#Just a pinch of angst :)

[lowkeiloki]

cousins...

[bcrcavcd]

She wants to argue. She wants to state that everything was fine, and that she could keep going. Or that the ground was too hard and she wouldn't be able to sleep anyway. But that was a lie, there was no way it would seem truthful. She had been awake not just for a day, but for however long she had been here. There was no time to sleep, something might happen. She needed to plan what she needed to do next, and whatever sounded in the night was too much to sleep around.

All of these things were excuses. Maybe they were good ones, but Wendy couldn't keep doing this to herself. Now that she had someone else around to help her, someone that likely didn't have the same needs as she did. And if there was anyone she could trust, it would have to be Abigail, right?

And then, the flower is presented to her. It felt like the most important gift that she had ever received. There was something that felt safer about having it. It felt as though, in case something were to happen, Wendy would be able to call Abigail back, whenever she needed to. She would treasure this for as long as she were able. The cut flower would not wilt, instead acting as a testament to their commitment to protect each other.

As Wendy was unable to do so long ago...

With the bit of stem that remains, she pokes a hole into her shirt. It wasn't as though she'd be able to change into much, no matter how dirty she felt, so this addition felt as though it would be permanent. With that hole, the young lady makes sure the flower is completely secure, seeming contented with her decision.

"There... That way, I'll always have it with me," Wendy replies, offering a tired smile.

Once she says this, she finally moves to lay on the ground. It's not as comfortable as a bed might be, but it would suffice, especially for what she could do in that moment. Maybe there was some sort of bedding she could make, but for the moment it wasn't all that important.

"Good night, Abigail..." she finally states, when she closes her eyes and tries to fall into the throes of rest.

abigail nods enthusiastically. that’s one upside of everything about this situation: she might get cool undead bonuses! well, she hopes. it would be a little lame if she’d operate the same as being alive while not being alive. if she has to go along with this horrible exchange, then she might as well be compensated for it! at least, it would make sense.

the departed twin puts a hand to her chin, contemplating for a moment. “i’ll have to try a little bit of everything, i guess. i don’t know how to do any of that stuff outright… you might have to teach me how, ‘cause you’re smart and figured it out on your own. i don’t mind the leggy lil guys, but squishing them is a little tricky because they’re fast. there’s probably another curveball in this stupid pl…ace… ”

abigail trails off as she notices her counterpart’s exhaustion—it’s the physical kind, not just the sad kind. her face falls into a look of concern. wordlessly, she gets on her hands and knees and crawls over to wendy. the ghost settles at her sister’s side, gently nudging her shoulder.

“hey… you’ve had a long day. you’re gonna fizzle your brain if you keep thinking,” abigail softly murmurs, “y’can sleep right here if you want. i’ll make sure the fire doesn’t die down.”

a pause. abigail is a child. she doesn’t wholly understand everything about the situation, but she knows that words can be fragile when alone. that’s why pinky promises exist, after all. so, she reaches up and touches the flower in her hair nervously, at first, but if wendy’s right… abigail pulls, and the object dislodges itself from her head. it rests in her hand, thrumming, and she has a strange sense of ease despite it being like she’s holding her own heart.

abigail extends her hand and presents the flower to wendy.

“ here, take it. i’m not gonna go anywhere, i promise. ”

[cafe--tables]

YAY

[trebuchet151]

This is jumping the queue bc some really cool people reblogged my last post of Corey and they escaped containment.

Updated sidestep design perpetual WIP

Sidestep days vs retribution. They're slowly reacquiring their self expression. Next book will probably be the full return of the scene/punk look

Bonus Corey sans most of their clothing to show off their tattoos under the cut. CW for healed SH scars

Yes that is Ortega's bedroom yes I half assed it. I drew this background in my car at work when it was like 110 degrees idgaf

[gingerteaonthetardis]

Autumnal doctor/rose, i lov it! How about ninerose and some alien hot cider?

thank you so much for this prompt, nonny! <3 hope you enjoy the fluff! and as always, please forgive any mistakes. i am my own worst grammatical enemy.

[read on AO3]

"That can't be right."

Through the doorway, he watched Rose laugh as she dumped yet another fistful of pseudocinnamon into a giant cauldron. The TARDIS had dug both out of storage—or generated them spontaneously, the Doctor suspected. He certainly would have noticed the cauldron before: the thing was massive, a piping hot shade of orange that assaulted the eyes, tall enough that Rose could barely see over the rim after hauling it up onto the hob. It was so fanciful and absurd he couldn't believe it was supposed to be functional.

It was also exactly what Rose had asked for.

Could hardly be a coincidence, could it?

You spoil her, he thought with a brief, mild accusatory glance upward. But he was not favoured with so much as a blinking light.

Typical.

The Doctor had always known the TARDIS had favourites, but he'd never in all his lives experienced such blatant, unrepentant spoiling of a travelling companion! The first time he'd seen Rose's bedroom—or, more accurately, palatial bedroom suite—he'd been gobsmacked. Her bed was enormous, at least twice the size of his. Though he wasn't much for throw pillows, hardly any aboard the ship had escaped the journey to Rose's bed; it was a miracle she could sit on the thing, let alone sleep there. And the eightieth century hi-fi teledeck?

No longer the centrepiece of the media room.

Which he was still sulking about.

But this was a new level of indulgence. The ship didn't just create matter out of nothing; everything had to come from somewhere—usually her vast stores of past rooms. To come up with something completely new involved energy transference. Effort. Time.

And, to create something as specific as a garish orange cooking cauldron? Care.

Shaking his head, he stepped inside the little galley kitchen. He'd followed his nose thus far, but the scent grew even more potent the moment he passed the threshold and into the sweltering heat of the narrow space.

"What do you mean?" Rose was asking, turning to look at him with big, worried eyes. Her cheeks were flushed from the heat, nose and lips a berry pink. "This is exactly what the barista told me to do!" She rapidly dusted off her palms, a cloud of warm brown powder dispersing into the air, carrying with it the spicy, faintly floral scent of the cloned cinnamon root native to Chame. It made his nose itch. "Why would he lie?"

The Doctor scoffed. "To keep you coming back, Rose! All the way across the charted universe—dragging me and my poor ship with you—just to get your hands on the real thing," he said, with a grumbling noise of displeasure as punctuation. "Probably a bit of clever salesmanship."

Rose's smile slipped a little, prompting an unpleasant dip in his own stomach. It wasn't fair to her, him being so obviously jaded.

After all, the barista had been perfectly nice. To Rose.

Specifically.

"Was that a harrumph? Did you just harrumph at me?" Rose's head cocked, and the grin she set loose on him was a true blue Rose Tyler special, top to bottom: eyes sparkling, tongue curled around her teeth, and with a certain jaunty angle to her chin that told him she was gloating for some reason he didn't want to think too hard about, lest he actually find out what in the world she meant by it.

"Here, put this on. You can help," she said, turning to withdraw—from one of the kitchen's many and dangerously full drawers—an apron that didn't quite match her own. Hers had cheerful, smiling Jack-o'-lanterns all over a white backdrop, nestled amidst illustrations of autumn leaves and lit candles and seasonally appropriate candies that nobody he'd ever met actually enjoyed.

His apron... also had pumpkins on it.

"Oi! Is that s'posed to be me?"

He snatched the article from her hands, pulling it up to look closer at the frowny, grumpy-looking illustrations dotting the black fabric. The eyes and mouths of the Jack-o'-lanterns were slightly puckered, like someone had left the pumpkins out in rough weather for a few days, and it gave them a uniformly sour, Scrooge-like expression.

His gaze narrowed, and Rose pressed her lips together, like she desperately didn't want to laugh. "Don't look like that," she managed, raising her hands. "I just asked her for aprons."

The Doctor scowled, even as a part of him perked up. Aprons, plural. Had she wanted him to join her all this time? Why hadn't she said anything?

"Anyway, don't worry," she went on carelessly, "nobody's here to see you in it."

You are, he thought in spite of himself.

His eyes followed her as she took back the apron and motioned for him to bend so she could drape it around his neck. The brush of her jumper-clad arms against his hair made the tips of his ears tingle and grow warm, and he ducked his head nearly to his chest in sudden awkwardness. The few moments it took for her to make a knot would give him just enough time to get hold of his rebellious—not to mention ridiculous—biology, he decided.

Don't be daft, came his stern internal voice.

There. Job done.

When he righted himself, Rose was beaming. "I dunno," she said, tipping her head this way and that, observing him, her ponytail flopping about. "I think it works for you."

"Do you now?" He looked down at the frowning pumpkins spread across his chest; they were even more wrinkled and unpleasant viewed upside-down.

But if Rose thought differently...

"Yeah." She nodded more definitely. "Very good look."

Well, then.

-

Making the cider took more time but was somehow less involved than it seemed Rose had expected.

Aside from grinding up all the pseudocinnamon and quartering the apples—they hadn't picked up any authentic Autogolds on their last grocery stop, but had some lovely Galas to hand—the other steps were quick and simple. Most of the process was a load of hurry up and wait.

Which left them with little to do but hover around the cauldron, breathing in the steam and knocking hips when they got too close. Which was often.

"What's so great about this cider anyway?" the Doctor finally asked, after a few moments of grinning at one another across the cauldron. He dipped the wooden spoon in for another sample, wondering when he'd suddenly taste what made it special enough for Rose to go to all this effort.

He remembered the overly-friendly barista, smiling with all his teeth. He remembered walking around the market stalls afterwards, Rose beaming and pointing out every little thing that caught her eye while the sun set. He remembered sudden warm pressure—how she hid her face against his shoulder when a stiff wind blew through the courtyard, setting all the beads in the jewelers' tents tinkling and flashing. There were no skittering leaves to speak of, but the whole scene had given a passable impression of a mild Earth autumn day.

It had been a good day, yes. But the cider had been rather ordinary.

Rose nudged his hip again, then deftly pulled the spoon from his hand. "Stop messing with it, or it's never gonna brew right. We're s'posed to let it sit." She replaced the lid, closing in the steam and the gentle sound of simmering. Then she sighed. "I dunno. The barista told me all the ingredients and how to make it and it all seemed fairly normal, I guess, but there was just something about it—comforting. Couldn't put my finger on why. Maybe because it was such a perfect day," she added absently, fiddling with the hem of her apron.

The Doctor stilled. "Perfect?"

When he looked at her face, her eyes were on the floor. "Yeah. Think it was."

"Not... boring?" he asked, wishing she'd look up at him. But she was just crossing one foot over another, concentrating on her shoelaces. He wondered why.

After they'd dropped Adam off on Earth, he recalled with a scowl, he had gone a bit mad with the easy trips. Just a little break, he called it. But their "break" had turned into weeks of short stops on interesting—but more importantly, peaceful—worlds. Playing tourists.

At first, neither of them had really known what to do with themselves in these sorts of places. Relaxation was anathema. And Rose had been around long enough to know you never took off your running shoes, not ever, so she didn't quite let her guard down either. They'd wandered around, taking in the sights—Rose was never short on curiosity and clever questions—but it was always with their backs up. Ready for anything. It was a vigilance neither exactly knew how to shrug off.

Especially after he'd nearly lost her.

And she knew it.

They would meet each other's eyes and just know what the other was thinking of. The Dalek, the laser to the back of her head. Incomplete goodbyes over a staticky video. And the fear in her eyes when he'd run toward her with a gun in his hands. He hadn't felt that kind of shame in... a long, long while.

But they'd survived.

It took every moment of those two weeks to make him believe it. And it was only once they landed on Chame, in that market—so familiar, so Earth-like, and yet so different—that the calm finally found them. Arm in arm, meandering through a crowd with warm cups of cider in their hands. He'd realised then he wasn't waiting for the next thing to come around the corner. And neither was she.

Time had passed since that day on Chame. Back to the old life. The adventures. Neither of them could bear to stand still for long, or rest on their laurels. There were so many worlds needed saving, where time and tide of history had to be set right. It was never-ending.

It was their life.

But not the only part. Was that why she wanted to recreate the cider?

"No," Rose said after a moment. "Not boring. Not for me." She finally looked up, eyes soft. Shrugging helplessly. "Could never get bored with you."

The Doctor swallowed. Her proximity was like gravity.

He felt himself tipping into it. Giving in to it. Hands lifting to settle on her arms. and his head falling forward, lips coming to rest gently on her crown. Her hair smelled like apples and cinnamon and warm human.

It would have been impossible for him to say it, but he had no doubt she knew.

That day hadn't been boring for him either. It had been... more than good.

It had been perfect. The day's very ordinariness made it unusual, standing out like a burning star amidst their murkier, often more difficult travels. Its simplicity—its uncomplicated pleasures—made it rare and maybe even worth recreating. Sometimes.

"All right, then," he said. "We'll have cider." He couldn't say all he felt, couldn't tell her he understood, because he didn't know exactly what he felt. Like a pinching deep within him, clenching tight around his hearts. The Dalek had called it love; his people might have called it foolishness.

All the Doctor knew was, he wanted more perfect days with her.

[timechange]

MCFLY JULY ‘24 — “don’t need money, don’t take fame.”

APRIL 28, 2011

“Dad?”

Marty is never, ever gonna get tired of hearing that. He immediately stops, setting his pen down and the freshly signed CDs aside and giving his full attention to Emmett, who is hanging around the doorway like he still isn’t sure, after almost thirteen years, if he’s allowed to come in.

“Hey, kiddo,” Marty greets warmly, his son flashing him a small smile. “What’s goin’ on?”

Emmett looks around before stepping inside, and Marty is reminded of when Ellie, after input from Jules and Verne, assigned everyone animals when she was nine. Uncle Doc’s a mantis shrimp, she’d proclaimed, Auntie Clara’s a bear, Dad’s a whale, Mom’s a raven, and Emmett’s a pangolin! While he’s not sure about the rest of her picks, her choice for her brother… Yeah, at times like this he can see the resemblance.

“Dad…” he tries again. “Dad, did we ruin your life?”

Marty’s kind of glad his abject, heart shattering horror at that statement coming from his son outweighs his impulse to laugh in disbelief at a statement that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Of course not,” he reassures, opening his arms just in case his boy didn’t feel like he was too big for a hug. His son folds himself into him, burying his head in his shoulder. “The day you and Ellie were born,” Marty tells him, rubbing his back, “was pretty much the best day of my life.”

“…Even though Mom almost broke your hand?” Emmett asks, voice muffled, and Marty laughs.

“Yeah, even then. Y’know, if I could go back,” which he could, but his boy didn’t need to know that right yet, “I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Emmett starts to pull away and Marty lets him go, but still holds him at arm’s length.

“Now,” father asks son, “where’s all this coming from, huh? You’re not hanging around that Tannen kid again, are you?”

Emmett’s face twists in disgust.

“No, Dad, are you nuts? That whole family’s crazy.”

“Attaboy,” Marty says proudly.

“...I found some of your old concert videos on YouTube,” Emmett finally admits. “And Dad… you look like you’re havin’ the time of your life. How come you gave it all up? It was because of us, wasn’t it?” His brown eyes are big and watery and Marty squeezes his shoulders.

“Aw, Em,” Marty sighs. “I had a blast on tour, you’re right. Hangin’ out with the guys, getting to see the world… It was a lot of fun for a while, but when it stopped being fun, we quit. And I have a blast here, too, with you and your sister and your mom. If you ask me… that right there’s the adventure of a lifetime. I love music, and I’m always gonna play music, but it was never about any kinda fame or fortune for me.” What would superstardom be like? He can barely keep up with the merch and the interviews and the producers and the long nights at the recording studios and the music videos as it is. He’d hate being so far away from home, never getting a moment’s peace, never being able to breathe.

“Then… what was it about?” Emmett asks.

“Believing in myself,” Marty says after a moment of thought. “Getting my voice heard. Y’know, I was a lot like you when I was your age.”

“Really?” Emmett breathes, awestruck, as if unable to conceive such a thing. “But everybody says you’re like Ellie.”

“And I am.” It takes the wind out of him sometimes, how similar he and his daughter are. She’s just as fiery, just as creative, just as stubborn. Everyone’s always thought that, just like how people have always compared Emmett to Jennifer. But when he looks at his daughter, so often he sees his wife’s determination and intelligence, and when he looks at his son… sometimes he has to double check he’s not in the DeLorean.

“But I’m also like you, Em. It’s hard as hell being a kid, y’know? I remember. You got so many ideas and so many thoughts and you feel like you’re in this world that you don’t really understand yet and that’s gonna shoot you down every chance it gets. I just wanted somebody to see me, but that’s a scary thing. I tried real hard to pretend like I was tough and to make like I wasn’t afraid of anything… but I was terrified, kid. Still am, sometimes.” Marty rubs the back of his neck. “What I’m trying to say is, it’s okay not to be sure of yourself yet, and it’s okay to be open about your feelings. And whenever you wanna talk, I’m here for you, and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. Got it?”

“Got it.” Emmett smiles and hugs him again. “I love you, Dad.”

“Love you too. So damn much.” Marty kisses the top of his son’s head and ruffles his dirty blond hair, which is immediately greeted with protest.

[openphrase123]

i was slightly worried that running inutile and the isabeau angst document concurrently would feel too angst same-y because they're both fics that deal with deep dives into the insecurities of the narrator

but oh boy they could not be more different the more i get into the isabeau document

[giggly-squiggily]

Returning The Favor (Blue Lock)

Hi hello welcome to Squiggily's Self Indulgent Time- in which I had a severe craving for Kunigiri and decided to write it. These two make me so freaking soft and I just- words can't form for how much I love them, you know? I hope you like it! :D

Cloud 9 (Taglist Peeps):

CW: Swearing, {Part 3: medical-based nightmares, panic and anxiety attacks}, mild angst

@cupcake-spice13, @myreygn

Summary: 4 times Kunigami tickled Chigiri and the one time he managed to return the favor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1.)

Lights flicked on overhead like a window being drawn open- a chorus of tired groans and curses followed soon after. Kunigami yawned as he sat up-running a hand through his orange bed head as he watched Team Z around him begin to wake.

It was always so interesting to him watching people wake up. You had your early risers who were up well before the lights- Kuon was gently rousing a wrinkle faced Naruhaya awake with the promise of breakfast while Isagi stood, stretching his arms out and making his back pop in a series of satisfying cracks.

Then you had those who hated mornings with a passion. Raichi was cursing up a storm, face pressed in his pillow as he struggled to wake up. Gagamaru looked positively dead, a curtain of hair blocking his violent expression as he scratched at his buttcheek.

Then there were the ones who needed help waking up. A LOT of it.

“Oi, Princess; rise and shine.” Kunigami turned to the mound of blankets beside him, red hair poking out the top like his sister’s Troll dolls. For someone so graceful when he was awake, sleeping Chigiri was a disaster. Soft snores could be heard beneath the sheets, the mound raising and falling slowly with each breath he took. It was almost hilarious how heavy Chigiri slept; the world could be ending and he’d simply turn over and keep snoring. Sometimes the guys joke about him “Only waking up after true love’s kiss”.

While Kunigami rather liked that idea, he had an even better plan of attack.

“Princess…” Kunigami crawled over, gently prying the blanket off his boyfriend.The other made a noise of quiet scorn, frowning in his sleep as he curled up further against the morning chill. “It’s time for breakfast. Hurry before there’s nothing left.”

In response, Chigiri turned over, snuggling on his back with a sleepy sigh. The ginger shook his head, unable to fight down a smile.

“Alright- you asked for it.” He grinned, eyes landing on the sliver of skin between Chigiri’s sweats. He shimmied beneath the futon.

A second or two passed. Then-

PFFFFT!

“GAH!” Chigiri let out a shocked squeal, flailing beneath the blankets at the sudden raspberry being blown against his bare skin. Immediately after he was laughing hysterically, swatting and slapping at Kunigami’s back as he struggled to escape. “STAHHAHAP! SHTHAHHAHP! I’M UP! GHEHAHAHA I’M UHUUHHUP!”

“Are you sure?” Kunigami asked against his hip, grinning when the blankets got yanked off, allowing him to see the redhead’s hot glare. “Good morning, Chi. Sleep well?”

“I was- but then a big ugly ogre showed up in my dream and tried to eat me!” Chigiri tugged at Kunigami’s sweatshirt, unsuccessful in pulling him off. “He was tall with big muscles and orange fur and smelled bad.”

“Oh, that is IT!” Kunigami mock gasped before going right back to his tickles, making the redhead squeal and fall over. “Screw the cafeteria, I’m having raspberries for breakfast!”

“AHEHAHAHHA KUNIHIHIIHIHIHIHIHI!”

~~~

2.)

“How’s your knee?” Kunigami asked, brows furrowing when Chigiri made a soft noise, rubbing at the joint. They’d been running all morning- something about “90 minute endurance” that left a lot of the guys exhausted. Chigiri naturally outpaced them all- his speed was amazing even when he wasn’t going all out.

“It’s fine..just a little sore.” Chigiri tried to smile, but he looked so tired it came off as a grimace. “I’ll do my leg care in a bit. I doubt I could make it back to the locker rooms right now even if I tried.”

“Hm.” Kunigami kept looking at him, amber eyes flicking from his expression to his knee to the main rooms. Then he stood up suddenly, squatting before the redhead.

“What are you-Whoa!” Chigiri yelped when arms tucked under his legs and back, sweeping him off his feet. “K-Kunigami, put me down!” He grabbed on to him like a startled cat, cheeks getting warm when he heard a few of the guys whistle and croon at them. “I can walk back myself!”

“Sorry- can’t let you do that.” Kunigami told him simply, ignoring the others as he began to walk back to the main rooms. “Besides, what happens if you hurt yourself on the way in?”

“I’m not a porcelain doll! I won’t break. Chigiri snapped, pissed.

“Didn’t mean it like that.” Kunigami winced, expression falling. “Sorry.”

Chigiri grew quiet as they passed the sliding doors, the sound of the AC above them the only noise. Then: “No, I’m sorry. I’m not…used to getting help.” Chigiri’s expression softened to one of remorse as he squeezed Kunigami’s shoulder. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Hey, that’s what heroes do.” The ginger smiled as he leaned in, kissing Chigiri’s cheek. “I don’t like how down you look. Come on- smile for me.”

“Screw you- I don’t smile when people tell me to.” Chigiri rolled his eyes, flattening his mouth. No success- the corners of his lips were twitching.

“Not even for your knight in shining armor?” Kunigami teased, the hand under Chigiri’s knee curled, fingers wiggling beneath it. “After I’ve saved you from that dastardly ogre this morning?”

“Ehehhehehehe! Nohooho, dohoohn’t you dahhah-HERO!” Chigiri squeaked, nearly falling out of Kunigami’s arms when he felt his balance shift. “Don’t I’ll fall!” 

“I’ll never let that happen.” Kunigami reassured him, effortlessly readjusting his grip. “I’ll catch you always.”

“Wow, I’m swooning.” Chigiri deadpanned, even as his cheeks warmed and he snuggled closer, resting his head against the crook of Kunigami’s neck. “Get the smelling salts, I just might faint.”

“I’ll go get Gagamaru’s gym socks.” Kunigami offered, laughing when Chigiri pinched him, disgusted.

~~~

3.)

“Hey, look at me.” Kunigami’s voice was soft and hushed, as if Chigiri would shatter at anything louder. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

Chigiri would have snarked something in reply had he been able to breathe. The nightmare still played through his head over and over- a tall grotesque figure with a massive circular saw looming over him, going to cut off his leg. He could still hear the sound of that terrible machine in his ears, the gleam of it as it got closer and closer until-

“Hyoma.” The sound of his name snapped him back to reality, and he looked up with panicked eyes at Kunigami. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Follow my lead. Ready?” Kunigami set a pace- slow and deep. Chigiri struggled to keep up, his breathing shaky and hitching with each inhale. His vision was so blurry- was he crying or sweating? Was he even awake or was this dream Kunigami putting him under before the big chop?

“That’s it…nice and slow…” Kunigami’s hands found his. They were so warm, hot almost in Chigiri’s clammy ones. They felt so real and thick and human. Calloused and rough yet so incredibly gentle. “There we go. Just like that.”

His lungs weren’t on fire anymore. The tightness in his throat was starting to loosen. When he breathed in again, it wasn’t so hard. “H-hero?” He stammered out, barely over a whisper.

“I’ve gotcha, Princess.” There it was- the one thing that reminded him where he was. No longer in a doctor’s office wheeling to surgery- no longer in the warped hospital of his nightmare. He was in Blue Lock, the aluminum floors cold against his bare feet, the wall against his back prodding into his spine uncomfortably. He didn’t care- discomfort was reality to him. His hands weren’t trembling anymore. “There we are. Just like that.”

He didn’t know how much time passed. He honestly couldn’t remember leaving the main room. He probably fell asleep out here- or maybe he woke everyone up. It didn’t matter- Kunigami was beside him now, an arm sliding across his back and pressing him into a broad chest. He could hear Kunigami’s heartbeat racing. “I scared you..”

“No, I’m not scared.” He reassured him, the hand on his back sliding up and under his sweatshirt, pressing into bare skin. The touch was incredibly comforting. “Just worried.”

“Sorry…” Chigiri mumbled, blinking as tears slid down his cheeks. He didn’t know if they were fresh or lingering.

“Don’t.” Kunigami sounded so gentle yet firm. The hand on his back ran across his spine, fingers curling as they dragged along his skin. Any other spot Chigiri probably would have squirmed away, too ticklish for his own good. Maybe he was too drained to react, but he rather liked the feeling. “Rest. I got you.”

Chigiri hummed, closing his eyes, the feeling of Kunigami’s nails scratching his skin combined with the sound of his heartbeat was like a lullaby to him. “Thanks…Rensuke.”

If Kunigami replied, he didn’t hear it. He was already asleep.

~~~

4.)

“Say it.” Kunigami was staring at him- a new intensity in his expression. “I wanna hear it.”

“Hmm….no.” Chigiri decided, fighting down the urge to smile as he carried on blow drying his hair. “I don’t like being told what to do.”

Kunigami puffed, the frown he was trying to force on his face coming off more like a pout. The effect was rather adorable- Chigiri almost gave in just for that face alone.

This was more fun, he decided.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Chi!” Kunigami scooted closer when the appliance turned off, Chigiri putting it aside as he gathered up his hair tie. "My kryptonite- the one who takes down superman!”

“I thought you liked All Might.” Chigiri hummed as he began braiding the side of his head, working the soft strands down slowly. “Does that mean I’m whatever his name is? The dry bones looking guy?”

“Oh no- you’re far too pretty to be Shigaraki.” Kunigami’s fingers came over his, taking over the task. Chigiri almost swatted him away but decided against it, letting his hands fall to his lap with a small sigh of content. “Though if I had to compare you two in personality…”

Chigiri tch’d,  reaching back and pinching Kunigami’s thigh. The ginger yelped, spasming some and accidentally tugging the redhead’s hair. Chigiri hissed in pain, his glare softening to a grumpy cat look after the hero pressed a soft kiss against his crown in apology. “I’m still not saying it.”

“What? After this beautiful job I did with your hair?” Kunigami finished the braid, tying it off and tucking it away. “What’s left of it anyway.”

Chigiri snorted, his hand running over the plait. “I’ll be thinking of it all day- really; my head still hurts.”

“Sorry- though you’re the one who decided to tickle me while I’m holding your hair.”  Kunigami pointed out, a small grin pulling at his lips at the word. “You know, now that I think about it…”

“Kunigami.” Chigiri knew that voice all too well. He went to run, but hands were already at his sides, pulling him back into a broad chest. “Don’t you dahahhahre!”

“Say it and I’ll stop.” Kunigami teased, fingers pressing into his ribs like a piano, bringing out a wide range of giggles and snorts from the redhead. “Give in, Princess~”

“Noohoohohooho wahahahahhay! I’m noohohohohohot sahhhahaying shiiihiihihihihihit!” Chigiri declared, even as he sank further, grabbing at the ginger’s wrists. “Kuhuuhuhuuhnigahahhhami, plehahahahhahse!”

“Please what?”

“Yohhoohoohu know whahahahhat!”

“Do I? What am I doing?”

“Tihiiihihihickling mehehhe-No whahahhhahahhait! Whahaaihiihiihihihit!” Chigiri squealed when a hand slid to his belly, clawing at the center while the other carried on prodding his ribs. “Nohooohoho doohoohohohohon’t!”

“Which is it? First you’re asking me to wait, and then you’re asking me to please keep tickling you!” Kunigami mock argued, giving Chigiri’s knees a friendly squeeze and earning a whole array of cackling laughter. “Such a demanding princess- make up your mind!”

“AHEHAHHAHAHA!” Chigiri squeaked out a whine, face hidden in his hands as he tried to curl up and away. His ears were as red as his hair, cheeks hurting from how much he was smiling. “KUUUHUHUHUHUNIGAHAHHAAMIHIHIHIHI!”

“You know what I want to hear.” Kunigami smirked.

“FIHIHIHIHNE, FIHIIHIHNE! AHEHAHHAHAHA- RENSUHUHUUHKE!” He cried, gasping for breath when the tickling finally came to an end. Kunigami looked pleased, his face warmed and lightly flushed. “Ahehehe…hehhehehe….hahahappy now?”

“With you? Always.” Kunigami grinned, deeping Chigiri’s own blush significantly. “Hey.” He reached out, brushing his hair out of his face gently. “I love you, Hyoma.”

“Ugh, you’re tehherible!” Chigiri covered his face, suddenly shy. Eventually, he moved his hands, sitting up some so he could properly face the other. “I love you too…Rensuke.”

Kunigami’s heart swelled three times its size.

~~~

5.)

“Ugh, my back…” Kunigami groaned as he stretched, wincing when the muscles along his spine screamed at him. “I’m too young to have these problems- what the hell?”

“Pfft- old man.” Chigiri teased, squeaking when Kunigami’s sweatshirt hit him dead on. “Ew, hero sweat.”

“Drink it, it’ll give you superpowers.” The ginger grinned, cackling when Chigiri practically flung the garment away, grimacing. “What, don’t wanna be my Mrs. Incredible?”

“Watch yourself.” Chigiri rolled his eyes, his teasing smirk dropping some when Kunigami flinched. “You okay?”

“Yeah- my lower back is just being loud.” Kunigami sighed, rubbing it with one hand. He knew he shouldn’t have overdone it working out- he could feel the beginnings of strain settling in halfway through his routine. Reo even told him to rest, but he was so confident he could handle it.

“Lay down on your stomach.” Chigiri ordered, earning a raised brow.

“Huh?”

“Lay down on your stomach.” He said again, gesturing to the single bed. “I’ll give you a massage.”

Kunigami’s brows raised, a twinge of both eagerness and reluctance swirling in his chest. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking. I’m offering.” Chigiri shrugged, flapping his hand at the bed impatiently. “You’ve always helped me out when I needed it- I want to do the same for you.”

Kunigami looked at the bed and back at the redhead. Then he laughed, reaching out and pulling Chigiri in his arms, squeezing him gently. “You always help me too. Thanks, Chi. I appreciate it.”

“I haven’t done anything yet.” Chigiri mumbled against his chest, his arms coming around to hug him back. “Now-get in the bed before I change my mind.”

“Pfft- alright, I’m going. So demanding…” Kunigami laughed, doing just so. He heard Chigiri shuffle behind him as he got comfortable, the weight of his boyfriend soon following as he straddled his legs. “Ever massaged someone before?”

“Nope- but I’ve watched enough youtube videos on it- surely I can figure it out.” He cracked his knuckles, flushing some at the raised eyebrow Kunigami gave him over his shoulder. “Shush.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Your eyebrow is as loud as your back.”

“Were they shirtless guys?”

“Ugh, nevermind. Suffer.” Chigiri huffed, starting to get off. Kunigami laughed, reaching out and catching his hand, making him pause.

“Wait, wahahait- okay for real. I’ll be quiet.” He promised, kissing Chigiri’s knuckles.

The redhead rolled his eyes, face still flushed. Then he sat back against Kunigami’s thighs, tapping his hands against his back. “Let me know if I’m hurting you.” Then the hands tapping began to knead, pushing deep and slow.

At first it hurt like absolute hell. Then the relief followed, spreading with the pain across the nerve endings of his back and making the ginger groan.

“Feels good?” Chigiri sounded highly amused.

“Don’t stop- please.” Kunigami sighed. He could feel Chigiri swell with pride above him, the hands pressing into his back growing more confident. He felt himself start to fade out from just how relaxed it made him feel.

Until those little hands strayed close to the back of his ribs.

“Hmm! Careful now.” Kunigami twitched, spasming some. Chigiri paused, then those hands did it again, this time the touch even lighter. Giggles climbed up the hero’s throat, pressing against the back of his teeth. “C-Chi!”

“Ticklish, hero?” Oh that tone- he should have known this was bound to happen. Chigiri’s fingers curled even more, his nails skittering over the bare skin along his ribs. That did it- Kunigami arched with a cackle, feet kicking up behind him as he squirmed. “Good. After all the tickling you do to me, it’s about time I return the favor.”

“Chihihihiihi! Ahehahahhahahaha! Chiihihihigihihihihiri, plehahhahahahashe!” Kunigami tittered, fists clutching the sheets of the bed as he struggled not to flail. Those devious nails- they skittered and traced from the edges of his bottom ribs to the center of his armpits, pressing in occasionally just to get a snort. Sometimes they’d skitter up to his neck, making Kunigami scrunch and giggle. “Stahhahahahp, whahahhhat aboohoohout my mahhahhahahahsahahahhage?”

“This is the massage- a tickle massage.” Chigiri giggled, dropping one hand so he could prod at his belly, earning a loud squeal. “Oo, bad spot? Good to know.”

“HEHEHHEHEHHEYOHOHOHOHOMA!” Kunigami cackled, unable to hold still when Chigiri brought both hands to his belly, dancing his nails along the softer parts of his abs. “PLAHAHAHAHSE IT TIHIIHIIHICKLES TOOHOHOHOHOH MUCH!”

“Good. That’s the point, Rensuke.” The redhead rested his head against Kunigami’s back, giggling along within him. “You know- I was reading this new manga. Apparently the big source of energy for the characters is riiiiiiiiight here.” He wiggled his fingers right along the center of Kunigami’s belly, poking at his belly button. “Tao or something, you know?”

Kunigami didn’t know- for at that moment he let out a loud unadulterated squeal before finally having enough. Using all his strength, he flipped. Chigiri yelped as he went flying, nearly falling off the bed before Kunigami caught him, pulling him into his chest. Hands grabbed his wrists, keeping them up and away from his belly. “Thehehehre! Thehrehehehere…no more tihihihkckling.”

Chigiri looked a little dazed, recentering himself. Then he was grinning, and then he was laughing, face against Kunigami’s chest as the reaction settled between them. “Pfft-Geahhahahahaha! What kind of noise was thahahahhaht?”

Kunigami tried to be mad, but it wasn’t long before he was laughing just as much, supporting Chigiri’s neck as he pulled him closer, rolling them so they were lying side by side. “Shush- you squeal louder than me. That was just eh…defense mechanism.”

Chigiri howled at that, his voice nearly breaking from how hard he laughed. By the time they settled down, his eyes were misty, snorts breaking up his huffs of mirth. Kunigami doubted he looked much better- his belly held that comfortable ache from laughing too much, his heart pounding a mile a minute. “Oh god…oh my god, I fucking love you.”

“Heh, I love you too.” Kunigami smiled, reaching out as he brushed Chigiri’s hair out of his face. His eyes flicked to his lips, a silent request. Chigiri smiled before leaning up, taking his lips within his own.

“Want me to finish your massage?” Chigiri asked a tad breathlessly as they pulled away. 

“Nah. I like this more.” Kunigami grinned, taking his boyfriend’s chin in hand before kissing again and again.

Thanks for reading! :D

[anon-unofficial]

hey so. um. i was told that lmk didn't have any pain. and. haha. haha. haHa...what the f

[stillcomethenight]

I wrote a little Ladja fic now and it's soft and Nadja centered, I swear. Go check it out pls pls. Because I absolutely want to write in the fandom more and I would love feedback 💖 please, we need more Ladja stuff out there

[laurelwinchester]

lol just went in the rookie tag and everyone is going feral and saying they hate the show and this is the worst season and they hope it gets cancelled because tim and lucy broke up and meanwhile i'm over here just EATING THIS SHIT UP. there's literally no way they're not an endgame couple so when that break up happened i was like "GOOD, it was getting a little too chummy around here."

[naurnaville]

Since WxS has started going around and visiting different theatre groups and all of that after the 3rd anniversary, I wonder how Rui will fit into this for his next event (he needs his 4th focus PLEASE), since he's the troupe's director and all

However, I really hope that they at least touch on Rui's "main character conflict" which I consider to be his internal conflict with handling his past, loneliness, as well as the desire to stay with WxS but also pursue directing to enhance his craft, which is different now since WxS is a freelance group...In Curtain Call, we got to see Asahi and how well of a dynamic he had with Rui between actor and director (similar to Tsukasa, of course), so I'm curious if we'll see anything similar to Rui's next focus, or if things will be different regarding people's thoughts towards his "interesting directing choices", but I'm not as certain that it will be so much of a problem anymore since we heard positive feedback from the director of the theatre group in Tsukasa's recent focus towards Rui, complimenting him on his ability to bring out the best of their acting capabilities for the other members of WxS, showing that it's less of a worry now compared to something like the conflict in the Potato event

Also, I'm still curious about how Rui feels about his conflict of "wanting to stay with WxS but also wanting to further his directing, and wanting to keep those two dreams simultaneously" being somewhat resolved by having WxS stay as a freelance group and searching for new theatre groups; I feel like that was pretty abrupt even if he was the one to come up with the idea of a freelance group and advocating for it; it's basically the ideal "happy end" for everyone including him, but I think it's important for his character to face the realistic possibility of losing something really close, as cynical as I am here

Anyway, I just really hope for a really interesting and heart shattering conflict for Rui in his next event, whatever it may be, and however long it'll be until then...

[sat-in-a-rat-trap]

been thinkin ab my aus, like always, and i think after steve dies claudia would go right to the oracle coven(bcuz the ghosts) and when that doesnt pan out she gets to what shes good at. bard and abomination, eventually using all three to imbue the metronome with some good ol wild magic and bring steve back

[askyeehan]

How did y’all end up together? Mind tellin the story?

Cole: How me and Hanzo got together. I could sit here all day and talk about every single twist and turn, 'cause there were plenty of 'em. It might surprise ya to know Hanzo and I didn't actually get along at first. Not that we hated each other or anythin' like that. But the first time I even heard about Hanzo was from his brother.

It's hard to not be biased in such a complicated situation. Lots of people thought poorly of Hanzo and what he did, but seein' my own background, I was willin' to give him a chance. The more I slowly heard and gathered about how he grew up….it made me sick, to be honest. He deserved better than what those monsters….

Cole shakes his head, pushing the thoughts away.

Anyway, back to us. Our first mission together was a mess. I didn't realize it at the time, but I was definitely more focused on tryin' to show off and impress Hanzo that I got hurt pretty bad. Obviously I'm still alive, of course! Takes a lot to keep me down, that's for sure. He did visit me in the infirmary, which took everyone by surprise.

It was incredibly difficult getting him to socialize with much of anyone. Even all this time later, he doesn't talk to many people, at least not the way he does when I'm around. He's slowly getting better, with more and more gentle nudges.

Part of the reason I'm doin' all this is to hopefully get him out of his comfort zone a bit and be more adventurous. There's so much more to be said about those twists and turns I mentioned, I'll definitely be talkin' about them in depth in the future.

[the-lonelybarricade]

Thank god you’re giving us a happy Elucien if MBs is going to devastate us 😫 dream team, right? Lol

Happy Elucien 👀 Right, yes. That is, uh... exactly what I will be writing

But you're right, @separatist-apologist and I ARE the dream team 🥰

[bladedflower]

@hopewrought // starter call

"Sometimes, I fucking hate days like this." Words flew out under a sigh. The wear of a long day of research (while unable to focus), paired with little to no sleep due to an aching mind that plagues itself with nightmares, led Lily to ever-so slowly lean her head upon the other's shoulder, as though looking for a rare moment of trusted comfort. "Wish I could sleep..."