#MIGHT MAKE THIS A FICLET

[stillnotyourmusebitch]

I do love that Agent Stone has a very prominent fang. But noticing this has left my mind thirsting for Stobotnik fic. Coz we know Robotnik pulls him close via his lower jaw in the first movie. But does in doing this, he notices the fangs and the detail gets stored away but keeps swimming into his mind and all he wants is Stone marking his skin and claiming and and . . . Okay, my brain is in overdrive right now.

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

[miasmaghoul]

whos the best ghoul cook? do you think they have any weird eating quirks (like water ghouls eating raw fish, mountain chewin on his terra cotta plant pots, fire ghouls needing to eat more bc of higher body temp, anything like that)?

Did I ever tell you guys that I earned a scholarship to culinary school? I couldn't go, but cooking and baking remain passions of mine that I do NOT get to talk about enough.

But now you've given me an excuse >:)

So here, a BUNCH of my cooking (and favorite food) headcanons for the ghouls and Papas alike!

(There's some murder ghoul content here, mostly in Alpha's section - couldn't help myself 😌)

Aeon isn't one for cooking. Loves eating food, certainly, but not making it. He's more of a snacker, partly because it's more convenient but mostly because he doesn't have the attention span to do much more than microwave instant noodles. He's not picky though, will eat whatever is put in front of him as long as someone else has prepared it. Also doesn't have much of a sweet tooth, more of a salty/savory guy. Favorite foods include hot cheetos, thick cut beef jerky (good to gnaw), and whatever appears on his plate at meal times.

Aether is a ghoul of simple tastes. He'll cook when he has the time, but it's going to be one of his four go-to recipes every time. Always some format of protein + starch + veg, with a complementary sauce. He meal preps every weekend after his retirement so he can have easy meals to microwave and eat in the infirmary. Isn't the biggest fan of cooking with company, unless they're willing to stay out of the kitchen and not interrupt his routine. Has a weak spot for bananas. Favorite meal is one-pan roasted chicken, potatoes and asparagus with rosemary and garlic from Mountain’s garden.

Alpha does not cook, wouldn't dream of it. He doesn't even deign to eat human food most of the time, turns his nose up at it when offered. He likes his meat raw, and wants to hunt it himself so he can feel the blood run down his chin. Any prey is fair game - if he finds you in the woods, you'd better hope you can outrun him. (You cannot.) Favorite foods include the flesh and organs of anything with a pulse.

Aurora likes the idea of cooking, but in practice...well, she tries. She's impatient, is the problem - what do you mean simmer for 20 minutes? She's hungry now! She inevitably rushes everything she makes, no matter how much input she gets from the others, and has yet to learn her lesson. She also has a MASSIVE sweet tooth, they can't keep enough sugary snacks in the pantry as far as she's concerned. Favorite foods include spaghetti with butter and cheese (one of the only things she can always get right), boxed brownies and any kind of fruity candy she can get her paws on.

Cirrus can cook pretty well, if she says so herself, but it's rare that she does it for anyone but herself. She has very particular tastes, and doesn't want to have to adapt them for others. She loves organ meat and bitter vegetables, enjoys the intensity of those flavors while the smell alone keeps most of the others away. Oh well, more for her! She'll eat anything thats made for her though, especially if its served on a silver platter by someone on their knees. Favorite foods (aside from the aforementioned organs) mostly include healthy things like fresh fruit and veggies, steamed shellfish and lean meat.

Cumulus is more of a baker than a cook, but enjoys any time spent in the kitchen either way. She's the type to make a day of it, in her comfiest clothes with music playing while she dances in front of the stove. Her food is never the prettiest, but it's made with love and tastes so much better for it. Her favorite things to bake are cookies and pies, but she doesn't eat many sweets herself. Prefers seeing the others enjoy them. Favorite foods include homemade bread (she has a sourdough starter named Breadly) with lots of butter and flaky salt, anything citrus-forward and wants her proteins heavily spiced (not spicy, she has a low tolerance, but loves the fragrant flavors of herbs and spices).

Dewdrop doesn't advertise it, but he's one of the best ghouls to have in the kitchen. His precision and attention to detail are second to none, and while it doesn't make him particularly fun to share a kitchen with it does make him an outstanding cook. He likes very intricate, involved recipes because he can use them to showcase his skills (and earn a whole bunch of praise at the dining table as a bonus). Loves spicy food, which everyone assumes is due to him now being a fire ghoul, but he's actually always enjoyed a good burn. Favorite foods include any meat served on the bone, fermented foods (kimchi and sour pickles especially) and anything smoked.

Ifrit does not know how the stove works. He survives on protein bars and any leftovers he can pilfer from the abbey kitchens. Food is not a thing he's super interested in, just takes what he needs to fuel himself, and would rather follow in Alpha's footsteps anyway. He likes to hang out at the lake every now and then with Mist, though - she'll pop up from the water every now and then with a nice plump trout to toss his way, which he will roast with his bare hands. Doesn't really have a favorite food, but does like crunchy things.

Mist, if she isn't sharing her spoils with Ifrit, will keep her catch for herself. She's small enough that one good-sized lake fish will tide her over for the day. She does prefer them raw and whole, always a bit on the feral side, but she can be convinced to join the others for sushi if the offer arises. Favorite foods include anything alive and not poisonous in the lake, and cookie dough ice cream (don't tell anyone).

Mountain is overall considered to be the best cook amongst the ghouls, and definitely has the goofy apron to prove it. Naturally skilled and adaptable, he enjoys preparing meals for his pack and will do so with anyone that wishes to lend a hand. Usually it's Cumulus or Sunshine, but they all keep him company at one point or another. He grows much of the produce used in their kitchen himself, all of it fresh and delicious, but Mountain does not eat a bite of it. He's a total carnivore - the closest he gets to eating his homegrown goodies is including them in a stew but avoiding them in his own bowl. Favorite foods include rabbit, venison and this one Vietnamese style grilled beef and rice noodle dish that Dew makes.

Omega learned to cook by osmosis, if you ask him. Time spent under three Papas will do thay to a ghoul. He doesn't cook much, but he's excellent at crafting simple, filling pasta dishes that are good for the soul (so to speak). Also treats it as an excuse to drink plenty of the good wine stashed away in the abbey's cellars - blame Terzo for that habit. Favorite meal is fresh pappardelle served with roasted tomatoes, basil and spicy sausage.

Rain doesn't cook if it involves more than the microwave, not because he can't but because he prefers to be waited on. Breakfast in bed, charcuterie plates in the afternoon, specially prepared dinners to make sure he's kept happy - none of it is necessary, but Rain can't help how much he loves being served. Good thing no one minds giving him the royal treatment. He will also indulge in the odd raw fish during a swim, but only does it beneath the surface, away from prying eyes. Favorite good is soup, any kind, but he prefers brothy ones over thick or creamy styles. If he had to pick a single favorite varitey, it would be miso.

Swiss is only allowed in the kitchen because he's good with a knife. He can burn through prep work like nobody's business, but that's where his skill set ends. He's caused one too many greasefires to he trusted at the stove, and every time he's put something in the oven he's forgotten about it until smoke filled the room and the ghoulettes had to magickally air it out. But he can chop like a food processor, so he gets the knife pass. He's another one that'll eat anything put in front of him, with one exception: eggs. Can't stand them. Favorite foods include red meat served rare, really dark, bitter chocolate and anything with hideous amounts of garlic.

Sunshine is chaos personified in the kitchen. She loves to experiment with flavors and techniques, but has yet to have anything close to a success. Pasta with pesto and pineapple (alliteration is fun), chocolate covered avocado balls (with bacon, because why not), a tuna sandwich made with coconut yogurt instead of mayo (it's healthy!) - these are but a few of the food crimes that have lost her solo access to the kitchens. This girl could burn cereal, and no one wants to see that. She does love to eat though, and will frequently hang out when someone else is cooking so she can sneak bites whatever they're making. Favorite foods include cheese (all kinds), sour candy and all the orchard fresh peaches she can get her hands on.

And for the Papas:

Primo had to learn his way around the kitchen from an early age, thanks to the responsibility of raising his younger brothers falling onto his shoulders. He learned by watching the kitchen staff - a pair of elderly Sisters with so much skill in their gnarled hands that Primo couldn't look away. He never got very good at it, mostly sticking to a handful of reliable dishes that could be made cheap and easily for the three of them. His favorite of the bunch was also the one thing he was best at making - a simple mushroom risotto.

Secondo took to the kitchen like it was second nature, once Primo could trust him to not chop a finger off. Would spend hours poring over cookbooks and learning by doing, eating his own failures so his brothers wouldn't have to. He really enjoyed making simple but hearty comfort foods, lots of rib-sticking braises and stews filled with herbs and veggies from Primo's modest garden. He even cooked the last meal they ever shared together, on that fateful Uno night. It was his favorite, a lasagna constructed from fresh sheets of pasta, homemade ricotta, spinach and a simple tomato sauce, served with roasted garlic focaccia.

Terzo did not get the cooking gene, aside from being able to boil water for his tea. It wasn't a big deal since his brothers picked up the slack, and he decided there were other things that took priority - like music, history and how to retain a full head of hair after age 30. He preferred drinking over eating anyway, mostly saw food as something to put in his stomach to cushion the wine. He was a man of simple tastes, and his favorite thing was a humble sandwich of mortadella, provolone and spicy pickled peppers.

Copia never had to learn to cook, raised by the Clergy and doted on thanks to a not-so-subtle suggestion from Sister Imperator. More than a little spoiled in that sense, he would also go on to be the most worldly Papa in terms of his tastes. So much time spent traveling the world helped to expand his palate, and he got into the habit of sending pictures and descriptions of his favorites back to the abbey so the kitchen staff could figure out how to replicate them. It's impossible for him to pick a favorite, but thanks to so much time spent in LA he does have a real soft spot for Mexican food. Tacos al pastor in particular, but without the cilantro (he has the soap gene).

[steddiehyperfixation]

how to stay with you (steddie ficlet)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 29: future, and also inspired by this post i saw ages ago

1474 words | rated t | cw: unhappy ending

When Steve and Eddie first got together, they had been young and in love and that’s all that had mattered. At 19 and 20 the realities of the future seemed so far away, so caught up in each other in each present moment that it almost felt like they would never grow up, like time would never pass and they would never have anything to worry about. Conversations of ‘what ifs’ and potential issues were brushed aside, anything that wasn’t an immediate problem dismissed with a kiss and a carefree “we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” There was no need for premature concern when surely nothing would ever be so big as to come between them. Because they were it for each other, weren’t they? They were forever, and forever seemed so easy when forever was young.

But the time did pass and they did grow up, and now the bridges they thought they’d never come to are looming before them, fast approaching.

At 25 and 26, they sit at the dinner table in the one-bedroom apartment they’ve lived in for years and Eddie tells Steve about the life-changing phone call he just received. The Hollywood music producer he’s been in sporadic contact with finally wants to finalize a plan and work with Eddie’s band officially, and Eddie is so excited he’s practically vibrating as he rambles to Steve about the album he’ll make and the tours he might go on and how they’re gonna have to start looking for places in LA soon because they have to be local and the producer wants to get started on this by the end of next month. He expects Steve to be excited too, to match his grin and maybe hold hands and bounce around the kitchen with him, but his boyfriend’s expression only falls further and further into a frown with every word Eddie speaks.

“Eddie-” Steve interrupts him, his voice far too serious. “I don’t want to move to LA.”

Eddie’s buzzing energy freezes, stopping short. “What?”

Steve repeats, “I don’t want to move to LA.”

“But-” Eddie frowns. “I was always going to move to LA, that was always my plan. You knew that.”

“Yeah, I-I know. But we always said we’d just cross that bridge when we came to it.”

“Well, we’re coming to it now. So, why don’t you want to move?”

“I don’t want to uproot our life here. And I don’t want to end up having to wait around in a strange city while you’re off on tours all the time.”

“You wouldn’t, you’d come with me.”

Steve shakes his head. “I can’t live like that. And what about when we have kids? That’s no way to-”

“Wait, Steve-” It’s Eddie’s turn to interrupt, all trace of his previous excitement gone, having dropped like a stone into his gut instead. “I don’t want kids. Like, ever.”

Something fractures in Steve’s eyes as he stares at him, almost hurt. “What? Why did you never say anything? You knew- I’ve always wanted kids, Eddie, you’ve always known that.”

“Yeah, I know, I just-” Eddie’s mouth feels too dry and his tongue too heavy as he wets his lips and shrugs guiltily. “I mean, we always said we’d just cr-”

“-cross that bridge when we came to it, yeah,” Steve sighs, a dejected sort of exhale that slouches in his shoulder as if the full weight of this conversation has suddenly settled upon them.

Eddie feels it too, feels them sinking somewhere they can’t come back from. “Is that, uh- is that a dealbreaker for you?”

“Kind of, yeah,” Steve admits, and he looks at Eddie like it devastates him to do so, emotion swimming in his eyes and straining his voice. “Is me not wanting to move to LA a dealbreaker for you?”

Eddie swallows thickly. “Kind of, yeah.”

“Would you ever change your mind?” Steve asks, a last ditch hope. “About kids, or any of it?”

“No,” Eddie says; though he hates to watch the last of the light drain from Steve’s face, he can’t lie to him. “Would you?”

“No,” Steve answers in a barely managed whisper.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and it shakes. His vision blurs. He says, “Then this isn’t going to work, is it?”

Steve stares at him with glassy eyes, like he’s watching Eddie become a ghost right in front of him. His voice breaks as he speaks, “You mean we’re not going to work.”

“Yeah…” Eddie confirms, and it shatters his heart. “I’m so sorry, Stevie.” He reaches for Steve’s hands across the table. “I love you more than anything, I really do, but I won’t give up on my dream, and I can’t ask you to give up on yours either.”

“No you’re right.” Steve breath shudders. His eyes fall to their joined hands and he blinks rapidly, the way he does when he’s trying hard not to cry. He squeezes Eddie’s hands tight, desperate for something to hold on to even as he agrees, “We want different things, incompatible things. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Exactly…I don’t want to hold you back,” Eddie echoes in barely more than a whisper, afraid if he tries to speak any louder he’ll break into tears.

Steve does break then, a sob escaping from his throat as if it’d clawed its way free, tears spilling from his eyes. Such a cry activates an instinct in Eddie that sends him leaping to his feet and pulling Steve into a hug within seconds.

“I’m so sorry,” he says again. His chest aches and he really wishes this wasn’t happening, hates that he knows that it has to.

“Me too,” Steve manages, head buried in Eddie’s shoulder. There’s no bitterness in it, only heavy acceptance. He knows it too.

They both know there’s no solving this, no compromise they could find that wouldn’t inevitably fester into resentment and regret. Because Steve wants to settle down and Eddie wants to fly - but Eddie isn’t built for the ground, nor is Steve for the sky, and there’s no common place left between them where they could both survive. It’s over.

So they mourn together while they still have each other to take comfort in, clinging tight to what they’re losing, just one last time. Eddie's crying now too, his tears streaming silently down his cheeks in counterbalance to Steve’s sniffly mumbling.

“I don't want to lose you,” Steve mutters. “Are you sure? Are you sure?”

And Eddie cries quietly into the crook of his neck that he doesn't want to lose him either, and he's sorry, so sorry.

When the worst of their sobs subside, they reach the bargaining stage of their grief, and they pull apart just enough to talk properly while still holding onto each other. Eddie swears he'll keep in touch, says he still wants to be a part of Steve's life. Steve makes him promise to send him postcards of all the amazing places he'll go to on tours and to invite him to shows whenever he's nearby. Eddie tells him to invite him to the wedding when - when, he emphasizes as Steve starts to shake his head - Steve falls in love again and finds someone who can give him the life he wants.

At that, Steve sniffles out a laugh, wet and humorless. “That would be cruel,” he says.

“I never said I’d actually show up,” Eddie clarifies, giving an equally complicated smile and bringing a hand up to cup his cheek. “I just want to know. I want to know that you're happy, even if it can't be with me.”

Steve closes his eyes - another tear or two leaks out - and turns his face into Eddie's hand. In a whisper, he agrees, “Okay.”

They decide it would be best for Eddie to leave as soon as possible. Since they've already concluded they won't last, there's no reason for them to stay in the same apartment even just one more night. It would only hurt more in the end.

With a sort of dissociated detachment, Eddie packs up his things, separating his life from Steve’s one piece of clothing and decorations at a time. It's all he can do not to start crying again.

As Eddie turns to leave for the last time, Steve grabs his arm, impulsive, desperate, and begs him for one more kiss. So Eddie turns around and indulges him. He tastes the salt of their tears on their lips, clutching at Steve's waist and tangling a hand in his hair as they both kiss each other like they know they never will again. Eddie savors every bitter taste, memorizes every sweet feeling.

And then they’re out of time and Eddie's out the door, his whole future ahead of him and his heart cracked right in half.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

Ford is Not used to being dependant on someone as an adult - especially since Stan isn't dependant on him At All in return. It's gotta be doing weird things to his neurons, he would probably sit like a dog if Stan told him to, he is pathetic amounts of in love with him this is past partner in crime he's his hero, his guide, his Muse, his god, Ford is in a really weird headspace

OOOH i love this version of stancest sm. i know this is likely about the little ford au but i also just love this kind of stancest in regular sea grunkles and kills me. so much of stancest (and tbh just in their canon dynamic) is stan nipping at ford's feet and following ford's lead even their sea grunkles era. a lot of darker stancest always infers with ford being obssesive and controlling too and usually stan lets it, because hey thats their dynamic and its better than nothing.

but the opposite has SO much potentil. ford following stans lead. to think of ford realizing that he's way WAY out of his depth and that he needs stan way more than stan needs him now?? maybe he ALWAYS needed stan more than stan needs him?? after all, what did ford say about how stan wouldve been able to see through bill's tricks?? if they were together, the apocalypse wouldve never happened...

ford would think he's so lost now, lost without any purpose now that bill is defeated and he doesnt want the fame anymore either now that he knows his chase for it is what made him lose his brother, so he feels SO empty. except hes not. theres stan. stan whos strong, brilliant, charming and the most selfless hero ford would ever know.

ford wants to protect him so much but another day of stan saving his ass from a monster they were investigating (because he got too curious again) and ford thinks he could never EVER measure up to the way stan protects him, loves him, cherishes him and takes care of him. it makes ford feel awful, unworthy of this love after he promised he'd do anything to earn back that second chance stan too gracefully gave him. he can't fathom the idea of stan finally wisening up and leaving him even if its no less than he really deserves, because what else will he have anymore if he doesnt have his best friend, his hero, his true muse? it'll fester in his mind, growing and growing and growing, and he shoves it down deeper and deeper as much as he can.

but one night, one bottle and a million inhibitions thrown over the railing of the stan o war, he'll finally break when stan smiles at him while they sit on the deck, looking so happy when that makes no sense.

stan deserves the world, the entire galaxies, and ford can't give them to him at that very moment. he'll start crying, overwhelmed with how much he loves stan and how stan deserves the best— one ford has to grudgingly admit isnt him.

"woah, woah, sixer," stan interrupts worriedly, face falling. "what's wrong? come on, we arent even that drunk yet."

the joking tone makes ford feel worse, because how could stan stop smiling because of him and still try to make ford feel better? "i'm sorry," ford chokes. "stan, god, i'm so sorry."

"stanford," stan says placatingly. ford understands that stan understands too, that this isn't about the alcohol, or about crying out of nowhere. his hands cup ford's face, so large and warm, like a place where ford could hide his face forever with the depths os his shame and stan might even let him. that breaks ford even more. "hey come on, bro, s'okay..."

"don't leave me."

"i'm not leaving you, your big brain knows that."

you should, ford thinks but will never say, because he can't. "i can't lose you again," ford whispers with shaky breath. "i w-wouldn't know what to do with myself—"

"ford—"

"— because you're so brilliant, and brave, and good—"

"— i guess but—"

"—you're so good stan," ford interrupts whatever faux preening stan was going to do. his brother doesnt believe him, and ford practically crawls into his space.

"you are so, so good. you are so good and you don't even realize, i—" ford's breath hitches. "i don't even know how i could ever repay you..."

"pff, alright," stan scoffs, looking away, cheeks bright red and smile unconvincing. "jeez ford, you really are drunk." he laughs, his shoulders stiff and unmoving. "like what, are you trying to suck my dick?"

"is that what you want?"

stans eyes snap back to him, wide and full of shock.

"what?"

"is that what you want me to do?"

"no, ford– i'm not–"

"stan," ford says, reaching his hand now to cup stan's face, and god he's just as much of a perfect fit in ford's as he was in stan's. stan is so much bigger and better than anyone else, but with his own extra finger he just might be fit for ford. "stan, it's okay. whatever you want, whatever you need, i'll do it. for you."

sort of something like that. i really really like to think of a slightly toxic, but like in the "its toxic and also the healthiest way this dynamic can really go about" ending where ford tries to overcompensate to stan with sex and romance and stan is relunctant at first but seeing just how willing ford actually is really starts getting into the whole dom/sub— which fulfills some purpose for ford AND he gets to have stan come all over him so its kind of a huge win on all fronts

[xenon-demon]

only one (1) coherent thought in my skull right now and it’s domestic steddie with Steve washing Eddie’s hair after he’s discharged from hospital post-Vecna.

I’m imagining Eddie’s being discharged to Steve’s house, because Steve is but a simple man with a saviour complex (and also a crush on Eddie) so he’s letting Wayne and Eddie stay with him. Partly so they have somewhere to be while the government sorts out some new housing for them, but mostly because Eddie needs support for these first few weeks out of hospital and Wayne is away at work a lot. Having Steve around as well means Eddie won’t end up in a situation where he needs a hand but is stuck home alone for hours.

Eddie’s recovered enough for discharge but still requires a lot of physical therapy, and one of the things he still can’t do is raise his arms above his head. He can’t wash his hair pretty much at all, and while the nurses washed it for him in hospital, they didn’t do it frequently enough for Eddie’s standards. His hair has been driving him insane, as the limp, greasy feeling against his face, neck and scalp makes him want to claw his skin off. When he’s told how long it’s expected to take before his arms have full range of motion again, he makes a joke-that’s-not-really-a-joke about going back to his buzzcut days just to avoid dealing with the feeling.

Steve is horrified at the suggestion, and immediately offers to wash Eddie’s hair for him. He also divulges that part of the reason he styled his hair the way he did in high school was because he played a lot of sports, and couldn’t stand the feeling of sweaty hair against his neck and face. Sure, he genuinely did want his hair to look good, but styling it up so it was out of his face was an added bonus.

Eddie’s hair is driving him so crazy that he says yes, especially once he realises Steve might actually get where he’s coming from.

Cue an emotionally tense shower, where both Steve and Eddie are stripped down to their boxers because they don’t want to this fully clothed but they sure as fuck don’t want to do it naked, either. (Spoiler alert, they’d both actually love to have a naked shower together, they’re just both too nervous to bring that up at this stage!)

But then Eddie slips while in the shower, still unsteady on his feet and learning to adjust to his bad leg, so Steve makes an executive decision to switch over to the bath. After a bit of manoeuvring they find a comfortable position to do this; Eddie sitting in front of Steve in the bath, Steve’s legs stretched out either side of him. Between the physical intimacy of having your hair washed by someone else, and the way they don’t have to look at each other’s faces as they do this, they end up talking. They get a lot more personal than they were able to in hospital or during Spring Break, and it’s such a nice experience that they’ll each happily put up with the sensory hell of waterlogged boxers.

Eventually - after Eddie and Wayne have moved into their new place, but Eddie and Steve are over at each other’s houses often enough that they might as well still be living together - Eddie can move his arms enough to wash his hair on his own. He’s gotten more used to his bad leg and can stand long enough to even shower if he wants to. They go about three weeks with Eddie washing his own hair, both of them desperately missing this little routine they’d built but not wanting to admit it. One day, however, Eddie feels so lonely and so tired from physical therapy that day that he asks Steve to wash his hair for him. Steve accepts in a heartbeat, almost before Eddie’s even had time to say the words.

It feels different that time. The energy between them is charged, everything feeling more intimate somehow. It’s so palpable a difference that after Steve runs the conditioner through Eddie’s hair to let it sit for a few minutes, Eddie turns around in the bath to face Steve. He takes a breath, trying to steel his nerves, and asks: can I kiss you?

Steve doesn’t answer him; he thinks the way he leans in and slots his lips in between Eddie’s is answer enough.

[justaz]

lance who has always hidden his insecurities under grandeur and humor. a huge ego paired with an inflated sense of pride. he is someone who is confident and cocky, but he exaggerates it in response to the deep rooted belief that he is not enough, that he is ordinary at best, lackluster at worst. he grew up as the baby in a huge family which came with a lot of coddling, yes, but his achievements had been made time and time again which made them expectations rather than milestones. the first time he truly shone was when he got into the garrison, something no one in his family had done before, something to be celebrated. he worked his ass off at the garrison to be top of his class, to be a fighter pilot, to reach the stars - to be the first of his family to reach space. who could too that? no matter how long he spent studying or training, he still tested into the cargo pilot class. it wasn’t the worst but it wasn’t what he wanted. he fell short by a measly three points. it was infuriating.

lance worked his ass off even more. he wanted to be something, he wanted to be noticed, he wanted to be praised, he wanted to be celebrated. he never made it. there was one student that caught his eye though - keith kogane. a living, breathing legend. he tested at the top of their class. miles above the other students. completely untouchable. despite his reputation, his grand achievements, keith never cared. he was never in the library studying or spending his free time on the flight sims. he rarely made it to class on time. he didn’t care. yet he was the best of the best. iverson gave him a hard time but it was clear to everyone that even iverson admired him and his skill, his talent. even lance admired him. he wanted to be like him, he wanted to be him. he was rejoiced, he was celebrated, he was praised, he was admired and he didn’t even try. lance pushed harder and harder but only ended in burning himself out. he crumbled under the pressure while keith didn’t seem to notice it. lance loved him but also hated him. then he was gone. and lance was a fighter pilot. barely.

iverson, now with one less eye, loathed that. he gave lance scorn and belittlement, compared him to keith at every turn and went on and on about his failings, about how he’d never be keith, about how he didn’t deserve keith’s space in the class. lance hated iverson, lance hated keith, lance hated himself. he just had to try harder. he was more deserving of all of it than keith. he never cared, he didn’t want what he was blessed with. lance fought tooth and nail for it. he deserved it. he rose a bit in the fighter pilot class and kept fighting, iverson kept ridiculing and humiliating, keith’s name remained at the top of the boards. as the year passed, his name overtook name after name until he was below keith, three points behind. almost, almost, almost, almost…

then they were in space. kidnapped by giant, sentient, mechalions. fighting in an intergalactic war. unable to return home. the years of resentment lance held for keith came to surface in close quarters with the man and he relished in every challenge that he won and despised every challenge he lost. he worked his ass off to get better until he could rechallenge keith until he won. he wasn’t sure when their rivalry became tinged with friendship, but he didn’t hate it. he should’ve, but he didn’t. it was keith’s disregard for his own amazement that infuriated lance. he was gifted and never cared for it. he was everything lance wanted and it was like it meant nothing to him. like he would trade it all at the drop of a hat if he could. yet, keith was fun, in an odd way. awkward and funny, a little prickly around the edges but a soft, gooey marshmallow heart under it all. lance knew it. he saw keith tear up at a couple of cute babies of some species on some planet as they played.

then shiro went missing and keith was forced into the role of leader and he very clearly did not want it. again, lance felt a flicker of annoyance. the role of black paladin, the pilot of the black lion, that was something lance had wanted. not at the expense of shiro, not at the expense of anyone, but he could be leader. he could lead the paladins of voltron in the fight against the galran empire. he could be revered on every planet they freed from tyranny, his name would live on forever. no one would overshadow him. yet, now keith stood in the shadow of the black lion, his face pinched and his eyes dark. he had lost his brother twice now and was being forced into leadership, he was now the one to make all the decisions for the team of (mostly) teenagers against the empire that had terrorized the universe for over ten thousand years.

lance stomped on the flicker of annoyance and put it out as he strode forward and stood beside keith. he spoke lowly, gently. he wasn’t sure how, but the right words spilled forth. keith’s shoulders relaxed and his scowl eased to a faint frown. he stepped into his role as leader. he was still as impatient and impulsive, he was quick to anger and often blinded by it. lance was there for it all. he held keith back, became his patience and impulse control. he quelled his anger when he could and talked sense into him when keith was already fired up. in return, keith gave him trust and gave him power. to outsiders, it seemed like it always had since the birth of voltron - the black paladin, the leader, and the red paladin, the right hand. but in all actuality, it was more the black and red paladins, leaders of voltron. the final decision rested with keith, but he never made a choice without lance’s input. lance made the plans and keith approved of them. lance talked at the diplomatic meetings while keith put on a brave face and played nice for a few hours.

then shiro came back and keith stepped down. lance felt as if he had finally found his footing. lance and keith, leaders of voltron, best friends. and now keith was leaving. lance watched keith walk away as he supported hunk and his tears. lance retreated to his own room and found traces of keith in every nook and cranny. hell, the damn castle ship could be traced back to keith in lance’s mind. ever since he stepped foot in the garrison, everything was tied to keith - the school legend, top of the class, best fighter pilot in their generation, the crazy man breaking into a government facility to kidnap legend takashi shirogane, the conspiracy theorist with the odd sounds in the desert, finding the blue lion, ending up in space fighting a war, red paladin of voltron. it was all keith. yet he wasn’t here. lance loved him, but he also hated him. he wasn’t sure how many more times he’d end up feeling that same sentiment.

the team…drifted. hunk and pidge paired off while allura and shiro paired off leaving lance and coran. coran was a nice, funny, odd man that reminded lance of his father back home. coran’s crazy, kooky exterior melted away when it was just them two and lance felt the same happen with him. coran talked of altea before it all, his husband and their son. lance talked of home too, every detail he could remember from earth and his family. lance busied himself with training or helping coran around the castle. he tried with the rest of the team, but things were pretty tense and his loud, jovial nature wasn’t exactly welcome all things considered. he tried to be shiro’s second as he had been keith’s. he offered his input and his plans but they were tossed aside without a moments thought. he was belittled for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong when he tried to speak up at their meetings. he was not shiro’s second, he was keith’s piss poor replacement as he had been at the garrison. he quieted and kept to himself. he stuck to the walls with crossed arms or locked himself on the training deck for hours at a time. shiro was off, a but different but lance couldn’t put his finger on it. the way he looked at them all sometimes was eerie. his eyes were empty and void and unsettling. after being shouted at on the bridge during a meeting,

he really couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself. he thought getting it out in the open would ease the worry off his shoulders and, if it didn’t, then whoever he spoke to could laugh off his worries to properly ease his mind, help him see sense. lance told coran. coran did not laugh. he did not brush off lance’s worries. he all but confirmed them. he said how he had found shiro’s behavior odd and the shouting really sent the point home. shiro before had never yelled, not like that (bar slav but that was understandable). the rest of the team also sought lance out to share their same opinions. lance took it all in stride despite the heavy dread settling over his shoulders. in agreement, the team trailed down to the bay and sat in front of the black lion. instead of the slow, patient meditation where they would ascend into the astral plane, it felt more like they were snatched and hauled up into it. they found shiro there, the real shiro, the dead shiro. they weren’t sure who was on the ship, but it wasn’t their leader. they all remained in the astral plane as they talked over a plan.

lotor considered their line of questioning and shared the witch’s experiments while he was there and gathered that if shiro was anything, he was most likely a clone. there were other options such as shapeshifter or droid disguised as shiro but both were easily disproven as if shiro were a shapeshifter, there would’ve been moments when he tripped up and either didn’t remember something or acted too different from the shiro they knew. if shiro were a droid disguised as shiro, well…their capabilities of such a thing were lacking. the droids the galran empire had were only good for fighting and even then they were pretty lackluster. the witch had an odd fascination with life and death so the chances of shiro being one of her experiments at recreating life were incredibly high.

lance didn’t trust lotor either but he knew they needed all the aid they could get so he bit his tongue and allowed lotor to remain in close cohorts with all of them. they staged a coup and overpowered the shiro on the ship. unable to kill him, they froze him in a pod and kept him locked in the floor of the infirmary. with the loss of her spy, haggar launched an attack on voltron. tens of hundreds of galran ships warped to their position but their appearance was quickly followed by hundreds of thousands of rebel ships and military ships from those in the coalition. the blade managed to send a few ships, though at lance’s poking and prodding, kolivan relayed that keith wouldn’t be there as he hd been out of a mission for the past couple of weeks and hadn’t returned yet. heavier dread settled over lance but he had no choice then to ignore it and fight with the rest of his team against the galran attack.

with a great sense of deja vu, lance found himself locked out of the red lion. he groaned and complained to him as they didn’t have time for this but red didn’t budge. lance spoke to coran through his comms that red wouldn’t let him in and the older man appeared in the bay at frightening speed. they talked it over and red allowed coran to enter and pilot him. as coran stepped into red’s maw, black let out an ear-shattering roar. the deja vu was never ending as lance found himself rushing toward black and taking a seat at the helm. the castle ship was put on autopilot, it kept its shield up as it fired at passing galran ships whilst the rest of the team flew around in their lions taking on ship after ship. as rebel and coalition ships began to fall, the team formed voltron and took out the ships with ease.

it was odd, finally being in charge. finally being recognized. being turned to for guidance with unwavering trust. it was something he had always dreamed of, something he envied keith for, something he truly didn’t want when he finally got it. how could they look to him? how could black choose him? he was just a boy from cuba, one out of a family of seven, twelve counting his sister in law, niece and nephew, and grandma and grandpa. he was a cargo pilot who had no business being in the fighter pilot class. he became a paladin by sheer luck, luck attributed to keith kogane. even now, as black paladin, he only received that position because shiro was out of commission and keith was on a mission for the blade. the moment keith returned, the lion would return to keith and lance would go back to being his second, ignored at best, yelled at at worst. as of now, he was keith’s stand in. he just had to make it until keith returned. problems arose practically ever minute and lance tried to imagine keith and how he would respond before making a decision. he’d stand still as he took in the information, pointer finger and thumb brushing together as he thought it over, and finally respond.

he checked practically every minute of every day for a response from keith or a change in status from kolivan, but neither ever came. keith was still on a mission. he had been for weeks. lance stood on shaky legs as he led the team. he hesitated and was indecisive. he froze up when they turned to him to make a decision. he was not a leader. he wasn’t who they were looking for. they needed keith. he needed keith. lance would spend his time in the bridge, a line ringing endlessly in hopes of keith finally picking up, as he looked over the battle plans and made tweaks and adjustments as he saw fit. allura joined him once and merely watched as he worked. she chuckled to herself suddenly and mentioned how with the clone as their leader, she had forgotten what it was like with keith as their leader. she had forgotten that lance was once their strategist, that he had been part of the duo that made all the decisions for the team.

coran also joined him after allura left. he let lance ramble aloud about the plans until he ran into an issue he couldn’t resolve quite yet. he stood still as he rubbed his thumb and pointer finger together. coran smiled and exhaled sharply. he said softly how he had not seen lance “like this” in quite some time. at lance’s questioning look, coran explained how lance had been so confident and sure of himself when he led with keith. under the clone’s leadership, lance had been shaken and wasn’t sure of himself anymore. the lance of the past few months was quiet and hesitant, unsure and unsteady, whilst the lance who led with keith was confident and self-assured. he made these decisions for the team and didn’t second guess himself once. yes, he thought over his plans from every angle to ensure the team was as safe as could be, but he never doubted himself. coran supposed it was keith’s unwavering faith, loyalty, and trust in lance. keith followed lance’s decisions just as much as the team followed keith’s.

lance watched coran leave after ruffling his hair and slowly turned back to the messy draft of a battle plan. lance’s gaze shifted over to his stilled hand where he had been rubbing his thumb and pointer together since running into the issue. he had been doing the same motion since becoming black paladin. it was oddly familiar. he swore he had seen…keith do it. it was keith’s unique tick that he did when stressed or emotional and trying to compose himself. lance had stolen it. allura and coran’s words echoed in his mind as he thought back to the short period of time with keith as black paladin. lance had felt like he finally found his footing there. he felt seen and heard and appreciated as he and keith led the team together. keith’s trust in his decisions, lance’s ability to match each of keith’s weaknesses to balance the team. here lance was now, leading the team all on his own, and he felt his own weaknesses exposed to the elements at the loss of his samurai.

well, the whole time he had been thinking what would keith do. he had been leading like he still had keith. perhaps that was the problem. he was leading like half of a whole rather than black paladin. lance looked up at the trilling line on the screen of the bridge. keith was on a mission. he was not on the ship. it was lance and his team. lance reached up and ended the ringing line. he had to lead like it. lance watched lotor closely for days but still couldn’t find any issue with him. weeks passed and things sailed smoother than before. lance still froze up in meetings and hesitated before making big decisions, but he stopped looking to his side for keith’s input. just as they fell into the new normal, keith returned. he flew into the castleship with a teleporting black and blue wolf, a tall galran woman that looked suspiciously like him, and (most peculiar) an altean. as well as a growth spurt that came with bulging muscles. not that that was important. what was important was that keith finally gave lance the reason why lotor was so hard to trust.

in the hours waiting for lotor and allura to return, lance lead keith to the infirmary to see the still clone body and retold everything that had happened while he was gone. keith’s face cycled through a few emotions but he quickly forced them back behind a mask of indifference and he nodded. the two of the returned to the bridge to wait for lotor to return to confront him. allura was heartbroken and enraged at the news and had taken to fighting lotor herself. outnumbered and surrounded, lotor surrendered and allowed himself to be taken to the dungeons of the castle. it was unnerving that the castle had dungeons and lance never knew despite his wanderings over the years, but he let it go. lotor was taken into the belly of the castle in chains while keith mourned his brother once more. maybe it was the news of her people that had survived only to be farmed for experiments that gave her the idea, but allura thought of a way to bring shiro, their shiro, back.

the clone’s body was taken down to the bay where allura pressed her hands to the black lion. she began to glow and she walked toward the limp body and placed her hands to it’s chest and head. the light around her body flowed down her arms and hands and into the body on the table. after a few seconds, the body took a breath and cracked open it’s eyes. lively eyes. loving, kind, and caring eyes. shiro’s eyes. shiro was put back in the infirmary as he got used to being alive again. coran stepped back from the red lion and turned the mantle back over to lance without complaint. lance did the same with the black lion to keith. instead of it feeling bitter, lance felt more at peace. being a nobody was horrible, unbearable, but being the somebody that everyone turned to for help and guidance was not very fun either. he was content to be second in command, right hand man, three points behind keith. only, keith took back the black lion but didn’t let lance fall back into the shadows. they fell back into the same dynamic they had before, two halves of one whole, two leaders that complimented each other, that met one another’s weakness with their strengths, that balanced each other, that made a damn good team.

[wolves-in-the-world]

deciding for my heart that molly gives eliot the stuffed panda once things are all over. because it's the one she shoved at him to keep track of anyway, and because it was a bit funny seeing this dork of a tough guy folding his arms looking bored and inadvertently hugging it while she ran off to play more games - and because she feels a bit guilty that he got hurt helping her, even if it was kind of her dad's fault in the end.

it's a get well soon present. and it's an even starker contrast against the genuinely scary guy she knows he is after he saved her life, even though the scariness was never aimed at her, and even though it takes her a little time to really appreciate the humour of it.

and frankly? because it's important to me to picture him settling down in bed, still bruised and sore and arranging pillows so he won't wake up in any more pain than he has to - but past the point where he has to pay nurse gail to keep an eye on him - and setting down the panda on the bedside table. where he can see it.

[thestargayzingetherian]

Glimmer's Proposal(s)

The moment anyone ever asked Glimmer about royal heirs and whatnot, the Queen just said "Oh didn't you know, I'm literally married to Adora, Catra and Bow."

Bow's jaw dropped.

"What?!" Adora exlciamed.

"Since when?!" Catra asked, blushing bright red.

Glimmer grinned, opening her hands to reveal three sparkling engagement rings. "SINCE RIGHT THE HECK NOW!"

[setmeatopthepyre]

🚬🚬

pretty please with a cherry on top🥺

wellllll since you asked so nicely <3 here's another daily drabble combo!

[ @118dailydrabble day 8] [118 words] [part of my tommy begins snippets] [follows after this]

🚬 - bad habits aka the dead probie saga

-

Passenger

They decide to carpool, and to Tommy's surprise, there's already another passenger in Emmerson's beat-up pick-up when it rolls to a stop in front of him.

Shaggy black hair. Sunglasses. One arm, sleeveless, muscled, tan, dangling out the window. Tommy doesn't stare.

“Bri, what the fuck?” The passenger says, and it takes a second for Tommy to realize he means Emmerson. “Are you seriously the only short firefighter in LA?”

“Hey, fuck off,” Emmerson laughs and shoves at him. “Make some space, asshole.”

Somehow, the passenger manages to fold himself into the back, and Tommy takes his now vacated seat, grateful for the legroom.

“Tommy, this is my buddy, Victor. He got us the tickets. Vic, meet Tommy.”

-

[make me write

[andiwriteordie]

tonight i am thinking about baby miwi running around the wheelers’ backyard and catching fireflies in little jars together 

[becauseplot]

Phil wakes up in the morning, curled up on his side of the bed, wings splayed out over the empty half of the mattress behind him. As always. Snags his robe off the hook by the bed and shrugs it on and doesn't look at the vacant hook beside it. As always. Half asleep hauls himself out of bed and shuffles into his slippers and opens the blinds; bedroom flooded by golden sunlight, shining on the glass panes of the framed family photos hung up on the walls, drowning them in morning glow. As always.

It's just another morning up here on the wall. He heads down into the basement expecting the usual: finding Tallulah already awake and writing quietly in her diary, listening to her giggle as Phil drags her dead-to-the-world brother out of bed, sending them both off to go get dressed and wash up while he fumbles something together for breakfast.

When he steps into their bedroom, their beds are empty.

The spike of panic is immediate. He knows he put them to bed last night. They're not staying over anywhere else. They weren't anywhere in the front garden. There's no obvious note or sign anywhere that Phil can see. Where did they go? Where are his kids?

But then he hears it---the laughter. Clinking of dishes in the kitchen. The smell of eggs and bacon and beans. Soft Spanish that's low and syrupy-sleepy, still waking up.

Phil walks into the kitchen, and it's like walking into a dream.

The three of them are crowded around the counter, with Chayanne standing on a stepstool to the left and Tallulah standing on a chair to the right. Daylight spills in through the window above the sink and makes the mirage of Missa expertly dicing onions shimmer, body wreathed in warmth.

Missa sets down the knife. He turns around, the off-white of his bone mask almost dandelion in the sun, and Phil just about loses it.

He's relieved. He's disbelieving. He's ecstatic, and he's furious, and he's oddly numb. Something inside him wants to hurl a fist across his jaw; something else wants him to curl a fist around the lapels of his cloak and never let go.

Phil's arms are around him before he even realizes that he's crossed the kitchen.

Missa makes a sound of surprise, arms briefly hovering like this is the last thing he expected, but it doesn't matter---Phil feels him return the embrace a heartbeat later, and Phil sinks into it. A soft noise of anguish dies in his throat; he buries his face in Missa's shoulder and clutches at the back of his cloak and squeezes him like he wants to shatter bone and nestles in closer with the irrational, irrepressible desire to burrow into Missa's chest and fucking live there. Missa would probably let him.

A hand comes to cradle the back of his head. He feels lips and nose land softly in his tangle of unbrushed morning hair.

"Buenos días, querido."

He's home.

[be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie]

Sorry but i will NEVER belive that in the secret mated au Spider gets kidnapped by the RDA.

For me when Lo'ak calls Jake telling him what and who they found Neteyam doesn't wait a single moment.

Lo'ak: "Me, Spider, K-"

Neteyam: "Lo'ak i swear that if Spider gets hurt in any single and possible way, if only an hair is being pull out of him. I will beat the crap out of you"

(I like to think Neteyam is protective of Spider, I will die on this road)

So then Neteyam says to his parents he knows a shortcut, and they practically have to beg him to go slower because their ikrans are almost giving in from fatigue.

Neteyam growls at them, and then say a low apology remebering that those are his parents.

They arrive, he jumps off his ikran, and he founds the others in no time, his parents behind him.

Then bla bla bla fight and bla bla bla

Neteyam during the fight grabs Spider and Tuk and he runs with them were they put the ikrans.

"Tuk you ok?" He asks first and Tuk who is shaken nods and she hugs him tightly.

"Spider are you ok?" Neteyam asks and Spider nods before hugging him tightly too.

"I was so scared i thought- i don't even wanna thought what i thought" Neteyam says

"Is alright dude, I'm okay" Spider reasume him.

"Oh mate, my dear mate" Neteyam says

That how the family finds out, them returning to the others and hearing Neteyam say 'mate' to Spider.

OR

Neteyam getting kidnapped with Spider because there is no way he leaves his mate behind.

I'm so sorry, I have many things to say about this.

FIRST OF ALL, killing myself at Spider calling Neteyam "dude" only for Neteyam to respond with "my dear mate." Like, the audacity. Neteyam's not even worried anymore he's simply like, doubling down on nicknames to combat DUDE. His family find out because he was pissed about being called dude. Now I simply have to headcanon that Spider is calling Neteyam the most platonic, dudebro names possible while Neteyam tries to call him sappier and grosser pet names.

Spider: Hey man, what's up?

Neteyam: Seriously? Hey gorgeous, how are you, BELOVED?

Spider: I'm doing great, thanks, my guy.

Neteyam: Great to hear, sweetness.

Spider: How about you...

Neteyam: Don't say it.

Spider: ...bro.

Neteyam: OH GOD.

Secondly, I still am of the hardcore nocorro mindset where Spider is Neteyam's place to be vulnerable and voice all of his fears and inadequacies. I don't vibe super hard with the idea of any of Spider's relationships being the na'vi character protecting him all the time, I don't think he would accept that. He can handle himself and he would hate being babied. Plus, the Sully's especially are so important to him because they treat him like an equal. So I guess I'm fighting you on this road?

That being said, I do find the idea of Neteyam hiding the fact that he's trying to protect Spider from him, so he's just secretly threatening Lo'ak all the time, whispered fights behind Spider's back or as soon as he leaves, like "that is my mate now not just your dumbass idiot best friend, stop trying to get him killed along with you." And Lo'ak's just threatening to tell Spider about it all the time.

Neteyam: don't bring Spider to that.

Lo'ak: oOH, I'M TELLING HIM YOU SAID THAT.

Neteym: WAIT-

Finally, I can see Spider getting kidnapped while they are secretly mated, just because Neteyam trusts his parents. The drama would be this might be the incident to break that unfailing trust. They are kids, and despite growing up in a battle, their parents are legends. I think it would be a big deal for Neteyam to have them not bring his mate back, even unintentionally. They're supposed to be the perfect people he's living up to, what the fuck is he doing if they can fail? Mental crisis.

Also Tuk on the back of the ikran as Spider and Neteyam reunite:

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝚃𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚕 ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙸𝙼 𝚂𝙾𝙱𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙽𝙶𝙶𝙶𝙶. 𝙸’𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚃𝙼𝙽𝚃 𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚜𝚖 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚞𝚢𝚜 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚍𝚠— 𝙸’𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚊 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚞𝚘’𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚌 𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚟𝚋𝚏𝚋𝚏𝚑𝚍𝚓𝚓 𝙸 𝙻𝙾𝚅𝙴 𝙿𝙱&𝙹 ✊🏾🥲…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢’𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚞𝚘 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚙…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟻𝟷𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛. (𝙶𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝? 𝙱𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚝 = 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 = 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚕𝚘𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜/𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙? 𝚈𝚎𝚊𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚒𝚝, 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝).

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @itzsana-kiddingmenow

@saturnzskyzz @giggly-cloud @savemeafruitjuice

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @tmntalways @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝟷𝟶𝟷% 𝚊 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 <𝟹

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚢𝚎𝚊𝚑𝚑𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚒𝚝!!!

̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙻𝚎𝚝’𝚜 𝚍𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜…𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 /𝚛𝚎𝚏˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Alright. Hear Mikey out on this one, okay? Because in all honesty, this was originally a fire plan. A lit plan. Some might say that the fire from the plan was sooooo hot it was practically blazing due to the fact of how awesome it was.

…okay. Well perhaps maybe people don’t say that exact term but they definitely should!

Anyways, it started off as a pretty chill day for the orange banded teen. I mean, it was Summer for crying out loud! These next few months were supposed to be absolutely nothing but pure chillness.

If your Summer isn’t even a bit chill in the slightest, then you’re doing something totally wrong. 

Daylight savings was over, school was over and most importantly…homework was over! (Besides the fact that Mikey and his brother’s are forced to do dumb reading reports over the break because the school system dumb)…But other than that, Michelangelo was basically free! Free as a bird. 

And so, like any sane studious kid that has been in High school for about a year…Mikey has been doing something he hasn’t done in a while since school started…

…Absolutely nothing.  

He’s been spending the past week or two playing Roblox on his IPad while eating Doritos mixed with Skittles.

Look, don’t even judge until you try, it’s actually pretty good!

But anyways, as Mikey was playing Flee the Facility, he randomly came to terms with the fact that he needed to steal some of his brother’s clothes for today…

Random thought, I know. 

The youngest has (and always will) politely take his brother’s clothes during the Summer— preferably hoodies and/or shirts. It’s basically a forced hand-me-down/Yard sale the youngest turtle always looks forward to. And today marked the 29th of June— 8 days from June 22nd. 

And if you’re unfamiliar, the 22nd of June marked the official end of Spring and official start of Summer! So the smallest turtle’s annual raid of his elder brother’s clothes was loooooong overdue. 

Last Summer, Mikey took Raph’s Detroit Become Human t-shirt, his WWE shirt, one of his polos and one of his The Walking Dead t-shirts (Raph had a TON). 

And the Summer before that, Mikey took Leo’s Squidward hoodie. And…yeah. That was basically it— the eldest was a pretty bland guy and there was really nothing worth taking from his wardrobe. 

So if you did your Math correctly, you would realize that this year it was Donnie’s turn. And so that’s what the youngest of the turtle teens was planning…

How the absolute hell could he take some of his immediate older brother’s clothes without taking ALL of them? 

Because believe it or not, the nerdy turtle of the group had a pretty good fashion taste and sense. His style was simple but not too bland or standout-ish. Donnie’s style was just a simple array of sweatshirts— a piece of clothing the smallest turtle could never EVER have too much of. 

But the tech-y turtle of the family definitely did. Just looking at his side of the shared bedroom, you could see sweatshirts and hoodies galore just scattered everywhere. 

The orange banded mutant looked through the sweatshirts and hoodies, trying to figure out which one he should now claim as his own.

A Sailor Moon hoodie? Too bright. 

An MHA sweatshirt? Too basic. 

An Attack on Titan hoodie? Too edgy. 

The youngest sighed in frustration, digging through his brother’s mountain of clothes before settling on a nice black hoodie with Gojo Satoru on it.

…what? Gojo Satoru was cool! Even though the orange banded turtle had only seen him in TikTok edits…those edit’s were pretty fire.

Just like his plan of taking his brother’s anime merch because he simply just could. 

The orange banded teen looked at himself in the mirror right next to Donnie’s tent, humming the popular yet overused tune that Gojo is associated with to himself, trying (and failing) to do the popular dance. 

“Ugh…how did Donnie do it again…?” The chocolate eyed teen inquired, attempting to do the dance one last time before lightly falling on his shell; the other sweatshirts and hoodies breaking his fall. 

“Dude…” A voice giggled behind him.

Mikey’s eyes widened at the sudden but familiar voice, glancing upwards to lock eyes with the one and only Donatello, peering down at him and smirking. 

“DONNIE!” Mikey shouted in surprise, getting up and whirling around so that he faced his immediate older brother as he tried to look as casual as possible, “Donatello! Dee! Don-bon…what’s…up…?” The youngest grimaced, sending awkward finger-guns as the hood to the hoodie fell down, completely covering his eyes due to how big it was on him. 

The elder snickered, putting a hand over his mouth as he tried to stifle them a little. “Oh shut up…” Mikey huffed, taking the hood off as the other turtle chuckled in amusement again, going to his younger brother and standing right next to him.

“My sweatshirt literally engulfs you.” The turtle that wielded glasses chuckled soflty which only caused the youngest to roll his eyes annoyed at the entire situation. “Shut. Up.” He pouted, crossing his arms as he glared at his older brother, “It looks good on me!”

“It swallows you…” The other said back. 

“I’LL SWALLOW YOU!” Mikey retorted, turning away from his brother angrily. 

The purple loving teen sighed fondly and laughed slightly at the automatic retort, raising a teasing brow at his younger brother, “Are you attempting at trying to look like me~?” 

The orange banded turtle blushed profusely, glaring at the other turtle’s question, “HELL NO.”

“Thehen why do you hahave the hoodie I wear literally everywhere? You know damn well Gojo is my go-to anime character of all time.”

Michelangelo grumbled, looking to the side of him as he swayed his arms at his sides. Okay…well, perhaps out of context it did seem like he was trying to look like Donnie. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t.

The only reason why the youngest “steals” clothes from his brother’s is because…well, he can and it’s easy. And it’s just…sorta comforting in a way. Not the stealing part…but…

Look— it’s dumb and confusing don’t think about it too much. 

The elder teen huffed out a small laugh, “Why did you choose my Gojo Satoru hoodie of all things, though?” 

“…I keep seeing him on TikTok and he’s the only anime character that hasn’t made me cry out of cringe in a way...” 

“Ooookay. Good for you, bud.” Donnie nodded, putting his hand out “Now give it here. Me and the TMLBANOT21stC are meeting later today to have a JJK meeting.”

The chocolate eyed turtle blinked, “Your going to…what…?” 

“My club stands for The Most Logical, Big-minded, Anime Nerds of the 21st century. Duh.” The honey brown eyed mutant said sassily, “Now give me back my hoodie or I’ll be late!” 

Mikey blinked once more, a small cheeky smile plastering on his face, “And what if I don’t want to?” 

“Michaelangelo—“ 

And with that, the smallest turtle ran out of the shared room, moving his legs as fast as he could that the other in the room just saw an orange and green blur sprint past him. 

“MIKEY!!!” Donnie howled angrily, running out of the room to catch up with him. The second youngest bumped in between the two eldest turtles, quickly apologizing to them as he ran after the youngest.

The leader in blue scratched his head confused, “Should we…?”

“Nah.” Raph commented. 

.

.

.

.

.

.

Donnie was internally groaning. If he couldn’t get his hoodie back from his brother in the next 10 minutes he would be late to his own club. 

Imagine that.

…Exactly! You can’t. 

The second youngest looked around the living room, trying to figure out just where his little brother was. In the last couple of years, the honey brown teen didn’t really mind the youngest taking some of his clothes (even if Donnie would’ve preferred him just normally asking).

But Donnie needed this hoodie. More than anything and one way or another he would get it. 

Suddenly…an idea popped into the geniuses brain, smirking widely as he leaned on the wall. He closed the door without stepping outside of the kitchen, still in the room to make it seem like he left. The youngest peeked from behind the couch, him and his brother making immediate eye contact. 

Ha. Got em. 

The anime loving turtle basically lunged at the smaller turtle, sitting on top of him as the other tried to squirm away. “I GOT YOU, YOU LITTLE TURD!” The purple cladded teen smirked triumphantly, crossing his arms and watching amusedly as his little brother tried to escape. 

“Just give me back my hoodie, man. You’re making it seem like I’m asking you for your liver.” 

“YOU DID ONCE!!!” 

“That was for a Bio experiment.” The elder corrected almost immediately, “But that’s not the point just— UGH! Give me my dang hoodie!!!” 

“NO!!!”

The purple banded turtle glared, uncrossing his arms as he wiggled his fingers in the air, “Wanna do this the hard way? Because we can do the hard way, little brother…”

The brown eyed mutant paled, shaking his head back and forth at the question. Well…this didn’t go exactly as planned.

Donnie just scoffed, his hands immediately going for the other’s underarms but Mikey put his arms down, sputtery giggles escaping his mouth as he did so. “P-Plehease! Deehee!”

“Don’t 'plehease Deehee' me! Give back me back my JJK hoodie!”

“BuHUT—“

The elder turtle lost his patience, effortlessly raising the other’s arms as he scribbled his free hand’s fingers all over his underarms. The smallest turtle squawked, falling into loud giggles. He kicked his legs underneath his older brother, “DOHOHON— NOHO!”

“Someone is sensitive here!” Donnie mused.

“STAHAP— I AHAM NAHAT!!”

“You’re not? Not what~? Ticklish~?” The anime loving turtle asked, his smiled widening as he saw how flustered his baby brother was getting. “STAHA— STAHA-! DEEHEE!” Mikey shrieked, “NOHO TEEHEEASING!”

The glasses wielding teen gasped dramatically, “No teasing? You take my hoodie and now you’re telling me what to do?” 

“NONONONO WAH— *squeal* WAHAHAIT!!!”

The tech whiz wasted no time prodding his thumbs on the youngest hips. The brown eyed teen squealed loudly, hugging his middles and just not even trying to stop Donnie’s hands at this point.

The last time he attempted to, his immediate older brother spent the next half an hour scribbling the orange banded teen’s palms…

That was hell in itself and Mikey was not trying to relive that again if he could help it.

“Awe…does this tiiiickle? Is this tickling you~? Maybe that’s cuz you’re reeeaally ticklish here…” 

“IHI— *squeal* QUIHIHIET!” Michelangelo demanded loudly. 

Donnie smiled at the weak retort, kneading the other’s hips harder, “What happened to all that smugness, hm? Where’d it all go, little guy~? Do I have you in a giggly puddle because your tickle tickle ticklish and I’m tickle tickle tickling you~?”

“STAHAHAP *squeal* SAHAHAYING *squeal* THAHAT, AHAHASHOLE!!!”

“Stop saying what~? Tickle? Ticklish—?”

The orange banded teen squealed loudly once more, accidentally cutting his brother off with his teasing. The glasses wielding teen couldn’t help but laugh softly at it, “Awe…look at my baby brother…” Donnie cooed. 

“NAHAHAHA!” The youngest threw his head back in loud laughter as Donnie now tickled the sides of his shell. Mikey arched his back, trying to buck his older brother off of him but Donnie held on easily, continuing to tickle him. 

“PLEHEASE! PLEHEHEASE!!!” 

“'Plehease'? Please what~?”

“JUHUST *squeal* NAHAT *hic* THE SHEHELL!” Mikey despretley cried, turning to his side as other small hiccups followed as the end of the hoodie went up a bit, revealing some of his plastron. 

The honey brown eyed turtle giggled at the perfectly played out action, “Oh…would you look at that~!” He mused, “Last chance to give me back my hoodie, bro.”

The smaller turtle’s eyes widened in realization, looking up at his brother from the corner of his eye, “Yohou *hic* wohohoudn’t…!”

“Oho wouldn’t I~?” Donnie grinned, gently holding Mikey’s waist and blowing multiple upon multiple raspberries on his stomach whilst scribbling his nails on his sides. “DAHAH— *squeal* DAHANNIE!” Mikey cried. 

“Jeez…your mega ticklish here, huh?”

“SHUHUT— GEHET— PLEHEHEASE!!!” The brown eyed teen rambled through his laughs, shaking his head. 

“Why— would— I???” The tech whiz mocked playfully, now blowing raspberries on his little brother’s neck and scribbling his fingers all over his stomach. “NAHAHAT THEHERE!! BROHOHO COHOME OHAHAN!!” The youngest squealed and squeaked. 

Donatello smirked, ceasing his 100% justified attack for a second, “You saying 'nahahat thehere' is genuinely so funny, Mikes. Like, I was going to tickle you here regardless but, hey! Thanks for confirming how badly it tickles for you.”

He resumed his tickling onslaught on his younger brother, the younger brother in question basically falling limp due to how hard he was laughing. The only body parts that were really fighting for his life right now were his legs, that still did not cease desperately kicking the floor. 

The purple banded turtle now started lightly giving ticklish nibbles on his younger brother’s neck as his light scribbles on the smaller turtle’s sides became quick and fast squeezes. “Om nom nom! Hm…you taste like…giggles! And ticklishness~! My favorite food combo!” The elder teased. 

“DEEHEE DEEHEEHEE?! WHAT DOHOES THAHAT EHEHEVEN MEEHEEAN?!?!” Mikey cried desperately, his voice sounding like a tea kettle brewing because of how squeaky and high pitched it was.

“Awe…you haven’t used that nickname for me in ages~! It must tickle that bad, huh?” The glasses wielding turtle cooed.

“IHI *hic* CAHAN’T!”

“You can’t~? Can’t what~?”

“IHIT— *hic* NAHAHAH!” Mikey silently wheezed, throwing his head back as he shut his eyes tight. “Is someone giving me the silent treatment?” Donnie snickered, “Pfft— get it? Cuz you’re laughing silently~? Eh? Eh?”

Okay, even if Mikey was the comedian of the family, he would’ve admitted that was a pretty solid joke if he wasn’t getting slaughtered right now. “FIHINE FIHINE *hic* HAHAVE *hic* IHIHIT BAHACK!!! TAHAKE IHIHIT!! PLEHEASE *hic* JUHUST STAHAHAP *squeal* I’M GOHONNA *squeal* DIHIHIE!!!”

“That would be kiiiiiiiinda funny making your grave honestly.” The tech loving teen smugly said, “Michelangelo Hamato. Reason of death? Being too freaking ticklish.”

“DEEHEEHEE!!!” The youngest cried. Donnie stopped, getting up and laying next to his brother, wrapping him in a side hug which the smaller turtle immediately melted to. “May I plehease hahave my hoodie back?” 

“Ihi juhust sahaid yehehehes!” The orange banded teen groaned, literally throwing the hoodie at his immediate older brother. The anime loving teen smiled, putting on the hoodie as he grinned in triumph. “For real real. I feel like new...” He said to himself proudly. 

And if the youngest knew his brother (which he did), that was probably a quote that that Gojo fellow has said. 

“Oh! And by the way, little bro. My club doesn’t have a meet up today. It’s tomorrow.” Donnie snickered, walking away and leaving Mikey left in complete and utter awe. 

That freaking asshole.

Okay, well now Mikey’s definitely taking that MHA hoodie next year.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[duckie-deer-prompts]

Duckie Deer Prompt #24

Alphabet Prompt #3: Charcuterie

When Lucifer had been asked to shower before they had dinner in Alastor's room, this wasn't what he'd had in mind.

Alastor instructed him to strip down to his boxer briefs and lay on the fluffy towel that'd been spread on the table (with a hand from Alastor to steady him.) He'd then been given a pillow for under his head and knees.

"I'm all for foreplay but I thought we were having dinner." Lucifer asked.

"We are, my dear," he reassured him, before bringing out small containers of various finger foods. Without warning, he began laddling different sauces, placing crackers and arranging meats, fruits and vegetables along strategic spots on Lucifer's exposed body.

[yellowdevilkitten]

This is for the lovely @a-little-unsteddie hope this was what you were wanting!

“No, no way Chris.” Eddie starts his monologue the same way he’s been starting his monologues lately. Eddie knew Chrissy was a troublemaker that’s what made them best friends in the first place. So he doesn’t really know what he could’ve expected when Chrissy asked him to be her maid of honor(he’s honored really!) but it definitely wasn’t to come get a manipedi with the rest of the bridesmaids. Why does she need a manipedi anyways, her nails are looking great as ever(acrylic with tiny gemstones a light purple-ish color).

“Why not? You paint your nails. What's so wrong with somebody painting yours for you? Plus you get a free massage out of it.” She agrees, clearly done with the conversation they’ve been having for the past thirty minutes.

 Eddie doesn’t hate the idea of of getting a manipedi he just prefers to do his nails himself and honestly he’s offended that chrissy doesn’t think he’s capable of his nails turning out nice and neat(he isn’t he gets too impatient and they typically turn out smudge, chipped, and smushed). The part that he isn’t going to enjoy is all the gossip and don’t get him wrong he loves gossip but he doesn’t enjoy listening to middle aged women gossip about how much they hate their husbands.

 He also knows that the bridesmaids and Chrissy are all going to gossip but he’s heard all that gossip before, plus he knows he’s not going to be able to sit still for X amount of time. So Eddie going to go get a manipedi is a bad idea for many reasons but chrissy doesn’t seem to be budging and he knows it’s her wedding and she knows that he’s going to say yes either way and him denying is all for good fun. 

He lets out a dramatic and long sigh before ending the conversation. “Fine, I’ll go.” He puts his hands up in a surrender after he says that so Chrissy knows he’s serious. Her answering smile is everything Eddie needs to know this is a great idea. 

— The day of the wedding Eddie and the girls are all squished into a car to be pampered(which Chrissy forgot to inform him that they’d also be getting their hair styled, she knows how he feels about his hair, the rat). Which leads them to their last stop, The nail salon which doesn’t look as ominous as he thought. 

He’s squished in the middle between jenna and Molly who is talking enthusiastically over him about some guy name Carl(gag carl was one of the hair stylist doing kelly’s hair he kept making creepy comments about kelly’s hair he honestly doesn't know how jenna and molly can even look at him and see someone worth dating). Eddie doesn’t even realize they have parked too cought up in his thoughts about Carl. 

“Alright you guys ready?” Chrissy asks before opening her car door. 

“Don’t really have a choice.” he mumbles under his breath waiting for the girls to get out of the car so he can. 

—

Once they walk into the salon Eddie’s immediately hit by the smell of nail polish. Before he can register anything other than the overwhelming smell of polish he hears a admittedly handsome voice call out,

“hi, do you have a booking with us?” 

“Uhm-” Eddie starts before Chrissy cuts him off. “Yes we do, it should be under Chrissy Cunningham.” 

The guy, which Eddie realizes has a nametag on that says ‘steve’, walks up to the front desk to type into the computer and he nods his head that Eddie takes to mean he found the name. 

“Okay, it says here everyone is getting a manipedi is that correct?” Hot guy, Steve, double checks. 

“Mhm, expect I’m getting acrylics done too.” Chrissy corrects. 

“Great you ladies and gentleman,” he winks at Eddie, “Can take a seat at those six pedicure chairs after you pick out your colors.” 

He’s off before Eddie can get a word in, Chrissy taps on his arm and he turns toward her. She has a knowing look on her face and he shakes his head no. She shrugs and drags him over to the colors. 

—

Eddie’s amaze at Steve for being able to keep up with all the bitchiness of the girls. Of course Eddie’s not paying that much attention because he’s holding his hand. Nobody told him a hot guy was going to hold his hands for about twenty minutes and he hasn’t even got the polish on yet. If he knew this he would be getting his nails done regularly. 

Even the strong smell of nail polish is bearable with Steve holding his hands. The only disappointing part is that it means nothing, which is a shame really, Eddie can see it now him and Steve could have a life together too bad this is a nail salon and chrissy is about to get married maybe he’d have time to flirt.

 He doesn’t realize he’s squirming in his seat until Steve says, “Relax your hands.” He’s

 pretty sure his face burns red when he says that. 

“It’s okay, it happens all the time.” Steve reassures, which doesn’t really calm Eddie’s nerves but he still tries. 

He looks around the salon to see Kelly talking her nail tech’s ear off and the poor girl is trying her best to keep up. Eddie also realizes that right next to Steve is a girl who isn’t doing any nails but is just chilling there. He also realizes that Steve and the girl are talking together, he worries that maybe the girl is Steve's girlfriend. 

“Robbie, I can’t just ask that I’m at work.” 

“Please, you’ve flirted at work before, dingus.” Robbie(?) responses with a flippant hand. ‘Oh great’ Eddie thinks of course he’s trying to flirt with one of the girls. What else was Eddie supposed to expect? They are all like Carl. It’s pretty disappointing to learn that this guy is just like the rest. 

“Is this the polish you picked out?” oh Steve’s talking to him again, ew is that butterflies in his stomach. He should not be getting butterflies for this straight guy. 

“Yeah.” Eddie says but it comes out as more of a question. 

“Great, it's a lovely color.” Steve replies with a gorgeous smile. Eddie wouldn’t have picked the color if it wasn’t for chrissy it’s a black with hints of purple to match his suit. 

The other bridesmaids are also wearing purple to match Chrissy’s light yellow dress. Chrissy is having a nature theme wedding so her braid is wearing greens and blues. He smiles remembering when he helped chrissy pick out her dress it matches her ring which is a gold butterfly. 

He watches as Steve paints his nails in silence until Steve speaks up. “So what brings you guys into the salon?” 

“Oh, my best friend, Chrissy is getting married and she wanted us all to get manipedis together.” Eddie answers with a small smile. He can’t believe that Chrissy is getting married. It feels just like yesterday since they met. 

“That’s lovely, you got a date to bring with you?” He questions. Eddie’s face burns red for what feels like the tenth time because he does not in fact have a date.

 If he did he’d probably not be blushing everytime he remembers that Steve is holding his hands. Because that’s the most intimate thing ever(how does Chrissy deal with doing this every month?)! Eddie might combust if he thinks about Steve holding his hands one more time. 

“No, no I do not.” Eddie answers with a shake of his head and accidentally moves his hand. “Shit, shit, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine you’ve been doing it the whole time.” Steve shrugs. That just serves to make Eddie blush harder, why hadn’t he asked Eddie to stop? Any other person would’ve gotten pissed by now. 

“Annnnd you’re done.” The girl calls from Steve’s shoulder. He sees Steve shoot her a glare. 

“Well technically you aren’t done, you still have to dry.” Steve points where the rest of the girls minus chrissy are talking with their hands under a table. He nods before standing up(he tries to be mindful of his nails). 

—

Once everyone’s nails are done it’s time to check out. Eddie mentally prepares himself for the price of the treatment. Molly and Danielle are both looking at their nails and gossiping about some boy named David at work. Chrissy is talking to her nail tech, which he believes his name is Win, short for Winston. Jenna and Kelly are talking to the girl next to Steve, who he believes goes by Robbie. Eddie’s just standing by the desk waiting for one of them to check them out. 

“Alright, are you guys ready?” Eddie startles when he hears Steve’s voice from behind him. 

“Uh- yes.” He says, sounding unsure. 

“How are you paying?” Steve questions with an encouraging smile. 

“Split payment, hey Chris it’s split payment six way even, right?” Eddie shouts hoping to catch her attention. 

“Yes, yes.” She waves him off with a cheeky smirk. 

“You heard the lady.” He smirks at Steve. 

“I put it all on separate payments. If you want to start, you can put your card in the reader.” Steve grins. 

Eddie pays for his then Jenna, Kelly, Danielle, Molly, and then Chrissy. Before they walk out Steve hands him a piece of folded paper that has the nail salon and the number to call. 

—

Before he walks into the venue for Chrissy to get married off he unfolds the paper and realizes it reads, ‘I enjoyed holding your hands hoping I can hold your hands for a different reason  -Steve��� with his number to call him. 

Eddie smiles to himself and folds the paper and puts it in his breast pocket before walking into the venue because first he needs to watch his best friend get married.