#I just feel like he would be I can't explain it

[himbosandhardwear]

"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.

Eddie looks down. "Huh?"

"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.

"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."

He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"

That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'

He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.

"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.

"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"

"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"

Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.

"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."

He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.

"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.

"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.

He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.

"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."

"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.

"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.

Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."

He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"

He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.

"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.

Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"

Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.

"You're not straight?"

"No."

"And you were flirting?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"

They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.

[dcxdpdabbles]

can you write the batfam going to amity due to *reasons* and alls well until Jason feels like he SHOULDNT go near since it’s Danny’s Haunt? Like how Crime Alley is ‘his’ Haunt? And batfam thinks he’s just being dramatic but uh, yeah he isn’t.

"I'm not going in there," Jason repeated, standing on the side of the highway, arms crossed over his chest and a stubborn scowl on his face.

"Jay, please get back in the van," Bruce sighed while the rest of the Waynes stared from their seats. They had originally all gotten off, but when the second eldest had started yelling, Bruce herded everyone back inside, including Dick.

No one knows why Jason was acting like this.

A few minutes earlier, he had napped comfortably in the far back of the large van Bruce had rented. The family had been on a cross-country road trip, where they all piled in together and let the GPA lead them to their final destination- Wayne Mountain Hotsprings. Alfred had the idea to practically kick everyone out of the manor to bond.

Members of their various teams would watch Gotham for the three weeks they would be gone. This week, Kon and Bart texted Tim updates. At first, the Waynes were not entirely up for the trip, but after a few hours of driving, they all enjoyed singing random songs and researching their vacation pick.

They each got to pick one random spot they wanted to stop at one the way- tourist trap or not- and Damian had been excited to go to "America's most haunted town." He had even been able to contact local ghost hunters who were excited to give them a tour. The Waynes would spend the night at the only hotel in the city and leave tomorrow morning.

That was the plan until Jason woke up screaming at the top of his lungs, "Pull over! Pull over! I can't go in there!"

It gave everyone a heart attack. Bruce had nearly driven into the other lane as Jason had been attempting to unbuckle himself and- were it not for Cass's quick reflection- fling himself from the moving vehicle. As soon as they found a safe spot to pull over, Jason leaped from the van and placed himself in front of the Welcome to Amity Park sign

A little up the road, they could see the city's outskirts. The Fentons, the acclaimed ghost hunters, were expecting them in twenty minutes. Damian was getting angsty.

"Can you explain why you can't go into Amity Park?" Bruce questions, stepping closer. "I won't make you go in there. I just need to know what's going on."

"Don't you feel that?" Jason asks, gesturing to the air around them. "It feels unsafe."

"What does?"

"The vibes," Jason said straightly, and Bruce's left eyebrow was spammed. "The vibes are choking."

Bruce takes another step closer, voice lowering into the familiar tone of comforting a scared civilian. "Jay what do you mean by that."

Jason opened his mouth only to snap his head upwards with a scream. "He's here!"

Everyone looked up—or at least those in the van by a window—only to see nothing. There was nothing there that could have freaked out Jason so much. The sun, maybe? Gotham wasn't known for its sunlight, and perhaps the fact that he grew up without it made it extra terrifying to the Gothamite.

Jason leaped behind Bruce, hiding like he did as a child. Now that Jay was taller than his father and buckler, it was a strange sight. "I'm sorry! I swear I wasn't going in!"

"Jaylad, what-"

"Ghost detected." The robotic voice of Damian's official ghost-hunting equipment made everyone freeze. The boy had opened the door of the van, escaping Duke's attempted grasp, but whatever he was going to say was cut off by the little machine in his hand.

It came from the Fentons' online store, and although it didn't work, Damian enjoyed walking around with it, searching for the paranormal. The rest of the family saw it as an age-appropriate make-believe, sighing in relief when he waved his little box around before deeming the area safe.

As it were, Damian waved the box again, letting the machine hum and bling as it landed on a particular spot in the sky. "Ghost detected. Ghost detected. Ghost located. Ghost is ten feet before you."

"Oh wow," An unknown voice said over the sound of rushing cars on the highway. Damian's eyes widen. "Haven't seen that design of the Fenton Finder in years. First edition, isn't it?"

Damian eyes are practilly sparkling as he puffs out his chest "It is! Are you a ghost?"

"Yeah." Suddently a glowing flouting transparent boy pops into thin air. No sound, no portal, not rush of air. Just one second he's there. He offers Damian a wide warm smile, that somehow makes his glowing green eyes menecing. "I'm Danny Phantom."

He turns his eyes back to Jason as Damian gapes at him. The boy had thought Phantom was a local urban legend. He has been decorating his room with "captured" images of Phantom for years. He turns to Tim, hissing for a pen and his photo binder.

"You." Phantom points at the cowering man. "Feel strange. You're overshadowed, but at the same time, there is no foreign soul in your body. What are you?"

"Um, I'm just here on vacation with my family-oh!" Jason words are cut off as Phantom flings himself at the pair. Before Bruce or Jason can react the ghost has his hands inside of Jason chest, ramaging around like it's a bag. Oddly enough, this makes Jason blush.

"Hmm. Yeah, there is no other ghost here. Are you haunting your own corpse?" Phantom floats upwards to stare into Jason's eyes. "Or are you a Halfa?"

"My own corpse," Jason gasps, but Bruce decides he's not about to let whoever this bothers his son, pushing Phantom back. Only somewhat surprised by the fact he made contact the hero's grunts

"Kindly keep your hands to yourself."

"Sorry," Phantom mutters, flouting back. He fidgets with his glowing white hair while shifting his feet. "I just wanted to be sure he was safe. You may enter."

And with another pop, he's gone.

Damian makes a sad whine in the back of his throat, holding a picture of a blurred image of Phantom and a pen. He flipped through the binder, attempting to find the clearest one while the ghost chatted with his father and brother. "I didn't get an autograph."

"There's always next time," Tim offered, patting the boy back as he led him towards his seat in the van again. You should keep that on your person so if you run into him again, we can get it signed for you quickly."

"Okay"

"Phew," Jason breathed, wiping the cold sweat from his forehead. "That was terrifying. Anyway, we should get going, I don't want to be late for the Fentons."

He ignored Bruce's look, walking back as if he hadn't held them up for nearly forty minutes because the vibes were bad.

Bruce stared as Jason skipped back to the van, feeling very old and single. Maybe he should try calling the blind date Alfred had attempted to set up for him. He needs some support in raising his children. He has too many white hairs as it were.

[multipleoccupancy]

The questions kept coming, which he should have expected and while it was a comfort to know her curiosity was high enough that she would ask questions like she usually would, Theo was starting to feel the need to mind what he said. Still fearful of punishment of course but also in some attempt to both protect Violet from Delta Green and perhaps vis versa too. "The work is voluntary for field agents," Theo explained as the only question he would answer in the moment. "I do this without pay." But Delta Green had set him up for life in other ways too and she knew that, he could hardly complain.

Concerned for Violet's response to his suggestion to try her mother while he was unavailable had him shift awkwardly in the desk chair. He hadn't liked that answer.

"You're not lying to her about nightmares, nightmares aren't real and you can very easily know what I went through in the ward, you've been around me long enough to pick up information just like she has." Theo insisted, "You are never a burden to either of us and she and I both would be heartbroken if you bottled up your worries and concerns thinking you were protecting either of us. That's not how this family works and you don't have to hide that you're hurt by this too." He was not going to magically get better in his head, in fact he was fairly sure that he had new mental scars to carry around with him from remembering what happened but that was not Violet's fault.

"You don't even have to tell her what's happened in the dream, just that it was a nightmare and you need comfort that I can't offer right now." He knew he was still so very nervous of touch and he had upset Andrea the previous night in recoiling away from her offered comfort, unintentionally of course. "Don't shut yourself away because you think you're not entitled to help just because I need it at the moment too." Was it a lecture? Probably. "We're your parents, we will always make time for you."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"That makes sense," Violet nodded. But in fact, his explanation had opened many more questions in her mind. Questions she was going to ask him! "When was Delta Green created? Was it always secret? Is it still linked to the government, even though it's secret? And how do they send you payslips, then? Do they use a fake company as a cover?" The fact that she could fire questions quite so fast was at least the sign that she was relatively ok. Not in the best of shape, sure. But in still good enough shape to be curious! And ask too many questions.

It wasn't that Violet had changed her mind: she still didn't want to be an agent anymore. But she was a naturally curious girl and was even more curious when it came to Delta Green. It was a secret part of her dad's life, but it was a big part of it too. The more she understood it, the less mysterious and blurry it was.

Violet was not about to tell her dad about her nightmares, not when it could risk triggering his memories. Besides, he probably already knew she was dreaming about the ward. "I know," she said a little miserably, "but I don't like lying to mom." And if she went to her mom after a nightmare, she'd have to lie. She couldn't tell her she was dreaming about the ward, she wasn't supposed to know anything about the ward! "Plus... I don't want to be an extra worry for her." Not when her mom already had to worry about her dad. "I'll be ok. I'm used to nightmares. They always pass eventually."

[kismetlotts]

Omg omg hii I have this super request of Price slipping into his beautiful neighbour’s house, (just the way the man was so good at staying in the shadows when he entered Shepherd’s pffice) slipping something funny into the water she’s supposed to drink after a workout... She passes out in a matter of minutes after sitting down and by the time she wakes up, she’s so sore and sticky yet can’t even seem to remember why... or falling asleep at all!

Fucking love this idea! Got a little carried away though and made Price a bit of a stalker- but I hope you don’t mind!

cw: noncon, rape, use of drugs (spiking), Price is a little bit of a stalker, mentions of hand jobs, fingering, self tasting, oral sex on fem, being ejaculated on, watching through window, mentions of stealing panties, Price has a little obsession with the reader, mentions of spit, a lot of sweat, use of degrading name e.g 'bitch', Price can't see what he is doing is wrong, mentions of exercise, rough sex, a lot of manhandling, neighbour next door trope

"Need any help with those?" Was what started it all off. Price was in the midst of bringing in groceries after being away for so long due to work in the military. The boot of his car raised as bags of necessities- food, beer, what not- were pretty much trickling out and onto the pavement.

He lived in a local quiet area of town, houses decently sized and kept tidy. Lawns frequently mowed, flowers always grown and planted- such a shame how little sunshine England got because it would look like something out of a movie. John was also acquainted well with a lot of the elderly folk around there, most of them having lived their way before he even moved in.

It was perfect for him, given he was usually a bit of a grumpy bastard, living alone in a neighbourhood like that was a breath of fresh air. His neighbours understood him and kept to themselves but not in the distance unwelcoming way, the respecting kid of way. It made him feel secure- snug like a childhood blanket; warm, safe and familiar.

So it’s not difficult to envision the look on his face when he turned around, catching you exiting the house next door. Body in them tight gym shorts and shirt to match as you practically ran over to him. Fucking hell, what had he missed? He had to blink twice; once to register was going on and a second time to look away because your body was enchanting. Forcefully having to drag his eyes away from the plump curves of your ass- the shape of your thighs- your breasts.

Passing you one of the bags from the car, carrying three himself because- of course he had to show off his own strength and muscle to you. A jolt of arousal electrocuting his body from your skin brushing his hand; cock swelling up erratically and his eyebrows furrowed. Johns head immediately leaping to imagine scenarios with them soft fingers of yours.

Finger tips only just touching as your hand spread around the base of his girthy cock, stroking him slowly, looking into his eyes as you bite your lip nervously, wondering if you were doing a good enough job- if you were pleasing him right. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as the pulse in his cock died down. He couldn't let himself get distracted so easily, come on John, what has gotten into you?

As you helped him unload, you explained how you'd moved in next door a couple months ago, not realising anyone actually lived in his house. Rambling on about how nice all the neighbours seem and how easy it was to settle down. How safe this side of town was but honestly, John didn't care one bit.

He wasn't listening to the words despite him deceiving you with his humming and nodding. He was listening to the sound of your voice instead. The sickeningly sweet tone chirping into his ear so delicately it made his hands tremble. Fingers desperate to reach out and touch you like a child with fire.

He knows it will burn, he knows he cant but its just so pretty- he was losing fucking control, who the hell were you?

He'd imagine all the noises you'd make with him above you, finger fucking you until your words were all broken and tearful. Ripping out of your cunt harshly before forcing the fingers into your mouth. Shuddering at the feel of your tongue tracing laps around them, tasting yourself, doing exactly what he guides you to do.

"Do you taste good?" He'd ask you slowly, breath hitting your face from how close the distance between you is. Voice thick with husk and lust because he couldn't let you realise the power you have over him. How weak you get him at the knees- you could have him a begging mess if you asked.

A scarred yet smooth large hand grabbing you by the cheeks, squishing your adorable face so hard your lips shine with spit. Holding you like that and watching your skin pale when he lets go. Not bothering to actually hear your reply before going down and tasting you for himself.

From such short little interaction, a sick fascination had blossomed inside him. Wrapped in his head, tied in his chest and sunken deep in his stomach- it was more an obsession than a little crush. He'd watch you through his window as you pottered around in your kitchen oblivious to his gaze- it wasn't stalking to watch you all the time, he was just watching your back.

If being in the military taught him one thing it was to be cautious of your surroundings, because you never know what might happen - who could be lurking over you. So all he was doing was looking after you, really.

He knew your routine off by heart, when you would shower, when you would sleep, eat- work: He knew it better than you did yourself. He also knew things about you that you didn't even know. Like how many pairs of underwear you go through in a week.

His large muscular arm counting them as he shuffled through your wash basket being sure to snatch one for himself later, as you hummed innocently in the shower: unaware to his presence. And why your phone kept unplugging during the night when you slept, watching your angry face through the glass as you wake up and curse yourself out because you swore you plugged it in and now you have to wait an extra 20 minutes for your phone to charge up before going for your morning jog.

An extra 20 minutes of pacing in front of your window in your tight gym clothes, getting a few more stretches in because why not- you have the time.

Oh and you definitely didn't know about the faulty lock on your back door, and how when you jiggle it a bit the fucker just opens up with ease. How little effort it was to slip inside and glide around your home, the smell of you saturated into the sofa, the bed, the walls, precum dribbling into the fabric of his boxers. Your house really was yours, everything down to the last detail was just you.

He felt like he couldn't breathe yet breathing heavily was all he could bring himself to do. Lingering in the shadows as his fingers trailed along the kitchen counters, fist wrapping around the pink plastic of your water bottle. Silly silly little girl, you shouldn't have left it home because now he can’t stop himself.

Stood behind your front door, black hoodie blending him in as you stepped inside, panting like a dog- a bitch- from your run. Hair drenched in sweat that trickled down your forehead and neck making your skin look aureate- glowing.

He bit back the moan watching how carelessly and greedily you guzzled down your bottle of water. Oblivious to the fact that your friendly neighbour John had tampered with it, oblivious to the fact he was right fucking there, waiting patiently for the side effects to kick in.

Your back hitting the sofa as your panting settled down, eyes drooping a little and without your knowledge or realisation you were out cold. Knocked out- head flopping back and eyes rolled. Price chuckled, walking to the back of the couch, hand hitting your head before shoving your limp body hard, forward and onto the glass coffee table.

"Bless you, love. Didn't even know I was here, did ya?" He asked you loudly, he wanted to scream it at you and if he didn't care so much about the neighbours hearing him shout, he would've. Sadly he had to be cautious.

He had to make sure that you were fully unaware of everything he was going to do to you, before and after and he wasn't going to risk it- someone was bound to check up on you after hearing shouting even if it’s just a quick question while taking the rubbish out.

His fingers entwined in your hair as he slowly crouched down beside you. Yanking you back up, flipping and positioning your body over on the table like a mannequin. The zipper of his hoodie echoing in the silence of the house and fuck, he was desperate for you.

Undressing his top half and throwing the clothes on the settee before spreading your legs wide open. Wasting no time as he ripped a fat hole in your leggings, pushing your panties to the side through the broken fabric.

Johns mouth watered as his eyes locked on your pussy, so hot and steaming with sweat but he couldn't care less- he had been wanting you for the past month despite it feeling an eternity. He really couldn't give a shit if you were clean or sweaty- shaved or not he was fucking having you right here, and right now.

His blue eyes indulged in your peaceful expression, eyelashes pressed against your puffy cheeks while his tongue licked a long aching strip up from your entrance. Throat closed dry with thirst and his body was shaking with adrenaline, holding back and restraining himself from making a mess of your pussy. Letting himself sink into you and your flavour instead; not like it was going to last long or anything.

Less than one minute in and he was eating you, spitting on you, slapping your tiny sensitive clit. Sucking on you, biting you and getting your juices all caught inside his beard, he swore blind days went by with how long he was down there. Taking his precious time and allowing himself to relax and enjoy your taste but being cautious with his actions because he didn’t want to hurt you.

He didn't want you to feel as if you'd been raped or something horrible. He didn't want you to wake up and feel so sore and achy that you panic someone came in and fucked with you. John wasn't like that- no! He just needed a favour from you and went by it in a way that doesn't cause such a hassle. Saving himself from potential rejection and awkwardness between you too, it was beneficial. He was just borrowing you.

That was neighbours do, yeah? They help each other.

His cock would ram in you so deep his eyes stung from the pleasure he felt. So wet and tight and just for him. Slowly losing touch with the sensible side of him as he picked the pace up. He shouldn't be going that hard, you were definitely going to feel something is off. Going to feel how deep he was inside you when you wake up all lost and confused.

Your clit was going to throb and sting with how much Johns tongue had flicked, sucked and bit it. The more his brain let him know of his mistakes the more he thought, 'fuck it' and let himself be rough. Dragging and moving you around like his personal little sex doll- exactly what you fucking were.

Holding your legs up in the air then switching to your body pressed against his chest, hands squeezing your hips as he pretends your riding him.

"Oh fuck, honey just look at the sight of you. Why don't you come live with me? Why don't you come stay with me next door and I’ll do all this every night." Teeth sinking into your earlobe as his question was left unanswered- he wasn't expecting a response at all but it was an excuse to fuck you harder.

An excuse to rip off your shirt and play with your breasts because you weren’t replying or him and instead was making him angry. Leaving him with no choice but to tease your nipples until he’s about to cum.

Slamming you back down on the table before fisting his cock towering above you. The swollen and desperate tip so red and dripping with precum until finally he grunted and shut his eyes. Showering you in his hot semen watching how the white spurts out and paints your body like his personal canvas.

Palms eagerly massaging the warm cum into your flesh- your stomach, your chest, up on and over neck while he regains his breath and strength. Scooping you up into his arms to carry you up your stairs and into bed, removing everything and tucking you into the sheets- naked. His heart exploded seeing how solemn and innocent you looked all cuddles up, bending down over you to kiss your forehead before leaving.

Discarding the clothes and grabbing his hoodie, making sure to wipe and clean up any juices or evidence of the two of you before leaving out the back and returning home to rest. Missing your soft little murmur as you stirred awake in your bed, confused on how you'd gotten there and where your clothes had disappeared too.

Wincing from the sores on your legs and body and the sticky feeling everywhere as you sat up in bed. A yawn falling from your lips but- oh well.

Must've been from working out earlier.

[suksatoru]

flawed and flawless 𝜗𝜚₊˚⊹♡ dabi x you

You never thought Dabi could be insecure.

Dabi, who walked over people like they held the same worth as the dirt beneath his boots. He was so confident—in himself and his abilities, so you could've never expected him to be insecure about anything at all.

Dabi knows his scars aren't appealing. He knows the appearance of charred flesh held together by staples isn't attractive, by any means. He never cared about it before, never even bothered to think about what other people thought of his looks.

The first time he kissed you, Dabi wasn't thinking about how you perceived his scars. He was too swept up in the moment to even consider how you might feel kissing him, too enamored by your taste and glossy eyes as he deflowered you with a tenderness inside him he didn't know he had

Dabi's kissed you many times now. So he doesn't know why it's this particular moment where he's suddenly hesitant to

You're tracing the staples on his chest gently, laying on top of him with your legs intertwined since his mattress wasn't big enough for the two of you to lay beside each other. He's listening quietly to your words, playing with the hem of your shirt before he gently pushes the fabric aside, moving his palm under and inside the garment

Your stomach is so soft. He rubs the mounds of plush skin with his rough fingertips, loving the way you felt beneath him.

He thinks about how different your skin is from the texture of his arms and face. The flesh on him was marred and tainted, and yours is so pure. Something untouched by the cruel world, flawless compared to his flawed one.

He suddenly pulls his hand away from you

Did you like the feeling of his sharp and cold staples rubbing against your skin? He imagined it would be an alarming feeling—the metal wasn't warm and inviting in his eyes. He curls his fist and hesitantly rests it against your clothed back instead. You're still telling him something as he does this, but you quickly realize he was distracted after calling his name and being met with no reply.

He peers down when you stop talking. but then he realizes you're moving to kiss his jaw

And he moves out of the way, effectively dodging your kiss.

He winces when he sees the look on your face, the pout that quickly forms as he begins to panic about how he was supposed to explain why he didn't let you kiss him just now

"Dabi? Why're you making that face?" You mumble, gently cradling his face as he stiffens under your touch. You see the shift in his mood, and gently move your hands away to rest on his chest instead as he sighs

"Nothing. What were you saying?" He mumbles tiredly as you squint up at him, entirely unconvinced by his words.

"It's not important. Tell me what's wrong." You frown, not moving your hands to comfort him as you realized he wasn't reciprocating your touch for some reason

Dabi stares at you. You stare back. He thinks he's the luckiest man in the world to have you love him. You just...understand. He didn't think he deserved to know you, let alone love you. But here you were, patiently loving him.

"Do you like touching me? I mean, is it not fucking uncomfortable for these baby fingers?" He chuckles dryly, grabbing hold of you as he feels your palm in his. Carefully, he intertwines his fingers with yours. He almost cringes at the contrast of the feeling of his wrist resting against yours as he sighs, before pulling away.

He's staring at the ceiling, not meeting your eyes as you're quite literally stunned into silence. The fan hums quietly, filling the silence as you stare up at him. You suddenly realize what he was trying to say, and your soft voice snaps Dabi out of his train of unwelcomed thoughts

"Dabi."

He looks down, but he has to physically swallow the lump in his throat when he sees your face. He can't respond because he knows his voice will come out shaky and tremble no matter how hard he tries not to let it

"I love you, okay? I don't...I never thought you were hard to touch. You're perfect. There isn't a single thing I'd change about you."

He doesn't know why he feels like crying. His throat feels like its closed, and his eyes burn as his hand returns back to your stomach. He runs his hands all over your body, desperately trying to pull you infinitely closer to him as he lets out a shuddering breath

"I love you too, sweetheart. So damn much." He croaks, his voice strained with so much raw emotion that you can't help but lean into his touch and swipe at the stray blood that trickles down his cheek from his eye

"You should sleep. I'm right here, kay? And when you wake up, we can make those pancakes...the ones with faces on them." You muse, pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips that he desperately reciprocates

He nods his head before tucking it into the space between your shoulder and neck, murmuring your name before his breathing slowly begins to even out

Dabi falls asleep before you. At least, you thought he had fallen asleep. That's the only reason you started to gently kiss across his jaw, just to try and soothe him as he slept. He once told you he loved when you kissed his jaw, saying something about how the feeling was a nice one

His grip on you tightens just the slightest bit. Normally, his heart beat would increase whenever you kissed him. Sometimes it sped up at the mere thought of you—but these kisses didn't have that effect on him. Mainly because they were slowing his heart, instead. Calming him. Grounding him.

He fell asleep with your skin pressed against his, both of you content. He wanted to feel you closer, so he pressed his cheek against yours without fear that his staples or scars would be uncomfortable for you. He knew they wouldn't—knew they couldn't with how you yourself leaned into him the same way he leaned into you, like a flower dipping towards the sun for warmth.

[babybeeelle]

Hi sorry English doesn't have my mother tongue I don't know if it will be understandable BUT here's the idea: instead of Rio it's Reader who invoked. Agatha and Reader his ex but still love each other. Reader becomes close to another witch and Agatha becomes jealous, reader plays with her until Agatha kisses her and tells her that she is hers

mrsines asked:

Summary : Reader and Agatha have known each other since the very beginning. But through time, the relationship was severed. Reader is summoned to the road (instead of Rio). Agatha, still deeply in love with the reader, becomes extremely jealous when Alice starts to get close to the reader. Agatha being Agatha, an argument breaks out.

Warning - Angst, Agatha done been stupid, and an author who is inexperienced in kiss writing descriptions🫣

My own twist of two similar requests!

This is the longest story I've ever written, and its my own twist of two similar requests!

An Immortal Love

Being summoned is a strange sensation. It begins with a sudden, unsettling shift in one’s own energy. It feels like the soul is forcibly dragged from the physical realm, and there is no longer control of one’s own body. Its not painful, but the distortion of reality is deeply disorienting- an out-of-body experience to say the least. Then, just for a moment, the ritual brings weightlessness, like the peak of a rollercoaster before the drop, until the inevitable pull of a supernatural force yanks the summoned being into another plane.

In Y/n’s unfortunate case, she’s pulled through soil and rock, suffocating in the dark embrace of the earth itself. Struggling to break free from the ground’s grasp, she emerges with a groan. Pulling herself upright, instinctively taking in her surroundings. There is no telling who's done the ceremony and why. Being summoned is usually never a good thing. Staying cautious is vital.

The first thing Y/n sees are five horrified faces, and standing protectively in the middle is the woman she swore to never see again.

Agatha Harkness.

“Great, just great,” Y/n mutters under her breath, unable to believe her luck.

“Y/n, you look as stunning as the day I met you. Truly, you age like fine wine,” is the first thing Agatha chooses to say, her cautious expression melting into a sly smile as she stepped forward.

Without sparing her a second glance, Y/n turns on her heel and walks away. “Where the hell am I, and how do I get out? I’m not doing whatever it is you summoned me for,” she states firmly, leaving no room for debate.

"You're on the Witch's Road." Y/n halts in her steps. "There is no leaving," the defiant voice of a young boy calls out.

Y/n chuckles, now annoyed. "The road is imaginary my naive child," she reprimands, turning to make eye contact with him. He's a tall boy, youthful. He exuberates a confident and rebellious aura with his dark curly hair and eye-lined makeup. He's young, and most certainly foolish.

"Then how do you explain where we are? Hm? You cannot deny what is before you, my love," Y/n's former lover explains with a witty smile on her face, stepping closer to her.

"You don't get to call me that," she seethes through her teeth, while rage-filled eyes burn into Agatha's soul, having no effect on Agatha.

"Come on my love, it's been centuries. Why can't bygones be bygones?" Agatha drags out with a sheepish laugh, now closing the distance. She's trying to coax Y/n into shrugging centuries off, to bandage up the gaping wounds in her heart, leaving it to beat in agony. It's like Agatha believes time heals all. They both know it doesn't. She shattered her heart.

Y/n scoffs. She almost can't believe her audacity, but then she remember, it's Agatha. Of course she would expect the woman she'd left broken to erase the raised scars of their history for her benefit.

Shaking her head, Y/n chooses it's best to not let her have any of her energy. Turning her attention to the group, who had been staring at them with a mix of curiosity and caution, she chooses to introduce herself. “Hi, I’m Y/n. Can someone explain why I’ve been dragged onto the road?” she mockingly questions, rolling her eyes.

The woman with a fiery punk appearance speaks out in response, "We needed a green witch." Her presence stands out from the others. She's bold, charismatic, yet reserved. Her strong features and clothing stand out almost like an armor of protection. Her wild and messy, black hair has streaks of vibrant orange that match the edgy outfit she adorns.

Y/n glances briefly at Agatha and lets out a humorless chuckle. “Okay, if that's what you want to call me,” she replies, indifferent, before walking down the road, further leaving the group puzzled.

...

After time passes, everyone makes the collective decision to set up camp and rest for the night. The bright and warm fire casts a soft hue that illuminates everyone as they surround the flames. Wanting to be as far away from Agatha as possible, Y/n deliberately chooses to sit across from her, the flames acting as a partial barrier between them.

In her spot, Y/n notices the particularly intriguing witch sitting next to her, the one who was first to address her. She glances over at Y/n and introduces herself. "My name is Alice. In case you were wondering," she adds to her introduction, hurriedly, still unsure about Y/n's intentions and role in the group. Y/n hums in response, moving her gaze to focus on Alice, encouraging her to continue.

She takes the sign and begins to open up a little. "I never wanted to believe any of this, you know?" she starts, her eyes staring into the fire. "The generational curses. The Witch's Road. I thought it was all just stories my mom made up before she died. I thought she was just...unwell."

Y/n sighs, exhaustion lacing her voice. "I don't know what this is, but the road isn't real."

Alice frowned, disbelief evident in her expression. “How can you say that when we’re here? You weren’t here for the trials, maybe that’s why you think that, but this road is very real. Teen almost died. Mrs. Davis did die.”

Y/n ignores her question, her gaze distant, and doesn't say anything. Alice sighs, giving up on the short-lived conversation. Until, out of nowhere, she start to explain her past, not looking at her. "A long, long, time ago, when Agatha and I were just girls, we were a part of the same coven. We weren't the same as the others. We possessed powers they couldn't fathom. Naturally, they wanted us dead. They tried to kill us because they were scared of the things they couldn't comprehend, the things they knew they'd stand no chance against if we were to betray them. Agatha and I escaped of course, but we were alone. We only had each other. And yet, she left me," she ended, never really ever had processed her grief. She wiped away a stray tear that threatened to roll down her face.

Alice could tell there was a lot more to the story, but she doesn't push. Instead, she tries to sympathize, "Wow, that's-"

Y/n cut her off before she can say anything else, "I don't believe this is the road because I don't trust Agatha."

Alice bites her lip, trying to think of what to say. She doesn't want to say the wrong thing. "I can't imagine how scared you must've been. No one should have to go through that," she says cautiously, leaning closer to Y/n. She reaches her hand out slowly and lays her hand over Y/n's hand, causing her to look at Alice. Her eyes and smile hold sympathy. "You don't have to be alone anymore." Her comfort was warmer than the fire than cracked before the both of them, sending smoke and sparks of the fire through the air. Much like the anger burning in Agatha's mind.

"When you've been alone for so long, it's-"

"Hard to rely on other people?" Its her turn to cut Y/n off. "I know," giving her a half-smile.

She smiles the same back to Alice. The warmth in her words comforting and real. In that small moment, the chains around Y/n's heart loosed for the first time in centuries. It seems like its been forever since she'd been treated so softly, and with genuine care.

Inside, Agatha was seething. You could almost see the smoke steaming out of her ears like a cartoon character. It was the first time she has seen her only love face to face in ages, and here she was, being wooed by someone else. She would never tell Y/n, but she has always make sure she was safe. She was always there to protect her in the shadows. She wished nothing more than to march over and push Alice away from Y/n, letting her know she is hers and always would be. Agatha was beginning to think that's what she had to do. She can't lose her again, not to someone else. Agatha knew Y/n deserves to be with someone far better than her, someone like Alice. That was the entire purpose to why she had to leave her. But the thought of her falling in love with someone else, tore deep into her soul like it was nothing. Watching Alice move closer to her love, and Y/n reciprocating her affection, made her physically sick. She had to do something.

"Maybe its best if you all leave Y/n to rest. Being summoned sure does take a lot out of ya, doesn't it hun?" Agatha fakely humors with a smile, attempting to separate Y/n from Alice in the most discreet manner as possible. The last thing she needed was for Y/n to hate her from ending the witch who was flirting with her. Nevertheless, that plan backfired immediately.

Alice raised an eyebrow in her spot, unbothered. "I think Y/n can make that decision on her own," Alice retaliates, her hand never leaving Y/n's, smirking. She can see right through Agatha's blatant attempt to separate them. She knows what Agatha's trying to do.

"Oh, is that so?" she feigns surprise, holding her hand over her heart. "Cause I'm sure you know her a lot better than I do from this knockoff game of 7 minutes in heaven. " Agatha condescendingly riles up the easily tempered witch, both of them standing now.

"Agatha, you need to calm down. You have no right to be acting this way," Y/n intervenes, shooting daggers at Agatha as she stands up as well. Agatha's angry and pissed, never a good combo in that one. Y/n know how this will go if it continues to escalate. Agatha has always been protective over her, possessive even. Its why is was so much harder to understand why she left to begin with. It never made sense.

Looking over at Alice, Y/n notices her hand start to glow in a closed fist, restraining her will to blast Agatha, knowing what will happen if she does. Y/n takes Alice's hand into her own, trying to calm her down, but this pushes Agatha over the edge.

"Get your filthy hands off her you hag!" Agatha snarls walking over to the two of them, ready to get her hands dirty. Before she can even think about her next move, Y/n blocks her from reaching Alice. She grabs a hold of Agatha's arm as she drags her away from the group, her grip firm and tight around the jealous witch's arm. The others sat silently by the fire, exchanging cautious glances, but unwilling to intervene. Alice, though defiant earlier, held back, crossing her arms, sensing that this confrontation was long overdue.

Y/n didn’t stop until they were far away enough that the only sound was the rustling of leaves, and the faint crackle of the campfire in the distance. Finally, she released Agatha, forcefully pushing her away as if she was disgusted by Agatha's touch, turning to face her with an expression caught between fury and hurt.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Y/n demanded, her voice trembling with barely contained frustration and confusion. “You have absolutely no right to talk to Alice or me like that. You’re the one who left me, remember? Whatever I do now and whoever I choose to do it with, is none of your business.”

Agatha grimaced at her harsh words, but her expression quickly hardened. “None of my business?” she shot back, her voice rising. “Do you think it was easy? To hurt you terribly? Trust me when I say it was the hardest decision I've ever had to make. You have no idea what it did to me to walk away from you.”

"What are you talking about? Protect me from what? Explain to me what was so serious that you chose to abandon me."

Agatha faltered, her defiance wavering. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t seem to find the words.

"Answer me, Agatha. Or I swear, you will never see me again," Y/n said, dead serious.

Agatha’s gaze dropped to the ground. For a moment, it seemed as though she might retreat into her usual wall of protection. But then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached Y/n’s ears, she answered her. “Myself,” she admitted, her voice unsteady.

"Yourself? You've got to be kidding me. What kind of excuse is that? Is that some kind of joke? You think you can come up with excuses that will change all the pain and suffering, the abandonment?" Y/n was fuming. She couldn't believe the situation she was in.

“I was protecting you from myself,” Agatha said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, voice now unwavering. “You don’t understand Y/n. That power was intensifying the darkness inside me, You always saw the best in me, but I knew what I was capable of, what I am capable of. And I couldn’t bear the thought of that darkness corrupting you, of hurting you.”

Y/n stared at her, the weight of her confession sinking in. “You left because you thought you’d hurt me?” she asked, her tone disbelieving.

Agatha nodded, her composure fracturing. “I thought if I stayed, I’d ruin you. When I obtained the dark hold, everything changed. I no longer had control over myself. I was consumed by the power. And I couldn’t live with myself if I were to hurt you. So I left… I left to keep you safe.”

"You don’t get to make that decision for me, Agatha. You don’t get to decide what I can and can't handle. Do you know how long I waited for you to come back? How long I wondered what I did wrong? I needed you Agatha! I still do. But instead, you left me to suffer alone. You did hurt me.”

"I know, I know. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought you'd be better without me," Agatha said regretfully, grabbing onto Y/n's arm in solace. "I see now I made the wrong decision."

Y/n back away from Agatha's touch. "That means nothing. That doesn't fix anything. And just then, you were acting like you can take claim over me?"

“I never stopped loving you,” Agatha blurted, desperation bleeding into her words. “Not for one second.”

Y/n froze, the rawness of her confession slicing through the layers of anger and pain. “That doesn’t change what you did,” she said quietly. “It doesn’t erase the centuries I spent trying to heal the wounds you left behind.”

Agatha took a hesitant step closer, her hand reaching out but stopping short of touching Y/n. “I know, and I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don’t deserve it,” she acknowledges. “I just need you to give me another chance, to give us another chance, to end this heartbreak I've brought upon us,” she pleads, borderline shaking

Y/n takes time to respond, mouth open, trying to muster the words she needed to say. “I...I d-don't know if," she stutters, but her voice is silenced by the connection of Agatha lips onto hers. Agatha’s hands find Y/n’s waist, urgently pulling her into her arms. Y/n melts into her immediately, her mind racing with memories and unresolved emotions. The heat of the kiss spreads through her veins, the walls she’s built begin to crumble. Her hands grasping at Agatha’s shoulders as if anchoring herself to the moment, to her.

The kiss deepens, and time seems to collapse around them. It’s been centuries—centuries of separation, regret, and longing—and yet, none of it matters anymore. The world around them fades away, leaving only the warmth of Agatha’s lips and the electricity sparking between them. Agatha’s fingers trace the curve of Y/n’s back, igniting sensations long buried. Y/n’s hands slip from Agatha’s shoulders to cup her face, the touch tender yet desperate.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest against each other’s, their labored breathing mingles in the cool air of the night. Agatha’s thumb brushes gently against Y/n’s cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn’t even realized had fallen. Y/n’s eyes flutter open, meeting Agatha’s gaze—a mixture of vulnerability, remorse, and unyielding love. Agatha holds onto Y/n face delicately, searching hopefully into her eyes. Y/n's eyes water, grasping her hands lightly onto Agatha's wrists as she bites her trembling red-kissed lip. It takes her a bit to form a decision, trying to decide if she could fully trust her again. "Okay," she says, her lip quirking into a small, vulnerable smile. The word lingering in the air.

Agatha’s breath hitches, her wide eyes brimming with disbelief. "Really? Are you sure? I know I made the wrong choices, but I will spend every second of the rest of my existence I have to fix the damage I've cause. I will give you the love you've always deserved, my love," she vows. For the first time in centuries, Agatha looked vulnerable—her mask of confidence shattered, leaving only raw emotion behind.

"I'm sure. As much as I tried to hate you for leaving me, I never could. I've loved you for centuries, and I'll love you for centuries more." Her voice softens, but the conviction in her words is unmistakable.

Agatha lets out a shaky laugh of relief, and without another word, she pulls Y/n into her arms. They hold each other tightly, as though trying to make up for the centuries of separation in this single embrace. The weight of the past doesn’t vanish, but for the first time in a long time, the future feels possible.

Their forms are cast under the moonlight, a glow bathing them as they stand intertwined in each other’s arms. The world around them seems to fade away, leaving only the sound of their breaths and the steady rhythm of their hearts. The love between them begins to grow stronger with each passing second.

The moonlight reflects in their eyes as they pull back just enough to share a small, soft smile. Agatha presses a gentle kiss to Y/n’s forehead, a silent promise of devotion, while Y/n rests her head against Agatha’s shoulder, finally allowing herself to relax in her embrace.

Together, they turn back toward the firelight in the distance, where the others wait, knowing the journey ahead will not be easy. But as they walk side by side, their hands entwined, it is clear that they are no longer burdened by the weight of loneliness. Whatever comes next, they will face it together—two souls bound by a love that time could not destroy.

[sturn777]

how would fb!chris react if someone roofied dealer!r's drink???

fb!chris' reaction to somebody lacing dealer!r's drink . | ( female reader ) wc ?? ( masterlist ) + ( request )

꒰ა " some things you just can't explain, like the way you're stuck in my brain . " ໒꒱

the music is too loud, bass shaking the walls of the frat house like it’s trying to knock the place down. red solo cups litter the floor, a mix of spilled beer and sticky jungle juice making the place reek. you're leaned up against the kitchen counter, your usual spot for scoping the scene, your eyes scanning the crowd. a few familiar faces nod your way, a silent acknowledgment of what you're there for.

chris is on the other side of the kitchen, nursing a beer and cracking jokes with nate and tyler, two of his closest boys. he’s got that lazy smirk on, the one that makes girls linger a little too long, leaning in for a brush of his arm or a laugh at something he said that wasn’t even funny. but his eyes keep darting back to you, watching the way you keep your head on a swivel, how you don't smile at anyone unless it’s to close a deal.

you've got your cup in hand, the bright red plastic clashing against your dark nails. you aren't drinking much, just taking a sip here and there, yiur other hand in your pocket like you're waiting for the right buyer to make their move.

"yo," tyler nudges chris, pointing toward the living room where a group of freshmen are trying and failing to get a keg stand going. "you think we should step in before someone breaks their neck, or nah?"

"let 'em," chris mutters, but he’s only half paying attention. his eyes flick to you again, narrowing when he notices some guy standing too close. it’s luke, one of the guys from the frat. he’s leaning in, saying something to you, but you're not laughing or smiling. your face is blank, uninterested. typical.

“you know her or something?” nate asks, following chris’ line of sight. “nah,” chris lies, taking a swig of his beer. “just watchin’.”

watching turns into glaring when luke reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm as he hands you a fresh cup. you hesitate before taking it, your eyes narrowing just slightly. chris catches the shift in yiur expression, the way you sniff the drink before taking a sip.

something feels off. he doesn’t know what it is, but his gut is screaming at him. he pushes off the counter, walking toward you just as you sway slightly, your hand gripping the edge of the counter for balance.

"yo, you good?" he asks, his voice low but sharp, cutting through the haze of the party. you blink up at him, your eyes glassy, and shake your head like you're trying to clear it. "i— i’m fine," you mutter, but your words slur, and that’s when he knows.

his jaw tightens, his eyes snapping to luke, who’s standing there with that smug, lazy grin like he didn’t just cross a line. “what the fuck did you put in her drink?” chris growls, stepping in front of you like a shield. luke’s grin falters, but he shrugs, trying to play it off. “man, chill. it’s not a big deal.”

"not a big deal?" chris barks, and then he’s swinging before anyone can stop him. his fist connects with luke’s jaw, the crack echoing even over the music. luke stumbles back, clutching his face, and then it’s chaos. the other frat boys rush in, trying to separate them as chris lunges again, his eyes wild with fury.

“chill, bro! he’s not worth it!” nate shouts, grabbing chris by the shoulders and dragging him back as luke scrambles to his feet, his lip bleeding. “get the fuck out,” chris spits, pointing at luke, his chest heaving. “now.”

luke hesitates, but the look in chris’ eyes makes him backpedal, shoving his way through the crowd and out the front door. the room’s still buzzing, everyone whispering and watching as chris turns back to you. you're sitting on the counter now, your head in your hands, trying to steady yourself.

“hey,” he says, softer this time, stepping closer. “you good?” you look up at him, your eyes clearing just a little. “i’m fine. just... dizzy.”

“yeah, no shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. “c’mon. you’re not staying here.”

he doesn’t give you a chance to argue, just grabs your hand and leads you out of the house, ignoring the stares and whispers. when you get to his car, he opens the door for you, watching as you sink into the passenger seat.

“you didn’t have to do all that,” you say quietly, your voice still shaky. he glances at you through low eyes. “yeah, i did. and if that asshole shows his face again, he’s done.”

you don’t respond, just lean your head against the window, your eyes fluttering shut. and for once, you don't argue or push back. you just let him take care of you.

taglist : ( @emely9274 ; @bluestriips ; @loveparqdise ; @flouqissss ; @st4rcs ; @starwebber9 ; @conspiracy-ash ; @sweetrelieef ; @chris-hallelujah ; @leoslaboratory )

[not-a-lady-irl]

Midnight Studies

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x reader Summary: You were up until night studying for Mr. Crewell's test, the most feared of all. You swore no one would notice you were awake, seeing as the storm made it muffle all noise. However, you were wrong. Warnings: terrible writing (indeed) Author's Note: I confess the writing wasn't one of the best but in my defense I was exhausted from sleep while writing lol Words: 1.0K

Heavy rain pounded on Diasomnia's dormitory window. The noise of thunder was an addition to all that storm. It was already a habit for you, much less a problem, you loved these nights when these sudden storms joined you in your studies. They gave you a feeling that you weren't alone.

Studying late at night was not an easy task, but with some exams arriving this effort was necessary. Mr. Crewell's test was the next day and you were having difficulty with a specific subject that you were almost certain would be on the test so because of that subject, you were here, now, at 2 in the morning, sitting at the table in the entrance hall, with all your books, notes, notebooks and pens on it, studying.

Oh, and how you were studying.

You needed to get a good grade on this test to pass, you couldn't disappoint your dorm who were known for excelling in almost every subject and activity at school. You also didn't want to be disappointed, believing that you are a burden.

— I think just a few more questions and I can rest.

If it were any other normal night, without rain and thunder, you would be trying your best not to make noise and indicate that you were awake at those hours, but, thanks to the storm, you believed that you wouldn't need that effort.

You gave your notes another quick read and decided it was time to answer the questions, because what better way to practice a subject than by doing exercises on it?

You read the first question. Pause. Think. Read it again. Pause. Think again. Go back to the beginning and get stressed.

— It's not possible… — A tone of despair escapes your lips.

You place your head in the palm of your hand and rest your arm on the table. The material was right there in front of you, you spent the entire afternoon studying it and now the night trying to understand that subject.

Despair takes over you and as a result you end up deciding to stay up all night.

It would be very bad for you, since you would be awake for more than 24 hours, your sleep would be disrupted, your concentration would be low, your energy would be almost exhausted…

You honestly didn't imagine that this would be a problem for both the prefect and the vice prefect of Diasomnia, as you were studying precisely to help the dormitory's reputation! It felt like you were doing it more for them than for you.

— Well, then I think... from the beginning….

Before you could pick up the book again to read, a voice came from behind you.

— How long do you intend to stay up to study?

The voice takes you by surprise. You didn't believe that someone would be awake at that moment to realize that you hadn't gone to bed yet. When you turn back, you found Lilia looking at you with an expression of concern and reprimand.

— It's bad to stay up this late at night, I can't believe you didn't know that. — His voice comes out strict.

He was the last person you imagined would catch you awake.

Nervous, you try to explain yourself and lie saying that you were already leaving.

— I was just reviewing content Lilia, I swear I was going to bed right away! — You give a smile trying to affirm your excuse.

Lilia just stares at you. Obviously he wouldn't go down that easily.

— Since that's the case, I'll remain here until your quick review is over and you go to your room to sleep. — He comes over and sits in the chair next to you — You have five minutes — His lips form an amused smile.

You didn’t know if he was having fun with you or the fake situation you created. Maybe both, who knows.

But now you had no option but to "revise" in five minutes.

You put down the book and pick up your class notes again and read them, still not understanding most of the things that were there.

Time passed and when you least expected it, the brief five minutes had already ended.

— That's it! Time to sleep. — He gets up and pulls you by the hand, taking you to your room.

The weight of not doing well on Mr. Crewell's test made you explain your situation to Lilia, hoping that he would understand and just let you stay awake that night.

— Lilia… please, I can't sleep now. — He stops pulling you and looks at you — Mr. Crewell's test is tomorrow and I haven't managed to understand a specific subject yet… I don't want to do badly and ruin the reputation that my dorm has because of me — The outburst comes out and you anxiously await Lilia's reaction

But all you get is a laugh.

— Do you really think we would lose our reputation because of a test? — He lets go of your hand and approaches you.

— Y/N, the happiness and health of our students is much more important to us. You don't need to try so hard because of this, although I can't deny that it makes me happy to see such a dedicated student at Diasomnia! — He lets out another chuckle.

— But…. Lilia…. — You try to defend yourself again but are interrupted by him pulling you back to your room.

— No more excuses! Time to sleep.

You are led until you stop in front of your room, Lilia patiently waiting to see you enter to confirm to himself that you have indeed gone to sleep.

You let out a sigh and finally enter.

— Good night Lilia. — You say goodbye to him and close the door.

— Sweet dreams, Y/N — Lilia walks calmly towards his room. — I think I should be more careful in case she spends more nights awake....

You couldn't deny it, Lilia's words and the fact that he forced you to go to sleep helped you have a good night's sleep without any worries.

And honestly, it's a good thing he told you to go to sleep, because the test had been canceled thanks to the heavy rain the night before.

[ylangelegy]

hii,

for the prompt game: seungkwan + " its not like i'm in love with you or anything"

can't wait to see what you do with it !! ♡♡♡

ⵌ non-idol!seungkwan x reader. ⵌ word count: 999. ⵌ notes: alternate universe: non-idol, childhood best friends, fake dating -ish. a, i will give you the world!!! 🫰

"You've got to be kidding me."

Alas, you've known your best friend Seungkwan long enough to know that he is, in fact, not joking. You can see the familiar set of his jaw, the spark of mischief in his eyes. It's the same expression that the brunette has sported since you were children on the playground, pulling pranks on one another.

This was yet another one of the many practical jokes he wanted to pull, except you were now an accomplice instead of the victim. "Kwan," you say. Slowly, like you're explaining something to a five year old. "I'm not going to pretend to be your girlfriend just to make your ex jealous."

"Why nooot?" he whines. He's splayed out on your bed, half his body hanging out the mattress as he attempts to give you a pitiful, puppy dog-like gaze. "It's not like I'm in love with you or anything. I just need to show her what she's missing."

"By going out with the girl you told her not to worry about?" you ask wryly.

"Exactly! You got it!"

"I was being sarcastic."

Seungkwan lets out a drawn-out groan. He curls up further into your sheets, his expression contorted into one of childish petulance. It's difficult to believe that the man in front of you is twenty-something and not, in fact, a teenager who isn't getting his way.

"You're a terrible best friend," he accuses. "The absolute worst."

You would be more offended if you haven't received the brunt of Seungkwan's tantrums throughout the years. "I am," you say empathetically. "And that's why you're still here, bothering the hell out of me."

He gives you an exaggerated sniffle in return. "It'll literally be just for a day. You don't even have to say anything― just stand there and be your usual, pretty self."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Boo."

"This isn't flattery. It's a negotiation." A beat. He looks thoughtful, which is never a good sign for a conniving Seungkwan. "Okay― how about you just hold my hand?"

From where you are across the room― your computer chair, by your desk― you raise an eyebrow. "Hold your hand," you repeat.

It's not a particularly novel idea. Seungkwan was fairly tactile― prone to hugging you from behind, tugging you to and fro. Hand-holding was usually reserved for more serious moments, though, and so it feels like a bit of a travesty to imagine it being used in his little ploy.

"Just hold my hand," he prompts, scrambling to sit up. Your renewed interest in the idea seems to have given him a burst of misplaced hope. "You don't even have to― we won't even call you my girlfriend or anything. Just hold my hand for, like, an hour."

"An hour? You're greedy!"

"Alright, thirty minutes."

"Fifteen."

"Twenty-five!"

You huff out a sigh. You've never been able to deny Seungkwan, not even on your best days. "Fine. But you owe me."

You're already thinking of what you might want to cash in as the two of you roll up to your destination for the night: The dreaded high school reunion, where everyone who's anyone is gearing up to boast about their lives. Seungkwan has been single since his tumultuous relationship with She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and you can't even blame him for his petty need to prove a point.

At the door of the speakeasy, the two of you share a look.

"Ready?" he asks, holding out his hand.

With a heatless glare, you take it. Your fingers slot into the spaces between his, the same way it has a couple dozen times before this. "Twenty-five minutes," you say.

There's a hint of a smirk on your best friend's face as he pulls open the entrance for the two of you. "Don't worry," he says. "I'm already counting down in my head."

Seungkwan holds your hand as the two of you make your way to your designated table. He waves at old friends with his free hand; sometimes with your clasped hands, as if showing it off. Every so often, he'll mumble to you under his breath. Seven minutes. Thirteen minutes.

You're so caught up in the feeling of his warm palm against yours that you completely neglect one very important thing.

The dinner has started, and Seungkwan is seated at your side― your joined hands over one of his thighs― and only then do you realize. You lean in so that your mouth is by his ear, keeping your voice low amid the thrum of conversation and the faint pop music in the background. "Kwan, she's not here."

As if on instinct, Seungkwan squeezes your hand. He hums a quiet 'hm?' back, tilting his head so you can whisper a little easier.

"Your ex," you hiss. "She's not here, you idiot."

"Huh?"

Seungkwan surreptitiously glances down the table. Sure enough, the girl that had broken his heart is nowhere in sight to witness your little stunt. "Oh," he says, his tone quiet and stunned. His gaze briefly flicks to your intertwined fingers. "I didn't even notice."

Despite yourself, your heart does a little kick-flip in your chest. You clear your throat, just enough to say, "Right. Well."

"Right. I guess―" Seungkwan starts, and he makes the most half-hearted effort to disentangle from you. It's laughable.

It gives you the courage to suddenly say, "You know how you owe me?"

He pauses in the middle of pulling away. "You're cashing in already?" he inquires, that smirk from earlier making a reappearance.

"Yeah." You shift slightly, just to make sure your fingers are still snugly fit between his. With a boldness that you could applaud yourself for, you say, "I want you to hold my hand for the rest of the night, Kwan."

The smirk morphs into a smile. His fingers hold yours just a little bit tighter, because Seungkwan was never one to deny you, either. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.

"Yes, ma'am," he says, and he makes good on that promise.

୨ৎ * GAME, SET, PLAY ! ( JEALOUSY ) DRABBLE GAME.

[riririnnnn]

I have this foreboding feeling that while we are prepared for Sae's and Shidou's backstory, Nagi's backstory is going to sneak from behind and punch us in the gut.

No, I don't think it's going to be straight up depression like Kaiser's, but I do think that it'll hit close to home.

You see, Nagi got Laissez-faire parents which means they never really interfered with his life. Like, these type of parents—as I have read on some websites—will basically set their child free and let them do whatever they want with no or very few rules/restrictions. They will not tell you, "Oh! You should do this!" or "Oh! You shouldn't do this!" They will simply let you figure out your life all by yourself.

I'm not an expert on this and I'm not calling this type of parenting bad in any way. Every child is different with different needs, and I'm sure there are many who grew up in this kinda family and liked this parenting method. However, I do think that Nagi didn't like it that much, and I got two reasons to think this way:

1. "That's nice."

When Reo said that his family constantly meddles in his life, Nagi's immediate reaction was, "That's nice" instead of being surprised or disgruntled. If Nagi really liked his parents NOT meddling in his life, then he should've said something like, "Really!? Sucks to be you, Reo. I can't imagine living a life like that!"

You getting me?

Also, we all know how Nagi is—he definitely feels that telling someone to do or not to do something is a hassle, so he, probably, feels that if someone is doing all this for you, then you are important for them.

And before any one says, no, I don't think Nagi was tying up his tongue thinking, "They are his parents. They wouldn't want anything bad for their own child, right? I shouldn't say anything against them and should say good things about them just to be safe." I don't think he has this kind of filter in him.

2. "Don't die ."

So, why would you not want someone to die? Of course, because you care for them and want them to be with you.

"Want"

That's really what I'm tryna highlight.

It's a pretty common knowledge that some children are just naturally more independent while others are a bit more dependent and seek guidance from the elders. Considering Nagi's first reaction to knowing about Reo's parents' meddling, I think that Kiddo!Nagi falls into the latter category—someone who likes to be guided and helped by the adults. Now, place Kiddo!Nagi with his Laissez-faire parents... You are getting where I'm going with this one?

That's why I think that Kiddo!Nagi, probably, thought that his parents didn't love him/care for him. And what happens if someone doesn't love you or care for you? Yeah, they don't care if you die which, somewhat, explains why Older!Nagi was happy to hear, "Don't die [before us (probably)]" from his parents.

I have already talked about his potential backstory before too, so it was actually when I heard he had longer bangs as a child that made my head turn to him again—something felt odd.

I understand that having long bangs is not a big deal—Niko's bangs literally cover his eyes, but having it as a kid is way different, y'know. Once you are like 12-13, you somewhat become capable of doing your own hair and clothes by yourself, so you can manage whatever aesthetics you prefer. However, for a kid younger than that, it's the parents' responsibility to look after his/her hair and clothes, and we all know that long bangs are quite bothersome—blocks our vision, sometimes stabs the eyes, and even irritatingly itches the nose.

All in all, till his backstory drops, I'd firmly believe that he was, though unintentionally, a neglected kid—at least, emotionally.

Now I can't get this image out of my head where Kiddo!Nagi is longingly staring at other kids in a park where everyone is learning things like riding a bicycle or maybe playing baseball and stuff with their parents while he is just.. there, probably, all alone.

[xthedevilscircusx]

Lucifer cursed under his breath, but he can't exactly be mad at Alastor. This isn't his fault. This is the gluttony ring. He already knew there might be side effects from eating and staying here for too long. Despite his slight annoyance when he got a good look at Alastor again, he begins to laugh. Damn, he would have taken a picture, but he knows the other would just distort it. It's a shame because if he tells Charlie about this, he doubts she will ever believe him.

"Fine. Whatever floats your boat." Lucifer can already tell he would regret it, but he wasn't going to fight with someone who is clearly out of their mind.

So with that, the king bought pretty much all the damn beignets which he had to carry out in a huge box. All the while the imp is dragged along through the whole interaction.

When he got Alastor his damn pastries he went back for the hellhound and evidence that was left behind. He used the same chains to bound the imp and hound together so he can easily escort them back to Pride via guards.

"Damn it, I really was hoping it wouldn't be one of mine. What a bummer!" Bee is standing outside talking to Lucifer, while his Radio Demon is eating---still.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it was an imp to. Most likely one of mine, but I'm going to have to take the hellhound with me to Pride, I'm sure you understand why."

Bee sighed, "Yeah no need to explain. He's yours." She peeked over Lucifer's shoulder to Alastor. "uuuh is he going to be alright?"

Lucifer shook his head, "Not sure if 'alright' is the best word to use, but once we get back to Pride, he should be normal again. Sinners apparently are just as affected here as any hellborn."

[rosesgardenworld]

I'm bored and it's like 2 am I got work in 4 hours but we ain't sleeping chat🔥🔥🗣️🗣️ so here's some Mouthwashing Head canons!

Captain Curly🎉

100% was a performing arts kid in Highschool either band or orchestra, probably played the viola or was in pit for marching band.

Only child but always wanted siblings.

Did college for 2 years then dropped out, he originally wanted to be an astronomy teacher but couldn't afford the tuition.

Back on earth he's a frequent gym rat. Not one of those annoying gym bros but he goes often.

Has a Scottish or some kind of accent.

He hates places that are super humid because they make his hair puff up like no tomorrow.

Smells like citrus and oak aftershave.

Anya🌟

She did theatre in highschool but was on tech crew.

Before pony Express she was a teachers aid for a kindergarten class. It didn't pay enough so she got on the ship in hopes it would pay for her nursing school.

She's an amazing cook. She can cook but not bake the last time she baked she burnt it so bad she thought it caught on fire.

I can't explain it but I feel like she has a small southern accent don't @ me guys.

Grew up in Tennessee she has three siblings she's the oldest out of all of them.

Both her parents worked which put her in a motherly role which is why it's sort of a default for her.

She sees Daisuke as a little brother.

Smells like the strawberry pound cake perfume from bed bath and body works.

Daisuke🌺

He had braces from 6th grade to his junior year of highschool.

He did art in highschool.

He got his Hawaiian shirt from his older sister when she went off to college.

He has one older sister.

He paints his nail occasionally.

A GOD at DDR (Dance dance revolution) and nobody can convince me otherwise.

100% worked at an arcade before joining the pony Express.

Sees Anya as an older sister.

His parents always asked why he couldn't be more like his sister.

He smells like the sugar sweet perfume from Victoria's secret.

No accent but he's from LA California.

Jomathan

Smells like axe body spray and sweat.

Doesn't wash his clothes until he can smell it.

Has had the same shoes for 4 years.

A firm believer in 5 second rule.

Only child but was okay with that.

Was never told no as a kid.

Hiiiii I hope y'all enjoyed this first run though of mouthwashing head canons! If you have any requests PLEASE drop me some. I'll do NSFW but I will not write NSFW for swansea or anything for jimmy. I can do platonic stuff for swansea just not romantic he looks too much like my dad guys :/ ANYWAYS I hope y'all have a good day/night be good people 💗💗

[hotvintagepoll]

Donald O'Connor (Singin' in the Rain, Francis, Call Me Madam)— LOOK AT HIM. Those giant blue peepers. Those tappy tappy little feet that don't quit. The ears that stick out like little wings, ready to lift him up to goofy heaven. The way his face contorts into the strangest yet most endearing expressions. His ability to sing and dance alongside the hunk that is Gene Kelly and yet pull all attention away with his big-eyed buffoonery. The way his energy is unmatched in songs like "Make 'em laugh" - bouncing off the walls and tumbling through the air straight into my cold cold heart. Who else but a true scrungly lil guy would sit upon the witness stand and defend a talking mule with all the love and affection in the world - staring out into the court room with his bright wide eyes and eternally mouse-like expression, openly admitting that the mule is his best friend?!??! I see him and I want to pull him from the screen into my hand and just squiiiiiiiiiiiiish with all my might. I want to pinch his cheeks and have him bat those eyes at me. He just makes me go "eeehehehehehe" every time I see him and his silly little self. He is pure chaotic, ridiculous, scrungly perfection!

Rene Auberjonois (Brewster McCloud)—I feel like anyone who was in a Robert Altman movie should count as scrungly, and this guy was in many a Robert Altman movie.

This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here. Reminder this is a poll about old films, not TV, and no TV based propaganda will be accepted.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Donald O'Connor:

My silliest little guy. My funnyman. My horsie. I have watched many a bad movie for this man. The scrungliest fact I know about him is that he was supposed to star as Danny Kaye's role in the iconic White Christmas (1954), as he had known Bing Crosby since he was a child, but couldn't because he caught a mule disease while working on those Francis the Talking Mule films Universal endlessly made him do. I wouldn't exactly recommend those movies, but Don's character getting psychologically tormented by a sardonic mule does make for quite a good movie night, if you know what you're getting into. Are You With It? is another one I don't exactly recommend, but it does open with Donald as a math genius actuary who is about to kill himself over a displaced decimal point before getting taken in by a traveling carny instead. His more well-known and beloved roles have plenty of scrungliness too, in my opinion. This man slapsticked so hard he wound up bedridden for his physical exertion! Rather than submitting Make 'Em Laugh, which the electorate has likely already seen (I hope), I'm submitting an underrated dance number of his, where he explains maths through tap dance. That movie is Not good, but god do I love him in that role.

I think it's arguably very scrungly to seemingly be a real life cartoon character made out of rubber, as proven by how slapsticky the list of scrunglies is so far. In which case, Donald O'Connor? He scrungles supremely. He even played Buster Keaton in a movie (that apparently can't be recommended, but still).

Rene Auberjonois:

[sunshinetomioka]

He also said Jayvik was a bromance (which is a term I really dislike as I've always seen it used by cis men to discredit mlm ship) and now homophobic fans are using it as an "own" (you can't tell me he didn't know it would have this effect)

And like in all good faith we need to take a step back and realise a lot of (again) cishet men who are "ok" with Caitvi as a ship but against Jayvik because (according to them) it has no logic and that it's just bromance (and now adding the asexual part) are homophobic and riot never really tried to do something about it.

You just gotta see how they treated K'sante, barely writing a good lore about him, just throwing in there he had a boyfriend and just completely ignored him during the heartsteel era. Like cool there's a bunch of lesbian but honestly I'm wary about it since LoL is mostly aiming at cishet dudes like... Arcane did make a lesbian ship not sexualised and feel like an actual real couple but there's lot of underlying homophobia in the community.

Also back on the literal ableism, I've seen people explain that Viktor was aroace cuz he ignored Sky (?????) and was too focused on hextech (he was literally trying to save himself from dying ???) and yet they'll say that if you don't have the vision then you didn't see well ??? And it's also something I've seen talked about with Jinx :///

Sorry for ranting on your post OP :') it's just so frustrating.

I'm not a fan of Viktor being asexual because that reinforces a lot of stereotypes about this community.

Apparently the co-creator of Arcane said that Viktor is asexual right after the show ended and people started shipping jayvik... Sorry but it looks weird!! Are you trying to stop people from shipping these characters? Because it won't stop!

You know, disabled people, people with autism and people with mental illness are often portrayed as asexual because they think they're incapable of falling in love or that they don't deserve to be loved. Furthermore, with disabled people reinforce the idea that they aren't desirable. People can't imagine the idea of them having sex, enjoying intimacy.

Sex education condemned that with Isaac's character!!

I mean sure, it's okay to headcanon Viktor as asexual (more if you are asexual, we need more ace representation), but I don't think the co-creator of the show is doing that in good faith. I'm pretty sure he doesn't know that asexual people can fall in love, have a partner and even had sex (obviously depends on the person).

Also, sure make the guy in your show dealing with no feeling emotions and become some kind of machine the ace representation of your show, how original! Never seen before!!

[lumineary-arts]

Can you explain more about the Thuzi relationship in your murder drone swap au please? I am in LOVE with your AU and while i am a Nuzi shipper for life, i am interested how Thad and Uzi relationship is like with them being in V and N’s role respectively.

This is gonna be a DOOOOZY so sit back and enjoy the essay!

Back in the mansion, Thad and Uzi 100% had mutual crushes on each other. Uzi was the tomboyish maid who didn't always love doing her duties and she ESPECIALLY didn't like being bossed around, but there were a few things making it worth it. For one, there was her bond with Nori, there was the fact she needed to look after Doll, and then there was Thad.

In the mansion he was always super friendly and chill. Very outgoing despite their situation. Even though Lizzy gave her shit a lot of the time just for being.. her, Thad was extremely kind to Uzi. He'd lightly flirt with her a lot, they bonded over her interests, and it was obvious to both of them that they had a good thing going.

When their memories got wiped and they got turned into Disassembly Drones, his personality seemed to do a 180. All of a sudden, though he was still outgoing and flirty, he was also violent, smug and acted, for a lack of a better term, like a douche. She still liked him though, she felt like she could kinda see beyond that. I mean.. sure they spent less time together, given how he spends a lot more time ripping the entrails out of whatever poor worker drone he set his eyes on... but he was still Thad. They had a.. thing going on... she thinks. She can't remember. But, she still liked him.

But when she met N, this sweet and nerdy worker drone who actually got along with her really well and seemed to always have his heart in the right place, she really started to tolerate Thad's "bully" behavior towards him a lot less. N wasn't really throwing punches back in Thad's way so that made it hard to watch. She was usually the mediator between them and being way more hot-headed than N was, she often got into arguments with Thad every time it happened. By Episode 3, she realized she wasn't crushing on him like she was before.

Even with that though, she still cared about him so much. When he sacrifices himself in Episode 6 she's beside herself. Overall, Thad's still extremely important to her and she does love him, just not in the same way she did before. They're very very close to this day.

On Thad's end of things, his personality change after their transformation was more of a facade than anything. He took on a violent, macho persona because it made him feel safer and more in control of himself, even though he still had the traumatizing memories of the mansion. He remembered Uzi and their mutual crushes, his feelings for her hadn't went away. But for whatever reason, he found it was easier to push those emotions away because they just reminded him of the mansion and what Doll did. And THAT, he couldn't handle.

He prioritized killing worker drones because in some ways, it was fun and he was at the top of the food chain. If he did that, he'd survive, so would Uzi and Lizzy, and he could get a sadistic kick out of ripping his prey apart. Something that he used to cope. This was his life now, he might as well enjoy it.

But then there came N, convincing Uzi to make peace with the worker drones and somehow Thad ended up.. "allying" with them in a way. N was scrawny and an easy target and so obviously had a thing for Uzi, it was lowkey annoying. Thad played along with their truce, but he still took the opportunities to mess with and pick on N since he felt a weird bit of antagonistic hostility toward the little guy.

I think Thad could sense Uzi's feelings for him fade over time, with every moment he stayed uncooperative and antagonistic, and it lowkey saddened him. But he couldn't really change how he was acting. It was his way of coping and if it meant losing Uzi overtime, then.. so be it.

But luckily for him, she never seemed to wanna drop him completely. She still cared about him and he still cared about her. His romantic feelings for her faded over time, especially after she and N started dating for real. Besides, he's alive, they're still friends, he has another friend in J.. he can finally kinda start living a normal life.

So they're good. He and Uzi are alive, and they're good. <3

chat its 2am does any of this make sense to you

[kchasm]

Ryu Number: Albert Schweitzer

Albert Schweitzer was a German-born philosopher, theologian, and physician. His personal philosophy was based around the idea of "reverence for life": He believed that there was nothing of the objective world itself that evinced any innate meaning or ethical quality, and that the world was composed of life seeking to sustain itself, which occurred at the expense of other lives. Schweitzer proposed a system of ethics founded on a thoughtful and constant awareness of the reverence for life—all living things—from which should result the effort—through actions—to strengthen and develop it. In short: It was good to maintain and further life and it was bad to damage and destroy life, and one ought to commit to the former as much as possible while minimizing the latter as much as could be managed.

…Did I explain that all right? I don't feel like I got that all right, not really. I suspect I'm mangling the guy's principles here in some way, and I can't do a lot more than apologize. I might not have failed my philosophy classes in university, but I can't honestly say I aced them, either. Just sort of floated through while managing to keep my head above water,

Anyway, praxis manifested itself notably in his running of a hospital in French Equatorial Africa (later Gabon)—founded originally in 1913 before World War I broke out and, as a German citizen in French territory, he was removed. He returned to the hospital in 1924, and headed its operation until his death in 1965.

Yeah, all of that was really heavy, wasn't it? If you want to take a moment before crossing the readmore, I totally understand.

If you didn't already know, here's where you learn that both Ryu and Darth Vader show up as guest fighters in Brawlhalla. There's always someone who doesn't know about Brawlhalla, and I love letting them know that Brawlhalla exists. (Rayman is there too.)

Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga includes a trailer for the then-upcoming Lego Indiana Jones video game. Watch it, and you can buy Indiana Jones from the shop. And then play as him, of course.

Dude's a bit clean-shaven, but it's him. He's got the whip and everything.

The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles was a TV show based on, uh, well, the chronicles of young Indiana Jones. These semi-edutainment stories would usually see Indy getting tangentially involved with real-life historical events and meeting momentarily with real-life historical figures. The episodes were later edited and released across three DVD sets as The Adventures of Young Indiana Jones, each the sets including a DVD-ROM that let you install a slightly more educational computer game version of one of the stories in the set.

Quality-wise, these games are a little, uh.

Also Indiana's really blond in these for some reason.

Still counts, though. Including the parts where questionably drawn Indiana gets to meet the various questionably drawn historical figures.

(Incidentally, for his work, Albert Schweitzer got the Nobel Peace Prize in 1952. This makes him one among a surprisingly large number of Nobel Peace Prize laureates with Ryu Numbers. Larger than you'd think, I'd mean. Or at least larger than you'd think if I asked you to guess how many Nobel Peace Prize laureates had Ryu Numbers and then told you you had only five seconds to answer.)

(It's more than ten, anyway.)