#faceplants onto the carpet

[rose-tinted-kalopsia]

tbh you guys should know that i use the lines "i love you." "and i love you." a lot in my fics (and also recently in you look wonderful tonight), and you have to understand that it's founded on this thing i have with my closest friends where sometimes saying "i love you" with the modifier "too" makes it feel less intimate of a reply because it may feel like an afterthought? so we say "and i love you" instead, because it punctuates on the "i love you" part and makes it feel more intentional and more genuine—it's not just "too" which sometimes gives the vibes "yeah, you said it first so ofc, i love you too", it's and. a coordinating conjunction. something you use to connect ideas. you love me? yes, and, i love you.

...SO BASICALLY WHAT I'M SAYING IS THAT ZAYNE WOULD DO THIS. OKAY. HE WOULD. HE WOULD BECAUSE HE MIGHT NOT BE GOOD WITH WORDS BUT HE'S GOING TO FIND THE SMALLEST SUBTLEST WAYS TO CONVEY HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO HIM OK HE WOULD. HE WOULD AND HIS BIRTHDAY EVENT IS PROOF. I KNOW. THE DEVS TOLD ME.

[pucksandpower]

Meet Me at the Met

Lewis Hamilton x up-and-coming singer!Reader

Summary: in which you go head over heels (quite literally) during the most important event of the year and end up right at the feet of none other than Sir Lewis Hamilton himself

Warnings: minor injury

The roar of the crowd hits you like a tidal wave as you step onto the iconic themed carpet of the Met Gala. Flashing bulbs from countless cameras nearly blind you as you blink rapidly, trying to adjust. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it thrumming in your throat.

“Over here, honey!” A photographer calls out, gesturing for you to turn towards him. You pivot gracefully, the layers of shimmering tulle from your Maison Margiela gown swirling around you.

“Work it! Look this way, sweetheart!” Another shouts, snapping shot after shot.

You take a steadying breath, channeling every ounce of confidence you can muster. This is your first Met Gala, the biggest night of your fledgling music career so far. One misstep could be disastrous.

Your publicist Samantha appears at your side, perfectly put together as always in a sleek sheath dress. “You’re doing great,” she murmurs with an encouraging smile. “Just keep smiling and be yourself.”

Nodding, you continue gliding down the iconic path, pausing at the designated spots to pose for the ravenous paparazzi. An elegant string of Bulgari emeralds adorns your neck, glittering mesmerizingly under the bright lights.

“Miss! To your left please!”

You turn obediently, the intricate beadwork on your deep blue-green gown catching the flashes. Despite the oppressive late spring humidity, you refuse to let a single drop of sweat show. This night is too important.

After what feels like an eternity, a security guard appears to usher you up the final flight of stairs and into the main event. With a brilliant smile plastered on your face, you make your way carefully up the steps, lifting the delicate train of your dress to keep from tripping.

Suddenly, one sparkly heel catches on the fabric and you’re thrown off balance. Unable to catch yourself, you tumble head over heels back down the stairs, gasping in shock and pain as you land hard on the ground.

There’s a collective intake of breath from the crowd as you blink up at the bright lights, thoroughly stunned. Your vision is blurred and there’s a sharp throbbing in your head. When you try to push yourself up, bolts of agony shoot through your right wrist.

“Oh my god, are you alright?” A deep, accented voice sounds from beside you.

You turn your head and your breath catches in your throat. Crouched beside you in an exquisitely tailored double breasted suit and wool coat is arguably the most handsome man on the planet. His beautiful coffee-colored eyes are filled with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a loose strand of hair from your face.

“I … I think so,” you manage to stammer out, though your pounding head begs to differ. “Just clumsy, I guess.”

Despite the sheepish grin you attempt, a wince of pain crosses your features as you shift positions. Lewis’ brow furrows and he places one large hand on your bare shoulder to keep you still.

“Easy there, love. Don’t try to move just yet,” he soothes in that rich baritone that has melted millions of hearts. “You took quite a nasty fall.”

You nod mutely, unable to tear your widened eyes away from his handsome face. This couldn’t be happening … could it? Did you really just faceplant in front of the entire world and, perhaps more importantly, your celebrity crush?

“S-Sorry,” you whisper, utterly mortified. “I’m usually much more graceful than this, I swear.”

Lewis chuckles warmly and you feel your cheeks flush. “No need to apologize, darling. These things happen to the best of us.”

Nearby, Samantha is frantically trying to wave over security and a medic, her expression pinched with worry. You groan quietly as another stab of pain lances through your skull. Definitely a concussion, if your swimming vision is any indication.

“Let’s get you looked at, yeah?” Lewis murmurs, rising fluidly to his feet.

Before you can protest, he slips one arm behind your back and the other under your knees, cradling you gently against his firm chest. You suck in a shocked breath at the sudden movement, instinctively reaching up to grab onto his shoulders for stability. His Burberry suit is buttery soft under your fingers.

“Whoa … y-you really don’t have to carry me,” you stammer out as he easily lifts your frame.

Those rich brown eyes meet yours with an amused glint. “I insist. Can’t have one of the brightest new voices in music getting any more hurt, can we?”

You bite your lip shyly, unable to hold back a small smile of wonderment. Is this really happening right now?

“I’ll be fine, honestly,” you try again as Lewis maneuvers around the gathered crowd, heading for a discreet exit with Samantha close behind. “Just a little banged up.”

“Your wrist is already swelling, love,” he points out with a frown. “Best to get it checked properly, yes?”

“I … yeah, okay,” you acquiesce quietly, not having the energy or brainpower to argue with him further.

The two of you disappear through a door and down a mercifully empty hallway, leaving the stunned crowd and flashing cameras behind. Samantha is rapidly conversing with security to locate the nearest medic station.

“Thank you,” you murmur, letting your head rest wearily against Lewis’ shoulder. Up close, he smells incredible — like crisp bergamot and just a hint of expensive cologne. “For helping me, I mean. I’m sure you had better things to do tonight than playing knight in shining armor.”

Lewis smiles down at you, eyes crinkling in a way that makes your heart flutter unexpectedly. “What a coincidence, I just so happen to be a knight.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly feeling shy under his warm gaze. “Lucky for me then, I suppose.”

“Indeed,” he agrees with a wink. “Though I can’t take all the credit. That dress is clearly too stunning for us mere mortals to handle.”

A watery giggle slips past your lips before you can stop it. Even slightly concussed and in quite a bit of pain, you can’t deny that foreign flutters are dancing in your stomach just from being in Lewis’ presence. He’s even more charming in person than you ever could have dreamed.

“You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton,” you tease lightly. “But I’ll be sure to leave the couture gowns at home next time.”

Lewis opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by Samantha hurrying over with a young medic in tow, his kit already open. The worried expression on her face deepens when she sees your obviously injured wrist cradled against your chest.

“Thank god you have her,” she exhales in relief, nodding towards Lewis. “What do we know so far?”

“Took a pretty hard fall down those stairs,” Lewis explains calmly as the medic kneels down to begin his assessment. “She was unconscious for a moment and seems to have injured her wrist as well.”

You wince as the medic gently prods along your forearm. “Definitely a sprain at the very least,” he confirms. “And with the way her pupils are reacting ...”

He shines a small light into both your eyes, brow furrowed in concentration. “I’d say mild concussion too. We should get her to the infirmary for further evaluation, just in case.”

Hearing his words, a small wave of panic crashes over you. Missing any part of tonight because of this would be devastating. You force yourself to sit up straighter, ignoring the way the room spins sickeningly.

“No, no I’ll be fi-”

“You’re not going anywhere but to get checked out properly,” Lewis cuts you off firmly, placing a staying hand on your shoulder. His expression brooks no argument. “Head injuries are nothing to mess around with, love.”

You open your mouth to protest again, but Samantha quickly interjects. “He’s absolutely right. We’re not taking any chances with your health.”

As much as you hate to admit it, they do have a point. If your condition really is as serious as the medic suggests, it could be dangerous to simply brush it off. You let out a resigned sigh, wilting back against Lewis’ sturdy chest.

“I suppose you’re ri-”

Before you can finish your sentence, a sudden dizzy spell washes over you. Bile rises in your throat as the room tilts crazily. Your voice trails off into an anguished groan as you squeeze your eyes shut, fighting off waves of nausea.

“Alright, that’s it. We’re getting you looked at immediately,” Lewis declares. He shifts you effortlessly in his arms and strides down the hallway, the medic and Samantha hurrying to keep up.

The rest of the journey to the infirmary is a blur. You’re vaguely aware of being transferred to a gurney and giving the doctor on staff your information. Lewis’ worried face keeps appearing in your line of vision, his voice a soothing balm against the incessant pounding in your skull.

Finally, the doctor confirms that while your concussion isn’t serious, you definitely need to be monitored overnight. A brace is fitted around your sprained wrist and you’re given strict instructions on managing the symptoms over the next few days. Throughout it all, Lewis remains stubbornly by your side, declining offer after offer to return to the main event.

Thoroughly drugged and exhausted by this point, you can barely keep your eyes open as a wheelchair is brought over to transport you out to the car waiting area. Lewis helps you into it carefully, crouching down in front of you with a tender expression.

“I’m so sorry,” you mumble miserably, gesturing vaguely to your bandaged wrist and slightly dazed state. “I’ve completely ruined your whole night … your entrance, your photo ops … everything.”

He lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head adamantly. “Don’t be ridiculous, love. I’d take meeting someone as wonderful as you over all of that any day.”

You blink up at him in surprise, an embarrassed blush staining your cheeks. Did he really just say that? Lewis Hamilton, world famous athlete and heartthrob, thinks you’re wonderful?

“Still,” you protest weakly. “This is supposed to be your night to shine. And now you’re stuck playing nurse for a clumsy fool.”

Lewis arches an eyebrow sternly. “I think you’ve bumped your head around a bit too much, darling. That’s no way to speak about yourself.”

He reaches out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear, his calloused fingertips grazing your flushed cheek with unexpected tenderness. Your breath catches in your throat at the gentle gesture.

“Missing out on some silly party is more than worth it to me if I got to meet someone as lovely as you,” Lewis continues honestly. His eyes are filled with sincerity. “The only thing I’m upset about is that you were the one who got hurt.”

You’re rendered speechless for a long moment, completely disarmed by his words. Never in a million years could you have imagined this kind of scenario playing out tonight. Is this all really happening?

Finally, you manage a weak smile, blushing furiously under his warm regard. “You’re too kind, Sir Hamilton.”

“Please, call me Lewis,” he insists with a wink. “And let me know where you’re staying, yeah? I’ll come by tomorrow to check on how you’re doing myself.”

Your eyes widen in surprise and you quickly scramble to recall the name of your hotel. “U-Um, the Lotte New York Palace,” you stammer out shyly. “But you really don’t have to do that ...”

Lewis waves off your protest easily, rising to his feet with a soothing grin. “Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. I’ll be by with some breakfast to make sure my favorite new artist is being properly taken care of.”

With a final wink and dazzling smile, he steps aside to allow an assistant to wheel you towards the exit. Your head is still swimming, though you can’t blame it entirely on the concussion this time.

Did Lewis Hamilton, actual living legend, really just say he was coming to check on you tomorrow?

You allow yourself a tiny, bewildered smile as the night breeze washes over your heated cheeks. Somehow, despite all the mishaps, this crazy night had turned into something straight out of the kind of romantic comedy you secretly loved.

Perhaps falling on your face in front of the entire world wasn’t so disastrous after all.

[bamsara]

"I just wanted to say. Thank you for protecting me"

Eclipse-Centric | Wordcount: 805 | AO3 Version

(Maybe some major spoilers for Solar Lunacy, TW for some robot gore, human injury)

The damage to their body was... extensive. Not life-threatening. But extensive.

You don't know how you're going to fix this right now, but Gramps has a toolbox in the shed, and there's duct tape underneath your kitchen sink, and Eclipse is very, very patient as he sits numbly on your coach, of few words and more looks, as you pluck out charred wires and plastic out of the hole in his arm to the robot that's probably held together less out of reasonable sense and more out of will and magic that you don't understand.

The arm that was torn off has sharp edges in the metal that cut at your fingertips when you try and brush it off, and you don't know if the animatronic feel pain if you were to try and sand it. So, in a comical fashion, you've put an oven mitt over the end of it, taping it to hold its place.

The other arms are laying limp, two on the couch, resting with its palm up in your lap. There's fried wiring around the elbow, dents in the forearm where Monty grabbed him, and openings that you can't tell look like they're from wolf claws or the steel of a knife.

The sight of them makes the wound under your own bandages ache for a moment, but you swallow back the wet soreness in your throat and continue working. The hospital gave you decent pain meds. You needed to stay on task while they were effective.

"Lift, please." You talk quietly, fearing that your voice may crack.

Eclipse doesn't respond, eyes locked onto the television. The news is playing, covering the fire. The sound is low so not to bother you. Still, the animatronic shifts his limbs for you, head turned towards the screen.

There's melted plastic stuck to his forearm, and you're peeling it off with chipped fingernails and whatever willpower you have left, flicking off the pieces onto the carpet to vacuum up later when you have the energy. Leaning back, you gather the duct tape from the coffee table, pulling out a strip to cover the hole in his shoulder.

It's...not what he needs. But it's all you have. All you can do is pick up the pieces and cover up the damage so it doesn't get any worse.

"I'm gonna put this over the opening, okay?" Two long strips are wide enough to cover this 'wound', and it seals the inside of the wiring away. "So nothing gets in your chassis. Or falls out."

Eclipse doesn't make a movement to acknowledge what you said, staring limply with the default smile toward the news broadcaster detailing the company's statement, and it's an estimate of the cost of damages.

Their ability to emote is not currently active, just like their voicebox. Not until they are both fixed. You wish they were active. You wish you could get something, a facial expression, a joke, a sentence, anything. You're taping your friend's fingers together like broken bones only theirs were stuck as claws.

A warmth travels down your face, past your mouth and you don't feel the wetness until it hits your neck. Lips pressed together into a thin line, you rub the tear away. You'll do that on your own time. Not now.

When you blink, you see a shift in the corner of your eye. Eclipse is staring at you now.

Your tongue feels swollen in your mouth. "I, uh-" You busy yourself with his hand, grey-tainted with burned-off paint and scorched sharp points. "I wanted to say thank you for protecting me. You know-" You keep your head low. "Back then."

He looks at you with black eyes and still pupils. The crack in his faceplate feels like guilt and sorrow in your ribcage.

You missed them saying things. You'd be happy for a stupid nickname, even.

The fingers you were treating suddenly tense in your grip, and by instinct, you let them go, until they turn and they fold around your own hand. Long, damaged fingers curl into your own, grasping your hand and holding it along with your wrist.

You freeze as Eclipse leans down, and his faceplate presses against your forehead. Not barely, but heavily, firmly, resting in your hair.

He lingers there as the news broadcast flashes familiar images on the screen, casting different colors on both of you.

You only raise a hand to press your fingertips to the bottom of his faceplate pushing him back as you mummer you needed to remove his ruffled collar so you can clean the soot you've spotted hidden underneath it.

He lets you, but the hand not using the rag stays in his hold, and his other comes up to palm away a warmth that falls from your face and onto your neck again.

[sweetbabyrayn]

he's all done! my sweet boy has been given eyes and fluffed up, so he's a nice squishy and huggable friend. Konpeito (he/they) was my first full sized furby, and at the time, I was hesitant to customize any of the older gens. He was my first custom as well, I did his original design back in January/February, but decided now that I had gained some skills that I wanted to fix him up some more. I had also seen a thread on reddit where someone popped the leds out and since Konpeito wasn't working I figured it would be a safe way for me to practice taking apart and putting back together booms/12s. I'll put more info and photos of my process AND the before and after below the cut!

Konpeito's original skin and pattern! I bought him from an eBay listing for 8$. He had some pretty bad corrosion in his terminals, and despite getting it out, I was never able to get them to turn on. I suspect that he may have also had a faulty motor.

Konpeito's first faceplate design, I picked the colors from the fur from the tummy, but I wasn't the best at color matching. I'm still not tbf, but I did better the second time. I also wasn't ever too happy with their eyes, I found it difficult to paint well on the rounded surface.

Photos from when I was down on the floor cutting out the fabric for his new skin! I was silly and accidentally cut the fur going in the wrong direction but i was able to train it to go the other way.

His finished first custom! I did a big no-no on the first custom by sealing everything with nail polish. (It will yellow, crack, and break over time) Which meant taking non acetone nail polish remover when i stripped him of his old paint.

Priming the new paint job using gesso after sanding and removing all the old paint (this took me around four hours).

painting the intricate carpet design onto the face plate. This also took me hours. This was also before I had decided to go the alternate route of popping out the eyes in place for chips.

Next, it was time to mess with the internals and pop out their LEDS for some resin chips that I had ordered to go on top of a design I painted. This was MUCH easier than painting a rounded surface for me. Here is a link to the reddit thread where someone explained how to access and get out the leds. I suggest taking pictures of where every screw goes bc I did NOT take enough and ended up having extra screws at the end.

https://www.reddit.com/r/peeledfurby/s/IHA1GqKgGW

Then all that was left was sewing the new skin, finishing the ears and eyes, and putting him all back together!

[padawansuggest]

Cody: *comes into Obi-Wan’s apartment after Rex mentioned he thinks Obi and Ani pulled an all nighter*

Obi-Wan: *lying face down on the carpet in plank formation, dead asleep*

Anakin: *texting on the couch while trying to keep his eyes open*

Ahsoka: *having made a comfortable next in the meditation area that genuinely looks comfortable, probably fell asleep at a human-normal but not togruta-normal time*

Initiate Grogu: *stealing more cookies*

Padawan Reva: *helping Grogu steal more cookies, the sugar will be their lifeblood*

Cody: …is he okay?

Reva: *looks at Obi-Wan* Yeah? Master likes to sleep like that.

Anakin: *looks at Obi-Wan, concentrates for a second to float a pillow to him to drop next to him*

Obi-Wan: *instantly snatches the pillow to curl on top of it and stretch out like a lazy cat*

Grogu: *comes over, looks between Reva and Obi-Wan for a few moments, faceplants on the floor next to Obi-Wan to fall asleep under his chest and the pillow*

Cody: …is /he/ okay?

Anakin: Yeah, Grogu likes being smothered. Long as he’s got breathing space he’s fine.

Cody: So. Debatable?

Anakin: Probably. *puts down his phone and finally decides to pass out too*

Reva: *comes over and latches onto Cody’s hand with a soft whine* Is it bedtime now?

Cody: It’s noon, but it’s your bedtime, yeah. Come on, kiddo. *leads her off to tuck her into bed*

[sociallyrepressed]

season of the witch

Salem always glows this time of year. As soon as the first leaf departs from its tree, the residents line their lawns with plastic figures and blown-up monstrosities. The neighborhood children gather to bake Halloween cookies and carve pumpkins. Stores open for the flow of tourists hunting ghost stories- which is very lucky for Franco considering half of his business is guiding ghost tours during the busy season. The other half of his job is selling antiques while coming up with creative stories about how the previous owners still haunt them.

They’re not actually haunted- he checks them personally after he got in trouble with Lando for gifting him a potted plant that attempted to eat one of his students. Which is really Lando’s fault for not checking, because why did he put the plant in his classroom without even testing it for magical conformities? Anyways, it led to a traumatic series of events in which Lando had to wipe the child’s memory and tell her parents she got a concussion for misusing the monkey bars, and now Franco checks for traces of spell or curse residue before he sells them.

His thoughts are interrupted by the man himself.

“Are you going to help me put the lights up or not?” Lando’s leaning against the doorframe, hip cocked and eyebrow raised.

“If you tone down the sass I will think about it.” He ducks as his favorite mug is lobbed at his head- bright pink with black letters that read “witch, please”. It came in a matching set; Lando’s is dark gray with bright green letters that spell out “witch bitch” . Franco flicks his fingers to stop its momentum, protecting it from shattering on the floor. “Why do you not use magic to put them up? Clearly it is not above you.”

“Because we have to keep appearances for the neighbors. And also I thought it might be fun.” Lando pushes off the wall and disappears into the back hallway, returning with a bundle of lights and their cat darting around his heels, trying to get at the trailing ends. They are most definitely tangled, Franco sighs.

“You could not get them untangled.” 

“Nope. And also made it worse,” he looks entirely unapologetic as he dumps the lights onto the carpet in front of Franco, plopping onto his knees. He pulls Lucky Bastard (affectionately dubbed by Lando when they rescued him as a sopping pathetic little thing during a storm) into his lap, away from the lights, and pats the space next to him in invitation. And who is Franco to deny his- admittedly incompetent- witch. When Lando doesn't reach out and start tugging at the loose ends, Franco realizes his intended role. “But maybe you could work your magic.” Lando’s got this wide cheesy grin on his face, gap tooth on display. It’s the one Franco likes most because of how unguarded it is; it’s the one Lando weaponizes the most because he knows this.

“Ay, Lando, you are evil.” He still closes his eyes and reaches into his own soul, imagining a bright tangle of lights. He imagines it coming apart, pulling into organized pieces. The magic crackles in the air, and he knows in the silence Lando is watching, enraptured. 

He has his own talents and spells, but he always seems so captivated when Franco uses his magic- he’s been accused on more than one occasion of using some kind of enchantment, until Lando realized the reason for his interest was due moreso to his own feelings than any magical influence. 

It takes a few minutes to completely disentangle, if only for the reason Lando did, in fact, make the knot worse. By the time he opens his eyes, there are long strips in front of him and Lando is leaned forward on his knees, braced on his hands. His eyes are bright and excited, mouth curved into something happy. Lucky Bastard is already attempting to ruin the lights. Franco allows himself to tip forward just enough to press a light, fluttery kiss to the corner of Lando’s lips. He doesn't linger, instead pulling back and laughing as Lando tries to chase his lips and ends up faceplanting right into the lights. He’s scowling when he pushes himself back up, but Franco doesn't feel intimidated when there are imprints of bulbs across the side of his cheeks and temple.

“I thought you wanted to go put them up.” He stands and grabs one of the strings, making his way towards the front door.

“I hate you!” He hears it echo in the foyer, but he can also hear the hasty rustling of Lando getting up and grabbing a different strand. 

“Ah, if only that were true.”

--

“You are not funny, amor. It was not so funny the last four years, and it is not funny this year.” Honestly, Franco doesn't know how he puts up with so much. Lando thinks it's hysterical that he dresses up as a witch for the school’s celebration of All Hallow’s Eve. Witches are common costumes, but he’s still going to get in trouble with the local coven for some kind of appropriation. Last year, it was because “witches don't have ugly warts on their noses or cackle loudly”. (In Franco’s opinion, that describes the pompous witches in the coven perfectly.) Luckily, this year he’s toned it down to a dramatic black velvet robe, a scraggly wooden broom, and an offensively pointed hat that looks like it could genuinely hurt somebody. He’s put on a light layer of makeup to accentuate the shape of his eyes and make him more glow-y, which shouldn’t be doing it for Franco as much as it is.

“All the kids love it, plus I think it’s better than being a vampire.” He cocks his head to the side. “But that's probably because you’re pale enough to look like one already.” Lando reaches around and smacks Franco on the backside, and he can feel some heat rise to his face. “Oh, there’s your lively color!” 

“Do not start something we do not have time to finish,” Franco pushes Lando out of his face by convincing the car keys to collide with his cheek.

“Hey!” Franco is already turned out the front door and in the car before Lando can retaliate. “Cheater.” When he catches up he slinks into the passenger and drops the keys into the cupholder.

“Oh, baby, do not be such a sore loser. One day you will be fast enough to keep up,” he leans across the center console and kisses him. Contrary to what he said before, he’s the one to initiate their make-out session in the car. He has not always been so great with self-control, and Lando is looking at him with winged eyes and glossy lips pulled into a pout. He never actually stood a chance. They don't separate until Franco commits a transgression of the highest degree- he runs his hand through Lando’s hair and tugs a curl until it loosens. He squawks and jerks back, pulling down the passenger side visor just enough to see the top of his head so that he can fix his hair even though it's just going to get covered up by the witch’s hat anyway.

 Franco laughs and he keeps rustling different curls the whole drive (“Stop it! Focus on driving.” “Ah, my love, my eyes are on the road, I am not even thinking of you. I promise I am not doing anything.”). As they’re pulling into the parking lot, Lando is finally once again at peace with his hair. It’s a shame Franco’s one goal in life is to continually cause chaos.

He turns and reaches out again to grab Lando’s face, pulling it in. His pretty eyes are narrowed in suspicion as he leans his own face closer. Franco can feel him shiver when his breath ghosts over his ear, “your lipgloss is smudged, my love.” Lando shoves him away again and smacks his shoulder.

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

“You have said this already multiple times, yet I do not believe you anymore now than I did earlier.” Lando pauses his movement just long enough to send him a stink eye. He opens his mouth to say something but Franco cuts him off, “oh, look. The party has started, and we are now late.” The lights in the gymnasium are flashing greens and pinks, some type of loud music permeating the otherwise quiet night.

His witch snorts but gets out of the car, straightening his costume. When Franco moves to get out, his door locks. Everytime he unlocks it, it relocks.

“Lando.” He sends some leaves to flutter around Lando’s head. Suitably distracted trying to protect his hair from further assault, Franco gets out of the car. When they actually get inside of the gym, a group of middle schoolers all flock to Lando, chattering excitedly. He’s content to stand to the side and observe, but one of the kids sees him and points.

“Mr. L, is that your boyfriend?” Lando sputters for a few moments, both to the amusement of the kids and Franco. But when he looks at Franco with wide eyes, he decides to step in and introduce himself.

“Yes, I’m Franco. His boyfriend.” Witches don't usually do the whole dating and marriage thing. When they’re born, their souls are split into fragments, and one of the fragments is used as a courting gift that binds with a soul fragment of another witch. It’s far more intimate than the courting rituals of regular mortals. He does not explain this to the kids. One girl that looks vaguely familiar stares him down, a frown on her lips.

“He may be your boyfriend, but he’s our teacher. So we get to have him tonight since we’re at school, plus we want to win the pizza party.” Franco raises his eyebrows, but Lando’s got this glint in his eyes that can only spell mischief.

“Audrey, Franco is really good at games. He can help us win.” He’s not really listening to Lando because it clicks into place- this is the girl the plant tried to eat. Now he’s obligated to help them win the pizza party since he’s the reason she almost died, even if she doesn't remember.

“Yes. I will help you all win.” The kids cheer and storm through until they get to the side of the gym housing all the carnival games. Franco and Lando trail behind. “You are an evil, evil man.”

“I don't know what you're talking about. Come on, we have to win. I’ll be damned if I ever hear George talking about how superior his class is just because they got a pizza party again.” Franco rolls his eyes, but links their fingers together and they wander over to play games.

Later, they’re back in their house, in their bed, curled around each other. Lucky Bastard is on top of Lando’s chest, purring loudly. Lando presses feather soft kisses to the side of Franco’s face, and he can feel their soul fragment glow warm and soft.

[pygmi-cygni]

i saw you say that you never get requests for blue and i’m here to change that bc i’m obsessed with that freak and how you write him. how do you think he would be with an s/o (or Favorite Girl god knows he’s probably a weirdo about relationships) who’s taller than him

LMAO lovey i'm pretty sure you have sent me this exact request before but i will do a part two for you (ily, i'll link the first one) pt 1 i think that one was specifically fem, so i'll make the new one more gn ❤️

I've said it once I'll say it again, Blue is a Huge Submissive Baby and I think he gets that from a) mommy issues and b) being a short king.

he would have no issue with a tall partner, but I think he would take a bit of an adjustment to being physically inferior. Like, he'd definitely be a huge brat until you ironed the wrinkles out and them he'd be like putty.

Blue is really insecure, so being able to feel protected by his partner would be a big thing. Commitment is not in his wheelhouse but he has that "scrappy alley cat" energy where he wouldn't let go of you unless you physically restrained him.

would measure the perfect set of heels/boots for his partner so that he could faceplant in their tits whenever he wanted. if they're already too tall, he'd put lifts in his shoes so he could reach.

did one show with his partner and then had to stop because he got so hard he couldn't remember the dance moves.

acts out on purpose so his partner will listen to him and then fuck his brains out.

"The carpet had worn thin from his pacing. Blue kicked at the edge of his desk, almost chipping off the lacquer. He flexed his hands and whirled around, eyes squeezed shut with anger.

You watched from the chaise, martini sitting idly in your palm.

"Blue," you called gently, "come have a sit, darling."

He huffed angrily and flung down his waistcoat, collapsing over your lap in a heap. You let out a small oof and smiled, a glimmer in your eye. Blue twisted so he lay face-up, blinking at you expectantly.

"Need something?" you dragged a finger down his cheek, tugging his lips into a bashful smile.

"Mm, yes p-please," he squirmed as you tickled under his chin. Slowly, you set down your drink and coaxed him to lean upright against you. Blue groaned low in his throat while your fingers slowly unbuttoned his pants, pupils dilated with need.

"Behave," you murmured, noticing his fidgeting. He bit gently into your shoulder, trying to restrain his sounds.

His hand flew down to join yours and-

"Blue," you hissed, batting his palm away. He moaned in frustration, writhing under your stern gaze. You held his attention for a moment, then wrapped his chin in your hand. His pulse fluttered, enraptured in the way your hand cradled him. He felt...small, in a good way. Protected.

"S-sorry," he muttered, blinking owlishly. You leaned closer, grip squeezing, until your lips were inches apart.

Slowly your hand returned to his throbbing length. A full body tremor rattled through him as your wonderfully cold fingers stroked lightly along his hardness. He keened, fisting onto your robe.

Grinning, you sucked a mark into his neck, tightening your wrist as he wailed."

kinky bastard and loves being tied up while being degraded.

if he even gets an inkling that somebody pissed off his partner even a little bit, he's at your side and demanding they get killed. immediately he's kissing and apologizing, begging to get you off so you'll forget.

needs at least one (1) kiss every ten minutes or he screams a tantrum. Will purposefully slouch so you lean down to kiss him on he forehead.

will sit in your lap during a meeting and jf anyone says anything about it, you'll shoot them. and then he'll need a blow job because that was the hottest thing he's ever seen.

even tho his partner is taller, I think he'd be the big spoon. just to have someone to hold and squeeze while he sleeps. hates it when his partner wears shirts to bed because it's harder for him to fondle them.

xox looove you

tags, comment to join:

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love 

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@unear7hly @purple-amaranthe

[howlingday]

Jaune's Shampoo

Nevermore

"DAMMIT, NORA!" Jaune opened his shower door. As he exited, he noticed his body had drastically changed. Using a mixture of his shampoo and experimental goo found at the fiendish Dr. Merlot's laboratory, Nora had unwittingly created a mutagen just to prank her team leader.

As Jaune stepped from the shower, he suddenly lost his balance and fell forward. However, instead of faceplanting hard into the tiled floor, it was more like his face kinda... stuck to it. He felt a huge pressure on his face from his nose to his forehead. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he was sort of... hovering. Off the ground.

He tried to push himself off the floor, only for his arms to sort of slide out, like he had no hands. Glancing to his side, he saw that he, in fact, did not have any hands. Instead of where his hand, arm, and skin were normally supposed to be, it was replaced by a huge, black wing, as dark and terrible as a night without the moon or the stars.

"HELP!" Jaune cried, only for his voice to uselessly echo back to him. He called again from his position on the bathroom floor, only to once again be met with his own voice, and nothing more.

"Jaune?" Oh, nevermind. Somebody did hear him. "You okay in there?"

"Uh... Not really." Jaune replied with discomfort in his voice.

"Well, are you decent?

"Uh... I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I, uh... I'm kinda stuck after I fell out of the shower."

"Uh oh! Should I get the nurse?"

"Maybe? I don't know, I'm kinda scared. Could you get someone from Team RWBY?"

"I am Ruby!"

"Oh. Well, um, if you could use your leadership powers to unlock the door first, that'd be great."

"My what?"

"Your leadership access. In case of an emergency, you can use your scroll to unlock student dorms."

"...You mean I could have been breaking into the bathroom while Weiss was showering this whole time? Because seriously, she takes all day and-"

"RUBY!"

"On it!" Ruby tapped around on her scroll until she found the leadership feature and tapped the unlock application. "Hey, Jaune, did you know it can also unlock garbage cAAAAAH!"

Jaune sighed. "Hi, Ruby."

"Jaune, what the heck happened to you?!"

"I'm stuck!"

"Yeah, I can see that, but how did you get turned into a bird?! You look like a person-sized Nevermore!"

"Do I?" Jaune asked. "I couldn't really tell because I'M STUCK ON THE GROUND! NOW HELP ME UP!"

"Okay, okay!" Ruby stepped in and looked around.

"Ruby? Ruby, what are you doing?"

"I'm looking for a towel." She answered. "I don't wanna, y'know, in case you're contagious."

"Ruby, I am stuck to the floor with my butt hanging in the air."

"Well, yeah, but what if you have bird germs?"

"RUBY!"

"Okay, fine!" Luckily, in the middle of their bickering, Ruby found a towel to put over Jaune's butt. "Ready? One... Two... Three!"

Ruby pulled as hard as she could, grunting as Jaune slowly lifted from the ground to a more hunched position, an improvement from his more... provocative appearance before. With a scraping sound, Jaune fell backwards onto Ruby, earning a squeak from her, followed by a groan.

"Thanks, Ruby." Jaune said, trying to stand, only to slip forward again. Thankfully, he landed chin-first, instead of beak-first. Rolling over he got a better look at himself. Save for his bare chest, Jaune's entire body did in fact look like a Nevermore. He flexed his talon toes, aweing at the strange sensation of downgrading from ten piggies to eight, with three in the front and one in the back on each foot. Flexing his arms, his wings gave a little flap. Looking between his legs, he saw Ruby rubbing her head. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." She groaned, then standing up. "Wanna try standing again?"

"Uh, yeah, but, uh..." Jaune looked to the door leading to the shared dorm. "Could you help me walk to my bed?"

"Sure thing, Jaune."

Pulling him to his feet, Ruby slipped an arm under his wing and supported him in his slow, little bird footsteps to the dry and soft carpet floor. As she helped him, she became familiar with the smell of his shampoo. It was difficult to describe. At best, she could probably describe it as water and wood, which was dumb, but it was the best she could do, considering she was caring a guy to his bed, and he was somehow twice his normal size.

"Here we go." Ruby sat next to him, slowly easing him into his bed. Or, well, she hoped it was his bed, or this was going to be very awkward to explain. I mean, the whole thing was awkward, but-

"Huh?" Ruby felt something moving around behind her head. Looking to Jaune, she saw him leaning back and twirling his 'beak' into the back of her hair. "Uh, what are you doing?"

"Sorry." Jaune pulled away. "Your hair looked like it needed a brush or something, so..."

"Oh, uh, well... Go ahead." Ruby leaned forward a bit. "I don't mind it."

"Thanks."

Nora looked through the crack in the door. Above her, Yang was recording everything on her scroll. It was weird that this was the result of Nora's earlier prank, but hey, at least they got this cute video to share with everybody. And to be honest, Yang couldn't remember the last time Ruby looked this happy.

[strawbubbysugar]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @pillowspace I MADE IT JUST UNDER THE WIRE- ENJOY THIS FRANKENFATE AU BIRTHDAY SNIPPET !!!

(Under readmore!)

“Can I come in yet?” Vale sat against their bedroom door, arms crossed, head back as they stared at the ceiling. It was a particularly sunny, warm day, the sort of day that had fluffy white clouds rolling across the sky, high enough that no shadows were cast. If it were up to them, they would’ve been out in their- .. THE forest, helping Sun look for his crown, as they usually spent their days.

However, today they’d been tasked to stay in their room while their unexpected roommate (well, one of them) worked on something secret. They didn’t have a single clue as to what it could’ve been, though with all the banging sounds and the occasional hushed whisper, they weren’t feeling too optimistic.

“June!” They shouted at the door, shutting their eyes and groaning. “JUNE, I JUST HEARD YOU DROP A FULL BOWL.”

“YOU DIDN’T HEAR ANYTHING, YOU’RE IMAGINING THINGS. YOU’RE LITERALLY CRAZY. YOU’RE ACTING CRAZY.” June shouted back, accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dropped back onto the counter.

Vale heard the hushed whispers of Sun, who had asked if he could help- to which June had delightedly agreed that yes, he could! They could vaguely hear June whispering ‘that’s gaslighting, but I’m doing it as a joke so it’s okay. Yeah don’t worry about it big guy.’

They chuckled and rolled their eyes. June was still getting used to this time period, something that still baffled them to no end. There seemed to be plenty of modern conveniences that were so commonplace, so ingrained in daily life, that June barely had the words to describe them.

A machine that washed and dried your clothing for you was simple enough to understand, but a machine that would let you speak to someone far away, that also showed you images of them, as they spoke, as if they were there? That did about a million other things as well, the least of which involving a light brighter than a candle coming from the front of it? The device had been broken upon June’s arrival, and Vale still wasn’t entirely convinced they weren’t pulling their leg about it.

They’d had enough of simply sitting there staring at the ceiling, zoning out in between clangs and hushed whispers. They began to stand up, though they had unfortunately begun to do so the moment the door was opened, knocking them forward after wobbling on their feet.

“Oh, shit! Dude, fuck, sorry!” June gripped under their arms, helping them to stand up, much to Vale’s chagrin.

They dusted themselves off, the only real injury sustained being to their ego as June had watched them faceplant into their carpet, ass over teakettle. “You’re oddly light on your feet for someone who never does put their laces.”

June snorted, grinning their usual lopsided, cheeky smile. “And you’re oddly easy to push over with a door. Were you just sitting there listening??”

“No, I was sitting there awaiting permission to enter the rest of MY house.” They shot back, though their annoyance was undercut by the clear tone of amusement in their voice. “What were you two doing out there?”

“Jeez dude I woulda left you, like, a book or a flower to look at if I’d known you were just gonna sit there.”

“What did you think I’d do??”

June paused for a moment, frozen as they did what June had once called ‘loading’, while they registered what Vale had asked and formulated a response.

“Uh.” They smiled, though a bit more sheepishly now. “Man, I dunno! I thought you’d knit or something!”

“Knit??”

“Something old-timey, yeah!”

“You don’t have knitting in your time???”

“Wh- yeah, we do, but it’s like.. a grandma hobby. I think it’s coming back into fashion though.”

Vale shook their head, once again rendered speechless by June’s nonsense.

“No, June, I didn’t knit. Can I leave the room?? I’d like some fresh air.”

June quickly blocked their way, arms spread out to the sides. Unfortunately for Vale, they did have the height advantage.

“Wait! Wait wait wait. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“Ready to enter my own house??” They scrunched up their nose, eyes squinted in confusion as they placed their hands on their friend’s stomach, pushing them forward.

June didn’t budge, fingers hooked on the doorway to keep steady. “Are you ready for your SURPRISE!” He laughed. “Stop. I’m ticklish.”

Vale could practically hear the sound of Sun registering that information and saving it for later use, even from where he presumably was in the kitchen. Vale cracked a smile and shook their head. “Yes, I’m ready to both see my surprise, and clean up whatever mess you two made.”

“Oh come on, you know Sun was already all over that. I’ve never seen a dude more excited to wash a dish in my life.”

Vale chuckled at the idea. Taking favours from the gods certainly wasn’t something they’d ever do, not in a million years. However, June seemed more than happy to take whatever the god offered. It was more than once Vale had to stop them from agreeing to receive ridiculous, extravagant things in exchange for the two human’s assistance- worried that it would count as them taking the favour as well. However, once Sun had promised to clarify when something was a friendly gesture and when something was a godly boon, June had been allowed to accept as much help as they’d like.

Though Vale still wouldn’t be partaking. Just in case.

June let them through under their arm, grinning with delight and waving their hands in clenched fists at their sides. They’d called it ‘stimming’, once. Vale had tried it and had to admit that it felt nice to get that energy out, but found they preferred to keep their limbs under control. They glanced back to them with furrowed brows, beginning to grow nervous about the supposed surprise. It couldn’t possibly be.. no. It couldn’t. They hadn’t told a soul.

Stepping around the corner, they were greeted by their divine housemate, as he held out his hands in greeting.

“SURPRISE!” He beamed, flourishing his hands as small colourful sparks rained down from his fingers.

In front of him was a cake, lopsided and frosted in a manner that appeared not too dissimilar to the way Vale imagined a raccoon would frost a cake. Dollops of icing littered the edges in what seemed to have started as a pattern, but soon collapsed into complete chaos. The colour was somewhere between grey and blue, a result likely to be due to the berries used that also acted as decoration on the top, dotting their own pieces of frosting. Coming closer, they saw the elegant cursive handwriting, as well as the smeared icing hastily scraped off from previous attempts that had been deemed less than perfect.

Happy Birthday Friend!

Vale blinked several times in surprise, glancing between Sun, who was still beaming, and the cake. “I .. I didn’t tell either of you that it was my birthday, how did you ..”

“I’m the god of day!” Sun piped up. “And it is a birthDAY! Stands to reason that I would know each of them by heart!”

“Oh, I told Sun that if he told me when your birthday was, I’d take his favours and ask him to make dragons real.” June smiled, leaning their hands against the counter. Sun looked to them, eyebrow raised in confusion.

June quickly waved their hands at Vale when they saw the immediate flush of panic on their face, laughing worriedly. “WHOA WHOA IT WAS A GOOF ITS OKAY-“ their hands met Vale’s shoulders, steading them.

“Not funny-“ Vale groaned, head lolling back. “Gods, I felt my heart touch my feet.”

June chuckled, patting their head and mussing up their hair the second they were sure they had a solid footing once again. “Aw cmon, it was a little funny. I asked the baker in town, after he mentioned next week being special last week when we visited.”

“I should really ask him not to give away secrets to strangely dressed newcomers.” Vale muttered, glancing over their two odd companions. They looked over the cake and felt a fondness settle over them like a warm blanket.

These two had really put in far more effort into this cake than necessary. They’d tried so hard on it, and while it wasn’t perfect, it was clearly a labour of love. The sort that sent warm fuzzies to Vale’s cheeks at the thought that their friends would do this for them.

“.. but thank you. Truly. It looks .. delicious.” They smiled warmly at the both of them, though they stumbled over the last word. Delicious wasn’t the first one they’d thought of.

They were surprised once again as they were pulled into a large, warm hug by June, soon followed by a Sun who had spent a good majority of the morning cooling himself down for this. He easily wrapped his arms around the two mortals and gave a gentle squeeze, earning an ‘eep!’ From Vale, and a laugh from June.

Eating the cake would be its own challenge later, but for now, the hug was its own gift, and one welcomed with open arms as Vale melted into their friend’s arms, closing their eyes and basking in the warmth.

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and tripping over

how seventeen trip over the uneven sidewalk, basically

notes: inspired by me. who tripped over the sidewalk today. twice.

masterlist

seungcheol:

lets out a loud yelp the second his foot catches against the uneven slab of pavement they're walking on. grabs onto mingyu in front of him with so much force that the guy almost faceplants onto the floor. warns everyone behind him that the pavement is uneven, cries out like a human siren whenever someone looks like they're going to make the mistake he did and catch their foot against the concrete

jeonghan:

makes that cute "ah!" sound and stumbles over, but doesn't actually fall. the type to backtrack to the part of the floor that made him trip, wagging a finger and frowning as he scolds it. is all "hey, why did you make me trip over! why are you uneven!". tsks n shakes his head like he's disappointed in the pavement. tells the members the pavement is a little wonky, stands back and just watches as at least three of them still trip over it like he did

joshua:

in the most elegant way possible, he's basically like a baby deer. arms waving in the air and feet kicking upwards as he does a little hop and skip when his foot comes into contact with the uneven part to try and regain his balance. has fallen over onto his hands and knees 40% of the time. jeonghan laughs at him 100% of the time. makes that embarrassed face with his nose all scrunched as he smiles sweetly and tells jeonghan to kindly shut up

junhui:

doesn't trip over the pavement as much as he walks into things. once walked into all five street lamps they passed on the road bc he was too busy looking at his phone. made a surprised "oh" sound each time, before looking down at his phone and walking into a pole again. woozi dragged him from the edge of the pavement so that he was walking on the inside to prevent further incident. he ended up walking into a tree instead. 

hoshi:

saw the uneven paving stone as he was walking up to it, called out to the members to warn them of it, ended up tripping over it himself. had time to cry out, "hey guys, i'm falling over!" as his foot caught against it, but apparently didn't have time to hold out his arms to balance himself. thankfully he didn't fall flat on his face tho, bc dokyeom was in front of him and he fell onto him instead

wonwoo:

rarely trips over uneven stones, and trips over the step at the entrance of someone's house more often. has had to grab onto the front door frame countless times as he enters the dorm bc his feet seem to keep forgetting that they have to step over the slightly raised panel at the bottom of the floor. despite the countless times he's done it, however, he still laughs at mingyu when the guy trips over the front door too

woozi:

somehow always trips over the pavement when it's uneven? especially if it's already been pointed out. jeonghan will tell them that they have to be careful bc there's a paving slab that's wonky, ends up catching his foot against it not even five seconds later. never falls over, though. laughed at soonyoung when the guy tripped and made dokyeom fall over too

minghao:

gives a little yelp but manages to catch himself quickly. lets out those cute embarrassed giggles if anyone turns back to look at him, pats himself down as casually as possible and carries on walking like nothing happened at all

mingyu:

has definitely tripped on a fold in the rug before and fallen flat on his face. had a slight carpet burn on his left cheekbone for three weeks, complained every time he washed his face n said that it hurt so badly. grins guiltily (like it's his fault??) when someone looks back to see what happened whenever he almost trips then manages to catch himself. another person to pretend he didn't trip when he, in fact, did

dokyeom:

is all long, flailing limbs when he trips over, making windmill movements with his arms to stop himself from falling. succeeds in keeping his balance most of the time. screeches like it's the end of the world every single time. afterwards he tells everyone multiple times that the pavement is wonky, then rushes forward to try and catch woozi (and sometimes hoshi) when he ends up still tripping over it

seungkwan:

the clingiest. his hands are grasping at anything within his reach as he trips over, once grabbed onto the zip of vernon's backpack and emptied its contents right there in the middle of the street. releases his hold on whatever he grasped onto then lifts them up in apology once he's regained his balance. makes small surprised noises when he feels himself keel over, but he's defining nowhere near dokyeom-loud

vernon:

doesn't… seem to… trip? like ever? he looks like some sort of game character tbh, n his feet are very firmly placed on the ground. has tripped over his own feet before tho, and did a few stumbly steps and made an "whoops" sound before carrying on with his trip to the kitchen

chan:

doesn't trip over the pavement, does trip over his own feet. seems to trip over his feet every single week. has done it while walking into the practice room, walking to the bathroom, walking into stage, everywhere. the members are used to hearing his panicked noises as he catches his foot against his other foot yet again

currently taking requests

[ratlesshonret]

can never take the term "oomf" seriously, it sounds like you just fell off your bed and faceplanted onto the carpet

[mydeerfellow]

Auntie Bee's Magical Elixir Is A Bad Time And Alastor Might Never Recover

Series: Hazbin Hotel

Summary: Everyone's favorite wine aunt gifted Charlie a funky bottle of experimental Beelzejuice. Charlie, being a trusting marshmallow, dispensed the experimental juice to her nearest and dearest as a 'fun bonding experience'. Turns out it hits some harder than others. And sometimes you just need to facetime a friend to get through things.

Words: 1446

Ao3: Here

“Whoahoo, holy shit. Keep it together, Chuckles.”

Charlie caught a glimpse of Alastor’s face before he nearly faceplanted onto the floor in front of him, caught only by Angel’s fingers hooking the back of his shirt. Her eyes twitched to his empty glass, then her empty glass, followed by every other empty glass in the room. Nobody was sober, sure, but until five minutes ago she would have called all of them pretty reasonably loaded for eleven on a Thursday.

“What the fuck hit him?” Husk slurred from the opposite couch where he had been curled up with a few pillows, ready to watch whatever movie they all settled on. “Even the new guy’s not wasted yet. What the fuck.”

“Yes I am!” Pentious, who Charlie thought looked a little trashed, argued vehemently from the floor beside the semiconscious lump who used to be Alastor. “I’m, as you might say, drunk!”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t facedown on the carpet, shithead.” Husk barked irritably before shooting Charlie a look. “The fuck’s up with this stuff, kid?” He shook the glimmering gold bottle of liquor. There wasn’t much left, since Auntie Bee had been pretty clear about everybody only needing one drink, and the bottle was pretty small to begin with.

Charlie blustered. “Nothing! I don’t know!” She yelped, waving her hands before pulling out her cell, flicking rapidly through her contacts. “Auntie Bee said there was something fun about it, but she—”

“What, your aunt roofied Alastor?!” Angel yelled with a laugh. Alastor laughed along, now upright but with an expression that was gloriously unfocused.

“No! Yes! Maybe, I don’t know! She’s got a weird sense of humor!” Charlie yelled before shushing the room with one hand. “Hiiii Auntie Beeee~” She chorused, sounding probably a little more drunk than she wanted to admit. “I love youuu and I love your present~ I just have one quick little… itty bitty tiny question! About it! About the juice! Drink! Liquor!”

“Ugh, stop, you’re my favorite baby niece!” Beelzebub’s voice was as perky as ever, and maybe a little slurred herself. “Even though you could be partying with your favorite aunt. I can’t believe you bailed on my big club launch!”

“Aunt Bee, is there anything… weird about the stuff you gave me?” Charlie asked awkwardly. “Just… you said it had something fun.”

“Oh honey, if you haven’t noticed yet, y’all are doing something wrong~!” Aunt Bee cackled into the phone. “Sooo, it’s a fun li’l thing I’ve been working on. One drink gets you where you wanna be for the whoooole night.” She explained eagerly.

“Nobody else is on the floor, and we all had the same amount!”

“Ugh, I know. Different people have different reactions. Sooo lame, I know, we’re working on it. But, I mean, it’s always a surprise! It might be like a beer, it might be like a shot, it might be something really fun, it might—”

“Okay, I’m just gonna go! Okay? Okay! Love you bye!” Call ended, Charlie dragged her hands through her hair. “Okay… so, on the bright side, you’re totally fine!” She cheered, clapping while Alastor stared at her with disbelief tinged with wonder. “No harm done! Just needs to run its course!”

“I…” He slurred something unintelligible, then very slowly and deliberately reached up and wiped his mouth. “This is not what I expected.” His eyes narrowed like the room was suddenly very bright. “What… the fuck…” He caught hold of Pentious before he fell over, having started listing to the side as soon as he covered his eyes.

“Ladies and gents, he’s left the atmosphere.” Angel quipped with amusement, dropping onto the floor to sit next to Alastor, who was cross-legged and starry-eyed, looking down at his hands like they held the answers to life’s greatest mysteries. “You owe me twenty bucks.” He pointed at Husk around Alastor’s back. “I told you I’d get ‘em white-girl wasted.”

“Hell no! That was for regular-ass drinks, not this gluttony bullshit!” Husk yelled back, flipping him off. “Man’s not even drunk! He’s high as a goddamn kite is what he is!” He added loudly, gesturing at Alastor, who was currently in the process of trying to determine if the universe even existed.

“Guys!” Vaggie snapped. “Come on.” She slouched further into a couch cushion, nursing her own drink. “Al, you okay?”

He managed to wave his hand sloppily as he leaned forward and swiped Charlie’s cell off the table onto his lap. “Everything’s just fine.” He rubbed one of his eyes, then flapped a hand again. Jazz started to play at wavering volumes, seeming to gradually become louder, then quieter, then louder.

“Okay… well, this is nice! This is fun!” Charlie breathed a hard sigh of relief and sat down again, nudging Vaggie with her elbow. “I reeeally thought that was gonna go south.” She whispered under her breath, shooting her a nervous smile.

“Who the fuck—!” Her head shot up and immediately Charlie honed in on her phone. In Alastor’s extraordinarily drunk hands. With a lot of creative swearing coming out of it.

“Hiiii~” To the horror of everyone in the room, Alastor waved at Vox, who simply gaped from the phone’s screen.

“You’re loaded. What the fuck?” 

“I am indeed! I had… I don’t know. Beelzebub.” Charlie cringed.

“You're shitting me?” Vox cackled. "You just drank some shit that came straight from a Sin?"

“Ye.” Vaggie snorted next to Charlie on the couch, and she couldn’t help but notice the rest of the room had gone silent as they all blatantly eavesdropped.

From where she sat, Charlie could see Vox rubbing his face and looking only mildly irritated at worst. “Well, bear with me ‘cause I’ve got catching up to do.” He took a swig of something, then Charlie realized Vox could see her just as clearly as she could see him. “Oh my God, that’s the saddest looking party I’ve ever seen. You should honestly kill yourself.”

“What the fuck? Nobody even invited you, dickbag!” Vaggie exclaimed while Alastor merely laughed and turned until Charlie couldn’t see the screen anymore, which didn’t stop any of them from hearing “I didn’t want to be invited, bitch!”

Which, Charlie had to admit, was kind of valid.

“Minnesota.” Alastor said suddenly, looking deeply invested in whatever answer Vox was supposed to come up with for that.

“Nope. Hawaii.”

“1932. Beautiful place, but I wouldn’t live there.” Alastor slurred thoughtfully, ignoring the rest of the room altogether as he set about cleaning his nails with his sleeve. “Plus, it was a nuisance to get there.”

“Cry all you want, planes are where it’s at.” Vox already sounded a little buzzed, which was kind of impressive. “It’s your turn, by the way.”

“Oh I know. Give me a moment.” Alastor shot back, too slurred to really give a definitive tone. “Kentucky.”

“1957. Some shithole town. Real Nowheresville.”

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged a look, then Husk cut in from the couch beside theirs. “You don’t wanna know, kid. Trust me.” He rolled his eyes.

“Why— Oookay, not asking.” Charlie raised her hands innocently when Vaggie rounded on her with a look that meant she should probably listen for once. “Jesus Christ, Alastor.” Vaggie pinched the bridge of her nose.

To her surprise, Vox echoed Vaggie's sentiment verbatim to something Alastor was talking about. When Charlie glanced over, Angel looked like he had heard something he hadn’t quite gotten around to emotionally processing, caught somewhere between amusement and horror.

“Dramatic. Where are you?” Alastor squinted at the screen.

“Somewhere called none of your fucking business. Where the fuck are you?”

“The hotel. I said that.”

“Good for fucking you! Annoying prick.”

Charlie clapped her hands. “Ookay, does anyone else wanna play…” She looked at Vaggie urgently.

“I got games in my room!” Angel Dust raised his hand eagerly, dodging a mock swipe from Husk. “Ayy, I’m serious! I got Mario Kart!”

Charlie glanced around and blinked. “I mean… can we all fit in your room?”

“You know I can make anything fit, baby~“ Angel cackled as he led the procession out of the rec room, guiding Alastor by the shoulders, seeing as he kept tilting drastically to the left or right. Vox was still swearing a lot, though it seemed to be mainly directed at Husk, who was nodding sympathetically. Niffty was on Pentious’s head, keeping him upright through brute force while Vaggie tried to corral him in the right direction.

It was chaotic, but Charlie couldn’t help feeling a little empowered by it. After all, there was no way, despite everything, a night like this didn’t push everybody just a little closer to redemption.

[cookies-over-yonder]

i don't know how to say this, 'cause you're really my dearest friend

Five times Taylor and Link almost kissed, and one time they finally did.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | +1 | ao3

[title from Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) by Studio Killers]

1. The first time was after a fall.

☆

Taylor Swift is no stranger to coordination issues.

He manages to work his way around them with extra practice of wielding weapons, but sometimes it sneaks up on him.

Like right now.

Seemingly having tripped over nothing, Taylor falls forward and braces himself for impact.

The floor of Link's house is wooden, so Taylor can't even console himself by the idea of falling onto carpet. How did he slip? He doesn't know. It just happens. Sometimes no amount of training and practicing can prevent the air from sabotaging him.

And he knows it will hurt, because the floor is hard and it always hurts. It always hurts, but he recovers. But before he recovers, he's going to faceplant. He scrunches his face up, ready to hit the ground.

But then he stays suspended in the air.

"Are you okay?"

Taylor opens his eyes. Link is holding him by the arms and scanning his face with wide eyes.

Wide eyes… that are so close to his face.

Taylor feels a rush of heat coursing through him as he runs his gaze down Link's worried face, stopping at his lips.

They're pressed tightly together in concern, and then they're open, and saying something…

And Link is breathing, and Taylor can feel it on his face.

And Link says his name, and with the way the syllables sound on his tongue, Taylor feels like he's been put under a spell. 

Hypnotized.

Enchanted.

And he says it again, and it's just as mesmerizing as before.

They're so close together. Only a sliver of space prevents them from making contact.

There's one thought plaguing Taylor's mind and making him feel like he could melt.

What it would feel like to close that gap…

Taylor finds his body moving without his permission, chasing the pull of Link's lips like a magnet.

"Taylor!" Link shouts, and Taylor's shoulders are shaking. Link is shaking them.

"Hu—uh… yeah?" Taylor asks, dazed. The gap is wider now—Link must have made him stand upright.

"I asked if you were okay and you didn't respond," Link's lips move fast. "You looked like you were about to pass out."

Taylor's face burns.

"I—uh, I'm fine—" he winces at the way his voice cracks. "Sorry. Thanks."

"You should sit down," Link says, guiding him to the couch, hands still on his shoulders. "I'll get you some water."

"Mm, yeah," Taylor says, only half-processing Link's words because his hands are still on his shoulders…

Once Link sits Taylor down and leaves his side to get water, Taylor buries his face in his hands. God, he really is burning.

"Here," Link says, sitting next to him. Taylor lifts his head and sees a glass of water being held out to him. He takes a sip.

"Thanks. Sorry, didn't mean to freak you out."

"It's fine, I just wanna make sure you're okay."

"I'm okay. I have coordination problems sometimes. That's why I tripped. I'm not gonna faint or anything."

Probably not, he thinks. With the way Link is looking at him, nothing is off the table.

"Okay. Just… drink some water," Link says, and Taylor takes a sip. "You look really red."

Taylor chokes.

"Slowly," Link adds, patting Taylor's back as he coughs up water.

"Yep," Taylor says between coughs. "Got it."

Oh, god.

☆

[darkodomain]

CHAPTER 6 :: Under the Milky Way

"Carrying Danny to the car was the easy part compared to getting him up the stairs and into Sam’s bedroom without encountering her family. When she and Tucker had gone to pull him out of the back of the Mustang, Danny had suddenly become fully alert, holding up his shaking hands as if he were going to blast them with ectorays in self defense, before promptly passing back out. As reassuring as that was regarding his consciousness, his jerky movements had restarted the flow of blood in every single one of his injuries and it hadn’t stopped since.

After hauling him out of the car by his wrists and ankles, Tucker managed to heft Danny’s limp, lanky body up onto his back piggyback-style and he and Sam exchanged a weary look before beginning to navigate the Manson mansion. Tucker tripped up the carpeted stairs once or twice, but Sam grabbed his arm and he regained his footing before ever actually faceplanting, Danny’s head jostling around on his shoulder as he stumbled. Once safely behind a locked door, Tucker eased Danny to the floor, pulled off his jacket, and laid it across Sam’s bed. Together, he and Sam carefully maneuvered Danny onto the jacket and suddenly, they were on autopilot, a routine that had been established long ago."

[dragonjesterwrites]

Late af but have a Valentine's Day oneshot I whipped up in like an hour and some change

Please enjoy 2k words of Sun and Moon getting jealous of your new Roomba lmao

~~~~~

"Hey, loves, I'm back!"

You stooped to pick up the hefty box by your feet as the front door swung open, the keys still in the lock marking the movement with their jingling. The indoor air that rushed briefly over you smelled like freshly baked, warm cookies, and beneath that, tinges of lemon and pine.

Sun rounded the corner in a flash of yellow, skidding to a stop in front of you and bouncing up and down on his heels. "Welcome home, Sunshine! Whatcha got there? Do you want me to carry it in? And how was work?"

You let out a warm laugh and leaned up and over to kiss your hyperactive partner, enjoying the excited nuzzling he immediately reciprocated with. "I've got it, love, thank you. Work was great, and as for this-" You shifted the box in your arms as you carried it in, toward the living room. "-Well, you'll see in a minute."

"Ooh, a surprise~!" Sun exclaimed, hanging back for a moment to pull the keys out and close the front door before bounding over. "Can I guess what it is? Can I?"

"Yeah, you can guess. We have time until Moon gets here. Where is he, anyway?" You asked, setting the box down and looking over your shoulder from your crouched position.

"He's in the garage, organizing the bins- we spent the whole day cleaning and baking!" Sun told you, and you stood to survey the house. The pillow fort on the couch had been redone, neater and cozier, the gleaming floors swept and mopped, the bookcases and coffee table free of dust- even the walls and ceilings looked clean.

It looked amazing, and you turned and hugged him, standing on your tip-toes to pepper appreciative kisses all over his faceplate, smiling when he giggled and wrapped his arms around you tighter.

"Thank you, love, the place looks great." You finally said, pulling back and resting on your feet.

"Aw, you're welcome, Sunbeam!" He replied, dipping down to gently bop his static grin against your forehead. He let go of you fully then, and turned to consider the box, bringing a thumb and finger up to the bottom of his faceplate while his rays pulsed slowly in and out. "Now then… let's see…"

You watched in mild amusement as he knocked on the top of the box, then retracted his rays on one side so he could press his audio receptor to the top of it. "Hrmmm…"

He lifted his head back up and shook it, rays popping out with a ping, then placed one hand flat on the top and tipped it forward, lowering himself further to inspect the bottom. He didn't find anything, given that you'd put the original box into a plain white one so they wouldn't know what it is, and he let out an agitated whine that you had to stifle a laugh at.

"Oh, I simply don't know!" He cried, sprawling out onto the carpet, lanky limbs askew and one hand cast dramatically across his forehead. "Won't you tell me, Dewdrop? Else I fear I shall die of curiosity."

"You'll be fine." Moon called out, the garage door creaking distantly, and you grinned as Sun gasped in excitement, shooting up at the hips before scrambling to stand, apparently recovered from his syncope.

Moon arrived and paused to dip down and nuzzle against your neck, purring quietly, before reaching the box and peering down at it, faceplate tilting this way and that.

"Alright, I give up." He said after about five seconds, turning to you. "May we open it?"

"You barely even tried!" Sun scoffed playfully, then looked at you too. "Can we?"

"Go ahead." You said, a bit eager yourself, and Sun quickly knelt down and tore the lid off of the white box, the tape strips giving way with a series of split-second snaps!

Moon pulled the box out and set it down, and they both fell quiet and still as they examined it.

It was a robotic vacuum cleaner, not top of the line but very well reviewed all the same. You figured it would give you all some more free time, especially Sun and Moon, as they often cleaned while you were at work. You'd also gotten it because you'd seen others name theirs, give it 'treats' in the form of sprinkles or crumbs, and otherwise bond with it like a family pet, and thought it was adorable. 

You waited excitedly for their response, but the silence dragged on, and you felt yourself falter. "What do you think?" You asked after another few seconds, and they seemed to snap out of it then.

"Oh- yeah, I like it." Sun said, giving the box a single pat.

"Mmhmm. Definitely could be very helpful around the house." Moon added.

You wavered, hopeful but still unsure. "It's not, er- offensive, or anything-?"

"No, no, not in the slightest." Sun assured you with a shake of his head. "We like it, really."

You weren't entirely convinced, but you supposed you should just take them at their word and shrugged it off. "Alright, I'll get it set up then! It won't need to clean yet, since you two already have-" You paused to kiss them both briefly, making them both purr, a touch loudly, you noticed- "but just to help it map out the floors. You guys wanna watch a movie or something while it does?"

"Ooh, yeah, let's do that!" Sun said, springing to his feet as his excitable energy abruptly returned, relieving you of the last of the worry that had tensed you up.

"Awesome. You guys kick back and get settled in, I'll take care of the vacuum and the movie."

Well, not exactly the reaction you'd been hoping for, you thought as you finished setting up the movie before kneeling down to open the second box, but maybe they'd like it better after awhile. Maybe they'd even name it.

~~~~~

"Idiot." Sun muttered as the robot vacuum hit a wall for the nth time that morning, clattering loudly.

"Moron." Moon said, throwing a piece of popcorn at it.

It bounced harmlessly off of the vacuum's outer shell and came to rest in front of it. The vacuum paused in its crawl across the floor, as if to consider the offending debris, then maneuvered around it, prompting Moon to grumble and get out of his seat to pick it up himself.

"See? He can't even do his job right." Sun exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air before tightly crossing them. "Needs us to do it for him."

Moon merely grunted in agreement as he passed by, dropping the popcorn piece in the trash bin. The vacuum's whirring got louder as it rounded the corner, trundling in towards him, and Moon had to resist the urge to hiss at it.

"I don't know why our Sunshine got you when they have us." Sun continued sullenly, glaring at the table as the vacuum made a left to go under and began to clatter about below. "We're more sophisticated, more handsome, and we don't run into things constantly."

"...They were trying to do something nice." Moon reluctantly pointed out as he retook his seat. "Now we have more free time." 

"Yeah, I know." Sun sighed, sinking down until the bottom of his faceplate rested on the table. "I just- you saw how they were cooing over him- it- the other day."

"Mm. I remember." Moon replied, recalling perfectly the way you had spent a good half hour fussing over the vacuum after it had gotten clogged- one too many popcorn kernels, apparently. Once you'd cleared it out, you'd reassured it with petting and sprinkles, and even knelt down to give it a little kiss.

He shot the plastic beast a sour glare as it finally freed itself from the tangle of dining chair legs and skittered away.

"I don't know, Moony." Sun sighed, catching Moon's attention. "Maybe being jealous of it is- is silly. It's not sentient like us, after all. What if-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the vacuum bumped into the bookcase, and a framed picture of him and Moon fell, smashing upon contact with the ground. The vacuum crawled on top of the mess and then let out its stuck chirp before beginning to rotate idly on top of the shattered glass, crunching it and driving it into the carpet.

Sun let out a wordless shout of indignation and stomped over to the bookcase, Moon following quickly behind.

"Don't hurt it." He warned, even as murderous intent lit up his own circuits.

"I won't." Sun replied, grabbing the vacuum up off of the floor and carrying it away.

Moon bent down to pick up the picture and frame it was encased in, shaking off the glass before setting it on the bookcase and going to the kitchen for the better vacuum.

By the time he'd lugged it in, Sun had returned, notably without the vacuum, and Moon paused to cock his head at him. "What did you do with it?"

"Put it in the bathtub- no water. Best time out spot I could think of." Sun told him, inspecting the picture frame himself, and Moon nodded as he moved to plug the regular vacuum in.

But before the triple prongs reached the outlet, the sound of a key turning a lock made them both stop and whip their heads around.

"Hey guys, I'm back." You called out, sounding far more tired than you had the past few days. Sun immediately headed over, and Moon looked between the vacuum and the direction of the door only once before getting up and joining you both.

You were in the middle of a yawn as he turned the corner, and he had to resist the affectionate urge to pick you up and carry you to bed for cuddles and a nap. "Long day?" He asked instead, and you chuckled and nodded.

"Yeah. Looking forward to chilling out with you two and Jerry. Where is Jerry, anyway?"

Jerry was the name Sun had suggested for the vacuum. Fitting, if perhaps, Moon acknowledged, a bit cruel- Jerry had been a Parts and Services tech. His constant incompetence and tendency to break things had eventually gotten him fired, but not before he'd wooed half the human staff, something Moon hadn't been able to comprehend for the life of him. You were… admittedly not aware of who Jerry was, having been hired long after his departure, but what you didn't know wouldn't hurt you. 

Although… he did feel a pang of guilt, as you had taken his and Sun's suggestion as acceptance of the vacuum, and they hadn't corrected you in any way.

"Er- Jerry is in time-out." Sun said, beginning to fiddle with his wrist.

"Time-out?" You frowned. "Why?"

"He bumped into the bookcase and broke a picture." Moon explained, and your frown deepened.

"He didn't do it deliberately. He's not sentient- right?" Sun and Moon both vigorously shook their heads at your mildly hesitant question. "Okay, so I don't think he's gonna learn anything from time-out."

"No." Sun muttered. "Suppose not."

You were quiet for a minute, and Moon found himself unable to meet your gaze, shifting from leg to leg as you considered him.

"You're jealous of Jerry." You finally said, making them both wince. It wasn't an accusation, but it wasn't a question either.

"Yes." Moon admitted.

"...How'd you know?" Sun asked.

You chuckled quietly, and then Moon felt a warm hand take his, and he looked up as you led them both to the couch.

"Well, for starters, all you do is glare at it." You began after you were all settled in. "One time, Sunny, I heard you hiss at it. I know where the name Jerry came from- Abby told me. Then there was the time you tried to assassinate it with popcorn kernels, Moony-"

"I wasn't trying to kill it." Moon protested, faltering when you and Sun turned to look at him. "I was just… throwing them at it."

"You hate it." You concluded, and they both nodded.

"Yes, okay, we hate it. We got jealous, and it was stupid, but- it bumps into everything, including us, and it doesn't clean as well as we do, and we just- we just felt like we were being replaced." Sun finally admitted.

He'd started off loud and ended quietly, and the expression on your face was one Moon could only describe as heartbreak.

"I'm sorry. Come here." You said, tugging at them, and they followed your urging, laying down and wrapping themselves around you.

"Don't apologize. We're the ones that should be sorry." Moon mumbled, clutching at you as you petted the rim of his faceplate.

"Yeah. We'll leave Jerry alone. And… maybe rename him." Sun suggested sheepishly, but then he made a curious noise as your laughter gently shook them.

"I mean, it's kinda funny. He does miss a lot of stuff." You said, and Moon leaned into the kiss you pressed against his forehead. "But hey, listen. I'd never replace you two, never. You're my soulmates, and Jerry's a piece of plastic. Tell you what-"

You shifted, and Moon unwound his arm from around your back so you could pull out your phone, watching curiously as you opened it up and began to tap away at the screen with one hand. "I'll call Abby and see if she wants Jerry. Lord knows it could help her with Sweet Potato and Gingerbread."

"Starlight, are you sure?" Moon asked hesitantly. Abby's two cats were fluffy little things, both adorable and extraordinarily messy, and the vacuum certainly would take some stress off of her, but Moon knew the vacuum had eased your worries too, not to mention cost you a pretty penny.

"Yeah. I'll pick up the slack. I'm thinking we can have cleaning days, where we put on music and tidy up the house together." You said, smiling kindly down at Moon. Stars, you were lovely.

"That does sound like a lot of fun." Sun said with a content sigh, sitting up some where you lay on top of him and wrapping his arms around you tighter.

"Awesome." You angled your head back, and Sun extended his neck to meet you halfway, gently pressing into your kiss before you moved back and glanced back down at the phone. "Let me call Abby, and then we can maybe make some brownies? I grabbed a box from the store on my way home."

"I love you." Moon said, and you laughed- such a pretty sound, he thought.

"I love you, too."

[ru-draws]

Slowly Learning (That Life Is Okay)

——

A Little Night Music AU

I’m still writing it, never fear, it’s just slow going. I have this habit of writing completely out of order—especially since this story is based in music, and my song fixations are fickle AF.

(Excerpt from a far-away chapter) We’re Talking Away:

Moon stared at your phone—but to your dismay, he didn’t move to take it. For a moment, you were afraid Sun had been wrong—that not even this kind of olive branch would work.

When he finally moved, you nearly jerked back. He paused. Watching you. Reading you. Moon touched down onto the carpet. Then, he touched the phone at last. And he scrolled. For the longest thirty seconds of your life.

When his hand slid from the device, you frowned at his selection. It was the track you’d been looping since your talk with Sun. He’d been listening.

“…You sure? You’re not bored of this one yet?”

His eyelights shuttered briefly. Then nothing. If you didn’t know any better, you could have mistaken him for an elaborate art installation; standing like a mannequin in the neon light. His stillness in these moments still unnerved you just enough. Which was likely their intention, regardless of the fragile bridges you were rebuilding.

He lifted a hand—the lack of bells nearly startling you; an unpleasant reminder of how you got to this point. But you didn’t flinch. You promised. You waited.

Moon’s faceplate rotated, slowly, the gears clicking mutely. And slowly, gently, his fingers touched the edge of your phone again.

Tap. Tap.

You huffed.

“You’re the boss.”

You hit play.

As the first wave of synth drums pulsed in your fingers, Moon lifted off the ground once more. He regarded you, ever silent—his eyelights glowing across your face. You searched for words. Something, anything, to keep this moment from ending—to delay Moon from taking off into the dark again.

And then he’s soaring. Twisted up in that cable like aerial silk, swinging, tinny laughter floating over the familiar synthesized music. Something in your chest unclenched. You couldn’t help a smile as he passed just a bit too close, brushing your shoulder, the point of his hat nearly hitting your chin. He twirled, hooking the wire around his foot, and swung by again. Like he’s remembering how to fly.

Show off.