#coulda probably done it quick in the back

[faeriegirlshroom]

- @transfem-goddess-temple -

Let’s make a deal~

I can grant the powers indomitable, the station of angel in my high court, and the right to fuck any of the sluts within my temple walls. All I require is your obedience, and your worship of my massive Goddess cock. Does that sound fair?

If so, the deal is struck~

Well...

See, this one's a tough one for me. I've been lurking about your temple for a bit, and you seem very interesting... but.

I've never had much faith in the gods, fate, or divinity. Really, all I've gotten from your ilk is hurt. So, in fact, I've honestly developed quite the resentment of the gods. Besides, this deal of yours could use some work, honey~. So, from fae to goddess, I'll give you gesture of, well, good faith, if you will, as a freebie this time around, and give you some advice.

You're gonna need to work on your specifics, darling, if you want to get anywhere with my crowd~. Both for your safety as well as ours. I'd like some details on your "powers indomitable", and what the role of an angel in your court entails, responsibilities and benefits and the like, as well as what you'll command me to do in my obedience of you... because I'm not signing a contract if I don't know what I'm getting myself into. Wording as well. "Any" of the sluts in your temple is a descriptor that I'd say includes you, dear~

So, prove to me you're different from the rest of your kind, and perhaps I'll consider your offer...~

[midnightmayhem13]

headcanon request where reader slowly realizes that their gf is stealing their clothes pls if you haven’t done this already

it's a roller coaster kinda rush

this is so cute omg ❕ thanks babe (also i kinda switch the roles but only realized when i finished writing😩)

enjoyyyyy🩶

carol danvers

carol loves when you wear her clothes. she always lets you borrow her leather jacket, and you love it. she starts noticing it's in the laundry cycle quite often. she doesn't wear it all the time, bcs she either in her suit or pjs. she gets home and realizes it's either laid on your vanity chair, or the laundry bin. i haven't worn it in a while, coulda sworn it was on the hanger. she lets it be, she can be a messy person. but then she sees it out often. she definitely had put it back in the closet yesterday. when she wore it on a date she let you wear it. and said "it smells like you again" with a sweet smile. she's the only one who wears it. why wouldn't it? she brushes it off. then after laundry day she sees it in the bin again. you just washed it. she takes some fun in it. untill one night, after coming back from a week long mission. she sees you curled up her bed, wearing her jacket. you unconsciously wrap it around your body. that's why

sharon carter

ms carter is a distinguished women. she only wears the finest dress shirts. silks, cotton, you name it. she has power so she must dress like it. and since she has such a busy schedule so often, she has to have a fast variety of them. she doesn't have time to wash very often, and she'd hate to ask you such a thing. but as she goes through her weeks she starts noticing her collection starts diminishing quicker then usual. she shrugs it off, it's been a busy week. but when she sees a shirt that she was planning to wear the day before is gone, she starts to question it. no one that works at her main house is allowed to her private rooms. you're not her size, so it's 'definitely not you'. but oh was she wrong. she doesn't want to waste her time thinking of it so she just sits down and has a small glass of whiskey. are you embarrassed to ask to borrow one? she thinks it's cute that you'd wear her clothes but she doesn't want to assume. one day she comes home late to find you in her button up and underwear, cleaning that house. guess she caught the thief. and from them on she cannot stop looking at you when you wear her clothes.

darcy lewis

i feel like darcy is one of the girls that gets cold all the time. but it started out with once in a while, she'd ask for a hoodie, wash it when it lost your cent, and return it. but then you told her you didn't need to ask. she started taking them when she missed you and even swapped it out sometimes. it became that it wasn't even like to wear it to sleep when she missed you she'd wear them with her regular outfits. but you didn't know all that. sometimes she'd wear your socks just to feel giddy. but she's definitely borrow your hoodies and jackets the most. and one day on a chilly day you decided to wear your favorite sweater but came to find it was gone. that's weird. you sent darcy a quick text and she responded with a rather suspicious "uhmm nope sorry honey, maybe you left it at work" you let it slide and wore a different. but this turned into an ongoing thing. no way you left all your jackets and hoodies at work bc they were always "left" at work. untill one day you came home before darcy to find your missing sweaters in the laundry room. and when she walked in she was wear the exact hoodie we were gonna were that day. she smiled and you did too as you shared a sweet kiss.

nebula

now she doesn't have the most human comfortable clothes but she has this one t-shirt she wears often. it's cute and fits her just right to sleep at night. but since she's a giant it fits you long, almost as if it were a dress. so when she's not here or she wants to be alone you wear it. yk she would probably ask you not to wear it but you'd take that chance. one day she walked into your room and saw you covered your body rather quick "are you nude?" she asks with a confused expression. "uhm y-yup!" you say getting up with the blanket around your body and going to change. she stands there as you head into the washroom. while she waits she goes to lay on the bed. when you come out she sees you try to discreetly place her shirt in the laundry bin. she stays silent and hold her arms out to accept you. this happened again. but you were dead asleep. while she went to go join you in the bed. as she pulled the sheets up she saw you in her t-shirt. she didn't know how but she immediately fell more in love. she pulled you in by the waist and kissed your lips sweetly and gently. "i love you" she whispered.

maria hill

now maria usually comes home late so obviously you miss her a lot. and you like to wear her sweat pants. you dont know what it is but wearing the pants that go past you ankles and you have to tie tight around the waist makes you feel at home. and maria honestly doesn't mind. she'd lend you clothes all the time before you lived together. she just didn't know how often you still did it. but she's notice that her pants would go missing for ages. she had a thought that it was you but brushed it off thinking you were that obsessed with her. boy was she wrong. but one time after a long day at work she just wanted to hold her girl and get wine drunk and have a fun night. she walked in to you making her dinner and taking two bottles of wine from the fridge. she noticed you did your make up fancier and you did your hair that was more than a being at home look. then you would away from the counter to greet her with a kiss and hug and she noticed you had her pants and a long sleeve on. you looked so beautiful and she definitely showed you that night

kate bishop

now kate has a lot of fancy clothes but you have your favorite. her suit jacket. you'll always wear it when she's not around. either with just undergarments on or with your pjs but you always wear it. it's warm and cozy to you especially unbuttoned. plus the sleeves fit you long so can keep your hands warm. and kate isn't aware but she knows it's always steamed and hung up when she needs to wear it. and does she wear it often yes but she never really questions why it's always perfect and not slightly wrinkled like the other clothes. but she does love her but jackets so it's probably her unconsciously taking extra care of it. on a chilly saturday afternoon your doing laundry and she's just eating pizza and cuddling with lucky. lucky gets up to got lay somewhere else and she takes the advantage to go give you a kiss attack. she walks into you listening to music with booty shorts and her jacket on. she hugs you from behind the waist and tells you how good you look.

uhm hi loves so i'm back i just vanished for a little but HI SLUTS🩶🩶

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Movin’ Mountains

Chapter 1: cowboy take me away

* Pairing: Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, healing, dealing with some post trauma, fairly tame tbh

* Word count: 4,198ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant and @lexixstewart for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all.

Author's note: Hey everyone! We’re back at it again at the Krispy Kreme ✌🏻😝 (💀 I cannot believe I just did that along with a vine reference lmao.) (Please don't run in the other direction lol.)

Welcome to the continuation of Steady Heart! Thank you for coming along and continuing the journey with me! Here we are at the beginning of season 3! I can’t wait to see what lies ahead for our favorite, as Rip calls them, “merry band of misfits”. I hope everyone enjoys our soft start into the season, and the adventure ahead!

The door to the foreman’s lodge opened. It pulled Stella’s attention from the book she was reading, her heart dropped and her hand fell to her gun. She'd been jumpy ever since the night she got attacked. She glanced up and saw it was Kayce who greeted her from the doorway. Her shoulders relaxed and she smiled softly to avoid pulling the gash on her face and folded her book closed, placing it on the coffee table.

“Hey, you.” She welcomed and started to stiffly rise from the couch to be gentle on her ribs, but Kayce met her at the couch stopping her motion.

He bent down and gave her a quick kiss. “Hey back.”

She closed her eyes and hummed. “I still gotta get used to that.”

Kayce chuckled and sat next to her. “Me too. How’re you feelin’ today?” He gave a quick glance at her pistol.

Stella leaned back into the couch slow and steady and crossed him with a look of her own to stop any argument about being skittish. “I think I’m alright.”

“You think?” He placed his arm behind her on the back of the couch.

“Well I mean my ribs are probably gonna hurt for a while no matter how healed they are. My bruises don’t hurt anymore though.”

“What about,” he motioned to his eyebrow.

She grabbed the side of her bottom lip between her teeth and contemplated the change to her face. “I just gotta be careful to not stretch the skin too much, which is ass.” She laughed. “I never realized how much I actually used my eyebrows.”

“I coulda told you that, sugar.”

She flattened her face and gave him a side-eye. “Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” she quipped sarcastically. “Anyway, how’s Tate?”

Kayce blew out a heavy breath. “He’s okay, sleeping a little better, but still waking up scared.”

“Is there anything I can do to help? I understand being scared at the moment.”

Kayce stared down at her in the crook of his arm and shook his head. Of course she was worried about everyone but herself. “No, Monica is still with him. When she isn’t, I am.”

“Yeah, it probably wouldn’t be good for him to see me still so busted up right now. It would do more harm than good. How’s Monica?”

“Very happy that our son is alive. Grateful to you for trying to stop them.”

“I wish he would have kept running to the big house.” Stella placed her head back against Kayce’s arm and closed her eyes. She had to turn her brain off from thinking about everything she should have done versus what she did. It wouldn’t get her anywhere. “I’m still exhausted from all that mess.”

“I don’t doubt you are, but him coming back might have been the only thing that saved you.”

“I still wish he wouldn’t have come back. I would have been fine, eventually, and he wouldn’t have gotten kidnapped.”

“We’ll make it through, Stell. I’m just glad you both are still here.” Kayce draped his hand on her shoulder.

For a few moments, Stella pretended like everything was okay, that she and Kayce just got back from a long day. It was peaceful in his presence. She was grateful that he and Ryan found her when they did. She shuddered at the thought of what could have happened if she went untreated for longer. She opened her eyes thinking about her brother. “Oh, Ryan told me you guys are building a new barn further out?”

“When we’re out in the farther pastures, it would be nice to have a spot to go to that has extra supplies and things.” He faced her. “Speaking of which, we’re settin' up a spike camp until July.”

“Why?”

“Rip and I wanna be sure the clover isn’t gonna come back. We checked the fields this mornin’, and it didn’t look like there was any growing back, but we can’t be too careful. So we’re gonna babysit the herd. You wanna come with us?” He knew she would love the change of pace. He decided to not mention Tate coming along just yet. He didn’t want her to worry about him seeing her.

“I would be kinda useless for a little while yet. I shouldn’t even technically ride, as much as that fact pisses me off.”

“I’m not bringin’ ya up there to work, Stell. I just want you to have a change of scenery. But if you get to feelin’ right, you’re more than welcome to join the guys.” Kayce cringed. “If your brother doesn’t have a heart attack about it.”

She smiled at him. “C’mere.” He scooted closer for her. She leaned into him and whispered, “thank you,” on his lips as she kissed him.

Kayce carefully leaned his forehead against Stella’s. “I should go back up to the main house to be with Tate, but either myself or your brother will come get you in the mornin’.”

Stella nodded and stiffly stood with him. “What time?”

“Early. Probably 4:30 quarter of five.”

She groaned, “ugh, fuckin’ ranch hours,” and followed him to the door. Reaching out to grab his hand, she pulled him into a hug. “I mean it.” Stella didn’t know how else to say thank you anymore.

He pulled back just enough to gaze affectionately down at her. “You’re welcome, sugar.” He closed the gap and placed a gentle kiss on her lips as she brought her hand to his chest.

There was a groan that sounded behind the couple. “That’s the last thing I needed to see tonight,” Ryan grouched.

Stella faced down at the ground, with her eyes closed. Nervous about being caught so soon. “Hey, Ry.” Her face and neck heated up.

Kayce laced his fingers through hers as he stepped back, avoiding Ryan’s gaze. “I’m gonna go let Monica have a break.”

“See ya later, cowboy.” Their fingers squeezed each other and then slipped apart as he stepped away.

While Kayce walked off, the siblings stared at one another. Both of them had their lips pressed together and arms crossed. Stella’s face felt like it was on the sun with how red it must have been. The pair dissolved into laughter.

Stella cleared her throat. “You wanna come in?”

“It doesn’t smell like sex in there, does it?”

Stella rolled her eyes. “Oh my fuckin’ god, Ryan. No.”

Ryan nodded and stepped up to the door, trailing behind his sister. He watched while she made her way to the refrigerator.

“You want anything to drink?” She grabbed a Sprite from the fridge.

He stepped up to a kitchen chair, pulling it out and taking a seat. “Nah, we’re gonna be drinking later. I just wanted to check on you for the night before we did.” He took notice of her gun on her hip, but made no mention of it. He’d been keeping an eye on her, everyone had, especially with how edgy she’d been.

She cracked open her soda and leaned back against the sink to face Ryan. “I’m doing alright for the most part. Just starting to get bored,” she complained as she took a sip of her soda. “Very bored,” she sighed.

“I understand, but we need you 100%. Don’t need you hurting yourself more.”

“Yeah, I know,” she grumbled. Just because it was true didn’t make it suck any less. “Kayce invited me to come to the spike camp with y’all.”

Her brother's eyebrows shot up. “Oh he did, did he?”

“Yeah. Figured I would like a change of scenery. Which I would. Very much.” Stella stared at him, hoping to make her point. “Also, most likely so both you and himself could still keep an eye on me and keep me out of trouble.” She grinned.

Ryan leaned in the chair and propped his elbow on the backrest. “It’s irritating how smart he is.”

Her grin widened. “You’re just mad he thought of it first. He’s always been that smart.” She sat her soda on the counter and crossed her arms. “Is it okay if I go? I don’t wanna be stuck here by myself.”

“You wouldn’t be by yourself.”

“I know.” She shrugged. “But I wanna be with you and Kayce because y’all don’t treat me like I’m fragile like everyone else has been.”

“As long as you follow through with not working.” He fixed her with a look.

“Okay, okay.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I promise. I’ll sit with John and give everyone shit.” She smiled. “Now you go have fun. I’ll see y’all in the mornin’.”

Stella wandered around the foreman’s lodge aimlessly. She thought about going to hang out with the wranglers while they cut up, but she didn’t have the energy to be around the rambunctious bunch. She loved them, but she needed quiet. Reaching to grab her soda, she made her way to the little front porch area of the lodge. As she strode across the room, she made sure her gun was still on her hip.

She dropped into the single chair and fixed her glasses. Her feet swung up to cross at the ankles on the small table in front of her. The fizzy carbonation of her soda tickled her nose as she took a swig and swallowed. Stella surveyed the landscape carefully.

She could see the round pen, the cow pen, the barn, and the bunkhouse from where she sat. The lights were on in the house, so that gave her some comfort that her brother was close by if she needed him.

A breath pushed past Stella’s lips as she forced herself to calm down. The guys who were responsible for kidnapping Tate and beating the shit out of her were taken care of. She had to convince herself no one was going to sneak up on her.

“Everything is okay. We’re okay. We’re alive. Just breathe. You’re safe.” Stella encouraged herself, taking a few deep breaths in between her affirmations.

She’d been telling herself that a lot lately. That’s why her gun was glued to her hip. She had made the grave mistake of being caught without it, and it almost cost her her life. Stella vowed to never get found without it again.

The sounds of the ranch made her startle every once and a while, but eventually she settled and allowed herself to relax back in the chair. The thought of Rip probably wandering around somewhere nearby like a prowling bear made her fully sit back. Yes Kayce and her brother were nearby, but Rip was closer. She knew he wouldn’t be done with making sure everything was closed up for the night yet.

The longer she sat there, the calmer she became and the sounds of the ranch finally convinced her eyes to shut. Stella could still hear the horses in the pasture nearby, and the settling of the farm equipment, so she wasn’t fully asleep. It was a catnap state. She hadn’t been getting the fittest sleep since she came home from the hospital, so whatever rest her body would allow, she’d take it.

The crunch of the gravel that led up to the foreman’s lodge in between the stepping stones, startled Stella awake. “Stella-belle?” A gravelly voice intoned softly from her side. A warm calloused hand draped around her forearm and her eyes shot open. Without thought, she whipped her arm out to the side and hit the offender away from her. She scrambled to stand and back away from the intruder. Her hand dropped to her holster.

Rip stood back quickly and held his hands out like he would to a frightened horse. “Woah woah! Stella it’s me!”

Her eyes focused and her brain finally came out of its sleepy haze. “Oh my fucking god,” she wheezed out. From her quick movements her ribs smarted at her angrily. She moved her hand to her right side and hissed at the pain.

Rip wanted to help her, but knew she didn’t like being touched when she was in pain. He felt helpless as he watched her pant, trying to get her breath back. She paced back and forth, regulating her way through the discomfort. Slowly, it backed down to a throbbing versus a stabbing sting.

“Damn, Wheelie.”

“I’m sorry. I should have made more noise.”

Stella pursed her lips. She knew he didn’t mean to do it, and her anger was misplaced because of the pain of her own doing. She shouldn’t take it out on him. “It’s alright. What’s up?”

“I just got done laying into the wranglers because their asses are still awake and we got shit to do this morning. I saw you out here and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I actually fell asleep after a while.” She yawned and scratched her head. “What time is it?”

“3:45. You should head to an actual bed, Stella-belle.”

“I should probably just stay up and get packed.”

Rip frowned. “Packed?” He pushed open the lodge door and motioned her inside. “For what?”

Stella grabbed her empty soda bottle and followed his direction, stepping into the house. She tossed the bottle into the little recycling bin next to the fridge. “I’m going to the spike camp with ya.” She smirked over her shoulder while she went to grab one of Kayce’s duffelbags.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me. And my brother and Kayce agreed. So I’m coming with y’all.” Stella opened Kayce’s closet and made a small “ha,” when she found the medium-sized bag on the floor. Heavy boots hit the ground behind her and she spun around to face the angry bear of a man she’d become so fond of.

She grinned up at him. “I already promised that I would sit with John and give everyone shit while y’all worked.”

The corners of Rip’s mouth turned further downward in a frown. “Stella…,” he let her name hang in the air.

“Riiip,” she dragged out his small name. Stella gently weaved around him to the dresser Kayce was letting her use for her clothes. Rip sighed behind her and she ignored him. She went about pulling out her clothes for at least a week, more than sure she’d have to come back down and get more. She decided she would cross that bridge when she got there.

“You love running us ragged, don’t you?”

Stella placed the pile of clothes she had in her hand in the bag and turned to look at him. His shoulders sagged, he looked exhausted. Not only did he have everything else going on, but he had become her unofficial babysitter. Kayce and Ryan were smart for that because they knew if she didn’t listen to them, she would listen to Rip. Her lips pulled together in an affectionate smile. She adjusted the frames on her nose, opened her arms and waved him over. “C’mere.”

When he didn’t step toward her fast enough, she met him halfway and engulfed him in a hug. “I’m sorry, Rip.” He placed his arms around her shoulders to keep away from her ribs. Stella took as deep a breath as she could and settled into the curve of his arm. “I know you worry and don’t tell anyone. Think of it this way,” she leaned back and Rip slowly let her go. “You’ll have me within eyesight, uninterrupted, unless my brother or Kayce steal me away.”

Stella backed up and brushed her shirt off nervously. “Plus, I need to do something about being this edgy. I think nature will help me reset that.” She shrugged. “Help me trust myself again.”

Rip gave a quick look down at her holster, thankful that she hadn’t pulled it on him outside. He knew she was having a hard time adjusting to being back on the ranch, the same place that the awful event occurred. He’d observed her jump at sounds and people she’d known for years over the last few weeks. It definitely wasn’t like her to spook that easy. He reached out and ruffled her hair quickly. “Alright, you heathen. I suppose that’s a good deal.”

“Hey!” Stella backed away from his hand giggling. “That’s hurtful.”

“Where’s the lie? Can’t be a lie if it’s the truth, now can it?” Rip crossed his arms and leaned back against the door jamb and smirked.

“I am not a heathen, I’m a lady.”

“Bullshit, you and this merry band of misfits are all heathens. You and your brother are at the top of that list.”

Stella clutched at her nonexistent pearls. “Rip Wheeler! I thought you knew me better than that.”

He chuckled deeply. The warmth from seeing her smile spreading throughout his chest, even if it was just for a minute. He stole a glance at the alarm clock he had set up on the bedside table and read that it was pushing on 4:00 am. “Alright, Stella-belle. I’ll leave you be to finish getting ready. Is anyone coming to get you?”

Stella smiled at him, not as wide as she would have liked, but wider than a few weeks ago. “Yeah, my brother or Kayce. Which from the sounds of it, it’ll be me getting him instead.” She huffed out a laugh through her nose. “So I’ll finish up here and see you soon, Wheelie. You go wrangle those boys into shape.” They shared a smirk, as Rip nodded and quietly made his way out of the lodge to agitate the guys.

Stella waited about 20 minutes before she started getting antsy. She knew that Kayce had other things to worry about, he shouldn’t have to worry about being responsible for her too. She hurried into the bedroom, gripped up the duffel bag, and rushed to the door. She slipped on her boots and threw her hair up in a messy bun that looked slept in. Making her way out the door, she made sure her hand gun was on her hip still and her knife on the other and made sure to close the door behind her.

She looked out by the barn and saw everyone mostly ready. Lloyd had been dubbed the driver of the wagon. Tate climbed up into the cart next to the older man and settled himself in. The little boy looked as if he was vibrating with excitement for this new adventure. Stella’s stomach dropped at the thought of him seeing what had happened to her. She didn’t want him to blame himself. Rip was off to the side holding John’s horse, Red, and Tate’s horse, Lucky. She watched as everyone milled about. Ryan worked on setting up Blue Jeans, exhausted, and quite honestly still looked drunk to Stella. Kayce was on top of Tank, making sure everything was ready to go for their ride. Abigail was tacked up next to him. He must have felt her staring at him because when he looked up they locked eyes.

He noticed she had one of his duffelbags slung on her shoulder, and one of his larger flannels overtop of her t-shirt. His eyes twinkled with affection at her display, and he dismounted from Tank, cutting a path directly to her.

Stella met Kayce and welcomed the soft hug he offered. He carefully transferred the bag to his hand from her shoulder and gave it to Jake to put in the wagon. He looked around to make sure no one was gawking, and scanned his gaze back down to Stella, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead to the left of the healing gash. “I was gonna come get you in a few minutes, I was hoping to give you more time to sleep.”

“Well, luckily for you, I’ve been awake since like quarter of four.” She laughed inwardly.

Kayce made a disapproving face. “Did you sleep at all?”

Stella withdrew from the comfort of his hug and sighed. “Yes, Kayce. I did. On the porch ironically enough. Rip already yelled at me,” she smirked over at Rip who’d been listening in this whole time. “Didn’t you?” He dipped his head in confirmation. She turned back to face Kayce. “And I slept pretty well for the first time in a while. I’m ready to rock and roll. Thank you for getting Abs ready for me.”

Her gaze landed on the mare that she’d only been able to walk around, lunge, and pet due to her restrictions recently. She moved over to her and brushed her hand along the roan’s nose softly. “Hey baby. You ready for an adventure?” Abigail blew a sigh into Stella’s hand.

A throat cleared from behind Stella. John came up beside her. “You sure you’re good to go on the trek?”

Stella bobbed her head. “Yessir. I should be right as rain in no time. I’ll be your buddy for giving everyone else hell.” She giggled quietly. “Besides, I gotta get away from here for a while.” They shared a look because John knew exactly what she meant. She almost died not too far from where they were standing. A little vacation would do her well. John nodded to her and stepped back to let her mount up. He didn’t go too far just in case she fell. Kayce took a few steps closer, joining his father if Stella needed a hand.

Stella stepped forward and placed her left foot in her stirrup. She reached for the horn and tried her best to step up into her saddle without showing the mild discomfort it caused. A quiet groan escaped her barely parted lips. She bent forward to pat Abigail’s neck. “See, girl?” Stella huffed, trying to catch her breath. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?” The large mare grunted back at her as if to say, ‘not for me, but it was awful for you.’

John spotted Jamie as he trotted up to the group. John instantly moved to give him directions. He had other plans for his son in mind. “Stick that horse back in the barn.” He pointed in the building’s general direction. “Move your gear outta the bunkhouse.”

Jamie halted his horse, and his stomach twisted into knots. “Move it where?”

“The lodge.” John explained simply.

Jamie dismounted, ready for an argument. “Why?”

Stella piped up from on top of Abigail. “Uh, sir? That’s where I’m staying.”

John eyeballed his son for questioning him instead of just going with his plan. “Cause I can’t have the Livestock Commissioner living in the bunkhouse.” Jamie took off his hat and shot his dad a questioning glance. “I’ll make the appointment official tomorrow.” John panned his gaze to Stella and continued. “And I’m moving you up to the big house with Kayce.”

Stella’s jaw dropped so fast it almost came unhinged. The tightness in her chest bubbled as she gave a panicked look to Kayce, who looked just as stunned as her, if not more. “Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, sir?”

“Damn it, how many times do I have to tell you to call me John?” He scolded her. “And god damnit why doesn’t anybody just follow my directions?”

“John, you’d kill over if any of us followed your direction blindly.” Stella’s face flattened as she pointed to Rip. “Even Rip questions you from time to time. You’re pissed about something you taught all of us to do.”

“No, it’s what Kayce has taught you to do.” John grumbled.

“Now c’mon, dad.” Kayce tried to interject, but his dad was having none of it this morning.

He pinned Stella to her spot with a look that dared her to defy him any further. “I’m moving you up to the house with Kayce. Gator will move your things before Jamie gets settled in.” John strode over to Jamie and leaned in close. “And if you betray me again? You’re dead to me son, you understand?”

Jamie nodded. “Yes, sir. Thank you.” John pivoted to go get his horse, but Jamie reached out and stopped him. “Dad. I won’t betray you. You have my word.”

“Well,” John cleared his throat. “We’re about to find out what that’s worth.” The air hung heavy between the father and son as John turned back around. Stella shifted in her saddle at the unspoken threat.

The patriarch started doling out orders. “Kayce!” The aforementioned son was stepping up into his saddle. “You and Rip take the wranglers, start pushin’ the herd. We’ll be right behind. Stella, you stay with me and Lloyd.”

“Alright, let’s go,” Rip directed the wranglers.

“Keep an eye on him.” Kayce instructed his dad.

John climbed up onto Red. “You know I will.”

Kayce glanced down at his saddle and tapped the horn. “I’m uh, I’m sorry about the Commission. It’s just not me.”

John rearranged in his saddle. “You’re my son. I know exactly who you are and don’t you ever be sorry for it.” Kayce looked around and walked Tank on. Lloyd and Tate watched as the prodigal son marched away. The little boy stared at Stella with big, sad eyes.

“Are you okay, Aunt Stell?”

Stella took a breath, as deep as she could, and smiled at the youngin’. “Yeah, buddy. I’m okay.” It looked as though Tate’s shoulders dropped in relief. “You should see the other guys.” She winked at him and he smiled at her. He was comforted by the fact that she seemed like her normal self.

Lloyd peeped over Tate’s head to spot John. “We’re ready here, boss.” They observed John taking in the herd and the surrounding nature. “Nothin’ prettier on this earth.”

“It’s as free as a man can be.”

“Makes you wonder,” Lloyd moved the reins around in his hands to have a better grip. “Who’s gonna feed this world when there’s none of us left.”

John laughed. “Nobody, Lloyd. This world’s just gonna go hungry.” He spurred Red into motion. Stella would have galloped off with him but decided against it. She followed beside the cart with Abigail at a fast walk.

[loveforlandonorris]

🎤 Lando at the post-Sprint press conference in Qatar:

Interviewer: Lando, a hard race for you out there, down to 6th at the start, you fought your way through. How tough was it?

Lando: It was very tough. Yeah, any chance to go backwards I pretty much took (laughs). But yeah, just from the right-side of the grid, which was a lot worse than the left, on the Medium, was just always going to be very, very tough. But yeah, I hung on, the first few laps and then just as soon as you got in the rhythm, we had the Safety Cars and so on, the same as the others.

As soon as I caught the Ferrari then he had DRS, so I couldn't get him the first lap, so I was just a little bit like out of rhythm in a way, to get past and keep up with what Max was doing. And then I caught the wet patch in Turn 2, where the guys crashed, so I went backwards again.

Yeah, it’s just not been my weekend in a way, and just made some mistakes here and there, but still fought well and I didn't think I would get George, to be honest, but the DRS was pretty significant. So I managed to get him into Turn 1 from a long way back and yeah, finished with another double podium from McLaren, which is great. But obviously a big congrats to Oscar and Max. I feel like Max has stolen Oscar’s limelight a little bit, but both deserved it today.

Interviewer: As you say it's a double podium for McLaren but are you feeling a little bit frustrated at the moment?

Lando: It depends what with. With myself, I don't think I've ever been so frustrated. Yeah, but with the team, less than ever, you know? The team have done an amazing job. We should've... I don't know, it's always a ‘shoulda, woulda, coulda’, and I'll probably [be] down for a bit, it's... you know?

But I should have been on pole today. I should have at least had a good chance to go for it yesterday against Max, but I just made too many mistakes which have just cost me. Cost me positions today, cost me positions for tomorrow. Now I have to start P10 when we have a good enough car to finish in the top three easily.

So I've just made my life tough, the team's life tough, when it should be the complete opposite and we should be going from the front. But I guess everyone has those weekends.  This is the weekend for me. It's just a shame I'm doing it when the car’s as quick as it is. So that's what makes it more frustrating.

 Interviewer: What is it about the car that is proving so tricky for you?

Lando: Nothing. Just a lack of talent. 

 Interviewer: Alright, let's throw it forward to tomorrow's grand prix, Lando. You're starting, as you say, P10. What can you do from there?

Lando: I hope a lot (smiles). I just need to stay out of carnage. You know, the first couple of corners are pretty sketchy. Depending on what tyres we start on, and so on, but the main thing is staying out of harm's way the first few laps. We have the pace, I think we have reasonable degradation, maybe not the best, compared to the Red Bulls, but reasonable degradation.

So yeah, we want to score good points. I think we have pace to be on the podium but whether we can do it or not from P10 is going to be the question. So, it's a long race, we don't know what rules and stuff Pirelli are going to make us do with the tyres and things like that yet, but we'll find out soon.

[sergeantnarwhalwrites]

Writing Share Tag

Thanks for the tag @illarian-rambling! I'm hopping on a little late. I'm still not fully caught up but I'm almost there. I will be using this as a quick write space for something I've been trying to write XD.

I tag: @vacantgodling @aether-wasteland-s @cryptid-s-wips @pinespittinink @the-void-writes (Only if you want! Open tag too.)

"You're pretty violent for a girl named Peace." Green said still frazzled.

Peace looked like she was gonna bend down and choke her. Green probably deserved it. Didn't make it any less painless but Green wasn't gonna fight back. Too much anyway. She was a bit beaten up. Her bottom lip was swelling and there was still a rock or two in her shoes.

"Because you're fucking stupid." Peace forced out through her teeth.

Green placed her hands on the rug in Peace's room. Grunting as she went to lift herself. Cursing with a gasp when Peace kicked her chest. Forcing her back down in a heap. Her temper flared towards the protester.

"I fucked up a bit. Ain't worth kickin' me!"

"I should be ringing your neck in front of your crew. What the fuck were you doing in high security areas? You know the bots can record you trespassing."

Green rolled her eyes, voice rising to an amused rumble, "So you're worried? Coulda just said that menace."

Peace slapped her hand over her mouth and screamed into it, a bit breathless she spoke.

"I'm always worried about you. That's not the point," Peace took a shaky breath, "They live stream it."

Green released a stream of curses and started digging through her pockets. She fished out a crumpled napkin. Opening it to the scrawled numbers.

"You known about that little update long?" Green asked unbuttoning the top few buttons on her shirt, reaching her hand in to pull out a sweaty flip phone.

"Found out yesterday. I'd have reached out sooner if I knew you had a job planned so soon."

Green grunted a noise of confirmation. Throwing the phone open with a flick of the wrist. A loud droning of peeps sounding out as she pressed the keys.

"How'd you find out?"

"I don't think I should tell you that."

Green glared at the woman towering over her as she talked into the phone, "Those old bots that should've been quick money ain't that. You still want this job done?"

Peace tried to pick out any key words from the person on the other end. Unable to do so she met gazes with Green's annoyed glare.

"Triple the price and give me bail." Green stated calmly, flicker of amusement flashing through her eyes at Peace's returning irritation.

Green ended the call after a variety of grunts, grumbles, and negotiations. Enough time passing for Peace to sit in her chair nearby. She closed the phone far more careful than she opened it. Tucking it back into her bra. She rose to her feet with a bit of a stumble, composed pretty well for how weary she was beginning to feel.

"Later Peace."

Peace shook her head, "Green, just stay the night."

Green grinned, crooked as usual. Felt more like Peace was being mocked at this point.

"I've got a job to finish," Green stated grabbing Peace's hand, "Guess I should say sorry. So I'm sorry menace."

"Can you even say why you're apologizing?"

"Obviously cause you want to hear it."

Peace rolled her eyes and held Green's hand. Locking their fingers. Releasing begrudgingly when she felt resistance.

[aidenlyons]

Rocco can't put it off anymore. Bancroft knows he's back home. He's made his decision, now he just has to go through with it.

After Bancroft lets him in, he leads him to his larger office. The one for business meetings.

B: How was your trip, Rocco? You were gone quite a long time.

R: Yeah. Info was harder to find than I thought.

B: And?

R: The results were.. disappointing.

B: How so?

R: Military's records were spotty. Nothing to suggest anything odd.

B: And your suspicions?

R: Probably paranoia. Dealt with occult for too many years. Hard not to see it sometimes. Even if it's not there.

B: You're sure? You seemed very certain when you left.

This isn't the first time Rocco has lied to Bancroft. Not that his boss is aware of either incident.

R: I hate admittin' when I'm wrong. You know that. Hell if I can find a real connection.

B: So this Ghost is..?

R: Probably some shady as hell government agent.

B: The boy's father?

R: Can't say for sure. Kid's dad coulda just been a deadbeat. Better off forgotten.

Rocco can tell this isn't what Bancroft wants to hear. He was probably thinking up things he could do.

Rocco's not a good man. He's comfortable with violence. Doesn't even feel bad about it, 95% of the time. But there are things he won't do.

Colby was right. Aiden Lyons seemed like a good kid.

Kid like that doesn't deserve to be tainted by men like him and Bancroft.

B: I'm disappointed in you, Rocco. I've come to expect better work from you.

R: Oh, go to hell, Damion. Can't find somethin' that's not there. Yah, I'm good. I ain't THAT good.

Now Rocco's getting pissed. If he felt bad for lying, he doesn't anymore.

B: Are you sure that you're telling me everything?

R: Anything I'm not, ain't relevant. You wanted me to find out about the kid. I did. My lead didn't pan out. Job done.

B: Touchy tonight.

R: Not a fan of my integrity being questioned.

Ironic. All things considered.

B: So that's it. Dead end all around? Nothing remarkable about Mr. Lyons?

R: Looks that way. Jut a normal, run of the mill, boring kid. Maybe nicer'n most.

B: I see. Well. I suppose we'll just have to wait and see.

R: Yeah. Do me a favor. Don't call me for a while. I got some personal shit I have to sort through.

B: I didn't think you had a personal life.

R: Lotsa things you don't know about me. We done?

B: It seems so.

Does Bancroft seem.. disappointed? That Rocco isn't flirting? Huh.

Normally Rocco might flirt, try for a quick tumble with Bancroft. Today the man's just pissed him off too much. Not that he's opposed to a little angry woohoo. Just not today. Or at least, not with Bancroft. He'd rather just go home for now. He needs a little "me" time.

[dogmatik]

under a readmore bc its long and pretty boring, just a unfinished day in the life type thing with billy and stu. cannot for the Life of me find the fic that inspired stus weird dead-shit photography, but ill keep looking and link it when i do.

There’s a polaroid of a squirrel on Stus messy desk. The thing looks pretty much the same as it would any other time, except its laying on the asphalt with all its little legs spread wide. There's a smear of red next to its nose, but other than that, it looks like the little creature could hop up a tree any second. Billy picks up the picture, finding another underneath. Same squirrel, different angle, same sleeping-with-its-eyes-open look. Billy remembers when he first saw Stu’s weird photography. They’d been around 12, Stu’s parents got him a polaroid for his birthday, and he took pictures of everything. There were some of his family, friends at school, trees at the park, but there were some others too. Stu had this dumb Transformers binder full of images. There were a lot stuffed in the back pocket, and Billy has never been very concerned with the privacy of others.

Stu had come back to his room with some goldfish to find Billy in the middle of his bedroom floor, surrounded by square pictures of dead raccoons and dried up little birds. “You’re such a freak.” Billy had said, eyes trained on an especially unfortunate cat.

“Wanna do Leprechaun 2?” Billy hears Stu ask behind him, the sound of VHS boxes being shuffled. “We’ve watched that like 4 times this week.” “Still got it for a couple days.” more shuffling, Billy sets down the photograph of the squirrel and plops into the chair at Stus desk, watching the other boy rearrange his collection of tapes. “Is that Brainscan?” Stu pauses, tracks Billy's eyes. He holds up the tape. “Yeah, you wanna watch it?” “I thought that was a rental too.” “Nah, bought it. Randy came over to watch it like, fifteen times. Kid loves this movie!” Billy rolls his eyes. “He would.” Stu sets it firmly in the “No” pile, and keeps shuffling. “April Fool's?” Billy thinks for a second. “Sure, I’ll go make popcorn.” Stu starts switching tapes. “Coulda done that while I looked!” Billy doesn't acknowledge him, just heads down the stairs to Stu’s kitchen. The house is quiet, empty but for the two boys. Stu’s parents are always on some trip, or business thing, or generally anywhere but home. Stu doesn't complain much, being so used to it. Billy appreciates it, always good to have a place without somebody's parents around that isn't the mall or school. Stu’s pantry is always full, popcorn and soda and junk, what you’d expect leaving a 17 year old alone with two weeks of grocery money. Billy snags some jiffy pop, sets the stove on and wanders the kitchen. He’s been coming to the Macher’s since grade school, knows where they keep the big popcorn bowls and butter.

He knows where the knives are too, and not for the first time this week, hell not for the first time tonight he wonders what Stu’s face would look like if he came upstairs with a knife instead of snacks. He’d think he was joking, probably. Make some dumb joke about teenagers being left alone making bad choices. He wonders how fast Stu would catch on, how long it’d take for that ever-present grin to slip. Would he fight him? He’d probably try to take the knife, and he just might be able to. He hasn't wrestled Stu in years now, but he's always been bigger. Clumsy maybe, but that wingspan might just be enough to compensate. He thinks that makes it better, more exciting if there's a fight. He’s never drawn blood from a person before, even in scraps with the neighbors’ kids over who’s turn it was to do whatever they spent their afternoons doing. Or jokes about his mom he took too seriously. He’s pretty sure Stu would put up a good fight, the thought makes his pulse quick. Billy realizes he's spent too much time fantasizing about blades and chokeholds when he smells something burning. He whips around to find the popcorn billowing dark smoke, goes to grab the handle just as the fire alarm starts its shril ring. Over it he can hear “Billy?” from up stairs, followed by lots of thumping. The handle sends a white hot pain through his palm, and he has just enough time to throw it into the sink. “What the hell man!” Stu sounds angry, but mostly just looks surprised. “Get the fucking alarm will you?” Billy snaps, and even after Stu clambers onto a chair and turns the damn thing off, Billy can still hear it in his skull. He’s turned on the tap, the fire sputtering and hissing under the spray. “Why'd you burn the popcorn?” “Like I did it on purpose?” Billy leans against the counter, looks at his palm. There’s a streak of white across it, the skin turned bright pink at the edges. “You okay?” Stu asks, softer than Billy thinks he’s ever heard him. Sorta like when he’s talking in the library, but calmer. Stu’s never been able to sit still, never been able to keep quiet. Billy remembers being annoyed by it, but mostly jealous. Jealous because even when he did laugh too loud in the library, or thump into some fragile shelf, people mostly just laughed. They gave him an endeared head shake and sent him off to expend his energy elsewhere. Billy never got to let go like that, always one too many grimaces or scoffs away from being sent to detention or his fucking room.

Billy looks up, watches as Stu’s bright blue eyes shift from his face to his palm. “We should get some ice for that.” Stu pulls open the freezer, pushing aside french fries and nuggets to get to the ice packs at the bottom. “It’s fine, doesn't even hurt.” Billy says, but takes the ice pack once it's wrapped in a dish towel. “Seriously man, what gives. You been like, super spacey.” There’s a popcorn kernel on the floor, half popped, blending into the light tiles. He’s pretty sure he can smell singed skin, but maybe that's just him being morbid again. Billy’s pulled roughly from his thoughts by Stu snapping in his face “Earth to Bill!” He says, and Billy slaps his hand away “Fuck off Macher, I just forgot about it. There wasn't an actual fire, was there? I’ll open the windows and it’ll be like nothing happened”. “Man, that's not the point! You been weird all day. Not even the fun weird. You okay?”

Billy hates that. Such a stupid waste of time question. When's he ever been able to answer honestly?. People like him can't, not unless they wanna get locked up in some padded hole somewhere. “I don't know. Probably.” Billy answered, more honest than he meant. Stu looks at him like he gets it, this serious expression on his face, like the one he gets when he's real focused on landing a trick on his skateboard. Then he grins, all teeth, and turns to leave the kitchen. “I got an idea! C’mon kid!” Stu yells from the garage door, and Billy’s stunned enough to follow.

Stu’s parents are some of the few people on the planet who actually have useful junk in their garage. All power tools and fishing equipment and snow gear. Billy thinks about the rubbermaid bins in his parents shed out back, baby clothes they're never gonna touch again and tchotchkes pushed on them by a dead relative. Billy’s fiddling with a golf club when Stu emerges from further in the garage, some hard case in his hand. “Check it out! My mom got me this for Christmas. Not time yet, but what she don't know won't hurt her.”

[writteninsunshine]

Long Brooding Over Those Lost Pleasures Exaggerates Their Charm And Sweetness - Fizzarolli/Asmodeus - SFWish

Title: Long Brooding Over Those Lost Pleasures Exaggerates Their Charm And Sweetness

Author: Keith

Fandom: Helluva Boss

Setting: Ozzie’s House

Pairing: Fizzarolli/Asmodeus | Ozzie

Characters: Fizzarolli, Asmodeus | Ozzie

Genre: Romance

Rating: T

Chapters: 1/1

Word Count: 1223

Type Of Work: One-Shot, Gift for Sin

Status: Complete

Warnings: Gay, Slash, Yaoi, MLM, Mpreg, Male Pregnancy, Pregnancy, Both Lovers Are Pregnant, Nesting, Egg-Laying, Insomnia, Fluff, I Exaggerate Ozzie’s Roostery Bits

Disclaimer: I don’t own anything!

Summary: What in the seven layers was he doing?

AN: Hey guys, it’s me again! Just thought I ought to say, if you want vague updates and to talk to me more, I have a Helluva Boss Tumblr, too! Tumblr is Gimme-A-Thrust! I also have a writing Discord that is currently pretty dead. xD If you want it, please contact me on Tumblr!

This is a gift for my friend @charsawdeath! I wanted to help cheer them up, and I thought one of our conversations was really cute, so I wanted to give this a try! It’ll be the first thing I finish for them, though I have a couple of trades that I owe, too! Regardless, I hope this helps put you in better spirits, Sin. You deserve it ; u;

Helluva Boss Fic Masterlist

Long Brooding Over Those Lost Pleasures Exaggerates Their Charm And Sweetness

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Groaning softly, Fizzarolli shook his head as he placed it in his hand, pacing in the living room for possibly the eight billionth time. His other hand was pressed to the side of his distended stomach, and he felt something shift and it only made him whine. Following his worn trail around the coffee table, to the entertainment system, behind Ozzie’s armchair, and back again, and again, and again, he had been taking this route for what felt like half of his life. It was such a breath of fresh air to beeline for the armchair instead of the entertainment system that he growled in frustration. This. Wasn’t. Working.

The pregnant imp was so damn tired, but every time he got comfortable the triplets would see to it that that would come to a quick, untimely end. While he wasn’t entirely sure what his thought process had been for wearing himself out, he was hoping it would all work out in the end. In comparison, Ozzie’s pregnancy was going swimmingly, from what he could see, even if he’d had his issues. Fizzy figured a lot of it had to do with the fact that Ozzie probably had much smaller babies, whereas he was smuggling a couple of bowling balls under his shirt at the best of times.

Sure, Ozzie had said something about eggs, but at least eggs didn’t punch you in the bladder. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t love the three little darlings growing inside of him, but he’d do anything to catch a break.

With another irritated grunt, he glared at his stomach for a moment, mumbling a few half-formed words before he sighed, closing his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it,” He promised, “But if you three don’t let me sleep, I’ll–” Yelping suddenly as he was lifted by the back of his shirt, Fizzarolli clung to it tightly so he wouldn’t drop to the floor. Shooting a scowl up at his lover’s chin, he huffed, wrapping his arms around the back of Ozzie’s neck instead of letting the threat of slipping out of his shirt stay over his head, “What the shit bagels are you doing?”

“Temper, Baby, you’re gonna be a mama soon,” Ozzie chuckled, and Fizz took note of how the elder demon was walking on all fours, his large hands splayed over the wood beneath them. His dainty little talons took only to the toes in the back, and he’d had his lover’s nightshirt clutched in his beak. Without having to carry him like that anymore, though, he spoke freely despite Fizzarolli’s clearly spoiled mood, “Now, now, don’t look at me like that. I’m helping.”

“You don’t think you coulda done that, I dunno, a few months ago?” Fizzarolli groused, chittering with a dramatic growl. They were both lucky he didn’t deign to cross his arms out of reflex, but he did bring his legs up more and crossed them against his belly to take some of the strain off of the rest of his body.

“I’ve been helping, you’re just in a shit mood, and I can fix that.”

“No. No sex right now, I’m not rewarding this behavior.”

“Who said it had to be sex, Baby?” Ozzie tutted at him playfully, and Fizz pouted at their bedroom door. When he pushed it open with his foot for both of them, what he saw on the bed took him a little by surprise, and his head tilted.

“Uhhh… I mean… Usually, I’d say it’s kinda… Your thing, but… Ozzie?”

“Yeah, Baby?” The King didn’t stop walking except to kick the door shut behind them, lumbering into their bedroom and towards the bed.

“What am I looking at right now?” 

The sheet, the thinner blankets used for quick clean-ups, and the thick downy comforter that Ozzie refused to not have on his bed had been more or less wound together in a large, open ‘O’ in the center of the bed. Every pillow in the bedroom, and what looked like maybe even every pillow in the house lay inside it, the mattress only an afterthought. Ozzie had a nice-ass, huge-ass bed, and Fizzarolli was never one to hate on it. It was comfortable no matter how much he wound into a pretzel, and he never really needed it to be made better.

“Nest.” The simple explanation still didn’t exactly tell him anything, and Fizz pouted up at his lover as he climbed onto the bed. Notably, he was still walking like a small dog carrying a toy too large in its mouth, and when he finally came to a stop over the nest he’d built, he lowered his chest towards the pillows until Fizzarolli could let go. Guiding him to lay down in the center of the nest where there was a purposeful divot made for him, Ozzie purred. With him laid out on his side, Ozzie fluffed the fabric around him, covering him somewhat as he clucked softly for him.

Fizzarolli had heard that the Sins could be pretty feral sometimes, instinctual even to a fault, but he’d never actually witnessed it in any of them. Maybe he didn’t know most of them all that well, but he would have thought that he’d have seen Ozzie like this before, at least… But he never had.

“Okay, so, why are you nesting me–”

“Us.” There Ozzie was again with the one-word answers. He cooed quietly, a purr undercutting his breaths and words, and he hummed a little as he draped the soft throw blanket over Fizzarolli’s hips. With a finalized little warble, he crawled forward a little more, settling his body over the nest. From what he could tell, the Sin above him had taken into account his size, how pregnant they both were, and where he was going to put Fizzarolli to make sure it was safe and comfortable.

The steady gunfire of Ozzie’s buk-buk-buk ba-gwaking still confused him, because it wasn’t often that Ozzie acted like this, but… Well, he’d overheard Mammon having a whisper-yelling match with him, and one thing he took away from it was that Ozzie had never been pregnant before, either. Over six thousand years old, and some little imp from the Greed ring had managed to be the first one to get him to actually lay. 

Sometimes he felt so lucky, but right now it was more… Surprise. Ozzie wasn’t usually like this, but as the larger demon settled over him, he still felt pretty irritable.

“Ozz, I can’t sleep if I’m–”

“Shhh.” Ozzie’s one-word responses were starting to get on his nerves, and he’d been about ready to snap at him when the louder purring warbles had started. With the warmth, the softness, the comfort he was wrapped in, combined with the familiar weight of his lover and whatever he was doing with his voicebox, Fizzarolli couldn’t keep his eyelids open. Despite the frustration he’d been feeling, all fight drained out of him as Ozzie more or less sang him to sleep, and he curled against him happily, purring in response. When it cut suddenly, they were both more or less asleep, resting happily against each other.

Now, if only they’d started this sooner, maybe Fizzarolli would have had less of a bad day. He could get used to being nested, even after the babies were born.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

AN: It’s kind of short, I know, but it was easier to get something short done faster. I hope you liked it!

[quirkthieves]

if katsuki could laugh at how fucking stupid this all was, he would’ve.

building collapses weren’t anything new.  heroes see it all the time, especially when it was one of the more common collaterals, even when you go through all the effort to prevent it to keep civilians safer.  villains typically grab the blame for every building collapsed where applicable.  heroes only cop it when they’re capable of toppling them in the first place and the villain most certainly is not  -  hence, going through everything you can to prevent it.

and in katsuki’s defence, he had done everything he could.  he is not an inherently reckless person.  in his environments, bakugou katsuki cannot afford to let loose explosions to cover every inch of a battlefield, not when so many of those battles take place in the heart of cities and there are thousands of civilians nearby.

now, when he and monoma neito are tasked to the same job, it’s to none of their classmates’ surprise that they bicker the entire time.  it usually catches the villain of the week off-guard, and that’s probably why the two have such a high success rate despite their public…  animosity toward each other.  even when the villain doesn’t seem so taken aback by their outward stances, they hadn’t exactly encountered a problem big enough that demanded they actually pulled their heads in the game.

so they never did.

katsuki kind of wished they thought of that earlier.

then maybe, he wouldn’t have been caught by the villain and beamed at with horrid intent, pale jade-like gaze staring owlishly at him, nails digging into skin before getting tossed away.  maybe the building she targeted would’ve been fine, and katsuki wouldn’t have immediately rushed to the other blond at the smallest hint of danger, tackling him and trapping him under as the building came down around them.  maybe, instead of a concussion and a nasty gash that’s bleeding a bit too much and a mangled leg (because thank god it isn’t his fucking arm, he guesses), he could be pinning down the villain and getting her tossed into custody.

he doesn’t know the villain’s quirk.  he knows that they’re in a very tight, enclosed space, but if he even dares think about detonating the nitroglycerin on his palms, he might be jeopardising what little air supply they might have.  he doesn’t know.  was there any spot where oxygen could come in?  a lot of uncertainties bubble up and sit heavily in his throat, but first-

“you’re a fucking asshole,” he snaps out through gritted teeth, checking to see if he has the room to move and check his leg.  he can’t tell.  he tries to keep his breath steady, at the least.  “you definitely coulda gotten out of the way.  prick.”

the stress of the situation is already getting to him.

katsuki hadn’t noticed the way his strength began to quickly seep away from him, but he is quick to recognise the trembling in his arms.  crimson eyes squeeze shut, taking in a slow and deep breath, slowly straightening his arms out more.  he can’t tell if something is above him.  is that why he’s struggling?  shit.  what if he is supporting the infrastructure, and he shouldn’t move in case it puts them in a worse position?

the tremor grows worse in his arms, especially his right.  he feels the muscles give out within seconds.  he tries to settle the arm in a planking position instead, relying on his good one to hold him upright for long enough, but that one gives out soon enough as well  -  weight eventually collapsing on the other below, the suddenness of it jostling the gash and coaxing a long string of swears from the blond.  panic sets in.

…  but no crushing weight on his back.

so the debris was shifting before, but it hasn’t completely collapsed yet.  that’s good.  they have more time.  or-  or at least, monoma has more time.  katsuki isn’t sure if his running good luck timer is still ticking or not.

all this to save the most obnoxious little war criminal he’s ever had the misfortune of knowing.  [but that’s what a hero does, is it not?]  “... dun move,” he eventually says.  his head finds purchase on the other’s shoulder  -  because that feels a little less embarrassing, and a part of him just hopes that spiky blond being so close to the other’s face will deter him from looking too close at him.  at the blood that’s from the concussive hit to head. from the way it's finally getting into one red eye, forcing him to shut it.  “just-  stay fuckin’ still.”

whenever he makes it out of here, he is never going to live this down.  but he has to make it out first.

Monoma had gotten a little too arrogant, that's true. A little too loose with his observations, mugging the spotlight for a little too long and becoming more focused on provoking their enemy than in stopping them.

Monoma gets this rude awakening in the form of Bakugo slamming into his back and throwing them both to the ground as the building crumbles. He swears, mostly at the impact, struggling to re-orient himself-- and by the time he does, he realizes that Bakugo has him pinned and that his pin might be the only reason Monoma's forehead scar didn't have a new little brother.

Marvelous.

"And you could've minded your own business, but here we are." He snaps back, although it's quite clear he doesn't mean it. It's not like Monoma didn't understand the severity of the situation, or the severity of Bakugo's injuries. He knows Bakugo would hate it if he pointed this out. So he doesn't.

The last thing they need is another heart attack.

For Neito, the rest of their little eternity is spent trying to scan the scenery for any sign of a way out, peppered with spikes of fear whenever Bakugo's muscles twitched, when he collapsed onto him, and when the blood from his head injury began puddling into the fabric of Neito's suit. Head injuries are famously bloody-- but the fact it had been bleeding continuously this long was troubling.

"I'm sorry." He says after a long while, after Bakugo breaks their silence with his orders to not move. "I'm sorry I got us into this mess." He's sure, that if Bakugo were alone, he would try to blast his way out-- no, if Bakugo were alone, he would have never gotten in this situation at all. Monoma's one advantage was his flexibility; but even if he was willing to blast his own way out and deal with the resulting risk, Bakugo was on top of him. He'd be the first at risk. Monoma was utterly useless here-- no, more than useless. This was, after all, his fault.

His hand comes up to the back of Bakugo's head, stroking the hair in an unusually tender manner. Whether it was to soothe himself or Bakugo, he couldn't say. Monoma feels unnervingly calm, heartbeat even underneath the straining flutter of his companion's. He surveys the confines of their shared coffin. No, coffin wasn't the word for it. It'd have to be a casket, he thinks, with the slight arch of the rubble making up the ceiling. The shape reminds him of a slightly bent card holding a wonderful prize underneath, entirely out of sight.

And then, as Monoma often does, he thinks about how you cheat at that sort of card game. Stacking and replacing the bent cards with fast shuffles and expert delicacy. And then he had an idea, one he's sure is terrible and potentially dangerous, but it was something. And what was Monoma if not a master of sleight of hand?

"I'm sorry." He says again, taking another few moments to hold Bakugo close in an approximation of a gentle hug. Then his hand leaves Bakugo's head, and he begins slowly arching his back. His abdominal muscles strain, but the low back bridge isn't anything unusual for him. The next part is the hard one.

He bends his shoulder in a way he really ought not to; but Monoma Neito hasn't ever been one to let that stop him, and gets his elbow underneath himself. Carefully, delicately, but by no means slowly, he shimmies out from underneath Bakugo, back almost scraping against the rubble as he pulls himself up and over top of the other student. He feels bad for how much Bakugo had to be jostled, but he's satisfied with the result.

Sort of, at least. They're still stuck, but Monoma has a bit more room to work with.

"How much pain are you in, and where? Don't lie to me to look tough-- I need to know to figure out what I'm going to do next."

[byanyan]

@quick-drawn sent:ㅤ❛ you’re lucky y'got away with only a scratch. if that's what you can call this... ❜ 

assorted dialogue promptsㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting )

ㅤㅤ" yeah, yeah. says the guy who wasn't even there. "ㅤsomehow more irritable than usual, byan rolls their eyes. they knew it was a mistake coming here of all places after what had turned out to be such a perilous pickpocketing gone wrong, but the stupid fucking bar with the stupid fucking cowboy inside was the closest place and their arm wouldn't stop bleeding. it's possible they could have made it back to the group home, but they probably would have had to sacrifice their hoodie to staunch the bleeding, and then would have had to deal with a lot more questions, accusations, and lectures if they were caught before they could sneak to their room.

...out of the two options, the nosy cowboy is, regrettably, the lesser of two evils.

ㅤㅤ" 'f it's not bad enough to need the hospital, it's a scratch, "ㅤthey continue stubbornly, eyeing the gash along their tattooed bicep and the medical supplies that have been pulled out to deal with it. arguably they should go to the hospital, considering the wound requires several stitches, but that's not severe enough by their standards. they know how to stitch an injury just fine on their own — but apparently, so does cassidy, if his insistence on helping is any indication.

ㅤㅤ" christ, could you hurry it up a bit? i coulda been done with this by now if you'd just let me do it myself. "ㅤimpatience brings a sharper edge to their tone as they shift in their seat, fingers tapping a rapid, almost anxious pattern on the table's surface. gaze following the other's hands watchfully as he finally wets a cotton pad with antiseptic, byan's body tenses instinctively when it then moves toward their arm — they aren't so much bracing themself for the pain as they are for cassidy's touch. maybe they should trust it by now, given that he hasn't done anything truly terrible to them in all the time they've known him, but they don't. they can't. not yet.

the antiseptic-soaked pad swipes along their arm, cleaning the wound and wiping away the blood, and the only indication of the intense sting that the solution causes is the odd twitch of byan's eye. so far, things are... fine. for such rough looking hands, he's surprisingly gentle, though something tells them he's being intentionally careful so as to avoid spooking them. ...they hate that it's working.

this is the easy part, though. the real test will be letting him thread a needle through their skin.

ㅤㅤ" you better close this thing tight, "ㅤbyan mutters once their arm has been thoroughly cleaned and the cotton pad is traded for a sterile needle, shooting cassidy a look to show how serious they are. while they do mean what they say, they mostly say it to hear themself talk, to soothe some of their nerves and hide the discomfort they feel in allowing the other this amount of control over the situation.ㅤ" i swear to god, if this leaves more of a gap in my tattoo than it needs to, i will make the rest of your life utterly miserable. you'll never have another day of peace again. i can and will take time out of my day, every single day, to ruin yours. "

[ophelia-jones]

Daryl saw the Walkers before he saw Etta. They were just a peripheral impression, barely worth wasting brain energy on. Passing walkers while on the motorcycle was like what it had once been to see a deer in a field while driving past on the highway. You'd probably notice but there would be no interaction and no second thoughts about it once they were out of sight. But something in the back of his head told him to look closer - look again.

Etta was halfway up a maple tree, but there were three walkers at the base of the tree, clawing, grabbing at her. Before he could bring the motorcycle to a full stop, he saw her strike one in the temple with her foot and saw the creature's head explode like a ripe melon. But there were two more on her and who knew how many had been drawn by the sound of his engine.

He ditched the bike as he tried to take the turn too fast and it skidded across the pavement. He hit the ground running toward Etta, a knife in each hand by the time he got to her, making quick work of the walkers that still had her trapped. He saw there were two more she had dispatched before he had even noticed her there. She was just out of reach in the tree, clinging to it like a koala bear.

"Hi," Daryl said, waving once as he looked up at her. He'd rarely been so happy to see anyone. Etta laughed out loud at the sight of him; or maybe at his awkward greeting, remembering how It had been all she could think to say after they'd slept together the first time. He remembered, at least. That old awkwardness that always overcame him when it came to emotions was whispering in his ear, trying to make him shut up or shut down.

"Hi," she replied, laughing like a lunatic at the surreal absurdity of the moment.

"You gonna come down? Cause I don't know the words to Romeo and Juliet or whatever princess in the tower shit." Daryl squinted up at Etta and she had to close her eyes for a moment and catch her breath before clambering down the tree. As she did, Daryl could see that she had what he recognized to be arborist's spurs on her legs; a rig one would strap onto each shin and foot which could be used to help gain purchase when climbing a tree. They were used in conjunction with a rope and carabiner usually - or had been designed to.

"You coulda just bullshitted it, I wouldn't have known the difference," she told Daryl as she descended the tree. He could see she had modified the spurs for her purposes of climbing a tree by hand and foot with no time for rigging a rope. In each hand, she held a rock climber's hammer fitted with a leather strap to keep it attached to her wrist even if her fingers had lost their grip.

"I'll remember that," Daryl murmured as he looked her over to see if she was bitten. It looked like the only blood on her was from the walkers.

"You look good," he told her and Etta nearly doubled over with laughter at the supreme awkwardness of the moment.

"I haven't bathed in nearly three months, and yet I believe you meant that," she told him, her cheeks hurting from smiling so hard. She hadn't done that in three months, either.

"Me neither," Daryl quipped, starting Etta to giggle again. He blushed slightly and looked around for any signs of more danger.

"I noticed," she teased as her laughter subsided, but her joke held no cruelty, no hint of criticism. It was just something to say, something rude to deflect any disturbing emotions which might be trying to get out. She had never been good at showing emotion. Hell, she wasn't even good at feeling emotion. Being alone with her thoughts was the hardest thing she'd had to do these past months. Other than surviving, there hadn't been much to do except think.

"Come back to Alexandria with me," Daryl said, scratching the back of his head nervously.

"Daryl, I…"

"Naw, I ain't taking no, just come on. Get on the bike." Daryl started toward the motorcycle and picked it up, swinging one massive leg over it and starting the engine which had stalled out after being dropped. Etta smiled at him, following slowly.

"Well, I have been sad I never got to ride on her. Any chance I can drive?" she asked cheekily.

"Just get on back and hold on," Daryl told her as if tired of her, but it was delivered with such good humor she could not mistake it for anything other than friendly banter. So Etta did as he said, straddling the bike behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist. She closed her eyes and rested her head against his back. She wanted to capture this moment and put it in a jar like a firefly. Something to look at when she couldn't find the light anywhere else.

The others were eating and sitting quietly, taking in the surprise of finding an entire village of people living together peacefully. Sharing work and supplies, reaching out to others rather than simply doing for themselves. It was like a dream, and those under 13 had no memory of living like this at all. They'd been too young when the outbreak happened and had been through too much at a young age.

"Etta! You came back!" Olivia declared happily, little Vida rushing to hug her as well.

"Yeah, I decided maybe a shower and a good night's sleep might be worth a few hours lost getting back," she told them, picking both girls up and swinging them back and forth as she hugged them. In most ways, these kids had it harder than she had at their age. But they knew only a gentle kind of love from the women who had raised them; something Etta had never known as a child. And she would do everything she could to keep it that way.

"Good idea," Shondra told her, coming to hug Etta and collect Vida who would not let her favorite auntie go. She'd been gone for weeks and weeks, then showed up to help take them on this adventure to a strange new place. Vida was afraid if she let go, Etta would go missing again.

"I'll see you again soon," Etta assured the kids as she started walking deeper into town, away from where the refugees were resting.

"You know why they're here," Etta commented as Daryl fell into step beside her. He nodded silently.

"You must have so many questions," she said softly. The empathy in her voice caught Daryl off guard, he had expected her to be either apologetic or defensive. Instead, she was concerned about him. This was not a common occurrence in his life.

"Yeah, I heard they - you - are trying to save him. I don't understand why, and I don't want to," he told her honestly.

"Yeah, I don't entirely," she informed him with a nod. "I won't try to explain if you don't want me to. But if there is anything I CAN say? Anything you DO want to know? I'll tell you the truth. I've already lost everything I tried to keep by not just owning up to what I knew once I heard your side. I can't make it any worse than I already did." she told Daryl gently, watching him from the corner of her eye. She was overwhelmed by his presence; she had honestly expected to never be this close to him again.

"Do you love him?" he asked after a moment of contemplation.

"No. No, it was never love. At least not beyond the bond of simply coexisting peacefully as human beings. If you mean did I have sex with him, then, yes. A few times over three months or so. It was not emotional, it was a diversion. It was years of not being touched tenderly. But it wasn't about love." She told him, and when she saw the emotions rage inside of him, she did grow defensive despite having promised herself she could simply state the facts.

"You may be a rock, Daryl, who can go years without needing to be touched - but I needed it and my opportunities were limited. It was a man twenty years older than myself whose past was suspicious or a teenage boy, eleven years younger than me whom I considered to be my brother," she told him with an edge of bitterness in her tone. Daryl hung his head slightly as he considered her words.

"I'm not a rock," he muttered. "I'm scared. I lost too many people, and it doesn't hurt less no matter how many times I have been through it. It's not that I don't feel anything - I feel too damned much."

Etta's heart ached at his words, his honesty. He had trusted her in a way he seldom trusted anyone, and she had violated that.

"I was selfish. I should have been thinking about you but all I could think about was holding on to you. I didn't want it to be over, I wasn't ready to lose you. I just kept thinking if we could make it a little bit longer. One more day, one more kiss! I should have been thinking about how that was making it worse for you. The longer I lied to you, the more it would hurt when you found out."

"It's hard to trust you, now," he told her. She nodded, looking away so he wouldn't see her blink away the tears she was fighting. They walked in silence for a while before Etta turned to him and said,

"I have no idea where I'm going, by the way. I'm just walking around aimlessly. But you're following me, so there's that."

Daryl looked down at her, his silver-blue eyes narrowed, a slight smile on his lips.

"There's something wrong with you," he replied, shaking his head with amusement.

"and yet YOU'RE the one following ME." she nudged his shoulder with her own. He smiled a little more broadly. He had missed this.

"You hungry?" he asked, turning the corner toward the little house he had taken as his own after Rick and Michonne had become a couple. Before that, they had all been staying in the big house which was now the Grimes family home.

"Well, I've been living on moss and squirrel turds for a couple of months so, yeah, I could eat," she replied and Daryl laughed.

"Something wrong with you," he muttered again, but as they fell into a step toward his house, he reached over and clasped her hand lightly with his own.

Having this time to think - and having so many people he respected insist on telling him they thought he had been wrong to assume Etta had been out to hurt him from the beginning - had been good for him. When his emotions were high, it was always anger that took control.

Now? All he wanted to do was hold her, tell her he had missed her - and that he loved her. He was sorry, too, for the way he had left her that day. But emotions like that just got caught in Daryl's throat. So all he could think to do was hold her hand.

When Verity heard the key turn in the door she assumed it was Dwight or one of the other Saviors, though it was at an unusual time. She was half asleep on the sofa, her mind miles away as she dozed in the late afternoon sun like a cat. There were so few luxuries left in life, but there were a few which had existed since time began and which could not be taken away. This was Verity's.

"Well shit, I wanted to see if you were holding up, but you look like you're doing pretty fucking good without me. Guess it shouldn't fucking surprise me," Negan said, standing at the end of the sofa and looking straight down at her.

Verity snapped out of her doze, sitting up in such a rush that it made her vision fade for a minute.

"Hey, you," she greeted him sleepily. She didn't want to be happy to see him. It wasn't healthy, she knew, to love someone so much. She had already ruined Haven and risked the well-being of other people who had counted on her. But she knew she wouldn't have the strength to change it if she went back, she wouldn't trade the time she'd had with him.

Those big brown eyes with the threads of gold and green running through them could be so cold - but once you had them aimed at you with warmth in them? Well, she certainly had never been the same. Negan snorted derisively and shook his head at her familiar greeting. He was still angry, but that wasn't a surprise.

"I don't know what I fucking expected. You might be the coldest bitch I've ever known, and that is saying a fucking lot!" he told her, catching his tongue between his teeth as if he had more he wanted to say but couldn't quite put into words.

"I was a cop, you forget that? Of course, I'm a cold bitch. You have to be if you want to get shit done," she replied, tossing his philosophy back at him.

"Cold to the fuckers trying to help you?" he asked harshly.

"Do you not see the irony of you standing there asking me that?" she replied quietly, unwilling to rise to his challenge for a fight. "I did what I did to try and save you. It is the only chance I had of keeping you alive. Those people need to hear from Stanley, Olivia, and the others about how you have looked after them. They need to see that you are a human being, too, and not just the monster that killed their friends without provocation, in a brutal display, while making them watch."

"Without… Without provocation? Verity they fucking massacred an entire outpost full of men who'd sworn to help fucking protect the people of Sanctuary. In their fucking SLEEP, most of them, and they kidnapped one of their god-damned babies!" Negan argued.

"After you killed how many others? I know about Hilltop. I know about the kingdom and oceanside. How many other people did you kill to get the attention you wanted? There will always be a price, Negan, and life will come to collect eventually." she shook her head sadly.

"What about you? You've told me about people you've killed that you didn't have to fucking kill, people you regret killing. Hell, you and Etta killing Clyde and Small Paul to sneak the others out - those fucking men were trying to fucking protect the very god-damned mother fuckers who murdered them!" Negan was pacing now, agitated. He knew, somewhere, that he was clutching at straws to justify his behavior.

"They were trying to keep your favor because they were afraid of being on their own again or failing you, either of which could mean death. And if they hadn't been willing to kill Etta, she wouldn't have shot them. She had told me to be prepared for the fact that she was only going to kill if it was in self-defense or defense of the other women. I would've probably done away with more of them than she did. Someone I love taught me that the ends justify the means."

"What ends? What could you possibly have intended to get out of this?"

"Your life! I was trying to keep you alive!" she finally snapped, standing and walking toward the kitchenette. She took a long drink of water to cool her dry throat. Negan stood, leaning back slightly and studying her from under heavily lidded eyes. Finally, he clicked his tongue at her, let out a low whistle of disbelief, and marched back out the door without another word.

Verity leaned down against the cupboard with her head in her hands.

His anger was bad, but his distrust was a smothering weight to bear. She hoped and prayed that in the long run, it was worth it.

Etta gratefully accepted the food Daryl offered her - she was almost gaunt from her time making do on her own. Not as much due to incompetence at surviving as to just not trying hard. She had other things on her mind and had simply forgotten to eat frequently. Now, sitting here in his kitchen with Daryl watching her eat, her appetite was raging.

He had a slight smile playing on his lips as he watched her eat fresh vegetables from the garden raw, biting into ripe tomatoes as you might an apple, taking no time for a fork or knife. Green beans eaten like French fries, and applesauce slurped from the jar.

"Better?" he asked when she paused finally, to breathe. Etta covered her mouth with the back of her hand and released an impressive belch from eating too much too quickly. Daryl shook his head slightly but laughed. She was the rawest, purest woman he had ever known. It made him wonder how he had convinced himself her motives had been to hurt him from the first.

He still hated the thought that she had the sort of history with Negan that she did; but if what she had told him was true, she might well have died before he met her if Negan had not been there to help when those fanatics had attacked. Or in the months afterward when there were only four able-bodied women to care for the children and the injured, needing to secure their home once again.

The bastard had taken the lives of good people, but despite Daryl's desire to believe Negan was pure evil - there was evidence sitting in front of him that the monster had done some good as well.

As much as he wanted to think there was such a thing as good and evil, a simple black-and-white version of it - he knew that was not the way the world worked, and at this moment - a moment he hadn't allowed himself to hope for - he found it difficult to maintain his hatred. He was sitting here with the rarest of people - someone he loved and whom he had been certain was lost to him.

He had a second chance.

"Any way I could stretch your hospitality a bit further?" Etta asked once she had finished every scrap of food he had set out for her. She stood and stretched languidly, "I do need a shower!"

Daryl nodded his agreement.

"Yeah, go ahead," he told her. He wanted to say she could have the shower itself, and the house it was in. He respected the fact that she could take care of herself - but he wanted to give her anything in his power. Fuck it, he finally admitted to himself; he was in love with her.

"You wanna wash my back for me?" she called out after disappearing down the hall, and the rush of excitement that flooded him was all-consuming. He'd never wanted anything more.

[eristic-kaleidoscope]

The Shadow You Cast || Byrne || Trial 4-3 || RE: Erisu, Adrik, END, Jae-min, Erik A, Kenshin

…. Ah? Oh. He was being questioned. WAS he being vague? Byrne blinked, rerunning the alibi he’d given before to figure out if there was anything important he left out. He was pretty sure he wasn’t vague, just…. mostly unaccounted for, yeah.

Hm.

He scratched the back of his neck, thinking about what to say.

“… Alright, so, yeah, like I said and Erik A confirmed, we passed each other at 6:45 when I was heading to Office G, and subsequently the uhhh hidden room. And you already know that I was in the eatery with you before then, I was just… waiting until you left to grab beer since… I figured you’d probably stop me from doing that. Drinking. That was kind of the whole point though, finding a place to drink I figured other people wouldn’t go to and interrupt me, since… People have been… better friends to me than I’ve deserved, you know?”

Yeah. He recognized that people trying to stop him from that was something a good friend would do. It didn’t make it not frustrating in the moment, to be stopped or nagged. Not when you had a mighty urge. But people put up with him and his excuses anyway.

“Once I was in the hidden room, I didn’t see anybody up until I was pulled for body drop by Erik A and Adrik. No one can confirm me after that, so, no, if that’s what you’re asking. Kinda shitty for an alibi, yeah, but it is what it is.”

He let out a small, somber sigh, wringing his uninjured hand around his injured wrist. It hurt a little to do so, perhaps threatening to break the wound open again, but it was keeping him grounded, at least.

Though… Kenshin vaguely defending him came as a surprise. The conviction there was sweet. He wasn’t sure if he deserved that much, though, aha… He reached out and gave Kenshin’s hand a quick squeeze before letting go.

“If there’s any more solid defense I can give for myself, it’s that I’m fucking stupid. Dumb as a doornail. Literally never had a college I applied to accept me since my record, both grades and behavior, is some hot garbage. I couldn’t pull off making that kind of diagram.”

He shrugged. This was a topic he’d discussed with a few people at this point, some of whom were dead. It was what it was, and he was… just an eensy bit frustrated at his motive self for spending all of his tokens he could’ve been using for something else. What was done was done there, too.

Of COURSE, though, Jae-min was opening his goddamn mouth. Byrne flashed an absolutely baffled expression, trying to add up where the hell this was coming from. He glared, eyebrows furrowing.

“Shut the fuck up, Jae-min. I know you can be better than this but it’s like we’ve fucking warped back to day one all over again! My guy, this isn’t personal. You literally phrased it like you were going to the library yourself, of COURSE people were gonna be suspicious? If you’ve got proof to clear yourself then stop being petty and fucking share it? You’re not doing yourself any goddamn favors.”

Sure, he’d already been scolded by Erik A for that, but there was enough of a line being crossed that Byrne wasn’t going to stand there and let his best friend be accosted for no goddamn reason? Even the uncalled commentary to Akito earlier on wasn’t this bad.

Frustrated, Byrne fiddled with his wrist just a LITTLE too hard and ended up breaking the scab, a bit of blood oozing out from the highest corner. Noticing this, he let out a defeated sigh and wrapped it with the bandana normally tied to his jacket. It was whatever! Just whatever.

Haaah… What else could he do at this point?

“We haven’t really narrowed the field as much as we could, I think? Outside of clearing Erik A. So we might wanna work on that. I agree that Adrik and Akito probably aren’t the culprit here but not for the fucking reasons Adrik gave? Not sure what those mean. I was thinking more along the lines that there’s no way in hell Akito coulda gotten to the library before Erika L did based on what you mentioned, and Adrik probably couldn’t do math that complex. The reasons Adrik gave are kinda…. weak and make weird assumptions. Correct me if I’m missing somethin’ though. Also does anyone here use an iPhone? Only Android users have spoken up. And if whoever did the sheets favour wants to speak up, that’d give them the clear.”

Byrne casually slid his phone back into his pocket, thinking for a bit before turning back to glance at Kenshin.

“I guess it’s possible a fight happened there? There was that one unrelated shelf with all the shit knocked off it. But there wasn’t any blood in the library itself, and that started in the middle of the lower hallway. If there was a fight, it probably started in the hall?”

[quillquiver]

dean comes home to britney blaring from somewhere in the bunker. there’s only one person who could be listening to music like that, but the loudness is weird. dean shoves most of the groceries into the fridge and makes his way towards the noise, grimacing the closer he gets. 

cas is working out.

cas is lifting barbell with two huge weights on either side, his face flushed as he grunts through a set of squats. he’s sweating through his flimsy, sleeveless shirt, his thighs straining against his indecently short little shorts as he sinks down. dean practically chokes on his own tongue. 

he totally doesn’t mean to stare, but it’s... the guy is strong. like, sure, as an angel he coulda lifted that thing without blinking an eye, but it’s kind of so much hotter to see him sweating for it and still getting the job done. 

like, really hot.

which is something dean is allowed to think, now that they’re... whatever they are. not dating but like. aware. of each other. in that capacity. whatever. cas lifts the bar over his head and lets the thing fall to the floor with a huge clang and dean basically jumps five feet in the air and then trips over his own feet. 

cas whips around as if ready to fight, relaxing once he sees dean. “oh,” he shouts. “it’s you.”

or at least that’s what dean thinks he says. the princess of pop is singing so loud about a circus that dean can feel it in his chest. “what?” he asks.

cas yells something again and dean still can’t hear shit. “what?!” he asks again.

grabbing the mug of what is probably gross and cold coffee from beside the weights, cas swallows a mouthful and rolls his eyes before walking over. “i said,” he says loudly. “it’s you.”

he’s... really close. close enough to touch, for sure. for dean to reach out and touch his damp shirt and the inside of his arm. close enough to kiss. “yeah,” dean replies, laughing for some reason totally beyond himself. “it’s me. i’m—me.” cas’s head tilts ever-so-slightly to the side and dean feels himself smile nervously. cas leans in a little and dean holds his breath and this is it, isn’t it, this is how their entire song and dance culminates: to britney spears’ baby one more time. it’s ridiculous. it’s mortifying.

fuck it.

dean kisses him. it’s way softer than he means to be; just the barest press of lips and he’s pulling away, buzzing. cas chases because he was never taught not to—never taught to play it cool—and soon dean is pressed against the inside of doorframe and digging his fingers into the insane muscles on cas’s back. fuck. fuck. fuck.

baby one more time has transitioned into gimme more.

dean opens his mouth and their kisses turn wet and sloppy. cas squeezes a big palmful of his ass and dean sinks his free hand into cas’s dark hair. it feels stupid and clumsy, but mostly it’s hot. and fun. dean hasn’t had fun like this in years. they trip over each other and end up sprawled on the ground. Dean makes quick work of shoving at cas’s shorts and cas slides his hand under dean’s shirt. the dude’s so into everything going on it’s hard to get him to focus on the next step. namely: take clothes off.

there’s a different song playing now, but it’s not britney. god, it’s like christina or j lo or—cas’s hand slides into the front of his boxers. dean pretty much only hears static after that.

...it’s only after, when they’re sprawled, panting, on the exercise mats that dean clues into the music. “dude, is this lizzo?”

cas hums. “part of my ‘pop gets shit done’ playlist.”

well alright then.

[t0shii]

% trying to get up while cuddling

.! timeskip! tsukishima, kageyama, sugawara (sep) x gn!r

.! fluff/ cursing in kageyama's, not proofread

.! kags is a heavy sleeper and he used to always sleep with a teddy bear until you started sleeping in the same bed🤫

tsukishima

all tsukishima wanted to do on his day off was be with you, honestly he didn't care what the two of you did as long as he got to be close to you, so when you pitched the idea of a movie day, obviously, he couldn't say no, especially when you gave him the complete control over the movies you'd watch. every. single. one. he couldn't be happier that he didn't have to watch the movies you liked which he pretended to hate. three movies in, he had picked shrek; comparing shrek and fiona's relationship to that of your own.

currently he was the big spoon as the two of you lay on the couch together, one arm underneath you, which was falling asleep but he was too comfortable to move it, angled up to wrap around your waist and the other slung over your body, hand holding yours. honestly he was falling asleep at this point attention nowhere near the movie he'd picked but instead focused on how warm tou were and how nicely you fit into the cuddling position you two were in.

suddenly he's snapped awake and the warmth he was basking in leaves without a trace and you wriggle yourself from his embrace, he's quick to grab your wrist so you don't walk away "where do you think you're going?" he asks, voice groggy. you grin realizing he was probably asleep behind you and you'd woken him up, "sorry sleepy head, i have to pee. let me go." he rolls his eyes and dramatically drops the hand holding your wrist, "hurry it up then."

kageyama

it was terribly cold and dark in kageyama's room as he slept, his body pressed impossibly close against yours. you'd been awake for thirty minutes now needing to pee but his death grip on you made it impossible to get up, and it didn't help that the man slept like a rock, you. couldn't even turn to face him because he had been holding you so tight. at this point you were desperate to wake him up.

"tobio.... tobiooo please wake up. let go" you groan trying your best to wriggle out of his hold, "kageyama let gooo" you kick his leg with the heel of your foot, not too hard to hurt him but enough to wake him up apparently because as soon as you do so you can see the shadow of his head snap up to look around the room, "the hell?" he grumbles, voice hoarse. "tobio, let me go please." you're able to loosen his arms from around your waist and hurry out of the bed and too his bathroom.

"y/n what's wrong, where are you going?" he's hot on your trail, an 'owe owe owe- fucking hell' can be heard behind you right after a loud thud, though you pay no mind as you open the bathroom door and rush to the toilet. when you return you find your boyfriend sitting on the floor rubbing his leg, a slight guilt creeping uo your belly for kicking him. "you coulda just woke me up" he whines standing, "tobio i tried but you're the heaviest sleeper ive ever met." he rolls his eyes, thankful the room was too dark for you to see the red spreading across his cheeks, "whatever lets just go back to bed."

sugawara

you'd been sitting in his lap for a few hours now whilst he graded papers. your head perched on his shoulder, limbs tightly wrapped around his torso, every now and then you'd place a kiss on his neck causing him to give your shoulder a peck in return. it was getting late and he still had so many paper left, the sound of rain tapping on the windows and his humming to whatever song he had playing slowly but surely, coaxing you to sleep.

forcing your eyes open became nearly impossible at the point, not wanting to bother him you try to stand up, suddenly his arms are wrapped around your waist keeping you still, "where you going angel?" it comes out a mumble, breath hot on your neck. "i'm falling asleep koshi; i don't wanna bother you while you're working so i was jus' gonna go to the bed." you rest your head back on his shoulder and shut your eyes.

he sighs, "can you just stay with me? i'm almost done. you don't have to stay awake, if you fall asleep i'll wake you up when i'm done or even carry you if you want. you won't bother me, really." he hugs you tighter and rests his his on your shoulder, "just give me.... 30 minutes, yeah? and we'll go to bed, just don't leave please? i hate keeping you up like this but if you leave i'll never get this done." "why's that?" "because i'll be in bed with you instead."

< reblogs appreciated >

[arrowflier]

It’s been over a month I’m so sorry, I have no concept of time anymore.  But here’s a very belated addition to the Arrow&Calli write saga! @ianandmickeygallavich hope you don’t mind I time jumped a bit.💖

Part 1 (Calli) // Part 2 (Arrow) // Part 3 (Calli) // Part 4 (Arrow) // Part 5 (Calli)

Mickey squirms and lets out a noise that sounds suspiciously like a giggle. “Come here, asshole.” He grabs Ian by the back of the head and pulls him into a kiss.

It’s only been a few days since the email.  A few days since they sat happily at the kitchen table and worked through everything they wanted, since they celebrated the idea of getting it with a day spent wrapped up in each other in a space that might not be theirs for much longer.  And Mickey had been into it, looking forward to making decisions together and making a place for them both to love and be loved in.

He still is.  Of course he is.  He just wishes that it didn’t involve parking the ambulance in front of a downtown real estate office with wide windows and a white-washed brick facade that practically sparkled next to the smog-stained buildings around it.

“You sure this is the place?” he asks Ian as he cuts the engine.

“Your the one that gave me directions,” Ian points out, already unfastening his seatbelt.  He’s opening the door and stepping down before Mickey can answer.

“Yeah,” Mickey says, running a hand up and down his own seatbelt as he stares out the windshield at the cold white wall.  “But I thought we picked a place that didn’t look fuckin’ pretentious.”

Ian doesn’t hear him.  Or at least, pretends not to, absorbed instead in scanning his gaze up and down the street.  Mickey sighs, unlatches the seatbelt, and pushes open his own door.

“You ready?” Ian asks with a smile as he joins him on the pavement, and Mickey sighs again as the brightness of it chases away some of his apprehension.

“Course I am,” he answers, and is rewarded with a quick kiss and a hand in his as he’s pulled toward the door.

A bell jingles to announce their presence, a high chime that draws the attention of not only the man behind the front desk, but a number of strangers sitting on fancy black chairs just inside.  Mickey feels their eyes skating over them, knows they’re taking in the sight of two gay men dressed like they belong anywhere but this swanky downtown setting, and—

And Ian tightens his hold on his hand, and it doesn’t matter anymore.  Nothing matters except that they’re here, together, to decide the next step of their lives.

“Name, sir?” the desk attendant is asking, perfectly professional, when Mickey tunes back in.

“Gallavich,” Ian answers, and Mickey snorts, using their clasped hands to whack Ian in the stomach.  

“Stop trying to make Gallavich happen,” he cuts in as the attendant looks on in confusion.  “It’s Gallagher-Milkovich,” he directs toward the man, “so go ahead and fix that now.”

Ian pouts.  Mickey would kiss it off if they weren’t in the middle of something, but instead he rubs a thumb over the back of Ian’s hand, soft.

“Right,” the man at the desk says, clicking something on the wide computer screen in front of him.  “Ms. Williams is running a bit late with her previous appointment, so if you’ll just have a seat…”

Mickey can feel his eyebrows shoot up.  But Ian is dragging him away before he can argue, pushing him down onto a plush loveseat  a few feet away so they can sit thigh-to-thigh.

“Who overbooks at a damn realtor?” Mickey grumbles, for Ian’s ears only.  “Feel like I’m in a fuckin’ doctor’s office or somethin’, not tryin’ to buy a house.”

He flicks through the pile of magazine on the side table with a grimace.  Better Homes and Gardens, HGTV, DIY.  He bets no one in this place have ever actually done it themselves.

“It’s not a big deal,” Ian soothes him, hand on his knee.  “She’s probably just dealing with some ridiculous clients, you know how people can get.”

“I know we shouldn’t have to be here to begin with,” Mickey retorts.  “Coulda just sent us an addresses, let us check it out ourselves.”

“She’s just making it worth our time by getting to know us first,” Ian counters.  “You know what gas prices are like right now—might as well get some more info before we drive off everywhere, yeah?”

“Fine,” Mickey agrees reluctantly.  “ But I still say—”

“Mr. And Mr. Gallavich?” someone calls from the door at the other side of the room.

Mickey groans.  

“Thought I told him to fix that,” he whines, but Ian just chuckles.  

Ian gets up, and offers a hand that Mickey takes.

“It’s lovely to meet you two in person,” they’re greeted with a smile as they move toward the door.  Bright white teeth against red lipstick, under pink cheeks and warm brown eyes.  

“Come on back to my office,” she invites them with a sweeping hand, “and let’s make what I have is worth your time.”

Mickey ignores the elbow that Ian digs into his side at the echo of his own words, and follows.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

okay but full thoughts on the animaniacs reboot i wanna get out: 

dislikes:

i do think there was a bit too much gross-out. i assume it was there bc animaniacs ended before that really became A Thing™ in kids’ tv and they’re experimenting a little? but i didn’t really feel like it fit but that might just be because it’s not my thing 

i get the russian jokes were written in 2018-19 back when we were all pissed about the election but it did go on for a bit too long? i did like at the end though when they were like “yeah we’re not all like this we just have a shit leader” “we know the feeling comrade” but they probably coulda done more on that 

i’m not a huge fan of the human character designs? idk i know the designs in the original were supposed to be just as odd and wacky as the toons but sometimes the designs are just bad to look at now 

BRING BACK SLAPPY 2K21 

though most importantly: 

i want to see the warners fucking up the studio and the world. there’s a reason they live in a water tower, it’s because the wb studio built it over their faerie circle locked them there to stop them from destroying everything in sight. 

i know they’ve probably mellowed a bit and are still trying to figure out the 21st century but i want to see them bouncing off the walls and making the new ceo bang her head on a desk while they sing the song that gets on everybody’s nerves

because like that’s kinda the thing with the warners... they’re wacky and out of control but mainly because nobody gets them. they just get frustrated and lock them up- and you notice that it’s the humans who don’t seem to get them. 

when they interact with other toons (looney tunes cameos, the other segments) they seem to have stable friendships and all seem to get™ each other, like when the warners unleashed mindy on elmyra and then gave buttons the day off or when they go to slappy to get rid of their new nanny. 

i could go on for a while about the implications of this plus the implications of them living in the warner bros studio while being locked in a water tower but i’ll just sum it up with “it really hits with the neurodivergent kids” and anyone who’s in that category. you get it

and i don’t feel that was brought out enough yet? but it’s only season one, they’re still getting back into the swing of things, so we’ll see how it goes

however, the overwhelming positives:

THE SIBLING LOVE THEY ALL HAVE FOR EACH OTHER??? THAT’S SO PURE AND GOOD GIVE IT ALL TO ME 

these writers are NOT backing down from the political jokes and adult humor. i’m sure you all saw my out-of-context compilation but wakko literally said “hell” and yakko called someone a dick, and also they mock drumpf like every other episode. fucking fantastic 

you can tell the writers know how we all see pinky and the brain. they’re slowburn building to that labrat romance 

my GOD is wakko so fucking cute. the real reason dot’s new schtick is being “witty” and not “cute” is because they realized that wakko’s the real babey of the family 

the lowkey sad elements are starting to slip into the show- the brain backstory is the most clear, due to it being framed in such a sad light, but also yakko literally having a breakdown when he feels like he can’t be the “funny one” and can’t speak also a neurodivergent mood really does HIT doesn’t it 

the new ceo seems funny! i like her fast-paced movements and way of speaking. hope we learn more about her or she gets, like. a name? does she have a name yet? 

MY GOD THAT REVEAL ABOUT WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER SEGMENTS 

the new animation and songs are so good oh my god i literally taught myself how to play “reboot it” on guitar because i couldn’t get it out of my head 

every time dot is just feral and out for blood i’m like “yeah. yeah she’s the youngest sibling you can tell” 

i would still die for these siblings istg 

THE PENNYWISE SKETCH WAS THE FUNNIEST THING IN THE WORLD

tl;dr it’s not perfect but by GOD is it close. really looking forward more to season three than two- cause one and two were made in quick succession, so three will be made knowing how the fans reacted and what they want 

but by god would i still die for these puppy rabbit salamander fae children i--