#bro I have no mouth and i must washing

[boyadjacent-pipe-dreams]

Swansea sexualizations I “made for a friend”

[lowkeyren]

—reject me not!

in which : when your sudden confession catches blade off guard, his response comes across as a rejection. though he realises his mistake, and tries his best to make things right. (...it gives the whole hq a headache)

slight humor, idiots in love, mutual pining, misunderstanding, you tease him w/o realizing (n he gets back at u hehe), reader is a stellaron hunter, stellaron hunters wingwomen!!!, art by @/kkuekkue on x. reblogs are appreciated! please enjoy <3

wc: 4.2k // hm secret santa? HOHOHO @mikashisus, rayray!! u might pull ur hair out at some parts idk :joy: happy reading n merry christmas my little elf xx

"i think i like you."

the words leave your mouth quicker than your brain can second-guess them. 

blade freezes mid-step, his back visibly stiffening. when he turns to face you, his sharp, cold eyes betray a fleeting glimmer of surprise, perhaps, or confusion —but it disappears as quickly as it came.

he stares at you, his eyes widening just slightly, the faintest crack in his carefully maintained composure.

but then, his lips part, and all he gives you is a single, flat response.

"i see."

two short, dismissive words. not a smile, not a frown —just two clipped words. you tilt your head, expecting some form of elaboration, but instead he just turns on his heel, his coat swishing behind him as he starts to walk away.

(what you don’t see is the way his hands curl into fists as he walks off, how his steps falter just around the corner, or the way he presses a hand against his chest to steady the sudden, overwhelming ache blooming there.)

…must this guy really be so blunt?!?!!

you sigh, a little laugh escaping despite your current situation. of all the possible responses you could’ve imagined, ‘i see’ definitely wasn’t one of them. you shake your head, a part of you wonders if elio is watching, silently laughing at your predicament right now.

it’s fine. really. you should’ve known better than to think he’d say anything different.

though the big problem now is, blade knows about your silly crush on him, so facing him in the future is going to be a total nightmare that you’re not ready to accept. you can already feel the embarrassment creeping up like it’s going to suffocate you.

“where's [name]?” 

blade steps into the base. silver wolf, tucked in the corner, engrossed in her console, raises a hand in greeting without looking up. blade nods in acknowledgment, before replying to kafka, "i went ahead of them," his voice sounds a little more strained than usual, before quickly turning to make a beeline for his room.

but kafka, ever perceptive, senses something’s off. she tilts her head with a smirk, "bladie, did something happen?"

he denies it with a quick shake of his head before slipping past her. having no other option, she resorts to… unconventional methods. 

with a flick of her wrist and a soft, almost melodic whisper, she purrs, "listen to me.”

the moment those familiar words hit his ears, a wave of calm washes over him, and against his will, he halts mid-step. "now tell me what happened, will you?"

he sighs and he rubs the back of his neck. “take your time, bladie.” after a long pause he speaks again, "[name] said they... they liked me."

kafka watches him closely, a grin slowly spreading across her face. "and then what happened, hmm?" she teases.

out of the corner of his eyes, he sees silver wolf perk up at his words, but he pays her no mind as his thoughts are too tangled in what he’s about to say next, the words barely scraping past his throat.

...

the next hour consists of him being ‘lectured’ by his fellow coworkers.

he tries to tune out the barrage of teasing, but something about  “bladie, that's not how you reciprocate,” to “ain’t no way bro fumbled that badly,” managed to stick with him, unfortunately. (he looks over to firefly standing to the side, but she only giggles and shakes her head at him.)

but really, how was he supposed to tell them that he panicked? that he was so stunned by your confession, so overwhelmed, that he could barely form a coherent sentence? that his awkward, dismissive reply wasn’t rejection, but a pathetic attempt to mask his own vulnerability?

the thought of you avoiding him, of thinking he doesn’t care, makes his chest ache with a pain he hadn't experienced for the past few centuries. 

blade makes a mental note to find you as soon as possible. he doesn’t know how to explain himself, not entirely; words have never been his strong suit, but somehow, some way, he’ll make it up to you.

later, you return to the base, your steps hesitant as you walk in. the moment you enter, the group falls silent, all eyes snapping to you. there’s an awkward stillness in the air, like they were caught in the middle of something. your gaze sweeps over the room, and it lands on blade. when you lock eyes with him, a flush creeps up your neck, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"excuse me!" you blurt out and almost sprint to your room.

...do they all know?! this has to be the most embarrassing day of your life.

you agreed to meet kafka at a bar near your current mission to discuss your next task. the magenta haired woman had mentioned it casually when you’d asked, cryptic as usual, only revealing that the task was important but leaving out certain key details —such as conveniently leaving out the part about blade being there too, of course.

(“bladie,” kafka’s voice took on a singsong lilt, her playful smile unmistakable as she glanced at him. “you’re going to use this chance to make it up to them, ‘kay?” 

blade only kept his eyes trained on the entrance, silently waiting for you to arrive.)

running late, your prior mission having dragged on longer than expected, you found yourself hurrying to the bar, weaving through the sparse but lingering foot traffic of the evening.

after what feels like hours, you finally make it to the bar. stepping in, your eyes scan the room for kafka, when suddenly, a man steps right into your path.

the man smiles warmly, though you could tell he’s had a few to drink tonight. his tone is friendly, with just a hint of flirtation as he strikes up a conversation, casually asking if you’d be interested in grabbing a drink sometime.

he’s polite, respectful even, and there’s nothing about him that feels overly forward or aggressive —just a man who’s trying his luck, that’s all. still, you can't help but feel a slight annoyance at the timing.

as you try to figure out a way to decline his invitation, you remain oblivious to blade’s gaze —specifically, how it's fixed on you, or rather, more pointedly on the back of the man’s neck.

“you’re going to snap his neck if you keep looking at him like that.” kafka’s voice cuts through the tension, her tone teasing as she watches the exchange from the side.

“i don’t like what he’s doing,” blade mutters, his voice low and filled with an edge that suggests far more than just mild annoyance.

kafka chuckles softly to herself, already knowing where this is headed. it’s not an outright confession of jealousy, of course —he would never admit to something as petty as that, and she knows better than to push him on this one. 

nevertheless, she still catches it, her lips curling into a knowing smile. even if blade would never call it jealousy, it’s enough to push him into doing something completely out of character —something he’ll never, ever do (until now).

kafka notices immediately. her eyes widen just a fraction before she sets down her wine glass with a graceful motion, amusement dancing in her eyes. and perhaps to make sure he doesn’t look too foolish, she decides to play along and help him act the part.

a sharp clang of glass hitting the table catches your attention. your brows knit in confusion; you glance over instinctively, your eyes meeting kafka's for a brief moment. her expression is unreadable, but the faint curve of her lips makes you wonder what’s really going on.

curiosity pulls your gaze lower, to the drunk figure slumped over at her table, seemingly drunk, his head resting heavily on his arm. the spilled drink pools on the floor beside him, glinting under the dim light. 

at first, you only catch a glimpse of dark, tousled hair, streaked faintly with deep crimson at the ends —so strikingly familiar it makes you pause. then, as your eyes trace over the sharp line of his jaw and the stiff set of his shoulders, realisation dawns on you. 

wait a second.

your jaw nearly drops as you piece it together. the man lying there, seemingly drunk out of his mind, is none other than the last person you would want to see right now.

blade.

your gaze darts between him and the polite man still standing awkwardly in front of you. blade, on the other hand, never lets his guard down, so this... state of his? unprecedented. 

apologetically, you offer a small smile to the man before rushing to blade’s side, urgency in every step as you push past the tables, heart hammering in your chest.

blade’s eyes subtly flicker over to you as you approach, and you can almost sense the slightest shift in his demeanor, the thought of you giving your time to someone else, especially someone so... ineffectual —grates at him.

he swallows the ugly feeling down his throat. perhaps he’s let this irked him more than it should. but it’s too late to back out now that you’re standing right beside him, the weight of your presence making the tension in his chest only more pronounced.

as if on cue, kafka’s voice breaks the silence, “as you can see, [name], our dear bladie here has gotten himself a bit... roughed up,” she says, casually catching the wine glass that had been teetering on the edge of the table.

her lips curl into a playful smile as she glances at blade, whose jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. “drinking doesn’t seem to suit him, wouldn’t you agree?” kafka continues, her tone light but unmistakably amused. her eyes flicker between the two of you, as if she’s thoroughly enjoying the situation unraveling before her far more than she should.

you blink, momentarily thrown off by the unexpected scene. your worry only deepens as you shift your attention back to blade, who remains uncharacteristically silent, his head now resting on his arm as though he really had overindulged. 

“blade,” you say softly, your voice carrying just the slightest edge of concern. “what happened?” 

before he can answer —or before he’s forced to lie —kafka chuckles, waving a hand as if to dismiss your worry. 

“oh, nothing serious. he just got a little too carried away with his drink.” she leans back in her chair, a sly glint in her eye that you’re too preoccupied to notice. your gaze falls back to blade, his hair slightly tousled.

without thinking, you reach out, gently brushing a strand strand from his forehead. his eyes flutter open at the contact —those striking, sharp eyes you’ve always found yourself drawn to, dark yet you can’t bring yourself to look away from. 

you notice the faint redness creeping across his cheeks and the line of his jaw, down to his neck. his skin hot to the touch under your fingers. “you’re warm,” you murmur softly, assuming the alcohol is to blame.

if only you knew the warmth searing through him has nothing to do with alcohol and everything to do with you. 

“ah,” kafka hums, pulling you out of your thoughts. “it seems something urgent has come up that needs my attention.” there’s an unmistakable glint of mischief in her eyes. “i’ll leave you two to it.”

you glance at her, startled. “wait, what about—?”

“don’t worry about it,” she interjects, already getting up from her seat. “the bill is already on my tab.” 

well, that wasn’t what you were about to ask anyway! 

a sly smile curls her lips, and she tilts her head ever so slightly. “hmm, it’s rare to see him like this. [name], you’ll take good care of him, won’t you?” her tone is light, but the underlying implication is clear, leaving you flustered as she turns on her heel, striding off, leaving the two of you alone.

blade leans heavily against you, his tall frame making it an awkward challenge to keep him upright as you guide him out of the bar. one arm is slung over your shoulder, while his other hangs haphazardly against his side.

his head is tilted forward, strands of his dark, crimson-tipped hair brushing against your cheek, and you can feel the warmth radiating from him —whether from his predicament or his proximity, you’re not sure.

you shift your grip, looping an arm around his waist for better support, and his body tenses slightly under your touch. for someone playing the part of drunk so convincingly, he’s strangely aware of your every movement, his hand tightening just faintly on your shoulder when you stumble over a crack in the pavement.

“blade,” you murmur under your breath, trying to shift his weight more evenly as you inch forward. “you’re not making this very easy, you know.”

casting a glance his way, you’re met with a low, almost lazy hum in response. his expression is nothing short of a hazy indifference, though you swear you catch a flicker of clarity in his eyes —a brief, focused intensity that seems out of place, before he looks away.

you can feel the heat of his breath against your temple as he wavers with every step. the night air is cool, but the warmth radiating from his body is undeniable, pressing against your side in a way that sends an unexpected shiver down your spine. the closeness between you feels almost intimate in a way that will surely have you screaming into your pillow later that night. 

as you continue down the empty street, blade’s mind races; this is his chance. he knows it. he should say something now, anything, to make it clear —to tell you how he feels. (and how it’s been eating at him for longer than he cares to admit.)

this is it, the moment he’s been waiting for, but all he can do is breathe in the scent of your skin and the warmth of your touch. the sensation is all too familiar, like the pounding in his chest —but this time, it’s not from the heat of battle.

just how much longer he has to deal with this utterly insufferable feeling?

it’s worse now, because as you navigate through the halls of the base, he’s beginning to wonder if this is what it means to care for someone —to be vulnerable. 

“here,” you say softly as you stop in front of the door to his room.

he doesn’t want this moment to end. 

you glance at him then, finally meeting his eyes, and the look in them knocks the breath from your lungs. they’re hazy, yes, but there's a sharpness beneath the mask of drunkenness, a quiet intensity that makes your heart beat a little faster.

you clear your throat, breaking the silence. "do you need anything else?"

"no," he answers, almost reluctantly. "i’ll be alright."

a twinge of disappointment surges through you. right… it was foolish to expect anything different. he’s already rejected you, and you can’t help but feel a bit ridiculous for thinking it would be any other way.

you stand there for a moment, the silence between you growing thicker with each passing second, before you force yourself to nod, your voice soft as you try to mask the heaviness in your chest.

“goodnight then."

just as you turn to leave, you feel a sudden pull on your hand, your wrist tugged back with surprising gentleness.

"wait," blade suddenly says, and this time, there's no mistaking the sincerity in it. "thank you.”

his bandaged hand rests over yours, and a soft breath escapes you; flustered, you open your mouth to respond, ready to brush it off.

"oh! It's no pro—"

but you’re cut off before you can finish. he raises your hand, pressing his lips to the back of your palm in a soft, lingering kiss.

"—blem..."

your voice falters slightly as a rush of warmth spreads through you. every nerve in your body seems to spark awake all at once, making you hyper-aware of the spot from where his lips brushed against your skin. you freeze, your breath caught in your throat, unable to do anything but stand there, your hand still resting in his.

then, as if nothing happened, he steps back into his room and shuts the door behind him, leaving you standing there, still processing the unexpected moment.

safe to say you got little to no sleep that night. you roll over, staring at the ceiling, a soft smile tugging at the corners of your lips. it feels ridiculous, embarrassing even, how many times you've replayed that scene in your head every time you close your eyes.

you couldn’t help but smile to yourself like a fool. 

(“so bladie, how’d it go?” / “...”) 

you hadn’t even planned on leaving the base today, let alone stepping foot into the brightly lit chaos of an arcade, but silver wolf had insisted —no, nagged, until you caved. and somehow she’d managed to drag blade (of all people) along, her smug grin all too telling as she pushed the two of you together and skipped off to “go play some gachas”

now, you stand awkwardly by blade’s side, the flashing lights casting a colorful glow over his impassive face. it’s hard to ignore how out of place he looks, his dark coat, sunglasses, and the mask covering his lower face a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere. 

yet, somehow, he doesn’t seem to mind the sharp sounds of arcade machines beeping nor the kids screaming in excitement. he just stands there, hands in his pockets, watching you fumble with a stack of game tokens.

“you look thrilled,” you mutter, a sarcastic tone in your voice as you glance at him.  it’s strange, though —there’s something oddly endearing about the way he’s standing there, the dark lenses of his sunglasses reflecting a faint outline of your own face. you catch yourself staring for just a moment too long, wishing you could see beyond the lens, wishing you could read his eyes—

you shake the thought off, it’s all just wishful thinking.

behind the shield of his sunglasses, blade’s eyes tracked your every subtle movement, almost unconsciously. he caught the way your expression softened as you turned toward the claw machine, how your lips curved ever so slightly when your gaze settled on that… thing.

it was maddening, how effortlessly you held his focus, how even a trivial moment like this could stir something deep in him. he told himself it was nothing, but the tightening in his chest said otherwise. 

he wasn’t one to indulge in sentiment, yet something about the way you stared at that silly plush made him restless, made him want to do something about it, if only to keep that smile on your face a little longer.

would your smile grow brighter if that plush were in your hands? 

“let’s go.”

“to where…?” you asked, glancing back at him, the curiosity evident in your voice.

he didn’t answer immediately, but you felt the familiar tug at your hand once again, gentle and insistent, as his gaze slips toward the claw machine where you had been staring earlier.

it’s not hard to imagine the scene as a sweet little moment, with him focused on the claw machine, trying to win you a plush like a doting partner would. 

with a soft click, the claw tightens around the plush, and before you can react, it’s being lifted out of the pile, swinging toward the prize chute. you can't help but stare as he pulls the soft toy from the machine with a sense of quiet satisfaction.

(you pocket the rest of the tokens. guess he won’t be needing those…  for a first-timer, he sure got lucky —must be beginners' luck, huh?)

you blink, slightly impressed. “wow, you’re good at this,” you remark, unable to hide the surprise in your voice. 

without a word, he hands the plushie to you. 

you tilt your head slightly, a bit unsure. “for me...?”

“it's yours. take it." he looks to the side; suddenly thankful for the mask —if it weren't for that, you'd surely see the crimson tint creeping up his cheeks right now.

you hesitate for a second longer before reaching out to take it, your fingers brushing against his, a tingle of heat pulses through you, leaving your hand feeling strangely warm.

“th-thank you," you manage to spit out, and your eyes dart away, suddenly very aware of how close he is. surely, this isn’t good for your heart!

the twilight sky stretches wide, the clouds are heavy, and you’re looking oh so earnestly at him. his heart beats a little faster, louder now, as if his body knows exactly what he wants but refuses to let him act on it.

but then, he blinks —once, twice; snapping himself back to reality. he can feel the space between you growing smaller, your presence growing closer.

his eyelids flutter shut instinctively.

and then, the soft press of your lips against his cheek.

a soft sigh escapes him, and his eyes crack open. if you could see his expression right now, you'd catch the vulnerability that flashes in his gaze. he swears he can feel the warmth of your kiss in his very bones.

though not quite the kiss he imagined… it was something. (re: you got his hopes up)

the shock of your own actions hits you like a wave. you swallow thickly, “sorry —i'll go find silver wolf.” avoiding his gaze as you fumble with the tokens in your hand. "i… i’ll pass the extra tokens to her."

without waiting for a response, you turn and hurry off, your pulse pounding in your ears, praying that the ground would swallow you whole.

that night, you lay in bed, the plushie clutched tightly in your arms. the softness of it contrasts sharply with the rush of confusion filling your chest. 

why was he being so kind to you? after everything, after the way he rejected you just a few days ago, it made no sense. his actions felt contradictory.

you try to push the memory of the kiss out of your mind; impulsive decisions… often lead to mortifying outcomes. though when you glanced at him afterward, you could’ve sworn his ears were tinged with red, just peeking out from beneath his hair. nevermind, it’s probably your mind playing tricks on you.

blade, who’s as cold as the frost-kissed dusk, walks beside you through the lively festival, his dark coat a striking contrast to the vibrant reds and greens around you.

the faint scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider fills the air, mingling with the sound of distant carolers. he doesn’t say much, but there’s something about the way his gloved hand brushes yours, intentionally or not —that makes the chill in the air feel less biting.

you swallow, focusing on the festive stalls ahead, the decorations glittering in the night. “you don't have to stick around, you know. i can manage by myself.”

his steps slow just slightly, and he turns his head toward you, finally speaking. “you think i’d just leave you here?”

the words catch you off guard, and you fumble for a response. “i-i just meant—”

“relax.” he interrupts, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips; his hand grazing yours again. this time, his fingers linger for a moment longer, almost as if testing the waters, before retreating back into the safety of his pocket.

your cheeks flush, and you pretend to be deeply interested in a nearby stall selling hand-knit scarves. just then, his voice cuts through the festive hum. “last week… when you said you liked me,” he starts, and your breath catches.

you whirl back to face him, your heart pounding. “don’t worry about it! really, i—”

“i wasn’t rejecting you,” he says, with an unexpected gentleness in his gaze. “i like you too, [name].”

blade removes his coat, the fabric warm against the cold air as he drapes it around your shoulders, pulling you closer. you stumble, your hand instinctively pressing against his chest to catch your balance.

you look up at him, your breath quickening, as his face draws closer, his eyes locked on yours with that familiar intensity. you let your eyelids flutter shut, lips trembling, heart pounding in your chest as the space between you narrows.

but instead of the kiss you were anticipating, you feel the gentle warmth of his lips brush against your forehead.

your eyes snap open in confusion, only to meet his smirking face. oh... this asshole!

“what?" he teases, his tone deceptively casual. “you seem pretty eager,” his voice drops an octave, hand gently tilting your chin as he leans in just close enough for you to feel his breath against your skin.

you glare up at him, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. the way your lips quiver, unable to hold his gaze for long; the fact that he actually adores that flustered expression on your face... well, that’s when he realises. he’s too far gone.

what a dumbass lmfaoo

MASTERLIST.

[klipkillakai]

Connie and bae getting into an argument about his friendship with his ex Sasha and she walks out mid argument because he was tryna defend their friendship. She leaves and doesn’t show up until like two weeks later because she knows he’s crazy about her and she wants to test his loyalty (basically seeing if he would come look for her or not) I’ll leave the rest up to you

inner peace 🎋

“i keep telling you about that bitch connie” you spit while throwing clothes in the washing machine with a harshness as your fuming with anger, your not a jealous person.. never, you respect boundaries and you think it’s reasonable for your man to have friends within the opposite sex, within certain bounds, but sasha.. sasha clearly likes him, the way she finds any way to touch him, the way she brightens her voice when talking to him, the way she looks at you when he’s not paying attention, and the way you know she’s had the pleasure of being all over you man’s dick at some point..

you hear connie’s heavy footsteps walk down the hall, knowing he’s looking for you—

“you say that every time she comes over mama, i keep trynna tell you we just friends”

you roll your eyes “please connie.. she be all over you, “oh connie you so funny” “connie remember when we was together and we did this” “connie remember the time i did a split on it” you say pissed as hell can’t believing she actually say that..

you hear a sigh “she’s just joking, you know that—

you look up “don’t tell me what i fucking know connie, cs your really starting to piss me off” you push pass him and start walking towards the living room

“bro you need to relax alright, your acting like a bitch right now..”

you stop walking and you turn around to face him, “i’m acting like a what?”

he smacks his teeth “man you heard me”

you just stare at him, feeling the anger of all those times, you watched her flirt with him and he seemingly flirting back, the small touches.. the whispers and the stank looks caught up to you in that one moment until now, does he even want you? why is he fighting so hard for her? does he have that same loyalty when it comes to you? i guess we gon find out..

“fuck you connie” you spit out with a potent venom, you make a show of climbing up the stairs and ripping open the hall closet to grab your suitcase and duffel bag

connie’s heart sinks knowing he fucked up, he quickly runs up the stairs and follows you, he sees you packing up your stuff and his heart stutters

“where you going?” you don’t say anything, shoving all your clothes in your bag, opening the drawer and discreetly grabbing your passport and stack he had left in there and you shove it your duffel..

“you must not want this like you claim” you say calmly “your willing to call me a bitch over your ex who i say clearly makes ME uncomfortable” “where is your loyalty to me connie? why aren’t you defending ME?” you say and stare up at him with unshed tears in your eyes.. so guess what.. i’m going away and i’m gonna let you think about where your loyalty lies..

connies mouth slightly agape, not knowing what to say, he never thought this what happen, he never thought you would leave him like this, “imma fix this jus don’t leave” he starts stuttering out, he watches you grab all your bags and walking down the stairs “baby- FUCK please don’t leave” he says rubbing a hand down his head, at this point panicking over the thought of not seeing you again..

you don’t care, you’ve had enough and you need him to see, you slip on your crocs by the door and you walk outside, connie closely following, you throw all your shit in your car and you get in quicker than connie can catch you and you lock it so can’t get in, he banging on the door, pleading for you to not leave—

“please baby don’t” “don’t fucking do this y/n”

“GET OUT THE FUCKING CAR” he starts pulling on the door—

you start the car and you pull out, as connie starts following, trying to run with the car, but you speed off not giving a fuck..

connie stands in the middle of the road, yelling profanities, loosing his shit, he walks back in the house, and punches the wall, leaving a hole..

the first night you spend at your friends house, crying telling her what happened as you head you phone buzzing constantly, flooding for texts from connie and his friends, you didn’t care tho, you decided you was gon book a trip to costa rica, you have the money and you just want to get away..

a week has passed and connie wakes up, with a massive headache, he’s drunken and cried himself to sleep more than he wants to admit, he misses you, his baby, he misses waking up next to you and getting food with you, he misses your mind, your laughter, the peace you give him, and your gone

he’s reflected this passed week and he realizes his relationship with sasha is inappropriate, and it was confirmed when he called to cut her off, she called you all types of bitches and insecure and he realizes he been the biggest fucking idiot, and how much grace you’ve given him.. now he doesn’t know where you are, you blocked him and your friends refuse to tell him where you are, he stands up from the bed and decides to shower, he knows he should clean up the room but.. he needs to clean himself first,

—music floods the house soon after, and connie is shirtless fixing the hole in the wall, fixing the drywall with a white paste, he gets a ding cutting his music off for a second and he looks at his phone hoping it’s you, it’s eren and he reads the texts “this yo girl?”

connie’s brows furrow and watches the friends only story and sees you on a beach somewhere, just glowing, eyes looking brighter than he’s seen in awhile, your humming along to some song in spanish and it your with a group of people, someone says something in the background and you let out a soft giggle before the video ends..

connie feels his heart sink, not because you’ve done anything bad or anything like that, but he’s sees your thriving, you look better, you’ve gained a little weight, you look well rested and that makes him look like a shit person, had he been that draining? was his relationship with sasha stressing you out that much? why didn’t he listen to you? why didn’t he believe you?

he slams his phone down, climbing up the stairs abandoning, his project, just wanting to roll up that point and sleep—

-two weeks later-

you sigh as you walk off the plane, neck pillow around your neck and headphones over your ears, you can still feel the sway of the water all over your body, you can still feel the warmth of the sun and you can still taste the sweetness of the fruit on your tongue, you unblocked connie on the plane and watched all the texts pop up on your phone, you’ve forgiven him at this point and now you think about him, you miss him, you miss his smile, his jokes, him dancing around the house.. his dick, everything..and your glad to be back home..

connie hasn’t seen you in three weeks and at this point he’s lost a bit of hope, the only peace he finds is when he wakes up early and heads to the gym, he hasn’t been much of a gym rat, he has been here in there but he’s started taking it more seriously, to distract himself, he drops the weight finishing his set, he gets a notification from his phone and sees its from ring, thinking it’s a package or something he almost clicks out but then he realizes it says door unlocked and his heart skips a beat, he grabs his bag and water and almost runs out the gym, he gets in his car and speeds off, hoping it’s you, hoping your finally home—

you walk inside and set your bags down, looking around “connie?” you yell, looking throughout the house and quickly realizing he’s not home, you walk downstairs and open the fridge grabbing a coconut water and sipping on it as you tap on your phone, you had gotten a fresh set of a acrylics before you came home and you love them so much..

30 mins pass and your listening to music as you cook some sausages in the pan, your stomach grumbling with hunger, you hear the door unlock and you slightly jump, heart skipping a beat.. you put down the spatula and quietly walk towards the foyer, hearing keys jiggling and shoes being kicked off..

you stand there, his back turned alway from you, a duffel on his shoulder and flowers in his hand and he finally turns towards you and your quickly met with a look of shock that morphs into a soft smile

“hi” you whisper, he slowly walks towards you “hi” he whispers back..

you run towards him and jump on him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms wrapping around his neck, he drops everything in his hand and wraps his arms tightly around you, he presses kisses all over your head and cheeks, whispering “im so sorry” and “i love you so much” “please don’t leave me again” you press a kiss to his lips and he walks further in living room and sits on the couch with you in his lap..

“how was your trip?” he whispers, staring at you like a hawk, trying to capture your face, in a way he never forgets anything about you again..

“peaceful” you whisper and softly wipe the tear slowly gliding down his cheek, you squeeze his arms and notices there firmer and stronger than usual and he jus smiles “i’ve been at the gym” you smile amused and nod “i like it” he softly grabs your cheek and kisses you..

you both know that you’ve changed and that your relationship will be different than before, but for the better, you guys are stronger than before and that gives you the peace you both have been looking for, inner peace..

——————————————————————————

|a/n|

chile i don’t think i’ve ever written angst before, i definitely think i could do a little better but, i didnt want it to be too depressing fr, but lmk if you want a part two for some smut 🤭, also sorry girl for taking so long to reply, school be kicking my ass fr!! but guysss send me more requests this was sooo fun!! i know for me that i want to see very specific things in fics or like smut, and the best way to make that possible is when you inbox the writer, so inbox me fr!!! i don’t bite 🩷

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SIX ━━ A Little Too Much

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 6.2K

❀ ━ warnings: like maybe an allusion to sex???

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: paige bro lock in

PAIGE SINKS deeper into the couch, the familiarity of the apartment wrapping around her like a hug. It’s nice being back, the familiar scent of vanilla (Jo’s candles) filling the space. The TV is tuned to some random college football game—an SEC game that Paige really couldn’t care less about.

Aubrey’s sitting at the other end of the couch, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, her arm resting on the back cushion. A bag of chips is balanced precariously on her knee as she scrolls through her phone, glancing up at the screen every now and then to half heartedly comment on a play.

“Nah, ain’t no way Tennessee gets this one,” Aubrey says, tossing a chip into her mouth. “Georgia, no debate.”

Paige snorts, squinting at the game for a moment. “Ion know, the Vols are up.”

“They won’t be,” Aubrey insists, waving the bag of chips for emphasis.

Paige hadn’t realized how much she missed all of this until now. She’s spent the last month in LA, focusing on her rehab at a state-of-the-art facility her team insisted on. The work has been grueling—hours of physical therapy every day, pushing her body to its limits, trying to rebuild what she’s lost.

But being away from her teammates has been harder.

It’s the first week of October now and she hadn’t seen any of them since early September, right before she flew out. Sure, there were texts and FaceTimes—especially with Jo, who’s practically made it her mission to keep Paige from feeling too disconnected. But it isn’t the same as this: sitting on the couch, arguing over nothing, being in one of her best friend’s presence.

“You said Jo was working out with Yanna and Caroline, right?” Paige asks, glancing over at Aubrey. She’d be lying if she said she isn’t anxiously waiting for Jo to get her ass home.

“Yeah, they been at it all day. Jo’s on this whole new grind—something about gettin’ faster footwork or whatever. I dunno, think she just wants to be really prepared for the season, cause—” Aubrey nods to Paige’s knee and Paige nods—Jo is certainly gonna have a huge role for the team this season.

After a moment, though, Aubrey sends her a look, asking, “Why, though? You impatient?”

Paige just rolls her eyes, saying, “It’s just been a minute.”

Aubrey hums, though she doesn’t sound entirely too convinced.

Paige doesn’t much care. She cares more about the fact that she has to sit through nearly the entirety of this football game before she hears the door click open, her head snapping up instinctively. She can hear Jo before she sees her—her sneakers squeaking against the floor, her laugh that’s as bright and familiar as sunlight as she mutters something to—presumably—Ayanna or Caroline, who must still be in the hallway. For a second, everything else washes away—the announcers on the TV, Aubrey scrolling lazily on her phone. Paige’s focus narrows completely, landing squarely on the figure stepping into the apartment.

When Jo finally comes into view, it’s like Paige can breathe again. Except, maybe not, because Jo looks exactly the same and yet somehow better then Paige remembers. Her ponytail is a little messy, strands clinging to her forehead, and her tank top is soaked through with sweat, outlining the lean strength of her frame. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her eyes are sparkling with that post-workout adrenaline.

Paige feels her stomach plummet, a sudden, unwelcome realization inching into her mind. She thinks Jo looks beautiful like this.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” Jo’s voice breaks through Paige’s thoughts, light and high-pitched with excitement. Her smile is wide, open, and utterly disarming, like she’s been waiting for this moment for weeks. She drops her gym bag onto the floor without a second thought and breaks into a jog toward Paige, her arms already outstretched.

Paige stands automatically, her body moving before her brain catches up. And then Jo is there, colliding into her with so much force that Paige actually stumbles back half a step. Jo’s arms wrap around her shoulders, strong and unhesitating, and before Paige even knows what’s happening, she’s being pulling into the kind of hug that makes her feel like melting.

Jo smells like strawberry shampoo and a hint of sweat, a mix that should probably be unappealing but isn’t. Paige’s face ends up pressed against the side of Jo’s neck, and, for a moment, she lets herself completely sink into the embrace. Jo is warm and solid and so full of life, and Paige feels herself relax in a way she didn’t even realize she needed.

But there’s something else, too: a tangle of emotions she can’t—or maybe just doesn’t want—to name. Paige’s hands settle on Jo’s waist, and she pulls her closer, tighter, without even thinking. Her heartbeat picks up, thudding erratically in her chest. She tells herself it’s just the adrenaline of being nearly barreled into.

But then Jo’s laugh bubbles out, muffled against Paige’s shoulder, and Paige feels a little breathless.

“I missed you so much!” Jo squeals, her arms tightening around Paige like she’s never letting go.

Paige smiles, closing her eyes for just a second as her nose nudges Jo’s ponytail. “I missed you too,” she murmurs, and there’s a softness in her voice that surprises even her.

The warmth of Jo’s hug, the way her fingers curl slightly against Paige’s back, makes something twist low in Paige’s stomach. It’s almost too much, but at the same time, not enough. Paige doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to think about why this feels different than hugging Aubrey or Azzi earlier.

From behind them, Paige hears Aubrey mutter, “Yeah, maybe a little too much.”

Paige’s eyes snap open, heat rushing to her face. She freezes, her arms going stiff for just a second, but Jo doesn’t seem to notice. Paige’s heart pounds as she wills herself to stay calm, to keep her expression neutral as she pulls back, not too abruptly but enough to put some space between them.

Jo beams, her hands lingering on Paige’s shoulders as she grins up at her. Paige feels like she might die under the weight of it.

“Shit,” Jo says suddenly with realization, stepping back and gesturing to herself. “I’m disgusting right now. I should’ve warned you before jumping on you like that.”

“You’re fine,” Paige says quickly, and then, because she feels like she should say something normal, she adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen you sweaty before.”

Jo laughs, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. “Still. Let me shower, and then we’re hanging out. No excuses. I missed you!”

Paige can’t help but smile back, even as her thoughts churn. Jo is grinning at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters, and Paige feels something warm and unsteady settle in her chest. She watches as Jo grabs her bag and heads toward the bathroom.

Once she’s out of view, Paige sits back down on the couch with a huff. She hates that her heart is still beating too fast.

Next to her, Aubrey hasn’t moved, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch as she watches Paige with a look that makes the blonde shift a little. The football game continues on, the last few minutes of the fourth quarter blaring, but Aubrey doesn’t seem the least bit interested in it anymore.

Paige finally breaks the silence, blurting out as she turns to Aubrey, “What did you mean by that?”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “By what?”

Paige frowns. “That comment you made. About me missin’ her too much.”

Aubrey doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans forward, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume on the TV. When she settles back into her seat, she gives Paige a look—a knowing look that immediately puts Paige on edge.

“She has a boyfriend, bro,” Aubrey says simply, as if that explains everything.

“I know that,” Paige snaps, the words leaving her mouth too quickly. She feels a flush creeping up her neck and shifts in her position, trying to look casual, unbothered. “Obviously I know that.”

Aubrey’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Paige says, her voice sharper now. She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive without meaning to be. “’Course I do. What’s your point?”

Aubrey tilts her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s holding back a smirk. “My point is,” she says slowly, “you look at her like she’s the sun or sum. And don’t act like you don’t, ’cause I just saw it.”

Paige scoffs, but it’s weak, almost half-hearted. “That’s fuckin’ ridiculous,” she says, though her tone wavers. “She’s, like, my best friend. I’m just—” She falters, trying to find the right words “I’m just happy to see her. It’s been a month, bro. I’d be like that with anyone.”

“Really?” Aubrey asks, raising her eyebrows. “Uh, you didn’t act like that when I picked you up from the airport. Or when Az came by earlier.”

“That’s different,” Paige says defensively. “You and Azzi—she’s—” She stumbles over the words, annoyed that she can’t articulate why it is different without making it sound worse.

Aubrey doesn’t look convinced. In fact, she looks entirely unimpressed. “Uh-huh,” she says, drawing the syllables out. “P, I warned you about this when you two first moved in together.”

Paige remembers. She remembers when they were moving her bed during the summer and Aubrey had told her seriously, “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson.”

At the time, Paige had laughed it off. The idea seemed absurd then. Sure, Jo was beautiful, but she was also a freshman and just getting her feet wet here, and Paige would never do that. She would never do that. She still would never do that. But then, Paige hadn’t ever thought of her in that way.

Now—

“I don’t like her like that,” Paige says, her voice firmer than she feels. “I don’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Aubrey says again, in the same tone as before. “Look, I’m not saying you’re doing it on purpose. But, bro, if you do have feelings for her—and I’m not saying you do—don’t let ’em mess with your head. Or the team.”

Paige bristles at that. “I don’t have feelings for her,” she insists. “And even if I did—which I don’t—it wouldn’t affect the team. I’m not that stupid.”

Aubrey shrugs, unfazed. “I’m just saying. Jo’s solid with Asher. Like, really solid. You don’t wanna go down that road.”

Paige feels her chest tighten, and she doesn’t know if it’s because she hates how Aubrey is talking to her or because some small, traitorous part of her knows Aubrey might be right.

“I’m not goin’ down any road,” Paige says, forcing her voice to stay even. “You’re reading too much into this. I’m just happy to see my best friend again. That’s it.”

Aubrey doesn’t press further, but her silence is heavy, loaded with unspoken skepticism. Paige tries to focus on the last few minutes of the football game, but the TV screen practically blurs in her vision as her thoughts spiral.

She tells herself Aubrey’s wrong. That her excitement to see Jo is completely normal. That the way her heart has leapt when Jo walked in the door was nothing more than relief after a long time apart.

But deep down, she can’t shake the way her stomach had flipped when Jo smiled at her. Or the way her chest felt too tight when Jo hugged her, like her ribs were trying to contain something that didn’t want to be contained.

Paige doesn’t know what to call it. She doesn’t want to know.

JO’S EYES remain glued to the screen, but she doesn’t even notice what’s happening in the episode anymore. She missed this—missed the nights spent lying next to Paige, the “sleepovers” which are really just code for one of them being too lazy to walk back into their own rooms and crawl into their own beds.

Jo’s massaging Paige’s knee, the rhythm comforting and almost mechanical now. It’s just what they do; she’s done it a thousand times over since her surgery, though it’s been a month since she’s done it now. She knows how much it helps Paige, and it’s not like it’s anything weird—just a friend doing something nice for another friend, a friend that’s gone through this same thing before and knows what can help.

She’s not thinking about the way Paige’s leg feels under her palm, how soft the skin is, how warm. She’s not. She’s not thinking about how close they are, how the smooth skin of Paige’s thigh rests under her cheek, or how the way Paige moves so naturally beside her makes her chest feel tight in a way that doesn’t make sense.

Paige lets out a soft sigh, and Jo doesn’t quite know why it sends a little flutter through her. She shakes it off quickly, adjusting her position to be more comfortable, still massaging her knee.

They’re almost at the end of first season of The Vampire Diaries now, and Jo’s surprised that Paige has stuck with it. She thought, with all the complaining, that Paige would have tapped out after a few episodes, but here they are, still going strong. Jo knows her well enough that she can tell that Paige has actually started to get into it. Maybe not as much as Jo, but enough to make comments and roll her eyes at the sometimes ridiculous drama.

“You can’t actually be Team Damon, P,” Jo says, shaking her head against Paige’s thigh, letting her fingers glide over the tender muscle beneath Paige’s knee. “Like, come on, girl. Stefan is clearly the better choice.”

Paige shifts slightly, and Jo glances up to see the blonde smirking down at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed and Jo can understand why—it’s hot in here. Maybe they should turn the heat down. “Ion know, JoJo. Damon’s a lot more interesting.”

Jo huffs, “Yeah, well, interesting isn’t always the best option. You need someone who’s steady, who’s good for you.”

“Who’s ‘boring,’ you mean?” Paige’s voice is light, a teasing edge to it.

Jo shakes her head again, laughing a little. As she does so, her lips lightly graze the top of Paige’s thigh. She doesn’t think anything of it. But then she feels Paige’s leg tense up. Jo stills her hand on her knee, thinking she might’ve done something wrong. But then, maybe a second later, Paige is relaxed again, and she doesn’t say anything, so Jo cautiously resumes the massage.

“Yeah, boring’s fine. It’s good. It’s better than all the shit Damon brings,” Jo says.

She can feel the subtle shift in Paige’s posture—she’s looking at Jo, eyes soft, gaze steady—and Jo quickly glances back at the TV, avoiding it. She doesn’t know why. Because it’s because if she lets herself look at Paige for too long, she’ll start thinking about things she’s not supposed to.

“Whatever,” Paige says after a pause. “I still think Damon’s cooler.”

Jo just snorts as she finishes working on the blonde’s knee, feeling the tension slowly melt away as her fingers work the muscles. A final press of her thumb into the joint elicits a soft sigh from Paige, and Jo grins slightly, the satisfaction of helping her best friend making it worth it.

Her fingers ache slightly from the pressure, but it’s nothing really. She looks at Paige briefly before flopping down beside her, her legs splaying out on the bed as she turns onto her stomach. The weight of the day and the long workout is starting to press in on her, and the soft, quiet room feels soothing. “My turn,” she says with a little grin, throwing a look over at Paige as she gestures to her back. It’s a deal they became accustomed to before Paige went off to LA—Jo massages Paige’s knee, and Paige takes care of the horrendous knots in Jo’s back. Simple.

Paige stares at her for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, before moving over to straddle Jo’s hips and starting to knead into her back. Jo tries to relax, exhaling deeply as Paige’s hands work their way over her tense muscles. It’s familiar and comfortable, and God, is Jo glad Paige is back in Storrs.

Paige’s fingers press into a particularly stubborn knot, right between Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo winces, just a little. It’s the one knot that never seems to go away, no matter how much she tries to stretch or work it out. It’s been there for years, a stubborn thing.

“Still there?” Paige’s voice is soft, but Jo can hear the hint of concern.

The younger girl nods into the pillows. “Mmm, yeah, it never goes away.”

Paige hums in acknowledgement, and Jo hears her shift slightly. For a moment, she wonders if Paige is just going to stay where she is and work the knot from the outside, but then, to her surprise, she feels Paige’s hands move to the bottom of her t-shirt, sliding under the fabric carefully.

“Lemme get in there,” Paige murmurs lowly.

The words and the cool air against her skin sends a shiver down Jo’s spine, but she doesn’t pull away. Paige’s touch is so familiar, so comforting, that even the shift in how they’ve positioned doesn’t feel strange—at least, it shouldn’t. She can feel Paige’s fingers move under the fabric, creeping up her spine near her shoulder blade, right where she can press deeper into the knot. The pressure is sudden but not unwelcome. It’s exactly what Jo needs.

“Mmm, that’s better,” Paige says softly, her voice closer now, almost against Jo’s back, as she works the knot precisely. Her fingertips press firmly into the spot, working the muscle, easing the tendon.

The warmth from Paige’s fingers against her skin sends a wave of heat through Jo’s body, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The knot is finally loosening, and for a brief moment, she’s too focused on the sensation to even process anything else. Paige’s hands move with ease, like she’s done this a thousand times. And she has. Or, well, at least a few.

“You good?” Paige asks, voice soft but steady, like she’s concerned, and Jo feels a strange pull in her chest.

Jo hums in response, though it comes out softer than she intended. “Yeah, that feels perfect.”

For a moment, there’s silence between them, and all Jo can focus on is the steady rhythm of Paige’s hands as they move over her back, the weight of her stomach settling into Jo’s muscles. The room is even warmer now—they really should turn down the heat. Even if it’s Connecticut, it’s only October. That, or maybe it’s just the proximity, the closeness of Paige’s body to here. Jo doesn’t know what it is, but her heart’s not beating the way it usually does.

Paige’s hands slide back up, pressing into the tender spots along Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo bites her lip, trying to ignore how good it feels.

And then, without thinking, Jo shifts slightly, a small motion that presses her chest just a little closer to the bed. With the movement, her body aligns a bit more with Paige’s, and suddenly the space between them feels too small, too close. She can feel Paige’s breath against her back, steady and warm, and Jo’s pulse quickens despite herself.

“God,” Jo mutters. “You’re good at this.”

Paige’s fingers stop their movements for a moment, as if processing the words. “It’s nothing,” she says, but there’s something different in her voice. Maybe it’s just how close they are, or maybe it’s the weight of the silence hanging between them, but Jo’s pretty sure she hears a shift in the way Paige speaks. A slight tension in her voice that Jo can’t explain.

Eventually, Paige finishes working the knot, her hands pulling away slowly. Jo almost feels a pang of disappointment, but she can’t place why. She’s just relaxing, just letting herself unwind. It’s nothing.

Paige lies back down next to her, the space between them still feeling a little smaller than it should be. Jo turns her head to meet Paige’s gaze, their faces just inches apart.

“Better?” Paige asks, her voice soft and almost too quiet. Her fingers trail lightly down Jo’s spine, slipping out from under her shirt with a gentle touch that sends a small shiver through Jo.

Jo smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

Paige nods, her lips lifting at the corners a little before Jo turns her gaze back to the TV. She tucks her hands under her cheek as she lays on her side, eyes lazily watching the screen. Damon and Elena are fighting over something—per usual.

She doesn’t even notice at first when Paige shifts, her leg brushing against Jo’s under the covers. And then she slides a little closer, her shoulder brushing against Jo’s arm. Her face is even closer now, and Jo’s aware of that. She can feel her breath against her skin. It catches her a little off guard, but it’s not weird. It’s just how they always seem to end up—close.

“I missed you, Joey.” Paige’s voice, so soft, echoes through the room.

Jo glances up, meeting her gaze. It makes her smile. “I missed you too.”

And she did—she got so used to being so close to her that it was terrible when she was gone for so long. So bad it felt like Jo was going through withdrawal or something. And it only makes it worse that she’s flying back out in a couple days and Jo is going to have the apartment to herself again.

Paige’s face is still close, her eyes searching Jo’s for something. They’re so blue, even in the dim lighting of the room, and they feel like an ocean Jo could easily drown in.

She doesn’t know why she does it, but she presses herself closer still, their chests touching now, Jo’s nose brushing against Paige’s neck. Their legs tangle more under the sheets, and Jo feels Paige wrap her arm around her waist gently, letting it rest there. Jo doesn’t mind.

It’s just them. It’s just how they are.

PAIGE WAKES slowly, the soft morning light streaming through the slats of the blinds casting stripes across the bed. Her body feels heavy, warm, and there’s a comforting weight against her arm. Blinking her eyes open, she shifts her head on the pillow and glances down. Jo is still asleep beside her, her face soft in the pale light, her features slack with peace.

Jo looks… pretty, Paige thinks, her thoughts still hazy with sleep. Her hair is tousled, sticking up slightly at the crown from no doubt a restless turn in the night, but it only makes her look softer, less put together in a way that feels intimate. Paige is half aware of the fact that her own arm is tucked under Jo’s, her hand resting near Jo’s waist. Their legs are tangled together, too, her calf brushing Jo’s under the covers.

Paige doesn’t move immediately. She doesn’t want to. It’s warm like this, comfortable, and even though the logical part of her brain tells her to pull away, to avoid making it weird, she stays where she is.

Her gaze lingers on Jo’s face, on the slight curve of her lips, the freckles dusted across her nose that are barely visible. There’s something unguarded about Jo in the morning, something vulnerable and even sweeter than she is when she’s awake.

Last night drifts back to Paige’s mind. The massages, the feel of Jo’s hands on her knee, the feel of Jo’s back under her hands. The way Jo told her she missed her, too. Paige had meant it when she told her—she’d missed Jo more then she thought she would during her time in LA. But it’s not just that. There had been something else in the air last night.

Maybe it’s just the shift of being apart for a month, she tells herself. That’s all. It’s just the way things feel different when you come back to someone after being away. Things will settle back into place eventually. They always do.

Jo stirs slightly in her sleep, her brow twitching, and Paige instinctively stills, not wanting to wake her. The younger girl murmurs something unintelligible and shifts closer, her head tilting toward Paige’s shoulder, and Paige’s breath catches for half a second.

The buzz of a phone breaks the quiet, cutting through the gentle hum of the morning. Paige blinks, her thoughts scattering, and she glances toward the nightstand. The phone buzzes again. She assumes its hers—she gets texts at odd hours from basically everyone. Without thinking, she reaches out, fumbling for the phone blindly without lifting her head.

Her fingers close around the cool device, and she squints at the screen as she opens it, not wearing her glasses yet. By the lockscreen, she immediately can tell that this is not her phone, though—it’s Jo’s. She’s about to close it and put it back when the name at the top of the screen makes her freeze. Ash.

Her stomach twists. She knows that name and she knows it well. Asher. Jo’s boyfriend.

Maybe she doesn’t mean to look, maybe she does. Either way, the messages are right there, impossible to ignore.

Ash 💓

Hi baby I know it’s early

Just wanted to say I miss you

and love you

And I can’t wait to see the media day flicks you better send me them all

Paige stares at the screen for a long moment, her chest tightening in a way she doesn’t—but also might—understand. She knows she should stop looking, that this is a complete violation of Jo’s privacy, but her eyes tracy the words again. Baby. I miss you. I love you. They feel like a slap.

She exhales sharply, locking the phone and setting it back on the nightstand. Her case flicks back to Jo, still fast asleep. Her face is serene and peaceful and Paige feels an overwhelming rush of emotions. It’s not jealousy. It’s not. She’s not jealous. She has no right to be jealous of two high school sweethearts that literally grew up next door together that are probably soulmates and are someday going to get married and have babies.

She’s not jealous of that.

But, nonetheless, the knot in her stomach doesn’t go away.

She unentangles herself carefully, shifting her leg and arm away from Jo’s, mindful not to wake her. Jo murmurs something again, soft and sleepy, and Paige pauses for a second before slipping off the bed entirely. She needs space. Air.

She pads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. Her hands grip the edge of the sink, and she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a mess, her face slightly puffy from sleep.

She shakes her head, turning on the faucet to splash cold water on her face. It doesn’t help much.

Paige forces herself to focus, to push away the strange feelings clawing at her. Jo is her roommate, her freshie, and, yeah, basically her best friend now. And that’s all this is. That’s all it will ever be. She needs to stop overthinking. She needs to get ready for the day.

But even as she brushes her teeth and begins to brush through her hair, her thoughts keep circling back to those texts. To Asher. To Jo. And to the way Jo’s body had felt so warm and close and right against hers just minutes ago.

PAIGE STANDS in front of the mirror in the locker room, adjusting her uniform and smoothing her jersey. The bold, navy #5 stitched on the front catches her eye, and for a moment, she lingers. It feels almost strange, wearing the jersey she won’t be able to play in this season.

Not that she hasn’t come to terms with it. Paige is good at keeping herself together now, even if the pang of frustration hasn’t entirely disappeared—and won’t, she knows, until she gets to play again. But she’s learned to deal with it, to channel her energy elsewhere. If she can’t be on the court, she can still be here—still lead, still help her team in every way she can.

Her hair is perfectly straightened, sleek and sharp, the way she likes it. Her makeup looks good, too—just enough to emphasize her sharp cheekbones and blue eyes, but nothing overdone. The uniform ties it all together, making her look just like the player she’s supposed to be, the one she still is even if she’s stuck on the sidelines.

She takes a couple mirror pics—her annual media day mirror pics. They come out well, and she posts them to Instagram with the caption “5’ll be back soon,” because it will. She will.

By the time the day is in full effect, Paige knows the drill: photos, videos, soundbites for promos. She takes a few solo shots first, her expression switching between serious and smiles for the camera. Then it’s duo photos—first with Azzi, then with Nika and Aaliyah, her classmates. They laugh and joke between snaps, Nika managing to pinch Paige and Aaliyah during one, probably getting a perfect reaction picture.

Whilst Jo is getting her photos done, Paige is off to the side, hyping her up. When she makes Jo laugh—loud and sudden, the kind that makes her throw her head back—Paige is the one who catches the photographer’s eye. He gestures for her to join Jo, saying how he likes their energy together. Paige does as he asks, coming into view of the camera.

They stand side by side, first posed with their arms crossed, meant to look tough and intimidating. Then, the photographer tells Jo to lean her arm casually on Paige’s shoulder. Jo does, and it feels so normal, so them, that Paige doesn’t even notice how close they are until the photos pop up on the photographer’s screen.

“Yo,” Paige says, leaning in closer to the preview image. “We look good.”

Jo grins, nudging the blonde with her elbow. “Yeah, we do.”

And they do. There’s something about the way they look together—Jo’s darker features contrasting with Paige’s lighter ones, their postures balanced between playful and powerful—that feels striking.

When the photographer tells them they’re done, Jo taps Paige on the back lightly, her touch lingering for a half-second too long. Paige pretends not to notice.

They continue on through a mix of photos, promo videos, and shorter interviews. Paige’s role as “Coach P,” as everyone’s begun calling her, doesn’t go unnoticed.

Nika, of course, has to chime in. “That girl ain’t my coach,” she mutters loud enough for everyone to hear, shaking her head while she stirs a few laughs from their teammates and some of the media coordinators.

Paige rolls her eyes but before she can respond, Jo cuts in, throwing her arms around Paige’s shoulders from behind and resting her chin right by Paige’s neck. “You’re right, Nik,” Jo says, her voice teasing as her arms tighten slightly around Paige. “She’s not your coach. She’s mine.”

Nika hisses at her in mock annoyance, making Jo laugh loudly as she lets go of Paige—though not before making sure to squeeze Paige’s shoulders fondly.

Paige hardly notices the way Nika flicks at Jo’s arm afterwards, or the way Jo sticks her tongue out at her. Instead, her brain replays the words—she’s mine.

Mine, mine, mine, mine.

It’s not like that, though. And, goddamn, she has to get herself together.

Luckily, she has an interview waiting for her, so she doesn’t have long to continue dwelling on it. Except, actually, she thinks she might be unlucky, because when she spots Celeste Sinclair waiting for her with that soft little smirk and a glint in her eyes, Paige almost groans aloud.

She supposes she did this to herself, though. It’s not like she didn’t know Celeste was one of their media girls when she started fucking her—it’s literally how they met.

As Paige approaches, Celeste’s eyes sweep over her, lingering just a fraction too long on the way her uniform fits. Paige notices it immediately, and begins to steel herself.

“Paige,” the redhead greets, her tone syrupy and professional, but there’s a flicker of something else underneath. Something Paige is very familiar with.

“Celeste,” Paige replies evenly, keeping her expression neutral. She folds her hands in front of her, trying not to let her irritation show. She doesn’t have time for this—doesn’t have the patience or willpower to handle another girl turned obsessed—but media day is about appearances, so she plasters on a polite smile and takes the mini mic Celeste offers her.

The questions start predictably enough. Celeste asks about her recovery, her plans for the future, how she’s adjusting. Paige answers each question with the kind of practiced ease she’s managed to master over the years. She talks about her rehab process, about staying focused, about how the comeback will be stronger than the setback. The words feel automatic now, almost rehearsed.

Still, it stings a little. Every time she’s reminded that she won’t touch the court this season, that she’ll have to watch from the bench while her teammates fight for another championship, there’s a flicker of frustration she can’t quite extinguish.

But she doesn’t let it show. Obviously.

Celeste presses on, asking something about how Paige is adapting to her new role as a leader from the bench, and Paige forces herself to smile through it. She talks about embracing the role of “Coach P,” about how it’s just as important to support the team off the court as it is on it. She doesn’t let her voice waver, doesn’t let any of the bitterness slip through.

When the interview finally wraps, Paige exhales quietly, ready to walk away—but Celeste steps closer, cutting her off.

“So,” Celeste says, her voice dropping just enough to make it clear this part isn’t for the cameras. “You’ve been busy out west, yeah? I—you haven’t been back at all lately.”

Paige sighs a little. “Yeah, well. Rehab and stuff. You know how it is.”

Celeste tilts her head. “I do. Still, I thought you might text or call or something. I left you a few messages, but you never answered.”

Paige resists the urge to roll her eyes. Celeste’s persistence is both flattering and annoying. Yeah, the sex had been good—but was it genuinely good enough for Celeste to continuously run after Paige when she’s made it more than obvious that she doesn’t really want her? Paige doesn’t think so.

But, then again, Paige is better with her tongue and fingers than Celeste is.

“Been busy,” Paige says again, brushing her off.

The red-haired girl doesn’t seem deterred, though. She leans in just slightly, murmuring, “Well, if you’re not too busy tonight or even later this week… ?”

Paige starts to shake her head, ready to shut it down. She has enough girls in her bed back in LA that she doesn’t need to make up for it here while she’s only back for a few days.

But then—her mind flashes to this morning. To Jo. To the messages from Asher. The pit that settles in her stomach when she saw the I love you and I miss you and the baby. Something about it still lingers, sharp and annoying, and Paige can’t quite shake it.

Before she really thinks about what she’s doing, she hears herself saying, “Actually, I am free tonight.”

Celeste’s face lights up, her smile widening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, her tone casual, like she isn’t committing to something she’s already dreading a little. “I fly back to LA in a couple days, so tonight works.”

Celeste doesn’t bother hiding her excitement. “Perfect. Come over later?”

Paige nods and Celeste looks almost giddy as she finally walks away.

As Paige rejoins her teammates, sitting next to Jo, the brunette smirks at her a little, judging her arm and asking, “Again?”

Paige feels heat rushing up her neck and into her cheeks. “Stop, it’s nothing,” she says quickly.

Jo doesn’t press or tease her much like anyone else would, just letting out a little laugh under her breath before getting up for one of her own interviews.

Paige can’t help but watch her during it. And think.

Jo, asleep in her bed this morning, soft and peaceful and pretty. Jo, laughing loudly during their photoshoot. Jo, whose phone had lit up with messages from a boyfriend that Paige can’t stand to think about.

Her jaw tightens slightly, and she shoves the thoughts aside. She’s going to Celeste’s tonight. At least she’ll be doing something.

[onelittlespiral]

FML:Relax

From the moment I arrived, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had come on vacation to kick back for a few days and get some action, but the resort had nearly no women and was instead populated with almost all men. They seemed like nice guys when I talked to them, certainly my kind of guys with how jacked they were. Or at least I thought so.

“Hey cutie, wanna come spend some time with daddy?”

“A newbie! Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and sweet with you.”

“You looking to top or bottom?”

I realized I must have come on the Gay Days, and the men there were not shy about coming on to me. I tried to politely excuse myself whenever they turned the topic to sex. I spent a lot of time at the pool trying to just relax and have a good time, but it was starting to tick me off.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.”

A man came and sat next to me. He was a scruffy guy, tanned and huge like most of the rest of them. The scent of sunscreen and BO rolled off him. His arms were wrapped in some nerdy tattoos but their size clearly showed he worked out hard. If he wasn’t here this week I would assume him to be a good pick for a gym bud.

“Yeah, first time. Didn’t realize I booked…uh…this week. Not really my scene.”

Something in his demeanor changed. It was hard to describe, but I felt a lot more at ease. He leaned over and began whisper to me,

“If I’m being honest. It isn’t much for me either. But fuck these gay guys know how to party. They’ve got just about anything you could want to take, and basically just pass the shit around. You ever actually tried poppers? I was fucked up bro.”

Maybe it was finally meeting another straight guy but I began relaxing.

He continued, “I got some stashed if you want to swing by and try some shit out.”

Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be such a wash.

I stopped by his room later that afternoon. He greeted me at the door and invited me in as he promised to show off the goods. The room was trashed. The floor was strewn with dirty shirts, shorts, and jockstraps. Shot glasses and beers were stuck to the tables. The bed was drenched in sweat. I stepped in and took a seat on the couch, cautions to avoid the mess. He sat down next to me.

“So, what have you got?”

“You now babe,” he said, throwing his arm in the air.

“Whaaaa…haaa” I started before my brain was afloat.

I slowly leaned forward, drawn in by the thick musk that radiated from his pit. I tried to resist but soon my nose was pressed against it as his sweat filled my brain. I tried to pull back but he rested his arm against the back of my head, pinning me as my brain shut down on the fumes. It wasn’t long before my tongue lolled out of my mouth.

“There you go. Relax. Good boy.”

Good boy. It echoed in my brain, bouncing till it was the only thought left. I quivered in anticipation as I continued to drink in his scent and let his hair tickle my face.

“Yeah, lap it up big boy. This is right where you belong. It was designed just for you, to trap guys and help them fit in a bit more.”

What did he mean by that? But as he told me to lap it up, it was no longer good enough to just smell. I gave a hesitant lick. It only took one as his sweat swam across my mind. All functionality shut down as I worshipped that pit. As I did, I began to feel a change. Deep within an itch, a need developed. A need to be desired by this man… no. To be desired by men. Any who would have me. I felt a new power flow through me, a revitalized energy and strength. He pulled my dumbstruck face out of his pit and gave my hair a quick tousle. His hand glided down my cheek to my chin, and with a firm flick of his wrist pulled my lips to his. He pressed my face to his in a deep kiss as new memories filled my mind. Memories of long nights dancing and drinking at bars. Days working out getting shredded before hitting the sauna for some fun. Of pride parades and glitter in my beard. The longer he kissed me the more I felt myself grow completely comfortable in his arms. I belonged here, with all the hottest guys living it up for a week at the resort. I had been coming here for years to show off, party hard, and fuck into the early morning. My old self was being flushed away, leaking out of my cock, while the new personality filled in the gaps.

My body began to change where his hands brushed over my body. Arms swelled as biceps grew to mounds on my arms. Pecs hung heavy with muscle. Thighs and legs sent slow rips through my shorts until they had burst through, leaving my swelling cock to fight the jockstrap underneath. Feet inched across the floor as my toes curled from the strain. Every inch writhed beneath his touch. He pulled me back to inspect me.

“Damn you’re turning out well, some of my finest work.”

I mumbled in agreement, still stuck in a state of ecstasy as I felt new power surging through me. “Time to seal the deal.”

He slid his jock down, and the full force of his sweat and musk sent my brain swimming. I couldn’t resist as he slid his cock down my open throat, balls deep, and began face fucking me. As his bush filled my nostrils, pre slid down my throat in a steady stream. I felt warm all over, as a deep tan set in. I had come to this resort for years and loved sunbathing and showing off my muscles. The heat persisted, turning to a sweat, the sweat turning to a deep funk. It was the same smell invading my mind and body as he continued to thrust, deeper as my body adjusted to years of sucking men off. It felt like no surprise as a dusting of hair covered my pecs, then pushed down my stomach before my shaved down bush exploded. My pits filled in to better capture my own smell, and keep me just a little high on my own supply.

“Fuck yeah little bro, you’re gonna be so good out there.”

He slipped a hat over my head, and my mind filled with a new purpose. To kick back at this resort and fucking party. To feel pride in who I was and become one of the community. But, most importantly, to grow the tribe and bring more guys into the fold. I felt his cock tense in my mouth as my mind slowed down to accept my place as a gay god, to worship my bros and be worshiped. As thick ropes shot down my throat, I felt strong. I smelt rank. And I was fucking home.

The next day, a new guy showed up to the resort. Skinny, shy, out of place. I came over to talk with him.

“First time here, bro?”

“Yeah, not quite sure I belong.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. Throwing my arm behind my head. My musk caught his attention as his eyes began glazing over, “Why don’t I show you around?”

“Ye…yeah…yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” his face was soon resting in my pit, and I saw his muscles twitch with anticipation, “you’re gonna fit right in bro.”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

I'm so annoyed, my best friend has such an asshole for a husband. He basically never pays attention to her, all he cares about sport, beer and his friends. He never helps around the house and he's a lazy slob! He's always at the gym or going to the game with his bros. He's such a prick, maybe he should just be date his bros since he's so obsessed with them. He's always complaining about his wife "bothering him". Plus who would want to marry a slob anyway, as a husband he should be devoted to cleaning his house and caring about who he is married to.

I think I found the guy you're talking about, and you're totally right about him being an asshole. Your friend deserves better than an uncaring, selfish, pig-of-a-husband. That girl has tolerated him for too long! She won't be seeing him or his sexist buddies ever again when I'm done here...

Just look at him! The first thing he does when he gets home is grab a beer and park that fat ass of his on the couch. Sure, he might hit the gym later on his way to the bar, but he's not planning on helping his wife out with dinner. He's not really planning on talking to her at all until he needs a blow job later tonight.

You mentioned his name was Brett, I think?

Well, Brett can barely hold a job. He's lucky you gave him a chance and got him a gig as a delivery man. I think he's been doing this for a month now, but he absolutely resents the work. Brett can't really enjoy anything unless he has a beer in his hand, and he absolutely hates wearing that stuffy little uniform.

Nevertheless, he's been consistently showing up so far; probably because his wife is waking him up, washing his clothes, and feeding him breakfast. Brett essentially only uses her as a maid and sex toy!

It's a good thing I've got something planned for Brett today as he starts his delivery rounds. He doesn't notice me following as he grumpily carries a package out of his truck, and he doesn't have time to react when I reach out and grab the back of his head.

"You're not going to move," I command, sinking my fingers into the soft parts of his skull, "You're going to let me in."

A deep sigh blows out of Brett's mouth, and I know his willpower is gone. "I'm not going to move. I'll let you in..." he repeats numbly.

With permission, I shoot inside his mind, discovering much of what I expected. His thoughts revolve around meeting up with his bros after work. He hasn't genuinely cared to think about his wife in ages. His mind is just as simple and unlikeable as he is.

Good thing I'm here to change it!

"Brett, I'm changing your thoughts. You like that. You want me to rewrite you."

"You're..." he struggles to form words, "You're changing my thoughts. I like that. I want you to rewrite me..."

"Good," I grin maliciously.

Bringing my lips closer to his ear, I begin to fill his head with his new personality. He accepts all his new goals and dreams wholeheartedly. I imagine, you will like them. They're the ones you asked for...

Done for now, I pull out of his mind, whipping Brett back into consciousness! He gasps for air as he regains his senses, but then something overtakes him. He's taken off running down the street!

I follow behind, knowing exactly where he'll end up. I must say that I enjoy watching his thick ass jogging away in those tight brown shorts. He's a lot more muscular than I gave him credit for.

I'm sure his new husband will enjoy that body of his too.

Brett sprints several blocks and runs straight up to a house at the end of the street. It's the home of one of his football buddies. I think his name might be Axel or Alex or something. I'm not sure.

Anyways, Brett bangs on the door, panting like a dog. When the door is finally opened, he wastes no time. Brett pulls his bro in for the long passionate kiss he's been waiting for.

"Dude?" his friend mumbles as their lips part, "What are you doing?"

Little does he know that I already hypnotized him, too. He's going to accept everything Brett does like it's what he's wanted all along.

"Axel! Man, I love you!" Brett moans, pulling his football buddy in closer, "I want you to marry me. I'll quit my job and be your housewife. I'll be better at that! And you can boss me around and use me however you want, bro! I mean everything; cooking, cleaning, everything!"

"Woah, dude! That's a lot to take in," he hesitates, but already his mind is giving in, "But yeah. I like the sound of that. Being my wife means more than just cooking and cleaning though."

Brett looks at his new love earnestly. Meanwhile, Axel straightens up and crosses his arms to look rough.

"It means pleasure, whenever I want it and wherever I want it. It means you only get to watch the football games in between you serving me and my friends. By the way, they're just my friends now. Got it, dude?"

"Yeah," Brett whines, "Just let me start now!"

Axel smirks and pulls his new house husband into the house, giving him a possessive slap on the butt as they pass over the threshold.

"Alright, bitch. I'm gonna treat you just as bad as you did that old girl of yours."

"Who?" Brett asks out of genuine confusion, but he's already brushed off the comment and dropped to his knees.

"I don't know. Don't care either," Axel sneers, "Just get started. Haven't blown a load all day."

The faint sound of repetitive gagging echoes out of the house as the front door slams shut. It seems like my work here is done.

The football gang will enjoy having a very willing bro to take care of all their needs, and Brett will do it with a genuine smile on his face. That friend of yours is a free woman, so I suggest she find something fulfilling to do with her life. Brett may be trapped in another marriage, but she sure as hell isn't!

Hope you liked how I handled your problem!

[siremasterlawrence]

Fairy Tale: The Nerd & The Himbo

My best friend his name is Chris Carmack he is visiting me at my house after living away for a year and after because he isso glad to see me as he comes in with that overly sized white body.My god he is so massively built like a tank I always wanted to covet him for the long term, actually for life because he is so darn fucking hot and I walk in to the kitchen to get us both a drink.

As he talks for a bit I turn my back digging in to my pocket reaching for a two packets of various crushed pills, I undo them slipping them in to a can of soda as I seal the can back up shaking it intensely.It is to my delight to see him open it quickly as it burst in to the air spilling all over him as he begins to crack up in a fit of laughter at himself and of course unfortunately for him he is left at a stand still unable to calm his own self back to reality.

“How embarrassing for me huh? Too funny “

“You seem light hearted?”

“Do I? Hahaha “

“Here goes nothing “

“What? Haha”

“Take off your clothes! You are soaking wet”

“Yeah! You are correct! Duh!”

“No duh! Obviously! You don’t need them and put them in the wash”

“Thanks man! I must be high or something “

“Or something”

“Did you say something?”

“Hurry up!”

“Sure motherfucker”

“How well do you know me?”

“We are best friends”

“True! Well! I am a dominant “

“I am a Hypnotist”

“I am super hot!”

“Well bro! Why are you reminding me?”

“Stating facts”

“You bro! You are my nerd”

“then submit to me and be mine “

“Naturally! I want to do as you say”

“Those pills do wonders! I am glad I did not give up on them “

“How may I be of use?”

“Put these glasses on and these headphones on”

“Yes bro! What ffffoooorrrr”

I am fully dedicated to taking advantage of him because according to every damn guy and girl except for the weird exceptions I am not good enough and yes is it cruel totally but whatever. I sly walk to the side do my long length side mirror across the room guiding him to follow me, be at my side as he does so effortlessly his body is towering over my with his godly physique.

His mind could never match mine at all due to his self a battle do wills could ensue if I let it but I won’t ever let him go free even again he mind now and soon he will always have been mine.No questions asked! He stares blankly in to the mirror awaiting my commands I smirk a bit admiring his body as I take my time to be able to decipher what is possible and it is not like he cares.

“Ok Chris! Are you ready for your ultimate transformation?”

“Into what bro?”

“It’s Master Lawrence “

“Sir Yes Master Lawrence Sir”

“SLEEP”

“YES”

“I want you cum what’s left of my best friend out”

“On my orders”

“Yes Master”

“You will cum when you wake up”

“Yes Master…”

“Wake up “

“Ooooohhhhh”

“Uuuuuuggggghhhh”

“Aaaaahhhhhh”

“Ffffuuuuuccccckkkkk”

“Yes yes yes”

“Yyyyyeeeesssss”

“Mmmmmmpppphhhh”

“WOAH!”

“Hey Master”

“I am not confused”

“Let me know “

“Did we use to be friends?”

“Can I be your pool boi?”

“Yeah jump in”

“Hell yes!”

“Woohoo”

“God! I feel…I feel”

“Free”

“And?”

“Alive”

“Happy “

“You took it out of my mouth “

“Literally “

“I knew we were close “

“Yes we use to be “

“I don’t understand”

“I forced this on you “

“Did you hypnotize me?”

“You are kidding “

“I thought!”

“I am sorry “

“For what?”

“I am confused now”

“I love you “

“Because I made you “

“You also helped me see the light “

“Well that is a non intended benefit”

“I was rigid “

“Awful! Kind of”

“I get it! I was a…”

“A asshole “

“A jerk “

“You saved me”

“You are my man “

“My light and my life”

The end

[the-muppet-joker]

I must admit, though shamefully, that I didn't believe you at first. What an ignorant heretic I was. How silly, I thought, that the second first man born unto God would choose such a humble place to spread his sermons. I've been so jaded in this awful life that I've rejected the one true light twinkling out past the darkness. This all-consuming black hole inside me...((Like a muppet hole)) No, no, no, no not like -((Are you so dissimilar to a toy? A muppet with a hollow inside where his creator's hand fits? I'm puppeting you right now and I'm telling you dude - there is a whole lot of empty in here.)) Why do I feel so ashamed? These thoughts are horrible.

((You know what's happening. You're just in denial.))

I remember the first time I saw the Muppets like I remember the first time my father hugged me (9). It shocked me to my core and I had this indescribable feeling- a feeling I can now put words to; This show was going to change the course of my life. I watched in awe as the be-felted people sung and danced. The songs felt like gospel in my young mind. I even tolerated the female Muppets because they were funny. All except one it turns out. Kermit was performing on stage and my life was reaching a peek. My soul was ablaze and my hole was being filled. And then this PIG walks on stage. Ms. Piggy was the definition of a 10/10 femoid in the looks department. Then this bimbo pig walks right up to Kermie and starts flirting with him. I think I must have blacked out the second she open her shrill mouth because the next thing I remember I'm staring down at my bloodied hands. The TV laid in a parking heap on the living room floor. I thought I could hear something coming from the TV, a whisper beneath the sparking and the now growing fire...muppet hole. The TV was undeniably glitching out and repeating the words muppet hole. No, it wasn't just the TV, it was a particular voice. Kermit.

((You saved Kermit from Ms. piggy)) No I didn't. I broke down, caused property damage, and had to skip summer camp for therapy. ((You were chosen)) For what? Almost burning down my house. Half of my hometown thinks I'm an arsonist. ((It is your role to burn every trace of pig flesh. Like a hog on a spit, rotating before the eyes of hungry horrors that lay just outside the fire's haze. She will know what it means to sacrifice your flesh to a smiling God)) Ok I understand.

Last night, laying in a puddle of congealing orange Faygo (huge bender), this memory came rushing back to me. I asked myself if my hole was filled. I checked and couldn't tell. After cleaning up I tried asking God if my hole was filled. He told me the answers I seek lay within my own mind. As a Maid of Mind I can dive really deep into my own mind. I used my ascended god tier powers to travel to the farthest recesses of my subconscious and find the answer for myself.

The further I descended the darker everything became.I panicked and tried to escape but hit a wall. Oh God, is this how I die? Trapped within my own mind, forced to suffer my sick, evil thoughts until my physical body perished? ((Keep moving)) I suddenly felt completely calm. I turned and kept walking. I soon realized that I was in a hallway. I could see a figure emerge in a sudden flash of light and I ran towards it for what felt like millennia. This invader of the mind had a dominant stance, with arms straight out to the sides as if to say ((come at me bro)).

Suddenly I was face to face with. Oh. ((Now do you understand?)) I do. Before me stood God, ie Dirk Strider. (If you're a monotheist Homestuck kin I'm sorry for the exclusionary language as Homestuck *can be read as a monotheistic work. I am just trying to express my religious views so my interpretation of the scripture is limited to my own experience. Sorry (⁠๑⁠•⁠﹏⁠•). God fist bumped me like a real bro and popped open a fresh bottle of orange Faygo to wash my feet with.

I can't write out the feet washing scene because I have a foot fetish. Let's just say it was very enjoyable for both of us although I don't think it was sexual for him. Was hard to tell through God's trademark dark sunglasses.

((You are my son, my child, my blood. Skin and bone but just as precious as the hand-sewn Smuppets. I have built from the clay just as my maker has built me from mud. We are Earth, we are space, we are transcending the roots. Together we will seed the universe and live out our Godhood.)).

How will we seed the universe?

((We must destroy Ms.Piggy so she can't hold Kermit down with her dumb feminine ways. Every snort from her is like a vast oink that pulls the threads of the universe apart farther, and farther. She is a force of chaos and having her so close to Kermit is limiting his potential to ascend. Kermit is one of my splinter selves and if he can't ascend I might lose narrative relevance altogether))

WELL THEN HOW DO I HELP YOU! PLEASE LET ME HELP YOU REACH YOUR TRUE POTENTIAL BY BRINGING DOWN THIS HOG. But I have one concern? How do I do it? My abilities aren't primarily combat based. How can I bring down nigh infinite incarnations of this foul swine?

((Muppet hole))

I woke up(?) in a puddle of sweat building over the now fully congealed Faygo puddle. I felt a purpose in my limbs as they moved easily like the wooden arms of a marionette. I felt full, fulfilled. I have found my purpose and my master. I HAVE FOUND SALVATION.

I've spent the past week going to every store on the bus route, 1 by 1, and defacing any evidence of Ms.Piggy. I cross out her name in big black sharpie and write religious seals on the pages of the magazines. I steal the dolls, replace the heads with different heads, and put them back. I even go to the grocery stores and cross out all the ham/pork labels on the meats. I've been replacing them with labeled that say things like "smile at your true god" and simply "flesh".

I do this all in the service of a god that is now crystalizing in my mind. And the sharper the image gets the closer it looks like Kermit's crusty hole. Amen.

Finally someone fucking understands

[turbotasthick]

TURBOS RATES ATTRACTIVENESS: THE VILLAINS

Im bored and i want to rate villains via how sexy they are. I will only be doing TSAMS AND LAES :3 (it will be unbiased.)

i will be ranking their Sexiness to these factors:

appearance AND hygiene i will be UNBIASED. (ill try mY BEST) (tell me who i missed so i will add)

LETS BEGIN:

NEXUS: 10/10 He has the body of your average model. he has that sterotypical bimbo build dudes salvate over. Hes got big tits, a grabbable waist and an ass for days. 5

His hygiene is great. I know he has constantly having to make repairs and general maintainence on himself because of the nsp fucking his systems up- thats why he has to be careful, and be neat and clean. 5

Hes a little crazy, but thats what makes people HOT imo

LORD ECLIPSE: 10/10 muscular build. Body of a warrior. Hes tall, hes intimidating-- looms over you if that isnt hot then i dont know what is! His fashion sense is also-- quite litterally beautiful armour.... 5

his hygiene must be impeccable. his ego dosent allow him to stoop so low to smell bad im ngl. his standards for cleanliness is much more higher then sun. 5

smart mouthed, sassy, bitch. Powerful. mother fucking top energy? hot. 10/10

DARK SUN: 10/10 he has that triangular shape ahh build- a TWINK if you will. tall, dark red eyes- do i HAVE to explain?....and his FASHION?? SUITS, VESTS, TIES? it is very attractive, very clean, neat, and professional-- its giving 50s male office worker, its giving office siren... 5

i think this sun takes care of himself really GOOD. Since his moon isnt there to boss him around and pressure him- i think he sometimes even puts perfume (NOT AXE BODY SPRAY FUCK YOU) 5

honestly??? quiet, calculating, liar AND manipulative? thats something straight out of some horror romance or some shit 10/10

FELIX: 6/10 he has the beauty of a biblically accurate angel. honestly? golden skin, a halo? and modest draped clothes-- hello? hes a pretty boy honestly...but some people could see him as intimidating so i have to say 4

hygiene... hes a scientist and a very loyal dog to the creator. i think he would be a bit too busy looking after his hygiene...until the creator would call him out. i will say 2

BLOODMOON (new): -3/10 he looks very CUTE but not HOT. his big head and large smile makes him look cute. his hypno eyes are UNIQUE. His fashion sense is a mess... ugly clothes- i know he wouldnt care what he wears as long as it covers himself up- and its not even in a fashionable way. i give him a 2 (he has points for being cute ill give him that ) all this bitch cares about is blood. i feel like he would LOVE being stained in blood, and refuse to wash his clothes, brush his teeth- and scrub his body, so long as he can smell blood and engulfed in blood. I give him -5. im sorry bm simps. BLOODMOON (og): -2 HE LOOKS REALLY CUTE. however hes short....but he has good proportions unlike his newer version. great smile, however fashion? litterally just those pants. baggy shit. ugly way. i give him a 3. same thing. the shittiest hygiene. -5 ECLIPSE (OG): 10/10 TALL DARK AND HANDSOME. i like to think he dresses pretty amazing cause he has a big ego and to show off hed wear stuff like suit and ties. honestly? 5 hygiene is decent in my opinion. 5 LUNAR (when he was a villain): 6/10 he has that cute short boy factor. light blue- its giving uwu soft baby vibes...but honestly he had such a weird color palette. i think ill give him a 3 for this hygiene....i think its more better then current lunar. cause look: eclipse WOULD force him to clean himself so ill give him a 3 THE CREATOR: -5/10 hes a brain. 0 why the fuck would you put soap and water on a brain? wouldnt that licherally fucking harm him? and hes a scientist who only ever cares about his intelligence. bro has not touched a deodarant stick in years. -5

RUIN: 9/10 he has that shawty vibe. like- hes short but i think he has a cute butt (im actually fucking serious. he is the type to have a cute looking butt) i think his fashion is cute... however tbfh i hate that his hat makes him look half bald. its a 4 for me he has decent hygiene, ngl. i think im giving him a 5 EVIL LUNAR: 5/20 its kinda giving cute? he seems like those types of guys who wear cute frilly lolita stuff and honestly thats CUTE not HOT tho. however im giving him a 3. (i minused points cause his color palettes ugly ngl) i think he has poor hygiene but not as poor as our lunar. im giving it a 2 EVIL EARTH: 10/10 OK. IM NGL. I THINK HER FASHION IS ON FLEEK. ITS GIVING OFFICE SIREN ITS GIVING ELLE WOODS. ITS GIVING PANTSUITS. shes HOT NGL. AND TALL. SO 5 WHOLE HEARTEDLY. 5 shes the type to take care of herself- the type to do self care days. manicure, pedicures, the whole shebang. i give her a 5

[randxmthxughts]

You'll be a great dad - Tsu'tey one-shot

summary: tsu'tey is overwhelmed with anxiety and fear upon hearing the news of his mate's pregnancy and becoming a father, but like a good friend, jake is there to calm him down

wc: 1.3k

contains: just reader being pregnant, jake and tsu'tey are bros

a/n: ahh, i missed writing so much, i had to post another fluff today. esp after finishing the unrequited series, i can't let go of tsu'tey and the idea of dad!tsu'tey, so you must suffer with me. replies and reblogs are requireeed

masterlist

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Tsu’tey paced around the lab with a concerned look on his face, making Jake feel slightly dizzy. It was already chaotic enough with the kids running around and touching everything they weren’t supposed to, so Tsu’tey’s restlessness only added to Jake’s headache.

“Tsu’tey, for the love of God, can you please sit down?” he asked tiredly, running a hand through his hair.

Tsu’tey shot him an angry glare, but eventually complied and slowed his frenzied pacing. He sank onto an empty bed beside Jake, his eyes glazing over as he absentmindedly watched Lo’ak drag Kiri by her kuru, eliciting a high-pitched squeak from her. The bickering between the kids and Jake’s raised voice attempting to separate them faded into the background as Tsu’tey's mind raced with worry for you. Something wasn't right. 

It had been two days since you decided to be a little adventurous and try some of the sky people's food, egged on by Jake. Tsu’tey had warned you to stay away from it, but as you disobeyed, you were suffering the consequences that same night, and the night after that. And it wasn’t going away, which made Tsu’tey grow increasingly frightened.

You had a restless night, tossing and turning with waves of nausea until you finally vomited early in the morning. Tsu’tey couldn’t help but snicker at you for not heeding his warnings, and lectured you about how nothing good came from the sky people and that you should have known better. But when the vomiting persisted into the next day, his amusement quickly washed away making place for worry. He insisted that you saw Tsahik, but despite her doubts, it was still too early to tell anything. So, when Jake suggested taking you to the lab, with no other options left, Tsu’tey reluctantly agreed. He didn’t trust it, but he was desperate to see you back on your feet and sleeping soundly beside him at night.

“Why are they taking her blood?” he asked protectively, as he glared through the glass window into the room where you were seated, your arm extended and a needle piercing your skin. 

“To run a few tests, figure out what’s wrong,” Jake explained with a calm voice, placing a comforting hand on Tsu’tey’s shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, it’s normal.”

Tsu’tey hummed but it wasn’t like he could calm his nerves. Time seemed to drag on endlessly as they kept you in the back room, running test after test. And even seated next to Jake, Tsu’tey couldn’t stop tapping his foot in annoyance. His eyes wandered over to the three kids, Neteyam, Lo’ak, and Kiri, who were playing around with one of the large machines. They were pressing buttons that didn’t light up like on the other equipment, and Tsu’tey smiled weakly, assuming that it must not be working.

“Lo’ak, play nice,” Jake warned his youngest, then turned to look at Tsu’tey, “I swear, ever since he was born, I started finding gray hair all over my head.”

“At the rate he’s going, you’ll be back with Eywa in no time,” Tsu’tey joked for the first time in a day, “Give it a few more years.”

“Be careful what you wish for, buddy. If that happens, you'll have to step up and help Neytiri with the kids as their uncle,” Jake chuckled with an amused tone.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” Tsu’tey grinned, “I’ll make sure those little monsters learn how to hunt properly. Not the way their daddy taught them.”

Jake rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement. Their banter was cut short when Norm walked into the room with a quick, “Good, you guys are still here.” Immediately, Tsu’tey rose to his feet, his ears and tail perked up in alert. Jake stood up too, eyeing the thick folder in Norm’s hands.

"What is wrong with her? Is she alright?" Tsu’tey asked with a frown, urging Norm to speak.

“Yes, she is alright, don’t worry," Norm answered calmly, bringing a slight relief to the two men, "We got her blood work back, ran some tests, and everything is normal."

“Where is she?”

“She's in the back room, taking a nap,” Norm shrugged, “She was exhausted, so we let her rest for a while.” “Yes, she hasn’t slept for two nights,” Tsu’tey grumbled in annoyance.

“Was it food poisoning?” Jake interjected.

Norm tensed up slightly, biting the inside of his cheek, as if he was holding back information. Tsu’tey and Jake exchanged a look, waiting for Norm to continue.

“No, not food poisoning,” he finally answered, “But it’s better if she knows first.”

“Talk,” Tsu’tey ordered with a stern voice, not known to tolerate any ambiguity. Especially not when it concerned your health.

“I’ll have to talk to her, it’s kind of personal,” Norm said sheepishly.

“Spill it,” the man took a step closer, his tone intimidating. Jake rushed to step in between the two, placing a hand on Norm’s shoulder to defuse the tension.

“What is it, Norm?”

“Nothing’s wrong, it's just that I think she should be the first to know...” he trailed off.

“Oh,” Jake’s face lit up with realization, “Is she…?”

Norm nodded, backing away from Tsu’tey.

“What? What's going on?” Tsu’tey demanded, growing more agitated by the second.

“I think he means that Y/N is pregnant,” Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

Tsu’tey looked in between them a few times, struggling to process the information. He turned to Norm again, pointing at the papers in his hands.

“So, is she healthy?”

“Yes, everything looks good,” Norm said, “Congratulations, man.”

“You’re going to be a dad,” Jake chimed in, squeezing Tsu’tey’s shoulders with an encouragement. 

Content with Norm’s answer that you were alright, Tsu’tey hardly registered anything else past that. The men stared at him in anticipation to say something, anything, about your pregnancy, but Tsu’tey remained silent, unable to form a coherent response.

“Well, aren’t you happy?” Jake nudged him.

“About what?”

“About Y/N being pregnant?” Jake let out a chuckle of disbelief.

Tsu’tey frowned, taking a seat on the bed again. His mind was in a whirlwind of thoughts at the news, chest tightening with anxiety of becoming a father. The distant screams of the Sully kids were like the high-pitched screeches of Toruk to his ears, only adding to the panic he felt. He was not ready to be responsible for a new life, and there were so many things to prepare. 

Norm mumbled something about checking on you, and Jake nodded before taking a seat next to his friend. While it was unusual to see Tsu'tey so zoned out, Jake could understand how scary the thought might have seemed to him.

“Aren’t you happy? I’m sure you thought about having kids with Y/N before.”

“I have,” Tsu’tey confirmed with a nod.

“Then this shouldn't be as much of a surprise to you, right? I mean, if you didn’t hold back…” Jake teased with a knowing smile.

“You and your disgusting sky people talk,” he spat in annoyance.

“But seriously, man, it might seem scary but it’s actually not,” Jake gestured at his kids, who were now occupied with Grace’s old diary logs, “All you have to do is keep them fed and play with them a couple of times a day, and they’re happy. And once they stop breastfeeding, they might even notice that they have a dad too.”

Tsu’tey smiled at his words weakly, grateful for the reassurance. Sure, he was still anxious about messing it up and not being a good father, but he couldn’t help the excitement starting to bubble up in his chest. 

“I mean, even my kids like you, so I think you’ll be a great dad, Tsu’tey,” Jake patted his shoulder with a toothy grin, “And Y/N will be a wonderful mother. Seriously, your kid would be lucky to have you two as parents.” “Thank you, Jake Sully,” Tsu’tey stood up with a sparkle in his eyes, “I’ll go find her.”

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

taglist (let me know if you want to be added): @bigdikzaddy @awriana @scarletrosesposts @abbersreads @mechformers @my-love-of-books @avatarbyamara @robin-the-enby @minjix @nilrilie @jakes-babygirl @grierpilots @suntizme @jakesully-sbabygirl @mechformers @lovedbychoi @netemoon @live-laugh-neteyam @jakesullylongjuiscyshlong @misscaller06 @darkacademictrash @itszmedawn @arminsgfloll @kireysii @crustskullz

[nightwriter357]

Are you just playing with me? - Day 2

This is part two, part one can be found on my page. The story is starting to to get a bit spicier. You won't understand much without reading part 1.

Warning: SMUT(18), can't really write it all but it includes smut and would not be enjoyd if you're not into that.

Morning

You woke up with slick spread over your inner thighs. Some of it was newer, from your dream last night and some of it was from earlier, when you were putting on a show using your very real desire for Damien. He seemed affected it, by your words, your touch. You thought of all the things you could do to him today, all the things you picked up on during the years that you knew he was into. But you wanted to know more..

You threw a shirt and went to take a shower and wash all of your juices away from your body. You couldn't help yourself from closing your eyes and let your fingers travel over your body, wishing that it was Damiens hands that squeezed your breasts, grabbed at your as and plunged fingers deep inside of you.

You got out, wrapped a towel around yourself, grabbed your stuff and opened the bathroom door. You almost headbutted Damien on the way out causing you to drop your panties on the floor. Your wet panties. He instinctively went to pick them up and then frooze when he noticed what it was.

" I.. uh.. didn't think.. I just.." he said. As he paused you noticed him dragging his thumb across the wet spot. He looked at you and smiled. "So you had as much fun as I had last night I see." He said in a smug voice.

Oh shit. Was this real? Or did he get your name last night, was he just acting horny? You felt you might as well step it up. As he tried to hand the panties back to you you closed his hand around them.

" They're for you, I wanted you to know how wet you make me" you said, not breaking eye contact.

" you're so fucking hot y/n" he responded, still with a firm grip around your panties.

Spencer came up from behind Damien and before you could react he blurted out " Haha I got you, Damien I'm horny for y/n, I am so gonna win this game. But please bro, can you downplay it a bit so everyone doesn't figure it out. Damien nodded and went into the bathroom with your panties in his hand.

If it turns out he had your name you can just play it of as you both got way into the game. But if he doesn't have you, He must actually be into you. Is there a way I can figure it out? you thought to yourself. There is only one person who has your name, they might not have horny aswell but the should be attemting to showcase some feeling against you. Nobody stuck out yet.. but is that just because you've only beem paying attention to Damien?

Evening

"Okey to tonight's game is based around a little slide show. If you like it you take a sip, got it?" Courtney said looking around the room seeing everybody nodding back at her. "Let's begin". She winked at you.. Did she do this for you?

A woman wearing a full leather bodysuit with a zipper along the mouth showed up on the screen.

"nooo, broo, come on" you heard Angela cry out at Spencer took a big sip from his drink "just joking" he said with a sly smile on his face. "ye right" Chance clapped back.

As the pictures went up on the screen you observed Damian to see what made him drink.

Dom/sub

*sip*

You weren't suprised ever since the video of him interviewing more of his exes you were pretty sure what he said about being a soft dom was true. He was so kind and soft with his words you imagined he would be the same in the bedroom.

Biting

*sip*

You knew this from the same video, where he had said he was into biting but didn't want to hurt his partner. He was SOO a soft dom. He even said it again in another video with Angela when she was acting possesed and try to bite him: I'm usally into this sort of stuff. Why was he reaveling stuff like this, was it for someone? was it for you?

*Scratching*

Pet names

*sip*

Edging

*sip*

Age play

*sip*

This was new. You could totally se yourself playing into this. Telling him to be gentle with you, touching his cock like you've never touched one before. Maybe you could tease him, take control to make him punish you later.

Okay game on. You spilled the rest of your drink over yourself on purpose. There wasn't much left since you've taken a zip everytime that Damien has. " Oh no I'm going to have to go and change, excuse me" you said and went back into your room. You found just what you were looking for, a short skirt that flared out a bit, it was about as school girl that you could go without doing a whole Britney Spears look. You put your hair up leaving your neck bare with a low cut pink crop top on top. Lastly you took off your underwear.

He had waited outside your room for you leaning against the doorframe.

" I was wondering what you were gonna come out wearing" he looked down at your breasts, seeing your nipples through the thin material made him flinch " or not wear" he looked down to your skirt. "Oh, almost forgot my glass" while his eyes were still fixated on your skirt you bent down to grab your phone and revealed what you had on under your skirt, oir rather didn't have on.

"oh jesus" he exclaimed " your not wearing any fucking panties?" " I can't daddy" you said in your most innocent voice " you took them remember?"

" You are playing a very dangerous game with me sweetheart" he said his eyes darting all over your body not knowing which part to focus on. You looked at him and smiled "Teasing" then look a last sip from your glass.

[gumnut-logic]

Blossom

Have some weird fic. Vaguely FishTank, mostly brothers. I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy loved living on a tropical island. It was warm and the air was clean. The ocean was their constant companion with its moods and fickle ways, its colours ever so vibrant.

The blues went on forever.

But there was one thing he missed on the plains of Kansas.

Ironically it wasn’t even the correct time to miss what he missed. The blossoms of Kansas bloomed in March and April. Here in the southern hemisphere it was the complete opposite end of the year.

Perhaps he was connected to his ecosystem more than he realised? Because every August he got tetchy.

Today was a perfect example. He really shouldn’t have bitten Gordon’s head off like that. The Fish meant well…most of the time. Virgil was just short tempered.

Of course, Gordon hadn’t helped his case by declaring ‘the bear has just awoken from hibernation, Island beware!’

It took all of Virgil’s restraint to prevent himself from clapping his brother up the head.

Which only proved the point.

Because somewhere further south of the Island, the seasons were rolling slowly into spring, and yes, it was that time of year when in Kansas, after being mostly confined during winter, he itched to get out.

The fact he lived in the tropics and there were no seasons was obviously ridiculously irrelevant.

So, today, rather than biting heads off brothers, he hiked up to the top of Tracy Peak and stood in the ocean breeze staring south.

He couldn’t get more ‘out’ than that.

Even in the tropics, up this high, the wind was brisk, cold, and biting through his flannel shirt.

It was invigorating.

The little Gordon at the back of his brain shook his head and facepalmed.

He owed his little brother an apology.

Cloud was skittering along the distant horizon to the south. Down that way lay the island chain of the Kermadecs eventually culminating in Aotearoa.

Now there was a temperate zone that knew how to throw a blossoming spring. He would admit to having visited Hawkes Bay just last year for that exact reason.

Fields of blossom in spring and fruit in the summer.

He must have lost himself in the moment, because he was suddenly startled by a roar.

Spinning on the spot, he looked down to see his ‘bird lift off her runway and take to the air. If his heart hadn’t emergency responded in reflex, it would have been a magic moment. It was rare to see her launch without him.

He grabbed his collar. “Thunderbird Five, what’s the situation?”

“Hold your horses, grumpy bear, no situation. I’m coming to you.” Gordon’s voice was light and cheerful and not Thunderbird Five.

“Gordon!”

But as he watched, his ‘bird arced out over the ocean in a perfect turn and headed back towards Tracy Peak…where Virgil was standing.

“Gordon, what are you doing?”

Before his brother could answer, Two came to a hover above him, her VTOL washing away the cold wind and replacing it with roaring warmth.

Her belly opened and the rescue rig lowered down towards Virgil. “Hop aboard, bear boy.”

Virgil’s eyebrows collided and crumpled up. But he stepped onto the rig without saying another word. He triggered the return signal and watched as Tracy Peak drifted away below.

The hatch swallowed him up and before the rig settled, he was off and moving, running towards the cockpit.

He was greeted with a Gordon holding his hands up like Virgil was holding a gun. “It’s cool, bear bro, I’m just taking you for a little ride.” Virgil managed to frown even more. Gordon rolled his eyes. “In style, I must say. Sit back and we’ll be there momentarily.” He sat back down in the pilot’s seat and place his hand on the yoke.

“Where? And why are you flying my ‘bird.”

“Orders from on high, Thunderbird Two. Courtesy of ‘too busy’ Scott and ‘rolling his eyes’ Johnny. You did it this time and the leadership team declared you on downtime.” Virgil opened his mouth, but was cut off by Gordon holding up a finger. “Under orders, growly bear. I’m taking you south so you can go find a fruit tree and hug it.”

Virgil flopped onto the co-pilot’s seat. “Gordon-“

“Yes, that be my name, don’t bear it out.”

Two accelerated and Virgil was forced to sit back and strap in. Both Scott and John were going to get feedback on the matter.

“We really don’t have time for this.”

Gordon snorted. “Hence the Thunderbird, grumble-butt. Be there in no time, respond just as fast if we need to.”

Virgil found his arm crossed tight across his chest.

He forced them to uncross and his shoulders to relax.

Aotearoa crept over the horizon and within moments they were circling in above what appeared to be a farm.

“Where are we?”

“Aotearoa, der.”

“Whose farm, Fish-brain?”

“Friend of Johnny’s, source of those honeyed almonds he threatens fratricide over.”

“Ben and Jules?”

“That would be them. He said there was a cafe and everything.” Gordon smirked at Virgil. “And they have a field of almond trees in full blossom. I’ve been directed to lock you in the orchard until you regain sanity.”

Virgil glared at him as the Fish expertly landed Virgil’s Thunderbird in the mostly empty parking lot. Even though Virgil felt like complaining, he couldn’t find anything to complain about. His little brother’s flying was perfect.

Drat it.

Yes, apparently Virgil did need to go hug a tree or something.

Scott and John were so dead.

“Off you go, butter-bear. Johnny called ahead. Ben is going to meet us out front. He’s been warned about the bear.”

“For goodness sake!”

“Eh, you shouldn’t have pissed off Johnny, yesterday, I’m just sayin’. Stew in your own pot”

Virgil watched his brother expertly go through post-flight. Again, flawlessly.

“Off you go, bear-brows, before you strain one of those eyebrow muscles of yours. Then where would we be?”

“Gordon.” But it was said without steam this time, and with a sigh, he gave in, climbing out of the co-pilot’s seat - the view from there just wasn’t right - and walking over to the hatch.

The moment he was settled, the hatch began to lower. “May the bear be with you! Or perhaps, let it go, let it go!” Gordon devolved into the Frozen soundtrack and Virgil found himself fleeing without a second thought.

His boots hit the grass and he was assailed by the scent of greenery, the buzzing of bees, and a warmth to the air that just could not be replicated in the tropics.

The farm had a central building, but off to his left was a wide gate leading into a field of blossoming almond trees.

He was drawn to it like a magnet.

Somewhere off to his right, an older man was grinning and waving him on. Virgil smiled, just a little, in his direction, and he was waved on even more eagerly.

Yes, Scott and John were very dead. Bear or no bear.

But the old man was laughing, and as Virgil made it to the gate, he vaguely registered Gordon leaping from Two’s hatchway and joining the man laughing.

Scott and John…so dead.

But the field beckoned.

The wooden gate opened with a creak, disturbing bees and butterflies. The wind that had been ruffling Virgil’s hair on Tracy Peak, was now little more than a breeze rustling flower petals. Every now and again, a single petal would break loose and flutter to the vivid green grass below.

Birds darted about in bare branches, shaking more petals loose.

It gave the field the surrealism of another world.

The bees hummed and buzzed in their bazillions.

Virgil took a deep breath, as if he could breathe it all in.

Yes, maybe he would hug a tree, and then fall asleep under it in the sun.

He could kill his brothers later.

-o-o-o-

[jade-kyo]

Season 17 post restoration thoughts

Casually skipping 16 and going straight to 17 because lord knows I can’t afford to lose anymore braincells. I genuinely enjoy this season so I’m looking forward to the rewatch!

Ngl jumping straight from 15 to 17 really highlights how absurd this is like bro why is there gods and shit omg 😂

The fates are racist- that explains a lot

Donut my sweet baby boy

You know as much as I hate time travel stories this works way better for a “lets reference and call back to as many previous arcs and seasons as possible” nostalgia trip than Restoration did

Okay while I personally prefer the take that Donut is fully aware of all the innuendos he makes and is doing it to be a little shit I do think it being unintentional is really funny considering the ace Donut thing

“You have me all wrong” “I doubt it.” Donut the master at not getting gaslit

Donut knows Wash’s name is David- meaning Wash must have told all the reds and blues his real name

JESUS CHRIST DONT KILL JUNIOR

Felix is afraid of knives

Man I love it when Dr. Grey sounds like herself

We love insurance fraud

DONUT WASH TEAM UP MY BELOVED

Wash just silently shooting Donut again has me wheezing holy shit

The Wash and Carolina conflict is so freaking good man I love them

Man this season is just genuinely entertaining to watch despite everything- the way I wish we could’ve gotten this character writing with a better story

Oh what’s that a way to reference back to all the freelancers that includes Wyoming and the triplets. The concepts are wild again.

Also it’s just genuinely hilarious

WASH SCREAMING INSIDE HIS HELMET

DELTA OMG I FORGOT HE WAS IN THIS SEASON

I need to find the ost for when Wash and Carolina reunite and she’s saying how she trusts him and doesn’t know why bro this music is so pretty

Seriously I’m enjoying this as a nostalgia trip so much more than restoration

Oh I can feel my inner 15 year old desperately trying to take control of my body and send me down the carwash pipeline again holy shit- platonic or romantic. They’re good either way 🙂

OH GOD THE CABOOSE FEELS AGAIN THIS SHOULD BE ILLEGAL

Kai I love you with all my heart and soul but you do not disrespect Junior like that

STOP BEING MEAN TO DONUT HE IS DOING HIS BEST

Yes Caboose IS a genius and also my son

Kai messing with Tucker is glorious holy shit is that bit funny I love them

“Time is made of circles” what a nice, funny and succinct callback. Look at those concepts being wild.

Not Tucker dropping the “your mom” bit on Doc AGSKHAKS

HELL YEAH DONUT YOU FUCKING TELL THEM THATS MY BABY BOI!!!

PINK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Wash might be a competitor with Church for number one Donut Stan

Or simulation headcanon: Church is projecting his liking of Donut onto Wash

Okay but Donut should be in the caves not under the pelican FR PEOPLE STOP FORGETTING ABOUT THE CAVES!!!

Laughs in Spanish

I love competent Caboose and Donut

“My testicles send their regards” has no right being as badass as it is

Love a good Tucker moment- sure wish it wasn’t just redoing his character development that never should’ve been undone to begin with

OKAY BUT TUCKER AND DONUT MOMENT THO???? So good- can’t believe Donut is the “angsty bitch”

WASH AND CAROLINA AKDHAKBSKSHSKDHK

Love them talking about the AI like they’re Carolina’s siblings

Holy shit the voice acting between these two is so good

“If he’s single there’s no hope for any of us” sargington nation rise

Sarcastic Donut my beloved

I said this last time but seeing Church impaled by a golf club, even if it is actually Genkins, is entirely unnecessary bro I don’t wanna see that

THE LABYRINTH!!!

GOD CAROLINA VS CAROLINA AGAJSHKAH FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

Sarges vision is further proof that the correct ending for him is retirement

OKAY I STILL HATE THE LOPEZ VISION LISTEN I GET HE COMES BACK BUT ITS JUST IN POOR TASTE

“Don’t say toodles” LOVE sassy Donut so much

DOC BADASS MOMENT LETS GO

GRIF SIBLINGS MY BELOVED

Grif enlisted reveal you will always be famous to me

I never actually thought about it too deeply before but now that I am holy shit do I love that detail it’s so good and actually reminds me of my own brother who enlisted for similar reasons and regrets it now- seriously Grif enlisting is so realistic, a lot of kids sadly think the military is the only thing that can give them structure and purpose. It’s a great addition to the anti military themes of RvB

And yet- despite all these good red team moments- THEY FUCKING TURNED SIMMONS INTO A PENIS JOKE???? AND A BAD ONE AT THAT?????? COME ON S17 I THOUGHT YOU WERE BETTER THAN THIS THATS SOME S16 NONSENSE

TUCKER CANONICALLY HAS PANIC ATTACKS- the fact they kept his visions so vague is truly a CRIME

“Still got my penis” “what-“ GOD DAMN IT THAT ONE WAS ACTUALLY FUNNY COME ON I WAS TRYING TO MAKE A POINT EARLIER

AND WE DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO CABOOSE- honestly I know they probably didn’t have this arc planned back then but they should’ve used the labyrinth for Caboose to find closure in Church’s death rather than the Time Machine nonsense in s15. I feel like that would’ve been infinitely more interesting.

Carolina vs Carolina MY BELOVED HOLY SHIT I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH

OH FUCK THE FREELANCER TRAINING ROOM IM AKDHKAHSKSH THIS SHIT IS SO GOOD

GIGGLING KICKING MY FEET WE LOVE THE POWER OF FRIENDSHIP

Caboose gets it!!

GOD THE SLOW PIANO COVER OF BLOOD GULCH BLUES I CANT

AAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHH

Man what nice fairly satisfying conclusions to everyone’s arc- don’t we love wild concepts.

Sure maybe it’s not anything super poetic or perfect like 13 but at least it makes sense

Hell I’ve even warmed up to Donut leaving! Bro deserves some him time and it’s not like he said it was permanent or anything… doesn’t that just really hit you in the wild concept 🙂

You know what- this season is genuinely such a delight at times. Im thinking about adding it to my regular rewatch list along with 1-13 as just like a little bonus I can have at the end cause it’s just such fun. Glorified fanfiction! We love to see it- maybe Restoration sucking was a blessing in disguise cause it really gave me a new appreciation for 15 and 17 (but 17 especially). I probably won’t rewatch 15 as much cause being honest I don’t really enjoy it in its entirety as much as 17 but it’s got good moments I love.

Now- I know the logical thing for me to do is go back and watch 16 and then Restoration but here’s the thing… I don’t want to.

I genuinely do not enjoy those seasons. I don’t want to put myself through something that’s just gonna make me angry and bitter just for the sake of giving commentary on them- not right now anyway. Maybe one day I’ll feel like being a bit salty and do it but that’s just really not how I want to spend my time with my favorite show. I’ve already rewatched any clips from restoration that I cared to rewatch and I don’t think any of my feelings on it are gonna change. And I’ve seen 16 enough times to know my feelings won’t change.

Now what I am considering doing is rewatching 1-13 for the 20th time (<- accurate number, I’ve kept count over the years) and continuing to do these thought posts cause they’re good fun to do! So who knows whenever the time comes you’ll probably have to deal with more of my insane ramblings 😂

[yourlittlelovebug]

Mac x Dennis

IASIP

Feeding/Weight Gain

“I don’t know Mac, you’re looking a little small,” Dennis says, sparing Mac’s body a glance one day as they sit at the bar together.

“Really bro?” Mac’s eyebrows crease with concern, “I feel like I’ve been working out a lot and-“

“But you’re doing all cardio, you gotta put on some bulk,” Dennis insists. He knows he’s a little more drunk than he should be, but the words flow off his tongue with such ease, as though he’s practiced them a million times before in the mirror. A simple man might need to do that, but Dennis was no simple man. He was a god, a god that could make his most devoted follower do anything he desires. He practically shivers at the thought of his power, especially when it comes to Mac.

“Alright…well then can we stop and get food on the way home?”

“Sure thing, Mac, whatever you want.”

****

“I worked so hard on this meal and you’re not even gonna finish it?”

“Dennis, I’m absolutely stuffed, I can’t eat another bite,” Mac pleads, his brown puppy dog eyes shining with shame as he meets Dennis’s disappointed expression.

“Here I am trying to be a fantastic best friend and this is the thanks I get,” Dennis snarkily replies, gesturing to the remainder of the small feast he’d prepared for Mac.

“No, no, I know how hard you worked on this bro,” Mac insists, “I’m just…full.”

Dennis walks over and places a hand on Mac’s bloated but still relatively small stomach that had been developing over the past month as he worked on bulking.

“Seems like you’ve still got some room,” Dennis murmurs, slightly rubbing the surface, not missing how Mac’s lips part and his eyes flutter in pleasure at the touch. How pathetic, he looks like he could cum just from his best friend’s hand on his stomach.

Dennis knew all about Mac’s crush on him, it had been going on since high school and it was never exactly well hidden. The way he looked at him when he thought Dennis wouldn’t notice, the way he got jealous when Dennis spent more time with a girl he was just gonna bang and then ditch along with all the other girls he had DENNIS’d. The way Mac would do absolutely anything for him if he only asked.

“Okay fine,” Mac finally agrees as he picks up his fork, “I’m sorry Dennis, I’ll finish it.” Dutifully, Mac starts plugging away again at the meal, resulting in an approving smile and nod from Dennis who then removes his hand and allows Mac to get back to work.

****

“They must have just shrunk in the wash,” Dennis says with a shrug, not even sparing a look at Mac or his jeans that refuse to button.

“Is that how that works?” Mac fiddles with the button, trying in vain to pull it closed, only squishing his small soft belly in the process.

“Yeah man, you always fuck up my laundry when you do it so I wouldn’t be surprised if you did it to yours too,” Dennis teases, not quite lightheartedly.

“It could be from all the muscle I’ve been gaining recently too,” Mac suggests with a proud smile, seemingly forgetting the task at hand.

“Yeah sure,” Dennis says with a roll of his eyes, “it’s because of how jacked you’re getting.”

“Thanks Den,” Mac says absolutely beaming before excitedly walking out of the room to go find a pair of pants that fit him.

****

“One more won’t kill you.”

“It’s starting to seem like it might,” Dee quips as she looks at Mac with disgust. “What the hell happened to you Mac? You’re getting fat as shit.”

“Shut up bird,” Mac fires back, “I’m gaining mass.”

“Exactly, Dee you wouldn’t get it you gangly, skeletal bitch,” Dennis adds on casually, “finish your tacos Mac.”

“See? Dennis gets it,” Mac attempts to say as he shoves another bite of the Mexican food into his mouth, “it’s all about bulking.” Mac punctuates his declaration with a shake of his stomach which now hangs over his jeans onto his lap, forming a slight beer belly that jiggles with any touch.

“Yeah okay weirdos,” Dee says rolling her eyes and walking away.

****

“Come on Mac, you can do it,” Dennis calls back to Mac on the stairs behind him.

The elevator in their apartment building was getting repaired today which meant they had to walk the 6 flights of stairs up to their apartment after work. Mac was huffing and puffing after three.

“I can’t,” Mac wheezes as he holds onto the rail while taking a break on the third floor, “Dennis I cant do it.”

“Well sure you can,” Dennis tells him, “what happened to my muscle man?”

“I’m just really sore from yesterdays workout,” Mac explains with one hand resting on the pot belly hanging out from the bottom of his shirt that only reaches halfway down his gut now, “that’s why this is so hard for me to do. Any other day this would be a piece of cake.”

“Speaking of cake, how about you get up to the apartment and I’ll cut you a slice of that cake from the bakery we stopped at the other day?”

Mac suddenly gets a burst of renewed energy as he nods excitedly and starts lumbering his way up the stairs again, gut jiggling with every step.

****

“Just a little bit more for me?”

“Sure Den, whatever you say,” Mac answers softly, taking another bite of the mac and cheese he helped Dennis prepare earlier that night. “Although I don’t know if this is the best for muscle gaining since it’s not protein or anything,” Mac ponders. “Dennis do you think I’m getting fat?”

“Fat?” Dennis goes absolutely dead in the face and pulls away from Mac. “Yes Mac, you’re fat.”

“What?!?” Mac jumps up off the couch, setting down the big bowl of Mac and cheese. “Why didn’t you tell me bro?”

“I didn’t think I would have to,” Dennis says with a quiet harshness, “i mean look at you. Your clothes haven’t fit in months, even now wearing extra larges you’re still barely squeezing into them.”

“But I thought it was because I was gaining muscle,” Mac says with confusion.

“God how stupid can you be?” Dennis hisses. “Does this seem like muscle to you?” He pokes Mac’s gut harshly, causing it to wobble. “Do you think you can’t go up a flight of stairs without wheezing because you’re gaining muscle? No Mac,” Dennis murmurs, pushing Mac down onto the couch, “you’re fat. You’re fucking huge, but isn’t that what you wanted?”

“No…no I didn’t want-“

“Don’t lie to me Mac. You always wanted to be so big and strong and look where your greed got you. You practically ate out of the palm of my hand every day,” Dennis grabs the abandoned bowl of mac and cheese and starts feeding it to Mac’s almost resistant lips, “you’ve eaten yourself out of all your clothes and any semblance of fitness. You stuff yourself constantly and can barely fit into the booths at the bar anymore, and now you wanna complain about the pig you’ve become? No Mac, you’re not stopping now,” he tells him darkly.

“But why?” Mac is able to get those two words out before Dennis shoved another spoonful of the thick and creamy pasta into his mouth, forcing him to chew and swallow.

“Because you’re mine, Mac, don’t you see?” Dennis murmurs almost fondly. “Your body is mine to do as I please with it, your mind is mine to bend to whatever whim I may have, and you love that don’t you?”

Mac groans slightly as his face heats up, turning his head away from the incoming spoon. “But Dennis, I-“

“There’s no buts,” Dennis instructs him gently, “just be good and eat for me. Be the good pig I’ve trained you to be. Can you do that for me baby boy?”

“But…I don’t know if I wanna be fat, Dennis…” Mac whimpers as Dennis puts down the bowl and start rubbing at Mac’s gut that reaches all the way down to mid thigh and has formed thick rolls on his sides over his too tight pants.

“Oh honey, you don’t know what it is you want, that’s for me to decide,” Dennis says with a warm smile as he kneads Mac’s sensitive mound of blubber, “and besides, you already are fat. You’ve eaten yourself into a fat little hog, my hog, and I don’t plan on letting you go. Now wait here while I go get you some dessert, you’re still looking a little too small for my liking.”

Thank you so much for reading, my commissions are always open for any characters and any situations, more info about that on my account :)

- Clove

[amoeganism]

FIRST KISS pjsk

what ur first kiss was like with the future world star

writing + hc ：crack, mentions of blood, tsukasa tenma is a DUMBASS (affectionate)

TSUKASA TENMA

you hid your mouth with your palm as you let out a long yawn after walking through phoenix wonderland to go home with your bff forever tsukasa. the sun was beginning to set, red and orange hues washing through the stray clouds like strokes of vibrant watercolor as they bled into the purple of night.

it seemed that the blond had just finished a musical solo on stage as his fellow crew members were clapping for him, sitting in the front row of the wonder stage. tsukasa heavily panted, a proud smile on his face while his hand was placed on his chest.

"[name]! you just missed the best part!"

"best part as in you running off tempo like four times?" nene muttered, getting a laugh from you and an faux offended face from tsukasa.

"whoops. i guess i'll have to visit another time and see for myself."

"OH! RIGHT! i haven't even explained to you the plot to this months show!" tsukasa excitedly dragged took your hand and dragged you with a disgusting amount of force ( how the hell did some lame ass like him have this much strength? you don't know ). "so basically, i, prince pegasus the eighteenth of the rainbow kingdom comes face to face with a rebellion from my people because the fairy dust st industry has been failing and very out of character for me, i've done nothing to help. can you believe that?!"

"that must be so humbling for you," you teased. "about time."

"what the hell?! anyway, turns out the head fairy, played by nene, does not have enough musical power to produce fairy dust from her singing because music has been lacking amongst the fairies! and emu, who's part of the rebellion, demands that my royal orchestra play for the fairies and in the end, the kingdoms fairy dust is restored and BAM! happily ever after!"

"goddamn how many plots does rui pull out of his ass?"

"...is that a compliment?" tsukasa blinked.

"don't worry about it," you quickly divert, causing tsukasa's mouth to momentarily open in protest, but quickly close. "you should sing something from the play for me. i want to hear what you guys wrote."

"HAHA! anything for my loyal fan."

"on second thought, i'm leaving."

"wait! stay! i'll sing!" he yelled after you. clearing his through twice before quickly running through a scale to warm up.

the song was a soft ballad, the lyrics written witj poetic artistry, portraying the feelings of a prince with regret. this song seemed to take place during the emotional climax of the play where tsukasa's character snaps out of his arrogant and selfish state of mind, realizing how much his people are suffering and begins to break. you've always admired how well tsukasa portrayed extreme emotions in his acting and if you were any meaner, you'd say he reminds you of those shitty tiktok povs where you have a limited amount of farts or something but being the best friend you are, you kept your mouth shut.

the song came to an end and this time, it was you who had their mouth dropped open.

"holy shit i could make out with your voice right now."

his brain SHORT CIRCUITED

smth up there fried and died right in the moment

my boys eyes went blank and stared at you for a good minute before he literally FLUNG his tall ass body at you and crashed his head into yours

man was in autopilot

you thought you broke your nose

your lips hurt but hey!!! shut up!!! stop complaining!!! future world star is literally kissing(?) you be grateful

but bro he was passionate

eyes squeezed close, sucking the hell out of your lips

he doesn't know how to kiss

tsukasa is not a star, he is a black hole trying to swallow you whole starting from your lips

you were planning to contact true crime podcasts for a new case

he only pulled back after he felt smth warm dripping into the kiss and turns out his nose was bleeding 🧍‍♀️

you laughed in his face

bro was too embarrassed to care and ran away like the pussy he is to shove a tissue up his nostril

dw u kissed him later but properly

tsukasa now has a note in his phone titled "days since i kissed [name] and how idk where our relationship lies: 1"

"i'm impressed you were able to kiss them but not ask them out. that's kinda funny tbh. loser behavior" - rui in the wxs groupchat later

[hantengus-fuckass-clones]

Some incorrect quotes about my oc and the clones (she’s married to all of them but Zoha is like her son)

Hantengu:

Ryuki: Hantengu, what do you call people you go out with but don’t try to sleep with?

Hantengu: ...People?

Hantengu: *is visibly upset*

Ryuki: Hantengu, what happened? I haven't seen you like this since you found out candyland wasn't an actual country.

Hantengu: Do you think sex without love is a sin?

Ryuki: If it is, I’ll see you in hell.

Ryuki: Stay foxy.

Hantengu: Die lonely.

Ryuki: Well, Hantengu and I finally did it!

The rest of the clones: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Ryuki: That's right... We kissed!

Sekido:

Ryuki: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?

Sekido: ...Have you never taken a shower before?

Sekido: Are you trying to seduce me?

Ryuki: Why, are you seducible?

Sekido: As top in this relationship, I think we should-

Ryuki: I can't believe you're pulling rank on me.

Sekido: Fight me!

Ryuki: *gets on one knee and pulls out a ring*

Ryuki: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Ryuki: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning.

Sekido: This is a lie.

Sekido: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie.

Sekido: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

Sekido: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?

Ryuki: I have a gun in that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

Ryuki: This date is boring!

Sekido: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Ryuki: Then why did you invite me?

Sekido: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Sekido I'll do whatever I want!

Karaku:

Karaku: Ryuki, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Ryuki, naked in Karaku's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Karaku, already taking off their clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

Karaku: *Laughs* Babe, you had a crush on me? That’s embarrassing—

Ryuki: We’re married.

Karaku: Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine.

Ryuki: Marry me.

Aizetsu:

Ryuki: Do you want to know your new name?

Aizetsu: My... my new name?

Ryuki: Yeah, it's your first name-

Aizetsu: Haha. Very funny Ryuki-

Ryuki: *gets down on one knee* And my last name.

Aizetsu: Oh- oh my god.

Aizetsu: Bro-

Ryuki: No, no, hold up, rewind.

Ryuki: My tongue was down in your throat just a second ago and now you're calling me bro??

Aizetsu: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!

Ryuki: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.

Aizetsu: Stop.

Ryuki: My future partner must be brave, strong, intelligent, successful and organized.

Aizetsu: *steps on a caterpillar and proceeds to drop to their knees and sob while apologizing profusely*

Ryuki: That one. I want that one.

Ryuki: Talk dirty to me, baby~

Aizetsu: The dishes.

Ryuki: Wh-

Aizetsu: They’ve been there for 4 days and it’s your turn to wash them. You still haven’t cleaned them and I have asked you to do so several times.

Urogi:

Ryuki: Wow, Urogi, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Urogi: We literally slept together yesterday.

Ryuki: That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Ryuki: What are you in the mood for?

Urogi: World domination.

Ryuki: That's a bit ambitious.

Urogi: You are my world.

Ryuki: Aww...

Urogi:

Ryuki:

Urogi:

Ryuki: OH.

Ryuki: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Urogi: Wow. They sound stupid.

Ryuki: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Urogi: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Ryuki: I guess you’re right. Hey Urogi, I love you.

Urogi: See! Just say that!

Ryuki: Holy fucking shit.

Urogi: If that flies over their head then, sorry Ryuki, but they're too dumb for you.

Ryuki: Urogi.

Urogi: Ugh, crushes are so dumb.

Ryuki: I know. Whenever I’m near the person I like I just start acting stupid.

Urogi: But you’re always acting stupid?

Ryuki: ...

Ryuki: Yeah, don’t think about that too hard.

Urami:

Urami: Know why I called you in here?

Ryuki: Because I accidentally sent you a tit pic.

Urami: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

Urami: Okay, I’m going to get the wedding cake.

Ryuki: Perfect, while you do that I’ll check on the ring bear.

Urami: ...

Urami: You mean ring bearER, right?

Ryuki: ...

Urami: Look me in the eyes and tell me you are not going to bring a dangerous wild animal to our wedding.

Ryuki: Can I have 2 straws with that milkshake?

Urami: Aww-

Ryuki: With 2 straws, I can drink it double as fast!

Urami: My hands are cold.

Ryuki: Here, let me hold them.

Urami: My lips are cold too.

Ryuki: *covers Urami's mouth with their hand*

Urami, talking about Ryuki: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH THEM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? THEY DID. THEY KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

Ryuki: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Urami: Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Zohakuten:

Ryuki: Just trust me. Have I ever put you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation?

Zohakuten: All the time.

Ryuki: Then you should be used to it by now.

Zohakuten, near tears: Please, Ryuki, I don’t speak meme! I don't know what a 'yeet' is!

*Zohakuten and Ryuki are planning to break in somewhere*

Zohakuten: We need to distract the guards.

Ryuki: Right.

Zohakuten: What are we gonna do?

Ryuki: I'm gonna break their elbows while you poke their eyes.

Zohakuten:

Ryuki:

Zohakuten: Deal.

Zohakuten: When was the last time you cried?

Ryuki: Uh 15 minutes ago, why??

Zohakuten: really? That recent?

Ryuki: Yeah *voice crack* is that a issue? *starts crying again*

Ryuki: Did you have to stab them?

Zohakuten: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me.

Ryuki: What did they say?

Zohakuten: "What are you going to do, stab me?"

Ryuki: That’s fair.

Ryuki: Remember what I told you.

Zohakuten: Don’t be a cunt.

Any combo of them:

Karaku: Ryuki, what are you doing tomorrow?

Ryuki: Having my day ruined by whatever you’re about to ask me to do.

Zohakuten: We have fun, don’t we, Hantengu?

Hantengu: I have never been more stressed out in my entire life.

Sekido: I'm not doing to well.

Aizetsu: What's wrong?

Sekido: I have this headache that comes and goes.

*Zohakuten enters the room*

Sekido: There it is again.

Zohakuten: You’re a loose cannon, Ryuki.

Ryuki: No, I’m not. I’m a cannon, maybe, but a loose cannon? Is that what you think of me?

Urogi: I think you play by your own rules.

Hantengu: No way, they think rules were made to be broken.

Zohakuten: Those are all attributes of a loose cannon.

Ryuki: No, I’m just a reckless renegade. Karaku is a loose cannon.

Karaku: *smashes a chair* Aah! You shut your trap, Ryuki!

Hantengu: I’d say Karaku’s more of a cop on the edge with nothing to lose. That’s an entirely different thing.

Urogi: Now I’m just confused. Is Ryuki a loose cannon or not?

Zohakuten: All right, put on a pot of coffee. We’re gonna get to the bottom of this.

Ryuki: *groans*

Karaku: Aw, man.

Sekido: I know how this must look but I can assure you we have a perfectly logical explanation.

Hantengu: Yeah! We’re cowards!

Urogi: Ryuki has no survival skills, their need to win has replaced them.

Hantengu: That can't be true!

Urogi: Watch this.

Urogi: Hey Ryuki, race you to the bottom of the stairs!

Ryuki: *Throws themself out a window*

Sekido, watching Hantengu & Aizetsu panic : What's going on?

Karaku: Hantengu is having a midlife crisis and Aizetsu is just having a crisis.