#it literally says to put the card onto the stack

[dravidious]

There's this really janky card from way back in MTG's history called Ertai's Meddling

Nowadays, this wording just does not work within the rules, so its official text ("oracle text") has been updated to say this:

"X can't be 0.

Target spell's controller exiles it with X delay counters on it.

At the beginning of each of that player's upkeeps, if that card is exiled, remove a delay counter from it. If the card has no delay counters on it, the player puts it onto the stack as a copy of the original spell."

Much more modern and rules-friendly. However, on the card's official gatherer discussion page, there's one particular comment that is absolutely... Amazing? Infuriating? Dumb, let's go with dumb. You don't have to read all of it, mainly just the first three lines, but here it is:

There's a million ways to dissect this awful comment, discussions to be had about the history of the game's rules, and how tournament play works, and erratta, and that one time they forgot to print "until end of turn" on a spell, and the fact that nowhere on the original text does it actually specify that the spell doesn't resolve normally, but the funniest thing about the idea of "it stays on the stack" is that, even if you assume the card works exactly as written and does what it's supposed to...

Here's the rules regarding when you're allowed to cast a noninstant spell, straight from the comprehensive rules (important part in red):

117.1a A player may cast an instant spell any time they have priority. A player may cast a noninstant spell during their main phase any time they have priority and the stack is empty.

No matter how you look at Ertai's Meddling's text, it certainly doesn't create an exception to this rule, which means that, as written, no player can play noninstant spells while a spell is delayed with Ertai's Meddling. There's a similar rule for playing lands, so the game just kind of grinds to a halt. If you want to be SUPER literal about it, the game's turn structure can't even progress unless the stack is empty:

500.2. A phase or step in which players receive priority ends when the stack is empty and all players pass in succession.

So yeah. Go ahead and play with the printed text. Come up with all your clever combos and interactions that technically work. But just remember that when you play with technicalities, you play with ALL the technicalities.

[coquettetoji]

i need more bf armin if you can please🥹🥹

i’m such a hoe for this man so like

QUESTIONS WITH BF ARMIN 🎀

warnings: literally just gonna make you hate couples in love, i’m nauseous reading my own writing bc i want this so bad. a little suggestive but doesn’t get into it much

context: y/n, as armin’s lovely girlfriend, asks him a series of questions in her own little interview that she records on her phone.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

it was your average Tuesday night, and you with your ever so spontaneous ideas wanted to sit down with your boyfriend of 2 years— Armin, to put him to the test on a multitude of semi-serious but mostly ridiculous questions.

you take in a deep overdramatic sigh, staring at your boyfriend with a dead-set look in your eyes “so, armin.” you cross your arms in front of you as you sit criss cross apple sauce straddled in his lap, with a small stack of flash cards held in your hands. your phone was stood up by a box of paper tissues off to the side, showing both you and your boyfriend in the phone screen recording.

“yes, baby?” he answers you with a soft dazed smile, his pupils dilated staring at you intently, hands on your waist drawing small circles waiting for you to ask him the oh-so-serious questions, he shouldn’t be scared. after all, they’re just some questions, right?

you stare at him with a glare trying to look intimidating, “question one…” you trail off dramatically.

Armin stares at you with a stifled smile, trying to remain serious just for your sake and to make you happy for this little TikTok trend you want to participate in again. He leans slightly forward to place a small chaste kiss on your cheek.

“that was not part of the question, i told you to be serious.” you huff jokingly but he just smiles brightly up at you.

“i can’t help it, you’re right here in my reach and you’re just so- ugh..” he emphasizes with a fake swoon and a chuckle.

“okay, AGHEM-”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 1:

“what pet names do you call me the most? n’ what’s the favorite name that I call you?” you say sweetly. your eyes bore into his awaiting his answers while clutching onto your flash cards.

his fingers lightly tapped the sides of your legs, occasionally tracing small circles dazedly as he thought about it.

“i call you baby the most. i dunno what else. there’s sweetheart, angel, honey. momm-” he trails before you cut him off and stare at the camera with wide eyes. you clear your throat slightly side eyeing the camera before returning your view to him and his stupidly adorable dazed smile.

“OKAY! and what’s your favorite name that i call you, minnie?” you ask him with a tilt of your head, reaching a hand out to play with the tufts of his blonde hair.

he huffs, softly dropping his head onto your chest while wrapping his arms around you tighter, squeezing gently.

“mmm, i like everything you call me. but i think that one time i was uh like panicky and stressed and you called me baby, my heart kinda j-just like.. skipped. ya know? like what are they called— heart palpitations? in that situation it just made me feel really good.” he tilts his head up at you, his chin propped up, slightly rambling.

in this moment he really just looked like the embodiment of the cutest golden retriever ever.

you smile at him, “you’re just adorable aren’t you?” he reacts to this with a small blush forming on his cheeks shaking his head side to side slightly.

“y/n/n you have to cut off some parts of this video. i ramble too much when it comes to you i just start rapid firing shit out like i’m rapping.”

“it’s for comedic purposes. shush.”

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 2:

“if you would rather have me with the personality of your ex, or your ex with my body. who would you choose to date? choose carefully and think about what you say before you say it.” you tease him.

his eyes widen slightly as if you had just asked him the most life threatening question ever (honestly to him it could be).

“w-well..” he buffers. he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought or as if it’s gonna have an answer written out on it.

“i would remain single until you return back to normal.” he nods, seemingly assured that his answer was the right one.

you stare blankly at him, then at the camera, then back to him. “the audience is going to have to decide on that one.” you assert.

at this armin’s eyebrows furrow confusedly and his arms wrap around you tighter. “w-what? baby i don’t have much to work with here for an answer.” he sasses.

“you could’ve just said you would- you could like- well in the sense that.. yeah you’re lowkey right.” you shrug sheepishly.

he rolls his eyes jokingly, “can i ask you a question now?”

“if this is another question like gay son or thot daughter im not answering it.”

he laughs slightly, “no no no. it’s something different.”

you nod for him to continue, “what is it then?”

“uhhh can we turn off the camera for this one?” he looks at the camera quickly before returning his eyes back to you.

your eyebrows raised at his shy question, his gaze adverting from you and staring down at your his shirt that you are wearing.

“whisper it to me.”

pst pst pst whisper whisper whisper

you stare blankly at him after pulling the side of your head away from his face with a rosy pink blush now surfacing on your cheeks.

“s-so you see.. i can not answer that…?” you buffer just as he did earlier.

he giggled softly at your confuzzled expression and he squeezed your leg gently with his hand.

“mm see how you can’t answer that one either, angel?” he grinned smugly tilting his chin up at you slightly.

“oh shut up.”

(news flash: he asked you what position he hits it best in 😸)

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

question number 3:

you grab your phone, quickly clicking the .5 button as the phone camera zooms out in view, now causing armin in the view of the camera to look a bit—stretched?

he stares up at the camera, the angle making his puppy eyes just like that much larger and cuter in the process.

“can we not film me from this angle, baby? i don’t get to look at you properly with the phone in the way.” he huffs slightly.

“no.”

“yes ma’am.”

“anyways, next question and i want you to think about this in depth.” you nudge him

he hums along, “i’m listening.”

“what made you realize you loved me?” you ask him deeply.

this question causes armins mind to suddenly blank over a tad bit just to reminisce about the first moments he met you.

he stares up into the camera as you try and withhold a laugh at how stupidly cute the .5 angle is making him look.

flashback:

it was junior year of high school, and at your lovely age of 17.

the teacher was passing back the recent scores from your latest exams. high school was definitely hard but you always seemed to manage with your high grades, expectations, and your extremely competitive nature.

the only person who seemed to have always come close to you or beat you was Armin Arlert.

*insert sparkle noises here*

yeah, he was a little infuriating when it came to competitive aspects but his pretty face lets him get away with it—but definitely not when it comes to you right?

the teacher came around the corner and placed your paper upside down on the surface of your desk. feeling confident with the results, you flip it over to reveal the high score of 98 percent on the white parchment. with a giddy smile, you turn directly behind you in your chair to come face to face with Armin.

only to see him already staring directly at you with a dimpled smile.

“98. what did you get, arlert?” you boast to him while holding up your paper.

“really? i can’t believe it after your poor performance last time.” he teased still grinning at you.

“i got a 90 last time, that’s not even poor.” you roll your ey at him with your mouth slightly agape. “what did you get if you’re so smart?” you huff.

he hummed, his glasses shifting slightly down the bridge of his nose as he leaned slightly forward closer to you in his seat, “a 94, y/n/n.” however his paper remained flipped over and his forearm rested on top of it.

you glanced down at his desk where his veiny arms lay upon the paper, your tried to squint to see some type of number in red but his arms covered it.

you brushed this off, instead focusing on how you scored higher than him as an even bigger smile now appeared on your face. “hm, better catch up next time, arlert.” you nudge him.

“you already know i will, princess.” he nods as his he leaned his head on his left hand looking into your eyes.

you turn around in your seat and face back towards your desk as the school bell rings to signal the next period of the school day. “i’ll see you tomorrow, might wanna get back to studying a little more.”

you pack up your bags, proudly stuffing the 98% exam in your bag. zipping up your backup, you smile, happily leaving the classroom oblivious to Armin’s lovingly proud gaze, as well as his now-flipped-over exam on his desk that revealed a 100%.

flashback over

armin looked up into your eyes with you still in his lap, disregarding the camera shoved into his face.

“i think the moment i realized i would do anything to make you happy, even lie and make myself look worse, is when i just knew i would do absolutely anything for you.” he gushed.

“like you didn’t even know i lied about half my scores until like a year ago. i just loved seeing you smile because you’re so just— ahh.” he hums as he throws his head back slightly and dramatically with a toothy grin.

you cup his cheeks in your hands as you trail your eyes over all his features. “i’m honored that if anyone was my academic rival, it was you, blondie.”

“oh stop it.” he gushed. “but yeah, i just knew when i just felt that weird feeling in my chest every time i saw you happy.”

your heart felt as if it was going to explode, sure you’ve been with armin for a solid 2 years. but this has never really ever been brought up.

“and i also realized when i had the urge to throw jean against a wall when he was flirting with you.”

“okay well atleast chivalry isn’t dead.” you sigh, armin laughs before reaching up slightly to place a gentle peck on your lips.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

let’s just say the peck led to other things because your lips now were noticeably swollen and your hair was messy from armin’s hands running through it.

you pick up your phone camera that was absentmindedly discarded when the two of your guys’ small peck definitely did NOT escalate into a make-out session **blame armin.

“so g-guys.” you take a second to collect your breath. “that’s some questions that my boyfriend answered. this definitely will get me banned if i post all the clips but they will be edited so..” you glance at armin who drags his eyes from up and down your body.

“yeah. i gotta go.” you quickly blurt before clicking the end record button then immediately drop your phone back onto the couch, crawling back into armin’s lap and continuing where you left off.

“love you, love you, love you.” armin mumbles against your lips, clutching his arms tighter around your middle.

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

notes —

hi guys!! lets just pretend it hasn’t been 2 months since i last posted. i’m reading requests and im gonna try and put out as much as i can before spring break ends. thank you for all the love and support <3

also armin as a hot nerd is just everything i’ll ever need.

[https-florals]

banana pancakes - j.m.

word count: 2,347

summary: soft slow morning sex with JJ.

warnings: smut under the cut, minors dni!!! really soft fluffy smut, very slight dacryphilia (literally just mentioned in dialogue)

a/n: would have never guessed that outer banks would be the hyperfixation to pull me out of my smut writing block but here we are!!! likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━

You could never wake up in a bad mood at the Chateau. Even on the mornings after partying hard, the hangover always seemed a little weaker; not as rough and it would have been anywhere else. It’s like the place was laced with dopamine, a bubbly warmth spreading through your body the second you walked in. It was a similar feeling creeping through your veins right now, waking up with JJ’s face buried in your neck.

Laughter and the sound of cookware clashing together come from the kitchen. Somebody is blaring Jack Johnson, and you hum to the song as you try to extract yourself from JJ’s grasp.

He groans, shifting so most of his body weight is on top of you.

“J!” you manage to choke out, trying to squeeze out from under him.

“S’too early,” he grumbles, pushing his face into your chest. You can practically feel him grin against your boobs, and you roll your eyes as you finally push him off.

“You’re such a perv,” you joke as JJ rolls onto his back, hands behind his head. He’s so pretty in mid-morning light, you think as you watch the soft shift of muscle in his bicep. The ends of his dirty-blonde hair are so sun-bleached that they glow in the sun like pure gold, and you card your fingers through it like it’s an involuntary reflex.

JJ is still grinning as he takes your wrist and presses a kiss to the palm of your hand. “Morning, sweetheart.” He pulls you back on top of him, like he’s stuck to your skin with superglue. With his chest bare underneath your fingertips, you think that JJ Maybank is the prettiest boy on the cut. You kiss him, hoping to get the point across. It’s like pure heaven when his hands smooth up your thighs to rest on your hips, playing with the band of your underwear as he pushes your shirt- his shirt- up. You could never get tired of mornings like this.

JJ’s tongue has just slipped over yours when there’s a loud clanging somewhere in the back of the house, then someone shouting, “Pancakes are done!”

You practically jump off him, much to his disappointment, and yank on a pair of his boxers that’s resting on the dresser.

“Hey!” JJ whines as you slip through the doorway.

“I’m gonna bring you some!” you promise. Everybody except you and JJ are in the kitchen, you realize as you step into the room. The little galley- style kitchen is a little too packed, with Kiara flipping pancakes on one side, Sarah cutting up strawberries and bananas on the other. Pope is sat at the table with all his textbooks spread out, and John B is rolling joints across from him. It’s such a mismatched little group, but you couldn’t love it more. You snatch a strawberry from Sarah’s cutting board, yelping when she tries to pinch you in return.

“Look who’s up,” Kiara says, smiling as she flips two pancakes onto a plate. “If you’re trying to take these to JJ, I’m not letting you. He can come get them himself.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing the plate. “Do you wanna deal with a hungry JJ? Cause I don’t wanna deal with a hungry JJ.”

Kie sighs, but nods and puts two more pancakes on your plate nevertheless. You utter a thank you, then Sarah is piling fruit on top of your stack. “It’s sweet, how you act all motherly.”

“Freud would be so proud,” Pope comments, not even looking up at you.

You fake gag, Sarah bumping against you as she laughs.

Kie calls him out, saying, “Don’t make it gross, Pope.”

Maple syrup is your last pancake topping, and with two forks and some napkins in hand, you’re all set. You’re focusing on balancing the plate in one hand and your metal water bottle in the other, when John B shouts after you, “Remind J we’ve got a surfing date.” He holds up one of the joints, adding, “I’m even packing us a picnic.”

“I gotta get this study guide done,” Pope states. “Take your time.” He waves you off, and with that you slip back into the bedroom, just to find JJ sound asleep again. You set the plate on the nightstand, and crawl over him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “J,” you whisper, rolling your hips into his without even realizing what you’re doing. His eyes fly open, hands clamping onto your hips. “And I’m the perv?”

You sit up, frowning, but JJ keeps you where you are, hands like a vise. “I was trying to give you breakfast in bed, but of course all you think about is sex,” you scold, like a liar.

His expression hasn’t changed from that punchdrunk grin. “What kind of breakfast are we talkin’ here?” He’s proving your point and he knows it, but you can’t say much. You’d let him do whatever he wanted to you at any time, but the pancakes are warm, and you don’t want them soggy. You climb off him as he leans up, and set the plate in his lap. “You need like, real nourishment.”

“I could live off you and be the healthiest man on earth.” JJ’s grin is cocky, his hand not leaving your hip.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the little twist in your stomach, and take a bite of the pancakes. They’re perfect, and you force a bite into JJ’s mouth before he can protest.

“Isn’t that so good!” you exclaim, taking a few more bites before you give him the fork.

“Bet it doesn’t taste good as you, though.” He sets the plate on the bedside table, pulling you onto his lap again. JJ kisses you soundly, tasting like bananas and syrup.

“You’re supposed to go surfing with the boys,” you remind him as he trails kisses down your neck, and he pauses.

“Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“I got all the time in the world. Now do you want me to fuck you or not?”

You wrinkled your nose, answering with a “Fuck is such a harsh word.” But you’re pulling the blanket up around you and wiggling out of your underwear.

“Fine. Make love,” he laughs, and you can feel him twitch through his boxers. He’s already hard and it makes you smile.

“That’s just a little cringe,” you reply, taking his hand and pushing it between your legs.

JJ kisses you as his fingers dip into you, forever loving the way you gasp against his lips. “Whatever you want, I’m your man.”

“My man needs to touch me,” you state, grinding into his palm, desperate for a little friction.

His eyebrows quirk up, and two fingers slip into you quick, working you open. “Then who the hell’s fingers are in you right now?”

You slump against him as his thumb begins to circle your clit.

“You’re soaked, baby,” he groans.

Of course you’re still wet. It’s a little bit leftover form last night, from JJ fucking you hard like you were dying tomorrow. It’s also partly from the sun bouncing off his hair, the slope of his abdomen, the gravel in his voice as he sweet-talks you. “Think you can take it?”

You nod fervently, pushing his boxers down and positioning yourself over him. You’re still a little achy from last night, but the tiny discomfort is worth it.

That first push is always heaven. Your foreheads are pressed together as you sink down onto him, breathing in tandem. It’s slow and soft like a Saturday morning, all smiles and gentle touches.

“All mine,” is the only thing tumbling past JJ’s lips as he fucks up into you, his pupils blown.

You’re both quiet, all too aware of your friends still in the house, but the sex isn’t rushed. His hands creep under your tshirt, thumb grazing your nipple and staying there. You could never get tired at the way he smiles at each of your little noises. His head is tilted back against the stack of pillows, the muscles in his abdomen tensing as he fucks you gently.

“J,” you exhale, hands flat on the plane of his stomach. “You’re so fucking pretty.” You can’t help but babble on, practically drunk on his taste, his smell.

“Shut up. I’m gonna come in two seconds if you keep talkin’ like that.

You smile, and fall quiet for a moment as you kiss him. It’s open-mouthed and messy, sharing breath.

His eyes are wider than the moon and bluer than the aquamarine stone in your necklace.

He slips his hand between you, finger just grazing your clit. A almost pornographic moan slips past his lips as you clench around him at that first touch, and you do the same in quick succession as he rubs that little bundle of nerves again. His rhythym stays slow, and though it stutters a bit, it doesn’t falter. You like rough sex as much as the next girl, but something about this lazy morning intimacy drives you wild. You swear you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock, the gentle speed making everything so heightened. JJ feels the same. He takes his time with you, rough palms smoothing over every curve of your body. There isn’t a square centimeter if your skin that JJ hasn’t touched.

He deepens the pressure on your clit little by little, but still keeping the slow pace.

You’re a mess, whining and writhing above him.

“Come on, sugar. You need to come, pretty girl?”

You slump against him, with your mouth on his collarbone, and whine.

He tilts your head up so his eyes meet yours, and he shushes you softly. “Lemme hear you ask.”

“Please, J.”

“Fuck.” His eyes roll back as he bounces you a little quicker, rubs your clit a little harder. His touch slips away for just a second, and you groan, brows furrowed. “What the fuck, J?” It’s a little rude, and he smacks your ass as a little rebuke.

“You’re being mean,” he shushes as he sits up and pulls your legs around him. The slight shift lets him hit a little deeper, and your head rolls back. JJ has a cocky grin plastered on his face, and it just gets wider when his fingers return to your clit. “Feel good, darlin’?”

You can only get out two coherent words in between your stifled moans, babbling, “S’good. S’good.”

A knot begins to tighten in your abdomen, hot and heavy. JJ knows your signs all too well, and keeps pressing on.

“You close?”

Like he doesn’t know the answer. You nod, and he presses his forehead against yours.

“I want you kissing me when you come, pretty. Think you can do that?”

The task seems simple enough, but as JJ pushes you closer to the edge, your head keeps falling back, causing him to remove his fingers and use that same hand to push your face back to his. “I had one request, baby. C’mon.” His tone is playful, but it’s frustrating nonetheless. You’re determined to keep your lips on his.

You can feel him twitch inside you, and the knot in your stomach begins to unravel. Your mouth is open against his, breath hitching in little sobs, tongues meeting then parting then meeting again.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, and JJ kisses you hard, just in time to at least muffle your moans. He stutters inside you as he fucks you through your high, and it takes seconds for him to come crashing down with you. JJ has always been noisy, almost more than you at times, and you have to clamp you hand over his mouth as he groans a string of curse words randomly interjected with your name. There’s a lull to the movement of both your hips, but he doesn’t pull out immediately. You can feel the mix of you two slipping out, and you move off of him, grinning at his annoyed whine. “Just wanna have you sit on me for a while, babe,” he pleads.

“You have a surf date,” you remind him, kissing his cheek.

“Surf date, smursh date,” he mutters, swinging his legs off the bed and pushing himself up.

You drink in the view as you crawl under the covers and grab the plate of pancakes. His back muscles bunch and smooth as he pulls on his trunks and a cutoff tee. “Y’know, we could have slow sex for the rest of our lives and I’d never get bored,” you muse, taking a bite of pancake. They’re a little cold and soggy now, but you don’t mind that much.

“Yeah, but you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Don’t be gross. You’re not changing my mind on this, Maybank.”

He kisses you on the forehead, soft and sweet. “Let’s go out tonight,” he proposes, switching the subject seamlessly.

“And do what?”

JJ pushes the baby hairs out of your face, answering, “Let’s go out on the boat! I’ll bring some weed and snacks, and you just bring your pretty little self. We’ll figure out something to do.”

You give him a dubious look, but your excitement peeks through. “Why do I feel like that something is gonna be sex?”

“Well, I was thinking we could stargaze, but I’m cool with sex if you are.”

You punch him in the arm and he laughs, pinching your sides in return.

“J!”

“C’mon, baby, it’ll be fun!”

You finally grab his hands in an effort to keep him from tickling you. “We can’t have sex on the boat. Sound carries so bad out on the water. The whole island would hear.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Maybe I want the whole island to know that I, JJ Maybank, am fucking the hottest girl in Kildare.”

You push his head away and press your lips together, trying to feign disgust, but you’re blushing.

JJ kisses you and wipes the look off your face. “So, 8?”

“You’re such a freak,” you laugh.

He opens the door and starts to slip out. “Only for you.”

[dreamchaserguild]

We recently backed a project on Kickstarter and I wanted to ramble about that.

(This is not paid promotion and I have no association with the team making this project. This is just me gushing about something I think is cool.)

I grew up playing Heroscape. This game was my childhood. If you don't know what Heroscape is, here you go:

It was a simple tactical minis tabletop battle game where you make a team of different heroes with their own unique abilities. But what really sold this game was the landscape you could build yourself.

I used to have a table that sat out on our front porch that was filled with Herocape stuff as I constructed and deconstructed and reconstructed my maps.

And I didn't just have the starter set you see above. (Above is actually several starter sets. You don't get quite that many pieces from one box. I'm guessing it's three starter sets since there are six ruins, and Heroscape only came with two.) No. I had the ice set, the volcano set, the castle set, a Marvel set. The second starter set with swampy environment.

Heroscape was an amazing part of my childhood. Then Hasbro let it die.

They tried to revive it in the form of Arena of the Planeswalkers, a knock-off with a flat cardboard battlefield. But it got cancelled after two expansions. They're going to try again, but I have no faith that they'll stick with the Heroscape revival.

Which brings us to SOURCE.

SOURCE is a hex system made by indie-developers who themselves were Heroscape fans and inspired by Heroscape. Rather than connecting at the sides like Heroscape, the SOURCE tiles are held together by edges as you can see here. (I sure hope they don't mind me lifting the images from their kickstarter.)

A disadvantage to this is that you lose some of the modularity in being able to build in any shape you want. The advantage though is that it allows for terrain to easily be added and removed throughout gameplay.

(They're also working on special grip mats for those who just really want to build in any shape they want without being confined to shapes of the edges.)

And in my opinion, the detail looks way better than Heroscape ever did. Just compare the lava tiles above to Heroscape's:

There's no contest.

The SOURCE hexes aren't just the same thing in different colors. They're actual works of art.

And I'm not saying this to put Heroscape down. Like I said, it was my childhood and was fantastic for its time.

The game on the Kickstarter, Timestrike, is very similar to Heroscape. But with so much more stacked onto Heroscape's foundation.

Characters have move, range, attack and defense like Heroscape. You have the six-sided dice where three sides are swords and two are shields. Only now there is a special lucky sword and a lucky shield. These aren't relevant for most characters, but some characters will have abilities where they'll gain some bonus on lucky rolls.

If that's not enough, there's also a Contest mechanic where you can push another player's figure. This is great if someone is on a ledge and you want to cause them fall damage, or if you just want to steal the high ground from them to increase your attack.

You can also mine materials, build roads with the materials you mined, and go fishing for buffs. (Literally. You can stand near water and try to fish. If you succeed, you take a card from the fishing deck.)

There are wild monsters you can try to tame. There are even large figures you can mount and ride. See this guy:

That's a base on his back for you to place a smaller miniature on and ride him around!

The game is centered around not just beating each other, but also fighting a boss called a Sentience with space for three figures on its back.

(Note: the Gorilla Brute is not part of this first set, and will likely come with a future expansion.)

The sentience takes full advantage of the destructible terrain, leveling any space he lands on.

And they're tossing in solo and co-op rules for people who don't want to fight each other and just want to fight the boss alone, or to team up to fight the boss.

Oh! And it comes with STACKABLE WALLS!

That's a small thing, but it's a cool thing. (Okay, this is technically a stretch goal for $200,000 that they haven't put on the official Kickstarter, but $200K feels likely to me.)

The creators also seem genuinely committed to making this a reality and keeping it going for a long time, with talk of several expansions in the pipeline, introducing more playable characters, more rideable Brutes, and more bosses which will each have their own abilities and their own solo/co-op modes.

And possibly boats.

That's a picture of a prototype boat that can fit three figures and will NOT be included in this Kickstarter. But it is planned for a future expansion.

I don't know if the boats will come to fruition. I don't know if they'll look like that when they are released or if they'll look completely different by then since that would be a long way off.

But I appreciate knowing that there are plans to make this a long-term investment. I'm not worried that the creators will give up on SOURCE and Timestrike like Hasbro did Heroscape and Arena of the Planeswalkers.

And it's not just Timestrike. The SOURCE terrain can be purchased on its own and the SOURCE system is intended to be used for a variety of games by different creators. And it's already naturally compatible with Heroscape, Arena of the Planeswalkers, Battletech and other hex-based games.

I am incredibly excited and hopeful for the future of this project!

Here's the Kickstarter for anyone who wants to see more of this.

And here's a video review going over the Timestrike rules and how it plays:

[marvelmusing]

I don’t do this a lot, so hopefully I’m doing it right. So, my birthday was yesterday and it just kinda sucked. Was wondering if I could put in a request for Billy? Like maybe something where either everyone forgot her birthday or possibly where Billy knows she doesn’t have a great history with her birthday and he tries to do something really nice for her. You don’t have to write anything if you don’t want. I literally love your work though. It’s near constantly that I’m on your page. 💗

Of course, sorry this took a few days (and that it’s quite short) but I hope it lifts your spirits a little. Sending lots of love your way ❤️

-

Birthday Treat

Billy is incredibly observant. Every single thing he learns or notices about you he files away for a later use. Whatever you want for your birthday, Billy is a hundred percent committed to making sure you get it.

He reminds all of his employees that your birthday is approaching, so that when he comes home on your birthday, his bag is full of cards for you from them all.

When you arrive home, you find Billy standing at the kitchen sink with his sleeves rolled up, snipping the stems of a beautiful bouquet of flowers that he’s assembling in a vase for you.

He grins at the surprised look on your face.

“Hey you. Happy birthday.”

Billy is always attentive, but you hadn’t expected this and you wrap an appreciative arm around his waist as you cup the head of one of the flowers in your hand.

“Thank you,” you say quietly as you admire the flowers before sneaking a glance over at Billy.

Hands wet from cleaning the stems, he nudges his hip against yours affectionately as a response, before he presses a kiss to your cheek and nods towards the plentiful stack of envelopes on the kitchen counter.

“You’ve got some mail.”

As he continues to ensure your bouquet is arranged to perfection, you open up the cards and place them on the countertop so that Billy can see them and ask you who they’re from.

Whenever there’s some names you don't recognise, Billy jumps in with an answer of who they are which brings a smile to your face.

Once he’s finished with the flowers, he carries the vase himself, placing it in whatever spot you point out and he adjusts the angle this way and that to make sure that it looks perfect.

The ingredients for your favourite meal are already waiting in the fridge for Billy to retrieve them and begin making dinner for the two of you. If you enjoy cooking then Billy might let you help him, but he very much wants to do it for you.

The two of you will talk and your days, things you have planned for the week, new TV shows or films you want to watch together. All the while, Billy is making dinner and you set up the table.

Billy is incredibly aspirational when it comes to your birthday cake, and had arrived home early to begin baking. It certainly isn’t his forte but he tries his hardest to mimic whatever design he had seen on the internet that he knew you would love.

He does his best, and is quite pleased with his work, although he is a little worried you won’t like it. So, as a back up, he also brings out a tray of store bought cupcakes, a birthday candle slotted on each of them.

Billy serenades you with his own version of ‘happy birthday,’ with added vocal flourishes because he’s a show off that likes to remind you he has a good singing voice. He grins at the sight of you rolling your eyes, your face visible even after he had turned off the lights due to the extensive number of candles spread over cupcakes and cake.

When you blow out the candles, he jokes about leaving the lights off so that you won’t be able to see the cake. The smile on your face widens when he turns the light back on and you see your cake. It isn’t a perfect replica of what Billy had wanted but to you it’s perfect.

The cake crumbles into a bit of a heap as Billy cuts two slices but with your help you manage to scoop it onto your plates. He seems surprised at how good it tastes, and the glimmer of pride in his eyes makes it even better.

Once you’ve finished your cake, Billy tells you that he’s taking you for a drive and that you’re getting ice cream for the trip.

So, that is how you spend the rest of your evening, with Billy driving you around the city, car heater chasing away the chill of the night as the stars come out of hiding and the radio hums away with a familiar tune.

The ice cream might numb your tongue but it gives you the wonderful sweetness of a birthday treat as you watch Billy’s hands on the wheel while he drives, humming along to the radio.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Uno, with the continuous draw rule (draw until you get a card you can play) and the stacking rule (if someone puts down a +2 or +4, you can block it by putting down your own, and the next person can block it as well which means you can end up having to draw 12 cards)

Who wins? Who loses? Does it just go on forever?

Oh you know what character is perfect for this ask? Bonnie.

Bonnie is a serial cheat. So long as Roxy isn't in the room, he cheats as often as physically possible. What I'm saying is, this guy has an infinite amount of +4s up his sleeve to pile them on Freddy. It's always Freddy. Sometimes Monty, but mostly Freddy. Freddy has a knack for winning card games and Bonnie has a knack for losing to him. He's sat there, the turn before Freddy's, just waiting for Monty to give him a +4 so he can pass it along. If Chica is playing she knows he has a stack so sometimes she'll ask Monty if he has a +4 specifically to be able to hit Freddy with +12, possibly more if anyone else is playing. Now, Freddy can accuse Bonnie of cheating, but he can never fucking prove it so he's always getting away with it. It's why everyone always prefers to play with Roxy when they want to not have to worry about the card game equivalent of a ticking time bomb because she will rip him a new one for trying to cheat on her watch. And she's good at catching him doing it too, he doesn't get away with that shit with her and yet he's always trying. He's determined to get one over on her eventually. Freddy meanwhile, is struggling to hold all his cards. Plot twist: Due to the draw to match rule, he still ends up winning lmao

Speaking of draw to match, there is nothing Roxy and Chica love more than figuring out what colour the person who's got Uno has and changing the colour right before their turn. They especially love doing it to each other because they're so well known for it. They like to make sure that they're spaced out between the other players to make sure they can rob people of win at the last minute as often as possible. Everyone panicking like "WE GOTTA CHANGE THE COLOUR WE CAN'T LET THEM WIN" and then, out of the shadows, their saviour arrives as one of them speaks up, calm as fuck and says "Leave it red." The group start to cheer while the guy with Uno starts to hope and pray they're bluffing. They do bluff sometimes just to keep everyone on their toes and because it's hilarious but no one can ever fucking tell. Roxy is stupid obvious with her emotions but both options are good to her so she's never been harder to read in her entire life. Chica just wears a sweet, innocent smile as if she isn't holding the fate of the entire game in her hands. These two will literally save a regular colour change card for the entire game just for this. Sometimes they go a step further and ask if someone has a specific number card so they can change the colour like that and suddenly it's like a game of Go Fish. With draw to match as a rule? This is a fucking lethal move lmao

And you know who always ends up drawing a bajillion? Monty. Every time. He's like "Guess who's gotta draw again!" and everyone starts loudly counting the amount of cards he has to pick up every time. There is absolutely nothing funnier to everyone than when he has to pick up twenty cards after Roxy in particular just changed the colour when he had Uno. Just progressively throwing more and more absurd death threats at her while she cackles her ass off. Jokes on her, with all these cards, it's not hard to get a couple of +2s. His vengeance came one day when she immediately tried to +2 him after he'd drawn twenty and he passed it onto Chica... who passed it on to Freddy, who passed it back onto her... and guess who didn't have another +2? Roxy is LIVID while it's Monty's turn to laugh into eternity.

With all this being said, the one person they all always gang up on, is Bonnie. Cause he's a cheat. The moment Roxy grabs his wrist and pulls three +4s out of his sleeve without even looking up from her cards, it is a massacre. They dogpile him so hard, and anyone else that attempts to cheat gets the same treatment. Every player is coordinating specifically to make him draw more cards and he's so mad about it every time but it's still fun because he did ask for this lmao

Sunny is the infinitely lucky one though. He's always skirting along with Uno for like ten turns because he keeps drawing a playable time first try every time. The only way to stop him is to keep changing the colour or to +2 or +4 him. There was once a game where Chica was on one side of him, Foxy on the other and they kept reversing it so he couldn't play while they scrambled for a way to stop him. "I HAVE A +2 YA GOTTA MAKE IT RED" "I CAN'T MAKE IT RED REVERSE IT" "PLEASE YA GOTTA FIND A RED" and it went on for so god damn long lmao. Sunny keeps giggling like "heeheeheee I'm gonna win now!! You can't stop me!!! You can only reverse it for so long!!!" he finds their scrambling hilarious. He also shouts "TAKE THAT!!!" every time he plays a +4 or +2 and the one that completely misses what colour they're all avoiding and sets it to that colour without thinking. Monty deep sighing as he switches it back to a colour he doesn't have after he's already drawn like thirty cards over several turns lmao

They once all played teams Uno where Roxy had the minis helping her and Sunny and Moon were working together. The game didn't end for an hour and a half and yet, with Bonnie commentating, the others spectating were enraptured. They got Vanessa in on this a few times and it's the first time Freddy has lost in three years lmao

[penname-artist]

Life Updates (Jan. 2023)

(Dated as such because I presume I’ll do more month-to-month updates, assuming I’ve anything update-worthy. Highlighted the section’s themes cuz I bounce a lot and there was a lot to cover for this month)

My commissions have been doing well as of late. I wouldn’t say they’re “booming” per se, but I have two done and two right behind them. Getting onto a real schedule has its ups and downs, though. For one thing, remembering to block my time for work (espeeeeecially for logging commission times) has been challenging. Nevertheless, I’ve done the thing, and I’m being good and making myself not work on the weekends and only putting in my work toward the week days.

That said, this Monday (the 16th) will probably be busy. Next to those two commissions, I have a pair of videos (which aren’t even mine, they’re my father’s) to edit for posting to help him advertise somethin-or-other. I really need to work on my own videos for my channel and get my setup back (the camera holder thingy I use when doing speed art has been moved since I replaced my floor last year and I still haven’t put it back) BUT, because Monday already has three to four projects in it, I’m not gonna push it. I know what I’m like, I want to do everything at once and then I don’t do any of it.

Which ALSO reminds me of the Dusty Collaboration project that I intended to do in August last year and never finished. My plan on that, going forward (and I’ll go back and poke the members of this project and re-ensure everyone is still on board with this) is to do it this August instead for the Planes 10-year anniversary. Because, you know, it’s TEN YEARS. That’s fucking INSANE.

Now mental health wise...well it’s kind of a mixed bag. I definitely feel a lot better and more alive right now than I had working 36 hours a week and wasting away in a chair. I have all of my side hobbies in the same place and I can add to them and work on them in my own time (and literally, I have a lot of fucking hobbies. In this room alone I have two dozen someodd video games, board games, card games, stacks of books I’m addictively reading, piles of crochet projects and yarn, a desk full of art materials, another desk full of writing materials, and now I’m putting in a TV and DVD/CD player for television and music). It’s also given me enough motivation/inspiration to do the things I’ve been actually wanting and needing to do - like make money - more effectively. So on that front, all is well and good.

But, the rat situation from a few months ago is still going on. And I literally have no fucking idea what it is or why it is and what we can do to stop it. I literally don’t even know if it’s a rat anymore. I never hear any active chewing or scratching, all that I hear is the movement of an animal from one end of the bedroom all the way around to the other, and the occasional bump of something in the wall as it hits it. A pair of times I’ve heard some weird squeaking like it’s a baby animal of some sort, but only a teeny tiny amount of times. And the other day I discovered a cat outside my window, so NOW I’m thinking he’s sneaking into the house walls to hunt and just fucking with me. Or it’s something else, I literally have no idea. Either way, I have slept with the wax melter light on EVERY night for the last month or so.

Lastly, on the side of financial state, we’re still going by the skin of our teeth at the moment, but I suppose it’s working. Dad’s jumping between fixing cars (which he knows) and trying to do real estate (which he does not know as much - also making money from that takes significantly more time and less consistency) and I’m only just now starting to scratch into my savings for things.

My biggest focus aside from my commissions and things will probably be getting my license and then finding a second job somewhere, hopefully art-related (please), between now and May. That is, assuming that I’m still not quite making enough to be comfortable. I’m teetering on the edge of qualifying for making money through Youtube, and commissions are making a fair bit of pocket change right now, but even that plus my work income right now is about half of the rent money for the month. I did say I’d give myself until April to do this, because I can make it that far on savings alone, comfortably and without much fear. BUT, nothing and no one can break until then because I ain’t got no insurance for shit anymore. *punches body* Stop being stupid!

(oh yeah physical health wise I still get occasional noodle days where my body is just, non-functional and I’m just kinda made of limp noodles. Not often, but, it does happen. I dunno man, maybe it’s just a normal thing, who knows.)

That’s all I can think of for the time being, y’all. I’m gonna work on this immediate stuff first and then hopefully I’ll have room to put out some videos for you guys. And, there’s fanfics to look forward to! If anyone remembers Night on the Bow, a project collaborated by Ivory, Shu, and yours truly, we’re making another one! It’s a beefy fic too, so hang onto your hats... ;)

There’s tons more in the wings but I can’t even remember what lol, but it’ll get there when it gets there!

Take care y’all and have a nice Sunday, til the morrow!

-Pen

[penmansparadise]

Eddie Munson ~ Little Koala Boy

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mild language and S4 Spoilers.

a/n: This was requested from my Wattpad.  I literally just rewrote like two whole scenes but whatever lol.  I hope everyone enjoys reading this.  Thank you again for the support.  You all are amazing!  My requests are still open, but I still have a lot to get through.  So, once again, if you don't mind waiting, please message me, and I'd be happy to add your request to my queue.  I have another Eddie imagine coming up next.  Thanks again!!!

§

You and Robin stood behind the counter of Family Video stacking VHS tapes as Steve tried to pick up some girl. He was failing to an epic proportion, to say the least. But this happened every day. In fact, you and Robin were keeping score on how many girls he actually picked up versus how many he didn’t. So far, it was heavily skewed in the “not picking up girls” direction.

The game had been going on since the two of them started working at Family Video with you. You actually got them the jobs, putting in a good word for them. After everything that happened at Starcourt Mall with the Mind Flayer, it was the least you could do. After all, you were there with them as they watched their previous place of work crumble. Now, the three of you were co-workers who occasionally dealt with monsters from another dimension. Not the best resume candy, but you all were doing your best.

You watched Steve try and fail to talk up a tall blonde and shook your head, bumping your elbow into Robin.

“Do you think he’ll ever figure out the whole flirting thing?”

Robin scoffed and leaned against the counter.

“God, I hope so. I’ve been watching him swing and miss since last summer.” She pushed into a standing position again, “It’s starting to get really sad.”

The two of you shared a laugh just as the girl exited the store, leaving Steve alone. He moped back to the counter, and you stopped laughing but couldn’t quite control the smile trying to break free. Steve rolled his eyes.

Go ahead,” he said, throwing his hands in the air, “Get it out now because I really don’t want to hear it later.”

Your lips started twitching.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve.”

“Oh, don’t play that card with me.”

You turned and smiled at Robin, who was already chuckling before the TV mounted on the wall started beeping. Steve grabbed the remote and turned the volume up just as a news reporter popped onto the screen.

“This is breaking news. An unidentified teenager was found dead this morning in Forest Hills Trailer Park. It is still unknown at the moment who the killer is. However, the police are investigating a promising lead.”

“Holy shit,” Steve said as he crossed his arms. The reporter was taking up most of the screen, but you could still see the trailer the police were walking in and out of. You narrowed your eyes and stepped a little closer to get a better look. Your stomach dropped when you realized who the trailer belonged to.

“Hold on,” you said, pointing at the screen, “that’s Eddie’s trailer.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows.

“Eddie? As in Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson?”

You turned to Steve, lips pursed.

“No,” you said, crossing your arms, “as in Eddie ‘My Boyfriend’ Munson.”

“You’re dating Eddie Munson?”

You scoffed, but before you could get another word out, the bell hanging over the door jingled, and you all turned your attention. Dustin and Max entered and tromped up to the counter.

“Hey, Steve,” Dustin said. Steve used the remote to point to the television.

“Did you guys see this?”

The question was lost on Dustin. He didn’t seem to care about the news. Instead, he placed his hands on the counter and asked, “How many phones do you have?”

Steve turned to face the two kids, standing a little taller than before.

“Someone was murdered.”

Again, neither of the kids seemed to care in the least that a body was just found. Instead, Dustin slammed his hands down.

“How many phones do you have?”

“Two, why?”

Just then, Robin stepped forward, finger in the air.

“Uh, technically three if you count Keith’s in the back.”

Dustin looked at Max, who nodded at him and said, “Yeah, three works.”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ as your eyebrows knitted. Everything they were saying was making no sense. But before anyone could elaborate, Dustin shoved his bag over the counter and hopped over with it.

“Hey!” You shouted, “My pile!”

“What are you doing, man?” Steve asked, throwing his arms into the air.

Dustin plopped down onto the chair in front of the computer.

“Setting up base of operations here.”

“What?” You asked, looking at Steve as you dropped to the floor to help Robin pick up the VHS tapes that were knocked over. Dustin didn’t seem to care that he and Max shouldn’t have been there as he started typing.

“Stop, get off of there,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. Dustin didn’t even turn around to look at Steve. Instead, he continued to type as Max rounded the counter and planted herself next to him.

“I need it,” Dustin said, dragging out each word.

“For what?” Steve asked, the exasperation in his voice growing by the second.

“Looking up Eddie’s friend’s phone numbers.”

That statement stopped you. You dropped the VHS tapes you had stacked, earning a groan from Robin, and stood up.

“Wait, why are you trying to find Eddie’s friend’s phone numbers?”

Dustin ran a hand over his face and turned to Max, completely ignoring you.

“Can you just fill them in while I do this?”

Your eyes were trained on the short red-haired girl as your foot began to bounce. You didn’t think anything was wrong, but you hadn’t seen Eddie yet. Usually, he showed up just before lunch and would wait outside for you. Your eyes flicked to the parking lot, and when you didn’t see his van, your heart dropped. Something wasn’t right. You swallowed the bile that was crawling up your throat when Max finally started to speak.

“It was Chrissy Cunningham,” she said.

You, Steve, and Robin all looked at Max for her to continue. She took in a shaky breath.

“She was the teenager who was killed. Last night. In Eddie’s trailer.”

Your stomach rolled, and you felt like your knees were going to give out. Eddie would never do anything to hurt anyone. He wouldn’t even hurt a fly. Half the time, you were the one to kill a spider if he found one in his room. There was no way he would murder someone. Your hand went to your mouth as if that would help keep the urge to vomit at bay.

“So,” Max continued, “the cops are looking for him. He’s suspect number one right now.”

You felt like your airways were being choked off. This couldn’t be happening. Not with your Eddie. Max went back to helping Dustin call people as you leaned against the counter, needing something to hold your weight up.

“This can’t be possible,” you said to no one in particular, “He would have come to me if something was going on. I’m his girlfriend, for Christ’s sake!”

Dustin let out a dry laugh gaining your attention.

“You’re his girlfriend, and you’re telling me you don’t keep tabs on him?”

Your eyes narrowed at his question.

“He’s on the lam, Dustin.”

“And? I know where Suzie is ninety-nine percent of the time.”

You rolled your eyes and stood up, raising your hands in defense.

“Sorry, I don’t track my boyfriend.”

“Maybe if you did, we wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Your jaw dropped just as Steve stepped in between you and the boy.

“Okay, that’s enough! Shit.” He said, nudging you away from Dustin.

You shook your head. It had been only minutes ago that you found out that someone was murdered in your boyfriend’s trailer, and he was the only suspect. You hadn’t heard from him, and no one knew where he was. And to top it all off, not only were you and your friends looking for him but so were the cops. You could feel the panic sinking in when Max turned to face everyone.

“Hey, guys, I might have a lead.”

Your heart leaped in your chest.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” She said, “There’s this guy, Reefer Rick. Apparently, Eddie’s crashed there before.”

Your face scrunched up.

“Reefer Rick? Why would he stay there?”

“Because,” Steve said, “your boyfriend is a drug dealer, Y/N. That’s why.”

Robin gasped and smacked him in the arm.

“Steve!”

“Wh-how am I the bad guy? It’s the truth.”

You let out a loud groan and furiously rubbed your hands over your face before turning your attention back to Max.

“Where does this Reefer Rick live?”

“No one knows.”

“Do you have a last name at least?”

“No.”

You sighed. All you wanted was to make sure your boyfriend was safe, but the feeling of defeat was heavy in the air. That was until Robin perked up with a smile.

“I have an idea,” she said, moving to the computer and starting to type. “Maybe we don’t need a last name.”

You and the others crowded around her. The letters R-I-C-K popped up onto the screen and soon were replaced with a list of several Ricks. When you realized what Robin was doing, you could have kissed her. She turned to the group with a smile.

“Twelve Ricks already have an account here.”

You stood up straight and said, “All we have to do is narrow it down.”

Robin started clicking on the names to see their most recent rentals until she came upon a Rick Lipton, who everyone believed was the guy. Dustin clapped his hands together.

“Bingo.”

You didn’t waste another second. You helped Dustin get his things then followed the rest of the group out to Steve’s car. Robin hopped in the passenger seat, leaving you in the back with the kids. Once you were all inside, Steve pulled out of the parking lot toward Rick Lipton’s house.

No one said a word on the way there, the tension too heavy. You stared out the window, chewing on your bottom lip. This whole Reefer Rick thing was a total shot in the dark. There was still a chance that Eddie was not at his house. For all you knew, he had already skipped town, and you would never see him again. Tears burned in your throat, and you swallowed them down before they could spill over.

By the time you started to drive down a deserted dirt road, the sun had already set. Your heart was racing, and your stomach was in knots. It was dark. What if you couldn’t find him? What if someone else had already gotten to him? There were too many variables. Before Steve even got the chance to put the car in park, you and Dustin were jumping out and hustling toward the front door. There were no lights in the pitch black of the night, making the house look ominous. There wasn’t even a vehicle in the driveway. Your palms started to feel a bit clammy as you looked around at the woods surrounding the area. Knowing everything you did about the upside down and having helped fight the monsters that came from that terrible place, you couldn’t help but think the absolute worst for Eddie. You pushed the thoughts away with a shake of your head and continued to follow behind Dustin.

You two were the first up the porch steps. Dustin shined his flashlight into the window, but when he didn’t see anything, he moved to the door. You took in a shaky breath.

“God, I hope he’s here,” you said more to yourself than anyone else. Dustin sighed, then rang the doorbell once just as the rest of the group joined you two. No answer. He rang it again, then started to ring it several times in succession. You ran your hands over your face, feeling the fear seeping into your bones. Dustin waited a second then he started to beat on the door.

“Okay,” Steve said with a scoff. “Well, that’s settled. I guess he’s not here.”

Dustin didn’t seem to care about Steve’s comment and proceeded to bang on the door again.

“Eddie! It’s Dustin!”

You let out a groan and started pacing.

“Oh, geez, Dustin. Is that really a good idea?”

“Eddie! We just want to talk!”

You watched as he rang the doorbell rapidly before continuing to pound against the door.

“Rick! Reefer Rick!”

“Dustin, seriously?” You asked, stopping for a split second, “Let’s just go. He’s not here.”

Dustin whipped around to look at you before saying, “He has to be here, Y/N.” Then he started ringing the doorbell again, shouting, “Reefer Rick!”

You threw your hands in the air, completely defeated. Not only was Eddie not at the only lead you all had, but now you had a delusional kid who couldn’t take a hint screaming for someone who wasn’t even there. You started to walk back to Steve’s car when Max spoke, stopping you in your tracks.

“Hey, guys.”

You all turned to face her, and she pointed her flashlight toward an old boathouse. You moved enough to see what she was pointing at, and your heart filled with hope again. The overhead light was on. You stalked back over to the rest of the group as they made their way down the little hill to the abandoned building.

Robin was the first one to enter. She moved her flashlight around the dark building.

“Hello?” She said, taking a cautious step forward, “Is anyone home?”

You all entered and began looking around. It was hard to see with no light, which only heightened your nerves. You were literally in the middle of nowhere at some random guy’s house, trespassing in his boathouse. It was like the start of a really bad slasher film.

You waked behind Steve, looking for any sign of life when he grabbed an oar that was hanging on the wall. You narrowed your eyes and gave him a questioning look that he waved off. Steve walked up to the little dingy in the middle of the boathouse and started aggressively poking the tarp that was lying in it.

“What are you doing?” Dustin asked, “Just take the tarp off.”

Steve looked at him like he was crazy.

“No. If you’re so brave, you take the tarp off.”

Dustin slid by you, causing you to sidestep toward the dingy.

“Maybe I will,” he said. “I should have nothing to fear. You’re going to protect me with your oar.”

You rolled your eyes and tried to move around them as they continued to bicker. When you couldn’t slide by, you opened your mouth to say something. But you never got the chance because a large body jumped out from under the tarp and started pushing you toward the wall. You let out a scream that only grew when you felt the sharp poke of a beer bottle being pressed against your jugular. Your back slammed into the wall, you took a huge breath through your nose, and you were overtaken by the most familiar scent. Mahogany and teakwood flooded your brain, and that’s when you opened your eyes to see that you weren’t actually in any danger. The person who had jumped out at you wasn’t a threat at all. It was Eddie.

“Eddie! Eddie!” You shouted, finally getting him to focus on your face in the dark. “It’s me!”

You could feel his frantic breaths fanning over your face.

“Y/N?”

You raised your hands in surrender until they were on either side of your head.

“It’s me. It’s just me.”

Eddie took a little step back and lowered the beer bottle.

“Y/N,” he said in a whisper. Then, he realized it was actually you.

“Y/N!” He said before dropping the beer bottle and pulling you into a hug.

His arms completely engulfed you, causing your face to be pressed against his chest. You could hear his heart beating like a stampede. His whole body was trembling as he held you, and you could feel your chest tighten. He wasn’t just scared. He was petrified.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered into the crook of your neck, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, rubbing the back of his head and shushing him in an attempt to calm him down.

It felt like he held you for hours before he finally pulled away. But even then, he didn’t go very far. Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist to keep you glued to his side.

“Why are you here?”

“We were looking for you,” you said, “We want to know what happened.”

You could see Eddie’s face fall, and he shook his head.

“You won’t believe me.”

Max stepped forward and shrugged.

“Try us.”

For a minute, Eddie didn’t do anything. But then, without letting go of you, he moved the two of you to sit down. Eddie sat then pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around you again. You were pressed against his chest and could feel the steady thrum of his heart and his accelerated breathing. It was as if he had just run a marathon. You leaned into him and lifted your hand to start playing with his hair. Your fingers tangled in and out of his curls, giving his scalp a little scratch here and there. Eddie leaned his head against yours as he took in a deep breath and began recalling what happened with Chrissy.

“Her body just lifted up into the air, and uh,” his grip tightened on your hip, “and she just like hung there. In the air. And her bones, uh, she…” Eddie trailed off and started to whimper.

You shushed him and kissed the side of his head.

“It’s okay, baby. It’s alright.”

He nodded, then tugged you a little closer to his chest. You could feel him starting to shake again.

“Her bones started to snap,” he said, voice cracking just slightly. “Her eyes, man. It-it was like there was something, like, inside her head, pulling.”

Eddie started to whimper again, and you could see the start of tears brewing in his eyes. You gave the side of his head another kiss, then urged him to go on.

“I-I didn’t know what to do, so I…I ran away.”

Even in the darkness, you could see the fear and sadness written all over Eddie’s face. His eyes were sullen, and the usual dimple displaying smile he had was gone. You moved your stare to the rest of the group who was sitting across from you two. They knew that Eddie wasn’t crazy just as well as you did. But their looks of awe were mistaken on Eddie’s behalf. He scoffed and removed one hand from your waist to run through his hair.

“You all think I’m crazy, right?”

Dustin shook his head.

“No, we don’t think you’re crazy.”

“Look, don’t bullshit me, man! I know how this sounds!”

It was quiet. No one dared to speak. You could hear Eddie’s little whimpering breaths, and it felt like your heart was shattering in your chest at the sound. So, you twisted in his grip, placed your forefinger under his chin, and forced him to look you in the eye.

“We’ve seen some things, Eddie. And it sounds like what you went through is about to give us a run for our money.”

Eddie’s bottom lip quivered just slightly at your statement.

“Really?”

You brushed his crazed curls off his forehead, letting your hand linger on his cheek.

“Let Dustin explain everything.”

Eddie clung to you as he turned his attention to Dustin. He stayed that way the entire time Dustin spoke. His arms tightened around you as Dustin revealed more and more about the Upside Down. He never let go, but you didn’t mind. No, you were just happy that you found Eddie and that he was safe, wrapped up tight around you where he belonged.  

Tag List: @violetrainbow412-blog @tellmehows​ @pastel-abyss-x​

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

This very much just happened. Have some totally historically inaccurate postcards. 1.4k words. Contains: fluff, postcards, more frogs, and some forgotten birthday angst.

~

Geralt peers at the rows of painted cards spread across the countertop as the leatherworker piles his mended armour beside them. She’s muttering under her breath, making sure it’s all there, but Geralt isn’t listening to her. He picks up one of the little cards.

“Good, aren’t they?” She says, spotting him looking. “My son paints them.”

Geralt knows less about art than he does music, but he finds himself agreeing. He puts the card down and looks through the rest - animals, florals, little pastoral scenes.

“What are they for?” He asks.

The leatherworker shrugs. “Decoration, mostly,” she says, “but, here...” she picks up the closest, turning it over, “there’s a space for a message, and an address, too.” She rolls her eyes. “Ralph thinks you could send them, instead of letters. I think he just wants an excuse to write shorter letters. But they’re good for birthdays, or holidays.” She reaches under the counter, and pulls out a thick stack of identically sized cards. “Here…”

Geralt flicks through the cards, his interest piqued. Most of them are of local scenes, but one makes him pause. It’s less realistic than the others, more animated: a frog wearing an absurd plumed hat and playing a little fiddle. Beneath, someone has scrawled: The Frog Bard - all croak and no chorus!!!

It’s a foolish, foppish thing. It’s designed to entertain - to make the reader smile, for a moment, before they pin it to a wall where it can brighten up the space before the paint begins to fade. Beauty and amusement without much in the way of substance. It makes him smile, despite himself, and there’s a familiar squeeze around his ribs. It reminds him of—

“Birthdays, you say?”

“Well, that’s what I’ve been using them for.”

Geralt leaves the leatherworker with his mended armour slung over his shoulder, and the absurd little card tucked away in an inner pocket.

~

It’s not - it’s not that people forget, really. It’s not that he’s been forgotten. It’s just… just an awkward time of the year, with the term ending and the academy abuzz with activity like bees leaving a hive, and it’s the solstice, of course, which means so much drinking and carousing and even more work that it’s not—

It’s not that people forget. It just happens, and it’s fine - it’s fine - because the endless parties stretch on with the late setting sun and each of those is like it could be for him, if he pretended, if he—

Jaskier lets himself flop down onto the bed. He knows he’s being dramatic. It’s not like anyone is deliberately ignoring him. His usual cohort have all gone their separate ways this summer, and as they’d all assumed he’d be off with his witcher none of them had even left a note. It had been Etta, the librarian, who’d told him where they’d gone.

Not even a note.

And they’re wrong of course. He isn’t off with Geralt, and Geralt isn’t his.

He sits up with a grunt. He’s allowed himself a moment - several moments - to wallow in the unfairness of another forgotten birthday. Enough, now. He’ll tidy himself up, go out, and get roaring drunk.

As he’s heading out the door of the lodging house his landlady appears. “Professor Pankratz!” She calls, “Just in time. You’ve some letters.”

Jaskier sighs. Likely they’re more missives from the Academy - who still insist on writing letters despite the fact he is now quite literally on their doorstep - or perhaps a response from the healer he’s been writing to in Cidaris in his attempts to learn better on-the-road care techniques. He turns heel and takes the stack of letters from her with a smile and a thanks before she bustles away again.

Perhaps - there’s a little pang of hope - perhaps his father…

No: that’s just foolishness. He recognises the handwriting of the healer, whose letter he shoves into his pocket to read later, and two from academy professors which he buries at the bottom of his satchel to read whenever he remembers to. As he shifts through the letters, something slides from the bundle and lands softly at his feet.

He bends to pick it up, expecting perhaps a bill from the landlady.

It’s a postcard. He’s seen a few of these, these past weeks: the Academy is full of artists, and the postcards have taken the city by storm. It helps, of course, that the students will leap on any excuse to condense long letters home into a short few lines. It’s easier, this way - I am well, I love you dearly, send more money - without needing to go into unnecessary detail. The art is just a bonus.

The postcard, drawn on thick, surprisingly high-quality cardstock, depicts a little frog wearing a feathered hat. He’s playing a fiddle, and there’s even an amusing caption. It’s sickeningly charming, horrendously twee - and therefore he loves it. He flicks it over, wondering who it’s from - perhaps Priss, or even Valdo, the frog some sort of concealed insult.

“Jaskier - I wish you a happy birthday. I assume you are too drunk or too busy to read this. I hope you enjoy the card. It reminded me of you. Geralt.”

Oh.

Geralt remembered. Geralt remembered, and sent him this darling little card, even though he’s always grousing about not having any money for frivolities. He remembered, and sent him a gift, despite always moaning at Jaskier when they’re on the Path together.

He reads Geralt’s note again, the large letters taking up the whole space, then flips the card back over to look at the little bardic frog. It could still be an insult - more croak than chorus - but it’s such a soft, unexpected gesture that it makes his heart swell and those awful butterflies return to the maddening dance they play out in his gut whenever he considers Geralt for more than a moment.

It’s too much. It’s far too much.

The single postcard, written in Geralt’s deliberate hand, is enough to dislodge the weight of all those who didn’t even send a letter - didn’t even acknowledge the day - and it all tumbles down on him.

The postcard still gripped in one hand, fat, hot tears begin to spill down his cheeks. He muffles himself with his sleeve, burying his face into the crook of his elbow. He shouldn’t be crying. This is absurd, and he’s in public for Melitele’s sake. It’s just another day - just one day of many, and there’ll be more birthdays and more parties and more people and—

And Geralt remembered when no one else did.

He bites off a cry, desperate not to be overheard weeping like a bloody child, and quickly places the postcard down on the closest table, lest he smudge the paint. He peers at it with burning, bloodshot eyes - at Geralt’s neat handwriting, designed to be legible and clear above all else.

He looks closer. The space where the address should be - where he should find his name and lodgings - has been written over. There is no address. Unlike the rest of the letters, this hasn’t come with a carrier. Which means—

The door opens behind him, bringing with it the sound of chatter and excitement from outside. He swears into a sob, wondering if he can spin some line about artistic temperament to whichever poor bastard has walked in on him, but before he can turn to face them and make a suitable excuse there’s a firm, familiar hand on his shoulder.

“Jaskier—”

He’s not sure who moves first, but suddenly there’s hard leather beneath his cheek and his nostrils are overwhelmed with the scent of dirt and horse and smoke, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders, penning him in.

“Uh…” Geralt sounds as untethered as Jaskier feels. “Happy birthday?”

“You remembered.” It’s all Jaskier can think of, right now.

“Did you… did not not like the postcard?” Geralt goes suddenly stiff beneath him. “It wasn’t an insult, Jaskier, the frog—”

Finally, Jaskier pulls away, leaving a glistening damp patch on Geralt’s shoulder. Geralt looks panicked, which is perhaps more delightful than the postcard. Jaskier swallows, attempting to regain control of his breathing.

“No,” he says, sincerely. “No. I…” He holds Geralt’s gaze. “I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Jaskier rolls back his shoulders and self-consciously dabs at his streaming eyes with the sleeve of his doublet. “I really do.”

[gemma-collins-ily]

can i request some gof harry headcanons. can be about anything i just need to read something about harry there’s literally nothing for him

GOF Harry with a Knowledgeable S/O

a/n - ok ok the amount of times I changed my mind about the central headcanon idea. It went from a baker S/O to Hogsmeade with Harold to a horse rider S/O to a Slytherin S/O trying to help in tasks. Let me know if you want me to do any of these here! Might be a little short but I have some ideas ready! Xoxo ♥️❤️

Warnings: arguments, water mentions (the lake), one swear word and let me know if there's anything else!

the way I kept changing my mind-

but I've decided

bestie will immediately run to you when he's picked for the tournament

he tells Dumbledore (ugh) if there's a loophole, you'll find it

so he goes to you to ask

"Hi, hey, hello. Might need a little help because, you know, they're saying I have to compete and the effects could be disastrous and the results could be me dead and-"

You halt his panicky blurt of words by putting a hand on his upper arm, thumb gently stroking over his bicep to sooth him.

"Har, love. Logically, there has to be a way to protest it, or to make them look so bad in the public eye that they can no longer force you. Trust me, if there is any possible and plausible way to get you out of this, I will."

after hours of searching in the library that night to no avail, you tell Harry to grab his cloak

you head down to the restricted section because creepy ways to escape things are always there, right?

yeah, you don't find anything

Hermione and Ron join the search, Filch's cat distracted by tuna left out conveniently on the second floor

Harry begins to get more and more desperate, as do you, and random books - that have nothing to do with anything involved whatsoever - are pulled from shelves, dusted off and scoured for information

"Harry, I can't find a thing."

Your tone is one of dread, your heart heavy as he is practically condemned to competing, his eyes fading of hope because he knows that if you can't manage to discover a way out, there isn't one.

"I suppose the only thing we can do is prepare the best we can then."

That night is spent tossing and turning in separate beds until Harry's dorm door creaks open and you trail into his readily open arms.

when you find it's dragons for the first task, your gasping and your hand latches onto Harry's as your brow furrows

then, you shake your head profusely to clear it of the dazing fog, beginning to think of strategies

"So, Accio could work well, and convincing the dragon that whatever you need is harmful to it could be a good plan."

suddenly, you're flittering around researching, books often sprawled over your lap as you fall asleep late into the night or early into the next morning

Harry is doing much the same, his library card used for the first time in ages to borrow a huge stack of hardbacks

you wouldn't admit it to Harry, but you knew dragons could be dangerous and had previously researched the ones you had seen

because it was obvious Harry already knew the stakes

you were allowed in the tent with him for preparation and you gave him a quick peck on the cheek and a hug before leaving for the stands

A camera flash made spots dance before your eyes as Harry pulled away from you and groaned, seemingly complaining about whatever you had yet to see.

And when you swivelled to see what was behind you, your expression mirrored your boyfriend's look of exasperation.

"So, Harry Potter, I do believe you're going to be competing in just a moment, and, of course, I just had to capture that lovely moment between you and your apparent partner!"

That was the only explanation given as Rita pranced off, muttering something about how this would make a headline.

Meanwhile, Harry was too busy burying his head into your shoulder, neck aflame with pink blush.

"Just can't get a moment alone."

Another camera flash drew forth another protest from Harry, as the journalist continued to ignore him and let her pen spin her next exaggerated story.

when he froze up both you and Hermione began to yell about his wand

your hand was holding Hermione's in a death grip, one she returned

and when he decided to summon his broom you had let your head fall into your hands because you had expected him to do something like Accio the egg or float the dragon above him so that he could just take it

though you supposed the latter option would require a lot of concentration and straining

in the minutes he was flying over the castle, your foot was tapping impatiently and your heart was pounding

then, he returned and you were eager to join the crowd in their celebration

when Cedric says something about a bath, you instantly realise what he actually means but decide to let Harry decide if Ced's into him or not skjsksk-

when he returns later, grinning then spotting you sat near the fire (someone let you in if you aren't a Gryffindor???) his eyebrows raise

"You knew what it was, didn't you?"

You hummed affirmatively as he gave a look of betrayal, and then unexpectedly pounced, digging his knuckles into your sides as you laughed.

"Have mercy!"

"Never!"

When he stopped eventually, he told you of what the clue was through breathy puffs of air and gasped giggles remaining from before.

"Right then, to the library!"

After a moment's hesitation, you spoke again from your place in Harry's lap, "That sounded far too much like a superhero phrase for my liking, but we're going anyways."

Harry chuckled and took the hand you extended to him, rising and wrapping an arm around your shoulders before walking with you to the door, "Alright, my love, let's go research. Just what I wanted to do tonight!"

His false enthusiasm made you smirk while you flounced down the corridor, quite elated to be going to the library anyway.

you tell Harry you think gillyweed would work for the second task, but that it's probably good to double check with bestie Neville

then, you and Neville agree and discuss the best quantities to use and more

"English please, darling."

"Basically, we need to prepare the amount so it'll last the full hour instead of, like, twenty minutes. Just in case, you know?"

getting closer to the tournament's second task, you are both more on edge than ever, you because Harry could die, and Harry, well, because Harry could die

you try to band together, however there are a few snaps at one another

it is apologised for every time and every time the person is told it's understandable

you both accept how easy it is to argue and antagonise each other but attempt to avoid any unnecessary disagreements

"You could die! And we don't even know what the third task is yet!"

"(Y/N), Dumbledore has assured us no one is dying! Isn't the word of our headmaster enough?"

"Harry James Potter, let me tell you something, just a little secret that everyone knows apart from you... Dumbledore's promises aren't worth shit!"

And whilst your voice started off in a spiteful tone, your next sentences were tender as tears filled your eyes.

"I could lose you, and I don't know what I would do. I can't trust that my boyfriend will be okay just with a few affirmations... because I love you, Har. And I'm going to worry no matter what. You're worrying too, I can see it."

that night ended with more tears but you did make up and calm down

arguements were stemmed from concern and whomever was the provoker had good intentions but didn't know how to communicate their feelings (awkward teenage things)

though, you were still cheering for him at the second task and rushed at him when he came up to the surface

"Good to see you too, sweetheart."

"Oh my word, you must be freezing, love, I brought an extra towel because I know the exact temperature of the lake is-"

And through shivers, he interrupts, "Cold. I gathered."

and I'm so sorry but the third task, I can't-

I'm only going to do a small section because ugh I'll cry

You awaited with baited breath, grinning with ecstasy when you heard the announcer state Harry and Cedric had the cup.

You didn't know that smile would soon fade.

you support Harry through his nightmares and try to help him see it was never his fault and never would be

[togetherweflyhigh]

It’s Okay (drabble)

Genre: Nonidol, a/b/o, a bit of angst from reader, fluff, established relationship

Pairings: Alpha!Seokjin x Omega!gender-neutral reader

Warnings: None

W/C: 1,285

A/N: I’ve been wanting to write something small and sweet for a while now. Literally the summary popped in and said hello and demanded to be wrote. 

Summary: Seokjin comes home to you making a nest which is… unusual.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are very much encouraged! Thank you!!

"What are you doing?" The question comes as Seokjin takes in the atmosphere of the current state of the bedroom. 

Walking through the front door things were off. The usual sweet scent of lavender and rosemary were replaced with the scent of rotten oranges. Before reaching the bedroom, all the couch pillows were gone along with the few throw blankets that were laying around. Guest bedrooms were completely scavenged of blankets and pillows. 

You have never done this. Even though you’re an omega, you never have nested before or for as long as you two have been together and that’s been a while. 

You were stacking the last of the pillows onto the bed when caught. “I…” You had no idea what you were doing either but you did know nothing was organized in the way that you wanted it and that felt frustrating just looking at it. “I don’t know.” The sudden feeling of embarrassment overcomes you as you sit in the pile. Your parents were both alphas so when you came along it was shocking when you presented as an omega.

When an alpha and another alpha have a baby, it’s rare. It’s even rarer that the baby ends up being an omega. Nonetheless, they loved you but the mindset of growing up in the shadows of alphas never left you. In a way, you felt a bit broken. You weren’t like them but you also didn’t act like an omega. 

It was common for the omega to just stay home but you didn’t want that. No, you got a few jobs in the past and were currently somehow still working at a restaurant. It was hard to get work as an omega since no one wanted to grow out of old ways. 

Seokjin comes over to sit next to you on the messy bed. “What’s wrong, my love?” A gentle hand is placed on your knee. Your scent wasn’t getting any better so something was clearly up. “Did something happen at work?” Of course, it was something at work. It was the only time the two of you were away from each other except for when Seokjin had business trips to attend. 

You knew Seokjin didn’t mind you ranting out your feelings but sometimes, like now, you just wanted to curl up in bed. “Yeah..” You speak softly, hanging your head low. You were still reeling with embarrassment from being caught attempting to build a nest. There were a few times in the past where you had wanted to build one but it just never felt right. “I kind of messed up a lot today.” The tickling heat of tears can be felt building up around your eyes and nose as you recall the events. 

It started off like any other day. The normal morning rush and, of course, the usual lunch rush but today was the busiest workday you've ever experienced. Orders were getting mixed up causing everything to become slower as you tried fixing it, a tray of drinks slipping out of your hands destroying all the glassware, even the computer system went down for a few hours making a payment with a card impossible. By far the angriest customers in one day you have ever dealt with. Sure, making a few mistakes here and there was okay but for an entire day was just too much.

“It’s okay, let's not worry about it right now.” If you weren’t speaking now then it was clear to Seokjin that you weren’t up for a recap. Instead, he stands looking at the pile of blankets and pillows. “Do you want me to help you with this?” You looked surprised at him before turning your head to the bed.  “I don’t know. I think I should put everything back.” 

“You seemed like you were on a mission before I interrupted. Why not give it a try since everything is here?” Seokjin was being so gentle and encouraging. You ponder a moment before agreeing. There was still awkwardness lingering in you. Nesting was so commonly known to be done by omegas and yet here you are attempting your first. Even when you went through heats, you never made one but the temptation was always there. 

“Want me to leave?” You didn’t want to say yes to him as he literally just got home but you also didn’t want to say no. Seokjin reaches down, petting your head. “How about I make a snack run for us?” He was trying to give you some privacy seeing how uncomfortable you were with this new action. “Can we order takeout?” 

The two of you settled on tteok-bokki and kimchi fried rice, something familiar before Seokjin is headed to the store. 

You returned to the room now alone with the mess. Seokjin would be back within forty minutes or less. It felt odd. You didn’t know what to do but at the same time, you knew exactly what to do. With some minutes going by trying to decide rather put everything back or to make an attempt. You heard Seokjin’s ‘why not’ ring through your head and decided to take on the action once again.

The pillows were laid out like a barrier on the edges of the bed with a few of the lighter blankets covering them. The bigger blankets and some smaller pillows from the couch were inside. It made the bed look like an actual nest.

Crawling over into the nest for the first time ever was the most affirming thing you’d experience as an omega. What about it was suddenly making you feel so much better and just euphoric? It was so new to you still you couldn’t put a finger on it. Curling up in the blankets, you basked in the new warm and fuzzy feeling. This was definitely something you have been missing out on.

Time seemed to fly by because Seokjin was suddenly home again and the discomfiture was threatening to start welling up again. 

You only raised up enough to peek over the edge of the fluffy walls around you when you heard the rustling of plastic and feet walking into the room. It felt like there was a hand reaching into Seokjin’s chest and just squeezing his heart as tight as possible seeing his omega in their first nest. It was by far the most endearing thing he’d ever seen you do. 

“It looks nice, may I come in?” 

Seokjin didn’t know much about the nesting process, especially how it was with you. Even be possessive over their space. Earlier, he could sense there was uneasiness about it, thus the reason he thought to go out for a bit. He was glad he did because getting to witness you like this was going to be memorable for a long time. 

“Of course!” Your voice sounded tiny and as if you were starting to destress. It brought a sense of happiness and relief that you were. 

After very carefully climbing into the nest, making sure not to knock anything out of place, he planted a kiss on your forehead before going through the two bags of snacks with you. The only time you left the nest was to eat the takeout food in the kitchen as you feared it would get on something if eaten in the newly built nest. Though, you still ate snacks in it. That night when the two of you laid down finally, you told Seokjin about what happened at work. 

“It’s okay. Mistakes happen sometimes when we least expect them. I’m sure everything will be okay.” With reassuring words, your head calms for the moment as Seokjin holds you a little tighter for the night.

[moxfirefly]

So I’ve been working on this for a little while now after a comment @supershiny-raven left on one of my post. I present to you:

How the others find out you and the turtles are dating.

Raphael entered the Lair with you in his arms. His brothers stumbling by him, Leonardo actually tripping.

The gang had gone to drink at Vern’s fancy penthouse, a round of drinks had turned to four and before anybody had common sense he had broken out his fancy wine collection.

That had truly been everyone’s undoing.

Yours as well.

Raphael the tank had pretty much only gotten buzzed, even more so upon seeing your state he figured he needed to somehow get you and everyone else home safe and in one piece.

“Where do we dump Donnie?” April had one of his arms slung over her shoulder while Mikey had his other, they had quickly found out the purple banded terrapin was a fan of wine. “Whatever is flat and comfortable, you think you can manage him and Leo?” Raphael nudged his older brother who had dozed off while resting against the couch.

“Yeah yeah brah, we totally-“ He unceremoniously let his brother fall on the nearest cot, poor April taken along for the ride. “Shit, sorry girly”

Raph shook his head, you groaned stirring awake and tightening your hold on him. Raph was basically carrying you with one arm beneath your rear. Making his way towards his room he gently placed you on his bed and set about the task of removing your shoes. “Hey hey mister, I got a boyfriend” You squinted at the large terrapin at the end of the bed.

“Yeah I heard, lucky guy gets to put ya drunk ass to bed, where’s your makeup bag baby?” He got up when you half hazardously pointed at the dresser.

Pushing yourself up a little on your elbows you watched him gather your face creams and a pack of makeup wipes. He sat back down but next to you and motioned towards his lap. “C’mere, let’s get your face off” You giggled when he manhandled you onto his thigh and took out the wipes. Slowly and in the most excruciatingly loving way Raphael set out to wipe off your makeup. Each stroke removing foundation and eyeshadow, you mumbled something he somehow understood in your inebriated state. “Yeah yeah I got ya kid” With all the careful dexterity he developed over time, he gently removed your eyelashes.

“Somebody has been paying attention” You giggled, feeling the buzz in your body shift into grogginess. Raphael looked inside the bag, adding some cream to your face to hydrate it. He examined his work, a lazy smile as he caressed your face. It felt bizarre he could actually do this, touch a beautiful girl and do something so silly as help them out with their face routine. The two of you had been rather quiet about your relationship, enjoying it all to yourselves.

“Ya were the cutest drunk at that party” He ran his knuckles across your chin, You smiled sleepily lifting up enough to catch his lips in a languid kiss.

The door creaked open and there stood April, her own slightly drunk face breaking out into a sweet smile. The two pairs of eyes that landed on her read ‘get out’ and ‘keep your mouth shut’ slowly April backed up nodding with a giggle.

Then there was a ruckus of what Raphael only assumed was April tripping and Leo drunkly laughing his ass off.

____________

Michelangelo

Oh he was screwed.

So insanely screwed.

How could he misplace something he kept on his person so diligently?

Mikey turned over everything he could in his room, currently he had done just that with the mattress but to no avail.

His phone was missing.

His phone with that very scandalous polaroid you’d taken for him.

Mikey had nearly passed out when you gifted him the picture and to his delight he had stuck the polaroid on the back of his phone in its clear phone case. He kept his phone on him all the time, sure he’d have to be a little sneaky about placing it down but he could manage.

Now though? He was about to have a coronary.

Okay, currently in this disaster there was no trace of it. This meant he’d have to scavenge the living room.

Where his family was.

Mikey swallowed and scurried out with a silent prayer that it would there.

Raphael and Leonardo were currently watching a basketball game. They seemed pretty engrossed and perhaps wouldn’t notice that he was scouring the ends of the earth for his actual girlfriend’s literal boobs. He peaked aglance at the couch, his large brothers had to take up so much space to make it worse.

“What are you looking for?” Came Donnie’s voice from the kitchen. The orange banded turtle froze, he tried giving him a nonchalant shrug. “Just checking how I can give Raph a wedgie ya know” Donnie raised a brow ridge, mug of coffee to his lips.

“I double dare ya numbnuts, the Knicks are down ten points and I’m pissed” Raph grunted as the opposing team landed another shot and Leo sighed exasperated with the outcome. His eldest brother got up thankfully which allowed him to take a look at the that side of the sofa. To his dread but relief there wasn’t anything.

Where the fuck was his phone?!

“Hey snot face, can ya order a pizza?” Raph grumbled as the game seem to worsen, a pizza could fix up his mood. Mikey frozen, mouthing a series of ‘shit shit shit’ as he frantically looked around.

“Oh man that would fix this terrible game, can you order it with extra bacon too?” Leo went straight to the fridge to grab something to drink. “Order some cheesy sticks too will you?” Donnie asked as he poured himself another mug of coffee.

Yes all of this sounded wonderful and his stomach did grumble but

HIS GIRLFRIENDS BOOBS.

Raph had scooted further to grab his own soda from the coffee table and just as he did he saw his phone. Relief washed over him but to his immense dismay and terror, the back of his phone was facing up. Which means the clear case he had was displaying the infamous polaroid he had been gifted.

You had simply asked him one thing.

‘Please don’t let your brothers see my tits’

It all felt slow motion, his eyes going wide, his hand diving to the couch and just as he did, Raph’s quick reflexes kicked in unfortunately and he turned to grab his youngest brothers wrist. “Ya ain’t giving me a wedgie man!!”

Raph’s eyes followed Mikey’s hand and then his eyes bugged out.

“Why are there titties on the sofa?!” Raph made for the phone but only got a face full of pillow cushion. He snatched the phone before it could be grabbed by anybody else. The red banded brute grinned as his brother hugged the phone to his chest. “Advert your gaze you perv!” Mikey all but shrieked.

“I’m not the one walking around with a titty pic as my phone cover” Raph grinned, just to make matters worse Leo and Donnie had gathered.

“Mikey why are you walking around with a random porn pic on your phone cover” Came Donnie’s disapproving tone.

“It’s a polaroid” Was all Raph needed to say.

The silence that fell was brief, then a series of ‘ooh’s’ sounded off and Mikey all but frowned and felt his cheeks heat up.

“No way! That can’t be...” Leo was incredulous. The relationship between Mike and you had remained rather on the down low. It was fun, a little secret away from the world that could stay between the two of you.

“Mikey, are you and y/n a thing?” Donnie asked exactly what the rest wanted to know but Mikey dreaded to answer. He sighed dramatically and tucked his phone into his pocket, shooting Raph a glare as his green eyes followed the motion.

“Listen dudes she made me promise that nobody would see that picture and I’ve already broken that cardinal rule thanks to this jerk face” He frowned at Raph, who in turn rolled his eyes.

“Well maybe keep the picture in your wallet or your room?” Leo sipped his soda with a matter of fact tone.

“Or as a background on your phone cause honestly man” Donnie smiled to himself when Mikey shot him an incredulous look. “Why’d she give you that?” Raph inquired sneakily with a smirk.

“For our three month anniver- AH YOU DICK” Mikey huffed out as Raph began to laugh, it was so easy to trick Mikey when one played their cards right.

____________

Donatello

Investigating could take a toll on anybody, even if by all means you weren’t a detective it still didn’t mean you wouldn’t find yourself researching and investigating crime. It seems to be part of the job description when you befriend four giant crime fighting terrapins.

In away you could help, you did.

Everyone had huddled around the living room, the coffee table littered with pictures, clues and all sorts of pieces of evidence that could possibly lead to the culprit they were trying to catch. You had set down a stack of papers, eyes already screaming for a break. Leo and Casey were at the kitchen talking, Casey had just clocked out and was reporting back what the nights investigations had gathered. Raph and Mikey were checking out the pictures Casey had brought over and Donnie naturally was researching on a laptop he’d placed there.

You had nudged him to come over and join the huddle, and secretly you just wanted him close. The two of you were dating, quietly and unannounced, but in those first few stages of just wanting to be glued to one another it was a little difficult to do said glueing.

On a few occasions with prying eyes preoccupied with their investigating, you had reached over to rub his cheek, his sleepy eyes spoke greatly of how tired he felt. Donnie had been at this already for a while, you’d been there with him along the way.

With a stretch of his arms, Donnie yawned and rolled his neck. The clock on your phone read 3:45am, he was due for a nap at the very least. “Why don’t you lie down, I can keep helping out here” You reached over again and took off his glasses, he smiled tiredly but shook his head. “I’m fine, I can keep going” Despite his entire body language screaming otherwise, Donnie would always soldier on.

By the time another hour passed, people consumed enough Coffee to give themselves an additional pulse (and somebody committed the mistake of giving Mikey said coffee) the investigation had died down. A few walls were hit but a few leads had come from it as well. Everyone was ready to call it a night (or morning).

Casey yawned, twisting his neck to let out a few pops. “Okay who’s staying and who’s coming with me?” By the sounds of April softly snoring against an equally happily snoring Raph, it seemed she would stay. Casey had a few hours of sleep to catch on before heading for his next shift and you had to preoccupy yourself with the same before tackling a night shift at your job. Donnie’s tired eyes expressed how he wanted you to stay over but he knew work was closer to your place.

“I guess I’m carpooling with you” You told Casey, already grabbing your jacket and bag. A quick hug to Leo and Mikey, a bow to a recently awaken Splinter and you were next to Donnie.

He’d been sitting on the kitchen table, arms crossed and looking closer to being k.o’d.

It was the sleep deprivation honestly, on both your behalves.

Because you had spread your arms for a hug and so had he, but your face had met in the middle and before either of your foggy brains could comprehend what was happening you had smooched him.

On the lips.

For about a minute.

Minute and a half honestly.

You both froze, the awake members of the family staring with raised brows. Donnie furrowed his brows, lips pursed in a thin line, you still had your own in a kissing motion.

“Well at least we solved one mystery tonight” Spoke Mikey with a snicker, Leo nudged him.

Donnie sighed by shrugged. “Not exactly how I wanted to announce this so yup, I’m her boyfriend, she’s my girlfriend, please hold all inquires for a later time when I’m actually awake” He pulled you in again for a hug, and another kiss (greedy boy) and instructed Casey to deliver you home safely.

With a blush but albeit happy look on your face you waved everyone off.

___________

Leonardo

Keeping a relationship quiet had never proven to be so difficult. Truthfully it came easier when the circle of people surrounding you was bigger, but a close knit one? Everyone suddenly had the powers of observation up to God level.

But Leo’s ninja skills were God level too and you knew how to keep your trap shut and not sigh like a love struck teenager every second you saw him. So it had gone good, real good for a while. The thrill of maybe sharing an intimate kiss while others we’re around was a sensation you never expected to enjoy. When it was time to leave, Leo would ‘walk you’ home safely and by ‘miracle’ run into a few thugs on his way back.

Because there’s no reason a brisk ten minute walk to your apartment should turn into an hour and a half.

Raph wasn’t buying but cared little to stick his nose into it. Donnie was too busy to bother. Mikey had an idea but decided due to bro code not to voice it.

His father though?

Splinter knows what’s going on because well, he’s Splinter. You live long enough with four giant sons all with their unique personalities and traits, you pick up a thing or two about parenting pretty easily.

And Splinter is a phenomenal parent.

Both Father and Mother to his sons.

So naturally he’s irked that his eldest is sneaking out at odd hours and trying to conceal his return. Because Splinter feels that out of all four, Leo has always been the most open with him. Once Raph hit those pre-pubescent mood swings, Donnie began to teach himself all matter of subjects and Mikey was too busy trying to set a new record of heart attacks to give his father while skateboarding; Leo always remained the same.

Even with all the acolytes Leo has achieved in his ninjutsu training, he still had his hiccups and his father would never spare the opportunity to turn into a teaching moment.

So when Leo had kissed you passionately on his way out of your window, you still in nothing but the skin that he had dedicated a fair amount of time in kissing and bitting. He thought he was being slick, he thought he was going to ninja his way into the Lair, into the showers and straight to his bed.

What he didn’t account for was his father waiting up on him. A mug of hot tea on the kitchen table and hands clasps together in what Leo recognized all to well as ‘Dad Mode’.

He’d been caught with the proverbial hand in the cookie jar. His gear was half hazardously on, mask slipped down around his neck and for Christ sake he was holding a shoe. It was 6:30am and he smelled like a girl, a pretty girl no less. The jig was up, especially when his dad motioned for him to come forth and seat opposite him at the kitchen table.

“Dad I can ex-“ Splinter held up a finger and pushed the mug of tea towards his disheveled eldest son.

“My son, I am not angry” Which was truthful, he wasn’t, in fact he was ecstatic that Leo had found somebody, somebody good and somebody that loved him for he has. Long ago he had accepted the pain that his sons would not find suitable partners and the ache it would come with for them. But here was Leo, nervous and trying to adjust his clothing because he’d been with a woman, a woman he clearly loved.

“I like y/n, she is kind, thoughtful and caring to us” Splinter emphasized each trait with a tap of a long nail on the table. “She should be treated with respect, I hope I have instilled that teaching unto you, a lady is to be respected Leonardo” Leo nodded at his fathers words, he nodded and prayed that the underwear he had stuffed into his pockets wouldn’t magically transport on the table to further humiliate him.

“So please my son, do not lie to me, do not come home late in this state and not expect me to know what has transpired” Dad voice was on, coupled with the sympathetic eyes though, man Splinter was good at this shit.

Leo hung his head, clearly ashamed of his dishonorable doings. “Hai, sensei” Even as an adult being scolded by his father never stopped hurting.

“And please do tell her that there isn’t anything hide, she is welcomed in our home, I would not mind getting to know my future daughter in law a little bit more” Splinter enjoyed the way his son nearly choked on his tea.

“Perhaps I can tell her a few anecdotes of your growing up” He smiled when Leo looked at him with pleading eyes. “I believe I have a few embarrassing ones she will find most delightful” He stood up and placed a hand on his sons broad shoulder. “I’m sorry dad, sorry for sneaking around and not telling you” He was earnest in his words and Splinter bowed his head.

“I know, thank you Leonardo” He walked away, hands behind his back.

Leo sighed and pulled out his phone, shooting you a quick text.

-so my dad wants to formally meet you... as in introduce you as my girlfriend.

It felt nice to hit send on that message.

[uncpanda]

The Ties that Bind: Library

Synopsis of series: Being the older sister of a literal genius? It’s not easy. Raising said genius from childhood on? An act of love. Uprooting your life again when he gets in over his head? A no brainer. Finding a new family and support system for yourself? Well, you suppose that’s just luck.

Master List

AN: Let’s go back in time to tiny Spencer and Reader and Spencer’s first trip to the library!!! 

You look down at your little brother, and smile at what you find; his mouth is wide open and his eyes are huge, and when he speaks he’s a little breathless, “It’s amazing. LOOK AT ALL THE BOOKS!” 

You’re quick to shush him as the librarian's gaze drifts to you, “You have to be quiet Spencer. The library is a quiet place, where people come to read and study.” 

His voice immediately dips into a whisper, “It’s amazing.” 

You smile and take his hand, thrilled that this idea had come to you a few days ago. Mom and William had been fighting more and more lately, and it had begun to stress Spencer out. So far, he’d slept in your room every night this week, and more than once he had climbed out of his sleeping bag and into your bed. One morning you’d woken up with his head at the foot of the bed, and his feet in your face. That hadn’t been pleasant. 

You take Spencer up to the counter, where Mrs. Jacobs is waiting. You’d talked to her earlier in the week about getting Spencer his very own library card. It had taken some finagling, but it had worked. She’s beyond kind to your little brother, and her patience is astounding. She explains the entire system to Spencer: how the books are sorted, the checkout process, how the books should be treated, and how important it is for him to not lose his card. 

He, wisely, asks you to hang onto it, and then peppers Mrs. Jacobs with a series of questions. When he’s done, and deciding which way he wants to go she says, “You weren’t kidding about his intelligence.” 

You spend hours in the library, most of the day in fact, and by the time you’re ready to go home Spencer has a stack as tall as him. You don’t let him checkout every book, and reassure him that you’ll bring him back soon. If your parents keep fighting the way they have been, you imagine the two of you will spend quite a bit of time here. 

Mrs. Jacobs grins as she checks out the book, and Spencer beams when he hands her his library card. You have to actually steer him out of the building, after placing his books in your backpack. 

The two of you manage to make it home before the street lights come on, and you find your mom lying on the couch. Her eyes are open, and she’s staring at nothing. That doesn’t stop Spencer from going over to tell her all about the library and show her his library card. You can tell he’s disappointed when she doesn’t respond. 

He perks up when you give him his books back though, and he takes them straight to your room. While he reads you make sandwiches; one for Spencer, one for your mom, one for William, and one for you. Spencer eats his quickly, before running back to his books. Your mother doesn’t touch hers, and you leave your dad’s out on the counter for him, while you pick at your own food. 

You get Spencer through his bedtime routine of a bath, pajamas, and brushing his teeth, before letting him snuggle into your bed. He’s out within minutes. You stay up. You check on your mom, putting your hand right in front of her mouth to make sure she’s still breathing. She’d closed her eyes a while ago, but hadn’t moved or made a sound since. 

William comes home close to ten, and he finds you at the kitchen table. He watches you for a second before asking, “What are you still doing up?” His tone is kind. 

“Wanted to make sure you got home okay.” 

He places a hand on top of your head, “Thank you sweetheart.” 

He goes to the fridge and notices the sandwich, “Your mom didn’t make dinner?” 

“She’s been sleeping.” 

He brings his plate to the table, and looks at you, “What would you say, if you Spencer 

and I went somewhere else? Without mom?”

You look up at him, “That I couldn’t go. She doesn’t do well on her own.” 

He takes a bite of the sandwich, “You shouldn’t have to take care of her. You shouldn’t have to take care of any of us.” 

You shrug, “I don’t mind.” 

“You’re nine. You should be spending time with friends.” 

“Spencer’s my brother. That’s better than a friend. You told me that.” 

He pauses, “Yes, I did. And now I’m saying thank you for the sandwich, and it’s time for bed.” 

You hesitate, “You’re going to be here, when I wake up, right?” 

“Of course. I’m your dad. I’ll always be here.” 

You nod once, and head to your bedroom. You find Spencer sleeping in a starfish position on your bed. Instead of trying to move him and rearrange him, you tuck into his sleeping bag, and you allow yourself to drift to sleep.      

Tag List: 

@hateinthemorning @nightressposts @bulldozed88 @toastedside @am3l1a-24 @wintelu @escapingthoughtsandsecrets @moonwarriorx3 @fallen-wolf22 @donttellanyoneireadfanfiction @kathleenjasmine @l-vvne @sekhmet5 @lil-frenchfri77  @prettylittlemoonlight @webreathfandoms @fandomsstolemylife00 @gracesd1ary @eli-side-blog @sleepy-time @bcarolinablr @acoolnight @violet-potter @ssavanessa22 @inlovewithhonestlyeveryone @louisaland @averyhotchner @lostinwonderland314 @prentisswrites @starandbooklover @vxxn128 @csloreen @srosegarden @zetasaturno99 @greenprisca @rouge-fandoms @fandom-oneshots-etc  @elejah88  @cm-chaos @thestarssalign @gspenc @mochionly @Jinxy_175  @big-galaxy-chaos @princess76179 @unaware-dumbass-here @miahelen @baumarvel @sydbriann @cm-chaos​ @infinite-tides​ @rexit-mo​ @belledawnidk​ @rousethemouse​ @bluepvnkrocker @evans-dejong @pixietilly1924 

[bruhstories]

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock.  Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

[albaedhoe]

endearments

pairing : albedo x gn!reader

summary : having known albedo since forever ago, of course you have silly endearments for him.

word count : 2.2k

what you call him:

(My) Prince

Is the first and the most used nickname you’ve given him! When he was given the title “Kreideprinz”, you had started to call him Prince to make fun of him for it. You swear you call him Prince more than his actual name- it bugged Albedo at first but he eventually warmed up to it

“Prince! Master says that we need to collect slime condensate!” You yell while running to Albedo, who was busy carefully adding droplets of a solution into a flask. Although, due to your sudden outburst, his concentration was ruined and he squeezed the pipette too harshly. The concoction turns from a light blue to a harsh red, the familiar smell of smoke filling the air around you and slight sparks in the flask, but Albedo was too fascinated by the reaction that he didn’t notice.

“Watch out!” Grabbing the glass from Albedo’s hand, you threw it as far away as you could. “What-” Albedo was still confused. Pulling him to your chest and swivelling so that your back faced the direction where you threw the bottle, an explosion erupted and the ground rumbles. Once deemed safe, you let him go.

“I’m sorry that I ruined your experiment but next time, please don’t hold onto the after product of my accident when it clearly gave out sparks and the smell of smoke, my Prince.” You could see Albedo pout the tiniest bit at your tone while he looks away, “Fine, and I thought I told you not to call me Prince.”

Eyes filled with mischief and a soft smile gracing your lips, you were lucky he wasn’t facing you. ‘He didn’t deny that he was mine...’ you thought.

When you and Albedo had been sent to Mond through recommendation by your master, - Albedo being assigned as Chief Alchemist and Captian of the Investigation Team; While you were his assistant and second in command - everyone had first thought that he was an actual Prince. I mean, he had the looks and this regal aura around him so it wouldn’t be surprising if he was one. After many misunderstandings and explanations, the people of Mondstat eventually grow accustomed of your nickname towards the genius.

“Psst, do you reckon they’re staring at us because we’re not from here?” Walking side by side with Albedo, you tried to ignore the curious stares you received from some of the citizens as you climbed the stairs leading to the knights of Favonius headquarters. Some stared openly, some didn’t give you a glance and minded their business.

Not looking up from his newly bought book, Albedo mutters something only you could hear. “Maybe it’s because you yelled ‘what do you want me to cook for dinner, my Prince?’ at the gates.” You think about it for a bit but couldn’t understand what your lover was implying. Albedo snorts slightly, despite you being the same level of knowledge as him when regarding alchemy, you were very oblivious. “Since there is no patriarchy in mondstat, they would be curious if a so called ‘Prince’ were to enter their city.”

A light went off in your head. “Oh! That makes sense, I guess.”

It didn’t matter how serious the situation is or who is around the two of you. It didn’t even matter if Albedo was there at all! You would still refer to him as the nickname and the knights of Favonius (mainly Kaeya) would tease him about it if you weren’t around. The first time you called Albedo ‘Prince’ infront of Kaeya wasn’t eventful but still had an impact on the said alchemist;

“I’ll be at the giant tree in Windrise if you need me, Prince!” You wave goodbye to your partner. “Prince, huh? How cute. Would you like me to call you ‘Prince’ too?” Kaeya teases Albedo as he watches you leave the meeting room. Sorting the numerous transfer documents in his hand, Albedo says nothing but releases a small sigh, “I’d prefer it if Y/n were the only one that does, Captain Kaeya.” Silence fills the room.

Slowly realising what he had just said, Albedo walks away from the knight and to his new lab. Closing the door behind him, he makes sure that no one else is around, sensing if there were any footsteps heading towards his study. Once the coast was clear, Albedo’s gloved fingers card through his hair. Though parts of his ears were hidden among the loose hairs that escaped his braids, it was obvious that the tips were just as rosy as his cheeks. “I told you not to call me that infront of others...”

Starlight

This nickname originated when you paid close attention to the star-like marking on his neck. Though it was slightly unusual, you thought of it as charming and it complimented his outfits very well. Not many people have said this to him before so he doesn’t know how to respond to you.

You would call Albedo ‘Starlight’ when he would be in the state of insecurity and/or doubt. Pulling him aside to another room or a secluded part of a room, you would whisper reassurances and hold his hands or cradle his face. Never will you call him Starlight infront of others, it’s your own secret nickname for him that you would rather people not know about. You call him Starlight to remind him that he is the brightest and most serene person you have met on this earth. To Albedo, it’s comforting and he thanks you for thinking this way of him.

“Starlight, hey, look at me,” you cooed. Albedo looked forward but not at you, softly placing the palms of your hands on his face, you gently forced him to look into your worried eyes. His own no longer held that mesmerising shine and were instead dull and fatigued. “I’m here now. I’m fine. I didn’t leave you.”

One month prior to this scene, you had travelled to parts of Liyue in order to collect ores and minerals for Albedo’s new experiment hypothesis, so being his assistant, you went for him. Promising him that it’ll only take a week, what you didn’t expect was to be ganged up on and ambushed by treasure hoarders, multiple times.

Thankfully, you’re a vision user, meaning that you could easily take down these bandits, but there’s only so much a person can use their powers. Exhausted, battered scathed in multiple places, you decided to rest in Liyue Harbour for a couple of more days. You haven’t even collected half the materials needed for Albedo! You couldn’t just go back to Mondstat almost empty handed. You injuries won’t heal immediately so that means collection time will be much slower than normal, not to mention you have to be cautious travelling back as well.

When finally arriving at your shared home, it was a literal dump. Papers were scattered across the floor and the dishes were piling up. You partner wasn’t home at the moment so you decide to make use of your time and clean the house. Hours pass by and the door creaks open, Albedo walks in. He notices that the house is much more clean than the state he last left it in, his guard is up. That is, until you walk out from the kitchen, sleeves rolled up with a wooden spoon at hand.

“Welcome back!” Albedo’s eyes must be tricking him again. He wouldn’t be surpised since he hasn’t had proper rest since your departure, only ever taking two or three hour naps on occasion. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the ‘hallucination’ of you would disappear, but you didn’t. Brows furrowed and plenty of blinking, Albedo concludes that you are, in fact, real.

He slowly makes his way over to you, trapping you in his hold. Burying his face between your neck and shoulder, Albedo relishes in your presence and scent. He wasn’t aware that he was trembling, all of his exhaustion and constant state of insecurities finally catching up to him, until you cupped his face, which leads to now.

You would also sometimes call him Starlight to express worry. To maintain his serenity, he needs to look after himself, of course . Times like these are usually when he doesn’t come out of his study for the whole day. This means he most likely hasn’t eaten or drank anything during this period. You would occasionally pop in with a meal and force him to take a break. Albedo gets slightly irritated at the interruption but he knows you mean well in the long run.

During these breaks he would ask about your day, have you been working on a new experiment of your own or have you found anything that may prove useful in the future, all of that. You happily answer all of his questions, asking some of your own too.

Knock, knock. “Come in.” Opening the door to Albedo’s laboratory you balance two plates, one in the palm of your left hand and the other resting on your forearm. “Sorry to interrupt, but you haven’t left your study all day, Starlight.” Albedo catches onto the use of the nickname, so, having no desire to start a fight between the two of you, he pushes aside unnecessary books off of his desk to make room.

Knowing that Albedo’s appetite was small, you made only a few slices of meat on his dish with a selection of vegetables. The other plate in your grasp had a stack of cookies, freshly made from the comfort of your own home. You hear Albedo mutter a small thanks and started to dig into the food you brought him. While he focused on eating, you focused on him.

The afternoon light that penetrated through the window and lit the room had beautifully graced Albedo with its rays. Golden hour seems to favour the young alchemist as it kisses his skin gently. You watched as his light, ashy, blonde hair frames his face, a few loose strands escaping the braid you put up for him this morning before work. Comfortable silence fills the room except for the scraping of utensils.

Albedo wasn’t sure if he should bring up the way you looked at him in times like these. Your irises were filled with so much affection and love, he could almost see his reflection of how brightly your eyes shone at him. Though, Albedo keeps quiet. Afraid that you may become shy and refuse to look at him. He rather enjoys being the centre of your attention.

bonus ::

what he calls you:

Häschen = bunny

Albedo will only ever call you this if he wants something, such as: to see you blush or simply because he’s in a teasing mood. I’d say the endearment formed because you look or act cute to him. The first time he’d call you Häschen would be a complete accident.

While Albedo was sorting and writing documents about his new found discovery, you were lazing around on the sofa, in your back with arms raised, reading a rather interesting book. To his dismay, Albedo’s ink pot, after hours of torture, was beginning to run out. Not looking up from his papers, Albedo didn’t want his concentration and motivation to deplete if he got up. “Could you get me another ink pot, Häschen?” Albedo asks you politely, unaware of what he just said.

A loud thud bounces off the walls and enters the alchemist’s ears. Glancing at you rather than the book on the floor, he sees crimson flare across your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Despite the slow throbbing coming from the bridge of your nose and forehead, you didn’t mind it all. Rather, the blood that rushed to your face masked it, making you only feel a radiating heat. “W-What did you call me?” Thinking back to what he said, Albedo soon matched the expression on your face.

Albedo takes advantage of the fact that the two of you were from a different part of Teyvat, where the language is different. He calls you Häschen infront of others on purpose to watch your reaction, while the others around you don’t understand what it means.

“Sorry to cut the conversation short but Häschen and I need to head out to Dragonspine while the sun is still up.” Your eyes almost bulge out of their sockets as you whip your head to face Albedo in a double take, giving him a look. If you looked close enough, you could see the mischievous and knowing glint in Albedos eyes. Trying your best not to show your growing blush, you feign interest towards the floor.

“Häschen?” Jean, the acting grand master, asks out loud what everyone else in the room were thinking. Silently pleading to yourself that Albedo won’t say anything about it, sweat rolled down your temple. “Ah, it’s Y/n’s other name. I say it out of habit sometimes.” Albedo couldn’t hide the teasing tone in his voice from anybody at this point. Having enough, you grasp the fabric over Albedo’s elbow and began to drag him out of Jean’s office. “Alrighty, guess we better head off now. Bye, everyone.”

Making sure that nobody was in earshot, you scolded your lover, letting go of his coat and stopped walking to face him. “I thought I asked you to stop calling me that infron of everyone.” Albedo raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms, “will you stop calling me ‘Prince’?” Exaggerating a gasp, you clutched the area over your heart, faking hurt. “Now, why in The Seven would I do that?” Albedo chuckles at you and ruffles the top of your head. “Exactly,” he tuts.

a/n :: apologies if there was a mistranslation with Häschen, I used google translate-

I am also aware that Mondstat is based on Germany but lets ignore that as well-

[sageinacage]

Hey idk if ur prompts are open, but if they were, would you maybe want to do a Wilbur vs Charlie in who can wreck Tommy better like thing? 👀👀👀

"Friendly" Uno summary: tommy gets a bit too sassy in a game of uno with him, charlie, and wilbur. a/n: i was originally gonna write this in the dsmp but i literally just couldn't figure out how to do it without it being super ooc KSDFSKJ also just pretend charlie came to visit them in the UK LOL warnings: swearing, playful teasing/mocking (they're playing uno its bound to happen BAHAHA /lh) w/c: 1.6k IRL, Platonic

~

“C’mon, give me a green!” Wilbur growled, continuously picking up cards from the middle pile. He and his two friends, Tommy and Charlie, were playing a friendly game of Uno together on the floor of the living room. Well, “friendly.”

“HAH! Aww, poor Wilbyyy, so bad at Unooo…” Tommy cooed, his face painted with the biggest shit-eating grin. Wilbur scoffed, finally putting a green card down. “Tommy, every day you remind me of all my mistakes.” Wilbur jested, smirking at Tommy’s surprised face. “Yeah? Well-”

“Aha, draw four Toms!” Charlie interrupted, Tommy looking down at the middle pile to see a colorful “+4” card right in front of him. After a dramatic groan, the boy drew the cards. “You are horrible to me, Mr. Slimecicle.” Tommy pointed his finger in Charlie’s face, the dirty blonde only shrugged, chuckling at his antics.

Wilbur put down a red card, smiling at Charlie’s huff. “Really, the only color I don’t have?!” He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Don’t be all grumpy, it’s how the game works, yeah?” Wilbur gave a smug smirk, watching his friend reach for the pile to scout for a red card.

After more banter, the game started to move more smoothly… until they decided to start stacking “+2” and “+4” cards. The pile of them now added up to 14, but they still kept going. “Holy shit, this better not end on me!” Wilbur sighed, placing his final card he could stack. “Me neither.” Charlie agreed, placing his last card that could be stacked.

“This game is against me! I swear to god, this is rigged! You’re both cheating.” Tommy cried, huffing to himself while he started to pick up the 18 cards they all stacked up. “Tohohommy!” Wilbur broke into laughter, leaning his head back as high-pitched giggles left him. “We aren’t cheheating, you juhust suhuck.” Charlie snorted up a laugh, patting Tommy’s back as he whined again.

“You two are both big stupid bullies. You should be thankful I’m even playing a little card game with you.” Tommy huffed, making eye contact with Wilbur. “You’re so sassy today, n’awww- don’t tell me someone’s grumpy over just a ‘little’ card game!” Charlie teased, causing Wilbur to smirk at Tommy. “Yeah, are you up past your bedtime?”

“I hate you both so much. I will fight you both and win- at the same time.” The blonde claimed as he slapped a card down with enough force to accidentally push the card pile down. “Baby rage.” Wilbur scoffed, earning a dramatic gasp from Tommy. “I AM NOT A BABY!” He shouted, Wilbur and Charlie breaking into giggles again.

“That’s something a baby would say!”

“CHARLIE.”

Wilbur covered his face, laughter building up from his chest, Charlie following right in his footsteps. Tommy furrowed his eyebrows, grumbling. “You guys are assholes.” He spoke in a more playful tone, indicating that he wasn’t genuinely upset.

“Yeah, are we, Tommy?” Charlie put down his cards, looking at the boy. “Compared to how you’ve been treating us this evening, I don’t think we’re that bad.” Wilbur raised an eyebrow, also placing his cards down. “B- Bullshit! You guys are twats…?” Tommy cowered a bit at their growing smirks, putting his cards down as well.

“Twats, are we?”

“Wilbur, I don’t like his tone.”

Both men stood up, still with suspicious smiles on their faces, causing Tommy to stand up as well. “I d- don’t trust this.” The boy shuddered, backing up until he hit the couch, falling back onto it. “Don’t worry Charlie, I can take care of this.” Wilbur nodded, towering over Tommy.

“No, I think I can do it, I can definitely do it better.” Charlie stood next to him, an innocent smile plastered on his face. “Yeah? Well do you know all his tickle spots? No? That’s what I thought.”

Oh. Oh. So that is what this was about.

“I’m called the tickle monster around here for a reason, Charlie!” Wilbur kept on going, placing a sassy hand on his hip. “You clearly haven’t met me then, yet!” He quipped back, looking down at Tommy; whose face was bright red and a nervous but excited smile on his face.

“Let’s have Tommy answer then. Who’s better at wrecking you, Toms?” Wilbur smirked down at him, the blonde just covering his face. “D’awww, that’s not an answer! Hmm, how about this. Wilbur, we’ll team up and Tommy will answer that question when we’re finished.”

“Deal.”

“Wh- what? Guys… guhUHUYS-!” Bubbly laughter already took over Tommy as Wilburs fingers kneaded his waist. “What’s up? Wha’tcha need?” Charlie chuckled, walking two fingers up his ribcage. What they weren’t expecting was the loud squeal that left Tommy.

“Looks like I already found a tickle spot, Wilbur!” Charlie exclaimed, gently pinching around his top ribs, causing the boy to let out yet another squeal. “Wow, do you want a medal or something?” Wilbur snarked back sarcastically, glaring at the dirty blonde before massaging his thumb into one of Tommy’s hip bones.

“Wiiihihill! NOHOhoho!” Tommy tried to twist left to right, but that damn feeling on his hip bone just wouldn’t secede. Charlie furrowed his eyebrows, seeing that Wilbur was back in the lead. He reached his other hand around and formed it like a claw, and then vibrated it into the other side of his ribcage as he kept up the prodding on the other side.

“CHAHAHARLIE! QUIHIHIT IT!” Tommy absolutely shrieked, unsure whether to attempt to push his hands away from his ribs, or to cover his face and obvious blush was creeping up on his cheeks. “Gotta admit I’m the better tickle monster first!” Charlie giggled, making little ‘tktktktk’ noises right in Tommy’s ear.

“N’awww, Tommy!~ You have just the sweetest giggles, and I know they’re because of me and not the slimy boy, is that right?” Wilbur teased, moving from his hips to the sides of his belly, scribbling his nails over the area. Hiccupy laughter began to emit from the boy, him kicking his legs into the couch behind Wilbur.

“He’s now all hiccupy! That’s so cute!” Charlie exclaimed, grabbing one of Tommy’s flailing arms. He sniggered to himself as Tommy’s laughter turned more high-pitched at the sudden vulnerability, a wide smile on his face nonetheless. “Uh oh, Tommy… someone’s in trouble now!” Charlie teased as he wiggled his fingers over his exposed underarm, not making contact now.

“DohoHOHON’T! WIHILBUR- *snort* HEHELP!” Tommy’s laughter grew an octave at his own snort, shaking his head as Charlie wouldn’t stop the stupid anticipation. “There’s no way I’m helping you, Toms. I mean- unless you say that I’m better at this.” Wilbur smirked, deciding to try a new spot as he turned around, fluttering his nails under Tommy’s knees.

The giggles it made Tommy produce were different. They were more flustered it seemed, almost like Wilbur just found a certain melt spot. “Tommy, you’ve gone all soft now! Let’s change that, shall we?” Charlie chuckled mischievously, his fingers crashing down and lightly scribbling into his underarms.

Feeling both his death spot and melt spot being tickled at the same time was definitely a different feeling. “NOOOHOHO- *hic* PLEHEHEASE!” His voice began to sound slightly strained, so Charlie retracted his hand in response. “Looks like I found your worst spot, eh?” He smiled, but it was more of a fond smile this time- compared to all his evil ones.

“Hmmm, Charlie. What if we worked together, just once?” Wilbur offered, and Charlie gladly nodded. “What do you need from me, boss?” He smiled playfully before Wilbur went in to whisper something into his ear. ‘What were they planning now? My demise?’ Tommy thought curling up on himself.

In one swift movement, Tommy found himself leaning onto Charlie being held in place with one of Charlie’s arms, and Wilbur looming over him with a grin that did not look friendly. It looked quite evil, in all honesty. “You ready, Toms?” Wilbur cooed, wiggling his fingers at the boy. The blonde whined, looking away from him. “N’aww, don’t want to watch the show, Tommy?” Charlie cooed in his ear. Just their words and actions alone made him want to squirm and laugh, and they haven’t even done the tickling yet.

A moment of silence fell onto them, Tommy still looking away, until a big raspberry was blown right beneath his belly button. The boy arched his back, a shriek ripping out from his throat as he weakly pushed at Wilbur’s head; but the stupid sensations just kept on going.

“YOHOHOU WIHI- *wheeze* WIHIHIN! ENOHOHOUGH!” Tommy managed to get out, his laughter nearly going silent. Wilbur sat up, rubbing Tommy’s tummy to help get rid of the tingles that still lurked around. “Who won? I didn’t catch it.” Charlie’s voice was gentle, but it was obvious there was some smugness there.

“Yeah, who won? You never stated a name, Toms!” The taller boy crossed his arms, smirking down at the boy. Tommy just let out a whine and covered his face, cuddling into Charlie as all the tickling wore him out. They both internally cooed at him, finding his snuggly antics so fond and wholesome, because for god's sake- it’s Tommy! You rarely find the boy getting all soft for anyone.

“Let’s just call it a tie, shall we Charlie?”

“Yeah, for now, that is.”