#but he's asleep

[morganski-19]

For the friends AU - you gotta do the one with the leather pants…I can’t decide who would be that character, but I think it would be hilarious!

I really enjoyed the first snippet. Made me feel like I was watching both Friends & ST! Great job!

I thought about this for so long, and then it just hit me. Eddie and Argyle. Eddie with the leather pants, obviously, and Argyle on the other line. Hope it lives up to expectations, I kind of let it run and they end up having a deeper conversation at the end (for set up purposes). But still funny.

The One with the Leather Pants

(for this one, imagine like a sitcom split screen, switching pov on a phone call type situation)

Eddie sits frantically on the toilet, waiting for Argyle to pick up the phone. He’s wearing nothing by a T-shirt and tight boxers, his leather pants halfway up his calves. It was broiling in the apartment he was in. And, in an attempt to leave silently after his latest hookup, he brought his clothes to the bathroom to clean up and get out. But his pants would not slide up his legs any higher. He can’t exactly walk out of here pants-less in the middle of the night.

“Hey dude,” Argyle says when he picks up the phone. Lounging on his couch in baggy pajamas while watching tv.

“Thank god, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Eddie sighs in relief.

“Nah, dude. I was up watching some tv. What’s up?”

Eddie looks down at his legs, letting out another sigh in premature defeat. “I got a kind of situation.”

Argyle leans his head on his hand. “What kind of situation?”

“You know those leather pants I wear when I go out sometimes. Well, I wore them out tonight, met a guy, we went back to his place to hook up. And his apartment is like a million degrees, and I was sweating a lot. So, to make an already long story short, I can’t get my pants back on.”

Argyle nods, taking in the information. “Huh, that’s rough dude.”

“I’m aware,” Eddie says while raising his eyebrows. “Any idea what to do?”

“I don’t know,” he says while scratching his chin. “Not exactly the best at this stuff. Should have called Nancy. Or Robin, she would know.”

Eddie presses his hand against his forehead. “Yeah, I know, but I didn’t want to get laughed at and humiliated, so I called you.”

“Aww, that’s kind of sweet. Hold on, let me think.”

“I’m up for literally anything right now, I can’t get them past my knees.”

“Is the guy you’re with still up, can you ask him if it’s cool for you to take a shower to cool down and wash the sweat off.”

Eddie glances at the closed door, knowing that the guy is passed out. “Not exactly. And I’ve put on leather pants after a shower before, it’s still not the best.”

Argyle hums. “Ok, so something else to get the sweat off your legs. Is there baby powder there?”

Eddie awkwardly stands up and waddles to get in front of the medicine cabinet. Shaking his head to get rid of the voice in his head saying not to look through someone’s stuff. He opens the cabinet to find a small bottle of baby powder. “Yeah, weirdly enough.”

“Try that.”

It could be worse. Eddie puts his phone on the counter and pours the baby powder into his hand. More comes out that he means to, making it puff into the air when he starts to rub it on his legs. In desperation, he forgets to wash the excess off his hands and tries to pull his pants up. He gets it just past his knees before the leather slips out of his hands. Eddie grabs the counter in order to not fall over.

Now realizing his mistake, Eddie stands and washes the baby powder off his hands and tries again. Still doesn’t work.

“Yeah, that didn’t work,” he says after picking up the phone again.

“Damn, ok. Do you think it has to do with the sweat on your legs or that they widened a bit with the heat?”

Eddie crosses his arm and grabs his elbow, leaning against the sink. “Probably the heat thing, I don’t know,” he says with a tilt to his head.

Argyle hums again. “Lotion to try and slide the pants up your legs?”

“I’m not going to get lotion on my pants, that’s going to be a bitch to clean. How would that even work?”

“Imagine it, dude, a little lube so everything can get to where it needs to go.”

Eddie snorts. “Not imagining what you want, but it made me laugh.”

Argyle takes a second before bursting out laughing through the phone. “Yeah, ok, I see it now. Maybe try wetting a washcloth, or something, with cold water, try to cool your legs down.”

“That’s not a bad idea. Will take a while thought, was trying to leave without the guy noticing.”

“Ohh, one of those types of hookups. You should have at least said goodbye to the guy.”

Eddie finds a spare hand towel and turns on the tap. After the water gets cold, he wets the towel and wrings it out. Sitting back on the toilet, he drapes the towel over his legs and just waits.

“I said goodnight, that’s enough for a lot of people. I just, didn’t want him to get attached. I’m fine with casual stuff, just not ready for something serious yet.”

“I see, still burned from the last one. I got you.”

Eddie leans back on the toilet. “Hard not to be burned when you give three years to someone, move to a new city, leaving everything that you know, and they figure he’s been cheating on you for months.”

Argyle nods his head in understanding. “Yeah, it’s sucks. But you can’t let that hold yourself back, dude. You got so much to give, you’ll find someone else sometime.”

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “I know. I’m just scared to get hurt again.”

“Getting hurt sucks, I know, I’ve been there. But you never know what’s going to happen if you don’t try.”

Eddie makes a thoughtful face, knowing exactly who he’s been running away from. What feelings he’s been trying to avoid.

“When I called you, I didn’t exactly expect a midnight therapy session.”

Argyle snorts. “I am known for my midnight therapy. But seriously though, if you’re not ready to date yet, that’s fine, dude. But, when you are, I think he might be waiting for you too.”

Eddie opens his mouth slightly in shock. “I don’t exactly know who you’re talking about.”

“I have eyes, dude. I see you staring. And I also see him staring back. But no pressure, this is your timetable, not mine.”

“Thank you. Why are you up anyway? Don’t you go to bed at like ten?” Eddie stands, draping the now warm towel up on the towel rack.

“Jonathan’s a chronic insomniac, so I stay up with him sometimes when it gets bad. Sometimes being around someone else helps him fall asleep.”

Eddie’s eyes widen. “Has he been there the entire time I’ve been talking to you?”

Argyle turns to face Jonathan, who was sitting next to him the whole time, half asleep. “Yeah, but I’m like ninety percent sure he’s asleep.”

“Ninety percent! Poke him, see if he moves or something.”

“I’m not going to wake him up, dude. What do you not get about chronic insomniac?”

“Fine, I guess that’s fair. Hold on, I’m trying this again.”

It’s a struggle, and Eddie may have hit his head on the counter, but he gets his pants up. Zips them even.

“I got them, thanks for picking up. Mind keeping this between us?

“I can only promise that if Jonathan is actually asleep. He’s a huge gossip when he wants to be.”

“I’m praying that he is. How’s that going, by the way?” Eddie asks, turning the tables back on Argyle.

Argyle stares, a bit longingly, at his best friend sleeping on the couch. A blanket that Argyle draped over him earlier, tucked underneath his chin. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you’re not the only one I’ve seen staring either. And out of the both of us, your situation is a lot better than mine.”

Argyle smiles. “I don’t believe that but thank you.”

“No problem. Talk to you later. I’ll buy you a drink tomorrow as a thank you.”

“No need, dude. Text me when you get back to your place.”

“Will do,” Eddie hangs up the phone. He cleans up the small mess in the bathroom he made with the baby powder before leaving. Grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter and, successfully, leaves unnoticed.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added or taken off) @slowandsteddie, @annieofhearts, @cacdyke, @ubpd, @captain--low, @thespaceantwhowrites, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @lunaticparisianlady, @apomaro-mellow, @dolphincliffs, @dragonmama76, @maggiebug417, @stevesbipanic, @fearieshadow, @mentallyundone, @eightpackdiaz, @au79burger @bookworm0690 , @practicallybegging

[fancyratvanity]

Genuinely I don't know what to do with my time now

[catwouthats]

THEY MAKE ME INSANE

Proof below:

Also, I’m fucking crying, I think his arm is like that bc he fell asleep holding the photo.

EDIT: more proof:

[otto-doctavius]

Logan and Mary Puppins are so “dad and the dog he said he didn’t want” coded. He was acting disgusted by that dog for 90% of the movie, then when they were going to fight the Deadpools that almost baby-talk “You won’t wanna see this, bub.” slipped out. Then ofc there’s the bit at the end when they’re all at the table and he’s just sitting there playing with her ears and laughing as he makes her high-five Laura. I see you, mr “she is NOT coming with us”. You like that nasty little dog

[simply-ewok]

rolling over, half asleep, in the middle of the night and when you stretch your arm out you end up smacking ghost in the face, and you can’t help but fling yourself back with a loud gasp before realizing it’s just your man, who yet again, snuck inside and cozied up to you without stirring you (bc he hates waking up his baby) bc he was able to come home early and chose to surprise you. and after you relax and begin apologizing for hitting him you hear his low, growly chuckle as he sits up to pull you into his chest, kissing your forehead before mumbling into your sweet smelling hair “it’s all right lovie, di’n’t mean to scare you.”

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Brucie Wayne gets into a mild accident in public (read-got hit by a car). And Batman would just walk it off (“it’s barely a bruise”), but Brucie obviously… can’t.

So he has to suffer the ordeal of having civilians call paramedics, getting fussed over, and having-

Having his dead son get into the back of the ambulance with him.

Oh- oh no. He must have hit his head worse than he thought. He thought he was past this…

[shotmrmiller]

sex pollen trope where you're the one affected, having been exposed to some dense gas while on an op that felt like harsh sandpaper across your throat and lungs, and now you're a feverish mess on some ratty cot in a safe house and with only ghost as company, it's miserable, as the saying goes.

hair sticking to your sweaty skin, plastered onto your forehead and neck, every swallow feeling like you've got a mouthful of sand, your fluttering pulse wild and deafening in your ears, and the throbbing ache deep in your core, the blistering heat right below your navel— it'd only been uncomfortable in the beginning, the faint throbbing incredibly familiar, but the more you ignored it, the worse it got.

and now you're here, with arousal sticking your underwear to your pussy, unable to do anything about it because your lieutenant is seated in a corner that lets him have both you and the front door within his line of sight. a quick, discreet rub under your clothes is not an option.

someone put you out of your foggy misery.

"squirmin' like a worm on a 'ook isn't gonna help." his staring doesn't either, yet he does it anyway.

"got to make sure ya aren't dyin' on me." you want to snap that you don't think proof of life is on the darkened stain between your legs, the retort pressed behind clenched teeth but another thick wave of bestial need rolls over you and god, you're about to shove your hand into your underwear, propriety be damned—

"best you don't do tha'." why the fuck not? "you'll only get relief for a moment 'fore it comes back twofold." he says as if he's reading off the morning paper and not watching you fight tooth and nail to not fuck yourself against the pillow your head is on. (soap's offer to be friends with benefits is only looking better by the hour.)

you hastily decide that it'll be better than nothing. you'll just have to rub your pussy raw until this drug runs its course and you're telling him to piss off or don't, but you've had enough. you're stuck here with him anyway, no flight home until the morn and you're not about to spend it writhing around.

"if tha's wha' you want," ghost bites his gloves off, spitting them out onto the ground before curling his hands around your ankles and dragging you toward him. "i will help." your entire world narrows down to the feel of him touching your skin, his fingers searing as they hook into the waistband of your pants, and you almost kick him in the mouth trying to get them off faster.

"but 'm not fuckin' you." the bite of disappointment is quickly forgotten, his breath warm against your slick pussy, and after three quick glides of his tongue over your pearl, your orgasm crests, pulse after pulse of pleasure so potent it stung.

in less than a minute you're burning again, need thrumming through you and with the heady push and drag of his middle finger over your sensitive nerves, curling in you until he can fit two, three—

you're lost.

(ghost telling you that he's not doing anything else because if he's going to fuck you then you're going to remember it falls on ringing ears.)

[buggachat]

something so fucked up about Chat Noir’s whole deal is that he is in a lot of ways Adrien playing a character. Like Adrien picked up his miraculous and was told he’d be a superhero so he was like “ok, time to act like a superhero!” and he lets himself have fun w it and play up the role and let loose and kind of just allow himself to be silly and goofy and have fun and for once in his life not care about performing Perfection™.

But. But none of the other characters KNOW THAT. So everyone just sees Chat Noir and is like “look at this guy’s ego. He’s so full of himself. Surely it’d be fair to knock him down a few pegs” without being aware of how few pegs he actually HAS. He’s like the “insecure character who overcompensates in ego” trope except he’s really not doing it unironically, he’s just having a fun LARP pretending to have self worth in his off-hours but nobody else is on the same page about it being a game and he refuses to tell them. He just dramatically pouts about it and lets them laugh and pretends like he’s not internalizing it and it is almost 3 am and my brain forced me to write this instead of sleeping I’m gonna take a melatonin

[arttuff]

he's going to have the worst rash under his mask when he wakes up

[bbc-trolls]

Hc Branch is premium cuddle real estate.

[ladyofthecreed]

He slep

[mequetrefis]

free him

[zzzx009]

Sleepy 😴

[sevrinve]

bedtime

[avocadoraisin]

Saw 11 is gonna be the beach episode

[snailianz]

me and my wife who hates me and wants me dead