different, like it fits here, healthy and well fed now, it shakes and stretches and then lopes off further into the woods.
Everything is overgrown, like the Upside Down is reclaiming everything that One created here.
Nearby, laundry flaps on a washing line, metal band shirts and torn jeans, 'Eddie,' Steve breathes for the first time in over six months, and heads into the house.
There's a bowl of odd looking fruit on the kitchen counter. In the lounge, books. So many books, all stacked and arranged into strange little towers like they are giants in a city, and the books are skyscrapers.
Upstairs, Eddie has clearly nested in Steve's room; there are guitar bits and tools on the desk, two guitars in parts.
The bed is mounded with soft things, Steve scents a pillow, it smells like Eddie...and not.
'Where the fuck is he,' Hopper grumbles.
Steve wants to snap. Wants to scream at them all. They fucking believe him now don't they? They could have had Eddie home months ago if-
Dustin has books from the living room, in the front of each is stamped 'Hawkins Public Library'. So that's where they go.
Steve doesn't know what to do when he spots Eddie. He's crouched on a table, bare toes gripping the edge. He's pale, even more so than before, skin a pale enough alabaster that Steve can see the shadow of blue veins underneath. He's flipping through a book, back and forth, back and forth, before finally stopping and hopping down from the table, 'Eddie?'
Eddie doesn't answer, eyes trained on Steve. His hair has grown, even longer, thick dark curls that Steve wants to bury his hands in.
There's a ticking noise, a low, growling rumble as Eddie stalks closer. Things happen very very quickly, Hopper raises his shotgun, El screams 'no,' Eddie's face peels apart like the petals of a flower filled with teeth as he roars and charges at them.
Hoppers gun is jerked up by an unseen hand, his shot causing plaster to rain down from the ceiling, and then Eddie is floating in the air, roaring as his face blends back to normal and then peels apart again, furious.
El's nose is bleeding, she wipes it away.
Steve moves closer. Eddie looks strange; taller. Leaner. Just, more, somehow.
Steve reaches for him, and Eddie desperately tries to get to him in return, clawing at the air, 'put him down, El.'
'Do not do that-' Hopper starts, but doesn't finish, because Eddie lands neatly on his feet, catlike in his grace, where El drops him.
He lunges for Steve, and Steve let's himself be pulled close and gathered up, Eddie clicking and chittering quietly in Steve's ear, scenting his neck, a strange sucking sensation on his skin as Eddie's face peels apart into one big mouth.
Steve relaxes. He has Eddie back.
747 notes · View notes
berryzxx · 5 days
Text
To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part
Azriel x reader
Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate
Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :) Also ty so so so much to @sarawritestories, literally an angel and helped me with this idea GO READ HER FICS BITCHES. @thelov3lybookworm, @fell-in-luvs @sweetorangeblossom @throneofsmut
@riddlesb1tch @milswrites TYSM for the help ily all. I'm never writing angst again <3
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The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.
Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.
Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.
His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.
Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.
***
"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.
"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.
Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"
She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"
Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.
"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.
***
Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.
"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.
"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"
Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.
***
All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?
Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.
The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.
He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.
A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.
She was a goddess.
She was the fulfilment of his dreams.
She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.
She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.
He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.
He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.
He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.
Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.
Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.
Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.
Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.
Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.
"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?
"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.
"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.
Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.
He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.
"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.
Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.
His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.
He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.
He watched as her lifeless body lay there.
Still.
The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?
Why?
Why?
Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.
Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.
He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.
Mate.
She was his mate.
He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.
Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.
Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her.
His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.
The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.
His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.
A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.
His mate.
Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.
He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.
Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.
Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.
His mate.
His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?
The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.
The fates had known.
This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.
If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.
Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand, but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.
He was damned. His fate was unlucky.
He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.
Without even realising his shadows had left him too.
"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.
Lyra
If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.
A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.
***
If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart
If only he had known.
Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.
Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.
Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.
Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.
Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.
Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.
....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that
->Masterlist <-
tagging: @hijabi-desi-bookworm @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @minnieoo
@kennedy-brooke @daycourtofficial
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stealingyourbones · 1 year
Note
*slowly shuffles a wooden box of finger bones towards you* so I have two ideas for you
So, what if ghosts like, really screw with video technology, so it all kind of looks corrupted at all times- so when Danny starts recording like a blog of daily like in amity park (maybe as a way to cope with Trauma) and he posts it, maybe people outside of amity could think it’s all just like, an ARG or analog horror- if you want to go with dc/dp here, tim could be trying to solve a nonexistent mystery
For idea two, do you know ab the mystery flesh pit? If you don’t it’s basically an unreality where a gigantic super organism is turned into a National park and it’s then shit down when the organism basically coughs in its sleep and destroys a lot of stuff-( also be warned, there is a lot of body horror involved in this, so if anyone’s sensitive to it maybe don’t look at any content!) so maybe Giant Danny is taking a nap and some villains find the GIANT GHOST TAKING A SLEEP and decide to hook him up to be used as like, a battery or Lazerus pit (if you go the route of his blood being lazerus water) and the heroes get involved trying to figure out what’s happening
oh man that would be so fun. Danny just takes a little school project 10 minute documentary of the town and doesn't think too much of it when he submits it to Youtube so he can send it to his teacher.
A week later and every ARG/Analog Horror nerd on the planet has heard about this brilliantly well produced video called "Amity Park"
Now knowing this, He decides to have some fun. He takes ominous shots of mundane Amity life and splices them between the more normal scenes of himself and his friends having fun and hanging out.
He amps up the uncanny level. Throughout all of his videos, he starts to tell a slightly dramatized version of his life, not the Phantom stuff, but his life as a Fenton.
The whole world watches in awe and delight as this refreshingly new Analog Horror channel posts nearly twice a week with some of the most stunning CGI that they've ever seen. I mean 'c'mon, Sentient food. A child living in the house of two mad scientists who casually mention dismembering and destroying ghosts at the dinner table. An honest to god crazy scientist lab with a massive portal to this 'Ghost Zone' just in their basement?! Yeah, whoever made this has an absolutely incredible imagination. (Some people are even dissing it since this GZ really just feels like a warped version of The Backrooms but it's fine, it's unique enough that it makes up for it.)
------
I am a hoe for any and every topic that Wendigoon talks about in his videos so I very much so know about the Mystery Flesh Pit. (Video is linked but be warned; Benji isn't joking when they say that it's a LOT of body horror.)
I'd like to propose that Danny isn't even on earth, he's on a different planet that has collected his blood and harnessed his core for energy on a massive scale, helping create and produce items that benefit their world greatly.
To Danny, Their mining, harvesting, and energy draining efforts are the equivalent to bacteria moving around his body. He's so massive that this civilization isnt impacting him in the slightest.
The JL get called because this strange planet superorganism is now moving and it's causing the destruction of an entire civilization.
They fly over to the planet and they notice something very very wrong with the shape of the planet.
First and foremost, the two eyes spanning the equivalent width of Texas that stares up at their ship is new.
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factual-fantasy · 5 months
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I realized we know the least about the river person in ya au.
Care to remedy that?
Well to be honest.. not a whole lot has changed about her. I keep forgetting she exists and I don't have a lot of ideas for how she could interact with the group..
Though speaking of her, recently I tried to dig into her character a little more and I started by making a redesign for her. Although its only the first pass and Isn't official yet-
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And despite my attempts, for now her story and character is still relatively the same..
She was just a lonely boat keeper. She would come home from her shifts to a gloomy house where no one was waiting for her. No family, no friends.. no pets or hobbies.. she didn't really have anything going on except for running the boat. And to be honest.. she was kind'a okay with that in a way. She just accepted that this was her life, and this is how she lives. And its not like she had no joy in her life. Her joy came from running the boat.
She would take all kinds of people down the river, and they would talk to her. They would tell her wonderful things. The children would talk about their hopes and dreams. What they wanted to be when they grew up.. what their favorite food was. They'd tell her about that crazy looking frog they saw on the way here.
The elderly would tell her stories of all the places they'd been and all the things they'd seen. And even if they didn't talk to her directly.. she still overheard some interesting conversations. The young couples would talk about what they were planning on naming their first child. They would talk about what they wanted their house to look like and how many pets they wanted to have.
And sometimes the people on the boat didn't talk at all. Sometimes they looked sad and wouldn't look up from their feet.. So she would sing to them. And when they got off she would tell them "I hope you're day gets better. I enjoyed your company." And the few times she got a smile back made it all worth it.
She put her value of herself and her life on the people around her. Transporting people from point A to point B and occasionally cheering people up.. was all the worth she really felt she had..
But then Jevil and his group came along for a boat ride. Half way down the river Jevil breaks out in a cold sweat and starts to shake. Somethings wrong.
"This world is about to end." The group perks up "What?"
Grabbing Seams sleeve beside him he says louder and frantically "THIS WORLD IS ENDING"
Jevil jumps up and makes a mirror below the water large enough to swallow the boat whole.
As they fall through the mirror, horrible soul breaking sounds can be heard as that timeline collapses in on itself.
The boat probably landed in a snowdin somewhere.. or maybe another waterfall? Or maybe in a dark world.. where ever it landed, Jevil was looking the group over when he saw River Person..
"Where.. am I?"
He had done it again. Ripped someone out of its AU just as it was dying...
I intended for River person to have some kind of survivors guilt. Thinking her life had no real value and that anyone else in her AU deserved to have been saved in her place. Almost the opposite of Grillby.
Grillby hates Jevil becuase he valued his life and lost everything he held dear.. River Person doesn't hate Jevil for saving her at all. She's not sad about losing her life becuase she never really had one.. She's just grieving for all those people who died and wishes any of them could have been saved in her place.
The guilt really eats her up inside..
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doberbutts · 4 months
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We have a little free pantry in our front yard (toothbrushes, tampons, shelf-stable snacks bottled water, etc.), and I read a lot about people's experiences having one online before we put ours up re: expectations about potential interactions with people using it, but nothing prepared me for how weirdly aggro *other* people sometimes get about us having it as a form of "activism" as opposed to some other, more nebulous idea of broader social change. "Don't you think it'd be better to volunteer at or donate money to a homeless shelter, so those people can get the actual help they need?" "Shouldn't you focus more on trying to campaign for policy changes that will help more people than one street corner if you care about this problem?" "Isn't doing that a waste of time?" "Aren't you just encouraging people not to get help?" I do that other stuff when I can. This is something small I can do - in addition to raising awareness and fighting for bigger change, when I have the time and money and spoons - and at least, when I don't. It's crazy to me to approach social justice issues with such an all-or-nothing mindset as some people seem to. I've met enough of the individuals who utilize it to know it makes a difference in a very tangible way for the people directly around me.
No, I agree entirely.
Corny and dated as it is, there's a reason the saying is "be the change you want to see". If no one within the community puts in the work to fix the community's problems, even in little bits and pieces, then how will anything change? Raising awareness only goes so far. What happens when all anyone is, is aware? Aware, and still doing nothing, waiting for someone else to put in the work.
Sometimes, that someone is going to need to be you. You can't just wait around and wait for someone else to do it for you.
If I see someone digging through the trash for food, I wave them over and offer them food from my house or fresh food from a store or take them to a restaurant where they can order whatever they want. If I'm getting groceries and I see someone very obviously homeless struggling to pay for their food, I tell the cashier to add it to my bill. No one starves in front of me. Ever since I stopped needing to rely on food stamps, no one starves in front of me.
This past summer I saw someone splayed out on the sidewalk in 95F weather in direct sunlight. I couldn't tell if he was unconscious from drugs or passed out from the heat or just simply had fallen asleep in the shade and then the sun moved. I was getting groceries so I added a bunch of hot chicken to my order plus several bottles of refrigerated water. I went over to him and woke him and explained that I was worried he needed medical attention. He'd passed out because he was tired, he told me. I offered him the hot food and the water and he thanked me, telling me he'd run out of water the night before and food the day before that and didn't have any money to get any more.
Everyone else had been walking around him like he was just an obstacle on the sidewalk. No one had thought to offer any help. When I walked away, some folks who saw me told me that that was very nice of me. I don't think it was nice of me. I think that's just what you should do if you see someone obviously in distress. They agreed that he seemed like he needed the help. They didn't act. They agreed that the compassionate and right thing to do was to offer assistance and make sure he was okay. But they didn't do it. They waited for someone else to do it.
I've mentioned in passing that I volunteer for the local teen LGBT club, helping lost gay kids find their way and maybe not kill themselves about it. It's not much. I mostly just text back and forth with whatever kids get my number from the adults that run the thing. Sometimes I give them tips and advice. Sometimes I'm just the cool gay uncle they tell about their latest school drama. Once or twice I've served one of them lunch on my couch while my dogs smother them with affection and they cry about their latest heartbreak. I don't do speeches or history lessons or anything like that. I don't think I'm qualified for it, in honesty. But if even one of them doesn't commit suicide, if even one of them doesn't self-harm, if even one of them no longer feels all alone in the world because I'm there when they reach out to me, that's enough.
Today on my commute to work, the guy in front of me had a major wipeout on his motorcycle. I stopped my car in a position that none of the other cars could hit him, and asked if he was okay, and waited until his friend (also on a motorcycle) had circled back around to help him off the road and check him over. I left once his friend waved me away. I offered to call an ambulance but he refused.
A couple weeks ago, also on my commute, a woman was stopped on the side of the road, waving her arms at drivers, shouting for help. I stopped. The other drivers didn't. Her car had died, she was new to town, and she was somewhere that notoriously doesn't get cell service. I helped her call a tow truck. It wasn't a trap. She didn't want to hitchhike. She just was stuck and panicked about it.
I stop and help animals get off the road. I've lost count on how many turtles I've carried to the other side. I helped my neighbor search for a dog he saw get hit by a car so he could take it to the vet. I shoveled my elderly neighbor's driveway for her, and talked my boss into giving her a major discount for her little dog's dental in which pretty much every tooth needed extraction or he would die. When I still lived in that rental with my roommates, we were surrounded by kids. Every kid on the block knew we were a safe house to go to. If they needed food or water, if they needed entertainment, if they needed just somewhere to be, they could be at our place. When covid started, I did a "reverse halloween" since Halloween was canceled, and I put bags of candy on every doorstep that I knew had kids inside. I've done a "neighborhood santa" putting a small toy plus a small gift card for the parents on every doorstep that has kids, for as long as I've lived around kids.
When I say activism requires action, I don't mean that every single person is required to save a thousand lives. The honest answer is, unless you have a lot of disposable time and money, you probably won't. But you can still make a difference. To one. To ten. To twenty.
And you know what? I'm not saying black people specifically came up with this- but how can you be surprised to know this is how I live my life when I say over and over that I was raised by black activists who lived during MLK Jr and Malcolm X and knew community action would have the longest-lasting effects? Of course I do all this. That's what being part of a community *is*.
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reticent-writer · 1 year
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hellooooo
i was wondering if you could do rengoku headcanons where the reader (gn and child, age 4-7) is kinda like giyu (quiet, doesn't talk much, introvert, etc) but extremely clingy and doesn't know how to talk to people other than rengoku?
(plus meeting giyu if possible, making him the readers second dad maybe)
ofc you dont have too :3
love your writings!!
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◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ノ thank you ❤
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
"Y/n it's time to wake up." Rengoku gently shook you awake with the quietest voice he could muster.
You started to stir as he picked you up and brought you to the common room for breakfast.
Half awake, you tried to not fall face first into your food.
"Kyojuro that child of ours clearly isn't ready for the day." Your grandfather said as he sat you on his lap to feed you.
Contrary to popular belief shinjuro is soft when it comes to you.
"Sorry father I should've woken them up sooner." He said with the widest grin he could muster. Seeing his father handle his child with such care was enough to make his heart burst.
"Yeah you should have."
You are your father were going to a get together at tengens house. You didn't know weather to be excited or nervous.
Walking up to the estate you hide behind your fathers leg as he goes up to tengen.
"Ah Rengoku so glad you could make it and who might this little one be." Tengen knelt down to your height as your father stepped out from in front you.
You looked up at rengoku expecting him to say something but instead he urged you to.
"Hi, my name is Y/n." You said so quickly and quietly that he could barely hear you, even with him being the sound hashira.
"Nice to meet you Y/n. I'm the flamboyant sound hashira, tengen Uzui." He introduced himself as his wives came behind him and did the same.
"I'm hinasturu, his wife."
"Makio, is second wife."
"I'm Suma, his last wife."
It was clear that you had no idea how to respond and it was only making you more nervous.
Thank goodness Rengoku's eyes we're still functional as he noticed your worried face and picked you up to meet the others.
"Good job little one. You did just as we practiced, I'm so proud of you."
He ruffled your hair as you giggled.
"Both child and father souls as pure as snow." gyomei praised the both of you as you approached.
"Thank you gyomei. It is nice to see you on this fine day."
"Hello." You smiled not knowing that he couldn't see.
After a brief conversation that you weren't paying attention to your father moved on to another group of people.
You recognized two of them. Shinobu and mitsuri but there were three men you didn't know.
"Ah the happy family, how are you both." Shinobu say and rengoku handed you off to her.
You didn't mind.
'We are doing fine. I thought today was a great day for all of you to meet my child."
You waved as they all said there hellos.
You were never one for talking especially when it's people you don't know so you quietly listened until shinobu but you down and let your roam.
You were starting to get hungry and spotted a table with all kinds of food. But you were interested in the onigiri and sweet potatoes.
Walking up to the table you realize it's much higher than you expected but you weren't going to give up when you were so close to what you wanted.
You tried climbing. Fail.
You tried pulled on the cloth. Fail
You were about to stack things to reach before you were stopped but the water hashira.
"Do you want some food. " he said.
You nodded and pointed to onigiri and sweet potatoes which he provided. He got some for himself too.
"Your rengoku's kid right." He said.
You nodded.
"I'm giyuu tomioka. Nice to meet you."
"Nice too meet you too."
The both of ate in silence. But it wasn't awkward. You felt like you can talk about anything with him, and so you did.
The rest of the day you spent around giyuu he answered any question you had about anything.
He reminded you of your dad. So kind.
"Y/N IT'S TIME TO GO." Rengoku called.
You turned to giyuu and tanked him as you ran off to go home.
.
That night you wouldn't stop talking about the great day you had.
Rengoku was glad that you were getting out of your comfort zone and talking to new people.
✿✼:*゚:.。..。.:*・゚゚・**・゚゚・*:.。..。.:*゚:*:✼✿  
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cherryfennec · 3 months
Text
So this was originally supposed to have a kickass artwork of the bros using the power- up and stuff but then I got sick and then I realised Im out of time and here we are so uh hieee everyone and welcome to my post-
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Happy MAR10 Day! For the occasion, let's go back to the (not discussed in a long time) Power-Up headcanons. This time I'll focus on the Ice Flower (most of the lore under cut like last time)!
This was surprisingly requested by some (3) people. I'm going to be honest, I barely remembered this one at first. I kinda know how it looks and generally what it does, which will have to be enough to base this entire thing on. With that being said, I did some thinking and here's what I've got:
General headcanons;
This one has difficulty surviving outside of it's original environment. If you want to keep a batch in the house your best bet is to use the fridge/freezer, otherwise it looses both it's blue look and the stored energy. See, the Ice Flower originally wasn't (and still technically isn't) it's own flower species. Let me elaborate:
Nowadays the conditions there are not as harsh, however a rather long time ago travelers heading towards places like the Snow Mountain needed to be both be specially trained and very well equipped to even attempt a climb. A heat source was a big must, and it so happens that it often consisted of Fire Flowers. They'd put some in their coats to keep warm, as well as store a few in the backpack just in case they needed to protect themselves from monsters. When setting camp during their journeys these hikers would use the Power-Ups energy to start fires and cook food. After the flowers were depleted of their energy and entered their hibernation stage (I talked about it in my Fire Flower post), they would be simply thrown away like trash. Waiting for them to recharge was often not beneficial, especially in conditions like this, so there was ultimately no point in keeping them. However like I mentioned before, Fire Flowers are very adaptable, which actually wasn't that known at the time. Instead of wilting, these stubborn plants would try gathering energy like the usual, but since it was very cold and direct sunlight was limited, they decided to collect something else. While not all flowers made it, a few managed to amass the eminating frost and turn it into a new kind of energy which proved to be enough for their survival. With time even their petal colour changed to blueish hues. And thus the Fire Flowers in the area became Ice Flowers and over the years started populating the mountains and snowfields.
The Ice Flower is a multiple use Power-Up in theory but more often than not you'll find yourself without a place to freeze it after using one. If it's not placed in a cold environment during it's hibernation it'll either die or, more uncommonly, simply revert back to being a Fire Flower after a long process.
Mario and Luigi specific headcanons;
While the idea of being able to freeze stuff sounded cool it wasn't very fun to learn.
In Marios case imagine: you're good at something, really, REALLY good at something. Okay great, now imagine being told that your knowledge doesn't matter because now you need to do the opposite of what you've learned. Back with the theme of "elements don't mix", Mario absolutely hated how much effort he needed to put into focusing the newfound energy to barely make a tiny projectile. Even before he got the Firebrand he had enough difficulty with it, so it only got worse from there. This was one of the rare times where learning the bare basics instead of mastering a Power-Up was enough for him.
Luigi didn't really mind. The main complications came more from the vague instructions he received during training rather than his own inability. Suprisingly or not the Thunderhand didn't make this one much of a pain either, I guess anomalies attract eachother. While he doesn't consider this Power-Up as a favourite he still finds it pretty fun that he can freeze and walk on water. Did you know, he used to be pretty good at skating in high school. If you didn't he'll make sure to bring it up at a given occasion. Back to ice powers, he definitely outdoes his brother on this one, even if not by much.
There's probably one more thing I should mention. Despite the contrary belief the Ice Flower does NOT increase ones tolerance to cold temperatures. To be frank it might even decrease it by lowering the bodys natural temperature, making the chances of frostbite higher. And so, they learned it the hard way.
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In conclusion, this is more of a situational Power-Up. It's neither easy to find or preserve which can be annoying but despite all this it's hard to deny that it's ultimately a useful tool.
Few bonus headcanons!
I don't know how much sense I conveyed through my broken wording and less than average writing skills but it's not that shabby if I say so myself. Just like last time some details might change in the future but for now that's the general idea that I have considering the Ice Flower. Once again thank you to whoever took the time to read this!
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shuttershocky · 8 months
Note
what do you make of samurai remnant so far? As it's a weeb game, I don't expect any of the normal review sites I trust to cover it
I /hate/ Musou combat and I'm sick of Servants, so me avidly talking about this game means it's way better than even my biases can overlook.
Here's the thing: the vast majority of Type-Moon games fucking suck, because they make visual novels, not video games. "The story's good enough to make you play through this abomination" is the battlecry of Fate/Extra fans. If it wasn't for Melty Blood they might not even have any games where people play for the actual game.
This is not the case with Fate/Samurai Remnant. It's not here to blow your mind out of the water, but it's clearly a title made by people who are both great fans of the source material and are very experienced with producing games on a budget. Solid execution all-around from combat design to character art to environments.
The most notable thing about FSR though is that this game cares a lot about how things are supposed to feel. I've talked enough about how great it is to have Servants feel like real powerhouses again, but this level of care exists within the rest of the game.
"How would it feel to be partners with a superpowered being?" is the defining question informing the majority of the game design. If there's a high place you can't climb without a ladder, Saber simply throws you up there with their superhuman strength. If you're squeezing through a tight alleyway, Saber simply reappears via magic on the other side, sometimes getting ahead of you and waving mockingly while Iori can only grumble and slowly pull his fleshy human body along a tight crevice. There is actual destruction in the aftermath of the first Servant battle that you can see for yourself, which informs Iori's motivation of putting an end to this death game. Iori's neighbors express relief that he's safe because they saw his house explode, or tell him about the whereabouts of his sister Kaya, making the town feel just a little bit more like a setting Iori actually lives in.
As Iori's relationship with Saber grows, the game also tacks on more and more mechanics involving their cooperation. At the very start, Saber cannot be controlled whatsoever and is entirely dependent on the AI. As you progress though, you unlock the ability to give Saber commands and even play as them for a short time. But that's not all, Saber's AI will also start to cooperate with you, following up on enemies that Iori knocks away with a finishing move, or calling for special partner moves called Link Strikes. When you're in trouble, there's even a chance Saber will come rescue you, activating a quick time event where they lock blades with the enemy, attempting to push them back.
This is what the whole game is like. Samurai Remnant doesn't have the resources of an AAA game with an army of developers to create features like ultra HD 4k textures for all environments or realistically shrinking testicles, but you can feel most ideas started with a question of "What would it be like to have Saber here and how do we depict that in some way?" Saber would be fascinated at modern (17th century) Japan, so they often run from place to place pointing out new things to gawk at and demanding explanations from Iori. They didn't have food stalls, paper, or money in their life, so Iori has side missions to buy from every food stall to satiate Saber's hunger, which murders your wallet in-game as you are a poor ronin living hand to mouth every day and need odd jobs to make money.
It feels good to play, and not even as a Type-Moon fan where a lot of these things are something I've been asking for. I mean it's good to see another mid budget game that's neatly focused on simple, solid execution. Most review sites are giving it around a 7.5-8/10, and I'm telling you this isn't a 7.5 from a Type-Moon fan pleading with you that playing Fate/Extella's Altera route makes it actually worth it, this is a 7.5 from people seeing a decently hefty, well-made title.
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aziraphales-library · 8 months
Note
hello mods!! ive just read a fic called ''curve of old bones'' and ''snow angel'' i believe it was called and was wondering what fic you can recommend me to read that follows the themes of fake dating/ enemies to friends to lover/ pining whilst fucking sorta thing???
Hey, we have tags for everything you're asking for! #fake/pretend relationship, #enemies to lovers, #enemies to friends to lovers, #pining while fucking. As pining while fucking only has two posts, here are some more to add...
Curses foiled again by hapax (E)
To be blunt: in order to return to tip-top condition, Aziraphale was going to have to get laid. And the angel had spent almost six thousand years of his existence among humans assiduously avoiding anything of the sort. Aziraphale turns to his hereditary enemy for assistance with a particularly pesky curse. After all, it’s not like a demon has any feelings that might be involved.
Ambrosia by pilatesandpinot (E)
Those damn aphrodisiacs. They chatted as they soaked in the water, Crowley ate from a platter of fruit, hoping the sugar from them would somehow cure his sudden lightheadedness, as the blood in his head was probably pumping down to his groin, and get rid of the heated feeling in his abdomen, while Aziraphale lathered her arms and shoulders with oil. When she moved down to her breasts and tummy, she leaned back a bit, slowly and carefully cupping herself and making a small little hum sound as she rubbed her belly. Crowley had to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning, watching the glisten of the angel’s skin, the warm glow she seemed to be emitting, her lush and curvy body sitting comfortably in the water. He was indeed fucked. ------------------------------ Aziraphale and Crowley have oysters at Petronius's, and soon learn while visiting the bath house afterwards why oysters are one of Aphrodite's favorite foods.
May My Teaching Drop as the Rain by Dee_Morris (E)
Several people on Twitter have commented that there isn't enough Ineffable Tutors content out there, and I have to agree. The book doesn't go into very much detail about what Cortese and Harrison get up to in the years they spend educating young Warlock, and as a fic writer there's nothing as much fun as a blank space to play in. I expect that the stories in this series will more or less stand alone, but I'll add notes and recaps where I think it's necessary. These will mostly be light-hearted horny adventures with little to no angst. Tags may change or be added as I write more stories.
Out There by snae_b (E)
Small town paper, small town news, and Aziraphale always gets stuck with the shit stories. Strange lights in the desert? Aziraphale might as well be writing about el Chupacabra. Again. At least his source is cute, even if he is a little out there.
The Arrangement by TawnyOwl95 (E)
Aziraphale and Crowley are set up on a blind date as a joke by their respective housemates. They decide to get their own back and call everybody's bluff by *gasp* fake dating!
Craving by DawnOfTomorrow (E)
“You want me to pay for it.” He drawled, leaning back in his chair. “Don’t put words in my mouth.” His assistant said, entirely unimpressed by the fact that he could fire her. “You said-” “I said that it would probably be a good idea for you to get some, and if you can’t be bothered to do it the normal way, that there are professional options. And then I said that if you’d like, I could recommend someone.” --- He called the fucking number. He didn’t know why – okay, he did, he was an idiot, tipsy, lonely, and horny – but he called the damn number. --- Even just looking at the blonde’s profile, he felt a twinge in his gut. Blonde curls indeed – over features that revealed the other man’s age, light eyes, and a cute, upturned nose. Slim lips, currently curved in a smile for the bartender. Crowley studied the rest of him too – a bit of chub, not enough to be fat, but definitely dad-bod territory. He sighed softly, wondering what sort of witch Anathema was, because she had been spot on about this guy being his type. He didn’t even need to see the large hands or plush thighs to make up his mind – this… this could work.
- Mod D
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apuckishwit · 1 year
Note
platonic stobin and/or any flavor of steddie prompt: Robin might be nosy, but at least she isn't getting caught staring with binoculars around her neck, [insert child's name in italics here].
(Dustin was my first thought but I can see any of them. Except maybe Will; I doubt he'd get caught >:)! )
It's a damn near perfect day.
The sun is shining, warm enough to swim without it being too hot. No one is dying, no one's injured, there are no nightmarish beasts bursting out of the Upside Down (there never will be again and isn't that something Robin feared she'd die before she saw?). No, they're actually having a pleasant day at the quarry, just her, Steve, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle.
"Grownups only, shitheads," Steve had announced when Nancy brought up the idea last week at the Hellfire game night being hosted at his house.
"You're not inviting Hopper and Joyce!" Mike had protested.
"I said grownups, not parents. There's a difference," Steve had fired back smoothly.
"I am at least twice as mature as Argyle," Dustin had squawked.
"Cancelled out by the fact that you annoy me at least three times as much," Steve had said, accepting a somewhat off-target fist bump from Argyle and a mumbled, 'righteous, thanks dude.'
Even Max had been unable to wheedle anything more than a promise to host a pool party at his house before the summer weather broke for good. Eventually, the kids had subsided and the six of them spent the next week planning the perfect day out.
Just a chance to really sit back and revel in the fact that they have their lives back. That they made it through the horrors lurking underneath Hawkins, that they've really beaten it. That Vecna/Henry Creel/One is fucking dead and despite his best efforts, he didn't take any of them with him. A chance to celebrate the fact that they can be stupid kids again for a little while before the ordinary, everyday problems of adulthood start creeping in again.
It's been perfect, so far. The quarry is surprisingly deserted, only a few other groups staked out on the thin strip of beach and all of them far enough apart not to bother each other. There's good food, courtesy of Steve, good beer, courtesy of Jonathan, and though Eddie and Argyle haven't said anything, she fully expects there to be good weed later. They've been crashing in and out of the water for a few hours, and now she and Steve are stretched out on the beach blankets they've spread out, shooting the shit about customers they've had to deal with in Family Video lately and sort of idly discussing what they're going to do when Keith inevitably gets tired of them and Robin's parents start making noises about her going to college after her year off to "process the tragedy of the earthquakes."
Steve's answers are getting slower and slower to come, a full belly, the warm sun, and a run of late shifts this week so he could be free in the mornings to take Max to physical therapy all conspiring against him. She's unsurprised when his voice eventually fades to a soft snore, and she glances over at him fondly, reaching over to ruffle one hand through his hair and laughing when he makes a grumpy, discontented noise before settling again.
She's about to dig around in her bag for the book she's been reading when Eddie comes bounding up out of the water, flipping the bird at Jonathan and Argyle, who are laughing hysterically while Nancy watches on, perched on one of the anchored platforms the city had built around the quarry a couple years ago.
Robin tries very hard (and fails very hard) not to notice how good the other girl looks in her purple and green two-piece.
Eddie opens his mouth as if he's going to call out to them, but snaps it shut abruptly when he catches sight of Steve. It's become one of their unspoken rules--you announce yourself loudly when you're coming up behind Nancy; no sudden, quick movements around Eddie; absolutely nothing resembling a clock chime around Max and Lucas. And if Steve's feeling relaxed enough to fall asleep, you do not wake him up unless it's an emergency.
Eddie slows his steps as he approaches, a quiet look of adoration flashing across his expressive face before he seems to remember she's there and quickly schools his features. It's getting harder and harder to pretend she doesn't notice them, doesn't notice the answering way Steve's eyes just follow Eddie whenever he's not looking. She's promised herself she's not going to say anything until Steve does...Eddie had come out to the group soon after they defeated Vecna, but she knows better than anyone that this is something Steve has to figure out for himself. She has a whole stack of pamphlets and articles about bisexuality on standby, but that's as far as she's letting herself go until Steve broaches the topic.
Although, if they don't get their heads out of their asses by Christmas, she may have to reevaluate. She'd be lying if she said she wasn't getting a little impatient.
"Hey," Eddie says softly, dropping down onto the blanket on Steve's other side, far enough away that he won't drip any of the icy quarry water onto Steve's skin.
"Hey yourself," she answers. "Get tired of being drowned every thirty seconds?"
"Argyle's a dirty cheater," Eddie declares hotly. "That chill, super cool vibe is a front I'm telling you, but no one believes me."
"Mmhmm," she says with a smirk, that softens into an affectionate smile when Steve stirs and turns over at the sound of Eddie's voice, curling onto his side facing Eddie, all without ever waking up.
Eddie's face goes soft and adoring again, almost gooey, and Robin is biting her tongue so hard she's tasting blood. She flicks her sunglasses down over her eyes and pretends to be finding the bushes and trees just off to their side very fascinating so she doesn't have to watch the sickening, ridiculous pining going on two feet away from her. Jesus Christ, at this rate she won't even be mad if Steve gets a boyfriend before she gets a girlfriend.
it is as she's pointedly scanning the treeline that she catches a flicker of movement--too obvious and large to be an animal. She freezes for a split-second, adrenaline flooding her system, and she is opening her mouth to yell out a warning, getting ready to leap to her feet, when a flash of color registers and resolves itself into Dustin Henderson's familiar trucker cap.
The little shit ducks further behind a large bush, and Robin narrows her eyes. He's facing her, Eddie, and Steve, and who knows how long he's been there. She turns to face the water again, taking advantage of the sunglasses to keep her eyes on the spot where Henderson's hiding. Sure enough, after a few seconds, his head pops back up cautiously, something raised to his face.
Oh for pity's sake.
"Hey, I'm gonna run up to the cars and grab some more sunscreen," she says, and jumps to her feet without waiting for an answer.
It's takes her several minutes to work her way out of Henderson's sight and then double back around, and her outfit (a bathing suit, a pair of cutoffs she's pretty sure belong to Steve, and flipflops) isn't really the best for tramping around in trees and brush, but it's worth it when she's able to sneak around behind Henderson and clap a hand down on his shoulder.
He jumps about a foot in the air.
He screams like a girl.
And really?
Robin might be nosy, but at least she's not getting caught staring with binoculars around her neck.
"Robin! Hi! Wow, fancy, uh, fancy meeting you here," Dustin says, one hand pressed dramatically to his chest. God, he really might as well be Eddie's child.
"Whatcha doing, Henderson?" she drawls, crossing her arms over her chest.
Dustin sputters for a second before drawing himself up and planting his hands on his hips. "I...am, am birdwatching. Obviously." He sniffs, a bitchy look settling on his face and Robin has to bite the inside of her cheek not to laugh.
He might as well be Steve's child, too.
"Uh huh." She stares at him, unblinkingly.
He holds her gaze for a good thirty seconds before finally cracking. "Ugh, fine. I was just..."
"Spying?" she supplies helpfully.
"Observing."
She raised an eyebrow. "Observing what, exactly?" She's pretty sure she knows, but she's gonna make him say it, damn it.
She likes Dustin. She likes all the kids (well, okay, sometimes Mike Wheeler gets on her nerves, but he's got a good heart under all the teenage angst...and it's not like he doesn't have a shit ton of reasons to be moody. They all do.) but she'll be the first to admit that she doesn't have near the patience for them that Steve does (and he really does, despite his constant bitching about it).
Dustin's face does a weird little scrunch--one that she has frequently observed on her best friend's face when he's trying to articulate something complicated, Jesus Christ--and then his shoulders slump. "I just thought it was weird that Steve didn't want us tagging along. And then El said maybe you guys all just wanted some privacy, and like...I know Nancy and Jonathan called it quits, so Lucas and I were wondering if maybe Steve was gonna shoot one more shot with her, which, I know you know would be a terrible idea. They care about each other, sure, fine, but I mean...we all watched that shitshow in the RV, you know?" He pauses, out of breath, and Robin keeps her face utterly blank.
She and Dustin don't have a great deal in common, but one trait they do is a tendency to overshare in the face of silence.
"I just don't understand why you and Steve won't just give yourselves a chance!" he blurts out finally. "You two are, like, creepily in tune with each other! You'd be so good together!"
Yup. This again.
"You are weirdly invested in Steve's love life, little dude," she says mildly.
"I am not!" Dustin protests.
Robin levels an unimpressed look at the binculars. Dustin blushes. Finally, though, his face falls, something a little vulnerable entering his expression.
"I just want him to be happy," he mumbles, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. "I mean, you too, obviously...and I know you don't, like, owe him anything if you're not interested. I just...don't understand why you're not interested."
And damn it, sometimes the way this kid and her best friend bicker makes it easy to forget how much they really love each other.
She's still not really ready for the group at large to know about her. She knows in her head that no one will have a problem with it--they'd all accepted Eddie. They've accepted the kind of weird 'we're just seeing what develops' vibe Jonathan and Argyle have going on. If she's not misreading things, Will is going to have something to say soon, and El and Max are already trying to subtly let him know they've got his back. She knows these people are safe. It's just...hard. She's going to tell them. Soon. She just needs a little more time.
"Look, Dustin, that's really sweet. But I need you to understand that Steve and I are just friends, okay? We are never going to be more than friends, and we're both happy with that, okay? You need to butt out."
Dustin nods, but she doesn't miss the slightly mutinous look on his face. He really can't stand not to be right. Oh for...
Oh.
Oh wait...
Steve will be pissed. But if it gets Dustin off this fixation on her and Steve dating...
And oh, it might even provide the push Steve needs without her having to break her self-imposed promise not to interfere.
Fuck it. She's gonna lose her mind if she has to watch anymore of this pining.
"Besides, Steve's got his eye on someone else," she says, like it's obvious. Like she can't believe Dustin hasn't noticed.
Dustin takes the bait. "What?! Who?! Shit, he's not shooting his shot with Nance again, is he?"
Robin laughs. "No. No, I can definitely assure you he's not looking at Nancy."
"Then who? Ugh, not another random girl from town? I thought he gave up on that."
"Sorry Henderson, best friend secret privileges. Figure it out. He is not being subtle."
And with that, she swings around and starts marching back to the path that will lead her back to the beach.
"Robin! Robin! Come on, you can't just leave me hanging! Who? Robin!"
Ah well...even if Dustin doesn't bull his way into snapping the tension that's been building between Steve and Eddie, it'll still be hilarious to watch. Serves the little shit right for spying.
"ROBIN!"
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adalwolfgang · 3 months
Note
I'm a very new anon here ^^
But could you if you're up for it please write some yandere chop top hcs? Im surprised there's not more for him
-📻
A/N: This is my first time writing for chop-top so this was fun. But that also means he might be a little ooc for some.
'Chop-Top' Sawyer
(Credit to @mo0nlyte for some ideas)
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Possessive
Possessive
Possessive
Literally acts like a dog with a bone when it comes to you.
You got family? Friends? Anyone else? Not anymore you don't. Just him and his family are the only people you need. Even then he try's to keep you away from his own family while also showing you off in the process. He just can't help but flaunt you around. I mean look at you! You're adorable!
We've all seen him stutter when he get's nervous or excited, oh but with you? Gibberish. Dude has to repeat one word five times just for you to understand him.
But now if he is mad? Yikes.
If he even notices you thinking of escaping the property, you're better off dead. He'll talk the most fluent speech in his life. Hell it practically gives both a Drayton and Bubba a heart attack hearing him talk so 'normally'. If this man isn't stuttering, that's when you know he's anything but happy.
I feel like at the start of this whole ordeal, he would semi-respect your boundaries. I can't stress the semi enough.
He would test the water early in small portions like for example, when he first had you tied up in his room in the corner, he would bring you food and feed you himself. He would also on occasion pat your head if you were good and say words of affirmation. Again, semi.
If you show any sort of fighting back towards his actions or words, 100% delusional. Believes that you'll come around sooner than never no matter your protest.
He'll start getting more bolder, like cuddling you, forcing you to walk around the property with him, sleep in his bed instead of the floor, hell sometimes help him with chores around the house to give you something to do. But he'll never leave your presence. So escaping is practically impossible.
If he does for some reason need to part from you temporarily, don't expect him to be gone long. Even then, as much as he hates it, he'll get one of his brothers to watch you while also threatening them to not lay a single finger on you unless you try to escape. Again, hella possessive.
As much as it may shock others, his brothers start to grow worried and confused as hell. Like Drayton was well aware his brothers, hell his whole family, was crazy. But one of his brothers being crazy for a person? Let alone being all lovey dovey? Might as well tell him the sky is falling!
Overall, there is no escape. You wouldn't make it past their property line let alone the nearest town without getting caught. So you'd best get used to your new life quick before you go insane, or worse, dead.
Or is it the other way around?
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Hey, I've tried searching your blog for this but I could only bring up posts advocating against rack systems (rightly so obviously)
I recently got an adult ex breeder BP, she's massive (5'7") and was kept in a 12 gallon bare bones rack tub for her whole life. I got her because a pet shop near me that bred snakes is shutting down, I did pay for her which I feel bad about but they aren't breeding anymore so I guess I'm not funding unethical breeding? Anyway that isn't really relevant I just am rambling
I've heard that taking a BP from a rack system and putting them in their forever enclosure can be really really stressful for them so right now she's still in her tub on my desk but I feel really bad keeping her there.
I have a 6x2x2 set up, I wanted to get a 6x2x3 or 6x3x3 even but couldn't afford it so I'm hoping that's good enough for her.
But how would you transition her to that enclosure? I recently gave my house snake a bioactive enclosure and I love it so the 6x2x2 for the BP has been cycling as bioactive for about 3 weeks (Ive had her 5 days) and seems stable but I'm worried that it's too much and she'll hate it and go off food and stuff (she's quite skinny too:()
But yeah I would really appreciate, if you have the time, any advice on this front. Thank you very much and keep up the good work 👍💟
I just went through this with my new Borneo python, Hobie. Just like your girl, he's spent his entire life in little tubs in racks.
You're right that transitioning a snake like them into their full enclosures is something that should be done delicately! I'll tell you my process and what I do to make it easier for them.
One challenge that you might have is with your enclosure already being set up as bioactive. That's probably going to be quite a bit more overwhelming, and my main concern there is with the lighting. If she doesn't respond well, it's going to be hard to tell if that's because she's just adjusting or because she just doesn't like the lighting (some ball pythons just don't, but unless she's albino or another melanin-reducing morph it's not a bad idea to give it a try).
If it's possible, my idea for you would be try to try transitioning her to a less overwhelming enclosure first. I set my Hobie up in a 40 gallon for now, even though he's going to be moving to a 6x2 later down the line. If you do that, you'd be able to slowly get her used to the lighting once she's adjusted to a larger enclosure itself. If you can't do that, consider adding as much shade as possible for her and even keep the lights off for as much as you can.
Alright, so my process for transitioning former breeder snakes to more appropriate enclosures prioritizes going at the snake's pace and ensuring their comfort.
The first thing I do is put their tub directly into their new enclosure. Just right on top of everything, don't even worry about it. Your goal is keep your snake in a familiar environment while also exposing them to new stuff. Check out Hobie's setup - literally just the tub, substrate, and a water bowl plopped inside the bigger enclosure. You're going to feel tempted to give them lots of new clutter and enrichment - don't. Keep it simple and easy for them, you don't want to overwhelm them!
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Then, be patient and let them explore at their own pace. Some snakes will leave their take-home tub almost right away, some will take weeks. Hobie took three weeks before he started feeling comfortable and confident enough to explore outside of it. During this time, offer food and feel free to handle a bit, but keep it short and sweet.
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Your snake will likely retreat back to the tub a couple times, but eventually they'll find their new hides and check them out! Wait until they're comfortable - calm, resting, and relaxed inside their new hiding places - and then you can take the tub out.
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Once they're comfortable in their full enclosure, it's time to introduce them to enrichment! They'll probably need you to show them their climbing branches and other enrichment items - snakes like them just aren't used to being able to do natural behaviors. Hobie had a great time when he learned he had a swimming pool all to himself!
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Take it very slow when you add new things, and don't be afraid to backtrack if your snake gets spooked. Hobie got a little stressed when we tried adding more tunnels for him to check out, but it's fine to take things out and re-add them if your snake isn't ready just yet.
Your snake probably won't know quite how to interact with their environment at first, so just be patient with them! Right now, Hobie's going through a phase where he just hasn't realized he needs to avoid burrowing in substrate that is wet, but short-tails love to soak anyway so it's not a big deal. There will be so many opportunities to find joy in watching them learn and explore!
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All the best to you and your girl! It can be a little heartbreaking to get snakes like her adjusted to their new setups, but with time and lots of patience, it doesn't need to be stressful for either of you! Remember to go at her pace and lean into what makes her feel most comfortable.
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iprefertheterminsane · 4 months
Text
All this talk of a wedding and the perryshmirtz era revival (which im sure is at least 98% attributed by the boycott and queerbait again) is making me want to churn out a perryshmirtz wedding AU ficlet. So hear me out;
Perryshmirtz Fake Wedding AU
Not least inspired by @echoes-of-the-unknown 's fanart taking the cake for most reblogged recent post by the perryshmirtz tag featuring a confused Heinz; a panicking, blushing Perry; and the kids doing what they do best: inciting chaos.
It's hardly the first time human!Perry has had to juggle the discretion of his two halves; keeping Heinz and the consequent violence and political dangers of the agency and undergeound villainy AWAY from the already PRESENT continuous dangers of his boys' adventures. Despite Perry's white knuckled grip on control, the tri state area is TINY, and the damn things overlap whether he wants to or not. This isn't even the first time he's caught smack bang in the middle of it, but he's usually brighter than this.
The tight knit group of middle schoolers looks at him expectantly, covered in grease (likely attributed to their latest technical contraption of the day) and leaves (likely attributed that they are in middle of a pollen infested Danville Central Park in the middle of spring.) As fate would have it, he has Heinz in a headlock, which is not so unexplainable even if neither Phineas nor Ferb would have ever expected their mellow behaved Uncle could ever be brought to incite such violence on a stranger, much less had expected him to leave the house. The picnic blanket, flowers and food (it's thematically related to Heinz's scheme today, and a backstory related to his first high school date) is much less easily dismissed.
I'm-
-Think fast think fast think fast think fast-
On a date.
Isabella's eyebrow twitches up sharply. Perry barely holds in a wince as Phineas and Ferb shares an equal look of surprise, if perhaps kinder.
Heinz has gotten still in his arms, and it is a silent blessing. Perry readjusts so his grip looks like he's attempting to choke the life out of the man, much more like a white knuckled hug from behind.
"We didn't know you were dating, Uncle P," Phineas says, politely. Suspicious, but yes, polite, because Linda had raised him right, of course. "How did you meet? How long have you been together? Does mom and dad know?"
The idea of the kids getting this news back to Lawrence and Linda somehow, adults who are less likely to react unpredicatably and blow it somewhere out of his control sends a splash of ice water down his back, and he's practically sputtering without second thought.
You can't tell them, Perry signs urgently. Because-
The kids wait patiently, which makes things worse. Perry is stuttering through his signs as he attempts to make something on the spot.
You can't tell them because he's not my...boyfriend.
Their brows furrow in confusion, almost in sync.
He's my- Perry winces. -Fiance (?)
All at once shock overrides their expressions of doubt and confusion, the childish giddiness and appeal of marriage taking hold of their previous suspicions. Marriage was serious business, after all. One does not lie and dither about marriage. It's genius. He's doomed.
Baljeet's gasped and dropped his armful of sheepskin (where on earth would the boys have sourced these things-) for dramatic affect. Isabella has her hands over her mouth, her eyes taken a sheen of romantic yearning. Phineas is apologizing profusely, and Perry is begging to everh merciful Law and Deity listening Heinz does not decide to speak up right then.
Things are complicated on Heinz's side of the family, Perry explains, which is close enough to the truth that he doesn't feel guilty about lying to the boys any further. We're trying to arrange things a bit more carefully before we decide on anything full proof and explain things to your father.
The children clamor with further questions, save for Ferb, who continues to stare with an undicipherable look on his face. Baljeet's question rises above the rest in a brief moment of respite, and it is a simple, sweet enough request that he does not have the heart to refuse: "Can we help with the wedding planning?"
Sure. Perry says helplessly. Maybe once we decide we can follow through and I break the news to Phineas amd Ferb's parents, maybe-
The children are too busy cheering to listen to the rest of his words, their priorities sorted and greenlit as far as they are concerned. They promise to plan for a wedding to be remembered, the best wedding in the history of Danville, and are finally compliant enough to be shoo-ed away, discussing flower arrangements, officiants and-bizzarely, extraterrestrial port arrangements and guest lists.
Perry waits, at least, until they are out of earshot before he allows the weight of his impulsive actions to overcome him, but Heinz finally speaks before he could.
"So," the german-borne scientist cuts in in what Perry assumes he thinks of as a very casual manner. "Fiance, huh?"
Perry faceplants into his cupped hands, and Heinz chuckles where he still hadn't moved, tucked in between Perry's legs in a fascimile of a hug.
I'm really, really doomed
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