#*blows bubbles out of pipe*

[yuri-is-online]

Me: we can't add a smut scene to every long fic it's a lot of work and unnecessary-

Also Me: Yuu absolutely needs to see Mafia Boss Azul’s underwear it's part of the character study

[thedemoninme141]

Not A Bad Day.

Parings: Wednesday x Female Reader!

Summary: Wednesday is having a bad day.

Warning: FLUFF!!! WhippedWednesday! Soggy Shoes! (Author's note: The Office inspired me to write this.) Main Masterlist

Wednesday considered herself well-acquainted with misery, but today seemed particularly intent on testing her patience. From the moment she woke up—thirty minutes late, no less— a mortifying mistake that never would have happened at home. There, her beheading alarm would have swiftly corrected such negligence.

She sighed, Dreams about you might be her demise one day.

Getting dressed was a simple affair, but Wednesday’s shirt decided to be uncooperative, with a button popping off as she fastened it. She muttered darkly under her breath, already plotting how she’d punish the garment later.

She couldn't escape her room without hearing Enid's annoying "Good morning Willa." She can already feel it; this day is going to get worse.

The next blow to her day came in the form of a WHOLE two-point deduction on her literature test. Ninety-eight out of one hundred. Unacceptable. Wednesday had never scored below a perfect hundred in her life, and the sight of that glaring red "98" felt like a personal affront. She glared at the paper, as if willing it to correct itself through sheer force of will. But it remained stubbornly the same.

If that weren't enough, Bianca had beaten her in the fencing match. It wasn't that Bianca was an unworthy opponent; on the contrary, she was the only student who ever gave Wednesday a challenge. She had lost to her before but losing to her today, of all days, felt like a deliberate twist of fate.

Then there was lunch. Wednesday was usually content to sit alone, Only reason she started sitting with Enid is because... You, with your disgustingly wholesome smile, would be there, chatting with the group as Wednesday would steal her glances at you. But not today, you had to sit with the group from your art class. She doesn't care it was because of your group project, all she saw was how you laughed at something someone said, your smile like a knife twisting in her gut. She stabbed her fork into her lunch with unnecessary force, imagining it was the face of each and every person at your table. She dissected them in her mind, weighing their worth and finding them all significantly lacking. Why did you seem so content, so oblivious to her glaring presence?

So hurriedly, she got up, distracted by another sound of you laughing, running into Kent, who managed to spill his drink all over her freshly cleaned boots. The shock on his face as he stammered apologies did nothing to quell the rage bubbling in Wednesday’s chest. She was about to take out her knife and skin him alive in front of the whole school, but the whole school also included "you". So she just shot him a glare that promised retribution far worse than anything he could imagine before marching off to her next class. Her boots squelched unpleasantly with every step, and she found herself grinding her teeth in frustration.

When she returned to her room, She found Enid, frantically digging through her side of the room, tossing clothes and accessories in every direction as she prepared to go somewhere. Normally, the sight would have irritated Wednesday beyond measure, but today, it promised peace and quiet in the room once Enid left. Finally, she could get her writing time all to herself without Enid's constant chatter with Ajax on the phone.

She settled at her desk, getting her typewriter ready, Enid piped up, not waiting for Wednesday to ask what she was up to.

"I'm going to the mall with the girls, Do you wanna come too?"

Wednesday didn’t even look up from her typewriter. "Absolutely not."

Enid didn’t seem fazed by the cold response and, still humming a tune under her breath, made her way to the bathroom. Wednesday was just about to enjoy the rare tranquility of the room when she heard a soft knock at the door.

She opened it with her usual grimace, only for it to fade slightly at the sight of you standing there. Your bright eyes met hers as you greeted her with a warm smile, one that always seemed to disarm her no matter how much she steeled herself against it.

"Hey, Wednesday! Is Enid ready yet?" you asked, your voice light and friendly.

Before Wednesday could respond, Enid's muffled voice rang out from the bathroom, "Five minutes!"

Wednesday shifted awkwardly, the silence stretching out as you stepped into the room. She closed the door behind you, trying to ignore the sudden flutter in her chest.

"Thanks," you said, making yourself comfortable on Enid's bed. You glanced over at Wednesday, your expression softening. "Hey, why don't you come with us? It could be fun." you said just as Enid got out of the bathroom. "Wednesday? Fun? She’s not really into shop—"

"I need to buy a watch." Wednesday interrupted, the words slipping out before she could stop herself. She could have slapped herself. A watch? Out of all the excuses in the world, that was the best?

Enid blinked in confusion, her brows furrowing. "But you don’t even wear a—"

"I wear now," Wednesday snapped, cutting her off sharply. Her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of color.

"Okay then, Get out of those soggy shoes if you wanna join us," Enid said,

Soggy shoes? Owh... she had been wearing coffee-soaked shoes in front of you the whole time? Where was her mind today? This day can't get any worse.

Yet, somehow, it did. There she was, suffering through the ordeal of Enid browsing through every hideous, brightly coloured dress imaginable. She watched as Enid and Yoko flitted from rack to rack like hyperactive butterflies, pulling out monstrosities of neon and glitter. She shuddered internally at the thought of anyone ever considering those abominations fashion.

"How long can it possibly take to find something as uninspired as a pink sweater?" Wednesday muttered under her breath, glancing at her forcefully bought watch for what felt like the hundredth time. It was getting late. If it were up to her, she’d have left Enid and Yoko to fend for themselves. A mugging wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to them after sunset. But then there were you, and Wednesday wouldn't want you to lose the purse she gifted you on your last birthday. It was annoyingly, pathetically enough to make her stay.

The drive back was hardly any better. The bus was packed, loud, and the journey felt interminable. Enid and Yoko continued their chatter, oblivious to Wednesday’s increasingly sour expression. She stared out of the window, willing the outside world to disappear so she could retreat into her thoughts. If only her powers could manifest to the point of invisibility, she’d gladly vanish right there.

But then, something changed. A weight on her shoulder.

You, sitting beside her, leaned your head against her shoulder as you let out a tired sigh. You had drifted off, exhausted from the day, and the quiet weight of your presence was the most soothing thing Wednesday had experienced all day. Wednesday didn’t move, didn’t dare to breathe too deeply for fear of disturbing you. The chaos around her faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic sound of your breathing.

Not a bad day, she thought. Not bad at all.

(Why am I writing so much fluff, Celine would be so disappointed at me lol)

[ridingtorohan]

Generic Headcanons for the Tulpar Crew!

‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist _ Join the taglist _ Ask box

Curly can't bowl. Absolutely can not. As coordinated as he is, this sport is absolutely not under his forte. Somehow, he gets all strikes or only one pin down.

Used to have a bubble blowing pipe as a kid. Still collects bubble blowers but doesn't really use them.

Sentimental in that he doesn't throw gifts away, even if he knows he won't use them. Has them neatly packed away in boxes

His hair is usually slightly frizzy and brushed on trips but back at home, he does the full oil, scrunch, curl routine, resulting in amazing curls

Prefers vanilla ice cream

Diagnosed insomniac. Sleeps like the dead when he does actually sleep; his heart rate slows down a lot so he actually scared a few roommates in the past

Hairy chest

Usually wears two shirts. After the crash, he's far more sensitive to temperature changes and bundles up, even if it's sweltering outside

Has a nasty scar on his knee from when he tripped as a kid. Didn't get stitches but probably should've

Listens to a mix of rock and foreign music, even when he doesn't know what they're saying

Wanted to be an astronaut but settled for becoming a pilot

Curly was an only child to a single mother. She had a serious disease that had him taking care of them both at a young age. He used the insurance money to become a pilot. She really believed in his dream.

Slightly colorblind (mixes up yellow and green) but by the time he's an adult he's able to tell the shades apart, so it didn't affect his pilot's course

Really enjoys raisin toast and cheese whiz.

A little forgetful. Usually keeps a notepad in his pocket or his keys on a long string

Can imitate accents really well, especially Southern drawls

Has English ancestry

Secretly terrified of the concept of the immortal snail

Daisuke sings horribly, but in such a charismatic way that somehow gets everyone joining in.

Does very bad puppetry, usually with socks. However, he's surprisingly good at miming.

He likes to draw!

He alternates between being the absolute boss at video games vs scoring almost nothing.

However! He's the absolute king at dance dance revolution and guitar hero.

Can't sit still for puzzles but surprisingly has a lot of fun with games like candy crush (and is really good at it)

Likes lemon hard candies

Pours whipped cream on anything. Bread? Whipped cream. Coffee? Whipped cream. Swansea had to kick that habit out of him

On that note: sweet tooth

Drools in his sleep and has the worst bedhead known to man

Has three sisters, all older and with set careers. He loves them a lot, despite feeling inadequate sometimes. He also has two moms!

Can't hold his liquor BUT surprisingly can never get drunk off of cold medicine

Watches a lot of thrillers, action and romcoms. Is always captivated by them (and cries a little when the couple gets together)

Quotes Mean Girls a lot

Was definitely a Disney kid. Belts into Lion King songs all the time (Swansea wants to strangle him)

Listens to screamo when he's tinkering with machines (usually with cars or where he can't readily change the songs)

Otherwise has a playlist that has songs from every genre. Never skips any of them.

Believes in sasquatch. Vehemently.

Tends to have bad luck with electronics, usually sparking himself somehow. His electronics usually have a lot of scuff marks and dented corners but surprisingly no cracked screens

Fluent in Spanish and passing in at least three other languages

Knows beauty routines better than most people do (including social media infleuncers)

Either has flawless skin or has a strict routine to prevent breakouts.

Definitely had a crush on Marty McFly poster in his bedroom. Still does.

Jimmy is, surprisingly, a good writer. He usually drops them only a few chapters in, but they're captivating and really enriched

Taps his foot a lot

Scrunches up his face when he's concentrating, often comically so

Absolutely hates black coffee but refuses to drink any other.

Says he hates the song that's playing but 9/10 he'll be nodding along to it. Absolutely despises Swansea and Anya's playlists

If the person he hates likes a song/movie/snack, he'll absolutely hate it. Even if he loved it before.

Sleeps with his arms crossed and head tipped back

Knows a lot about a bit of everything but in a weird way. Such as how to replace a car radio but not how to hot wire a car

Acts like the "tsundere" trope where he's mean if he likes someone

Prefers uniform clothing and goes for simple button ups otherwise

Somehow always finds himself at the receiving end of gossip. He knows all the tea but doesn't care enough to share it

Crazy skilled at board games, especially strategy and Monopoly. May or may not cheat. The absolute biggest sore loser

Mint or rocky road is his go-to ice cream snack. eats ice cream cones from the bottom up

Really good at visual puzzle solving. ("How many cubes are there?", mazes, etc)

Plays guitar and does it well. Favourite song to play is probably Country Roads

Hates the song Pumped Up Kicks. The school he used to go to before meeting Curly had way too many incidents to be comfortable.

Somehow, he does really well at baking those fancy deserts. Souffles, creme brulees, macarons, caramel, you name it. Probably would have made it as a chef somewhere

Always packs light and never keeps anything. Doesn't even have cards to the stores he frequents a lot.

Usually has a lighter or one of those "7 tools in 1" tool in his pocket.

Gets super bored with horror and nature documentaries. A fan of thriller and action though.

Somehow winds up with 57 pens in his drawers. He's never sure where they come from.

Likes to keep his facial hair short or with a shadow. It makes him feel unkempt if he goes longer.

He's more of a hands-on kind of guy, preferring to be outside in the fresh air instead of reading a book or watching TV.

Salted pretzels are his go-to snack.

Anya wears contacts (based on the soundtrack cover art)

Licks her finger before turning a page of the book and dog-ears to bookmark it

Always has ink smudges on her fingers. She never knows how it gets there

Twirls pens when she's lost in thought

She has a neutral resting face, so when she smiles or frowns, it crinkles a bit but you can always tell it's genuine

Never keeps her hair short; it always leaves her itchy. Closest she'll get is chin length

She's definitely a homebody

She doesn't often like switching hobbies but when she does, she focuses all her attention on it. However, it takes her a really long time to master it, leaving her discouraged.

Had difficulties in school.

All her books are filled with highlighted passages and writings in the margin

Tummy sleeper with her face smooshed in a pillow

Sleepwalks in a horrifying way. She'll stand at the foot of the bed and say cryptic things like, "He knows you're here" before walking away. Doesn't remember it the next day.

Prefers tea over coffee and dark chocolate

Doesn't really care for ice cream but likes freezies and Gelato

Prefers dogs over cats and loves labradors, even though she doesn't have the energy for them

Never could stomach the smell of puke or fecal matter

Doesn't know how to swim

Absolutely burns in the sun, no matter how much sun screen she uses.

She drives with audio books on, or while she's studying. Constant interruptions stress her out

Knows how to play the flute!

Has a few Russian lullabies memorized and knows the translations for them, though she doesn't know much Russian otherwise.

Mother died young, so it was her and her dad for a long time. She never felt like she lived up to his expectations.

Really close to her cousin growing up, who acted like an older sister to her.

Somehow, knows all the obscure lore about haunted locations and folklore. While she believes in ghosts, she doesn't believe in other entities.

Never swears. It's just not who she is.

Anya listens to a lot of indie and instrumental music.

She once had a pet parakeet named Timothy but gave it to her cousin when she tried to study for med school.

She has a music box, gifted to her by her mother before her passing. It's one of her prized possessions. Anya plays it before sleeping.

She likes to watch silent movies, black and white, and those that relate to her experiences in life.

Audrey Hepbern is consequently her favourite actress.

While most of her books are educational or self-help, she owns a few classics like Moby Dick and Pride & Prejudice.

Swansea knows how to crochet

He's a GOD at gambling. Everyone is sure that he's cheating, but it's honestly a lot of skill

While he doesn't know any other languages, he knows enough basic phrases to navigate in most foreign countries.

Very old in his ways (men must be gentlemen type thing) but progressive in others

Doesn't vote

Annoyed when Daisuke arrived in his floral shirt. Not because Daisuke skirted past the full uniform but because Swansea owns a lot of them (and oddly enough, many that match with Daisuke). So he never gets out of uniform

Can fall asleep anywhere

He's the fastest typer out of the Tulpar crew, second only to Daisuke

Still uses a Nokia phone though

Listens to podcasts or radio stations, but if he ever sits down for TV, it's usually dramas (think, SVU or Young & The Restless). Gets super invested in the soap dramas, even if he swears he doesn't or otherwise. He knows everyone's names and backstories off hand.

Gets grumpy if you turn off the show he's watching.

Tried growing a beard once. Never again

Keeps photos of his entire family in his wallet. Mother? There. Wife? There. Kids? There. His dentist? Somehow, there.

Never went to AA. He doesn't exactly deter people from drinking, but he'll outright shove people in chairs and take their car keys if they're too drunk to drive

Owns a really beat-up sports car. The upkeep is horrible, but it's what he got in the divorce, and he won't trade it for anything. Let Daisuke drive it exactly once (1)

Took wrestling and boxing in his youth! He gives a mean right hook. He still has the arm muscles from it

Absolutely cannot stand sticky, tacky items. Hates the feel of gum on his hands. Okay with chewing it.

Very efficient at multitasking! Even if it looks like he's focused on something, he notices things from his peripheral vision asap. Also weirdly attuned to Daisuke and just knows when he's grabbing something that he shouldn't

Scary good intuition about people.

Absolute king at barbecuing. Steak is his favourite food, especially accompanied with beer (he misses those days), roasted mini potatoes and garlic vegetables.

Makes the meanest stew and soup you've ever known. Throws the absolute wildest ingredients into the pot, but it comes out miraculous every time.

Adds salt and pepper to his meal anytime anyone else is cooking. Even if it was adequately seasoned

Knows how to ride a horse!

His part of the city isn't the best (high crime rate), but all the kids know his name and go to him whenever they need to escape from home or a warm meal. He doesn't know why they're so drawn to him, but something about Swansea makes them feel secure. It's put him in the good graces of the not-so-good folk and he's left well enough alone by them.

Definitely owns a shotgun and probably had to fend thieves away from his home prior to that though.

Definitely has Irish and Scottish ancestry. Maybe a bit of German.

[sherryrowen]

Slumbertale Sans!

Slumbertale is one of the first aus I saw when I joined the Undertale fandom, it’s very interesting and it’s Sans is one my favorite Sans variants out there!

I mean, look at him!! He has a cool galaxy nightgown and a bubble blowing pipe!! Granted, I took some liberties and changed and added a few little things in my fanart (namely the bubble blowing pipe design which seemed to be different in the comic), but it still looks great! All in all, I had a lot of fun doing this one, painting the galaxy in his nightgown was my favorite part of doing this fanart, although I had a lot fun just doing the whole thing!

And I just want to mention one little thing, the Papyrus in this AU is just SO ADORABLE!! I just wanna say his design is also my favorite Paps variant! Ya’ll have to check Slumbertale if haven’t already!

(Slumbertale Sans belongs to @rainingskeletons )

Also here’s a close up for the juicy details.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stars Align

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as age gap, manipulation, power imbalance, dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Steve Rogers was one of the biggest stars of Hollywood’s Golden Era. For years, his disappearance from the spotlight has been a mystery, that is until he walks right into your life. (Old Hollywood AU/1960s AU)

Characters: silverfox!Steve Rogers, reader is named 'Satyr' for clarity

Note: I enjoy older music and musicals. I tend to drift into this idea whenever I'm enjoying some and I finally said fuck it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

1965 

Satyr 

"Oh, Margie, can I get some of that lipstick?" The blonde with crystal blue eyes nudges the scarlet-headed vixen tracing her lips with a deep shade of crimson in the mirror crowded with women in sticking and short skirts. 

"You should've thought ahead, Carla," the redhead pops her lips. "We're friends up until that curtain opens." 

"Oh, boo. It's lipstick." 

"It's mine," the other woman retorts and slides the lid on the tube with a smug smirk. 

You overhear from the corner where you move your feet and try to recall the choreography. It's made more difficult with the cacophony of voices and the crush of bodies fogging the backstage with heat. Most are more concerned with the beading in their bodices or the curls across their brows. 

You didn't think of any of that. You spent your scarce savings on the bus ticket and kept the change to eat for the day. You look down at yourself, wondering if you've missed something important. The advert said 'dancers needed' for an open audition. It didn't say anything about sequins or eyeliner. 

The more you look around, the more it feels like a mistake. Your mother is right. It’s a pipe dream. You’ve spent all your money on coming to New York to embarrass yourself. 

But no! This is your one chance at Broadway! Broadway! You still can’t believe it. All your life you dreamt of being on a stage, and somewhere deep down, a screen. Even if the very idea makes your stomach bubble. The singing, the dancing, the stories... you wanted to bring that same fantasy to girls like you. 

There’s not much room on the silver screen for musicals anymore but the city is thriving. Or so you read in the magazines your mother calls rages. 

“One minute, ladies,” the stage manager calls from the edge of the curtain, “shoes.” 

The other women clamour, clicking and tapping around in their heels. You peek down and wiggle your toes in your soft-toed flats. They’re farm shoes. Scuffed from you dancing on the swept barn floor. 

You line up in order of the numbers pasted to your chests. The paper curls at the corner from your previous stomping and the crinkle is slightly agitating. You are made even shorter as you’re the only auditioner without at least a few extra inches under her heels. 

The stage manager blows a whistle and orders the first girl out, swirling his finger to herd you out like sheep. “Out, out, out. Line up. Don’t waste time.” 

As you go to pass the dour man and his tin whistle, he stretches his arm out and you bounce off of it. You step back into the woman behind you. She grunts in surprise. 

“You, where are your shoes?” 

“Sir? I have shoes--” 

“Heels,” he snaps his fingers in frustration, “those are not going on my stage. Take them off. Dance on your toes!” 

You blink and your lip trembles. You’re mortified. He grabs your arms and yanks you of the way. “You got ten seconds to get those off and get in line.” He lets you go and points the other woman out, once more barking the same sentiment. 

You don’t think. You just do. You tear off your flats and leave them forgotten on the floor. You slip in your stockings and stop again. You roll them down and kick them away, swiftly running out to find your place in line. 

The woman next to you with the flaxen blonde hair with straight-cut bangs mutters something and laughs. You don’t pay her any mind as you dig down to recall the choreography. You got this. If you can remember Ginger Rogers famous Swing Time masterpiece, you can get this. 

Judith, the black-haired, prim-lipped instructor who previously took you through the steps a grand total of once, comes to the front of the stage. The tin whistle blows and the chatter hushes. You peer between the bodies and see the panel of six sat along the front row. One of them must be the director, the rest you’re unsure. 

As Judith raises her hand in a silent count down from five, you remember to get on your toes. Your bare feet are frozen in the airy theatre. This is it. You’re about to dance for your life. 

As she closes her fist and the music begins to play from an old victrola, you fall into action. You elude the dancer next to you that goes to the left rather than the right and you focus on your posture. As you meld into the music, you disappear from the room and into your imaginary spotlight. You are back among the cattle and the sheep, watching you flail around in the moonlight. 

You are only brought back by the squeal of another. Further ahead, a dancer is on the floor. The stage manager blows the whistle and promptly orders her away. She gets up, limping as her shoe dangles from her ankle, and scurries with her face covered. 

You don’t stop. If you can ignore your father’s hammering and your mother’s hollering, you can get through this. Your eyes flick up as your body follows the recital in your head. There are two figures higher up, shrouded in shadow. You can’t make out more than their silhouettes. There sharp shoulders suggest two men, but why would they be sitting in on this? 

More are picked away from the crowd for missteps and trips and some every break into tears and run off of their own volition. The chaos adds to the beating of your heart but you can’t stop. Every penny you have depends on this. Your pride, not that it’s very much, is hanging from this fraying thread. 

As you continue along the progressions, one of the men in the back stands and his voice rolls through the music. The other remains and sits forward in his chair. The song plays on and your feet don’t stop. The steps feel more natural as the rows thin out around you. 

The victrola quiets as you hit the final step. You’re breathless but enlivened. The man in the back stands and follows the other’s departure at a calmer pace.

Judith begins her countdown and the manager shouts, “again!” 

Steve 

Steve Rogers follows the pin-striped tails of his companion down the back hall. It’s been a while since he’s been in a theatre. Yet, it isn’t his last visit that plays in his head. It’s those early days, when he was a spindly little stagehand, brushing wigs, fluffing capes, and moving scenery. Before simplicity was so damned depressing. 

Sam leads him along the back row as the stage stands empty ahead of them. His agent sits first before he can bring himself to do the same. It’s not just that creak in his knee, it’s the way it all feels so familiar but strange. It’s like going home and seeing a new family living in the same house you were raised in. 

“Looks like we missed the preliminaries,” Sam mutters. 

Steve puts his hands on his thighs as he pushes his shoulders wide. He squints. He can see the figures along the front row. Six of them; the usual, a director, the co-director, and the backers. He rubs his eyes as he tries to clear them and sighs. 

“Don’t say a word,” Steve grumbles as he feels around his jacket and dips his hand beneath. He slips the hard leather-bound case from his pocket and opens it on its tight hinges. He unfolds the glasses he only wears at the typewriter. 

Sam abides but not without a lingering look that makes him squirm. He’s already agitated. He’s not used to this yet. It should be like riding a bike, shouldn’t it? Ugh, this is a bad idea. 

“Relax,” Sam says, sensing his uneasiness. “This is day one, alright? No pressure. We don’t have to find nobody today. This is just... putting our toes in the pond. See what’s out there. This doesn’t work out, we can see how well Frank’s kid can dance. She’s cute.” 

“Sinatra? No way,” Steve growls. “I don’t want anyone famous. It’s the whole reason...” He trails off and shakes his head. 

“Well, keep in mind, these are amateurs. You’re not gonna find Hayworth here. Or anywhere, these days.” 

Steve glances over at his agent and sighs, “I was having dinner with Rita when you were still in diapers, kid,” he warns. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Sam waves him off as voices rise behind the curtain. “Looks like things are about to get interesting.” 

Steve plants his elbow on the narrow armrest and shifts in the seat. He doesn’t remember them being so uncomfortable. He remembers sitting in them for hours; for premiers, for awards shows, just for the hell of it. 

His chest flickers. He hasn’t felt that since the first time he faced a camera. It was different then. Things were still black and white. If Fred’s still got it, he must too. 

Why is he doing this? Why couldn’t he just stay in that house and be, not happy, but alone. Unbothered. Why now? Why did the itch start until his skin felt ready to split? He’s gotta try. He’s Steve Damn Rogers and he always gets back, it just took a little longer this time. 

A whistle blows and he crinkles his face. Ugh, the noise. That will be the hardest to get used to. When did he get so boring? Maybe when fun turned out to be so painful. 

Women flow out in rows. They arrange themselves along the stage as a woman stands at the front with a black blunt haircut. She watches them fan over the space. There’s a pause before another follows the third line back. Then another skitters out with no shoes and inserts herself into the empty space left between the previous dancers. 

He rests his chin on his fist curiously. He doesn’t miss the disarray that much. He remembers being behind those curtains and watching the hopefuls run off in tears. Sometimes, they took his handkerchief, other times they ran right past him. 

Why are those times easier to remember? Why do the shining ones, the ones in bright Hollywood lights, not excite him? No, no, don’t think of that. It’s not gonna be that way this time. This time, it’s his rules. His script, his movie. 

The music begins and his focus on the dozens of dancers. There’s almost too many to keep track of. Yet his eyes come back to that third row. The girl dancing on her toes in bare feat. She moves like silk or satin in the wind. So effortless. Yet everything else about her doesn’t belong. The way she moves is how one should onstage, but her beige dress and plain hair do nothing to make her stand out. 

A woman near the front trips and lands on her knees. She cries out as she’s ushered off. His eyes flit back to that girl with no shoes. She doesn’t even wince. 

“Ah, this is a wash,” Sam grumbles. “Look at them, a bunch of nobodies. Can’t even stay on tempo.” 

“How would you know?” Steve mutters back. 

“I got an eye for this stuff, don’t I? I represent the greatest actor in the world.” 

“Funny,” Steve drawls dryly. 

“I need a smoke. Let me know if anything interesting happens.” Sam stands and struts out. 

Steve remains. He pushes his glasses closer to his eyes as he leans forward. The women fade, all but one, that one. The one in the bare feet. It’s like she’s in another world. As he watches her, he feels liek he is too. 

The music stops. Her final pose is perfect. On beat, posture good, sharp. He rolls his tongue around. This could work. It could. He doesn’t need another... well, don’t worry about her. He needs someone to mold but not without substance. She can dance, that’s all he needs. The rest can be learned. 

He stands with one last look and leaves, his feet weighed down as the music begins again. He stops in the hallway behind the theatre and faces the door. He could sit and watch her for hours. No, he needs to get Sam. They’re not doing this again. He knows it’s her. It has to be. He doesn’t feel so... itchy. 

[soulofapatrick]

Broken Showers Aren't All Bad - Alec Lightwood x female reader

Summary: You use Alec's shower as yours is broken

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

As I stumble back to the institute, my muscles aching and my clothes stained with sweat and demon ichor, I can’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. The fight against the shax demons had been relentless, each blow and dodge taking its toll on my body and spirit. 

Dragging myself to my room, I’m grateful for the ensuite bathroom, the promise of a hot shower offering a small sliver of comfort amidst the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us. But as I step into the shower and turn on the water, my relief quickly turns to frustration as the pipes splutter and the flow of water comes to an abrupt halt, leaving me standing there in disbelief.

With a groan of frustration, I pound my fist against the tiled wall, feeling a surge of pent-up anger and exhaustion bubbling to the surface. It's the last straw in a long line of setbacks and challenges, and I can't help but feel like I'm at the end of my rope. They said they had fixed my shower earlier today but it’s still fucked.

Desperate for a solution, I run through a mental checklist of every member of our group, trying to determine who might be willing to let me use their shower. Clary and Jace are out of the question—they're probably lost in each other's embrace, lost in their own world of love and passion. And Izzy, well, she doesn't know the meaning of privacy, likely to barge in without warning at any given moment.

That leaves Alec—the one person in our group who values his privacy above all else. It's a long shot, but I'm left with no other choice, especially as he’s out on a mission currently. 

As I tiptoe through the dimly lit corridors of the Institute, my heart races with anticipation and a tinge of nervousness. I know I shouldn't be doing this, sneaking into Alec's room while he's away on a mission, but my own shower has been malfunctioning for days, and I can't stand the thought of going another day feeling unkempt.

The door to Alec's room creaks softly as I push it open, praying that no one hears. Stepping inside, I quickly make my way to the bathroom, feeling a rush of relief wash over me as I shut the door behind me. The warm steam soon envelops me as I strip off my clothes and throw my towel aside, longing for the hot water. 

As I step into Alec's shower, the warmth envelops me like a comforting embrace, easing the tension that had been coiled tightly in my muscles. The steam fills the small space, wrapping around me like a gentle cloud, washing away the lingering remnants of fear and adrenaline from the encounter with the shax demons.

I close my eyes, letting the water cascade over me, each droplet a soothing caress against my skin. The scent of Alec's shampoo and soap fills the air, a familiar and comforting aroma that helps to ground me in the present moment.

With each passing second, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by a sense of relaxation and relief. The hot water works its magic, easing the ache in my limbs and soothing the bruises that litter my body from the fight. 

I tilt my head back, letting the water cascade over my face, feeling the weight of the day's events slowly lift from my shoulders. In this moment, there is nothing but the sensation of warmth and cleanliness, a temporary reprieve from the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us. 

As I stand under the warm cascade of water in Alec's shower, a sense of tranquility washes over me, momentarily banishing the worries and fears that had plagued me earlier. But as the sound of footsteps approaches the door, my heart lurches in my chest, and panic sets in like a suffocating wave.

Alec’s footsteps are unmistakable—steady and purposeful, devoid of the usual warmth or joviality. My mind races with the worst-case scenarios, imagining his stern expression and sharp reprimands as he discovered me here, intruding upon his private space and using his stuff. 

With trembling hands, I reach for the shower curtain, hastily pulling it closed around me as if it could shield me from the impending confrontation. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the steamy air feeling suddenly stifling as I await Alec's inevitable discovery.

The moment the bathroom door creaks open, my heart feels as though it’s lodged in my throat, and I shrink back against the tiled wall, desperately trying to make myself as small as possible on instinct. Through the opaque curtain, I can vaguely make out Alec’s silhouette, his presence looming like an impending storm. 

“Who’s there?” His voice pierces through the heavy silence, sharp and authoritative, sending a shiver down my spine. 

I swallow hard, my throat feeling dry and constricted. "It's me," I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper, my words muffled by the fabric of the curtain. 

Alec’s footsteps draw nearer, and I can feel the weight of his gaze boring into me, even through the barrier of the shower curtain. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, bracing for the inevitable backlash of his discovery. 

“What are you doing here?" His voice carries a note of incredulity, mixed with a hint of confusion.

I bite my lip, my mind scrambling for an explanation, any excuse that could possibly justify my presence here. "My shower... it's broken," I stammer out, my words coming out in a rushed tumble, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

There’s a moment of tense silence, broken only by the sound of water cascading from the showerhead. I brace myself for Alec's anger, fully expecting a sharp rebuke for my audacity. 

But, to my surprise, when Alec finally speaks, his voice carries a note of understanding, his tone softer than I had anticipated. "Well, I suppose you can finish up here," he says, his words tinged with a hint of amusement.

Relief floods through me like a tidal wave, and I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly begin to ebb away. 

As I finish my shower, hastily drying off with a fluffy towel, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as I realise my oversight—I forgot to bring clean clothes with me. With a frustrated sigh, I wrap the towel tightly around my body, hoping it provides at least some semblance of modesty as I prepare to face the inevitable embarrassment of leaving Alec's bathroom in just my towel.

Steeling myself for the inevitable, I take a deep breath and push open the bathroom door, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I step into the room beyond. My eyes dart nervously around the familiar surroundings, searching for any sign of Alec's presence.

And then,  I see him—standing by the window, his back turned to me, his gaze focused intently on something outside. Relief floods through me at the sight, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the awkwardness of the situation.

But as if sensing my presence, Alec turns, his eyes widening in surprise as they travel the length of my body, lingering for a moment longer than is strictly necessary. A flush of crimson creeps into his cheeks, and he quickly averts his gaze, clearing his throat in a feeble attempt to disguise his embarrassment. "Uh, sorry," he mumbles, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes fixed resolutely on the floor. "I didn't realise you were... uh... here.”

I swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to my own cheeks as I struggle to find the right words to break the awkward silence that hangs between us. "I, uh... forgot to bring clean clothes," I mumble sheepishly, feeling like a fool for my forgetfulness.

Alec nods awkwardly, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "Right," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, um... I can, uh, go get you something to wear... if you want.”

Instead of leaving the room to head to mine he moves to his chest of drawers, searching for something for me to wear. I feel a mix of gratitude and nervous anticipation, never expecting Alec to share his clothes with me let alone his shower. When he returns with a black t-shirt in hand, I accept it with a grateful smile, clutching it tightly against my chest as I wait for him to realise that he needs to turn away.

For a moment, Alec seems to falter, his gaze lingering on me expectantly until the realisation dawns on him. With a slight cough, he quickly averts his eyes, turning away to give me the privacy I need to pull the shirt over my head. As I slide the shirt on, I'm struck by how it drapes loosely over my frame, reaching down to mid-thigh and resembling more of a short dress than a typical t-shirt. The fabric is soft against my skin, imbued with Alec's scent, a comforting reminder of his presence.

When Alec finally turns back around, his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of me in his shirt, his gaze lingering on the way it hugs my curves and falls to the length of my thighs. A faint blush creeps into his cheeks once again, but this time, there's a hint of something else in his expression—a mixture of admiration and something deeper, more intimate.

"You, uh, look good in that," he stammers out, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes flickering uncertainly as they meet mine.

I can't help but smile at his awkward attempt at a compliment, feeling a warmth spread through me at the genuine sincerity in his words. "Thanks," I reply softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach at the realisation that Alec's gaze lingers on me a moment longer than necessary, his eyes filled with a warmth that sends a shiver down my spine.

As I stand there in Alec's room, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, I can't shake the feeling of reluctance that settles in the pit of my stomach. Despite the lingering warmth of Alec's gaze and the newfound connection between us, I know that I can't stay here forever.

With a soft sigh, I muster up the courage to break the silence, clearing my throat awkwardly as I glance towards the door. "I should probably get back to my room," I say softly, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

Alec nods in understanding, his expression unreadable as he steps aside to let me pass. "Yeah, of course," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

As I make my way towards the door, a pang of regret washes over me, aching in my chest like a physical weight. Part of me had hoped that Alec would stop me from leaving, that he would reach out and pull me back into his embrace, unwilling to let me go.

But as I glance back over my shoulder, Alec's expression remains stoic and unreadable, his gaze fixed resolutely on the floor. With a heavy heart, I push open the door and step out into the hallway, the sound of it closing behind me echoing in the silence.

As I return to my room, the echoes of Alec's presence still lingering in my mind, I quickly slip on a pair of panties before reaching for the black t-shirt he lent me. With a momentary pang of guilt, I peel off the shirt, feeling a sense of loss as I momentarily remove the comforting fabric from my skin.

But the need for cleanliness overrides my reluctance, and I hastily pull on a clean bra before slipping Alec's shirt back over my head, the familiar fabric enveloping me once again in its warmth. Bringing the collar to my nose, I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of Alec that lingers there, a mixture of soap and sweat and something uniquely him.

Lost in the comforting embrace of Alec's shirt, I'm startled by a sudden knock at my door, the sound jolting me back to reality. Swinging the door open, expecting to see Izzy, my breath catches in my throat as it’s Alec standing there instead. His expression is wrought with anxiety and before I can even utter a word of inquiry, he closes the gap between us in two swift strides, his hands reaching out to cup my face in a surprisingly gentle yet urgent grip. 

The world seems to tilt on its axis as Alec's lips crash against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs and sending my heart into a frenzied rhythm. His kiss is passionate and breathless, a whirlwind of emotions and desires unleashed in a single moment of raw vulnerability. 

I'm momentarily stunned, my mind struggling to catch up with the sudden turn of events. But as Alec's lips move fervently against mine, a surge of warmth floods through me, melting away any doubts or reservations I may have had.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer, losing myself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch. His hands are rough and calloused against my skin, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips as they trail a fiery path along my jawline and down my neck.

In that moment, there is nothing else but Alec and me, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of passion and longing. The world outside fades away, replaced by the electric intensity of our connection as we become entangled in each other's embrace.

And as Alec finally pulls away, his chest heaving with exertion, I'm left breathless and exhilarated, a million thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind. “Do it again,” I s all I can breathe, Alec’s response immediate and impassioned. With a hunger that matches my own, he presses me against the nearest wall, his lips claiming mine with a fervour that leaves me dizzy with desire. In that moment, it feels as though we're the only two people in the world, lost in the intensity of our connection.

His hand finds its way to my bare thigh beneath his shirt, hitching my leg around his waist, pulling me impossibly closer as if he can't bear to be apart from me even for a moment longer. The sensation of his touch sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. Every caress, every kiss feels like an affirmation of the bond between us, a silent promise of things to come.

But our stolen moment of passion is abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. Reluctantly, we break apart, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we turn to find Izzy standing in the doorway of my room, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Welllllll" she says, her voice laced with amusement. “Sorry to interrupt this but I need to steal Y/N,” she adds with a wink, "you two can continue this later. Preferably with the bedroom door closed this time.”

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position, burying my face in Alec’s shirt who's gaze remains unwavering as he meets Izzy's teasing grin with a smirk of his own.

“Later Izzy," he replies smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “10 more minutes.”

With that Izzy snorts and closes the door on her way out, a fond smile on her face and Alec pulling me into his arms, a hug that has me nuzzling into the crook of his neck not sure what this is between us. 

“I never thought I’d be happy about a broken shower.” 

“Me neither.”

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

[underratedgrapeju1ce]

found out walters pipe actually blows bubbles and i almost burst into real actual tears i love him so much

[zedleaked]

OVERTHINKER THOUGHTS AND SCRIBBLES

HAD SOME DIALOGUE TOO FOR A HYPOTHETICAL FIGHT [I'VE ONLY DONE TWO SCENES] WHICH I'LL PUT UNDER THIS CUT HERE [IT IS LONG]

Opening Cutscene

Distant chatter from Prethinker and the Desk Jockey’s can be heard as the camera slowly zooms out from a blackboard that says “Warning: The Following Instance is Not Canon.”

Prethinker can be seen with Professor Pete (Toontown Schoolhouse guy) tied up in a chair.

Prethinker: I do not appreciate you and the Toon resistance trying to put an end to my plans.

Consider this payback for making my life more difficult!

I’ll still be taking these freebie Desk Jockeys for personal use, since you won't be needing them anymore now that you’re here!

Now where was I…?

Ah yes, I remember now.

Prethinker walks over to the blackboard and rubs out whatever was written on it, starting to doodle something on the board.

You see, the plan is simple.

Prethinker takes out one of those pointer sticks and taps the blackboard with it, which has an illustration of Buck and Dave forming High Roller.

I’ve been studying the art of Cog-fusion. A fascinating phenomenon that was showcased by Mr. Ruffler and Mr. Brubot a year ago.

How they achieved such a thing is still beyond my grasp, however the potential of fusion is nothing to scoff at.

Prethinker draws a doodle of himself on the board next to a plus symbol and a question mark.

If we combine the right Suits together, we could achieve something truly unstoppable for those Toons!

That’s where you Brianbots come in.

You will find me the perfect candidates to experiment with! A willing Suit won't come to me on a silver platter you know?

A quack could be heard which causes Prethinker to perk up.

…What was that noise?

The quacks grow louder until Duck Shuffler crashes through the wall Kool-aid man style. He rushes through the Desk Jockeys, causing them to tumble over like dominos.

Duck Shuffler: FRHIRFIUHRIWHFR!!!

The Desk Jockeys blow up, making that one Deltarune explosion noise as Duck Shuffler gets up from the ground.

WOWIE! Thith theemth familiar!

Prethinker looks at him outraged, his brain turning red.

Prethinker: YOU! What are YOU doing here?

That stunt you just pulled involving plowing through the wall was against every single law of physics!

Duck Shuffler: Lawth are merely thuggethtionth methinkth.

Prethinker: They are not suggestions! A law is a set of rules that are created and are enforceable by social or governmental institutions to regulate beha- (Wikipedia definition for law: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Law)

Duck Shuffler stands in front of Prethinker’s speech bubble.

Duck Shuffler: Geeth! Quit your yammerin’, you’re boring me here!

It’th not like you’re a goodie two thhoeth anywayth, what ya did to me was thhurely againtht the law!

Prethinker: We do not talk about that, Ruffler.

Duck Shuffler: Oh yeah, whaddya gonna do about it?

Duck Shuffler steps in close, looking down at the Prethinker.

The Prethinker shoves Duck Shuffler, making him stumble a little.

The Duck Shuffler shoves him back which causes them to keep hitting each other until they get into a cartoony fight ball.

The two of them collide with the wall where the blackboard is, causing a giant explosion and a flash of light. A distant metal pipe noise could be heard.

The smoke from the explosion clears up as it reveals Overthinker.

Overthinker: WHERE- WHERE AM I?

{You dolt! What did you do now-}

The Toons finally intervene as they approach the Overthinker.

T-{T-} T-TOONPH!!!

{Hm, thiph could me phalvaged-}

YOU THERE!!! YOU COULD {Did I jupht liphp-?} HELP ME OUT HERE! HELP ME! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

The room seems to start getting cloaked in a purple hue as weird smoke starts to form from Overthinker’s chemical explosion.

[Phase 1 of the battle starts.]

Second Cutscene

Overthinker: YYYYEOWCH!!!!

Overthinker reels back from whatever the last attack used on him was.

You guyph really pack a punch! What’ph the d-d-deal with THAT???

I’m feeling- I’M FEELING, {phick} YOU’RE- You’ve knocked the BRAINPH OUTTA ME!!!

Overthinker starts to shake uncontrollably.

THIPH EXPERIMENT WAPH A- WAPH A- {Failure!} FAILURE!!!!!!! I’M A FAILURE!!!!!!!!!

There’s a big explosion as Overthinker unfuses into Duck Shuffler and Prethinker again. The camera pans down to see the both of them in the Yamcha and Family guy death pose respectively.

The two of them get up from the ground.

Prethinker: Grr! Buck, this is all your fault! We could’ve beat them if you didn’t keep mixing unfamiliar chemicals together!

Duck Shuffler: Aww! But that wouldn’t be tho fun-

Prethinker: This isn’t about fun! This is about winning! You like winning don’t you?

The Toons take a step closer to the two of them

Duck Shuffler: Aww, ratth! We forgot about them-

Prethinker: Fret not- I have this covered.

Prethinker snaps his fingers as he summons a few Desk Jockeys to cover for them.

Prethinker: This won't hold them back for long, but we have to cooperate here-

Duck Shuffler: Oh tho now you wanna work together, huh?

Prethinker: This isn’t the time for snide remarks, you know all about this fusion thing, right? Just do what you do with Brubot or something!

Duck Shuffler: I only mingle well with Dave becauthe he doeth hith part.

You gotta do your part too, pal! Tho let me lead next time!

Prethinker: …Hmph! Fine. I’ll do as you say, but only so we can win!

Duck Shuffler picks Prethinker up and hoists him onto his shoulders.

Duck Shuffler: HAHA! Then let’th get thith thhow in the road!

[Phase 2 of the battle starts, the Toons fighting the Desk Jockeys and Duck Shuffler and Prethinker separated.]

[the-kr8tor]

Baby's breath for Hobie with ❣️ who's taking the twins for a playdate with Charlotte and Max. Maybe plays with the children himself aswell:3

AHHHHH so adorable! Thank you for requesting! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.1 k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, cw food mention, FLUFF

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

“This place is terrible! I want to see the manager!” Hobie's clear acting voice makes you laugh while you take out the freshly baked cookies from the oven. His feigned anger is followed by childish giggling, four sets of happy kids playing along Hobie's antics.

The whole house smells of cookies, sweetness wafting from the kitchen to the living room where the twins' toys are scattered along the carpet to play and share with their newfound friends.

“Mummy's in the kitchen!” The unmistakable voice of Billie pipes up from the bout of laughter. “She's busy!”

You decide to leave the tray out to cool, opting to peek behind the door to watch Billie and Mona play with Charlotte and baby Max, who looks so tiny on Hobie's lap while his big brown eyes watch on as he holds onto Mona's Gromit plushie. There's a toy cashier in between Hobie and the girls, complete with plastic plates and utensils in front of Hobie. A toy kitchen stands behind the twins, towering over them in all its non-toxic colourful plastic.

Charlotte, looking absolutely adorable in her overalls and pink flower blouse (who's a year and a half younger than your girls,) whispers into Mona's ear. She doesn't quite understand the concept of whispering just yet, so you can clearly hear her question.

“What's a man-ager?”

Mona answers quickly, “someone who is the boss of a place.”

“So your mommy is the boss?” Mona nods, Billie paused her ‘argument’ with her dad to agree enthusiastically. Charlotte's eyes light up, “My mommy is the man-ager too then!”

You choke on air when you heard her adorable voice. Hand covering your laughter, Hobie catches your eyes with a look and a pout that says ‘help me out here.’ You shake your head with a grin, he mouths a ‘please’ and you instantly surrender especially when he flutters his long lashes at you. He knows the effect it has on you, and that's why you have Billie and Ramona.

Popping out of the doorway, you pretend to play the part, you look like it too with your frilly apron. “What seems to be the problem?” Sitting next to Billie, she gives you a nod while her arms are crossed over her chest, butterfly clips moving along her nodding head. Her sister follows right after with the same arms over the chest move, with a pout similar to her dad, her right sock mysteriously missing from her foot.

Charlotte looks over the two before copying their movements. You wish you had a camera with you to capture the adorable moment. Max gurgles, giggling at the toy in his tiny fists. You can see that Hobie's struggling not to laugh at the four of you. You look too serious, while the girls are narrowing their eyes at the ‘annoying customer’ in front of them.

“Your employees burnt my soup.” He gives the trio a faked hard look, making each of the girls snort. “I never thought soup could get so clumpy, love— Ms manager.” With a calculated cough, he corrects himself to continue the bit.

“That's all?” You raise a brow, and you can see the three girls in your peripheral copy your expression one by one. Hobie tamps down a laugh.

“‘That’s all?’” Hobie bounces Max in his hold, the baby blows snot bubbles in return. “My mate and I came all the way from Wales to try your world famous soup and what do we get? A clump of soup that looks like oatmeal!”

You nod like you're actually a manager hearing complaints. “Can I see the soup, girls?”

“Wha–mum!” Mona protests.

“I just want to see it, Cheese—I mean Ms Brown.” You put your hands on your hips, acting but you still want to keep your girls on their toes. You still remember the last time they made ‘soup,’ their play kitchen set smelled of your lavender lotion for weeks.

Charlotte can't help but giggle at that. “She called you ‘Ms Brown!’”

“That's our last name, Char.” Billie says, handing you the bowl of ‘soup.’ The soup is actually a bunch of ripped paper soaking in water.

“Oh! I thought it was punk.”

“Punk?” Hobie breaks character as you ‘inspect’ the bowl of so-called soup. Before he could elaborate on his question, you poke the ‘soup.’

“Yeah, I don't see the problem.”

“I told you!” Billie cackles while her sister claps slowly. You blame all the movie nights where it's Hobie's turn to pick. Charlotte giggles, taking the bowl to place it in front of Hobie.

He looks at you with a soft smile, winking briefly at you, foot nudging your own. “‘m not paying for clumpy soup.” Taking Max in his hold, he happily reaches out to you, kicking about on his tiny legs and feet. “And neither is my mate! We're takin’ our money somewhere else!”

The twins have reached their role play limit, guffawing at their dad's ‘angry’ words, Max's expression makes them break. While Charlotte is in hysterics on the floor.

You coo at Max, grabbing him and taking him into your arms. The baby smiles, making grabby hands at the silver necklace Hobie gifted to you just after the girls were born. “Well, your friend here doesn't look like he wants to leave.”

Hobie lounges on the floor, arm propping him up, cheek pressed atop his shoulder. He sighs dramatically, giving each girl a defeated look. “I never thought I'd be betrayed by an eight month old.” Billie laughs on the floor while Mona has managed to latch onto you, hiding her giggles against your bicep. “I don't blame him, he has taste.”

You playfully kick Hobie, earning a genuine smile from him. “If our soup is not up to par with your tastes, maybe our cookies will.”

Mona gasps next to you, Billie and Charlotte rise up from the floor, eyes wide and sparkling. “Cookies!” They all exclaim at the same time, tones excited and high.

“Chocolate chip?” Mona asks, shaking you slightly. Max sits on your lap unbothered, eating his own fingers.

“Of course, Mon-mon.” And with that, they're off scampering towards the kitchen.

“Your employees have no manners.” Hobie stands up before lending you a hand. He effortlessly yanks you up carefully, Max lays in your arms, looking up between your face and Hobie's.

“Maybe I should cut their pay.” You joke.

“The union won't like that, love.” Hobie presses his lips on your temple, letting his warmth linger on you.

“I guess the fine wouldn't be worth it.” You chuckle, sighing by his side. Gazing at Max, you bounce him gently, earning a three toothed smile from him. “He's so cute,” index brushing along his chubby cheek, baby Max grabs your finger, hugging it to his side. “Aww look at him.”

“You want one?” A smirk slowly curls around Hobie's lips, hand cupping your elbow as he leads you into the kitchen where the girls are patiently watching over the cooled tray.

“Careful, you said that when we babysat Mayday before we had the girls.”

“You said yes though.” With a smug laugh, he pecks your forehead one more time before helping the girls with their snacks.

[jinxedbychaos]

Echoes of Insanity Ch. 2

Bound by Chaos

No summary as I'm not good with those

Jinx (Powder) x Twin sister

Past-

Playing by the canals of Zaun, I chase after Powder, her laughter coming out as she zigzag around me, trying to stay just out of reach. The clouded water glistens in the dull light, the distant sound of Zaun's factories a familiar sound in our daily lives. Vi sits on a rock nearby, her eyes never leaving us, a small smile on her face as she observes.

vi's in charge while our parents are at work, and even though she tries to put a tough front, she cares about keeping us safe.

Suddenly, Powder darts behind me, determined to catch up to me. I try to run faster, but my foot catches on a rock hidden in the dirt. making me fall to the ground. pain stings through my knees as I land hard, scraping them raw. tears start to fall off my eyes, and I can't help but let out a chocked sob.

Powder gasps, immediately scared that she might have hurt me. "Ash! I-I didn't mean to, I was just tryin to catch you!" She speaks in a shaky, panicked voice.

Vi already besides us "It's okay, Pow. Accidents happen" Vi says, glancing at her, then back at me with a reassuring smile. "besides some scraped knees wont stop Ash, right Ash?"

you sniffle, wiping away the tears and nodding slowly. Vi grabs a piece of tissue out of her pocket an gently starts cleaning the blood off my knees. She leans in blowing some air on the scrapes like our mom does when we get hurt. "See? all better".

Powder shuffles closer, still looking guilty. She reaches for my hand, her lip quivering. "I'm sorry, Asha. I didn't mean to…" Her eyes shiny with unshed tears, and i can see how guilty she feels.

i squeeze her hand, giving her a small, watery smile. "I-it's okay , powder" I mumble, trying to reassure her. feeling a little more steady now that Vi's taken care of me.

Vi stands and offers her hand to us. "come on, why don't we go home. I'll teach you a new game on the way" she says with a smile, her tone light, trying to lift our spirits.

I grab her hand, already feeling the excitement bubbling inside me at the thought of learning something new from Vi, Powder clings to the other hand.

The scrape on my knee long forgotten, as I follow my sisters, even in the bad times, being together makes everything feel just right again. Vi squeezes our hands, pulling us gently along, and I can't help but feel safe and loved, all the pain fading away under the warmth of their presence.

---------------

Present-

Vi uncovers a large garbage pipe hidden in the ground and quickly scans the area for enforcers.

"Oh, man, not again! I just got this shirt-" Mylo whines, but he's cut off as Vi shoves him into the pipe with a swif kick. Claggor follows, then Powder and me, with Vi coming last.

We slide through the dirty, narrow pipe, letting out startled yelps as we descend. At the end, we tumble into a pile of garbage in an underground disposal area.

"Thought last time was the last time we were gonna do this." Mylo grumbles, pulling a piece of trash out of his hair.

"Well, this time's the last time." Vi replies

"Guys, what was that? What the hell happened back there?" Claggor ask, still looking a bit shaken.

everyone suddenly turn to face powder and me. surprised by the accusation, we both try to defend ourselves.

"We didn't do anything!" Powder blurts out. "We didn't touch anything!" I quickly add.

"you could fill a damn library with all the things you didn't do" Mylo snaps, glaring at us.

Just as I'm about to fire back, Vi cuts in.

"Guys, we just emptied a Piltover penthouse right under the enforcers' noses" She climb out the pile of garbage "so, if you're done beating yourselves up, let's get this home"

We walk thtough the dimly lit disposal area until we find a trapdoor in the ceiling Vi drags some boxes with the help of Claggor an climb up, pushing the door open. she helps Powder and me out first, Then follows.

We step out onto the streets of Zaun, unaware of the two boys following us. As we pass by a boy casually rolling a barrel back and forth with his foot, he smirks. "nice haul?" he asks.

"you could say that" Mylo replies, looking smug.

Vi shoot Mylo a disapproving glare.

"I heard there was some action across the river" the boy continues, flipping a coin between his fingers.

"is that so?" Vi replies, about to move on, but two boys suddenly appear in front of us, blocking the way.

"But now you're, you're tracking this mess of yours through my streets." the boy says

"your streets? what makes you think-" Vi starts to snap, but Claggor quickly interrupts

"listen, we don't want any trouble, okay?" Claggor says, trying to defuse the situation.

One of the boys smirks "hear that, Deckard? They don't want any trouble."

"you know, in my experience trouble finds you" Deckard say, signaling toward Vi. "There's no reason this has to get ugly. How about you share a little taste of your treasure there, and we'll call it even?"

"No, no, no We worked to hard to-" Mylo starts, but Vi cuts him off, placing a hand on his shoulder before stepping forward to face Deckard.

Taking the bag off her shoulder, Vi asks "just a taste?"

"just a taste-" Deckard begins, but before he can finish, Vi swing the bag into his face, knocking him to the ground.

I jump, startled, and I can feel Powder do the same. suddenly, Vi tosses the bag at us, Powder grabbing it.

"huh" Mylo and Claggor grunt in unison, snapping into action and getting ready to fight.

Deckard groans and pushes himself up, his expression turning fierce. one of his friends rushes to Mylo, shoving him to the ground and starts landing punches.

Powder and I watch in shock, taking a few steps back, trying to distance ourselves from the chaos.

Claggor quickly moves in, shoving the boy off Mylo, but on the other side, deckard lunges at Vi, throwing wild punches. She fights back, each hit landing with brutal force.

Powder and I stand frozen, watching in horror as the fight unfolds. I see Powder fall to the ground, sitting back in fear.

Claggor punches one of the man in the face, throwing him back. he crashes to the ground right in front of us, his eyes locking onto ours and then the bag. Panic floods through me, and I grab Powder's arm "Run" I shout. Powders puts the bag around her and we run down an alley, the thug chasing after us.

back in the street, Vi, Claggor and Mylo are still fighting. unaware that we've taken off. Vi manages to knock Deckard to the ground, while Claggor is shoved against a wall. He grabs a handful of dirt and throws it to the face of the thug. The boy stumbles, and Claggor takes the opportunity to bring him down.

Meanwhile, Mylo is struggling beneath another thug, taking punch after punch. Vi rushes to his aid, grabbing a wooden plank and smashing it over the guy's head, knocking him out cold. the three of them stand, bruised but victorious, ready to leave the scene.

As they begin to walk away, Deckard, clutching his side, stumbles to his feet and pulls out a knife. "wait!" he says in pain.

Vi turns around, stepping closer to him. she leans down, staring him dead in the eyes. "wanna se how that ends?" she asks, her voice low and dangerous.

Deckard meets her gaze but says nothing, staggering back as he decides against pushing further.

Vi straightens up and glances around, realizing something "Where's Powder and Ash?" she asks her voice tense.

Meanwhile, Powder and I sprint through the narrow alley, not daring to look back, our breath coming in ragged gasps as we keep running, fear driving us forward.

We threw some crates in the way, desperately trying to slow the boy chasing us. "Oh! You little…" he grunted as he stumbled but kept running.

We darted through the cluttered alley, our breath heavy and frantic. When we reached a dead end blocked by boxes, we quickly hide behind a wall, trying to quiet our panting. Powder clutched the bag tightly, just we it seems like the boy might turn the other way. we accidentally knocked over a wooden plank.

"No, no, no, no!" I whispered, trying to grab the plank before it fell but it hit the ground with a loud bang.

Making the boy tur toward the noise.

Panic flooded me as I searched for any scape. Powder, clutching Mouser, quickly started loading it with nails, her hand shaking. A few nails falling to the ground. "Come on, Mouser, I need you!" she whispered urgently, her voice trembling.

I glance back at her, heart pounding, as she throws Mouser toward the boy's feet. We both held our breath, watching, hopping for a miracle. The parts turning and clicking together… then pink smoke burst out with a small pop.

disbelief crossing our face as the makeshift bomb failed. The boy smirked and started walking toward us, his eyes locked onto the bag.

We back away scared, our backs hitting the railing. In a split second decision, I unclipped the bag from Powder and I throw it into the river, the boy goes to grab it but fails and watches as the bag sinks.

As the boy is distracted, I grab my sister's hand and we bolted, weaving through the alleys, running as fast as we could until we finally reached the meeting spot. Vi, Claggor and Mylo were already waiting for us.

"Powder! Ash!" Vi called out when she saw us, and we ran straight to into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Where's the bag?" Mylo ask, looking around, concern quickly filling his face as he realized it wasn't with us. Vi glanced at us too, frowning.

Still catching my breath, I stutter "He… he was following us" "He was going to catch us." Powder ads.

"I-i threw it into the river." i say with guilt.

"You did what?!" Mylo yelled, his frustration boiling over.

"we're sorry" Powder and I say in unison, both of us felling the weight of our mistake. Powder looked down, her voice small as she speaks "I tried to stop him with Mouser, but… it didn't work."

"Who saw that coming?" Mylo shots back, putting his arm up.

"doesn't matter. The stuff's gone" Vi interrupted "at least least you two are okay" she said softly, putting a hand on our shoulders.

Vi walks over to the building's door and pushes it open.

"Okay? what about us?" Mylo complained. "I get my face bashed in, and the just get a pass?" He continues as well all stepped inside.

"yup" Vi replies flatly, closing the door behind us.

We crowded into the old elevator. Vi lowered the lever, turning the flickering lights on as we began our descent into the Undercity.

Powder and I leaned against the railing, the weight of guilt heavy on our shoulders. Mylo still fuming.

"Every time" Mylo grumbled, glaring at us "Every time they come, something goes wrong." he pointed at our direction "They just jinx every job"

Powder and I are about to defend ourselves when Vi cuts in.

"Just drop it Mylo" Vi says, starring straight ahead as the elevator slower to a stop. The doors cracked open, and she pulled her hood up, stepping out into the streets of the Undercity.

We follow her, weaving through the crowded streets filled with vendors and people. At one of the stalls, Mylo steals some fruit from a sleeping merchant, stuffing it into his pocket with a smirk.

we continued down the streets until we reached The Last Drop. without a word Vi pushes the door open, and we all slipped inside.

✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪

Ch. 1 - Ch. 3

There should be another chapter by Sunday.

Don't forget to leave likes and to repost

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 28)

N knocked on Thad's door, his fist sounding like a jackhammer on the steel, at the same moment, Tera had decided she was done with the baby bag, and, during the split second Uzi had removed her hand from the side, threw herself onto the floor and began to roll down the hall, peeling with laughter.

“Tera!” Uzi shouted, running after the stupidly fast rolling pill-baby, N made a move to go after them both, but then the door opened, revealing Thad, looking happy to see him.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” He cocked his head, he was missing his usual hat, leaving his dirty blonde hair looking unkempt and bedraggled, N had forgotten it was still pretty early, as Tera had woken them up in the middle of the night.

“Uh well…” N choked out nervously, visor eyes trained on Thad while the ones on his head tracked his girlfriend as she flailed around the hall trying to catch the rolling infant.

“Tera! Stop rolling!” Uzi shouted, her tail sprung out in her panic, she was breifly tempted to use her solver on Tera, to bring her to safety and off the floor, but a quick flashback of a multitude of accidently exploded pens snapped her arm back down. No, not even going to risk that.

Thad turned his attention down the hall where Uzi was having significant trouble in catching the little gremlin, as Tera was dodging and weaving with impressive accuracy, ending up heading back towards N and Thad.

“N! Catch her!” Uzi called, sounding desperate.

“I got her! I got her!” He called back.

N readied himself to catch the rolling menace, kneeling on the floor, but Tera was still too fast for him, zipping past him while blowing a raspberry, even as he made a grab at her.

“Dangit!” Tera only laughed some more, zipping back around to launch herself towards Uzi again, she giggled, trying to rocket back around N.

“I got her!” Came Thad's voice as he lunged towards her like she was a football, sliding across the floor to capture her in his hands Tera squealed when she got caught, giggling in Thad's hands as he held her up, half his face squished into the floor

“Woo!” He shouted, jumping up to his feet, holding Tera in both of his hands like she was a PVC pipe, he very obviously didn't know how to hold a baby.

“Nice catch Thad!” N praised, although a little nervous with how his freind was holding his daughter, and slightly reaching out to take her back.

“No prob man! Is this your kid?” Thad asked, holding Tera close to his face to take a better look at her, She blew a raspberry at him, annoyed that she'd been caught.

“Y-yeah, that's Tera, please don't drop her…” N found himself antsy, his tail flicking side to side in worry, Uzi was next to him a minute later, putting a hand on his arm to try and calm him wordlessly.

“I'd never!” He replied, but he still didn't hold her right. Instead only using one hand to lift her up by the back.

“She's not a football Thad, in your arms, not your hands.” Uzi responded, heading up to the green worker and showing him how to hold her, he blinked, before slowly tucking her into his arms and looking down at her, N felt himself relax.

“Ah sorry, never held a pill before.” He admitted sheepishly, Tera was finally still, looking up at the new face with her eyes squinted, observing him, much like she did with V.

“Jeeze it's like she's a mini you, Uzi, that glare is a Doorman special.” Thad laughed, and he gave a beaming smile down at the droneling. Uzi felt a strange sort of pride bubble up in her core. Yeah, that's right.

“Heya!” He said, at least he wasn't nervous or scared, and Tera seemed to enjoy his energy, because her curiosity quickly turned to joy, giving him a beaming smile.

“Hey! Look at that! I made her smile!” Thad looked even happier, making Tera look happier too, she began to roll in his arms, getting louder in her antics.

“Daww, you're so cute!”

“Wow… didn't know you wanted kids Thad.” Uzi said, watching Thad excitedly laugh at the baby in his arms.

“Me? Ah nah, don't think I'd be a good parent. Not like you guys! Look how happy she is!” He replied, holding her back up like a trophy he'd just won, N felt his core jump in anxiety again, watching his daughter being held in only one of the jocks hands.

“Thad! Fragile!” He found himself nearly begging the man to put her down, not liking his recklessness.

“Ahh, she's tough, ain't that right little football?” Tera grinned at him, letting out a giggle that sounded suspiciously like one of Uzi's mischievous ones.

“Alright, give her here.” Uzi reached her arms out, a smirk on her face but very visible sweat behind her visor, clearly also slightly perturbed.

“Alright, Alright, Sure thing.” He placed Tera back in her arms and both parents temperatures went back down, now safe in her mother's arms.

“So why are you two here? It wasn't just to show off your kid was it?”

“We uh, we wanted to apologize for ditching your party, something ah… came up and-” N began, looking sheepish and a little guilty, twisting his hands together.

“You two made out, yeah I know.” Thad just rolled his eyes with a mighty shit-eating-grin.

“Wha- what do you mean you know?” Uzi suddenly looked a little panicked, they'd been in the sky! Nobody could actually see them! Right?

“We didn't m-make out…” Was the only complaint N had, they hadn't even had any more on the lips kisses, his nerves were always too bad to do it again, after the adrenaline had subsided.

“You two flew over everyone's heads, you guys had everyone's attention the entire time. We all saw you. I even screamed at you two, did you not hear?” Thad lifted an eyebrow and crossed his arms, questioning them.

“I was… too focused on how beautiful she looked…” N admitted, rubbing the back of his head while blushing like an idiot, he stole a glance at his girlfriend.

“Awww.” Thad cooed, looking incredibly amused, N was always going to be the sappy one. He also had to agree, Uzi had looked incredible at the party, not that he was interested, especially now, but he could admire couldn't he?

“N!” the drone in question hissed at her partner, elbowing him slightly in the gut, so much violet covering her face they were almost covering her eyes.

“What? We aren't hiding it are we?” He asked back, looking genuinely curious, as well as still being a little flustered himself.

“Well no but-” Uzi stammered out, one of her hands resting on Tera's chassis so the droneling couldn't roll away anymore.

“That would be pointless, I think the whole colony knows with how much you guys have been talked about.” Thad interjected, almost nonchalantly even though he knew it would be a big deal to them (or at least Uzi).

They both dissolved in blush, unaware that they had been the talk of the town with everything going on.

“We've uh, We've been busy.” N replied, speaking quickly and making an excuse on why they hadn't known about it.

“Making Tera a sibling?” Thad suggested, making them both freeze up like they'd been paralyzed, N in particular looked like he was about to pass out.

“Oh my Robo-God! Thad!” Uzi hid her face with one of her hands, looking down to hide it, she was already blushing hard before. Now she was sure she'd die.

“Haha! Your face!”

“No, j-just busy!” N replied shakily, although he wasn't in much better shape than Uzi was in terms of embarrassment.

Thad only smirked, a small revenge for them leaving his party even if he wasn't really mad at them. He was siced! It had been obvious from the beginning that they were into each other. And now they were together! And had a happy little kid on thier hands! It was cute, and he was excited to see his friends settle into their lives.

Aww man. He was just into sports, what was he gonna do when he didn't have school anymore?

Ah, that was a thought for later. Right now his freinds were at the door.

��Did you wanna come in? I think Lizzy and V were both gonna come by later.” Thad pointed behind him to his (very green) couch. And the young couple in front of him looked at each other.

“Uh… yeah. I guess.” Uzi replied, and with that the little family piled inside. An impromptu hang out in order.

Next ->

[leorobotsworld]

Ruby: *knocks at team Jnr's door*

Jaune: *opens* Oh hey Ruby, what brings you here?

Ruby: Nora said she wanted to talk to me

Jaune: Oh right, come on in

She enters as Jaune closes the door, only to see Nora sitting in a chair, with her legs crossed and blowing bubbles out of a smoking pipe. Jaune sat beside her and continued making a crochet of an unfinished scarf.

Nora: So, you're the missy that wants to date my little Oscar?

Ruby: Nora, what are you-

Nora: Shush *blows bubbles* I will be the one talking here

*For better or worse, I ran out of ideas*

*Continue if you want*

[theoutsiderslove]

Before the Rumble

Darry Curtis x Fem! Reader

Tags: Brief mentions of violence. 

Word Count: 2.5k

“Every one of us will be back here before you know it.”

Ponyboy and Sodapop had been talking about it for weeks.

It seemed like every other conversation focused on it. They talked about it at the dinner table, Soda yelled about it from the shower, and Pony would even take breaks from his homework to stop and chatter on.

When Steve and Two-Bit were around, and then all four of them got to going on about it? Then it was really a rousing conversation. 

While Darry was looking forward to it the same as they were, he was beginning to get a little annoyed with the constant talk of it. Sure, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence, and it was something they all got excited for.

Darry, however, preferred to wait until a day or two before to begin hyping up for it. There was no sense in being all tense for it when it was still two weeks out.

You, on the other hand, didn’t mind all the bubbly chatter. It made you happy to see them so excited for something. 

After all, it wasn’t every day that they had a rumble to look forward to.

Over the last several months, things had been extra heated between the Greasers and the Socs. More and more unprovoked fights, crossing over into territories, and just overall grievance between the two groups had become obvious – and it was time to cool things down a bit.

Rumbles were a decent way for the Socs and Greasers to blow off steam on one another. It was their chance to get in as many swings and kicks as they could without “breaking the rules.” 

It would settle things down at least…for now. 

Needless to say, the boys were stoked, and now that the night had arrived and the rumble was only a few hours out – they were off the walls.

“Hey! I saw that, Two-Bit,” You barked. “No knives.” 

His cheeks flushed pink at being caught shoving his blade into his pocket, but the grin on his face was as Two-Bit as ever.

“I wasn’t gonna use it!” He claimed, but you knew him all too well.

“You know what happens when a knife comes out at a skin fight,” You pointed at him with a knowing finger. “I don’t want to have to sew anyone back together tonight.”

Two-Bit cackled at that, his usual wisecracker of a personality shining brighter than ever. Nonetheless, he obliged to your scolding, removing his switchblade from his pocket and leaving it on the table in front of the couch.

It didn’t dampen his spirits whatsoever. If anything, everyone’s normal behaviors were doubled tonight.

The Curtis home was bustling with activity. The gang was on fire with energy tonight, all of them going through their separate routines to get prepped and ready for the rumble. Dallas was nowhere to be seen, but he usually showed up right when it was time to get going. 

They were spread out throughout the house, each of them piping up within the conversation.

“Y’all think the fuzz will show up?” Steve asked from the dining table, where he was playing some card game with Sodapop.

“Nah. I don’t think this is gonna be that kind of rumble,” Soda answered. “A couple of minutes at most.”

Your head popped out from the kitchen at the sound of that. While the women usually didn’t participate in rumbles, you were going to be on clean up duty when they returned to the house later that night. It was important to be sure that there was plenty of first aid, clean rags, and aspirin to fix everybody up…not to mention some kind of bedding so everybody had a place to crash, and towels so everyone could shower.

“Sodapop, do not get too comfortable with that,” You advised. “I also would prefer not to have to bail any of you out of jail.”

“Awh, come on, [Y/N]. You’re just bein’ paranoid.” Ponyboy said from the sofa, where he and Johnny were sitting quietly.

Pony and Johnny didn’t usually say much before a rumble. They were the smallest of the group, and these rumbles were physically much rougher on them than the rest of the gang. Still, they liked to pull their weight like everybody else, and bringing glory to the Greasers meant more than anything.

“Especially you,” You pointed again, but at Pony this time. “It’s one thing bailing Dally out. You’re a different story.”

You couldn’t help but be protective. When you and Darry started dating, you signed on with this gang. Each and every one of them meant something special to you. In some way or another, each of them had helped you out and been there for you in some way. They trusted you the same way you trusted them. It was the least you could do to pay it forward – keep them safe and clean them up afterwards when they weren’t.

Steve turned around in his chair to look at you, a goofy smirk plastered on his face.

“Why? You think Darry’s gonna yell at you if he does?” Steve laughed. “No chance that’ll ever happen.”

You couldn’t help but share a smile. The guys always teased Darry about how he was so serious and rough all the time. But the second you were around or if he was merely even thinking about you, that big man demeanor melted away. 

“What will never happen?” Darry asked as he entered the living room, only hearing the second half of the conversation.

Not wanting to argue with the big man in the house, Steve waved him off.

“Eh, don’t worry about it,” Steve dismissed, returning to his card game with Soda. “Got any twos?”

Darry scoffed, rolling his eyes at his kid brother’s best pal. The man’s blue-green eyes met yours, a certain shimmer shining over them when he looked at you. He had a small, yet dashing grin on his face – an expression he showed when he was happily, but quietly thinking about you.

A moment was shared between your silent looks. He knew you were nervous, as you usually were before they all went off to go beat up a bunch of rich kids from the other side of town. He was sure that you had already given Pony and Soda the pep talk about getting away if the cops showed up. He was positive that you had already told Two-Bit to empty his pockets of any weapons.

He knew your thought process, and your caring nature for him and his family (both biological and not) made him feel like the most loved guy in the world.

“Hey,” Two-Bit called to Darry, suddenly re-inserting himself to the topic at hand…or the one that was attempted to be left behind. “Speaking of things that’ll never happen, when are you going to buy that poor girl a ring?”

Your smile was wiped clean off your face, and a scowl appeared in its place.

“Keith.” You said boldly and sternly before anyone else could get a word in.

Two-Bit sank into his chair at the usage of his real, government name – a telltale sign that (per usual) he had taken it too far.

That “girl” he was referring to was you, and it was something that he hassled Darry about all the time. 

Everyone knew that you and Darry wanted to get married and would get married…eventually. According to Ponyboy, Darry had wanted to ask you to marry him within the first six months that you were together. 

But you knew the situation that Darry was in. Their parents were gone, and things hadn’t been so smooth for them in the last few years. It had only been about a year since they had died when you met Darry and now, three years later, on the surface it seemed that your relationship was going nowhere. 

But you knew that things weren’t so black and white. Darry on numerous occasions had began to save up some money to buy you a ring and put it aside for a wedding, but it seemed that every time Darry was getting some decent cash saved, one of the boys would get hurt or something urgent around the house would need fixing, and Darry would have no option but to use the money elsewhere.

One time you even suggested to Darry to forget the ring and just have a small courthouse wedding. It was cheap and quick. It wasn’t like you needed a wedding ring or any kind of “real” wedding ceremony. Spending the rest of your life with Darry is what mattered the most, but Darry knew that (even if you wouldn’t admit it) you wanted a real wedding with at least some of the bells and whistles.

Darry was insecure about it. He knew that you were long overdue for a proper proposal. He wondered sometimes why you had stuck around the way you had without any promise of marriage. In many ways, Darry wondered why you were still with him at all – because he knew you deserved so much more than what he could give you.

You didn’t have to pitch in around their house like you did. You didn’t have to treat Sodapop and Ponyboy as if they were your own. You didn’t have to put up with the foul-mouthed, chainsmoking pack of people that you were around on a daily basis. And you surely didn’t have to be the caretaker of the aftermath of a good old-fashioned Greaser brawl.

But you loved Darry, so you did all of that anyway.

In Two-Bit’s defense, pretty much everyone had asked that question at some point…in their own personal style. Whether it was Johnny quietly whispering to Ponyboy or Dallas asking Darry when he was going to “get on with it,” everyone had wondered about it.

It was clear too that everyone was curious for an answer, considering that the entire house had now gone silent. Every pair of eyes in the room was on Darry, which made you feel worse than it did him.

While you were well aware that they had all thought about it, you didn’t like it when they said it out loud.

Darry had enough pressure on himself as it was, you didn’t want more weight to press down at your expense. Darry had gotten used to the guys poking him about this, and he usually knew what to do to change the subject.

“What about you, wise guy? Where’s your girl?” Darry mocked. “Where’s Kathy, huh?”

Believe it or not, Ponyboy was usually the first to jump in to defend Darry…even though he wanted the two of you to get married more than anybody.

“Did Kathy finally get sick of your jokes, Two-Bit?” Pony joked, and the volume in the house began to pick up again.

“Maybe she moved on to a Greaser that can actually make it to noon without getting piss drunk!” Sodapop howled, and now everyone was dogging on Two-Bit instead.

“I’ll have you all know that me and Kathy are doing just fine.” Two-Bit proclaimed, but that only seemed to make everyone mess with him more.

There was a distraction for now, and you jumped on the opportunity to have Darry to yourself for a minute.

“Hey, Darry?” You called calmly, darting your eyes to silently let him know that you wanted to talk privately.

Darry caught your look, and nonchalantly carried himself into the kitchen to avoid disrupting the bickering between Two-Bit and everyone else.

You didn’t try to hide the anxious look on your face once it was just you and Darry. His face morphed into a worried look, but he already knew what your nerves were for.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, just in case.

“Listen…I know you’re always careful but…just be careful.” You asked, smoothing out a wrinkle on his t-shirt.

“Always,” He confirmed. “I don’t think this will be a big rumble.”

You heard what he said and understood, but that didn’t stop you from continuing.

“And keep an eye on Ponyboy and Johnny if you can. I know they’re independent and can handle themselves, but they’re just so much smaller and I don’t want-”

“Hey, hey. I’ve got this,” He smiled in amusement, but appreciated your concern as always. “Every one of us will be back here before you know it.”

There was no sense in fussing over them at this point. They were going to do what they always did…fight for their glory and return victorious.

“Okay,” You swiped a stray hair from his forehead, placing it back with the rest of his greased hair. “Try to avoid the one that bites.”

Darry laughed gently, his memory flashing in remembrance of the Soc from last time that bit Darry so hard that he swore his teeth almost popped through the underside of his hand. 

“I’ll try.” He nodded.

You didn’t have much else to say. Darry’s reassurance had comforted you, and you felt a little better about everything.

But Darry still had one thing in the air to clear.

“And…” He sighed, glancing over his shoulder quickly to make sure that there were no wandering, listening ears. “About the ring – I’m gonna ask you to marry me one day, I swear. I just- things are even tighter than usual right now and-”

“Shh, shh. Stop,” You held a gentle finger to his lips. “I don’t need a ring, and you don’t need to explain yourself.”

“But you deserve to know.” His gaze went even softer, his voice even finding a pillowy tone.

There was a beat. A brief silence. And a kiss.

“I already know.” 

Darry had never felt more loved. He didn’t know what kind of stars had aligned and what he had done to deserve such a wholesome, pure love. Whatever it was, he was thankful for it every single day. 

Darry stayed with you in the kitchen, sharing soft touches and sweet kisses, occasionally eavesdropping in on the ruckus going on in the living room. For a moment, Darry didn’t even want to go to the rumble. He wanted to stay right here with you, forever if he could’ve.

That was until-

“Dally’s here!” Johnny announced, peeking out the window to see Dallas cruising up the steps. 

Dallas’ arrival meant that it was showtime, and that the highlight of the night was about to begin. Dally’s appearance didn’t last long. Just long enough to rally his crew and get to where the rumble was being held. Everybody went scrambling out the front door (but not before Darry stole one more kiss from you), hooting and hollering all the way down the street until they were out of earshot from inside the house.

You knew that they would return much quieter and calmer, the post-adrenaline effect would have long been kicked in by then. But their spirits would be lifted, and there would be some improved tension between the Socs and the Greasers. 

It wouldn’t be long before things would get intense again. It was only a matter of time before you would be doing this all over again. That was just how it worked. It wasn’t an easy life. Some days felt harder than others, and some days were unbearable. But even if you had the choice, you wouldn’t change a single thing. As long as you had Darry, you would be fine.

Because you loved him no matter what – rumbles and all.

[mchmmbls]

little habits the karasuno boys have - third years

daichi: runs his hands through his hair when he’s stressed out. cracks his knuckles. does a silly little dance if no one is around on the platform while he’s waiting for his train in the morning/after school. carries cough drops and pain killers in his backpack just in case of emergencies. belts out his favorite songs in the shower, much to the chagrin of his parents & anyone else who lives with him. fills in bubbles on multiple-choice tests completely instead of just circling or crossing through them. writes down little to-do lists on index cards instead of keeping an actual planner. has a ton of journals that he never writes in & buys more anyways. plays made-up games in his head involving nature (like which raindrop will slide down the window faster).

sugawara: daydreams while listening to music, thinking about the choreography of a music video he’s the star of. stress-bakes. people watches. drums his fingers across the wood of his desk in the brief moments where he’s not paying attention in class. blows on any liquid that he’s drinking, even if it’s cold (he’s too used to drinking piping-hot tea & coffee, and he’s been teased by the other boys for blowing on a cold glass of milk once). always has a bookmark on him so he doesn’t have to dog-ear books. picks up nail polish every so often from the drug store so he can start trying it out after he’s done being a setter.

asahi: scribbles down shops that he sees on the street with display clothes that he likes in a little notebook that he carries with him. takes pictures of everyday items and sights to keep a record of his days & where he went. always picks the same cat to hang out with at a cat café he frequents to the point where some of the employees question whether or not to just let the man adopt the cat. doodles designs in the margins of his notes (and sometimes the teacher comments on them, which always manages to fluster him). collects stamps and stickers. writes letters that he never sends to his friends & keeps them in a special box. chews on disposable straws until they can’t actually do their job.

[the-blind-geisha]

“Try and get out of that, you insufferable menace!” - King Boo

@silly-inky commented about how they could imagine my gijinka KB blowing bubbles with his pipe, and it was too good an idea to pass up.

So I turned it into his weapon. LOL 😂 Basically the equivalent to him capturing people in paintings, I guess, but in bubbles. Just don’t ask him to go above ground with it. It’ll turn into a Scuttle moment.

Made KB have a bit of bioluminescent parts as I wager he prefers the deeper parts of the ocean. Mer!Luigi I tried to model after a flying fish. They got mad ups, right? That’s good enough, I wager!

Enjoy the bubble boo. It was suggested by my friend on IG, Mightyroardraws!

[thicc-astronaut]

I'm going to look soooo wise and worldly with my full beard and tobacco pipe.

Very excited. My beard is almost long enough to start using my beard wax to shape it again.

And then just a little bit after that it'll be long enough to look thoughtful while stroking it