#and none of us expected him to go for the hot sauce

[eats-the-stars]

upside to a workplace w/shop cats: free kitty time! take a short break to pet one of these little fur-balls

neutral side to a workplace w/shop cats: i have heard each of my coworkers meow at least once, which is odd but neither good nor bad

downside to workplace w/shop cats: one is obsessed with knocking over cups, making water placement a delicate act. also he once knocked a glass bottle of hot-sauce onto one of the machines and i had to clean it all up while he just sat there and took in the free entertainment

[emo-batboy]

Battinson and Food

He’s vegetarian and I will hear none of your crap

Depression meals, so many depression meals

I already made a post of his greatest hits here but here's three more:

A whole tub of apple sauce

Instant grits mixed with a hot chocolate packet

And a bowl of croutons

Some meals have actually graduated from the “Depression Meal” category to “Whenever I Can Sneak It Out of the Kitchen” status (because Alfred is appalled every time)

Dick, with the invincible, titanium-lined stomach of a 9yo, doesn’t know why Bruce makes them, but he loves taking bites of Bruce’s weird concoctions.

His favorites so far are:

Cream cheese and jelly sandwich

Spoonfuls of peanut butter (with chocolate chips, that was his idea)

And frozen garlic bread

Diner Food is King. (This is New Jersey. What did you expect?) His go-to order is two eggs over easy, well-done rye toast, grits with syrup and butter, and a fruit cup with no melons from the 24-hour place two blocks east. Hasn’t changed since he was five. Never will.

Bruce can cook food that is edible. Edible.

Like if he tries to make Italian, he can successfully cook the pasta. He can make a basic sauce. He can even plate it.

The tomato sauce is crunchy in some places, yes, but it’s fine :) and it is edible

but Bruce has NEVER succeeded in a baking endeavor, and it positively devastates him every single time

“Baking is science! I love science! I’m great at science. So why didn’t the cake rise when I did everything on the recipe?!” “You need to make it with love-“ “That wasn’t on the ingredients list, Alfred!”

He can handle spice surprisingly well. It’s not like he could avoid it while training all over the world, so he ended up building a tolerance, but his eyes still go unbelievably red every time.

He really fucks with bagels (I mean, what self-respecting Gothamite doesn’t) and he has a very specific bagel order for every possible mood from the great place downtown

The workers at Bagel Kingdom know which moods correspond with which order, and they have a designated spreadsheet taped to the back of the counter so they can work accordingly.

They know he’s barely hanging in there when he gets a toasted blueberry bagel with no butter.

He’s having a good day when he gets a plain bagel sandwich with tomato, provolone, two fried eggs, and hot sauce. In that order. That’s the shit

When he’s stressed, he gets a pumpernickel bagel with strawberry cream cheese to cheer himself up.

The workers of Bagel Kingdom will NOT let you disrespect his bagel.

Bruce almost burnt the tower down when he tried to cook a toaster waffle in the microwave while running on 40 hours without sleep, and he just kept cooking it because it wasn’t crisping for some reason

Alfred needs to force him to eat all the time

(It is definitely because Bruce suffers from disordered eating.)

There was one period of time in which Bruce went days without food, and Alfred (lovingly) threatened to send him to in-patient if he didn’t eat

Bruce said that those gross, mushy, lukewarm blueberries were the only thing he’d tolerate when he was struggling, so blueberries became their indicator: if Bruce can’t stomach blueberries, he goes to in-patient.

He’s gone twice, and Bruce was very mad each time, but he still uses healing methods that he was taught in there so it couldn’t have been that bad.

(He’s also friends with some of the nurses now. He, Denise, and Kayleigh have a group chat.)

Dick once convinced him to test taste different kinds of olive oil to learn the difference between regular and extra virgin. It was absolutely disgusting, and he ended up puking an hour later. Alfred now puts child locks on the kitchen cabinets.

The first time Bruce ever makes a meal that doesn’t look horrid is when he spends two weeks practicing Romani dishes for Dick the month after he adopts him.

He has since perfected three different recipes:

Stuffed peppers

Goulash

Cabbage rolls

(Keep in mind Dick is not vegetarian like Bruce.)

He tried making almond cake like 80 times (which is more like a biscuit but still a baked good) but could never do it right so Alfred makes them instead.

At dinner time, Dick always eats off Bruce’s plate more than his own. Alfred has chastised him several times, but Bruce only encourages him more. He thinks it’s cute. And so does the general public when they attend dinner parties.

One of Bruce's favorite memories of his parents is when he had a bad dream in the middle of the night so Thomas and Martha drove him out to the nearest diner to have a chocolate milkshake at 3 am.

Now, after patrol, if Bruce saw something traumatic or something that reminded him of his parents’ death, he’ll go to that same 24-hour diner and sit for a bit with a chocolate milkshake.

He continues this tradition after Dick becomes Robin. (Even if it took months for Bruce to even consider the idea of letting Dick near harm’s way.)

No matter how hard he tries to keep Dick away from the gruesome stuff, he can’t stop everything. They get milkshakes a lot more than Bruce would like.

But eventually, it turns into a treat whenever Dick does well in school or needs a pick-me-up.

And when they add Jason to the mix, they introduce him to the tradition as well.

They know everything will be okay when they have chocolate milkshakes together.

[mamieishere]

How to row a hook-up

MDNI

disclaimer : unprotected sex, quickie, doggy style, creampie, semi public, teasing, breeding kink, no name mentioned

You met him on a dating app. You liked his profile because of his blue hair. It's not common and you love someone with their own personality. He was a traveler, coming we-don't-know-where and indicated that he was around for several days.

There was no expectation, you liked some other profiles. You got some matches and started to talk with them but they weren't interesting or too weird. You gave up for the night and went to bed. Tomorrow evening your friend will arrive and the both of you will head to the most anticipated festival of the year. How exciting is it to finally being able to enjoy music lives.

When you woke up the next morning, you were anything but a portable battery, too much energy, too much happiness... too much eve everything.

You headed to the shower and had a full body wash, hair included. Summer nights were hot and humid, so much so that you needed to wash your hair daily. After getting dressed, you picked up your phone and oh! missing notifications. It was the blue haired cutie. He liked you back! FUCK!

"Hi! I'm here for a few days. I'm going to be honest, I need someone who speaks the local language... Are you in?" 4 hours ago

"Ha ~ Finally, I wasn't that honest. I have a big event this weekend and I am very stressed. It's impromptu but could you help you to reduce this tension?" 4 hours ago

"I mean in a sexual way?" 3 hours ago

"Wait... It's impossible to erase a message on this app??? Fuck it." 5 minutes ago

"You know what? Forget it, nvw. It was unsolicited." now

You laughed. He was cute and kinda strange in a way.

"Hey :) sure I'm in, even for a tension revealed thing if you want." now

You texted back without proofreading, probably because you'd cringe at your message. You tossed your phone on your bed. after all, What are the chances that he will respond now? Obviously none.

You planned to go on a self date, one of your fave thing. You put a little make, mascara and lip gloss, grab your bag stuffed with keys, wallet, a book and your flying phone. Headphones on your ears, you headed out to a cozy restaurant nearby to the hotel.

The atmosphere was hushed, the lights were subdued and the ceiling had mouldings. A perfect place to order a fancy dish and a glass of white wine in the back corner out of sight. After the waiter has taken your order and came back with your drink, you took your book and started peacefully your me-time.

A group of about ten people took the table on the right. They were loud, chaotic dressed in expensive clothing. You sighted and turn on the headphones again. You looked for your phone to play some music. While the tracks scrolled across the screen, he popped up. You jumped on your seat, hurting the table.

- "HOLLY... ", you restrained yourself from screaming and rubbing your knees. The neighbours at the table turned around with surprised looks. "My apologies", you nodded, pressed play to the first track coming and hid behind your book.

"Hello again! Thank God, I'm glad you did answer. I'm not used to dating apps, probably because I'm not allowed to. Had I say I was relieved? Haha I'm rumbling... Anyways, I'm going to dinner in a restaurant, would you like to recommend me a dish? I'm so lost... " 3 minutes ago

You laughed softly.

"Okay, it's funny because I'm in a restaurant too currently. I order a croque madame, it's a hot sandwich studded with béchamel sauce, cheese and ham plus there's a sunny side up on the top of it. It comes with a salad. So, I guess you may order this too!" now

"THANK YOU!" now

Oh the answer came very quickly this time. You left your phone on the table with the book, as the waiter came back with your dish.

Oh it was delicious... The bread was crispy outside but still soft and buttery. The egg was perfect, the ham and cheese tasty and smoked. It was heaven,all of this combined with the jazz music playing... It was orgasmic.

"I guess you gave me a good choice. It looks yummy. *one picture attached *" now

Your eyes widen once again. The picture of his dish was exactly the same than yours, the dishes, the tablecloth, everything. You raised your head and started to search around you. He was here.

*Wait... We are in the same restaurant. Oh lol, where are you?" now

You kept looking for some blue hair but failed. Was it a joke? Where was he? After 5 minutes, your message was still unread. You decided to go to the bathroom, leaving your things under the waiter supervision.

Until someone grabbed your hand and guided you to the first nearby room. You were about to scream when your kidnapper switch on the light. Blue hair. Oh.

- "Hey... hey hey hey", he whispered "I'm so sorry, I caught you by surprise. I recognized you when I entered the restaurant earlier. I wanted to give you a hand sign but as I was with my band and the staff, it was impossible. Please accept my apologies. But jeez you're beautiful. Ah sorry I'm rambling again... Hey? Hello, Earth?"

Of course you heard him but you were shut. He was stunning, his delicate face, his bobba eyes contrasted so well with his blue hair. You were subjugated.

- "Yeah? Hi...", the words fell from your mouth.

- "Are you okay? Are you shocked?" he panicked "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry.".

You put your hand on his chest. "Are you real...?" you asked randomly. He burnt out of laughter,took your hand and swapped your fingers with his own.

- "Hello sweetheart, yes I'm real", he cooed with a chuckle. He took your chin and replaced a strand of hair out of your face. "May i kiss you?"

Wow, that was bold but not as bold as you, putting your hands on his shoulders for leverage, you reached to his mouth and put a lingering kiss on his lips. He caught you and deeper the kiss, glued his body to yours.

- "Ah princess... I want you now, can I have you now?", You looked at him and nodded. "Use your words baby. ".

- "Ha.... yes, please. Are you not afraid that someone caught us?".

He cadged you between his body and the door.

- "No, I'm not. You'll have to stay quiet if you don't want to be discovered.", He leaned to kiss you again. Both of you had a little time. His hands made their path under your shirt going for the claps of your bra. You weren't wearing a bra, oops. He broke the kiss and gave you a stern look.

- "Oh my. What do we have here?", he raised your hands with one hand while his others reached up your top, exposing your chest to the cold air, making your nipples harder than they already were. He started to leave little pecks on your neck, down to your collarbone, decorating it with purple and finally reaching to your left boob.

- "Let's start with your heart side would you?", he rolled the sensitive tip between his digits, cutting off a moan of you. He urgently put his hand on your mouth. "Stay quiet baby if you don't want to get caught".

He freed your hands which ended up on his shoulders again and licked your nipple. Your chest arched, giving him more flesh. You moaned again, silently. His other hand found a place on your hips, rubbing slow circles.

- "Touch me, please...", Your voice was almost a whisper. "May I have your fingers in me?"

It was all it took for him to snap. He got back on his feet, turned you around and lifted your skirt.

- " Oh baby wants my fingers?", he teased. "Baby wants me to finger your needy hole?"

He didn't give enough time to answer before he ripped soaking panties, stuffed you with two fingers at an incredible rough pace. You felt the first sprinkles of pleasure and he added a third one. Soft moans weren't enough, louder ones erupted from your throat as he stopped them by placing a hand on your filfy mouth.

- "I told you to stop being noisy", his action hadn't the expected effect, your creamed his hand. "Fuck that's hot. May I give you my cock sweetie, uh? Want me to fill you up? Breeding you with my seeds?".

Unable to form a coherent sentence, you gave him a "Ha... y... es fuck, gimme y-your see-seeds".

While licking his digits, he undid his pants, freeing his erected dick from the confines of his underwear. One hand came to press on your back to put your pussy on display. You felt him, rubbing his cock along your folds, teasing your entrance. You tried to push your hips back on him to finally get your dream fulifilled.

- "tsk... baby no... that's not how we ask to be fucked"

- "please, I can't... oh shit!", he penetrated you in one full stroke. He snapped his hips on yours, making the head of his penis kissed your cervix, forcefully. The pace he chose left no space for mercy. You thought you were going to cum only by being penetrated until he reached your clit only to play with it. As his pace maintained a high drive, he doodled circles on your bundle of nerves.

- "Fuck baby girl, cum... cum for me. Cum on my cock, I want to feel it", he bite your ear. Then everything became colorful. You came hard around him, squeezing your insides like never you did before. He helped by guiding you through it. The only sound remained was the lewd, squishing sound of his cock entering you again and again. He took him a few pumps before he filled you full of him.

- "hhhhaaa fuck baby, I'm bringing you to my hotel room. I can't leave you like that."

hiii, it's been a while! I hope you enjoyed this story. it was supposed to be a drabble, as usual, it's a failure 🤷🏻‍♀️

Feel free to give feedback and comments (constructive ones only!) 💕

I have to be honest, im not a big mood to write rn but I felt I needed to post this one. please be nice if you find typos or grammatical mistakes, english isn't my first language.

[flamingtouya]

𝐜𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 — 𝐝𝐚𝐛𝐢/𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐲𝐚

word count: 1262

cw: none other than dabi's foul language

summary: dabi encounters a cat. i continue to spoon-feed this man happiness. based on this prompt by the lovely @scarlettcryptid ♡

Before he knows it, a quiet ‘Pss-pss-pss’ leaves his lips.

He tries it all.

Clicking his tongue, saying - whispering - “Here, stupid fucking kitty”, because god forbid someone hears. Slowly putting his hand out, some more ‘Pss-pss’-ing - anything that had worked on the neighbours’ cats when Fuyumi did it.

Here he sits; Todoroki Touya, a man stripped of all dignity at the sight of a fat cat.

The concrete is cold underneath his palm. Dabi welcomes April’s spring breeze, a strand of jet black hair tickling his cheek as he pulls the strings of his hoodie tighter. The dewy scent of the morning air is overtaken by the intense smell of steaming hot Yakitori, fresh off the grill, bought - not stolen - bought with his own, hard-earned cash money. (That, admittedly, he had stolen.)

You’ve got to indulge, the vendor had shouted, in the little pleasures! Treat yourself to life's delectable delights! Two plus two, Weekday special! Don’t miss out on-

“Screw you,” he’d told her, shoving the money on the little silver tray next to the register, scowling when she still served him with a bright smile, one that reminded him of Fuyumi’s excited grin every time she’d successfully pulled off a trick on her beautifully painted Kendama. Fuyumi would be so upset, he thinks, if she knew where he gets his food from these days.

He pulls the first skewer from the paper box, diligently inspecting a grain of Szechuan pepper. Dabi hasn’t laid eyes upon a spice in months - especially not one this pricey.

No, ever since he’s made a temporary home in the outer area of the city, it’s been nothing but dumpster diving and collecting restaurant leftovers for him. Stale bread. Expired cookies. Plain rice, cooked in an old bean can. Salted butter. Some Chili powder on top of his potatoes, if the old man at the soup kitchen was feeling generous.

Compared to the barely digestible nutrients his body runs on, the sight mere inches from his face is a divine gift.

After turning it over once more he finally takes a small bite, careful to pull the piece of chicken off the skewer with his front teeth. He’s become even more sensitive to temperature lately, and his teeth are the most annoying aspect. Not the sizzling of his flesh when he overuses his quirk, not the burn behind his eyes as they go dry. Those he’s gotten used to rather quickly. But when most of the food you eat is either cold or poorly reheated, the sensation of something hot is bound to cause major discomfort.

It’s not as bad as he expects. Neither the temperature sensitivity nor the taste. He begins to chew more boldly, savouring the harmonious balance between onion and garlic, sea salt and pepper, topped with tare sauce and just a hint of lemon. Say about the outskirt markets what you will, but those street food vendors do know how to grill a chicken.

Dabi doesn’t notice how quiet it’s gotten until something chirps behind him.

A cat.

A rather well-fed cat.

A cat that technically isn’t overweight, but its thick fur coat still makes it look a little fat.

Black with a white tummy and some spots of orange near its paws, sitting two arms’ lengths away. Its eyes follow the skewer as he moves it to one side, then the other, then dangles it upside down. Some grease drips onto the grass of the porch he’s sitting on. He finishes the remaining pieces of chicken and pulls out the second skewer, eyes shifting between his precious meal and the overly attentive cat.

Finally, he decides to pinch off a small piece, chewing at the spiced crust until it’s gone. He tosses the plain chicken towards the cat but to his surprise, it flinches and retreats behind a large flower pot.

The little fucker.

Wasted half a bite of perfectly good food.

Dabi turns his attention back towards his steaming Yakitori. Some time passes. He doesn’t know if it’s seconds or minutes that he zones out looking at the flowering apricot tree in the distance, but he’s pulled back to reality by soft chewing noises. Careful not to make another sudden movement he shifts a bit, just enough to look over his shoulder. Sure enough, the feline is greedily nibbling at the slice of meat. The two of them make brief eye contact before turning their attention back to their respective meals.

The sound behind him subsides shortly after and is replaced by a soft purring, one that he knows isn’t directed at him. He lets the cat have another piece from his third skewer nonetheless, this time giving it a gentle toss so it lands a few inches closer.

Still visibly tense, it takes a few steps forward and sniffs at the chicken before gulping it down in a few bites. Greedy shit, Dabi thinks, as he sacrifices yet another precious piece. He puts it down at his side, rubbing his fingers together. The cat’s attention is on the meat immediately, ears twitching as it courageously inches closer towards Dabi. He finishes the last of his Yakitori, never breaking eye contact with the cowardly little furball next to him.

Before he knows it, a quiet ‘Pss-pss-pss’ leaves his lips.

He tries it all.

Clicking his tongue, saying - whispering - “Here, stupid fucking kitty”, because god forbid someone hears. Slowly putting his hand out, some more ‘Pss-pss’-ing - anything that had worked on the neighbours’ cats when Fuyumi did it.

Here he sits; Todoroki Touya, a man stripped of all dignity at the sight of a fat cat.

After a thorough standoff, the cat’s curiosity gets the better of it. It keeps its stomach low as it sneaks across the ground, stretching its long neck to sniff at the finger that Dabi used to pull the Yakitori off the skewer earlier.

“If you bite me, I’m sending you to the coat factory.”

As if that theory was being tested, Dabi feels a sudden nip at his fingers. Cursing, he pulls back slightly, only to see the mischievous fucker’s pupils go wider. He wipes the bits of chicken grease off in the dewy grass and offers his palm again, checking both sides of the street to make sure nobody’s looking.

As if to taunt him, the little furball pounces and takes a swipe at Dabi’s hand before he can turn his attention back to the porch. It chatters in surprise when the man pulls away just in time.

Fucker, as Dabi decides to dub this newfound enemy of his, darts toward his other hand where he’s drawing lazy patterns on the concrete. With its claws half out and its tail puffed up, it races toward the wall, around the flower pot and jumps back onto the lawn to take another playful swing at Dabi’s limbs. Minutes later, he’s got the little menace chasing his fingers in circles, losing balance here and there and rolling over ever so often.

He’s focused, eagerly following the cat’s every move, trying to predict its attacks by the flick of its tail, an ear twitch, pupils that narrow ever so slightly before it leaps forward.

He’ll never admit it. That for once, there’s a sudden lack of grief in his heart.

Only when the first ray of sunshine hits the outer edge of the garden does he let himself fall backwards. The cat is but a purring weight on his thigh, stretching its paws across his lap with the softest ‘Meow’. Eyes closed and arms stretched out, he inhales slowly and holds his breath until he feels his pulse slow down. Dabi doesn’t care that his hair is getting a little wet, doesn’t care that the grass tickling his ears stings a little, doesn’t care that he’ll probably have red marks on his hands for a while.

If he shuts his eyes hard enough, he might still be able to convince himself that Touya is dead.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

It was only supposed to be a one night stand (part 4, Option YES)

Tw: sexual mentions

damn was hoping u guys would choose no so i could like show off his more yandere aspects but i have enough braincells to only choose one path, anwyasyys ejoyy

Part 3, part 5

You can't believe you're considering it, but you definitely gave him hope. He grinned from ear to ear when you said that you're going to see what you could do. As someone living in a big city, commitment is like the boogeyman to you. Or maybe it's something you also yearn for, but the hookup culture around you makes it near impossible.

Montgomery seems... okay. You don't know how you're going to fare from being a workaholic single and freely fucking strangers from dating apps, to becoming a committed partner to a country bumpkin.

You thought about it and you definitely felt bad. You used him for his money even though he didn't have a lot in the first place, you used him for his body and his time. Yet he's not your boyfriend, he was still under the "friend with benefits" umbrella. Maybe he deserved the promotion, he was nothing but loving and kind to you.

He thanked you profusely and promised ad nauseum that you're going to be loved and have a good time.

You didn't want to eat any more of the soup. It's cold and congealed, you stood up and walked away. He frantically asked where you were going.

You said that you're tired and you didn't want any more of the soup. He offered to reheat it for you, but you didn't respond and retired to your bedroom.

It felt surreal to him and you. Over the following days, Montgomery stayed over at your place. He felt like he was in bliss because after years of hurting his back by sleeping in his cramped car, he gets to sleep in a comfortable bed for a longer period of time. He could stretch and not hit his hand against the roof.

You couldn't believe that you're practically letting him move in. You could be minding your own business and doing chores, and he would come from behind to hug and kiss you. He probably knew that you secretly liked it because your shoves and shouts no longer deter him. He would pick you up and twirl you around at the most random times.

It makes sense his cooking skills are close to none, he's been living in his car for a while now and his mother does the cooking at home. So his tastebuds are accustomed to the chock-full takeout of sodium, oil, and sugar. You tried being nice and cooked him a meal, which he appreciated a lot and finished. But when you're not looking, he would use up to a bottle of hot sauce a meal. You also wondered why your salt and sugar stores were depleting rapidly.

The one thing that confused you is that his presence is rarely felt in the bathroom. At least in the living room, kitchen, and bedroom, he has his own personal belongings strewn around. But not the bathroom aside from his toothbrush and toothpaste. You thought he used your soaps, but it wasn't running out as fast as you expected.

Until one day, you caught him entering the shower with a bottle of dishwashing detergent in his hand. You said nothing and waited to see what he would do.

Once he was done, he returned the liquid soap to the kitchen. Is that why his hair felt like broom bristles? It... does make sense, though. Dish soap can remove the toughest stains and it's cost efficient too especially with his occupation as a construction worker. But it's still bizarre to witness.

Though he can't cook to save his life, he makes the best sweet tea you ever tasted, even though you felt like it would give you diabetes induced gangrene for every sip you take. There is always a pitcher full of it in your fridge.

He drives you to work every single day, pecking you on the forehead goodbye and telling you that he's going to come by for lunch. You're not necessarily spending all your breaks with him though, but now you're considerate enough to tell him if you're going to be with your coworkers.

He would be sulkier and clingier than usual if you went out without him.

You wondered what he did for fun. Observing him wasn't giving you the information you wanted, because as soon as he comes back from a long day of work, he would collapse onto the sofa and doze off- that is if you're both not fucking each other.

He rarely takes days off because he needed the money to keep sustaining his takeout-fuelled lifestyle. Montgomery needs cash more than ever now because he has another mouth to feed, even though you rather cook your groceries instead.

Perhaps he doesn't understand. He said that you must be exhausted from working, cooking will only make your fatigue worse. You think he's forgetting you're working a desk job, not something that requires the calories in a bucket of double deep fried chicken.

"You work so hard everyday." He had a concerned look on his face when you shook your head at the pizza box. "You should rest instead of cooking. I have dinner covered."

He also covers lunch. And breakfast.

Breakfast is usually hotdogs or whatever food stalls are open nearby. Since he has access to your fridge and freezer, you note that he would eat the leftovers or stuff that you rejected. It seems like he reheated it before bringing it to work.

You're slowly accepting him into your life. Sometimes you would pack lunch for him and it never fails to make him kneel in front of you and kiss your knuckles. At least you know that he's grateful no matter how over the top his displays of appreciation were.

He may be messy at times, but he's a good man. He takes out the trash, he wash the dishes and he sweeps the floor. So you could forgive the occasional pair of paint-soiled pants lying on the floor. Unfortunately, your water and electric bills went up because he had to use your washing machine quite frequently. You complained to him about it, and he apologized and insisted on paying your utility bills from now on.

It was weird... to say the least when he spent a week beating himself up for being 'ungentlemanly'. When pressed what he meant by that, he said he felt embarrassed that you're providing for him, while it should be the other way round. So to give his manly pride back, he's also paying for your, student loans, mortgage, and groceries. And other miscellaneous subscriptions that weren't there before meeting him.

The weight of the expenses is visibly wearing him thin. But he keeps going, earning as much as he can to spoil you. More times than you can count, you had to console him because he was comparing himself to rich men in sports cars who could afford to pamper their partners with luxury. He kept thinking that he was this lowly cretin that couldn't even muster the funds to buy you a chic car. Completely dismissing the fact that his paycheck each week solely goes to your personal expenses and none to his savings. Sometimes borrowing fifty bucks from his coworkers just to get you a bouquet of roses that you may or may not have thrown into your compost bin.

You never asked for these costly, but romantic gestures. But he insisted, claiming it was a boyfriend's duty; even seemingly suffering from mental breakdowns if he didn't do them.

It confused you, did this all start because you told him off for using the washer too much? It's not like you blew up at him, you just told him to be mindful of his habits.

Then one day, when both of you had days off, he brought you to the mall to shop. He told you to get whatever you wanted, no price was too high for him. Except, you know at least two-thirds of the goods you eyed at was going to bring him to bankruptcy.

While looking at something from a window, you saw in your reflection, Montgomery watching something.

Shifting your eyes, you spotted him staring at a man carrying shopping bags upon shopping bags for his girlfriend. Then he brought his attention to a couple buying an expensive jewel-crusted necklace in a nearby store. There was a man who gave his husband a credit card, which he then happily pranced into the nearest smartphone store. A woman came out of a salon with fresh acrylic nails, they had intricate designs on it. Must have been pricy, but a man was the one who paid for her appointment, the woman then hooked her arm around an older gentleman's; pecking him on the cheek as they walked away.

He locked his eyes on a man with the most beautiful, long jet-black hair. Dressed head to toe in classy clothes, clacks from his heels reached Montgomery's ears as he walked past him. Not once sparing a glance at your boyfriend, deeming him too insignificant. The stranger adjusted the straps of his very obviously luxury bag on his shoulder. The man clearly extrudes wealth and elegance.

You saw Montgomery's shoulder sag, realizing that his shirt and chore jacket were old and relatively tattered, ruined by old stains. He brought his hands to his rough stubble and sun-spotted skin, he is nothing like the normal inhabitants here. He crossed hugged his arms and hunched his back, attempting to shrink himself.

At first, you didn't get what was he looking and reacting at, because you're used to the scene. Then you realized, he had probably never seen such things occur in his small hometown, he must have noticed it even more since you and he officially became a pair. Making him horribly insecure about his financial standing, he must have felt incredibly left out by the community in the city. Hence the crippling loneliness.

You wonder if you should say anything.

[mega-catmuncher]

None of Our Business

Chapter 02: "The Fallout"

Pairing: College!Matt Murdock x fem!reader

Summary: You are a winner. Always have been and always will be. In your final year at Colombia you're aiming to earn an internship from an esteemed law firm which will ensure the success of your career post law school. Someone however, is making life difficult and his name is Matt Murdock. For some reason he's always in your business, everywhere you turn he's there and while you never expected it maybe he's just what you need.

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, angst (Future SMUT I still promise 🤞🏻😮‍💨)

a/n: Thank you to everyone who showed support on the first chapter, this is my first time writing fanfic so any feedback in the comments would be MUCH appreciated. Also if any Tumblr writers could give me tips I would be incredibly grateful :)

Also sorry for taking centuries on a second chapter. Life can be a lot busier than I realized lol.

(keeping the corny summary💀)

Night Two

Living with Matt for over 48 hours has made you appreciate the life you have. Every morning that Matt wakes up you feel the need to do things for him, but he beats you to it. You try and make a coffee but when you get up a hot mug is already waiting for you on the bedside table. Laundry basket empty, apartment cleaned and grocery shopping done it’s like the man moves without you even noticing. Tonight though you felt the need to show Matt some gratitude and cooking the both of you dinner seemed like a good idea. Until at approximately six thirty, you were tripping over pots and pans, sauce splattered all over your jeans and half the stove covered in flames from the chicken you've somehow burned. This is a disaster. 

“Shit” you hissed, and just as Matt walks through the door you freeze and suddenly you get hit with a wave of emotion. Matt has done so much for you and this is how you repay him. You start to cry in defeat while Matt rushes to turn the fire alarm off and get the pan of burning chicken under control. After the kitchen situation has died down Matt sits down next to you on the kitchen floor and rubs your back as you sob. 

“ You know... I could have sworn I turned the stove off before I left the house,” Matt said with a sly smile on his face. You begin to laugh through the snot and tears. “I just wanted to do something, you do everything here and I need to make you understand how much I really appreciate what you're doing for me”. Matt takes a deep breath “ I asked you to stay with me because for once you need someone to do things for you. Since we've known each other you've been working at that bar and those customers know you because you work hard. You never miss a class and every time you show up more prepared than the professors. On top of all of that, you've managed to aim higher than any of us for a future in law. A little laundry and dinner are for me to worry about, not you”. This is not the first time you've thought about kissing Matt. 

The first time you ever thought about kissing Matt was the first time you met. It was at the freshman fair and your friends signed you up for kissing booth duty apprehensively you agreed since any money made would go to the school lunch fund. Thankfully the wet t-shirt contest was getting more attention than the kissing booth but your friend Jenna wanted to introduce you to someone. You rolled your eyes as she approached you with a stranger at her side since she's always trying to set you up with guys even she doesn't even know. “Y/N this is Matt! He's a law student too what a coincidence huh?! I have to refill the punch but I'll be back”. The first 10 minutes were pretty awkward until you and Matt started passionately debating law theory. Those last few minutes between the debate dying out and the fair getting shut down after administrators noticed the faint smell of vodka coming from the massive punch coolers, you kept looking between Matt’s eyes through his glasses and his lips. You regretted not kissing him that night when you returned to your dorm, but over the years you appreciated his friendship more than just a possible one-night stand.

Back to present day you and Matt clean up the mess and decide the safest thing for Matt's apartment would be to order some Chinese. You switch into pyjamas and Matt goes to put on the news but you ask if you can watch a movie instead tonight and for the first time in a long time, you remember what it's like to be alone with a boy watching a movie. You get up to put away the trash while Matt finds something to put on which ends up being some 80s action movie you've never seen and won't care about after tonight. You make an excuse to get closer to Matt by asking him to share the blanket and as the movie gets more uninteresting for you, Matt is surprisingly super into it. You start to feel bad about the little plan you've formulated to distract him he's an innocent guy trying to help you out and you're thinking about him hot and bothered like some perv. Until out of nowhere Matt kisses you.

It feels out of character for the both of you sat on Matt’s couch making out and yet you don’t care at all. When things start to get heated and you adjust your body to get on top of Matt, his phone starts ringing. The amazing fucking timing of Foggy to call, Matt doesn’t want to pick up but the phone just keeps ringing he thinks something might be wrong. “I’ll just be two seconds, see what he wants”. While Matts on the phone with Foggy it gives you time to think about what you’re doing and you quickly make a mental pros and cons list of hooking up with Matt.

Pro: he's a good cook, con: sometimes he wakes you up by singing loudly

Pro: he cares about you, con: he snores

Pro: He’s passionate about a career in law, con: you’re passionate about a career in law

In your mind the final pro and con weighs the heaviest in this mental debate you’re having with yourself. You slowly get up from the couch and look around for some shoes and a jacket while Matt has his back turned. Before Matt hangs up the phone you’re out the door, you needed some air to really think and calm down. This whole situation has distracted you from your biggest goal in life and sexual satisfaction aside you don’t want to risk your friendship with not only Matt but Foggy as well. You can’t imagine how awkward work would be if Foggy knew you and Matt hooked up. It’s all just too much for you to put on your plate and you come to the conclusion that going back to your dorm is better for the both of you.

You’re circling your way back to Matts apartment when you see Chris across the street, he’s in his pyjamas with a pizza box in hand. You’re favourite in fact, Amaretto’s. “Hey stranger, where are you headed to ?” Chris has this haziness to his voice as if he’s just been smoking. “I’m just out for a walk I needed some air”. An awkward pause follows and you look down at the house slippers you put on in your haste to leave Matts apartment. “Can I ask you something?, are you and Matt..together?" Chris hesitates to look at you for an answer but you're stumped for what to say. "Its none of my business I'm sorry, its just I've seen you come out of his place and-" you interrupt Chris to explain "We're not together Chris, Matt's just helping me out with school. I needed a break from all the cue cards taped on my wall". Although you don't hear it Chris lets out a small sigh of relief. "Thats good to know because I was wondering if you wanted to go to the campus movie night next Friday ". What the fuck, you definitely were not expecting that and this is honestly the last thing you need right now.

In one night you've been put in a Matt and Chris sandwich which in any other case would've been a dream for you but in this moment you're at a loss for words. Realizing you're taking too long to answer you just come out with it "Yeah I would like to do that". Chris's smile makes you feel warm but then he kisses you on the cheek and you even feel even warmer. He offers to walk you back to Matts place which seeing how dark its gotten you accept.

Matts heart drops hearing the front door open and the look on his face makes you want to throw up. He looks worried, sad and even a little angry? "I have been losing my mind Y/N, where have you been?!". You couldn't decide what would be better, tell the truth or lie out of your ass and hope he believes it. But no matter what you do you're going to feel like shit. "Matt, I'm sorry but I needed to think about things, I needed to think of what would happen if we went any further and well I don't know if it would have been a good idea for us to go further than a kiss".

Matts face drops hearing you say this, he goes to sit on the couch and he's been quiet for so long you're feeling worse and worse by the second. "Matt I'm sorry but we need to think about this I mean what about school? and Foggy and-" you find yourself losing your train of thought and feel that it would be better for you to be silent for a moment. Regret washes over you completely when Matt completely explodes " What does Foggy or school have to do with this situation? I care about Foggy and school and a lot of other things in my life and yet none of that stopped me from wanting to get closer to you tonight. Im not saying you owe me anything at all but to walk away and decide that you don't want to do this because of other people and school it feels like you're making excuses Y/N".

You start sweating and can't will yourself to think of the words to say. You begin to feel tears build up and you want to let it all out but you don't want Matt to see you any more vulnerable than he already has tonight. "I'm sorry Matt but I can't let anything distract me from college I shouldn't have taken advantage of you, I appreciate what you've done for me but I cant stay here I need to go back to my dorm".

You're waiting to hear Matt stop you, yell at you. Anything to stop you but he doesn't. He sits in silence as you grab some of the things you brought over and as you're walking out it becomes clear to you that you've made a massive mistake.

[germhammy]

(Mis)Adventures of Little Wednesday-aka Wednesday’s mirror image niece

“Bake sale”

GomezJr and Little Wednesday were excited for the school bake sale!

GomezJr: Hi, Auntie Eenie! Look how much fudge I sold!! I’m going to share my money with Wends

Enid: why? Isn’t she selling cookies? Where is Little Wednesday?

GomezJr: under the table

Wednesday joined her wife

Wednesday: where is mi Diablo? - she could here her niece crying under the table. She crawled under to join her

Little Wednesday: Auntie Weenie! - giving her aunt a big hug- where is Papa?

Wednesday: trying to win the two of you some prizes. Why are you under the table?

Little Wednesday: Dayton and Aiyon came to my table and took some of my cookies for a taste. They complained to the principal that I put onions in them and that I was trying to poison everyone. The principal made me throw them all away. I saved some for Mama, Papa and you and Auntie Eenie. Now I won’t be able to have enough money for the field trip. GJ says he share his money but it won’t be enough for both of us.

Wednesday: do not worry, Wednesday. The fundraiser is only to help parents with the expenses and for you to have fun. We have enough money to send both you and GJ on the field trip.

Little Wednesday crying: this is not fun. I did nothing wrong!

Wednesday held her niece for a while under the table before coaxing her out. Little Wednesday growled at the parent standing at the table buying her brother’s fudge.

Enid: Wednesday, it’s not nice to growl at people

Wednesday looked at GomezJr’s customer. She too growled

Wednesday: still haven’t tamed you demon spawn and his friend I see. I should give you an invoice for all the ingredients, time and expected sales from my niece’s cookies

Enid was confused

Dalton: what kind of child makes onion cookies? Oh nevermind. She’s your niece. I feel sorry for your brother to have such a rotten sister. Do you treat him as badly as you treated me? Or your wife?

Wednesday took took one of the bags Little Wednesday saved for them.

Wednesday: first of all my brother could and still can take the torture I dish out. Unlike you. Second leave my wife out of this. The way I treat Enid is none of your business and she’s different. Before you make any assumptions about the cookies I helped my niece bake? Why not try them! - hands Dalton the bag

Little Wednesday: but now there isn’t enough for you, Auntie Weenie

Wednesday: there is plenty at home - turning to Dalton- my niece shares my love for onions. Together we have experimented with many things

Dalton: these are good. Thanks for the cookies

Wednesday fumed.

Little Wednesday: next time I’m adding arsenic to my lunch. Let’s see what happens when Dayton and Aiyon try to steal it

Wednesday: El Diablo, while I think that’s a wonderful idea? How about we add the Apollo pepper hot sauce to the ranch dressing for your chicken sandwich and veggies?

Little Wednesday: oh and no milk that day! Just water, okay?

Enid: Nessie! What am I going to do with you?

Wednesday kissed her wife lovingly

[kyberphilosopher]

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish. 

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views. 

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that. 

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in. 

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss. 

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid. 

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you. 

There it is. 

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm. 

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence. 

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here. 

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had. 

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection. 

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you. 

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming. 

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite. 

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing. 

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.” 

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway. 

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames. 

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute. 

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using. 

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him. 

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this. 

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light. 

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often. 

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier. 

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way. 

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge. 

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket. 

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin. 

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still. 

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds. 

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist. 

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him. 

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder. 

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat. 

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren. 

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips. 

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise. 

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have. 

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be. 

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips. 

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time. 

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story. 

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.  

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick. 

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure. 

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him. 

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric. 

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense. 

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him. 

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum. 

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly. 

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over. 

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you. 

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience. 

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back. 

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years. 

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this. 

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs. 

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably. 

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly. 

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him. 

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally. 

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes. 

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him. 

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

[buckybarnesdiaries]

sick headcanon

© @buckypupbarnes

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

word count: 827 words.

warnings/tags: none. just bucky being overattentive and loving.

author notes: i'm having a cold these days and i'd love to have bucky rn just like that. life isn't fair. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

At the moment Bucky found you wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, his happy smile for being back at home suddenly disappeared and the concern got installed inside his chest.

He occupied the other side of the sofa, cupping your heated cheeks onto his palms to press his forehead against yours. That was how his mother used to check his temperature when he was sick. And you were on fire, figuratively.

Since then, he didn’t let you do anything more than rest. A n y t h i n g.

Bucky ensured you were comfy enough on the sofa, before placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I’ll be back in a bit. Call me if you feel worse".

He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he should go to buy some things to spoil you properly. One day, New York’s cold weather was going to kill you.

Your boyfriend not only bought some meds to treat your stuffy nose and sore throat, but he also bought the ingredients necessary to prepare a hot soup for dinner, with chicken, vegetables, and rice. A classic that Winnifred prepared for her children, mostly, at Christmas. A recipe he hadn’t forgotten. Not even after all those years.

Bucky came back as soon as the people in the supermarket let him, after some desperate minutes watching an old lady counting penny by penny to pay her groceries.

He left the bags in the kitchen, taking the nasal inhaler along with a painkiller and a glass of water.

You couldn’t help but pout at him. James was treating you with so much care that you thought you could break in one thousand pieces at any moment.

“Take the med and use it. ‘M going to run a bath, okay?” You nodded receiving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Bucky carried you from the sofa to the bathroom in his arms, helping you later to undress yourself and get in the tub. The warm water felt like resurrecting when it covered your anatomy to your shoulders. He urged you to rest your head against the edge, placing slowly a wet cloth on your forehead.

It was funny because Bucky looked like he was trying to deactivate a bomb.

“Gimme five minutes”. He whispered into your ear with the sweetest tone of voice he had ever used with you.

Were you… going to die?

Letting you in a quiet calm inside the bathroom, he walked out to the kitchen. It took him only five minutes to chop the vegetables and to shred the chicken, adding it to the water boiling with the rice. Over medium heat, he forgot about the soup for the next twenty minutes it needed to be cooked.

He couldn’t help but stare at you a couple of seconds from the door of the bathroom, feeling a little guilty because of your flu. He was your personal stove on the cold nights but the last mission took him a minute more than expected.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to strip himself, caressing tenderly your shoulder to make you sit up and give him some space behind you.

Adjusting himself to you, he laid his thumbs on the back of your neck. You didn’t know where he learned to give massages, but he was an expert. And the contrast of his flesh hand and the vibranium’s one was indescribably pleasant.

A purr escaped your lips unconsciously, causing Bucky to chuckle while running his palms down by your back, adding some more pressure.

This man was a God’s gift.

When you felt somewhat better, he stepped out of the bath before you to find you some comfy clothes to wear. His clothes, impregnated in his scent. And after brushing and drying your hair, Bucky carried you back to the sofa and wrapped you in a cozy blanket.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but think about how someone could be afraid of him, despite what those monsters forced him to do. He was nothing but such a kind and loyal man, a little quiet and who used to push you out of your nerves with that staring thing of his.

But a good man at the end of the day.

Your boyfriend brought two big bowls of soup that smelled delicious, putting them on the coffee table to look for an old movie on TV to watch, while having that magnificent dinner.

“My mother used to say it can raise the dead”.

“What is it you’re hinting at, uh?” You replied playfully.

Your good mood made Bucky curve his mouth into a smile, staring at his blue eyes sparkling again. He knew all of that would work sooner or later.

“Thank you”. You murmured wrinkling your nose, as he leaned to kiss your forehead a little cooler. Which was a good sign that the fever was decreasing.

“Would do anything for you, babydoll, y’know it... right?”

“I do, Buck. I’d do it too”. You sighed in love, with heart-eyes, opening your arms and stretching the blanket to hug him under it.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

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[myherowritings]

Borrowed Sweaters, Stolen Kisses

— In a game of Truth or Dare, you’re dared to sneak into your crush’s dorm and steal one article of clothing to wear the next day. It just so happens that the hoodie you snatched was Shinsou’s favorite sweater.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x reader word count: 2,204 genre: fluff, aged up au (class 3a) warnings: 16+, suggestive content

a/n: this used to be a harry potter fic i wrote on my hp account but i rewrote it for shinsou bc it just seemed fitting fhgjdhsfg. shinsou is in class 1a in this fic or 3a since they’re aged up and at least 18 years old u.u i hope y’all enjoy!! xx 

“No way.” You shook your head, kicking your legs out in front of you as you ignored Hagakure’s poking and prodding.

It was a relatively relaxed Friday night, and you and your friends decided to spend it in your dorm with a bottle of whisky and a game of Truth or Dare. The truths ranged from anything to, “Fuck, marry, kill: Sero, Kirishima, Kaminari” to, “Who was the last person you sent a nude to?” And the dares weren’t any better. Ashido practically vomiting in the corner served as a great reminder of that.

You were just grateful the dares you received were rather mundane. 

That was, until now.

“Y/N, you have to do it!” said Hagakure.

“Can’t I just forfeit this round and take a shot?”

“Nope, that’s only allowed for truths,” she quipped. 

You glanced over at Jirou, a pleading look on your face, but you were met with a nonchalant shrug. 

“Rules are rules,” Jirou sang, taking a swig of whisky before passing you the handle.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Mina’s fierce glare caused your words to die in your throat.

“If I had to chug that hot sauce concoction you guys made and then eat the mystery sushi until I felt sick, you can go to Shinsou’s room and steal a hoodie or something-- Sounds like a cakewalk compared to my dare.”

As she leaned her back against the bed, hand over her stomach as beads of sweat trailing down her forehead, you figured Mina was right. You’ve been in his dorm plenty of times before, anyway-- You two were friends and, at times, you supposed you enjoyed his company. What was the worst that could happen?

“You’re right.”

“I know.” 

Rolling your eyes, you stood up and slipped some fuzzy socks on, ignoring the cheers coming from your tipsy roommates. When you reached the door, your friends watching fervently as you wandered off to your ill-fated trek, you paused at the handle. 

You looked back at them, heaving a sigh. “If his dorm turns out to be booby trapped and I get caught, just know I will haunt you from the grave after I die of embarrassment.” 

“We expect nothing less,” was Tsuyu’s smart reply. 

Soon enough, you found yourself climbing up the boys’ side of Heights Alliance, feeling like you were doing a reverse walk of shame. It was a quarter past three o’clock in the morning and the odds of any of them being awake were slim to none, but that didn’t stop the butterflies from fluttering in your stomach. 

You made your way to the front of Shinsou’s dorm room and cautiously placed your hand on the door handle. With a small grumble you fished the key card Hagakure stole from Hitoshi earlier (which made you wonder just how long your friends were planning this whole escapade out…) out of the pocket of your sweatpants. 

For the most part, it looked just like your dormitory. Only neater. His desk was fairly organized and, aside from balls of yarn and different sizes of knitting needles, was clear enough to work on. Scarves and hoodies were piled onto the back of the chair and foot of the bed--which meant your dare should be easy enough to complete--and a dim light was left twinkling.

Everything seemed cozy and lived in. Normal.

Except for the fact that Shinsou Hitoshi was not in his bed. 

“What on earth?” you murmured under your breath, finding it a bit strange the room was completely empty at this hour. But knowing him, you reckoned he was out training at any hour he could--something that worried you about him--or playing with a cat off campus grounds. It wasn’t unlikely. 

Still, with your feet planted at the foot of his dormitory, you wanted to get out of there before you were caught. Because you knew there was no way in hell for your drunken ass to smooth talk your way out of this mess if he were to find you.

Your hand hovered over the article of clothing nearest to you, which was a sweater draped over the back of a chair, and you took a deep breath, saying, “It’s just a dare. You can do it.” 

Before you lost all your nerve, you snatched the jumper with one hand and slipped out of the dorm. As you rushed down the stairs, you could’ve sworn you heard some shuffling coming from the empty room. But you didn’t care.

Part one of your dare was successfully completed.

Now for the hard part: Wearing it around the next day.

- - - - -

“How do I look?” 

You posed in front of your roommate, trying not to laugh at how the borrowed jumper engulfed your frame. Walking down the center of your dorm, you gave a little twirl.

“Sexy,” Mina teased from her spot on her bed. “Shinsou’s sweater looks nice on you.” 

Sticking your tongue out at her, you made a face. “I’m not sure what you mean. It’s pretty gross to me. I would never want to wear any of Shinsou’s clothes.”

“Then why did you put the hood over your head and bury your face in the collar?” 

Slowly, you peered up at her with your view obstructed by the fabric. You sniffled haughtily, trying to ignore the soothing aroma of lavender and smoked wood that filled your sense. 

Mina smirked, catching the small sigh of contentment that left your mouth as you basked in the scent of Shinsou’s hoodie. “Gross, huh?” 

“Mention this to no one,” you mumbled with a nonthreatening glare, pulling the hood off your head and folding your fabric-covered hands over your chest.

Laughing, she tossed you your bookbag from across as she waited by the door, the rest of your friends back in their own rooms to get ready for class. “Come on, lovebug. You can see him during math in a few minutes.”

“I won’t be looking forward to it.”

You grumbled protests as the both of you made your way down the stairs of Heights Alliance and toward the main campus of U.A. High, but Ashido paid them no mind. Soon enough, you reached the room and spotted Jirou and Hagakure in their usual seats. 

“Hey,” you quickly whispered, sliding into the seat next to Tooru before Ectoplasm sauntered over to the front of the class.

“Nice jumper,” she said simply, voice going an octave higher in amusement. “I knew you’d go through with it.” 

Reminded of your rather bold choice of clothing (that was horribly out of dress code), you subconsciously tugged at the sleeves. You sent a quick plead to the gods above that you didn’t look as foolish as you thought you did. 

While Ectoplasm introduced antiderivatives and indefinite integrals to the class, Hagakure nudged you on the side, sliding you a ripped piece of her parchment paper.

You looked at her curiously as Mina peered over your shoulder to catch sight of the writing.

DO NOT LOOK NOW!!! But I’m 100% certain Shinsou has been staring at you since the start of math class.

Of course, the first thing both you and Ashido did after reading the note was turn your heads at the same time towards the back of the class where Hitoshi and his friends were sitting. And, as your luck would have had it, you made directly eye contact with an amused-looking Shinsou.

Both you and Mina turned around to face the front so fast you were sure at least one of you received whiplash. 

Wide-eyed and flushed, you exchanged glances with her, both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

“I told you not to look,” Hagakure whispered, a small giggle escaping from her lips, sending you three into fits of laughter you tried to muffle with your hands. 

Behind you, someone cleared their throat, causing the three of you to straighten up in an instant. 

“Something amusing you, ladies?” 

“No, sir,” you quipped.

“Sorry, Ectoplasm-sensei,” remarked Tooru.

“We’ll shut up now,” promised Mina.

With a stern look on his face but a slight tilt of his smile, Ectoplasm nodded and returned to his lesson. “I trust you three will be experts of the integral calculus by the next lesson and I won’t have to catch you making doe eyes at a certain someone?”

Though he asked all three of you the question, his gaze was pointed at you and the class knew it. Your cheeks heated up as slouched into your chair. Perhaps if you tried hard enough, you could turn into the seat. 

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled, ignoring the stifled laughter from Ashido and an apologetic, but amused, look from Hagakure. 

And as he continued the lesson, you could’ve sworn you felt a certain pair of eyes on the back of your head until the end of it.

When class finally concluded and Ectoplasm dismissed the lot of you, you rushed out of the classroom as fast as you could.

But not fast enough.

“Nice sweater, Y/N,” you heard a deep voice call, stopping you in your footsteps. “Looks familiar.”

You swallowed, slowly turning around to face Shinsou--lazy smirk and all. There was nothing you wanted to do more than dash back to your dormitory and hide, but instead you straightened your spine and braved a look of nonchalance.

“Does it now?”

“Yeah,” he said with an amused look in his eyes. “I’d have to say it does.”

Peering up through your lashed, you looked at him with faux innocence. “I can’t say I know why.”

Slowly, he walked closer towards you as you moved back against the wall. He took the excess fabric of your sleeve into his hands, stroking them between his fingers.

“You know-- It even feels familiar.” He smiled thoughtfully. “Just like my sweater I happened to lose last night.”

By now, the halls had begun to clear up, the traitors you called friends having left you with a thumbs up right as Shinsou approached you. 

You coughed as you repeated, “I wonder why.”

He was so close you could catch a whiff of his lavender and woodsy scent.

“If you wanted my clothes on you, Y/N, you could’ve just asked.”

You pointedly eyed the way he was toying with the hem of your--or rather, his--sweater, lifting it slightly. “Well, if you wanted my clothes off this badly, you could’ve just asked.” 

Shinsou raised his eyebrows in surprise at your suggestion, hand frozen on the fabric. The intensity of his gaze melted your steely disposition, embarrassment creeping up to your neck.

“I’m only kidding,” you murmured, refusing to be the one to break eye contact.

“That’s a shame, then.”

You blinked. “What?”

He shook his head. “Nothing.” 

Biting the inside of your lip, you toyed with the bottom of your sweater.

“That’s my favorite jumper, you know?” mused Shinsou, looking fondly at the U.A. hoodie. “Aizawa got it for me when I entered the hero course.” 

A horrified look crossed your face. You stole his favorite sweater that Eraserhead gifted him himself? Good going. 

“Oh, shit,” you swore, reaching for the hem of the hoodie. “I’m sorry, Shinsou! I didn’t know.”

Chuckling, Shinsou placed his hand on top yours to stop you from removing it. “No-- You can keep it on.” You paused. “I’d say I quite like how it looks on you.”

Your heart skipped a beat when his hand that was still on your ran down the length of your fingers. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you interlaced them with his own, causing him to send a shocked but pleased look your way. You smiled.

He ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip, gently drawing you closer to him. “If I were to kiss you right now, would you be upset?”

You shook your head, leaning into his touch. “Upset is the last thing I’d be.”

“Well, then I suppose--”

“What are the two of you doing?” you heard Aizawa exclaim as he rounded the corner, catching sight of the two of you against the hallway. He pulled Shinsou away from you by the collar, your cheeks flooding with embarrassment. 

Shinsou, however, looked unperturbed.

“Sorry, Aizawa-sensei,” he said sincerely, “but what I was about to do just then-- I’ve wanted to do that for a while now.”

He chuckled at the shocked look on your face, giving you a wink as Aizawa released his shirt. Shinsou made his way back over to you across the hall.

“How cute you looked in my sweater was only the catalyst,” said Shinsou before placing both hands on either side of your hips, pulling you towards him in a brief but deep kiss.

“Shinsou! Y/L/N!”

“Sorry, sir.” This time, Shinsou didn’t sound so sincere as he ignored the appalled look on Aizawa’s face. “I just couldn’t wait until we got to the dorms to do that. Don’t worry though, Y/N-- I swear there will be far better kisses that’ll take place there as well.”

And though the two of you may have been sentenced to detention and cleaning duty for the next three weekends, you would have to say the kiss was definitely worth it.

[hypmic-writings]

Hey! I just discovered your tumblr and I love it so I'm happy that the requests are open! ♡ Can I ask for Saburo, Hifumi and Jyushi with s/o spending a lazy day home together please :3 Thank you very much

━━ ∘◦ ☆ ◦∘ ━━

Pairing: Saburo Yamada x reader; Hifumi Izanami x reader; Jyushi Aimono x reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

A/N: This was absolutely adorable! All three of them definitely deserve a lazy day, and I think it would be so fun to just hang around relaxing and chilling with them! Hope you enjoy~

⋘ ──── ∗ ⋅◈⋅ ∗ ──── ⋙

Saburo Yamada

Saburo rarely has a lazy day, preferring to keep himself busy with all sorts of projects and ideas

so when Jiro and Ichiro are both out of the house on a gloomy, rainy Saturday, you find that it’s actually a perfect excuse to make Saburo take a bit of a break with you

although he might protest a bit at first, wanting to be more productive it’s really not that hard to convince him to have a lazy day

just pout and give him puppy dog eyes and you’ll have him in the palm of your hand in no time at all

lazy days with Saburo mainly consist of lazing around either in his room or on the couch and watching movies and cooking together

you spend a good amount of time just flipping through all of the streaming services trying to pick the perfect movie that both of you want to watch

I can definitely imagines Saburo wanting to watch a documentary or some kind of serious drama

but that’s just too heavy for a lazy day like this

“Saburoooo I don’t want to watch a movie about a the evolution of refrigerators, it’s way too boring!”

“Well I don’t want to watch a mindless action film with nothing but explosions in it! That’s even more boring”

so you finally both decide to watch a lame comedy that you can both make fun of for being so bad

Saburo doesn’t usually cook, leaving most of that up to Ichiro and you don’t really cook much either leaving that to your siblings or parents

so this is the perfect time to experiment in the kitchen

the two of you try to make ramen, expecting it to be simple, but quickly finding out that chopping and cutting things isn’t as easy as your parents and siblings make it out to be

and neither of you has any idea of the amounts of sauce or accoutrements to use so you just shrug and put in a ‘dash’ of everything

it’s safe to say that the food doesn’t end up tasting the best, and you end up eating mostly snacks anyways

Saburo definitely only keeps healthy snacks around and you’re quick to tell him that you want the bad, greasy, good snacks

so the two of you sneak into Jiro’s room and raid his drawers until you find his stash of good candy and snacks

and you definitely peer pressure Saburo into eating them with you while you watch the movie together

and then the two of you just lay on the couch together, talking and laughing and making jokes 

and you make him throw popcorn into your mouth until you get it

Saburo might actually fall asleep on the couch while watching the movie with you, especially if you had your cooking expedition before laying down on the couch

and your just smile and cozy up too before falling asleep alongside him and the lazy day ends up being perfect

Hifumi Izanami

it’s rare for Hifumi to have a day off on the weekend since he’s one of the most popular gigolos in Shinjuku 

so when he finally takes some time off, the first thing he wants you to do is take time off so that you can both relax together

he’s going to want to order in food and he’ll make sure to buy you your favorite meal so that both of you can eat together and be happy

Hifumi loves spending time with you and the fact that it’s going to be a lazy day with the two of you just makes it all the more fun

he’ll ask you all about your week and he’ll genuinely just want to catch up with you and spend time alone with you

a chill day with Hifumi is also spent doing some TLC by taking a nice hot bubble bath together and then laying in bed drinking champagne until you both pass out

Hifumi’s quick to change into his robe, wanting to be extra comfortable as he runs the bubble bath for the two of you

he definitely has an entire drawer in the bathroom just filled with all kinds of bath bombs, bubble bath soap, bath salts, and all kinds of soaps

you help him all the while, picking the music and lighting candles, and the two of you just talk and laugh the whole time

you definitely both do face masks and peel cucumbers to put over your eyes while you’re soaking

and when you’re finally relaxing in the tub, it’s both of you laying on opposite ends of the bathtub, head leaned back and bubbles up to your neck 

every now and then you nudge each other playfully to check and make sure you’re both still awake

“Y/N, don’t fall asleep! I know the sweet smells of rose and lavender are making you groggy but you have to power through and stay awake!”

“Fumi...are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?”

once you’re nice and pruned from the bath, you both change back into fluffy robes and practically jump onto the bed

he’ll want to watch a movie with you, and his favorite things to watch are romantic comedies, so he’s going to bring out some fancy chocolates and pour you both a tall glass of champagne 

so that the two of you can snuggle together and watch his favorite movie

he’s definitely going to cry at the more emotional parts of the movie, even if he’s seen it before a thousand times 

but you’ll still let him bury his face into your shoulder and cry, hugging you tightly and saying that it’s such a beautiful moment

while you pat his head and nod in agreement, holding back laughter at how adorable your boyfriend is

afterwards, Hifumi will have pretty much run out of all his energy and will want nothing more than to have a small cuddle session with you before getting ready for bed

Jyushi Aimono

Jyushi usually has a pretty rigid performance schedule for his VKei band, and in between practice and fan meets, and then including all of his hypnosis mic training, he rarely has time to take days off

it’s hard enough for the two of you to find time to go out on a date or even spend time together

so when it happens to be one of the coldest days on record for Japan and everything gets cancelled, you’re overjoyed that you don’t have to work either 

and you and Jyushi get to spend the whole day together doing absolutely nothing except being lazy together

at first, Jyushi’s a little nervous and has lots of unused energy because he feels like he should be doing something for his word or for BAT

but once you reassure him that he can take it easy and relax a little bit, Jyushi’s definitely going to cry tears of happiness

saying that he’s been so busy lately and that he’s sorry he hasn’t treated you as well as you deserve to be treated

but of course, you just kiss his cheek and pull him into your lap, stroking his hair and telling him that you’re just happy you get to spend a lazy day off with him  

the two of you forgo cooking, instead making a frozen pizza that you found in the bottom of your freezer because you both deserve a cheat day

and Jyushi declares that he’s going to lay on the couch the whole day and never get up

so the two of you scour the house to find the most comfortable pillows and the coziest blankets to sprawl out on the couch, making it almost like a nest before you snuggle into it

of course, as soon as you move to get up and do much of anything, Jyushi’s whining for you to come back soon

so you can’t leave his side for very long, but that’s okay because you’re most comfortable when you’re lying with him on the couch anyways

the two of you decide to watch a movie, and I headcanon that Jyushi loves to re-watch all of the old Disney classics

he loves watching the Princesses sing their songs and he definitely relates to how they’re ostracized but then they find love and happiness and are able to be their true selves

regardless of what you watch, Jyushi will cry at some point of the movie, so you’ll either need a tissue box, or be prepared for your shirt to be ruined

he likes to lay his head onto your lap when relaxing on the couch as well, and he’s going to spend most of the day nuzzling up to you, not wanting to spend even a moment without you

even after the movie, the two of you will stay laying warm and cozy on the couch, watching funny videos or just talking with each other

and maybe you’ll even take a bit of a nap together just because you can

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[wandanatfluff]

"I love you"

One shot Fluff (and a little bit angst I guess)

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader

Summary: Reader and Wanda are good friends. Reader is in love with Wanda and tells Wanda, but even though Wanda loves Y/n, she tells her that they can’t be together.

Warnings: none

Word count: 3.8 K

A/n: So this is my first fanfiction!!! I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you guys enjoy reading it :-)! Wanda is in italics.

Steve, Tony, Bruce, Nat, and Clint were currently in a debriefing of the most recent mission at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and that leaves you and Wanda alone in the Avengers Tower.

You open the door of the freezer and grab the chocolate ice cream that you bought earlier this week. It is four a.m. and you are in the kitchen in a pair of soft shorts and a t-shirt. After closing the freezer and grabbing two spoons, you turn off the lights in the kitchen and walk down the hall to room 208. With the ice creams and spoons in one hand you stand still in front of the room. You hear can hear someone sobbing on the other side of the door quietly before you knock. The person in the room quickly wipes away their tears and clears their throat before opening the door.

“Hey?” Wanda speaks with a hoarse voice.

“Hey. It’s me.” You say.

“I brought you ice cream.” And you show her the ice cream. A small, but sad smile appears on her face and she lets you in. She gestures to the bed and you take place on the colorful covers. She sits down next to you and turns on the tv. She puts on a sitcom and you hand her a spoon.

“Do you want to talk about him?”

“Uh… not really.”

“That’s okay.”

Wanda nods her head and tears fill her eyes again as she softly begins to cry. You put away the ice cream that was standing in between the two of you so you can move closer to Wanda. You lay one hand on her shoulder, silently asking for permission to hold her in your arms. Wanda’s body relaxes under your touch and you carefully pull her into a hug. You lay her head on your chest, one arm wrapped around her warm body. Your other hand on the side of her head, softly stroking her hair.

It’s later in the evening and you are in your room, reading a book in the chair next to the window. You flip the page and you are just about to start your next chapter when Wanda knocks on your open door. You put your finger between the pages and you close your book, looking up at Wanda, making sure she knows she has your full attention. Wanda is standing in the door opening, fidgeting with her fingers, like she always does. It’s the most adorable thing.

“I uhm, was going to start dinner. The rest should be here in an hour or so. I could use some help in the kitchen.”

“I mean, you don’t have to… I can do it alone, but just if you, you know, want to.” A shy smile appears on her face and her cheeks turn soft pink as she looks down at her hands.

You smile at her flood of words and tell her that you would love to help her cook. You pick up your bookmark, put it between the pages and lay your book on the side table. You get up from your chair and walk to the kitchen.

“What do you want to make?” You ask Wanda. “I don’t know, I was thinking maybe pasta?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Let me just change my shirt, I’d prefer not to spill red sauce on my new top.” You say and smile. You go to your room and replace your light blue tank top for a short red t-shirt to go on top of your dark blue jeans.

Once you made your way back to the kitchen, Wanda has already started to gather the right ingredients, while mumbling in half English, half Sokovian.

“Chicken… tomatoes… paprika.”

You grin and let out a small chuckle at the way she pronounces paprika. She looks up at you and your eyes interlock.

She looks so good in that red shirt. It’s impossible not look at her. The short red shirt shows a bit of her tanned body and your eyes are immediately drawn to her perfect skin. Your eyes make their way up to hers and they suck you in. You suddenly realize that you are staring and quickly look the other way as you continue with what you were doing. Your cheeks turning the color of the tomatoes.

It was just for a brief moment, but you could have sworn Wanda stared at you. It was probably just your imagination, but it was what you needed to take the first step.

Wanda had already cut the zucchini and was just washing the paprika when you softly touch her wet hands and lay the paprika next to the sink.

A pleasant shiver goes through your body as your hands touch.

You hold each of her hands in yours, so that she faces you. She is looking down at the floor and you let go of one hand to gently touch her jawline, guiding her eyes into yours. You look into her beautiful green eyes as you grab her hand once again.

“Wanda-” You start. Your heart is beating so loud, that you’re afraid she can hear it, your skin on fire and a lump starts to form in your throat as your lips form the words.

“I love you.”

You said it. You finally said, what you were trying to tell her for months now.

I love you, she said it. Your worst fear had come true. Don’t get it wrong, this was exactly what you wanted, but at the same time it was what you feared. You feared your feelings for her. You loved laying in her arms and being around her, without having to talk about anything, without having to tell her how you feel. But it all changed, because she said the three words, that you couldn’t say. The words that would change everything between the two of you. You knew that she expected a response. Y/n obviously wanted to know how you felt and all you wanted to do was tell her you loved her too, but you couldn’t, so instead you said:

“I know right, how could you not.” And you fake-grinned.

You bit your tongue as soon as the words left your mouth. She had just handed you her heart and you made a joke about it. A joke. Literally the worst thing you could do… and the last thing you wanted to do.

You could see y/n’s demeanor change. You caught a glimpse of pain in the e/c of her eyes.

She continued.

“I don’t know if you get what I’m trying to tell you, Wanda, but I love you. I like, love you.”

Of course you knew what she meant, you were just playing dumb and all that because you couldn’t deal with you own feelings. You played it dumb and you hated yourself for it.

“I’m sorry, y/n.”

“You don’t feel the same.” She said and she looked down before meeting your eyes again.

You could now clearly see the hurt in her eyes. Before you met y/n, e/c eyes were just e/c, but her eyes are the warmest eyes you have ever seen. They are soft and ever-comforting. Whenever you would cry, you would find comfort in them. Whenever she was sad it broke your heart. And your heart did break, seeing her like this. The fact that you caused it made you feel even worse.

“I, I’m sorry Y/n. I love you too, but not like that.”

You loved her, but you couldn’t be with her. You had forbidden yourself to fall in love with her.

“I get it.”

Y/n let go of your hands and turned around to open a drawer to get a cutting board. She grabbed the mushrooms and started to slice them.

Everything inside you was hurting, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces. You didn’t blame Wanda for feeling like that, though. You understood it. You yourself had come to terms with your feelings a while ago. You loved her and you knew you could never love anyone as much as you loved Wanda, you wanted to be with her. Even though Wanda did not reciprocate your feelings, you were still happy you told her about yours. At least you can now live without constantly wondering if she felt the same about you.

After the two of you finish preparing dinner, you put on your coat.

“Don’t wait for me for dinner. You guys can start without me.”

You leave the compound, stepping into the cold air. You get into your car and drive as far from the compound as possible. You try to hold back your tears as you reach the edge of Central Park. You step out of your car and with your hands in your pockets you enter the park. The wind stings in your eyes and you finally let out the tears. You walk around the entire park while tears stream down your face. After two hours of crying, you numbly walk back to your car. You sit in your car for a moment, your eyes thick and red. Even your nose turned red under the cold outside. You take a detour back to the compound and arrive at around 2 a.m., you lock your car and open the door of the building. The warmth of the air inside hugs you as you walk to the kitchen. You see that Wanda left you a plate with pasta on the counter and you put it in the microwave. Five minutes go bye as you stare at the clock counting down. You grab your hot plate and almost burn your fingers. You sit down on the couch and turn on a random tv show, while eating your pasta.

After you finish your pasta, you fall asleep on the couch.

*** You wake up by Natasha’s voice. She is standing next to the couch.

“Hey y/n, wake up sleepyhead.”

You grumble some noises and shift on the couch. “I heard you come in last night, it was quite late. Are you okay?” Natasha asks you with a slight worry in her voice.

Anyone could have slept on the couch, that didn’t mean anything was off. Natasha knew better, though. Where the rest may have thought you drank too much and had a hangover, Natasha knew better. You never drink. Your brother was involved in a car accident with a drunk driver and he didn’t survive. Therefore, you didn’t drink any alcohol. Natasha and Wanda were the only people that knew about the accident.

You yawn before slowly opening your eyes, but the second you do, you remember everything that happened last night. Your eyes fill with tears as you start to cry and Natasha pulls you into a hug, sitting next to you on the couch.

“Shh, let it all out darling, I’m here.” Natasha comforts you. You cry and your salt tears stain her shirt. When you’re done crying Natasha lets go of you and gets you a glass of water. You take a few sips.

“Where’s the rest?” You ask her with a hoarse voice. “Fury called them in for a mission. We have the compound to ourselves for the next few days.”

You nod your head and to be honest you’re happy that you don’t have to see Wanda for a while, because you’re not sure if you would be able to keep it dry. You slowly sit up straight and take a few deep breaths, before standing up and walking to your room. You open the door and see a framed photo on your bed. It is a picture of you and Wanda at a funfair. You had put ice cream on the tip of Wanda’s and were just about to clean it with your thumb when the picture was taken. You had never seen this picture before, so you assume Wanda must have had it all this time and after last night she decided to give it to you. There was a little note next to the picture.

We keep this love in a photograph We made these memories for ourselves Where our eyes are never closing Hearts are never broken And time's forever frozen, still

So you can keep me Inside the pocket of your ripped jeans Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

- Ed Sheeran

I wanted you to have this.

Wanda

Your stomach twisted as you read the words. You let the picture slip out your hand and rushed to the bathroom. Kneeling down next to the toilet you throw up. Nat heard you and immediately rushed to you. She stood behind you, holding your hair up and softly humming a Russian song. When you emptied your stomach, Natasha got your glass of water. As Natasha left the bathroom, you sat down leaning your back against the wall. You pulled up your knees and with your hands in your hair, you closed your eyes. You felt like crying, but there were no more tears left to cry, you were exhausted. When Natasha came back, she ordered you’d take a shower and then go to bed. You followed her orders and snuggled into your blankets. You were cold, even though your blankets were thick, you probably had a fever. Great. You eventually fell asleep and woke up a few hours later, when Nat came to check on you.

“Hey y/n. How are you feeling?” She sat down on the edge of your bed with two pills in her hand. You took the pills with a sip of water and sighed.

“Better, thanks. The sleep served me well.”

“I was thinking about watching a movie, wanna join me?”

“Yeah, sure.” You got out of your bed, put on your robe and put on a pair of fluffy socks. You walked to the couch, where Natasha was waiting for you with a blanket on her lap. You sat down next to her, laying your head on her lap as she put the blanket over you. You looked up at her, cracking a smile. She smiled back and started the movie.

*** A few days had passed and you were feeling a lot better already. Well, physically. Your mental health was still a mess and you would often burst out into tears, while doing the simplest things like taking out the trash. Today was a good day though. You were able to think about Wanda without breaking down. You were walking on the grass around the compound, taking in the silence. Natasha was out doing groceries, so you had the entire compound for yourself. You decided to take advantage of the situation and went back in to find the piano in the corner of the common room. You sat down on the piano stool and let your fingers rest on the keys. You played a few songs and sang along. After a few minutes you were so lost in the music, that you didn’t hear her enter the room. The song you played was about her and you pretended you were singing the song to her. If only she could hear you…

While the rest was still outside, discussing the mission, you entered the compound. It was a tough mission, especially with all the things that were going through your head, your conversation with y/n playing over and over again. You had already gone inside, headed for your room, so you could give your tired body a shower and change into some clean clothes. You are halfway down the hallway when you hear music coming from the common room. Curious, you open the doors.

There she is, Y/n, playing the piano while singing along. Her hair tucked behind her ear. Slightly flowing on her back as she presses the piano keys. Her eyes closed as her clear voice echoes through the room. The music is soft to your ears until you listen to what she’s singing.

You recognize the song, Y/n would occasionally hum the song with a sad smile on her face. Sometimes she would even let a tear stroll down her cheek. Now that you heard the lyrics that belonged to the tune, you finally understood the sadness in her smile.

I can’t stop these silent tears from rolling down

You and I both have to hide on the outside

Where I can’t be yours and you can’t be mine

But I know this, we got a love that is hopeless

Why can’t I hold you in the street

Why can’t I kiss you on the dance floor

I wish that it could be like that

Why can’t it be like that

…

Cause I’m yours

And you would always be.

You knew Wanda couldn’t be with you, but it didn’t stop you from hoping. Hoping and dreaming of a future with her.

What you didn’t know was that Wanda felt the exact same, that she was in the same room as you, hearing every word that left your lips. She took in every word like they were hers.

Why can’t I say that I’m in love

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

Tears formed in Wanda’s eyes and she wiped them away. She stormed out of the room, sight blurry as she undressed, stepped in the shower and tried to wash off her feelings. The hot water burned on her skin, but she figured she deserved it. She broke your heart, simply because she couldn’t confess to herself that her crush was a girl. A girl.

Tears streamed down her cheeks, merging with the water coming from the showerhead.

And then it hit her. She didn’t just like any girl. She liked you and you weren’t just someone she could stop herself from falling in love with. She could no longer deny her feelings about you. No. She loved you and all she wanted was to be with you. She missed the warm hugs you would welcome her with after another exhausting mission. The soft kisses you would leave on her cheeks. The ice cream you would keep in the freezer for whenever she missed her brother. The sitcoms you would watch with her in silence. She had to be with you.

Wanda quickly finished showering and put on some shorts with a red hoodie on top, matching her copper locks. Her wet hair unbrushed, bound together in a low messy bun. She took a quick look in the mirror, her cheeks slightly red from the warmth, caused by the nerves she felt. What if she had ruined her chance on you? What if you didn’t want her anymore? She figured there was only one way to find out and she went to your room. You weren’t in your room, so she went to the main living room. You weren’t behind the piano anymore. Instead, you were now in the kitchen, talking to the rest, laughing. You looked gorgeous. Wanda honestly didn’t think nor care about the company. She couldn’t stop herself…

You were talking to Steve when the redhead in the corner of your eye caught your attention. She was just as pretty as usual in her simple shorts and hoodie. So pretty that it hurts. You guided your attention back to your conversation with Steve when you felt a hand on your lower arm. Wanda pulled you away from Steve and took you to the living room. She pulled you into a shadowed nook and pressed you against the wall. You looked into her emerald eyes wondering what was going on, but just when you were about to ask her, you felt soft lips touching yours. Your breath caught in the back of your throat as you were completely starstruck. What was she doing? Wanda didn’t like you… right? You shoved aside your doubts, you just wanted to feel her. Enjoy the moment for as long as it would last. You cupped Wanda’s face with your hands and pulled her into another kiss, this time a more intimate one. Wanda’s soft lips clashed with yours as you warmed up inside. Wanda put one hand in your neck and another around your waist, pulling you closer. This was all she ever wanted, it felt so right. Wanda opened her mouth for you and you slipped your tong into her mouth, your tongs slowly moving around each other in perfect harmony.

You gently pulled back, slightly out of breath.

“Wow, I thought you didn’t like me?” You quietly said, not wanting the others to overhear you.

“I never didn’t like you. I just wasn’t ready to admit it to myself, but I am now. I love you and I never want to lose you. I was a fool to deny it. I’m sorry. I hope you can forgive me.” And she looked down to the floor.

A tear strolled down her check and you gently wiped it away with your thumb, your hand resting on her cheek.

“Wanda, honey. There’s nothing to forgive.”

Her eyes went up to search yours and you pulled Wanda into a soft kiss, reassuring her that there was nothing to worry about. You had never stopped loving her.

And you couldn’t imagine that you would ever.

Songs: Photograph - Ed Sheeran

Secret Love Song - Little mix

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now." 

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly. 

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!” 

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation. 

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered. 

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.  

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

[greeksorceress]

the elephant in the room

the outsiders, drabble.

characters: ponyboy curtis, darry curtis, two-bit mathews (mentioned), sodapop curtis (mentioned).

warnings: nothing is explicit here, but they’re dealing with war, the death of a family member, and grieving.

Wednesday, 8th October 1969.

As I step inside the warmth of our home, I have only two things on my mind: mom’s finest dinnerware set on top of the table and the lack of Two-Bit’s presence. 

“Darry?” I ask, and I know he’s heard me because the noise coming from inside the kitchen pauses. I don’t know what to do, because this isn’t what I wanted to come home to, not by a long shot. So, I state the obvious, for starters. “Darry, ‘m home.”

Darry’s head peeks from behind the kitchen’s wall and he gestures towards the table. “Sit, I’m almost done here. How was the studyin’ session?”

My eyes sweep over the table’s arrangement and the three empty chairs. Darry’s cooking smells nice, but my stomach clenches painfully as if closing down when I realize what’s inside the oven. When I finally get enough courage to look back at Darry, he’s not here anymore. He has gone back to the kitchen, and it should be pathetic of me to be so relieved about this, but right in this moment, I need as much time as I can get and this feels like getting a head start. I’ll take it.

“It was fine. Uh, sorry for being late. We were discussing this formula and got carried away. Missed my bus...” I trail off as I take off my gloves and my scarf.

My mind is swirling with ideas and none of them convince me fully. I could turn my back to all of this and open the door, run back to the cold street and hope that by the time I come back home everything will be solved by its own. Then I remember, I’m not fourteen anymore. 

So, I stay. I purse my lips and take my sweet time folding my scarf properly to leave it on top of the sofa by the door. Then, I do the same with my coat, and it doesn’t make my day any better but it feels kind of grounding, I guess. 

“Don’t worry,” Darry’s voice sounds closer than I expected and it makes me startle. “You’re just in time.” 

Darry’s setting the food —I was right about the smell— on the table, and he’s not even looking at me. I don’t push it, not today, because I don’t want this charade to break into a million little pieces. I simply take my seat by the table and start pouring the water from the jug to my glass. I even open Darry’s beer for him.

It seems that missing my bus on purpose and waiting by the stop for an hour and a half by my lonesome ass hasn’t worked as I had hoped for. I don’t know why I still get surprised when my plans don’t come out as I want. I was supposed to come home right on time to see Two-Bit and Darry finishing dinner by themselves and getting my way out of this by pretending to be too cold to function. Running to my room and locking myself there feels too cruel now that Darry is alone and the silverware is on the table. 

Darry goes to the kitchen to get some sauce and then sits down too. We start eating right away. The food is still hot, steam comes from inside the baked potatoes when I cut them, but we dive into it anyways. 

“Where’s Two? Thought he left work early on Wednesdays.” I go for casual, as if I hadn’t checked the calendar to make sure Two-Bit was going to be here before leaving for class. Darry is nice enough to pretend I achieved the tone I was looking for. 

“Not today. He’s busy,” Darry’s fork scraps against the porcelain of his plate and the noise makes us both jump. “Said somethin’ about his sister, me thinks.” 

I grunt to acknowledge his response. My tongue burns after I harshly bite into a steamed piece of red pepper. I’m scrambling to say something else but the words seem to be stuck, and for a second I’m scared that I’m actually choking on the chicken roasted in a very specific way that has never been Darry’s favorite. It’s never been mine, either.

I should’ve known that Darry would tell Two-Bit to get lost today. Two-Bit would’ve made a couple of jokes by now, he would’ve diverted Darry’s attention and energy towards himself, and it would’ve been so much easier to pretend. Instead, Darry and I don’t even dare to look away from our plates, scared that we would immediately notice the empty chair between us. 

The rest of the dinner is just as awkward and painful, we eat in silence when we can deal with it and then throw trivial and unimportant questions at each other when it becomes too much. I learn about Darry’s coworker and how bad he messed up this one project, and in turn, Darry learns about the teacher that spits when he talks that has all of us fighting for the last rows.

I’m almost letting myself get into a false pretense of normalcy when I see Darry standing up abruptly. I stand up too, assuming we’re about to take the dishes back to the kitchen, but he halts me to a stop with just one look. It’s not even a mean look, he’s not glaring and his face is not showing any sign of anger. It’s the sadness shinning in his irises what makes me stay still.

“No worries, I’m just...” he points towards the kitchen and goes there, as if he had just explained everything to me. 

I busy myself by playing with my napkin, trying to keep my fidgeting fingers busy, so I don’t actually notice when he comes back. By the time I realize he’s put something else on the table it’s too late to school my face into neutrality. 

There’s a chocolate cake right in front of us. No, there’s a birthday chocolate cake right in front of us, with the candles and all, and I look at it as if I had been personally brutalized by its layers. 

“Are we celebratin’ somethin’ now?” The words feel like pointy knives slicing through the tissue and inner muscles of my throat. 

Darry takes his lighter from the pocket of his shirt and lightens all the candles with practiced patience. I want to scream, but I think this time the chicken I ate might actually come all the way up if I dare to open my mouth in protest.

So, instead, I do nothing. I wait for the candles to be lit and then, we sing. There’s nobody to look at, nobody to sing happy birthday to and congratulate on this day. I look at the candles instead, and I see the flames dancing to the rhythm of our voices. 

When the song ends and we cut three pieces and I finally get to dig my fork into mine, there’s already enough bile pooling under my tongue to notice the sweetness of the dessert and my stomach is too upset to take it.

It’s the first time we sing happy birthday to Soda and he isn’t there to blow the candles. 

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

geraskier: Geralt is a hardcore gamer, like fully ranked and all that shit, Jaskier is a sweet baby who tries his best to be involved in Geralt's (very few and far between) interests. Cue Geralt following Jaskier around protecting him from being killed while Jaskier just plants flowers and pets the animals and admires the scenery of the game, basically doing all the useless things. *gaming part doesnt need to be detailed, i know nothing about gaming but someone told me they did this and i cried*

this has been sitting in my inbox for over a month I'm so sorry nonie! i just wanted to have the right vibes???? i hope you like it! 

i also know just the very basics about gaming so this is vague af lol

Warnings: none. well, swearing. but yall should expect that from me lol

________________

“Hey fuckers! Today we’re finally doing it. You bitched and moaned enough for-” Geralt paused and squinted at the chatbox on his live stream as he adjusted his headset, “No not that. I don’t get paid enough for that,” he teased, earning a ‘but if you did?????’ in the chat which he professionally ignored, “No, today I finally got my boyfriend to play with me!”

Jaskier leaned down over the back of Geralt’s chair and wrapped his arms around his chest, giving the camera a little wave, “I don’t know why you want to see this. I can’t even run in Halo. I’m terrible.”

Geralt twisted his neck to smile up at him, “It’s because you’re so cute.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes but blushed anyway, placing a kiss on Geralt’s forehead before walking around and plopping into his lap.

“Mkay we’ll start on easy, and you just follow me, okay?” Geralt asked, handing Jaskier his controller and shifting around so Jaskier was sitting with one leg over the armrest and Geralt’s arms were comfortably wrapped around his waist. 

“Oh is this the one with the gardening?” Jaskier squeaked as the title faded in with the, in his opinion, far too intense music. 

Geralt kissed his shoulder quickly, “Technically yes. You can grow what you need for potions.”

Schweatyballs264: stfu ur so fuckin cute

Mrs.ludgate: Yes darlin, gardening and muder.

Jaskier peeked over at the chat and giggled, “I leave murder up to muscles here.” he nodded to Geralt and his headset slipped off his ear, “Ah shit.”

“J it’s starting!” Geralt scolded as Jaskier set his controller down to fiddle with his headphones.

“Well protect me! I don’t know what I’m doing anyway!” he shrieked back. 

“Go left! No that’s right, dear.”

“Don’t use that tone with me!”

“What are you doing?! If you stop you’re going to get eaten!”

Jaskier snickered, “You said I could plant stuff! Oo, this one is pretty! I’ll put that on the hill over there.”

Geralt glanced at his boyfriend incredulously before guiding his character back to Jaskier’s, just in time to slash a swamp monster in half, “If you weren’t so sweet…” 

Jaskier did a little happy wiggle when the flower he was watering sprung up and bloomed with some golden sparkles. Geralt nearly missed the next swamp thing to come after them because he was too busy watching the way Jaskier’s tongue poked out between his lips while he focused. 

#1Lambchop: Eyes on the screen, hot shot. 

“Lambert what the fuck are you doing on my stream? Go back to work.” Geralt laughed, “That’s my brother, for the newbies.”

Jaskier perked up and waved at the camera, “Hi Lambert! I’m bringing tater tot casserole tomorrow, should I bring wine too?”

“Jask, what are you doing?” Geralt chuckled, moving his joystick for him to put him somewhere he could actually defend them.

Jaskier shrugged, “I was gonna text him anyway. This is just easier.” 

#1Lambchop: Good on booze. Bring that hot sauce tho

“Will do!” Jaskier chirped, “Oh fucking cock! Geralt!? How did I die?!” he turned to his boyfriend with the biggest puppy eyes to date. 

Geralt just gave him an exasperated stare. When Jaskier shook his head as if to say ‘well?’ he adjusted his boyfriend’s headset and smiled, “You weren’t paying attention, dingus.”

i8sl245knj4: for how sweet he is he’s got a mouth on him

Jaskier nodded, turning back to the screens with a determined look, “Okay I’m gonna try this time. I promise.” 

Geralt chuckled and shook his head, “Sure you are…” 

[yourmypenguin]

AKDJDHSHSJDBDGDJ I LOVE VIRGILS VIET OUTFIT ITS SO PRETTY!!!!!! Also your tags for that post got me thinking about a Vietnamese Cinderella story with prinxiety and Virgil gets to wear the pretty outfit you made him and I’m so excited to see romans outfit aaaaaaaaaaaaa

-blue

Thank you so much Blue!!! And because I'm excited, little story telling now. I'm just gonna tell you our own version of Cinderella because it's super fun and it haunts me ever since i heard it

(cw: long ass text, death, murder, violence mentions, animal death)

Basically Tấm is the Cinderella character, she's a poor orphan who lives with her stepmom and her stepsister Cám, and they abuse her by forcing labors on her. One day Stepmother tells the two girls to go fish at the ponds, whoever gets more fish will be prized with a red yếm (uh, an old kind of bralette, looks pretty). Tấm of course works her ass off but then Cám just tricks her so that she can steal all of her fishes, runs home and leaves Tấm to cry at the ponds. A Budha appears and instructs her to take the only single little gobie fish left inside her basket and keeps it as a pet fish in her home's well. He gives her a magical fish calling spell, she just gotta say it, the gobie would rise above the water, and eats the rice she feeds it. She has a cute little pet fishy, but Cám and Stepmother just can't stand Tấm being happy and kill the gobie for food. Tấm is sad again, so Budha appears and instructs her to bury the fish's bones into 4 clay pots, and bury them under her bed.

It's festival arc! Meaning Stepmother is an asshole and force Tấm to sort out the lentils stuff, so that she and her daughter can go to the festival. Budha is having none of that shit so he just appears and let his magical birds do that for Tấm, and now Tấm you can go dig up the pots under your bed, there you shall find, ooooh! Beautiful clothes to wear to the festival, and a pair of pretty shoes, and a horse too!!! Tấm reigns the horse and gets to the festival, but she drops her shoe into a pond on the way. The KING!!! Coincidentally passes by that same area later on and picks up the shoe and declare that whoever fits it would gets to be his wife. And the classic story goes as you might expect it, Tấm gets back her shoe, becomes the Queen, and Stepmother and Cám is pissed.

But holy shit it does not ends there. No. Tấm is too much of a good girl and returns happily to her abusive home to attend her father's death day anniversary, and climbs an areca palm to get the fruits for the altar. She does not doubt her stepmom at all when she sees her at the foot of the tree, chopping the shit out of it, and lets Tấm (and the tree) fall to her death (areca palms are really tall). Stepmom takes that opportunity to bring her daughter into the palace and just like, hey, your wife is dead, how bout her sister for a replacement? The king just fucking goes along with it. Cám lives her life in luxury, unknowing that her stepsister reincarnates as an oriole bird and meets with the king again. The king loves his birdie a lot and it sings to him, he asks it if its his wife then it should cuddle up into his sleeve, which it does. Cám is pissed, she kills the bird and bury its feathers in the palace's garden (these people have no problems killing animals lmao)

There in the place of the feathers grows two magnificent trees, and the king likes it so much he brings his cot there to lay. Fucking Cám can't get over her jealousy and cuts down the trees and makes a cloth weaver out of them. But the thing fucking curses at her when she tries to use it like the weaver just tells her that "don't you fucking rip my husband's clothes or I'll gouge your eyes out". Cám and stepmom burn the thing to the ground for good. Still, the spirit is resilient as hell as it follows the ashes of the burned weaver to a faraway land, and a tree grows where the ashes blew. The tree bears beautiful golden fruits (Diospyros decandra if you wanna know the specifics)

An old lady who sells beverages, passes by the tree, amazed by the golden fruits. One drops into her basket and she brings it home, let it lay around and heads off to the market, only to return home, and find... a girl?? A pretty young lady who's so polite and kind and offers to do her chores? Oh she'll take her as her daughter now. They live happily in their little house. One day, mr King appears again, passes by the old lady's shop and orders something. Noticing the placement of his food is familiar, the king asks old lady to let him meet the preparer of his meal. Old lady brings him to meet her daughter, who is, holy shit Tấm, his loving late wife holy shit you're still alive??? He takes her back to the palace after she says goodbye to her adopted mom. Cám and Stepmom is so fucking blown out of their brains.

You think it ends there? Oh no, Tấm is back and more powerful. She meets up with Cám, three times her murderer, and just tells her: Hey, you wanna know my secret beauty tips? Just go sit in a ditch and tell the servant to pour boiling water down onto you. Now I'm just gonna assume that Cám is spoiled into stupidity and does not know that when hot boiling water pours onto you, you fucking burn to death, and she does exactly that, no joke. And Tấm fucking takes her dead stepsister's body and makes her into fish sauce, and cooks it into a meal for Stepmom. Stepmom is at first "Hey, this meal is good? What's the secret ingredient?" and looks down into the fish sauce pot, and there she sees her own daughter's skull. Stepmother dies of a heart attack. End of story.