#and by god they should do that and have fun doing that!! but like

[roturo]

Gojo Satoru who's beginning to fall in love with his sugar baby!

read pt 1 and pt2, before continuing.

Gojo stood outside your door, the weight of every choice he'd made— or refused to make— pressing down on him. He should walk away. That's what he'd always done when things got too real, too messy. But tonight, he couldn't. Not when the thought of someone else touching you, knowing you the way he did, was driving him to the brink.

He raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the sound of muffled voices reached him. His breath hitched when he heard it: a man's voice. Deep, unfamiliar, and entirely too close to you.

His knuckles hit the door harder than intended. Once. Twice. A warning knock, sharp and unrelenting.

When you answered, you were startled, your eyes widening slightly before narrowing in frustration. You stepped into the doorway, just enough to block his view of the inside.

"Satoru," you said, your tone clipped. "What are you doing here?"

His gaze swept over you, lingering on the slight flush in your cheeks and the way your hair was a little out of place. He noticed the faint hum of music in the background, and it made his stomach churn.

"Who is he?" Gojo asked, his voice cold, biting.

You blinked, your expression hardening.

"Excuse me?"

"Don't play dumb," he snapped, his eyes narrowing. "I heard him."

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. "That's none of your business."

Gojo laughed, a low, humorless sound.

"None of my business? That's funny, coming from someone who let me fuck them like they meant something just a few weeks ago."

You flinched, but you didn't back down. "And whose fault is that, Satoru? You're the one who made it clear this wasn't real. You said it yourself-no strings, no feelings. So why do you care now?"

"I don't," he said quickly, too quickly. His jaw tightened, and he shoved his hands into his pockets, his voice dropping. "I just didn't think you'd move on so fast."

Your eyes flashed with anger. "Move on?

God, you're unbelievable." You stepped forward, poking a finger into his chest. "You don't want me, but you can't stand the idea of someone else wanting me either. Do you even hear yourself?" You know you’re repeating yourself, he always knew there was danger in the heat of your touch.

Before he could answer, the sound of footsteps approached, and Gojo's entire body went rigid. The other man appeared behind you, his figure tall and broad, his expression casual but watchful as his hand rested lightly on your shoulder.

Gojo's eyes locked on the man's hand, and something inside him snapped. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his voice dripping with venom. "This guy?"

"This guy has a name," you said, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

"Leo. And unlike you, he actually knows how to show up."

Gojo laughed again, this time louder, harsher.

"Show up? That's your bar? Someone who shows up? Congratulations, sweetheart, you've really hit the jackpot."

"Stop it," you hissed, stepping between them. "You don't get to do this, Satoru. You don't get to come here, throw a tantrum, and act like you care. Because if you cared, you would've been here weeks ago."

"Maybe I didn't think you'd be so quick to spread your legs for someone else," he shot back, his voice low and sharp.

The slap came before you even realized you'd raised your hand. The sound echoed in the small space, and Gojo's head snapped to the side, his cheek stinging from the force.

"Get out," you said, your voice trembling with rage and something far more fragile. "Go home, Satoru. Wherever the hell that is. Just... leave me alone."

For a moment, he didn't move. He stared at you, his eyes burning with a mix of anger and something far more vulnerable. Then his gaze shifted to Leo, who stood silently behind you, his presence steady in a way Gojo's never was.

Gojo's lips curled into a bitter smirk. "Fine," he said, stepping back. "Have fun with your rebound." His words were laced with venom, but his voice cracked just enough to betray him.

He turned and walked away, the sound of the door slamming behind him echoing in his chest. As he disappeared into the night, he realized that for the first time in his life, he'd lost something he couldn't get back.

And it was his own damn fault. He saw forever so he smashed it up.

Gojo didn't go far. He stopped at the end of the hallway, leaning against the wall with a hand buried in his hair. His mind was a mess, replaying the slap, the way your voice cracked, the sight of another man standing behind you like he had any right to be there.

The image burned in his chest, feeding the fire of his jealousy until it was an inferno. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't have cared. But he did. And that was the problem.

As much as he wanted to walk away and let pride win, his feet wouldn't move. Instead, he found himself circling back, hovering near your door like a ghost, the muffled sound of your laughter with Leo scraping against his nerves like broken glass.

He didn't knock this time. Instead, he pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear the words exchanged between you.

"Leo," your voice came softly, the warmth in it like a knife to Gojo's gut. "I'm sorry about that. I didn't expect him to-"

"It's fine," Leo said, his tone calm, reassuring. "Do you want me to stay? Just in case?"

Gojo's jaw clenched so hard it hurt. He could picture it-Leo staying the night, slipping into your bed, touching you like he belonged there. It was unbearable.

His hand hovered over the doorknob, the shared key in his pocket burning like a brand. He shouldn't. He couldn't. But before he could stop himself, the door creaked open.

The room went silent.

You turned first, eyes wide in disbelief as Gojo stepped inside, his figure towering, his presence suffocating. Leo stood beside the couch, his posture tensing as Gojo's icy blue eyes flicked to him, then back to you.

"What the hell are you doing?" you demanded, your voice shaking with a mix of anger and disbelief.

"Didn't realize we were locking doors now," Gojo said coolly, his gaze settling on Leo. "I thought I still had a key."

Leo raised an eyebrow, his expression unbothered but his stance steady. "You need to leave man. You're not welcome here."

Gojo ignored him, his attention fixed solely on you. "Is this really what you want?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "A guy who'll just stand here while someone else walks into his girl's apartment?"

Your mouth fell open in shock, anger flashing in your eyes. "Don't you dare call me your girl. You lost the right to say that the second you decided I wasn't enough for you."

Something in Gojo's expression cracked, the cool facade slipping for a moment. "You were always enough," he said, his voice low.

"That's the problem."

The words hung heavy in the air, and for a split second, the tension shifted. His vulnerability shone through, raw and unfiltered, and you could see it—the part of him he always hid, the part that hurt just as much as you did.

But Leo stepped forward, his hand on your arm. "You don't have to listen to this," he said softly, his presence grounding you.

Gojo's gaze dropped to where Leo touched you, his fists clenching at his sides. "Get your hand off her," he said, his voice low and dangerous— this dude clearly didn’t know a shit about him.

The dopamine races through his brain, his hand so calloused from his power, his eyes softly trace hearts on you face behind the black obscure glasses— and you could see it from a mile away, it’s a perfect case for your certain skill set.

He had a halo of the highest grade, "Or what?" Leo challenged, his calm exterior finally cracking.

You stepped between them, your hands outstretched. "Stop.” you shouted, your voice breaking. "Both of you, just stop"

Gojo froze, his chest heaving with barely contained rage. His eyes locked on yours, and for the first time, he looked small. Lost.

"You don't want him," he said, his voice soft but urgent, like a plea. "You don't. He can't give you what I can."

"And what's that?" you shot back, tears brimming in your eyes. "More pain? More nights wondering where you are, who you're with? I'm done, Satoru. I'm done waiting for you to figure out how to care about me."

"You think I don't care?" he asked, stepping closer, his voice trembling. "You think I don't hate myself for every second I spent away from you? For every time I chose someone else over you because I was too scared of What you meant to me?"

Your breath hitched, the tears spilling over now. "Then why didn't you stay?"

Gojo stood there, his knuckles white as they clenched into fists. The heat of your words— the finality in them-wrapped around his chest like a vice. He was losing you, and the worst part? He knew it was his fault.

"You think I didn't want to stay?" he asked, his voice low and bitter. "I wanted to, but I-" He cut himself off, his gaze darting to Leo like he couldn't bear to finish the thought with him in the room.

"You what, Satoru?" you demanded, stepping closer, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "You wanted to, but you chose not to. Every. single. time."

The sound of your voice triggered a memory, one he couldn't push away.

"Say it," you'd whispered, your breath warm against his neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair as he pinned you beneath him on your bed, your bodies tangled in the sheets. "Tell me I mean something to you."

Gojo's laugh had been low and soft, almost tender. "You're trouble, that's what you are," he'd said, brushing his lips against your collarbone. But he hadn't answered—not the way you wanted him to. Instead, he'd kissed you, slow and deep, swallowing the words he couldn't say.

He shook his head, forcing himself back to the present. "You don't get it," he said, his voice cracking. "I wasn't enough for you. I'm still not. You deserve someone better than me."

"You don't get to decide that," you snapped, your voice shaking with fury. "You don't get to break me and then act like it's for my own good."

The weight of your words hit him like a punch, but he didn't back down. "I was protecting you!" he shouted, his frustration spilling over.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head.

"Protecting me? Is that what you call it?” You know you can handle a dangerous man. “Leaving me alone in bed while you text other women? Making me feel like I was just another name on your list?"

You'd been straddling him on the couch, the glow of the city lights filtering through the windows. His hands gripped your waist, his lips devouring yours like he was starving. "You're addictive," he'd murmured, his voice husky. "You're going to ruin me."

"Then let me," you'd whispered back, your forehead resting against his. For a moment, his eyes had softened, his walls crumbling just enough for you to see the man underneath the bravado. But by morning, he was gone, leaving only a note and the faint scent of his cologne.

"I never wanted to hurt you," Gojo said now, his voice softer, like he was trying to reach the part of you that still might care. "But I didn't know how to keep you without losing myself."

You swallowed hard, the rawness in his voice tugging at something deep inside you. But before you could respond, Leo stepped forward, placing a hand on your back. The touch was steady, grounding, and it pulled you back to the present with a disgust, not because of the memory, but because it wasn’t the touch you desired.

"She doesn't need this, man," Leo said, his voice calm but firm. "You've done enough."

Gojo's eyes snapped to Leo, his anger flaring again. "And what exactly do you think you are to her?" he asked, his tone sharp and biting. "Some knight in shining armor? You don't know her like I do."

"Don't hide from me," he'd said one night, his fingers trailing down your bare spine as you lay together in the dark. "You're beautiful, and you don't even see it. It drives me insane." His lips had brushed against your shoulder, his breath warm as he whispered, "Let me show you."

And he had-slowly, reverently-his hands mapping every inch of your body like he was memorizing you. In those moments, he'd been yours entirely. But they never lasted.

"She's not yours anymore," Leo said, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. "And maybe she never was."

He looked at you, his eyes pleading. "Tell him he's wrong," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tell him it wasn't all fake. That it wasn't just some... convenience."

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words wouldn't come. Because it hadn't been fake-not for you. But how could you say that now, when he'd already torn you apart?

Gojo stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "Do you remember that night at the lookout?" he asked, his voice desperate now. "When you told me you'd never felt that way about anyone else? You meant it. I know you did." Handcuffed to the spell you were under, for just one hour of sunshine.

You'd been sitting on the hood of his car, the city lights stretching out below you.

He'd stood between your legs, his hands on either side of your face, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "You're dangerous," he'd said, his voice low. "You make me want things I shouldn't want."

Months of labor, locks and ceilings— In the shade of how he was feeling..

"Like what?" you'd asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Like keeping you," he'd replied, his forehead resting against yours. "Like staying."

You took a shaky breath, your eyes meeting his. "I can't do this anymore, Satoru," you said, your voice breaking. "I can't keep hoping you'll stay when you never do."

Gojo's face crumpled, his mask shattering completely. He reached for you, but Leo stepped between you, his stance protective.

"She said enough," Leo said firmly. "It's time for you to leave."

For a moment, Gojo looked like he might fight back, his hands trembling at his sides.

But then he took a step back, his shoulders slumping.

"This isn't over," he said, his voice hoarse.

"I'll prove to you that I can be better. That I can be what you want.”

[stump-not-found]

we're getting into the cover compositions that start falling apart ! i really adore stan and mabel being outside the frame, bringing in the purple from step V, and the green from step IV . playing with visuals is neat ! drawing those pictures was less neat !

this was the hardest chapter to wrte and sat unfinished for WEEKS . chapter seven wasn't even going to exist, but six got so long i had to split it up . it was wild . for a long time i had no idea what they were even gonna be doing on this planet . there used to be a, like, fortress they needed to break into ?

the family splitting up was always part of the plan, but originally it was because there was a large gate they needed to get through, and ford was gonna go alone until dipper volunteered to go with him . that was back when i was gonna try and have ford persuade dipper into being his apprentice, like he did in the show, because it was weird in the show too . but that sucked and slowed the whole pace down . i much prefer the rift getting escalated for emotional reasons .

was a challenge re enforcing a lot of fords abilities, along with introducing the journal, and trying to find a way to make it entertaining . i really love the response to ford, and one of my favorite things writing him is the way he describes things in the stupidest terms . like the shampoo & conditioner comment . the 30 second audio clips bit makes me think of those shitty cheap plastic toys you'd buy at claire's, where you get like, one minute of an nsync song . i think mabel would have loved those honestly

originally ford was also way more of a dick about mabel, specifically, but i realized i hate that a bit and really tried to punch up how sweet he is on the kids . i'm glad i did that, because i think its a lot stronger narratively that the dude has no ill thoughts towards the kids - dipper's attitude is just him listening, absorbing, and projecting in a way that helps him regain some control over his home situation

lots to say about the kids and their deal, though that could be its own separate thing . i'll just say it went under a lot of revisions, and had a lot of conversations about it . my goal was to have some pushback on the idea that mabel is this emotionally enlightened bastion of truth . god i have a lot i could rant on this point, but i really want to get across it's not a good thing when your 12 yr old niece tries to give you a therapy session . like . that's a bad thing, overall, to be quite honest .

dipper's whole thing is just aaaaaaaaaaaa it's hard to be trans in 2012 . well it's hard to be trans in general . dipper pines i love you i want you to know that you sweaty weirdo . you and your sister are gonna be just fine

it's fun that the kids become less of a background element once both adults in the room start to pay proper attention to them . as i write these chapters, i like to imagine that mabel and dipper are just having a regular ass gravity falls adventure, while the adults are having to walk down trauma lane lalalalal

oh fuck we also get the man in the hallway with his mystery pendant . did anyone see that guy the fuck was up with that . oh well i guess that's not important L O L

oh fuck this was also the professional working relationship chapter what the fuck ... i'm gonna be honest i laugh about that everytime .... the entire scene where bill starts counting his teeth almost got cut which would have been fucking stupid . yes i am referencing macdennis with them . yes ford does tell bill to smoke a cigarette to get rid of the toxins . that's how it SHOULD be . that's how a working relationship GOES

anyways ford and stanley's home life was fucked the fanfiction the movie . yay

bill is in everyone's hallway if you force the perspective enough:

favorite part:

“Dipper, there are… certain quirks of demon containment that are easier to let happen than argue about.” Ford says. Teeth counting is one of the top ones. Along with letting Bill clip his nails when they’ve grown out too long, or cut his hair when it gets too shaggy, or… actually, there’s a lot of things Bill will throw a fit about if Ford fights him over it. Though Ford supposes he has his own list as well, including forcing Bill to do regular blood checks, and have consistent meals with appropriate dietary restrictions. Dipper, clearly, doesn’t get it, and Ford acknowledges he is too young to understand a professional working relationship.

in case anyone was confused about there being anything romantic okay . please review the above paragraph it is VERY clear about the nature of their relationship, thank you

The family gets separated by some stupid metaphors, the kids have some normal and healthy conversations, and both Pines brothers handle the situation very, very well.

Everything's going just peachy, so long as you ignore all the problems.

[starlighttsv]

Paige Bueckers x reader and they wrap presents together for family/friends

Day 1

Gift Wrapping - p.b

Sum: trying to wrap presents with Paige

Warnings: fluff, teasing

Pair: Paige x gf!reader

Note: I feel like this is all over the place so I’m sorry about that 🥲

Wc: 531

My masterlist

“Paige oh my god stop it!” You shout at Paige as she throws another pre-made bow that you did, at you “Why? Where’s the fun in that?” Paige says while starting to make a paper airplane out of the wrapping paper scraps

“This isn’t a “have fun” thing! It’s a I need to get this done before the 25th thing! And it would be nice if you actually decided to help!” You scolded

Paige just laughed “Babe it’s the 20th! Relax, we have time.” You just glare at her “First if you tell me to relax again, I’m never speaking to you again. Second I have to wrap the presents, make the bows, and sign cards all before the 25th while also making multiple batches of cookies and making a few sides for both the 24th and the 25th.” You stress

Paige put her hands up in surrender “Alright I’m sorry, ok? I shouldn’t have told you to relax, and I should have been helping you instead of teasing you. What do you need me to do?” Paige said while she was walking towards you

“Tape those bows and cards to that pile of presents” you said while pointing to at least 10 presents. Paige lets out a breath and shakes her head while walking towards the pile “they’re all already on the present there supposed to be on, you just have to tape them.” You say while starting to go back to wrapping the one gift you have been working on for the last 25 minutes…thanks Paige.

“I got it, I got it, don’t worry. I’m the greatest bow tapper in the world babe. You can’t underestimate me” Paige said making you roll your eyes amusingly “sure, sure ‘greatest bow tapper in the world’ how could I have ever underestimated you?” You say sarcastically tapping one of the flaps on the side down

“I don’t know but it was a big mistake” Paige says dramatically tapping the bow and card down on one present and lifting it up “taaa-daaaa” she practically sings “you didn’t tape the side, the bows falling off.” You teased her, she immediately brings it back down and looks at every side seeing that she in fact didn’t tape one of them. “It’s supposed to be like that.” Paige says confidently while slowly reaching for the tape next to her “uh-huh, is that why you’re reaching for the tape?” You say barely even looking up at her - completely focused on wrapping the next gift.

“I’m not, what are you talking about?” She says while quietly not getting a piece of tape and putting it on the bow to make it stay “you can’t gaslight me Paige. It’s not working.” You say while she starts tapping the bow and card onto the next present “I don’t know what your talking about” she says confidently making you just roll your eyes and keep wrapping presents while she keeps tapping bows on them

[laurellala]

Fun fact! This was the real tipping point that made Edgeworth run away after AA1, they just couldn't show it on screen because they didn't have the rights to Chappell Roan's music <3

(A spiritual successor to my "Hot to Go" joke from this post. Image description under the cut below)

[Image ID: a four page black and white comic of characters from ace attorney.

The Judge stands solemnly at his podium holding a gavel "Mr. Miles Edgeworth, you are on trial for the murder of blah blah blah..."

A cheerful Maya Fey leans over to Miles Edgeworth, who is staring straight ahead and looking very concerned

Maya: "Psst! Mr. Edgeworth! If you win your trial, can I show you Chappell Roan?

Miles: "What the hell, sure." Internally he thinks "Oh God I am going to jail"

A box saying "later" in the top corner of the next panel marks the passage of time.

The Judge smiles as he says "I declare you... Not Guilty!"

We see a full body shot of Maya dancing excitedly while Miles looks on, emotionless

Maya: YIPPEE omg you're going to LOVE this

Miles internally thinks "oh no, the consequences of my actions.

We see Miles standing in between Phoenix Wright and Maya looking apprehensive. Maya beams in excitement, while Nick puts a reassuring hand on Miles' shoulder

Miles: Alright, so what is this exactly?

Nick: She's a pop musician Maya really likes

Maya: You promised you'd let me show you, and it's legally binding because you said it in a court room!

Miles: That is not how the law works Ms. Fey

Maya: Shh just listen!

We see a panel of Miles' pensive face concentrating as he listens to "Hot to Go". He thinks to himself "hm".

Another panel zoomed in more. His pensive expression has grown more tense/confused as he listens to "Red Wine Supernova". he again thinks to himself "Hm" in a larger thought bubble.

We zoom out again to see Nick, Miles, and Maya standing together again. Miles stares forward blankly, eyebrows raised. Maya excitedly leans in.

Maya: Ok, that's her whole discography. So! What did you think?

Nick looks at him, waiting for his response

We get a panel of Miles, looking bewildered. He starts to speak "I..."

We cut again to see the three of them standing together.

Miles: I... don't think I like women?

Miles looks shocked and confused. Nick is bent over laughing, using a hand on Miles's shoulder to support himself. Maya looks outraged and appalled!

Maya: MR. EDGEWORTH! Just because you don' like her musi it doesn't give you an excuse to be sexist!

We see a panel of Miles looking stressed and confused. He leans his head on one of his hands, which messes up his hair, showing how he isn't his normal put together self.

Miles: I should rephrase that. What I mean is, Ms. Roan is clearly VERY assured in her feelings towards women. I was... unaware that anyone felt that strongly. I thought we all viewed these things with a vague sense of distaste and unease but collectively ignored it. Like how we do with climate change.

We zoom out again to see the three of them. Miles stands in the middle looking deeply uncomfortable and lost in thought, vibrating with unease. Nick and Maya exchange deeply concerned glances across from him.

With lingering unease, Miles begins to walk away.

Miles: Well, I should be going then. Goodnight.

Nick hesitantly raises a finger to point out an inaccuracy in that statement

Nick: It's four in the afternoon-

he gets interrupted by Miles who repeats firmly: I said Goodnight

Nick looks in the direction Miles walked off in.

Nick: ...He'll be ok, right?

Maya reassures him: Of cours Nick! I mean, what's the worst that can happen?

Jump cut to a closeup of Nick's hand holding Miles' letter which reads Miles Edgeworth chooses death in all caps. Then, below in smaller font, it says Also femininomenon was really good, thanks.

We see a panel of Nick glaring wordlessly at Maya as he holds the letter in his hand. Maya leans against the wall and looks away, whistling, trying to look innocent to avoid blame.

As a bonus, we also have a page that takes place a year later. Miles and Nick stand talking. Miles looks calmer now, and Nick smiles encouragingly.

Miles: In my time in Europe, I've been examining myself and my approach to law. Ultimately, the most important focus must be justice. We owe it to ourselves and to the people we serve

Nick: Wow, that's really inspiring Edgeworth. And, uh, hows the... the other thing going?

We get a zoomed in panel of Miles glaring menacingly at a suddenly nervous Nick

Jumping out again, Miles turns his back to Nick as he continues to talk

Miles: So as I was saying, justice is truly so important...

Nick nervously rubs the back of his neck wearing an awkward expression as he sweats nervously. He thinks to himself internally "Ooookay then, clearly still working through some things there"

/.End ID]

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I fell in love with an emo… BOY???

Tags: itafushi, megumi x itadori, bl, aged up characters, modern!au, side of SatoSugu, crack, NO SMUT, unserious joke about suicide, maybe some tension and suggestion though, megumi wants that cookie so damn bad, hey what’s junpei doing here???

Synopsis: There should only be ONE emo boy in Itadori’s heart, and it damn well wasn’t going to be the one who died in season one.

An: If you don’t ship itafushi, don’t read this LOL. This was so fun to write honestly. I didn’t take it too seriously. You shouldn’t either. The idea just popped up, and I wanted to write it as a palette cleanser from all the dark shit I’ve been conjuring up.

Megumi was going to need a dentist.

Yep, he was surely going to need to take Gojo’s precious black card and pay for all new veneers because his teeth were practically going to be dust by the time this visit was over.

It shouldn’t bother him this badly. His best friend and long-term crush was only visiting with his childhood best friend.

Itadori was a fucking saint. A ray of sunshine and pretty pink flowers on a rainy day. He exuded kindness and thoughtfulness in everything he did. He was unapologetically himself, even if he was a total dork. He was charming as all hell. It was no wonder how he was so popular.

Megumi wasn’t the only one that was blessed enough to feel his warmth, and that thought was sickening enough.

Usually, the black-haired male didn’t necessarily care about all the attention Itadori received. He didn’t bat an eye when Todo would unabashedly sling his arm across Itadori’s shoulders. He couldn’t care less when Nobara would sit on Itadori’s knees and apply skin care to his face, and he definitely never cared whenever Hana would run up to Itadori and give him one of the biggest hugs ever.

So, why was it bothering him so bad that Junpei was simply sitting next to Itadori… laughing at his god awful jokes? They were clearly close… Their knees casually leaned up against each others as they weren’t afraid of touching.

Maybe it was because Junpei laughed really hard at Itadori’s shitty jokes? Everyone loved Itadori, but it wasn’t because of his sense of humor. That was for certain.

Maybe he hated Junpei because he just sprung up out of thin air? Gojo had just shown up with Junpei with basically no forewarning. He knew how much Megumi hated when he did that.

Maybe it was because they had history together? History that didn’t involve Megumi. Maybe he felt some weird claim and ownership over Itadori because he was the first one out of the group of students to meet him. They had known each other the longest… even if it was only by a couple of days.

Or maybe it was because Junpei had that fuck ass haircut. The 2009 emo boy look was so stupid, and it didn’t help that he was wearing a My Chemical Romance t-shirt… It was an exact carbon copy of the one in Megumi’s closet.

“What about you, Megs?” Yuji voice snapped Megumi out of his train of thought. He looked up at the two pairs of eyes that were waiting for his response. Shit. He had been so focused on trying to deduce the status of their relationship that he hadn’t been listening for the past ten minutes.

“Hm? Sorry, I wasn’t listening.” He responded casual enough. It wasn’t unlike him to mentally check out of conversations… especially whenever Itadori brought up that godforsaken human earthworm movie.

“I was just trying to see if you wanted to go see a movie with Junpei and I?” Itadori asked without even skipping a beat.

Junpei and I?

Junpei and I!?

They were like some fucking package deal or something. No, he’d rather drop dead than go hangout with them. He couldn’t stand to see them together for any longer.

“I don’t have anything else better to do.” Megumi sighed in agreement. He couldn’t stand to see them together, but he also couldn’t stand the thought of them going on a date alone! Sorry Junpei, Megs was definitely going to tag along and be a complete cockblock for him.

“Really? Hell yeah!” Itadori grinned as he quickly sat up from the couch, exuding excited puppy energy. Megumi never wanted to go to the movies with him, so this was a treat. His two best friends going with him to see a movie! What could be better?

“Kugisaki!! Come with us!” Itadori shouted towards the short brunette, who was currently sitting at the table with Hana, painting her nails.

“I’d rather kill myself. Thanks!” Kugisaki called back to him, causing for him to pout in response. That’s fine. It was good enough that Megumi and Junpei were tagging along.

Yuji knew how much they had in common with each orher. He at least hoped they’d finally talk on the way to the movie theatre.

Megumi leaned his head back against the couch, and he started to dial Ijichi’s number for a ride. Despite being legal adults, none of them had their license yet. Why get a license when Gojo’s money and staff supported all of them?

It was a little while later when Ijichi pulled the car up. Megumi’s stomach flipped as he thought about the seating arrangement for the car. It was something he hadn’t considered yet.

The three of them could pile into the backseat, except that would be three tall men piled into the backseat. That would be far too uncomfortable. Itadori was the tallest. He could sit up front, but… that would leave Megumi and Junpei in the back seat.. no thanks.

They could have Junpei sit up front. Then, Megumi could sit in the back with Itadori and…

Oh look, Itadori was already opening the backdoor for Junpei and ushering him in before sliding in beside him… how nice.

Megumi was left brooding in the front seat, internally cursing himself for coming along. Being a cockblock required getting and keeping Itadori’s attention, but he had no fucking idea how to do that.

Their relationship had always been Itadori reaching out to Megumi, and the brunette acting indifferent towards him. Megumi envied him for being able to reach out to others so confidently.

“Gojo said he’d be home later tonight, Fushiguro.” Ijichi informed meekly, sensing the other’s frustration. He was just trying to make small talk, but Megumi really wasn’t in the mood today. He actually was never in the mood, but today was worse.

“I already told you to call me Megumi. You’ve known me since I was a kid.” He rolled his eyes at Ijichi, never understanding why the man insisted on using his last name.

“Right… right.” Ijichi fumbled over his words as he continued to drive. Megumi was grateful yet also hated the silence between them. Now, he could hear Yuji yapping to Junpei about the latest horror movie release.

They hadn’t stopped fucking talking since Junpei showed up. It was unnerving. Unnatural. No one had that much to say, did they?

“God, I wish you would’ve been there, Junpei. Megs hated that movie. You would’ve enjoyed it though.” Itadori said with a small laugh.

It was like a knife to Megumi’s gut. All this time they spent together… had Yuji been comparing him to Junpei? Had he secretly wished the Junpei was there instead of Megumi?

Aaaannd his teeth were grinding together again. He propped his head up with his hand, glaring out the car window. He wasn’t a cockblock at all. Fuck, he was a third wheel.

He debated on faking some sort of illness to stay behind in the car, but he knew Ijichi would’ve taken any opportunity to take him to see Shoko. Shoko would’ve found out quickly that nothing was wrong with him, and she would’ve forced him to explain why he faked being sick.

He trailed behind the two as they walked into the movie theatre. They were constantly bumping their arms together as they walked in perfect sync.

Junpei was a little smaller than Megumi, so he came up just to Itadori’s shoulder. Did Itadori prefer shorter men? He liked tall girls… Did that translate to men as well?

He knew Itadori didn’t care about gender. He had revealed such over a game of truth or dare. Kugisaki had asked if Itadori would ever date a guy. Megumi’s ears subtly perked up with the pink-haired male said he really didn’t care what gender someone was. He only looked for personality. With a bit more digging, Kugisaki had taken the honor of labeling Itadori as pansexual, and the young man agreed with such.

Megumi was glad that no one had pressed about his sexuality. It’s not that he was ashamed of being gay. Hell, shame wasn’t a thing when you had Gojo as a parent. He just didn’t want there to be that weird awkward tension that always happens between two friends when they find out each of them like the same sex.

It happened in middle school once. He was finally coming to terms with his sexual identity with the help of Geto. He came out of the closet to his closest (and only) friend in middle school, and there was a pregnant pause when his friend replied, “Wait really? I also like guys.”

He honestly preferred coming out to straight men. Sure, they’d make the common mistake of saying, “Well, as long as you don’t hit on me. We’re cool, dude.” but at least there was no complicated feelings when Megumi would always reply with them not being his type.

Lost in thought, he had completely been acting on autopilot this entire time. He didn’t even realize that they were already in the movie theatre until he sat next to Itadori. Junpei sat on the other side.

Itadori held a large bowl of popcorn on his lap. It was more than enough for the three of them to share, especially because Megumi despised popcorn. There was too many times when Gojo would try to serve popcorn as a meal to him as a young kid.

Granted, Gojo was a teen dad who ran off of sugar and desserts, so he really didn’t know any better either. Geto would always come by and save the day with his cooking.

A small tap on his thigh had Megumi tensing. He slightly flinched before snapping his gaze at Itadori.

“Sorry- I didn’t mean to scare you.” He whispered with a soft laugh. Even though it was dark, Megumi could still see how bright his smile was. It made his heart skip a beat. Christ, he was whipped. “Here. I know you don’t like popcorn.”

Itadori gently nudged Megumi’s thigh once again with a bag of American salty chips. It was one of his favorite kinds. Did Itadori by chance know that was his favorite..? If he did, was that something that friends did for each other?

It’s better not to read too deeply into it. He slowly took the chips from his friend’s hand. “Thanks.” He muttered as he just stared at the chip bag. Something about the small token kindness made his heart swell. Itadori didn’t get Junpei his own special snack.

“Don’t mention it.” His friend replied, immediately shoving a handful of popcorn into his mouth. Megumi took a deep breath, and he tried to relax in his seat. Finally, rational thought was beginning to come back to him.

Junpei was only visiting for today and tomorrow. If there was some weird tension between him and Itadori, it’s probably just lingering feelings of their past. Megumi really had no right to be jealous. It’s not like he had ever expressed his feelings to him. He had no claim on Itadori.

Junpei would be leaving soon and flying back off to wherever the hell he lived now. This would be a funny memory in the future.

All was well… until Megumi caught a glimpse of the two men whispering to each other and laughing. Their hands kept bumping together in the popcorn bucket. Itadori was leaned against Junpei so they could hear each other better.

Fuck this. This was torture to witness. Junpei could get fucked for all Megumi cared. Who needs to visit their childhood best friend for a full two days, and who cared if Megumi had no claim over Itadori!? He was still his best friend. That had to count for something.

The movie Itadori had chosen, Human Tarantula, was nothing like Human Earthworm. It took a horror twist upon the movie, and there was little to no romance.

If Megumi wanted his attention, he was going to have to fight for it.

Even though the jump scares were pretty predictable, the next one that happened, Megumi sharply inhaled, and his hand latched onto Itadori’s thigh, feigning terror from the movie.

The pink-haired male straightened, and he looked away from Junpei for once as he looked over at Megumi. He never usually got scared during these films. Did… did Megumi have a secret fear of spiders?

Itadori leaned into Megumi, his mouth next to his friend’s ear as he softly whispered a, “You alright?” to him.

The brunette was thankful it was too dark in the movie theatre for Itadori to see how much that affected him. His cheeks flushed a soft red, and he carefully removed his hand from his friend’s thigh. “I’m fine..” He responded, not risking a glance in Itadori’s direction.

Itadori softly laughed. It was totally like Megumi to act like he wasn’t scared. The pink-haired male just didn’t expect him to be so afraid of spiders. It was cute though. He made a mental note of it. He would be the designated person to take care of spiders if they ever crawled their way into the house.

It wasn’t five minutes later until Itadori and Junpei were all huddled up together once again. They weren’t even talking. They were just leaned against each other, enjoying the movie together… like a couple.

It made Megumi’s stomach turn. He had to act scared to get Itadori’s attention even for just a minute. Meanwhile the emo with the fucked ass haircut can manage to keep his attention the entire day.

Junpei was getting to experience Itadori whispering into his ear constantly throughout the entire movie — something that Megumi only got to experience once, and it was something he craved again.

He was about to just excuse himself to the bathroom to go hide in self-deprecation. He was tired of third wheeling, and he was certainly fucking tired of hearing Junpei giggle at Itadori’s comments.

A scene played on the giant movie screen of a whole nest of baby spiders crawling around. It was enough to make anyone’s skin crawl with disgust. The sound alone made Megumi’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. He wasn’t actually afraid of spiders, but he also didn’t fuck with them either.

A hand rested on his knee, and Megumi tensed. Itadori casually had his palm on the brunette’s knee. He focused on his breathing — trying to not appear as if he was about to die over such a simple touch.

Itadori was clearly just trying to soothe him. It’s not like this is a romantic gesture. No, this is just what friends did for each other, right..?

His thumb gently stroked the outer part of his knee, and Megumi gripped onto the arm rest of the chair like he was fighting for his life. His heart was racing in his chest. Butterflies swarmed his stomach. Itadori and him were close, but they had never even shared a hug before. They weren’t the type of friends to casually share touches… like him and Junpei were.

Of course, on the outside, Megumi looked terrified. Itadori genuinely pitied his friend. He would’ve chosen a different movie if he knew about Megumi’s aversion to spiders.

His hand continued to caress his friend’s knee, thinking this would be a soothing motion to ease his terror, but Megumi was nearly shaking.

Itadori leaned over against him once more. “We can go if you’re not having a good time.” His breath brushed against the shell of his ear, causing Megumi to shudder.

“I’m fine.” He managed to get out in a low, steady tone.

Itadori gave his knee one good squeeze before continuing to rub circles around his knee. Megumi swallowed harshly as he tried to keep his breath slow and steady.

The rest of the movie went by painfully fast. Megumi couldn’t focus with Itadori’s hand on his knee, and he couldn’t get enough of the feeling. His hand itched to just reach down and hold it, but he was too nervous. He kept trying to remind himself that Itadori was likely only doing this so he could be a good friend.

The loss of contact had Mugumi’s heart sinking down into his stomach. Itadori was right back to being all up Junpei’s ass. Were they in some weird ass throuple situation? Is that what people thought about them as they saw them in passing? Two emos sharing a golden retriever?

Returning home, Gojo was sitting at the dining room table, playing on his Nintendo Switch before he looked up at the three with starry eyes. Megumi had forgotten Ijichi mentioned Gojo would be home this afternoon.

During the school semesters, Megumi, Itadori, and Nobara would all go live on the college campus they all went to. However, it was summer time, so they all stayed at Megumi’s since Nobara and Itadori really didn’t have any family.

Megumi’s house was expansive thanks to Gojo’s handsome check from being the clan head. Geto’s income also helped a bit, but he mainly ran a nonprofit for disadvantaged children.

Hell, their home was like a nonprofit for disadvantaged children. It felt like the collected orphans like pokemon cards. First Megumi when he was seven, now several college students found refuge in Gojo’s house.

Hell, Junpei was probably an orphan too. They were really trying to catch ‘em all.

“Gumiii~!” Gojo called out to his child by that god awful nickname that Megumi hated. He was eternally grateful that Itadori had landed on calling him ‘Megs’ instead. “How was the movie?” He asked.

Junpei and Itadori had already settled right back on the couch right next to each other, going back and forth about the voice actors for the movie they just watched.

“Outside.” Megumi grumbled as he grabbed his adoptive dad by the collar of his shirt and comedically dragged him backwards until they were in the backyard.

“Why the fuck did you bring him here, and when the fuck is he leaving exactly?” Megumi asked as soon as the door shut behind them.

“Grouchy.” Gojo laughed, scratching the back of his neck once his son released him. “I guess the movie wasn’t that good, was it?” He asked, clearly just trying to egg the brunette on.

“Gojo.” Megumi’s tone was low and threatening. His fists were clenching and unclenching at his sides. Small crescent shapes were likely indented into his skin from how tight his grip was.

“Okay, okay- No need for the government name, Gumi.” Gojo responded with his hands up in a dramatic surrendering expression. “Itadori had mentioned having only one close childhood best friend one time, and I decided that a reunion was very much needed.”

Megumi’s jaw tightened. He had really filled out his frame since he was a teenager. He still wasn’t as tall as Gojo, lanky bastard, but he wasn’t as defenseless as he use to be. And he honestly debated fighting his adoptive dad.

“So, anyone can just mention to you about a previous friend, and you’ll go dig them up and fly them out?” He asked in a careful tone. His voice was low and filled with misplaced anger.

Gojo pretended to contemplate Megumi’s question before finally giving a response. “If they give me pretty puppy dog eyes, yes.”

“He begged..?” Megumi’s anger was swiftly forgotten, replaced with shell-shock. Itadori had been so desperate to reconnect with Junpei that he begged Gojo to find him and fly him out..? His stomach coiled from the news, and his face paled.

Gojo chose his next words very carefully. “He said he wondered how Junpei had been getting along, and he missed their long talks about movies.”

It was enough to send Megumi straight to his room, locking the door behind him. He knew he had just been mindlessly jealous thus far today, but this level of self pity was unprecedented.

His long-term crush wasn’t fulfilled enough in his friendship with him. He had to go search out his old childhood best friend likely to rekindle old nostalgic feelings. They got along great. There hadn’t been a moment of silence in the house since Junpei had arrived.

Fuck. The memory of Gojo showing up with Junpei flooded Megumi’s mind. Gojo’s stupid ass had shoved Junpei into a box to make a grand reveal. Megumi was too surprised to notice how Itadori’s eyes gleamed and how he ran straight up to Junpei to envelop his body into a tight hug.

Even now, Gojo was sitting downstairs with Junpei and Itadori as they played a board game. It was sickening to think about.

Maybe… maybe he should just move on from Itadori. There was clearly nothing between them on Itadori’s side. He should take on a few more classes during the fall semester and bury himself in his studies to forget about his crush.

A soft knock at his door had him wiping his face, making sure no residue tears were left behind. “What?” He called out in an unamused tone.

“Don’t what me.” Geto’s calm voice filled the room, and Megumi immediately moved to unlock the door for his other adoptive dad.

Megumi knew better than to pick a fight with Geto as he was the lawmaker in the house, and Gojo would back him all the way to the moon over anything.

“Sorry…” He muttered as he sat back down on his bed, avoiding eye contact with the other male.

“Why are you up here moping? Nanako and Mimiko are even downstairs socializing, and you know how hard it is to get those girls to do anything besides stare at their phones and laugh at each other.” Geto said as he took a seat down on the bed next to Megumi.

Megumi shrugged his shoulders. There was no way he was about to vent out his frustrations right now. He already felt too vulnerable and raw. He didn’t need anyone else knowing what was going on.

Too bad for him, Geto was perceptive as hell. He was always the first to notice when Megumi would go on downward spirals like this… probably because he went through the same thing.

Geto’s episodes were far and few between nowadays, but he still had his days. Gojo had luckily gotten better at picking up on Geto’s warning signs, and he’d always do whatever was necessary to bring his husband back to life.

“You know… I remember I use to hate this girl back in college. She was brash, strong, and had long dark hair that rivaled my own.” Geto said as he looked at his son. He knew without even having to ask. Megumi was clearly stricken with jealousy and grief.

“So?” The brunette asked, giving Geto a raised eyebrow.

“So, Satoru was too touchy with her. He always use to tease her until she went red in the face, and they way he said her name had me plotting her demise. Uttaahimmee~” Geto mocked Gojo’s teasing tone of voice, earning a faint smile out of Megumi.

“We weren’t dating at the time, and I’d say we barely even had a situationship going. I felt like I had no right to be so jealous. I usually tried to play along, until I found myself retracting from what Satoru and I had been building.” He went on, recounting their teenage years fondly.

“I almost let him go, but I decided to give a last ditch effort. Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had retracted completely instead of just telling him how I felt? He admitted that he was only acting that way so I’d feel jealous. He thought it’d make me want him more. What an idiot.” He laughed, and Megumi joined in with his own soft laughs.

“Thanks. I know what you’re trying to do..” Megumi said with a soft smile planted on his face. “But I don’t think Itadori is doing this to get a rise out of me.”

“Certainly not. That boy doesn’t have a malicious bone in his body. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t perhaps like seeing that jealous side of you.” Geto said, raising his eyebrows with suggestion that had Megumi shoving him out of his room with embarrassment. His dads were too cool joking about that stuff with him, even if he was grown now.

After a few moments of reflection, he set forth a plan in his mind before collecting himself mentally. He was going to allow himself to feel jealous without any judgment.

He walked downstairs, and he lingered around the back of the couch as he watched his sisters, Itadori, Junpei, and Gojo all playing some sort of board game.

Itadori and Junpei were nearly on fucking top of each other. It was disgusting. He let out a disgruntled noise of dissatisfaction as he climbed over the couch to sit on Itadori’s other side.

“Hey Megs. I was going to go check on you after this round.” He said as he freed himself away from Junpei.

“It’s fine.” He said as he placed a firm hand over Itadori’s knee. Butterflies once again swarmed his stomach. He really couldn’t touch the other without getting all flustered. He tried to control his breathing, and he forced his voice to be steady. “What are you playing?” He asked.

Itadori noticed the sudden hand on his knee, but he didn’t dare to comment on it. “We’re playing Life.”

“Speaking of which, it’s your turn, Yuji.” Junpei spoke up, interrupting their small interaction.

Megumi glared at Junpei unapologetically until every person in that room felt uncomfortable.

“Actually, I completely forgot. I have a livestream to go watch!” Mimiko said as she hurried out of the living room.

“Me too-“ Nanako added as she chased after her twin sister up the stairs.

“I think I hear Suguru calling for me.” Gojo said with a knowing grin as he leisurely left the living room as well.

“Well…” Junpei muttered lowly as he looked around. “Maybe we can watch another movie, Yuji..?”

Megumi didn’t miss how Junpei clearly didn’t intend on inviting him to their plans. His teeth ground together, but he stayed silent, waiting to see what Itadori’s response would be.

“I… actually need to shower. It’s getting late, and Todo expects me to be in the gym every morning at 5 o’clock sharp.” Itadori said as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Good boy. Megumi thought to himself.

“I’ll bring you down some blankets and pillows. Hana’s currently taking up the guest room, but you and I can camp-“ A disapproving growl from Megumi had Itadori quickly rethinking what he was saying. He felt the brunette’s hand tighten around his knee. “You and I can… catch up tomorrow.” He quickly adjusted his words.

“Yeah, sure.. That’s fine.” Junpei nodded as he got comfortable on the couch. Yuji stood up, and Megumi followed along right behind him. It took work to keep the smug expression off his face. He finally fucking won. He was officially a cockblock.

His smug victory was cut short when he was swiftly jerked into the bathroom, and his back was pressed against a wall. The door shut, and the lock clicked into place. Itadori’s hands trapped him in, and he looked up at his tall friend with wide eyes.

“Mind telling me what’s going on with you?” Itadori spoke in a voice that was not at all intimidating, but it was more concerning than anything.

“I don’t know what you’re-“ A hand placed firmly under his jaw had Megumi’s heart nearly leaping out of his chest. He secretly hoped Itadori couldn’t hear it.

This was straight out of his fantasies. His friend keeping him still against a wall, forcing his gaze up into his big brown eyes. He had the face of an angel, but his actions spoke to a hidden darkness underneath.

“Don’t lie to me, Megs.” Itadori spoke with a frown. It looked like disappointment on his face, making Megumi feel slightly remorseful for the bold display of jealousy. Though, he wouldn’t have had to do that if Yuji and Junpei weren’t so annoyingly close.

“You’ve been up Junpei’s ass since he got here. It’s like you forgot you have other friends around.” Megumi finally fessed up as he tried to jerk his jaw away from Itadori’s grasp. He only tightened more around his jaw.

“That’s what your mood has been about?” Itadori asked with a laugh. A laugh. Megumi could feel his anger boiling over as if he wanted to explode right then, feeling so invalidated by the guy he had longed for-

His train of thought completely stopped as he felt a pair of lips upon his own. No way was this happening right now. He literally had to look down and check. Yep, Itadori was kissing him right now.

After the smallest moment of hesitancy, Megumi instantly melted into the kiss, looping his arms around Yuji’s neck and swallowing down each and every small noise he made.

The kiss was short, but it was lust-filled on both sides. Itadori was gently panting with a dumb grin on his face as he eyed his best friend. Megumi face had a subtle blush to it, and he was avoiding his gaze.

“Does that make you feel better? I didn’t take you for such a brat, Fushiguro.” Yuji gently teased, squeezing onto Megumi harder as he tried to get out of his grasp.

“What did you just call me?” Megumi asked as he was trying to fight Yuji’s hulking figure. The pink-haired male had supernatural strength that rendered Megumi completely useless against him.

“I’ll let you mark me up if you stop fighting me and forget that I called you a brat.” Yuji bribed with a laugh, and Megumi went completely still in his arms.

“Wherever I want.” He negotiated with a narrow stare.

“Wherever you want and however many it takes for you not to be such a jealous recluse.” Yuji offered.

“Deal.”

*** *** ***

Todo was a loss for words when Yuji walked into the gym the next morning littered in bruises along his neck and collarbones.

Also, no one dared to mention to Megumi that Junpei was actually straight… There was never a battle of the emo boys in Yuji’s heart after all.

[demonic0angel]

Dan being forced to go to anger management therapy hosted by Harley Quinn.

(I refuse to believe that Dan would be forced into anything, so this is a Dan in Arkham AU lmao)

Wraith huffed angrily. “And that’s why he deserves pain and suffering.”

Harley stared at him in fascination, tapping a finger on her lips. It had been weeks after their breakout from Arkham, and Wraith was quickly becoming a good friend of the Sirens. It had reached a point where now, he was spilling his secrets over a glass of wine (stolen from a Bruce Wayne-endorsed party), about a boy he used to be and the timeline he came from.

It wasn’t the weirdest thing ever, since this was Gotham after all, but it was still both disturbing and thralling.

Harley could not help but stare as Wraith grumbled to himself, blue eyes flashing crimson and sharp fangs being bared in a snarl. Then she asked, “Did your sister ever say anything about this?”

Wraith huffed and swirled his wine lightly. “She said it’s a form of self-hatred. Because I blame myself for our family’s deaths, I blame Danny too. But I don’t care. We are the same person but we are not the same. He is still human, while I have transcended past mankind to be something greater.” His fingers clenched on the stem of the wine glass. “It’s not fair how he gets to be happy, but I can’t.”

A god complex, a superiority complex, and an inferiority complex, all born from the loss of family and self-identity. His psyche was absolutely damaged by his previous experiences, and trauma had made him into something very, very twisted. It was probably true that he was not human anymore, but it was so interesting how he had abandoned his humanity so thoroughly and thrown it aside.

“You can’t?” Harley asked. “Or you won’t?”

Wraith’s expression twisted. “I can’t.”

That didn���t seem right.

He was happy when eating red meat and drinking expensive wine. He was rather happy when they went shopping and included him in their jokes and games. He was plenty happy when he talked about his sisters. He was very happy when interacting with Nightwing, who seemed to effortlessly peel away his layers to reveal a playful, gentle personality that did not seem to be a facade.

“You seem happy around Nightwing,” Harley said. “And us. What do you think of that?”

Wraith glared at her lightly, but he didn’t seem angry, not like how he was when he talked about his little brother, his other self. The venom in his voice and eyes when he talked about his younger self would’ve been better deserved if he was talking about the Anti-Christ, but Harley didn’t voice this.

“Nightwing has the purest soul in this world. It’s strong and beautiful because of how kind it is. It should be a crime to be cruel to it, not when he’s so… good.” His expression gentled and he swirled his wine again before taking a sip. “And you and the others are… nice to me. I don’t want to spoil your fun.”

Harley beamed. “Aww, we like you too, Wraith-y poo!”

Wraith rolled his eyes and took another sip. Harley poured him some more without him asking, and they drank their wine in silence.

Eventually, Harley said, “It’s not healthy to hate yourself so much, y’know? Maybe you don’t want advice, but I think your sister would agree with me. You should let go of the past and live in the present. That timeline doesn’t exist anymore, does it?”

Wraith scowled. “It may not exist anymore, but I came from that timeline. I am who I am because of my family’s deaths and because of Danny.” The hatred in his voice was deep and potent, making Harley shiver. “It can never let me go and I can never let it go either. The past shaped me in ways that cannot be undone.”

Harley took a sip of wine to think. Then she said, “Well. No matter what, me and the girls are here for you. And I think Nightwing really likes you too! Really!”

Wraith hummed, eyes half lidded before he turned and looked at her with a quirk to his lips like a small, genuine smile. “Yes, I know. Thank you, Harley.”

She grinned. “No problem!”

They continued drinking together in companionable silence.

[sha-biest]

SHA's Golden Future DTIYS [Art & Writing]

Close ups of Mikey

About 10 days ago I had the idea to host a DTIYS and even though I told myself it wouldn't happen anytime soon.. the idea struck and it wouldn't let me go. SO, here it is! One thing before everything else:

1st place: One handmade custom plushie made by me

More information about this DTIYS down below

I am aware that this is a rather challenging DTIYS but it was done so intentionally by me. (Trust me, I tortured myself too 🙃) HOWEVER. you are allowed to chose to draw only one segment of the whole piece and not every single one! You will however get more points for including all 3 parts of it. I will judge the pieces based on: • How many segments of the whole piece were drawn • Creativity (in what way was it changed from the original to emphasize your own style for example) • Colors (did you chose to use colors or is it black and white?) • Hands. I do accept written entries for this as well! I love reading and I don't want to exclude writers for this one should they decide they want to tackle this! You are allowed to use my art up top of the DTIYS to promote your writing!

If you want to participate be sure to @sha-biest and use the tag #GoldenFutureDTIYS Additionaly, let me know what YOU would like to get as a plushie! (don't worry, you don't have to stick to that decision should it change over the course of the DTIYS)

Deadline: 10th March 2025

More Info: • #GoldenFutureAU art tag • Written Story by Co-Creator @rosesofenvy (More about Mikey's mindscape and him unlocking his full mystic powers can be read in "Keep You Safe" especially within Chapter 4 and Chapter 8) • The Sun God's appearance here and here References:

Mikey's mindscape in Golden Future:

In the beginning he thought it was black water but it's actually black sand

He can dive into the sand and uncover "treasures" (parts of his mystic energy)

Diving down means no vision, sound or air gets through to him

He can uncover the mystic powers by pulling them up with his chains

Uncovering a "treasure" will turn that part of the desert golden

Disclaimer: • The plushie that can be won cannot be used to be reproduced and/or sold • The size of the plushie depends on the character chosen by the winner and by the package size I can send • I am by no means a professional plush maker so I do have the right to decline a character should I not be able to turn it into a plushie • Changes might need to be made to the chosen character for the plushie for more complicated details (I will provide sketches of possible versions) • Minors are permitted to participate, but only with the express permission of a guardian and limited correspondence if they win • You can chose to get a full illustration piece instead of a plushie should you win! (if you are too uncomfortable sharing your adress for example)

Plushie examples:

Questions can be send in via my ask box! I will try to compile them in here or give them a dtiyas specific tag! I'm curious what you guys come up with and most of all.. have fun! :D

PS: I will consider doing two first places (one for writing and one for art) depending on how many entries there are

[illbegottenfaith]

can I take your order?

you get off on the wrong foot with the new barista at your hometown's coffee shop, but even your off-putting behaviour isn't enough to deter him (theo nott x reader)

a/n - a little birthday gift from me to myself! this was inspired by an episode of fresh off the boat season 4. I dont usually like coffee shop au's but they do make for a fun silly little drabble :)

warnings/tropes - coffee shop au, one-sided reluctant acquaintances to lovers(?), fluff, petty!reader

word count - 2.8k

In hindsight, your first clue should have been the unfamiliar, deep, masculine voice coming from the figure crouched behind the counter. You walked into the coffee shop, the familiar bell jangling warmly.

"Just a minute!"

Strange, you had thought. Elaise sounds rather different. And like the utter idiot you were, you settled on one of most nonsensical conclusions anyone could have drawn - she must have a sore throat. Poor Elaise.

The figure straightened, heaving a box of individually wrapped candy canes onto the counter, sweeping his hair out of his eyes.

“Hello. Can I take your order?”

You gaped at the new, unfamiliar barista. His hair fell appealingly across his forehead in soft, silky curls. His cheeks were rosy with the warmth of the cosy shop, and you distantly took note of how becoming the flush looked on him. That, and how adorably put-together he looked on what was clearly his first day on the job, with his neatly rolled-up sleeves and pristine apron.

You, on the other hand, were bundled up in an absurd amount of woollens and jackets, your pinched face desperately lacking any colour or sign of life.

In your defense, you typically looked much more normal. It was just that you could not, for the life of you, find your coat that morning, which may or may not have to do with the fact that you had only haphazardly unpacked half your trunk (you had precious few days away from Hogwarts - you weren't going to spend half of one unpacking and another half packing again.).

Since you could not find your coat, you had made a guess (a rather poor one, you were quickly realising) at how many layers you needed to pile on to avoid catching your death in the brisk chill outside. By the time you stepped outside, you were sweating under the sweltering layers. But the only thing more stupid than bundling yourself in an obscene number of layers was wasting time peeling those layers off, and so you waddled down your driveway with what was left of your dignity.

Besides, on a cold day like this, it wasn't like you were going to run into anyone. Only Elaise down at the coffee shop, someone you could laugh about this with.

Someone you could not laugh about this with, you decided, was the equally stunned stranger of a barista in front of you. It was warm, very warm, inside the coffee shop. With your lucky, you'd somehow manage to sweat through all of your layers. Could he tell you were wearing too many? Was it obvious? Oh, God, between your layers and the overthinking you wer going to overheat. But you couldn't remove any of them, because then it would be obvious, because then he would know -

That was when you made the brilliant observation that he was staring at you just as much as you were staring at him. There was the faintest sheen of sweat along the bridge of his unfairly well-constructed nose. Your gaze slipped down to the box of candy canes he had just pulled out and, with considerable difficulty, willed yourself to tear your eyes away from him. Honestly, what he was doing in a coffee shop in the middle of nowhere with forearms like those?

This was getting ridiculous, you fumed. He was just as out of breath as you, even if it was for entirely different reasons. Why did he get to look so roguishly dishevelled, while you...actually, you didn't want to think about how you looked. His lips were parted and his brow was lightly furrowed. Maybe, if you were clever about this, you could convince him that this was all just a fevered hallucination the both of you shared.

Too late.

He was moving his mouth, and from the way his eyes were fixed on your outermost ugly Christmas sweater (that you had worn ironically. Ironically. You were not destitute in the clothing department.), you were sure he had nothing constructive to say.

So you did what any rational human being would do - turn around and leave.

"And then you just...left? Without saying anything?"

You sealed the last of the cardboard boxes. "He was very off-putting."

Whatever. Ivy hadn't been there. It's not like she would know that you had been the off-putting one.

The two of you were sorting through the boxes cluttering your dreary attic. It had taken up the better part of your morning, but at least you were finally done. Ivy tucked away the last box, wiping her hands down her pants.

"You know what I could really go for right now? A vanilla latte."

You put down the label maker, narrowing your eyes at your friend. "Ivy."

"With a light dusting of cinnamon on top."

"We can't go there," you protested. "We have to stay away from the place until Elaise comes back. If she comes back. You know, out of solidarity?"

What you meant was, you couldn't show your face there again after yesterday. Really, what were you thinking, walking out without so much as a word? He probably thought you weren't right in the head. Although, you thought bitterly, maybe he wasn't far off.

"Oh, relax. She's talked about going out of town to visit her family for ages now. Don't her grandparents live in Minnesota? Besides," Ivy picked up your coats, tossing you yours, "I have to see the guy my best friend is so down bad for."

Your tongue suddenly felt too thick for your mouth. "I'm not down bad for him. Why would you think I'm down bad for him?"

"Y/N, you spent the last half hour talking about his hands."

You scoffed. "Uh, yeah, about how stupid they look, with all those stupid veins and that stupid bone structure."

The whole way there, you came up with more and more excuses to avoid the coffee shop, each one more desperate and ridiculous than the last. Unfortunately, none of them seemed to work.

The two of you walked in, and you were briefly soothed by the comforting aroma of roasted coffee beans. Ivy gave the barista a warm smile. "Hello." Traitor.

"Hi. What can I get you?"

He didn't look as fresh-faced as yesterday, but god was he still devastatingly attractive. You tried to focus on what Ivy was saying.

"I'll have a vanilla latte with cinammon on top."

"And you?"

You opened your mouth. You wanted to tell him your order; really, you did. But for some strange, inexplicable reason, your mind went blank. What did you want? The silence stretched awkwardly. You felt your face heat up. Your throat felt dry. Eventually, Ivy - wonderful, fantastic, heaven-sent Ivy - cleared her throat delicately.

"She'll have a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a hazelnut drizzle. Say, Elaise used to work here, didn't she?"

The barista glanced up at Ivy. "Hm? Oh, yes. She's just out of town for the holidays."

"Minnesota?"

"I think so."

Ivy gave you a knowing look. You scowled at her and looked away, only to see the barista watching you with an odd expression, as if a smile were tugging at his lips. You hurriedly straightened your face, fixing your gaze on the bottles of syrup behind him as he went back to taking the order.

"Could I get your names?"

"Ivy and..." She prodded you in the ribs. You stayed resolutely silent, your eyes only slightly watering from the jab. "...and Y/N," she finished.

Ivy paid, and the two of you found a table in the middle of the shop to wait at. You couldn't stop kicking yourself over the interaction. That was twice you'd made a fool of yourself in front of him now. Once your drinks were ready, Ivy fetched them. When she handed you yours, you turned the cup around in your hand. It felt like any other drink. You turned it a little more and your heart skipped a beat. There was your name scrawled in black ink, and at the end was a slightly untidy, yet unmistakable, heart.

"Aww," Ivy crooned, peeking over, "he likes you."

"Shut up," you mumbled, trying to hide your burning face. Still, when she wasn't looking, you ran a thumb over his writing, memorising every careless flick of his marker.

There had to be something wrong with him. No one was that perfect.

"What am I looking at?" Matteo asked drily, as you stood outside the coffee shop the next day. A couple of your friends were spending Christmas in the area, and you had managed to drag a couple of them down here. The person you really wanted there was Matteo, someone to validate your (diminishing) distaste for the guy. Sometimes you felt like he was the only one who understood your mistrustful nature. You vaguely stabbed at the direction of the barista, who was busily whipping up a drink, through the cafe's window with your mittened hands.

"There. That guy."

"What about him?"

"How much money are you willing to bet on him being a serial killer?"

That was when Matteo started laughing, and it was a long while before anyone could get him to stop.

"I don’t think Matteo was the right person to ask," Ivy said, patting your arm sympathetically once all of you had bundled inside the shop.

"Obviously not," you said bitterly. "He’d gamble his trust fund away for shits and giggles."

Your gaze wandered over to the counter where the others were still ordering. The barista's pencil wasn't moving on his writing pad, and Matteo actually seemed interested in whatever he was saying. Typical. Don't! you wanted to yell. He's the enemy!

"Have a nice little chitchat?" you asked witheringly once the guys returned with their drinks.

"Hey, I was only trying to scope out if he was a - what did you say? Right, a serial killer."

You rolled your eyes. It was starting to get annoying, how everyone couldn't help but love the guy.

"I miss Elaise," you grumbled, taking a sip of your drink. As you set your drink back down, you glanced back at the counter to see the barista once again watching you. You stiffened. What was he looking at? Did you have something on your face? You did have something on your face! You hurriedly wiped off the whipped cream above your upper lip and on the tip of your nose with the back of your hand. But he still wasn't looking away. His eyes dipped down to your drink. Mystified, you followed his gaze, looking more closely at your cup.

There was a cartoonish Christmas tree etched on the side with a speech bubble coming out of its mouth.

Why did the Christmas tree go to the dentist?

You rotated the cup.

It needed a root canal.

A talking Christmas tree. A talking Christmas tree going to the dentist. How ridiculous, you thought. You laughed suddenly, startling your friends. You didn't know why you were nearly It was so stupid that it circled back to being funny. Noticing your friends curiously watching you, you hurriedly rotated the cup, shielding the doodle with your palm. You waved away their questioning glances, and slowly the conversation resumed.

You glanced back at the barista, eyes bright with mirth, watching him take someone else's order. Sure, it was a stupid joke, but it was your kind of stupid joke.

Ever since that first day when you walked out without saying a word, Theo had watched you return to the coffee shop day after day, bringing more and more backup. Today, he had to duck behind the milk steaming station when he spotted your table as he emerged from the back. Impressively, you had managed to squeeze an entire party of seven around a table for two, complete with everyone’s puffy winter coats. As you had discovered a few days ago, that table was the perfect vantage point to spy on the goings-on at the counter.

Today, he approached your table with his familiar writing pad and pencil. "I thought it might be easier if I came to all of you instead of the other way around."

One by one, your friends rattled off their orders.

"Vanilla latte, cinammon on top. Y/N?"

It was your turn. You met his eyes. His striking, crisp blue eyes. Fuck. You felt your thoughts start slipping from your mind again.

"I know," he started saying, "hot chocolate with whipped cream and a caramel drizzle on top."

"Hazelnut."

"Hm?"

Everyone was staring at you. That had just come out of your mouth, hadn't it? Your throat felt scratchy. You didn't think you could string two words together, but somehow, you managed.

"It's not a caramel drizzle," you forced out clumsily, hyperaware of your scarlet face. "It's hazelnut."

Then, oh so subtly, in a way you would have missed it if you hadn't been watching his face so closely, his mouth curved into an undeniable smirk.

You looked around your circle of friends to see if anyone had noticed, but they had been too busy watching you. You looked back at him. The smirk was gone, but the polite graciousness in his eyes as he murmured an apology and walked away didn't fool you.

Ivy patted you on the back, but you shrugged her away. You were too busy fuming. He tricked you. He tricked you. Who did he think he was, manipulating his way into getting you to say two words to him? Before anyone realised what you were doing, including yourself, you were standing up and walking over to the counter with a more than indignant air.

"I bet you think you were real slick with that, huh?"

"With what?" he asked smoothly, completely unfazed as he continued with the drink he was making. Unfazed enough to make you suspect this was what he had planned all along.

"You know. You knew it was hazelnut."

He gave you what anyone else might have mistaken for an innocent smile, but you knew better. "Did I?"

"Yes, and frankly, it's almost insulting to think I wouldn't have picked up o-"

He set down the cup he had been writing on. It was only then that you realised it was your drink.

"Hot chocolate. Whipped cream. Hazelnut drizzle."

You blinked, having lost your train of thought. You hesitantly picked the cup up and walked back to your table.

Your friends were too engrossed in their conversations to notice you returning. You turned your cup, looking for today's doodle. Except, there was no doodle - only your name messily scrawled without so much as a heart. It was legible, but barely.

You bit your lip, trying to stave off the stinging disappointment rushing in. It hurt to know that you had been right all along, that he didn't really fancy you. As for the hurried scribble, who could blame him? He had a good seven or so drinks to make. He was in a rush, he couldn't be wasting time doodling on every single cup.

You looked up, making eye contact with Ivy sitting opposite you. You shook your head, gesturing to your drink. Only, when she glanced at your cup, her eyes widened dramatically. Frowning, you spun the cup around, and you nearly choked.

561-555-7689

"Um, I'm going to get some air," you mumbled to no one in particular, dazed, as you exited the shop with your drink. You looked at the digits on the cup again, repeating them over and over again in your head till you had them memorised. Should you? No, you didn't want to come off as desperate. Unless...no. No. You weren't that pathetic.

Oh, who were you kidding? You had made a complete arse of yourself in front of him. What reason did he have to actually give you his number?

"Hello?"

You were stunned speechless. It worked. He picked up. And you knew it was him, because you could see him on the phone through the window, wiping a hand on his apron as he raised his eyebrows at you.

"...hi." You shook yourself, turning away. It was easier if you didn't have to acknowledge who you were talking to. "Sorry. You're working now, obviously. I just didn't think you'd give me your real number."

"Why would I give you a fake number?"

You could imagine the corner of his lip quirking up into that slightly asymmetrical smile of his. Everything you did seemed to amuse him. You shrugged, laughing weakly. "I don't know. For some kind of sick joke?"

"I thought you liked my jokes."

You scrunched your nose. He had you there.

You called him again that night, once you were sure his shift would have ended. And the night after that, and the night after that, and every night for the rest of the holidays.

[ollyissleppy]

𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬

summary: christmas without cookies? no, that's not right! christmas is nothing without some baked goods so you and your boyfriend decided to bake some! Also let's judge their baking and decorating skills! a/n: I'm finally home for holiday break, doing a ton of baking in order to prepare so it's so fitting (I love being the baker of the family around holidays/s) cw: maybe fome swearing? idk

series masterlist

sucks at baking, lowkey a god at decorating

"Alright, Rafayel, the cookies are ready!" You call out for your boyfriend, that was temporary banned from the kitchen.

"Finally! You should've let me help you" your boyfriend comes in to the room and stands next to you.

"And risk christmas without cookies? Yeah, no" you move away from the counter to make space for Rafayel. "Now do your job, Mr. Artist"

And he does. Who knew that having an artist as a boyfriend would have it's perks? All of your friends and family can't stop gushing about how pretty the cookies are and how they feel guilty about eating these small pieces of art.

"Here, I made two that look like us."

really fun to bake with (stuff the two of you bake comes out edible), refuses to decorate ('it won't change the taste, so why do that?' type of mf)

"They look… decent enough" Sylus says after pulling cookies out of the oven.

"It's all gonna come together once we decorate them" You look over his shoulder to check how they're turned out.

"We're not doing that." Sylus turns around and now you're face is centimeters away from his.

"What? Why?" You try your best to understand Sylus's position on the matter.

"Doesn't change the taste and it's the only thing that matters" Sylus shrugs.

"But with decorating they'll look pretty" you try your best to reason with your boyfriend as you were really looking forward to decorate them.

"Doesn't convince me." He ruffles your hair before walking away from the kitchen.

You end up sneaking in to the kitchen with the twins and decorate the cookies regardless.

surprisingly good at decorating, as long as he follows the recipe all is good

"Aww, Xav, you made this one look like a polar bear. So adorable" you look over at your boyfriend's most recently done cookie.

"And yours looks like Santa" Xavier smiles at you only for you to smile back at him.

The two of you were decorating the cookies for quite some time, occasionally eating the ones that didn't come out right. You pick up another human-shaped cookie, when you have an idea.

"We should make ones that look like us" you examine the cookie and the icing to make sure you have the right colours to pull it off.

"No." Xavier pics up a cookie that's shaped like christmas tree and starts working on it.

"Why?" You question him, focusing your entire attention on your boyfriend.

"I'd feel bad about eating you"

good at baking (it's that doctor skills or something), doesn't really care for decorating (would do a decent job if asked)

"And they're ready" Zayne says, pulling the last batch out of the oven.

"Wow, I fell like I just watched a magic show or something" you say, sitting on the counter. "Anyway, let's get to decorating" you jump off and prepare the cooled batch for decorating.

"Sure" your boyfriend helps you set everything up.

The two of you work together on different designs on cookies, chatting away on random topics. The cookies come out looking quite good. Yes, some of them came out a little funky, but that doesn't mean they're any less tasty. Let's just say these ones were reserved just for the two of you.

taglist: @leighsartworks216 @faeryminnyx @iloveboysinred @sstar-ggirl @bellagrayson-wayne

you want in? fill out this form!

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

chance of showers

pairing: leon x reader

cws: piss, p in v, pee in v, ddlg

a/n: yeah, it was bound to happen, wasn't it? the double sin of ddlg and piss

wc: 1.5k

These days, Leon bids you adieu in the threshold between your typical affection and your faux-innocence facade that comes with a side of fuck-me eyes. That’s when Daddy takes over. 

When he comes home from work, he can sense the desperation threatening to boil over into teary-eyed, delirious begging so he gives you an offer you can’t refuse: he’ll be your chauffeur to the not-quite-luxurious sex-filled sanctuary of your shared bedroom. That is to say, he’ll carry you across the hall where he can fuck you stupid without all the back pain that a couch rendezvous would give him.

You greet him with a hug and a heart-eyed grin, immediately discarding all previous activities for his attention. You’ve been gorilla-glue stuck to the TV all day due to the once a week chance to watch all the High School Musical movies on cable — which Leon still pays for — one after the other. He can tell by your antsy legs, shifting from one foot to the other. It’s not nerves– daddy makes you relaxed. No, it’s a cute little pee-pee dance.

“Do you need to do something before we go have some fun together?”

“Uh-uh. I wanna have special time with daddy now.”

“Are you sure? If you need to go pee, daddy can wait for you.”

“I don’t need to go.”

Leon doesn’t need a polygraph test to know that’s a fucking lie. 

But, you’re a big girl, or, at least, you’ve insisted that you are whenever Leon challenges that silly little ‘fact’ you’ve tried to manifest into reality. 

The reality is: you need daddy’s help, particularly when you’re in this state. 

Leon should take you by the hand and lead you to the bathroom, he should tell, not ask. But, it’s like letting your toddler touch the hot stove just once – they’ll learn their lesson and they’ll never do it again. 

You’re an adult who has the reasoning skills to know that you should pee. Plus, it’s not like pissing yourself is anything more than an embarrassing moment and a bitch to clean up. 

So, Leon doesn’t press the issue. Instead, he has you how he wants you. All fucked-out, your pussy stuffed so full you can see his dick in your abdomen and your brain completely empty of all thoughts (and your bladder so full he could make you burst if he pressed on your stomach with enough force). 

As he often does, Leon makes you ride him because he thinks it’s cute to watch you struggle, and he inevitably takes over the job of gripping your hips and pulling them back down to meet his. Over and over again until you think you’re going to pass out. 

Your eyes are screwed shut and your mouth is occupied with your constant moaning – until you have an ‘uh-oh’ moment. Leon can see it flash across your face. 

“Daddy,” you manage through a shaky voice. “No more, no more.”

The thing is: No more isn’t your safe word. No more is usually what you say when everything feels so intense that you’re overwhelmed and need Leon’s reassurance. He rubs your back and showers you in praise while he continues to fuck you as the unwritten protocol says he should. 

“It’s okay, baby,” he says. “You’re doing so good for me.”

“No, no,” you protest, shaking your head vehemently. “Have to go pee, daddy.”

“Baby, we’ve been through this before, remember? The first time you squirted, you thought you were gonna pee, but you didn’t. You liked that feeling, right?”

It’s true. You were absolutely convinced you’d pee yourself the first time Leon made you squirt, but you both suspect this time is different. 

“No, I’m really gonna pee this time.”

You’re clenching around him, he can feel it. Maybe you are going to squirt, he thinks. 

Piss is hardly the worst thing Leon’s been covered in – he’s 40 years old, old enough to give up on giving a fuck about this kind of thing. And, God, he’ll take any chance to tease you. 

“Didn’t Daddy ask you if you needed to go pee earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“And what did you say?”

“No.”

“Was that a lie? Did you lie to Daddy?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, since you made your choice by yourself and didn’t want daddy’s help, you’re not gonna get it. You can hold it until I’m done with you.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I can’t.”

“Then, I guess you’ll just have to let it out.”

“No, no, no, no, no. I don’t want to. I wanna hold it.”

Go right ahead, he thinks, as he continues to fuck you, completely disregarding your desperation. He wants to see you break and at this point, you’re doing anything to hold back, on the verge of tears. 

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you start to cry as warm liquid trickles out of you, coating his cock little by little as pee continues to flow from you. You only leak a little in the grand scheme of things, but you’re humiliated, full-on crying to the point where it’s worrisome.

Finally, he slows his thrusts. 

“Hey,” he rubs your back soothingly. “It’s okay. You’re not in trouble. I told you you could do it. I’m not mad at you.”

“It’s so embarrassing.”

“There’s no reason to be embarrassed. I bet it felt good to let go. Didn’t it?”

“A little bit… but I still have to go more.”

“Then, go, baby. Let it out.”

Because, one, it doesn’t matter at this point – he’ll have to change the sheets anyway. And, two, he finds the whole ordeal a bit more arousing than he suspected he would. 

When you dare to make eye-contact, you’ve got doubt written all over you, like you think this is some sort of trap or a sacrifice of his comfort for yours. 

“Go ahead. It’s gonna feel good.”

Nervous, but desperate, you have to let go. 

Leon praises you as you finally allow yourself some relief, releasing short bursts and then a steady stream. 

“You’re doing so well for me, baby. Let it all out.”

When the torrential downpour slows to a leaky faucet, his thumb finds its way to your clit and he resumes his thrusts, gaining momentum steadily. 

Your next revelation is not an ‘uh-oh’, just an ‘oh’ in a series of incoherent moans. 

“Daddy, daddy, I’m gonna-”

“I know you are.”

Neither of you can be sure if your next release is pee or squirt but what matters is that you came, squeezing Leon’s cock so perfectly that he’s barely hanging on by the time you’re coming down from your  high. 

Usually, he asks you where you want it, makes you beg for it inside, and he finally gives it to you, but now, his face is already buried in the crook of your shoulder as he’s given into the pleasure. 

He fills you to the brim, ruins the bed a little more for the sake of a heavenly orgasm. It’s totally fucking worth it every time. 

After a moment of silence, he pats you on the butt and says, “hop up, baby”.

“No,” you protest, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Baby, I’ll come right back, but I gotta pee.”

He laughs a little at the irony. It feels cruel in a way to make you piss yourself while he gets a more dignified experience. 

You’re ready to even out the score, quick to turn the tables. 

“No,” you insist. “You can either hold it or wait until I’m done with you.”

Leon should’ve anticipated your smartass move. 

“You really want me to piss inside you? ‘Cause that’s what’s gonna happen if you don’t let me get up.”

It’s a threat, it’s a promise, it’s a plea for you to let him go. 

“It’s only fair,” you say. 

“Fine,” he concedes, repositioning you so that you’re on your back. Yeah, he could get up, he could win now that he’s on top, but maybe there’s a part of him that wants to do this. To make you regret your attitude when you find out what it feels like for Leon to piss inside you, to prove something to you, to punish you – there are so many excuses, but the truth is: the idea excites him. 

“You ready?” he asks – though the question is more directed at himself as stage fright begins to creep up inside him. 

“You can do it, daddy,” you say, voice full of genuine encouragement rather than your previous taunting tone. 

So, he does. The release is double the relief with your warmth surrounding him as he lets go. You look awfully curious, almost in awe of the fact that it’s happening, especially since you can’t exactly see it – at least, not yet. But Leon’s feeling the type of relaxation that less obstinate people get from meditation. 

“All done,” he says, knowing that’s a fucking lie, but pulling out anyway, letting the last droplets hit you on the stomach.

“Daddy!” you say, amusement barely hidden behind your mild vexation. 

“Sorry,” he says with a shrug and a smirk that says he’s anything but. 

“I think it’s time for a trip to the bathroom. We really need to shower,” you say. 

“Hey, I just gave you a little bit of a shower, baby. If you wanted more, you could’ve asked.”

But that kind of shower will have to wait until next time. 

[utilitycaster]

in looking for posts about the end of C2 I found a self-inflicted ask meme (called that) in which I asked people to send wish items for C3 and first off, once we do have a hard episode count for C3 I might run something similar because it was fun, but also, looking through, some notes:

Laura playing a sorcerer was rather popular, as was Marisha as a high-Charisma character

Issylra setting REALLY popular...we got a smidge I suppose but this was not really a Continent In Depth campaign

people did want to see Travis as a lycan blood hunter, AND in some cases older characters

Lots of interest in an aeormaton too!

I really wanted to see Sam as a cleric, which is funny because I spent the first 30 episodes pissed off at FCG's execution but I DID come around, so. hat consumed.

why do people care so much about the seating arrangement. bestie i could not give a shit.

I think this campaign also made me go from "previously knowing each other can be good but I'm not interested in more twins, we've moved past that" to "let's keep the prior relationships either brief or like. require you submit a 10 page essay of backstory so we don't get some empty bullshit"

people REALLY liked wild magic barbarian so the fact that Taliesin and Matt were explicitly like "it sucks ass" is funny to me, a person who's neutral on it.

a lot of people wanted Travis as Tabaxi and I hate this and they got mad but I'm right and sexy and ready to have a long mean conversation with you about the anti-ableism leaving people's bodies when it comes to severe allergies.

3+ years and I still hate changelings and kalashtar I'm sexy and right on this one too

someone wanted a horse girl but a cavalier fighter; Imogen's horse girliness sort of didn't really have much time to be a thing (this is not a judgement, this is just, they weren't riding horses much bc of the nature of the campaign) and I would like a cavalier

*ironic laugh* multiple people wanting Laura specifically to play evil aligned.

people really wanted circle of spores for liam. there were a lot of repeats frankly that made no sense to me and i never got the answer. was there a server or something.

Travis INT or WIS caster when

Bard Ashley when

Sam's character should be taller than Travis's ACHIEVED FOR ALL BUT FCG & BERTRAND. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED.

everyone was like WELL OBVIOUSLY the cast will play elves for the sleep reasons and then no one did.

the specter of a Shadowgast child had already risen unfortunately. before the relationship was fully confirmed no less.

spelljammer fans are not intellectual to put it mildly

please GOD not everything has to be self-referential in-jokes. use your mind.

[bekolxeram]

I was reading a lot of fics about Tommy discovering Buck's new found stress baking habit post reunion, then this cringy idea popped into my mind. Now you get to suffer with me.

NSFW-ish

Lukewarm water, 360 grams. Honey, 10 grams. Dry yeast, 7 grams. Mix. Flour, 5… wait, no, wrong flour. Where’s my god damn bread flour? When was the last time I made bread? Oh yes, last month, right before Tommy and I got back together, it should be around… Ah, there, found it! No...

No!

Don’t get sentimental now, there’s no place for melancholy tonight.

“Sexy thoughts. Sexy thoughts.” Buck mutters to himself, desperately trying to stop his wandering mind from ruining his mood.

Think of Tommy. Hot, sexy, pilot.

The cyclic looks so small in his big yet surgically precise hand. It almost seems like he’s telepathically flying the chopper with his mind, not with his strong, steady arm. His fingers are long enough to engulf the control stick completely and more, sometimes he has to twist his wrist around just to flick the top… uh… the button on top.

He can feel the fabric of his sweatpants straining against his hip. The tight cotton shirt he picked out especially for the night feels extra tight around his rapidly warming skin. Good, it seems like his tactic is working.

And his pecs… that time when he wore nothing but his flight suit, umm... They’re so fun to play with, squeeze them, bite them, lick them, sleep on them, make them bounce. I don’t need to “explore” to be sure how much I love them. It’s not even about gender, I know a good pair when I see one.

Stop. No. He’s apologized. I’ve apologized. We’re all good.

It feels like all we do these days is to apologize, then have make up sex. Not saying it’s not good sex, but I want that light, fun sex we used to have, before we…

Don’t, don’t go there.

Anyway, oh, his beautiful face. The one stubborn strand of hair on his forehead that always refuses to comply with any hair product. The constellation of freckles scattered across his perfectly shaped nose. The sensual curve of his lips. The creases around his eyes and his cheeks when his whole face is lit up by that classic scrunchy smile. I swear they look even more prominent now… Oh! How could I forget, that delicious cleft on his chin. If there’s one saving grace coming out of the breakup, it’s his decision to double, no, triple his effort at the gym. His facial features look that much more striking on his now leaner body. Who gets over a heartbreak by becoming a Greek statue anyway? Pick up baking like a normal person, please.

Wait, I’m thinking about the breakup, aren’t I? Don’t. Don’t! Ugh… too late.

Buck lightly bangs his head against the counter in frustration. Deciding to focus on the task at hand instead, he promptly weighs out his flour, sprinkles in a pinch of salt, then pours the bubbly yeast mixture into the dry ingredients.

Just as he’s about to put his hands to work, he’s interrupted by a familiar rhythm at the door. Quickly wiping his hands on his apron, then pushing the waistband of his pants down by half an inch for Tommy’s viewing pleasure, he goes on to greet the man he’s been waiting for.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Tommy apologizes as he’s entering the loft. “I believe the infamous LA traffic still hasn’t recovered from the emergency freeway landing last year.”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Buck shoots him a reassuring smile, clearly delighted by having his beloved in his space again. “Make yourself at home, I’ll be right with you. I need to finish this dough first.”

“But I thought you said you wanted to relax tonight? Aren’t we just gonna order takeout?” Tommy’s visibly confused by Buck’s ongoing culinary endeavor.

“Oh, this? This is not for tonight. It has to proof until at least tomorrow morning,” Buck replies absentmindedly, his hands continue kneading the dough without pause.

“You don’t have to, Evan. I’m okay with no breakfast at all,” Tommy walks around the kitchen counter to give the hardworking baker a kiss on the temple. “As long as I’m with you.”

“Um… no, I’m making these because my parents are coming to town.”

“Tomorrow morning?!”

“In a month. They’re coming to see Maddie in a month. I’m just stress baking because they…” Buck lets out a sarcastic laugh, “they stress me out.”

“Ahhh… is that so? Well, I’m happy to have learned this about you. I never knew you could bake.”

“I couldn’t. I picked it up recently, after you…” Those dreaded words have already slipped out of his mouth before Buck realizes. He’s been trying his damnedest to steer the night away from this particular direction, but as it turns out, he’s utterly powerless against the freight train of emotions he’s been keeping deep inside. He briefly considers changing the subject, but Tommy’s heard him already. He perks up his eyebrows, signaling Buck to finish his sentence.

It’s better to rip off the band aid now, than to let it snowball into something unstoppable.

“...after you dumped me,” Buck comes clean reluctantly.

Tommy drops his eyes and sighs in understanding, before gently wrapping his arms around Buck from behind. “I’m sorry, baby,” he presses his lips onto the golden curls in front of him.

“Chimney told me, you have a tendency to run away if you’re being pushed too hard. I should wait for you to reach out instead of… the other way around.” Buck keeps working on his dough, intentionally averting his gaze from the man behind him.

“Mmhmm.”

“It was… agonizing. I saw you everywhere. I saw you at home, I saw you at the fire house. I saw you at the coffee shop. I saw you when a helicopter passed by in the sky. You were like… a ghost, haunting me, every waking moment of my life. You know what? Not even just waking, you were haunting my dreams, too. The only thing that managed to stop me from texting you was baking. I had all the supplies at home because I was planning to surprise you with a cake for your birthday but…”

Tommy abruptly lets go and backs off. While Buck fully expects the night to be ruined after his long winded ramble, he mourns the sudden loss of contact nonetheless.

Still not looking up from the increasingly elastic mass on the counter, Buck continues, “I just have to knead it for… um… 5 more minutes, then I’m all yours. Let’s start over, yeah? I’m over it, I’m okay now. Let’s forget about it and just… chill. There’s this movie I…” He’s cut off by Tommy’s return, arms secured around his waist once again, chest pressed firmly against his back, the only difference being that Buck can feel Tommy’s body heat radiating this time.

“Ghost, you said?” Tommy whispers, lips barely grazing the hair standing on Buck’s nape.

“Yeah…” Buck shivers. He turns his head slightly to take a peek at the man behind him.

Yes, Tommy’s shirtless.

“Mmm, keep going,” Tommy demands, hands sliding under the hem of Buck’s shirt to roam around his midsection, lips softly connected to the side of his neck.

So Buck keeps going. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate. Press. Rotate.

He feels two big hands caressing his shoulders, along his arms, then all the way down to his own busy hands.

“What are you making?”

“Ba — Bagels.”

“Umm… I love bagels,” Tommy lazily drags his mouth from Buck’s neck to his shoulder, leaving a trail of delicate kisses behind, “do you know how I like to take it?”

“How…?”

Tommy props his head back up, chin resting on the younger man’s shoulder. “Plain, with cream cheese,” he breathes straight into Buck’s ear. “So much cream cheese that it… oozes out everywhere. Leaking from the side, through the middle…” his tongue darts out to give that spot right underneath the earlobe an inquisitive lick. “I love it when it gets all over my face, painting my mouth white.”

Buck’s previously regular cadence starts faltering. He doesn’t know when to press or when to rotate the dough anymore.

“Hey, let me help you with that,” Tommy grabs a hand full of the dough, and squeezes, hard. Yet, the dough barely budges. “Oh, am I doing it wrong?”

Buck can’t help but giggle. “You have to knead with your palms, not your fingers. Here, let me show you,” he covers Tommy’s right hand with his own, and pushes the heel of his palm into Tommy’s wrist. “You want to fold the dough onto itself, then roll your palm out while pressing down. A bagel dough is supposed to be pretty stiff, so feel free to put your whole body weight into it.”

“Like this?” Tommy mimics exactly what Buck just showed him.

“I’ll give you an A,” Buck turns his head around, meeting Tommy’s gaze. Their faces are so close together, they can feel each other breathing. “You’re a fast learner.”

“I have the best teacher,” Tommy murmurs.

They naturally gravitate towards each other, like two stars on a collision course, until their lips clash together into a sloppy, filthy open-mouthed kiss.

Pulling back slightly to gasp for air, Buck’s pupils are completely blown out, leaving merely a thin icy ring around his dark pool of arousal. “You can use both hands if you want…”

“Let me try that,” Tommy surrounds Buck in his arms, pinning him against the kitchen surface. Then, he starts working on the dough, using his entire body, making sure to time every pressing motion with a thrust from the hip, rocking the younger man into the edge of the counter.

“Mmm — Ah…” the friction generated by Tommy’s movement alone is enough to make Buck moan. He never thought baking could be this erotic. “That — That works…”

He allows himself to enjoy Tommy’s sweet show of strength for a few moments before firmly gripping Tommy’s wrists, stilling him. “It’s — It’s done. Now we put it back into the mixing bowl,” he hastily drops the dough into the metal container, causing a loud thud, “and leave it in the fridge overnight.”

Tommy gives him one more kiss on the cheek, and a pat on his lower back, “go,” then steps aside.

Buck nearly trips over his own feet walking towards the fridge. He hears water running in the background, probably over Tommy’s talented hands. Wrapping up the stainless steel bowl with more than enough plastic wrap, then shoving the whole thing into an empty corner of his fridge, Buck is all too eager to return to Tommy’s touch.

Slamming the fridge door close, Buck whips his head around in a millisecond to catch an eye full of Tommy in his shirtless glory for the first time in the night. He’s drying his hands with a kitchen towel, finger by finger, his biceps flex every time he rubs a digit clean.

Buck walks straight up to the object of his desire, waiting no time to close their distance. Hooking an elbow around Tommy’s neck, he pulls him into a deep, urgent kiss, while his free hand travels down from Tommy’s clavicle towards his nipple.

“Wait,” Tommy stops the exploring hand on its track, “wash your hands first.”

Buck groans in frustration. He unties the knot in his back, takes off his apron, then swiftly treks towards the kitchen sink to prepare himself for the ensuing nighttime activities.

Tommy follows him, settling snugly behind Buck while he’s cleaning his hands. Tommy slowly dips his mischievous fingers into Buck’s waistband, pleasantly surprised to find bare skin underneath.

“Oh, no underwear? Someone’s eager tonight,” Tommy says in a seductive tone.

Roughly drying his hands on his own shirt, Buck spins around to face Tommy, “I’ve been waiting for you to notice…” Feeling Tommy’s fingers tapping the hem of his top, Buck peels it off right away, letting those enormous hands roam free across his body.

“Bed?” Tommy asks in between kisses.

“Couch.” Buck pants.

Just when Buck’s calculating in his head the logistics of moving to the couch without breaking contact with his man, Tommy withdraws his hand from Buck’s bare skin.

“Hold on tight,” Tommy suddenly grabs onto the back of Buck’s thighs and lifts him clear off the ground, carrying him towards the underside of the loft.

[ladykailitha]

A Love For Christmas Part 7

Hello! Welcome to penultimate chapter! I've been loving the little guess on the elf, who will be revealed tonight in the final chapter. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged. You make my day brighter.

Sledding is fun is because it's dangerous. And the company holiday party arrives.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~

The next thing I put the little elf in charge of was the sleds used for sledding. There isn’t much to do in the North Pole, so we always trying to have some fun. Ice skating and sledding are two such pleasures we get to enjoy year round.

I let out a jolly laugh to see that they were finally having fun. Just enjoying themselves and being free.

I should have known that wasn’t going to last.

They got up on the highest hill with the swiftest sled and with one mighty push, they were careening down the slope, getting faster and faster.

I thought for sure they would hit the bottom of the slope and jackknife right into the snow bank at the bottom.

But I was wrong.

What happened might well be considered worse.

They hit the bottom of the slope, but instead of slowly, like it was meant to, it kept going. The elf tried to steer. To get it to slow down.

But it was fruitless.

They saw what was coming and dived off the sled, rolling into the snow. They rose in time to watch the runaway sled crash through the remaining snowpeople, knocking them down like bowling pins or dominoes.

They looked up at me, eyes wide with shame and bewilderment. There was no reason it should have continued like that.

And I suspected sabotage and sure enough another elf’s name appeared on my naughty list that afternoon.

So I gathered up the elf and told them, I would find something special for them to do. Something I knew they could be good at if they tried.

Making friends.

~

When Steve told Eddie that he had never gone sledding because it was too dangerous, the arborist made his mission to get Steve on the slopes as soon as possible. But that meant it would be the morning of the office Christmas party, which Steve was absolutely fine with.

Hell, if it was as dangerous as his mother claimed, maybe he would be in the hospital with a broken leg and he wouldn’t even have to go.

He bought a nice two person sled as well a single seater and brought them to Eddie’s nursery as that was where he was meeting him.

Wayne came out first as he always did because he liked talking to Steve.

“Hey Steve,” he greeted warmly. “I hear you’re taking Eddie to that fancy ‘do of yours tonight. Aren’cha worried he might bring little bit more...bedlam then the occasion calls for?”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “God, I hope so! I hope he brings all the chaos loving, long haired, metalhead energy he has in him. I want people to see how wonderfully wild and outrageous he is, because I that’s what I adore about him.”

Wayne blinked at him for a moment and then rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “And Eddie is aware of this...plan?”

“Yup!” Eddie said cheerfully, popping out from behind one of the Noble firs. “It’s part of the reason I agreed to go. Me and Stevie here are going to have a real good time.”

Wayne shook his head fondly. “All right, as long you both know what you’re in for, I’m not going to stop ya.”

“We’re taking my van,” Eddie said, turning to Steve, “if that’s okay.”

“Yup!” Steve replied licking his lips and pursing them to hide the bright smile on his face. “I’ll just grab my sleds and I’ll meet you at the van.”

“Great!” Eddie said full dimples on display and Steve couldn’t help the feeling of warmth that sunk into his soul that it was aimed at him.

He hurried to his car and got the two sleds out of his car and trotted over to Eddie’s van.

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Wha’cha got two for?”

“I’m too chicken to go myself the first couple of times,” he said holding up the two-seater. “So I’m hoping you’ll go with me in this. And then...” he held up the single person sled, “once I’m brave enough to go on my own, that’s what this is for!”

Eddie cocked his head to the other side, admiring him. “That’s some good thinking. Of course I’ll come with you the first couple of times until you get your sled legs.”

Steve laughed, putting the sleds in the back of Eddie’s van. “What the fuck is sled legs?”

They both got in the van.

“It’s like sea legs only with sledding.”

Steve shook his head. “Of course it is. What was I thinking?”

“You weren’t,” Eddie said, starting the engine. “But that’s because you’re in the presence of the wonderful me! It’s such a trial to be this pretty!”

He leaned into Steve’s space and fluttered his eyelashes at him. So Steve did the only thing he could think of.

He kissed the tip of Eddie’s nose. “You’re cute.”

Eddie blushed and sputtered. “You’re going to ruin my reputation is what you’re going to be doing here, Stevie.”

Steve just laughed.

They got to the park where they were doing the sledding and the hills were covered in people of all ages screaming and laughing and just have a blast.

“This always looked so fun to me growing up,” Steve said wistfully. “But my mom would never allow me to go. Not even when my best friends tried to sic their moms at her. It was just too much for her precious boy.”

“Well, you’re in for a treat!” Eddie said gleefully throwing himself out of the van. Steve scrambled to catch up.

They grabbed their sleds and raced to the hill.

Will spotted them first and started waving vigorously. Steve and Eddie grinned, then made their way to them.

“Hey!” Mike said with a returning grin. “You guys made it. We’ve been here for hours!”

And they certainly looked it. Their cheeks and noses were red and their pants were soaked to their skin, but they looked like they could go all day without breaking their stride.

“Some of us work for a living,” Eddie groused. “Teenagers!”

“Nancy and Robin both work and they’ve been here all morning,” Dustin huffed, pointing over to the two girls.

There standing on the top of the hill in snow suits. Robin, Steve clocked immediately. She was in a mix-matched suit that was navy blue on the bottom but an ugly brown up top. The other girl was all in pink with bright blue mittens, cap, and scarf. Her curly hair stuck from her under her cap and her cheeks were rosy.

Honestly, if Steve hadn’t known any better, he would have pegged Eddie as her brother, not Mike.

“That was nice of their bosses to let them take the day off,” Steve said with a smirk. “Eddie’s is running the nursery with just him and Wayne, and my boss is a bag of dicks. So...maybe don’t compare what you don’t know.”

Everyone turned and looked at Steve wide-eyed like they had just witnessed a murder. Which, Steve thought with a huff, they probably had.

Then everyone oohhing and whistling and calling Mike out. He just rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever.”

That was when Steve knew he had truly won.

Eddie set down his sled and then took the two seater from Steve. “You ready for this, big boy?”

“I guess, I’m ready as I’ll ever be,” Steve said with a smile.

Eddie set up the sled at the top of the hill and said, “All right, you get on first and steer and I’ll push, okay?”

Steve nodded and did as he was told. Then suddenly they were off, sliding down the hill at breakneck speed. Steve did his best to avoid hitting the major bumps and too soon they were at the bottom of the hill.

“That was fun!” Steve said, turning around to face Eddie. “Let’s do that again!”

And so they did. Steve spent most of the afternoon on the two seater or drinking hot chocolate with Robin, trying to warm up to go back at it. She was there to supervise.

“I’m here to make sure no one gets hurt,” she said dryly. “I’m just too uncoordinated to do it.”

“So come with me on the two-seater,” Steve said. “I’ll push and you steer.”

Robin chewed her lip and then nodded. Steve grabbed it from where it was sitting next to him and hauled it over to the top of the hill. Once they were all sorted, Steve pushed them off with a shriek of laughter and they were tearing off down the hill.

They slowed at the bottom and she looked back at Steve with a wide grin. “Let’s do that again!”

Steve laughed as she echoed his previous statement.

Then it was time for Steve to try his solo trip down the hill. Robin agreed to push him gently down the hill and Eddie offered to spot him at the bottom to help ease his fears.

Steve got settled on the sled but before Robin could even push him, the sled wobbled and started off down the hill on its own. Steve yelped as he struggled to steer the sled. But it was no good, he was heading right for a bump.

“Look out!” he cried as he hit the bump going top speed.

Everyone at the bottom of the hill scrambled to get out of the way. Steve caught air and landed hard at the bottom of the hill, tumbling out of the sled and rolling to the side.

Eddie was standing over him when he finally dared to open his eyes. “Hey, you okay?”

Steve took a moment to take stock. “Sadly, yes. But I think that means I’m done for the day.”

Eddie burst out laughing and helped him to his feet. They said their goodbyes to everyone and made their way to Eddie’s van.

“Thanks so much for today,” Steve said as he climbed in. “It’s been really nice hanging out with you guys all month.”

Eddie smiled fondly. “Of course, Stevie. I just hope you find Christmas just a little bit better.”

“Yeah.”

~

Eddie was dressed up as nicely as he could be, black button up shirt, nice black slacks, but he paired them with combat boots, a leather jacket and as many chains as he could get his hands on. Steve was dressed in a simple dark grey suit with a white shirt and red tie. Eddie thought he looked dashing.

They walked in through doors of Steve’s office building and while Eddie had been there before with the trees he hadn’t seen it decked out. Joyce’s ornaments were beautifully placed and Claudia’s cooking was being doled out by servers in black vests.

“Wow,” he murmured. “You sure do know how to plan a party. Damn, man. You did good for someone who out-nerved Robin that day when you came to the nursery.”

Steve blushed. “Thanks, Eds.”

Eddie’s head whipped over at the nickname and he just lit up brighter than the Christmas tree.

Then a loud, boisterous man came storming up to them. “Steven, what is the meaning of this? You were supposed to bring a date, not the help!”

Steve blinked at him a moment and then cocked his head to the side. “But you didn’t say that though. You said I was expected to bring someone, not a date. So I picked Eddie. He’s been a real asset to helping plan this party, I couldn’t have done it without him.”

Mr. Harrington stuttered and stammered before leaving the way he came, in a huff.

“So...that was you’re dad I’m assuming,” Eddie said with a grimace. “Because hooboy, I can see why you don’t talk about him much.”

“Yep,” Steve said dryly, rocking back on his heels. “Clint Harrington, asshole extraordinaire.”

“Hey, I’m going to get something to drink,” Eddie said trying to change the subject. “You want anything?”

“Just water.”

Eddie frowned at that but went and got him an apple cider, some food and goodies, and brought Steve over some water.

“There you go,” he said brightly.

“Thanks,” he said taking a sip of the water.

He held up his plate. “You want any of this?”

Steve shook his head. “I’ll eat later.”

Eddie dug into his food and they chatted. Everyone gave them both a wide berth and Steve loved every moment of it.

“Thanks for this,” Steve said brightly after the third person skirted around them. “I’ve never had such a peaceful party before.”

Eddie chuckled. “You’re welcome. I’m going to get more of the gingerbread snaps, you want anything.”

Again Steve shook his head.

“I don’t know why you won’t take any of the spoils of your labor,” Eddie said, shaking his head. “You deserve to eat this too.”

Steve looked up at him with a slight smile. “I’m allergic to orange. I literally can’t have any of it because it’s likely been touched by orange in someway, and I’d rather not spend Christmas in the ICU.”

Eddie eyes went wide. “Come again?”

Steve shrugged. “My parents do this every year. I’ve been allergic since I was seven, but they always had Christmas with everything covered in orange and complained when I refused to eat any of it.”

“Dude,” Eddie hissed. “That’s like child abuse.”

“Yeah.”

Eddie looked around and saw that everyone else was having fun while Steve was forced to put on a smile and not enjoy any of it.

“Do you want to get out of here and grab a burger?”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, sure. I just need to do something really quick. I’ll meet you by the car.”

Eddie nodded and went downstairs.

Steve slipped into his office and sent off an email with a grin on his face. As he was leaving his father stopped him.

“I’m don’t know what you are trying to pull with this,” he hissed. “But your mother doesn’t want to see you until after New Year’s, she that upset!”

Steve shook him off. “Maybe I’ll get to eat something for Christmas for a change.”

He stormed off, racing down the stairs and out into the crisp winter air. Eddie was by Steve’s car and he just held his arms open.

Steve dashed right into them and buried his head into Eddie’s neck. “I just quit.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “You did what now?”

“I sent in my two weeks notice, dated today,” Steve said with a grin. “They won’t see until the 5th of next month when they all come back, but by then the two weeks will be up and they’ll have to give my severance as well as all my PTO that I’ve accrued.”

“And just how much will that be?” Eddie asked looking down at this man of his dreams.

“At least sixty thousand dollars,” Steve replied, his grin growing wider. “Enough to get me through school to get my teaching degree so I can teach middle school.”

Eddie burst out laughing. “You are a menace, Steve Harrington.”

“Yeah.”

“Come over to our place on Christmas,” Eddie said, “enjoy the holiday for a change.”

“That sounds wonderful.”

~

Tag List: SEVEN SLOTS REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @tartarusknight @themoonagainstmers

[byoldervine]

Been seeing a lot of ‘don’t tell people that their first draft is supposed to suck’ posts lately and I want to make it extra clear for anyone with literal thinking or who may otherwise have been lead under any impression otherwise;

What any advice-giver worth their salt should mean when they say this is “Don’t worry about getting it perfect on the first draft, it’s not obligated to be the best work you could ever make it right off the bat”

For a lot of people the first draft is often the worst draft, and as such we tend to jump to reassuring people that their first draft is meant to be that way, to assure them that it’s not a true reflection of the quality of their writing skills - but that doesn’t mean that it’s the same for everyone, and many people absolutely adore their first drafts, myself included

Because let’s be honest; the first draft isn’t inherently bad. Many are actually incredible, in fact! Sometimes editing isn’t to fix something, it’s just to refine it; sand off the edges and paint on a last coat of polish. It doesn’t mean that what you have isn’t good, and I’d bet money that even the writers who think their first drafts are abominations have written some amazing first drafts

And the idea that your first draft has to be bad because you didn’t suffer the whole time you worked on it? I want to promise you something; the more you enjoy creating it, the better the story will be. You’ll be more creative and imaginative and your readers will feel the love and care pouring out of every word. Nobody wants to read something that nobody wanted to write. There are very, very few ways to write wrong, and the biggest one is to not overall enjoy it

The term ‘suffer for your art’ gets thrown around a lot, and the way I interpret it is that you should be willing to persevere with your passions even when it becomes difficult, as well as learning from your experiences and allowing them to shine through in your work. This means knowing when to take a break when it’s no longer fun, then coming back to it when you’re next in the right headspace to do so, not that you need to push through burnout or god forbid hate the entire process of writing

The number one rule of creative writing, or any form of art, is to have fun. The process can be long and challenging and stressful, and you’re bound to hit a rough patch at least once, if not many more times, just like with any long-term project. But if you’re not ultimately enjoying the process, what’s the point? Suffering for your art does not mean that art is suffering

Write for fun. Enjoy the process, even if you don’t enjoy every step of it. Suffering for your art doesn’t mean hating it. You’re allowed to like your first draft, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Your first draft may very well be your worst draft, as the nature of drafting goes, but your worst is still good and worth loving and enjoying. Anyone who tells you that any first draft is inherently bad either has a different take on the meaning of the phrase or is sadly misinformed. And even if something is inherently bad doesn’t make it unenjoyable or unlovable, or vice versa

[thatgirlwithasquid]

ooo okay this looks fun (and i am procrastinating like a bitch rn so...)

Hm, I'm not sure. Maybe The Naming of Hobbits by @andhumanslovedstories? It was one of the first fics I read when I got into using AO3 and I remember it giving me a good giggle. I really should go back and reread it. It must've been years since I've read it by now... And yet I still think of it fondly as 'that funny The Hobbit fic' so it clearly left a very good impression :)

So many. So many make me cry. I've reread Time Falls Away by @not-close-to-straight like three times I think? And each time the line 'I don't know this part of the story' has me UGLY SOBBING. Love it. Absolutely an amazing read. I still haven't worked my way up to the third fic in the series cause the emotions are still too strong rn, but I am very excited for whenever I finally do! I also gotta mention All Is Fair In Love by @stranger-awakening cause OH MY GOD nothing has ever hurt me like this fic hurt me. The pain. It just kept getting worse. It was so good but I needed frequent breaks when reading cause the emotions were So Much. I'm also just realising I never kudosed that fic and OMG I AM SO SORRY. I was too caught up in the throes of agony, I apologise!!

My comfort fic is definitely Petey and Wade discuss the proper way to go about vigilantism (and maybe they fall in love too) by @isadancurtisproduction. I have read that fic at least once a year since I first came across it. I love it so much, it's insane. It may even be my all time favourite fanfic

I am gonna have to say Rapture by mia_ugly on AO3. I read it out of morbid curiosity and I have not been the same since. This is the fic that introduced me to this type of time travel fics, where the time travel muddies the relationships and makes everything angsty and confusing and secretive. It is my FAVOURITE kind of angst and I have read multiple other fics with the same trope since. I adore them <3

Oh, 100% @sheena-is-a-punk-rocker. Since I read all your quinnflag fics and loved them so much I started on my own quinnflag wip. Started off thinking 'how would they have gotten together before The Suicide Squad?' like they are in your The Suicide Squad but Rick and Harley are already dating series (which is such a fun read and deserves all the love!!) and my wip has become its own thing from there :)

Lol I'm not the best authority for this since I do not read much fic for either of my main fandoms (sorry Stranger Things and The World of Mr Plant!) but I definitely think @kittyphoenix12-xx's work deserves so much more love. I need to read more of your fics, babes, cause the ones I have read are SO good. I TREASURE that cunningway fic you gifted to me, and getting to beta a couple of your works was such an honour. I especially loved the stars look down and know, cause it's so so sweet!!!

Good question... Commenting, I guess. That's the obvious answer. And I really need to work on it myself (and I'm trying!!) but we could always do with more commenting. Authors love seeing it so we need to do our part more (which is why I'm tagging the authors in this despite being a bit nervous about that lol, cause you guys deserve hearing how wonderful I think your fics are :) )

I really don't know. I don't like telling people not to do things cause I think that's just rude. Fanfic is for fun, and if you like doing something that someone else thinks there's too much of then fuck them! Have fun with it cause that's all that matters. I see people complaining about certain things from time to time and just think 'well... you could just... not?' Maybe that's what I wish there was less of in fandom: people feeling the need to make a fuss when they don't like something, cause most of the time when I see it it's over the most non-problem things.

Alternative Fic Recs

Fic recs are a great way to introduce people to stories you love. But instead of a list, you could try this format instead? I've tried it before and I really liked it, as it made me think about the fics I've read differently.

This isn't a tag game or an ask game. You can copy, repost, reblog, share and edit this at will if you're looking to do a fic rec :)

The fic that's made you laugh the most?

What's a fic that makes you cry?

Your fave comfort, silly fic?

The fic that made you try a genre or a trope you wouldn't normally read.

An author that's inspired your own fic writing (if you're an author), or your TBR list (if you're a reader).

Your fave "underdog" fics/authors in your fandom(s). Those that you feel are underappreciated and deserve some love.

What's one thing you wish writers/readers/the fandom did more of when it comes to fanfiction?

What's one thing you wish writers/readers/the fandom did less of when it comes to fanfiction?

[mrslaflour]

📸 cheese babe.

pairing — taehyun x reader

warnings — noncon filming, restraints, reader is drugged tf out, taehyun totally just cum shotted all over reader, somnophilia things but no sex scene, didn’t proof read shit, all lowercase

notes — VERY QUICK DRABBLE. yes, yes i did post this before grape party kai. this is a tiny drabble to hold you over that i just scribbled down basically :p.

you feel numb. tingles spreading throughout your whole body but you can’t move a single muscle. your eyes can only part slightly, everything else remaining blurry. god, how late is it? was this just another late night nap? you hear a click and then a bright flash come through your eyes causing you to groan.

“you’re awake?”

another voice. in your room? you live alone. you go to speak up but nothing comes out. nothing can come out. it’s like your tongue is just dead and your lips refuse to fully part. you go to sit up but even that task isn’t possible. your arms are stuck behind your back, you finally notice that. but still. you should be able to lift your chest. now you’re worried and your breathing becomes heavier and more strained. it wasn’t until you felt a cold hand press against your chest that you realized you probably were naked. you say probably considering that fact that you can’t move your head to look and you can barely see out of your eyes in the first place.

“you’re my muse for the night. you’re drugged the fuck out though, so if you’re freaking out due to the sensory issues, there’s your answer.”

a man’s voice. that’s all you could get out of what he just said. well, other than the fact that he definitely either kidnapped you or has you out in the back of an alley, once again, you’re literally in the dark. it’s starting to even become difficult to think straight. he moves his hand from your chest and brushes a hair behind your ear.

“i’ll show you the pictures when i’m done and well, when you’re not so out of it.”

he moves away and you hear a few more clicks and see a few more flashes. your eyes shut, and you decide to keep them like that. you feel him push you onto your back and spread your legs open. feeling an extremely cold breeze against your sex. you hear him mumble a few things, but you can’t make them out.

“can you smile?”

it’s silent. you can’t respond and he just laughs. you feel what feels like a giant weight on top of you and two fingers prodding at the corners of your mouth pushing it into a smile and the click of his camera again. that noise was gonna drive you crazy. you feel his arms move lower and start rubbing your sides and gliding through your collarbone.

“i could really have my way with you right now. don’t have to worry about you bitching, screaming for me to stop, pushing me away…”

he pauses.

“but that would be too easy. a struggle is always fun.”

he slaps you and tilts his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“could you feel that? are you still there?”

you slightly open your eyes and the tiniest tear pokes out. he hums in content.

“assuming you can hear me, just know you shouldn’t piss me off. i’m not afraid to kill you. it’s not hard for me to find someone new.”

he stands up off of you and you close your eyes again once the camera flash blinds you again. you feel him go to mess with your wrists and the slightest bit of tension seems to be released. he has a hold on one of your wrists and moves it over to your crotch and your other hand to your breast. moving you around like a doll.

“say cheese…”

another click. another flash.

“you look like a fucked out drunk little bimbo. i should live stream this and have people tell me what i should do to you. would give me some more ideas of what positions to put you in for my photos.”

you’re passed out. well…not completely. you can feel everything he’s doing, hear everything, but you can’t think anymore, and you can’t even open your eyes anymore. more tingles bouncing throughout your body.

the sound of a different button can be heard as well as the sound of the camera being placed on the floor. you hear his footsteps come closer to you and the sound of a zipper.

“i know i said it’d be too easy but i have plenty of chances to let you play hard to get after this.”

you hear him groan a couple times before you feel something cold dripping on your stomach and slowly moving up to your face.

“what a shot. can you say cheese for the video?”

he leans down and you feel his hand touch your face before he moves your face on its side. presumably so you can face said camera. you then feel full all the sudden. a sense of splitting in you and you groan. the feeling starts to become painful.

“sh, just lay there and look pretty and let me do all the work.”

he goes deeper in you as he moves up more so he can put his finger on the corner of your lips and moves it up into a smile again.

“say cheese!”