#i am slowly getting used to expressions and how to really stretch em

[the-gayest-show]

I'm getting better at drawing poses now!

[mynameiskanade]

SILLY LITTLE MIKANADE STORY !!

the door from the bathroom opened, revealing a kanade with a towel draped over their shoulder while their hair was on top of the towel. the little waterdrops forming in the end of their strands, as the drops fell to the towel underneath. kanade stretched their arms upwards in exhaustion, before walking to their bed and sitting on it. they immediately grabbed their phone from on top of the drawer nearby, turning it on to check if theres anything new. they saw a message by a familliar someone…

[theres more under cut!] [anti selfship dni :3]

kanade, in the next day, was running through the crowds of the city. it was 09:57, almost time for them to meet with mika in the cafe. they quickly ran past the shops. they suddenly stopped running, heavily panting as they felt their heart beat quite fast. they opened their phone to see: 10:01 AM. they panicked and immediately went into the cafe as the bell in front of the door rings. a familliar person quickly noticed it, and a dopey, wide smile crept onto his face when he saw kanade.

“ kanade-chan, over her’! “

mika waved to kanade from afar, kanade walked to him and sat on one of the chairs for the table mika was in. “ …..ahh.. sorry, i was a bit late.. “ kanade said, scratching the back of their head nervously. their heart seemed to beat faster from running. “ ??.. nnahh,, its fine! i think i jus’ came too early. i was hopin’ ya’d come! “ mika reassured, patting kanades head. the waiter slowly came to their table, giving them the menu.

“ so, what do ya wanna order ? i think i’d get the donut! i know ya really like strawberry donuts, so i wanna order ‘em for the both of us.. “ mika’s cheeks became as pink as the stawberry donuts on the picture of the menu.“ …. mmm… well, if you’re ordering the donut for me, then ill just take the cappuccino. “ kanade said. “ ohhh… alright then! i’ll jus’ get donuts for us. i don’ feel like eatin’ much.. “ the waiter writes down in their notepad about kanade’s and mika’s order. the waiter then took the menu and walked away. there was a slight awkward silence between kanade and mika after the waiter left, but kanade spoke:

“ ….so.. uh… oh, right. did you know theres multiple new clothing stores in a mall i used to go to a lot as a kid? “ kanade said. “ …i was hoping you might wanna.. join shopping with me? “mika’s face immediately brightened as soon as he heard that. “ nnggahh.. i wanna go wit’ ya ! tha’ sounds fun, and .. “ mika paused for a second. “ …to think i’ll be goin’ wit’ ya.. makes m’go all fuzzy.. “

the waiter then soon arrived with the food that kanade and mika ordered. they both were happy to eat the food and drinks while chatting happily with eachother. it has been a while since kanade has been this way. they felt… attached to him. kanade tries to shake the thought off and deny it by multiple times. though.. it was obvious how kanade seemed to love chatting with mika, and how kanade was the nicest to mika. it was also obvious how kanade kept looking at how mika and shu talked with eachother, feeling a teeny tiny bit of envy. …why hasnt kanade’s heart stopped beating ever since they arrived?

….i wonder if he genuinely cares about me.

—

kanade and mika soon have entered the mall, they escalated to the fifth floor to check out the new clothes stores. the stores range from hair accessories, to multiple choices of fashion. mika was definitely excited to check the stores out, taking kanade’s hand to check those stores out. kanade was startled by the sudden action, but didnt mind one bit.they both started checking out the accessories store. there were bracelets, hairclips, extensions, and some hairbands.

“ …oh, hey. “ kanade said, picking up the multiple purple hairclips. “ …i feel like this would suit you well, mikarin. i wanna see you wearing it, maybe… “ kanade kept their neutral expression that they always have on their face, but its obvious their expression seemed a bit more happy than usual. “ oohh.. i mean.. i don’ know if this will suit me… but if kanade-chan says so, ill try it on fer ya ! “ mika immediately clips on the hairclips, showing it to kanade after hes done clipping it to their hair.

“ how do i look, kanade-chan? “ mika looked at kanade with a wide grin.“ …you.. you look really great, actually.. “ kanade says. “ …im actually kind of jealous of how nice you look.. “ mika became giddy hearing it, but he grabbed kanade’s shoulder and looked at them with a serious expression. “ nggah.. but ya look so good wearin’ anythin’.. “ you can basically hear the frown and adoration in his voice. but truly, nobody can replicate how pretty you are…

kanade eyes widened, as they became red at the words of mika. kanade then paid for mika’s accessory, lovingly dragging mika out of the store. they looked down on the floor from the gaps of the floor. there was an aquarium. kanade was curious to check it out. “ ..ohh.. hey, theres an aquarium. do you maybe… wanna go check it out?? “ “ really?! i would love ta-!“ once kanade heard his answer, they immediately started running with their hand interlaced with mika’s.

“ nggahh?! s..slow down, kanade-chan-! "

—

kanade and mika are now in the aquarium. it was a dark place, but weirdly something in the sea made everything shaded blue. there was only a few people to be seen, weird. they were both met with adorable sea creatures swimming around the water, ranging from colorful to dull colors. they both felt nice. kanade places their hand on the glass of the water tank. it was truly beautiful… mika giggled at the sight. “ hehe.. yer really happy today, huh? “

“ …well, its not my fault the fishes looks cute. “ kanade said, staring into the distance. they slowly wondered, about something. “ …hey, if i was a fish, would you think im beautiful? “ kanade asked mika, tilting their head in curiosity for mika’s answer.

“ mmm… well.. i think yer pretty in every way-! “ mika then looked at kanade, they were shaded with a light blue, because they were so close to the glass. he felt like he saw something.. truly mesmerizing. he went red at the sight, becoming unresponsive. kanade looked weirdly beautiful under the shade. kanade then placed a hand infront of mika, shaking it. “ …hello? earth to.. mikarin? “ mika snapped out of it, and started stammering and almost falling back. “ n..nggah.. s..sorry, ya just looked so.. “ mika suddenly wraps his arms around them, burying his face into their neck. kanade was startled, but slowly hugs him back.

nothin’ could match yer beauty, not even the fishies..

—

soon, the clock on kanade’s phone turned 09:57 to 16:39, not noticing how the sky has faded into a warm orange. kanade and mika were walking along the streets, talking a lot to eachother.“ hehe, today was super fun! i love spendin’ time with ya, kanade-chan.. i miss the feeling a lot. “ mika smiled wide. kanade suddenly stops in their tracks, making mika suprised and looked back at kanade. “ …eh? kanade-chan, why did ya suddenly stop..? “

kanade seems to be spacing off, suddenly looking a little numb. there was a bit of sadness in their eyes as they stared into the distance, but they slowly diverted their eyes on the ground on the left. today was kinda windy, so all clothes were moving to the direction of the air pressure. both of mika and kanade’s hair were flowing through the air. they soon made eye contact with mika. it was like nothing exists besides them.

“ …hey, mikarin.. can you promise that we’ll be close together forever..? ….for everything to be the same as always..? “ kanade asked to mika, mika was a little suprised by the sudden request. “ ..eh? kanade-chan, why are ya suddenly saying stuff like that..? “

“ … “ kanade looked away once again, there was a silence between them for a few seconds, before mika started speaking. “ …i dunno if we ar’ gonna stay together like this.. but.. ill do my best to keep this way! “ mika holds both of kanades hands again. “ c’mon! lets go talk a lil’ at my dorm! ritsu-kun wont mind. “ mika then walked with kanade to ensemble square. there was a slight smile on kanade’s face, before walking with him. ‘maybe it was jus’ my imagination..’

i'll be here with you. always and forever.

[zarnzarn]

Stolitz fic rec!!

||

I'm going to just drop my favorite stolitz fics here.

They run at night by @wearemisfortune

Blitzo is always moving because when his body stops, his mind races. This almost always leads to a terrible fucking idea.

Tonight is no different—but the result will be.

-lovely angst, lovely climax, and it captures Blitz's line of thinking in a serious tone but in a way still feels authentic to the character. And I'm ALWAYS a sucker for the sheer unconditional trust trope.

Junctures by @sluttycrimehat

To everything, there is a season.

-I still am in complete awe of how the author managed to fit so much in such little time. The bit at the end always fucking gets me, I love it so MUCH.

The last general by @curtailed

It's in a month after, with Stolas spent and lying on his side, that Blitzo finally musters up the courage to tell him.

-Hello??? BEAUTIFUL post-harvest moon fic, wonderful vibes, love how well they know each other in this one, the trust is amazing. Love it.

You got everything that I want by @bipridemoth

Stolas can’t recall a time where “love” wasn’t synonymous with “pain” for him.

With Blitzo, it’s not love. So, there’s no pain. Stolas doesn’t let there be pain, at least not emotionally, the physical pain is something he quite enjoys. When Blitzo leaves after their monthly night together, he doesn’t allow himself to feel pain, only anticipation of the next time. He likes that there’s always a next time, even though that’s because of his active incentive more than anything else. But that’s alright, he doesn’t want Blitzo to come see him without an incentive. He deserves favors in turn for what he’s giving Stolas.

-Stolas angst!!!! The angst really is delicious in this one, with just as nice of a happy ending. Blitz is confident about the relationship, which is Wonderful to read and the "I know where this is going" segment had me in TEARS.

Between fairy tales and realities by @coloringthegreyscale

Blitzo's a complicated imp and Striker and Stolas accept that. But what happens when the two worlds he's made for himself collide together for one night? Well...

-Okay, so yes, this is striker/blitz/stolas, but it's so good. All three of them have a lovely dynamic, managing to work out somehow, with powerful Stolas, wonderful Blitz and a HILARIOUS Striker. Go read the series, it's a lot of fun and has many cute interactions that made me smile.

The look by @seireileafy

Blitz has been noticing a change in Stolas.

-It's such a CUTE drabble, I adore when one person can tell the other is pining for them, and the LAST LINE FUCKING GETS ME EVERY TIME-

Instead I made my bed with apathy by @thebooklord15

Just like every night before this one, Blitzo glared at the form next to him, already lulled into the bliss of slumber. He had never meant for things to turn out this way-he’d gotten the grimoire already, he didn’t need this man and from the way Stolas treated him it was clear he did not need the imp either.

And yet.

-Jcjdkafj this one is so GOOD I love blitz being pissed off yet too deep in to stop, and like I've said for others already THAT LAST LINE, PLEASE-

Call and response by anon

It was a love story, maybe.

-short but deliciously angsty, with some beautiful imagery, really nice dialogue, and time-doesn't-exist-in-this-motel-room vibes. Love it.

Shovel proof by @kereea

Octavia tries to give Blitzo the shovel talk. He decides to help with that.

-FUCKING cute, love the Octavia/Blitz dynamic, and it has snappy fun dialogue!! Really sweet.

Reaching out, touching me, touching you by @allmightshipserasermic

Stolas hasn’t been able to preen sufficiently in quite awhile, since Stella refuses to do it for him anymore. Blitzo offers to help.

-PREENING FIC is there anything more I have to say?

The skin you could have by @coloringthegreyscale

Stolas catches Blitzo staring and it leads to some talk, some magic, and a little bit of fun.

-Again, BEAUTIFUL dynamic between the two, lots of angsty tenderness, and lovely body imagery.

Different shapes by @sirdust

“Before the exorcist, he taketh the image and shape of a man.”

Blitz catches a glimpse of Stolas’ human form.

-okay, practically a direct opposite of the previous fic, but SO GOOD, I can't describe it. Love the imagery and their comfortable relationship.

A helluva mess by @stratumgermanitivum

It’s not like Stolas isn’t a hot piece of ass, because he is.

And it’s not like Blitzo’s blind or anything, because he isn’t.

It’s just that there’s pleasure, and then there’s business, and never the twain shall meet. (Unless he finally gets Moxx on board with that threeway, in which case, Blitzo fully intends to christen every damn surface of the office except his precious Loony’s desk.)

-AMAZING, love the pining and denial on both sides it's so great especially since you can tell both sides know that they've messed up. Again, LAST LINE!!

Eat the whole cake (it's what you deserve) by @okoyik

"His Highness is on the phone for you, sir," Moxxie says.

Blitzo makes a face. "Who?"

"Stolas," Moxxie supplies, as if that's supposed to help Blitzo understand. His expression is surely one of complete confusion as he stares at the other imp.

"Who the fuck is Stolas?" Blitzo asks slowly, racking his brain for a face to put to the name.

-

Blitzo's memory starts to slip, and all he knows is he needs that owl that seems to haunt his nightmares to stay away.

-HELLO it's only on one out of four chapters for now but it's already SO GOOD I can't WAIT for the rest!!!

Stand tall, but your hands are shaking by @remymorton

It’s been a month since the Harvest Moon festival. Another full moon night arrived, and after that... Blitz ... He's not well.

-wordless cute comfort, truly very sweet, I love it.

Palaces and souvenirs by @cloudysonder

So Stolas is objectively. Objectively. Attractive. Kinda soft-looking, sometimes. Pretty. Whatever. Fuckin’ whatever. That’s always been a thing. Blitzo knew that, Stolas definitely knew that-- whatever.

"This is not," Blitzo thinks, sounding a little bit desperate even to himself, "some sort of revelation."

His flicks of the lighter get a little more unstable, a little more frustrated.

A clawed hand reaches over and takes hold of the lighter, lighting Blitzo’s cigarette with practiced ease, as if he’d done the same thing a thousand times before (He has, Blitzo realizes).

“Silly Blitzy,” he giggles quietly, giving Blitzo a soft pat on the head before curling up beside him, stretching one last time before closing his eyes to sleep.

Blitzo feels warm.

"This," Blitzo tells himself, and it sounds like a command, "will not be a problem."

-I saw the start of this fic on Twitter and have been following it religiously ever since. It's really a gorgeous fic, three chapters up, with the promise of a Great slow burn, fun dialogue and Octavia & Blitz bonding. The level of denial Blitz is in even as he moves comfortably around every aspect of Stolas' life cracks me tf up.

Can't by @hazbincalifornia

Blitzo realizes he feels something something that he doesn't want to feel. This was supposed to be simple.

-feelings realization fic, wonderful, amazing, lovely, also the exact same way I realized I was gay, funnily enough (girl fell asleep in my lap and I was like oh. Oh fuck.)

Too late to stop by @malkaviancake

Stolas spends some time with his thoughts, realizing that his feelings for Blitzo aren't as one sided as he presumed.

-GORGEOUS vocab, I'm truly very obsessed with it. Like most of these stories, LAST LINE!!!!

Itchy with want, thin on sleep by me

It happens in parts- both falling in love and having his eyes opened.

-I will,, finish this one day, but for now here's a few in between moments before they have The Conversation.

Heaven in hiding by me

Their nights together are good, they always are, both of their tastes lining up to be shockingly compatible, but on the days where they end early and they get to spend some extra time cleaning up in comfortable silence or playful banter- and Blitz would rather take a bullet than admit this out loud- but those nights are pretty great too.

-AFTERCARE FIC, I had to write an aftercare fic ft. Good dom Blitz, Stolas taking care of him in return and a comfortable relationship that they both know is going to cause Problems in the future :)

Love in the bones and sinews of this curse by me

Five times Stolas and Blitz needed the grimoire to break a curse + one time they didn't.

-self explanatory. I tried to make it as funny as possible, everyone bickers a lot and Blitz brings Stolas flowers and gifts, what more could you need?

Life is a curse (love makes it worse) by me

"Alright!" Blitz says, clapping his hands together, "Weapons out, and-"

Half pull out some gun or the other, but half just look at him blankly. Blitz wishes for death.

"Save me from this family," He mutters under his breath, "Okay. Take these then." He passes out the few weapons he'd brought along with him and doesn't ask if they know how to use them because if he hears a no, he's giving up and going back home. "Stick close and talk loudly so the others can hear us. Let's go."

They move out, Blitz taking the lead and the rest forming a circle close behind him, starting up a loud conversation about the neighbour's garden. It gives him enough time to wonder exactly what the fuck he's doing here, in a nightmare world with a bunch of pretentious snobs, searching for his stupid Ars Goetia boyfriend, instead of sleeping in his nice lumpy bed back at home.

-a sequel to the previous fic!!! I had to write some Octavia and Blitz bonding, and accidentally added in a bunch of teenage imps who work for Stolas who imprint on Blitz immediately. And there's Eldritch Stolas, protective boyfriends and found family!!! The whole shebang!!!

This ended up being Much longer than I'd expected, but genuinely every fic up there is really good, go check em out!!!!

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 23: Stealing the Batmobile (Alt Prompt Driving)

AO3

Prev

Marinette looks at her little brother with an amused expression before asking:

“He really stole the Batmobile?” 

“Yup. Claimed he was a better driver than me.” Dick says with a snort. Marinette winces. 

“To be fair, he’s probably right. You’re kind of an awful driver.” She says with an apologetic smile. Dick clutches his heart and sniffles loudly. 

“My own flesh and blood!” He cries dramatically. Damian scoffs. 

“Tt. She is on my side, Grayson. As she should be since she is <i>my<i> flesh and blood.” He says with a scowl. 

“The pain!” Dick cries, throwing himself off the couch and onto the ground. Jason just sighs and shakes his head, while Tim looks on tiredly. The five of them had decided to hang out at the manor together earlier, which had somehow shifted into telling stories about each other and funny things that had happened. Marinette loved hearing stories about her brothers from when they were younger. 

“Out of all of us, I am likely the most competent driver.” Damian says, glancing at Marinette before nodding once. “And I assume Marinette would be the second most competent.” He adds. Marinette’s face instantly turns red- she’d never driven before. Her little brother (who was two years younger) was already a great driver. And she…..was not. 

“Oh, uh, I’ve actually never driven before.” She admits. Damian frowns. 

“Wait, you’re almost fifteen and you’ve never driven before?” Jason asks, leaning forward. “Like, ever” 

“Well, no. You can’t get a license in France until you’re eighteen. So no one in their right mind is going to let a fourteen year old drive around the city.” She explains. She watches as a thoughtful look crosses Damian’s face before settling back into a neutral mask. 

“I require your assistance with something. Follow me.” He says, standing and walking out of the room. 

“Er, okay.” She says, furrowing her eyebrows. “We’ll be right back.” She reassures her other brothers. She walks quicker, trying to catch up with Damian who was practically running at this point. He glances at her and raises an eyebrow. 

“Did the others act as if they would follow?” He asks. She frowns, but shakes her head. “Excellent.” He says, opening one of the entrances to the Batcave. She follows him, but freezes as they walk in and she sees where he’s heading. 

“Damian, we’d get into so much trouble.” She says, planting her feet and freezing in place. 

“Not if we aren’t caught. Which we will be if we don’t leave soon.” He says, rushing into the changing room. She stays where she is, glancing down at Tikki peeking out of her purse. 

“Marinette, your father would not like this.” She warns. Marinette bites her lip. 

“I know, but Damian seemed so excited.” She counters, with a small smile. Tikki gives her an unimpressed look. Marinette watches as her little brother walks back out, dressed in his uniform. He nods at her once and then climbs into the driver’s side. She hesitates, weighing her options. She could go with and attempt to drive the Batmobile, or she could watch her little brother drive away and know that no one knew where he was. Crap. Pushing away every instinct telling her this is a horrible idea, she rushes after Damian and hops into the car, calling her transformation as she does. She grins at her brother, her Ladybird suit had started giving her more confidence than her Ladybug suit. It was odd, but she loved it. He immediately slams on the gas, driving out of the cave and into Gotham.

“Ukht, will you be driving as well?” He asks and she hesitates before nodding. It was the Batmobile, what could go wrong?

---

Okay apparently a lot could go wrong, she thinks, watching as the Batmobile slides into the Gotham river. 

“How the fuck did you guys manage that?” A voice asks. She whirls around, wincing when she sees Jason, as Red Hood. She can’t see his face but she can just imagine the look he’s giving them. 

“In my defense, we were left unsupervised.” She says. He scoffs. 

“You little shits left us!” He reminds her. 

“Ladybird had never had the chance to drive before. It made sense to make sure that she could drive and to train her in case she ever needs to utilize a vehicle on patrol.” Damian reasons. And yeah, the reasons are sound. But the Batmobile slowly sinking into the river kind of makes his reasons weak. Just a bit. 

“And driving into the river was, what, to see if she could drive a boat?” Jason asks, crossing his arms. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, Hood. That’s a car.” She says, the words tumbling out of her mouth. She regrets it, but only for a second because then she hears Damian snort. Score! Every time she was able to make her angriest brother laugh, she gave herself a point. She was so close to double digits.

“Well B’s gonna be ready to go on patrol in less than an hour. Either of you two geniuses have any ideas on how to get the car out of the river and back to the cave?” Jason asks, pulling Marinette from her silent celebration. 

“We could call a tow truck.” She suggests. 

“Tt. That is unwise. The Batmobile is not a regular car.” Damian argues and she huffs. 

“Okay well, last I checked you didn’t have any bright ideas either.” She quips, annoyed with him again. They were good at that. Laughing one minute, then annoying each other the next. She figured it just meant they were doing something right as siblings. 

“Ladybird might actually have a good idea, Robin. Unless you want to call Superman here and have him rat you out to B.” Jason says. A devious smirk stretches onto Damian’s face and Marinette suppresses a shudder. She was definitely glad the kid was on her side. Most of the time, anyway. 

“Excellent point, Hood.” He says, clearing his throat slightly before yelling. Well, not really yelling. Just talking slightly louder than normal. “Jon. I require your assistance.” A few moments later a boy flies down and lands in front of Damian. If she didn’t know any better, Marinette would assume the boy was another of her dad’s kids. Dark hair, blue eyes. But this kid had a huge smile stretched across his face. So maybe not. 

“Hey Robin! I haven’t seen you in ages!” The boy says cheerfully before waving at Red Hood. He turns to her and his smile falters slightly before it’s back full blast. He sticks out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I’m Superboy.” He says. Marinette grins, shaking his hand back. 

“Ladybird, and likewise.” She says. 

“So what-” Jon (Superboy?) starts, glancing at the river, eyes widening at the car. “Did you steal the Batmobile again!?” He yelps, obviously shocked. And concerned. Which she understood. It’s not everyday you see the Batmobile slowly sinking into the Gotham river. 

“Er, temporarily misappropriated.” Marinette says, glaring at Jason who snorts at her response. 

“No, they definitely stole it. And Ladybird here decided she’d try to drive for the first time. What I’m not understanding is why you knuckleheads thought it’d be smart to drive so close to the river?” He says. 

“Obviously I wasn’t thinking clearly, Hood. Can we please just focus on getting the car out of the river before I’m murdered by Batman?” Marinette rambles, looking pleadingly at Jon. It was odd, begging a little kid to drag her superhero dad’s super car out of a river, but it had to be done. 

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Jon says, his earlier shock replaced with a wide smile once again. He flies over and grabs the car, gently pulling it up and placing it back on the road. Marinette winces at the water pouring out of the car. She was so grounded. 

---

Walking into the Batcave, Bruce frowns at the lack of Batmobile. He’d passed Tim and Dick on his way to the Cave, so he knew they didn’t have it. Which left his two most mischievous sons and the daughter they had so easily corrupted. Hopefully they were just getting fast food or something again. Hopefully nothing bad was happening. He winces. That was unlikely with his children. He rushes over to the computer, tracking the Batmobile and accessing the cameras near the car. The image in front of him makes him pinch the bridge of his nose and grit his teeth. 

“Just one day, one day is all I ask.” He mumbles under his breath. Because of course traffic cameras would catch Superboy lifting the Batmobile out of the river. Of course. He sits in his chair and watches as the kids argue for a few minutes before getting in the car and driving off. He tracks them all the way until they’re past cameras, and then he waits. Knowing it’ll only be moments until they’re in the Cave. He sits, silent as they get out of the car. 

“No, seriously, he’s gonna know.” Marinette is saying, obviously looking nervous. 

“Then beg Tikki to take all the water out or something. It’ll be fine, Pix.” Jason says. 

“She’s gonna be so mad at me though. She warned me that it was a bad idea.” Marinette says, and Bruce decides to speak up. 

“She was right.” He says, turning his chair to face them. 

“SHIT! Goddamn you Bruce, why the hell would you sneak up on us like that?” Jason huffs out, glaring at him. 

“Perhaps it’s the same reason that you three thought it was a good idea to steal the Batmobile.” Bruce says, crossing his arms. 

“Uh, fuck that. I wasn’t in on it. I went out to try and find the little shits when I realized they were gone.” Jason argues, crossing his arms too. 

“Ukht had never driven before. I believed it was a useful skill that she could utilize on future missions or patrols.” Damian says simply, his calm demeanor the complete opposite of Marinette’s current demeanor. She’s obviously panicked and anxious, avoiding looking at him. He feels his former resolve soften slightly. No one was hurt, they obviously felt bad. And Marinette obviously felt bad about it. But still….

“You’re benched for the night. Both of you.” He instructs. Damian grits his teeth but nods, while Marinette looks confused. 

“But I’m not even-” She starts to say, stopping as Jason throws a hand over her mouth. “Well, well, look at the time. I’ll take them upstairs and tuck ‘em in before patrol.” Jason says, rushing away with Marinette and leaving Damian behind. Damian turns to Bruce and frowns. 

“It did not go unnoticed by me, Father, that you benched the one child you do not allow to patrol. You may have done this in an attempt to not punish Marinette, but make no mistake she will remember this. And she will be on patrol later this week. After all, you only benched her for tonight.” Damian says, nodding at his father before walking away. Bruce sighs. He hadn’t thought this one through.

---

“What was that for?” Marinette asks, frowning at her brother as he drags her to the house. She drops her transformation as they walk, wincing slightly at the ‘we’ll talk later’ look from Tikki. Oh yeah, she was definitely getting lectured. 

“He just benched you for tonight, right?” Jason asks, a smirk on his face. Marinette huffs. 

“Yeah, but I’m not even technically allowed on patrols.” She reminds him. 

“Except now, you’re technically allowed to come tomorrow. He said you were ‘benched for the night’.” Jason points out. Marinette opens her mouth to argue, then closes it. She blinks before a wide smile stretches across her face. Was she really gonna get to go back on patrol on a technicality? Suddenly, she no longer regretted driving the Batmobile into the river.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

[nim-lock]

Art Career Tips, 2021 Edition

Here’s an edited version of my 2019 answered ask, because... this feels relevant. 

It is a problem of capitalism that folks equate their income as a judgement of their value as people; and let me preface. You are worth so much. You have inherent value in this world. Your income is not a judgement on who you are (plenty of billionaires are actively making the world worse). LARPing self-confidence will go a long way to helping you get paid more for your work, because clients will believe that you know what you are doing, and are a professional. 

& real quick—my own background is that I’ve been living off my art since 2018. I went to art school (Pratt Institute). I work in a publishing/educational materials sphere, and a quarter of my income is my shop. Not all of this information may apply to you, so it is up to you to look through everything with a critical eye, and spot pick what is relevant. 

So there are multiple ways of getting income as an artist; 

Working freelance or full-time on projects

Selling your stuff on a shop

Licensing (charging other companies to use your designs)

This post primarily covers the freelance part; if you’re interested in the other bits there is absolutely info out there on the internet. 

IF you are just starting (skip to next section if not applicable) dream big, draw often (practice helps you get better/more efficient), do your best to take "a bad piece” lightly. You’re gonna RNG this shit. At some point your rate of “good” works will get higher. Watch tutorial videos & read books. A base understanding of “the rules”; anatomy, perspective, composition, color helps you know what the rules are to break them. This adds sophistication to your work. One way you can learn this stuff is by doing “studies”—you’re picking apart things from life, or things other people have done, to see what works, and how it works. 

Trying to turn your interests into a viable career means that you are now a SMALL BUSINESS; it really helps to learn some basic marketing, graphic design, figure out how to write polite customer service emails; etc. You can learn some of this by looking it up, or taking skillshare (not sponsored) classes by qualified folks. Eventually some people may get agents to take care of this for them—however, I do recommend y’all get a basic understanding of what it takes to do it on your own, just so you can know if your agent is doing a good job. 

Making sure your portfolio fits the work you want to get

Here is a beginner portfolio post. 

Research the field you’d like to get into. The amount people work, the time commitment, the process of making the thing, the companies & people who work for them. 

Create work that could fit in to the industry you’re breaking into. For example, if you want to do book cover illustration, you draw a bunch of mockup book covers, that can either be stuff you make up, or redesigns of existing books. If you’re not 100% sure what sort of work is needed for the industry, loop back into the portfolios of artists in a similar line of work as whatever you’re interested in, and analyze the things they have in common. If something looks to be a common project (like a sequence of action images for storyboard artists), then it’s probably something useful for the job. 

CLIENTS HIRE BASED ON HOW WELL THEY THINK YOUR WORK FITS WHAT THEY WANT. If they’re hiring for picture books, they’re gonna want to see picture book art in your portfolio, otherwise they may not want to risk hiring you. Doesn’t have to be 100% the project, but stuff similar enough. If you aren’t hired, it doesn’t mean your work is bad, it just wasn’t the right fit for that specific client. 

If you have many interests, make a different section of your portfolio for each!

Making sure you’re relevant 

Have a social media that’s a little more public-facing, and follow people in the career field you’re interested in. Fellow artists, art directors, editors, social media managers; whoever. Post on your own schedule. 

Interact with their posts every so often, in a non-creepy way. 

If you’ve made any contacts, great! Email these artists, art directors, editors, former professors, etc occasional updates on your work to stay in touch AND make sure that they think about you every so often.

Show up to general art events every once in a while! If you keep showing up to ones in your area (when... not dying from a sneeze is a thing), folks will eventually start to remember you. 

Industry events & conferences can be pricey, so attend/save up for what makes sense for you. Industry meetups are important for networking in person! In addition to meeting people with hiring power, you also connect with your peers in the community. Always bring a portfolio & hand out business cards like candy. 

Active job hunting

Apply to job postings online.

If interested in working with specific people at specific companies, you could send an email “I’d love to work with you, here’s my portfolio/relevant experience”, even if they aren’t actively looking for new hires. Be concise, and include a link to your work AND attached images so the person reading the email can get a quick preview before clicking for more. 

Twitter job postings can be pretty underpaid! Get a copy of the Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines to know your rate. I once had a twitter post job listing email me back saying that other illustrators were charging less, and I quote, “primarily because they’re less experienced and looking for their first commission”. This was not okay! For reference, this was a 64-illustration book. The industry rate of a children’s book (~36 pages) is $10k+, and this company’s budget was apparently $1k. For all of it. 

Congrats you got a job! Now what?

Ask for like, 10% more than they initially offer and see if they say yes. If they do, great! If not, and the price is still OK, great! Often company budgets are slightly higher than they first tell you, and if you get this extra secret money, all the better for you. 

Make sure you sign a contract and the terms aren’t terrible (re: GO GET THE  Graphic Artists’ Guild Handbook Pricing & Ethical Guidelines) 

Be pleasant and easy to work with (Think ‘do no harm but take no shit’)

Communicate with them as much as needed! If something’s going to be late, tell them as soon as you know so they aren’t left wondering or worse, reaching out to ask what’s up. 

And if all goes well, they’ll contact you about more jobs down the line, or refer you to other folks who may need an artist, etc. 

Quick note about online shops/licensing and why they’re so good

It’s work that you do once, that you continuously make money off of. Different products do well in different situations (conventions vs. online, and then further, based on how you market/the specific groups you are marketing to), so products that may not do well initially may get a surge later on. 

Start with things that have low minimum order quantity and are relatively cheap to produce, like prints and stickers. 

If you are not breaking even, go back to some of the earlier portions of this and think about how you could tweak things as a small business. Ease of access is also very important with this; for example, if you only take orders through direct messages, that immediately shuts off all customers who don’t like talking to strangers. 

Quick resource that you could look through; it’s the spreadsheet of project organizing that I made a while back 

Licensing is when people pay you for the right to use your work on stuff they need to make, like textbooks or greeting cards. This is generally work you’ve already made that they are paying the right to use for a specified time or limited run of products. This is great because you’ve already done the work. I am not the expert on this. Go find someone else’s info.

“I am not physically capable of working much”/ “I need to pay the bills”

Guess who got a hand injury Sept 2020 that messed me up that entire month! I had a couple jobs going at the time that I was terrified of losing, but they were quite understanding when I told them I needed to heal. So:  Express your needs as early as you know you need them. Also do lots of stretches and rest your hands whenever you feel anything off; this will save your health later. Like, the potential of a couple months of no income was preferable over losing use of my hands for the rest of my life.

This continues to apply if you have any other life situation. Ask for extra time. Ask for clarification. If you tell people ahead of time, folks are often quite understanding. Know how much you are capable of working and do your best not to overdo it. (I am.. bad at this)

Do what MAKES SENSE for your situation. If doing art currently earns you less money than organizing spreadsheets, then do that for now, and whenever you have the energy, break down some of the tips above into actionable tiny chunks, and slowly work at em. 

The original ask I got in 2019 mentioned ‘knowing you’re not good enough yet’. Most artists experience imposter syndrome & self-doubt—the important thing is to do your best, and if anything, attempt to channel the confidence of a mediocre white man. If he can apply to this job/charge hella money for Not Much, then so can you! 

Check out this Art Director tumblr for more advice!

Danichuatico’s Literary Agent guide

Kikidoodle’s Shop Shipping Tutorial

Best of luck!

–

Once again disclaimer this post is just the ramblings of a man procrastinating on other things that need to be done. I’ve Long Posted my own post so that it turns into mush in my brain if I try to read it, but I wrote this so I should know this content. If you got down here, congrats. Here’s a shrimp drawing.

Yee Ha. 

My reference post tag My tip jar

[sockablock]

(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)

— — —

The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.

To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.

Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!

Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.

Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.

"Should I get my staff?"

Yasha shrugs. She usually does.

"I'll grab it. Down in five."

Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.

Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.

Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.

“We do not have to—” 

She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”

Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.

“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”

Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”

This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.

Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.

Beau wants to win.

She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.

Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—

The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—

Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—

Halts.

It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.

Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.

“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”

Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.

“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”

She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—

But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down. 

“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”

A frantic shake.

“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows. 

There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.

“I’m...okay. I am okay.”

Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”

“I’m so—”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.

“Er...what?”

She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”

She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.

Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.

“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:

“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”

“What? Oh—” 

“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”

“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”

She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?

She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”

She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say. 

But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”

Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”

“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”

“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”

She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.

“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”

“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.” 

Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.

“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”

This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.

She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.

“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”

Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.

“I...do, yes, I remember that.”

“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”

Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.

“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”

“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”

She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.

“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”

Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.

Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—

“I am, aren’t I?”

Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.

It’s getting to be familiar.

Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”

She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”

Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”

“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”

“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”

Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.

“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.

“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”

“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”

Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again. 

“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”

She stands up, and sticks out a hand. 

Yasha takes it.

“Okay. I like juice.”

— — — 

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

[livesincerely]

inevitability

Part 5 of the Domestic AU (found here)

Also on Ao3

00000

“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest. 

Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.

Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table. 

“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”

“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”

“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.

“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”

There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.

He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.

I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.

“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.

“It’s a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet⁠—”

“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”

“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.

Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.

“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”

“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything⁠—”

“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”

Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”

Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the frank truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper. 

“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if⁠,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”

“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it⁠—”

“Tony,” Jack groans.

“—coming to the perfectly reasonable conclusion that you’re together⁠—”

“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.

“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots⁠—”

Jack covers his face with his hands.

“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”

Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”

“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”

“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”

“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-Choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”

“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.

“We will talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”

There’s a moment of blessed silence. 

Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”

“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—

“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”

“—So go away,” Jack finishes.

Tony’s mouth falls open.

“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”

“But I really feel like this is the kind of conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication⁠—”

“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope. 

Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it⁠—”

“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just⁠— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”

“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should⁠—”

“Tonio, juro por Dios—”

“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mulish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”

Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”

He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.

“Charlie.”

“But my food!”

“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.

Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”

“Charlie.”

“Going!”

Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.

“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”

Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.

“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments.

“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb gently over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”

“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He was raised by you.”

“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation,’' he echoes, shaking his head. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”

“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a wry little grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, huffing out a breath. “Didn’t even let us finish eating before he pounced.”

“It has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely holding back a laugh. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”

“Well....” Jack trails off with a shrug, because that part’s hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “Yeah, but he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”

“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”

It takes a moment for this statement to really register for Jack⁠, and when it finally does, it lands with an earth shattering boom.

“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.

“You want to marry me?”

This makes Davey pause. 

“Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” he asks, a confused little furrow forming between his brows.

“Stop answerin’ all of my questions with questions,” Jack demands, a wealth of feelings bubbling furiously in his chest. “Just— You’re serious? Like, you’d really just— Just like that?”

Davey looks at him, his eyes bright blue and utterly sincere. 

“Just like that,” he softly agrees. “If you asked.”

“Well, I’m not askin’,” Jack snaps. His face colors immediately: “No, I didn’t mean it like— It’s just, I don’t want to seem, I don’t want’cha ta think—“

Davey reaches up and gently presses two fingers to Jack’s lips, and Jack’s sputtering slows to a halt.

“Breathe, darling,” Davey says, and the tightness in Jack’s throat eases in the face of Davey’s warm, steady gaze. “What’s got you so worked up about this? I get that it wasn’t what we were expecting to have to talk about this morning, but you seem… upset.”

“I’m not upset,” Jack says.

Davey keeps looking at him.

“...Maybe I’m freaking out a little bit,” Jack allows.

“Talk to me,” Davey prompts, giving his hand a comforting squeeze. “What’s wrong?”

Jack licks his lips, then blurts, “You know that I’m, like, wholly and unshakably in love with you, right?”

Davey blushes, a dash of red pooling high in his cheeks and cutting across the bridge of his nose, his fingers curling even tighter around Jack’s own. 

“Perhaps not in those exact words,” Davey murmurs, smiling as he stares down at their joined hands. Even his ears have turned red⁠—it’s kind of wonderful. “But I had something of an inkling, yes.”

“And you know that if it was just about commitment, if it was just about wanting to, I’d marry you in a heartbeat,” Jack continues. “We could go down to the courthouse today, if it was just that. I’ve been ready for you⁠—for us⁠—for years, sweetheart. I love you. You get that, don’tcha?”

Now it’s Davey’s turn to go speechless.

“Oh,” he says. “I… that’s…” 

“But it’s not just about wanting to,” Jack says. “It’s not about being ready.”

“Then what’s it about, Jackie?”

“It’s about makin’ sure we do this right,” Jack explains. “‘Bout makin’ sure I do this right.”

Davey’s eyes sweep over his face, searching, then his expression turns tender.

“Jack,” he says, his voice full of affection. “You don’t have anything you need to prove to me. Not a single thing.”

“But I do, cielito,” Jack disagrees. “I need you to know that I don’t take you for granted. That you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That I’d do anything and everything for you. That I love you.”

He lifts Davey hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“When I propose to you, and I am gonna propose to you one day,” Jack says, intently, holding Davey’s gaze, “It’s gonna be special. It’s gonna be sappy. I’m gonna make sure you understand how absolutely, stupidly in love with you I am. I’m going to sweep you off your fucking feet, because you deserve that, Dave. You deserve all of that and more.”

“Jack,” Davey breathes. “Jackie.”

“So I’m not askin’,” Jack finishes. “Not yet. Not today.”

Davey’s smile is a beautiful thing. 

“But one day,” he says, leaning in to press their foreheads together, 

“One day,” Jack confirms, and he seals the promise with a gentle kiss. “One day.”

00000

Tag List: @yahfancyclamwiththepurlinside @corbinthecowboy @stroopwafeldetective @amillionandonefandoms

[novelconcepts]

You saying more childhood AU is possible with the right prompt is just...

More Tess. All of the Tess. Tess the morning after the party, lives in my brain rent free. The teasing. The knowing looks. The Jamie and Dani being so in love and unashamed and also oops we forgot the roommate. And Tess being the wonderful person she is and not letting them get away with anything.

It’s the fact that they think they’re subtle, that really gets her. 

Not that Tess is upset to find Jamie crashing with them the week following graduation. Of course Jamie is crashing with them. Where else would she go, now that Dani “it’s important to grow up and change and learn who you really are, or some such bull” Clayton has finally snapped up the hot gardener of her dreams? Honestly, if Dani let her walk out that door--especially after that first night, which, hello, gardener; these walls aren’t half as thick as they apparently think--she’d have forfeited all rights to sanity, and Tess would have no choice but to make her move instead.

No, she isn’t upset to find Jamie still here the following morning. Or at all. She loves Jamie. What’s not to love? 

Honestly, so much to love. If she didn’t love Dani even more, she might have to really test the bounds of this friendship. Particularly when she opens her bedroom door to find Jamie--hair rumpled, dressed in a half-unbuttoned flannel and a pair of boxer shorts--at the kitchen counter. Like, warn a woman. 

“Warn you about what?” Jamie looks blank, her hands prying open each cupboard with evidently-mounting disappointment. “You really don’t have any tea?”

“Warn a woman,” Tess repeats, hip-checking her gently out of the way and scrounging the supply of English Breakfast out from behind the stoner snacks. “Before you turn up in her kitchen looking all sex-rumpled. I haven’t even had coffee, Taylor, Jesus.”

Jamie blinks, taking the box from her hands. “O...kay. How was the rest of the party?”

“Not nearly as engaging as your night,” Tess informs her pleasantly, delighted when Jamie’s sleep-muddled expression lights up with embarrassment. “But an extravaganza in its own right all the same. Where’s my girl? I know you railed her into next week, but it seems bad manners to leave you to breakfast alone.”

“I didn’t--we--”

“Thin walls,” Tess sing-songs. “Like paper. Or, what, you’re English--parchment?”

“We have paper,” Jamie deadpans. Tess pats her shoulder, working around her to fill the kettle. 

“Good fortune really does smile upon you. Ah! Sleeping Beauty arises!”

Dani, looking only slightly more functional than Jamie, is emerging from the bathroom with an expression that suggests she, at least, is very aware of the acoustics of their apartment. It’s so tempting to tease her about it--Dani has this truly adorable habit of looking like she might combust if pushed too far, the red of her face complimented nicely by the gold of her hair--but Tess figures some things can wait. Lord knows they’re going to walk right into it soon enough.

But like--so soon. Like, she goes off to take a shower, and comes back to find they still haven’t left the kitchen soon.

“Seriously?” She laughs, watching them leap apart. It’s too clear Dani has forgone the idea of coffee and bacon for the much-more-invigorating art of pushing Jamie against the refrigerator. Not that Tess can blame her. 

“We--were just--”

“Right in front of my cereal,” Tess says gravely, shaking her head in faux-disappointment as she stretches over Jamie--whose hands are still rooted to Dani’s hips, the hem of Dani’s shirt dropping hastily back over her stomach--to retrieve a box of off-brand Lucky Charms. “No shame.”

They’re both making noises of disagreement, as though Tess hasn’t had her share of groping in the kitchen experiences to call on. She snorts. 

“Look, far be it from me to stop your, ah, young love in its tracks. Just. Keep it out of my bedroom, is all I ask. Unless...” She wiggles her eyebrows. Jamie clears her throat so violently, it sounds as though she might fracture something.

“Shower. Should. I.”

“That sentence normally goes in the other direction,” says Tess helpfully. Dani swats her back, grinning. 

“Got that out of your system yet?”

“Oh, not nearly.” Tess beams. “By all means, Clayton, show her where the shower lives.”

“I know where the,” Jamie begins to protest, but Dani is slipping both arms around her middle, pressing against her back to urge her toward the bathroom.

“That’s her polite way of saying if I don’t go with you now, she’s going to spend the next half hour fishing for details.”

“You still owe me those,” Tess calls after them. “Every last filthy one.”

***

They think the shower is noise-cancelling, too, Tess realizes about four minutes later. Jesus, these beautiful useless idiots. 

***

It’s the lack of subtlety masquerading as Chill, really. The fact that every single time Tess leaves a room, she can count slowly to ten, poke her head back out, and find they’ve picked right back up where last she interrupted. 

Step into the bedroom to change her clothes? Come back out to find Dani straddling Jamie on the couch. 

Take a quick smoke break on the stairs out front? Glance through the window to find Jamie shirtless, the unmistakable tread of scratches running down her back beneath her bra. 

Offer to run out for lunch? Spend an extra five minutes idly counting clouds, because fuck only knows the sounds Dani is making isn’t karaoke. 

“You two,” she announces, tossing the pizza box onto the counter with a flourish, “are going to break something if you keep this up. I mean, you’re at least taking hydration breaks, I hope? Do I need to bring you a power bar?”

Jamie has the decency to look slightly ashamed of herself, though there’s a definite grin beneath the hunched shoulders. Dani, selecting a slice of pepperoni-and-banana-peppers, shrugs. 

“Consider it payback?”

“For who?” Tess demands, delighted. Dani raises her free hand, ticking her fingers down toward her palm.

“Tyler, whose butt I saw like ten minutes before you introduced us. May, who you used to desecrate the kitchen floor. Carlos and Beth--”

“Liz,” Tess interrupts, “she goes by Liz these days.”

“--Liz, with whom you conveniently forgot I needed to shower before my presentation and took up the bathroom for three hours--”

“Okay, okay,” Tess snorts, groping for a dishtowel in some shade of off-white to wave. “Truce.”

“And that’s just this apartment,” Dani says cheerfully. She tilts her head to look at Jamie, whose face can best be described as aghast. “Back in the dorm, she used to sneak girls in after I was asleep.”

“You were a sound sleeper!” 

“No one is sound enough to ignore a bed frame breaking, Tess.”

“I...avoiding college was the right choice,” Jamie says weakly. Tess bats her eyes.

“You’re saying you’ve never dreamed of breaking a bed frame with me, Taylor?”

Jamie darts a look around at Dani, her eyes just shy of screaming. Tess is having the best time of her life. 

***

“Tell me honestly, though,” she says. Jamie gives her a sharp look, uncertainty obvious even as she reaches to accept the joint Tess is passing her way. 

“Really don’t think Dani wants me giving you a play by play.”

“Dani, beloved of my soul, was fool enough to schedule a doctor’s appointment while you were still in town. She knows what I’m about.” 

To Jamie’s credit, she doesn’t choke this time. She puffs once, twice, holding the smoke in her lungs an impressively long time before craning her head back and exhaling. "What am I telling you honestly?”

“You’re going to keep an eye on her, right?”

Jamie looks surprised. “Yeah. Not that she needs it, mind. Just. Yeah. Always.”

Tess sighs. “She doesn’t need it, but you know as well as I what that woman is like. Too good. Too fucking good for her own good, you know? Forgets, sometimes, that she can come first, too.”

Jamie offers a smile nearly wicked in its amusement. “Oh, I take care of that.”

“Yes,” Tess drawls, “darling, I can tell. You know, really relieved she never brought anyone home before now. I’m not sure my beauty sleep could have taken the abuse.”

Jamie laughs, leaning back and pulling a throw pillow into a loose embrace. “She doesn’t need anyone taking care of her. But...”

“But you can’t help wanting to, anyway,” Tess guesses. When Jamie nods, she takes another hit, lets the smoke burn in her chest. “She has that effect on people. Our girl would take a bullet for anyone, and it’s...impossible not to love her for it.”

“She’s the reason,” Jamie says softly, “I didn’t run. Reason I did a lot of things, some of ‘em really, really stupid. Sometimes I think everything I’ve ever done can be traced back home to her, one way or another.”

“That, my dear,” Tess says, “is what fools and songstresses alike call love, I think. Just...do me a favor, keep her from killing herself for those kids.”

Jamie nods. “I will. Promise.”

“Good,” Tess says lightly. “I like you, Jamie. You’ve got the hands of a sinner and the smile of a saint. I’d really hate to have to track you down and kill you for doing her wrong.”

***

For all the sex, and all the blushing that follows, it’s late nights like this one that really say it all. Nights where cards fade into lazy conversation fade into this: Jamie, asleep on the couch, her head resting in Dani’s lap. Dani, looking down at her like she’s never felt so at home in her own skin. 

And Tess, watching them both, astonished by the lack of fear in the room. The lack of distance. The lack of uncertainty. 

Dani, who has always been a nervous sort, whose panic attacks are so predictable on bad weeks, Tess came back from that first Christmas break with a laundry list of coping methods to offer--looks perfectly at peace. Her fingers stroke back Jamie’s hair, tracing her forehead, her nose, every brush of contact only seeming to sink Jamie deeper into dream. Dani has never looked like this before. 

“You’re happy,” Tess says quietly. Not a question. Not a challenge. Dani smiles.

“Part of me thought she’d get sick of it, you know. Waiting for me.”

“Who could get sick of you?” Tess asks, and means it. No one in the world stacks up to Dani, on a list of favorite people. No one in the world ever could. If Jamie really did fall ass over teakettle for this woman when they were barely old enough to know what love was, she couldn’t be blamed for it. Not for a second. 

“You’ll invite me to the wedding, of course,” Tess says, when Dani--eyes closed, fingers still tracing aimlessly--says nothing for a while. One blue eye emerges, her nose scrunching up. 

“Jumping ahead, aren’t you?”

“She’d do it here and now, if you asked. Shit, I could get ordained, do it for you. Always thought I’d look nice in a little suit.”

“You’d be gorgeous,” Dani says, without a hint of deprecation. Tess blows her a kiss. “And...yes. If and when, I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“As officiant?”

“I was thinking maid of honor,” Dani laughs. Tess leans back, smiling. 

“That’ll do.”

The silence creeps in again, the sleepy indulgence of post-midnight living that feels so perfectly suited to the college experience. Nothing else, Tess suspects, will ever be quite this again--the quiet feeling like peace, the weariness feeling earned, not crushing. Jamie breathes out in her sleep, one hand drifting to gently grasp the hem of Dani’s shirt.

“Gonna miss you,” Tess says softly. “And this one, too.”

Dani smiles, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It won’t be the same again, will it?”

“Nope.” And maybe that’s a good thing, she thinks. Maybe that’s exactly how it should be. Growing up. Changing. Learning who they ought to be. “But you’ll call.”

“And write,” Dani agrees. 

“And send me pictures of your hot gardener,” Tess adds. “Lord knows, it’d be a crying shame to forget that.”

Dani laughs. “Never.”

“You did good, Clayton. Took you a minute, but--you did good.”

She lets the silence settle for real, lets Jamie sleep and Dani doze, lets herself sink into the armchair. They aren’t subtle, it’s true--she’ll probably wake tomorrow to find they’ve opted for a quiet round of the most wall-shaking sex she’s ever heard in Dani’s room--but that feels right, somehow. Good, to see Dani refusing to make herself small. Great, to see Dani refusing to temper an emotion this grand.

“I love you idiots,” she says softly. “You’re going to be just fuckin’ fine.”

[shhhlikeme]

A/N: Feeling writers block so I thought I’d throw in headcannons with some of my fave boys that has been sitting in my drafts! If you want me to continue this with more characters, request em!

————————————

Intentionally or Unintentionally CockTeasing The Haikyuu Boys Because They Can’t Have Sex

(Slight NSFW)

————————————

So this is wah gwan/

Background for Understanding:

Your boyfriend was playing volleyball and pulled the groin muscle in his inner thigh. After several x-rays, he would be out a little longer than a month before making a full recovery. But the doctor told him that the boy MUST refrain from ANY and ALL sexual activity if they ever want to play again. The look on his face looked like he had just been told that the world was ending lmao. You snickered and hugged him. Reassuring them that “It’ll be fine, babe.”

But it wouldn’t be.

Because you were a little shit (unintentional or not).

Needless to say, they were having a tough time refraining from any and all sexual activity—

Here’s why:

Wakatoshi

“Y/N. Do you think this is funny?” Asks your boyfriend seriously as he gives you a disapproving look. You’d think he was your school principal by the way he was chastising you.

You feigned innocence as you pouted at him with wide eyes. “What? What am I doing now, Toshiiii?”

He didn’t blink.

“Must you practice your splits for cheerleading right here? In front of me? Wearing a thong? Why not go to the den.”

Suppressing your urge to giggle, you leaned further into your almost-middle splits as you flipped your hair—looking back at him over your shoulder.

“No, I want to be near you, Tosh.”

Your boyfriend scoffed at your response, unimpressed and frankly pissed.

“I do not want you near me doing that. Go. Now.”

You smile because as your giant serious boyfriend spoke he stared intently at your ass only. You could see the tent forming in his jeans as he watched you stretch.

“You’ll have much more space to do this in the den.” He added.

“Oh? You want me to go to the den because I’ll have more space, love? Or could it be because you want to help me stretch out elsewhere—maybe the inside of my pussy—but the doctor said you can’t?”

Toshi’s mouth fell open at your insinuation. Annoyed and undeniably horny, he makes himself shut his mouth again. You reached your hands forward in the stretch to give your man a better visual of your ass and you could hear him groan from behind you.

Ushijima made a move to take you upstairs before remembering the doctors orders and stopping. He reminded himself why he cared so much about that sport that was standing in his way from fucking his girlfriend to oblivion and tried to calm his anger at you for teasing him.

“I’ll go, then.” He stated angrily. “I’m going to Tendou’s. Tell me when you’re done stretching, and I’ll be back.”

You waved at your boyfriend happily as he left because he looked funny marching out with a huge boner sticking out from his front.

“Okay, baby! I will!”

Hinata

“Whoaa....” Murmured Shōyo as he watched you with wide eyes. For the past three minutes he has had his eyes glued to you while you devoured the ice cream cone he had just gotten you two from your fridge.

You used your tongue to lick all around the vanilla treat. Swirling your tongue up, down, and around, sometimes making a slurpy sound that sounded quite familiar to the boy who missed your blow jobs so much.

Mans sat there watching your tongue like he was in a trance, his eyes flicking from your mouth to his attention-starved dick then back to your mouth.

When the ice cream shrunk enough to be swallowed like your boyfriends cock, you enclosed your lips around it suggestively and met your boyfriends pleading eyes as you did it.

You finished the rest of your frozen treat happily, knowing you just made your boyfriend incoherent with lust.

“Mmmm......it’s so sticky........and tastes so good....” you sigh in delight as you lick your fingers of the white creamy sweetness.

“Shōyo? You haven’t even touched your ice cream. And it’s dripping all over your hand!”

After calling his name twice more Hinata snapped out of his trance, he looked over at his dripping strawberry ice cream cone that he’d forgotten he even had as soon as he heard your first slurp.

“Oh, Y/N. Here, please, take mine too!” He shoved his ice cream in your direction and you slowly take it from your oddly acting boyfriend.

“You want me to..... have your ice cream?”

Hinata nodded enthusiastically before he quickly wiped his hands clean with a paper towel. He leaned his head on his knuckles as he got comfortable, preparing himself to watch you swirl your tongue around ice cream again like this was his favourite Marvel movie!

“Okay, I’m ready.” He says with bright, eager eyes.

Actual footage of your boyfriend Shōyo:

“Go.”

Aran

“Babe. You had to pick this movie on your choice of movie night?” Your boyfriend wiped his face as a show of stress. He begrudgily stared at his screen and then looked down at you through the slits of his eyes.

Pressed to his side on the couch, you smiled up at him innocently.

“365 Days? What’s wrong with it? I think it’s interesting so far. Plus, Atsumu suggested it to me. He told me to play it on our next movie night!”

Aran clenched his fists under the blanket at your words, secretly promising himself to tell his best friend’s new girlfriend how many girls Atsumu has really been with before her the next time Aran went over there.

LMFAOOOOO

“Oh he did, did he? Atsumu. That angel.....” He grimaced. “Was this before or after you told him about the doctors orders when he was worried?” Aran asked between clenched teeth.

“Uhhh.....after, I’m pretty sure. But, Aran, shhhhhhh! It’s getting to a good part!” Aran watched your beautiful eyes light up as the two characters in the movie started fucking on the yacht like animals.

“Ouuu, baby. We should try that position tonight!” You quip, pointing at the screen then taking a sip of your coke.

Aran cursed his stupid friend. “I—“

“Oh right, sorry! I forgot you can’t, poo. But as soon as you are cured, can we try that?!”

Your boyfriend stared you down in mental agony as he pictured pistoning his dick in you mirroring the position on screen—only right now on this couch. His dick jumped.

“Yeah.” He sighed. “When I’m cured.”

“How long again?” You asked as you grabbed the remote to turn up the sound volume during another hot sex scene.

“Too damn long.” He rolled his eyes as he looked back at the porn-disguised-as a-romantic-movie on screen too.

Yams

“Auuuuuuhhhhhhhhh. Yesssssssssss. F-f-f-feels soooooooo g-o-o-o-d-d-d-d, Tadashi.....”

With a violent blush, your boyfriend gave the Furniture store worker a thumbs up.

“I umm.... guess she likes it.” Tadashi reasoned, putting his hand on your shoulder. He squeezed your shoulder silently trying to tell you to quiet down in the store.

Sitting in the turbo massage chair, you moaned some more, letting your boyfriend and the worker know how much you liked how it felt. Tadashi’s ears perked up at every sigh and moan you made. He couldn’t rid his mind of memories of you moaning just like that when you’re on top of him and he has a vibrator pressed to your clit. It was clouding his thoughts. He bit his lip as he zoned out thinking about the fun you two could have on this chair at home with a vibrator. Only a month longer from this stupid injury and you’d be extra sensitive on his dick with the help of this chair....

“—and the parts will be sold separately. Should I ring you up, sir?”

Tadashi was startled when his girlfriend slapped him blindly on the chest to get his attention back to the sales associate.

What is wrong with him? You thought as you felt your lower back getting kneaded. The man is standing right in front of him and he’s zoning out? Get it together, Space Cadet Yams.

“Huh?! Excuse me?! Sorry, what?” Tadashi rubbed his eyes. “Sorry, I was distracted. Can you repeat that?!” He apologized.

The sales associate smiled kindly.

“Sure thing Mr. Tadashi.....so, I was just explaining that the massage chair is the best of its generation. If you look right here on the remote I have— it has 8 brilliant speeds and intensity adjustments. Your girlfriend is on 2 right now which means that if I increase it to, let’s say, 5 ...”

As the associate spoke, Yams was pulled from paying attention to him as you moaned louder when the level setting increased. “O-o-oh my G-g-god.....Dashi y-y-y-es.”

Picturing you saying this while you were grinding on his cunt-buried dick, Yams knew he was on the verge of defying his doctors orders and just fucking you in the car....

The massage chair dug into your tense shoulders yes LORD���

“Oh b-b-baby. T-th-thats-s th-the sp-p-p-o-t-t..”

As a last ditch effort to save his volleyball career, Yams rudely snatched the remote from the employee’s hands, scattering to hide his new erection behind the massage chair.

He clicked a button on the remote to turn the massage chair off fully while blushing at the employees shocked expression due to being interrupted and basically assaulted.

“Um, sorry! We’ll take it!” Yams freaked out apologetically.

“😱 Yamaguchi!” You scolded your boyfriend’s sudden rudeness. “That was so impolit—“ turning in the chair to see your boyfriends dark blush that you recognized to be his horny face, you stopped. It only took one look at him for you to understand exactly why he just acted completely out of character and rude. It reminded you that you have been on this sex strike with him for far too long, ugh.

You stood up from the chair, calling the confused associates attention away from your horny boyfriend. “Um.... I can sign the paper work. Want to bring me to the cash?” You asked him professionally.

The salesman blinked at Yams before looking down at you. “Uh, of-of course ma’am. Follow me.”

As you two walked away Yams’ top half collapsed on the head rest of the chair. He tried to will his hard member to soften but with the massage chair currently under his skin and so close to him, he couldn’t get your vibrated moans out of his head.

He decided that a stroll through the store’s bathroom section might help.

Ya, that would definitely help.

Akaashi

“I know what you’re doing.” Your boyfriend deadpanned as you showed up late to dinner wearing an extremely low cut dress in the chest area. Your breasts could stop traffic in that and you had only just taken off your trench coat after you and Akaashi sat down so he and the female server were basically the only ones who got an eyeful the entire night.

“I like this dress, Kashi. Don’t you? Can you pass me the salad, please?”

Challenging you with his eyes and trying his best not to look down at your remarkable chest, Akaashi reached over to share you some Mediterranean salad onto your plate like a gentleman.

“Say when.” He insisted.

You smiled and leaned forward to peer at his serving so that your boobs were pressed to the forearm he held the bowl with. Akaashi’s breath hitched. After sharing way more than you could eat, you leaned in close to his ear and whispered

“When.”

Your boyfriend’s eyes flickered down to your boobs before he adjusted himself to relieve the tightening in his pants.

“So, how is your injury, babe?” You ask sweetly, taking a bite of the salad and smiling at him.

“It’s fine. As long as I get to play again it’s manageable, but I believe—“

“Crap.” You pretended to be just as uncomfortable as your boyfriend sitting with a boner as you clutched the bottom of your boobs. You pressed them upward, re-situating them with purpose. Akaashi stared at your breasts openly as he took a shaky deep breath.

“What’s the matter?” He asked hungrily, calling back his composure.

“Oh, my bra wire is just bugging me. Boys wouldn’t understand......” You fixed them some more.

“I know what you’re doing, Y/N.” Akaashi licked his lips and watched you basically fondle your soft breasts in front of him. It made his mouth water, but he tried not to show it.

“Hm. You’re the smartest person I know, so I reckon you do know what I’m doing....” You quirked an eyebrow as you removed your hands from your girls and took a gentle sip of your water.

“—Is it working?” You winked at him like a trained seductress-assassinator in a major motion picture.

Akaashi leaned back in his seat, he undressed you with his eyes; also like a trained seductress-assasinator in a major motion picture.

You shivered under the insanely beautiful man’s intensive gaze, closing your thighs to relieve the tension you suddenly felt in your private area since he made you beyond horny with that look.

“It’s working. Yes.” The side of Keiji’s lip quirked up in a half grin. “But I’m fairly certain you don’t know that the doctor called 3 days ago and told me that I am recovering exceptionally fast. He gave me the green light for physical activity again. Sexual: physical activity. I double checked.”

The blood drained from your face as you felt a wave of upcoming pleasure wash through you. You had been waiting 23 days without sex and in a flash you regrettably remembered just how much of your teasing over that period your gorgeous boyfriend had to endure. How much he had to pay you back for.

Akaashi smirked ever so sexily at your shocked reaction. Good, he thought to himself. So you knew what was in store for you tonight.

You stared at him like 👁👄👁

“Waiter.” Your hubby called over your head in his attractive voice with an elegant lift of his glass. He dropped his eyes to look back at you with a panty-dropping stare. As you shivered again, Akaashi proclaimed the weighted words that would inaugurate a long night of screams, kisses, and earth shattering orgasms:

“Cheque please.”

[simp-ly-in-love]

Bummer Summer

Step 3 (18 y/o)

Summary: Jamie is having a hard day mentally and Cove is eager to help them out 

Words: 2100

Trigger Warning: I am basing this off of what a less severe depressive episode may look like. In this, Jamie is on medication and has been seeing a therapist for years. Cove is privy to their lows prior to this episode. If you are easily triggered by mentions of depression/ vague descriptions of dissociation please read at your own risk. And if you are feeling low and can access help, please do :)

You couldn’t quite put your finger on what had felt off when you woke up, besides the extra strong desire to stay nestled comfortably in bed. You had thought that perhaps you had just had a bit of morning laziness, that surely would pass after an hour or so of browsing on your phone. Doubt started to creep in around the 45 minute mark, and after the morning slowly crept into the afternoon, you realized that perhaps that wasn’t going to be the case after all.

The slightly bad taste in your mouth from morning breath did nothing to persuade you to get up, nor did the low rumble of your stomach or the dryness of your mouth. The idea leaving bed simply seemed like an increasingly impossible task for today.

Wanting to block out this uncomfortable realization, you pulled your covers over your head and willed yourself to fall back asleep. Mom and Ma must have been out for the day since they hadn’t been up to check on you by now. And you vaguely remembered Liz mentioning she was leaving for the day to meet up with some friends. On any other day, having the house to yourself might have been nice, but now it just felt lonely.

The staccato buzzing of your phone cut through the silence, and begrudgingly you checked to see who had texted you.

Cove:  Jamie Are you home? I haven’t seen any sign of you all day

You felt mildly bad that you didn’t have the energy to respond. But even that bit of remorse felt muted, far away somehow. With a sigh, you turned your phone off, not wanting any more potential interruptions. You closed your eyes once more, hoping to drift out of consciousness…

…

“Jamie?” A soft voice called out to you, accompanied by a series of light shakes to your shoulder, pulling you from your second nap of the day. A mop of green hair greeted you as you blearily blinked the sleep from your eyes. You felt your eyebrows pinch together in confusion, and the voice spoke again before you could ask what Cove was doing there.

“You read my messages, but didn’t reply. You never do that” Cove explained, sheepishly. It was true, you had always made time for a quick reply whenever you had gotten a message. “I got a bit anxious, so I figured I’d check on you…”

For a moment, silence filled the air once more, as you stared at one another. You could see the concern pooled in Cove’s eyes as he stared back at you. Still you found yourself at a loss and couldn’t find the words to reply.

“Did you take your meds today?” Cove asked, determined to figure out what was going on with you. His head swung to look at your desk as he spoke, searching to see if you’d taken your daily dose. His eyebrows raised slightly in alarm when he saw the day’s portion still occupied. Without a thought, he quickly crossed the room and grabbed your meds and a half open bottle of water that had been on your desk. He offered them to you, looking at you with a mixture of pleading and expectancy.

Using all of your strength, you sat up for the first time all day, gingerly taking the pills and open bottle from him. Cove smiled softly as he watched you take your meds and drain the rest of the water. He took it from you once empty and threw it in your trash can with ease before joining you on your bed

“Are you having a hard day?” He asked, and you replied with a nod. Cove’s lips parted, presumably to ask you another question, when he was cut off by a much louder groan from your stomach. After a moment of surprise he let out a little chuckle then said, “I guess that answers my next question”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment at the exchange, but were relieved to see nothing but a soft smile on Cove’s face. Of course he never would have laughed at you for something like this, but seeing him still look at you like he always had in your current state really helped any lingering unease.

“Tell you what; How about if you go get ready for the day, and I’ll go get us something to eat?” Cove suggested cheerfully. Though still muted, you felt your heart fill a bit. You could always count on him to take care of you at times like this. When you agreed, his smile grew wide.

“Up and at ‘em” he declared, hopping out of bed and offering you both of his hands to take. Allowing yourself to stretch your back first, you placed both of your hands in his and allowed him to help you out of bed. As you slowly shuffled around your room, grabbing clothes from here and there to change into, Cove offered some words of encouragement and praise. “Take as long as you need,” He said with a smile after dropping you off at the bathroom. You nodded in acknowledgement to him before closing the door.

…

You could feel a change in yourself as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom. You definitely felt lighter after cleaning up, without the feelings of shame and slight disgust weighing you down. Feeling fresh even gave you the energy to discard your old clothes in the hamper and make your bed before heading downstairs.

As promised, Cove was sitting at the kitchen table with two bags from your favorite fast food place and some tall water glasses. When he heard your padding over, he looked up from his phone and smiled. “You look great, Jamie!” he stated, with the same enthusiasm he had the night of the ORCA fundraiser. His enthusiasm brought a sheepish curve to your lips as you joined him at the table.

“I know it’s not the healthiest, but I figured you’d enjoy some comfort food” Cove rambled as he handed you your meal and one glass of water.

“Thanks” You said gratefully before digging in, not quite catching the proud expression Cove was wearing. You ate together in comfortable silence, and you had to admit it felt incredibly good to finally have a full stomach and some water in you.

The orange hue of evening sun was the first thing you had noticed once you had finally tuned into your surroundings. Your mouth opened in awe when you checked the clock in the kitchen and it read almost 7 pm.

“I can’t believe I spent the whole day in bed…” You mumbled with a mixture of disappointment and sadness. While your mental health was something that you had actively been working on improving for years, there were still days like today. Sometimes, it made you feel like all of the progress you had made had been thrown out the window.

“Hey, don’t be so hard on yourself” Cove offered, his hand reaching across the table to capture one of yours. “I’m so proud of you for getting out of bed and getting ready,” he added, determined to re-inflate your mood. He let go only to clean up after you both and refill your waters.

Having only been satisfied after watching you drink two more full glasses of water, Cove suggested you go on a walk together. Truthfully, you weren’t quite feeling up to it, but you’d felt bad rejecting the idea when you knew he was only trying to help.

The sun was almost fully set by the time you’d arrived at the beach, adding a coolness to the air and the sand. Kicking off both of your shoes, Cove offered you a hand once more. You took it, allowing him to guide you to the shore. The coolness of the water was more shocking than you thought it’d be, causing you to jump a bit at the contact. A light laugh escaped from Cove, who seemed to be enjoying himself well enough as he watched you begin regrounding with the world.

You stood still, letting your eyes close as you focused on your surroundings. Taking a deep breath, you smelled the patent saltiness of the sea. The cool waves still washed over your ankles, though their chill was less shocking to you now. The distant cries of seagulls and chirps of crickets could be heard. A light wind gently stirred your hair, slightly tickling you. And the warm hand in yours offered a calming, comfortable presence.

When you reopened your eyes, the sky had changed from hues of orange to purples and blues. You turned to Cove, your rock for the day, and drew him in for a hug. He happily accepted, giving you a tight squeeze in return, his cheek resting on the top of your head. The two of you stayed like that until you were ready to let go, and to Cove’s delight, you were beaming at him.

“Thanks for taking care of me today, Cove”

“Thank you for going along with it,” he replied cheekily, flashing you a broad smile of his own. He knew you well enough to know that sometimes it took you more than one try to accept help when it was offered to you, especially on days like today. He was genuinely thrilled that you had allowed yourself to be vulnerable with him enough to let him take care of you. “Should we head back?”

“Sure” you agreed easily, this time offering him your hand to hold as you led the way home. You walked together, hand in hand, in silence until about halfway home when a thought suddenly occurred to you.”Hey Cove… How did you get in?”

A deep flush fell over Cove’s cheeks at the question. His free hand scratched awkwardly at the back of his neck, his eyes averted from yours as he awkwardly replied, “I… may or may not have picked the lock at your window…”

“WHAT?!” You exclaimed, more surprised than upset really.

Flustered by your reaction, Cove panickily tried to explain, “The front door was locked- and I tried calling you but your phone was going straight to voicemail. Then I saw you in bed and tried to wake you but you didn’t hear me… So i just-” Cove fished out his utility knife and mimed picking your window lock.

“Sorry… Please don’t be mad” Cove pleaded, puppy dog eyes aimed straight at you. You could only shake your head ruefully at his antics.

“Maybe I should just leave my windows unlocked from now on…” you mused aloud, bringing a smile back to Cove’s. You weren’t quite sure if it was due to his lack of a punishment or because he genuinely found the idea appealing.

“Honestly, why didn’t we think of that years ago?” Cove huffed out in a laugh.

“True, it would have saved me from you waking me up in the middle of the night all the time” You teased back. By the time your joint laughter died down, you had reached the street between your houses.

“Thanks again, Cove” You said, simultaneously pulling him in for another hug.

“Anytime Jamie… I hope tomorrow’s a better day. And even if it’s not, I’ll always be right across the street” You felt your heart melt a bit at his offer, and you gave him an extra tight squeeze in response. You really had been blessed with the sweetest, and most wonderfully attentive neighbor.

“Goodnight, Jamie” Cove bid you. You did the same, finally releasing him from your embrace and made your way to your respective front doors. Of course you both looked back at another before heading inside, offering each other a smile and a wave before finally letting the door close shut.

***

Only when you were ready for bed did you recover your cell phone that you had accidentally left in bed when you made it earlier. After waiting a few minutes for it to turn back on, a series of buzzes went off in rapid succession.

Cove:  Helllooooo Earth to Jamieeeee Why didn’t you respond ? I’m going to try calling you…

Conveniently, you also had 3 missed calls

Cove:  That’s it, I’m coming over Reply if you don��t want me to Or if you do … On my way

You couldn’t help but laugh at his unreturned messages. If there was one thing you could always count on, it was definitely Cove cheering you up, you thought as you settled into bed, a smile resting firmly on your face.

[thiefswathe]

#FFxivWrite 2021    Prompt #1 // Foster

  ' Steady, now. Take aim. '

  It is just him and the stag — alone together in the dense green of the Twelveswood. The Keeper boy's ears swivel and turn around him, listening out as his leonine tail steadies and stills. He's balanced. Quiet.

  'You've practiced this. Y'know what to do.'

  The air is so thick with fog, he can hear the wood of the arrows clinking together inside the loose quiver as he draws back his arm. The season was deep in autumn. Still lush in its verdant, but now the leaves had begun to turn to bright yellows and oranges. The cold was settling in. Food was getting harder to find.

  'You've almost got it, Co'to. Just a little more...'

  Eyes bright as moonlight left the steady gait of the stag scavenging for his own meal. Instead, they looked to the creek, the glinting water from what few beams of sunlight broke through the trees. He needs to focus! Antelope was fleet of foot, Da told him. How many stripes had this one had? One, two...

  '— now!' And he feels his fingers loose on the bowstring. 

  A miss.

  The prominent horns of a great stag turned and met eyes with the boy long enough to sense the danger, and he's gone. Long gone, leaving behind the tremble of a half-eaten shrub.

  A heavy hand comes to ruffle the grey hair of the small kit holding the bow. The arrow… what arrow? It hardly made it but a few fulms away, veering off to the left. The boy had been hungry, distracted, but now...?

  A boy was angry.

  "That's not fair! You distracted me!" He shoves the figure behind him. Once. Twice! And with his ears back and tail lashing, he growls— "I could've HAD it this time —could've HAD IT!!!"

  "Yea — ? Then why didn't you?" The quirk of a grey brow lifts as he peers down at the child. "Th'Shroud's full of distractions. And every time, you always fail. Wonder why that is..." No point in standing around wondering. The figure turns, tugging the front of the boy's tunic.

  "Come. We'll miss th'caravan if we wait too long..."

  "— Co'a !!!"

  The young man stopped and turned back to witness the boy throwing the bow down onto the ground. Oh. Oh, this ought to be good. The older clanskeeper crosses his arms, "—throwin' a fit, are we?" A short breath draws inward, and he can smell the smoke of the campfires growing weaker. They must have been put out, meaning they wouldn't have much time. The hunt was never meant to take this long, anyhow.

  But a child like this one cares not for the essence of timeliness. In fact, he's resolute in consuming every last bit of it. The young Keeper then threw his quiver from off his shoulder, handmade arrows scattering as he kicked them in defiance. Hard.

  "Keep at it. Go on. You'll earn yer marks behavin' no less like a foolish tickwomp, for sure! How proud our mother'll be..."

  "I hate you. You're always PICKIN' on me!"

  "Am not!" He’s almost offended. Almost. "I'm tryin' to help you."

  A low growl, the stomp of an angry foot. "Gobshite! You're doin' it jus' t'be mean! Jus’ like you always do!" And now an angry boy is picking up an angry-looking rock.

  But the older Miqo'te was not afraid. Nor was he impressed. Amused, though? Amusement brings a laugh. Louder now when the boy rears his arm back with the intent to toss it. The young man who had aimed to be his target had seen over twenty summers and more than a few spats of combat and this angry little boy-child expects him to be afraid of a rock? A grey mark, proud and adorning his face, tattooed stretched across his cheek. And he calls attention to it with the tap of a finger.

  "Y'want your marks, Nico'to, you'll need to earn 'em. Ain't not a soul born in our clan who hasn't. Y'think I do it just so I can pick on you? Quite wrong you are." But Nico'a won't explain why. Not today. Gesturing to the strewn arrows. "Come… we'll practice again next time we make camp. New lands, new game." The hour was getting late anyhow. "Pick those up. Can't afford to waste 'em."

  Whether the boy followed or not... well, he had to, didn't he? Couldn't risk being left behind. He tried to defy, tried to stand his ground, but Co'to stood there long enough to drop the rock, begrudgingly lifting his bow and the bundle of arrows to stuff back into his quiver, kicking up the mud that had left his footprints before following his brother into the grass.

  They weren't too far off from their camp, but the trees in this part of the Shroud were so dense that it would be as if nightfall had come by the time they arrived. The ashen boy eventually caught up with his elder brother, who laughed once more, now putting an arm around him— "Little brother..."  

  ...Only to have it shoved off. "Don't touch me," the boy hisses. Though he may be small, a boy is fierce, and his words are bitter like poison.

  “Be angry all you like Co'to, but if our father saw you actin' a fool, he's not gonna take you to hunt. Now just imagine what our mother'll say, then..."

  "I don't care."

  "You will...~"

  "—Will not!"

  "I promise you. You will." And he means it, stopping dead in his tracks and kneeling down to better meet the boy, eye to eye, on his level. He turned Co'to by his bony shoulders to better face him. This was serious now, his ears falling back. "You have to. Ma said that we have to focus on gettin' our lands back if we have any chance at takin' back th'South. That means we won't be goin' on anymore hunts with Da. No more trips to Coerthas. No more ceremonies or childishness. No more whimsy, Co'to. You have t'grow up for a while now. We're in conflict with our enemies, you understand?"

 Oh yes. The boy understands. Better than most his age. Having a Matriarch for a mother meant that the world's weight held heaviest a burden to the family she leads. So, as angry as the boy wanted to be, his head falls, ears wilting. Co'a didn't need to see that his expression had softened beyond that mess of unruly grey as he turned his head away from him. But these boys were not weak, nor did they hide. So Co'a was there to bring those eyes right back.

  "Say it. Say it true. What's got you so angry?"

  A small sigh, "... Do we really need to leave? This territory is unclaimed, ain't it? Why can't we just make it ours?"

  "Because it's not home." And it's not unclaimed. "Y'know this..."

  "No, I don't! I barely remember home. I just remember it burning."

  "—And if we don't stop moving, the Trappers will just burn us out of this place, too. Same as last time." And the one before that. Co'a would have been surprised if Co'to could recall the wetlands or the great lake. Unfortunately, such was the case for most of the younger children. Clan Tjahaar had not held territory in the South in so many Turns; it was becoming something of a far-off distant memory. Even for him and his eldest sisters. 

  But that was soon about to change. The elder brother drew in a breath, releasing the somber expression he wore, "Y'didn't get the childhood I had. All this moving and poachin'. It's not how it's supposed to be. So that's why I have to be tough on you. And I'm only tough on you because there's still a chance that you can someday."

  Co'a rises, lifting Co'to so that they could move quickly as one. Another moon and the boy would be eight. He was getting too big to carry like this. They spent the remaining trip in silence, cautious in their journey back to where the camp had been established.

 But they wouldn't get far before the pair would need to hide. The sound of a movement not far from them sent the Keeper pair to the ground. Co'a kept the kit tucked safely against his broad chest. Ears up, mouths quiet.

  It's a language that neither of them knew, but only one could recognize. Co'a raised his head to peer up above the grass. They hadn't been seen. Not yet. A soft rumble in his throat, the purr of Huntspeak, "[It's the enemy...]"

  "[Trappers?]"

  "[No. Garlean...]" Enemy of the Wood. He very quietly rests his brother to the ground, letting him move out from under him to see the soldier in the distance. It's faint, but he's there. "See him?"

  Co'to had to follow his brother's finger as he pointed, but sure enough, he could see. They found themselves spying upon a patrolman. Adorned in fancy clothes and a sword on his back. Red. He stands out far clearer than any stag with all that unnatural red and black.

  Was this another test...? Nico'to was already drawing an arrow from his quiver. "I can hit him from here—!"

  "—Don't." A fast hand brings that bow back down. Co'a kept his eyes searching. So soon as the patrolman turned his back, the boys continued to move through the tall grass. "Your arrows won't pierce anything more than a stag's hide. Besides, there could be others. We must return an' inform Ma—"

  The hefty stomp of a large boot as they left the grass brought Co'a to realize that he had missed two imperials who now stood before him and his kit brother. Well...

  "...Shite." So much for a lesson in distractions. With no time to react, he slowly the older Keeper raised his hands in mock surrender as the soldiers began speaking. Neither of them could understand, not like they could understand much of what either of the boys could say, either.

  But wasting no time once Co'to was on his feet, Nico'a stood with him, snatching up his bow and a handful of arrows, and it is with fierceness and immediate reflex of a Keeper bowmaster that he draws back, letting loose one deadly arrow after the next. He's aiming for the nearest open space as they draw out their weapons — finding it high on the soldiers' throats.

  "Run, Nico'to! Run!!"

[madsthewordclown]

Fire Lily | Pt. 10

warnings: none ig?

Eventual Zuko x Reader

a/n: sorry it took me so long to get this up! I took some time with my family over the holidays and struggled a little to get back into Writing Mode. This chapter is very focused on Y/N, and at this point she’s basically blocking out thoughts of You-Know-Who. She’s got more important things to worry about. Also, I just feel like Sokka and Y/N would vibe. I think anyone who would end up with Zuko would have to get along really well with Sokka. Anyway, enjoy!

Fire Lily Masterlist

Y/N found ways to be useful and tried to stay distracted. It turned out to be very useful, having a firebender on their ship. And, as it turned out, Y/N could make a career out of acting. Even Toph said so, which Y/N felt was quite the feat.

There were, of course, whispers about her. Y/N wasn’t stupid. She knew that not everyone trusted her. But Katara seemed to, for whatever reason, and Sokka was slowly coming around. Toph already liked her well enough.

“Where’d you learn that?” Toph asked Y/N as they sat in the small room that they shared with Sokka and Katara in the belly of their ship. “I’ve been meaning to ask. I recognized your bending. Those are earth bending forms.”

“I wondered why they weren’t so… Ka-pow!” Sokka punched the air for emphasis. Sokka tended to be very goofy, Y/N had noticed in the past few weeks aboard the ship. But Y/N could also tell he had a tactical mind. Sokka was crazy intelligent; you could tell even from his nonsensical rambles.

“My father gave me an earthbending scroll when I was little.” Y/N thought back to the moment. It had been a surprise when he came back from a visit to the city. “He thought it might help me, even if it’s not the same kind of bending.”

Y/N didn’t mention that she spent most of her time neglecting practicing. She didn’t want to firebend at all for a long time. But in the past few weeks, the others had needed it. So, Y/N delivered. Casually lit a flame in her hand to trick enemy ships.

Y/N didn’t want to admit it, even to herself, but it felt good, even in small moments.

“Well, it sure does work!” Sokka replied, putting his arms behind his head as he leaned back on his cot. “You know, Fire Girl, I wasn’t sure what to think of you at first, but you’ve really helped us out.”

“Thanks.”

“Yeah, it’s been great kicking some Fire Nation butt with you,” Toph agreed. Sokka and Y/N laughed. There really hadn’t been much butt-kicking, but it was a nice sentiment. Y/N had mainly stood back and let the others lead the way when they’d captured the ship from Chameleon Bay.

Sokka had actually offered to spar with her with the hook swords. Y/N had declined for the moment. She kept the hook swords underneath her cot. She’d have to rely on what bending she could do, for now.

“And,” Sokka added with a smile, “I think we look great in the armor.”

It was nice, Y/N thought, to sit and laugh with Sokka and Toph. They didn’t trust her completely yet, and with good reason. But Y/N had a feeling that they could get there.

And it was nice to laugh despite their situation. Aang wasn’t awake yet, and Katara spent every moment she could by his side when she wasn’t providing the ship with fog cover. But here she could light the lanterns and take a minute to laugh. It was almost better than the tea shop.

Almost.

Y/N tried not to think about Lee—Zuko. She had to keep reminding herself about that. He wasn’t her friend, not really. He wasn’t from the Earth Kingdom at all. He was Crown Prince of the Fire Nation. A firebender. And apparently obsessed with hunting the Avatar, as Sokka kept saying.

The Avatar. Y/N hadn’t been there when it had happened—when the lightning struck Aang down. Azula’s lightning, and Zuko had joined her. Y/N’s sadness and anger was almost overshadowed by heavy disappointment. The boy that she had known was grumpy but kind as well as caring. She remembered the careful hand he’d placed over hers. Lee would’ve jumped out of the palace with Iroh, and she would’ve followed him. But Y/N knew Lee was gone.

“The armor isn’t very comfortable,” Y/N noted, leaning back on her cot and enjoying the feeling of her light clothes after a day up on deck.

“Sometimes you have to suffer for fashion, Y/N,” Sokka joked. “Speaking of fashion, I think we all need some new clothes. You guys stink.”

“Speak for yourself.” Toph reached over to punch Sokka in the arm. Y/N laughed. Sokka wasn’t wrong—she was wearing the same clothes that she had been when she went to the palace in the first place. While they had been washed, they had definitely seen better days. There were a few tears in the sleeves of her dress, and it was stained with dirt, and the neck was starting to stretch out.

Y/N was grateful that they’d managed to find her a pair of pants on board, although they did look a bit ridiculous with her rag of a dress over it. The apron she had was tossed overboard shortly after they had reached the boat. Y/N might have set it on fire first, but that was nobody’s business.

Y/N had trouble sleeping on the ship some nights. It was always rocking at least a little bit. But she had a cot and having other people in the room turned out to be a comfort. There was the constant rhythm of Sokka and Toph’s breathing, and then Katara’s when she would finally slip in after hours spent watching over Aang.

Y/N’s months spent traveling felt so far behind her, but she could remember when she had to sleep outside on the ground, sometimes in the middle of the woods, if soldiers were nearby. Luckily, lighting a fire was always easy, if not terrifying. Y/N curled up under her blanket and let the soft sounds of the ship lull her to sleep.

“You’re a liar. If you would have just told the truth I would still be here.” Y/N recognized the voice, but she couldn’t see it. Everything was dark. Her hook swords were in her hands.

“Why did you have to let me take the fall?” Jet’s voice whispered.

“I didn’t mean to,” Y/N called back, desperately. “I didn’t mean to!”

“Y/N, calm down!” Suddenly, her brother was in front of her, holding out a hand. Y/N looked down and saw the molten metal of the hook swords dripping down onto the dirt, handles charred beyond repair.

“I can’t,” Y/N’s chest heaved. “I can’t.”

“Listen to me, Y/N,” Bihun said, stepping closer. “I don’t have much time.”

Suddenly, Bihun’s hand seemed to begin to fade, bits and pieces of it seeming to float off into the air like ash.

“Y/N, look at me.”

Y/N finally tore her eyes away from the burnt handles of her swords and met her brother’s eyes.

“Boiling rock, Y/N. Don’t forget it.” Bihun’s entire right arm was gone now, grey bits of ash floating through the air. Bihun smiled kindly, and Y/N wished so desperately to reach out to her brother, to hug him, but her feet felt stuck to the ground. “Now wake up.”

---

Y/N awoke, sweat sticking pieces of hair to her forehead. She wiped it away. Y/N was startled as she noticed Toph standing over her.

“Finally, sleepy head. Up and at ‘em.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Y/N swatted, pushing her blanket off of her before standing. “Where are we today?”

“Heck if I know,” Toph responded, turning away to lead Y/N out the door. “That’s a Sokka question. I can’t see anything past this ship.”

“Am I up on deck again?” Y/N asked, changing the subject.

“You’re the only firebender we have, Y/N, even if you aren’t very good,” Toph stated in answer.

Y/N frowned at the slight insult, although it was true. She knew little beyond a few earthbending forms, but she was the only firebender on the ship. If they came across other Fire Nation ships, she was their best shot at convincing them to let their ship pass.

“Go get your gear on,” Toph said, pulling her own brown cloak over her head. Y/N was a bit jealous of Toph’s very lightweight disguise—the first time she put on the Fire Nation armor she had almost fallen over. She also wanted to puke a little bit when she saw herself in the mirror.

After a solid ten minutes of struggling—a great improvement from the twenty it had taken the week before—Y/N placed the heavy helmet over her head, opting to keep the face plate tucked away in a pocket for now. She didn’t particularly like having her face covered. It made her feel less like herself and even more like a Fire Nation soldier, although it did come in handy to have her facial expressions hidden when they came across other ships.

Y/N made her way up to the top deck of the ship with only slight difficulty. The Fire Nation armor was much more mobile than she had imagined.

Y/N blinked at the sudden brightness of the sunlight streaming down onto the ship. The open ocean was already enough to deal with, but no one had ever said anything about how hot metal ships could get with the unblocked sun shining down on them all day. Luckily, Katara seemed to be periodically dousing the deck with sea water.

“Y/N!” Sokka called, walking over to where Y/N was standing. He was also in his Fire Nation get-up, but he wasn’t wearing the faceplate either. “Ready for another day?”

“Sure,” Y/N deadpanned. “It’s too hot to function.”

“Where’s that fiery spirit, huh?” Sokka grinned, bumping Y/N with his elbow. “Get it?”

“No,” Y/N lied, trying to ignore the terrible joke. “Do you know where we’re at?”

“Not really,” Sokka admitted. “My dad tried to describe the general area to me, but I haven’t spent enough time looking at the Fire Nation maps.”

“I’m just glad we’re through that pass,” Y/N shuddered. “As long as we don’t go back there.”

“Yeah, the Serpent’s Pass is… difficult,” Sokka agreed. “Keep an eye on the water and let me know if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded. “Any news on Aang?”

“Not yet,” Sokka frowned. “But I have a good feeling about today.”

“Sokka!” Hakoda called from across the deck, waving an arm to beckon his son.

“Duty calls!” Sokka dismissed, turning and leaving Y/N to look out onto the wide expanse of sea.

The one advantage of Y/N’s position is that she wasn’t usually asked to do many chores. Not that she would mind helping, but Hakoda had said that they never wanted to have to struggle to find her if they came across another ship.

The clear sky clouded halfway through the afternoon, darkening the sea beneath them and turning the sky a depressing gray. “What was that about a good feeling?” Y/N asked Sokka nervously as he came over, three scrolls tucked under his arm.

“It’s not storming, is it?” Sokka pointed out, sitting down on the floor of the ship, armor clanking. “Look at these maps with me.”

Y/N hesitantly took a seat next to him, sliding the helmet off of her head to wipe the sweat from her brow. She enjoyed the cool breeze that swept by. Sokka took his faceplate out of his pocket to put on the edge of the scroll to hold it down.

It was a map of the Fire Nation, Y/N realized. The country was shaped almost like a loop of islands, Y/N realized, with the capital city of Caldera, home to the Fire Nation palace in the center of it all.

“We’re about here, I think.” Sokka pointed to a blue spot on the map, just off the shore of the Earth Kingdom.

“By the colonies,” Y/N realized, gasping lightly. She hadn’t realized how close they were to her home.

“Yeah,” Sokka said nonchalantly, before seeing the look on Y/N’s face. “Are you okay?”

“I hadn’t realized we were this close. I used to live there.” Y/N pointed to another spot on the map, her finger nearly touching Sokka’s on the scroll. “Just a handful of miles north.”

Y/N stood, looking to the north. Land was just barely visible in the distance. Somewhere on that piece of land, a little way inland, was her parents’ home. She briefly wondered if they were still there.

“That’ll be our first stop after the invasion, then,” Sokka offered. “Well, maybe not the first stop. But it really would be a good waypoint on our way to… whatever’s next.”

“What is next, Sokka?” Y/N asked. She surprised herself with the question. She realized none of them knew what a life without the war was like. Even when Y/N was too young to be aware of it, it had affected her.

“I’m not sure,” Sokka admitted, looking at Y/N with kind eyes. “But’s it going to be awesome.”

“Do you know what ‘boiling rock,’ might mean?” Y/N looked back down at the map. It was silly, her dream wasn’t real. But weirder things could happen, she was sure.

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s a landmark of some kind. But it’s not on this map.” Sokka recognized Y/N’s expression fall. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Y/N assured him. “Just thought I’d heard of it somewhere.”

---

Y/N was not prepared for when the Avatar stepped out onto the deck that night. She had been the only one who hadn’t gone to visit him while he was out. She felt like it was wrong. She didn’t really know any of them well, least of all Aang. And Katara watched over him like a hawk. Y/N felt like she needed the privacy.

Y/N also did not take into account how Aang might react when she casually lit a torch for Hakoda with her firebending. She hadn’t thought of how backwards the Avatar’s world would seem when he first awoke. It was weird for all of them, but at least they were conscious for most of it.

Y/N sat with Sokka and Toph as Katara spoke with Aang and brought him back inside for another healing session.

When the Avatar resurfaced again, Sokka brought Y/N and Toph over to where Aang and Katara were sitting to explain the invasion plan.

“We’re working on a modified version,” Hakoda added.

“It’s Sokka’s plan,” Katara snapped before turning back to Aang. Y/N had sensed some tension between Katara and her father since arriving on the ship—she had seen the other girl storm off a few times. It appeared that she wasn’t wrong.

“Yes, Sokka’s plan,” Hakoda looked at his daughter out of the corner of his eye, a confused look on his face. “We can’t execute a massive invasion without the Earth Kingdom’s army, but the Fire Nation is still vulnerable.”

“So, we’re planning a smaller invasion,” Sokka explained. “Just a ragtag team of our friends and allies. We’ve already found Pipsqueak and the Duke.”

Pipsqueak and the Duke waved from where they were chowing down on noodles a little way across the ship.

“And our biggest advantage is we have a secret… you!”

“Me?” Aang blinked.

“Yep!” Sokka said proudly. “The whole world thinks you’re dead!”

Aang’s face paled. The Avatar stood quickly and ran to the side of the ship. Y/N wondered if he was about to be seasick over the side. She averted her eyes. Sokka stood to go and reassure Aang.

Y/N looked out over the ocean on the other side of the ship and noticed the shadow approaching. “Hey, there’s a ship!” Y/N called. Sokka and Aang turned around to look.

“I’ve got this.” Aang’s glider snapped open. “The Avatar is back.”

“Wait!” Katara rushed to Aang’s side. “Remember, they don’t know we’re not Fire Nation.”

“We’ve got it,” Hakoda said, putting a hand on Y/N’s shoulder.

“I hate not being able to do anything,” Aang muttered.

“Don’t worry, buddy,” Sokka reassured him. “We’ve got a firebender on our side.”

“What?!?” Aang looked around frantically. Y/N gave a shy wave. She’d have to explain that later.

Katara helped Aang and the others get below deck as the ship came into view. A man in a uniform matching Y/N and Hakoda’s called out to them. Y/N took the faceplate out of her pocket and slid it into place.

“Commander, why are you off course? All Western fleet ships are to be moving toward Ba Sing Se to support the occupation.”

“We’re from the Eastern Fleet, actually,” Hakoda corrected. “We’re delivering cargo.”

“Nice of Admiral Chan to let us know…” The Fire Nation commander replied. Y/N got a sinking feeling. They weren’t convinced.

“Are you questioning my authority?” Y/N called out, praying to the Spirits that she sounded confident and in-charge.

“Who exactly are you?” The commander questioned. Y/N thought of a lie—a Fire Nation name she had heard from home.

“Captain Yai,” Y/N replied as smoothly as she could manage. “And who are you?”

“Commander Muso,” the man replied. “I didn’t know Admiral Yai had a daughter.”

“I didn’t know our army promoted insolent men to command,” Y/N answered.

“I didn’t know our army promoted a girl to command,” Muso sneered. Y/N dared to light a fire in her palm and watched as Muso recoiled.

“I would hate to have to issue a challenge, Commander. Be on your way.”

“Yes, of course, ma’am.”

“Captain,” Y/N corrected.

“Yes, Captain,” Muso amended glumly, motioning to his men. Before long, the Fire Nation ship was pulling away. Y/N let out a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

“That was awesome, Y/N!” Toph cried as the others emerged from below deck.

“Thanks.” Y/N smiled.

“And that was a really lucky guess with Admiral Yai,” Sokka added.

“I know!” Y/N felt the excitement catch up to her. She had been pretty cool.

“Nice work, Captain,” Hakoda praised, giving Y/N a pat on the shoulder. Y/N smiled as the Fire Nation ship faded out of sight.

Fire Lily Masterlist

taglist: @kaylove12, @akariblue, @wolfiemichele, @aquatickanye, @sunflowerr-mami

[our-wargame]

when you say nothing at all

Summary: Dazai isn't called a genius for nothing. No one can self-sabotage better than he can.

Relationships: Dazai Osamu/Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs), Minor Characters, Sakaguchi Ango (Bungou Stray Dogs) Rating: M (to be safe. In reality it’s T except for the swearing and references to sexual stuff but there’s no actual sexual content) Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Additional Tags: Dazai Osamu is a Mess (Bungou Stray Dogs), Developing Relationship, Trust Issues, Slice of Life, Friends With Benefits, Light Angst, Self-Worth Issues, References of Sexual Content, As in 0 sex happening, although not for lack of trying on Dazai's part, That's Also His Biggest Mistake, I HATE THAT TAG BUT THAT IS THE FIC, Dazai's pretty trash but his greatest accomplishment, was getting Odasaku to love him Word Count: 2500 Notes:

co-written with SwordintheThrone (they have some ridiculously good shit, check em out.).

can be read on ao3

reblogs are appreciated ty

---

It's a shame that he has commitment issues, Dazai muses to himself. Because Odasaku isn't just the best fuck of his life, Odasaku is good to him.

Too good to him.

That's most of the problem. Odasaku will look at him, expression so gentle, so brilliantly sweet and patient and trusting, as if he doesn't think Dazai will rip him apart at the first sign he sees that as necessary. (Still, sometimes Dazai can stand it. Sometimes he even gives into it and the peace that comes with it hurts like a hell he could learn to adore.)

Is this self-sabotage? He doesn't know. And he's still fucking trash for pushing the issue away and ignoring it as he sends Odasaku a text to ask him if he's still not busy tonight.

Odasaku replies within the hour. I'm not, he confirms. Can I come over?

Dazai tries not to laugh, self-deprecatingly amused rather than annoyed at Odasaku's attempt to save him face. He's not that proud, he really isn't. 

He imagines if Odasaku were here, he'd tell Dazai that it has nothing to do with that. That Odasaku really does just want to spend time with him, and that's why during their last encounter, Odasaku casually, lightly mentioned the fact that he was free for the next week. Should they want to do anything. 

It is self-sabotage, Dazai comes to decide. Because no matter what Odasaku's intents were, Odasaku is going to end up in Dazai's bed, because Dazai desires it. And then Dazai won't be able to fool himself into either deciding the reason for this outcome is because Odasaku thinks Dazai knows himself well enough to make the right decision, or that Odasaku wants to give Dazai the choice to make bad ones.

Both options are better than thinking Odasaku just wants to fuck him. If he minded, which he doesn't, it'd be his own fault too. Everyone knows that you start texts with can we talk and not are you busy unless you want to bang.

Dazai closes his eyes, already tired of himself, even without having to pretend around Odasaku. He thinks about calling it off but that's rude and it'd make him look weak and it's all a lot more troublesome than going through with what he has so far. It's freezing but somehow, the heater is the one thing he doesn't have the energy to bother with as heg gets off his ass to fix up the apartment. He turns the TV on, keeps the volume nice and low on that channel that only replays old movies. Neither of them are wine people but that's what you're supposed to have for these kinds of occasions, aren't you? So he leaves a half empty bottle of sake on the coffee table. Lounges on the couch as he sips from his glass.

How classy is he.

A knock at the door. Odasaku knows it's already open and only does it to alert Dazai. But he still waits outside until Dazai calls, "Come in." It's so unnecessarily considerate of him, Dazai shivers. And hates Odasaku a little bit, even as he thinks about pushing Odasaku against the door and kissing the gentleman right out of him.

"Hey," Odasaku says as he closes the door behind him gently. He smells like takeout. Looks as rugged and handsome as ever. Dazai wants him so badly.

He moves his eyes to the TV as he puts down his glass so he can refill it. His hands are shaking, fuck. "Day go okay?"

"Yeah." Dazai listens for the sound of fabric shifting, Odasaku hanging his coat up on the hat rack. Soft steps signal Odasaku having taken off his shoes and switched them for slippers, walking light out of habit so they don't clack against the tiled floor. "And yours?" 

Dazai's half-distracted with trying to remember the last time they had sex for fun instead of thinking he needed Oda's body to make his own shut up. "It went okay," he replies to Odasaku, and it's a miracle he doesn't add, 'it's about to get better, I think.'

That would just be tacky.

He shifts on the couch, still a little chilly, but trying to signal Odasaku should come closer. 

"I brought you curry. And soup in case it's too spicy. Can I put it in the microwave?" 

Dazai blinks. His mouth starts curving up. "Odasaku, has anyone told you you're too polite."

"You probably haven't eaten." Odasaku easily ignores his teasing jab, placing the takeout on the kitchen counter but not quite walking behind it. "It's crab soup."

He hasn't eaten and yeah, he's a little hungry, and of course Odasaku knows all of this and brought him his favorite. But he doesn't like to eat before sex. It just makes him feel bloated and a little repulsed by himself.

Crab doesn't go with sake, he could try, only it does. He could try 'not in the mood for curry or crab', only Odasaku will probably ask him if it's okay to take a look at his fridge and make him something.

"I'm not hungry." He sips at his glass again. Isn't alcohol supposed to make you feel warmer? "Can I have a kiss?" He wants Oda's tongue burning up his mouth, wants Oda pinning him down and chasing the darkness out of him. It's a stupid thought. He humors it and waits for a reaction from underneath his lashes.

Odasaku's surprise is practically audible in the silence. Dazai starts to move over so the length of his gangly body stretches across the couch, then puts his elbows on the armrest and props his head up to watch Odasaku. Please?

Odasaku closes in slowly, but Dazai finds himself holding his breath, nervous anyways. He can feel his heart in his throat, feels it pulse when Odasaku bends down, warm hand sliding up Dazai's face, cupping his chin. Dazai tilts it up as his eyes fall closed.

And then his breath catches, when Odasaku kisses his forehead instead.

He blinks and Odasaku's already straightening. Retreating to give Dazai space.

"Odasaku...." That's not what he wanted, but-

Odasaku prods his elbow and Dazai takes the cue, pulling his limbs back and sitting up straight. Odasaku takes a seat besides him, their shoulders a couple of inches from touching. Looks at the TV as he says, "Can I hold you for a bit?"

He has to think about this one. Says, "okay," even as he thinks about how he doesn't really want to be touched, at least not if it isn't Odasaku pushing Dazai onto his back.

Odasaku shifts his weight forwards so he's sitting on the edge of the couch and able to comfortably reach for the coffee table. He pushes Dazai's  glass inwards- farther from Dazai- and then picks up the remote. When he readjusts his sitting position again, he's still sitting a few meaningful inches away from Dazai. And now he's left his arm stretching over the top of the couch.

It's such a date move, except it's them. Odasaku is doing this for Dazai.

He hates Odasaku a little more in the moment. He hates feeling inconvenient, because it's a reminder he cares about what Odasaku thinks. The desperation of his attachment- he's so fucking weak, it's pathetic. God, he disgusts himself. 

"Are you getting enough sleep?" Odasaku asks. Dazai is still leaning away from his arm, but he's not breathing as hard and so he supposes, this is good.

"No." He hasn't. Before they started their arrangement, Dazai would have answered that with a smirk, an 'is Odasaku coming on to me or am I still daydreaming?' 

The stunt actors throwing themselves across the TV screen are alright. If this were also back then, Dazai would poke Odasaku, tease and bet that he could do it better. Oda would consider it in his seriousness and Ango would scold them both into the next year. Everything's different now and he's not sure if he likes it or loathes it, even though having to ask himself which one it is, is pretty determining. 

Five minutes is how long it takes for him to finally calm down, enough to shift and holds himself against Odasaku's side. Odasaku radiates warmth. The rise and fall of his chest is steady. Dazai tries to ignore it. His neck prickles.

Some more minutes trickle by before Odasaku murmurs, "Can I take you to bed?"

"No," Dazai blurts out immediately, because he understands what Oda is saying, but the answer is no because it'd stress him out, be even worse than the little fiasco going on right now. He'd have to try and force himself to sleep around someone who should be a source of comfort and failing that would just be gloriously useless of him-

"Okay." Odasaku says, gentle. "No worries." A pause. "Would it help to invite Ango over?"

Dazai breathes. It would. He can put on a front if it's for people, if it's for friends. It's harder to put on a show if it's for individual people; he has to make sure their gears mesh together but they're so damn complicated. Odasaku more so, than most. 

"We should drag him out of the house a little more."

Dazai opens his mouth. It's not you, he wants to say, urgent, needy for someone else to know what he does. Odasaku, you're not the one making me uncomfortable, it's me.

"Maybe you can teach us how to make hot pot?" 

Dazai wants to yell. Fall apart out loud for a change. They're monsters, not shadow puppets on the wall, and they don't go away when the sun comes up or what their parents say it's bedtime, for real this time. Oda's trying too hard, and it aggravates him. 

Odasaku can't wrap his arms around him and make him okay. That's never going to be him. He's afraid that Odasaku still doesn't know that, and he doesn't know what Odasaku will do when he really, really understands this. Even if Odasaku doesn't leave, Dazai can't stand the thought of Odasaku suddenly thinking less of him. It'll be just like losing him.

"Dazai?"

He shakes himself out of it. "Yeah. Call him." He pauses. "Can I have the crab soup after all?" He's still not completely ready to hug it out with the idea of eating, but it'll give him something to do.

Oda rises. Dazai stares at the grace, the strength in the lovely curve of his back. He feels cold all over again.

Oda glances over and holds his hand out. Dazai stares at it for a second before he lets Oda lead them away, carrying the two empty glasses with him in his free hand. Dazai pulls away to work on transferring the takeout into bowls to send them off to the microwave while Oda runs the glasses under tap water, swishing the residue round and round before drinking it down and then washing them clean.

The smell of reheated curry overpowers the room. Oda watches Dazai drop into a chair and then watches Dazai plop spoonfuls of curry rice into his soup, stirring this way and that.

"Did you know," Odasaku says, and Dazai looks up at him. "You have happy-cat face."

Dazai sputters. "I'm sorry, I have what?"

"Happy-cat face."

"Odasaku," He purses his lips, but he can't stop his shoulders from shaking. "Odasaku, that's not a thing."

Odasaku keeps his gaze, the slightest rise of his eyebrow explaining yes it is because you have it.

"You're so silly. Did you know that?"

Odasaku hums. When he dials Ango, he places his phone on the dinner table. Dazai's eyes gleam as he shouts like he's from the next city over.

"Oh my god," Ango's voice is very grumbly. "Odasaku-san, please remove me, I think he broke my ear."

Oda turns off loudspeaker and brings the phone against his ear. "So when are you coming over?"

"Ugh, give a man twenty-minutes. I still have work to do."

Dazai throws himself into Oda's side, squashing his face against Oda's other cheek as he chirps, "Tell him all work and no play makes Ango grouchy. And that he has old-man energy."

"Tell Dazai-kun, I think his Brat Card should have an expiration date."

"Tell Ango, there isn't an expiration date on fun~"

"Tell Dazai-kun-"

Oda disentangles himself from his executive, passing him the phone and letting them go at it. Dazai sits back down, adjusting himself so he can bring his knees up to his chest and leave his feet on the chair seat. Even as he chatters away, he keeps his eyes on Oda, who moves to wash out the takeout containers. He reuses everything because he's an environmental dork. Dazai would be more of one if he wasn't interested in dying before the planet. Still, watching Oda so patient, quietly determined to withstand the overpowering...it makes Dazai soften.

"Hey, is Odasaku-san still there?"

"Nope." Dazai says, popping the p. "Odasaku is busy. Being perfect."

"Yeah, yeah. Why don't you two just get married already? Make it official and everything."

He doesn't recover as quickly as he'd have liked. "Ango, weddings are not good places to pick-up women. They're all crazy. And non-sober. And crazy. We'll find you your little lady elsewhere, don't you worry." He watches Odasaku shake off the excess water into the sink, wiping the counter dry and putting the containers to the side. Then he dries his hands, he drifts over to the living room and picks up the remote.

"Ha. Not that I wouldn't reject your delightful request to be your best-man, but are two groomsmen allowed to be each other's best man? I think so." 

"Has anyone ever tell you not to drink on the job, Ango?"

"Speaking of which, you'll have alcohol waiting for me, right? I had to train a new accountant today. If it was there, you would have fainted from the painfulness."

"Delightful. So. How much longer?" He'd really like for there to be someone other than Odasaku around him.

"That depends. I don't want to walk in on you two fucking."

Dazai sighs into the receiver. "It's not my fault. Odasaku has a really nice dick."

He can practically hear Ango roll his eyes. "Don't expect me anytime soon then."

"So. Fifteen minutes?"

"Yeah, alright. See you dumbasses then."

There's no immediate beep! Ango is waiting, letting him end the call. Dazai shakes his head. His friends are really something.

Odasaku keeps flicking through the TV channels, only looking up when Dazai leans over the couch from behind, gently resting his chin on the top of Odasaku's head.

"Hi."

"Odasaku's hair is really soft."

"Thank you."

"Odasaku smells very nice. Like mango-watermelon. And curry."

"Thank you." Oda sits very still so he can hand Dazai the remote without jolting him. "What do you want to watch?" 

Dazai breathes. In, out. "Anything is fine."

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Drifters ch.2 (spicyhoney)

Summary:  Edge doesn't exactly have a plan, here, now that he's hit the goal of getting to Underswap. Luckily, an unexpected person is ready to take over.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Violence, Rescued Child, Medical Experimentation, Babybones

Read it on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

Stretch had never struck Edge as the person to turn to during any sort of emergency. His laissez-faire attitude about life was one generally matched by his own brother and by Sans, but Red at least understood when some urgency was necessary, at the very least in the interest of staying alive. Unfair as it was, Sans was also given something of a mental pass for simply looking so much like Red and if he’d been thinking clearer, Edge might have chosen a flight plan to Undertale instead. Typing in the coordinates for Underswap was more an automatic reflex on his part than any direct decision; he was simply here more often and while he might not mind sharing a bed with Papyrus, putting it to use the same vigorous way he often did with Stretch didn’t have quite the same appeal.

So it was something of a surprise for Stretch to immediately take over.

Once it became clear that questions would have to wait, he got moving immediately, his slippered feet going far faster than Edge had seen before. In short order, Edge and the baby were wrapped in a heavy blanket that was ripped right from Blue’s bed going from the cheery rocket ship pattern. Red was firmly tucked into another, snoring underneath it before the blanket was even settled.

“i gotta hit the store real quick, we don’t have anything in the fridge for a baby,” Stretch panted as he made another mad dash down the stairs, this time directly to the front door. He didn’t wait for an answer, already kicking off his slippers and stuffing his feet into his sneakers, the door slamming loudly behind him.

Well. That was…unexpected. Edge might have more room to spare for astonishment and perhaps a touch of guilt over his assumptions if he weren’t so exhausted; such emotions would simply have to wait.

The house was silent except for the baby. Now that she was warming up, her little pleading snuffles were slowly resuming in volume.

He drew back the corner of the blanket, carefully keeping his hand out of reach of her tiny grasping fists before she tried stuffing his fingers back into her mouth. As uncomfortable as the gnawing had been, he was more concerned with her accidently hurting herself on his sharpened fingertips than her little teeth.

It was the first chance he’d had to really look at her since that first moment in the lab and he took the chance to study her carefully. Her eye lights were pale white, offering no hint to the color of her magic. Perhaps they’d stay that way, Stretch and Sans’s were white when they weren’t using their magic, or perhaps they’d change as she grew older and they would be more like Blue’s…or his own. It was possible, she was from Underfell, but there was no sign of that in her. Her teeth were blunted, except for the little points of her canines, and her skull softly rounded, giving her the appearance of chubby cheeks.

She was merely a child, a skeleton child, there was nothing remarkable at all about her, and Edge knew very little about children. That was a fact very quickly proven when her small face suddenly screwed up into a ball of anger and she began to scream.

“Don’t do that…!” Edge began, then trailed off, cursing his own stupidity. Yes, a stern talking-to would certainly calm a bawling child. He shifted her awkwardly in his arms, giving her into a little bounce as he tried to coax her instead, “Shh, shh, it’s all right. It’ll be all right, baby.”

The child was having none of his lies. Her hands were clenched into tiny fists, her little face sufficed with bright pink that had nothing to do with her magic and everything with the purity of her anger as she shrieked her rage for all to hear.

Exhaustion gave way to panic. LV maddened Monsters attacking him, Edge could handle, a howling baby was far, far out of his area of expertise.

At the other end of the sofa, his traitorous brother didn’t even stir, not even when Edge gave him a kick. He only lay with his mouth open as his snores competed with the baby’s screams in volume, and Edge couldn’t even accuse the bastard of lying; he’d used a lot of magic in their escape and was as exhausted as Edge, more so.

Tears were beginning to roll down the baby’s chubby cheeks and humiliatingly, Edge felt a faint prickle of his own tears. He hadn’t cried since he was a child himself, how ironic that it was another child dragging it out of him. That was all he needed, the two of them blubbering together on Stretch’s sofa for him to find, while his brother snored away, that would certainly be an impressive sight. Why had he ever thought for even a moment he could manage this, he knew next to nothing about babies. All he’d done is drag the child from one horrible situation to another.

The door opened just as he ran a hasty arm over his sockets, wiping away any revealing moisture as Stretch stepped inside, juggling numerous bags in his arms as he kicked the door shut.

“okay, back, sorry it took so long, the dogs dug some baby gear out for us, said they’d bring more later…woah, hey, what’s all this?” Stretch dumped the overflowing bags by the door and before Edge could protest, whisked the baby into his arms, settling her on his hip with a practiced bounce. “c’mon now, princess, got a broken volume control? you’ll be waking up the folks in new home if you keep up at that level.”

The screams faded into pitiful hiccoughs as the baby looked up at Stretch with wide sockets and when he gave her a playful little chuck under the chin, she let out a watery chuckle. Stretch grinned back at her. “that’s more like it, sugar butt. let’s get you something for that empty tum, yeah?”

If he hadn’t been so relieved, Edge might have resented how easily Stretch took over. As it was, in only moments the baby was propped up in a nest of pillows, gurgling happily as she drank from the bottle Stretch gave her. She was swimming in one of Blue’s t-shirts, the arms rolled up enough to let her easily grasp the bottle. Her eye lights were following Stretch’s fingers as he broke up a cinnamon puppy into bite-sized pieces into a small plastic bowl with colorful animals painted on the side.

Edge frowned. “Isn’t she too young for that?”

"nah," Stretch said carelessly. He slid from the sofa to the floor, long legs folded under him as he set the bowl in easy reach for little hands. “we’re born with teeth, may as well use 'em.”

"Nonetheless, the sugar—"

“relax, edgelord, these ones are meant for her age,” Stretch reassured him. “i promise, i’m not about to turn your little sweetheart into a sugar fiend on you. not until she learns how to brush, anyway.”

The baby was already inspecting the bowl, her discarded bottle close by as she happily stuffed bits into her mouth, smearing crumbs over her small face. Not that he’d expected Stretch would do anything to harm her, but the promise, unnecessary as it was, was comforting. It did bring up another point, however, ‘his little sweetheart’ was entirely his responsibility, he’d chosen this, and now he needed to find their path, in whatever direction it might lead.

Stretch was watching the baby eat and his smile might be careless, but his watchful gaze was not. The instinct to come here was the right one so far, Edge could only hope it remained so.

"I must ask that you let us stay here for a while," Edge said stiffly. "If not my brother and I, then at least the child. We…can’t go home right now." Or ever, but that wasn’t information that needed shared just yet. If he couldn’t care for her, at least he trusted that the Swap brothers would. Sleeping in the rough in Underswap would at least be relatively safe, certainly in comparison to their universe.

Stretch’s head whipped around, his mouth dropping open as he stared at Edge. "are you serious right now?"

The question stung. He’d assumed Stretch wouldn’t mind caring for the child for at least a little while. "Yes, of course, I am. She's an infant, she needs a roof over her head. She can't possibly—"

"shit, you really are,” Stretch interrupted, and his expression was torn between irritated and incredulous, “yes, dumbass, you're staying with us, why is this even a question? you ain’t getting off that easy. besides, you really think you'd be able to get little miss here away from blue when he sees her?"

Edge smiled reluctantly, already imagining Blue’s starry-eyed excitement when he saw the baby. "I suppose not."

The baby chose that moment to add to the conversation, offering a loud, razzing, “brrrr!” and spraying Stretch with a fine mist of slightly used cinnamon puppy crumbs.

“thanks, kid.” Stretch said wryly as he wiped his face on his sleeve. He crawled over to one of the bags and pulled out a stack of cloths, using one to wipe the baby’s face clean despite her vigorous protests, “so. you gonna tell me where the snow princess came from?”

"She's not mine,” Edge said automatically, then winced. “I mean, she is, she’s my responsibility, but she’s not mine, not in that way."

Stretch slanted him a glance, “yeah, uh, i saw you two days ago.” His faint smirk was fraught with memories of that particular meeting. “you weren’t hiding a baby bump under your shirt then. unless you not only solved the problem of getting pregnant but also how to bypass the waiting period, i figured she wasn't. sooooo?”

It was lightly said, but he’d seen Stretch’s smile falter when he was changing the baby’s clothes, peeling away her plain, sterile blanket to reveal the similar gown she was wearing beneath it. Not the cozy warmth of pajamas that a child should wear or even a borrowed shirt like the one she was in now, but a hospital-style gown with brusque ties in the back for easy access.

The story needed told, but Edge found he didn’t want to tell it. The scars he knew were on Stretch’s lowest rib were faded, scrubbed and sanded down until the numbers were barely visible. But they were still there, just like his brother’s were, and both were a match the fresh ones that were stark on the child’s own fragile rib.

In her little pillow nest, the baby was beginning to drowse and Stretch took the bottle, pulling it from her sleepy mouth and wiping away a trickle of milk. He tucked a blanket gently around her, not the discarded one from earlier, but one from the seemingly endless depths of those bags, soft and fluffy, cradling her tiny, precious skull in fluffy warmth as she slept.

But the pointed lack of further questions were a quiet demand of their own, giving Edge time to answer, but still needing one.

Edge slipped down to sit on the floor next to Stretch, wrapping up in the warmth of his borrowed blanket as he stared down at the baby. Watching the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed easily, safely asleep for perhaps the first time in her extremely short life.

“It started this morning,” Edge began, slowly, and kept his gaze on the baby, watching as she slept on, completely unaware of the turmoil she’d caused in his life, in all their lives. “When my brother said that he had something important to show me.”

tbc

[beware-of-you-98]

you and i (jj x emily)

Warmth.

It's the first thing she becomes aware of as she's sucked from her blissful dreamscape into consciousness. She becomes acutely aware of sunlight beating down on her closed eyelids and squints as she teeters on that edge between awakening and falling right back asleep.

She exhales softly, stirring in the sheets, light linen scratching her bare legs and crinkling beneath her frame. She unconsciously moves closer to the warmth emanating from beside her, breathing out a soft, content sigh before she forces her eyes to squint open. She blinks slowly to adjust to the morning light, one hand slowly coming up to swipe the sleep from her eyes and cementing her journey back into consciousness.

JJ brings up the blanket to her chin, snuggling her face into the pillow, unwilling to untangle herself from the confines of her really comfortable bed, at the warmth the body beside her radiates. She stifles a yawn with the back of her hand, tucking it under the pillows to support her head. Instead of moving and starting her day, she focuses on the woman still asleep beside her, a smile coming to her lips immediately at the sight.

Emily is curled up at her side, one leg bent at the knee and hooked around JJ's legs while the other sprawls out behind her, toes barely poking out from under the edge of the blanket. One arm is tucked behind the stack of pillows at the head of the bed, cheek pressed undoubtedly right above her palm underneath layers of cotton and memory foam. Her other arm hangs loosely at her side, fingers curled loosely in JJ's own like they had been the night before. Her short, raven black hair, streaked with charcoal, gray and silver strands, splay out messily over the pillow. Her pale, bare skin nearly glittering under the rays of sun that poke through the curtains.

Lips slightly parted as she exhales, chest rising and falling steadily with her breaths.

She looks at peace, content, all the stresses from the job gone from her face. Instead, she looks softer and vulnerable.

Ethereal.

JJ untucks her hand from the pillow and reaches out, thumb coming up to swipe at the moisture escaping the corner of the older woman's lips with a feather light touch. Her thumb hovers for a few seconds, just ghosting Emily's lips before she slowly jerks the digit back as to not wake her. Her hand comes to barely brush through the older woman's hair, heart clenching as she stares over at her.

How she managed to wake up without this for over a decade, she'll honestly never know. She's often still so shocked, rendered completely speechless that this is her life now--that she can and does wake up to an actual angel, and angel that is completely and utterly as in love with her as she is with her, laying in bed with her on a daily basis. JJ often finds herself wanting to pinch herself to ensure that she's not dreaming because wow.

Wow.

She honestly considers herself the luckiest woman in the entire fucking world.

Blue eyes flick across Emily's sleeping figure adoringly, tracing across the sharp curve of her jaw, along her nose and down her lips. The blonde tucks her bottom lip between her teeth with a light flush when her eyes land on the red-purplish bruises in the shape of her own mouth littered down the side of Emily's pale neck, further up than JJ had consciously tried to be. They were nothing a layer or two of foundation (and Emily's hair) wouldn't cover, the blonde reasoned silently with herself, but still.

Oops.

She snuggles herself closer to Emily's side, sighing out again when the older woman presses closer to her. She closes her eyes, body relaxed under Emily's hold, at how blissfully domestic about this is. She presses her chin to the crown of the older woman's head, willing unconsciousness to creep up on her once more.

She blinks back awake when the door to the bedroom creaks open, but she doesn't make any sudden movement to turn and see who it is. Instead, she listens for tiny giggles, the sounds of tiny feet on carpeted ground, a whispered "shh," before the sound of a box spring protesting under the sudden movement. JJ braces herself for the impact of her three year old and nine year old sons to barrel into the bed to wake the up and start the rare day the women get off.

When she hears nothing and when she doesn't feel her sons tackling into either Emily or herself—that's right, Henry and Michael are at Will's for the week—does she turn to see who the bedroom intruder is.

A small, tired smile spreads on her face at the sight of the all black feline sitting beside the bed, tail swishing slowly on the carpet. Lazily, JJ hangs an arm down for Sergio to inspect, clicking her tongue tiredly when the cat bumps his chin against her palm. " 'Morning, Serg," she mumbles to the feline, voice rough and scratchy with sleep.

She yawns again, turning her head to muffle it into the pillow before scratching Sergio's cheek. " What s'matter, buddy?"

Sergio sits slowly on the floor right beneath her head, blinking up at her owlishly.

"Num-nums?" she murmurs, using a higher tone to address the feline, hoping to gauge some reaction from him. " 's a lil early for breakfast."

Sergio just blinks again, tail swishing once on the carpet.

JJ hums quietly, pursing her lips in thought.

"Walk?" she tries again.

Sergio's pupils widen slowly at the word, tail twitching as he looks up at the blonde hopefully.

"You wanna go for a walk?" JJ elaborates more clearly, chest rumbling with a silent chuckle as the cat chirps in agreement. "Okay," she relents, finally forcing herself upright.

She carefully removes herself from Emily's hold to not wake her, looking around on the floor until she spots the older woman's t-shirt she had thrown the night before. She picks up the black cloth, pinching it up by the collar and shaking the fabric until the light blue silk bra tumbles to the floor. She slips it over her head, padding over to the dresser and finding a pair of boy shorts to slip on underneath.

She glances back over to Emily on the bed, torn between letting her rest (she needs it) and asking her to come along (the blonde knows Emily hates waking to an empty bed). With that thought in mind, JJ flits her way back to the bed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to the older woman's temple. "Baby...Em."

Emily groans softly at the sound of JJ's voice, stirring with a sharp, slow exhale as she wakes up. She lazily reaches her arm up, looping it around the blonde's neck and pulling her down for a kiss. Their lips move slowly against one another's, Emily slowly becoming more aware as the minutes tick by.

She plants a few more lazy, soft kisses on JJ's lips before pulling away, stretching her arms over her head with a tired grin. "Well, good morning."

JJ beams— she can't help herself.

"Good morning," she sighs dreamily, tongue darting out to wet her lips before she clears her throat with a shy smile. "Our oldest wants to go for a walk. Come with us."

Emily rubs her eyes with the back of her hand, impish grin on her face as she focuses on her girlfriend. "Is that my shirt?" she drawls playfully, pointing to the long t-shirt drowning JJ's smaller frame.

"Maybe," the blonde drags out just as playfully, reaching and grabbing both of Emily's hands in her own before pulling her up onto her knees on the mattress. "Sergio wants to go for a walk," JJ repeats softly.

Emily wraps her arms loosely around her girlfriend's waist, leaning up and pressing a kiss on her chin. "Sergio has no consideration for the time— it's six in the morning," she points out in a low, playful matter-of-fact tone.

"Mm, is that so?" JJ breathes out a chuckle in amusement, hands coming up to loosely hang around the brunette's shoulder. "You're an early bird," she points out.

Emily leans in and presses a series of wet, soft kisses along the blonde's jawline, making her breath hitch. "I am," she confirms, palms smoothing out on the plain of JJ's stomach beneath the stolen shirt. "I just was thinking I would spend my six AM with my head between—"

JJ playfully swats her girlfriend's roaming hands away, placing a soft kiss on her nose. "Sorry, baby, those plans are going to have to wait until at least 8 o'clock."

Emily bats her eyelashes innocently up a the blonde. "7:30 if I get the coffee ready?"

JJ bobs her head to the side, visually weighing the offer with a hum before grinning. "You do know the way to my heart, don't you, Agent Prentiss?"

Emily grins sleepily. "I do!"

JJ presses one more kiss to Emily's lips before hoisting her from the bed, making her stand up right. "Come on, let's take our cat for a walk."

"Coffee isn't going to make itself," Emily agrees, searching around on the floor until she finds her pajama bottoms, slipping those on before tugging on a tank top while the blonde secures Sergio in his harness.

"Hey, Jayje?"

At the sound of Emily's voice, so light and sweet, JJ turn with a soft smile.

"Yeah?"

Emily's expression softens, eyes shining with nothing but an expression JJ can only describe as completely in love. "I love you," she sighs out with a smile. "I really, really do love you so much."

JJ swallows back her tears at the sincerity in Emily's voice, entire body filled with warmth at the older woman's words. She really does have no idea how she lived before without Emily in her life like this, how she managed to convince herself for years that Emily could never feel for er the way she did.

Emily made her feel like she hung all the stars in the sky, as if she were someone so incredibly special and worthy.

JJ presses her lips firmly to Emily's hoping that she can convey even a smidge of emotions she feels for the brunette with the simple gesture.

She pulls away, leaning her forehead on Emily's before opening her eyes. Her breath hitches at the soft, loving look she's sure is reflected in her own eyes as she stares back into pools of warm brown.

"I love you, too."

[livesincerely]

im not feeling the best right now emotionally so i am here presenting you with a free space to ramble about whatever you want because your writing genuinely cheers me up so much

Hello darling!! I’m sorry you’re in a rough mindset, sending all the good feelings and well wishes your way 😘💕✨💗⭐️💕😊✨💗

So, I’ve been thinking a lot about that most recent, how would a proposal/wedding happen in the domestic au? prompt.

It’s so funny, I’d never really thought about a domestic au wedding until I got the ask, but now that the question was put forward, I’m finding that I have a lot of thoughts about it (because of course I do lol.)

I’m not sure yet if this will end up being a whole thing like the holiday fic did, but I definitely have a solid idea for a single moment/one shot that I’m excited about—hoping to get that finished in the next few days!

Here’s a sneak peek at what I have so far! Most of it is stuff you’ve seen before in that original ask but more polished, but there’s some new stuff in there too.... ☺️😉

00000

“So, when are you gonna get married?” Tony asks apropos of nothing, looking between him and Davey with keen interest.

Jack barely manages to keep from choking on his cereal. Davey, who’d been in the middle of spreading a bit of lox on a bagel, slowly sets down his knife.

Charlie aims a kick at Tony under the table.

“You’re asking them now?” he hisses. “I thought we were gonna ease them into the idea!”

“There is no easing them into the idea when it comes to Jack and Davey,” Tony says, his expression tight with the exasperation of the long suffering. “You gotta give it to ‘em straight, right from the get go, ‘cause they’ll never figure it out on their own.”

“Hey,” Jack says weakly, but he doesn’t have a leg to stand on and they all know it.

“So, I’m asking,” Tony determinedly continues as if Jack hadn’t said anything. “When are you gettin’ married?”

There’s a long pause where he and Davey just stare at each other, neither of them quite sure how to respond.

He gets this from you, Davey’s expression says, clear as day.

I know he does, Jack says with a commiserating look, holding back a sigh.

“Well?” Tony demands when the silence stretches on for too long.

“It’s probably a little soon to be thinking about marriage,” Davey eventually says, far more delicately than Jack would’ve managed. “We haven’t talked about it at all yet⁠—”

“Because we only just got together yesterday, Tony,” Jack dryly interjects. “In case you forgot about that little detail.”

“—And we should probably start with the question of if we want to get married before we jump to the when,” Davey concludes.

Tony’s nose scrunches up, obviously dissatisfied with this answer.

“Of course you’re gonna get married,” he says, as if this is plainly obvious. “You’re basically married already, I just wanna know when the wedding’s gonna be.”

“Um.” Davey’s gone faintly pink. “Well, like I said, Jack and I haven’t talked about anything like that yet. We’re comfortable the way we are now, no need to rush into anything⁠—”

“And since we literally only just got together yesterday,” Jack says again, a little more emphatically, just to make sure the point lands, “getting married right off the bat would be all kinds of crazy.”

Tony levels him with the flattest look in all of existence. “You’re crazy if you think you haven’t already been married to Davey for years.”

Jack’s voice catches in his throat, a little blindsided by the truth of that statement. Davey’s mouth opens and closes, the rosy flush of his cheeks shading a touch deeper.

“We’re not thinking about gettin’ married just yet,” Jack says once he’s steadied himself, in a tone that brooks no further arguments. “Dave and I will talk about it when the time comes, if⁠,” he stresses clearly, “we decide that’s what we want.”

“But what, exactly, is holding you back?” Tony asks, stubbornly brooking further arguments anyway. “Like, do you have any actual reasons?”

“I’m pretty sure that’s none of your business,” Jack snipes back. “Given that that’ll be a conversation between me and Davey.”

“I just don’t understand what the big deal is,” Tony says, crossing his arms across his chest. “Pretty much nothing would change, except that the next time someone assumes that you two are married, they’d actually be right instead of simply noticing what was so obvious that even complete strangers clue in to it⁠—”

“Tony,” Jack groans.

“—coming to the perfectly understandable conclusion that you’re together⁠—”

“Tony, that’s enough, we get it,” Jack says.

“—instead of the inexplicable reality of the situation which was that you were, in fact, not together, despite being in love with each other for eight entire years because you’re idiots⁠—”

Jack covers his face with his hands.

“—and given that, like, every aspect of your lives are already tangled together, it’s not really that big of a step for you to just go ahead and make it official.”

Jack sighs so hard he feels it in his bones. “If we promise to talk about this, will you please stop talking about it?”

“Eight years, Jack!” Tony cries, impassioned. “That’s half of my life! That’s more than half of Charlie’s life!”

“Do not bring me into this,” Charlie quickly interjects, “I am a passive witness and nothing more.”

“You’re such a fucking turncoat, Choo-choo,” Tony mutters with no real heat. “You’re supposed to have my back on this.”

“Maybe if you could ever actually stick to a plan,” Charlie grumbles back.

“We’ll talk about it,” Jack says loudly, interrupting their bickering before it can gain any ground. “Okay?”

There’s a moment of blessed silence.

Then Tony says, “So, like, right now? Or…?”

“Sure!” Jack says, throwing his hands up in defeat. “Why not? Clearly, I’m not gonna get any fucking peace until this is sorted—

“Finally!” Tony exclaims. “God, was that so hard?”

“—so go away,” Jack finishes.

Tony’s mouth falls open.

“What do you mean, go away?” he protests, looking genuinely shocked. “Why?”

“What do you mean, why? I’m not gonna let you sit here and fucking… moderate our conversation, dumbass,” Jack sputters. “Get out!”

“But I really feel like this is the kinda conversation that needs moderating,” Tony disagrees. “It’s not like either of you have a great track record for effective communication⁠—”

“Anthony Ethan Higgins,” Jack warns, nearly at the end of his rope.

Tony rolls his eyes so hard his whole body moves with the motion. “I am literally just trying to help, you don’t gotta get all defensive about it⁠—”

“Jesus Christ, Tony,” Jack says, completely and utterly done. “Will you please just⁠— Just go somewhere that isn’t here.”

“But are you gonna talk about it?” Tony insists, really digging in his heels. “Because if you’re just gonna not talk about it the second I leave then I think I should⁠—”

“Tonio, juro por Dios—”

“Tony, honey,” Davey finally steps back into the fray, far calmer than he has any right to be, and somehow, miraculously, Tony’s mullish expression softens into something a little chagrined. Jack gapes, wrong-footed by the sudden change. “I think you’ve made your point and given Jack more than enough heart attacks for one morning, yeah? So why don’t you go ahead and give us a few minutes, and I promise we’ll talk about it.”

Tony deflates. “Yeah, okay.”

“Thank you, baby.”

Tony shuffles away, mollified for now. Davey pauses, then says, “Charlie, that means you too.”

“But I didn’t do anything!” Charlie protests. “I’m just sittin’ here, tryin’ to eat.”

He takes an exaggerated bite of his bagel as if to prove his point, eyes extra wide and innocent.

“Charlie.”

“But my food!”

“Take it with you,” Davey suggests, very patiently.

Charlie looks as though that thought hadn’t occurred to him.

“Okay,” he says, scooping up his plate and scurrying after his brother. He hesitates in the doorway, then adds, “My vote is for an autumn wedding, if that counts for anything.”

“Charlie.”

“Going!”

Once he’s sure they’re both gone, Jack heaves another massive sigh.

“They’re such a pair of little shits,” he says, to Davey and the world at large. “Fucking hell.”

Davey takes a drink of his coffee, holding out his other hand to Jack in offering. Jack reaches over and laces their fingers together, most of his irritation slipping away in an instant at the simple contact.

“But he is right, you know,” Davey comments lightly.

“I know he’s right,” Jack grumbles, rubbing his thumb over Davey’s knuckles. “Don’t mean he ain’t a little shit.”

“Well, naturally,” Davey agrees. “He’s related to you.”

“Oh, please,” Jack says with a snort. “That little spiel of his was all you. ‘The inexplicable reality of the situation’,” he mimics, his voice landing in some strange imitation of Tony mixed with Davey, which ends up not really sounding like either of them. “It was like hearin’ your voice comin’ outta Tony’s mouth.”

“And it was a well thought-out argument,” Davey says pertly, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a wry grin. “His timing could use some work, though.”

“Ain’t that the fucking truth,” Jack says, taking a bite of his cereal⁠ and immediately making a face—it’s gone all gross and soggy during the craziness, because of course it has. He pushes the bowl away with a mournful look. “Didn’t even let us finish breakfast before pouncing.”

“Well, it has been eight years,” Davey says, and he’s definitely laughing a little now. “Guess he’s afraid of a repeat performance.”

“Sure,” Jack says with a shrug, because that part had been hard to argue with. More than half of Charlie’s life, Jesus. “But he was talkin’ like he expected us to walk down the aisle this afternoon. I mean, we can’t just get married. You don’t just get married.”

“Most people don’t,” Davey says, tilting his head. “But then, we aren’t really most people, are we, darling?”

It takes a moment for this statement to fully land for Jack⁠, and when it finally does, it lands with a boom.

“Are you sayin’ you’d marry me?” Jack asks, utterly floored, his heart pounding an unsteady rhythm in his chest.

“Are you asking me?” Davey asks, calmly sipping his coffee like he isn’t rocking Jack’s world, right here over breakfast, for the second time in not even two days.