#he's the guy to help you with your taxes; before heading out for a drink and to sing some songs shinra would have fired him for

[soundcrusher]

2, 4, 14, 35 for YOU GUESSED IT! Reeve!!

Honestly, I was expecting something else from you. But I would never turn down my babygirl.

2: A canon or headcanon hill I will die on

Hmmm… what hill shall I chose to die on?

Well, this is going to sound boring, but I’m definitely standing with the “Reeve’s an Inspire” side of the hill. From what I have read and seen, it’s a really cool concept and a shame that it’s not utilized in the games. I mean, how cool is the power to breath live into inanimate objects?

And the way I see it, an inanimate object isn’t just limited to machines and robots, like Cait Sith. The definition of “inanimate” can encapsule so many things, the only thing stopping Reeve from inspiring something like a mug, is himself.

Honestly, I don’t think this man knows just what exactly he can do. Be it from a lack of knowing, or a fear of experimentation.  

(I also like to think that there’s a connection between people with the inspire ability and the planet. It’s probably not like the connection the Cetras have, but it is kind of weird that someone would exist, who has a similar ability as to the lifestream. I mean, the lifestream is said to be able to bring new life, something that this middle-aged guy in a suit can do too, just not in that extent.)

4: Favourite line

This is a hard one, because I have little experience with Reeve outside Remake and Rebirth, and I haven’t gotten far in Dirge of Cerberus. But one quote that stuck out to me, even more than the one where Reeve talks about the Sector Seven plate crash, is this one from Dirge of Cerberus.

Reeve: “Let me ask you. Does the wind sound like a thousand wailing souls? Listen. Can you hear them? The cries?”

It’s hard to explain, at least for me, but the way Reeve says this, with a voice that might sound level-headed, but at the same time conveys so much fear. It struck me and made me wonder at the same time. How many hear the voices?

It is said that the people of Edge hear the voices, but it still makes me wonder.  Is there a difference between Reeve and other people.

Either way, it’s a cool line and I fucking love it for the vibes it brings.

14: Most heroic moment

Fucking damn it. As I already said, I only know Reeve from Rebirth, Remake and what little I have seen from Dirge of Cerberus, but if I had to pick the “most heroic moment” from the limited knowledge I have, I would have to go with the one, where Cait Sith sees the aftermath of the plate drop.

Yes, it’s not directly Reeve, but, it’s still him.

From what I know, Reeve sees the things he creates as his children, or, at least, they are similar viewed. Which means, sending Cait to Sector Seven was a deliberate act on Reeve’s part. Perhaps, he wanted to warn people, try to save as many people as he could, and or prevent the drop all together. He builds those things after all, and or knows the passwords to the support pillars.

As Cait, he could have done something, if the time wasn’t up. And so, I like to believe that that’s his most heroic moment. Even if he failed, and he did fail, what’s more heroic than trying to right a wrong, despite of what could happen to you.

I am also sure that, if Shinra would have caught Reeve meddling with their plans, our man could have had a fate worse than death. And he most like knew that, but still decided to send Cait out to act as a proxy.

And, by all means, that’s more heroic than blowing up reactors and killing thousands of innocent people. (There, I said it.)

35: Their idea of a perfect day

Honestly, I doubt that Reeve ever gets a perfect day.

This man attracts chaos and whatnot on a daily basis, while also having to deal with a plethora of people vying for his attention. There’s hardly any time for a “perfect” day.

And while I could say that, a perfect day for him would be one, where work’s just right and he doesn’t get bothered by anyone (be it during Shinra time or when he leads the WRO), I still like to think that a perfect day doesn’t involve work at all.

A perfect day for Reeve, as I see it, would involve him being at home. Tinkering with his next little invention, or just doing a silly thing. Like sowing Cait Sith some new clothes (that’s a headcanon of mine), or doing other tasks that keep his hands occupied, while he’s relaxing. Maybe he’s even reading a new book, but falling asleep halfway through, and getting some of that needed sleep back.

His perfect day could also involve deepening the friendships he made, by either visiting Tifa’s bar, or hanging out with Cid. I mean, you can’t just introduce two engineers and not stick them together in a room to tinker together and create new inventions. Like, I bet they tried to make a jet-bag once, only for Vincent to stop them.

But yeah. A perfect day is just a day where Reeve gets to do things he wants to do, while not worrying about work.

[andshesaidwhat]

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Summary: Clay returns to The Silk Rose to see you again but, this time, you’re aware of who he truly is. He arrives with more of his questions and stories, but this time he pushes it a little too far…

Warnings: angst, arguing, descriptions of sex work, Clay can’t read the room.

Playlist | Masterlist

The smell of sweat and hairspray filled the air as you found yourself back at the club far sooner than you would’ve liked. You sat at your vanity, getting ready to begin the first set of your shift as Frenchie droned on about some creep who kept trying to slip her a fifty for a rule break.

“I told him that there was not enough hair on his head for him to have this kind of audacity,” she scoffed, reapplying her lipgloss. “If he was at least hot, maybe I would’ve flashed him a tit for a twenty, but I have no interest in catering to men who look like death warmed over…unless they’re offering to play my bills, now that would be a different story.”

You laughed as she ranted, amused by her mindless rambling. You’d take anything to get your mind off of the looming shift ahead of you. The place was crawling with the usual sleazy regulars, and the thought of entertaining them made your stomach churn.

Normally, it wasn’t something you would’ve minded. You would’ve known you could make a few extra bucks, and it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to…but then he came along.

How could you be content giving lap dances to sordid men when you could be drinking champagne and dancing to beautiful stories?

Damn him.

“What’s on your mind, sweet cheeks?” Frenchie asked, crossing her legs as she turned in her chair to face you.

You shook your head and said, “It’s nothing, French. Just some customer I had the other day.”

“Ah, the private room guy, eh?” Frenchie mused, wiggling her eyebrows. “I saw Sal hand you a big ole wad of cash afterward. You must’ve given him some performance in there.”

You’d been perplexed by the money at first, too. Of course, now, you knew that it was probably chump change to a man like him.

Clay Beresford.

You still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. What had the city’s hottest playboy been doing at a run down club on the Lower East Side? He was a billionaire for chrissakes, he could buy his own damn strip club if he wanted to. Did he think he was doing some kind of charity work, tipping extra to a girl leagues below his tax bracket?

Fuck that.

“He’s just another one of those men with their savior complex fantasies, trying to see more from this place than there is,” you shrugged, the bitterness in your tone palpable.

“Shit, doll,” Frenchie laughed, “with a tip like that, I’d let him save me any day he wanted to.”

You cracked an amused smile, shaking your head as you took off your robe and prepared for your set. Frenchie locked pinkies with you, wishing you luck before you made your way to the curtain at the back of the stage.

When it was time, the curtains opened and the warm lights hit you as you heard the whoops and cheers of the crowd. Bills immediately started flying as you began dancing about the stage, teasing and seducing as you went. You moved through the motions of your routine, feeling removed from it all, until you looked in the crowd and saw those striking blue eyes.

A smug smile crossed Clay’s face as he raised his glass to you in a silent toast, his eyes never leaving yours.

You tried to shake off the distraction, focusing on the rhythm of the music and the movement of your body. Still, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him as your mind raced with questions.

What was he doing here? Was this some kind of game? Was he trying to prove a point? Couldn’t he just hire his own strippers?

You tried to block all of it out, but those blue eyes stayed locked in the entire time. You’d looked back at him, just to make sure you weren’t somehow imagining it as you left the stage.

Your set hadn’t even been finished for an entire minute before Sal met you backstage to inform you that you had another private room booking.

It didn’t take much guessing to figure out who’d booked you.

With a huff, you made your way down the hall. You took a deep, steadying breath as you stood before room four again.

This is a transaction, you thought to yourself, I am just doing my job.

You entered the room to see Clay lounging on the couch again, as devastatingly beautiful as ever.

You turned on the facade, ready to perform as you asked, “Back so soon, pretty boy?”

Clay’s eyes sparkled with amusement as his gaze raked over you. His voice was rich and low as he said, “I couldn’t resist the temptation, Cherry. Besides, I wanted to see you again. You’re quite the performer, you know.”

“Come, join me. Let’s continue where we left off,” he said, patting the couch, offering for you to sit beside him.

“You know how this works,” you told him, shaking your head as you walked over to turn on the stereo. “I dance, you ask questions.”

You sauntered back over toward him, moving your body to the sensual beat of the music. Clay bit down on his lip, holding your gaze with intensity as you danced.

“I think I remember the rules, Cherry,” he smirked, his voice sultry, “but I have a proposition for you.”

You raised a brow, curiosity etching itself into your features as you nodded, “Go on.”

“How about I tell you a story and you dance for me?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows against his knees as he clasped his hands together. “I want to see you dance to my words, to feel the emotions they evoke in you.” He paused, his gaze lingering on you. “What do you say, Cherry?”

You felt your chest ache as your bravado momentarily slipped.

Hearing him tell another story was so tempting, but you didn’t like the way it threatened to make your heart flip — and you certainly wouldn’t let yourself be pulled into exploring his mind. You wouldn’t be roused to finding the story behind him and making something of it. That part of yourself was locked away.

“I don’t dance like that anymore,” you responded, trying to mask the sadness swimming through you. You rolled your hips seductively as you said, “Besides, that’s not the kind of dancing you paid for.”

Clay’s eyes softened, his gaze seeming to understand your reluctance.

“I apologize, Cherry,” he said, his voice sincere. “I didn’t mean to push you. I’m just…intrigued by you.”

He watched, intently, as you danced. His attention never wavering, even as his mind seemed to be reeling with something.

“Tell me, Cherry,” he began, after a moment. “What is it you’re running from?”

Ouch.

That certainly hit a sore spot. You didn’t want to think about your past. You didn’t want to think about the person you were or what turned you into the person you had become now.

“What about you?” You countered, trying to keep your tone playful. “What’s a beloved playboy celebrity doing in a small strip club like this?”

Clay nodded, solemnly, casting his gaze downward. He didn’t allow the slip in his demeanor to remain for long, replacing the small frown with a thoughtful look.

“I’ve always been drawn to the unpredictable, Cherry,” he said, his voice low and measured. “To the raw, untamed beauty of human nature.” He paused, his eyes looking up to meet yours. “Perhaps I’m just looking for something real in a world filled with illusion. Besides, everyone needs a break from the limelight every now and again.”

You cocked your head to the side and asked, “Is this not an illusion? We’re paid to fill the shoes of our paying customer’s fantasies.”

You slowly walked over toward him, placing your hands on the top of the couch as you leaned close to his ear and whispered, “Is this your fantasy?”

Clay’s breath caught in his throat as you leaned over him, his eyes locking onto yours.

“This isn’t a fantasy, Cherry,” he murmured, barely above a whisper. “This is a moment of truth amidst the lies,” his gaze burned with desire as he continued, “but maybe you’re right. Maybe I’m seeking an escape. A reprieve from the life I’ve built around me.”

He leaned in, his lips almost brushing against your ear as he whispered, “What about you, hm? Is this your reality, or are you seeking your own escape?”

You threw your head back in exasperation, letting out a laugh as you said, “Don’t you ever ask normal questions? What happened to things like: what’s your favorite color?”

Clay chuckled softly, eyes crinkling as he gripped the edge of the couch.

“Sorry, Cherry,” he smiled, his tone tinged with humor. “I can’t help but be drawn to the deeper questions but, if you insist…” He paused, his eyes locked onto you. “Tell me, Cherry. What’s your favorite color?”

You stopped dancing for a moment and let yourself gaze into his eyes.

Those damned dazzling eyes.

“Blue,” you said, quietly, a small smile threatening to pull at your lips.

“Blue, huh?” Clay grinned, his features softening. “A color of depth and mystery. Just like you, Cherry.”

You know that you shouldn’t be indulging in this. Getting to know each other. It was reckless and idiotic and couldn’t lead to anything good. Still, you found yourself asking, “What about you? What’s your favorite color, pretty boy?”

“Red,” he replied, without a moments hesitation. His grin widened, admiration and playfulness dancing in his eyes. “My favorite color is red.”

You cocked a brow, your tone dripping with amusement as you asked, “Like Cherries?”

“Yes,” he responded, cheekily. “Cherries, passion, danger, love. It’s a color that represents all of the things we crave in life. Mostly, it’s a color that reminds me of you. The fiery spirit that burns within you, hidden under layers of meticulously crafted ice. You’re an enigma wrapped in a riddle.”

“Do you make habits of waxing poetic to every stripper you hire?” You quipped, smirking at him despite the way your heart was racing.

“I don’t make a habit of hiring strippers, Cherry,” he laughed, softly, “but, if I did, I imagine they’d all wish that they were as fascinating as you.”

The tension in the air was palpable. You could hear the drum of your heart beneath your chest as his hands itched to reach out for you.

You swallowed thickly, the need to create distance between the two of you urgent.

You stood back up, continuing to move to the music as you tried to calm the roaring storm inside of you. You were dancing on thin ice and, if you weren’t careful, you would surely sink beneath it.

Clay watched you, thoughtfully. His mind was transfixed, his eyes following the curves of your body. He couldn’t deny the magnetic pull he felt toward you, though he tried to adhere to the boundaries set in place. Still, he couldn’t stop from wondering of all of the possibilities.

“You’re getting awfully quiet over there, pretty boy,” you joked. “Run out of questions?”

“No, Cherry,” he said, laughing softly. “I’m just appreciating the view.” He slowly licked his lips, leaning forward. “I could tell you another story if you’d like?”

“Ah, another one of those poetic stories,” you sighed, giving him a playful grin as you spun around. “You’re paying for your time in here. If you want to fill it with your musings, be my guest.”

“Very well,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Let me spin you a tale of a woman who ran from her past, only to find herself entangled in a web of desire and deceit. The heroin of my story, much like you, struggled to maintain control — to keep her emotions at bay. As fate would have it, she found solace in the most unexpected of places, and love in the arms of a man who refused to be ignored.”

His voice was hypnotizing as he spoke and you stopped dancing for a moment, standing still with curious eyes locked on him — waiting for him to go on.

“In the end, Cherry,” he continued, the sincerity in his voice nearly sickening, “she learned that, sometimes, the greatest escape comes from facing the truth.”

His eyes searched yours, searching for a reaction — for answers.

A lump formed in your throat and you tried to swallow it down. Damn these men and their idealistic savior complexes. They think that they are the perfect hero, searching for their damsel in distress.

“Shakespeare is rolling in his grave, pretty boy,” you said, with less play in your voice than you’d intended.

“Oh, I don’t doubt it, Cherry,” he smiled, “but, then again, life has a way of writing its own plays, doesn’t it? So, tell me, do you ever wonder what your story would be?”

“I think we all write our own stories,” you told him, “and I don’t think half of them are as grand and you’d like for them to be.”

“I believe that there’s magic in every day life, Cherry,” he said, softly. “Even the smallest acts can hold immense significance.” He paused, his fingers tapping on the arm rest. “You’re right, though, I can be overly romantic at times.” His eyes met yours, his voice low and earnest. “Your story may not be grand, but I suspect it’s far from ordinary.”

His words, these moments…it was all too much. You wouldn’t fall for these games. You knew how men like him worked. Your job be damned.

“You know nothing of my story,” you said, quietly, turning off the music as the timer rang. “You just pay me to fill whatever void it is you’ve got in your precious high end life. I’m just a fantasy to people like you, remember?”

You held his gaze, blinded by your building anger. You could feel the walls of your defensiveness closing in around you.

You walked toward the door, only pausing to say one last thing.

“Don’t come back.”

Clay watched you go, his face heavy with a mixture of regret and longing.

“Cherry…” he started, his voice pleading, but you were gone before he could finish — leaving him alone with his thoughts once again.

You hurried to the dressing room, changing into normal clothes and grabbing your things.

Frenchie gave you a questioning look, but you simply said, “You can have the rich savior men, I don’t want them.”

You walked out the door, barely stopping to grab the cash from Sal as you left. You didn’t need to count it to know that it was an obscene amount of money.

You went home to your apartment, trying to drown out the sense of emptiness you felt in the pit of your stomach. You never should’ve let his words affect you. You should’ve kept everything transactional. Guys like him just wanted a side project — something to entertain them.

You didn’t have any interest in being a part of their world.

————————————————————————

tag list

@haydensbbg @dinorawrss

[hina-hina]

Could you possibly do Ghost or König falling head over heels in a bar over fem! reader, but upon actually going to talk her they find she's mostly mute, signing and such. Though eager to try and converse with this tall masked man who sits at her booth, all pretty smiles and leaning in to listen.

Hello and thank you for requesting!!! This was a super cute senario!! I already wrote a selectively mute reader imagine, but this one is going to be slightly different!

Guys, I'm so sorry for being behind this week! I think I know what I want to do for 1K, but I think I'm going to finish with requests first! Again, sorry for ending my daily posts but hopefully this will cause more high quality work!

First and foremost, I am a Roach-Ghost bestie stan. Someone help me with writing accents!!! ::>_<::

This work is not beta read!!!

→ COD Masterlist

|| Ghost + König With a Mute S/O ||

Tags: Protective Ghost, Meet-Cute, Exchanging of Numbers, Soft Ghost, Bashfulness, Mute!Reader, Ghost knows Sign Language, Possible OOC Ghost (but I try to remain as faithful as possible), Nervous König, Awkward Flirting, Maybe OOC König,

Warnings: Pushy Guys, Alcohol mentions,

Female!Reader // Romantic

|| Ghost

Ghost very seldom finds people attractive. What even rarer is that he acts on said attraction. He doesn't want to doom anyone to be attached to him, a phantom that death clings to like an ill-fitting coat.

This evening wasn't unlike all the others that happened after a particularly taxing mission. They bar wasn't particularly crowded or nice, filled with stale air and some distant rock music playing over crackly speakers. The others seem content in their conversation, sipping their drinks and laughing as they unwind. Ghost was sat, mask pulled up slightly as he took the last sip from his class of bourbon.

While he does his scan of the room, something catches his eye. Or, rather, someone.

He sees you, sitting off in one of the booths. He finds himself wondering how such a pretty young women is alone in a place like this. Ghost finds himself unable to take his eyes off of you and maybe that's a good thing because he's watching when a (clearly intoxicated) man stumbles over to the booth.

For a moment, Ghost is sure this must be the man you came with and starts to turn away. However, he manages to catch your uncomfortable expression as you try to turn the man away with some hand gestures, to no avail.

With a gruff, "be right back," that is majorly ignored by his companions, Ghost pushes away from the bar and stalks closer to the booth. As he gets closer, he starts to hear what the man is saying and finds himself more disgusted. He is shocked you haven't cursed the man out and slapped him across the face for your trouble.

He clamps one of his hands down onto the (much smaller) man's shoulder, immediately causing him to freeze and glance over his shoulder. "Get lost," Ghost's dark tone reaches even this drunkards rationality causing him to scoff and stumble off.

Upon his departure, Ghost looks back at you who has now begun staring wide eyed at him. He clears his throat, gesturing to the empty booth across from you, "This seat taken?"

You shake your head, gesturing outward to the seat as if to say, "be my guest."

Ghost nods, slumping down into the seat and trying not to make it obvious he was avoiding eye-contact, "I hope that wasn't presumptuous of me. You must've came here with someon'. 'm... Simon. By the way."

You smile, still staring openly at him before shaking your head, signing something with your hands.

Ghost freezes for a moment. He didn't expect this sudden hiccup. He is, for once, thankful for being friends with Roach which led him to learning some sign in order to communicate with him more efficiently.

"'m sorry, love, I didn't catch that," the term slips out before he can stop it, "I know some sign, but can you go a bit slower?"

You look at him in shock for a moment that he can understand before slowing down and signing, "I'm here alone." and tacking on a sign-spelling of your name. You take special care to slow down, carefully signing each word to make sure he catches it. You ask him what he's doing here.

"I think I should be askin' you that. This isn't really the place for pretty ladies," he takes a secret pride in the blush that spreads across your cheeks, "I'm here with some friends."

You glance towards the bar where the other members of 141 have started to calm down a bit before signing, "I was supposed to be meeting someone here. Looks like I've been stood up, though."

Ghost scoffs, "If he wanted to meet you in this place, he ain't worth your worries."

Your smile twitches, "Your probably right. It's not turning out all bad though"

This causes a small, amused scoff to come from his mouth, "I'm glad I can entertain."

Before he could say anything further, a slightly tipsy Soap calls from across the bar, "Ghost! You comin'?" The others have begun paying their tabs and collecting their jackets. Ghost makes a mental note to smack him upside the head for interrupting, nonetheless.

He sighs, "Duty calls." Ghost reluctantly slides, from the booth. "You should get outta' here too. Need someone to take you home?"

You smile and shake your head, "No. I could settle for your number, though."

Ghost's lips twitch into an almost-smile before he holds out his hand for your phone, "That can be arranged."

He looks so baby girl here

|| König

It wasn't often König found himself going out to bars with his colleagues. Mostly because he found himself getting nervous in crowded places and because it wasn't really acceptable to wear a sniperhood in public spaces.

But, with some urging from his recently-acquired friend Horangi, he found himself reluctantly agreeing. Instead of his normal hood, he put on a simple, black surgical mask to try and help with his anxiety. At least this bar wasn't anywhere near crowded.

He still felt incredibly awkward sitting hunched over in the too-small bar stool. The others seemed to be having a good time at least, all of them caught up in some sports game playing on the tv above the bar. König quickly took a sip of his drink, scanning across the room before his eyes landed on you, sitting quietly off to the side with a group of friends. He pauses, stunned by your smile for a moment before he turns away quickly. Despite his blush being mostly covered by his mask, Horangi notices somehow. "You should send her a drink." If his eyes weren't covered by sunglasses, he was sure the statement would have been accompanied by a wink.

König gulped, "I couldn't..."

Horangi landed a friendly pat on the bigger man's shoulder, "Sure you could. What's the worst that could happen?"

König can think of quite a few things that can go wrong. But even then, he can't get your smile out of his head. He slowly lifts his hand, calling the bartender over before asking for some pleasant, fruity drink to be sent to your table. To you.

When the waiter came to collect the drink to bring to the table, König made a point not to look in your direction. He could already feel the hot waves of embarrassment wash down his back. He briefly thought about bolting from the bar before he realized it was too late, glancing over his shoulder as you scan the bar. Your eyes meet for a moment before König quickly turns away.

He expects nothing to come from it, that you would just laugh about the occurrence with your friends before going about the rest of your night. He figures he's wrong when he hears light footsteps approaching him from behind. You set the drink that he sat you down before sliding into the bar stool next to him. König glaces up nervously.

"I'm sorry..." König can't keep the apology from coming out. You frown slightly and shake your head, signing something with your hands. König pauses, clenching and unclenching his fist around his glass, "Oh... I don't know that much English sign..."

You nod sympathetically, thinking for a moment before gesturing to yourself before slowly fingerspelling your name. König watches intently before nodding slowly, "My friends call me König." At you curious look he laughs softly, "It means King in German. It's a... long story." He didn't really want to get into why he got his callsign.

You smile, slowly signing something along the line of "thank you" before gesturing towards the drink.

König nods, resisting the urge to sheepishly rub at the back of his neck, "Your welcome... I didn't know if you would like it or not."

In response, you smile and take a sip of the drink.

He finds himself laughing softly, turning more openly towards you before saying, "I'm glad. I'm sorry for taking you away from your friends. Your just... Really pretty."

You laugh softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. You start to slowly sign something else but your friends call out to you. You both turn, seeing your friends had begun to collect their things. This causes you to frown slightly, which König can't help but find unreasonably cute, before you turn an apologetic look back to König. He waves his hands dismissivly, "No, no, I-It's alright! Go and join your friends."

You take the last sip of the drink he sent you before pulling the napkin you had been using as a coaster from beneath it. You reach across the bar and grab a nearby pen, quickly squibbling down your number onto the napkin before presenting it to König. He takes it carefully, staring astonished before shrinking into himself, trying to hide a rising blush, "Danke..."

You smile before winking back at him, moving towards the bartender to pay your tab before throwing one last look at König that says, "You better text me!"

König nods, carefully folding the napkin and sticking it into his pocket before letting out a deep sigh. He can't help the small smile the comes to his face when he thinks about talking to you again.

Thank you for reading! Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

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[cowpokeomens]

helloooo ~

could you please do a casual outing date with noah sebastian? anything from a simple lunch to some shopping just super fluffy and cute thank uuuu

Ask and ye shall receive! This is loosely based off of an experience I had a few weeks ago (The entranced window-gazing, not the almost-sugar daddy part, RIP me ig) Enjoy!

You had a long week. It seemed like your higher-ups gotten more demanding with each passing day. As if going to a shitty job wasn’t hard enough on its own, Noah was home from tour, too. You could drag yourself to work with the promise of a venti triple shot drink from Starbucks most days, but with his sleeping form next you in bed- warm, tattooed skin on display- the feat of getting up became nearly impossible. When the weekend finally rolled around, you embraced it with open arms, sleeping in until 11AM on Saturday. 

You awoke to the smell of coffee, stretching your arms and padding your way into the kitchen. You found Noah there, sweatpants slung low on his hips, swiping on his phone while music played softly from the TV in the living room. He glanced up upon your arrival. 

“Well good morning, gorgeous. I was starting to wonder where I was going to hide your body.” He flashed you a lopsided grin.

You returned the smile, going over to where the coffee pot was still set to warm. “You couldn’t get rid of me that easily, Sebastian. I’d haunt your ass.”

“Oh no! I hope the scary, sexy ghost doesn’t watch me in the shower!” Noah mock-cried, waving his hands in the air for effect. You giggled at his antics, adding creamer to your coffee as he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “What’re we doing today, buttercup?”

You thought about it for a moment. “Well, I need a new pair of shoes for work, supportive sole type shit-”

“Nope.” You were cut off by the man behind you. “No boring work shit today. We’re having fun.” 

“Fun?” You echoed, turning just enough to waggle your eyebrows at him. 

He rolled his eyes, snorting at you. “Not that kind of fun, you freak. Good, wholesome, Christian fun.”

“Ooh, are we gonna make out on the bus on the way to church camp?” You mocked him.

“I cannot stand you. Have I said that before? Because I can’t.” His actions betrayed his words as he leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, then the top of your head, then your shoulder again. 

“Then what is your definition of ‘good, wholesome, Christian fun,’ Sebastian?” You turned to face him fully, sipping from your mug. 

“I was thinking retail therapy. We could go to that shopping center you like so much, with the paper store that has all the tape and stuff.” He puffed his chest proudly for remembering it.

“The stationary store.” You pondered aloud. “I could get stickers.”

He nodded eagerly. “I’ll buy you so many fucking stickers, baby.”

You grinned up at him. “I’m sold. Let me brush my teeth and find udnerwear-”

“-Hey, no pressure from me-”

It was your turn to roll your eyes at him. “-And then we can head out.”

_________________________________________

A few hours later you found yourself in a shopping center somewhere in the northern section of your city. It was more of an outdoor mall, but you really only preferred a small corner of the sprawl. 

Noah walked beside you cheerfully, hand tightly clasped in yours. His other hand held a cute, pastel blue bag from the stationary store, where you had racked up quite the tab. Before you could get your card out, though, Noah was tapping his own against the machine. 

“You didn’t have to do that, babe.” You pouted, feeling guilty. 

He shrugged. “I’ve got that ‘Rockstar Boyfriend’ money now, baby, I can buy you stickers.”

You snorted at him. “Glad to hear that Jolly has been filing you guys’ taxes correctly.”

“Hey, I help, too.” He protested. 

“Mhm, no one can work the espresso machine for him quite like you, dear.” You mollified him. 

“I can’t believe I’m being treated this way, I have an ‘Alternative Press’ cover, y’know-”

He got quiet when he noticed you had stopped walking. He glanced at you, concerned, then followed your line of sight. 

You were gazing, open-mouthed, into the window of a purse store. You didn’t actually know anything about luxury brands- much less designer handbags- but you could recognize art when you saw it. 

It was black, probably genuine leather. A cross-body bag, pleasantly spacious without being large. Its silver rivets glinted at you in the midday sun, enticing you with their gleam. A thick, silver chain decorated the top, contrasting sharply with the clean cut of the long black handle. 

“What?” He asked at last. 

“Sorry.” You responded absently, still not looking away. 

He huffed a laugh. “Do you want to go inside?” 

“No.” Came your immediate response. 

“Babe, I know that look. That’s how you looked at me the first day I got back from tour. Now, I’m not so insecure as a man to let a purse threaten me, but if you start talking dirty to it-”

“Shut up, Noah.” You finally broke your stare to turn to him, giggling. “It’s just pretty is all.”

“‘Pretty?’” He repeated.

You nodded earnestly, already beginning to walk away. 

“Well hey, if it’s so ‘pretty,’ let’s go inside and get a closer look.” He tugged on your joined hands.

You grimaced, lowering your voice. “Baby, it’s probably like, a gajillion dollars-”

“Oh, I hope so. I just so happen to have a ‘Gajillion’ Monopoly dollar in my pocket. C’mon.” He tugged you once more, finally convincing you to follow.

The inside of the store was freakishly white. White walls, white display podiums, white chairs. Who the fuck comes in here to sit? You wondered to yourself. There, in the field of white, was your black sheep in all its glory. Noah released your hand as you glided over to it, sighing dreamily. You didn’t see anything saying you had to keep your hands to yourself, and you couldn’t resist the urge to touch it. A hand came up to run a single finger along the rivets, bumping up and down at their protrusion. You gripped the side experimentally, loving the squish of the leather. You had never been a bag person; You used the same backpack for the entirety of college, purchased for $20 at Walmart. You had other bags, mostly to carry things from point A to point B, but this was different. This was- what did the fashion bloggers call their clothes? A piece. This was a piece, not just a purse. 

You were shaken out of your reverie by Noah walking over to you, peering at the bag curiously. “You ready?”

You let out a deep breath. It was absolutely a gajillion dollars, and you could not justify the expense. You turned to Noah, about to say an affirmative, when a new, large shopping bag caught your eye. 

You recognized the brand emblazoned across the bag as the same one from the window. Your eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Noah, what did you do?”

His grin was devilish. “Relax. It was actually only half a gajillion dollars, quite the steal if you ask me.”

You could feel yourself panicking. “What? No! Go give it back!” Your whisper was frantic. 

He was outwardly laughing at you now. “No.”

Your eyes widened further, incredulity coloring your tone. “No?”

He shook his head, leaning in close to you. “Nope.” Then, taking your hand in his, he happily walked back outside, ignoring the saleswoman’s call of “Come back again soon!”

You barely kept up with his long legs. “Noah, I do not need a gajillion dollar-”

“Half a gajillion, babe. Half.”

You huffed. “Whatever. I don’t need an expensive purse, it’s not fair for you to be spending that kind of money on me when I can’t repay it-”

“I can think of a few ways you could repay me.” He cut you off again with a wink. 

“Noah.” You stopped walking. He could hear the change in your tone, stopping to turn to look at you. “I can’t- baby I really appreciate it but I can’t-”

“Hey.” He said softly, coming up to look into your eyes deeply. “Hey. This isn’t about owing me or anything. There’s no need for that between us.” You nodded, the movement small. “I see you busting your ass. I see you working hard. I can see that you’ve had a shitty couple of weeks. So if I have to go back and buy you all the gajillion dollar purses in that store, I will do it. If it will make you happy, I will personally see to it that you get every gajillion dollar purse manufactured on this continent.”

You couldn’t fight off the smile at his words, so sincere and sweet. He kissed your forehead for good measure, offering his hand out to you. 

“If it makes you feel better, you can buy lunch. The lady in the store talked me into getting the matching quarter-gajillion dollar wallet, too.”

Your jaw dropped. “Noah Sebastian-”

[gatitties]

Strange friendship

─ Kisaki & Hanma, Peh-yan & Pah-chin, Taiju & South, Shion & Mochizuki x fem!reader (platonic)

─ Summary: you have a curious duo as friends

─ Warnings: none

Kisaki & Hanma

─ Being friends with this pair means trouble, whether you get involved directly or indirectly, don't expect to have a quiet life like you've been having up to now.

─ At first Kisaki didn't like you, but Hanma found your attitude amusing, so the first few weeks after you started going out together there were only uncomfortable glances between you and him.

─ Why of all people decided to approach you? It was a mystery beyond that Hamna liked to tease you, you really had nothing to offer them, just your friendship and maybe your house to pass the time.

─ In any case, they liked having a person who wasn't involved with all their macabre plans, or at least not so involved in that world, they appreciated your disinterest sometimes.

─ You made fun of them a lot when you had more confidence because they acted like a married couple, sometimes you just stayed silent looking at them and letting your imagination do things.

"For the fifth time Hanma, we are not going to see Megamind"

"But it's your movie, why don't we see it?"

"Stop comparing me to that damn big head…"

"But you really are a mastermind!"

Kisaki pinched the bridge of his nose, tired of this stupid discussion about which movie to watch or not, the teenager got tired of Hanma's insistence and teasing, now noticing how quiet you had been all this time, his eyes met your lost look but at the same time fixed on both.

“My God… she's doing it again.

"Doing what?"

"She has that stupid look when she looks at us and sets us up as if we were boyfriends."

Hanma chuckled at his friend's words, snapping his fingers in front of you to snap you out of your inner trance, you blinked a few times realizing that now they were both looking at you.

"Why are you standing there? Haven't you picked the movie yet?"

"Choose, I'm not going to see Megamind."

Kisaki sat on the sofa, making the other boy laugh more openly for having upset his friend, you shrugged taking a look at the options you had to see, since they let you choose…

"Treasure planet? We've seen that one before, plus you only see it because you like the protagonist."

"That's the point Hanma, while I fangirl for a non-existent character you two can kiss and all that stuff, I won't pay attention to you."

Peh-yan & Pah-chin

─ Being friends with these two is… curious to say the least, they are the dumbest guys but the best duo you can find.

─ You started going out with them more because their grades were crap and your teacher had asked you to help them since you had decent grades.

─ Honestly they were a 0/10 when it came to studying because they didn't add half a neuron between the two of them and they made you lose patience, but in terms of friendship they were a round 10/10.

─ Lots of random outings at any time, even in the middle of the night, just grab a jacket, they'll put you on their motorcycles for a ride or whatever you want.

─ Scary dog ​​privilege.

─ They have you put on an altar for the simple fact of giving some coherence to their stupid actions.

─ Without a doubt the best huggers, they also really like your hugs.

You rubbed your tired eyes, the letters from your textbook taxing your vision even when you closed your eyes, you shouldn't be studying so late at night but it was an important exam and you didn't study as much as you'd like. You decided to take a little break, drink some water, maybe get some snacks but a tapping on your window threw your plans overboard.

"It's too late for both of you to be here" you murmured, opening the window "You should be resting for the exam tomorrow."

"There's an exam tomorrow!?"

You silenced Peh-yan for his scream, he apologized in a whisper and Pah-chin simply shrugged raising his hand for you to take.

“We weren't going to pass anyway."

You rolled your eyes at your friend's carefree laughter, you bit your lip thinking for a moment, a break wouldn't hurt you right now, looking at your notes for the last time, you accepted the hand that Pah offered you.

"A quick getaway and you leave me at home, okay?"

"Deal, come on, there's a 24 store near here, let's have a race Pah-chin!"

"Prepare to bite the dust Peh-yan."

You said as you got on Pah's bike that he accelerated taking advantage, you enjoyed the company of your two favorite idiots one of many nights.

Taiju & South

─ How these two are friends is already a mystery in itself, just think that they have some kind of alliance for an unknown purpose.

─ Since you got involved with them it was by accident, they helped you with some guys who broke into the store where you worked part-time while you were studying.

─ They were quite loyal to that convenience store so they saw you a lot working there, you were kind to them beyond the cordial treatment towards the customer of course.

─ Definitely scary dog ​​privilege.

─ They scare away almost all the customers that make you feel uncomfortable, you always scold them for that because they are still customers and you can't just kick them out.

─ No matter your height, you will look like a dwarf next to them and they will take advantage of that to make fun of you from time to time.

"Really, I'm going to get fired because of you, you can't just scare people like that."

"It was clear that he had bad intentions, you are so naive that you don't notice it."

South leaned against the counter, watching as you rolled your eyes and continued to do some of your homework. Taiju tossed some money to your side, nibbling on the snack he had chosen, joining the conversation.

"At least you should be grateful, we are acting as bouncers for free."

You pursed your lips, raising an eyebrow looking at the two with a blank expression, you closed your books, letting out a sigh.

"Sure, isn't it because you just like to intimidate people?"

They both looked at you with an innocent smile, even seeming offended by your comment, as if you hadn't seen them break the nose of a guy who accidentally scared you because you were distracted putting up some shelves.

"Honestly I still don't understand how you don't get away from us."

South looked at you out of the corner of his eye, noticing how you adopted a pensive pose, you gave them one last look when you saw that your coworker arrived to change the shift, before going to the back of the premises to change, you answered.

"You have only helped me up to this point, why should I stay away from my friends?"

My bois don't have gifs yet :'(

Shion & Mochizuki

─ You broke your leg and put you in the same hospital room where they were after receiving a beating.

─ Even if they didn't want to, there was nothing else to do there to pass the time so the three of you found yourselves talking a lot.

─ They found your presence pleasant and you liked listening to them talk about their little battles.

─ So you all shared phone numbers and you usually go out from time to time, as long as they're not busy with some gang shit.

─ They try not to get you into those problems because they wouldn't like to mix you with that kind of people, despite the fact that both are aggressive there are people worse than them with whom they don't want you to get involved.

─ Many memes and spam in the group chat.

─ In general, they are a good duo of friends who can cheer you up on a bad day.

You were wallowing in your own misery seeing how many things you had to do today, from school work to chores that your mother had asked you to do, you ended up mentally and physically exhausted. You looked at your phone when you heard the 'ping' coming from it, smiling a little when you saw the message.

BROken bones trio

[Mochi☺] Yo

[Mochi☺] Shion and i had thought about going out this afternoon, getting some snacks or going to the arcade

[You]danm… i'm too tired, maybe another day?

[Shiuun] don't be a lazy bitch

[Shiuun] it's been a long time since we went out together

[You]you little shit-

[You]i can't move a single muscle, why don't we spend the afternoon at my house?

[You]i rented a new fighting game btw

[Shiuun] now we're understanding each other!

[Mochi☺] 10 min, is there anything you need? we're going through a store before

[You] nah but tnks, my father made some sandwiches before <33

You left your cell phone, tidying up your room a bit and placing the console controls to be able to play, the boys didn't take long to arrive and offer you their company and their anger for losing against you, now Shion had to buy you a new controller for throwing it against the wall.

"I don't understand how you can beat us so easily."

Mochi frowned putting the remote on the floor after you kicked his ass again, you shrugged turning off the TV, throwing yourself on your bed to make yourself more comfortable.

"I play most of the time, it's normal that I beat you, it's like if I started fighting with you in real life, I would lose immediately."

"Yeah, definitely you couldn't with any of us even with years of practice in some martial art."

You rolled your eyes at Madarame's words, throwing a cushion at him, a big mistake on your part because it was the antecedent of a pillow fight from which you didn't come out well, two against one was not fair but for them you deserved it for ridiculing them in the video game.

[elementary-my-dear-daddy]

Earning Your Keep

Analogical (Virgil & Logan)

This story will be a series for the sugar daddy idea i've had running around in my head for some time now lmao. I really hope you guys like it since I enjoy writing it :)

Read it on AO3!

Virgil likes to take care of those he holds close, and maybe also a stranger that offered him a ride home.

Virgil was never rich. His family was big and his parents couldn’t make very many ends meet for most of his life, leading him to work his way through school. Once he graduated with a bachelors in psychology, he picked up two jobs to start paying off his loans, one in retail which drove his mental health into the ground, and the other as a behavioral health tech at a rehab center, which only had night-shift positions open and kept him up all night. He was paid and treated like shit, and on the cusp of breaking down when he got extremely lucky. For his 27th birthday he got the usual card with a cheesy message from his grandparents, but instead of the typical twenty bucks or a gift card, he found a lottery ticket sitting neatly inside. He didn’t think much of it, handing it over to the convenience store clerk when he was picking up an energy drink before his next shift.

“I don’t think this is worth anything, but if it has anything on it can I just use it to pay for this?” Virgil put his drink on the counter while the clerk scanned the ticket.

“Woah, woah. Oh my god.” 

“What?”

“Dude, you just won.”

“Huh?” Virgil knit his brow in confusion. He glanced over at the cashier’s screen, noticing the rather large number it displayed.

“Yeah, you won the jackpot! It’s over like 200 million! Holy shit! Here, sign it and take it to a lawyer!” The person handed him back the slip of paper and a pen. Virgil’s brain had short-circuited, causing him to just follow instructions. He didn’t really understand what was happening, so he just took the ticket back and walked out and back to his car, driving straight home and immediately typing ‘what to do if you win the lottery’ into his computer.

A bunch of results came up saying a bunch of stuff- tax experts, lawyers, and a bunch of steps that caused Virgil to lay down on his bed and rock back and forth for a little while. He didn’t believe this was happening to him. Maybe it wasn’t real? This was just a nightmare right? A really good bad nightmare.

All the things he saw online said not to tell anyone, but he couldn’t just sit there not making a decision. He picked up the phone and dialed the only person he knew who could possibly help him out.

~~~~~~~~~~

“You what ?” Janus’ voice hissed through the speakers on Virgil's phone, “Is this some weird joke, because it isn’t landing well.”

“No, no, I promise it's real, I-I checked and the numbers match up and I verified it at the gas station and, and-”

“Virgil, breathe. Calm down. I’m coming over so we can talk. I’ll help you get this figured out, and make sure you aren’t having delusions of grandeur.” Janus sighed, “I’ll be there in 10.”

Janus was over shortly, Virgil working with him to figure out the next course of action. Everything was going so fast. The next day Janus helped him set up meetings and accounts, and get lawyers and a budget going. The week flew by in between the contracts and calls. Even the next few months seemed to go by in a blur of bureaucratic processes. 

The first thing he did was set his parents up with a decent place to live and help them with their debts and medical bills. He did the same for himself, getting his student loans paid off finally and allowing himself to move into a spacey yet cozy penthouse. He quit both his jobs, but tried to end on a good note with his boss at the clinic in case he did ever want to go back. He was, probably for the first time in his life, comfortable.

~~~~~~~~~~

Time kept passing and Virgil had to now figure out what he wanted to spend his time on. He’d picked up his passion for music again now that he could afford nice equipment, but never had the intent to go anywhere with it. He looked into some online classes he could take, just for fun and to keep his mind stimulated. He even worked with Janus and some of his lawyers to start a charity for helping disabled students with loans that didn’t have the luck that he had. That was as close to a job as he had, once they had an office set up he made a regular schedule to help sort things out with it.

The routine he made helped him adjust to his new life. Getting up, going to the office, processing applications, working on his classes and playing music. He didn’t really spend his money anymore beyond his needs. Nothing fancy brought him much happiness. He didn’t host parties or have many friends that hung out with him before he became well off. He’d tried to go on a few dates, but the people he’d seen either knew him from the news when he originally won or they’d act disinterested until he brought up his money. The one time he actually thought he’d found someone he was interested in, the guy had thrown a fit that he wanted to end their 3rd date early to not have a panic attack.

They went to a planetarium, which for the most part Virgil enjoyed, but the segment about how small of a spec the earth was in the grand scheme of the universe triggered the existentialist anxiety of dying alone and not mattering. He had to run out and go calm down, but that proved difficult with his date shouting.

“Do you know how fucking rude it is to just run out on your date? I had to pay for these tickets, you know, and they aren’t cheap!”

“I-I know, i’m sorry, I can, um, here I’ll pay you back-” Virgil started to reach for his wallet.

“Whatever, it’s fine, let’s just see if they’ll let us back in, cmon.” The guy tugged at Virgil’s arm.

“Um…Actually I was wondering if…s-sorry uh, could- could we just go home?”

“What, are you not having a nice night? You could at least not waste my time, you know.” 

“I know, I'm really sorry, we should- maybe, uh… you can go and I’ll just head home and call an uber-”

“Ugh are you serious?” His date frowned, “You know what? Just go, I don’t wanna deal with this anymore. Don’t call me again, we’re done.” 

He watched his date head back into the planetarium and sighed, resigning himself to a bench outside to shake off the rejection. He shivered as a spike of anxiety hit him. He had to count his breaths, but it wasn’t working. He was gonna end up alone and live a completely inconsequential life that had no impact whatsoever and-

“Are you alright?”

Virgil looked over at a man a few feet away from him. He stood tall, sporting glasses and a polo with the logo of the planetarium. Virgil didn’t couldn’t quite make out the name on the man’s name tag through his watery eyes. Oh shit, was he crying? No no no this couldn’t happen in public, he was a grown man crying in public-

“Oh, apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just thought I should intervene.” The man looked at Virgil with concern, “May I sit?”

Virgil nodded, easing slightly as he did. He took a shaky breath and wiped away his tears, “I-I’m so-sor-ry. I could-n’t stay in there. S-sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize, take as much time as you need to gather yourself.” He spoke calmly. His tone comforted Virgil enough to steady his breathing and collect his thoughts.

“I’m…I’m good. Sorry.” Virgil sighed, “Just had a shitty date.”

The man frowned, “I see. Was he your ride home?”

Virgil nodded, “Figured I’d just get a cab or something.”

“Don’t waste your money, my shift just ended. If you’re comfortable with it I’d be happy to offer you a way home.”

“No no I can’t, I mean- It’s fine it’s not like money’s the issue I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“After he just left you?” 

Virgil looked towards the doors of the planetarium. He slumped his shoulders in resignation, “I guess you’re right.”

“I don’t mean to intrude on your personal affairs, but he is not worth your time if he does not respect your boundaries, and I don’t feel comfortable leaving you in a potentially unsafe environment. I would feel much more assured if I knew you returned home unharmed.”

“Fuck it, ok.” Virgil sighed. He looked over at the man and was able to see him a little more clearly. His name tag attached to a Dr. Who lanyard read Logan in bold font. He looked rather lanky and had bags under his eyes comparable to Virgil’s own.

“Would you like another minute to calm down or would you like to walk with me to my car now? I don’t mind waiting.”

“Uh, no, we can go now. Th-thank you, um, Logan.” Virgil offered a half smile.

“Of course, uh…”

“Virgil.”

“Virgil.” The man- Logan, stood up and motioned for the other to follow him.

Virgil stood and accompanied him to the car. It wasn’t the fanciest thing in the world, far from it. It looked like one of the windows had been punched out and was covered with cardboard and duct tape. It looked like an older car, and when they got in Logan had to start the engine a few times before it actually got running. 

“Please excuse the state of my car,” Logan said pulling his seatbelt on, “I’d fix the window on my own if I could but I’ve been too busy to do so. Here, do you mind putting your address in so I can get directions?”

Logan handed Virgil his phone, the other quickly inputting the info and handing it back. Virgil fastened his own seatbelt as they drove out of the parking lot.

“So, you work at the planetarium?”

“My shirt indicates so.”

“Right.” Virgil nodded, “What started that?”

“I needed a part-time job to work during nights while I attended college. I studied astronomy and a professor recommended applying for the position. The job just stuck after I graduated.” 

“That sounds pretty cool. You get to go to all those shows, right?”

“No, I get to sit in the ticket booth.” 

“Oh.” Virgil looked out the window as they drove, “I didn’t realize.”

“It's alright,” Logan said, shrugging, “I’ve seen them all anyway, when I had more free time.”

“You can’t take a day off?”

Logan’s lips pursed, “Not really. I work two other jobs.”

They both spent the rest of the ride in silence until the car approached the area where Virgil lived.

“You…live over here?” Logan questioned, looking around at the tall, well-kept buildings of the city.

“Um, yeah. I guess.” Virgil sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, “I moved here a few months ago. Doesn’t feel like it though.”

Logan hummed in acknowledgement, still looking around at how different this place seemed compared to where he lived. He pulled up to a decorative building with too many stories to count from his view. He parked the car and turned to Virgil.

“Thank you for allowing me to take you home. I’m sorry you had a rough night but hopefully you’ll find someone else that will accommodate your needs appropriately.” Logan offered a smile.

Virgil returned it, before clumsily reaching to take off his seatbelt and pull out his wallet, “Uh, here.”

He offered a wad of cash to Logan, who in return pushed it back, “No, please don’t worry about covering gas. It isn’t far from my-”

“Take it. Get your window fixed too. And if you need anything else just, um, give me a call or something. Thanks again, Logan.” Virgil said, getting out of the car and shutting the door.

Logan watched him greet the doorman (his building had a doorman?) and head to his apartment, before staring down at the cash. It added up to about $350, plus Virgil's business card. He blinked and debated trying to go after him, but decided he wouldn’t be able to find him since he didn’t know which apartment was his. He pulled out his own wallet and stuffed the cash inside. The card Virgil had given him had his name and number, along with the name of a charity Logan heard the name of a few times from the news. This was too much to process, so Logan just put the card in with the cash and drove home. That was a problem for someone much more well rested.

~~~~~~~~~~

Virgil flopped down on his bed as soon as he got home. He pulled out his phone and immediately blocked his date’s number, writing him off as just another insensitive asshole trying to take advantage of him. He let his mind relax in the safety of his home and tried to just forget about tonight. Except Logan. He couldn’t get him out of his mind.

Working two jobs had Virgil on the verge of a panic attack almost every night, he couldn’t imagine working three like Logan had. And how long had he been driving that car? Wasn’t it dangerous to drive when your engine doesn’t turn over and you don’t have a window? Those bags under his eyes, was he not sleeping well? Was the money he gave him enough to cover everything? 

Virgil exhaled through his nose and flipped onto his back. These were morning problems. Or at least wake up at 3 am and worry about life problems. He glanced at his clock- 10:30. Definitely something to deal with tomorrow.

[musclesaber]

Chest Cologne Chapter 2: The Sizemologist

[Story Gallery] [First Part] [Last Part]

After locking down his date with Patrick, Jacob turns to his old friend Sam for some help in the size department.

The next day, Jacob finished work and immediately headed to Sam’s shop. He parked his car and walked into the tiny store. The store is completely empty when Jacob entered and saw no one. On the inside, the shelves were cluttered with various drawers of herbs and spices. There were bottles and boxes that had things like “Back Pain Relief” or “Quick Energy Boost” written on them. Jacob continued walking around the store until he saw his old friend.

“Jacob!” The tall man practically ran over to Jacob to give him a hug.

 “Sammy! How’ve you been?” Jacob hugged Sam back and looked at him.

 “I’ve been great! I’m running the store all by myself now since my parents retired. I used to just run the business side of things, but now I do everything from the supply to the taxes to the stocking to the other stuff,” said Sam as he winked at Jacob.

 “Yeah, about that other stuff,” Jacob released their embrace. “I remember in college you gave Max that one thing to help him out with his boyfriend’s problem in the bedroom. Could you do something like that for me?” Sam looked at Jacob puzzled.

 “You knew about that?” asked Sam.

 “Of course I did. We all did. Max was always complaining about how his boyfriend AJ could never perform well in the bedroom. After winter break, he said you gave him something that solved his problem. Then I remember every time Max had seen AJ the day before, he was walking funny.” Sam laughed remembering what he had given Max.

 “HAHAHA! I had forgotten about that. Yes, I did help Max out a bit. Here, let’s go to the back where we can discuss the other side of the store.” Sam turned around and lead Jacob through a door into another room. This room was significantly smaller, but it was packed to the brim with books as well as drawers and cabinets.

 “What is all of this?” asked Jacob.

 “So Max came to me knowing my parents ran a store that helped people out with problems with their body through nontraditional medicine. We tend to work with people who are having chronic pains, deficient energy, depression, all kinds of stuff. But Max knew we would sometimes help with fertility. So I showed him what I had in stock to help with his boyfriend’s tiny dick and from what I hear, it worked like a charm. AJ’s cock grew from a measly 3 inches to 10 inches.”

 “Wait, you grew his cock?” asked Jacob. “How is that even possible?”

 “Alchemy my good man. With a little bit of magic sprinkled in for good measure.” Sam grabbed a book off of the shelf and started turning through the pages. “My father has a small bit of sorcery in his blood line. We can’t shoot fire balls or create portals with our magic wands, but we can infuse our magics into our items.” Sam stopped on a page and turned it so Jacob could see.

 ‘Eggplant Elixir: Drink this potion to enhance a male’s genitalia. Sizes may vary based on original size. Do not take any more than the recommended dosage from your sizemologist.

Side effects may include: Increased libido, an addiction to masturbation, surprise boners, an increase in body hair, and a loss in taste.’

             “Sam, what’s a sizemologist?” asked Jacob as he took the book and read more.

 “It’s what I am. I help people out with their size problems. Whether it’s too much or lack thereof. The ladder being more popular,” said Sam as he walked behind the counter in the room. “So old friend, what can I do for you?”

 “I need help with this date I’m going on later today. The guy I’m seeing is a total hunk and built like a brick house. Absolutely huge,” said Jacob as he swooned over Patrick.

 “That’s why we were such good friends in college. We were both huge size queens,” said Sam with a smile. “So what do you want to do? Make him bigger? Make yourself bigger? God forbid make him smaller?”

 “Make me bigger please. I was looking through his Insta and all of the guys he’s dated are walking walls of muscle.”

 “Well you’re no slouch in that department. You’ve certainly packed on more size since college,” said Sam pointing out the way Jacob’s shirt clung to his body.

 “Thanks Sam, but I’m talking bodybuilder big.”

 “Oh…That’s not you, my friend. I think I can help.” Sam swiveled around and started rummaging through drawers of and shelves of bottles and boxes. “Ooo here it is! Size Spice! Made to grow men huge without them even knowing! Just sprinkle it into their food and BOOM they’ll be giants in a minute.” Sam puts down a tiny little dime bag of white powder.

 “Um Sam, I don’t want to tell you how to do your job, but that looks exactly like a bump of coke,” said Jacob as he eyeballed the product.

 “It’s not cocaine. Calm down. Everything here is FDA approved. Mostly. But definitely not illegal substances.”

 “Then it’s perfect! I’ll take it!”

 “Great! That’ll be $500,” said Sam with a flat tone.

 “$500!?!?! Isn’t there some friends and family discount that I could be a part of?”

 “You are. The normal price is $1,000.”

 “$1,000?!?! Why is this stuff so expensive?!?!”

 “It’s a popular item. Most people love the idea of getting huge with just a sprinkle of salt. And if I’m being completely honest, a large container of these got shipped out of here by mistake and it’s not the easiest product to make.”

 “Shipped out? I thought you were just a local store?”

 “I normally am, but sometimes if I’m strapped for cash, I’ll sell my goods grocery stores if there have been things sitting on the shelves for a long time. I however got a shipment of international spices miss labeled and sent off these instead. Hence why it’s in a small baggy so I don’t confuse myself.” Jacob groaned as Sam told his story.

 “That’s too steep for me. I can’t pay that much. Do you have anything in the realm of maybe 100 bucks?” Sam put the bag away and turned back around to continue rifling through cabinets.

 “Hmm the date is tonight, right?”

 “Yeah. A cute Valentine’s Day date.”

 “Well, I have some stuff here that effects overall size, but it takes 12 hours to start seeing results,” said Sam turning around with a box of herbs.

 “The dates in an hour. What else you got?” Sam turned back around and opened up more drawers.

 “If you’re not gonna pay top dollar, I don’t have anything in that price range that will be fast acting and can affect the entire body,” said Sam as he turned back to Jacob.

 “What about on specific body part? Could I just grow that?”

 “Depends, which body part?” Jacob pondered for a moment. He looked down at himself. Looking over all of his muscles.

 “I think I’ll go with pecs.” They were by far the smallest muscle group on Jacob. Little to no definition in them and one of the things that Jacob consistently saw in all of the pictures Ryan had taken with his past lovers.

 “Let me see what I got.” Sam turned back around and started tearing through cabinets and drawers again. “Ah ha! I think I found something for you!” He turned back around holding a little perfume bottle. “Chest cologne. It will enhance your chest after spraying it anywhere on yourself.”

 “That sounds great! How much?”

 “For you? $80. And I’ll even throw something special into the mix that make men go wild when they smell it.” Sam pulled out a few vials along with an eye dropper and abeaker. “So, some quick things to know about this. Chest cologne is not meant to be worn often. The effects are not permanent if taken correctly. Your chest will slowly get smaller after the article of clothing that has been sprayed on it has been removed. DO NOT PUT ON YOUR SKIN! It is very hard to wash off and the effects of the spray could be long lasting.”

 “What’s so bad about having permanently bigger pecs?” asked Jacob.

 “The problem isn’t permanently bigger pecs. The problem is permanently growing pecs. The effects of the spray will stack on itself if you inhale it for a long period of time.” Sam kept mixing up liquids and shook them as he talked.

 “What if I spray it and then I am taking off my shirt soon after spraying it?”

 “No need to worry. You’ll grow until the effects have gotten out of your system. It’s just when you’re constantly smelling it on your body, it will never know it’s no longer supposed to grow, and it should shrink back down.”

 “How long will it take to shrink back down?”

 “Depends. Could be a few hours, days, weeks. It all depends on your body and how big you get your pecs.” Sam took a small drop out of the beaker he had and dropped it into the cologne bottle. “And you’re all set. Any more questions you have for me?”

 “Will my date be affected by the smell?”

 “Normally on a cologne, everyone in your immediate vicinity would smell it. However, with my magic in place, unless he puts his head up against your shirt and deeply inhales, he won’t be affected by the chest growth. But the libido enhancer, that I made so that anyone within a 10-foot radius will smell that on you.” Sam handed Jacob the bottle and Jacob handed him back some cash.

 “Thanks man, you’re a life saver. I owe you big time!” said Jacob as he began to make his way out of the store.

 “Of course man. No problem at all. If anything feels off about, you’ve got my number. And maybe after this date, we can catch up over coffee?” asked Sam as he followed Jacob to the door.

 “I’d love to. It was great to see you Sam. Wish me luck,” said Jacob as he walked out the door.

 “Good luck,” said Sam with a smile. As Jacob left, another customer walked in through the door. “Hi sir, how can I help you?” asked Sam.

 “Yeah, I bought this smoothie from a store the other day and it made my…um…uh…penis grow huge. And every time I get excited, I grow too big again. I heard that this was the place that could help out with those kinds of problems” Sam was listening to the man tell his story when his eyes shot open.

 “One moment sir!” Sam dashed out the door to see Jacob walking away. “Jacob! Don’t use more than one spray!”

 “What?!?”

 “Don’t use more than one spray! You might grow too big!”

 “What?!?”

 “Umm sir, I think I’ve got a problem in here. Oh fuck. Not again.” The customer inside started to moan as the bulge in his pants started getting much more pronounce.

 “Fuck. I’ll text you later!” Sam ran back inside to deal with the man with the growing boner. Jacob looked back and saw Sam walk back in. He just shrugged his shoulders and kept on walking.

[pompous-puffed-up-penguin]

Comfy Cozy (Farrell!Penguin/GN!Reader)

Just a small little thing I came up with on the spot. You stay over at Ozzy’s place and steal his bath robe

CW: literally just fluff, I don’t think there’s anything offensive here

Word count: 931

It's not that you didn't want to walk home in the rain. You looked at the forecast today and remembered your umbrella, and it wasn't as if it was far from the lounge to your apartment. But as soon as your boss noticed the first drops on the window, he wouldn't hear any of your excuses.

"I'm not having you go out and catching a cold," he said. "You're staying with me for the night, and that's that."

Well, you weren't going to argue with your boyfriend. He was too proud to admit it, but he took any excuse he could to get you to stay with him (not that you ever complained). And besides, he had the penthouse of your dreams, with everything looking like it would take you ten years to pay for. Just stepping inside, you felt like you had to pay a tax for dirtying the floor. It was a wonder that anyone like Oswald Cobblepot would let you breathe in here, let alone spend time in here.

And even when he had to suddenly run out for 'business' emergencies, he would always say that you were free to do whatever you wanted in here. It took you a while to get used to the idea when you first started dating. Actually, you still think it's a miracle he noticed you in the first place. The only thing you had in the foreseeable future was polishing glasses and pouring drinks. But now you had one of the most powerful men in Gotham spoiling you and keeping you company on cold nights.

Unfortunately, you were left alone tonight, since Oz had to meet with a client at the last minute ("Got to do everything myself," he mumbled). And as always, he reminded you that you were free to anything in his home. He promised he would be with you before midnight.

Well, as long as you were here, you might as well get cleaned up. Knowing him, he was going to be stressed and wound-up tight as a spring. And what better way to help him relax than with some TLC? That's what you were thinking as you grab a towel and dry yourself off after stepping out of the shower (of course he had your favorite shampoo and body wash ready. Why wouldn't he?). Unfortunately, you didn't think to bring anything to help you accomplish your goal. You would just have to settle for your usual PJ's.

But then you spot something hanging on the bathroom door. A deep violet robe, silky smooth, looking oh-so-tempting. You reach out and feel the fabric in your fingers.

Well, Oswald did say you were free to have anything in his home. Surely, he won't mind if you borrow his robe for a bit. You let your towel fall to the floor and wrap the robe around yourself. It feels so nice on your skin, like a blanket fresh from the dryer. And as you breathe in, you can smell a faint aroma lingering on it. His musk. You can't help but smile as you bring a sleeve closer to your nose to savor it. It was like he was giving you a hug right now. If you weren't careful, you might accidentally steal this robe and bring it home with you.

Comfortable and relaxed, you make your way to the bedroom and lay down, sighing as you listen to the rain drops lightly hit the window. Resting your head and staring up at the ceiling, you wonder how long Oz's business will really last. He's had too many all-nighters to count. You really hope it won't be one of those again. The fatigue was getting more and more noticeable by the day. Maybe it has something to do with that guy running around in a bat costume you've heard about? You've overheard some stuff about him recently, especially on the news. Just another guy looking for attention, you think. It's hard to get that in Gotham when everyone else is reaching for some. But it's also hard to ignore how anxious it's making everyone.

You close your eyes, concentrating on the rain to empty your thoughts. You're just going to give them a rest, you think. And when Oz comes home, you'll be wide awake and ready for him. Ready for...something. Eh, you can improvise. --- Lingering on the edge of sleep and wakefulness, you shudder as something rough brushes against your cheek. You swat it away, curling up further into Oz's robe, your robe. Stupid bug, interrupting your dream. It was so nice, too. Oz just came home, and he was sitting on the bed next to you. Even now, you could feel his presence, and his smile as he looked down at you.

"I think you got something that belongs to me, sweetheart."

Wow, this dream feels so real. You can even hear his voice, along with a gentle hand on your back. Smelling the cologne in the robe makes you feel like you're in heaven.

"Comfy?"

Yeah, you mumble, it feels really nice.

You hear a soft chuckle. "If you want one of your own, you can just ask." You know he could, but then it wouldn't have that wonderful smell. And it wouldn't be warm like he is.

"Hm. Alright, you make a good argument."

You know you do. Now is he going to sit there and stare or is he going to get in bed with you?

Oz laughs. "Okay, alright, just let me get out of this suit and I'll be right there."

[henriiiii-1001]

( John Sparks and George Banks making Six feel like he's sane again ) *invading church* G : DUDE! YOU GOTTA HELP, JOHN GOT STUCK IN THE FENCE! S : What? G : JOHN GOT STUCK IN THE FENCE! S : *turns to Luci* L : *puts two fingers up and disappears* S : .... Fine, I'll help

-le epic timeskip-

Six, seeing John's situation : Oh okay J : You two gonna help me or not?! S : How tf did you get your neck stuck in the fence anyway? J : It was a dare by my mother S : ....

-Six manages to get John's neck out of the fence but now they're gonna make the rest of his night unbearable-

J : So what's your name btw? Six, thinking of a fake name in 2 seconds : Uh.. Sullivan! G : Like that story of the big ass man who got stuck in the island with the miniature tiny people? S : Is- Is that supposed to be an insult? J : Definitely a compliment, usually he says much worse than just that S : Huh Oh and btw, the man's name was Gulliver, not Sullivan G : .... I'm hopeless

-12 seconds later-

J : Oh wait, we forgot to ask, what's your age? S : Why? G : We need to know if you're the grandson or the grandpa S : OK I'm.... 29! J : Booo that number sucks! G : You're headed to retirement already lmao S : :(

-21 seconds to later- S : Sooo, are you best friends or just regular friends? Cause you seem pretty close John, turning around to G : Ten seconds before midnight- Hi George, let's be friends *George has chosen violence* J : OW! WTF DUDE?! Help, he's trying to shove his fist in my nose! G : I'm sorry! J : What are you sorry about?! G : That I'm almost 19 and your birthday was only 2 months ago! J : You hate me because my birthday is on November?! G : Yes! Because I hate every month that don't include vacations! S : Oh good lord- Guys, stop that! Stop that! -le epic timeskip-

S : Okay, now that you two have ceased your crazy fight, you apologize! :D J : ... G : ... I don't know S : Are you afraid of being vulnerable? G : I only have one fear S : And that is...? G : That the police will find out what I did in 1988 S : Uhh.... J : He's a wanted criminal in 40 states

-le epic timeskip part 2-

G : Jo is immune to alternates because his house is a labyrinth. Just his living room has 1 million boxes everywhere- J : I'm moving! G : The alternates just walk into his house and are like "what the fuck is this place?" J : I'm moving, man! It's not my fault! S : Why Mandela of all counties? J : So me and my wife can perform tax evasion and not have a police constantly hunting us down S : ... G : Once he finally gets a woman to like him lol Six, mentally : (This some big brain moment)

-1 hour later-

Six : John, I'm getting really worried cause all you bought at the convenience store was like, two bags full of energy drinks and a weeks worth of potato chips J : It's my diet G : In case you couldn't tell, he's addicted to unhealthy shit J : To me every person above 20 is an asshole, so I'm on my slow but steady trip of dying of a heart attack before my 20th birthday S : That's- That's your goal in life? J : Yep! Maybe- Maybe when I go down to hell, Satan will name me "stupid of the year" S : Yeah, I'll call him and ask him to do that J : Will I get a bronze star for 'stupid of the year'? G : You're gonna get the fucking golden star J : That's my fucking dream S : He's gonna put a golden star sticker right in the middle of your forehead that says "stoopid of the year" J : Yay! :D

(silliness taking over me be like)

no idea who these guys are but this is cute! not sure if six would help a bunch of teenagers out of the blue (esp if they're trying to break into st gabriel's. if that's where they are) , but one can dream

[lazypanartist]

And here we go! Your special mystery blind box. Hope you enjoy!

-📝 nonnie

--

"You- you can't use FIREBALL!! I'm in the middle of the fray!" The half-orc paladin cried out, swinging her battle axe. The blade connected with a ravenous furry shape that, had you asked her earlier, Bearbones would have called absolutely adorable. Now the massive swarm was growing taxing.

"Then get out of the way!" snapped Arous, the halfling holding her spell while kicking a creature away. "We're getting swamped by these wolpertingers, and they're a little too BITEY for my taste!"

"I...Rolled an 18, the AC seems to be twelve- Okay I hit, and I use my canon on the group over to the left. Eat zap cannon, you over grown rats!!" The artificer bellowed.

"Alright, listen. I'm just saying, maybe we shouldn't be doing this quest to free the Great Fairy of Rot, y'know?" The Aarakokra bard was back to back with his Kenku sibling that was using him as hidden cover to get extra damage in. "What say you, Nitpick?"

A series of affirming chirps and clicks meshed with broken words stolen from other conversations the kenku heard. "Aztiel is RIGHT...but Rot Fairy Siofra is...Very Pretty. Have to help her."

"Oh jeez, Mikey's crushing on the rot fairy." Leo whined, head in his hands. You grinned, giggling at the revelation that rolled through the group. Battle now on standby, Donatello glared over at his twin.

"You idiot! Without Siofra, the other Great Seasons Fairies are going to ruin the world. Rot is needed for new life and all that."

"Wow. Nitpick likes Siofra huh?" Raph leaned over, looking at what Michelangelo was doodling. The eldest huffed in amusement, staring at a rough sketch of the kenku fantasizing over a 12 foot nature goddess.

"Maybe! I think Nitpick just likes Big Tall Misunderstood Lady."

April shrugged. "Honestly you could pick worse."

You got up, chuckling to yourself as you went to the kitchen. You bagged another, your DMing prowess of making your players becaome smitten with NPC knew no end. Well, correction. It knew one.

You hadn't managed to get Leonardo yet. And, for the life of you, you couldn't figure out why.

You got Raphael with his character's rival, a Firbolg ranger who she shared one good, deep conversation with and it shook his character's faith somewhat while showing the other wasn't so bad a guy. April's sorcerer already had a girlfriend, and you made sure she got to interact and write to her frequently, and the sorcerer was planning on proposing. Michelangelo was fawning over Siofra, his character bonding with her despite being trapped in a crystal prison by being a great listener. Donatello's was the tricksiest one by far, his high elf character becoming smitten with a kobold thief who, as a shock to you, his character saw all the stealing of his machines as flirting, and now he made trinkets for them to purposely steal as a kind of...courtship game.

But Leo? Nothing, no NPC, be it the handsome rival bard or the lich king, made him enamored.

"I'm grabbing drinks! Anyone want one?" You listened as a collection of of yeses called out and you nodded, already knowing who wanted what. A chair scraped across the floor and you heard footsteps follow.

"I'll help out."

"Thanks, Leo."

Humming, the two of you gathered up sodas and teas and coffees galore, nabbing some more pizza while on your impromptu snack break. You glanced over at the red eared slider. "May I ask a question?"

"Mh? Sure thing. What's up?" Leo adjusted the tails of his cobalt bandana before reaching for a sleeve of cookies.

"What's your type?"

Leonardo froze, sweat beading on his brow as he stared HARD into the cabinet. He swore there should be some cheez-its in here somewhere.

"My uh. Type?"

"Yeah! Do you like big muscles and massive pecs, small wet cat energy, cocky, calm and collected, regal, maybe something more chaotic...?"

Biting his lip, he looked over to you, noting you refused to look at him. Like you were planning something. Being sneaky.

...Oh! He knew what was happening.

He relaxed a bit, nodding to himself, before he quickly became red in the face and jittery.

Oh. He knew what was happening!!

The leader looked to the side, scratching the back of his head nervously. "Well, um. I have to say uh...I like...creative types. With big imaginations and a love for storytelling." Leonardo cleared his throat. "And uh, hopefully a fondness for my jokes and willing to put up with my charming personality."

You blinked at that. "So...artsy nerd with a high stupidity tolerance?" Damn what a character you'd have to make.

The turtle gaped at you, looking mildly offended. "Hey!"

You shrugged. "You're a bit of a peacock."

"Hey!!"

You snickered to yourself, grinning at your joke and Leonardo felt his heart...swell, bubble and melt like chocolate. His mouth buzzed with the cloying bittersweetness you radiated, and it made him crave your attention, your AFFECTION, more.

Smiling to himself some, he bumped your hip with his own, looking up at you under half lidded eyes. "Yeah, I guess nerd is a good term for em."

"What else? What do they do?" you asked, a coy look on you face, and he felt the thrill of teasing and playing with you making him giddy.

"I mean they're hot, for sure. Love their nose, it does this cute thing when they smile. And theyre one hell of a master of dungeons."

"A master of dungeons? Ahh so you like power eh?"

"Mhm. You could say Godly."

Man, a mortal falling in love with a god would be great. You'd push one of the great fairies, but they didn't fit personality-wise. Perhaps you would make another godly being, or there was the massive eldritch sea creature, but they wouldnt find that til the High seas chapter...

Godly. Master of Dungeons. Creative story teller with a love for...oh.

Oh.

The pieces clicked, and your eyes grew wide, face now flushed and hot to the touch. You whipped around to look at Leonardo, whose cocky grin faltered some at your bewildered look.

"Me, um- I just. I mean- I was asking for the campaign. For Aztiel."

Leonardo's face did the opposite of yours, blood draining quickly and making him appear pallor.

"Ah. I'm. Oh my god."

You two grew quiet. Your thoughts were that of a notebook in a whirlwind, papers and words and pictures whipping around you while you sat in the middle, getting fleeting frenzied glimpses at the chaos surrounding you. Leonardo's own were like tv static, harsh and crowding and, though others tried to push through, the screeching noise drowned them out.

"...No wonder I never could make an NPC you loved."

Leonardo swallowed nervously. He looked away, hot shame stabbing him in the gut and through the ribs. He felt ill.

"Yeah. They, um...Well I do like all of your characters. I love something about em all. They all have a little piece of you in them... I'm sorry- that's weird and I'm just going to-"

Masked eyes widened, his brain coming to a sudden, stuttering halt. He couldn't move, and he stopped breathing briefly as you pulled away, tongue swiping your own chapped and chewed lips nervously. You gathered the drinks again.

"I'm... free on Friday, if you wanna sneak out to go see the horror movie marathon at the drive in theater with me. My treat."

It took a few pulls of his brain's rip chord before his ability to think came back, but when it did, it was like all thoughts came to him at once. So many questions wanted to pour out of his mouth that they were scrambled, before he finally managed to ask-

"So! Uh, it's date, yea? A date? Like, with me? Boyfriend?"

You grinned, starting to walk out of the kitchen with a bit of extra pop to your step. "Yeah. A date with you would be wonderful. I've wanted to go on one with you for a while now."

YESSSSSSS LET'S GO DISASTER DATE LEO!!!

Thank you so much for the blind box fic! The way Leo just kinda studies reader while describing them, reader's obliviousness... Love it!!!

[id-rather-be-an-outsider]

College and Chill (teaser)

summary: who knew that the aftereffects of a night of drinking would turn out to be so much more than just a hangover?

a/n: hey ya’ll, the plan was to post this during March, but a lot of shit came up. one of my aunties passed, I had finals, my boyfriend found out his dad has stage 4 cancer, and I got hit by a car while driving home from my mom’s house (really mad about that tbh), so things have NOT gone according to plan 😭 anywho, as an apology for being late, here is a teaser! I will release the completed version sometime this month :) hope you like what I have in store!

What? Is it terrible of me to not want to give a stranger my address? Whatever. Groaning, I roll out of bed and pull on some sweats and one of Colt’s t-shirts. He keeps spares here when we do movie night, and they’re comfy so I wear them as a closet tax when I’m lazing about. I slink into the kitchen, down a glass of water and head to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Nothing fancy, just deodorant and brushing my teeth. I pull my hair into a ponytail and pour myself some cereal.

I’ve only just sat down with my bowl when I hear a knock.

I sigh, pulling the door open to find Colt being held up by a broad-shouldered guy wearing a bomber jacket. The stranger and I both stare at each other for a couple seconds before Colt says, “Y/n, Porco, Porco, y/n. Can I please go sleep somewhere dark now?”

I chastise him, “You could’ve done that at your own dorm, you know.”

“Yea, but I want to make you suffer as revenge.”

“Fuck you, I could still shut this door in your face and say no.” I move to push the door closed until Porco’s hand pushes it back open.

“I’m not watching him all day.” He says flatly. “And from the looks of it...” He eyes Colt’s shirt, “You already have experience taking care of him.”

I roll my eyes. “We’re just friends. I can’t date someone who gets drunk after only two shots.”

He smirks. “You don’t seem like you can handle your shit either.” I slip under Colt’s other side to help him over to the couch.

“I can handle a little bit more than Colt- I just drink ‘til he’s gone and quit then. Pretty good strategy, if I do say so myself.”

We let Colt plop down on the couch, and he immediately slumps over, mostly unconscious.

“So, you guys drink often?” Porco asks.

I nod. “We were in cross country together. Lots of parties.”

He looks over at Colt, already curled up sleeping. “You can handle him?”

“Yea. I just tell him to shut up and sleep when I get stuck with him.”

“I owe you.” Porco says, rubbing the back of his neck as he stands by the door.

“Just bring me food or some shit.”

[dandthegods]

My Uncle Dionysus

a short story

My Uncle Dionysus

By; Darren Almgren

Being a demigod is weird nowadays. Not that it was ever “normal”, but you don’t have legacy quests, minotaurs or hydras to slay, and the tax benefits are basically non-existent. But, one of the perks that I enjoy is my uncle. I can be myself around him and now that I’m on my own I can see him a lot more than my mother would approve of.

Last night, I went over to his apartment. We spent most of the night watching movies, eating pizza, and drinking. Well, I was drinking. It hadn’t occurred to me until that night that my uncle almost never drank - despite having such a well stocked liquor cabinet and an entire wall in his dining room dedicated to a massive wine rack.

“Hey, D,” I said when this dawned on me, “why don’t you drink when I’m here?” I swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “If you don’t mind me asking.” My uncle smiled and cocked a bushy eyebrow.

“When have I ever minded your questions?” He picked up my half full glass of wine and stared at it. “To be honest, I don’t have a taste for it. Never have. Everyone else tastes sweetness, earthy notes, chocolate, and maybe a bitter aftertaste. But for me…” he took a small sip and made a quizzical face, “it always tastes sour and metallic. Almost exactly like blood.” He put the glass back on the coffee table. “It’s still alcohol and will still do its job to get even a god plastered, but it's not the same.” He sat back and ran a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. “I’ve talked to Jesus about it. He says it's the same for him too. Moreso, even. Maybe it’s the whole ‘blood of christ’ thing for him - its his literal blood. But me?” My uncle shrugged.

“What about the rest of it?” I asked. “Alcohol, I mean.”

“That’s just a preference thing. I’m known for my supposed love of booze, but I’ve never really liked it. Even when I was getting sloshed every other night back in the day, I still never actually liked the taste of it. I simply help others lose their inhibitions to let them love and explore themselves. I can have a good time staying as sober as your mom. How is she by the way?” I shrugged.

“She’s who she is. Doesn’t much care about what I do outside of work…especially who I’m with.Just cares about work.” I absentmindedly checked my phone, instinctively opening my work email app before quickly shutting it off before my inbox could even load.

“Yeah,” said my uncle with a sigh, “Athena really has changed a lot. But, that’s what you get when all people remember you as is a mathematician or a librarian or patron of teachers or some shit like that. It’s such a small pigeonhole. Gods are subject to how we’re remembered. Even me,” he gestured to the wine bottle on the table and at the rock and punk posters on the walls. “I’m known as the drunk party animal. Lord of the bacchanalia, and Dionysus: the sex fiend of Olympus. I play the part, but I haven’t completely dissolved into the stereotypes.”

“Yeah,” i said and took a sip of wine. “Mom doesn’t talk about it, but I can tell she  misses the old days. She still has her shield and spear hanging in her office.” I paused. “But all she talks about is work.”

“I was surprised when I heard you were majoring in accounting,” my uncle said. “Creative kid like you, I thought you would follow in my or Apollo’s footsteps. How’s the writing going, anyways? I liked that last story you sent me.” I leaned back into the plush recliner I was in and smiled.

“Thanks. It’s going good. I’m kinda stuck with this one part. I’m trying to write this romance in, I think it could work, but its the…emotions I’m struggling with. The actions I’m good on, that’s the easy part. But I just don’t have a whole lot of experience to pull from without resorting to pop-song-cliches.” The image of Matt, the guy I’d been on a few dates with recently popped in my head. The three dates we’d been on had been my longest relationship I’d had, and even then it wasn't going very far out of necessity. My mom would never approve of him, or any guy I brought home.

My uncle chuckled and stretched out across his leather couch. His slim body arched slightly as he got comfortable. His silk shirt was unbuttoned halfway to expose his hairy chest. It may have just been because of the leopard print of the shirt, but I suddenly understood why he was associated with panthers lounging out in the Grecian sun. A hand dangled down to the floor and he scratched his bearded chin with the other.

“I don’t know if I can help you much,” he said. “I’ve had a shit ton of dates, one-night-stands, and a few marriages. But it can be hard to put that stuff, those feelings, into words.” He looked around the living room then pointed to a tall, thin bookshelf in the corner. “That doll there I got from Maria. Gorgeous woman. Skin like good espresso and thigh that could crack a coconut like an egg. I spent a long hot summer in Spain with her. Even got to meet her brother. But she left by Labor Day.” He pointed to a Green Day poster hanging on the wall behind the TV. “I met a guy named…James? Jack? Something with a ‘J’. Anyway, met him and had a nice quickie in the back of his old pickup at the concert. Doubt he remembers me. That was back in ‘97, I think.” My uncle picked at the crocheted throw blanket draped over the back of the couch as the Queen record that was on started playing My Best Friend. “Emily made this for me before she died. 60 years I spent with her. Heart made of gold and eyes like diamonds. Took a while to get past it…” he trailed off in thought. 

“Was she ‘the one’?” I asked. My uncle shook his head.

“Nah,” he said, still rubbing the yarn in his fingers. “No, gods don’t usually get soulmates, or one-true-loves, or any of that kind of a connection. We live too long for that. Zeus and Hera and Hades and Persephone make it look too easy sometimes. But, they’ve had their fair share  of shitty decades. They’re part of the exception. Them and…” he trailed off again, then adjusted his shoulders and laid his hand across his chest.

“I met this guy once, way back in the day. Cutest thing ever I’d ever seen. First met him on a river. He was playing a peppy little tune on his panpipes while sitting cross-legged on this big log. Well, I followed the music and waited for him to finish before talking to him. You know how musicians can be when interrupted. I thought even for a satyr he was cute. Short curly hair, sun-tanned skin, and eyes like emeralds flecked with gold. We ended up talking for the rest of the day on that log. Talked about everything under the sun. In the quiet moments we just couldn’t stop glancing at each other and laughing when we caught the other looking.

“Spent almost every day together. And every night,” my uncle smiled at me and winked. I stifled a laugh while taking a bite of pizza. My uncle laughed. “Yeah, and it’s true what they say about satyrs, too. Can go all night if you let them.” He started chewing on a nail on his left hand. “Weird looking cocks, though. It’s the goat-hald, you know. But anyway. He was a lot of fun. I don’t think anything has made me laugh as hard as him. Could make anything funny.” My uncle looked at the ceiling and sighed. “But sometimes he tried too hard. The last time…” he stopped and his tone got really serious and sounded unnatural coming from him.

“We’d found the pasture where your great-great aunt Selene had her cows. We watched them for a while, then Ampelos got this idea to kinda mess with them. An ancient version of a rodeo. So, he found the huge bull and climbed on. It was so fucking funny to see this little goat dancing on the back of a bucking bull. He started singing and yelling about being the ‘master of the bull’ or something like that.” He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “Whatever it was, it was really bad. Before we knew it, your aunt selene came down from her almighty throne in the stars and started yelling at Ampelos. He said something back. I guess it was the laughter with it that really pissed off Selene. And you know her generation, they’re quick on the punishments.” My uncle shifted on the couch and stared out of the open blinds at the full moon shining through. “And then he was on the ground…laying in the grass and cowshit…his stomach gored open by the bull’s horns.”

A shiver ran down my spine at the silence that ended the story. My uncle kept glaring out at the moon. I looked down, not sure what to do, but when I looked back at him, my uncle’s beard was bristling as his mouth trembled and his eyes were filled with tears. He lifted the arm that was draped down to the carpet and reached over to the wine bottle on the coffee table. He extended only his middle finger to touch the bottle. Instantly at his touch, a vine sprouted from the open mouth, twisting down and around the bottle and down the leg of the table to the floor. Leaves sprouted on the vine and between the star-shaped leaves bunches of dark grapes grew and swelled. When the grapevine started to wind up another leg of the coffee table from the floor, my uncle withdrew his hand and folded his arm across his chest. The Queen record ended and I got up.

“What would you like me to put on?” I asked as I got to the record player. My uncle didn’t reply or move. I lifted the needle and the vinyl stopped spinning. As I began to finger through the shelves of albums under the player, my uncle spoke up.

“Don’t let anyone tell you who you can or can’t love. Promise me that, kid. Life keeps rolling, so grab all of it that you can get.”

“Yeah,” I said over my shoulder. “Of course.” I flipped through a few more albums then found an old and battered Madonna LP. Thinking some dance music might cheer him up, I pulled it out and turned around. “Hey, what about —.” I stopped when I realized he was gently snoring. The green vine had faded to a withered yellow and the bunches of grapes and leaves were shriveled with some having fallen onto the floor. 

I put the record back on the shelf and went over to the coffee table. Quietly I picked up the plates and glasses and the pizza box and brought them to the kitchen. I put the half full pizza box in the fridge and the dishes in the sink. I went back to the living room and carefully cleaned up the table, careful not to disturb the wine bottle or the vine that grew from it. When it was all tidy, I turned off the living room lamp and left my uncle sleeping on the couch. Laying in the spare bedroom, I thought about my uncle’s story and what he’d said and didn’t say. In the morning, I texted Matt, inviting him over for dinner.

[homosociallyyours]

I WANT TO YELL ABOUT ALL OF YOUR WIPS!!!!!!!!!!! Can I be greedy and pretty please ask about Tax Preparer Marcel/Stripper Louis, Cinema/cinnamon 80s- times square red, times square blue, AND Upper West Side (girl direction)???

OMG YES of course Maggie!! Thank you for asking!!

Tax Preparer Marcel/Stripper Louis: This was actually supposed to be part of last year's Reverse Bang, with art/prompt by @becomeawendybird and it's. SO GOOD!! I basically just took on too much and couldn't make the deadline, but the fic kinda just needs another ~500 words and final editing.

It's based on a tweet by H&R Block saying they can help strippers figure out tax write offs (but in a cute, catchy way), and I set it in SF with Louis dancing at the worker owned, union-led Lusty Lady (which is closed, sadly). Here's a snippet, and the rest of the answers, behind a read more:

“I just wanted to say it’s been a real pleasure working with you, Lou. And if you have any questions you can call me any time and I’ll help you out if I can.” She slid a copy of her business card across the desk, her personal number written carefully across the top. “I hope I’m not overstepping, I just--” 

“Oh, you’re not at all! I was actually taking my time with these papers trying to figure out how to ask if you wanted to get coffee sometime. Or a drink, whatever.” Louis swiped her hair across her forehead, letting it fall artfully back into place. Her smile was soft and delicate, and Marcel felt like anything she could say in return would come out clumsy and awkward, but she had to try anyway. 

“I’d do whatever you wanted.” Her glasses slid down her nose as she looked down at her desk, not wanting to meet Louis’ eyes. “At least once tax season is over.” 

“So-- after April 15th, then?” Marcel nodded. “I’m going to hold you to it, Marce. Might even drag you to the Lusty one night since you said you’ve never been.” 

“Oh!” Marcie’s cheeks flamed, the thought of sitting in a booth with Louis in her lap filling every available space in her mind. “I did tell you that, didn’t I?” She was pretty sure if she saw Louis actually dancing she’d spontaneously combust, but that was the image that came to her mind next. She widened her eyes, trying to bring herself back into the moment. 

“You did, and you said you’d been meaning to do it for years.” Louis tightened the strap of her messenger bag, swinging it around to her back. Marcel refrained from staring at her tits, even if the strap pressing between them made them that much more prominent. “And honestly? I’ve told everyone I work with about you, so they’re all dying to meet you.” 

Cinema/Cinnamon/Times Square Red, Times Square Blue: So this is one that's just a fleshed out idea, but I REALLY wanna write it, so I hope I can make it happen. Basically when I first heard Cinema my first thought was that it sounded like Harry was saying "this enema" or "the cinnamon" instead of "the cinema" and of course that "you bring the pop" was about poppers. All of that plus cinema had me thinking about Samuel Delaney's Time Square Red, Times Square Blue, which talks about 1970/80s Times Square NYC and the porn theaters there as a gay space (I'm definitely oversimplfying; it's been years since I read the book and would wanna re-read before writing!)

Soooo. The plot is that Harry goes to the Times Square porn theaters regularly to anonymously get off with men there, but there's one guy in particular who it's always really good with-- a guy in a cap with long-ish hair who manages to keep his face hidden but who's always chewing cinnamon gum. It gets to the point that even smelling that warm cinnamon scent makes Harry's dick interested. Meanwhile, he takes a job in a restaurant kitchen in midtown. It's grunt work, and he mostly just keeps his head down until a new guy gets hired as a dishwasher. They strike up a friendship, and while walking downtown together after work, Louis pops in a stick of cinnamon gum as they pass the theaters (definitely a Pavlovian response).

Immediately Harry realizes that Louis is his cinnamon guy, but when he points it out Louis kinda freaks out and bolts. They do work it out, and it's not long before they're really getting to know each other/dating. After they've been together a minute they re-create their anonymous hook ups in the theater with Louis bringing poppers and the two of them fuck in the back. THAT'S ALL I'VE GOT

Upper West Side: This is a VERY old wip/start of a fic that's based on the King Princess song of the same name. It's set in NYC in the 90s. Here's the start of it:

They met at Clit Club on a Thursday night, the room more crowded than it should’ve been and “Push It” pounding out through the shitty speakers. Louis was high on the success of her drag show and covered in girls, but all she really wanted to do was dance. Find someone with a tight little ass and grind against her, taste the sweat rolling down their neck before she sucked a kiss there. Her favorite kind of calling card. 

She was about to go to the middle of the floor and let herself get lost in a sea of dykes, maybe find someone for a quick fuck in the bathroom, when the door opened, bringing a rush of cooler air from outside and grabbing her attention. A woman stood there, backlit by a streetlight and with long curls that made Louis want to get tangled up and pull. Louis squeezed her thighs together, thinking about getting this woman-- tall, femme, over-dressed for a bar like this, --up against the graffitied walls of the bathroom and finger fucking her until she was an absolute mess. 

There was no use wasting time. She walked over to the woman, who was still standing in the doorway, her eyes searching the crowded club as if she’d be able to find anyone she knew in the shadowed mass of dykes, and introduced herself. 

“You look lost. Like you might need a guide for the night,” she said, going on tiptoes to reach the woman’s ear. “I’m Lou.” 

“Harry,” the woman said, giving Louis a sidelong glance. “Don’t need a guide, but maybe you could get me a vodka soda? And a dance?” Her smile was a coy stretch of her wide, cherry red lips and a dart of her tongue, and fuck, that was enough to convince Louis she’d made the right move talking to this woman. 

[damureo]

Dinner and a Show

My husband, his mother, and I went to a restaurant that had a musical performance. We were seated at a table with an elderly couple. His mother started conversing with them while my husband and I kept to ourselves. I'm not exactly sure what prompted her, but she suddenly says, "i live in a red state now, and I'm the only democrat in the neighborhood!"

I wince. My husband winces. We exchange glances, take a drink of water, completely try to eject ourselves from what's to come.

What are the three things you don't bring up in (casual) conversation? Religion, money, and politics. And she just opened the doors.

The old man starts laughing and says, "Trumps gonna win."

"Haha," starts his wife, "let's not talk about politics... let's talk... about the kids!" And looks at my husband (25) and myself (24).

She asks how long we have been married, to which the answer is one year. She smiles and goes "aww honeymoon phase :) Enjoy it while it lasts!" Which isn't... inherently offensive, but it's kinda weird? We have been together for 5 years before marriage we're past a honeymoon phase. I had no desire to have an actual conversation, so I stayed silent.

My husband responds "I mean it's the same as before, except now we can do taxes together."

Mother in law groans "ugh how romantic (sarcasm), and to say that next to her. I swear, you guys and your views on marriage..." The woman agrees with her, clicks her tongue, and shakes her head.

"Oh, no, it's a factual statement. I work in finance for a reason haha" is all I say bc I'm trying to crawl out of my skin and get out of this conversation.

The old man suddenly points at me and goes "🫵DID YOU PAY INTO YOUR TAXES THIS YEAR?!"

Hesitantly, I nod.

The couple laughs at my husband and I, the man elbows my mother in law who is also chuckling, and says that they'll give us some life advice.

"If you want to pay less into taxes, maximize your deductions and credits. Buy at least 6 properties. Have at least 6 kids so that when they get older, you have a home for each of them, and they can pay you rent. A continuous flow of money. Property credits and children credits."

Without missing a beat, my husband goes, "Well, i'd love to do that if we could even afford a house :)" The couple frowns and shakes their heads. Telling us that young people just don't get it.

What do you mean you can't buy 6 properties ? Not even 2? Nonsense! Just get a piece of land to build on! Oh, I get it... it's because you both went to college!

She asks us about what we majored in and our jobs. My husband just says, "Oh, you... don't want to know the answer to that... let's talk about something else," and she pushes. He tells her that he's a political science major working as a social worker. She rolls her eyes and looks at me. I tell her I'm a psychology major working in finance. She makes some snarky comment like, "Oh, of course, that's what the two of you majored in."

The couple starts laughing at us. Again. The woman goes "tell me something, political science and psychology: when I was in college we did an experiment for a class..."

The experiment is basically studying the importance of having a lower, middle, and upper class and why it is a necessary and required system in order to have a functional society. She goes on to say that the experiment concluded that everyone has the same goals and, therefore, we all need to work together to help one another. Thus, the 3 class system is super duper important.

My husband just stares at her. "But... this experiment is in a classroom setting where your goal is to pass the class... Of course you all have the same goal...you are all literally in the same place..."

The discussion was interrupted by a server coming by offerring coffee refills. The server was a gorgeous woman and the old man's facial expressions kind of reminded me of a cartoon where a sexy lady walks by and the eyeballs literally pop out of their heads.

He asks her if she plans on serving him all night and shes says "haha... no I'm just filling up everyones coffee."

"Oh, well, don't you forget to take care of me every once in a while, sweetheart. Wink nudge wink" ugh

All of this, and the show hasn't even started! I decided to use that moment to leave and hide in the lobby until the show began. My husband followed suit. I felt I had worms in my brain. Was their financial advice really "no money? Buy properties and have kids!" Huh?? And not even 1 property 1 child, but 6 each??

We're gone for about 10 - 15 minutes and come back 10 minutes before the show starts. The couple left the table, leaving us with his mother, who is visibly annoyed.

"How can you leave me here with them?" She yells. "They wanted to talk to me about my illnesses and golf! (She plays golf on a weekly basis . ) I can't believe you guys abandoned me!"

"Why would you bring up that you're a democrat to strangers? The man is wearing a vietam veteran hat!" My husband says back.

"Well, I didn't think they'd be bothered by ME saying it!" She is, in fact, also a white boomer. My husband is mixed, and I'm ethnically ambiguous, but definitely not white.

"You started it, and they came for us! We didn't even want to talk to them! You didn't think they'd be bothered by you, but what about us?"

The conversation is cut as the couple comes back and the show finally starts.

The show ends, and we enter the car, MIL breaks the silence by laughing and says, "Thank god I didn't mention that I'm Jewish!"

🙂

I hope one day I can purchase several properties with the intention of profiting off my many children. And hopefully you can too!

[harmcityherald]

woo boy dem wine coolers. and to think I used to drink fifths of ronrico 191 like water. oh how the mighty have fallen.

that's my one day a year of alcohol. doc would be pissed. about as pissed about my cigars and my prolific cannabis consumption. she usually shakes her head. yeah but Im still here ain't I doc? wasn't supposed to be was I? so yeah I was lit. Im sure a not safe for nunnery got posted along the way somewhere. not that that should be any kind of surprise. Im glad all my kids had a good time. Im so lucky really the way they're turning out. Im proud of all of them for what they are and for what they are not. Im lucky. and for some uncanny reason they listen when I talk. I got some top notch crewmembers. They are going to go out in the world and be something special every one of them. not bankers or money hungry capitalist predators but real well rounded critical thinkers. proof I think that the biggest lesson you can teach any child is to think for themselves and the second lesson is to see the world through a compassionate lens. Those are the big two. then teach them to navigate this confusing red tape society as far as functioning the maze of taxes and budgeting and trying to live in the wage slave nation. and teach them to never stop dreaming. lastly teach them to never stop learning, never stop reading. We are all forever students in this short lived time we have and that the real power is knowledge. anyway they make me proud and I tell them but sometimes I just sit back and smile at them because I remember the toddler who learned that lesson and look at you now, a 21 year old grown young woman and I see her in love and this guy, short on real family and so thankful to be accepted here and I see his love for her and its all I could ever want for her and I know she will guard her heart and I know she will survive because I see my ghost inside her, my lessons. my beautiful little rebellious girl perched on my shoulder everywhere I went. Sometimes I still see her that way. my little angel. The only one I changed my life for. a forever bond. Now she is a grown beauty. alot of times I can't reblog that gorgeous half clad young thing you posted because my brain says christ and a handbag greg shes as young as your granddaughter. so sometimes my brain struggles with that one. and my grandson. Im so proud of him. gainfully employed. driving a forklift. coming home covered in soot from head to toe, just like I used to. Just like my grandfather did to me he was my tool runner. half inch crescent wrench snap snap. wasn't long before he knew each tool and what its for. I know even today these little things help him. and for them all, critical thinking is key. advocate for yourself. boss ain't nothing but another person just like you. always question authority. always be logical though. and pro union always.

good bunch I turned loose on the world. you're welcome.

[secretaccountlol]

"50% of marriages end in divorce, Peter Parker!"

You and Peter have been roommates for about 2 years now, what happens when you’re tiny teasing goes a little too far. THIS IS SMUUUUT!!!! 18+ YALLLL!!

Uh- fun fact Peter calls you pumpkin because you devoured a whole ass pumpkin pie in front of him once when you were drunk. 

You stretched, groaned in pain, muscles gone stiff from sitting and typing all day, you glanced at your computer screen, working at home had its perks but also its downsides. Cons, body aches, and always inside, Pros! Always inside, no need to mess with the people of New York, you can wear whatever (or no clothes at all), and best of all you can spend all extra free time with your handsome roommate, Peter Parker. 

Now were you expecting to fall heads over heels for your roommate of two years? No, but your little heart could only take so much teasing, these two years you spent together were full of accidentally walking in on each other in underwear, pretending not to savor the sight of each other’s bodies. Also- that one time you kissed at the Christmas neighbor block party, mistletoe and peer pressure can be a bitch. A familiar click rang through the air, killing your thought process. 

“Honey! I’m home!” Peter sang through the air. Speak of the devil and he shall appear. You shifted in your seat pushing yourself upwards to meet eyes with Peter. “Hello Peter, y’know if you keep yelling that everytime you come home could you wait until you’re inside the door? The neighbors are gonna think we’re married… again!” you picked up a random book to fiddle with,  in the middle of the sentence, you couldn’t keep a straight face imagining Pete and you like.. that, it made you shiver, not in a good way. 

“Okay- well” Peter paused as you heard the cabinets and fridge slam open close. “Kinda defeats the purpose cos you’re supposed to say it when you’re just making it through the door!” His voice cracked a bit, it’s something you've noticed he does when he’s in a good mood. You lift your head again to watch as he joins you on the couch, plopping down. He pushes the sandwich he was making in front of your face, inviting you to take the first bite, which you did happily. Him letting you steal pieces of his food was a daily occurrence,

He smiled, biting right after you munching in deep thought. “Plus-“ he swallowed “What’s so bad about us being married? I mean it comes with a lot of benefits' ' he stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing, causing the boy next to you to frown, “I’m sorry! But what benefits Pete?! To fuck eachother without judgement?” You giggled, Peter took another bite outta his sandwich, he looked up at the ceiling, his brain racking from the information you asked for . “Mm well, Tax deduction, social security benefits, and if you play your cards right, you’ll be less likely to be depressed.” He triumphed. You gave him an incredulous stare. “Ha- yeah right 50% of marriages end in divorce, I doubt that last fact is true '' You spewed while sitting back to join him in the staring contest with the ceiling. “Besides, they’re a new guy who moved in on our floor, he’s pretty cute. Wanted to get to know him before anyone decides to gossip about us to him, I wanted to ask him out for drinks or something..!”  You picked at your hair, as you monologue, just cus you like pete didn’t mean you couldn’t pursue other options.

“What do you by fuck eachother without judgement?” 

You straighten up a bit, to slowly turn to him, always a surprise when he cusses. You scoff slightly looking away, “Ah- uhm well. I mean- it’s nothing! But those idiots with the megaphone were outside of the apartments again screaming about how were all doomed and sinner and sex before marriage means you’re going to hell blah blah blah.” Peter nods along as you mimic someone talking with your hands. “That’s what I was talking about, that's all.” You sighed, relaxing back down into the couch. “Do you really believe that though?” Peter inquired, his eyebrows raised slightly. “Wh- no of course not. I was just joking about it.” You stumbled out. Peter hummed to himself, he was back into that science brain of his. You could never tell what he was truly thinking, he was always pretty open about his emotions to you but, when it came to other parts of his life, you didn’t know much. 

Like of course you know he loves hotdogs, his favorite soap to use in the morning or how he likes his coffee. But you didn’t know where he worked, why he worked such odd hours so often, not to mention how he would disappear for days and come back randomly. You never pushed for an answer but he definitely knew you noticed his weird schedule.

Peter smacked his hands together knocking you out of your thoughts, again. He hunched over to dust the invisible crumbs from his sandwich off his seat. “Remind me to complain to the landlords about that, it has to be illegal.” Peter muttered halfway to you halfway to himself , You chuckled “it’s New York, no one cares if stuff's legal or not.” You stood up, “uh- Imma head to my room” you bit your lip, it’s a nervous habit of yours, all this marriage and sex talk made you.. ansty to say the least. “Oh? Let me help you then-“ before you could decline the offer Peter scooped up your laptop and walked to your room. You mentally slapped yourself, so much for your “me time.” 

You jogged to your room, Peter already made himself comfortable on your bed as you took a seat at your desk where he sat your computer down. Awkward silence ensued, if you had laser eyes they would have burned a hole through the floor , Peter broke it “I really wouldn’t mind being married to you-“ you flushed. “Ah- you said that already, Pete” you finally tore your gaze away from the floor to meet his eyes, scanning his body in the process. He was wearing red socks, gray sweatpants that showed his.. package off well, and that stupid t-shirt you gave him first month you moved in. It was a part care package from your job congratulating you for hard work. It was random stuff like pens, a mug and the shirt of course, you were never one to do free advertisements so you gave it to Pete instead. You couldn’t help but smirk. 

“Ah- you’re right I did- haha” His arms were behind his spread evenly on the bed his legs apart, you could clearly see his third leg. “What’s with you being stuck on this marriage thing, are you trying to rope me into a scheme, Mr. Parker?” You teased, crossing your arms. “Oh pfft no it’s just that…hm.” He rubbed his hands along his face. “I- I’m trying to figure out a way to say this without..sounding weird.” He admitted, his tone shifted, it was softer than usual. You unfolded your arms, leaning towards him “Hey, you can tell me anything I won’t think it’s weird. That’s what friends are for.” Your hands touched his knee, you felt him tense under your light touch. “Mm, well..” He rubbed his hair through his hands as he straightened up. “Fuck- okay, look I- don’t want you to go out with that guy, pumpkin.” His eyes met yours, confusion was written all over your face. “Okay, but why? Is he an asshole or something?” You quizzed. 

“No, he’s not- I mean I don’t know I’ve never met him but- man this is harder than I thought.” Peter mumbled through his words making it even harder for you to understand what was wrong, suddenly strong hands gripped your waist. “Whoa- Pete?!” You manage to squeak out as he places you right on his lap. “Okay Peter this is weird, What is up with you today-?“ “I like you.”  You freeze. “What-?” “I like you, that’s the reason why I don’t want you to go to talk to that dude.” He tilted his head to look at you, you couldn’t resist those puppy eyes. This was insane- all this time you thought this attraction was one sided. “I- oh?” You muttered , Peter nodded his head, you bit your lip again, then a sly idea plagued your mind. “Mm, never thought you were the jealous type, Pete. Not gonna lie, I find it pretty cute.” Pete’s eyes perked up with wonder. “I- what? I’m not .. jealous. I mean you guys have never talked before so what’s there to be jealous of-?” Peter rushed out trying to shut down your statements, you tsked him rapid fire excuses, as you tried to move off of his lap, but he grabbed you tightly forcing you to stay in place, you swallowed back the moans that we’re begging to be released from the simple action. “Hm no I think you are- I mean why else would you be so opposed? Afraid he’ll steal me away, have seeeex with me?” You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows. Peter pouted, as he rubbed small circles into your soft skin. You were only wearing some shorts and a tank top, it was laundry day, lucky break for Peter. His hands slid up slightly, tickling your skin under your breast, you couldn’t keep your façade up, you moaned.

 Peter beamed, “Do you like that?” He whispered dipping his head down to peer into your eyes, you nod trying to resist the urge to look away in embarrassment. His hands slowly creeped up to your breast toying with them softly, he chuckled. “No bra today?” Peter smiled as he pinched your nipple. A jolt of energy makes you perk up as you stammer out a response. “Ah- well laundry day remember-? A-and Kinda forgot I didn’t have one on..” he laughed again. “Cute.” God you didn’t think you could turn this red. “Can I go further?” He spoke gently, “I don’t want to force you to do anythin-“ “Oh my god yes please go further I’m tired of my dildo..” you didn’t mean to let that last part slip out. “Oh I’ll definitely be better than any dildo-“ his confidence made you peak as he pulled your shirt off, tossing it to the side, doing the same to his shirt as well. 

He smashed his lips against yours, as his hands traced down your body, you shivered. His hands reach your waistband, swiftly diving in to pleasure your clit. You arch into his fingers, moaning into the kiss. He pulls away to observe your reactions, your face is pure bliss just from one touch, his lips gently plant kisses to your sensitive spots as he pushes two fingers into you, you buck against him. “P-Peter, mm- Oh- that-!” You couldn’t even form sentences as he curled his fingers into you. “Holy fuck- right there- fuck fuck fuck-!” Peter's fingers pumped faster as he pulled his lips away from your body. “You sure do cuss like a sailor in bed” he snickered as he pulled his fingers away as well, you whine mourning the loss of your new found happiness. “Shh, don’t worry I’ll fill you up again” Peter licked his fingers clean as you tugged at his sweats. “Impatient.” You whimper again “No more teasing-“ Peter licked his lips, “You really know what to say , pumpkin.” Peter dropped his pants letting his member spring free.

 “Holy shit- Pete-? Dude I’m not sure that’ll-“ you marveled at his dick, you've seen some big ones in your hay day but- you were way outta of practice by now. “Hey, don’t worry we’ll go slow okay? “ His fingers caress your cheeks as you nod against them. “Okay I trust you” you lean more into his touch as he positions himself at your entrance. “Ah shit should I get a condom?” Peter frantically searched the room before you reached up to touch his cheek grounding him again. “ Hey! it’s okay I’m on the pill.. get on with it-!” You grumbled. 

Peter nods finally pushes into you, groaning softly. You bit the inside of your cheek, to stop yourself from screaming in pleasure. “I-I’m inside- shit- you feel..so good-.” Peter's words hung in the air, as he hunched over you, you could feel his breath against your ear. “Peter, you can-!” Before you finish, he pulls back and slamming into you. “Peter- holy shit! fuc-“ you gripped the bed behind you as he drilled into you faster, “Sorry- I can’t, stop god you-, you feel incredible.” You couldn’t help but squirm as he buried himself deeper into your core ,Peter put an end to it grabbing both of your wrists pinning you down, “Mm- stop moving so much, princess-“ You whimpered, princess? You didn’t think that would turn you on but holy shit it did. “Holy hell, you’re so wet- do you like that when I call you princess, hm?”  you nod rapidly, you couldn’t speak anymore, too far gone. “Such a good girl-, fuck- Im- so so close.” Peter let go of your wrist to grip the bed under you, pounding into you. “I-I’m-“ you mustered some energy to try to speak, before you could at least form sentences now you can’t even form words. “S’okay, princess- I’m right behind you-” You twitched finally reaching climax, under him as he pumped into sloppily filling you up slowly with his cum. 

You both pant in silence before staring at each other’s eyes. Peter smiled softly, bending down to capture your lips once more, “Mm, that was.. nice.” You chuckled at his awkwardness. “Nice? That was fucking amazing!” You gleamed. You could feel Peter’s chest vibrate with laughter. “Uhm.. so- will you be my- uh-?” Peter’s eyes glanced at yours hesitantly. You smirked, “Peter we just fucked because you told me you liked me? Yes. Yes I will be your girlfriend you doofus.” You played with his curls giggling as his eyes lit up. “Let’s go!!” He glomped you into a hug rolling around as you both laughed. 

Maybe marriage can stop you from being depressed